#or when i do. its always for something that would bring some sort of aggravating daily annoyance not harm. like im petty abt it fjdke not

[magnoliamyrrh]

self proclaimed witches today will rly be like. let me do a bunch of curses shady binding spells hexes and calls for harm onto others (who are random individuals who my online clients paid me to do this to) without any sort of even channeling of that into another being (animal sacrifice, symbolic sacrifice) or thinking to do anything to protect myself. hMm saying im powerful and life is all a balance is good enough. and let me teach this genious to others too

,,,,, you ever hear bout that what goes around comes around rule. do onto others as youd want done onto you. dont dish it if you cant take it. taking things seriously mayperhaps? actions have consequences perhaps. translate that into some sort of new age talk. oh wait. i forgot. new age talk doesnt understand the concept of actions have consequences

#outside of morality which isnt an issue i wanna get into #doing ~whichcraft for whatever short amount of time and then starting to do stuff like this seems like Such a good way to fuck yourself up #....... #so many too lol w the idea that theyre the ones who have power #nah lol. you are only a channeler of it. its not yours #......... LMAO hey remember when those internet witches tried to hex Allah and figured out really quick this is a horrible idea fhdkeiwk #... also yea i said i wasnt gonna get into morality but i cant imagine in my life ever taking money from random internet ppl to harm other #random ppl whose lives i know nothing of. dude im scared of even giving people the evil eye #much less this #......... i know technically how to curse. verbally. the good old traditional romanian way...... #i try to stay far away from it #or when i do. its always for something that would bring some sort of aggravating daily annoyance not harm. like im petty abt it fjdke not #harmful #if i can go without cursing my father i dont need to curse anyone else

[norrizzandpia]

Could you please write something about lando and some sort of enemies thing? even just a blurb, i just need lando fucking the sassiness out of someone.

Ok so i loved this but it isnt smut and its very angsty and i kinda just took the idea and ran with it

IM SO SORRY IF THIS ISNT WHAT YOU WANTED PLZ FORGIVE ME 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Enemies To Lovers, Ya Know? (LN4)

Summary: They’ve always hated each other. Always. Right?

Warnings: language, lando being highkey toxic but we can just ignore that!, im sorry i dont know if i like this plz let me know if its shit in the comments 🤞🏻, gender stereotyping? Im not sure the term lmk 💗

Note: SHES A LONG ONE SO GRAB THAT POPCORN also very cutesy and fluffy ones are on the way in apology for this

It wasn’t a secret to the fans, media, or the entirety of the grid.

Lando and Y/n hated each other.

No one was quite sure when it started or how it happened, but it was clear that the two couldn’t stand each other. Through menacing glares and snide comments, both of them showed how much loathing really went on behind the scenes. It didn’t help that they were teammates, both of them driving for the beautiful papaya, as it brought on horrible reviews and narratives. Continuously making McLaren look reckless, Lando and Y/n had gotten countless amounts of scoldings from the PR team, the employees pleading with them to stop the games and just get along, but, for some reason, they never could.

Y/n hated the sight of his face and the sound of his voice, and Lando…

Well, Lando didn’t exactly know why he hated her. She had never done anything to him, in fact, she had been so sweet to him the first time they met he had been convinced he was going to fall in love with her, but, over time, the anticipation of his inevitable love for her transformed into pure annoyance at her presence.

“Can you please stop breathing so loud?” Her voice broke through his thoughts as they waited for their next interview.

Rolling his eyes, Lando set his gaze on her, “Are you asking me to stop breathing?”

“No, I’m asking you to stop doing it so loud.” She countered.

Usually, he wouldn’t comment on someone’s bad behavior, but she made him so aggravated that he couldn’t help but look her in the eyes and say, “No.”

His sickly sweet smile made her fist twitch at her side as she got up from her chair and gathered her things, “God, you never stop, do you?”

He laughed as she left, “Not for you.”

—

“How do you guys even coexist let alone be teammates?” Daniel asked Y/n as they sat and ate lunch in Alpine Hospitality.

She shrugged, “I don’t know.”

He sat back, his fork falling to the side of his salad as he stared at her intently, “Would this have anything to do with that conversation you had with me when you first started racing for McLaren?”

Her head lulled against the table as she groaned, “Daniel, I’m so sick of you bringing that up. I was just hyped up with excitement over being the first girl to race in F1. What I said to you then was the product of delusion and a charming smile.”

His head tilted, “Mhm, sure. So, when you said you loved him, that was fabricated too?”

Her heart sped up and her cheeks burned at the inference, “Yes. You can’t love someone within a few months of knowing them.”

His eyes told her he knew exactly the kind of war that was going on in her head, “Y/n, it’s okay to love someone. It’s okay to put yourself out there.”

She saw the way his hand reached for hers lying on the table, but she pulled it back to dodge his digits trying to comfort her, “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t love him then.”

His mischievous smile haunted her, “I didn’t say his name, Y/n. All I said was it’s okay to love someone. I never said ‘Lando’”.

—

“So, your rivalry is one of the main things you two are known for on the track. How has this affected your relationship off the track? What I mean to ask is does the distaste come from what’s going on on track or just a wavelength you two can’t catch?” The reporter asked, his eyes searching for real answers in the PR-trained athletes.

Y/n opened her mouth to answer, the planned words ready to fly off her tongue, but Lando’s scoffing and interruption stopped her, “There isn’t a rivalry on track. If you know what I mean.”

The reporter’s eyebrows shot up, the opportunity for a juicy story right in front of him, “Are you saying Y/n doesn’t compare to your level of driving skills?”

Even though she hated him and expected nothing but the worst, she was still surprised when he didn’t hesitate to nod, “Well, she hasn’t been in Formula 1 for as long as I have. I have more experience and, therefore, I’m a better driver.”

His lack of humbleness had her blood boiling, “You’re answering this question as if I’m not sitting right here.”

All the men in the room turned at her voice, seemingly realizing she was sitting up there just like he was. The obliviousness to her presence wasn’t something she wasn’t familiar with, it happening on a daily basis, but that didn’t stop the sinking feeling from setting in.

“Do you have something to add?” The reporter shot out, his gaze flipping from both drivers.

She turned her head, glancing at Lando, before continuing, “I think it’s inappropriate for you to ask about Lando and I’s relationship. That’s something between him and I, not anyone else, and I think Lando’s answer is arrogant and inappropriate as well seeing as I’m actually ahead of him in the Constructer’s Championship.”

Each of the men addressed in her statement went to defend themselves, but she put up her hands, “I’m not done. As a woman in this sport, you have to be able to set boundaries with the people around you, especially teammates,” She glared at Lando, “It is clear you were and are trying to start something by your question and Lando may be too naive to see it, but I do not appreciate it. Next question.”

The room was silent before another reporter stood up, a woman this time, and asked her own question. A good, informative one that had Y/n smiling at her in gratefulness.

She answered it with ease even with Lando’s death stare drilling into her side.

—

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? YOU MADE ME LOOK LIKE A FOOL!” He screamed as soon as they were alone. She knew it was coming. He had given her rude looks all throughout the panel ever since she shut him and that reporter down.

Looking at him like he had grown two heads, Y/n waved her arms around, “What did you want me to do, Lando? Let you talk shit on me while I was right there?”

His annoyed groan echoed throughout the room as he took a moment to reel himself in before looking at her like she could die and he wouldn’t care, “I wasn’t talking shit and you know it. All you did was take an opportunity to make me look stupid in front of people who control my reputation.”

“Oh, wow I didn’t know that, Lan! Thanks for clearing it up!” She said sarcastically.

His finger came to point at her, “I worked so hard to get where I am, I love my job, and yet you make me question leaving every single day.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “Worked hard? Are you kidding me, Lando? Your daddy paid for your way in here and we both know it.”

That seemed to strike a nerve as his face heated up in anger before he hit the wall in a sheer mask of rage, “WHERE DO YOU GET OFF, BITCH?”

Her eyes closed and she inhaled a slow breath before saying, “Is bitch all you have? Really?”

He stalked towards her quickly, his frame towering over hers as he stared her down, “I have so much more, but, for the sake of your feelings, I won’t do that to you.”

She laughed with a dry, short sound, “Try me.”

His eyebrows lifted, “Really?”

“Go right ahead.”

Those three words seemingly ruined her life as Lando went into a full-fledged monologue about why he hated her with every cell in his body, “I think it’s crazy the amount of ego you have because all you really are is a PR stunt, so McLaren looks good. Why do you think they would sign a 20-year-old girl who can’t drive for shit? It’s because you’re a girl, Y/n. Your whole message about this industry needing to stop using women as pawns is bullshit. You wanna know why? It’s because you’re the epitome of that with the way you were only signed and you were only ever going to be signed because of your gender and the things it could do for our image. Do you understand me? You don’t mean shit to this team.”

It was as if he had pulled her greatest fears from the depths of her body and presented them in front of her, confirming them. Her eyes watered and her hands shook. Not from anger, but from the crushing reality that Lando never cared about her. From their early days when she thought he was flirting with her and that the jacket he draped over her shoulders when it was cold meant something more to now, where he was yelling at her and tearing her down piece by piece, she didn’t recognize him.

No amount of time spent in bed trying to understand what she had done to him to make him hate her in the way he did would never be enough to conjure up some form of an explanation.

She would have to live with the fact that the man she loved hated her more than anything else in the world. That he could see her lying wounded on the street and he would swerve his car to injure her more.

Somewhere in the span of her thinking, she had begun to cry. The soft, wet tears slowly made their way down her face as if to tease Lando and the mistake he had just made. The meaningless words dawned on him too late as Y/n roughly turned away from him and made her way to the door, slamming it shut and being as loud as she could be.

The knowing faces she saw as she ran out of the hospitality told her that their yelling had been heard by everyone. Something which made her skin crawl and stomach churn at the thought of.

Her head throbbed as one idea bounced around its walls.

Her time at McLaren was effectively over.

—

Whispering increased as Lando made his way through the doors of McLaren’s Headquarters. He had been called for an impromptu meeting with Charlotte and Zak, a pairing that scared him shitless.

His footsteps halted when her short bob caught his eye outside of Zak’s office, “Hey, is everything okay?”

Her panicked gaze met him and she aggressively grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt and pulled him into the room, Zak already standing there in wait, “What did you do?”

His hard tone made Lando rethink his entire life, “What do you mean?”

Charlotte hit his chest, “Don’t be stupid, Lando. What did you say to her?”

He shook his head, “I seriously have no clue what you two are talking about.”

Zak yelled in annoyance, “Did you not check your phone? Your teammate’s just resigned because, and I quote, ‘it wasn’t the right fit’. Lando, what did you say to her?”

The air in the room disappeared as Lando’s eyes narrowed, “She what?”

He couldn’t think, all he could do was slowly slide down to sit in the chair behind him as his legs gave out under him.

“She quit, Lando,” Charlotte repeated.

“Lando, if you don’t tell us what you said to her right now, you won’t be the only driver out of a seat.” Zak threatened.

He put his head in his hands as he mumbled, “I told her she was only here because we wanted to sign a woman for good PR.”

A creepy, deafening silence fell upon the room as Zak and Charlotte gazed at each other. The two of them were finally at their wits end with the two driver’s misplaced dislike for each other.

Charlotte cleared her throat, “What?”

“I told her she was only here becaus-” He began to repeat, but she interrupted him.

“I heard you.”

At that, Zak leaned forward on his desk, his intimidating stance making Lando straighten up, “You better go to her and apologize for what you said. Lando, if she doesn’t come back here tomorrow asking for her seat back, I will personally ensure that your next years with us are pure hell. If you just drove one of the best drivers we have ever seen out because you couldn’t man up enough to tell her you love her and instead created this narrative where you hated her, I will ruin your career. I don’t care what kind of relationship we have built over the time you’ve been with us.”

Charlotte rested her hand on his shoulder, “Where’d you even get the idea that that was why we signed her?”

He shook his head, “Nowhere! I just wanted to hit her where it hurt because that’s what she did to me. I know we didn’t sign her on for that reason and I know the kind of talent she has! I don’t know why I did that! I-” He looked at them helplessly, “I’m sorry.”

“Save it for her,” Charlotte said sternly as she gestured for him to leave.

It didn’t take his body any moment longer to leap from his chair and go into autopilot, speeding to her apartment. There had been a few car crash scares on the way there, but he, ultimately, made it to her place with just a shaken feeling.

His hand wrapped against the wooden door, praying she would answer. The sound of her footsteps sounded from behind the door as the lock clicked and it squeezed open.

“What are you doing here? You got what you wanted. I left McLaren.” She said quietly and it was then that Lando realized how exhausted she was of their ongoing feud.

“Y/n, I never wanted that.” He said softly as he rested against the edge of her door, looking down at her adoringly.

His quiet words seemed to aggravate her as she swung the door open and yelled, “THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT? I WENT QUIET WHEN YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE ANNOYED WITH HOW MUCH I SPOKE OUT, I STOPPED MAKING JOKES WHEN YOU TOLD ME I WASN’T FUNNY, AND I LEFT WHEN YOU TOLD ME I DIDN’T HAVE A REAL PLACE ON THE TEAM. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

He couldn’t help the way his heart sunk at the hell he had put her through.

All because he couldn’t be honest with himself.

“I want you.” He whispered, looking in her eyes like it would help her understand.

However, it didn’t and she scoffed, “Oh, so you hated me yesterday, but you want me today? Real mature, Lando. How about you leave me alone, okay? I can’t take your mood swings anymore.”

The door began to close on him, but he stopped it with his hand. Pushing it open and stepping into her apartment, he forced her to hear him, “I never hated you. Never. I know it seemed like it and the things I said to you yesterday were absolutely disgusting. I don’t blame you for being confused about why I’m telling you this now with the way I have treated you over the time we’ve been teammates. But, and just listen to me here, I never hated you. I hated the way you made me feel. I hated the fact that I loved you more than I ever could’ve loved Luisinha, I hated the way you made me want to give up a Grand Prix just so you could win it and feel happy, and I hate the way you’re right there yet I can’t have you.”

Her resolve cracked, he could tell, but she still held her ground, “You think you coming over here and telling me what I’ve been wanting to hear for years will erase what you said to me yesterday?”

His hands came to gently rest over her arms, trying so hard to show her how much she meant to him, “No, I don’t think that. I know what I said to you will always be something you think about, an insecurity that will never go away, and I hate myself for doing that to you. But, I would hate myself more if I let you walk away from F1 and McLaren thinking all you ever were was some ploy.”

She stared at him, clearly dodgy and untrusting of his words, but the look in his eyes, soft and pleading, told her that he had come here with good intentions.

Trying to stop herself from caving in, she looked away, “Okay, you’ve made your point. You can leave now.”

He shook his head, “No.”

Groaning, “Why? You told me what you wanted to and I believe you so what else is there?”

“You haven’t told me that you’re coming back to McLaren.” He said as he pulled her face back to look at him with his fingers.

“Why would I do that? How do I know this thing between us stops here?” She asked hesitantly.

“It won’t,” He began, his words causing her eyebrows to furrow, “It won’t because I still love you. I can’t make up for the things I said to you nor can I take them back, but what I can do is show you that I never meant any of it. If you come back, I’m telling you our hostile relationship won’t be hostile anymore, but I can’t promise I won’t work to get you to love me too.”

Her head fell down, so close to leaning into his chest, as she whispered, “I already do.”

He lightly nudged her head to rest against him as he softly said, “Well, that cuts down my workload by a lot.”

She chuckled, the sound reminding him that he might just be out of the woods, as she looked up at him, “And what if I gave you a chance?”

His smile reached his eyes, “I wouldn’t let you down.”

“Well, then maybe I’ll give you a chance.”

He kissed her forehead lightly before her tone shifted, “Is it true what you said yesterday? Did McLaren only sign me because it helped their image?”

He rapidly shook his head, “No, that was a stupid comment to make. That has never and will never be true. Your skill and talent speaks for itself, Y/n. Do you wonder why I get so defensive when someone talks about our ‘rivalry’? It’s because I know you’re better than me.”

“Don’t do that.” She said.

“Don’t do what?” He asked.

“Lie to me.”

He smiled at her, “Love, you said it yourself yesterday. You’re beating me in the Constructer’s Championship. If you look at our numbers side by side, it’s a fact you’re the better driver.”

Her mischievous smile greeted him, “I know. I just wanted you to say it out loud.”

Scoffing with a loving smile on his face, “Oh, you drive me crazy.”

She returned his smile, the look telling him she was in this with him for a long time, “Enemies to lovers, baby. Enemies to lovers.”

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #mclaren #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris x you #lando norris edit #lando norris smut #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine

[measuredingold]

to be in love and to be loved

chapter four: all i need

authors note: ...guess who finally came out of retirement ! the spark ( sort of ) has come back and i was finally able to finish this chapter. a loooong time coming. i'm happy to finally get something out, but i'm a bit bummed by this chapter because i don't think it's my best - however, i'm already working on chapter five and i'm very happy with it so far so... get ready for that :) another chapter in naomi's pov, and it's a doozy so hopefully that makes up for the time away ! as always please enjoy and feedback is appreciated !

pairing: noah sebastian x ofc x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist / cross-posted on ao3

word count: 10.2k

cw: ~kissing~, angst, suggestive content, feelings definitely being realized, alcohol, 18+ (minors do not interact.)

Naomi tries to go on like nothing happened that night on FaceTime. She kept her feelings and whatever she realized tucked deeply inside of her, putting on her best smile when the boys came home. They ended up not getting matching tattoos this time around. Whenever Nicholas wasn’t tattooing, and when Noah wasn’t doing something for the band, all three of them spent as much time together as they could.

It slipped their minds, which she was grateful for, because it made her focus on other things and not… that. It was pretty easy to forget about for the most part, just being happy that they were home for the first time in months. It felt like they had been gone longer than three months, and the weight that had been on her shoulders was lifted the very moment they stepped foot into Richmond.

That feeling, the realization, didn’t come back until the first night alone in her apartment. Noah had left two weeks ago, and Nicholas had left earlier that morning, and she felt… empty. Like something was missing – someone was missing. Her feelings consumed her then, so much so that she felt like she couldn’t breathe, eyes prickling with tears because how the hell did she get herself into this?

She feels guilty, keeping this from them but also knowing that she can never say anything. How the hell do you tell your boyfriend that you’re in love with him and your guys’ best friend? This isn’t some fairytale where every ending is a happy one, this is the real world, and the real world always has its consequences.

A part of her is glad that the boys have been busy the last week and a half, their talks being limited to maybe an hour every few days, and texts sent at the most random times. It's given her time to sit with herself and think, and then eventually bring in reinforcements. Someone she's known longer than Noah and Nicholas, someone who she can trust without a second thought. 

"Jesus, Mimi." Analise breathes out, and Naomi can already see the crease in her forehead. She sighs.

"I know."

There's a silence that follows that makes her feel uneasy. Analise has always been able to tell her how it is, never having trouble voicing her opinions and calling Naomi out on her shit. This time though... She feels like she's finally stunned the other girl into silence for the first time in her life.

"Does anyone else know?" 

"Lis," Naomi sighs again. "The only other people I'd tell would be Noah and Nicky... and I obviously can't fucking do that."

Analise laughs. "If it weren't for me, you'd go to the grave with this, huh?"

"Oh, for fucking sure." She tries to laugh but it fails, and she lets out another deep, aggravated sigh. She brings her hands up to dig her heels into her eyes, a headache already beginning to start at the back of her head. "What the hell do I do, Lissy?"

A beat passes. "Do you want my honest opinion?"

"Well, I didn't invite you over just to bullshit me."

"Girl, I have never bullshitted you once throughout our entire friendship."

"Exactly, and that's why I go to you for these types of things. You always tell me how it is." 

"And I always will.” Analise says matter of factly before her words are followed by a sigh. Naomi can see that fucking crease again. "Anyone under the fucking sun can see how much love you have for Noah. I don't think I've ever seen you love someone so hard before."

"I don't think I've ever loved someone like I do him." Naomi replies easily, without much thought. She knew it was true.

"Right," Analise starts before narrowing her gaze at Mimi, her full lips tugging down ever so slightly. "However, I'm not dumb."

Mimi raises a brow. "Huh?"

"Listen," Analise leans back against the couch, holding her hands up almost defensively. "I'm not sure if anything ever happened between you and Nick before you got with Noah, but I wouldn't be surprised. Your chemistry with each other is insane." Her gaze softens now. "And I can tell you care about him a lot, more than a friend should. I think you always have."

Naomi's cheeks flush at Analise's words and she bites down on her bottom lip, chewing on it nervously. Was it so obvious? She didn't think so, but Analise has never lied to her. Not once. 

"...What if I told you something almost happened?" 

"I'd call you a bitch - lovingly - for not telling me sooner," Analise says without hesitation. "And then I'd ask for you to elaborate on what you mean by almost."

"Almost as in," She drags her words, pulling her legs up onto the couch, "When he tattooed me for the first time, we were talking, and got pretty close. I wanted to kiss him and... and I think he wanted to kiss me, but then we didn't. He mentioned Noah and it kinda... ruined the moment."

Analise stares at her for a beat longer than needed before speaking up, "Did it ruin the moment because you knew that you liked Noah at the time, or did you think there was something going on between Noah and Nick?"

Naomi's eyes widen and Analise waves her off, scoffing softly.

"Girl. Don't give me that look. You know it's true." The girl sighs, as if this is the most taxing thing she's ever had to deal with and leans forward. "I've seen the way Nicholas looks at you… and the way he looks at Noah.” Analise gives her a smile, full lips stretched into a smile. "He's got it bad for the both of you."

"You're just making that up."

"I'm not making shit up. You," Analise points a finger at her and Mimi scoffs, turning her head the other way, "are just in denial at the fact Nicholas is in love with the both of you.”

"No, I'm not."

"Okay. Look me in the eyes and tell me you had no fucking idea Nicholas looks at both you and Noah like you two hung up the fucking stars."

Naomi's mouth opens to argue because that's just ridiculous, he doesn't do that, but nothing comes out. Not even a noise. Her brain then starts to finally catch up and thoughts of Nicholas invade her mind. Her throat tightens, skin heating up and feeling almost clammy, as the realization finally dawns on her. It's as if she's finally waking up after years of sleep, like she's opened her eyes and finally saw what was right in front of her the entire fucking time. 

Nicholas wasn't just in love with her, or with Noah... it was the both of them. 

"Oh my god." Was all she was able to get out, brown eyes widening as she finally looked back at Analise. 

Her friend's face softened, lips pressing together to try and suppress her own frown. "It's so obvious, Mimi."

"Yeah, I fucking know that now." She groans, leaning her elbows against the tops of her thighs, hands rubbing along her face. "Oh my god."

The tightening in her throat doesn't let up and there's a burning feeling behind her eyes, the tears threatening to push through. Her heart pounds against her chest, ringing through her ears. How did she not notice? 

The way he reacted to them being together, the way he's been acting ever since... It all makes fucking sense. She - they - are the reason behind Nicholas' continued sadness, the reason why he's been pulling away these last few months. The reason why he needed to suck it up and get over it. Her stomach turns in a way she fucking hates, the nausea coming back as it settles somewhere deep inside the pit of her stomach. 

How did she not fucking notice?

With tears stinging at her eyes, she finally looks up to find Analise staring at her, expression pained.

"What do I do?" She breathes out. 

"Well... what do you think you should do?" 

"I..." With a frustrated sigh she slumps her body back against the couch, hands coming up to rub at her face as the first tears fell. "I don't know."

She probably sounded pitiful, because that's exactly how she felt. What could she even do? It's not like she could call up Nicholas right now and tell him how she felt, how she knew, because there's a whole other person involved. She whines pathetically at the thought of her boyfriend. Yeah, maybe she and Nicholas had feelings for one another and Noah, but what about him?

She feels the couch beside her dip and her stomach turns at the thought of Noah. How would he feel about all of this? There's no telling how he'd react, finding out she was in love with their best friend and him, and said best friend was also in love with her and him. Does he even feel the same?

Her head pounds, a headache coming on immediately, and she curls herself into her friend's arms as she finally lets more tears fall.

"You need to tell them."

Analise's voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she shudders, head shaking against the girl's shoulder.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can." Analise pulls her back, hands coming up to cup her face to force Naomi to stare at her. "You need to tell them, Mimi."

She knows she should. She fucking knows that she should tell both Noah and Nicholas right now that she loves them so much that it makes her sick, makes her stomach twist and turn at the thought of ever being without either of them. A life without the two of them is a life she never wants to endure and... and she thinks that is what's stopping her. She would never be able to live with herself if this is what breaks them, if this is what pushes Noah from them.

She shakes her head in Analise's hold, "No. I can't."

Analise's hands drop from her face, lips pursed. "You're sostubborn sometimes, I can't stand it."

"You don't understand." She wipes at her face to rid herself of the tears that seem to still fall, tucking a few loose curls behind her ears. "This isn't me being stubborn, this is... I can't lose them. Sure, what if me and Nicholas feel the same? What about Noah? There's no telling how he even feels, if he'd even be okay with this." Naomi doesn't miss the way her voice wavers and she feels her bottom lip tremble, a fresh set of tears falling. "Lis, you know I can't fucking lose him."

"I know. I know, okay?" Analise gathers her in her arms again and she falls into it gratefully, face pressing against her shoulder. "I've never dealt with something like this, so I'm sure it's scary, right? The not knowing." Naomi feels her friend smooth down her hair, hugging her closer as she sighed out, "But I still think you need to tell them eventually. They deserve to know - especially Nick. I can't even imagine how he feels."

That makes Naomi's heart break in a whole new way, the realization of Nicholas having to deal with this on his own. Having to watch the two people he loves be together right in front of him and having to keep the way he feels hidden to keep things as normal as possible... because she knows he'd rather hurt himself by keeping them close than losing them for good. She chokes out a sob and Analise holds her closer, hands rubbing up and down her back to soothe her. 

"I can't." She rasps out after a few minutes, calming down slightly but the tears still burning her eyes. She pulls back to look at Analise, head shaking. "At least not yet. I just - I can't."

Analise stares at her, hard, lips pressing together before sighing in defeat. A weight on Naomi's shoulders lifts, knowing that her friend won't press her anymore on this. She pulls away, hands sliding from Naomi's back to her arms, rubbing them soothingly.

"God, you’re so... fucking stubborn and really annoying sometimes," Analise grumbles, but there's no malice in her voice, "but I'm also going to be here for you every step of the way. Even if I'm not happy about it."

For some reason this makes Naomi laugh, a bit wet and rough, but she feels more at ease. Her shoulders finally relax.

"Thank you." She mumbles, reaching up to wipe at her face, and she sucks in a deep breath. "I just need to think about it, okay? I know it's not fair to Nicky, I know, but I can't..." Her voice trails off, that same heavy weight against her chest returning. "I don't know how to fucking do it, so I need to weigh out my options, you know?"

"I know." Analise's voice is so soft, so gentle, and Naomi has to try and will away the remaining tears that threaten to fall. "I'm here, okay? I'm on your side. Don't forget that."

Naomi doesn't respond, instead gives her friend a tight smile before leaning back into her embrace. She sucks in another deep breath and buries her face against Analise's shoulder, letting her eyes slip shut.

How did everything get so complicated?

...

"Hey," She tries to keep her voice even, lips pressing together to suppress her smile. "What're you doing on the 17th?"

Noah caught her gaze through the screen, brows furrowing at her question. "Uh... probably practicing. Why?"

"Oh, nothing." She averts her gaze from the screen as her shoulders go up into a nonchalant shrug, the struggle to keep the smile off her face growing harder each second. "Just wanted to know if you were free and wanted to pick me up from the airport at… eight that night."

She looks back at Noah now, full lips pulled into a grin, and he blinks. Naomi can see the wheels in his head slowly turning, trying to catch up to what she just said to him. He blinks again, face scrunching in confusion before it falls to one in disbelief, eyes widening.

“What the fuck.”

Mimi laughs, letting her head fall back against the couch, and Noah says it again, louder this time.

“What the fuck.” She lifts her head to look at the screen again, seeing a wide smile spreading across his lips. “You’re not fucking with me, right? You’re serious?”

