#my boss’s husband rented six

[babyjeep]

I’ve just learned about ghost marriages. Feeling many emotions at once about this.

[gutsby]

Easy to Please

Pairing: Sleazy Landlord!Joel x Reader

Summary: Months pass, and you can’t make rent—again. You find another way to pay your sleazy landlord. Again.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Oral (m!receiving). Dubcon à la power imbalance / sex for money. Infidelity. Pervy!Joel. Talks of abuse. Omitting one tag to avoid spoiling the ending—please read at your own risk.

Note: This fic was loosely inspired by my three favorite songs about female adultery—‘Thinkin’ Bout Cheatin’ by Mae Estes, ‘Lyin’ Eyes’ by The Eagles, and ‘Cheatin’ Songs’ by Midland. No, I don’t support infidelity. Yes, it makes for fun fiction.

Word count: 3.1k

You hate the face he makes when he cums.

You hate the way he tastes when he’s done.

You hate the grit and the heft of the man, every lone hair that sprouts silver from his chest, and the way he pats the open space beside him in bed after you roll away.

‘Never seen a girl so goddamn allergic to cuddling!’

What makes his observation worse is that you know you’re hating it more and more with every passing day.

Today you have seven Benjamins, two Grants, and a Jackson tucked into your purse. You walk with a sluggish gait, knowing you’re $310 short of making this month’s rent and last. But you go on anyway. It’s not like Joel can’t see you from where he’s seated on the porch.

The pleasantries you exchange are short. By now, you have only to breeze past him in his lawn chair and say, ‘I can’t stay long,’ and he knows the rest. He grabs his six-pack, then his Pall Malls, and asks after you all the same.

“How’s the wrist?” he says.

You sprained it over the weekend. You aren’t sure how he heard. At any rate, you ignore the question and set your bag down on the counter before going to the fridge. You deflect with a question of your own—what the hell happened to the lemonade? He had a full jug last week.

“Got thirsty,” Joel answers, shrugging.

You’re always thirsty, you tell him, and you eye the case of Heineken that he’s placed by your purse. You don’t need to see his face to feel the smile starting to form.

“Don’t I know it,” he says. Insinuating.

You’d hit him over the head if you’d been able to reach. He’s still smiling when your shoulder checks his—closer to his elbow, from the feel of it—and when you leave the kitchen, he leaves too. He trails behind you with an ease that says this is the sixth time this has happened since August, and you’re hardly a week out from Halloween.

It’s not just rent you need to pay; it’s other things. Transmission in your truck’s gone to shit. Phone’s been on the fritz since you dropped it in the tub. Talking heads on TV say the country’s on track to get hit with another recession, and from the way your boss has been slashing your hours in half, you think they may be right. The crack in your bathroom window was tiny last week. Today it’s gone, because your husband put his fist through the thing on Sunday. You patched the hole with duct tape.

Joel’s covering the cost for the pane to be replaced, but that’s because he has to. He’s your landlord—proud owner of the Delta Commons trailer park since ‘97—and that’s what landlords do. Everything else is yours to pay.

You’re a part-time student, part-time waitress, and a full-time caretaker for your ailing spouse, or so you call him. Joel knows Stetson’s not sick, just perennially unemployed and drunk. You pay for most things, and it’s rarely enough to cover your rent. Stetson doesn’t care.

And that’s where Joel comes in.

No pun intended, but in his mind, there’s really no nicer way to say it: you fuck his brains out to make up for the shortfall in rent. You blow him before work to make sure your husband and you will have enough to eat that week. You bite the warm, freckled skin between his shoulder and his neck while you ride him, because you know that gesture will get you a little extra cash when you leave. You smile after swallowing him, and Joel knows that it tastes like shit. You’ve gotten good at faking it lately.

What he hopes isn’t totally fabricated is the way you call him big. Strong. Handsome. So stupidly well-endowed that you have to wince for the first few seconds when you sit on it, and go slow when he takes you from behind

“O-ow!” you whine presently.

His dick isn’t even in you yet. You just stubbed your toe on the edge of his dresser on your way to the bathroom.

“You alright?”

“Fuck me!”

I will, he thinks.

“Want me to get an ice—”

“Let go-OW! FUCK!”

Joel barely even touched your wrist and you were flinching away with a brand new pain. You rub it, almost defensively, then pin him with an icy glare. Nice going.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Now he’ll be lucky if he can swing a half-hearted handy from the one that isn’t hurt. That’s how mad you look.

You turn your body away, and for a second, Joel assumes that his fate has been sealed: you’ll bumble over to the rug by his bed, toss a pillow on the floor, and assume what he already knows to be your least favorite position. You’ll kneel, and talk of migraines and your long, grueling day and in the end find an excuse not to use your mouth. That’ll be okay. But with the debts you owe him now, it also won’t be enough, and Joel will have to ask you back again. He hates sounding needy, but baby, deal’s a deal.

Luckily you don’t give him the chance to use that line. Much to his surprise, you get on the bed. You lie down. You seem to take a little more care settling in this time, but you take off your clothes. It’s a lime green tank top and some ratty jean skirt, but it’s enough to tempt him.

And not just tempt, but oblige him to accept, unblinking. He crawls over the bed to get to you, and he finds that his spit’s filling his mouth a little quicker. His hands are starting to shake as they slide over the duvet, and the tree trunks he once called his legs are runny, like eggs.

He has to remind himself, bluntly, of your last name, the shiny ring on your hand, your husband’s name, your—

“Age—what’d you say your age was again?” Joel asks.

You look confused for a second, but you tell him.

“Twenty-one.”

Way too fucking young to have gotten hitched three years ago. But then he remembers this is Leakey, Texas, and your family hasn’t strayed more than ten miles from the center of town in four generations. You told him that.

“I thought you said twenty,” Joel says, a little uneasy.

“I did. Up until this past Sunday I was.”

“Oh.”

A beat.

“Happy birthday.”

You blink.

“You gonna take your pants off or what?”

And he does. Maybe embarrassed at first, but then the jeans come off, and his boxers go next, and without so much as a word or a breath, his worries are sliding away like water off his back. Like his clothes now peeling off.

Like your smile growing thin at the sight of him half-stripped on the bed in front of you. Joel doesn’t flatter himself to think he’s even half as handsome as he was in his youth, but he knows he has his draws. What endears him to you today is, unfortunately, his wallet. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be convinced to like him more.

More than Stetson, he thinks without humor.

Dumb son of a bitch can’t tell his ass from his elbow and yet he’s won himself you, living it up these last three y—

“Oh.”

He sounds like an owl now. His clothes are off, and you’re rubbing him, pumping him gently in your hand, which you were so kind to make wet with your saliva. It even sounds better than his, the way it squelches with every flick. Joel can only say so much in strangled breaths.

He tries anyway:

“Feel like a dream, sweet pea.”

Sweet pea.

Your pace quickens. Joel swears he can see the corners of your lips twitch, but then he thinks you’re just wincing. You move down to the floor beside the bed. Kneel almost politely while you nestle yourself between his parted legs

Your mouth is warm. It’s always warm. Joel wouldn’t expect a girl’s tongue to greet his dick like ice, but yours is always heated to a thousand degrees, it feels like. He enjoys the sting. Your lips envelop his big, leaking tip, and he swears he can stay like this forever—in you.

On you, too. He’s got his palm resting flat on your head, and he doesn’t mean to, but he pushes. He bunches your hair in a fist and drags your face to make you swallow.

Mean old man, you must be saying in your head when he stuffs your mouth full. Makes your eyes prick with tears.

Sweet girl. My sweet pea, he thinks, affectionately, and continues to rub your scalp. He holds your teary gaze.

And then you’re moving up. Down. Coating his length with shiny spit and tiny whimpers as your lips move gently back and forth, again and again. Joel’s grip tightens in your hair, and he begs for more. More.

“More,” he orders, jaw clenched, “Fit a little more’a me.”

From where you’re kneeling below, you look put off.

Then you pull off, and you wipe your wet chin.

“Chokin’ me,” you grumble, “‘S’too big.”

Normally, Joel loves to hear that.

Now, however, he’s sliding his touch to your chin and tilting your head up to him. Thumbing at the spit dribbling out on either side of your mouth and subsequently coaxing your lips further apart.

He slides back in, and you don’t fight it. You like it. Holding his gaze in a soft, docile look while your lips stretch deliciously around his shaft, you must love it. Every inch and every twinge of pleasure from the brush of his cock going in and out must be your favorite thing.

Joel hopes it is, anyway. He holds your face now, and your throat convulses involuntarily. You’re so pretty.

“Such a good, sweet girl, ain’t ya?” he presses, watching the coarse grey hairs at the base of him tickle your face.

You respond well to praise. You preen under those words, and try to nod. But his cock is so deep down your throat you end up choking again. Joel watches all of it smiling.

Petting your head and not pushing again. Grinning.

“Love my cock nice and stuffed in that pretty throat?”

You blink instead of nodding, but it’s more than enough.

“Love me deep?”

And the head of him sinks somewhere he’s never been. Your eyes are like two wide pools, and your lips leak everywhere—your chin, your cheeks, your neck.

Joel’s smearing it all with his palm and smiling so wide that he thinks he might pull a muscle. He pants heavily.

“Just what you’re made for. Just what you need.”

You look like you might agree. He keeps going.

“My fuckin’ mouth. My pretty, pretty mouth.”

He holds your face. He thinks he might cum.

“Ain’t a damn thing Stetson can do for this mouth, huh?”

And then he doesn’t. Joel barely blinks, and you’re already bucking your head out of his hold, mouth skittering away while the spit spills out. You’re practically drenched down to the chest when your face rears back. Your eyes are alight and no longer smiling when you grit:

“Don’t.”

Joel should’ve known better.

He’s hit a raw nerve, and now he really wishes he hadn’t.

It doesn’t stop there—but it doesn’t get better, either. Things progress in much the same way as they always have but with none of the need, or the warmth, of before. You climb back up and straddle him quick. Not meeting his eye, you just sit down, and slide down, and don’t wince at all. You don’t tell him that he’s big, and he doesn’t get the chance to even groan at the first influx of pleasure before you’re riding him. Bouncing and grinding your hips against his with all the passion of someone perusing the newspaper. You don’t whimper or moan.

Of course, Joel enjoys the feeling. He also wants someone to punch him in the throat for what he’s done.

“Hey, hon—” he starts, voice strained, “Hon, I’m sorr—”

“Shut up,” you snap.

Your movements hardly falter, and now your hand is seizing the headboard. You’re clenching him tight inside your wet, drooling cunt, and it’s obvious you’re trying to make him cum as quickly as possible. You swallow hard.

Joel isn’t sure what to do. On the one hand, his body is being flooded with pleasure, and on the other, he fears you may never do this with him again. Quickly fixing on the latter, he cups your face in one hand. It’s still wet.

His fingers smear the spit, and somehow you look even prettier. You keep grinding your body in desperate little fits above him, and really, you feel fucking amazing, but Joel is too focused on other thoughts. He squeezes you.

“Baby—” he tries again, but you shush him just as fast.

Your hips are moving viciously now. No matter how sore your legs might have been from a long day toiling away—just a couple hours before your shift at your next job, if Joel’s remembering correctly—you’re working him well. Doing him in. Fucking his brains out, but you aren’t his.

His fingers smear the spit even more. Never will be his.

“Sweet pea—”

“Don’t fucking call me that!”

Now he can’t deny that his climax is close. But this isn’t how he wanted it to end—with you so incensed you can hardly look him in the eye. His hand rubs more, helpless.

And just when he’s seconds away from painting your insides white, losing it all to the pleasure, he sees it.

His wet, sticky touch has uncovered a residue.

Joel pulls his fingers away in a blink, and simultaneously, your eyes are fluttering closed. You’re focused now on climax; because of that, you don’t see what he sees.

What he’s stunned to find on his fingers: makeup.

Lots and lots of thick, heavy makeup on your cheeks. Concealer, he thinks he’s heard it called once or twice.

No matter the name, he quickly comes to see what it’s for. Just as you’re hitting your peak, squeezing the headboard behind him, and coming undone with a shockwave trembling all through your body, Joel pales.

The makeup that you applied so heavy tonight hides bruises. Black and blue and awful hues of greenish-purple too, your whole face, he sees, is engulfed.

He doesn’t speak. He won’t ask.

He won’t cum tonight, either.

He’ll finish something else.

You leave Joel’s trailer angry. You don’t say goodbye. The screen door screams shut behind you when you leave, and silently, you wonder why he didn’t cum. For once, you wish he had—and hadn’t said half of what he did.

Six hours pass like molasses, and by the end of it all—the close of your second shift—Stetson’s name still echoes in your head. The way Joel said it. It hums along the walls of your skull while you walk, and as you draw closer to home, you remember that strange and infuriating tone.

Then you remember your own less than two months ago:

Don’t talk to my husband. Don’t talk about my husband.

They were two simple rules, and Joel broke them both.

He must’ve defied the first when paying a visit to make repairs that week, and that’s when Stetson mentioned your hand: how you ‘slipped’ in the bath. Tripped and conveniently sprained your wrist the same night he almost tore your arm out of the socket for looking at a waiter a tad too long at dinner. You’d bet any sum of money Joel didn’t get to hear that part from Stetson when he came over to see about the window, though.

No, your twenty-first came and went without so much as a word about your wrist. Your arm. Your face—used to getting caked with concealer every third week or so.

You wince as you open the door. You walk slowly.

At first, you’re met with silence, and you sigh with relief. Then you hear it, and shortly drop your purse to the floor.

You all but fall down yourself at the sight: your husband doubled over across from you, in the kitchen. His head in his hands. You don’t need to see the face to know that it’s bleeding. Profusely. You tread ever slower into the room, thinking somehow, some way he’s going to blame this on you. And when he straightens a little and shows off the full, gruesome extent of his injuries, you blanch to think that it might be. His body’s been beaten to a pulp.

Your pulse hammers in your head so loud you can’t hear him groan. You see him, but you don’t really believe it.

And when Stetson reaches for you, you stagger back.

Your hands skim the counter, but your brain barely registers it. Your husband’s calling to you now, ‘Quit standin’ there lookin’ stupid, do somethin’, huh?!’ He’s screaming, and you’re not hearing it. Barely feeling like a sentient person at all but just a doll stumbling backward on two wooden legs. As you walk, your palm stays stuck to the laminate underneath it, and suddenly, you feel it.

An envelope.

In this state, you aren’t sure why you grab it, but you do.

You take the lone white paper, and you turn to leave. Your hands shake as you hold the thing, and your legs are hardly any better, but they carry you, miraculously, from the kitchen to the threshold of the back door. Then out. Stetson’s not just yelling but bellowing, loud, every last obscenity known to man as he holds his bloodied side and limps in his perilous, pathetic way. Fortunately, you’re gone just in time to miss the bottle he hurls.

Outside, you walk. And walk. And in the still of the night you’re obliged to find your way through a miscellany of trailers and trucks and old, creaking vans by moonlight, and the throbbing in your head begins to slow. You don’t rush to get far, and you don’t have your keys even if you wanted to drive off. You keep walking. Watching nothing.

When your eyes drift to the envelope in your hand, you barely see that either. You’re just blinking as you look, and breathing as you wait for the sight to make sense.

Inside, you find seven Benjamins, two Grants, and a Jackson staring back. Next to them are a few dozen others—enough to cover August, September, October, and several months before that, if you had to guess.

You hope you’ll get the opportunity to thank Joel, and maybe tell him that you don’t really hate him, someday.

[cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien]

Solar Opposites in Mighty Solars Issue #4: “Fighting for Family” Ch. 6

The next day…

Korvo is impress by Terry cleaning up after ending his dog brothel career, which he was doing to just to raise money for rent and loan.

Terry Solar-Opposites: Sorry about the mess honey. I was trying to pay money for rent and stuff.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Aw, Terry. You didn’t have to do this.

Terry Solar-Opposites: I know, but I didn’t want us to lose our home and I thought if I get a job as dog brothel, it could help raise money for us. I’m sorry babe. Plus, I don’t want to pick dog shit anymore.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Oh, Terry…

Terry Solar-Opposites: I know. starts crying I really fucked things up. I’m so sorry! I think turning human was-

Korvo cuts Terry of with a kiss.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Oh Terry. I know why you were doing this. You were just trying to help the family, but I do have to admit. Being a dog broathal pimp is a bad idea

Terry Solar-Opposites: I know… sniffles

Korvo Solar-Opposites: I’m proud you did this. You know why?

Terry Solar-Opposites: Why?

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Because you did it to help raise money for to support our family. Getting human forms was the best thing of our lives and don’t worry. I have a plan.

Terry is confused.

Terry Solar-Opposites: What?

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Come with me.

The duo then turn into their human forms and head to a place called Earth-4 Laboratories and Human Terry is surprised but concern about his husband.

Human Terry Solar-Opposites: Korv, what is all this?

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: Terry, my whole life I wanted to contribute to science well this is finally my chance and this is a positive work place I can assign to. Now as Quasarblast, I must take that risk of having a double life, even if it means giving up waking the Earth as a Shlorpian.

Terry smiles.

Human Terry Solar-Opposites: Honey? Do you really want to do this?

Human Korvo nods.

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: I have to. It’s the only way. The Solar Opposites must give up their lives as Shlorpians and now walk the Earth as humans. For good…

Human Terry sighs sadly.

Human Terry Solar-Opposites: I know. It sucks.

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: I know. But it’s the only way no one can know I am Qausarblast. But don’t worry, Terry things will work out. I promise.

Six Months Later…

*Cue the song, “Once in a Lifetime” from Talking Heads*:

Terry Solar-Opposites: breaking the 4th Wall Wait, Korvy? Isn’t a montage supposed to happen?

Korvo laughs.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Mmm, sadly no because those cheap assholes didn’t have time to make one. hears the kids laughing

Phoebe MacCarthy: Hey there you two. You’re back early. How was studying the library today for the first time as humans?

Jesse Solar-Opposites: Pretty cool, still we also did normal studying with Stacy G.

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: That and we used the homework ray. Still, what are you making for dinner again?

Phoebe MacCarthy: Oh, lasagna.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Phoebe and I have prepping all day, it’ll be ready in 10 minutes.

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: Hey, Jesse. Wanna play Star Wars?

Jesse Solar-Opposites: That sounds like a great idea, big bro. playfully punches Yumyulack in the shoulder as they both grin

Then, a phone started. Terry picks up the phone and answers it.

Terry Solar-Opposites: Hello. This is Terry.

Then, Terry recognize the voice.

Terry Solar-Opposites: Oh hello Mr. Cloverfield. You wanna come over tomorrow night? Well, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Korvo and I didn’t have any plans so we would like that. Bye.

Terry hangs up the phone while Korvo is humming while toasting a sliced loaf of garlic bread with a kitchen blowtorch.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Who was on the phone?

Terry Solar-Opposites: Oh that was your boss. He decided to come over for dinner tomorrow night and he would like for it to be both chicken and eggplant Parmesan too.

Korvo gasps.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Really? Why’s that such great news. He must’ve want to come over to know about me and you guys more like an interview. Better head to the store later.

Then, Terry walks over to a window and sighs.

Terry Solar-Opposites: Y’know it’s been a crazy few months…

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Oh, what do you mean honey?

Terry Solar-Opposites: Man, is this really what our lives are right now? More awesome than the other times?

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: Yeah. Remember we saved the world from fucked up humanity like from ice lava, napadoodles that turn people into wine and teenage zombies? And that time I almost destroyed humanity with a giant radioactive dick?

Terry laughs.

Terry Solar-Opposites: Yeah. Or that one time we made a crazy deenosuar that tried to kill us, and that time Korvo and I turn invisible?

Korvo Solar-Opposites: I kinda liked being invisible because I got to fuck you.

Terry Solar-Opposites: Oh ho, glad you did. kisses Korvo on the lips

Yumyulack gags.

Jesse Solar-Opposites: I even got Stacy F covered in dicks at the Above the Sea dance.

Terry snickers.

Phoebe MacCarthy: Yeah. Plus, I am so glad we don’t have to go over the Pupa turn into steam incident all over again. Because, this new state of our lives is surprisingly better than when Korvo and Terry got jobs at that stupid rake company.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: I remember that nightmare like it was yesterday…

Solar-Opposites: Oh yeah. Thank God. This is way better. Thank the lord. Last year fucking suck.

Terry sighs and leans against Korvo’s shoulder.

Terry Solar-Opposites: smiling Yep. Those were the days. But, at least it was worth it because Korvo’s identity as Quasarblast is safe. looks at Pupa watching Disney’s The Little Mermaid ’23 on his new ‘23 IPad What do you think Pupa, is our new lives better now that Korvo is a superhero now?

Pupa Solar-Opposites: takes off his headphones I love Quasarblast. And I love Ariel.

The Solars smile as they look at Korvo.

Terry Solar-Opposites: Yep. It was worth it. For Korvo.

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites, Jesse Solar-Opposites and Phoebe MacCarthy: For Korvo.

Korvo starts crying with happiness. Korvo and Terry then kiss, Korvo then hears someone screaming for help.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: One sec honey, I’ll be right back.

Korvo turns into Quasarblast. Then, he flies. A fight was heard offscreen while Phoebe gets out the lasagna that is made into perfection. Then, a police siren was heard as a crook complaining was also heard. Finally, Quasarblast comes back and turns back into Korvo as he takes a deep breath and smirks.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: That was fun. Wanna have sex, Terry?

Terry Solar-Opposites: Damn honey! That was impressive and just in time for dinner.

Then, Terry smirks and grow seductively. Korvo laughs.

Terry Solar-Opposites: Oh hell yeah. After dinner you heroic stud. Bring your lingerie please.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: I will.

