#and on a high profile case like this she would have gotten a good lawyer pro bono im p sure

[3liza]

brianna boston charges dropped!!! i fuckin called it they KNEW that was a bullshit charge

[azuramarigold]

Let's Write A Story Together

Maya Fey is a famous author that has gotten herself into some trouble - someone is leaving letters at her home and gifts at her events claiming to be a secret admirer. Obviously creeped out and paranoid she turns to her lawyer sister who refers her to her junior associate, Phoenix Wright, to help Maya with the case.

Day 3 of the AU-gust Writing Challenge - "Writer"

** TRIGGER WARNING: There is stalking involved! **

Day 3 of the AU-gust Writing Challenge - this one being "Writer"! I chose Maya to be the main character as the "writer" as I've read many fanfics of her being a fanfiction writer herself for "Steel Samurai" lol

AO3 DAY 1 DAY 2

Day 3: Writer

No one told her that her life of being a famous author was going to be this extreme.

            Maya Fey was a Young Adult fiction writer – famous for writing romance novels based on spirit mediums in a reclusive village and young samurais that acted almost like princes to said mediums. It was something of a fantasy that she thought she would have since she was a little girl since she grew up in a small town and wished to be whisked away by a knight in shining armor.

            It started with small writing competitions that she did in middle school and high school. She won some awards. Her sister encouraged her to continue her writing and creativity. Maya ended up going to community college and got a small degree in creative writing and literature.

            After a few years of short stories being published that were not too successful, she decided on a novel instead. It was an overnight sensation to the point where people demanded sequels – so that was she did. She wrote a few sequels and they ended up being turned into a small television series that did a cross-over with the “Steel Samurai” TV series.

            It was amazing to be recognized for once for her talents in her writing. Maya felt on top of the world.

            That was until she kept getting many gifts and letters from a “Secret Admirer”. It really freaked her out as it was going directly to her loft and didn’t have her address written on it. Maya found that she was looking over her shoulder constantly, eyeing every event to see if there was anyone out of the ordinary.

            After three months of constant paranoia, she finally had to ask her elder sister – Mia Fey – for legal advice as she was a lawyer.

            “A stalker situation?” Mia mused when the two were in her office at “Fey and Co. Law Offices”. “I’m afraid I personally can’t take your case due to conflict of interest…”

            “Aw… really?” Maya whined.

            “My junior partner can help you though,” Mia informed with a smile. “He’s still a little new but I think he can help you out.”

            “New?” Maya questioned skeptically. “Hasn’t the guy been working for you for a few years now?”

            “He had to take some time off the last couple of years,” Mia mentioned with a grimace. “He’s getting back into the swing of things.”

            Maya gave a groan, “So, you couldn’t give me a referral to Grossberg or even Diego…?”

            Mia rolled her eyes. “You met Phoenix one time, cut him some slack,” she lightly laughed. “He’s a good guy.”

            “He said he didn’t like samurai stuff…” Maya pouted as she crossed her arms.

            “Do you want a discounted, low-profile case or not?” Mia sternly asked her little sister, suddenly cutting off her playfulness.

            Maya jolted. She would much rather have this stalker case on the down low. “Okay… fine… when is he in?” she finally sighed in defeat.

            “Oh, I’m free right now actually,” a low voice said from behind her chair.

            Maya yelped as she spun around to see Phoenix Wright standing behind her. He was much taller than her, about a foot and a half, and broad shouldered. As always he wore his traditional blue suit with black dress shoes and a red tie. However, since the last time she had seen him - which she’ll admit has been a few years - he had added a pale blue almost gray waistcoat underneath and his suit wasn’t buttoned up all the way. In the left breast pocket of the jacket, he had a golden chain that was sticking out that was peculiar.

            “Nice to meet you again, Ms. Fey,” Phoenix greeted with a small smile. He still had his jet-black spiked hair, but this time he had a stubborn piece that was sticking down his forehead. It took all of Maya’s willpower to not try to slick it back as it was annoying her. In the last few years his jawline squared up a bit more with age and maturity, however, his dark blue eyes still sparkled with the same immature wonder that he had when they had first met.

            “Uh… likewise, Mr. Wright…” Maya replied meekly. She felt herself slump down her chair, resisting the urge to pull her light purple rain jacket over her head to hide in embarrassment.

            Mia gave her younger sister a sly look. “Well… I must go investigate a crime scene,” she announced. “Phoenix, you have the key to lock up when you’re done if you finish the consultation early – don’t work too hard you too!” She then gathered her white leather purse and gave a wink and clacked away out of the office with her white heels.

            Phoenix gave a sigh, “Alright, we can head over to my desk over here…” He then led Maya to a smaller desk in the office that was an oak brown. It was still nice, but not nearly as extravagant as Mia’s. He had a small laptop that was open, and a few legal pads spread about; there were more doodles of random characters than there were legal notes, however. There were a couple of picture frames on his desk, but they were facing him so Maya couldn’t see who they were of. “So, a stalker, huh?” Phoenix then asked casually.

            “Uh… yeah…” Maya admitted wearily.

            “I usually do murder cases,” Phoenix wistfully said, twirling a pen between his fingers. “But might as well nip it in the bud before it turns into one, right?”

            Maya grimaced. “If that was your attempt of a joke… that was in poor taste…” she told him with a deep frown.

            Phoenix made a face. “Uh… sorry… that was my bad…” he sheepishly whispered as he rubbed the back of his head with a free hand. He then went over to his laptop. “So… about five books in your series, huh?” he commented with a low whistle. “That’s impressive… I think the last time we had talked you had only two…?”

            “And now I’ve also written three mini novellas,” Maya smirked confidentially.

            “My daughter likes the TV show, and she loved the crossover with the ‘Steel Samurai’,” he said offhandedly. Phoenix then realized what he said and then immediately tried to backpedal, “Oh, what I mean was-”

            Maya gasped, “I didn’t know you had a daughter!”

            “She’s… adopted…” he explained slowly. “I adopted her a couple of years ago after a trial went south…”

            Was that what Mia meant that he took a couple of years off…?

            “What’s her name?” Maya asked lightly.

            Phoenix glanced over from his laptop. “I’m sorry?”

            “Your daughter… what’s her name?”

            “Trucy…”

            “Oh, that’s a lovely name!” Maya complimented with a smile. “How old is she?”

            “She… just turned ten last month.”

            Maya gave an awkward chuckle, “Oh, good thing you said she was adopted because you look way too young to be a dad to a ten-year-old!”

            Phoenix gave her a side look with a small smirk. “Yeah… I’ve been told that…” he mentioned. He did a few clicks on his laptop, which Maya had to suppress a giggle as he was comically slow at it as he used one finger at a time to type. “Okay… when did you start noticing the stalking?”

            Maya put her hand to her cheek. “I don’t know… maybe five months ago…?” she guessed. There was slow typing. “It was a couple of letters at first… I noticed my address wasn’t written on them and they were all the same handwriting…”

            “No return address either?” Phoenix pressed lightly.

            Maya nodded. She then continued, “Then there were flowers at random book signing events. I thought they were from the venues until I noticed it was the same handwriting…” She then started to rub the upper part of her arms as though she were getting a chill.

            “Have there been any incidents at your book signing events or book tours?” Phoenix then asked curiously. “Or at any of your tours involving the TV show?”

            “I… don’t think there was anything odd…?” Maya confessed, her putting her head in her hands. “It’s just… really creeping me out. I know a lot of die-hard fans go to most of my events… I recognize some people’s faces… but could one of them really be a creepy stalker?”

            Phoenix gave a small shrug. “You’re famous and we are in Los Angeles… sadly, even someone of your stature could end up being crazy,” he pointed out.

            “I’m not crazy!” Maya shouted angrily.

            Phoenix raised his hands in defense from his laptop. “I didn’t say you were!” he insisted, his mouth twisted in a frown and his eyes furrowed angrily. “I just said someone of your stature – as in petite and cute!” Again, he realized what he said as a blush crept on his cheeks. He shook his head violently. “Anyway, first things first – we don’t have any useful information here to file a petition of a restraining order.”

            “A… restraining order…?” Maya echoed.

            “That is correct,” Phoenix said. “It is the first line of defense against a stalker. Unfortunately, depending on the stalker, they end up breaking it. However, because they do it is immediate jail time.”

            Maya raised a brow. “What… if it becomes violent…?” she asked in a small voice.

            Phoenix shook his head. “Oh, I won’t let it come to that…” he assured.

            “And how so…?”

            “Because I have a little girl that happens to know a few… tricks and we are going to find out who your stalker is right away and rest assured, they’ll never bother you again, Ms. Fey!”

            “Maya.”

            “Hmm?”

            “You can call me ‘Maya’, Mr. Wright.”

            A chuckle escaped the attorney. “Then, you can call me ‘Phoenix’.”

            She tapped her chin. “Nah, I think I would rather call you ‘Nick’,” she told him, noticing his eyes widen slightly.

            “Uh… okay…”

            Maya didn’t hesitate to sign on the dotted line of the contract that Phoenix had drafted up for her.

**

Maya didn’t get anything from the stalker for two weeks – which she thought was strange.

            Phoenix had stopped by her loft the couple weeks after the consultation per Maya’s request since she was out of town, his ten-year-old daughter in tow with a box of magic props in both of their hands. The girl was dressed in a magician’s uniform complete with a black unitard, pink cape with a teal diamond clasp, white gloves, white boots, and her brunette hair tied back and under a pink top hat. Her ocean blue eyes were large and round, filled with wonder and excitement.

            “Oh, hello,” Maya had greeted the young girl. “You must be Trucy, right?”

            “I’m Trucy Wright, yes!” the small girl beamed, trying not to chuckle at her own joke.

            Phoenix gave a laugh. “She loves that her last name is a pun now…” he explained to Maya, him rubbing the back of his neck nervously with a smile. He was not wearing his blue suit that she was used to seeing him wear. Instead, he wore a light blue, short-sleeved button up with jeans and white sneakers.

            “Are you going to be my new Mommy?” Trucy asked suddenly. “You’re very pretty like Daddy says you are!”

            Maya was taken aback by the sudden question, feeling her eyes go wide. “Wha…?”

            Phoenix slapped a hand over his daughter’s mouth. “HA HA HA!” he forced a laugh. “Aren’t little kids adorable!?” he stressed with a forced smile. With a low hiss Maya could hear Phoenix say to Trucy, “Trucy Artemis Wright… how many times did I say on the way over here not to mention that!?”

            “At least twelve, Daddy!” Trucy happily squealed loudly.

            Phoenix took off the girl’s hat and patted her head. “Okay… now go rig what you have to rig, my little Magical Girl!” he told her with a wink.

            “Okay, Daddy!” Trucy went off like a whirlwind.

            “Uh…” Maya then said nervously.

            Phoenix gave a small jump. “Oh, I’m sorry about Trucy!” he apologized. “She just… get’s excited when meeting a new person!” he explained gently. “Especially if they are a woman…”

            “How many times did she try to ask my sister to be her ‘Mommy’?” Maya asked slyly. Mia was a drop-dead gorgeous woman with assets in all the right departments to boot with intelligence and a great job– of course Trucy would get attached and want someone like that in her life.

            Phoenix gave her a confused look. “Huh? Oh, none…” he told her honestly, him giving a light chuckle as he scratched behind his head again.

            Maya gave a surprised look. “Wait… what…?”

            “She was ‘Aunt Mia’ right on the spot,” Phoenix shrugged.

            Trucy finally came back by the front door and was putting her final touches. She had apparently rigged a pully system from the front door that would alert Maya if someone was there. In turn a mechanism would activate and cause blue dye to explode from a balloon that was rigged behind the mail slot on her door. A camera would take a picture that was rigged in the corner of the doorway.

            “Wouldn’t it have been easier… to get a doorbell camera…?” Maya offered, a slight frown tugging her lips. “I could’ve done that from the get-go.”

            Phoenix and Trucy looked at each other.

            “Then that wouldn’t be as fun!” Trucy shouted with a pout. She then took off her hat and pulled out a rubber chicken to put next to the door. “For good luck!” she stated as her father rolled his eyes, not understanding how a rubber chicken would be for good luck.

            “Anyone can be caught on a camera,” Phoenix pointed out as he crossed his arms. “But the blue dye will really catch the culprit! Can’t miss someone with a bunch of blue!”

            Is that why he wears a blue suit for court…? He’s a good-looking guy but sometimes he’s a little out there in the head…

            “I have a regular mail carrier, you know!” Maya snapped at him, finally getting angry. “And what about guests that drop by?”

            Phoenix grimaced. “Shit… I forgot about that…”

            “‘Plan B’, Daddy?” Trucy offered sadly.

            “Yeah…”

            A piece of mail went through the mail slot, causing Trucy’s contraption to go off. The loud scream of the mail carrier pierced their ears as Maya opened the door. A large man was in front of the door, a large splotch of blue die on his face and on his mail carrier uniform.

            “Ohmygosh, Mr. Carrison!” Maya gasped in shock. “I’m so sorry…!”

            All the mail carrier did was hand the rest of her mail personally, one of them a personal letter and told her a young man from downstairs handed it to him to give to her, turned his heel, and left. Maya stood in her doorway dumbfounded as the letter was in her hand.

            “I’ll… deduct the cleaning bill you’re going to pay for from your legal fees…?” Phoenix meekly offered.

            Maya only looked at the letter in her hand – again it was her name and no address. It was the same handwriting from her stalker.

**

Maya sat in a bookstore at a table with a stack of books next to her – it was the last one in her series she had written, and the store asked her to do a signing.

            It was a smaller store – and she loved going to the smaller places to help them boost their business. When it was a little slower, she was typing on her laptop, working on the next book in her series, sipping on green tea with a bit of honey.

            “Can you sign a book for me, Ms. Maya?” a familiar small voice asked.

            Maya looked up from her laptop to see a familiar pink top hat. Trucy was bobbing up and down, clutching in her hands the first book in Maya’s series. Phoenix was standing behind Trucy, him glancing slightly away.

            “Oh, of course Trucy!” Maya said excitedly to the young girl. “Is this the first time you’re reading one of them?”

            “Yes, it is!” Trucy squealed giddily. “I really like the TV show! But Daddy says that the books are always better then the movie or show!”

            Maya glanced over to him. “Did he now?” she asked with a small smile. “Well… your daddy is ‘Wright’.” She gave Trucy a small wink, which caused the young girl to giggle and Phoenix to roll his eyes, but Maya saw the smirk on his face.

            “Thank you, Ms. Maya!” Trucy said happily as she took her newly signed book and trotted away.

            Maya closed her laptop and pushed it aside. “So, how did you know I was going to be here?” she asked Phoenix when she noticed he didn’t immediately follow her. She gave a devious smirk, “Am I sure you’re not my stalker and trying to just make a quick buck off of me by being my lawyer?”

            Phoenix gave her an exasperated look. “Oh, ha ha…” he sarcastically laughed. “As much as that would amuse you, Trucy learned about this event from her school.”

            Maya raised a brow, knowing that there was more.

            “And Mia mentioned it too.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

            When Maya was about to say something smart back at him, there was a small commotion of someone stumbling through the aisleways. Someone was knocking into the bookshelves, some books falling to the ground and being kicked away. In the person’s arms was an array of different balloons and an arrangement of flowers.

            “Got a special delivery for a Ms. Maya Fey,” the person announced, a male voice. He began setting stuff on the table and he immediately gawked at Phoenix. “Yo, Nick! How have ya been!?”

            “LARRY!?” Phoenix shouted in surprise. “What the hell are you doing here!?” he then demanded.

            Larry gestured at the items as though it were obvious. “Uh… delivering?”

            The delivery man, Larry, was tall and lanky, his light brown hair sticking off to his right side messily, and his goatee was kept neatly trimmed. He was wearing a navy-blue jacket with a logo on it that depicted him from a delivery service along with wearing a pair of jeans and sneakers.

            “Oh, hi again…” Maya greeted with a small wave, she looked slightly nervous and offput.

            Phoenix shot her a look. “You’ve… met him before…?”

            Maya gave a shrug. “He’s always the one that delivers this stuff at my events…” she informed him as she looked for the sender’s card.

            “Well, I’m off!” Larry announced with a grin. “More deliveries!” He promptly left.

            Maya grimaced as she saw the card with the handwriting. “Really!?” she gasped in shock. “Again!? Why…!?”

            Phoenix then took the card from her and for once really examined the handwriting. His eyes immediately furrowed in anger. “Oh… that son of a bitch!” he growled.

            Maya jumped at Phoenix’s tone. “Um… hey… what’s the matter…?” she then asked him gently.

            “I know this handwriting…!” Phoenix told her, his voice tight. “Can you watch Trucy for me for a… an hour or two?”

            Maya glanced over at Trucy, who was sitting at a table a few feet away happily reading.

            “Yeah… I can watch her…”

            “Thanks, I’ll be right back.”

📓📓📓

Phoenix was pounding on Larry Butz’s door – his fist repeatedly colliding against the wood.

            He had run back to his apartment and dressed in his blue suit and grabbed his briefcase. As he heard Larry grumble that he was on his way to the door, Phoenix adjusted his tie with his now sore hand. It was taking everything he had not to bulldoze his way through into the apartment.

            The door opened and Larry appeared, no longer in the delivery “uniform” but in his light orange jacket and white t-shirt combo.

            “Oh, hey, Nick!” Larry greeted him with his dopey smile. “What’s up, man?” Phoenix then proceeded to pull out a letter from his briefcase and handed it to Larry. “Uh… what is this, Bro?”

            “A restraining order,” Phoenix lowly said. “Follow it very well.”

            “A… restraining order!?” Larry squawked in shock as he began to read it. “From Maya Fey!?” He looked up at Phoenix. “Aww… dude… why? She’s so cute!”

            Phoenix glared at him with a clenched jaw. “Stalking,” he simply said.

            “S-Stalking!?” Larry sputtered. “I-I have never done that!”

            Phoenix gave a wolf-like smile. “Oh… really?” he simply asked. He then proceeded to pull out the few letters of many that Maya had received over the last six months. “Then what are these?”

            “Anyone can send letters, Nick,” Larry huffed, crossing his arms.

            “With the same handwriting as you!?” Phoenix demanded angrily. “No address to her whatsoever!? Flowers and gifts at every event she has!? And you happen to be the delivery driver!?” He then pulled out another record that he pulled up at his work laptop at home and printed before coming to the apartment. “Let’s see… you started your delivery job… oh wow… six months ago…! But you were fired after tapping into addresses for personal gain.”

            Larry’s brown eyes widened. “Hey, man!” he shouted as he threw open his door wider. “Everyone at that job did that, not just me!”

            Phoenix scoffed, “Yet, you’re the only idiot that was caught?”

            “Dude!”

            “Don’t ‘Dude’ me!” Phoenix screamed, throwing his papers at Larry. “You were stalking her! For what!?”

            Larry scratched his cheek. “Well… she’s pretty cute… I’ve said ‘hi’ to her, but she really didn’t want to talk to me… so I expressed my feelings through letters…” he explained in a small voice, putting his two forefingers together.

            Phoenix wanted nothing more than to punch Larry in the face.

            “Why are you caught up with her anyways, Nick!?” Larry then demanded. “You seemed pretty cozy with her!”

            “I’m her lawyer!” Phoenix explained, his face flushing red.

            “Oh, people’s lawyers just go to their events with their daughters and buy their stuff!?” Larry threw in his face. “And go to their lofts to hang out off the clock? I think I recall you mentioning you thought she was a nice little thing a few years ago when you first met her!”

            Phoenix had enough and punched Larry in the jaw. “You’re talking about my boss’s little sister!” he shouted, feeling his heart pounding in his ears. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

            “Dude… what the fuck…!” Larry groaned in pain, rubbing his face.

            “Follow… that restraining order!” Phoenix growled through clenched teeth. “Or you’re going to jail, Butz.”

📓📓📓

“That description sounds a lot like my Daddy!”

            Trucy was reading over Maya’s shoulder of what she was typing on her laptop. Maya’s face immediately turned crimson as she slammed her laptop shut.

            “What…!?” the raven-hair author stammered. “N-No, it isn’t!”

            Trucy crossed her arms and looked slightly to the right. “Ms. Maya, that was a terrible lie…” the young girl pointed out. “You clutch at the hem of your shirt when you lie… you know that right?”

            Maya just stared at the young girl with wide, dark blue eyes. “Uh…”

            “My little girl is perceptive,” Phoenix’s voice interrupted as he joined her at her small table.

            “Oh, you’re back!” Maya said happily, a smile on her face. She then noticed that Phoenix was cradling his hand. “What did you do…?”

            “That asshole stalker isn’t going to bother you anymore…” Phoenix muttered. “Just like I said…”

            Maya gaped at him. “What… did you do…?” she repeated, this time her voice stern, trying to sound like her sister.

            “I punched Larry in his damn face,” Phoenix nonchalantly said.

            Maya put her face in her hands. “Nick… why…?” she whispered.

            “I gave him the restraining order first…” he pointed out.

            “Then you should’ve left it at that!” she insisted, her voice going high.

            “Not when he was going on about trying to validate why he was doing it!”

            Maya then slapped Phoenix’s now swollen hand. The attorney hissed in pain and tears sprung into his eyes. “That’s what you get!” she scolded him angrily. “You big dummy!”

            “OW!” Phoenix whined, him bringing his hand to his chest.

            Tears were Maya’s eyes too. “But… at the same time…” she then whispered softly, just barely loud enough for Phoenix to hear. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me…” She then took a deep breath and decided to just go for it. She leaned forward across the table and pressed her lips against his. “Thank you…” she softly said.

            “Is that a tip for my great service or…?” Phoenix murmured against her lips with a smirk.

            “That’s later…”

            Trucy then sprung up between them from the side of the table. “As much as I want a new mommy, Daddy, this is gross as I am ten,” she told him, her hands on her hips.

            “TRUCY!” Phoenix yelped as he jolted backwards, his chair tipping as he collapsed onto the ground.

**

Ten months later and a new book in Maya’s series was released – it being the conclusion.

            Either consciously or subconsciously she had written this plot based on her recent events. It was about a spirit medium who had gone and met a man from a samurai village – who wasn’t a samurai that studied fighting physically but studied law instead. The young maiden got herself into trouble with another samurai who tried to entice her with nice gifts and sweet written words, but she refused the advances as the other samurai was an unknown entity.

            The samurai who studied law offered his services to the young spirit medium, along with his young daughter who studied magic, to find the culprit who was causing the maiden such distress. Come to find out, it was the friend of the law samurai – and the betrayal caused a duel to the death where the stalking samurai was slain as the law samurai was passionate for the maiden and wanted her protected. After the duel, the law samurai asked the spirit medium’s hand in marriage, and it was accepted.

            “You know, they’re calling this your weakest work,” Phoenix commented after reading a review from an online blog.

            Maya, who was sitting on one of the red couches at Fey and Co. Law Offices with Trucy, braiding the young girl’s hair, only gave a shrug.

            “They just have to read in-between the lines,” she huffed with a smile. “And… done!” She informed Trucy that her hair was done, and the small girl jumped off the couch excitedly.

            “Thank you, Maya!” Trucy said happily as she ran off to the reception area of the office.

            Phoenix gave a smile as he saw his daughter run off. He looked back at his laptop. “They don’t know if they want to include this one in the next season of the show…” he remarked to Maya. “I think it’s the best one!” He gave her a large smile.

            Maya rolled her eyes. “That’s because the main male is based off of you, you dummy,” she laughed at him as she poked his cheek when she approached his desk.

            “Needs more law though…” Phoenix commented with a sigh. “I can help in that department…”

            Maya gave a small glance down to him. “Well maybe in the mini novella…” she pointed out. “We can add a court scene to it…”

            “Oh…!” Phoenix beamed happily. “That would be fun!”

            “And… there might be a surprise in there too.” She then grabbed his hand that was on his desk and placed it gently on her stomach.

            “And… what…?” he asked in confusion. “Are you hungry…?”

            She gave him a hard glare. “No…” Then she gave it a second thought. “Well… yeah, I am… but that’s not what I’m trying to say!”

            Phoenix raised a brow. “Okay… maybe spell it out for me…?” he told her. “I need some incriminating evidence on what you’re trying to tell me here, hon…”

            Maya dropped his hand from her stomach and stalked over to her purse and began to search. When she found what she was looking for she threw it as hard as she could to Phoenix with a loud “TAKE THAT!”

            A white stick smacked him across the face and landed on his lap. As he picked it up and looked at it Trucy came back into the main part of the office with Mia in tow, her excitedly talking about a magic show performance she was going to do.

            “Wait… your pregnant!?” Phoenix shouted at Maya in shock, finally clicking together what she had been alluding to.

            A loud squeal erupted from the young girl in excitement as she literally tossed Mia’s hand away from her own. “A new main character, yay!” Trucy cheered as she ran up to Maya and threw her arms around her gently, her cheek affectionately on Maya’s still flat stomach.

            “Yes, Nick…!” Maya happily informed as Phoenix had gotten up from his desk and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, burying Trucy between them.

            “Daddy…!” Trucy complained. “I can’t breathe…!”

            Mia gave a small smirk as she went to her desk, happily eyeing the small, but growing family. “Can’t wait to pre-order that book,” she laughed blissfully.

Notes:

- Will I ever expand upon this? Perhaps... I enjoyed this concept. - Why did I choose Larry as the "antagonist"? Because... Larry. Think about it, in the FIRST GAME WITH THE FIRST CASE he went to Cindy Stone's apartment and was trying to bug her when it was obvious she was no longer interested in him. He is superficial when it comes to dating. In "Trials and Tribulations" he had even mentioned the reason why he wasn't in "Justice for All" was because he FOLLOWED A GIRL TO JAPAN and he was dumped. In the games he's not "creepy stalker level", but he had potential to get there, he was just "dumbass energy". - In this fic I would say Phoenix is about 28-29 while Maya is about 21-22.

