#clara had also been throwing up for like a month now but they think shes just been scarfing it down too fast lol

[citrlet]

had a trip at the vet with one of my cats and found out they both most likely have feline herpes

#im very emotional about my babies so of course i cried #but im reassured by the vet saying most cats have it and it doesnt really affect them #it feels so good having an answer for it though because we took her to the vet a few weeks ago #and they just gave us some eye drops for a week and then were like 🤷‍♀️ we dont know whats going on #clara had also been throwing up for like a month now but they think shes just been scarfing it down too fast lol #we got auto feeders now so we're hoping that helps and that they lose a little weight theyre pretty chunky haha

[antiquatedplumbobs]

Spring 1916

It was spring in Brindleton, which meant the calving season was in full swing and sleep was a luxury no longer promised. The whole family felt the strain of it, Hamish and Will the most, but little Charlie came in a close third as Hamish insisted it was time he learned the ropes. Will had experienced almost ten full calving seasons. One morning — when he was unable to crawl to bed until well after the sun rose and breakfast had been served — he found himself desperately glad he wouldn't experience another.

With barely any time for sleep, Will hadn’t seen Clara in weeks. It wasn’t as if she had all the time in the world, either: her own family’s herd wasn’t much smaller than that of Sable Dairy. Despite each other's absence, it would seem neither was far from the other's thoughts. Will had found a small basket of still-warm rolls and a crock of honey sitting on the front stoop in the pearly near dawn that morning; Clara’s initials neatly embossed on the corner of the napkin they were wrapped in.

Will had been unable to stop thinking about Clara after Hamish’s well-intentioned question, and once he began thinking about Clara, he began thinking of his own friends' lives. He had uncomfortably realized that they were all married or engaged, leaving him the only bachelor. Albert and Posie were close to celebrating their second anniversary, and a baby was expected to mark the occurrence. Clive and his new wife had set up his medical practice in a small house overlooking the bay (after throwing the most extravagant wedding the town had seen in years). John — always the more wild of the group — had fallen head over heels for the new baker’s assistant and spent the past six months making an absolute fool of himself as he wooed her. The entire town had breathed a sigh of relief when she had accepted his proposal and the antics came to a halt.

Will had laughed along with everyone else at John (good-naturedly of course) but he had also harbored a secret jealousy of his friend. To find someone and fall so deeply in love so quickly that you would prize your love above all else seemed to Will like a true gift. His father’s stories of love at first sight had set him up with lofty expectations, and Will was still trying to readjust them to fall in line with everyone else's. Most folks knew they wouldn't immediately fall deeply in love; successful, well-matched marriages were built on a foundation of mutual respect and well-matched interests. Clara was a good match for Will.

He had repeated that line over and over again, trying to imbue the truth of it into himself. He repeated it as he looked over the array of delicate rings nestled in velvet at the jeweler's in Britechester; he repeated it as the simple ring was wrapped by the portly jeweler and he parted with a sum greater than any he had ever spent; he repeated it as he sat on the train home, unable to keep from staring at the unassuming ring in its small red box. He had repeated it until it became his truth. He had the ring; her father's blessing had been secured the week before, now all that was left was asking Clara to be his wife.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

next / previous / first

#ts4 story #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 historical #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 #sims 4 #sewell legacy #sewell 1910s #william sewell #frederick sewell #hamish sewell #charles sewell

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

thinking about clara telling 12 he made courtney feel not special and 12 at the end of the lie of the land telling bill “because in amongst seven billion, theres someone like you” and bill looking like

and 11 telling rita in the god complex "offer a child a suitcase full of sweets and they’ll take it. offer someone all of time and space and they’ll take that too. which is why you shouldnt” in that fucking self-flagellating but also proud way they do and rita says “i dont know what youre talking about but whatever it is, i have a feeling you just did it again” because they did

they know they know they know what they do and clara didnt have to tell them theyve been doing this long enough they know. and they dont like it but theyre not gonna stop doing it either which must be Great for the self-worth feelings. they have a job to do and they cant stop doing it but they also cant do it alone but also anyone they take with them will most likely get hurt or die

this is nothing new but it’s just. im thinking about the way they do it. the way they absolutely know the effect they have on people. “you make people want to impress you. you make it so they dont want to let you down”

how casually 12 throws out that line, so genuine, i 100% believe it feels true when they say stuff like that, but also bill just had a Bad 6 months. he didnt have to say this. bill asked why he puts up with humans he could say something nice about humanity as a whole, but he doesnt, he singles her out, “i put up with the rest of them because sometimes theres someone like you”. it’s sweet and i dont think it’s a lie and i dont even think it’s a conscious manipulation but like

it’s just like, a really good way to keep people with you when you make them feel like theyre at the centre of the universe like that. the universe revolves around the doctor and when youre in the eye of the storm with them youre so special. you know more than regular people, you get to know all the secrets of the universe, you get to know about aliens, you get to play hero along with them!

ROSE: I can't tell her. I can't even begin. She's never going to forgive me. And I missed a year. Was it good? DOCTOR: Middling. ROSE: You're so useless. DOCTOR: Well, if it's this much trouble, are you going to stay here now? ROSE: I don't know. I can't do that to her again, though. DOCTOR: Well, she's not coming with us. ROSE: No chance. DOCTOR: I don't do families. [...] ROSE: My mum was right. That is one hell of an age gap. Every conversation with you just goes mental. There's no one else I can talk to. I've seen all that stuff up there, the size of it, and I can't say a word. Aliens and spaceships and things, and I'm the only person on planet Earth who knows they exist.

being the object of the doctor’s affection is i think probably a bit of a horrifying experience and not a position you really want to be in, but as long as youre still in that Comments About How Theyre Putting Up With All Of Humanity Because They Like You stage and havent yet reached the Tearing The Sky Apart For You stage, it probably feels really good (do i look susceptible to companion syndrome in this post hkfjghj)

and like i said it’s not that they dont actually love their companions. of course they do. it’s just that if youre terrified of being abandoned, making people feel special like this is a good way to make them not leave you

and i think 13 probably did her best not to do this again. she didnt invite them along to new adventures at the end of 11x1. she initiates goodbyes i think three times (”ive stayed too long, i should get back to finding my tardis”, “im almost gonna miss you”, “guess we’re done, nice having you aboard”) before the fam ask to come with her

and sure she plays the kicked puppy a bit in 11x4 but she waits for yaz to invite her, shes relatively passive, actually for the doctor shes incredibly passive. and she enjoys letting them into the tardis in 11x2, but she doesnt tease really secrets and wonders if they come travel with her. she doesnt really introduce them to the tardis, she doesnt say what the name means, she doesnt let them touch anything, nobody says “it’s bigger on the inside”, she doesnt invite them to all of time and space. she doesnt suggest it could be theirs to see. i dont think she ever does. just what the fam got to see accidentally was already enough to convince them.

i really need to rewatch so i might be wrong about this, but i dont think she ever makes them feel special the same way the doctor did with companions before. she makes them feel special like a tour guide maybe, with her little points and stars system, and calling them best friends, small mundane ways that dont show off her age or history or influence. i dont think she ever suggests theyre more important than other people. i think she emphasises her love for humans as a whole. i think thats the impression they get from her. i think thats what they would say if you asked them about her. “yeah she loves humanity. me? yeah she probably likes me, we’re friends”

she never puts them in a position where theyre the only one who can save the day/world/planet/universe. she always puts herself between them and the problem. she always goes ‘no im the doctor, thats my job’. she takes that responsibility so they dont have to. they take it! when they feel like theyre forced to! when the doctor’s gone in 12x2 or 12x10, they take that responsibility for sure. i think they want to, not just yaz but especially yaz. but they feel unprepared. the doctor hasnt prepared them for this bc she doesnt want them in that position bc in that position they die.

and clearly this has not been ideal. this has not led to an ideal doctor-companion dynamic, we’ve seen how this has hurt 13 as well as especially i think yaz and ryan deeply. but the strategy has been succesful. she lost her last two companions bc she didnt get between them and the problem. with bill literally, with clara metaphorically. (going back even further this might also be the case for amy and donna and rose. she let them into positions she should have been in taking decisions she should have taken)

and however badly things have gone for 13, the strategies of Get Between Them And The Problem, and Be The Doctor Dont Let Them Do It, have WORKED. she GOT THEM HOME. if yaz doesnt die, and im willing to bet money she doesnt, she got them all home safe and sound

14′s relationship with their companions will probably be a response to what went wrong in this round and it will have its own pitfalls that 15 then gets to fix but theyre trying, theyre learning. one step forward two steps back i guess. a fun little tango with death

#im curious to see how 14's relationship with their compainons will look #and how they introduce themself #and how the companion ends up travelling with them

[eponymous-rose]

All of the pet urgent care facilities are either closed or at capacity today, so it’s time to yell my Cat Anxieties into the void until they open tomorrow. Advice greatly appreciated.

Cut for gross cat stuff (tw: emetophobia).

So Clara vomits pretty rarely - maybe once every two months, if she has a hairball or eats too fast - and she does hiccup once or twice a few days a week (the vets have seen videos of this and have proclaimed it normal, just one of her little idiosyncracies). This Tuesday, she freaked me out by throwing up four times in rapid succession, but she managed to hork up a giant hairball (bigger than any before) and seemed 100% afterwards, so I wasn’t too concerned. Then yesterday (Friday) she regurgitated her food - again, she’d been running around right after eating, not too unusual, but alarm bells are starting to ring.

She just threw up again today (and again, it’s regurgitated whole kibble pieces), so I’m officially worried and calling around to see who can take a look at her.

I will say that her behavior is mostly normal (a little extra-agitated, with some longer-lasting zoomies than usual, but she’s also a Very Energetic Cat who gets worked up when it rains, and she just got some new toys to play with, so it’s hard to say). Immediately after regurgitating the food, she came running up to me trilling and ready to play. Clear eyes, pink gums, hanging out in all her usual haunts, all that good stuff. Eating normally, including her lickable treat, and her diet hasn’t changed in over a year, so it’s not an adjustment to a new brand or anything. Drinking normally as well, from bowls cleaned daily. Litter box? Totally normal in number, type, and consistency. She’s an otherwise healthy almost-three-year-old cat who’s up to date on her shots and yearly checkups.

All of that makes me think we’re more on the “food allergy/sensitivity” side of the spectrum, well away from something more urgent like “bowel obstruction”. I am mostly Concerned with a capital “C” because she loooooves chewing on things. All strings, feathers, etc. are locked away from her because she will swallow them. I wonder if she may have something that’s not an urgent issue that’s just been sitting in her gut for long enough that it’s occasionally a problem. (The other Concerned aspect is, of course, that I had the very bad luck in 2020 of adopting a terminally ill 7-month-old kitten and now I am paranoid about every bad turn Clara has in case it’s a repeat of her brother’s scenario.)

I think she should be fine until tomorrow morning - honestly, she’s probably fine until Monday, but I don’t want to take chances. I’ve even got a gabapentin left over from her last vet appointment, so she should be nice and calm and much less stressed than a vet appointment would usually cause her to be. But any advice or anecdotes are greatly appreciated!

#eponymous cat tag #pet illness tw #cats #veterinarian

[sturchling]

The class is only pretending to believe Lila to knock Marinette down a peg. But it backfires when Marinette decides to focus on her designs and becomes more famous.

Of course the class knew that Lila was a liar. They weren’t idiots. Lila’s stories were completely absurd and no one with any sense would believe her. But they also thought this would be a good opportunity to humble Marinette a little bit. Marinette was already had a successful fashion commission website and even had a few big name clients. It bothered the class. Marinette had all these connections, while they had none and she never offered to help them with those connections. So, they planned to use Lila to teach Marinette a lesson and knock her down a peg. 

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

The class started fawning over Lila, acting like they were hanging off her every word. Lila had no idea that they already knew, so she just kept lying, thinking that she had the class eating out of the palm of her hand. Marinette tried to warn them, trying to tell them that Lila was a liar. But the class just kept pretending to believe Lila. When Lila started to accuse Marinette of bullying her, the class played along and started to ‘defend Lila’. They thought that Marinette would eventually start to try and get back in their good graces anyway she could. Including using her connections to help launch their different career dreams. But that never happened.

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

Marinette was hurt by how quickly the class turned on her. She was just trying to help them and warn them about Lila’s lies. But if they weren’t going to listen, then she is going to move on. The class had started being incredibly rude to her, so why should she keep pushing herself so hard in the class rep position or doing things for them. For the first time in her life, Marinette decided to focus on her needs and wants. Marinette had been wanting to throw herself into her designs, and focus on expanding her fashion business. But she hadn’t because she wanted to focus on helping the class. Now, she was going to focus on her business. 

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

The class had noticed that Marinette had gotten quiet lately. She had stopped trying to convince them of Lila’s lies and had actually stopped talking to them all together. She had also stopped doing the class rep work, instead deciding to resign. The class wasn’t sure why she resigned, but following their plan, they decided to elect Lila as the new class rep. They thought that may shock Marinette into coming back and starting to act normal. But she didn’t seem to care at all. She never stayed after school or came to any events. She was always at home during her free time, working on her fashions, not that the class knew the reason. 

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

At first Marinette had felt bad about focusing on her fashions, but she knew it was the right thing to do for her. Her business and client list had grown substantially in the last few weeks. She had gotten some new celebrity clients and some major projects. Then her biggest commission yet came in. Clara Nightingale had requested for her to make an evening gown for her to wear to an awards show in a few months. Marinette’s designs would be seen by everyone who watches the award show. It was a major deal. Marinette spent every waking moment on the design and was very proud when she sent Clara the final product.

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

The class was not happy. Sure this plan had been their idea, but now that Marinette had withdrawn, all of the class events had not been working out right. Lila wasn’t good as class rep and everything was falling apart. But the class took comfort in the thought that at least they were sure that this would humble Marinette. But then they were watching the newest awards show that night and watched several celebrities walk the red carpet. Clara Nightingale makes her way down the red carpet in a beautiful dress. It complimented her figure and the color scheme was gorgeous. When asked who she was wearing, the name she said shocked the class. “This dress was made by one of the best. It is Marinette that has you all impressed.” The class was in shock. Since when had Marinette gotten so big in the fashion industry? The class looked up Marinette’s design name, MDC. They saw that Marinette had become a major player in the fashion industry. They just realized in shock that they hadn’t been knocking Marinette down a peg. They had been helping to get Marinette lift herself up.

#ml #ml fic #ml fanfic #ml salt #ml salt fic #ml salt fanfic #ml class salt #class salt #lila rossi #lila salt fic #lila salt #MDC #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fic #miraculous fanfic #miraculous salt fic #miraculous salt #miraculous salt fanfic #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir

[haztory]

OK BUT THAT'S ME BEING AN IDIOT HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA drabble/sfw JAHAHHAHAHAHAH DAMN

““You better catch that fucking bouquet, babe. Our relationship is on the line!” + “You wanna go toe to toe with me, pretty boy?” with Bokuto for the loveliest Clara! from my writing event that is now closed!

warnings: adult langauge and that’s it!

a/n: i answered her previous ask for the quotes so i’m just posting the drabble here! thank you for your patience my love!!! i hope you like it <33333

bokuto koutarou x f!reader; (fluff, all the fluff and wedding shenanigans)

Bokuto loves weddings. They’re truly his weak spot. Ask him to attend and he’s there an hour early, regardless of whether you’re his best friend or his cousin twice removed. The man lives for a wedding.

He loves the sentimentality of the ceremony that never fails to make him teary-eyed and oppositely, he loves the liveliness of the reception, half tempted every time to push the DJ aside and take over the mixing of music with a drink in his hand and a sloppy yell. He’s a vivacious mess of mixed moods and energy, but truthfully, he’s the best date anyone could ever ask for.

The best attendee too, considering almost everyone wants him to be a groomsman. He usually can never say no, but this time, it wasn’t even a question; Especially not for Hinata.

But above all, he loves that every wedding he attends grants him ample opportunity to enter into the sanctity of his fantasies and imagine his own.

“Did ya see him up there?!” Atsumu barks with a hard laugh, one hand clutching his whiskey and another his suit-clad chest, “He was cryin’ more than the groom!”

Met with the boastful laughs of his fellow team members, all gathered in a scattered circle by the bar, Bokuto jokingly pushes the blond on his left with a loud scoff and a faux-defense tone.

“I held it in!”

 “I heard you sniffling when Sho finally entered the venue,” Sakusa says, pointing a finger at Bokuto with the same hand that held his own alcoholic drink, “Don’t lie.”

 The group erupts into even more scattered laughter, that of which Bokuto finally joins in. His suit jacket has long since been abandoned, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as he holds his hands up in surrender, “What can I say? I love weddings!”

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, Meian joyfully says from beside him, “At least we’ll know now how you’ll be at your own.” His eyes waggle in accompaniment and Bokuto feels his cheeks start to ache from the intensity of his smile. 

“We’ll bring extra tissues!”

Flustered to the core, Bokuto dips his head in abnormal shyness— the likes of which have the entirety of his friend group leaning forward in curiosity, their own interested smiles painted on their faces.

Fascinating as it may be to see the loud and boisterous wing spiker reduced to flushed cheeks at the mention of marriage, it doesn’t take much to figure out why; Even if they didn’t know him as well as they did, it was more than clear as to the reason when Bokuto’s own gaze tries to covertly dart to the side. That of which they all notice and blatantly follow. 

Stood beside the table of the bride, there you stood in all of your sheer elegance laughing with a number of the bridesmaids, blissfully unaware of a loving gaze that was drawn much too heavily to your turned figure. Focused on the way your dress shimmers in the dim lighting and the way you speak amongst the other guests, Bokuto feels locked in the trace of your magnanimous presence. Shyness dissipating quickly and replaced with the overwhelming flutter in his stomach.

And, not for the first time this night, he wonders briefly what it would be like if it were you walking down the aisle; If instead of the sheer, shimmery dress that adorned you beautifully, you were wearing a white one.

As he watched with exuberant joy as one of his closest friends married the one he loved, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if this were his wedding. If it were you walking down the aisle to the ethereal orchestra with your closest friends and family in attendance, all watching with eager rapture at your astounding beauty as he surely would be. But none of them, not a single one of them could ever compare to the intensity of his own stupefied gaze.

He’s imagined the scenario too often, felt tears prick the corner of his eyes every time, and he grows more excited each time he’s fantasized. But nothing gives him more butterflies than the thought of interlocking his hand with yours, placing his ring of eternal promise on your third finger, and avidly vow forever with you.

It’s not like he needs a wedding to promise that; He sees his future every time he looks at you—even if you have your back turned to him and are chatting away unsuspectingly with the fellow attendees.

 But a wedding would be nice, he thinks.

“That’s if he can get married,” Atsumu mutters into his glass cup and takes a long drink of his whiskey.

Bokuto, interrupted from his loving stare at the back of your head, snaps his own head to the blond with the speed to break necks. Eyebrows furrowed, fantasy ruined, and full offense coating his syllables, he exclaims, “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, Atsumu leans one elbow on the surface of the bar counter and swirls his drink around, “Ya keep sayin’ yer gonna do it, but how long’s it been? Seven, eight months? If you haven’t done it yet, yer not ever gonna.”

A quick flash of sternness settles into the eyes of their captain, his arm still wrapped around the shoulders of the slowly deflating wing spiker. “He’ll do it when he’s ready, Atsumu. There’s no need to rush something like that.”

Rolling his eyes, Sakusa chimes in from across the three men. Pointing his stare at Koutarou, who resembles a kicked puppy at this point, he sighs. Not one to expel too much effort in emotional comfort, he decides this one is worthy of some kind of attempt. Albeit a minimal one. 

 “Don’t listen to this idiot, Koutarou.”

“‘m jus’ sayin’. She won’t wait for long, man,” Atsumu shrugs his shoulders again, eyes flitting to his right. Out of the corner, Koutarou deflates even more— shoulders slumped and the corners of his mouth downturned noticeably. He huffs out a quiet laugh through his nose.

Step one, complete.

“Since when were you such an expert in what women want?” Sakusa snorts.

“I have experience, thank you very much!” 

“That’s hard to believe.”

Sticking his tongue out at Sakusa, he pointedly ignores the insult to his knowledge of the feminine desires and turns his attention to the subject matter at hand.

Atsumu knows what women, having dated quite a few in his years. More specifically, he knew what you want, considering one drunk evening you had wondered aloud— quite heartachingly in your alcoholic daze, he might add— if the boisterous wing spiker even wanted to marry you. Bokuto, in your words verbatim—

“He just always gets fidgety when I bring it up and I jus’ dunno if he even likes me anymore cause yesterday, he said that my dinner was just ‘okay’ when he always says that he really loves it. Do you know how that made me feel? How could he even want to marry me when I make just ‘okay’ food? Do you know how much he eats? How can he survive!”

And as the ever so loyal friend that Atsumu considers himself to be, who is never one to ever meddle in the business of others, decided it was only right of him to solve this slight problem himself.

By taunting Bokuto, of course. 

If only to make him take matters into his own hands and finally do what everyone has been waiting for. What he knew the poor man has been dying to do forever, considering he never shuts up about you.

And also, to finally have you stop drunk texting him, no matter how endearing he may find them to be.

“So,” Atsumu sings once more, ignoring the look of exasperation on Meian’s face and instead, zoning in on the face of despair before him, “what are ya waiting for?”

In his stupefied stare at the blond beside him, Bokuto finds his gaze once more being drawn back to your turned figure that stands right in his line of sight. Wearing that pretty dress that you face timed him to get his opinion on, smelling of sweet lavender and jasmine— his favorite perfume of yours— and the lip gloss that you begged him not to mess up. He didn’t listen, and truthfully, you hardly minded all that much.

What is he waiting for? He knows what he wants, so why hasn’t he done it yet?

What if you’re growing tired of how long he’s been waiting? What if you’re unhappy that your relationship hasn’t progressed to the next stage? Oh god, what if--

His mouth opens then closes, then opens once again, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “I… I don’t know.”

“Do ya want to marry her?”

Bokuto nods eagerly, as though through the action alone he could dispel of any lingering doubt that ever had the audacity to pervade his thoughts, “Of course! I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

“Ya think she’s gonna say ‘no’?”

Looking at his two other teammates, who each have their own curiosities piqued at the line of questioning, he shakes his head with finality.

“No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Then ya just need a push!” Placing his drink on the counter, Atsumu slaps his hand on the man’s shoulder, “How about this: If yer girl catches the bouquet, ya rip the band-aid and ya ask her—”

Stepping in once more, Meian chimes, “Don’t push him to do something he’s not ready for—”

“I ain’t pushin’! He’s got the ring already, right?”

“You do?” All eyes fall onto Bokuto, who stares with widened innocent stare at each of them. He quickly shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out his fist to reveal a velvet box in his hand. 

“I’ve been carrying it with me every day for the past six months. I just didn’t know if I should do it.”

Three pairs of eyes stare blankly at the man before them. Sharing a quick look at one another, the message is translated seamlessly between each of them and voiced eloquently by Meian himself. Ever the efficient captain.

“Holy shit.”

“My friend,” Atsumu laughs, squeezing his hand on the broad shoulder of his closest friend. His smile, innocent enough to the passing gaze, holds that twinge of mischief that Bokuto has come to know rather intimately; A taunting smile that has been directed his way one too many times that usually never ends well.

“I dare ya to propose to yer girl if she catches that bouquet. If yer really a man, that is.”

Bokuto’s eye twitches, his features narrowed at the utterance of the dare, and that’s how Atsumu knows he’s got him in the bag. It has his own smile widening even further, as Bokuto’s face scrunches in suspicion, knowing full well that he could never resist a dare.

With the single word alone, long gone is the hesitancy and doubt that plagued the man just a moment before, and instead stands a man tall in his ushering of competition. A man who thrives off the challenge, especially wherever his teammate presented one. It’s almost startling how quickly he sheds his mopey behavior and embraces his natural presence, which overwhelms and overpowers everyone around them. 

Step two, done.

“And if she doesn’t?” Bokuto asks, smugness filtering his words as he entertains the notion— silently accepts the provocation laid before him and drastically alters himself in order to successfully combat it. 

In order to win.

Spotting the glint of devilry that grows in strength in the narrowing of Bokuto’s eyes, Atsumu smirks and meets it with one of his own. He’s got him, hook, line, and sinker.

“Ya break up.”

Bokuto reels backward physically, shaken from the competitive trance and staring at the man in grotesque shock. The kind that almost borders anger and offense. Huffing a breath through his nose, he takes a step forward, away from the present comfort of Meian and almost in accusation.

“Are you trying to ruin my life, blondie? You trying to go toe to toe with me, pretty boy?”

Atsumu laughs, holding his hands up in defense, “I’m tryna get ya married, big guy!” Shoving his hands into his pockets, hardly phased by the proximity in which the large man has entrenched onto his space, he shrugs once more, “That is… if yer man enough to take it.”

“Deal,” Bokuto says without hesitation, both incredibly and not at all to the surprise of the other two men who have been silently watching from the sidelines. Like a sudden reset, the tension that resided stiffly in the shoulders of Bokuto rescinds, and replaced is the confident, joyous man. 

A man who looks as though he’s won easy money and then some. 

Smiling widely, Bokuto turns in his place and begins a bold strut away from his friends. In the direction of his beloved, “Excuuuse me, gentlemen. I’m going to go teach my lady how to catch a bouquet.”

Meian and Kiyoomi step to the side, allowing enough space for Bokuto to walk through with the hint of laughter in their small smiles. 

Spinning on his heel and pointing his thumb at his chest, Bokuto exclaims proudly, “This time tomorrow, I will be a married man!”

“One wedding at a time, Kou.” Meian laughs at the retreating man, who is beaming from head to toe.

“Better train ‘er good, big guy! Or else I might be the next one to propose to her!” Atsumu calls out as Bokuto gets closer and closer towards your turned figure.

“I’ll kill you!” He calls back, hearing the echoing laughter diminish as he finally steps beside you.

Turning from the conversation with one of the bridesmaids to the new presence, you shine beautifully upon recognizing who it is, and Bokuto feels his resolve grow almost stronger.

“Hi baby,” You coo, instinctually placing your hand into his and leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek when he quickly presents it to you, “Did you have fun with the boys?”

Wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, he places his own kiss on your cheek, humming against the surface of the skin yet making no move to part from you. “Mhmm. Just missed you.”

You laugh, rubbing your hand on his arm, “You were only gone for a couple minutes, Kou.”

Trailing his lips downward, he nuzzles himself into your neck, inhaling deeply. Lavender and jasmine. His favorite scent.

The one he wants to smell for the rest of his life.

“Ten minutes is too long.”

If possible, he manages to pull you even tighter against him. Two strong arms wrapping around you, pulling your chest into his and squeezing you tightly. Lovingly and entirely too comforting. Home.

You return the embrace eagerly, holding him to you equally as tight, “You’re right. It was starting to get boring without you.”

His hand, warm and large against the small of your back, rubs the surface up and down before he pulls back slightly, if only to look at your face in its entirety and the lip gloss you have unfortunately reapplied.

“You’re gonna do the bouquet toss, right?”

You raise an eyebrow, “I usually do. Why?”

He glances to the side, avoiding your inquiring stare. He raises a hand from your waist, rubbing the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile, “Maybe we should go outside, and I can throw a couple of rocks at you. Just to practice your catching skills.”

“Kou— “

“Can’t have anyone disrespecting you on the floor, can we? We gotta let everyone know you’re a winner! Cause you’re my girl, and whoever disrespects you, disrespects me! You know? So, you better catch that fucking bouquet. I mean, our relationship is on the line, here!”

“Koutarou—” From the tone in which you say his name, he knows he’s not making any sense. You’re confused, incredibly so, and he can’t blame you. Truthfully, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, only that he has a goal, and he has to make you see it without revealing himself entirely.

 “I mean, only if you want to. It just… means a lot to me, and I want you to say yes, because I love you. And if you win, I win in a lot of ways. And I want to win with you, for the rest of our lives.”

Realizing almost entirely too late that he was talking with duplicity that you have most certainly caught on towards, he decides there is a good place to stop talking entirely. Oh god, he’s such an idiot. What was he thinking? He can never hide anything from you!

If you couldn’t tell from the way he was talking in metaphors, you could most definitely see it from the way in which sweat beads at the top of his forehead.

Your eyes flicker from each of his, your warm palms cupping the sides of his face as you watch him with concern.

“Baby,” You breathe out, voice steady and calm as you watch his resolve slowly crack under your watchful stare, “Did you want to talk to me about something?”

He tried desperately to remind himself that he has a mission to accomplish, that there was a dare that Atsumu had challenged him to that he must complete—but it’s you. You’re the trump card, the weakness in his defense, his priority above all else. He could never hide anything from you because you would catch him in a quick minute. And truthfully, he doesn’t want to hide anything from you.

It was easy to hide the ring under the guise of waiting for the perfect time, a mental barrier that he could excuse as a good cause behind his hesitancy, but now that he’s accepted a dare that is forcing him to put his desires to immediate use, he can hardly wait for the bouquet toss to arrive.

He’s got to do it now. The time is right, it will never be more perfect. You look beautiful, you’re held tightly in his arms, and he’s never been more convinced of the fact that he loves you. Why has he even waited this long?

He has to do it—Atsumu be damned.

“Marry me.” 

**

Extra:

“You really think she’s going to catch it?” Meian asks Atsumu, as they both watch from afar the way Bokuto wraps himself around your body, nuzzling unabashedly into you.

Atsumu scoffs, “Hell no. Girl can’t catch fer shit.”

Furrowing his brows, Meian stares at the blond with intense confusion, “Then why did you—”

“Just had to plant the idea in his head. He’ll do it soon, jus’ give it a minute.”

The two watch you both silently, noticing the way in which Bokuto pulls away from you and starts to speak rapidly. Neither of them can hear what he’s saying, but they can see his lips moving. More importantly, can see the way in which you stare in perplexion.

Then finally, his lips stop moving and your hands cup his face. The setter and captain feel their breaths hitch and they both lean forward if only to see if they can read the wing spiker’s lips from where they stand.

They can. And from the way you respond with a laugh and an eager kiss, they know it worked.

Looking to Meian, Atsumu raises his brow with a smile, “Told ya!”

end note: to everyone who sent a request, it is on it’s way! i just don’t know the definition of a drabble and instead make 3k long fics, so that’s fun. 

#bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto drabble #bokuto fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #hq fluff #hq drabble #hq fic #haikyuu fic #my writing #my fic #writing event

[ravennm84]

Marinette Family Court Reveal

After the overwhelming resonse I received from Marinette Family Court Circus, how could I not write a sequel? This story focuses more on what was going on with the class and what they’re seeing on the news. There will be some salt coming, so have a glass of water on hand. Anyways, Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

The class was in a state of shock. In the span of 24 hours, there was so much joy and tragedy. Gathered at Alya’s apartment, they watched TVi news as Hawkmoth and Mayura were unmasked as Gabriel Agreste and his assistant, Nathalie. The class was in an uproar for a while, wondering if Adrien had been involved.

Lila shed tears, real ones, at the loss of her modeling job and the chance to keep Adrien as a trophy boyfriend. Now, he was useless to her. Anything to do with him would be toxic to her reputation, her only chance was to use her tears and claim that she’d had no idea that he was involved in such things. That he must have been trying to use her to get close to her mother to have international backing. Luckily, her classmates were such sheep that no one questioned what she said. They just comforted her, even ignoring the announcement of Adrien being exonerated of any charges, beyond a reasonable doubt, a few hours later.

The following day in class, Mme. Bustier came in and announced that not only had Adrien been pulled out of school for his own safety, but Marinette would not be attending for a while. “I’m afraid that she was in a terrible accident and has been put in the hospital.”

“How bad?” Alya asked, standing from her chair.

“She’s alive, but I’m afraid that her parents and grandmother were killed in a fatal car accident.”

From there, gossip flew all around the room. How bad had it been? How hurt was Marinette? Do you think the accident was Marinette’s fault?

What?

They weren’t sure who asked that question, but it brought up other things. How she’d been acting strange the past few months. The way she’d distanced herself from everyone in class. How she’d been bullying Lila when she thought no one was looking. Always calling Lila a liar even though she had no proof. It was clear to everyone that she was a troubled girl, but the idea that she’d caused the accident and killed her parents and grandmother? That didn’t seem like the girl they knew.

Still, they weren’t sure. So, no one really reached out to her in the hospital. No one called or went to visit to see if she was alright. Except Lila, she put the fear of her bully aside and went to check on her, only to call Alya crying an hour later.

“I don’t understand why she hates me so much.” Lila sobbed on Alya’s couch and the spectacled girl rubbed her friend’s back. “All I did was tell her that I was worried about her, but she yelled at me and told me to get out of the room. But I can’t blame her. I think she’s just scared.”

“Of course she’s scared, she just lost her family-”

“No, she killed her family!” Lila stressed, looking freaked out. “She admitted it to me, like she didn’t think anyone would believe me! She said she distracted her father while he was driving and caused the crash since they were starting to get wise to how she really is, and that her grandmother was just ‘collateral damage’. I didn’t think anyone could be so cruel!”

Alya was in shock. She hadn’t thought that Marinette, someone she used to think of as a friend, would ever do something like that. Especially to her own family. But… Lila had never lied to her, why would she start now? “Do the police know about this?”

Lila shook her head. “I’m not sure. But I do know that she’s talking to a lawyer, she’s probably going to get her inheritance and disappear before anyone figures out what she’s done.”

“Don’t worry, girl. I won’t let her get away with this.”

“What are you going to do?” Lila asked, her voice trembling.

“Whatever I need to do to get justice for Tom and Sabine.”

~oOo~

To say that the reaction Alya got from the Paris Police Department when told them that she had a source that Marinette had killed her family in order to collect her inheritance and disappear… it hadn’t been well received. Officer Roger came to the interrogation room personally, seeing as how she was in his daughter’s class, as Alya sat with her extremely angry parents.

“Do you want to explain why you just tried to file a false police report?” Officer Roger asked her.

“It’s not false! I have a source.”

“And who might that be?”

She hesitated at that, Lila had begged her to keep her name out of it. “I’m not really comfortable saying.” 

“Then how exactly did this source of yours, gain this information?”

Thinking it over for a moment, she decided that was okay. “It was someone that visited Marinette, she admitted to my source that she purposefully distracted her father while he was driving and caused the crash.” When Officer Roger looked even angrier, she knew that must have been right and he didn’t want to admit that he’d been wrong.

At least…

“Mlle. Cesaire, as this has been made public knowledge, allow me to tell you exactly how wrong your source is. Firstly, Tom Dupain was not driving the car, Gina Dupain was driving. As for Marinette causing the accident, that’s also untrue. Street cameras confirm that four university students ran a red light and struck their car. The driver of the other car even confessed to having been drinking and causing the accident.”

Alya was in shock. Tom hadn’t been driving and Marinette hadn’t caused the accident… that would mean…

“Hate to break it to you Mlle. Cesaire, but whoever your source is has lied to you and caused you to be charged with filing a false police report.”

All the way home, Alya’s parents were scolding her for even thinking that Marinette could do such a thing. “She has always been such a good friend to you, and don’t think we don’t know about all the times you had Marinette watch Ella and Etta while you went off on dates with Nino. I bet you never even offered to pay her for babysitting the girls, did you?” Her father snapped as he parked the car outside their apartment building.

“And what about all the dresses and handmade gifts she gave you, some for no reason at all. Did you ever even thank her for those? And still, you accuse her of killing her entire family and almost getting herself killed for money? Why would you ever believe that?”

Seeing no reason to keep it to herself anymore, she told them. She told them how Marinette seemed to change when her new friend, Lila, came to school. How she had been calling her a liar just because she was jealous about the glamorous life she lived, the celebrities she knew, and her crush on Adrien. How she kept on accusing Lila of lying and faking injuries, even to the point of hurting her when Marinette threw a napkin at her and strained her sprained wrist. And then, when Marinette had been expelled, how she had accused Lila of being behind the whole thing.

When she was finished explaining, she thought for sure that she’d convinced her parents. Then she saw the looks on their faces.

“Alya, at any point, did you ever look up any of Lila’s claims?” Her mother asked in a slow, even voice.

“Now you sound like Marinette!”

“You do not talk to your mother like that!” Her father snapped before taking a deep breath to steady himself. Even without Hawkmoth around, it was difficult for people to express themselves as they used to. “Alya, I want you to take out your phone and look up any articles that have to do with Jagged Stone and Lila Rossi.”

Realizing how upset her parents were, she did what her father told her, knowing that she would find the proof in a couple minutes and they would see that Marinette…

Her phone read 1 result found: the Ladyblog.

Confused, she looked up any connection between Lila and Bruce Wayne. She said that she was practically a member of the family and that she and Damien Wayne were…

1 result found: the Ladyblog

Her hands were beginning to shake as she did her search for Lila and Tony Stark, that had to be true! She had talked about meeting him over video chat in class and how they’d talked about…

1 result found: the Ladyblog

Search after search, it was all the same. Lila and Clara Nightingale, Lila and Prince Ali, Lila and XY, Lila and the Avengers, Lila and Ladybug: 1 result found: the Ladyblog.

“I-I don’t understand?”

“Did you, at any time, check your sources before posting them?” Her mother asked, but Alya didn’t answer. She’d thought that Lila’s word had been enough, but… “This Lila girl has been lying to you, and apparently she’s been bullying someone who you used to think was a real friend. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

And she really was. She’d turned on Marinette, accusing her of being a jealous bully that had killed her own family, all on the word of a liar. So when her parents grounded her and told her that she was to shut down the Ladyblog, she didn’t argue. The blog was so full of lies that she would never be able to use it as a credible source for work experience in the future, if she even had a future in journalism anymore.

~oOo~

The next day at school, Alya could barely lift her eyes to meet anyone around her. Her mother said that she should be ashamed, and she was. She was ashamed, mortified, depressed, and all together hating herself after spending the entire night thinking of all the cruel and terrible things she had said to and about her former friend. She wasn’t going to delude herself thinking that she and Marinette could ever be friends again, she didn’t deserve her after throwing her aside for a bunch of fake stories and glittery lies.

But there was still one thing she could do. It wouldn’t make things right but it would probably be something Marinette would have done if she could have. So Alya got to class early and connected her laptop to the overhead projector. When everyone, barring Adrien and Marinette got to class. She got down to business.

“Everyone, I’ve got something very important to tell you, it has to do with Marinette.” She could already hear the murmurs around the classroom, Lila must have messaged them the lies while she’d been at the police station. “I want to start by saying that we have been misinformed. After speaking with the police and doing a ton of research, I can say with close to 100% certainty that Marinette never bullied Lila and that Lila has been lying to us since she got here.”