“As can be.” She hums sending him a gentle smile through the screen. “I’ve had the tickets for a while, I wanted to surprise you at the apartment but forgot how expensive Ubers are, so I kind of need you to pick me up.”

“I will. I’d never make you pay for that.” She swears his smile gets nugget, laughter slipping from him. “How long will you be here?”

“Just a week.” Her lips dip downward from the smile she once wore, sighing quietly. “I’m trying not to use too much time, but I really wanted to see you guys and be there for the album release. This is huge. I couldn’t miss it.”

She notices the twitch in his lips, the slight drop at the mention of only being there for a week, but he covers it up quickly.

"That's fine. I wouldn't even care if it were just a day," He murmurs, eyes softening. "Just as long as I get to see you."

It's crazy what he does to her, her stomach fluttering so much she truly believes there's butterflies roaming around in there. Her cheeks heat up and her frown turns back into a sheepish smile.

"Yeah?"

"Of course. I miss you."

"I miss you, too." 

"And so does Nick. Fuck, can I tell him? He's going to be so excited."

Naomi's heart drops at the mention of Nicholas' name and she has to swallow down the rush of feelings that come to her instantly.

"Yeah, you can tell him. I was gonna text him after I got off the phone with you." She says quietly, bringing her hand up to her mouth to chew at her thumb. 

Noah's lips twitch up into a smile and he hums in response, "It's going to be so nice having you here... fuck, Nick's seriously going to be so excited. He mentioned the other day that he missed you."

Oh. Her tummy does that thing again where it's flipping and turning in every which way, and she knows her cheeks are heating up. She swallows thickly, throat drying up, but she does her best to smile back at Noah.

"Did he?"

"Yeah." 

There's a short pause before Noah's changing the subject, obviously oblivious to Naomi's reactions. She nods along to whatever he says, trying to focus on her boyfriend and not the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, her brain screaming at her every chance it could. 

She was going to have to tell them sooner rather than later.

Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the crowd around her, slight irritation bubbling inside of her. It was literally eight o'clock at night, a Wednesday night. Why the hell were there so many people? She huffs to herself as she continues to look for a familiar face, and her breath hitches once she finds Noah standing only a few feet away. He hadn't seen her yet, and she suspects he's wearing the same irritated expression that she is, eyes narrowed, and hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked through the sea of people.

Relief washes over his face when he finally spots her and her feet start moving before she even thinks about it, a smile spreading across her lips when he waves her over.

"Fucking finally." He groans out, barely giving her time to reply before he scoops her into his arms. "Felt like I was standing here forever."

She all but melts in his hold, the irritation she had been feeling just seconds before leaving her the moment Noah wrapped her up in his arms. This is what she was missing. The feeling of comfort she had so desperately been yearning for. Naomi sighs as she buries her face against his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. She feels his lips brush against the side of her temple, and she can feel the smile spreading across his features.

"That flight felt like it was fucking forever." Naomi grumbles, the memory of the crying baby a few seats behind her filling her mind. "Didn't think I was gonna make it."

"Thank fuck you did." Noah chuckles as she pulls back but keeps her arms around him. Their eyes lock and his smile grows, leaning down to press their foreheads together. "Missed you."

"Missed you." She whispers, eyes fluttering shut. 

They stay like that for a beat before Noah's pulling back, looking around them as if he was waiting for someone else.

"Nicky should be on his way back..." Noah's voice trails off and Naomi's skin crawls at the mention of the other, stomach dropping. "Ah! There he is."

Her body turns as she follows Noah's gaze and in between the crowds of people emerges Nicholas, a wide grin stretching across his lips as their eyes meet. Her breath hitches in her throat, similar to how it had when she saw Noah, and her heart pounds against her chest. She stood still as Nicholas finally reached them, arms being thrown around her and her face pressing into his chest.

"There's our girl."

She sputters, the sound being muffled by Nicholas' shirt as he holds her closer, lips brushing against the side of her head.

Our girl.

In a perfect world that was true, she was theirs. She always had been, even when they were just friends. She feels her eyes burn. Knowing what she did now, how she felt for the both of them, what Nicholas felt... She squeezes her eyes shut and lets her arms wrap around his middle, hugging him tightly. She can hear Analise yelling at her in the back of her mind, chanting Tell them! Tell them! Tell them! but she can't. Not now, at least. Not right before the biggest day of their entire lives. 

The burning behind her eyes doesn't stop especially when she feels Noah behind her, pressing into her as his arms slip around her and Nicholas, joining the embrace. It feels so right to be wrapped up between the two of them, having just the two of them pick her up from the airport. It makes so much sense, and she lets her mind wander back to that perfect world where this is the norm. Where they meet her here and pick her up, exchanging hugs, I love you, I missed you, and then heading off their home. 

God. Naomi loves them so much that it physically hurts at this point.

Nicholas is the first to pull away, but Noah's still attached to her back, chin now resting against her shoulder.

"You're probably tired." Nicholas hums, eyes scanning over her face. She blinks away the tears, thankful none fall, but knows that he noticed the red rimming around her eyes. His brows furrow. "Everything alright?"

She nods, leaning back against Noah's chest. "Yeah. Just missed you guys."

His face softens and she feels Noah's arms squeeze around her gently.

"We missed you, too," Noah hums in response before finally untangling himself from her but leaves an arm around her shoulder. Nicholas reaches for her suitcase. "Nick’s right, you probably are tired and ready to get home.”

Home.

A lump rises into the base of her throat and she blinks away that burning feeling in her eyes, and leaned into Noah’s side, trying to relax in his embrace. She flicked her eyes towards Nicholas who was already looking at her, eyes narrowed slightly, but lips tugged into a small smile. He knew something was up with her, more than just being tired, but she knew he wouldn't press.

Naomi gives him her own smile, small but a smile nonetheless, and nuzzles herself further into Noah's side.

“I should’ve picked an earlier flight.” She says, a yawn soon following after. She was tired, and later flights always leaves her exhausted. It was about eight at night California time, so even later than the East Coast time she was used to. “I‘m exhausted.”

"Well, let’s get you home and into bed, hm?" Noah squeezed her shoulder, and she felt the brush of his lips against the side of her head, eyes fluttering shut at the comforting feeling. 

"Yeah." Her eyes open again to stare at Nicholas beside her and then tilting her head up to stare at Noah, chest aching only slightly, the burn behind her eyes slowly leaving. "Let's go home."

…

There had been a lot more people there than she had anticipated, and as she eyed the crowd from the merch table she was currently guarding, her chest swelled with pride. She had noticed the rise of Bad Omens in these last few months, their follower count growing steadily, online forums talking about them and their upcoming debut release more and more. It was almost fulfilling to see it all finally come to light, years of blood, sweat, and tears finally leading them to this very moment.

Naomi knows how hard they had worked for this - how hard Noah had worked for this. She has to swallow down her pride, willed away the burning tears at her eyes as she watched Noah work the crowd. It had to be exhilarating, she thinks, getting the crowd hyped up, hearing them sing back those very lyrics you spent hours on. She can't even imagine what Noah must be feeling right now. Not even just him, but Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly as well. They all look like they're meant to be up there. 

She’s so fucking proud.

Her focus on the stage was broken by someone coming up to the table, giving her a timid smile as they pointed to a shirt behind her. She shook herself out of her thoughts and smiled gently at them before reaching for the shirt that they had wanted. They looked young, probably around Folio’s age, and she watched as they handed over the cash for the shirt. She's going by memory now, sorting through money to give them their change and she looks up briefly at the stage. 

She freezes, the dollar bills almost slipping from her grasp. Noah had moved from the center of the stage over to the left, where Nicholas had stood, and the sight had something igniting inside Naomi – like there was a fire in the pit of her stomach. Noah moves with a purpose, slinging an arm over Nicholas' shoulder and presses into his side. This shouldn't be doing something for her, because they've always done this, but it's Noah's next move that has her breath hitching ever so slightly.

Noah's twisting Nicholas towards him, leaning forward so their foreheads can press together. She swallows thickly and watches as Noah's hand goes to move to the back of Nicholas' neck, gripping. Nicholas' eyes flutter shut in that exact moment, and she has to press her lips together in hopes for her mouth to not fucking drop open, especially when Noah presses forward again, their noses barely brushing together as he sang into the mic.

Naomi forced her gaze away from the two, heart pounding against her chest and that fiery pit in her stomach not letting up once. She tried to rid herself of those thoughts, lips straining into a smile as she finally handed the change back to the fan who wasn't even phased. They smiled warmly, and if they noticed the slight flush to her cheeks, they didn't comment on it, instead thanking her and walking off. 

She let out a breath she had been holding, eyes gazing back towards the stage and felt the relief flow through her body when she noticed that Noah was on the other side now. Thank God, she thinks, letting out another long breath before helping out another fan. She’s not sure she could handle seeing them that close again.

As their set went on, she lost count of the times her mind drifted back to Noah leaning into Nicholas' space, his hand placed on the back of the other's neck to hold him there as their foreheads pressed together. She pushed it as far back as she could while doing her job for the night, but it was always there, unmoving in a small portion of her mind. They looked good together, faces far too close to not be taken as intimate, eyes shut in almost ecstasy... Naomi shakes her head.

Girl, get a grip, she thinks.

She can't get too lost in that thought, doesn't let herself cling on to the what if? of the situation. She hadn't let herself think of the maybe, the mere possibility of Noah feeling the same for Nicholas. She doesn't have to think twice on how her boyfriend feels for her because she knows - Noah never gave her a reason to think otherwise. It's Noah's feelings for Nicholas that she's confused about. 

They grew up together. Where Nicholas went, Noah seemed to follow, even long after Naomi had come into the picture and became their friend. She thinks back to long nights spent at their apartment, staying up way too late and passing around a bottle of wine as they talked about their dreams, the future. She remembers how Noah was always staring at her, at the time not knowing the look in his eyes was filled with pure adoration. But she also remembers Noah staring at Nicholas, when he thought no one was paying attention. Not as often as he did her, but he still would. With that same look. 

She didn't know it then, but she knows it now, and her stomach turns all the same as it had with Analise a few weeks ago.  

"Holy fucking shit."

Folio's voice breaks her out of her thoughts and Naomi turns away from the box she's working on to face her friend, giving him a wide smile. 

"Dude!" She all but shouts as Folio bounds his way to the merch table, throwing her arms around him. "That was so fucking sick!"

He slips an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You think?"

"Think?" Naomi pulls back to stare at him, giving him the most ridiculous look. "Did you not see that crowd? You fucking killed it. They all loved it!”

Folio smiles, big and full of pride, and she can't help but wrap her arms around him again, pulling him back into another hug.

"So proud of you." Naomi remembers the very beginnings of this band, and to think back to where they started up to this very moment makes her a little misty eyed. "Only up from here."

Folio's eyes roll playfully when he pulls away. "Please. The album just came out."

"And?" She laughs now, pinching his arm. "Just watch - in a few years everyone's going to know who Bad Omens are."

"...I hope so." He smiles sheepishly now, head dipping down to hide the hint of flush on his cheeks. 

"I hope so too."

Their conversation is cut short when she hears a few loud voices come closer to them, turning her head to spot the rest of the band coming their way. Her stomach drops the second she sees Noah, and she can't help but stare as both he and Nicholas make their way over to the merch table. Memories of them on stage flash through her mind and she has to look away from them, trying to shake whatever thoughts that seemed to float through her mind. She cannot be thinking about that.

But it's so hard, especially with how good they looked together. Noah's hand wrapped around the back of Nicholas' neck; Nicholas' eyes fluttering shut as Noah pressed himself closer... She physically shakes her head this time, trying to will away those thoughts as Noah comes up to her. She tries to do her best to act like a normal human being and not someone who was just thinking about her boyfriend doing God knows what with their best friend.

"So?" Noah's grin is so wide, she's sure his cheeks hurt, and she doesn't stop herself from throwing her arms around him.

"That was fucking amazing!" Naomi all but squeals. "Y'all have always been good but shit... this show was top tier."

Noah pulls away from her just enough for them to lock eyes, his grin falling to something much softer - timider. "You think so?"

She nods, standing slightly on her tiptoes to press her lips to his cheek gently. "Well duh. Of course, I do."

"You're just saying that because you like me." Noah grumbles playfully and she can't help but pinch at his side, laughing when he yelps.

"Oh, shut up." Their eyes meet again, and her gaze softens, arms slipping back around his waist. "You've worked really fucking hard for this and it showed up there tonight. I'm so proud of you."

She smiles up at Noah gently before turning to face Jolly and Nicholas who have finally joined the group, catching their gazes.

"You guys, too. I don't think I've ever been prouder of anyone in my entire life."

Nicholas blushes, face red and looks away from her, mumbling a quiet "Thank you" and busying himself with folding the rest of the shirts she had laying out. Cute, she thinks to herself before she looks at Jolly, who's waving her off.

"Oh, please. Don't go soft on me." But from the faint color on his cheeks as well, she knows he appreciated it. 

"So, what's the plan?" Folio speaks up, looking around the group. "Celebratory drinks?"

"You're not even legal yet, dude." Noah teases, resting his arm around Naomi's shoulder.

"Neither are you?" Her, Nicholas, and Jolly say in unison before breaking out in laughter, especially at the pouty face Noah gives them.

"Almost!"

"Yeah, two months." Nicholas snorts, casting both her and Noah a look before focusing back on the shirts. "But I'm down to drink."

"Me too." Jolly agrees. "Nick, Mimi - you guys get this all packed up. The rest of the crew will get everything else. Sound good?"

She meets Nicholas' eyes and nods, giving him a gentle smile before focusing back on Jolly, throwing him a thumbs up. "Sounds good to me."

"The quicker we finish, the quicker we can get out of here." Noah says happily, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pulling away from her. "Let's get this shit done. I'm ready for a drink." 

The three of them walk over to the rest of the crew, beginning to take down their equipment, leaving her and Nicholas alone. This was the first time she had been alone with him since he had been home weeks ago, and her stomach swirls in excitement as she slips into the space next to him, folding the rest of the shirts scattered across the table.

"You did good tonight." She hummed, bumping her hip into his. 

"Yeah?" He keeps his voice low, and she steals a quick glance at him to see the sides of his mouth quirking up into a smile. She nods. "Thank you. I had fun."

"You looked like you did." The words fall from her mouth without much thought, and immediately the image of him and Noah on stage plague her mind. She clears her throat. "You guys are really getting the hang of this."

"It's gotten easier." He says with a shrug, closing up a box he had finished. "Still weird having people like... come and see us? Like. Singing our songs and shit. It's weird but nice."

"It's amazing, that's what it is." She pauses her actions to lean her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "I sound like a broken record but I just... I'm so proud of you guys. You've been busting your asses for years and it's finally paying off."

Nicholas reaches for the shirts she had folded, and her eyes watch his movements, watching as he placed them into another empty box. Most of the shirts have been tucked away nicely and the only things left are some CDs and a few vinyl variants, and a few posters she thinks. 

"Thank you for coming and helping out." Their eyes meet again, and she holds in a breath, but doesn't look away. "I was scared shitless for tonight, but it was uh, easier. Knowing you were in the crowd." He reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. "Made it easier for Noah, too."

His words pull at her heart, chest tightening. She made it easier for them. Having her there made the biggest night of their lives easier in some shape or form and she has to blink away the burning in her eyes, lips tugging into a smile.

"I'm glad I was able to make it easier."

They stare at each other for a beat longer than needed and Nicholas' eyes drop, going back to packing up their stuff. 

"Ready to haul this shit out to the van?"

She eyes the filled boxes around them, and then the things that still need to be packed up, and internally groans to herself. She wishes they had at least one more set of hands to help out, but everyone else is handling all the heavy duty that she definitely doesn't want to deal with and nods. 

"As ready as I'll ever be."

And on the back-and-forth trips she and Nicholas make from the venue to the van, she can't shake away the feeling in the back of her mind telling her that it's going to be a long night. 

…

Naomi feels warm all over.

The alcohol courses through her veins as she and Noah throw back their third shot of the night. She makes a face, her chest burning from the contents, and chases the after taste with her mixed drink. Noah laughs from beside her.

"Oh, come on! It wasn't that bad."

She groans and leans into his side, her forehead pressing against his shoulder. "You know how much I hate tequila." 

His arm wraps around her, pulling her closer, and she shivers at the feeling of his fingers dancing along her hip and up under her shirt, rubbing the skin there gently. He dips his head down to brush his lips against her cheek, another laugh escaping him. Another shiver ran through her. She's forgotten just how touchy Noah can get whenever he drinks, and after weeks of not seeing him, she's realizing just how much she's missed his hands against her.

"You're being such a baby."

"Fuck you." She jokes, pulling her head up to look at him. He's already staring at her, eyes glazed over and a dopey grin on his lips. 

"Didn't peg you as an exhibitionist, babe."

Naomi sputters at Noah's words and the grin on his lips only grows, and she shoves at his chest playfully. 

"You're terrible." She grumbles, but there's no heat behind her words, the edges of her lips tugging in a smile as her eyes roll. 

Noah laughs, loud and bright, and she lets that very smile on her lips grow. 

"But you looove me." Noah all but sings, pressing a very over dramatic kiss to her cheek. 

She laughs, half-heartedly shoving at his chest. "Hush."

He pulls back to stare at her, and she almost misses the playful glint in his gaze before his eyes drop to her lips. Her tummy flips and she found herself leaning in, wanting nothing more than to have Noah's lips against hers, but stops midway when she sees movement behind the boy. 

Nicholas slips into the spot next to Noah and Naomi can't help but stare, eyes roaming over his alcohol flushed face. Noah feels him right away, a smile stretching across his lips as he turns to look back at him. Her eyes gaze down to his hand coming to rest on Nicholas' thigh and he drops his head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

"Hi Nicky." 

His tone was sweet and something about it made Naomi’s chest twist. She tries to not think about that right now, not with her hazy, alcohol induced mind, but she can't help but pull her bottom lip in between her teeth at the sight of Noah in between both her and Nicholas. Her mind goes back to Noah’s arm wrapped around Nicholas, against her own will, and remembers him leaning his head against the others as he sang into the microphone. She squirms in her seat.

She isn’t sure why it got her so riled up, but she quite literally couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way Nicholas’ eyes fluttered shut, fingers working along his bass as Noah pressed against him… she has to press her thighs together to try and relieve some of the heat building up inside of her.

With a shake of her head, she reaches forward to brush some of Noah's hair from his face and she doesn't miss the way Nicholas' tenses at Noah's affection, a strained smile forming on his lips.

"Hi Noah." 

"Where'd you wander off to?" Noah's words were slurred, and his eyes open now, lifting his head up to rest his chin on Nicholas' shoulder now. "I've been waiting for you to come take a shot with me, Mimi's being a wimp about it."

Naomi notices the shift in Nicholas' eyes and the way his throat bobs at the close proximity. Her hand drops from Noah's hair to his thigh, gently rubbing, and the boy reaches absentmindedly with his free hand to lace their fingers together.

"I am not." She argues and can't help but huff, eyes rolling. "He gave me tequila when he knows I fucking hate it."

"Oh, man." Nicholas laughs, eyes scrunching. "You know how she feels about tequila, dude. She can't handle it like us - she’s a baby.”

Her mouth drops open, offended.

“Hey!” But it goes ignored.

"Well, I was waiting for you! Then I couldn't find you so," Noah shrugs and lifts his head to look at her. "Mimi was my victim for the night."

"I'm here now." She notices the way Nicholas' shoulders relax, leaning into Noah. His smile isn't strained anymore. "Do you think you can handle another one?"

The mischievous grin Noah gives Nicholas is answer enough and before she realizes it, there's more shots on the table for them - tequila still, much to Naomi's dismay. Jolly joins them at some point, and so does Folio, but they both come and go as they work their way around the bar to talk to everyone. The three of them stay put in their booth, throwing back shots.

As the night goes on, her mind grows hazier and hazier with each shot she takes. She should've stopped, she knows this, especially when they stopped tasting like alcohol and more like water, but it was the only way to calm her nerves. Even in her drunk haze she was able to notice how handsy Noah was tonight.

Perhaps it was the tequila making him this way, and maybe it was because they hadn't seen each other in so long that he needed to touch her in any way that he could, but it was driving her crazy. His hand would inch higher every few minutes, fingers dipping into the exposed flesh of her thigh. Every time she'd feel his nails dig into her skin she'd squirm, pressing her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure building up. 

She moved her focus from the hand on her thigh, to try and regain some kind of normalcy in that brain of hers, and found Nicholas staring at her. Well, not exactly staring at her but... at Noah's hand on her thigh, inching upward every few seconds. His tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip and then his eyes flick up towards hers, widening for a second when he realized he had been caught. 

Her breath hitches and she just can't seem to look away, and neither could Nicholas, and it wasn't until another squeeze on her thigh from Noah pulled her away from those hypnotizing eyes.

"-huh?" She says dumbly, looking over at Noah. He had said something, but she didn't quite catch it, too preoccupied. Noah laughs. If he had noticed her staring at Nicholas, he didn't comment on it.

"Just said I don't think I've drank this much in... forever." He hums, head leaning on her shoulder. She relaxes and leans into him, head turning to brush her lips against the side of his head.

"Same." She groans, eyes fluttering shut. "Don't think I've ever drank so much tequila in my life. You two are evil."

She hears both Nicholas and Noah chuckle at that and she smiles, opening her eyes again to look between the two. It was nice to be there with them, reminding her of the days spent in their apartment with their cheap, shitty wine. Her stomach turns, chest squeezing at the memory, and she feels herself almost yearning for that. Back when things didn't have to make sense and she just loved being around them.

If only things could be so simple.

"Yeah, it's been a minute since I've drank this much." Nicholas says while scratching at his neck, a light flush covering his cheeks. "Think I need to slow down."

"Fuck. Same." Noah's quiet for a moment before he laughs, picking his head up to look at Nicholas. "Remember that one night? Like... two years ago?"

Nicholas raises a brow at him. "You're gonna have to be more specific there, man."

"Davis' birthday? We almost drank damn near everything by ourselves."

Naomi sees something shift in Nicholas' eyes, the redness on his cheeks becoming more and more apparent as time passes.

"Oh yeah." His voice is clipped, jaw twitching. "I remember."

Her eyes narrow between the two boys, not understanding the exchange. He seemed... she wasn't sure what he seemed like, but the only thing she could describe it as is tense. Just like he'd been for weeks. She doesn't remember the last time she'd seen Nicholas relaxed for more than an hour; doesn't even remember the last time she didn't notice the lingering sadness that floated around in his eyes. She frowns at him, and he shifts his gaze, looking back at Noah.

"That was fucking crazy." Noah slurs, then turns his head to look at Naomi. "Have I ever told you about that night?"

She shakes her head. "Nah. All I remember is that you guys were miserable the next day. Kind of glad I had to miss it for work."

"You should be glad. Davis almost killed us." Nicholas grumbled and Noah laughed beside her.

"I only remember bits from that night, if I'm being honest." He starts, and then turns his focus back on Nicholas. "Didn't I kiss you?"

"Pardon?" She feels like her eyes are about to jump right out of her fucking head, heart pounding against her chest. Noah looks at her again, head tilted. "Back track. You guys kissed?!"

"Almost." Nicholas' eyes are just as wide as hers and he's quick to answer, head shaking. "Almost kissed. I think I stopped him. Or… maybe Davis did? Actually, I think he ended up tripping and stopping himself.”

Noah's laughing again, all happy and calm as if he didn't just drop the biggest bomb in the history of ever. Naomi's heart slows down, only slightly though, because they didn't actually kiss. For some reason she finds herself being a tad bit disappointed by that. 

This is not helping her earlier thoughts one fucking bit.

"Oh yeah! I did trip, but I think Davis was going to stop us, anyways."

Naomi's eyes flick between them in silence as her mind goes into overdrive, every possible scenario running through it. Noah and Nicholas almost kissed. Touching and kissing and the sweet, sweet noises Noah would be making because she knows how much the boy loves kissing and... 

The tequila is working overtime tonight because her mouth moves before her mind can even catch up.

"Me and Nicky almost kissed once, too."

It was Noah's turn to look at her like she was crazy, brown eyes wide in surprise. Nicholas looks... terrified. All the color has drained from his face and part of her feels bad, like she should have asked him if it was okay to bring it up, but Noah had brought up their almost kiss. Why couldn't she? It's not like they actually did kiss, just like them.

Even if she wishes they had.

"When?!" Noah practically shrieks, and if it weren't for the music and other conversations going on in the bar, she's sure everyone else would've heard them. 

She shrugs. "Uh. When he tattooed me. The first time. Forever ago."

Noah's mouth parts and looks at her, and then at Nicholas, then back to her again.

"Wow..."

Her stomach swirls with nerves and she's sure he's just shocked and not

angry, especially when the way his grip has not loosened on her thigh one bit. She's more nervous about Nicholas, gazing up at him but he's already looking at her. She feels hot under his gaze, and there's something behind the look that she can't fucking read and it's driving her crazy.

"That's..." Noah starts again but stops, throat moving as he swallows, blinking between the both of them again. 

"It was forever ago. Before you guys were even a thing." Nicholas says quickly, placing a reassuring hand on Noah's thigh.

Noah just nods, dazed, and maybe it was the alcohol catching up making his reaction this way - whatever this way is - but the way he's looking at them... Naomi chews on her bottom lip, her hand finding Noah's that was still placed on her thigh. 

"Are you upset?" She questions, fear rising inside of her.

"No." He's quick with his response, turning his full attention to her. "I'm just... thinking."

"...About what?" 

"I..." Noah pauses, tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip, eyes shifting between both her and Nicholas. "I think you guys should kiss."

She freezes, the hand she had on Noah's thigh digging into the fabric of his jeans. Her eyes dart to Nicholas' and she's sure they have the same exact look on their faces - eyes blown wide, lips parted, staring at Noah like he had three fucking heads because... what the fuck? 

Naomi notices the way Nicholas shifts uncomfortably in his seat, lips pressed in a line as his eyes dart between her and Noah. She catches his gaze and holds it steadily, trying to ask him quietly what the hell do we do? without actually saying anything. His jaw twitches, and then he swallows, and tears his gaze from hers to look at Noah.

"Isn't that... weird?" He starts, voice rough. He clears his throat. "You're dating."

Noah doesn't say anything at first, his blown-out eyes staring at the two of them sitting either side of him. Naomi's eyes drop to Nicholas' hand that's still placed on Noah's thigh, and then to her own hand that's wrapped in between her boyfriend's. Her stomach swirls, heat builds up inside of her just at the very image of Noah pressed against the two of them, and she's reminded of their interaction on stage. She bites down on her bottom lip and squeezes Noah's hand, causing the boy to look at her.

"I wanna see it." Noah's words are slurred together, and she's reminded that the boy is very much drunk, as are her and Nicholas. 

"Noah, babe, I don't know-"

"Please." He cuts her off and his words are desperate, voice edging on a whine as he stares at her with wide eyes. "It's okay. I... I wanna see it."

Both her and Nicholas share a look across Noah, and she's sure they're both filled with uncertainty, but she can't help but want to do it so badly. Especially now that Noah is asking for it - practically begging. He wants them to kiss. He wants to see it. Why? She's not sure, but God does she want it. 

And with the way Nicholas is staring at her, it's safe to assume he wants it too.

"Okay." She says slowly, peeling her eyes away from Nicholas to look at her boyfriend. "As long as you're okay with it... and Nicky is, too."

Noah looks at Nicholas expectantly and she sees the older male swallow, eyes bouncing between the two of them before he nods slowly.

"Yeah." He clears his throat. "Yeah, I'm okay with it."

Great. Cool. Fantastic.

She swallows the lump in her throat, anxiety climbing its way through her as the two of them shift around to get into a much more comfortable position. Noah stays between them, watching with eager eyes, and Naomi doesn't dare take her hand away from his, his touch keeping her grounded.

What the fuck is happening? He has to realize how crazy this is, right? He's just drunk. He would never let this happen if he was sober, thinking more clearly. Though, her mind drifts to the saying of drunk words being your sober thoughts, and her body heats up just at the mere thought of Noah thinking about this before. 