The two husbands kiss.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Yep. This is our lives now. grins in a satisfied manner

The next day, Human Korvo walks to the laboratory while the song continues playing in the background as he smiles and takes a deep breath after putting on his lab uniform and looks at his new desk and office with stuff about his family but in their human forms and with Phoebe and their human friends and families too. Human Korvo wipes away a tear and smiles as he adjust his glasses as the song starts to fade.

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: takes a deep breath Let’s do this.

Human Korvo then walks to the labratory while a picture of Quasarblast saving the day is shown as the camera pans forward to it and the scene cuts to the credits.

THE END

Special thanks to @avaveevo, @asikreading, @themagicwolf6677, @king-of-squishmallows and all of my watchers for their help, ideas and support.

[aces-and-angels]

Title: How Magnus Became Partner

A/N: another day in the windverse -this time with @saibug1022's blorbo, magnus bishop standing front and center. i've loved learning everything there is to know about this character and hope yall will enjoy reading their story as well 🖤 @choicesficwriterscreations

Characters: OC: Magnus Bishop (he/him), OC: Wind Velez (she/he/they), Gabe Ricci

Summary: Thea Vaughn became a household name after coming forward with allegations against her former boss, none other than Senator Austin Morris. Magnus Bishop, a head-strong, underappreciated junior associate at Jensen Legal, goes against the firm's wishes to take on her case.

Warning(s): Language

Word Count: 3.4K

read below the cut or...

AO3 link

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Jensen Legal; Cincinnati, Ohio

“Angus, could you be a dear and take these files over to Debbie in finance?” 

Magnus groaned inwardly, barely suppressing an eyeroll that ached to be unleashed. Three years as an associate, yet no one remembered his name nor had the decency to delegate menial tasks like this to one of the many paralegals on staff. He took a quick breath, unclenching his fists hidden underneath his desk before taking the folders with a sickly sweet smile. “Sure thing, Magnet.” 

“Uh, it’s Margret, actually.” 

Magnus gasped, feigning shock. “Oh, my mistake. I’ll make sure to remember that for next time.” He didn’t spare her a single glance as he marched her precious files over to Debbie in fucking finance. Yet another piss-poor, sunshine-y day in Cincinnati. 

There was no doubt in his mind that he’d be swimming in cash if he got a dollar for every time he wanted to set fire to the firm. His restraint was tied exclusively to needing to make rent, not for any supposed comradery the firm’s slogan encouraged to promote. ‘Jensen Legal, where family is our priority.’ Such a priority that the founder’s son was named partner after only six months on the job. Richard Jensen, or as Magnus liked to call him, a fucking dick. 

The walk to the financial wing was short-lived, leaving only the mundane walk back to his office. A few secretaries he recognized sent him a small wave, occupied with fielding an endless stream of phone calls for their supervisors. Even if no one bothered to know his name, it was impossible for Magnus to walk the halls unnoticed. Standing at an impressive 6’4,” he easily towered over the majority of his coworkers. Warm, dark skin clashed with an endless sea of white, cold and unforgiving. Seen, but still very much alone. 

Loud chatter filtered from the break-room, stealing his attention away from his trek. “Turn it up, Craig. I can’t hear anything,” a shrill voice complained.  

“I’m trying! This damn remote– oh, I think I got it. Here-”

Magnus stood at the back of the crowd, eyes glued to the flat-screen television mounted high on the wall. ‘SOON TO SPEAK: SENATOR AUSTIN MORRIS’ lined the bottom of the broadcast with a reporter at the scene. 

“Yes- we’ve just received word that Senator Morris is scheduled to hold a press conference to address recent allegations of sexual misconduct made by Thea Vaughn. Ms. Vaughn is known to have worked for-” 

Even with his hearing aids, Magnus strained to listen to the reporter as a wave of murmurs from the room clouded his ears. 

“Do you think he actually-”

“-likely. That slut just wants-”

“-heard she got charged with a-” 

Frustrated, he pulled out his phone to search for a live stream, tapping the first link listed. The website lagged for a moment before the video began to buffer. He turned on the closed captions and watched as Senator Morris made his way to the podium. His demeanor was solemn but assured as he adjusted the mic to land right at his chin. 

“Good afternoon, Cincinnati. I stand before you today not as an elected official but as a father to two incredible children. Husband to my beautiful wife, Alison. And son to Jane and Peter Morris.”

Big fucking whoop, Magnus scoffed to himself. He watched the tell-all interview with Thea Vaughn. Anyone with a functioning brain could see that she was the wronged party. If not through her words, then from the hint of terror that marked her dusty blue eyes as she retold her story. Though perhaps it was too generous to assume such intelligence from his peers. 

“I’m sure many of you have read the awful headlines circulating online. Slanderous words printed right by my name. Cheater. Violent. Abusive. I’m here to set the record straight. Yes, Ms. Vaughn was a former employee of mine, but the allegations brought forth by her couldn’t be further from the truth,” Senator Morris spoke, putting emphasis on the word ‘truth.’

Loud whispers filled the air. 

“-so brave of him-”

“-must be awf-”

“-knew he couldn’t have-” 

Magnus pulled at the small ridge hooked behind his ear with the tip of his nail, shutting off his aids completely. The longer he watched the senator speak, the hotter his blood ran. Austin Morris, ever the devout Christian, quoted the Bible to turn Thea’s allegations on their head. 

“Love thy neighbor- and that’s what I did, folks. I opened my doors to a troubled woman. Shared a meal with her at the same table along with my wife and kids. But generosity can only go so far when dealing with someone struggling with addiction-”

Magnus’ expression crumpled with disdain. Addiction? She was charged with illegal possession of marijuana at sixteen, not found shooting up heroin in an alley.

“-my own personal funds, I am happy to donate $10,000 to rehabilitation centers located all throughout the state. I hope this money will aid those in a way I failed to do so with Thea. May she one day be guided back to the light.”

“Jesus Christ,” Magnus scoffed at his blatant display of gaslighting. Enough giving this waste of air his time, he had work to do. Shutting off his phone, he peeled out of the breakroom, ready to bury his frustrations in paperwork. 

—

A week passed since Austin Morris’ media junket finally came to a close. Everywhere Magnus looked, that prick was there, flashing his pearly veneers to the nation with shallow charitable gestures that surely cost him less than the price of one of his luxury Italian sports cars. The masses ate it up like candy. Senator Morris’ reputation was not only repaired, but improved. The latest polls showed a 35% increase in his approval rating. Thea Vaughn, however, was a different story.

Her interviews had been reduced to crude memes- the most popular one being a gif of her breaking down mid-interview with the hashtag ‘fake bitch’ on the bottom. Any sympathy shown online towards her was effectively silenced by an army of Morris’ fiercest supporters.

Raindrops clung to the window panes, remnants of the harsh downpour that recently settled into a light drizzle. But inside, a different storm brewed. One that involved an extra box of discovery and task sheet not meant for him, but his acting supervisor: Richard (Dick) Jensen.

“Make sure you file that subpoena by 4PM. Dad’s gonna chew me out if this shit gets delayed again.”

“Go file it yourself. My shift ends in twenty minutes,” Magnus said flatly, pushing the file back towards him. 

“Says who?”

“My schedule after you approved my early leave three weeks ago. I’ve got an appointment.” 

“Reschedule it. We’re understaffed today,” Richard explained, barely glancing up from his phone- too preoccupied with whoever he’s texting on the other line. 

“Bullshit. No one called for any temps today.”

Richard’s brow arched up. “And how do you know that? Actually- don’t answer. I’ve got a client to schmooze over beers at Jimmy’s, so get to- ah shit, not again.”

“What is it?”

“This Vaughn chick sent another request for a consultation.”

Magnus perked up slightly at the name. “Thea Vaughn?” 

“Who else?” Richard answered rudely, as if it was that obvious. Magnus brushed aside his tone, too curious about Thea’s meeting to care. 

“You met with her already? What’d you say?”

“What every other firm in the city has- her case is not worth taking.”

A flash of anger tore through Magnus. “Why the hell not?” 

“Because we’re not looking to foot the bill for some petty charity case that’s already on the losing side. Austin Morris has the media in his back pocket and the resources to bury anyone who touches him in a mountain of legal fees. Anyone with eyes can see that.” 

“Anyone with eyes can see that Morris is full of shit,” Magnus spat back. 

“He could be buried in it for all I care. Look, I don’t have time to listen to you preach on your soapbox. Just send Vaughn back out the door when she arrives. And file that subpoena,” Richard ordered, already walking towards the elevators. 

“Dick,” he swore under his breath, begrudgingly picking up the phone to move his appointment. He checked his schedule pinned on the wall. Friday the 23rd was marked as his day off. Hopefully Dr. Miller could see him then. 

He was halfway through Richard’s to-do list when the light mounted on his desk flashed red, a signal that someone was at his door. He glanced up from his work and saw Tina, one of Jensen Legal’s secretaries. She was on the older side. Mid 50s if Magnus had to guess. Streaks of gray poked through her auburn hair, smile lines creased the pale skin on her face, and she always wore the most ridiculous neon green jumpers. Out of everyone at the firm, Magnus tolerated her the most. “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Bishop.” 

“It’s alright, Tina. What is it?” 

“Thea Vaughn is in the lobby waiting for her consultation with Mr. Jensen. I already told her he’d be out of the office for the rest of the day, but she’s refusing-”

“Send her in,” Magnus interrupted her spiel. There was a rare opportunity right in front of him and he’d be damned if he let it slip through the cracks. Was it reckless? Definitely. Did he care? Not one bit.  

Tina’s eyes widened slightly. “But I was given explicit instructions by-”

“Di- I mean- Richard told me the same thing, Tina. Don’t worry, I’m just gonna make it easier for her to want to leave by entertaining a meeting,” he reassured, hoping she couldn’t sense the double meaning in his words. Fuck what Dick wanted. Magnus would do anything if it meant he got to stick it to that pompous, holier than thou politician.

“Alright… I’ll send her over to you shortly.” 

“Thank you.”

Not five minutes passed before his door opened once more, this time with Thea Vaughn at his doorstep. Seeing her in person as opposed to on the television or online forums was surreal. Magnus thought that after weeks of ridicule her demeanor would be meek, but she proved to be anything but.

“So I guess they pushed me over to you. Who are you, one of Jensen’s paralegals?” 

“Junior Associate,” Magnus corrected, brushing off her snide comment. Unlike Dick, she had a legitimate reason to be scorned. “Please have a seat, Ms. Vaughn.”

“Ooh, manners,” she praised mockingly, sliding into the seat across from his desk. With her this close, Magnus took note of the flecks of gray that swam in her eyes like tiny storm clouds. “Is this the part where you tell me to take my business elsewhere?” 

��No, it’s not. I want to take your case.”

Thea straightened in her seat, clearly surprised by his answer. “Wait- really? You’re not messing with me?”

“I want to see Morris behind bars just as much as you, Ms. Vaughn.” 

“Thea,” she said, more at ease than she had been when she first entered the room. “I’m sorry for being a bitch. After the sixth suit laughed me out of their office, I stopped trying to be nice.” 

“Believe me, I understand the urge. More than half of those idiots outside drive me up the fucking wall on a daily basis.” 

She snorted. “How do you cope?” 

“Reluctantly.”

“That’s fair. So, how does this whole thing go? Will you be working with Mr. Jensen?”

Magnus sucked in a breath, trying to find the right way to phrase his clear violation of Dick’s wishes. “Mr. Jensen has… delegated anything regarding your case to me. So, you’ll mainly be interacting with me throughout this process,” he answered. It wasn’t a lie. He did want Magnus to take care of it.  

“Oh- okay. Um, I’m sure he already told you that I can’t-” 

“He did. I can offer my services pro bono. You won’t have to pay anything.”

Thea let out an astonished laugh, Magnus’ words grounding her in the present. “Wow. This is… wow.”

"Haven’t heard those words from anyone else, huh?” 

“No, I haven’t,” she confirmed. “Thank you, uh-”

“Magnus.” He reached out to offer his hand.

“Thank you, Magnus. Really.” Her hand was small in his, but felt just as strong. As if a new surge of life had entered her veins. 

“Thank me after I win your case. Also- when you walk out of here, act pissed.”

Thea’s brows furrowed. “Why do I need to do that?” 

“There are certain people who know how this meeting was supposed to turn out. We need to keep up appearances,” he explained, side-stepping from the full truth of the matter. But Thea caught on to the reality of the situation.

“You were supposed to say no to me.” Her words were not accusatory, only looking to confirm what she already knew.  

“I was told to escort you out of the building, which I intend to do,” Magnus stated, rising from his seat. “You can either take your chances with me or go try to find another lawyer who is willing to give you the time of day.” 

There was a moment of silence shared between them- a beat where they each bore into the other, searching for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, Thea nodded. “Alright then. I’m in.”

—

Keeping Thea’s caseload under wraps proved to be more of a challenge than Magnus originally anticipated. Half his energy alone was spent on finding moments throughout the day to sneak in time to pour over her files. He couldn’t pass any grunt work on anyone else- so it was him who logged in the discovery, researched for any precedent that favored his case, and dealt with the arduous process of filing for a hearing. 

It worked for all of two weeks.

Dick stormed into his office, fury etched deep into his features. If he wasn’t as royally fucked as he was in that moment, Magnus would’ve reveled in seeing the veins bulge on Dick’s forehead. “Bishop, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

“Writing memos for Stanley’s case.” His unbothered attitude only enraged Dick further.

“Cut the shit, Magnus. I know you went around my direct order and took on that bitch’s case.”

Fuck. Act calm and bluff. Magnus schooled his face into a neutral expression, raising a single accusatory eyebrow at his supervisor. “Do you have proof? Because right now all you’re doing is throwing empty accusations at my face.” 

“You want proof? Fine. Here’s your fucking proof,” Richard snarled, getting right in Magnus’ face. He met his fury head on, refusing to give Dick the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. “Pack your shit. You’re fired.”

Magnus sneered. “You can’t fire me. Only managing partners have that authority.” 

A sinister grin spread on Dick’s face as he slapped something down on his desk. “Consider me their proxy.” Magnus glanced down at the document. His bravado vanished as he read what it was. A notice of termination, effective immediately. Next to it, a fountain pen. 

“What? You really thought no one would notice an uptick in your non-billables? Franklin wanted to leave you high and dry, but dad figured if word got out of your sudden… departure, it would reflect poorly on the firm. Not that I really give a shit. Now sign your severance package and get the fuck out.” With that, Dick slammed the door behind him.

Frozen, all Magnus could do was stare at the papers in front of him. He expected to be a lot of things- angry, vindictive- but numb was certainly not on his list. Maybe his mind had canceled out the whirlwind of emotions that were flooding his system- the first stages of grief coiled so tightly around his chest he no longer felt a thing. But all the denial in the world couldn’t change what was written in the fine print. 

His body moved on its own accord. An empty box slowly filled with the few belongings he kept in office: a handful of spare batteries for his hearing aids, his coffee mugs, and a framed photo of him and older sister, Vivian. Shit. He’d probably have to move in with her and her family. Figure out how to terminate his lease early- hire movers- find a new job- 

Wait. 

It dawned on him all at once. No more getting cast aside for promotions. No more shitty coffee from the breakroom or stupid requests from Magnet. And best of all- no more Dick and his receding hairline hidden with an equally awful side-part. 

The laugh that bursted out from Magnus’ lips was borderline hysterical. Anyone watching from the outside would think he’d gone mad. No more to-do lists, no more Dick Jensen. No more listening to generic hold music, no more Dick Jensen. No more bland chicken at company potlucks, no more Dick Jensen. No more Dick Fucking Jensen! 

Magnus scrawled his signature on the dotted line, officially marking the end of his terrible time at Jensen Legal. There was an undeniable spring in his step as he walked towards the elevators. All eyes were on him, an amalgamation of confused pity and intrigue pointed his way. And he couldn’t care less. 

The first thing Magnus did was drive to Raven’s. Hours later, he walked out with twisted locs landing just past his shoulders, its tips a vibrant shade of midnight blue. It was the first time in years where he genuinely felt like himself. With that out of the way, there was only one thing left to do- find a way to stick it to Austin Morris. 

—

McGraw Byrne, one month later… 

“Thank you for your time, Niel. We’ll be in touch.” Gabe shook hands with the latest person on the list of potential hires for McGraw Byrne. He maintained a poised smile until the doors shut behind him before letting out a tired exhale. The search for new partners had gone just as well as he expected. Which meant it wasn’t going well at all. Any quality candidates were most likely snatched up months ago during the summer hiring season, leaving a less than stellar pool to choose from. 

He was skimming through yet another resume when Wind bursts through the doors, newspaper in hand. “Put that file down- I think I found just the person we’re looking for.” A black and white photo of Austin Morris leaving court took up the majority of the front page. The article below detailed the Ohio-native senator’s fall from grace after being charged on multiple counts of assault, trespassing, and solicitation. 

“Is there a lawyer with an ad listed in that paper?” 

“You’re looking at ‘em.”

Gabe stared at his colleague, dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, but how is another criminal the person we’ve been looking for?” 

“He’s not- the guy who put him behind bars is. Anyone who can take out someone as powerful as Senator Morris has to be incredibly talented,” Wind explained with barely contained excitement, practically bouncing on their heels. 

“They’re also probably backed by a powerful firm. Not someone looking for a job.” 

“See- I thought the same thing at first, but then I looked closer into all the lawyers involved in Vaughn’s case. The person she hired wasn’t associated with any law firm in any of the articles I found.” 

“So?”

“Don’t you think that's weird? Any respectable firm would be dying for this level of publicity.” 

Gabe’s eyes widened. “God, you’re right. So you’re saying-”

“Whoever did this was operating on their own? Yes, yes I am. And I think I just found him online.” Wind set their phone on the table, its screen on a LinkedIn profile. Gabe read through his credentials. 

 Magnus Bishop. 29 years old. Graduated summa cum laude from the Mortiz College of Law at Ohio State University. Work experience: junior associate at Jensen Legal. 

“We can’t take him.” 

Wind’s face dropped. “Why not? He’s perfect!” 

“He’s only worked as an associate. We need someone with more experience,” Gabe reasoned.

“Gabe- no one else we’ve seen today holds a candle to this guy. So what if he’s an associate? Sadie plucked me right out of a civil court hearing in Nebraska for citing tree law. Magnus Bishop took out a freaking senator. Tell me that doesn’t at least warrant a phone call to see if he’d be interested in coming to work for McGraw Byrne.”

Wind, always the one to root for the underdog, held an unwavering optimism in their gaze. Gabe sighed, having no choice but to yield to its intensity. “Alright, let’s give Mr. Bishop a call.”

[freckleslikestars]

A few months back we had a 20th anniversary party at work. The whole thing - venue hire, bar tab, catering, cake, decorations, live music, DJ, casino tables, magician and photo booth - cost over £10,000. And I just remember thinking at the time that that was over eight months of my rent.

It was roaring 20s themed (because who doesn't love a cliche party theme) and when the couple celebrating, three of their four kids (apparently the seventeen y.o. and her girlfriend declined their invitation) and their son's partner rocked up, an hour late, they were all in 20s garb. She and the four kids were in gorgeous outfits - flapper dresses for her and the two girls, and tuxes for their son and his enby partner. Sidenote: she'd made the youngest daughter's (14) dress and paraded the poor girl around all night to her friends, going, 'Look at this dress I made, isn't it wonderful?' and this kid looked so uncomfortable and miserable. Anyway, we have four people in elegant clothes. But what about her husband? you know those iconic striped bathing suits from the early 1900s? he was in a bad cheap costume store one of those, and the dude spent the whole evening looking humiliated, made worse only by the fact that his wife kept going 'oh I didn't even make him wear it. i mean, I did find it and order it for him, and I did suggest he wear it, but he said yes without much convincing.' also, every single guest seemed to be her friend, not his. all the gifts were for her. they were all 'my friend from uni' or 'my friend from work'. none of them were 'our friends' or 'his friend'

Anyway. They turn up an hour late and then about half an hour later the rest of their guests turn up and nobody, not one single person, is in fancy dress. and oh, my god, the hissy fit this woman threw because "does nobody read an invite anymore?" now, the thing is, someone brought an invite with them and I read it and...there was no mention of fancy dress. all it said was that it was roaring 20s themed, which I wouldn't necessarily go 'oh that means I should dress up'.

but her yelling at all of her friends - people who'd traveled quite a way to be there, and had bought expensive gifts for her - was not the worst thing, no, it just gives you a good idea of this woman's personality. That prize goes to the temper tantrum she had at about half eleven. Now, it's important to know that the latest you can book my workplace is midnight. we're in a residential area so our liquor and music licenses only go to midnight - we can apply for three extensions a year if need be, but we have to also get permission from our landlord, which he won't give. and this is stated clearly in the contract you sign if you hire the venue. so it gets to half eleven and the band pass over to the DJ to round the night out and she starts kicking off. Because, remember how I said they turned up an hour late? somehow she decided that because they'd arrived an hour late, they deserved to stay an hour late. which...is not how it works.

So she's standing there in the middle of the room yelling at my boss because 'well I've paid for five hours so I have the right to five hours' which...she got five hours, it's just that she wasn't there for the first hour - which isn't our fault. So she then starts trying to bargain with us. Says 'I'll pay your staff and another hour of venue hire if you stay open for another hour'

this is impractical for many reasons. the biggest being that our licence would have run out, so she could in theory stay, but she couldn't have alcohol or music. nor, I believe, could the casino tables have been used, though I can't quite remember on that one. obviously, she didn't want that. she wanted alcohol and she wanted music and she'd pay the fine if we were caught for exceeding our license.

now, that's where we all kind of laughed our heads off, because the penalty, depending on various factors, for selling alcohol out of licensed hours, can be up to six months in prison and/or a fine of up to £20,000. twenty thousand pounds. I mean, that's...about two years of my wages. And at that she kind of blanches and goes 'oh, well, obviously, we'd split the fine 50/50' ma'am... no. and when we go...mmmm, no, if you were to somehow make us stay open, you would be paying the full find, love, she kicks off again, because 'well, it would hardly be my fault if you got caught breaking the law.'

like it was genuinely the most cyclical but also grossly wealthy-person argument. but also I think a lot of people at the party kind of realised just how out of touch this woman, their supposed friend, was with reality, given how poorly she'd treated them, the staff, and her family, throughout the night.

