#my friend?? works at a law firm but still lives with her parents. and honestly she is super smart and responsible 🤷‍♀️

[shimaiitsoh]

you know what? shout out to adults that live with their parents. takes some type of maturity to say "i just really like living with my parents" because we live in a society that thinks its lazy or bad

[yuzukult]

acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan​ , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

[band--psycho]

Harvey Specter x Reader-Pretend Boyfriend (Fake Dating)

My fourth entry for @girl-next-door-writes bingo challenge! I hope you enjoy!

(Credit to the gif owner)

Third Person POV

“Hey, Harves,” Y/n greeted in a chirpy tone, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor as she sauntered into his office with a huge smile on her face, placing an expensive bottle of single malt whiskey on his desk.

“What do you want ?” Harvey asked, his eyes flicking up from the file for a few seconds, before focusing back on what he was reading. 

“Who says I want something?” She said, slightly taken aback by his comment as she sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk. A small chuckle left his lips as he placed the file to the side of the table, examining the bottle that she placed on his desk before his eyes moved to focus properly on her. 

“You only ever call me Harves when you want something, plus you’re being outlandishly nice,” he observed, his eyes glancing back to the whiskey bottle.

“I’m always nice!” she corrected with a sweet smile on her face. Her actions only caused Harvey to raise an eyebrow in confusion. He knew she was hiding something, normally he’d be answered with a much wittier comment than ‘I’m always nice,’. The pair sat in silence for a few moments, their eyes burning into eachothers, as they tried to work out who would cave first and break the silence. Y/n was debating whether to give up the sherrade she was clearly failing at portraying whilst Harvey tried to work out what she was hiding from him. 

“Fine,” she sighed in defeat, running a hand through her long y/h/c locks. 

“My parents are in town and they think I have a boyfriend,” Y/n began, a wave of anxiety washing over her as the words left her lips. She knew this was probably a stupid idea, but it was too late to leave now, she was in the lions den now, trying to leave wasn’t really an option. 

“And do you?” Harvey asked, knowing the answer before it even left your lips. He knew damn well that you wouldn’t be here if you did.  

“Do you think I’d be here if I did?” Y/n bit back, a hint of frustration in her voice. Harvey couldn’t help but let another small chuckle escape his lips as he looked how flustered Y/n was becoming; in all the years they’d known each other this was the only time he’d ever really seen her this nervous.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to be your boyfriend?” He smirked as the words left his mouth, taking pure pleasure in teasing her.

“Pretend boyfriend, you just have to come for dinner at mine, meet them and then we can go back to our normal lives,” Y/n explained simply, a pondering look came across Harveys face as he processed the words she’d just said.  

“Plus you owe me, you all but scared off the last guy I was seeing,” 

“I’m your friend, I merely warned him about what would happen if he hurt you, so what?” He defended; the memories of that particular conversation with her ex playing back in his head. Harvey was good at reading people, it was something that he prided himself on and that’s how he knew that that man wasn’t any good for her but he also knew that it was Y/n decision, so he just warned him what would happen if he hurt her, he knew she didn’t have a particularly good history when it came to dating and that last thing he wanted to see was her get hurt because some asshole didn’t know how to treat her. 

“So, that means you owe me,” Y/n pointed out with an almost pleading look in her eye. Y/n knew that this was such a bizarre thing to ask, to most people it probably wouldn’t even matter, but she knew better than anyone what her parents were like and if she didn’t have a boyfriend to show them, then the whole evening would just be about why she doesn’t and that it was probably to do with her work. Her parents were lovely people most of the time, but they were quite old fashioned in the sense that they didn’t understand why she’d want to work countless hours during the week when she could be a stay at home wife and no matter how much Y/n explained her reason for doing it, the conversation near enough always ended in an argument and right now Y/n just didn’t want to deal with all of that. Harveys features softened slightly as he looked at her, he could see ther desperation evidently in her y/ec eyes and he hated it, he hated seeing her upset. 

“When’s the dinner?” He asked, with a smile on his face, watching as the relief seemed to wash over Y/n.

“Tomorrow at 6,” she answered quickly; hoping that he’d still be able to make it on such short notice.

