#my dad in a specific tone of voice: 'what a lovely story' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strayed-quokka · 1 month ago

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babydoll || ji changmin || act ii

↳ Changmin isn’t popular nor is he rich, whereas you run on the other end of the spectrum, spoilt and living on your dads credit card. when you’re tasked with kicking him out of the biggest party of your year, you come to realise he’s not all that bad. unfortunately, falling in love with the ji changmin is your one way ticket to social suicide.

↳ pairing: ji changmin x female reader + ex lee juyeon x female reader

!!! this is not a love triangle !!!

~ rating: NC-17 minors please do not interact with this work

↳ genre: enemies to acquaintances to reluctant friends to lovers, slowburn, drama, angst, happy end but it takes a long ass time, rich girl broke ass uni boy

~ warnings: everyone still kinda sucks, juyeon is toxic and a red flag, manipulation, emotional abuse, toxic relationships, family abuse (implied, vaguely shown), bullying, reader is still a pain to deal with, alcohol, drug use, the classism is strong in this one still, implications of an eating disorder, body issues, body modifications (tongue and nipple piercings), changmin is basically a chainsmoker but we love him, minnie teaching ya'll and reader how to roll a cigarette, cocaine is common, so is imported wine, swearing, pet names (little doll, doll, darling, princess), whore and bitch, suicidal ideation, mild violence, first degree burns, taller reader with long hair, is anyone redeemable?

everyone is an adult in their 20s

!!! if I missed anything or I remember something else I will add it !!!

↳ words: 28,173

a/n: this is late. I apologise this shit is long as hell to edit and it broke tumblr and my computer.

I have said this previously but I will be stating this every chapter. There are some specific physical attributes to this reader which I usually avoid doing but for the story itself it was necessary.

Also, please note that the warnings are applicable to the chapter in question, not necessarily the whole story. You can find all the general warnings on the masterlist to babydoll. I also take no responsibility if you take issue with the topics and characters at hand once proceeding as I would hope you have read the warnings beforehand. If there is something I did genuinely miss in the warnings you are more than welcome to tell me though, since there is a lot and some might get overlooked.

let me know if you wanna be on the taglist and please I beg love up on this changmin he's taking all the strength I have and possess.

babydoll playlist || act i

You could go without hearing Changmin’s voice for the rest of your life. It’s not that it was an unattractive tone or that it was harsh, but it was the person behind it that immediately brought you to a halt. There was a very big part of you that almost knew what this was going to be about, and you were set on avoiding it.

It was the very first time you didn’t stay to catch his attention. You walked away, heading down the stairs to the first floor in an attempt to shake him off. But Changmin was stubborn in his pursuit of you, especially today, and he persisted in running after you until he caught up and stood right in front of you to block your path.

“Why am I wrapped up in a rumour that you want to fuck me?”

It’s painfully embarrassing to hear those words from him. You’d expected it, given that in the past few days, the looks you’d received were ones that made you feel cornered, like prey being chased. Chanhee had even asked you, in a tone that sounded so judgemental that for a moment you thought he’d slipped into the opposing side. Juyeon’s side.

Hyunjae had been worse. You’d deemed him a maybe friend, especially considering how he’d been standing up for you recently, but his tone, like he was amused and laughing at your massive fuck up and that it was somehow funny to him, had made you cold towards him.

Younghoon was a nightmare. He’d grabbed your long hair by the roots and dragged you into an empty hallway to shame you. You’d embarrassed Juyeon and everyone knew about it. You fucked your ex boyfriend, used him for his money like a whore and then had the audacity to think about someone else.

It’s not like you had wanted to.

It had been an honest mistake, a thought that fell away from you.

Your social status had fallen to a new low. To a degree that had even Chanhee wary of speaking to you around others. You didn’t blame him, as you knew if it had been him, you’d likely cast him out much the same. See, that was the thing in both your circles, when it was all wealth and appearance and nothing of substance. Looks mattered, behaviour mattered, how awful you were to keep it perfect didn’t matter at all.

You missed Chanhee but you didn’t beg for him. He spoke to you when he desired, asked if you were okay, even apologised once when you were alone, but the damage was done.

Chanhee couldn’t fully understand it either. He knew you so well, he knew you’d never jeopardise yourself to this extent, so how were you possibly so stupid?

You straighten your posture but you’re more nervous than usual, hiding your palms underneath your hoodie as you fiddle with the sleeves.

Yes, the same hoodie the man before you had returned perfectly new, wearing it like an oversized dress with heels that once again made you just a little taller, and right now, it reassured you. You were above him, both physically and in status, and that still remained true. He would never be better than you.

“Says who?”

You’re stoic and nonchalant in your behaviour, even ice cold as you try to keep all your expressions away from his prying eyes, but Changmin only raises his brows and leans against the wall in disbelief because he doesn’t believe it. You’re not sure why he doesn’t, anyone usually would, but he looks at you like you’re see through, like everything is laid out in front of him, like he knows you down to the bone and it makes you extremely uncomfortable to know that he’s analysing you for more than just your body.

“Half the school is asking me why you moan my fucking name when some asshole fucks you and your concern is who?”

To be perfectly fair, both were of your concern. The fact that so many people approached a social outcast to ask him what the fuck you were doing, what you had done, all because Juyeon ran his mouth, just as much as who specifically had been the one to bring this to Changmin’s attention.

“Juyeon?”

“No, though I hear he’s been riding out the emotionally torn up victim perfectly,” you almost laugh because you can imagine it so well. Juyeon’s ego had been bruised and he had to run around so that everyone would know about it, but you caught yourself by hiding the slight smile behind your hand.

It wasn’t funny.

“I really don’t care, you know? You can fantasise about me all you want. Is that why you kept my hoodie?”

He’d been so close. So close to making you take a step back, if even just for a minute to tell him it was okay. Because the reality, as much as you hated it, was that none of this was really Changmin’s fault, even if you wanted it to be.

And then he went and ruined it, and it made you snap.

“You think I fucking like Juyeon going around telling people that I said someone else’s name when I fucked him?! Like you so graciously told me to?!

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t you think I’m humiliated enough?! It’s so fucking embarassing that it had to be you,” and that’s when you break. The cruelty of your words aren’t lost on you, but the emotional torment and humiliation you feel is even worse. You don’t let yourself, but it happens almost on its own when you start to cry, and you never cry.

Not like this, but the tears fall so freely that you couldn’t catch the droplets between your fingers even if you tried, and Changmin just stands there like an idiot. He stands there and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s amused in watching your vulnerability or because he genuinely feels bad, but either feel equally as bad at this point.

You run away as a result, and this time it proves successful as Changmin doesn’t seem to be following you, so you keep going. You run all the way to your car and when the door closes you allow yourself to really break, because you feel like your life is ruined. You feel like everything you worked for, and everything that was so unbearably painful to work towards, was for nothing. People looked at you now and saw one thing. You were the one who hurt Juyeon, someone well loved, in a manner that is so utterly humiliating that anyone would say he deserved better.

Juyeon was never the bad guy, and you just had no idea how to possibly spin it so that he could look to be the one who’d caused you more pain than you’d caused him. For the truth to your relationship had ran deep behind closed doors and you’d never let anyone in on it, and yet you slip up once and he lets the mask fall on who you are.

At least, who you are in his eyes.

You were sure now more than ever before that you and Juyeon were over, and it was like experiencing a break up all over again. It hurt, a lot, because there was once a time in which you would’ve said you maybe loved him. And the reality of him at the very least never caring to preserve your dignity and appearances when he knew how hard you worked for it and what you did to attain it, was a brutal reality that you simply did not want to face.

Weeks go by and you’re sure your life has hit a wall that you’ll never get over. You felt dramatic, sure, but you were certain you could simply cease to exist and it wouldn’t really matter anymore. It wasn’t that you’d made any plans at your life. It was more so a feeling of if you faded away, would it even make a difference?

You didn’t think it would. You’d let yourself sink to the status that Juyeon had asked for. You crashed, horrifically, falling so depressed that getting to class was a challenge, much less looking presentable. Your endless pairs of heels were replaced with trainers, ones you liked from dior but not nearly as graceful and elegant as what you usually had on, and you practically lived in hoodies that posed as dresses because they were just about long enough.

You still wore make up, but it was far less intricate than before, and your hair was usually up in a high ponytail because you just wanted it out of your face, and you wanted to hide the fact that you barely had the energy to brush through it.

Everything was tiring. Having everyone stare at you, treat you so far beneath yourself for something that had been no one's business was an awful, terrifyingly isolating feeling. You’d never been more aware of your appearance ever before as you were now, and yet you’d also never been as unenthused to fix it in your life. What was the point when the looks were the same. You were judged, beneath them.

You’d sunk to Changmin’s status, and for the first time you wondered how he could do it. How was he able to brush almost anything off, to seem so unbothered, when he was being torn apart from all directions. You’d done it to him, but you’d seen others do it far worse, and yet he acted just the same. It was something you wished you knew how to mirror, for maybe then it would at least earn you some respect back where he couldn’t, because he lacked the privilege you had.

Chanhee had brought you a coffee in the morning, your absolute favourite order and therefore you knew how expensive it was. A mix of extra shots of coffee and syrup, but it was refreshing and made you smile as he kissed the top of your head. You appreciated it more than he probably knew, because Chanhee hadn’t been around you much in recent weeks. Ever since it happened, you wouldn’t call it distance, but more missed chances to cross each other and neither of you made an effort to fix it.

Normally, Chanhee loved to pry. He wanted all the dirt and tea he could get out of you, but it’s like he knew to not cross this line, and the end result was distance. It was ironic, really, because you could’ve really used someone to talk to. For someone to ask with a non judgemental tone what the actual fuck had happened.

Even if in truth you didn’t fully know either where the hell you had gone wrong.

Changmin had tried to talk to you one more time but you’d turned him away. It’s like he’d chosen the worst moment, exactly when Hyunjae and Juyeon turned the hallway towards you both, and if you had even considered staying for a bit to hear what he had to say, it all went out the window as they showed up. You turned so fast to run that the three of them would likely fail to catch you.

Juyeon had somehow managed to spread more rumours, because the kicked little kitten had seen you with the very man you’d thought of. It felt ridiculous, even pathetic, the way he was dragging it, and yet the way you knew to stand up for yourself was entirely lost on you. You forgot to speak, forgot how to be firmly yourself with your thoughts to tell them all to go to hell. You forgot how to exist in yourself.

You went home that day and saw Changmin’s dark hoodie laying on the edge of your bed where you’d left it in the morning, and you decided you’d had enough. You weren’t a weak person, and you were letting yourself be walked over and dragged with the name of someone you didn’t even like. Why the hell would you stand for it, like he was worth more than you?

It was five in the morning when you got ready for your lecture three hours away. You dragged yourself into your shower, your little cat watching you with peculiar eyes because you were never up this early. She knew that, so she found it rather odd and just sat there perched curiously on the counter where all your makeup was messily strewn about for someone else to clean.

Changmin might’ve forgotten about the hoodie entirely, accepting defeat and transferring ownership, but you wanted to cut any and all strings with him. You wanted to have no part of you be intertwined with him, no association or ties that meant you even knew each other.

And you would do it looking absolutely stunning.