You really don’t realize how disconnected from reality rich people are until you have to work for them bro, like I just had a woman start crying because I told her that the leather recliners she wants to order would take 2 weeks to ship and she goes “We just finished our custom home theater room and I have a get together this weekend and I have kitchen chairs in there. do you have any idea what thats like?” HELLO????

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 3

Here is the next chapter! Yay! 

Words:5500

Warnings: mild swearing, possessive Ivar (maybe?), mild sexual tension, hint of violence

Series Masterlist

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius​

"Korítsi, one of these days I'll convince you to take a day off." (Greek: girl)

 Kari smiled as she re-tied her ponytail. Glancing over at her boss, she replied. "You would miss me too much. Besides you know I like working here."

 The woman shook her head. "You need a life outside of working- friends, a lover, anything besides this studio."

 "You just like listening to drama."

 "I'm happily married with my dream job; I need you ladies and your drama to keep me entertained. 

 Kari could only laugh along with her boss. Lydia Hansen was the best boss she could ever have asked for. The woman was in her mid-thirties, settled in life and always happy with a smile on her face and a kind word to share. She also had a mischievous side where she loved listening to the drama of her female workers, many coming to her for romantic advice or to vent about relationships. 

 Lydia leaned forward in her chair, putting an elbow on the desk beside her as she watched Kari. Even under the fluorescent lights, Kari thought the woman looked beautiful with her naturally tanned skin, short black hair and strong Mediterranean features. Kari could not help feeling like a used ragdoll next to her. 

"Why don't you come in at nine tomorrow morning, I can open the studio."

 Kari turned around after grabbing her purse from her locker. "Tonight is date night for you and Nels, which means several glasses of wine and you naked in your bed. If your stories are to be believed. So I'm guessing you don't want to be here at six-thirty tomorrow morning. Really, it's fine. I don't mind opening. I do it often enough."

 "And that's the problem. You've opened the majority of the time the past two weeks."

 "It's only until Sasha comes back from her family's funeral." Kari reminded her. 

 "Fine." Lydia huffed, then pointed a finger at her. "Then you're taking time off. I'll bar you from coming to work if you try to sneak in."

 "What if I want to come for classes?"

 "No. I'll kick you out of my studio. Do your yoga at home. By the skies above, you are a yoga instructor yourself. Just pretend to be teaching but alone….and at home!"

 The brunette smiled at her boss, knowing all of this was because Lydia actually cared for her employees. Both their physical and mental health. "No promises. Tell Nels 'hi' for me. See you tomorrow."

 "Go do something fun for once!" 

 Kari walked out of the office, chuckling. She waved to a coworker as she passed the front entrance before stepping outside into the late afternoon sun. Checking the time on her phone, she tossed it into her teal hobo bag and slung it over her shoulder, making her way towards the bus stop. In her black leggings, sneakers and purple racerback tank top with Whole Wellness Yoga Studio printed on the front, she could not help but feel slightly out of place as she walked the streets. Though no one gave her a second glance, she always felt like a fraud as she passed others by. The location of the yoga studio she worked at was certainly in the more affluent part of the city, and it showed by the manner of businesses in proximity and the looks and clothing of those who passed her by. 

 At one time she had worn expensive clothing, never paying attention to price tags, but those days were in the past. Although she adored working at the yoga studio, it barely made ends meet. Lydia mentioned once promoting her in the future to a manager, which came as a surprise since Kari had only been working there for just over a year. For now though, she was content with life. Happier than she had been in a long time. Even if her life seemed boring to others, only focusing on work and what the next book or TV series to enjoy was. It was her life, her choices. 

 For a brief second, she paused in her walk, thinking she had heard someone call her name. Which was highly unlikely since, truthfully, she hardly knew anyone in this city. With a mental shrug, she continued on, enjoying the feeling of the sunshine on her exposed skin. 

 "Kari Larsen! Don't you ignore me!" 

 The sudden scream made the brunette freeze in place, stunned and slightly terrified. Hesitantly, she turned, scanning around to see who had yelled for her attention. Luckily, it did not take long to notice the tall, blonde wearing the thigh-high boots and white, boho dress waving like a mad woman as she leaned over the short half-railing, separating the sidewalk and the restaurant's seating. 

 Smiling, Kari made her way back towards the woman, who beamed at her. "Gyda! When did you get back?"

 "Just yesterday. I know I say this every time but jetlag is a bitch." Gyda sighed dramatically, though her eyes twinkled in mirth. Leaning against the half-railing, she towered over Kari. On a good day, she stood just under six feet but with the short-heeled boots today, she peered down like a goddess from Valhalla surveying the lesser mortals. 

 "I don't know how you do it." Kari shook her head, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. 

 "Eh, you make it work." Gyda turned and peeked over her shoulder for a second before looking back at Kari. "What are you doing? Just get off work?"

 "Yeah. Heading home."

 "Do you want a ride?" She offered, tapping a finger along the railing. 

 Kari could feel the stares of the other patrons sitting outside and the wait staff, most likely wondering why someone like her was conversing with Gyda. Awkwardly, she toyed with her trusty diamond stud in her earlobe. "Not this time, but thank you. I'm sure you want to get back to your friends." 

 "It's just some of my many siblings and Torvi."

 "Oh, you'll have to tell her I said 'hi'."

 Gyda was a regular at the yoga studio when her schedule allowed. As a freelance writer, her schedule was chaotic at the best for time. Lately most of her works had been commissioned for traveling magazines, so her time coming to the studio was sporadic based on when she was in the country. It was through the studio that Gyda and Kari met. They would occasionally exchange pleasantries before or after Kari's class or in passing. Their friendship solidified only after Gyda found Kari standing at the bus stop in the cold rain months ago and offered to give her a ride home. They had met up a handful of times so Kari could hear all about the latest places Gyda visited and see the pictures she took, satisfying her own travel-wandering soul, sealing their friendship. 

 And through Gyda, Kari met Torvi. Though both women were at least ten years her senior, she enjoyed their presence and conversations. Torvi only came occasionally with Gyda as her guest to the yoga studio. At first, Kari was surprised when she learned they were sisters-in-law because of how close they seemed. Yet she found it refreshing, since most of her experience with family was tense to say the least. It was nice to know her own family's tendencies were not the norm. 

 "I will." The blonde exclaimed, her smile widening. "Oh! Do you want to meet Bjorn? I know you've heard Torvi and I talk about him enough that it's funny you haven't met him yet."

 "Oh, I'd hate to interrupt…."

 "Shut up. You're meeting him. Come on, I'll let you in through the main door, meet me over there." Then she spun on her heel and sashayed away, garnering a few lingering looks from nearby patrons. 

 If there was one thing Kari learned over the past several months of knowing Gyda, it was that the woman was head-strong and always got her way. So with an amused roll of her eyes, Kari headed around the restaurant to its main entrance just off the side of the busy sidewalk. The restaurant screamed money and prestige, something Kari learned both Gyda and Torvi had in spades. It was unnerving at first but their welcoming and kind presences help alleviate Kari's fears of being viewed as less. 

 Sure enough, Gyda stood waiting for her by the door. Chatting like a bird, she slipped her arm through Kari's and led her past the shocked waitstaff. The restaurant was even more impressive inside than how it appeared from the street. It was modern with a sharp black and white color scheme, tasteful and exquisite photos on the walls, and dark wood tables and chairs. Kari figured the price of a meal here was similar in cost to her monthly rent. 

 Gyda led her to a table that was outside in the sun, but partitioned from the street by the half-wall railing she had leaned over earlier to get Kari's attention. The brunette quickly counted five people already sitting there, apparently carrying on a lively conversation if the laughter meant anything. Before she could get a good look, Gyda directed her towards Torvi who reclined next to a man with an imposing physique and a long, blond, braided ponytail in a smart suit. 

 "Kari, this is my brother and Torvi's husband, Bjorn."

 "It's a pleasure to meet you." Kari smiled politely, taking his outstretched hand in a handshake. 

 "Likewise. So, you are the famous yoga instructor these two go on about?" He asked, with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. "I must confess, I find yoga a peculiar activity but with it helping Torvi's flexibility while we…."

 Torvi smacked his shoulder, making the men around the table laugh. "Ignore him, Kari. I don't know why I bring him out in public."

 "Hey!" He pulled her closer and planted a loud kiss on her cheek. "You love me."

 "Mmm…. most days."

 At that point, Kari looked up to peek at the others sitting at the table, ready to greet and then head out. Except the first thing she saw was a pair of stunning blue eyes that captured her gaze. Unable to move or look away, as if he was physically restraining her with only his gaze, her heart soared and stomach dropped simultaneously. 

 It was only when Gyda started to introduce the others at the table that she ripped her gaze from his, all the while feeling his eyes never leaving her. 

 "Let me introduce these other assholes quick. At the head of the table is Uncle Floki, and the two idiots across from us are Bjorn and my half-brothers, Hvitserk and Ivar."

 Hvitserk greeted her with a flirty smile on his boyish face; while the strange-looking man, Floki, just gave a single nod in acknowledgement.  

 "We've already met," Ivar said with a wicked smirk, letting his eyes blatantly trail over her form while he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, "isn't that right, kitten?"

 Kari hated how just from the sound of the pet name, her heart beat increased traitorously and a flush rose to her cheeks. It brought to mind how his hands gripped her hips, caging her to him, how his lips and tongue caressed her skin, the peak of pleasure that crashed over her without warning...and about all the ice cubes and make up she had to use to get conceal the marks and hickeys he decorated her skin with. "Um, yeah, sort of. I…. I didn't catch your name though."

 "It's alright. I can't blame you as we were otherwise…. preoccupied." The blue-eyed devil teased, either uncaring or not noticing the inquisitive looks from the others at the table. It was unfair how striking he looked in a simple black t-shirt, showcasing his broad shoulders and muscular arms that were award-worthy. 

 Mortification was the best description of emotion causing Kari to further flush but also avert her gaze to the food-laden table. For some reason she figured the likelihood of her ever meeting Ivar again was slim to none. Clearly they ran in different social circles and really they had no reason to bump into one another. Apparently universe, fate, whatever decided her life was going too well and decided to throw a curveball at her. Then to make matters worse, here he sat arrogantly and alluding to what occurred between them in front of his family. 

 It had not gone unnoticed by her that Gyda mentioned Ivar was her half-brother, making her a Lothbrok too, even if she did not go by that last name. 

 Kari peered around the table, a polite smile on her face in a poor attempt to mask any further revealing thoughts. "Well, it was lovely to meet you all but I need to be going." 

 "You sure you don't want a ride?" Gyda kindly offered again, already reaching over to grab her own purse. "It's not a problem." 

 "No, stay. The bus should be here in a couple minutes. Your food is getting cold."

 Gyda opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to reconsider and instead gave her a quick embrace. "Ok, I'll stop by the studio this week and we can catch up."

 "I'll hold you to that." Kari returned the hug; her body tingled as if bugs crawled all over skin making her want to flee the restaurant even faster. With a hurried "goodbye" to everyone else, trying to avoid Ivar's penetrating gaze, she headed out of the restaurant. With the looks she received from the waitstaff and patrons, she quickened her pace, feeling like an intruder in the lavish establishment. 

 Soon as she stepped outside, back onto the busy sidewalk and warm sun, she inhaled a deep breath. A part of her felt awful for how quickly she ditched Gyda, who had only ever been kind to her. Truthfully, she had wanted to meet Bjorn because of the stories both Gyda and Torvi shared. 

 All of that had been eclipsed by the sight of the man she had made-out with over a week ago in that dark club…. Ivar Lothbrok.  

 Never aloud would she admit how often she thought about him since their encounter. Yet she knew it was best to stay away from him, ever if a part of her fought the notion. It would be safer, for both of them. 

 Now suddenly coming face-to-face with him, her emotions warred within her as to how she should feel. 

 Her feet hurried along the sidewalk, worried she would miss her bus because of her detour in the restaurant….and maybe a piece of her needed to put distance between herself and the handsome, cocky man that plagued her thoughts. At the crosswalk, she practically bounced on her toes, willing the light to change color faster. Her mind whirled with the new information of Gyda's relations. Could they still be friends? It also answered her unspoken question of where the wealth came from that Gyda and Torvi were accustomed too. The Lothbroks may not be a household name but it was certainly known in the business world, especially since the many sons had stepped up and expanded its empire. 

 Without warning, a firm hand grabbed her upper arm, whipping her around. A shriek stuck on the tip of her tongue at the unexpected action. She turned to be greeted by a stunned pair of eyes and open mouth. 

 "Oh, I'm so sorry, I thought you were someone else." The flustered man said, retracting his hand from her and rubbing his beard with it self-consciously. "No wonder you didn't answer when I called…. I thought you were ignoring me. Are you OK? I'm so sorry again. "

 She placed a hand over her chest, heart hammering almost painfully. The man appeared so concerned about scaring her, it was endearing. "It's fine. You just startled me, I guess I was thinking too hard."

 He shuffled his feet for a moment, looking down at them before looking up again. "I'm Daniel, by the way."

 "Kari."

 "You headed, ah, to the bus stop too?"

 A genuine smile touched her lips as he sided up next to her amongst the crowd of others waiting to cross the street. "Yeah, actually. Just got off work."

 "Hey! What a coincidence. I plan on going home, eating whatever is in my fridge that doesn't have mold on it yet and sitting on the couch watching TV for at least the next three hours."

 "That sounds amazing. I may have to steal that idea."

 He turned to face her, placing his hand on her shoulder, and stared at her in mock seriousness that made her giggle. "I give you full permission, no need for thievery. And don't eat something healthy, it's a perfect night for gluttony."

 Before she could respond with her own quip, someone grabbed Daniel from behind, throwing him to the ground. Bystanders barely made it out of the way as Daniel just caught himself on his hands and knees. 

 "GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER!"

 Kari stared in horror as Ivar loomed over Daniel, fists clenched and eyes blazing. Everyone nearby drew back, creating a wide circle and warily watching the fight that was threatening to happen. 

 "Ivar, stop!" Kari tried to move between the two men but he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back behind him effortlessly. 

 Daniel hesitantly got up, scraped hands held up in surrender. "Sorry, man. I swear I wasn't trying to make a pass on your girl. Just making conversation."

 "Sure. Now fuck off and don't let me fucking see you around her again." He seethed; the words spat out from between clenched teeth. 

 Eyeing Ivar as if he expected the man to suddenly attack him again, Daniel started walking away in the opposite direction, casting occasional glances over his shoulder. 

 At this point the light for the crosswalk turned green and those bystanders waiting began to move, all the while still leaving a wide berth around Ivar and Kari. Though she tried to ignore them, she could not help but catch a few looks of concern and pity directed towards her. 

 Pulling away from the arm still around her waist, Kari made to cross the street when Ivar grabbed her wrist. 

 "Where are you going?" He demanded, lingering fury coloring his tone.

 "My bus is just up there. I need to go or I'll miss it."

 "No, I'm giving you a ride home."

 "What? No, I don't need…. I told Gyda it's fine."

 He scoffed, relinquishing his hold on her wrist. "I'm not doing this for Gyda, now come on."

 "No, really, I…."

 "It wasn't a suggestion."

 Equal parts dumbfounded and angry, she looked back up the street only to see the doors of the bus closing. She closed her eyes for a second, begging for patience and understanding. What she really wanted to do was ignore Ivar and walk away, find somewhere to wait for the next bus. But if Ivar had followed her from the restaurant and was now demanding he give her a ride home, she figured he would not be beyond dragging her over to his car, or whatever he rode in, and continuing to make a scene. It made no sense why he would follow her to offer a ride or attack a random man. She wondered if this was the Ivar Lothbrok that her friends warned her about. 

 Deep down, she found herself still wanting to be around him again. To see if the man she met at the club was the real him or just a mask…. plus, she hated to wait for the next bus. There was a creepy lady that liked to sit next to her and tell her about the latest escapades of her many gerbils or the newest “friend” her adult son brought home for the night. 

 "Fine." She stated, turning back to him. 

 "Good girl. This way."

 Silently, she followed him back towards the restaurant and down the next street to a luxury Mercedes car. In her mind, she decided that just because she was getting a ride from him did not mean she had to be friendly. Her plan was to ignore him and stare out the window. Hopefully that was enough of a hint to leave her alone. He was the one who chased her down to give her a ride. His infuriating actions may have spurred her pettiness to supersede the wisdom of ignoring him, especially knowing he was a Lothbrok. 

 The driver held the door open for both of them to slide in. The bench seat was spacious with a detailed leather interior and that unique new card smell. Another time, Kari may have loved to ride around in a vehicle like this, pretending to be a celebrity or someone important. Now she just wanted to get home. Even if that traitorous part silently ogled him, an arm’s length away from her. 

 "Where to, sir?" The driver asked once he took his seat in the front. 

 Then with an arrogant smirk, Ivar rattled off Kari's address. 

 Kari's plans to ignore him flew out the window. She stared open-mouthed as he leaned back in the seat, brace-covered legs spread out obnoxiously. The first real trickle of fear since meeting him danced up her spine. 

 "How? I mean…. are you…. stalking me?"

 He laughed, cocking his head to the side, to eye her lazily. "You're harder to track down than most people. No social media really. Pay most things with cash. It's like you're trying to hide something."

 She gulped, the revelation he could find out all that about her so easily was unnerving. But his last statement hit a little too close to the truth to bring her comfort. 

 "But it wasn't too difficult." He added brazenly, apparently ignorant of the anxiety his prior statement caused. "And now I found you." 

 "Why? I mean… why were you looking for me?"

 He stared at her, those predatory eyes prying into her soul. She shifted awkwardly, wishing to be free from his gaze but unable to tear herself away on her own accord. Caught in his trap, his web, all she could hope for was mercy. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted down to view his lips, the memory of them against hers at the forefront of her mind…. even more than the anxiety still skating on her nerves. 

 In an instant, he reached over and hauled her across the bench seat and into his lap. A squeak flew from her as she abruptly found herself sitting sideways on his legs. 

 As her mind raced to figure out what to do, and honestly how to feel about this, his lips descended on hers and all prior thoughts vanished. His tongue invaded her mouth, forcing hers to comply, demanding attention. Without hesitation, she gave in. Her hands traced his sideburns and the braids on the top of his head. No matter how many times she tried to forget his touch, his kisses, it haunted her. Now having his lips on hers once again, she found even her memories were incomparable to the actual feel, of his lips, his hands, his breath, his body, his scent. It all drew her in like a beacon, directing her to her greatest desire and darkest temptation. 

 "All I can think about is you." He murmured, his tongue tracing her bottom lip. "Fuck…. how good you taste, how good you feel…. I could barely focus on work."

 "Ivar…" she moaned, feeling herself melting under his touch. As he pressed kisses along her jawline, a quiver ran through her but instead of feeling ashamed like before, she tilted her head to expose more of her neck. Normally so reserved with physical touch, for some unexplainable reason, she felt safe enough to embrace her wanton side with him. Somehow, she knew he would not make fun of her actions. Perhaps it was because of his reaction when finding out her virginal status. All she knew was his touch, his very presence, drew forth a side of her previously unknown while making her feel safe. 

 His hands gripped her with an almost possessive hold. "Gods, I want you." He groaned against her pulse point, the sound wicked with the sheer desire infused in it. 

 And for some reason, those three words broke the spell holding her hostage to him. 

 She froze. Slowly she leaned back to stare at him. The truth, the confession, tasted like poison on the tip of her tongue. 

 "I…. I can't." She whispered, hating how weak her voice sounded. 

 "What are you talking about?"

 "I won't…. I'm not having sex with you."

 What lust and tenderness towards her vanished in the blink of an eye. His hands that had been caressing, now gripped painfully. Eyes that beheld her as a goddess, now threatened to cut her without remorse. The very air between them threatened to catch fire with a single spark due to the tension. 

 "Why not? Cause I'm a cripple?" He snarled at her like an enraged animal. "You'll kiss me and let me get you off but you won't fuck me? Or did your friends tell you who I am? Is that it? Now that you know who I am, you're going to run away?"

 "No, it's not… no, I don't think I'm the kind of girl you'd want." Tears welled in her eyes, both from fear and the physical pain he was causing with his forceful grip. 

 "And what the fuck does that mean? You know me so well, huh?"

 That poisonous truth dripped off her tongue once again. How could she tell him that if he truly knew who she was, he would reject her? It was not even a question but a fact. It was better for both of them to stay away, to never see one another again. How twisted was her truth, how deceptive was she in the face of a man known for his violence. Even as her innermost being begged to let go of her past self and embrace this…. embrace him.  

 "I'm nobody. I'm boring. I don't have money or influence. I just am…. You'd get tired of me in like two days." She took a steadying breath, her hands fiddling in her lap as to avoid his piercing gaze. The lilac color on her nails was starting to chip at the edges, redirecting her attention for a brief second. Even if all she wanted to do was run, avoid this conversation like the plague, she knew in a way, she owed him the truth. Her next words came out in a rush, otherwise she knew they would never pass her lips. "And I don't want to have sex until I'm ready and with someone who cares about me."

 She wondered if this was the spark to set him off. How quickly he would reject her, push her off his lap, laugh in her face for her orthodox ideal, call her frigid like others before. Mentally, she prepared for it, even if every time the words were still a dagger to her heart. This time would be no different. 

 What she did not expect was after almost a minute of painful silence, for him to gently grip her chin and turn her head to face him once again. 

 "Go on a date with me."

