#How To Avoid Lawyers In Divorce

[chososdiscordkitten]

Ex-Husband Gojo

artist: yunonoai on twt

Synopsis: Gojo as ur ex-husband trying to win you back („• ᴗ •„)

Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor mentions of readers appearance, THERES PLOT IN THIS ONE!! Mentions of pregnancy and getting back together again, seducing(?), fingering, spanking ONCE, reader gets folded like a chair, multiple orgasms, cream pie, aftercare(?)

(a.n) underlined text is a link incase u need a picture of the position :>

MDNI

You could never hate Gojo, even if you had been divorced for a year- pretending to barely tolerate him when you saw him. 

But you knew in your marrow- you could never hate him. The only man in your life for the past 7 years, father of your child, and provider of anything you could ask for.

The divorce didn’t even affect Gojo- even as he was signing the papers, he still looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Give my wife whatever she wants.” he directed his divorce lawyer, earning an exasperated sigh from your lips. 

Everything your own lawyer asked for, he shrugged. 

The house? “Take it.” he scoffed, looking at you with all the love in the world. 

Child support? He didn’t even blink. Satoru offered to give you money every month. As long as you didn’t work and stayed at home to care for his son.

Forget the cars or the cabin in the mountains you would go to in the winter to ski. None of that bothered Satoru. He would give you whatever you requested as long as it made you happy. 

It only made your head pulse- the way the divorce lawyers were looking at you like you were some kind of horrible villain. Divorcing a seemingly loving husband who would give you anything and everything you asked for. 

That was until you asked for sole custody of your child, knowing he barely had time when you were married; how would he find the time as a single father?

“No,” he said sternly, in a deeper tone—now taking this seriously. “50-50, or nothing.” he threatened, a dark aura looming over his figure as you caved. 

You asked for a divorce, not because he never gave you enough— that was never the problem. Gojo loved giving and had more than enough to offer, especially to his wife and child. 

The issue was, two years into marriage, he knocked you up. It wasn’t a problem though. Married, old enough, and stable enough to welcome a child into the world.

Satoru was present a lot more for those 9 months you were growing his child. Ignoring the responsibilities of his demanding job. 

Nine months of pure bliss. Moving into a house, painting your child’s nursery together. Shopping for clothes, going through Satoru’s unbelievably long list of baby names- 90% of which you said ‘no’ to. 

The two years before you were pregnant, you were aware of how demanding Gojo’s job really was. You knew he would be gone more often than he was present. 

And it didn't bother you. If it made Satoru happy and he still returned to you at the end of the day- you didn't mind. 

But during those nine months of growing his child, you thought the rest of your lives together would be the same. You thought he would be present more often than not.

And when you were pushing his big-headed child into the world, it was almost like a switch flipped in Satoru’s mind. As though he looked down to the child that was undeniably his, lily white hair—the same shade as his, and bright blue eyes, just like his father's. Gojo saw the future in the boy he held in his hands. 

Gojo never told you, but that day, he realized he had to work harder, to give you and his son the best lives you could have. 

He distanced himself, making sure to leave as much space between you and his work as he could. This led to you wondering if he just didn’t find you attractive anymore, or if the domestic cookie-cutter life wasn’t enough for him. 

Had he told you the truth- maybe the divorce would have been avoidable. But Satoru saw this divorce settlement as you throwing a fit. 

Deep down, it hurt him. It pained his heart even thinking that you would consider leaving him, but he allowed you to sign those papers. 

It only meant he would have to make you fall in love with him all over again. 

You scoffed at his demand of 50-50 custody, knowing you saw him two nights a week when you were married. Not even being able to fathom how he could handle having your son 50% of the time. 

But Satoru surprised you in that area. Always being on time to pick up his kid from your doorstep, giving you a big hug every time he would see you. Even kissing your forehead when he would leave. 

You didn’t think anything of it- he invested so much of himself in your marriage; it was instinct by now.

But when you’d be at the park with them, watching him hold the little hand of the mini Gojo that looked identical to him. Smiling with a soft warmth, Satoru may have always run out of time- constantly. But it was undeniable that he was a fantastic father. 

When he ran into an acquaintance from work, he still introduced you as his lovely wife. So often that you stopped correcting him, knowing he would only start complaining if you did.

Even if the law saw you as a single mom. Technically, divorced and with a 5-year-old toddler on your hip. 

Satoru still looked at you and saw his wife. Mother of his child, homemaker, and the only person that helped him heal- the person who gave him the privilege of being a father. 

In his eyes, you were still his. Didn’t matter if you were divorced or not; the marriage dynamic was still present between you two.

Of the two of you, Satoru was the one who was least embarrassed about the little slip-ups. Late nights after you put your toddler down to sleep, wine glasses in hand as you recalled memories from married life. 

9 out of 10 times, it always ended with Satoru’s lips crashing into yours, greedily slotting his tongue past your lips as his hands pulled you to straddle his thighs. 

Nights ending with being cuddled up together, undressed and on the bed you didn’t replace when he moved out. And mornings being awakened by the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen. 

Walking down the stairs with puffy eyes, “Your mama always sleep in this late?” you heard Satoru speak from the kitchen, followed by a little laugh your son chimed.

Nodding your head disapprovingly with a smile, watching your child pull Satoru’s ear to his lips, letting out a small ‘tsk’ at what his child whispered into his ear. 

The sight was always heartwarming, knowing things could’ve been like this all the time if things were different.

And every afternoon, when Satoru would practically be forced out of the house- came the talk of “This can’t happen again. It’s confusing for him-” Only for Satoru to kiss your cheek.

“Won’t happen again.” he would smile, knowing that declaration was a mere tool to end conversations like these. Knowing as long as you allowed it- mornings like these would keep happening. 

There was still a lot- almost too much love, between you and Satoru. You knew this couldn’t continue, branching out and thinking of ways to not be so involved. Being all too aware of the fact that, for the past 7 years, your life has only been your husband and your son. 

Ex-Husband. 

That only proved your point- Satoru slowly started embedding the idea of calling him your husband again, that even in your own mind you still referred to him as such.

You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. To continue entertaining the potential of getting together again. You considered it at first, if he was such a changed man and all he needed was to be reminded of what he lost to change his ways, would it be so bad to get back together?

But the slip-ups and nights shared together in each other's arms were too good to be true. 

You feared that the same thing would happen if you allowed him fully into your life again. He would show you the best parts of him at first, then go back to neglecting his responsibilities to you and his child. 

So when you asked Gojo to babysit for one evening. Instead of asking you why, he asked his 5-year-old son. Who came running up to him, pulling Satoru's hair to whisper another secret into his ear- barely legible and full of amused giggles: “Mommy has a date.” 

Satoru must’ve heard wrong- it almost sounded like his son said you- his wife, had a date with someone other than him. 

He tried getting more information out of his son, playfully asking who, where, and why. But the little man only scoffed, saying that you only said you had a date, and that’s why Dad had to watch him that evening. 

And on the day of, Satoru showed up at your doorstep looking offensively good. Fresh haircut and his hair half dry, a white t-shirt that was entirely too tight, and gray sweats- with nothing under them (slut). And to top it all off, your favorite cologne spritzed onto his chest. 

You opened your front door- you furrowed your eyebrows in disbelief, eyeing the man before you. You hated when he would purposefully show up on your doorstep looking fucking scrumptious. It was too tempting. 

And as he always does- he pulls you into a rib-crushing hug, ensuring you get a face full of his scent. Kissing the top of your head as you loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured against your scalp, pulling away from him and scoffing. 

Walking back into the entryway of your house, hearing him step behind you and close the door- “I thought I told you to come at 7.” you muttered, trying to shake off the invading thoughts of the apparent print in his sweats. 

“I wanted to see you before you left.” Satoru mumbled behind you, following you up the stairs of his house and listening to the TV playing your child’s favorite cartoon. 

You only hummed in response to the excuse as to why he was here a whole 2 hours before you were to leave. 

While you were showering, Gojo sat on the couch supervising his son, who was asking any question that popped into the little man’s mind. Questions the child would ask you, but refuse to think you were telling the truth. So he would ask his Dad, and believe him instead.

You found it frustrating that your child believed Satoru more than he believed you- but endearing that he would always run things by his father.

All the while, answering the little questions his toddler asked- Satoru wondered if you still had that bad habit of leaving the bathroom door unlocked while you showered. 

But Satoru knew he had to take a more subtle approach to the delicate situation at hand. 

As he heard the sound of the shower halting- thanking the noisy plumbing the house had. It always let him know you were stepping out of the shower from wherever he was in the house.

He rose from the couch and grabbed his child from the floor. “Let’s go see what mommy’s doing.” Gojo smiled as he hooked his hands beneath his child's arms, hearing happy laughter from the little human in his hands as he ran up the stairs.

Satoru always liked watching you get dressed, even if it was to go see another man. He enjoyed watching the care you put into your appearance. 

He walked into the humid restroom, his eyes catching the half-way-done zipper of your dress. “Zip me,” you murmured, looking into the mirror as you applied your makeup. 

Satoru placed his child on the ground and walked up behind you, his eyes catching the clasp of your lace undergarment. He furrowed his eyebrows, realizing it was one he hadn't seen before. 

He lightly placed his hand on your hip, his face too close to your shoulder, as his fingers slowly worked up the zipper. Gojo’s thumb caressed your clothed hip, giving you a light squeeze before letting go of the zipper. 

Pressing your thighs together slightly and trying to ignore the warmth of his hand. 

So as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, his child bouncing on his lap, watching you with an adoring gaze, enjoying the angle he had of you slightly bent over the sink. “Where’d you say you were going again?” squinting his eyes as you swiped away any misplaced makeup on your cheek. 

“Out.” you scoffed, knowing if you told him the truth he would only start whining at you. 

So he flashed his eyes to his son, “Do you know?” he whispered, watching his son hold back a laugh as you rolled your eyes. 

As much as you disliked being the bad cop in most parenting scenarios, your child always took his side- always told him the truth when he’d ask.

“Mommy has a date.” he giggled, only for you to look to your side and squint your eyes, “Traitor.” you murmured, watching Satoru’s jaw fall in feigned shock. 

“A date?” he pursed his lips, looking at you sadly. “You asked me to watch my child to go on a date?” his tone was full of sarcasm, watching you nod your head ‘no’ as you looked back into the mirror. 

“It’s just dinner-” you muttered, trying to avoid his harsh gaze on your profile. “Besides, I’m sure you have your fair share of them.” 

Satoru gasped your name, placing his hands on either side of his child’s head and covering his ears.

“You accuse me of cheating in front of our child? I only have room for one woman in my heart.” he scoffed, placing a hand onto his chest- almost as though he found offense in knowing you could- but he never would.

“It’s not cheating, we aren’t married anymore.” 

He pulled his hands from his child’s ears, eye twitching at your declaration. “Who is he?” he asked, tone more severe as his child played with his hands. You sighed, “I have a right to know-” he started- earning for you to look at him with an irritated expression. 

“Just a parent from his school.”

Satoru squinted his eyes. He knew he couldn’t ask you to homeschool his child- ‘socialization’ and all that. But now, Satoru had to worry about you being pawed at while dropping off his son at kindergarten. 

In some attempts to not show he was starting to get pissed off, “If you were into single dads- you have one right here~” Gojo grinned, watching the grimace on your face churn from his attempt at flirting. 

“That’s not it, but thank you for that.” you scoffed, curling your eyelashes and feeling his eyes pierce your skin. 

“So what is it?” he hummed, wanting to know what this man had that he didn’t. 

With a sigh you rolled your eyes, hearing your child slide off his lap and patter out of the bathroom. “I don't wanna talk about this anymore.” you muttered, sensing Satoru rise from the tub's edge and shift behind you, placing his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“I wanna know who you’re replacin’ me with,” he whined in your ear, causing you to scoff and look down to the sink. 

You were used to Satoru clinging to you- showing his affection to you even if you weren’t together anymore. 

Satoru pressed his hips onto your slightly bent bottom, his lips barely grazing your ear, “If this is about your needs- I’m here for that too, y’know.” he whispered into your ear. Making sure you could feel his print against your bottom as he pressed himself closer to you. 

Your breathing increased slightly, parting your lips as his hands around your waist squeezed you tighter. “You don’t have to look for anyone else-” he whispered, lips pressing onto the shell of your ear as you closed your eyes. 

“I’m here whenever you need me,”

Mentally battling the temptation with every whisper into your ear, his breathing grazing your skin, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface. 

Satoru was about to murmur another temptation into your ear. Until your child's crying voice echoed through the bathroom walls. Rushing out of the bathroom and finding your son on the ground of your bedroom- Tiny droplets of blood oozed from his little knee, with fat tears leaving his blue eyes. 

Satoru wasted no time scooping up the crying child from the ground, hushing him with small assurances that it was okay. 

Though it was only a scrape- it was enough for Satoru to convince you to call up this, ‘Fellow parent from school’ and tell him you had to cancel. Setting no reschedule day as Gojo purposefully called out to you- “Honey, where are the band-aid’s?~” 

And with that, Satoru got what he wanted. Your date was canceled, and the man backed off. 

After too many treats and much-needed coddling from his father, your son dozed off in Gojo’s arms as he walked up the stairs, exhausted from the sobbing. Placing him onto the little race car bed he built- recalling the day Satoru helped you paint the bedroom. 

You settled onto the living room couches and thanked him for being here. “M’sorry if you had any plans.” You sighed, looking at the well-favored man before you. 

Gojo scoffed, “No plans are more important than you.” with a slight smile on his lips. 

“And your son.” you clarified with a warm grin.

Satoru looked down at your hands. “And my son.” He repeated your words, reaching for your hands and holding them in his. Scooching the tiniest bit closer to you, “Thank you,” he muttered, caressing the backs of your hands with his thumbs. 

“For what?” looking at him adoringly. 

Gojo blinked his eyes as he engulfed the sight of your expression. Looking back at him with the same look you had when you were still married. “For bein’ a good mom,” he whispered, slowly inching closer to you. 

“-nd a good wife,” he whispered, watching your eyebrows furrow at the proclamation, cheeks tingling from hearing him call you that. Parting his lips as you leaned in closer to him. 

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, “Why did we ever get divorced, hmm?” he whispered, darting his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. Trying to recall the last time he tasted you- finding it offensive that he couldn’t even remember. 

You gulped slightly, watching his eyes go half-lidded as he leaned closer to you. You blinked your eyes closed- feeling the last of your reservations dissolve in your mind as you pressed your lips against his. 

Satoru’s eyes half-lidded as he watched your eyebrows pinch up- letting go of your hands as he traced his fingertips up your arms. Lightly swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, parting your mouth to grant him entry. 

Your hands making their way to his torso- feeling the thin fabric of his shirt beneath your fingers. Sighing as his tongue pressed against yours, his hands trailing to your back. 

Pulling you closer to him as his fingers reached the zipper of your dress. Soft hums of appeasement rumbling onto his tongue. Tugging down the zipper slowly as your hands found the bottom of his shirt, tracing your hands beneath the fabric.

Your fingers grasping against his carved torso desperately, your thumb lightly caressing his happy trail. His hands slipped past the opening of your dress- sprawling against your back. 

You pulled away- looking into his eyes. His cheeks flushed and lips puffy. “We can’t-” you breathed, hoping he would have the strength to put a halt to this. You swallowed- mouthing another ‘we can't.’ before pressing your lips onto his again. 

Letting a soft moan slip your lips as he pulled the top of your dress down- feeling the light grazes of his fingers against your skin. Placing his hand on your side, sliding up your torso and cupping the underside of your laced breast. 

Feeling a twinge of anger once he felt it was a bralette- only a thin layer of lace separating his hand from your soft skin. Even more when he remembered why you would be wearing this. 

Tracing his thumb over the little peak beneath the lace, giving it a soft swipe. Earning a light hum to leave your lips onto his. 

And to check- just to be sure he wasn’t getting mad over nothing; Satoru pulled his lips from yours. Placing damp kisses onto your cheek. Peppering them down your neck, soft sighs and moans leaving your lips were heard as hymns to Satoru’s ears.

Making sure to pay extra attention to your collarbone, taking a few seconds to suck harshly on the skin. Even if you didn’t wear your wedding ring anymore- this was his way of showing any other men that you were claimed- that you were his. 

His hands shifted your hips to sit correctly on the couch, slumped with your dress bunched on your thighs. Satoru trailed wet kisses to the swell of your breast, lightly pressing his tongue onto your laced nipple and swirling against the fabric, coaxing a light moan to fall from your lips. 

Though your eyes were closed, Satoru's grip on your waist told you that he was furious. Had you opened them, you would have seen his jealous eyes looking back at you. 

Satoru hoped he was wrong- hoped you wouldn’t do this to him. All but praying he wouldn’t have to do what he had to if he was right. 

His hands hooked onto the bunched-up fabric of your dress, shifting it down your thighs and pulling it from your body entirely before he pulled his lips from your tummy. 

Looking down at the matching lace panties- soaked as they were, he had never seen them. Gojo’s eye twitched as he looked back up to you, unwilling to come to the fact that you bought- and wore this for another man. 

Satoru liked thinking he was a patient person, calm and collected when he had to be. But the way he rose himself from the ground, manhandling you to flip over and bend your knees on the couch, made him realize he held no more patience for you nor your attempts to make him jealous.

Your hands held onto the back of the couch firmly, keeping yourself up as Satoru’s hands landed on your hips. Groping the malleable skin as you whimpered, pressing your bottom back to the growing erection in his sweats. 

“You wore this for him?” he mumbled behind you, slipping his thumb beneath the thin band of lace. Exhaling, feeling yourself soak your panties even further. 

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands in shame- knowing whatever you said now would only make him more bitter. 

Murmuring something- quiet enough for Satoru not to comprehend. He huffed a smile, “What was that?” he teased, pressing his bulge against your bent bottom, pushing you further against the wall. 

“Tell the truth.” 

You looked back slightly, peering at the crazed man behind you. Biting your lip and facing the wall, “I did.” 

As a reward for your honesty, Satoru gave you a firm spank against your bottom. Causing you to jolt forward with a soft whimper. 

“You’re that needy?” Gojo teased, caressing the warm skin of your bottom, soothing the sting. “That you have to cheat on me?” you exhaled- not wanting to admit how attractive it was that he was scolding you for something he shouldn’t be. 

Taking his hands from your hips and hooking them onto the sides of your panties, slipping them down your hips to be greeted with your soaked cunt. Glistening with the taste he craved from the minute he moved out. 

But even if his mouth watered looking down to your core, he couldn’t bring himself to kneel before you- knowing if he let things go your way, this little farce of divorce would stay in your mind.

No, he had to teach you a lesson, even if he had to pound it into your foolish brain that you were his. 

So as the tips of his fingers grazed your soaked lips- avoiding the bundle of nerves that he was sure was throbbing from how wet you were. 

Circling the tips of his ring and middle finger on your entrance as you let out breathless whines. “I just missed you,” whimpering as you reached a hand back to the one that held your hip in place. 

The words enticed Gojo to dip the very tips of his fingers into your cunt- “Didn’t wanna tell you.” you moaned, admitting the truth he had been wanting to hear for far too long. 

Closing your eyes as he slowly inched his fingers into you. Satoru smiled, feeling your walls welcome him in, too tight to have been recently fucked. So he knew you must be telling the truth. 

Grasping onto his hand, the tips of his fingers prodding into the spot he quickly found every time. 

Your hand that held you up trembling as he lightly curled his fingers. Letting out breathy moans, earning Satoru to smile to himself, “Who knows how to please you like me, hm?” he let out the thoughts from his lips without permission. 

You whined as he pumped his fingers into you with a slow ease. Whimpering softly as he watched with dim eyes. “Who else but me?” he pressed, feeling your grip against his hand tighten. 

“Need you inside ‘toru-” you whined, the hand holding you up gripping the edge of the couch violently. 

Gojo remembered the last time you called him that- biting his lip from the nickname you used to call him when you were still married. And you must’ve known how his mind reels whenever you called him that- or else why would you say it in that tone? 

All but begging for his cock with every light spasm your cunt did around his fingers. 

Satoru was pleased with how pliant you were in his hands, satisfied enough to pull his fingers from your cunt. Quickly removing his shirt before placing his messied hand over his sweats, softly palming himself as he looked at your core- 

Gojo was so sure at that moment- that there was no god- the closest thing to it was what lied between your legs. Pulsing- begging for him to bully his pained cock into it. 

He pulled his hand from his bulge, shoving down the loose band of his sweats and freeing his cock. And as you suspected- no briefs. 

Placing a hand onto his base and lightly tapping his leaky tip onto your ass, causing you to whine. 

Gojo started thinking about how he wanted you- now that you were compliant and needy before him. 

He backed away in the slightest. Kicking off his sweats before moving you to lie back onto the couch. Settling his hips between your thighs. Soaking up the desperate expression you wore as small whimpers left your lips. 

The tip of his cock sliding up and down your cunt- refusing to give you what you ached for. 

His forearms held his torso up as your hands latched behind his neck- legs spread and waiting for him to plunge himself into you. Only Satoru looked into your bleary eyes with a smile, “You wan’me inside?” he huffed- watching your bottom lip quiver, lowering himself close enough for your lips to brush against his.

“Tell me 'nd I will.” he grinned against you- watching your eyes close, trying not to cave to his demands. Biting your lip as he pressed his tip against your entrance- teasing you in the slightest. 

You breathed a light whimper, blinking your eyes open and staring into his power-crazed ones. “Please-” you whined, “Put it inside ‘toru.” the tone you took only made Gojo’s ego boost- smiling with parted lips as he slowly pressed past your entrance. 

A light whimper rumbled from his flushed lips as your hands pulled his neck closer, pressing your lips onto his. Breathing in every whimper, he exhaled onto your tongue as he eased himself into you. 

Being able to feel that you hadn’t fucked anyone recently- That you were faithful to him. And this was all just an attempt to rile him up, which only made him even more eager to burrow himself into you further, ‘You’ve been good. That’s what you deserve,’ he thought as his tongue danced with yours. 

The light sting from the stretch makes you huff out a pained whimper- inching himself deeper till his hips were flush to your thighs. His tip easily found the sweet spot he seemingly had exact coordinates to. 

Satoru placed his hands on your hips, slowly raising himself with your legs locked on his waist. Holding onto your back as you lightly ground your hips flush against his. 

A lazy, sloppy version of a lotus position, pulling away from his lips as you trailed a hand to his hair. Looking into his hazy eyes as his hand assisted your hips. 

Small moans leaving your throat as your lips brushed against his. Not even attempting to kiss him, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep a pattern from how deep he was hitting inside of you. 

A light sheen of sweat coating your forehead as Gojo relished the look in your eyes- just fucked out enough to let the mask slip. Looking at him with love-filled eyes, your bottom lip quivering as your head threatened to tip back. 

Your nose scrunched lightly, neck curving back with a low groan. Not wanting to leave space between you- Satoru placed his lips onto your exposed neck, humming muffled whimpers against your skin as your bottom lip trembled. 

Words forming on the tip of your tongue as you ground your cunt against him. The position so full of intimacy, it made you forget you were doing this with your ex-husband. 

Puffing out a light breath, smile forming at the corner of your lips- sinking into the mouthwatering pleasure you incited with every small thrust. 

“Fuck, I love you.” you moaned mindlessly. But the words rang through Satoru’s ears like church bells, words he hadn’t heard in far too long- even in the past slip-ups. You always held your tongue, making sure to not plant that seed in his mind. 

Gojo almost came when he heard your proclamation, inching you back with his lips attached to your neck. Easing your back onto the arm of the couch, planting a foot onto the ground as your hands kept a tight grip on his neck. Satoru dragged his hips from yours with a loud schlop coming from between your legs. 

Pulling his lips from your neck, he looked at your expression—pinched eyebrows and eyes shut tight- showing him you were close. So close, he could hear it in your sighs of content. 

Satoru leaned down to your ear, huffing a warm breath against your cartilage. Shoving his cock back into you- bottoming out too quickly, earning a whine from your lips. Wasting no time before repeating the movement. Setting a speedy pace with a low whimper.

Sliding your hands up his forearms, landing on his biceps as he quickened the pace- riding himself up an orgasm. 

“Lemme make you a mama again-” he huffed into your ear, his tip nudging your sensitive spot with every thrust- you moaned his name in response, so close your brain would have short-circuited had you tried answering. 

Satoru grunted with a smile, thinking of the words he was about to say. “Marry-” he groaned, feeling your cunt suck him in with every pull he did, “me again.” he whimpered, his thrusts pushing you up further.

Taking a long lick at your ear- urging you to answer him. Pulling away from your neck, placing his hand on your jaw lightly. “Huh?” Satoru grinned.  “Marry me again baby.” Watching your eyes crack open- bearing your teeth softly as you felt the warmth in your tummy over fill. 

Pressing his parted lips to yours sloppily- pulling away, and watching your eyes threaten to roll back. You started nodding your head ‘yes’ in his hand frantically- your walls flexing around his speedy cock as he felt you come undone. 

Your nodding agreement was all Satoru needed to lose the rhythm of his thrusts. Sloppily pushing into your clenching cunt, his whining muffled by his bottom lip being tucked between his teeth. 

Your lips started babbling soundless pleads- ‘please, please,’ and to Satoru’s ears- you were begging for him to fill you. Fill you till he didn’t have anymore to give. 

And as a loving and obedient husband- that’s what he did. 

With one loud grunt- he spilled himself into you- his thrusts slowing, not as long strides, but he made sure to push his seed deeper into you. Keeping that declaration of making you a mom again. 

A low whine left your lips, feeling his warm spend coat your walls with every twitch his cock made inside of you. 

So full, you were sure his proclamation would come true. And he came a lot- as though he was saving it up just for you. 

Heavily breathing as he slowed his thrusts, pressing his forehead to your temple. Trying to catch his breath as he came down, feeling your heartbeat against his own chest- racing and pounding against his sternum. 