[visit-ba-sing-se]

Tyla Scott was sitting in her office and stared at the laptop screen. Of course, it would have been possible to just project the files she was reading over her desk, but Tyla was old fashioned like that. And she had been doing her job long and good enough that no one would dare to mock her for it.

One reason why she was doing so well in this gama was that she always had avoided cases like the one in front of her. The case of Mr. Finch.

Mr. Finch, the middle aged man with a white mustache and ill fitting suit. Mr. Finch, the father of 3 children and former gardener. Mr. Finch, who had been so nervous about their meeting that he brought his wife to it.

Tyla sighed. That meeting had only taken place anyway because her assistant Johanna had to big of a heart. Tyla did not blame her for it. She had been young, idealistic and fresh out of law school once, too. It would wear off. And the case was interesting, no doubt. But it was a also too risky and too high profile, not to mention that she would have to work pro bono. All risk, no pay. Her name and reputation would be on the line for what basically amounted to community service. And yet, Tyla could not help but stare at the files again. The facts of the case were quite simple. LX provided implants that substitute or improve all kinds of bodily functions. Costumers pay a certain price for the implant itself, and an extra fee to keep the services running. Mr. Finch had had to rely on multiple of such implants after an accident with, somwhat ironically, one of LX's self driving cars. What he did not have was the money for it.  Still, in March of this year, he had gotten a NeuroLink brain implant. In June, however, he had fallen so far behind with all payments that LX threatened to cancel their services and demand all implants back. Which would consequently kill Mr. Finch, who now for that reason was seeking the states protection.

Given that killing another human was generally against the law, the case at first glance seemed quite clear. But not for LX's lawyers. They did not, as one might expect, argue that killing Mr. Finch would be justified. Instead, they denied that, in turning the NeuroLink of, a human would be killed.

Of course, no one denied that Mr. Finch once had been human. But now, where more than 50% of his bodily functions, including the generation of brain waves, were automatically operated, LX claimed him to be a robot. And a robot could not be killed, just turned off.

As cynical as it was, the argument had some reason to it. You could be a living human in one moment, and a dead body in the next. The difference between murder and corpse desecration in that case would only be the matter of seconds. It was all about where the law decided to draw the line. And in this day and age, Tyla really was not sure how that line would look.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a small thudding noise. As she looked up to see where it had come from, Tyla saw that a little sparrow had landed on the window sill. She wanted to believe that it was a real bird, despite the odds being otherwise. When the biodiversity crisis had lead to the house sparrow nearly fully vanishing from European cities, hauntingly life like animatronics were introduced to occupy it's spot in the ecosystem. They looked, acted and sounded just like original, and they even came with a bonus: Artificial sparrows did not shit. A great advantage for statues in town. Still, Tyla preferred the original version. Maybe because they had been such a frequent sight when she was still a child. Or because they reminded Tyla of her mother, who used to love leaving some nuts and oats outside for "our little friends" during winter. Or, to put it plainly, because  after all she was just a sentimental idiot. Tyla sighed and turned away from the window. She knew that she was wasting time. Time that could - and seriously should - be put to a good use for her paying clients. But then again, how good was that use, really? Tyla thought back to Mr. Finch and his wife. To the way her voice had cracked during their conversation, and that he had reassuringly taken her hand. To how he had nervously stirred his coffee and hectically apologised after some of it had spilled onto the table. How his eyes had lit up when talking about his children. "How muach of a human' body can you replace with cybernetics before they are legally declared a robot?", he had asked then, with an accent as thick as his eyebrows. Tyla had not had an answer then.

A knock on the door interrupted brought her back to the present. "Yes?" "Ms Finch?" It was Johanna. "I have your coffee and the files you asked for." "Thank you." Tyla assumend that she would just leave the chip card and mug on her table. But that did not happen. Instead, Johanna remained standing still and staring at the  window. Something there seemed to have caught her attention.

"Is that.....bird shit?"

What a world we live in, Tyla thought, where bird shit is so exciting that forget to watch your language in front of your boss.

"It seems to be, yes," she said, not being able to hide a slight amusement for her voice.

"I just...I was just surprised because I thought they were all gone at this point. And I will of course make sure that window gets cleaned."

Johanna blushed and quickly handed Tyla her coffee and the card.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Ms. Scott?"

"Yes, actually, there is. Call Mr. Finch. We are taking his case."

“How muach of a human’ body can you replace with cybernetics before they are legally declared a robot?”

[becca-e-barnes]

Take Care of Everything

This is my first ever fic for a writing challenge omg I’m so excited! Huge congratulations to @balenciagabucky for hitting 3K followers!! That’s such a huge milestone and thank you for organising such a fun challenge! So excited to read the rest of the submissions 💗 @dulceslibrary

Pairing: Personal Assistant! Bucky Barnes x Lawyer! Reader

Word Count: 3.5k maybe?

Summary: There’s only one thing in your life that your PA doesn’t take care of

Warnings: Smut, praise kink, pet names, protected sex (go me for writing something safe sex for a change), court mention, lil fluff, mile high club

Minors, do not interact.

“Un-fucking-believable.” You couldn’t stop the roaring boil of the blood in your veins, storming out of the court room with your long black gown billowing behind you. Being one of the top barristers in the country brought it’s fair share of high profile cases but this one had got on every last nerve in your body and you were out of patience.

The case itself wasn’t the problem. The issues were straightforward enough and applying law to fact, at the most basic level, your client had done nothing wrong. It should have been essentially cut and dry. The problem was the opposing council and the lack of intervention from the judge.

The prosecution had torn your witness to shreds. You had tried to warn the poor woman beforehand, as you did with every client, but on the stand, she had just crumbled under such an intense and downright ignorant line of questioning.

It shouldn’t have even been allowed in the first place. The judge should have stepped in and clipped the opposing council’s wings but the damage was already done and now you would have to pick the pieces up when court resumed on Monday.

“How did it go?” Your personal assistant must have been leaning outside the courtroom door for who knows how long, his suit somehow as neat and pristine as always, despite the fact it was the end of the day.

“Fucking dreadful, Terry was an asshole to Andrea and she lost it. Should’ve known he’d pull shit like that, he’s always a cunt on Friday evenings.” You practically spat the words out, heels clicking on the floor as you made your way down the marble hall to collect your things and begin to put an end to this miserable week.

Part of you almost wanted to laugh at how Bucky had developed the skill of being able to keep up with your pace without even having to look up from his blackberry. That only came from years of practice.

“Terry loves playing with fire. Fuck him. If anyone can put him in his place on Monday, it’s you.” Bucky still hadn’t taken a second to pull his nose up from his phone, his steps landing in perfect time with yours until you reached the chamber at the end of the hall, throwing the heavy wooden door open in front of you. Bucky filtered in behind you of course, closing the door behind him before slipping his phone neatly into his pocket.

“Thought your doctor warned you about your blood pressure? You gotta calm down.” Bucky’s face showed he was genuinely concerned, his eyebrows knitted together in disdain but there was nothing new there. He had worked for you for years now and truth be told, he was damn good at his job, not to mention the fact he was the closest thing to a friend your busy schedule allowed you to have.

“I’ll calm down when I’m dead. We need to get to the airport if we’re going to make that flight for the convention.” You pulled your wig off, setting it neatly into the little wooden closet before removing your gown, hanging it up alongside the other worn ones from earlier in the week so they could all be dry cleaned and back in the closet for Monday.

“It’s a private jet honey, it can’t leave without you.” Bucky laughed softly, knowing you were worked up and hoping a little joke would ease the tension.

You had to admit, you were so thankful for Bucky. He was devoting the prime of his life to making sure you had everything you needed, your life only felt so seamless because Bucky made it that way. He didn’t just manage your calendar and fetch you coffee like any other PA, he lived and breathed you. He went everywhere with you, crashing in your spare room at least three nights a week because you had both worked yourselves to exhaustion. He never missed anything. He had a solution for every problem, nothing was too big for him to tackle and given the chance, you two could absolutely take over the world one day. You confided in him, and he in you, getting to know every tiny detail of his life in the past few years, right down to that fact that neither of you had seen your family or been on a date in months. Hell, he’d went as far as buying you a packet of batteries one Monday after a particularly long and stressful court hearing.

“Here, got you these.” He had smiled mischievously as he handed them over to you, chuckling a little at your confused expression. “For your vibrator. Looks like it’s gonna be a long week.” You took them gratefully, joking with him that you really would need them, tucking them into your handbag and damn were they appreciated. The following morning he had asked how you had got on and you could only laugh. You didn’t tell him how thoughts of him had come into your head right as you had gotten close. Similarly, you didn’t tell him how painfully intense your orgasm had been when you imagined him on the bed with you, watching you come apart against the plastic toy. You could just picture his hungry gaze, watching how your body gushed as you released, nipples pebbled from arousal and your lips parted, a single whimper of his name escaping you as you rode out your high.

No, that was a little secret you would keep to yourself. He didn’t need to know your dirtiest fantasies. He was an employee. An employee that often arrived at your bedroom door shirtless and smirking, holding a stack of freshly made pancakes on the mornings he stayed over at yours but an employee nonetheless.

—————————

The cab ride to the airport would have been silent if it hadn’t been for the gentle tapping of your thumbs and Bucky’s racing over your respective phone screens. You had at least two dozen emails left to reply to and your eyelids were beginning to get heavy, the body heat radiating from Bucky in the cab’s back seat making you drowsy. You took a second, squeezing your eyes shut to force away the tiredness before going back to typing relentlessly.

The trip to the airport was short, Bucky had competed the preflight checkin so you essentially stepped straight onto the plane, taking a seat by the window, with Bucky taking the one opposite you. Takeoff was smooth as always, your phones picked back up as soon as it was safe to do so. But with the glowing screen came a fresh wave of drowsiness, your eyelids threatening to close of their own accord.

“Shit, Buck did you pack my -“

“Glasses? Left side of your bag, under the tissues.” Bucky finished your sentence for you, not looking up from his phone.

“And my -“

“Eye drops? In your makeup bag.” There it was again. What surprised you most was that Bucky didn’t even need to see you to work out exactly what was wrong.

“Do you really just take care of everything?” You huffed out a little laugh, digging through your bag, finding both your glasses and eye drops exactly where he told you they would be.

“Everything but you.” He chuckled, finally setting his phone down.

“What do you mean ‘everything but me’? All you ever do is take care of me. You organise my shopping and dry cleaning for god’s sake.” The whole notion of Bucky doing anything but taking care of you was just insane because you sure as hell didn’t have time to do any of those things for yourself. That’s what you hired him for after all.

“I didn’t mean like that. I meant like really take care of you. You’re so damn up tight.” You knew by the little chuckle that accompanied his words that he meant it affectionately but it still made you slightly defensive.

“I’m not up tight.” You protested. Normally you would’ve let harmless comments like that slide but the combination of your shitty day and the fact you were so sleepy made it impossible to not seek out conflict. This was the life you were used to after all. A life of treating almost everyone you came across adversarially. It was second nature to you at this point, inside and outside the courtroom.

“Come on, you seem to forget I am your calendar. You think I don’t know you haven’t gotten any in months? You should get laid, that’s all I’m sayin’. Wouldn’t kill you to have an orgasm every once in a while.” The words roll off his tongue like it’s nothing and truth be told, if you were in better form, this would have been a perfectly normal conversation between the two of you. Neither of you were particularly shy when it came to talking about your hookups.

You hated how right he was. You hated that you hadn’t been touched in months and Bucky knew that. You hated that most days, you were too exhausted to bother tending to your own needs. And you hated the warmth spreading through your body at the thought of Bucky finally taking care of you.

“Don’t know Buck, an orgasm might actually kill me with my high blood pressure.” You needed this conversation to turn more light hearted and you needed it fast, before your head became so clouded with need that Bucky picked up on it.

“I mean, I handle everything else for you. Wouldn’t even mind if that became part of my remit.” You almost couldn’t believe how carefree and nonchalant this whole conversation seemed, Bucky hoping you missed how he cock twitched in his trousers. Of course you didn’t. You missed nothing.

“If what became part of your remit?” You quizzed firmly, trying not to give anything away but knowing your eyes had gone big and doe-like, entirely of their own accord. This was a dream come true.

“You. Actually taking care of you. However you need.” His stare was intense, watching you keenly to determine whether he had horrendously overstepped and was about to get fired.

“Why would you even want to?” Your voice carried every single ounce of confusion you were feeling, staring Bucky down with an intensity that mirrored his own in that moment.

“You’re far too smart to act dumb.” He replied softly, knowing it was all or nothing now. If he was getting fired, he might as well be honest. His head tilted downwards, drawing your attention to the bulge growing in his suit trousers. Years worth of need and longing bubbling over all at once.

“If you want this, tell me. If not, that’s fine. But it doesn’t need to be anything romantic. Can be just sex. Whatever you want.” He was doing his very best to stay calm, his brain finally catching up with his mouth and considering that he was now in way too deep to just apologise and about to get his ass handed to him at thousands of feet in the air by one of the best legal minds in the world.

You’d never wanted anything more in your life. It was almost like Bucky was dangling himself in front of you. A piece of meat before a lion that could be snatched away at any second. You weren’t going to give him the chance, professionalism be damned. You were out of your seat and onto his lap in a flash, your pencil skirt hiked up to allow you to bracket his legs in your own.

“Are you sure about this?” Your quizzed softly, giving him one last chance to back out before you lost all self control.

“Do I feel like I’m not sure?” His voice was almost a choked whisper, his hands landing on your hips to press you down against his stiff cock.

You’d never seen him like this before. Horny and needy and losing himself in the feeling of you on top of him after years of fantasies. He had tried to curb the fantasies but his body didn’t allow him to. You were all he could think of on those lonely nights, a hand wrapped around his cock, groans and whimpers escaping until he came over his hand, a cry of your name pulled from his lips. He thought you would never know. And now here he was, the woman of his dreams perched in his lap, asking to be taken care of. Even the filthiest parts of his brain couldn’t have come up with this.

He could never have dreamt how you moved forward so tentatively, your lips hardly even touching his. He was used to seeing you confident, in control, the calmest person under pressure and yet here you were, unsure of yourself for the first time, he imagined, in your life. You both kept your eyes open for a little while, your lips sliding together gently, getting a feel for one another, up until your teeth sank into the plush skin of his bottom lip and an actual groan left him, his eyelids fluttering shut. The sound could’ve made you quiver with need. It was so alarmingly sexy, knowing your huge, sexy PA could be taken apart with the smallest touches. Suddenly, this seemed to be as much, if not more, for Bucky’s benefit than your own.

“Thought this was for me, hm?” Somehow your condescending court voice was pushing him over the edge. You felt one of his hands come up, tangling in your hair while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your core flush with his clothed cock. He kissed you with a burning intensity that made your head swim and your pussy throb, loving how he was taking control but still hurtling further into a breathless, needy state.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve thought about this. Didn’t think we’d be joining the mile high club.” He huffed out a little light laugh, using his grip on your waist to help you roll your hips over his growing erection.

“Couldn’t have been thinking about this for as long as I have.” You smiled softly, letting out a little gasp as his cock nudged you just right through your panties that you were sure had been soaked through already. His eyes went wide at your admission, his dick twitching deliciously underneath you.

“Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, making you laugh at how eager he was.

“I won’t be able to wait until we’re off this plane Bucky. You gonna fuck me right here?” You teased him softly, your faces so close, your tiny hands running down his pristine shirt, toying with the buttons. When you began to graze his chest gently with your nails, it was like a switch flipped inside Bucky. He thrust up against you with a growl loving the yelp you let out, one hand now squeezing your ass, the other massaging your breasts through your blouse.

“Gonna fuck all the stress out of you. Gonna have you leavin’ this plane leakin’ and cockdrunk.” Somehow you didn’t even doubt his words and you had to admit, it did sound quite appealing to give up the control for a while, just letting Bucky take over.

“Gimme all you’ve got Barnes. Gotta make it worth my while or this is gonna be the last time you get the chance.” You couldn’t help but tease him before instantly realising that might have been a mistake, his lips burning hot as they worked against your own, needy, insistent and as always, eager to please.

His mouth was relentless to the point that you found yourself practically dry humping his cock, your hands laced in his hair while his untucked your blouse from your skirt, greedily holding onto any skin he could reach. He tasted of peppermint and coffee, smelt like the expensive aftershave you were so fond of and felt like a man who’s only purpose in life was to make you cum until it hurt.

“Need you. ‘Nside me. Now.” You managed somehow to pant the words out between the fervent slide of his lips over yours, his tongue dipping in to taste you, never wanting this to end.

The feeling of your much smaller hands landing on his belt buckle made him look down but he could’ve cum then and there at the sight that met him. The front of his suit pants were slick with your mess, proof that he wasn’t just dreaming and you really were needing this just as badly as he was.

“You’re so fuckin’ ready for it aren’t you? Look at the mess you’ve made. Why didn’t we do this years ago?” He was groaning, shifting in his seat to help you get his trousers and boxers down. You couldn’t help how you gasped a little at the sheer size of him, his cock thick and long, the head slick with precum, proud veins running up his shaft. He looked Godly. Two firm pumps was all it took to have his head thrown back against the plush leather seat, cursing and bucking against your hand, aching for more.

“I’m sorry Buck, I can’t wait any longer.” You panted, his lips attached to your neck now, kissing, licking and sucking all his frustration into your skin. If there was a time for foreplay, that wasn’t it. Neither of you had the patience right now.

“Thank God, needa feel this pretty pussy.” He all but whispered as you lined him up at your soaking entrance.

“Shit Bucky, you got a condom?” You asked anxiously, stilling yourself at the last second.

“My bag, zip compartment at the front.” He replied quietly and sure enough, that’s exactly where you found a packet. Tearing the wrapper off, you slid it down his length earning another groan from the huge man who was practically shaking beneath you.

“You think of everything.” You giggled, finally beginning to slowly sink yourself down onto him. Your laugh quickly turned into a breathy moan, your breath mingling with Bucky’s and you noticed how he made a very similar noise. You pressed yourself down slowly, your body having to adjust to the stretch.

“So tight, fuck. Shit, never felt a tighter pussy in my life.” He whispered when you were finally seated on top of him. He pulled your skirt out of the way to appreciate just how connected your bodies were in that moment. His cock just seemed to fit perfectly, so snug you could’ve cried as you began to slowly work your hips against his.

“Oh my god Bucky you’re huge.” You should’ve been embarrassed by how high and needy your whine came out but right then and there, you didn’t care.

“It’s all yours sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so good you never need another cock again. Gonna ruin anyone else for you - fuck.” Under normal circumstances you would’ve chastised him for being so overconfident but feeling how his cock nudged your sweet spot perfectly, you thought he might actually be right.

“Gotta fuck you angel, can’t just sit here anymore, ‘s driving me crazy.” He just couldn’t keep himself still any longer, lust burning behind his eyes in a way you had never seen in him before. You lifted yourself up slowly, feeling his length slipping from you, your walls fighting to pull him deeper until you sank back down, taking the whole length at once. The strangled cry that left Bucky was incredible. You repeated your gentle rise and fall, setting a decent pace. Every sharp fall of your hips tore a needy gasp from both of you, the sweetest spot inside you throbbing from the almost constant onslaught. It was everything you craved. Bucky was grasping at every curve of your body, lost in the feeling of your soft skin and the grip of your silky walls and the smell of your shampoo as you rode him, building speed as your pleasure built in your lower belly. The wet sounds escaping where your bodies were joined was nothing short of obscene, only fuelling Bucky to meet each of your thrusts with his own.

“Oh my god, I -oh oh- I can’t, can’t take it Bucky please.” You groaned, manicured fingernails digging into his chest.

“I got you honey. ‘s okay. Gonna take such good care of you when we get to the hotel. Just want you to cum once for me now, okay? Take the edge off. You feel so good wrapped round me. You know what else I can feel? Your pretty pussy is leakin’. Feel you drippin’ down over my balls. Never felt anything so hot in my ‘ntire life.” His fingers fell to your clit, rubbing neatly as if he had been trained to do nothing else. You were on cloud nine, your high so close but not quite there yet.

“Bucky, gonna cum. Oh fuck!” You whined, your orgasm hitting you like a train. You came with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut, rocking against him more than fucking so his cock stayed buried inside you.

“Shit, how did you get even fuckin’ tighter. ‘M so close.” He whispered against your neck, broken and needy. Your high had all but subsided, aftershocks still pleasantly coursing through you as you went back to letting your hips rise and fall so Bucky could finish. It only took four more well timed thrusts before he was cumming with a shout, pulling you flush against him as his balls emptied into the condom.

You were both spent and sweaty but more satisfied than you could remember being in months, your chest pressed to his as you both came down, craving a little extra affection. Bucky held you for a good few minutes until you felt his cock softening, knowing he really should get cleaned up. You let him slip from you, pulling your skirt down to take your original seat across from him again.

“Gimme a second.” He whispered, kissing your forehead before making his way to the little bathroom, returning a few minutes later looking just as put together as ever, apart from his telltale grin.

“Jesus, we should do that more often.” You smiled quietly when he returned, letting him settle in the chair beside you this time, the dividing arm rest pushed out of the way so you could cuddle as much as possible given the limited space.

“I can’t stop now honey. That pussy is addictive.” He smiled, happy to see you leaning so comfortably up against him but even happier when he heard your soft little snores.

Taglist:

@harrysthiccthighss @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @justatirednightowl @littlecanadianlani @babebr @sebsbrokentoe @badgirlwolfy

[yuzukult]

acquitted love || sjn & reader

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

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

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

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

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

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

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

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

“But he’s so hot—”

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

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

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

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

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

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

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

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

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

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What could she be calling for?

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

“As you know, I have a favor.”

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

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

What the fuck?

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

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

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

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

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

“What about Gonghyun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kiss ass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is a game changer.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

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

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

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

“I don’t think—”

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

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

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

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

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

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

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

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

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

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

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I’m single.”

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

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

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

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

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

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

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

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

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

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

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

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

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

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

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

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

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

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

“I like you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart stops for a second.

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

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

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

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

Hyeri is his replacement.

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you going?”

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

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

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

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

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

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

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

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

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

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

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

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

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—Throw themselves at you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

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

You’re left without anything to say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t flirting.”

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

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

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

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

Your silence answers his question.

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

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yours? Not so much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or at least, you’ll try.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d really like that.”

[chelseaheskett]

12:14PM, TUESDAY. AUGUST 11TH, 2020.

She’d been in this situation so many times. Too many times. 

The drive down to Charlotte after her second round of artificial insemination, sitting in the clinic waiting room with her Mom by her side. Holding her hand and praying. Chelsea tried not to get her hopes up, tried to bury the excitement. The first round had been unsuccessful. So much of her money and savings spent, just for it to fail. Her doctor greeted them with a huge smile on her face. Ushered them inside her office. 

A pee-on-a-stick pregnancy test from a grocery store she’d never been to before. New town, new city. All the way on the other side of the country. No Mom to hold her hand this time. Chelsea shyly smiled at the checkout person when they scanned it through. Snuck it off to the nearest restroom. Washed it off and boxed it up, after the result came through. 

Her doctor’s office after lots of dizzy spells. Nausea. Rocking three kids, three toddlers, in a stroller back and forth with her foot while she waited for a diagnosis. A reason for all her symptoms and sickness. 

This time it was a self-service checkout. The same grocery store she always went to. She avoided the aisle with the eggs. Bagged up the test on her own and drove home. Took it into the bathroom off the entryway, so she didn’t have to run into her Mom looking after the kids. It was just a precaution. She just had to rule it out. It was impossible for the test to be positive, anyway... until it wasn’t. 'Til it wasn’t impossible and it was positive. “I gotta duck out again, I’ll be back!” Chelsea called out, already halfway out the front door. She drove back to the store, foot a little heavy on the gas. Parked the car the way Elliot usually would: poorly, and practically illegal. Shoved two different brands of take-home pregnancy tests into a bag. Just to be sure. Just to rule it out. False positives happened. 

Three false positives in a row didn’t look too good. Chelsea loved probability. Tutored Jenny in Math all the time. She was a numbers person, okay? She typed them into her phone, over and over, searching for a doctor’s office with any available appointments. Drove half an hour into the city to see somebody, anybody. The guy didn’t ask her any questions. No medical or family history, nothing. Chelsea didn’t choose to tell him anything, either. Didn’t say I have four biological children under the age of four, a teenage step-daughter, and a husband who got a vasectomy. Told him about the three at-home pregnancy tests, though. He got her to pee in a cup. It was any wonder Chelsea had anything left, after all of her previous attempts. She asked for a blood test, too. Didn’t mind waiting a few days for the results, she just needed to be sure. A nurse came to draw her blood and then handed her off to somebody else. Another doctor in the clinic for a sonogram. 

The urine test was positive. Chelsea refused to believe it. Got changed into a gown for the ultrasound and hitched her legs up in the stirrups. The doctor got going with the wand, making small talk. Chelsea nodded; replied like a robot. Clenched the fabric of the gown around her stomach to keep her hands from trembling. Shifted around, uncomfortable, from the pressure of the wand moving around inside of her. She refused to look at the screen until the doctor pointed it out to her, lining over the image with his fingertip. 

“Here’s the yolk sac.” He said, before moving his finger out. “And the gestational sac…” 

Chelsea nodded again. Quick, frantic. Grit her teeth to keep from crying. 

“And this tiny white speck? That’s the embryo.” Chelsea had to squint to see it. But it was there. It was there. “I’d say you’re around five, maybe five-and-a-half weeks pregnant.”