 She balked. "What?"

 He stroked her cheek, his hand that had been gripping her thigh, most likely leaving vivid bruises, now created soothing circles. It was his voice that shocked her the most. What had been harsh and unrelenting in cruelty now was soft and gentle. "Let me take you out. I'll even follow your damn rule of no sex. Though I know you want me just as much."

 "Ivar…."

 "You can't deny it." He taunted, with a devilish grin, "You like the idea of me touching you, bringing you pleasure, showing you what you've been missing with my fingers," teasingly, he glided his fingers along her inner thigh, close to her core, "and my tongue," he licked the shell of her ear before whispering the next part, "and my cock. Tell me you haven't thought about it."

 Her breath hitched with each movement of his, his filthy words making her wet without her conscious approval and the cocky bastard knew it. "I…. please stop…." She tried to plead, only to make him laugh. 

 "Stop lying to both of us."

 "Please, don't do this. I just can't."

 "Why not?" Jaw tense, he regarded her with a look of pure hunger but also exasperation. "Give me a damn good reason."

 "It's better if we don't."

 He leaned back fully in his seat as if examining her. That devious and deadly gaze pinned her, reading her very thoughts and secrets. Beneath it she felt vulnerable and naked, something she detested. She tried to squirm out of his lap, to put necessary distance between them. His hands only tightened on her, keeping her restrained in his lap. 

 "It's not…" he started then stopped to lick his lips. And there it was, a glimpse behind the mask, that vulnerability she caught a peek of when they were at the club, "...because I'm a cripple?"

 "What? No, not at all. That doesn't…. no, you're beautiful." Soon as the last word left her mouth, her absolute shock at his question morphed into humiliation. Both of her hands flew up to cover her face, burning with embarrassment.

 "Beautiful, huh?"

 "Shut up."

 He chuckled, running his nose along the column of her neck and sending a shiver down her spine. "And you still won't go on a date with me?"

 Cautiously, she eased her hands from her face to meet his amused gaze. "I'm sorry." She replied with a shake of her head. 

 He eyed her as if trying to suss out more of her secrets, head tilted to the side and eyebrows furrowed slightly. After a long moment, he smirked. "Alright. We'll see about that."

 "What?"

 "You heard me. You'll change your mind eventually. I can be very persistent with something I want."

 With a push of a button on a nearby console, loud music filled the air but he did not release her. Instead, he continued to stroke her back or legs as he gazed out the window. Every time she tried to squirm out of lap, he would tighten his grip on her hip or thigh, silently demanding she remain. Finally, she gave up and relaxed against him, enjoying his soothing touches and the warmth of his body. 

 Ivar Lothbrok was the most complicated man she had ever met. Just in the past hour, she witnessed him go from cocky to murderous to sensual and now dare she even say…. charming. It baffled her that he purposefully sought her out, even if it was stalker-ish. That he wanted to go on a date with her, knowing she would not put out at the end for him. Her image of him and the one painted by her friends were so vastly different…. she wondered which one to believe. Not that it truly mattered, since they would not be seeing each other after this. She could not open that door. It was better this way. 

 She was disheartened when they reached her home. The way their bodies fit perfectly together, how comforting his touch and presence was, it was unnerving and intriguing. A small part of her wished the drive was longer so they could continue remaining in this bubble of illusion. That she could soak this feeling up just a bit more, for something to hold onto when she was alone. How life could have been between them if fate was different. 

 The driver pulled up the luxury car in front of the unoccupied, short driveway. With no car there, that meant her roommate was not at the townhouse. Probably for the best, since if Alana had seen Kari getting out of a vehicle with Ivar, she would have lost her shit. 

 "Come on… tonight." He whispered into her ear, entwining their fingers, those exquisite eyes begging for her to change her mind. "Let me take you out, kitten."

 "I can't…. but we can be friends... if you want." 

 Soon as the words left her mouth, she cringed. What kind of stupid thing was that to say? She needed to stay away from him, she knew it. But seeing that last hopeful gleam in his eyes and the despair that replaced it as she told him 'no' once again…. it was too much. 

 A cocky smirk slowly spread on his lips, like he knew something that she was not privy to. He laid a kiss on the back of their entwined hands. "If you say so."

 Carefully, he helped maneuver her off his lap, and out of the vehicle, his hands grazing over her hips and thighs quickly. She turned around and raised an eyebrow, for him to only stare at her in an innocent expression. Instead of being upset, like she should have been, she just rolled her eyes and unsuccessfully tried to keep the smile off her lips. 

 "Um, thanks for the ride." 

 "Yeah. See you soon…. friend." With a teasing wink, he closed the door and a second later, the vehicle pulled away. 

 She watched the car drive away and wondered why the word 'friend' left a sour taste in her mouth. 

[narrators-journal]

Life after the fact

CW: mentions of some nasty stuff related to kids.

First part: Here

For the next few days you were a mess. Between the morning sickness and the guilt of having murdered someone, you were throwing up every bit of food or water you tried to digest, every shadow and small noise in your crappy, dirt cheap apartment at night sent you into a break down, sickened more with fear and the force of your sobs when you got overwhelmed. You never felt like you could relax, everything was nerve-wracking, and especially when you went outside. However, as the weeks passed, you got a handle on your fears. You weren't exactly okay, but you forced yourself to adjust and move on as best you could. As if the paranoia wasn't enough, you also had to deal with being pregnant on your own now. Oh god, I should've just stayed with Illumi! What the hell am I supposed to do about this whole thing?! You thought one night as you sat in your windowless bathroom, curled around the toilet, vomitting from the nerves, nausea, and violent sobbing, I wish I could just go back...apologize and just go back to the way things were. you lamented as you sucked in shakey, cold breaths that burnt your throat. It wasn't like you'd planned this far ahead, your escape attempt was a heat of the moment thing, fuelled by the fear of what might happen after you gave birth and the gut feeling that your partner would doom your child to a life akin to his own, which was definitely not a normal, healthy, or happy one. So, now you were left to suffer the last, stubborn thrashes of winter alone, in a crappy little apartment with walls so thin you could feel the last icy wind of winter when it blew, struggling with pregnancy symptoms and relentless paranoia of what will happen if or when Illumi finds you. After that night, you decided it was best to do what you could to lessen your stress, but that was easier said then done. For one, no matter the steps you took to ensure your safety, taking jobs great distances from where you live, whipping up a fake identity to use for work, limiting how often you went out, you could never fully convince yourself that you were safe from the Zoldyck family. Another thing that stopped you was your financial situation. You managed to nab a bit of cash from the car you'd stolen from the butler, using most of it on a cheap car, but, while a reasonable amount still, you still ended up taking up a job as a maid-for-hire of sorts, and usually your employers would tip you terrifically when they figured out you were pregnant, but with the gas bill, food, and the sketchy amount of rent you had to pay, you had little to nothing left to save for a better place or the baby. Finally, you realized after looking into it at one of your employer's homes during your break, that you were too far along in your pregnancy for termination, since at that point you were somewhere in your fourth month, so that left you with almost no other option than to find a way to give birth. After that, you just settled for having the child at home to avoid the paper trail a doctor's office would need and than leaving the baby at a church. They'll take the kid in and put it into foster care, which is a safer gamble than the Zoldycks. You thought, wiping the beginnings of tears from your eyes as you drove to the day's job. For the remainder of the day, you focused on your work, cleaning up toys, doing and folding laundry, making beds, the usual duties for this particular household, and did your best to not think about your past. That is, until you heard someone knock on the door while you were upstairs mopping the bathroom. The sound instantly sent ice down your spine. It felt as if the world skipped a beat in time with your heart, but at another knock, you took a deep breath and inched towards the distant door. Your heart thundered in your chest so hard that it hurt, but you picked your way down, staying away from the windows and doing your best to move stealthily with the slowly growing bump of your stomach until you could look out of the front door's peep hole. Thank the heavens it was simply your employer, a neatly dressed, glasses clad woman who you'd heard was a lawyer or CEO of some sort, not an assassin. So, just as she gave a third, more impatient knock, you opened the door,             "I'm so sorry ma'am! I couldn't move too quickly to get to the door sooner," you said, not meaning to sound near hysterics, but at least that made you sound super apologetic as the woman huffed in annoyance,             "It's fine, I just had my entire day upheaved." she said, walking in and you swiftly shut the door, not thinking much of the figure you saw standing at the roadside from the corner of your eye, she commonly had other helpers here when you were, it was likely just a gardener or someone to bring in her bags. "First, I burn myself with coffee at 6 am this morning, than I have to drive three damned hours to the airport just to find out my business trip was cancelled because the client decided to cut ties with my work! Ugh, don't get me started on tr-" The woman paused her ranting and hair adjustments suddenly, looking at you with concern and confusion on her dark-skinned face, "Are you alright, dear? Why are you crying?" Her voice was gentle, all annoyance gone when she'd realized you were upset, but it still made you jump and feel a small spark of guilt at the show of vulnerability, something you'd been fighting to repress. But your emotions had been so unpredictable recently, it only made sense that you failed.            "I-I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over me," you sniffed, scrubbing at your tears as she put a reassuring hand on your back and led you to a chair, letting you sit down,            "Don't worry about it, I just thought I was the one to upset you. Are you sure you're alright?" You nodded as she looked you over, looking so parental and compassionate, it made your heart hurt. And just like that, even more tears were falling onto your clothes as a sharp knife of loneliness cut through you. You did your best to at least slow the streams of tears, but seeing this woman you hardly knew be so motherly and understanding reminded you of your own mother, or maybe those times Kikyo had helped you through the beginnings of morning sickness or nausea. Either way, your boss' actions hit a chord and now you were trying not to bawl while she offered you tissues and talked you down from the hormonal extreme.          "I see now, must be the pregnancy talking." she laughed a little, "when I was expecting my eldest, the mood swings never really left, and just about anything would set me off. I remember one time, my husband had made me breakfast and I ended up sobbing over it for a good five minutes while he was just mortified." she said, giving you a comforting smile when you weakly laughed. Finally, when you were past the violent sobs, your boss helped you up and led you to the kitchen so you could splash some water on your face and she could get you some tea to help you relax. Once you were settled down at the table, warm cup of tea between your hands, your boss sat at the table with you and let you take a few sips before asking,           "So, do you have any plans set for the baby?" she asked, and you felt her warm eyes drawing out all of your issues. You started out pretty vague, admitting you weren't really sure of what to do, but that soon led to you going into detail about how you didn't think you'd be keeping the child and probably putting them up for adoption since you couldn't afford them. You told her that you felt so bad for the decision, but you didn't want to raise your child in poverty or worsen their quality of life in general, which your boss understood, laying her dark hand on yours soothingly as you spoke. For the next hour or so, you sat with the woman and she helped you through all of your options. You told her that the father of the child wasn't the best, so she explained good ways to limit contact and how to keep track of every instance of neglect, abuse, or anything of the sort just in case things required lawyers and courts. By the time you'd left her home for the day, you were feeling much better about your situation, and while your plans to put the baby up for adoption hadn't changed, you were much more confident in the steps to go about it. You kept that job for two or three more trips, telling your boss of your plans to stop after that. She understood perfectly and made sure your pay was doubled,           "Pretty soon you'll come up on being six months, you won't be able to do a lot in your third trimester." she pointed out after you refused to accept her money, but that wasn't the only kind thing she did for you. No, on your second to last job with her family she had basically spun you around at the door and herded you out to her car. "I understand you're trying to keep as low a profile as possible, but I can't in good conscious not have that child checked on." she told you as she drove you to a check up, patting your hand and just letting you bawl, but she refused to let you apologize for her helping. In fact, when you thought back on the drive after the appointment, she seemed somewhat sad, but you couldn't exactly place why and on the drive back you didn't want to ask and open an old wound. So, you simply didn't say anything about it and went home that night with knowledge that so far your baby seemed fine, and a tip from your boss to find some time to relax more, "Make sure to destress as best you can, it's good for your mental health and the baby." she advised, as motherly as ever. So, you decided on your drive home to give that advice a shot. At least once. So, after your last job with that family, while spring time was beginning to really settle in outside, leaving a crisp but fresh feeling night in the wake of a lukewarm day, you had borrowed a book from a neighbor and ran yourself a warm bath to hopefully relax in, even if you likely wouldn't be able to get out of it super easily when bedtime rolled around. Despite that fact, sinking into the warm water felt like heaven to your aching back, breasts, and hips. So, you relaxed in the water for a long while, two hours or so, just reading the book and occasionally putting your hand on your belly to feel the baby kick. The only thing that could've made the night better was if you had some scented candles and maybe a shoulder rub, but you were content with settling for this. All around, the night was near perfect, and that was somewhat because you refused to let your anxiety at the little creaks of your floor or the sounds of your neighbors opening their own doors in the ratty old hall destroy your good time. Eventually, you did get out of the cooled water with some work and got dressed in your comfiest clothes before going to bed, feeling rather happy and relaxed, and thus falling asleep rather quickly. That night, you had quite the weird dream. You weren't a stranger to nightmares about Illumi or the Zoldycks, but this dream was much more melancholy. At the start, it was pretty normal, a nonsensical flurry of dream-logic-fuelled, stream of consciousness, but than things got a bit easier to follow, and the dream took a turn from non-sense, to a bittersweet dream of laying in bed with Illumi again, letting him feel your belly and generally being happy with an undertone of 'something's off' to it. When you woke up the next day you were hit with a tsunami of yearning for that scenario, or any scenario that meant you got cuddled and comforted, and didn't feel so crushingly alone. For the twentieth time since the beginning of the month, you thought of returning to the Zoldyck estate, or at least making it easier for your fiance to find you, but than your common sense kicked in to stomp out that fantasy. No! If I go back my life will be more than just miserable boredom and restrictions. It'll become worse than hell! Illumi will be pissed beyond belief and will probably do something extreme to me! Your fearful inner voice had a point, Illumi had already threatened you when you'd asked to go out without him that day, he'd undoubtedly do worse to you for not only trying to run, but staying gone for so long and putting your baby under so much stress. Oh god, what would he do if I miscarry? The mere thought of his reaction was enough to settle the debate. You'd stay gone. You'd put up with the apartment that smelled of wet dogs and smoke, the paper thin walls, the exorbitant rent, you'd leave your baby at a church once they were born, and you'd go off the grid. If you could help it, you'd never go back to face Illumi and his family.

[youllneverknowrac]

Oscar Diaz-Let’s Have Another

For @jeyramarie

“You need to tell Cesar that lockdown means lockdown.” You scold Oscar as you work on your baking skills this early morning,”He can’t be sneaking out to go see Monse and his little friends. He’s gonna get fined or even worse arrested.”

“I know nena, but what do you want me to do? Put bars on his window? Va a hacer lo que quiera.” Oscar shrugs, sipping the hot coffee from his mug while sitting at the table.

“You’re his older brother, talk to him.” You suggest as you mix all the ingredients in the bowl, deciding on making a batch of brownies,”What if he catches that shit? He’s going to give it to us or to Camila. He needs to take it serious. I mean it papi, talk to him or I will.” You tell your husband seriously, meaning every word. You weren’t one to lecture Cesar but this was different. This virus was a serious thing and you’d be damed if Cesar got your almost four year old daughter sick because he wanted five minutes of pleasure.

“I will mami, just calm down.” He agrees as the sound of little feet walking down the hallway catches your attention,”Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he stays home.”

“Good morning.” A sleepy Camila says, her empty sippy cup clutched in her hand,”I’m thirsty mommy.” She yawns and sets her cup on the table before climbing onto Oscar’s lap.

“Good morning mi pedacito de cielo.” Oscar smiles and snuggles the little girl to his chest, the earlier conversation coming to a end as you wipe your hands on your apron before grabbing her cup.

“Juice or chocolate milk?” You ask her and open the fridge.

“Choccy milk!” She replies with a clap of her hands,”Thank you mommy.” She tells you after you hand her the refilled cup.

“You’re welcome.” You smile and lean down to press your lips to her little puckered ones, doing the same to Oscar next,”You want more coffee?” You ask him when you pull away.

“Yes, please.”

You nod and take his mug, making it to his liking before handing it back. Oscar making sure to be careful since the toddler was still in his arms, both of them picking apart the pan de elote that you made yesterday.

“What are you doing mommy?” She asks as you return back to the mixture, pouring it into the pan.

“Brownies.” You reply, glancing over at her and laughing when you see her crumbed covered face,”They’ll be ready in a little bit.”

“Isn’t mommy such a good baker?” Oscar asks as he pops another piece of yesterdays treat into his mouth.

“The bestest.” Camila nods in agreement, her long black hair a mess as it frames her face,”I love mommy’s food.”

“Thank you, thank you.” You smile proudly, sliding the pan into the oven. Glad that you cleaned up the mess as you baked so it all wasn’t piled up at the end,”What do you say we watch Trolls 2 today?” You ask her excitedly,”Tell daddy we need his card so we can buy it on the tv.”

“Papi, please buy Trolls! Please, please, please. It’s my favoritest movie ever.” Camila pleads as she turn around in her daddy’s lap and wraps her arms tightly around his neck.

“Does papi ever tell you no?” He chuckles as he places a kiss to her head,”Go get daddy’s wallet, it’s in his room on the little table.”

“Ah! I love you papi!” She squeals and jumps off of his lap and takes off to the bedroom.

“I love you too, now go wake up Cesar. He’s not going to sleep all day just cause he sneaks out at night.” You tell him as you grab his hand and pull him up with all of your force,”But don’t be too harsh, just talk to him.” You remind as you look up into his eyes,”Okay?”

“Okay.” He agrees, cupping your cheeks in his hands and pressing his lips to yours,”Don’t think I forgot about our conversation last night either.” He smirks, giving you one more kiss before turning away and heading to his little brothers room. You can’t help but laugh at his words, walking into the living room and setting up the movie. Camila returning and tossing you the wallet so you can rent it, not being able to really focus on it when it starts as your mind wanders to last night.

Late last night Oscar admitted to you that he wanted to start trying for another kid, you weren’t opposed to the idea but you did say that you needed to sleep on it. It wasn’t something that could be decided in one day. You’re pulled from your deep thoughts by the two guys of the household coming into the living room and sitting down on the opposite couch.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Cesar apologizes as Camila climbs into his lap now to greet him.

“I don’t want you to think that I said anything to boss you around, but this is a serious thing.” You tell him with a half smile,”I just don’t want any of us getting sick.”

“No I understand, you’re right. I should have been taking it more seriously.” He agrees as he playfully bounces a happy Camila on his leg,”I won’t go out anymore, promise.”

“Thank you.” You tell him sincerely, the movie still playing as you get up to check on the brownies, Oscar following behind.

“So?” He asks with a sniff as he leans against the wall, watching as you take the hot pan out and place it on the stove,”Did you sleep on it?”

“I don’t have a answer yet.” You admit honestly, pulling off your oven mitts and walking up to him, resting your hands on his chest,”I need a little bit more time, okay?”

“Okay.” He solemnly sighs,”Whenever you’re ready let me know.”

“I definitely will.” You smile and pat his chest,”Now come over here and try this.”

~

“Can you read to me papi?” Camila ask Oscar as she sits in the bed with you, putting some leave in conditioner in her curls after her bath.

“Por supuesto, ve a buscar un libro.” He grins as he puts on some deodorant, the little girl cheering as she climbs off of the bed and heads to her room quickly.

“You come too mommy!” She calls out from the hall.

“Let’s not keep the queen waiting.” You laugh as you stand up and walk out the door, Oscar following.

“I want ‘A Bad Case Of Stripes’!” Camila says as she holds the worn down book in her hand, the same one she chooses six nights out of the week.

“Well go on, get in bed.” You order, waiting for her to lay down first in the small twin size bed before you snuggle up next to her. Oscar squeezing in as well, taking the book and beginning to read it. Your heart swelling as you see the love of your life pour his heart into reading the book dramatically to keep the little girl entertained. Not taking long for Camila to fall asleep, the two of you carefully sneaking out and heading back to your shared bedroom.

“Hopefully she’ll stay asleep.” You sigh, but leave your door unlocked nonetheless, joining your husband in the bed afterwards.

“She better, I’m tired of waking up with a foot in my face.” Oscar laughs as he wipes his eyes tiredly,”I can’t believe she’s not going to be able to have her birthday party due to all of this shit, she deserves a proper party.” He tells you sadly a few minutes later.

“I know papi, I want her to have a party too.” You sigh,”We can still make the best out of it with just the four of us here. A few people already messaged me that they would drop off gifts outside, so at least she’ll have extra stuff to open. I’m gonna make her a huge cake too and cupcakes, pies, anything she wants.”

“It’s not the same, she was a bratty baby at her first three party’s cause she didn’t get the whole idea of it, this would have been her first real party that she would be able to remember and enjoy.” He pouts,”I want her to get everything she deserves.”

“She will, one party isn’t going to be the end of the world.” You giggle at his exaggeration, rolling over so your straddling him,”Why are you such a good daddy?” You ask him as you lightly scratch your fingers on his bare chest,”I don’t think I’ve ever seen a father love his daughter like you love our little girl.”

“She’s half of the women I fell in love with, how could I not love her?” Oscar smiles as he lays underneath you,”If there is something that I’ve always been certain of its that I wanted to be a husband and a father. A incredible father at that, I made myself that promise many years ago. If I was going to bring any kids into this world I would give them the best dad they could ever ask for since I didn’t have that growing up.”

“Thank you for keeping that promise.” You tell him softly, leaning down to peck his lips,”I couldn’t have asked for a better husband or father to my kids.”

“Kids huh?” He smirks as he places his hands on your love handles,”So is that a yes?” He asks eagerly.

“Why not?” You shrug as you slide your body down his slowly,”We’re ready for another.” You say, hooking your fingers in his boxers and pulling them down,”Besides there is nothing else to do.” You add amusingly and free his growing member, wrapping your soft hands around it,”Let me just show my appreciation for you first...its the least I could do.”