Soft kisses planted on your face, your hands easing their grip on his sides. Satoru's hands slid down to your hips, raising himself to his knees and looking down to where you were still connected. 

A low gulp bobbing in his throat, knowing he would have to pull out eventually; And dreading it. Thinking of a million ways to keep you filled and plugged with his future offspring. 

And as you finally could steady your breathing, Gojo yanked you down from the arm of the couch. Back landing flush against the cushions with a soft grunt. Looking at him, all but asking what he was doing. 

Till Satoru pulled himself out of you, hoisting your hips up from the couch with two strong hands. “Sator-” you tried saying, only for his arms to hug the crease of your thighs, bending you in half with your legs flailing in the air. 

All the pressure was placed onto your shoulders as Satoru latched his mouth onto your messied clit. Keeping his eyes parted and watching your expression churn. Placing a hand onto his forearm- bracing as he greedily lapped at your neglected clit. 

Mentally- this was to give his seed a better chance of taking. Hips in the air- all of the cum he had just pumped into you had nowhere else to go but deeper inside of you. And to also get a taste of you- even if remnants of his cum mixed with it. Satoru didn’t care, as long as he got to taste you. 

Huffing out all the air you could, puffs laced with moans. Your hands gripping harshly onto Gojo's forearm, leaving minor crescent-shaped marks on his skin from your nails. 

Basically folded in half, your hips started writhing in his grasp- overstimulation creeping up your spine from his vigorous tongue. 

Spasming in his hands- trying to warm you were close, but it only came out as more ragged whimpers. Clenching your teeth with your eyes shut tight- unable to see the starved expression looking at you as Gojo unraveled you. 

And once Gojo felt your clit tremble between his lips- he knew it was too soon to let you back down; he needed to keep your hips aimed up as long as he could. 

Satoru watched your bottom lip tremble as he continued the movement with his tongue. Your hips trying to shimmy from his grasp- but he held you up with two strong arms that had a mission. 

Abusing your overwhelmed clit as your eyes screwed together tighter- white spots infiltrating your closed vision with desperate moans. The top of your head bumped into the arm of the couch as he pushed you into a firmer bend. 

Your entrance squelched against his chin as he pulled another orgasm from you- more ragged whimpers littered with his name falling from your lips. 

You huffed- feeling his mouth go unbothered from the third orgasm he had given you. “Please ‘toru-” you whimpered, cracking your eyes open and looking at the crazed man holding your hips. Satoru pulled his lips from your cunt- looking at you with a smile. 

Half his face soiled with your arousal and a glimmer of his seed on his chin. “Just one more-” he egged on, looking at you with dazed eyes. “Jus’onemor-” he cut himself off by placing his lips back onto your clit. 

You only sighed a whimper, allowing him to get his fill. 

Satoru lapped at your puffy clit, his eyebrows pinching together as his cock sent signals to his mind- the same signals that he was close to an orgasm. Untouched and so close just from pleasing you- from hearing your pretty sounds. 

Gojo started to whimper lightly- whimpers that vibrated against your cunt and caused your moans to slur into higher-pitched puffs of air- trying to pull through another orgasm. Taking your lip between your teeth with harshly pinched eyebrows, puffing through your nose with muffled whines. 

He closed his eyes- feeling the knot formed in his tummy snap as your knuckles turned a lighter shade, just from how hard you clawed at his forearm. Feeling a warm spurt onto your bent spine as you tried to focus on cumming. 

It took very little time for Satoru to gift you a fourth orgasm, a small tear falling from your closed eye as you aimlessly shifted in his grasp. 

Satoru sloppily licked at your cunt- cleaning up the mess on your clit with a softer tongue, parting his eyes and looking at your expression. Slowly easing his grasp on your hips as he unfolded you, placing one last kiss onto your cunt, earning a spasm from your hips. 

He eased your hips back down onto the couch, watching your fucked out expression breathe in as much air as you could- trying to catch your breath. 

Uncaring if the mess he spurt onto your back messied the couch- you always complained about how ugly it was anyway. 

He lazily laid himself atop you- placing the side of his face on your collarbone as your hands rested on his shoulders, rubbing small circles on his skin. Grunting softly from how easily he laid his entire body weight on yours. 

You parted your eyes, trying to blink away the post-orgasm haze. Even if you had showered a few hours ago- Satoru’s bath offer sounded like heaven. 

It seemed to take no longer than a few slow blinks. Easing into the clawfoot bathtub Satoru chose specifically for times like these when he bought the house. 

Sighing softly as his arms held you close, his palm gently sprawled against your lower belly and your back pressed to his chest. Avoiding the conversation that needed to be spoken about.

Knowing it would never be spoken if you shoved it off, jettisoned aside to be talked about later. 

“Satoru?” you hummed, placing the back of your head onto his chest. 

He sighed, closing his eyes and nodding his head 'no'. “I don’t wanna talk about that right now.” he huffed, feeling your hand clasp his beneath the water. Interlocking your fingers with his and closing your eyes. 

“If we don’t talk about it now, we never will.” 

Satoru smiled. “Then let’s never talk about it~” he scoffed. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to make sense of the meaningless words he babbled into your ear earlier. “You really wanna marry me again?” you asked- unsure if they were just words he mindlessly spouted at the moment- or if they had any meaning. 

He scoffed, “What kind of question is that?” 

Inhaling as though you were about to speak- “Course I wanna marry you again,” he hummed. Rubbing your belly softly, “nd make you a mom again.” 

Pulling his hand from your tummy with a scoff, causing small ripples in the water. “Be serious.”

“You have no idea how serious I’m being right now.”

Your lips pulled to the side, mulling over his proclamation. 

“You still love me?” he asked, looking down at the side of your face. 

Turning your neck slightly, you peered your eyes up at him with sincerity filling them. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried not to admit it, but-  “Of course I still love you, ‘toru.” You mumbled. Heartfelt words that rang true in your heart. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”

“Then marry me.” he whirred, watching your hand pull his left one up from the water. Your eyes admiring the wedding band he hadn’t taken off. 

You stayed silent, holding his ringed hand in yours. Satoru would be lying if he said seeing your ring finger empty didn't hurt. 

Your silence gave Gojo his answer, “Why not?” he whispered, hearing a ragged sigh from your lips. “I still love you- you. You still love me-”

“M’scared.” you mumbled. Feeling your shoulders tense against his chest with a small ripple in the water. 

Satoru let out a half-laugh from his chest. “Of what? I’ve been good, haven’t I?” he grinned, his playful tone invading your ears. 

“You were good when I was pregnant too.” you quipped, dropping his hand into the water and recalling the days he started slipping through your grasp. 

You sniffled lightly, “nd look what happened.”

Satoru bit his tongue. Knowing if he started defending his baseless actions, this would end up being a fight. 

“I spent so long wondering if it was me- if I was the problem.” you scoffed. “I don’t want to let you back in just for the same thing to happen.” 

Satoru pulled you closer with a sigh, “It won’t happen again.” he whispered into your ear, “I promise.” 

You huffed air from your nose, making Satoru think you didn’t believe him. “I’ll even write it into my vows this time.”

A small laugh left your lips, “You won’t miss single life too much?” you played, feeling his head rest against yours. 

“Not once have I felt single since you signed those papers.” he grinned. 

You pondered his offer, pretending to actually consider the option before you. 

Satoru softly kissed your ear, “C’mon- I’ll be such a good husband~” he whispered. 

It wasn’t as though you ever really felt single either- That one year spent apart was still full of love and a marital dynamic. 

The rest of the night was spent in the same bed Satoru built after you moved into the house, cuddled up just the way you had longed for since he moved out. 

The following day, Satoru couldn’t wait for his son to fully wake up- he walked into the hazy child's bedroom and asked if he wanted a little brother or sister. 

All smiles and beaming eyes in the kitchen- telling his son that his plan worked. He made you fall in love with him, and he was finally your husband again.

And as you watched your husband and your son giggle with each other in the kitchen, you smiled. Warm cheeks from the thought that Satoru actually thought you stopped loving him at some point.

But then again, you never really fell out of love, did you?

-

I loved writing this sm.

[sassypossumm]

Everything Reminds Me of Her

Toji Fushiguro x Reader • Angst/Suggestive

I never really had a problem because of leaving...

But everything reminds me of her this evening.

Toji had been silent when you'd said the pivotal words that would change his future.

"I want a divorce."

It'd been a last-ditch effort on your part. A cry in the dark. A plea. An olive branch extended in the hopes that you could save the fragments of your marriage... but he'd just stared at you. 

"If that's what you want."

Had been his cold reply. And your heart shattered. You're still not certain how there was anything left between you to shatter, but in that moment, it did. Like the fragile remains of a once beautiful mosaic, his callous tone and neutral stare shredded what little remained of your resolve. There'd been a few tears, quickly dashed away as you packed an overnight bag. 

Please ask me to stay. Please ask me to stay. Please ask me to stay. 

You'd begged silently with every article of clothing you carefully folded and placed into the bag. Your movements were painstakingly slow, a true last silent plea, your feeble attempt to give him ample g. me to grab you, beg you not to leave... anything. Was it sad that at that point, you'd have taken anything he'd offer?

Probably... but you didn't care.  

"Got everything you need?" 

He sat in the kitchen, drinking a cup, too busy scrolling through his phone to bother even sparing you a glance as you opened the front door. 

"Yeah."

You knew it was pointless, but you lingered a moment longer, hoping against hope that he'd scoop you up into one of those bone crushing embraces you'd always pretended to hate. 

No dice. 

Leaving your keys on the side table, you clicked the lock and closed the door behind you. You didn't hear the shattering of glass against the wall or the loud thumps that followed your departure, he was too good at waiting. Too good at hiding his pain. 

You wouldn't miss the dark bags under his eyes at the subsequent meetings between divorce lawyers. You'd know that he hadn't been sleeping, but you wouldn't know that he'd spend the nights before those meetings drinking and rubbing his thumb over that picture of you two at that carnival you'd went to on your first date. 

You'd never know that he'd worn the edges on that picture until they were frayed. 

You'd never figure out where your favorite silk nightie had disappeared to when you went back to pack the rest of your belongings.

And Toji certainly will never let you know that after he signed the divorce papers, he went home and pulled out that very nightie and jerked off with it pressed against his nose. Eyes screwed shut, head thrown back, he roughly stroked and jerked at his cock, purposfully avoiding the tip and his own precum. He didn't deserve the aid. He didn't deserve the pleasure. Everything but the lingering scent of yuzu and jasmine that clung to the nightie clenched in his fist felt like a mockery. 

If it wasn't your hand... it wasn't real. 

If it wasn't your scent... your voice... your taste... it wasn't real. 

But you'll never know. 

Because he's good with the leaving.

Until everything starts reminding him of you.

[vapekingg]

Last date

Eddie x Fem!Reader

Angst/hurt (no comfort)

Tags - divorce, successful Corroded Coffin, rockstar!Eddie

“We didn’t have to make a whole thing out of this, you know.” You unravel the silverware that’s folded up in front of you and lay the napkin that concealed them in your lap.

The Liberty Bistro, just outside of Hawkins.

You and Eddie used to treat yourselves to Liberty once in a blue moon, back when everything was so simple. He’d make a big sell or you’d pick up an extra shift at the record shop. That was back when all of your money went to rent, beer and weed. The only groceries you could afford to keep stocked were cans of ravioli and milk. Your apartment was just a little one bedroom. It was nothing compared to a glamorous tour bus or hotel rooms, but it was cozy. It was comfortable.

It was home.

That was years ago. And The Liberty Bistro hasn’t changed. It’s still a quiet little steakhouse with candles on every table. Everyone speaks in hushed tones and ambient classical music plays quietly in the background.

Everything else has changed though.

“I wanted to make a thing out of this,” Eddie says from across the table. “You deserve it. We deserve it.”

He smiles with the inflection of his words, but you can see the hurt in his dark eyes.

Eyes as dark as a lake at night, you used to get lost in them back in that little apartment. Liberty’s would take the very last of your money, not a dime left to your name, and never can you remember feeling so rich.

Eddie looks older now. He is older, you both are. You still remember him as the boyish nerd you’d fallen for when you were seventeen though, how his smile lines wrinkled when he finally asked you out and you agreed without hesitation. Everyone else sees him as someone else. A sex symbol. Hollywood’s newest rock and roll god.

You shift your eyes to the bottle of wine that’s sitting on ice at the edge of the table. Anything to avoid seeing his hurt. This was a mutual decision, after all.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Did you bring the, uh…” He waves his finger before bringing it to his mouth. An old nervous habit that you’ve been on him about for years.

The divorce papers.

You reach for them in your bag and lay them out on the table. There’s about a hundred pages here, his lawyers had insisted on it and yours a had argued with you to fight for alimony.

You didn’t want alimony. You wanted your husband.

That stack of papers sits between the two of you like an omen. It was easier to get married. The decision to get divorced didn’t come as naturally.

Eddie’s eyes hold yours for a moment, finally breaking with his resolve to glance at the end of your affair. You see the crinkle of his chin, how his bottom lip is a little red and wet from being chewed on. If only you could comfort him this time, too.

“Baby…” his voice breaks, even in a whisper.

“Eddie.” You whisper back more firmly, tears stinging your eyes now.

To be quite honest, you’re tired.

Tired of fighting the press and the record label. Tired of traveling. Tired of being alone.

You find a pen at the bottom of your bag and set it atop the stack. It doesn’t need to be that big. It’s just one signature. He purses his lips and bites back tears, but you can see them in the clench of his jaw. The flex of the veins in his neck. Eddie quiets the demons screaming at him to give it all up, to tell his managers to fuck off and stay here in Hawkins with you, and instead grabs the pen.

He signs his name across from yours. The end of your marriage.

You look up, expecting time to have turned back somehow. You wish you were still twenty years old and eloping with Eddie to the courthouse. Instead his eyes are heavier, partially because of you. Eddie is older. His hair is a little thicker and his stubble scratches your face now, or at least it did. It will the next girl. He’s on the peak of greatness, and at one point you thought you wanted to stand on that summit with him.

Now, you just want to heal. And you want him to heal, too.

“Well I guess that’s that.” You finally say.

And Eddie smiles. For your comfort, you can tell.

“That’s that.”

Hi! Just letting you all know that my requests are open for Eddie, Steve, Robin, Hopper, Billy, and Rick Sanchez. Prompt me, folks.

[praetorqueenreyna]

Elaingate Master List

Greetings, fellow clowns! As I have previously threatened, I have created the Official Elaingate Master List! I tried only to include posts made that were intended to be humorous or analytical, and not ones that were just negative. I also didn't want to get too far into ship wars, so some posts may have been excluded because of that. I also very easily could have missed some posts, since there isn't a single blog for me to scour for all the content made. If you feel that you made a post that should be on here, please message me!

This post will be in multiple parts because it's TOO DAMN LONG! Enjoy!

(Putting the masterlist under a read more because HOLY SHIT is it long!)

Fanfiction

warmth (Tamlin/Beron) by @feyres-divorce-lawyer (AO3 link)

the bridges we mend (Tamlin/Beron/Elain) by @mathiwrites (AO3 link)

banned from Elain Week (Tamlin/Beron) by @shadowqueenjude

Beauty and the Beast (Tamlin/Elain) by @ennawrite

Spider-Lily (Elain/Ianthe) by @spidersmiceandeverythingnice

Stone Statues and Viperous Hair (Elain/Ianthe) by @velarisbynight

Fanart

Guess who just got BANNED!!! (Tamlin & Beron) by @jadedbugart

You got us banned from Elain Week! (Tamlin & Beron) by @thrumbolt

true soulmates (Tamlin/Beron) by @mossytrashcan

Beron/Elain and Tamlin/Elain by @mygreendandelion

Tamlin/Elain by @arson-09

Threesome fun (Tamlin/Beron/Elain) by @loonylooly

Banned for being too sexy by @herrinarte

Tamlin, Elain, and Beron by @rosesncarnations

Poetry

An invitation (Beron to Tamlin) by @rin-u-pos

A Rejoinder (Tamlin to Beron) by @jules-writes-stories

Elaingate limerick by @rin-u-pos

Analysis

What is Elaingate? by @praetorqueenreyna

ACOTAR fandom tips by @mathiwrites

Fan events as an archival space by @huntquinlan

Essay on modern ACOTAR fandom by @praetorqueenreyna

It was never about Elain by @sserrafeim

Thoughts on Elaingate by @matrixsss

Is Elain Week for all? by @mathiwrites

Is an event "for all" fans? by @theshadowsingersraven

ACOTAR Rant by @achaotichuman

Reactions to other ships by @toolsofmyenemy

Fandom Event etiquette by @obsessivecompulsivefantasyreader

ACOTAR fandom analysis by @mathiwrites

How Elaingate was avoidable by @herrinarte

A stand against all abuse by @ladyfoxreads

Elaingate Thoughts by @feyres-divorce-lawyer

fanfic detached from canon by @ennawrite

Art is a form of therapy by @mathiwrites

Dark Romance by @bluiela

Dark ships by @pan-withnoplan

Morally correct ships by @olenvasynyt

is banning ships normal? by @olenvasynyt

Other

Tamlain Collage (Tamlin/Elain) by @ennawrite

A poll: who would carry the Tamberon baby? by @huntquinlan

Tamberon Collage (Tamlin/Beron) by @shadowqueenjude

Who did this to you? (Tamlin/Beron) by @yaralulu

Koshchelain is on (Elain/Koschei) by @avabrynne

Elaingate food by @feyres-divorce-lawyer

What are your ACOTAR OTPs? by @mathiwrites

Elain Week Moodboard by @shadowqueenjude

Choose your acotar ship event by @feyres-divorce-lawyer

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 4

Summary: it is time

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  language, sweet Ransom, difficulties with divorce, Scott, difficult conversations, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 8.1K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Ransom,” the man rolls his eyes as Andy walks into his office foyer. Ransom was trying to talk to you, well, you are trying to talk to him about his messages from when he was in court. Of course your annoying boyfriend or whatever he is would come in and interrupt. “I need to speak to your office manager,” you playfully snort, while Ransom’s face falls flat. His eyes narrow at Andy. “Please.”

“I don’t want this to become a habit,” he tells Andy more than you. You aren’t the problem. Andy’s distraction and wandering eyes are the problem. “In fact, I never saw you venture this way much at all unless we needed to discuss a case. And now, you can’t stay away from my part of the office building.”

“It seems a fair trade off since I, the district attorney, come to your office for meetings. If you’d prefer, we can start conducting the meetings on the other side of the building.”

“Five minutes.”

“Ten.”

“Eight,” Ransom counters before Andy gives a nod, and holds out his hand for you. Leave it to Andy to start inserting himself now. You follow him down the long hallway before he’s dragging you into his suite, and on back to his office. His office is more your typical lawyers office, while Ransom’s is immaculate and more ornate. Stark difference between the two best friends, or as they call it, colleagues.

Andy pulls you in for an embrace, in lieu of a kiss. His thick arms wrap around you so tight, and you sink into him. It had been a particularly rough night. Night’s before your babies go to Scott’s for the weekend often are. It’s a pure terror and worry about what could happen, especially given the last time.

“You seem tense,” he says as he pulls back. “Your messages indicate that as well.”

“You’re almost too observant, you know that?” It was his job to be observant, but you aren’t one of his cases.

“And you’re avoiding my question.”

“It wasn’t a question, Andrew, that was a statement,” he sighs, pulling you back into him. Andy starts swaying the two of you to nonexistent music. Resting his face in the crook of your neck. He inhales your sweet scent deeply. If only things concerning Scott weren’t stressful, you could fully enjoy this moment.

“You can trust me to tell me,” he ends his words with a quick kiss on your sensitive skin. This is Andy, you could trust him. He’s not just any man, he’s your Andy. You just fear he’s going to try to fix everything, and unfortunately you didn’t see this being fixed.

“It was a rough night,” he hums, letting you know he is listening, but wants more. “It’s Scott’s weekend, and every time it’s his weekend, I’m left wondering how present he’s going to be. If his stupid bimbo will be there. Will they go against my wishes and she brings her damn cat around my baby? Will he come back home to me, and I have to go through his breathing treatments again? I fear that his apartment isn’t as safe for him. That cat is just one allergy, but what if my baby eats something, and Scott or Taylor don’t react fast enough?”

Your breath is so ragged as you cling to him. When was the last time you had someone just be there? Even if Andy couldn’t fix anything, just having that support is comforting. Scott was there, but was he ever there just for you? Andy doesn’t have to say anything, there’s nothing he can do. But him just being there means everything. Just to have a support system in what feels like years is a relief. Realizing you didn’t have that when you and Scott were together makes you feel stupid. You stayed, and you didn’t have this.

“Doe, I’m sorry,” he doesn’t have to be sorry, but there is a tone in his voice that shows you how sincere he is. “Tell me what you want me to do, and I will.”

“Could we just go to your place?”

“Your place is closer to Scott’s though, isn’t it?” It is. But…, “Wouldn’t it be better to be at your place in case of an emergency? We could get there faster?” True, but you didn’t want him to know that you didn’t sleep in your room. You didn’t care if Andy stayed at your house all weekend, but the embarrassment is already hitting that he’s going to see you avoid going into that room.

“You’re right,” of course he’s right, but your feelings aren’t wrong. They were right, too. Too soon your phone vibrates, and it’s probably Ransom telling you that eight minutes is up, and yes, you know. But you needed this moment, and little talk. Grabbing your phone, you answer it quickly, “Hello?!”

“Mrs. Huffman,” you hate that name with a passion, “Umm, I’m calling because it appears that someone forgot to pick up the kids.”

“What?” Anger laces through your one word question. Today is your late day working. Because you said you could. And Scott forgets the kids?

“Yeah, I know you said that it was Mr. Huffman’s day to get them this morning, but he’s not answering his phone,” you glance up at Andy who is looking at you with so much concern. “Can…”

“I’ll be right there,” she thanks you before you hang up the phone. “Scott didn’t pick up the kids. But…”

“Just bring them back here,” he’s joking. He’s got to be joking. “Listen, it’s Friday, Ransom doesn’t have any cases, and neither do I. We give that to the second ADA. Afterwards if Scott still hasn’t reached out, we’ll go take them to get dinner, and soft play. Audrey seems very concerned with that.”

“Andy…”

“Come on, let’s tell Ransom. You gotta get the kids,” obviously you had to get them. It’s bringing them back here that’s got you a bit paranoid. “It’ll be fine. They’ll be fine. We’ve got a fridge stocked with snacks. While you’re gone I’ll put any snack that Suede is allergic to up in a basket, and out of reach of him. And don’t you dare ask why I’m being nice. You need it. Go on, run and get the kids, I’ll let Ransom know what’s up.”

Standing on your tiptoes, you give him a chaste kiss in thanks before going to get your things, while Andy goes back to Ransom’s part of the office building. His friend and colleague glares at him. “I send you off with my office manager, and you return solo.”

“Scott forgot to pick up the kids,” Ransom groans, “She’s going to get them.”

“Today was her late day.”

“And she’s bringing them back here,” another groan. “Would you quit being so dramatic? They’re good kids. You won’t even notice them.”

“You’re getting involved,” Andy’s mouth curls up into a smile. “I told you not to get involved. This is the very opposite of not getting involved, Andy.”

“What was she supposed to do? He didn’t get her kids, they have to be picked up, it has to be her.”

“That’s not what I mean at all. I would have let her go, I’m not a monster,” he takes a slow calculated breath as he stares at Andy, “She’s the one, hmm? The one that got away. The one that made you never truly connect to other women? The reason that Penny or Melanie or whoever never worked out. You’re doing whatever you have to to make sure that she doesn’t get away again?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Ransom gives Andy one of his famous eye rolls. “I’m not a child. I know her, she knows me. So yeah, things are moving fast-ish. No, we haven’t slept together again. She needs friends. Her family isn’t anywhere near here, and even if she wanted to leave, she has this divorce,” Andy makes it sounds so much simpler than it is. Or maybe it’s because it is exactly this simple.

“Okay, Romeo. I’m just saying. She’s bringing them back here?” Andy smiles, nodding. He has to fix the snacks, and make sure everything is safe for Suede. “I don’t do kids.”

“Send them to my office if you have to,” Ransom was all bark, and no bite. He had no doubt that everything would be fine. And you wouldn’t be put in a bind. Yet, another thing you can add to your growing list of why Scott didn’t deserve full custody of your children.

Andy leans into Ransom’s waiting area, smiling to himself as you hold a slowly drifting asleep Suede in your lap. His face squished up against your chest while you type, and Audrey colors something on the floor. Laying on her belly with her tongue sticking out, and her knees kicking around. Andy clears his throat, and Audrey looks up at him with the biggest grin, “Andy! I wanted to see you.”

She leaves her coloring book behind as she jumps up from the floor and walks over to him, and Suede’s eyes burst open, “Na Na! Peas?” You can’t hide how happy you are for their excitement. Suede wiggles out of your arms, and Andy picks both kids up, and you gulp. Scott never quite gave you the tingling millions of butterflies in your belly just to see him hold onto your kids.

You aren’t sure how something can be both wholesome and sexy all at the same time. But the way his thick arms flex as he holds them has you feeling things, and the way he smiles at them has those butterfly wings flapping aggressively in your belly. Moments like these are so sweet and simple, and mean the world to you.

The way he gives each one attention, and not just your talkative girl. Asking them how their day was, and listening intently to every nonsensical word, and um that comes out of your baby boy’s mouth. He isn’t even looking at you for approval, he’s just being a normal father figure to them kids. This is how greetings with them after their day should be. When Audrey tries to interrupt, he tells her to wait her turn, looking at you to make sure it’s okay to correct her behavior and you nod. You hope that this isn’t an act, and you don’t feel it is. It’s natural.