She sucks in a shaky breath as Nicholas leans towards her, his forehead pressing against her own. Noah's hand squeezes hers, his thumb sliding against her skin reassuringly, but the nerves in her stomach won't quit. 

Her eyes flutter shut the second their lips meet, and she can't stop the gasp that seems to leave her. His lips were soft, not as soft as Noah's, but much softer than she ever expected. They both don't move at first, just sit there with their lips pressed together, until she feels Noah's hands squeeze hers again. She moves first, lips dragging across Nicholas' and she physically shakes at the noise he makes, a groan from deep inside his chest. He reaches up with a shaky hand to cup the side of her face and she wraps her free hand around his wrist, keeping it there as their lips move together.

Naomi swears her heart is about to burst out of her chest when she pulls away from Nicholas. Silence surrounds them as their eyes open and her breath catches in her throat, lips still buzzing from the kiss, and she so desperately wants to lean back in. She doesn't though, instead her tongue darts out to swipe across her bottom lip and her entire body heats up as Nicholas' eyes follows it, before dragging his eyes back up her face.

"My turn." Noah's voice pulled Naomi's gaze away from Nicholas, looking into her boyfriend's wide, brown eyes. He looked just about as dazed as she felt, his skin flushed pink from the alcohol and possibly something else. He purses his lips into a pout. "Please?"

She smiles easily, her hand that was resting against his thigh coming up to cup the side of his face. Noah melts into the touch instantly, turning his head to nose at the palm of her hand. "Of course, baby."

They fall into each other naturally, Naomi's lips finding home against Noah's. It felt right - like it always had. Even in her drunken state it still felt as if this was where she was supposed to be, and with Nicholas being so close, her heart nearly jumped its way out of her chest at just how perfect everything felt. Like he was always meant to be there, with them. 

Noah's kisses are desperate, a bit sloppy, something that tends to happen when he drinks, and Naomi's hand falls from his cheek to the back of his neck, fingers working through his hair. She tugs gently, a silent way of telling him to relax, breathe, and the whimper he lets out against her lips goes straight to her core.

Fuck.

They pull a part and Noah already looks wrecked, lips red, shiny, and swollen. His flushed face even darker now, eyes dilated like crazy. He looks like she could tell him to do anything, and he’d do it, simply only to please her. She smiles sweetly at him, gently scratching at his scalp and leaning back in to press a kiss to the side of his mouth.

"Was that good enough for you?" She teases in a gentle voice when she pulls back.

Noah nods but doesn't say a word, staring at her for a moment before he glances off to the side. Nicholas sits beside them quietly, patiently, but with the same blown-out, flustered gaze Noah has. She's sure she looks similar to them, a slight twinge of color to her cheeks, eyes wild. She swallows.

"Nicky," Noah hums from beside her, shifting his body towards Nicholas'. Her hand falls from his hair and back to his thigh. "Can I kiss you too?"

He says it so gently, with so much care, that Naomi's heart clenches beneath her chest. Noah looks back at her for a moment, eyes wide now with a bit of fear, silently asking permission and she nods. Of course, she does, because why would she ever deny him of this? She sees it now, sees what Analise had been trying to tell her just mere weeks ago. 

If these boys haven't noticed it yet, they will soon.

She looks at Nicholas now, seeing the hesitancy behind his eyes and she gives him a nod as well. She watches his throat bob as he swallows before his gaze lands on Noah's again, giving him a timid smile.

"Is that what you want?"

Noah nods, a little too enthusiastically that Naomi has to hold back a laugh. "Yes. I want it." 

Another glance is shared between Naomi and Nicholas and the older boy nods to himself, as if preparing for what's about to happen. 

"Okay."

At first no one moves, and Naomi watches the two boys expectantly as they stare at each other. Noah's gaze falls to Nicholas' lips and his tongue darts out to swipe over his own before a whine pulls itself from his chest and he's reaching out, fingers curling around Nicholas' shirt to bring him closer. Nicholas lets him do it, eyes shutting as their lips finally meet and Naomi freezes. She doesn't move, doesn't even fucking breathe, but watches both boys kiss in front of her.

Noah whines against Nicholas' lips, desperate and borderline pitiful, and Naomi's thighs press together. The noise travels straight to her core and her fingers dip into Noah's thigh, her grip tightening. She watches carefully as Nicholas brings a hand up to Noah's cheek, cupping his cheek like had done hers moments ago while the younger trying to deepen the kiss. Their lips slide together messily, hungry for more, and the only thing she can think of right now is how good they look together and how she desperately wants to be between them.

She has to push the thought of her lips sliding across Noah's, Nicholas behind her and his lips attached to her neck, so far to the back of her mind or else... she's not sure what she would do. But whatever it is she can't do it, especially here. In a very public place. Her heart rate picks up just at the thought of someone catching them and almost as if they could feel her distress, the two boys finally part.

Nicholas looks at her first, eyes darting between her and Noah. She swallows at the sight of his hand still placed against Noah's cheek, thumb brushing against his skin.

"Happy?"

Noah nods in his hold, dazed, and at a loss for words. Nicholas smiles, small, but soft, and it's the smile she knows that he's saved for only them, and the quick pace of her heart slows down for just a moment. This feels right. The thought doesn't scare her as much.

Noah finally looks at her, hooded eyes and a dazed smile settling on his lips, and she can't help but reach forward, pushing some hair out of his face and tucking it loosely behind his ear. He turns his head slightly, pressing another kiss against the base of his palm and her heart squeezes beneath her chest. She feels Nicholas' eyes on her, and she turns to look at him.

Two things happened at that moment. 

She notices the exact moment of realization flash through Nicholas' eyes when they finally meet hers, and she watches them widen. She's not sure what exactly he's realizing, because she thinks he's known about his own feelings for some time now, but perhaps... Perhaps he's realizing that he's not the only one in this. That he’s not alone.

She can only hope, though.

The soft realization is soon overtaken by another, eyes widening even more, and her skin runs cold. The softness is gone and now replaced by fear, and his face drains from any color. His hand drops from Noah's cheek and scoots away from him, trying to put some distance between the three of them. 

He's panicking. 

"Nicky..." She starts, sobering up quickly. 

"I'm okay." He sounds anything but and pushes himself up and out of the booth. "I'm okay. I just - I need air."

Noah stirs beside her, and he scoots closer to the edge of the booth, trying to reach out for Nicholas. "Where are you going?"

Nicholas looks down at him, and then her, and his expression is pained, like he's battling with himself internally. Naomi's heart drops.

"I'll be back, okay?" He rushes out, giving Noah a quick and very strained smile. "I just. Need air. It's hot. I'm drunk. Not a good mix."

And then he's gone, pushing his way through the crowd to get as far away from them as he could. Naomi feels like she could cry, the moment sobering her up too fucking much because the moment was finally catching up to her.

What the fuck did they do?

"Is he okay?" Noah's voice breaks her out of her thoughts, and she blinks away the tears she hadn't realized were building up, looking towards her boyfriend.

"Yeah." She says, but she feels like it’s a lie, and reaches forward to smooth some of his hair back. "Just needed some air. He'll be back."

That seems to be enough for Noah, his shoulders dropping in relief and a satisfied smile stretches across his lips. Naomi tries to smile back, but she knows it doesn't reach her eyes and she leans forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

"Let's get some water, yeah? I don't think we need any more shots."

He agrees easily, letting her drag him through the crowd to try and find some water, and they eventually bump into Jolly and Folio on the way. She tries to act normal, even when Jolly asks where Nicholas ran off to, but he seems to be satisfied when she tells him that he just went outside for a breather, he'll be back. No one questioned it again, even when they didn't see him for the rest of the night. 

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #nicholas ruffilo x ofc #noah sebastian x ofc #mine

[uchihaharlot]

Soooo, Madara fan is here, thanks for your last head canon about him. ^^

Can I get "what if Madara falls in love with the girl who is much younger than him (let's say he is 35? And she is 18 or 19). 😔🙏

Hello my little Madara nymphomaniac 🥵🥰 I did not forget you!! ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥 Sometimes inspiration finds me at awkward times.

NSFW; mild grooming; age gap fuckery; consensual; he brings all the girls to the yard; obsessed.

— Madara is definitely the kind of man to go for green girls. The younger, the better. Though he won’t touch one that’s not an adult. He’s a pervert, not a pedophile.

— It’s not something he seeks out either, these types of situations work best if the girl comes to him. He is always accepting the warmth of a woman, especially if she’s fawning over him and such.

— Absolutely loves, loves, loves fucking them into stupid little babbling idiots. These are the kind of girls who just broke up with their first boyfriend and never had a real man inside of them. Probably never had an actual orgasm until he rearranges their pussy. H O L Y Mackerel, when he does lobotomize them with pleasure.

— Now this particular girl though, she’s fiesty and demanding. Knows what she wants. Rocks the boat just as much as he does. Actually has Madara on edge before he’s even ready to cum. And it’s not that she’s different from most girls her age, but damn if she isn't liquid katon in his palms and on his cock.

— Edging him to his heart and cocks content until he flips her over and fucks her rotten into his mattress. The sounds she makes are sweeter than any sakura tree in bloom. Filling her soft cunt to the brim until she’s panting his name over and over. With no end in sight, they fuck like they had been well acclimated to one another for years.

— At the end of their little tryst, Madara can't decide who is more desperate for more. Him or her? Several rounds ensue until the late early hours of the morning. By the time he wakes up she's gone, which is unusual. Madara will typically spent the next several hours coaxing these young girls out of his bed and off his cock. But her?

— She just door dashed his cock and slipped out under the radar. There's something arousingly unholy about this situation. That unregistered fear of missing out kicks in and, well, he's an Uchiha. They tend to fuck hard and fall fast—usually on their terms, but damn she got him good. How aggravating it is to Madara that the seemingly obtainable has slipped through his fingers. Its not that he really wants her, but he feels slighted by her ability to fuck now and talk later never.

— Ok, maybe he is a bit jaded. More than jaded, actually. Since feelings are like the common cold to an Uchiha, he goes about waiting it out...not today old man. For some reason, it's not his cock that aches for her return, but a deeper throb. One right underneath the ribcage that makes his throat lump up with a sense of forlorn and abandonment. So, with this...uncharacteristic and intrusive as hell mindset. Madara searches for her.

— Elicits the help of friends, under the guise that she stole something valuable of his (his poor Uchiha heart). Which, to him isn't necessarily a lie....but not the full truth. He's mad with lust, would be ignorant enough to call it love almost. But that's too soon. His corneas don't make this any easier, he replays their salacious night together over and over until he has every curve and speckle on her skin memorized. 10/10 jacks off to it.

— When they finally do cross paths again, the unfamiliar squeeze of his heartstrings is nearly as taut as when she had came all over his length those some nights ago. Madara will act as indifferent as he can, but fuck if he doesn't look like dog on the street. Eyes ravaging her fully clothed form as she stands before him.

— If falling into this sort of thing for her is something she will agree to, there is not a single place on this earth she can ever hide that Madara's affections won't follow and swallow her whole. She's basically going to be treated as acting Uchiha royalty, for as long as she is by his side. No other girl dare crosses paths with this woman and Madara is finding his feelings easier to accept than he initially imagined.

#uchiha madara #madara uchiha #uchiha clan #uchiha headcanons #uchiha family #madara headcanons

[crying-pan420]

whoop part 9

ahhhhhhhhhh

———————————————

Aria, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

———————————————

 Phillip: My dad has a spiked collar.

Phillip: *dog

———————————————

 Marcus: I'm allergic to death.

———————————————

 Phillip: Why would you think any of this was a good idea?

Leo: Probably because I’m a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence.

Phillip:

Leo: I don’t know how you keep forgetting this.

———————————————

 Carrie: I've met a lot of pricks in my time, but you, Aria, are a fucking cactus.

———————————————

 Diego: My ultimate goal is to punch God in the eye, just to spite him one last time.

———————————————

*at a zoo*

Gail: What are they in for?

Alex: Gail, this isn't prison.

Gail: So they can leave?

Alex: No, but-

Gail, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

———————————————

Isaac: My head hurts.

Gail: That’s your brain trying to comprehend its own stupidity.

———————————————

Seymour : I hate Leo.

Isaac: "Hate' is a strong word.

Seymour : I have strong opinions.

———————————————

Paloma: If you got arrested what would be the charges?

Leo: Theft.

Gail: Disturbing the peace.

Isabelle: Aggravated assault.

Calypso: Arson.

Alex: All of the above. In that order, probably.

———————————————

Phillip: Is this about me?

Carrie: No.

Phillip: Then I've lost interest.

———————————————

Isabelle: Hey guys, today Leo pushed me, so I'm starting a kickstarter to put them down.

Isabelle: The benefits of killing them are that I would get pushed way less.

———————————————

Isabelle: "Ignorance more frequently begets confidence than does knowledge" - Charles Darwin

Marcus: What the fuck? Begets isn't a word. Quit trying to make up words, fuckface.

———————————————

Isabella: You were wise to seek help from the world's most deadly weapon.

Isabella: It's me.

———————————————

Phillip: A party is a celebration of a life, bringing people together to let the guest of honor know how much they’re loved. Wren has done so much for us. This is our chance to do something for them.

Amira: By forcing them to have fun at a party that they don’t want to be at?

Phillip: I knew you’d understand.

———————————————

Leo: You know I think my life has value.

Isabelle: Who are you and what have you done with Leo?!

———————————————

Wren: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

———————————————

Lemon: What have you done with Isabella?

Echo: Nothing. Why, do you think I should?

———————————————

Carrie: I've connected the two dots.

Huì yǐng: You didn't connect shit.

Carrie: I've connected them.

———————————————

Gail: Happy Scorpio season. If you have to burn a bridge, do it safely!

Isabella: With NAPALM.

———————————————

Emmy: Why did you guys dress up as each other for Halloween?

Robin: Lemon is the scariest thing I could think of!

Lemon: Robin told me I should pick the dumbest costume possible.

———————————————

Aria: Life could be worse, Lemon.

Lemon: Life could be a lot better too!

———————————————

Isabelle: I sort of did something and I need some advice, but I don't want a lot of judgment and criticism.

Leo: And you came to me?

———————————————

Diego: Pros and cons of dating me.

Diego: Pros. You'll be the cute one.

Diego: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

———————————————

Diego, when Paloma walks in: Oh, hey, I'm just making pizza.

Diego: *accidentally smacks Echo in the face with the baking sheet*

———————————————

Emmy: What do rainbows mean to you?

Aria: Gay rights.

Wren: There's money.

Paloma: The sign of God's promise to never destroy the whole Earth with a flood.

Isabella: It is an optical phenomenon that separates sunlight into its continuous spectrum when the sun shines on raindrops.

———————————————

*Sarah Marie rushes by with an armful of water bottles*

Aria: What's going on?

Wren: Sarah Marie wouldn't drink water.

Aria: ...And?

Wren: And I asked them how fast they could chug an entire bottle.

Sarah Marie, loudly: 16 OUNCES IN TEN SECONDS, BITCHES!

———————————————

Wren: You use humor to deflect your trauma.

Huì yǐng: Awww, thanks-

Wren: That’s not a good thing.

Huì yǐng: All I’m hearing is that you think I’m funny.

———————————————

Diego: On the count of three, what’s your favorite cake?

Diego & Robin: One, two, three-

Diego & Robin: Chocolate cake, peanutbutter frosting, and chocolate chunks!

Sarah Marie: Our turn, Evi! One, two, three-

Sarah Marie: Vanilla!

Evi: I’ve never had cake before. What is cake?

———————————————

Phillip: FUCK THE CHAIR. PARDON ME FOR MAKING MYSELF COMFORTABLE DURING A SINCERE HEART TO HEART DISCUSSION WITH A DEAR FRIEND IN NEED!

Phillip: BUT THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO CEASE STRADDLING THIS DEEPLY OFFENSIVE PIECE OF FURNITURE! AWAY WITH YE, FOUR LEGGED TEMPTRESS! DISTRACT US NO MORE WITH THE MOST BASIC AND UTILITARIAN FORM OF COMFORT YOU SUPPLY!

Lemon: Phillip just threw a tantrum about a chair.

Lemon: I just won Phillip Tantrum Bingo.

———————————————

Evi: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them??

Marcus: What the hell do you do?

Evi: I die? What kinda question...

———————————————

#rtc #rtc oc #rtc sona #choirsona #choirsona incorrect quotes #I feel like they’re getting more accurate

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say no to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

knight!natasha x lady!reader

sort of royalty au (there’s social hierarchy and a king and queen and knights and commoners and all that so- yeah it’s a royalty au nvm lmao)

warnings: this is fluff, angst, uh, basically everything but smut and serious angst.

word count: 2.5k, starting off short before we get into this 

part one!

also, to the very few people who look for fics up here- i promise i’m alive, sorry for being m.i.a! work and school are bodying me right now 

A lot could change within a year.

In a year, one was expected to grow wiser and older, and for you, because you were a woman, prettier. And because you did all three of those things in one year, you were herded off like cattle from your small farm, where the old pig you would soon be forced to call “husband” had seen you in the first place, and carted away to his large estate. You were supposed to be his wife, bear his children, and love him unconditionally even though you knew nothing about him, and he was supposed to do not even half of that for you. He had chosen you purely because your father had an abundance of wheat and animals, and he thought you were nice looking. He would surely never go hungry if he had the owner of a relatively large farm’s daughter with him.

Regardless of his reasoning for wanting to make you his wife, it ended up happening. You cried yourself to sleep the night before, and when you were done consummating the horrid marriage, you cried after he fell asleep, unable to shut your own eyes. That was how you spent your first night at the female counterpart to your lord husband, and as Lady Mirellis.

The marriage was loveless. The only thing you got out of it was a nice roof over your head and some silky clothing that made you feel like you were betraying who you really were. He was a brute and a pig, and he hardly ever spoke to you other than to tell you to get on your back, your knees, or something else as equally vile. You were the lady of his large manor, considered a small castle, but that was all you were. You made friends with the staff around, and that made things just the tiniest bit better. He was still cruel and crude, still insanely aggravating, and getting more and more angry with each month that you weren’t carrying his child.

And then, all of a sudden, he grew ill. And, within a month after he fell ill, he died. And then you were a single woman who had a large estate to her name, and a growing line of suitors who wanted nothing more than to have their last names attached to the great patch of land. You were the lady of the house without a lord, still young and still capable of marriage. After a large fuss over whether or not a young woman from your background was fit to take over, you had inherited everything.

So, yes, a lot could change in a year. And you decided that the changes that took place in that year were ones that you could barely handle.

§§

You knew exactly what the letter with the King’s Seal on it was when it was put into your hand, and you very easily guessed the contents of it.

You supposed that you should have seen it coming. Miraculously, your late husband and lord had gotten out of the Hosting, which could have been seen as treasonous or dishonorable if he had been any less careful. You grew up on a farm, and you had no idea how to go about denying or questioning royal decree, so you weren’t going to. You were going to have to Host, for the first time in your life.

Your family was never important enough to have to do it, so you had no experience with it, other than knowing that a high up lord of a small castle, or big estate, whatever one wanted to call it, was in charge of having a knight in their home while the knight completed his year long training. The training was said to come from within, and the job of the knight was to be a good, honorable guest, and to come back to the castle after their year expired as a new and improved person.

But it was rare that they truly soul searched, you had heard. Mainly because they were ninety nine percent male and thought with their penises more than their brains and hearts. The Hosting was a knight’s last stop before true knighthood, more or less a time that humbled young knights. It was a test of the true intentions of a knight, the true desires of a man who wished for glory and authority.

“For you, Milady.” You grimaced inwardly at the title, the title that you used to have to call the lady that you used to bring barrels of hay to on Sunday mornings. You nodded at the young boy, a smile on your face. He was new, and it was clear that this was his first task that involved him to speak to a “higher up” person.

You patted his head. “Thank you,” you said, and his eyes widened comically before he laughed and ran away, obviously shocked by the way you spoke to him back.

It wasn’t against the law, but it was frowned upon for nobles to speak to servants more than necessary. A noble person was not required to have manners or ask kindly for things, and when they did, it was certainly an out of the ordinary experience. You knew that well enough.

You broke the red seal and took in a deep breath, going to sit at your late husband’s desk (that you of course inherited, as you inherited everything the man had) and finding your name in perfect and Royal handwriting.

Lady Mirellis,

As you know, the time for the selection of The Hosting has come. Your house was not a host during the previous Hosting, therefore, you will be required to sponsor a knight this year. Out of respect for your late husband and all he has done for me, I will choose a knight for you, a knight that I trust. You will be safe with my choice, and the year will flow smoothly. Once again, I am sorry for your loss.

Please expect your knight within the fortnight, Lady Mirellis.

With respect, King Anthony Stark.

§§

Two weeks later, your keep was buzzing. You hated hosting things, even if they were short dinners. And you knew that you were going to hate hosting a person for an entire year. A brand new knight who was full of himself, no less.

King Anthony had given you what he thought was going to be an easy charge for a reason. New knights were known for being rowdy, disgusting, perverted, and authoritative when they shouldn’t have been. No lady should ever have to deal with the crude words or behavior of a man—certainly not. And with you and your poor husband gone, that meant that no one was there to help you.

You appreciated the kindness, but it was obvious that every man thought that women were only an extension of their husbands. If you weren’t able to handle the loud voices and taunting shouts of men and boys, you would have melted or turned to dust by the time you were thirteen years old. If you had survived a man who carted you off and away from your family like you were cattle, you could handle a boy who was staying under your roof.

Nonetheless, your people were busy, and so were you. They were making accommodations to the largest guest room, because it was to be someone’s for an entire year. They were cleaning things that you never thought would be cleaned, washing random sheets and hanging them to dry. And you? You were making the welcoming package.

You had never made one before, but you were trying your hardest. It was more or less a care package to make the knight feel comfortable. It was a starter kit, so that they wouldn’t have to ask for much or seem unfit for knighthood, because it was all about pride. So help anyone above, you wouldn’t be dealing with a knight with a bruised ego.

“Men,” you scoffed out, rolling your eyes as you fluffed the silk pillowcase and folded the top of the woven basket over, closing in everything and tying the top with a bow. 

“Y/N,” a woman’s voice called out, and you turned to it with a gentle smile.

Of course it was Wanda. Her and her brother were always by your side, ever since you had arrived at the keep. Pietro was the messenger boy for Lord Mirellis, because he was so fast on his feet. He delivered a message meant to go hundreds of leagues away and came back within days, when it would take others weeks. You liked Pietro a lot. He was a funny man, cheeky, but he knew his boundaries with people, whether they were lowborn or highborn. He had the same amount of respect for everything, and you admired that about him.

Wanda however, was your favorite person in the castle. She was the first kind face that you saw when you walked into the keep. She was the first person to actually ask you if you wanted help being dressed or brushing your hair. She was able to see that you needed help with your corset before you even asked. There were so many trivial things that Wanda did for you that made you so loyal to the friendship you shared, but there was one thing you were sure to never forget.

She had been the one to help you out of bed after a rough consummation night. She was also the only woman who had offered you even a sliver of sympathy, and for that, she was your greatest ally, and on a deeper level, a true friend. 

You had barely even seen her for more than five minutes before you woke up in bed by yourself the morning after that horrid night, crying silent tears and feeling sore between your legs. A knock sounded on the door, and instead of her turning away and apologizing for coming in on such an improper moment, she shut the door and asked you if you needed help, without any fear of being scolded. Wanda Maximoff was different. That’s why you liked her so much.

She was standing beside you as you waited, even though waiting for a knight was somewhat improper. You were supposed to wait inside and have them knock on your castle door, and you were to welcome them inside and have a warm dinner ready. That was how it was always supposed to go, but you decided not to do that.

You were standing outside, like the lady you had been forced to become. Your chin was slightly lifted and your hands were at your sides, even though you were desperate to fiddle with your thumbs. You took in a deep breath as you heard the sound of a carriage coming, horses and the chatter of men getting louder with each passing moment.

You would be a liar if you said that you weren’t scared to have a man in your house that you didn’t know. Not only would he be a man, but he would be a man that knew how to do things that most didn’t, such as how to properly wield a sword. You were a woman alone, a widow to a lord, and people had tried things with you before, ever since your husband had died. Most of the time, those things ended up with their hands being cut off as the legal and unyielding punishment for their attempted crimes.

“No one here is going to let a stupid knight hurt you, you know.” Pietro had come out of nowhere, chest puffed out as he looked to his sister for a moment, and then back at you. “Wanda is practically with you every second of every day, and I’m never too far.” It was true. There were guards around, as well, but you were still scared.

“If you don’t like it this year, you can always say no next year.” Wanda offered, but you whined under your breath when you remembered that this was no visit. The man would be living with you for an entire year. “And King Anthony said he would be giving you a man he trusted to sleep under your roof. I trust his word.” 

“As do I,” you said quickly, ringing out your hands one last time before the carriage got closer. “I’ll be fine, you two. Thank you.” And they knew just how grateful you were for them.

The carriage was being pulled by two white horses, both looking around carelessly and cluelessly as the coachman pulled them to a stop. “Lady Mirellis,” he said, looking you up and down, clearly judging you for not yielding to tradition. “It is very kind of you to meet us outside.”

“I thought it may be easier to begin the tour early,” you said, remembering at the last moment to school your voice into sounding ladylike. The stark difference between your public voice and the one that you spoke to Wanda and Pietro with always made Wanda smile a bit, and you knew that you would have laughed if you were looking at her. “I don’t want to give my new guest too large of a culture shock. I am not quite sure if he would appreciate being hoarded inside a place he hasn’t seen before.”

The coachman gave you an odd look, almost like he wasn’t understanding what you were saying. Or maybe, why you were saying it. But, he knew that because of your status, your word outweighed his, and he would do as you said. Your heart was beating nearly out of your chest as you watched him climb out of his chair and walk around, and you saw his hand wrap around the handle of the white and gold carriage.

There was a flash of brilliant red. That was all you saw at first, and then you saw shiny armor, glinting in the sun. Your eyes trailed up from the shoes that you knew were crafted specifically for knights, up to the legs and then to the breastplate, which you noticed was curved outwards. Your brows furrowed as your eyes got stuck in that place, and you willed yourself to believe that it was a trick of the eyes. There was a pinch on your arm, and you realized that you had been staring without speaking for much too long. In your embarrassment, your eyes flickered up to meet the man’s, and then, you nearly choked.

The knight was no man at all.

*****

so this is a series! this idea has been cooking up in my head for a while now, and i figured it was finally time to go through with it! i’m really excited about this one, and i’ve already got most of it planned out. i hope you guys liked this!

also- if you would like to be tagged, you are free to ask! (bold of me to assume that any of y’all want a notif for this bye 😭) please interact with this if you liked it, it makes me so happy and motivated to hear from you guys!

#natasha x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov fluff #natasha romanov x reader #knight au #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #my fics #natasha romanoff series #knight!natasha #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

[urstruly-ghst]

Hc of (if its ok) where dorm leaders' s/o suddenly runs and hides behind them, they were running away from a person who they accidentally spilled water ? And they are just- really scared maybe crying (idk) ? And how would the boys react to someone trying to hurt their lover ??? Thank you !

fight or flight, i choose flight. also, if someone intimidates you, in any sort of way, that you know is wrong. tell someone who can deal the problem sufficiently. anD huhu sorry this took so long to makeee

riddle rosehearts

You were drinking water on the go, you just got back from a mission that Crowley sent you on and you really wanted a break. Catch a break and probably rest on your now comfortable bed (Crowley finally invested money on you).

But you had a very important meeting with Riddle, and heavens know how scary it is to be late on a meeting with Riddle. So, you really rushed to go into the Mirror that leads to Heartslabyul.

However, accidents happen almost everywhere, chaos can reign even in the most peaceful of places. By that, you accidentally spilled a butt load of water on a Heartslabyul student, sadly, it wasn't the one you were very close with.

It was the same dude who you kind of aggravated by breaking a certain egg on the carbonara. He was scared to approach you at first, after all, you were with a certain ex-delinquent, and how you are a lover of a certain Red Tyrant. But now you're alone.