Your dress sits so tight it threatens to hurt you, but it forms around your body well and the length is just enough to be acceptable if you tape it to your thigh before it rises above your ass. Not class appropriate, but its never bothered you before.

You decide to wear one of your three red bottom heels, the highest ones you own, the colour black to go with the same coloured dress, paired with your silver jewellery. The ridiculous hoodie in your hand ruins the entire aesthetic, but at least you’d be rid of it soon.

When your driver drops you off at school, you make the not so unusual albeit stupid decision to cut a line of cocaine on a small piece of decorated glass that you keep in the car to break and distribute the powder into lines, because you’re tired as hell and have to withstand a lot of stares today. That, and you would willingly go looking for Changmin, his piece of clothing hidden away, folded neatly and delicately in a discarded designer shopping bag from one of your many expensive trips on your exes dime.

Maybe you needed a cigarette. A bottle of wine wouldn’t hurt either.

“You look very nice today,” it was a careful voice, Hyunjae, but you frowned when you turned to look at him. He was alone, well dressed with a cologne you couldn’t recognise, rare in your case, but nice. It wasn’t overbearing, and it mirrored the man in front of you quite well.

“Since when do you take the time to give me a compliment?”

“I just think you look nice,” he sounds honest and sincere, which in truth you do believe he means. You don’t think he’s carelessly choosing to say words to make you feel better, but it still doesn’t sit well with you, so you smile at him gently and touch his shoulder to squeeze it and ask for his attention.

“Well don’t, Jae,” he lets you leave, and you’re determined more than anything to find the man you wish to blame everything on. There’s a bounce to your step, wide awake now as the drug infiltrates your bloodstream, and you’re almost a little excited to get it all over with.

You’re even more excited at the prospect of dragging Juyeon down beneath you, but that was for later.

You’d just about given up on finding Changmin when after your final class, the library proved successful in your search. However, it also proved to be a mistake. You’re not sure what the reason is, but seeing Changmin makes you stop. You hit that familiar wall, except now it's a dam and it’s threatening to break. And if it breaks, so do you.

You’re emotionally charged in a way you don’t want to be, simply because you see him standing there, reaching for a book dressed in a simple t-shirt with his glasses perched over his nose that looks almost crafted from the side at which you're standing. It hits you suddenly, that you find Changmin to be physically beautiful. Even when he isn’t well dressed, there is a simplicity to him that is welcoming, and it makes you want to turn away.

He notices you, probably because a shadow loomed to his side and he was notified of your presence because you simply stood there. He’s carrying three books, and you wonder what they are, but then he moves towards you with a confused stare that has you thinking you couldn’t do this.

“Is there something on my face?”

His voice breaks you free from your mind in which you are a prisoner, or at least feel like one with your overwhelming thoughts that you simply never wish to have. Everything seems so easy for him, talking to you seems simple, and you’re wondering why you can’t formulate words to return it when it shouldn’t require any effort at all.

“I have your hoodie,” you keep your voice low just in case, but he hears it and seems to curiously perk up at the prospect of getting his clothes back.

“Oh? I figured you were keeping that,” honestly, so did you. You’d really wanted to, because it was still insanely comfortable to you. You loved it, in truth, for the way it wrapped around you felt soft, like you were nestled up in something that wouldn’t hurt your skin and never sat too tight just to form your body a certain way.

“I don’t want anything that ties me to you,” you wonder if it stings, when you insult him like this, but he makes no face that tells you it does. He’s perfect at hiding how he feels, and you nearly wish to ask him how he does it. How does he remain so okay, when things so cruel and hurtful are thrown his way?

You wish to emulate it, even in this moment, but you can’t.

It’s the one part of him you wished you could learn to take for yourself.

“Are you okay?”

Those three words hit you like a knife straight through your chest, reverberating deep in your bones as your entire resolve breaks. Your walls fall apart yet again and he’s the one to do it, because in truth you aren’t and he’s the only one to even ask the questions in weeks apart from Chanhee. People you consider your friends, or would consider anything at this point that Changmin isn’t, haven’t even asked, and yet he stands before you and doesn’t even seem to stumble over the words to pose the question.

And it makes you cry.

It’s absolutely humiliating to cry like this and the mascara burns your eyes in an instant, and yet every effort to stop forsakes you because it all makes it worse. Changmin stands there so awkwardly, like he might have ways to comfort someone but no ways of knowing how to comfort you, and you’re fairly certain he wishes to turn away because he finds it uncomfortable to simply stand here with you, in a corner, far from others yet not far enough that no one could see if they didn’t go to look

“I… listen… I really didn’t mean to make you cry,” you can tell he doesn’t like it. Maybe because it’s you or he’s uneasy by it in general, but it fills you up with even more embarrassment as you try to will your body to walk away. Yet you’ve turned to stone, accepting your humiliation because how much lower could you go before his eyes? You’ve broken entirely and he’s witnessed almost every second of your demise as you became nothing of value to absolutely everyone around you. You really were like a whore.

“Can you just t-take it?”

Forcing the bag into his fingers doesn’t work, and you note for the first time the silver rings he wears. You’re surprised you missed it before, or maybe he wasn’t always wearing them, but they’re intricate in their simplicity and you wish to have a closer look, though you wouldn’t be the one to ask.

“Listen… I know you have some pathetically unjustified hatred towards me-” you scoff, only to prove his point that has him rolling his dark brown eyes because he’s exasperated that you simply can’t let him finish, “I also find you incredibly fucking annoying and a raging bitch-”

“Hey!”

You want to hit him, yet you’re not going to disagree with him. You know how to hurt people well, how to manipulate a situation and how to come out on top above everyone else and so it earned you occasionally negative titles that were sometimes deserved.

Nevertheless you weren’t quite sure what he was getting at.

“Do you want to get some ice cream?”

Whatever it was, it hadn’t been that. You hadn’t expected to be asked to go anywhere with him, and yet here you both were, in a position of vulnerability for him and one even more for you. You were conflicted and uncertain in what you’re answer should be, because even if your first thought was to say no and reject him, it wasn’t what you truly wanted.

“What?”

“Ice cream makes anything better. Don’t you think?”

Well, no, you didn’t think so, for it added weight where you didn’t need it, and yet you didn’t want to turn him away. You were upset, evidently, and he was trying to do something to bring a smile to your lips and you hated that it felt like it was working. It shouldn’t be working, and yet you were heavily considering it.

“Fine, but I don’t need us to leave together.”

“I have another class, anyway,” but the way he spoke made you wonder if he’d been willing to skip it, if you’d immediately said yes to something you’d never thought you’d hear him ask. He almost seemed bitter but you weren’t quite able to feel bad.

But you wouldn’t mind ice cream, if you were honest.

“I can meet you there,” Changmin seems surprised, perking up in a way that is strangely endearing yet you refuse a smile, waiting for him to tell you where to go.

“It's just a ten minute walk from here. Amorino, I think.”

You’d heard of it, but in truth you’d never been, but it was meant to be good for the little it cost, so maybe it was worth a try.

“Fine. I’ll be there,” you’d get some of your assignments done, maybe, but first you’d need to spend the next hour in front of a mirror so that you didn’t look like an absolute mess, even when you felt like one. Changmin looked like he wanted to say something else, but he bit his tongue and walked away from you with your hands still firmly latched around the strap of your shopping bag. You wondered if he’d intentionally left it in your grasp, if there was a reason he was no longer so hellbent on getting it back, but you weren’t going to dwell on it.

And you were not keeping it any longer either. If anything, you’d blame your willingness and brief vulnerability to say yes on the fact that you simply just wanted to be rid of him, and that included the item you were holding.

You almost wished the rain had put him off from walking through the glass doors that led inside a sickly sweet smelling cafe, slightly cool because of the various ice cream needing the lower temperature. Sadly, it hadn’t, and Changmin walked in just a little over an hour after you had taken a seat in a corner far inside the shop, hoping that if anyone you knew would walk past, they wouldn’t recognise you. When he spots you, he seems almost as apprehensive as you to approach, brushing through his matted down wet strands of dark hair to move them away from his forehead.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” it seems true. Like he hadn’t expected you to really show up and in truth it seemed like the most reasonable assumption to make, because you really had no idea either.

“Me too,” he smiles at you and it makes you uncomfortable, for the shift in the way he treated you seemed disingenuous, yet nothing about it told you that his kindness in looking at you wasn’t real. It’s like you’d genuinely managed to amuse him with little to no effort, after the countless times in which you were a pain in his ass.

“Do you know which flavour you’d like?”

“I… honestly can’t decide,” it all sounded heavenly. You couldn’t remember when you’d last indulged in a sweet treat like this, even if it hadn’t been intentional to go so long without. It just never came to be for a very long time and suddenly you were overwhelmed with flavours that you wanted to try. You could’ve eaten half the menu, and yet you barely desired one in terms of calories.

“I think you can choose up to three for one cone,” three seemed absurd. It seemed excessive and yet the temptation to try three was so overbearing that you wanted to give in.

“Are you having three?”

“Probably,” you nod, falling silent because you really don’t know how to talk to him normally. Changmin was a stranger to you, and you fully realise it when you sit across from him and realise that you don’t know him at all. You don’t know who he is, how he thinks, aside from what he tells you, and the only other thing you know is what he looks like, and that he often adjusts his glasses as if they sit just a little too big.

“I can order for us both,” he offers, breaking you out of your trance to once again be reminded of how strange this is. You don’t like Changmin, yet sitting with him like this is simple. It’s weird, but it’s easier than expected. It’s very awkward, but it’s simple.

“You don’t have to order for me.”

“It was an offer, not a demand,” you roll your eyes, though his kindness isn’t lost on you and you’re once again sat here wondering what you’re really doing, and wondering why Changmin’s shift in personality was so sudden but genuine.

“Stracciatella, dulce de leche and coffee.”

“I can tell you’re rich,” you wonder if it’s an insult, but if it is he’s smiling and that almost makes it worse. You know how to do it best, smile through something you didn’t mean, or something that was an insult but you wanted the other person to maybe have hope that it wasn’t meant that way. Or maybe he was joking, and the slight tease just went way over your head.

“What’re you think?”

“Vanilla, lemon and amarena,” you nod, as if to just tell him you were listening but have nothing to say.

“But I’m the rich one,” it’s your way of figuring out if he was teasing too, by doing so back and seeing what his reaction will be. Changmin seems amused and you relax in knowing that he wasn’t mocking you.

“What’s wrong with those flavours?”

“Nothing,” you draw out, staring back at the menu to decide on a coffee, “I’ll get a drink.”

Changmin seems to hesitate just briefly and realisation dawns on you. You’ve always looked down on him for having less money, for not affording things, but it didn’t cross your mind that he might not even be able to afford this. The issue then became that you had no idea how to delicately approach it.

“I’ll pay for it,” you tell him, but there’s surprise on his face and a hint of frustration, and you wonder if you read it all wrong.

“I’m not in poverty, you do know that, right?”

Honestly, you didn’t. It might’ve been embarrassing to admit but you weren’t quite sure at what point someone was considered within poverty because very often, your parents had shown you that even the most common ordinary people lacked money and therefore weren’t content in life. You had no real way of measuring what was really considered little. Hell, you barely knew what your family had in regards to wealth, because you rarely looked at the money you spent. You knew you always had it, so you spent it, without having to think about it.