“Okay mamita.” He breaths deeply, relaxing against the pillows as his eyes lust over. The two of you spending the majority of the night trying to conceive another little Diaz.

[jennsmischievousmind]

Fucks not Found

Ghosts

Summary: You hack, that's what you do. Dying to do so freely, wasn't what you had expected. Meeting the weirdest fucking squad; losing the best part of you; falling for a thief : was not planned.

Pairing : Four/Billy (Ben Hardy) - You

A/N: The story goes through the all movie, so I suggest you watch it before reading.

I don't own any characters other than Eight.

English is not my native language, I'm trying to get better at it, please be indulgent.

Tried my best to match Ryan Reynold's level of sass aha

Ch1 Ghosts | Ch2 Florence | Ch3 A Matter of Seconds | Ch4 I need a Backdoor | Ch5 Die Hard | Ch6 White Flag | Ch7 Haunt the Living | Ch8 One, but not done [end]

This is how you die.

"So you're the one who hacked the wrong guy" You swiftly turn around gasping at the sudden voice in your apartment

"Depends, you’re his hitman?" You were ready to run even if it means jumping by the window.

"Nooo, I'm an angel.” You snort at his sarcasm, unknown to you at this moment that he was full of it.

"Wanna disappear?" he asked taking a seat at the kitchen table eyeing your bags at the door.

"In a body bag? Slowly you make your way to the knives, just in case.

"You are a funny one, aren't you? I know the man you stole from, you won't get far until he got you. But, he emphasized, if you’re willing to do what's right.."

"I've already done my part for the flag." Assuming he was American by the way he talked.

"I'm not talking about shitty drug dealers. But evil war-lovers, genocide perpetrators, that kind of shitty so-called human. Those ones that are above the laws with governments' balls in their hands, ready to squish them.”

"That's gross" your brother appeared from the adjacent room. You let your mind consider the stranger’s offer as soon as you look at your confused brother, knowing he was in danger because of you.

“You two look at lot alike.” The guy leaned in, screwing his eyes at you both.

“We’re twin dumbass” your brother answered glancing at you wondering.

“What’s the deal?” you asked considering the offer

The guy smirked, “Well, to be short you die, and then you take down evil motherfuckers without governments’ backlash on you.” He tapped his fingers against the Formica table.

It took 5 minutes.

"One condition, my brother comes to!"

"What's he good at?" he crossed his arms.

"I can drive…Hold on what? Die? Who the fuck are you!?”

"Already too many questions” he rolled his eyes

"He's a hell of a driver, it got him under surveillance when he got chased by 6 police cars after an illegal race back in the States."

"So they caught up Muttley” the guy clucked his tongue

“Hey!”  

"No, you interfered almost ashamed, I told him to stop the car...I got motion sickness."

The guy erupted in laughter, you two watching him unamused.

_

“I’m more like Peter Perfect.”  Your brother mumbled as the guy left.

You look by the window discreetly, catching a glimpse of the guy mingling in the crowd. “You’re Muttley bro.”

A week later you got a text. The guy who called himself One had planned your fake death. A random trek in Italy’s mountains, an assumed fatal fall, no bodies recovered.

It was never supposed to be your life. But we all know nothing happens as it should.

Papà went to fight a war and disappeared, you were forced to move in America when you were 6.

Mammà never cope the loss of her motherland and husband. She died of a belated broken heart syndrome when you were 16. 

Both you and your brother were placed in a host family. It wasn’t a crappy family like it’s always the case in some tv show, they were nice and wealthy. The father was a tech engineer, somehow you took interest in his work and start learning to code, soon reading about hackers: white hats; black hats; “We are Legion”, you were hooked and skilled in a matter of time.

When you turned major though, things turned difficult, the host family had to let you go and Internal Affairs of your state caught you looking in their network. Which led to you working as a C.I for them, it was that or prison. Not thrilled by the idea but obliged to cooperate was your new motto.

Your brother had some job here and there but nothing steady, so money from the IA was welcome.

After a year and a half, I.A ditched you, it was rather good news in a way, they’ve erased your past mistakes but said they’d keep a distant eye on you.

So you moved on from your shithole that was the 1 bedroom apartment you and your brother shared and went to your parents’ hometown in Italy. Your brother was reluctant at first as he couldn’t even say hello in Italian, you taught him as your mamma had done it with you but he wasn’t that interested.

Working with people was not your forte, you were too bossy, so you got fired ... plenty of times: from a coffee shop, a rental bike shop and a tourist city tour bus thingy. So you started doing what you were good at, hacking for money, it went well for a few years, never being too greedy - until you hacked the wrong person and got in trouble.

That's how you became a Ghost and ended up in the middle of the California Desert.

_

One had built a squad. No names, only numbers to identify each other. Not calling your brother by his name was a challenge, same for him.

There were 7 of you.

One, the “boss”, a mysterious sassy billionaire who decided to fund his own strike team.

Two, a French blonde woman, pretty cold, a spy apparently

Three, a crazy hitman who couldn’t shut up

Four, a young parkour master and reformed thief

Five, a Doctor, but you heard she was actually working at a Dentist

Six, your brother, the annoying driver.

And then Eight, you, the Black Hat somehow becoming a hacktivist.

Why not Seven? Long story short, it was one more condition you’d submitted to One.

_

_SICILY

"Your focus determines your reality.”

“Oh for fuck's sake One, quit your Jedi bullshit!” you loosed your temper typing on your keyboard angrily. An entire week, an ENTIRE WEEK quoting Star Wars!

Four and Five laughed in the comm. One braced himself on the other end of the line. Three cut the heavy silence.

“Eight, Chiquita please stop yelling”

“I’m not a Chiquita stop saying that!”

“Ok ok chi…Eight, damn you’re stressful” 

“God, why do I have to team you up!!” One facepalm

“Now what?” Five asked

Radio silence

“Oh so now no one’s talking! What are you, 4?” One angrily called out to you 2.

“Yeah, uh high, literally.” Four answered One, you snorted.

“No ..  damn not you!”

“You called me Mate!” Four said offended

“No, shush – Eight are you done with the system?” he was about to lose it.

“I’ve been done with it the second Three called me Chiquita!” you crossed your arms in front of your laptop.

“Hey ..” “We’re not talking about that again!” One cut Three

“Can we get going now?” Two interfered, you heard her bike roaring.

“Finally, some sensed words.” One said wrapping it up.

Four entered the place you’d hacked the system of. Six and Two were not far in case of trouble.

“Four, the hard drive is in the main office. Second floor.” One enunciated, you followed Fours progression with the security cameras.

It was enlivening, stressful, but oh so exciting. When you worked with I.A you were never there when they’d go down in action, it was nothing but boring data researched and dealer’s MacBook.

“Freeze Four, guards coming east.” Switching cams you gave him a safe path.

“Ok, you’re clear. Now to your left, third door then turn right.”

Four got his hands on the hard drive containing all you needed to know about the next target.

“Well done.” One congratulated the team

“Thanks, thanks, It helps to have a sexy voice guiding you” Four chuckled, you blushed, sexy voice? is that even possible?

“Great, kid. Don’t get cocky.”

You rolled your eyes at the endless use of Star Wars' quotes.

“Hum that’s my sister, remember?” Six growled tightening the wheel

“Luke grab Solo, meet up in 15minutes at the hotel. Everyone move!” One instructed you smiled at the thought of being Leïa. Gosh, you were as much of a nerd as One.

Climbing down the jeep Three had rented, you laughed seeing your brother holding Four in an arm lock for a few seconds anyway, Four reversed the lock, pining your brother’s arms behind himself.

You passed by them “Easy with my twin please.” Four wasn’t releasing his hold so you stopped, turning back you lift an eyebrow at Four insisting he let him go.

“Oh!” he lifted his hands in defence taking a step back.

Grabbing your brother by the sleeves as he was about to jump on Four “Come on piccino” you made your way in the hotel laughing.

_ 

Your first big mission started a few weeks after, everyone gathered in The Haunted House as One called it, an old bunker, cheesy name for an HQ.

“You don’t get it, I need a CAR!”

“That’s a car, Six.” Three argued back.

“No that’s a heap, that thing won’t get us through the paved road of Italy, believe me.”

Four and Five were amused by the situation, Three had rent a truck and an old Volvo for this mission.

“Alright, shut up, we’ll get another car!” One declared, Six flicked to Three.

One resumed the mission’s details. Giving everyone their own missions. A simple mission, retrieve a lawyer’s smartphone.

In the midst of it, your hand flew to your brother’s head next to you. The smacked resonating between the walls of the unfinished bunker.

“Why ..why’d you hit him?” One asked confused, your brother was rubbing the back of his head frowning at you.

“Cain’s instinct.” You replied wriggling your fingers for him to continue. Four snorted, Six nudged him in the ribs.

In a few months, you had learned a lot from this weird squad. Learning to shoot was an obligation, Three was insane but a good teacher.

You’d asked Four to teach you some parkour in case of a chase. Six and Four became close friends in a matter of time. Five was nice, but you were never one to be good at making friends. Two was not a big talker and frankly, she scared you a little.

So you spend your free time hacking and reading, on the hammock installed between a dismantle plane and a dead tree. Not far from there you could hear Four skating in the empty pool and three at the makeshift shooting range.

Suddenly,

“EIGHT!”

Groaning you closed your book “WHAT!?

Your voice boomed against the caravan and lost itself in the desert, but you still hoped Four had heard. It was his thing, screaming your name instead of coming to you directly. At his silence, you wriggle out the hammock and strode to the pool.

“What’d you want skater boy?”

He was lying in the pool his board by his side. “Four?” you made your way to the ladder, “hey” you gently nudge him with your foot but he didn’t move.

“Four? you called out worried, “shit” knees hitting the vinyl liner checking if he was breathing, he wasn’t.

“Hey wake up, seriously dude don’t make me do CPR on you, I suck at it!” suddenly laughter erupted in your ears. Six appearing on the edge, Four chucked on the floor.

“Pranking you..he tried to breathe in, is always the best sis!” Six laughed even harder at your confused face. Still kneeling at Four’s side, he was looking at you laughing, until he wasn’t, catching a glimpse of worry melting with anger in your eyes.

Punching his left shoulder, you hurried out the pool. He stayed on the floor watching you go.

“Don’t make me do CPR I suck at it!” your brother was still laughing his brain's out.

_

“What was that?”

Four leaned on the dead tree near your head, his shadow offering some shade.

“A real bad joke?”

“No I mean, why’d you hit me?”

Sighing you clasped your book closed for the second time today “you really got me worried, happy?”

“No, you propped up on your elbow at his answer craning your head to him, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His warm hand slide in your hair at the base of your neck, he leaned in, letting you enough time to push him away if you wanted.

"Sorry" he whispered, his lips pressing in your temple gently, warmly for a few seconds. Catching yourself leaning in you almost fell off the swinging' hammock as he released his hold, he grinned and left not saying anything more.

"What the hell Four!!" you yelled at him, an ounce of laughter in your voice, a blush creeping into your cheeks, his own laughter filling the desert's silence.

FLORENCE

A/N: don't forget to double tap if you liked it. 🙏

[linmanwe11]

The Affair

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Words: 1,613 Words

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: You lost your job due to company layoffs after working there for 6 years out of college, and you lose your apartment after not making any money. The stress is overwhelming until you run into one of your best friends from college, Vanessa Nadal, and she offers you a live-in job to watch her two sons while her and her husband aren’t home.

A/N (PLEASE READ!): First off, I want to give credit to the AMAZING @tinywhim ! Her story, VAIRONS, is a huge inspiration for this one, and I wanted to give her the credit and recognition she deserves!! Second, I’m sure you can probably tell where this fic will end up going, so please keep in mind that this story is just that- a fan-fiction. I do not condone cheating of ANY KIND, and I know for a FACT that this would never happen in real life with Lin-Manuel and Vanessa. I surely do hope you enjoy this story, but please keep in mind that I mean absolutely NO HARM by writing this. I love and adore Lin and Vanessa’s relationship with all my heart, this is simply just FICTION.

-

CHAPTER ONE

“[Y/N], please.”

Yes

“Lin, we can’t… I want too, but we can’t.”

“Do you love me?”

Yes

“You already know the answer to that… You know I do, but I have to think about Vanessa, don’t you love her?” “Of course I love her, but not in the way I love you. I feel something with you- I feel drawn to you. I’ve never felt that with Vanessa

Just say yes…

“Please.”

His breath fanned across your lips as he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes begging, pleading for you to give in to him and show him how much he knew you loved him. You could feel his very soul reaching out to yours, wanting nothing more than to share his love with you.

“…Okay.”

-

“I’m sorry, [Y/N], but this is just how things have to be.”

“With all due respect, I don’t understand. I’ve worked here for 6 years! Can’t you let one of the newer workers go?”

“And you’ve had an AMAZING run at this company! It’s just that… we’re looking to take things a different direction, and corporate wants to clean house. I really am sorry, you’ve been one of our best employees.”

You let out a sigh of disbelief as your boss finished speaking his final words to you. The company you had been with since you got out of college had been going through some changes, and even though you knew there would be some layoffs, you never thought that you would be one of them. After six years, you were sure that you would move up in the company, never in a million years did you think that today would be the day that you would be getting fired. 

As you packed up your things, some of your coworkers gave you looks of pity and disbelief- after all, you were one of the best workers there. You gave each of them a sad smile before you walked out of the office and rode the elevator down to the lobby and out into the busy streets of New York City. Finding a bench to sit on, you put your head in your hands and let out a defeated breath of air, the weight of the world seeming to now sit on your shoulders.

What am I gonna do now? How am I gonna pay for my apartment? Fuck, how the hell did this happen?

You thought to yourself as a million other thoughts ran through your mind, not once stopping for a breath of air. After you somewhat collected your thoughts, you stood up and went down to the subway towards your way home.

-Two Months Later-

“If you can’t pay the rent by the end of the week, then I’m sorry Miss [L/N], we’re going to have to evict you from your apartment complex.”

“Can I please at least have until next week? I promise, I’ll have the money ready by then.”

“I’m sorry, this is the best I can do for you. Good luck.” 

The past two months seemed to be the worst months of your life. After you were let go from your job, you hadn’t had much luck in finding another one, and you only had enough money for the following two months worth of rent, and now, those two months were up. You knew that even if you were to find a job by tomorrow, it wouldn’t nearly be enough to pay for this month’s rent. 

While you were walking down the street, you stopped at a coffee shop to sit and collect your thoughts when you saw one of your best friends from college walk in. 

“Vanessa?”

“Oh my God, [Y/N]! Hey!”

You hugged her and she sat down with you. Vanessa was breathtakingly beautiful, making everyone stare at her as she walked into a room, her dazzling smile could light up the sun for years. 

“So, V, how have you been? It’s been a while." “It has! I’ve been good! I’m working as a lawyer at a law firm, I have two kids, and my husband is a playwright.”

“That’s awesome! I’m really happy for you, you seem very happy.”

“I am, and you? How have you been?”

“If I’m being completely honest, not too great.”

“Aw, why is that?”

“Well, you remember that job that I got right out of college?”

“Yeah, of course.” “A couple of months ago, they decided to go through with some layoffs, and turns out, I was one of them… They said they were ‘going in a different direction’, and that corporate wanted to ‘clean house.’ On top of that, my landlord is telling me that I have till the end of the week to get this month’s rent in, and I don’t have NEARLY enough money to pay for it, so it looks like I’m out of an apartment too.”

“What? That’s awful, [Y/N], I’m so sorry you’re going through all of this right now.” 

“Yeah, it seems like all of this is coming down all at once… Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to unload on you, I’ve just had a lot to deal with, and you’re one of my best friends. I’ve missed talking to you.”

“I have too… You know, my husband and I have been looking for a live-in sitter for the kids for whenever we have to go out of town for his work… If you’re interested, I could talk to him about it.”

“Oh gosh, no, I couldn’t, Vanessa. I would hate to be a burden on you two.”

“[Y/N], you would be the FARTHEST thing from a burden, trust me. Honestly, I’d rather hire someone that I know, love, and trust rather than a complete stranger. Plus, it’s been so long! You haven’t met Lin, and I know you’re going to love him.”

After a brief thought, you decided to accept Vanessa’s offer, and waited till the end of the week to move in to their apartment. When you knocked on the door of the address she gave you, a man opened it. As you laid your eyes on him, it felt as if everything slowed down and the two of you were the only people to exist in the universe. He had short brown hair, a kind of scruffy-looking goatee/beard, and the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. 

Little did you know, he was feeling the same thing. Over the years, Lin had loved Vanessa with all his heart, but when he saw you, he felt something that he hadn’t never felt with her before, he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew that he was in love with you from the beginning. 

“H-Hi, you must be Lin-Manuel.”

“Yeah, that’s right, but you can just call me Lin if you’d like. I’m guessing you’re [Y/N]?” “That’s me!”

“Come on in… So, Vanessa filled me in on your situation, and I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that, but just know that we are so happy to have you here, I promise. Here, let me introduce you to the boys.”

As you walked through the door, you let your eyes gaze around the beautiful apartment. Their very kitchen seemed bigger than your entire apartment. It was a beautiful home, and you definitely knew that you made the right decision in taking up Vanessa’s offer. When you followed Lin into the living room, you saw two beautiful little boys playing on the floor with toys scattered all about the living room.

“Sebastian, this is [Y/N]! She is going to be staying with us and will take care of you and your brother!”

“Hello!!” The cheerful five-year old said, his eyes matching his father’s- bright, beautiful, and full of life and wonder.

“And THIS little guy,” he said as he picked up the younger boy, “is Francisco!”

You smiled graciously at the baby boy as he held his arms out for you to take him into your own. As you held him, you didn’t notice the way Lin was looking at you; adoration filled his eyes and his heart was doing flips at the sight of you holding his baby boy. He was feeling something he had never felt before, and he knew it was love.

“Wow… Frankie has never been so comfortable with a stranger before… I think he loves you!” “Seems like it! You guys have beautiful children, Lin, and such a beautiful home too.” “Thank you! Here, let me take your bags and I’ll show you to your room.”

As you followed Lin down the hall, you couldn’t help but look over his body. He was wearing jeans and a simple t-shirt with Mario Bros on it, yet he looked so good. His body seemed to be gorgeous and very fit, you let your mind wander for a split second before you thought of Vanessa.

No, [Y/N], you can’t. She’s one of your best friends, and this is her husband. Stop it.

After you settled in, you decided to lay down on the bed just for a second… Your eyelids felt so heavy, maybe you could just rest your eyes for a minute or two, just for a minute. The next thing you knew, you woke up with the sun beaming through the blinds, and a note from Vanessa.

Didn’t wanna wake you, but I’m so glad you’re here! Breakfast is ready whenever you wake up! - V

You stood up, looked at yourself in the mirror, and thought about how this was the start to a new life, and you couldn’t wait for what was in store. 

-

Chapter Two

[thessaliadpdx]

Interlude: Field Marshal Zhuāngyuán Rallies the Troops. Chuntian Cao Gets the Girl. Master Yuanyuan, Ahem, Third Master Shen, Gets His Fourth Apartment.

Unbeknownst to Shen Yuan, he was the subject of much concern. Back at the Shen Family Estate, Da-ge smacked Er-ge upside the head. An embarrassment to the Shen Family name! Little Brother was raised better than that! Baba would have been disappointed! Mama would have cried! 

Er-ge drooped and nodded in agreement. “Yes, Da-ge. I’ll go over and apologize as soon as he will see me.”

The Brothers Shen worked themselves into a froth about their family’s Yuanyuan getting a roommate. They weren’t the only ones. The other residents of the Shen Family Estate were also deeply concerned. Upon hearing that Shen Yuan was to have a long-term houseguest, Steward Zhuangyuan fretted about Shen Yuan being deprived. Master Yuanyuan, ahem, Third Master Shen couldn’t possibly accommodate a long-term guest in his cramped, pokey little apartment! (Shen Real Estate Agent: “Pokey? It’s 360 square meters with four rooms!”) In Steward Zhuangyuan’s opinion, Master Yuanyuan only picked it because it had decent light. They should have rented another apartment in the same building and made it into a studio. 

Steward Zhuangyuan recollected the effort required to make for Master Yuanyuan’s, ahem, Third Master Shen’s current apartment passable. Only two years ago, it had been a struggle. The Shen Family employees had done their best, but the steward still felt it barely up to standard for a Shen. Thank goodness Master Yuanyuan was so biddable. Steward Zhangyuan remembered when the frighteningly tiny young master had first come home, barely larger than a grapefruit. He remembered all the hospital stays thereafter. Everyone did, and they worried about Master Yuanyuan so, counting the months until the next time. So far it had been two years, but everyone still held their breath.

Master Yuanyuan was the last reminder of the late Madam Shen, the artistic genius and gracious mistress. (Steward Zhuangyuan declined to remember all the times she screamed and threw oily paintbrushes at her husband’s head. He usually deserved it.) Master Yuanyuan, unlike his older brothers, was a gentleman, a scholar, and an artistic genius in his own right. (Steward Zhuangyuan also declined to remember all the times Master Yuanyuan screamed and threw ink brushes at his father and brothers when they denied him things they perceived as for his own good. They usually deserved it.)

At the very least The Young Master had needed a studio, a study, an office, a game room, a master bedroom and a guest bedroom for that questionable friend of his. (Shang Qinghua: “Hey! I’m a nice guy! I didn’t know he was sixteen when he read my book!”) Master Yuanyuan, as sweet and good-natured as ever, kindly suggested that he could tutor students in the dining room, and place bookshelves against the wall. He also suggested that the living room also be used for gaming, movies, and music. 