He cracked open his eyes, moving his fringe to reveal a stare that was terrifying to say the least. But as soon as he focused his vision on your form, his eyes widened with familiarity. He knows you too well.

At first, you tried to apologise, but he chuckled meanly, knowing you're all alone on this one.

The delinquent cracked his fists and smiled meanly to you, no words were spoken, but you can tell the longer you stayed— the beating of you would be brutal.

Tears sprang and soon you screamed, running in a random direction, trying to get away from the student. You were scared, that man looked like he was ready to bring hell.

Luckily for you, someone heard your scream, that someone is your beloved— Riddle. Riddle was absolutely on the edge when you didn't appear. About to scold you actually.

But he heard your scream, he knows your voice! He whipped his head over to the sound, but what happened was too fast.

You slipped behind him, holding his cape, crying and pleading that Riddle has to help you.

Riddle, being Riddle, was mad and instantly put his dorm head status to the test. By test, he stood upright, and his firm face on.

Riddle basically tried to assert dominance over the person, and it worked! The delinquent was no longer fuming, but he did have a scared face, he was about to run away again...

Until... "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" was shouted, and the delinquent struggled as he tripped, collar on his neck.

Said delinquent was forced to do more chores and a 3 page long apology addressed to yoj.

leona kingscholar

You planned a date with Leona, and he (somehow) agreed to it. However, prior to your date, you had a small small errand with Crowley.

It was just get a pale of water from the well, found in the Courtyard, you shrugged off the weird ask, money was bound to be their.

Despite the fact you were careful, you slipped and tumbled, causing you to spill the pale of water to the group of bullies that was just lounging on the courtyard.

That was the beginning of the chase.

For someone who lounges a lot, he was somehow on time on your date. Unlike his usual dates with you, he wanted to spice up and give a nice outdoor date.

Ruggie also bugged him to do it, just so he could avoid chores, but also gave him a good reason to. You might need air and some excitement!

However, you're ten minutes late, which is unusual. You planned the date, you ought to be early! But, something was wrong, he can feel it. He feels it in his gut. You could be in trouble!

Leona knows when you are in trouble, he memorized you already. So, he has theories on what may have happened to you, and all seemed not good outcomes.

And, he was right! As you came rushing into the scenic part of your date, disheveled and crying. A pack of bullies hot on your trail, a mocking smile gracing their lips.

Leona, whose partner was his jewel, was ready to defend and kill. You ran towards him, your heavy breathing from the running somewhat calmed down, as he put you behind him.

He bared his fangs, a growl escaping his throat, as he smugly stood proud and tall. He rose an eyebrow to the bullies, which they cowered in.

Leona banished them from both of your sight, and hugging you tightly, asking if they hurt you and why did they do such things.

He made sure some hyena was going to have a bunch of helpers for the chores!

azul ashengrotto

A bad contract case was common for Azul, he had a lot of experience with such bad mouthed people. He made sure you weren’t going to be affected with such bad people, especially he has such a strong love for you

Now, usually after a few words, they become really compliant, if they are a bad and tough nut to crack, Those were the times he sent in the Leech brothers, they deal with the tough customers.

Azul is always safe, he has contracts, the twins and you! However, that sense of security will tumble once a particular customer was being quite the fuss in the Mostro Lounge   

That sense of security was broken down one day, when you came in, rushing with tears streaming on your sad face. Fear was evident in your eyes.

You ducked behind him, asking for protection that only he can provide, which made him scared as he knows he can't fight physically. Truth be told, he was scared as hell.

You see, you made rounds in Mostro Lounge a lot, usually carrying a drink to help with Azul's survey of customers. You checked on whether the customers are storming in or not. In summary, you analyze and people watch.

But one day, whilst drinking a glass of water, you tripped. A moment after your trio, the glass had been emptied and spilled on a very pissed off customer.

The said customer was mad at Azul, he didn't keep the deal, now he wanted revenge on such. When you tripped and spilled water on the (delinquent) customer, he had burst out laughing and started to threaten and make up ideas on how to hurt you

Thus, a wild chase of chaos ensue, many tried to help you— but you didn't want to involve innocent customers. So, you ran to Azul, knowing he probably has something to fix this.

The twins were gone too, so you were alone on this journey of chaos. Your aching feet ran through the dimly lit part of the lounge to meet Azul's office.

Now, bursting through the door of the office doors of Azul, you had a fear driven adrenaline as you rushed behind Azul.

The Twins were there too, Jade helping Azul sort out the contracts and Floyd listing names of potential bad contracts that won't pay up.

Your arrival was unexpected, and it didn't help how you were crying your eyes out to the trio. You babbled on about the delinquent, but the tears and heavy breathing was not helping you form a sentence that one can comprehend.

The delinquent burst in, and the trio was startled at that, but it made you scream and hold onto Azul tighter. The atmosphere felt tense, and everyone knew that something bad is going to happen.

"Jade, Floyd... You know, he seems familiar. Remember him?? Oh, and it seems he made quite a fuss to my angel fish.."

kalim al-asim

It was another party at Sacrabia, the festivities begin with a joy and rowdy crowds. This was the norm for most parts.

However, a bitter look was on one's face, a certain delinquent student from Savanaclaw. He was bitter as the is party happening, no one knew why. But no one dared to approach, after all... His scars and bruised knuckles were signs.

Now, the festivities were starting to get more and more hyped— lots starting to jump and rejoice in such ways that was so rowdy.

You, Kalim's darling, was just jumping and smiling as the party seems to be growing more. You lost track of Kalim a few minutes, he said he was going to get something special for both of you, so he slipped away from the party.

Drinks were serving like crazy, the party making everyone crave sweet or refreshing foods and drinks. That being said, you were now getting pushed by many and many students, causing your glass of water spilling on someone. The delinquent.

You tried to apologise, grabbing your napkin, but the student grunted and glared at you. Everyone kept partying, but some distanced themselves from you. You gulped and decided to run, abandoning your glass of water and trying to find Kalim or Jamil.

You saw Kalim walk down the stairs, and you pushed through the crowd, crying and pleading to get out of the damned way. Kalim saw you and was confused when you rushed behind him, bawling out your eyes.

He then cried too, feeling bad for your suffering, and crying when he realized a big scary guy as coming! Kalim hugged you and shakily promised that he loves you and will protect you.

Jamil was speeding through the crowd when he saw you running, and ran up to face you and Kalim crying your eyes out. He rose a brow, but then he saw the student. He was glaring accusingly at you.

Jamil sighed and decided to take matters in his own hands.

vil schoenheit

How dare someone make his precious darling cry and hide behind him and Rook? How dare a vile creature made you run and cry?

Now, how did all of this happen? You were enjoying a picnic and then a few moments later you were sobbing and crying for help to save you from a delinquent.

The story was simple, you and Vil were enjoying a nice brunch, when all of a sudden Vil had a call to make. It was odd, as usually the calls don't come at his brunch. Vil ignored it, but the persistent calls made him answer. He sighed, asking for forgiveness that an interruption had to be made.

He was gone for a few minutes, a lot of things were going on and it seemed to irritate Vil.

Apparently, the call was an impromptu meeting, and needed Vil's presence ASAP. It was a modelling shoot not too far, where Vil is needed to replace a sick model. And Vil was also the only one near enough, so they really needed Vil's presence.

You told him to go, which was a very hard time, but he allowed to leave you and pack up. He instructed you to not do anything rash while he was gone. Now, while you bid farewell to Vil, a man came up to you.

Delinquent by the looks of it, he had shaggy hair, preposterous clothing choices and a smirk that felt violating.

You tried to send him off, but he kept on persisting on taking you out. As if he wasn't smart enough to know you belonged to a certain blonde Pomefiore dorm leader.

It bugged you off that you threw a glass of water and ran to the Pomefiore dorm, crying as he threaten to kill you on the spot. Rook heard and saw this, and swooped in to rescue you!

Vil also arrived albeit late, but he saw you run up to him, crying and pleading the delinquent to go away.

"Rook, what is this lousy potato doing here? Oh? Hurting my potato, hm?"

"That won't do.. not at all. I'll leave the work to you, Rook. Do tell me what they have to say about this event."

After giving the troublemaker to Rook's hands, he led the way to the dorm; where he leads you to his room to do a makeover and spa day.

Its self care day!

idia shroud

He shouldn't have gone to the outside! Everything bad seems to happen when he steps out of his room!! Idia would not go out on many occasions, but you were a special case. A very special case.

Yet, he didn’t expect for you to cry behind him, with a big delinquent closing in on you with a very bad grin on their face. He trembled at the thought of having to face a bully! 

You guys were supposed to be on a date by now, why of all days where you get in trouble its this!

How did it even come to this? Well, it was simple. You spilled a buttload of water on the delinquent when doing your weird Crowley assigned. He said to water a few bushes and clean some parts of the school. 

You cleaned furiously, scrubbing the dirty moss walls, spraying a bunch of water with the help of Grim and a few ghosts.

The problem? A delinquent bad boy hangs out in a place where water was bound to be splashed, and then an angry chase began.

Idia tried to think of so many video game or anime moves that could intimidate the fast running delinquent. It was amusing, his constant mumbling and the constant sweat made things funnier. Tough, you need to run or distract him so you can avoid getting punched or become a bloody pulp.

"If I use the "LIGHT BEAM LASER" or the “SWEET DEATH!” it could work.. Oh but those muscles look like he has a lot of AP”

The sweet Ortho was also looking for you, he had a s=nice and sweet pep when you started to persuade his big brother more, this calls for a celebration! 

While looking for both of you, he saw the delinquent running towards the area he saw you earlier. The worry bubbled inside Ortho, so he followed and he grew angry at the man who seemed to have every intention to hurt you!

Preparing a light beam, Ortho shouted “Stay away from Onii-chan!”, then a large beam hit the bully, 

malleus draconia

Malleus was strolling around the area of your dorm, just to visit you and update on his life, and new found treasure places you and him can visit, he made mental notes along the way. Whilst strolling, he saw you and when your eyes met, you ran and cried behind him.

Rage bubbled within the young prince, he always had taken good care of you-- making sure you can be comfortable with him, to see you crying and hiding cowering in fear behind him makes him feel of great sorrow and joy.

His rage took over again when he saw a large bully, clearly scowling at you, and Malleus couldn’t hide his rage. He had risen his green flames, with a frown on his face-- clearly upset at the bully.

Before Malleus can burn the bully, you stopped him, pleading him to spare him and that it wasn’t the bully’s fault. You spilled a water bottle on said bully, while rushing to see Grim and his troublemaking friends.

That explanation didn’t help, it spurred him even more to burn the ground and make sure the bully suffers in a bad way-- just for making you cry and making you uncomfortable. That itself was a punishable crime!

In the end, your crying didn’t stop Malleus to at least leave some burns on said bully. 

‘It was only necessary to burn him, leaving a few burns, a few reminders that you are way more important than him. And you value so much to me.” 

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst headcanons #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #leona kingscholar #twst leona #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #kalim al asim #twst kalim #vil schoenheit #twst vil #idia shroud #twst idia #malleus draconia #twst malleus

[im-lad-ris]

I Won’t Say I’m in Love : Thranduil X Female! Reader

Prompts: “Hi can I request a Thranduil x elf! reader imagine where he likes her but is too prideful to admit it so the reader & Legolas put on a show to make him jealous?” & “Can you write a Thranduil x fem elf! reader imagine, based on the song I won’t say (i’m in love) from the movie Hercules please??”

Submitted by: @elia-the-bibliophile

Words: 2.5K

A/N: Sorry I’ve been so behind on my writings, so much has been going on and its really been stifling my writing process. But I hope you guys enjoy this, I lost the original draft and completely rewrote it from scratch. Also, this has now become one of my longest ficlets! Also its not edited yet but I will go through soon and fix any errors!  Also will add to masterlist soon!

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

The first time the elf king laid his eyes on you, you had been a force to be reckoned with. Your hands were gripping dual swords, and you had made your way across the battlefield with grace, slicing down any orc that had found itself unlucky enough to be in your path.

He had taken a sharp breath and tried to remember that he was standing in a battlefield, but watching you move he felt a tug at his heartstrings. He could not even bare to tear his eyes away from you as he swung his own blade at an orc that had gotten to close for comfort. The foul things head had come off and landed at his feet, and yet he watched as you jumped up and planted your feet into another elf’s back, sending him flying out of the way of an arrow that surely would have ended his life. You had used the momentum to flip around and land back on your feet just in time to deflect another arrow with one blade, while using the other one to slash at the orc nearest you.

Thranduil’s face remained impassive, after all he was a king and he had some image to uphold, but he was finally able to draw his eyes away from you. He knew he had seen your face in his kingdom before, but now you were on his radar. He moved through the battle with new vigor, intent on being able to look upon your face once every filthy orc on the field had had its life snuffed out.

----

“Legolas, you really should not make bets that you know you cannot win” you stated, as another guard tossed a bag of coin into your waiting hand. You smiled as you waggled the coin bag in front of your friend’s face, and all he could manage in response was an incoherent mumble.

You had just drunk Legolas under the table, which was usually how these sorts of bets with him panned out. You couldn’t help but to laugh at him before you lifted him up, supporting him with your shoulder and following the familiar route to his room. As you passed into the royal suite of rooms, you noticed Legolas had fallen asleep while slung across your shoulder. You sighed before you opened the door to his room and threw him, rather ungracefully, onto his bed.  You shook your head, a smile still gracing your lips, before dusting your hands off on your tunic and heading out the door.

As you closed the door and turned around you were met with the rather imposing figure of the king.

“There must be good reason for you to be sneaking out of my sons room at this time of night” Thranduil said, his gaze sharp as he looked down at you, but you could see the twinkle in his eyes. You were unsure what such a twinkle meant in comparison to the glare he sent down at you. You had always been unsure about the way he saw you.

“Aran nín (my king)” You started, as you dipped your head into a bow, “He decided that he could beat me in a drinking contest. I’m simply doing the right thing by escorting him to his bed when he could not even manage to hold his own weight up.” You replied as you tried to hide your smile from remembering your friend’s antics.

His face remained impassive, although you were sure you saw his lip twitch.

“Well to make up for my sons... disagreeable behavior, it would be my pleasure to escort you back to your room, híril nîn (my lady)” he said as he fell into place next to you, his hand resting on the small of your back as you both trekked to your room. You tried your best to stay calm, but you felt as if your heart was in your throat and you were sure Thranduil could hear it. His hand never moved from your back, and when you reached your door, he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your palm before bidding you goodnight. You almost squealed with delight but instead you smiled and kept composure, waiting to lose it as you jumped into bed for the night.

You absolutely adored Thranduil. He was by far the handsomest elf you had ever laid your eyes upon, something you had thought even when you were a small elleth who ran around the kingdom. His eyes were an ocean, and you desired nothing more to swim in them everyday for the rest of your life. The way his hand had been on your back, the way his lips had lingered on your palm, all gave you hope that maybe he felt the same, but reality came crashing down every time you met his gaze. He did not smile, and his face was always hardened with a glare. Somedays you wondered if he felt anything at all, while on others you wished that we would gaze upon you as if you were is beloved, his treasure.

 ----

If there's a prize for rotten judgement,

I guess I've already won that

No woman is worth the aggravation,

That's ancient history, been there, done that!

As Thranduil left from your rooms, he had clenched his hand to his side. He should have said something, but what good would that have done. His pride always got the better of him and caused him to hold his tongue. He was the king! How could he bring himself to admit that he was feeling something for you?

The past had not been kind to him in regards to love. He spoke nothing of Elerrian anymore, and although he cared much for her, she had passed long ago, leaving him alone in a cold world. Looking at you, he felt the tug on his emotions he once had with her. To him, it was almost as if a string of fate had been wrapped around both your pinkies, and it was all he could do to ignore the pulling sensation he felt.

He dare not fall into the pits of love once more, as much as he wished he could. He recalls the day he saw you on the battlefield and had to keep himself in check. He cannot... no, he would not allow himself to admit that he felt something for you. He had learned throughout his long life that love was nothing but heartache and pain, and he refused to lose another who was dear to him.

 ----

She's the Earth and heaven to you,

Try to keep it hidden

Honey, we can see right through you

Boy, ya can't conceal it

We know how ya feel and

Who you're thinking of!

He watched as you sat and laughed with his son, his nails digging into the arm of his seat at the head of the table.

After Thranduil’s first encounter with you, he could not help but make it so you were always near him. He found out your name from Legolas, who apparently was your friend and confidant, which is the most likely reason he knew he had seen you before. After this, he assigned you as one of the main commanders of Mirkwood’s forces due to your battle prowess, however, this had allowed you to not only join his council, but also the privilege of being the only elleth on it.

However, this had also led to Legolas being able to spend more time with you. Thranduil refused to admit that he was jealous. He was the ruler of the kingdom, one such as he did not feel such things. But the more he saw you laugh with his son, the more he had to bite down on his tongue to keep from lashing out in an unsavory manner in front of you.

However, he could not stop his glare towards his son as he watched you fling your head back in laughter, your arm on Legolas’s shoulder as you tried to catch your breath. Legolas turned to look him in the eyes, clearly uncertain as to the nature of the glare he was receiving, although his face did light up as he seemed to put the pieces together.

Thranduil gritted his teeth together, his fingernails leaving crescent indents on his palms as he balled his fists, he was feeling as though he would be ground into dust as he watched Legolas lean over and whisper in your ear as you blushed and nodded. He felt as if he was a mortar, with the pestle grinding his very being into dust. Yet, he was still stone, still unwavering and would not yet yield. He refused to speak with you on the matter of his affections, it was unbecoming of a ruler. He would not stand here and declare his feelings for you, and he most likely never would.

He pushed his emotions down and loosened his fists as his knuckles had turn white, he willed his face to once again be completely impassive, even as he felt as if wanted to crush something with his hands as you and Legolas left together.

 ----

Legolas leaned towards you, his hand on your shoulder and a knowing smile on his lips. He turned and met his fathers fiery gaze once more before he spoke.

“Hey, Y/N, remember that crush you have on my ada (father)?” he asked you. Your eyes went wide, and you sputtered before trying to cover the growing blush on your face with your hands.

“Leg! Do you really need to bring that up here?” you whispered back at him through your hands.

“Of course! Any chance to embarrass you Mellon nîn (my friend)!” he laughed for a second, before his face turned deathly serious. “But back to the point, I think I have a plan of sorts, and I very much believe you’d wish you hear it”

 ----

No chance, no way

I won't say it, no, no

You swoon, you sigh

Why deny it, uh-oh

It's too cliche

I won't say I'm in love

The next evening, the pieces of Legolas’s plan had slid together almost seamlessly.

He sat with you at the front of the corridor, so that any who passed could plainly see what was happening between the two of you. This worked in his favor, especially since his ada usually passed the hall around this time in order to reach the royal suites. Plus, any servants who passed were certain to inform him about the goings on they had witnessed, which would most likely prompt him to rush to you both.

Legolas’s arm was slung over your shoulder and your legs were pulled into his lap, He gently rubbed small circles into your thigh with his fingernails.

Soon, he heard the familiar footsteps of his ada, and began to set the plan into motion.

His hand left your knee and he placed his finger under your chin, using it to keep your face level with his. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dark gray of his ada’s robe as he began to turn into the corridor. Legolas winked at you and pulled you closer, his lips dancing over the shell of your ear. He couldn’t help but whisper softly to you, “I wish I could see the look on his face right now Y/N”, causing you to involuntarily shudder.

After turning the corner, Thranduil was practically seeing red, he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His son, his only child, amorously flirting in his hallways, his kingdom. However., when he saw it was you in Legolas’s arms, he forgot how to breathe, and he couldn’t seem to think clearly. His brain had turned to acid in his skull. His face hardened as he stormed over to you both, grabbing you by the wrist harshly and yanking you away from Legolas and down the hall. After a few twists and turns, he had reached the end of a deserted hallway and pushed you up against the wall.

Before you could even gasp at the contact your body had made with the wall behind you, Thranduil’s lips were on yours. You stood still, his hand still grasping your wrist tight. He pulled away from you, and the look on his face seemed dejected, it was unbecoming of his beautiful features to be contorted into such a look of melancholia.

He released the pressure on your wrist and dropped it before turning away and trying to make off down the corridor.

You couldn’t stop yourself by grabbing him by the back of his robe and pushing him against the wall, just as he had done to you. “Where do you think you’re going...” you surged forward, as your lips brushed over his, “Thranduil..”

His eyes widened before you crashed your lips into his, full of fiery passion and spirit, the kind he had seen from you so often. His lips were warm, and he tasted of mint, this moment reminding you of days spent in the forest, nights spent under the stars. He sucked at your bottom lip as your hand wove its way into his hair. You couldn’t help yourself as you grazed your teeth over his lower lip, your hands roaming up to run through his hair and caress his face and neck, everything soft as silk. He let out a low groan before he grabbed you once again and switched positions, your back once again on the wall. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and breathing heavily.

“Fuck...” he muttered under his breath, before burying his head in your shoulder.

“Thranduil... Gi melin (I love you)” you whispered from swollen lips “Meleth nîn…(my love)” one of your hands rubbed circles into his low back, the other tucked strands of hair behind his ear.

“Do not forget Y/N,” he started, the shakiness in his voice surprising you “I would pluck every star from the sky and lay them at your feet. I offer you my sword, I offer you my life.” He raised his head from your shoulder before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You are my ithildim (star-light)” he whispered as his thumb ran across your cheek. He offered you a small smile, the first genuine one you had ever seen from him, before he pulled his hand away and walked off down the corridor.

Your fingers ran over your lips, which still tingled, and when you licked at them you could still taste the mint on them. Your skin felt seared where his hands had run across it. As you watched him leave, you could not help but to let out a small laugh. His pride had forbidden him from directly saying he loved you the way you did him, but his actions, his words, they all proved to you the truth. Although he could not say his feelings, he had shown you them plainly enough.

You smacked your hands against your cheeks and shook your head before you made after him, you refused to let your little rendezvous be over so soon, especially after you and Legolas had went through all that effort to make it happen.

 ----------------

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#the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #Thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #LOTR #legolas greenleaf #King Thranduil #imagine #lotr imagine #songfic #i wont say im in love

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Unfaithful | Part Two

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3243

Warnings: abusive behaviour, mentions of ‘bedroom activity’ 🙈

A/N: Please be warned there will be some themes of toxic/abusive relationship in this series. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part One | Masterlist

- - - - -

I knew weddings took a lot of planning, but I never realised they took this much. Every single tiny detail requires a decision and more often than not that decision falls on the bride’s shoulders. 

Purple or yellow flowers?

Napkins folded as swans or roses?

Which table can we sit Uncle David at where he won’t start a fight?

I try to get Dan involved in the decision making but his response is always the same.

“It’s up to you babe”

Speaking of Daniel, I still haven’t told him we have to meet with the Priest again today. I tried a few times to bring it up but his mood changes instantly. I’ve still got a slight bruise on my wrist from the aftermath of the first meeting, but I keep it covered. I know he didn’t mean to hurt me. 

I pull the sleeve of my jumper down over my wrist as I approach Daniel in the kitchen. 

“You look nice, where you going today?” He asks as he makes himself a cup of tea. 

“Actually…” I take a breath “we’ve got our second meeting with the Priest today”

“What do you mean? We’ve already met him once why do we need to go again?” He doesn’t look as me as he swirls the teabag around in his mug with a spoon.

“It’s just church policy, he has to meet with us a few times before the wedding”

“Well I’m not going” 

“Dan-“

“I SAID NO!” He erupts, swiping his mug off the counter so it smashes and tea spills everywhere. He storms out of the kitchen, leaving me stood in the mess he’s made. I stare at it bewildered for a moment as it sinks in what he’s done and I feel my blood start to boil.

“Daniel!” I shout as I follow after him. I find him in the hallway taking his coat off the hook as he heads for the front door “where are you going?”

“Pub”

“Dan, the priest is expecting us in half an hour! Both of us!”

“Then I guess he’s doing to be disappointed. Or not. You two got along just fine the other day, it was almost as if I wasn’t even there”

“We both tried to include you in the conversation multiple times but you just… weren’t present”

“Well then today won’t be any different will it” 

He walks out and slams the door behind him. 

I stand alone in the hallway for a few minutes taking deep breaths to calm myself before taking out my phone and sending an email. 

‘I’m really sorry father but I’m not feeling well so I need to reschedule today’s meeting. Sorry.’

— — — — 

45 minutes later. 

I clean when I’m stressed. And right now I’m the most stressed I’ve been in my life so I’ve decided to stress clean the whole house. Everything. Apart from the broken mug and spilled tea. Daniel can clean that shit up when he eventually gets back from his sulk. 

I’m in the middle of vacuuming the living room when something catches my attention in the corner of my eye. My heart stops for a moment when I turn and see the Priest waving at me through the window.

I turn off the vacuum and open the front door, placing my hand over my chest. 

“You startled me!” 

“I guess now were even” he laughs awkwardly “I bought you these”

He pulls out a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

“Why?” I ask, not meaning to sound as ungrateful as I do, as he hands them to me.

“You said you were ill, I hoped these would cheer you up” 

I don't quite know how to react so I end up just staring at him blankly. The truth is I’m speechless. He watches my face and the smile fades from his own. 

“You don’t like them. Shit! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even come, I’ve overstepped my boundaries.” He rambles

“No! No! I love them I’m just-” I pause as I look down at the flowers in my hand “I think this is the nicest thing anyones ever done for me. No one ever buys me flowers” 

“Well they should.”

For some reason I suddenly feel like a shy little school girl. I smile at him and he smiles back. 

“Anyway I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Get well soon” he turns and begins walking down the driveway. I think for a moment.

“Father!” I call after him and he spins around to face me “would you like to come in?” 

He nods and walks back to me, going past me into the house. I shut the door and gesture for him to go through into the kitchen, forgetting about Daniel’s mess. 

“Oops” he says when he sees it “what happened there?” 

“Daniel had an accident. He can be really clumsy sometimes” I laugh it off as I busy myself making us some tea.

“Can’t we all” he says, taking a seat at the dining table “will he be joining us?”

“No” I respond, a bit too quickly “he uh, he had to go out. I don't know when he’ll be back” 

I carefully carry our cups of tea over to the dining table and take a seat opposite him.

“Never mind. Thank you” he smiles and takes a sip of tea “I actually wanted to talk to you about something without Daniel, if that’s okay?” 

“Sure” I shrug, stirring some sugar into my tea. 

“I hope you don't take this wrong way but-” he pauses, I can tell he’s nervous to say what he’s going to say next “Are you safe?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just… I saw what happened in the car park the other day”

“I don't know what you're talking about” I say casually as I remove the spoon from my tea and place it down on the table. The priest reaches over and goes to touch my wrist but I pull it away quickly, instinctively pulling my sleeve down over my hand as his eyes search my own. 

“He hurt you, didn’t he?” He asks quietly and I shake my head “I saw the way you held your wrist as you walked away from him Y/N and I could see the bruises just now.”

I can’t bare the way he’s looking at me anymore so I cast my eyes down to the table, but he continues to stare at me. 

“Y/N? Talk to me, that’s what I’m here for. If he’s abusive to you-”

“He’s not” I finally speak as I look up at him again “he’s not like that, he’s kind and caring and… he would never intentionally hurt me. I just caught him on a bad day”

“And what about today? With the tea?” He gestures to the shattered mug on the floor “That wasn’t an accident was it? Is that why you cancelled today?”

“No! It’s just the stress of planning a wedding is getting to us both. But we’re fine! Honestly” 

I take a breath as I smile at him, but I can see he’s not totally convinced. He looks at me for a moment before speaking. 

“Give me your phone” he holds his hand out across the table 

“What? Why?” 

“I’m giving you my number, no one emails anymore” he jokes “So you can contact me whenever you need a chat, okay? Any time. Well apart from Sunday mornings, cause you know, church.”

“Of course” I smile

“And preferably not late. I’ve been really enjoying going to bed at 9.30 recently” he winks and we both laugh “I’m kidding. Well not about going to bed at 9.30, I do actually do that. But you can call or text me anytime and I will always get back to you. I promise” 

He gives me a really sincere smile and I feel a weird flutter in my stomach as I smile back. 