There must’ve been something in the water. They had a barbecue on the weekend with the twins. Macy and Amy and their families. Macy balancing Ollie, her three-year-old son, on her hip while Caleb hugged her from behind. They announced they were pregnant. Eight weeks along. Their second pregnancy, with three years in between. Four, by the time the new baby arrived. That was acceptable, that was… that was normal. Four years between, like a regular person would. Unlike Chelsea, who had practically been pregnant every year over the last four. Who had four babies under the age of four. 

Everything was a number. Jack had just turned three about a fortnight ago. Jenny had turned thirteen-years-old weeks before that. A teenager. It was the twins’ second birthday in two days. They were meant to have a party on the weekend. Luca was only six months old. Vasectomies were 99.9% effective for preventing pregnancy. That was one pregnancy for every thousand vasectomies. And Chelsea was pregnant again. Chelsea was about to be pregnant for the fourth time, with her fifth biological child. Five under five. Luca had only just gotten his first tooth. Only just started eating solids, when he agreed to it. Six months. Six children. Six fucking children. One in one thousand. Pregnant, again.

Chelsea felt like a robot malfunctioning. Broken and spitting out numbers. It got like this, this bad, sometimes. Fixating on numbers and figures, as if her brain couldn’t process things any other way at this capacity. This overwhelmed. When she was feeling something that couldn’t even be named or described. She took the sonogram printout and walked out of the clinic. Without paying, without even realising. Just walked to her car and stopped to sit on the curb. She eased her head between her knees, forcing herself to breathe. Birthing classes gave her plenty of practice, right? In, out. Nice and easy, the way Elliot would always say. Elliot. How was she gonna tell Elliot? Again?

The courthouse wasn’t far from the doctor’s office. Chelsea didn’t even think about it: when she got calm enough to get back in her car and drive, she did. She’d already driven into the city for the appointment, anyway. Somehow remembered to fill the meter for street parking in front of the building. She found the right courtroom and slipped into a pew at the back. Nobody noticed her entrance. Didn’t notice that she was severely underdressed in an oversized tunic and jeans. Flat sandals. Elliot was sitting up the front of the room at his bar table, head bowed and scribbling something on a notepad. Chelsea couldn’t see his face from this angle, but she’d know that hair anywhere. The shape of his body, hunched over in his seat, suit jacket pressing tight against his back. She could see the arms of his glasses tucked behind his ears, too. Chelsea got lost in the sight of him. Pretended to herself that she was just here to watch, just to see him in action, and not for any other completely life-altering reason. Nope. For now, she wasn’t going to think about that. 

The other lawyer, the prosecution, was pacing around before the guy on the witness stand. Gently questioned him. Chelsea didn’t know much about the case, but it only took a little while to figure out what was going on. The man on the stand was the victim. Yeah. “Victim.” Chelsea furrowed her eyebrows, listening to the guy talk. Rehearsed and manipulative. The lawyer gave a thank you and sat back down at the bar table across the way from Elliot’s. Hey, at least something had gone right today! It looked like she had gotten here just in time to see her baby—no, bad word!—her husband work his magic. 

This was a very serious assault case—Chelsea shouldn’t’ve been grinning ear-to-ear in the back row, but she couldn’t help it. Elliot stood and unbuttoned his suit jacket. Pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Chelsea got antsy when he said lawyer stuff like objection or verdict at home… this was next level hot. Seeing him in his element. His cross-examination was smart. Completely clever. Turns out the “victim” was a wife beater. The accused, Elliot’s client, was the wife. And Elliot made sure everybody knew it. Constantly looked over at the jury, giving Chelsea a shot at his side profile. There was someone in the gallery taking photos. Yeah, how did Chelsea get a copy of that? Hey, maybe she could be a court photographer. That’d be cool. 

Elliot was getting the victim, the husband, pretty worked up on the stand. Hitting him where it hurt. Asking the right questions. From the evidence Elliot was providing, the guy had a temper. A really short fuse. And Elliot knew which buttons to push. Chelsea was getting worked up, too. Flushed cheeks, a bead of sweat collecting on her forehead. This should not have been arousing, but it was, Goddammit! Hormones notwithstanding. Elliot was confident and cunning and she was so proud of him. Practically had the guy on the stand exactly where he wanted him until the prosecution, rattled, called for a recess. The judge dropped his gavel and said something about breaking for lunch. Chelsea felt like she was in an episode of SVU. She’d have to bring Jenny to one of these, one day. She’d love that. It was good. It was a good distraction. But as the gallery started to disperse, and the judge and jury filed out of the courtroom, Chelsea’s stomach twisted into knots. Time to face the music, huh?

Elliot was shuffling paper into his briefcase. His client, the wife, left the room with who Chelsea could only assume were her parents. Some support system or another. Chelsea gave the woman a small, soft smile when they crossed paths. Elliot hadn’t caught sight of her yet. She stood a few steps behind him, fingers wrapping around the thin strap of her bag, hanging over her shoulder. Chelsea cleared her throat. Rolled back on her heels. “Y’know, it should be a crime...” Talked before she even thought about touching him. Knew he would recognise her voice and wouldn’t get jumpy. “You up there being so sexy. Just out there on display for the whole world to witness.” She teased, voice slightly high pitched. Had to push through all this anxious, nervous energy. The pit in her stomach.

“Hi, handsome.” Chelsea said, breaking the distance between them by the time he turned around to face her. She didn’t want him to seem unprofessional or anything, so she caught his wrist and stroked his arm instead of giving him a hug or a kiss in greeting. Didn’t call him baby, because she was actively avoiding that word for the moment. Handsome wasn’t used nearly as much as he deserved, anyway. And standing there in his suit, hair falling over the frame of his glasses, it was fitting. Appropriate. Despite her gut feeling, Chelsea smiled up at him. Let her shoulders drop and relax with a deep, drawn out exhale. “Nothing bad’s happened, I promise.” Well. It depends how he saw it, really. Chelsea didn’t want to put that out into the universe, though—no matter what ended up happening with this pregnancy. She knew him, though. Knew he’d panic and wonder why she was here, at the courthouse in the middle of his work day, if something wasn’t wrong. 

Before he could question it, Chelsea got to talking again. Ran her mouth some more. “You’re doing really great, honey. He was about to crack, I could see it!” The minimal touching thing was hard. Chelsea smoothed out the lapels on his jacket. Fidgeted with his tie. It was really for her own benefit, not for his or his appearance. “You’ve totally got this in the bag.” Her hands slid up to his shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “God, you’re so talented. You’re so good at this, Elliot.” She’d known it this whole time, of course, but now she had actual evidence. And he couldn’t argue back if she was using legal jargon! 

She wished it could stay like this. Light, unserious. Chelsea tried to keep it going for as long as possible. Tried to keep the shake out of her skin, and the caving emptiness out of the pit of her stomach. Chelsea flit her gaze away from his face. Briefly, momentarily. But he knew her. He knew her better than anybody in the entire world. No matter how much she wanted to right now, she couldn’t hide from him. She couldn’t hide from this. “I don’t wanna interrupt your lunch time, hon, but... is there someplace we can go to talk? Somewhere quiet?”

[rosemarie--h]

( zoey deutch. 25. she/her. ) i think i just saw ROSEMARIE  JANE HARMON ride by on a golf cart . at least i think it was them . after all , I MISS THE MISERY BY HALESTORM was blasting on the transistor radio . maybe they were on their way to work , i hear they’re a BARTENDER AT THE WATERING HOLE . but they totally could have been on their way to PLAY PRANKS ON THE MEMBERS. guess we’ll never know . you’ll definitely know its them when you see RIPPED BLACK JEANS, SOUND OF 90'S ROCK AND DILATED PUPILS around the country club . let’s just hope they stay off the green after hours or else the sprinklers will get them ! ( marie. 26. est. she/her. none. ) 

tw: child neglect, tw: drugs, tw: suicide

I couldn’t help myself and brought my old rebel  child back. I just love my messy and broken girl.!

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

 Matthew and Stacey Harmon where the epitome of what success should look like. They were a young couple who had come from nothing and mounted to be the most sought-after criminal defense lawyers in the United States. They were known for their poise and ability to handle high profile cases with dignity and discretion. Their clients ranged from high-grossing actors and celebrities to politicians and other government officials. And in the years since their jump into high profile, they had built up an image that both always strived to be. They had to be picture perfect. Perfectly put together. Fit the part of success. So naturally, when they became pregnant, it wasn’t something they had planned or particularly wanted. They tried to keep the pregnancy as quiet as possible, and while they had always had the option of abortion or adoption, for some reason the Harmons had allowed the pregnancy to go full term.

Rosemarie Jane Harmon was born on August 5th, 1992 and unlike most babies, Rose was not held by her mother immediately after birth. In fact, she had been refused and sent immediately to the hospital nursery. The rest of her life followed in similar fashion. Rose had come into her parents’ life as unwanted and unloved. A child ruined the image the stoic lawyers had tried to build for themselves and their practice, especially as child as lively and rambunctious as Rose had been from the start. Rose had probably been embraced by her parents only a handful of times, most of the love she received growing up coming from the Nanny – Elizabeth Green – that had been hired to raise her. But even Elizabeth – the only mother figure she had truly grown to know – was taken from her once Stacy deemed Rose old enough to take care of herself.

Growing up without any love or affection had Rose searching for it in all the wrong places from a very young age. It started off innocently enough – mostly confined to causing trouble at home, just so she could get a flicker of attention from her father or mother but that stopped working, her cries become louder. Living in Atlanta, it wasn’t hard to find trouble. In school, Rose started to hang out with the wrong crowd. Though, the more trouble she found, the less it seemed her parents cared, almost slowly fazing her out of their image.

She was 17 when she first fell from grace. At a rave, Rose stuck her tongue out, letting a tablet be pressed to her tongue for the first time. She’s been after that high ever since. It was the closest thing that she could imagine love felt like. It took her away from the feeling of worthlessness that plagued her because of her parents’ incapability of loving her as parents should love their children. It took her away from the pain of missing her only mother figure who never tried to reach out to her despite promising a young rose she would on the day she was let go. It took her away from the depression that ran through her body despite her refusal to acknowledge it.

From that moment on, Rose lived searching for the occasional high to get her feeling alive again but for the most part, she had it under control, still having a firm grip on reality. But everything began to take a different path when she met Andrew. He was older than her, a good five years. But despite their age difference, they had immediately hit things off and it wasn’t long before Rose had fallen completely head over heels for him. He was the first person she opened up to him about her home life and when Andrew heard of her misery, he had given her the option to follow him to his next destination.

With no family or real friends to hold her back, Rose didn’t hesitate to pack what she could when her boyfriend at the time asked her to run away with him. They hit the road then and Rose hasn’t been back to Atlanta since. When her and Andrew landed in Chicago, Rose’s eyes were opened to a new world – mostly for the worse. He introduced her to a world of endless fun and chemically induced euphoria. It was with him that the dependency for drugs began to really grow. It started off her a tablet of molly here or there, like she had been doing in Atlanta, and before she knew it, she was doing a line in the bathroom of a club.

About a year or so after being together, Rose’s world would soon fall apart. One morning, after a typical night of partying, she woke up to find that Andrew was dead. He had overdosed and she’d been too high too notice. By the time she had woken up, it had been too late. So, Rose got up, called the cops and ran before they got there.

Rose’s already fragile heart was shattered at losing the one person that had loved her in this cruel world. The one person she had loved unconditionally. And the grief fueled her addiction even further. 

From that day forward, Rose lived most of her minutes high or searching for the next dose. It didn’t really matter where the high came from, she just craved that feeling of euphoria, of being alive, of numbness. If it came from a tablet of molly, fine. If it was from a shot of heroin, cool. A mixture of opioids, why not? A smoke of meth- what was the harm? But her favorite way to lose herself was from a line of cocaine. Rose began to live a very nomadic life, travelling where she wanted, making connections as she went, crashing on their couches and starting all over again. There were times when she became so drugged, she would party for days, unable to settle down enough to stop and sleep. She got into fights. Spent many days in stupors, a haze. She wouldn’t have a clue of the reality around her.

Rose was twenty, when she OD’d for the first time and was admitted into rehab for her addiction. After a few months of rehab, Rose was released, and she wasted no time in falling back into her vices. She continued to jump from place to place, never staying no longer than a few weeks at a time. In her travels, she had several relapses, a couple of times causing her to be readmitted into rehab. But sadly, her addiction was stronger than her will live.

That was until she met Finely but Finley is someone Rose never talks about.

If Rose lived in shadowed lands, then Finley lived in other darkness. There was fragility around this woman that had drawn Rose to her immediately. Their initial time was spent mostly just hooking up but it was in the quiet moments that Rose fell. Finley was the other half of her, her true and tragic soulmate. Her star crossed lover. 

There was a part of her that always knew Finley wouldn’t exist on this Earth forever. There was a sadness and exhaustion that clung so tightly to her love and even when there seemed to be a little light that shined through, it wasn’t enough. 

The day Rose walked into their apartment and found that Finley had taken her life, was as expected as it was a shock. She still doesn’t know how long she clung to Fin’s body, sobbing for her to come back before she finally called for help.

Rose has never been the same. 

The loss completely eviscerated her. There was a gaping hole left in her chest and Rose went down a spiral to rock bottom, trying to fill or numb that hole. 

Rose has never been truly sober since that day 2 years ago and while she has gotten her vices under somewhat of control, she still very much relies on them on a day to day basis. Just enough to numb the hurt that never seems to go away. 

When she arrived in Highland at 1 year ago, Rose was probably at the lowest she had ever been. But trying to keep her promise to Finley, Rose has tried to make the best of things. She landed a job at the Watering Hole and has found a apartment to live in with a roommate.

And though every day is a struggle for her, Rose feels that she’s on the right track to turn her life around. Or at least, pretend to.

Important Facts: - Rose has a lot of emotional and mental issues due to her past. Mostly, she has this abandonment complex and she struggles every day with a heavy sense of worthless. - Has been clean for two and a half years. - She still clings to the party scene, though she now stays away from illicit substances, she has no issue with throwing back a few shots. - Rose hasn’t been in a relationship with anyone in about 2 years and is very happy that way. She doesn’t want to get hurt again. And she isn’t sure she can love again. - Loves animals and often volunteers at the shelter - LOVES cats and wants one but considers herself too unstable to own a pet. - Hasn’t spoken to her parents since she left Atlanta and pretends it doesn’t bother her, but it does. - On her left side, Rose has a tattoo. It’s the quote “without struggle, there is no progress” in cursive writing. - Has lived in Atlanta, Chicago, Nashville, New Orleans, a few other places until she came back to Georgia and settled in Peaches Hollow.

Personality - Rose lives impulsively, acting first and thinking later. - She doesn’t hold back and certainly doesn’t censor herself. Rose is the most straightforward person around and she will tell you how it is, whether it hurts your feelings or not. - Fun is priority in her life. Having grown up so unloved and hidden away in her youth, she is desperately trying to fill that gap in her life. She will jump from club to club, party to party, a shot of tequila in her hands always. Mostly, she is afraid that if she stops, allows herself to feel, every heartache she has ever felt will coming rushing at her. - Attachments are a no go for her, especially romantic ones. She’s fine with hook-ups, in fact she rather enjoys them, but once she or her partner start to develop feelings, she flees. If you don’t let anyone close, you can never be hurt. - Losing Finley broke something inside of Rose and she’s very keen on not giving that part of herself way. She doesn’t know if she can love again or if she has any to give. Most of the time, however, Rose tends to develop friendships with her partners. She’s pretty laid back and goes with the flow which makes everything easier. - Rose is super protective of those she considers close to her and will do almost anything for them. - Once you get past her wit and sass, Rose is the sweetest person you would ever meet, even if she’s rough around the edges. But good luck getting her to open emotionally.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Plague Rat Chapter 3

Three months later…

 “Hello and welcome to Channel Eight! I’m Erica, bringing you the news!”

 “Today we are speaking of what is now called ‘the Plague of Truth’, brought upon us by the Akuma Plague Rat.

 Due to the Akuma’s powers of infecting people with a deadly virus resembling the Black Plague but targeting liars, many secrets came about. And many consequences have occurred. The most high profile ones are the former mayor, his wife and a dozen city officials who are now closing ranks and trying to-“ Marinette turned off the TV and closed her eyes.

 After she had been purified, the girl had been horrified at her actions, feeling ill and disgusted. She had done that? She had attacked people? She had nearly…

 Luckily there was a therapist employed by the hospital that sat with her and spoke with her. He was open and honest and she had a lot off issues she usually kept locked up. 

 He helped her speak of them and confront them. Helped her understand her issues. Helped her realize how many were people putting things on her and expecting things if her when they shouldn’t. 

 She still didn’t feel okay. Knowing what she did made her feel sick, but her classmates where there. Alix spoke with her softly, the girl knowing she had killed one. Kim spoke of rewatching his actions and feeling horrified. Rose shuddered at what she had done.

 It helped. 

 More so, honestly, it helped knowing that her actions had exposed Lila and a lot of corruption. Not only had she hit the mayor, she’d hit the commissioner, Audrey, Nadja and a bunch of others. 

 Andre had been removed from office and was now facing trial for his crimes. The commissioner had been removed from office along with Roger being fired and were also facing charges. Rumors said they would probably get ten years at least.

Audrey was going away for child abuse, corruption and the abuse of her staff. She had admitted everything and Chloe had been removed from their care in a second, being placed with an aunt on the other side of Paris who hadn’t spoken to her sister in years and had never cared to. The aunt had agreed to take Chloe in but had warned the girl she would not put up with any of her actions.

 Marinette hadn’t heard anything since as Chloe had been expelled by the new principal that had replaced Damocles when the fact he was being bribed came out. Bustier had also been replaced. Marinette wasn’t sad to see them go- even if it was only recently she could go back to school after the shock to her system becoming an Akuma had been. It wrecked her metabolism again and she’d been stuck in a bed for months.

 Luckily, there was a friendly nurse around who was happy to take over for Akumas. Marinette has the best time hearing her rant about magic and how stupid it was she couldn’t tell who Ladybug was when she was in the hosptial. Often right in front of her door.

 Tikki found it hilarious to.

 But she had finally left the hospital and Tikki said she could go back to fighting, something she was glad about. She missed it, not that she’d admit it.

 But before that, there was a trial to be had.

 -0-

 “So you willingly did it-“

 “I did.” Alya interrupted the lawyer. “I willingly exposed her to sick children but that was at the urging of Lila who said she had to be lying. I believe the videos I’ve given show that.” Alya felt like a bug as everyone in the courtroom stared at her. She kept her chin up though. She would not be cowed by this lawyer Lila’s father got her. Apparently Lila’s nasty habits came from someone and that was her father. Her mother had been furious to know she was in contact with him and was not pleased by the lawyer but agreed to it.

 She didn’t want her baby in jail either.

 He was a good lawyer, knew how to come at things from all angles.

 But Alya had been Rena Rouge. The Fox Miraculous left marks deep in her soul, which made her slippery and sly. She had forgotten and gotten caught in lies herself, but she remembered now.

 And she would not yield. 

 “I wonder, if anyone actually knows that the reason she wants Marinette dead is because she called her out on her lies in college.” Snapped Alya, suddenly latching onto the thought. The lawyer blinked. “Didn’t know that? Lila is just angry that Marinette didn’t follow her around. That Marinette called her out.” The lawyer actually stepped back and turned to look at Lila who couldn’t hide her furious face fast enough. Alya smiled at her while the lawyer said he had to dismiss himself from the case now, his clients had been lying to him.

 Alya hadn’t been a good person for a while. She had followed a liar and had blinded herself to truth for a long time. But she had once been a hero, once been a good person. 

 She was going to start again.

-0-

 “So you thought it was like tabloids?” Dr. Shaw asked Adrien who sighed. 

 “Yeah I mean…” Adrien shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe if I hadn’t known the truth I’d have believed hem but when I did I saw how stupid they were and they reminded me of the tabloids. I thought they’d figure it out themselves. I didn’t think she was hurting anyone.”

 “But she did. Her actions almost caused many of them to miss out on incredibly important opportunities for their futures. It was lucky your friend Marientte managed to convince them it was a good way to show case their skills to the supposed contacts Lila had.” The doctor said and Adrien winced.

 “I… I didn’t want her Akumatized again.”

 “And yet Marientte was.” Adrien looked down. “Adrien, if I can be very blunt- you despise conflict and prefer a passive approach to it. While disliking conflict is fine, and I encourage you not to seek it out, not confronting people who you know are in the wrong isn’t always the best idea.”

 “...” Adrien didn’t want to think about it anymore. But he had to. His father had made him go to therapy and Plagg had told him it was a good idea for him to do so. He needed to get over this. “It’s easier when it’s not me.” Adrien blurted our. “Online I mean.” He quickly covered. It was easy to confront people as Chat Noir. 

 “Then pretend you’re not Adrien when you confront people.” The therapist offered and…

 That was really good advice.

Two months later…

 “Hello and welcome to the new Ladyblog!” Alya grinned on the screen Marientte was watching. “As you know due to certain circumstances I left this blog for the last few months. This is due to Lila and her actions towards my classmate and my own actions. However, this is a new start. First and foremost- this blog will now only contain facts. I have three people to check over anything I post that’s an article and needed to be researched who will do so. I spoke with Ladybug and she’s agreed to an interview with all heroes providing they agree-“ that was the only small crack, a shadow of sadness. After Miracle Queen everyone know she’d been a hero, and seeing a new fox must hurt.

 Marientte though was just amused that Alya was such a good actor. Sure she no longer used the fox but she fit the Turtle very well. And Nino was a fine Dragon, while Luka was a great Fox and Kagami was an amazing Bee.

 It hadn’t been to hard to manage to have an interview with them- though all separate. It was enough to show Paris they were human to.

 Marinette smiled,  watching as Alya continued her speech. 

 Things had changed since she’d become Plague Rat. Lila was now in jail back in Italy. Youth jail but still. She would spend two years there before being released on parole for either ten years or for the rest of her life depending on her actions. While she had lost her first lawyer they had been assigned a second one who had managed to get a psychiatrist in to look at her. 

 The man said she was either a psychopath or a sociopath. They had tried to say that meant she was allowed to be free but that was ended when the doctor pointed out she knew what she was doing was wrong. She just didn’t care. 

 She wasn’t allowed back in France and apparently other countries had also banned her. She was forever stuck in Italy.

 The former mayor was also in jail. Five years, chance of parole in two and a half, maybe less depending on behaviour. Nadja had lost custody of Manon after it got out she routinely used the girl to gather info and had put her in risk multiple times. Audrey was in jail, Roger had lost his job and was on probation. 

 Paris had experienced a revolution after Plague Rat. The new mayor was a woman who took no shit and was a hardass who was happily funding the police to find Hawkmoth, and bring him down. The new commissioner had fired all corrupt cops- Roger had been part of this sweep- and now Paris was thriving.

 Adrien as well seemed to have changed. He had formally apologized to her for his inaction and he was taking steps to be able to confront people. He’d already had a fight with his father about being a model and had leaked to the press how Gabriel treated him. Gabriel was in therapy now and Adrien had a social worker doing random checks on him. 

 “I guess even Akumatized I’m a hero.” She remarked to Tikki who chuckled. 

 “Perhaps. But I like you as you.”

 “Same.” She still has nightmares about what she’d done. She still freaked out about the hospital. Hell she was still recovering months later from the stress of being Akumatized while suffering from sickness and a horrible immune system. 

 But she was doing better. She was moving forward.

 And that was all she could do.

Tagged: @anastasian-dreamer @magicalfirebird @kibastray @thesunanditsangel @virgil-is-a-cutie @marinettepotterandplagg @heaven428 @sofmimis @so-freaking-done-with-people @moonystars14 @slytherinhquinn @spartanxhunterx

[toribun]

αγάπη

Words :: 6,6k

Pairing :: idol!/soulmate!Jimin x soulmate!reader

Warnings :: swearing, talk about social anxiety, some bad talk about chimchim, a mention about becoming lesbian, future angst, future smut.

CHAPTER 2

the phone call with your mom was definitely the most stressful phone call you had to take in your life. It was even worse than the time you almost sat the whole apartment on fire when you tried to make your friend eggs and bacon for her birthday breakfast. 

She had gotten worried demanding that you gave her your soulmates whole name and the number to Mrs.Kim. You knew you couldn’t give her that though. It would only make matters worse. You loved your mother to death, but she was a bit aggressive when it came to her children. You knew if you gave your mother Mrs.Kims number that she would lash out and probably be sued by the company because of harassment. And you knew she didn’t have enough money saved up to pay for compensation or a good lawyer.

You hadn’t slept much that night. You were too nervous about the meeting with Mrs.Kim and about your neighbor’s reaction to you having visitors. You were supposed to lay low, but everyone in your town knew you never had people over. you were kind of known in town as the young girl that wasn’t capable of making any friends.But most of all you were nervous about how many people Mrs.Kim would bring with her. She said she would bring a full security team. How many people is that? Would they just stand outside your house all day? Because that would definitely bring you an unnecessary amount of attention from your neighbors. 

You hadn’t read anything more about Jimin in your letter nor have you searched for any information about him or his company on the internet. You figured that you would be better of going in the blind about him as much as everybody else does when they get matched. You didn’t need to put more pressure on yourself than you already have. You had started to worry about how he took it when he found out that a girl that works as a bartender and barely made enough money to pay her bills was his soulmate. He must have been so embarrassed. Maybe that why Mrs. Kim and a whole fucking security team were on their way to you at this very moment. Maybe their job was to hide you from the media because Jimin didn’t want anyone to find out about his poor and unsuccessful soulmate. 

Okay... relax (y/n), no need to make yourself hate the guy before you had even been introduced to him. Just take a chill pill. 

