#and was seen at a drag brunch a few months ago

[bryan-cranston-is-hot]

is bryan quoting drag race??? 😭

#bryan cranston #drag race #hear me out #he has done drag in the past #and was seen at a drag brunch a few months ago #it might not be a coincidence #(it probably is but i choose to believe lmao) #guest judge for meth runway when #gif

[mikaelamichelle13]

Who Are You?

All she can remember was that she was chatting happily with Harry, Ron and Ginny when her phone rung. It was an unknown number. She excused herself to take the call, there was something about it that told her that she needed to answer it. However, the words she heard next made her bolt out of Harry’s house leaving behind her friends calling for her and apparated as soon as she could.

Now, she’s running through the crowd in muggle London after apparating in a secluded alley near the hospital, ignoring the faint fuzziness in her head. Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard, it hurt. She could feel the sweat dripping down her back and her breathing became shallow.

She just got them back. Right after the war she looked for them and retrieved their memories but their relationship was not mended immediately. She spent more time with them, brunches every weekend and holidays. She did everything to gain their trust back and it slowly built up again. It’s been ten years but it felt new for her. But now, why did have to happen?

She rushed to the hospital and halted right in front of the receptionist. Panting and with her throat dry she gulped.

“E-excuse me,” she said and the receptionist looked up at her with a bored expression. And it took all her remaining strength not to smack that expression off the woman’s face. Her fingers were gathered in a tight fist, biting her skin on the process.

“Yes?” she drawled and Hermione took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly.

“I am here for Mr. and Mrs. Granger,” she said hurriedly.

“Please proceed to the waiting area near operating room number three, down the hall then right,” she said and Hermione barely mumbled her thanks as she ran through the hall and turned right. Her footing slowed as her vision swam and she swayed a little. Behind the double door was her parents. She stayed rooted in the middle of the corridor waiting. And she did not stop her tears from flowing.

“Miss?” someone asked, putting their hands on her shoulders and she jolted, whipping around to see a woman in white. She had kind dark brown eyes, black hair and there was a friendly smile on her face. She let go of her shoulder and clasped her hands in front of her.

“Y-yes?” she said wiping her tears away, sniffing.

“Would you like a drink? Or something to eat?”

She shook her head in response.

“Well, why don’t we sit down?” she suggested and Hermione agreed, finally feeling tired of standing. They sat on the nearest set of chairs.

The time was ticking and she pulled on the skin around her nails, looking over the doors once in a while. Her palms were getting clammier and her heart was still beating wildly inside her chest. The nurse placed her hand over Hermione’s hands that made her looked up at her.

“They’ll be fine. Two of our best surgeons were in and they were the ones taking care of them right now,” the nurse said, she squeezed her hands reassuringly and all she could do was nod at her then looking back at the doors.

The nurse stayed with her, holding her hands supportively while she stayed watching the doors. The time stretched further before they heard sets of footsteps rushing towards their place.

“Hermione!” she heard them call but she did not turn her attention to them.

“Hermione…” Harry called her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

The nurse patted her hands and stood up, “I’ll go ahead now.”

That’s when Hermione removed her attention from the doors, giving the nurse a small smile, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she muttered quietly and left the group.

Harry replaced the nurse beside her while Ron sat on her left while Ginny sat beside Harry. Harry placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in while Ron rubbed her back but she turned to watch the door again.

They stayed like that for few more moments when the door suddenly opened letting a man wearing a blue surgical gown exit. Hermione abruptly stood up and walked fast to the man.

He pulled the mask off and asked, “Are you a relative of the Grangers?”

“Yes, I am their daughter. How are they?”

He nodded, “We were able to successfully close up an open wound on her right upper arm and remove most debris that was stuck on her. Mrs. Granger is already in a stable condition. we will be moving her to the recovery room….”

“How about my father?”

“Dr. Malraux is still working with him; he was impacted severely.”

Hermione shuddered and her knees weakened but Harry caught her shoulders to keep her from falling. She leaned onto him, sobbing.

“Doctor…?” Harry trailed off and the doctor cleared his throat.

“I am sorry for the lack of my manners; I am Dr. Noah Boris.”

“Where will be the recovery room?”

“I wouldn’t know yet but an attending nurse will inform you.”

Harry nodded and Dr. Boris left them. Harry had to half-drag Hermione to sit on the chairs. Ron and Ginny remained standing while Harry stayed with Hermione, rubbing her arm comfortingly.

Her eyes already dried and her breathing was already steady when a different nurse came to tell them the room number of her mother but she did not want to leave just yet. She wanted to wait for her father.

Ron tried to talk to her but she did not want to talk and even when Ginny offered her a cup of tea, she did not drink it nonetheless, she held on to it, warming her cold hands.

It had been an hour after Dr. Boris left but no one had yet to come out from the operating room. She’s getting more anxious by the minute and the tea got colder, the warmth absorbed entirely by her hands.

Hermione already lost track of time as Harry was replaced by Ginny then Ron and then Harry’s back to her side. She decided to look at her wrist watch and it was already ten minutes past midnight. It had been five hours since she got the phone call and rushed to the hospital.

She stood up and started pacing while Ron started falling asleep while Harry and Ginny watched her carefully.

And by the fifth time she paced back to her left, the door opened and revealed a different man, he still had a blue surgical gown and Hermione rushed to him. Harry followed while Ginny woke up Ron before they followed suit.

“How’s my father?”

He removed his mask and they collectively gasped. It was clear with his sharp facial features, the platinum blond hair peaking from his cap and his grey eyes—there was no denying who was the man standing in front of them.

“Malfoy?!” Ron asked a little too loud for the silent corridor but instead of a sneer the man just furrowed his brows in question.

“I am sorry but I am Dr. Dominique Malraux,” he calmly said.

“Who are you trying to fool, Malfoy?! Huh! What are you doing here?!” Ron asked, charging forward, face redder than his hair and Ginny had to grip his right arm to stop him while Harry observed the man called Dr. Malraux stepped back tentatively, almost ready to flee if Ron got to him.

“Will you shut it!?” Ginny hissed but Ron was fuming, nostrils flaring as he looked straight to the man called Dr. Malraux.

“Again, I am Dr. Malraux not Malfoy.”

“Bull—”

“Ron! That’s not important now,” Hermione cried out, facing Ron. Her face as red as a beet and her fists trembling.

“Getting back to the matter at hand…” Dr. Malraux trailed off getting Hermione’s attention back.

When Hermione turned back to him, he continued, “He had experienced severe head trauma and is still unconscious but we were able to remove the debris of glasses that stuck on his body and fix the open fracture he had on his left leg and left arm. As of 12:20 midnight, his vitals are still not stable so we had to monitor him closely therefore, we decided to put him in ICU.”

“Can I see him now?” Hermione asked, her voice cracking.

“You can see him after we transfer him. His attending nurse will be the one to inform you of more information. I will also give her the list of medicines he needed.”

Harry noticed that this man lacked the cold stare that Malfoy always wore and his emotions were more open compared to Malfoy’s. He was starting to question if the man was really not Malfoy.

“…Dr. Boris will be their attending physician moving forward.”

Hermione nodded again, not trusting her voice at all. Dr. Malraux left them after providing the necessary information and when he’s out of earshot, there was silence among them before Ginny broke it.

“Do you think it was really Malfoy? Because he looked the same but how he talked was…different.”

“I don’t know…” Hermione whispered, slumping on the chair. She did not want to dwell too much about this Malfoy look alike. That’s irrelevant for now. She wanted to see both her parents at the same time but she needed to wait again. She sighed rubbing her face with both hands.

“I haven’t seen him for almost ten years since he was tasked to make amends to us,” Harry said still looking back to where the man went.

“It was him there was no mistaking those sharp features, blond hair and grey eyes,” Ron grumbled.

“But we did not even see him flinch when you called him Malfoy,” Harry said, trying to recall the previous conversation.

“Now that I am trying to remember him. I believe The Daily Prophet mentioned that he was busy managing the Malfoy Estate and that was a month ago…” Ginny said and Harry nodded.

“We need to find out what was his motive pretending to be Dr. Malraux,” Ron mumbled, clenching and unclenching his fists. Harry and Ginny agreed but Hermione remained aloof with the topic besides as he had said he was not attending her parents; it’d be Dr. Boris.

__________

Hermione was approved for a leave from her work in the Ministry and during those days, she stayed with her parents. Her mum woke up after twenty hours after her operation but her father remained unconscious. She would walk into his room and her heart would sink further. And, every time she’d walk out of the room her steps were heavy and her eyes stung.

This day was not different—or so, she thought. Hermione visited him after she had breakfast with her mum. She reached for the doorknob and paused to take a deep breath then exhaled shakily. She turned the knob and pushed the door open. The sound of monitors surrounded her and she stopped midway, feeling suffocated. She gripped the door knob tightly making it rattle a bit. He was lying still, his chest rising and falling steadily, he looked comfortable if not for the beeping monitor that went with his beating heart. The back of her eyes pricked and she tried to blink back her tears. Hermione tried to step further in but her feet were stuck in place. Sometimes, she thought she was not doing her best in being there with her father. She should be with him until he wakes up because her mum cannot be there. She should—

Hermione take a sharp breath in, she turned around and the door slammed shut behind her. Her chest constricted and her tears just flowed down from her eyes. She walked through the hall with quick steps, ignoring the looks she was getting and apologizing whenever she bumped someone on the shoulder. But then when she turned sharp to the left, she clashed roughly on a hard chest and stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet.

A hand shot out that steadied her on her feet, “Whoa there, be careful.”

He let go of her as soon as she was standing straight, she looked up and she stepped backwards instinctively, gasping, “Malfoy…?”

“It’s Malraux actually,” he corrected her softly, scratching the back of his head.

“I—I…”

“It’s fine,” he said dropping his hand from his head and waved it in front of her as if stopping her from completing her sentence. She closed her mouth and took the time to look at him. Hermione already forgot about him because she hadn’t seen him since the operation. He did look so much like Malfoy, hair, eyes and the sharp features of his face but he was a little filled out compared to the Malfoy she had seen before.

“Uhm, here…” he spoke, taking her out of her thoughts. She blinked up at him and he gave her a lopsided smile and the movement of his hand made her look down. He was holding a handkerchief to her.

“I cannot take that.”

“It’s alright.”

She shook her head, “I—I am f…”

“It’s okay not to be fine, you know,” he said taking her hand and putting the handkerchief. He gave her a small smile, “If you need someone else to talk to you can talk to the attending nurse, Dr. Boris or… yeah, me. Only if you want to. Sometimes, talking to someone helped. A lot.”

She nodded, gripping the handkerchief tight, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hermione did keep it in mind and now, she’s here sitting in a vacant waiting area with Dr. Malraux who already abandon the crisps he bought from the vending machine. He let her talk about how she felt whenever she walked into her father’s room. He just sat there, listening. And she did not know why or what made her confide to him so easily—why she trusted him. But she did.

“…. I feel bad. I-I should be there but I cannot bring myself to walk further inside without…”

“It’s not your fault. It’s difficult to see someone you love suffering and you felt helpless,” he cut her off gently.

She nodded her head, agreeing to him, “But I have to try…”

“Yes, but take your time. Do what you have to do but you have to take your time. Little steps. If you have to stay by the door way then be it until you can manage to stay inside.”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a shout.

“Dominique!” Dr. Boris called and both Hermione and Dominique whipped their heads in his direction.

“Good day, Miss Granger,” he greeted with a nod as soon as he reached them, then he turned to Dominique.

“If we’re not going now, we will not be able to make it to the café and get those lemon raspberry tartlets that you are so in love with.”

Dominique abruptly stood up and turned to her, “Uh, Miss Granger we have to go.”

Excitement was evident in his eyes and Hermione found herself smiling at him as she nodded, “Sure go ahead.”

“I’ll see you around,” he said and tugged Boris with him.

“Ah, Dr. Malraux, your crisps!” Hermione called for him, picking up the crisps on the chair next to the one he sat earlier.

“It’s yours!” he exclaimed without looking back but Boris looked back and shook his head with a smile.

Watching him walk away, she recalled their conversation. He was very attentive and understanding. His emotions were open for her to read. Malfoy was never like that though they never talked like that, they cannot even last a minute speaking without insulting each other. Is it possible that this was a different person and not Malfoy—he was really Dominique Malraux?

__________

"Why can’t they grant our request to visit Malfoy?” Ron grumbled as soon as they were out of Robards’ office.

“You heard him, we have no probable cause,” Harry said scratching the back of his head.

“Him playing doctor as Dominique Malraux is enough reason to make it a probable cause,” Ron retorted and Harry nodded. He understood his friend’s sentiment but legally they cannot investigate Malfoy. Legally.

“I’ll see if there’s something we can do about this,” Harry mumbled as they headed back to their office but to their surprise, they saw the person they needed to talk to.

“Oi, Malfoy!” Ron called for him and he stopped in the middle of the hallway.

“Weasley,” he drawled and gave him a terse nod and when he noticed the black-haired man with his usual eyeglasses standing just a few steps behind him, he acknowledged him, “Potter.”

“What are you doing here?” Ron asked, stopping right in front of him and standing tall to meet him eye to eye. Malfoy looked bored as he looked back at Ron.

“If you really must know, Weasley, I am here to get clearance for the artefacts that I am about to import. Is that sufficient enough?”

“Was it from muggle London?” Ron asked, tilting his head on the side. Getting full Auror mode.

Malfoy sighed dramatically as he removed a non-existent lint from his robe and drawled, “No. They are not. They are from Scandinavia.”

“Really, where were you—”

“Weasley, I am not here for you to interrogate me. I am trying to be patient with your questions. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go ahead and do my business here which doesn’t involve you interrogating me,” he said before stepping aside to walk past Ron. Almost bumping his shoulder.

Ron grunted but Harry put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, gripping it tight, to stop him from following Malfoy.

“Ron,” he called his friend and when he turned around, Harry shook his head.

He continued, “Let’s go back to the office. We’ll think about this later.”

Ron reluctantly nodded and they headed back to their office but not without Harry checking the time on his wristwatch.

The work day dragged on and when it was time for their lunch they decided to meet up with Ginny in a café near the Ministry. Ginny was already sitting at one of the tables at the back when they entered the café.

“Hey,” Ron greeted Ginny as he slid on the seat in front of her.

“Hey,” she mumbled in reply.

“Hello, love,” Harry said, leaning in to press a kiss on her temple and she smiled widely. And Ron just watched them with an impassive look, over time he already got used to seeing the two being sweet with each other.

“Hello to you too,” she replied and Harry sat beside her.

“Did you already order anything?” Ron asked, interrupting the couple.

“No, not yet…” Ginny said then paused that made both men looked at her, waiting.

“What?” Ron asked impatiently.

“Have you got the approval to interrogate Malfoy?”

“No, we haven’t,” Ron muttered and his jaw clenched.

“But we saw Malfoy today,” Harry interjected and Ginny looked at him curiously.

“I saw Dr. Malraux today too…” Ginny said and that got Ron’s attention.

“What time?” Harry asked and Ginny’s brows furrowed as she recalled the time.

“Around…10:30.”

“10:30…” Harry mused and Ron looked at him, waiting. “We saw Malfoy around that time too.”

“Shite,” Ginny mumbled to herself, “Maybe they are really two different people?”

“That’s bullshite,” Ron grumbled, immediately dismissing the conclusion.

“Maybe, let’s not conclude first,” Harry said and they both agreed.

“How was Hermione, by the way?” Harry asked Ginny and she sighed.

“She’s not fine at all, her mum was already recovering but… her dad is still unconscious…”

“We have to visit her tomorrow,” Harry said and Ron nodded.

“But can we eat now? I am famished,” Ron said, already looking for a server. Harry and Ginny shared a look then just shrug.

While waiting for their food, Ron and Ginny went on talking about Quidditch but Harry cannot bring himself to join their conversation. He was thinking. If Malfoy was able to show up in the Ministry at the same time Ginny saw Dr. Malraux. Did he have an accomplice? Even he had, Polyjuice potion doesn’t work within the Ministry due to the wards. He cannot accept it as a fact that the two men were different.

__________

In the course of three months, Ron and Harry would pop in the hospital at random times to catch a certain blond guy aside from visiting their friend. And each attempt they find him in different situations. Malraux with a half-opened snicker bar in between his teeth while holding two cups of hot tea. Malraux drinking juice from a small tetra pack, unconsciously biting the straw while reading. Malraux eating lemon raspberry tartlets takeaway with Dr. Boris in the cafeteria. Malraux doing rounds. walking around with a mobile on his ear, talking (even Ron cannot believe his eyes). Malraux story-telling with Hermione in the paediatric ward for cancer patients. Malraux even gave Hermione a gift for her birthday (what was it, they don’t know. Will they ask Hermione and risk that she’d know that they spied at Malraux and saw the exchange? No. Almost but no.) And while these happened, one of them would find Malfoy in Diagon Alley, Leaky Cauldron or the Ministry at the same time.

“This is driving me insane. It cannot be different people!” Ron grumbled but Hermione just sighed.

“People can have doppelgangers, you know,” Hermione mumbled nonchalantly. She was getting tired of listening to her friends complain about Malfoy and Malraux or Malfoy/Malraux. It’s not her priority right now, she needs to rearrange her schedule to visit her father and she knew for sure she had a lot of work to catch up on when she got back to work. Besides, if Malfoy was playing as a muggle doctor, she did not care as long as he didn’t cause any harm. And in the duration that she’d been in the hospital with her parents, he didn’t.

“Doppel—what?”

“Doppelgangers, people who looked alike—twins from different parents. Maybe who we are seeing was Malfoy’s doppelganger,” Hermione explained as she folded her mother’s clothes and packing them.

“I don’t know, Mione but I don’t think he’s just a doppelganger,” Harry said, scratching the back of his head.

“If this Malfoy was really Dr. Malraux, the man already apologized to you lot, he was given the appropriate punishment for his actions and it had been ten years. If he chose to live as a different person in our world, don’t you think he deserved at least that kind of choice?” Hermione’s mother cut in as she stepped out of the loo, now wearing a knitted brown jumper, jeans and a pair of black flats. Almost all her wounds were already healed, most of her bruises had faded but her right upper arm was still bandaged. She placed her folded hospital gown on the bed.

“We just find it… odd,” Harry said.

“He was never a fan of the muggle world,” Ron spat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“People are capable of change, dear,” she said gently.

“Maybe but—” Ron’s sentence was cut off with a knock then the door opened and a small boy with thinning black hair and big light green eyes peered in.

“Miss Her-may-ni?” he mumbled, walking in the room dragging his dextrose stand with him.

“Oh. Hi, Cory…” Hermione greeted, meeting the boy halfway and squatting down to his height, “Are you alone?”

He nodded then looked straight into her eyes, “You’re leaving?”

Hermione felt a lump lodge in her throat so she just nodded.

“Oh, no more story time with you?” he asked, pouting and that broke Hermione’s heart. Dr. Malraux once introduced her to the kids and watched him tell them stories and since then she spent her free time story-telling with the kids and they became close to her, especially Cory.

Hermione cleared her throat, “I-I…”

She was not able to continue her sentence because there was another knock on the door and because she did not know what she can say to him. After this, she wouldn’t be able to stay in the hospital longer than the visiting hours.

The door opened and a certain blond man poked his head in, Harry and Ron became alert instinctively but if the blond noticed it, he did not show it.

“Hey, sorry, did you see….,” he stopped when he saw the boy who ignored the knock on the door earlier. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, dear,” Hermione’s mum replied and he walked further in, closing the door behind him carefully.

“Cory?” he called and the kid turned to him, his eyes watery now.

He kneeled in front of him, “Hey, Cory, you’re here to say goodbye?”

“Not really… but maybe now,” he said quietly, his voice quivering. Dominique nodded.

“Alright. Say goodbye now and I’ll bring you back to your room,” Dominique said, rubbing the kid’s left arm. Cory then turned back around to Hermione and he let go of his arm.

“Bye-bye Miss Her-may-ni,” he said and Hermione smiled at him.

“Goodbye too, Cory. I will visit you if I have time, would that be fine?”

“Yes!” he replied with a smile and a sniffle. He closed the distance between the two of them and encircled her small arms around her neck and gently she wrapped her arms around his small body.

“I will miss you,” he whispered.

“I’ll miss you too,” Hermione replied, her eyes stung. Then Cory let go and looked back at Dominique.

“You ready to go?” he asked him and Cory nodded. Hermione let him go then.

“I am tired though,” he said and Dominique stood up then walked to Cory. He bent down and picked him up with one arm then took the dextrose stand with the other hand. Cory instinctively rested his head on the crook of Dominique’s neck. Hermione then stood up, watching them.

He looked straight to Hermione and mouthed a thank you. She nodded in response before he left the room.

“It will be difficult to believe that he is Malfoy,” Hermione said to no one in particular and went back to finish packing her mum’s things.

Before Hermione and her mum left the hospital, they visited her dad. It took two weeks for her to be able to walk further into her dad’s room and even stay beside him. All those times, Dr. Malraux was there if she needed to talk about her attempts each day. Now, she was saying goodbye and promised to visit him as often as possible.

As they exit the hospital, Harry caught Dr. Boris asking Dominique if he’s heading home already and the blond doctor told him that his shift would end by ten in the evening. By then, Harry already formulated a plan.

__________

Hermione was back at work and barely took any breaks to catch up with her workload that she was not able to work during the time she was in muggle London. When the clock struck five in the afternoon, her secretary had to knock on her door so she’d stop working for the day. She started fixing her things and prepared to visit her father before she went home. She made her way to the back of the Leaky Cauldron and as soon as she walked in the Leaky Cauldron, she saw a certain blond sitting with Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott. It was the first time that she saw the trio in Leaky since they rarely went out of public since they finished their eighth year.

“Hermione?” a melodic voice reached her ears and she turned around to be greeted by a smiling Luna Lovegood.

“Luna, hi.”

“Hello, do you want to join us?” she asked and Hermione tried to discreetly look around but she did not recognize any other mutual friends they had.

“I- I cannot, I am visiting my dad.”

“Oh, yes. Of course, next time then. I hope your father will recover very soon.”

“Thanks, Luna.”

“Here,” Luna took her hand and put something on the palm of her hand, “To keep the Nargles away.”

Luna let go of her hand and Hermione saw a butterbeer cork bracelet, “Oh, thanks.”

“You’re welcome! Take care, Hermione.”

“You too,” she replied looking up at the smiling blonde.

Hermione watched Luna walk away from her and her brows furrowed as she realized that Luna was heading to the table Nott, Zabini and Malfoy. She slid on the seat next to Nott who gave her a peck on the top of her head while she waved and greeted Malfoy and Zabini. Zabini smiling at the Ravenclaw was not much of a surprise but Malfoy actually smiling at her and was civil with Luna was the surprise. She filed that information for later and headed out of the Leaky Cauldron.

Once she was out to muggle London, Hermione took a taxi to the hospital. And once she arrived in the hospital, there was quite a commotion and she watched the doctors rushed to the emergency room. She was already near the ICU when she noticed Dr. Malraux running from the other hall zipping past her and in a second, she was able to see his face. His lips were set in a grim line, furrowed brows and focused eyebrows—just like Malfoy.

However, Malfoy was in Leaky Cauldron right this time. If there’s a possibility that they are the same person, how did he make it look like that he was in two different places at the same time? Polyjuice? But it won’t survive the wards in the Ministry. She needed to look into this now.

__________

“This cloak is too small for us already,” Ron complained when Harry accidentally elbowed him.

“No, you just cannot stop moving!” Harry whisper-shout back at him.

They were currently in the hospital watching a certain Dr. Malraux. When Harry shared with Ron what he had in mind, he did not hesitate and agreed to all of it. So, here they were, following the man until he’d finally go home.

“Luna told me earlier that she’s meeting with Nott, Zabini and Malfoy so this is—what—the tenth time that we knew Malfoy was out and about in the Wizarding world while this Malraux is here,” Harry relayed to his friend.

“Well, I still cannot believe that he’s not Malfoy. For all we know, he’s using dark magic to do this.”

“I don’t sense dark magic.”

“There must be something!” Ron grumbled a bit loud and Harry had to swat his shoulder before shushing him.

They’ve witnessed the determined face of Malraux and that cemented Ron’s belief that he was Malfoy—like it was not established yet that they both looked alike—or just one person. When Malraux finished attending the patients brought in the emergency room, he went straight to the nearest vending machine. He inserted a note then pressed the button for his favourite crisps—but then it got stuck and his face fell into a pout. Then out of nowhere (they were just not paying much attention to anything else), Hermione stepped to his side.

“What happened?”

Malraux looked up then returned his gaze to the machine before pointing at his stuck snack, “It’s stuck and I don’t want to kick it like what Noah does.”

“Noah?”

“Dr. Boris…” he replied with a smile.

“Oh yes. Well, we can ask someone from the maintenance to open it…”

“Or maybe I can reach for it,” he cut in and he dropped on his knees. The side of his face and the palm of his right hand were flat on the machine while he leaned sideways, his left hand reaching inside of the machine.

“We could really call the maintenance.”

“N-no, they are working… I don’t want to disturb them just for this…” he said reaching further in, the tips of his finger grazing the edge of the snack.

Harry and Ron quietly watched the interaction, waiting for any sign of magic that he’d cast so the snack would fall.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, use magic!” Ron said through gritted teeth while Harry ignored him and just kept watching, he wanted to see if this man would endure not using magic.

Hermione was watching him with an amused look on her face, she covered her mouth as she smiled broadly behind it. When he finally reached the snack and pulled it out of the machine, he got out of balance and fell flat on the floor. He grunted and his free hand automatically found its way on the back of his head. Hermione gasped and kneeled.

“Are you okay?”

“I…am fine…. I am not getting snacks here again.”

“You always say that,” Hermione commented and he chuckled.

“Dominique, what on earth are you doing on the floor?” a different female voice echoed and they all snapped their head in the direction of the voice (Ron and Harry included).

“Good evening, mum,” Dominique said, lifting himself while Hermione stood up.

“Good evening,” she said and tilted her head to the side so she’ll be able to look at Hermione.

“Oh, this is Miss Hermione Granger,” he stepped aside, gesturing at her as he introduced her.

“Hello, Miss Granger, I am Mrs. Adélie Malraux,” she said extending her hand and Hermione took it. Mrs. Malraux shook her hand delicately. She has long brown hair, light brown skin, a slender body and delicate fingers.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Malraux.”

“Please, call me Adie and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh sure, please call me Hermione then,” she replied and they let go of each other’s hands then Adie turned to Dominique with an arched brow.

“I was on the floor because I fell on my back after getting this,” he explained, waving the pack of crisps.

She sighed with a single shake of her head, “Fine. Anyway, I am here to tell you that we had to move our dinner since your father was stuck in Japan. He won’t be here until tomorrow.”

“What happened?”

“Business happened, they wanted to talk more.”

“Oh. Alright, but you could have just messaged me or call me.”

“Well, I was already out shopping with the twins when he called,” she explained and Dominique nodded in understanding. Hermione cannot help herself from observing the two much like what her two friends were doing.

“The twins? Where are they now?”

“Knocked out. Trisha is with them in the car.”

“Oh, I’ll visit this weekend if I can. I miss my brother and sister,” he said and Adie nodded.

Brother and sister? As far as they knew Malfoy was an only child, they filed that information away for later.

“Anyhow, I’ll go now. Take care, dear,” she said with a smile and Dominique kissed her cheek.

“And Hermione, it would be nice to have dinner with you anytime soon,” she said with a glint in her eyes. Hermione cannot pinpoint what it was really when Malraux put his hands on Adie’s shoulders and turned her gently.

“Alright, Mum. Too much, go home. Bye, take care.”

She just chuckled and waved goodbye to her son and Hermione before walking away.

“I am sorry about that,” he said, turning to Hermione and she noticed the pink blush on his cheeks.

“Oh, it’s fine…. I guess,” she said with a small smile while he partly bit his lip and nodded.

“I-I…”

He was cut off with the tannoy calling his attention, he sighed and took her hand and placed the snack on her hand, “Here.”

She looked at him, confused. The tannoy repeated their call for him and he shrugged at her, “I cannot eat it now. Enjoy though.”

He smiled before he turned and sprinted through the hall almost bumping Ron and Harry. Hermione’s mouth opened and closed, she cannot think of anything to say. Then, she scoffed to herself and her lips tugged up in a smile.

Ron was momentarily planted in his place as he watched Hermione smile before Harry yanked him into motion and they followed the man again.

They were hungry and tired, following Dr. Malraux around until his end of shift, which they did not expect to be midnight. He was more exhausted than both of them combined. They watched him move from one operating room to another then to the emergency room again like the man never stopped moving and if he did, he just drank water. They hadn’t seen him eat anything yet.

Harry and Ron managed to get inside his car when Dr. Boris came and chatted with Dr. Malraux. While driving they observed everything inside if there were any signs of magical items or if his appearance would change but they had arrived at his residence without any of those. They noticed that he lived in a townhouse within a subdivision but there was not feeling of any wards within the area of the house. Right after he parked the car, they subtly moved out of the car while Dr. Malraux walked towards the door. They hastily followed him in his house.

Instead of the dark, foreboding and cold place that they had expected, they were welcomed with a warm, well-lit and homy feeling when Dr. Malraux flipped the switch to the lights. He prepared his late dinner just like a muggle should, he ate dinner in his living room with a television on—and seemed to know how to use muggle contraptions. Right after he ate, he washed his dishes just like Hermione and Harry did—the muggle way. They were about to follow him again and when he started to strip his scrubs, Harry told Ron that Malfoy had scars from the Sectumsempra that he cast to him back in the sixth year but when he entered the shower before he pulled off his undershirt. They looked at each other and shook their heads then apparated out of the house easily.

__________

Hermione found herself talking with Dominique every time she visited her father in the ICU. He was recovering, there were few minimal movements of his fingers that Dominique and Dr. Boris assured her were good signs that he’ll wake up soon.

Then, one day, Dr. Boris decided to not join Dominique in the café they frequented, instead, he insisted that Hermione can take his place before practically sprinting away from the two of them. He left them standing awkwardly side by side.

“Twat,” Dominique whispered, glaring at the back of his friend. However, Hermione heard him and she watched how he glared at the man. It reminded her of Malfoy. What if he was really Malfoy? What if not? What is it for her?

He sighed, scratching his temple and put his hand down before turning to her and she composed herself quickly, not wanting to be caught watching, “If you’re not comfortable, you don’t have to go with me.”

“It’s fine, I am quite intrigued with this café since I saw you so excited about their lemon raspberry tartlets.”

“I just hope they still have some, they sold out pretty fast.”

“I hope so.”

“Let’s go then,” he said and she nodded, they walked side by side as they exit the hospital. He shrugged off his white coat and slung it over his left arm. Hermione enjoyed the air and the noise of the bustling street that contrasted from the hospitals surrounding.

Their walk towards the café was quiet but not awkward—it felt strangely comfortable for Hermione. Dominque stopped in a quaint café that was decorated with different potted flowers and when she looked up, she saw the name of the café, Busy Bean Café. There were only a few people inside and then Dominique smiled.

“They still have the tartlets,” he said then he opened the door for her and she smiled as she walked in before him.

“Good evening, Dr. Malraux!” a young man greeted with a wide smile as soon as Dominque walked in.

“Good evening, Jay. You know why I am here but please double it, I have company,” he said and that was the time Jay noticed Hermione and if it is physically possible his smile widened further.

“Sure, Dr. Malraux, black coffee for you and for the lady?”

“A flat white, please.”

“Sure! We’ll serve it to your table but here are your tartlets,” he said bending down to get tartlets on two small plates.

Hermione was already pulling out her wallet to pay for her order when Dominique beat her to it.

“Oh, I can pay for my order…”

“My treat, Miss Granger. Let’s say a thank you for accompanying me.”

“Here are your tartlets, Dr. Malraux,” Jay said handing Dominique plates of tartlets.

“Thanks, Jay,” he replied, taking the two plates.

He led them to the table at the back near the windows. Dominique set the plates on the table and pulled the chair for her. She thanked him before sitting and he sat across her. She looked down at the lemon raspberry tartlets in front of her and she cannot help but admire how it looks, the top of the tartlets was covered with delectable raspberries. She took one in her hand and split it into two, the crust crumbled a little then she set down the other half and took a bite of the other half. She moaned quietly as the clash of sweetness and sour taste hit her mouth.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Dominique asked and she looked up at him.

He was smiling genuinely and she nodded, unable to speak yet. He started to eat his share of the tartlets and she watched as he smiled fondly as he chewed. If he was Malfoy, this would be an extraordinary scene before her. He was smiling genuinely and she had never seen him smile that way since the end of the war.

“Your drinks,” Jay came to their table and served their drink, halting their current discussion about how his brother and sister made a ruckus during one of their family trips.

“Thanks, Jay,” he said and Jay smiled at him then nodded before leaving.

“So where were we?”

“You were telling me about the prank Cyrille and Corinne did,” she reminded him and he smiled again.

“Ah yes, they hid in the attic and no one knew how they were able to get up there. We looked for them for nearly twenty-four hours! My dad was getting annoyed while my mum was getting exhausted and worried sick!”

“And, how did you find them?” she asked and she saw him double-take, his eyes widened then he averted his eyes from her then shook his head before looking back at her then smiled at her again as nothing happened.

“I brought out their favourite dessert and it turned out that they ran out of food so when I went around shouting about their favourite, they decided to go out,” he said and took a long sip of his coffee.

Hermione smiled at him pretending that she did not notice how he acted earlier. There must be something, an almost slip up?

“What was their favourite dessert?”

“Oh, chocolate mousse brownies,” he said and Hermione’s inner dentist cringed.

He laughed, it seemed that she physically cringed, “Don’t worry, mum made sure their intake of that dessert won’t rot their teeth.”

“Thank goodness for that,” she said. Dominique chuckled and she cannot help but chuckle too.

They stayed for a while in the café until they finished their drinks. Dominique stayed with her as she waited for a taxi and at that time, she learned that he might go home not later than midnight again since he had to take care of two more operations. When they were able to flag down a taxi, Dominique opened the car door for her in instinct and Hermione thanked him as she slid in the taxi.

“Take care, Miss Granger.”

“You too,” she said and he smiled before closing the door. The taxi drove off and Hermione was unaware of how the man stood on the spot and watched the taxi leave until it was engulfed in the traffic before he walked back to the hospital.

__________

Hermione was busily re-arranging her files and signing necessary papers when a knock disturbed her. She looked up and a smiling Luna walked in, looking around. She was wearing a cotton blue shirt under a knitted bubble gum coloured cardigan paired with a floral knee-length accordion style skirt, thick rainbow-coloured tights and green peep-toe heeled shoes. But of course, she did not miss her radish earrings and her dark green and blue beaded bracelet.

“Hello, Luna,” she said and Luna’s blue eyes found her then.