How is it that a man that had no biological ties to these children can appreciate them more than their father? Scott wasn’t a terrible husband, when it was just the two of you. But his lack of involvement as a father was laughable. You were the woman, you were the one that took care of the house, and the children. All you wanted was a partner. Staring at Andy now makes you realize how wrong you chose, and just how long you made excuses for Scott.

“Andy,” Audrey finally gets his attention when Suede finishes. “If daddy doesn’t pick us up tonight, can you go eat with us? Mommy said we can eat at the pizza place, and and and go to soft play.”

Andy smiles. He starts to answer, but is distracted by a chubby little hand laying flat on his beard, and he turns to look at Suede, “Chess, pease,” you turn around quickly. You promised yourself that you’d never let your children see your emotions, but your chest fills with so much warmth and love. Feeling everything all at once. Suede only touched two people’s cheeks like that, and both you and Audrey are present. It’s like he has chosen another comfort.

You were told it could be a way for him to show comfortability and vulnerability, but he never did that with his dad. He never stayed in his dad’s arms for more than a few minutes before he was trying to reach towards you. Visiting Scott was the hardest on Suede. “Doe?”

“I’ve got to take something to Ransom. I’ll be back,” you grab some stupid piece of paper, and retreat from this. Trying to work through the emotions. On one hand you are a bit jealous that Suede found comfort in someone that isn’t you. On the other hand he had a man in his life that he trusts, and it is Andy. Your Andy.

“I need a snack.”

“Chess!”

“How does broccoli and ranch sound?” Audrey curls her lip, and Suede shakes his head no. “Well, I have you to know, that Sloane went and brought you back some safe food. And even apples.”

“Mmm, Appies!”

“With sun butter?” Andy nods, carrying the two of them to the break room. He looks back at you, and your back is still turned to him, still looking at a blank piece of paper, still bothered by something that transpired, and he can’t think of what. However, the kids were hungry, and they had to eat. He’ll come back and ask you about this later.

“Come on, it’s snack time, and then,” he lowers his voice, making it only audible for just Audrey and Suede, “I hear there’s a book about a little French girl in Sloane’s desk, you should ask her for it,” Audrey covers her mouth with her hand, giggling while she looks at Suede.

They sound so happy. You didn’t ask or beg Andy to spend time with them, he came to see them. He made sure that the unsafe foods were away from Suede. He was telling them secrets about the office. If you didn’t already have feelings for Andy that bordered on love — you’d have them now. You hated to admit that you still harbored feelings for him, but you did. And moments like these just made that blossom and get bigger until parts of you that felt so alone and hopeless, now feel like there was light at the end of the tunnel.

There was a hope that not only did your children not have to suffer, but you didn’t either. The feeling is like a hug. Simple, warm, loving, comforting, and the best thing in the world. It’s what a family should be, and should feel. Everyday is a new realization that you didn’t have these moments with your family.

“What are you doing?” Ransom asks, attempting to walk out of the door. “I don’t do tears.”

“It’s nothing.”

He blows out an exasperated puff of air. “Nothing doesn’t make you look so — weepy,” his voice is so flat, seemingly disinterested. “But if I can offer you some advice, you should trust him,” you furrow your brows as you look at him. There’s this part of you that doesn’t want to interrupt Andy and the kids, but you want to watch them. “He’s always wanted a family, and from the sounds of it, you’re the only woman he wanted it with. He doesn’t want to fuck it up, so he won’t. So let your walls down, and enjoy the moments. You’re used to his stubbornness and protectiveness, so…”

His voice trails off. He didn’t need to finish the sentence. So he won’t change. So there’s his flaw. So you’ll have to continue to deal with it. So now there’s little people for him to protect. “Oh, and Ray agreed to take your case,” that gets your attention. You straighten up. Ray would make a huge difference for you. Scott even mentioned Ray a few times during your marriage. “So…I don’t know, go make sure Barber isn’t poisoning the allergic one.”

That’s about as soft as you are going to get with Ransom, and you know it. But a quick little break to make sure ‘the allergic one’ is not being fed something he shouldn’t have, would not hurt. Ransom meant well, and you’re so thankful for him. But not as thankful as Audrey jumping up and down at Andy’s feet, while he holds Suede, squinting as he reads the ingredients on the back of a box.

“It’s a safe food,” you answer softly, and he lowers the packet of fruit snacks to Audrey. Suede gives him a little pout, but Andy is quick to grab his own pack, and open it for him.

“Go ask Sloane for her book,” he tells the two of them before they run off, and you immediately circle your arms around his waist. You couldn’t help a hug, and a quick peck to his lips, “What’s this for?”

“For being you,” his lips turn up in a smile, and he reminds you of the way he looked when he was younger. There were more freckles that dotted over his nose, and more wrinkles around his eyes. He is thicker in the best way, a luscious full beard, but the best parts of him are still the same. “I’m serious. You’re amazing with them, and I thank you for learning.”

“You gave Sloane a list of safe foods, didn’t you?” Nodding you stand on your tippy toes for another too quick kiss. Seeing him reading the back of that box was oddly sexy. You don’t regret not telling him that Sloane made a quick trip to the store, and you need to pay her for that. You could look at this man reading the ingredients daily because it was…breathtaking. The older you get, the more things of attractiveness changes. This wasn’t one you saw happening until it did.

“No word from Scott?”

“No. I’m sure he’s in court or something. I get used to not relying on him,” Andy searches your face, contemplating how to respond to that. You shouldn’t have to be used to it. That shouldn’t be normal. “It’s fine.”

“How often was it just you and the kids waiting on him?” You shrug. You didn’t want this conversation. You didn’t want to dwell in the past. Didn’t want to think of how much you let things slide with Scott because you felt you needed to make your marriage work, and he was still the one that stepped out on your family.

“I should really make sure the kids are okay,” if Andy could wrap you in a tight cocoon and make you see what you deserved, he would. He wants you to see your value to his life because to him you and the kids were not a burden. You know you’re a good mom, but did you know you are a good partner?

“I’m going to guess we’ll have the kids for dinner though,” we. He loves hearing you say we, especially when they’re involved. If he could fully take Scott out of the equation, he would. Not only did he not deserve them, or your kindness, Andy didn’t mind having them always around.

He definitely didn’t mind people making comments about what a beautiful family he had. Or even that his son looked just like him, and how he’s so good with them. He didn’t want to correct them. People never questioned it because that’s exactly what you were becoming. He knows he should slow down, and not get too attached or ahead of himself. Not growing up with a father himself, he’s always craved a son where he could be the dad that he wanted.

He sighs, it would only be a matter of time before Scott completely lost interest. Men like him only wanted to use the kids as a weapon for you. He was using custody as a way for you to worry. Asserting his dominance wherever he could. Prick. He’s an asshole. He just hopes that Scott sees who has been spending time with his kids, and just how happy they are, and their mama.

—

Ransom slumps down into his chair, hands reaching towards a file on his desk when he hears tittering, and he bends at his waist to look under his desk, “What are you doing down there?”

Audrey giggles, popping another fruit chew in her mouth, and then a third hand points at the book that’s in her lap. Suede peeks his body around his sister’s smiling up at the man, “I’m not doing a very good job at reading. There’s lots of words.”

“Chess.”

Ransom smiles, nodding his head, “You like to play chess?”

“No no, that um — that’s how he says yes. He says it a lot. It’s easy for him. Tell him Suedey.”

“Chess,” his hand presses over his mouth and he giggles, having to sit up and hold his tummy with how much he is laughing. They are cute kids, even if Ransom doesn’t do kids.

“See, mister. He loves it. Do you think you can read this book for us,” the barely visible smile on Ransom’s face fades, and his head slightly shakes no, “I can’t read, and my mommy is working, and,” she crawls out from under the desk, laying the book on the shiny wood of Ransom’s ostentatious desk.

“Do you think mommy can take us to Paris one day?” Audrey places a hand under the desk, helping her brother up, and Suede places two arms up to Ransom. “He wants you to hold him. You can say no,” Ransom takes a moment to ponder before lifting the toddler up into his lap, but Audrey stands beside him, opening up the book to the first page.

“It has a lot of words,” her finger drags under the words, and Ransom stares at her curiously. Even though she is tiny, you can see her squinting, and sounding out a few of the letters. Reminds him of his childhood, a boy too young, forced to be above children his age academically. “Would Andy take us to Paris with mommy?”

How is he even supposed to answer that? He could put a bug in Andy’s ear that she wants to go to Paris. He could ask Andy to take her to a French restaurant, but he can’t possibly say that he would take them and their mom. “Do you like Andy?”

“Chess.”

“Uh huh. Mommy smiles when he’s around,” the little girl turns to look at Ransom, and he’s shocked by how much she looks like you, especially in the eyes. The exact shape, and even the different flecks of colors. “Is Andy like Taylor is to daddy?”

“I don’t know what that means,” he turns his head to see the little boy smiling at him. He lifts his chunky little hand, and slightly touches his cheek before moving it back down to his lap and giggles at Ransom. “What do you mean by your question?”

“I think Andy wants to kiss mommy,” it is a simple enough sentence that holds a lot more weight than she realizes. Ransom smiles, shrugging at her. “She didn’t smile with daddy like she does with Andy,” Audrey turns to look at Ransom, smiling at him, and then her brother. “I like him, too. But can you read this?” Her little chubby finger taps on the book a bit aggressively, “I’m sorry, booky. Please, Ansom?”

“Ransom.”

“I said that.”

“Ann!” Suede throws both arms in the hair, and giggles. “Ann!”

“Is he always like this?” Audrey covers her hand with her mouth, giggling again, and she nods. “Fine. Let’s read the Paris book,” he clears his throat, making both kids giggle once more. “In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines.”

“Ran,” opening the door, you stop abruptly, and all three of them look up at you. “Oh, I was wondering where you two were. Come on, we should leave Ransom alone,” all three pout. Even Ransom, confusing you immensely. He told you he didn’t do kids. He didn’t hate them, but didn’t want to be around them. And now he’s reading to them with Suede and his sticky fingers in his lap.

“They're fine. Maybe bring some popcorn in here or something?” Audrey shakes her head no. “Why not?”

“We’ll choke,” she deadpans. “Those scratchy things in the middle. Andy buys us the puffy ones, so we don’t have to worry about choking.”

“Does he? That Andy sure does try to make life easier,” clearing your throat, Ransom looks up at you smiling. “We’re reading about the Paris girl. I think Audrey and Suede deserve macarons.”

“Suede can’t. There’s eggs,” Audrey beat you to it. She is his little keeper, and so protective of him. You are sure she keeps Scott in line with him, even if it isn’t her job. “Mommy, did daddy call?” You shake your head no, thinking she’s going to be sad. “Oh yay! So Andy is taking us to pizza and soft play for sure?”

“We’ll see. Read your Paris girl book. It won’t be long until it’s leaving time. And behave. You want me to leave the door open, Ransom?” He shakes his head, and shoos you out the door. You did not see this happening. Ransom said he didn’t care much for kids, and here he is being all sweet and loving with yours. You wouldn’t tell him, but it suited him, even if it was just as the fun uncle that could give them back at the end of the day.

Even though Scott brought you out here away from your friends and family, you feel the need to give him a quick and silent thank you. It brought you to Andy, and now it appears you are growing an inner circle. People to rely on. People you can trust with your kids. People that don’t look at them like a burden. People that cared. What felt like your world had ended, just ensured a new start that you needed.

“Suede,” your little boy quickly sits down in his seat, offering a sweet smile to Andy. He had already been told once not to stand up in the seat. Andy’s voice is soft, but stern enough that Suede knows he needs to keep his bottom in the seat. “Thank you.”

“Chess,” he holds up his hand out for Andy who fists bumps him in return. Blinking his eyes hard at him before smiling up at you. Leaning in for a hug.

“Was your dinner good, buddy?”

“Chess,” Andy questioned you with the pizza at first, until you told him about this place that was very accommodating for Suede’s allergies. Suede turns to look at Andy, but his eyes go upwards instead. A moment of unease flashes in his eyes, and he leans into your body, “Mama, no.”

Following his eyesight, you catch Scott freeze, seeing the back of Andy’s head, and Audrey sitting beside him. He never looks like he's in a good mood, but now he’s completely unsavory. “What’s going on?”

“Daddy,” Audrey looks at you, and then up at Andy, her happy face now looking sad. “Uhh, Andy is taking us to soft play.”

“Daddy is really tired, and they’re closed. I need to talk with you outside,” he gives a point towards you. Of course he needs to talk to you. Showing up unannounced, and Andy is with you. His nostrils flare a moment with the impending anger that’s lighting up his face. Talk really means he wants to berate you.

“It’s not closed, we saw it. Andy said…”

“Audrey,” while he doesn’t yell, his voice raises, and you grit your teeth. Friday night, and they were looking forward to fun. Leave it to Scott to be a disappointment. Again. Wiping your hands on your napkin, you grab up Suede, handing him over to Andy.

“What the hell are you doing?” Scott turns to look at you as Andy pulls Suede out of your arms. It is becoming harder and harder not to want to scream at him, especially when he uses foul language in front of the children.

“You wanted to talk to me. So Andy can stay with the kids,” the man that has spent every single evening with you and the kids, stares up at you. His free hand rubs up your thigh, and he offers a sad smile, “I’ll be right back,” and his eyes move over to Scott, nodding his hey.

Oh he’s angry. Not nearly as angry as you are for his five hour late pickup. Didn’t even tell you he was coming, just showed up. You can see how angry he is as you follow him to the parking lot. You don’t like to compare the two, but Andy would never deny fun for the kids. He had a long tiring day as well.

You’re barely out of the restaurant when Scott rounds towards you, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Feeding our children dinner since you were late.”

“I was working, and you know exactly what I mean,” you blink slowly. If he wants to say something, he can, but you won’t be offering up any information. “Fucking Andy Barber? The damn DA, is this some competition,” you scoff, there was never a competition. “And you left our kids with him.”

“So you wanted them to hear you talk like this to me?” Scott sighs. You knew he wouldn’t answer the question. You’re always the one that is wrong, while he’s always the one that is wronged in some way. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You sure did move on fast?” You laugh at him, shaking your head as you turn to walk back inside. The audacity. He was moving on and the two of you were very much together. You didn’t have a say in the matter when he was laying underneath the damn babysitter. “Did you ever love me?”

“You were the one that cheated, Scott. You came home early, so you could fuck our babysitter in our bed. Did you even think about me? Or about how our daughter would feel? Suede is too young to understand, but Audrey knows you left her mom to be with the babysitter. Love was never our strong suit though, was it?” The stronger your love for Andy grows, the more you realized Scott and you had been going through the motions. Was there ever any love?

Rolling your eyes, you turn away from him. If this is the only conversation he wants to have, it’s useless. You’re doing nothing wrong. You hadn’t even slept with Andy since that first night. And even if you did, you two were legally separated and going through a divorce. “Suede could be older and still wouldn’t understand.”

“What did you say?” don’t turn around, and don’t look at him. He makes you sick.

“You heard me,” no, you’re not quite you did.

“And what do you mean by that?”

“He’s never going to be as advanced as Audrey,” if it wouldn’t hurt your case for custody, you’d claw his eyes out. If he wants to blame you for the marriage failing, you don't care, but to say one damn thing about your child is another thing. “You coddle him.”

“I hate you,” always your fault. Suede’s ‘delays’ as Scott called them, will forever be your fault. He was supposed to be his ‘boy’ and now he looks at your son like he’s a mistake. A failure. And he’s two.

“Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart. Now let me get my kids from your dildo.”

“Why are you so mean to him? Why do you put so much pressure on your son? He’s a baby.”

“No, he’s not,” you have to look at him now. You need to understand why he can’t just be happy with who Suede is, instead of trying to make him who he wants him to be.

“He just turned two. He is a baby. He wears diapers, his vocabulary is improving, but he is a baby. If you — if you don’t want him why do you insist on full custody? Why do you rip him out of my arms, crying, if you don’t want him? You don’t even like him. I’m not even sure you like Audrey. This a damn power grab, you’re using my babies as a weapon to hurt me. Just leave him with me and…”

“Go on, say it. Andy. Is he enjoying the bed that I fucked that baby boy in you in? You want to act like he’s so fucking grand. Sloppy damn seconds,” you take a deep breath in, wondering how he views you as sloppy seconds but not himself. Or even if Taylor is someone’s sloppy seconds. Pig. “Just trying to replace me because I left you. You even went after a goddamn lawyer,” of course he’d hit you with low blows, and as much as it infuriates you, it hurts more how he is with your baby.

“Answer the questions. You’re changing the subject, and I’m talking about our son. If you don’t want my baby, and he’s so difficult with his allergies, and his separation anxiety, then leave him with his mom!”

“You created a monster! Taylor can’t even deal with him most of the time because all he says is ‘chess’ or ‘my mama at’. Separation anxiety? No, you baby the boy, and made him rely on you so you think it’ll give you a leg to stand on with custody. Audrey was never that difficult, hell she was potty trained at his age. She’s starting to read now. And he’s…”

“He’s a fucking baby, Scott! Just let him stay with me, please!” You’re not above begging when it comes to your children, especially if Scott is getting them when he’s angry.

“No. Because if he stays with you then Audrey — you know how she is with her brother. They don’t like to be separated,” it’s always about the easy child. His pride and joy. The one he whispered to her about how she would become a lawyer someday. Another thing that annoyed you, pressure on a four year old. “They both are coming with me, as per our agreement. So let me get my kids.”

“Can you at least take them to the soft play, and trampolines for thirty minutes?”

“What is the damn deal with soft play? That’s all they ever want to do.”

“Because they’re kids, and they have fun! They want to play with their dad, is that such a wrong thing?” You turn into the restaurant, watching Andy calmly talk to your world. Such a beautiful picture in contrast to what their parents are doing outside. Suede lifts his chubby little hand, and holds it against Andy’s cheek, petting his beard. He waits until Andy smiles at him before pulling it away, and he snuggles into his chest. That was a father’s love. Not whatever the hell Scott is doing.

Despite what Scott wants to imply, there’s nothing wrong with Suede. His learning is delayed compared to Audrey’s, but from his doctors to his teachers, he is just a normal little boy. There’s a sadness that wraps around you knowing that Suede has more comfort with Andy than his own father. A man he’s known his whole life is nothing compared to the man that he barely knows.

“Does Andy play with them?” you look at Scott, and for the first time in a long time, there’s a sadness in his eyes, but it flares back into his competitive composure. If he is so concerned with Andy and the kids, he’s the only one that can fix it. It wasn’t Andy’s problem.

“We both do,” you answer solemnly before opening the door to the restaurant. You aren’t going to listen to him bully you or speak ill of his son anymore. You want him to suffer with the reality that his son is already replacing him with a man that is paying attention to him. You and Andy hadn’t been doing, whatever this is, long, and already Suede treated him like his father.

“Come on,” you try to smile as you reach for Suede. “It’s time to go to daddy’s house.”

“Mama, no,” this is the part that breaks you every time. Hearing him beg you not to make him go to his dad’s grinds your soul in half. You hate thinking that he may blame you, may think you’ve abandoned him. So instead, you just don’t look into his eyes.

“Audrey, grab your coloring sheet if you want to,” she reaches for her sheet as you grab up Suede, and she and Andy scoot out of the booth. Andy has never been part of a switch between you and Scott. It’s also why you preferred he picked them up from daycare. The extra hours with you made things difficult for them to leave. It’s him leaving you that seems to be the issue.

“Mama, no,” you can’t even meet his eyes as he touches your cheek. You know Scott didn’t hurt Suede. You also know he didn’t enjoy him or appreciate him, and with Audrey it is nonstop pressure to read, and write, and whatever thing he felt like she needed to be ahead for. Audrey has to be the best academically, and judging by the earlier conversation, he has no faith in Suede.

“Mama, pease!” He sniffles, cuddling into your chest, and you kiss on top of his head. Bit by bit part of your heart crumbles. The part that you gave your children, and it’s every other weekend. Audrey grabs Andy’s hand as you walk back outside. Getting an eye roll from Scott as soon as he sees Andy with his prized possession. His daughter. “Mama, no,” the first sign of his cries, broken words. “Me tay.”

“It’s stay, Suede. And you can’t stay because it’s my weekend,” Suede screams as Scott pulls at his body. Trying to take him from you. “Suede, enough!” He pulls harder, and his voice reaches a screeching high, shattering that part of your heart as his body shivers from anguish.

“Mommy will get you Sunday.”

“You’re only making this worse,” you hate him, and it has nothing to do with what he did to you, it’s what he’s doing to your children. “Suede, you’re fine,” you bite your tongue, holding back your own tears as he kicks. Thrashing around while Scott buckles him in, and one name on his lips. Mama. Over and over it tugs at your heart. Your baby needs you, and you can’t comfort him without causing more of a scene.

It’s one of the hardest things that you have to do. Ignoring him because it can get worse. You kneel down in front of Audrey, and she jumps into your arms giving you the biggest hug, “Will you make sure that Suedey is okay when you get in the car?”

“Yes, mommy. I’m sorry.”

“Baby, it’s okay. I’ll see you Sunday before supper, okay?” Audrey nods before she walks to her side of the car, getting in her seat herself, but Scott goes to buckle her. She extends a hand over to her crying brother, and more pieces of your heart break.

“Can you text or call and let me know when he calms down?”

“Yeah,” Scott answers shortly, closing Audrey’s door before he goes to the driver’s side. “Guess we can’t go to soft play with a baby that won’t stop crying,” bastard. Blaming Scott’s mistakes on Suede.

“I’ll take them Sunday,” Scott glares at Andy, and you are just numb. The teachers told you that while Suede was sad when his dad picked him up, there was no crying. You hate him for making you hear this. “Doe, let’s go.”

You’re not a person that wants to get even very often, but if you could make him feel like you did right now, you would. And if it is the fact that Andy already said he’d take them out Sunday after pickup that makes Scott hurt, so be it. It kills you to hear his muffled cries still. The fact that he had a good day, and evening, only for it to end with him in so much turmoil only hurts worse. You give a silent prayer that he can soothe himself soon. Scott never liked long crying sessions. He wasn’t patient enough to handle it.

“Your place or mine?”

“I don’t care as long as you hold me,” he opens up your car door, and you jump in, finally letting your tears cascade over your cheeks. You’re thankful you thought to leave Andy’s car at the house because you wouldn’t be able to drive right now. Everything in your body aches. Your his mother, and you couldn’t hold him until his tears stop. He is crying for you, and you have to walk away from him.

“He’s so mean to my baby. I don’t know if he hates him or if he’s ashamed of him,” you suck in a ragged breath, trying to calm your tears. “Suede’s always had health issues. He was born too early, it was a difficult pregnancy, his allergies were caught before he was a year old, now they’re talking about his vision, but he’s just a baby. And he’s usually so happy and full of light, but I think Suede knows that Scott doesn’t love him like he loves Audrey. Why are my kids the ones that have to suffer?”

“Audrey soothes Suede, but she’s a baby herself. She shouldn’t have to. They don’t have fun with their dad. And I don’t know how I could have been so wrong in a father for them. I just — I don’t care about me anymore, I just want them to be okay, and I fear that Suede is just forgotten there. A mistake,” god you hate reliving that day. That moment when that asshole murmured he was a mistake.

“What?” Andy’s voice is so hard. It’s a dangerous timbre.

“He said that Suede was a mistake,” you rest your head on the back of the seat. “It was that day that whatever I felt towards Scott was completely erased. I hated him and it took four words for me to hate him. My kids aren’t mistakes. They’re my everything, and if I have to feel this gut wrenching pain, so they don’t have to, I don’t care anymore. I’ll deal with Scott, but that — that is so hard to deal with, and it makes me feel so small every time because I can’t fix it.”

His hands grip onto the steering wheel too tight. His eyes staring out onto the road before taking a deep breath. He removes a hand, and places it on your thigh. You don’t smile, but you pick up his hand and hold it with both of yours. Weaving your delicate fingers in his, while your right hand clings to his so tightly. He didn’t have to say anything, but you know he’s offering to be your strength.

“I’m tired of this constant fight, and this constant fear that my baby is going to be forgotten, and neglected, and do you know what happens to unattended children? They get into things. Certain things he can get into could kill him,” your breath stutters in your throat. “I don’t think that they let them use the phone to call me as much as they want. It’s just another way to separate us. I call every day. Multiple times a day. Scott maybe calls every other day..”

Lifting up his hand, he kisses over your knuckles. “I just wish I could talk to them before bed, so I knew that they were going to sleep without tears in their eyes,” he kisses your knuckles again as you pull into the driveway. Another long weekend, but this time you didn’t have to spend it alone. Even a little bit of a distraction will help.

“Thank you,” your voice is so hoarse as Andy gets out of the car. He opens your door, undoes your buckle, and lifts you up into his arms. Letting you koala around him as he carries you into the house. It’s the most comforting gesture. Days like this walking is difficult, and he takes that responsibility from you. His comfort couldn’t change anything, but it can give you comfort and support when you just want to stare at nothing.

“I want you in something comfortable in five minutes, and then we’re going to be lazy on the couch the rest of the evening. Audrey told me she was sad because she wanted a slumber party with me, you, Suede, and Ann,” he smirks as you lift your head off his shoulder. Of course he’d get a kick out of Audrey asking him to spend the night.

“Ann?”

“I think that’s what they’ve decided to call Ransom. Go on. Get comfy. I’m just wearing sweatpants, and a t-shirt,” perfect clothes to cuddle him in. Your eyes get heavy just thinking about it. Drop offs like that are draining, and you want to sleep until you get to see them again.

“Old and worn in?”

“It’s the only way to wear it. Go on,” reluctantly you walk away from him. Opening up your bedroom door, and freeze. It’s the same time every time. That stupid blonde girl with her hands firmly on your husband’s chest while her body sucks him into her. No condom. You thought you had been seeing things, but he confirmed it. No condom. And lucky for him, he didn’t transfer anything to you.