When the clock hit ten you heard a knock on your door. A woman, probably in her early thirties was looking at you through your glass door as you walked down the stairs. She had to be Mrs.Kim. Four men all dressed in black was standing on both sides behind her.

When you opened the door, it took approximately five seconds before the lady and all the men had taken off their shoes and made their way into your house. Two of the men dragged your curtains over the glass doors before they turned around with their back to the doors. Then they bowed and said something in a language you didn’t understand. 

You didn’t say anything back nor did you bow back. Why did they bow? That’s so weird. Where you suppose to bow back, or would they think you look like a desperate foreigner trying to fit into the group. You figured a smile would be the best thing to do. You tried to give them the friendliest smile you were able to pull off, to try to make a good first impression. You didn’t want them to think of you as rude.

When you turned around to face the rest of the strangers, one of the men was on his way up the stairs. The woman and the last man of the four were just standing in the middle of your living room. They had smiled as soon as you had turned toward them. They bowed to, but the woman not as low as the man. 

“Hello (y/n), it’s so good to see you in person instead of just talking over the phone. We apologize for rushing in so fast, we didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Yeah well too late for that Mrs.Kim. You shouldn’t have closed the curtains if you wanted me to relax. Now it just looks like you have a mafia boss on a visit with a plan to torture and kill you. You were almost afraid that one of your neighbors would call the cops on them. 

“Ah.. yeah.. umm...hi... I am (y/n), but you probably already know that. I mean you wouldn’t barge in here if you didn’t know who I was” 

Mrs.Kim laughs. She had a beautiful smile. Pearl white teeth and a little dimple, only on her left side though. Her eyes almost disappeared completely when she laughed, you could only see a little gap in her eyes where beautiful dark irises poked through. She had to be the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. If you hadn’t just gotten your soulmate letter you would consider going lesbian for that masterpiece of a human being. 

“No, we certainly wouldn’t. We have all just been a little on edge since we left Korea. Seeing that all your curtains were left completely open for all your neighbors to see just made us a little nervous. It is our job to keep your privacy private from now on after all. And I can promise you that I take my job very seriously as you probably will notice in the next couple of days. I will do my absolute best to protect you (y/n).”

She bowed again, this time a little lower than the first. Then she walked a little closer to you.

“Ah.. so, me and my team haven’t introduced our self’s properly jet. I can start with myself. As you already know I am Mrs.Kim. I have worked for BigHit for almost six years now. I started working as a secretary for a lot of the high profiled people in our company until I got switched over to the security department two years ago. My job for the last two years has been to plan for the arrival of the soulmates of our idols. Now I have been given the position as head of security for you (y/n). I truly look forward to working with you.” 

She shakes my hand and smiles again. Then she turned to look at all the men around your house.

“And some of these men are going to be your personal security guards. Not all of them though, we just brought a little extra to ensure that everything runs smoothly for your journey to Seoul. The next couple of weeks is really going to determine who is gonna stay with you permanently. We will see who you get the most comfortable with and them pic two out of that. We also made sure that all of the security personnel assigned to you are capable of speaking English fluently so that we don’t get any problems related to communication.” 

Wait... If they are all fluent in English, why the hell did they speak another language to you just a couple of minutes ago then? 

“We have Junseo, Seurong, Yucheon, and Hyun. All of them have worked with the company for more than five years. Junseo is actually one of Jimins guards. He has worked with bts since the beginning. Jimin trust him more than any other guard working for us, so he specifically asked for him to join us on our travel to make sure that you were taken extra good care of.”

 They had all smiled when Mrs.Kim said their name and said cute little Hello’s and hi’s in return. Junseo’s ears and cheeks got all red when Mrs.Kim had talked so well about him. You could already tell that he was too pure for this world, how is this blushing mess a security guard? You just couldn’t wrap your head around that. You just wanted to give him a hug and tell him how adorable he is. He probably wouldn’t appreciate that though. He is a grown man after all. You did hope that you two could become friends in the future though. Maybe you could take him out for ice cream someday. He seems like a guy that would like stuff like that.

Mrs. Kim said a couple of words in what you assumed was Korean before all of them except Junseo went outside again. She sounded so French when she talked English, but looked and talked Korean. You were confused. Maybe you were just absolutely horrible at telling apart accents.You were all just standing there so you asked them both to take a seat on your couch to get a more comfortable atmosphere. They happily obliged, you took a seat in the beanbag tucked in the corner of the room. It was silent for what felt like five seconds before Mrs.Kim opened her mouth again. 

“I actually really need you to take a look at these documents with me (y/n). The CEOs of BigHit have required me to present this to you before our travel tomorrow. It is documents regarding your future in the company. Unfortunately, you don’t really have a choice of being a part of the company or not. Not only because of Jimin’s contract with BigHit but also his line of work. But they have tried to make it as fair as possible for you with this contact.” 

The previous big smile that decorated Mrs.Kim’s face had become smaller as she kept talking. You had already tried to prepare for worst-case scenarios, so keeping calm wasn’t as hard as you had first thought. It made sense to. Everybody knows that if you get matched with a famous person that you are basically bound to both them and their work for the rest of your life. You felt bad for the ones that had found at who they were only to have it all be ripped away to become a personal healing bag for their famous soulmate. 

You were also kind of happy though. Everyone in your life seems to know exactly who they are. What work they wanna do, their personality, what their style is, and what their dreams and goals are. You honestly didn’t know anything about yourself. You still haven’t found out who you are or what you want to do with your life. That was a good thing now though. Because if you don’t have anything to lose then people can’t take anything from you. 

But why did they ask for Mrs.Kim to show me the contract now? Why couldn’t we just do that after arriving in Korea? 

“He has requested you to show them to me now? Why can’t it wait until we have arrived in Seoul?” 

Mrs.Kim nodded before looking down at the stack of paper in her hands. 

“Well, even though they know that you wouldn’t run off to another entertainment company and ask for a job. They just need to make sure. Have it in black on white you know. It also is to make you more relaxed. In the contact that they wish for you to sign is a promise from them as a company. They want you to know that they are going to protect both you and your loved ones from the media and the fans. It is also a promise from them that they are going to give you work if you wish to and pay you even if you decide not to. For them, the most important thing is to know that regardless of where Jimin is or what he is doing, that you are going to be right beside him. They know that an idol can’t work without his or her soulmate after the bond as started. They need you to be around so that Jimin can keep working.”

“And in return, I give them what? All of what you just said sounds too good to be true.” You said. Your voice confused.

“In return” she continues. “In return, you give us your absolute loyalty. It really isn’t anything more than that. This isn’t a contact meant to screw you over (y/n). We know how bad it can all end if an idol doesn’t have their soulmate around twenty-four seven” 

Junseo had made his way to your kitchen, probably to give the two of you some privacy to discuss this. It had to be a little uncomfortable just sitting there and watching this conversation progress. You saw him looking at the pictures hanging on your refrigerator. You had filled the whole surface of the refrigerator with photos from back home, and your trips to different parts of the world. The voice of Mrs.Kim brought you back to the conversation.

“You see (y/n), it has been a few thousand cases in South Korea with Idols not having their soulmates around them enough. And everybody knows how wrong things can go with too little physical contact. Both idol and their soulmate would get very sick and in the worst cases die. The things that are different between other companies and ours is that we are willing to use a lot of money, time, and resources on our idol’s soulmate. Because we care and we know that it is what we must do to keep our idols healthy and happy. We have seen how much we can get back from it too. Let’s say that you are happy spending time with us in this company. That can result in you being willing to show up for events and interviews. It can make you want to work with us too, maybe within music or dance, or maybe things like doing modeling jobs. It can also mean that you may be willing to do social media stuff, it is a huge market in that now. But you are never going to want to have anything to do with us if we don’t treat you like family”

 She raised her shoulders a little, sitting more back on the couch. “However way you twist and turn around on this (y/n), you are good for the company. When this goes out into the public in just a few hours, things are going to blow up. Everyone is going to be talking about it. This is something that not only Jimin, his family, band members, and us in the company have been waiting for, but also the fans. It must be close to a gazillion hours of videos of Jimin on the Internet. A lot of those videos are him talking about you. His soulmate that he so desperately wants to find. The fans are going to be so excited for him when the news is out. So the PR is going to be amazing for the company.”

“That’s why BigHit doesn’t want much from you. The only thing that contract is requiring from you is that you don’t work for anyone else. That whatever work you want to do is going to be under BigHit, and that BigHit has the rights on whatever public works you do. It isn’t bad right?”

You nodded your head trying to digest the information. It didn’t sound bad at all. You had read so many horror stories about famous people’s soulmate being abused or taken advanced off by their soulmates company. It didn’t sound like the company that your soulmate works for did things that way. You should be happy and grateful for that you thought.

“Okay, I will sign it.” 

The next morning was the most chaotic morning you had ever experienced. 

Well not for you really. You had just been sitting at the floor with Mrs.Kim for the last hour drinking coffee and watching the moving people packing away all your stuff. But it was tiring to watch. And a little bit uncomfortable to not be helping. You had asked but all the men would just give you a smile and then bow before continuing on.You had taken that as a thank you, but no thank you. 

Everything was gone in under two hours. You didn’t have a lot of stuff, but they packed everything so neatly. It was almost painful to watch them fold every clothing item you owned perfectly before packing it away. You thought your closet was quite organized but not enough for them apparently. 

Mrs.Kim has told you that they were not Korean but Japanese. And also, that the same moving company had helped them every time the group that Jimin was a part of, had moved. They were supposedly the best of the best.

It was really quite in the streets, mostly because the clock only was eight in the morning. Most of the tourists are still asleep. So the moving crew had been able to pack everything up and leave without anyone noticing.Mrs. Kim told you that it would be best to pack up everything when there are fewer people around. The fewer the people the less attention.

The news of you and Jimin had dropped yesterday. And even though Mrs.Kim wouldn’t tell you anything, you could tell that it has become big news. She had talked on the phone for hours with someone you assumed was working for the company as well. She had talked in a low and stressful voice and even though you didn’t understand a word Korean, you knew that that conversation was something she didn’t want you to understand.

So she hasn’t told you anything though. You had tried to ask her about it but she would only answer that it was nothing for me to worry about and that it is being handled. 

You did worry though, but she didn’t give you much time to. Because as soon as the moving truck had left you were lead out to the cars as well. You would be leaving in two different cars. You, Mrs.Kim, and Junseo were leaving in one car while Seurong, Yucheon, and Hyun would leave in another. 

You and Mrs.Kim have taken the back seats as Junseo would drive. The car was filled to the brim with tension. As both you and Mrs.Kim refuse to make any eye contact. You could tell she was nervous, and it made you uneasy as well. The only comfort you got was from Junseo through the rear-view mirror as he would give you small smiles and winks whenever you would catch his gaze. 

The last days had gone by so fast. You were just happy that you had gotten the time to give everyone that was important to you on that island a goodbye in person before you left. Even though you wished you had more time with everyone you knew that if you had asked for more you would have given Mrs.Kim a heart attack. And you weren’t that keen on having to explain to the company that you had killed one of their employees. You don’t think they would be so nice to you anymore if you had.

When you were getting close to the airport you noticed Mrs.Kim straighten up. She looked more alert as she eyed the people around the airport. Then after we stopped right outside the terminal one door she let out a breath and started to look more relaxed again. She turned to Junseo and told him something in Korean with a smile. 

What suddenly made them so happy?

The door on your side suddenly opened, making you flinch before turning around to face a smirking Yucheon. You blush a little as he started to giggle of your reaction. 

“You can come out now, me and Junseo will take you to the first-class lounge so you can eat something before our plane leaves” 

Oh, so he does talk English, just with an adorable accent. 

“I am really hungry too, so you don’t have to worry about eating alone” He gave you a reassuring smile. It reached his eyes and gave him cute eye wrinkles. 

You smiled back before making a mental note of Yucheon being a potential candidate for being your future lunch buddy when your soulmate decided to ditch you.

 “Ah. Thank you, I would hate to eat alone. That’s really depressing” 

He giggled a little more before making more space for you to crawl out of the car. Junseo jumped out of the car only a second after you. Then the three of you made your way into the busy airport. Mrs.Kim hadn’t followed you and neither had Hyun. You didn’t want to ask about it, it was okay for you to not know the reason behind everything. You knew it would only make you more anxious. And you didn’t want to loos your cool when you had made it this far.

The first-class lounge was mostly empty except the few people that worked in the buffet and an old couple sitting in the corner. Yucheon had informed you that the plane didn’t leave before twelve o’clock, so the three of you had almost two hours to eat our way through the buffet.

You had gotten to know both of them a little better at that time. Yucheon was twenty-eight years old and loved food, animals, tv-dramas, and long walks by a famous river that was in Seoul. Junseo was thirty years old and loved to read, travel, play video games, and go to the gym. You liked both of them a lot and found yourself wondering if it would be possible to steal Junseo from Jimin. 

You had asked them both if they would like to join you for ice cream and a walk along the river that Yucheon talked about, both of them said they would love to but that we would have to wait until the news of you and Jimin had died down. 

Yucheon had been shocked when you confessed to not really knowing anything about Jimin. He had been even more shocked when you told him that you haven’t even searched his name on google jet. He, of course, had thought that you were at least a little curious about him. And you are, but you are also really afraid to freak yourself out before you had even met the guy. 

Naturally Yucheon and Junseo we’re both eager to tell you everything they knew, even though you interested on that they don’t. 

“You know” started Junseo.

“He really has been putting a lot of effort to make everything perfect before you come. Not just after he got the letter, but for as long as I have worked for BigHit” 

He stopped eating and laid down his fork before he leaned more back into the couch. 

“He talked about you daily, even before knowing your name. He would always say stuff like ‘I can’t wait to show her this’ or is bet she would love to see this’. It was always about you. Everything he does he does for you. I remember having to wake him up one time. He had fallen asleep in the car on the way to rehearsal. He was crying in his sleep, and when I woke him up he said ‘why does TISO use so much time to find her?’ And ‘I have paid them so much to make it go faster because I need her now. Why can’t they just find her now? I need her now.”

He picked up his fork again and took a big bite of the pasta dish he was eating.

“You know, he really is a good guy. But he has a big heart that breaks easily. So be nice to him, please. He really is trying his best. So don’t be mad at him for not knowing enough English to express himself or communicating with you properly. Just tell him it’s okay, and that you will learn together. Because I can’t handle to see him heartbroken, especially after longing for you for such a long time” 

Junseo seemed to really love Jimin. He wouldn’t have told me this if he didn’t. 

You just nodded and told him you that he didn’t have to worry. Your first language wasn’t English ether so you know that learning a new language could be hard. You wouldn’t judge someone because of it. 

By that time Mrs.Kim had called them and informed us that we could board the plane soon. You had made your way through the terminal and before you even knew you were sitting in first class on a plane ready to leave for the other side of the world.

You had never flown for more than six hours, so you were starting to feel more and more thankful for the first class tickets the longer you were in the air.

You didn’t think you would have survived in the air for so long if you had to sit in the economy.

They had served food three times throughout the flight. All of the food served were multiple courses and were served with wine. When you were not eating you enjoyed the movie collection on board. Mrs.Kim had been on a Skype call with a man you didn’t know, for a couple of hours of the flight before falling asleep. The rest of the guys seemed to be sleeping for most of the flight too. Maybe it would have been smart of you to sleep too, but you were way to nervous about landing in Seoul to fall asleep.

The thought of the cameras that would be waiting to catch a glimpse of you at the airport was all you were capable of thinking about. You were thinking about how your life would be from now on, all the media and pressure didn’t match your ideal lifestyle. You were starting to question TISO’s discovery on you and Jimin as soulmates. Maybe they did a mistake or only matched you and Jimin together because they got paid a lot by him or his company and didn’t find his soulmate fast enough.

It didn’t seem right to you.

You've dreamed of having at least five or six more years alone before being matched with a guy living a quiet and boring life. You liked quiet and boring. It made you feel safe. Your mental health wasn’t stable enough to live the life Jimin was living. You prefer to not be the center of attention and would much rather be in the corner of the room than being the one that dances in the middle.

Your thoughts were stopped by the pilot's announcement over the speakers.

“ Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into Seoul. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and make sure all your belongings are secured. Also, make sure your seat back is straight up and your seatbelt is fastened. The flight attendants will make one more round to pick up any unwanted items left. Thank you”

You looked over to Mrs.Kim. She was already looking at you. A lazy smile decorated her face. She looked so cute when she was sleepy, you wonder who was blessed with waking up to her every day.

“Are you ready (y/n)?”

You nodded. You kinda just had to be ready, because there was no way they pilots would just fly a couple of extra rounds just so you could have a little more time, now was it?

“There is no need to be nervous. I have already talked to some of our staff on the ground. They have everything under control.”

You already know that they would. The only problem is that they actually need to keep things under control. That only means it’s people waiting for you on the ground.

“(Y/n)”

You nodded and tried to give a small smile as reassurance. She didn’t need to know how much you were dying on the inside right now.

“I need you to remember to stay close to Junseo when we land. Your baggage is going to be delivered directly to the car. All you need to do is to keep your head low and your focus on Junseo. You are going to be wearing a mask and a hoodie so that the paparazzi can’t get a clear shot of you”

You almost jumped from your seat when the plain suddenly hit the ground, only the seatbelt prevented you from it.

You had missed your favorite part of any flight. To watch out the window on the city that you were gonna stay in. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be the last time you were gonna land in Seoul, so you would just have to pay more attention next time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we in emirates welcomes you to Seoul. The local time is six in the morning and the temperature is currently eighteen degrees Celsius. For your safety and for those around you, please remain seated until the ‘fasten seat belt’ sign is turned off. Thank you”

The next minutes passed almost too quickly. All of you were all packed up and on your way out of the plane in what felt like only a minute.

Mrs.Kim had given you a big pink hoodie with ‘BTS’ written on the front and a black mask. Junseo was walking in front and had his arm stretched out for you. You quickly accepted and gripped his hand hard. You swear you had seen Junseo flinch from the power of your tight hold on him.

You had walked through security control and passport control completely alone. Big Hit had to have something to do with the luxury treatment you thought.

They hadn’t asked many questions after receiving your passport and confirmation from TISO on your soulmate. They had stamped your passport and told you something in Korean before giving you a smile followed by a bow.

And then you were on your way towards a door to what you assumed was the main terminal of the airport. But nobody from your travel group told you anything. Junseo only offered his hand to you again as Mrs.Kim dragged the hood of the hoodie over your head and made sure the mask was sitting right.

“Keep your head down and don’t freeze. We have to move fast (y/n).”

“I understand” was the only thing you could think of saying. You just had to trust these people that you had only known for three days to keep you safe.

No problem.

As you got closer to the metal door you started to hear the noise from the other side. As soon as Yucheon opened the door the people on the other side exploded in screams.

You had loosened your hold on Junseo hand and tried to take a step back. But he had only fastened his hold on you and given you a thigh squeeze. Mrs.Kim placed her hand on your back before shoving you out the door.

The flashlights were blinding. You tried your hardest to keep your focus on Junseo’s moving feet and on Mrs.Kim’s hand that had made its way around your waist.

You lifted your gaze slightly. But not enough to look over Junseo’s big shoulders. You did, however, get a glimpse of the barricade that was blocking you from them. It hanged a lot of signs on it. Papers in all of the rainbow's colors with colorful writing on them.

“Welcome to Korea (y/n),” one said.

“Army supports you,” another one said.

Why the hell would the Korean army support me?

“Please tell Jimin to eat at” the rest was written in Korean. You assumed it was a restaurant or cafe.

You almost tripped when Junseo slowed down. A big revolving door was the reason for his now slower pace. But as soon as you had made your way through, you were quickly shown into a black van.

You felt as though you were finally able to breathe properly again.

Outside the airport young girls and boys were gathered. You could hear them even though the car doors were closed.

They were singing.

There was already a person ready in the driver's seat. Mrs. Kim had taken the front seat and Junseo had walked around the car to sit at your left side in the back.

You had no idea where Seurong, Yucheon, or Hyun was. But you could imagine them being in some of the surrounding vehicles.

The driver that you didn't know the name of, told Mrs. Kim something with a smile before starting to drive. The singing from the people outside the airport soon disappeared. You were left with only the motor of the car as noise. You pay close attention to everything passing by. This was the city you were most likely going to live in for all of the remaining years of your life. So you tried your best to remember buildings that looked exiting or places that you would like to later explore.

It was exciting, you couldn't lie. Seoul was truly a stunning city. It was extraordinary to see such a beautiful contrast between the old and the new buildings. You could almost feel the culture in the air as you got deeper and deeper into the city.

An extremely tall building caught your eye.

”What is that?” you asked. Everybody else that was in the car flinched. You had tried not to make your voice loud, but the car was just too quiet. Any noise that would occur would certainly scare anyone.

”what? Where?” Junseo was leaning over you to watch out your side of the car. His eyes frantically searching for whatever had caught your attention.

”that!” you tried to point your index finger as precisely a possible. Letting your finger push hard against the glass window and closing your left eye. Junseo tried to follow your finger to what it was pointing towards.

”ahh, that is lotte tower, I can take you there sometime. They have a nice bar in one of the top floors with an amazing view of Seoul” He had started at the building as he was talking to you. Your finger only left the window after he was done explaining about the tower.

The drive through the city went slow. The traffic wasn't bad, but it felt like they had a stoplight at every corner in the whole city center. But it could also be because of the awkward tension between everyone in the car. They all know that when you arrive, they are going to be the witnesses to you and Jimins first meeting.

No pressure right?

You were really nervous though. And it was uncomfortable to think about people watching your first meeting with Jimin. You found yourself wondering if that's how it's always gonna be with Jimin. He was famous after all. You had just hoped that you would have this moment for yourself.

You were starting to see that you were arriving on the rich side of town. Every building, flower, bench, and even the crosswalk looked expensive. You didn't belong here.

You suddenly stopped at a security gate. A huge fence blocking the car from continuing on driving. One of the two men guarding the gate came up to the driver's window. The other man was walking around the car and looking at me and Junseo. Mrs. Kim has just leaned over the driver to hand some papers to the security guard, not really seeming nervous about the men. They had talked only a couple of sentences each before Mrs.Kim turned around to look at me.

”This is as far as we are allowed to take you today, (y/n). These kind men will walk you up this hill to Jimins apartment. You can just walk straight in, the door is unlocked.”

You weren't ready. But then again you probably never would.

”okay, thanks guys. For the drive and all that.” you said looking down at your hands that we're lying comfortably on your lap.

”hey.” Junseo took your left hand and squeezed tightly. Then he gave you a piece of paper with his name and number on it.

”you know we are all just a phone call away if you need us. But I doubt you will. I know Jimin is gonna keep you busy. He has basically planned for this for his whole life. You are going to be eating good food, see beautiful places, have lots of fun, and meet everyone important to him. I promise you are gonna have the best time of your life, I am honestly a little afraid you might forget me after a few weeks with him.

You laughed. Tears were forming in the corner of your eyes. You couldn't tell if it was from nerves, happiness, or sadness. It almost felt like a mix of them all.

”thank you. I really appreciate you Junseo. Don't be mad though, when I start calling you about ice cream and that walk we talked about. I can be a bit annoying if things don't happen fast enough for me.”

You could see Mrs. Kim smile in the corner of your eyes.

«I like annoying.” was all Junseo said before you stepped out of the car. Only carrying your hand luggage, you had no idea when the rest would arrive.

The tall building he lived in was intimidating. It seems to reach beyond the clouds. Not the best place for one with a fear of heights, especially when he lives on the top two floors. You though the guard that followed you to the building was joking with you when he gave you a keycard to the elevator and told you to press floor number fifty-two.

The guard had let out a laugh at your reaction but did little to help you other than giving you a kind smile and a point with his index finger to the elevator.

He obviously didn't speak a word English, but you still found him cute with all his hand gestures and his broken English.

”Okay, okay, I am going don't worry. You can go down to your friend again. I just need a minute to try to calm myself before going into that death trap.”

He only let out another laugh but didn't move an inch.

Great.

You give the poor guy a smile before turning around and going into the elevator, pressing the fifty-second floor, and scanning your new keycard. You turned with your back to the door and faced the mirror that was covered the whole wall. Your make-up is completely ruined by your long journey and you find yourself regretting not using the time from the airport to jimins house to try to look at least a little more presentable.

You had decided to wear a navy blue jumpsuit. It was pretty and you slightly prayed that it would be enough to distract him from your face.

”hello.”

You haven't even noticed the elevator door opening, but as you lifted your gaze you saw his eyes on you through the mirror. He was standing in the hallway without shoes on.

He looked like an angel. Wearing all white and many accessories. The clothes he was wearing was baggy but made with a thin fabric, so thin that you could see the outline of the tattoo on his ribcage. His rings we're all gold-colored with different colored gemstones. His outfit was planned but relaxed.

Dark but gentle eyes started intensely on you. They held the stars. He had tears threatening to fall in the corners on both eyes, but you only saw it becomes the light hit his face perfectly, making his eyes shine.

He was biting the corner of his lip, as he was slightly swaying back and forth, shifting between one foot and the other.

Then you realized.

He was just as nervous as you.

”hi.”

[ggukcangetit]

Dreamcatchers 5

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Summary: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.  

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 3.7k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | A/N:  found a lovely group of people at bsh and their enthusiasm is infectious enough to get me to write a lot more than i had originally planned. reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios​ prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing! additional note: the timeline at the end of the post is what i imagine yuri and jeongguk were constructing on the station’s white board in the last scene.

20th December

Seokjin was inside his bakery, getting ready to open in a little bit, when frantic knocking interrupted him. Checking his watch, he saw that it was 6.52 am, which meant that he had 8 minutes until opening. While people in this town were known to wake up at the crack of dawn, he had never had anyone knocking at his door before opening time. A second set of knocks - much louder this time - made him rush over to the front door.