“Hi, Hermione. Are you free for lunch?” she asked with a smile and she looked down at her paperwork. Maybe she did need a break.

She looked back up at Luna, “I guess, I need an early lunch.”

Luna clapped and turned halfway, “She agreed!”

Hermione’s brows furrowed in confusion as she waited for whoever was outside her office to pop in.

A man with dark brown tousled hair and light green eyes walked in smiling and wearing a knitted bubble gum coloured jumper that paired Luna’s cardigan with black jeans and dragonhide boots but what caught her attention aside from their matching tops was the bracelet he was wearing—a dark green and blue beaded bracelet.

“Hi, Granger. Thanks for accepting our invitation for lunch.”

“Our invitation?”

“Well, Luna and I is a pair so if she asked you that means it’s Luna and I asked you,” he said with a grin as he put his arm around Luna’s middle from behind.

“I-I…”

“Nope, you’re not backing down now, Granger. You already agreed besides Blaise and a certain impatient friend of ours are also waiting…”

Hermione’s eyes widened when she realized that the certain impatient friend of theirs could mean Malfoy. She cannot think of a way to get out of this now.

“C’mon Granger, don’t think about it too much. We’ll make sure he will not harm you, let’s go now,” Nott urged.

“If something happens to me Nott, I swear to Merlin, I’ll kill you,” she grumbled as she arranged her papers with a quick flick of her wand but the pair just looked at each other before smiling at her.

The pair led her to a newly opened restaurant in Diagon Alley named The Italian Pantry. When they walked in, Hermione felt that she was underdressed with her Ministry robes but looking at Luna, she looked unbothered by how elegant the restaurant looks and then she remembered Theo was matching her as well. The restaurant had warm tones of brown and cream, decorated with expressive paintings and accentuated with indoor plants. The maître d' was an elderly man who smiled warmly at them.

“We’re here for a reservation. Theodore Nott,” he said and the man nodded.

“Two of your company are already inside sir, let me call your server to lead you to your room,” he said and tapped the small call bell.

Instantly, a woman with pony-tailed hair appeared in front of them smiling and wearing a white button-down shirt and black trousers paired with black flats. She led them through a hall of many doors, Hermione cannot help but watch her surroundings once more, anxious if people were looking but it seemed that everyone was minding their own business, no one even arched a brow at how the pair in front of her was dressed.

The woman stopped on the second to the last door on the right and knocked before opening the door. Luna and Theo walked in first.

“You two are late!” A woman exclaimed and despite not seeing this woman for so long, she recognised her so well. Pansy Parkinson.

“Sorry, we fetched someone from the Ministry,” Nott said as he guided Luna to their table and when they saw Hermione, Parkinson gasped.

“Granger, so kind of you to grace us of your presence,” Zabini said, standing up.

“Let’s say I was tricked into saying yes,” Hermione said and after Theo pulled a chair for Luna and let her sit, he pulled a chair for her too. She mumbled a thank you before sitting then Zabini sat back down (a pureblood etiquette for sure). Parkinson and Zabini sat together while Hermione sat on Luna’s left while Nott sat on Luna’s right. Then, there was a vacant seat right in front of her and she just knew who would be sitting there. Strangely, she felt anxious knowing so.

“It’s hardly like that, Hermione,” Luna said smilingly.

“Well, you invited me for lunch and I thought it was just you and me.”

“You did not ask, though,” Luna replied with a shrug and the rest of the group chuckled. Hermione’s face reddened then and she picked up the menu to cover her face.

“Ah, you are a fine Ravenclaw with a streak of Slytherin,” Parkinson said, flipping her, now longer, hair over her shoulder.

“That’s partly my doing,” Nott said smugly.

“Yes, love, it is,” Luna commented and Nott grinned as he looked down at Luna who was already reading the menu.

“Where’s Draco? He’s late,” Parkinson said as she looked down at her wristwatch.

“He’s been busy since you know, he might show up later than usual or just send you a message,” Luna said as she perused the menu. You know? What was Luna talking about? Does she know something that they did not know?

“Right, like he usually does,” Zabini said with a knowing look then turned to Hermione, “Granger, pray tell, why are Potter and Weasley keep close eyes on Draco?”

“I am not sure why Zabini. Is there something to worry about?” she asked and Zabini smiled.

“Nothing really but it irritates me because I see either Potter or Weasley every time Draco and I were out drinking. Draco may have grown patience and tolerance but not me.”

“Zabini…” Luna called his attention with a warning tone and to Hermione’s surprise, Zabini looked at Luna then sat back with a smirk.

“If Potter and Weasley have issues with Draco, they don’t need to spy around him, they just need to ask,” Nott said and Hermione caught his meaningful gaze then he smiled.

Hermione was about to speak when a knock interrupted her, the woman earlier opened the door and there, in his all-back attire, was Draco Malfoy. His eyes landed on Hermione and he stood frozen for a heartbeat before he managed to school his composure. His eyes were cold and face expressionless. He cannot be Malraux, can he? Hermione then realized that he did not expect her to be here—it was all his friends’ plan, Luna included.

“Hello, Draco. Come, we’re about to order,” Luna said with a friendly smile.

“Hi, Lulu. You could’ve just ordered while waiting,” he said with a smile at Luna, as he made his way to the vacant seat beside Parkinson. Lulu, when did he start calling Luna that? How long has Luna been hanging out with these Slytherins again?

“Nah, Luna and I were late and I don’t know why these two,” Nott said pointing at Parkinson and Zabini, “haven’t ordered anything yet.”

“Granger,” he drawled with a curt nod before he sat on the chair next to Parkinson. He looked at her with his stoic expression.

“Malfoy,” she replied then he picked up the menu and avoided her eyes.

“We would like to order when you lot are already here. I believe that is what we call social etiquette,” Zabini retorted and Nott just snorted. Parkinson then turned to Malfoy.

“How’s work?”

“Busy, Pansy. Why’d you ask?”

“Because you’re late…”

“I believed that I have established before that most of the time I will be late,” Draco said lifting his narrowed eyes at Parkinson.

“Alright, let’s call our server,” Nott interrupted and he snapped his fingers.

The woman appeared again and they gave their orders to her. When she left, Zabini and Nott started talking about their Apothecary business expansion that occasionally Malfoy comments with while Luna and Parkinson spoke about Luna’s discovery of new creatures while Parkinson tried to insert fashion ideas for her new line. They even tried to include Hermione who got stuck with one-word replies while she subtly watched Malfoy. He looked uneasy and strangely looking down his lap under the table once in a while.

Then, he finally caught her gaze and he gave her a bored look, “Stop looking, Granger. I know I look good but stop.”

Hermione’s eyes widened but quickly her brows furrowed, “I-I wasn’t looking!” she spluttered, feeling the heat crept from her neck up to her jaw.

“You are and you know it so stop,” he drawled.

“Don’t be full of yourself, it’s not always about you.”

“Sure, whatever you believe but really, you don’t have to deny anything.”

“I was not looking!”

He nodded, “Fine.”

Hermione caught Zabini listening and she avoided looking at him, instead tried to join more in Luna’s conversation with Parkinson.

The conversation mellowed down when the food was served however, as much as she wanted to stop, her curiosity got the better of her and as subtle as she can manage, she watched Malfoy looked down now and then through her peripheral. Hermione’s curiosity was beginning to get worse. She waited until their lunch was over, she can just come up with an excuse if anyone would ask why she was late coming back from her lunch. She needed to know what was he anxious about because something’s telling her that it answers the niggling question in her mind that she had pushed back long ago.

“See you this Friday?” Zabini asked Malfoy but Malfoy shook his head.

“We need to move it on Saturday.”

“That’s better, I can join you!” Nott chimed in.

“Luna, we should extend our girls’ night out to Saturday then,” Parkinson said then looked at Hermione, “You should join us, Granger.”

“Oh, I’ll think about it.”

“It will be fun Hermione; you can bring Ginny.”

“I am not sure about that Lulu,” Parkinson butted in but Luna smiled at her.

“You’ll be fine, Pansy,” Luna reassured, “I am sure Ginny and you will get along. Not immediately but eventually.”

“Alright, Friday to Saturday then, in my flat.”

“Wait, what are you saying extending girls’ night out?! You cannot get Luna away from me for an extended time!” Nott cut in and Parkinson looked turned to him with a raised perfectly shaped brow and her arms crossed over her chest.

“I can, Theo. Besides, you’re going with Draco and Blaise on Saturday so it means she’s free on Saturday too.”

“B-But… No, just no!”

“Hermione?” Luna called her and she turned away from the arguing Parkinson and Nott.

“Yes?”

“You’re attracting too many Nargles,” she said waving her hand around Hermione’s head.

“Oh, uhm. I…”

“If you have the answer to your question, what will you do then, Hermione?” she cut in and Hermione’s mouth hung open for a moment.

Luna closed her mouth gently and smiled, “I see, you haven’t figured it out yet. That’s fine. You will, soon.”

“Luna, what….”

Luna turned, sensing that Parkinson pulled out her wand and Nott too, leaving Hermione with her question unasked.

“Love, one day won’t hurt, don’t you think? If you’ll keep that temper, you’ll attract Wrackspurt…” she said, placing a hand on Nott’s forearm and his irritation slowly deflated.

“Fine. If you say so, Love…” Nott conceded, smiling at Luna then glared at Parkinson who was grinning.

“We should take Hermione back to the Ministry,” Luna said.

“Right. Let’s go, Granger,” Nott agreed and Hermione nodded but as she snuck a look where Malfoy was, she saw Malfoy walking away and pocketed something that quite looked familiar to her.

“Where’s Draco going, Blaise?” Parkinson asked, seeing that the blond was now walking away without saying goodbyes.

“Emergency. You’re all busy that he did not want to interrupt,” Zabini said with a shrug.

“Of course, he did that,” Parkinson said with a fleeting look at Hermione that quite confused her.

“Let’s go now, Hermione. You’ll be late,” Luna said.

“Uh, no…uhm, I need to drop by Flourish and Blotts… I reserved a book for pick up,” she lied, wishing that Malfoy haven’t apparated yet.

“She’ll be fine being late from lunch, she may have finished her work already,” Zabini commented. Nott and Luna looked at her expectantly.

“Y-yes, I am almost done for the day when you came in…” she said with a smile.

“Alright, if you say so. We’ll go ahead, Granger,” Nott said and Hermione nodded.

“Bye, Granger,” Parkinson said looping her arms with Zabini’s.

“See you around… soon,” he said with a wink and they walked away opposite to where Malfoy went.

As soon as they turned to the alley, she turned around and followed the path where Malfoy went. She almost sprinted. When she reached the point where Malfoy should have turned to apparate, no one was there. She put her hand on the wall and bent down, catching for her breath.

Shit. He’s already gone.

“So, you are also keeping an eye on me. What does the Golden Trio need from me?” a drawl came from in front of her. She lifted her gaze and saw Malfoy standing there, with arms crossed over his chest. He was not there earlier—of course, disillusionment charm.

She straightened up, jutted her chin and said, “I wasn’t watching you. I won’t deny about Harry and Ron, though.”

“If you’re not watching me then, why are you here?”

“What are you hiding, Malfoy?” she countered, completely ignoring his question.

“I am not hiding anything and if I am hiding anything, don’t you think the Ministry will allow me to walk around?”

Her eyes squinted at him and she internally growled, “Don’t play games with me Malfoy.”

“I am not. Now, if you don’t have anything else for me. I’ll go ahead,” he said dismissively.

Without thinking, Hermione ran to him and latched on his robes before he can disapparate. They re-appeared in a small room and it seemed to be all white but Hermione cannot discern anything. Her head was spinning and she collapsed forward, a pair of hands held her up and she heard a string of profanities but her nose was filled with a familiar expensive cologne. She felt two strong arms across her upper back and at the back of her knees then after floating for a few moments, she felt a cushion beneath her. She now felt her lunch rising and she leaned sideways to throw up.

“Damn it, Granger. You’re supposed to be smart but you do stupid things,” Malfoy mumbled but Hermione just grunted. Her head felt like splitting into two. She heard drawers closing and opening then bottles clinking with each other. Then, she heard footsteps rapidly approaching then a hand supported her head as he lifted her head.

“Drink this,” he said as he tipped a bottle or a vial into her mouth. It was quite bitter but it easily warmed up her body and her headache gradually ease up, her nausea vanishing and her energy returning. It was a potion. Then, she felt something soft, wiping across her mouth and chin before he let her head rest back down.

She carefully sat up and found a glaring Malfoy standing in front of her.

“What were you thinking?!” he asked then he put a hand up and shook his head, “No, you were not thinking at all! You could’ve splinched yourself, Granger!”

“I-I…”

“Don’t explain yourself. Apparate to the Ministry once you can. I have to work,” he said, turning around and closing the curtains around her.

Hermione was about to just leave him when she recognized her surroundings. Sterile white room, overwhelming disinfectant scent and the medically compatible bed. She’s in the hospital. She swung the curtain open and instead of seeing an all-black clothed Malfoy, she saw his naked back flexing as he wore his grey long sleeve undershirt. And she cannot help but notice how his scrub trousers hung dangerously low. His dragonhide boots were now slip-on trainers. Her mouth went dry for a second.

“Can you stop watching? It’s getting creepier. If you’re feeling fine, why don’t you go back to your Ministry work?” he said as he tucked in his undershirt, without turning around.

She snapped and walked around him, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips and subtly, she noticed him pull and tie the strings in his scrub trousers, “First things first, answer me, you said that you are not hiding anything then why are you hiding here in muggle London as Dr. Dominique Malraux? Second, how did you make it possible to look like you are in Muggle London while in Wizarding London at the same time?”

“Can you tone it down, Granger? Stop using the word muggle and wizarding,” he said, his voice low as his eyes fleet to the door and her.

“Why?”

“Why? And you’re supposed to be smart?” he spat and groaning in frustration then continued in a low tone through gritted teeth, “Because except for apparating, I don’t use magic here thus this room is not silenced. You’re just lucky most of the time people here are busy to notice.”

He put on his scrub shirt, messing with his hair that he had no right to look good with but Hermione, mentally shook her head. She cannot be distracted.

“Don’t you dare insult my intelligence. Now, answer me.”

“I have no time for this, Granger. Besides, I don’t owe you any explanation. I do my work in here, I do my work in there, abiding by the law. End of conversation,” he said with a clipped tone.

“But why did you deny being a Malfoy, when Ron called you out?”

He sighed, his breath that was supposed to smell like his lunch, actually smelled like mint, fanned her face, “Tell me, Granger, if you’re here in London and people only knew you as Jane and someone called you Hermione, will you deny it or not?”

“I-I will deny it but I will explain it to them after….”

“Well, news flash, Granger, I don’t need to explain anything to the Golden Trio,” he cut in.

“Okay, fine, you don’t have to explain to us. Whatever. Now, the second question,” she said, tapping her foot on the floor. He finger-combed his hair and walked around her to get his white coat.

“I am not here to do a question and answer with you, Granger. If you want to interrogate me, send me a formal request through the Ministry. I request for you to leave this room now,” he said, as he put on his coat.

Before Hermione can answer back, he was out of the room. She grunted in annoyance. As much as she wanted to go after him, this was not the right place to interrogate him. He was right, a formal interrogation request can be set up. Contented with her concluded action, she concentrated to apparate back but was distracted by the picture frames on the table near her. She then looked around this time, this was supposed to be his office. Like any other office in the hospital, most of it was white except for the mahogany table, black chairs and two potted plants but what was taking her attention were the picture frames.

Surrendering to her curiosity, she walked around the table and went still. Beside his computer, there was a picture of Lucius Malfoy, with shorter hair, on his wedding day with the woman she met that Malfoy called mum, Adélie. Another picture showed a family picture of Lucius, Adie, Draco and the twins, beside it was a picture of Draco and the twins only and then lastly, an old picture of him, Lucius and Narcissa. Stepping back from the table, she concentrated on apparating back to the Ministry.

__________

There were a number of things that Hermione learned when she got back to the Ministry. One, Harry and Ron went as far as following Malfoy to his house in muggle London and they heard an earful from her about privacy.

Two, Draco Lucius Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy were officially acknowledged by the Ministry to live as muggles in London under the names of Dominque Lucien Malraux and Lucien Malraux while they were there as part of their muggle living integration. They were permitted to continue to carry these identities under the supervision of the Ministry.

Three, an interrogation request cannot be permitted if the only reason was suspicion without evidence just like how Harry and Ron’s requests were denied before.

Four, since their last conversation, Malfoy or Malraux was doing a perfect job to avoid her. He stopped getting his favourite snack from the vending machine near the ICU, he would detour if she’s coming his way, and he even cut his conversation with Dr. Boris short when she’s around.

On the other hand, here she was distracted even at work. Hermione had been reading the same line twice from a report that was sent to her earlier that day because when she was supposed to be working her eyes would find a special pen lying on its box then a certain blond would pop into her mind. Her mind will be filled with the recollection of times when they used to talk when he comforted her… when he smiled seeing lemon raspberry tartlets, the way he laughed at Dr. Boris’ jokes or when he acted on some parts of the stories that he was telling to the kids…

Hermione grunted in frustration and lobbed the report down as she cradled her head with her hands.

“Is it bad timing?” Ginny’s voice floated in her office. She lifted her head and her face was now behind her eyes. She peeked through the gaps of her fingers. She let her hands slipped down from her face and placed them on the table.

Hermione smiled, “It’s not, Gin. Come in and have a seat, I could use a break.”

Ginny smiled and closed the door behind her. She then made her way to the chair in front of her desk.

“How are you?”

“I am fine. Mum’s already at home and she was advised to get rest still while Dad… Dad’s still unconscious but his vitals are getting better.”

“But why do I sense that you have an entirely different conundrum when I came here?”

Hermione looked at Ginny straight in the eyes far too long that Ginny’s eyebrow inched up questioningly. She was still having a staring contest with Ginny when she started nibbling her lower lip. Can she really say it to Ginny? Well, it wasn’t a secret—not really, it was in the Ministry records and was accessible. Accessible but was not public knowledge. How much can she tell? What is she supposed to say? Oh, Ginny, Dr. Malraux is Malfoy… and guess what, I miss him since he’d been avoiding when I learned about the truth… I was thinking about him when you walked in. I cannot even work!

“What is it, Hermione?!” Ginny snapped and Hermione snapped from her thoughts. She let her lower lip go and stood up. With a flick of her wand the room was silenced and was secured with privacy wards.

Ginny was flummoxed as she watched Hermione cast those spells and walked around her desk to sit on the other chair in front of her desk so she’d be closer with Ginny. Hermione grabbed both Ginny’s hands and the other witch was still looking confused at her.

“You need to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this…” Ginny’s mouth opened but Hermione added quickly, “even Harry or Ron.”

“What’s going on? Can you please tell me already?”

“Promise me first!” she said, squeezing her hands too hard but Ginny hardly flinched; she just rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I promise…” Ginny finally said but Hermione remained quiet. She groaned, “What? Do we need to do an Unbreakable Vow? Seriously? I am your best friend. Don’t you trust me en—”

“Dr. Malraux is Malfoy,” Hermione cut in and Ginny’s mouth remained open but her eyes blinked too many times.

She shut her mouth and cleared her throat before laughing, “Are you joking? I know Ron was overreacting and Harry was getting dragged with this but…”

Ginny trailed off when she noticed that Hermione was not smiling, her mouth hung agape for a moment then her brows furrowed, “Are you sure, Hermione?”

“Yes, I am sure.”

“H-how? Every time we see him in muggle London, he was here too.”

“I know. I-I haven’t figured out that one yet but Malfoy is Malraux. Harry and Ron…or even I cannot request him for a formal interrogation about this because…”

“Because?”

“Because the Ministry knew about this… this was part of their muggle living integration during the first years after the war. The Ministry agreed that they continue carrying these identities.”

“Why would they agree?”

“I am not sure but based on what I read they had good standings during their time in the program. Well, as we can see Malfoy took up medicine and became a doctor there. Probably those are the reasons.”

“Okay. Uhm…” Ginny paused then tilted her head a little, “Wait, how does this have something to do with…” She paused again, then this time she took hold of Hermione’s hands, “Tell me what happened.”

Hermione inhaled deeply and exhaled quickly, “We kind of had a confrontation when I… I intentionally grab him so I can apparate with him and that’s how I initially knew about the truth…”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No… On the contrary, he gave me a potion that helped me get over my sickness after apparating. Good thing, I was able to bring my entire body when we apparated.”

“Oh, my Merlin, Hermione… what were you thinking?”

Hermione laughed but slowly it died down then she became sombre, “He asked that too…”

“Hermione?” Ginny asked then Hermione grabbed her hands from hers and covered her face with them.

“Oh Gin, h-he was successfully avoiding me ever since that confrontation a-and here I am… supposed to be working but I-I cannot stop thinking about him…. What’s happening to me?!” she mumbled behind her hands.

“Well, based on what you told me, he had been around whenever you needed someone to talk to in the hospital. You clearly miss him.”

“I think so…. No, I do.”

She paused, dropping her hands on her lap and looked at Ginny straight in the eyes.

“I miss him, Gin. I know he was the prat who called me names and bullied me for years but….”

She groaned in frustration, “He was there at the right time… I’ve seen how different he is now. I witnessed it first-hand.”

Ginny took her hands again in hers and squeezed them lightly, “Hermione Jean Granger, get yourself together!”

Hermione sat frozen and Ginny sighed, “Talk to him. You miss him? Tell him.”

“But he’s avoiding me…”

“The Hermione Granger I knew will not take that as an excuse,” Ginny cut her off with a stern voice that sounded like her mother, Molly.

“I think you’re right.”

“Of course, I am right!” Ginny exclaimed and Hermione grinned at her best friend.

“Yes. Thanks, Gin,” Hermione said, pulling Ginny into a hug.

__________

One late afternoon, Hermione and her mother were in the ICU to visit her father. She did not see Malfoy at all when they walked into the hospital which was quite good since she’s still working up the nerves on how to approach him. Hermione was reading her book when she saw her father’s fingers moved. Once. Twice then thrice. And then a grunt with a subtle movement of his hand. She lobbed her book on the bedside table and looked down at him closely.

“Hermione, what’s the matter?”

“H-he just moved his fingers then his hand,” Hermione said and just when she finished her sentence, her father’s head lolled to the side with a grunt. She promptly pressed the nurse call button. In a minute a nurse came in and Hermione’s father was already grunting continuously and slowly turning his head side by side.

“H-he’s waking up!” Hermione cried out.

“I’ll page Dr. Malraux since Dr. Boris is out,” the nurse blurted out and Hermione momentarily froze at his name but quickly snapped out of it when her father grunted again.

“Excuse me, Miss Granger kindly step aside, I need to check his vitals while waiting for Dr. Malraux,” she said and reluctantly, Hermione went to her mother and guided her to the far side of the room, watching.

Dr. Malraux walked in with long strides after two minutes, he immediately approached her father and while the nurse reported her findings Dr. Malraux checked on her father’s sight and other vitals. He started talking to him and held his hands, looking closely for other movements. Her father responded to Dr. Malraux with a grunt every time he asked a question.

When her father got tired and was sleeping again, Dr. Malraux asked Hermione and her mother to talk to them outside of the room.

“I can confidently say that he’s back to us however, it will take time for him to recover his motor skills. If his vitals remain stable within this week then we can move him out of ICU already. And I’ll assign therapists to help him. Now, I don’t want you to get your hopes up but please don’t expect that he will come out as nothing happened to him. Almost four months in a coma may have resulted in permanent damage that we’ll soon find out,” he said, all the while looking at Hermione and her mother with a professional gaze.

They both nodded in agreement, Hermione’s mother then spoke, “We understand that. We are just thankful that he’s awake now.”

“Thank you for understanding. I’ll leave you two, now,” he said and he turned his heels then walked away.

Hermione decided that she’d stay for the night for her father but brought her mother back to her flat beforehand so she could rest better. She was walking towards the hospital from a hidden alley where she apparated when she noticed a head of blond hair that will stand out anywhere in a crowded place like the café where he sat right now at the back near the windows—the same place where they sat. Her heart started hammering in her chest. She clenched her fists and walked straight to the café, luckily, his back was facing the entrance of the café. When Hermione reached the counter, Jay grinned at her.

“Miss Granger! What can I get for you today?”

“Do you still have the lemon raspberry tartlets?”

“Oh…. We just sold the last ones. Dr. Malraux was looking for them too but he got in a second too late.”

Hermione bit her lip and Jay looked at her with concern then a woman walked out from the back and witnessed the exchange.

“What’s happening here?” she asked authoritatively that made them both jolt.

“Uh… it’s just I told her that there are no lemon raspberry tartlets anymore,” Jay said and the woman looked at Hermione up and down then landed on her face like she was scrutinizing her. She let go of her lip and tentatively gave a small smile that was not returned at all.

“Stay there, order something to drink while waiting,” she said and Hermione nodded but she was confused.

Once the woman was out of earshot, she turned to Jay, “Who was that?”

“Aunt Florrie, she’s the one baking those lemon raspberry tartlets. Anyway, anything else I can get for you?”

“A latte in a takeaway cup, please,” she said and gazed sideways to see if Malfoy was still there. He is but she doesn’t have much time, he might go back anytime soon.

“Here,” the woman came back that made Hermione turn her attention back to the counter. There was a plate with two lemon raspberry tartlets.

“Oh, thank you.”

“I hope that will help you. It’s on me so don’t pay it.”

“B-but…”

The woman walked away, not bothering to hear Hermione.

“Here’s your latte,” Jay said and when Hermione was about to pay, he also insisted that it’s on him too.

“That’s bad for business…” Hermione argued.

“Nope. Just go there, he might leave anytime soon.”

She felt her neck and face flushed but Jay just gave him his most charming smile then muttered, “Go.”

“Thanks,” Hermione mumbled, then picked up her orders.

Each stride she took was purposeful and as the distance between them shortened her heart was beating faster and faster. Few strides behind him, she inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. She took measured steps towards him now and made sure she stopped in front of him, he whipped his head in her direction from the window on his right. She put down the plate of two lemon raspberry tartlets and he stared down at them.

“A peace offering,” she said, relieved that her voice wasn’t shaky with the way her heart was beating.

“More like bribery, I guess,” he said, eyes still on the plate but she can notice how the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

“I don’t bribe…not always,” she paused then cleared her throat, “May I take a seat?”

“Yes, only because you gave me these,” he said, picking one of the tartlets.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and sat on the chair in front of him. Malfoy ate quietly, savouring the pastry while her hands gathered warmth from her cup. They were silent for almost a minute when Hermione cast a muffliato non-verbally. She caught Malfoy looking at her, midchew with a raised eyebrow.

“Listen, Malfoy…” she started, paused, and inhaled then exhaled quickly, “I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but kind to me whenever I was in the hospital. I-It’s just the curiosity got the better of me… I wanted to know…” she trailed off and her eyes fell to the top of the cup in her hands.

Malfoy did not answer her. He just finished the tartlet he was eating while Hermione kept her eyes down. Then, the plate with on lemon raspberry tartlet was pushed to her. She looked up and found Malfoy drinking his coffee. She stared at him with furrowed brows.

He put his cup down and said, “Bribery.”

“Bribery?”

“Mum is throwing a party for the twins’ birthday party next month and she wanted you to be there. So, there’s my bribery for you to come,” he said with a smirk and Hermione laughed.

“Do I need to buy new robes then?”

He chuckled then he shook his head, “No. That’s totally unnecessary. Mum is different from my mother. She liked things simple. It’s just a small party—us, our friends which are just my friends, the twins’ nanny Trisha and you or you can bring your friends, she won’t mind at all. Just let me know beforehand.”

“Hmm, if I’ll attend the party, am I considered forgiven?” Hermione asked, tapping a finger on her cup.

“It shouldn’t have been a big deal so you don’t need to apologize. I overreacted. I could’ve just told you that you can inquire from the Ministry about my situation—or simply explain it myself but I had a scheduled operation that day. Basically, my excuse was I had no good sleep that day and I am busy.”

Hermione smiled, “You’ll always be dramatic.”

“Hey. I am not that dramatic,” he said and they both laughed.

Once they stopped laughing, he spoke, “Huh, I missed your laugh really.”

“That’s what you get from avoiding me,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes, taking a sip of her almost cold latte.

He put his hands up in mock surrender, “I already admitted that I overreacted.”

“Fine,” she replied with a smile. She watched as he put his hands down and looked at his wristwatch.

“I have to go.”

“I’ll go with you. Let me just get this…,” Hermione said taking a paper napkin from her shoulder bag and picked up the tartlet. Malfoy tapped the table and the spell was removed. Hermione’s brow arched but Malfoy rolled his eyes and she just chuckled.

As they exited the café, a grinning Jay said his goodbyes that they both returned and in Hermione’s peripheral, she saw Aunt Florrie smiling from the doorway to the back of the store.

They fell into a conversation about her father as they walked towards the hospital. He did not tell her that everything’s going to be normal again instead, he was telling him the truth of the situation which Hermione completely appreciated. She’d rather have honesty than expecting something impossible.

When they reached the hospital, he walked with her to her father’s room before leaving to prepare for a scheduled operation he was assigned with due to Dr. Boris’ absence—who was actually on leave for a very important date.

__________

Hermione and Draco went back from their routine like it was the most natural thing to do and started calling each other by their first names—Draco in the wizarding world and Dominique in the muggle world. Hermione’s father was moved to a private room and they’d arranged short and simple therapies for him to kick start his recovery on his motor skills.

Eventually, Hermione learned about an advanced Polyjuice potion that Draco learned to concoct that would last the typical one-hour duration and instead of hair, he used blood that’s enough to trick the wards in the Ministry because as he said to her, everything has a loophole. And when she asked him why he did that, he laughed before saying, just to mess with Potter and Weasley, besides I won five galleons from George. We have a bet you see; how long will they be fooled. He said a month and I said two. Guess what the 4th month is almost over. I don’t mind if you tell them though.

Harry and Ron only found out the truth when Hermione invited them to join her and Ginny in attending the twins’ birthday party. It took almost a whole day to explain it all (except about the Polyjuice potion and the bet—because they should hear it from George or Draco). Ron was hesitant to attend but Harry was obligated to attend since Ginny was bringing James with her who was a year younger than the twins.

Then one day during a recovery session, Hermione found herself watching Draco—or Dominique—talking to her father. He just had another breakdown and started arguing with everyone. Hermione wanted to intervene but she could see the tiredness in his eyes, the feeling of loss was not foreign to her. However, seeing it from her father, she cannot take it well. As much as she hated to admit it, she did not know what else she could do yet there was Draco, sitting with his father on the floor of the therapy room. Does he know that he was talking to Draco, the one who bullied her before? Yes. It was on the first breakdown, Draco happened to be there when it happened. He asked the staff to cancel the session for that day and asked to be left alone with him. And they sat on the floor just like right now. It was probably difficult for Draco but something happened within the hours of their conversation that made her father agree that he’d do the session again the next schedule.

After what seemed like an hour, Draco met her gaze and smiled before standing up and helped her father stand up. Then, he called for the staff to go back and continue the session.

“How did you convince him this time?” Hermione asked, her brow slightly inching up.

“I just promised him something. I cannot share though. Not yet,” he said as he left the therapy room and before she can even follow him, the tannoy called for him and he sprinted away.

She looked back at her father and how he strived to finish his session told her that whatever Draco promised him was good enough—for now.

Once her father’s session ended, they exited the hospital with him in a wheelchair. They were waiting for a taxi when Hermione’s father spoke.

“D-do you believe h-he had changed?”

Her brows furrowed and her father clarified with a whisper, “Draco.”

Looking back now, she counted the times that he should have been sneering at her, insulting her or laughing at her situation but didn’t instead, he sat down with her and talked to her. She recalled the day she found out that he was Dr. Malraux, she was not disappointed at all, intrigued mostly. She even found herself missing his presence around her. She cannot believe it but he had changed from the prat who bullied her then into the man he was now. Sure, he was still annoying at times but most of the time, she found herself admiring how he navigated within the world he used to hate with ease.

With a smile, Hermione answered, “Yes, he did.”

Her father gave him a lopsided smile, “Good.”

She smiled down at her father, a bit confused about what he answered but thought, yes it was good.

#dramoine #oneshot #dramione one shot #posted in other sites #ao3 #fanfiction.net #wattpad

[ifuckinglovedio]

(Usually I would've just answered your ask but I wrote out this whole thing before realizing how asks work and didn't wanna copy it jdhshs)

@aot--levi--ttd

Ahh thank you so much for the nice ask!! I usually don’t write female reader but since I hadn’t linked to my rules yet before you sent this ask I’ll make an exception! (Though to be honest, even though I've had a female reader in mind writing this, I feel like it just naturally came out gender neutral anyway... I hope that's alright!)

Jotaro, Mista & Josuke getting called late at night by their s/o whose being followed

Jotaro 🐬

Jotaro had stayed up until late at night once again, getting lost in his work

It was already after midnight when he finally got up from his desk, so when he got a call from you he knew something must be wrong

"Why are you calling so late? Is everything okay?"

You told him about what happened, and though you tried to keep your voice calm so he wouldn't be overly worried, he could pick up the panic in your tone.

"Don't worry, I'm coming to pick you up. Just keep walking, and keep talking to me, alright? Tell me what you see."

He did his best to rush over to you. Luckily he knew the city you were in quite well, and thanks to your descriptions, it took less than 20 minutes before he found you.

He immediately ran towards you, even stopping time to get to you quicker, holding you in a close embrace and comforting you as best as he could.

When he spotted the man behind you, he did his best to imprint his face into his mind. What you told him made it unmistakably clear that this wasnt someone with good intentions. Part of him wanted to knock that guy down right then and there, but he decided against it. You were more important.

On the way back home he made sure to hold your hand for almost the entire drive. You were so exhausted, physically and mentally, that you couldnt help but fall asleep.

When you finally arrived Jotaro picked you up and carried you to bed, calmly tucking you in before going back to his office

He finished cleaning his desk and quickly drew a sketch of your stalker with SP's help, before going to sleep as well

When you told him the next day you felt like you'd seen this man following you a few times already, he didn't hesitate to file a police report. He took the day off to spend it with you, taking you out to brunch and a walk on the beach, making sure to distract you as much as he could by telling you his favorite little fun facts about sea creatures, and even picking up a shiny seashell he found to gift to you later.

Josuke 💜

Josuke had been worried for some time now.

You told him you would make a trip into town that day and might not make it home until late at night, but it's been hours now since he started waiting for you to come back. No text, no call, nothing. This was so unlike you, and the longer time went on, the harder it got for him to stay distracted.

But finally, his phone rang - and it was you! Letting out a sigh of relief, he answered your call, only to start panicking once more.

You didn't even greet him, just let out a meek "Josuke?" You sounded scared.

"(Y/N)? I've been waiting for you to call! Where have you been?! Is everything ok? You sound worried..."