So many things you couldn’t forgive him for. He is selfish. He’s disgusting. And you hate him. You hate that he’s the one that is in your kids’ life, and you don’t even know if there will ever be a time that you don’t hate him. You sigh as those thick arms wrap around your waist, and you lean your head back on his shoulder.

“It’s where you caught them,” Andy doesn’t ask, but you nod your head. You hate coming into this room. Everything about it reminds you of that day. He lit candles. There was soft music. And he was staring up at her like she was a goddess. His hands gripped her hips so tightly. Did he ever look at you liked that?

Andy’s lips pepper kisses down your jaw. “When was the last time you slept in here?”

“The night before it happened,” he lets you go. Starting to pull off the clothes from the day. His fingers glide over your skin like the strokes of a paintbrush. Getting you completely naked before he bends down, and pulls out his shirt from the day, and slips it on you.

“Grab you some panties, or don’t,” there’s something so solid in his voice as he walks over to the bed, and yanks off the duvet. Tossing pillows to the side of it. Ripping at every linen that you split tears on as you made the bed one last time. Ending with a pile of bedding, and then he grunts, pulling the mattress off to the side.

“We’re going bed shopping this weekend,” you gasp as you look at him. “Either we get you a new fucking bed, or we buy a house. What do you want to do?”

Kiss him. Make love with him. Why was getting rid of the bed so simple? That makes perfect sense to remove the bed. “Andy, I…”

“I already told you I was going to marry you. And when I do, I won’t be living in this house. But temporarily I need you to sleep in a bed. So, are we going bed shopping or buying a house this weekend?”

“Bed.”

“There’s my girl,” he grins, and you take a few steps to close the gap between you. Wrapping yourself into his warmth. “When you can’t do that anymore, I will be there. I hated that, and I can’t imagine what you’re going through. He’s a callous man, but he won’t win. I may only be a step dad to them, but,” he stutters. Pulling you even closer to him. “I love them, just like I love you. I will fight for both of you, and I understand court order. So I have to be productive where I can. And this is where I start, making sure you get good sleep.”

“Thank you,” you whimper, and he lets you melt into him. Soaking up his scent, and his strength. You needed him, not as another parent, but him. Just to be with you. “I love you, too.”

You let all those walls tumble down because you can’t continue to keep them up. You are one person, and you’re tired of fighting, and this isn’t a fight that was worth it. Why can you not love Andy? Why should you not just let him in, and trust him the way that you did Scott? Because being strong for your kids was making your other walls weaker. Instead of putting up boundaries from Andy, you want him inside your walls as added protection.

“We’ll buy a bed,” you laugh. It’s silly, but it’s freeing. Freeing to admit to yourself and to Andy you love him. You want him, and you don’t have to pretend anymore.

“And a dog.”

“No.”

“There’s dogs that detect allergies.”

“No.”

“Fine, when we buy us a house that we both, and the kids adore, and it has extra space just in case,” you look up at him and how adorable he is with his hope. You couldn’t have kids, but you wish you could give Andy at least one biological child. “We’ll buy a house. After the divorce. Deal?”

“You got a deal.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

Toxic ex-husband!txt

Warnings: toxic, possessive, erratic behaviour, do not try this at home

Note: I feel diabolical for writing this

Soobin

Soobin is ushered out of a different exit of the courthouse than you, but his long legs make quick work of rounding the building—he’d seen your lawyer steering you out a back door. He finds you just as you reach your car, in such a passion that he doesn't notice the way you jump at the sound of his voice. You just sat through an hour of feeling his eyes on you as your divorce was finalised, kept your nerve and avoided looking his way, and you didn't have the nerve to face him now. His mind flashes with glimpses of the past, before you went through this silly charade of separation. All the happy times you’d had, all those years of love. His heart felt sour in his chest.

"You don't mean it, I know you don't," he calls out to you as he approaches. You're quick to shut yourself inside your car and lock the doors, scrambling to put the key in the ignition as his hands press against the window. "I know you'll miss me," he insists, somehow still not understanding the reality of the situation even after the year-long divorce process. "You won't last a day in that house without me." He walks mindlessly in the wake of the car as you drive away, anger flaring. He won't give you up.

Yeonjun

He dons a hoodie and sits in the back of the dark bar you're having a first date in. It wasn't hard to get access to the time and location of this little rendezvous, since the password for your new dating profile is the same one you use for everything else. He watches you flirt and make small talk, smile stupidly at this new love interest, who in Yeonjun's opinion is definitely trying way too hard. And yes, he's noticed that you're wearing his favourite dress, the one that he bought for you, that you would wear to every date night the two of you shared. He grits his teeth so hard he can hear the strain on them, downing the last of the drink he ordered to keep his table and slipping out. When you finally make it back to the parking lot, he's leant up against your car, hood off and face smug in the dim artificial light.

"Hey, baby," he says smugly, causing you to shiver. You haven't heard his voice in so long, and the pet name...

"What are you doing here? You know it's over," you keep your tone confident while looking around nervously. "You should be moving on, like I have."

He takes a few steps closer to you. "You know why you like that guy so much?" Yeonjun asks, leaning his face close to your ear and taking a whiff of an in-breath before whispering, "he's wearing my cologne."

Beomgyu

You're about to turn out the light and go to sleep when a loud knocking startles you, bringing you back downstairs. Carefully you look out the peep hole and see Beomgyu, cursing to yourself before opening the door with the plan to give him an earful. But when the door swings open, his eyes look frantic, and he lets out a sigh, shoulders sagging as if relieved. "Oh thank god," he says, before stepping around you into the house and looking around the room.

"Beomgyu, no. You have to go," you say sternly. He turns to face you and his distressed look is still at play. "I saw- There was someone creeping around out there," he explains excitedly, eyes wide. "They were right on the lawn!”

Panicked, you turn your gaze to the window. Before you know it he's grabbing you, pulling you against his chest. "I was so worried." You can feel his heart hammering against you, no evidence to be suspicious of his story. Your own heart rate picks up, and you almost feel comforted that Beomgyu is here, that someone was looking out for you. "I'll keep you safe. Let me stay, just for tonight."

Taehyun

Taehyun never thought he would stoop to this level, but hey, the tracking program was on sale—it was as if the universe was telling him he was meant to do it. He doesn't know how long he's been awake, staring at his computer screen, at the red dot that represents your phone's location. He did wash a few dishes earlier, but he had intermittently looked over at his phone where the same red dot shone unblinking back at him. It hasn't moved for hours, and he begins to wonder if he's been scammed, if maybe he should have gone for the device that he could attach to your car... Taehyun feels like the little red dot is mocking him, and he almost wants it to move from the square that depicts your house. Antsy and frustrated, he turns on the TV. But even while he distractedly watches some sporting match, he sees red.

Huening Kai

You hear your mother talking as you let yourself in to her house, your childhood home, for one of your weekly dinners together. There were no cars parked on the street, so you figure she's on the phone with one of her friends as she laughs heartily. You can't help but smile at how happy she sounds as you leave your shoes at the door. When you round the corner into the kitchen, the smile dies on your face. Standing there, oven mitts in hand, chuckling along with your mother, is your ex husband. It's as if the last eight months never happened and all is nice and peachy, just another Tuesday night and not the twilight zone.

Huening Kai spots you in the doorway and gives you a smile, your mother turning around looking bubbly and bright. "Here she is! Look who stopped in," she says, as if you haven't noticed the big elephant in the room.

"Why?" you ask with no semblance of friendliness.

She flicks the tea towel your way as if scolding you, looking simply incredulous. "Be nice to our guest! He brought dessert."

You feel like you're being pranked. She's always been on your side of things, though she would never speak badly of her ex son-in-law, and suddenly she's wrapped around his little finger? Have you missed something, you wonder.

The oven dings and the two exchange excited looks, seemingly ignoring your presence. Kai slips his hands into the mitts and opens the door, retrieving a sweet smelling pie. Your mother claps her hands, childlike, and moves off to find cutlery. Surely you must be dreaming, because this is too much. Kai holds the dessert out for you to see, smiling down at you with bright innocent eyes, tilting his head the way he used to when he addressed you. "Would you like to taste, honey?"

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

[1800naveen]

My appreciation.

September 2023, I started the "a court of thorns and roses" series. Booktok got me hyped to read it so when I did, I really enjoyed it. (I fell victim to liking Rhysand and the inner circle, forgive me)

Feyre, Tamlin, and Lucien were my favorite characters. Their dynamic, how their relationship grew, I loved it all. (I was also a hater of Nesta but I changed now, my mind opened.)

I also saw spoilers on Tik Tok about acomaf and Rhysand which put me into a slump and I didn't continue reading the series again until April 2024. Yeah, it was that bad.

Finding out that people hated Tamlin for his later actions got me bummed because I really liked him at the time. I got spoiled for the rest of the series but I don't really care for spoilers that much.

During my slump, I made an account on Tumblr. I mostly liked posts but I would comment at times. I was afraid of making a post because I was just nervous.

I still had love for Tamlin so I avoided the Acotar side of Tumblr for a while. Because what if someone came after for my thoughts or opinions? That scared me. I felt somewhat alone when it came to not hating Tamlin or seeing him as a "villain" (he's more morally grey). I also still didn't like Rhysand because of the whole under the mountain thing which weirded me out.

Then one faithful day, I was looking through the Bryce Quinlan tag after finding out about her when I saw this post (it was about the crossover) and it was the first anti Rhysand post I liked.

And I clicked on the anti Rhysand tag and my third eye opened. When it came to booktok, I thought that hating this man was some sort of taboo.

These guys showed his wrongdoings, went on analysis, how he was toxic, how he treated certain characters, etc. Thanks to them, I was right to feel what I felt about him. He fucking sucks.

I then went on the pro Tamlin tag and I had finally found my people. Ones that shared the same thoughts as I did when it came to Tamlin and it gave me inspiration to make my first post on here.

(And the rest was history...) *cue the clapping*

Nah but seriously, I want to give my appreciation to the Tamlin, Nesta, Lucien, and Eris fans, the anti Rhysand people, the inner circle haters, and the people who just hate this series in general. I'm grateful for finding a community where I fit right in and where I won't get burned at the stake for my opinion (most of the time). I actually made friends on here which is great because I usually suck at making friends (Me and Tamlin twinning, can't make friends for shit) so this is great.

TIME FOR THE TAGS!!!

Giving my appreciation to the people who inspired me to become the blog that I am today: @szalonykasztan00, @copypastus (love your art❤), @shi-daisy, @arson-09, @thrumbolt, @achaotichuman, and @feyres-divorce-lawyer (so glad that I found you on tik tok first, a fellow Rhysand hater).

My mutuals where we are united by both love and hate: @sonics-atelier (thanks for making those analysis posts), @wingsdippedingold, @rin-u-pos, @positivelyruined (bless you for the Luke Eisner fancast🙏🏾), @nickel156, @viktoriaashleyyx, @thatapologisttoyourantis.

And those who I first found out on tik tok and then found them again on Tumblr (some are mutuals, some aren't and the first two I found out there asoiaf tik toks): @watcherintheweyr, @kataraavatara, @booksnwriting.

Yuh, that's about it. Just wanted to make something nice and sweet. Thanks to my 107 followers that I got for mostly being a hater or from other stuff that I post.

Me to all of you (This feels corny but I was born on the cob🌽):

.

.

.

.

(Here's the posts I was talking about.)

[viburnt]

Divorcing Izuku Midoriya Headcanons

I'm on a creative rush, and this may make zero sense because I'm tired lmao. Anyways, have some angst <3

Tagging the babes: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @trickster-kat @angelshimaa (babe, you've missed some very angsty posts) @xhieru @mimisxs @dabislittlemouse

Content Warning: Divorce, emotional abuse and manipulation, mention of baby-trapping, alcohol.

• As I said in my last post, divorcing Izuku is a nightmare. Think about the most energy-draining and mental health deteriorating process, and multiply it for a minimum of 6 months. Izuku won't make things easy for you at all, trying to drag and prolong the whole ordeal just to keep you close. I've divided this set of headcanons by key moments/topics to keep some order. I hope you enjoy them, I'm pouring my heart on these (also pay attention to detail because I'm working on something hehe).

Denial and confusion: the first days after you serve him papers

• Izuku genuinely doesn't understand why you want to leave, refusing to accept the fact that you're not happy being by his side. He's given you all there is to give: a comfortable house, nice clothes, expensive cars, etc. So when you serve him papers, Izuku's first reaction is confusion followed by fear. In that head of his, he's made everything a good husband has to do! So why? Why would you not be happy?

• If you were smart enough and planned your movements with care, you should be able to go through your divorce without depending financially on Izuku or having to live in the same place. You'd have to deal with his incessant calls and texts, often having to block unknown numbers to avoid hearing his whines, but it'd be less difficult. If you weren't thoughtful about the situation and proceeded without the right steps, oh, you're in for a treat: there's nowhere you can go besides the house you shared with him, no place where you can be at peace. You're at Izuku's mercy, like it or not, but that's another story.

• In addition to his denial, Izuku starts to (unconsciously) guilt trip you. Phrases like "Sorry for not being enough," and "I know I'm very pathetic" become frequent. It pains your heart to hear those things because you know Izuku loves you, you are just not compatible at all. You try to let him see it's not about being enough, it's more about effort; with much patience, you set things clear to avoid any misunderstandings, but Izuku just doesn't get it.

• "Haven't I done this or that for you? Didn't I buy you all these things? Am I not enough?" "Izuku, I didn't ask you for any of this, all I wanted was my husband..." Conversations like this occur during this phase, and they can only be held through the phone (when he is sober and not yelling/hollering how much of a mistake a divorce would be). He tries to gauge sympathy from you, telling you that his job is important but that he loves you so much!

• He becomes an empty shell of the bright ray of sunshine the public knew. It goes unnoticed by many, but the people who work around him can tell. It is then when he starts telling others about his marital situation, and you end up seeing faces you've met once or twice during galas or hero events. You "accidentally" stumble across your husband's colleagues, like Ochako, who try to convince you to give him a second chance. "I- I know we don't know each other a lot but please, consider it. Izuku is a great guy a-and I'm sure you guys could fix any problem!" It is embarrassing for you because no one wants people to know their issues.

• What's so ironic about the moment when you serve him papers is that he receives them at his office, the very root of all the problems in your marriage. It was the place where he had spent anniversaries, birthdays, Valentine's... those four walls witnessed the beginning and the end of your relationship. Izuku has a mental breakdown when he finally reads the documents but, hey, he was still pro-hero Deku, right?

Negotiations and lawyers: The first weeks and months

• If having to deal with Izuku's colleagues trying to change your mind wasn't enough, be ready for your soon-to-be ex trying to negotiate. Midoriya suggests couple's therapy to talk this through, and for a split of second, it almost sounds like a good idea! But then you remember all those times when Izuku had promised you he'd be there for you and failed. It didn't seem plausible after that... Besides, all things considered, it'd be hard to find a therapist who could see your side of the story. Who would dare to tell someone as charming and popular as Izuku that he failed as a husband?

• Once therapy is off the table, Izuku brings up children. It may be considered a low blow, especially if one of your dreams was to form a family with him, so his offer felt cruel. "W-we can have kids! Wouldn't you want that? We can be a big family, with one- No, two babies!" "Ouch, it takes a divorce for you to even think about it, huh? That's uh, slightly concerning. Besides, a kid needs a father too... I'm not planning on being a single mom in this marriage" Now, Izuku strikes me as the kind that would try to . to stay. I'm sorry if it sounds terrible, but considering how sometimes he acts on impulse, he really could try it.

• Izuku also tries to be at home more often; he "cooks" (it's takeout disguised as home meals), brings you coffee to the bed, and calls you all kinds of sappy nicknames... It saddens you, why couldn't he care like that before? Of course, this point only applies if you still live with him during this whole process. If you don't, he starts frequenting the places where he guessed could find you: cafeterias, plazas, shops...

• Finding a lawyer for you was a hard task, especially because everyone sees you as a "dumb" woman who is trying to divorce Japan's number one hero. Not to mention they were very expensive, and Izuku was certainly not giving you money for that. You tell Izuku that mediations need to happen to progress with the divorce, but he never shows up to the meetings. There's always an excuse for that man! No matter how much you plea, he refuses to sign the paper. Izuku also becomes very mean towards you, outright berating you for not understanding him. It's gruesome to see him turn into such a monster during these months.

• As an additional point for this part, Izuku hires a private investigator to follow you around. He feels bad for thinking of it, but the idea that you could be seeing someone else while you're trying to divorce him eats him alive.

Last resort: Mediatic battle

• The media is very quick to pick up your marriage's fall down. Time after time you visited your lawyer's office for them to put two and two together, and Izuku takes that to his advantage. Sensationalist articles had already been happening, a lot of them being cruel and demeaning towards you. Titles like "Is she a cheater?" "No amount of success gives you the girl!" And "Pro-hero Deku will be looking for a new wife soon" started popping up. You have to take down any social platform to avoid being targeted.

• It is when Izuku gives a public declaration that things get worse. "I'm sorry, my wife is just not happy with me anymore. Please respect her wish! Don't harass her, I failed as a husband." It may seem like a hearty and sorrowful declaration from the outside, but Izuku picked word by word to gain sympathy and pressure you into changing your mind. People in the street call you "heartless", and the stress simply keeps growing for you.

• To put it in simple words, you were David against Goliath, except Goliath was a glorified person who had all the resources and support of the people. You were nothing but a tiny mouse squeaking to be set free of a relationship that was suffocating you.

The aftermath: Supposing you haven't given up and he signed the divorce papers

• If you somehow manage to divorce him after all these problems, congratulations. You survived 5% of the drama that awaits you! Now you won't be able to date someone without people snapping photos for entertainment news or judging you for leaving "such a great man". Izuku will still try to convince you to go back to him, playing his "sad lover" role in front of the cameras so well! He'll try to send expensive gifts and tell you to keep the house, he'll call you drunk in the middle of the night, and if you're not careful enough, he may try to gaslight you into thinking nothing wrong was happening in your marriage.

• One particular thing I must mention is that Izuku only signed the papers after you yelled at him at one of the legal mediations, hot embarrassment tears falling from your tired eyes as you begged him to let you go.

• Anyways, the list could go on, but those are the main points of divorcing Izuku :')

"Please, just sign the papers..." You said through the phone, your voice tired of pleading to someone who simply refused to hear you. "I will, I will! I'm just a little under the snow with work. Can you reschedule?" Izuku said, apologizing for not being there for you. Excusing himself for failing you, but refusing to let go. "You know how many articles I've seen with my face saying how much of bitch I am for visiting my lawyer's office?"

Izuku's silence was deafening, you could only hear him sigh slightly, perhaps feeling bad for putting you in such a position. "I don't want this divorce."

"But I do, so don't make things more difficult for me, please." He heard you say, biting his lip to hold back the tears. Izuku was glad you couldn't see him, sitting alone in his office with a half-empty bottle of wine you'd gifted him for his birthday. "Do you remember what day is today?" He asked.

"I don't know, Monday? I haven't slept lately." You answered unamused. "It's our anniversary... we married 5 years ago, on this very day." His words came out as a slow slur, his breath hitching as he crumbled through the phone. "I miss you a lot, please-"

"I'll see you on Wednesday, if you're not there I swear to God..."

...

"Mr. Midoriya?" Your lawyer called, her voice bringing your anxious husband back to reality. "Ah, sorry, it's me. Is... is she in there?" He asked, pointing at her office. She just looked at him with little sympathy and nodded. "On time, as always. Maybe you should avoid keeping her waiting, that's the least you could considering how many times we've had these conversations."

"There's no way I can fix this, is there?" Izuku asked as if the lawyer cared. "Wanna do something nice for her? Divorce her."

[iznsfw]

above the law, (under you)

TWICE's Chou Tzuyu x Male Reader Smut

4,629 words

Categories | lawyer!Tzuyu x criminal!you, thighjob, blowjob

Quick one for TWICE's maknae. Hope you like it.

The thing about law is that it's actually quite flexible. Forget what your law professors taught you and all those fines the government threatens. If you manage to lie with just a bit of space for truth to distort your falsehoods into, you can get out of anything easily. That's certain, actually, no matter what consequences are inscribed into whatever bible juries and judges have. Maybe you'd only have to spend a few days in jail, probably narrowly avoid a death sentence. 

At least, that's how it works when you've got a good lawyer. 

Oh, yeah, that's what Tzuyu is for. Lucky you.

"So you understand," she says, spreading your files on the desk like it were butter across toast (don't mind the choice of comparison; your stomach is growling), "that it gets suspicious."

Actually, you don't. "Do elaborate."

Tzuyu sighs. She drags a hand along her golden hair. Normally, colored hair in the courtroom would be looked down on, but she's reached that kind of status that it doesn't matter what she does or who she represents—whether she wins or loses the trial for you, she's Chou Tzuyu, and everyone still gives her the deserved respect. 

But with you, the situation is more dangerous. It's a hit or miss with you, and now, the two of you are getting closer and closer to missing.

"You've been in and out of juvie since you were in middle school," she says, one pinky up to count the factors. Another as she goes on, "And you haven't stopped robbery and physical assault since then. You raged in the divorce court, too, so trust me: when it comes to custody of your kid, it doesn't get easier."

Three fingers. Three's the charm, right?

"Well," you curl down the sides of your mouth and raise your hands, "obviously."

Again, you're lucky to have Tzuyu. She's the only one who's paid enough to put up with your bullshit. She's the only one who can get you out of said bullshit. If you said that to anybody else, they'd kick you out, and you know enough already about being excluded and rejected.

That's not to say you feel sorry for yourself, just to be clear. You're too used to this rowdy lifestyle that your own actions don't humiliate you. Neither does the fact that you haven't matured from the age of sixteen. 

In that case, you do feel sorry for Tzuyu, though. She's an intelligent and beautiful young woman. She's only going forward from here on out, but you'll always hang onto the hem of her dress pants like a tail. You're a mistake that no Mongol pencil top can erase, and that's been sealed into her mind long after she accepted to represent you. 

She's the one getting paid anyway. No need to muck over it.

"Did you do it, though?" Tzuyu asks. 

"Do what?"

"Did you beat up your ex-wife's husband in front of her?" 

Honesty is a virtue that only your lawyer is deserving of. So, "Yeah."

Tzuyu pinches her nose. "And the drunk texts?"

"Uh huh."

"The lamb blood on the yard?" 

"All me, baby," you answer. 

You're a bit regretful, to be honest. Not for the fucked up shit you did to coax your ex-wife into getting back with you, but with how you failed to use your own blood to write out "YOU'LL ALWAYS BE MINE, DAHYUN!" in front of her house. But you've already crossed one too many lines.

"You sound proud," Tzuyu notes. "Don't you realize how this can influence the trial?"

Do you? Probably, but you've gone to court so many times, against so many people, that it's become like a second home. The Corinthian columns looming over you don't scare you anymore. Neither do the judge and jury.

Maybe the reason you keep fucking shit up is the need for something to feel?

You haven't felt anything in a long time besides anger. Maybe that's it. Maybe that's why you keep doing what you do despite knowing it can ruin your few good relationships with the few good people who deal with you.

"You can get me out of this alright, Tzuyu," you say. Prop your feet on the opposite plush seat that stands at the front of her desk. "Just lie—you know, it's your job."

"I'm a lawyer, not a magician," Tzuyu says, speaking through her grinding teeth. "I'm not another foolproof way to buy yourself out of consequences."

"That's nice. Got that comeback off searching 'badass lawyer quotes'?"

Tzuyu stares at you. She's really too cute to be in a courtroom, but the way her full lips are set and her eyes glare through your soul make you remember that she's up there for a reason. All these certificates and awards placed on her wall and bookshelves aren't out of nothing. She deserves respect from you because she's still your lawyer, she's still your only way out of going to prison.

"You just… don't care, huh," Tzuyu remarks. "Everything about this is just one huge joke to you."

Her tone isn't far from her usual formal one, but it's mixed with realization, too. She realizes that you'll always be like this. It's not your job or your kids or work—it's you. It's all on you.

"But really," she continues, with a small, bitter laugh, "the funny thing is I actually held out hope for you."

She did? 

You've been waiting a lifetime to feel something that isn't rage. You're surprised to find out that it would happen, and the thing would be guilt.

"I—I thought that if I did everything I could for you," she says, her fists curling tighter to the beat of every syllable, "for you to get away scot-free, you'd actually put some sense in yourself." She smiles sarcastically. "But I was stupid to think that, wasn't I?" 

Everyone's been disappointed in you one way or another. It's no lie that your parents are. There's also a reason why your siblings won't talk to you anymore. But the disappointment riding off Tzuyu's words hurt unexpectedly. It breaks you. 

It also, somehow, angers you. 

"Get out of my office." She points to the door. "I'm done with you."

"No, you're fucking not," you reply. 

Tzuyu's accustomed to your banter and attitude, but that actually stops her in her tracks. She looks at you with disbelief.

Your smile quakes with anger. "We're not done until I say so, Tzuyu."

"That doesn't work on me."

"Come on, let's face it, attorney," you say, stressing the title with false respect. Set your hands on the desk scattered with files and folders. "You like me."

Tzuyu rolls her eyes. "Oh, please, spare me the—"

"No." 

Your steps trace a marble path to the back of her desk, to the place that should be off-limits to you. You never raped or anything, but you remain a criminal, and she remains a lawyer who has to set boundaries. 

However, all boundaries are crossed when you've got her backed up to the edge of her desk, when her pretty face is centimeters away, and your hands are itching to tear the high fashion uniform off her slender body.

It's the first time you've ever seen Chou Tzuyu scared. Her face is set to a poker expression in the courtroom and out of it, but seeing her parted lips and wide doe eyes ignite your emotions. It's new, it's different, and you love it more than you should.

"Come on, Tzuyu," you press, tilting your head to the side. "You know why you want to keep defending me after all the fuckery I did."

"And what can that be?" Tzuyu asks. Her brows are raised.