In your mind, anyone that had to consider their spending was poor.

Sat here now with Changmin was probably the first moment in which you briefly think that might’ve been wrong. That maybe he was cautious with money but not without it. If he was without it, he would likely not be as inviting to sit with and dressed the way he was, even if you’d never buy clothes like the ones he wore.

“I’d still like to pay,” you offer, and you’re not really sure why. You’re here to give him this stupid bag that’s been weighing down on your mind all day as you chased after him, and maybe you’re also hoping to buy his silence on the fact that you cried before him and have done so twice now.

“I invited you here,” he was right. Usually, at least how you were raised, the one inviting the other is the one to pay unless otherwise agreed, which had never been the case for you before, yet it was now.

“And I’m telling you to let me pay.”

“You’re really demanding you know?”

You knew. It’s how you got what you wanted, to make demands rather than ask questions. Changmin seems displeased but he doesn’t argue with you, shrugging his jacket off to drape it over the chair before he gets up and waits.

“What?”

“You’re not coming with?”

“Just take my card. Three, five, seven, two,” you hold it out to him between your long manicured nails and he looks at you like you’re insane. It’s another reminder of how different you two are, of how giving him access to sums he’s never even seen or hoped to dream of meant absolutely nothing to you, because it really didn’t.

“Thanks?”

Changmin walks away, but it’s only brief before he’s turned back around to approach you, “which coffee did you want?”

“A latte macchiato,” he nods, leaving you alone with your thoughts again as you watch his back. The weather has since gotten worse, but it’s quite cosy from here, to simply watch the rain fall, the droplets chasing after one another from top to bottom, only to repeat over and over again in different patterns. The heating was on too, and it was quite comfortable to simply sit here.

The girl at the counter smiles at Changmin in a way that makes you want to turn away, not because someone flirting with him bothers you, but because you can’t believe how ridiculous she’s being in doing so. He’s here with you, and she’s practically begging for it.

Whatever she says, he seems polite but distant enough for her to straighten her posture and adjust her smile to a more professional one, and so you take that as a rejection on his part. You’re not sure why you find that so satisfying, that she didn’t get her way, but you’re happy about it regardless as he’s handed two ice cream cones that seem far more intricate than you’d expected.

It’s only when he comes closer that you realise that the ice cream has been layered together to form the shape of multiple rose petals and ultimately a flower, three separately assorted colours that make up the flavours you asked for, “they’re still making the coffees.”

“Thanks,” you take the ice cream from him carefully, admiring its shape and look. It’s beautiful, really, and it does put a gentle smile on your face as you manage a little laugh in amusement, “it’s pretty.”

You wonder if Changmin knew how they put the ice cream together. If maybe he suggested this place because he figured something as simple as an ice cream shaped like beautiful petals belonging to a rose would cheer you up or make you feel better for the absolute mess that had become your life. For the emotional turmoil you felt as you fell in importance and high regard in others’ eyes.

You mattered less to almost everyone you knew and it bothered you greatly.

Both of you fall silent, likely because neither of you have anything to say. There’s nothing to talk about, not between the two of you, and there’s no attempt at changing it either. Neither of you want to become friends, and yet here you both sit being friendly.

How strange the world worked sometimes.

“I’m sorry Juyeon’s such a dick to you,” it takes you by complete surprise to hear him speak, and whilst normally you’d find yourself frustrated to hear him even bring it up again, it’s oddly comforting to hear an opinion you agree with, albeit planned to have kept from Changmin. You want him to believe that things are perfect, that you and Juyeon are perfect, because you hold on to the false belief that maybe it would be.

“Juyeon’s just… a guy, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” you wonder why he says it. If he’s trying to tell you he’s better than Juyeon and if so, why it would matter. You have no interest in him and never would, so there was no need for Changmin to make himself better than the man you somehow spent still loving, despite all his horrifying flaws.

And there were many of them, and yet you still saw it with rose tinted glasses. Whilst aware of it, it mattered less to you.

“I don’t plan to ever have sex with you if-“

“That wasn’t an invitation,” again, your eyes roll almost instantly. He’s too good at being frustrating, and he sits there with his body leaned forward like he’s engaged in you while he takes a bite of his ice cream.

A bite.

“You’re insane. Why do you bite it?”

“It’s food?”

“It’s cold.”

“Why would I want to just lick it? I barely get any ice cream and then it melts.”

You watch as he bites into another petal and you push your body up a little to see what flavour it might’ve been.

“Vanilla,” he answers and you nod, sitting back with your one leg crossed over the other.

“Isn’t vanilla a little plain?”

“Is that a double entendre?”

It’s so easy to give up when the conversation is so static, so forced because you truly have nothing to talk about. What the hell do you both even have in common?

“I have a cat,” Changmin laughs and it’s a little unexpected, his smile so light and his dimples set deep in his cheeks. It’s an inviting smile, warm, and his tone of laughter is unique and suits him. There’s a childlike amusement to his features as he looks down at the table.

“I also have a cat,” you were curious to see her, or him, but you didn’t really want to ask. Both of you sharing photos of your pets over ice cream and coffee was a little bit too friendly, but you supposed there was now something you had in common, “but I don’t really like cats.”

Nevermind.

“Then why do you have one?”

He thinks, just for a minute as he drinks some of his coffee that had been brought over just a few short minutes before, and you must say now you really want to know why he has a pet he doesn’t even like.

“I found him on the streets. He was put in a box and it was raining. Wasn’t going to take him first because I didn’t want one. But when I went to call someone in the shop nearby, he’d somehow jumped out of the box and started to follow me. He just wouldn’t leave.”

It was unexpectedly sweet and very much something you would’ve never considered. Of course your cat was store bought, expensive and from a litter from a breeder that had done this for the past decade or two. Getting a cat of the streets, even if unintentionally was so out of your character, but you knew when to admit you found it to be kind of Changmin to have done so.

“You kept him?”

“I did. He’s very sweet.”

“Chanhee says my cat is a diva.”

“So she takes after you. Figures,” you could hit him, but you bite your tongue and try a new flavour of the ice cream petals. Coffee. Definitely.

The conversation dies again when it would be so easy to keep it going, but it’s like neither of you have any desire to do so. And yet, you find yourself far more at ease sitting here than you would’ve thought when you first agreed to it. You didn’t feel like you had to make up the silence that you both shared.

He seemed to share the same thoughts, though he didn’t often share eye contact with you. You weren’t sure if he was hesitant to or maybe he just didn’t want to look at you, but previous times you’d met him, he’d always been good at looking you in the eye. It was a little strange that he seemed to look everywhere else but at you now, unless you spoke.

“You smoke, right?” Painful. These occasional conversations littered into being sat here were just simply weird, but you watch as he grabs a bag of loose tobacco out of his jacket as well as some rolling paper and a filter.

“Didn’t you smoke straights last time?”

“You remember?”

Fuck.

“I didn’t forget you offering me one,” he shrugs and you watch as he distributes the tobacco onto the paper carefully between his jewellery adorned fingers. It was distracting and you could curse again for it, because he was doing it all effortlessly with one hand.

“You want one now?”

“I can do it…” he seems to hesitate though ultimately pushes the bag of tobacco over to your end of the table, and you fiddle with the cone of your ice cream between your one hand whilst figuring out how to do this with the other. Actually, how the fuck had Changmin done this?

“How did you-”

“Put it on the table first. You can roll with one hand,” he was definitely more confident in your abilities than you were, and maybe that was sweet but it was also giving you far more credit than you deserved.

You didn’t even want to admit that you couldn’t roll a cigarette at all. You always bought straights, the times you bought any at all. Doing it yourself seemed like extra effort for not much pay off.

You try to mirror Changmin, seeing how much tobacco he used and loosening up the dried leaves between your fingers the way he had done as they all clung together in the bag, then adding a generous amount to the paper you’d taken out of its flat packaging.

“Do you always smoke American spirit?”

“I tend to. Or marlboro. Why?”

You shrug, going back to what you’re doing but you very quickly realise you’ll need both hands. Watching him do it, pushing and pinching the thin paper together to tighten the tobacco with two fingers, maybe three at best, was ridiculous.

“Do you want me to hold your ice cream?”

At this point, you’re determined to prove both him and you that you can do this, when you know the reality is you can’t. Changmin doesn’t know that though, and how hard could it be to roll a cigarette, really?

“You can have it.”

“You have more than half left,” he frowns, putting his nearly rolled cigarette down on the table as he holds your ice cream, watching you and the way your fingers take both ends of the paper to pinch it together, “is it not good?”

“It’s nice. It’s not the flavour,” hopefully, he knows to drop the conversation. Though you look up and can tell by his expression that he likely wants to keep asking but you don’t see why you should need to justify it.

“You need to… no… you have too much,” he sighs, wanting to reach over but both his hands are occupied with both of your ice cream cones and so he can only sit trapped wishing to intervene as you try to make adjustments when he complains with no real instructions as to how you can do it better, “you’ve never done this before.”

“So I’ve been caught,” as if one of the cafe staff had noticed him struggling, they bring over a holder for two ice cream cones that are scattered on a few tables, yours not having been one of them.

“Thank you,” he redirects his attention to you, hands free, “look, I’ll teach you,” you scoff, crossing your arms as you’ve let go of the damaged bundle of tobacco in a scrunched up paper, looking between its state and back up at Changmin. You didn’t want him to teach you anything, because you didn’t think he had anything worth showing you. Yet at the same time, you didn’t enjoy not knowing how to do something, and if he was willingly prepared to show you how to actually do it, maybe you shouldn’t deny him.

“I don’t really smoke…”

“I won’t encourage you to,” he grabs another rolling paper, holding it out to you and you hesitate but ultimately take it between your fingers as he does the same, ignoring his near finished cigarette to start over, “but I smoke a lot, so I’ll take it off your hands if you don’t want it.”

“You’ll get cancer,” you’re disgusted but you don’t have much of a right to be. You smoke too and do far worse things. Every party could bring you to the brink of death if you aren’t careful enough with what you’re using, and yet you’re telling him he’s risking his life.

“Thanks, the packaging hadn’t told me,” you recognise Changmin’s sarcastic tone well by now, given that it’s the tone he mostly spoke to you in, but you also don’t retaliate this time. You had nothing to say, nothing to add that wouldn’t be another circular back and forth of neither of you ever getting to the point or settling a fight.

“The tobacco is quite tight, so you’ll have to loosen it with your fingers a little before you put it on the paper.”

“What about the filter?”

“It’s harder to roll with a filter. Try without first,” but you’re stubborn, and you grab a filter and bring it to one edge of the rolling paper before he can take it away from you. Sighing, he relents and grabs one too to demonstrate more accurately.

“You’re ridiculous,”

“And I won’t be caught dead smoking a non filtered cigarette.”

“You should try it. The nicotine high is amazing,” okay, so maybe you’d reconsider. You’d never thought of it, even if it was obvious, “you’re curious now.”

“I might be,” Changmin smiles and your cheeks feel a little warmer, but surely it’s the warm coffee and the indoor heating and not the fact that he looked at you with eyes that were gentle, like his happiness in showing you something wasn’t structured into an act of false behaviour.