“It’s a date,” Harvey joked, feeling his heart swell slightly at the sight of her beaming smile. Y/n quickly said her thank yous and left the office, happiness and relief emanating off of her. Harvey eyes followed her out of the room, before meeting Donnas gaze when Y/n vanished from view. Donnas glance said it all, it was a glance she’d given him multiple times in regards to you. A look that screamed, ‘Tell her the goddamn truth.’ Donna like Harvey, could read people very well, she was Donna, there wasn’t a thing she didn’t know. And she knew that they both had feelings for each other.  She knew that they both had their reasons for not wanting to admit them, neither of them had a particularly good track record when it came to relationships and neither of them wanted to hurt each other and ruin the friendship that they had built but she was hoping hoping that now, after this dinner, they might actually admit their feelings to one another, and if they didn’t then she might just lock them in a room until they did.

~~~~~~~~~~

First Person POV

“So how long have you two been dating” My mum asked, sipping her wine.

“Umm..only a few months,” I answered, mentally cursing myself for stuttering on such a simple answer. Harvey obviously sensed how anxious I was about this and  delicately grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers together, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of my hand. I was surprised no one heard my heart beating, that simple action was enough to have it beating like I’d just run a marathon. 

“How did you meet?” She asked in a sickly sweet tone.

“At work, we work in the same law firm together,” 

“I guess that means you’ll be provided for then” my dad instantly said as soon as the words left my mouth.

“Dad,I can look after myself,” I reminded, making sure that my tone didn’t show any of the annoyance I was currently feeling. 

“Nonsense, at your age I’d already had you and your brother,” my mum argued, a flicker of disappointment momentarily clouding her eyes as she looked at me.

“Well I’m focusing on my career, rather than having children,” I answered honestly, only for my dad to scoff at my answer, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“I know you enjoy your job but is it really what you want to spend the rest of your life doing, being a lawyer is a great opportunity but it’s nothing compared to having a family,” he finally said, not meeting my eyes once. I went to say something but before I could he’d already started speaking again, but this time his eyes were on Harvey.

“What do you think on the matter Harvey, surely a respectable man such as yourself would understand that it’s a man's job to provide and a woman's job to stay at home,” as my father said those words I could see the rage flicker in Harveys eyes, as he squeezed my hand harder. 

“Y/n is an amazing lawyer, one of the best I’ve ever known, I’d never ask or expect her to give up the career she’s worked her ass of to build,” Harvey answered bluntly, taking a swig of his whiskey. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Third Person POV

Y/ns parents obviously didn’t like what Harvey had said in regards to Y/n, it was obvious not just in how they looked at him but with how silent they’d grown. Before, it felt like they were playing a game of twenty questions but now, Y/n struggled to get more than a one word answer from them. Harvey felt his heart ache for her, he knew that she loved them that was clear by how hard she was trying to impress them, he could see the sadness in her eyes at their blunt replies. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, to tell her that her parents' view on the world was medieval and outdated but he couldn’t do that with her parents here, so he just squeezed her hand softly, grabbing her attention as his thumb slowly circles onto the back of her hand. A small smile graced her face before she continued to eat the food in front of her. The dinner soon ended and her parents soon left, they couldn’t get out the door fast enough whilst muttering goodbye as they left.  

As soon as they left, Y/n let out a huge sigh as she gathered up the empty plates putting them into the sink, Harvey being the gentleman that he was, gathered up all of the empty glasses and placed them into the sink.

 “Are you okay?” Harvey asked breaking the silence that’d been engulfing them since her parents left. 

“I’m fine, I’m sorry,” Y/n answered, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her. 

“Why are you apologising?” The confusion was clear in not only his voice but in his demeanor as well. 

“For my parents, I know they’re kind of-

“Medieval,”  Harvey finished with a solemn smile on his face, Y/n just nodded at his words, another long sigh escaping her lips. 

“It’s late, Harvey you should probably go,” Y/n said, making her way towards the front door. Harvey nodded in agreement, grabbing his coat and putting it on. The closer he walked towards the door, towards her, the faster he felt his heart beating almost like it could beat out of his chest. Y/n went to open the door but was stopped by something completely unexpected. Harvey kissing her. Their lips molded perfectly together like they were made for each other, instantly she placed her hands on his face whilst he grabbed her waist, both of them pulling the other closer than ever before. She’d heard that he was a good kisser, but this, this was unlike any kiss she’d ever had before, it was an intoxicating high that she never wanted to end. A small whimper left her lips when they finally pulled away from the kiss, a huge smile beaming on both of their faces. 

“I have been waiting so long to do that,” Harvey muttered against her lips, squeezing her hips lightly as he placed a delicate kiss on the tip of her nose, a small giggle coming from Y/n as he did so. 

“I like you, Harvey,” she whispered to him, their lips inches apart. 

“I like you too, Y/n,” Harvey whispered back before closing the distance between their lips.

Tagging: 

@little-diable​ @rebelwrites​ @xacatapelsyx​

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 2)

Summary: Dean lets Sam in on a secret of his as to why he’s previously sworn off all dating before he and the reader go on their first one together. But it’s not just a simple first date when they realize they have more in common than they originally thought...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, mentioned past sexual assault (not graphic)/child abuse, talk about sex toys, self-worth issues

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

Dean’s POV

“Hey,” said Sam a little over an hour later as he walked in the front door. Dean nodded and put the pie he’d brought into the fridge, walking back over to take a seat on the other side of the wrap around couch. “Your eyes are red.”

“That’s what happens when you cry, genius,” said Dean. He sighed and pulled his blanket over himself, rolling his eyes when Sam got up and sat closer. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing was me being really sick when I was sixteen and shitting my pants and you didn’t say a damn thing about it other than you got me cleaned up. Dean nothing you can say will make me laugh. Fuck, I’m scared somebody…” said Sam.

“You’re gonna find out stuff about my sex life,” he said.

“You taught me about sex. Dean, I’m not gonna judge you.”

“I hooked up with a chick after work once. I had some meetings so I wore a dress shirt and tie that day. We got a room, it got heated, and my first mistake was letting her tie my hands to the headboard with that stupid tie. I shouldn’t have asked but I did. I must have been in a mood cause...I asked her to stick a finger up there cause it feels good with a blowjob. I told her the tip of a finger and she didn’t really seem to care when I told her to stop pushing inside with a dry fucking finger. She didn’t care when she shoved practically her whole hand up there no matter how much I told her to stop. Eventually once she realized my boner wasn’t coming back she washed up, untied me and left. I’ve always been leery of relationships but after that I said fuck no. Until I met this girl today. She seems sweet.”

Sam didn’t move and Dean threw his head back. 

“Say something.” 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” said Sam quietly. Dean risked a glance over at him and was surprised to see Sam’s scrunched up face. “Did you ever say anything?”

“No and I don’t want to. It was over two years ago. I honestly forgot about it until today and I met that girl,” said Dean.

“I hope she’s a good fit,” said Sam.

“Me too.”

“Just um, for the record, doing that stuff isn’t weird. I’ve had my share of experiences,” said Sam. 

“Thanks,” said Dean. “Don’t go on treating me any kind of way or anything, got it? This was a one time thing.”

“That’s what you said the last time,” said Sam before he gave Dean a hug. 

“Loser,” said Dean as he returned it. “You staying the night? It’s pretty late.”

“Yeah if you don’t mind,” said Sam as he sat back. He stretched and Dean looked him over. “What?”

“You were at the office, weren’t you.”

“So,” he said with a shrug. 

“Sammy you’re twenty seven. Friday nights are for fun or hanging out at home, not work. I told you I didn’t like that firm you work for.”

“It’s not a very kind place to work,” said Sam. “I’ve been thinking of leaving honestly, coming closer to home again.”

“Really?”

“I miss my friends, our friends. You’re alright too,” he said, Dean resisting the urge to tease him for it.

“Move in here. If you want your own place, you can find one with no rush. I wouldn’t mind company,” said Dean. “There’s plenty of law firms downtown. You’d have no problem getting a job.”

“I gotta stay another two months for them to finish paying off my loan,” said Sam. “But after that, yeah I think I’ll come back home. I just had to go out on my own without you watching my back, you know?”

“Yeah. I was still always watching your back though,” said Dean. “Don’t be trying to get me to eat all that healthy crap or I’ll kick your ass to the curb.”

“You are literally a doctor.”

“And doctors are literally the worst patients. Trust me,” said Dean with a smirk. “What kinda pie you bring me?”

“Blueberry,” said Sam.

“I gonna ruin whatever cleanse you’re on if you have a slice?” 

“You got ice cream?”

“Always were a sucker for ice cream,” said Dean. He hopped up from the couch and hummed as he went over to the kitchen, Sam watching and following after a moment. Sam took a seat at the counter while Dean put a plate in front of him, putting the ice cream on top of the pie how he liked it. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” he said before he dug in. Dean took his time with his own piece, leaning back against the counter. 

“Thanks for coming over tonight. Never told anyone before.”

“I’ll never say a word,” said Sam.

“I know you won’t, Sammy,” said Dean. He got out a pair of beers from the fridge and handed one to Sam with a smile. “You doing okay? Been awhile since we talked.”

“Mhm,” said Sam quickly.

“Want to tell me what it is? Whatever you’re not telling me? I think we established that-”

“Mom contacted me this week. At work. My number and picture was on the company website so she called there,” said Sam.

“What exactly did Mary have to say?” said Dean, setting down his plate and nursing his beer instead.

“She said she and dad have been together again for a few years. They went to couples counseling and dad stopped drinking and a whole bunch of other bullshit.”

“Wouldn’t happen to be the fact I’m a doctor and you’re a lawyer and her stay at home ass wants a nicer lifestyle, hm?” said Dean. “Tell her to shove it up her ass and to get a job if she wants money.”

“She sounded different, Dean. Like maybe she’s in trouble or something,” said Sam.

“That’s the same crap she pulled on you when you were eighteen and twenty one and twenty four and guess what, it’s three years later again. Time for her to lie to you, right on schedule.”

“She’s not the devil, Dean.”

“She slapped you in the face.”

“I was backtalking her. I deserved it.”

“You were an upset kid-”

“I was 14.”

“You were an upset kid and she hit you. That was the final straw for me and it should have been for you too,” said Dean. “You should stay away from her, Sam.”

“I’m not going to suddenly start hanging out with her. She just wanted to know if I’d consider meeting her and dad again and I told her I didn’t know and if I wanted to talk to them, I’d reach out, otherwise they could leave me alone. Happy?” Sam pushed his plate away and crossed his arms, pursing his lips while he stared at the counter.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Sammy. I wish our parents were normal. I’d kill to have had them. But they weren’t and they sucked and they’ve tried to manipulate us our entire lives. Just keep no contact and you’re better off.”

“Why don’t they ever contact you?” Sam looked up and Dean turned his head.

“They hate me. I hate them so that’s fine,” said Dean. 

“But why-”

“I got custody of you. I took you from them in their eyes, ergo they hate me.”

“I mean, do you ever think about-”

“No. I don’t plan on speaking to either one of them for the rest of my life,” said Dean. He finished his beer and picked up his pie plate again. “I know you want-”

“I used to want a lot of things. It wasn’t what was best for me though and I shouldn’t have given you so much shit for taking me away as a teenager.”

“Well alright then,” said Dean, picking at his pie again. 

“You ever gonna tell me how exactly you pulled that off? It was handled outside of court and I know you gotta have some shit or something on them,” said Sam.

“Maybe I’ll share someday but not tonight,” said Dean, his voice firm. “Why don’t you grab another couple beers and we’ll throw on a movie, alright? Polish off this pie.”

“Alright. I’m stealing some of your clothes though. I want to get out of this office crap,” said Sam. He stood up and headed for the stairs when Dean grunted. Sam looked back over his shoulder and Dean nodded.

“I’m glad you came over tonight,” said Dean.

“Me too. This girl must have made a hell of an impression.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Reader’s POV

“Tessa. Oh my God, it was fine the first time,” you said as she worked on your side braid again. “Dean’ll be here any minute.”

“Relax. Make him squirm,” she said. “How are you so shit at braiding hair anyways?”

“Cause mom never taught me, that’s why,” you said.

“I think it’s cause you’re just shit at it,” she said.

“You shouldn’t say shit all the time you know.”

“Seriously.”

“Just don’t do drugs and don’t get pregnant and I’m happy.”

“Well for the record, I’m a virgin,” she said.

“Good.”

“I actually do have a question.”

“You waited until I literally can’t move away, didn’t you,” you said as she moved your hair together.

“Yes, I did,” she smiled. “Um it’s kinda…”

“Go ahead and ask. I guarantee I had the same questions.”

“What’s a vibrator? One of the girls was talking about it in gym class and I didn’t...get it,” she said.

“Do you understand how girls masturbate?” you asked. She nodded and you bit your lip. “So you know how when you rub your...when you rub your clit it feels good, right? Some people like to use a vibrator which is normally a stick type thing that has different settings with a head end that’s rounded. If you put that against your clit, it can feel really, really good...and get you to orgasm pretty hard.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said as she finished with the braid. “So what’s a dildo?”

“Similar but basically a fake dick,” you said. 

“Uh, what?” she said as the doorbell rang.

“How about we talk about all this stuff tomorrow, okay?” you said.

“Okay. I’m still hung up on the fake dick thing.”

“Block it out of your head for now,” you said, shaking your head. “If I’m not back by the time you head to Hailey’s lock up and remember to bring Toast’s bed with you this time, okay? He likes it better than the hard floor.”

“I know, I know,” she said. You jogged downstairs and opened the door, Dean in a pair of jeans and a black tee shirt. 

“Howdy,” he said with a big smile.

“Hi Dean,” said Tessa out her window. 

“Hello Tessa,” he chuckled. “Torturing your sister today?”

“Always,” she said. “You two kids have fun now!”

“Oh you don’t even know what a fake dick is,” you said. “Do not go looking that up on the internet either.”

She groaned as you grabbed your purse and locked up, Dean laughing to himself.

“Sorry. She decided to literally start asking about sex toys right before you got here.”

“Sounds fun,” he said. You hopped down your steps and saw a very nice muscle car parked out front. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“I know the perfect place.”

“Okay, Winchester. I will respect your food truck game,” you said, munching on your taco. “Normally I’m leery but this is good.”

“Told you so,” he said. He took a big bite of his across from you, slurping down some lemonade. He burped and blushed, covering his mouth. “Excuse me.”

“You’re almost cute with that pink on your cheeks,” you said.

“I liked this better when you were the shy one,” he said. You smiled and ate quietly for a few minutes, Dean nodding when you were both finished. He took your hand and you started to walk around the big park in town, finding a walking trail after a few moments. “I like your hair. It’s cute.”

“My sister did it. I’m not you know, good at that stuff,” you said.

“I liked your hair yesterday too,” he said. “So how does one name a dog Toast?”

“I thought it’d be funny,” you said. “Tessa was on a limited diet at first at the hospital. Toast was the one thing she liked. When they talked to me about a service dog, I got in touch with some people and they were training a new litter so we got to name the dog and I picked Toast. It was just a goofy thing I suppose.”

“Is he always on duty?” he asked.

“No. His vest comes off at home and he’s a normal one mostly. Tessa’s staying with a friend tonight so he’ll go with her. He’s very protective of her. It’s why he ran home and got me yesterday.”

“Smart dog,” he said. “My brother always wanted a dog. It never quite fit with our life though.”

“How old is he?”

“A year younger than you. He might get one soon I think.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t think I’d be very good at it. My yard is big enough though,” he said. “I’m over on Fern Lane. The blue house.”

“You got that big cool balcony over the garage right?” you said.

“That’s the one,” he said. “I haven’t been there too long. It’s a nice neighborhood.”

“It is. We grew up here. I was out of the house but I moved back for Tessa. You from Lawrence?”

“Yeah. East side of town though. Always wanted to live over here,” he said. “Everything seemed so perfect over in the nice part.”

“Mostly,” you said. 

“It does get easier. Trust me.”

“I hope so,” you said. He bumped your shoulder and you smiled. “So what kind of doctor are you?”

“Obviously I’m a brain surgeon,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he laughed. “General family practice. I’m boring, I know.”

“That is still way too hard for me,” you said.

“I bet you could do it if you really wanted to. So what do you do? I overheard you say to Tessa you got a new job.”

“I was a paralegal at a law firm. On Monday I start as a junior investor at Sandover, the big marketing firm.”

“My friend Charlie is head of IT there,” he said. “She says it’s a pretty decent place to work.”

“Oh. That’s good. I hope it works out,” you said. 

“I bet it will. Just don’t let ‘em work you to death,” he said.

“I’m gonna try. I’m excited. This could be really good for us. Tessa doesn’t know how...tight things have been.”

“Leeman’s over on the east side, it’s a pretty cheap grocery store. It’s not fancy but we used to go all the time as a kid. Way cheaper than the box store over here,” he said.

“I’ll have to check it out,” you said. You looked him up and down, Dean smiling to himself. “You grew up kinda…”

“Poor? Yeah. It’s okay. It’s not a bad word,” he said. He ran his thumb over your hand and you smiled back at him. “You learn to get by. My brother’s a lawyer now so we don’t have to worry about that too much now.”

“Maybe Tessa’ll be a doctor,” you said. “That’d definitely help us.”

“I’m sure she’ll do something good. You can just tell she looks up to you. She won’t let you down.”

“Fingers crossed,” you said. “So why choose general medicine?”

“Thanks,” you said, sticking your arms through Dean’s flannel later that evening.You took his hand again, walking through downtown back towards his car.

“I don’t remember the last time I spent a Saturday like this, hanging out with someone,” he said.

“Been a while for me too,” you said.

“Is this still considered the first date?” he asked.

“Probably. Why?”

“You want to come over my place...for coffee?” he asked. 

“Oh.”

“No, no. I mean like, literal coffee. I have pie at home and...if I was talking sex I’d be a big boy and just ask,” he said.

“Oh. Well in that case, sure,” you said. “Guys that want sex on the first date normally don’t end up getting a second one in my experience.”

“Well I definitely want a second one,” he smirked. “Also I really want some pie and I need to know your pie stance because this could impact the future of this relationship greatly.”

“I see,” you laughed. “I like a man who knows where his priorities lie.”

“Damn straight I do,” he said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and chuckled. “It’ll knock your socks off, I guarantee it.”

“Alright, this is pretty good,” you said twenty minutes later as you sat at Dean’s kitchen counter, munching on a piece of blueberry pie. 

“Told you so,” he said. He ate another forkful, getting some whipped cream stuck on the tip of his nose. He didn’t notice and started to giggle as you stared at him. “What’s that face for goofy?”

“You got a little…” you said, reaching over and wiping it off with your thumb. You licked if off and he blushed for probably the tenth time that day. “You don’t strike me as shy around women, Dean.”

“Normally I’m not. You make me nervous. Good nervous but still nervous.”

“What about me is so intimidating?” you asked, stealing a tiny piece of his pie. 

“You remind me of me. I’ve been in similar shoes to yours. I know how easy it is to get set off and how people don’t realize you don’t mean what you’re saying.”

“Pushing people away you mean.”

“I don’t want to get pushed away or cross a line.”

“Tell me a secret and I’ll tell you one of mine,” you said.

“I took custody of my brother when I turned eighteen,” he said. You stared at him, Dean nodding. “My mom walked out when I was a kid more than once and my dad was...unkind at times. I protected my brother from it as much as I could. When I was able to, I left and I was given guardianship of my brother. I’ve not seen either of my parents since. I understand raising your younger sibling when you are scared shitless. Most people don’t. They don’t get that I’m still fucked up from the stuff that happened as a kid and when I took in my brother. People don’t get that, not all the way. Not even my best friends or my brother. But you have this look and I know you understand the same way I do so I’ll be nervous because I like you more than just because you’re pretty and helpful and a good sister. You get some part of me that I don’t talk about and it’s the part of you that you don’t talk about and maybe we can make that work.”

You leaned forward and kissed him, Dean sliding a hand to your cheek, a soft but comforting weight to it.

“What’s your secret,” he said quietly, your forehead resting against his.

“I lost my job,” you said. “I lied to Tessa. She worries so much already and I can’t let her know the truth. I’ve been working as a cashier the past month.”

“Y/N, you gotta tell her the truth.”

“She already feels guilty because our parents were picking her up from basketball practice when the accident happened. She goes to therapy, Dean. I can’t tell her. Not now.”

“Can you afford to stay in the house?”

“It’s almost paid off. She can afford four years at the university with my share of the inheritance.”

“Y/N. You can’t go bankrupt just to send her to a university.”

“Lots of people do.”

“Y/N. I practice general medicine because the state pays off my student loan debt if I do. You have to tell Tessa the truth about what’s realistic.”

“My seventeen year old sister currently makes more money than I do. I can’t take anything else from her. She deserves to go to the school she always wanted to.”

“Well...we need a new lab tech at work. Do you want it?” he asked.

“Dean, I’m not asking for a job.”

“I’m not giving charity either. You have a degree, you’re smart and I know you could do it. I don’t know the pay but it’s got to be better than minimum wage.”

“Dean.”

“Someone helped me. I was an eighteen year old kid with a part time job and I had no idea what I was doing. Someone helped me and it gave me a chance to live, to have all this. It’s not charity. It’s decency and everyone deserves that.”

“Never tell my sister,” you said.

“If you take the job I won’t.”

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “This was a more fun date a few minutes ago you know.”

“But now we’re really starting to know one another,” he said. You were quiet, playing with your fork for a beat.

“Can I stay over? I don’t like sleeping in the house alone.”

“Of course,” he said. You flicked your eyes up, Dean offering you a smile. 

“How do you get happy again?”

“Having a stranger run by shouting about toast helps,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he shrugged. “I’m not joking.”

“Why are you single?”

“I’m more complicated than I look at first glance. I’ve been told it’s not an attractive quality.”

“Well fuck whatever bitch said that.”

“I really like you,” he chuckled.

“I have my moments,” you said. You sat back, Dean pushing the bit of pie left on his plate around. “Was that too much...me sharing that.”

“No. I’m glad you did,” he said. “You want to watch something?”

“Whatever you want is fine.”

“Come on,” he said. He showed you upstairs and gave you some clothes to sleep in before he showed you outside to the balcony over the garage. “I sit out here at night sometimes.”

“It’s gorgeous,” you said. You settled down into an oversized chair with him, looking up at the dark sky.

“Yes, it is,” he said as he looked in your direction. 

“So what’s your favorite kind of pie?”

“Oh well if you want to go down that road I can chat your ear off all night.”

“Good morning,” said Dean as you made your way downstairs. You yawned and gave him a smile, Dean handing you a cup of coffee.

“Much appreciated.” You took a long gulp, stretching out and taking a deep breath. “What time is it?”

“After ten. We stayed up pretty late talking,” he said.

“I guess we did,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. “Can I have your phone for a sec?”

“Sure,” he said. You put in your number and handed it back.

“Text me sometime,” you said.

“I think I’ll take you up on that,” he said. “I gotta run and do a few chores this morning but I’m having a few friends over later to watch football if you and Tessa would like to join.”

“You really want my sister hanging out with us?”

“Yeah. As long as she’s like, not a devil worshipper or doesn’t like pie she’s always welcome.”

“Only you would categorize those two things together,” you laughed.

“I am quite serious about my pies.”

“Oh I learned that last night,” you said. “I’ll invite her. She’s seventeen though so not sure how much fun she’ll have.”

“There’ll be a couple guys her age if-”

“She’ll definitely be there then,” you said.

“Great. Let’s have some breakfast quick before I drop you off at home.”

______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[rosesbxrry-main]

Todoroki Shoto with a Quirkless S/O [Female Reader]

Warnings: Contain NSFW content separately from SFW

SFW

He doesn’t really have a natural affinity for meeting new people other than them being affiliated with his school activities (which always includes them having a quirk). So if he were to meet you, it had to be through someone he knew

And that someone was Midoriya

He met you during his last year of UA high school when Midoriya had invited him together with Iida and Ochako to eat together at a restaurant after school

You were quite surprised to see your old classmate from middle school while working part time as a waitress at the restaurant

Midoriya was equally surprised as well when he saw you. You and him were the only quirkless students back in middle school and because of that, you guys were quite close to each other

He introduce you to the other three while you took their order

Todoroki’s first impression of you was friendly. The conversation you had with lida and Ochako flowed nicely despite meeting them for the first time

But your smile was what caught his eye. You seem genuinely happy to hear that Midoriya was fitting well in school and that he had made friends that cared about him

Todoroki listens silently throughout. But when the topic had turn about you, it took him awhile to realize that-

“Your quirkless”

His statement had no menace to it, no hint of mockery or a way to insult you. He had said it with the intention of confirming it with you.

Iida, Ochako and Midoriya seem to be quite shocked at Todoroki’s blunt statement. They stay frozen with mouth a gape, waiting for your reaction

You weren’t sure how to react to the male’s statement

Todoroki Shoto was definitely not a name you haven’t heard before. The son of the current number one hero and has the quirk of both ice and fire. Your first impression of him? Handsome. Quiet. And surely not someone you’ll associate with

But for some reason, his face held no insult, his heterochromia eyes full of curiosity as he stared back at you. For the first time in your life, you had never felt unashamed at those words

You had to leave the table to take their finished order and serve it to them. The unusually tension soon faded and you bid them farewell after their payment

“Did I say something wrong?” Todoroki soon find himself addressing them, brows furrowed  

“Well Todoroki-kun, although I know you mean well but-” Midoriya said, a hand rubbing the back of his head sheepishly “-Quirkless people aren’t really treated well in general”

Todoroki raised his eyebrows at this. He had never met a Quirkless person before so it never crossed his mind that you’ll feel hurt by his words. It made him feel a little restless knowing that he had offended you in any way possible

That was precisely why he finds himself at the entrance of the same restaurant the next day

You were quite surprised to see Todoroki standing there alone. You assumed he came with Midoriya and the others but they were not in sight

“Sorry about yesterday” He bowed slightly at you, he’s apology was curt but you knew he meant about the comment he said about you being Quirkless

You wave your hands at him, “Ah- no no- it’s okay, I didn’t feel offended if that’s what you thought”

You reassure him with a small smile but it seems that it wasn’t enough to him, his lips still curved into a frown

An idea came into mind and you check the time at the watch on your wrist

“Well it makes you feel better…..” Todoroki’s eyes perk at your suggestion “……my shift ends in another 15 minutes, and I know a good bakery that sells some good cakes…”

Todoroki nodded with no hesitation “My treat”

Soon, you guy’s little amendment situation becomes a regular occurrence in your lives. Other than the bakery, there were other places where the two of you would sit (with snacks that Todoroki insisted he paid) and have small talks until it reach curfew time

There were some days where he doesn’t show up at the restaurant after your shift, which you silently knew that he was busy with school stuff

Though you mostly did the talking, Todoroki actually enjoyed hearing about your mundane life. You rant about your grades, friends and sometimes random trivial matters that he found rather interesting

“Sorry” You said, scratching your cheeks with a bashful smile “I’m probably boring you with my stories”

Todoroki shook his head “No, I like hearing your stories”

Taken aback, you felt something churn at the pit of your stomach, something you haven’t felt for a while since the day you had to present in front of the whole class or whenever you see your crush at the hallway back in middle school

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered more aggressively everyday as the weeks and months goes by

Unbeknownst to you, Todoroki felt the same fluttering as well. He liked you but it seems he’s mind couldn’t comprehend the emotion very clearly. So, imagine the shock on Fuyumi’s face when he ask her about the situation

“I like to hear her talk. Everyday, after school, there is always a sense of relief whenever I see her smiling at me and days where I couldn’t see her-“ Todoroki placed a palm on his beating heart “There is a tight feeling in my chest that makes it hard to breath. Is that normal?”

Fuyumi lips were in a tight line “I think your in love Shoto”

“Love….?” Poor boy, he had mixed feelings about this new emotion. With everything he had gone through during his childhood, every emotion was rigid to him. He doesn’t even know if you share the same feelings with him

But, he was no longer the 16 year old boy focusing solely on his goal. He wants to understand. He has to know.

So that was precisely what he did. He confess to you at the entrance of the train station that you both usually part ways the next day

He watch the confused expression on your face, mouth agape to process his words and finally, the tip of your ears turn a dark shade of red, finally digesting his confession

“A-Are you-confessing?- to m-me, like- r-right now?!” You stuttered, brain still processing his words

With palm sweating and heart racing, Todoroki stood firm “You can reject me if that’s what you really want. I-”

“NO! I like you to Todoroki-kun!” You almost shout, before realizing that you guys were still in public. A few bystanders stared and you never felt so embarrassed in your life.

Todoroki’s eyes widen a bit. He expected you to reject him but now that you clearly share the same feelings with him, he honestly doesn’t know what to do next

“Oh” was his only reply

Let’s just say that the both of you came home, face redden and sleep was not an option with minds still fill with each other

Dating Todoroki was definitely a slow burn process and takes a while for the both of you to be comfortable

Affectionate gesture was something that you try to slowly introduce to him but soon the actions came natural to the both you

Hugging? No problem. Hand holding? A natural. Kissing? still needs a bit more work but it’s definitely for special occasions

As the years progress, the relationship between the two of you has progressed deeper. He had met your parents and friends, vice versa he had introduce you to his friends and more importantly, to his mother

It was after the first visit with his mother did he pour out to you the truth about his childhood and his father. You silently listen with eyes watered at the living room of your apartment before engulfing him in a tight hug

“Thank you for trusting me Shoto”

He buried his face at the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of home from you and at that moment, he never felt so whole in his life

He was quite sure of himself that he would keep you hidden from his father as long as he can. But Endeavor probably has heard about you through Fuyumi and his mother at some point.

So when Todoroki told you about his father inviting you to dinner at the Todoroki minor, you accepted it much to his dismay.

“Are you sure Y/N? I guarantee you his intention is more than wanting to meet you”

“Don’t worry Shoto, I think it’s time he face the fact that his future daughter-in-law is going to be Quirkless”

You don’t know how much pride bloom in him at your words and he can’t help the small smile forming on his face

Fuyumi greeted the both of you with warm and gleeful smiles, ushering the both you to sit at the dining room

Natsuo was already there as Todoroki introduced you to him. You were happy to know that Todoroki maintain a good relationship with his older siblings

Natsuo was as welcoming as Fuyumi was with you, asking you about your studies and making small talks as Fuyumi continue to pile plates of food onto the table

The sound of footsteps reach the living room, causing both Natsuo and Shoto’s face harden as the sliding screen door to the dining room open, revealing the towering figure of Enji Todoroki

“I see. so you must be-” His turquoise colour eyes bored holes into your figure before switching his gaze to his youngest’s son, and back to you

“-Shoto’s girlfriend”

You swallowed a bit. He was much more intimidating than you had expected but you push your nervousness at the back of your mind