Another question, you see. This girl really should stop inquiring about things she knows well the answer to, but, graciously, you say it out loud for her. You're a good guy like that. "Didn't I say it already? You like me. Admit it: you're tired of defending guys who at best stole from Walmart. You want the real horror. You want me."

It's all delusions to grope for the upper hand, but you see Tzuyu's eyes. You can read them well from all the time you've unwillingly(?) spent together, you know that her rare expression of vulnerability means something:

You've caught her.

"Oh." Smile. Your rambling holds some truth after all. "So I'm right. Of course you like me."

"Don't flatter yourself," Tzuyu snaps. She struggles to keep eye contact with you. 

"No, no." Guide her face to meet your gaze. "You want some relief. It's not easy being a lawyer, definitely not easier to fall for a psychopath client. But it just happens. You can't control it."

She swallows, looks down, and shakes her head. That's something she's humble enough to admit. "No…" 

"Of course. I can give you what you want, you know."

"I don't want anything from you," says Tzuyu. Her eyes fire an unspoken word of caution to you. "You don't know what you're trying to do."

"For a lawyer," you chuckle, "you're a terrible liar. I thought that was the whole thing with you people."

"I told you to leave already." 

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere," you say, sliding your hands down to her tiny thing of a waist, "until you tell me what you actually feel."

You can feel Tzuyu's breaths accent the rises and rests of her tight midriff. She's contemplating this over, but she knows that she's grown fond of you. You know this, too. Like you said, there's a reason for her staying with you. 

You have to admit you've grown fond of seeing her, too. Her face is more than easy on the eyes. Hearing her as well is an everyday delight; her soft voice is melodious, even when she's describing your crimes. 

So, what's there to say? 

"It's not right," Tzuyu says. The shakes of her head are too repetitive to be sincere. "I can't be biased towards you. I… I have to be professional."

"It's just you and me, sweet," you quip. Step closer so that her body's flush against your form and her gaze can go nowhere. "Live a little. Who cares if it's wrong?"

"My career—" she tries.

"Tzuyu. Come on. Fuck the convict you want so badly. I put you through enough already."

Understanding passes through her eyes, mingled with hesitation and a sprinkle of fear. She wonders, as she peers at your face from a taller height, how you knew about the whole crush ordeal. Was she too obvious? Flirty? Patient? It can be one or the other, and she'd still have to dial it down.

But her heart skips several beats that her words come unrehearsed. Your hands at her waist, so close yet so far to where she needs them to be, trigger her needs. 

So, there it is: she needs you. She has to accept that.

"O-okay," Tzuyu finally agrees. 

"There you are. You finally came around."

"Just shut up and fuck me."

"Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?" Your shameless kisses end up on her neck and collarbone that peek through the ends of her blazer and the neckline of her innerwear. "I know you thought about it, Tzuyu. How I'd bend you over on this desk, fuck your brains out, make you cum more times than you can count."

As you pull the blazer from her body, Tzuyu hisses, "Don't get too happy, dickhead."

How unprofessional of her. But you have to admit it feels powerful to be able to extract the most unladylike of words from a woman who'd never dare utter them. And you're just getting started—she's only sitting on the edge of her desk, and not even filled with your cock yet. 

Your fingers aren't idle. They appreciate her tall curves and the fullness of her thighs. They even slip under that pencil skirt to feel around for her center. 

Of course, you find it. You find it under a layer of flimsy shorts and panties. Tease her clit; have her legs join in attempts to undergo the stimulation. 

And then—

"Oh my god," she whines. Tzuyu purses her lips. Curls her fingers at the cliff of the desk. "Feels so good."

"I know it does," says you. "Why don't you return the favor? Jerk off my cock with those pretty hands?"

Her posture becomes too straight to be proper as you press your fingers at her sensitive pink walls. "I've done too much for you. Y-you don't deserve any more favors."

That's fair. She's still a smart girl, even when she's soaking your fingers. 

Can she be a good girl? To be a good girl or not to be—that is the question.

"You're right. My cock deserves to be inside you, not just in your hand."

The faster pace has Tzuyu's legs jerking. "Fuck you."

Chuckle. "You are."

Maybe you don't need a handjob as a warm-up. Your cock already erects by itself watching Tzuyu react and moan to your digits pumping in and out of her. Her beautiful arms, free from the blazer, struggle and strain to stay upwards with how quick you're fingerfucking her. Her unkempt whines are so unlike her that there's complete pride inside of you, an arrogance, even, that's birthed from the fact that you make her like this. You're so fucked up that it turns her on when it shouldn't, and now that you're fucking her, the immorality of everything gets her wet. 

"P-please," she says. Her doe eyes are watery with need. 

She's never said that outside of the courtroom, where she says that only for formality's sake. But here she is, anyway, begging you for something she'll have to spell out if she doesn't want you to go crazy and fuck her in every corner of her office. 

Maybe that's what you'd do anyway.

"What is it, Tzuyu?" you ask. Your fingers strain while the heel of your hand hits and rubs her clit. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need."

"Please," again, "faster. Oh my god, that's all I ever want, please go faster."

No more do her legs close. Rather, they part. They welcome your thrusts and rubs. She's completely allowing you to fuck her, despite how wrong it is and how it can screw up your future trials. Bias this and bias that are things she doesn't care about anymore. All she knows is that her nipples ache to be pinched, and her pussy awaits more of your thrusts because she's close. So close that she could taste euphoria already.

"Should I go rougher, hm?"

"Please, fffuck, I don't know." As you squeeze one of her handful-sized breasts, she bites her lip hard. "Just fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please, make me c-cum—"

When Tzuyu orgasms, it's messy yet quiet. Her formality shows up even in sex. Her moans are tight and so is her pussy as it clenches down on your fulfilling digits, and you have to perk your ears up to hear her sounds of pleasure. She's still a quiet girl, barely talkative (though you've managed to pull a few pleas out of her already), and you're completely trying to change that with your pumps.

Your lips create a purple bruise on her neck. Tzuyu sighs and gasps helplessly. She's wetting your fingers like a flood, and you keep provoking the natural yet woman-made disaster; you drag your fingers at her velvety, weak spots and venture deeper. 

You don't have to ask her if it was good. She's panting heavily, and sucks on the soaked fingers you've led to her face to calm herself down. Watching her pink lips work away at your hand, as if she were suckling something completely different, makes you more turned on. Her warm wet mouth deserves to be somewhere else rather than just your pointer and middle.

"Now that wasn't so bad," you say. Draw them out of her mouth. "You didn't leave any for me to taste. How selfish."

"You still could." Tzuyu points to her mouth. 

It's clear that she's wanted you to kiss her forever. When your lips press against her mouth, she immediately slips her tongue inside. You return the favor, but also to have her own self-made taste of love. 

As expected, she's fucking delicious. 

You hold her head in place as the two of you kiss for seconds that felt like hours. After, you're breathless.

"You're a good kisser," she comments. 

"You want me to tell you what else is good?" 

"Oh, please. Show, not tell." 

Your belt's off and soon, your trousers are as well. Tzuyu's gazing at your hard cock with admiration. It just boosts your pride and arrogance—you can never tell the difference between the two when they mix and match with each other so often.

"No one told me criminals had big dicks," says Tzuyu. She skates her hand on your cock, stroking it softly. Her eyes have left it and instead seal on your faltering gaze. 

"You learn something new everyday." Try not to make your shuddering breaths obvious when she starts jerking you off. "You like?"

"I think… I think I want to suck it."

"Go ahead. No one's stopping you."

"There're a lot of people stopping me," she informs you. "If they find out I'm fucking a client, then what?"

She doesn't live up to her words of concern because she hops off the table cleanly and kneels anyway. Her small face looks even tinier next to your cock. And you realize now how her mouth is miniscule too after she wraps her lips around your cockhead. 

You shiver. 

Tzuyu's staring again. 

This time, her large eyes are directed up at you. She doesn't have to focus on your dick when her mouth is doing it for her. With each harsh swipe of her tongue on your tip and the drawing of her mouth closer to the base, your cock grows wetter with her drool and precum. 

"Your mouth is amazing, Tzuyu," you say. You're not afraid to admit that.

She responds to you not with words, but with more suckling. She closes her lips around your base then slowly brings her mouth up. She repeats this cycle of pleasure until your whole rod is coated with her. When she feels you throb in her orifice, she giggles—what's more satisfying than seeing the guy who put her through hell become weak?

You're in a daze of your own, too. As much as you like seeing Tzuyu dominate the court with her steady voice and no-nonsense look, she looks so much better when she's on her knees. When her hands wrap your hips to thrust her head forward and force your length down her tight throat. When the usually serious look in her eyes fades into obscurity and is replaced with an almost innocent look that says "come on, use me, fuck my mouth."

That's exactly what you do anyway. You don't need her prodding to fuck her pretty face.

Tzuyu's hums vibrate on your sensitive flesh. The back of your cock slides deliciously on her tongue and almost all of your rod slides down her throat. It bulges; you can tell even without looking down. She's a slim girl after all. It's easy to fuck and fold and use her. This situation isn't any different.

"Yeah, that's it," you say, grinning. "Take my cock, Tzuyu. Take it like a good girl."

Her ears burn. Her thighs squirm together, and that's how you find out that she might like being called a good girl more than you'd think. Stroking her hair that looks like it was personally woven with real gold has her whining. You can't believe the tough lawyer has a submissive side, too. 

Has she done this before? She seems to be taking the thrusts to the back of her throat well. Perhaps she simply enjoys this. You'll never know.

"I'm gonna cum, Tzuyu," you announce. "You better swallow it all like the slut you are."

Her cheeks hollow as your cum fills her mouth. Her lips remain sealed on your tip so the flow of your semen ends up nowhere but inside her. 

After you pull out, you realize then that you've just fucked your lawyer's face. It's like everything was a lucid dream that eventually blended into reality, because there's Tzuyu, still kneeling and gulping down your cum, and your cock out in the open between your bare legs. There are lines you've crossed before, but you never thought you'd do the same to the boundary that's been set between you and Tzuyu. 

Where's the rage you felt earlier? Why does arousal take its place?

"I'm not a slut, by the way," says Tzuyu airily. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm not your good girl either."

"Oh, alright. Does that mean you won't let me fuck you?"

"Jerk," she spits. "Your cock isn't even that big."

"I guess I should leave then. You were a good fuck, Tzuyu." 

Turn your heel with faux intention to exit, like she's told you to do earlier, but you're pulled towards her again. She tugs your wrist and pulls you to herself, her ass snug against the edge of the table and you pressed against her slim frame.

Okay, so—

"I fucking hate you." Tzuyu tears the buttons off your shirt with a clean rip, and kisses your chest. Your neck. Grabs your waist to ensure that you're going nowhere. " I hate that you're so fucking annoying. I hate that I can't spend all day fucking myself on your huge cock."

"Did you just say I had a huge cock?" 

"Like I said," Tzuyu snarls, "shut up."

Whatever snarky response you could have come up with on the spot is lost into an embarrassingly loud moan. She's forced your still sensitive cock inside her, and now her hips are dancing forward and back. It's a dance of death with how it bears its weight on your mind and girth. 

"Thought I told you to be quiet," she says smugly.

Her skirt has ridden up her waist. You take advantage of this to get a feel for her thighs. They're slim yet round at the same time, creating the perfect balance that fits your squeezing hands. Tug on them to pull her closer. Your remaining inches make it past her folds, and Tzuyu moans in delight.

"And I thought you didn't like me," you say. But it's difficult to be cocky when her tight little pussy is just that good, squeezing you as if determined to drain your might and taking you good and well. 

Tzuyu scoots her wide hips side to side, arms sedentary on the sides of the table as she rests down on it, and bites her lip. Intentional or not, it's too fucking sexy. "Things change."

So, that's how it works out: your lawyer on the flat of her desk, above scattered piles of papers describing your crimes and issuing your statements, with her legs spread around your midriff and receiving your cock as a traveller in the desert would receive water. She's desperate, is what you're saying—her gasps are timed to the beat of your thrusts, and she's accompanying it with soft curses. This whole sex thing could be a song, you see. Tzuyu can play the vocals, and her cleavage that bounces behind her vest could be looped and made into a matching music video. It's just so perfect.

"So good, you're so good," she sighs, her mind addled with thoughts of you ruining her insides and, probably, fill her up with semen. "Fuck me harder. Touch me. Use me, my god, just fuck me."

You pull up her vest to devour her breasts. The brown nipples end up in your mouth, suckled on and chewed, while the softness of her small tits are relished with squeezes. Tzuyu whimpers quietly, volume hushed down as it always is with her. Although her quiet whines turn you on, it's the will inside you to have the silent lawyer screaming that propels your thrusts. Drives them with a purpose that's so specific your hips could have a mind of their own. 

Dragging her vest off her torso is how you see that your cock is bulging through her tight midriff. The lines of her abs hide not your cock forcing yourself through her hole. Tzuyu notices it, too, and you feel her become wetter underneath you, because she loves it. She loves how wrong this is, how she's letting a person she shouldn't even be acquaintances with outside of her career use her like a doll.

"P-please," she says (for the millionth time, yes, but you'll never grow tired of hearing it.)

"Should I go harder?" Do exactly that, rutting her against the table, even without her answer. "Rub this little thing here?"

Tzuyu cries out. There's a completed mission—you've finally forced her to scream, and it's all thanks to your thumb toying with her clit.

"Oh my god!" she yelps. She looks at you with eyes filled with shock at how good it feels. "Oh my god, yes, keep doing that! It feels so—fuck!"

"Keep screaming like that and I'll make you cum. Do you want to cum, Tzuyu?"

She nods dumbly. "Yes, make me cum. M-make me cum around that stupid big dick, I love it so much, please!"

You're reaching places inside her that her own fingers couldn't embark to. The bulge on her stomach goes farther, and you think of how you're rearranging her guts so deliciously, how she's pounding at the table in frustration and pleasure and screaming, and how you can give her bliss with just a few more pumps.

Your thrusts hold purpose—they're driven by Tzuyu's boobs lifting with the creaks of her desk, the squeeze of her pussy as it swallows you whole, the helpless look on her face. She's so beautiful, really, and you're glad to be able to—

"Gonna make me cum!" she wails. "Gonna make me cum, gonna make me cum, don't fucking stop!"

Tzuyu's pleasure reaches an all-time high. She clenches as hard as her muscles can bear and screams. Her throat must be sore because of that, so you don't forget to kiss all over it as you extract a violent orgasm from her with rough, untimed pumps. 

She's shivering, eyes unfocused. She's rambling senseless words that don't quite give clues to what they should be comprehended as.

That's exactly what you want.

You pull out. "I want to fuck your thighs." Show so after that: slip your dick in between her soft, supple skin, and add, "Gonna explode on that fucking stomach."

"W-why not inside me?" whines Tzuyu. She closes her eyes as your cock unintentionally brushes over her folds and prods at her bundle of nerves.

"You're already fighting to give me custody of my kid," you chuckle. "What makes you think I want another?"

Tzuyu manages a laugh. You're too laser-focused on fucking her thighs though to appreciate her first love beauty when she smiles, since you're as close as you can be. With the soft flesh holding your length captive as you pray for your soul not to be by the eyes of justice, you have no choice but to do what you said: cum on her tight midriff.

White above tan skin is a beautiful color on your lawyer.

"You're… you're a little evil, you know that?" Tzuyu makes out. She glances at the puddle of cum on her rising stomach with fascination.

"Oh, love." Lean down to kiss her, with your arm pillaring the space on the table not occupied with paperwork. "You're just now figuring that out?"

[watchmegetobsessed]

okay so hear me out: yn’s dad owes a hell lot os money to harry’s dad, not like in a maffia way, but its a serious situation. harry’s father comes up with an offer: if yn marries harry, he will let go of the debt. ofc yn’s dad refuses to sell his daughter but she wants to help her family so she ends up convincing her dad to accept it.

now, harry is known to be this grumpy, closed off loner, he has his own house with lands that he takes care of himself, he is doing his own business but he is known to be distant and doesn’t want anything to do with people. thats the reason why his dad wants him to marry someone, so that he might come out of his shell and start acting “normal”.

there is no wedding, they sign the papers separately and yn moves into harry’s house but they are just two strangers living together. harry ignores her most of the time, even tells her to stay out of his space and she can do whatever she wants as long as she doesn’t bother him.

but ofc they can’t avoid each other entirely so they have awkward encounters and run ins here and there, they even talk sometimes and slowly, i mean veeeryy slowly they get used to each other. but yn still feels incredibly lonely and homesick and one night harry finds her crying in the kitchen and he realises how awful she must be feeling so he tries to make her feel more home: he plants her favourite flowers in the garden, he repaints the window frames in the sunroom where she likes to read to her favourite color, he even attempts to cook for her… and slowly, she realises he is not the grumpy, mad guy everyone fears in town but a wonderful man who has been going out of his way to make her happy and ofc she is falling for him, just as hard as he is falling for her.

that is until he finds the emails she has exchanged with a lawyer about a possible divorce without fearing consequences towards her dad. he gets mad and disappointed and so sad, bc he felt like he found the person he could open up to but he was reminded that yn was only there to help her dad, not for him.

bc he still loves her, he gives her a way out: she can go back to her old life, they are getting a divorce and her father will remain dept free. she is confused about the 180 he just took, he is cold all of a sudden and she doesn’t know why. she convinces herself that he doesn’t love her and that she has to move on so she takes the deal and moves back home.

they start the divorce process, it takes about a month and they both suffer that time without each other, she realises he is her home now and he believes he will never love anyone again. they have to sign the final papers and so harry tries to make it happen without them meeting but she shows up at his place and says “i will sign these papers if you say you don’t love me, but if there is the slightest chance you have any feelings for me then im ripping these to pieces and coming right back where i belong” and he goes “feelings? yn i love you like i never thought i could possibly love anyone, i was just a shadow all my life until you came into my life and brought light and love and i will never be the same man again, not after seeing a glimpse of what life could be with you”

so ofc no papers get signed, their dumb asses realise they both been in love with each other so she moves back and they never let go of each other.

wow this was a long rambling lol

[highlordofkrypton]

my ACOTAR wips // you wanted a villain?

I've been sitting on this one for a hot minute. I wrote this as a response to my annoyance with the shift in narrative, specifically towards Rhysand in the ACOTAR series.

So, I figured I'd introduce my morally gray boy (idek if he's gray, either), and see how it holds up, but then I got attached to the sibling dynamic with Amren. I also really enjoy writing ancient horrifying creatures, so...

Not sure if I'll continue this, but it was cathartic to write.

TL;DR - There's a new menace in town, and he's... Amren's older brother? Beware of depiction of violence, if ever you're not cool with that. Read the WIP under the cut.

TAGS: YOU ASKED FOR MY OC, YOU'LL GET MY OC. @watcherintheweyr @amalhe-kofee and @feyres-divorce-lawyer this is my anti-IC WIP that I mentioned... IT'S NOT FEYRE FRIENDLY BTW IM SORRY

The House of Wind rests on the side of a mountain, atop a valley, overlooking the beautiful city of Velaris. It is the throne upon which the high command of the Court sit, watching over the peasants who rebuild after war and knitting fanciful tales of proximity. From high above, behind their wards and between wild oak walls, they tell themselves—these are my people, this is my court. 

Lights wink shut across the city, like candles snuffed out by a violent breath. The darkness creeps in from the outskirts, slithering towards the House with frightful purpose. A blanket of silence hushes the people, though most are already asleep. There is no such thing as the winds of change; change simply happens when it is least expected and least desired.

A mouse tiptoes against marble floors, silent as ever. Years of hunting to survive have taught her the habit, even if the need for discretion has long vanished. This is her home and these are her people. She has nothing to hide. (Oh, but who said she is hiding?) The smile that spreads on her face is wicked as she circles her prey, settled in the foyer, looking pensively into the fire. The bond between them remains firmly shut, an important part of her game, and the rest of her family has been ordered to bed in hopes of avoiding an… unwanted spectacle.

Rhysand looks as handsome as ever, if not more tonight. He stands tall and confident, broad shoulders in a dark suit that seems to drink up the dance of the flame. Feyre yearns for him—her love, her male, her mate. She creeps closer and closer, until she can wrap her arms around his waist. She has to stand on her toes to kiss his neck, nuzzle the fine hairs there and breathe in the scent of him. Crisp, cool, like the evening breeze. 

“You seem different today, I like it.”

Rhys always finds a way to take her breath away. The house rattles with the impact of Feyre's body against its walls and she sobs.

“Do not touch me,” he clips.

Rhys always takes her breath away, and he would, had he been the one here.

One by one, the Inner Circle of the Night Court appears. First are the three Illyrians, two of which are armed to the teeth. Their armour and weapons are familiar—discarded iterations of better inventions that this realm never did see. Their battle stance implies that they are trained, but not enough. Not for the villain they face now. 

“Let her go.” The very shadows warble around them as Rhysand makes his demands and utters his threat. “Or I will tear your throat out.”

Johan’s icy gaze slithers from the pseudo-Fae to the false prince. His face remains handsomely impassive.

“Oh, would you? I’d rather like that.”

There’s a glint in his eyes that betrays the rest of him. His tone is dead, like his soul at this very meeting. Is this all they are? The famed Night Court? Children, all of them.

The High Lord of the Night Court moves. Probably to save his mate. The second he starts, Johan squeezes harder. Feyre’s head turns red, then a little purple with suffocation. Her eyes bulge a pretty hazel. It is still a struggle, after all this time, for him to piece together recognition in the form of faces. He can scent the anger, the soaps they use to clean themselves and even the nature of their magic, but he cannot—will never—see them.

Threat of his mate’s death is enough to stop Rhysand in his tracks. The other two had started to circle him and they mirror the movement of their lord. While the demonstration of reason is reassuring, the clear weakness is disappointing. Johan squeezes a bit more, each increment with the end goal of snapping her neck and watching the life blink out of her. An unsatisfying end, but there are many of them here and he has many questions. One answer for one life, that should do. The first murder is always meant to send a message.

“Hanni?”

Amren enters the room, her voice so soft, it’s unrecognizable to the Illyrians she’s known for years. The way she looks at the stranger makes her seem much younger than her fifteen thousand years; it’s the longing that fills her expression, shattering every knowledge they’ve had of their friend. (Did they ever really know her? A creature this old and devastating?) She spares no glance at the violence against her friend, only bolting towards Johan to tackle him in a tight hug. He remains unmoved.

“I have missed you.” Her eyes wrench shut as she holds him. Not even the sound of Feyre hitting the ground and her friends darting to care for the once-human High Lady will take this moment from her. “You’re back.”

Johan’s hand rests in her hair, jet black to mirror his. (And their eyes, brighter than any stars in the Continent’s skies.) The touch is awkward. Stunted. “I am.” He says, flatly.

“You know this asshole?” Cassian whines.

When she pulls back, Amren puts little distance between herself and the visitor. “Yes, he is my brother.”

“Your brother?” Cassian sputters, choking on his own saliva. The room stills, every soul in it staring at their ancient friend who only ever hints at her past. The thought that Amren, a creature just barely contained in her flesh, could have family is beyond them. The younglings swallow audibly. They are afraid.

They should be.

Rhysand stands while Morrigan tends to the High Lady of Velaris, a boy defending his territory. “Tell your brother he is in my house and he will not lay a hand on my mate.”

How could you mistake him for me, his voice echoes down the bond and into… nothing?

“So long as I am here, all bargains are off,” Johan drawls. Even the ones made with the heart and the soul. Something he said must be amusing because he can feel Amren’s amusement bubbling up beside him, despite her mimicking his impassive expression. 

The rest of the children in the room are of mild interest to him, part of a task. Nothing less, nothing more. Tilting his head, he inspects Amren. He towers over her, both in stature and demeanour. If she was cold, then he is the ice that drew the world to a standstill. If she is distant, then he is the yawning crevasse between humanity, faeries and whatever they are supposed to be.

A metal finger slides beneath her chin, tipping it upwards towards him. His lips part to speak to her, but before he can get a word out, a wheezing useless sound interrupts him.

“What does that mean,” Feyre breathes, struggling to her feet. It would have been a better show of strength, had she not needed two people to keep her standing. “What… happened to the bond? Amren?” She looks to her friend, expecting their relationship to sway the situation in their favour how it always has.

Amren rolls her silver eyes towards Feyre, then back to Johan. “These are my friends.” She chooses her words carefully. For they all have been through together, the being before her would not understand the notion of family. Not with these people.

Johan’s handsome features twist into a brief scowl, but he smooths his expression just as suddenly. Her relationships mean nothing to him. They are infinitesimal before Amren, even smaller compared to himself. It is only out of affection for Amren that he does not flay the once-human. He does not bother with answering her question, he owes her nothing.

“What are you doing here, little one?” He finally asks, gleaming the answers from the cosmos in her eyes. “This is not your home.”

From the outskirts of the room, Amren’s friends flinch. Velaris had been her home. For now.

“I was trapped in this realm when you all left.”

A frown mars Johan’s features, no matter how slight. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers. She does not need to say it for him to understand. Left behind. He mourns the injustice in his own way. “Do you wish to return home?”

It’s not a question she can answer now, not without betraying one (or both) of her families. Amren steps back, schooling her emotions into their usual iron. Johan’s gaze follows her with the same attention a predator would offer his prey. One wrong step and he could have her between his teeth. All this time, she wrought fear to all the Fae around her—a bedtime story to keep them in line—but she is nothing compared to her brothers. (If Johan is here, then the Other must be, too, wreaking havoc across the continent.)

“Why are you here?” She speaks on behalf of their house.

You know why.

“Speak it, so that we all may hear.” The order is bold, a risk she has weighed out. Her friends stand at the ready; she’s still on their side and they trust her.