You told him you forgot time. Instead of going right home after finishing your errands you wanted to stroll through the city, but you got lost on the way. And on top of that you could swear the man behind you didn't just walk the same way by chance...

"Josuke, I'm scared..."

"Don't worry! I'm coming for you! For now, try to head somewhere with more people. I'll make some calls and then I'll immediatly call you back, ok? I won't be gone longer than five minutes."

He quickly called his friends and told them what's up, and they agreed to help. They all got on their bikes and drove to the city, splitting up to search for you, all while Josuke kept you on the phone, make sure you knew he was there for you.

Okuyasu found you first, doing his best to look even more intimidating than usual, and making it clear to everyone around that you were his friend. He texted the others and took you to their pre determined meeting spot, keeping an arm around your shoulder until the man that had been following you was finally gone.

When you reached the others tears welled in your eyes. Josuke was pacing around, worriedly, while Koichi was trying to calm down Rohan, who seemed stressed as well, and obviously annoyed by Josuke.

Seeing your friends all worried for you, and even Rohan being there... it warmed you up inside a bit.

You ran towards Josuke while calling out his name, the former immediately catching you in his arms.

"You're safe... oh god, I was so worried."

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and wiped away your tears.

"Hey, hey, no need to cry! It's alright. You're safe. You're with me."

When you commented on the fact that Rohan was there, the mangaka's smile he had whole looking at you two turned into a frown and he started at the ground.

"Well, Koichi called me, and I still owed him a favor... besides, what kind of guy wouldn't help in a situation like this?!"

He was the only one with a car, so he drove you home, where you met with Josuke again.

You spent the rest of the evening watching an episode of your favorite comfort show, cuddled up close to your boyfriend, falling asleep next to him.

"No matter what you say, next time I'll make sure to come with you..."

Mista 🔫

You were out buying some new supplies for the gang. Until now you've always had someone along with you to make sure you're safe, but since nothing had happened for the past few months and you insisted on it, you went alone this time.

And of course, this was the day you should've taken someone along with you.

You'd finally gotten everything - it was a real drag to find the candy Narancia wanted for his birthday - you usually would've just gotten any other candy bar, but since it would be his birthday soon and he insisted these ones were the best, you went the literal extra mile and looked through every shop in the city you could think of.

By the time you'd finally found it the sun had already set, and when stepping out of the store and trying to make your way back, you realized you'd gotten completely lost.

You spent an hour wandering around the city, trying to find some kind of building or street you recognized, but it felt like you were running in circles. The exhaustion slowly got to you, and you wanted nothing but to lie down, yet you knew you had to stay strong.

After you arrived at the same street crossing yet again, you realized the man by the street lamp seemed more than familiar. You turned around and walked the other way, looking discreetly over your shoulder to realize you were indeed being followed.

Was it an enemy stand user? Someone who held a grudge against your boyfriend and the rest of the gang? Or just a creep who liked to follow young girls around at night? In any way, your first thought was to call your boyfriend.

"Honey bear? How are you baby? Have you eaten dinner already?"

"Huh? Oi, (y/n), what's up with the weird names?"

"Ah, so should I bring something for you? I can pick up some noodles on the way home ~"

"Hey,, you're acting kinda weird, is everything alright?"

"No, noo! It'll be just like that time two years ago. I got lost going shopping, remember? And then you picked me up and we had some noodles!"

That was enough for him. "So, you got lost and need me to pick you up, but can't say it outright, right?" "Yep!" "I'll be there in just a moment. OI, NARANCIA!"

The two ventured into town, and with Aerosmith's help they managed to find you quite quickly. They ran towards you, and you were more than relieved when you saw them come across the corner.

You rushed to his side and Mista took your hand, pointing his gun at the man following you.

Considering how quickly he ran away it must've just been some rando. Still, you were more than relieved to be with Mista again.

With how tired you were after the day, he offered to carry you on his back and you immediately accepted, holding closely onto him and burying your head on his shoulder.

You didn't refuse the opportunity and gave him a little peck on the cheek, letting you hear that laugh you so loved.

Together you three ventured home, when after some minutes something was off...

"Oi, Narancia? Weren't we supposed to go left here?" "No, I swear it's to the right!" "Hey, wait a minute, weren't we just at this lamppost?"

...you got lost again.

In the end Abbachio came to pick you three up, though not before getting annoyed by your shared idiocy.

Finally feeling at peace, you feel asleep next to Mista on the car ride. Though your life had gotten consistently more dangerous since you met him, you couldn't help but feel like whenever he was around, things were finally alright.

#jjba #jojo x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #guido mista #mista x reader #mista headcanons #jotaro kujo #jotaro x reader #part 4 jotaro #jotaro headcanons #josuke higashitaka #josuke x reader #josuke headcanons

[gifted-burnout-archive]

Mistletoe and Wine

Word Count: 3.1K+

Author’s Note: So I have had this idea for literal months, one that I really wanted to write but never quite knew how to. So here it is! We started with fluff, we move on to angst, and there will be smut further down the line. Inspired a fair amount by the songs ‘Remeber that Night?’ by Sara Keys and ‘To Love Someone Else’ by Avery Lynch. Plus, Bobby deserves some fanfiction! Also, I know these are kinda short but I thought it would work best so don’t hate me pleaseeee.

Pairings: bobby/trevor wilson x reader - platonic!reggie and alex x reader - former luke x reader

Warnings: discussion of death, general angst, upsetting circumstances.

--

1999.

Bad habits are a hard thing to break. Doing something over and over, getting used to the action of it, deciding to take that thing out of your life entirely is a conscious and difficult decision. It’s why people fall back into bad relationships, or start smoking again, or pick up that extra tub of ice cream: breaking that habit when it didn’t feel so bad in the first place is hard. People like familiarity, people like to be comfortable, people like to be docile in their own lives.

Well, some people do.

But there is a flip side: when good habits are broken by external factors, they can be hard to retrieve, replaced by bad ones instead over overcome. The external factor varies, of course: moving to a new house can stop someone from exercising; a change of job can ruin a healthy sleep schedule; anxiety over test can stop someone eating.

The lost of a loved one can cause someone to cut of friends, family, places: everything and everyone that held them together.

It was Y/N’s first time back in Los Angeles since it happened.

The incident she never found the courage to speak about: that prompted her to pack her things and move to the other side of the country and live with her grandparents until she finished at college. The incident that forced her to make friends with strangers, to go to church every Sunday to keep good faith despite not even being Christian: and yet she had still arrived back where it started, standing on her parents’ porch, looking down towards the garage she hadn’t seen in years.

“You changed your hair.”

“You got famous…”

The young man walking up the driveway dressed how Y/N expected him to: gone were his hand-me-down too-baggy jeans and the black and white striped top he never seemed to take off, the leather vest jacket he had glued spikes onto the shoulders of. He had replaced it with suede shoes and a leopard print shirt, a hat perched atop his mess of hair like he was still in the southern hemisphere, not LA at Christmas.

“I brought wine. Old stuff, good stuff.” He said with a grin she couldn’t help but smile back to, though it was only ever so slightly. He suited his new look; he exuded an air of confidence that matched the person she had known four years and a half years before.

“Why are you here, Bobby?” Y/N finally asked, finally looked to her old friend, pulling out a cigarette case from her pocket, then a lighter, sitting a stick between her lips and lighting her face with the orange flame from the zippo. “Last I checked,” She said through the cigarette, inhaling before blowing out a stream of smoke. “You were in Sydney, on the big world tour.”

“I go by Trevor now, you know.” The young man corrected her, making his way along the driveway and bouncing up the porch steps, resting himself against the wooden railing beside her. When she offered the cigarette, he accepted, passing it back as wisps of smoke blew from his nose. “Your parents called me; said you were in town again…” He let out a sigh, looking over at the girl he knew, her face lit by the Christmas lights the family had wrangled onto the front lawn’s bushes. “Do you really not want me here?”

“Of course I do.” Y/N replied, her eyes drifting back towards the garage. “I just… I don’t know if I can even go close to it anymore.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her body tense until bobby’s arm came over her shoulders and pulled her close, the taller boy hugging her from behind. They stayed that way for a few minutes, swaying a little when the breeze demanded it, sharing the cigarette and another in mutual silence, all while her parents let Cliff Richards play in the kitchen beyond the front door.

“We said we’d all spend this Christmas in that garage, no matter what happened, remember?” Bobby reminded Y/N of the reason she had even travelled back home in the first place: to fulfil a promise she had made to her friends all those years ago. “1994, we were all 17… We made the promise to one another to spend Christmas together five years from then.”

“They didn’t keep their half of the promise, Bobby.”

“How do you know?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before breaking their embrace, turning Y/N so they stood side by side, his arm coming over her shoulder as she smoked the last of the cigarette, his other hand still holding the rather pricey bottle of red an assistant had recommended before he got on the plane. “We do this together… I have a feeling they may just be waiting for us there…”

Bobby’s words, and his height, weight and strength advantages, caused Y/N to let herself be dragged down her old driveway in defeat, shuffling in a pair of old house shoes her mom used to wear, the rest of her still dressed up in the more fanciful attire she had picked out for brunch with her mother that morning. His hand squeezed her shoulder, a comfort despite their years apart.

It was nice to know they were still friends after everything...

Bobby only let her go to open up the heavy garage door, handing the bottle of wine over to her before doing so, the wood creaking and groaning after years of disuse. Y/N screed the cap off the wine, taking a swig as she watched on, and attempt to calm her heart perhaps; it seemed to be racing a thousand miles a minute and faster with every inch wider the entrance to her garage got.

“Bobby-”

“Too late… It’s open.” Bobby cut in, the door wide enough for him to slip inside and flick on the light switch, the dim glow sparking Y/N’s curiosity as she followed him into long lost memories.

The room was almost exactly how the guys had left it those years before: blankets strewn over the couch; instruments sat, set up for the next band practise. The only difference seemed to be the excessive amount of dust that covered the furniture, and the deflated air mattress on the far side of the room. But there it was: under the flickering solo lightbulb, with air so thick it had Y/N taking another gulp of booze to wet her throat, the old studio.

“It feels like we’re 17 again, doesn’t it?” She managed to whisper, noticing Bobby in a similar state of awe from out the corner of her eye, him being the first to take a step further into the room, and another. She watched him walk through the furniture, the instruments: all the memories they had made in that little shack at the end of her driveway.

Y/N could see it all too, like a movie being played before her eyes. She saw the boys practicing until the early hours, constantly full of energy and life and adrenaline, no matter her parents’ half-hearted nags for them to abide by quiet hours. She could see nights of song writing on her family’s old patio furniture, takeout ordered in from the Chinese place two streets over. There was a constant sense of joy, of pure unfiltered happiness that came from their music, from the months they spent perfecting their first album and hustling for that fucking gig at the Orpheum.

In an instant Y/N’s subconscious smile turned to a frown. All the happiness was overshadowed by the weeks after; of nights spent sobbing into her pillow, of the three funerals they held within a week, of Bobby leaving when they needed each other most.

“Hey, hey.” Bobby’s worried words brought Y/N back from the daydream, his hands cupping her face as his thumbs swiped across her cheeks, collecting the tears she hadn’t noticed falling. “Are you alright, love?” He asked gently, lifting Y/N’s chin for their eyes to meet.

“I shouldn’t have come home… I should have stayed in Chicago at my job and worked through the holidays.” Y/N said quickly, through shallow breaths, her vision blurring. “I didn’t want to do this but I told myself I should. I didn’t want to do this again; I didn’t want to be here again…”

“Y/N…” Bobby pulled her into a hug, one hand holding her head, the other around her back, opting to rock back and forth slowly, gently, a trick he had learned when they were younger. The other guys never quite knew how to deal with someone crying, let alone a girl, and let alone Y/N. But Bobby did.

--

It wasn’t every year you changed decade, century and millennium, and Y/N and Bobby decided to call in the 2000s together.

They had been together since Christmas Eve, inseparable really. Bobby opted to stay in LA instead of head for the ball drop in New York, and he felt good about that choice: it meant more time with Y/N, to reconnect, to catch up on the lost years when he was touring the world and Y/N was getting her degree.

Her parents liked it, watching the pair laughing again at Christmas Dinner: it felt like the first time Y/N had laughed since it happened. They didn’t get in the pair’s way when they chose to clean up the garage, spending most of the limbo between Christmas and New Year dusting and vacuuming the shack at the end of the driveway, restoring it to something beyond its former glory.

They strung up lights, washed down the windows and added houseplants, and Bobby took on the heart-breaking job of tidying away the instruments that lay strewn around while Y/N focused on carpet cleaning, on high reach dusting, on anything but the still looming presence of the friends they had lost.

By New Year’s Eve, as Y/N’s parents informed the pair they were headed to their friends’ party, the garage was readied for a night of the two friends drinking: bottles of champagne had been bought, an old antenna tv had been set up to watch the countdown that would take place by the end of the hour. They both dressed up, Bobby in a suit, Y/N in a dress. She did her makeup, he polished his shoes, they styled their hair.

They deserved to have fun, to have something good again.

“And welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the 2000 Countdown! We are five minutes out, and the party is well underway!” The grainy picture on the tv spoke through crackles as Y/N and Bobby lounged on the couch watching, a champagne flute in each of their hands.

“It’s your turn to fix it.” Y/N smirked, gesturing to the television with glass in hand, the sudden gesture causing the liquid within to splash against her hand. “Oops!” She squeaked, the pair sharing a glance before bursting into giggles, both taking another sip of the alcohol. They had been drinking since the afternoon, and as midnight came ever closer the pair became extremely inebriated. It was for different reasons, of course: it was more than just to have fun and get drunk, they were both fighting the urge to run, to shut up the garage and never come back to it.

“Only because you look so darn cute in that dress, alright?” Bobby smiled with his words, pushing himself off the old couch and setting down his drink to fix the antenna. His eyes as he moved the metal rod were on Y/N, watching her reactions to the screen’s picture, stopping when her eyes widened and she smiled wide. “Got it?”

“I love this song!” Y/N exclaimed once the sound came back, some band Bobby hadn’t heard of playing for that particular news channel’s New Year Bash, the only channel they had managed to find after a solid 70 minutes of searching earlier that night. She jumped from her chair, putting her own drink, the slow beat and sweet melody not assisted by the terrible sound quality on the box, but good enough for her to offer a hand to Bobby.

“You know, if you’re not careful I’ll sweep you off your feet.” Bobby teased as one hand landed on her waist, the other taking her hand in his as her second held his shoulder.

They didn’t do much dancing, more swaying to the song as Y/N sang along with the lyrics, her head pressed to his chest, his senses overcome with the scent of her shampoo. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, their eyes closed, they stayed like that through that song and the next. Just holding one another, just being there, the way they wanted to be.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5…” The tv counted them down, Bobby moving a half inch back and letting go of Y/N’s hand to lift her chin. Their eyes met. “4, 3,2 ,1.”

Their lips colliding with the announcement of the New Year was soft, and desperate and sweet. Y/N’s lips were soft against Bobby’s, the heat of his body radiated and blocked out the chills of the cold LA night. His hands came to her cheeks, cupping them as the kiss heated up, the pair stumbling back and into the heavy doors. She kissed him back for a moment, allowing herself the chance to have fun, to feel something other than grief.

But it was short lived.

“Bobby-”

“I’ve been waiting years to do that… I even brought along mistletoe on Christmas. I chickened out, of course but-”

“Bobby.” Y/N said again, louder that time, stopping the man in front of her in his excited rambling. He looked in her eyes, his smile fading when he saw her frown.

“Why not?” He asked before she had a chance to refuse him: he had expected something like it happening as a worst case, of course he had… But this wasn’t meant to happen. “We’re good together, aren’t we? Hasn’t the last week proved that?”

“I’m saying no, Bobby. Can’t you just leave it at that?” Y/N found herself snapping at him, moving from his hold and towards the centre of the room again, downing her champagne glass in one go.

“What did I do wrong? Whatever it is I’ll fix it, Y/N.” Bobby’s words were sincere, a promise to amend anything she asked of him, but her face stayed deadpan as her hands switched from the glass to drinking straight from the bottle.

“Nothing.”

“Then why don’t we give this a shot?!” Bobby demanded, the short fuse on his temper gone. Y/N wasn’t shocked by it, in fact she was angry at herself just as much as Bobby was. “Because I don’t understand how we’ve gone by years and years of grieving and we can’t choose to be happy now! I don’t get why I’ve been in love with you since we were seventeen and you won’t even give us a fucking trial run or something, Y/N!”

“Because of him!”

“Because of who?”

“Luke!”

Silence hung heavy in the air, nearly suffocating the pair as they faced off, Bobby stood by the doors and Y/N stood by the booze. The moment the name left her mouth, tears slipped over, running down her cheeks and ruining the makeup she had worked so hard on earlier that evening.

“Luke?” Bobby asked, his expression clearly one of astonishment as he processed the information. He walked over, until they stood at dancing distance again, and wiped away a tear from her cheek. “I didn’t know…”

“We were dating. Four months.” She confessed with a shaky breath, the relief lifting the dead weight from her shoulders. “We didn’t want to say anything: he and Alex had just finished; I didn’t want to ruin the friendships over something so little…” She paused, stepping back from Bobby. “I didn’t want to come here. I never wanted to come back home, because I knew he’d be here. They’re all here, just watching on, knowing how much I screwed up my life after they went… Bobby, I…”

“Y/N.”

“Don’t fucking pity me!” She snapped again, the raising of her voice causing Bobby to back up, to take a seat on the couch as she began to pace. “He just left. Everything with the Orpheum gig meant we didn’t say goodbye that morning, when you all headed out. It was so instantaneous, so easy… He was just gone. I loved him and he just left, and I’ve been trying to pick up the pieces since and every time I get close I drop the all again, and they scatter, and I have to start all over.” She explained through tears and quick steps, stopping only to gauge his reaction and frown. “Don’t look at me like that. God, I hate when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Bobby asked, defensive, having done his best to just listen to what she had to say.

“Like I’m 17 again and attending funerals every other day!” Y/N yelled. “Like you need to fix me!”

“What if I can though?” Bobby suggested, standing up from the couch. “What if we fix each other here? You didn’t go through that alone, Y/N.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be fixed, Bobby.” She stated decidedly, eyes cold as she fumbled for her cigarette case from her dress pocket.

“You’d rather mop over someone who died five years ago than be with me?��� The words were ones of hurt, of disbelief, of anger and sadness and something else Y/N didn’t want to discover. Tears stung her eyes.

“I’m not saying that I-”

“He wasn’t some fucking saint!” Bobby yelled, cutting her off in an attempt to make her see sense. “Y/N! You’ve clearly got some image, some fantasy in your head about Patterson that differs from fucking reality!” He reminded her of their dead friend’s faults quite happily, and Y/N slammed down the champagne bottle.

“You’re one to fucking talk!” She countered. “It’s a shame that only I know you stole his entire fucking song catalogue!”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. It was true, after all. He had reasoned that letting the music go unheard was stupid, selfish even, when he had the means and talent to release it to the world. He had told himself it was good, what he was doing, and for a moment he pondered if it was a mistake.

“To think I gave up New Year’s in New York for this shit…” He muttered, watching Y/N light a cigarette with shaky hands. He ran his own through his hair, taking a heavy sigh as Y/N processed his words.

“Get out.”

“Gladly.”

“And don’t ever contact me again, Trevor.” She added, the smoke trailing from her lips as he marched out. Leaving her alone in her memories, without friends or hope for any sort of future.

Alone on New Year’s, with bad habits she couldn’t break and haunted memories of a life she might have had.

--

Tags (same as last time ish because i am lazy... oops.): @reggiesleatherjacket @parkeret @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @delicatelukepatterson @lukespatterson @kcd15 @siennanoelle01 @eries45 @lolychu @lazydaisy19 @reggieandthereggies @writerinlearning @mjflower @uhmitstori @walkingonshunshine @kristencoontz @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @ritz-hell-hotel @mishappend @dovegranger @dmcfarland1 @cherrymaybank @oswinsleaf​ @only-here-for-jatp​ @jatpfan99​ @n0wornever​ @bookdealer5 @epikskool  @thesweetestsinner @fangirlangioma @moviesbooksandfandoms @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned @saroo-hawks @charliessunset @bigdesi @avngrsinitiative @emotionalbruv  @korydickson @uglypeachh @rogersangel @independentgirl @mon-charmante @writingforphantoms @musicconversedance  @heimdoodle​ @-episkey-  @obxmermaid​ @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @simp4madi @aliciameix​ @kinda-just-chillin-here @blueyed-one @ghostlyb1tch @leahstypewriter

--

what comes next? wait and see

#abby's twelve days of christmas #bobby wilson x reader #jatp bobby x reader #luke patterson x reader #jatp luke x reader #julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp alex #jatp reggie #alex mercer #reggie peters #angst

[starlost-andfound]

at the divide // d.s (seasons change au)

Warning: The events in this au are an addition to the timeline of Seasons Change by @chilling-seavey (also pic credits to her <3). To avoid spoilers, please go read that amazing masterpiece first (and check out her other writing)

Inspired by If I Get High by Nothing But Thieves

Summary: Daniel searches for Marigold’s presence in a time he misses her the most.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death and grief, alcohol consumption, kind of unedited

Word Count: Approximately 3K

A/N: If you want to really feel this one, listen to If I Get High by Nothing But Thieves and Marigold and Daniel’s song Cover Me Up by Morgan Wallen

I'll meet you at the divide

To break the spell

It was too good to be true, like a fantasy with a tragic twist, a hope for a sunny day clouded by storms. Daniel carried a heavy heart yet he felt empty. His heart beat in his chest, pumping life into his veins but he loomed around in silence. He was a ghost haunted by the walls of his own home. The house was draped in an eerie quiet, so quiet Daniel could hear the clock ticking in his bedroom from downstairs. He set aside his freshly washed plate in the drying rack and dumped his emptied beer bottle in the bin. When Lennox went to school, lunches were painfully quiet. Daniel often found himself in front of the TV, eating his lunch with the background noise of any program playing on the screen.

With a sigh he rested his hands against the counter, leaning forward. His eyes drifted to the living room, where a line of photo frames stood on the mantle above the fireplace. She was everywhere. Daniel didn’t know whether that was a blessing or a curse. The clock ticked rhythmically, Daniel couldn't count the hours. His fingers traced the frames on the mantle. She was always smiling, even when it hurt the most. He never understood how. How could she hold all the rays of the sun while her star collapsed? He was the moon without a sun sharing its light, a dark unlit sky with lonely stars.

Stars. Lennox. Daniel smiled shakily, his vision blurring as he stood in front of the last photo on the fireplace. Even as the faces and colours blended together with his tears, he could still remember the image clearly. Lennox’s first hockey match. Lennox was squashed between Daniel and Marigold, wearing his hockey gear. They all held matching smiles on their faces. She was everywhere and maybe that’s what made it so hard to let go, suffocating when her presence was embedded in the air around him.

Daniel grabbed himself a beer and sat down on the couch, picking up a familiar belonging: a scrapbook Marigold had crafted for them, celebrating their early dating anniversaries. The book’s cover was brightly decorated with stars and stickers. He sat down, tracing his fingers over the scribbled text in her handwriting. He flipped through the pages, taking his time to trace the stuck-on tickets and read the small love letters Marigold had delicately weaved in her writing.

A point where two worlds collide

Yeah, we'll rebel

His mind felt dizzy with the slight tinge of alcohol. All the memories printed into the scrapbook seemed like distant conversations and hazy images. He turned the page over, his eyes falling to a scribbled date in the middle and countless doodles and stickers in the background. His heart dropped as his mind took him back to one of the most special nights in his life.His mind and heart pulled him down like an anchor into the sea, dragging him deeper until there wasn’t enough light left to see.  

Daniel wiped the stream of tears off his face, closing the book. He sunk down farther into the couch, holding his head as he cried. He exhaled shakily, feeling a light feather touch trailed up his shoulder. Daniel tensed as he heard a whisper. The voice was smooth like a calming wind, familiar like the arms of a lover.

“Why so many tears, my sweet?”

He opened his eyes and from the blurry mist in his eyes he saw the form of the woman who carried his heart.

“Sunshine,” he breathed. Daniel threw his arms around her in an instant. He cried, clinging on to her tighter as sobs shook his body.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Marigold held him close, rubbing soothing circles over his back. She kissed his head as he cried. She tried to pull back slightly but Daniel only held her closer.

“How- you-you’re here-I don’t know what to do, Marigold,” he whimpered. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Why would you say that, hmm?” she pulled back and cupped his cheeks. Her thumbs wiped the tears from his cheeks. “You’re doing so well, my sweet. I am so proud of you.”

Daniel shook his head from side to side. He gripped her shirt and rested his head against her chest. His lips trembled, “I just want you back.”

Marigold sighed quietly, “You know that’s not possible.”

“Please don’t go. ”

And we run

And we run

And we run

Until we break through

“I won’t leave just yet,” she stroked his hair gently.

Daniel sniffled, and looked up. He reached his hand up, brushing his hand along her jaw and then cupping her cheek, “You are very real.”

Marigold laughed softly, “Yes, I am here.”

“Do you-” Daniel held her hand. “Does it hurt anymore?”

Marigold smiled, “Not anymore, no.”

Daniel smiled shakily, feeling the tears build up again at the answer he wished he had heard many months ago. He sat up and his hands reached up to caress her cheek. She had this golden glow that reminded Daniel of when she was carrying Lennox. “You’re so beautiful.”

Marigold smiled.

Daniel pressed his forehead against hers, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, my sweet.”

He leaned closer, pressing his lips on hers. Her soft lips and skin disappeared under his touch, fading into the air. Daniel fell forward on the couch, his hands gripping the fabric. He snapped his head around in search of her, letting out a strangled cry as he was met with the walls of his living room.

If I get high enough

Will I see you again?

Daniel was falling into a routine and he was growing to hate it. With no energy by noon, he often landed on a couch, a drink in his hand and the multiple CD’s of home videos by his side. He never drank too much before Lennox came home. Lennox was the only light which filled the gaping hole in his chest but the sharp taste of the beer numbed his mind. It calmed the storm of emotions he carried inside, just for a few moments and for him that was enough. Daniel entered the living room with a beer in his hand, heading to the CD’s by the television. The text on the CD covers were fading where he held them, some more than others, exposing the amount of times he watched them.

I feel my loss every night

Not long to wait

He slumped back down on the couch with a beer bottle in his hand as the video loaded. A crackle echoed over the speaker before a soft voice spoke.

And if I do this thing right

I dream of our escape

“Lennox, say hi,” Marigold whispered behind the camera.

She zoomed in on a baby Lennox, waddling around the flowers in the garden in his small yellow boots. He wore one of Marigold’s old sweaters, far too small for her but slightly too large for the little boy. The sleeves and hem of the sweater were rolled up, hugging his body. Spud turned to the camera and grinned, his two little teeth sticking out. He waved his arm at the camera and turned back to the flowers decorating their garden.

He pointed at the bunch of hydrangeas and tugged at his sweater, “Blue. Like mine.”

Marigold gasped, “Yes, well done my shining star!”

Spud giggled and the camera turned just as Daniel’s car rolled into the driveway.

“Daddy’s here!‘ Marigold captured Daniel stepping out of the truck with a smile. Lennox squealed, running to Daniel with his hands up. “Dada!”

Daniel scooped him up into his arms, bouncing him gently, “Hi Spud, I missed you!”

Marigold shuffled closer to Daniel, the camera lens covered as they shared a quick kiss, “Hi my sweet.”

“Hey sunshine.”

The camera flipped, fitting all three of them into the frame. Lennox grabbed the camera in his hands and pressed the lens close to his face.

“Oh, careful Spud.”

The curious child attempted to hold the camera out like his mother, pointing at the flowers, “Blue!” The garden twisted into a spiral as the camera tumbled out of his hands and the video cut off.

Daniel sniffled quietly and took a gulp of his beer. The next video began to roll. He heard the familiar sound of her footsteps down the stairs. The camera trailed the floor until it lifted up outside the house, pointing at Daniel.

“Look how handsome my baby daddy is.”

Daniel glanced up at the camera with a bashful smile. Marigold pulled him up by his arm so he could be seen better and she set her hand against his chest, giving him a pat.

“I’m going to have to keep close eyes on you at Sunday brunch. All the ladies are gonna want a piece of this.”

“Oh my gosh.” Daniel chuckled shyly.

“And my other handsome man!” Marigold added, shuffling around the open door to get a good shot of the baby in the car seat. “Gonna be fighting the ladies off you too, my beautiful boy.”

Lennox blinked up at her but her same smile could be seen forming behind his pacifier that bumped excitedly against his little nose. Marigold turned the camera around as she leaned in with Daniel, capturing both of them together and Daniel just smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She looked up at him lovingly, “Happy first Father’s Day, my sweet.”

“Thank you.” Daniel smiled, meeting her halfway for a kiss. “And thank you for making me a father.”

They shared a few more kisses and ‘I love you’s until Lennox let out a small cry.

“Oh my.” Marigold said, addressing the camera again as Daniel left the frame to care for Lennox, “Well, when Lennox says it’s time to go, it’s time to go! We have church to get to and a bunch to show off at.”

When she was a few steps away, the camera caught her admiring her husband over her shoulder as he finished buckling in the baby.

She looked back to the camera and spoke gently with her wide grin spread all over her soft face, “Lennox Blake, if you’re watching this some time in the future when you’re grown up and annoyed by your parents – just know that you have the best daddy in the whole stinking world. I picked him out myself for you so that’s how you know he’s good.”

The camera clicked softly and a another video played.

The screen zoomed in on Daniel and Lennox across the grass. Lennox was tucked up on his shoulder and Daniel was pointing out little flowers and the buds on the trees as they walked. He finally looked over and caught Marigold filming, a shy smile taking over his face and he rested his head against his son’s tiny body.

And we run

And we run

Daniel was a mess, his stray tears turning into quiet sobs. He turned off the TV, the bright screen of colours and memories turning into a reflection of his pain. He chugged down the rest of his second beer and dragged himself off the couch. The air felt stuffy, like he couldn’t breathe properly. He swayed as he stumbled to the garden door, nearly falling down the steps. A choked sob left his lips and he covered his mouth. He stormed past the bushes of overgrown, wilting flowers.

And we run

Until we break through

Daniel stumbled to the back of the garden, grabbing the support of the garden swing. The tears fell down his face , smudging the darkening colours of the flowers around him. He slid down to the grass, leaning his head back. Daniel dug his fists into the ground, tugging out strands of grass with a yell. The pain in his chest burned into tears and he closed his eyes, drowning himself in his loss. His head felt heavy with what remained of the alcohol in the system and his tears. A soft breeze rustled gently.

If I get high enough

Will I see you again?

A soft hand brushed his cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“My sweet.”

Daniel shook his head, “No, go away.”

“Daniel, my sweet. It’s okay, I’m here.”

He wiped his eyes and took a shaky breath as he saw her again. “Mari.”

“Come on, let’s get you up.” Marigold reached out her hands to pull him up to his feet. She dusted off his shoulders and smiled. “There. Much better. Come on.”

Daniel sniffled, his eyes focused on Marigold in some state of confusion and surprise. Her arm was wrapped around Daniel’s as she guided him inside the house. He lifted his finger to touch her cheek. Marigold giggled softly, “What are you doing?”

“Where are we going?” his voice cracked.

“I haven’t seen Apollo and Venus in so long,” Marigold smiled, looking up at Daniel. “Let’s go for a ride.”

Daniel moved at a slow pace, trotting beside Marigold on her horse. Marigold looked around at the green fields ahead of them, a glow in her eyes. He watched how her hair moved in the wind, her blonde curls flowing. The sun reflected on her face, and Daniel smiled. Her face was full of colour, no longer pale, no longer lifeless. For once she seemed at ease and Daniel had forgotten what that felt like.

Marigold slowed down to a stop and for the first time Daniel turned his head away from her. He gasped softly, instantly recognizing their surroundings, their spot. He followed her movements as she climbed off her horse and sat down at the spot where he would normally park the truck. Marigold shifted closer to Daniel, if it was even possible, and placed her head on his shoulder.

Daniel held her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. Marigold sighed, “No matter how many times we come here, the view still takes my breath away. It’s beautiful.”

Daniel hummed in agreement but his focus seemed to lie on staying as close to her as possible.

“You haven’t been singing much lately, my sweet,” she remarked.

“I know,” Daniel mumbled. His voice trembled and he took a moment to breathe. “It’s hard.”

Marigold smiled softly and caressed his cheek. “Could you sing something for me?”

Daniel nodded. His voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper. “A h-heart on the run.” He gulped. His eyes connected with hers and he sighed shakily. “Keeps a hand on the gun. You can’t trust anyone. I was so su-s”

Daniel’s head bowed down and he wiped his eyes, “I-I’m so-sorry-”

Marigold shook her head, cupping his cheeks. She wiped his tears away and smiled softly. “I was so sure. What I needed was more, tried to shoot out the sun,” she sang.

Daniel lifted his eyes to hers, his frown breaking into a shaky smile. “The days when we raged, we flew off the page. Such damage was done,” he joined in unison.

Marigold stood up on her feet, reaching out her hand. Daniel stood up, his hand in hers as she pulled him closer. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and Daniel held her waist, sucking in his breath. “But I made it through, 'cause somebody knew I was meant for someone.”

They swayed gently from side to side. Daniel cried quietly, pulling her closer until there was barely space between them, his forehead against hers. They shared the kisses that had been stolen from them, singing the unfinished lyrics of their song with their lips just a touch apart. A setting sun cast a dreamy light over the couple. Daniel’s singing was consumed by his tears and he buried his head in between her neck and shoulder. He held her tighter, his tears staining her beautiful dress.  

“So cover me up and know you're enough.” Marigold rubbed her hands soothingly over his back and kissed his shoulder. “To use me for good.”

Marigold moved her hands to his chest. Daniel didn’t move, wanting to be in her arms. “My sweet, it’s getting dark. We should get home.”

Daniel pulled away reluctantly, holding her hand as they walked back to Apollo and Venus. Marigold waited by his side as he climbed his horse. She placed her hand on his knee and they leaned closer, their lips meeting each other halfway. Daniel nearly wished he couldn’t breathe when he pulled away for a breath. Marigold pecked his lips again before climbing her horse.

She travelled forward, Daniel following behind. Marigold sped up, urging her horse to gallop faster. Daniel frowned and tried to catch up with her.

“Sunshine,” he was an arm’s reach away.

“My sweet,” Marigold turned back to him with a smile, but it wasn’t the same. There was some underlying loss in her smile and it made Daniel’s heart drop to his stomach. “It’s time to go.”

“Sunshin-” he hurried Venus to run faster. “Sunshine! Marigold, wait!”

And we run

And we run

And we run

Daniel struggled, panting. The wind blew harshly in his face as Marigold moved faster, turning into a blur. Marigold faded farther and farther away until she disappeared. He cried out for her, his voice dying out into violent sobs. “Mari-stop!”.