“It’s very nice to meet you Todoroki-san” You bowed your head in greeting with a small smile, hoping to ease the tension building up

“Likewise” His tone was definitely not reflecting his words

Dinner was the 2nd most awkward situation you had even been (Todoroki’s confession being the cherry on top). You were glad that Fuyumi was trying to lighten up the mood a bit by asking you about yourself

“Medical school is more challenging than expected, since most of the students have special skills that would benefit them in the field” You explained when she ask about medical school

“I would be more surprised if you had it easy, especially since you lack what others have”  

Ah yes, the calm before the storm

You place a reassuring hand on top Shoto’s fisted ones under the table.

“I reassure you Todoroki-san, our society once lacked the skills we have now. I know it wouldn’t be easy but not entirely impossible for someone like me”

“Do you take pride in being Quirkless?”

Here comes the storm

If Shoto was angry before, now he was livid. How dare he-

“I do actually” You said, you could feel the temperature rising inside you. But you need to stay calm.

“Did your parents tell you that?” He ask, gaze now adverted to his bowl of food, clearly scorning at your comeback “How disappointing”

You push the wrath slowly invading the hollows of your throat, aching to yell at him (and punching him, but that will only trigger your boyfriend to be involved in the brawl and the last thing you need is having the house on fire) but you it swallowed back.

“I believe my parents said that out of respect and love for me to have a happy childhood. And they don’t need to be the strongest hero in order to do that”

Natsuo chokes on his food, a small smirk evident on his face as Fuyumi panickily hands him a drink to help, patting his back. Endeavor’s face slowly comes to realize with what you had meant and boy was he not happy.

Shoto was having a blast honestly

You were light on your feet as Shoto walked you home after the dinner. You skipped merrily and swung your hand that was intertwined with his. He laugh at your clearly satisfied grinned, content with the idea of having to spend the rest of his life with you 

NSFW (warning. contain breeding kink, vaginal penetration, temperature play and other intercourse actions)

Of course, being in a relationship for at least 2 years have allowed the both of you to be more comfortable with intimacy

There were a few situation that causes Todoroki to be more aware of your body and awakening his sexual desire for you

The way he becomes flustered when you hold his hand against your body and how he could feel your soft breast pressing on his upper arm

Or when the both of you would hang out together at your apartment in a very hot summer, with you sporting a tank top and shorts that reveal so much of your skin that it was hard for him to look away

Todoroki decided to book a 2 days trip to a hot spring. Since the both of you had been really busy pursuing your own career, he thought, it might be a good idea for a short break

He waited outside of the changing room for you, having been done soaking in the hot spring

But when he saw you exit, hair tied in a bun, face glowing from the heat of the hot spring, he couldn’t help but stare at how ethereal you look at the moment

“Shoto?” You question him when he didn’t respond, a hand reaching to place itself on his cheek. The skin contact causes him to flinch out of his frozen state

“Huh?”

“I ask you if you wanna go and drink some cold milk?”

He stared at your lips as it moved, how sensual and plump it looked. He wants it against his

He reach out to place a hand on top of yours, standing up to walk closer to you until his forehead rest against yours

You open your mouth to ask him what was wrong but when he kiss you with a bit more force than you were used to, the words died down

A hand was placed at your hip, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss. He took your surprise as an advantage to enter his tongue into you

You could feel the temperature rising at the heated make out session. His tongue caressing every inch of the inside of your mouth, moaning lightly when he made contact with your tongue

Your other hand squeeze the fabric of yukata on his chest, a sign to him that you were at the limit of your breath

Before he broke the kiss, he made sure to nibble and suck on the lower part of your lips, causing you to moan at the pleasure

Flushed and clearly shaking at the intensity of the make out session, there was a thick sexual tension in the air as you watch a string of saliva connecting each other’s lips

“I think we should head back to our room” He breath out, his eyes filled with hunger and thirst to feel you against him

The two of you were virgins and it was the first time the both of you had sex

There was a lot of learning at the beginning of it but it was definitely something when tasted a little bit, the both of you will never stop

The hardest hurdle that Todoroki had to face was the fact that his stamina and intensity was much more than yours, given that he was a hero

So there was a fear that he might hurt you by accident when he was too into it, especially since he was naturally a more dominant type

You had to reassure him several times because of that, telling him how good you felt when he thrust into you hard or when his tongue and lips would never stop sucking and licking your overwhelmingly soak folds

Something he enjoys to do, you notice, is how he likes to leave marks and hickeys on you, decorating every crevasses on your body like your neck, thighs and breast. Sometimes while showering, you would find random bite marks or hickey at hidden places you didn’t know

Temperature play is also something the both you enjoy (especially you). The feeling of his hot tongue licking your left nipple while his cold fingers were tugging on your right. Or when he would do the same while eating your pussy and rubbing your clit at the same time. It always brings you to cloud nine

Riding him is definitely a treat for him. He likes to see your face contract at the pleasure of his dick stroking at the exact spot that pushes you to edge. He likes to watch you moan his name as he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper into him as you bounce harder to meet his pace.  

Todoroki absolutely loves to watch the view of his cum dripping down your pussy after the both of you have climaxed. This was something he would do before he cleans you up, and quite frankly, it’s always the cause of round 2

If the two of you are planning to have kids together, he most likely would develop a breeding kink

“Fuck- you’re gonna look so beautiful all round with my baby” Todoroki thrust harder, his pace quickening as the both you are close to climaxing

He press his chest flush to you back, causing you to choke on your saliva at how good it felt

“Cum inside me Sho- I want you to fill me up with your seed. Make me full with your load” You moan out, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turns white

“You want my cum baby- don’t worry, I’m gonna flood your pretty little pussy and breed you properly”

You’re in one hell of a ride

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 12/?

Word Count: 4.4k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best friend’s name)

God idk what i’m doing with this but i’m liking it lmao

next one might honestly be smut idk

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Description of Blood, Gets heated, hints at trauma, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Y/N walked through the streets of Gotham, which were once bustling with people, but now were quiet with the occasional hooker, she had caught the city as an unlively hour, where it seemed to sleep the night away while the vigilantes of the area watched it like their lives depended on it. In some ways it did, the stories they would tell when being interviewed were horrific sometimes, but Y/N figured a decent amount of it was for dramatization, to keep the people of Gotham off of the streets to protect them all from it.

The question was always protect them from what, and they never answered. So, it never kept the people of Gotham at bay from the streets at night, and had Y/N’s car not been towed, she would have been driving home in the safe, secluded area of her car, not the vast wilderness of the streets of Gotham.

She looked up at the sky to see one of the virgate boys using a grappling hook to fly to the other building, which was such a sight to behold for someone who never witnessed a superhero beyond Superman at home. She wished and longed to know more about the vigilante, but didn’t dwell or dote on that man, because she didn’t need to.

Something told her that he was watching though, tracing every step she made to make sure she got home in one piece. She thought she was crazy, her life didnt matter more than anyone else in Gotham. He’s not following me, why would he? she thought, Even though I’m dating Jason Todd, they probably don’t know Jason, so my life doesn’t mean much more to them than any one of the hookers along this street. I’m overthinking it.

The walk home took two hours, she left Jason’s at 4am just to find herself back home at 6am, bright and early as the sun rose, ready to greet the day and all it had in store for everyone. But the things it had in store for Y/N was a class and if she was lucky, cuddling with Jason. Nothing more, nothing less.

She would open her front door, unscathed from the journey home, except maybe for a few callouses on her feet, it was the last time she wouldn't pay for more than a day of parking, that’s for sure. Heels were not the shoes you wanted for a two-hour walk home in the Autumn cold, but they were what she had.

She thought about what she was going to do next, and the first thought she had was to shower. Not because she needed to, but because she wanted to nurse the terrible headache she had and to think some things through. What she normally did in the shower.

She wanted so much more from so much of her life. the main offender of seemingly not being enough for her was Jason. Not because she didn’t want more, but because she craved more from him. He was injured, so she wouldn’t get much more rom him for the time being, and it stung a little for her. She just wanted him, maybe sexually, maybe in a more romantic setting or maybe just on her couch on a Thursday afternoon. It was all three of those options and she knew it.

She pulled out of the shower and looked at the time, 6:50am. Okay, she thought, little more time than I wanted to spend in the shower, but I guess the universe had different plans for me today. What else do you have for me, universe? And how much of you plan involves Jason?

She would open her phone after quickly getting dressed. While she still cared for her appearance, she didn’t want to dress like she owned a law firm every day, so she didn’t. Just black jeans and a black top and she felt like a million bucks. 

Just some quick outfit inspo. I like doing these a lot. I think fashion is funky :))

Artemis had sent her a message asking where she was at around 4am, she wondered why the time, but she then remembered that Artemis’ boyfriend worked with Dick Grayson, who was Jason’s brother, who worked most nights until radical hours of the night. The chances that he saw her on her two-hour walk home was high, but the chances that that had also made it back to Jason was higher. She knew she was in for it.

Hey sorry, I was at Jason’s. Fell asleep in his arms the whole shebang. And yeah, that was me who screamed the yo momma joke at the press. It was super childish, I know, but I don’t care. Those fucks are sucking my life force out of me and harassing my boyfriend, even your boyfriend.

She would then look at the articles calling her a gold digger and worth-nothing childish insulter of the press. She laughed. If the press wanted a fight from her, she was more than willing to oblige and load the canons. 

She didn’t know how to fight back that well, since it was a mainly verbal fight, and she barely even knew how to  fight physically, hence all the running and non-confrontational arguments she had had to the press.

And like fucking clockwork, Jason texted her.

Did you walk home alone or are my brothers lying bastards?

I walked. I knew someone saw me, fuck.

Why did you walk home? I thought you drove here?

I did, but we spent more than 12 hours together Jason. I didn’t buy enough hours, suddenly my car was being towed.

You could have asked for a ride home from Alfred! He would have in a heartbeat.

I was going to! But  I got distracted and it all became a blur and suddenly I was part of the way home in the dark by myself!

What if you had gotten hurt?

Well, I saw one of the vigilantes of the city on the rooftops, I’m sure if I screamed they would have seen me. They always do see that stuff.

So, your car got towed huh?

Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay it off. It’s not exactly like money my parents give me should go to my car getting towed because I got fucked over by seeing my boyfriend. 

You’ll figure it out. Sorry about the car, that’s got to suck fucking ass.

You think? I’m stuck taking the fuckin’ subway till I get my car back. I hate the subway, too many people. Far too many people. Too many eyes. It gets stressful really quickly. Might just walk every where honestly, I can’t deal with the eyes of strangers.

But you’re a C-list celebrity.

Internet is different. I can just block the bad eyes and move on with my life, you should see my block list now that some people are connecting my name to the girl who flipped off the press, thank god Twitter has a fuckin block feature.

You should really just meet my family so you don’t have to run away before they get home, would probably cause you a lot less financial stress, Y/N.

I’ll think about it.

You should think a little harder about it. I don’t want you to get your car impounded ‘cause you’re seeing me, why did you even park in pay-to-park?

Did you not see the massive mob trying to get to you? It was impossible for me to even try to pull into the driveway. Hence why I’m being insulted, you know, ‘cause I yelled at the press to get them to leave me alone. I fucking hate the press, you’re stabbed, severely injured last time they got information, and they’re harassing me, asking me what I like to do on the weekends.

Fucking vultures. Yeah, I’ve seen that. I’ve read the articles. But that’s the press for you, absolute trash and spitting bullshit in everyway.

Fucking hate the press, that’s for damn sure. Despise them. I won’t ever change that, even if, knock on wood, we break up.

Praying we don’t break up so I can see you lose your shit at the press when you’re bored.

She would get up to go make some coffee, since it was closer to 7:20am and if her roommate woke up, she could just tell her to get up anyway.

The press can suck my dick. she said.

You have a dick?

Oh yeah. Massive. 20ft long. It probably won’t even fit all the vultures.

Oh my god, that’s not as big as mine.

lmfao is it now?

Oh yeah.

Nice.

Anyway, my brothers are staying home from school today,  I think they’re making me play Resident Evil 8 with them? You know that game?

Of course. Everyone in that game is infinitely hot.

Are you bi? 

I don’t know. Haven't thought that far ahead to actually label myself. I just like people. Sometimes it’s men, sometimes it’s women. But you have to agree when you see them all. That game came out when I was still in  high school, so I’ve played the entire thing. My phone background is actually one of the characters.

Which one?

I’ll show you if I come over tonight.

My brothers might be in my room, though.

Okay, but, RE8 is an amazing game. So, worth it.

You won’t meet them normally but I pull out a game you love and you’re down?

I’m very easy to convince.

You still have notes to write when you come over though.

Oh yeah, I was probably going to have to come over both ways, just because I need those notes and you do too.

Do you not own a printer?

I barely even own a laptop, I’m waiting for my old one to come in the mail. 

How do you even manage?

With a whole lot of will and spite, anything is possible.

And that’s when her discord group chat @’ed her. She was on Do Not Disturb because she was Jason, and apparently they missed her.

Y/N! C’mere. One said.

Yes? Whatduhya want nerds?

We’ve decided to hold a fake internet wedding between you and Christopher. Another said.

A what.

We’re getting married!

Sometimes I wish I never left Metropolis and then I remember you fucks live there. Why are we doing this? You do know I have a boyfriend right? She asked them.

I don’t know, we’re bored and we miss you. We can have a bachelorette party in Gotham, if you want.

I’m this close to going back on DND.

The group chat was made way back when they had all first met in grade 9 and had been active ever since. They all had stayed in the city when they graduated though, but since Y/N received a scholarship, fully paid for, she took the opportunity and jumped.

They were some of her closest friends, even if they lived in a different city to her now, even if they were all busy with school, even if she was busy with school and a boyfriend, A lot of her life wouldn’t be complete without her crack friends in her hometown.

They had all ben partying like crazy while she was gone, and if she wasn’t so hung up in her own life, she’d probably be down there with them. 

Before you do, can you please explain why you’re screaming at the press, lmao.

Because fuck the press, dude. Why else? 

What did they do to you?

Have you seen the recent articles?

That’s true.

She laughed and finished her coffee. Jason had not responded yet, she assumed his brothers were either checking on him or they had started the game. It was around 8am when A/N finally left her room.

“I thought you were staying with Jason?”

“I was, but then I remembered he has like 9 siblings and I’m not about to meet them all. Then I walked home.”

“You walked?”

“Car got towed.”

“Fuck, can you afford the bill? I can’t.”

“Nope.”

“Guess we’re going to take the subway for a while, huh.”

She sighed and put her cup in the sink, “At least you don’t have school to go to and your lover comes to meet you, I have shit to do and places to be,” she frowned, “Inconvenient.”

“Could you borrow money from Jason’s dad?”

“I don’t borrow money from family, it’s hard enough for me to accept the money my parents send me.”

“I know it is, when’s your class?”

“3pm, I’ll be leaving at 12pm though, because the subway is unreliable.”

“This is going to be a hard hit for us.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s fucking your credit. Mine’s tanking.”

“You’ll pull through it.”

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

She got onto the subway at 12:30pm. She really hated the way it was running. The people, the faces, the staring eyes of unwanted attention. People knew who she was and she hated it. She didn’t like the attention, she just liked the fucking with people. She wanted to get off the subway the minute she got on.

She eventually couldn’t take it and got off a few stops away, there was still a substantial walk towards the college, but she knew it would be. She even brought a leather jacket with her so that she could walk if she couldn’t take it anymore.

And there she was, in the busy streets of Gotham, walking to her college. Barely aware of the people who did stare at her, because she just kept walking, lost in her thought but aware of the people in her trail, the cross walks and the lights she was waiting for occasionally. She just kept walking until Artemis met up with her,

“Hey! I didn’t know you were walking to school today,” Artemis said.

“Oh! I didn’t want to, my car got towed though.”

“Your car got towed? That sucks so much. Well, we’re going the same way, so I’ve decided I’m going to walk with you, you get no say.”

“Of course. I was going to ask if you wanted to,” she laughed, “It’s more fun with a friend anyway, Art.”

“So, how are things with you and Jason, I’m legally obliged to ask as one of his friends.”

“Well, we made it official if that’s the kind of thing you want to hear,” she laughed again, “I’m sure it’s the answer Dick will eat up.”

“You’re right about that one. Dick’s a sucker for a romantic story, you should write one, since you write. He’d probably read it all.”

“Well, that would be fun, but I still don’t have my laptop.”

“You could use Jason’s?” Artemis suggested..

“Nah. It’ll be fine,” she said, “I’ll manage.”

“Aren’t you collecting notes for him for your psychology class?”

“I am, it’s not like he can go anywhere. I actually told him he’d need to walk eventually so that it’s not a learning curve when he’s healed.”

“That’s what all of us are telling him too, he’s a stubborn man, good luck with that one,” Artemis laughed, “He’s always been the stubborn friend. Worse than Will, actually, and Will is really bad with being stubborn.”

“It’s fine,” she laughed, “If you asked any of my Metropolis friends they’d say the same about me.”

“I bet you were quite the wild child in your heyday back in your city,” Artemis laughed, “I hate Metropolis.”

“Who doesn’t? It’s so crowded.”

“Uh, Clark doesn’t. He thrives there, no idea why, he grew up in Smallville. If anyone should be uncomfortable with Metropolis it should be the small-city country boy, but I guess it’s his thing.”

“I forget you know everyone.”

“We know a lot of people, are you’re slowly being let into our massive circle of very well-known people. Welcome to the group, I guess,” she laughed, “You'll either hate or love the fame that comes from this.”

“Well, if its paparazzi and press, I think I’ll hate it.”

“I can promise you right now that it’s not all paparazzi and press, we haven’t been bothered today, probably because we are on the move.”

“You shouldn’t say that, you’ll jinx it.”

“I know a lot about not jinxing it, but that’s a story for another time,” Y/N noticed that when Artemis said this her eyes glazed over and she looked upset.

“You don’t ever have to talk to me about something you’re not ready to talk about,” Y/N reassured her.

“Hey, the trauma makes me funny.”

“Two can play that game.”

They would ramble on for the rest of the walk to their college. Nothing really of substance, just getting to know each other further. She was glad she found a friend in Artemis, it would have sucked if the two of them didn’t get along, but with each word they exchanged, they had so much fun.

She even told Artemis about that time she played Katherine Howard in her school’s budget play of Six - The Musical. She was proud of the riffs she was able to do, but she didn’t talk about it often. She was never the type of brag about her achievements, no matter how amazing they were.

But Artemis and Y/N parted ways and Y/N went to her class and wrote the same, boring, scribbly and barely legible notes. She figured eventually she’d need nicer handwriting, but did she want to work on it? No.

When she finished, she saw Artemis and who she could only assume to be Wally, at Artemis’ class doors. She waved to Artemis, before Artemis called her over.

“Y/N! Hey, I would ask how class is, but this is Wally,” she gestured to the red-head boy beside her, and Y/N held out her hand to shake Wally’s.

“Hi, Wally.”

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you since Jason can’t shut up about you and my girlfriend likes you a lot.”

“Well that's sweet of you Artemis. You’re just so in love with me,” Y/N joked.

“Girl. You know it,” Artemis joked back.

“You two already have a close bond? That’s impressive,” Wally said, “Never seen anyone win over any of my friends this quickly,” he muttered.

They joked for a little while longer, just getting to know Wally before she had to go, she had to get to Jason’s.

The walk was a while away, so she went and sat on a park bench for a minute to check her phone, Jason had texted her.

Hey baby, are you coming over?

I am, yes. I actually just met Wally.

You met Wally and I wasn’t there to see it? C’mon.

Artemis introduced us! Go yell at her.

Oh. Never mind. I won’t do that.

Ha! Scared of her?

Maybe a little, she can be scary, okay?

You can’t tell but I’m laughing at you.

Dhmu.

That’s fine, I’ll just go hang out with Alfred and not you. He seems like he would be spiteful like me.

That’s unfair.

I thought you said don’t hit me up?

Fuck.

Checkmate.

I am upset.

No you’re not.

No I’m not.

She would walk down the street further, maybe within a couple steps to reach the Manor, when a man dragged her into an alleyway. She yelped.

“Uh, hello? Can I help you?” she asked, pretending she wasn’t terrified.

“How much would Bruce give me for you?” the attacker mumbled before he tried to knock her to the ground, but she had another plan.

He grabbed her, put his face close to hers, and she head-butted him, he would stumble back, and she started running to the Manor.

“Come here you fucking bitch!” he screamed. She could feel her nose bleeding as she ran and ran, the security saw her and pulled her into the gateway before drawing their guns and urging her to run to the steps of the Manor.

And she ran. The security at the door saw her and let her in, and yelled for Alfred.

“What is this nonsense, oh,” Alfred paused when he saw the blood running out of Y/N’s nose, “Miss Y/N, what happened to you?” he asked before grabbing her hand and pulling her into the entry-way bathroom and opening a first-aid kit.

“Okay so, what happened was I was walking to the Manor because my car got towed right? And this fucking bastard dude pops out from an alleyway and pulls me into it, asks some bullshit about how much Bruce would pay for me, when he grabbed me and tried to knock me down, when I head-butted him and started running,” she said, completely unphased.

Alfred didn’t respond to her and started to stop the bleeding when Bruce called for him, “In the entry-way bathroom, Master Wayne!” he answered.

Bruce came around the corner and saw Alfred was already tending to Y/N, “Well, this is the event where I meet my son’s girlfriend, when she is bleeding and running from a strange man in an alleyway.”

“Heh, sorry,” she said and outstretched her hand to shake his, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Bruce.”

“I can tell you’re going to be quite the addition to this household,” he said as he took her hand and shook it, “As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good. I guess you can’t get mad at Jase for being a reckless man now.”

“I really can’t.”

“Alright, you should be good, Miss Y/N.”

“Thank you, Alfred. But you really didn’t have to.”

“I’ve been taking care of 5 boys and 3 girls since most of them were little, Miss Y/N. A little blood is really no big deal for me to handle.”

“That’s obvious.”

“You can go see the boys now, they’re going to ask you though,” Bruce said.

“I know.”

She walked to Jason’s room, hoping that he wouldn’t have all of his siblings in the room, he did though.

“Hey, Y/N- what the fuck happened to you?” Jason exclaimed when she opened the door.

“Oh great, all your siblings are here. Anyway, I guess,” she paused, taking in a big breath so she could run through the events quickly, “So I was walking here ‘cause my car got towed, right? When some fucking bastard man grabs me and yanks me into an alleyway and starts going off about how much Bruce will pay him to get me back or something,” she paused again, “And when he tried to knock me down by getting really close and personal to my face, like an idiot I should add, I head-butted him.”

“You did what?’

“I’m not done yet, met your dad when I actually had blood running out of my nose because that's just my fucking luck. Okay, now you can be disappointed in me,” she joked.

“I will say again, you did what?”

“Something stupid?” she said.

“You could say that again, my god, what went through your head?”

“Uh, nothing. Just survival. Fight or flight but I head-butted a man, and hi, everyone.”

“Hi, Y/N, I’m Dick,” Dick said, “You clearly are meant for Jason,” he joked, “That's something he would do.”

“Don’t encourage her, Dick!”

Stephanie got up and greeted her, “You know, Y/N, I always wanted a crazy sister,” she joked, “I’m Stephanie, the black-haired girl is Cass, and the red-head is Barbara.”

“Me too,” Cass hopped onto the joke.

“It’s something else when you meet the girl your brother is dating after she head-butted a man, apparently,” Y/N laughed, “I know it’s far-fetched-”

“Not really,” Tim cut her off, “You know Jason protected Will when they were attacked?”

“That’s Tim, by the way,” Dick said.

“So you can’t yell at me for head-butting a man!” Y/N joked at Jason while going to sit beside him, he slinged an arm around her shoulder and leant his head into her head.

“Well, you seem like a nice enough girl,” Barbara said, “Take away the reckless behavior, and you are lovely.”

“That is valid, to be honest. Not exactly the way you want to meet your brother’s girlfriend.”

“You think?” Jason asked, sarcastically.

“Ha ha.”

“See, she thinks I’m funny, why can’t you fucks?”

Y/N laughed and then asked Dick, who was playing RE8 at the time, staring at the photo of Donna Bentiveno, “She’s cute, isn’t she, Dick?”

“Have I been staring?”

“Let’s just say Angie is probably very pissed at you.”

“Oh! Whoops. There’s a point to this, I forgot.”

“I don’t blame you, I remember forgetting there was a point and the little bitch devil doll would attack you.”

“Language.”

“Oh no, you’re lame. Gross.”

“Excuse me?” Dick asked as the rest of the room erupted in laughter.

“Do you guys see why I like her now?” Jason asked.

“Uh no, she’s mean,” Dick said.

“You’re going to die if you don’t start paying attention, Dick,” Y/N said.

“Oh!” and he died.

“And that kids, is why we listen to the person who’s 100%’ed the game.”

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

Y/N and Jason would spend hours with his brothers and sisters until the sun started to set and they all scattered to their own rooms to  do their own things. you can’t keep a lot of kids in one room for so long.

Once everyone left, Y/N placed her hands on Jason and kissed him, she was actually able to be laid on his pillow, he was able to pin her to the bed. And they did just that. He was on top of her, using his one arm to prop himself up and using his other hand to touch her face.

Her hands found their way into his hair like they always did, she found a lot of joy in playing with his hair. Their tongues danced together, they never fought or anything, they just enjoyed each other when Jason let out a small moan and she let out a small laugh.

“Keep it in your pants, Tiger,” she joked, “You’re not fully healed.”

“You literally smashed your face into another man but I can’t moan when I kiss you?”

“Because I know you want more.”

“Hell yeah I do,” he said as he went back for more, actually using his strength to keep her to the bed, but she didn’t protest this time.

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

Jim was startled awake by the buzzing of the intercom and could barely keep back a yawn as he dragged himself off the sofa and sloped towards the front door, his “quick kip” having turned into an hour-long nap. He wondered who would be visiting this time of the day. Freddie was away doing a photoshoot and Khaleel was at school, so he hadn’t been expecting any visitors.

‘Who is it?’ He mumbled sleepily into the intercom.

‘It’s me.’ A familiar voice replied.

Mary had started making a habit of popping around in the afternoon, even if she knew Freddie wasn’t there. Jim would make her a cup of tea and they would sit in the kitchen or the garden, chatting for a couple of hours. It seemed to be her way of extending an olive branch, and as odd as he sometimes found her, Jim was happy enough to oblige; having Mary as a friend was preferable to the hostility that once existed between them.

But when Mary stepped through the front door, Jim immediately sensed that something was amiss. The woman looked nervous, clutching a large carrier bag in her hands as her eyes darted around the hallway with uncertainty, like she was expecting a tiger to spring out of nowhere.

‘It’s lovely to see you.’ Jim took one of her hands in his own and pressed a kiss against her cheek, which seemed to pacify her, if only slightly. ‘Is everything alright?’

Mary hesitated, before giving him a rather forced smile. ‘Yes, everything’s fine.’ She glanced around again. ‘Freddie’s not here, is he?’

‘He has a photoshoot today.’

‘Oh, yes. Of course he does.’

Jim frowned, his thumb extending to gently stroke her knuckles reassuringly. ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’

She seemed tempted to lie again but must have realised that doing so would be pointless. She sighed and gave Jim’s hand a squeeze. ‘I need to talk to you about something.’

Jim took her through to the lounge, calling for Phoebe to put the kettle on for them all. He sat on one of the sofas beside Mary, noting how she fiddled with the carrier bag before setting it at her feet. Whatever was in it seemed to be the source of her discomfort.

‘Freddie’s parents have been in contact with me.’ She finally announced, taking Jim by surprise.

‘Ah.’ The Irishman now understood why she had been so wary about Freddie being present. ‘I see.’

‘I didn’t say anything because I knew Freddie would hit the roof if he found out I’ve been speaking to them. But they were desperate for my help and I didn’t know what else to do.’

‘You could have said no.’ Jim muttered, though he immediately felt like an ass when he saw Mary cringe with guilt. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. But he’s cut them off for a reason, Mary. They almost cost us our son.’

‘I know, I know. I’m so sorry, Jim.’ Her cheeks went pink and for a moment Jim was worried she might cry. ‘What they did to you and Freddie was unforgiveable. But they really regret their actions. They just want to talk to Freddie, tell him they’re sorry, explain.’

‘I don’t want to hear their explanations and neither does Freddie.’ Jim replied firmly. ‘There’s nothing to discuss. They did what they did, and there’s nothing they can say or do to redeem themselves. I know you’re just trying to help, Mary, but they’ve hurt Freddie enough. I won’t stand by and let them do it again. You tell them that if they truly care about Freddie, they’ll stay away.’

Mary nodded sadly. ‘I had a feeling you’d say that. I can’t say I blame you. Jer and Bomi have always been good to me but sometimes I think they blame me for not keeping Freddie “in check” so to say. Honestly, at times it felt as though they expected me to wave a bloody magic wand and just stop their son from being gay.’

‘They’re products of their time.’ Replied Jim with a sigh. ‘They’re good people, but if they can’t accept Freddie for who he is, then they can’t be a part of his life. Freddie’s tired of leading a double life, having to pretend he’s something he’s not for their comfort. His illness made him realise that life is too short to live by other people’s standards. I had hoped his parents would understand that but clearly they don’t.’

Silence overcame the pair, only interrupted when Phoebe walked in with a tray of tea and biscuits. The three of them fell into pleasant conversation for the next few hours, though Jim could tell that Mary had been upset by the whole ordeal and he made a point of holding her hand to comfort her. After Phoebe cleared away the dishes and retired to the conservatory, Jim escorted Mary to the front door, his eye falling upon the plastic carrier bag that she was still clinging to like a lifeline.

‘What’s in the bag?’ He enquired, ignoring his mother’s voice at the back of his mind reprimanding him for being nosy.

With great hesitation, Mary reached into the bag and pulled out a large baby blue quilt, holding it up so Jim could see. It appeared to be hand-knitted, embroidered with floral patterns and tiny white birds. In the middle, the word BIJOU had been sewn in thick, calligraphed letters.

‘Khaleel’s blanket.’ Jim observed, feeling his heart sink to the bottom of his ribcage.

‘She wants him to have it.’ Mary said softly, her eyes slightly moist. ‘In case she never gets to see him again.’

Jim knew that he should turn it down. He wasn’t going to be manipulated into feeling sorry for his in-laws, especially after everything that had happened. But he remembered the look of excitement on Khaleel’s face whenever he came back from Dādī and Dādā’s house and gleefully updated him on the progress of his new blanket. The child would sit and watch Jer knit for hours, following every rise and dip of the needle as if he was in a trance. Even two years later, he still asked about the blanket, confused as to why Dādī hadn’t finished it yet, why they never went around to Jer and Bomi’s for tea at the weekend anymore. Denying his poor boy the last remaining tie to his beloved grandparents seemed unacceptably cruel.