Before Lila could say anything, Alya brought up her first powerpoint slide. “I did a search last night on all the connections that Lila’s told us about with Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark, Prince Ali, and many others; and they all came up the same thing” The slide showed a screen shots of her searches, showing the only result being the Ladyblog. 

“Lila also told me the other day, how she went to visit Marinette and she confessed that she distracted her father while he was driving to cause the accident and kill her family so she could collect her inheritance.” Alya switched slides to the news article on the accident. “Yet the police report, traffic cameras, and witnesses all claim that to be false. Marinette’s grandmother was driving. The other driver admitted to running the light and causing the accident. And seeing as Marinette has never hid her dislike of Lila, it’s highly doubtful that she would even let Lila into her hospital room, let alone tell her something like that.”

The class had been staring at the slides in a state of shock until Alya finished speaking. Then all of them were whipping out their phones to do their own searches. Lila looked to be in a state of panic, unsure if she could bring anyone back to her side after showing all this evidence and everyone suddenly looking things up themselves.

“Oh, and Lila,” Alya said in a slightly sweet voice that made the italian glare. “So you know, my parents grounded me when the police charged me for filing a false police report after what you told me. They also decided to call the embassy to talk to your mother directly. I hope you at least get into as much trouble as you tried to do to Marinette.”

The girl didn’t want to stick around to find out, she was about to run out of the class but Mme. Bustier entered a second later and told everyone to take their seats. Lila tried to get herself excused multiple times, but the teacher just said “I understand that you must be upset by everything that has happened, but please know that you don’t have to leave the room to cry. This is a safe place again, and we are here for you.”

Before Lila’s 4th attempt to be excused, M. Damocles’ assistant knocked on the door and said that Lila was required in the office. The girl shot Alya an if-I-could-kill-you-now-I-would look before gathering her things and stomping out of the classroom. Alya hoped that she would never see the girl again. 

Then just before lunch, Markov came on and alerted everyone that the news was talking about Marinette. Mme. Bustier turned the projector back on and plugged Markov in. Sure enough, there was Marinette, looking much worse for wear. She was in a wheelchair with her right leg and arm in casts. They could see cuts healing on her exposed skin and she was much more pale than the last time they saw her. But what really caught the class’ attention, was what the bar read at the bottom of the screen. “Custody battle between Stark, Wayne, and Stone”.

The camera switched from Marinette to Jagged Stone. “Tom and Sabine were like family to me, some of the most rock’n’roll folks I’ve ever met. When I got the call saying that they were gone and Marinette had no one else, all I could think about was being there for the rockin’ little lady. She is the kindest, smartest, and most talented girl I’ve ever met. Whatever it takes, I’m going to do what I can to help her.”

Then the camera went to Tony Stark. “Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng were the kind of people others should strive to be; they stood up for what was right and let you know if you were wrong. I was on the receiving end of their lectures more than once, and they’re probably one of the reasons why I put on the suit over and over again. They helped make me a better man… and now they’re gone. I can never repay them for how they helped me, the least I can do is try to give their daughter a safe environment to heal.”

Finally, the camera came to Bruce Wayne and his sons. “I know the pain of losing one's parents when you’re young, it’s not something I would wish on anyone. But I had a support system when I was young, one of those people was Gina Dupain, a wonderful woman that forced me to see that there was still good in the world. She passed that goodness and strength to Tom Dupain and was lucky enough to find a good woman like Sabine. The fact that they are gone from the world… all I could think when I heard of their passing was how dark the world would become without the three of them. But there is also so much goodness in their daughter, Marinette. If I can have the opportunity; I just hope that I can do for Marinette, what Gina did for me.”

When the camera switched again, it came to Nadja Chamack, who looked a little teary eyed. “This story has been admittedly difficult for me to remain objective, as I know… knew the family personally. I do agree with Jagged Stone, Tony Stark, and Bruce Wayne in saying that Tom, Sabine, and Gina were wonderful people and it is a great loss that they are no longer with us. TVi news will continue to follow this story as it develops. Back to you, Alec.”

Mme. Bustier’s class watched the news in total shock. They’d had no idea that Marinette knew Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne, but how could they have forgotten that she knew Jagged Stone and Nadja Chamack. Hell, Alya had even watched Manon with her more than once. 

All the things Lila had promised them, Marinette probably could have done and more. She could have introduced Kitty Section and Nino to Jagged Stone and given them an in to the music industry. Computer programming and robotics for Max, there was no one better known in the industry than Tony Stark. Business and charities, an introduction to Bruce Wayne could have done wonders for Chloe, Sabrina, and Mylene. If Alya had even asked while they were still friends, Marinette may have asked Nadja if they were offering any internships at TVi for her. And even if her former friend didn’t have any obvious contacts in sports for Kim, or art for Alix and Nathaniel; with the way her name was getting out there with her fashion designs, she’d have probably made connections within the next few years.

A look around the room told Alya that the class was thinking the same thing. If they had just listened to their friend, instead of calling her jealous. If they had looked into a single thing Lila said instead of blindly following her. If they had even just gone to visit Marinette in the hospital rather than leave her alone during the hardest time of her life… No, they had no right to ask anything of her and all of them knew it.

Later that day, just before school let out for the day, Markov alerted everyone that Marinette was leaving the courthouse and the little robot was reconnected to the projector. What they saw was Marinette giving a small smile, her lawyer looking relieved, and the three men smiling fondly at the teenage girl. When the reporters started firing questions at them they were silenced when Marinette raised her good arm and motioned for everyone to calm down before pointing to Nadja.

“Has the judge come to a decision on the subject of custody?” Nadja asked, pointing her microphone at Marinette. Only to be answered by her lawyer, the bar listed his name as M. Contere.

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng and I have presented a proposal to the judge, it has yet to be finalized but I will say that it holds potential.”

Marinette pointed to another reporter, who had been politely raising his hand. “Mssrs. Stone, Stark, and Wayne seem to be in high spirits, does this indicate that the final decision will allow for all parties to have interactions with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng?”

M. Contere kept a straight, professional face, but everyone could see the happy crinkle at the corner of his eyes. “Although I cannot, at this time, comment on the specifics of the proposal, I will say that it is in the best interests of my client.”

Marinette chose a young girl who looked a bit overwhelmed but smiled gratefully. “This question is directed to Mssrs. Stone, Stark, and Wayne. What kind of accommodations are you planning on making if receiving custody?”

The three men shared a look before smiling at the young reporter. 

“Anything Marinette will need to heal and make a future for herself,” Bruce Wayne began.

“And probably a bunch of things she’ll say she doesn’t need, but will end up giving her anyway, since she deserves everything.” Tony Stark smiled down at her, earning a you-better-not look from Marinette, and caused a few reporters to chuckle.

“All of us here see this rockin’ little lady as family, these custody hearings will make it official. I can say with great certainty that, no matter what the judge decides, myself and these two men will do everything in our power to help her in any way we can.” Jagged said, as he placed a gentle hand on top of Marinette’s head.

M. Contere pointed at a different reporter this time, and was visibly surprised by the question. “There has been a rumor going around that Marinette purposefully caused the accident to collect her inheritance, any comment?”

The three powerful men that were standing behind Marinette became visibly upset and Marinette began to cry. Before Jagged Stone, Tony Stark, or Bruce Wayne could advance on the reporter to demand where he had heard such a claim, their lead lawyers stepped forward. The intimidating force that the three of them exuded was enough that all of the reporters took a few steps back.

“That question is a blatant falsehood that was founded by rumor, not facts,” stated the Stone lawyer in a cold voice as he stared down the reporter who asked the question.

The Wayne lawyer continued, speaking clearly so no one would mishear or misquote what was said. “As stated in the police report and other sources, the accident was caused when a group of university students failed to yield at a red light and struck the Dupain-Chengs’ vehicle. The driver has already pleaded guilty to charges of DUI, three counts of vehicular manslaughter, and vehicular assault.” 

The camera panned over to Tony Stark’s lawyer, as he finished speaking quietly to the three men before turning back to the camera. “These comments have also come to the attention of the Paris Police Department, as someone attempted to file a false police report on the matter. After a brief discussion with Mssrs. Stone, Wayne, and Stark, they have agreed to work together, along with the PPD, to find the source of these rumors and see the individual brought up on charges of slander, harassment, and defamation of character; among other charges.”

“No more questions,” M. Contere said as he and the other lawyers escorted their clients away from the courthouse. The reporters tried to ask more questions, but were met with icy looks and ‘no comment”.

Alya couldn’t help but smile at that. After school, when Officer Roger came to pick up Sabrina, she would tell him exactly who her source was. She would tell who her “source” had been and all the things she’d said about Marinette since she’d started attending school. She would show him all the recordings on her blog before it was shut down and send him video copies of Lila’s interviews as evidence. If she was lucky, Lila would also be charged for slandering Jagged Stone, Tony Stark, and Bruce Wayne; as well as Marinette.

Again, Alya knew that this wouldn’t fix her friendship with Marinette, but it was also the right thing to do. And for the first time in a long time, she was going to be on the side of good.

Taglist:

@whydoexamsexist  @geekydragonyt  @thornalchemist23

@maribat-is-lifeblood  @ironspiderstark  @miyla-lokidottir

@futursworld  @luveverything12  @dreamkitty25

@smolplantmum  @imablinkmarvelarmy  @moonlitiiminie

@chez-pezeater

#ml fic #marinette deserves better #maribat #ml au #bruce wayne #tony stark #jagged stone #marinette dupain cheng #alya salt #alya redemption #lila salt #lila gets exposed #class salt #mlbjustice

[ppangjae]

DIE FOR YOU | Jaehyun

—You won’t find no one that’s better.

SUMMARY. Jaehyun swore to never fall in love again after five unrequited crushes. But when all of his best friends get married and leave him behind, he might just break his oath. He just hopes that this time around, it’s not another unrequited love because he’s tired of throwing up flower petals.

GENRE. fluff and angst + f2l!au + hanahaki disease

note. hanahaki disease is a fictional disease. it’s an illness that occurs due to an unrequited love. the person experiencing unrequited love will throw up petals of their crush’s favourite flower. once the person experiences requited love, the disease will disappear.

WORD COUNT. 20.5k+ words (someone PLEASE stop me)

—I think I’m right for you.

Being inexperienced in falling in love would be an understatement. It wasn’t a choice, it was more of a predisposition made by fate. You’re not quite sure what you had done wrong in your past life that caused fate to curse you with such a boring love life. But as you blow out the twenty-two candles on your birthday cake, it reminds you that this is your twenty-second year of existing and yet you still don’t have someone that makes your heart flutter or skip one beat. At this point, you’re ready to give up. In fact, you’ve envisioned a future where you’d be single for the rest of your life and the only thing that’ll give you company will be your three puppies. Three cute puppies, yep, that sounds just about right. 

“Let me guess,” Jungwoo grins, “You wished for the miraculous improvement of your love life and possibly meeting the love of your life within the next two days.”

You let out a loud scoff. You’ve made the same wish for the past six years. Six years of making the same wish and it’s more than enough to give you the harsh reality that your wishes will never come true. Wishes never come true, if they do, they’re called miracles. 

“Wrong,” you smirk. “I wished for something else this year.”

“Oh?” He quirks an eyebrow. “What did you wish for this time?”

Your smirk drops. “If I tell you, my wish won’t come true.”

“Your wishes never come true, what makes this wish different?” He snickers. 

Jungwoo had a valid point. What makes this wish any different from all the wishes you’ve made? Since none of your wishes ever came true, what makes it any different that this wish will actually come true? Well, the difference this year is that the wish isn’t for you. The wish isn’t for your failing love life or for your defying fate. The wish is for your best friend Jaehyun. 

You spot Jaehyun poking his slice of cake with a fork. A warm, soft smile begins to spread your lips at the sight of your best friend. 

The closest feeling to falling in love that you’ve felt was surprisingly indirect heartbreak. You’ve never fallen in love, but you’ve watched Jaehyun fall in love five times. You’ve also watched Jaehyun’s heart break five times. Indirect heartbreak. Although you’ve never had an unrequited crush, you’ve seen Jaehyun experience it, and you can feel the pain—the heartbreak—that he goes through. 

You’ve always had a soft spot for Jaehyun. You’re the only one that knows about all his unrequited crushes. You’re the only one that knows about his disease, the sickness he feels whenever he experiences an unrequited love. You’re the only one that knows about his oath; that he swears to never fall in love again. But you think he deserves so much more. He deserves the whole entire universe, along with its galaxies and stars. 

And as his best friend, you gave up your birthday wish for him. 

You wish that the next person he falls in love with will be the one and not another unrequited love. 

“The cake is really sweet,” Jungwoo says as he reaches over to cut himself another slice. “Where did you get the cake?”

“Cha’s Cherry on Top,” you reply.

Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow. “Eunwoo made this?”

You smile while nodding your head. Jungwoo pulls out his phone and takes a picture of the cake along with the business card attached to the box.

“Eunwoo makes birthday cakes for you but not for me?” Jaehyun pouts. “So much for a best friend.”

“I guess that’s one of the many downsides of having a birthday on Valentine’s Day, Valentine boy.” Jungwoo teases. He receives a glare from Jaehyun in return.

You nod your head at Jungwoo’s phone. “You should really check out the bakery with Clara. You might be able to find the perfect wedding cake, discounted too!”

“Clara loves her discounts.” Jungwoo laughs. “At this point, anything helps.”

“It’s best to save more money for your baby,” you suggest. “She’s due in December, right?”

Jungwoo nods his head in reply. “Four months before our wedding.”

“Have you thought of names yet?” Jaehyun asks.

You and Jungwoo share a look that Jaehyun fails to notice. He’s too busy picking at his cake. Jungwoo clears his throat.

“We have but only names for a baby girl,” Jungwoo answers. “But we’ve been having trouble thinking of names for a baby boy. What do you have in mind, Jaehyun?”

You glance at your best friend. You bite your lip nervously. Jaehyun always wanted to start a family with the love of his life. But after experiencing five heartbreaks, it seems like he’s slowly changing his mind about his future.

“I’ve always wanted to name my son Yuno,” he confesses, finally scooping a forkful of cake and taking a small bite. “You should name your baby boy Yuno. I give you full permission. I’ll be his favourite uncle.”

Jungwoo’s face softens. “You’ll definitely be the favourite uncle, Jaehyun.”

The conversation ends at that. Jaehyun spends the rest of the day imagining how different his life would be if he just met the one. You spend the rest of your afternoon imagining how perfect of a father Jaehyun would be to his kids. That is, if Jaehyun decides to give love another try. You hope your birthday wish comes true. You hope Jaehyun finds the one.

Fate better get on with it.

Jaehyun experienced his first unrequited love at the sweet age of seventeen. It wasn’t the least bit pleasant. But she was so beautiful, she had a heart of gold, she was perfect. If he were to ever associate her with a colour, she’d be pink and yellow, just like the sight of pink and yellow peonies that he grew to hate because of her.

At the young age of seventeen, he learned to hate flowers. Flowers of every kind. He was diagnosed with Hanahaki Disease. The disease is only present whenever he experiences heartbreak from an unrequited love. When his feelings aren’t returned, it causes him to throw up petals of a flower. It could be any flower, but usually, it’s his unrequited lover’s favourite flower. It didn’t take him long to hate flowers no matter how beautiful they were because he never expected it to become a reminder of how far he was growing apart from the love of his life.

On the bright side, at the age of seventeen, he met you, his best friend. On the day he was rejected, he had mistakenly gone into the women’s washroom out of sheer panic and nervousness. The only thing on his mind at that moment was that he wasn’t feeling too great and he needed to throw up. You had entered the washroom a couple of minutes after, not expecting to see a guy throwing up pink and yellow peony petals in the toilet. It was a weird encounter, but that encounter soon became a secret only you and Jaehyun shared.

He’s been in love five times. He’s been heartbroken five times. But they all have hurt differently, especially his last relationship. He thought she was the one. He thought that she’d be the woman he’d spend the rest of his life with. He thought that she was his whole world. He thought she loved him the way he loved her. But she didn’t. At the same exact time, he didn’t expect to have a growing hatred for red roses.

“Are you feeling better?” He hears you ask as he coughs. He leans away from the toilet and flushes the rose petals. He presses his back against the wall and looks up at you.

“I’m tired,” he whispers. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. As you take a seat next to him, you rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m tired of this, of everything. Why am I still in love with her?”

“When you love someone so much, letting go hurts so much more.” You mumble. “One day, she won’t even cross your mind. You just need to give your heart some time to heal.”

“It’s been eleven months.” He coughs again and you can feel and hear the emptiness in his lungs. He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Who knew that loving someone could hurt this much? To the point where my body gives in? To the point where I get sick?”

“People come in and out of everyone’s lives. It’s a given. But you can’t stop someone from stepping out of your life.” You explain. “She chose to leave. She chose not to stay. But one day, someone will choose to stay. Someone will choose to love you.”

“Do you think there’s someone out there that’ll choose me?”

You look up at him. He has an uncertain smile spread across his lips. You frown and hit his arm. He lets out a loud groan.

“Of course!” You exclaim. “She’s out there! It’s not the end of the world, Jaehyun.”

He laughs. “How could you say that when you haven’t even been in love or in a relationship? Aren’t you getting impatient? I’m sure you have doubts about your love life.”

You shake your head. “I know he’s out there. I’m not impatient. I’m very patient. Fate will bring us together someday. You just have to be faithful.”

“I wish I was as patient as you.”

“What can I say? I’m an expert. I’ve been single for twenty-two years!”

You find yourself sitting on Jungwoo’s couch accompanied by Jaehyun at ten past eleven in the evening. Jungwoo’s rummaging through his mini fridge for beer and you and Jaehyun are watching a Spongebob Squarepants rerun. 

There must be a reason as to why you and Jaehyun were dragged to Jungwoo’s small apartment out of sheer will. You were in the midst of cooking your dinner when Jungwoo showed up at your door. Oh how you wish you were at home right now, enjoying a tub of ice cream after having a scrumptious steak dinner. 

Jungwoo’s not sure what to expect from this, but his heart nervously beats faster than the ticking of his clock hung up on the wall. He tries to sneak a glance at his two best friends behind the fridge door and lets out a sigh. After arguing with himself, he juggles the cold cans of beer in his arms and joins you in the living room. Right when he plops his butt onto the couch and places the cans of beer onto the coffee table, his eyes meet yours. 

“Spill it, Jungwoo.”

“Drink some beer first—”

“There must be a reason why you dragged me out of the comfort of my own home—”

“So, this isn’t a hangout?” Jaehyun asks you. You nod and the room is silent. It’s so silent that you could hear Jungwoo gulp nervously. “Spill it, Jungwoo—”

“I hate being a burden to you guys but,” he begins before sighing frustratingly. “Clara and I are having trouble finding a perfect wedding planner. Since Clara is pregnant, the last thing I want her to do is stress out over our wedding.”

“We’ll help you find a wedding planner. You could’ve just asked.” Jaehyun chuckles before the dots start connecting in his head. He glances at you and you’re looking back at him with the same expression of realization. 

“Wait. You want us to be your wedding planners—”

“Yes, please.” Jungwoo begs. “I’ll even pay you for your time and work!”

“No.” You and Jaehyun say in unison. 

Jungwoo whines. “Do you not have some sort of sympathy for me, Jaehyun?”

“Nope.” He replies, pursing his lips into a tight line. His dimples show for a brief moment. 

“Y/N?” Jungwoo looks at you with hope in his eyes. 

You smirk. “Do I look like a wedding planner to you?”

“Well—”

“Then, no.” You cut him off while grabbing your can of beer from the coffee table. You take a sip of your beer and think about Jungwoo’s situation a second time. You tilt your head after much thought. “Actually, I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Jaehyun looks at you as if you’ve gone insane. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Jungwoo’s going to pay us.” You shrug your shoulders. “All we have to do is just show up and pick and suggest what’s best for the wedding. It seems pretty simple.”

“You’re both our closest friends and we figured you knew us best. Thus, this would be a great idea.” Jungwoo convinces you. 

“He has a point.” You tell Jaehyun. “I’m in. Cheers to securing the bag.”

Jaehyun stares at you and Jungwoo as you clink beer cans. Jungwoo takes a sip of his beer and turns towards Jaehyun to give him puppy eyes. Jaehyun avoids his gaze and focuses on the TV. The characters on the show are laughing and their laughter echoes through Jaehyun’s mind, taunting him, haunting him, urging him to accept the offer. 

You watch the two with amusement and fold your arms. Jaehyun squints his eyes at Jungwoo and lets out a defeated sigh. There’s a fire that ignites in Jungwoo’s eyes. 

“When do we start?”

Cha’s Cherry on Top is everything you imagined it to be. It’s a busy bake shop filled with dedicated workers that display distinct personalities. For instance, the cashier that greets the three of you as you step in exudes nothing but a bright and cheery aura. It’s evident from her polka-dotted apron and cherry earrings. Working away behind the countertop are pastry chefs sporting pink aprons and rosy cheeks. But amidst all the hustle and bustle of the shop, Cha Eunwoo can be easily spotted with the human eye. 

In fact, he’s the first one you notice when you step into the shop. He’s frosting a freshly baked cake. You can’t help but swoon over how handsome the young pastry chef and owner is. It’s a shame that he’s off the market. 

“My strawberry shortcakes are finally here!” 

You snap out of your thoughts as Eunwoo brings you back to reality. He’s making his way towards the three of you. 

“Did you enjoy your birthday cake?” Eunwoo asks you. 

“It was delicious, thanks again.” You smile. 

“I’m glad to hear that.” He chirps. “Jungwoo! Congratulations on your engagement!”

Jungwoo sheepishly smiles, feeling all shy from the sudden attention he’s receiving. 

“The reason we dropped by was because—”

“You want me to create your wedding cake, don’t you?” Eunwoo grins. He throws his arm over your shoulder and you’re caught off guard. 

Jaehyun stares at Eunwoo’s arm that’s thrown over your shoulder. He’s not sure when or how you got close with each other. He doesn’t remember Eunwoo having so much skinship with you. 

“You came to the right place.” He flashes his pearly-white teeth as he smiles. His eyes form into beautiful crescents. “You’re lucky you’re good friends with Y/N. I always give discounts to her friends and family.”

You blow a kiss in Jungwoo’s direction. “Consider me your guardian angel, your one-way ticket to a perfect wedding. I’m expecting higher pay for this job, Jungwoo.”

Jaehyun nods his head at Eunwoo. “Do you have any samples prepared for us to taste?”

“Yep.” Eunwoo’s smile wipes off his face. “Hey, you didn’t show up to the group function for the third time! You didn’t even get a chance to taste the new chocolate croissants I baked!”

“At this rate, I’m going to get diabetes with all the cupcakes you bring to our hangouts.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I’m sure Jungkook would be more than happy to take your treats instead.”

“Stop being a no-show at our hangouts and have fun for once. I swear you’re always cooped up in your apartment.” Eunwoo raises an eyebrow at him.

“I agree. Please take him out of the apartment for me. It’s so difficult. It’s not an easy one-man job.” You sigh, following Jungwoo to an empty booth.

Jaehyun and Eunwoo break out into smiles and follow suit. The four of you sit in one booth and one of the cashier employees drops by with the menu. 

“Is there anything in particular that you have in mind? Ideas? Suggestions?” 

“Clara has quite a sweet tooth. She really loves red velvet cakes.” Jungwoo starts off.

Eunwoo hums. “I guess we can start from there. I’ll bring some slices of different cakes and you can taste them, see if you like them, and then we can choose your top three.”

“Am I missing something between the two of you?” Jaehyun asks you once Eunwoo heads to the back of the kitchen to fetch several slices of different cakes. 

You raise an eyebrow. “No?”

“You and Eunwoo seem oddly close. He told me that he has a new girlfriend.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

Jungwoo kicks your foot underneath the table and you have to bite your lip to contain the painful yelp threatening to come out. You send him a death glare. 

“We’re not dating.” You laugh and the serious look on his face surprises you. “Wait, did you think his new girlfriend was me?”

“If I didn’t know you or Eunwoo, I would’ve been convinced enough to think that the two of you were dating.” Jaehyun mumbles.

Jungwoo’s eyebrows raise and he turns to face you. You look at him questioningly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Didn’t Eunwoo have the biggest crush on you—”

“Here are the samples.”

Your mouths clamp shut when Eunwoo arrives with a tray filled with several slices of cake. You and Jaehyun meet eyes and he squints them at you. 

“These are all the red velvet cakes we serve.” Eunwoo explains. Sitting on the table are a variety of red velvet cakes, it’s almost difficult to find a difference between each one. 

“They all look the same.” Jaehyun chuckles. 

“Shall we start cake tasting?”

Everyone glances at Jungwoo and he smiles sheepishly. 

“Let’s dig in.”

As the three of you dig into the first slice of a red velvet cake, Jaehyun finds himself glancing at you as you take a bite. Unknowingly, you get some of the cream cheese icing on the side of your mouth. He feels a sudden urge to reach out and wipe it off for you. He decides not to, and instead, kicks your foot underneath the table. You jump in your seat, looking up and your eyes meet Jaehyun’s. He points at the corner of his mouth.

“You have icing,” he mumbles and your eyes slightly widen. You wipe the side of your mouth and he chuckles. You look quite endearing and adorable right now. “No, you missed it.”

“I did?” You pout, wiping your mouth again until Jaehyun gives up.

He reaches over from across the table and wipes the icing off the side of your mouth with his thumb. Your doe-eyes look into his. Did your heart just skip a beat? You’ve never felt your heart beat this fast. You’ve never seen Jaehyun up this close. His face is so close to yours that you could count his eyelashes. 

“You could’ve just given her a napkin to wipe it off.”

The two of you tear away from each other like two repelling magnets. You look at Jungwoo, completely in a daze. His eyes dart between the two of you and a grin slowly spreads across his lips. Jaehyun, however, looks unbothered. 

The cake tasting session takes up two hours of your afternoon and ends up with Jungwoo choosing three distinct red velvet cakes. The wedding cake will be a three-tier red velvet cake, with each tier being one of the three cakes Jungwoo chose, respectively. And just as Eunwoo promised, Jungwoo got a discount for the wedding cake. 

The three of you are metres away from the bake shop when you hear your name being called out from behind. When you look over your shoulder, you find Eunwoo jogging up to you with a small cake box in his arms. 

“Y/N!”

“Eunwoo, slow down before you fall on your face.”

He catches up to you and grabs your hands to place the small box onto them. You quirk an eyebrow. 

“It’s for your mother. We made too many batches of strawberry shortcakes.” 

You smile. “You really didn’t need to, but thanks.”

Jaehyun watches you beam at Eunwoo. He barely notices the unsettling feeling in his gut at the sight of the two of you. Jungwoo’s in the middle of answering a phone call. 

“Today?” Jungwoo’s flustered. He scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah—Well—we can probably make it on time, I guess. You’re open until six?”

Eunwoo bids a farewell and jogs back to his bake shop. Jaehyun looks at you suspiciously as you look back at him with a questioning look. Jungwoo clasps his hands together. 

“I guess we’re making a trip to the flower shop. Their client booked for today cancelled last minute and offered to meet with us instead.”

You and Jaehyun share a look. Jaehyun has a growing hatred for flowers and going to the flower shop would be his biggest nightmare. Jaehyun looks nervous but he covers it up with a small smile. 

“Let’s get going then. We wouldn’t want them waiting, right?” Jaehyun insists. 

“What—Jaehyun—” He cuts you off with a look that tells you that he’ll be just fine. You frown, watching him follow Jungwoo to his car. 

Jaehyun looks over his shoulder. “Are you coming or not?”

He doesn’t want to be here. Clearly. It’s evident through the intense staring contest he’s having with the shop’s lit up sign, Lina’s Blooming Flowers. This is his biggest fear and nightmare. Stepping foot inside the flower shop would be major character development for him. It’s similar to the feeling of stepping on the edge of a cliff and counting down before bungee jumping. Nervousness and anxiousness is etched all over his face.

For a brief moment, his nervousness fades away when he feels your hand being placed on his shoulder. You give his shoulder one reassuring squeeze. He glances at you and you give him an encouraging smile.

“We made it just in time with an hour to spare before their closing time!” Jungwoo says excitedly. 

The last time Jaehyun stepped foot inside a flower shop was when he bought his mother flowers for Mother’s Day. At the time, he wasn’t aware of the disease he had. He vividly remembers the scent of fresh lavender and hyacinth. Back then, the fragrant smell of flowers brought him warmth and a sense of rebirth or renewal. Now, just a whiff of flowers makes him nauseous. 

As the three of you enter the shop, you can hear Jaehyun let out a breath that he’s been holding in for heaven knows how long. Standing at the front desk is a woman around your age, wrapping a bouquet of flowers in plastic wrap. It’s an assortment of white and red roses. Red roses. It’s the flower that Jaehyun has grown to hate because they remind him of her. You feel yourself wince and shrivel up, trying to think of ways to distract Jaehyun from seeing the roses. But it’s too late when she catches everyone’s attention with a gasp of panic. Jaehyun stares at the bouquet of roses and feels his lungs start to clog up just at the sight of them. The florist is quickly finishing her job before approaching the three of you.

“Jungwoo, right?” She asks.

Jaehyun snaps out of his gaze and looks at the woman walking towards the three of you. His eyebrows raise. 

“Yes! That’s me.” 

“Great! Sorry for the wait,” she apologizes sheepishly. “I’m Lina, the florist of this shop.”

As she shakes each one of your hands, she extends her hand out to Jaehyun and he looks at her in complete daze. She giggles when Jaehyun is brought back to reality, finally shaking her hand. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and you don’t fail to notice how red Jaehyun’s ears are. This is the first time Jaehyun’s heart skipped a beat since his last breakup. He earns another nudge from you.

“Are you okay?” You mouth at him and he nods his head.

He’s surprised. It’s the first time he forgot about his hatred and fear for flowers, even if it was just for a brief moment. 

And it’s all because of a beautiful florist. 

“Let’s get started with the colour scheme.” Lina suggests, guiding everyone to the front desk. She pulls out a book filled with many colour schemes and hands it to Jungwoo. She smiles at you and says, “Is there anything you had in mind for your wedding?”

You break out into a chuckle. “Oh, no, I think you got it all wrong—I’m not, no—me? No. I’m not the fiancé. I’m just a—”

“She’s my wedding planner.” Jungwoo cuts you off and points at Jaehyun. “He’s my wedding planner too.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She exclaims. “I had no idea. It’s my fault for making such assumptions.”

You wave it off. “It’s alright. No worries.”

She laughs nervously. “Shall we continue choosing the colour scheme?”

Jungwoo’s busy skimming through the book and having a FaceTime call with his pregnant fiancé to pick the colour scheme together. Jaehyun’s eyes scan the shop, looking at all the different types of flowers. He spots the peonies placed in metal vases along with roses of different colours. He could probably run a flower shop himself if he fully overcame his hatred and fear of flowers, all because he knows every single kind of flower that exists. 

It seems promising. 

“Have you been here before?” He hears someone ask and he turns around. It’s Lina. 

“Maybe once when I was younger.” He replies. 

“Oh, I see.” She purses her lips into a tight line. “You look familiar. Did you come to the shop with your grandmother, perhaps? On Mother’s Day?”

His mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape. “Yes, I have.”

“No wonder!” She exclaims. “So you’re the little boy I wanted to befriend when I helped my mother run the shop.”

“So, we’ve met?” Jaehyun scratches the back of his neck and she nods vigorously. 

He tries to dig through his memories to try and remember Lina. It takes a while until he squints his eyes at the familiar set freckles on her cheeks and her light brown eyes. He lets out a soft gasp. 

“You’re the little girl I accidentally bumped into!” 

“And you made me spill all the water from the watering can!”

Soft laughter can be heard from the front desk. It breaks your focus on helping Jungwoo with the colour scheme. You look over your shoulder to find Jaehyun laughing along with the florist, Lina. They seem to be very engaged in their conversation. Jaehyun looks… happy. There’s not a single wave of nervousness or anxiousness on his face or in his gestures. It makes a wide smile form on your lips. 

But why do you feel a little bit left out? Why do you feel like you’re missing out? Why do you feel slightly jealous that someone else is putting a smile on Jaehyun’s face? Is it wrong to feel jealous?

“Y/N.”

Your head snaps in Jungwoo’s direction and he looks at you with concern. You barely realize that your eyebrows were furrowed the entire time until you feel your face soften. “Yeah?”

“Everything alright?” He asks. “I asked you the same question four times and you didn’t answer.”

“O-Oh, were you? Sorry, I was just—what were you saying?”

It was a huge relief for Jungwoo and Clara when they realized that they didn’t need to hire a photographer. It just so happened that you, their wedding planner slash best friend, has a huge knack for photography. Thus, the engaged couple will not need to worry about the expenses. 

“This is sick.” Jaehyun utters out when Jungwoo pulls up to the photo shooting location. 

You look out the window. Jungwoo and Clara decided to have their prenuptial photos taken at a location where they had their first date. It’s extremely romantic. They had their first date out on a large field of sunflowers. Sunflowers are scattered across the field, along with some grass patches where couples and families would have a small picnic. 

The first thing you notice is how Jaehyun pays no mind to the sunflowers ahead of him. He’s looking at them with his two eyes and not a single reaction is coming out of him. That is, until he breaks out into a smile. 

You tilt your head in confusion. Huh?

Jaehyun’s taking some photos on his phone. “I should send these to Lina. I think she’ll love it.”

You raise an eyebrow. You grin. “You seem to be getting very close with Lina.”

He blushes. “We are. I actually asked her to hang out with me this Friday.”

“Look at you!” You exclaim with a teasing grin. “Since when were you picking up girls without telling me?”

“I was going to tell you today.” He laughs and it dies down when he thinks of something. “You know, I have a great feeling that she may be the one.”

The one? Your smile slightly falters. Of the five times that Jaehyun told you that the woman he has fallen in love with could be the one, you’ve always been extremely happy and supportive. But why was it that this time around, you didn’t feel as happy? 

“Let’s get started with the shoot! I found the perfect place!” Clara says. 

“R-Right!” You exclaim, grabbing Jaehyun’s arm. The two of you jog to catch up with the engaged couple. 

As you reach the spot, Jungwoo and Clara do some quick fix ups on each other. You’re busy setting up the equipment and Jaehyun’s in the midst of having a phone call with Lina. Every now and then, you find yourself trying to sneak a glance at Jaehyun, only to see him smiling so wide that his dimples were showing. 

Suddenly, you feel a sharp pain in your lungs. Your tripod collapses onto the grass as you gasp for some air. Clara notices and immediately rushes over to you. You’re still trying to catch your breath. You feel as if you’ve run a marathon. Your breathing is low and deep. Your throat feels like it’s on fire. 

“Y/N?” You hear Jaehyun ask as he heads towards you. “Everything alright? What happened?”

Clara is handing you a bottle of water. You pry the cap open and chug half of the bottle down. You gasp for air and start a small coughing fit. “Do I need to call an ambulance? Y/N, you’re getting pale. Have you been feeling unwell since this morning?”

Your legs feel like jello and they give out, sending you to the grass. You clench your eyes shut and you could barely answer their concerns. It takes you a couple of minutes to get back to normal. 

“Y/N, look at me.”

Clara is forcing you to face her when she cups your cheeks with her hands. Jungwoo is in complete shock, not saying a single word. Jaehyun looks extremely concerned for you. 

“I’m okay. I think it’s because I skipped breakfast this morning.” You say as you finally catch your breath. 

The pain in your lungs goes away instantly. You’ve finally gained power to stand up again. You’re not sure what happened to you because you’ve never experienced this in your life. 

“Are you sure? It didn’t look like it.” Jungwoo bites his lip nervously. 

“I’ll be fine.” You reassure them. “Let’s get on with the shoot.”

After five minutes of them protesting you to go home and get rested, they finally give in to your stubbornness and decide to finish up the photoshoot. 

The photos come out beautifully. There are photos of Jungwoo and Clara running through the field of sunflowers. There are single shots of Clara caressing her baby bump with one hand and holding a sunflower in the other. There are solo shots of Jungwoo hiding behind sunflowers and popping out from behind it. 

“You should really start a photography business.”

You look over your shoulder to see Clara. She’s looking at the photos you’ve taken through the viewfinder. 

“Should I?” You ask and she nods. 

“You’re very talented, Y/N. I know a couple of photographers who run their own businesses. I could hook you up.” She winks at you. 

“I don’t know, I have a lot of things I want to accomplish.” You say, feeling unsure. 

“You should give it a try. You never know what the future has in store for you.”

“He said he’ll be running late.”

You tell Jungwoo as you catch up to him. The three of you were supposed to go venue-hunting for reception. However, ever since the three of you visited the flower shop, Jaehyun had started to bail out on the wedding plans. You couldn’t blame him, he probably needed time off to himself after spending a whole afternoon with flowers. But what threw you off was the sound of feminine laughter when he had called you to notify that he’d be running late.

“Late?” You nod. “Weird.”

“It’s alright. We can do it without him.” You reassure the soon-to-be groom. 

The two of you arrive at the first venue. It’s a reception hall for roughly a thousand guests. It’s huge and spacious. Your eyes scan through the venue and you immediately spot the huge chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. You frown.

“I don’t think Clara will like it,” you say as you point up at the chandeliers. “Doesn’t she hate grand decorations like chandeliers?”

Jungwoo hums in agreement. “Shall we get going to the next venue?”

You nod and head towards the owner of the reception hall. You fake a smile. 

“We’ll get back to you if we’re interested in renting out the space.” You insist and the owner agrees. “Thank you for your time.”

The second venue is everything it promised to be. You stare at the venue in awe. If you were to ever get married, this was the venue you’d choose. It’s a venue where modern meets boho. Instead of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, there are potted plants and flowers with fairy lights wrapped around them. The chairs are wooden and the tables are long enough for roughly ten guests. On both sides of the room, there are large windows overlooking a field of flowers. 

“Clara would love this venue,” Jungwoo says in awe. 

You nod in agreement. “I think so too.”

You hear the owner greet customers and you turn around to see Jaehyun arriving with… Lina? You and Jungwoo share a look. 

“Sorry for running late,” Jaehyun apologizes. 

Lina smiles sheepishly. “I’m so sorry for tagging along. I hope it’s alright with you, Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo lets out an uneasy chuckle. “Yeah, no worries. You are the florist for our wedding, how can I say no to you?”

The owner approaches the four of you. “I’m assuming the two of you are also looking for a venue for your wedding?”