Venus turned to mist from beneath him and Daniel fell to his knees. He pulled himself up, ignoring the ache in his legs and he broke into a sprint.

He felt himself fade the faster he ran, hearing a voice call out for him, but it wasn’t hers. The distance he covered never seemed enough as the fields ran endlessly in front of him. His legs gave out under him and he fell, head first into the grass.

Until we break through

Daniel’s eyes opened and he turned over with a groan, feeling someone shake his shoulder. “Dad, dad!”

He sat up in a sudden movement, startling Lennox. Daniel pulled himself to his feet, marching past Lennox to the stables.

“Dad, what happened? Where are you going?” Lennox followed him, his school bag bouncing on his bag as he kept up with his father. Daniel entered the stables, his shoulders falling as he found the horses well kept in their pens.  

“Dad?”  Lennox walked up to his side and held his arm, looking up at a distraught Daniel. He looked down at Lennox and brushed his hand over his head. Daniel pulled Lennox close, hugging him tight. Lennox welcomed the hug, unknowing of the inner turmoil in Daniel’s heart. He could still feel her in their own shining star, little remnants of sunshine and beautiful blooming flowers.

“Let’s go inside, Spud,” he whispered.

Lennox pulled away with a smile and jogged back into the house. Daniel watched him go before he turned back to the stable. He looked past the open entryway where the green fields stretched out to the horizon, meeting the sky.

And we run

And we run

And we run

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

Taglist: @jonahlovescoffee​ @bessonbae @hiya-its-amber​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @the-girl-who-cried-wolf​

#Daniel seavey #Daniel seavey imagines #seasons change

[hockeyboysiguess]

peace | t. seguin

a/n: had this idea for a hot minute. finally felt like writing it out!

wine pairing: a port wine, pretty much as sweet as wine gets. 

warnings: cavity causing sweetness. some swearing. 

word count: 2.8K

Tyler Seguin had taken a while to grow up, longer than some people wanted, longer than even Tyler himself had wanted at some points. Some people had lost faith he ever would, even some of the people closest to him. It made him cautious and caused him to retreat further into his comfortable shell of youth and false innocence. It prevented him from becoming the person he was always meant to be. Youth and the mistakes that come along with it weren’t forever and he had always know that. But it was easy. Continuing down a straight, defined path was easier than taking one that branched off into the surrounding mist with no idea what the end would look like, even if the path he was on would end in a brick wall he’d seen coming since he’d started on it. 

Until you. 

Meeting you for the first time was one of Tyler’s foggiest memories. He had been absolutely trashed, falling all over himself at a bar. You had been there with a few friends, celebrating something that good that had happened at work, a good presentation, a new client, a promotion, Tyler couldn’t remember for the life of him. Tyler had tried to be smooth and offered to buy you a drink, but the interaction instead ended up with you flagging down a bartender to get him a glass of water and slyly confiscating the whiskey sour from him when he was too lost in the effort of trying to impress you to notice. You got two cups of water in him before he had even noticed. To be fair, Tyler hadn’t noticed much of anything that night, just that you were beautiful and that he had liked your smile from across the bar. 

Somehow, someway, you had given him your number before he left under the guise of letting you know when he got home safely. It wasn’t a guise on your part, but Tyler had used it as an opportunity to ask you out to brunch, the most innocent sounding of dates, as a way to say thank you for taking care of him. By some grace from something Tyler wasn’t even sure he fully believed in, you had agreed to brunch. He was all but convinced you were going to stand him up, realizing that he was just the mess you’d seen that one night, and that you could definitely do better than him. But you were there when he arrived, put together and so good, so much better than him. You were still there really, since Tyler had shown up fifteen minutes late. 

He didn’t know why, considering you were probably the most beautiful person he had ever been allowed in twenty feet of, but you laughed, you smiled, you enjoyed his company. You told him you did. You were blunt, strong in your beliefs in the face of any test. In all the time Tyler had known you, beginning with your choice to show up on the date even though he was certain everyone in your life who looked out for you told you not to go, you never wavered from your convictions, not even for a second. Your feet were firmly planted in your viewpoints, roots wrapping around each one to hold you in place, strong enough to weather any storm. 

You showed up for a second date, then the third, then Jamie’s birthday party, then to dinner with his mom and sisters. You kept showing up, even as Tyler held his breath, waiting for you to realize that he was so flawed compared to you. You were a future masterpiece and Tyler was at best a work in progress, but it was already so obvious that while you deserved to be hung in a prominent spot in the Louvre when you were finished, Tyler’s top showing might be an abstract college art gallery in a hidden New York alley. But god, did he love getting to be the person who got to stand next to you, seeing each brush stroke of the life you were building in motion. You were the most impressive person he had ever met and you continued to be, every layer of paint containing something else that astounded him and made him feel inferior, like he was tarnishing, borderline ruining, the masterpiece that was you by putting his hands in the wet paint of your life. You swore to him he was only making you better. 

He didn’t know how that was possible, but he trusted your words. Your integrity ran too deep in the foundations of who you were to lie to him. With every addition to your life, your integrity ran through it. You knew exactly the person you wanted to be and you would drag yourself there kicking and screaming if that’s what it took. The depth of your integrity was the thing that made Tyler most terrified, because he barely had any idea of who he was before he met you. He felt like he was standing in the middle of a hurricane that made up his life and he was a sapling among the winds, green and flexible, but with swallow roots, barely sunk in, constantly in danger of being lifted from the soil at the words of shitty friends and strangers on the internet. You were solid, firm, sunk deep into the soil next to him and thank god for that. Tyler wasn’t great at a lot of things when he met you, but he knew he had to hold onto you. If holding onto you was the only thing he ever did right, it would be more than enough. 

Except Tyler felt guilty for doing it, because while Tyler matured with you, his roots growing deeper along with his convictions, he still felt small standing next to you. Sometimes when he got to do his childhood dream of a job, a grown man playing a little kid’s sport, talking shit on the ice, in interviews, in the locker room, he felt like he was wasting the good person you were, like he was wasting your integrity and honor with his own actions. He could give you adventures, fulfill your wildest dreams. He could give you the family you always wanted. He could hold your hand through the worst storms, help you fight off the potential robbers of your happiness. But the storm would always come and the robbers would always be on your doorstep because Tyler was the one pulling them in. His job brought attention, resulting in a chaotic version of your life that you never envisioned for yourself. He could never stop it, only stand next to you as you stood tall in the storm. 

Standing there, with the sun slowly setting behind him, barring down on his neck, his suit felt heavy on his shoulders, but not as heavy as the velvet box in his hands. He’d had it for over a month now. Designing the contents had been easy, arguably fun even for Tyler who had thought it would be like a root canal, but the second the jeweler had handed him the finished product, the doubt started forming, dragging his mind down. Before he held the ring, he felt like he had been floating on the best memories of your relationship, giving him confidence that you would say yes. Those cherished memories kept his mind afloat, far enough away from potential pitfalls to move forward with creating this symbol of your relationship in his hands. But without warning, he was in mental quicksand made up of past fights, the negative outside opinions he has always pushed aside and hoped you did to, and past versions of himself he didn’t like as much, and he felt like he couldn’t get his head above water long enough to find any possible reason you might say yes instead of no. 

But here he was, unable to handle the doubt anymore, velvet box in hand, ready to ask you to marry him because the only way he couldn’t doubt your answer was if he knew it. Tyler bounced on his heels, his new dress shoes creasing with his movements. Why had he gotten new shoes for this? Didn’t he have enough dress shoes? That’s what you asked him when he’d brought them home a week ago, after he finally realized he was going to feel like he was drowning until he asked you. He had waved you off, saying he didn’t have a pair this particular shade, which was a lie. They were black. Shades were a little irrelevant in the realm of black dress shoes. He didn’t know exactly why he had bought them, or why they helped bring him to this point, the park where you’d walked together after your second date, but they had and because of that, he didn’t regret buying yet another pair of black dress shoes. 

He checked his watch again for easily the twentieth time in a tenth of those minutes. You would be walking down the path any moment and this would be real. This was the last moment that Tyler could live in limbo, the last moment of carrying the doubt that was hanging so heavy on his mind, but also the last moment he wouldn’t know if your answer was no. God, what would he do if you said no? He didn’t have a plan for that, for what it would feel like to watch his entire future go blank in one moment, for what it would feel like for his heart to come out of his chest through his throat only to have it tossed aside like yesterday’s newspaper. Tyler shook his head softly and turned the box over in his hands again.

He heard your laugh before you came around the bend and it made him smile. It made him remember exactly why he had started this horrible journey to this moment in the first place; he couldn’t imagine his life without that laugh, without your hair ties scattered across his house, without you standing at the front door every single time he came home from a road trip, no matter the time. Tyler’s breath caught in his throat when you came into view. You looked beautiful every day, but that was his favorite dress, the one from your fourth date, and you were wearing the heels he had bought you for the first birthday of yours he spent with you. As you came closer, he saw the earrings from Christmas this past year and the necklace that matched them that he followed up with for your anniversary a few months ago. There were touches of how he touched your life all over you and it made him feel, for a second, like maybe you might just say yes. 

“Tyler,” you smiled at him softly and he had to let out a long, strained breath to try to get his head on straight, “what is all of this? Jamie didn’t tell me anything.” 

“Yeah, I told him not to,” Tyler laughed a little, trying to expel some of his nerves in his laughter.

“What’s going on, Ty?” you pressed again, taking in the flowers, the candles, and Tyler’s suit, which at least made you feel less like the only person overdressed for a walk in the park.

Tyler didn’t answer with his words. He let his eyes find yours and he thought about how central the woman behind them had become to his entire life. He didn’t have a speech planned. He knew he would have forgotten it anyway. He slowly dropped down onto his right knee and just let the words tumble out of his mouth, just trying to keep the pace somewhere near where you could possibly understand. 

“When I met you, I was someone else. I was a guy who never showed up anywhere on time. I hated mornings and responsibility. I didn’t know who I really wanted to be, let alone how to get there. I didn’t really believe in much of anything, least of all myself,” Tyler started, “but you changed all of that, just by being there. You showed up in my life and didn’t try and change a single thing about me. You showed up and I realized I wanted to be better. You were the catalyst. You started this chain reaction of change that made me realize the person I wanted to be was the person who deserved someone like you.” 

Your hands were covering your mouth as the tears welled up in your eyes. You couldn’t speak so thank god you didn’t have to. You just needed to listen, so you did. 

“I’m still not some perfect guy. I’m a work in progress and I know that. I’m not a hundred percent sure of who I’m going to be, but I know I’m ready to be the best husband to you. You’re the person that I tell everything to, my wildest dreams, my fears, my ups, my downs, my lefts, my rights, but you’re also the only person I can sit in silence with and feel comfortable doing it because I don’t feel alone in silence if you’re sitting next to me in it too,” Tyler continued. 

“I see your brother as my brother, your family as my family. God, I want to create a new family with you so badly, give you that child I know you’ve wanted your entire life. I want to keep you warm during the cold nights. I want to make sure your head stays above water when the blues come in waves. I want to love you in a way that’s only meant for the two of us to ever understand. I want to be your husband. I want to be your husband more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” 

Tyler cleared his throat. The tears falling down your face were mirrored in his eyes now, threatening to spill over. He couldn’t talk if he cried, so he looked up toward the sky, willing the tears to let him finish first. 

“But baby, I can’t ever give you peace. I can give you all of me, my absolute best foot forward every single day, but I can’t give you peace. I can’t give you the quiet, calm life that you deserve.” His voice was cracking and breaking every other word, the pain he felt behind the words hanging onto each syllable unyieldingly. “There’s always going to be people talking shit, saying terrible things about you, about us. We’re always going to have to live behind high walls with narrow gates. The storm is always going to come for you if you’re standing with me and that kills me, because you deserve to feel safe and secure and at peace in your life.”

Tyler wiped his eyes with the back of his hand slowly, letting out a deep, shaky breath as he tried to pull himself back to a place where he could actually ask you what he came here to ask you. He didn’t think it would be this damn hard. He might have tried to practice otherwise.  

“Is it enough?” Tyler asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Would I be enough, even if I can never give you peace? Is my love good enough to overcome that for the rest of your life? I hope so, because I’m asking if it’s enough. I’m asking you, if everything I can offer you is enough to overcome all of that. If it can, let me be your coparent. Let me be your partner. Let me be your husband.”

Tyler opened the velvet box he swore weighed a ton right now and you gasped behind your closed mouth. His mind was too foggy and too anxious to try to figure out if your reaction was positive or negative at this point.

“Will you marry me?”

The words, the four words that had felt like a shackle on his mind for months now, finally came out of his mouth. The doubt was gone. There was no reason for it anymore. Your answer would be what it was and there was nothing Tyler could do or say to change your mind now. Nothing he said in this moment would. If you wanted to marry him, you would’ve decided you did long before you showed up here today. Your answer was fixed long before Tyler’s speech and he knew that now.

Tyler watched you with anxious eyes, taking in the tears sliding down your face, your hands shaking over your mouth. He watched as you slowly took your hands away from your mouth. Your lower lip was quivering not unlike your hands as you slowly fanned your face in an effort to calm your reddened checks and put a dam on the tears that were still flowing. Even if he hadn’t said a word other than those last four tonight, you already knew your answer. 

“Yes, Tyler. Yes.” 

You offered your hand out, watching as his shaking hands clumsily collided with your to slide the ring onto your left hand. Tyler’s arms around you and his mouth on yours happened in a blurb and you melted into his strong chest. Your fiancé. Your future husband.

Tyler was wrong though. He thought he would create endless noise in the background and foreground of your life, robbing you of the ability to live a good, quiet life. But Tyler gave you all of the peace you could ever want in moments like this, where the entire rest of the world drowned out by his warmth and his love, when you were pressed against his chest.

This was peace and it was more than good enough. It was everything you had ever hoped for.

#Tyler Seguin #tyler seguin fanfic #tyler seguin fanfiction #tyler seguin imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl blurbs #nhl imagine #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey imagine #folklore writing series

[ramp-it-up]

Fresh Squeeze, Ch. 5

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall

Set in 2023, post-pandemic

Warnings: Cursing, Angsty Angst, drug and alcohol use, surprise flights, Anthony Ramos. Lots of Plot.

Word Count: 3.5 K

Plot: Linden Marshall just finished law school at Columbia University in NYC. Daveed Diggs is still creating magic with his platonic life partner Rafael Casal in the form of their Blindspotting musical, Bay Boys. Linden’s boyfriend WAS Mark Monaco, star of the superhero movie series Invincible.  They were together for years, and her trauma and his addictions were toxic. She knows now that wasn’t love. 

A/N: Keep in mind that this the same AU as Arrivals, with Holly Woods, but is BEFORE Rafa and Holly get together. And don’t come for me about Anthony.

Read the Previous Chapter.

===================

NYC, May 2023

Jasmine was blowing up your phone as you were trying to get dressed.  You had to search for it under the pile of clothes on your bed.

You had procrastinated getting ready, trying to finish one of your applications for a summer internship at this law firm in Harlem that you were excited about.  

You wanted to finally relax after finishing Columbia law in the top 10% of your class. You just wanted to relax and enjoy this weekend.

Craig, your mom and your uncle were the only ones to attend your graduation.  They knew you didn’t want any fanfare, so your famous friends didn’t attend, and they had a show to do, but they’d sent you tons of well wishes.

We're coming up, get decent!

You chuckled and shook your head. Anthony usually raided the refrigerator when he came over. This time, you told him to bring his own snacks..

You slipped on what you were wearing for the night.  Craig was in his room getting ready and you had volunteered his place, so you were playing hostess. You were surprised that he was so chill about it, actually. 

“Pika Pika,” you said to yourself in the mirror then ran to answer the doorbell. It was almost 6 pm.

You opened the door for Cookie Monster and Big Bird.  You burst out laughing. But you stopped when you saw Anthony's face. He had like five bags from Whole Foods that he was juggling in his blue arms.

"Jazzy!!!! There's my girl.  Hey Ant! leave the food and your girl. We may run off together."

Anthony came in the door loaded down with bags and kissed you on the cheek.  

“I love you Lindy, but fuck you man.” You punched him on the shoulder. 

“Ow! Time to get this party started!”

Linden heard Jazzy’s Brooklyn accent turn into a London lilt as she started play fighting with Ant. They felt like family at this point.

=================

Ever since the launch party in January, Jasmine had pursued you as a friend persistently. You normally didn’t let anyone in because of the circumstances of your life, but Jas was oblivious to your awkwardness with normal human beings.

“Girl, you are fucking DOPE, and you are NOT gonna deny my love.  I know your life has been a trip, and you don’t have to tell me all of it, but I’m not gonna let you shrivel up and be a little retiring wallflower. Life is to be lived.” 

Jasmine telling you that during a Saturday brunch date in February was the key to your heart. She drew you out, and you didn’t see what value you added to her life.

But she loved you anyway. And you loved her, and of course, Anthony was part of the package.  

He was beautiful, loud, talented, and reckless, but he reminded you too fucking much of Dell to be annoyed with him very long.

Your circle had certainly widened from just Craig. That was one thing for which you could thank Mark. You were working on him being a distant memory.  He hadn’t lasted too long in Bay Boys, quitting soon after the musical opened in March.  

Daveed’s hands and feet had ‘slipped’ one too many times during the scene when he was stomping his ass on stage. Mark cited health reasons, and publicly spiraled a bit. He was currently in rehab. 

Again. 

You had not heard from him and that was absolutely fine with you.

Because Jasmine was in Bay Boys and that was her life, the cast and crew became yours as well. Rafael was the type of chaotic creative genius that fascinated you; you could listen to him talk for hours.  

Things with Daveed were more tricky. Ever since that awkwardness with him after the launch party, you’d kept your distance, but you hung out a lot, so you were trying to be friends.

When you and Jas and Ant and Rafa hung out and talked, Daveed was there, smiling shyly and sneaking glances at you, throwing in pearls of wisdom every so often. 

He was so dope and so talented and intelligent and so freaking hot, but you were trying to get yourself together.  You were convinced that night in January had been a mistake. 

You needed some space. And time.  Law school was no joke, and you were in therapy so entanglements was not what was up.

Daveed sensed your hesitancy and decided to stop pursuing you. But he couldn’t stop how he felt.

You were both a little wasted and keyed up the night of the launch party, and despite the way you were beautiful and intelligent and sexy as fucking hell, he was not going to press you. 

Daveed was sure that you two could be something special if you would give it a chance, but he didn’t want to chase you, but he was so gone for you, that if you just nodded your head at him, he would be at your feet.

The attraction was undeniable. There was a crazy little dance you two did that everyone recognized and respected.  This group seemed to know you were fragile, and that you didn’t need to be pushed too far.

But the more they persisted, the more you came out of your shell.  The more you trusted, the more the old Lindy came back. 

Craig noticed first soon after you started hanging with the crew when you were trying to find a place to live. He went to one showing with you and sat you down for a talk.

“Girl, I love the light in your eyes.  I haven’t seen this Lindy since…well in a long time. Stay with me for as long as you want. I know you need to get through this last semester of school, you don’t need one more thing to think about. I’m proud of the work that you’re doing on yourself, Linden.”

You were grateful to Craig.  His place on the Upper West Side was super convenient to Columbia, and not having to think about finding a place was so clutch.  Third year was kicking your ass.

“Besides, I wouldn’t have this place if it wasn’t for…”

“Hush,  I don’t want to hear that.  Dell would have wanted this. I love you cuzzo.” 

=================

Craig came out in a Sully onesie and immediately dragged Jasmine into a conversation about the Met Gala that had happened a few days ago. 

You approached the kitchen where Ant stood, food all around him on the counter. You were whispering. He smiled a secret smile at you.

“I’m so proud of you doing this for Jasmine.  It’s good for you all to get away. I’m glad that she got a little break. She deserves it all.”

Anthony had arranged for this little get together to be a surprise for Jasmine. This was going to be a kickback weekend.

The show was on a four day hiatus while the set was moved to a bigger theatre.  It was a hit and was destined for a long run.

Ant’s green eyes lit up as you kept talking about Jasmine.

“Yeah, she does. And the woman of the hour deserves all the happiness in the world.” He lifted his beer to you.

They way he said that was weird and you were about to ask him what was up with that when the doorbell started ringing, you went to answer it and were stuck there for a few minutes as people started coming in. 

The food and the drinks were flowing while all kinds of characters came in. 

Now they also had Jack Skellingtom, and a Care Bear in the house to add to Big bird, Cookie Monster, Pikachu and Sully. It was an odd cast of characters who were jamming to 90's rap, eating chicken wings and basically tripping like only friends could do.

Then there was Toni, some tag-along chick who showed up with Rafa.  She had on a plain gray onesie.  What a downer.  

You’d  pegged her for  a star fucker who only hung with Rafa because of who he and his friends were.  The girl was too much in everyone's business. 

"Sooooo. You and Mark ARE broken up for real for real. The tabloids say y’all are back together!  I told my friend Susie you weren’t, but she wouldn't believe me."

You  just smiled and didn't confirm or deny, treating Toni like the paparazzi. The girl was oblivious to your hate and just kept talking.

Daveed rescued you. 

"Hey, Toni, show these folks how you can blow. They're setting up the karaoke machine over there. Show us what you're working with. Someone might hook you up with a gig."

Toni perked up and hurried over to Anthony and Craig, who were setting up the lyrics on the big screen to match the karaoke music. Some Bad Boy joints were up.

Rafa was behind them screaming, "Dylan, Dylan, Dylan!" 

They were a scene.  You  breathed and relaxed a little.

"Don't stress. She's not coming with us  to the island."

You looked up at the tall, fine Grumpy Care Bear who was nursing some of your special 18-year-old Chivas Regal that you had gotten for graduation. His beautiful smile shined out of his brown face and beneath the curls tumbling out of his hood. 

“I’m not pressed. I’m chilling. You can do what you want. With who you want.”

“She’s not with me. Rafa brought her for the ride to the airport. And it’s not entirely true that I can do what I want. With who I want. Because what if who I want to do doesn’t want to do me?”

You knew what he meant. But you eyed his drink instead of looking at him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him. That was far from the truth. You didn’t want to get lost in him. And you could see that happening.

Daveed saw your wheels turning. You were over analyzing again.  He’d spent three months observing you every chance he got. He felt like he knew your anxieties.  So fucking smart, but here you were thinking too much.

"Hey Genuis Ass. Want some?" Daveed’s voice was softer as he grinned and offered you some of his drink.  “Or, I could go make you something?” For some reason he wanted you to get loose. 

"Nah, I'm good Diggs.”  For some reason you needed to stay in control.  You played it off by changing the subject. 

“I still can’t believe y’all call me that.” 

Daveed just smiled and nodded, chuckling a little. He craned his neck and looked at it, having to dodge a smack upside the head.

“That ass is genius, you know. That’s the one thing He Who Shall Not Be Named was right about. And you’re one of the smartest humans I know.”  

You had to look at him then. The flecks of gold in his eyes tho.  But you could tell from the slight redness that he was a little zooted.  He didn’t get that way around you a lot, but you knew for the stories that he partied occasionally. 

He and Rafa and that Toni chick must have pre-gamed.  You remembered the last time you two were  tipsy together.You cleared your throat and looked away.

“Why did you lie to that girl? She can’t sing.” You were shaking your head, scowling at Toni’s screeching from the karaoke machine.

He winked at you. D was well on his way to getting LIT.

"What? She can blow.”  Daveed sipped his drink and watched her. 

“She’ll suck your soul out and spit it back in your mouth." Daveed was loose. And so was his mouth. But he didn’t care.

Your mouth was hanging open at Daveed as you wondered what Daveed had done with Toni, what Daveed AND Rafa had done with Toni... 

Shit, you were just going to ask.

"How do you know that she..."

"AWWWW SHEEEIIIITTT! THAT'S MY JAM! REMEMBER THIS LINDY??"

“No, I was like, negative 5..”

You raised your voice as he traveled away from you, smiling. He was not slick.

“Well you missed out being tardy to the party…” 

He was backing toward the mic, knocking it out of Anthony’s hand and starting the rap. Rafa joined him, trading verses.

Now as the record spins around, you recognize this sound,

Well, it's the underground,

You know that we're down with wutchyalike

Yeah, with wutchyalike, yeah

And though we're usually on the serious tip, check it out:

Tonight we're gonna flip and trip and let it all hang out tonight,

We're gonna say what we like.

'Cause, yo, yo, we want to know how many people in the flow,

Would like to just let yourselves go

And doowutchyalike,

Yeah, well tonight's your night.

Just eat food, try not to be crude or rude,

Kill the attitude, chill the serious mood,

And doowutchyalike,

Yeah, and doowutchyalike,

Everybody doowutchyalike

Everyone was dancing and Daveed had effectively deflected your question. But you would never forget.

By 8 o’clock, Craig grabbed the mic and motioned for Jasmine to come with him. You had enjoyed some cocktails finally, and just figured they were going to duet Wind Beneath My Wings just like they always did. 

You were actually moving to the music and feeling good.

"Ok guys, whew.  I'm hot.  Is it hot in herrrre?" Craig was fanning himself.

“Whoooo! Nelly!”

You yelled and everyone laughed.

Craig took his hood off and started to unzip his onesie. Jasmine did the same.

You kept dancing nervously, not realizing it, looking around at the others who were also disrobing. You did a double take as D’s abs came into view.  What was going on?

Craig continued.

"Lindy, I just need a minute to talk, can you stop whatever it is you're doing?"  He grinned at you from across the room. "You're still moving Lindy."

You blushed and stopped fidgeting.

"Ummm, Craig, what the..."

One by one people dropped their onesies, all except Toni, who had no clue what was going on. Soon, everyone was standing in Craig’s condo in their swimsuits, looking fine as hell. 

You just looked around, then in your cup wondering if you were too drunk and hallucinating.

“Lindy, you’ve worked real hard, and this past few months have been crazy, so we wanted to do something special for you this weekend, for your graduation, and for your birthday, WHICH IS SUNDAY!!”

Everyone cheered as Jasmine took the mic. “You think this party is for me. Well the joke’s on you bitch, because you have been hosting your own party!”

You opened your mouth, squeaked a little, then spoke,

"But why?.. Everybody?  But what..."

Daveed moved close.

"Damn, you fine," you whispered. 

Your hand flew to your mouth when he smirked in response. Everyone was rolling because turns out, you didn’t whisper.

Daveed cleared his throat. "Thank you. You’re fine yaseif. Anyway, Anthony and Jasmine have a house there, and we’re flying out of JFK tonight.  In about two and a half hours in fact. So we gotta get going.”

You still had only a part of a clue of what was going on. But you couldn't resist all of this.

"Okay? But... I don't have any clothes. And I don’t have a ticket..."

Craig came from the storage room off the kitchen with one of your suitcases. Others started getting their bags as well

"Everybody's shit has been in my house for a week. And girl, you know I got your information. It ain’t nothing but a thang.  Your ticket is ready and waiting. Just sent it to your email.”

Your mouth dropped open and you stared at Craig as everyone pulled their onesies back up and got their bags together.

Your eyes filled with tears that you hurriedly brushed away. Craig came over and hugged you. Then every else joined in for a group hug.

"You deserve, Lindy. Let us celebrate you."

You looked like you didn't quite believe it, but you went along. You laughed, visibly deciding to go with the flow.

"I'm down!"

Toni was nearby. When the hug broke up, she started asking questions.  Your  patience was wearing thin.

"I don’t believe that all these people really roll like this. Y’all wild. Susie won that bet."

You just continued to look at this fool.

"But isn’t this dope?  All these famous, successful men being so fearless with their love and appreciation for Black women, of all people. Who woulda thunk they didn't want white women?"

Toni just kept saying the wrong thing. It was the "of all people" for you.

You stared daggers at your houseguest. Toni caught the look.

"Wait, are you mixed?"

You narrowed your eyes and said, "Black mixed with Black."

Toni clutched her pearls.

"Oh wow. Didn't mean to offend. I just mean everyone knows Jasmine is mixed, with her dad and all, as black as can be. But her white British mom saved her from his skin tone. I mean, she has braids in now, so you can see it, but all she has to do is blow her hair straight and she can pass..."

Toni jumped when Rafa spoke. She didn't know he was there.

"Toni. Not Jas. She's the homie." 

The look in his ice blue eyes could burn. 

"And you are a Black woman, so you know how dope they are. Why would anyone NOT worship at your feet?"

Lindy just sipped her drink as Craig entered the chat. "Amen!"

"Maybe it is time for you to get going, honey. I might call you when I get back."

Rafa  led Toni to the door as she protested.

"But I was going to take you to the air..."

"And I APPRECIATE you Black woman, but we'll get there.  See you later."

Then Rafa shut the door in her face. Linden discovered she loved him eternally at that moment. She was rolling.

No one mourned Toni’s departure as arrangements were made for cars to take everyone to the airport.

"You and Daveed can ride with us, Rafa." Ant to the rescue.

"Yeah, Jasmine loves to look at my profile." Jas pinched him so hard he jumped.

“Fuck!”

Ant  was screaming as he, Jasmine and Rafa went out the door. 

"Peace! See you at airport security.  If you get nabbed by TSA, you on your own!”

Daveed lingered. “I don’t know if all of us and our bags will fit in one car. Can I ride with you and Lindy, Craig?”

Craig smirked at Daveed, but didn’t say anything. “Of course...you good with that Lindy?”

You tried to keep it light. 

“Sure.. no biggie,” you cleared your throat and headed to the bathroom to make sure you had everything you needed.

=================

By the time you got to your Uber, the traffic was horrible. It took over an hour to get to the airport. You felt both anxious about missing the flight and keyed up about sitting next to Daveed in the car.

His thigh and side pressing into yours in the dark in the back of an Uber Black brought back memories of that reckless night. 

When he put his arm up on the seat behind you, “For more room,” he said, in that voice and flashing that megawatt smile, you were enveloped more into his scent and warmth. You had to control yourself not to melt into him.

Craig was sitting on his phone, sneaking glances at you and smirking the entire ride. He’d insisted that you be in the middle because you were so tiny.

The whole world was against you, you thought, as you and Daveed both stared straight ahead, both flashing back to that January night.

You were the last three people to run through the airline gate just at they were about to close it. All your friends in first class cheered when you took their seats, and Rafa popped a bottle of champagne.

"Talk about cutting it close," Ant commented as Rafa gave Daveed a high five.

Daveed looked at you. You shook your head at him. Somehow, you were sitting next to him. You just decided to let it be and have some time.

“Just make sure you don’t molest me under this blanket, Ms. Marshall,” Daveed intoned when you were settled and given amenities for the night.

The flight attendant had to tell y’all to keep quiet as the cat calls went up.

Welp, you thought. This will be the vibe the entire weekend. 

You weren’t mad at it. You loved these people. And you were safe. You just smiled, settled down, and looked out of the window to watch the lights of New York fade away.

=================

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Tagging:  @braidedchallah @einfachniemand @sillyteecup @commandersmiley @ohsoverykeri-blog  @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @id-do-it-for-free-babe

#Daveed Diggs #daveed x reader #daveed diggs x black reader #daveed diggs x ofc reader #Daveed diggs x ofc black reader #daveed diggs x you #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs angst #daveed diggs fluff #anthony ramos #jasmine cephas jones #Rafael Casal #Hamilfam #blindspotting #Daveed x Linden

[fallingforyou123]

You Will Never Be A God-Une

Warnings: Slight language, implied smut, alight angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Here is the official part one! Hope you'll like it, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Series Masterpost

The sheets hung loosely around her frame, the only thing keeping her from being exposed to the cold air. The stranger laid beside her in a dazed out state, chest rising ever so slowly. A small cloud of smoke engulfed the both of them, a bad habit Stevi had picked up from an ex of hers.

“Those will kill you one day.”

“No more than sleeping with strangers will.”

“Touche.”

Stevi moved to get dressed, keeping quiet to avoid another conversation. Leaving was always bad, but leaving when there was still so much to be said was the worst. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was a feeling, something small sitting in her gut. It worried her, she’d never felt like this with a stranger. So safe and comfortable.

“Stay. Just till the morning, I’ll have my driver take you home.” Came the voice from the other side of the bed.

“No, definitely no. I have rules, no names, no staying. I can’t”

“What a lonely life you must live, to disconnect so much from those around you.”

Stevi looked at him, truly looked at him. He looked so much different than the man she met a couple hours ago. His perfectly gelled hair was nothing more than a brown mess atop his head, his eyes were clouded with a sleepy haze, and his suit had been replaced by a very thin sheet. He looked like someone she could see herself falling for back in university, she had to remind herself that this was a man with a lot of money, someone she’d probably dig up dirt on for an article.

She shook her head, she needed to leave.

After she finished dressing, she grabbed her bag from the front room and slipped out the door. Checking her phone she saw a couple missed calls from Brooke and an enthusiastic ‘be safe!’ text from Poppy. She quickly both, ensuring them that she was not dead in a ditch somewhere, before ordering an uber and hoping in the elevator.

***

The rest of the weekend had gone by in a blur. She’d spent all of Saturday nursing her hangover with ice cream and old reruns of Golden Girls in bed. Then Sunday was brunch with the girls at a little cafe where she was forced to share every detail of the events that unfolded Friday night, only leaving out how weird she had felt in the strangers' company. And then all too soon she was getting ready for a week of meetings and interviews.

Walking into the office, Stevi was greeted by her boss informing her that her 11am was now Stevi’s and ‘oh, look, he’s early.’ She mentally groaned, there was not enough caffeine in the world to make this worth it. Don’t get her wrong, Stevi loved her job, but god did she hate her boss. She was flakey, and whenever anything didn’t appeal to her, she’d simply give it to Stevi with barely any notice. There were far too many nights that she had to stay late because she was given a column to write only hours before it was due.

With a heavy sigh, she walks into the conference room, hoping that this won’t last long. “Good morning, my name is Stevi, I’ll be doing the interview today since Diane couldn’t be here.”

“Rule one.”

She whips her head up towards the man, “What?”

It’s in that moment that she realizes who this is, the man from Friday night. And coincidentally, Tom Holland. She should’ve known the other night who he was, his name and face had been plastered on the bulletin board for weeks, one of their most anticipated interviews this year. Tom was not only a pretty face, but the youngest CEO to be running an international company in decades. His father had started Holland and Co. Publishing almost 30 years ago, and only a few months ago he handed it over to Tom.

“I said, rule one darling. You’ve broken it.” She’d forgotten how lovely that voice was, remembering how captivating it was to have him whispering in her ear.

“I heard what you said, Mr. Holland.”

“Call me Tom, you’ve more than earned that privilege.”

“This is my place of work, not some stupid nightclub, I keep things professional here.”

Neither of them take their eyes off the other, a silent war taking place between the two of them.