‘Thank you, Mary.’ Jim took the blanket, folding it up with the greatest of care. ‘I appreciate you telling me. I wish this could have turned out differently.’

‘Me too.’ Mary replied. ‘I’m sorry, Jim. Please, tell Freddie I’m sorry too.’

--

Jim had just sent Khaleel up to brush his teeth when he heard keys turning in the front door and the familiar sound of his husband’s voice calling, ‘darling, I’m home!’

He sighed, pulling out the blanket from where he had hidden it in the drinks cabinet and smoothed it out on the sofa, preparing himself for the row that was inevitably coming his way.

‘You won’t believe the day I’ve had.’ Freddie drawled as he glided into the lounge. ‘Roger came in with a raging hangover, so we all had to wait until he’d drank a litre of coffee before we-’

He cut off as soon as he noticed the blanket, the smile immediately disappearing from his face. Jim expected him to start screaming and shouting right then and there but he didn’t say a word. He seemed frozen, so shocked he couldn’t utter a syllable.

When he finally did speak, his voice was low and dangerous. ‘What the hell is that doing here?’

‘Mary brought it over.’ Jim said calmly. ‘Your mother gave it to her to give to Khaleel. She wants him to have it.’

More silence. Freddie wasn’t often left speechless, but right now he seemed genuinely lost for words. Jim could only imagine what was going through his head; all the suppressed memories that were suddenly resurfacing, coiling around his brain like a venomous snake.

‘Get rid of it.’ Freddie whispered.

‘We can’t keep this from him.’ Jim replied, being mindful not to raise his voice. ‘You know how much this blanket means to Khaleel. If he ever finds out we kept it from him, he’ll never forgive us.’

‘I want it gone!’ Freddie snapped, hands balling into fists like a stubborn child. ‘Why the fuck did you accept it? Why the fuck did Mary bring it? Who the hell does she think she is?’

He abruptly turned and started marching towards the phone, grabbing the handset, and stabbing at the buttons furiously.

‘Freddie, what are you doing?’

‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ Freddie growled, ‘I’m going to give that backstabber a piece of my mind! Hello, Piers? Put Mary on the phone. I don’t care if she’s asleep, put her on the phone right now-!’

‘Freddie!’ Jim snatched the handset and slammed it back on the receiver, startling the Persian man. ‘Don’t blame Mary for this. Your parents put her in an awkward position, and she did what she thought was right. I understand why you’re upset, and you have every right to be! But don’t take it out on her.’

Freddie scoffed. ‘Since when are you two the best of friends? She knows what my parents did to us, yet she’s willing to do their dirty work for them.’

‘She was just trying to help. She thought this might help you reconcile with them if you saw how much they care.’

‘If they really cared about me, they would have come themselves; instead, they’re using my ex-girlfriend as a fucking middleman!’

‘You know I resent them as much as you do, but we can’t go on lying to Khaleel forever. He hasn’t seen his grandparents in two years, Freddie. He’s always asking when we’re going to see Dādī and Dādā again, and I can barely look him in the eye when I use the old “they’re busy�� excuse. One day, he’s going to find out what really happened, and he’ll resent us for not telling him the truth.’

‘And how the hell do you explain to a seven-year-old that his own grandparents don’t value him as much as his cousins because he’s adopted, and his parents are poofs? Please tell me Jim because I’d love to know! You don’t think I want to tell him the truth? Do you think I enjoy lying to his face whenever he asks about them? I’m so glad you have such a high opinion of me, darling!’

Freddie’s dark eyes swivelled to the blanket, sparkling with tears, and filled with hate; he suddenly grabbed it, making a beeline for the fireplace only to be intercepted by Jim.

‘Freddie, don’t.’ Jim begged, his grip firm on the blanket, though he made sure not to pull it in fear that it might tear. ‘Don’t do it. You’ll never forgive yourself.’

‘Fuck off!’ Freddie spat, tugging in an effort to get it out of Jim’s hands. ‘I don’t want any trace of those people in my house! If you truly loved me, you’d understand!’

Jim froze, his hold on the blanket loosening. Then he released it altogether.

‘Fine.’ He said coldly, in a voice that made Freddie feel like a ghost had passed through him. ‘Go ahead. Burn the damn thing. But when Khaleel asks me when his blanket is coming, I’m not going to lie to him anymore. You can explain to him that you tossed it into the fire. So, go ahead. Do it.’

Freddie stared at the flames determinedly, Jim’s words doing somersaults in his head. His fingers itched to just throw the quilt and watch it burn but picturing the look of heartbreak on Khaleel’s face deterred him from doing so.

‘Fuck.’ He hissed, tearing away from the fireplace, and fleeing the lounge.

Fucking Jim, he thought as he tore up the staircase, swearing under his breath as he made it to the landing and stormed towards the airing cupboard, fucking fucking Jim.

He threw open the cupboard door and was about to bundle the blanket behind the towels when he noticed the words that had been sewn into it.

BIJOU

Tears pooled into Freddie’s eyes. Almost instinctively, he brought the blanket close to his face and softly inhaled. It smelled of lavender and the spices Mama used for cooking. It smelled like home.

Freddie furiously wiped his eyes and shoved the blanket right into the far end of the cupboard.

Part 34 of the Jimercury kid series

Oof, you weren't lying when you said that angst was on its way for our favourite family. Firstly, Freddie's parents reaching out to Mary and trying to make her act like a pacifier, instead of say, Kash, is very plausible, especially after Kash's indirect involvement in the entire fiasco.

This is honestly such a tough decision for Freddie, and Jim too. No matter how big an olive branch his parents extend, the shadow of their actions will always loom over their relationship. I really feel for our two dads. And it's definitely not an easy thing to explain to Khaleel, either. But should they give it a shot? Or is it better to keep from their son the fact that his grandparents were the cause of his trauma?

I just love how well you're able to convey the emotions of your characters in such few words. I could not only see, but also feel their pain, and oof... hats off to you for being so evocative with your words.

I really cannot wait to see what happens next💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

(All the parts of this series can also be found under the tag #freddie and jim and their baby on this blog)

[buckyownsmylife]

How I Want You - Logan Delos x Reader Fluff

The one where Logan confesses that he loves you.

Warnings: angst, Logan’s crappy father, sexual themes, selfdoubt and selfhatred.

A/N: No, I couldn’t help myself. I’m obsessed with Taylor Swift and it shows.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

It was way too fucking late for anyone to be up, and still, much too early for Logan to have gone to bed. Which was why the second my phone rang, I forsake my comfy blankets and grabbed my keys, knowing exactly who it was - the only person who would call me at such a time and the only number whose call would get through during my sleeping hours.

“Where are you?” Was all I asked, although I already knew that the answer wouldn’t be satisfactory to my plan of going back to sleep as soon as possible. “You know what? Just stay where you are. I’m coming to get you. This is why I download that find my friends app in the first place.”

“I’m home,” he interjected, his tone sounding very firm, and very tired, and very not drunk for the time of day. It caught me by surprise. “I’ll be waiting.”And then he was gone. Hung up in a show of just how quickly he needed me to get to him.

It made my skin crawl and heartbeat pick up, that intuition that only ever acted when it came to him telling me something very bad had happened, or at the very least, that he was as far away from okay as he could get. And if he was home, then it truly was the worst case scenario. 

I got there as fast as I could without breaking any laws, and I barely allowed myself the time to kill off the engine before I was running out of the vehicle and into my best friend’s arms. Logan welcomed with a silent desperation that came in the form of reaching for me as a child would for any sort of parental guidance, and the anxiety that had been coursing through my veins while I couldn’t see his state little by little began to be replaced by anger. Pure, unadulterated, blinding anger.

“Get in the car, Lo,” I called him by the childhood nickname he pretended to hate, knowing it would help in my task to calm him down. “I’ll be right back.” He wanted to stop me the second that he realized what my intention was. I knew it because he seized my wrist and held it tightly, stopping me from moving any further away from him. But the second that he saw my eyes, when I turned around to stare at him and silently order him to let go, he did just so, knowing better than anyone else that when I got into this mindset, there was no one who could possibly get me out of it.

“Okay.” He nodded, and I knew he was watching me as I stepped into the huge mansion Logan did not call home. It only made me even more sure of what I intended to do. With quick strides, I crossed the main floor in the direction of his father’s office, and I didn’t even knock before I slammed it open, fire burning inside of me.

“What the fuck did you say to him?” I yelled as soon as James’ eyes met mine after my loud entrance startled him from whatever work he was trying to do at such a late hour - work he had always prioritized over his son.

“What?” He asked, clearly not expecting my sudden outburst, and probably not immediately relating my loss of reason to his only son. It only made me grow angrier, the fact that just because he didn’t worry about Logan, he couldn’t imagine anyone else caring for him either.

“What the fuck did you tell Logan that made him so upset? Only you can make him feel bad about himself, so I know it’s your fault. Tell me.” When realization finally seemed to hit him, no ounce of regret or shame painted James’ features, but that didn’t surprise me. Even if he had never been anything other than sweet to me, being Logan’s best friend meant I knew who he really was, and that implied that I knew every single one of his flaws as a father. He just didn’t know that I did, until then.

“You’re a smart girl, Y/N. You really shouldn’t waste your time on a failure like him.” The harsh reality of what he had said hurt me so deeply that it immediately drained me of all anger, leaving only a sickly feeling of disgust behind.

“Logan deserves every single second of my attention, and he deserves yours too. I’m sorry you can’t see it, but the only one who’s missing out is you.” Cold, bitter tears of pity for the sweet man I knew flowed down my cheeks, but I was quick to wipe them away. Logan didn’t need to see them.

“How was it in there?” He asked as soon as I was inside of the car again, his lips curled in a small smile that was half self-conscious, half knowing of what his father was capable of saying when it came to him, but I couldn’t yet stomach what I’d heard, so I just clutched his hand tightly with mine.

“Doesn’t matter. How about a sleepover?”

Logan’s P.O.V.

The drive to her place was silent, but she kept reaching for my hand every time she could, like she needed the physical reminder that I was there with her, instead of back at my house. Like she knew that I needed to be reminded of that too.

What would I do without her? Ever since I could remember, it was us against the world. Or more precisely, us against my father, and as a child, he was pretty much the only boundaries to the world that I knew. But even after I grew and started to see past my father’s empire, when I started to make real, lousy mistakes, instead of the childhood errors that would get me grounded, she still stuck up for me. She was always there, whenever I needed her.

My eyes trailed up her body, taking notice of the way her sleepwear still managed to make her curves enticing. She always looked beautiful in my eyes. No matter how many women I slept with, they could never come close to the beauty that I saw in my best friend and only in her.

“What do you see in me?” I blurted out, suddenly overtaken by the realization of just how inferior to her I was. It made my chest feel tighter, and breathing became a bit harder. The tears that would never come for my father suddenly stung my eyes, and I had to rub the palms of my hands against them to stop myself from crying.

“I’m sorry?” It seemed like she wasn’t expecting the sudden interruption to the silence that had fallen between us, but the desperation that had forced me to ask the question that plagued me had been dulled by my fear of her answer. I couldn’t bear the thought of knowing she thought less of me. I couldn’t bear the thought of being less in her eyes than she was in mine.

“Logan, what do you see in yourself?” She asked, once more glancing at me to make sure I was fine, which I was certain I would be able to pretend like I was. But of course, I could never fool her. So when she squeezed my hand to get me to talk, I found myself answering honestly, “Nothing. I-I’m nothing, Y/N. I’m just a waste of space and air and energy, your energy, and I have absolutely no idea why you put up with me.”

We had arrived at her apartment complex, I realized, but only because suddenly there were arms thrown over me, and a familiar neck for me to nuzzle with a familiar perfume that seemed to be the only thing able to relax my very soul.

“Well, that’s the exact opposite of what I see in you, Logan Delos. I see so much, I see everything. I see the whole wide world in you. You’ve always meant that for me. And to see you doubt that… There’s not a day in my life where I don’t hate your father for making you think so little of yourself.” That had me laughing against her skin, but it was a wet sound, unfortunately. Still, she didn’t seem to mind, allowing me to cling tightly to her as she drew soft patterns on my back. “You can’t say bad things about yourself, ever. That’s an order.”

After that last comment made me pull away from her to freely laugh, she looked patiently at me with the most loving smile on her face. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?” I asked, caressing the side of her face and grinning with pride when she leaned against my touch.

“Almost as much as you mean to me, I hope.” I swear, only she could have me laughing after feeling so down a few minutes before. 

“Way more than that.”

“I doubt it.”

For a while, it was a staring contest between the two of us in her tiny car. I wanted to lean in and kiss her. God, I wanted to find out if her lips were as soft as they looked like But the second my hand grazed her cheek, she seemed to snap out of whatever reverie we had fallen on, quickly putting some space between us to unbuckle her belt.

“Let’s go,” she called out, reaching out for my hand as we walked towards her apartment. The second we were in the familiar setting of her living room, I felt the last bit of weight that had settled over my chest suddenly vaporize and disappear.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I acknowledged as I took off my coat. “I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing,” she tried to wave it off, but I couldn’t let her do that. No, I needed her to understand that this was important to me, and I started by pulling her close so I could cradle her face between my hands and force her to see the seriousness in my so often joking eyes.

“I owe you a lot.” That was all I managed to say, as my throat closed at the quickening of my heartbeat. The moment felt heavy with something we couldn’t find it in ourselves to explore, and so we just stood there in silence, eyes cautiously exploring each other’s features until one of us decided to break the tension with a joke.

This time, it was her.

“I’m glad I downloaded that app on my phone and activated your location on yours. I seriously considered buying you a nice collar, with a tracker or something, so I could always know where you were when you called me. Especially when drunk.” I didn’t expect her words to have such an effect on me, but it was instantaneous. I felt my cock harden on my pants, and I knew that she could feel it too as I hid my blushing face in the crook of her neck.

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you really that oblivious?” I tried to pass it off as a joke, hoping to calm down despite keeping her touch close to me, but when her fingers buried themselves in my hair, I knew she’d only keep me balancing on this tightrope we’d been dancing on for way too long.

“I had no idea you were into that kind of stuff. Does the idea of wearing a collar entice you that much, Lo?” She asked, and although I knew she also wanted to pass it off as a joke, her voice sounded different, raspier. Filled with desire, I realized with a jolt, finally detaching myself from her to look her in the eye again. 

This was it. This was my chance to say something that would irrevocably change the nature of our relationship forever, but hopefully, it’d become all I’d ever wanted.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“If it’s a collar that shows I belong to you, definitely.” I inhaled sharply at the words that fell oh-so-easily from my best friend’s lips. I knew him enough - I knew him way too much - to doubt the veracity of them, but that didn’t stop me from being overwhelmed at the realization that Logan wanted to be mine just as much as I wanted to be his.

“C’mon, stop teasing me,” I pleaded, trying to put some space between us, but failing to do so. Logan kept me close to him, gaze heavy on my body and when I still refused to meet his eyes, he held my jaw and forced me to do so.

“No, you c’mon. You know this isn’t me teasing you like when we were kids. I really, really want you. And not only like a best friend.” I didn’t even notice I was biting my lip until he pried it away with his thumb, staring longingly at it. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Before becoming a kiss, it was just him sucking that same bottom lip into his mouth, making me gasp and hold onto his shoulders for support. But then, he fused our mouths together, licking his way inside my mouth until I couldn’t breathe anymore.

When my eyes fluttered open to find his, I could barely see his pupils anymore. “Well, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep after that,” I joked, trying to ease some of the tension in the room, but failing miserably. There was too much desire between us to disappear just like that. We’d need to find a way to release it if we were to ever move past this.

“I’d be offended if you were.” It felt nice to laugh with him after this kiss, this revelation of sentiments. It felt like, regardless of what we would become after tonight, I wouldn’t lose the most important person in my life, my best friend. The only one who could make me laugh like this, even after a breathtaking kiss, apparently.

“Wanna do something else, instead?”

[accidentallyadramablog]

Review: Down With Love (2010)

I felt a little nostalgic this week and decided to rewatch Down With Love, a romcom out of Taiwan featuring Ella Chen (from Hana Kimi) and Jerry Yan (Meteor Garden).

This is more of a brain dump as opposed to a real review. More below the cut.

Let me just start with the fact I love dramas with tomboys, gender benders, and gender non-conforming women and girls in general. I'm a 40 yr old gnc bi-woman, so some of these storylines really resonate with me - despite the trend of making those female characters glaringly stupid and pitiable.

Tags: Nanny, Love Square, Tomboy, Male Chases Female First, Sismance, Rich Man/Poor Woman, Pretends To Be Gay, Single Parent, Sisterhood, Boss/Employee Relationship

Our girl Ella Chen plays tomboy Yang Guo. Yang Guo works, has friends, and a shitty boyfriend of 5 years. She acts naïve, but she actually has a lot of life experience due to a *tragic backstory*. After her mother died, her father ruined the family business. Their family plunged from riches to rags and their father abandoned them. Yang Guo is 6 when this happens and it falls on her older sister Yang Duo to raise them both while homeless, starving, and navigating the homeless camps in the parks of Taipei.

Yang Duo (Kelly Huang) has raised her little sister by herself, beginning from poverty and homelessness to having a house and making a life for themselves. They bicker good-naturedly, but Yang Duo is very protective and supportive of her sister. She's managed to earn a job at a prestigious law firm as an admin assistant with strong accounting skills. She is seen as frugal, clever, and competent. Several characters make comments throughout the series about how it was a shame that she didn't go into certain careers because she's so accomplished despite not having a formal education. It's obvious that Yang Duo has put her own dreams and happiness on hold to make sure that she and Guo have financial security. Yang Duo is my favorite character btw. She is a supporting character that is multi-faceted and has her own character arc. I really like seeing her growth in this drama, and she gets some cute side couple action later in the series. Skip the last episode.

Due to growing up in poverty and scrabbling to lower-middle-class, the two girls work nonstop. After Guo is fired from her job waiting tables, Duo gets Guo a job as a nanny for her boss Xiang Yu Ping by lying and saying Guo is a lesbian.

Xiang Yu Ping (Jerry Yan) owns his own law firm and is seen as cold and overbearing. He is raising his dead brother's kids and none of the nannies he's hired have lasted either due to being chased off by the kids (a la the Sound of Music) or by trying to seduce him because he's a rich handsome lawyer. Relieved to have found a nanny who definitely wouldn't seduce him (because he thinks she's a lesbian), he just pays an unreasonably huge salary to keep her there with the kids despite their abuse.

Supporting characters: Amanda Chu as the best friend Yan Ling with the messy dating life is also delightful, but I've enjoyed all her roles. I may rewatch Lion Pride for her, now that I'm walking down memory lane. The office of 'just some lawyer dudes being dudes' are funny. I love when they gather around to watch drama and place bets on what's happening. They're also slackers. I would love/hate to work with them.

So that's the setup.

Honestly, I hate the 'pretends to be gay' plots. It's typically really offensive and this was no exception in a lot of places. (It's not at the same level as Personal Taste, but it's bad.) One of the cases Yu Ping takes on is unlawful termination and blackmail of a gay teacher and he asks for Yang Guo's advice to help the man. Taiwan was trying in 2010, but it wasn't exactly good representation to have a fake lesbian help an actual gay man faced with employment discrimination and blackmail over his orientation. When I compare this with Love is Science (2021 twdrama) that has two out lgbt characters employed in their office with significant roles, I'm just so happy that lgbtq media representation is still progressing.

I don't care about Yu Ping's best friend Qi Ke Zhong or Yu Ping's ex-girlfriend Ding Hui Fan because they're both terrible people that don't deserve forgiveness and their only purpose was to drag out our leads getting together. Since this was a rewatch, I knew how much I hated their scenes and skipped them as much as I could. You're not missing anything. Someone on YT needs to just make a Yang Duo/Xiang Yu Ping cut, tbh. Also? Go ahead and skip the deadbeat father.

The nanny bit only lasts three episodes (the kids are adorable), but it's long enough for Yu Ping to catch feelings and think his lesbian nanny is cute. He actually is not cold and overbearing as episode 1 makes him out to be. Yu Ping is supportive and tries to be a good friend to Guo. When he thinks her 'girlfriend' is cheating on her, he absolutely flips out because he feels she deserves to be respected and loved in her relationship. He learns about her family. He learns about her friends. He knows where to look for her when she's upset. He knows how to cheer her up and later, he knows how to make the perfect date. When he finds out she lied about being a lesbian, he's not even mad. He admits it was his fault for making certain demands in the employment contract. He's just upset that he's lost chances to flirt and court her.

Listen. It's a dumb premise in this drama and the misunderstandings suck. But it's so refreshing to see male leads be decent to women that are romantically and sexually unavailable to them. The bar is so low, in RL and in dramas, that Yu Ping belongs in the top tier of male drama leads. This dude was just going to continue in a supportive friendship for an undetermined time, both when he thought she was a lesbian and later when his shitty weasel of a best friend dated her under false pretenses. He didn't burden her with a confession until her relationship was over. And whenever she asked for space, he gave it to her. And when she confronted him on instances of jealously, he apologized and gave her space.

Yu Ping never tries to change Guo. He doesn't give her a makeover. She has a makeover scene that is instigated by another character and all he does is try to make her comfortable when she's so obviously uncomfortable. Then he cheers inwardly when he sees her overcome her awkwardness and have confidence. But by the end of the drama, she is still dressing and acting the same as in act 1. It honestly reminded me a little of Coffee Prince in that the fancy male lead is still just as enamored with his gnc woman by the end and the way she presents herself doesn't have an effect on their romantic relationship. Again, this is content catered to me as a bi & gnc woman in a relationship with a cis-het man. I often am mistaken for a man when I go out with my spouse and he's still super into me so let's normalize gnc people with gc people already it's 2021.

Anyway, if you watch romances for kisses, there's really only a couple of pecks and one nice passionate kiss and they're all in basically the last 3 eps of the series.

The last episode sucks. Stop at episode 15. Seriously. Don't watch episode 16. Why oh why do you let terrible people back in your life? Qi Ke Zhong and Ding Hui Fan are toxic and should but cut out of their lives. The end of ep 15 had a happy ending with a family-style breakfast for our two sisters with their boyfriends. Ep 16 threw in some more misunderstanding, jealousy, and separations followed by a time skip for no reason and brought back my two least favorite characters.

Anyway, I will live in my little world with Yang Duo and her sweet lawyer boyfriend Liang Zhi Hao (Ian Yim/Cyran Yan/Yan Yi En yeah, this actor has three stage names) that supports her interests and self-determination while they save money on mass transit by using his motorbike. And they build her dream home that she designs. Perhaps they put aside funds for her to pursue a degree in what she's passionate about.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Seven

Words: 4.5k

Warning(s): explicit language, sexual situations, drug abuse, violence

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NIKKI

"Nikki, what the hell are you doing?" Vivian asks me as we walk down the stairs of the law firm. 

"I've broken every fuckin' vow except 'till death do us part' and I'll be fucked to hell if we stuck it out and stayed with each other after the worst bullshit just to fucking divorce." I state and she stays quiet for a moment before I'm stumbling back when she halts and snatches away from me, glaring up at me. 

"What if I want a divorce?" She asks. 

"I'd tell you you're full of shit." I snap and she raises a brow and crosses her arms. 

"Then what the hell was the point of hounding me for a divorce just to do this?!" She barks at me. 

"To prove a point I guess, I don't fucking know." I admit. 

"To prove a point?! What point were you trying to prove?! That even when we're not together you still have the control in the relationship?!" She yells.

"I don't have any fucking control in this relationship, are you fucking me?! I haven't had any control since day fucking one, Vivian!" 

"Are you fucking serious?!" She screams at me, frustration all over her face. "You have always had control, Nikki, trust me, I know, I'm the one that had to lay down and take your bullshit and give up what I wanted to do just so you'd feel in control!"

"I told you to go to fucking New York to go to school, did I not? What the hell did you do? You stayed! You can't get pissed at me for not giving you what you supposedly think I promised you!" 

"No, Nikki, I'm not pissed at you for not giving me what you promised--I'm pissed because you've given me years of fucked up shit that was never supposed to even be a part of the plan!" She has tears in her eyes, her voice shaking…

She's right. I'm not going to tell her she's wrong…

I sigh and rub the back of my neck, exhaling, as she wipes her eyes. 

"...Look, me and the guys are going to a different rehab, and I'll actually stick with it, and I want to work this out." I tell her, honestly. "I just don't know how to come back from the shit we've done to each other, Viv, but if we can figure out how, then I wanna do it." 

She doesn't say anything, looking at me with her pretty green eyes, nodding slightly. 

I didn't realize that once we agreed to work on our marriage, that all hell would break loose in the midst of repairing the damage. 

Me and the guys, except Mick, were sent to another rehab because the first one was too obnoxious, and by the second one, we were actually getting somewhere with each other as a band and individually, including the people closest to us in our lives. For me, that was Vivian.

My leg can't stop shaking as I repeatedly tap my foot, waiting for my counselor to get in and meet Vivian for the first time.

I exhale and glance at her, her red hair curled, reaching just over her boobs, long legs taken up by black stockings that have lace trim mid-thigh, just peeking out from under her black dress, black heels tapping quietly on the floor, her dark red nails standing out against the cover of the shitty crossword she's flipping through. Her perfume has the whole little area she's in smelling good and her red lips rub together for a moment as she doesn't even notice me staring at her. 

It's a Saturday and I'm assuming she's going out with Sharise or something when she leaves here, or she dressed like this to torture me, knowing I haven't had sex in nearly two months, starting in Japan back in December, and my right hand is my best friend currently. 

My fucking balls hurt as she shifts her legs, uncrossing them to cross them the opposite, now. 

If it were up to me they'd be wide open and either around my hips or my head. 

I keep my hand pressed to my lips, resting my elbow on the arm of the chair, focused on her.

I slide down in my chair a little to try to see what kind of panties she's wearing--if she's wearing any at all. 

It wouldn't surprise me if she's not wearing any at all. Just to fuck with my head like she loves to do. 

"Take a picture and it'll last longer." She tells me flatly, not taking her eyes off the book. 

"I would if I had a camera." I don't even deny staring at her and she flicks her gaze to me. "Or a video camera. That'd be better." I add. 

"Ha. Ha." She sarcastically lets out and I smirk, watching her get up to grab her purse from the empty chair adjacent to me, leaning down to dig through it. 

It takes everything in my power not to get behind her, bend her over it, slide her panties to the side and start poun--

"We're here to start the process of fixing things between us and you're here only focused on sex." She states and I snap out of it. 

"No, I'm not." I argue, furrowing my brows. 

"Nikki, I know when you're picturing having sex with me." 

"I'm always picturing having sex with you." I state. "And you know exactly what you're doing." 

The faintest, smallest little grin comes to her lips as she goes to sit down again. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." She mumbles and I look at her. 

"You're cruel." I mumble and she rolls her eyes. 

"Oh, whatever." She replies. 

"You look hot." 

"Shut up." 

"We can be done in ten seconds." I say next and she goes red. 

"Stop, Nikki!" She scolds me.

"C'mon, Viv, we've never fucked on a desk before." I point out. 

"We've broken into Doc's office just to mess around on his desk, Nikki." She reminds me. 

"Well, we've never fucked on a therapist's desk, so c'mon, it'll be quick."

"I--" she starts laughing, not believing me, "--am not having sex in a rehab facility. I'm not that horny." 

"So you admit you are horny to some degree, though." I say and she rolls her eyes. 

"Shut up."

"Just flash me or something." 

"Nikki."

"Please?"

"You're so weird." She ignores my request while I'm pinching the bridge of my nose. 

"I'm in pain, Vivian." I say next, groaning, exaggerating. 

"Sounds like a personal problem." 

"Fuck." I lean my head back, rubbing my face. 

The door opens and my counselor comes in, smiling at us. 

"Sorry, I'm late." She says, stepping to Vivian, extending her hand. "I have heard lots about you, I'm Amber." 

"Vivian. It's nice to meet you." Vivian replies, smiling her shiny smile that should win her an Oscar because she wears it so well even when she's fucking miserable--I obviously know from experience. 

Amber sits behind her desk as Vivian sits back down in the chair, and she looks up from her paperwork at us, raising her brows. 

"If we're going to start this grueling process, I highly suggest you two get comfortable being within three feet of each other, again." She adds.

Me and Vivian exchange looks, before she sighs and stands up, walking to the little couch I'm sitting on, plopping down beside me. 

I smirk to myself, looking at her from the side of my eye. 

"Okay, let's just get to it, Vivian, I've gotten a brief history of your husband, and I feel as though I can sort of, kind of, pin point a thing or two that has lead to the point that you two are at currently, but I'd really like to learn a little bit about you because all that's portrayed publicly to all of us is he's this nitty gritty, abrasive rock God, and you're the angel that tamed him to settle down." She explains and Vivian scoffs, raising her brows. "I know it sounds ridiculous but that's what's given in magazines and pictures taken of you two." 

"Yeah." Vivian nods. 

"And I don't think that's true, I don't think everything is happy and sunshine and, 'oh, we're opposites but that's what we love about each other,' and blah, blah, or else neither of you would be here admitting your marriage is in shambles...so, becoming familiar with Nikki--sober--the way that I have the past week gives me a sense of who he really is without the drugs and the cameras and the fans and the girls, because in here he's only got himself. He doesn't have to upkeep the persona he puts on to make it seem like everything's perfect. And, although you aren't a patient here, I really want you to allow yourself to just be and differentiate between who you are to the public, and who you are privately, because--from what I've heard--they're two completely different people." She says next and Vivian nods. "So, who is Vivian Kinston and how did she get together with Nikki Sixx?" She offers a warm smile and Vivian exhales, already looking overwhelmed…"In three descriptions, who were you when you met Nikki?" 

"A very religious, ballet dancing, perfectionist." Vivian says and Amber nods. 

"Let's dissect that and break it down for a moment." She says next. "Okay, religious--was that on your own or passed through your family or…?"

"Both of my parents, but mainly my mom." She replies and Amber nods. 

"Okay, and what is mom like?" 

"Very strict Christian, we couldn't have anything secular in the house...I'm not sure what she's like now but when I last saw her she had the pastor I grew up with trying to exorcise a demon from me because she found out I was engaged to Nikki." She tells her and Amber's brows shoot up. 

"When was that?" 

"'82, '83, around that time." Vivian explains. 

"So you haven't seen mom in close to six years." 

"Yeah." 

"Okay...you were a ballet dancer when you met," she starts the next point. 

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Since I can remember." Vivian informs her. 