"They've arrested Jimin on suspicion of murder."

Taehyung stood there looking more lost than he had ever seen him. Even more than when he had found Seokjin months after the latter had left home. Even more than when he had been given the responsibility of taking over the company. Taehyung, who struggled to wake up in time for 10 am meetings, was wide awake before the clock struck 7 and looked like he hadn't slept a wink the previous night.

"Did you run all the way here?" Seokjin asked. Taehyung's hair looked windswept and beads of perspiration lined his forehead despite it being the middle of winter.

"Why've they arrested him? He would never do something like that!"

"Come inside first. You'll catch a cold if you stay outside like this."

Once inside, Taehyung didn't look any less perturbed - his expressive eyes glistening with many different emotions. Seokjin brought out a cup of hot chocolate and a red bean bun, sitting down opposite his younger brother.

"Now, tell me what's going on."

"Jimin was arrested last night on suspicion of murder."

"Murder? You mean Eunwoo? They think Jimin had something to do with Eunwoo's death?"

Taehyung nodded his head, the initial rush of adrenaline having worn off, leaving him looking significantly more worn out.

"Do you know why? How did you even find out? Did Jimin tell you?"

"No. Ahreum did." Taehyung rubbed his face with his hands, trying to rid himself of the terrifying thoughts rushing through his mind. "She was there when Yuri - that's her friend who's also Jeongguk's new partner - made the call. There must be some mistake!"

Seokjin bit his lip worriedly. While Jimin had been Taehyung's best friend since they were little, there was no doubt that the former led a very wild life involving many questionable escapades. He didn't know much about Yuri, but there was no doubt in his mind that Jeongguk was a very competent detective who knew what he was doing.

"I don't know what I should do." Taehyung's voice, jolted him out of his thoughts. "I should go down to the station, shouldn't I? Jimin probably needs someone there with him. What about getting a lawyer? Should we ask Namjoon? I-"

"Slow down, Taehyung," Seokjin said, patting his brother's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure Jimin's gotten a lawyer himself. His family has a lot of resources. But if you want, you can drop by the station in case he needs something."

"Y-yeah, I should do that. I'll go right now. I- Shit!" Taehyung patted his coat pockets frantically. "I can't find my car keys!"

"You didn't drive here," reminded Seokjin, gently. "Do you want me to drive you there?"

The bell hanging above the front door jingled softly at that moment, signalling Seokjin's first customer of the day.

"No, you shouldn’t leave your bakery. It would be bad for business." Taehyung shook his head, the helpless look in his eyes not leaving him despite his conviction to leave his brother out of this.

"Why don't you ask Ahreum if she can give you a lift? Isn't she usually up by this time?"

"You're right! I'll do that!"

Seokjin busied himself with the customer who had just come in, his eyes wandering towards his brother ever so often. Ahreum picked him up 15 minutes later, but Seokjin couldn't shake off the worried feeling he had gotten after seeing Taehyung so frantic and helpless.

...

Yuri had reached the station at 6 that morning. She hadn't slept last night, going through every inch of evidence and every statement they had taken related to Kang Eunwoo's murder. Her stomach had dropped when she had read the email from Seulgi last night. It wasn't that she was convinced that Jimin was a saint who had nothing to do with this, but the fact that he had finally decided to give a blood sample suggested either that he was innocent, or that he was guilty but somehow knew that he would be able to escape the charges. Both options did not bode well with her.

Jeon arrived around half past 6, the bags under his eyes suggesting that he had also had a sleepless night. He didn't say anything, just heading straight for his desk and pouring over a set of files like he had a final exam he was cramming for.

Chief Inspector Goh had spoken to both of them on a conference call last night once news of Jimin's arrest had been confirmed.

"Are we completely sure about this?" His voice hoarse, indicating that the call had disturbed his slumber.

"Yes, sir," Yuri replied, not waiting for her partner to chip in. She was the one who had received the email from Seulgi, she had been the one to convince Jimin for a blood sample - this was her line of inquiry. Which made her all the more nervous.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind either of you that the Parks are difficult customers. Young Mr. Park does not have a criminal record despite his many infractions over the years."

"We are aware, sir." Jeon answered this time, being more familiar with the social landscape than Yuri. "Everything will be carried out according to proper procedure."

"Good. Be prepared to deal with lawyers as well. I have a suspicion that that bastard Song will be representing the Park boy tomorrow. Jeongguk, I'm sure you're aware of his reputation and the kinds of clients he usually represents."

Yuri did not know about this particular lawyer, but made a note to look up his previous cases to get an understanding of what they were up against. She had no doubt that Jeon would be as unhelpful as he had been since she had first arrived.

"You can't start the interview before 8 am, but given that he was arrested just before midnight, we will have lost 8 precious hours out of the total 48 before we have to either charge him or release him on bail. Be clear, be smart, and do not allow anyone to string you along."

"Yes, sir." They both replied, before ending the call.

"Do you want to go over the interview strategy?"

Jeon's words took Yuri by surprise. She had been expecting a cold shoulder at best, and unfiltered hostility at worst.

"Y-yeah sure," she replied, turning her chair around to find that he had moved over to her side of the cubicle already.

"I think we should lead with the blood match," he continued, frowning at a sheet of paper. "What do you think?"

"While that is the most efficient way to approach it," said Yuri, pausing to organize her thoughts. "We could also press him to provide us with an alibi."

"Why'd you think that?"

Yuri tapped her fingers on the table, wondering how far she should try and explain her idea to Jeon. "I just... He was very uncooperative about providing an alibi last time. But then he came down and voluntarily gave a blood sample, which has put him in a much worse position than not providing an alibi. I don't know why he would refuse the low risk option in favor of the high risk one."

Jeon scoffed. "Well you clearly don't know Jimin then."

"Well obviously not like you lot do," she frowned, folding her arms across her chest.

"Don't get me wrong," he continued, leaning against the divider. "Your confusion is completely valid, but this behavior is very much in character for Jimin."

"How'd you mean?"

"He's a loose canon. He has no regard for authority - half of what he does is to piss off people in power or positions of authority. Jimin's always been like that as far as I can remember. But-" he paused and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly - "this is much more serious. This is murder."

Yuri pressed her lips together, wondering how difficult the interview was going to be.

8 am

"You are aware that you have been arrested on suspicion of the murder of Kang Eunwoo on 16th December."

Park Jimin looked very different from the previous few times Yuri had met him. His silver hair was devoid of any gel, making him look drastically younger. He was not wearing expensive lounge wear like he had been during the previous interview. The only thing that remained unchanged was the emotionless look in his cold grey eyes.

His lawyer, on the other hand, looked quite cheerful - smug even. As if he knew in advance that his client would get off without any charges no matter how serious the offense.

"When you were here a couple of days ago, we asked you where you were on the night of December 15th. And you did not provide us with an answer." Yuri paused, trying in vain to discern something from Jimin's expression. "So let me ask you again - where were you on the night of December 15th?"

"No comment."

"I must impress upon you the importance of this matter. You are the prime suspect in the murder of a rival family's heir. If you do not provide an alibi, we will be forced to assume that you do not have one."

Silence.

"Your blood was found on the victim's clothes." Jeon took over, moving along to the main line of inquiry. "What can you tell us about that?"

"No comment."

"The victim's father says that you visited their house on the night that the victim was murdered. What do you have to say about that?"

"No comment."

This was not going any better than the previous interview. In fact, Yuri thought this one was much worse. Even though they should have had the upper hand, Jimin's unperturbed, stoic expression indicated otherwise. The blood on the sleeve was enough to charge him, but with the Park family's resources there was always a chance that Jimin would be able to get off in court. Which was why they needed to build a stronger case against him.

Jeon continued persisting with the questions, receiving an emotionless "no comment" every time. The lawyer looked rather relaxed, and Yuri tried her best to avoid looking at him. Instead, she focused on Jimin. Everything about him was unreadable - his eyes, his body language, his face, his tone of voice. Despite his more casual appearance this time around, his fingers were still adorned with multiple rings. Her eyes lingered briefly on his hands, absentmindedly counting the number of rings when something struck her.

Jeon had paused to look through his notes, and Yuri took this opportunity to dive in.

"Mr. Park," she began, placing a hand on Jeon's knee to stop him from interrupting her. "I noticed that you always wear a lot of rings on your fingers."

"As far as I can remember, DI Choi," said Jimin's lawyer. "Wearing a lot of rings is not a criminal offense."

"And I commend you on your immaculate memory," she replied, dryly. "Getting back to what I was saying, you wear a lot of rings. Are they supposed to be a fashion statement? Or do they have some greater significance?"

Jimin's expression flickered for the briefest of moments.

"For example," she continued, indicating the ring on the little finger of his left hand. "That's an unusual design - quite old-fashioned compared to the rest of your rings. Is there anything special about that ring?"

"I don't understand how this is relev-"

"Then why don't you let your client answer himself."

For the first time since the interview had begun, Jimin's posture changed slightly. "That ring belonged to my mother."

"I see... that must hold a lot of emotions for you." Yuri removed her hand from Jeon's thigh, indicating that he could continue. He didn't say anything to her, preferring to hold eye-contact for a few meaningful seconds

"I'm going to ask you one last time," he said, taking over once again. "Where were you on the night of December 15th?"

"No comment."

...

"What was that about?" asked Jeon, once they were out of the interview room.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," he sighed in exasperation. "The ring, Choi."

"Just wanted to bring down his guard a bit," she shrugged.

He looked unconvinced, but dropped it seeing as they had more pressing things to deal with at the moment. Shaking his head, he went into Goh's room to update him on the outcome of the interview.

Making sure that the door to the Chief Inspector's room had been shut completely, Yuri switched on her laptop and pulled up every bit of information she had on Jimin. Even though she had gone over it less than 2 days ago, there were some things she needed to confirm. If what she thought was even remotely possible, they had been looking at things wrong the entire time.

"Hello? Telecoms Division? This DI Choi Yuri, badge number XXXX. I wanted to check whether this phone number is currently being used in Korea. Yes, I'll hold."

She tapped her fingers on the desk nervously, hoping she could get the information before Jeon came back. While it was true that he hadn't been openly hostile with her over the past 24 hours or so, she didn't want to risk pissing him off without something concrete.

"Yes, I'm still here," she breathed a sigh of relief when the person on the other end of the line took her off hold. "Really? Okay. And can you tell me if the number was being used overseas at any point in the past 2 months? I see... Would it be possible to send this to my official email? Great! Thank you very much for your help."

A couple of minutes later, Yuri's laptop pinged, indicating a new email. She read through everything carefully- once, twice, making sure she had gotten everything down accurately.

Fuck...

"Going somewhere?" Chief Inspector Goh walked out of his office to see Yuri putting on her coat and packing her bag.

"I- uh- yes."

"There's a lot of paperwork that has to be done, I'm afraid," he continued, checking messages on his phone. "You and Jeongguk will probably need to be here well past usual hours."

"Of course, sir." Yuri shrugged off her coat and sat down with a sigh.

6 pm

Seven hours. It had been seven hours since Yuri and Jeon had begun working their way through the piles of paperwork Goh had instructed them to finish.

"I'm hungry." Jeon stretched his arms above his head, yawning with his entire being. "Do you wanna get some takeout?"

"What?" Yuri looked up from the page she had been trying to read for the past fifteen minutes. Her eyes were glazing over with exhaustion.

"Food. Dinner. Sustenance."

"Y-yeah," Yuri blinked her eyes rapidly. "Sorry what were you saying?"

"You know what? Never mind. I'm just ordering a bunch of things- " He unlocked his phone and began typing away furiously. "Eat whatever you like from there."

Yuri gazed at him for a few moments, trying to reorient herself with the three dimensional world. She noticed that he was sitting on the swivel chair with his feet tucked beneath him - something oddly endearing which didn't really fit her image of him.

"I like dumplings," she said, more to herself than anyone else.

Jeon smirked but didn't say anything.

Half an hour later, a dozen or so takeout containers lay open in front of them - occupying more of Yuri's desk than Jeon's, much to her annoyance. He had rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt, slurping the hot noodles rather noisily.

Yuri threw him a quick glare and reached over to pick up a couple of fried chicken pieces.

"So why'd you ask Jimin about the ring?"

"I see you haven't forgotten about that," Yuri rolled her eyes, biting into the juicy meat.

"It was too specific to be a random thought," he shrugged. "So, are you gonna tell me or...?"

"I don't know if I can trust you, Jeon," she replied, simply.

"W-what?" he spluttered on the noodles, gulping some water to stop choking. "I'm your partner! Why can't you trust me?"

"I don't know..." Yuri tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Is it because you only glared at me on my first day? Or is it because you haven't greeted me civilly even once since I joined? Ooh, I know! Maybe its all of these combined with the fact that you've been an uncooperative bastard since I got here."

Jeon stared at her guiltily, his eyes widening considerably - giving him an expression akin to a deer caught in the headlights. "You're right. I apologize for that."

"Against my better judgment, I'll accept your apology. But you have Yoongi to thank for that."

Jeon smiled into his noodles at the mention of Yoongi.

"You also have Yoongi to thank for what I did yesterday," she continued, setting down the empty container. "I nicked your 2nd Nov case file and went through it."

"You what? When?!"

Yuri waved her hand dismissively. "Details. Unimportant. Yoongi suggested I should and I did. But that's not what I wanted to talk about."

"Anything else of mine you've nicked in the 5 days that you've been here?" grumbled Jeon, but there was no real bitterness in his tone.

Ignoring his comment, she pulled out her phone from the charging socket. "The reason I asked Jimin about his rings, is this -" she scrolled up to a particular picture and passed the phone over to him - "The ring found at the 2nd Nov crime scene is identical to the one Jimin wears on his left little finger."

"Are you sure...?" Jeon asked, raising an eyebrow uncertainly. "Even if it is, what's to say there aren't hundreds of other identical rings belonging to people across the country?"

"I did think that initially," Yuri took her phone back, and pulled up another image. "Which is why I asked Jimin about it during the interview. He said that it belonged to his mother. I'm sure you know this much better than I do but the late Mrs. Park came from a very old, distinguished family. That ring that Jimin was wearing is a family heirloom - from his mother's side. Here's an article that covered heirlooms of famous families in Korea, and it mentions the Park family."

Jeon took the phone from her, a frown forming on his face. The article was dated around 3 years ago.

"According to the article, there were three rings in total. One that belonged to Mrs. Park - which was buried with her after her death - and two others belonging to Jimin and his older brother Minhyuk. Not just that, there's a picture of Jimin and Minhyuk in the article, where they're both wearing the rings."

"Shit... You're right." Jeon pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "During the investigation, we just assumed that the ring belonged to the victim and had slipped off her finger during the struggle."

"Three rings," said Yuri. "One that has presumably been buried in a grave for over 10 years. One that was definitely on Jimin's finger today. And one that was found at the 2nd Nov crime scene."

"Minhyuk? You think he had something to do with it?" asked Jeon, sharply. "It was pretty clear that the drunk and homeless father of her child had stabbed her."

"Hear me out," she continued, opening her laptop this time. The food lay forgotten at this point. "I went through what we know about the victim - paints a pretty tragic picture. Although it wasn't always like that for her. She worked for a few years, saved up enough money before enrolling into a professional degree program at Busan National University."

"Yeah, so what?"

"Her time at Busan National University coincided with Park Minhyuk's Masters program."

"What?"

"Yeah, but," she continued, finding the university website. "She dropped out after less than a year because her father passed away, leaving behind a huge pile of debt. We know that her mother had passed away when she was about 10. Now if you look at her daughter's birth certificate, it would appear that she got pregnant while she was still enrolled at the university."

"Are you saying the baby was his?! There's a pretty big stretch from attended university at the same time to father of her child."

"Let me finish, would you?" she groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Fine, go ahead."

"In order to see if they were acquainted with one another, I resorted to the most informative source available - social media. Our victim didn't have much of a social media presence, but I scrolled through anything and everything Park Minhyuk has been tagged in. And guess what I found?"

Jeon stopped eating, and moved closer to the screen to see a picture of a few university students having a picnic together. It was dated January 2016, and two of the people in the picture were recognizable immediately.

"Holy shit! They did know each other! And quite well apparently." Jeon wheeled his chair forward, bumping into her chair in the process. "Shit, sorry."

Yuri rolled her eyes and moved out of his way. She had no desire to get slammed into again.

"Since I'm not part of the original investigation, I thought of checking whether Park Minhyuk was in the country around the time of the stabbing with a different excuse. I called the company, asking if he was available to chat about Jimin. They said he's abroad at the moment. Has been since October, apparently. But- " she rummaged through the papers on her desk before finding the post-it she had hurriedly scribbled on a few hours ago - "Telecoms did an analysis and found that his cell phone has been operating in Korea for a while now. So...?"

"Either someone else has gotten a hold of Park Minhyuk's cell phone," said Jeon, frowning thoughtfully. "Or the Parks are knee-deep in murder and perjury."

XXX

a/n: sorry there was such a huge delay between chapters. i was writing out some of the chapters beforehand so that there wouldn’t be too many plot inconsistencies.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

discovery

a/n: I posted the first chapter and was overwhelmed by the fact that people  actually liked it??? that I decided to ignore my homework that I definitely should be doing to write this. this chapter definitely plays more on SVU, so sorry for the name-drop of people you may not know if you aren’t an SVU fan

main masterlist | the choices we make masterlist | story description | what’s left of us | recognize you

summary: ADA Gray is thriving, just ask any of her fellow ADAs or the detectives at Manhattan’s Special Victims Unit. So shouldn’t the discovery of a brother she never knew about make her feel like her world is collapsing in on her?

warnings: reference to TUA canon death/murders, swearing

word count: 1,587

Elena laughed, holding the door open for Detectives Sonny Carisi and Fin Tutuloa to follow her in the building. Fin had just made a snarky comment that had caused Sonny to roll his eyes and for the blonde to start laughing. She waved to Angela, the woman who worked at the front desk of 1 Hogan Place. The detectives followed her to her office, where they were planning to meet Barba, Liv, and Amanda to discuss to the latest on one of their cases. It had been a complicated case, and a bit of a high profile one, so the DA had assigned both Barba and Elena to work on the case with the SVU detectives. Stone had been gone on vacation when it had happened, thus it was Elena’s case as she worked both Homicide and SVU cases. 

She approached Lucy, who had quickly become one of her closest friends after getting a job as an ADA. “Hey Lucy.” She greeted. The girl smiled. 

“You have a letter.” Lucy said, pulling a draw open and retrieving an envelope from inside. She turned in confusion, moving away from the office door to grab the letter from Lucy. At that moment, Barba, Liv, and Amanda approached the desk, ready for their meeting. “No Dodds?” Lucy asked as Elena grabbed the letter from her outstretched hand. Liv shook her head.

“No, he’s on a trip.” 

“How was court?” Rafael asked, and Elena shrugged. 

“It was court. You know the usual.” Elena’s eyes never tore away from the letter. It just had her first and last name written on, in a somewhat sprawling handwriting. “Lucy, who’s this from?” Elena asked, the curiosity rising in her voice. She sighed. 

“That’s the interesting thing.” Elena’s eyes flicked up to meet her friend’s but only for a moment. “Luther Hargreeves dropped that off. Wanted to make sure it got to you.” Elena’s head shot up. “Mhmm, that’s what I was thinking.” Elena shook her head. 

“Strange.” She said, moving to open the door of her office. The detectives followed her in and she moved to her desk, pulling off her jacket. It was an unusually chilly day in the city for almost June. 

“Wonder what Luther Hargreeves wants with you.” Liv said, setting a file down on the desk. Elena shrugged. 

“Maybe one of his siblings got in trouble again and he’s come to ask for your expertise lawyer help.” Amanda joked and Elena laughed. 

“Probably.” She said as she sat down, tossing the letter on her desk. 

“Man I still can’t believe both of them got off.” Fin said pulling a chair up to the desk. Carisi shook his head. 

“Wonder what the DA was thinking. Oh sure, we’ll just ignore the fact that these people committed crimes because they’re special.” Carisi said, the disgust evident in his voice. The Hargreeves cases had left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, but especially in New York’s legal field and police officers. 

“Didn't you use to love Allison’s movies?” Amanda replied, shooting Sonny a look. 

“Yeah, but then her brother went and killed a cop. And got away with it.” Sonny said, as he sat down. “Plus, after that custody battle, what she did to her kid... she’s not someone I want to support.” Barba made a face of agreement as he sat down directly across from Elena. 

“Alright, the Taylor’s case. What do you have?” Elena asked, diverting their attention to the important matter at hand.

-

Elena sighed, pulling her hair up into a ponytail as her food cooked in the oven. It had been one of those days and she had just gotten back to her apartment, so pizza rolls for dinner it was. Barba often teased her for eating like a college student but she always shot back that at least she wasn’t shelling out a good chunk of money on sushi all the time. As her food cooked, she shifted through the files she had brought back with her, intending to do a bit more work before heading to bed for the night. The letter she had so quickly forgotten about from earlier in the day slipped out and she picked it up. She took a deep breath as her thumb slid through the top. She pulled the paper out and unfolded it. Holy shit. 

Hi, 

My name’s Luther. Well, you probably already know that I guess. I’m sure you’ve heard about my siblings and I from our superhero days, if not from the days of Diego running from the police and Allison’s stardom. If you haven’t, then I guess I should explain it. My name’s Luther Hargreeves, and I’m Number One out of 7 from The Umbrella Academy. On October 1st, 1989, we were all born to women who weren't previously pregnant, all at the same time. There was 43 of us, in total, as we just learned. Our father, Reginald Hargreeves, who was a millionaire, offered large sum of money to our mothers for us and turned us into his superhuman crimefighting soldiers by the time we were teens. 

The reason I’m telling you this is because we recently found all our files with our information about our biological parents, which is how I found you. You’re my sister, my biological one. And, I’d love a relationship with you, if you want that. If not, please feel free to disregard this letter like you never read it. 

Luther

He left what she was assuming was his phone number at the bottom of the paper. Elena dropped the paper on to the counter, taking a shaky breath, gripping the counter. Luther.. her brother? Unlikely... and yet, not impossible. She had always felt there was something about her parents divorce they weren’t telling her. But still, she’d grown up low income most of her life, and had only become financially stable once she’d secured her job as an ADA. The DA’s office paid a pretty penny, thankfully. So the question was, where’d that sum of money go?

The real question was, did she want to reach out to him? She was curious about him, especially because she didn’t talk to her other siblings. He probably had million of questions about their family, rightfully so. But his family did not have a good reputation. Allison had had a very public and nasty custody battle that had dragged out everything. Vanya had killed her boyfriend, albeit the case seemed to scream self defense. Diego had killed a cop for goodness sake... but even then the facts of the case seemed so murky to everyone outside of Diego’s legal team and the investigators. Establishing a relationship with Luther, getting involved with that family, she might as well kiss her job goodbye. Jack McCoy, Manhattan District Attorney, had made it abundantly clear where he stood on the line of the Hargreeves. If he knew, well, it would be bye-bye to the best job she’d ever had and all the friends, the family, she’d made here in New York. The oven beeped, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, moving to grab the food. What was she going to do?

-

She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she took a sip of her soda, waiting for Luther. It had taken a few days but she had called him early one morning, asking if he wanted to meet for lunch that day. He had agreed, and at the time she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement that she was going to actually meet him. But as time passed and he hadn’t showed, she was starting to wonder if this was some sort of test from the DA’s office to see where her loyalties lied... or something. It sounded ridiculous, she knew that, but she couldn’t keep her brain from wandering. She glanced at the time on her phone again and sighed. He wasn’t late by any means, she was just ridiculously early. After hours, it seemed, which was probably only ten minutes or so, a large man walked into the restaurant and her heart skipped a beat. That had to be him. His eyes scanned the area until he turned to the hostess. The hostess led him to where she sat and he smiled at her tentatively as he sat down. The place was nice, situated outside, and it was a warm day, making the noise of New York City that much livelier as people walked past, enjoying the day. She’d chosen it specifically because of that, and the fact that it was out fo the way of the courthouse and precinct, meaning there was a low chance anyone from work would see her. She offered him a nervous smile as she took in his appearance. Large build, blonde hair (like hers), brown eyes (what color were her eyes again?), tall. She vaguely heard the hostess ask for what he’d like to drink and him responding with water. he turned his attention back to her. “Hi, I’m Luther.”

“Elena.” she said, nodding at him. She took in a deep breath, folding her hands. “I’m sure you have lots of questions.” He nodded. “Well, ask away.” He took a deep breath, seemingly trying to figure what to ask first. 

“So... DA’s office, huh?” She nodded. “And three siblings, can’t imagine that was a peaceful household.” She chuckled, shaking her head. 

“I don’t think we ever stopped fighting.” He laughed. 

“Try six.” He joked, and she laughed freely. 

“I couldn’t even begin to imagine.”

[lovemollywho]

Bitter Rivals

Okay this is dedicated to @starseternalnighttriumphant because she is literally one of my favorite Rowaelin writters (Hannah, theres a little shout out to you, you’ll know it when you see it lol)

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

“I swear the next time that pompous dick face asshole even looks at me, I swear - I swear Elide that I’m going to take my $4,000 dollar Louboutin’s and stab him.” Aelin let out a frustrated groan in her throat as she stacked together case files to take home for the night. Elide stood in the doorway of Aelin’s office watching her friend and boss pace back and forth grabbing various objects and stuffing them in her bag. 

“I take it the meeting with the new Mr. Whitethorn didn’t go as planned?” Elide asked wondering when Aelin was going to notice that she had started to throw random things in her bag and not the case files she needed. 