Then you wonder why it makes any difference. If he wasn’t being genuine, did it matter?

He leans back over and slips the filter away from your paper, then adjusts and sits up a little straighter before his body moves back into your space to be a little closer to demonstrate.

“So, you loosen some of the tobacco between your fingers. This one is quite dry- and then you bring it onto the paper like so,” you follow his lead, though you could’ve managed this part on your own. This was the one part you’d done correctly without his help, “you want it to be pretty even but don’t worry about it not being perfect.”

“It has to be perfect,” he sighs, his head rolling down in defeat before he slowly looks back up at you.

“Perfection is an unattainable fantasy. Now take your fingers and move them to either edge and pinch while rolling it like so.”

You follow his lead though if you’re entirely honest, you have no idea how he makes it look so easy and effortless. His tobacco bunches together into a beautiful neat line perfectly, whilst yours is a disaster in which it falls or thins out too much on one end. It feels awkward and incorrect, the way you do it, and yet you’re following his exact instructions.

“You’re terrible at this.”

“Or you suck at teaching,” giving up was tempting, but showing Changmin defeat wasn’t an option. You wanted to get this, no matter how awful the end outcome would be.

“You have the ends. Move your fingers more into the middle to roll.”

“It doesn’t work like that!”

He looks exasperated, his glasses moving slightly as he raises his brows and huffs out in annoyance at your inability to do something he deemed simple, “you’re just bad at this. That’s okay.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not bad at things.”

“Just roll the paper over once you have the right shape. Wet the end and seal it and then you can tap the end against the table,” he shows you how, but he does it so quickly you barely manage to follow his movements. He’s amazing at it, you do have to admit, but you hate him for it because you want to be better. It’s irrational, because how realistic is it for you to be better at rolling a cigarette when you’d never done it before, when Changmin had probably done it for years?

“It’s not tight like yours though.”

“Just try. You have the movement right,” but it doesn’t feel right. It feels awkward and you might just blame it on your acrylics for not managing, but the end result is so pathetic that you’re surprise the cigarette even holds.

“It’s… a cigarette.”

“I’m not smoking that,” Changmin doesn’t seem surprised, but he does surprise you when he places his perfectly rolled cigarette right before you and takes yours instead, placing it behind his ear before retrieving his jacket and taking his melting ice cream, “you coming?”

Well, you suppose you were now.

You grab the bag with his hoodie in one hand, Changmin’s cigarette in the other as you follow him outside, leaving your ice cream to melt before it’s thrown away. It’s not unnoticed by him either, and he turns around to grab it between his fingers, “if you won’t have it, I will. You’re wasting money and good ice cream.”

“I’m watching my figure.”

“Why?”

He holds both cones in one hand with their remnants of sweet gelato, placing his cigarette between his lips and lighting it with one hand turned away from the storm and rain. The shop has an overhang to shield you both from direct downpour, but lighters are stubborn with wind and he seems to know it well.

His one worded question seems strange. It’s not worried, nor is it judgemental. At least you don’t perceive it to be. It’s simply confused, like he’s genuinely surprised that you would even bother at all.

“Because I want to be thin.”

Changmin wants to say something. You can tell he does, that there’s something right on his lips yet he doesn’t speak it. He resists words he probably knows you really don’t want to hear. He would be right, because any comments about your body aren’t welcomed unless they’re compliments that remind you of what you’ve worked for. All the times you don’t eat are rewarded with the acknowledgement of it.

“Here,” he holds out his lighter, the flame igniting right by your lips in which the cigarette is perched carefully, and you lean in enough and inhale so that it burns.

“Thanks.”

“You really are peculiar,” you don’t see how you are. From your point of view, he’s the abnormal one. He dresses cheap despite the school he attends, he doesn’t socialise, and he seems so ignorant to his surroundings and the importance of appearance, “I have to go.”

It takes you by surprise. Your thoughts had been so tangled and convoluted that you hadn’t seen him take his phone out, much less fumble with the ice cream, his cigarette and the device to answer whoever it was.

You wondered who it was.

“Who is it?”

You can’t help it. Call it morbid curiosity, even in regards to Changmin of all people, “I completely forgot I have a date.”

The thought of anyone going out with Changmin was a concept you weren’t ready to wrap your head around, but maybe if it was a girl he’d met online, she’d based it merely on appearance and even you wouldn’t fully be able to say that he was ugly. You knew he wasn’t, as much as it pained you to admit he was actually rather beautiful when he didn’t open his mouth.

“Is she cute?”

“She’s cute, yeah,” but he doesn’t seem excited. It almost feels like an insult to hear how he speaks about the prospect of his date. Were all men like this?

Had Juyeon been so disinterested when he first dated you?

“You’re going dressed like this?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Boy, he really wasn’t trying. It felt near cruel, because you were almost certain that the girl would be beautiful, and even if her physical appearance wasn’t as gorgeous, she would make up for it in every way with the way she chose to dress.

And Changmin was in casual attire, his hair had fallen to his face and he seemed tired.

“Poor girl.”

“It’s really not your business,” and then he discards his cigarette and grabs the bag you’d been holding without warning, practically ripping it out of your hand and the movement feels more aggressive than you’re used to from him. His tone could be harsh but his actions never were, and so it surprised you when he didn’t even ask to take it.

“Thank you for the hoodie.”

He doesn’t sound thankful at all. Changmin sounds annoyed, as he throws the little remnants of ice cream cone with next to no ice cream left, in the trash he passes as he walks away from you. You stand there, empty handed aside from the cigarette that was burning but barely smoked, and you honestly feel lost. You’re strangely confused and unsure, and you really don’t quite know why.

You felt like maybe you’d managed to really get under his skin, and if that were the case, you were sure it was the first time you’d ever managed it. Yet you’d expected it to feel different, to frustrate him enough to show true emotion in his anger and discontent towards you.

Instead it just felt like nothing.

You’re not sure what to make of Changmin. But you had bought a packet of loose tobacco and pink rolling paper to fiddle with in the comfort of your large bedroom. You were near naked, just out of your shower and only in underwear whilst you fiddled around with the cigarette in your hand. It was fucking difficult, and you’d probably gone through ten different videos on youtube teaching you how to do it. At least trying to, and each time you just failed to fully do it right.

Juyeon had called you and while you’d originally wanted to pick up and even thought to, by the time you made any attempt to move your hands, he’d already hung up.

Chanhee had also called though and you had picked up, asking how he was though he pushed for you to answer first, and you hadn’t known what to say. You felt fine yet simultaneously you felt strangely numb. It wasn’t that you didn’t care, it’s that Juyeon had worn you down. He’d broken something in you and collecting the pieces wasn’t possible because not all parts still existed.

Convincing yourself that it was over was difficult when Juyeon was right there to call back.

You wanted to.

It takes about ten failed attempts at rolling a cigarette before you manage one that’s just decent enough to smoke, and in your mind you wish to share your success with Changmin, since he was the one that had witnessed your inability to do it in the first place. You wanted to prove a point, as petty and unimportant as it was. You could roll a damn cigarette.

But you’d rather roll over in your grave than ask anyone for his phone number. If anyone even had it. He’d said he was supervising a friend the night you first really spoke to him but you’d yet to see him talking with anyone at all. Who was Changmin friends with, if anyone at all?

The question dwelled on you curiously. You didn’t think he’d lied to you that night, you had to at least give him the benefit of his annoying ability to always speak what you assumed to be his truth. He didn’t care of the consequence or if it hurt, and you supposed maybe that was where your one similarity lay.

If you hurt someone, it didn’t really matter as long as it made you look good.

“Dear? Could I come in?”

Your mother being home was unexpected. Her knocking on your bedroom door to ask if she could come in was even stranger. It made you worry, and you quickly discarded all your rolled cigarettes in a drawer as well as any other damning evidence aside from the one now considered a masterpiece to show off. You placed it behind your ear and straightened your posture, “yeah?”

“You need to draw the curtains,” she criticised, walking over to the massive window to give you far more than you bargained for with the natural sunlight despite the depressing clouds, “and we do not smoke indoors.”

“I’m not smoking it!”

“Attitude,” you want to sigh but you’re sure that runs in the same category as what she’d just warned you about in your tone, so you bite your tongue and just wait to hear what she wants.

“I’ve been told you’ve missed a lot of your classes.”

“By who?”

“We had dinner with the Lee’s. Juyeon expressed his concern over you. Why you ever broke up with that handsome young man is beyond me, Y/N,” yeah, it was beyond you too, at this point. Clearly you were the fucking idiot, as everyone so rightfully had begun to assume. Juyeon was the perfect man, one most girls would probably dream of and you had him. You had him, and you wasted the opportunity to be happy with him.

And what for?

“I know, mother.”

“You should come with this time. Maybe you can both make up before we go on that lovely vacation together.”

“What…?”

She stands by the edge of your bed with condescending eyes that look down on you and make you feel small, which was ironic because your mother was about a head shorter than you and incredibly petite, but her personality was so in your face, her stare so cold that it made you feel like nothing. She made you feel insignificant and she did so perfectly.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten? You’ve always been forgetful,” you cast your eyes down to your lap, listening to her berate you and having no real way of defending yourself without it earning you a slap or worse.

“I’m sorry. Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Go on a walk. You could go to the docks on one of the boats. I don’t care. But stop missing classes because I will not have a failure of a child when she gets everything handed to her,” it stings. It really stings to be insulted so genuinely. Your grades were by no means terrible and your mother rarely cared before about any of your stupid behaviour, but you supposed as soon as your mask slipped and you fell towards lower status, she could sense it like a blood hound and she was intent on destroying you to a point in which you’d need to remodel yourself to be perfect again.

You were grateful for her, because she knew how to shape you into someone you wanted to be.

“And invite Juyeon if you’re taking the boat out!”

She leaves without another glance your way and you feel like nothing, but you also call Juyeon, so you suppose her harsh words and loveless demeanour worked. They worked at beating you down and you listened to her, but you couldn’t say you weren’t at least a little relieved when Juyeon didn’t pick up at first.

“What?”

Damn it.

“You called me first.”

“And now you’re calling me back,” it felt like a game. It was constant at this point and it never felt healthy and yet you knew no better. You weren’t dumb but Juyeon had an incredible way of making you appear to be the greatest idiot.

“My mother wants us to take the boat out,” you wait for a response, not hearing one first until there’s shuffling on the other line.

“Just us?”

“Well, she likes you,” you add, which you knew would work well for his bruised ego. Juyeon loved being told he was liked and you knew how to feed into it well. You’d spent years learning the intricacies that made up Lee Juyeon, and you doubted that would ever fully go away. You weren’t sure if you wanted it to go at all.

“Have you told her why I haven’t been around?”

“You could always tell her yourself. She hates me enough, you can’t make it worse,” you hear him on the other end and you hope he feels bad for you. You want him to, even if it’s just for a little moment.

“That’s just not as fun,” he breaks your illusioned disbelief that he could be sympathetic towards you and you wish yet again for your remaining feelings to go away.

Instead, you decide to be stupid and slip up.

“I really loved you.”

The silence is so painfully long you could honestly throw yourself out the two story window of the view your mother had just revealed to you moments before.

“You don’t love me anymore?”