Johan surveys the cast before him, properly this time. There is Amren, standing in a new light by allying herself with children playing politics and heroics. The High Lord shares a handful of similarities to Johan, calling back to the origins of his line and his Court, but still only a shadow of its former glory. He is pleased to see the way Illyrians have developed. Still strong in build and character, with no visible adversity to techno-magic (despite its archaic shape). His gaze lingers on Azrael. Not his face, never the face, but the whole of him. The fae’s magic whispers to him—shadowsinger—and Johan’s nostrils flare in the only visible tell of amusement. This will need to be revisited. There is the female fae who is of no discernible interest to him and lastly, the High Lady who’s stature as fae decreases with every waking moment.

“This world is corrupt. I am here to return it as it should be.” Simple as that. “Your bond is no longer and so is your Making. Neither were earned, but if you are truly worthy, I am sure you will be able to gain one of those back.”

Shadows warble around the room as the High Lord winnows across the room, dagger in hand. He aims right for Johan's heart. Metal clangs loudly as the blade’s tip collides with Johan’s false hand. His other one slides behind the High Lord’s neck to pull him close. “Anything you can do, I can do better.” Johan purrs.

Rhysand would not be the ‘strongest of all High Lords’ if he did not have a vast arsenal of weaponry to use against any assailant. (In the background, Feyre tries to help, but stumbles when she comes to the sudden realization that she is no longer High Fae.) He barrels into Johan’s mind with the ease of daemati, and the mistake is his. Johan puts up no shields, welcoming him into the chaos of his mind. 

“Rhys, no!” Amren shouts, but it is too late.

Johan’s mind is—

A wasteland made of shadows. Light withers in his presence, basking him in primal darkness. Fear in its purest form lives in him, surrounded by the souls of the dead. (Failed experiments, blood on his hands and ghosts beyond even his explanation.) They haunt him endlessly, robbing him of the ability to connect with the living. (He is one of them and they will never let him go.) 

Rhysand claws at his face, fighting invisible monsters after spending a whole second inside the mind of an ancient demon. His eyes roll to the back of his head, body hitting the marble floors and seizing violently.

“What did you do to him?!” Feyre shrieks, crawling over to her mate and cradling him.

Nothing. Nothing was done to him, but the answer seems so obvious, it’s not worth speaking. What happened to Rhysand is a product of his own making. What point is there to all the power if he does not know how to wield it? Power pales in comparison to pure skill, and skill is nothing without the intelligence to know when and how to apply it. Johan simply tilts his head questioningly and looks down at the famed couple.

Cassian steps forward, ready to avenge his master, but the shadowsinger rests a hand on his shoulder, halting the thought with a shake of his head. Johan watches Azrael for a long moment.

Good boy, he presses into his mind. The thought is made of warmth and velvet. It slithers down Azrael’s spine and curls in his belly. The Illyrian flinches, glancing away from the invader. “What does that entail? Returning the world as it should be?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“What could—” Azrael’s question fades to nothing. Whatever he was going to ask, there’s no point. The man—the being—or whatever he was is already gone, clearly uninterested in entertaining their curiosity (and their fear).

Wisps of black smoke dance across the room as Amren is slammed into the wall. Johan manifests himself. “That is the last time you will question me on behalf of your mortals.” Her breath hiccups in her throat.

With that final word, he vanishes to finish his investigation of what this world has become.

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 4

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, so many flashbacks, more awkwardness, more funerals, more drinking, more murder, some fluff and a sprinkle of smut too

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Life got a little busy, so I've been a bit absent recently, but I'm so happy and grateful you guys are enjoying this series so far! All your sweet comments really put a smile on my face during all the chaotic and exhausting times 🥹🤍

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Chapter 4: Rewind

A tequila hangover required copious amounts of coffee to battle the raging headache you felt. Your eyes stung when they met the blinding sun this morning, not even your darkest pair of shades bringing much relief.

Your whole body ached, a welcoming soreness between your weak and wobbly legs as you stalked inside the little bakery and coffee shop on Main Street USA. Beau had already scolded you for calling it that, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Helena’s sheriff then had sent you here for your morning coffee run, hoping this way you’d avoid the questioning and curious stares of Jenny and Cassie. Needless to say, you had never made it to Cassie’s place last night. Beau had been very convincing (and successful) in making you stay.

Hands, lips, teeth, and tongue – you clenched at the thought alone, cursing yourself for soaking through your fresh underwear. How good were your chances for a quickie during lunch break in his office if you promised to thoroughly lock his goddamn door this time?

“Y/N, hey.” Carla’s voice made you flinch and pulled you from your naughty reverie – about her ex-husband no less.

Had you mentioned how much you hated small towns?

“Hey, Carla,” you greeted her with a flushed smile, hoping you hid your blushed cheeks and fluster well. You definitely felt caught with your hand in the cookie jar, although it was thankfully impossible for her to read your mind.

Was there no safe place to quietly get coffee in this goddamn village?

“Listen, Y/N, again, I’m so sorry about yesterday,” she apologized and nervously fumbled with her coffee cup in her hands, her gaze focusing on her heels.

Carla was usually confidence personified. She was strong-willed, assertive, and dauntless – all the traits that made her a fierce and excellent lawyer and a force to be reckoned with in court. It was rare for her to lower her head, so you knew she must really be trying to make amends.

“No, don’t be. Like I said, we’re good,” you assured her and swallowed the lump of embarrassment down your throat. “I get it. I really do. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too. I never meant for any of this to happen, you know?”

You never had gotten a chance to say it before. You had always felt bad for the way the two of you had left things. Carla was by far not your closest friend, but the tight friendship between both your husbands and the nature of your jobs had forced you to spend time together occasionally. You’d meet at barbecues on the weekends, drinks after work, and life events like Emily’s middle school graduation. You never meant to betray her. You never meant to hurt her. And you never meant for your friendship to implode like it did.

“I know. It’s okay, really,” Carla said. “I already told Beau this yesterday, but I want him to be happy. That goes for you, too. I found my happiness after the divorce. At least for a while…”

Upon her sad look, you gave her a sympathetic smile. You knew she wasn’t married to Avery for long, but that didn’t matter. You understood better than anyone what it was like to lose someone you loved.

“Hey, if you ever need someone to talk, call me, okay? I feel like I owe you a whole pitcher of margaritas,” you offered with a chuckle.

She returned your kindness with a soft smile. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that.”

“Well, if this ain’t interestingly awkward.”

Both you and Carla turned to Beau in surprise as he strolled through the doors of the coffee shop. Leave it to him to voice the uncomfortableness of the situation out loud.

“Hey, uhm… you,” you said with wide eyes and fist-bumped his arm. Obviously, you weren’t equipped to handle awkwardness very smoothly, either.

Beau sent you a tight-lipped smile that barely hid his amusement. “Do I need to pull out the sheriff’s badge here, or are you two good?”

“We’re good,” you assured him.

“Oh, relax, Beau,” Carla told him with an amused laugh and patted his shoulder in passing on her way out of the shop. “Don’t kid yourself. You could not handle either one of us, anyway.”

“Probably true,” Beau quipped in agreement as Carla waved you goodbye.

Beau waited till the door safely closed behind his ex before tilting his head at you, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You really good?”

“No!” you exclaimed frustratedly.

Laughing, he slung his arms around you and pulled you against his chest. Embarrassed, you buried your face in his shirt, clasping it with your palms for good measure.

“Tomorrow I’m getting coffee in the next town over. I really hate small towns,” you grumbled.

“So, I’m guessin’ you’re not a big fan of staying after the case is over, huh?” he asked carefully and rubbed his beard.

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about it until now. But Beau clearly had as he nervously chewed his lower lip and waited for your answer.

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes. “Well, uhm… Montana doesn’t have a field office. The next one’s in Utah, and I hate Utah.”

“Yeah, everyone does. It’s Utah,” Beau agreed jokingly. “Could always work here. Sheriff’s Department could use someone like you.”

You snorted. “Yeah, not gonna happen. You’re not gonna be the boss of me. That’ll have to stay a fantasy of yours.”

“Too bad. It was a good one,” he retorted with a cheeky smile and wiggled his eyebrows. Then, he became more serious. He scratched the nape of his neck in an anxious gesture. “But look, uhm, I was about to retire anyway, so I’m just putting that on the table, okay?”

“Alright, good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

You smiled softly up at him, thinking it was cute he wanted to follow you wherever you went. He’d never handled your relationship so open and secure before. In the past, everything always dangled in the air – his feelings, your future. Unlike the North Star, nothing was fixed.

You had always been a flag he’d never preferred to wave.

You let out a small sigh and pecked his lips. “But this case is far from over, so we’ve got time to figure it out, okay?”

He nodded, a bit more relieved at your answer. “Okay.”

August 2020

Beau rubbed his face clean as best as he could. His eyes were red and stung, his vision blurry as he stepped out of the church’s back room on shaky bow legs. He had to talk to you and make things right. He felt like he not only failed you but also his best friend. Again.

The funeral guests filtered out of the church one by one as he trudged down the red-carpeted aisle. Beau could feel their stares and judgments on him. He knew he looked like the biggest mess, his suit and tie in disarray, tousled hair, and bloodshot eyes. How many of them blamed him for his partner’s death?

“Dad?” Emily’s voice made his heart ache as his thirteen-year-old daughter looked at him with a mix of worry and disenchantment. He barely resembled the father she’d known all her life and held high on a pedestal.

“Emily, honey, go wait in the car,” Carla told her swiftly, taking immediate note of her husband’s disheveled status.

“But Mom–”

“Now, Emily,” Carla ordered more firmly and watched her daughter quietly leave the church.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Beau asked, trying his best to swallow any shame he felt down. He hated that his family had to see him like this. The disappointment and hurt were visible as clear as day in both their faces.

“You gotta be kidding me…” Carla scoffed in anger and disbelief, a part of her hardly grasping the current state of her husband. “Where the hell were you, Beau? Jesus, you reek! Have you been drinking?”

“I already went through this today, okay? I don’t need a replay,” he replied flatly, every part of him hating how she looked at him. “Have you seen Y/N or not?”

“Beau, what’s going on with you? Just talk to me, please,” Carla pleaded with him as the anger subsided, concern etched into her brow. “What happened during that shootout?”

Beau ran a hand over his face, his head spinning and his eyes burning. “I can’t do this right now. Just take Em home, okay?” he told her and pushed past her.

“Where are you going? Beau!” Carla called after him, but he stubbornly headed out the door to the parking lot.

Fortunately, you still hadn’t left, but what he was seeing didn’t put him more at ease. He watched as you put a clip into your gun, a duffel bag hurriedly packed with clothes lying in the trunk of your SUV.

You threw your black pumps carelessly into the backseat before slipping into a pair of worn jeans under your black dress, which you discarded next, leaving you momentarily in only a black satin bra. He averted his gaze and tried not to stare, even though you had your back turned to him, and he couldn’t see much anyway. Still, his heartbeat quickened as he approached you, while you pulled a white t-shirt over your head and tied your wavy hair into a ponytail.

“What are you doing?” Beau asked, the feeling in the pit of his stomach and the determination in your eyes already giving him a good guess.

“What does it look like? I’m going after them,” you said sternly and tied the laces on your boots. “DEA is going down to Mexico in a couple of weeks. Cody’s leading a task force. I fought my way in. They wanna scope out some locations tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, just look at you! You’re not going after them alone in this state,” Beau snapped, throwing his arms up in utter incredulity. His gut ordered him to protect you no matter the cost. He owed as much to his dead partner to look out for you. It was a constant debt in his mind.

“My state?” You cocked an eyebrow and snorted caustically, shaking your head at him. “Have you fucking looked at yourself recently? Compared to you, I’m fine. And I also won’t be alone.”

“You’re not fine,” Beau gritted with anger in his eyes and worry in his heart. “We’re all fucking far from fine. You’re gonna get yourself killed like this!”

“I don’t have time for this right now,” you brushed him off with a roll of your eyes and slammed the trunk shut, hurrying to the driver’s side. But a rough grab of your arm stopped you in your tracks and made you spin and glare at Beau.

“Dammit, Y/N!”

Your features softened when you saw the desperation in his look. “I need to do this, Beau,” you insisted calmly and looked deeply into his watery eyes. Tears filled your gaze and threatened to choke you. “I want them to pay for what they’ve done to him. They can’t get away with it.”

His grip on your arm loosened before he let you go completely. He ran a palm over his face and carded it through his messy hair.

“Fine,” he barked resolutely, the despair replaced by determination. “But I’m coming with you. You’re not doing this alone.”

“What, so you can get me killed, too?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as the words rushed out and pinched the bridge of your nose. Immediate regret flooded your veins.

When you finally dared to glance at him, he looked hurt and averted his gaze to the burning asphalt below. He smacked his lips, head bobbing. It felt like you had just thrown an ax to his heart, whipped him, bludgeoned him with a baseball bat, and shot him in the knee – all at once.

“Beau, I’m so sorry.” You could see in his eyes that your apology already came too late. He was spiraling, blaming himself for Randy’s death. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean it like that. I just-… It’s been a long day.”

“Nope, no, you’re right. Don’t apologize,” he rebuffed your efforts to patch the wound you’d opened with a dark chuckle. You felt like utter shit. “I let him down. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be alive, so…”

“Beau, don’t do this. He wouldn’t want you to. And neither do I for that matter…” You reached out and clasped his hand reassuringly. But it didn’t feel like it was enough, so you wrapped your arms around him, too, and pulled him into a hug.

Beau was frozen for a moment when he felt your body pressed flush against his before he wrapped his arms around you as well and held you tightly. Carefully, he rested his chin on top of your head, the scent of your shampoo winding its way to his nose. And for a mere second, he let go and allowed himself to be comforted, soothing warmth spreading throughout his body.

“I gotta go,” you said quietly as you released him. But Beau held onto your hand with his for a heartbeat before realizing the strangeness of his touch and withdrew his arm quickly with a clear of his throat, fingers ripping apart at the seams.

“Lemme come with you. Lemme help,” he stated.

“Beau, no offense, but you’re a mess,” you said with gentle honesty. “Can you even walk a straight line? Stand on one leg and touch the tip of your nose? Recite the alphabet backwards?”

He actually snorted at that, his lips forming a small smile. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “I’ll get better. Promise, okay? Just please… I need this, too.”

As you stared at him, you heaved a deep sigh. “Fine, get in,” you relented and gestured with your chin to the passenger’s side of your car. “But let’s hit a Denny’s first. Get some goddamn coffee and toast into you. Maybe a shower would help, too.”

Beau chuckled a little at that, nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

February 2012

Randy groaned loudly as he passed Beau the football, letting his head fall back between his shoulder blades. “Ugh, I can’t believe the Captain agreed to give the case to the stupid FBI. It was our case, man. We almost had the guy!”

“Yeah, I know. But hey, we could still follow our own leads. Solve it before the feds do. What’s Harper gonna do?” Beau suggested with a cocky smirk.

“I don’t know. Suspend us? Fire us? Just to name a few,” Randy quipped sarcastically and threw his partner a raised look.

Beau scoffed playfully and rolled his eyes. “Always by the book. You’re no fun,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Well, I can still bash the feds who are stealing this case from us. It’s probably some dumb asshole in a suit and sunglasses,” Randy joked and laughed, not noticing Beau’s facial expression change as he lowered his gaze to the floor, lips pursing.

You cleared your throat behind the chuckling detective, causing him to turn around and blink up at you.

“Well, I’m an asshole. I can admit as much. Definitely not dumb, though. I hate suits, and I don’t wear sunglasses indoors. Only douchebags do that,” you quipped and sent him a complacent smile upon his wide-eyed stare. Then, you arched a brow at the guy. “And stealing, really? You guys haven’t made progress on the case for weeks. Probably because you keep playing football instead of working.”

“Whoa, hey!” Beau threw in, furrowing his brow. “It’s a brainstorming technique, okay?”

“Yeah, for dumbasses,” you retorted. “Did you already get a concussion? Would explain a few things, mainly how you screwed up this case so much. It’s not rocket science, boys.”

“Okay, listen, missy. We did not screw up this case. We have leads, alright?” Beau argued fervently and took a step closer to you, his shoulders tensing as he was only inches away from your face.

You had the urge to tiptoe just to keep up with him for a proper face-off. He was tall, gigantic really, and now you were left to glare more or less into his chest.

“Who? The buyer for the jeweler? It wasn’t him. I already checked him out,” you said dismissively and could tell by Beau’s frown that it indeed had been his only lead. You then glanced at his partner. “Is he gonna say something or just stare? It’s not helping to refute my concussion theory, you know?”

Beau knitted his brow and shot his partner a look. As soon as he realized what was going on, he rolled his eyes and sighed. His best friend was running hot for Agent Hostile. Granted, you did look very sexy with all that fire burning in your eyes.

“Ey, Randy!” Beau snapped his fingers in front of his partner and hauled him from his surely naughty daydream.

“Uhm… I’m Randy,” he told you, dumbfounded.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, your mouth itched to smile in amusement. “Wow, okay… Does that come with a last name?”

Randy still gave you that same vacant and infatuated stare in his hazel eyes. “You can call me whatever you want.” He sent you an insecure smile with a halfway shrug.

“Oh, can I call you a moron?” you countered snappily.

Amused, Beau actually snorted into his shoulder as he dipped his head, but then decided to step in for his best friend. “Okay, c’mon, leave him be.”

“Look, just gimme the file, and I’ll be outta your hair,” you submitted your peace offering, which Beau accepted, handing you the folder.

“Uh… drinks?” Randy looked up at you hopefully, like a shelter puppy waiting to be adopted. You honestly found his fluster quite endearing.

“Is he asking me out?” you checked with Beau, a smile playing on your lips.

“I think so.” Beau chuckled and nodded. “Look, uh–”

“Y/N,” you provided, noticing him fumble for a name.

“Y/N,” he repeated with a warm smile that reached his green eyes. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. We could help you with the case. We know it better than anyone. Could save you some work.”

You smirked slightly, recognizing what he was doing. First of all, he wanted in on the case, clearly having a hard time letting go. You knew the type all too well. Sometimes people in law enforcement behaved like bratty toddlers when it came to cases – they all hated sharing their toys, but you knew how to play nice. And secondly, Beau wanted to ensure you got to spend more time with his partner – the perfect wingman. He deserved a medal for his efforts.

You lifted a knowing eyebrow at him. “Didn’t your captain already say no?”

“But what d’you say, darlin’?” He shot you a mischievous grin.

“You’re a troublemaker,” you noted and received an acknowledging shrug in return. “Are you gonna behave, Ferris Bueller?”

“Yes, ma’am. Hand on my red-blooded and beating heart,” Beau promised charmingly and did as advertised, placing his palm on his chest like he was swearing a Boy Scout oath.

Rolling your eyes, you groaned and caved. “Fine. I’ll talk to your captain. You guys can come along, I guess.”

Beau handed you their card with their numbers on it before you disappeared out of the station again. Comfortingly, he patted his partner’s back as soon as you had left, Randy still staring after your goddamn shadow.

“I wanna marry her,” Randy sighed dreamily.

“Whoa… Moving way too fast here, buddy,” Beau tried to rein him in. “Maybe try speaking a straight sentence to her first.”

“I can’t. I’m in love with her. She’s the one.”

“She called you a moron,” Beau countered and crossed his arms over his chest, although he kind of understood where Randy was coming from. If he hadn’t been married, he would’ve given you his best shot as well.

“That only made me love her more,” Randy insisted.

Sighing theatrically, Beau rolled his eyes back. “Dear Lord, help me…”

Randy then went on a long tangent about everything he loved about you. The words he’d been missing when you were around suddenly spilled out of him. And while Beau acted annoyed, he smiled internally for his friend’s happiness. He’d never seen him before like this.

June 2013

“Oh God, I think I’m gonna puke,” Randy said and swallowed what felt like bile in his throat. With his hands on his hips, he took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. “Can you give me that trash can?”

Beau handed him the bin next to him with an amused chuckle. “Alright, but just remember – no matter what you do, don’t puke on the suit.”

Randy scowled at him, panic taking over as he nervously paced the fancy dressing room. “Not in the mood for jokes right now, man,” he huffed.

Beau laughed heartily and raised his hands in surrender. He got up from his seat on the small and uncomfortable sofa and patted his friend on the back, squeezing his shoulders encouragingly. “Okay, calm down. Everything will work out fine. Why are you so nervous anyway? Is this you having cold feet? Should I do somethin’? Start a getaway car?”

Taken aback by the suggestion, Randy’s brow furrowed, close to offended. “What? No! I love Y/N. I can’t wait to marry her,” he stated with absolute certainty. “I just-… I don’t wanna stand up there and, you know, look like a moron. I want today to be perfect for her.”

Beau snorted a laugh. “Alright, you won’t, okay? That’s what I’m here for. If you do somethin’ stupid up there, I’m gonna distract everyone with somethin’ stupider. That’s basically my duty as best man.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s gonna love that,” Randy quipped sarcastically and chuckled. But the lighthearted distraction didn’t last long before his nerves burned through him again. “You think I can make her happy?”

Beau smiled at him warmly. “The way she looks at you, you already are. Trust me.”

“Okay, good.” Randy nodded in relief. “‘Cause sometimes I really wonder how I got so lucky. I swear I didn’t speak in straight sentences for, like, the first three dates.”

“Oh, I remember.” Beau snorted.

“Man, were you this nervous, too, when you married Carla? I swear this is killing me,” Randy asked with his wildly beating heart in his throat. “I think I’m having a heart attack… Or a stroke. My head keeps spinning. Is that normal? Doesn’t feel normal…”

Beau hesitated for a moment before he nodded with a light swallow. “Yeah, sure. Everyone’s nervous,” he assured his partner, although the truth was a little different.

Carla was already pregnant when they tied the knot, so they did the right thing to appease their parents. But sometimes, Beau wished they would’ve waited. He could tell Carla did, too. They were both young. She had still been in law school, chasing her degree, and Beau had barely finished police academy and had still been working patrol.

Sure, he was nervous on his wedding day, but it wasn’t a puking-your-guts-out-and-jittering-to-your-bones kind of nervous. But Beau loved his family more than words could say and wouldn’t trade his daughter for anything.

“Hey, uh, can you ask Y/N about the marriage certificate? I’m supposed to give it to the officiant or something,” Randy said with a confused brow, scratching his sweaty neck.

“Yeah, of course. Be right back,” Beau replied with a saluting gesture and strutted to the door, encouragingly patting Randy’s shoulder once more on the way out. “Try not to soil yourself,” he teased, chuckling.

Beau then strolled down the lavish hallway of the five-star hotel and stopped in front of your dressing room door. He knocked twice and heard a “Come in!” bounce through. But when he opened the door and peeked his head carefully inside, he wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him.

“Wow… uh…” Beau’s forest-green eyes went wide as he blinked at you. He was rendered completely speechless. How did he turn into Randy so quickly?

As you sat in front of your vanity, you glanced at him over your naked shoulder before you stood up and greeted him with a bright smile.

Your white dress hugged your curves perfectly, strapless but with a bit of cleavage, giving a perfect view of your clavicle and shoulder blades. It wasn’t one of those puffy princess dresses. It was smooth, uncomplicated, and delicate just like you.

You looked absolutely stunning.

“Wow,” Beau repeated and felt like a moron. He cleared his throat to haul himself out of his shameless staring and tried to recover his composure. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks.” You beamed with blushed cheeks. “You think Randy’s gonna like it?”

Beau smiled kindly, unable to take his eyes off of you. “Yeah, he’s gonna love it. It’s gonna make him even more nervous,” he replied, chuckling.

But your brow creased in concern, your lips parting. “He’s nervous?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Beau swiftly brushed your concerns away, “He’s nervous in a good way. No cold feet or anythin’ like it. He might just pass out and puke at the altar when you walk out. That’s all. Maybe some stuttering, too.”

You laughed softly, nodding. “That’s all, huh?” you teased. “Kinda like when we first met then,” you remembered fondly. “Or our first three dates, too, I guess.”

Musingly, Beau pursed his lips, his head bobbing in thought. “Hey, uh, can I just ask… Why did you keep going out with him? I mean, like you said he didn’t really speak for the first three dates. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good-looking guy, but, you know, you’re, well… you.”

You snorted lightly and cast your gaze down as your cheeks flushed even deeper red. “Thank you, I guess? But, uhm, to answer your question – I kinda liked that he was so flustered. It was endearingly sweet,” you replied and smiled to yourself at the memory. “‘Sides, every time he did say something, it was oddly complimenting. He’s also the only guy who ever bought me flowers after our first night together. It came with an extensive ‘thank you’ card.”

“Oh, Randy, you sweet little idiot…” Beau sighed affectionately.

“He never told you that?” you asked curiously.

“Ha, no. For obvious reasons.” Beau laughed. “But hey, it’s great material for my best man speech later.”

“Oh God,” you groaned playfully and laughed. “Just so you know, though, I’m gonna cut you off after fifteen minutes.”

Beau threw his head back, laughing loudly. “Alright, I hear ya. Your loss, though.”

You watched him for a moment when your laughs quieted down. He scratched his bearded chin, gazing down at his feet and making no efforts to move.

“Beau?”

“Hm?” His eyes found your arched eyebrow.

“Did you come here for a reason or just to chitchat?” you asked with curious amusement. He seemed obviously lost.

“Oh, uh, right! I’m supposed to ask you about the marriage certificate and the officiant thingy,” he remembered.

You smiled. “Tell Randy it’s already taken care of. He doesn’t have to worry about anything, okay?”

“Alright, I’ll-, uhm, I’ll do that,” Beau said and awkwardly cleared his throat, walking to the door.

“Oh, and Beau?” He spun on his heel when you called his name. “Make sure Randy doesn’t puke on his suit.”

An amused smile shaped on his lips at that, and he nodded. “Oh, I’m on it. Trust me.”

When Beau left your room and wandered down the hallway again, a weird sting plagued his heart. Deciding it was a feeling he didn’t particularly care for, he pushed it deep down, not even admitting his true thoughts to himself under duress and torture.

He’d feel like an ass if he ever did.

Beau looked up from his files on his desk when a knock ripped him from his reverie. It was already getting dark outside, the sun setting behind the mountains. He smiled up at you from his chair when you peeked your head inside.