“Well, if you’re such a professional, stop looking at me like you’re wanting to fuck me.”

A small gasp leaves Stevi. She stands up to leave, gathering her things, and looks at him with venom in her eyes, “Mr. Holland, I’m afraid that this interview is over, if you would please talk to the receptionist she will reschedule you in with someone other than me.”

A small look of shock crosses Tom’s face before he too stands, reaching out to grab Stevi’s arm, “Wait, I'm sorry. Sit down, I’ll be civil.”

Reluctantly, she does. Placing her notebooks in front of her and pulling out the recorder. Before she begins she gives Tom a warning look, “One word, one single word out of line, and this is over.” To which he nods and sits back, hands folded in his lap, looking like a true business man.

***

The rest of the interview goes by smoothly, only a couple of suggestive looks being thrown her way before he bites his tongue. Stevi’s never been more relieved to finish something in her life, the tension between the two becoming almost unbearable as the interview went on. “Okay, I think that’s all we need for the article, a draft will be sent to your assistant to go over before we publish it in next week's business column.”

Stevi stands quickly, ready to put everything behind her and spend the rest of her day hiding in her office. Before she can leave, a hand is wrapped around her arm once again, and body right behind her. “Let me take you to dinner, darling. A reward for being good.”

The voice in her ear sends a shiver down her spine, and for a second she debates it, “Tom, I can’t. I don’t mix business with pleasure, this is already a conflict of interest.”

“More of those damn rules. Live a little, let your guard down for once.” He looks at her with pleading eyes, something that makes him look more like his true age. That feeling sneaks its way back into again, and for a moment, while she stares into his eyes, nothing else exists. Just the two of them and a world of possibilities.

“If I say yes, this stays between us. The people we are here, and the people we are then are not the same. My job may not seem dangerous to you, but it could be very bad for me if someone gets the wrong idea.”

Tom nods, he knows all too well what she means. “Tonight at 7, meet me at The Garden on 22nd, I’ll make the reservation.”

She agrees, lets him put his number in her phone, and gives Tom one last smile before heading down the hall to her office.

She jumps when she sees someone sitting at her desk, “James, what are you doing here?”

“What, can’t check in on my favourite captain?”

“Not without a secret agenda, and last I checked, I have nothing to report to you, I’m off duty.” Stevi walks towards him, pushing his legs off of her desk.

“Ah, sweetheart, you’re never off duty. Not when you’re talking to men like that.” James points out the door, to where Tom can be seen talking to the receptionist.

“That is none of your business, James.”

“I want details, everything you can find out about him, on my desk by Friday, you know what’ll happen if it’s not. Have a good day Stevi.” And with that, James walks out of the room, leaving a chill hanging in the air.

Stevi suddenly can’t breathe, the four walls surrounding her feeling like a cage. She quickly grabs her things and walks to Dianes’ office, telling her there’s a family emergency and she’ll work on the article at home. Within minutes she’s scrambling to get into her car, dialing Poppys’ number, needing someone to calm her down.

She spends the rest of the day on Poppys’ couch trying to recover from her near mental breakdown. This life was never something she wanted, she’d been dragged into it by her ex. After he failed to complete a simple task, he was killed in their apartment, and she was responsible for finishing it out. But it’s never that simple, one task turned into two, and then four, and now she was too far in to be able to leave.

All too soon, it was 6:30 and she was leaving for her date with Tom. She’d left Poppys an hour ago, promising her that there was nothing to worry about, it had just been a bad day. She drove in silence, not wanting to focus on anything but the road. She got to the restaurant right on time, quickly being seated in one of the private rooms. She’d been here once before with her parents when she first moved to the city. They’d taken her out to celebrate and they’d spent the night drinking fancy wine and eating more food than they could’ve ever imagined.

Lost in her memories, she didn’t realise how much time had passed since she’d arrived. Checking her phone she saw that it was now quarter past, and no sign of Tom. She tries texting him, thinking maybe he’d gotten off of work late. By 7:30 she starts to panic, she’s 2 glasses of wine in and still no sign of him. To no avail, she calls him, worry turning into anger when it goes straight to voicemail.

It’s almost 8 when the waiter informs her that Tom has called, he won’t be making it, but to order whatever she likes and he’ll pay for it.

And so she sits there, wine glass in hand, wishing she’d never even met Tom.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland x oc #mob!tom holland x reader #tom holland and co

[peaches-writes]

how to appease your asian aunties ch. 1 - christmas

description: in the immortal words of wine aunts and aunts you’re not even related to but forced to call your aunt at gatherings, ‘do you have a boyfriend?’ member: jisung / han genre: fluff, fake dating au, implied rich kids au, eventual childhood / best friends to lovers au, college au, implied fem reader (but i still used they/them pronouns) word count: 7.5k chapter warning: food, drinking, explicit language, one comment about weight note: insp by a twt meme + this is my first attempt at making a story with parents having a bigger role in them omg

ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist

Though you’re a semester away from graduating college, with your own circles of friends, clubmates, and close classmates, you still can’t understand why your mom and her sorority batchmates feel the need to have reunion parties every single year. Maybe it’s the product of growing connectivity in this modern age or just simply your wide age gap preventing you from having the same nostalgic feelings attending these dinners; nevertheless, ever since your mom started bringing you to these parties to socialize with her friends’ children when you were four, you've always personally found it a bit troublesome. 

They see each other at mall sales, weekend brunches, weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries all the time—a lot of them even work closely with each other. For as long as you can remember, you can’t help but endlessly wonder in this time of year: will they ever get tired of each other?

As you adjust your coat over your semi-formal attire for this year’s dinner party, you sigh in front of the full-length mirror by your house’s front doors and mentally conclude that they probably never will. This is your 19th reunion dinner now and even from meters away in the kitchen, you can hear your mom fuss to your dad and the helpers either worriedly about the desserts that everyone in the house (and your nearest restaurant branch) was forced to bake two nights ago; or excitedly about seeing her college best friend, Mrs. Hwang, even if they literally just dragged their respective families to the monthly brunch last weekend—like she always does minutes before you leave. She always sounds like a crazed woman but you know deep inside that she’s excited to see her friends again and reminisce about the same old college memories you’ve even memorized by heart now.

It’s cute and all, maybe you’ll even end up the same in a decade or so but you swear at present on the dinner menu tonight that the more you spend your first day of Christmas break attending these dinners, the more you’ll slowly lose your mind over this unofficial holiday tradition: from your mom’s dramatic ramblings at the start of the night to the prospect of spending the rest of the evening laughing off your unofficial aunts and godmothers’ unnecessary backhanded comments and trying not to get caught in the trouble the younger children make.

It really just isn’t exactly your type of scene. It’s like family Christmas parties but with more passive-aggressive internalized drama since you’re not related to any of the guests by blood.

“Y/N, dear, come along now, we’re running late!” Your mom scolds you as she approaches your direction to the double doors, carrying cupcake caddies and cake boxes with your dad and your six house helpers. She’s wearing the dress you helped pick out last month, you observe, which is another tradition of hers. Rich people and not wanting to be seen wearing the same clothes twice, you guess. “Oh dear, I need to fix my hair in the car!”

You take one last look at yourself in the mirror before sprinting to the doors and helping your dad open them. You also take a couple of boxes from one of the helpers as you all pile outside, letting everyone pass through before closing the doors behind you. 

The nine of you then head to your dad’s Ford you parked outside the house gates earlier this afternoon, loading the everything in the back of the car without much difficulty before parting ways with the helpers for tonight with the same house instructions from your mom to not wait up for the three of you.

“Bye!” Your mom waves at your helpers through the rolled down windows on the front passenger seat as your dad begins to drive away from the house. 

Once your house begins growing smaller in the distance behind you, only then does your mom attend to her hair while your dad closes all the windows and locks the doors.

You, on the other hand, lean back in your own seat, taking out your phone to pass the ten minutes travel time to one of your godmothers, Mrs. Kim’s house in the adjacent subdivision.

“Y/M/N! Y/F/N! Welcome!” Mrs. Kim greets you at her house gates with her own mini army of house helpers, kindly helping you and your parents unload your party contributions and transfer them inside her recently renovated kitchen. “Oh, Y/N! Look at you, you look so beautiful tonight!”

You smile politely through the wave of compliments and ‘oh you gained a bit of weight’ comments that follow as you try your best to not to trip over the slippery marble steps leading to the house. Contrary to what your mom has been worrying about earlier at home, you eventually discover that you’re fairly early to the party for the 19th year in a row with only half of the families already in attendance to greet you when you entered the house.

“Y/N, all the teenagers are upstairs on the second floor, by the way.” Mrs. Kim informs you once your cupcakes have been neatly organized in the caddies at the very end of the buffet table, making you cringe internally at her preferred term for you and the other older kids in the house. “Dinner is at 7:30.”

“Thank you, auntie.” You smile one last time at her before excusing yourself to go upstairs, sighing internally in relief that her son, Seungmin, has smartly gathered everyone upstairs for the third year in a row to avoid the aunts and uncles for as much as possible.

You’re not completely fond of the parties, sure, but you can’t deny that there are little parts that have unconsciously grown on you—like your unlikely band of childhood friends and your shared hatred for this particular party.

Climbing up the slippery staircase as fast as you can with a death grip on the railings, you reach the second floor in no time to be greeted by six out of the eight people you’ve sort of grown up with in these parties occupying the common area: Felix and Hyunjin having a Wii dance battle in front of the television, Seungmin and Minho having a violent game of UNO on the coffee table, and Ryujin and Yeji scrolling through their phones on the sofa before abandoning them to approach you at noticing your presence by the staircase.

“Y/N!” Ryujin calls you in as she reaches you first for a brief hug and a short exchange of compliments on each other’s outfits, as if you didn’t just meet at one of your shared class’ Christmas parties yesterday. Though all of you attend the same university, you see Ryujin the most since you’re in the same college, just in different departments. “So nice to see you again!”

“Yeah, yeah, hello to you too again.” You chuckle, more genuinely now in the company of party guests you’re actually comfortable with, before waving hello at Yeji who trails behind. 

Yeji then naturally hugs you next, pulling you a few steps away from the staircase so the two of you don’t topple over when she leans her weight on you. “Y/N, took you long enough!” She says next to your ear. “Hyunjin and I were starting to make bets if the aunties suddenly trapped you downstairs like Chan and Miyoung.”

You hug her back with equal force, a little more than you did with Ryujin, pulling away after to playfully slap her arm for the teasing comment. “I’d sell my arm first before I let that happen.” You retort as the two of you laugh. “I just helped set up desserts—mom made us do an extra two boxes of brownies and cookies this year so you better get a lot later!” 

“Of course, but only if you eat a lot of the spaghetti my mom made!” She reminds, kindly fixing your hair for you. “I missed you! You look so pretty tonight!”

Behind the two girls, the boys also greet you in scattered casual ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s before going back to their own activities. You greet them back as they acknowledge you (and even reciprocate Felix’s long-distance high five mid-dance), crossing off everyone’s names in your mental attendance list as your gaze wanders around the room.

Since Chan is busy being a grown-up and showing off his fiance downstairs, you conclude that only one person is missing among your eight friends.

“Ya, Han Jisung!” As if on cue, the missing eighth person in your list emerges from the staircase behind you as Minho calls his name. “Welcome back!” 

Jisung greets everyone back in their second wave of scattered greetings as he walks to Minho and Seungmin’s direction, purposely acknowledging you last by suddenly turning around and walking backwards to send a wave and wink your way. He almost trips over the long ruffles of the big accent carpet as he does this, making you, Yeji, and Ryujin laugh as the only witnesses.

“Oh my God.” You place a hand to your forehead in secondhand embarrassment, stifling your laughs as your best friend regains his balance and looks behind him in case anyone else saw (which, unfortunately for you, they didn’t). You can’t believe that despite missing last year’s party because of his study abroad program’s strict schedule, he still manages to do his ritual clumsy carpet accident somehow. “This dumbass, I swear.”

In front of you, Jisung only laughs it off as well. “You didn’t see that!” He adjusts his coat with one hand and scratches the nape of his neck with the other in between laughs, walking forward to you properly after with his arms extended for a hug. “Stop laughing and come here, ugly. I missed you.” 

You feign a scowl but hug him back anyway, Yeji and Ryujin slyly stepping away with knowing smiles that only you can see with Jisung’s eyes turned away. You stick your tongue out at the two girls as they abandon you and walk back to the sofa before slapping Jisung’s back harshly for the familiar insult. “Speak for yourself, you ugly. I missed you too.” You reply to his latter comment with an amused chuckle of your own. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’m seeing you in person again.” He pulls away after with his signature flirty smirk, visibly eyeing you up and down now while his hands are still on your upper arms. Though he knows such gesture irks you, especially when it comes to the aunts and uncles downstairs, Jisung is the only one among your friends confident enough to tease you this way. Knowing each other a bit longer than everyone else has its perks, he’s come to realize over the years. “Look at you, all dressed up tonight. For me?” 

“Of course I’m all dressed up tonight, it’s Chan’s engagement announcement later.” You retort, swatting his hand away to adjust your now wrinkled clothes. “You’ve known me for twenty years, already; I think it’s time to stop assuming I’ll ever dress up for you now.” 

He only shakes his head, his teasing and lighthearted mood unwavering in front of you. “Nah, I really think you dressed up for me tonight.” He insists jokingly, a hand lingering over the fabric of your coat. “If I get welcome back parties like this from you in the end, should I just do more one-year study abroad programs?” 

“And leave me to fend off the aunties every other year? I don’t think so.” You’re quick to turn down, walking pass him to rejoin your group now. Jisung naturally follows along like a lost puppy, suddenly changing his mind on joining Minho and Seungmin to follow you around now that you’ve started conversation. “You owe me for leaving me to take all the ‘I can set you up on a blind date with my godchild’ and ‘are you dating anyone’ comments last year.”

The two of you sit next to Ryujin and Yeji who, without even looking up from their phones, quickly scoot away to the other end of the big sofa which makes you send pleading looks their way while Jisung laughs and gains enough confidence to sling an arm on the sofa behind your shoulders.

Another annoying thing from this yearly reunion party is how it’s an unspoken rule in your group to leave you and Jisung alone whenever you’re engaging in your usual banter. You and Jisung are the enemies type of best friend, for God’s sake. You don’t understand how everyone (yes, even Seungmin) thinks the two of you are being cute. 

“I keep telling you, you wouldn’t get all those comments if you just tell them you’re dating someone, dummy.” Jisung returns to your conversation once you’re settled, purposely placing a suggestive emphasis on the pet name. “That’s just the most natural thing to do in front of the aunties.” 

“And who would I show them if they ask who?”

“Try me.” Jisung answers smugly, earning him an eye roll from you.

“As if.” You deadpan, leaning to his arm anyway as you take out your phone and connect to the wifi. “Given your new fuckboy look to the aunties, I’m pretty sure they’ll see past that kind of bullshit, especially Yeji and Hyunjin’s mom and Minho’s mom. They’d be more convinced if I tell them I’m dating Seungmin instead and he’s already in a relationship.”

You don’t even have to look to your side to see Jisung pouting as he whines in complaint, his free hand going up to your side to shake your arm. “That hurts.” He dramatically points to his chest when you show the slightest hint of turning his way. “And having Bumble on your phone isn’t being a fuckboy, I don’t even use it to get dates.” 

“That’s not what the aunties think.” You point out, knowing just how much your aunts and uncles easily misunderstand concepts from your generation like social and dating apps. “I’m telling you, I prefer you swaying the conversation for me over you pretending to be my boyfriend.”

Jisung is quiet for a moment and you’re convinced that he’s decided on ending the conversation at this point until he suddenly twists his body towards you and challenges, "Do you wanna bet? Test out that theory?” He smirks again. “It’d really spice up this party, besides Chan’s announcement, of course.”

Only then do you look up at him since you sat down, deadpanning, “No.” 

“Come on, it’d be really interesting!” He taps you on your shoulders with a laugh, a combination of habits he always does whenever he’s trying to involve you in his usual trouble-making antics. “My mom will finally get off my back for always nagging me as a ‘fuckboy’ and our mom’s sorority friends will finally get off yours for not dating.” 

“You’re crazy.” You comment, crossing your arms in front of him. “I think I’ll just re-download Bumble too and bring someone to the party next year.” 

“You’re really taking too much jabs at my heart right now,” He sighs with a contrasting smirk. “and we’re not even past dinner yet.” 

“Because you deserve it,” You chuckle back at him, pretending to punch him on his stomach which he reacts to dramatically. “I’ve always known you’re a dumbass but that’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard from you.” 

Stubborn, he shakes his head in disagreement as you speak. “Nah, nah, we’ll see about that.”

And as if on cue, Mrs. Kim emerges from the staircase and announces that dinner is ready, luring everyone out of the second floor before you can even ask Jisung what he means with his words. 

“Ya, Han Jisung!” You call for him when he sprints to Seungmin’s side when the latter begins leading everyone downstairs. 

You try catching up to him but the staircase becomes too narrow for you to squeeze past everyone, forcing you to walk with Minho and Ryujin at the back of the group. With this, Jisung then takes this as an opportunity to look up at you from the turn on the staircase and send you another wink, a more confident one this time since he doesn’t trip after. 

Your ‘age group,’ as the aunts differentiate you from the younger children, hogs the extensive buffet and steals the best table in the backyard, near the karaoke machine so you can stop the uncles from singing too much of ‘My Way’ once they get drunk later on and as far away from the children’s table as possible so you don’t have to be obligated to take care of them later on. Chan, the eldest among you now, joins your table with his fiance, Miyoung, after they’ve officially declared their engagement before the buffet opened, happily handing out their save the date cards for their May wedding.

“Just remember, Miyoung, that you can literally get all your wedding needs from us, okay?” Yeji comments amidst all the talk about the wedding, gesturing to everyone as you eat and drink champagne. “Like Y/N and Seungmin for catering, Ryujin for the attires, Felix for your honeymoon trip, me and Hyunjin for the flowers and documentation, and Jisung can dress up as a clown for your reception.” 

“Ya!” Jisung protests to your left, cheeks full of steak and spaghetti that makes the whole table erupt in laughter. “Chan’s and Minho’s studios can arrange the music and the decor; my mom will probably argue with Miyoung’s mom for the locations and hotels.” 

“I can just tell my dad to hire you as a clown, though.” Minho shrugs nonchalantly, further fueling your laughter. To your right, you can even see Miyoung giggling through her glass of champagne, having given up on stifling her laughs. “It’d make good entertainment.” 

Jisung then leans over to you to turn to Miyoung on your other side with a pout and a pleading look to her and Chan. “You two are just letting them drag me like this?” He whines dramatically before turning to you. “Y/N, back me up here.”

“No!” You press a finger up to his forehead and playfully push him back on his seat. “It’s a great idea, what are you talking about?” You tease as you do so, much to more whines from him. “There’s like five months before the wedding, think about it.”

Next to you, Miyoung forces herself to stop laughing, teasingly asking Chan, “Babe, what do you think? Should we just demote Jisung from groomsman to clown?” 

“I’d very much prefer being a groomsman, please.” Jisung asks over Chan, leaning over the table. “I can’t compete with Changbin for best man but as long as I’m not dressing up as a clown I’m good!” 

“Hey, how come Jisung’s a groomsman?” Seungmin complains from across you, frowning cutely at the couple. “Miyoung, I’m your cousin! I introduced you and Chan in university!” 

“You’re a groomsman too, Minnie, don’t worry.” Miyoung reassures with a warm smile before elbowing her fiance. “As long as you can get your parents to cater with Y/N’s family.” 

The offer makes Seungmin’s ear perk up in interest. “Okay, call!” 

“Can we all be in the wedding party at this point? I’m seriously pushing it now, I want to dress up really cute!” Yeji, who sits on Chan’s other side, pleads. 

“Me too! I second that!” Felix backs her up immediately, the two now leaning over the table expectantly in Chan’s direction. “Though I’m not so keen on designing things.”

“Ah, but we have to make more room for actual relatives.” The groom-to-be in question laughs sheepishly. “Though, knowing our parents, I’ll try to squeeze everyone in somewhere in the program. Just let us iron out everyone’s contributions first.” 

“Yeji, I’ll take note of your suggestion, though.” Miyoung points at the younger girl with an appreciative grin. “I’ll message the groupchat once Chan and I meet up again with the planner.” 

Meanwhile, Chan’s last comment gives you and Minho an idea and the two of you suggest in chorus, “Get Seungmin to sing!” 

“Jinx!” You and Minho exchange winks and long distance-high fives from Jisung’s two sides after while Chan and Miyoung ask Seungmin about said idea, making Jisung pout at you. 

The general table conversation then naturally flows to other matters, mostly about the famous names you might be expecting at the wedding, but Jisung doesn’t participate much anymore, turning to you instead and asking, “Ya, are you cheating on me with Minho now? You sacrifice me as entertainment then back Minho up but not me!” He rambles in between mouthfuls of food, making you and even Minho chuckle in amusement despite the latter being in another conversation with Ryujin and Seungmin. “I just left for one year and you’re already doing this to me!” 

“What are you on about again, dumbass?” You roll your eyes with a scoff, stealing a piece of steak from his plate for the third time this dinner. “Finish your food, everyone’s done and you’re so slow!” 

Jisung then belatedly swats your chopsticks away, “I’m almost done, dumbass, stop mooching off my plate!” 

"Then hurry up, you still have to accompany me to the dessert table.” You point out, referring to your least favorite part of this reunion parties: getting attacked by invasive questions on your return trip to the buffet table. “Remember, you owe me. I’m not going in there alone again.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He replies on his last two bites of food, eating one then handing the other one to you. “Have the other one, then.” 

He pokes your lips with the last piece of steak and you instinctively lean your head away, catching the food with your own chopsticks instead. “Thanks.” You bring the food to your mouth before carefully patting the oil he ended up smearing on your lips with your table napkin. 

Across the table and out of your earshot, Yeji elbows Hyunjin and points to the two of you. “They’re at it again.” 

Without you or Jisung looking, Hyunjin looks at the two of you in feign disgust. “I know, every damn year.” 

On Hyunjin’s other side, Seungmin nods frustratingly in agreement which makes Yeji laugh. “We shouldn’t have taken last year for granted, 'no?” He sighs. “Last year was so peaceful without them together.”

“Agreed.” The Hwang cousins agree in chorus before listening to the table’s general conversation again.

Meanwhile, Jisung finally finishes his food and excuses the two of you from the table to get dessert. Miyoung waves at you politely and Felix playfully orders that you two get him cupcakes but the rest only acknowledge you with simple nods as they’re completely engrossed in betting on whose dad will be singing My Way on the karaoke machine first (everyone’s in the middle of betting on Mr. Bang). With that, you and your best friend then take your leave, going back inside the house and making a beeline to the kitchen.

Unfortunately for you, you catch your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang gossiping by the punch bowls once you reach the kitchen’s open doorway—literally the worst combination of sorority aunts to be bombarded with invasive questions.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath loud enough for only Jisung to hear, the two of you still out of the three women’s sights. Looking up at Jisung with pleading eyes, you ask, “Should we just go back later?” 

Quickly seeing this as an opportunity to get back at you, Jisung only smiles evilly and links his hands with yours, dragging a hesitant you inside the kitchen and towards the direction of the dessert table. “No, let’s get dessert now, baby.” He dismisses your silent pleas teasingly, making sure his voice is loud enough to get your worst nightmare of trio’s attentions. “Felix also asked us to get cupcakes too, remember?”

And like vultures, the three women immediately turn to you and Jisung as you head in their line of vision, three different shades of questioning looks on their faces. You especially catch your mom’s face, a mixture of surprise, amusement, and genuine curiosity for some reason, which sets all the gears in your head into panic mode while Jisung only gains more confidence from this. 

You swear at that moment on Jisung’s sort of untied shoelaces that you just want Mrs. Kim’s new kitchen floor tiles to swallow you up right there and then.

“Hey, mom!” Jisung greets his own mom with a wave, coming off as sweet to her but mocking to you. He then bows politely to your mom and Mrs. Hwang and you’re forced to follow along for the sake of courtesy. “Mrs. Y/L/N, Mrs. Hwang.” 

The three women look at each other curiously, as if in a silent debate on what they’ve just heard, while Jisung pretends to be unfazed, passing you a dessert plate and examining tonight’s dessert options. 

“Jisung, I swear to God,” You hiss at him as you take a slice of chocolate cake for him. “I’m going to kill you after this party.” 

He leans close to your ear while gathering cupcakes on a separate dessert plate, whispering, “I think it’s too late for that, though.” before your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang suddenly appear in front of the two of you on the other side of the buffet table with sickeningly sweet smiles, and a million questions. 

You especially fear Jisung’s mom. Mrs. Han and your mom often go to the mall together, especially when there’s an ongoing sale, and you’ve been forced to carry all their shopping bags over the years because Jisung and his older brother usually bail on you. Though she’s very sweet, you’ve always known her to be very picky on some things and it just makes you think that she’s picky on who Jisung dates too. 

“Mom,” You call for your mom with wide eyes. “Do you need anything?” 

But she waves her hand dismissively with a reassuring smile at your question. “Oh, nothing, Y/N dear,” She answers, eyes darting almost threateningly between you and Jisung. It makes your hand shaky as you now complete your tower of dessert plates. “your aunties and I were just talking and we didn’t mean to but we saw you and Jisung so we just got curious and thought we’d ask how the two of you are.” 

“Oh, just ask them already!” Mrs. Hwang exclaims excitedly, slapping your mom’s arm like a school girl. “If you won’t, I will.”

But Mrs. Han is already leaning over the table with a knowing smile, straightforwardly asking, “Are you two kids dating?” which immediately makes your mom and Mrs. Hwang erupt into fits of giggles. “Come on, the aunties want to know!” 

“Oh, um—” You stammer out before Jisung beats you to it. 

For the second time tonight, you feel Jisung’s arm on your shoulder as he speaks over you confidently, “Y-Yeah, we’ve been for a while now!” He then places his dessert plate back on the table and boyishly rubs the nape of his neck which only elicits swooning reactions from the three women, a complete contrast from your expectations a while back. “Just some time before my program ended so it’s been a bit long-distance for the most part.” 

“Oh? But how?” Mrs. Hwang asks curiously. “I didn’t hear of you going to Malaysia this year, Y/N, and Jisung, your mom told me you didn’t have time to go home!”

“You could’ve just told me, Sungie! Then, I would’ve had you sent home earlier if you wanted to see Y/N!” Mrs. Han adds as well, clasping her hands in satisfaction. “I knew this was coming! You two have always been so cute together!” 

Your mom agrees, “Luckily, I refused Mrs. Park’s offer to set Y/N up with another one of her nephews a while back. Had I known you two were dating, I wouldn’t have talked to her tonight at all!”

You open your mouth to try and speak but Jisung beats you to it again. “We’ve been in touch: message, calls, and video calls, you know.” He half-shrugs casually, as if he’s been rehearsing the line for a while now. “It’s our first time meeting since we started seeing each other so telling you guys just kind of flew past us.” 

You groan internally but you also can’t help but sigh in relief at the prospect that you avoided getting set up by Mrs. Park again because of Jisung. Though this doesn’t completely erase your annoyance over him for putting you in this situation, you still owe him a ‘thank you’ after somehow.

So, you conclude that you should just follow along. It’s fake dating your best friend over another pointless blind date at this point now, after all. “You’re okay with this, right?” You decide to ask in a follow-up, pretending to not know that they’ll agree anyway. Next to you, Jisung’s eyes visibly widen and, seeing it from the corner of your eyes, you quickly elbow him in response before giving your most innocent look to your mom. “I mean, Jisung won’t be studying abroad now and we’re graduating, anyway, so it’s cool, right?”

Judging by their softened reactions, you feel like you could challenge Hyunjin to acting now. 

“Of course we’re okay with it!” Your mom answers first, Mrs. Han nodding along happily. “I’m glad that it’s someone I know at least and I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind.” 

You hear Jisung gulp nervously at the last comment. If you’re afraid of his mom, he’s afraid of your dad because of the one time he helped you practice for your driver’s license and the two of you almost ended up crashing the Ford on your subdivision’s club house. You allow yourself to relax and laugh at this, making him tighten his grip on your shoulder. 

“Me too, sis.” Mrs. Han agrees, gesturing over to her son. “My Jisung here’s been going on dates with strangers online before this so I’m glad he’s finally stopped and settled for your kid! Modern love, huh?” 

“Oh my God, mom!” Jisung whines, his free hand coming up to his face in embarrassment. “I’ve told you before, I use them to meet friends! Not in front of Mrs. Y/L/N and Y/N please!” 

“Ay, it’s the same thing!” His mom insists to him before turning to Mrs. Hwang and your mom. “Social apps, dating apps, they’re all the same. Why do you even use them if you’re just going to fall in love with the person right in front of you? I taught you better than that, Sungie.” 

“Mom!” Jisung hisses, cheeks tinted pink. “This is so embarrassing!” 

You snicker next to him, catching his attention. “Your mom’s right, you know. Tsk, dating people from miles away and you just end up confessing to me on FaceTime.” 

He scowls at you in a way that scolds you for suddenly turning this situation in your favor. You only smile triumphantly at him which the three aunties take as a really sweet moment. 

“Aw, look at them! So cute!” Mrs. Hwang gushes before turning to her two best friends. “Should we just leave them alone now? We’re intruding!” 

“Right! It’s especially embarrassing since we’re both here, Mrs. Han.” Your mom agrees, leading the three out now. She then turns to you and Jisung, “I guess we’ll be off now, then? Don’t want to intrude to you two lovebirds anymore!” 

You smile up to your mom, making sure Jisung does too. “It’s fine, mom, we’re going back to our table now too, anyway.”

But Mrs. Han waves her hand dismissively at you. “No, no, we’ll run along now first! See you later, okay?” 

You and Jisung bid your moms and Mrs. Hwang goodbye, overhearing your mom bragging that she’ll share this new information to Mrs. Park while Mrs. Han and Mrs. Hwang agree before the three completely exited the kitchen. 

Once they’re out of earshot, you sigh in relief and elbow Jisung harshly who responds by dramatically taking a step back and massaging his side. “Ow!” He winces, careful not to hit the dessert table. “What was that for?” 

“I told you to drop the fake dating thing a while back.” You protest, threatening to hit him with your plate of chocolate slices. “Now I have to have you at home more often. I’ve already had enough of you at campus, here, and when your mom visits at home.”

“Ya, but you played along!” 

“That’s because I was put on the spot! And they did mention another blind date from Mrs. Park’s army of nephews.” You explain. “It was between you and another blind date.”

“At least I got you out of another potential blind date, right?” He points out defensively, proceeding to put your hand with the chocolate slices down on the table with caution. “And more effectively now than before, too! So why’d you hit me?”

“Yeah, I know but still, that doesn’t cancel out how you got me out of that.” You frown in disappointment, taking both of your dessert plates now. When he holds his hand up defensively, as if expecting you to throw them to his face, you only roll your eyes and walk past him to the direction of the second kitchen exit. “Now, I have to fake date you for real either until Mrs. Park lays off the blind dates or until I actually date someone.” 

Jisung immediately follows you suit, genuinely rubbing the nape of his neck in a bashful way now. “We don��t have to, maybe they’ll forget about it.” But when you give him a pointed look, as if suggesting that what he just said seems unlikely, he ends up suggesting, “Okay, fine, should we break up after Chan’s wedding, then?”

He then glances over at you to see you contemplating and calming yourself down so he instinctively insists on carrying the dessert plates for you, walking a little bit ahead as well and opening the screen door leading back to the backyard. 

When you’ve made yourself calm down and think more rationally, you firstly point out, “That’s too far away and wouldn’t that be too scandalous? It’s a big event so it could become gossip.” 

Passing the entire length of the backyard now, you receive a few congratulations and questions confirming your relationship from some of your mom’s sorority friends and their husbands, forcing Jisung to hold his thought until you’re not being swarmed again. 

“But if we do it before, it’d be too suspicious since we’d only be dating for less than 6 months.” He counters once the adults have left you alone, glancing ahead and seeing your entire table looking at you with quirked up eyebrows and comically intimidating looks. “Remember when my older brother did that as a joke to the aunties and got caught because they only did it for 3 weeks? They smell fear and deceit, Y/N.”

You sigh in defeat, “Let’s just figure it out later.” With that, you reach your table, setting your plates down and asking, “What did we miss?”

Judging by the way they eye you, your mom has probably told Mrs. Kim who’s gone table to table. 

“It’s fake, isn’t it?” Ryujin speaks up once you’ve settled back in your seat, making the table break character and laugh. “It can’t be a coincidence since you two were just talking about that a while ago inside!” 

“Please be fake.” Seungmin adds, gesturing to you and Jisung. “It’d be more annoying for all of us next year if it’s true.” 

You and Jisung, having the same thought and trust for your friends, nod simultaneously at Ryujin’s question, eventually joining in on the laughter. 

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’d actually try that!” Ryujin cackles, a clear giveaway that she and Yeji were eavesdropping on you and Jisung a while back to a degree.

“To be clear, though, it’s his fault!” You add in between laughs for clarification, pointing to Jisung with your dessert spoon. “He started it!” 

“And they were about to get set up on a blind date by Mrs. Park again.” Jisung gestures to you back, completing the thought. “I was being a good Samaritan.”

“Ooh, and what did they say?” Felix asks curiously, one elbow propped up on the table as he listens intently. 

Jisung groans in exasperation as he eats his chocolate cake. “We bumped into my mom, Y/N’s mom, and Mrs. Hwang so you can imagine how they reacted.” 

“I can imagine, especially our mom.” Hyunjin sighs with his hands carding through his hair in secondhand embarrassment. 

“At least now we know where you inherited certain qualities from.” Chan teases, making the younger boy exclaim ‘ya!’ at him. 

“This is good, though isn’t it?” Yeji asks curiously over her iced tea. “I mean, Mrs. Park’s wouldn’t set you up on blind dates now.”

“Yeah, but that leaves me as Ms. Park’s only target!” Ryujin moans in frustration. “You know Mrs. Park doesn’t get convinced with dating people online!” 

You shake your head at Ryujin’s complaint. “Yeji can fake date you, though.” You point out, much to the girl’s annoyance. “Or ask out that girl from our lab.”

“So, does this mean we’re getting a dramatic break-up at Chan and Miyoung’s wedding?” Hyunjin interjects, having moved from playing with his now long hair to his glass of champagne. “Because if so, then you better tell us now so we won’t get too drunk at the reception until it happens!”

“I honestly want to see that happen too.” Seungmin agrees, the two high-fiving at the thought.

“That’d be interesting, breaking up at weddings.” Minho chuckles along now too. “People usually propose or hook-up so this is new.” 

“Hey, no stealing my spotlight on my wedding!” Miyoung complains playfully to you and Jisung this time. “We’re all supposed to have a good time there!”