The way you fell into his traps was so effortless. Juyeon wasn’t having to really try and yet you fell right into his hand every time without fail. You were so drawn to him and you couldn't tell for what reason. Because in truth you didn’t really see yourself as wanting a relationship with him, he was an asshole and yet you ran in circles because you somehow still liked him despite it all.

“Juyeon…”

“Do you love me?”

He asks it again and the question is a demand for you to answer and yet it doesn’t come naturally to you the way you want it to. It feels false, maybe because you know you’re walking yourself into a trap. Yet the trap being laid out for you to see doesn’t hinder you any less from falling into it because of the reward you see in the midst of it.

“I love you.”

“Then why don’t we celebrate?”

A yacht party was not at all what you had in mind when celebrating your pathetic attempt at clearing your image by being back on Juyeon’s side. But Juyeon had insisted and your mother had somehow overheard at some point and was practically beaming just at the prospect of Juyeon being back on one of your family boats. Her timing was masterful and you hated everything about it.

You also hated the looks you were getting, judgement, whilst Juyeon was on the opposite end of the yacht gleaming and taking in every ounce of sympathy like it fed him. He’d so graciously forgiven you, told everyone that it was an honest mistake and that he understood you both were over, and now everyone stood at his feet as if ready to do any and all of his bidding.

It was insufferable.

“I think he likes attention more than you,” Chanhee mumbles, standing next to you now with a champagne flute between his delicate fingers and you turn to him with a frown on your face.

“I think it’s pathetic.”

“I’d agree,” your best friend leans back a little, staring into the dark water as night time beams above you in the shape of a crescent moon, “but you go for it every time.”

“I’m not here for a lecture,” you have a sip of your drink, grimacing at the strength of it. You’d been a little too generous on the rum, even for your standards, but you need the alcohol if you’re going to get through this night out on open water.

“Have you seen the new kids?”

Chanhee nudges you towards another direction, one that has two younger men downing a glass of something each, and being urged on to do so by Younghoon and Hyunjae. Juyeon was now talking to a girl you didn’t care to know the name of, but he occasionally glanced over too.

“Freshmen?”

“Mhmm, one of them is kinda cute, no?”

You give your best friend an odd look before glancing back over. They both look young, not older than twenty, playful and energetic and so full of life that you wonder when that’ll go away. You wonder when both of them will realise the world is dark and being so carefree was simply being naive.

“Which one?”

Chanhee gestures to the one on the left, with dark hair and full lips that you’re sure has made girls jealous in the past, and if not jealous, at least more than willing to kiss him. He seemed to know it too, because something about him felt cocky and maybe even arrogant, despite his sweet playful smile and loud laugh that you could hear from this far away.

The other, a striking blonde colour of hair that he’d definitely bleached with a sharp pointed nose that seemed surgical, making you wonder if he’d invested in a nose job as soon as he’d turned eighteen. It wouldn’t surprise you if he had, for if it was real it was almost absurdly perfect.

“Juyeon invited them?” Chanhee shrugs, though given that neither you nor your best friend seemed to have any clue on who they were and had no influence on them showing up, you were almost certain it was Juyeon. It was near confirmed when your recent lover approached the blonde and wrapped an arm over his shoulder, ruffling through his hair playfully though you could see the roughness in his grip.

It’d surely be blamed on boys being boys.

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you say, and you can see Juyeon’s eyes meet yours as you do. He detaches from the blonde and approaches you, and god do you wish it wasn’t noticeable to everyone that he was doing so.

“Little princess,” he leans against the railing, watching as you pour yourself more rum but in truth you are ready to down the whole bottle when he talks to you, “why’re you frowning?”

“Did you invite freshmen?”

“Who? Oh- you mean Sunwoo and Eric? I did, yeah. They’re cute, right?”

There had to be a motive. You didn’t trust Juyeon to have pure intentions and simply so graciously bring a pair of freshmen onto a party such as this. There was no way in hell Juyeon would introduce someone into his social circle without gaining something out of it. Especially someone younger than him.

“What’re you doing with them?”

“I’m thinking a sex party?” you laugh because it’s absurd, but Juyeon laughs too because he’s managed to humour you and it’s nice. It’s nice to laugh with someone you consider close, someone that is similar to you and that understands the importance of status and appearance.

“Now what is it actually?”

Juyeon looks over, seeing his friends and the two in question playing around with a lighter and the not lit outdoor fireplace. At least not lit yet, given that they were clearly trying. Hyunjae was sat on the circular couch, Younghoon lying next to him, Sunwoo standing and berating Eric who was hunched over trying to light the coal, “he needs ignition.”

“I’ll go grab it for him.”

Juyeon leaves you standing there with a bad feeling. Drunk people around a fire, intoxicated people in general around live flames was a recipe for disaster. Yet you weren’t stopping it. Maybe because you knew it wouldn’t be you to fall into it.

Chanhee had joined them, sat next to Hyunjae with his legs curled under his thighs as he held a new glass in hand, looking so delicate and regal he felt most like royalty out of all of you. He was so beautiful, it made you jealous again. It was worse, too, to know that he had naturally just formed to be this way, whilst your parents had discretely paid for your nose to be fixed, your breasts to be augmented and to have some leftover fat dissolved to appear even smaller.

Not that you’d outright admitted it to anyone, though you were sure those who’d known you long enough, knew that a part of you simply wasn’t real anymore, because reality wasn’t pretty and you wanted to be.

Juyeon joined them a few seconds after with lighter fluid, thankfully not being too generous with how much he coated the charcoal in. At least he seemed sober, more than anyone else that was sat there, and you watched Eric attempting to light the flames again, this time successful in sparking a fire that jumped high enough to nearly hit his face, making him jump back in surprise and panic at the thought of getting burned.

Unbelievable.

You walked over to them and sat down at the very edge, Eric turning his attention to you with a bright smile that surprised even you. He seemed energetic and sweet, but why he was so open to you simply coming over was a strange feeling. Juyeon noticed it too, and before you realised, he’d moved to sit between you both.

“Are you jealous?” Juyeon looks at you with a forced smile, shaking his head before having more of his drink and turning his attention to you.

“I have no reason to be,” he answers, and you suppose he’s right though just the same you wish for him to be, “I’m not the jealous type.”

It felt like a lie. Juyeon’s characteristics that made up who he was were all fairly negative and jealousy was one of them. But then he’d have ways in which he showed kindness with gentle touches and you fell into it because those touches were warm and those words were sweet.

“Not like me, right?”

You attempt a joke you both know to be true. You could easily get jealous, because the prospect of having romantic competition made you feel worthless, like you weren’t good enough, and so anger came naturally whenever your worth was threatened.

“Not like you,” he has more of his drink and you drown out the conversation, watching the way your best friend cuts up two lines of cocaine with Sunwoo now, as if he’d made a quick natural friend and you’re just at the very edge being forgotten. It’s the feeling of unimportance and being replaced that bothers you, and instead you focus on the fire right in front of you. It’s enchanting and beautiful, tempting enough to fall into because it’s warm and inviting.

It’s dangerous too and that isn’t lost on you, but you still lean a little closer, being careful to push your hair back whilst you watch the flames. You’re in a little world, one none of them are in and you honestly don’t think they ever really noticed how close you’d gotten to the fire, which ends up being the big mistake.

You’re not sure what happens, but the flames make a crackling sound and the fire rises so incredibly close to your face, you feel the heat sting at your skin. It sends you into high alert and panic, causing you to scream and turn around just quick enough to avoid it burning your face. Unfortunately, the wind and your hair among the flames causes the strands to start burning.

“What the fuck, Eric!”

“We need to put it out!” Chanhee. That’s his voice and the only one you can make out. The others barely seem to move and you’re not sure if it’s shock or because they don’t care, but Chanhee is genuinely the only one moving at first.

You can feel the way it hurts your skin, but it all happens so fast that the pain barely registers with the way the back fabric of your dress singes.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Chanhee, again, but then you feel another force that sends you falling forward and the sound of a fire extinguisher.

“YOU’RE NOT MEANT TO USE THAT ON A PERSON!”

So many voices, complete panic and you barely register any of it. You feel dazed, nearly unresponsive and it’s likely the shock settling in that just leaves you numb to it. At least the fire seems to be out, given the darkness that had cast over all of you. Your skin feels cold at first, until you feel a heavy blanket over your shoulder and Juyeon crouches in front of you.

He’s speaking to you, but you really have no idea what he’s saying. Even when he cups your cheeks, it’s completely lost on you. Nothing he says is audible and for just a brief second you wonder if maybe you’d entirely lost your hearing, though you don’t see why you would and you’d heard voices just seconds before.

You feel him touch your hair and you’re relieved more than anything to know it’s still there at first. The very relief of knowing that makes you want to cry, but you refuse to show any of them that you were scared.

“She needs a hospital. Turn the boat around,” you hate attention like this. When you’re vulnerable, it’s not what you want.

“How bad is it…?”

You sound hoarse, but Juyeon doesn’t get time to answer because Eric intervenes with panicked eyes. He looks so genuinely guilty, like a kicked puppy and you know almost immediately that deep down it was likely a genuine mistake. Though it didn’t really matter as the damage was done either way, “I’m so, so sorry. I’m really sorry.”

You don’t think you forgive him. Even if he looks sorry, you’re more than a little upset, rightfully so, “I can’t believe you’re so fucking stupid. Who’re you trying to impress, anyway?”

It cuts him, you can tell. That childlike energy that had been there before dies the second you speak to him like he means nothing. Eric looks like he could cry and you’re certain you don’t really care but something about his eyes make you feel guilty. And you don’t do well with guilt.

You force yourself up and away from everyone, pushing past Younghoon harshly because you can see him trying to bite down laughter. You’re near close to slapping him, but you don’t want even more unwanted attention.

You hide away in the bathroom and no one seems to follow you first, locking the door after yourself before stripping down to your underwear, discarding your heels and letting your feet rest bare against the tiled interior. Every bit of sound is slowly coming back, and you seem to be returning to your senses as you cast your eyes outside through the small circular window, seeing the distant city and the water break into aggressive ripples of small waves.

You run your hands through your hair, trying to adjust the mess that it probably was before you realise that certain strands come to an abrupt harsh stop. It feels uneven, shortened and burned and that’s when you first notice the smell that becomes so sharp so suddenly that it overwhelms you.

You open your palm up to be met with charcoals of black burnt hair that you’d broken trying to brush through it with your fingers and now you’re completely certain that you fucking hate Eric. He’d ruined your appearance, and it’s only confirmed when you look in the mirror and are met with something so ugly, you could break the glass in front of you.

So you do. You break down and shatter the mirror because what you see disgusts you. A part of what had made you so feminine and pretty was scorched unevenly, in parts up to your shoulder, and it was so ugly and heart wrenching you could’ve thrown up just remembering what it looked like.

It was so ugly and unattractive and the worst was knowing that everyone else had seen it before you. They had seen it, and said nothing. Juyeon had touched your strands of hair near the root and yet said nothing to indicate that a part of it was missing by the ends of where your hair usually fell.

You can’t take seeing it, and in your slightly intoxicated mind it makes you sink enough that you throw up into the toilet, hating yourself more than you ever had. It would take years to grow back the hair you’d lost, and worst was that you’d have to let go of the length that some strands still held. The ones that went unscathed and were still perfect would be lost just the same.