“Hey, Jenny and I are back from the crime scene,” you informed him as you stepped inside his office, closing the door behind you.

“And?”

“It’s definitely the woman from the video,” you confirmed sadly.

“We got a name yet?” Beau asked, his face stern, concern and compassion carved into every crease.

“Yeah, Addison Hughes. Husband reported her missing four days ago in Jefferson County. I already talked to the sheriff there. They’re handing us over the case,” you told him and noticed his suspiciously cocked brow.

“Uh-oh, I know what that means,” he quipped teasingly. “Were you nice?”

You gasped in mock-disbelief at his accusation. “What d’you mean? I’m always nice.”

Beau snorted in amusement. “Uh-huh, that means no…”

“Wha-… Anyways,” you continued with a clear of your throat and a playful little glare at him, “Jenny and I talked to Mr. Hughes afterwards. He didn’t wanna admit that he cheated at first, but Jenny and I kinda went in on him till he fessed up.”

“Poor fella…” Beau muttered under his breath.

“Hm? What?”

“Nothin’. I said nothing.” He shook his head and gave you an innocent smile, but it didn’t stop your eyes from narrowing at him.

“Careful,” you warned and ambled over to his side of the desk. He pushed his chair back, making room for you between his thighs. “You don’t wanna defend a cheater. He got his wife killed. I have little sympathy for that.”

“Well, he’s definitely an ass for cheating, but even you gotta admit he didn’t really kill her. That’s still on the psycho running around out there,” Beau argued, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. You involuntarily clenched when his face was in front of your crotch.

“Fine,” you conceded with a roll of your eyes, sliding your hands up his arms till they locked around his neck.

“‘Sides, I kinda get how quickly a mistake can happen, you know?” he said thoughtfully.

You arched your brow. “Do you mean me with that?”

Beau’s eyes widened, immediately shaking his head. “What, no! I mean, yeah, a little,” he stammered. Your frown deepened. “Not like that, obviously. Just remembered some stuff today… But we never cheated. I know that.”

“Do you?” you questioned rhetorically.

“I do,” he assured you and took your hands in his, kissing your knuckles in an attempt to soothe you. “Just sometimes feels like I betrayed him, you know?”

“I know. I get that. But you did nothing wrong, okay? You did not seduce me and steal me away from him, nor did you take advantage of me when I was a vulnerable and grieving widow. I’m a grown-ass woman. I make my own choices. And I chose you like you chose me. After Randy’s death and all those months in Mexico, I fell in love with you, too.”

A coy smile clawed at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yes, you idiot,” you confirmed, your smiles matching.

He then pulled you onto his lap and claimed your lips in deep passion. You straddled his thighs and rocked against him, feeling the blooming erection in his jeans rub against your clothed cunt.

You unbuckled his belt and opened the zipper, Beau pushing down his jeans over his ass a little. Supporting one palm on his shoulder, your other hand climbed inside his boxers and grasped his dick. You thumbed his head and dribbled a few drops of spit down on his cock before moving your hand down his shaft, spreading it like lube on his velvety skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the backrest. With hooded eyes drunk with lust, one hand snaked under your shirt and pulled down the cup of your bra, palming and massaging your breast and rolling the nipple between his fingers. Your moan of pleasure was his reward as you pumped him with a tightening grip.

Both of you jerked up, however, as the door to his office suddenly flung wide open. Beau and you froze in your place, your fingers still wrapped around his cock, but luckily, neither of you was fully naked and your back hid most of the explicits. To your visitor, it just looked like an intense and very heated make-out session.

As you peeled your gaze over your shoulder, you recognized a woman in her mid-thirties who covered her eyes and quickly retreated through the door.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I’ll wait outside,” she excused and shut the door behind her again.

Beau gaped at you, green eyes wide in disbelief. “Y/N, did you not lock the door?”

You clasped your mouth with both hands, shaking your head with pupils as blown wide as his. “No, I thought everyone had already left when I came in here.”

“That’s the second time in three days,” he reminded you scoldingly. “Three days, Y/N! Twice!”

“I know! I’m sorry,” you whispered apologetically, still in shock, but a laugh of amusement escaped your throat. “Who was that lady?”

“I don’t know.” Beau’s brow furrowed in the same questioning manner as yours.

The two of you then sorted yourselves quickly, pulling pants back on and smoothing out shirts. You then stepped outside the office, where your female visitor was still waiting in the hallway.

“Uh, so sorry for that little, uhm…” Beau stopped mid-sentence, clueless on how to proceed and describe the scene while still sounding professional. “Anyways, how can I help you, darlin’?”

You threw him a small sideways glare at that and crossed your arms over your chest, Beau giving you one of his charming “can’t be helped” shrugs. Did he have to put so much flirt into it?

“Oh, uh, I apologize. I should’ve knocked,” the woman replied with a keen giggle, her cheeks blushing in fluster. She cleared her throat and regained her composure, introducing herself. “My name is Diane Newton. I’m the new DA for the Lewis and Clark Sheriff’s Department. I got assigned the serial killer case and wanted to look through your files on it. See what you’ve got so far.”

“Oh, uhm, sure,” Beau spluttered and swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind jumping back into work mode. Of course, it had to be the new prosecutor to find him with his pants down in his office. What a great first impression.

“Hi, uh, Sheriff Beau Arlen. Nice to meet you,” he said and reached out his hand for a shake. He then glanced at you. “This is actually Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N. She’s leading that case,” he introduced you before he nervously chuckled. “She’s, uh, my girlfriend. That’s why we, uhm… Wouldn’t want you to think that we-… I do this all the time.”

“No worries and no judgment here,” she said and waved off his concerns. “What you do after hours is completely your business.”

“Well, uhm, how about I show you the files now?” you offered and ushered her to your desk in the main room of the station.

“Oh, that’d be great!”

You threw Beau a wide-eyed look over your shoulder as you walked down the hall, mouthing “Why would you say that?” with a chiding shake of your head.

Beau only twitched his shoulders in a comical apology like a cartoon character and swiftly disappeared back into his office.

Diane stayed for two more hours before finally leaving. You went over every victim in Montana with her, not sparing any excruciating details, and told her a little about the other victims in the other states as well. By the end, you were exhausted and almost fell asleep at your desk, your head resting on the pile of files with closed eyes.

Just a few minutes…

“C’mon, let’s go home. You’re tapped out,” you heard Beau’s deep voice and soon felt his grasp around your arm, hoisting you gently to your feet.

You slung your arms around his neck and tiredly rested your head on his warm, broad chest, listening to his heartbeat underneath. He’d always been the best pillow. “Mmm, I don’t have a home here,” you murmured sleepily.

“Well, you know what they say, home is where the heart is, and I’m going back to my trailer, so…” He shrugged and grinned down at you.

“You’re such a dork,” you quipped. As you looked up at him, you bit your bottom lip. “You introduced me as your girlfriend earlier.”

He licked his smirking lips. “Well, you are my girlfriend.” His brow then creased momentarily. His insecurity was somewhat cute, you thought. “Right?”

You beamed and nodded, giggling. “Yes,” you confirmed and tiptoed up to plant a sweet kiss on his lips to seal it.

“How about before we go home, we finish what we started in my office,” he suggested cheekily and added, “I’ll even teach you how to lock a damn door.”

You snorted a small laugh and gave him another gentle kiss, this one lasting a bit longer and swinging with promise. “Alright. Teach me, Sheriff,” you agreed and smoothed your palms up his chest, smirking up at him.

“Oh, this just took a turn. Now, I know what I’m gonna do with you.” He chuckled wickedly and scooped you up in his arms, bolting down the hallway to his office as you squealed and giggled.

Chapter 5: Illicit Affairs – MAY 29

Will they ever learn? Probably not... 😆 We've had some juicy flashbacks these week... Past scenes that include Randy always make me sad 😭

More murder stuff and flashbacks next week! See ya 🫶

(Also I've been a bit slow with comments these days. It's been crazy busy life things, but I hope I can catch up with everything this weekend 🤍)

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[thealtoduck]

Being the Riddler’s criminal sidekick…

Tim Drake x Male Reader

Warnings: superhero violence, implied child abuse, horrible parents, mentions of sex…

Summary: Tim meets the Riddler’s sidekick for the first time and finds himself quite charmed by him…

——

How did you end up as the Riddler’s right hand man?

Well, the answer was simple: ”Why not?”

You grew up in a rough household, your father was an deadbeat alchoholic and your mother had left him for the divorce lawyer and his house in the suburbs.

She left you, she left you alone with the man that she was escaping from, imagine the impact that has on a childs psyche.

So from then on you followed one rule: Trust no one.

When you entered your teenage years you escaped from your father as soon as possible on to the streets of Gotham. Which is no place for a child.

Soon you found your way into crime which also led you to the Riddler.

You were at a bar looking for a new job when you saw the Riddler trying to convince a couple of men to join him as his henchmen. They however were not convinced to join him though as they didn’t like the idea that he quite literally gives clues for the cops and Batman to find him.

You however saw it as an oppurtunity, Riddler was already infamous and if he was this desperate for help it might lead to you getting a bigger cut of whatever scheme he had come up with.

So when the other men left you walked over to the Riddler and sat down across from him. ”Looks like your having some trouble, what if i could be of some assistance” you said. ”Yeah, because a teenager is exactly the muscle my operation needs” he said sarcastically.

”Oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t see the line of people wating to work for you” you said sarcastically.

The Riddler then smirked and said ”You’re in”.

He took you to his lair and introduced to his henchwomen ”Query and Echo” who were dressed as what could only be described as S&M biker chicks.

You went on to become the Riddler’s own sidekick, he gave you the nickname ”Clue”. You had become his close follower as well as one of the only three people who could sass the Riddler without getting shot.

He even let you nickname him ”Eddie”

Though getting this job wasn’t only sunshine and rainbows, it put a bigger target on your back by the authorities. After a botched mission you were arrested and became the youngest person ever sent to Arkham Asylum.

Not that you really deserved to be there you weren’t a mass murdering maniac but your close association to the Riddler probably made people assume you were… that or the judge was feeling extra pissy that day in court.

While in Arkham you met both Penguin and Two Face who offred you a job but you decided to stick by Riddler.

And you were right to do so as he soon broke you out of Arkham.

Then it was back to work…

Two years later…

You, Riddler, Query and Echo had stolen valuables from a museum, that you, Query and Echo were now trying to calculate how much you could sell it for. Meanwhile Riddler was gloating about his genius riddles and traps he had left behind for the dynamic duo to find.

As if on cue Batman and Robin smashed right through the window landing in front of you, Query and Echo. ”Oh, Batsy and Sparrow, what a surprise!” you said sarcastically standing up.

”But an unwelcomed one at that, get him girls” you told the two henchwoman who swiftly attacked the Batman.

”Robin, go get Clue, i’ll take care of these two and find Riddler” Batman commanded his sidekick. The black-haired superhero ran towards you. You grabbed a baseball bat and pointed the end towards Robin. ”Been a while Dove, i’ve missed you”.

”Do you have a list of birds just to avoid saying my name?” Robin asked annoyed. ”You tell me Peacock” you taunted. Robin brought out his staff and you started exchanging blows.

He managed to disarm you from the bat with his staff. So you ran up to him and grabbed his staff and ripped it out of his hand and threw it aside and you continued your fight.

Your fight had brought you to a staircase and you playing dirty as usual pushed him down it. Though unfortunately enough for you he grabbed your jacket and pulled you down with him. When both of you landed at the bottom of the stairs, both of you were now twisting in pain.

”Not my best idea” you said to yourself you said rubbing your forehead in pain. ”You’ve ever had one?” Robin asked equally in pain making you glare at him. ”Can we take like a 3 minute break?” you asked sitting up leaning against a wall. ”Can’t believe i’m agreeing to this but sure” Robin said as he did the same.

Both of you were sweaty and breathing heavily from your fight. ”So… how’s your day been” you asked casually slipping a cigarette in to your mouth and lighting it. ”Your really asking me that?” he asked semi-annoyed and very confused. ”Yeah, why not?, want one?” You asked, offering him a cigarette. He shook his head still very confused how casual you were treating this.

Robin then looked around and stated ”Gotta admit for a secret villain lair this place is quite cozy”. ”Right, Query and Echo decorated it, my room is right down the hallway to the right, they helped me put together an Ikea bed”.

”So i’ll ask again, how was your day?” you asked casually taking another puff of the cigarette. Tim was confused by the casual conversation the two of you were having but maybe this would be a good distraction.

”It was decent, got a coffee, finished some work and you know now i’m here” Tim answered. ”Cool cool” you said blowing some smoke. ”How was your’s?” Robin asked.

”Good, i stole some stuff, it was fun” you said cheerfully and Robin gave what almost sounded like a small chuckle.

You then stared at him and asked with a cigarette between your lips ”Wanna fuck?”.

”What?!” Robin questioned loudly starting to cough from breathing in the smoke. ”Sorry, i just heard Batman gets it on with Catwoman so i assumed you know…” you said putting out the cigarette.

”I mean it’s not like that, you’re attractive and stuff, it’s just you know bad guy and all that stuff…” Robin said making you laugh. ”Yeah, it’s fine Parrot, i get it” you said while laughing. You then stood up ”Well, i gotta get going, bye bye birdy” and you started sprinting through the hallway.

Tim stood up to run after you but you pressed a button on a remote making a bunch turrets appear from the walls targeting him. Tim ran up the stairs the two of you had fallen down as they started shooting. He ran back to the main room where Batman was cuffing Riddler to a chair.

”Did you get Clue?” Batman asked. ”No, he got away” Tim answered disappointed. ”Echo and Query got away too, they’re probably regrouping” Batman explained.

They left as GCPD arrived to take Riddler away and Tim thought back on what Clue had said to him more specifically the ”Wanna fuck?” part, he found himself thinking ”What if i said ”Yes””.

[sagephilosophie]

᭪ SHIO Y.

᭪ SHIO Y.

᭪ SHIO Y.

ʏᴀᴋᴜᴢᴀ! ꜱʜɪᴏ ʏᴏᴛꜱᴜʀᴜɢɪ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴡɪꜰᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

☂︎ Tags ⋆ ﾟ

Suggestive (starting under the cut), Arranged marriage, marriage of convenience, canon Yakuza! Shio (we don't talk enough about that though, what a wasted potential), mentions of children, mentions of gun violence, blood, established relationships, some drama. Enjoy <3

🌙 Yakuza! Shio whom you only got to meet on your wedding day, if you can even call it that, sitting beside him on his couch as his and your dad's lawyers finished signing document after document, and all there was to do was look back and forth between the men in the living room, including your dad, avoiding your gaze.

🌙 Yakuza! Shio that was neatly suited up for the occasion, his presence fragrant of musk cologne, and what could only get more luxurious and expensive than his rolex watch, is his attitude, having him lean on the couch-arm to rest his hand on his cheek while holding what appears to be a never ending glass of champagne in his other hand.

Such a game of indifference can be played with two, in your case, aside from your last name and residence, nothing was truly changing, and the arguments supporting how positive that was were weak, unlike on the opppsite side, where Shio did not have a speck of doubt how beneficial the marriage was, for his title, his pocket, and his relations, and that is all that was important, what ? Should the marriage be about someone else ?

🌙 Yakuza! Shio whom you followed with your eyes even as he was shaking your father's hand and congratulating him for their successful business deal, looking after him and his present men more than his bride who kept inspecting every little movement, from the way he loosens his tie from his adam's apple, to when he occasionally rubs his neck tattoo, and even as cracks his fingers one after one, something about all the little things he does you found, so, very, attractive.

🌙 Yakuza! Shio who told you of his need for kids as the Yotsurugi family's first son during your trip to the bedroom, you shouldn't have been surprised, but with everything going so shallow in this fraud of a relationship, you imagined you might never see him after this until his business with your father falls and he comes to hand you divorce papers, so the topic of starting a family, even if you're the only one looking at it in that aspect, it changed your expectations of what to come.

🌙 Yakuza! Shio who proved your judgement on his serious appearance wrong when he handled you with delicacy, worshiping every inch of your body that his lips came near, concluding the night by listening to his beating heart as you laid your head peacefully on his warm chest until sleep took over.

🌙 Yakuza! Shio that was no where to be found when you woke up the following morning, nor the day after it, nor any day of your honeymoon for that matter, he just vanished into thin air, and you were back to square one, left to be alone, until he feels like trying again for a baby.

🌙 Yakuza! Shio who was the first person to cross your mind when the sound of gunshots woke you up at the break of dawn, and however little the details you knew of his 'business' were, you were still capable of understanding it was the dangerous kind, the kind whete the odds of hearing shooting downstairs did not seem to be in Yotsurugi's favor.

🌙 Yakuza! Shio that nonchalantly walked through the door for the first time since the wedding night as if his face and dress shirt weren't covered in blood and that he wasn't holding a pistol, you were frozen in place, watching with wide eyes as he sat on his side of the bed, putting his gun down on the table, and if you had to be honest the silence spoke to you about his want to say something.

"Did i wake you up ?"

"...Is it yours ? Your... b-b-blood...?"

"..."

"My god..."

"It has nothing with you, don't think too much of it."

"You are... you are covered in someone else's... blood! "

"...Yes. And if you must know i... was protecting everyone."

"Protecting...? Protecting ?! Protecting who and how ??!! Tell me- tell me what is it that you do exactly, Shio... and- and why do you need a gun- and- and-"

"Stop. Asking. Stupid questions. You don't need to know any of that. I do what i do and you be grateful you are still safe and sound thanks to me..."

"To you ?!-"

"YES. ME!!!!!... And i am indeed protecting you and my family, weither or not you realise that. If i don't get rid of our enemies first, they will come for everyone related to my name!! I do what i have to do to keep everyone alive, and there is no turning back for me now... you might not have to worry about any of that, but that is all i worry about, how i'm keeping my siblings alive, my wife alive, my family name alive, it is what i do!!! I AM THE OLDEST!!!! I AM THE HEIR!!!! "

"Shio-"

"Everyone is so ungrateful... not just that old man, but also you!! I only needed an estate from your father and i got it, yet i still offered my protection, put you in my care, welcomed you into my home, i even let you in my bed, i did all that when i wasn't obliged to, and at the end, what ? This is what i get ?No... he made the wrong choice... from the beginning... i did the most for this family... they owe all their success to me and my efforts... I AM THE RIGHTFUL HEIR!!!!!!!!!! "

"Shio- what is happening- please-"

"I'll tell you what's happening, listen here and answer me... I dedicated my life for this family, their well-being, their place in society, their finances, their fucking existence, i keep all of that in place on their behalf, i do the most out of all my siblingd, and i risk my own life for the same reasons, then tell me... why did the old man choose that Tirasu brat over me as his heir ???"

"I... i don't know-" "I NEED AN ANSWER!! "

"Um...k-kids..."

"What ?"

"You told me... y-you wanted to have kids... because of your placement, um, maybe... you don't really... want, that as much as you... well... want to feel most eligible... as the heir..."

"..."

"I... um... were you ever, truly, happy ? With everything that... you have ?"

"That's not what i asked."

"I know... i know but i... i... did not realise how much you, aren't in charge, of your own life... you feel like it belongs to everyone else except you, right ?"

"..."

"...So do i."

🌙 Yakuza! Shio that let you put his head on your heart, he made no noise or further moves as you soothed him with touching his hair and keeping him still, listening to your heartbeats, in a finally peaceful scene that you can overlook the blood staining your clothes.

🌙 Yakuza! Shio who was a stranger on your wedding day, a nobody to you but another cage owner using you as a string tying his and your father's work.

Shio who also happened to be the man you learned more about than you knew to expect, under a harsh layer there was bittersweet one, that wasn't all that different from you, and wasn't about to let you give up on that marriage either, far from too late, if anything the timing was perfect, full of potentials to rise after getting to know the real him, the one that not even he dared to face, and with this renewed relationship, you can, finally, get to meet your husband.

@sagephilosophie

[ashwhowrites]

I need help! Are we wanting a happy ending with them getting together or them not ending up together? Let me know your thoughts

Here is part 2- not much that has action. More internal thoughts on both sides of the situation :)

never proofread

Eddie found himself back in a hotel room, again all over. His hands burned whenever he looked at them. The hands he put on his own kid. He was spiraling out of control. He did exactly what his wife was praying he would never do. And then added fire to it all when he lost control with Jake.

She told him to get a lawyer and he didn't know where to start with what she meant. Did she mean divorce? Fidning for custody? Was she going to turn him in him for putting his hands on their son? His brain was going a million miles an hour.

He should have known he couldn't just stop. He heard the story about Liam, he heard about the aftermath and how fucked up he became. Why did Eddie think he could easily avoid the addiction? That he could spend many nights getting high and just turn it off in a day?

He hates what Liam put Jake through, and he hates himself for doing it to him and Aria. He knew Y/N didn't deserve it either. She lost someone she loved to drugs before, and now it was happening again. He felt so damn guilty for putting her through this again. He can't imagine the nights she spent crying when he was at parties and blowing his life away.

She loved him and supported him with everything and he betrayed her in a way that was too close to home.

Eddie knew in his heart that his family was more important than the drugs. He knew he wasn't that far gone that he would choose the drugs over them. He just did a horrible job at showing it.

But he wasn't going to just give up. He had the time to get clean, he had places to go if the withdrawals were worse than he planned. He wasn't afraid to throw himself in rehab if that's what she wanted. He was going to get clean and stay clean.

He knew he had to make it up to Jake as well. All the games he missed because he couldn't get out of bed.

He wasn't going to be in any of Aria's birthday pictures, and one she will ask. He owed to make that up to her too.

And Y/N? He didn't know where to start with making it up to her. She welcomed Eddie into Jake's life and he put Jake in danger. That was unforgivable in many ways. And Eddie wasn't sure if that was something he could exactly "make" up to her. But he knew he'd never make his family feel scared of him again.

~~~

He called every morning, and every night. Sometimes she'd pick up, tell him about Aria's day but that was it. She never said a word about Jake and Eddie understood that. It's been a week since the fallout. He knew that he didn't deserve to even get to call her so he took every minute she gave.

Jake had a game this afternoon, Eddie was nervous to show up, but he refused to miss another game. He wanted to be better and this was a shitty step in the right direction. It wasn't much but he hoped it showed he was serious about being there.

He found Y/N and Aria on the bleachers, he respected their space and sat on the opposite side. He didn't want Jake to be distracted by him. He didn't want to upset Jake in a place he always felt positive in.

As the game went on, the more Eddie got invested. Kicking himself for missing so many games. He tried to keep his cheering low and to himself. Not wanting to alert anyone that he was there and make them all feel uneasy.

Jake's team won and he watched as the boy ran to Y/N, hugging her and talking all about his hits. Eddie craved to be there with them, and it hurt knowing he messed up. It was a reminder that even the little things were different because of his mistakes.

~~~

Y/N was used to being alone since Eddie was distant the whole time he was on tour, but this was so much worse. Knowing he was just blocks away and she couldn't feel him. It was like when she was being tortured, he was dangling right there, but everything was different. It wasn't easy, he messed up and it hurt her to make sure he was held accountable. She wanted her husband back and wanted to fall asleep in his arms. She wanted him to make Aria breakfast, and drive Jake to school.

She just wanted it to go back to the way it was before he left for that damn tour. Before he ruined everything and put them in this tough spot.

She almost felt like she was seeing him places. She felt like he was at that baseball game but when she looked he wasn't there. She shrugged it off and took Jake for his celebration ice cream. Aria blabbing happily in her arms.

~~~

As she got Aria settled for bed, she heard her phone ring. She set Aria down and pulled out her phone. Eddie's name and face flashed across her screen. She took a deep breath and answered the call. Allowing him to say goodnight to their daughter.

Once Aria was set for bed, she moved out of the room. Eddie nervously asked if he could talk to Jake. Eddie felt disappointment settle in when Y/N said that Jake refused. But Eddie accepted his answer.

"Thanks for answering, I love you." He held his breath as he waited for her to say something back. A tiny whisper of "I love you too," traveled through the phone. He felt himself smile as she hung up. It was small but it was something.

She got herself ready for bed, Eddie's side still left untouched. She wanted her husband and her family back. But there was a ton of damage done. She was worried they might not be able to come back from this. Would she look like a fool for forgiving him? Would she be a horrible mother for allowing him near Jake again? She had so many questions and hated she was the only one with the answers.

~~~

Jake tossed and turned in his bed. The picture of him and Eddie framed on his desk was taunting him.

He knew what Eddie did was wrong, but he missed him. He never saw his real dad and barely missed him. But Jake has missed Eddie since he left for tour. The Eddie that came home from the tour wasn't his dad, and he missed that version of Eddie.

He believed that version of Eddie was still there, inside him. How did he know?

He saw Eddie on the bleachers during his game. He still cared and he wanted to make up for his mistakes.