— — — — 

Almost two hours later the priest is only just getting ready to leave after we got carried away talking. We talked about all sorts. Our childhoods, our hobbies, our fears. He told me about his fear of foxes, and how they’ve apparently stalked him throughout his life. He even told me about his first ever wedding and the drama that surrounded the family. We’ve been talking for so long we didn’t realise its starting to get dark. He opens the front door and steps out just as Daniel comes walking toward the house, I see the anger in his face as he spots the priest. 

“What the fuck is he doing here!” He yells as he stomps towards us

“Daniel!” I warn but he ignores me, squaring up to the priest. I try to get between them and smell the stench of booze on him “are you drunk?!”

“So what if I am? Huh? You got a problem with that?” his breath on my face makes me want to gag “cause you know, I got a problem with this asshole being in my house”

“We just had some wedding stuff to discuss but it’s all sorted now so I’m going” the priest tries to diffuse the situation “I’ll see you both soon” 

“Like fuck you will” Daniel spits before going into the house. 

I mouth “I’m sorry” to the priest and he just shakes his head and smiles at me before leaving. 

Back in the house I ignore Daniel’s drunken ranting, going straight to the kitchen to clear away the left over cups of tea. Aggravated that I’m not paying him attention, Daniel follows me into the kitchen. He picks the flowers up from the counter.

“Did he give you these?” He asks but I ignore him, angering him more. He rips the flowers to shreds, dumping them on the floor. 

I step over them and I place our mugs next to sink, grab a cloth and some cleaner before going back to wipe down the table. Suddenly a mug flies past me, just missing my face as it smashes against the wall. I slowly turn to look at Daniel and stare him out before I dropping the cloth on the table and walking out. I grab my handbag and throw my jacket around my shoulders as I walk out of the house, slamming the door behind me. Daniel doesn’t dare to follow me, he knows he pushed me too far. 

I’ve been walking for about half an hour before I realise, I have no idea where I’m going. I’m just wondering aimlessly, letting my feet carry me wherever they want to go. Eventually I find myself standing outside the church. I place my hand on the wooden doors and pause, contemplating whether to go inside or carry on walking till I find a bar to drink at. To my surprise the doors gently swing open, but theres no one stood behind them. I take this as a sign that I should go in. 

As I enter the silent church and walk down the aisle I can’t help but imagine myself here in a few weeks wearing my white dress. I reach the front and turn back to stare out at the empty pews, picturing my friends and family smiling back at me as I stand with the man I’ll spend the rest of my life with. 

A thought that used to fill me with excitement, currently filling me with dread. 

I grunt with frustration as I flop down to the floor, sitting on the step with my head in my hands. Frustration turns to anger, which turns to sadness and soon I can’t stop the tears rolling down my face. I sit there silently crying until…

“You can’t be in here!” 

I look up and wipe my eyes as a very grumpy looking middle aged lady stomps towards me.

“Sorry”

“No ones allowed in at night”

“The door was open, I just presumed-”

“Well it shouldn’t have been and you need to leave” she ushers me back to the doors.

“Okay, I’m going. Sorry!”

“Y/N?” A familiar voice calls and I look back to see the priest emerging from his office “what are you doing here?”

“She’s just leaving Father, I’m sorry for the disturbance” the woman answers

“It’s alright Pam, she can stay” 

The woman I now know is Pam looks from the priest to me, then back to the priest again before backing off slightly. 

“Okay…” she says slowly, like she suspects something “I’ll just be upstairs if you need me. Goodnight Father” 

“Good night Pam” he replies.

She gives me one last look before disappearing out a door. I look at the priest, who just rolls his eyes and laughs as he gestures for me to follow him. 

I walk into his office and take a seat.

“So, that was Pam” he says, closing the office door and taking a seat opposite me.

“I gathered” I nod my head “She’s a bit…”

“Insane” 

“I was gonna say intense, but yeah” I laugh, feeling self conscious as I notice he’s studying my face. My cheeks are probably still blotchy and eyes blood shot from crying. There’s a small silence before he finally speaks.

“Are you okay?”

I look at him, not sure how to answer. 

“Did he hurt you?” He changes the question

“No” I shake my head “but he did break another mug. I’m gonna have to get insurance out on the ones we’ve got left at this rate” I joke but he continues to study my face, before finally jumping up out his chair.

“Do you want a drink? A proper drink. I’ve got some cans of G&T hidden away in here”

He opens a cupboard and grabs a Marks and Spencers plastic bag, pulling out two cans. 

“Are you sure you're a priest?” I laugh as he hands me a can “I mean you drink, you swear.. what other rules do you break?”

“I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you”

“Murder too?” I say a bit too loud, flinching as I hear a banging above me

“Oh shit, Pam! She doesn’t like me being loud. Or having fun in general. Let’s go outside”

“What about the foxes?” I tease and he shakes his head at me as he opens the door and gestures me to walk out. 

— — — — 

We sit on a bench just outside the church overlooking the graveyard and talk for about half an hour before I realise something. 

“You know what’s strange?” I say, suddenly changing the subject “This is only really our third time meeting. I haven’t known you for very long at all but when we talk I feel like I’ve known you for years!”

“That is strange” he humours me, taking a sip of his drink

“Our conversations remind me of how Daniel and I used to be. Back when we could talk to each other properly. These days I’m lucky if we don't end up in an argument”

“And you wanna marry this guy?” 

“Of course I do” I reply, slightly taken aback by the forwardness of his question “We’ve known each other pretty much our whole lives. We’ve been together so long- I wouldn’t know what to do without him”

“That’s not a reason to stay with someone, especially if they don't make you happy anymore. Being in love with someone and being dependant on them are different things.” He pauses, studying me “Do you love Daniel?”

I stare at him, replaying the question in my mind over and over again. 

“Y/N?” 

I realise I don’t know the answer and a feeling of panic begins to bubble inside me. I jump up from the seat.

“I have to go” 

I quickly begin walking down the path to the front of the church, followed by the Priest who calls after me. I don't stop walking.

“It’s really late, Dan’s probably wondering I am so…” 

“Y/N, wait please!” 

I stop and turn back to look at him.

“I’m sorry if that was too much, but these are things you need to think seriously about.”

“I know! I will.” I nod and flash him a quick smile “thanks for the drink” 

I hold my can up in a ‘cheers’ before turning and continuing my walk back home. 

— — — — 

As I walk up the driveway of my house I can see Daniel through the window fast asleep on the sofa in front of the tv. I finish the last bit of my drink and hide the can in my handbag as I unlock the front door and sneak into the house. I hang my coat and bag up and slip my shoes off before quietly climbing the stairs and getting into bed. 

Laying in bed my mind can’t help but wonder to the Priest. I feel bad for the way the conversation ended. I shouldn’t have freaked out and walked off like that. He just looking out for me.

I grab my phone and send a text. 

‘Thanks for not letting Pam kick me out tonight, I really appreciate it. Good night’

I put my phone back on the beside table, not expecting a reply anytime soon because its so late. To my surprise it vibrates almost immediately. I pick it up and read:

‘No problem, here for you anytime! Sleep well x’

A small smile spreads on my face as my eyes fixate on the small ‘x’ at the end of his text. It probably means nothing but I cant help but feel a flutter in my stomach. 

The feeling a quickly taken over by dread as I hear footsteps up the stairs. I put my phone back on the table and roll over in bed, making out like I’m asleep. The mattress sinks as Daniel climbs into bed next to me and I feel his breath on the side of my face. At least he doesn’t smell of beer anymore. 

“I’m sorry” he whispers as his arm snakes over my waist and he plants a kiss on my cheek “I’m really really sorry”

I turn my head slightly to look up at him, but I don't say anything. 

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that. You know what I’m like when I drink”

“That’s no excuse Daniel” 

“I know, I know! I’m sorry. I’m going to change, try harder for you. Okay?”

I nod my head, knowing full well its bullshit. He’s said this before, said he’ll be different but the next day he’s always back to his same old self. 

“No more shouting. No more lashing out. No more hurting you. I promise.” He plants kisses on my skin with each sentence. “I’m going to be the perfect husband for you and im going to make it up to you. Starting now.”

He kisses down my jaw, to my neck and down my shoulder as he gently pulls me so I’m lying on my back. Then he kisses down my chest and slips under the duvet, kissing all the way down my body till he reaches that place only he has ever been. 

I close my eyes, enjoying the pleasure that’s rippling through me as my breathing gets more ragged before I realise…

In my imagination its not my soon to be husband with his head between my legs…

It’s the dark haired, brown eyed man who’s supposed to be marrying us.

Oh my God, I fancy a priest. 

part three

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_domestic_violence_hotlines)

#fleabag #fleabag fic #fleabag imagine #hot priest #hot priest imagine #hot priest x reader #andrew scott #Andrew Scott priest #andrew scott x reader #phoebe waller bridge #nicolasfam

[hepaidattention]

pipe cleaner

where Lydia and Stiles live six hours away from each other their first year in college and hate it and also Scott needs help with the pack, but they make it work - they always do. oh also its their meetaversary. 

warning: occasional cursing because I can’t believe impulsive Stiles Stilinski didn’t use fuck on a regular basis

Lydia lied across her bed, head rested on her pillow, ankles crossed, and hands folded and placed perfectly on her stomach. She was waiting, patiently she might add. She let out a long sigh as she observed her ceiling. She wished it was those god ugly popcorn ceilings just for the entertainment of deciding shapes out of the little bumps - she used to do that in Stiles' room, all those times they’d say they were studying but it always turned into his long rants about his next hunch or scheme. Sometimes, when he got too stressed, she would pull him on the bed with her and tell him to tell her the first shape he saw. It was almost always something silly, or sarcastic, but it grounded him - it helped him when he was on the verge of a panic attack as well. One time she asked him what they looked like to her and he laughed a little. She asked him what it was and he said, "They kinda remind me of all the moles taking over my face."

She looked at him, getting a perfect view of the most prominent ones. She loved his freckles and moles, they made his face so unique. Then he said, "One of these suckers will be the death of me, just you wait. I'll spend years surviving werewolves and werecoyotes and murder spree sacrifices and nogistune possessions, all to die from mole cancer at the sour age of 60."

"Don't say that," Lydia felt a twinge in her chest from the thought. 

"What, why?" He turned his head to face hers, laughing still about it. 

"Because I don't want to think of a world like that," she bit her bottom lip, then twisted her neck back to face the ceiling. "A world where you're dead." is what she wanted to say, but instead she finished with, “I can’t handle anymore death.”

Stiles’ mouth was gaped open - he was looking at her like he’d just seen the sun for the first time. She recognized it as ‘Lydia actually cares about me’ face, because he made it a lot when she ever said anything nice to him. He closed his mouth, finally, then he grabbed her hand, giving it a light squeeze before letting go. With that he whispered, "Well thankfully you don't have to. Can't get rid of me that easily, now can you?"

Lydia found tears running down the side of her face and into her perfectly curled hair. They were bittersweet tears - loving the memories of the happy past, but missing them so severely it brought a deep pain in her chest. She wiped the tears from the memory and looked at her phone. 8:35. She sighed again, her fingers now tapping less patiently and more impatiently on her abdomen. 5 minutes late was on time for Stiles, but it didn't keep her from worrying. 

God she missed him. She thought back to the first day she actually acknowledged Stiles Stilinski. She was on her bed at home, not here in this dorm, and yes she always knew who he was - it was almost impossible not to know the sheriff's son. The Stilinski the teachers always yelled at, the trouble maker goofball all the lacrosse players made fun of behind his back. She met Stiles in 3rd grade, with his over worn Power Rangers shirt as he stared at her across class all day. However, in her room was the first day she learned his name. Like really learned it; at least cared to remember it. She was high on whatever drugs she took for her anxiety and all she remembered was a sweet Stiles coming to check on her. He was the only one who ever checked on her. The only one (other than Allison obviously) out of the entire school to come and make sure she was okay. 

Now she was lying on her bed, waiting for him to call her on the phone, wishing she could just see his mole-covered face in person for the first time in these excruciating months. She wanted to hug him; kiss him; hold his hand. 

She let out a loud sigh and picked up her phone, checking the time again. 8 minutes late. It was 8 minutes Lydia, calm down. Stiles hardly ever even remembered what day it was, his concept of time was always off. She laid it back down on the bed and stared back at the ceiling. 2 more minutes passed and she sat up, bringing her phone with her. Maybe she should just call him. It was his turn tonight, but he could've fallen asleep. His sleep schedule had been ridiculous lately, his internship keeping him up at strange hours of the day and night. 

She pulled up his contact and started to press the green little phone button when Incoming Call appeared on her screen. It was an unknown number. She answered anyway, falling back into the bed as she said, "Hello?" She said it with mystery, wondering if assuming it was Stiles was too hopeful.

"Uh yes hi," Stiles said on the other side of the phone. He sounded weird, like he was trying to make his voice deeper. "I'd like to order a pizza,"

She smiled to herself, deciding to play along, "Sorry sir, you have the wrong number. This is a supernatural crisis hotline, are you experiencing anything supernaturally distressing at the present?"

She could hear him chuckle to himself, practically hear the smile curving up mouth: "That depends on what you define as supernaturally distressing."

"Hm, well," she flipped on her side, her arm propping up her head, "Are you being haunted?"

"Mmm, by hunger, yes,"

She shook her head, even though he couldn't see her. "Sorry, hunger doesn't qualify as a supernatural occurrence. Have you been bitten by a supernatural being or perhaps burst into flames without explanation?"

"God no," he paused, then, "but I might do that exploding thing if I can't order a pizza."

She might explode if she can't see him. "Well, if that happens then feel free to give us a call back." She missed his face. She wished he had facetimed her. "Why did you call me anyway? You usually FaceTime,"

"God, pizza places say the weirdest things sometimes. If you wanted to ask me out then all you had to do was ask." 

"Stiles, I'm serious," she whined, "what happened to your phone?"

He sighed, but it wasn't an aggravated kind, it was just his normal restless sigh that said "no one ever enjoys fun like I do." "I…." He hung on the "I" like he was thinking of a lie, "left it at home after leaving in a rush,"

She glanced at the clock and frowned. "Where were you going in such a rush? It's almost 9 at night?"

"Well I had to catch an early train so I could pick up my pizza," before Lydia could figure out what that meant he said, "then I changed my mind on the train - you know there's just something about train stations that give me the heebie jeebies. Can't quite put my finger on it."

"Hm, maybe it's the 3 months of purgatory imprisonment thing," she was smirking to herself now, wondering why she ever went along with his ridiculous jokes. "Erased from existence can really put a number on a person." 

"Nah, that's not it," she knew he was smiling. There was something about how his voice got higher when he was smiling, when he was truly, wholly happy. "I mean 3 months? 3 months is nothing."

She could tell he was walking now. It sounded like he was entering a building of some sort, she could hear every breath he walked like it was an incline. "Is that so?"

"Yeah I mean, now a year? A year is a long time. Even longer would be something like, you know, 10 years or so.. That's something to really put a number on a person...or say, a banshee."

She bit her bottom lip, hoping he'd remembered. "A banshee huh? Sounds kinda supernatural to me, maybe you should try this hotline I know about."

"Depends on your definition of what a hotline is." He took a big step, almost like a leap. 

"Well, there's a phone line,"

"Right, yeah, implied by the line part, right."

"And the person on the other end of that line is really hot."

"Hm," another leap. What was he doing? "Sounds dirty." Then she could have sworn she heard an elevator door ding open. 

Her brows furrowed, "Stiles, you never told me who's phone this is,"

"Oh, this? It's the pizza guys."

Lydia sat up then, her expression purely puzzled now. "The pizza guys?"

"Well yeah, how else was I supposed to call you?"

Stiles Stilinski had officially lost his mind, she decided. "Stiles, you could have just waited to call me until you got back home. You didn't need to steal some guy's phone,"

He cracked up laughing, "Who said anything about stealing? You hear that? She thought I stole your phone haha …. Dude I'm gonna give it back relax, okay? Geesh, just take a deep breath or something buddy," She heard some voice on the other end, it was muffled but she assumed it was the pizza guy. 

"Stiles…" She dragged out his name just like she always did when he had a huge scheme cooked up but was still in the works of sharing it. "What are you up to?" 

"Why would you think I'm up to something?”

She huffed, irritated, "Because you're always up to something."

"Valid point - oh oh right here right here, yeah yeah yeah," she listened carefully, hoping to be given any clue of where the hell her boyfriend was. Then Stiles abruptly said. "Gotta go Lyds, I have a pizza to deliver,"

She was so so so so confused. "To who? Stiles Stilinski, what are you up to?"

"Okay love you bye!"

He hung up on her. She didn't even get to say it back. He knew how much she hated it when he hung up before she could say it back. She was angry now. She silently screamed and was seconds from throwing her phone on the pillow when a knock resonated through her dorm door. Lydia checked the clock again. It was minutes from 9, why was anyone at her door?

Lydia angrily got up from her seat, the fact that Stiles didn't even really mention their anniversary was making her fume. She marched to the door and slung it open, fully ready to see one of the annoying freshmen from down the hall ask for toilet paper again (as if their RA couldn’t help with that).. 

However, it wasn't some freshman. Instead, it was a pizza delivery man. He looked so annoyed, and his expression had nothing on it but disdain. Lydia poked her head out the door, looking both ways to see if Stiles was anywhere - but he was nowhere to be seen. The pizza guy opened the box and it was her favorite kind of dessert pizza - a chocolate drizzle spelling out "happy meetaversary - love Stiles"

She was still annoyed, but touched. The guy handed her the pizza, mumbled something about already being paid, and walked away. She noticed his cell phone in his back pocket - she was truly so confused. She closed the door, staring at the pizza in her hand - what was he up to? His couldn't just be it - it was Stiles. He loved to go out of his way to-

"You're gonna share that right?" 

Lydia about leaped out of her body and ascended into the heavens. It was a miracle the pizza was still in her hands as she fell back into the door, her heart pounding hard, and her eyes staring straight at Stiles lying across her bed. His ankles were crossed, (shoes off because he was smart), his arms were folded behind his head as if he'd been there all day. 

"Stiles," she was holding her chest, her heart racing. "What. The. Hell." She looked at his goofy grin and his stupid plaid shirt and dear god, she realized just how much she missed him. He got up from the bed, looking apologetic. However, instead of apologizing, he said sheepishly, "I couldn't wait for Christmas break?" He was scratching the back of his neck and his smile was crooked and without another thought she sat the pizza down on her desk and dove straight in to kiss him. 

He pulled back after a minute to talk, because that was something he could never stop doing: “I’m guessing pizza was better than flowers? I almost got flowers but I just didn’t feel like flowers was the way to go, you know? Flowers are safe, predictable, but pizza-”

“Stiles,”

He clamped his lips closed, a smile sneaking behind his adorable lips, “Shut up?”

“No, actually,” she laughed, brushing the side of his cheek with her thumb. She had missed every single part of this man. “I was just going to say thank you.”

“Yeah?” his voice almost squeaked. It was one of her favorite things, when his voice went up just slightly as if she still made him nervous. “‘Cause I just spent six hours in a car hoping to god you would actually like this kind of surprise.”

She just hugged him then, so tight she wouldn’t be surprised if air was hard for him. Through his shirt she mumbled, “The only kind of surprise I would ever be okay with is you.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys,” he teased her, hugging her back almost just as tight. “Happy meetaversary, Lyds.”

She didn’t let go. Letting go might mean he’d have to go back home, one day, somewhere down the road. “Happy meetaversary, Stiles. I can’t believe I’ve known you for eleven years.”

He kissed the top of her head, not wanting to let go either: “I guess we can say that my ten year plan was fool proof.”

She looked up then, her lips pursed as she looked up at her goofy smiling boyfriend, “Are you saying you started your 10 year plan in the 3rd grade?”

“Well, I mean then it was like a week's worth of a plan,” he stretched out his mouth, making that expression that showed all his teeth like he was in distress. It always made her smile. He always made her smile. “It was revised to a more realistic game plan.”

“Well,” she pulled back just slightly, her hands resting on his hips, “What’s the game plan now?”

“Uhhh,” Stiles ran a hand over his face and stretched an eyebrow, “well I mean, I … I’m already dating you, so ... nothing?”

Lydia rolled her eyes at him, wagging her head as she said, “No you dummy, the game plan for the weekend?”

“Oh! Right, of course, game plan for the weekend,” he pulled away from her, making her arms feel suddenly cold without his embrace. He grabbed the pizza and came back in front of her, his eyebrows wiggling up and down his forehead. “That is a surprise. For right now, desert.”

She hated surprises, she really did, but she really meant it when she said that if Stiles was involved - she could love absolutely anything. She tiptoed up and pecked a kiss on his cheek, her face beaming as she said, “You’re the best,”

He shook his head, standing his ground, “Nope, I’m not gonna tell you - not this time.”

She grabbed the pizza from him and shrugged, “Okay,” she opened the pizza box as Stiles looked at her like she was a different person entirely. “As long as the day’s with you, I don’t care what we do.”

He raised one brow up his forehead, “Not one care?”

“Nope,”

“Not even the slightest flicker of concern? Not even a tingle of wanting control?”

“Stiles,” she pulled out the piece that said “love Stiles” on it, readying herself to eat, “you planned out a ten year scheme to date me as a 3rd grader and succeeded. Clearly, I have no room to doubt your superior game planning abilities.”

“Right,” he stood there, watching her closely. She smiled at him and sat down at her bed so she could eat. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “Right.”

“You wanna tell me don’t you?”

He landed beside her on the bed, making her bounce up a little as he said, “Please can I tell you? You’re gonna love it and I can’t wait to see your face when I tell you how mind-blowingly perfect this game plan really is-”

“Stiles,”

“Hm?” he licked his top lip, his leg propping up his arm as he looked at her with the utmost attention. “Oh right, shut up -” he gave her a thumbs up, “you got it.”

“If I wanted you to shut up I would do this,” she kissed him firmly on the lips, then pulled back quicker than either would have liked. She was making a point right now though, they could do more kissing after she ate her food. 

“Then what -” he blinked like he was trying to drag himself back to earth, “what were you gonna say?”

“I just missed you,” she combed a gentle hand through his once gelled hair, her fingers tracing his freckles shaped like constellations - her own, made up, better than the original ones. 

Stiles gave her that look that just made her knees weak every time. It was the same look he gave her when she first kissed him that day in the locker room. The same look he gave her when he saved her from Eichen House. The same look he gave her on homecoming, or in the hospital later that week, or every single time she was in the hospital and he came to see her before anyone else. The same look he gave her every single day - it was this look of pure bewilderment - as if he didn’t know how he deserved this - that rooted from sincere, unwavering love. He whispered, “I just missed you too,” so sweetly, so softly, and then kissed her again. And again. And again. 

Sooner or later they ate their pizza, and they watched a movie, and Lydia just had to remind herself over and over and over again that the distance wasn’t forever. He was here with her now, and that’s what mattered. Besides, she’d graduate in a year (perks of coming in as a junior) - there’s no telling where life would take her then. Preferably, it would be much closer to Stiles, who still had a few more years in school and training before he could officially join the FBI force. She wouldn’t mind living in Washington, DC - there were some good mathematician positions available through government jobs she could easily get while working on her Masters. 

A loud bang hit the wall and both Stiles and Lydia jumped, the sound of guys cheering following quickly after it. He shook his head as he pulled her closer in, “I don’t think I’ll ever understand why you choose to stay in the dorms,” 

Lydia smiled and shrugged into him, “There’s something about the loud chaos of it all… I don’t know, it reminds me of home.”

He scoffed, then said, “Speaking of home…” he sighed, Lydia afraid to know where that was going. “Scott called me.”

“What’d he say?” The love interests were fighting on screen now, Lydia half paying attention as she waited for Stiles to answer. 

“He was inviting us all over for Christmas dinner.” 

Lydia sat up a little to look at him, “Why do you make that sound like it’s the next apocalypse?”

“Uh, hello, Lydia ... have you had Scott’s mom’s food? It tastes like a werewolf’s regurgitated food, okay? Like the food the mom bird gives to it’s little chicks, but the very last bit that has a little stomach bile attached to it.”

Lydia scrunched up her face and stuck out a tongue, “Okay, okay, I get the picture,” the relief in her overcame her muscles, her joints again. She didn’t even realize how tense just the name Scott makes her sometimes. Not in a bad way, but just out of worry for her friends. Scott chose to stay close to Beacon Hills, which resulted in him being there more often than not with his newbee werewolves. He traveled a lot, however, his current werewolf adventures brought him all the way to Florida a couple months back. She was always worried for him - she may be across the country right now, but he was still her alpha, her pack leader, her friend. “We’ll just make sure to bring our own food, too, then.” Stiles was quiet, staring at the sheets, so she said, “And what else did he say?”

“Hm?” he snapped out of his daze, “What’d you mean?”

Lydia turned herself around in his arms so she could look up at him, his sleepy face blinking. She said, “You’re acting weird, he had to have said something else.”

“I- I don’t know, not really, it was just…” he sighed, unconsciously starting to rub circles on her back. “I could just tell in his voice, you know? It's Scott, I can always tell when something’s not right … and something wasn’t right.”

Lydia frowned, “Do you think he’s in trouble?”

“Not imminent trouble no,” he huffed out a short breath, “but I think there’s a lot more going on Scott’s plate than just Christmas plans. I don’t know … I asked him about it but he just shrugged it off, said it was a new pack member drama or some kind of bullshit like that. I know he’s been having trouble with hunters again.” 

“He’ll be okay, Stiles,” she wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed, “It’s Scott. He’s always okay. If he needs us, he'll let us know."

"Your banshee senses aren't tingling or anything right? No feeling of impending doom or scary dreams about supernatural werewolf deaths?"

She rocked her head no as her chin rested on his chest, "If they were you'd be the first to know." Stiles seemed to ease up at that, his body relaxing under her, his eyes softening as he gazed down. Then she said, "You have to learn to relax, Stiles. You can't keep living in DC terrified that all your friends are dying - we're not in Beacon Hills anymore,"

His brows furrowed, "I don't do that...do I?" 

"Stiles. You called me three times last week while I was in class just to make sure I made it to class okay,"

He bit into his top lip and sucked in, "Okay, you make a good point. But can you really blame me? Lyds, we lived in constant fear for our lives for so long ... sometimes I wake up terrified no one remembers me anymore - or that I've forgotten someone very important and I'll never know who it was - or that one day I'll just forget you and -"

"Stiles," she gently placed a hand on his cheek, giving him a smile that told him everything was going to be okay, "you're not gonna forget me. No ones going to forget anyone, okay? The riders tried that on us and they failed, because no one could ever forget Stiles Stilinski."

He gave her a half smile, tears pricking his eyes, "My mom did."

It was silent. Lydia wasn't sure how to respond to that. She searched for the right words to assure him that his mom never really forgot him, when Lydia's phone started ringing. She pulled it from her nightstand and felt a short moment of panic. The name on the screen was Scott. He never called her out of the blue, especially not on a Friday night at 11pm. 

She tried to look neutral as she said, "Hey Scott," Stiles sat up at the name, his muscle tensing all over again. She listened, then said, "Yeah he's right here. He forgot his phone back at home." Lydia smiled at Stiles and said to him, "Scott’s been trying to call you. He got worried that something happened."

He laughed, the coincidence uncanny. He fell back into the bed and put out a hand for the phone. Lydia handed it to him and he said, "Hey mom, sorry I didn't text you,"

"Stiles oh my god, how are you even with Lydia? Don't guys live like six hours away from each other?"

"I have a three day weekend, mom, it wasn't that big of a deal. I promise I'll get my homework done."

He heard him sigh, "If I had thought you'd be with Lydia I would have called her hours ago. I was afraid to call or text her and get her all worried if you were just the dumb ass that didn't charge his phone."

"No, I'm just the dumbass who left my phone six hours away. What's up? You sound freaked,"

He was silent for a minute, causing both Lydia and Stiles stress, then he said, "I'm in Massachusetts,"

Stiles rose up from his lounging position to give Lydia a look. He turned the phone on speaker and said, "You're here? What the hell are you doing across the country? Is the national Werewolf Con here or something?" 