Jaehyun and Lina stare at each other before blushing. You feel your eyes squint in suspicion. Jungwoo feels confused. Since when were these two close? Did something happen between the two of them? 

“We’re not getting married.” Lina shakes her head. “We’re just friends, right, Jaehyun?”

“Yeah, we’re just best friends.” Jaehyun tells the owner.

You stop yourself from scoffing. Best friends? Since when were they best friends? They clearly just met a couple of days ago and now they’ve upgraded to best friends from being strangers? 

Jungwoo nudges you. You snap out of it. “Let’s just keep this venue on the list and move onto the last one, alright?”

Why are you looking into it too much? 

“S-Sure.” You mutter.

You never consider yourself hot-headed. But this is the first time you’ve ever felt your blood boil and your blood pressure shoot up. Jungwoo hops into the driver’s seat. You decide to sit in the front passenger’s seat, looking at the rearview mirror to see Jaehyun and Lina hop in the back. They’re sitting awfully close to each other, with their shoulders brushing. You huff out a breath, looking away and distracting yourself with the clouds in the sky. 

Jungwoo tears his gaze from the road and glances at you. A soft smile spreads across his lips when he sees you mumbling to yourself. To you, you don’t think it’s obvious. But to Jungwoo, he can see how jealous you are over the two lovebirds sitting in the back of his car. He looks in his rearview mirror to see Jaehyun holding Lina’s hand.

He sighs.

“Today’s going to be a long day.”

“Of all the times Jaehyun bails out, he decides to bail out on the suit fitting too?”

Jungwoo’s standing in front of the mirror, fixing his tie. One of the tailors, Jungkook, who’s a close friend of Jaehyun’s, is standing right behind him with a rack filled with other suits. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders. There’s nothing much you could do. You could scold Jaehyun for being such a slacker, but you decide not to. 

“The grey looks great on you,” Jungkook compliments Jungwoo. “I’m wearing a grey suit to my wedding too.”

“You’re getting married?” You blurt out and Jungkook chuckles.

“I’m surprised you haven’t gotten your invitation yet.” He mumbles. “It should be coming in the mail in the next couple of days. My fiance and I just mailed them out last Friday.”

“I got my invitation.” Jungwoo adds. “I guess we’re all getting quite old since I’m attending weddings left and right.”

Jungkook smirks. “I bet Jaehyun’s going to be next.”

Your ears perk up in curiosity. Jungwoo looks at you through the reflection in the mirror. As he studies your reaction, Jungkook helps button up the ends of his sleeves.

“Jaehyun?” You ask.

“Yeah, at the rate, him and that florist will end up together.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. 

You frown but you try to cover it up with a smile. “Cute.”

“They’ve been hanging out a lot recently,” he adds, fixing up Jungwoo’s collar. He dusts off his shoulders and turns back around to look at Jungwoo’s reflection in the mirror. “I think the reason why he bailed out on you guys today is because they’re going to an amusement park.”

Jungwoo furrows his eyebrows. “He bailed out on this for a day at the amusement park?”

“Don’t tell him I told you.” Jungkook warns him. “If he ever finds out, he’ll have me dead.”

Jungwoo glances at you and you try to avoid fuming in anger. Who would’ve thought that Jaehyun would choose a woman he barely knows, over his own best friend who’s getting married in a couple of months? There’s disappointment written all over Jungwoo’s face and it fails to remain hidden. Jungkook, on the other hand, feels like he has just ruined the entire atmosphere and decides to give Jungwoo a discount on his suit in compensation.

As Jungwoo’s paying for his suit, you’re scrolling through your social networking account and right when Jungkook’s cashier machine lets out a soft ‘ding!’, you find Jaehyun’s new post. 

And indeed, it’s a picture of him and Lina at the amusement park.

Why do you feel sad? Why do you wish that it was you instead of her? Why do you always feel like you’re missing out whenever he’s with her? Why is he spending more time with her and less time with you?

Why do you feel this way?

You’ll never know.

Clara looks stunning in her wedding dress. You stare at her in awe as the tailor is zipping up the dress for her. Her baby bump is starting to show underneath her dress. You’re too distracted by her beauty to notice that Jaehyun and Lina are entering into the shop. 

Clara’s gaze tears away from you as she spots Jaehyun and Lina. She furrows her eyebrows in confusion. “Jaehyun, you came?”

Jaehyun nods. “Jungwoo told me to accompany you. You know him, he believes in that stupid superstition.”

She waves at Lina. “I’m guessing you’re Lina?”

“Yes, you guessed right.” Lina giggles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. It’s probably a mannerism of hers whenever the attention is on her, you note. 

“How do you like the dress, ma’am?” The tailor asks the bride-to-be.

“It’s nice, I think I might take this one. I’m not really particular with the dress.” She replies and an idea pops into her head. “Do you perhaps have any bridesmaid dresses ready for fitting?”

“Yes, we do. Do you want to start with the fitting for the bridesmaids?” The tailor questions.

“Yes. I want my maid of honour to pick out a dress—”

“Clara,” you look at her with surprise. “I literally just ate a hamburger, I feel bloated—”

“Stop overreacting and put a dress on. You look fine. You look beautiful.” She cuts you off. “Besides, we’re already here.”

“Fine.” You sigh with defeat, following the tailor into the back of the shop to pick out some dresses.

The dresses come in different colours. The couple plan on having the plain grey and white colour scheme. Your eyes scan the selection before you point out at two different dresses. The tailor looks at you and flashes a smile.

“You have a great eye for dresses, ma’am.” She compliments you and you chuckle.

“I guess being a wedding planner was a good idea.” You muse.

The first dress you put on is an elegant dress that reaches the floor. It’s strapless and has a long slit on the side, revealing your leg. As you look at yourself in the mirror, you bite your lip. You’ve never seen yourself dressed up like this.

“Let me see!” Clara exclaims.

As you walk out of the fitting room, your eyes meet Clara’s. She looks at you like she sees a ghost. You begin to panic.

“What? It looks bad?” You frown.

“No, you look,” she begins. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“T-Thanks?” You let out an uneasy laugh.

“You really look beautiful, Y/N.” Lina adds and you’re not sure what to say. 

You look at Jaehyun, who’s too busy texting someone on his phone. He remains unbothered and uninterested. Somehow, you have the urge to make him look at you. 

“Shall we try on the next dress?”

You snap out of your thoughts, looking at the tailor. “Sure.”

As you’re putting on the second dress, the tailor is helping you zip up at the back. The dress is a mermaid dress. It shows your curves at your hips and while the dress is off-shoulder, it reveals your collarbones, perfect for stacking necklaces. 

“How do I look?” You ask as you step out of the fitting room.

Jaehyun looks up from his phone when he hears Lina and Clara let out a gasp. The moment his eyes are on you, his eyebrows raise. You look stunning, it’s almost effortless. Your hair is put up in a messy low bun with strands of your hair framing your face. The last time he saw you dressed up like this was prom night. Time slows down for him and it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room. You’re laughing over a joke Clara probably said, but he finds himself getting lost in a trance by your beauty. 

“Jaehyun?” 

He snaps out of his trance to see Lina nudging him. He glances at her and she points at one of the dresses hung up on the rack. “Hm?”

“I was just telling you how that dress could look so beautiful on Y/N. What do you think?” Lina asks.

Jaehyun shakes his head. “No, I think the dress she has on is the one.”

“Really?” He hears you say. Both of your eyes meet.

He slowly nods his head, almost falling into another trance.

“It looks perfect.”

May 2nd. 

“I tried creating your wedding cake yesterday and this is how it turned out.”

You’re too busy looking out the window. The cherry blossoms have finally bloomed and there’s a plethora of couples out on dates. Eunwoo and Jungwoo’s chatter is drowned out by your thoughts and the sight of a young couple taking a selfie in front of a cherry blossom tree. There’s a small smile on your lips but it drops from your face when you’re reminded of Jaehyun. 

“Y/N?”

You slowly turn around. Eunwoo is asking you to join them in the kitchen. You push yourself off the window sill to join them. 

Jungwoo frowns. “Where’s Jaehyun? Did he bail out on us again?”

You nod. “Unfortunately. He said he wanted to take a day off from the planning.”

He scoffs. “A day off? There was never a day where he was with us.”

The three of you are cutting yourselves a slice of the wedding cake. Eunwoo can’t help but notice how quiet you’ve been since you entered the bakery shop. Your mind is flooded with thoughts that you can’t seem to explain or describe. They’re thoughts only you can understand. 

Eunwoo gets a phone call. “Excuse me, I have to take a phone call. Please go ahead and taste the cake.”

Eunwoo leaves the two of you in the back kitchen with a three-tier wedding cake. You’re poking your slice of cake with a fork and Jungwoo nudges you. 

“Is everything alright? You’ve been quiet all morning.”

You smile. “I’m alright. I guess I’m just a bit tired.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

You sigh. “Is it that obvious?”

“Very obvious,” he mumbles and tilts his head. “Did anything bad happen between you and Jaehyun?”

“What? No.” You answer. “Why? Does it look like it?”

Lately, Jungwoo’s been noticing a lot of things. He’s been noticing how whiny and angry you get whenever Jaehyun bails out on the two of you. He’s seen the longing stares you have whenever Jaehyun is around. He sees how nervous you get whenever you’re around Jaehyun because of the ridiculous amount of times you’ve fiddled with your fingers. You’re jealous and you don’t even know it.

He sees himself in you. The last time he’s been like this was when he first fell in love with his fiance.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Jungwoo, I need your help.”

The both of you look at each other and laugh. He takes a bite of his cake. “Oh, this is delicious! Anyways, you go first.”

“How do you know if you’re in love with someone?”

He chokes on his cake. You pat his back and offer him a glass of water. “Sorry, repeat that for me.”

“How do you know if you’re in love with someone?” You ask again. “I’ve never been in love before, so I figured you would be the perfect person to ask.”

“It depends.” He starts off explaining.

“How so?” You mumble. 

“It’s different for every person. When I fell in love with Clara, I always felt happy around her. I’d always find myself putting in more effort. I’d find myself thinking about her even though I shouldn’t be, I’d wonder if she had eaten her meals, if she’s getting enough sleep. But I knew that I was falling in love with her when she started liking someone else. I figured that I would shoot my shot whether she liked me or not because I felt that I owed it to myself.”

You smile. “And all this time, she was in love with you.”

He nods his head with a warm smile. He wiggles his eyebrows. “Have you been feeling that way?”

You’ve always felt happy around Jaehyun. You and Jaehyun are like two peas in a pod. You’re both stuck together like glue. He makes you a better person everyday. You can’t imagine your life without him. 

You’ve always been putting in more effort. When Jaehyun got his heart broken five times, you’ve always been there. You chose to stay. 

Lately, Jaehyun has been on your mind more than usual. Ever since he started bailing out on helping Jungwoo plan his wedding, you’ve been wondering if he’s doing alright or if there’s anything wrong. Ever since he started hanging out with Lina, you’ve been wondering if she’s been treating him out for his favourite ice cream or if he’s been eating his meals with her. Sometimes, Jaehyun would make you worry and all it took for those worries to go away was one phone call or text from him. 

But maybe you’re falling in love with Jaehyun. Ever since he started showing interest in Lina, it was slowly starting to make you realize that you too, have feelings and you too, can fall in love. You’ve been comparing yourself to Lina. You’ve been craving to hold Jaehyun’s hand. Whenever he smiles at you, it’s like the whole world stops and you’re not sure how to act. You feel shy around him, which is unusual for you. You’re never shy around your best friend. 

But I knew that I was falling in love with her when she started liking someone else. 

“Holy shit.”

You’re in love with Jaehyun. You’ve been in denial about your feelings for him this entire time. You’re in love with your best friend, Jaehyun. 

“Language!” Jungwoo scolds you. 

I figured that I would shoot my shot whether she liked me or not because I felt that I owed it to myself.

“I have to go.”

Jungwoo watches you scramble for your things. You’re in a rush. As you leave the kitchen, Jungwoo can’t help but smile. He knows. He knows that you’re in love with Jaehyun. You don’t need to tell him because he sees it. 

“I’m just a couple blocks down from the cafe, the driver can park in front of the bakery—Y/N?”

“I have to go! Let me know how it goes!”

Eunwoo looks at you bewilderedly as you wave at him. You’re running down the street with your purse barely slung over your shoulder. He tilts his head in confusion. 

“Where is she going?”

Jungwoo steps out of the bakery and places his hand on Eunwoo’s shoulder. 

“She’s going to shoot her shot.”

As you reach the bus stop, you see a bus loading on passengers. You let out a groan and sprint to the bus, hoping to get on it. Fortunately, you hopped onto the bus, completely out of breath. Pulling out your phone, you dial Jaehyun’s phone number. 

“Hello? Y/N?” You hear Jaehyun’s voice after a couple of rings. 

“Jaehyun!” You greet him. “Where are you? I need to tell you something.”

“Perfect timing! I have something to tell you too.” 

“Let’s meet at the pier, where the cherry blossoms bloomed.” You suggest and you can hear him smile on the other line. 

“Perfect. I’m almost there. I’ll see you!” He chuckles. 

“I’ll see you.”

A couple of minutes pass and you look out the window to see cherry blossom trees. The bus halts to a stop and you rush out, walking fast in search of your best friend. It’s a difficult search because there are too many couples roaming the pier. Just as you’re about to give up and call Jaehyun—

“Y/N!”

You look to your right to see Jaehyun jogging towards you. As the two of you meet halfway, you timidly wave at him. He looks so beautiful with the cherry blossoms behind him. You find yourself staring in awe. 

“What was it that you needed to tell me?” You both ask in unison. 

“You go first.” You insist. 

“Are you sure?” You laugh, playfully hitting his arm. 

“Go first.” 

He bites his lip, a smile threatening to spread across his lips. He looks nervous. His dimples are showing. His ears are extremely red. You feel your heart skip a beat too many. Your heart is beating so fast that you’re afraid he can hear it. 

“I asked Lina to be my girlfriend and she said yes!”

Your smile threatens to fade away. But you don’t even dare let it fall off your face, no matter how shattered your heart is. It’s fascinating how Jaehyun can make your heart beat faster than normal and shatter it into pieces in one day. You’re not sure if you’re happy for him or sad that you just got rejected. 

“O-Oh! That’s—That’s great! Con—Congratulations!” 

Jaehyun notices that your eyes are glassy. He pays no attention to it when you pull him into a tight embrace. You rest your head on his shoulder, blinking away the tears threatening to form in your eyes. He pulls away from the hug. 

“What did you want to tell me?” 

You look up at him. “Oh. It’s nothing. It’s not that important anymore—”

“What? No, you’re lying—”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about starting a photography business. Clara managed to convince me. She might help run it with me.” You tell a white lie. 

“Really?! I’m so proud of you!” He exclaims and pulls you back into another hug. 

You find yourself hugging Jaehyun tighter. It might be because this may be the last time you could hug him. He belongs to someone else now. Your chance is gone. You wish you could blame yourself for being a little too late, but you’re too busy drowning in your sadness. 

A little too late. 

Just a little. 

And you hate being late. 

That night, you find yourself sitting in your bathroom. Hugging your knees to your chest, you let out a soft sob. The fear and vulnerability you feel is that of like a huge bucket of ice cold water being poured on you. Scattered around the bathroom floor are cherry blossom petals. You glance at your camera that’s still turned on, with a candid photo of Jaehyun focused on the viewfinder. 

Everything was starting to make sense. 

From your nauseous episodes to your shortness of breath, it led up to this. Everything feels numb. All you can remember is Jaehyun’s dimply smile and the beautiful cherry blossom trees behind him. You never thought it would come to this. 

In the toilet are cherry blossom petals. You manage to gather yourself and you slowly get up to flush the toilet. You watch all the cherry blossom petals go down the toilet. 

Jaehyun loves cherry blossoms. 

The more you stare at the cherry blossom petals that you’ve thrown up, the more you start to hate them. You’re starting to hate them because it reminds you of your heartbreak, it’s a sign of rejection, and it tells you one thing; Jaehyun’s not in love with you. 

“The invitations came out beautifully!”

You tell Jungwoo who lets out a soft chuckle as you’re showing him your invitation that you had just gotten from your mailbox. He flashes two thumbs up through your laptop screen. Behind him, you spot Clara taking pictures of their newly renovated baby room. 

“Have you heard from Jaehyun, lately? I haven’t seen him since we all met up to finalize the invitations.” 

You ponder on whether you should pretend to have mistakenly hung up on the video call, but you know that Jungwoo wouldn’t buy such a lie. You gnaw on your lip, thinking of an answer to tell him. 

You give up. You shake your head. “I’m sure he’s busy with Lina. They’re dating now.”

“What?” Clara yells, disregarding her photo taking session to join in the conversation. You chuckle lightheartedly. Jungwoo furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “He has a girlfriend now? And it’s not you?”

“Did you want it to be me?” 

“Uh, yes?” Clara answers. She frowns. “Is that why you’ve been looking down lately?”

“Have I?” The couple share a look and nod in reply. It’s true. You’ve been feeling down because of the heartbreak, but you can’t help it. You’ve learned that when you fall in love with someone, you fall hard. However, you’re never ready for the heartbreak. 

“Your crush on Jaehyun is quite obvious, Y/N.” Jungwoo points out. “It just took you longer to realize it.”

“I’m happy for him,” you muster up a smile. “This just means that it isn’t meant to be.”

You’re not meant to be together. You know it from the cherry blossoms that you flush down the toilet. You know it from the sharp pain in your lungs and the breathing attack you have because of it. You know it from how distant Jaehyun has been. You know it because of her.

You won’t ever blame it on her because you have come to the conclusion that you’re not meant for Jaehyun. The cherry blossoms are a sign for you to move on.

“Well, I think you and Jaehyun are perfect for each other.” Clara attempts at convincing you but you barely buy it. “You guys are like two peas in a pod. I can’t see one of you without the other.”

You flash a small smile. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you know that the couple can see how fake your smile is through their laptop screen. 

“He has Lina now. I think that’s what matters. He doesn’t need me anymore.”

“Are you even listening to yourself—”

There’s a knock at the door, interrupting your conversation. You’re not expecting any guests at the hour and you don’t have any packages arriving until tomorrow. As you excuse yourself, you shuffle towards the door to look through the peephole. Standing on the other side of the door is a tall guy, holding up a box in front of his face. You giggle.

“Cha Eunwoo! What are you doing here?”

He moves the box away from his face and beams at you. 

“I decided to pay you a visit! It’s been quite a while since I’ve come over, huh?”

“It feels quite odd having you over.”

Eunwoo quirks an eyebrow. He’s cutting two slices of chocolate cake, one for you and the other for him. Standing right next to him, you pour two glasses of wine for the both of you. 

“What do you mean?” He laughs. 

“You never come over.” You shrug your shoulders. “When you do come over, it’s usually because you’re having girl problems.”

He scoffs. “I do not have girl problems—”

“You do.” You cut him off, looking up at him with a grin. He squints his eyes at you. 

“Now you make it seem like I have this huge issue when it comes to girls and my dating life—”

You stifle a giggle. “But it’s true, though.”

He frowns. “Is it really?”

You nod your head. “Sadly.”

The coffee table is set up lazily with Eunwoo’s cake that he had made for the two of you, along with a bottle of wine that you’ve barely touched since receiving it as a birthday gift. A movie is playing softly in the background as you and Eunwoo catch up with each other’s lives. 

“Have you seen Jaehyun, lately?”

“No. I figured he’d be busy helping out with Jungwoo’s wedding.” Eunwoo replies. “Is he not helping out?”

“Ever since he started dating Lina, he hasn’t been showing up. It’s only been me helping Jungwoo plan out his wedding.” You explain. 

“He’s dating? Since when?”

“Not sure. I haven’t seen him.” You swirl your wine in your glass before taking a huge sip. 

“Shouldn’t you know? I mean, you’re his best friend, his partner in crime. If there was someone who knew him most, it would be you.” He takes a bite of his slice of cake. 

“Surprise?” You chuckle. “I don’t know anything about his current relationship. Sorry to disappoint.”

You start to feel slightly dizzy. You’re not sure if it’s the wine or if you’re experiencing the same symptoms. Within a couple of minutes, your head starts to pound. Eunwoo takes notice of how quiet you’ve gotten, staring at you to make sure everything is alright. You grab your forehead, eyebrows knitting together as your head continues to pound. You feel weak. Seconds later, your lungs start to tighten and your breathing slows down. 

“Y/N. Are you alright?” He asks. 

You try to look up at him but your head feels heavy. You nod your head but he doesn’t believe it. 

“Excuse me,” you whisper as you struggle to get onto your feet. 

The symptoms are showing up again. You’re stumbling on your way to the bathroom. Your lungs feel full, causing you to have trouble breathing. As soon as you reach your bathroom, you bend over the toilet. 

You spend fifteen minutes throwing up cherry blossom petals into the toilet. You’ve been too distracted by your condition to notice that you’ve left the bathroom door open. Eunwoo rushes over to the bathroom and stops in his tracks. 

His eyebrows raise in surprise. What he sees in front of him is all too familiar. Scattered around the floor are petals of a cherry blossom. His eyes travel towards you. You’re bent over the toilet, throwing up petals. He feels his blood run cold. 

“Y/N.”

You cough, sighing with relief. Your lungs finally empty out again. Your headache vanishes. As you lean your restless figure against the wall, you look up to see Eunwoo standing at the doorway. He’s just as surprised as you are. 

He gestures at the petals. “They look… beautiful.”

You fake a smile. 

“But Y/N, my mother went through the same thing.” He confesses. “This all reminds me of her. Instead of the cherry blossoms, she had stargazer lilies.”

“Those must’ve been beautiful,” you mumble. 

He takes a seat next to you. “Who would’ve thought that something so precious, so beautiful, would end up looking like this?”

You fiddle with your fingers. “Eunwoo, can you promise me something?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t tell anyone about this. Not even Jaehyun.” You beg. “He can’t find out.”

The dots were connecting in his head. If you didn’t want Jaehyun to find out about this, this only meant one thing. 

“This is all because of Jaehyun?” His eyes round in shock and you slowly nod your head. He picks up a petal from the floor and analyzes it. 

“Promise me, Eunwoo. Please.”

He tears his gaze from the petal to look at you. Your eyes are filled with sadness. 

“I promise, only if you promise to do something in return.” He insists. 

“What do you want me to do?” 

He places his hand on top of yours. “Please get yourself checked. I’m afraid you have the same condition as my mother.”

You nod. 

“I promise.”

Later that night, Eunwoo helps you book an appointment with a doctor at the local hospital. You can’t help but appreciate the effort Eunwoo has been giving. During the times where you have been going through a lot, you would have expected Jaehyun to be there for you, just like how you were there for him. But t times where you needed Jaehyun the most, he was nowhere to be found. Instead, Eunwoo has been the one who stuck around. 

You can’t help but think that being apart from Jaehyun may be nothing but for the better. 

The first thing you do once you step out of the Doctor’s office is let out the longest, tiring sigh. The next thing you do is stare at a short list of prescribed medications. You let out yet another tiring sigh. Falling in love should be a paid job if it’s getting you all worked up for heartbreak. 

“Y/N?”

It takes you a couple of seconds to realize that your name is being called. The soft voice calling out your name snaps you out of your trance. Standing a couple of metres away is Clara, who looks surprised to see you in the hospital. She looks at the small Doctor’s note with your medications in your hand and slowly looks up at you. Behind you, she reads the sign on your Doctor’s office door. Disease Specialist. When your eyes meet, her gaze transforms from curiosity to concern.

“C-Clara, hey.” You let out a shaky laugh. “What brings you here? Check up? Ultrasound?”

“I’d like to ask you the same thing, what brings you here?” She replies. 

You scratch your neck nervously. “Nothing major. Do you have a ride going home? Is Jungwoo picking you up?”

She nods her head. “You can come with us. We’ll drop you off—”

“I’ll be alright—”

“Y/N, I want you to remember that you can trust me. We’re like sisters, remember?” She says and it’s all that it takes for your eyes to flood with tears. 

“Y-Yeah, like sisters.” You stutter. Your voice cracks and you cover it up with a cough. “I’ll explain everything when we get in the car.”

You don’t explain everything when you get in the car. Instead, the car ride is silent. You find it difficult to bring it up. Jungwoo looks at you through his rearview mirror and he feels Clara tightly squeeze his hand. He glances at her and she gives him a look of doubt.

“S-So,” Jungwoo starts off a conversation. You look away from the scenery of cars driving on the highway outside the window. He smiles at you through his rearview mirror. “The weather’s been really nice today, huh?”

You snort. This is the first time you’ve laughed since last night. In fact, you did not sleep well last night because of the nervousness you were feeling. It’s been a couple of weeks since Eunwoo referred you to a disease specialist when he encountered you and the cherry blossom petals filling up your lungs. But even after the appointment, you still feel nervous. 

“After today’s ultrasound, it’s safe to say that I’m not expecting twins.” Clara sighs with relief. “Imagine how painful delivering two babies in one go would be. Can’t relate.”

The couple continues to talk about the baby and you’re not sure when you can start telling them. You can sense that they’re trying to make you feel better just so that you can feel more comfortable telling them. When their conversation dies down and as Jungwoo turns right into your neighbourhood, you decide to drop the bomb.

“I have an illness.” 

Jungwoo slams on the brakes and Clara scolds him.

“Hanahaki Disease,” you mumble, chuckling bitterly. “Have you heard of it?”

“Y/N…” Clara trails off. She doesn’t believe you. You? Of all people, why did it have to be you? 

“It started when Jaehyun started dating Lina,” you explain. “The breathing attacks, the shortness of breath, the cherry blossom petals. It all led up to this.”

Jungwoo frowns. “Is that what I saw? Those petals lying around on your bathroom floor?”

You nod. There are tears streaming down your cheeks and you wipe them away, one by one. Clara grabs some tissues and hands them over to you. Jungwoo has no words to say.

“All I wanted to do was find love.” You whisper. “But look where it got me. Whenever I see those stupid petals, I feel like this is all wrong, like falling in love is wrong.”

“Falling in love isn’t wrong. It shouldn’t feel wrong.” Clara reassures you. “Whatever feelings you have for Jaehyun, those feelings aren’t wrong and shouldn’t be.”

“Have you perhaps told Jaehyun?” 

You shake your head. “He can’t find out.”

“Why not?” Jungwoo asks. 

“If I tell him, I’ll lose him.” You reply. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“Why did the Doctor say?” Clara asks. 

Clara watches you fall silent, choosing not to answer as you gather your things. You bid them a farewell and thank them for driving you home. As you step inside of your home, you slowly slide down the door.

“From your x-ray, it is safe to say that you have Hanahaki Disease. Have you heard of it before?”

You nod. “My best friend has it.”

“Perfect. I’m assuming you are more familiar with this disease than the average person. Let me give you a quick breakdown.”

Your eyes follow your Doctor who’s pointing at the leftover petals sitting in your lungs at the moment. He points at your x-ray. 

“The reason why you have this disease is solely because of unrequited love. You may have experienced rejection recently or the past couple of months, which resulted in the occupation of cherry blossom petals in your lungs.” He explains.

“How long will I have this disease? Is it curable?” You ask. 

“It’s curable. There are three ways to cure this disease. The first possible cure is if you fall in love with someone else who so happens to return the same feelings. The second cure is if the person who caused your heartbreak falls in love with you, which reverses the unrequited love.”

“And the last possible cure?”

He purses his lips into a tight line. “The last cure is to permanently remove the petals through surgery.”

“Surgery?” He nods his head. 

“Yes. But beware,” he warns. “Once you have surgery, those feelings you once had for that person would be permanently removed as well. You will no longer fall in love with that person anymore.”

“Where’s the bride-to-be?”

All of the ladies turn towards the door to see an unfamiliar woman entering the small restaurant. You turn around and you feel your blood run cold. Lina enters the small restaurant and greets Clara by kissing her cheek. She hands Clara her gift and makes her way towards you. Clara looks at you apologetically.

“Y/N! Nice to see you.” Lina smiles.

Indeed, Lina looks beautiful. She screams Jaehyun’s ideal type. You wish you were as beautiful as her, as charming as her. 

You smile back at her. “Nice to see you too, Lina.”

“I don’t really know anyone here except for you and Clara. Clara invited me last minute, since Jaehyun and I started dating and all.” She explains.

Your eyebrows raise. “Oh, that’s—that’s nice. Why don’t you go ahead and grab something to eat first?”

“Oh, right! I’ll go ahead. Thanks!” She exclaims, grabbing her plate and heading towards the buffet to get food.

Clara approaches you and nudges your side. “I’m sorry, I had to invite her or else Jaehyun would suspect something. Besides, she’s his date to the wedding, it would be awkward if I didn’t invite her to my bridal shower.”

You shrug it off. “It’s alright. I’m not bothered by it at all.”

The evening goes by smoothly and peacefully with Lina sitting right beside you at the table. Clara is busy opening all the bridal shower gifts with a fake veil on the crown of her head. You’re watching Clara as she opens Lina’s gift, and it so happens to be a bonsai. Clara gasps in surprise and rushes over to thank Lina for the gift. 

“It seems like she really likes it,” you chuckle.

“Jaehyun suggested it as a gift.” Lina adds. “Y/N, I’ve been wanting to get close with you, since you’re Jaehyun’s best friend.”

You turn around to face her. “Sure. We can be friends.”

“Jaehyun talks and thinks very highly of you. You’re very special to him, as his best friend. I hope we can be the same. It might be a bit awkward because I abruptly came into his life and everything.” She looks hesitant.

“He does?” You ask. “I am?”

She nods. “I envy you, sometimes, because aside from me, you’re also important to him. I guess it’s just a given, where it’s normal to envy your boyfriend’s best friend who so happens to be a woman.”

“You don’t need to envy me,” you chuckle lightheartedly. You lie. “I don’t have any feelings for him, if that’s what you want to know—”

She cuts you off with a look. “I know you’re in love with Jaehyun.”

Your mouth clamps shut. You’re not close with Lina, therefore, you’re not sure how to react. You analyze her reaction, to see whether she’ll burst out in anger, if she’ll shove you off your chair and start a catfight, or if she’ll peacefully deal with the situation.

“I’m not in love with Jaehyun, I promise you—”

She smiles. “I’m not blind, Y/N. Anyone can see it, even a stranger. The heart never lies.”

You hesitatingly place your hand on hers. “But he’s in love with you, not me. Don’t worry about it, Lina. He’s absolutely in love with you. You should keep your chin up and take care of him.”

Lina looks at you with an expression you can’t read. You were feeling all the symptoms again. Your head was beginning to throb in pain and your arms and legs were starting to feel weak. At this point, you knew when it was going to happen. You excuse yourself, wobbling your way towards the washroom. 

You experience the symptoms whenever you’re around Jaehyun, whenever you’re around Lina, or whenever he’s the one being talked about. Those are the times where you think about Jaehyun the most, and it brings you back to May 2nd where he had indirectly rejected you. Anything that relates to your rejection or unrequited love will trigger your symptoms.

You bend over the toilet and throw up the petals. It’s a large batch this time, you notice. Your lungs feel like they’re on fire. 

Jaehyun steps inside the restaurant venue to pick up his girlfriend when he finds you rushing towards the washroom. You look sick. He grows concerned and shoves his phone back into his pocket. As he heads to the washroom you’re in, he stops in front of the door at the sound of you throwing up. He has a feeling in his gut that he can’t explain, and it urges him to barge into the washroom.

Cherry blossom petals. It’s the first thing he sees. They’re scattered all over the floor. He follows a trail of the petals and it leads him to a stall that’s been left open. He peeks through the stall and he grows pale. 

You’re bent over the toilet, throwing up cherry blossom petals. To be more exact, you’re throwing up petals of his own favourite flower. Only someone with the same exact condition would be able to understand it and connect all the dots.

You’re in love with him.

But he’s not in love with you.

And that’s why you’re throwing up cherry blossom petals.

You have the disease, and it’s all because of his unrequited feelings for you.

He wishes this was just a terrible nightmare.

“Y/N?”

You freeze in your spot. You turn around to see Jaehyun standing at the doorway of the stall. With widened eyes, you try to utter out an explanation but he’s too busy looking at you with shock.

“You have it too?” He whispers. “And it so happens to be cherry blossoms. But you didn’t dare tell me?”

“Jaehyun—”

“How dare you keep this a secret from me?” Anger and a look of betrayal is washed all over his face and you slowly get up from the floor.

“Jaehyun, please just let me explain.” You plead.

“You don’t need to explain. I see it with my own two eyes, Y/N.” 

He shakes his head in disappointment and disbelief, barging out of the washroom. You take off your heels and chase after him. As Jaehyun steps out of the washroom, he walks past Jungwoo. He looks at Jaehyun confusedly.

“Jaehyun?” Jungwoo watches as you chase after Jaehyun.

“Jaehyun, wait!”

Jungwoo is completely speechless as he watches Jaehyun storm out of the restaurant. Jaehyun feels like his world is spinning. His thoughts are clouded that he barely notices the heavy rain that’s slowly drenching his clothes. He’s not sure what to do except run, run far away. But he hears you calling out his name.

“Jaehyun, let me explain!”

He stops in his tracks and slowly turns around to face you. It is only when he sees you that he realizes that it’s raining. “How could you do this to me?”

Your tears blend in with the rain that’s dripping down your face. “I was going to tell you after I told Clara and Jungwoo—”

“Tell me what, that you’re in love with me? That I’m the reason for those cherry blossoms?” He cuts you off, letting out a bitter chuckle. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too late, Y/N? I feel like you betrayed me. Everyone knew except me—”

“I didn’t tell you because I know you’re in love with her.” You explain. “I thought that if I told you, you’d end up leaving me.”

“Were you supposed to tell me all of this that day we met up? When I told you that Lina and I started dating?” He asks and you’re too afraid to answer. He lets out a frustrated sigh. “You’re afraid to lose me but the moment you kept all of this a secret from me, was when you started to lose me.”

“Jaehyun, I’m sorry—”

He shakes his head. “I can’t return the same feelings for you, Y/N. You’re my best friend. But I don’t think being your best friend would be good for you.”

“No, Jaehyun, we can work things out—”

“We can’t work things out, Y/N.” He cuts you off. “Just leave me alone. I don’t think I could ever trust you anymore. It’ll be the best for the both of us.”

“Jaehyun,” you beg, reaching out to him. You grab his hand but he shakes your hand off.

“I don’t want to see you ever again.”

It’s almost like you lost your voice. As Jaehyun hops into his car, his headlights blind you before he drives off. You feel yourself fall to your knees, your sobs getting louder and louder. Jungwoo steps out of the restaurant and stands underneath a roof to find you crying your heart out. Clara rushes outside to get you back inside the restaurant. Jungwoo knows that the sound of your loud cries will haunt him forever. 

Jungwoo sighs.

This didn’t end well.

1 ½  years later…

“You chose the perfect place!”

You smile, clinking glasses with Clara. As you overlook the exhibit, you take a sip of your champagne. You would have never thought your life would transform into something different within one year. But here you are, one year later, running an exhibit for your photographs. There are visitors of different professions, some are art students, others are fellow photographers. 

Someone clears their throat. You turn around, seeing Eunwoo. You eye the bouquet of gardenia and sweet pea in his arms. 

“Congratulations on your exhibit.” He hands you the bouquet and you chuckle. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I was wondering why you were late,” you mumble, sniffing the flowers. “Thanks for the flowers, they look lovely.”

“No problem. I’m really proud of you, Y/N—”

“Y/N? We have a bid for one of your photographs.” Your personal secretary, Hyejeong, interrupts the conversation. You raise an eyebrow in surprise. “He wants to meet you.”

“Sure,” you nod your head. You give Eunwoo an apologetic look. “Sorry. I’ll talk to you right after meeting the bidder!”

He waves it off. “No worries. Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

As you follow Hyejeong, you carry the bouquet in your arms. There are fellow photographers greeting and congratulating you, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks by the sudden attention. Hyejeong leads you to the far end of the exhibit. You feel your pace slow down. 

“He’s right there.” She points at the bidder.

You follow her gaze and it falls upon a man. Just from the sight of his back, you know exactly who the man is. A lot can happen in a year, and it’s evident through his hair that’s dyed a blue-black, even through his drastic change of fashion. He looks more mature. 

You let out a breath. “You can leave us, Hyejeong. I’m sure Clara needs you to help her entertain the visitors.”

She nods her head. “Let me know if you need me.”

As she leaves you and the bidder alone, you feel your grasp on your bouquet begin to tighten. You approach the man who seems to feel your presence. He turns around and a gasp is caught in your throat.

You gather yourself together. “Can I help you with anything?”

Jaehyun stares at you in shock. You’ve changed. Your hair is no longer long, for it’s cut short and stops right at your shoulders. You look more composed. You no longer look shy and introverted. But you look beautiful. 

You look so beautiful that it hurts him.

“R-Right—” He stutters and points at the photograph behind him. “I’d like to make a bid.”

You look at the photograph he’s pointing at. It’s a photograph of him. You had taken that photo of him during Jungwoo and Clara’s prenuptial photoshoot. He’s standing in the field of sunflowers with his arms stretched out. You named the photograph, Renewal, because it was the first time Jaehyun had overcome his hatred of flowers. 

You purse your lips into a tight line. “I’d like to have you know that photographs on this side of the exhibit are not up for auction. Did you not read the notice before entering the exhibit, sir?”

He scratches the back of his neck. He eyes the bouquet in your arms. “Is that so? Sorry about that, I guess I’ll keep on looking.”

“Sure.” You mumble. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Y/N.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Yes?”

He hesitantly smiles. You barely budge an inch and your expression remains blank. 

“It’s nice to see you. It’s nice to see you doing well.” He says with a hopeful gaze.

You nod your head and you prepare to say something extremely harsh, no matter how warm his smile is. You can’t let your guard down. You have every right to be mad at him. 

“I wish I could say the same to you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other clients to speak to.”

As you turn around, you feel your heart ache. Jaehyun watches you walk away from him, and he’s completely astonished. He expected this. He expected you to be coldhearted towards him and it’s all his fault. He acknowledges it, but he wasn’t prepared to see it happen right in front of him. 

You’ve changed. A year is more than enough to change someone, for better or for worse. But after seeing you, he’s not sure if time has changed you... or if he himself changed you. 

It was a couple of months ago where you were cured of the disease. You no longer threw up cherry blossom petals, and you were no longer experiencing the symptoms. The reason for your cure remains unknown. It could be that an unrequited lover has fallen in love with you or you have fallen in love with someone else who so happens to return your feelings. You’d like to think it was the latter. 