Upon hearing that, First Master Shen gleefully called the Chairman of Hangsong to send their latest TV, something experimental. Six people from Shen Construction marched into the apartment. Four reinforced the living room wall, added a wall mount, and installed a 250cm television. Two wired the room for the TV, added a home theater sound system from Onsuhi, and a GM6 with the lastest games, some of which were review copies. The two grinned at the other four. Testing was an essential part of installation, right? 

Auntie Chu had found the tiny 20-square-meter kitchen marginal, at best. The appliances were old and shabby. (If the refrigerator could talk: “Hey! I’m only two years old and I cost 6899 yuan! Rude!” The stove just cried, greatly aggrieved. uwuwuwuwu) Auntie Chu nodded her head firmly. She knew what to do. Meals would be delivered every day from the Shen Estate, and new appliances must be ordered.

First Master Shen gleefully did more research. He looked for something modest, and called Chufang Bangshou for a French-door refrigerator, complete with pull-out drawer for cold cuts and snacks, and a pull-out freezer. A steal for 23,000 yuan. Then he called Zhu Rong Stoves, and ordered the four-burner self-cleaning convection gas range with the 50,000 BTU wok burner. He also ordered a fume hood. A trifling 60,000 yuan.

The previous six people from Shen Construction carried in the refrigerator, stove, and hood. An additional seventh person went with to hook up the natural gas. The Head Chef certified in Medicinal Cuisine Auntie Chu lightly walked behind. Finally, several Shen Estate kitchen staff rolled in a couple coolers. Under Auntie Chu’s gimlet eye the Shen Construction workers carefully attached and installed the new refrigerator, fume hood, and stove. 

Auntie Chu pronounced herself satisfied, and waved at her assistants, who promptly opened coolers of prepped ingredients and set up additional burners. Under the famished, yearning gaze of the Shen Construction crew, they whipped up a banquet and laid it before the workers. It was like Lunar New Year and Great-Grandfather’s 100th birthday and the Grandparents’ 50th wedding anniversary all at once. They would have to save a year for food this good, assuming there was a place that served it.

Auntie Chu said, “Testing is an important part of installation. Yes?”

Seven heads bobbed up and down like chickens.

Auntie Chu and her assistants left. The original six grinned at each other, then at the seventh. The TV, music, and gaming systems needed to be tested again. Testing, indeed, was an important part of installation.

The 8K 200Hz TV was a beast compared to what any of them had at home. The seventh looked around when they heard a glass shatter. Wow, just wow. 

This was probably going to be the last time they could play, and they all mourned silently.

Next was Auntie Wu. She inspected the apartment with white gloves, found dust, and sniffed at the substandard work. Filthy. (Housekeeping: “She wiped the back of the fridge! Unfair!”) The laundry service left a wrinkle in some sheets. (Laundry: “Hey! The main pressing iron is down! We did them all by hand and on time!”)

Auntie Wu decided that the Shen staff would dust daily, and launder everything at home. The conditions were abysmal. Master Yuanyuan was so brave. Her mouth wobbled. She’d never imagined he’d live this long. She’d been terrified that dust would cause him to have a bronchospasm and die. She had to call the ambulance so many times, even though a doctor and three nurses resided on the grounds.

Driver Siji had donned some old clothes, approached the car service manager and had asked for directions to S University. The manager said that he would have to use GPS. Driver Siji told Steward Zhuangyuan that the manager couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag. (Service Drivers: “Hey! He can’t find his way out of a paper bag! That’s why he doesn’t drive!”) He also found a footprint in one of the floormats. Lazy. (Driver: “Hey! I just went to pee!”)

Driver Siji had decided that they would have one of the Estate staff on site. There would have to be three, for twenty-four-hour coverage. Driver Siji remembered when he used to drive Young Master Yuanyuan to University at age ten. Master Yuanyuan was so tiny, a skinny little bird with thick, goggle-like glasses. Driver Siji had worried that he would trip and break a bone. 

Driver Siji had reported to Madam that The Youngest Master seemed exhausted, and suggested that it might be better for him to stay at home. The fiery Madam Shen said that The Youngest Master would attend University as long as he wished, until he said otherwise. Madam Shen then inquired if Driver Siji needed to be assigned elsewhere. Driver Siji wanted to kowtow in the face of such ferocity, but bowed deeply instead and apologized for his presumption. Appeased, Madam Shen accepted his apology and said he would resume his current duties, as he was the best driver they had. Grateful, Driver Siji wanted to walk backwards to the door, like in an Imperial drama.

#####

Head Gardener Huayuan had much better luck. Upon first inspection, the shrubbery was cheap and ill-shaped. No flowers brightened the neighborhood. Pretending to be a prospective student’s grandfather, he performed a little investigation of his own. Landscape Supervisor Xiang was a sensible person, a very good seedling. She had a master’s degree in horticulture from Q Agricultural University, first in her class. She picked this job to support her mother back home. After a while, the usually stand-offish childless widower said, “Call me Grandpa.” 

Xiang Hua’s mouth wobbled a little bit, because her grandfather died when she was young, and she missed him terribly. She discussed with the very knowledgeable Grandpa Huayuan the city’s push for water reduction. She also confessed her dream to see wild birds live where she worked. The kindly retiree understood the difficulty of maintaining such extensive grounds with such a tiny budget. Naturescaping was the perfect solution, and letting native plants grow wild created nesting sites and fed local insects, which in turn fed the birds. 

Such a wise and creative person must be encouraged. Grandpa Huayuan and Xiao Xiang discussed favorite flowers, and Xiao Xiang described her collection of orchids in her tiny apartment. Grandpa Huayuan described some of the orchids he’d seen in private collections. He’d even seen the gardens of the Shen Estate. Xiao Xiang sighed. She’d seen a feature article in a floriculture magazine.

A couple days later, the usual seven from Shen Construction had arrived to install bookshelves. The actual job only required three people at the very most, but they slunk off anyway. 

Incidentally, their supervisor reported the information to The Big Boss as ordered. Big Boss Shen had wanted updates on all work done on Third Master Shen’s apartment. Big Boss chuckled and waved his hand. They’re the best we’ve got, he said, and they all work hard. They deserve a little reward. Testing is a necessary part of installation, no?

The supervisor nodded.

Additionally, one of the junior gardeners rode along, holding a basket. He was to meet someone named Xiang Hua, the landscape supervisor. The delivery was of upmost importance. Head Gardener had told the junior that his mission was vital to the Shen Estate Gardens. He was to deliver the basket, and report back without delay. The junior had nodded so hard his chest wobbled. Upon finding Landscape Supervisor Xiang, he thrust the basket into her hands and scurried off. 

Xiang Hua, curious, opened the basket. Inside was a rare orchid she wouldn’t have been able to afford, assuming she could find one for sale. Next to it was an envelope. 

The letter read: 

“Xiao Xiang, I must apologize for my deception. I originally came to inspect the landscaping to see if the environs was worthy of our Third Master. I have not had such a lively conversation with a junior in a very long time. 

Someone with your gifts is wasted here, and should be working in an environment where you can learn and grow. Come and work for Grandpa Huayuan instead. 

Sincerely, 

Huayuan Yuan, Head Gardener, Shen Estate Gardens”

The letter named a salary that was twice what she currently made. It also mentioned that living quarters and meals were provided. Her mother would be able to live there if so desired.

Xiang Hua, a country girl raised on a poor family farm, started to cry. It was a dream come true. 

Chuntian Cao, the lead worker of her construction crew, noticed a young, tiny, pretty woman reading a letter and crying. Taller than most men at 180cm, she lumbered over to see if she could help. Chuntian Cao was a woman of fine tastes and knew a good thing when she saw the Meimei, or Little Sister, in distress. The wet, reddened eyes like a little white rabbit’s rendered Caocao helpless. The callused fingers dusty with a little dirt made Meimei even more of a catch. A hard worker with such pretty features would make for a perfect wife, especially for a plain fisherman’s daughter. She really wanted to give Meimei a hug and eat some tofu, but now was definitely not the time. 

She sidled closer to Meimei and silently offered a hug. “Hey there, Meimei. Why so sad? Some dumbass said goodbye?” She wrapped her arm around a lightly muscled shoulder. She looked down, and noted the delicacy of a collarbone. She dropped her voice. “Does Meimei need someone beaten up?” She rumbled. “I’m good at that.” She didn’t lie. At 90 kilos of muscle from pulling nets then hauling lumber, Chuntian Cao packed a deadly punch. She loved beating the shit out of people who deserved it. Unfortunately, the guys at Shen Construction were well-behaved. She went to bars instead.

Meimei plastered herself against Chuntian Cao in a hug and bawled. It was like an idol drama, only Chuntian Cao was the school grass, and Meimei was the school flower. She resisted eating the tofu, but it was really hard. Chuntian Cao waved at her crew and mouthed at them to go on up. They grinned at her and waved back. Xiao Hu, that fucker, made kissy faces. She wanted to gesture back, but her hands were occupied.

Meimei hiccuped, “I just got the best news in my life and I don’t know what to do!” She held out the letter with a trembling hand.

Chuntian Cao read it. “Old Man Gardener offered you a job? He told you to call him Grandpa? I’d never believed it if I hadn’t seen it!” She gave Meimei a squeeze. No eating the tofu, Caocao. Be good. 

Meimei snuggled up and held on tight. Caocao looked up to the heavens and breathed in deep. She sighed, and bit her lip. It was even better when the tofu ate you. She patted Meimei on the head. “Gonna come and work for us?”

“Mmm?” Meimei looked up, dazed.

“I’m with Shen Construction!” Chuntian Cao said proudly. “I’m the lead worker of my crew. Wanna come up and hang out with us? I’ll introduce ya!”

Meimei pressed close enough that the only way she could get closer was for Chuntian Cao to crack her chest open and spread her ribs wide. For such a sugar-sweet armful, Caocao would be perfectly willing to do so. Would Meimei top? Caocao sincerely hoped so.

“Okay,” Meimei said.

Meimei’s name was Xiang Hua, and she ate and gamed with the crew. The now-eight workers knew this was their last chance at testing the systems, so they were going to do their best. Beer, snacks, fried chicken and barbecue were the order of the day, and a merry time was had by all.

At the end of Caocao’s first date with Xiang Hua, Caocao got pushed down backwards on her own bed. Xiang Hua straddled her hips. Xiang Hua said that Caocao was the Meimei, and Meimeis did what their Jiejies, their Big Sisters, told them to.  

Caocao sighed with happiness. Fucking finally. She was so tired of being a Jiejie. Everyone assumed that a 180cm, 90 kilo, plain-faced girl wanted to be a Jiejie. Caocao had always insisted she wanted to be a spoiled little Meimei instead, but no one believed her.

They got married in the Shen Estate Gardens the following year. Mama Xiang teared with pride, then flew back home to the countryside. Caocao cried with relief that her mother-in-law wasn’t going to live with them. Huajie hummed with pleasure when she made her little Caomei apologize with desperation.

Caomei, with the help of a fertility clinic and amazing health benefits, bore two babies by her Huajie. Mama Xiang cried at being Grandma Xiang. Grandpa Yuan cried at being Great-Grandpa Yuan. The spoiled little Caomei had little ones to spoil in turn. She loved it.

Huajie, now Assistant Head Gardener Xiang, smiled with satisfaction--a tigress overlooking her tigress and their little tiger cubs.

#####

Steward Zhuangyuan gathered the senior staff, and cobbled together a plan of action. The apartment had been upgraded as best they could. The winning crew from Shen Construction had moved everything in. Auntie Wu’s staff had put it to rights. Auntie Chu’s staff had stocked the refrigerator, arranged the utensils, flatware, and glassware. They had made meal plans. 

Master Yuanyuan smashed all the plans to bits. Auntie Wu’s staff were only allowed over once a week. She cried into her handkerchief. Auntie Chu’s staff were only allowed to drop off pre-prepped meals for him to cook himself. And that was only every three days. She sniffled discreetly. Driver Siji was only allowed to send someone when called, and only when called. No hanging around the garage, “just in case.” Driver Siji wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

First Master and Second Master commiserated with Steward Zhuangyuan, but there was nothing they could do. The late Madam Shen had made it very clear to the two that Yuanyuan was to make his own decisions, and they were to butt out. Yuanyuan was smart enough to understand what he was and was not capable of, and they needed to respect his wishes. And that, was that.

Occasionally they forgot, but that was for another time.

Finally, the cherished but astonishingly unspoiled Master Yuanyuan moved in, quite pleased with his cozy abode. Only 360 square meters with four bedrooms! Nice furnishings, but not too grand! Having the latest electronics was okay. He was now a solid member of the middle class!

Shang Qinghua, good friend and sponge extraordinaire, hated to break it to his best friend that his “middle class apartment” was solidly in the upper five percent. Shen Yuan’s face fell. The personal services kicked him up to the upper one percent. Black lines filled Shen Yuan’s face.

Shen Yuan’s plan of having a place near the campus that wouldn’t terrify his students failed utterly. His more privileged students, ready to intimidate “Some guy named Shen Yuan my parents forced me to see,” were intimidated in turn by his exquisite manners and knowledge at such a young age. To the manor born, so to speak. After hearing from their parents that he was one of Those Shens, they meeped instead of roared. 

His underprivileged students, in awe at the surroundings, were even more in awe with this friendly Young Master. Their favorite professor in Classical Chinese had referred them, and they had worried they wouldn’t be good enough. Later, they felt honored to be tutored by the nicest rich person they had ever met, a true genius. He was obviously better off than the snooty rich kids at the university, but he didn’t act like it. He was so cool, he’d invite them to game when their session was over. He was even pretty enough to be the school flower of the entire campus! 

#####

That was then, but now Master Yuanyuan had a houseguest. Would Master Yuanyuan finally come home? Please say yes! 

Steward Zhuangyuan received a call, but it was not the call he wanted. Instead of returning to where he belonged, Master Yuanyuan was going to move into a villa instead. A villa! How horrid! 

[fuckupsoverhere]

Should Have Guessed {Chapter Four}

Sequel to Little Did I Know. Everyone wants to escape from their life, the mundane and the ordinary. That happened to (y/n) when a mob boss became infatuated with her and wants to get involved in her life, turning everything that she has ever known upside down.

Turning to Tom Holland, the mob boss, for safety did not work out. Will (y/n) go back or will she attempt to look after not only herself, but their unborn child.

Word Count: 951

Warnings: Swearing, mentions drugs, blood.

AN: I’m back and I hope that this lives up to the wait.

Previous | Next

Little Did I Know Master List | Should Have Known Master List | All Works

I have never been so stressed in my life. Nothing compares to the horrors and fear that something like this.

 Who would have known that planning a sixth birthday party would be so crazy? Especially when the birthday boy did not want to but his pants on and was just running around in his underwear.

“Tom!” I shouted and he came into the room. I looked at him with the saddest face possible and handed him the pants without any words.

“If I do this, then you need to get Tilly ready.”

“Deal!” I told him, “She doesn’t want to take her clothes off all the time… yet.”

“Key word there is yet.”

“Don’t remind me” I laughed as I left Theo’s room.

I poked my head around the corner into Tilly’s room, but I could not see her. As I started walking further around the corner, I could see Sam running around.

“Samantha,” I called to get his attention and he looked at me like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “you wouldn’t be chance know where my daughter is, would you?”

At that I heard a little giggle come from inside the room and Sam told me no, with a massive smile on his face. I rolled my eyes and shouted out “Guess no party for her then!”

“MUMMY!” I heard Tilly scream as she came running out of her hiding spot, fake crying.

Laughing, I shook my head at the pair of them before picking the little girl up and took her to her room to get ready for the party.

 The party seemed to go without any hiccups, so far. Theo invited some of his friends from school over for his birthday, so for security, we had decided to rent a house for the weekend. It was just safer for everyone. As we appeared to be a regular family who seemed to be a little over the top when it came to security, people assumed that we were related to someone important. You know, rather than being a part of the mob.

There was a massive bouncy castle; teacups ride; a ball pit; a miniature petting zoo; and the biggest table ever filled to the brim with food. Looking around, I thought about everything that we had gone through to get here. It was not easy, but it was definitely worth it. Two children, Six years, and a hell of a lot trouble, but I wouldn’t change a single second of it.

Tom came up behind me and pulled me into a hug before whispering in my ear, “Your son took his trousers off again.”

“Can you not come up to me ONE TIME and tell me something nice?” I asked pretending to be angry at him.

“You can’t even tell Theo off, it’s his birthday. If he wants to be free, let him, I say”

“No. We have guests. Go put his trousers on him!”

As Tom walked off, I noticed one of our guards walking towards me with an expression that I did not like at all. He whispered in my ear that we had a problem. But we were prepared for this. Everyone knew that if a situation like this was to occur then we do not react, we couldn’t possibly worry the children. I followed the guard into the house and down into the basement.

“It’s through there.” He told me before turning back around and resuming his post.

 I knew what to expect when I opened the door, but it was still a surprise. Tom warned me that something like this could happen since we tried so hard to act like a regular family. I told him that I would be careful. More importantly, I told him that if it happened then I would take care of it.

Walking into the room only made everything even more real. Outside, it was all ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’, but now, now I was face to face with the rat. She looked scared. She looked so afraid of what was about to happen to her, and I loved it. There was a single cut on her forehead which I assumed was from her being knocked out before being tied up in the room she was now being held prisoner. Looking at it made me smile and I could not wait.

“You have one chance. Only one chance.” I whispered in her ear, “You are going to die, so it doesn’t matter to you. But, it matters what happens to your family.” A single tear slid down her check and I took out her gag.

“I’m not tell you shit!” She shouted.

“Shame. And to think, I liked your husband. He’s always been so nice. Oh, and little Charlie gets on so well with Theo. I would hate to make her an orphan. I mean, how would poor Charlie cope wi…”

“OKAY!” She interrupted me and I knew that she was putty.

“So, Amy, who do you work for?”

“The FBI. They know that I’m here. They’re expecting an update from me after the party. If I don’t turn up, then you’ll be arrested.”

“But, how could they arrest me when I had nothing to do with it. You’re just a junkie who needed another dose, after already drinking too much, and recked her car. I can’t believe that I let someone like you near my son and daughter. And poor, Sean and Charlie. Life insurance doesn’t pay out for druggies. And all the gambling debt that you’ve accumulated, it’ll kill them.”

“You’re a monster.”

“No. I’m a mother. And I will kill whoever put my babies in the way of harm.”

 Tag List:

@ragweed98​ // @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ // @jackiehollanderr​ // @ladythena​ // @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts​

[mini-moongi]

Mistake || Namjoon

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: You meet your soulmate in a crowded hallway when you, quite literally, fell for him. After spending years together, what happens when you find that your husband really wasn’t the one? 

A/N: Revisited my cringey old wattpad acc and I think this fic is actually salvageable, so I reworked it for y’all :)

────── ☽. ✧₊∘ ──────

Senior year of high school was a pain in the ass. You tried to finesse your way through the crowd during the passing period, and finesse you did not. You bumped into multiple shoulders, but one was harder than the others, so you whipped your head around planning on telling them off. You’re met with a pair brown eyes hidden behind thick rims and left with whiplash. Words left his mouth, but you didn’t hear him as he was swept away with the flow of the crowd.

A pain shoots up from your wrist, and you tear your gaze away. There, printed in bold black numbers, was your soulmate timer. It had ticked to zero, but your soulmate was nowhere to be found. Where were they? This thought struck you with fear and panic, and you ended up tripping over someone’s bag on the ground. Let me tell you, panic combined with the anticipated fear of falling was definitely not a good combination.

That fall never came, and you find yourself held firmly in a strong hold. You opened your eyes, and it was like everything was in slow motion. His handsome face was inches away from yours, and he was smiling from ear to ear. “Are you falling for me right now? Because,” He repositions his arms around you, landing on your hips and pulling you closer to his body. “Something tells me you’re my soulmate.” And you really thought he was the one.

That was how you met your soulmate and husband, Jeon Jungkook.

Lazily waking up, you found yourself being hugged by his comforting arms. The ones he held you in when you first met. The clean white bed sheets rustled under your touch; they were always warm in the mornings when your body heat from the previous night made it feel like a toasty heaven. You snuggled underneath the blankets. 

Just a little longer, was usually the first thought as he kissed the back of your neck and held you closer. Jungkook was always a romantic, and so this morning felt no different than the last few hundred honeymoon-esque mornings spent together. You’d never been good at romance, but you didn’t have to when Jungkook was there. He was your soulmate, after all.

“Good morning, Honey.”

“Good morning, Baby.”

He groans at the thought of leaving your embrace, but nevertheless, he got up and dressed for work. A classic button up and dress pants. You smile softly to yourself when he hands you the tie, already knowing that he’d eventually call for you after fumbling around for a solid 15 minutes. Back in high school, and even now, he didn’t really seem like an office job kind of guy. You always imagined he’d do something more active, like being a trainer or a police officer, but here he was getting ready to sit behind a screen all day.

He fixed his hair in the bathroom while you headed out to make coffee in the kitchen. You handed him a cup when he emerges, glistening like a hot CEO. Kissing you on the cheek, he sighed a small “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you called out after him as he rushes out the door. “Have a good day at work! See you soon!” Tonight was date night, so it was okay when he didn’t spare you another glance. It was okay when he never waved goodbye, and it was okay because he was your soulmate.

He usually came home at five, but five turned into six, and six turned into seven at night. You decided to text him, making sure that everything was okay.

You: hey are u ok or did u forget about date night lol

JK: I’m so sorry baby but my boss called me in

JK: Working late today :((

You: oh ripppp

JK: I’ll eat the left overs of whatever u get for dinner tonight

You: ok I’ll be at the library if u come home early

He was always busy nowadays, but you had to admit that any job was tough if you didn’t love it enough. He tied himself down in order to support the relationship; your freelancing job as a journalist wasn’t enough for rent. You knew Jungkook always dreamed of bigger, more important jobs, and sometimes you wished you could take his place instead. Maybe he’d be happier then?