"That's a long story, but these hunters, man, they never stop, they …” his breath rattled in his chest. Stiles was pretty sure he heard Peter’s voice in the background, another unrecognizable one farther away. “I need you guys' help."

Lydia nodded, not even questioning it. Stiles responded, "Anything you need buddy, we'll be there." 

Scott took a moment to respond, then, "I'll text Lydia the location. Meet us there in an hour." Without even a goodbye, Scott hung up. 

Lydia took back her phone and looked at Stiles with wide eyes. "Told you he'd call us if he needed us," she sighed, “I wasn't expecting that to happen so soon, but what can I say - I am psychic after all,”

Stiles didn’t hear her. He was sitting there, staring at the bed in trance-like thought. Lydia was afraid what he was letting his mind wander to, but then he looked up and gave her a genuine smile. He was ready to jump off the bed when he said, “I’m sure it’ll be a long ride there - I’ll drive.”

She grabbed his hand, just to get him to look back at her. He did, and she asked, “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am,” he gave a little shrug to readjust his flannel on his shoulders, “I get to see my best friend. I mean c’mon, I haven’t seen Scott in months.” She gave him a look that screamed ‘I’m not an idiot’ and so he said, “Dire circumstances aside, I’d call it a win.”

She could sense the fear he was carrying and she felt a rush of deja vu - all the times in Beacon Hills, Stiles at her side, panicking on the inside but always jokes on the outside. Maybe it was being a banshee, maybe it was the emotional tether that was only strengthened when Stiles had to go under for his dad - but she always knew how he was feeling. She could sense it, practically feel it herself. When Stiles was possessed by the nogitsune - that was the most emotionally painful experience she had dealt with in a very long time. She could feel every bit of his pain, every bit of his fear, his panic, his sadness. However, it was Stiles, and he liked to pretend his problems didn’t exist. She nodded, accepting he wasn’t going to break, and said, “Okay, let’s go then.”

He had his keys in his hands already, spinning them around his index finger and catching it in his palm. He started to say something when he gasped, looking at the pizza box. “Wait,” he put out a hand to stop her, as if she was moving (which she wasn’t). “Oh my god, I completely forgot,”

Lydia looked at the empty pizza box and said, “Forgot what?”

He was digging his pants pocket, his tongue sticking out in the corner of his mouth when he said, “This,” He pulled out a faded pink pipe cleaner in the shape of a ring and a plastic rhinestone sloppily glued to the stem; it looked over 10 years old. Stiles had a goofy grin on his face as he said, “Happy meetaversary.”

Lydia took the small little arts and craft in her hands. It looked so familiar, but she had no idea how. “What… where did you get this?”

“When I moved out from my room I went through an old keepsake box. My dad made me keep one every school year, but I never went through them until moving out. In my 3rd grade keepsake box I found this - I made it for you in arts and crafts one day, probably one of the first days we really met. I remember I brought it to you and asked you to be my girlfriend,” he scratched the back of his neck and chuckled, “you laughed in my face and I guess I kept it in hopes that one day you’d accept it.”

Lydia was looking at the ring with teary eyes, “Stiles,” she looked up at him, “thank you.”

He gave her a silly wink, then shrugged it off by saying, “It’s not like I spent any money on it, Lyds, I just found it in an old box-”

Lydia pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him. He was shocked at first, but quickly melted into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist, Lydia raveling her arms around his neck. After a long moment she pulled back for breath, her forehead pressed against his. “I meant thank you for never giving up. You never gave up on us, even after years of me rejecting you and treating you so horribly - you never gave up.”

“How could I ever give up on Lydia Martin?” he shrugged bashfully, “I knew you were my soulmate the day I met you. Nothing else compares to that.”

She pecked another kiss on his mouth and said, “I love you, Stiles Stilinski.”

He grinned, those very words from Lydia always putting a smile to his face. “I love you back, Lydia Martin - always will.”

She dove in for a hug then, squeezing him like he might disappear again if she let go. Stiles was holding her tight, too, face in her hair, when he glanced at the clock on her nightstand;  “Ah fuck,” he reluctantly pulled back, “we gotta go,”

She nodded, looking at the time herself. She went to grab her jacket as she asked, “You think this will become a regular thing now that all of this hunter stuff is resurfacing? Scott calling us in when he needs us at late hours of the night?” 

Stiles, hands on his hips, flannel flipped back behind his hands, said, “I wouldn’t expect it any other way.”

She kissed him on the cheek and grabbed his hand, “Well, c’mon then, we have an alpha to save.” He grabbed his jacket from the bed as Lydia dragged him out of the dorm room, door closing behind them. 

And Stiles drove them to the location Scott shared, and they parked his jeep out at the park, and they got out simultaneously to see Scott and Peter bloody and battered with two other presumably werewolves with fear in their eyes - and Stiles and Lydia knew, this was a first of many late nights with the pack. 

#stydia fic #stydia fanfic #teen wolf fic #Stydia #stiles x lydia #teen wolf #i just feel like there's not enough about them after the show #the thought of stiles traveling 6 hours every weekend to see her #his poor jeep going through the worst of times just so he can see Lydia #and okay their meetaversary is important to me #like they have known each other since the 3rd freakin grade #which means if they're 19 to 20 they've known each other for 10 to 11 years #sure lydia ignored him for a lot of that #but thats so freakin precious to me #anyway so this is my way too long than needed fic of them being cute together and missing each other and Scott needing them #its also a bit of the beginning of what later seems to become a more regular thing in s6 finale #when everyone meets up with them and Stiles and Lydia come out of the jeep like this wasn't their first rodeo #my fic #my stories #my stydia fics

[ibijau]

Future Past pt17 / on AO3

After being dragged on a Night Hunt by Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen ponders the choices in front of him

“And that’s when Sect Leader Yao fell face first into the bog,” Nie Mingjue finished with a grin.

Lan Xichen, who had been fighting not to react for most of the story, burst out laughing so hard he had to stop walking, before quickly pressing one hand to his mouth in a vain effort to silence himself.

“There, I knew I hadn’t lost my touch,” Nie Mingjue said with an even wider grin, and Lan Xichen was nearly overcome with how much he’d missed him.

Of course he only had himself to blame for that. During the past year, Nie Mingjue had reached out to him several times, inviting Lan Xichen to spend a week or two in the Unclean Realm to flee his uncle’s students, or else suggesting they go on a Night Hunt together. But every time, Lan Xichen had found plenty of excuses to refuse. They were all good excuses, and he’d been busy with his regular duties, and the copying of the library, and…

And good or not, excuses were just excuses. The honest trust was that Lan Xichen had, in fact, been avoiding his best friend. The lingering shame from that horrible future had been too much to bear. How could he have faced Nie Mingjue, knowing he would have failed him someday, knowing he’d sided with his murderer, knowing he’d allowed his precious brother to turn into a monster? Horrified by the terrible friend he would have become, Lan Xichen had tried to distance himself from Nie Mingjue.

It hadn’t worked. Nie Mingjue had been patient with him, until one day he wasn’t, and just dropped by the Cloud Recesses unannounced, warned Lan Qiren that he was borrowing his nephew, and took Lan Xichen on a Night Hunt before anyone could protest. That had been the previous afternoon, and since then Nie Mingjue had been on a quest to make Lan Xichen laugh.

They’d just arrived at the location where a demon bear was causing trouble, and finally Nie Mingjue’s effort had been rewarded.

Now that he was laughing, Lan Xichen felt a little stupid for trying so hard to stay serious. Even if in his memories of the future Nie Mingjue had become an angry man too short tempered to have fun with, in the present he was the funniest person Lan Xichen knew.

The most forgiving, too, because he wasn’t even angry that Lan Xichen had pushed him away for an entire year.

“You’ve gotten too stern,” Nie Mingjue just said while Lan Xichen laughed. “I need to scold your uncle for making you work too much. I also need to steal you more often.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Lan Xichen replied, meaning it. He had been too serious since gaining those unwanted memories. Except for music lessons with Nie Huaisang, letters from Jiang Cheng, and a few chats with his brother, everything had felt dreary and stressful these last few months. “I’d wanted to act more maturely, but I suppose it’s important to have fun too.”

This prompted Nie Mingjue to make an annoyed noise.

“Huaisang told me the same thing last week,” he said in an aggravated tone. “That little brat…”

“I thought you wanted him to act more seriously?”

“I do, but not like that,” Nie Mingjue grumbled as he resumed walking. “He’s weird since he came back. First he ran off on his own, flying on his sabre…”

Lan Xichen winced. That hadn’t happened in his memory of another life. But at the same time, in that other life Nie Huaisang hadn’t gotten in nearly as much trouble, not during that first year in the Cloud Recesses at least. Lan Xichen couldn’t help feeling guilty about that, since it had to have been his fault for changing the normal course of events.

“Then when he comes back, he brings that orphan he found somewhere and demands that I let him join the sect!”

That was new as well.

“Did you agree?” Lan Xichen asked.

Nie Mingjue shrugged, and Lan Xichen had to bite his cheeks not to smile. So that was a yes. As expected, Nie Mingjue just didn’t know how to refuse his brother’s whims. It was comforting to know that this, at least, hadn’t changed.

“He’s obsessed with that kid,” Nie Mingjue explained. “Don’t know why. The boy is a damn pest, gets in fights all the time with everyone… but I guess he is clever, and he’s got potential. It’s just so weird to see Huaisang always asking about his progress. He’s never cared about any younger disciples before!”

“Maybe he brought you your future brother-in-law,” Lan Xichen teased.

“I don’t think so. The kid’s only about ten, I’d need to have a serious discussion with Huaisang if he was going after someone that young. Besides, doesn’t he already have a fling with that Lan disciple, what's his name… Su She, right?”

Hearing this, Lan Xichen’s good humour crumbled. Since Nie Huaisang had told him in Yunping City that there was nothing of the sort between himself and Su She, Lan Xichen had stopped thinking about it. But Nie Mingjue sounded quite sure of himself, so either Nie Huaisang had lied that time, or things had changed since then.

If so, Lan Xichen could only be happy for them, he supposed. After all he knew too well how loyal Su She could be toward those he cared about, and Nie Huaisang had passionately taken the defence of his friend on multiple occasions. They wouldn’t be the worst of matches, and if Lan Xichen felt any discomfort over that idea, it was only because of lingering memories of that future that would not be.

"Did I get it wrong?" Nie Mingjue asked when Lan Xichen remained silent too long. "I've just never heard that brat talk like that about anyone. Since he came back, it's all 'Su-xiong said this' about everything, except when it's 'Xichen-gege said that', so I figured you might know something”

He paused for a moment, looking concerned. Lan Xichen glanced around, in case Nie Mingjue had heard a noise, or noticed anything about that demon bear they were after, but everything seemed quiet.

“That Su She, what sort of a person is he?” Nie Mingjue suddenly asked with a grim expression. “Huaisang really is enthusiastic about that boy, but he’s mentioned that his ‘Su-xiong’ has a temper, and… he failed the exams even though both you and your uncle wrote that he’s been studying a lot. It's almost like he did it on purpose. And he’s so nervous since he came back, but he won’t say why.”

“Su She is not a bad person,” Lan Xichen replied, and it still startled him that he meant it. Something of the man he would have become lingered in Lan Xichen that was still suspicious of what Su She would have done, but in the end it was unfair to judge him on something that hadn’t happened yet. “He’s not the most popular junior in the sect, but he’s hardworking and very dedicated to his friendship with Huaisang. If they do have that sort of relationship…”

He hesitated for a second. The idea remained startlingly unpleasant, but he refused to linger on that.

“If it’s like that, then I think Huaisang could do a lot worse.”

Tension immediately drained from Nie Mingjue’s body, who smiled at his friend.

“That’s a relief. I've been really… did you hear that?"

Lan Xichen gave one short nod, his hand resting on his sword. The cracking noise they'd both heard was followed by more, then a series of low grunts. 

The demon bear had been found. 

 -

 The Night Hunt went well, not that Lan Xichen ever doubted it. He vaguely recalled that even in the other future they’d hunted that demon bear, and though he hadn’t remembered the details, he knew it had gone very well over there too. 

With their job done, Nie Mingjue and him warned the local magistrate that the threat had been handled before heading to a local inn to eat and relax for a moment. They both had a lot of work waiting for them at home, but Night Hunting together was always a chance to escape that for a time, and to pretend they were just two ordinary young men as careless as others their age. They usually went to the site of the Night Hunt quickly, aware that lives might be at stake, and then took several days to come home, travelling together as far as they could before separating. It felt like a bit of innocent mischief, and Lan Xichen loved it. 

The inn they ended up in was pleasant enough, though Lan Xichen’s standards were not very high at that moment. As long as he was safe from the bitter winter cold, with some warm tea, and decent enough food, he was satisfied. Still, it was a pleasant bonus to discover that there was a musician at the inn that day, playing on his flute whatever songs people requested as long as they dropped a few coins. The man was decently skilled, and some of the songs were nice enough that Lan Xichen wouldn’t have minded learning them.

To Lan Xichen’s surprise, Nie Mingjue too was paying attention to the performer. It struck him as quite odd, since his friend had little taste for songs unless they were weapons to use in battle.

“If that melody is one you like, I can ask for its name and try to learn it,” Lan Xichen offered after a moment, a little excited for a chance to please his friend. “It would not be a problem.”

The suggestion startled Nie Mingjue who tore his eyes from the performer, and seemed a little embarrassed to have been caught staring.

“That’s very generous of you, but I was just… thinking about Huaisang,” he admitted. “He’s really obsessed with music lately. Even raided our library in search of pieces to learn. I’m trying to understand what’s so great about that. At least with painting I can see if it’s good or not, and his birds force him to be responsible, but music… I’m really out of my depth with that, and I hate that I don’t know how to support him.”

Nie Mingjue sighed, as if it truly wounded him that his brother would have a passion so foreign to his own interests. Perhaps it did. Lan Xichen, whose tastes were so similar to his brother’s in most things, couldn’t imagine what it would be like to love so much someone so different from one’s self.

"Is he actually any good?” Nie Mingjue then asked. “he sounds great to me, but that's not saying much. Every musician sounds good to me. But some of the elders have said they're impressed by his skill, and said they’d like him to play sometimes when we have guests to entertain. They might just be polite." 

"Did he borrow a guqin from someone to continue practicing?" Lan Xichen asked, still surprised by the enthusiasm Nie Huaisang showed for music.

"Worse, he bought his own," Nie Mingjue explained, rolling his eyes. "That brat! He used up half his allowance for the year on that. I’ve warned him not to beg for money in six months when he has nothing to use for his trips to Gusu, he needs to learn not to overspend like that."

Lan Xichen froze, and for a second nearly fell into breathless panic. It was a stupid thing to worry about, compared to everything else he had changed, but… 

But in that other life too he'd gone on that Night Hunt with Nie Mingjue, who had then complained that his brother had spent a fortune on a series of exquisite fans, and even had made the same threat about not giving him more funds (which he still had done when Nie Huaisang had written to beg for money down the line). It had been the starting point of Nie Huaisang's collection, a collection that he'd continued working on for the rest of his life, no matter what else changed. 

Even that very last time Lan Xichen had met Nie Huaisang in that other life, after every lie had been revealed, even as he spilled all of his hatred for a man he'd grown to despise, Nie Huaisang had been flaunting a brand new fan, painted by a famous artist. 

Fans had appeared to be Nie Huaisang’s last joy left after he'd lost everything else, and if Lan Xichen had taken that from him… 

"You know," Nie Mingjue said, "whether he's good or not, I'm grateful you decided to teach him. He's so damn nervous all the time these days, but playing seems to calm him. So I was wondering if you might continue with the lessons?”

“Really?”

Nie Mingjue shrugged with affected indifference. 

“If that brat is finally interested in something I can pretend is related to cultivation… " he grumbled." I’m not asking you to teach him any Lan songs," he quickly added," but I wouldn’t mind if some of our elders thought that. If you have time, of course. It’s gonna be a rough year for you, with the students you have coming this time."

Lan Xichen wrinkled his nose at the thought. The year promised to be intense indeed. He hadn’t yet decided what to do about that Wei Wuxian person who would play such a role in his brother's life, sometimes for the better, often for the worse. In his memories of the future, the man he’d become had eventually accepted that Wei Wuxian was Lan Wangji’s true love, sharing with him a bond so strong that not even death had severed it. 

But Lan Xichen as he currently was couldn’t help thinking about all the pain and hardship that love had cost his brother, and he wasn’t sure if that was quite worth it. For all that he’d supported the acquaintance when it had started in that other life, Lan Xichen now wanted to prevent his brother from falling in love with that person. Surely it would be better if Lan Wangji didn't suffer like that. 

“I don’t mind continuing the lessons,” Lan Xichen said, who had already been planning for that anyway. “He’s quite good, and he actually could learn some of our songs, if he set his mind to it. Besides, he’s good company, we’ve had some good fun.”

Not to mention Nie Huaisang might be able to help with whatever Lan Xichen decided to do regarding Wei Wuxian, since they would become good friends. He might give a hand in preventing Lan Wangji from meeting that boy, or give a hint in the right direction if Lan Xichen decide to help that little romance.

“So that’s why you’ve been ignoring me then,” Nie Mingjue replied dryly. “A prettier friend who makes you laugh and calls you cute nicknames… I'm ditched so easily. Truly tragic.”

It was a joke. 

Having been friends with him for this many years, Lan Xichen knew how Nie Mingjue joked, as deadpan as his brother was dramatic, but this time the teasing hit a little too close to home. Lan Xichen hurriedly grabbed his friend’s hands and squeezed them tight. For a moment he found himself fighting to breathe, for which Nie Mingjue threw him a concerned look.

“I would never betray you,” Lan Xichen managed to wheeze out. “I swear! You… You are my friend, the person I trust the most, the person who knows me best. I would never choose someone else over you!”

Not again, anyway.

Not while knowing what the cost of it might be.

Of course even in that other future he’d thought he’d been acting for Nie Mingjue’s good. He’d thought he was helping. He had trusted Jin Guangyao's sweet words, trusted the power of Cleansing, trusted… 

Nie Mingjue freed one of his hands, and leaned closer to rub circles on Lan Xichen's back, encouraging him to breathe. It was Lan Xichen's worst attack since the night he awoke with memories not quite his own. Panic and guilt mixed together, closing his throat tighter so no air could get to his lungs. It lasted long enough that Lan Xichen wondered if it might be possible for him to die like this. 

Just as soon as that idea hit him, his body's desperate need for air became stronger than the power of his memories, and he was able to take one shaky breath. He gasped and coughed, all too aware of the eyes of other patrons on him, while Nie Mingjue continued rubbing his back. 

"Wipe your face," Nie Mingjue gently ordered when his friend had calmed down, handing him a napkin. "Do you need to go out for some fresh air, or do you prefer to sit?" 

"Sit," Lan Xichen replied in a raspy voice as he dried his tears. "Sorry. It happens sometimes. It looks worse than it is."

Nie Mingjue said nothing. A fresh pot of tea was ordered, which soothed Lan Xichen's poor throat and warmed him up again. He still felt a little fragile, but put on a smile to hide it. This, in turn, only made Nie Mingjue frown. 

"Your uncle told me he was worried about your health when I saw him some weeks ago, but I didn't realise it was this bad."

"My health is fine," Lan Xichen protested. After one sharp look from his friend, he continued: "It really isn't that bad. I've been a little anxious, that's all. It's hard not to be in the current climate." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Haven't the Wen just absorbed another sect?" 

Nie Mingjue grimly nodded. The leader of a sect had just died, and Wen Ruohan had promptly married his youngest son to the man's daughter and claimed the whole sect. It was not something they could openly discuss, but the issue was serious and should have distracted Nie Mingjue from the panic attack he'd witnessed. 

It did not quite work. 

"Your uncle too mentioned something about that when I saw him. He used to be pretty sure nothing would happen, but lately he's been keeping me updated on that sort of news." 

Lan Xichen hesitated. His plan regarding the war, so far, had been to stay out of things. The Sunshot campaign appeared to him like a terrible thing that could not, should not be avoided, like a great fire that would allow for a healthier regrowth. Perhaps he might have hoped to lessen the damage, but ultimately nothing less than a war could rid them of Wen Ruohan. 

That plan to allow for the war to unfold naturally was countered by two things. 

The first was that Lan Xichen had already changed the way it would happen. If everything went as he hoped, Meng Yao would never become a spy amidst the Wens, something which had been crucial to their victory (or something that had appeared to be so to the man Lan Xichen had become; he was ever so fond of that Meng Yao, perhaps the memories of that dark future were tainted by that). It was after all unlikely that the Jiangs would ever give Meng Yao any help to join Lanling Jin, his first step toward spying on Wen Ruohan… and that was supposing Meng Yao even survived long enough to take part in the war, when most of Yunmeng Jiang was fated to be slaughtered.

And this was the second issue with Lan Xichen’s initial plan. He had, from the start, been uncomfortable with allowing the slaughter of the Lotus Pier to happen, even when it would someday become agreed that nothing less than this attack on a Great Sect could have convinced the cultivation world to finally rebel against the Wens. But just because people in the future found ways to justify that disaster didn’t make it right to do nothing to avoid it. Lan Xichen was taking measures to protect his sect, wasn’t it his responsibility to also help others?

Having been cursed with that knowledge, wasn’t it his duty to…

“Breathe,” Nie Mingjue said, his hand on Lan Xichen’s shoulder once more. “Slowly, breathe in, breathe out. There you go.”

Lan Xichen obeyed, and managed to avoid another attack, though only narrowly, and only because the fear of the Sunshot Campaign was his alone. The man he would have become had made his peace with the horror witnessed during that time, but Lan Xichen himself was overcome by terror every time he thought about what was to come.

It was a burden too heavy for his shoulders alone, and he alone couldn’t have done much to prevent that dark future from coming to pass, at least where that war was concerned.

So perhaps he needed to not do it alone. What good had secrets done to Jin Guangyao, to Nie Huaisang, in that future that would not be? It had turned them into monsters, bitter and too willing to hurt others, and for what? Jin Guangyao had lost everything, Nie Huaisang had become isolated from everyone who had ever cared about him, and all just because they wanted to be in control, because they thought nobody around them was worthy of being told the truth.

Lan Xichen refused to become like them

“Mingjue-xiong, do you trust me?” he asked when he had calmed down again, and breathing wasn’t such a struggle.

“You wouldn’t be my friend if I didn’t trust you,” came the answer, honest and earnest and so painful that Lan Xichen thought panic would seize him again over that underserved trust.

But this time he managed to keep his calm, either because he was too exhausted to panic again, or because his mind saw this as a chance to right some of the wrong he would have caused in the future.

“I have something to tell you,” Lan Xichen said as he stood up. “But we’ll need to be somewhere more private. It’s going to sound completely crazy to you, but… you need to know.”

Nie Mingjue looked worried but quietly stood up as well. They left the inn together and took flight, making their sword rise high in the sky, where no one might spy on them without their notice.

“So, here is what happened,” Lan Xichen explained when he felt he could do it safely. “Around this time last year, I had a vision…”

He wouldn’t, couldn’t say everything, because it would have been too cruel to plague Nie Mingjue with the knowledge of his own early death, to tell him how loss and rage would turn his beloved brother into a man he might have despised. But the rest, the Wen’s exactions, the war that loomed over them… this Lan Xichen shared with more details than he’d ever given to Lan Qiren. Nie Mingjue listened, first with astonishment, then with concern, eventually with anger. 

"Are you sure?" Nie Mingjue asked when Lan Xichen had finished a quick tale of what was to come. 

"I know it's odd, and I won't blame you if you find it impossible to believe." 

Nie Mingjue did not reply right away, a deep frown creasing his forehead. 

"You've already had proof, and you're sure of it. That's good enough for me. Now let's find a quiet place to talk about this. I'll need you to tell me everything you remember about the Wen's forces, so I can start preparing." 

Lan Xichen felt breathless again, but this time it was gratitude overwhelming him. He'd forgotten how good Nie Mingjue was. Those last few months had spoiled so much, souring old memories, but there had been such great times before that. There would be even more, in this new life, this new chance they'd been given. 

This time, he swore to himself, he would be worthy of that affection.

#xisang #nie mingjue #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #double time travel #jau writes

[dreadpoetssociety]

I Told You So

TW: Suicide, abuse, kidnapping, blood, death

Note: Sorry for any spelling or grammatical mistakes, I didn’t go back through it LOL, but I may in the future. Enjoy !!! 

Request: “hi was wondering if i could request a reid x sister fic where the reader gets a boyfriend and spencer doesn’t like him and it turns out the boyfriend is an unsub. i love your work so much!!!”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Sister!Reader

()()()()()()

When Spencer met your boyfriend for the first time, he told you immediately after that he didn’t like him. He began explaining the signs he was noticing, but you didn’t dare to listen. You told him he was a great guy, and that he was just being over protective because he was your brother. You told him to stop profiling everyone you meet, that who you date and who you’re friends with is entirely up to you, and that he should just let you live things out on your own. Of course, you did appreciate his concerns, but you just figured he was a bit overdramatic. I mean, you were all just kids, and of course Spence would have a biased view on you hanging out or dating someone.

Your boyfriend’s name was Noah. You’d been dating for about four months, he had wavy hair, dressed pretty plainly, very smart, and liked classic rock (Except Led Zeppelin, damn did he hate that band.) You’d met after the death of a mutual friend, Elaine Richards, a year ago, and the two of you became close after helping each other through such a hard time. You hung out all the time, called all the time, merged your friend groups together. Everything. And you loved him. Your friends all knew you both liked each other, and eventually, you finally went out on a date.

School had ended, and you had just got to the apartment to actually see Spencer in it, which was a very rare occurrence. 

“Hey Spence! I didn’t know you were off.” you said with a smile.

“I’m not, actually. There’s a case locally.” he said, which turned your smile o a frown.

“Well that’s not good.” you replied, trying to lighten his mood. He seemed stressed and aggravated, as that happened every once in a while when a case was particularly difficult. It always made you feel bad for him., “We should go do something before you have to go back. You know, some good ol’ sibling bonding.” 

“Sorry, Y/N, but not today. Serial killers don’t exactly wait for ‘sibling bonding.”” he sighed, annoyed. You figured at this point you’d just leave him to his thoughts, and decided to go out.

“I’m going out with Noah then. “ you replied, grabbing some of your things together. You didn’t’t notice, but this grabbed Spencer’s attention.

“No, Y/N, you’re staying here. This guy that’s out there is killing people who look like you. You fit his type.” he explained, “And I don’t trust Noah, not for a second.” 

“Jesus, Spencer, can you stop profiling literally everyone? There’s thousands of girls in this city that look like me, what makes you think I’m the one he’s gonna scoop up?” you realized that was a bit insensitive, and that you probably should care about those other girls, “Besides, wouldn’t it be safer to not be alone? You’re going back to the BAU anyway.” 

“Y/N, seriously, this can happen to anyone. You of all people should know that.” he answered. You knew what he was referring to. So a girl almost gets kidnapped once, and suddenly must live her whole life in fear.

“Spencer, that was a while ago.” you said in a small voice, “I don’ want to be afraid of it anymore.”

At that point, Spencer sighed and realized that he most likely shouldn’t have brought up the experience. He of all people should know that this was your way of trying to move on, and bringing up the past would mostly just set you back majorly, but his answer still stayed the same, “I shouldn’t have brought the up, but you’re still not going. I don’t trust Noah, you know that. Especially with a serial killer on the loose, Y/N. You’re staying home.”

This just pissed you off, “You know, you’re not right 100% of the time. You think you know everything about everybody you meet, but you literally do not. Noah is so good to me, and you just bash him and for what? I get you’re worried, but it’s started to get old. I’m not a kid anymore.” 

You walked off into your room without any other words being exchanged, and had decided you would just go anyway once Spencer left. You aren’t generally the rebellious type, but every once in a while you liked to have a little fun here and there. Spencer wasn’t home for long, after finding whatever it was he was looking for, and you just walked out the front door ten minutes after he did, texting Noah along the way. 