Chan nods in agreement. “If you break up at our wedding, you’re getting kicked out.” 

So you shake your head reassuringly in between eating cupcakes. “We aren’t planning to.” 

“You’re going to date for real?” Felix asks teasingly, earning him a glare form you.

“Gross, no.” You and Jisung turn down the thought in chorus.

“Jinx.” Jisung adds, stealing a spoonful of cake from your plate.

“So when are you breaking up?” Chan asks, leading the whole round table to look back to you. 

“Whenever, I guess.” You shrug casually, belatedly swatting Jisung’s hand from your plate this time. “Until Mrs. Park gets off my back and Jisung actually stops fucking around on Bumble.” 

“I don’t fuck around on Bumble!” Jisung complains over a mouthful of chocolate cake.

“Well, that’s going to take a long time.” Chan dismisses. “At least let us all know so we can schedule faking a whole drama in this group.” 

“Anyway, it’ll die down soon, surely.” Jisung assures with a half-shrug. “Also, our parents only meet up constantly during this reunion party. If anything, we just have to fake date in front of our moms since they meet up more often.” 

“And Mrs. Hwang.” You point to Hyunjin and Yeji. “Since we all go to brunch once a month.” 

At the mention of the monthly brunch, Yeji’s eyes widen. “Does that mean Jisung has to be at our monthly brunch?!” 

“Oh, ew!” Hyunjin adds in disgust. “I’ve had enough seeing you at campus already!” 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” Jisung exclaims back in complain. “I doubt I’d get invited to that, we’re supposed to be dating not getting married!” 

Jisung turns to you expectantly, sighing in relief when you say, “That seems unlikely, it’s my mom and Mrs. Hwang’s thing, anyway. It’s not the Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner brunch.” 

“It better be!” Hyunjin says with crossed arms. “Hopefully our moms don’t get that kind of idea.”

You quietly agree. Having Jisung on your monthly brunch with the Hwangs would just cause so much trouble and cement him in your mom’s good graces—but as your boyfriend, this time.

That’s probably not good. 

The party officially ends some time around 3 AM, when most of the parents with elementary school children have gone home hours earlier and, besides the Kims, it’s just your family, the Hwangs, the Hans, Chan, and Miyoung left at the front gates, bidding each other goodnight.  

“Thank you for having us again, Mrs. Kim.” You bid Seungmin’s family last since they’re the hosts, bowing politely to Seungmin’s parents before giving Seungmin a high-five. 

“See you after break.” Seungmin greets you after your high-five. “Have fun in Japan.” 

“And you enjoy your trip to New York.” You reply with an enthusiastic smile. “I do hope your mom reconsiders staying longer so you can spend the New Year there.” 

He nods with a sigh, “Yeah, I know. Still, I’ll try my best to convince her.” 

Your mom then approaches the two of you, bidding Seungmin and his parents goodnight before taking you away by the arm then turning you towards the direction of Jisung and his family. “Goodnight, Seungmin, Mr. and Mrs. Kim!” She smiles warmly to them before turning to you. “Y/N, aren’t you going to say goodnight to Jisung?” 

“I already did.” 

“Ah, but go to him anyway! Your dad still has to start the car.” 

You groan internally. After a whole night of drinking, singing, and gossiping with her friends, you’d think that she would’ve forgotten about earlier. 

Yet you oblige anyway, excusing yourself from your parents and approaching Jisung whose parents are busy having last-minute small talk with Chan and Miyoung, probably endorsing their chain of hotels as early as now for the wedding. 

“Hey, ugly.” You greet him casually as you approach, both your parents out of earshot so the old nickname naturally comes out. At this, Jisung immediately turns from scrolling through his phone to looking up at you with wide eyes. “My mom didn’t see us say goodnight a while ago so I’m here.” 

“Oh,” He muses, eyes flitting to your mom behind you once. When he sees her glancing expectantly, he turns to you and suggests, “Should we hug?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” You sigh, going straight into his extended arms. “‘Night.” 

“’Night, baby.” Jisung hums gently, too sleepy now to throw more witty comebacks besides the cheesy pet name that originally got you in trouble tonight. “See you after the break.” 

“No, see you on our moms’ next shopping spree.” You correct firmly, pulling away from his warmth before you could accidentally fall asleep on him. “Since we’re ‘dating’ now, you’re morally obligated to attend shopping bag duty now, too.” 

This makes Jisung sigh in defeat, “Fine, fair enough. See you on our moms’ next shopping spree, then.” He pauses for a moment then asks, “The day after New Year, right?”  

“Yeah.” You confirm with a nod when you catch him pouting, “You started this so don’t pout now.” 

“I know, I’m regretting it now.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff, only making you chuckle. “I suppose it’s different when we hang out as friends and when our moms think we’re dating.”

You continue laughing anyway until a thought crosses your mind and softens your gaze up at Jisung. “Anyway, thanks for saving me from another date—I almost forgot. The means is still annoying but I have to appreciate it somehow, right?” 

This time, it’s him chuckling, “Now you appreciate my efforts. See, I told you, something good comes up with this.” 

“Whatever.” You dismiss before you hear your mom calling for you as your dad pulls up in front of the Kim’s gates. “Okay, that’s me. Bye, ugly!” 

“Hm, bye!” With a final wave, Jisung then sees you off before joining his parents who he didn’t even realize have already gone to their car. 

Seating himself at the backseat of his mom’s car a moment later, Jisung accidentally glances over to his mom from the rear view mirror only to see her wiggling her eyebrows at him. 

“So,” Mrs. Han says. “you and Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Jisung response with a questioning tone. “Me and Y/N, what about it?” 

Mrs. Han only shrugs from the driver’s seat as she now drives away from the Kim’s house. “Nothing, you’re just both really cute.” She comments casually with a proud smile. “I like it. Though it is too bad we can’t invite them to dinner since they’re going to Japan for Christmas this year.” 

“How about next year?” Jisung’s dad suggests. “We can go on one of our hotels abroad.” 

“Ah, but—” Jisung stammers, only to be interrupted by his dad again.     

“Or, honey, when you and Mrs. Y/L/N go to the mall again.” Mr. Han quickly quips in to Mrs. Han before turning to their son in the back seat. “I expect you’d stop bailing on your mom when she goes to the mall now since Y/N’s always at these shopping trips.” 

At this, Jisung shakes his head, “I won’t. I’m ‘morally obligated’ now, apparently.”

“That’s good.” Mr. Han says, turning back to the road ahead and relaxing into the front passenger seat. “You better.”

Jisung sleepily props his elbow up by the window and sighs, letting his parents enjoy this new prospect of him seriously dating someone now. “Yup.” He ends the conversation, closing his eyes and getting a few minutes of sleep before arriving back home. 

Suddenly, this is probably not a good idea—lying to his already hyped parents. 

ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist

tag: @t-toodumbtocare​ @sandaigdigan-reads​ @pwarkhans​ @ruellelix @malai-barfi @mahalau​ @milkywayfelix @qweens-stuff​

#stayverse #districtninewriters #inkidz #stayhavennet #skzwriternet #stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids au #stray kids oneshots #stray kids drabbles #stray kids series #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz au #skz oneshots #skz drabbles #skz series #jisung #stray kids jisung #skz jisung #han jisung #jisung imagines #jisung scenarios #jisung au #jisung oneshots #jisung drabbles #jisung series

[agapaic]

[19 days] sin city

this drabble is a gift to one of my dearest and biggest supporters, @geoviki​, who requested a bonus ‘second kiss’ continuation scene between he tian and guan shan in the ‘sweet tooth’ universe (a crazy rich asians-inspired fic), and i sincerely hope you enjoy it, viki! all my love, xxx

Guan Shan hasn’t set foot in God’s house since he was a kid. His mother goes every weekend when she doesn’t have a double shift, but he can’t bring himself to go with her. Too busy, too cynical. He knows he can’t struggle with his faith when he’s lost it; he doesn’t know if he ever found it. He knows without a doubt that he sins.

As it is, he isn’t burnt in the service, isn’t poisoned by the communion. He thinks that if anyone were to be dealt retribution then he wouldn’t be first in line. Singapore’s elite have bigger, dustier skeletons in their closets than Guan Shan, half-disintegrated with age.

He tells himself this through the readings and prayers and hymns he’s forgotten the words to, glances routinely through the stained-glass windows for a glimpse of an outside reality he can’t see. He can hear it: the rush of mid-morning traffic beyond the grassy verges of the church, neatly protected from the central business district by iron fencing and a half-acre of flower beds and rain trees.

Beneath the lip of the pew, where copies of the testaments, old and new, have been neatly placed and the firm, embroidered hassocks hang off metal hooks, He Tian squeezes Guan Shan’s hand.

‘Nearly done,’ he murmurs, while Father Joshua delivers his sermon on godliness in children and parental obedience.

Guan Shan's gaze slides to his. It’s one of the only things He Tian’s said the whole service.

‘You believe all this?’ he asks, whispering.

‘They do,’ He Tian replies, his lips barely moving.

Fans move lazily above them from the high steepled ceiling, their chains rattling over the din of the priest’s solemn tone. They don’t offer much: the inside of the church is still sticky with heat, and members of the congregation attempt to cool themselves with the service pamphlets or paperback copies of the Bible with broken spines and annotations in the margins.

From the seat in front of them, Guan Shan watches a bead of sweat slide down a woman’s neck, dampness collecting at the high laced collar of her Chanel dress. She has her own bamboo fan, painted with pretty avian sketches.

Guan Shan pulls his gaze away. ‘Which godly child are you?’ he asks He Tian quietly. ‘Absolom or Samuel?’

He Tian tries to hide a grin. ‘Destroyer of kingdoms or a monk?’ he questions, angling his head as if looking behind him. His breath is cool at Guan Shan’s ear. Guan Shan lets him lean close, breathing in sandalwood and khus oil. ‘Are those my only choices?’

Guan Shan sets his eyes forward. ‘Nothin’ else seems to be acceptable.’

‘Yes—they’re a stern lot.’

‘They should put their money where their mouth is.’

He Tian snorts quietly. He releases Guan Shan’s hand, and Guan Shan says nothing when his hand moves instead to rest innocently atop Guan Shan’s thigh.

‘He Tian…’ he starts to warn.

He Tian keeps his expression plain. ‘I told you if you came I’d make it worth your while.’

‘That’s not—’ Guan Shan bats his hand away. The gesture elicits a harsh smacking sound, and a few heads turn. Guan Shan presses his lips into a hard line. When eventually their attention shifts away again, Guan Shan hisses, ‘I’m not doin’ that.’

‘I thought you didn’t care much for His wrath,’ He Tian says, pointing discreetly upwards.

‘That’s got nothin’ to do with…’ Guan Shan breaks off. He Tian’s eyes are glittering. He’s joking with him. Guan Shan clenches his jaw. Murmuring, he says: ‘You shouldn’t mess with people like that.’

‘But you make it so much fun,’ He Tian whispers.

Guan Shan glares at him. He endures the rest of the sermon in stoic silence. Absolom, he thinks. He Tian, the destroyer of kingdoms—and young men’s hearts.

///

They linger outside after the sermon. The air is thick and charged with the aftermath of a morning thunderstorm, the ground wet with rain and the smell of petrichor. Guan Shan breathes in deeply, stepping back while He Tian greets strangers and allows middle-aged women to offer both cheeks for him to kiss, their husbands noticeably absent. They run their eyes over Guan Shan and the suit he’s going to make He Tian return by the end of the day, and He Tian politely evades their desire for introductions.

He knows everyone, Guan Shan realises, but it doesn’t surprise him. He’s seen the He family work a crowd at a party or a charity function. The lingering congregation of a Sunday mass is only another opportunity to schmooze and gossip.

‘Just another five minutes,’ He Tian murmurs at Guan Shan’s ear. ‘My father will have my hide if I don’t show my face for a decent length of time.’

‘How long’s that? By his standards?’

‘He’d have me go to brunch with someone’s mother and their daughter if he had his way.’

Guan Shan fingernails bite into his palms. The thought of He Tian being palmed off to some socialite’s offspring makes him bitter with jealousy. He’s seen He Tian only a few times since the charity function at the She estate, communicated with him mostly in veiled text messages and late night calls.

It’s been weeks since they’d shared the feeling of each other’s lips in a quiet room at the She mansion, weeks since they’d shared kueh with their legs dangling over the edge of a jetty across from Sentosa island. Most nights, Guan Shan still tastes both on his lips.

He’s got little stake to claim over the young heir of the He fortune, but he can’t help himself. He goes where He Tian asks him to, wears the suits He Tian buys him. Fuck, he’s started smoking his brand of cigarettes, too. And if He Tian wants to take him to church one Sunday morning so he has better company than a band of middle-aged women wanting him for themselves more than their daughters… Who is Guan Shan to say no after the first three times?

‘What are you thinking?’

Guan Shan blinks. Another church-goer has come and gone, and they’re alone. He Tian is watching him closely.

‘I want a cigarette,’ Guan Shan says. Technically, it’s not a lie.

He Tian snorts. ‘In the courtyard of our Lady of the Veil? Blasphemy, Mo Guan Shan.’

Guan Shan shrugs. He remembers their exchange at the threshold of the church, where two children no more than ten stood with a coin bowl held out, covered in pool-table green cloth and more cash than Guan Shan earns from a month’s tips.

‘I’m not a Catholic,’ he’d told He Tian, feeling strangely compelled to tell him with an even stranger degree of anxiety about the fact, as if it were a make-or-break moment for something they had that could neither be made nor broken.

He Tian had snorted then, too. ‘Don’t worry,’ he’d said, stepping through the doors, palming the children a few bills to line their pockets. ‘Neither am I.’

Now, Guan Shan watches as He Tian reaches into the lining of his suit jacket and pulls out a carton of cigarettes from the pocket. It’s too warm to stand outside in their Sunday best for long, and He Tian tugs Guan Shan over beneath the shade of an Indian-almond tree, its boughs offering some cool relief to a small section of the church courtyard.

Guan Shan watches He Tian light a cigarette between his lips, the flame close to his fingers. It catches; there’s a cherry red glow. Smoke blooms between them, and then He Tian plucks the cigarette from his lips and holds it out as if it’s a newly picked flower.

‘Here,’ he says. A moment passes, where Guan Shan doesn’t take it. ‘I thought you wanted it.’

‘I do, I just—’ Guan Shan can feel his cheeks starting to redden. He swallows. His throat has gone dry. He can hear the voices of men and women standing before the church. He knows some of them are watching, wondering, eager to know who his family is and where he’s come from and how he has captured He Tian’s attention with such painful, singular attentiveness.

‘You’re not—’ He Tian breaks off with a laugh. ‘You’re not worried that I’ve touched it, are you?’

Guan Shan looks away, and He Tian’s eyes widen.

‘Oh,’ he says. His smile grows wider. ‘Mo Guan Shan,’ he croons. ‘I didn’t know you were such a puritan. How proud He’d be.’

‘Shut up,’ Guan Shan mutters.

He Tian’s stance shifts, intrigued. ‘If I’d known it took an indirect kiss to make you blush, Man Upstairs be damned, I’d have put my mouth elsewhere a long time ago.’

‘Shut up.’

He Tian’s laughter is deep as he takes a drag of his cigarette. Some of the women are frowning at him. The hot breeze carries the smoke in their direction, and they waft it away with their fans and paper service pamphlets, rouged mouths pursing tightly. He smiles at them, all affable apologies, and they can’t begrudge him long.

‘They want you to fuck them,’ Guan Shan mutters.

He Tian’s eyes flick to his, and his smile grows indulgent. ‘I know,’ he says.

‘You’re not gonna do anythin’ about it?’

‘Like what?’

Guan Shan grits his teeth. ‘Like—tell them to fuck off?’

He Tian snorts. ‘They’re old friends of the family. And you forget they haven’t made me an offer, sweetheart.’

‘And if they did?’

He Tian considers him carefully. His playfulness begins to fade. ‘You’re jealous,’ he says. ‘Of them?’

‘They’d divorce their investment husbands if they knew they had a chance with you.’

He Tian taps cigarette ash to the ground. He looks away, squinting at the skyline, considering something, before taking a step forward.

‘Firstly,’ says He Tian, his voice low, ‘if they had a chance with me they’d know it. Secondly, there’d be no divorce or marriage to a man twenty years their junior because their reputations wouldn’t survive the scandal. And thirdly: what the fuck would I want with them when I have the prospect of a whole indirect kiss with you?’

Guan Shan glares at him. ‘Gimme that,’ he says, snatching the cigarette from He Tian’s fingers before putting it to his lips. He nearly chokes on the inhale, eyes watering, and smoke seeps from the corners of his mouth before he can control it the way he wants it to. There’s nothing attractive about it, but he catches He Tian watching him with an indulgent smile.

‘It’s been five minutes,’ He Tian says, taking a glance at his watch. ‘We can go now. I promised to buy you brunch. You’re still happy with Orchard Road?’

‘I’m not finished,’ Guan Shan says.

He Tian’s brows lift. ‘You can’t smoke and walk?’

‘I didn’t mean that.’

He Tian tilts his head. ‘Oh?’

‘I meant—it’s not really fair, is it? It’s always—always you kissin’ me, and shit.’

‘Always?’

‘Yeah, with the—distractin’ the guards at She Li’s house and with—’ He makes a vague gesture. ‘—the cigarette and—’

‘Guan Shan—’

‘—it’s only fair that I get to prove my own fuckin’ point too—’

‘Mo Guan Shan—’

‘So will you just shut up and let me kiss you?’

He Tian stares at him.

Then he swallows.

‘If you really want to,’ he starts, ‘I suppose I’m in no position to—mmphh!’

It isn’t tender or soft, and Guan Shan is vaguely aware of the cigarette burning to ash between his fingers. He lets it fall, hopes he’s ground it out beneath his foot properly and remembers to pick it up after or risk a fine, but first: this. His fingers tightly locked in the dark strands of He Tian’s hair; He Tian’s lips bruising against his own, the sharp gasps of the women loitering by the church doors.

It’s exactly as he remembers from last time. A crushing pressure, the sense of being caught unawares. No finesse. Guan Shan knows it could be slower, that they could take their time, a pilgrimage of vulnerability and one body learning another, but something possessive in him has taken over—this is a crusade.

He Tian’s answering kiss twists into a grin against Guan Shan’s mouth. Guan Shan swallows He Tian’s amusement down, finds the feel of He Tian’s smile against his lips unfairly alluring. He does his best to try and rid He Tian of it, crowding close until He Tian’s back hits the trunk of the almond tree and He Tian is groaning beneath the pressure of his lips. He tastes the acrid smoke of their shared cigarette and He Tian’s breath mints, feels the humid beat of the mid-morning sun—and He Tian’s hand pressing gently at his chest.

He pulls away, staggering and breathing hard. With satisfaction, he notes that He Tian is, too.

‘I think we’re even now,’ says He Tian, a slight rasp to his voice. His eyes are bright and he runs his thumbnail over his lower lip, which has gone swollen and red. ‘You’ve suitably convinced your audience.’

Guan Shan looks away. ‘Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.’

‘Oh?’ He Tian asks, amused. ‘That wasn’t you staking your claim?’

Guan Shan hesitates. Part of him can’t bear to look behind him. ‘Are you gonna be excommunicated?’

He Tian chuckles. ‘I’m sure I can find my way back in. Father Joshua is particularly fond of He Cheng’s hideously curvaceous Bugatti.’

‘Guess that’s somethin’,’ Guan Shan mutters.

In answer, He Tian sweeps a hand through the loose strands of Guan Shan’s red hair that have slipped down across his forehead. The touch is fond and familiar and makes Guan Shan swallow hard.

‘You know,’ says He Tian. ‘You can do that any time you want. Not just to prove a point.’

‘You haven’t,’ says Guan Shan, an accusation.

‘I didn’t want to scare you off. I realise last time I was a bit—’

‘Forceful?’

‘Abrupt,’ He Tian corrects delicately. ‘But still—I don’t want you to think you’re any less mine.’

Guan Shan looks at him. ‘Thought you couldn’t have anythin’ you wanted.’

‘Ah…’ He Tian drops his hand, leans back on the heels of his Louis Vitto’s. Almost boyishly, he says, ‘I thought it was a done deal. You and me.’

Guan Shan neither confirms or denies. Instead he asks, ‘Who’d you trade with to get that impression?’

He Tian nods his head upwards. ‘Did it work? I sold my soul for it. ’

‘And they still let you in?’

He Tian’s look is sinful. ‘They let the worst of us through.’

Guan Shan rolls his eyes. He wets his lips. ‘Well,’ he says. ‘I think you’re on a decent road to redemption.’

‘Is that your way of saying it was a worthwhile bargain?’ Tell me it worked.

‘Is that your way of askin’ if I’m yours?’ Guan Shan asks. All these riddles and metaphors—sometimes he has to bring them back to the ground, make sure they’re on the same page.

‘I—Yes.’

Guan Shan nods, then jerks his chin in a challenge. ‘Make me believe it and I might be.’

He Tian’s eyes flicker towards the church just for a moment, but then he smirks, reaffirming their closeness with one step. ‘Mo Guan Shan,’ he murmurs, angling his head down, ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

#19 days #tianshan #old xian #he tian #mo guan shan #sweet tooth #crazy rich asians #my fanfic

[fairyoftbz]

[06:59]

🎄Day 21 of the Christmas project🎄

It was early, but it was for a good cause. Even if you were not very motivated, you had to meet the obligations of your education. The fall semester at university ended last Friday, just two days ago, and you were already studying again. You wanted to get ahead to have a little rest around January before your upcoming exams. Because yes, your university found it reasonable to take schedule tests and reports to submit right before the Christmas holidays, to finally push you to prepare for the semester exams in February. How nice of them. It wasn't a holiday, more like days you didn't go to university, but you had to live with it.

Eric was soundly sleeping in your shared bed, trying to recuperate the hours of sleep he'd missed over the past few weeks, if not months. He was working a lot, almost as hard as you, and he tended to have to catch up on his sleeping hours to be up and efficient. You came back from the bathroom and stealthily walked to your desk, grabbed your laptop before closing the bedroom door, heading to the living room to work without disturbing your still sleeping boyfriend.

He emerged a few moments later, searching for your figure on your side of the bed, his hand only touching the cold sheets. Opening his eyes, you were neither sitting in bed nor at your desk, which made Eric's brows knit. He blinked several times to keep his eyes open and stood from the bed, a shiver running through his body as his feet touched the cold floor.

Typing on your keyboard and turning the pages of your notes for the past several hours, the bedroom door opened on your boyfriend, still looking very sleepy and hair messy. He was pouting as he rubbed his eyes, searching for you in the small apartment.

"What are you doing up so early?" He asked, his morning voice still very rocky and a few octaves lower. "I want to get ahead of the rest of the vacation. I'm still in the studying mood so might as well take advantage of it," you explained as you extended your arms above your head, a few bones in your back cracking from the gesture.

Eric looked at you sleepily, arms dangling on his sides, your words rising to his sleepy brain, waiting to be analysed. His eyes stared at you for a few seconds before he let out a deep sigh.

“Y/N, please stop. It's the holidays, take this time to rest and spend some time with your lovely boyfriend,” he whined with a childish smile, shuffling his way towards you, collapsing down beside you. He took your computer from your hands, put it on the coffee table before pushing the papers off your knees to come to rest his head. Surprised by his demeanour, you frowned with a playful smile, your hand got lost in his hair, and he sighed. He wrapped his arm around your thighs and squeezed them gently, enjoying this little moment of serenity in your company.

"Promise me you'll rest, at least until Christmas?" he whispered against the flannel of your pyjama pants and you sighed, not sure what to answer him. "I don't know, I want to get a head start in the exams revision, I'm afraid of running out of time," you confessed to your boyfriend, who shifted his weight on his hands to look you straight in the eyes. "Listen Y/N, if you don't take the time to take care of yourself and rest, you're going to burnout, and you'll waste even more time. I can still remember your freshman year in college, and I don't want that to happen again. I had never seen you this dejected and depressed, I don't want it to happen again. Give yourself some free time to clear your mind and think about something else, you have plenty of time to work after the holiday season,” you looked at the coffee table without much interest and Eric grabbed your chin to prevent you from looking away. "Y/N, I promise we'll work together after the holidays, but please rest. Okay? Do it not only for me but also for you," he addressed you a hopeful look, and you nodded with a shy smile, earning a wink from your boyfriend. You shut down your computer and stack your papers on the table, nuzzling against your boyfriend, hair tickling his exposed skin.

"Okay, now that I'm not allowed to try and get smarter anymore," you said with a nasty look and playfully smiled at Eric, "what do we do?" "We can go back to bed first, it's only 8:30 am, and I'm still sleepy," he stifled a yawn, and you kissed his cheek. He took your hand without asking your opinion and dragged you by the hand to the bedroom, where the blankets were still warm. In any case, Eric's still were.

You scooted over on his side of the bed to get some warmth, encircling your arm around his neck while the other crossed his stomach. His lips gently touched your forehead and lingered on your skin, sending a wave of warmth and happiness into your body. You felt really good and peaceful with him.

"How nice," you whispered, and he chuckled, removing a strand of hair out of your eyes. "See, I told you. It’s better than studying right?" he replied, and you rolled your eyes before closing them, feeling your body fall back into a deep sleep.

Eric smirked when he felt you slump against him, and he sighed. He was proud but worried, despite your burnout of the last year, you were ready to do it all over again. He could see that you were having difficulty taking care of yourself and getting out of this mindset, but he knew you could be able to do it, even if he had to care of you. He had taken on this mission as soon as he saw you plunge into this vicious cycle of negative thoughts about yourself. Eric wanted you to manage to take care of yourself like you took care of him.

He had a harder time falling back to sleep than you, but that didn't mean he wasn't relaxed. He had you pressed against him, his hand gently stroking your cheek while the other rested on your hip. Smiling when he saw you were wearing one of his t-shirts to sleep, he didn't mind the fact that you stole his clothes, he liked it, it awakened something inexplicable in him. He covered you with kisses until your body heat made him fall asleep, joining you in your slumber in a few minutes.

You emerged a few hours later, your eyes burning from the daylight streaming through the curtains. The alarm clock behind your boyfriend read 10:25, and your eyes widened at the lateness of your awakening. As you were about to throw the covers at the foot of the bed and start your day, but the words of the man drooling against your chest came back to mind. Stroking his short hair, you sighed and positioned your head comfortably against the headboard, observing Eric, who had started to snore, occasionally mumbling your name in his sleep while tightening his hold around your body.

You let him sleep another twenty minutes, kissing his forehead and shaking him lightly to wake him up gently. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he straightened up from your chest, looking at you even more sleepy than the first time.

"Did you plan to sleep for longer?" You quizzed him as he slumped down again, this time on his side of the bed. "I could sleep all day if I could." "Come on, my cute little sloth, we gotta wake up," you said, ruffling his hair for a brief moment, but he grabbed your hand to drop little kisses on the inside of your wrist. "Do you want to order food? I know a good place-” he offered, but you shook your head. “No, we're going to cook brunch. Here, you're going to come and help me, that way you can make yourself useful." "Y/NNNNN, you're not funny," he whined, but you shook your head as he tried to seduce you with his best puppy eyes. “Come on, let's go, darling. We still have the apartment to decorate." "Okay, okay," he pouted, defeated, but straightened up anyway, watching you out of the corner of his eye before pouncing on you, his desperate attempt to keep you from getting out of bed.

"Kiss attack!" He screamed, and you laughed, trying to escape his arms as he began to kiss every inch of skin his mouth could meet. You struggled again, and he stopped, keeping you trapped in his arms as you tried to catch your breath from all your laughter. "I love you Y/N," he whispered in your ear, and you smiled, even wider, turning your head towards him to put your lips on his. “Me too, Eric, me too. But come on, I’m hungry."

#rosy tbz december #eric #sohn eric #the boyz eric #the boyz sohn eric #eric imagines #eric scenarios #sohn eric imagines #sohn eric scenarios #the boyz eric imagines #the boyz eric scenarios #the boyz #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #tbz scenarios #tbz #tbz imagines #tbz fluff #tbz eric #tbz fluff imagines #eric x reader #the boyz x reader #eric au #sohn eric au #christmas au #the boyz christmas au

[randomoranges]

rambly fic thing as always. 

Boxed Up

It’s a quiet dinner, safe for the scrape of forks against the dinner plates. Well – mostly his fork against his dish. Étienne’s been playing with his food more than actually eating at it, digging out the wild mushrooms from the risotto and chewing on them for longer than necessary. He’s been this way for the better part of the week and Edward has no idea what’s been eating at him. He’s asked, on more than one occasion, but Étienne’s been cagey. Edward’s giving him until the weekend before sitting him down proper and confronting him about whatever’s been bothering him. It’s been a hell of a week and a crazy month at that too, so it could be a myriad of different things, for all he knows.

 He’d ask now, over dinner, but they’re both tired and he’s not sure he has enough energy for pushing the issue until it’s solved. He feels as though he’ll just end up hurting his partner by saying the wrong thing, despite the best of his intentions. Therefore, he gives Étienne space and just hopes that he’ll come around in his own time. He can tell that Étienne wants to breech whatever has been bothering him, but he too is looking for the right time. Edward worries. Always. It’s part of his nature. He knows how Étienne can get and doesn’t want that for him.

 Edward’s about to clear the dishes, seeing as Étienne’s made little to no progress on his meal, when, as if reading his mind, his boyfriend speaks out, quiet and fragile, over his mound of simmered rice and mushrooms.

 “Are you happy?” He asks and Edward blinks, wondering if he’s even heard right.

 “What?” He asks intelligibly, the question having taken him by surprise.

 “Are you bored?” Étienne asks instead.

 “What?” He repeats, a broken machine that has failed to comprehend the simply task that’s been asked of it.

 “Of us. Are you bored of us – our relationship – our lives? Are you happy being here – with me and our life?”

 He blinks again. He has no idea where this is coming from. He would have never guessed that this has been the issue plaguing his boyfriend’s mind. He wonders what this means. Where Étienne wants to go with this and if it isn’t some cataclysm to something bigger and mightier.

 Instead, he takes a sip of water to buy him some time to ponder the best way to answer these questions other than stating the obvious. At least – the obvious to him.

 “I’m not bored,” He says, finally, “And I’m quite happy with our life together.”

 He thinks maybe that will be that and Étienne will be content with the answer, but he’s known the other for too long and so he’s able to tell that there’s still more gnawing at his mind.

 “Are you – unhappy? Bored? Is this what this is about?” He asks, fear taking hold of his own mind. Is Étienne about to tell him that he wants a break? Wants to end this? Edward would be devastated. Blindsided as well.

 “What – no! I like our life!” He says quickly, almost insulted Edward would suggest otherwise. “I’m just – it’s just – don’t you find we spend too much time together?”

 Sometimes, he wishes Étienne could be clear when he talks about things that are bothering him. The roadmap to the real issue is always a complicated mess with sharp turns and pedantic questions that lead from one existential dilemma to another, until finally, with careful word choice, Edward is able to get to the real root of the problem. He momentarily wishes Étienne would have waited until the weekend to expose his issues – when they’d both be more rested, but he supposes he’ll take what he can. At least, he thinks, Étienne is talking. In his own complicated way.

 “What do you mean?”

 “We’re literally always together. We work together. You drive me to work. We have lunch together – often. We do things on weekends together – usually. Aren’t you afraid that at some point you’ll get bored? Is this what life is all about? Is this what you really want out of your life? Don’t you wish it was more exciting? Is this what you wanted when you were younger?”

 He’s getting closer to the nucleus, Edward can tell, but there are still some other red flags popping up along the way that Edward wants to address. To make sure Étienne is okay. That there isn’t some other bigger issue hidden in the shadows.

 “I mean – no, I don’t think I saw myself living this exact life when I was a teenager – then again, I didn’t think much beyond what I would be doing next weekend. But, I don’t feel suffocated by the time we spend together. We’re not always together either, even if we do work at the same place. It might be a little unconventional, but we have our own friends we see without the other and activities we do on our own. Like when I go skiing over March break and you go down south with Emma.” He tries and hopes he’s hit a mark. Étienne nods, as if reassured by this and Edward lets out a breath he’s been holding.

 “I can’t speak for the future, but right now, I’m not bored. It might not be the most exciting life, but I like it just fine... I like what we’re building together.” There’s a pause and when Étienne doesn’t say anything, he figures he’ll take a shortcut, “What’s this all really about, Étienne?”

 Étienne sighs deeply and decapitates his mound of risotto with the back of his fork. “I don’t know,” He starts and then jabs the rice, “I mean – I do, but – it’s just – we’ve been together for a while now – years, really and it’s just – I’d hate for you to wake up one morning, turn around and realise that this has been a waste. That you’ve missed out on some big adventure or something.”

 He wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He’s always considered his life with Étienne to be his big adventure. In all his wildest dreams, he’d never thought he’d get this – stability, a partner he loves and who loves him back – even when he drives him crazy.

 “When did we become boring, old queers, Ed?”

 This time, he does laugh – a soft little chuckle – and he also reaches over for Étienne’s hand to give it a squeeze.

 “I think we’re just getting older. We want different things and are at different points in our lives.”

 “Are we though? I mean – I remember when I was twenty and hitting the clubs. I had some crazy, wild fun nights, at the time. Meeting new people, staying up ‘til all hours. Hooking up. Going to one party after another. God, when’s the last time we even had drag brunch? You used to bring me to those all the time! When’s the last time you even saw your friends from drag?! Now we’re just – two people. Where’s our rebellious spark?!”

 Edward quiets. Étienne has a point. He remembers his own youth, way back when, and the crazy things he’d done. The trips with his friends to other queer cities, the drag shows he’d gotten involved with, volunteering for Pride and such. It feels like a different lifetime ago – something that could have even happened to a different person all together. Had they really done any of those things?

 “When’s the last time we even saw any of our queer friends? It’s like the only circle we’re involved in now is the teacher one. I had to find out through Facebook that Steven and Max broke up. Steve and Max!”

 There we go, Edward thinks, the nucleus.

 “If they can break up then who’s to say it can’t happen to us?”

 The news had come as a blow to both of them, really. Edward had met Steve and Max through Étienne and even then, already, they had been Steve-and-Max. They’d been together for nearly twenty years and were an inspiration, really. Despite being together, they were still active in the community, still went out, and still enjoyed life. Max had even proposed to Steve, a few years ago, and anyone who’d seen the video of the proposal had cried at how utterly sweet and romantic it was.

 “Sweetheart, listen – no one knows for sure what’s going to happen to us in the future. But I promise I’m not bored and I like being with you. If ever anything changes, I would absolutely tell you. The best we can do is to take it a day at a time and check in with each other, if ever we feel like something is off.”

 “I guess,” Étienne mumbles, “But when did it get like this? When did we get washed out?