You don’t believe in the idea of unrequited lovers realizing their undying love for you, especially when it’s too late. That only happens in fairytale stories. 

“My date is looking beautiful tonight.” You hear Eunwoo say as he joins you out on the balcony. You giggle, rolling your eyes at him. 

Jungkook had just gotten married a couple of hours ago. You’re sure that he’s probably wasted on the dance floor with his wife scolding him for getting too drunk with their guests around. You feel a bit tipsy yourself after having a couple of glasses of wine. You decided to get some fresh air, not expecting your date, Eunwoo, to join you. You figured Eunwoo would be getting wasted with his newly-wedded friend. Guess not.

“I guess we’re the last ones who need to find fiances.” He sighs, sipping his wine. 

“Don’t even think about proposing to me, Eunwoo.” You mutter. “I don’t plan on getting diabetes because of all the sweets you’ll bake for me.”

He laughs. “Well, if I were to be honest with you, I did fall in love with you at some point.”

“You have?” You raise an eyebrow, surprised. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve dated you in a heartbeat.”

“You would?” He asks, surprised. You nod. “Wow, this truly tells me we’re not destined to be together. My timing was quite off. The Eunwoo a year ago should’ve just confessed.”

You smirk. “There’s no such thing as second chances, Eunwoo, so don’t even think about shooting your shot with me again. It’s not going to happen.”

“I liked you a lot, Y/N. But it looked like you were so in love with Jaehyun, so I didn’t bother. What’s even more funny was that I lied about having a girlfriend to see if you’d get jealous, but you barely reacted.” He reminisces, and the two of you share a good laugh together.

All this time, Eunwoo had proclaimed that he was officially off the market. Who knew that he did it just to earn some sort of jealous reaction from you? His timing was definitely off. 

You pat his shoulder. “You’ll find someone special. You just have to wait a bit longer.”

Eunwoo doesn’t reply and you look up at him questioningly. He’s looking at someone at the door. You follow his gaze and you let out a tiring sigh. Eunwoo glances at you and pats your back.

“I’ll head back inside, alright?” He insists. “Call me if you need anything.”

Eunwoo passes by Jaehyun, who’s standing at the door. The two of them glance at each other for a brief moment before Eunwoo tears his gaze. You look at Jaehyun for a brief moment before downing your glass of wine. You wince, the wine no longer tastes fruity and sweet, it tastes bitter. 

“Are you following me?” You ask him, turning away from him to look up at the night sky. It takes him a couple of seconds to stand a metre away from you. 

“I just wanted to talk to you.” Jaehyun says softly.

You scoff. “What is there to talk about?”

“Us.”

He sees you roll your eyes. “There was never an ‘us’. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Are you just going to ignore the fact that you were in love with me?” He dives straight to the point. “Are you still in love with me?”

Are you still in love with me? You chuckle bitterly, turning around to face him. You look over his shoulder to find a butler to fetch. You need another glass of wine. 

“Would my answer matter to you?” You argue back. “Last time I checked, you left me for her.”

“It was a mistake—”

“By the way,” you muster up a smile. “How are you guys? Is the relationship going well? I wouldn’t know, it’s been a while since you left.”

“We broke up.” He answers, and it comes out barely above a whisper. 

A butler finally comes around and hands you a glass of wine. You grab an extra glass for him. He doesn’t budge, looking quite astonished and speechless. You shrug your shoulders, placing it back on the butler’s tray.

“How sad,” you say. “Didn’t you tell me that she was the one?”

“Look, Y/N, I’m in love with—”

You close your eyes and cut him off with a sigh. “How long has it been? A year? Since you left me out there in the rain? I still remember that night. You must’ve forgotten because here you are, trying to befriend me again.”

Jaehyun remembers that night so vividly. He remembers how shattered he left you. But most of all, he remembers how guilty he felt for pushing you away. If he had the chance to turn back time, he’d do things much more differently.

“Well, I should get going. It was nice seeing you again, Jaehyun.” You fake a smile and he can see through it. You’re not happy, not the slightest bit. 

“Y/N—”

“And I hope this is the last time I’ll see you.”

Are you still in love with me? That’s a question you feared the most. It terrifies you because yes, you’re still in love with Jaehyun. You don’t see yourself being with anyone else. No matter how much he hurt you, you’re still in love with him. No matter how much he doesn’t deserve you, you’re still in love with him.

And that in of itself is more than enough to ruin your life.

Jaehyun is stubborn. 

He finds himself standing in front of your exhibition. This time, your exhibition is in a different city. He made the extra effort to drive to a different city in hopes of seeing you again. You may hate him for this, but he knew that he owed you an explanation. And if it was going to take many tries to get through to you, he would do it. He would do it in a heartbeat.

“One admission ticket for Y/N’s exhibition, please.” 

This time around, he didn’t show up empty-handed. He stopped by a flower shop a couple of blocks away from the gallery to pick up a fresh bouquet of—

“You saw the exhibit back in Seoul, but you’re here in Busan to see it again?” 

You’re standing in front of one of your photographs with your back facing him. He looks at the photograph, it’s a photo of Jungwoo and Clara’s shadows shown on the pavement. He can clearly make out that the photo was taken after their wedding for Clara’s shadows perfectly show a veil sitting on the crown of her head and the skirt of her dress. 

You turn around. “Cat bit your tongue?”

He hesitatingly approaches you, handing you the bouquet of flowers. You quirk an eyebrow. It’s a bouquet of violet lilacs, your favourite flower. 

“I know you hoped that our paths wouldn’t cross again but—”

“Thanks for the flowers.” You cut him off, gently grabbing the flowers from his hands. You take a quick sniff of the flowers and a smile threatens to form on your lips. But you’re quick to stop it. 

“Oh, hello there, stranger.”

The two of you spot Jungwoo, who’s entering the exhibition with his wife, Clara. Jungwoo feels a bit wary with Jaehyun being near you, and it’s evident with the lines on his forehead. Clara looks at you for reassurance and you bite your lip. 

“Long time, no see.” Jaehyun mumbles. 

“I was wondering where you ran off to after our wedding—ow!” Jungwoo’s sentence is cut short when Clara elbows him in the stomach. 

Clara fakes a smile. “Nice seeing you, Jaehyun. Of all places I’d expect myself to bump into you, I didn’t expect it to be at Y/N’s exhibit.”

Jaehyun barely utters a word. The atmosphere excuses nothing but awkwardness and tension. You clear your throat. 

“Did you drive all the way from Seoul to Busan?” Jungwoo asks him. 

He shakes his head. “I took the train.”

“Do you need a ride going home? We can drive you home, after you stroll around, of course.” Clara offers. 

“Clara,” you hiss through your teeth. 

“If you don’t mind,” Jaehyun says sheepishly. “I hope I’m not a bother—”

“Oh, you’re definitely not a bother.” You say sarcastically. As you let out a sigh, you hand Clara the bouquet of lilacs. “Excuse me, I have some visitors to speak to.”

Clara watches you as you walk away, leaving the three of them. “Y/N—” 

As the three of them are left behind, Clara’s shoulders slump in defeat and turns around to face the other two. She puts on her sunglasses and slings her bag over her shoulder.

“Want to grab a cup of coffee with us?” Clara asks Jaehyun.

He purses his lips into a tight line. “Sure.”

Jungwoo snorts. “Great. I could definitely use an espresso shot right now.”

The couple lead the way, leaving Jaehyun following closely behind. He looks over his shoulder to see you talking with one of the visitors. You have a warm smile on your face. It’s a smile he misses so much. He misses the times where you’d smile because of him. 

But now, he’s the reason for all your frowns. 

“I apologize for Y/N’s… behaviour.”

Jaehyun places down his cup of coffee onto the table. Seated across from him are Jungwoo and Clara. He waves it off. “You don’t need to. I kind of expected her to be like that, especially towards me.”

Jungwoo scoffs. “As you should.”

“Look,” Jaehyun begins. He wraps his hands around the warm mug of coffee. He avoids their gaze, but he feels the two of them burning holes through his head. “I regret everything. I deserve all of this. But all I want is for her to forgive me.”

“Are you sure that’s all you want from her?” Clara asks. “A second chance?”

“I think I have a better chance at being her best friend again. But a chance at being a lover? I’m not too sure.” Jaehyun confesses.

Jungwoo and Clara share a look. Clara takes a sip of her tea, completely surprised by the subtle confession. She clears her throat. “You’re in love with Y/N?”

Jaehyun nods his head. “I think I’ve always been in love with her.”

“Took you long to realize it.” Jungwoo smiles. “But I think you’re a bit too late.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “You really think I don’t have a chance?”

“Y/N gave up on love a long time ago.” Clara says truthfully. “But there may be a sliver of hope. That is, if you’re persistent enough to keep up with her. If you keep it up, she may give you a second chance. But once you give up, she’ll probably hate you forever.”

Jungwoo smirks. “You act like you don’t know Y/N, Jaehyun. I’m sure she’s still in love with you. All you have to do is show her that you’re in love with her. She can’t resist you.”

“You think so?”

“Y/N’s been your best friend for the longest time. It won’t take much to break down her walls again, especially if the one to tear down her walls is you.” Clara reassures him.

“Wait, when did you realize it?” Jungwoo asks. 

“Realize what?”

“That you’re in love with her.” Jungwoo mumbles.

“Seven months ago? I was on the search for her seven months ago.” Jaehyun replies while scratching the back of his head. 

Jungwoo looks at his wife. She looks back at him and he watches as the gears start to turn in her head. It’s not long until she finally figures it out. Jaehyun stares at the two of them communicate with their eyes.

Clara looks at Jaehyun. “You may have a huge chance, Jaehyun.”

Seven months. 

When Jaehyun started to fall in love with you seven months ago, you had just found out that you had been completely cured of the disease. 

“Text us when you get home!”

Jaehyun waves at Jungwoo and Clara, who dropped him off at a bus stop near his home. In a rush, they were only able to drop Jaehyun off at a bus stop because they had to pick up their daughter from the babysitter. He watches their car get smaller and smaller as it travels farther down the road. He looks up at the sky, and a raindrop falls onto his cheek. Suddenly, the raindrops start to fall more frequently. He clicks his tongue.

“I should make a run for it,” he says to himself, beginning to walk down the sidewalk.

It starts to rain. He starts jogging down the sidewalk when the rain gets heavier and heavier. But he’s completely out of shape and finds himself opting to walk in the heavy rain instead. His clothes are soaking wet, and all the people walking past him don’t bother offering an umbrella. As soon as he spots a convenience store, he hears a loud honk. He glances to his left to see an unfamiliar car parked by the curb. 

The window rolls down to reveal you. You look at him with concern.

“Get in. I’ll drive you home.” You insist.

“I’ll be fine, I don’t want to be a bother—”

“Just get in or else I’m leaving you here.” You cut him off. “Take it or leave it.”

He hesitatingly walks to your car and hops into the passenger’s seat. You drive off. The ride is silent, and he distracts himself from the lit-up signs and billboards. You remember where he lives. He would have expected you to completely shut him out of your life, where you would even forget his address. But you remembered.

“How could you not have an umbrella on you? Did you not hear the forecast today?”

He looks away from the window. You’re focused on the road. Your expression remains the same; completely blank. He doesn’t say anything.

“Look at you, you’re completely wet.” You mutter to yourself. A smile threatens to spread across his lips. You care. You care about him, even if it was just a slight bit. “Great. Now my car seat is completely wet too. So much for maintaining a clean car.”

He probably looks like a fool for smiling at you. You tear your gaze away from the road when you reach a red stoplight. When you look at him, he quickly looks away. You can feel your heart ramming in your chest. 

“Thanks for driving me home.” He says in advance. 

The stoplight turns green. You step on the gas, mumbling, “It’s nothing.”

It’s a complete lie. You decided to visit your old place, maybe drop by the nearby convenience store to eat a nice hot, steaming cup of ramen. But you didn’t expect to park by the curb, only to find Jaehyun ready to walk inside after walking in the heavy rain. The sight of Jaehyun’s wet hair and clothes made you feel bad. 

As you park your car, you glance at Jaehyun who’s fallen asleep. He shivers in his sleep and it immediately makes you check his temperature. Surely enough, Jaehyun has a slight fever that will probably last the entire night after getting soaked by the rain. You sigh, turning off the engine of your car.

“Jaehyun.” You nudge him awake. He rubs his eyes and you notice how he’s beginning to shiver. “Give me the keys to your house.”

“Huh—”

“You have a slight fever.”

“I can take care of it myself, don’t worry—”

“Knowing you, you are incapable of looking after yourself. Hand me the keys.” You extend your open hand out to him and he fishes his keys in his pocket. “Let’s head inside.”

As you support Jaehyun on the walk inside, you notice how his body leans comfortably onto your side. He leans in closer to your warmth. As you jam his keys into the lock, you swing the door open for the both of you. 

“Geez, you’re heavy.” You say with a grunt. You reach up to feel his forehead and indeed, his fever is getting worse. “Let’s get you to your bed.”

Thankfully enough, he’s brought to his bed in one piece. You dust your hands off, walking into his bathroom to prepare a damp cloth for his forehead. Jaehyun’s teeth clatter as he shivers on his bed. Through hooded eyes, he sees you wringing a cloth in his bathroom. You place the cloth along with a bowl of water on top of his bedside table and grab a pair of pajamas from his drawers. 

“Could you do me one favour and change into these? I’ll be outside. Call me when you’re done changing.”

And so you find yourself standing outside of his bedroom. Your eyes linger across his living room until they stop at one of the walls. The wall is decorated with a collection of Polaroid pictures. Curiosity gets the best of you and you get closer to the Polaroid wall to get a better look at the pictures. 

The first picture at the top left of the wall is a picture of Jaehyun and Jungwoo. They’re holding up a peace sign. It’s the first Polaroid picture Jaehyun took with the Polaroid camera you gifted him for his birthday. As your eyes scan the pictures from left to right, you start to notice how they’re all pictures of.. you. 

You shake your head, shrugging off your thoughts. You turn your back against the wall, but his coffee table grabs your attention. On his coffee table, there’s a couple of advertisement flyers. They’re flyers of your photography exhibit. 

“This can’t be,” you whisper to yourself. 

Your feet drag you to his kitchen. On his fridge, you spot a couple of notes you’ve written and left for him. From reminders to small words of encouragement, your handwriting is found all over the notes. It’s noticeable how old the notes are, for some of the adhesive is wearing out, causing the corners of the sticky-note to peel off. 

Everywhere in his home, Jaehyun has a reminder of you. Even after a year and a half, he never once pushed you out of his life. But he offered to walk out of yours himself.

But why did he hurt you? Why did he leave you? Why did it take him one year?

Your eyes well up with tears. Suddenly, you hear Jaehyun open the door and call out your name. You turn your back against him to quickly wipe your tears. 

“Coming.” You mumble. You sniff softly, gathering yourself together. 

And right before you enter Jaehyun’s bedroom, you look back at the Polaroid wall one last time. 

While you thought Jaehyun walked out of your life for good, you somehow remained in his life through memories.  

The cafe is busy with university students rushing in and out with their caffeine boost. You almost bump into one. Seated at a table for two, your eyes meet Lina. She flashes you a small smile, sending you a wave. The beat of your heart speeds up out of nervousness. 

“I didn’t think you would come.”

You bite your lip. “Me either.”

“Look—”

“You’re getting married?” You cut her off. She avoids your gaze, slowly nodding her head. You take out the invitation she had mailed to you. You read the names on the invitation. “Does Jaehyun know?”

“He knows—”

“And how does he feel about it?” You question. “I hope you didn’t hurt his feelings. He was very much in love with you, Lina—”

“Jaehyun and I dated for four months, Y/N.” She tells you the truth and you look at her confusedly. “We broke up because of you.”

“W-What?” You stutter. 

“Two months into the relationship, I started to notice how important you are to him. Everything we did reminded him of you. I was starting to question whether he was in love with me or not because all he did was talk about you.” She explains. “Y/N this, Y/N that. But I brushed it off, and I let it drag on for another two months.”

“He told me that you were the one,” you shake your head in disbelief. “We were all sure that the two of you would end up together—”

“Jaehyun’s in love with you.” She gets straight to the point. “You deserve him. He deserves you. I mean, after you got my invitation, the first person that came to your mind was not you, but Jaehyun. I hope you’re still in love with him, Y/N.”

She was right. After you received the invitation, the first person you thought of was Jaehyun. You wondered if he was heartbroken by the news of her engagement. You wondered if he was taking it easy, if he was doing alright. 

“I hope you can come to my wedding, Y/N.” She smiles. “Although we’re on awkward terms, it would be nice to have you attend. I still consider you as someone I’d like to be friends with.”

“I’ll think about it,” you purse your lips into a line. “Thank you for even thinking about inviting me.”

“I hope you’ll get the closure you need.”

Jungwoo pulls up to the venue, parking his car and turning off the engine. He’s never felt so nervous for a best friend. He looks at you through his rearview mirror. You’re anxious. There are strangers dressed up in suits and dresses, all huddled up in groups outside of the venue. They’re most likely long-time friends of Lina and her soon-to-be husband. 

“Are you sure you will be alright on your own?” You tear your gaze from a couple who are taking a selfie. 

You smile. “I’ll be alright. If anything, I’ll call you.”

You feel awkward standing by yourself. Jungwoo had already left you after giving you one last peptalk. You decide to head inside the venue to wait for the couple to arrive. The venue is beautiful. Their wedding theme so happens to be a backyard wedding, making their guests feel more comfortable. You can tell that they wanted a more home-y concept for their wedding. It’s shown through the white chairs scattered across the grass, the rose petals spread across the aisles, and the right amount of candles lit around the perimeter. 

“It’s beautiful, huh?” 

Jaehyun shoves his hands inside his pockets and looks around the venue. You grow confused, turning around to see him standing a couple of metres away. 

“You were invited too?” You ask and he nods his head.

He chuckles. “I actually don’t know anyone here except you.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see him stand next to you. He has the sudden urge to hold your hand, but he knows that it wouldn’t be a good idea to do. You’re afraid that he can hear your heart that’s beating tremendously loud and fast. Little did you know, the two of you are standing in the middle of the aisle that leads up to the front, where the groom and bride are to be wedded. Oh, how Jaehyun wishes that he’d be standing at the front to watch you walk down the aisle for him.

“I don’t know anyone here except you,” you say. 

He glances at you. “Can we at least be friends just for today? I don’t think I’ll be able to handle being on my own.”

You snort. “Last time I checked, you told me to stay away from you. Now you’re asking me to be friends with you for a day?”

“I’m just taking my chances.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Besides, I regret everything I said to you that night.”

“Rightfully so,” you mumble. You face him. “Fine. But once this day is over, I want you to do one thing for me.”

“Sure.”

You fold your arms. “Stay away from me. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

He stares at you for a brief moment. You look beautiful. You’re wearing a long lavender purple dress that stops just above your ankles. It’s an off-shoulder dress, and you style it up by wearing stacked gold necklaces. 

He extends his hand out for you to seal the deal.

“Deal.”

The wedding was everything you expected it to be. Lina and her husband have been best friends since they were in diapers, and it was a given that they would end up together. It made you wonder how your life would’ve been different if Jaehyun was in love with you and if he returned the same feelings you have for him. 

You wish the night would be over, where you could lay down on your bed and hibernate for a couple of months. You’re not into social interaction, especially with people you barely know. It was a shame that you and Jaehyun were assigned to sit at a table with complete strangers. At this point, you’re depending on Jaehyun to spice up your night by keeping you company.

“Y/N,” he nudges you as the lights in the hall start to dim. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“It’s our favourite song.” He smiles. 

You listen carefully and indeed, it is your favourite song. A smile threatens to spread across your lips. As Daniel Caesar’s ‘Best Part’ starts to play, you feel yourself go back to prom night. You had been stood up by your date and Jaehyun found you sitting outside of the venue all alone. He had offered to be your date for the last couple of hours of prom night. A smile forms on your lips when you remember Jaehyun playing this song and offering to dance with you.

“Shall we dance?”

You’re brought back to reality. You glance at him. He looks back at you with a look you can’t read. His eyes are trying to tell you something, but you can’t make out what he wants to tell you. 

“Will it be good for me?” 

“We won’t know until we try.” 

And so you both try. On the dance floor with many other couples, Jaehyun grabs your hand and your fingers interlock. Your hands fit perfectly together. He places his hands on your waist and you carefully place yours on his shoulders. He’s standing so close to you, you could feel his hot breath hit your skin. 

“I don’t remember if I told you how beautiful you look,” he says softly.

You blink. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Jaehyun’s eyes trail down to your plump lips. You look away from him. The song is so intimate and holds a memory that you wish to forget. As the song comes to an end, your eyes meet Jaehyun’s one last time. Before you could process it, he’s slowly leaning in. His lips brush yours and you’re so close to getting carried away by pulling him closer. 

But you catch yourself right on time. Before the kiss gets passionate, you pull away by pushing his chest. He looks completely surprised. You touch your lips, shaking your head.

“This is wrong—”

“Y/N—”

“Stay away from me.” You warn him. “Stay right there. Don’t follow me.”

Out of shock, you barge out of the reception venue. Your eyes are tearing up. You told yourself that you’re never going to fall in love again. You gave up on love a long time ago, but all it takes is one look from him and you’re doomed—

“Y/N.”

You slowly look over your shoulder to see Jaehyun standing at the door, out of breath. He had chased you. 

“This was a bad idea. I knew it was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have—”

“Y/N, I’m in love with you.” He confesses. You turn your back towards him. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to tell you that. Seven months, Y/N. Seven months of—”

“Those pictures of us in your living room. Why do you still have them?” 

“Because I can’t bring myself to throwing them out. They’re precious memories, Y/N. I kept them because it’s the only thing I have left that reminds me of you.” He explains.

Tears start streaming down your cheeks and you let out a scoff as you wipe them away. “Why am I like this around you? I hate being like this. Whenever it comes to you, I find himself going back to you when I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be in love with you—”

“I—”

“Jaehyun, you’ve had six relationships. You endured your sickness for six relationships and you didn’t fight it alone because I was there. I was there because I chose to stay.” You will yourself to turn around and look at him. He looks broken. “But when the tables turn and I fall in love for the first time, when I need you the most, you leave me. In fact, you left me for her.”

“You have every right to hate me,” he whispers.

“I was fighting all alone.” You bite your quivering lip. “Jungwoo got married. Jungkook got married. Eunwoo is planning on proposing to his girlfriend. And me? I’m still fighting on my own. I’m still in love with you when I clearly shouldn’t be.”

“Please, Y/N—”

“I’m tired of being in love with you.” He looks at you with hopeless eyes. “If you really love me, you would do me a favour and leave me alone. Isn’t that what you told me to do in the first place? Leave you alone?”

Jaehyun doesn’t know what to say. You look exactly how you looked that night he left you. You’re still broken. You’re still not over him. 

“Y/N—”

“You sealed the deal earlier, right? When I told you that I hope I’ll never see you again, I meant it. I don’t want to ever see you again. It’ll be the best for me.”

He’s completely speechless and you take it as your cue to leave when Jungwoo pulls up in the parking lot. Jungwoo looks concerned from his seat in the car. Just as you’re about to leave, Jaehyun says your name one last time. You look at him over your shoulder. There are tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

He’s selfish. 

“Fine.” You mutter. “Have it your way.”

“If fate thinks we’re destined to be together, I hope you’ll know where to find me.”

“Stop skipping your meals and eat.”

It’s been weeks since Lina’s wedding. It’s been weeks since you last saw Jaehyun standing in front of you, broken and hopeless. You haven’t been doing great. In fact, you’ve been feeling horrible. You feel like your heart has been run over ten times and back. You’re not sure what to feel, but Jaehyun’s voice confessing his love for you echoes through your head every now and then. 

You toss a tissue into the trash can. “Jungwoo, shouldn’t you be picking up your daughter from the babysitter?”

“I asked if she could stay a bit more. I can’t just leave you here looking like this, Clara will kill me if she finds out.” Jungwoo frowns. “Could you please just take care of yourself?”

“I’m not in the mood to eat, if that’s what you were wondering.”

“Stop being stubborn.” Jungwoo says sternly.

He looks around your room and his eyes fall upon a framed picture sitting on your bedside table. He squints his eyes to get a clearer view of the picture. It’s a picture of you and Jaehyun from prom night. He has his arm thrown over your shoulder. The two of you are standing close to each other, pulling off your funniest face. 

“Hey,” he says, nodding his head at the picture. “You still have that? You kept it all this time?”

You follow his gaze and it lands on the picture of you and Jaehyun. “Oh, I forgot to throw it out—”

“Don’t even try to lie. I know you can’t bring yourself to throwing it out.” Jungwoo interrupts you.

“Stop reminding me of how deeply in love I am with Jaehyun when I shouldn’t be.” You plead. “I didn’t ask to be reminded of him—”

“Why are you stopping yourself from wanting what your heart wants?” 

You fall silent.

“Your heart wants Jaehyun. You can’t change your heart’s mind because your heart has no mind.” Jungwoo explains.

“You have a point. But still,” you shake your head. “I am not going to give up on a year’s worth of moving on.”

“But you never truly moved on if you’re still in love with him, Y/N. It’s been a year and you’re still in love with him. Besides, he’s in love with you. Shouldn’t you just give him a second chance?

“No.”

“God, you’re so stubborn.” Jungwoo sighs. 

“He’s the reason for those stupid cherry blossoms and that stupid disease—”

“Y/N, there’s something Clara and I wanted to tell you in relation to that.” Jungwoo says and looks like he’s just realized something. “When we took Jaehyun out for a cup of coffee—”

“I don’t want to hear it—”

“Just listen!” He exclaims as you cover your ears with your hands. You can still hear him, unfortunately. “He told us that he realized his feelings for you seven months ago.”

“So?” You raise an eyebrow.

His shoulders slump. “Didn’t you get cured of the disease seven months—”

“Wait.” You cut him off. Your hands slowly uncover your ears. “What did he say?”

“Jaehyun told us that he realized his feelings for you seven months ago.” Jungwoo repeats himself and he sees the gears start to turn in your head. “Seven months ago, Y/N. Didn’t you get cured of the disease—”

“Seven months ago.” You finish it for him. “Holy shit.”

The first possible cure to your disease is if you fall in love with someone else, who happens to return the same feelings. That cure rules out because you’ve never fallen in love after Jaehyun. 

The second possible cure to your disease is by surgically removing the petals itself. You decided not to get the procedure done because your feelings would be compromised and there was a chance that you would never fall in love again.

The third and last cure to your disease is if your unrequited lover happens to fall in love with you, reversing the unrequited love. 

Jaehyun fell in love with you seven months ago. At the same time, you were cured of the disease.

Holy shit.

“You said you were picking up your daughter, right?” You say, in complete shock. “Start your car. I need you to drive me somewhere.”

As you and Jungwoo hop into the car, there’s only one person you have in mind. It’s Jaehyun. As Jungwoo drives down the road, you look out the window. Your first place to find Jaehyun is your exhibition. He’s always been there just to look for you. 

Jungwoo stares at the cherry blossoms lined up on the sidewalk. “The cherry blossoms bloomed beautifully, huh?”

You nod your head. “Yeah, focus on your driving.”

Jungwoo chuckles. 

He parks in front of the exhibition and you don’t hesitate on getting out of the car. The security guard greets you and you rush into the exhibition. Your eyes scan the room. He’s not in sight. You sigh, running your hands through your hair.

“If fate thinks we’re destined to be together, I hope you’ll know where to find me.”

You finally realize it.

“God, why do you have to be so complicated, Jaehyun?”

Jungwoo finds you rushing out of the exhibition. You’re starting to jog down the sidewalk and he looks at you confusedly. He hops out of the car and calls out your name.

“Y/N! Where are you going?”

You stop in your tracks, turning around. “I think I know where he is. Thanks for the ride!”

Jungwoo smiles. “You’ll figure it out.”

You look up at the cherry blossom trees. There are petals slowly falling down. You glance down at your phone and coincidentally enough, it’s May 2nd. You continue to jog down the sidewalk, turning a left and a right. Finding Jaehyun is harder than you thought, especially when there are couples scattered down the strip of the road. 

Jaehyun steps out of the cafe with an iced americano in his hand. He looks up at the cherry blossom trees and a smile starts to form on his lips. It’s a beautiful day, he thinks to himself. But it’ll be much more beautiful if he sees you—

“Y/N?” He spots you jogging down the sidewalk across the street. 

You’re stopping at each shop and cafe to look through the window. You’re checking to see if Jaehyun is in any of the shops. Unknowingly, Jaehyun is crossing the street to chase after you. You’re walking way too fast, Jaehyun notes. You’re crossing the road that’s slowly coming to an end. You’re ready to give up at this point. 

As you reach the end of the road, you let out a sigh of defeat. You hunch over, trying to catch your breath. 

“Y/N?” You hear a voice.

You straighten up your posture, turning around to see Jaehyun standing behind you. He’s completely out of breath and he lets out a breathless laugh. You look at him with doe-eyes.

“You walk so fast, I was hoping you’d slow down—oof! Oh, alright.” He says as you crush him in a huge hug. 

You pull away from the hug to whack his arm. “Why were you so vague with your hint? I spent a whole ass hour trying to look for you—”

“You were looking for me?” He blushes. 

“Yeah,” you mumble. “Sorry, I just—”

“The cherry blossoms bloomed perfectly, don’t you think?” He cuts you off, gesturing towards the tree hovering over the both of you. 

“Yeah, it did.” You say softly, scratching the back of your neck. Why do you suddenly feel so nervous around him? “It was nice seeing you, I should probably get going—”

“You’re leaving already?” 

You slowly nod your head. “I—I just wanted to say hi. That’s all. I’ll see you around, Jaehyun.”

You’re too nervous to tell him. You feel like you’ll get rejected again. As you turn around, you feel his hand grab your wrist, pulling you back. You look up at him with hopeful eyes.

“You’re leaving right after you found me?” He asks. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jaehyun.” You say softly. 

“You’re not going to tell me that you’re still in love with me?” He says as he looks into your eyes. 

His eyes are easier to read now. It’s all crystal clear. It’s laid out perfectly in front of you.

“I’m still in love with you,” you whisper. 

“I’m in love with you,” he confesses. “Always have.”

His face brightens up. He never thought that he’d hear it from you. He feels like the luckiest man on Earth. Fate surely thinks the two of you are destined to be together, for it brought you both together at the perfect time and place the heart only knows. 

“So, when do you want to get married?”

“Slow your horses, Jaehyun.”

He lets out endearing laughter.

He’s surely going to marry you one day.

author’s note. this took so long to finish, i am so sorry for the long wait. i hope you guys enjoyed this! i think i’m going to take a few days off because writing this huge fic of a monster made me want to pull my hair out. again, i hope you guys enjoyed this!

send me feedback! comments? suggestions? let me know!

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[arclundarchivist]

Home, Again.

(Spoilers from Campaign 2 Episode 141, it has been a lovely ride, and I will admit, this mostly going to be me getting a bit into my own personal fantasy, but I hope it is enjoyed.)

Caleb, a little grayer in his hair, stands on the beach staring out into the ocean, a wide smile on his face as he turns and sees several small forms racing about, clashing fake swords, delving into the water cautiously, or just doing what children are want to do. Veth's little "camp" had picked up steam, numerous children from across the breadth of Nicodranus coming to learn how to be, well, how to play at being adventurers. He'd managed to take a bit of time off from the academy, nervous still about the prospect but...he'd been drawn away for an excellent reason.

His family.

Nine years had passed since their battle in Cognouza. Nine years since they had become the unsung, though oft whispered. heroes of all of Exandria.

He'd seen them all from time to time across the years, coming together for birthdays and moments of joy and surprise, but now, was a time for true celebration.

He turns and spots Veth and Yeza, standing shoulder to shoulder nearby, watching the waves roll in, hunting perhaps like he was, for the behemoth that was the Nine Heroez to pull into port. On Veth's hip is a little girl, with a mane of curled, wild hair much like her father with a deeper skin tone like her mother: Molly.

Veth turns and looks up at him, "Do you seem anything?"

"Not yet, but they'll be here. I can't imagine they'd miss this for the world." Caleb responds, squeezing her shoulder before reaching down, letting the gently cooing Molly take his finger and squeeze.

He turns and looks back, spotting several other figures arrayed across the beach that he had reached out to in the planning of this event.

Shakaste is perched on a rock, telling a soothing story to an enraptured crowd of kids, which included Luc, and to his amusement Twiggy, who had arrived at the party seemingly out of the blue.

Running towards him, chased by her youngest adoptive siblings is Kiri. Veth invited her family to partake of Nicodranus and allow the kids a bit of fun during the summer months.

Kiri skids to a halt kicking up sand, standing almost to his chest now, several makeshift bandoleers and her collection of tinkered baubles resting on her chest and along her belt. She smiles up at him widely, chirping excitedly.

"Come on! Beau, Yasha! She's probably a good egg!" Kiri warbles, mimicking several voices she'd heard, tugging on his and Veth's hands.

Laughing, Veth passes Molly to her husband, and the pair allow Kiri to drag them all the way to the edge of the beach, where Beau and Yasha are approaching. They both look a bit older but more at peace, Yasha dressed in dark but less severe clothing, hints of Dynasty garb on the both of them. He also notices two figures walking a step behind them, looking a bit shy.

"I missed you!" Kiri crows, darting for the pair and hugging tight to their legs.

"Hey, Kiri," Beau says with a soft smile.

"Hello, Little Bird," Yasha says, giving Kiri a head scritch.

She coos cheerfully before darting back up onto her perch and scanning for signs of the others.

Beau looks at Caleb and wraps him in a tight hug, "Hey, Professor."

"Expositor," Caleb mutters, wrapping his arms around her and then doing the same to Yasha, who practically picks him up off his feet.

Beau kneels and hugs Veth, whispering, "Chaos Crew!"

"Almost." Veth states, "Hopefully, she'll be here soon."

Caleb looks past his dear friends and blinks in surprise as he spots Beauregard's Mother and younger brother TJ.

"Oh, uh, hello, thank you for coming." Caleb mutters, rubbing the back of his head, "I don't know if you remember me. I'm Caleb Widoghast."

Veth narrows her eyes slightly at Beau's mother: "Veth Brenatto."

"Clara, I do remember you," she remarks, nodding to them both briefly.

"Good, because I-" Veth begins only for Beau to place a hand on her shoulder.

"Down, Veth," Beau remarks, earning a chuckle from Yasha.

"Fine," she remarks, still giving Beau's mother a bit of a stink eye.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. There is some food and drink nearby, and blankets to spread out as you wish," Caleb states.

"Thank you," Clara says, turning to leave the four of them while TJ hangs back next to his sister, looking up at her uncertainly.

"Go have fun." Beau says, pointing to Luc and Kiri, "Those are the other kids I was telling you about, just don't get into too much trouble, okay?"

TJ gives her a shy grin, "No promises."

And then runs off, Caleb noticing the small sticks that he wears across his back.

"A chip off the old block, eh?" Caleb asks as Beau throws an arm around him.

"Not exactly, way more shy!" Beau states, looping her arm around Yasha's as Veth grabs his hand, "Four of the Nine, any words on the others?"

"Not yet, but they'll come," Caleb says.

"Good, I brought you all flowers from our garden." Yasha states, holding up a new book, filled to the brim with dried flowers, "You both look very good."

Veth smiles: "I'm with my family, and even more are on the way; I'm wonderful."

Caleb nods: "It will be good to see everyone again."

"Speaking of everyone," Beau states, unlooping her arms from her partner and friend, "Yo, Shakaste! I think it's past time you and I compared notes on some things."

Shakaste turns from his story to Luc and the other kids, the former getting dragged away by Kiri for a conversation with TJ, while Twiggy looks around him and her face widens in a deep grin.

"I mean, I agree, but I thought this was gonna be a day of fun, not work?" Shakaste remarks with a knowing smirk.

"I can do both," Beau says with a shrug of her shoulders as she walks towards them.

"I have notes too!" Twiggy cries, darting towards Beau and beginning to ramble, while Yasha turns and walks towards Yeza, the pair beginning a softer conversation as Yasha, ever so gently gives her hand out for Molly to play with.

Caleb and Veth end up sitting shoulder to shoulder on the beach, waiting and watching as their friends and number of children mill about them and are deep in conversation, when the sound of a firework going off draws all of their attention.

There is a collective jump amongst the party, the more martial figures immediately going on the defensive, with Yasha pushing Yeza behind her only for it to be quickly revealed to be Kiri once more, tearing away from Luc and TJ, now shouting.

"Jester! Jester! I missed you!"

Not a moment later, Twiggy is peeling off as well, with Veth, Caleb, Beau, and Yasha at a more sedentary step behind as approaching them arm in arm is Fjord and Jester, wide smiles on their face, Nugget loping ahead of them and teleport tackling Luc, who falls with a laugh as the dog begins licking his face.

Behind them, walking arm and arm is The Gentleman and Marion, followed by Orly and Vandren, and next to them, to Caleb's surprise, is Caliana.

"Kiri!" Jester cries out, sliding to her knees and wrapping the young Kenku in the tightest hug and spinning her about, revealing the swaddled bundle on her back which giggles in surprise at the momentum.

"And Twiggy!" Jester cries, drawing the gnome into a tight hug as well before ping-ponging to her friend with deep, tearful hugs and cheek kisses, going from Veth to Yasha, to Beau, and then to Caleb.

"Veth, so, about the Detective Agency...I'm sorry that I've been so busy...but." Jester began as she hugs her.

"Don't worry, Jessie, I'm glad you're here," Veth says, hugging her tightly.

"Yasha, my god, you look so beautiful! I missed you so much!" Jester cries, running her fingers through flower-filled hair.

"Thank you, Jester, I missed you too." Yasha states with a soft smile as she looks down over Jester's shoulder into the teal face of a small Tiefling toddler, the hint of a tusk coming in on the left-hand side, "And this little joy."

She tickles the bottom of his chin, eliciting a laugh, a smile widening on her face: "Hi, Charlie."

"Beau!" Jester cries, pulling her into a bone-cracking hug.

"Hey, Cutie." Beau returns, hugging her back and patting her cheek.

Jester giggles and then turns to hug Caleb, a soft but deep embrace, "You look very happy, Caleb."

Caleb whispers back, "I am happy. So very, very happy."

Fjord walks up next, looking down at Veth: "Veth."

Veth looks up at him with narrowed eyes, "Fjord."

They stare at each other for a moment before wrapping each other in a hug, "You look good, Fjord."

"I feel it." he returns, "And so do you."

Yasha and Fjord clap hands together with a smile while Beau comes in on the other side and punches him playfully on the shoulder.