It was so embarrassing.

Your hand was bleeding, shards of broken glass between the knuckles but you made no attempt to get rid of them. You could’ve been dying and it would’ve meant nothing to you.

A knock on the door snaps you out of your dazed mind but you don’t respond. You hope maybe they’ll go away, but then there’s another knock followed by a third in quick succession, “want a line?”

Chanhee. You laugh at the way he speaks and then you soften because he’s there, standing on the other side and looking for you. So with the little strength you can bother to conjure up, you unlock the door for him.

“Holy shit,” it’s not you being naked that really surprises him, but rather the utter damaged state this room was in, “your parents are gonna kill you.”

“Fuck, I didn’t even think about that,” you groan, watching your best friend lock the door once more before grabbing a towel and turning on the faucet, the water presumably cold.

“I hear Juyeon’s pissed,” Chanhee starts, and it manages a smile out of you just briefly as he comes over, “Eric feels horrible, though.”

“He should,” you snarl, watching the way Chanhee grabs a pair of tweezers from his purse, disinfecting it with a wipe before grabbing your hand.

“Should I book you a hairdresser?”

You know he’s trying to lighten the mood, but you don’t find it funny. You don’t say anything as he starts to remove some of the glass from your skin, carefully and precise as to not cause you more injury. He seems to get the hint, that you’re not in the mood for anything lighthearted, so he stops and falls silent that only you break after a few minutes.

“I’m ugly, Chanhee.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll get a cute haircut and you’ll be perfect again.”

Even if that were to be true, you’d never be Chanhee. You felt so jealous, the more you thought of it. So much so, that you wanted to hate him. You wanted to tell him how unfair it was, that he didn’t deserve it when you did, but you would never dare to break what made you two so close. You loved him.

“I don’t want a haircut. I want my hair.”

“I know,” but he says it like you should know that it’s not an option. You do know, and it makes you want to die inside.

Another knock and a voice you make out to be Juyeon’s, so you let Chanhee reach over and unlock the door as a familiar figure leans in with a smirk on his face. Maybe it’s seeing you sat here naked, but you turn your head away to avoid looking at him, “ambulance is here. We’ve docked.”

Chanhee finishes getting one more piece of glass out and helps you up, Juyeon handing you your dress and helping you with your shoes, touching your bare legs so carefully that it makes you feel a little shaky. He smiles, looking up at you with sweet gentle eyes that are so unlike him and once again bring in the idea of a motive to your mind, “your mothers gonna kill you for that glass, by the way.”

Everything else after the boat docked had become a blur. You had some mild burns but your now ruined dress had protected most of the flames before they were put out, so most of the marks were faint angry red shades on your back that would likely fade over time if you kept it well treated and applied an ointment to avoid scarring. You’d been grateful that it hadn’t been worse but the state you were in didn’t quite feel better.

Your hand wasn’t broken, but one of the gashes had been pretty bad unbeknownst to you and it had needed five stitches, everything being wrapped up in a bandage as you were told to rest a couple of days.

You’d wanted to rest, but the following morning, your mother had other ideas.

“Juyeon tells me you had an accide- my god, what happened to your hair?”

“I burned it off,” came your response, feeling your blanket being ripped away from you, your bare legs being met with the cold air as you tried to adjust your shirt.

“Why in heaven's name would you ever do that?” God, you could laugh. She clearly didn’t know you, if she ever thought you’d do such a stupid thing intentionally.

“I’ll get it sorted,” though you’d made no attempt at making an appointment. As long as the outside world didn’t see you, you could be as ugly as you wanted.

“You, young lady, are headed to class,” she slaps the bottom of your leg before running over to your beloved curtains, tearing them open and letting the offensive light blind you, “you’ve missed far too much already.”

“I’d rather die than go looking like this,” you mutter, earning you another slap to your skin that makes you sit up sharply and glare at her with such discontent, she must know that you hate her.

“Should’ve made an appointment in the morning then. You can fix it later, but you’re going, now.”

There was no point in arguing. Even with a valid doctor's note, it was pointless. She’d make you go to uni and whatever you said would be entirely without point because it wasn’t valid. It didn’t matter. The best you could do was attempt to look presentable despite your singed hair and then run to your family's go to salon for help right after.

You made sure to wear something revealing. Something hopefully distracting enough so that the hair you’d tied up in a bun, wouldn’t be very noticeable. You actually thought you managed to hide it with fair success, but you had to pull out nearly every trick you knew about a tight ballerina bun to hide most of the damage. The biggest issue was the damaged strands being so short in length sometimes, that they kept falling back out and refusing to lay the way you wanted them to.

Your mother had already left the house by the time you were ready, in a tight mini skirt and a shirt kept together by string in the middle, showing plenty of skin all the way down to your pierced navel. It was just enough to grab attention away from everything else that needed fixing.

Getting to class made you realise just how much people talk. As if the vitriol from Juyeon humiliating you with Changmin’s name hadn’t been bad enough, now everyone seemed to know about your burns and the bandage on your hand didn’t help either. You’d overheard someone say that they thought you’d gone off the rails, making you shove your shoulder against theirs so that they fell off balance.

But that girl hadn’t been the only one to say it. It felt like everyone was looking at you again, like this was high school and your dirty little secrets were all exposed to be mocked and tormented until you well and truly became the off the rails mess that they already claimed for you to be. The looks were horrific, but the fake sympathy in trying to speak to you was worse.

Though you’d truly wanted to lose it when you overheard the sympathy Eric was getting. How sorry he’d been and how it had been such a horrible accident. How bad he felt, that you’d rejected his apology and been so cruel to him. That you were truly a horrible person. Even if it might’ve been true that Eric felt bad, he had hurt you, and yet no one spared any real empathy for you. No one cared.

You had one more class for the day but a long gap in between where you’d need to find something to do, and so you settled on the park nearby with a small lunch and a coffee, having a sip before you reached for the tobacco in your bag.

You still wouldn’t call yourself a smoker, but you could use one now and it was still practice and improvement from the absolute travesty you had rolled before. Besides, you found it peaceful, to sit there and roll a cigarette to then smoke or save for later.

“It’s getting better,” you look up and see Changmin already with a cigarette between his lips, placing it between his fingers to move it down and away from his mouth as he exhales. He’s dressed warm, in a dark sweater and jeans with a coat over both, his eyes staring at your own as he takes you in, “you want help?”

“I don’t need your help.”

“I didn’t ask if you needed it. I asked if you wanted it,” you were struggling and he could tell. Your hand still hurt from injuring it and it made rolling even more awkward, so eventually you relented and just shoved the bag of tobacco out for him to take. He sighs and sits next to you, turning his body a bit towards you as he discards his own cigarette entirely in favour of starting over.

“Why’d you waste it?”

“Well, I figured if I offered it to you, you’d refuse it,” he was right, “I’ll roll two.”

Normally you’d be tempted to argue and fight with him using your stuff, but you have no energy and he was kind enough to share with you last time. You watch him, the way his fingers work together to roll the first cigarette, and you can’t say you’re not entranced because you are. The way he does it makes it all seem so easy.

He seals the first cigarette with his tongue before placing it behind his ear, and you swear for the first time you saw a hint of jewellery, “do you have a piercing?”

“I have more than one,” he gets to work on the next one, looking over at you briefly as you try not to stare too obviously. You’d seen the ones on his ear but the one on his tongue had been new to you.

“I never noticed.”

“We don’t really talk,” he hands you your cigarette and you nod in thanks, twisting it between your fingers once to inspect it before placing it between your lips. You end up fiddling with your lighter, huffing in frustration each time it refuses to light. The wind worked against you and it seemed low on lighter fluid already, but still you persisted.

“Here,” his cigarette is lit, and he places the burning side against yours, “just inhale.”

You listen to him and the flames transfer to your cigarette when you do, thanking him again, though you’re not sure why he didn’t just offer you his lighter instead, “I had it.”

“Sure,” you both fall silent again and you must admit it’s getting a little bit annoying to have nothing to really talk about. It seems so pointless, like it holds no real purpose and yet there’s a comfort in just being sat here and clearing your head.

“What did you do with your hand?”

“You’re telling me you haven’t heard?” you don’t believe it. Changmin might not socialise but he does hear about things. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been so wrapped up in the last one. Or maybe that one only reached him because it directly involved him.

“Isn’t it better to hear the truth from you?” he surprises you again. You hadn’t really thought of it that way. In your eyes, people were always quick to believe what they were told from others whether or not it was the truth. Especially from those whose words held more weight simply because of who they were. And if someone like Younghoon, who you suspected, was running around telling people you were insane, they were bound to believe it without fact checking his claims at all.

“I broke a mirror,” he laughs, as if it’s amusing to hear about your screw up and you wonder if it would be worth hitting him again.

“You really are something else, even for a rich person,” you want to know if that surprises him. If he’s as confused by you as you are by him and his strange behaviour. He seems to bite back less in sarcasm today, but he still speaks like he’s unimpressed, unphased by your violent outburst and rather finding it amusing.

You stare at him for a long time, taking in his side profile up close. The way his glasses frame his face, how his dimples aren’t as deep but still there because he’s trying to bite back his amusement in a smile that you find pretty, even if you won’t say it. He takes another drag of his cigarette, then turns his attention back to you, though it quickly falls from your face to your hair as he gestures to it, “and this? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair up.”

“You pay attention to things like that?”

“Unintentionally, yes.”

“But you don’t notice it’s burnt?”

“Oh, no, I noticed it,” of course he did. He was probably waiting for the opportunity to tug your hairpins out so he could see the disaster that is your hair. It probably didn’t matter, really, if he saw it, but you liked the belief that you could remain beautiful, at least in someone's eyes, regardless of who they were.

Then again, Changmin might not find you pretty at all.

“I wasn’t meant to come today but my mother told me to. I haven’t been able to fix it,” you’re not sure why you’re honest, especially to him, but he doesn’t really say anything at first while he continues smoking, “I don’t know why I’m even telling you this.”

“Neither do I,” god, what an asshole. He simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut and accept it, “is it true a freshmen burned it off?”

“So you did hear about it?”

“I saw him getting coddled in the hallway. I think a girl brought him flowers,” of course she did. He gets flowers and you get to drop a couple of hundred at the hairdresser to salvage what’s left. You’re not even sure you want to go at all and be faced with the vitriol.

“I really don’t need our family hairdresser to tell the whole community about my hair being charcoal black because of a drunk night out.”

“You have a family hairdresser?” it’s like it’s the most absurd thing you’ve said, stranger than your hair being burnt by an open flame, or the fact that you smashed a mirror and your mother dragged you out anyway, or the countless other things, actually, that you’d said and he hadn’t really cared to comment on.

“You focus on the wrong things.”

“And all you focus on is superficial at best,” you wonder what he considers the worst, “so you’re not going to get it fixed?”

No, you are going to get it fixed. That’s what you want to tell him, that of course you’re going to drag your ass there right after your final lesson is over. That it’ll be perfect again tomorrow and you will be perfect and you can forget all about it. Maybe you can even forgive Eric if you’re feeling extra generous, although you don’t think you will be.

“I will. I just… have to find another hairdresser. I don’t really know how to do that.”