As soon as you put your phone down, your wrist twitched. The familiar pain lingering from the shock. You looked down with the same panic and fear rising in your chest. There they were. One thing was different, though. The old black numbers were red, actively ticking away. It said that you’d meet your soulmate in 000:00:59:58. In less than an hour? But you’ve already met the love of your life, this wasn’t possible.

Then it dawned on you. You’d read a couple of blogs about it once when you were researching for your job. It’s possible to end up with the wrong soulmate, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Plenty of people who didn’t meet their true soulmate end up in love with someone else and live a full life. The problem happens when one of them meets their true soulmate and falls out of love. When that happens, fate resets your timer in red, like a warning sign. 

These were always rare cases, so you didn’t think it would ever apply to you. Yet here you were, staring at the ticking red numbers. How could you have let this happen?

The constant late hours, the excuses, rashes, the perfume? For heavens sake, he called you by a different name! You quickly pulled yourself together and huffed out of the door. Now that you think about it, did he call you by his soulmate’s name? You growled in frustration just imagining him kissing his soulmate instead of you, instead of telling you the truth. He was a mistake, and to think... you married that son of a bitch.

Without realizing it, you were standing in front of the library. It wasn’t too far, but had you really driven the whole way without noticing? You took a deep breath in and walked through the door. The familiar quiet was calming, unlike the mess you seemed to have hurled yourself into. You settled your things at an open table and walk off to browse the new releases. Your finger grazed loosely over the spines of the books while you skimmed through titles. Suddenly, your shoulders bumped into someone who was reaching for a book. Your wrist buzzed again, the frozen red zero glaring at you.

When you looked back to tell him that you were sorry, your words got caught in your throat. His honey brown eyes were wide in hidden behind thick rims; lips parted in surprise. He seemed to be unaware of his attractive physique. All of his tall, well-built, golden skinned physique. The longer that you two stood gawking at each other, the more his face heated up; poor boy was flustered. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed down some of his shock. A smile formed on his lips, revealing dimples that so beautifully framed his face. 

You couldn’t take it any longer. No more lies, no more heartbreak, and no more Jungkook. Before you could register what was happening, your lips were on his. He was still for a moment, but suddenly his hands were finding its way around you and left no room to breathe in between kisses. It was passionate and hungry; you longed for more, but his glasses held you back.

“....hey to you too?” He chuckles softly,” I’m Kim Namjoon, thanks for asking.” The stranger pulled away from you enough to look you in the eyes once more. A sigh of relief left his (now swollen) lips. “I’ve been waiting to meet you again for so long.”

“Oh my god I kissed you.” The whole situation finally clicked in. As sweet as this whole ordeal was, you still had a life outside of this Kim Namjoon guy. What were you thinking? “I... I kissed you? I’m so sorry,” you stammer. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry, I have to go.” You stumble out of his warm embrace as you frantically look for an exit. You saw sadness wash over his face, and it hurt you so much to leave, but you had to. No matter how much your body screamed at you to turn around, to hug him, to love him, you couldn’t. In your hurry to leave, you also left the stack of books you planned to check out.

You made it a couple of steps outside of the library when a hand gently wraps around your wrist that kept you from your grand escape. “Please, at least tell me your name?” Oh god, even his voice had to be attractive, didn’t it? Your vision was blurry from the oncoming tears, but you looked at him one last time. If only to get a glimpse at the man you were supposed to be in love with. 

“I’ve been alone this whole time just waiting for you,” He pleads. Namjoon’s thumb glides over the well-worn ring on your finger. “I can feel it; your wedding ring. I know it’s hard, but please, tell me the name of the one I love.”

When you got home, dinner was the last thing on your mind. You just climbed into bed, hoping to never wake up again. Much to your dismay, the morning rays beamed in your face. Your eyes feel swollen and a massive headache enveloped you. You feel Jungkook’s warm lips press against the back of your neck, and in an instant, you were wide awake. Memories of Namjoon clouded your mind. You felt sick to your stomach, and you couldn’t stand the thought of being in the same bed with Jungkook anymore. You didn’t bother to say a word before you left the bed, hoping to ease your worries over a cup of coffee.

“Y/n honey, are you feeling okay?” Left dazed and confused, Jungkook clambered off of the mattress following after you. “There wasn’t any dinner left when I came home. That is unless... you ate it all?” He says.

His smile wasn’t reciprocated, so he dropped it. He comes up behind you in a groggy embrace with his head resting on top of yours. The empty silence was filled only by the sound of the coffee machine. He sniffs your hair, a once soothing habit turned uncomfortable. Thoughts about Namjoon doing this with you flipped your stomach inside out and upside down. On the other hand, Jungkook doing this with someone else seemed to also leave a volatile reaction in the depths of your heart. 

“Jungkook, do you still love me?” Your voice trembled as the question hung in the air.

Silence was met with more silence, and you felt Jungkook’s body tense under your question. A sigh escapes him,” Y/n I... I’m sorry.” He let go, letting the cold replace his warmth. You missed his touch, but you know that if he held you again, the deep hatred building inside of you would only grow.

 “I didn’t think you would find out this way.” His fingers combed through his dark hair as he slumped onto the barstool next to the counter. In what way were you supposed to find out?

“Just tell me how long.” Your cold response struck fear in him, for he only knew your kind words. The contrast was too jarringly different for his liking; it was like you were a stranger again. The coffee flbflbsksks and started pouring into the pot. 

“A year.”

The rest of the day was spent alone.

Divorce papers were filled out, you gave away the ring, and lastly, you said good by to your high school sweetheart. The place you moved into was closer to the library; walking distance more acceptable to your business and pleasure. You remembered you haven’t gone by the library since you met Namjoon, and decided it was time to pay a visit.

Upon reentering, you realized that there were books you forgot to check out in your rushed escape. The same table you sat at was wiped clean and empty; no books from your list. You walked back to the sections where you first stumbled upon them and time seemed to slip past you. Of course, you’d made the mistake of retracing your steps.

“Y/n?” A voice called out gently, as if any sudden movement would set off a bomb. Panicked and anxious, you whipped your head around to meet the same eyes you missed. The tall figure, dimple smile and all, walked towards you. “Are you okay? The ring...” he sees your bare hand, and takes it in his. “You didn’t... I.. I’m so sorry; it’s all my fault.” 

Before you let dejection sink into the depths of his soul, you interject. “No! No, it’s not your fault I uh,” the nerves in your body were currently going nuts. “Honestly, It was a long time coming.” Your laugh was shaky, but it helped calm Namjoon’s fidgeting. “...Is it weird I want to hug you?”

Namjoon wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. His cologne wormed its way inside of your mind as you inhale deeply. His warmth was like a sun’s ray, filling you with nothing but peace and happiness. Your head is buried in his chest as you mumbled out,”I’m sorry.”

“What matters is that you’re here now, right?” He smiles at your nod in response. Namjoon held your face in his palms and kissed you softly on the forehead. “Let’s check out some books, and then maybe grab some lunch? It’ll be my treat.”

“I’d like that.”

────── ☽. ✧₊∘ ──────

A/N: ....where can I meet fanfic Namjoon 😳😳

[missytearex]

Hi! So I’ve decided to do monthly recs instead of weekly recs from now on, which mean this list is kinda long, so I put all the under 10k fics under the cut, but be sure to check them out too! And remember to leave kudos and comments when you do ❤

Tired Tired Sea by @mediawhorefics — [fic post]

larry | 113k | mature

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Not That Gone by @a-brighter-yellow --- [fic post]

larry | 61k | explicit

A few weeks after Louis and Harry, *ahem*, reconnect at their high school reunion, Harry temporarily moves back home. Louis isn't sure he has the emotional fortitude for a prolonged fling with the man of the dreams.

Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl — [fic post]

larry | 40k | explicit

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

I Just Want You to Stay by @sadaveniren --- [fic post]

larry | 34k | explicit

Louis and Harry have been roommates for four years, comfortable in their routine and their relationship. But all of that is about to change.

The Spaces Between Us by @justalittlelouislove — [fic post]

ziam | 33k | explicit

Liam is a ghost bound to nothing, feeling nothing. Until he finds Zayn and learns what it means to feel everything.

Give A Little Sing To The Singles by @londonfoginacup --- [fic post]

larry | 31k | teen and up

Harry Styles is an adult now, with a real adult job (and benefits! Whatever those are!). He spends his days at the copier. Copying things.

That being said, no one told Harry that being an adult came with a confusingly chaotic boss, a copier machine that would be hell-bent on ruining his life, and a coworker so good looking that Harry might just have to quit. After all, Christmas is coming and if their office doesn’t win the decorating contest, Louis has threatened to break several laws and kneecaps in retaliation.

Happy Christmas, here’s to many more.

The Goat Guy of Bethlehem by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

larry | 25k | not rated

every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

reach the stars by @disgruntledkittenface — [fic post]

horshaw | 19k | mature

Spring 2021. Four years after breaking up with Louis and moving to New York with his best friend Aimee, Nick runs into Niall and they start dating. When their relationship gets serious, Nick struggles to tell Niall how much he means to him.

Everything I Do by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 16k | explicit

the one where Harry finds a book of Elizabethan courtship rituals which sets in motion a series of events that can lead to only one conclusion.

High Heels, Red Dress by Anonymous --- [fic post]

larry | 15k | explicit

Louis answers the call when Pearl Harbor is attacked and there is no way around it. The United States is at war. Hiding his queer identity isn't so hard until he attracts the attention of a particular soldier. It's all lies and secrets until the war is finally over. Maybe then Louis can finally have his happy ending. It's up to fate to decide.

when half spent was the night by @juliusschmidt --- [fic post]

larry | 14k | mature

Hi Harry,

I’ve skimmed your website and am interested in hiring you to be my doula. I’m 7 ½ months pregnant and not keen to do this whole labor and birth thing alone. After looking around, I thought you might be a good fit because you mention enjoying unusual people with unusual birth requests. I can meet up any day this week.

Lou

You are the feeling of drugs, pulling the chain of my love by @peujeune — [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 10k | explicit

Louis gets bored with all the questions by the next week and tells everyone, in no uncertain terms, to fuck off, in a Facebook post he subsequently deletes the next day. Instead, he chooses to ignore all his friends.

And text Nick.

you’ve set my soul to dreaming by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed — [fic post]

larry | 9k | teen and up

Thirty year old Harry Styles goes to bed single on Christmas Eve, only to wake up on Christmas morning with a husband in his bed and a son down the hall.

The Truth I Can’t Explain (Smoke and Mirrors) by @fallinglikethis — [fic post]

larry | 9k | mature

Louis Tomlinson scans the horizon. It’s dark, but his werewolf eyes are equipped for that. He sees clearly in the inky black of the forest around them. He and every other wolf can see the moment the first blood mage crosses the boundary into their compound. The mages must think they’ve disabled the wards on the edges of the boundary but the wolves did that themselves when they found out the mages were coming. Louis’ pack has opened the door and put down the welcome mat. It’s up to the mages whether that mat becomes stained in blood.

on the same page by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 8k | mature

The one where Louis doesn’t know what the hell is going on.

You’re a Nightmare, I’m a Disaster by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 7k | not rated

the one where Nick is a writer, Louis works in a bookshop, and things don’t exactly start off on the right foot, but they might just end on it.

The Gingerbread Show Off by @homosociallyyours --- [fic post]

larry | 6k | general audiences

The Gingerbread Show Off is the biggest event of the year at Harry's still sort of new to him job, and when he's given a spot to compete in it he's beyond excited. When he realizes that he's going to be paired up with Louis, the man who's been sneakily stealing his ideas since almost their first day of working together, he's understandably frustrated.

He still wants to win, though, and he's not going to let his office enemy bring him down.

The Circle of Life is Not a Circle, it’s a Stick by @lounonymouse --- [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 5k | teen and up

This is a story about Louis, his husband Nick, their daughter Ella, and her pet stick insect Mr Sticky McStick-Face.

B-Sides & C-Cuts by @bitter-leaf — [fic post]

shiall | 5k | teen and up

Niall’s stuck in Toronto the day before Christmas Eve. Shawn plans to make the most of it.

A Not So Silent Night by @lightwoodsmagic --- [fic post]

ziam | 5k | teen and up

Liam's had a crush on Zayn for months, every time they talk on the phone just making him grow fonder. He's just never met him in real life. When he finally gets to meet him, it turns out that he can't take his eyes off him dancing on the table at the bank's Christmas party. Especially when he starts taking off his sweater.

Summer Love by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 5k | teen and up

Summers at his lake house are Harry’s favorite time of the year. They’re treasured moments in time spent with Louis, his favorite person. The boy with the bluest eyes, the brightest smile and loudest laugh. Harry’s best friend for all of his summers. He’s gonna marry him someday. All that Louis needs to do is ask him - again.

my heart got caught on your sleeve by @foliealou  — [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 5k | general audiences

Louis Tomlinson decides to come out: a story in three acts.

it's getting bluer (and you can't keep faking) by @dinoflangellate --- [fic post]

nessie | 4k | explicit

For a second, Niall can’t move, pinned in place by Bressie’s casual words. Get you sorted could mean so many things, things he wants, and his brain almost explodes.

I Knew From The First Time by Anonymous --- [fic post]

larry | 4k | teen and up

Harry spent weeks picking out a gorgeous ring, and months planning every little detail of the perfect anniversary trip to propose to Louis. Except it doesn't go as planned and the ring disappears.

Harry Styles Plays with Kittens While Answering Questions by @sadaveniren — [fic post]

larry | 4k | teen and up

Louis runs a Youtube channel and Harry is his celebrity guest

to love you in word and deed by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 4k | general audiences

Louis loves everything about living with Harry. Except for Harry’s effusive proposals. Because the problem is, it’s getting harder and harder for Louis to keep reacting like they’re jokes.

Roll the Dice by @allwaswell16 — [fic post]

larry | 3k | explicit

Louis has been in love with Harry since they were eighteen. It isn’t until Harry’s thirtieth birthday in Las Vegas that Louis must finally decide to either tell Harry how he feels or let him marry someone else.

molecular by @dinoflangellate — [fic post]

zouis | 3k | teen and up

The team pushes into the lab, jostling each other through the sliding glass doors. Eenie, meenie, miney, mo. There they are, the four of them, present and accounted for. Louis shoves his way in last, looking sweaty and triumphant, and the hand around Zayn’s heart finally unclenches.

Unto You by @londonfoginacup — [fic post]

larry | 3k | teen and up

Louis is a lamplighter celebrating the saturnalia season in his own way.

Harry is heavily pregnant and new in the city.

The holiday of Christmas is yet to be created.

Brring Brring (that’s the land line) by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 3k | general audiences

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles have been dating for six months and two weeks.

It’s one in the morning, and the phone rings.

Snowdrops and Mice Pops by @ohharold --- [fic post]

larry | 3k | teen and up

The boys are stuck at Hogwarts over Christmas incapable of taking the Hogwarts Express back to London. A botched together friends Christmas would have to do.

step into christmas by leighbot

zarry | 2k | general audiences

the one where Zayn's written a Christmas book for children and Harry brings his son to a local reading.

Oh Valley Girl by @londonfoginacup — [fic post]

larry | 2k | general audiences

Out past the rolling hills and the churning sea sits a little fishing village, nestled in a valley where its residents are protected from the elements, as well as from the outside world as a whole.

Harry lives in this little fishing village, and she loves nothing more than feeling the earth beneath her and seeing the sky above her and sometimes dreaming of adventure.

Then one day a ship arrives.

Tricks and Treats by @homosociallyyours --- [fic post]

larry | 1k | general audiences

wherein Louis receives a package not intended for him, Harry has a brilliant idea, and the two of them meet properly at a Halloween party.

Gratuitous puns, bone® jokes, and creepy neighbors abound!

This Is Halloween by @hadtobelou --- [fic post]

larry | 1k | explicit

Louis' Halloween doesn't go as planned.

Scarily Incompatible by soidiallednine 

larry | 666 | general audiences

Harry seems perfect for Louis. Lottie certainly thinks so. But one really scary choice by Harry will doom them before they start.

something weird (but it do look good) by @uhohmorshedios — [fic post]

larry | 666 | teen and up

Harry’s upset that Louis didn’t appreciate his attempt to put a very-Harry twist on a Halloween meme and Louis tries his best to make it up to him.

take my hand (i won’t let go) by @tempolarriefix — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

in which zayn and liam are in love, niall doesn’t want to third wheel, louis hates scary things, and harry works in a haunted house.

aka the ficlet haunted house meet-cute that you never knew you needed.

The Devil Went Down to Georgia by @kingsofeverything — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

Louis just wants to fall in love for eternity.

the future reflected by @louandhazaf — [fic post]

larry | 666 | not rated

Louis didn’t take the stupid game seriously. Maybe he should’ve.

The Literal Gates of Hell by @evilovesyou — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

Louis has a passion for the supernatural and tends to drag his friends into his ghost and demon hunting adventures. His guardian angel isn’t too pleased when they set out to find one of the actual gates of hell.

You Win by @ziamhaze --- [fic post]

ziam | 666 | general audiences

Based off this AU: A werewolf finds a human who is strolling in the woods late at night, and just before the werewolf goes to attack the human, the human then starts to beat box and the werewolf is too intrigued to attack them.

I Still Follow by @smoke-flowers — [fic post]

zarry | 606 | general audiences

The sky is cloaked in black velvet, but he swears he sees stars.

[keepingupwiththekenyans]

I worked nearly 100 hours my last paycheck. My handled a $30MM closing while my boss was in Mexico. My sisters having a baby soon. My brothers husband is about to get kicked off the property. He may (and should) go back to prison. My uncle had strokes last year and was in a medically induced coma for six weeks and then lived with my parents and now is with his father in Idaho. My uncles wife (who lives rent free with him on my grandfather’s land) stole money and makes threats to leave him. I’ve got attorneys throwing shit at me on every end and nothing is going right.

And I realize that the person I thought would be a good fit isnt because he hasn’t been involved in any of it. No plan to come home. You say you want it to work. You say you’ll come home when you’re ready. You say you have an end game. But you don’t. There’s no definitives. You can’t even give me a planned exit strategy. I can’t wait around for you to get your shit together when YOU left. When YOU made a stupid choice to leave a great job and drive trucks and manage some stupid oil refinery or whatever. You can say “oh I wish” or whatever bullshit until the cows come home but I can’t do it anymore and it’s an insult to waste my time without the reciprocity I’ve put in.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me - Chapter 21

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​

“Hi mommy!” Millie cheerfully greets, as Esme journeys towards where her daughter sits on the shoreline, clad in one of her many bathing suits, head and most of her face covered by an oversized floppy sunhat. She’s the happiest when by –or right in- the water; calm and relaxed, that edge she always seems to carry softened and almost nonexistent.  

The ocean is a powerful antidote for all that ails you. Even Esme finds  that the mere sound of the waves and the smell of the salt that hangs in the air helps in easing the burden of the stress and worries that she often carries. And as beautiful as they are and how majestic the view from her back deck had been, that’s a feat even the mountains had never been able to accomplish.

“What are you doing?” she inquires, as she crouches down beside Millie, the little girl turning her face up for a kiss.

“Just stuff,” Millie replies, and turns a bucket of wet sand upside, adding it to the ‘castle’ that she’s already constructed. “Daddy said to stay here and not to go in the water without him.”

“And you actually listened? I’m impressed.”

“Well I don’t want a shark to eat me,” Millie explains, using the back of her sand covered hand to push wayward strands of hair out of her face.   “Daddy said that sharks like little girls with blue eyes and light brown hair the best. ‘Cause we taste like watermelon and that’s their favorite.”

Her mother smirks. “And you actually believed him?”

“Oh course! Daddy wouldn’t lie. And I’m not taking any chances. I do not want to get eaten by a shark.”

Esme glances over her shoulder, to where her husband is flat on his back, sprawled out in the middle of blanket; arms loose and relaxed at his sides, sunglasses on. “Is he dead?”

“God, I hope not,” Mille moans. “’Cause he’s the good cook and I’m getting hungry.” She wipes the sand from her palms onto her thighs, then cautiously lifts the edge of the receiving blanket that protects her baby sister –laying along her mother’s arm- from the brilliant sunshine.  “Hi Addie,” she presses a kiss to one tiny foot, followed by the other, then fixes the blanket.  “She’s awake. I think she smiled at me.”

“Well she likes you. You’re her big sister. You’re the one that used to talk to her and read her stories all the time when she was still in my belly. She probably recognizes your voice.”

“I hope so. And I hope she knows I’m not annoying like the other ones.”

“Your brothers are not THAT bad.”

“Oh, yes they are, mommy. I mean, I’d miss them if they weren’t here anymore. But they’re little assholes.”

“Amelia...”

“I know,” she sighs dramatically. “Bad language. I’m trying. I really am. It’s so hard though!”

“Especially when you’re around your dad as much as you are and he  has absolutely zero filter left.”

“He is totally a bad influence,” Millie agrees. “We had fun today. We went shopping and had ice cream and daddy made me buy him two blue Gatorades at the dollar store ‘cause we ended up being in there forty minutes instead of twenty. But I had to get glitter and paper so...” she shrugs. “He’s going to help me make birthday invitations.”

“He actually agreed to that?”

“Yup,” she sounds so much like her father, even with that one simple word. “He’ll do anything I want. Anything.”

“Except wear the tiara.”

“Oh, it’ll happen. He will wear the tiara. And I’m going to take a picture when he does and you’re going to put it on your Instagram.”

“I don’t think he’ll like that.”

“Oh well. He put the video of you up when you were sleeping and he gave you the wet willy.”

“That’s right. He did.”

“It’s only fair, mommy. He did you dirty. Now you have to do the same to him. I think you deserve revenge.”

“You know what I think?” Esme reaches under the hat to tuck hair behind Millie’s ears. “I think you’re an evil genius.”