“Oh that’s for sure,” Aelin said waving a box of tissues in her hand. “First he wants to come in like if he owns the place, classic alpha type you know? But then what really gets me is he had the gall, the fucking nerve, to look me up and down, head to toe and then walk away! The buzzard didn’t even say anything to me! Just gave me this once over, sat down, and proceeded to ignore me the rest of the meeting.” Aelin finally noticed the box of tissues in her hand and all the random junk that she had placed in her bag. Huffing she started to pull things out and Elide did her best not to laugh.

In all reality Aelin was used to people, men, in particular, sizing her up only to underestimate her in the end. It was something that she thrived on adding fuel to her fire. But when Rowan Whitethorn the newest addition to their law firm came swaggering in and dismissed her completely something in her blood boiled over into a hot rage. It didn’t help that he was tall, muscular, and looked like he could definitely act out a scene in one of her many romance novels. He wanted to act like an arrogant jerk so in Aelin’s mind he would be treated as such and therefore off-limits. 

“Well here’s some news that might make you feel a bit better.” Elide said walking into Aelin’s office and sitting down, “The paralegal gossip network has been whispering that the higher-ups are starting to look for candidates to promote to partner and,” Elide paused for effect, “It seems you are the top of the list!” The smile that broke across Aelin’s face was so big that Elide wondered if it hurt. Aelin jumped up and down in joy before regaining her composure. 

“Whew okay, no big deal that’s cool. Besides, it’s not like I’ve gotten the promotion yet anyway. Do we know who the other people on the list are?” Elide shook her head.

“Not that I’ve heard, but the moment I’ve found something out I’ll let you know.” Aelin nodded and gathered her bag and purse ready to leave for the day, Elide doing the same but instead of walking towards the elevator Aelin veered towards the right. Elide paused and gave her a quizzical look, Aelin giving her a secret smile said, “I hid some of the chocolate bark that Lys made for the office.” Elide scoffed a laugh and continued on leaving Aelin to have her end of day snack. 

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

Thirty minutes later Aelin had combed the office kitchen not once, not twice but five times looking for her secret stash of goodies but to no avail. A part of her knew that she could just ask Lysandra to make her some more but another part of her was frustrated at whoever had found the chocolate that she had clearly been hiding. Finally deciding to give up she jumped when someone cleared their throat behind her. 

“Is there a reason you’re tearing up the kitchen so late in the day?” Aelin turned around to see Rowan Whitethorn casually leaning against the entrance to the kitchen. Aelin’s eyes narrowed on the twig-like object in his hands. As if knowing exactly what he was doing, Rowan brought the chocolate bark up to his mouth and bit off a piece.

“You!” Aelin accused finger-pointing at Rowan. “You ate my chocolate!” Rowan looked at the piece of chocolate in his hands before bringing it to his mouth again this time taking a bigger bite finishing it off. He dusted his hands off before putting them in his pocket. 

“I didn’t realize they were yours.” He said giving his shoulders a shrug. Aelin wanted to smack the smug look off of his face but instead grabbed her bag that she had put down when looking for her missing snack. 

“Oh, so the chocolate that was clearly on the top shelf with multiple items in front of it, hidden from view. You didn’t think that it was someone’s and they were hiding it?” Aelin scoffed and moved to go around Rowan. 

“There were some on the counter in the glass jar, why didn’t you eat those instead?” Aelin asked moving out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

“They were dark chocolate. Dark chocolate is too bitter and when I was looking in the cabinet for something else to eat, I found the milk chocolate ones.”

“Because I was hiding them!” Aelin huffed. She didn’t know what was going on with her, usually, she was more calm and collected than this, but Rowan had gotten in the way between her and something sweet. It didn’t matter that he had rolled up his white button-up sleeves and she could see the whorls of tattoos on his ridiculously toned forearms - seriously that’s not a part of the body that should even be attractive. 

“Oh Aelin you’re still here, good.” Aelin turned to see Arobynn Hamel, one of the law firms partners walking towards her. She sighed internally and plastered on a smile. 

“Arobynn.” She nodded in acknowledgment. 

“I need to talk to you about something.” Rowan stepped out of the kitchen and into the hallway with Aelin. Arobynn’s eyes flicked to him before turning back to Aelin. “Oh good you’re both here then.”

Aelin was curious to know what Arobynn could need the two of them for.

“I’m sure both of you are aware that we are looking at possible new partners. I wanted to let you both know that you are on that list and tomorrow morning at our monthly check-in meeting we’ll go over some projects and cases that we want you to work on together.” Aelin felt like she had just gotten hit with a fright truck but her smile stayed in place. Arobynn touched his hand to Aelin’s shoulder and then walked away. Without another look or word to Rowan she walked away. 

------------- 

“Can you believe?!” Aelin said pouring herself another glass of wine before offering to pour Lysandra one. Lysandra held out her glass and watched with a smile as Aelin filled it up. 

“I mean first the bastard doesn’t say a word to me, and then he eats my chocolate, which by the way should be punishable by death, I should know, I’m a lawyer. But then he’s my rival for the partner position?! I swear Lys, I don’t know what I did wrong in my past life or what my ancestors did wrong but this sucks. It sucks.” She took a big gulp out of her glass before picking up one of the cupcakes Lys had baked before Aelin came over. 

“So what are you going to do?” Lys said taking a sip out of her glass.

“I don’t know, I don’t know what they’re gonna ask us to do, you know?” 

“Well let’s worry about that tomorrow then, have you heard about his new Polish movie that’s apparently better than 50 shades?” Lys asked picking up the remote to turn on the TV.

“Um what? I wanna watch.” Aelin picked up another cupcake before snuggling into the couch.

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

The next morning Aelin walked into her morning meeting with a chocolate croissant and three shots of espresso over ice with sugar and cream. She sat down at her normal spot by the window and brought out her phone to look over emails when Rowan sat down next to her. She tried her best to ignore him but when he started tapping his pen on the legal pad in front of him Aelin had to put down her phone before she threw it at his head. 

Before she could say something to him Arobynn walked in with three other men and two women one of them Clarisse and the others Aelin had met on various occasions but could not recall the names of. 

“Ah good, you’re both here.” As everyone sat down Aelin sat up straighter. This was her chance to become a partner, something that she had been working towards since she started at Hammel and DuVency six years ago. 

“Let’s get started then.” Clarisse templed her hands in front of her, “Arobynn informed the two of you of the opportunity to make partner, but rather than look at your individual cases and workloads we want to see how the two of you work together.” Elide walked in the room and handed both Rowan and Aelin some files before sitting down. 

“This is Dorian Havilliard, I’m sure that you’ve seen him in the news recently. Currently he’s being sued by his father, Dorian Senior, over a breach in a business contract that they had. We will be representing the younger Dorian and I want the two of you to work this case together.” 

“With all due respect,” Rowan chimed in. “Why?”

Arobynn responded, “This is a high profile case, and both of you are good looking to deal with the press. You also both have a stunning amount of wins which should make this easy. Ms. Lochan here will assist the two of you during this time.” Aelin nodded and pulled out her phone to send a quick text to Lys. 

“Anything else we should know moving forward?” Aelin asked, scanning through the case file. If all she had to do was to win this case to prove that she was better than Rowan then the partnership was as good as hers. 

“No, we will leave you two to discuss the important matter of the case amongst yourself,” Clarisse said standing up. “Please remember that we’ll be watching how the two of you work together during this time.” With that they all stood up and walked out of the room.

“Elide, could you get me all the files from the 2012 White Wolf case, they had a case similar to this, and pull any other files you can find on Dorian Senior, he wouldn’t be suing his son if it wasn’t important.” Aelin listed off, Elide nodding as she took notes.

“What makes you think that Dorian Senior is the one to blame?” Rowan asked. Aelin didn’t look at him as she continued to scan the file in front of her. “Because I’m not being paid to believe otherwise.” With that she stood up and walked out of the room. 

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

Around lunchtime, Lysandra walked in holding a small green box that was trademarked to her bakery. She knocked and Aelin’s head shot up before a smile took over her face.

“Yeah! You brought it!” Aelin said getting up from her chair to hug her best friend. 

“I also brought some food from Emrys,” she said holding up a takeout bag which she pulled out of Aelin’s reach, when she pouted Lys said “And, a slice of his chocolate cake.” Aelin jumped up and down grabbing the bag from Lys before pulling out a couple of fries to eat before splitting up the food between her and Lysandra.

“I love you Lys, and I love your baking but nothing will ever beat Emrys’s chocolate cake, I swear he puts crack in it.” Lys laughed at her friend taking a bite out of her own burger. 

“So you gonna tell me why you needed me to make you chocolate?” 

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

After Lysandra left, Aelin took the box of chocolate up a floor to Rowan’s office. His office door was open but he was on a call, his back towards the door. Aelin knocked tentatively, when he turned around and saw her he placed one finger up telling her he would be just a minute. 

“I understand that, but in the meantime I don’t want him anywhere near his son. We’ll file a restraining order on him, I can get a judge to sign it in,” Rowan looked at his wristwatch, “about an hour. Does that work?” Rowan nodded his head to whoever was on the phone before setting it back on the receiver.  He walked around his desk to the front and leaned against it, crossing on leg over the other. 

Damn it, he was attractive. 

“I came to bring you this,” Aelin said handing over the green box that Lysandra brought earlier. He lifted a silver eyebrow at her. Aelin shrugged and smiled. 

“I realized that we might have gotten off on the wrong foot so I wanted to give you a little something so that you know where we stand. Rowan opened the box while Aelin’s smile grew brighter. 

“What is this?” Rowan asked, still staring at the contents inside the box. 

“It's homemade dark chocolate, your favorite.” Rowan lifted the box towards Aelin where she could see the message written inside.

“Oh, that. That’s from me.” The words ‘Rival Confirmed’ were written across the assortment of chocolate sweets that Lysandra had put together for Aelin.

“Anyway, looking forward to working with you.” Aelin turned and walked out the door feeling much more satisfied than the day before. 

Tags:

@safewithintheheart

@bibliophileaddict

@acer6437

@bamchickawowow  

[eryiss]

Chapter Five -  The Cut

Summary: Freed and Laxus live incredibly different lives. Freed is a corporate lawyer in the capital city, and Laxus works as a handyman in a countryside hotel. Despite their differences, their lives collide when Freed inherits a house in Laxus’ village, and hires him to make the derelict building liveable. But the closer they get, the more they seem to offer each other. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter]

This was written as my admission for Fraxus Day 2020, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. Hope you enjoy it. Also, this chapter has mentions of bullying and descriptions of blood,

You can read this under the cut, on Fanfiction, or on Archive of Our Own. You can find the chapter masterpost here.

Chapter Five – The Cut

Melancholy wasn't the word. It wasn't.

Freed wasn't the type of person to get melancholy, he had never been governed by his emotions at all. He didn't look back on things fondly, nor did he feel a sense of sadness when parts of his life were over. Yes, of course things did make him emotional, but he was by no means the type of person to feel sad because something was over. Life moved on quickly, and so must he. It was the rational way to live his life.

It was a mantra he found himself repeating over and over again, as he walked through the house.

The nearly finished house.

The place was by no means a model home, but it worked as it needed to. Windows had been fixed, plumbing and electricals repaired, and structure reinforced. Walls were still stripped with remnants of old-fashioned wallpaper sticking to it, and the floorboards were bare, but it was a house again. It needed love, attention, and upgrading for anyone to actually want it. But it was liveable. Exactly what Freed had wanted. So, following the logic he lived his life by, he should want to sell the place instantly and get back to Era and work on his next case. It was the next logical step, and exactly what he should be doing.

Of course, he wasn't. Because despite it being in contrast with how he'd always lived, Freed felt an odd sense of reluctance to leave. He found himself more than once hovering over the call button on Gildarts' phone number, only to return his phone to his pocket with a muttered complaint of annoyance at himself.

It was pathetic really.

He tried to rationalise it, give his feeling a pragmatic explanation. He said it was because the house was an achievement for him. Something he had done with his hands. A practical achievement that stood out to him because most of his notable work was with the mind. And why would he want to leave something like that? It was a monument to what he could do when he put his mind to it, and he was proud.

But that was a lie, he knew that. The real reason he didn't want to sell the house was because it was the only thing tying him to Magnolia. And he wasn't ready to leave it yet.

Yes, of course he didn't need to own a house to visit the town. He had gained a solid friendship with Laxus, and had gained acquaintances with Laxus' own friends, and so he could justify visiting them from time to time. But the issue lay in that he didn't really want to come back from time to time. He'd gotten used to visiting for the weekends, and he didn't want to stop.

And he couldn't do that now. Not without everyone in the gossiping village knowing why he returned. Because they would, they'd see through it like glass, and Freed wasn't able to deal with that.

He wasn't good at being embarrassed. Never had been.

There were few situations in his life where he had actually been embarrassed, something that happened by design. There had been a few unfortunate instances in his teenage years that find themselves replaying in his head on random nights. So he had made a conscious effort to avoid any situation where embarrassment might occur. It was working well, all in all, and yet this village had this effect on him that made him question the choices that had kept him sane so far.

Freed shook his head. He wasn't getting melancholy, and he certainly wasn't getting self-reflective.

It did nobody any good.

He took a small sponge and slowly wiped down the table in Albion House's kitchen. It had been there when Freed had inherited it, and after Laxus had sanded it down and polished it, it was as workable as the rest of the house. Tonight was the first time the table was going to be used for its actual purpose. He and Laxus were going to have a meal together.

That didn't help the situation.

Because, clearly there was something more. Magnolia was a nice town, and the people in it were good to Freed, but nobody got that sentimental over a collection of buildings. People did, unfortunately, get sentimental about other people.

And annoyingly, Laxus was a good person. He was snarky, and had a bite to him, and he could challenge Freed without blinking. But he was also kind, and helpful, and when he was teaching Freed how to wire a socket or plumb in a toilet, he was patient and made sure to keep the mood light; particularly when Freed was on the edge of smashing the porcelain bastard with the wrench. He was a good man, and seemed to know how to handle Freed in whatever situation he was in.

Also, he was beautiful. Freed had withheld that admission for a while, but since they would likely part ways soon he wanted to be honest. Broad shoulders, a thin waist, striking blonde hair and bright eyes. Evergreen had been right; he was an Adonis.

It didn't help he had a rustic charm that attracted Freed more than it should.

Perhaps it was for the best that they wouldn't see much of each other. Freed wasn't the romantic type, he had more important things to do. And his attraction was born out of proximity. Laxus was an attractive man, but he was just a man. In one years' time, Freed would have forgotten about him, and his life would be normal again.

And hopefully those occasional dreams would pass too. Be them the disgustingly sweet, or the more… intense ones.

"Hey," A voice snapped Freed out of his thoughts. "I think it's clean."

Freed frowned, then looked down to the table he was cleaning. One particular part of the table in particular was shining more than others. Freed's hackles rose slightly at the teasing tone in Laxus' words, but he scolded himself in his head. Laxus hadn't known what he was thinking about, all he'd seen was Freed washing a table for far too long.

"Out of interest," Freed said, cautiously. "How long have you been here?"

"Fifteen minutes," Laxus grinned, raising the two pots of Chinese food. "Food might be cold."

"Fifteen minutes!" Freed exclaimed, almost horrified.

"It was like half a minute, moron," Laxus smirked, walking to the table, and placing their take-out on the table. "What were you thinkin' about that hard?"

"A case," Freed lied. He didn't have an active case at the moment, but he was probably going to be helping with one soon. When he went back to the city. Permanently. "It's nothing too troubling, really. It's actually quite an easy case really, but our client is high profile, and they might use our services again should they need it. So we need to be litigious and cordial."

"Can't imagine you enjoy being cordial," Laxus smirked. "Probably out of practice."

"And for that, I don't think I'll pay for my half of this," Freed said, reaching over and taking the pot of food from Laxus' hand.

"Kinda proving my point there, ain't ya?"

Freed smiled a little as he brought the chopsticks to his lips. They were having a meal together as a sort of goodbye evening – not helping with Freed's refusal to be melancholy about the situation. Because not only did it force him to confront the fact he's leaving, he has to do so with the man who's making it a lot harder to do so. Worse still, Laxus had looked so damn charming with a tediously honest smile when he'd suggested they eat together. It had sent a little jolt through Freed.

Bastard. Maybe he was doing it on purpose.

"I saw Cana while I was waiting for the food," Laxus spoke again, garnering Freed's attention again. "She mentioned that her dad's looking forward to seeing what we've done with the place, apparently he's been excited about it."

"Is he interested in buying it?" Freed asked, frowning.

"He's your estate agent, Freed," Laxus said in a deadpan voice, though he was clearly fighting a smile. "You should know that. It worries me that you don't know that."

"Gildarts is Cana's father?" Freed frowned further. "They have different surnames?"

"Fuck, sometimes I forget you ain't from here," Laxus laughed loudly, leaning back in his chair and grinning. "There's a hell of a lot you don't know, isn't there? Well, guess the best place to start is with Gildarts, ain't it. Or I guess a more accurate name is Gildarts, Man-Whore Extraordinaire."

And thus, Laxus began to tell the rumours and stories about what Gildarts was like when he was younger – he really did seem to earn the title Laxus had given him – before trailing off to the other stories about Magnolia. He spoke about his hometown with a level of enthusiasm that Freed enjoyed watching, and found himself getting enveloped in the worlds that Laxus was describing. Though he might not be quite as eloquent as Freed was, he certainly made up for it with boisterous laughter and an odd amount of glee at exposing his friends embarrassing stories.

It was almost enough to distract Freed from what Laxus had said. 'I forget you ain't from here.' It was a little sentence, probably a throwaway thought to Laxus, but it made Freed feel oddly comforted. As if he had been accepted into this little community.

A ridiculous idea, really.

He blinked to stop that train of thought, and focused on the story about Elfman. Apparently he had been dragged into some comic book convention by his sisters and had been forced to dress as a monster from a book series. He apparently hated every moment of it, and Laxus had spent the years following showing the pictures of him in the costume at every opportunity he could. To prove his point, Laxus had pulled out his phone and showed Freed.

It was a better costume that Freed expected. But it revealed far too much for the shy, younger version of Elfman that Laxus had described.

Freed did find himself distracted by Laxus, thankfully. But it wasn't quite enough, because as he listened, he absently lowered his left hand under the table and started to swirl his finger against the palm of his hand. Perhaps he wouldn't have noticed the return of his nervous tick, had it not been for the raised scar that he grazed lightly.

It was new, and when he touched it and thought back to its origin, any lie about not being melancholic was shattered.

~~~

"Shit. Fuck. Fuck."

Freed hissed, pain splitting from his left hand up into his arm. He stepped back slightly, eyes flickering to the large gash that he'd just given himself, along with the thick blood that was fighting to get from it. It was a nasty looking cut, and Freed found himself unable to look away from it.

Laxus, who had been crouching down and pushing new floorboards into place, glanced towards Freed with a slight grin. The expression fell when he saw blood drip onto the floor, and he stood up quickly and walked to Freed's side. He took Freed's injured hand in his own, and let out a small hiss of sympathy as he saw the cut. Ridiculously, Freed couldn't help but note that Laxus was holding his hand for the first time.

"That's pretty nasty," Laxus commented.

"Is it," Freed muttered. "I thought it was a papercut."

"Good, if you can be a dick then it ain't that bad," Laxus smiled. "Come on, we need to wash it."

Not removing his hand from Freed's wrist, he dragged the lawyer from the cottage's sitting room and into the kitchen. Freed didn't fight it, instead focusing on catching the droplets of blood rather than letting them land on the carpet and stain it. It was a good enough distraction from both the stinging pain that was running through him, and the presence of Laxus being so close.

It wasn't a distraction from the embarrassment of the situation. Because after being successful at almost every task Laxus had given him, he cut himself sawing off the edge of a floorboard. Out of all the tools he's used, he was bested by a sawblade.

"This ain't gonna hurt a bit," Laxus promised as he opened the faucet and dragged Freed's hand under the stream of water.

Laxus Dreyar was a lying bag of shit.

"Mother fucking crap-whore!" Freed practically yelled. There was a moment of silence, Freed almost panting with pain, and Laxus biting his lip. A second later, a loud, unabashed, raucous laughter filled the room. Laxus actually doubled over he was laughing so much, resting his hands on his thighs while Freed glared at him from the sink. "I'm glad you're enjoying this so much."

"I'm sorry," Laxus grinned, something almost akin to a giggle slipping out. "I really am."

"No you're not."

"I'm not," Laxus agreed. "It was fucking funny, man. I ain't ever seen ya acting like that. Just caught me off guard," He glanced up, met Freed's glare, and burst into laughter again. "I'll get a bandage. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Freed muttered. "And try not to fall, impale yourself on a spike and die. That would be awful."

"Don't worry. Only an idiot could get hurt in this place," Laxus laughed again, and if Freed had something in reach, he would have thrown it at the bastard's head.

When Laxus returned to the kitchen, he was holding the first aid kit that he had insisted they keep in the house; no doubt when the humour of Freed's injury and subsequent cussing died down, Laxus would gloat about how right he was with demanding the first aid kit. He carefully guided Freed's hand out from under the stream of water, and patted it dry softly with a towel. Freed winced a little at the pressure on his cut, but didn't say anything.

Slowly, with careful and practiced movements, Laxus wrapped the bandage around his hand. He managed to avoid trapping any of his fingers. Though the white fabric did get stained slightly, it seemed to trap the blood from pouring out too badly. The pain was subsiding slightly now, too.

It allowed him to appreciate how gentle Laxus was being. He wasn't used to thinking of Laxus being gentle.

"How do you know how to do this?" Freed asked, sitting at the kitchen table.

"I used to have to do it all the time," Laxus sighed a little as he spoke, removing his hands from the bandage and inspecting his handywork. He looked up to Freed, who was frowning at him slightly. "I had a lot going on when I was a teenager, got into a lot of fights. Well, that's how I saw it. Turns out I was kind of a bully."

Freed frowned deeper. "You were?"

"Yeah. Didn't think I was, at the time, but I went to therapy for a while and she called me out on it," Laxus shrugged. "But yeah, a couple times a month I'd fight some kid. Had a superiority complex or some shit, wanted everyone to worship me and do what I want. Cringey teenager shit and a lot of aggression, bad mix. Eventually, when the guys started to fight back, I needed to learn some basic first aid."

When Laxus looked up, Freed had an expression of curiosity on his face. It clearly wasn't what Laxus had expected.

"Was it the therapy that made you stop, then?" Freed asked, and Laxus seemed blind sighted for a moment.

"Er, no. Not exactly," Laxus shook his head. "There were two kids that pissed me off more than most, don't know why. So when things were getting bad, I kinda… targeted them more than anyone else. Natsu and Gajeel, you might have met them at some point. Fireman and mechanic. But they got pissed at me for taking things too far, jumped me, beat the shit out of me, then went to the principal and told him all the shit I've done. Got suspended, thought about myself, and started meetin' with Porlyusica; she's my therapist. She basically listed all the shit I've done and made me be better."

Freed took a moment to think through what he'd just heard. It was the best thing to do, he'd found out. Sometimes people let out their biggest, darkest secrets to him – the curse of being a lawyer – and your first thoughts on the matter were often unhelpful. So he took some time, and eventually asked the question that seemed most prudent.

"Your principal suspended you without evidence?" Freed asked.

"Oh he had plenty of evidence," Laxus laughed. "Hard to get shit past the guy when he's your grandfather."

"Makarov?" Freed frowned.

"Yeah, used to be in charge of the school. Only retired because the school board forced him to," Laxus grinned. "He started working at the hotel because he found retirement boring," Laxus smiled for a moment at the memory of his grandfather's sudden proclamation he was buying the hotel, before looking back to Freed, smile drooping slightly. "I just admitted to beating up kids and being a bully, why doesn't that bother you?"

"Some of my clients intentionally lower their workers' wages to increase their own paycheque, and then laugh about it," Freed shrugged. But Laxus nudged him, sensing there was more. "Nobody was there best in high school, I certainly wasn't."

"You were a bully too huh?" Laxus laughed, joking.

"Well, not exactly, but I wasn't the most kind," Freed leant back in his chair. "I was the smartest person there and wanted people to know it. I would start discussions on test results just so I could make sure everyone knew I'd gotten one hundred percent. And there was one boy, he wasn't the smartest, who sat beside me in most classes. Alphabetised seating plans and all. I could be rather… patronising to him. I think I had a crush on him, in retrospect. It was probably a twisted way of trying to deal with it."

"You don't seem like that now," Laxus commented. "Other than when you're joking, but I know that ain't serious. What changed?"

"Evergreen and Bickslow essentially told me that if I didn't get over myself, they'd stop being my friends," Freed smiled. "Other than them, I only had my parents. I couldn't lose them."

They sat in silence, Freed thinking back to the person he was in high school, Laxus perhaps doing the same thing. It was an odd feeling, sitting with someone who somewhat understood what it was like being ashamed of the person you used to be, but knowing you've grown past them. Most people, if they did feel like that, didn't talk about it. It was nice to know that, in Laxus, he had someone he could relate to.

It was also nice to know that he had just come out to Laxus and the blonde hadn't so much as blinked.

"I would have kicked your ass if we went to school together," Laxus declared, smirking.

"You would have tried," Freed corrected, allowing the mood to be lifted. "But, as a child I was also an award-winning fencer. I would have stabbed you before you could hurt me."

"Hard to stab someone when you've been knocked out," Laxus grinned cockily, making a fist. This had the unfortunate side effect of making his bicep flex, and therefore Freed had to avert his gaze.

They chuckled together, enjoying their joke that wasn't particularly funny. It was relaxing to be around with Laxus, and Freed felt as though he could be honest with him in a way that he couldn't be with others. Perhaps that was because he was the first person Freed had gotten to know deeply since his time in school. But that didn't matter, really. Because the important thing was that he enjoyed Laxus.

"Come on," Laxus spoke again. "I don't trust my bandage work. Let's go to the doctors, make sure you ain't gonna get infected or some shit."

And stupidly, Freed's heart fluttered at that.