Sometimes I feel like I’ve been erased. That any personality trait I have or had is gone. All I am is a teacher. Day in and day out. I only ever get to be myself on few occasions. Convenient periods of time pre-established by the school agenda. When did I stop being the person you met when we started dating? When we used to do things that were something else than Being a Teacher?”

 Edward doesn’t say anything. He gets it. So much. It has never fully occurred to him, but Étienne has hit the nail on the head. There have been times, when, upon reflection, he’s felt as though the institution of school has been like a closet and that he’s been forced back in it. Hiding who he is. Not being his true authentic self, but some persona. The teacher persona. Sure, he hasn’t exactly rocked the boat and announced to the school that he’s queer, but he also doesn’t want to. Because it’s his personal life. And because there’s some deep fear anchored deep within him. It might be the twenty-first century, but it’s not a walk in the park either. So he’s kept quiet. Has hidden things about himself, when once, years ago, he had never shied away from being gay.

 Therefore, M Édouard and Edward are two different people. He wonders, briefly, who gets to see the real Edward Murphy and if there’s ever been one, or if, instead, each facet is a part of the real Edward. It’s late and he’s tired. This isn’t the time or day for this type of talk or thought, yet now it nags at him as well, calling for attention.

 “We started dating over summer break – we didn’t have to worry about work and we had all the time in the world. Plus, that was years ago, we’ve also changed – we want new things now.” He tries, repeats, and hopes he sounds as convincing as he’s meant to be – as reassuring.

 “Then why does it feel like settling?”

 Why does it, really?

 “If you could,” He says instead, “What would you do differently?”

 Étienne, this time, is silent as he ruminates. “I don’t know – I mean, I guess the obvious would be to actually talk about my boyfriend when asked. All the teachers with kids keep talking about their goddamned outing apple picking and showing off pictures of their kids with the apples and whatever. Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute but all I ever hear is about the kids, what happened at daycare and weekends up north. I want to talk about my night out at the club, or show pictures of me and my boyfriend on vacation, or whatever other basic human thing I’ve done with my partner without having to fear I’ll get spat at. Or something.  I want to be able to exist. Fully. Not just in parts. I don’t want to be afraid when I show the kids a new artist who happens to be queer. I don’t want to gloss over the facts. I want to wear nail polish to school if I want to. Every inane thing I never questioned before. Most of all, I just want to be.”

 Edward wonders if it would be different if there was actual tangible support they could see. If other teachers spoke about these things – about their queer friends and family – about themselves; if it would feel different and safe. He wonders how many others of their own colleagues are in the same situation and keep to themselves out of fear and he wonders about the other queer teachers who don’t even have a friend or confidant at work. He considers himself lucky, really, that somehow, Étienne managed to find work at his school – that they’ve found each other. Even when they’d only been friends. It had been a blessing to be able to confide in Étienne, then – to have someone who got it.

 “We can always try,” He says after a lapsed moment of silence, “To be more of ourselves – to test the waters, so to say. If someone’s gotta do it, why not us?” He’s not sure how it’ll look, but – they can give it a shot. Take the proverbial baby step. See how it goes.

 “I guess you’re right – just wish it wasn’t always so – exhausting.”

 They leave it at that for now and clear off the table. Once the dishes are done and the leftovers boxed up in the refrigerator, they retire to the living room. Étienne finds solace in Edward’s arms and the two spend a quiet evening replaying the previous conversation in their minds, lost in their own rambling thoughts. There’s a lot to process and they’re both painfully aware that change will take time.

 “What if we tried to actively re-engage with the community – go back to our old hangouts – call up our friends?” Edward suggests, sometime later.

 Étienne ponders this for a moment and then nods, “We might as well try.”

 They may as well. If not them, then who?

 FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #au #teacher au #fic

[jokers-of-the-impractical]

Brian Quinn Mini Series “One and Only” Part 2 of 3

(A/N: Hey guys! I hope you’re enjoying this series so far! This part is inspired by “One and Only” by Adele. Part 1 can be found here. Part 3 will be out hopefully soon!)

Word Count: 2200ish?

This past year and half with Brian had been a total romantic whirlwind. It seemed like a total dream, your relationship was truly amazing. You were so comfortable with each other right away, he knew all of your secrets, and you knew his. A month after the live show where he asked out on a date, you two were an official item. By that time the fans already knew who you were from a recording of that night going viral in the fandom. You and Brian were quite surprised by how quickly the fans took to you as well, but that was partially due to the other jokers and their girls always raving about you and the relationship. Plus Brian and the others would swoop in for protection when someone decided to be not so nice.

Speaking of the guys, your friendships with them were amazing too. Each bond with the guys was completely unique and special. Each one had its common interests, shared activities, and inside jokes too. Since that night in the diner the laughs, support, and fun with them had not stopped. At least once a month you and Brian were at one of their houses with the rest of the gang for dinner, you always counted down the hours of the work day when these were taking place. And Bessy and Melyssa were some of your closest friends now. All the time when the guys were off they were put on babysitting duty so you three could hang out and have some girl time. When you girls get together the possibilities are endless! Shopping, brunch, beach day, even a girl’s trip was currently in the works. Just the other day the guys had a last minute segment to film so the girls took the opportunity and decided to take you to go get mani-pedis together after work.

On a date at a trendy and snazzy new restaurant in the city where you two spent celebrating three months together you both said I love you for the first time. Both of you were so nervous, then when the moment was right, you jinxed each other by saying it at the same time. By six months of dating during a late night movie marathon at his place after asking for the last two weeks for you to bring your cat over for playdates all the time, he asked you to move in with him and presented you with a key. You squealed and hugged him so tightly you were sure he was going to snap in half. You were also so supportive of one another when it came to work. All the time you were promoting the show, his podcasts, and his beer brand. You had become a social media fanatic when it came to supporting him and his many ventures. Q had made it a habit of visiting your classroom, on a few occasions he brought the other jokers with him too. You had to admit that seeing your boyfriend surrounded by your students and playing with them made your heart melt. He had the perfect balance of toughness, funniness, and nurturing, when he interacted with them. He had even told you he had begun to love being around children more and more when he started being a frequent visitor in your classroom.

Not long after your one year anniversary, Brain took you to meet his family for the first time and you clicked with them instantly, just as much when Brian met your parents eight months into the relationship, but you knew that they’d love him long before they got to meet. One moment you were talking with his dad and brothers about sports, and the next you were exchanging baking ideas and recipes with his mom.  Now visiting his parents all the time was the norm. Two weekends ago you were over at their house for a big cookout when Carol brought you into the kitchen and you two shared a really emotional and meaningful heartfelt conversation. She hugged you extra tight and told how much she adored you and told that she thought you and Brian were perfect for each other. She said she saw you like a daughter and was so happy that you made her son feel love again. Then she pulled away and gently held your arms and began to tear up when she admitted to you that since you two had begun dating she was thrilled that things didn't work out between him and his ex fiancé, of course she hated the pain the situation put him through, no parent would wish anything like that on their child, but not that long ago he confessed to her on the phone and she couldn't agree more that he was willing to go through that amount of heartache a thousand times if it meant that he got to be with you, because you meant that much to him. Now it was your turn to have tears in your eyes and you hugged her tightly again. As your conversation was nearing its end Q came in to find you and heard the tail end of the conversation, when he came into view he was looking at you super nervously. You headed back outside and he stayed in for a moment to talk to his mom, all you heard before stepping outside was something about not yet and not to ruin it.

Since that weird encounter at the cookout, Bri has been acting all jittery. Any time there was time to relax just the two of you, he would always suggest you do something or go out. It was a little concerning, usually if you guys disagreed or upset the other you would talk it out and fix it as soon as possible. But today was a date you both had been planning for the past month so you figured you would time to talk to him about it sometime today. You got out of bed and left your cat and Brooklyn sleeping on the bed. You trudged downstairs to see Q already dressed and sitting on the couch with Benjamin and Chessie with a cup of tea. You wrapped your arms around him and planted a kiss on his cheek, with sleepiness still in your voice.

“Mmm Good Morning Baby.” Q lifted up his arms to touch yours and leaned his head to plant a kiss on your cheek and then look at you.

“Morning my love. Do you want something to eat before we go? I already have coffee ready and waiting for you too.” He handed you your favorite mug from the coffee table filled with coffee just the way you liked it. You thought it over for a moment while you took a few sips of the coffee.

“Nah I’m good. I’ll just have this while I go and get ready.”

“Okay sounds good to me. I’m ready when you are, but don’t rush. Also, I picked out an outfit for you to wear today.” You smiled when he told you that, every so often he would do this for your dates and it would always make you smile. You headed back upstairs and sure enough your chiffon floral maxi dress and light denim jacket was waiting for you in the front of your closet. You love that the outfit he picked worked so well the manicure from the other day. You then decided to do a no-makeup makeup look topped off with your favorite pink lipstick, then while sipping your coffee, you pinned a bit of your hair back and left the rest down naturally. After your hair and makeup was done and slipped into your outfit, you saw your nude strappy sandals, diamond stud earrings, and off-white cross body bag waiting on the desk chair for you. You went to meet Bri downstairs when you were done getting ready to see him still being kinda weird, and you left for the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Ever since you binge watched Gossip Girl you had become enamored with the MET, you used to go here all the time and Brian knew that. Sometimes you would even just sit on the steps and people watch on days you were in the city. You went in and Q paid for both of your tickets. You spent the whole day wandering around going from exhibit to exhibit and showing him all of your favorite pieces. After what seemed like hours and were getting ready to head out, you figured now would be the right time to finally talk to Brian about why he had been acting so odd lately. You took in a quick yet deep breath and decided to get it over with.

“Hey Bri?” You could hear the nervousness in your voice, and he must have heard it too by the way you noticed him tense up and slowly turn away from the painting he was looking at to be facing you. It almost seems like he’s shaking.

“Uh, yes Y/N?” You let out another breath as you were unsure of where this conversation might lead since you have never seen him act like this.

“Are you okay? Ever since the cookout you’ve been acting pretty weird.”

“I have?”

“Yeah you have, and I was thinking maybe it was because you heard what your mom said to me. But, I want you to know that I feel the same way, I would have dealt with Dean tons more if it meant I got to be with you, that’s honestly how much I love you.” As soon as you finished, he let out a deep sigh of relief and was now smiling.

  “Y/N, I am fine I promise, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. But I’m glad you told me that, it means so much to me. How about we head home and order some takeout yeah?”  You smiled looking deep into his gorgeous dark eyes and nodded.

You walked your way back through the museum and once you both got outside you saw a section of the MET steps had been blocked off and was filled with red roses. You were in awe of this beautiful little scene that you didn’t realize Q was dragging you into this small area. Then all of the sudden there you were, holding hands with Brian facing you in the middle of all of these dozens of roses. Then Brian took a deep breath and began in the most gentle and sweet voice, almost like the night you met.

“Y/N, these past eighteen months have been pure heaven for me. From the moment I saw you I knew I was laying my eyes upon the most beautiful woman in the world, and then to know you admired me even a tenth of the way I already admired you when I read your letter made think I may actually have a shot with you, even though I was so unworthy of this angel before me.” You let out a giggle as he said that, and the gears in your head started turning, why is he being super romantic after being really weird and nervous? “Then I really got to know you and found out we had so much in common, and you helped become an even better version of myself, and I hope I do the same for you. The reason I’ve been so weird since the cookout, is because I didn’t want my mom to ruin this surprise. And I’ve been so nervous because… well...” What surprise? It was then it finally clicked as Brian let go of your hand and got down on knee, the manicure, the weirdness, the special date, the roses, everything! You felt your eyes well up with tears, and your hands flew to your mouth in shock, he was proposing! He pulled a small wooden box out of his pocket and opened it to show a gold ornate banded ring with an Emerald cut diamond in the middle with a small baguette diamond on each side as well. It was the most magnificent ring you had ever seen.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, would you be willing to spend the rest of your life with me, and do me the honor of becoming my wife?” Now the tears were starting to stream down your face and a smile permanently was plastered on your face. You heard cameras clicking and lights flashing around you as you took in this surreal moment with the love of your life.

“Yes Brian, of course I will marry you!” With that he put the ring on your finger and stood up to embrace you and placed a delicate kiss on your lips as cheers erupted from the small crowd that had gathered around you. You looked over to see photographers taking photos of the priceless moment, and your family that Brian must have flown in for the occasion were all thrilled with Bessy and Melyssa standing with them smiling as well. Then you both heard a loud and dramatic voice ring through a megaphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Make way for the happy couple who is now engaged!” You and Q looked over to see Joe holding a megaphone and Sal and Murr with him too. You and your now fiancé both giggled at the hilarious touch they added to this moment, realizing they must have been the ones to set it u while you both were inside. You looked back and Brian you knew that you were both excited to spend the rest of your life together, just you, and your one and only.

#Brian Q Quinn #brian quinn imagine #brian quinn #celebrity crush imagine #impractical jokers imagine #impractical jokers

[let-it-raines]

I’m married, I used to be a wedding planner, I’ve been to far too many weddings. All this said, I still struggle real hard to write a wedding. So, nonnie, I hope you like this! It was nice to get it out of my head and have it put in actual cohesive words, even if it took longer than I intended❤️

found on ao3 | here |

*I’m having to repost because something super funky was happening with the “keep reading” as can be seen in the screenshot of the ask. Sorry about that!*

-/-

June 19th, 2021

Ruth wants them to stay apart tonight.

It’s some kind of tradition or superstition, and as an athlete, Killian gets it. He does. He is all about doing the same stupid thing over and over again because it was happening on a day where something good happened. When he made it to his first post-season, he didn’t shave until the last ball was played. In 2018 when they made it to the World Series, he wore the same pair of socks every day. He washed them, but it was still the same pair of socks.

(He’s too particular about cleanliness not to wash things.)

But those were things he needed in order to convince himself that they were going to win, that he was going to be able to do it, and that everything was going to be alright.

He doesn’t need to spend the night away from his wife the night before their wedding.

The thing is that they can’t exactly tell anyone that they eloped over a month ago. It would break their family’s hearts, and he and Emma are committed to keeping that secret between the two of them.

That was their day, just them, and it’s not something to be shared.

He’s been wearing his wedding ring on a chain around his neck for the past month, and God, he can’t wait to get to put it on his finger tomorrow even if he’ll have to put it right back on the chain for games.

They likely shouldn’t have picked a wedding date right in the middle of baseball season, but this is the date that worked for everyone.

No game happening.

No work for Liam and Elsa.

Ruth could come to town.

And no one was so pregnant that they couldn’t attend.

(Anna told him that if they got married while she was eight months pregnant with twins she would murder him, so they obviously changed the original date.)

“Mom, I’m not doing that.”

“It’s tradition.”

“I stayed apart from David when we got married,” Mary Margaret adds in as they walk down the hallway after paying the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner.

“I’m staying in my own damn apartment,” Emma huffs. “I like my bed and my stuff, and I don’t want to have to sleep on the rock-hard bed in your spare bedroom.”

“Okay, well, you stay home, and Killian can stay at Liam’s.”

Emma stops walking and crosses her arms over her chest before briefly glancing at him. She is not happy, and if she didn’t love her family, he imagines there would be some kind of strangulation happening right about now.

Well, if there also wasn’t the threat of jail as well. That might also keep her from doing it.

“I appreciate you both looking out for tradition and any possible horrible things that may happen to us if we don’t stay apart,” Killian sighs, “but this wasn’t something we were planning on doing and neither of us are interested in it. If down the road we don’t work out, feel free to say ‘I told you so.’”

“Are you serious?”

“As anything.”

Killian glances over at Emma, at the small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. If he looks at her, he can ignore the disapproving stares of Mary Margaret and Ruth. It was Ruth who was insistent, but now, he might be a little more scared of Mary Margaret.

“Emma,” Ruth sighs, “won’t you please do this? It’s tradition, and it would mean so much to me to get to spend this night with you.”

Emma sighs and tilts her head up to look at the ceiling. She’s got on a short white dress tonight, and it flows off her body from the waist down, but it’s tight around her chest where the material barely covers her breasts. He’s been distracted by it all bloody night and the way that his mother’s ring hits in the concave between her boobs, but now as her neck is elongated, all he can focus on is the smoothness of her skin and the way her summer tan accentuates all of her features.

Beautiful.

“I’m sorry, but no,” Emma finally says. “I will see you both at nine tomorrow morning, and you will be with me until I walk down the aisle at six. That’s so much time, and I would much rather spend the night with Killian. I don’t think we’re going to be cursed.”

“Let the woman go,” David yells from the elevator door. “I’m ready to go to sleep.”

“David speaks the truth,” Killian laughs, reaching over to thread his fingers through Emma’s. “It’s been a long, wonderful day, and I cannot thank you both enough for it. Let’s all go home, though, get our beauty sleep. We’re all going to need it. There’s only so much editing the photographer can do.”

Mary Margaret and Ruth finally relent, and David manages to drag them out of the restaurant where they have been camping out for the last several hours, toasts given and delicious food eaten as half of the people they knew came up to he and Emma to congratulate them and talk about their excitement for tomorrow. The wedding has ended up being much bigger than either of them intended, mostly because of the sheer number of people they know and getting carried away with the help of Mary Margaret, Ruby, Elsa, and Anna. It’s honestly been insane and a whirlwind with the season taking up most of his time, and after they got married last month, neither of them have cared much about what this wedding will be like.

It’s a celebration with their friends and family, and if everyone else is happy, he will be too.

Though, he is excited to see Emma’s dress. He’s not seen it yet, but he knows he’ll find her beautiful in anything.

Killian tugs on Emma’s hand, and they start walking to the elevator, heading down to the lobby to get his car from the valet. There are photographers waiting outside, and he hears Emma groan. He squeezes her hand, wishing there was some other way to comfort her from the nuisance that are gossip reporters, but there’s nothing they can do now besides get his keys, get in the car, and go home.

“Was Ruth driving you crazy too?” Emma asks as they start slipping out of their clothes in their closet. “I know she means well, but oh my gosh, I never realized how much of a traditionalist she could be until the past few weeks.”

“I mean, it’s not unheard of for couples who already live together to stay apart the night of the wedding.”

“No, it’s not, but I still didn’t want to do it. I mean, have you slept on the bed in the guest room at David’s? It’s awful.”

“You could take the couch.”

“I promise they wouldn’t let me.”

Killian chuckles and hangs his shirt up before taking off his belt and his pants as Emma unclasps her bra. “Tomorrow you’ll wear the pretty white dress and carry a far too heavy bouquet, and everyone will be so amazed by your beauty that they won’t care that you kept bucking their traditions.”

“Getting a little cheesy there, Jones.”

“It happens sometimes.”

Emma shakes her head and bends over to grab one of his t-shirts. She doesn’t bother to hang up her dress or put away her bra or her shoes, and one day he will stop hoping that she’ll clean up her clothes.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Probably not.

He ends up picking up her clothes and putting them away after he’s changed into a pair of shorts, and he finds Emma in the bathroom taking off her makeup and washing her face. It takes her a little longer than usual to do it, and by the time she’s finished, he’s scrolling through Netflix trying to find something for them to watch as they fall asleep.

“You went ahead and got yourself comfortable, huh?” Emma laughs as she gets into her side of the bed and pulls the covers up to her chest.

“You took forever to take your makeup off.”

“Had to make sure there wasn’t any left. I’d definitely get, like, the biggest zit in the world, and believe it or not, I want the pictures to look nice tomorrow.”

“They could always airbrush it out. As long as it’s not too big. I was kidding about the photoshop thing earlier.”

“Shut up,” Emma laughs, reaching over to gently shove him. “Did we bring any leftovers home?”

“No, but I know Scarlet took a box home. You could always call him.”

“Would it be crazy if I did that?”

“Yeah, love, yeah it would.”

“It was really good food.”

Killian puts the remote down and leans over to wrap his arm around Emma’s waist and pull her closer to him. She’s warm, even if her feet are cold, and he breathes in the lingering scent of her perfume as she settles against him.

“We have some food in the fridge. Or I can make you something.”

“None of that will be the same as Will bringing me the leftovers.”

Killian laughs into her neck and then kisses the skin there. “I know for a fact that you’re going to brunch in the morning, so I think you’ll be able to make it.”

“Don’t be jealous that my friends plan on me having better food than Liam plans on you having.”

“Well, maybe I’ll have to attend the brunch as well.”

Emma twists around in his arms, elbowing him and kicking him before she settles so that the tips of her nose brushes against his. “I’m so glad we got married at the courthouse. I mean, I’m excited to wear my dress and to have the big party, but I really liked that day.”

“Aye, me too.”

She presses forward to glide her lips over his, soft and slow, and neither of them are in a hurry to get anywhere. He loves when they get to be like this, when they have time to tease and explore and not be in a rush to get to a certain destination.

There’s always somewhere to be, something to do, a game to play, someone to talk to. There’s always a rush.

Right now, however, the only rush is the beating of his heart and the way that the woman in his arms makes him feel.

Frustrated and exasperated and so damn in love that he’ll pick up her shoes when she leaves them around, which is always.

When they come together, it’s in that same gentle, slow motion that they were following earlier. Emma’s hair is cascading down her back in long, soft waves, and when she bends down to mold her lips to his again, he shifts his hips up to keep their rhythm as his hands settle on her back sides and hold her down to him. Who knows how many times they’ve done this and how many times they’ll do it in the future? It’s the past and present all at once, but he doesn’t care to be in any moment other than this one.

Damn is he glad that she’s not staying at the Nolans’ tonight. He can’t imagine her being anywhere else other than here with him.

When he wakes in the morning, it’s to the softness of Emma’s lips pressing against his chest, her mouth tracing his skin. Slowly, Killian blinks his eyes open, a smile curving on his lips, and while he expects Emma to be still be naked next to him in bed, she’s not. Instead she’s clothed in a button-down and a pair of shorts, her hair freshly washed and her face bare of makeup so he can see her freckles.

They come out more in the summer, and he’s rather fond of them.

“What are you doing out of bed?” He mumbles, reaching over for her and pulling her back to him. She easily falls into him, resting half on top of his leg while his hands reach out for her. “It’s not time for you to go yet.”

“We were up pretty late there, twenty-nine, and you slept in. So, yeah, it’s time to go. Elsa said she’s almost here to come get me.”

Killian juts his lower lip out. He knows Emma will find it ridiculous, which is exactly why he does it. “We’re technically already married. Want to play hooky?”

“No,” she laughs, getting up to lean back down over him so she can kiss him. “I’ll see you at the end of that aisle.”

“Well, technically you’ll see me for the pictures beforehand.”

“Semantics.” She kisses him again, lingering this time. “I love you. I will see you later. You’re going to be the most handsome man there tonight.”

“I better damn well be. I love you, Emma.”

And then she’s getting up and walking away, picking up a large tote bag, a backpack, and her dress before she’s walking out the bedroom door.

What a lucky son of a bitch he is.

Killian doesn’t have anywhere to be until noon. None of his friends or his brother are calling and texting and badgering him to do things, so he gets up and gets dressed to go for a run. It’ll be hot later, June in New York not exactly pleasant weather, but this morning, it’s nearly perfect, even if he has to avoid a few photographers as he makes his way to the park. They’ve been worse than usual lately, the wedding putting them into overdrive looking for gossip and exclusives, and Killian’s doing his best to ignore them. He always has, especially when people are trying to attack Emma.

He is not going to let them ruin is mood today, not when he’s got miles ahead of him and a damn big party to attend tonight.

He runs for almost an hour. Technically today should be a pitching practice day for him, but Al took him out of the rotation so he’s only missing one game while in Spain instead of the two he was slotted to. He’ll have to do some kind of practice, but how many times does a man get to have a honeymoon?

Well, considering all goes well and all that.

He stops for coffee before he goes home, drinking it on the walk back, and he slips in the back entrance of his apartment complex before taking the elevator up and hoping into the shower the moment he gets inside. It’s like it’s any other day.

Except it’s not.

“Where are you?”

Killian jumps at the sound of Liam’s voice, and he quickly turns off the water and grabs a towel to tie around his waist. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Making sure you’re not still asleep.”

“It’s almost noon. Have I ever slept in that late?”

“All the time.”

“Since I was a teenager then?”

“Eh, maybe. Not that I know about, though, unless you had a late travel day. You going to put some clothes on?”

“You come into my place, unannounced, and you’re going to complain that I don’t have clothes on?”

“I’m your brother. That’s what I do. Now, come on, Elsa told me I should take you out for lunch. I apparently didn’t think about that.”

“You’re a spectacular best man.”

He shrugs. “I do what I can, which has mostly been keeping Addy and Lucy out of their dresses so they don’t stain them before tonight. Who puts kids in white?”

“Your wife picked out those dresses.”

“Of course she did,” Liam chuckles. “But seriously, finish getting ready. Robin is getting us some food, and we’re going to eat at the venue.”

“What? I don’t deserve to dine in?”

“Do you want to?”

“No, I’d much rather sit on the couch and eat.”

“Exactly. Let’s go.”

When they get to the pier, Robin, Will, Eric, August, Kris, Graham, and David are already there, food and drinks spread out across the table in front of them. They’re in the middle of some debate about Thursday’s game, Will arguing with Robin about him misreading one of Will’s signs, and they don’t notice when Killian sits down and grabs a bowl of pasta from the center of the table.

“Pleasant, don’t you think?” Killian asks David.

“Exactly how I would want all of my friends to be acting on a day when we’re all supposed to get along.”

“It’s worse if they’re also your coworkers.”

David chuckles and takes a sip of his water. “Did Ruth break into your house in the middle of the night to try to separate the two of you?”

“God, no,” Killian laughs. “And if she did, I’m sure she would have been in for quite the sight.”

“Please remember that you’re talking to Emma’s brother when you speak to me.”

Killian shrugs and smiles. “What? You don’t want to be having this conversation?”

“I want to be having anything but this conversation.”

“Okay, we can talk about last year’s Christmas when you – ”

“Jones, shut the fuck up.”

Killian chuckles and pokes his pasta with his fork. “No, Ruth didn’t come and get Emma in the middle of the night. I was almost convinced she and Mary Margaret would, so I’m thankful that she didn’t. Emma left so damn early this morning, though, that she might as well have stayed somewhere else.”

“A lot goes into them getting ready for today. Though, honestly, I’m pretty sure Ruby has all of them getting drunk on mimosas.”

“Oh, I would bet on that.”

“What are we betting on?” Will interrupts. “Are we betting that Emma doesn’t walk down the aisle tonight? Is she going to be a runaway bride?”

“Don’t be an asshole, Scarlet,” Robin mutters. “You can’t say shit like that.”

“What? We all know I’m joking. Emma is far too good for the man, but she loves him. She’s definitely going to show up…probably.”

Killian flips up his finger at Will and keeps eating his pasta. “I feel like I was much more supportive on your wedding day.”

“Oh, you were, but I like to switch things up. I keep it interesting.”

They keep eating and jokingly arguing and not agreeing on a single thing, but then they turn on the game tapes that most of them are supposed to be watching for Monday’s game. It’s like it’s any other day, all of them messing around and groaning about mistakes, except after a few hours, they start changing out of their lounge clothes and into black tuxes with crisp white shirts that they’re under strict instructions not to spill anything on. Emma is just across the hall from him now, and Ariel keeps walking over to make sure that nothing has been ruined.

Between Ariel, Mary Margaret, and Ruth, none of them have any room for error.

Maybe those three should be their coach instead of Al.

The photographer comes and gets Killian and all of his groomsmen around four, they take all of the pictures on the list that he and Emma made up, and then Killian is told to walk out onto the large deck that’s just outside the ballroom. The Hudson is right below them, an expanse of sparkling blue water that makes a spectacular backdrop, and he tries to focus on it even though he knows that he’s standing out here so he and Emma can take their pictures.

She’s been texting him on and off all day, little updates about how things are going, and it’s been odd knowing she’s just around the corner but not with him. And he would be a liar if he said he wasn’t curious what her dress looked like. He never thought he would be a man who cared about something like that, who thought that a dress could make any difference in how he looks at the woman he loves, but he knows that Emma loves this dress. If she does, that’s enough for him to look at her that little bit differently.

Like she’s the most beautiful woman in the world, because to him, she is.

What a day for some sentimental thoughts.

“Hey, handsome,” she sighs, and he immediately turns around at the sound of her voice. “I know you love the water, but I don’t think jumping in is really an option right now.”

“I mean, I could, but this was a bloody expensive tux.”

“Be a shame to ruin it and all that.”

Killian’s finally able to look away from her face and the bright smile there to look down at her dress. It’s not a bright white, exactly. It’s off a little bit, and it hugs her until it gets to her waist where it loosens and begins to flow until it hits the floor. Pearls cover it, a few at the top and then more and more as his eyes scan to the bottom of her dress. It’s different than what he expected, but it’s Emma.

This is Emma.

And she’s gorgeous and radiant, and while he’d marry her again in a courthouse with no pomp and circumstance, he’s glad they get to do this too.

“You look – ”

“I know,” she finishes for him. “We clean up pretty well, Jones.”

“Don’t I know it?” He leans in and brushes his lips over her cheek, lightly so he doesn’t mess up her makeup. “All of our friends are staring at us from inside.”

“Is it creepy?”

“It’s terrifying.”

“Addy and Lucy are very excited. Have you seen them yet?”

“I haven’t had the honor, but I have talked to them on the phone several times. They want to know if they get to tear up your flowers.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I obviously told them yes, so you best watch out for that.”

“I’ll be on the look-out. You want to take some pictures until our faces hurt?”

“Obviously. It’s what I’ve dreamed of since I was a young lad wondering just what this day would be like.”

She gently pushes at his chest. “You had anything to drink there, twenty-nine?”

“I had one small glass of rum, which is nothing compared to the mimosa fest you went on.”

“Hey, now, that was mostly Ruby and Elsa. I, too, only had one glass. Wanted to make sure I’d be able to recognize you. You’re wearing almost the exact same thing as Liam. Wouldn’t want to marry the wrong Jones.”

“Don’t even suggest that.”

“Are you two going to make out now or what?” Ruby yells from the entryway. “Because I need to know which parts of Emma’s makeup I have to fix!”

“She’ll never change, will she?” Emma laughs, her smile as radiant as he’s ever seen it.

“Never.”

They seem to take pictures for hours, pose after pose with just the two of them before they add in the bridal parties and family and have ticked off everything on the list. Emma wasn’t kidding when she said their faces would hurt from smiling so much, and he knows that she has heels on so he imagines her feet are killing her. But soon enough, he’s having to leave Emma back up in the bridal suite while he lines up at the front of the ballroom, ready for Emma to walk down the aisle with all of these people looking at the two of them.

What a weird tradition.

But hey, he gets to marry Emma twice, and he can’t really complain about that.

-/- -/-

“How drunk is Kris right now?”

“Well, he’s starting talking about how much he loves ice, so I think he’s at least five drinks in.”

“Is it six-drink Kris that gets a little frisky?”

“Babe, he’s a married man and a father of two now. His tolerance dipped, and it’s now drink two where he gets frisky.”

“That would explain why he tried to touch my ass earlier.”

Emma laughs and moves her hand to gently shove Killian. His eyes crinkle with his smile, his summer tan making everything seem brighter, and she idly wonders if his face still hurts from smiling for pictures from earlier. Or, well, still smiling now. It’s got to be getting close to ten, and it doesn’t seem like anyone has left the reception. She can’t even remember a time where her face didn’t hurt or where her feet weren’t killing her despite the fact that she chunked her heels at least an hour ago.

It’s been a good day.

Like, really good.

She’s never really had an idea of what her wedding day would be like. It’s not something she imagined in much detail. Maybe it would be a small crowd, just her closest friends and family. This isn’t some extravagant thing, but it’s definitely much bigger than any sane person would call a small crowd. That’s all thanks to Ariel and her constantly coming up with people they forgot or Ruth asking if they could invite some of her friends since they all wanted to see her daughter getting married.

Emma’s heart still flutters every time she thinks about Ruth calling Emma her daughter.

But the extra people and flowers and lights really just make it one better, bigger party, and despite the fact that for awhile she kept getting pulled away to talk to everyone, she really hasn’t had to have that much interaction with the people who aren’t in her close circle.

That’s been nice.

Being able to dance with Killian and eat in a hidden room and not constantly be pulled apart at the seams has been that way too. Half the reason they got married at the courthouse was for fear that they wouldn’t be able to enjoy their wedding day, but that’s not at all what’s happened.

She’s happy. That still, somehow, surprises her sometimes, and she doesn’t want to take it for granted.

“You’re ridiculous, Jones,” Emma laughs, her hand sliding back to rest around Killian’s neck. They’ve had two slow songs in a row, and she’s enjoying the change of pace. “How much longer until I can get you out of this tux?”

His brows raise, and his smile turns salacious. “Look who’s getting frisky now.”

“I mean, I am expecting to get lucky tonight.”

“As you should be. Though, I’m not entirely sure how I’m supposed to get you out of your dress. Are you sewn into it?”

“There’s a small zipper on the side. Don’t break it.”

“Why? You planning on wearing this thing again?”

“I am obviously going to lounge around the apartment in it. No more sweatpants for me. Only gowns.”

“Seems practical.”

“I am always practical.”

Killian dips down and tugs her close as his mouth closes over hers. She can taste rum and cake on his tongue, and she appreciates the mixture of sweet and spice. His kiss doesn’t linger for long, but the feeling of it settles somewhere deep in her belly.

“I love you, my wife.”

“You just love calling me your wife.”

“I do. It’s got a nice ring to it. Makes me feel far more responsible than I am.”

Emma chuckles and shakes her head. He’s an idiot.

“I love you, too. Do you want to – ”

“Hey,” David interrupts, “can I borrow Emma for a minute?”

“What, mate?” Killian laughs, already letting go of her. “Do you not want to dance with me?”

David winks. “We’ll have our time later.”

“Promises, promises.”

“Oh my God, stop.”

“Never, love.” Killian winks and starts stepping away. “Do you want another glass of wine?”

“I do. Oh, and one of those popcorn bags. The – ”

“The cake flavored kind, I know.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a popcorn bar at a wedding before,” David says as he takes Emma’s hands in his and pulls her close. The song is changing to something faster, more upbeat, and while everyone else is changing how they dance, they don’t. “That’s kind of ingenious. I’ve always thought most wedding food was stuffy.”

“Says the man who had the most classic wedding menu in existence.”

David shrugs. “I can’t help it that I didn’t know I could sneak in some classic stadium food but put a gourmet twist on it so we didn’t seem cheap.”

“Eh, screw wedding traditions. Most of them are outdated anyway.”

David smiles and then spins her around, gently letting her go before pulling her back in as laughter rumbles in her chest. Never let it be said that David Nolan doesn’t know how to dance.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way. I don’t remember if I got the chance to tell you that.”

“You did, but thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“What a roundabout way to say I am the most handsome man in this room.”

Emma rolls her eyes. Her brother is also an idiot.

“Maybe to Mary Margaret.”