“I don’t know if I’m evil, but I’m definitely a genius. You know,” she appears pensive for a moment. “Now that I think about it, I must be adopted.”

Esme laughs. “You’re a little savage.”

“I learn from the best,” Millie declares, then frowns as she notices her mother’s choice in foot apparel.  “Mommy, what the hell? Why are you wearing socks on the beach?”

“I don’t like the sand between my toes. You know that.”

“That is just weird.”

“I swear, if you start sounding or acting any more like your father...”

“I’m sorry. His DNA was stronger. It’s not my fault. It’s why I’m so awesome.”

“You definitely need to stop listening to him so much,” she lifts the brim of the hat and presses a kiss to her daughter’s cheek before standing up and wandering over to where her husband lies. “Are you alive?” she asks, digging her toes into his side, right between two of his ribs. “You better be because I haven’t gotten the chance to renew your life insurance policy yet.”

“What you would you get?” he responds. “Twenty bucks?”

“Twenty bucks?” she scoffs and settles down on the blanket besides him; placing Addie on his chest and stretching her legs out in front of her. “That’s generous. That’s ten more than what they offered.”

Tyler smirks. “Well one thing’s for sure. I can at least die knowing you didn’t marry me for money.”

“We had like what? A few hundred bucks between the both of us when you got out of the hospital? It’s safe to say neither of us were in it for financial gain.”

It had been incredibly easy to blow through nearly every cent either of them had in the bank, including whatever had been sitting in savings.  The first two weeks after Dhaka had been spent in a hospital in Mumbai, and Nik had refused to cough up the money to even cover a small part of the bill, citing that she couldn’t access private funds within the company, and there simply wasn’t anything left from the first and only payment they’d received from Mahajan Senior. In the end, neither Tyler nor Esme had received a penny from the Dhaka job, adding insult to grievous injury. Even transport to Australia had to be paid for out of pocket, and it had wiped out both of their checking accounts.  

Their start to their new life had been rough; a new apartment with barely any furniture in it, two months of inpatient therapy with only weekend visits home allowed, a baby on the way.  All while still trying to get to know each other outside of those five days in the dirty hotel room in Dhaka. But they’d gotten through it; every fight brought on by frustration, disappointment, and pain. Every harsh word spoken out of guilt and regret. Every time they didn’t know how they’d be able to put food on the table or properly take care of a baby once she arrived. But things slowly started getting better. Her old boss had contacted her saying she was owed a large chunk of money for previous work she’d done for him, even though she’d known full well it was just generous gift on his behalf. Then a check had come in the mail from Saju’s wife. Enough to cover six months' worth of rent and still have some left over. They’d never found out how she even knew who they were, let alone how she tracked them down.  

To this day, they’ve never actually spoken or met face to face. But once every three months an email arrives from Neysa, complete with pictures of her now teenage boy and an update on how they’re doing. No mentions of whereabouts; even behind bars, Mahajan Senior has a lot of pull in not just Mumbai, but all of India. His influences stretch far and wide, and almost seven years later, Saju’s inability to get Ovi away from Tyler and his eventual death is still viewed as a catastrophic failure.  It didn’t matter that his son had been rescued from Asif or brought home safely. Or that lives had been lost and others altered forever. Even Tyler, despite stepping up and giving Ovi a relatively normal life and the family that he both wanted and deserved, is regarded as an enemy. He was the one that stood in Saju’s way, after all, and more than once through the years Mahajan Senior has commented: “you don’t know how to die, do you”.  

****

“I think if we got through that first year intact, we can get through anything,” Esme comments.  

“That was a pretty shitty twelve months,” Tyler agrees, as he lays his palm on Addie’s back and wraps an arm around his wife’s waist, hand coming to rest on her hip. “There was some good stuff too. I mean, we got married and had Millie. But for the most part...”

“It was pure crap,” she finishes for him, and he nods. “But now look!” she cheerfully exclaims. “If anyone had have told you back then that this is where we’d be now, would you have believed them? That we would have gotten this far? Everyone was against us. Everyone. Nik, most of my family. And we’re the ones getting the last laugh. We’re the ones that are still together while their lives are shit. Is it wrong how happy that actually makes me? That we get to sit back and watch their lives fall apart?”

“Maybe a little bit wrong,” he says with a grin. “But I get it. There’s someone I wish was still here so I could rub it in their face.”

“Gaspar?”

He nods.  

“He did not like me for some reason. Kept calling me ‘that girl’ or ‘the girl’ even when I was in the room. What was up with that? I mean, other than the fact he was a complete sociopath.”

Tyler shrugs. “He was just protective I guess.”  

He doesn’t want to talk about it; Gaspar, the ten million dollars offer to give up her and Ovi. It still haunts him; how calm and callous the other man had been about the whole thing. As if it wasn’t two human beings that he was willing to sacrifice for the almighty dollar.  And he knows he’ll never tell her. The whole truth behind what had happened that night. What good would it do? Telling her that she’d come dangerously close to being thrown at Asif’s feet. The outcome would have been horrific; rape, torture, unbelievable abuse and cruelty. It’s bad enough that those thoughts still plague him. She doesn’t need them weighing her down.  And he’s thankful when she changes the subject.

“She wore you out, didn’t she,” Esme comments, a hand over her eyes; sheltering them from the sun as she watches Millie happily playing in the surf.

“She’s like having ten kids rolled into one. I’m starting to understand why her teacher is so tired at the end of the day. Millie plus twenty others?”

“Twenty? There’s thirty kids in her class.”

“What the fuck? Thirty?”

“Look, things have changed since you used to travel by horse and buggy to your one room schoolhouse.”

“You know what...” he slides his hand up to her side, then pinches the sensitive spot below her ribs.

“Ow! You shit head!” Esme cries, and then shrieks when his fingers did in just above the hip. Aggressively tickling her until she’s flat on her back; kicking and squirming and squealing for mercy.  Laughing until she succumbs to loud, painful hiccups. “You’re a dick!” she dramatically pouts and directs an elbow into his side;  still allowing him to draw her tightly against him, a hand coming to rest on the back of her head as he presses a kiss to her temple. “You almost made me pee myself,” she complains, as she rests her head on his shoulder and places her hand over his as its sits on Addie’s back.

“That’s what you get for making an old man joke.”

“I hear that getting extremely sensitive about aging is the first sign of senility,” she teases, and places a kiss just below ear, then to the scar on the side of his neck. And she pulls back to look at it, tracing a finger over the surface.

It’s almost seven years old now but has just begun to appear not as dark or swollen.  It will always be there; no matter much if softens. A lasting reminder of how close to death he’d actually come. Even now there are days where she can barely stand to look at it; filled with either immense sorrow or rage. And others where she feels nothing at all. Where it’s nothing more than one of the various battle wounds that take up residence on his body. She knows every single one and the stories behind them; able to find them with and trace them with her eyes closed.

“It’s really starting to change,” she comments, and then lays her hand on the side of his face and turns his head towards her, kissing him softly.

“It doesn’t both you are much anymore.” It’s more a statement than a question.  

“It never bothered me because of what it looks like. It’s never been about that. It bothered me because of what it represents.”

“You and I do not like at the same way. It reminds you of the end. Or what was almost the end. It reminds me of the beginning.”

She smiles at that and leans in to nuzzle the tip of his nose against his ear. Closing her eyes as she rests her forehead against his cheek, his hand moving from the small of her back to the nape of her neck and then higher; kissing her as he combs his fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face and off her shoulders.

“You guys aren’t making babies, are you?!” Millie calls, her voice dripping with disgust. “I do not want another brother!”

Tyler chuckles. “This is not how babies are made,” he assures her. “Sometimes it starts out like this and then leads to babies being made.”

His wife scowls. “Don’t touch her things. What’s wrong with you? Amelia, we talked about this. It is not possible to have any more babies. Your dad got neutered.”

“What the fuck?” Tyler mutters. “Don’t tell her that.”

“What do you want me to tell her? You got the snip and had to lie on the couch for two days with a bag of frozen peas on your crotch?”

“You know how you always threaten me with sleeping on the couch? You keep pushing your luck, you’re going to end up there.”

“A full eight hours without you snoring or talking in your sleep? Sign me up. Awww...baby...” she gives a dramatic pout and places a series of kisses along his jaw. “...did I hurt your feelings? Did I upset your delicate sensibilities? I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“I can think of one way that I’ll accept.”

“We only do that once a year. It’s not our anniversary yet. So no, not going to happen. Anything other than THAT.”

A slow grin spreads across his face. “Anything?”

“I don’t like that look you get when you ask that.”

“You trust me?” he asks.

“I’m not sure right about now.”

“Just trust me. I’ll go easy on you. I promise.”

She frowns. “You’re not even going to tell me what it is?”

“Nope. You’ll find out. Once the kids go to bed. It’s not that bad, I swear. I wouldn’t do anything that would hurt you or freak you out. It’s tame. For me, anyway.”

“Even at your tamest you’re dirty. With a capital D, so...”

“Trust me,” Tyler implores, then gives her a long, slow kiss before sitting up; one hand on the back of Addie’s head, the other on her bum. Grimacing at the pain that settles in his shoulder and the stiffness in his back. Some days it’s bearable; he can get by without popping any pain meds and time in the water or even standing under a hot shower is all the help her needs. Other days he can barely get out of bed and there isn’t enough medication in the world to even take the edge of. The lasting and crippling souvenir of a hard, punishing life.  

“You need to go and get that checked,” Esme scolds, as she kneels behind him, a palm pressed between his shoulders as she digs the fingers of the other hand into the most troublesome spot: to the right of the spine, on the edge of the shoulder blade. She doesn’t even need to ask anymore. She just knows. Every spot that aches, every trigger point that send pain and numbness shooting his entire arm and settling into his fingers.

“I probably should have gotten it checked when we first moved here.”

“You think, Tyler? You really think? You know what I think? I think we’ve far surpassed it just being a separated shoulder.”

“A fucked up shoulder is more like it,” he says through gritted teeth, then stretches his legs out in front of him and places Addie on his thighs.

“You were supposed to take it easy after the replacement surgery. Not go back to what caused all of the damage in the first place.”

“I don’t need to hear this.”

“Well, you’re going to hear it.”  She wraps her arm around his neck, resting it along his collarbone as she digs her thumb into the most sensitive and painful area of the muscle. Causing a litany of profanities to spill from his mouth; loud enough for Millie to stop what she’s doing and glance over her shoulder, a concerned frown on her face.  “Why did you wait so long?” Esme sighs. “I told you when you got back from New Zealand to go and have it looked at.”

“I just thought it was separated,” he speaks through clenched teeth, his eyes closed. “Then I thought maybe it was just the arthritis flaring up. Now...”

“Something is totally fucked in there. I can feel something moving around. And there’s a lot of clicking and popping going on. You’re probably going to need surgery. Again.”

“Okay Miss Negativity. I don’t need to hear this.”

“You’re going to hear it, you stubborn shit head. What are you going to do if it gives out while you’re training Ovi? Or worse. When you go and rescue his sorry ass. Then what?”

“First, I’m going to dope myself up and hope for the best. Second, there’s no guarantee that I’m going to have go and bail him out of trouble. Let’s just get past the first part, yeah?”

“You’re going to pass the first part because you didn’t go and get your shoulder looked at when you should have. You need to stop worrying about everyone else and take care of yourself for a change.”

“That’s rich. You of all people saying that. Okay....stop...stop...fuck...” he drops his head to his chest; sweat beats across his forehead and trickles down his temples.  

“Are you okay?” She leans in and pecks his cheek. “You look like you’re going to puke.”

“I feel like I’m going to puke.”

“Seriously, Tyler, you need to go and get looked at. I’m not fucking around. Enough is enough. Stop being so...I don’t know...so YOU.”  Heaving a sigh, she sits down beside him one again, one hand rubbing his back comfortingly, the other softly stroking his thigh. “Go and get it check,” she begs. “Please.”

“Nothing can be done about it right now anyway. It would have to wait until the shit with Ovi is done. Then I’ll go. As soon as it’s finished.”

“You better. Because I’m not above being the kind of wife that makes your doctor's appointments for you. You’re worse than the kids sometimes, I swear. They actually listen better than you do.”

“I know. I’m a pain in the ass.”

“Huge. A huge pain in the ass,” she concedes, then tousles his hair. “Did you know Kyle didn’t come home last night?”

He removes the receiving blanket from Addie’s face, smiling down at her as he leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I didn’t know he lived here now.”

“He walked Salena home and never came back. Not until you and Millie left to go into town. You know what that means?”

“He got more action than I did last night?”

“It means that there’s trouble in paradise. Or hell. However you want to look at him and Nik.”

“I don’t look at them at all, so...”

“What is the hold she has on you guys? We’ve established she’s not good in bed. She doesn’t give head so it’s not that either. She doesn’t even have big boobs or a nice ass.”

“First, she doesn’t have a hold on me. She never has. She was there if I wanted it. That’s it. No strings attached. I’d fuck her, she’d leave. That’s as far as it went. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Were your standards that low?”

“I was taking Oxy with booze. What do you think?”

“I think I came along at the right time.”

Tyler nods in agreement.

“You have to admit, Kyle is way too good for her.”

“Don’t drag me into this. I don’t care what either of them do. He wants to marry Nik, let him marry Nik. Who gives a shit? Don’t take it so personally. Do I think it’s fucked he’d hook up with someone that cause shit between us? Of course, I do. But if he's that stupid, he deserves to be miserable.”

“We’d be related to her,” Esme points out.

“And? We’d never have to see her. You think they’d come here all the time or something? Nik would never settle down here. Ever. Trust me.”

“Kyle wants to. Settle down here.”

“He’d never win against her. Stop worrying so much her so much. Yeah, she caused a lot of shit. Or tried to. But it didn’t work and us being together and being happy and having a family? That’s the best revenge against her. Your brother’s a big boy. Let him do what he wants. You can’t stop him from fucking up his life.

“He’s my brother.”

“And? Your brother knowingly got with someone who tried to ruin your life. If you ask me, he deserves whatever shit show he gets with Nik.”

“But...” she runs her fingertips along the top of his hand, then along the smooth metal of his wedding band. “...if we could get him hooked up with Salena....”

“I’m not getting him hooked up with anyone. Leave me out of this. You shouldn’t even be involved in this. We’re adults for fuck sake. Can we concentrate on our own relationship and our kids? Because those two things are all that matters to me.”

“I didn’t realize we were having problems to concentrate on.”

“Did I say there were problems? Other than I think you should mind your own business? Stop...” he drapes his arm across her shoulder and pulls her into him, kissing her temple. “...let’s just worry about what us and what goes on in our own house. Who cares what your brother is doing or who he’s doing it with. He can handle his own shit. He does not need you getting involved.”

“I just think...”

“Esme...”

“...that he...”

“Stop,” he gently orders, then tangles his fingers in her hair and draws her into a kiss. Longer time and more intense; closed mouth upon closed mouth. And the tip of his tongue just brushes against her top lip before he pulls away.

“Okay...” she sighs, and grins when she feels him kiss the tip of her nose. “...that was...nice...”

“Nice? Just nice?”

“Well I can’t show you just HOW nice because there’s little people here. But trust me. It was better than nice.”

“Just let it go. This thing with Nik and your brother.  If he fucks up, he fucks up. He’ll learn his lesson. Let’s just concentrate on us.”

“I hate to break it too you, honey, but if we haven’t been able to concentrate on just us in almost six years. Five kids, remember? Do we even exist outside of being parents anymore? Because I don’t remember the last time it was ‘just us’. And I’m not talking about sex, for the record. So let’s not get into that conversation again. When is the last time we actually went somewhere without out kids?”

“Well it was just you and I in the bathroom this morning while I took a leak and you brushed your teeth.”

“That was a really nice three minutes of connecting with you, I must say. I’ll see you again in another what? Five, six years?”

“You wanted a big family. I was fine with three.”

“Pardon me? You’re the one who wanted a fourth and a fifth. You’re the one who talked me into it, remember? You wanted a half dozen kids and a stay at home wife and I was more than willing to give you what you wanted. So don’t start with that.”

“That means there’s one more to go if we agreed to half a dozen.”

“Oh no!” she laughs. “Don’t you even dare. I am done. I am babied out. You want another one, you go find yourself a second wife to give you more kids. Because this wife is done.”

“One more wouldn’t hurt.”

“It would hurt my vagina, okay. It’s seen five kids already. It’s a hot mess down there.”

“A SEXY hot mess,” he grins, and nudges her playfully with his elbow.  

“You are like the most biased husband on the planet and I love you so fucking much for it,” she wraps her arm around his neck and presses a noisy kiss to his cheek. “No wonder I keep you. You do wonders for my ego.”

“So one more?” He hopefully attempts.

“You’re insane. Why would you go and get the operation done and then decide three months later you made a mistake? Why didn’t you just hold off until after Addie and then we had this discussion?”

“I thought we were done. That was it. Five.”

“Because we agreed we were done. And now you’re changing your mind. Just like you did when Declan was supposed to be the last one. What is wrong with you? What is this overwhelming obsession to breed?”

“It’s not an obsession. I just...I don’t know...” he shrugs, fingers fidgeting with the hem on Addie’s sundress. “...I just want to leave something good behind when I go, I guess.”

“And you’ve made five very good things. Five very beautiful and healthy and incredible things. So why...?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats. “I just wouldn’t mind one more. Even it out.”

“She’s only three weeks old,” Esme reminds him.

“I didn’t say I want one right now. I mean eventually. A year from now. Two years from now.”

“That is not what you’re thinking, and I can tell. That is not what’s going on in your head, Tyler.  This started as soon as all this Ovi crap came about. As soon as you agreed to get back into things, you started thinking about this, didn’t you.”

“Maybe...”

“What’s going on in that mind of yours?” She combs her fingers through his hair, presses a kiss to his cheek. “That beautiful, troubled mind.”

“I don’t know,” Tyler admits.“I just thinking about if things go wrong...if I have to help Ovi and things just get even worse...what have I left behind? Did I do enough? Did my life mean anything?”

“Your life means so much more than you think. To me. To your kids.  Don’t ever doubt that, please. You will have left so much behind. You helped make five amazing little human beings. Who adore you and worship you and think you’re the most amazing man in the entire world. And you know what?”  She curls both arms around one of his “I think you are most amazing, beautiful man in the world, too. You don’t realize it, but you saved me just as much as I saved you. Don’t ever doubt how important you are to me. Or your kids. Okay?”

He nods and places a kiss to her brow before resting his forehead against hers. Sometimes even the biggest and the strongest need to feel appreciated and validated. Even if they’d never admit it out loud.

“And as far as this sixth kid thing goes, can you give me at least a few months? Because right now I’m worn out and sometimes I don’t even know if I can handle the five I already have.”

“Well for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty fucking amazing.”

“You really are the most biased husband on the planet,” she grins.

“It doesn’t make it less true. And speaking of five kids, where’s The Ginger?”

“He didn’t want to come home from Salena’s and I was not dealing with the tantrum that would have ensued if I’d have forced him. You might be able to carry him all the way from there to here, but he’s damn heavy and I’m not even attempting it.  I told her that you’d come and get him after dinner.”

Tyler groans. “You’re going to send me over there? Do you know what I had to deal with yesterday when she came by here? Twice? Do you know she was checking out my dick?”

“She told me. She’s hardly shy in case you haven’t noticed. She wanted to know how I haven’t been split in two yet.”

“Jesus Christ...”

“What? Sometimes I wonder myself. Are you blushing? Holy shit. Is Tyler Rake blushing? I’ve seen it all now. You’re not usually like this. You usually don’t mind when a woman checks you out.”

“They’re usually not checking out my dick and my wife isn’t usually talking to them about my dick, so...”

“Baby, just so you know, I brag about every part of you. Not just your dick. Did Kyle call?”

“That was a weird transition. Why does he talk about my dick too?”

“I’d be very worried and disturbed if he did. I was wondering where our other children are. If he’s actually surviving out there somewhere with them or if you turned off your cell so he wouldn't call for help...”

“He left a voicemail. Said he’d have them home before bedtime. I said to keep them for a few days but...” he shrugs. “...he didn’t agree to that. Sorry. I tried.”

“You know what means? For the first time since Declan was born, testosterone is not in charge of the house. Now it’s estrogen.  Oh my God, you poor man.”

“You’re not PMS’ing, so I’m okay. I’ve survived almost seven years of that shit every month. I can survive one night.”

“We’ll see about that,” she gives him a wink, then places her hands on his shoulders to help push herself up onto her feet. “I’m getting too old for this shit. You’re going to be picking me up and carrying me to the house one of these days. I think I’m falling apart too.  Millie!” she calls to her daughter. “Let’s go and cleaned up. Daddy’s taking us out on a date.”

Tyler grins. “He is, is he?”

“When you do ever get to go to dinner with two and a quarter beautiful women?”  

“There was this one time in Thailand...”

“No one wants to hear about your conquests, Tyler. And by no one, I mean me.”

“Daddy...” Mille stomps over. “...did you see this shit?” she wildly gestures towards her mother’s feet with the plastic shovel in her hand.

“Millie, just don’t ask. Let your mom be as weird as she wants. I’m used to it.”

“Socks on the beach!” Millie huffs. “What the hell, mom.”

Tyler smirks, and clutches Addie to his chest with one hand, offers the other to Millie and lets her think she’s pulling him to his feet. “I bet you’re extra glad my DNA was stronger the day you were made, aren’t you?”

“So glad,” Millie agrees, and then shrieks when he scoops her effortlessly with one hand, giggling hysterically and her legs kicking as he tucks her under his arm, carrying her ‘football style’.  

“You know...” Esme muses, as she curls an arm around his waist. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe things will go okay. With Ovi.”

“They will,” he promises. And hopes that those words sound more convincing to her ears than they do to his own.