"You know neither of those hurt as much as they used to." Fjord states with a grin.

"Good, where's Kingsley?" Yasha asks.

"Well wouldn't you know it...the tricky bastard went off and made himself into a pirate." Fjord said with a laugh, "I...I don't know if he'll be here."

Yasha looks down a bit crestfallen, "Oh."

"This does mean, though, that I need my old first mate back if she has an inkling to come to sea, just for a bit." Fjord said with a slight smile, looking to Beau.

Beau smiles and shares a look at Yasha, who shrugs but smiles softly. "Maybe, maybe."

"Nice to see you again, Caleb," Fjord says, pulling him into a hug.

"Nice to see you too, Fjord," Caleb says.

"Gangs almost all here; it's been quite a while, hasn't it," Fjord says.

"It has." Caleb agrees as he watches Jester place her son into the arms of her mother and then scoops up Kiri and twirls around with a laugh.

"Mighty fine to see all of you again, ain't that right, Miss," Orly says, nodding to each of them and nudging Caliana.

"OH! Yes, of course. Hello, again, Mr. Caleb, Beau, Yasha," Caliana states, with a nervous bow before looking at Veth and opening her mouth a bit awkwardly.

"It's Veth; good to see you again, Miss." Veth says with a smile, "How have you been?"

"Well, I..." Caliana begins, blushing slightly, only for Jester to spin by interrupting.

"We found her when we stopped her in Port Demali! Kingsley did actually, and then we caught up, and Fjord managed to convince her to join our crew, and she has been very helpful with the magic things at times like you were Caleb, and sometimes she scares the living daylights out of people that try and steal from us!"

Calianna blushes deeper, "I don't mean to."

"She's a good crewmate, and a good friend, speaking of which." Fjord says, turning to the older man beside him, "Vandren, this is my family, not everyone, but most."

Vandren gives them all a once over, "Eclectic group. Makes sense. Nice to meet you. Any drink to be found?"

"Yes, right over there," Caleb says, pointing towards a large picnic table.

"Right, Orly, let's get to it," Vandren says, clapping Fjord on the shoulder and heading over, followed by The Gentleman, who gives each of them a respectful nod, kissing his daughter on the cheek as he passes.

Marion smiles at them all, "I'm glad to see you all healthy and hale. You've all had quite the journey."

The assembled Nein shared a look, "That we have."

Jester smirks and then speaks up, "Speaking of which..."

She enters into a tirade of her and Fjord's most recent adventurer's interrupted at times by Fjord and a more tentative Caliana, while the others listen, sitting down as the sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, Veth's students heading for home, leaving the children adjoined to the party alone to chase each other, play fight, and ride about on Nugget. Charlie spends much of the time in his Mother or Father's lap, occasionally being passed to Yasha, who at one point ends up holding him and Molly in a moment of what Caleb could only describe as awed bliss, as their respective parents got drawn away by something.

A while later, Luc turns to trying to entertain them, showing off the few cantrips he'd learned to the other kids, including the assembled Shusters, and TJ. Kiri makes a game of picking at him after a bit.

As he begins talking about how strong he will be, Kiri walks up and pokes her beak directly into his ear.

"Kiri! Don't embarrass me in front of my apprentices!" he cries with a bit of a blush as Kiri made a joking kissing sound, gesturing to Molly and Charlie who stared at the pair in the muddled, joyful confusion that is Toddlerhood as they rest on their respective parent's laps.

"I don't think a little peck is all that embarrassing." a low voice states, drawing the assembled Nein's attention to a tall figure, his staff glowing a low pink, a wide smile on his face as Caduceus Clay approaches with several others in tow.

"Sorry, I'm late," Cad says, not even pausing as an elated Luc races for him and jumps into his arms, "I had a few friends to pick up."

Calliope waves, "I'm just his tagalong."

Behind her stands Nila and her son, Keg, quickly dashing out a cigarette and looking more than a little awkward, with Reani at her shoulder.

"Hello again," Nila states with a soft smile as the other curious youngsters readily approach her son.

"Long time no see, heard y'all did some really good work." Keg states with a smirk, sharing a look with Beau, walking over, and hugging Veth.

Reani darts over to Jester, wrapping her in a hug, then several of the others, cooing over the babies for a second before tackle-hugging Beau and then Caleb.

"Hey, Reani," Beau says, looking a little awkward but still happy to see her.

"Hey guys, also thank you, Caleb, for sending him my way."

"Him?" Caleb queries, a bit confused.

Clay walks up, hugging Fjord deeply, and then Jester and Yasha: "God, it's good to see you all again, but as I said, I had some friends to pick up."

And out of the shadows, melting into view with a soft yet nervous smile on his face, comes Essek Theylas.

"Hello everyone." he states, eliciting a few gasps and a tackle hug from Jester, "And let's just say Reani, and I have been working on...seeing all the colors and shades as it were."

He gives Beau a pointed nod.

Reani smiles, "He's a sweetheart."

Caleb gets to his feet, walking over to Essek with a cautious smile, "Welcome back to the Mighty Nein."

"Glad to be back...if just for a little while, it will be good, to..." he pauses, looking deeply into Caleb's eyes, "Take a bit more time with you."

As Jester lets him go, Essek slowly glides towards Caleb, and he feels their fingers intertwine, a soft smile growing on both their faces.

He turns and notices a few smirking faces amongst his friends, while the adjoining members are beginning to shuffle about and begin conversing, Reani and Twiggy hitting it off like an unending wildfire, while Keg mills about before choosing to sidle up to Caliana and begin asking her questions, Shakaste sits down next to Caduceus and begins to query him on how everything is going in his neck of the woods.

Fjord looks around at his family as several fires roar up around them. TJ, Kiri, Luc, the Schusters, and Asar are sitting around their own cooking marshmallows, watched by Clara, who has found herself the subject of affection for Nugget, his large head now splaying across her lap. Jester is sitting between Fjord and her Mother, Charlie asleep on her lap, head on her mother's shoulder, with her and Fjord holding hands. Beau is leaning against Yasha, next to Yeza, holding Molly while Veth sat between him and Caleb, with Esseek on his other side, their fingers just the faintest bit intertwined. A bit back from the fire, behind Fjord and Jester, Nila, Cad, and his sister are leaning forward, Cad's hand resting on Fjord's shoulder. Calianna sits next to Fjord, while Reani and Twiggy sit across the fire from Yasha and Beau. Vandren, The Gentleman, and Keg are deep in conversation at the nearby picnic table while Shakaste and Orly are seated between the Nein's fire and the kids, the former humming along as the latter plays some softer music.

"Gangs all here finally." Fjord remarks, "And on a beautiful night too."

"Well...almost all of them are here," Yasha states, somewhat sadly.

"No, everyone." a familiar voice states, as coming across the sands is Kingsley Tealeaf, with Marius in tow.

"Hi there, Angel, there was no way I was missing this party, especially since Joybuzzer reminded me every day about it," Kingsley states, kissing the top of Yasha's head as he walks by, doing the same to Jester and then clapping Fjord on the back and gently hugging Caliana as she scoots over.

"You too?" Essek asks with a knowing smile.

"So it would seem." Kingsley returns as Marius walks by, headed for Orly.

"Kill anyone yet?" Fjord calls out after him.

"No, Captain." Marius returns with a sheepish grin.

"Pity, good to see you still breathing, Lepual." Fjord states with a smirk.

"Likewise, Captain," Marius states, falling into a seat beside Orly.

Keg turns at the arrival of the newest figure and does a triple take before walking over and clunking to the ground next to Reani and staring at him.

"You...are making me extremely uncomfortable," Kingsley states with a smirk.

"Yeah...sorry, this is a little weird, honestly." as she turns to Beau, Veth, and Caleb, and mouthed, "Why didn't you warn me?!"

Beau blinks, "Sorry."

Kingsley chuckles, "Right, this is awkward, but I've got time to catch up with whatever that is and the rest of y'alls stories in a moment. Cause I need a fucking drink!"

He crows that with a laugh and a second later, he is mimicked by a surprised Kiri which is then picked up by Luc, who instead starts yelling: "Well, get a fucking drink then!"

He and Kiri begin to chant that back and forth turning it into a bit of a song, which Orly chuckles at and begins to play a bit of a jig, eliciting a few smirking laughs from the others, while Kingsley blanches a little bit.

"I feel like I'm a bad influence," Kingsley states as he stands up.

"Oh, we all are." Fjord agrees.

"Most of us." Cad amends with a smile.

Caleb chuckles, gripping Essek's hand a bit tighter as he smiles as well, listening to the chaos begin to pick up around him, as Kiri and Luc begin to dance around them, drawing others to join them as Orly begins to play in earnest, joined by Marius, as he draws a lute from his back. First Beau and Yasha, then Yeza and Veth holding Molly, then Fjord and Jester with their son between them, Marion and the Gentleman, Keg shrugs and begins tapping her foot while Twiggy begins dancing by herself, twirling in a flurry of spinning skirts, leaving Caliana, who is quickly offered a hand by Reani, taking it with a vibrant blush' Kingsley looks about before offering Cad a hand with a smirk, who shakes his head just looking about contently. Kingsley shrugs only for Calliope to vice grip his hand and twirls him away while Nila and her son are the last to stand up and dance, with TJ joining his older sister and her partner. Caleb shoots Essek a questioning look, who smiles and stands, resting his forehead against his silently, before in the moon and fire-light, missed by all but a cloaked green figure at the edge of the revelry their chins tip up towards each other into a soft, gentle kiss.

Caleb is glad to be home.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #beauyahsa #fjorester #shadowgast #cr veth #cr caduceus #kingsley tealeaf #orly skiffback #cr reani

[blackmissfrizzle]

A La Nanita Nana

Pairing: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Based off this imagine

Warnings: Sweet, soft fluff and smut

A/N: Also listen to the song also inspired by this.

You had your friend, Ashley meet you at the clubhouse since you were already there dropping off lunch for the fellas. Last night she left her wallet in your car and she was coming to get it back.

Hearing her car pull up, you ran outside to see if she brought your favorite person with her. Ashley just took Luna out of her car seat when you made it outside.

“Ahhh, give me my godbaby!” You ran towards her with open arms with Angel following behind you.

Ashley scoffed as she handed you the baby. “Oh, hey nice to see you too,” she said sarcastically.

Waving her off you cooed at Luna. “Heifer, I just saw you last night and listened to you extensively go into detail how well Darren ate it from the back.”

Crossing her arms, Ashley pointed at Angel. “And I listened to you explain how Angel fucks you so good that he could do whatever he wants to you and you’ll say thank you.”

“EARMUFFS!” You covered Luna’s ears even though she was only a couple of months old and didn’t understand a word coming out of y’alls mouth.

Angel sneaked behind you and snaked his hands around your hips. “Aw, that’s what you think of me sweetheart?” He teased as he places a kiss on your cheek. He was backing away when Luna caught ahold of his beard and started giggling.

“Looks like someone has a crush on you, babe. Do you want to hold her?” You spun around towards him to give Luna to him.

Automatically, Angel was resistant to the idea. Luna look so fragile that if he even touched her the wrong way, he thought she would break. “Nah, I’m good. Don’t wanna hurt little mama.”

“Nonsense, Angel.” You began untangling her from your arms and put Luna in Angel’s. He looked to Ashley for approval and she nodded yes.

His nervousness was coming out in waves, but he looked like a natural with a baby in his arms. Recently, you’ve been thinking about having kids with Angel and now this visual was only fueling your dreams.

Angel was getting into the groove of things with holding little Luna, but she randomly started crying and Angel was freaking out. “I promise I didn’t do anything,” Angel swore to Ashley, thinking he did something wrong. Ashely assured him it was nothing he did, that babies cry for no reason all the time.

You took Luna from Angel and started rocking and singing her to sleep.

A la nanita nana

nanita ella, nanita ella

Mi niñ(a) tiene sueño

bendito sea, bendito sea

Angel’s eyes shot up to you as he heard your voice. He was surprised for multiple reasons. 1) he didn’t know you could sing, 2) he didn’t know you could speak Spanish, and 3) he hasn’t heard that song since EZ was a kid.

Fuentecita que corre

Clara y sonora

Ruiseñor que en la selva

Cantando y llora

Calla mientras la cuna

Se balancea

A la nanita nana

Nanita ella

EZ was walking by when he heard your voice and he stopped his tracks. Just like Angel he was stunned. “Is she, is she singing-”

“The lullaby mom used to sing for us?” Angel completed the sentence for his brother. “Yeah.” He sniffled, the tears slowly trying to escape.

As you calmed Luna down, Angel came to a realization. He was ready to have a family with you. Already he could see it: him coming home from the scrap yard, you cooking dinner pregnant with his son, and his daughter on the floor playing. His perfect little family.

EZ saw how Angel looked at you adoringly. For awhile he knew that you were the one for Angel and it looked like Angel was coming to that conclusion as well. “Guess I should get ready to be a tio.”

Angel wiped a tear away and gripped EZ’s shoulder. “Yeah, little bro get ready.”

--

You just stepped out of the shower when Angel reached out to you and pulled you to the bed down with him.

“Querida, there’s been something on my mind.” Angel mumbled into your ear.

You looked up at him, palming his cheek taking in his serious tone. “What is it, Angel?”

“Seeing you with Luna today made me realize I want a baby with you. Will you give me a baby?” Angel asked nervously rubbing his hands up and down your hips.

Undoing your towel, you rolled on top of Angel. “I’ll give you all the babies you want.”  You reached behind and began stroking Angel’s already hardened length.

“Fuck! Be careful with saying shit like that to me, amor. I’ll keep you knocked up.” Angel sat up to kiss you, his hands wrapping in your hair.

Angel rolled you back, so he could be on top once again. Easily, he slid into you, no buildup needed. He stretched you out perfectly, pleasure mixed with a little bit of pain. His strokes soft and sensual, making you needy for more.

Your hands went to his ass to make him go deeper. “Angel, harder please,” your voice trembled.

“I’m trying to be romantic here,” he chuckled when you slapped his ass.

“Fuck romantic. Use me and fill me up like the little cum slut I am.” Usually, Angel was the dirty talker in the bedroom, but you had to give him some motivation to use you like you want.

Angel’s hips stuttered and his eyes darkened. He was always trying to break you out of your reluctancy to talk dirty with him. “Your wish is my command, querida.” His strokes became harder, but he kept up the sensuality. He leaned down, his lips hovering over yours telling you all the dirty things he’s gonna do to you throughout the night.

Soon, you started playing dirty. Your lips sucking all on Angel’s hot spots, you throwing back your own dirty words at him, and squeezing him tightly.

“Shit, Y/N! You want me to fill that tight little hole up already?”

“Yes, Angel, please!”

“Fucking cum slut. I’m fucking you like this all night long. Might as well get ready to call in at work tomorrow.”

A few more deep strokes and extra pressure from Angel’s rough fingers led to the most mind-blowing orgasm. Your legs literally shaked as Angel kept fucking you through your orgasmic high until he went into his.

As you caught your breath, Angel reached out to hold your hand, his other pushing back your hair clinging to your sweaty forehead. “I’m definitely fucking you some more tonight, but that’s the one. I just got you pregnant.” And it may seem silly, but you agreed with him as well.

*9 MONTHS LATER*

Angel’s voice and small little cries woke you up out of your sleep. “Aw shit, I’m not as good as this as your moms. Who the fuck am I kidding? I’m horrible at this, but we can’t have your mom waking up. It took a lot of her energy to bring you here today. So, please don’t cry when you hear this, preciosa.”

A la nanita nana

nanita ella, nanita ella

Mi niñ(a) tiene sueño

bendito sea, bendito sea

Angel’s voice was rough and a little bit offkey, but you smiled anyways. He was so nervous that he was going to be a horrible father, but you knew he had nothing to worry about.

You grabbed your phone to get a video and snap a couple of pictures. The sight of Angel holding your and his little girl with the moonlight illuminating them was breathtaking and needed to be captured. It would be a reminder for Angel if he ever doubted his parenting skills.

You thought you were gonna get away with capturing the moment until your phone clattered against the counter. “Mi dulce, you’re supposed to be asleep. Did I wake you?” He whispered, careful not to arouse little Marisol, but still very much concerned for you.

“Yes, but I’m glad you did or otherwise I would’ve missed your singing.” You reached out for him to take his seat back next to you.

Angel obliged but sat on the bed with you. “I’m sorry.” He kissed your forehead and put Marisol in your arms.

“Don’t be. I loved every second of it.” You kissed him back.

Marisol began getting a little antsy again and started crying once more. “Can I sing it with you this time?” You looked up to Angel while rocking your baby girl.

“Of course.” Angel agreed, loving to hear you sing any chance he could get.

A la nanita nana

nanita ella, nanita ella

Mi niñ(a) tiene sueño

bendito sea, bendito sea

Fuentecita que corre

Clara y sonora

Ruiseñor que en la selva

Cantando y llora

Calla mientras la cuna

Se balancea

A la nanita nana

Nanita ella

The rough timber of Angel’s voice combined with your velvety smooth voice got Marisol to calm down and back to sleep in no time. And just like that the two of you vowed to keep this little nightly tradition up as much as you could.

Tags: @marvelmaree​ @starrynite7114​ @thickemadame​ @angrythingstarlight​ @briannab1234​ @sadeyesgf​ @carlaangel86​ @backoff-imreadingdarkness​ @sparklemichele​ @titty-teetee​ @chaneajoyyy​

#black!reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans mc #mayans mc fandom #mayans mc fanfic #frizzlesfic #frizzlefic #frizzlewrites

[minimoefoe]

River’s Potential Return

Alex Kingston said in a vid recently that the 24 years River spent on Darilium is plenty of time for her to pop out and go on more adventures with other Doctors and it's literally all I can think about.

Because up to now, my issue with River meeting Thirteen is that in THORS River was only aware of the Doctor's faces up to Eleven, so her meeting Thirteen earlier in her timeline than the moment we see that list of faces wouldn't make sense. Which is why I’ve always been kinda iffy on Thirteen and River meeting because even though DW is full of retcons, if they did meet earlier in River’s timeline than THORS then it would completely retcon half of that episode, and I love that episode.

And I know there is some story somewhere where River says the Doctor is her ‘sometimes wife’ so THORS has kinda already been slightly retconned. But I can just Pretend I Do Not See some random EU story, what I wouldn’t be able to do is Pretend I Do Not See a full episode of the show where River, somewhere in her timeline before meeting Twelve, returns and meets a Doctor past Twelve. That would be a bit too retconny for me, no matter how much I want River to come back.

The only other way I thought of for River returning and it making sense was if the Doctor either went to the Library she was saved in after she died (which is like... why would the Doctor ever do that?) or if we had a Name of the Doctor situation where ghost River was there for whatever reason. But that has always felt kinda shoehorny, like I’d much rather see River alive and well than see the ghost version of her because it would feel like she can’t really do anything? Like she is just there as some guide for the Doctor and not as her own person with her own things going on, which is something I don’t looove about Name of the Doctor even though I love that episode. It kinda just left River to stand around being some kind of ghost tour guide for Clara and the Doctor. And I prefer the idea that the Doctor bumps into River accidently rather than them purposely going back to the Library to find her. Idk. I would have taken it if it was the only way for it to make sense for River to meet Thirteen/any future Doctor but it’s not my fave.

But now Alex has fuckin opened my world up to all these possibilities of River being able to meet Thirteen and it not be an issue. Like Twelve knows he has these last 24 years with her but is like, no, we can have more time. So he lets River leave Darilium however often she likes and then she comes back to the exact moment she left so they still get the full 24 years on Darililium together and Twelve is never without River for more than a minute or so but River is also getting an extra week, month, year or decade of time to live and go on more adventures and Twelve knows that future him is going to see River again even though at the end of these 24 years he’s going to be sending her to her death.

And literally all you would need in an episode to make sure people know what point in her timeline she’s in is for her to make some little comment about how she’s just popped away from Darilium for a little adventure. Or if you want the Doctor and River to have like a Deep moment, they could have full on convos about how the Doctor has already lived Darilium and sent River to her death where as River still has that to come and is kinda in the middle of living it. Or they could just not put that in the episode at all and put it in some other EU story instead, kinda like how Dhawan!Master hasn’t been confirmed, in the show, to be post!Missy but in other stories it is confirmed that he is.

I don’t have much hope for River meeting Thirteen (at least not in the show), mainly because we just had Jack come back and I’d assume they would space the returns out a little bit rather than having two major characters come back really close to each other, and with Thasmin thing going on at the moment, throwing in River might just complicate/ruin things, or idk, maybe River returning could actually be used as a way to progress Thasmin. 

But then also I’m like if River returned I’d want it to be more about River and the Doctor and less about the Doctor and Yaz. And we only have 8 eps of Series 13 and I think I’d rather they focused on Thasmin and the Timeless Child arc and then maybe bring back River in Series 14 where there will hopefully be more episodes and she can have more of an important role. Idk. There’s a lot of ways they could do it and tbh I’m down for most of it as long as we get to see River on screen again.

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #river song #twelfth doctor #dw meta #yasmin khan #anyways #chib plz bring back river #him bringing back river #would defo take the attention away #from the fact jack came back #which probs wouldnt be a bad thing #considering the shit going on with john rn #nataliechats #dw txt

[guessimwritingficsagain]

To been seen, part Four (Frankie Morales x Reader)

Summary : You get a text. You freak out.

Author’s note : I am very very soft for Frankie.

Also, I have a few days off and I thought I have been really self-indulgent so : the cheese gift really happened to me (best birthday ever, he got me a Mont d'Or because he knew I had planned on eating one with my best friend to celebrate), the Edward Scissorchands movie thing really happened to me, and the "date" with the grandma too. In France, the Opera is often showed in movie theaters. When I was a teenager, I thought it was quite the event, though. So I got invited. Next thing we saw together with that guy was the movie Black Swan and I made sure someone was tagged along.

The holidays came and went in a blur of laughter, hot chocolate was big sweaters. You were happy. And Jessie was happy too. January came, and went, too. Everything was slow. So you watched the movie you’d bought, and a bunch of others too.

February was over before you knew it, and when March warmed up the air, you found yourself, one morning, looking at the screen of your phone like the message would disappear if you blinked. You turned your eyes to the cupboard that contained the empty box of chocolate that sat there, hidden from the sniggering remarks of Linda, and looked back at the screen. The text message was still there. You put the phone down, abruptly, fingers tingling and burning and went to get a glass of water. Your eyes landed on the bottle of wine, still unopened, and you almost spilled your drink. You went back to your phone in a hurry, opened the chat you shared with your friends and sent

Who the fuck gave Francisco fucking Morales my phone number ?????

You waited, breathing hard, hoping anyone would answer. Nothing came, not right away. Phone on the table again, you slumped on the couch, nervous breakdown on its way. You couldn’t do it, there was no way you could do that, you couldn’t, that would kill you, you wouldn’t survive this.

Time floated for a while, up until your phone vibrated and you jumped. You’d been so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed everyone had answer, Anna, Jessie and Linda with a simple « not me » but James …

James had sent a

Go get some

And an eggplant emoji.

James, then.

Okay.

Okay.

You were fine. You could answer a text. You knew the drill, by now. You knew how to pretend you were not freaking out every time Frankie did something unexpected and kind, like that time he offered you chocolate and a bottle of wine for Christmas. You had coping mechanisms, now, to hide the fact you had a doctorate in yearning.

You’d replayed the Christmas Scene so many times in your head you sometimes thought you made it up, but the reminders were there, in your flat.

You’re replaying it now.

You’re getting out of your car, with ten minutes to spare before work starts. It’s almost six. You spot Frankie’s truck on the parking lot and you’re a bit surprised but mostly delighted, even more so when you see the man himself jogging towards you. It takes you a minute to see he’s holding presents. By the time he gets to you, you’re confused. He smiles a breathy hello before handing you what he’s got in his hands. You stare at the neatly wrapped packages for a bit, like the dumbass you are, unable to put two and two together. Maybe it’s for Clara ?

It must be for Clara.

You take them. Say thank you. And Frankie answers :

« Open them. »

Your braincells must have left the building like God in Supernatural, gone off to do the Macarena dance somewhere very far away because all you can answer is what and you know you sound like a dumbass and you feel like one too.

The lack of reaction is getting to Frankie, you can tell, because he’s rubbing the back of his neck and you feel bad that he’s embarrassed so you say :

« You got me presents ? »

Well, except you don’t really say it. More squeal it. Or shriek it. You’re not sure. It feels like a repeat of that moment a boy you’d liked but never made a move on offered you fucking cheese on your birthday and was all embarrassed about it and you didn’t know what to do or say because his birthday had been a few days before yours and you didn’t get him anything.

You add, for good measure, because why the hell not :

« But I didn’t get you anything. »

Like maybe he’s going to take them back, or maybe the moment is going to rewind except you don’t want it to rewind because Frankie has gifts for you, just for you.

Maybe he got something for Jessie and Anna, too ? You wonder. And Linda. You know he goes there to buy books. Maybe he showed up and got her some stuff. Not books, you hope. Stupid to buy books to a bookseller.

All of this goes through your mind and in the meanwhile Frankie’s waiting and when you finally put your bag down on the hood of your car to carefully open the first present, your body finally moving, you don’t miss the sigh of relief that escapes Frankie. It’s a box of chocolate, a fancy one at that. You recognize the brand. You hold it for a while, before you set it down with your bag and say thank you in a voice that’s way too small. You open the second one, then. Wine. White wine. Wine that you actually love. Your favorite. You wonder how he knows that.

You’re holding the bottle the way he’s holding his breath : tight. You lift your eyes to meet his and you can tell he’s embarrassed and a bit blushing. He rearranges the cap on his head and announces :

« Merry Christmas. »

You say it back, smile so big your cheeks hurt because Frankie got you presents for Christmas. You put the bottle with the rest of your stuff and then, on a whim, you throw yourself at him for a hug. He closes his arms around you, and one hand comes up right between your shoulder-blades, his thumb just here, sitting on the back of your neck, skin against skin and maybe you’re dead and in heaven right now.

You stay like this way too long and at some point you mumble against his shoulder that you really didn’t get him anything.

« It’s fine », he answers as he lets go, hands squeezing your side briefly.

You get into work late.

And now, you got a text. You opened it, read it again.

Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could take it to the next level. After all, you’d became closer to the boys over the last two months. Santi could have sent you that text, right ? That text didn’t have the word date in it. Maybe you were friends now. Frankie’d gotten you Christmas presents, after all.

So you read the words again, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you sent a yeah, sure, I’m in !

Your eyes went over his message once again, just to make sure the words would be burnt into your brain.

Hey, it’s Frankie. I know Friday’s your day off this week. I got two tickets to that new Marvel movie and one with your name on it. You in ?

You could spend two hours in a dark room with Francisco Morales right next to you. No problem. None at all.

———

He’d picked a screening that ended around seven. Your mind supplied just in time for dinner, and you kicked the two remaining braincells you had. You’d decided to drive there separately and were now sitting next to each other, you explaining the Marvel timeline and him listening intently. You were a nerd, but, him, not as much. You didn’t try to think too hard about the fact that he was doing this for you, because he was not as much into comics or movies as you were.

The whole thing was pleasant and relaxed.

This was not a date, you reminded yourself.

You got dinner after that, dissecting the movie as you ate - nothing fancy, but it was nice. The conversation shifted, at some point.

« Yeah, I get what you mean : movies are not the place to make a move. Especially when there’s a hot guy on the screen. I mean, what chance do you get when you’re watching a movie and Oscar Isaac is right there ? » Frankie laughed.

You nodded, getting another sip of your drink, and, as an afterthought, added :

« You know, Santi kinda looks like Oscar Isaac … »

Frankie grunted :

« Never, ever, tell him that. »

You promised you wouldn’t. After that, the two of you told each other stories about your worst dates, and you remembered :

« You know, when I was younger, before I met James, I hung out with a bunch of guys. I was like, fourteen, and they were sort of … beginning to understand I was a girl, you know. There was this guy, a good friend of mine, who actually told this other guy we weren’t going to see a movie. I remember, it was a special screening of Edward Scissorshands. So, my other friend never showed up and the guy told me he couldn’t make it. »

« Let me guess, the other guy told you later he thought you weren’t going ? »

You laughed.

« Yeah, basically. And then this guy I went to see the movie with invited me to a really fancy thing. It was a Wednesday afternoon, I remember. We got lunch. I didn’t pay for anything because he’d invited to come along with him and his grandma. Let me tell you : after that, I made sure to always have someone with us when he invited me somewhere. »

Frankie’s laugh was something you’d never grew tired of, you knew that.

———

Months went on, like that, with you and Frankie hanging out to see movies, and everybody showing up for Benny’s fight when you could (Jessie and you had to keep James updated, those nights, because he’d gone back to Washington after new year’s eve but wanted to know everything). Jessie had started dating a guy, at some point, and you didn’t find him that great but Will hated him.

« When are you gonna make a move ? » You asked, one evening as you were sipping beers with him at his place.

« When she doesn’t have a boyfriend dull as dishwater » He answered without missing a beat.

You knew this was the moment, then. You had two options : say nothing and let things be, or say something and get those idiots together. You thought hard, about the phrasing of your next sentence, and settled with :

« For you, she’d dump him. »

Will froze at that, just for a second, and quipped back :

« I’ll make a move when you make a move on ‘Fish. »

So that conversation was happening. You’d hoped none of the guys had noticed but obviously, at least one of them had. And you knew, by now, that his ex-wife had left him, had left Maria too. You knew he was available. You sputtered a bit and Will, kind Will, let it be. You enjoyed a nice evening with him, not once wondering why he sought you out, because Will and you didn’t hang out.

The answer came a few days later, with a simple text from Frankie.

Come over please

———

« I need you to take care of Maria », Frankie said as he opened the door. He looked really tired, like he hadn’t slept in days.

Please, he added, begging but you didn’t quite understand what he was begging for.

You complied, never stopping to think that this was the first time you saw Maria, never stopping to think about what might be possibly happening, even as Frankie went to his room, muttering apologies. It hit you when you put the girl to bed, and you remembered Frankie and the way he’d been looking at you that day, when he’d asked if they could throw a birthday party for their late friend’s daughter.

It was around that time, last year.

You walked hesitantly towards Frankie’s bedroom and stared at the white paint in it for a while. You were nervous, and actually turned around to smoke a cigarette outside, the air a bit too chilly for you, but cold enough to wake you up and give you the strength to walk to Frankie’s bedroom and knock.

So you did it.

He didn’t answer, but, feeling bold - or rather, feeling like you needed to do it - you opened the door anyway. The room was almost dark, the moonlight giving you an idea that Frankie was curled up, on his side. You put a hand on his shoulder. He put his on top of yours. You chose - you chose - to take it at a silent invitation, lifted the covers, and got, fully dressed, right next to him. Because friends do that.

———

When you woke up, he was staring at you. While your brain tried to make sense of the situation, you asked, voice heavy with sleep :

« What time is it ? »

Seven, Frankie answered. Maria’s gonna wake up soon, he added. You were too tired to say anything else, because when you’d laid down next to him you’d felt like your heart had been about to burst so you’d just listened to him, his breath steadying as he’d got to sleep. You’d finally got to sleep too, but it was too damn early for you.

Later, you’d blame what happened on your foggy brain : you snuggled closer, and Frankie let you. Then, it hit you. At that moment, right next to him, it hit you : you were not friends with him. You were pretending to be, but you were not and never would.

You couldn’t.

You wanted to wake up everyday like that, to Frankie telling you it’s seven, Maria’s gonna be awake soon. You wanted everything and friends just wouldn’t cut it.

Two things happened at once, then : you were realizing how much you liked - loved - Frankie when he gently took one of your forearm and brought it to his lips. All of the feelings hit home just as he was kissing the soft skin on your wrist and you froze.

He saw it and let go immediately, muttering apologies, while you were still processing what you felt about him. When you reached to grab him, to tell him how good that was and how wanted him to do it again, it was already too late.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #triple frontier #Pedro Pascal x reader

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 43 - Meant To Be

Title: Irreverent Pt. 43 - Meant To Be Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: 22,571

A/N: I’m very nervous about this chapter, but I think it’s important nonetheless and I’m asking you to bear with me on it. I am very aware that this is an Aaron Hotchner story at its core, but I’d be remiss if I ignored the back story for a Reader I’ve come to really love and treasure. If it helps anyone, I picture John to look like Steve Rogers circa Winter Soldier. 

Irreverent Series Masterlist

Your mother was being impossible. Julian was escorting Elizabeth Abbott to her cotillion and everyone in the family was going except for you, which was completely unfair! You'd begged and begged the entire month, any chance you had with her, and she had yet to relent. You'd been on your absolute best behavior, you'd maintained your spot at the top of your class, and you'd even landed the lead role in the Nutcracker. Yet, your mother was of the opinion that little girls didn't belong at formal events.

Dom was back for his winter holidays and everyone was under the same roof again after nearly six months. Your Papa had been away on business for the past five weeks and there was a chance he hadn't yet spoken to your mother about the cotillion, so taking a risk, you asked him if you could attend.

He fixed you with his thinking look as you waited nervously, peeking over at your mother who seemed completely irritated with you going over her head.

"Have you kept up with what I taught you last time for your chess game?" he asks finally.

You nod. "Of course Papa.

"Good, then pick one of your brothers to play. If you win, then you may attend."

This was better than you could have hoped for. You quickly exchange a look with Julian who winks at you, bypassing your mother's glare.

"I'll play Julian," you say, standing to set up the board by the fireplace.

Dom, who had till that point been absorbed in his own business, chooses then to tune in to the rest of the family. "Oh come on! Julian's just going to let her win."

"No he's not!" you insisted, looking at your Papa. Dominic was being annoying for no reason and he would try his best to beat you on purpose. Why did he even care if you attended or not?

Your Papa looks between you and Dominic, and it must have been the fact that Julian avoided his eyes altogether that convinced him to listen to Dom.

"It should be a real victory, don't you think?" he asks you, fixing you with his stern face that always made you feel like he knew everything you were trying to hide from him.

"Yes Papa," you responded glumly, as you continued to set up. Dom and his smug face got up to take the seat opposite yours.

However, you needn't have worried. You hadn't lied when you told your father that you'd kept up with the chess lessons. You'd been practicing nearly every day, on your own and with Julian and his friends. Dominic lost far too quickly for being nineteen years old, playing his nine year old baby sister.

He stared at the board after you said checkmate for a few minutes, as if he couldn't believe that had just happened. As though you'd tricked him. Before you could really gloat in your victory, he roared and flipped the board over. You quickly scrambled to get away from him as he came at you with his arm raised.

"Hey, man, she's nine! What the hell!" Julian had ran to get between the two of you and Dominic shoved him, throwing him off balance, before he swung at his face.

You'd run to hide behind your father's chair as Dominic continued on towards you, having punched Julian in the face and knocked him backwards. It took your father standing up and being absolutely furious, for Dom to back off. He threw you a nasty look and strode out of the study, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Julian stood up, and you gasped loudly when you saw his face.

Your mother turns to you, absolutely furious. "You see! Now look what you've done. Your brother is supposed to be an escort - how is he meant to do that with a black eye?"

You turned to look at your father who only shook his head before walking out after Dom, leaving you to deal with your mother's wrath on your own.

How on earth was this your fault?

However, it had all been worth it, because here you sat at your very first ball. You'd had your dress picked out for weeks in the vain hope that you'd be allowed to go and it had paid off. Your legs dangled from the chair as you sat between your parents, your mother constantly fussing with your dress and chastising you to sit up straight. As the music swelled, you watched all of the girls walk down the steps in their white gowns, their fathers handing them off to their dates. Julian met Mr. Abbott at the foot of the steps and accepted Elizabeth from him. Your mother had managed to hide the black eye with some concealer and your father had knocked some sense into Dom, who was sulking at the bar in the back with some of his buddies.

Then there he was. Escorting beautiful Cecelia Rhodes, Johnathan Hawthorne walked past your table with her on his arm and as he caught your eye, he threw you a wink and a grin. You sighed to yourself, smiling wide as you watched him. John Hawthorne with his all-American good looks, amazing hair, and a smile that could warm the coldest of hearts. He was, by every definition of the word, perfect.

John led Cecelia to stand near Julian and Elizabeth - you knew that the two of them had practiced the dance all week with one other. You'd supervised. They better not mess it up and make you look like a bad teacher. However, you needn't have worried. Both Lizzie and Cece should thank you that they had the best dates there. All of the other boys messed up. A lot.

Your mother had given you a ten o'clock curfew and it was already nine thirty by the time the dessert was served, so you really didn't have too much time left before Mrs. Hernandez came to pick you up. Your parents had abandoned you a while back, so you were left to entertain yourself. You looked up and saw Julian talking to some boy from his class. It looked like him and Elizabeth were done dancing for the night, because her and Cece were sitting at a different table with some other girls. The music was still playing and there were a few of the older couples on the dance floor, swaying along to the music.

"Hey Cap."

You turn and see John coming up behind you and dropping into your father's chair. You giggled as you turned to him and said hello. You always loved it when he called you that. It made you feel special. He'd told you that you reminded him of one of the best chess players of all time, Capablanca, because the two of you both finished off your opponents lightning fast. He'd started calling you Cap because of it, insisting that one day you would be better than him. He also made it a point to play you anytime he was over, and while he had yet to win, he kept trying.

"You looked really good out there," you tell him, a slight color flushing your cheeks.

"Well, I had a pretty good teacher," he replies, smiling at you with his radiant smile that never failed to take your breath away.

"That's true."

He laughs, before swiping your dessert plate and finishing off the rest of your cake while you glare at him. But you're not really all that upset. It's John. You couldn't ever be all too mad at him.

"What're you doing here? Besides eating my cake," you ask him, indicating to the rest of his classmates who were scattered between a few tables in their own groups. None of the rest of them were sitting around with the baby.

"Well, I couldn't end the night without dancing with the prettiest girl here, now could I?" He smiles and offers you his hand, which you grab excitedly. No one had asked you to dance yet and it would be a shame to not dance even once at your first ball ever.

John leads you out to the dance floor and offers to let you stand on his feet, but you were determined to do this right. You weren't given the role of Clara for nothing - you earned that! He held both of your hands in his due to the height difference, and the two of you moved along to the music in formation.

"Hey John," you said, looking up at him shyly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you love Cece?"

He's quiet for a second as he thinks over your question. "Well, she is my girlfriend," he says after a few seconds, "but it's still new and we're figuring things out."

You nod. You'd expected as much - John was good at giving the right answers and he never lied to you if he could help it.

"Do you think you'll marry her one day?"