~~~

"You really are distracted, ain't ya?"

Freed looked up from his hand, which he had placed on the table and was fiddling with, and towards Laxus. The blonde had an expression unknown to Freed, something between being amused and contemplative. Freed frowned.

"I suppose I am," Freed agreed. "I'm sorry. You wanted to do this and I'm being terrible company. What were you saying?"

"It ain't important," Laxus gave a half shrug. "You wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

"As I said, I've got an upcoming case that could be very good for my company," Freed quickly lied, because the truth was now completely untellable. "It's getting to me a little, but it's not as bad as you might think. I just need to rationalise everything."

"Right. So when I texted Evergreen a second ago and she said you don't have anything planned at work, she was lying?" Laxus crossed his arms, and Freed's eyes narrowed.

"You and Evergreen talk?"

"You can bullshit me all you want, but I'm gonna be able to see through it," Laxus said, ignoring Freed's question. "And you don't have to tell me what's actually bothering you, because if it ain't my business then it ain't my business."

Freed wanted to snipe at him. Ask him why, if he believed his words, was he still talking?

"I'm just gonna say this," Laxus continued. "Nothing has to be done if you don't want it to be."

And, in a way, there was the reality that Freed had been hiding from. Because, as much as he didn't want to leave Magnolia behind, he also didn't want to let himself think he could stay. The hard line he had always drawn with the house was that, once it was functional and sellable, he would sell it and get back to his normal life. Not only was it a goal for him to achieve, but it had also turned into a rule he had to follow.

Because his fondness for both the town and Laxus had been gradual, and it hadn't gone unnoticed by Freed. He told himself he had to leave the place behind at some point, and doing that once the house was sold was a way of holding himself accountable. Once the building work had been completed, there was nothing else for him to do in Magnolia.

But that was a lie.

And the only person keeping him true to the rule was himself.

"I always said that I would sell it once everything was fixed," Freed stated, voice flickering into the lawyer tone he denied having.

"Then say something else," Laxus retorted, as if Freed could do that. "Look, I don't know what your life is like when you're in the city. But I know you seem to like being here. So why don't you just keep coming?"

"I-" Freed paused. He needed to think. "My real life is in the city. I can't-"

"Who says that your real life is just in the city? You've been coming here every weekend for months now, it's as much a part of your life as anything," Laxus stated, and his smile made Freed's resolve crumble slightly.

"I told myself that once the house-"

"This isn't about the house" Laxus insisted. "This is about you, fucking idiot. I think being here makes you happy. And if something makes you happy, why stop because of some bullshit rule you set yourself? That ain't smart."

Freed thought, for a moment.

It was almost nauseating to hear Laxus speaking like this, and Freed couldn't explain why. Well, perhaps he could, but the explanation wasn't something he was willing to entertain. Because the only real reason Laxus would be so insistent on Freed returning to Magnolia as he had been doing was because he wanted to keep seeing Freed. He wanted Freed to stop coming as much as Freed wanted to.

But Freed couldn't allow himself to accept that. Because if he did, he'd start wondering why. And then maybe he'd trick himself into thinking that his silly crush was reciprocated. He couldn't.

"There is… more work I could do," Freed spoke without thinking.

"I guess there is," Laxus nodded. "So you're sticking around? For the house"

"For the house."

It wasn't for the house. They both knew it.

[larryfanficwriter98]

Chapter Thirteen

*Fake It Until You Make It Real*

This can be very emotional and even triggering to some people however there is nothing bad that happens except a child having an emotional reaction to a shitty situation. 

Sunday morning Harry woke up early but had taken one look at Louis curled up against his chest and had promptly pushed any thoughts of leaving the bed out of his head. As if sensing Harry's change of plans Louis curled up closer to him in his sleep. Harry kept am arm around Louis' waist as he grabbed his phone and lowered the brightness down so it didn't wake Louis up. He had a message from Gem and when he opened it he saw screenshots of his and Louis' social media profiles and a message under them.

Now that we've met him and definitely approve I think it's time to make it official don't you little bro? Go on and slap it on social media, make sure to post pictures with his butt visible. 😉👌

Harry shook his head but knew his sister was right. It was time to make it social media official and so he headed to Facebook and updated his relationship status to engaged and sent a relationship request to Louis. He then went to Instagram and updated his bio so it said he was engaged to Louis. After that was done he locked his phone and grabbed the remote turn the TV on keeping it at a low volume as Louis slept.

"Well this is nice. You should definitely stay in bed more often." Louis said thirty minutes later as he looked at Harry.

"I'm thinking about it. Though I might need some persuasion." Louis leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to Harry's lips before he laid back down and cuddling closer to him. Harry honestly just enjoyed the cuddling, it had been a long time since he has cuddled someone. He knew there was a good portion of people awake downstairs, could hear their voices, but he had no desire to get out of his warm bed.

"We should get down there. We're being bad hosts." Louis said

"I know." Harry groaned before he was trying to motivate himself out of bed. It didn't work right away but eventually he was rolling out of bed and getting himself ready for the day. Louis doing the same a few minutes later. Louis stole one of Harry's sweaters and Harry grinned as he watched the way the extra fabric moved around as he brushed his teeth while Harry waited for him to finish. He also not so subtly watched him bend over the sink to spit out the tooth paste. Once he was done they headed downstairs together to see everyone was awake.

"Good morning. Jay and I made breakfast for everyone. Should be still warm." Anne greeted them

"You didn't have to do that. I was awake you just had to come and get me." Harry said

"Yeah but Louis looked comfortable when I saw you two so I didn't want to wake him."

"Harry gets out of bed every morning without waking me. I'm sure he would have managed." Louis said sending a glare towards Harry as he headed into the kitchen.

"He doesn't like it when I leave the bed. Says I take all the heat with me and it forces him out of bed." Harry told them as he sat in the oversized chaise while Louis headed into the kitchen.

"So we never did get to talk about the wedding. Have you picked a location? The flowers? The time? The honeymoon? Y'know Brazil is beautiful I know you loved it last time we visited as a family. Remember you wanted to stay at the pink place."

"I'm pretty sure Harry wanted to live there when he was twenty." Gemma said

"Louis and I have decided to take the kids on a holiday with us, a family vacation. As soon as the judge approves it which my lawyers says there isn't any reason why he wouldn't, I'll get it ran by the school. I think we've decided on Orlando there's Disney, Universal, SeaWorld, and other big things to do with kids and such. Then during spring break or the summer holidays we'll take a week away together somewhere else."

"I haven't agreed to that yet." Louis said from the kitchen

"I'll hogtie you." Harry told him, "Don't worry I'll have him in a hut on a beach without kids eventually. Or in a hotel right beside the Iguazu Falls in Brazil or Argentina."

"Or a summer trip with the kids." Louis said

"Or a private trip with a promise of loud uninterrupted-"

"Harold." Louis warned making their families laugh when Harry put his hands up in surrender.

"I was going to say playtime."

"That's even worse."

"How about the hokey pokey in our birthday suit?" Louis laughed loudly

"If you have to pokey the hokey then you're clearly doing it wrong Harry." Anne said

"Maybe we like to pokey the hokey mother." Harry said throwing a balled up piece of paper at her as Louis walked into the room shaking his head. He sat across Harry's lap so his back was pressed against the arm of the chaise. His plate of food piled high sat on his lap and his mug of tea was set on the coffee table.

"For the record if you ever poke me we're getting a divorce." Louis told him

"You ruin all of my fun. You won't have sex with me with our mothers here and you won't let me play hokey pokey with you naked. Next you'll be telling me I can't wear a lace teddy around the house with the kids home."

"Absolutely not." Louis said shaking his head as he cut into the pancake, "at least not while the kids are home." Harry laughed

"You're restricting my teddy wearing time. Geesh. I think I purposed too soon." Louis stabbed a piece of pancake and offered it to Harry watching as he leaned forwards and ate the piece off the fork.

***

After breakfast Louis was in the kitchen with Anne and Jay as they cleaned up from yesterday and breakfast. A loud banging came from the door causing them to jump from the suddenness.

"Are you guys expecting company?" Anne asked

"Not that I know of." Louis said as he dried his hands and headed to the front door. Louis unlocked the bolt and pulled the door open. He pulled his eyebrows together confused when he saw a police officer, Hannah, and her boyfriend standing there.

"Are you Mr. Styles?"

"No, but I am his fiancé why?"

"Can we come in?" Louis hesitated looking back for Harry but he still wasn't inside so he nodded and allowed them into the entry way closing the door behind them, "Does your fiancé still have his daughter here?"

"Yes of course. He has her for the week per her mother's....request."

"That's a lie I told him he could have her for Halloween, but he had to bring her back home Halloween night. I gave him last night out of kindness, but now I still don't have my daughter and I'm starting to worry about her. I have texts between him and I saying he wouldn't give her back. It's why I called the police." Hannah said tearfully, Louis laughed unable to help himself.

"First off Harry has it on video of you telling him to keep her for the week or not at all. Secondly Harry hasn't had his phone on him all morning. I do because he asked me to go get for him from the bedroom but then he went outside with the kids so he never got it from me. Thirdly any text Harry has gotten I haven't responded to or looked at because it's none of my business. Fourth call the number you were texting because I guarantee it won't ring Harry's phone."

"Hey what's going on?" Harry asked jogging up to them, "I thought you were going to America this week?" He said looking at Hannah.

"Mr. Styles, Miss. Carpenter claims you were suppose to take your daughter back home last night and that you are threatening her through texts of keeping your daughter from her."

"I don't even have my phone on me and Hannah and I don't text. Everything is on the phone or in person. Our lawyers demanded it since anyone could be Hannah in my phone and anyone could be me in hers. Any communications we have is to be recorded and sent to our respective lawyers. This isn't the first time Hannah has tried to charge me with parental kidnapping."

"I'm going to have to make sure that's the truth. Hand over your phone."

"Wait you're not even going to call the number she was texting. Make sure it was his phone in the first place." Louis asked the officer paused and looked at Louis before he turned to Hannah who looked offended by just the idea of it.

"Excuse me. We are here for my daughter."

"I have to investigate both sides of the story. Find out who is lying. Give me your phone please."

"No we are here to get my daughter from Harry and take her home not for you to turn around and accuse me just because my ex boyfriend's fuck toy spoke. Besides he shouldn't even be involved in this conversation."

"Louis is my fiancé and has every right to be here. So unless Daniel is leaving, Louis stays. Look I can show you the video where Hannah told me I have her for the week." Harry said but the officer shook his head

"It won't matter. She has custody and you have no legal visitation or right to have her in your house if the mother doesn't want her here. Unfortunately that means she can press charges for parental kidnapping if you don't let her take her daughter." The officer said looking like he didn't want to be the one telling Harry those words, "I'm really sorry but I'm going to have to ask you to go get your daughter and let her mother take her home."

"Okay." Harry said softly

"Okay?" Louis said shocked

"Louis please. If I fight or argue it can look bad on me. The judge won't look at the body cam footage and see a father wanting to see his daughter for more than a day, he's going to see a big man yelling at, not only a woman, but the mother of his child. That is all he is going to see. That is all they ever see because she has sob stories prepared to make me look bad. I have lost a lot of cases because I fought too hard, because I raised my voice, because she cried in my presence. I can't do anything except comply I can't have a parental kidnapping charge while fighting for visitation." Harry said gently, "can you please just go get Maddie for me?" Louis wanted to argue, wanted to yell and curse at Hannah because how dare she stand there smirking while she took Harry's daughter away just because. How dare she call herself a mother. But Louis nodded pressing a quick kiss to Harry's cheek and headed to the glass sliding doors watching Maddie and Freddie running and laughing on the playset.

"Maddison can you come here for a minute?" Louis asked just loud enough to be heard over the laughter filling the backyard. Maddison and Freddie looked his way before they ran up to him with large smiles and red faces, "come on Maddison, Freddie stay out here with Zayn alright?" Louis said as he felt Zayn squeeze past him with a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder.

"Come on Freddie bet you can't run faster than me." Louis owed Zayn a nice dinner as he watched Freddie run off yelling after him. He gently led Maddison inside the house and closed the glass door and led her to where Harry was with Hannah, Daniel, and the officer.

"I will have these screenshots and body camera sent to your respective lawyers so they each have a copy for the court meeting." The officer was saying

"Thank you." Harry said shaking his hand before he turned to them, "hey princess you have to go with your mom."

"What? Why?" Maddie asked looking between Harry and Hannah, "you promised. You promised I'd stay with Daddy all week." Maddie said looking at Hannah

"Yes well I've changed my mind now come on we need to go. We still have to pick up the cookies from the shop for career day tomorrow. Remember."

"You're not going to career day tomorrow?" Louis asked looking at Harry who clearly knew nothing about it.

"Mom says daddy has to work." Maddie told Louis

"I'm off tomorrow. What's career day?"

"It doesn't matter Daniel is going. He is with her everyday after all. Much more her dad than you are. Come on Maddie we are leaving." Hannah said grabbing Maddie's wrist only for Maddie to yank it out of her grip.

"YOU LIED! YOU SAID YOU CALLED DADDY AND HE SAID HE COULDN'T COME! IM NOT LEAVING! IT'S NOT FAIR!" Maddie yelled

"You are leaving right now come on." Hannah snapped grabbing Maddie's arm again.

"NO! NO NO NO NO NO! NO!" Maddie screamed fighting out of her mother's grip, "DADDY! DADDY PLEASE! SHE SAID A WEEK! SHE PROMISED!"

Louis had tears in his eyes as he watched this beautiful little girl fall apart in a way only a child in a such a bad situation could. She was crying, screaming, kicking, flailing, doing everything she could to fight off Hannah. Louis looked at Harry and could see the pain in his face as he tried to make her let go of him when she hugged his waist begging him to keep her.

"Maddison that is enough. Stand up and let's go." Hannah said

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" Maddie screamed as she was dragged out of the house, "DADDY! DADDY PLEASE! SHE PROMISED A WEEK! SHE PROMISED! DADDY! LET ME GO! LOULOU! LOUIS! LOUIS DON'T LET HER TAKE ME! LOUIS PLEASE!" Louis took a step forward fully prepared to go to jail to stop Maddie's pain but a strong arm wrapped around his waist and kept him there.

"Harry let me go. Harry let go of me." Louis hissed pushing his arm off of him and running outside, he pulled Maddie into tight loving hug before Hannah could put her in the car, "It'll be okay. Hush darling it'll be okay. Relax. Deep breaths. There you go. Easy breathing...there you go." Louis whispered gently as he rubbed her shaking back.

"She promised. She promised a week."

"I know but it's not your daddy's fault, sweetie. Now tell me what you want your daddy to bake for your class."

"C-C-C-Cookie dough cup-cupcakes." Maddie said between sniffles, hiccups, and heavy breaths from her crying and screams.

"Okay. I'll tell him. He loves you and so do I. It'll be okay." Louis stood up and kissed her head then without even turning towards Hannah he headed back inside the house.

Harry was sitting on the floor crying just as hard as Maddie had been a few moments ago. Louis slid into his lap and hugged his neck feeling his arms wrap around his waist and his sobs wet the sweater Louis was wearing.

"Don't you ever hold me back when my child yells for me like that again." Louis said as gently and a softly as he could so Harry knew he wasn't mad at him. Harry didn't respond, not that Louis expected him to, he just sat there holding Louis as he cried and Louis sat there holding Harry rubbing his back and trying to do whatever he could to soothe him. They sat there well over an hour before Harry stood up and headed upstairs with a soft click  of a door closing. Only then did Louis let his own tears fall as he sat between Anne and his mom.

****

Harry only came down briefly to say goodbye to their families and he tried to apologize to Louis' family, but his mother out a stop to that immediately. When they had left Harry had kissed Louis' cheek then headed back upstairs. Louis understood that Harry wasn't in the right space to be out so he didn't mind doing the last few things that needed done before Freddie came back. Zayn had texted saying he was feeding Freddie then would bring him back and from there they would decide if he should take him overnight. So yes Louis definitely owed Zayn for today. Louis had just sat down when the front door opened and Zayn and Freddie came in.

"I'm sorry." Louis said looking at Zayn

"Don't worry about it. I can't even imagine what you two are feeling."

"She yelled for me. Cried and screamed for me. I felt useless. Harry hasn't left the bedroom except to say goodbye and he tried to apologize to my mom. I can't imagine it. I can't- my heart hurts." Louis said stubbornly wiping his eyes before Freddie saw

"Do you want me to take him for the night and take him to nursery? I don't mind and it wouldn't be the first time I kept him an extra night."

"Do you mind? It's just Harry will want to make Maddie's cupcakes and-"

"Say no more. Go take little man to say goodnight to Harry and I'll pack him a bag." Louis nodded calling for Freddie and heading upstairs with him as he told him he would be staying with Zayn.

"We're going to tell Harry goodnight okay?"

"Okay." Freddie said cheerfully opening the door and running to the bed climbing up on it , "hi Harry Papa is letting me stay with Zayn on a school night so I came to say goodnight to you before I leave."

"He is? That sounds like so much fun. I bet Zayn will let you stay up an extra hour if you ask him." Harry said

"I bet so too. I'll miss you though but I guess I'll just see you tomorrow because we live here now so I won't miss you too much." Harry chuckled

"I hope you have a lovely time tonight Freddie and you give this to Zayn. Put it in his hand and yell no takebacks and run away got it?" Harry said as he grabbed a bundle of 50s and handed it to Freddie.

"Okay."

"Tell him to buy art supplies or pizza or beer or a night buddy. It's his to do with what he wants. No take backs alright?"

"You got it Harry. Goodnight."

"Goodnight squirt." Louis chuckled as he followed Freddie downstairs where he did as Harry told put the cash bundle in his hand and yelled no takebacks then ran outside to the car. Louis could hear Harry laughing from upstairs as Zayn glared at them.

"Louis I can't-"

"You can and you will. Look I promise you that is the lowest bundle in the house so if you don't take that one he'll just give you one that's bigger. Seriously just go on and get out of here and have fun and spend it on yourself mister." Louis said pushing Zayn out of the house and locking the door behind him laughing as he watched Zayn glare at him through the window. He waited until they had left before he headed upstairs and saw Harry was sitting up in the bed now rubbing at his face with his sweater.

"I'm sorry. I just...I couldn't socialize anymore."

"Hey it's okay. Trust me my family didn't even care you were up here after that. The only reason they stayed so long because we all cleaned up so you didn't have to."

"I know and I feel bad. They were guests they shouldn't-"

"My mom was feeling useless not cleaning something, she was ready to beat you if you didn't let her help. She didn't mind. No one did. It's okay they still think you're amazing."

"Okay...alright...tell me what I gotta do." Harry said rubbing his face again.

"She said she wanted cookie dough cupcakes."

"Figures. I made them a few months ago for her birthday, I saw her a few weeks after her birthday and I baked her a cupcake of her choice. I need to run to the store real quick but I have mostly everything here."

"Okay. What do you need me to do."

"Relax. I need you to relax. Lay in bed, go to sleep, lay on the couch, whatever it is, just relax. You've done enough today."

"I want to help."

"And you will when I need you to so for now take a nap because this might take a few hours."

"Alright. I'll nap on the couch."

"Good." Harry kissed his forehead as he stood up and they headed downstairs together. Louis made up his spot on the couch and laid down while Harry got the recipe and checked his ingredients. He gave Louis a kiss before he headed out of the house and to the store. Louis fell asleep shortly after that as Titanic played on the TV.

****

Making the cupcakes didn't take as long as Louis had feared, but he was definitely regretting it Monday morning as he sat in the passenger seat of the Murano while Harry drove to the school. Louis had explained to Harry that career day was an all day event, hence the snacks, a few students were assigned a good a beverage like Maddie and a few others were assigned desserts. A few others were assigned drinks and lunch and stuff like that. There were thirteen students each year one class so the forty cupcakes were more than enough for Maddie's class and they would have extra to bring home which Louis was excited about. When they got to the school building Louis walked with Harry to Maddie's classroom. Maddie was sitting at a round table with her chin held in her hand as she kicked her feet.

"There she is." Louis said quietly pointing at her watching as Harry grinned when he spotted her as well. Louis said a quick hi to Maddison before he headed to his class as Harry sat in a too small chair at a too small table with Maddie. Turns out career day was much more than just talking about your job, at least for this classroom, there were coloring sheets and recommended questions to ask. It was very thought out and Harry had never been more happy to be so uncomfortable especially when the teacher had given Maddie a stack of papers about doctors to pass out to the students and parents.

[swiss-cheeze]

We All Sin Agent Hotchner || Aaron Hotchner

Request: YES/NO

Gender: none, they/them

Warnings: oh jesus, murders (duh), talk of sins, mentions of abortion, talk of sexual and physical abuse, child molestation, mention of a drug addiction.

Description: you’ve killed 12 by murder and another 13 by proxy, as you get interviewed by Hotch and Reid they finally find out why you killed up to 12 and another 13 but when you start mentioning the teams owns sins you get rather bored.

Disclaimer: OKAY BASICALLY, background before you read? Your parents went through a divorce when you were 12 and then your mother sexally and physically abused you at age 13; this is why you killed 12 people, however the other 13 you killed by proxy because they were all sinners. You got someone else to kill them for you (mentioned in the fic), the background to this is because your mother was catholic, so you grew up catholic; you couldn't kill those 13 other sinners because it's a sin but the 12 you could because it was the year for the divorce but the 13 you couldn't because that was from the sexual and physical abuse.

Disclaimer: I AM NOT RELIGIOUS, this is all based off of research from my own questions over the years as well as the quick engine search for this fic. The ‘sins’ the team has commited are ones I’ve found on their profiles on the Criminal Minds Wiki and twisted it a little to the use of the plot; GIDEON AND ELLE ARE MENTIONED IN THIS FIC AS MERE MENTIONS, THEY ARE NOT IN THE TEAM (this team consists of the OG; Prentiss, Hotch, Reid, Morgan, Garcia, Rossi and J.J.)

-------

“Jesus Christ what should we do?” Emily questioned as the team stood around the round table. They caught the unsub of course, however they needed a confession, and you were not budging.

“Thirteen murders and twelve by proxy,” J.J. muttered and looked to the victim board, “that's a lot before we got brought in, is there any significance that we can use against them?” the team looked to Spencer who simply shrugged.

“The number 13 is considered an unlucky number in some countries,” Spencer started, “the end of the Mayan calendar's 13th Baktun was superstitiously feared as a harbinger of the apocalyptic 2012 phenomenon. Fear of the number 13 has a specifically recognized phobia called triskaidekaphobia which was coined in 1911” Spencer ended his little ramble but it still did little for the team, you hadn't done anything towards those facts or any others that Spencer could recall, same with your twelve additional murders.

“Well we have to find a reason otherwise (Y/n) could have bail and hit again in a few years,” Aaron said as he leant against the chairs, “there has to be something”

“When (Y/n) was twelve their parents split?” Garcia questioned, “and then thirteen was when they oh no-”

“What, what you got baby girl?” Derek questioned as he moved to lean over Garcia's computer.

“Umm, okay these are direct quotes from a medical? Thing?” Garcia questioned again.

“That sounded like a question Garcia, what is it?” J.J. said fiercely.

“Okay okay umm,” Garcia did a little more typing, “at age thirteen (Y/n) was brought into their nearby medical centre from their house, because they lived with their mum, and they always came in with multiple bruises ‘in the shape of hands, occasionally cuts and multiple sexual assaults’ oh poor baby,” Garcia mumbled her last few words, “sexual assault from their mum at age thirteen? That would suck”

“If that's all we have to work with then that's what we’ll use,” Hotch said as he gathered a few files randomly, “Reid i want you to go into the room with (Y/n), set up a conversation regarding their childhood, specifically ages twelve and thirteen; (Y/n) is used to alpha males and females, they won't be expecting someone like you,” Emily snorted softly as Hotch handed Spencer the random files.

“And what do i do with these?” Spencer questioned, they literally were all random files and were not in order, that bugged the poor Doctor a little but he knew better than to fix it.

“Look through them alot,” Hotch responded, “pretend to fall back on things you already know from the profile and the murders, try and look through multiple files at once; (Y/n) is a curious killer but knows what they’ve done and the reason, they like to play with their food and in this case food is-”

“People got it,” Spencer said quickly before ducking out of the door, down the catwalk and towards the room you were being held.

“Hotch,” Derek said suddenly, “you do know this is about you right?” the man said, everyone looked up confused as their unit chief nodded.

“That’s why i sent in Reid, when (Y/n) gets fed up and calls for me i'll go in and i'll get the final details we need” and with that Hotch walked out of the door and in the same direction as Spencer as Derek showed the rest of the team how it was about Hotch.

-------

“(Y/n), you were sexually assaulted multiple times at the age of thirteen, tell me more about that?” Spencer questioned, you didn't budge in your seat nor did you show any signs of knowing what he was talking about besides the slight flinch he noticed when he mentioned the age.

“Why,” you said softly, your voice came out gravelly, “what is it you want to know?”

“Well, it was from your…” Spencer flipped through multiple files, making sure to keep them out of your line of sight before landing on a random one, “mother” you scoffed.

“Bitch, slag, whore, slut,” was all you said in response.

“How?” Spencer questioned.

“SHE MOLESTED ME,” you blew up, slamming the table, “BEAT ME AND MOLESTED ME, SENT ME TO SCHOOL IN THE MORNING, THE ONLY SAFE PLACE I KNEW BEFORE I HAD TO GO HOME AT THE SAME TIME EVERY DAY TO HER HANDS, HER EYES, HER MOUTH AND SOMETIMES HER FUCKING FRIENDS,” you struggled to breath as your body vibrated from the added adrenalyne.