"So, a strict Christian upbringing, and a very, very, intricate form of dance that requires a lot of discipline, since you were probably a toddler." 

"Yeah." 

"And is that where the perfectionism comes in, through your background with dance?"

"No." 

"No, okay."

"My mom and my upbringing." Vivian explains. "Anytime I did something my mom didn't like or approve of or thought other people would lose their minds over if they knew I was doing it, she'd get onto me and would constantly drill into my head, 'this is not what we do, Vivian'." 

"Wow." Amber nods, her brows slightly furrowed. "So, it doesn't come from a place of that physical drive to be perfect at most things you do, it comes from a mental and emotional drive of not wanting people to know what skeletons are in the closet that would make them think less of you." 

Vivian nods, taking a deep breath. 

"Okay, and do you think that sense of perfectionism from your mother has helped you or harmed you in the long run?" 

"Harmed." She's saying it nearly before Amber can get her words out of her mouth. 

"And why is that?" 

"Because I grew up with her holding me to a nearly unreachable standard, and hounding unrealistic expectations onto me." 

"And in turn…"

"...It's made me do the same to him." Vivian says and I stare at the floor. 

"What unrealistic expectations, or unreachable standard have you held him to?" 

"Not doing the things that he's done." She says next. 

"What things?" 

"Infidelity and drug and alcohol addiction." 

"Why is expecting your husband not to cheat on you or put drugs and alcohol before you an unrealistic expectation that is unattainable for him?" Amber asks next and I rub my lips together. 

"Because of who he is and what he does." Vivian says next and Amber raises her brows. 

"So you think because he's Nikki Sixx--big time rockstar--that it's not realistic to expect him to do what he is supposed to do as your husband which is stay faithful and not put substances before you?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh, I see." Amber looks at me and I sigh. "Was your relationship ever open or polygamous, during or prior to marriage?" 

"No." She shakes her head. 

"Was he addicted to anything when you got married?"

"He did drugs and drank but at that point in time he didn't have a heavy reliance on it, no."

"An unrealistic expectation would be you telling him he can sleep with other women but then you getting angry every time he did. That's setting an unrealistic expectation of, 'I'm giving you permission to indulge in sex with other women but I expect you not to,' or him being addicted to heroin when you got married and you expecting him to drop any addiction he has solely based on the fact that you two got married. That's an unrealistic expectation. Him being a famous rock musician has nothing to do with his ability, or lack thereof, to be monogamous and sober." She explains to Vivian. "So you wanting your husband to not have an affair and not get strung out was not an unrealistic expectation that you had in a moment of naivety." She assures her.

"Okay." Vivian sounds like she's been waiting to hear that for a while…

"And I believe the issues you two are facing the most from both Nikki, and yourself, have grown from the root of how you two think. I know we hear the saying, 'opposites attract,' but we don't think about how sometimes when people are too opposite it acts like hot and cold air when it mixes and if it's in a big enough whirl, or big enough of a spectrum, it creates a tornado or a hurricane." She says next. "Religion equals a sense of morality, your history with ballet equipped you with a fair amount of discipline, and that perfectionism that you spoke on is your way of caring so much about what others think of you, you sacrifice yourself and just smile to keep things looking amazing on the outside."

Vivian nods. 

"I asked him to describe you in three words, and he said, 'beautiful, depressed, belligerent'." She tells her and I slowly see tears coming to Vivian's eyes. "Nikki admitted to me that when he met you, he had no sense of morality, he was doing whatever he wanted, when he wanted, he had no discipline in terms of controlling himself around drugs and women, and he couldn't give less of a care about what people thought of him." She explains. "And that might even been fun and exciting when you were just starting out but once you're married and he's gotten all these eyes on him suddenly, there are expectations put on the both of you to be this couple who has everything, and you're both attractive, and he's the bad boy and you're the good girl and you just fell in love is the only explanation you have for making the relationship work to the point of wanting to get married and you have a great house and matching cars and all this and all that and you're in the press smiling and laughing and holding hands and hugging up on each other and oh, it's a wonderful life, but as soon as you get alone…" she trails off, looking at the both of us knowingly. "He's high, you're suffering, and both of you are living a hell. But nobody can know that because you're Nikki and Vivian Sixx. You two are perfect because he doesn't cheat on you like other rockstars do to their wives and girlfriends. He doesn't put drugs and alcohol before you like so many others do to their girlfriends and their wives. He doesn't turn into this monster you don't recognize and lash out like a dog at you after a night of sitting in his closet and shooting up, because he 'loves' you, and you don't have to keep quiet for years while it just keeps adding up and adding up until finally you beat on your husband and those around you over minuet instances because the big things you were probably justified to get that angry over were swept under the rug and were never dealt with for years--because that's not what you do." She ties it right back to Vivian's mother. 

A tear rolls down Vivian's cheek, neither of us expecting it to be this heavy just during her introduction to Viv. 

"If we don't stop that mentality, it's going to poison every relationship around you that it hasn't already and when you have children it's going to be a curse on them just like it's a curse on you." She tells her, as Viv sniffles, trying to keep up with wiping her tears away. "I've already been on him about his upbringing burdening him, so please don't think this is a personal attack on you."

Viv nods, mouthing, "okay."

"You two want to make this relationship better and be better for one another, we are going to have to tear down six years worth of walls and blockades and gut this entire thing completely and start again. It's not going to be easy, you're probably going to learn things about each other you've been hiding and maybe even amicably decide to divorce before it's all over with, but you are both going to heal and start the process of forgiveness. With yourselves, with your parents, with your friends, and with each other."

She gives the both of us some homework...

"I want you two to prepare to tell each other everything you've not told one another for next time we meet." Amber tells us and the color drains from Viv's face, I know for a fucking fact that I don't look much different from her.

"What?" Vivian asks her.

"If we're healing this relationship we need everything in the dark in the light so we aren't building on an old foundation of secrets." She states. Vivian just nods hesitantly before we're dismissed.

"Vivian." I stop her out in the hall before she can leave, grabbing gently at her wrist.

"Yeah?" She asks me. 

"I love you." I tell her and she looks at me, smiling a little. 

"I'll see you Wednesday." She replies, squeezing my hand before she walks away. 

What the hell? I tell her and I love her and she just fucking says, "I'll see you Wednesday'?" 

I watch as she goes down the hall, heels clicking, hair down her back…

Goddamn. 

This is definitely my payback for taking my time with her for granted, because now that I'm in my right mind and not ruining our marriage, she barely even looks at me. 

At least she was actually wanting to work things out, because after the Vanity bullshit, I thought we'd never make it out after the first time I saw her since it had happened.

July 1987

I brace myself against the bathroom wall as my whole body goes numb for a moment, my eyes rolling momentarily. 

"Sixx, c'mon, we gotta get goin', Viv's here!" Fred yells from behind the door, his fist beating at it. 

Fuck him. Fuck this tour. Fuck this band. Fuck everything right now. 

Viv's just got here from the airport, she flew back in earlier this morning and I've been hiding, completely avoiding her, but I can't anymore. 

The media's in a frenzy since Vanity aired all of our dirty laundry, only making Viv and I both on edge even more. 

We've been denying the shit out of Vanity's engagement claims, but I don't think people are buying it as much as we'd like to think they are. 

I take in a breath and stumble to the mirror, looking at myself. 

Not too bad for a low down, dirty, bastard. 

Opening the bathroom door to see where Fred's waiting for me, I glance past his shoulder to see Vivian.

She looks like she feels like hell, but has managed to pull herself together. 

Makes two of us--well, kind of, at least. 

"C'mon, the guys are already at the venue." 

Fred tells me. 

"Great." I smirk, patting his shoulder, stepping to Vivian. 

I don't think either of us are taking into consideration the amount of utter bullshitting we're about to have to do. 

I also don't expect the amount of paparazzi waiting for us right outside the hotel's doors.

As soon as the door opens, screaming, flashes, invasive questions come hurtling our way. It feels closterphobic enough to make Vivian grab my hand, tight, curling closer into me as if trying to hide away from prying cameras and questions about my alleged affair.

I feel her being tugged at once, and just as she says, "Nikki," I'm snatching my hand from hers to beat repeatedly, as hard as I can, at the forearm of the perpetrator, a media creep trying to get her attention. 

"Don't fucking touch her!" I bark out over the noise and he stumbles back, holding at his arm as I put my arm around her waist, tightly, getting to the car. 

When we get inside, Vivian's obviously distraught over what just happened, shoving herself away from me. 

I turn my anger to Fred. 

"What the fuck is the point of  having fucking security if you're not going to keep people from touching her?" I sneer. 

"Because I'm a bodyguard, but you're a fucking Rottweiler." He states back without hesitation and I just roll my jaw, glancing at Vivian and she doesn't even look at me. 

I sigh and dig in my pocket for the little baggie I got earlier, grabbing my hotel room key to take a bump to help me wake up for this show, and when we get to the venue, I'm getting out of the car and waiting for Fred to get out. 

He does, and I stop Vivian, nudging her back inside before saying, "we'll be there in a second."

Fred just looks at me and exhales, rolling his eyes before stepping inside. 

Vivian sighs out as I look at her, avoiding looking at me…

"Vivian, are we gonna talk about it or…?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think we should."

"You proposed to her, Nikki."

"Allegedly." I add.

"You. Proposed. To. Her." She says it sharply and I lean back. "You had an affair with her. I trusted you. I trusted the both of you. And you lied to me." She hisses. "So, no, there is nothing to talk about...just let me out of the damn car." She slides over and opens the door but I reach over her and slam it shut.

She takes heavy breaths from where she's sitting, my body hovering over hers, the tips of our noses brushing together…

I lean down, my lips pressing to her's for just a second before she lets go of the fact I completely screwed her over. 

I'm about to pull away when she pushes her tongue past my lips, her nails running over my back through my shirt as her legs wrap around my hips, one of her hands in my knotted hair.

As always, I end up eating her like a starved pervert, relishing in the sounds of her moans and gasps. 

The truth is, she may hate me, but I'm good at getting her off and she knows it.

Once she comes and we start getting ourselves together to go inside, I look over at her. 

"So, are we good?" I ask her, oh, so fucking stupidly, and she blinks at me. 

"What?" 

"Are we good?" 

She catches on to what I mean, and rubs her lips together. 

"Nikki, you could fuck me into oblivion, which you can't because I'm never letting you fucking touch me again, and we still wouldn't be good. Not even close to 'good'. You can't have an affair with my friend and then expect everything to be good just because we fooled around while you were stoned out of your mind." She snaps and I roll my jaw as she gets out and slams the door, stomping to the back entrance of the venue. 

For the first time I feel the sting of rejection. 

Is this how groupies feel? 

I never thought once about getting head, leaving them in the limo and going on about my business. 

Anger boils in me, Sikki chomping at the bit. 

That selfish bitch! 

I get out and go after her. 

I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna say to her, but I'm mad. 

"How dare you use me to get your rocks off and then toss me aside?", no, because I've done that to her a couple times...but that's because she's into it. 

I swear she comes harder when I randomly come up behind her and just start going at it because she knows I'm just using her to get off and then leave her wherever I stopped her, and go out right after and wouldn't think twice about it. 

But me? I'm so used to her looking at me like I'm God while I have my full attention on making her feel good, and she has the audacity to get off on my face and then kick me to the curb and tell me I'm never touching her again?! 

I decided it wasn't worth the fist fight it would inevitably turn into by the time I got inside, but and looking back, she had every reason to get me horny and then swear off ever letting me get near her again. It was petty, but smart. And despite having sex one last time not long after that instance, the point was still made clear. For the first time in our relationship, the acceptance of sexual advances didn't take the place of forgiveness.

[asteriismos]

get lucky - richie tozier

warning(s) : innapropriate relationship, stepbrother! richie tozier, hate sex, smut, richie being an annoying stepbrother, college! losers, for some reason all the losers are in california i dont know 

words : 3.6k

request(s) :

If you don’t have anything against step-bro fics can I pls request stepbro Richie smut that ends with them getting caught😳👀

hate sex smut imagine with richie pleaseee?🥺🤧

you hated how much your mother was in love with wentworth tozier. and you hated it so much that you were dreading summer break, because over winter break the two of them had gotten married and it was the first fucking time you even met the man. wentworth was a dentist, which was oh so evident by the way that he literally stared at your teeth the second he greeted you, but he seemed nice enough. 

even though you met him the night before they were tying the knot in their relationship. your mother has never been the best with giving you information on her life, which you didn’t really mind considering you were off in college worrying about college things. 

but the worst thing about your mothers marriage to wentworth was not the fact that her last name was now tozier ( which you questioned was even a real last name or not ) or the fact that now you had to get to know an older man that wasn’t your dad. it came in the form of your new stepbrother, richie tozier. 

if there was one nice thing you could say about richie ( and trust me, for you that was hard ), it was that he could be funny. key word ‘could’. but it wasn’t funny when he would pick at every single thing that you did, constantly teased you for all the little things. it pissed you off more than you could even explain. you swore that you were so close to punching him in the face at the little reception after the tiny wedding, when he kept pushing your buttons for no goddamn reason.

you’re such a prude y/n!

do you ever stop complaining?

richie had already drove you up the fucking walls after one night of being graced with his presence, and you had absolutely no idea how you were going to handle an entire summer with him. 

you lived in california, you had all your life. so it was natural for you to apply to colleges there or around there, not that money was really an issue because your mother worked for a very large law firm and made a lot of money. that’s why you were able to stay at the dorms for school, not seeing your mother except for when you were there for holidays. your childhome was big, but it now felt considerably small now that your new family members moved in. 

it seemed like everywhere you went in your house, richie ended up there, talking to you and breaking the peace between you two constantly. 

that’s why you made it your mission to avoid him as much as possible. you had dealt with boys like this before, if you just didn’t give them any attention, they would get bored and go off to do different things. 

except richie didn’t seem to be getting the memo, the lack of attention made him just seek out for it even more than before. 

 today was one of those instances, where you were sitting out by the side of the pool alone. your mother and wentworth were in one of the rooms upstairs painting it to make it a new office space for her. the color was some ugly green color and when wentworth asked if you wanted to help, you shook your head and said pass. sunbathing sounded better than trying to get along with your new family. 

your eyes scanned over the words of your book. you had promised your friend ( who was an english major ) that you’d read it, even though it was a little weird. it was lolita by vladimir nabokov, about some guy who fell in love with a younger girl. 

“an erotic novel, nice.”

you glanced up from your book to be met with richie, eyes through his glasses staring right at yours. they trailed down to your lips, and then down farther, but he quickly composed himself and looked instead at the book, motioning to it. 

you scoffed. “not really. it’s honestly weird as hell.” your eyes went back to reading the words, hoping that he would get the memo that you didn’t want to talk to him and he would go away. 

but he didn’t, or at least if he did he dismissed it, pulling off his shirt and setting it down on the beach chair next to yours. from behind your sunglasses, you watched him strip down into just his swim trunks, thanking god that the sunglasses shielded your eyes from his vision. he couldn’t see that you were borderline checking him out. 

it was wrong. you were convinced that there was a special place in hell for people who thought that their step siblings were hot, but nonetheless you still did it anyways. 

now he was talking, but because of your staring you didn’t catch the first part of what he was saying. richie’s mouth was moving and all you were thinking about were his lips trailing down . . .

“ . . . if you wanted to go with me?” richie finished, giving you a confused look when all you gave back was a blank stare. your brain tried to figure out what he had said before you tuned in, or try and make up an excuse about why you weren’t listening. you figured that telling the truth about you checking him out and thinking about him eating you out for hours. 

you pushed your sunglasses up to your voice and squinted at him, “what’d you say?”

richie gave you yet another confused look, shaking his head and saying, “i asked if you wanted to go to this frat party that me and some of my friends are going to.”

“why would i do that with you?”

richie laughed. “i literally just explained that. did you go braindead for a whole minute? my dad and your mom want to have a night to themselves tonight at the house and want us gone. do i need to elaborate or can you read through the lines?”

you cringed outwardly and inwardly, shaking your head. “no, i get it. gross, okay yeah fine whatever i’ll go.” you’d do whatever you needed to do to get out of the house to not have to deal with whatever your parents got up to.

-

the music blared loudly in your ears as you walked into the rather large frat house. you looked around at the people in the entrance way, seeing that there was a mixture of boys and girls, and definitely a lot of people here. it would be hard to keep track of everyone in the group that you came with. 

richie picked up three other people that apparently have been his friends since childhood. you felt incredibly out of place as they all talked to each other in the car, you kept your arms crossed in front of your chest and basically pouted in the passengers seat of your stepbrothers car. even though you had agreed to go to this thing, you were still mad that you were going with richie. or were you?

“can you at least try not to act like such a prude while we’re here? jesus y/n you look like someone killed your cat,” richie said, jokingly poking the small of your back. you yelped, jumping forward and glaring at him. 

you felt a hand on your shoulder. “hey! lay off richie, god.” his friend beverly, who had firey red hair and seemed to be the only girl in their little group, said. she pulled you close to her by the side and gave you a kind smile. “don’t let him get under your skin, y/n, if you can believe it, he teases the people he loves.” 

“no thanks,” you joked, walking beside her with the rest of the group following to the kitchen to get drinks. you took one of the red solo cups and took a sip of the concoction in there. it tasted like strong beer, maybe a hint of vodka? it was all masked with a cherry aftertaste. it surprisingly wasn’t bad for something made at a frat. 

they all followed suit, one of the members of your tiny group ( who’s name you learned to be stanley ) cringed after just one sip of the drink. you couldn’t help but laugh, giving him a cocky smile. “can’t hold your alcohol stanley?”

richie pushed into your line of vision, “no, he’s just a wuss.” stanley squinted at your stepbrother and pushed him in the shoulder lightly. “am not, beep beep richie.” 

you cocked your head to the side in confusion at the saying. beverly, stan, and mike all just laughed. richie did not, instead he huffed and stood there like a pouty child. the saying seemed to shut him up, maybe you’d have to use that on richie so he would shut the fuck up once in a while when he was annoying you. 

the party raged on, more and more people started to pour their way into the large house. you found a place on the dancefloor with beverly, dancing with her to the loud upbeat music that played. every once in a while mike would come over and dance with you two and you would smile and laugh with your newfound friends. richie would come over once in a while, make some snarky comment your way, then leave. 

the one person who you haven’t danced with is stanley, who was standing on the outskirts of the party. he sipped at his drink idly and ran a hand through his curls. from time to time a girl would come over to him, and he would pass them up, 

it intrigued you. 

you walked over to stanley and gave him a smile, looking around at the crowd and pointing at richie. “so why do you guys say beep beep richie?”

stan laughed, taking a sip of his drink. the smell of alcohol became that much more prevalent as some coated his lips. “when we were younger and richie would talk too much, we would all go ‘beep beep richie’ to get him to shut up. we don’t use it as much anymore because we grew out of it. but it works from time to time.”

you nodded, smirking. looking around the room, your eyes caught richie, chatting up some girl. from time to time his eyes would look across the room at you. and when he saw that you were talking to stan, he squinted through his bottle cap glasses. sticking your tongue out at him, you turned your attention back to stan. 

“do you wanna dance?”

and he didn’t get the chance to say no, because you were already pulling him out into the crowd of people dancing. you took his drink from his hand and set it down, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

you both rocked to the music, hips swaying to the beat. you turned around so that your back was facing him and reached behind you to grab his hands, putting them on your lower waist. then you made eye contact with richie, who was basically staring you down at this point, and grinded your ass into stans hips. 

you heard a gasp from behind you that was no doubt stan, but both of you were too intoxicated to really think anything of it. he instead moved his hips against you, hands running up and down your body. your eyes never left richies, watching him completely drop his drink onto the girls’ shoes he was talking to. then he was walking closer and closer to you, grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you slightly away from stan. 

“what the fuck are you doing?” richie asked you, his eyes dark with anger. he looked genuinely upset, and to be honest he had no right to be. he wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t even really your brother. so if he was trying to play some sort of ‘overprotective act’ it wasn’t working. 

you just gave him a little smile. “just dancing with stan,” you slurred. “jealous much?”

richie didn’t answer, only laughing a little bit at how drunk you actually were. he gave stan a look and shrugged his shoulders, “she’s really drunk, sorry. i should get her home. can you guys find a ride?”

the rest of the night is blank in your memory. 

-

you woke up to the sound of dishes clanking downstairs in the kitchen, causing you to groan once your eyes were opening. the very obvious hangover that you were experiencing was hard not to feel.

still dressed in last nights clothes, you tried to recal what had happened last night to get you this drunk. all you could remember was drinking some kind of random drink from the party and dancing with richie’s friend stan. the rest was pretty fuzzy. 

eventually you made your way downstairs, seeing that it was richie who made the noise in the kitchen. no one was in sight. you looked at the clock and it read that it was 2 in the afternoon. some night it must’ve been.

“good morning, here’s some asprin,” richie said to you, passing over the small bottle across the kitchen counter. 

you nodded a thank you and reached to grab a glass of water. “where’s my mom?”

“beach day,” richie replied, shrugging his shoulders. “so are you and stan like a thing? because i did not see that coming.”

you groaned, “do you have to talk so much? I just woke up and i don’t need you blabbering. and so what if i like stan or not, it’s not like you’re the one to control me.”

“yes I am.”

you scoffed, actually laughing at what he had said just a second ago. he thinks he can control you? as if. 

“you’re a fucking dick richie. i’m sorry you’re jealous of me dancing with stan last night. sorry you didn’t get your dick wet because of me,” you said, taking the glass of water up to your room and giving him no more of your attention.

as soon as you closed the door and set the water down, you heard the door to the room open and close again. “jesus fucking christ rich, get over it. you’re an asshole.”

“you’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” richie said to you, pushing you onto your bed and immediately coming in between your legs. his hot breath fanned your face, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips and trailing down your neck. 

teeth bit into your sensitive skin, breaking the blood capulets on your neck and creating purple splotchy marks all along it. you moaned out at the feeling, pushing your hips against his hips in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure that was falling in between your legs. 

he laughed along your skin. “needy. all for me? for your stepbrother? don’t you think that’s a little wrong, y/n?” he kissed all the way back up to your lips, your bottom lip coming in between his teeth. 

he pulled it away and let go, letting it snap back against your mouth. you whined, hands flying to the black tufts of hair on his head. richie kissed you, stifling any more whiney noises you made. 

his hands came down and pushed the end of your shirt up just enough to expose your breasts. the cold air brushed against them and you shuttered. richie palmed at them, still kissing you. his hands were big enough to fit all around your breasts, and his thumb came to pinch your nipple. 

you yelped, pulling away from him and staring daggers at him. “that hurt.” but you fed into his touch, your own body going against your mind. you involuntarily pressed your chest against his hand. 

he only chuckled, giving you that classic richie grin. 

“doesn’t look like you mind much, sweets,” he said, one of his hands going down and slipping underneath the fabric of your pants. 

richie’s fingers grazed along your clothed clit, a smirk growing on his face when his fingertips pressed harshly on the wet spot that was in them. instead of teasing you like he usually would’ve, he just hooked the fabric away, sliding his finger along your slit. 

you moaned at the contact, pulling his hair with a force that probably hurt. he didn’t seem to mind, giving his own moan while pushing one singular finger into you. 

his finger curled up in a come here motion and you almost screamed, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of knowing he had such an effect over you. he could see through your bullshit quite clearly, pushing another two fingers into you and not moving. 

richie had three fingers in you that he wasn’t moving, watching you squirm against his hand to create some kind of pleasure. but with his other hand he held your hips down, keeping you from moving at all. 

“i want to hear you beg for it.”

“for fucks sake, richie,” you said, eyes opening to look at him. 

his chest pressed against your own as he leaned in, “beg. or i’ll leave you to finger fuck yourself.”

for a moment you thought that you weren’t going to do it, mostly because of your pride and ego. the pleasure that awaited you took over though and you opened your mouth to say, “please richie. fuck me with your fingers. stretch me out. i need you.” your cheeks burned in embarrassment at your words, knowing that he would never let you live that down. 

“good girl.”

he spared not a moment more, fingers setting at an unbelievably fast pace as they pumped in and out of you. his thumb massaged figure eights on your clit and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. 

for some reason the thought of richie being your stepbrother was hotter, and made you almost even more wet. your arousal slicked the inside of your thighs while he kept his pace. 

your head arched back, feeling him hit your g spot every single time his fingers fucked into you. 

soon enough you were cumming, opening your eyes and seeing blurry vision. richie kept pumping his fingers, mouth finding home on your breasts to give you more hickies there. you didn’t know how you were going to be able to hide all of them. that fucker. 

you took a minute to catch your breath and for that moment richie wasn’t touching you at all, which made you miss his touch more than you were willing to admit. you heard the sound of pants unzipping and soon enough richie was in between your legs, this time his cock in his hands as he pumped lazily. you took no time to push your pants and panties down onto the floor.

you gave him a look when he aligned in your enterance. he was thick, which now made sense as to why he fucked you with three fingers, even though he was still way bigger than the width of three fingers. 

all you could think about was him filling you up and fucking you until you saw stars. 

richie pushed into you, groaning at the feeling of you around him, tight and wet. he couldn’t believe that he took this long to fuck you. but now all that pent up tension was coming up right now, richie was already so wound up from hearing you beg for him. 

once he bottomed out, he pulled out, pushing back in. you hissed at the feeling, not all the way used to the feeling of him stretching you out but loving it anyways. he buried himself into you like he owned you and you loved it. 

his hands came to your hips and thrusted in and out with such force that your whole body moved with every single rut into you. he shed no mercy, hitting that one spot every single time mercilessly. 

your hands fumbled to touch him, anywhere you possibly could. eventually you made your way to his back, fingernails digging into his skin enough to probably draw blood. you scratched up and down, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 

your breasts bounced up and down with every thrust, the shirt pushed all the way up to your neck was getting soaked with your own sweat. the heat in the room was almost unbearable, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

he grabbed your thigh and hoisted it up, moaning at the new angle that he hit within you. your eyes teared up with the pleasure that coursed through you, once again about to hit that brink once again. you were already pretty sensitive from the previous orgasm. 

“richie, i’m going to cum,” you moaned out. 

“I know baby, let it out for me,” he responded, hand falling down to your clit. 

that sent you over with a scream, the coil that had been winding in you finally snapped, sending you over the edge flying. 

with his thrusts helping you ride your orgasm out, you felt completely fucked out. mind blank, legs starting to hurt from the angle he was holding them in. soon his thrusts faltered and he was cumming, hot liquid shooting through you. he pulled out and gave you a goofy look, pulling up his boxers and searching for his pants on the floor. 

you closed your legs, feeling some of his cum fall down into your thighs. you pulled your shirt back down and put your panties on. 

right as you were about to say something, your door opened. 

it was your mom and wentworth, looking at both of you with shock in their eyes. 

oh fuck. 

“you two,” your mother said, almost too angry to speak. “have a lot of explaining to do.”

[miraculous-ladybug-bitches]

Retroactive

“Chloe!” Marinette squeals as she rushes towards her friend. Chloe turns around and catches an armful of hyperactive six-year-old. 

She had been walking down to her law firm when she was barreled down by the child. How that happened, neither of them had a clue. 

The truth was, Master Fu had been experimenting on Marinette and Tikki to upgrade her transformation, and a newly child-Marinette didn’t recognize him. So naturally, she sprinted to the streets in search of someone she knew. 

Chloe lifts Marinette hesitantly, and the little girl hugs her tight. Chloe was 25, yet she was the same to Marinette. Her blonde hair was the same as before, and her face was similar. 

“Missed you, Chlo,’” she says as she nuzzles her cheek. 

Chloe feels her heart breaking in two- if Marinette was how old she thought she was, then that meant… 

That meant that Chloe and Marinette had been separated by their parents. It had been ‘unacceptable’ for the daughter of the mayor and a fashion designer to be playing with the daughter of a ‘peasant’, as her mother taught her. 

Chloe felt sick to her stomach. 

Instead of voicing her thoughts, she hugs the little girl. “Do you know who made you little?” 

She texts her boss to let her know that she wouldn’t be coming in. Marinette pulls away. 

“It was a wrinkly old man who said that he needed to test on me,” she responds with a pout. She points in the direction from where she had come from. 

Chloe carries her half-way, then drops Marinette. 

“Why was I carrying you? You’re a big girl!” she chastises. Chloe had forgotten how much of a trickster Marinette had been when she was younger. 

Chloe, however, had been turning into the spoiled brat she had been in her lycee years. 

Marinette just looks back up at her with a perfectly innocent smile. 

Chloe sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Come on, lil Mari, take me where you ran from.” 

After maneuvering through throngs of people, they stand in front of Master Fu’s house. 

“Hello, Chloe and Marinette,” he welcomes them after opening the door. Marinette goes inside tentatively, holding Chloe’s hand all the while. 

Marinette goes to the bathroom, so Chloe sits down to talk to Master Fu. 

“Chloe, it is good to see you. I’m sure you must be wondering why Marinette has decreased in age… you see, we were experimenting to see if Tikki could take Marinette back a few minutes in time, similarly to Sass,  but as you see, something went wrong.”

Chloe drinks her tea to calm herself. She doesn’t acknowledge the scalding temperature. 

“So when will she be the correct age again?”  