He laughs a bit at that. "Probably not. She's just a girl I'm dating in high school. Not many people end up with their high school sweetheart."

You smile at that. He's right. Most people grow up, move away, go to college and meet their wives and husbands there. Your parents had met one another in college, after all.

"Good," you tell him, allowing him to spin you around his finger.

He smiles a bit weirdly at that, his eyebrows going up a bit. "Why is that good?" he asks.

You're not sure if you should tell him. It is a little embarrassing. But then, if you didn't tell him, then he might pick some girl - Cece or otherwise - and that would cause other sorts of problems.

"Promise you won't laugh?" you ask him. You have to be sure that he wouldn't make fun of you for this. That would break your heart if he of all people laughed.

"I promise," he says, linking your pinkies with his.

You take a deep breath, before you look right at him. "Because one day, I'm going to marry you. And we'll get married by the lake where Auntie Amelia got married and I'll get to wear the biggest white dress ever. You'll wear a blue suit because blue goes well with your eyes. It'll be perfect."

You expect him to laugh even though he said he wouldn't. But then, John really isn't like that. He kneels down so he can look at you better, not caring that the music is still playing and everyone else is still dancing. He looks you right in the eye, completely seriously, and sticks out his hand for you to shake. "You got yourself a deal, Cap."

*------------*

It's Thanksgiving Break and his parents are on business in Asia so Julian had invited him to spend the holiday with his family. Dominic and his girlfriend would be there, and Julian had told him that you were dreading an entire week of playing nice with Dom so that he can show off the family and charm the pants off of the Huntingtons' daughter. John would be a welcome buffer.

He'd accepted mostly so he could avoid being the only person left on campus, and the alternative was to go home with the new girl he'd started seeing and he worried that meeting the parents so soon would send the wrong message. Caitlyn was nice and all but he didn't see much of a future there. She was bright in the way that girls tend to be when they're told they need to go to college to secure a husband. She could carry on an intellectual conversation for around five minutes, until you dug deeper and realized all she knew was the reader's digest version.

That's how he finds himself in Connecticut, sneaking out with you and Julian to the pool. He'd spent the day hunting with the men, and while your mother had thought you were going out to ride, you'd actually snuck along with them. Your father had merely shook his head before grabbing an extra rifle for you. He knew you didn't really want to hunt, you just wanted to be included. You kept conveniently missing easy shots and he'd gone to the shooting range with you too many times to believe you'd gotten that bad overnight. When he'd quietly called you out on it, you told him you didn't feel comfortable eating Bambi for dinner. He'd had to agree with you, so now your father thought he was a terrible shot as well.

It's been a while since he'd spent so much time with you, as he'd been away at college or doing internships. The last time, you'd been around thirteen and it had been his and Julian's second winter holidays when both of your families had booked a stay in Gstaad. You'd fallen ill and had spent most of the time sniffling and coughing in bed. Him and Julian would hit the slopes in the morning and then spend the rest of the day drinking hot chocolate and watching movies in your room while Julian complained about you getting your germs all over him. You talked to him about all the classes he was taking and the two of you had spent a memorable afternoon debating the merits of the death penalty. He was going to be using all of it for the paper he had due.

It's late at night and the moon is overhead. Julian had excused himself to go raid your father's liquor cabinet and in the distance you two can hear Dom and his girlfriend Katie fighting. Your mother had made some comment about her clothing and it had obviously gotten to her. She'd have to grow a thicker skin if she was going to last.

"Hundred dollars says they break up by Christmas." You look at him, your face betraying your glee at your brother's misfortune.

He laughs. "You're on." He had a feeling Katie was more resilient than most. She hadn't blown up at your mother to her face. She'd waited until it was just Dom and her. He had a feeling Dom would be making it up to her for a while, though, if he wanted it to last.

The two of you are sat at the edge of the pool, your feet dangling in the water. It's a good thing the pool is heated, because swimming in late November in Connecticut and dying as a result of freezing to death really wasn't his life plan. He looks at you, playing with the edge of the sweatshirt you'd borrowed from him when you'd first come over to Julian's room where the two of them had been hanging out. You'd persuaded them to come out with you and had asked to borrow something to throw on top since it was freezing outside. The Columbia law school hoodie enveloped you completely, nearly at your knees.

"What's going on with you lately?" he asks, turning towards the house and seeing the lights go on in your father's study, indicating that Julian had started raiding the alcohol.

"Well, high school sucks like you said it would," you reply with a bitter note to your voice. He knew that you hated going to boarding school and had thrown a fit when your parents had decided to send you. Neither Dom nor Julian had gone to boarding school, and you'd protested against it vehemently. However, your father hadn't wanted to leave you on your own in Connecticut and with him traveling so much and your mother being away as well, they wanted to give you a semblance of structure. He wasn't sure if he agreed with it either - he knew you'd be much happier going to Hopkins like the rest of them had rather than go boarding school hopping to whichever continent your father decided to have business in that year.

"Have you at least made new friends this time?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "If by friends, you mean guys named Brad who ask me out and then when I say no, they go and tell the entire school I slept with them, then sure yeah. I've made friends."

He raises his eyebrows at that. There wasn't a chance Julian knew about this, because if he did, Brad would be history.

"What'd you do about that?" he asks, wondering if he needs to go teach this Brad guy a thing or two about how to treat girls right.

"Told anyone who asked, that Brad isn't particularly well-endowed," you tell him, the ghost of a smirk on your lips.

"Good girl."

"I can handle it, it's not that I can't. It's just…I can't wait to be in college and not have to worry about this sort of crap."

He hums in agreement. College really was the great equalizer - or as much as it can be when everyone has the exact same blue blood upbringing as you do. He'd tried to make friends that weren't from his usual circles back when he'd done undergrad at Princeton and had hit it off with a few kids on scholarship. It was difficult however, when they either wanted to pay their own way or wouldn't let him help out. Made things awkward.

"Can I tell you something?" you ask. He notices that your fingers fidget with the ends of his sweatshirt - he's always found that little tell of yours endearing.

"Of course."

"I'm the last girl in my year to not have kissed anyone. Even Siena Robertson made out with Jacob Pemberley on the soccer field right before the break, so now I'm the last one left."

You look miserable admitting that and he feels for you - being a teenager and feeling like you're behind on stuff like that is its own brand of misery.

"It'll happen when the time is right," he says, hoping that's of some relief. However, even he knows how hollow his words sound. They're likely of little solace when you're a fifteen year old girl stuck feeling like there's something wrong with you for not having achieved these milestones.

He looks over at you and you had an odd look on your face, as though you're conflicted with something and struggling to really put your thoughts into words. He nudges you with his shoulder, moving his head up as if to ask, What else is going on in that head of  yours?

"I don't want my first kiss to be some guy named Brad," you admit, not looking at him, instead staring resolutely into the pool. The chilly air outside blows your hair ever so slightly, and he watches it move rather than look at you.

"Who do you want it to be?" he asks quietly.

You turn to him, your doe eyes wide with the hint of tears, biting your lip, and looking at him like you're not sure why he even bothered asking. As if he didn't know.

He feels his heart clench but he forces himself to look away from you, shaking his head as he does. "You're a kid," he says, the hair at the nape of his neck standing straight up as another chilly wind rushes over the both of you, blowing more leaves to the ground in a swirl.

He'd hoped that would be it. That you'd realize the absurdity of what you're saying.

"Please John." You plead, your hand reaching for his, sending a shiver down his spine. Your fingers are like icicles and he can't help himself from wrapping your hand in his, if only to warm it up.

"Julian would kill me," he tells you, wondering why that was the only thing he could think of to say to you. There's other reasons of course - it's wrong, so very wrong. He's a grown man and you're a kid. You deserve to have your first kiss be someone who you love - at least puppy love. Not like this.

"Julian doesn't have to know."

His jaw clenches as he looks down at you, your eyes fixed at where his hand is holding yours.

"Please," you try again, squeezing his hand to force him to meet your eyes. "Please don't let my first kiss be some guy named Brad."

He knows what you're saying. Don't let your first kiss mean nothing. Don't let it be meaningless and awful and only because you don't want to feel behind the rest of your classmates. Because he knows, that if this is how you feel already, you won't waste any time to make sure you're up to the mark, the second you get back to school. It would be rushed and sloppy and some kid named Brad would go around the school telling everyone he'd managed to snag you, and this time he wouldn't be lying.

He didn't want that for you. You deserved better.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he turns to look back at the study - the lights are still on, meaning Julian still hasn't left. The next second he's moved his hand out of your grasp, only to wrap it around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his head bent down to capture your lips with his, swallowing your surprised noise. Soft, plush, pliant, perfect. It's a quick press of lips on lips. Chaste, almost, if it weren't for the fact that he'd practically grabbed you like a rag doll, nearly to his lap. He won't take it further, though. He shouldn't. He moves away on a sigh. Your eyes are closed, your long lashes kissing your cheeks, your face illuminated by the moonlight.

"Thank you," you breathe out, your eyes still closed.

He knows he'll remember this moment forever.

There's the sound of the back door opening, and the two of you quickly move away from one another. Your eyes meet his and you smile just barely at him and he has a hard time not smiling back.

Julian returns, bottle of scotch in one hand and a bottle of Moët in the other. You refuse to drink scotch still, insisting it burns too much, so the champagne is always for you.

*------------*

It’s over a year later when he finds himself in Connecticut once again. His mother had asked him why he’d come just for cotillion season, and he tells her he'd missed her and his father and wanted to see them before buckling down for finals. He can't tell them the truth. That you'd called and asked him to.

"You know, it is quite unfair for you to have gotten to dance with me at your cotillion, but for me to be denied the same pleasure at mine," you'd said when you'd called him.

His face had split into a grin as he stood up to take your call, leaving his date sitting by herself. His mother had set him up with Arthur Cafferty's daughter who was studying fashion at NYU. Needless to say, the two of them had nothing in common and after three dates with the girl, he had really only asked her out this final time to break it off nicely.

"When is it?" he'd asked, taking his planner out of his bookbag. He hadn't even bothered to go home and change for this date. One would think the girl would take a hint and realize he wasn't interested.

You told him the date and he said he'd make it work. Your resulting squeal was so high pitched, he had to move the phone away from his ear.

"You're sure it's not too much trouble?" you ask, once your initial excitement wears off.

"Anything for my future wife," he jokes. "I am nothing if not a loving and doting husband."

Your twinkling laugh carried him through the misery of breaking up with the Cafferty girl.

He'd pushed off a couple of study groups, spoken to his Tort Law professor about making up the in-class debate he would miss, and caught the train up from the city. Julian had flown back from Europe, and the two of them had tagged along with you and your mother to your final dress fitting so that they could get their tux fittings done at the same time. The seamstress had you try on your dress and you looked like a ball of cotton, the swathes of tulle falling around you. You'd patiently stood while the lady made some last minute adjustments, both him and Julian poking fun at you while she did.

Once your mother left to go deal with the payment, you quickly moved to get out of the dress, grabbing another with you on the way into the fitting room. The seamstress dragged him and Julian up onto the fitting platforms next, tutting about them both having grown far too much since the last time. He detects movement in the mirror he's standing in, and you've emerged wearing another dress. He turns towards you, taking it in.

This dress flows down to your feet, draping against you as if it was made for you. As you take a step forward, his eye is caught by the deep slit to the side which exposes your leg with your movement. You know he's watching, so you turn for his benefit, revealing that there's no back to this dress. There's just the smooth skin of your back, fully exposed - his eyes wander down, catching the visible dimples at your lower back. He has to take a second and remind himself that Julian is there too, but you'd seen his reaction - he's sure of it. You'd taken his breath away.

"Mother will obliterate you if she sees you wearing that," Julian warns, moving towards you to help you spin around in it.

As if summoned, your mother reappears, seemingly aghast at your dress, and quickly ushers you away from view. Neither him nor Julian can make out what the two of you are saying, but its obviously an argument. When you emerge, you look entirely put out and he catches your eye, rolling his eyes in sympathy and drawing a small smile from you.

The next night, Julian and him drive you to the venue, dropping you off, before going to meet up with some old friends in the area. You were head debutante and had to coordinate everyone else along with the cotillion Chair, and thus were arriving nearly six hours prior to the event.

It's dark by the time everyone has arrived at your ball. It's decidedly your ball, that much is obvious. You'd had the venue changed from the usual ballroom at the country club to the old Haverford Mansion with its vaulted ceilings and grand staircase. He briefly wonders how you'd managed to swing that - the Chairs are usually older women who rule these events like their life depends on it. Then again, you could charm anyone if you really wanted to.

Julian and him find themselves at a table with both of your families. Dom had brought Katie, who had stuck around despite your mother. You'd handed over the cash to him from that bet happily enough. Katie was great. You didn't think Dom deserved her and you were quite vocal about your opinion.

"Julian, my boy!" John's father exclaims, sitting down across from the two of them, "When's your next show coming?"

"Oh I've only just started on the new collection, Mr. Hawthorne, so not for a while. But I'll be sure to give you first peek when it's ready" Julian tells his father. The Hawthornes made it a point to always grab a piece from any collection Julian painted, his mother fancying herself a patron of the arts.

His mother briefly asks him and Julian why neither of them could ever manage to bring dates to such events and all of their classmates are getting married around them. John of course knew the reason why Julian never brought dates - his dates tend to wear suits instead of ballgowns and it wasn't the kind of attention he wanted brought to his life. Why he never seemed to have a date, however, was a very good question. One that could be answered if anyone were to remember the time he had brought a real date. Lindsey Carlyle had left last Thanksgiving when everyone had congregated at his family's brownstone, in a huff, claiming he wanted to spend more time with a sixteen year old girl rather than her.

"Remind me to tell my sister she owes me for making me sit through another one of these functions around all these people," Julian mutters to him, tugging at his collar.

John stifles a laugh. He was sure Julian would think of some manner of having you make it up to him - likely by simply having you spend the summer with him gallivanting around Europe. Julian didn't have it in him to truly be upset with you.

"I don't know how she talked you into coming, but she's had you whipped forever, so I guess I'm just glad I'm not here alone."

He rolls his eyes, elbowing Julian. It's no secret that he lets you boss him around - always has, ever since you were little.

Everyone quiets down as the music begins and the Chair comes to announce each girl. He knew you'd be last, being the head. To the side, all of the dates are standing, awaiting the arrival of the girls. Your father is upstairs, with the other fathers to the right of the staircase. One by one the girls are called, the Chair talks about each of their accomplishments as she announces them and their fathers walk them down the steps, to be handed off to the teenage boys in tuxes.

The music changes as it's your turn prompting him and Julian to exchange a look.

"Does the head deb usually get different music?" he leans over to ask Julian.

Julian shakes his head, his lips pressed tightly together in a way that John can tell he's trying hard not to smile and incur his mother's wrath.

The Chair begins to list your litany of accomplishments as your father walks out from the right and awaits you. He sees you emerge, and a collective hush falls over the crowd. You aren't wearing one of the regulation cotillion dresses like every girl before you. You're wearing the dress that had taken his breath away yesterday. There's a smirk planted quite firmly on your face as your father takes your hand and helps you float down the stairs.

John is positive your father's grip on you had been iron tight in reaction to your dress. Your date - a boy named William who John knew only vaguely - looks elated however. He helps you onto the dance floor and the music changes once again, with all of the couples dancing. John sees Julian's fists tighten as William's hands sit a little lower on your back than they should, and your father doesn't bother coming to the table, instead making a beeline to the bar.

"She's insane," Julian whispers out of the corner of his mouth, the both of them watching you with some amount of awe. No one did this at a cotillion. No one.

"I'll buy you that brush set you've been eyeing if your mother manages to drink less than five vodka sodas tonight," he tells Julian, the two of them grinning at one another.

Your mother throws a glare at the both of them as she knocks back her drink.

"No deal," Julian whispers back. "I'm going to lose that in the next ten minutes."

Turning their attention back towards you, they both watch as you twirl around in William's arms. The first dance is endless and at some point your father made it back to the table, carrying a drink in each hand. Your mother gets up when your father returns, the two of them having a quick, quiet exchange, at which Julian rolls his eyes.

However, as the second song draws to a close, John finds himself standing and making his way towards you. It really should be your father or one of your brothers cutting in for the first time, but he figures he should spare you their reactions as long as possible. He reaches you and William, towering over the boy as he approaches, and taps him on the shoulder to cut in. William appears a little annoyed but still hands you over, turning to walk to the sidelines.

He turns to look at you - you're sporting a smirk a mile wide, your eyes twinkling. You're pleased he was the one who cut in first.

"What a surprise seeing you here, Mr. Hawthorne," you drawl, humor coloring your voice.

"Well, I had to make sure I danced with the prettiest girl at the ball, now didn't I?" he replies, reaching for your hand and placing his other to your waist. You jump ever so slightly at the touch of his warm fingers against your skin and he has to disguise his laugh as a slight cough. When you place your other hand to his shoulder, it was as though an electric current ran through him.

The music transitions seamlessly and he draws you close into a waltz. He's highly aware that the two of you have nearly a hundred eyes on you and he can tell you're loving it.

"Are all the biddies clutching their pearls in horror?" you ask him.

"Why'd you pick this dress?" he asks, instead of answering your question. You already knew the answer.

"You liked it, didn't you?"

He nods. He had liked it. However, that didn't answer his question, so he looks at you, eyebrow quirked, imploring you to explain further.

With a slight roll of your eyes, you huff delicately. "I'm tired of being the good girl, the perfect girl. I wanted to turn some heads. I think we can both agree that I have."

"Your mother is going to kill you," he murmurs next to your ear, a smirk matching yours on his face. You had indeed turned heads. Some more than others.

"Oh please. Did you know, yesterday, she told me that I was far too chubby to wear a dress like this."

He starts to disagree with that assessment - you were anything but and the dress fit you like a glove as though it were commissioned for you.

"It's okay," you reassure him. "She's just upset she can no longer pull off something like this."

He laughs at that.

He twirls and spins you out, before catching you in his arms again.

"You look beautiful," he tells you looking right into your eyes, as though compelled to.

The faintest of colors graces your cheeks and you look bashfully (for the first time that night) away from him, smiling.

"Thank you."

The music changes again and he's almost worried that someone is going to steal you away from him, yet no one does. He meets Julian's eye above your head, and his friend looks to be talking his parents down from making a scene. Julian gives him an exasperated look as though to say, You see what I put up with because of her.

He looks back at you, shaking his head. "You're trouble, you know that?"

"You love trouble," you tell him, your eyes shining, smirking up at him.

He can't help himself from smirking right back. "You're a tease," he whispers back his fingers caressing your back, before he can catch himself. You're too young, even though you may not look it anymore.

As though sensing his change in mood, you lean up to him, reaching his ear. "Don't worry. I know that we can't. That you can't."

He looks down at you, meeting your gaze, reassured that you understand. He nods, smiling his gratitude that you understand. He can't have this seem in any way improper. He's set to take the bar. He's set to clerk for McGuire. However your quiet words have their desired effect, and he can feel himself relaxing, comfortably dancing with you in his arms.

As he continues to lead you around the dance floor, he's becoming convinced of one thing - if tonight is anything to go on, he's going to want to fulfill his end of the deal.

*------------*

After your cotillion, he'd gone back and started studying for the bar - head down night after night. He couldn't afford distractions.

He got a call the day you got your Harvard acceptance letter. You received a bouquet of dahlias and a shipment from Laduree the following day, much to the collective jealousy of every one of your dormmates.

The day he passed the New York state bar, you were his first phone call.

You were graduating. You were graduating and you would be an adult in the eyes of your families and the law. The two of you had already planned an entire summer country hopping across Southeast Asia with Julian in tow. John would be lying if he said he was anything less than ecstatic.

Julian had uncharacteristically offered to pick him up from Heathrow instead of simply sending a car. Assuming he wanted to talk through the details of the trip the three of you were headed out to the following week, John threw his bag into the back cheerfully and got into the passenger seat. Europe was the only place he trusted Julian to drive. Getting in the passenger seat with Julian at the wheel in the states was the equivalent of signing a death wish.

"How was the flight?" Julian asks, merging across the lanes and pissing off some cabbies on the way.

"Fine," John replies, taking stock of his friend. He hadn't seen Julian since the cotillion early in the year and he couldn't help but notice that Jules looked thinner. His already lanky frame was positively beanstalk-like. "What's been up with you?"

Julian glances at him quickly, before turning his attention back to the front. "Anthony and I broke up," he says quickly, as if simply trying to get it out of the way.

Well, that explained the weightloss. Julian was a true artist at his core. He insisted that pain was meant to be felt. "I'm sorry man. What happened?"

"He took me to meet the parents. Then he wanted to meet mine. We fought. He issued an ultimatum. Here we are."

John nods sympathetically. Telling the parents was out of the question. Neither of your families were the kind who would be supportive and understanding. Julian stood to lose quite a bit if he chose to be honest.

"Y/N noticed too," he says, referring to his own frame.

"You should tell her at least." This was an old discussion for them. John insisted that you should know. That you wouldn't care nor tell anyone. However, Julian's fear - fear of losing you and fear of being ousted - overpowered any rationale he was able to provide.

Julian shakes his head. "Pretty sure my father has got his claws deep in there by now. I just told her I was doing an experiment on the body's reaction to starvation in order to channel it into my new piece."

John breathes out a laugh at that. "She buy it?"

"No, but our family's good at the whole Don't Ask Don't Tell thing. Pretty sure she's got secrets of her own she doesn't want anyone to know."

He nods, feeling the guilty coil of lying to Julian rouse itself once again. He'd beat himself up about it quite a bit after he'd kissed you by the pool, knowing Julian would kick the absolute shit out of him if he knew. He might not be able to take John on physically, but it wasn't as though John would be fighting back exactly.

"Speaking of," Julian begins, his voice low and quiet, yet assertive in a manner that reminds John of your father and his, "we need to talk about her."

John crosses his eyes over to look at his friend, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He couldn't possibly know anything. "What about her?" he asks, doing his best to sound nonchalant.

"Don't do that with me man. You might think you're fooling the rest of the world, but you're talking to someone whose entire life is a lie. You think I don't know pining when I see it?" Julian sounds less angry than he should, John thinks. If anything he sounds resigned. Reluctant to be having this conversation at all.

"I'm sor -"

"It doesn't matter." Julian cuts him off. "I don't care if something happened. What I need you to do is promise me that nothing ever will."

"I don't - "

"Let me make it as plain as possible," Julian says, his mouth a straight line, hands gripped tight around the steering wheel. "It's me or her. You choose to pursue this thing, take it any further, then that's it. You'll have made your choice."

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. Never - not when he'd first kissed you, not when he'd danced with you, not when he'd dreamed of… - had he thought that there would be a chance of him being at this point. This awful point where he's forced to choose between you and Julian. How was he supposed to choose between his best friend and you - how could he possibly be expected to make that decision. He never thought Julian of all people would ask this of him. He expected a beating, a cold shoulder for a couple of days - but at the end he expected it to work out. How could it not?

"So you're issuing an ultimatum?" he asks, swallowing the anger he can feel bubbling underneath.

Julian doesn't even turn to look at him. "Yeah. I guess I am."

"Just because you're miserable, you're setting out to make everyone else around you feel the same way?" he asks, ugly malice coloring his voice as he turns to look away from Julian. He couldn't stand to look at him at this moment.

"Don't make this about something it isn't. I'm looking out for my baby sister. She deserves to have a college experience that isn't tied to some older guy that's only going to make her feel guilty about experiencing the same stuff he did, but tenfold."

"I wouldn't do that to her," John says quietly. He can't believe Julian would even think that about him. That he would in some way hold you back from having anything you wanted.

"You might not, but she'd do it to herself for you," he says quietly. John can see his hands tremble ever so slightly at the wheel.

"So that’s it?"

"Yeah." Julian breathes out a sigh and turns down the street towards your school. "That's it."

The rest of the car ride passes in tense silence.

You were valedictorian, the cord hanging down your neck signifying you as such. When you'd told him that, he'd asked if you were giving a speech but you'd told him you could care less about standing up in front of people you're unlikely to see again and talking about the wonderful experiences and memories - it rang of fakery and you hadn't wanted to end on such a false note. You'd excused yourself from consideration, so the class president gave the speech instead.

John sat with your family. Julian's words still rang in his head and he was finding it difficult to focus on much of anything. He followed everyone else's lead, clapping when appropriate, while his mind was miles away.

Once the ceremony was over, he sees you making your way through the crowd towards everyone - eyes shining, hat askew, hair flowing behind you, the largest smile he's ever seen firmly in place. You hug your parents first, then Julian.

"John!"

You approach him for a hug and he finds himself turning just barely to meet Julian's eyes. He hugs you from the side, arm loosely around your shoulders, eyes barely meeting yours - over before he knows it. Completely unlike any other hug the two of you have shared.

You let go slowly, the confusion clearly painted on your face as you look up at his face to figure out what was wrong. He sees you look from him, follow his gaze to Julian, and then back to him.

You know.

He's not sure how he gets through the celebration dinner afterwards. Words sit oddly in his mouth and he is mostly silent throughout. He can't keep himself from watching you. You're pretending everything is fine. It's your graduation and this should've been a good day. A happy day. And somehow he's pushed you into pretending.

It's late that night when there's a quiet knock at his door and the knob turns before he can say anything. He knows it’s you.

"Hey," you say, closing the door behind you. You're dressed in a little pajama set - navy blue with polka dots, the shorts covering you decently. It's cute, he finds himself thinking.

He gets up to sit at the edge of the bed, not trusting himself to say anything. He only watches as you walk and sit on the chair in the corner, instead of on the bed next to him, eyes trained on him.

"Julian said no, didn't he?" you ask, your voice smaller than he's used to.

He nods.

You're sitting so far away. He sees you swallow and look away from him.  It's quiet for a couple of minutes as you look out the window, processing what he's told you.

"Maybe it's for the best," you whisper, turning back to look at him.

How could the best be anything but you?

But it's his job to be the adult - to be the reasonable one. He can't deny that there's some merit to what Julian said even if he did do it as an ultimatum.

"You'll get to enjoy college. Live it up. Go to frat parties and get drunk and not worry about some older boyfriend waiting on you or judging you."

You laugh softly at that, rolling your eyes delicately. "Please. You and I both know that you'd just tag along."

He smiles. He would.

"You should date other people. You should experience love and heartbreak and all the stuff in between with someone who hasn't known you forever. It'll be new and exciting - you deserve to have a full college experience."

You agree. It makes sense. Especially given the completely different stages of life the two of you were about to embark on.

"Papa asked me to tag along with him this summer - he has some business in Europe and Latin America. I think I'm going to say yes. You and Julian go on the trip. It'll be good for you."

"It's your graduation trip," he protests.

You shrug. "There will be other trips. I think Julian needs you right now more than I do."

"What makes you say that?" he asks, eyebrow quirked in confusion. As far as he knew, Julian hadn't come clean to you yet.

"He said he broke up with some girl - Antoinette, I guess. He's seemed miserable lately and I think he's probably just heartbroken and miserable - he could use his best friend. His best friend who is there just for him."

He finds himself smiling in spite of himself. He's not sure he could've been this unselfish in your shoes. "Anyone ever tell you you're too mature for your age?"

You let out a soft breath of a laugh at that. "Have you met my family? Someone has to be."

He stands finally, walking to meet you at the chair. You look so incredibly small sitting there, that he finds himself kneeling down in front of you. You don't wait, simply launching yourself onto him - making up for the mediocre hug from earlier. You slip off of the chair, legs bent and splayed across his thighs as he catches you. It's all he can do to hold you tight against him, head buried in your hair, breathing you in.

You can feel his heart beating underneath as he holds you close to him. This wasn't how today was supposed to go. It should've been wonderful - the two of you, finally together after months of talking, teasing, overthinking - it should've been easy. He should've grabbed you in his arms in front of everyone and kissed you right then and there - it's how you'd imagined it would go all those nights laying in bed, listening to the sound of your dormmates snoring. That first kiss - that had been everything you'd needed then, the memory of it carrying you through the rest of the school year as you turned away boy after boy, content to live with the mere echo of that kiss reverberating through you.

High school was just something to get through. College was meant to be perfect, freedom, and John. John, who made everything else perfect by simply being there with you. John, who had been the reason you'd kept your head down and done everything asked of you - so that no one could hold anything against you when the inevitability of you and John materialized. The two of you had done everything right. You'd waited. You'd waited and waited until it could be proper, until it would be accepted. It had been torture and the only thing that had carried you through it had been the knowledge that one day very soon, you'd have him.

You can feel your eyes welling up as it really starts to sink in - this wasn't going to happen. You and John were not going to happen.

You shift slightly, moving back from where your head has been tucked into the crook of his neck while you straddle him on the floor. He looks at you, with his deep blue eyes threaded with strands of caramel, that never fail to imbue you with warmth. You reach up to touch his cheek, thumb grazing his cheekbone, feeling the little stubble that's started to appear. Your eyes leave his and roam to the pink of his lips and before you know it, you've leaned up, capturing them with yours. There is the barest of pauses, before his hold on you tightens exquisitely, pushing you up, closer to him, the barest of growls from the back of his throat as he deepens the kiss. This was entirely unlike your first kiss. John claimed your lips as though he couldn't bear to be apart from them for even a moment, his hands leaving tingles of sensation everywhere they went. You let go with a sharp gasp, and a soft moan escapes him that you can't help but want to taste, as you meet his mouth again, again, and again until you forget if the air you're breathing is even your own.

When you finally leave, it's with a quick goodbye, lips just barely pressed to his cheek. He finds himself reaching up to touch the spot on his face that you'd grazed, hoping to keep it there forever.

*------------*

Dominic had kept all the guys out late the previous night, fully invested in making the most of his final day as a bachelor. John had made it back in one piece, thankfully, but had awoken to a migraine. The water and painkillers left for him on the nightstand serving as his only solace.

He'd had the immense pleasure of meeting Matthew for the first time. He'd heard through the grapevine that you were dating some guy, but Matthew had not been what he expected at all. He was cocky, a showboat, and had an ego the size of Texas. If anything, Matthew was the exact opposite of the kind of guy he'd thought you'd ever date.

You'd come back from college for the weekend wedding, Matthew in tow. The rest of your family was busy with last minute wedding stuff, so John had been tasked with greeting everyone. The Costello family had sent Frank Costello's son to represent the family, and as he happened to go to school with you, he'd also tagged along. You'd walked in, your face scrunched up in exasperation, the two boys trailing behind with the luggage. You'd hugged him quickly before introducing both of the boys, and John had had to control the flash of anger he felt when Matthew wrapped a meaty arm around your waist, squeezing it tight, and hinted at the two of you going to take a nap. You'd seemed a little embarrassed, and tried to laugh it off, but John could tell that had made you uncomfortable.

As you all start to walk down the hallway towards the rooms he's pointed everyone to, Ricky lingers, meeting his eye briefly. "If you're wondering what she sees in him, you're not alone," he says under his breath so only John can hear.

He had a feeling him and Ricky would get along just fine.

His initial impression of Matthew was only confirmed later during the bachelor party that had gone on far too late. He'd told Dominic and Julian that he'd stay more or less sober to make sure there weren't any issues, and had found himself nursing a drink off to the side with Julian and Ricky, watching the women dancing up on the stage. Him and Julian had tried to push for a poker and steak bachelor party, but Dom had gone and rented out an entire burlesque club. The night had simply gone downhill from there, and John was convinced that if any of the wives or girlfriends knew what took place there, there would be more than a couple of broken relationships.

Julian excuses himself after a while, stating the need to grab a smoke, so John is left with Ricky who had turned out to be a good egg. Why couldn't you have dated him? That he could've understood.

Both him and Ricky had looked up as Matthew walks past them, led by some girl. Matthew sees the two of them staring at him. "You'd do it too if your girlfriend didn't put out either," he'd slurred, half drunk as the girl continued to lead him towards the private rooms in the back.

John shares a look of with Ricky. "Good for her," Ricky mutters, his jaw tight, indicating at the bartender for another drink.

Nodding to where they'd seen Matthew disappear, Johns asks, "Is that normal?"

"Couldn't tell you," Ricky replies, "We aren't exactly close. I hear things, but don't really know what to believe."

John forces himself to take a deep breath and remember that it wasn't any of his business to interfere with your relationship. You were an adult and could handle it. If this is how Matthew is, then he doubted you were entirely unaware. He really hoped you weren't. However, that begged the question - why on earth were you with this guy?

He'd gotten dressed in the grey suit that the groomsmen were wearing and gone downstairs to grab breakfast. The ceremony would be taking place in the afternoon, and the entire place was a flurry of activity. He caught a glimpse of you racing down the hallway in a robe, calling out to him to make sure that Dom and Julian were up and ready.

After he'd gone through each guy's room and made sure the entire bridal party was accounted for, he'd ended up doing a couple more last minute things that Katie's mother asked of him. With only an hour before the ceremony, John made his escape, leaving Julian in charge of Dom. He needs a breather.

He finds himself on the upstairs balcony, overlooking the large grass lawn where the chairs are assembled and guests would be arriving soon. Taking out a cigarette, he lights it and takes a drag, feeling his shoulders untense for the first time since he's woken up.

"Are you hiding?"

He turns at the sound of your voice. You're dressed in a blush pink gown that flows to the ground, hair done up - a couple of strands framing your face. You're smiling, the soft smile that graces your face and the sparkle that enters your eyes - the smile he knows that you save for him.

"Hey Cap. What're you doing here?" he asks, smiling softly at you, as you walk towards him.

"Needed a break," you admit. "Katie's great, but her sorority sisters are a bit too much energy for me right now."

He lets out a chuckle at that.

You reach him, grabbing the cigarette easily out of his hand, and bring it to your own lips as you lean against the pillar in front of him with an air of ease.

"How was last night?" you ask him, letting out a puff of smoke, before passing it back to him.

He thinks about your question. Should he warn you about Matthew? Was it his place to do that? He should, he thinks - he'd want to know if he was in your shoes. You deserved to have someone better.

He feels you nudge him, as you shift to lean over the balcony by his side. You're looking at him in question as he's been silent since you asked.

"If I say something, promise not to take it the wrong way?" he asks, hesitation layered in his voice.

Your brow furrows slightly, but you nod, prompting him to go on.

"Matthew - do you like him?"

"Why're you asking me that?"

John swallows as he looks down at you next to him with your eyes narrowed slightly. "He's not as…discreet as he should be," he manages out, doing his best to convey his concern but still keep it polite.

You barely react at that. You either know or don't care and he's willing to bet it’s the former - you would definitely care to have a partner that was considerate and tactful rather than one whose words and actions were circumspect in the public eye.

"Did he say something specific that has you concerned?" You don't meet his eyes, turning to look out at the lawn, where ushers are starting to seat some early guests.

John shifts a bit on his feet, unsure of how to phrase it. "He - um - he said something about you not putting out," he blurts out, stuttering through it like some prepubescent boy. He really shouldn't be feeling quite so awkward about this, and yet he does.

He hears you sigh - then feels you slump slightly and he turns and looks at you, relieved you aren't upset with him and worried all over again because you just look sad.

"I'm just not ready," you confess, looking up at him.

He shakes his head. "You don't owe me an explanation. I just thought you'd want to know, that's all."

You nod, eyes shifting from his, down to the ground.

It's quiet for a bit as the two of you pass the cigarette back and forth, watching more guests arrive and take their seats.

"Do you even like this guy?" he asks, unable to help himself from repeating his initial question. You hadn't answered it really.

You let out the barest of laughs, a sad smile settling on your face as you turn your head to look at him. "He's not you."

John feels his heart clench. The two of you didn't talk about it anymore, having swept it under the rug for Julian's sake and to maintain a semblance of normalcy for everyone else.

"We should go," you say before he has a chance to speak. "Katie will want us both there for pictures soon." You shake your head slightly as if to clear it, and he sees you force a larger smile to your face before you reach for his hand, leading him back inside.

Your hand feels incredibly small in his and he allows himself to be led by you.

The two of you walked down the aisle together, your hand tucked into his elbow, a bouquet held in the other.

He watched you dance late into the night. You danced with everyone - Julian, Ricky, and him, both Dom and Katie, your father and his.

He knocks back his drink as the musicians call for the final song of the night. You and Matthew sway together, your hair still perfectly in place, head rested on Matthew's shoulder, heels long ago shed off and forgotten under some table.

The music swells around him as he drinks slowly. He missed you. He didn't just miss you when he was alone. He missed you when he was surrounded by people. He missed your laugh through the din of laughter. He missed your smile amongst the sea of smiling faces. He missed the little jokes you'd make that were meant just for him. He missed the way your hand would squeeze his out of the blue, reminding him that it was your hand held tightly in his. He missed your very essence that used to bathe him in the feeling of light and air and you. Overwhelmingly you. Extensively you. You had saturated his very being with your presence.

Now, he simply felt bereft.

*------------*

Everyone had just sat down to Thanksgiving dinner at the van Dorens' place - John's parents had been invited to his mother's side of the family and John had begged off spending another holiday with the grandparents he couldn't stand. Say what you would about your families, at least they could have fun and relax when the occasion called for it. He'd instead coordinated his vacation with Julian's return and found himself tagging along to dinner at your boyfriend's parents' home.

That had not been the original plan. Him and Julian had gotten in the day before, however you'd been delayed on campus and hadn't made it back until Thanksgiving morning. You'd walked in, your skirt breezing around your legs, looking every bit as beautiful as ever. You'd greeted everyone and when you'd hugged him hello, you'd held it for a second longer than expected. "Can we talk tonight, after dinner?" you had asked, your voice low so that no one else could've heard. He'd nodded subtly, covering it up with a smile, as everyone sat down to breakfast. That was when your mother had announced that you'd all be going to the van Doren house for Thanksgiving dinner. That was news to everyone - even you, it would appear. You clearly hadn't known that dinner would be hosted at Matthew's home. You'd asked your mother when that had happened, however she'd insisted that that had always been the plan and that you and Julian must've forgotten. That was how he'd found himself seated next to Julian and across from you at the van Doren home. Had he known this would be where he'd end up tonight, he would've suffered through another retelling of his grandfather's World War II recollections about taking down the "Japs". It didn't matter how often John said you couldn't talk like that anymore - his political correctness fell on deaf ears.

The van Dorens had now been present for a few events over the past two years since Dominic and Katie's wedding, yet John hadn't warmed up to Matthew at all in that time. He would've thought he was being biased about it, but Julian didn't like him either and made no effort to be discreet with his distaste of the boy. He wasn't even a boy really. He'd swooped in on an eighteen year old while being a fifth year senior. The guy was barely a couple of years younger than him. John and Julian had both took the mickey out of you when he hadn't managed to get into any decent law school and had to bribe his way into Boston's program because he'd wanted to stay nearby. John was of the opinion that Matthew knew very well that he wouldn't last through anything long distance with you - there'd be far too many options available at your fingertips without his meatball self standing in the way.