Your boyfriend lived nearby, so it didn’t really take him long to come driving up in his black sedan. You loved his car. It was so sleek, had a brown leather interior, a wood dashboard, and just drove beautifully. If he ever put it up for sale, you would buy it. But once you got into the car, you realized something was off. Noah seemed antsy, like something was bothering him.

“Hey, baby, what’s going on?” you asked, concerned. Noah got like this every once in a while, and you figure dit was just anxiety or something along those lines, and all you could ever do was jus be there for him.

“It’s nothing don’t worry about it.” he answered, somewhat blandly. Almost monotone, like he wasn’t happy to be there. But he was, and for what reason you were unaware. 

“Alright.” you said, “Let’s go to the mall, but not the one downtown, the one off the highway.” 

“No.” he snapped. He then recognized your surprised expression, “I mean, sorry, I just have a surprise for you.” this made you smile. Your boyfriend had always been a hopeless romantic, and he would constantly surprise you with nice dinners, cute gifts, and it just made your heart warm. He drove for a while, to an area you’d actually never been o that seemed to be completely secluded. There were empty fields, and eventually an old house that looked to be abandoned. You didn’t pass by much after that, except for one cemetery and a church. Even you had to admit, it was a bit weird, but knowing Noah, you knew to just be patient. He didn’t talk much the whole time, and just sat there smiling as he drove. The windows were closed, and you also noticed the doors were locked, but thought nothing of it.

“Spencer wasn’t even going to let me go out tonight, isn’t that so stupid? Like, he said some wack about some serial killer who’s been killing girls nearby. I looked it up, but they kinda seem to be right outside of town, like the dude’s avoiding it or something. I guess that girl from the Washington High soccer team got killed, too. It’s sort of scary.”

“That’s a shame.” was all he said in response.

Eventually, you pulled up to another house. It was absolutely destroyed, but you trusted him anyway. Stupidly. The two fo you walked in, and walked down to its basement. You knew Noah really dug these abandoned places, and you did, too, but the basement was full of rusted weapons, ropes, a table in the middle with restraints. It hadn’t clicked just yet.

“Noah, I don’t think I’m really fe-“ you turned around and were he was, gun in hand, pointe dat you, “What are you doing?”

“Get in the chair, and don’t scream.” he demanded. His whole personality changed. He was dominant, and his voice was heavier. You complied. He tied you tightly to it.

“So it’s you then?” you asked, weirdly calm. 

“Shut the hell up, Y/N.” and you did. You looked around you as he walked into another room. Looking to your right you noticed a shelf full of random things, mostly girl’s clothes and rings. Until you recognized one of them. A brown sweater with a tear in the shoulder, folded neatly on he bottom. Your heart stopped.

That was Elaine’s. And you had cut the shoulder open by accident after the two of you were messing around.

“Elaine?” you whispered, “You killed Elaine, didn’t you? She didn’t kill herself, you did! This whole time you faked it? You killed her and I mourned her and you pretended to feel with me? You killed her?” It was now that you fully processed what was happening. Your mind was racing, your heart was pounding, and all you could think about was the amount of clothes up on that shelf, and the fact that you were about to die. The items on the shelf far exceeded the numbers on the news. 

“I said shut the hell up, Y/N” he screamed, hitting you across the face with something solid, which knocked you out quickly, but not for long. The dizziness and pain when you woke up two minutes later was almost unbearable, and you had to re-process what was happening to you all over again.

Until your phone rang from the other side of the room. He must’ve taken it while you were out, and the ringtone was specialized to let you know that it was Spencer who was calling. 

“If I don’t answer it he’ll know. He’ll track everything from before I got here.” you said. Noah shot you a look, but promptly brought the phone to you. 

“Say anything, and I’ll make it painful.” he held a gun to you again, and your heart rate went up. He slide the phone open.

“Y/N?” you’d never been happier to hear your brother’s voice, “Where are you? I told you to stay home, and you’re not here.”

“Sorry,” your voice wavered slightly, “I just really missed Elaine Richards. I went to Southwoods Cemetery to visit her.”

Spencer sighed, “Please get back here as soon as possible, Y/N.” and he hung up. You prayed he picked something up.

()()()()()()

Spencer knew as soon as you spoke that something was wrong. Firstly, you’d never referred to your friend by first and last name, and Spencer actually hadn’t really known her last name until now, and secondly, Elaine wasn’t buried at Southwoods Cemetery. She was buried in the complete opposite direction, actually, at Rose Hill. He couldn’t pinpoint why you would say Southwoods, and why you would talk about Elaine, but he completely forgot about his case, and sped back to the BAU. 

The team knew instantly hat something wasn’t right when Spencer came back to the office. He couldn’t pay attention to the case evidence enough to put it together, and wasn’t staying on track.

“Reid, what’s going on?” Hotch asked him.  Spencer shook his head.

“Something’s not right.” he said, “Y/N went out earlier, but something’s not adding up.”

“I’m sure she’s alright, kid, teenagers go out all the time.” Morgan joked.

“No, no, really. I understand how the teenage mind develops, and how their brains develop. I know that rebellion is primarily a process that teens go through almost as a way to reject a “child” identity. I know that. But this wasn’t that. I told her not to go out, but she did anyway.” he rambled.

“Spence, kids do that.” JJ reassured.

“No, it’s not right. When I called to ask where she was, she would’ve lied. She wouldn’t have known I was home. She said she was visiting her friend’s grave, but she used her full name and said the wrong cemetery, her voice wavered, but nervously, not in a way that expresses sadness. If she had snuck out, she wouldn’t tell me she went there, and especially get the cemetery wrong when she’s been going to Rose Hill practically religiously. Southwoods is in an area she barely ever goes to.” he explained. Then his eyes grew a bit, “Garcia, can you trace her call?”

“I can try.” she said, rushing back to her computers, the team close behind. They knew not to question Spence, most of the time he was right. They all sat there for about three minutes before Garcia spoke up again, “That’s weird.”

“What?” Prentiss spoke up.

“Reid, her phone pinged off of like, twelve different towers in the two minutes you called her. I can’t track a location for the last hour.” she turned to him, concerned. The team all looked at each other worriedly. 

“We’ll have to split up, we’ve still go a case and this is off protocol.” Hotch broke the silence, bearer of bad news.

“No, actually, I think it’s the same case.” Spencer sighed. He looked up at them, “She fits the UnSub’s type.”

“You can’t be a part of this then, Spencer.” Hotch replied, which caused him to whip around, “It’s personal now. You’re  victim.”

“There’s no say in this.” Spencer had never defied Hotch’s authority before, but his sister was missing, “What do we have so far?”

“Well, we know he’s a sadist, white male, probably in his 30’s. He’d be social, fit in with a crowd. Probably good with the ladies, which means he sticks out, but not too much.” Prentiss relayed. Spencer thought for a moment. Who would you know that fit that profile at all. This UnSub seemed to make a connection with these girls beforehand. The team thought that maybe the victims were a surrogate to a daughter, or a sister.

“I don’t know how this related to Elaine and Southwoods. Southwoods is an hour and a half away, I had only been gone for about an hour, so she couldn’t have made it there yet.”

“Reid, who is Elaine?” Morgan asked.

“Elaine Richards. She was a friend of Y/N’s who died about a year ago. She committed suicide.”  Spencer explained. They were all silent for a moment.

“Garcia, can you bring up a picture of Elaine?” JJ asked. The analyst nodded and did so quickly, showing a picture of a brown hair, brown eyed, thin girl. It was saddening, really. They’re always too young. But JJ had confirmed her thought, “Spence, what if it wasn’t a suicide?” 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“She fits his victim ideal, the hair, the eyes. Her file says she was smart, she had friends. They interviewed an ex boyfriend, her father, so on.” JJ explained, “What if Y/N stumbled onto something she shouldn’t have? Maybe Elaine was one of his victims staged as a suicide. The profile says he became active a few weeks ago, but what if it’s been a year? Maybe he’s been testing things out until he finally got something he liked.” 

“Garcia, bring up Elaine’s autopsy report. Is there anything about anything that matches up with his current MO?” Spencer asked, “Elaine was found at the basin of a bridge within the water. It was written that she had jumped off.” 

“Uhh,” she hesitated, “I’m not seeing anything. . . Wait. Yes, yes there is. The UnSub usually cuts three lines on their necks, right? Elaine had them, too, but there was loads of glass under her, so it was written off that she’d been cut when she reached the ground.” 

“This means he’s been at it for at least a year, then. The profile is wrong. This changes everything.” Prentiss sighed. Spencer still couldn’t pinpoint who you would’ve trusted enough that fit the rest of the profile, until it hit him. Noah.

“I knew there was something wrong with that boy.” Spencer said aloud, “Y/N’s boyfriend, Noah. He fits every part of the profile. We got the age wrong, he’s a teenager. He knew Elaine, too.”

“Noah’s the name of the ex boyfriend they interviewed.” Garcia stated. “Noah Allen.” 

“That’s him.” Spencer said, “What do we know about him?”

“Well, his parents are divorced, his mother lives somewhere in California while his father- oh geez. His father has a history of abuse towards his second ex-wife, who,” she stopped, “this poor kid. His second ex wife committed suicide after trying to file multiple reports of abuse towards her and Noah about three years ago. His father was finally convicted a year ago and sentenced to life in prison.” 

“That must’ve been the trigger. He blames her for his father being sent away.” Hotch said.

“But why would he be angry? Wouldn’t he be happy to see his abuser in prison?” Garcia asked.

“He’s lived with his father his whole life. Most likely he’d developed some kind of Stockholm Syndrome or was manipulated into thinking that’s how life was. He thinks his father can do no wrong.” Morgan said.

“But what’s this have to do with Southwoods? She wouldn’t have made it that far, and something tells me they were already at their destination.” JJ asked.

“Who owns Southwoods?” Spencer asked.

“Let me see. . . The Burke Family. They also own funeral homes.” Garcia said.

“Do they own any other cemeteries?” 

“Yes, one, Marshall Fields Cemetery. It’s in a more secluded area. It was considered completely full a few months ago.” she replied.

“Garcia, are there any properties around there that Noah’s family would’ve owned? Even a family friend?” Morgan jumped in.

“His uncle owned a house about a mile and a half up the road. It’s the only house in a two mile radius. It was foreclosed a few years ago and hasn’t been bought or even kept up since.” she said, “I’m sending you the address now.” 

“Let’s go.” Hotch demanded. The team ran to the garage and jumped into the SUV’s, but Hotch stopped Spencer beforehand, “You know you could get in trouble for this. This case is too personal.”

‘“I really don’t even care.” Spencer answered, quite informally. Hotchner sighed, and let him go.

()()()()()() 

It’d been a few hours by this point. You were beaten up, bloody, concussed probably. Noah had used a whole slew of different objects to torture you, pipes, knives, anything he could find. You could barely stay awake, but he wouldn’t let you fall asleep.

“I’m not going to let you die, yet.” he said with a twisted smile, “That ruins all the fun.” 

“They’ll come for you.” you replied faintly, blood dripping from your mouth. He yanked your head back by your hair, which caused a deafening wail from the bottom of your throat.

“They won’t find me. If they could, they would’ve by now.” he giggled. He tightened your wrists until you almost couldn’t feel your hands. Your shoulders were sore from being tied behind your back, but that didn’t amount to the pain in the rest of your body. You bleeding out practically everywhere, you could feel the start of every bruise forming, your head spun and pounded, and you were convinced you had a few broken ribs at least. 

“W-why?” you huffed out with tears.

“Why? Why? I’ll tell you why. I spent my whole life looking up to my father, but it’s women like you who ruin men’s lives. And for what? For attention? For power? You’ll never be on the same playing field, but the system is so messed up that it threw my father in prison for something that wasn’t his fault. He didn’t make Brenda kill herself, she did that on her own. And her reasoning? How she cried about him abusing us?” he let out a posh laugh, “That’s just how the world is. She should’ve known her place like I knew mine. And should’ve never spoken for me.” 

“Why me?” your face twisted in pain as you spoke, but if you were going to die, you at east had to know.

“I just told you!” he slapped you, causing you to sob, “It’s stupid women like you, Y/N. You just exist to ruin lives, and I’m going to stop you before you start.” 

But the door upstairs burst open just then, causing him to look. You smiled mischieviously, “They’re here. You better let them get to you before I do.” you threatened. It was an empty threat of course, given your state, but you felt so much rage that you honestly thought you might’ve killed him, too, which scared you.

“Noah Allen, FBI!” you recognized Emily’s voice, and it was like music to your ears. 

Noah had moved towards you and covered your mouth, holding a gun to your head, waiting for them to come down stairs. You watched frantically as you saw JJ and Morgan step carefully down.

“Noah, drop your weapon.” JJ demanded. At this point, Spencer, Hotch, and Prentiss joined them after hearing JJ speak. Spencer’s expression was horrified, and angry. 

“Death is an honor, you know.” Noah taunted as he pulled your head slightly back. 

“Noah, you don’t have to do this. If you cooperate, we can lessen your sentence, and we can negotiate a deal for your father.” Hotch said. Noah’s head turned slightly.

“That’s not how the system works and you know it. You’re lying!” he yelled.

“That’s not how the system works for civilians. I’m the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I can pull some strings, but only if you let her go.” he said. Spencer was surprised, Hotch never really used lying as a coercion, but he understood that all this boy wanted was his father to be free, and that he wasn’t a rational thinker. He’d fall for it.

“Swear? Swear on God?” Noah asked.

“Yes, Noah, I swear on God.” Hotch said. The boy lowered his weapon and came closer, but was startled when Morgan quickly, and not so kindly cuffed him.

“What? What are you doing?” he yelled out.

“Noah Allen, you are under arrest for multiple counts of murder. You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer quest-“

“What the hell! You lied! I’ll kill you for ly-“

“Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future.” and with that Morgan walked him out with a few other backup, while the rest of the BAU rushed towards you.

“Y/N? Are you okay? Can you hear me? What hurts?” Spencer asked questions at about a mile a minute, but you ignored them.

“I g-guess,” you painfully said, “I guess this is that part where you say ‘I told you so.’ huh?” 

“Y/N, I don’t care about that.” he said, holding your face trying to check for any signs of concussions, that were definitely there, while Prentiss and JJ worked on getting you untied. One you were, you tried to stand up, stupidly.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Hotch said as you almost fell and hit the floor, “take it easy.”

You had your arm wrapped around Spencer while JJ had her hand pressed on your upper back and above your chest to keep you balanced.

“Heh, so humble.” were your last words before blacking out.

“A medic! Somebody get a medic, goddammit!” Spencer yelled, as he and JJ slowly followed you to the door, “Y/N? Stay awake.” 

()()()()()()

You woke up with bright white lines shining in your eyes. Confused you tried to sit up, but painfully failed.

“Y/N? Wait, Y/N, no, no, no, no, no, lay down.” you heard Morgan’s voice and felt him slowly and gently push you back down to the pillow, “How you feeling, kiddo?”

“Like sunshine.” you mumbled sarcastically. You heard Spencer chuckle, “I’m sorry. You were right.”

“Y/N, it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re safe now.” he said. His face dropped, “Y/N, I’m honestly impressed by the hints you gave us. It was clever, and you just saved a bunch of lives.”

“They’re going to have to question you soon. They don’t care what condition you’re in.” Morgan stated.

“I don’t even really remember.” you whispered, eyes closing from exhaustion. 

“They’ll do a cognitive interview with you, then. It won’t be fun. But for now, get some rest.” Spencer knew that it didn’t matter what he said anyway, because you were already half way asleep. He was glad that you were falling asleep on your own accord, rather than from being knocked out or drugged up, and smiled at you. He swore then to do better at keeping you safe, and also not to underestimate you, either. How you knew that he would pick up on something as simple as a last name and a cemetery chain was beyond him, but it made him realize that you were actually much smarter than you ever let off. He patted your head gently, before falling asleep in a chair near your bed. 

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x sister reader #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds oneshots #aaron hotchner #hotch #emily prentiss #prentiss #Penelope Garcia #Jennifer Jareau #spencer reid #reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x sister reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #derek morgan #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n

[buckysgoldenheart]

Watching You

Walter Marshall x Reader

Summary: Walter did not like to waste time on stupid things, and being asked by some young troublemaker to start following an ex-girlfriend around fell under that category. At least, it did, until he found out just who the ex-girlfriend was.

Words:  2334

Warnings: Cursing. Slight smut. Not Edited or anything of the sort, so expect little!

Note: This is just something I had saved that I thought I’d post while I finish up the Vampire Henry Series (Unexpectedly Bitten). I plan to post the rest of that fic all at once, most likely this weekend. As always, comments are appreciated :)

What a no-good loser. That’s what Walter thought the second Jimmy Masters walked through the front door of his office on a Saturday evening. He was a good six inches shorter than Walter, much scrawnier, ten years younger at least, and in desperate need of a haircut. He was the kind of kid Walter hated, the kind of kid that had probably seen the inside of a jailcell for a night or two for some stupid, petty crime, yet refused to learn his lesson.

Walter’s eyebrow arched in disinterest and he sat back in his chair, arms crossed as a coworker led the kid inside.

“We think this falls in your area, Marshall.”

Walter had only nodded and told the boy to sit to explain his reason for interrupting the first moment of peace in the day.

“I got a friend who says detectives know how to follow people real well,” Jimmy said, his voice an aggravating tone that Walter already couldn’t stand.

Walter cleared his throat. “Your friend is rather astute.”

“What?”

The detective blew out a breath, exhausted after speaking with the kid for less than a minute. “Just tell me what you want.” And when Jimmy was done with his pitch, Walter said with a sigh, “You want me to follow a girl that clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you?”

“No, man. She loves me. She does. She’s just confused right now, and I gotta make sure there’s no other guy, ya know? I don’t want her messing around. It’s disrespectful.”

Walter heaved out another long sigh, rubbing at his temples. “But she’s your ex-girlfriend.”

Jimmy shook his head, his shaggy, dusty-blond hair swaying vigorously with the motion. “That’s temporary.”

Snorting, Walter sat up in his chair. “Sure it is. Look, you think maybe she just isn’t interested anymore?”

“Hey, I’m not here for additional commentary. Can you help me or not?”

“From what you’ve said, she’s not breaking any laws, she’s not a danger to herself or others, so I have no reason to—”

“Please, man. Please,” Jimmy said, putting his palms together in lame prayer. Walter was sure this boy hadn’t prayed to anything in his entire life. “I’ll never step foot in here again if you help me out just this once.”

Walter eyed the kid, trying to weight the pros and cons of wasting his time on something so inane, but if it got the little, blond twit to go away, then he figured there were worse things. It had been a slow week as it was. He groaned and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. “Fine. What’s her name?”

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

“Walter,” You said, trying to hold back any emotion in your voice as you moved aside to let him pass the threshold into your small apartment. As habit had it, you were much happier to see him than you wished. Walter always had a way of lighting your every nerve on fire from just your bodies being in the same room. You couldn’t help wanting him, missing him, but you hid it well.

As he walked in, his body trailed the outside chill behind, sending a shiver down your spine. Then he pulled the beanie you’d bought him off his head and turned to face you. Though the irritated look on his face was not an uncommon one, you didn’t appreciate it directed at you.

You crossed your arms. “Well?” Walter hung around quite often until you had asked him to quit it, and though he didn’t usually listen to you--putting his own concerns above your wishes--you knew he held a respect for you that made him at least try to keep his distance. If he was stopping by now…well, it could only bring you trouble, but not seeing his face in so long had you more lenient.

“Why is some punk walking into my precinct and asking me to follow you?”

Your eyebrows rose. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. How many punks could you possibly have hanging around?”

Being a decade older, Walter often made you laugh at his distaste for younger adults. You were the one exception, he’d always said, but all others were ‘punks.’ He feared the day Faye had to deal with boys your age, if she were ever so unlucky. “You met Jimmy?”

His fists kept clenching and unclenching, his shoulders somehow broadened, and the frown on his face made his eyebrows pinch and dip deep. “This idiot is really attached to you, Y/N.”

The more he spoke, the more you realized that ‘irritated’ may have been too sweet a word for what Walter really was. “He just doesn’t like his ego being bruised.”

Walter shrugged off his winter coat and tossed it on the couch as if it was still normal for him to do so, then ran a hand through the dark, messy curls you always loved. “Why the hell are you messing around with a--?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not messing around with him anymore.”

“Well, he seems to think it’s temporary.”

“It’s not.”

Crossing his arms, Walter shook his head like a disappointed parent would at their bratty, misbehaving child; the way you’d seen him look at Faye every time he found out she was spending too much time on social media. “Stay away from this guy, alright?”

“You would tell me to stay away from any guy,” You mumbled to yourself with a snort.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

“Do not give me attitude,” He snapped back. “You’re not being safe! If you were, maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation!"

Instantly, your shoulders stooped and the same old headache began to form. “Not this again, Walt. According to you I’m never safe unless I’m in your line of sight.”

“Yes!” He yelled, stomping your way, stopping just short of ramming his body through yours. “Now if only you could stay in it!”

“You can’t have eyes on me all day every day.”

“The hell I can’t!”

“You promised, Walter.” You let out a small whine. “I told you it was too hard for me to keep seeing you around wherever I went, and you promised you would stop watching me.” You wished it didn’t have to be that way. You wished seeing his face didn’t bring on such a potent punch of pain, but it did. Every single day when you left your apartment, you saw him standing by his car, a coffee cup in hand, unashamedly watching you like some creep. Eventually, you stopped looking in the direction you knew he would be, hoping you may forget he was there at all, but you always felt his eyes on you; such a strong stare, he might as well have been touching you. But you couldn’t take it. Months of your every move being tracked by the man you loved but couldn’t have was taking its toll, and so you begged him to leave you alone, to give you some relief.

“I did stop, and what happened? Barely a month after I made that stupid promise, some dumb, obsessed kid comes asking me to stalk you.”

You leaned back against the wall, growing more exhausted by the minute. “Well, with all the past practice you’ve had watching my every move, I’d say he was rather smart to pick you of all people. Shitty coincidence that he would though, since now I’m getting lectured.”

“I am not lecturing you.”

“Fine, but whatever this is you’re doing here, you’re out of line. My business is not your business anymore. It hasn’t been your business for the last five months.”

“Your little boyfriend came to me,” He said, pointing a finger at his chest, “so yes, it is my bus--”

“It is not!” You bit back. “You could’ve turned him away. You could’ve told him not to follow me around unless he was itching to get a restraining order, but you didn’t, did you? You took this opportunity to check up on me. Again!”

He stepped back, looking as if you had slapped him. His aggressive, guarded barrier of emotions cracked, and you could see the vulnerability he hadn’t shown since your relationship ended.

“Walter” You sighed, “You’re the one who stepped back. You’re the one who said it would be best if we weren’t in a relationship. You said I was a distraction and—”

“I said you’d be at risk, not that you’re a distraction.”

“It doesn’t make a difference.”

“Damn it, Y/N, it does! I only did it because I love you!” He said without hesitation, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You know that!”

You blinked. “No, I did not know that! You seriously broke up with me because you love me? That’s ridiculous.”

“I broke up with you to keep you safe, but I clearly suffered for nothing seeing as you put yourself in unsafe situations even without my association.”

You wanted to believe him, so bad, but people don’t leave behind the ones they love. After all, you loved him and the thought of leaving him made you nauseous, even now. When you were together, he may have appeared in love, but after a year he still hadn’t told you and you knew you’d let yourself get a little too hopeful. If you were honest with yourself, him breaking up with you was not as much of a shock as it should’ve been. But as you looked at him now, you could see that he truly believed you already knew.

“It doesn’t make sense that you would do that,” You said. “People don’t just break up with someone they love.”

“Fuck, Y/N, did I ever seem unhappy with you? Did I ever come across like I didn’t want you every second of every day? My every other thought was of you,” He said loudly, like a rant, and you were having a hard time figuring out who he was mad at. “So don’t try to tell me how I felt, and feel now. I still love you and that’s not going to change, but I can’t have criminals, murderers even, coming after you because they are pissed at me for hunting them down or having a case against them. It would take nothing for the average officer or detective to figure out that you and I were together even if we were hiding it. How hard do you think it would be for some psychopath?”

You hadn’t realized a tear slipped down your cheek until you tasted it at the corner of your lips. It was salty but somehow bitter and left a thick burning path along your skin. You quickly wiped it away. “Why didn’t you tell me this months ago?”

“Because, stubborn as you are, you wouldn’t have listened. You would have told me it didn’t matter.” He fell backwards onto the couch, closing his eyes and letting out a groan. “I try to do the right thing. I try to protect you, thinking everything will be fine as long as no one can link you to me, but I can’t…stay away.” His eyes met yours. “And then you beg me to, and it’s excruciating to obey. When I was able to watch over you, it reminded me that I did the right thing. You were safe and I could constantly be reassured of that.”

You walked over to him, your heart thumping with every step, then sat on your knees in front of him, placing your hand atop his own resting on his thigh. His other hand reached for your face and his fingers softly grazed your cheek before they tucked some hair behind your ear. “Walt—”

“That kid…Jimmy,” Walter interrupted as he began tracing the back of your hand with his thumb. “He thinks you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not.”

“You swear?”

“Of course, Walt. I told you--”

“I know,” He said with a single nod of his head. “I know. Maybe I’ll actually get some sleep now.”

You rested your cheek on the inner side of his knee and said, “You could sleep here.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” You bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t even dare to count how many times you’d had sex during the course of your relationship, but now, asking him not to leave made your pulse thrum in your ears.

He leaned forward and looked down at you. “Because I don’t think I can say no to you.”

“Then why would you bother trying,” You whispered without a second thought and slowly inched up on your knees so you could connect your lips with his.

It lasted only a second or two before he broke the kiss, grabbed you by the arm, and yanked you onto his lap. His grip at the back of your neck pulled your mouth to his as your hand slipped between your bodies and quickly started to undo his belt buckle.

“God, baby,” Walter groaned against your lips when you wrapped your fingers around his thick cock and released it from his jeans. He pulled the ratty, old t-shirt of his over your shoulders and softly settled his hands on your hips. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just…missed these,” He said, placing a kiss on one bare breast, then the other. “I missed you, so much.” He placed his lips to the curve of your neck, then met your eyes. “I miss you every fucking day.”

You kissed his forehead, and his arms tightened around you as you lifted your hips and sank down onto him. “I missed you too, Walter,” You said, but the words melted somewhere within the mix of your moans and his groans.

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

Tags: @agniavateira​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @summersong69​ @starlite13​ @mstgsmy​ @purplelove75​ @defffcc​ @the-soot-sprite​ @kissthatlifeaway​ @atomicpaperhairdouniversity​ @aquariuslavenderhoney​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @the-problem-of-leisure​ @meganwinchester1999​

#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall fic #walter marshall fics #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall fanfics #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall oneshot #walter marshall one shot #nomis #night hunter #walter marshall x female reader #walter marshall x you #walter marshall x y/n #henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fics #henry cavill fanfics #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill oneshot #henry cavill one shot #walter marshall imagine #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n

[ficsnroses]

Pregnancy Headcanons - John Wick x Reader

❧ may be read as a follow up to these.

warnings : pregnancy. smut. morning sickness mention. mega fluff.

words : 2.3k. requested by a lovely anon!

notes : remember ages ago when I said I’d whip these up? I did em! I couldn’t fit all my ideas. lemme know if you’d like to see another one of these with a similar concept. feedback appreciated as always! 

I love headcanons. so easy. so carefree. so much to say. don’t forget that you can request headcanons, too! not just full fics or drabbles.

A few weeks ago, John and you found out you were pregnant. Initially, it’s been slightly frightening to know that in a mere nine months or so, John and you will have a baby, a little human, who’s entire world you two will be, and they will be yours in return.

You’re more frightened, being the one carrying your child. You have your fears of not being good enough, or not knowing how to be the utmost perfect mother you can be to your baby.

John, however, is ecstatic. He’s frightened as well; he’s never done this before. Yet, he keeps it under wraps for you. For you, John always puts on a brave face and holds your hand each step of the way.