“Well, I would guess approximately a week…” 

*

“Do you have apple juice?” 

“No.” 

“So… do you have orange juice?”

“No.”

“What about-” 

“There is no juice in this house!” Chloe erupts at the little girl. 

Marinette is unfazed. 

“Well, technically, this is an apartment.” 

“Ugh, ” Chloe mumbles before going back into her work. “Go find a pack of fruit gummies or something.” 

*

Marinette as a seven-year-old was a little bastard. 

“Chloe, Chlo-Chlo, can I show you how to do a roundhouse kick? My cousin taught me.” 

Chloe remembers how this exchange had gone the first time. Spoiler Alert: not well. 

“Sure, show me.” 

Marinette comes too close and kicks her squarely in the nose. 

At least she apologizes.

*

“Um, Miss Bourgeois? There’s a little girl outside, waiting for you.” 

Chloe resists the urge to cuss the tiny demon child out, but just barely. Why did it have to be her, again? 

(“... because you know of Marinette’s identity, and seeing as Alya and Nino have children of their own, and Adrien is in Italy, you are the only one who can be trusted with Marinette.” 

Chloe had to leave to let out her childish frustrations.) 

“Uh, Miss? Are you alright?” She hears the assistant ask again. She nods, her lips pressed thin, and leaves to go see what the child has come for. 

“Yes, Marinette? What do you want?” 

“Uh, well, you see,” she begins. Chloe checks her watch. 

“I may or may not have accidentally lost your cat,” Marinette says in a rushed whisper. 

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. In. Out. In. Ou- 

“Chloe?” 

“Okay. This is fine. Let me just finish my work for today, then we can go back home to see if we can find him.” 

Marinette’s shoulders relax, and a slow grin spreads upon her face. 

“You can wait in the main lobby,” Chloe informs her before walking away. Nine-year-olds were so much work.

*

“I hate you,” Marinette tells her the next day as they eat breakfast. 

Chloe sighs. “Let me guess, we’ve just started to do that thing, right?” 

Master Fu had told her that Marinette would get her memories based on her age. For example, right now she was getting her memories from the first year of lycee. 

That was when Chloe had decided that Marinette would be her victim in a game of cat and mouse. 

“Why should I tell you? What’ve you ever done for me?” 

Chloe bites down a retort. It hurts her pride, but she can’t say something that would make Marinette trust her even less. 

“I’m sorry, Marinette. I’ve apologized before for what I’ve done, but I’ll apologize a hundred times if it means you forgiving me.” 

Marinette pushes her food away and stalks off to her place in the guest bedroom. Chloe sighs again and takes the bowls to the sink. Hopefully, Marinette wouldn’t react too severely tomorrow.

*  

“Honestly, fuck you! Why were you so mean to me? What did you gain from that?” 

“I’m sorry, Mari, I’m so sorry,” Chloe tries, but Marinette grabs her hand and looks at her like she murdered her cat. 

“You don’t get to call me that,” Marinette hisses at her. 

“Fine. I’m heading to a dinner party with my coworkers, feel free to sulk here for the rest of the night,” Chloe says with a carefully clear voice. 

“Fine. Then go, and don’t bother coming back.” 

The door shuts, and the neighbors can hear the torn sobs of a thirteen-year-old. 

*

Chloe comes into Marinette’s room. She’s still asleep, and she aged through the night. The bags under her eyes are more prominent than ever. 

“Marinette?” Chloe asks hesitantly, making her way across the room. She taps the sleeping teenager, and she startles awake. 

“I swear- I swear I finished it, Mr. Agreste! I finished it in time,” she rushes to say, and upon realizing it’s just Chloe, she relaxes. 

“You can still sleep, I’m just going out to grab us some groceries, alright?” Chloe responds slowly. 

“No! I can’t sleep, Mr. Agreste needs me to finish the designs for fashion week.” 

“Marinette, you can sleep. Gabriel doesn’t need you to finish anything, he’s-” Chloe stops herself before she can mess with Marinette’s mind more. “Never mind. Just try to get some sleep, alright?” 

“Okay,” Marinette responds after a minute. Chloe leaves, although uncertainly. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to- oh,” she says upon seeing her already asleep again. 

A slow smile stretches across her face.

*

“Damn, how did I think that I was straight for seventeen years of my life?” Marinette mutters as she flips through a magazine.

Chloe laughs suddenly as she minces the onions. Marinette looks up and colors abruptly. She coughs into her fist and looks away.

“No, no, I’m not judging you but damn, that was funnier than it should be. I can relate- I mean, I didn’t realize I was gay until I turned like, 20.”

“Oh, really? Cool,” she says, still red. 

Chloe snickers to herself. She couldn’t wait until Marinette was back to her normal age. 

*

“Chloe, please don’t go. I can’t lose you again. Don’t go! You can’t go!” Marinette sobs into Chloe’s back. 

Chloe turns around. “I’m not going to leave. Just let me call into work and tell them that I can’t make it today.” 

“O- okay. But you can’t leave!”

If Chloe was correct in her assumptions, then Marinette and the rest of the Miraculous Team had just defeated Hawkmoth. That means that Chloe had gone into a coma, Adrien had gone to court, and Gabriel had gone to jail. 

“I’m not leaving you. I’m right here.” 

After making the call, Chloe leads both of them to the couch. “You’ll be alright, Mari, I swear. Things do get better.” 

“You promise?” Marinette asks after she’s cried herself out.

“I promise.” 

*

“Thank god. Reliving my life was a living nightmare.” 

Chloe sits up from her place on the couch. They had fallen asleep after crying. 

“Mari?” she asks blearily. Marinette hugs her then goes back to her phone. 

“Good morning to you too, babe.” 

“Mari! You’re back to normal!” Chloe grins wide. 

“Yeah. I’m back.” 

“Can I kiss you, then?” Marinette glances back at her.

“Nah.” 

Chloe pouts and Marinette takes pity on her. “Aw, love, don’t make that face.” 

“Kiss it better?” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

[spookypalace]

something borrowed - chapter one

After one drink too many at her  30th-birthday celebration, Jo unexpectedly falls into bed with her  longtime crush and best friend, Alex -- who happens to be engaged to her best friend, Izzie. Ramifications of the liaison threaten to destroy  the women's lifelong friendship, while Jackson, Jo's  confidant, harbors a potentially explosive secret of his own.

—

Or the one where everyone is a little messy but you still root for them anyway.

June 2010

“Oh! Wow, I had no idea! This is amazing.” The small brunette whispers to herself as she paces the dark littered sidewalk of ninth street in the East Village, the wind briskly wafting through her freshly curled hair as her high-heeled clad feet clicked against the gravel. “No, that sounds so obvious,” She continues to mumble to herself, using a manicured finger to flick away the bang which had stuck to the lip-gloss which painted her plump pink lips. With a deep sigh, she threw her hands back to her sides, shaking them furiously as she felt the familiar clammy feeling begin to settle in her palms due to her nervousness.

As her entire body began to heat up, she was thankful that it was the little black dress that had caught her eye earlier that evening whilst she was examining her wardrobe in search of something to wear. It wasn’t a dress she had chosen for herself; short little pieces of clothing had never been her thing—her style was usually casual, ripped jeans and relaxed t-shirts. But her best friend, Izzie Stevens, had picked it out specifically for her during a shopping trip back when they were college freshman. It was Izzie’s style; figure hugging, clinging to every curve and a deep square neckline which showed off her perky assets.

She didn’t believe she had any of that, never had. Her shoulders were a little wider than her hips, her legs much shorter, barely standing at five foot four and her chest substantially lacked what Izzie’s had. With luscious blonde hair which flowed down her back, blinding white teeth and skin smoother than butter, Izzie really was perfect. Izzie was always the lucky one, always had been—since they were in fifth grade. Her skin tanned more quickly, her hair feathered more easily, and she didn't need braces. Her cartwheels were superior, as were her front handsprings (she couldn't do a handspring at all). She had double-pierced ears and the trendiest clothing from her rich and caring parents.

But at least Jo would always be a few months younger than Izzie, six months, and four days to be exact. Izzie, as obsessed with clear and smooth skin as she was, constantly worried about growing old and the aging effects that was brought with old age. Izzie’s age was the one thing that Jo didn’t quite mind never catching up to.

“Oh my god!” Jo plasters a fake wide grin on her face and throws her hands into the air in mock surprise, white teeth illuminating the small corner of the street she continued to pace up and down. She brings her dainty hands to her chest and widens her eyes as not to blink, willing herself not to blink in an effort to fake cry. Something which she was usually very skilled at. But not tonight it seemed.

With a groan, Jo gives up, “I suck!” She shouts into the empty street before sitting down onto the concrete steps which lead up to the apartment building, she was currently having a small breakdown outside of. Huffing, she removes the black heel from her right foot, resting for a moment in hopes she’ll finally calm down.

The feeling Jo currently had reminded her of New Year's Eve when the countdown is coming and she’s not quite sure whether to grab my camera or just live in the moment. New Year’s Eve never goes how you plan. Then you’re left feeling enormously let down and think to yourself that the night would have been more fun if it didn't mean quite so much, if you weren't forced to analyse where you’ve been and where you’re going.

Like New Year's Eve, tonight is an ending and a beginning. She didn't like endings and beginnings. She would always prefer to churn about in the middle. The worst thing about this particular end (of her youth) and beginning (of middle age) is that for the first time in her life, Jo realises that she has no idea where she’s going. Her wants are simple: a job that she enjoys and a guy whom she loves. And on the eve of her thirtieth birthday, Jo had come to the realisation that she wasn’t anywhere near getting what she wanted.

First, she’s an attorney at a large New York firm. By definition this means that she’s miserable. Being a lawyer just isn't what she thought it was cracked up to be—it's nothing like L.A. Law, the show that caused applications to law schools to skyrocket in the early nineties. She works excruciating hours for a mean-spirited, anal-retentive partner, doing mostly tedious tasks, and that sort of hatred for what you do for a living begins to chip away at you. So, Jo had memorised the mantra of the law-firm associate: I hate my job and will quit soon. Just as soon as I pay off my loans. Just as soon as I make next year's bonus. Just as soon as I think of something else to do that will pay the rent. Or find someone who will pay it for me.

Which brings Jo to her second point: she feels desperately alone in a city of millions.

Whilst visually she knows for a fact she’s not alone, because if she were then she wouldn’t currently be stressing out about how to fake shock to all of her friends once she enters the club in which her ‘surprise’ birthday party is being hosted in five minutes. She had friends to summer within the Hamptons, friends to meet on a Thursday night after work for a drink or two or three, friends to gossip with and rant to. And she had Izzie, her best friend from home, who is all of the above.

For a while, friends were all she needed—when you’re in your twenties, settling down with the man of your dreams can wait. There’s still so much living to do when you’re twenty-three and then twenty-seven, but by the time you’re twenty-nine … the cold empty side of your double bed begins to get a little old.

“Right.” Jackson Avery’s voice booms from the now open door which leads to his apartment, shaking Jo from her thoughts of loneliness, “I’m ready, you good?” He asks with a smirk when he notices her perched on his steps, face bored and disinterested.

Big doe eyes, decorated with mascara and dark eyeshadow, glance up at him as her lips turn into a pout involuntarily. “I don’t wanna’ go,” she knows he thinks she sounds like a toddler, she can tell by the way he chuckles and continues to look down at her with raised eyebrows, “I don’t want to be thirty.”

Jackson jogs down the few steps, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket as he does so, until he’s standing directly in front of the small woman. “Come on,” he extends a handout to her, hoping she’ll take it without much of a fight. Jo only pushes her bottom lip out further as she places her foot back into the uncomfortable heel and places her hand into his, groaning as Jackson pulls her up with force. “If it makes you feel any better then honestly, you don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

Jo scoffs, letting him lead her towards the club only two streets away from his place, “right.”

She had met Jackson in college, during orientation their freshman year. Whilst they weren’t fast friends, both of them were rather reserved. After a while they began to grow closer; during study sessions and group projects—they always seemed to be on the same page. It wasn’t until they finished college and realised that they were only living a few blocks from one another that they really started to spend time outside of class together, Jackson was always available for a morning coffee or an afternoon stroll during a stressful day.

Izzie had always been adamant that Jackson was crushing hard on Jo, but she never saw it. When it came to men, Izzie had a one-track mind—according to the blonde, no male and female could ever just be friends. She believed this so strongly that she took it upon herself to try and set the pair up during every night out at the bar or weekend lunch. Something which got old and obnoxious on Izzie’s part fast. Due to this, Jo had chosen to keep her friendships with the two fairly separate. Except for the times it was unavoidable, like birthdays and engagement parties and whatnot. Like tonight.

They arrive at the club far too quickly for Jo’s liking, she comes to a stand still once they’re outside, dragging Jackson back by the clasp of their hands as she firmly stays put. He sighs, his eyes subtly giving her the once over now Jo’s directly stood in the bright lights of the nightclub’s neon sign. Jo doesn’t notice, pays no mind to the man in front of her as she thinks about what’s on the other side of that door.

“What’s up?” He asks, frowning with concern, “you love an excuse to get drunk—your thirtieth birthday is as good an excuse as any,”

Jo takes a deep breath, “I told you, I’m getting old.”

“Keep going with that and I’m going to get offended,” he steps closer to her with a smirk, eyes gazing down at hers, “you remember I turned thirty, like, ten months ago, right?”

At Jackson’s comment, a sincere smile finally spreads across Jo’s glossy lips, “barely, I woke up passed out in your bed with a pink wig on and roller skates hanging off my feet.” Jackson’s smirk turns into full-fledged laughter as he recalls the memory.

“If we’re lucky then maybe tonight will end similar.”

Jo’s eyes glimmer as she teases, “no way, I’m thirty tomorrow—it’s socially unacceptable for me to wake up in some random guys bed.”

Jacksons face turns into a mock frown, “random?” As they both continue to laugh with one another, Jo shoves a dainty hand into his chest and walks past him with a bump to his shoulder. Her heels click towards the large black door with the shiny brass handle, pulling it open as she throws an eye roll at him and finally gets over her nerves and steps into the room her friends had piled into to celebrate her birth.

She wasn’t alone, she knows that—she felt that when she stood with Jackson, laughing and smiling so effortlessly.

But she was lonely.

One hour later, once everyone has gotten over how atrociously Jo’s fake shock was, the party is in full swing. People were dancing and laughing and singing along to the sound of Jo and Izzie’s nineties playlist as it blared through the speakers.

She never enjoyed being the centre of attention, which is why she specifically asked Izzie months ago not to throw her any kind of party—before Jackson informed Jo that actually, Izzie had ignored her completely, Jo’s plan was to enjoy a chilled night at their favourite bar. Just Jo, Jackson, Stephanie, Izzie and Alex.

Alex. The one saving grace of this party—his face was the first she spotted when she walked through the club doors, the first voice she heard and the first person who brought a smile onto her face. He’d sent her a wink, one which reminded her of way back when they were barely twenty, and it sent butterflies swirling in her stomach. She won’t lie and say she wasn’t disappointed when Izzie ran through the crowd of people, arms swinging and lips screaming, to engulf Jo into a tight hug, spinning the shorter woman around, and cutting through the moment.

Jo’s current personal situation seems all the more dismal as she sat with her oldest and bestest friend in the corner booth of the club, the blonde had a glamorous PR job and was now freshly engaged. After all this time, Izzie is still the lucky one. Jo watches her, telling a story to the group which had gathered into the booth, including her fiancé.

Alex and Izzie were an exquisite couple, lean and tall with ridiculous good look and great jobs. They are among New York's beautiful people. The well-groomed couple registering for fine china and crystal on the sixth floor at Bloomingdale's. You hate their smugness but can't resist staring at them when you're on the same floor searching for a not-too-expensive gift for the umpteenth wedding you've been invited to without a date. You strain to glimpse her ring and are instantly sorry you did. She catches you staring and gives you a disdainful once-over. You wish you hadn't worn your tennis shoes to Bloomingdale's. She is probably thinking that the footwear may be part of your problem. You buy your Waterford vase and get the hell out of there.

“So, the lesson here is: if you ask for a Brazilian bikini wax, make sure you specify.” Izzie finishes her obscene tale, and the whole group laughs. Except for Alex, who shakes his head, as if to say, what a piece of work my fiancée is. “OK!” Izzie shouts obnoxiously, hands slapping together as she claps, “I’ll be right back, tequila shots for us all!”

Jo watches as she moves away from the group and towards the bar, leaning over the sticky surface to flirt with the young bartender, who she already told Jo she would ‘totally fuck’ if she was still single. As if Izzie would ever be single. She said once in high school, "I don't break up, I trade up." She kept her word on that, and she always did the dumping. Throughout our teenage years, college, and every day of our twenties, she has been attached to someone. Often, she has more than one guy hanging around, hoping.

It occurs to Jo that she could hook up with the bartender. She’s completely and totally unencumbered—hasn't even been on a date in nearly two months, it was an utter disaster and she decided she needed to give herself a break. But it doesn't seem like something one should do at age thirty. One-night stands are for girls in their twenties, and as of tomorrow morning she would no longer be in her twenties.

Plus, she thinks she’d had her fair share of one-night stands and after every single time she always found that she ended up thinking to herself that she was a relationship person. She preferred to know the person, nothing competed with the feeling of being familiar with someone’s body. Knowing exactly how to make them moan, their toes curl, and their skin tingle—that’s what she wanted. And there was the feeling of comfort, being so comfortable that there was no awkwardness and you never felt too shy to try something new. She missed that. She really really missed that.

She hadn’t experienced that since her last boyfriend, two years ago.

“You look great,” Alex whispers into her ear as the rest of the group continue to chatter, his hushed voice breaking Jo out of her sad sad thoughts.

Jo rolls her eyes, tilting her head so it falls against the side of his, “you have to say that I’m your fiancé’s best friend.” As comfortable as the position was, Jo lifts her head up quickly so she can turn to look Alex in the eyes—eyes which were wide, gazing down at her. His lips were parted, as if there was something he wanted to say but as he opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, Jo decides to relieve them of the thick tension and shakes her head with a small girlish girl.

“No, I don’t,” he finally adds, eyes continuing to watch her every movement. The way she picks up her full glass of vodka with dainty hands, the way her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks and her curls frame her face—small things he’s always noticed.

The tension is cut once Izzie returns with the shots, but Alex refuses his, so Izzie insists that Jo does the two. Before Jo knows it, the night starts to take on that blurry quality, when you cross over from being buzzed to drunk, losing track of time and the precise order of things. Apparently, Izzie had reached that point even sooner because she’s now dancing on the bar. Spinning and gyrating in a little red halter dress and three-inch heels.

"Stealing the show at your party," Stephanie, Jo’s closest friend from work, says under her breath. "She's shameless."

Jo giggles, not really caring—it was something she had come accustomed to. “She’s just a little drunk.” She’s not sure when she became the person who constantly made excused for Izzie’s behaviour, probably way back when they were fifteen … maybe twelve, who knows.

Everyone waits for her next move, which is to swivel her hips in perfect time to the music, bend over slowly, and then whip her body upright again, her long hair spilling every which way. Jo turns her head away from the woman up on the bar to glance at Alex, who in these moments can never quite decide whether to be amused or annoyed. To say that the man has patience is an understatement. Alex and Jo had that in common.

"Happy birthday, Jol!" Izzie yells. "Let's all raise a glass to Jo Wilson!" Which everyone does. Without taking their eyes off the blonde.

A minute later, Alex whisks her down from the bar, slings her over his shoulder, and deposits her on the floor next to Jo in one fluid motion. Clearly, this was something he had done before. "All right," he announces, glancing over to Jo apologetically. "I'm taking our little party-planner home."

Izzie plucks her drink off the bar and stamps her foot. "You're not the boss of me, Alex! Is he, Jo?" As she asserts her independence, she stumbles and sloshes her martini all over Alex's shoe. In usuall circumstances Jo would agree with Izzie—Alex wasn’t the boss of the woman. But at this very moment, as she continues to cause a scene with her temper tantrum, Jo had to agree with him.

Alex grimaces. "You're wasted, Iz. This isn't fun for anyone but you."

"Okay. Okay. I'll go... I'm feeling kind of sick anyway," she says, looking queasy.

"Are you going to be okay?" Jo asks, concern dripping from her voice despite the fact she felt incredibly drunk herself.

"I'll be fine. Don't you worry," she says, now playing the role of brave little sick girl.

Jo thanks her for the party, tells her that it was a total surprise—which is a lie, because she knew Izzie would capitalize on my thirtieth to buy a new outfit, throw a big bash, and invite as many of her friends as Jo’s own. Still, it was nice of her to have the party, and Jo’s finally glad that she did. Izzie’s the kind of friend who always makes things feel special. Izzie hugs Jo hard and tells her she'd do anything for her, and what would she do without Jo, her maid of honour, the sister she never had. She is gushing, as she always does when she drinks too much.

Alex cuts her off, "happy birthday, princess. We'll talk to you tomorrow." He gives Jo a kiss on the cheek as she grimaces at the old nickname he had coined all the way back when they were freshman in college. Before he exits, he turns back one last time, “you’ll be OK?”

"Thanks, Alex," Jo smiles. "I’ll be fine, good night."

Jo watches him usher Izzie outside, holding her elbow after she nearly trips on the curb. Oh, to have such a caretaker. To be able to drink with reckless abandon and know that there will be someone to get you home safely—so you didn’t end the night passed out on your male friend’s bed with absolutely no idea if anything happened between the pair of you.

Sometime later, Alex reappears in the bar—much to Jo’s drunken delight.

"Izzie lost her purse. She thinks she left it here.” He huffs with a roll of his eyes, “it's small, silver," he continues, using his hands to show them the size. "Have you seen it?""

“She lost her new Chanel bag?" Jo shakes her head and laughs, a little louder than she anticipated thanks to the alcohol coursing through her system, because it is just like Izzie to lose her things. Usually Jo would try her best to keep track of them for her, but as it was her birthday, she decided to go off duty—albeit unintentionally. Still, Jo helps Alex search for the purse, finally spotting it under a bar stool.

“Oh my god!” Jo hears Jackson’s mocking tone from behind her, “the Chanel purse, Jo!” She grabs the purse from the floor, accidentally knocking her head against the bar, before turning around to shove a laughing Jackson in the chest.

Alex grins, lifting a hand to ruffle her now slightly messy hair playfully, “what would I do without you?” He asks rhetorically, but there’s a glint in his eyes as he watches her glance up at the ceiling with a smug shrug, full of confidence.

As he turns to leave, Alex's friend Andrew, one of his groomsmen, convinces him to stay.

"C'mon, man. Hang out for a minute." With that, Alex calls Izzie at home and she slurs her consent, tells him to have fun without her. Although she is probably thinking that such a thing is not possible.

Gradually Jo’s friends peel away, Jackson included, saying their final happy birthdays. Alex and Jo outlast everyone, even Jackson. Something which wasn’t uncommon, it had become a regular occurrence since college. The pair sit at the bar making conversation with the young bartender from earlier who has an "Amy" tattoo and zero interest in the aging brunette lawyer.

It’s just after three when they decide that it's time to go. The night feels more like midsummer than spring, and the warm air infuses Jo with sudden hope: maybe this will be the summer she finds what she wants to do, where she’s going and all that crap.

Alex hails me a cab, but as it pulls over, he says, "how about one more bar?” His voice is hopeful and there’s that familiar crooked smirk on his lips, “one more drink?"

"Fine," Jo groans with a roll of her eyes, a smile on her face that tells Alex she’s joking—she’s more than happy to stop at one more bar with him. "Why not?" Jo grins as they both get into the can and he tells the cab driver to just drive, that he has to think about where to next.

They end up in Alphabet City at a bar on Seventh and Avenue B, aptly named 7B. It’s not an upbeat scene—7B is dingy and smoke-filled. They both like it anyway—it's not sleek and it's not a dive, it’s more up to their speed, more them.

Alex points to a booth, “sit down, this ones on me." Then he’s turning around, "what shall I get you, still partial to a vodka cranberry or beer?" He asks, that smirk still on his lips as he’s proud to think of how well he knows the woman in front of him.

Jo tells him she’ll have whatever he's having, and then she sits and waits for him in the dark red booth, patiently as the vodka and tequila and rum swills around her head. Jo watches as Alex says something to a girl who’s stood at the bar wearing army-green cargo pants and a tank top that says "Fallen Angel." Jo almost scoffs. Jo smiles and shakes her head, ignoring the familiar pang of jealousy running through her veins. 

A moment later Alex slides in across from Jo in the old booth, pushing a beer her way. "Newcastle," he says before he smiles, crinkly lines appearing around his eyes. "You like?" Jo nods and smiles back at him.

From the corner of her eye, Jo see’s Fallen Angel turn on her bar stool and survey Alex, absorbing his chiselled features, wavy hair, full lips. Izzie complained once that Alex garners more stares and double takes than she does. Yet, unlike his female counterpart, Alex seems not to notice the attention. Fallen Angel now casts her eyes Jo’s way, likely wondering what Alex is doing with someone so average. Even if the little black dress did wonders for her usually non-existent cleavage, Jo didn’t see herself as anything special. She finds herself silently hoping that the girl thinks they're a couple. Tonight, nobody has to know that she is only a member of the wedding party.

“That’s the dress you wore to our celebratory drinks the night we took the bar.” Alex notices, tilting his beer in her direction.

“Oh wow,” Jo let’s out a breathy laugh, “you remember that?”

Alex smirks before letting out a sigh and shaking his head in almost disbelief, “Of course I do. You threw up all over my bathroom floor whilst wearing it.”

Jo’s jaw drops to the floor at the mention of the old memory, her eyes scanning over Alex as he sets his beer down and lets out a hearty laugh. “Noooo,” she drags the word out, cringing, “I was such a disaster.”

Alex scoffs, “no you were not, you were a college student.”

And for the third time that night, their eyes are glued to one another’s, both having so much to say but having no idea how to say it. But this is how it had always been with Alex, even when they could feel the tension between them—they were still nothing but completely comfortable with one another. Although, in this instance, her cheeks began to heat up.

Jo clears her throat, shaking her head, hoping the waft of her hair would cool down the heat that was rising at the back of her neck. “Do you remember that apartment,” she reminisces, “it barely fit the two of us.”

“How could I forget,” Alex mumbles with a grin, “I spent half the time I lived there sleeping on the floor ‘cause your place was always flooding.”

“I don’t know why you always let me crash in your bed.” Jo thinks out loud. He doesn’t answer, just shakes his head and takes another long swig of his beer, hoping the conversation will change. “You know, I had a huge thing for you back in college.” The words tumble from her lips, so fast he barely catches them but after a second he’s certain of what he’s heard. And she wants to say it’s the drink talking—the alcohol running through her system. But it’s not. And he knows its not. She can tell by the way he awkwardly bows his head, hiding his smile and shaking his head.

Eventually, the conversation changes and it’s as if she never made the slip up. But she did. But then Alex is talking about his job and their Hamptons share that begins in another week and a lot of things. It’s always been this way, easy and comfortable. But Izzie doesn’t come up and neither does their September wedding, not once.

After the pair finish their beers they move over to the jukebox, fill it with dollar bills, searching for good songs as they giggle and tease one another about their song choices. Jo pushes the code for "Thunder Road" twice because she knows it’s his favourite song.

"Yes, Springsteen's got to be at the top of the list. Ever seen him in concert?" Alex’s eyes glimmer, as they glance down to Jo—a tipsy smile gracing his lips.

"Nope," Jo answers with a laugh, “grew up homeless, remember. Concerts were a luxury I couldn’t afford." Jo almost tell him that Izzie offered to take her back in high school, well, Izzie would have been dragged along out of pity even though she much preferred groups like the Backstreet Boys. But Jo decides it’s best not to bring this up. Because then he’ll remember that it’s probably time to go home to Izzie and she doesn't want to be alone in her dwindling moments of twenty-somethingness.

Alex chuckles, never being one to skirt around Jo’s tough upbringing, it was actually one of the reasons they became such good friends. “You’ve had a zip code for over ten years now, I’m not letting that excuse slide anymore.”

Jo mocks shock, slapping a hand against the back of his upper arm, “not an excuse, jerk.”

Not too long later, it’s last call at 7B. They get a couple more beers and return to their booth.

Sometime later they are back in a cab once again, going north on First Avenue. "Two stops," Alex tells the cab driver, as they both live on opposite sides of Central Park. Alex is holding Izzie's Chanel purse, which looks small and out of place in his large hands. Jo glances over at the silver dial of his Rolex, a gift from Izzie. It is just shy of five o'clock. They sit almost silently for a stretch of ten or fifteen blocks, besides for a few comments mixed with tipsy laughter, both of them looking out of their respective side windows, until the cab hits a pothole and Jo finds herself lurched into the middle of the backseat, her bare leg grazing his.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Alex’s lips are on Jo’s. He’s kissing her. Or maybe she’s the one kissing him. But, somehow, no matter who was the one that initiated it, they’re kissing. And Jo’s mind has gone blank as she listens to the soft sound of their lips meeting again and again. Their tongues tangle, fighting for dominance which Alex eventually wins over and Jo can’t complain … because this is what she’s wanted for so so long.

Ever since freshman year.

At some point, Alex taps on the Plexiglas partition and tells the driver, between kisses, that it will just be one stop after all.

They arrive on the corner of seventy-third and third, near Jo’s apartment. Alex hands the driver a twenty and doesn’t bother to wait for change. They spill out of the taxi, kissing more on the sidewalk and then in front of Jose, Jo’s doorman. It makes her giggle and not because she’s still a little tipsy and high from the feeling of Alex’s lips on hers but because who would’ve thought—Hobo Jo has a doorman.

Their lips don’t part the whole way up in the elevator, their hands grabby and desperate as they try to fight the urge to rip off one another’s clothing. Alex has Jo pressed against the elevator wall, her hands moving to the back of his head.

Once their up, she fumbles with her key, turning it the wrong way in the lock as Alex keeps his arms around her waist, his soft lips nipping and biting against her neck and the side of her face. Finally, the door is open, and they’re no longer just kissing and touching. They’re in the middle of her studio, and he’s slowly pulling down the thin straps of her dress, kissing the soft skin where his hands graze—savouring the moment.

Just as Alex is about to pull down the tight dress the rest of the way. His hands stop their descent, placing them on either side of her head and forcing her to look at him. Her pink plump lips swollen, hair messy from him running his fingers through the long tendrils—she looked perfect, he’s never thought she looked more perfect than she did in this very moment.

“Are you drunk?" His voice is a whisper in the dark.

"No," Jo says. Because you always say no when you're drunk. And even though she is a little, she seems to have a lucid instant where she can consider this whole thing clearly. It strikes her that, in a sense, she can have both a momentous birthday night and the one thing she’s wanted for as long as she can remember.

One thought of Izzie is in her mind, but she’s being pushed to the back, overwhelmed by a force stronger than their friendship and her own conscience.

Within seconds, Alex’s lips are back on hers and he’s hurriedly removing her dress ad she makes quick work of snapping open the buttons of his crisp white shirt. Jo doesn’t even realise they’re moving backwards until he’s throwing her down onto the soft bed and Alex crawls on top of her. Jo’s eyes flutter closed, then open, then closed again as a swarm of pleasure sweeps over her as Alex’s hand continue to roam over her body.

“Me too.”

“Hmm?”

“I had a huge thing for you, too. Still do.”

And then, somehow, she’s having sex with her best friend's fiancé.

[eternalpassions]

He’s a Beast!

Summary:  Kagome's life changes forever as her brother Sesshoumaru makes his way back into her life. What happens when two siblings with unlikable personalities are forced to live together? A tale of a beautiful beast and a tomboyish Belle.