“(Y/n), i need you to calm down,” Spencer said, he didn't even flinch at your explosion but he knew the signs of an early panic attack, “what's special about you is that you have so much anxiety, self doubt and self loathing and yet you still lured in twenty five people to kill,” Spencer mentioned.

“Twelve,” you said in a low voice, “I only killed twelve i had nothing to do with the others,” your eyes flickered to Spencer who started packing the files; he had gotten half the confession.

“Thank you for your time-”

“I want Hotchner,” you said with a grin, knowing exactly what that meant as Spencer paused for a moment, “even you noticed it Doctor, you saw all those victims that look like him, high class, business, lawyers, close to the justice system…” you started pointing out the similarities.

“I'll see what I can do,” Spencer said before leaving the room. The click of the lock made you giggle, then laugh, then cackle. The team watched from the two way mirror as you had a slight psychotic break in the chair you were chained to.

“GIVE ME AARON FUCKING HOTCHNER,” you screamed, “otherwise ill have to kill his little boy~” you sang with an evil grin. The team stiffened as your words floated through the room.

“They wouldn't,” J.J. said, “we didn't profile accomplices,”

“No but (Y/n) did kill by proxy,” Hotch said, “anyone could have anything trained on my little boy,” the unit chief said before he opened the interrogation room and your loud gasp came through the monitors.

“Hotchie!” you exclaimed happily, your grin was sick as your posture changed and you sat upright.

“Don't call me that,” Hotch said calmly, “you just confessed to twelve murders, now we need you to confess to the other thirteen-”

“I didn't do it,” you said immediately, “I simply helped victims with their own troubles,” you said with another sick grin as you leant forward, “you've got your own troubles too don't you Hotchie?” you questioned.

“I told you not to call me that,” Hotch responded as he stared you dead in the eye.

“A dead wife,” you grinned, “murdered wife I should say, son who almost, kind of, slightly doesn't trust you. Why?” you looked to Hotch with a grin, “you’re never there for him the poor thing” you said with a fake pout, “i should know what that's like, divorced at age twelve, molested at age thirteen, wow what a rocky fucking year those two where huh?” you questioned with a grin as the room door opened and out stepped a delicious looking man who handed Hotch a file. You whistled low, “Sexy little things aren't you here at the BAU huh?” you questioned with a grin as he left, it wasn’t the doctor from before but that didn't matter, you had the man you wanted right in front of you as he looked over a file, “what's that?” you questioned with a jut of your chin to the files.

“Damian Field,” Hotch started, you barely remembered the name let alone the face, “shot execution style, was a pedophile on three accounts,” you grinned, so that techy finally figured it out, “Emily Guard, shot execution style, multiple accounts of stealing and piracy, Dellie Parafield, shot execution style, stealing, looting, poisoning her mother and-”

“Did you finally figure it out?” you asked, cutting off the man you loved.

“You wrote ‘sinner’, at each crime scene, that's why there's thirteen and when we didn't find you quick enough you came to us,” Hotch said, you grinned.

“Thirteen dead, not because of me, but thirteen dead,” you shrugged, “know why?”

“Your mother grew up catholic,” you grinned.

“We got every single one of those people to confess agent,” you said with a sick grin as the team watched on, “they confessed for every sin they committed and died respectively because of it,”

“You're a sinner,” Hotch said as if it were a fact, you scoffed.

“I aint,” was your response.

“You killed twelve and another thirteen by proxy,” Hotch reminded you, tears filled your eyes as you sniffled.

“That's not good,” Derek muttered as he watched through the glass.

“They deserved it,” you said softly.

“And you don't?” Hotch questioned.

“AT LEAST I SEE MY SINS!” you exclaimed loudly, causing a few of the team to jump, “if you realise your sins and apologise to the lord he will forgive, and he forgives me,” you nodded with a sniffle as tears trekked down your face, “he sees what i've done and he praises me!” you said with a laugh.

“Have you ever met god (Y/n)?” Hotch questioned, you rolled your eyes.

“What, you sayin’ i'm a liar too?” you asked with a grin, “that's a sin too Aaron,” you said with a grin.

“You're not a liar but you are a bad killer, you left everything out in the open and you led us right to you and when we hit a dead end you came to us,” Hotch reminded you again, “do you confess to twelve murders and thirteen murders by proxy?” he questioned again.

“No.” you grinned, “i ain't the one who killed ‘em!” you exclaimed again as Hotch stood up and walked out of the room. This only fueled your rage as you started thrashing your wrists in the cuffs they were being held by, “WE’RE ALL SINNERS AARON HOTCHNER” you screamed, you grinned as you felt the teams eyes all watching you from behind the mirror.

“Who's the accomplice?” Emily questioned.

“We’ll find out in a second,” Hotch said calmly.

“You think you’re safe!? From who but the lord!?” you shook your head, “Elle Greenaway,” you started, the team became rigid, “shot an...what do you guys call us? Unsub?” you laughed, “shot an unsub and you rid it off as self defense,” you held up a finger, “that's one sin agent Hotchner. Jason Gideon, stole hotel toiletries,” you grinned as another finger went up, “thats called stealing Hotchner, Derek Morgan, considered suicide after molestation,” you put up another finger, “thats three now Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, abortian at age fifteen,” another finger went up, “Hotchner im all for abortians and i dont personally find them a sin, however unfortunately thats not what catholics and christians see,” you grinned, “four. Jennifer Jareau, I unfortunately only recently found out about you even though you've been with the team for a few years. Fortunately for Hotchner it stays at four,” you waved your fingers in the air, “David Rossi,” you scoffed, “married and divorced three times,” you added three fingers and whistled, “that's added a lot to the load already Hotchner, up to seven now,” you sighed as you had to use your other hand, “Doctor Spencer Reid, wow” you laughed, “what? Drug addict, liar, that Lila woman who i'm going to add simply because i feel like it,” you waved both hands as much as you could and laughed softly, “damn, that Doctor is racking it up a lot Hotchner!” you exclaimed.

“Hotch we’re not getting anywhere with this,” Rossi said with a sigh as he looked to the saddened faces of his team mates.

“Just another second Dave, it'll work.” Hotch said, his eyes still glued to your frame, “when i was in their (Y/n) said ‘we’, there is an accomplice we just have to wait for their slip up” and that's when you did, it wasn't a slip but technically but you were bored.

“UGGGHHH,” you groaned, “Lily!” you exclaimed, “Lily Raymond, she's in our safehouse,” the team was about to walk away to find this ‘lily’ before you gave them a deal, “Aaron Hotchner i will give you the address if only you let us stay in the same cell, AND,” you grinned and bit your lip, “let me give you a big smooch,” the team sighed.

“Hotch you can't,” Emily said.

“If we want that address he’ll have to,” Rossi said softly as Hotch walked into the room and did just as you asked.

He kissed you.

[artificialqueens]

Happiness Isn't Here, Chapter 2 (Jan-centric) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Jan really wants to be friends with Crystal’s girlfriend, Nicky. Gigi struggles to comprehend her attraction towards Jan. Brita gets further invested in Jan’s love life and confesses why she was so drawn to Jan.

ao3 link

It had been three days since Crystal had texted Jan, and Jan was getting frustrated at the lack of follow-up. She and Brita had visited most, if not all of the spots Crystal frequented, but to no avail. And now Jan was out for a jog, hoping to either clear her mind or have a breakthrough with a new idea. But all she got was a leg cramp and a strong pang of hunger.

There was a convenience store towards the end of the block, so Jan decided to do a quick shop. She wanted to get home right after and take a shower, flushed red and drenched in sweat from her run, she knew she must’ve looked like a hot mess.

Jan started to walk down the snack aisle, but instantly backed out and hid. “Oh, come on,” she whined to herself before carefully peering back into the aisle. Sure enough, Crystal was there and oblivious to Jan’s presence, much to her relief in her given state. “Wait, who’s that?”

A woman walked up to Crystal and wrapped her arms around her from behind. The first thing Jan noticed was that this woman – this unfairly gorgeous woman – was dressed entirely inappropriately for a trip to the convenience store. This woman was dressed for a high-end cocktail party, wearing a little red dress and black stilettos with hair that must’ve had taken at least an hour to style. She didn’t seem to belong in Missouri at all.

“Yeah, that’s Nicky,” a familiar voice pulled Jan from her thoughts.

“Fuck, how long have you been standing there?” Jan jumped slightly, putting her hand to her chest.

Gigi shrugged. “Not as long as you’ve been staring, I imagine,” she mused, then looked Jan over. “What happened to you? You look like hell.”

Jan huffed, crossing her arms with a pout. “I went on a run, thank you very much. I did a whole… half a mile.”

“Oh shit, didn’t realize you were training for a triathlon,” she teased.

“You too?” another woman, presumably one of Gigi’s friends, chimed in out of seemingly nowhere. “What’s your routine? I’m pretty sure I’ve got mine down, but-”

“It was a joke, Kameron,” Gigi cut her off.

Kameron wasn’t alone either, as a shorter brunette joined her side. “Who’s your friend, Gigi?” she asked. “This the girl from the party you was talkin’ about?”

Jan smirked as she looked from Gigi’s friends back to her. “You were talking about me?” she asked, twirling her ponytail around her finger.

“Never,” she retorted dryly. “Jan, let me introduce you to two friends, one brain cell. This is Kameron and Vanessa.”

“Vanjie.”

Gigi rolled her eyes. “She goes by Vanjie.”

Jan offered the two of them a bright smile. “So nice to meet you guys,” she said, though her attention started to shift when she heard the click of high heels on linoleum getting louder and the conversation between Crystal and Nicky entered earshot.

“Who’s the sweaty girl with Gigi?” Nicky asked with perturbed confusion.

“What?” Crystal looked where her girlfriend was pointing. “Jan?”

“You know her?”

Crystal swallowed thickly, her eyes darting back and forth between Nicky and Jan. “No! I mean yes. I mean… kind of?”

“Kind of?” Gigi chimed in. “I thought you guys were friends.”

“We are,” Jan jumped in to assure. “It’s just been a while since we saw each other at summer camp,” she explained, happy to be able to tell the truth. “It’s been a while, we were–”

“Ten!” Crystal abruptly cut in. “That’s why the details are a little hazy, you know? It’s been so long.”

Jan furrowed her brows and looked at Crystal with a mix of hurt and confusion on her face. She tried to meet her eyes, hoping she’d explain, but to no avail – Crystal wasn’t looking at her at all, her eyes were fixed on Nicky.

Nicky did look skeptical, though she didn’t say so. “Well, you did smoke away most of your brain cells, I guess that makes sense,” she decided, watching as her girlfriend’s entire body relaxed in relief. Then her attention shifted to Jan, whom she offered a polite smile. “So nice to meet you,” she said, offering her hand out – not to shake, it was more like she was presenting it on display.

Not that Jan questioned it; she surmised that it fit the way Nicky carried herself. “The pleasure’s all mine,” she chirped, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“What is it that you do?” Nicky questioned as she looked her over.

“Jan’s a lawyer!” Crystal jumped in yet again, though this time it appeared to be in Jan’s defense. “You just started at a firm out here, right?”

Jan nodded, ignoring the way her chest was still aching. “Yeah, it’s been going super well so far. What about you, Nicky?”

“I am a professional hairstylist,” she answered stiffly. “I do Beyoncé’s personal trainer’s sister’s hair, it’s very high-profile.”

Both Gigi and Crystal, with slight grimaces, had opened their mouths to say something, but Jan cut right in. “Really? Oooh, how fun! You should totally let me know if you’re ever taking new clients.”

Crystal winced and once again tried to interject, but Nicky answered before she could. “I do think I can fit you in, as a courtesy at least. Since you are a friend of Crystal’s,” she told her, then rifled through her purse until she pulled out a business card and handed it to Jan.

While neither Jan nor Nicky had noticed how Crystal was stressing out and Kameron and Vanessa had long since wandered off, Gigi noticed and cocked her head to the side so Crystal would follow her down the next aisle. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing!” Crystal insisted. “I just… don’t think it’s a good idea for Jan and Nicky to be friends. You know how she gets.”

“I guess,” Gigi shrugged. “But Jan seems pretty non-threatening, it’s not like you guys fucked or anything, right?”

She swallowed thickly. “Right. Because we only knew each other as kids and that would be weird,” she reminded herself, not wanting to forget the lie she’d established.

Her friend was dubious, but allowed it to slide. “So… Jan is definitely available, then?”

Crystal’s eyes lit up, this was perfect. “She is. Are you into her, Geege? Because you should ask her out, she’s great. And you’re great. So it would be, you know, great.”

Gigi shrugged, glancing down. “I dunno,” she told her, though a slight smile tugged at her lips. “Maybe.”

Before Crystal could argue her case further, Nicky rounded the corner. “Crystal, come on, we’re gonna be late,” she whined.

“We better go,” Crystal said to Gigi. “But think about what I said.”

——

Jan looked at her phone – 12:48 pm. She was a bit early for her hair appointment, by no accident. As soon as she stepped inside, she wanted to try to fit in a bit of a tour.

The salon reminded Jan of the one she would visit during the winter break she had spent in Beverly Hills. It was clean and chic and everyone who worked there could’ve moonlighted as a Victoria’s Secret model. Normally, she wasn’t intimidated by that, but she found herself cutting her tour short as anxiety started twisting her stomach into knots. Sure, she was used to the high-end life, but that didn’t make her ‘cool’. Jan didn’t know how to be cool – her ideal Friday night consisted of Chinese food, a bottle of wine, and her library of bootleg musicals.

But Nicky? Nicky oozed cool out of every invisible pore. It sent Jan back to her middle school days when she would see the popular kids and silently yearned to unlock the secrets to social acceptance. And while thirteen-year-old Jan had found the answer when she started high school without braces and with newly-developed D-cups, things were far less simple in adulthood.

“Jan?” The girl at the front desk pulled her back into reality. “You can go ahead and take the middle chair. Nicky will be right with you.”

Jan nodded and thanked her as she moved to take her seat. By the time Nicky made her way over, her racing thoughts had slowed to a walking pace, something she was eternally grateful for.

“Your hair is so thick and smooth,” Nicky observed, a hint of surprise in her tone. “You’re Italian?”

“Half Italian, half Jewish,” she confirmed. “Lots of hair on both sides.”

“I could tell from your arms,” she remarked offhandedly, but by then she was massaging shampoo into Jan’s scalp, rendering her too blissed out to register the comment.

Jan was entranced almost instantly, and she understood why Nicky worked at the only salon in Springfield with a near five-star rating. She had gotten actual massages that were less satisfying, and she was already certain she would be happy with any final result. “So, how long have you and Crystal been together?” she asked after a brief silence, curious as to how her answer would compare to Gigi’s.

“Since I moved here in the tenth grade,” Nicky answered. “Not consistently, but that isn’t the important thing.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re together now,” Jan murmured through gritted teeth, regretting bringing it up in the first place and deciding to change the subject. “This place is so nice, how long have you worked here?”

Nicky was too focused on Jan’s hair to notice the shift in tone. “About a year and a half, I cannot complain, but the goal is to open my own salon. I even think I can poach some of these girls to come with me,” she told her. “But securing a space is impossible.”

“I work in real estate law, you’re preaching to the choir,” she nodded, though her mind was already doing a speedrun of ideas. This was the ‘in’ she needed, how she could win Nicky’s favor and be her friend.

The comment didn’t connect the dots for Nicky, who finished Jan’s hair and spun her around. “And we’re done, what do you think?”

Jan gasped, her eyes bright and wide. It wasn’t an act, she was genuinely impressed with what Nicky had done. She had only trimmed a couple of inches off, but the styling was pristine, she never wanted to wash her hair again because she was afraid she could never get it back to this. “It’s gorgeous, oh my God.” As she got up and paid her, she added “Don’t stop thinking about getting your own salon, in fact, text me the info about the space you’re trying to secure,” with a wink.

Nicky’s intrigue outweighed her trepidation. “I guess you can give it your best shot, then. Landlord’s a real asshole, though.”

——

Brita eagerly led Jan into an empty conference room and set a folder down on the table. “Okay, so, what’s the plan? Before you say anything, I already looked it up and we can’t deport her to France unless we frame her for murder.”

Jan shut the door behind her and rushed to Brita’s side with concern and confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? No one’s being deported or framed for murder or… seriously, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Isn’t that what you were up to at your little hair appointment? Getting close to Nicky to find her weaknesses and exploit them to get her out of the picture? Everyone overshares at hair salons, it’s just how it works,” she explained as she opened the folder up. “I printed out all of the important social media posts dating back from when she started dating Crystal.”

“Brita, that’s eleven years’ worth of posts!”

She scoffed. “And? Do you want your happy ending with Crystal or not? Nicky is an obstacle in your way, she is the enemy.”

Jan rolled her eyes. “I don’t want her to be the enemy. I like her. She’s so cool and pretty and she smells nice and–”

Brita grabbed Jan by the shoulders and shook her. “Listen to yourself! This isn’t the Jan and Nicky love story, it’s the Jan and Crystal love story. The last thing you need to do is go all starry-eyed over, and I cannot stress this enough, Crystal’s girlfriend.”

“Okay, so, I get that you wanna help and I really appreciate it, but I promise I totally have this under control. You keep working on your plans, I’m sure they’re great.”

She sighed and let go of Jan. “I’m sorry, I know I’m intense and everything, but I just really like you and want to help you. I’ve always wanted a daughter, you know? I have a fourteen year old son, and he’s an asshole.”

Jan’s expression softened. “Aw, I didn’t realize… but that’s sweet, and it’d be nice to have a mother figure that isn’t massively disappointed in me right now. Don’t ask, it’s a story for another day.” Ideally that day would never come, but she didn’t expect Brita to let her off the hook on that either. “On that note, um, don’t get mad, but I’m getting brunch with Nicky tomorrow. But it’s a business brunch.”

“A business brunch?” Brita looked at her skeptically.

“I’m helping her get her own salon. The landlord’s a jerk but he’s only like, a four out of ten compared to what I’ve dealt with. And…” she strummed her fingers against the table as she tried to think on her feet. “Think of it this way – if she’s busy at her own salon, she’ll have less time with Crystal.”

Brita beamed and cupped Jan’s face, squishing her cheeks. “There’s that Harvard-Columbia brain at work, I knew you had a plan. You didn’t need to worry me like that, missy.”

Jan pressed her lips into a fine line and nodded. “It won’t happen again.”

——

Jan tried to keep her conversation with Brita in mind when she was out to brunch with Nicky, she really did put in an effort. But then she found out mid-mimosa that they got the location for the salon and Nicky showered her with gracious praise and it all went out the window. Jan’s latent praise kink and overwhelming desire to win Nicky over was more than enough to keep her from heeding Brita’s warning.

So, it didn’t end at business brunch. They wound up back at Jan’s house, talking, laughing, drinking, as if they had been friends this whole time. And Jan was becoming more and more convinced that in the end, she could have the best of both worlds – she could have Crystal as her girlfriend and Nicky as her bestie. There was no downside in that, right?

“Have you heard of The Nebula?” Nicky asked as she set the glass down on the coffee table, “It’s this cool, exclusive club downtown. Crystal and I were planning on going tomorrow night, you should come.”

Jan nearly spilled her drink with how quickly she perked up. She almost couldn’t believe this had worked so well and so fast. “Really? Oh my god, yeah, that’d be so much fun. I am such a club girl.”

“You’re so fun,” Nicky giggled, resting her head on Jan’s shoulder. “I love how fun you are, we’re gonna have the best time ever. You’re totally not the cunty east coast bitch I thought you’d be.”

“Aw, thank you!” Jan hugged Nicky from the side.

Nicky had ended up staying into the late afternoon, waiting until she was sober enough to take care of some things at the salon, but happily reminded Jan several times over that they would be going to The Nebula the next day at nine.

——

“Alright, are you gonna tell me what’s on your mind or not?” Crystal prompted as she watched Gigi absentmindedly clean the same glass for the third time.

Gigi looked up, finally putting the glass away and tossing the towel over her shoulder. “You know damn well I try to keep my head empty at any given moment.”

Even though Crystal might have agreed at times, she wouldn’t take that as an answer. “Come on, you’ve been weird ever since we all ran into each other at the store the other day.”

“I just…” she hesitated, chewing on her lip. “What’s her deal, anyway?”

“Who?”

“Jan.”

Crystal smirked. “See? I knew you liked her. You never act like that around girls like you did at the store. I don’t know what the hold-up is, she’s cool.”

Gigi snorted. “Cool isn’t the word I’d use, babe,” she retorted dryly, then added, “you sure she’s not into you?”

“What? Of course not. I told you already, we were kids, remember?” Despite how comically suspicious her voice was, Gigi didn’t push her any further, so she continued. “Hey, Jan’s coming with us to Nebula tonight. You should come, it could be like a cute double date.”

After a bit of hesitation, Gigi nodded. “Yeah, alright. My shift ended ten minutes ago anyway, I just gotta get home and change.”

The four of them met at Jan’s house, as she lived the closest to downtown, and took an Uber (Jan happily upgraded them to the best option) to the club. Considering they were four attractive women in mini dresses, they were granted entry easily and went right to ordering rounds of drinks.

It only took a few drinks to get Crystal and Nicky on the dance floor, giggling and grinding to the beat. But Nicky stopped after a couple minutes when she realized Jan and Gigi were still lingering awkwardly at the table, and simply had to remedy that. She jogged back to the table and grabbed both of them by the arm. “Come on, Jan, dance with Gigi,” she insisted, pushing them together.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” Jan admitted as she draped her arms around Gigi’s neck. “This doesn’t seem like your scene. Like, you probably think the music is too generic and the drinks are too sweet.”

“Well, both of those things are true.” Gigi rested her hands on Jan’s waist, the two of them doing the bare minimum to count as dancing. “But Crystal dragged me out and I thought it might be fun to watch you get drunk and make an ass out of yourself.”

Jan scoffed. Sure, she was a lightweight and already tipsy, but she thought she could ignore it if she tried hard enough. “Why don’t you get me another drink then, Captain Cynical?”

“Oh, I’m a captain? Here I thought I was just Lieutenant Cynical,” she teased, then let go of her to go to the bar.

While Jan was waiting, Nicky came back over and pulled her to dance with her and Crystal. “You and Gigi look good together,” Nicky remarked.

“You’d look good with anyone,” Jan mused playfully. “Oh my god, if we hooked up, we’d all be even!” She gasped, gesturing between the three of them and giggling at what she thought was a funny observation.

But Nicky and Crystal all but froze in their tracks. “What do you mean by that?”

Jan glanced at Crystal, suddenly remembering the lie she’d helped commit to. “I just, um…” To her relief, Gigi had rejoined them at that moment. “Oh good, you’re back!” She quickly took the drink and started to down it.

“No, no, tell me what you meant by that,” Nicky insisted.

Realizing she had been caught, Jan thought the only option was to tell the truth. “I meant, well, you and Crystal are together, and we, um… used to be…”

“You both said you weren’t,” Gigi cut in. “You both insisted you weren’t. What the fuck?”

“I just didn’t wanna make things weird!” Crystal defended. “But… yeah… Jan and I were actually sixteen when we met and um… did stuff.”

Nicky’s face reddened with anger. “I can’t believe you both lied to me!” She turned to Crystal. “We are leaving and will be talking about this. And you,” she turned to Jan, “just stay away from us.”

Although Jan tried to object and plead her case, Nicky was already storming out of the club with Crystal in tow, leaving her alone with Gigi. “Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it.”

“For a Harvard-Columbia grad, you’re kind of stupid, aren’t you?”

Jan pouted and nodded.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

Jan nodded again.

Gigi wrapped her arm around Jan’s shoulders and walked her out of the club and got into an Uber with her once it arrived.

The ride was quiet, enough so that by the time they arrived at Jan’s house, she was asleep with her head in Gigi’s lap.

Being rail-thin and fragile looking in comparison, Gigi struggled carrying Jan into the house and placing her on the couch. “God, you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” she muttered to herself before taking the blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over Jan.

Just as Gigi was in the middle of contemplating if she should stay or leave, Jan started to wake up. “Ah, it lives.”

Jan looked around, slowly realizing that she was on her couch, and that Gigi tucked her in. She pushed herself to sit up a bit. “Um… thank you, you know, for helping me in. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, I know you’re probably pissed at me too.”

“Oh, I am,” Gigi readily assured. “But you look like a sad baby deer, so I can’t just abandon you, I guess,” she decided. “You need help getting to bed, Bambi?”

“Please,” Jan mumbled. The two of them went upstairs and Jan stepped into the bathroom to get changed and wash her face. Then once again, Gigi tucked her into bed.

Once Jan was sound asleep, Gigi went downstairs and crashed on the couch. But she woke up early in the morning and left without a trace. Without the alcohol softening her heart, she found herself mad at the fact that she so easily overlooked what Jan did in favor of taking care of her. And what was worse was that she still liked her.

When Jan woke up, she went downstairs, only to find her house empty. She felt a pang of disappointment, only to perk up at a knock on the door. “Gigi?” No answer, so with another wave of hopefulness she asked “Crystal?” as she opened the door.

“How funny, Gigi and Crystal are exactly who we need to talk about,” Brita huffed as she walked inside. “You are skating on thin ice,” she warned, walking Jan to the couch and sitting down. “What happened last night?”

Jan sighed. “Nicky found out Crystal and I were together and now she hates me and Gigi took me home. That’s it.”

Brita pinched the bridge of her nose. “I was afraid of this,” she muttered and took a deep breath. “It’s fine, we just need a new plan.”