A pregnant Katie - who was absolutely glowing - was seated next to you, the two of you chatting about her upcoming baby shower. He'd watched earlier over cocktails, as you touched Katie's stomach gingerly - as though worried you'd hurt her - with the softest of smiles and your eyes widened in awe. It appeared you and Dominic were finally getting along with one another, as you were planning on spending part of your winter holidays with him and Katie out in California.

"John, I heard from Agnes Mayweather that you and Cecelia have been seeing one another again. How is that going?"

John looks up at your mother's question and notes your look of slight surprise. He hadn't yet told you that he had started seeing Cece again - it hadn't been that long and it simply hadn't come up organically in conversation yet. Since his move from DC to New York, he'd been looking for old friends to hang out with, and him and Cece had simply fallen together again easily.

"It's good," he responds with a smile. "Her family does Thanksgiving in Europe every year, so that's where she is right now."

"Who's Cece?" Katie asks, a smile on her face, eyes curious. In her entire time with Dom, she had never seen John mention a girl with any semblance of seriousness.

"His date for cotillion," you supply, a bemused expression on your face. John's not sure what to make of it exactly - were you upset he hadn't told you he was dating someone? Or dating Cece? As far as he knew, you and Cece got along just fine, in the limited interactions you'd had together.

"You must've been like - what - eight or nine then?" Matthew asks from your other side, putting his arm around the back of your chair.

"She was nine, yeah. Only person under the age of sixteen who was even allowed to attend," John says, a small smile on his face as he remembers the sight of your nine year old self, sitting at a table all alone, eating cake and watching everyone else dance.

"You always have liked doing all the grown up things, haven't you?" Matthew comments with a short laugh as you roll your eyes, yet allow him to grab your hand that's been resting on the table.

One day, John hopes that seeing someone else have and hold you won't cause that sharp stabbing feeling in his chest. One day could not come fast enough.

The dinner continues and the drinks flow, the food transitioning from turkey and mashed potatoes, to pies and pastries. He sees the large tray of tiramisu you'd brought with you, and grabs a large square for himself. To say he was addicted would be selling it short. You and Matthew both had a slice of his mother's pumpkin pie in front of you. Funny - he thought you hated pumpkin pie.

The sudden clinking of silverware against glass catches everyone's attention, and John turns to look at Matthew, who is standing, wine glass raised as though to make a toast. Every single person turns to him as well, and John can't help but notice your slightly furrowed brow as you look up at him.

"Thank you all, for being here today," Matthew begins in a booming voice that carries across the long table. "I want to take the chance today and appreciate the woman who has been by my side these past few years, the most beautiful woman I've ever known." All eyes turn to you, and your face has colored under the attention, as Matthew continues. "The day I run for Congress, I want you to be the woman standing behind me, supporting me. Y/N, darling, will you make me the happiest man in the world, by saying yes to being my bride?" he asks, a ring in hand as he looks down at you expectantly.

A tense buzz of silence has fallen across the table at the conclusion of Matthew's speech. You appear to be in shock and he can't tell if it's a good surprise or bad. Julian won't meet his eyes, looking only down at his lap instead of across at you. And, if John isn't mistaken, he sees your father nod imperceptibly so, out of the corner of his eye.

You nod shakily, before a large smile breaks out on your face. "Yes, of course." John watches as Matthew pulls you up out of the chair, pushing the ring onto your finger, and presses a kiss to your lips in front of everyone, as the rest of the table breaks out into excited cheers or claps. John can't believe what just happened. You were only twenty one years old! He couldn't believe you'd agreed to marry Matthew of all people - the guy who had proposed by asking you to stand behind him while he ran for Congress. What the hell was wrong with you?

He turns to look at Julian while the rest of the party offers both you and Matthew their congratulations, Katie examines the giant gaudy ring on your finger, and your mother cries, patting her tears away with a handkerchief. Julian, however, has disappeared in the commotion, and John is left to sit there and take in the new state of the world before him.

It is late that night by the time everyone returns to your family home. There had been a lot of people gushing at you and Matthew, a lot of photographs, however at the end of the day you'd chosen to come home with the rest of them. Your parents weren't particularly keen on you spending the night at your fiancé's home due to the optics, even though everyone of course turned the other way and didn't ask any questions when the two of you traveled together.

Your parents had retired to bed nearly immediately, both of them hugging you and telling you how very proud and happy they were due to your engagement. The rest of you had ended up in the study, where Dom and Katie talked to you about potential wedding venues in the Napa Valley. John listened along and added in comments passively, trying to cover for how completely disengaged Julian was from the conversation. Eventually, the two of them left to go to bed as well, Dom helping his wife up and out of the study, shutting the door behind, leaving just you, John, and Julian in the room.

It's quiet for a while as you get up to fix yourself another drink, eyebrow raised in question at the both of them. John shook his head. He wanted to stick to the single drink he'd been nursing since he had sat down. Julian hadn't noticed your question, having stared straight out the window, to the pool in the backyard.

"Are you really going to marry him?" Julian asks, turning away from the window to face you, breaking the silence.

You appear taken aback as you turn from the bar cart, having poured yourself a vodka soda. "What kind of question is that?"

"A serious one. Tell me honestly, that if he hadn't asked you at Thanksgiving dinner in front of everyone - if he'd asked you last week at school or after the two of you got back to Boston - tell me you would've still said yes then." Julian's turned to face you, both his voice and face intensely directed at you as you're perched on the arm of the chair next to John.

He sees you falter and cover it up by taking a sip of your drink. "I don't know. Who knows what would have happened. I said yes - that's what actually happened. What matters," you reply with a definitive set to your voice, unable to look Julian in the eye for longer than a second.

John turns to you fully. That wasn't the right answer to that question - it should've been an enthusiastic, no holds barred yes. Instead it was…whatever that was.

"You know his mother flinches whenever his father walks by her, right?" Julian asks, exchanging a look with John as he does. They'd talked about that before, how Mrs. van Doren seems terrified of her husband in a manner entirely unfamiliar to the both of them. Their mothers didn't cower from their fathers that way.

You appraise them both before you speak. "I'm not her and Matthew is not his father," you state firmly. "That is my future family, and you shouldn't speak about them like that," you declare, as though trying to steer the conversation to a close. John can tell you'd been aware of that - you've always been fairly observant so he isn't entirely surprised.

Julian stands up all of a sudden, causing both of you to look at him curiously. He walks to the window, looking out at the backyard before he speaks again. "You do realize that the dinner with the van Dorens - Mother lied. That wasn't always the plan. It only became the plan yesterday because it was decided that Matthew would propose to you tonight."

"Okay…so what? My boyfriend decided to propose to me. What's the big deal?" Both you and John look at one another in confusion, and then at Julian, prompting him to speak further.

"Did you notice that Papa and Mr. van Doren went off to his study for drinks afterwards? That Dom wasn't invited?" Julian asks, head still facing the backyard.

You stand up, setting your drink down on the table, and cross your arms over your chest. "What're you getting at Julian? Just come right out and say whatever it is you're trying to say."

Julian turns away from the window finally, instead choosing to lean against it, facing you. "He made the Singapore deal with them. With the van Dorens. Matthew proposing to you was part of the exchange."

There's a tense silence and John can hear you take a sharp inhale as you process what Julian had just revealed. "The only reason he'd need the van Dorens for Singapore is if - is if you said no to the Waldorf girl," you speak hesitantly, your breathing more shallow than before. John notices your hand twist the ring around your finger.

Julian says nothing.

"You said no? Why would you do that?" You slowly walk towards Julian, where he still stands near the window. John feels like he should leave, but there really wasn't an easy way to do that now. "This is the third girl Julian," you continue softly. "Mother and Papa wouldn't set you up with someone awful. They'd find someone who would be there for you, by your side."

Julian scoffs, brushing past you and going to stand at the other side of the room, opposite you, his face contorted with disbelief. "That's what you're focused on? The fact that I said no? Not the fact that your father SOLD you?" he yells suddenly, and John worries someone in the house will wake up and overhear this conversation.

You look as though he'd slapped you. "Don't - don't say it like that." Your voice breaks pathetically, and John has the immediate urge to tell off Julian for talking to you that way. But he knows better. He should stay out of it. In truth, he really shouldn't be present at all.

"How else am I supposed to phrase it?" Julian sneers at you, throwing his arms up. "He sold you like you were property - like a whore he could pimp out to sweeten to pot. Is that better?" he spits out, fully enraged and pacing towards you.

John pushes up from his seat quickly, fully set to calm Julian down and get him away from you. This wasn't the way to do this, even if Julian was telling the truth. He's stopped however, but your hand grasping his wrist. He turns and sees you shake your head.

Julian turns to look at the both of you, his eyes focused on where your hand is wrapped around John's wrist. "What about John?" he asks, his eyes shifting down, away from you. "Thought you wanted to end up with him one day," he says, gesturing at your joined hands.

You let go of John's wrist as though it had scalded you. There's a charged silence ringing in his ears and John cannot believe Julian had brought that up. It had been four long years and you'd both tried very hard to move past it. John's suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. How had they come to this? It should have been about helping you see that maybe Matthew wasn't entirely right - how had his name gotten dragged into it?

Your jaw has dropped as you look at Julian, eyes widened in shock. You let out a breath of disbelief, shaking your head, at a complete loss for words. The three of you did not talk about that, ever. You and Julian especially had never even acknowledged it.

You open your mouth to say something, but John beats you to it. "What the hell, man." He's looking at Julian in complete shock is heart racing - the two of them had never talked about it afterwards save for that one drunken night in Barcelona when Julian had apologized for being selfish and wanting to have his friend all to himself. John had ended up reassuring him that the two of you had made the decision together, and the timing of it all, the different stages of life you had been about to embark on, all would've made things too difficult. Had things not worked out between the two of you due to the circumstances alone - neither one of you could bear to do that to the other. What Julian had done was likely for the best. Julian hadn't remembered any part of the conversation the following morning.

Julian appears slightly ashamed as he is unable to meet both of your eyes, realizing that he'd crossed a line.

You're trying very hard to maintain your composure and John can see the shimmer of tears glazing your eyes. It's quiet for a moment more as he watches you gather your wits about you, your hands shaking ever so slightly, the only sound in the room coming from both your forced controlled breathing and Julian's erratic ones.

"Let me make something perfectly clear to you," you grit out, eyes fiery and blazing at Julian. "You, of all people, do not get to throw that in my face. You made your decision four years ago, and so did we." Your voice is cold and John feels a shiver run through him at a cold fury that isn't even directed fully at him. You look from Julian, to John, who meets your eyes for barely a second, before looking away. You'd both chosen Julian over one another.

Julian looks only at the ground.

What had been the point of Julian saying no to the two of you four years ago if he was going to suddenly be alright with it in the face of you marrying Matthew? However, it seemed as though you didn't even care about that - you'd simply brushed past it already and John is left reeling, thinking through the implications of what both you and Julian had put out there. Julian didn't care. Unfortunately for him, it appeared neither did you.

"If you'd just say yes - " he hears your voice again, through the din in his head that is trying to make sense of everything,  as you carry on, still intent on talking to Julian, intent on ignoring what he'd just brought up as if it meant so little. John isn't sure how you possibly could ignore it - he hasn't been able to think of anything else since, Julian's words echoing over and over in his brain.

"To marrying someone I do not love? For some business deal? Ruin my life for that?" he roars at you snapping out of his silent shame, swiping his hand across one of the end tables and sliding the old lamp off of it. The three of you watch as it crashes to the floor and breaks, emitting a crash. You flinch when it hits the floor.

John turns to you and there are silent tears streaming down your face as you stare at Julian in utter shock. It's gone too far - this whole thing. John feels like a voyeur - like he's intruding on his parents breaking up or something.

"For the family!" you scream, your voice a whispered shout as you're still mindful of how late it is. Far more so than Julian had been. "You do it for the family Julian! I did it for you when I gave you John, because you needed him. You were asked to do something that helps the family, you should've just done it. You don't just run away and ignore all responsibility and obligation. You step up, be a man, and do what's asked of you."

Julian looks at you with disgust coloring his features. "Well excuse me if I have a little more self respect than that," he says, entirely bypassing what you'd said about John as though you had never even said it at all. It was as though he didn't even care - didn't realize - how awful and heartbreaking of a sacrifice he'd forced upon you. And yet, you'd done it - for him.

You look away from him, and John can feel the frustration and anger cascading off of you in waves, tinged by something else he can't quite discern, but he thinks it might be…fear. "How much longer do you expect Papa to let you get away with this? He isn't exactly known for being patient. Sooner or later there will be repercussions. He's been lenient long enough." Your voice is hoarse as you swallow your tears and fury.

You're all aware of your father's reputation - cold, calculating, and merciless. You all know the kind of person Julian was choosing to challenge and while his wrath towards his children had its limits, it had quite a stretch of runway before it reached its end. Julian was playing with fire by continuing on his current path.

Julian appraises you and appears to consider your words, before his eyes land on the large ring adorning your hand, reinvigorating the fight within him. "Then I suppose I'll wait till that day. Until then, I won't just lie down and spread my legs for whomever," he jeers at you.

"Enough." John's finally reached his limit with the entire argument, his jaw clenched tightly and a thunder-struck expression marring the rest of his features as he fully comprehends how far Julian has strayed. "You can't talk to her that way," he states firmly, positioning himself between the two of you.

Julian looks at him, a manic glint in his eyes. A derisive laugh escapes him, bouncing off the walls. "Didn't realize she still did it for you. Isn't twenty one a little old for your tastes?"

"FUCK OFF, Julian." You can scarcely believe him. How could he talk to John like that?

"With pleasure," he scoffs, looking from you, to John, and then turns the knob on the door and slams it shut behind him, leaving just you and John standing in the study by yourselves.

John watches as you pull yourself together. He wants to go to you and hold you and tell you that Julian was just being a dick. But part of him agrees with Julian - especially if he's telling the truth about how it all came together. Part of him also feels the sting of what Julian implied about him despite how untrue it is. So he holds himself apart as the two of you stare at one another in the wake of the deafening silence left behind by Julian's exit.

John watches as you wipe away the remaining tears and bend to gather the broken pieces of the lamp, sweeping away the evidence of Julian's rage. You walk and grab the lamp sitting in the far corner of the room, replacing the broken one. John can do nothing but watch.

"Why did you say yes?" he asks finally, unable to stop himself.

You blink, not having expected that from him and he watches as you bite your lower lip between your teeth, quietly thinking over his question, your fingers twisting the ring around your finger in earnest. Your tongue pokes out and licks the spot your teeth had worried moments earlier. He feels entirely scrutinized under your gaze. With a short exhale, you answer, "Because he asked."

Before he can say anything more, you've followed Julian's example and walked out the door, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the study.

He never did find out what it had been that you'd wanted to talk to him about after dinner. The next morning it was as though nothing had transpired at all. You and Julian weren't speaking, and John found he had very little to say himself.

*------------*

Julian had flown out to Boston the week after you'd left. John had figured the two of you would make up eventually, and he was glad he hadn't been wrong about that, though he and Julian had argued once again about him simply telling you the truth of why he kept turning away set ups with women. Julian was staunchly against it still, even more so now that you'd agreed to marry Matthew and didn't appear to be wavering in your decision at all. The two of them simply didn't address anything else Julian had said, and John decided that was likely for the best.

The holidays had passed uneventfully - he'd spent it mostly with Cece, only seeing you and Julian the day after Christmas when everyone gathered at your parents' home to exchange presents and for everyone to meet baby Amara. He watched as you sat in the large chair in the living room, holding Amara in your hands as she slept, Matthew perched on the arm of the chair. He can't help but smile - you'd be a good mother, even if yours hadn't been.

The call regarding Julian's death had come in mid-February, Dom on the other end telling him that Julian had been victim to a mugging gone wrong. The funeral had been held back in Connecticut, Julian's body shipped back. Your parents had opted for a closed casket, so John was left to remember December 26th - the last time he'd seen his best friend in person.

His eyes searched for you at the funeral, and when he saw you, it was as though you weren't even there. Your father had been the one to stand and speak - he would've thought it would be you. Julian would've preferred that, he was sure. He'd gone through the line of people offering their condolences robotically, inching along behind his father. As he approached, he sees your eyes look up - first at his father, who hugs you quickly, and then at him. He can't move. He's frozen. He sees your lower lip tremble - he hadn't yet seen you shed a single tear - you'd stood stoically by to your parents the entire prior hour and a half that he'd observed you.

It's as though he moves on autopilot, his hand reaching out for yours - it was good that he had, as you had nearly tripped forward into him, your arms wrapped tiredly around his shoulders. He's quick to usher you away, into the back room where Sunday School classes are typically held.

Your body shakes against him in silent sobs as tears cascade down. He's unsure how, but the two of you had ended up on the brightly patterned carpet of the classroom, his legs spread out in front of him and you're situated on his lap as close to his chest as possible as your body is wracked with sobs. He clutches you tightly to him, holding you close and allowing you to fall apart the way you needed to. He'd hold it together for the both of you.

When his mother peaks in to the room, he signals her away. It was likely due to her that no one else bothers the two of you again. You say nothing and neither does he. When you finally calm down, his fingers brush away the remaining tears on your face and he feels you reach up and do the same to him. He hadn't realized he'd cried as well.

He helps you up and the two of you walk out. He watches as you approach Matthew, who wraps an arm around your shoulder and looks at him with what could almost be classified as gratitude. Matthew wasn't equipped to deal with this.

*------------*

He hears you'd been in an accident only a month or so afterwards. He's in the middle of a deposition and unable to go in person. He hears from his mother that you'd gone through some surgery but were otherwise alright. There was something in her voice that gave him some pause, but he hadn't had the time to press further.

He sent a bouquet of dahlias along with a Get Well Soon card.

*------------*

You're set to graduate and he's not sure if he should go. His father had asked him over a few weeks prior and told him that Julian's death hadn't been accidental. He didn't know what to believe anymore.

He doesn't go. He's not quite ready to see you again yet.

Julian was dead. What was there really to do?

*------------*

"So eventually, the guy calms down enough after I explain that the fire alarm on the gallery wall wasn't an art piece and not for sale, but only after he made poor Lucille cry, can you believe it?"

John laughs, shaking his head. "Lucille's easy to make cry though, you have to admit." he says, handing Cece the glass of wine he'd just poured.

She laughs, and is about to launch into another story, as the doorbell rings. "I'll get it," she says, leaving him in the kitchen to finish loading the dishwasher.

A minute or so later, he hears footsteps and turns to see Cece, followed by you. He hadn't seen you since Julian's funeral, and there you stood in his kitchen, entirely soaked from the rain outside, having dripped water on the floors on your way in.

"Y/N said she needed to speak with you," Cece supplies, breaking him out of the stupor his brain had entered at the sight of you. "I think I'm going to head out, let the two of you talk."

John simply nods, not thinking to ask her to stay or even thank her. The two of you stare at one another, and he finds himself entirely uncomfortable being alone with you, for the very first time.

"Let me grab you a towel," he manages, indicating you towards the couch in the living room. He walks to the linens cabinet in the back and by the time he returns, you've shed your jacket and are facing away from him in a light tank top, revealing your shoulders and a large fading bruise off to one side.

He wordlessly hands you the towel and watches as you squeeze the water out of your hair, wet tendrils clinging to the side of your face. You still haven't spoken a single word and he finds himself at a loss to say much of anything. He knows you graduated a couple of weeks prior and he knows his father had attended, not wanting to miss his god daughter's graduation ceremony. He wonders briefly if his father had decided to enlighten you as to the true nature of Julian's death, and comes to the conclusion that he had. Why else would you be there?

"How'd that happen?" he asks, breaking the silence as you had turned away from him to slip out of your boots, indicating towards the bruise he'd seen.

You look over your shoulder at him with your eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't worry about it." you reply, turning around and holding up your hand, showing him your empty ring finger. "Waited till Singapore was a done deal, and I ended it."

John lets out a deep breath of disbelief. Matthew had hurt you so much that you had a bruise traversing the length of your upper back. What the hell had he done to you? He can feel the rage and surge of protectiveness that he typically feels around you, storming in his head, and as though you could sense his shift, you place a feather light touch to his arm. "It's alright. I'm fine. Ricky already broke his nose."

That doesn't cause him to worry any less whatsoever. Things had been so bad that Ricky had broken the bastard's nose. A rogue snort escapes him regardless, as he tries to calm himself. Now wasn't the time to get riled up about Matthew - especially if he was history. "Always did like that Ricky kid," he says instead, in an attempt to not slip back into silence. The silence had been wildly uncomfortable and now that it had been broken, he was intent on keeping it that way.

You're toweling off your wet hair as you watch him, your eyes appraising him and then turning to look around at his place. He saw his loft through your eyes - the exposed brick and open floorplan. His bed off to the other side, sheets still rumpled from when Cece had been over. It had been his attempt to tone down his lifestyle - girls got odd ideas when he'd take them back to the company owned apartment he'd stayed in the first couple of months after his internship wrapped with McGuire.

"Really bought into the whole Brooklyn hipster thing, didn't you?" you say, your tone colored with a hint of humor he hadn't expected.

John lets out a half laugh, knowing it wasn't quite your taste. Whatever had brought you to his door despite the pouring rain outside seemed far away at the moment.

"You want something to drink? Eat?" he asks, gesturing you over to the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of water and sets it on the counter for you.

You follow, hopping onto the island as he busies himself with putting the dishes away again, knowing you'll talk once you're ready. It's quiet for a couple of minutes - the only sounds coming from the rain outside and the movement from him working his way through the rest of the load. He looks outside, feeling a small bit of guilt for letting Cece leave in this weather. He'd have to make it up to her later.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask finally, as he puts the final plate in and shuts the dishwasher.

The question finally vocalized was far less angry than anticipated. He’d expected fury and rage raining down upon him for keeping the truth from you. He’d expected having to beg for your forgiveness. This quiet line of questioning felt alarmingly wrong to him. John turns, leaning against the opposite counter, his shoulders hunched together, arms crossed in front of his chest. You're still seated on the island, legs dangling, palms pressed into the granite, knuckles tensed around the edge. He looks up to meet your eyes and his voice catches as he does - you've dropped the veil you'd worn when you first arrived, revealing the unbridled pain underneath. Glassy eyes follow his, searching for some sort of answer - some explanation that would help make sense of your world that had been turned upside down.

"I -," he sighs deep, trying to gather his thoughts all together but they keep slipping out of his hands like sand. "I didn't think you'd - you'd believe me or what good it would do," he manages out, unable to look up at you, instead settling for fixing his gaze to where Matthew's ring used to sit. There was still a white ring there, the surrounding skin a couple of shades darker.

You're silent in the face of his confession. He hadn't wanted to be the one to turn your life upside down. He hadn't wanted to be the reason you questioned everything. He should've. He knows that. He'd been a coward, running away from it all. Unwilling to shoulder the responsibility of the fall out. He can't help but feel like he's joined the list of men who have completely let you down.

“Did you know - did you always know ab - about Julian?” you ask, eyes downcast as you struggle to put your question into words.

John can imagine the hurt you must’ve felt when you finally learned Julian’s life long secret. How that must have eaten away at you, made you question what you’d done to frighten Julian into never telling you. How many puzzle pieces must have fallen together - the fact that Julian never once brought home a girl, how he never once expressed interest in anyone openly, every refusal to marry. He knows how your fight with Julian must haunt you now - knowing the full context of his actions. Agreeing to marry a woman your parents set him up with - any woman - would have killed his spirit entirely.

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, meeting your eyes as he does.

You let out a breath and he sees your shoulders slump as you look away from him, trying to hide the tears in your eyes from him. You were never quite that good at hiding things from him, however. Your lips part as though you wish to say something or ask something, but appear to think better of it, shaking your head as you do. John’s uncertain where this hesitation in you is coming from. There should be a barrage of questions being hurled at him right now - not the two questions he’s gotten so far. Nothing about this feels right to him.

Your hair has started to curl slightly as it dries, forming waves around your face, and he's tempted to push the hair behind your ears, out of your face because he knows how that bothers you.

"What now?" he asks, unable to linger in the silence any longer.

You shake your head as you look at him, releasing a long held sigh. "I have no idea. I cashed out the trust fund and deferred law school. By now Matthew must've told them that I ended things. I haven't heard anything from anyone." The lack of response must be killing you, he knows. Perpetually waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He nods. Letting Singapore go through uninterrupted probably helped - it would buy you time if nothing else. He doubts your father thinks you know the truth about Julian. More than likely, it'll be chalked up to nerves or rebellion - maybe even grief.

You hop off of the island, landing right in front of him and he resists the urge to reach out and steady you on your feet. "Thank you. I should go. Tell Cece I'm sorry for interrupting," you say, throwing a half apologetic smile his way over your shoulder.

You walk back to the couch, and he follows, watching you lean down and pull your shoes back on.

His brow scrunches up in concern. You were leaving already? "Where are you going to go?" he asks, watching you apprehensively. That was it? Why even bother coming then?

"Not sure yet. I'll see you around," you reply over your shoulder, shrugging your jacket back on.

With that, you're gone as quickly as you came, and he's left feeling off kilter, staring around his apartment, wondering if you'd been some sort of hallucination. A fever dream borne of a guilty mind that hadn’t felt at peace in a very long time.

*------------*

He didn't hear from you again for a couple of months. The next he even heard of you was in the gossip magazines that Cece had brought over to his apartment to read on Sunday mornings while he cooked them both breakfast. She showed him photographs of you wearing skimpy dresses, escorted by pretty boy model types at every club in the city.

Through the grapevine - and he was guilty of using Cece to get the inside track on everything - he finds out that you'd moved into an apartment in the Upper East Side and had made it your goal to be the most notorious party girl the city's ever seen. It's in complete contrast to the low profile you typically keep and he sees it for what it is - a bizarre attempt at drawing attention to yourself. To what end, he could only guess at.

Another month in, and he gets a drunken call from you, providing him the name of some pub that is decidedly low brow - nothing like the clubs and speakeasies you're known to haunt. He arrives to find you seated at the bar, your short dress hiked up past the point of decency, nearly passed out. He finds out where you live and helps you to your place, depositing you on your couch. The guys at the front desk had him in their system already it seemed, and he'd been waved up rather quickly as he carried your limp form.

He leaves you there as he has work the following morning, and taking care of twenty two year old socialites isn't something he has the time or energy to do, even if it is you. It's as though he can feel himself being sucked into your tornado and he's digging his heels in, determined to stay away. He knows that if he gives in, that'll be it. You'll take over his life, his breath, his soul all over again and it had taken far too much out of him to escape the first time.

*------------*

Cece asks him if he's spoken to you recently. Apparently, you've been getting somewhat of a reputation. She heard from her contacts in the art world that you'd been frequenting some pill parties and it was only a matter of time before the tabloids got a hold of it.

There's a growing pit in his stomach anytime you come up, anytime he sees your face on the cover of a paper as he buys coffee, anytime something small reminds him of you. You're both in Manhattan every day. You're never more than a dozen miles away from him. Yet, what's he supposed to do really? He's not your caretaker. You're an adult. The worst thing in the world had happened and you're coping with it just as he had coped with it.

Despite that, he knows this isn't really you - not how you typically cope. You're entirely mission oriented and your way of dealing with things usually comes in the form of finding something new to conquer, something new to be good at, something new to distract yourself with. This is the first time he's seen you latch onto something destructive just to keep going on.

*------------*

"Do you think it hurt, when he died?"

John blinks, still trying to make sense of what was going on. He had been woken by the shrill ringtone he had set just for you, to make sure he'd never miss a call, and as his eyes settle on the clock on the nightstand, he realizes that it's past three in the morning. His heart is beating really fast, having been startled awake harshly and his brain struggles to close the gap between dreams and reality.

"What?"

"Julian, when he died. Do you think it was fast? Was it painless? Or do you think it was drawn out? Knowing Papa, I feel like he would've drawn it out. Don't you?"

He feels the hair on the back of his neck stand at your voice and your words. At what they're implying. There’s a nearly hauntingly playful quality to your voice that gives him chills.

"Where are you?" he asks, his heart thudding in his chest still, your words ringing in his ears, and his stomach clenching over and over doing somersaults. Something's wrong. He can feel it in his bones. Something is very wrong.

"Home."

"Stay there. I'm coming over."

It's nearly twelve miles from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side and on a normal day at three in the morning it would take twenty two minutes to get there. John makes it in twelve. He leaves his bike parked right in front, despite the doorman's protests, tossing the keys to him on his way in. If he cared so much, then he could move it.

His blood runs cold when he sees you lying on the floor, pills spilling out of the bottle that lies limp in your hand. You're cold when he reaches you, his hands trembling as he feels for a pulse, before scooping you up and taking you to the shower and placing you under the stream. He forces a couple of fingers down your throat, doing his best to force the pills up, unsure how many you'd taken by the time he arrived. He feels like he's living every nightmare come to life.

It's early morning by the time you're fully conscious, lying in the tub as he sits at the edge, watching over you. He'd had a few hours to himself to just watch you and think. Things couldn't go on the way they had been. He had to do something, or the next time he wouldn't get there in time.

He sees you stir and orders you to clean up and meet him outside, his voice unrecognizable to even himself. By the time you emerge, you'd showered and wet hair clumps around your head. You're wearing his old law school hoodie, and he feels a twinge of something, despite knowing you'd done it on purpose.

He places a plate of toast in front of you. You didn't keep much in the apartment besides bottles of chilled champagne and that really wasn't what he was going to serve at six thirty in the morning to the girl who had tried to overdose on pills the night before.

"We're going to take him down," he announced, as you munch on the toast and look at him cautiously.

Your eyes flash at him and you continue to chew, buying yourself time to respond. Finally you swallow and look up at him. "We?"

"Yes. We are not doing a repeat of last night. Ever. So get that clear in your head." His voice is firm and his jaw clenched as he remembers the sight of you lying on the floor only a few hours ago.

You're quiet, looking away from him and he can see the faintest hint of color in your cheeks and he hears you sniffle quietly.

"You scared me last night." His voice is entirely controlled, only the tremor in his hand giving away how entirely affected he is by the past few hours of terror he'd lived through.

Your voice is soft when you speak, catching in your throat when you do. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I don't want sorry. I want you to promise me that it won't happen again," he begs, reaching across and tucking the hair that had fallen into your face back behind your ear.

"I miss him." You look up at him and suddenly he's reminded of the eighteen year old who had snuck into his room after graduation - entirely vulnerable, entirely young, standing at the precipice of the unknown.

John sighs. "Me too. But that doesn't mean - it doesn't mean we give up."

You nod, standing up and walking around the counter to him, wrapping your arms tight around his waist. "So what're we going to do?" you ask, looking up at him.

*------------*

You'd just left his parents' home after having dinner with the three of them, followed by drinks in the study with his father, his mother choosing to retire to bed early.

The three of you had been working together on how to dismantle your father from the inside, and already he'd seen a big change in you. It wasn't how you'd been before, but it was better than it had been recently, and he'd take that win for now.

"You should know," his father discloses, clearing his desk of the files he'd taken out to share with the two of you, "when she turned eighteen, I asked her father about her and you - we all saw the way you look at her. I thought it would be nice to unite our families as one.”

John looks at his father with some amount of surprise. He hadn't known that - that he'd approached your father for your hand.

"Don't look so surprised son. You're not nearly as subtle as you like to think you are. Her father wasn't surprised either. I imagine he ensured it didn't happen regardless. The Hawthornes were not politically useful to him and he needed to keep her available." There's a slight bitter quality to his father's voice.

John nods, a stuttered breath escaping him. He wonders what your father had said to Julian in order to get him to interfere the way he had. He wonders if you knew.

"You need to be careful, son. Don't fall for her again," his father warns. John doesn't know how to break it to him - it was already far too late for that.

*------------*

John's woken up at eight in the morning on a Sunday with a knock on his door. Bleary eyed, he goes to open it, only to have a clipboard shoved in his face. A delivery man is standing here, urging him to sign for a package.

"It's downstairs. Can't bring it here. Won't fit."

What kind of a package was that big that it wouldn't fit in the elevator? He follows the man downstairs, who leads him to a truck, from the back of which a motorcycle is rolled off.

John stands there, blinking, unsure what to make of it all. Right as the delivery man hands him the keys, a cab pulls up, and out you step, looking far more dressed up and cheery than anyone should that early in the morning.

"Oh good it's here," you exclaim, beaming at him.

"What's going on?" he asks, taking in your appearance - the leather jacket and the combat boots. You looked like you were playing a biker chick for Halloween.

"I had Julian's bike shipped over," you explain, your eyes taking in his shirtless appearance and skimming over the grey sweatpants he had worn to bed. "You're going to teach me how to ride it."

He raises an eyebrow. "I am?"

"Yes. Now go put on a shirt. When do you even have time to do all that?" you ask, waving your hands in the general direction of his chest and abs, a flirty smile on your face that makes him blush ever so slightly. "Thought you were a lawyer."

John could feel a migraine coming on as he shivers from the cold. There really was no talking you out of this or reasoning to do this at a more humane hour. Rolling his eyes, he tosses you the keys before going upstairs to change.

*------------*

It had been a heart attack from nowhere. He'd gotten a call from his mother in the dead of night, hysterically screaming for him. Apparently you'd gotten the same call, as you'd arrived at the hospital before even he did. You held his mother together while the doctor spoke to him. It had been quick, relatively painless as far as death goes.

Everyone had come for the funeral, and from the corner of his eye he saw you greeting both of your parents as though nothing had happened. Your father's arm around your waist fills him with disgust, leaving him wondering how you could stand his touch after knowing everything that you did.

The funeral and wake afterwards seem to stretch on forever and all he wants is to be away from all the people.

It's late and most everyone had left, his mother catered to by her sisters - he'd needed a breather. He'd ended up in his childhood bedroom - surrounded by his soccer trophies, swimming medals, debate gavels - a shrine his mother had maintained to him and his achievements.

"Hey."

He turns at the sound of your softly hesitant voice as you stand at the door. You're still wearing the black dress you'd worn earlier in the day, a delicate strand of pearls wrapped tightly around your neck. He recognizes it as a piece his father had gifted you for one of your birthdays when you were younger, and he smiles at the memory of everyone surrounding you while you wore a tiara and blew out candles.

"Hey, come on in Cap."

You smile slightly at his use of the moniker, and walk in, carefully shutting the door behind you. The bed shifts as you come and sit by him, your hand reaching for his. He feels a streak of warmth go through him - the first bit of warmth he's felt since he saw his mother's crying face at the hospital.

"He's gone," he whispers, turning towards you. His father was gone. He's an adult, and this was a part of life, but he wasn't even thirty years old yet. Parents weren't supposed to die when you're that young. They're supposed to be there when you get married, when you have kids. His father would never meet his children.

You squeeze his hand, bringing his head down to your shoulder as you hold him. Tears won't come. He didn't think he was capable - not yet at least. Right now it was enough to feel something - anything.

He takes another deep breath and as he turns his head, he catches your worried look. His eyes go from yours to your lips and back again and before he knows it, he's leaned in. You let him. He pulls away, set to apologize, but when he tries to, your lips cover his again. A shuddered breath traverses through the both of you as he lowers you to the navy blue sheets that cover the bed, your light hands traveling from his face to his hair, to his arms - leaving sparks of sensation everywhere they go. He acts on pure instinct, the two of you careful to keep quiet as his hands roam, touching skin and drawing noises, whose mere imagination had maintained permanent residence in his dreams for years.

*------------*

It had been two weeks since his father's funeral before he sees you again by himself. He'd spent a large amount of that time with his mother, helping her pack up his father's things and sort through the will. You’d been there with her whenever he couldn’t be.

He kept replaying that night over and over again in his head. It shouldn't have happened like that. The two of you - finally - it should've been perfect. Instead it had been coated with grief and hurt - a desire to provide comfort and years of pent up longing that should've exploded but instead simmered into a low fizzle. It had still been what he had needed. It just hadn't been what you needed, and he couldn't help but feel guilty for that, as he remembers you giving him a half hearted smile and adjusting your clothes before heading back downstairs.

"They turned me down," you complain as he opens the door to you.

He lets you walk in and you hand him a piece of paper that he reads twice before it fully clicks. "The CIA rejected you?" he asks incredulously.

"Yeah, can you believe it?" You scoff, rolling your eyes, entitlement wafting off of you.

You seem entirely put out as you help yourself to the scotch he'd been drinking and he can't help but laugh a bit. "You've never been rejected before, have you? Princess has never not gotten what she wants." He knows you haven't - Harvard undergrad, accepted to Harvard Law School, top of your class and winning every single thing you'd ever set out for.

You shake your head at his somewhat obvious mockery and make yourself comfortable on his couch next to him, not responding as you focus instead on drinking. It was still odd seeing you drinking real liquor - like you'd actually grown up. Ruefully, you reply, "I've never really gotten what I want."

He's left to ponder that response while you drink some more.

"So I suppose I'll be going to my safety school at the FBI," you sigh after a few minutes, reaching across his lap for the remote. "I feel like I'm going to Columbia or something," you joke, trying to shake it off.

"Hey!"

You laugh as you flick on the news, settling into his side. He's glad you're still casually comfortable together. There had been a part of him that had worried that things would be different afterwards, so it was good to see that you haven't deviated from your normal treatment of him. He watches you as your eyes are trained on the TV anchor, your face scrunching up with every sip of the scotch. You're still not used to the taste or the burn, even if you like to pretend to enjoy it now.

"Let me make it up to you."

You turn up to look at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Last time,” he explains, swallowing a breath that threatens to burst out of him. “It shouldn't have been like that. You didn't - you didn't finish. Let me make it up to you."

You chuckle dismissively, patting his thigh with your hand. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" he presses. He's had a taste of you. He's not ready to just let it go. Let you go.

You're quiet for a second, before you push up from the couch. He follows.

"Because it won't be what you think it will - what you want it to be. It won't be us how it should've been,” you say, your voice low and colored with sadness, fingers fretting with the edge of your top, and eyes unable to meet his.

The two of you stand in the middle of the loft, the draft chilling the air around you. Your words linger in the air, swirling around the two of you.

"What do you mean?" he asks, reaching out for you. The two of you consciously or unconsciously moving around the space, closer and closer to the bed.