“Fine, fine,” he sighs, “I guess I can allow you to think that your husband is the most handsome man in the room. How’s that feel, by the way? Any different?”

Emma hums and looks over David’s shoulder to see Killian already holding a glass of wine in one hand, some rum in the other, and a small bag of popcorn sticking out of his shirt as he talks to Will and Belle. He looks ridiculous, and she really should have thought more about having him carry three things.

“Not different,” she answers, trying to figure out what to say. She’s technically been married to Killian for over a month now, and she still hasn’t quite been able to articulate the feeling in her gut. “I don’t really know. I mean, we’ve been pretty much committed to each other from the beginning, and we’ve been living together for a year and a half. I feel like everything is the same, but it’s like…I don’t know. It’s like it feels more permanent that I get to have this family that I found.”

And that, she thinks, is exactly what she’s been trying to say this entire time.

Family.

She’s had David, Mary Margaret, and Ruth for a decade and a half now. She’s had Ruby and Graham for a little less time than that. Then came everyone from the team and all of their partners, including Liam and Elsa and their kids.

And Killian.

He’s her family. She’s known that for a long time now, but there’s something nice about it being official.

Mr. and Mrs. Killian and Emma Jones.

Some kind of official unit who pays joint taxes and argues over what’s for dinner and who has pictures of the two of them on the bookshelf and on the walls.

Never in a million years could she have imagined her life going this way, but it did.

And it really all started because David took her to a Yankees game when she was a teenager. It’s funny how life works like that.

“You deserve all of it and more, kid,” David whispers as he leans down to kiss her forehead. “Tell Killian I’ll steal him for a dance later.”

“Oh, I promise you he’ll somehow find you first.”

David lets go of her hands, and Emma maneuvers away from the dance floor to go get Killian. He’s still talking to Will and Belle, and when she walks up to him, he hands her the glass of wine, and she takes a sip while trying to figure out what the hell they’re talking about.

“He fucking misread my signal.”

Never mind. She knows exactly what they’re talking about.

“Scarlet,” Emma sighs, “just for tonight, let it go. You and Robin can keep having your lovers spat tomorrow when I am not in the country to hear about it.”

“I have an international plan. I can still call you.”

“He is not going to call you,” Belle promises. “I will make sure of it.”

“I know he still will, but maybe I won’t answer.”

“And after all the nice things I said about you today.”

“What nice things did you say about me today?”

“I said you looked beautiful and that you are definitely Killian’s better half.”

Emma smiles into her glass and glances over at Killian. He is simply shaking his head.

“That was last night,” Emma tells Will, “but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Emma,” Lucy interrupts, tugging on Emma’s elbow. She’s miraculously still got no stains on her dress, but her flower crown is a little worse for the wear. “Anna says that we can throw the confetti soon.”

“Yeah? Did she tell you what time, kid?”

“In thirty minutes.”

“Well, I will be sure to be ready for you to throw the confetti at me in thirty minutes, okay? Make sure to get a little on your uncle.”

“That’s what Daddy said too.”

“Hey,” Killian grumbles, “tell your father he can – ”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Emma laughs, turning back to Killian. “Do you think we can get Ariel to pilfer us a few more bags of this popcorn and send them home with us before we leave?”

“I’ve already had it arranged.”

“Ah, you’re knocking it out of the ballpark already, babe.”

“I see the awful sports-related puns never stop.”

“Never.”

Emma’s not really sure where the time goes. One minute she’s talking to Killian, and then the next she’s being pulled away by Ruby and Mary Margaret for some pictures. Then there’s another bite of cake and half a glass of water, and she somehow talks to everyone she knows in half an hour before they’re all throwing little pieces of confetti up in the air as she and Killian walk down a hallway on their way to the car that’s going to take them back to the hotel they’re staying in tonight.

Even the ride to the hotel seems to go in the blink of an eye, like they’re carefully putting a seatbelt over her dress one minute and then trying to figure out how to get her out of the car without the material dragging against the concrete the next.

Time does seem to slow, though, when they get inside the room and Emma can feel Killian’s lips against her neck. They’re warm, much like he is, and a shiver runs down her spine until it settles deep in her belly so that she can have some of Killian’s warmth as well.

It seems to be never-ending.

“On the side, you said?” Killian whispers against her skin.

“What?”

“Your zipper? Where is your zipper?”

“Oh,” Emma laughs, craning her head back against the door, “yeah, it’s on the side. Don’t yank on it. We don’t want a pearl disaster in here.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

Emma’s chest heaves with want and with laughter, and it makes it difficult for Killian to get her zipper down. There was some kind of complicated part, and she ends up helping him, cursing under her breath when it gets stuck before they both get it down.

Team works makes the dream work and all that.

She really has to stop with the sports puns tonight, but her brain seems to always have them now.

Consequences of her job and her husband’s job, she guesses.

After her dress is finally off and carefully draped over a chair, they easily get Killian’s tux off, Emma’s fingers fumbling with the few buttons that are remaining before she tugs his pants down so that everything is resting on the floor. The bed is soft when she lands against it, but she really doesn’t have that much time to think about it when Killian’s head is suddenly between her thighs and she’s reduced to having no thoughts at all.

Damn, he’s good at that.

He’s also good when he sinks into her, warm and steady, and his hands interlace with her above their heads. It’s a gentle rhythm, loving and slow, and she savors the push and the pull, the give and the take, the want and the need.

The way that they fit together in some kind of far too cheesy, puzzle-like kind of way.

And tonight, there’s no added meaning to the way Killian thrusts into her. It’s the same as it almost always is, as it was when they first got together, when they fell in love, when they got married for real. It’s got her gulping for air as Killian kisses her and her hands squeezing his to hold onto the feeling of him for as long as she possibly can.

They’ve got forever, though, so maybe she doesn’t have to hold on too tightly.

Then again, why wouldn’t she when this is everything she never allowed herself to wish for?

-/-

-/-

As always, if you have a prompt for this universe (or another kind), send it to my inbox!

 @mrtinski @bluewildcatfanatic @killianswannn @dorisquinn @onepunintendid @authorarsinoe @stunningswan @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @superchocovian @sals86 @iam2307 @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings​ @carpedzem​ @tornadoamy​ @captainkillianswanjones​

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

[crystalwillow]

Exiled Problems - Chapter One

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey Valentine

Features: Bryce Lahela (introduced in Ch. 5)

Word Count: 1.9K

Warning: This AU features themes of; Angst, Swearing, Alcohol Use, Violence, NS*FW Material (Mature themes 18+)

Taglist: @sophxwithers @otakudreamer @an-jell-o @curiousconch @mm2305

====================

Casey Valentine. The most beautiful woman Ethan Ramsey, an established diagnostician, had ever had the privilege of meeting in the ER at Edenbrook Hospital. Not only was she beautiful outside but inside too, and when she spoke her voice sounded like a chorus of angels singing from the heavens above. She was the complete opposite of himself personality-wise. He was very stoic and came across as rude and condescending, but she was the politest, most happy person he had ever seen. So naturally, when they crossed paths at a restaurant approximately two months later he was surprised when she left him her number and instructions to call her when he had a spare moment on her way out. What could she possibly want from him? They were as close as strangers and admittedly, she was way out of his league. Nevertheless, that weekend around 2:30 pm on Sunday he dialled her number from his house phone, and after exactly 4 rings someone picked up.

“Hello, Miss Valentine’s PA, may I ask who is calling?”

Stumped, Ethan blinked for a few moments before stuttering out his reply. “Uh.. yes. Hello, this is Ethan Ramsey.”

“The doctor Miss Valentine saw two months ago?”

“Yes,” Ethan confirmed in a professional tone.

“Is everything okay? Did you need me to pass on a message sir?”

“Actually, I was hoping to speak with her personally. It’s... a delicate matter.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Ethan got a response. “...I see. Just give me one moment.”

“Of course,” Ethan said and listened as he was placed on hold. A few moments later the receiver picked up again and Ethan focused back in on the call.

“Hello, Casey Valentine speaking. How may I be of assistance?”

“Hello. It’s Dr Ramsey.”

Ethan’s heart fluttered as he listened to her giggle on the other end of the line. “I’m trusting that this isn’t a work-related call to my visit a couple of months ago?” she questioned with a warm undertone to her voice.

“Uh... no. I-”

Ethan felt awkward. What was he doing? He hadn’t spoken with anyone like this for years and suddenly he’s thinking he “has game” to talk to one of the prettiest people he’s ever met. Foolish. At least that’s what he told himself.

“So.. you’re calling following my suggestion to do so from the other night then?”

“That would be cor- er, yes. I am.”

She giggled again. God, could she stop doing it? It was now affecting Ethan’s stomach and setting off a small butterfly effect with how beautiful it sounds.

“Oh-kayyy. You seem like a very cut to the chase kind of guy. Would you prefer it if I done that?”

“I- You cou- Well..”

How did she have him so figured out? They’d met twice, very briefly and she could already read his exterior like a book she’d held a thousand times, yet returned to even though she knew it ended in death.

She chuckled and took a sip of water. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Okay,” Ethan said, octaves higher than he wanted to.

“I’m intrigued by you, Ethan. So, if you’re single I have a proposal.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want to take you on a date. 2 weeks from now on a Wednesday.”

“What time?”

Ethan immediately found himself facepalming. What time? Why did he ask that? What effect was this woman having on him? He didn’t date. He was Ethan Ramsey for crying out loud. He was Edenbrook’s grumpy diagnostician, no time for anyone outside of work other than his dad and the family dog. Now he’s suddenly agreeing to go on a date, something he hasn’t done in over ten years.

“I’ll send you the details after we hang up this call.”

“Cool.”

Ethan took a deep inhale and held it as Casey spoke again.

“Awesome. I look forward to seeing you again.”

“Yeah. You too.”

And with that after a very quick goodbye, Ethan hung up his end of the line and threw his phone in the drawer of his bedside table and headed to the kitchen and fixed himself a glass of scotch, downing it in one and pouring another, taking a seat on the couch and turning on the television to the news channel. Anything he could use as background noise.

As the next two weeks passed, there were days for Ethan that felt like a drag. He was barely focused on work and kept finding his mind drifting to Casey and her giggle. Finally, the day of the date arrived. Ethan had juggled his shifts at the hospital so he could have the day off. They were meeting at a quaint little café on the outskirts of town, closer to where Casey lived. When he arrived, he walked in and immediately spotted her in the far corner. But spotting her wouldn’t be hard for anyone who walked through the door, she was the only customer there. Ethan swallowed then made his way over to the table, politely clearing his throat upon reaching it. Casey snapped her attention up from the book she was reading and smiled at him.

“Hi!” She greeted, standing up and giving him a hug, and with surprising ease, he hugged back.

“Hi.” He said back as they took their seats.

“I hope you don’t mind but I ordered our coffee to be brought over upon your arrival.”

“I... don’t mind at all.”

“Great!” Casey grinned as a waitress placed two coffee’s on the table.

“One vanilla latte for you ma’am and a Vienna for you sir.”

Ethan stared at Casey astonished as the waitress walked off, but she just smiled before sipping her latte. Ethan copied her action before the two settled into conversation.

“So. Dr Ramsey. Or do you prefer Ethan outside of the professional setting?”

“Uh... Ethan works just... fine.” He answered with a tight smile.

Casey gave a small nod accompanied by a sweet smile. “Ethan. What is work really like for you?”

“There are... times when it’s... stressful at best. But overall, I enjoy my line of work.”

“I see,” Casey said thoughtfully, taking a bigger gulp of her drink.

“And what about you Miss. Valentine? What is it that you do?”

“Hm? Me? Oh, I uh. Help out with the family business.”

“And what business is that?”

“Landscaping. I take care of the admin side of things.”

It was Ethan’s turn to nod and take a gulp of his drink as the waitress brought over a rather large brunch for the two of them. And Casey watched in amusement as Ethan’s eyes widened and she thanked the waitress for the food.

“What? You don’t have to eat it all if you can’t manage it.” She challenged, a small smirk gracing her features to accompany the smugness in her eyes.

“I could manage this perfectly fine.” Ethan retorted nonchalantly as he picked up his cutlery and cut into some fried potatoes.

They ate their meals with companionable small talk for the next few moments, before ending up discussing the book Casey was reading upon Ethan’s arrival.

“...but, it’s a good book. I’m truly enjoying it so far. What about you? I get the sense that you’re more of a non-fiction kind of guy. You don’t seem to care much for, nor believe in fairytale endings.”

Ethan took a deep breath before exhaling. “Okay. How are you doing this?” he word vomited, clearly spooked now.

“Doing what?” Casey questioned.

“Reading me like a... like a book!” he exclaimed.

“OH, thaaaattt. It’s somewhat a hidden talent of mine. Although I do tend to forget myself sometimes and end up in situations similar to this. It’s scared many potential matches away, that my parents would have liked for me to be wed to.” Casey sighed as she finished the last bite of bacon on her plate. Ethan’s brows furrow with empathy for the beautiful woman opposite him.

“You’ve had partners… arranged for you?”

“Yeah.” Casey smiled sadly, “It’s part of the social circle I travel in.”

“I thought that only happened with... Royalty.”

“Mainly. But some upper-class families, like mine, adopt and keep the tradition.”

“And when did your family do that exactly? Adopt the tradition that is.”

“About 12 generations ago. I don’t know exactly. The thought of being passed off like prized cattle doesn’t exactly enthral me.” Casey sighed, finishing off her coffee.

“I wouldn’t exactly be thrilled either,” Ethan commented, giving a sympathetic smile.

Casey opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by her phone jingling in her bag. “Sorry,” she sighed as she closed her eyes taking a deep breath before fishing her phone out of her bag. Her eyes rolled back as she saw the contact.

“I… won’t be a moment.”

She got up as she answered the phone, putting on a fake happiness “Mother…”

Ethan sat back in his seat as Casey’s footsteps retreated outside, he watched as she paced back a forth. His sympathy grew a little as he noted a change in the tone of the conversation. As he waited he called over the waitress.

“What can I do for you?” She asked with a polite smile.

“Could I get 2 large hot chocolates added to our tab, please? And then I’d like to pay that tab.”

“Of course. I’ll be back with you in a few moments.”

“Thank you.” Ethan smiled.

Casey was still outside when the waitress brought the drinks and tab over, Ethan busied himself with paying it as the bell over the door tinkled and Casey rentered, taking her seat with a huff.

“I cannot believe that wo- oh! Did you-?” She asks looking at Ethan perplexed.

“What? You thought you were the only one who could read people like books?” He smirked, taking a sip of his beverage, cream sticking to his moustache and making Casey giggle.

“What?”

“Did you want a razor with that cream?” She joked. Ethan broke out into a smile that was accompanied with laughter, and Casey smiled back.

“I can see why you’re at the top of your year, morse so in the top of the best in your field.”

“Really?”

“Really. I mean, to be a fellow diagnostician must take a lot of brains.”

Ethan chuckles softly as shakes his head.

“What?” Casey asks innocently.

“You know what.” Ethan retorts.

They carry on talking and flirting for a while longer before Casey announces she has to go. Casey packs her things away and pulls out her wallet to pay the tab, but gives Ethan a perplexed look when he stops her, telling her to put it away.

“Why?” She asks curiously.

“I’ve already paid. Whilst you were outside on the phone.”

Casey exhales and places her wallet back in her purse and smiles at him softly, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to.” Ethan smiled.

They walk outside together and hug goodbye before heading their separate ways. Ethan stood by his car for a few moments, taking in deep breaths of fresh air and he watched a plane in the sky briefly. As he looked back down he saw Casey driving off and waved goodbye once more.

After he arrived home, Ethan felt compelled to let Casey know he had arrived home safely, though he fought against the urge to do so. They’d been on one date. Instead, he called his father to arrange his next trip down to Providence and catch up, though he left out any details about having been on a date, he knew if he brought that up he would never hear the end of it.

Instead, he decided to do his nightly routine and got straight into bed. Excited for tomorrow to come and the prospect of finding out what his future had in store for in the first time for a decade.

#choices stories you play #playchoices #pixelberry studios #choices fanfiction #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey fanficton #open heart fanfic au #ethan ramsey #casey valentine #ethan x casey #open heart: second year #open heart: third year #open heart

[lilacsos]

Denial LH Part One

A/N: Howdy! This is the first thing I’ve written in a hot minute and I actually really like it. Fun fact when I first thought of this I thought of Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds so yeah. All flashbacks are in italics :)

Words: 4330

Pairing: Luke x Gender Neutral Reader

*Warnings*: Mentions of cheating and throwing stuff, I think like one swear word, oh and I named someone Nicole because I needed a name so sorry if that’s your name

Summary: You and Luke are close childhood friends. Despite what Ashton says, you’re just friends, nothing more and nothing less. Right?

Masterlist  Taglist (newest one)  *if you were on any previous taglist please put your info on this one*

“Come on Luke! We can’t be late!” The squeaky voice of a small child shouted as they ran down the sidewalk, running as fast as their short legs could carry them.

Behind them, a young blonde boy rushed to try and keep up. “Don’t leave me behind! We have to stay together; my mom will be very upset if I tell her you left me!” The other person groaned and stopped moving while a triumphant smirk made its way onto Luke’s face. “Besides, it’s also your fault that we’re running late Y/N.”

With a roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest and tapped your foot on the ground as you waited. “Luke we both stopped to pet the dog but you stopped first and like you said, your mom will be very upset if I left you.” You giggled, your own smirk forming. Once Luke finally caught up, you grabbed the young boy by the wrist and dragged him as you continued to run home. You and your family moved into the house next to Luke only three months ago but the two of you quickly became friends and now walked home from school together. You were only ever late once and the disappointed look from Mrs. Hemmings was enough to make sure you were never late again.

You both kept running and in the distance, you could see your houses. With a look at his watch, Luke slowed down to walk. “We have enough time to walk. Unless you enjoy running.” Luke smiled as you also slowed down, walking in step with him. “What do you think of Mr. Martin’s project?”

“I can’t believe he wants us to write a whole paragraph about what we want to be when we grow up! We’re seven!” You threw your hands up into the air with an exasperated whine. “I don’t know what I wanna be. Do you?”

“Yeah!” Luke’s eyes lit up in the afternoon sun and his lips curved into possibly the biggest smile to ever be seen. He bounced a little as he walked and his hands flew out in front of him as he said, “I’m gonna be a rockstar! I’ll sing and play a guitar and have a really cool band. I’ll be so rich and famous I could buy all of Australia!”

Despite Luke’s contagious excitement, you grew quiet, kicking away a pebble. Luke continued to share his dream as you walked the rest of the way home. As you approached the houses, you could each see Mrs. Hemmings through the kitchen window and the smell of dinner wafted out of the open front door. “Luke,” you began, stopping Luke from walking. “When you’re a famous rockstar, promise you won’t forget me.”

Luke cocked his head to the side but his smile never faded. “Of course I won’t forget you! You’re my best friend in the whole world. I could never forget you.” His arms wrapped around you, tugging you close as he tried to hug the worry out of you. “Hey, maybe you can be my maid.” Luke giggled as he was pushed away.

“Then I would have to clean up after you! I’ll never be your maid!” You squealed and ran to your front door and Luke ran to his.

“You’ll change your mind when you see the paycheck!”

“Hello? Earth to Y/N!” You shook your head as the memory faded and the current world took its place. Luke rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder, gesturing to the man waiting to take your order.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You mumbled before giving him your order. The other people at the table laughed which only caused you to roll your eyes. “Will you four shut up?” You and Luke were no longer seven like you were in your memory but most things didn’t change. He still told you horrible jokes when you were upset, you still played rock-paper-scissors when you couldn’t decide who got shotgun, and you were still best friends. Just like Luke told you all those years ago, he became a rockstar. He got to sing and play guitar with a ‘really cool’ band. As Luke’s best friend, Michael, Calum, and Ashton easily became your other best friends and you continued to be the number one 5 Seconds of Summer fan. Out of all of them, excluding Luke, you were the closest to Ashton. He was very easy to get along with; his only flaw is that he had this outlandish idea that you were in love with Luke.

“What were you thinking about anyway?” Ashton asked, sipping his coffee. There was a glint in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was mischief or maybe the morning light was changing things.

“Just when Luke and I were kids and he told me he was going to be a rockstar.”

“And I offered to let you be my maid but you refused my offer.” Luke chuckled and bumped your shoulder again.

Michael snorted and rolled his eyes. “So even as a child Y/N didn’t want to put up with your bullshit.” The table erupted with laughs and Luke’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, tugging you close to his chest as he smooshed your cheeks together between his fingers. You giggled and jabbed your fingers into his sides, causing him to squeal and let you go. Luke continued to giggle and the sound made your heart warm. His laugh was easily your favorite sound in the world. If you ever had a horrible day, all you needed was to hear Luke’s laugh to turn your day around. A smile easily appeared on your face as you looked to your left to see Luke smiling back at you. You stayed like that for a moment until the waiter came back and set your brunch in front of you.

Before you dug into your meal, you could have sworn you saw Ashton nudge Calum while smirking in your direction.

...

“I feel like I just ate my body weight in pancakes.” Calum groaned and slouched down in his chair. A murmur of agreement came from the others around the table before Ashton cleared his throat.

“We can always work off brunch by going on a walk.” You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes; of course Ashton would be the one to suggest a walk. With their own sounds of disapproval, the boys shook their heads. “Oh come on. There’s a nice park close by.”

Luke sighed and shrugged. “I’m sure it’s nice Ash but taking a walk in the park isn’t going to be easy for us.” He had a point. It was hard for any of the boys to go places without their pictures being taken or getting stopped. Of course they loved getting to talk to fans but sometimes they just wanted to have a normal day.

“Fine if you three won’t come with, will you Y/N?” Ashton asked, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout as he leaned across the table, taking your hands into his. You were going to agree with him that a walk sounded wonderful but you didn’t even have the chance to answer him. “Great!” He tugged you away from the table, gathering your things for you before he rushed off towards the park.

“Well,” you began with a sigh, glancing back at Luke. “Guess I’ll see you guys after my walk. See you later Mike, Cal, Bubs.” With that, you ran after Ashton, punching his shoulder when you caught up to him. “What was that for? I was going to go with you so you didn’t need to force me.”

Ashton shrugged and threw his arm around your shoulders. “I wanted to talk to you without anyone snooping and since the other three didn’t want to come, it seemed like a good chance to talk.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and your hands grew clammy. You had nothing to be scared of but you couldn’t help how your fight or flight instinct kicked in and right about now, you were ready to run away as fast as you could. “About what?”

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest at your question. “I just wanted to ask if you thought you were being slick.” What? You stopped walking and looked over at him. What on earth was he talking about? You must have looked as confused as you felt because he continued. “I mean you really don’t think we can’t tell about your little crush right? Luke might be dense but not everyone else is.”

A groan escaped your lips and you rolled your eyes, continuing your walk as your heart rate returned to normal. “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t have a crush on Luke.”

“Of course you do Y/N. You always sit next to him, you’re constantly touching him, and god the dopey look you get when you look at him. You can’t tell me you never felt anything more than friendship.”

Ashton looked ready to continue but a group of young girls walked over and asked for photos. You’ve never been more thankful for fans than you were in that moment. Luke was just your friend and that was it. There was no other emotion and Ashton needed to let it go. Of course there was that time he was dared to kiss you.

You were both 16 and hormones mostly controlled your brain. In only a few short weeks, your boys would be going off to tour with One Direction. You were flooded with pride when Luke told you about the tour and you both promised to spend as much time together as you could before he left. You and the four boys crammed yourselves into Luke’s bedroom, stuffing your faces with snacks and giggling at the horrible dares you all came up with. At some point, Michael dared Calum to slow dance with Luke’s brother Jack and while he did it, the dare was lame.

“Luke, your turn. Truth or dare.” Calum asked, leaning against the bed as he tried to throw some popcorn into his mouth.

“I’ll go with dare.” Luke chuckled and leaned over, elbowing you in the side. “Cal has the worst dares so it can’t be that bad.”

Calum smirked and took a quick glance at Ashton before speaking. “Well then, I dare you to kiss Y/N.” Silence filled the room as you and Luke looked at each other. You could feel your body start to heat up and you told yourself it was just because you were embarrassed, not because you liked Luke. Luke looked as red as you felt and you wondered if he was just scared or if there was something else. But you quickly shot that thought down; Luke was your best friend so certainly he didn’t have any feelings for you. Which was great because you didn’t have any towards him.

“Pick a different dare Calum. I can’t kiss Y/N, they haven’t kissed anyone before.” It was true. You had never kissed anyone before and it didn’t bother you since it doesn’t matter when you kiss someone. But was that really the only reason Luke didn’t want to kiss you? Calum did just say that he had to kiss you, not shove his tongue down your throat. Luke looked between you and Calum, trying to figure out just what to do. Calum shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Luke begin to lose his mind. “Is this alright with you? If you don’t want this then we don’t have to.”

You nodded and rubbed your hands on the carpet. “It’s fine Bubs. At least my first kiss will be with someone that actually cares about me and not some jerk.” You said with a nervous laugh, hoping that Luke wouldn’t be upset that you were fine with it.

“Right, ok then.” Luke mumbled and scooted over to you, his shaky hands coming to rest on your cheeks. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” You nodded and Luke took one last look at Calum over his shoulder before he leaned in. His lips quickly pressed against yours and you were surprised at how soft they were. You were also surprised at how nice and natural it felt to have his mouth moving against yours; you didn’t want it to end. He was warm and the way his lips fit yours almost perfectly was new and wonderful. You weren’t exactly sure what a kiss was supposed to feel like but you felt light and like you were floating on a cloud. Everything around you faded away and in that moment, it was just you and Luke, lip locked. Quickly and suddenly, Luke pulled away and sat back in his spot, rubbing his lips with his fingers. His face was flushed an even darker shade of red and the room suddenly felt like it was 50 degrees hotter. The other three boys giggled and Ashton winked at you.

“So how was your first kiss?” Michael snorted and looked at Luke who was looking at anything but you. How were you supposed to answer that? You certainly weren’t going to tell anyone how nice it felt but you couldn't say it was bad and hurt Luke.

“It was a kiss? How was it supposed to feel?” You decided it was a good enough answer.

“No fireworks? No butterflies or tingling sensations?” Ashton asked, leaning forward. Maybe that was a good way to describe your feelings but before you could come up with a lie, Luke jumped to his feet and ran out the door, mumbling about getting water. You glared and shoved Ashton as you ran after Luke, catching up to him in the kitchen.

“Are you alright?” You whispered, feeling like anything louder would break open a dam of emotions you weren’t ready to tackle. Luke sighed and leaned against the counter, gesturing for you to do the same.

“I should be asking you that. I just took your first kiss because of a dumb game.” He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. “Are you ok?”

“Of course.” It was a lie. You didn’t feel fine at all. You were confused and worried about just how nice that kiss was. “Luke if I wasn’t alright with it then I would have said something.” He nodded but remained quiet. For a few moments, neither of you talked or moved; you just watched the cars out the window as they drove by. “So, are you alright?”

Luke nodded and turned, looking at you for the first time in ten minutes. “I am, I just don’t want this to mess anything up or ruin our friendship. I mean I just kissed you, it was a little weird.” He laughed.

Right. He didn’t feel anything for you and so of course this was weird for him. Not that it wasn’t weird for you too because you didn’t like him. You rolled your eyes, shoving your confusion down for the time being and elbowed Luke. “Nothing is going to change our friendship, not even a weird kiss.”

Luke smiled and bumped his shoulder against yours. Despite telling yourself that you felt nothing towards your best friend, you couldn’t stop the queasy feeling in your stomach as Luke looked at you. You must have eaten something weird because there was no way you were feeling butterflies. “Let’s get back to the guys. Maybe we can make Calum kiss Michael as payback.”

You blinked away the memory, feeling Ashton’s eyes on you. The fans must have left when you were zoned out since you didn’t see anyone around. “So, you’re sure you don’t like Luke?”

“Yes Ashton. I’m sure so can you drop it?”

“I’ll drop it when you realize you’re in denial.” He said with a shrug while you both continued on your walk.

“It isn’t denial. You’re just imagining things.”

...

A week later, Luke texted you and the other boys about a party he was going to throw at his house. He didn’t tell you exactly why he wanted to throw a party but he did mention he had an announcement and an important question for you. Your first thought was that he was going to ask you out but you convinced yourself that you were just confused. Ashton refused to back off and he constantly told you that you were in denial. At this point, you almost believed him.

The night of the party, you got dressed and waited for Ashton to pick you up. He was out picking up some drinks so he told you he would pick you up and drive you home. Well, he didn’t exactly say he would drive you home. He was positive that a certain blonde boy would be inviting you to stay the night with him tonight. Ashton must be confused because Luke wasn’t going to ask you out. He’s still so hurt from his last relationship that ended only a few months ago.

The sound of your phone ringing had woken you up late one night. Normally you would have ignored the call but when you saw Luke’s name light up on the screen, you answered. “Luke? What is it? It’s three in the morning.” He didn’t answer but on the other end, you could hear his sniffles and what sounded like a choked sob. “Luke? Bubs what is it? Talk to me.”

“She cheated on me.” He sounded so small and broken; fury rushed through your veins. You never liked his girlfriend but he was happy with her. Now that all has changed. You threw your blankets off your bed and tugged on a jacket and some slippers.

“I’ll be there in five minutes.” His soft reply was almost too hard to hear before he hung up the phone. All you wanted to do was find this girl and beat her into the ground but Luke needed you. He was always a sensitive boy and this was going to crush him. He cried watching Finding Nemo as a 23 year old for god’s sake; how was he going to survive this? You quickly ran out the door and made your way to Luke’s house as quickly as you could. When you pulled up, you fumbled with your keys, searching for the one he had given you. Finally you found it and unlocked the door, coming in to see Luke on the couch, surrounded by broken furniture and staring blankly at the wall. Wordlessly, you stepped over the mess and sat next to him, pulling his head to rest on your chest. As soon as he made contact, the tears poured out and his body quaked as the sobs tore out of his throat. Your hands found his hair, combing through the curls in a hope to comfort him. There was nothing you could say to make this better, you both knew that. All you could do was hold him until he was ready to talk.

Almost an hour later, the tears stopped flowing and Luke grew quiet once more. “Want some water?” You asked, drying his face with the sleeves of your jacket. He nodded but when you went to stand, he clung onto you, making you stumble and fall back onto the couch. “I have to stand to get you water Bubs. You can come with.” Luke nodded once more and let you go just long enough for you both to stand before his hand gripped yours, keeping you close. It was hard to avoid stepping on broken glass with the giant man holding onto you but you both managed to get into the kitchen. Once you filled a cup with water, he took it from your grasp, sipping at it as he looked at the mess around you both. The kitchen wasn’t much better as you could see crushed mugs and even a blender on the floor. “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to.” Your free hand came back to his hair, brushing it out of his face. You almost expected him to refuse but slowly, he started talking.

“I came home from a party, she didn’t want to go, said she felt sick.” He swallowed thickly and you began to rub his back, encouraging him to continue but not pushing him. “Some asshole was all over her on the couch. Half naked. His hands were,” he took a shaky breath before continuing on a new topic. “She told me it was an accident but how could it have been? He was in my house.” At this, tears fell once more but he continued to talk. “I threw a vase at them. He left and she started yelling and throwing things at me. Said it was my fault she cheated. That she wouldn’t have to if I was around more. We threw more things and then she packed up her shit and she’s gone.”

“Oh god Luke. I’m so sorry.” You took your hand out of his grasp and rested your hands on his cheeks. “What can I do?” He was going to be hurt for a while and nothing could change that. But if there was something, anything, that would make him hurt just a little less, you would do it.

“Can you stay the night? I don’t want to be alone.” He sounded like a child, coming to his parent’s room, asking to sleep with them. You leaned in and kissed his forehead before nodding.

“Of course Bubs. Anything you need, I’ll do it.”

Three sharp knocks on your door broke you out of your trance and you scrambled over to the door, unsure of how long the person had been there. When the door opened, you smiled at Ashton. “Ready to be fashionably late to the party?” He chuckled as he took you to his car. The first half of the drive was pretty quiet, filled with the sounds of the radio. “So,” Ashton began, smiling widely, “how’s the water in denial?”

“What?” You could only assume he was still on his bullshit about you liking Luke but you could never tell with Ashton.

“Denial. You know since you still refuse to believe Luke likes you. He told me he had an important question to ask you tonight so you’d better admit your feelings to yourself fast before he asks you out. He’s in love with you Y/N.”

“You don’t even know if that’s the question Ash.”

“No, I suppose not.” Despite his words, the smile never left his face. Maybe he knew something you didn’t. Was it possible that Luke wanted to ask you out tonight? Maybe Luke had some secret romantic feelings for you that Ashton knew about. Maybe you had some romantic feelings for him. Ashton stopped the car outside of Luke’s house and smirked at you. “Just be ready for anything tonight.”

It was actually a pretty small party which surprised you. It looked like Luke had only invited friends and a few other people in the music industry, which was fine. You actually liked the smaller parties since it felt more normal and not like a rager thrown by a rockstar. Ashton grabbed your arm and dragged you into the house, looking for Luke. He wasn’t too hard to find since he was taller than at least 90% of the people here. He was standing in the living room with Michael and Calum by his side. “You’re here!” Luke cheered, and pulled you in for a hug. “I’m so excited for tonight. I can’t wait to talk to you.”

Butterflies, yes butterflies, jumped around your stomach as you listened to him talk. Shit. Maybe you really did like him. Was it possible that all this time you had just been in denial like Ashton thought? You always found Luke attractive but you never dared to think of him in a more than friendly way. His white shirt only brought out the blue of his eyes that much more and dear lord did his hair look perfect. “Lukey!” A squeal broke you out of your thoughts and from the other side of the room, a girl ran over. You had never seen her before and while you didn’t know all of Luke's friends, you thought you knew most of them. The girl jumped and Luke caught her in his arms before he leaned in and kissed her. Yeah, he was definitely kissing her. Your heart completely shut down as you watched his lips move against hers. He slowly set her back on her feet and with a sheepish smile, he looked back at you and the boys.

“This is what I wanted to tell you guys. This is my girlfriend, Nicole.” All at once, you could feel your heart shatter into a million pieces and your gut dropped down to your feet. That’s not possible. How does Luke have a girlfriend? You watched as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his side as she kissed his cheek. That should be you. You should be the one jumping into his arms and kissing him. He should be holding you like that, not her. Who did she think she was? Was she just dating Luke for the fame and money? Was she using him? You felt a hand on your arm and looked over to see Ashton, who looked like he had seen a ghost. He was wrong. Luke didn’t love you at all. He loved Nicole.

“Y/N? Are you ok?” Ashton whispered, trying to get you to look away from the couple.

“Denial.” You whispered, unsure if the words actually even left your mouth.

“What?”

“Denial Ash. It was denial.” Without another word, you turned and ran out of the house. What the fuck?

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