Warnings: Incest, Language, Mentions of homophobia, suggestiveness

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30752492

@chierafied​

My Kagome Art 

Kagome frowns at her reflection, annoyed, and a bit angry for a few reasons: one being she has to dress feminine which she doesn't normally do. She’s tried being feminine, it just doesn't work. Her hair always sticks out on all sides no matter how she fixes it. She can't walk in heels even if her life depended on it. She prefers wearing straight-cut jeans, tennis shoes, and hoodies.The only reason why she’s kept her hair long all this time is because her stupid parents and stupid best friend Inuyasha told her not to cut it because she’d look “funny”. 

Snorting at her reflection she plucks at a fly-away hair. Tugging at the dress she was wearing, feeling completely out of her element in the 3-inch heels she absolutely refused to wear the stockings her mother had provided. Glancing over to where they lay on the dresser she sneered at them.

The only reason why Kagome is wearing this ridiculous outfit today is because she is being forced by her parents for the occasion. Which brings her to the other reason why she is so put out right now...her stupid brother Sesshomaru.

The brother who she hardly knew besides a few old rusty memories. She remembers her being pushed high in the swings when she was younger, her older brother gathering his full force to send her flying into the sky with her hair dancing in her face, laughing uncontrollably, and his small smile behind her. 

 It has been ten years since she has seen him. They used to be close when she was little, but now he was practically a stranger to her. He moved out of the house when he turned 18 she was just a child at the age of 10 then. When he left it was like he had cut all ties, the memories she had she packed away never to look back on again. When he left it hurt, she had missed him at one point but now it was like she was an only child honestly sometimes she forgot that she wasn’t an only child. 

 He moved into a big bustling city for university leaving behind his old home in the rural countryside. When he had finished school he stayed in the city to attend law school snagging a top-shot position at some big firm. After that, he was nowhere to be seen except for the occasional holiday and those were rare, she could count on one hand the times she had seen him since he moved out. 

His lavish life with High society, big fancy events, and other vain things he never bothered keeping in touch with her. Her brows knit together as a frown further marred her face at the thought of how he probably thought he was too good for the life he left behind. 

What’s worse is that even when he did decide to grace his old home with his presence, he hardly acknowledged her. The only thing he would do was greet her shortly by saying her name as he walked by. 

Had he always been so stoic? 

His demeanor put her off, he felt so cold, callous, and uncaring. It was so different from the brother of her memories. It was like he was a completely different person.

How did he make it through life with that kind of personality?

“Stupid brother” She muttered to herself.

A knock on her door brought her out of her bitter thoughts. She turned towards  it and sighed 

“Kagome, hurry up! Everyone is waiting! What’s taking so long?” Her mom scolds from behind the door.

“Yea, yea I’m almost done” Kagome grumbles

She hears the muffled sigh before her mom adds  “Don't even think about coming down with an attitude either.” 

 ‘Hmph’ Kagome thinks to herself as she crosses her arms indignantly. Knowing herself as she did, she didn't know if she could really make it through this night without showing a bit of ‘attitude’. She was supposed to get all dolled up to see her brother who really just seemed like some extended family member that no one really knew or cared about. 

Kagome walks out the door stumbling slightly, catching herself on the doorway. She curses under her breath. Taking a moment to steady herself she makes it to the stairs. ‘Maybe I should just take these damn shoes off until I get to the bottom’ She thinks as she looks apprehensively down the stairs. Her mothers face appears at the bottom with an impatient scowl. Clutching to the railing of the stairs as if it's a life line she cautiously makes her way down taking hesitant steps down the stairs. As she gets closer to the floor, she can hear warm laughter coming from the living room.

As soon as she reaches the bottom of the stairs her breath hitches in her throat. The man she sees sitting on the couch looks nothing like that young man who came to visit on rare occasions. He was dressed in a black suit with a red tie that stood out in a stark contrast against  the silver of his hair that was inherited from their father. She thought it was odd that her parents were okay with his hair being at such a long length when they would nitpick at her and judge her appearance and choices as harshly as they did.

She’d never seen a man with hair that length in the countryside they grew up in. What stood out most of all and completely took her breath away was his eyes. In her earliest memories of him she remembered them being a hazel color bordering on yellow but now as she looked at them she could see that the yellow they bordered on was now a bright golden color.

 Those golden eyes blinked as he caught sight of her standing in the living room. She couldn’t read his eyes, but they made her forget about her nerves .She felt herself become enslaved by those eyes and for some reason, she couldn’t look away. She didn’t notice how the reason she was able to see those golden eyes so clearly was because he was also gazing at her with just as much intent.  

She’d lost track of how long she stood there staring at her brother until her father cleared his throat and their mother coughed, dragging her away from the trance that held them both captive.

“Kagome! What are you doing just standing there! Come, greet your brother!” Her dad scolds from where he is sitting on the couch next to her mother.

Kagome jolts into action feeling her face heat up a bit in her embarrassment. She carefully makes her way over to where her brother is. She felt like she was walking on ice and at any moment she would lose her balance and come crashing down on the floor. Standing in front of him she finds herself feeling nervous now being in close and direct sight to the brother she hadn't seen properly in so long. Her heart beats erratically against her chest.

 Finally standing in front of him she can’t help but notice how he towers above her. Now, she hadn't remembered him being that tall.Through the tightness of the white shirt under his suit jacket she can see that it accents the muscles hidden there. She definitely didn’t remember those being there! 

Her thoughts are whirling around and her mind can’t seem to catch up with the present and as a result she stutters “ Ses-Sesshomaru.” which is completely unlike her. 

‘What’s going on with you?’ She wonders to herself. She wasn’t one to cower like this, to display weaknesses so openly.

‘This guy is nothing to you besides someone you share blood with.’ Kagome scolds herself.

“Kagome, it's a pleasure to finally see you again.” He says. 

Those golden eyes seem to brighten, holding her prisoner once more in place as he gently takes her hand in his and raises it to his lips placing a soft and fleeting kiss there. It feels like an out of body experience she has no control over the moment once his lips meet her skin she feels her blood run hot and she can feel the blush rising from her neck to her face. 

 She wonders what he is thinking at that moment as those eyes seem to smile at her but she can't read him, she can't tell what’s going on in his mind. His face remains a stoic mask as he regards her. She feels like he is laughing at her but she can’t be sure as unnamed emotions flash through those intense eyes of his.

“I love how we’re finally together as a family again. Let's head over to the kitchen. The food is ready, we have important things to talk about” Her mother beams, not noticing the strange interaction between the two.

“After you” Sesshoumaru gestures in front of her with a flourish of his hands.

Kagome nods with a tight smile, her footsteps heavy and awkward as she walks ahead of him. She didn't know what would await her tonight, and she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for it. Not knowing what was so important that her family would get together like this made her wonder if it was good or bad.

 It made her feel like a bird trapped in a cage ready and vulnerable to an attack. It made her think of that nursery rhyme she had been teased with all her life. ‘Kagome, Kagome bird in a cage.’ She flinched internally as it popped into her mind. 

‘Fuck that’ she thought. 

She tries to distract herself from her anxiety of what was to come from this dinner by thinking about her brother. She didn't know what to make of him, he seemed polite and well-mannered. That was good right? There was still something about him that made her feel like maybe he was a predator waiting outside of her cage tonight. She tried to shake those thoughts away, maybe she was being paranoid about the whole thing. Maybe this really was going to be a nice, warm family dinner after all. 

Her parents sat across from each other in their usual spots, Kagome took her seat beside her father, leaving the chair directly in front of her for Sesshomaru. Her parents happily chatted, recounting old memories that were almost lost to Kagome. Sometimes people needed other people to remember for them so the memory wouldn’t be lost forever.

“I remember how Kagome would get bullied by the neighborhood kids for being such a tom-boy, and for the boyish way she dressed.” Her mother recounted her memory of the day when she sent Kagome out of the house to school in an adorable and girly outfit that she deemed ‘appropriate’ only for Kagome to sneak out of the house with a pair of her brother's old pants and a tee shirt that she had changed into. On the way home one of the neighborhood boys had pushed her to the ground while telling her that she was a girl and that she would never be allowed to play with him and the other boys. 

“Sesshoumaru would have none of it. He would step in front of Kagome and just glare at them and that was enough to have them running for the hills,” Her mother looked across the table over to Kagome sighing in defeat. “Ever since she was little our Kagome was always a little strange.” She finished her memory shaking her head and chuckling. 

That comment had Kagome’s mood sour as her face pinched in annoyance. She didn't like her parents making such comments right in front of her as if she wasn’t there. She knew she was a little different than other girls her age, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t sting being called strange by her own parents. 

Yes, she was unconventional to say the least. She started to wear the boys uniform when she reached middle school. She didn't like the way the girl's uniform looked on her; it made her feel awkward. It exposed her legs to the point it made her uncomfortable. She preferred the boys uniform, it didn’t show anywhere near as much skin and made her feel more comfortable.

“ What’s your point?” Kagome snapped as her mood darkened. Leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms. She gave her mother a taunting smile silently daring her to continue making her feel as if she wasn’t there.

“ Nothing, nothing honey we’re simply making conversation, anyway speaking of that we have an announcement-” her mother tries to continue on.

“No, No let’s keep having that conversation” Kagome leans back to the table steeling herself ready to fight. She knew how this conversation went. They went through this all the damn time. If her mother didn’t want her to have an attitude she certainly was not picking peaceful conversations for dinner. It was like she was provoking her instead. 

 “Am I strange because I wear jeans instead of skirts? Because I wear hoodies? Because I like sports? Because I listen to Lady Gaga? Or is it because I kiss girls” 

The room goes silent. Kagome knows she has done exactly what her mother told her not to do. She had an attitude. Well more than that, she’s probably ruined the whole dinner. She really needed to do something about that mouth of hers, it got her in trouble far too much. 

“It seems that she’s learned to fend herself just fine without me” Sesshoumaru speaks up after what feels like a long time. Kagome is not sure if her eyes are playing tricks on her but she sees his eyes glimmer .

 “Kagome, honey, speaking of that we have something to announce” Her mother clears her throat.

Kagome raises an eyebrow, curious at what the announcement was. It had to be something important or else why else had they invited her brother and made it a family affairThere had to be a reason why her parents decided to host this dinner and invite this “brother” of hers and play the role of the happy family for once. Her mind is temporarily distracted from the argument her mother had provoked. She’s curious to hear what the big announcement is supposed to be.

 Suddenly that feeling of apprehension and unpleasantness returns to her like an uncomfortable chill creeping up her body. 

Kagome begins to understand what this night is really about when the doublespeak begins as soon as her mother begins talking.

As Kagome listens to the excuses being told,she begins to translate the doublespeak in her head. 

"We were talking to Sesshomaru a few days ago about how you’ve struggled with your teachers and school and you haven’t made the best choices”

Translation: She has failed to meet demands, she’s insubordinate, a failure, and her choice of friends suck.

“So because of this we think it might be best for you to move in with your brother for some time. It might help put things into perspective for you on how one should behave while also giving you the time and space you need to learn who you are, as well as what it expected of you."

Translation: We think dumping you off to your brother who’s practically a stranger to you might teach you to grow up. Learning from the successful sibling will help you become less of a failure.

“We’re afraid you have irrational tendencies, you don’t consider how your actions make others feel and you need to know what’s expected of you”

Translation: She’s showed some bisexual tendencies, which we find  deeply shameful and she needs to be straightened out. 

“Living in the city will be better for you than the countryside. We don’t think you’ll flourish here, moving to the city could be a  better option for you.”

Translation: We’re sick of having you here, we’re kicking you out

“ We want the best for you, and this means we can't put this off any longer,” her mother continues and Kagome can feel the air getting thinner as she breathed.

Translation: Get the fuck out of here!

Kagome feels as if she has been kicked in the stomach. The air leaves her, brain momentarily shutting down, and she feels dizzy. Eyes darting back from her father to her mother looking for confirmation of what was just said. As silence drags on, she becomes more angry at the affirmation of the reality she doesn’t want to face. Kagome stands slamming her hands on the table knocking over the chair. 

The chair hits the floor with a crash. 

“Are you serious?” She screams, noticing how her father and Sesshomaru flinch at the tone in her voice. She doesn’t care about their reactions, she has had it with this so-called family. This family that pushed all these decisions on her and gave her no choices of her own.

Kagome’s voice booms across the room. “So you’re telling me I have to move in with my 'brother', That's a stranger to me because I’ve failed to meet your expectations!” 

“ Honey you know it's not that” Her father finally speaks up after what feels like a long time. Kagome had almost forgotten about his presence. He’s only smiled passively the whole night not saying anything of much substance besides the usual affirmation. He almost blends into the walls with his passivity and lack of presence.

“ Yes it is! What choice do I have? You just decided that once I’m 18 and you have no legal obligation to me anymore you’d ship me off to this man I don’t know! It's either go with him or go to the streets right?!” Kagome tries to laugh tauntingly to cover up for the tears of anger that were on the verge of rippling and falling down her face.

“Kagome, I know this might seem hard but-” Sesshoumaru says as he carefully stands up. He really was trying his best to keep up this proper brother act wasn’t he?!

Kagome forgets the previous nerves she felt being near her brother and she feels anger pour out of her. So she was right to be apprehensive of him. He didn’t come here without any kind motives. He came here to trick her with his fake politeness and fancy appearance to drag her out of the only home she ever knew!

“No you shut up!” Kagome turns to Sesshoumaru and scowls. She points to him angrily “ I don't want to hear anything from someone who I’ m supposed to call my brother, but who I’ve hardly seen in 10 years and who only graces me with his presence to take me away from my home!”

“Kagome” Her father tries to chime in.  He moves his hands in a downward motion to try to calm the situation and Kagome.

 “IT’S BEEN DAMN NEAR 10 YEARS since he has really been around and you're telling me that you have just decided  yourselves that I Should just go on and get out of the only home I have known just because I don’t follow the social norms that you expect of me? Are you kidding me?!?” She interrupts.They have said enough it's time for them to hear her now. If there’s one thing she didn’t know how to do was going down without a fight. 

“We just want what is best for you Kagome. It doesn’t matter anyway things have been set up and you don’t really have a choice in this.You have an awful attitude, you are ungrateful and it seems like you are going to need to learn to grow up the hard way. You can go with Sesshomaru or not either way you will not be staying here.” When their mother finishes her new rant, shock plays across Kagome’s face with intense anger.

Kagome feels the tears begin to stream down on her face.She looks at her parents faces and sees their faces full of resigned conviction. She looks at Sesshoumaru’s face and she isn't sure if it’s her eyes playing tricks on her, but she sees his eyes look deeply troubled and almost guilty. Against her will she feels herself once again drawn into those golden eyes. She feels as if there’s something more hidden under the depths of the gold in his eyes. As if there’s a mask falling off.

“Kagome” He opens his mouth to speak but it is too late Kagome has already stormed out of the room.She kicks off the heels she is wearing and dashes out of the front door. She didn’t want to look into those eyes any longer, she was afraid she’d find something she wasn’t ready to see. What she needed to do was get away and be angry.

Yes, she needed to be angry at the world, angry at him .Sesshoumaru she thinks in disdain. He probably didn’t even feel bad for being the one to drag her out of her home under the guise of a caring older brother. He probably only felt bad since now he was the one taking on this burden of a sister!

Yes he was just an Idiot brother! She ran faster as she used the adrenaline of her speed and anger to fuel her. She felt she was bordering on insanity as she smiled through the tears as she pushed her body harder.

She didn't know for how long she had been running laps around the neighborhood before she stopped in front of the large maple tree in the middle of town.

 She heaves and uses the last bit of her energy to jog near the swings, She collapses on the ground and against her will begins to remember the swings that hold the one memory of her  idiot brother that she remembers fondly. She stares up at the sky occasionally wiping away a tear of anger from her face. The moon is waning tonight it's crescent shape shining brightly in the night sky. 

It's not long before Kagome notices that she is no longer alone as she looks to her left and spots the clean, pristine shoes of her brother, She looks up and  sees the bright golden eyes of her brother almost looking like they are expecting her, “What do you want?” She hisses. Of course the one time he does come around all of her choices are being taken from her and her parents hold a celebratory dinner to kick her out of the house. Now he probably wanted to play the concerned brother. Idiot.  

“Kagome,” His voice comes out smooth like velvet to her ears and she suppresses the shiver that wants to travel down her spine.She reminds herself that she should be angry at him.

Now of all times he wanted to play the role of the caring brother who wants to check up on his little sister? It was rather ironic coming from the man who only showed up to trick her and side with those who saw her as nothing more than a burden. 

“No, you know what. I don’t care what you want. Save the good brother act. I know you don’t give a fuck about me or what I want.” Kagome swears venom his way.

“ All you came here to do was trick me and do what they wanted which was to drag me away from my home. Which lets be honest you probably don't even want to do since you see me as a burden like everyone else does” her voice begins to break  down. Shit why was she beginning to cry again?!

 At this point she feels the tears gliding down her face at an increasing speed. She feels like an idiot, turning into a sobbing mess in front of this brother she hardly knew.

“ Kagome, you must know that wasn’t my intention-”

“Oh yea then what was it then? To waltz in here, charm me, play the good brother who didn't leave and ignore me all this time then laugh at me as you kick me out of my home?”

She watches him through glassy eyes. He stands with his hands awkwardly in his pants seemingly unsure of what to do. She looks into his golden eyes and for a brief moment she thinks she sees that conflicted Sesshoumaru from before. But it was gone before she could confirm it.

“ Fine, don’t believe me, do what you want, I am simply following our parents wishes.I am leaving tomorrow morning, make up your mind by then” He waves dismissively and walks off.

Kagome watches as he began to walk away. She sits up and watches his soulette in confusion at how his mood changed so easily. Did she imagine that look of conflict earlier? It almost reminded her of that look on his face he got as children when he worried about her, back when he used to care for her.

“Hmph” Kagome grumbled, that couldn’t be the case. She saw what he did back there. Tried to charm her, make her lose her composure, appear all polite and kind, then backstab her along with their parents and kick her out of her house! Then he comes to act worried about her, then acts like he doesnt care and acts like she has any choice in the matter! He’s just messing with her!

He’s wicked! Kagome says to herself. She almost felt like she was Bell from Beauty and the Beast. Dragged out of her home, against her will, to live with what might as well be a beast!

Yes, because Sesshoumaru was like a beast! She told herself. He didn’t look like one with his poltie appearance, pristine manners, fancy clothes, and beautiful face. Beautiful face? She exclaimed?! Why was she thinking this about her brother?!?

She slaps her face with both hands in an attempt to calm herself. She was probably still high from the adrenaline rush of the run. She had a bad habit of looking for highs to ironically calm herself. Running, sex, drugs,  you name it. She really needed to calm down and get a grip.

Within a night, her brother was able to do what no one else could do: trick her and humiliate her. She really didn’t want to give him any more satisfaction that he got to her more than he already had. He’s seen her cry for shit’s sake. 

“Focus kagome” She sighed and took a deep breath as she looked up at the stars in an attempt to calm herself.

It seems like she was in a stalemate situation. Her parents wern’t going to budge, stupid Sesshoumaru was just in it to do their parents bidding and she was trapped in this situation. He said she had to decide what she wanted to do by morning. Was he mocking her, because she really had no choice in this!

Suddenly a realization comes to Kagome’s mind. She can’t go against the decision made by her parents, but she could act like she agreed to go with Sesshoumaru. That way she could tell people she left on her own accord and she wouldn’t have to give her parents nor Sesshoumaru the satisfaction of knowing they dragged her out of her home! She may have to live with a beast, but she wasn’t going down without a fight! She’d do what they wanted her to do, she’d go live in the city, she’d go to university there, she’d work at the firm, but she'd do it all to spite them! 

“Watch out Sesshoumaru,” Kagome says to herself, smiling, full of conviction. She knew what she was going to do.

[writeiolite]

and sting like a bee — [ WTF U! 10 ]

❝ You’re close to your dream life: early graduation and big-city opportunities. A one night stand with Oikawa turned into two, which turned to three, which somehow turned into two little lines on a plastic stick. It was nice being able to live your dreams, but suddenly it’s time for you both to wake the fuck up and start being parents. ❞

wc: 2,531

WTF U!: m.list . 10 . 11

A week goes by before you see Akiko. Being a mother of two is a lot of work, especially since she still has a job of her own, but she insisted on meeting on her day off. It wasn’t that much of an issue for you, though. Your days were as content as ever, even if you hadn’t gotten a call back from the law firm Rina told you about. To your surprise, Akiko’s actually interested in hearing all about your past few days. Unlike Rina, she’s not just curious to be curious — she’s intently listening to every word you tell her over sandwich wraps and soups.

“He thought a pottery date would be fun for both of us but honestly I was a little bummed,” you admit. “I kinda suck at pottery and Oikawa was really good at it. I think he started to feel bad for me because he started working on a mini pot with me. Which — not to gloat — turned out amazing.”

Akiko, who asked you to call her Aki when you first sat down, laughs cheerfully at your words. She laughs like she was there with the two of you, so engaged in your storytelling like you’re the most important public speaker there ever was. 

“Yeah, he’s definitely talented, but he never rubs it in other peoples’ faces. You’re just lucky it was something casual and not something competitive like laser tag or something. He can get pretty harsh.”

You snort at the words, but you don’t brush them off. “I don’t doubt it. He’s so sneaky too, like, you won’t believe what he did while Amaki was over.”

You don’t notice you begin gushing over Oikawa like a crushing schoolgirl, but Aki soaks it all in with a smile and a few comments here and there. It’s nice to talk with someone that knows him. Telling your friends from home and from college is like writing a story — anything you say will build this image of him for them, and you could either make or break him. But with Aki, you can talk freely. She can actually jump in and add more to your stories, successfully making you laugh alongside her.

One comment, though, has your smile faltering. 

“Ahh jeez, that kid… He’s so hasty. But I promise you it’s for good reason.” Aki takes a sip of her iced tea, both of your plates empty at this point. “I know you’re only a couple dates in and we’re just getting acquainted, but don’t get intimidated by how fast he’s going. His parents and ex put a lot of pressure on him in his past relationship to move things forward and he’s been beating himself up over it for quite a while now. Don’t tell him I told you that, though~.”

Oh? “Really? Here I thought my irresistible charms were driving him insane.” You rest your chin in your hand with a dramatic sigh, making Aki giggle at your antics.

“It sounds like his charms are driving you insane,” she retorts, right on the mark.

“What?” Your neck and cheeks warm up. “Definitely not. I mean, he’s fine but-”

Aki’s gleeful laughter cuts you off, her elegant form curled over slightly as she holds her stomach. Even though you’re embarrassed, you can’t help but smile along with her.

“Okay, fine, he’s definitely making me feel something,” you admit softly. It feels weird to say it out loud, but you’re glad no one else is there to listen besides Aki. Especially with what you’re about to say. “But there’s probably another reason he’s pulling stupid tricks like that and insisting I meet his parents and stuff.”

Aki is Oikawa’s family — you might as well consider her yours too and tell her. She cocks her head at you, patiently waiting for you to elaborate while you silently ready yourself to say those two words you haven’t said out loud to anyone except Oikawa.

“I’m pregnant.”

From the entire set up of the situation, you almost feel like this is a really bad rom-com with a half-assed script. Your delivery was too dramatic for your liking, causing you to word vomit right after as if to ease the tension.

“I-It’s not what you think though. We weren’t trying for this to happen but we’re doing our best to figure out the best plan for the two — er, three of us. We didn’t really know each other too well before this so we’re kinda struggling to find our footing. Which is why this weekend was only our second date. Plus I want to take things slow since I’m trying to get a new job. I know I’ll need one to be a responsible mother and-”

“Y/N, Y/N, hey, why are you freaking the heck out?” Aki asks softly, reaching forward and taking your hands in hers. Without realizing, you had begun to speak with various gestures in your panic. Somehow the soft look in her eyes and the way she gingerly holds your hands with a mother's touch magically calms you even just a little. “Let me walk you through a few things, alright?”

You nod quietly, trying to keep your breathing under control before your fear of how she perceives you tears your lungs up.

“First of all, congratulations,” she starts, gently squeezing your hands with a smile. “Secondly, there’s nothing wrong with what you two have. Honestly, I’m only shocked because you both seem to have it all together. Frankly, Tarou and I thought the two of you were already dating, which is why I asked for your number in the first place. And considering everything you just said about taking things slow and planning things out and finding a stable job — I’m really proud of the two of you.”

The reassuring smile she gives you is like a breath of fresh air. You needed to hear that. Perhaps you feared of speaking about this to anyone else because of the negative backlash. Your friends don’t even know about the pregnancy yet. But hearing how welcoming Aki is, you almost feel like you could tell anyone.

Of course, you wouldn’t do that.

“What kind of job are you looking for? You’ll need something that isn’t constantly physically straining.”

You nod in agreement. “I left a message after work last week for the Dayoung Silva law firm in Osaka but I haven’t heard back. Do you know of any legal aide jobs hiring nearby?

“Dayoung…” Aki’s brows knit together as if deep in thought. “I don’t, no, although that name is familiar. I can ask some of my coworkers if they know of any.”

You mentally sigh, almost giving up on the job entirely. It was too good to be true.

“Now,” her tone shifts to be a lot more serious. “Pregnancy is something you need to be diligent about! Have you and Tooru talked about prenatal appointments? How far along are you? If you haven't already scheduled one, you need to do so within the first 12 weeks of your pregnancy. The sooner the better so that you have ample time to prepare things and can establish a good relationship with your doctor early on. I can recommend you to mine if you- Y/N?”

There’s practically a parade of stars and ducks orbiting your head at the sudden onslaught of passionate words, making Aki laugh. She definitely knows what she’s talking about, but she can get a bit carried away.

“Uh, I should be around 4 weeks now, I think… We haven't really talked about appointments. We’ve been going back and forth about how to handle our parents and stuff,” you sheepishly admit.

Aki nods in understanding, already hitting you with a reply without hesitation. “Let’s get you an appointment for Thursday then, the 5th. Is that okay? I’ll even go with you. I can ask Tarou to take the day off and take care of the boys for me.”

“Aki, you’re too helpful to me… I feel b-”

“Don’t even say that. We’re family now! I’m not going to let you go through this alone. Whatever you need, I’m there.” Her eyes crease when she smiles, squeezing your hands reassuringly again.

“Thank you, just please don’t tell anyone else besides Tarou-san. I know your in-laws want Oikawa to move fast but I’m still having trouble believing this is real. Like, everything is out of order right now and I can’t help but feel so dumb because we’re going on dates that make me feel like a giddy school girl even though we’re literally gonna be parents soon…”

Aki listens to you. Like, really listens. She lets you spill your struggles and doubts and then helps you sort them in a line or reassures you that they’ll sort themselves. She’s helped you out more than anyone else has in a matter of minutes — it’s hard to believe anyone can really be that nice.

And it doesn’t stop there. Thursday comes along and she’s accompanying you to your appointment just as she said, Oikawa in tow. She must’ve sensed your hesitation and discomfort because she was quick to firmly plant him down in the waiting room.

“You,” she sings, “need to stay right here.”

“What? Aki, I need to be there with her.”

“Okay, Superman,” you snort, but Oikawa actually looks hurt, making you regret it.

“Y/N, I wanna be part of this… I don’t want to be left behind during something like this.” He hates that he sounds so vulnerable, especially in front of everyone in the hushed waiting room. So many people can probably hear his voice waver and heart ache. But nothing is worse than you not wanting him in there — in your life during something so important.

“Tooru-chan,” Aki starts, “you can be there for every other appointment, okay? She’s a little nervous and having you there might be distracting. I have a folder made for the two of you and I'll take note of everything the doctor says, alright?”

Distracting? Is that all that I am? Oikawa balls his fists up, begging Aki with his eyes and a clenched jaw to let him join the two of you. It should be me in here.

When she doesn’t budge, he turns to you, desperately taking your hand in his. “Y/N, tell her I can go. I won’t be a distraction, I swear. I won’t make you uncomfortable and I’ll be quiet the whole time and-”

“L/N Y/N?” a nurse calls from a newly opened door.

You don’t even look between him and her — you can’t look at Oikawa at all when he’s begging like that. You've never seen him do something like this or look so dejected. If you look at him now, it’d make it all too real that you’re being selfish, but you can’t help it. You don’t want to go in there with him and play mommy and daddy, you want to preserve the image of the two of you as a happy man and woman going on playful dates and getting to know each other. You want to pretend for just a little longer.

You pull your hand away, legs moving fast in the direction of the nurse who called you with Aki following behind after making sure Oikawa won’t follow too. But at the sight of you practically retreating from him as if he hurt you, he wouldn’t dare. He hangs his head and grits his teeth.

He hates this. He’s powerless right now and not even given the first opportunity to be with you — to be with his future family. There’s so much he wants to ask and so much he wants to learn and hear about. He’s never going to get another chance like this again, so why would you take that from him? What did he do wrong? Why isn’t he enough?

He can feel his chest tightening and head pounding. He just wants to be there! Why won’t you let him? What’d he do wrong? He can’t breathe — he doesn’t want to breathe. Does he have to sit here the whole time? When will you come back?

He checks his phone realizing only a few minutes have gone by. He can’t do this. Rather than sitting around any longer, he rises to his feet and walks out.

“See, that wasn’t so bad?” Aki says cheerfully while walking beside you. 

You nod along with a smile, thankful that the appointment was a lot more welcoming and easier than you anticipated. It helped that Aki was there to answer things you didn’t have the answers to and soothe your nerves. She’s really a gift from your lucky stars.