Jake wasn't scared of Eddie, he missed his dad.

~~~

Eddie was seconds away from passing out when he heard his phone ding. He blinked open his eyes and adjusted to the brightness on his screen.

"Thanks for coming today, dad"

Eddie smiled at the text from Jake.

He has a lot of work to do fixing himself for his family. But he knew he wouldn't stop until he did.

Tags!

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[jowrites]

Die for You- Jake Sim & Lee Heeseung Part 2

***Arranged marriage AU x Husband Jake! x Reader, friend Heeseung! x Reader***

TW: cursing, Jake is mean, sexual themes, suggestive themes, SMUT, aggressive sex, physical violence, unprotected sex, pregnancy, childbirth, mental health mentions: depression, suicidal thoughts, emotional cheating(sorta)

Read Part 1 Here

WC: 5,692

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2 Months Later.

Since that night, things with Jake have been worse. When he does talk to her he’s always frustrated and lashing out about things she doesn’t understand. She has tried to be nice and talk to him, try to make things right and better but he avoids her like she’s glass he’s walking on. The times he’s nicer and interacts are when they have to go meet their families or go to events, to which Jake is a master as playing pretend and acting like everything is fine. The moment they’re home he retreats to his seclusion leaving her once again to her own loneliness.

She tries to busy herself with her work, as her family is opening a new part in their Gallery which she is fully in charge of. She engrosses herself in her work to distract her from the turmoils of her home, which she thinks is now a lost cause. She was going to wait things out a little longer before she hits the family with the news of her divorce. She can hold it out a little longer, and focus on her work and art. Of course, the person who brings a lot of light these days is Heeseung. Most times she finds his text messages very sweet and she can meet up at the gallery or for lunch together. He’s been a rock she can lean on during this time and she’s much appreciative of his friendship and support.

She had started making plans for the upcoming months, things to announce and how she would tell her family about her divorcing of her husband. Just how her family would react. Of course, her brother knew and couldn’t wait. He had been encouraging her and as a lawyer himself, he couldn’t wait to put the Sim family back in their place. Especially his so-called brother in law. But now, as YN sits alone in her living room, the sun goes down as the weather outside gets gloomy matching how she feels. Everything she planned goes out the window now. 

She’s pregnant.

Not only was she pregnant, but she’s been pregnant with her husband's baby. The man she was planning to divorce in the upcoming months. She sat there crying and wallowing in her own sadness. She pitied herself. But this is what they wanted, right? This is what they were trying to achieve for their family's sake? To play pretend as one happy family. There was nothing happy about this home, or the life she lived. She distracts herself with work so she doesn't have to let her depression hold her captive and succumb to it. Just then, she looked over outside, just as the rain started coming down. She walked over to the window and overlooked the balcony. 

She didn’t want to bring a child into this home if it wasn't filled with love. This child didn’t deserve this. Would it be better if she just left? S she looks out onto the balcony, it looks so inviting. Would it welcome her with open arms and help her embrace the end? As she thought of that, she sobbed louder and pushed herself back. Sitting on the floor and moving as far away from the door as much as possible. She picked up her phone and called the one person who could make her better. The one person who knew how to hold her and care for her. Heeseung.

It wasn’t long until Heeseung was walking through the door. He walked into darkness, the only light being the entrance light from when he walked in. He quickly began turning on some lights to which he found YN’s small figure on the floor, her knees curling to her chest as she stared at the floor.

“YN,” he said, crouching down to her, his voice breaking. His heart broke from her. 

He did what he could only think and embraced her, pulling her into his arms and lifting her off the floor and taking her to the couch. He wiped some of her tears and placed a blanket over her. Her body and mind were numb and she just sat there, staring. He walked over to the kitchen and began to make her a cup of tea and got her some water as the kettle ran.

“Can you drink some water for me, please?” he asked, handing her the bottle and she grabbed it and sipped it slowly. He took it back, smiling and patting her head in reassurance. 

“I…I’m so ashamed,” she said, her voice cracking as she cried. 

“Why? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked. “Do you want to tell me?”

“I…I thought…” she tried to say it but all she wanted to do was cry. 

“It’s okay,” he said, pulling her into his arms and holding her. “I’m here, it’s okay.”

“I thought of jumping, Hee,” she said, whispering out and she could feel his body stiffen.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said. “YN…don’t you know how loved you are?”

She began to cry some more and Heeseung just held her tighter.

“I don’t want to bring this baby into a household like this,” she said. 

“YN, listen to me,” he said, pulling away and gently pulling her head to look at him. “No matter what happens, this baby will be loved. This baby will be cared for and have the best life. This baby is amazing and it could be just what you need right now. Please don’t give up or ever think like that again. This is so special.”

She nodded, the tears in her eyes coming down slowly. 

“They say babies can feel everything a mother feels and it could have consequences…Heeseung, I don’t want to be sad anymore,” she said.

“I promise you, I’ll make sure you’re never sad again, even if I have to beat some sense into that idiot husband of yours.”

*******************

“Well, at least she can’t leave me now,” Jake said, shrugging and sipping his whiskey.

“That’s what you’re thinking about? Seriously?” Jay asked, his brow raised. “You’re such a dick!”

“Sim Jaeyun!” Just then, Heeseung came storming into his office, his fists clenched and anger in his voice. He stormed over to Jake and grabbed him by the collar. Jay stepped in, trying to push Heeseung off which Heeseung quickly pushed Jay aside.

“What’s your fucking problem?” Jake asked.

“My problem? Mine!? What’s yours? You have a pregnant wife to whom you’ve done nothing but ignore and abandon and you’re asking me what my problem is?” Heeseung said.

“Yeah, exactly! That’s my fucking problem,” Jake said.

“You dick,” Heeseung said, punching Jake in the face and making him stumble back. “YN is not a problem! You’re the problem!”

“If you care about her so much then you should have married her!” Jake screamed.

“I should have! It should have been me! At least I would have loved her and cherished her for what she’s worth,” Heeseung screamed back.

Both Jay and Jake stopped in their tracks.

“What do you mean?” Jake asked.

“Oh man, I need a drink,” Jay said, quickly turning around and grabbing a bottle from Jake’s bar.

“Me, it should have been me! I wanted to marry her first! I love her!” Heeseung screamed, the tears in his eyes now falling. “And you, you don’t even deserve her and she’s miserable.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jake asked.

“You did it before me, it was already done,” Heeseung said. “But no, that doesn’t mean we can ignore the fact you’re awful to her. She doesn’t deserve this treatment and you either square up or I swear to God.”

“Jesus, Heeseung…” Jake said, sitting down and holding his jaw.

“And now she’s having Jake’s baby, how shitty,” Jay said.

“Yeah, how shitty,” Heeseung said with venom in his voice. “I want to hit you again, so bad.”

“Look, I-I know…things aren’t good between us…I just…fuck!” Jake said, standing up and walking around.

“Why do you act like that?” Jay asked.

“Like what?” Jake asked.

“Why do you treat her like that? Why do you push her away and not even try?” Heeseung clarified. “She at least has the right to know.”

“Yeah,” Jay said.

Exactly. Why was Jake this way?

When Jake got home, the lights were dim and the place was quiet. His jaw was sore from Heeseungs punch but he knew he deserved it. He deserved all the heat and to be now stuck to this life for the rest of his days. As he made his way through, he heard a voice. He stopped at the corner and saw her back facing him as she sat on the couch talking.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, but don’t worry…I’ll love you from the two of us. I promise to be happy so you don’t have to feel any pain. I promise I’ll take care of you and I won’t ever think that again. I’ll make sure you know what it feels like to be born from love.”

Jake couldn’t take it, he quickly turned away, inhaling and exhaling. His anxiety came out and he was doing everything to suppress it.

Get it together, Jake. Get it together, that’s your baby too.

Just then he stepped out into the living room, YN jumping from his presence and standing up. She turned around and Jake could see her puffy eyes and the paleness of her skin. She looked sad and he could only feel guilty.

“There’s some dinner in the kitchen if you’re hungry,” she said as she began walking away towards her room.

“Y-YN?” He called out after her.

“I’m going to bed,” she said, not stopping in her tracks.

“YN, please…” he pleaded, but she didn’t stop. She just closed the door behind her and Jake stood there, defeated.

Throughout the weeks YN had been ignoring Jake. Jake doesn’t even hear from her most times and the only time he gets a text from her is about the baby. Heeseung is over a lot and ignores Jake just as much. He will sit back and watch as Heeseung cares for his wife, the way he should be caring for her. Jake always steps back and when he thinks of doing something for YN, Heeseung is always one step ahead of him and doing it first. He feels like he lost and he didn’t know what to do about it. This has been going on for a month now, YN and Heeseung. Never Jake and YN.

“I think I should give up,” Jake said, twirling the ice in his glass, his head placed on his arm resting on the table.

“Like…give up on life or…” Jay asked. “If you plan to sign off from life, I’d rather you not tell me about it. My subconscious wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of not stopping you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jake said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh,” Jay said.

“I meant on YN…she’s made it clear she wants nothing to do with me now,” he said.

“Oh, okay now you’re making sense,” Jay said.

“It will always be Heeseung now, and maybe I should let it happen,” Jake said.

“You’re a coward, Jake,” a voice said, startling Jay in his seat. 

“Dude, you have to stop barging in like that,” Jay said.

“What are you doing here?” Jake asked, sitting up and frowning at Heeseung.

“It’s my bar? Besides, we need to talk,” Heeseung said.

“Is this when you tell me you’re taking YN away and I’ll never see you two or the baby ever?” Jake sighed.

“Not at all, as much as I want to, but no,” Heeseung said.

“How could you, Heeseung? You know how much I hate cheaters and you just go and sweep in like that and help my wife cheat,” Jake said, clenching his fists.

“First of all, she didn’t cheat on you, second of all, you deserve this treatment. It’s exactly what you did to her, is it not?” Heeseung said.

Jake went silent, understanding all too well he deserved this.

“You’re such a coward, Jake, and you don’t deserve her. But, as much as it pains me to say this, she needs you. You need to man the fuck up and start acting like a real partner,” Heeseung said.

“I’m trying, she doesn’t let me in,” Jake said.

“You’re not trying. Don’t think I haven’t noticed when I’m there and you just step back and not even insert yourself, do you think she wants this?” Heeseung said. “YN is my friend, Jake. I care about her a lot but she’s made it very clear to me that me and her are friends and no matter what she’s still staying loyal and devoted to you.”

“Doesn’t make any sense, maybe she is crazy,” Jay said and Heeseung gave him a look and he shut up.

“She hasn’t replaced me?” Jake asked.

“There was nothing to replace, you neglected her from the start! If you just tried from the beginning you wouldn’t be so miserable,” Heeseung said. “I’m not here to fix things between you two, and a part of me still prays for your downfall but I care about YN and I know what she needs. I want her to be happy and if that’s with you then you better make it fucking happen. I’m leaving, make sure you fix this, Jake. I won’t hesitate to punch you again.”

Heeseing stood up, glaring down at Jake before nodding to Jay who waved as Heeseung walked away.

“Man, you better listen. Heeseung just did you a solid.”

Jake was surprised to see YN home in the living room. She was sitting on the floor, her hair up in a messy bun and Jake couldn’t help but smile to himself at how nice she looked. Jake has never had issues with her looks, he always found her beautiful. But now as he looked at her, really looked at her, he could see why everyone praised her. She wasn’t beautiful, she was ethereal. He understood it now and he slowly walked over and took a seat on the couch and saw that she was cutting up pieces of magazines.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Hm? Oh, didn’t hear you come in,” she said, ignoring his question.

“I’d really like to talk if you're okay with that?” he asked, sitting down on the floor in front of her.

“I’m listening,” she said, not looking at him but gluing some pieces to a scrapbook. He realized she was scrapbooking.

“YN…I’m really, really sorry for everything. The way I’ve treated you this past year…I’m so sorry and I want to make things right between us. I want to fix this,” he said.

“Fix what? We don’t have a relationship, remember?” she said. “You didn’t even give us a chance.”

“I know, and it’s all my fault…I was being a coward and I was being selfish. I was angry and I took it out on you and for that I’m sorry,” he said.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why?” he asked, not understanding.

“Why did you feel that way? Why did you marry me?” she asked.

“My dad…look, things weren’t doing well and I was taking one for the business and I was angry. I was really angry at my father that I had to do this for his own mistakes, and I felt like I was losing my dignity and freedom and I hated it. I wasn’t angry at you, but the situation and I took it out in the worst way possible, on you and you didn’t deserve that. I’m so sorry,” he said, pleading.

Just now that he got that off his chest, he realized just how much he messed up. And Heeseung was right, he was a coward.

“Mm, understandable. Doesn’t justify anything though,” she said.

“I know, I’m not here to make excuses. You don’t even have to forgive me. I just want to make things right…I want to be here for you, for our baby…I want to try. You’ve been nothing but nice and I never once hated you. I hated myself,” he said.

“I forgive you,” she said.

“I’m really-wait, what? You do?” he asked.

“I don’t want to hold onto anything that will only bring me pain, the baby needs to feel only happiness and love and I need to stay in this mindset for her,” she said, smiling down and holding the small bump of her stomach.

“Her? It’s…we’re having a girl?” he asked.

YN nodded.

“I found out today,” she said.

“Oh my God…we’re having a girl!” Jake reached over and pulled YN into a tight hug, catching YN off guard. “Oh, sorry…I just got excited.”

“I couldn’t wait, I wanted to know as soon as possible,” YN said.

“Can I come next time? I would like to be there for the next appointment and every other after,” he asked.

“Yeah, it’d be nice if you came for once. Heeseung came a few times and my doctor would be glad to finally see the dad,” she said.

Heeseung. Jake had to know.

“Heeseung…look, I totally understand if you cheated and if you have feelings for him, I get it and I probably deserve it,” Jake said.

“Oh, never,” YN said. “Just like you promised, I promised too. And Heeseung, I care about him but he’s only a friend. We’re great friends and he’s been amazing the past few months.”

“Oh thank God…I hate cheaters,” Jake said, sighing in relief.

“Why do you hate them so much? I mean, I understand but, the way you talk about it…” YN said.

“My dad…he cheated on my mom with multiple women and it killed her. Literally, that’s how she died by taking her own life,” Jake said. “I promised I’d never get like him and did everything to avoid becoming him. But here I was, always quick to fix his messes.”

“Oh, I had no idea. I’m sorry that happened,” YN said.

“I work for the company and try to fix his doings but it’s getting exhausting and I’m tired,” he said.

“Then stop, quit,” YN shrugged, going back to her scrapbooking.

“I don’t think…I don’t think that’s possible for me, I’m supposed to take over the company in a few years,” Jake said.

“Sure you can. Sell the company, it’s not doing well anyways, right?” she said. “You can work for mine.”

“Yours?” Jake asked.

“Jake, did you know the terms your father got when you married me?” YN asked.

“No, actually…I thought he just got money to get out of his debts,” Jake said.

“He signed it over to my father in 2 years time,” she said. “My fathers company is going to completely take it over and run it as a subsidiary. Your father, you, will have 10% while my father has 90%. It won’t be yours anymore.”

Of course. Another dumb move on his father’s part. 

“So you’re telling me…” Jake said, frowning.

“This was all a waste,” YN said. “You weren’t saving the company for your family, you saved it for mine.”

Jake closed his eyes and exhaled loudly, his head going low.

“It wasn’t all a waste,” Jake said, finally looking up at YN.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I got a beautiful and kind wife, and a baby girl out of it,” he said, smiling at her.

She blushed and smiled back at him, nodding.

“I promise, going forward everything is going to be different. I want to get to know you more, be here for you…for our baby. I’ll even die for you if I have to, so please don’t give up on this,” Jake said. “Let’s fall in love.”

**************************************

4 Months Later

The past few months were busy. YN and Jake spent a lot of time getting to know each other, going on dates and getting to know each other's quirks and hobbies. YN finally understood Heeseung now, Jake wasn’t just an entitled, spoiled chaebol. He was actually humble, funny, and very kind. Extremely different from the first year of their marriage. Jake had a great personality and he was extremely attentive and smart. He ended up quitting his father’s company and switched sides, getting a job working under his father in law now, taking YN’s advice.

Most days he gets off early and will pick YN up at the gallery, which had a successful opening of the new exhibit. YN’s passion for art inspired him. He learned she was artistic herself and was an incredible painter. Her father opened the gallery for her and her love for the arts. Every year they give out scholarships through their foundation to students who want to pursue the arts and Jake really loved that. He had a passion for playing the violin, which he had to give up to do business under his father’s demand. He still craves the strings and bow, the sounds it makes and the rhythm. He yearns for it, but holds himself back as it is too late.

Jake and YN were much happier. They were both putting in the efforts to build their life together, and feelings were growing. Jake was ready to throw himself at her feet, but he was going at her pace and taking things slow. He respected that. Heeseung was still very much involved, Jake could see how he had a different relationship with her, and he always felt proud about it. But he was also happy YN had a friend like Heeseung in her life, and the time he wasn’t there for her, he was glad Heeseung was there to hold her up.

YN was nearing her 8th month, the both of them preparing for the arrival of their baby. YN and Jake still had separate rooms, but the past couple months YN has found herself in Jake’s bed more and more. Most nights, when she aches and is uncomfortable Jake is right there helping her get comfortable and giving her body massages which have her going to sleep. He doesn’t mind it, he actually really likes that she’s been sleeping with him and he hopes she feels comfortable moving into his space fully soon. 

The two of them are currently sitting in the baby's room, finishing up the last touches. YN was on the floor folding some clothes they received from the baby shower held the day prior, as Jake was finishing up putting up a shelf. The room was pretty, with neutral light colors and bunnies spread around. They decided to go with a subtle bunny theme, Jake giving the baby the nickname “bun” and it just was cute and stuck with them. YN was really excited now, knowing she was going to be well loved.

“There, done!” Jake said as he finished up, putting the drill down and looking at YN, who sat there in her own world. “What’s on that mind of yours?”

“Hm? Oh nothing, just look how cute these are, they’re so small. Is she going to be that small?” YN asked, holding up a onesie.

“She’s only what? 4 pounds now? She seems small, but babies are small,” he said, taking a seat next to her and admiring her.

“She feels like she’s more, that’s for sure,” she said.

“I can’t wait to meet her, I hope she looks like you,” Jake said, reaching over and rubbing her belly, feeling the slight kicks. 

“Why just me? It’d be cute if she looks like us both, I think,” Yn said.

“Because you’re beautiful, she should be just as beautiful as her mama,” Jake said, leaning his head on her shoulder, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing circles on her stomach.

“You’re very nice looking too, don’t sell yourself short,” Yn said, placing her hand on his.

“Hm, but you’re better,” he said. “I’ll have the two prettiest girls in my life, and I can’t wait.”

“She’s kicking a lot today,” YN said. “She kicks a lot when you’re around, it’s like she knows.”

“I hope she knows, it’d be a real shame if she didn’t,” Jake said.

“She does, she gets excited. But it’s late, she should be sleeping now so her mom can rest soon,” YN said.

“Hey, little bun,” Jake said, leaning down to her belly, making YN giggle. “Mommy needs to go to sleep soon, it’s time for bed.”

“She just kicked again,” YN said.

“She’s already rebelling against authority, oh God,” Jake groaned.

“Good. She’ll be her own person, making her own choices,” YN said.

“Of course, she’ll have the best life,” Jake agreed. “Hey, YN?”

“Hm?” She looked at him and met his eyes. 

His stare was so intense and they had this softness and sincerity behind them.

“I know she wasn't created based on love, but I hope you know she’s been blossoming because of love, and that’s important to me too…and I love her, and would die for her…just like I love you and would die for you,” Jake confessed. 

After all these months, the two of them have yet to share that confession with each other. Until now, Jake stepped up and pushed away his worries. He learned a lot in the past few months, and came back to himself and his senses. And he was grateful.

YN reached up and held his face in her hand, him automatically leaning into her touch.

“I love you too, she’s going to love you as well,” YN said.

Jake leaned in and captured her lips in a kiss. This was the first kiss since that night, the two of them solidifying their loyalty and love in this kiss. It was intense and passionate, slow. Jake had his hand in her hair holding her face to his, pulling her closer to him. This felt right, everything felt right in this moment. All their worries, the past, was gone. And the future looked bright and full of life. This was meant to be. 

When YN pulled away, she giggled at him as he pouted, her fingers coming up and touching his lips, which he kissed them.

“You’re so cute,” she said.

“I wasn’t done,” he said, pouting.

“There will be plenty more kisses, trust me,” she said.

“I hope so…which reminds me, move in with me?” he asked.

“Uhm…we live together?” she said, confused.

“No, I meant like in my room. You sleep there anyways and we are married after all. Move your stuff into the room and share it,” Jake said.

“Okay,” she said. 

“Yes! Let’s get this baby to bed,” Jake said, getting up and lifting YN off the floor.

“Jake, I’m heavy!” She said and he shook his head.

“Not even. Plus, I’m strong,” he winked as he carried her to their now shared room and placed her on the bed.

“Thank God for that.”

*********************************

Around 2 Months later

“Oh my God,” YN moaned out in pain.

She was currently in a nightgown, her body hunched over the bed as she felt another contraction hit her. It was currently 3 am, and Jake and YN were currently at home waiting for their midwives to arrive. Jake was by her side, rubbing her back as she moved her body back and forth, breathing out and trying to ride out this contraction. Heeseung came back through the door with more towels in his hand and placed them on the bed and floor.

“I don’t know what these are for, but since you asked here you go,” He said.

“Thanks, are they here yet?” Jake asked and Heeseung shook his head. “Heeseung, you’d help me deliver this baby if we need to, right?”

Heeseung’s face went white and Jake could see the anxiety rush through him and shook his head.

“Oh my God, you guys are so dramatic,” YN said, standing up and continuing with her breaths. “It was just a contraction.”

“They’re getting closer together, love, you might be ready to push soon,” Jake said.

“I am not going to traumatize Heeseung like that,” YN said.

“I appreciate it,” Heeseung said, folding his hands together in grace towards her.

“You guys are so loud, and why is YN yelling?” Jay came into the room, rubbing his eyes.

“YN’s water broke,” Heeseung said,

“Holy shit! Well, I’m out, good luck!” Jay said, turning to walk away before Heeseung could grab his shoulder to stop him.

Why were Heeseung and Jay over? Simple. Jake had a boys night, last one before he became a dad and they passed out on his couch. Jake was woken up by YN an hour ago because her water broke and Jake immediately went to the plan. It was already planned to have a home birth and have aid by the midwives, so this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. They just needed the midwives. The sound of the doorbell rang and Jay immediately went to open it. In walked a frantic Sunghoon and behind him were YN’s parents. Jay stepped aside as they rushed in, asking if she had the baby yet. Jay didn’t sign up for this chaos.

“Where is she? Is she pushing?” YN’s mother asked as she rushed in down the hall. “Heeseung, Jake, oh dear, are you okay?”

“Oh, hi mom,” Yn greeted, YN’s mother coming up and kissing her cheek before greeting Jake and Heeseung as well.

“How are you feeling? How’s the baby?” YN’s mom asked. 

“Are you ready to be a dad? You have an even bigger duty now, Jaeyun,” YN’s father said, coming up and squeezing Jake’s shoulders. “Oh, Heeseung. Didn’t see you there. Wait, Heeseung?”

“We had a boys night and she went into labor,” Heeseung explained.

“The midwives are here, I’m gonna go. YN and Jake, congrats and good luck!” Jay said, walking into the room and waving, just as the 2 midwives came in behind him.

“Hey mom and dad, how are we doing?” Hanna, one of the midwives asked.

“Oh thank God,” Heeseung said. “I’m gonna wait outside.”

“I’ll join you, you were drinking, you said?” Mr. Park said, following Heeseung out.

“I’ll make you one,” Heeseung said.

“Ah, good man! Good luck, YN…Jake don’t pass out!” Mr. Park yelled out just as the door closed.

“Oh thank God,” YN said, sighing out and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“A bit chaotic, huh?” Joan, the other midwife said.

“Too chaotic,” YN said.

“Jake, how’s her contraction times?” Hanna asked, just YN started groaning in pain from another one. Joan immediately going and aiding her, along with Mrs. Park.

“They’re about 6 minutes apart,” he said.

“Great, should we get in there and see what’s going on?” Joan said, putting on some gloves.

Marisol Sim was born a couple hours later. Her soft cries filled the room after YN’s last push and the midwives quickly got to work, cleaning her a bit before placing her on YN’s chest. YN and Jake couldn’t hold in their cries as Jake sat behind her, kissing the top of her head and praising her unconditionally. She was so small, so quiet even with her little cries. She was absolutely perfect.

“Congratulations! It’s a girl!” Joan exclaimed. “Dad want to come over and help with the umbilical cord?”

Jake nodded, wiping his tears and gently removing himself from YN, which he did not want to do but he had other things to do.

“Jake, she’s perfect,” YN cried.

Hanna helped YN clean the baby up and soon she was wrapped in her little diaper and blanket. YN was cleaned up and placed back in bed and the midwives finished up and left. YN’s mother stayed and cried along with them, amazed at her new granddaughter. She wanted to give the two some privacy and so she exited the room to walk the midwives out and show her appreciation. The sun was coming up by now, the sun illuminating the room and Jake couldn’t help but snap a photo on his phone at the sight in front of him. YN in bed, holding their baby.

“Do you want to meet your daughter?” YN asked, looking up at Jake.

Jake came over and held out his arms. YN gently placed him in Jake’s arms as Jake held her in front of him, gently rocking her and looking at her with the softest eyes. He couldn’t control the tears that came out of his eyes. 

“She’s perfect, baby, she’s absolutely perfect,” Jake said, crying harder now as he smiled down at her. YN cried and reached out for them. Jake came over and sat with YN as they looked down at their daughter together. He couldn’t believe just over a year ago where they were and now they’re in their bed, together, full of unconditional love as they share the love with their daughter. This baby really did change things for the better.

“I want another one,” Jake said, suddenly.

“Not gonna happen for a while, that was brutal,” YN said.

“You did so well, baby, I’m so proud of you!” He looked over and gave her head a quick kiss.

“We both did, didn’t we? We came together and got our shit together right on time, for her,” YN said.

“Shh, baby, language!” Jake said.

“Oh please,” YN said, rolling her eyes.

“But you’re right. She changed everything for the better. I love you both so much!” Jake looked down and saw YN was looking up and smiling at him. He leaned down and kissed her in a passionate kiss.

“Okay, coming in, let me see my grandbaby!” Mrs. Park announced herself, opening the door and walking in with Heeseung and Mr. Park behind her. 

Heeseung smiled at the sight, Jake and YN together with their baby. It didn’t sting as much, YN was happy and that’s all that mattered to him. Jake got it together and was an incredible man to be with her. He was proud of his friend. Jake looked up at Heeseung and the two of them smiled, both of them understanding at that moment. Both of them would absolutely die for them.