You bite your lip, as though unsure of how to say it. How to say it in a way that will resonate with him. "I am not the nine year old that said I was going to marry you one day, John," you clarify, a sad smile gracing your face as you look up at him. "I'm not the fifteen year old that begged you to be my first kiss. I'm not the eighteen year old that thought I'd have a beautiful life with you. Those girls are dead. I can't be who you want me to be."

John feels his heart sink at your declaration, despite knowing you're right. It's not the same as it once had been. The last time he was with you was proof enough of that. And yet, he doesn't want the time after his father's funeral to be it - not after everything. He couldn't quite bear it to leave it at that. Not if there was a chance.

"Be you then. Let me be whoever you need me to be."

You eye him carefully, surprised at his persistence. The two of you have managed to maneuver yourselves towards the other side of the loft, near his bed, and he watches apprehensively as you walk slowly closer to him, an odd glint in your eye. He finds himself instinctively backing up as you approach, until the back of his legs hit the bedframe.

"You sure about that?" you ask, and before he can catch a breath, your hands have come up and shoved against his chest, pushing him to the bed. He bounces on the mattress ever so slightly, his eyes widened in surprise as you quickly straddle him, your face oh so close to his. "Is this okay?" you appraise him, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders to maintain your balance.

He nods, moving forward and capturing your lips. He only manages to feel in control for a second, before it’s swept away from him, your fingers harshly pulling at his hair, drawing a groan from him as he finds himself bucking up towards you. It's all fast, hard - nothing like he'd imagined it would be like with you. However, it's only afterwards, as you get out of bed and pull your clothes on to leave, that he realizes exactly how different it is. He finds himself unable to say anything. After all, you'd warned him. He watches you get fully dressed and slip out the door with only a half smile and wave. Never before has he felt so...used.

The next morning, he sees the angry red scratch marks clawed into his back and the bruises left on the rest of him - that’s when it fully sinks in. You're not you.

It happens a couple more times before he starts giving as good as he's getting, and for a second you're surprised. Shockingly, instead of being discouraged, it only serves to spur you further.

Things continue in the same way throughout your training at the FBI. You tell him not to wait. That you aren't exclusive and he should date. After all, you're only back in the city around once a month and he never comes to DC. You always arrive on Julian's old motorcycle. You never spend the night. He tries dating but it's hard to want to become exclusive with other women, knowing that you'll be back again in a couple of weeks. His father’s words loom in his head constantly on the nights he lies awake wondering how you’re doing, if you’re alright, if you’re thinking of him too.

He knows he has to wait. He has to wait to tell you until everything is done and the dust settles. There’s a ring with your name on it sitting in his mother’s jewelry box. He just has to ride this out, until you’re you again.

*------------*

You'd accepted a spot on the BAU. He'd thought you'd take the offer in White Collar or something else that was based out of the New York field office at least. However, you said you liked DC and that you liked this one team in particular, and John found himself confused. The plan was really just to get access via the FBI - who cares which team it was on.

You don't see him the first few months you're on this new team. It seems you're always traveling and your phone calls are few and far in between. He starts taking on more than his fair share of the billing hours, working sixteen hour days every day. It won’t be long until he’s made partner - youngest partner in the firm’s history.

He gets far too happy when you tell him you're coming back to New York for the holidays, and ask to spend them with him. He's nearly giddy with excitement. He gets the babka from the Jewish deli you like and he grabs a couple of bottles of champagne to ring in the new year with.

You arrive, a large smile on your face, your nose red from the chill and a cute little beanie on top of your head. You laugh and leap into his arms immediately and you kiss him and he forgets how to breathe. You're in his arms and you're smiling and you're kissing him without it leading to sex and for the first time in two years he feels a surge of hope flowing through him. That's my baby.

You tell him about the team and how much you've been learning, as the two of you settle into eating dinner together. It's so nice to hear you excited about something - it reminds him of when you first started at Harvard and the two of you were still maintaining a strong friendship despite putting your relationship on the back burner. All the late night phone calls where he'd fall asleep to the sound of you talking about your history and art classes, everything you were learning in criminology and psychology and he'd just hum and listen, taking it all in. At the time, he'd been worried that you were going to work yourself to the bone doing a triple major and a minor, but you hadn't been able to decide what you wanted to do and you were intent on doing it all. It’s that similar charged passion now as you tell him about the latest case. You deal with serial killers every day and it isn’t something he’d have ever thought you’d do. You tell him about your team and that you’ve made friends, you talk about some kid’s birthday party and ask his advice on a gift, and there is this light in your eyes, this hopeful softness to your smile and he can see every possibility with you.

After dinner, the two of you sit on the couch as he fills you in on his most recent trial that he's been working, glasses of scotch in hand. He's a little surprised again when you kiss him softly, completely unlike the past year or so that you two have been intimate. He can't help but escalate it, pulling you into his lap. This was it. This was how it was always meant to be. You let him carry you to the bed and slowly lower you, going down and down as he works his way down your body. Every touch inciting a soft moan from you, every moan in turn bolstering him onward. He's not sure what changed, but you let him be with you the way he's wanted to be with you forever. Your fingers wrap around his neck, pulling him close after you both finish, leaving him buried within you. He feels your lips ghost over his forehead, fingers running through his hair. You make no move to leave.

The sun streams in through the windows, waking him the next morning. He doesn't feel you next to him, and for a second he panics and thinks you'd snuck out in the middle of the night, having realized your mistake. You don’t stay the night. Ever. You barely even linger afterwards. But then he sees you standing by the window at the kitchen, wearing his shirt and some socks to protect from the chill, a mug of coffee in your hand. His heart flutters at the sight.

He gets up, slipping on a pair of pajama pants, before joining you at the window, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and tucking his head onto your shoulder. It's only when he tries to kiss you that he notices your glossy eyes holding unshed tears.

"Hey Cap," he says softly to you, turning your face towards him gently. "What's wrong?"

You're worrying your bottom lip between your teeth and your hand, the one that isn't clutching the mug tightly is bunched into the shirt you're wearing, wrinkling the material. "I'm sorry," you manage to breathe out. "I am so sorry for all of this."

John feels his breath start to swell in concern, and he rubs his hands up and down your arms soothingly. "What're you sorry about?" Everything was finally good. What could there possibly be to be sorry about?

You swallow back a sob. "Doing this job, I see all these people every day who have been messed up by their fathers. Day in and day out, that's all I see. People trying to make sense of the world in one way or another because of how much their parents screwed them up. And you know what? A lot of these people hurt other people because of how much they've been hurt. It sickens me to relate to them - these sickos, pedophiles, and murderers and I think to myself, wow, that could easily be me if I let my father continue to get to me. If I keep going down this path where all I'm doing is basing everything around revenge and taking him down. My life is all consumingly him and I want it to not be."

John nods understandingly, as you continue to let him hold you. The pain in your voice causes his heart to clench.

"I don't like those people and I don't want to be them. I have a chance to stop them. Do something good. Feel clean for once in my life."

"If that's what you want, then alright,” he reassures you. Of course you’d do whatever was best for you - you should know that he would always do what was best for you. “But why are you apologizing to me?"

"Because - because I don't think I can do this, if I'm reminded of Julian everyday,” you sob. “I don't want to forget him, but - but I'm also not strong enough to think about him every single day and be reminded of what happened to him all the time. I want a chance to get out.”

He looks at you, trying to read between the lines of what you’re saying, and the realization dawns on him. The softness, the apologies - the way you’d let him hold you and have you wholly for the first time. The fact that you’d stayed. You were trying to say goodbye.

He can feel the mounting panic that he tries to quell. You’ve obviously thought this through, that much is clear. You’re trying to do good, to be good, to shed the shadow of your father and he can’t fault you for that in any way. It’s the right thing to do, and he knows it. He’d thrown you a life raft the day he’d found you passed out on your living room floor, and he’d started to help you paddle towards shore. He hadn’t cared what land the two of you would arrive at - the only goal being arriving on solid ground at all.

You look at him mournfully and take in a shuddered breath that he can feel rush through you as you’re still pressed against him. You stand in the cage of his arms, never once making an attempt to move away. “John, if you ask me to stay, I will,” you whisper nervously, your eyes meeting his, letting him see everything. “But, I am begging you, please don't. Don't ask me to stay. I have a shot at doing something good - something that has nothing to do with my father. Doing this job makes me feel like I'm making amends and undoing some of the bad that exists in the world. I'm starting to feel clean again. But I don't think I can do that if I have one foot in this world and - "

"And you can't do that if I'm around. Because I'm part of it. I'm part of this world."

You nod, taking another deep breath as the tears continue to fall. Down your face and his.  

"I love you." He can't help but say it. He needs to. He needs you to know, if only once.

You smile despite the tears, reaching up to cup his cheek and he leans into it and he leans into you. "I know. But I don't think that's good for either one of us anymore. I used to. But I think the two of us are too broken in the same ways. We've both been on the outskirts of the same life and we're scarred by the same darkness. All of our jagged pieces, they fit so well together. But I'm starting to think that kind of love isn't the good kind. I don't really want jagged pieces anymore. I don't want to have to have someone fit me in order to round out my edges. I want to be whole all on my own. I feel like we both need that. We both deserve that - and I can’t give it to you.”

When you said it like that, how could he even attempt to disagree.

He releases the breath he’s been holding for the past while. Your arms are still wrapped around his waist, and he lets you - he lets you be his solace. He wraps his arms tightly around your back, pulling you into him, as close as he possibly can, head bent and resting on your shoulder.

“What if I never love anyone like this again?” he asks, his words a mumble against your skin. You’re the person he talks to about things like this.

You shift, moving your head back to rest against the brick walls, bringing both arms up, holding his face gently with both hands. “You won’t,” you tell him tenderly, tilting your head ever so slightly as your eyes meet his. “You’ll love them differently. But that doesn't mean that it won't be real or deep or any less meaningful - just different. Hopefully, with any luck, it’ll be better. Because you deserve the world, John.”

You rest your forehead to his and he lets himself bask in the feeling of you - you all around him, you everywhere, you in his arms.

He prays with all his might, that you find what you’re looking for.

*------------*

The tattoos had been his idea. He wanted something to always remember Julian by. But he was also a selfish man - he needed a tether - something to tie you to him forever.

You part ways outside the tattoo parlor, one of the bottles of champagne that he'd bought in your bag. He goes home alone.

You ride the bike back to DC and pop open the bottle of champagne on New Year's Eve all by yourself, drinking to a fresh start.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds reader insert #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #hotchner x you #hotchner x y/n #hotchner x reader #irreverentseries

[liberty-barnes]

Letters To A Stranger

Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Summary: The story of a girl who loved a boy, but couldn't talk, so she wrote.

Warnings: fluff for a bit, but then massive angst, and i mean massive, STOP READING HERE IF YOU DON'T WANT ANY SPOILERS BUT I WOULDN'T FEEL OKAY WITHOUT LISTING ALL THE ANGST FACTORS 

(mentions of ED, mentions of self-harm, implied character death, mentions of social anxiety)

Word Count: 1.3k words

Estimated Reading Time: 5 minutes

A/N: did you miss me?

Masterlist 

February 21st, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

Are you new? Or was I simply too oblivious to your presence until now? I've never seen you before, you're really pretty.

 I don't think I've ever used the word "pretty" to describe a man before. Well, boy, but my point stands.

But you really are. With your caramel eyes, and artistically tousled hair. You're cute. Kind of like a puppy. Not that I'm attracted to dogs, of course, but there's really no better way to describe you. Your face lights up when you talk on the phone, like an excited golden retriever who'd just been told he was going for a walk. I wonder who you're talking to. Is it your partner? Please, say you're single.

You get off after me apparently, so I guess I'll just keep my pining to my letters and hope to see you again tomorrow.

Kinda wishing I was yours,

Your secret admirer.

February 22nd, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

You're back! Is this a simple coincidence or are you a regular? 

From the backpack on your shoulder, I'd say maybe you're a student. I don't go to school. You make me wish I did if only to see your face every day for more than the short ten minutes of our joint ride.

I wonder how old you are. You look old enough to be in high school, but which year are you? I know I'm only nineteen, but I'd feel a little bummed about crushing on a fourteen-year-old.

You're smiling again today. I'm glad. I don't see a lot of smiles at the diner. Mostly glares, impatient huffs, and tired, distant expressions. It's a nice change.

I have to go now but thank you for making my day.

Hoping to see you again tomorrow, 

Your secret admirer.

February 23rd, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

I'm starting to think that smile is permanent. It's the third day in a row that I've gotten on the train and was immediately greeted with your beaming smile as you watched some video on your phone. It made me smile too.

Your sweatshirt's pretty. It says "Midtown Tech" on it. Is that a school? Is it your school? 

I may have to do some digging later.

Please don't think I'm a stalker.

Your totally not-stalker secret admirer.

March 1st, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

I was late this morning so I didn't get to see you. My boss was not happy about it, I felt like I was walking on very thin ice.

And then this guy grabbed my ass while I was taking his order. I acted on instinct, tried to remember everything they taught me at my self-defense class. I ended up accidentally punching him in the face. 

So yeah, I lost my job today. Which is why I'm here so early. I might stay on the subway just to see which stop you get off on. 

Yeah, maybe not, that'd be weird and I should start job hunting as soon as possible.

Thank you for making me smile on a bad day.

Thank you for being you,

Your secret admirer.

March 17th, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

I got a new job! I'm working at this coffee shop/bookstore and it's honestly the greatest thing in the world. I get to be around books AND get free hot chocolate, how much better can life be?

You looked a little down today, I wonder if you're okay? Is everything well at home? Maybe school's the problem? Maybe you got a bad grade, but you look really smart so I don't know.

I hope you're feeling better tomorrow,

Your secret admirer.

March 19th, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

I wish I knew your name, that way I'd know who to address this to. But I guess Cute Boy On The Subway will have to do. 

You were smiling again today, that's nice. I haven't seen you smile in a while, I was starting to get worried. The sweater you were wearing looked a little too big to be yours, the collar slipped down a little when you moved. It looks like there's a massive bruise on your upper chest. Does it hurt? Are you okay?

I wish I was brave enough to ask you in person.

Get better soon, 

Your secret admirer.

March 25th, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

You're back to not smiling today. I don't like to see you frown. Not at all. I want you to tell me what's wrong. I want to help you get better, see you smile again.

I want to talk to you.

I'll do it tomorrow, 

Your secret admirer.

March 26th, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

You were sad again today. But that's okay, cause I said I'd talk to you. 

Except I didn't.

My stomach started doing uncomfortable flips and I had to get off the train earlier than usual so I could throw up. It was not fun. 

Maybe I just have the flu?

Hopefully, I'll be better tomorrow,

Your secret admirer.

March 30th, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

I've tried talking to you for three days, every time I had to get off and empty my stomach's content. I started to see a pattern so after a half week of that vicious cycle, I went to see my doctor.

Turns out I have social anxiety tendencies and you simply trigger them a bit. So, basically, my body won't let me talk to you.

I'm a little sad but also kind of relieved. At least I know I'm not voluntarily letting you slip through my fingers.

Not that I ever plan on doing that, you've become too important.

I hope you smile tomorrow,

Your secret admirer.

April 7th, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

I'm worried about you. Your sleeve rose a little when you held onto the pole. There are scars there, familiar ones, ones that I recognize as scars left by one's own hand. Physical marks of a person's suffering.

Why are you doing that? It hurts to know that you feel down enough to resort to that. I want to help, but I can't bring myself to talk to you.

Please stop this,

Your secret admirer.

April 12th, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

Your eyes were red today. You've been crying. There are dark circles under your eyes, how long has it been since you've last slept?

A lady asked you if you were alright. You said you were just a little tired. I've never heard a more obvious lie.

I wish I could talk to you,

Your secret admirer.

April 16th, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

The dark circles haven't gone away, if anything they've gotten darker. But now there's a bruise on your cheek. You seem to be getting thinner too.

What's going on?

Your secret admirer.

April 28th, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

How much weight have you lost? Your cheekbones are more prominent, and your arms are getting thinner by the second. Why don't you eat? 

The bruises are more frequent now. Cheek, eyebrow, lip... 

Who's hitting you?

Who's making you suffer?

Your secret admirer.

May 6th, 2024

Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 

I haven't seen you in a few days. I wonder where you are.

Are you okay?

I'm sorry, that's a stupid question, you probably aren't.

I've decided that next time I see you I'm gonna talk to you. Ask you what's wrong. Force you to tell me if that's what it takes.

I hope you're safe.

Your secret admirer.

May 27th, 2024

Dear Peter Parker, 

I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough to talk to you when I had the chance.

I hope you're in a better place now.

I'm sorry you were alone when you did it.

I'm sorry you had to do it.

With love,

(Y/n).

yes, i'm one of those authors that post something an then disappears for two months, i'm sorry. i've been super busy with school and i haven't really had the motivation to write lately but i got this idea and i just needed to get it out.

also, i may be getting a new computer in like 1 or 2 weeks, so that's cool! it'll be better to write and stuff cause this one's getting kinda slow and sometimes it's hard to post stuff cause it won't load lmao.

anyway, i hope you liked it and if you did don’t forget to reblog/comment/like

love you all!

-Miah

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────» 

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you) 

PERMA TAG 

@jeezkiddo​ @officiallyunofficialperson​  @beananacake​ @theunderlier @harrysleftchelseaboot​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @onebigolemess​ @samoney69​ @agirlwithpointlessideas​ @ddaawwssoonn​ @inhumanwithpowers​ @imagineshere-forall​ @stiles-banshees​ @orowit​ @spideynut​ @deathofmissjackson​ @parkersbliss​ @ephemeral-limerences​ @write-from-the-heart​ @cardboard-ben​ @my-alignment-is-bisexual @mendes-marvel​ @timotayswriter​ @inthecornerchair​ @lovelynerdytraveler​ @niallssweetheart22​ @incorrect-things​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @harishaanne​ @ellamw04 @bisexual-disappointment​ @onelovesr​ @ellyseveronica​ @sovereignparker​ @notsosmexy​ @theamazingtomholland​ @lozzypoz321​ @peterspideyy​

PETER PARKER TAG 

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MARVEL TAG 

@dreaming-lia @emily-louise-hynes @arts-ismything​ @peachyafshawn​ @cathwritestragediesnotsins​ @spn67-sister​ @t-monosapiens-h @galaxystern08​ @highlydisfunctional1​ @jillanaholland​ @hyluas @ravenagrimes @captainbuckyy​ @kaylig02​ @crazyassbitch-things-blog @sharenaloveyouX @tacobacoyeet​ @andycanbeemotional​ @angelicromanoff 

#libby writes #libbys stuff #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #marvel #avengers #spiderman x reader #mcu spiderman #spider-man #mcu

[all-the-love-harold]

She

This and ...Golden are a part of something that will one day be a best friend Harry series, but for now here’s some teasers until I have the time to write the whole thing. 

"She's just so…." Harry paused, searching for the right word to describe the girl he's falling in love with while he absentmindedly stirred his coffee. 

 Bitchy. Clara thought. She's only met Shelly once but she didn't have a good thing to say about her and she couldn't for the life of her understand what Harry saw in this woman besides her blonde hair and supermodel body. 

 "Magic" Harry finally finished his sentence, "she's fucken magic Ra" 

 "I'm glad you're happy H" she said solemnly, staring off into the distance. 

 “I’ve just never met anyone like her before” he said dreamily, he wasn’t even sure if he was talking to Clara or if he was just thinking out loud  “I’m not really convinced she’s real”

 “She’s real, H.” Clara wanted nothing else but to start talking about something else, anything, she’d talk about the weather if she had to.

 “I'm going to Marry her, Ra” He had never sounded so sure of anything else before. 

 “And I’ll be your best man, but are you sure? You’ve only known her for a few weeks and what have you really done together besides spend hours having sex?” 

 A sly smile emerged on his face and he shrugged “It’s good sex, the kind of mind blowing sex that I want to have for the rest of my life” 

 “You can’t base a marriage on sex Harry and you know it” Clara’s tone was becoming more and more irate. 

 "What's that tone for?" He said taking a sip of his coffee, a serious look on his face. It wasn’t often that Clara spoke her mind like this. 

 "I just don't think I know her well enough to see what you do, that's all" Clara said “and I don’t have sex with her so I’m not sure I ever will” 

 "There’s more to her than that" he said, starting to sound a little offended "we're going out tonight, why don't you join us?" 

 "I'm sure Shelly doesn't want me there," Clara said, infact she knew that Shelly didn’t want her there. How could she jump Harry’s bones with his sad lonely best friend interrupting her every move.

 Harry shrugged “She won’t mind, and I’d love it if you got to know her better” 

 “Fine” Clara sighed, “But I’m only coming out for dinner, I’ve got work tomorrow morning” 

 “Can’t argue with that” Harry smiled “And it’s my shout”

 “Good” Clara laughed 

 “And while we’re on the topic of life changing sex” Harry whispered so that Clara really had to listen  “You should think about getting yourself some” 

 “I had it, and he left, so I’m good for now” Clara said, gulping down her coffee. 

“I heard that sex” Harry smirked “That was not life changing sex” 

 “Whatever” Clara laughed “I’m not ready to move on yet” 

 Harry nodded “I know, he was your first everything, you’re actually coping with it very well” 

 ��I know” Clara smiled “Now I’ve got stuff to do today, what time’s dinner” 

 “Bookings at 8” 

 “See you at 8 then” She got up and kissed him on the forehead before she left the living room. 

 *** 

 That evening rolled around and Clara still didn’t really want to go out to dinner, but she knew it meant a lot to Harry and that was the only thing that could convince her to dress up nicely and put makeup on on a sunday night when all she wanted to do was put on a face mask and watch a rom com. Come to think of it, that’s probably exactly what Harry had wanted to do too. Nonetheless, she put on her red dress that made her ass look fantastic and did a simple, natural makeup look and by the time she was ready to leave the house she was feeling pretty good about herself. 

 The restaurant was quiet when she walked in and she spotted Harry and shelly straight away, sitting in the back corner for a little privacy. 

 “Hi” she said as she walked up to them, placing a kiss onto Harry’s forehead as she sat down, like she always did. 

 Shelly scoffed “You’re late” she said “we already ordered” 

 “Oh, sorry H, I thought you said 8” 

 “I did” he smiled “We just got here a little early, that’s all. I ordered you the pasta” 

 Clara smiled “You know me too well” 

 “You’ve been a pasta fiend since you were 2 Ra, I’ve never seen you order anything else” 

 “Ugh” Shelly scoffed again “That’s so many carbs Clara, you better watch that, it will catch up to you one day” 

 Clara took a sip of her wine and smiled at Shelly “I’m sure I’ll be ok” 

 Harry could sense some tension between the two of them and decided to change to subject. 

 “So Ra, Shelly was just telling me that she had a friend that studied law at London Uni, graduated when you did too” 

 “What was their name? I might know them” Clara tried so hard to smile. She couldn’t imagine falling for someone that couldn’t get along with Harry, so she was going to try her hardest to get along with shelly. 

 “Will, Thompson, I think” Shelly said, “He’s just signed a contract with my family’s law firm” 

 “Oh I know Will,” she smiled fondly “He was the first person I met when I moved to London” 

 Harry and Clara shared a knowing look. Will was not only the first person that she’d met when she moved to London, but the first and only person she’s ever seriously dated. They only broke up a few months ago and there was no way that Clara was over it yet. 

 “We’re not very fond of him so far, he doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing a lot of the time”

 Clara wanted to scream, she wanted to stand up, throw her drink in Shelley's face and leave the restaurant without the tiniest bit of regret. But she also knew that someone saying bad things about Will shouldn’t upset her this much anymore. 

 “He’ll be good once he’s in the swing of things” 

 “I mean honestly, he spent six years at law school and he can’t even file a lawsuit properly” 

 Clara bit her tongue, “What does your family do?” she asked, trying to find some common ground. 

“My father owns a high end real estate agent” 

 “Oh” Clara Laughed “I’m sure he needs a good lawyer then” 

 “That’s how we met actually” Harry chimed in, trying to keep the conversation light. “Shelly’s dad was showing me flats a few weeks ago, Shelly was in the office when I went in and we hit off straight away didn’t we babe?” 

 “Stole my heart from the first glance” Shelly smiled at Harry

 Clara felt her heart skip a beat. “I didn’t know you were buying a new flat?” she asked 

 “I was thinking about it” he said “Nothing has caught my eye yet though”

 “How about you Clara, what do you do with yourself - I mean you’re obviously a Lawyer if went to school with that idiot” 

 Clara nodded “I work in copyright law, it’s not at all exciting” 

 “Yes” Shelly nodded “You do seem a little dull” 

 Clara let out a breathy laugh but stopped herself from saying anything to retaliate. Harry froze too, he’s never seen shelly act like this before, he’s never even heard her swear, let alone say nasty things like that. Silence ensued as their meals arrived and Clara couldn’t help but feel awkward, and all this talk about Will had her wishing he was right here beside her to tell shelly where to go. But that wasn’t the case and with each mouthful and moment of silence she felt more and more out of place. 

 Clara took her napkin and wiped her mouth, “you know what, I think I’m going to go” she stood up and took her hand bag off the chair, “I’ll call you tomorrow H” she kissed his forehead and away swiftly without another word.

#imagine #imagines #harry styles imagine #ofc imagine #harry styles x ofc #ofc fan fic #fan fiction #fanfic #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #Harry Styles #harry #styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #best friend #fluff #harry styles fluff #fandom #fan fic #harry styles fan #harry styles one shot #angst #harry styles angst #ofc #ofc one shot #drabble #harry styles drabble

[verymuchimmortalcat]

Maribat March Day 4: Internet Friends

ao3

@maribatmarch-2k21 

Marinette looked up from her phone as she heard a notification go off on her laptop. She had just finished posting the pictures from the photo shoot for her first official line. After years of making items for mainly Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, she had released her first line under the pseudonym of MDC at the age of 17, a year after Hawkmoth’s defeat. One message from Arrow Girl, it was a message from Cissie, which given that she had just released a new line wasn’t that surprising it just meant that Cissie had stayed up past midnight again. It should be around 3 am for her right now. Opening the message, she laughs.

Arrow Girl: HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEW MDC LINE, M????????

ITS SOOO PRETTY

WHO AM I KIDDING YOU LIVE IN PARIS AND WANNA BE A DESIGNER YOU’VE DEFINITELY SEEN IT ALREADY

So, yeah Cissie didn’t know she was MDC and sue her, Marinette found it funny how Cissie ranted about her designs to her. It’s not like Cissie didn’t laugh when Marinette obsessed over the costumes on TV and the people wearing them.

Designs&Coffee: Ya, I did

Which one’s your favourite piece?

Arrow Girl: The second one

It’s a master piece

Designs&Coffee: I love that one the most too!!!!!

That was true, the only thing Cissie didn’t know was that she designed that piece.

“Marinette, Adrien’s here,” her mother called suddenly.

“Coming Maman,” she replied.

Designs&Coffee: I’ve got to go, my mom’s calling

Talk later. You should sleep.

Arrow Girl: Says the girl with Coffee in her username

Bye.

Closing her laptop, Marinette headed downstairs, grabbing the Black Cat miraculous on her way. Adrien visited from London once a month but he had left behind his miraculous saying that he’d rather put it all behind with everything his father did. But both him and Plagg missed each other so Plagg came along on their monthly visits. Marinette still wore her earrings and Tikki went with her everywhere but she was more of a pocket best friend at this point then a pocket goddess who gave her the ability to become a superhero. Both Cat Noir and Ladybug had retired after Hawkmoth, they dealt with a miraculous threat and if another arose, they’d be there to help, but for right now the two of them were focusing on their goals and dreams outside superheroing. That was actually how she had ended up talking to Cissie, some random person had started questioning young heroes retiring online, and Cissie and Marinette had both jumped to the defence and they had just continued talking. That had been about six months ago. Now, they spoke almost every day.

Marinette hugged Adrien as soon as she saw him, calling out a bye to her parents she dragged him out of the bakery and they headed to the park. They had a few hours to catch up before they had to meet Alya and Nino.

.oOo.

A week or so later, Cissie was stuck in the makeup chair when she heard the notification that she had set for M’s messages go off.

Designs&Coffee: DID YOU KNOW THERE’S A NEW CISSIE KING-JONES MOVIE COMING OUT IN A FEW MONTHS.

IM SO FREAKING EXCITED

Arrow Girl: I could tell.

Designs&Coffee: I feel like you should be more excited.

ONE OF THE MOST AMAZING ACTRESSESS WHO SHARES A NAME WITH YOU IS STARRING IN A MOVIE

Sometimes, Cissie wondered how M didn’t figure it out. Her username was Arrow girl, she knew her first name was Cissie and M knew that she was working in the movie industry. But then M treated her like a normal human being and not like those other fans and Cissie really didn’t want that to change that at first, she knew now that she would not treat her differently but Cissie had no idea how to go about telling her that I’m the actress you fangirl about.

However, before she could reply to M she was called so they could start shooting. Telling her that she had to go, she’d talk later and that she should take her own advice about sleep, she rushes out onto set.

.oOo.

A few months later, Cissie’s agent gets her an audition for a period drama set in the 1800s when women walked around with corsets and large skirts and Cissie for some reason agreed to audition. So, she auditioned and got the part. The first week on set was just them going over the beginning measurements for the costumes and other things like that. When she asked the director, who was going to be designing the costumes, he said that it was a rather high-profile designer who would be arriving in L.A. next week. That confused Cissie, this movie wasn’t that much of a big deal that they got a high-profile designer. She decided to ask the assistant director who seemed to be a boy around her age, so maybe seventeen or eighteen, who seemed to be always wearing a cap and headphones.

She went ahead and introduced herself to him, holding out her hand and saying, “Hi! I’m Cissie King-Jones.”

He laughed and shook her hand, “I know dudette, you’re the star in the movie. I’m Nino Lahiffe.”

He had an accent she thought was French but she wasn’t quite sure. “I was wondering about the designer, the director said it was a high-profile designer and that they would be arriving next week-“

“And then he asked you to talk to me?” he asked with a smile.

“No? Should he have?”

He chuckled, “The designer is one of my best friends, we’ve been friends since we were about five. She wanted to work on something different and when I suggested this she agreed immediately. Honestly, I think she only agreed because you’re on this movie but who knows with her.”

“Well then, I look forward to meeting her.”

.oOo.

Marinette had arrived in L.A. the day before and was now headed to set with Nino. She was nearly shaking with excitement; she was going to meet the Cissie King-Jones. Nino was laughing at her excitement, “you’re being mean,” she said.

“And you’re acting like a little child, when all of us know when you actually meet her, you’ll be too busy in your designing mode to actually say anything to her, so I took the liberty to do so for you.”

“You did what?” she screeched, earning weird looks from people around them.

“I told her that her being in the movie was probably the actual reason you agreed to work on it. Which is undeniably the truth. Feel free to thank me later.”

“I’m never going to thank you. She probably thinks I’m some crazy fan now.”

“You need to stop catastrophising, Mari. It’ll all be fine in the end.”

“Why am I friends with you?”

“We’ve been friends for too long and now you no longer know how to survive without me.”

She snorted at that, “keep telling yourself that, Nino. Keep telling yourself that.”

.oOo.

Cissie was talking to one of the other members in the cast, when she saw Nino walk in with a petite girl, with shoulder length black hair and blue eyes, who was carrying a few sketch books and a bag that looked really heavy to be carried by someone that small.

When the makeup artist told her she was done, Cissie headed in the direction of Nino and who was probably the designer. Joining the two of them, she held her hand out to the designer, “you must be the designer, I’m Cissie King-Jones.”

“Hi, it’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Cissie definitely didn’t know that name, her confusion must’ve been clear on her face because Marinette laughed, “I don’t go by that in the fashion industry, I’m MDC.”

Cissie took a bit to process that bit of information, she was meeting one of her favourite designers ever who was apparently a fan of hers. She was in heaven, she had to be.

“I love your work. Your new line was breath taking. I loved the second piece the most, the colours and design were amazing,” she blurted out, before she could think clearly.

Marinette just laughed, a clear sounding laugh, and said, “Thank you, I’m really glad to hear that. The second piece on the line happens to be my favourite too. And I think your work is amazing too.”

Cissie smiled, “Thank you.”

And then they proceeded to talk while Marinette showed her the designs and ideas she had.

.oOo.

Marinette and Nino returned to the hotel late in the evening and were hanging out in his room.

“I told you that you need to stop catastrophising and everything turned out fine.”

“Why yes, thank you Nino,” she drawled sarcastically.

“I thought you were never going to thank me?”

“Sarcasm, my dear friend. Sarcasm.”

“So, you were being sarcastic when you said you would never thank me ‘cause it sure didn’t sound like it.”

Throwing a pillow at his face and calling out a Good night Marinette ran to her room. She opened her laptop to check if she had missed any messages. There were 10 messages from Arrow Girl. Opening their chat Marinette wondered what Cissie had sent. What she saw left her feeling shocked and incredibly stupid. In hindsight it was extremely obvious but then again she didn’t know Adrien was Cat Noir until he detransformed in front of her.

Arrow Girl: M!!!!!!!!!!!

I MET MDC TODAY AND MADE A COMPLETE FOOL OF MYSELF

SHE’S DOING THE COSTUMES IN THE NEW MOVIE IM DOING

AND LIKE HER FRIEND TOLD ME YESTERDAY THAT SHE LIKES MY WORK

AND THAT WAS PROBABLY WHY SHE HAD AGREED TO WORK ON THIS PROJECT

AND THEN I GO UP TO HER AND INTRODUCE MYSELF AND SHE INTRODUCES HERSELF WITH HER REAL NAME AND I MUSTVE HAD A BLANK EXPRESSION CUZ THEN SHE SAID I GO BY MDC

AND THEN I BLANKED OUT

AND IF THAT WASN’T BAD ENOUGH I BLURTED OUT I LOVE YOUR WORK YOUR NEW LINE WAS BREATH TAKING AND I LOVED THE SECOND PIECE THE MOST AND THAT THE COLOURS AND DESIGNS WERE AMAZING

AND THEN SHE WAS SO SWEET AND NICE TO ME AND THANKED ME AND SAID THE SECOND PIECE WAS HER FAVOURITE TOO AND THAT SHE THOUGHT MY WORK WAS AMAZING

M!!!!!!! ANSWER ME PLEASE IM DYING OF HUMILIATION.

She thought about her reply for about a minute and the sent it off.

Designs&Coffee: I’m sure she didn’t think you were awkward.

She was probably concentrating more on the fact that she was talking to CISSIE KING-JONES

Her response was instantaneous.

Arrow Girl: How can you be so sure?

Also how did you finally figure out that I’m that Cissie

Designs&Coffee: I’m so sure because I’m that M

As in the M in MDC. Also how I figured you were that Cissie

Hi again! I’m Marinette. I’m 17 and sorta run a fashion empire

Arrow Girl: Cissie King-Jones. I’m seventeen too and currently an actress.

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief, she was worried that this might’ve ended badly

Arrow Girl: Wanna actually hang out tomorrow?

Designs&Coffee: sure!

.oOo.

Cissie woke up two mornings later to nearly a hundred notifications on her phone. About twenty of the notifications were from news channels, which was strange she was supposed to get those only when her name was mentioned in an article and 20 articles in a day were strange. There were another fifty from Bart, which happened occasionally. Ten each from Cassie and Marinette. And a few messages each from Tim, Kon, Greta and Anita.

Checking the news articles first because they would probably give some insight on the dozens of messages, she saw that someone had seen her out with Marinette yesterday and taken a photo which the tabloids had eaten up like starved wolves.

Bart had clearly lost patience fast, his messages were getting more and more pleading as she scrolled through all fifty. Laughing she told him that she had just woken up and would answer all his questions, and she and Marinette weren’t together it was just a misunderstanding, like the one Tim deals with all the time. Kon, Anita and Greta used to the several articles that came with Tim had picked out articles that had the most ridiculous theories and had sent it to her. Cassie had done the same along with several other questions. Choosing to answer Cassie first, she calls Cassie and spends nearly an hour talking to her even though it took Cissie only five minutes to explain the whole tabloid mess. Tim had sent a message saying “welcome to the world where if you’re seen outside your house with someone, everyone is going to believe you’re in a relationship.” Cissie just responded with a laughing face emoji.

Marinette had apologised for her friends’ behaviour, strange as that was. Saying that if she gets e-mails from Adrien Agreste, Luka Couffaine, Alya Césaire or Kagami Tsurugi it would be best to ignore them. They were just over protective and annoying. Cissie pointedly ignored how Marinette had casually brought up four very prominent people in the world. Apparently Marinette’s friends not used to the whole invasiveness of paparazzi had decided to deliver Cissie a shovel talk over e-mail before Marinette could clear up the confusion with her friends. She had also added that they were supposed to apologise and to please tell her if they didn’t.

And that was when she remembered her own friends’ highly similar behaviour and sent a text in the Young Justice group chat that she’d use them as moving target practice if they decide to induct her into their group with threats, and then sent another message to Tim to stop whatever extensive background check he was doing. She groaned as she got a smiley face in reply. Then the notification she had set for Marinette went off.

Designs&Coffee: I’ve been meaning to ask you about why you had all the points you had for young heroes retiring???? so, uh, why did you?

Groaning she flopped back onto the bed, this was going to be one hell of a day.

So my thoughts on how it would go ahead:

Marinette and Cissie meet up to talk about her text but Cissie doesn't really tell her about Arrowette. She changes the topic, after all Marinette was also ready with several points on the same topic. Maybe they eventually tell each other maybe they don't, i don't exactly know.

Marinette's friends calm down pretty soon after, Alya takes some more time but eventually calms down too.

When Cissie says, 'Marinette had casually brought up four very prominent people in the world', Its because at this point Adrien's run as a model still hasn't died out with it being only a year after Hawkmoth's defeat. Kagami is a world famous fencer, Luka joins Jagged Stone on tour and becomes pretty famous too and Alya listened to Marinette, (It ends up being Marinette and Adrien after the reveal who get through to her), she ends up making a name for herself in the year after Hawmoth's defeat, though her work still focuses around heroes/vigilantes which is why Cissie knows her, she's not really that prominent outside France.

Sometime after Cissie finishes talking to Cassie and sees Marinette's text Bart shows up demanding answers. They don't actually know it's Marinette, as in they don't know her name. Marinette Dupain-Cheng isn't really well known, MDC is, and no one knows who MDC is. Tim would probably do a facial recognition scan find out who she is and continue on with his extensive background check and probably figures out she's MDC somewhere along the way. Traya asks about Marinette the next time she sees Cissie

#maribatmarch2021 #ml x dc #maribat #but not really #none of the batfam are actually there #tim's mentioned tho #my writing