“Huh?” Aki stops walking, looking around the waiting room while pulling her phone out of her purse.

“Where’s Oikawa?” you ask, but you don’t really want the answer.

Aki makes a few taps on her phone and then pulls you toward the direction of the door.

“W-wait, don’t we have to pay and schedule the next appointment?” you stutter out, nearly stumbling over your own feet.

“Tooru said he handled it already… He’s waiting in the car,” she says quietly, and you can almost feel the guilt like it’s your own. But obviously, you have your own guilt to eat away at you.

Once you two make it outside, Oikawa’s already pulling the car around to the entrance. He doesn’t say anything when you two get in, his eyes are hidden behind his glasses and hands loosely holding the wheel. He looks unbothered, but his inner turmoil leaves a foul air in the car. It’s almost scary how calm he looks. You can’t really tell if he’s mad at all.

Maybe he’s just sulking a little, you figure, glancing at him from the passenger seat. 

“Second to last week of December is your next appointment.” Don’t let them know you’re mad.

“Oh, perfect timing, Tooru-chan,” Aki praises. “She’s around 5 weeks now, by the way.”

“We’ll be able to hear the heartbeat during that one. I already took that day off of practice so I can drive you again.” Don’t let them know how much you were looking forward to it.

Aki pulls the folder out of her purse while Oikawa drives along the road toward her house. “I asked every question in the book and wrote the answers in detail for you both. I also put in some of my own notes and things you should keep in mind for the next appointment. I’ll see if I can get off work for the-”

“That won’t be necessary, Aki-chan,” he interrupts, voice so quiet it almost isn’t heard. But the message behind it gets across clearly. A wedge between the two of you was the last thing he wanted — he feared it. All he wants is to square things away one thing at a time and be involved in this new life. He has to be — how else will he make sure things go okay? 

But if this is what she wants then she finally got it.

{ taglist — tell me if you want to be added or taken off: @vventure @ilikeyourstory @infamouswhitepawsies @mikwrites @svtbitch @jaehyunluvcult @for-ests @imbxckytrash​ @booklover240 @ushimiyas @daisukissed }

[hecohansen31]

Not The Right Time

The Story of How Everything Solved (for now):

Ivar+Reader (Modern! AU)

(Chapter 1: The Story of How We Ended Up There)

(Chapter 2: The Story of How He Found Out)

(Chapter 3: The Story of How She Found Out)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

Happy Easter, if you celebrate it, if not happy Pesach and if not... happy eat-all-the-chocolate in the world!

I hope you’ll enjoy this fic, because I have decided to take a bit of a pause from my original fic, but don’t worry, you’ll have certainly your weekly fic!

As always, I am more than happy to be given feedback.

It has helped me a lot with the last chapter of ‘To Kill a King’ to understand the direction to continue the fic in, so if you have any sugesstion-ideas, I am just here!

Feedback makes my heart beats faster and move my fingers quicker!

Also if you want to support me, here’s my ko-fi!

SUMMARY:  Ivar now hasn't simply to deal with one scorned woman, but two.

But, not only the thought of bieng separated from Eric pains him too much to be considered, but feelings for you are slowly being brought up, even more when you smile so prettily and take care so lovingly of your child.

WORDS: 6,1K 

WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, Pregnancy at a Young Age, Mention of Abortion (and Being Harsh About it), Heartbreak and General Angst, Abandonement Issues and Being A Single Mom, Mention of Infertility, Talk about Custody Battles and Custody, Fighting and Angst, Use of The Word Cripple.

The day of the game you couldn’t help but be nervous about whether Ivar would be coming or not.

You had sent him a small message that morning, to ask him to confirm his presence and if he wanted to meet you and Eric, before the game started, to have breakfast together and he hadn’t answered you, making you almost think he wouldn’t have come.

Which you didn’t know if it would have been a good or bad thing.

Maybe he had started thinking that Eric was ‘baggage’ for him, and most importantly would ruin his picture perfect life, although, if it was like that, you didn’t understand why he had insisted so much to try to support you.

But you couldn’t help but dread the thought of what his absence would do to Eric.

You had told him in the car about the fact that Ivar might not have come, lying that he had had an appointment, coming up at last.

‘So… if you don’t see him… don’t worry’ you had tried to console him, although he had already gotten quite the pouting expression, thing that made him similar to Ivar in any way, shape and form.

And you had felt like the worst mother ever.

Eric had brightened up a bit as his friends had all come around him and lead him to the coach, once he arrived at the game.

You definitely appreciated Eric’s schoolmates, and were grateful for the warm welcome they had given him.

He had had his own share of bullies, although he said everything was fine.

But once he had created his own group of friends, the bullies had eventually stopped taunting him.

You still kept an eye out for them at these things.

And as much as you were thankful for the other kids’ company, you dreaded their mothers.

You hated stereotyping people, but no mom had ever been so nice to avoid doing the same with you, as they looked at your hand-me-down clothes, and your lack of diamond ring on your finger.

And at your young face.

You had heard some rumors going around you, how you had gotten pregnant pretty young from an older man, probably some married man and had been basically thrown out of your small city for the shame of carrying a bastard.

A crippled bastard.

So, you tried not to associate yourself with them and instead, you had developed some kind of strange friendship with Angelika.

Angelika had also married young and had a child even younger, but after a small year together her husband had decided that the married life wasn’t for him.

He had gotten himself a mistress, meanwhile Angelika tried her best to keep the family safe and going, getting a small job in a local law firm.

By the end of the year she had kicked out the lazy husband and was the owner of the law firm, in a truly inspiring story.

At first, she hadn’t liked you, too young and stupid.

She had thought you had done the same mistake as her, but then she had soon discovered that the story was deeper, and she had taken the time to get to know you.

Not only she had become your friend, but she had pushed you to pursue the gallery work, eventually getting you an appointment as a try-out.

She was honestly one of the few people that you trusted and felt like she genuinely liked you.

Angelika immediately reached out to you, as she saw you arriving on the side of field where parents were allowed.

As usually she carried her small water bottle, filled with vodka and orange juice, and the ripped shirt of the soccer team, worn inside of her boyfriend jeans, meanwhile you wore it over it, completely uncaring of your appearance.

“Oh, thank God, you are here” she immediately mumbled, gripping onto your arm, as she brought you in a tight hug “… it’s been for ever since I last saw you”.

“… been busy” you were simply able to breath and you giggled softly at her affectionate antics, before she smirked at you.

“Gosh all business and no fun” she reprimanded as she took in your discarded appearance “… I gotta take you to some club”.

“What about Finn and Eric?” you asked, although you knew perfectly that if Angelika put her mind to something, everything would ever change.

“Drop them at my house, I’ll tell Theresa about it” Theresa was her German nanny, perfect and impeccable always eye-rolling at Angelika’s antics, but it didn’t wok with Angelika, who would eye-roll even harder back at her.

“I’ll think about it…” you mumbled, unsure of the entire thing.

Before Eric you had never been one for clubs or such, and you certainly wouldn’t start after the entire pregnancy and your motherhood, not simply because some nights you were too tired to even crawl to bed, but because there was a reason behind your uncaring appearance.

You were scared of your body.

Of the way it had changed during your pregnancy.

“… I know that tone” mumbled Angelika, prowling around you as a big feline “… that’s the ‘it’s definitely a no, but I am too gentle to tell you no’ “.

“That’s a ‘I’ll think about it’ “you retorted softly, as you gently held an hand out for her, before something else caught your eyes.

Ivar.

He had come.

And he was looking around as if he was a lost child.

“Just excuse me, for a moment…” you mumbled softly, as you approached him carefully, since he had this kind of lost emotion in his eyes, sadness almost and you couldn’t help but feel a fifteen girl again, who blurted out weird Taylor Swift lyrics because her best friend was unhappy, and she was trying to make him feel better.

He shook himself back to consciousness as he saw you in front of him, almost scared.

“Well you are here!” you said it with definitely much more uneasiness that you were supposed to, almost a forced out emotion “… I mean… you didn’t answer me… so I thought…”.

“Yes, I am here” and you knew that with that tone you had gone back to that fifteen-year-old-girl smiling at her best friend, because she knew she loved him.

You were screwed.

---

Ivar had woken up on the couch that morning, with his legs hurting like hell and yet, when he had seen your worried messages on his phone, he had just thought that he would be late for Eric’s game.

And he couldn’t.

He had swallowed a few painkillers, as the memory of last night came back to him, but nothing set onto him till he moved into his car, setting the journey for the school park, but then he just couldn’t stop himself from thinking.

‘What the hell am I thinking?’.

His soon-to-be-wife had basically left him because of his lies towards his life with you, and he was running to you and your child, as if you were his wife.

Which would only confirm Freydis’ jealousy.

Although he wouldn’t have approved of her psyched behavior, she certainly hadn’t been wrong about the influence you and Eric now held over him, but he would have preferred she hadn’t straight up attacked him.

But to avoid this, he shouldn’t have kept the secret from the start.

But would have Freydis allowed him to see Eric?

With that serious tone of their ‘confrontation’, he couldn’t help but feel like he had seen a side to Freydis he wasn’t used to.

Something he wasn’t completely unaware of, since he had seen some glimpses of it, but at the same time, it now seemed so deep-rooted that for a minute he had to admit that he had thought that she was going to be much more than simply vocal about the matter.

He certainly felt guilty for the wrongness of some of his actions, but he was also surprised by Freydis’ reaction to them.

He had thought some jewelry and a few promises might have made it all better, but now, in the aftermath of their fight, he had no idea how to make everything better.

Certainly, dwelling in his car wouldn’t have worked.

He tried to contact her, but her phone was switched off, and he honestly didn’t know where she could be found, certainly not a work, which was the only other contact he had for her.

And he realized he knew nothing of his soon-to-be-wife.

He didn’t know who were her friends, to who she could have gone and neither her family, since Freydis had told him that she had had a bad experience with them and had run off as soon as she could have.

He remembered a small apartment at which he had come to pick her up on their first dates, but she had soon moved away from it, as soon as Ivar proposed he just started living with her.

Hence, she was a ghost.

And although it made Ivar feel like a horrible husband, he couldn’t help but decide that this meant that she simply didn’t want to be found.

If he knew one thing for sure about Freydis was that she never did anything without a reason.

And he should have respected that.

Although it pained him.

He didn’t want to give her the impression that he didn’t care.

But at the same time, as he had made it clear the previous night, he wouldn’t leave Eric.

No matter what.

Hence, he started the engine and got to the school park.

He had almost regretted the decision, when he had arrived at the venue, immediately catching a crowd of chanting parents had welcomed and, although everybody kept their eyes to themselves, he couldn’t shake off the fact that they were staring him down.

He caught sight of you quite easily, as he saw you by the side of a pretty brunette with feline eyes, trying to convince you to do something reckless by the horrified look on your face.

It was the same you’d give Hvitserk every time he’d try his wicked charm on you.

Those were happier and easier times.

You were wearing a simple soccer jersey and oversized jeans, and although they both hid your body, they did nothing to dampen the natural beauty you had always owned.

He couldn’t help but wonder how men didn’t buzz around you like bees on a flower.

‘Stop being a creep Ivar’ he told himself, meanwhile he remembered the words of Heahamund after he had shown him a photo of you and Eric.

‘Fucking God! Do you even realize what a hot babe you left?’ he had immediately stammered as Ivar blushed ‘… did they drop you on your head as a child’.

And he confirmed it, with the way he answered your question.

Your eyes held a frantic fear and a pleasant surprise, almost as if she hadn’t thought that he’d actually come.

And your cheeks were flushed red.

He had a pleasant memory of your cheeks being flushed after their first and last night together.

It brought out all kind of memories.

‘Again, Ivar, no’.

“Well I am glad you are here” whatever gentleness you had showed for him immediately retreated back in you as you turned “… Eric will be happy of it”.

“Of course, I couldn’t miss his great day” his tone was teasing, and he could see with the way you stiffened in your position, he had hit something inside of you “… is he already on the playing ground?”.

“Sadly yes” you mumbled, but pointed him out to him, although he didn’t need much time looking to recognize the only child with braces, trying to exercise with the others, and as he exchanged a quick glance with his child, Eric immediately raised an hand to salute him.

His smile got so so big, that Ivar couldn’t help but smile back.

And ignore the continued glares sent his way.

Now intensified with his proximity to you.

He could only imagine what they all were talking about.

And as you two took a quick seat beside the brunette he had seen you talking with at the entrance of the venue, she immediately moved towards Ivar, offering a hand and a charming smile of pointy teeth.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved that your ‘friends’ were so protective of you.

You deserved it.

You deserved to be protected from anything else that could have hurt you, after everything you had endured.

“… Angelika Magnussen” she mumbled quickly presenting herself “… (Y/N)’s best friend”.

He almost wanted to scoff that he had once been your best friend…

… and look where it got him.

Where it got both of you.

“Nice to meet you, Ivar Lothbrock…” he sent you a quick look to check with you, but there was no need to lie since everybody seemed to recognize what was going on “… Eric’s father”.

“Gosh I never thought I would have ever met you” in her tone there was a tang of sarcasm that annoyed Ivar, definitely more used to people like Freydis and his mother who would have no trouble agreeing and siding with him.

Maybe not Freydis, anymore.

“… I didn’t know” he simply muttered and you pushed yourself between her and him, sending to both a vicious glare, before the referee whistled the start of the game, getting the three of you to focus on the game.

Ivar couldn’t help but be on edge as soon as he saw Eric in oversized gloves, trying to guard the door, something that could seem absolutely normal and harmless for every child who didn’t have osteogenesis imperfecta.

But for Eric, he couldn’t help but feel nervous.

But you beside him seemed completely at ease, cheering on the boy as he managed to block the ball from entering the doors, and then pushing the ball to his schoolmates.

He couldn’t help but be again amazed by your prettiness and the natural way you did everything and handled motherhood.

And then a ball hit Eric right on his chest, knocking him off his legs, enough that both you and Ivar immediately moved raising up as Ivar made a move to move away from the steps you were sat onto, but you grabbed his hand to stop him as Eric got up pretty quickly, the trainer of the team coming close to him, alongside the school nurse.

And Eric immediately put himself up, lightly limping as the nurse helped him off the field, and the trainer got another boy to take care of his place.

And then as he moved towards the benches, you both scurried off the steps.

You both came to the part that was the closest to the benches seeing the nurse helping Eric with his braces, as you oversaw the entire process, before moving to check in with the nurse, his bones.

Thankfully the hit had been to the chest and the legs bucking off under him were simply for the impact.

And Ivar couldn’t help but watch raptured your soft gestures and the way Eric leaned in softly against you, as you checked on him before helping him into his braces again, asking with a whisper if he felt ‘ok’ enough to stay.

The child immediately nodded as a few of his classmates moved to also check on him.

Ivar had never had this kind of love poured onto him.

He had also to admit that sadly he wasn’t an easy child, as loving and gentle as Eric was.

But he couldn’t help but appreciate that his son had what he hadn’t had back then.

He might end up not turning up in the big screw-up Ivar was.

You returned to him a few minutes later by Ivar’s side, and although you had seemed quite calm and cold-blooded for the entire action, he saw the way your body trembled lightly and…

… your hands were still linked.

Suddenly you gripped tight back onto his.

And he honestly liked it too much to tell you anything, although it wasn’t proper.

He had Freydis.

Or at least he had had her.

Because her actions of the previous night certainly weren’t something that made him feel reassured about his relationship status.

But at the same time, he wasn’t sure that it was so bad to be away from Freydis.

Mostly when your hands matched so perfectly in his.

He had forgotten this feeling.

And he realized he had missed it.

And when you unlatched your hands, as you sat down, he couldn’t help but feel more hurt by that than the pain in his legs, that was starting to bother him.

As soon as the game was finished. he pushed himself by side, meanwhile you and Angelika waited for your children, to take his pills again.

He was caught mid-swallow by a laughing Eric as the boy limped lightly to him and you helped him, a blond boy beside him, who hid underneath Angelika’s legs and from the way their eyes shone of the same malice, he understood he was her child.

“Ivar! Ivar!” he called out, as he tugged gently onto one leg of his pants “… have you seen the way I got that ball?”.

You giggled at his excitement and Ivar couldn’t help but nod gingerly, although he didn’t know shit of soccer, and compliment his child on his optimal score, but Angelika’s child looked at him suspiciously before muttering softly.

“… your dad doesn’t know shit about soccer” he muttered, immediately getting both yours and Angelika’s attention.

“Phineas Christian Hogarth! I don’t pay an expensive German nanny for you to curse in American!” Angelika reprimanded him quickly, gripping tight onto his shoulders, as she saluted you, continuing her lecture “… at least do it in German!”.

But the deed was done.

And Eric looked confusedly at you and Ivar.

Ivar wasn’t so afraid of it all, in the end it only accelerated things, but you looked like you had had seen a ghost and Ivar quickly proposed going out to lunch to celebrate, hence shifting the attention away from the boiling revelation.

And Eric was all too happy to be distracted.

Even more with food.

But you looked still so shaken that he couldn’t help but feel like the tables had turned from the start of the day, with him being the confused one.

As you both sat down, finishing your lunch, as Eric escaped your attention to move onto the game section of the restaurant.

“… I am sure that he’ll forget about it, as soon as he can” he mumbled softly.

You were unfocused as your gaze didn’t shift from Eric, till you shook yourself away of it.

“Maybe…” you seemed doubtful, although Eric hadn’t said anything, proceeding to explain to Ivar everything that worked in soccer, as you drove them to a small restaurant, definitely chosen for the children area and menu.

He couldn’t help but think again about all the work you had done as a mother.

It certainly took all the courage of the world to grow a child on your own.

“… and would it be so wrong to if he had heard right?” he asked, and you petrified him on the spot with a tight look.

“That depends…” he had loved that teasing tone you’d use every time you were annoyed with somebody that wasn’t him “… will you stick around?”.

“I am trying to” he commented.

“And Freydis?” you were hitting low, he wasn’t surprised “… does she know about this?”.

And his eyes answered before his words and you pushed yourself back lightly as if you had lowered yourself too much in his psyche.

“… she knows” you simply mumbled.

“… and she doesn’t like” he added with the same grim tone “… she is also pregnant so…”.

“… so she thinks that Eric is threat to her child” you completed and Ivar couldn’t also deny that he had missed your immediate telepathy “… we won’t be pissed if you want to disappear, you can do it, I don’t…”.

“I don’t want to run away!” his voice raised lightly and the usual annoying old lady beside their table raised her head to hear them better, but Ivar immediately lowered his tone again “… I don’t do that… anymore”.

“But she is pissed” you mumbled, your tone almost guilty “… I could call her, explain how we aren’t… we aren’t involved and how…”.

“She has switched off her phone” he shot back.

“… doesn’t this sound familiar?”.

And yeah that did sound familiar.

It was the same that had happened when he had broken your heart.

“… yeah it does” as he raised his head to meet yours, he almost expected to see a satisfied smile on your face, but you looked honestly… sad for him.

“… she won’t leave you” you mumbled softly “… you didn’t break her heart”.

“I kind of think that hiding a family from her is not exactly the definition of caring for another”.

“And yet you were happy for the baby and you proved to her that you wanted it” you spoke softly, as if you had imagined the same with you “… she just needs to clear up her head”.

“It’s fucking strange that you are comforting me” he mumbled, unbelieving what you were doing.

“… well I am used to your fuck-ups” you giggled silly, shooting a look at Eric as you continued to be attentive at him “… but if she gives you another chance please don’t fuck this up, ok?”.

“Ok” he mumbled, before his gaze also shifted on Eric “… she wanted me to give up on Eric”.

“Don’t blame her” and he hadn’t expected it “… us, women, are put against each other as natural competitors, so it isn’t strange for her to feel threatened by me, although she has nothing to fear. She is the one with an engagement ring”.

“I also think it’s because you and me… we…” Gosh why was he acting like a teenage boy “… had sex back then”.

And you were also flushing.

“I am not interested in your adventurous sex life with Freydis… but don’t you also?”.

“No” why was he explaining your sex life with you “… you were the only one with who… you know… the doctors said that it’s the legs and some others told me it was just my confidence not being enough… the child was created in vitro”.

“Oh” you looked taken aback, and he could see that you were processing the thought of being the only one he had been with, in “that” way “… well I do say that she has a few reasons to detest me”.

He just nodded.

“… but I do think that she should be sure about your love” you added immediately a nostalgic tint in your pretty eyes.

“Why?”.

“Because I know for experience that when you fall for somebody you fall hard, and so deeply that it is difficult not to feel loved, even though you are an asshole and sometimes a bit too harsh with your words, but you have this thing that’ll make everyone feel like being loved by you is the greatest privilege ever”.

And like that you had come closer to him, maybe more than it should have been allowed between two ex-lovers, one of which was engaged.

But he couldn’t help but value attentively each word you said, as you gently pushed yourself back, as if you hadn’t revealed to him some special secret.

Back in it, he had always thought he was ‘the difficult one’ but with those words a veil of insecurities was lifted off his chest and he couldn’t help but think about how it would have been if he had stayed with you.

And for one moment, he almost wished it.

---

You had definitely gone mad that evening.

And you blamed it on the fact that Ivar’s behavior had simply brought you back to five years ago, when you’d walk together on the small playing field of school, usually with one trying to convince the other to ditch school.

It was mostly Ivar, but you had followed many times his dark influence.

And again, this time it had gotten to you.

But it had felt nice.

Except the entire Freydis’ thing.

You had honestly felt bad for her, almost guilty, although it was Ivar’s fault (and you had told him so, as you suggested what to do to calm her down), because she seemed as somebody extremely nice with the way Ivar described her and she shouldn’t have had somebody just barging in her life with a child that could shatter her relationship with Ivar.

Maybe you should have spoked with her, explaining that you weren’t a threat to her and her child in the slightest.

One day Ivar would have gotten tired of this toy and would have wanted a new one.

And yet, the way Ivar had reacted immediately when Eric had got hurt and the way he played almost naturally with him (even informing himself on ‘The Flash’) was genuine and you hoped it’d last.

You were coming back home, just in time for a shower and a dinner, since Eric had insisted to teach Ivar a few tricks with the balls in the nearby field and Ivar, although clumsily, had agreed, even going as far as to ask you to film him getting won over by your child.

Eric had fallen asleep on the field and you had had to use a bit of Ivar’s help to get him back in the car, as he asked you if you needed anything.

‘Just do me a favor and try calling again Freydis, she’s probably going to switch her phone soon, believe me’.

‘If it makes you sleep well at night…’ he had replied simply, shifting the sarcasm back onto you, and it had been… strange.

Although again, from what Ivar said, Freydis seemed nice, he had seemed to talk about her as somebody would of an idealized role-model, but with less passion and more analysis of why ‘she was such a good partner’.

But it wasn’t your place to judge.

You woke up Eric as you arrived at home, the big boy immediately attaching himself to you as a koala, as you pleaded with him to let you go.

‘Mommy is a frail gazelle, and you weight like an elephant!’.

‘Mommy you are more a lemur’.

‘You pass a few hours with Ivar and then you treat me like this!’ you had retorted before tickling him till he had asked for forgiveness and had been awake enough to walk on his own, helped by you, because due to the strain he had put himself through his legs hurt.

‘A quick bath will solve everything’ you had mumbled and as you had helped him clean himself, as he played absentmindedly with a small boat, he had asked the fateful question you had been waiting for him to ask:

“Is… Is Ivar my daddy?”.

You froze in your movements, although you had been waiting for that question since Phineas had pointed it out.

In the end Eric was a smart boy, he certainly wouldn’t have missed all the clues.

And you couldn’t lie anymore.

“Yes” you mumbled trying to keep your tone low, as you saw your child’s eyes brighten and immediately all that fear of your child being hurt scared you even more than the thought of him running away from you.

“Then why didn’t he tell me before?” he continued asking, curious enough to prove to you that he had inherited Ivar’s precious mind.

“Because I asked him not to” you mumbled gently, seeing immediately offense shining in his eyes “… you see me and your dad… we didn’t have a good relationship, your dad… your dad and I aren’t together”.

“Does that mean that he isn’t my daddy” his tone honestly broke your heart and you couldn’t help but be hurt by this yourself and you hurried to shush him softly.

“No no, he is, but…” you didn’t want to break your heart to your own child, but you couldn’t keep him in the shadows “:.. daddy has another child on the way and a woman who will become his wife soon, so he might… he might not want you to call him ‘daddy’ “.

You tried to be the most delicate possible, but you, yourself, were on the verge of tears and were grateful that Eric didn’t ask questions for a bit, as he seemed to think all over this.

“… but I’m your mom and he’s your daddy that means that we’ll always love you, even if we are a bit busy… “ you tried to sweeten everything “… don’t ever doubt that”.

He seemed to think about it again and as your heart was breaking you rushed to take him in a big hug, as he hugged you back immediately and you stayed like that till you felt  a bit too cold for your drenched shirt, and gently moved your child away slightly to help him out of the bathtub.

As you were drying his hair, he finally spoke again.

“… but can I ask him if I can call him ‘daddy’, the next time we see him?”.

And you smiled at the sweetness of your boy.

“Of course, sweetie”.

---

Ivar had tried to call Freydis but again her phone was off.

He was halfway through asking Oleg to dig up his ‘sources’ to search her, when he walked back in the apartment and found her there, as if solely his positive thought had made her appear.

And he honestly had a few minutes in which he simply looked at her getting dinner ready thinking it might be a hallucination.

And as much as he had been worried, he couldn’t help but also be a bit disappointed by her presence.

And guilty for having spent the day with you.

She continued preparing of dinner, and Ivar took his sweet time adjusting everything about himself, such as getting out of his braces and pushing his light coat onto the coat-hanger, making less noise possible, as if a noise would have startled her into disappearing.

He felt like he was in trap, having no other option than to acknowledge her presence and she did the same with him.

With her usual smile as if nothing had happened.

But it only angered Ivar further.

“… where were you?” he asked, huffing out the question “… I was worried”.

“I was over at Ubbe’s house” and the affirmation hit Ivar in the guts, because he’d have expected his brother to at least say something, maybe to ease his smaller brother’s worries.

And worst of all: what would he have thought about Ivar letting his wife go.

“… I think we need to talk” he muttered, since Freydis was certainly ignoring the entire situation as if it hadn’t happened “… about what happened last night”.

And finally Freydis stopped her rummaging of the kitchen to look at him, her pretty clear eyes and her styled hair doing nothing of what they’d use to do on Ivar’s heart, as if it was frozen and not even her timeless beauty could make him feel better or less annoyed by her childish antics.

And her betrayal.

“I… I am sorry” mumbled Freydis, completely surprising him as he expected her to at least keep up her attitude of the previous night “… last night… I was… out of control”.

And what was worst of all was that deep down he felt annoyed by her apology.

As if he felt it wasn’t genuine.

He kept his mouth shut, playing the silence game with her as she stammered through what he’d have described as ‘excuses’:

“… I was a bit tipsy… and I… it’s shocking, isn’t it?”.

“Freydis, I am not…” he tried to formulate a thought that wouldn’t have made her feel attacked “… I am also not completely in the right, since I should have told you about it from the start but it was a shock for me too”.

“Well… but for me… think this like me, Ivar, please” she pleaded softly as she sat down in front of him “… you are pregnant and your fiancé finds out he had a child from a past relationship… would you have felt calm?”.

He certainly wouldn’t have been calm, but at the same time the possessive and mean way she had talked to him and about Eric.

“Certainly no, but I’d have asked for explanations” and then decided on the matter.

“… I wanted to, but then… you were so convinced to keep the baby in our life…” she was stammering again, as if her confusion was a sign of her heartbreak, the same way she had felt when she had discovered it “… and since you didn’t tell me I thought you wanted to keep it a secret, that you’d have discarded me for another…”.

And in that moment, finally, Freydis’ apology seemed genuine.

But mostly because he, himself could understand her train of thoughts: the worry of being replaced being one of his biggest fear.

And one hand shot out to hers to comfort her softly and she leaned in immediately.

“Freydis, I am not discarding you, I want you, I want you as my wife” he spoke, his tone slowing on every word, as she softly moved even closer to him, gently purring against his warmer body “… but Eric is my child and I don’t want to abandon him”.

And although Freydis hid well her annoyance to this, he still felt her stiffen against him, eventually getting her to simply nod, but she didn’t speak.

But it could have been worse.

And yet he thought about the afternoon with you…

… it could have been better.

---

You had managed to brighten Eric’s mood through a ‘rewatch’ of the ‘Small Avengers’ series and as the phone drilled, he immediately caught to get it, faking being Quicksilver, as your mother pretended to catch him.

But he dodged her quickly and got the ‘magical phone’, joking he had defeated Ultron as you and your mother faked being dead and defeated.

Eric proceeded to answer the phone, since he thought it might have been Phineas, calling him to chat about the game, since they usually would spend the afternoon together talking and they hadn’t been able to do it, today.

And you were very surprised when Eric thrilled an excitedly screamed: ‘mom it’s Ivar!’.

And you quickly ‘reanimated’ yourself and rushed for the phone, as your mother’s hands wrapped around Eric, and you moved to your room, in order to have a bit of privacy.

“Haven’t you had enough of us?” you joked, although you felt like choking.

“… maybe not” he shot back “… she came back”.

And Gosh it hurt.

Although you were aware that a relationship between you two wasn’t possible and you had made peace with that, still the notion that he had moved on, hurt you in a way that stole all the breath from your lungs.

It was impossible that already five years had passed.

“I am glad” your tone was pointed “… now don’t fuck it up”.

You were almost ready to close the phone in his face, when his voice kept on talking.

“I told her about Eric, and how I won’t abandon him, even though I am marrying her”.

That was unexpected, to say the least.

“… how did she take it?” you asked between tight teeth.

“Well… I think”.

“That doesn’t seem well” you shot back, with a sarcastic laugh.

“… it was either that or not being together” the ruthless voice Ivar had assumed made a shiver go down your spine “… now that I have finally found you, I am not giving up on you”.

He could have said ‘Eric’ or ‘him’ but he had chosen ‘you’.

You shouldn’t honestly overthink about it all…

… but you were overthinking it.

“Now can I talk with him?”.

Yeah, you shouldn’t overthink the entire thing.

“Just let me get him” you replied softly, as you found Eric with his ear against the door of your room “… we have had the talk”:

“That’s…” Ivar’s voice trembled lightly “… wonderful”.

You simply moved the phone onto Eric’s hands, unable to deal with this illusion any longer, as the child immediately giggled softly, and he greeted Ivar, sprinting off to his own room, but you could hear clearly when he called Ivar ‘daddy’.

And for the first time, in this whole mess, you thought that maybe it would have made less damage than you believed it would.

---

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