“Google it?” you grimace, eyeing him strangely yet he looks at you like you have three heads. Like something is seriously wrong with you and you wonder if he’s right or if he just has no concept of the real world.

“I don’t want them to say something.”

“I doubt they care,” Changmin offends you, but he says it nonchalantly and casually as he puts out his cigarette and discards the filtered end, “let me do it.”

“I’d rather die than let you touch me,” it’s a quick answer, snapping back at him with determination because you really would rather sign an early death than let him any closer than he already is just sitting here next to you.

“But I don’t care about how ridiculous you might look,” so he admits you probably look insane. You know better than to believe that he wouldn’t laugh at you, yet you also wonder if maybe that was better than it being spoken around your closed community and bringing embarrassment to your parents for your drunk failings. They didn’t care what you did if it didn’t affect them, yet this might and therefore it became a bigger problem.

“Do you even know how to cut hair?”

“How hard can it be?”

“Absolutely not,” you think that’s the end of it, but you hadn’t known Changmin to be so determined with something such as this, for he seems persistent in making a case for himself as he turns to you fully.

“I think you should think about it.”

“You could make it worse. You have no idea what you’re doing and you hate me too,” he doesn’t disagree with it, though he does seem to think. Perhaps another way of making his case though you really don’t know what could convince you when you had money at your fingertips to even fly halfway across the globe for someone to fix it for you.

Which, actually, might’ve not been a bad idea. No one would know you abroad.

“I wouldn’t cut it any more than where the strands are burnt.”

“No.”

“Fine, at least let me see it.”

“Absolutely not,” he huffs like a child, watching the clouds pass while the sky dims to a depressing grey, indicating rainfall. You don’t need to be laughed at, especially by someone lesser than you.

“I have to go,” you want to ask him how his date went. You remember it now that he goes to leave. Yet you also know not to ask him. The last thing you wanted was his assumption that you might be interested in him, “you can think about it.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“Suit yourself, little doll,” he leaves you alone and you simply stay sat with a frown on your face until the raindrops start falling and you’re forced to go inside.

They had all been right. You’d lost your mind, completely, because the hairdresser you had found completely destroyed your ends even more and you refused to let yourself be seen by anyone until it was fixed. Like a dog with his tail between his legs, you drove to university without the intent of actually going to class, but rather waited like a stalker for Changmin to appear at some point, because he had to, right?

It took far longer than you’d hoped, because the first time he had appeared, there were far too many people around for you to give in to his suggestion of doing it himself, but turns out paying for it to have it done professionally hadn’t done much of a difference and had been far from worth it.

The second time he came out, he had his nose in a book and was barely watching where he was going, and you figured it would be the perfect time to step out and talk to him. You’d still dressed up, albeit not as much as you usually might to avoid detection, when you approach him and stand right before him.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head not moving up to look at you as he keeps walking. You felt ridiculous chasing him, but you grabbed his shoulder and stopped him in his steps, finally looking up to face you, “oh, it’s you.”

“What do you mean, oh?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. What the fuck happened to your hair?” Changmin asks, seeing that you kept it out but hidden under the hood of your jacket, and he could still see the damaged parts as you’d eventually gotten up mid hair appointment to leave before she could finish and do any worse.

“Someone fucked it up, obviously. Are you stupid?”

“No, but your insults when you want something from me are a poor choice,” you cross your arms, standing straighter to look down on him, heels just tall enough to do so while he adjusts and closes his book, “so, what is it?”

“I… need your help,” fuck, that pains you. It really kicks your ego and confidence to have to ask something of him. Well, not that you had to, but you were refusing the family hairdresser even more now and if Changmin fucked up too, at least his services were free.

“You want my help?”

“You offered it,” you bite back, but he doesn’t seem pleased. If he was taking his offer back, you felt like he should just say so, but instead he was smiling as he lit a cigarette.

“That I did,” he was so cocky, it reminded you of Juyeon, “I guess I could give it a try.”

“You said you would.”

“I said I can do it if you’d like me to try.”

“And I’m telling you to.”

“But you should be asking me.”

“Changmin, you think I haven’t been through enough embarrassing shit because of you? You owe me this fucking favour before I break your neck with my heel.”

He stops entirely, eyeing you up and down briefly before he finally settles on your eyes again. It’s a little intimidating to have him stare at you so intently, but you refuse to show discomfort and stand your ground. He fucking owed you this and you knew that he did. He did owe it to you, at the very least for the rumour involving you and Juyeon.

“Okay, sure. But I’m driving.”

He discards his cigarette and holds out his hand for the key, and you really think he’s joking before he gives you another look telling you to hurry up.

“Are you serious?”

“Think of it as payment,” it’s crazy to you but you ultimately agree. Curse you for not using your driver for one day, but why should you when you weren’t even planning to attend classes. It just left another witness to tell your parents that you had been faltering in the one thing they expected you to do well on.

“I hate you,” his hands hold the key to your Mercedes and he seems content, and you watch as he steps up inside your car so carelessly that it makes you nearly cry out to tell him off.

When you get in, he leans over and places his bag down by your feet and you note that same cologne that had sat on his hoodie that you took so long ago. A creature of habit, whereas you went through various perfumes depending on the type of outfit you were wearing.

“Can you be more careful? The interior is custom.”

“Of course it is,” he adjusts the seat and you realise what a bad idea this really was because everything he changes now, you’ll have to change back, but it was too late. He settled and reversed the car far faster than you would’ve liked, barely looking in his rearview mirror to see if he’d hit someone.

“Do you even know how to drive?”

“It’s an automatic. Even an idiot can drive one. Exhibit A,” he looks at you and you ignore it by looking ahead before he abruptly hits the breaks because someone crosses the parking lot completely unexpectedly, “god, some people just want to die.”

“Do you even have a licence?”

The silence confirms your expected fear and you cannot believe you just put your life in his hands. You wish you could hit the brakes, but he’s turned into the main road and now you’re wondering if you’ve well and truly lost your mind. You can practically hear Chanhee’s voice berating you for the insanity that you’re currently in.

“Where am I going, by the way?”

“I guess my house,” he sighs, and your hand instinctively falls to the wheel to pull him more to the right to avoid the left lane.

“Yeah, and where is that?”

“Oh, right. I’ll write it in the nav,” he scoffs like it’s absurd, but you’re not really in the mood to give instructions and honestly you didn’t think you’d be very good at it. You knew the way well and your mind would naturally think where to turn without saying it outloud.

“You’re driving too fast,” at this point you’d fully accepted your potential demise, because making him pull over seemed like an almost worse idea at this point.

“I thought it was sixty.”

“It’s fifty,” you answer him, and at least he listens and slows down, maybe because being caught meant you’d both be in horrific trouble.

There’s no music and the silence in such close proximity isn’t exactly your idea of fun, but it’s becoming a little more familiar than you’d like to be like this with Changmin. It wasn’t that you liked him or enjoyed his company, but the way you both sat together without speaking had become a little common, at least enough that you found it to be okay.

“This cannot be real,” he mumbles, the gates to your community closed before you hand him the keycard. He looks at it like it’s alien, but he opens the window and reaches for the keypad to open the gate, “I actually hate rich people.”

He doesn’t sound genuine, more baffled if anything as he drives in and over to your house. His eyes just widen more as he parks outside the front steps leading to the massive entrance door, but you’re more relieved that you survived driving as a passenger with someone that had no right to even take you anywhere with a car, “I was gonna say park in the garage but I suppose you can leave it.”

“I think I’m good, yeah.”

You step out with him, taking the key back as soon as he lets it dangle between his fingers for you to take, and you walk in with him and greet one of your cleaners that seems more than a little surprised to see you with someone. Normally you might make an attempt to hide who you were with, but she was nice and didn’t speak often, especially to your parents unless it was work related, so you knew her to not be the type to say something.

You really hoped, anyway, or you were definitely fucked.

“Do you have scissors for cutting hair?”

“I think we do somewhere. I’ll ask someone,” though Changmin doesn’t seem to be listening, because his eyes are cast elsewhere and you notice your little ragdoll perched on the railing and looking at him with curious eyes.

“Oh, look at this little cutie,” he approaches her carefully, holding his hand out gently but she seems more than a little excited, which you find unusual, though maybe she sensed his compliment to stroke her little ego.

“Thought you didn’t like cats?”

“How can I not when I see this little dear, hmm?”

She purrs in response, pushing her head up into his palm as he scratches her ear, and you nearly roll your eyes at seeing her unusual affection. She liked Chanhee, sure, but even that had taken some time, but with Changmin she’s practically on his lap within the first minute.

“Do you have any treats for her?”

“Sure, they’re in my room. Or the kitchen.”

He follows after you, the little lady prancing after him like she’s straight out of the aristocats, elegant in how she moves and so confident in her step. Lady really is a diva.

“They’re on the desk,” you gesture over to the corner and Changmin moves over to find them, but he’s slow and looking around like he’s taking it all in. It leaves you a little vulnerable, only because the way you’ve decorated is a look inside who you are, feminine and expensive, with simple colours and beautiful plants and endless books that are overflowing on your shelf.

“I didn’t know you read.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re a pain in my ass. Here you go, darling,” he crouches down, holding out a treat for your cat while you open a window. She seems pleased, tapping his hand for more with her little paw and even you admit it’s a cute display of affection from her.

“I’ll look for the scissors.”

Changmin doesn’t answer, busy being loved by a cat and so you leave them both while on the hunt for some scissors. In the end, you ask one of the cleaners if he’d seen any around while finishing up your parents’ bathroom and to your surprise the search is successful when you go through one of the drawers.

You pass the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge, one for Changmin too because you hadn’t asked and you were not prepared to walk back downstairs again in case he wanted some. That, and you brought a packet of gummy bears, not for you but him, and then came back upstairs to see Changmin still on the floor waving a string with a little tiger on the end that Lady was chasing relentlessly.

“I found them,” he looks up at you and she takes the opportunity to pounce on the toy, dragging it between her claws as he tries to push against her, “I also have water.”

“Voss?”

“Yeah?”

“Isn’t that overpriced tap water?”

“Tap water tastes like blood. This is citrusy,” you hold it out to him, and he takes it despite his apprehension.

“Put a lemon in it,” he says, before adding, “and why do you know what blood tastes like?”

“Why do you not?”

He gets up while you rummage around your room, moving your chair right in front of your mirror to give you a view of what he’s doing, “I might need wine, on second thought.”

“I’m not going to ruin your hair any more than it already is,” at least he acknowledges the horrific state it was in, but you knew that, “did the hairdresser cut it that weirdly?”

“I didn’t let her finish. Look at this,” you show him one of the butchered strands and even Changmin looks more than a little shocked that a professional had done such a horrific job.

“I’ll have to cut quite a lot. You realise that, right?”

You did. Of course you knew your once beautiful long hair would be no longer than right by your shoulder and that fucking shattered your heart and confidence, but you could not keep it like this either and magically having longer hair again wasn’t happening without a wig or extensions.

“I won’t cut before you tell me it’s fine but a lot of it is still burnt up to about… here,” he gestures to your collarbone, though he’s careful not to touch you. Maybe he knows you won’t like it and he’s right, you wouldn’t like it, but you were surprised by his way of keeping boundaries.