He goes out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable and well taken care of. So far, your belly isn’t even showing; but there is life inside. John has always treated you as a queen, but it has intensified tenfold after he got you pregnant.

Not a dish in the house is allowed to be washed by you, not a cloth may be touched. John wants to you relax and take it easy, focus on yourself. He truly believes that as long as you’re happy and healthy, the baby will be too.

John has always been an absolute sweetheart; nonetheless, since you’ve gotten pregnant, he’s only gotten lovelier. Many times, you fear you’re dreaming, and may wake up soon. John Wick is quite literally;

too good to be true.

Each morning, he’ll nuzzle into your chest, smiling a goofy grin.

“Morning, beautiful.” He whispers into your hair, peppering soft kisses to your temples and forehead. “And to you too, peanut.” He smiles, heavy hand rested to your growing tummy. John never misses an opportunity to tell you how much he loves you, and your baby. Despite them not even being here yet. He knows that this pregnancy will take a toll on you; he’d wish for more than anything that he could carry the pain instead of you, which is why he showers you with love. He’d never want you to forget how important you are; how much you mean. You’re his entire world and this means more to him than you can imagine.

Morning sickness has been tough. Often, you’ll wake up feeling nauseous, however, you feel secure knowing you have a team player on your side. Occasionally, in the middle of the night when you’re up at 3:00am feeling awful, John helps you out of bed, holding your hair up for you and rubbing small, soothing circles to your back in the washroom.

“I’m going to make you ginger tea, alright babe?” He quietly speaks, leaving a speckled kiss to your shoulder as you freshen up. You feel awful keeping him up this late, John always needs rest due to his gruesome job.

Foot rubs and massages get a lot more common as your tummy grows. John doesn’t mind, he enjoys the intimacy and being close to you.

Speaking of intimacy…

You continue having sex for as long as you can, because you both know that down the road, as your hormones continue to fluctuate and your belly grows, it may not be something you’ll be able to do often.

John and you do, and always have had sex often for as long as you’ve been together. It helps John ease down, calm his nerves and relieve tension. You don’t mind making love to him either, of course. You feel lucky to feel him so close, and to be the only women who feels him that way.

“Close your eyes, Squish,” John whispers a chuckle, a delicate kiss placed to your bare belly, just where your baby rests. His heavier hands gently peel off the fabric of your bottoms, full lips trailing lower, soft kisses pecked to your inner thighs as he nears your heat. “Daddy’s about to do some real nasty things to mommy.”

You’re not sure if its just your hormones, or delicate emotions as of late. Nonetheless, having sex with John has felt…closer since you got pregnant. It truly feels like you’re making the sweetest of love each and every time. He kisses you so sweet, works you so slow, so intimately, so tenderly, it brings tears to your eyes.

Having him inside feels unreal, divine. He only picks up pace nearing climax, his expertise, skill and unmatchable affection never failing to spill you over the edge so well.

As your belly grows bigger and bigger a few months in, going places, and moving is becoming increasingly tough. Grocery trips have become progressively more tiresome; car rides gradually more uncomfortable. John tries his hardest to help, and understands if you snap at him a little too quick or accidentally pick a fight over something minor.

“Can you turn the music down? Please?” You interrupt a serene drive home from the market, voice coaxed with irritation, laced aggravation tinted across all tones. John’s hand rests to your thigh as he drives, his other placed to the thin steering wheel. You’d been complaining about discomfort the entire morning; he felt awful knowing you were in any sort of pain.

“Sorry.” He sighs, hand shifting from your thigh to crank the stereo of his beloved Mustang 69’ down. Passing traffic winds roar outside, the New York buildings passing in towering lengths. John’s palm immedietly rests back to your thigh; smooth, gentle strokes ran across the fabric clad to your lap. His eyes stay focused to the road, yet his hand stays touching you, letting you know he’s there.

That he’ll always be there, no matter how frustrated you get, how intolerable your nagging becomes.

He loves you, and he loves his baby. He’s waited far too long to have this; normalcy, something his, something his own; something created out of love, familiarity. Something he’d lacked for far too long.

“Ugh.” You exhale, after a moment of stretched silence, hand coming up to rub your weary eyes. “I’m being awful, aren’t I?” You whisper, saddened eyes locking to your husband’s street bound orbs. He turns momentarily to lock eyes, a gentle smile your way.

“No, sweetheart.” He assures, grip on your thigh tightening. You groan, rebutting. “No, John. I am. I’m sorry.” You sigh, reaching both your hands down to your lap to engulf his, holding his hand in a soft grip. You rub the top of his palm, relaxing, playing with his sturdier fingers. “I love you. I really do.” Sincerely, your eyes stay focused to his well defined features, the dark beard that rides his cheek.

And to the sound of your guilty voice, John chuckles, securing your hand in his, before brining it up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“I know.”

John has come to all your ultrasound appointments; he wouldn’t miss them for the world. He holds your hand the entire time, signature goofy smile daubed to his smoky features.

The first ultrasound was incredibly emotional, you shed a couple of tears. John and you stare at the screen, a pea sized dot resting in the darkened frame. John’s hand holds yours so tight, so warm, you’d felt as if you could feel him within you. Like he was this significant, big part of you that you would cherish forever. Seeing him smile that day will be a sight you’ll never forget; a mural you’ll never surrender.

Through out your time together, over the timeline of your love, you’ve only seen John this way a handful of times. This happiness was different; held something sole, matchless. This was pure happiness, where nothing else tinted the depths of his thoughts. No insecurities, no doubts, no ghosts of his past. Apart from the day you said yes to marrying him, and the day of your wedding, you don’t remember John ever being this unconditionally, purely, happy.

You both sit on the couch later that night, John’s arms holding you close as your head lays to his broad chest, staring, smiling at the picture of your dream; the one that would conquer your entire hearts when they’d come.

John keeps a copy of the ultrasound picture in his wallet. He takes a moment to look at it, to remember what he has any time he needs a pick me up throughout the day.

John takes amazing care of you, your needs always before his. He monitors your eating and drinking, to make sure you and the baby are healthy. He gives you your supplements; you often forget the times throughout the day you need to take them.

Speaking of food…

Midnight cravings have become a usual for you. Normally, you suffice for waddling down to the kitchen, sure not to disturb your snoozing husband.

Gently removing his arm from your waist, you always smile a gentle, loving glaze his way. John sleeping is a sight you’ve come to adore over the years.

John at peace; is a sight you’ve come to adore. He deserves rest, he deserves peace.

Although, its tough not to wake John. More often than not, he’ll find you in the kitchen in the AM dark, smiling a cheeky grin as you devour left over dinner, or a questionable choice of midnight snack.

He’ll come up behind you, wrapping his arms snoozily around your mid, hands placed to your tummy. With a gentle kiss to the back of your head and his warm chest pressed to your back, his sleep thick, honey seared voice rasps a tender baritone in your neck.

“Hungry?” He’ll chuckle, quiet and warm. You only nod, lacing your hand to his that rests on your belly.

Of course, there have been rare nights where you crave something that isn’t in the fridge. John never turns you down, however. No matter how tired, how sleepy he is, he ventures to your local 24-hour market, or gas station in search of whatever you’d yearned.

“Should I come with you?” You bite your lip, pulling the comforter of your shared bed higher up your chest as you sit up. “I’m sorry I’m making you go out.” You frown, insecure. “But I just can’t stop thinking about how I just need a candy bar right now.”

John’s brown leather jacket shrugs onto his shoulders, and his lips smile your way, picking his wallet up off the night stand.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll be quick.” He whispers, a kiss to your forehead before he’s out the door, blinking away sleep dense orbs.

For you, he’d wake a thousand nights. A million slumbers may waste away.

Slowly, you build the nursery for your baby. John works away, painting once crisp white walls into something more pastel, something that would welcome your child with joyful colour.

John has definitely become more talkative over the pregnancy.

He never misses out on a chance to kiss your belly, or talk to them.

“I’ll be back soon.” He announces, car keys armed in his sturdy fingers. With a kiss to your lips, he smiles. “I love you, don’t forget it.”

“Hurry back please.” You frown, a light whine coated to your tone. John only nods, slightly dropping to his knee in front of you, a quick, brief kiss placed to your tummy. “Keep mommy company, squish.” He tells your belly, a quiet, barely audible ‘daddy loves you’ Fled into the air, before he’s up, his hold on your hand let go as you walk him to the door, wishing him a wonderful day with a final kiss to his cheek.

You shop for cribs, toys, decorations all together. John looks incredibly handsome building the crib, painting the walls, asking exactly where you wanted everything to be placed. You watch him from your rocking chair in the corner, a hand to your belly as you talk to John the entire time, about anything, and everything.

John is a wonderful listener. Together, you two often talk about your future. A future where you’ll move away somewhere out of town,

Somewhere closer to the water, down the road. Somewhere where John’s ghastly pasts wont haunt him no more; somewhere you’ll grow old together with a white picket fence, and a story.

Your story, that you’ll tell you grandkids someday, when you’re old and gray, slightly slower; but still, hopelessly in love.

John adores talking to the baby. On secluded, rainy evenings, or when the sun sets out the mauve horizon and the trees bid goodnight to cotton clouds, John and you lounge on the couch, a thick, heavy novel equipped in John’s palm as he reads to you, and your tummy.

With his head resting on your lap, you stroke his lengthy coffee mane, fully engaged, lost in his mélange voice; smoky and rich, beautifully saccharine. Your thumbs coax his tired temples; gently scratching his stubble ridden cheek when you please. Every now and then, John’s glowing eyes peer up, glossing over your features.

He looks lovely like this, at ease, immersed in art.

To you, he is the loveliest of art. He’s a story, he’s a piece of Neverland. He’s your love story, and it’s one,

for the ages;

your love is one for the ages.

Sometimes, he’ll fall asleep this way, head resting in your lap as you stroke his hair. Him and the baby rest together, so close to you.

This was what it meant to have true, wholesome, pure, purpose. To have security, to have something truly, only, yours.

They were yours.

Pregnancy would be tough. It would be a journey, things would change, you would change. But you weren’t scared, for a single moment.

Because you knew, that you had your dream, your mountain of a man beside you, holding your hand,

Each step,

Of the way.

And you knew, you knew well. That the day your baby comes, they will have the most amazing, wonderful father who loves them, and their mommy to the ends of the world, and back.

You’d felt love before, you’d had everything before.

But with this, with what you’ve made, with John; it falls incomparable.

He’s the love that made all the others,

Irrelevant.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

#john wick x reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfiction #john wick x you

[sepublic]

Luz’s Online Experience?

           Talking a lot with @sterling-jay over the subject and discussing this; I noticed that Luz can be particularly persuasive and a powerful debater, specifically at the end of The First Day where she mercilessly gives Bump a peace of her mind until he finally concedes her genuine point. Coupled with her mentioning “Jerks online who want to debate” as one of her primary fears, and… I have to wonder if she honed her argumentative, debating skills from having to deal with those kinds of people as a kid, usually in online forums that she’d go to talk about her hyperfixation with other like-minded kids; Especially since the internet tends to be a place of solace for neurodivergent kids who can’t find others like them in their area.

           I’d see Luz as being SO passionate and into her argument as she brings up a bunch of brilliant points, and then she just gets shut down by a cruel remark (like some internet edgelord calling her “nerd”) and it HURTS so much, because Luz invested so much energy and effort, and yet clearly others don’t feel the same, despite apparently inviting her into discussion. Luz really seems like the type of kid who practiced her arguments and speech and really deliberately stewed over them during class and meals, getting distracted as she thought of the perfect rebuttal, usually within the shower; Because for someone like her, she just CAN’T let it go, because her hyperfixation is being trashed and she has to defend this, etc.

           And I think Luz was the kind of kid who easily fell for the kind of taunts and trolling that older people online would do, targeting neurodivergent kids who take things at face-value and are too literal and innocent to realize what’s up. I can imagine Luz getting into flame wars online, because some trolls deliberately aggravate Luz by trashing on her interests and saying dumb things, forcing Luz to go on the defensive as they mercilessly criticize what she likes in order to ruin the fun for her- And eventually Luz realized those people weren’t actually interested in debating her, just making Luz second-guess and doubt herself. So she learned not to bother engaging with those people and just shut them out- Hence why she defeats her fear by recognizing such people as not coming from a place of intellectual honesty, that they aren’t worth her time trying to convince because of this.

           That’s why it’s one of her primary fears, “Jerks online who want to debate”, because there’s always that one person on an internet forum who has to be “Um, actually” and deliberately try to ruin Luz’s fun and disprove her headcanons, all while acting so much smarter than Luz, all condescending and pretentious; Probably defaulting to that “Why are you so EMOTIONAL/triggered” response that’s frustrating and invalidating to Luz. And you know someone with a good heart like hers would NOT stand for that kind of talk on principle; And as the daughter of a nurse, she’d go into a spiel about how triggers are an actual medical term, only for Luz to be accused of “taking things too seriously” or “ruining jokes”.

          This kind of frustrating, constantly-being-egged-on harassment from others online- It could’ve really soured Luz’s experiences, making her feel even more lonely and unsupported… And it could’ve led to Luz explaining that it’s not worth one’s time trying to engage into argument and conflict, which she explains to King at the beginning of Once Upon a Swap- She’s been there, Luz knows how it feels, and she knows that it never ends well and is just playing into the aggressor’s game. And when Boscha bullies and harasses Willow during Wing it like Witches, it strikes a particular nerve with Luz, causing her to challenge Boscha; And for a less drastic example, this kind of unpleasant experience influences Luz to challenge Amity at the Covention, for King’s honor.

           It’s because Luz IS curious and genuinely thoughtful and willing to hear others out in a meaningfully critical sort of way, so she just HATES people who act like that, who come from a position of bad faith and aren’t interested in actually evaluating arguments. So she’s so passionately against the type of ableist trolls who make fun of people for being so invested into their hobbies and interests (because that’s “not a personality”). And it just culminates in Luz being somewhat cautious whenever people approach her online or in real life, because she’s not sure if they’re being genuine or not, if they’ll ever take her seriously, so what’s the point in being able to argue on her and others’ behalf?

          For a while, Luz could’ve been the kind of kid who has a brilliant argument, but it’s just… SO HARD for her emotions to not get riled up, to be made fun of as her voice wavers and her eyes water- Which means getting dismissed as unreasonable, ‘too emotional’, all that sorts of stuff. And so despite setting this situation up, Luz’s bullies manage to make it look like LUZ is the aggressor, that she’s the one throwing the first punch, when they were deliberately trying to emotionally trigger her into doing so. And as @sterling-jay suggested, that just leads to the word “Trigger” becoming an ACTUAL trigger for Luz, because of the way it was cruelly and inaccurately used against her in the past- And sometimes when people use it like that, it can launch Luz into a whole spiel about how that’s super-disrespectful to people with actual disorders and PTSD, only to be mocked for being so ‘emotional’.

           That means Luz having to learn to regulate her emotions, pretending to not actually care, to be more mature… Before she realizes that no, that’s also playing by their game, who cares what those trolls think? So Luz just blocks them out, ignores them, and continues to be who she is unapologetically, blocking anyone who tries to intrude on her fun without remorse. But what happened still happened, so Luz has a bunch of clever debating skills and rhetoric left over from those days when jerks online would drag her into flame wars for their own amusement. But on the Boiling Isles, especially Hexside… Luz might find an actual, genuine debate club in the Bard Track or someplace similar.

          She’d have an environment where people DO debate and argue on good faith, from a place of intellectual honesty- A place where people genuinely, critically think and reflect on their own and others’ takes! So Luz has this powerful, persuasive energy and debating skills that she’s built up over the years, but never had a chance to properly utilize in an environment where it would be taken and evaluated seriously; So like a lot of her passion and interests, curiosity and energy- Luz finds the opportunity to indulge and explore it in the Boiling Isles, channeling that skillset and ability into something good and productive… Like convincing a local principal to provide multi-track learning options for students, and not bend a knee to a corrupt system!

          And Luz’s fiery, righteous rage against injustice can come into play during a revolution against Belos’ dictatorship; Because she knows firsthand what it’s like to be frustrated by people who claim to argue on superior, academic merits, but are only really interested in just shutting you and your ideas down… Because no, Luz KNOWS that her and others’ ideas are worth listening to, and hearing out- And it’s just so validating to see people like Eda actually listen to Luz… To actually change their minds, or else explain their own thought processes in earnest, instead of just shutting the girl down because they said so.

          It’s this ability to really critically question things and evaluate if people are coming from a place of good, intellectual faith, that makes Luz ready to challenge all sorts of things, while mentoring and encouraging those who are in a similar spot to her childhood, but didn’t have any support- Until now. That yes, what you say IS valid, and if people can’t be bothered to explain themselves properly and/or take your argument into account- Then you shouldn’t have to listen to them, and at times; Just remove yourself from the situation entirely! Prioritize your own comfort and health, and don’t bother trying to play by the rules established by others who are trying to drag you down onto ‘their level’. Challenge the system, break its rules, and don’t bother vying for some kind of moral approval from others who don’t actually care about that kind of thing; And always remember, your emotions, your anger and grief, ARE valid…!

          ‘Calmness’ doesn’t necessarily indicate objectivity, it can be apathy operating from the comfortable status quo that is being upheld. And don’t fall for the trap of lowering yourself to their playing field, by assuming both sides have a point, because chances are; Both of you are operating from very disparate positions already. What others say may be coming from such bad faith, that they are not entitled to your ‘respect’, nor an actual platform to validate their terrible ideas. And don’t let yourself be blamed for making things ‘more contentious than they need to be’ when you lash out in self-defense; Because a lot of the times, the status quo that’s being disrupted is unjust and NEEDS to be changed, and it’s the one causing conflict by hurting people in the first place.

#the owl house #toh #the owl house luz #luz noceda #toh luz #speculation #meta #angst #ableism tw #bullying tw

[gaeilgeoirgay]

Naimhde

This is also part of Pósadh Eagraithe :The Series and I hope you like it! It’s from Han Solo’s POV when he first realises that 1. Boba’s alive and 2. Boba is married to Din meaning that 3. He can’t shoot Boba :(

Ao3 Link

Naimhde= Enemies

Look, Han Solo was having a good day. Emphasis on was. Ben had slept through the night again so Han got his full recommended hours of rest. Then Leia had had the morning off from the Senate so they had all gone to the park together. Luke was on planet for once with the green frog child so Ben was able to play with him. Leia had told him days ago that they were required to attend a ball that was being hosted to celebrate the Republic getting a treaty with Mandalore so he’d already gone through the seven stages of grief about that.

Now, he’s at said ball and across the room from him, Boba fucking Fett is smirking at him. Han snarls at the look the bastard has on his (apparently very scarred?) face but Leia puts a warning hand on his shoulder. “I know that’s Fett but he’s the leader of the Tatooine crime syndicate now, and rumour has it he’s taken over a couple more of the Hutt Space planets. He’s powerful, Han, and he probably hates us enough. No fighting.” She hisses into his ear.

Of course Boba Fett came out of a fucking sarlacc pit to become a godsdamned crime lord. He shouldn’t have been surprised. And he clearly has some sort of power in Mandalore because Mandalorians aren’t naturally deferential but they seem to treat Fett with an extra bit of respect.

A silver Mandalorian comes over to Fett and says something lowly to him. Fett nods and saunters over to Han and Leia with the other Mando striding ahead of him. “That’s the Mand’alor, their king. No one knows his name or species and he never takes his helmet off in front of non-Mandalorians. He signed the treaty as ‘Mand’alor the Reclaimer’ and his people adore him. He’s rumoured to be absolutely deadly, so once again, Han, I don’t care if he’s coming over with Boba Fett, behave.” Leia whispers and Han suppresses his urge to punt Fett into the nearest star.

Contrary to popular belief, Han is smart enough not to piss off the ruler of a warrior culture that are supposedly the greatest fighters in the galaxy. He got lucky with Fett the first time, he’s not making the man’s whole planet mad at him by fucking with their king.

Their pretty intimidating king, he’s not gonna lie. There’s a veritable armoury on the Mand’alor’s person and Han can see the familiar shape of a lightsaber hilt at his waist. Leia had mentioned something about a ‘Darksaber’ and Han does not want to find out the difference between a Darksaber and a lightsaber firsthand.

The Mand’alor inclines his head in a regal greeting as he halts in front of Leia. “Senator Organa, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person. Luke mentions you often.” He says in a low, smooth voice. Huh. Han is absolutely loyal to Leia but if the Mando king ever offers a threesome…..

Wait, how does Mando know Luke? Leia seems confused too but she hides it well. “The honour is all mine, Your Majesty. I wasn’t aware you were acquainted with my brother though?” She says politely, voicing the question in a much more eloquent manner than Han would’ve.

Mando chuckles and answers her with a smile in his voice. “Cuun ad, Grogu, is one of Luke’s students. He’s the small green one with an affinity for frogs.” He explains and Han raises an eyebrow. Luke had said that Grogu would never grow to be taller than maybe hip height but Mando is of fairly average height for a humanoid species. 5’10 or ’11 maybe.

Leia smiles brightly. “Yes, I do know Grogu. Luke mentioned his father was a Mandalorian. That would be you, then?” She says, relaxing slightly. Talking about children is a safe topic, even when Boba Fett is part of the conversation, and no, Han is not letting that go, he’s a Senator’s trophy husband, he’s mastered the art of polite glaring.

Fett speaks up then, still smirking. “Both of his fathers are Mandalorians. I adopted Grogu when the two of us said the riduurok.” He says, looking directly at Han as his brain freezes in its tracks.

Boba Fett is married? Boba Fett is married to the king of Mandalore? Boba Fett is a father?

None of that computes. Han Solo and Boba Fett are not supposed to have anything in common and Boba Fett is most certainly not supposed to be a regular human being with a spouse and kids and apparently a job, if being a crime lord counts as one. But clearly he is and Han is mad about it. It may be irrational but the bastard froze him in carbonite for three years and he’s gotten away with it. Whenever Han imagined Fett it was as a corpse being digested by a plant monster, not as a successful husband and father. Oh, Han is so mad.

Leia squeezes his hand a little tighter than necessary and Han grits his teeth. No fighting. He can do this. He really doesn’t want to do this. Chandrila’s sun is actually quite hot, he knows Beskar has a high melting point but he reckons it wouldn’t hold up against a star. He could just get in the Falcon, with Fett, and then space him beside the star. Boom, problem solved.

Leia is congratulating Fett and the Mand’alor on their marriage and subsequent child. To be completely honest with himself, Han may or not be considering telling Luke to get Grogu into therapy. Having Boba Fett as a father would definitely fuck a kid up.

He tunes back into the conversation as the Mand’alor answers Leia and immediately wishes he hadn’t. “Yes, children are the most important part of our culture. I adopted Grogu before we got together and I actually only met Boba a little while before Luke began teaching him. Boba always knew Grogu was part of the picture and honestly, the kid loves him. His second vow after the riddurok was a gai bal manda for Grogu.” Mando says, helmet tilted towards Fett. It’s probably the armoured equivalent of a sappy look and Han resists the urge to scowl.

He doesn’t know what a riderock or a gabblemanda is but it’s clearly important to Mandalorians and Fett is smiling broadly at his husband. Ugh.

“Oh, that’s incredibly sweet. How did you two meet?” Leia asks and Han screams internally. “When I first Found Grogu, my tribe took on the Hunter’s Guild so we could escape. I was trying to find more Mandalorians and I came across an areuttise on Tatooine who had Boba’s armour. I helped him take down a krayt dragon that was attacking his village and in exchange, he returned the armour to a mando’ad. Boba tracked me to Tython and said he would help me protect Grogu if I gave him back his armour. We were attacked by Dark Troopers and they took Grogu for Moff Gideon. Boba helped me get Grogu back and once he’d taken over Tatooine, he joined our efforts to reclaim Mandalore.” Mando explains and Leia smiles.

“That sounds romantic. The first time I met Han I threatened him.” Leia says anecdotally and Han shoots her a betrayed look. Fett is so going to use that against him somehow, Han just knows it. Instead, Fett just shakes his head and explains further. “Both of us are sol’karta, ‘aromantic’ in Basic. The Mand’alor’s council were concerned about finding a Rid’alor and I was suggested. I accepted, as the Mand’alor is one of my closest friends. I love him dearly but we’re not in love with each other. We’re best friends raising an adorably mischievous ad’ika.” He says and the Mand’alor nods.

Huh. Han can’t say he’s ever heard of an arranged marriage where both parties are friends from the start. He’s sure that some spouses end up as friends but politically arranged marriages in the Core tend to be loveless affairs. He almost finds himself congratulating them on finding a good balance but then he remembers he would be congratulating Fett. Nope, he’s not doing that.

“Oh really? Luke did mention that Grogu has a habit of disappearing on him.” Leia says and Fett laughs. “Yeah, his Force osik enables him a lot. I never realised how much of parenting was going to be coaxing a grumpy toddler off of a ceiling.��� He jokes and ugh, Han can relate to that and he’s mad about it. Leia says something in response but Han is too busy glaring at Fett to hear her. The bastard is still smirking, plus he’s not even paying attention to Han, like Han is beneath his notice.

“I know you two have a son, right? If you’re ever on Manda’yaim for diplomacy, perhaps they can hang out together. I know when I was a child, I hated being in boring meetings and Grogu would definitely appreciate a friend.” Fett suggests and Han nearly explodes. Boba Fett’s hellspawn child is not going to corrupt Ben!

“Oh, Ben and Grogu met earlier today actually! Luke is on-planet at the moment and he brought Grogu with him when he heard that your people would be here.” Leia says and Mando’s helmet tilts. It probably means something in Mando Armour Language but Han has no clue what. “Is Luke still on Chandrila?” He asks, seeming curious. “Grogu is due to come home to Manda’yaim next week but if Luke is here, then I might ask if we can bring him home now to save Luke the trip.”

Leia smiles and tells Mando where to find Luke. Mando says his goodbyes and leaves, but Fett stays. They seem to have some form of communicating that Han can’t understand because Fett doesn’t seem confused at all by his husband’s departure without him.

Fett rocks back on his heels before levelling Han with a smug grin. “If you ever feel like going into Fett Space, drop by my palace on Tatooine. I love getting visits from old friends.” He says before bowing to Leia and leaving to follow Mando before Han can splutter a rebuttal. Fett Space! Is he serious?

Apparently he is, as the New Republic receives a missive a few days later, announcing Mandalore’s official recognition of the former Hutt territories as under Boba Fett, their Consort’s, unequivocal rule. It means that if the Republic ever aggravates Mandalore, they would essentially be going to war with the majority of the Outer Rim between Fett’s planets, Mandalore’s vassal planets and the seemingly endless planets that have allied themselves with Mandalore instead of the Republic.

Han isn’t too concerned about the political ramifications, seeing as that’s Leia’s remit and he’s mostly retired, but fuck, he’s mad that he can’t even think about dropkicking Fett into a star without inciting a galaxy-wide conflict. And the bastard knows it. Every time he comes to Republic events as either the Mand’alor’s spouse or as the leader of Fett Space, he acts like the perfect model of decorum so Han can’t even argue that he was provoked.

Han is forty-three, he shouldn’t be having aneurysms but every time he sees Fett his brain stops getting the message. The worst part is that Leia has become friends with the Mandalorian king and Ben is fond of the green child, so Han is forced to interact with Fett on a far too regular basis. Forget Fett, Han is considering launching himself into a star.

Sadly, Leia won’t let him. So Han has to put up with Fett for just a while longer. Speaking of, how old is Fett? Can Han get away with measuring coffins yet? Please say the bastard is at least ninety, he was around during the Clone Wars, there can’t be much left in him. Please, Han is going to lose his mind if he has to play nice with Boba Fett again. And again. And again.

(systems away, Boba’s ears go hot and he knows that Solo is plotting his death once more. Grogu coos and Boba looks down to see the womprat chewing on his pendant again. He chuckles and grabs something softer for Grogu to gnaw at. He has more important things to think about than Solo.)

#posadh eagraithe the series #han solo #boba fett #din djarin #leia organa #bobadin #hanleia #aromantic boba fett #aromantic din djarin #ao3 #fanfiction #star wars #the mandalorian