“If you manage to do this well I’ll buy your groceries for a week,” Changmin perks up, like he hadn’t expected it but they were words he was happy to hear. Almost like he needed it.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” and now your mind wandered again, because he’d insisted he had at least some money and yet he made it sound like he was struggling just to buy some food. Though you try not to dwell on it as you grab your hairbrush to gently get the knots out of your hair.

“I really don’t want you to cut more than you need to.”

“I already told you I won't,” he’s getting frustrated, you can tell, but you want to make sure he gets it. If he didn’t listen to you, it would be so much worse and you’d be absolutely destroyed, and Changmin likely wouldn’t care because it didn’t affect him.

“Okay, so I have a plan,” he says, and even those words cause you worry but you’re willing to hear him out before you both commit, “I’ll just cut all the long hair that’s left up until slightly above your chest and then I’ll actually be neater and more precise with what’s left to work with that’ll get rid of all the burnt hair.”

Not a terrible plan, actually. It’s not like he’d have to be neat cutting up to a certain point if it wasn’t going to stay. It would be a waste of both your time if he did it that way, “okay, we’ll try that.”

“Do you want any music?” Changmin asks you, your cat jumping up onto the bed to perch herself on the edge and watch the way you both move and speak. You wonder if she can tell you both dislike each other, or if she thinks maybe that’s a friend. It makes you curious to know how cats think, but that was a whole other thought process that you were honestly too sober to consider really having.

“I can turn some on,” you connect your phone to your speakers, pressing the shuffle button and leaving it on one of the coffee tables you had next to the mirror full of perfumes and some accessories.

You take a seat and place a towel that you’d gotten around your back and a little towards the front of your body, adjusting your back so it’s straight as Changmin stands behind you. You watch him in the mirror, the way he studies your hair and seems to be contemplating on how to best approach it. It makes you nervous, and once again you’re wondering when you became this insane.

“Okay, I’ll just start cutting.”

“Okay.”

You both fall silent, though you’re left still staring at him in the way you both reflect before you amongst a few polaroids stuck on your mirror. Your heart picks up when you feel his fingers brush the back of your neck as he takes some of your hair between his fingers, but you push it away and try to focus on something else. Anything else.

The first strands of hair fall and you feel like crying. You see the way they end up on the floor, how they lay there and you feel terrible. It feels like you’re ripping away a big piece of yourself and you didn’t wish for it to ever happen.

“I can’t believe Eric did this to me.”

“Wasn’t it an accident?”

“I don’t care,” you snarl, crossing your arms and watching him cut away more and more pieces. For a second you wonder if he’s cut too much but he seems to know how to read your mind because he brings what’s left of it to the front of your body so that you can see its length, most of it the promised length he’d agreed on with you aside from the bit of hair that was already ruined or made shorter before he ever got to it.

“If it helps, I think short hair might suit you,” might. Not that it would, that it might, and that really doesn’t sit well with you, because what if it doesn’t?

“Short hair isn’t pretty on women,” you tell him, but he looks entirely perplexed at your statement, as if he finds it to be absurd.

“According to who? You?”

“Everyone,” a lot of men, mostly, and some women. Juyeon didn’t like it either, you knew that. He’d told you once when one of your female acquaintances had cut her hair and he looked at her like she’d grown two heads.

“I think some women look better with short hair,” he tells you but you don’t really buy it. Then again, you don’t really know Changmin’s type, and once again you’re reminded of his date. Maybe you could ask now, right?

“Did your date have short hair?”

Subtle. You could laugh at yourself, laugh at how pathetic you’d become and how Changmin was often the reason for your downfall. Of course he was, and you cursed yourself for ever agreeing to kick him out of that forsaken party months ago.

“She did not, no. Unless you consider a little over the shoulder short.”

“I do,” he sighs again and maybe you want to smile because honestly, it is a little funny at this point, how quick he is to be annoyed and how quick you are to be the same, “did it go well?”

“Do you really want to know about my dating life?”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” you lie, because honestly you were really curious to know. You wanted to know what she looked like, if she was beautiful, more so than you.

“It was fine. Didn’t really have much chemistry,” he tells you, adjusting his glasses briefly as he dusts off some of your cut hair from your back.

“You mean like sexually?”

“What? No. I mean in general. Chemistry isn’t just sex,” to you, it was most of it. At least you believed it to be. Good chemistry came from desire and lust, which is why you and Juyeon had worked so great when you were in love. You wanted to answer, maybe even defend yourself where he didn’t know you had to, but instead you kept your mouth shut, “I’m going to cut more now.”

“A lot?”

“I think if I play my cards right, it’ll just about be touching your shoulder,” he answers you and you agree, sighing as you adjust the way you sit again and watch him in the mirror.

You watched the way he concentrated, how he bit his lower lip and occasionally adjusted his glasses if he leaned forward too much. He seemed so intent on doing well that it calmed you just a little. At least he would try, you assumed, and all you’d have to do in return was get his groceries.

You were both silent for a long time, simply watching his hands move between strands of hair, trying not to tug too much or break off more hair with what was burnt. The music wasn’t overbearingly loud, and your cat was soft asleep now, sprawled out comfortably in your duvet. It was all very peaceful, strangely so.

You came to realise even more in such silence that Changmin really was just so pretty.

“You’re staring at me,” he tells you, not once making eye contact with you and yet he’d caught you.

“What am I meant to look at?”

“I was only telling you.”

“Does it bother you?”

He stops, meeting your eyes in the mirror and suddenly you look away, “no, I don’t really care.”

You both fall silent again and you watch as he fixes the broken ends and frowns when it doesn’t seem to be going how he wants it to. Seeing him concentrate is a little amusing, because his nose occasionally scrunches and he lets out a little breath of air in annoyance when it just doesn’t work.

“Did you ruin it?”

“Do you really want the truth?”

“Changmin, what the fuck did you do?”

He laughs, and it sounds so happy and amused you turn around and hit his arm, making him jump back and hunch over even more to clutch his stomach while he chuckles. You want to know what the hell is so funny when he’s potentially done worse to you, but he doesn’t say a single word.

“Changmin!”

“It’s nothing. I just find your lack of faith in me hilarious,” your arms cross and some of your hair falls to your face, but to your surprise it seems shockingly neat.

“I was just going to say that I was right. Short hair suits you,” you heart lurches forward again and you’re stunned on what to say. It’s clear to you that it’s a compliment and maybe an attempt at making you feel far better, but all it manages to do at first is make you feel more vulnerable. He’s the first to see you like this and he’s not turning away from it or insulting you the way you would’ve insulted yourself. He’s kinder to yourself at this moment than you would ever be, and it doesn’t even feel forced.

You don’t know what to say.

“You don’t need to say that. We’re not friends,” he looks exasperated, like he’s near given up on ever being kind to you and you hope he truly stops trying. You don’t want to be friends, and while you’ll admit he’s not been as bad as you might’ve initially presumed, you would never want to speak of this after.

“I think it’s nearly done.”

“Are you sure?” Changmin looks at you through the mirror, his eyes finding yours so quickly it makes you stop and stare back at him with strange interest.

“Mhmm, where’s your hairbrush?” you hand it to him and he thanks you, brushing through the strands with a gentle touch you’ve never even given yourself. He’s so careful, like he truly doesn’t want to hurt you, and you’re not really sure when that became important to you but it makes you smile, “I think I should change majors.”

You know he’s teasing though his confidence leaves you curious. From what you can see, it isn’t terrible, but you have yet to see the full result and it’s scary to realise that your hair no longer reaches very far. You’re not even sure how the hell you’re going to style it when you have to have it up, or want to. In the end, maybe you would need extensions.

“Do you have any hair oil?”

“I can’t believe you know what that is,” you get up, intentionally ignoring the mirror to stare back as you move to your bathroom, rummaging through one of the drawers before you find the serum you’re looking for, bringing it over to him, “here.”

He nods, standing in front of you and you don’t make an attempt to move. You let him reach for your hair behind your ear, bringing it forward between his delicate fingers with the oil you’d brought him, bringing it to your short ends and you simply let him. He’s never been this close to you, you don’t think, but it surprises you how it doesn’t make you grimace and want to turn away. Changmin’s in your space, but he isn’t invasive with it either, so very careful with his movements like he’s wondering when you’ll actually shrink away.

“Done,” okay, fuck, now you’d have to look. It would either make you want to curl in on yourself or you’d be content to deal with it, even if you hated the short hair either way. You were already prepared to not like it, but you turn around and it hits you again.

“I hate it,” Changmin’s face briefly falls, maybe with worry or just genuine upset because it sounds like an insult towards him. It’s the very first time where your heart sinks because you feel bad for making him believe he’d done something horrific when he’d helped you. He looks so genuinely pained, almost like he’s afraid that you’ll turn violent for what he’d done, and how truly sorry he looks makes you feel awful.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, turning back to him so you can avoid the mirror, and you make an effort to look into his dark brown eyes framed by his glasses, the softness in them not going unnoticed by you. The way he looks like he’s ready to walk out with a knife in his back.

“No, I just… I hate having my hair short,” you attempt, awkwardly reaching for his arm in an attempt to make it better, but it’s awkward for you both and so you remove your touch and look back at him instead, “I think you did great, Changmin.”

“You can be honest.”

“I am. I think it’s really neat,” which was true. He’d cut it precise and straight just along your shoulder and nothing seemed out of place. It was hard to believe he’d never done this before.

“I should get going,” there’s a voice in the back of your mind offering him to stay a little longer, but your mother could be home at any point and you knew very well that she wouldn’t like Changmin at all, even if he’d done you a favour.

“Wait…” he stops, his jacket just pulled over one of his sleeves as he looks at you, “what about your groceries?”

“Forget it, it’s fine,” he’s upset. Something is on his mind and you want to know what it is. You don’t really believe him to be the type to be so hung up on one of your insults. He’d never been before, and some had been far worse than this, and yet he’d never been so quiet towards you.

“No, I think I should,” you reach for your purse and while you can tell he wants to leave, he doesn’t walk out. He waits for you to gather your things and then stares at you.

“I really don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity. You cut my hair,” he looks like he wants to agree with you. Like he knows that he did and yet he doesn’t really want to acknowledge it.

“Fine.”

It was already late in the evening when you got to the store, not realising how time had slipped away from you both while you were at home. You’d thought Changmin had been quick, but reality had been different and time had simply flown away from you.

“This place is expensive.”

“Is it?” you shrug, never having thought of it as you step out of the car, waiting for him to follow suit though he hesitates for far longer before he finally comes out of the car, approaching you with apprehension, “does it matter? You’re not paying for it.”

Changmin huffs, nails digging into his knuckles while he stares ahead at the store in front of you. You weren’t ready to admit to him that you hadn’t done groceries in years because it was always done for you, and you were not going to admit that the corner store when you were missing some snacks was as far as shopping for food went for you.

“I don’t need you to spend money on me.”

“I doubt I’ll notice it’s gone,” he scoffs, clearly unimpressed as he walks with you. You don’t like it, because it feels like he’s looking down at you again, like you’re lesser than him when that has never been the case. You don’t understand the issue or why it should even concern him if you’re spending your allowance on him, but for some reason it does.

“You realise the problem with that, right?”

“What problem?”

His kind eyes are gone, replaced with the ones you know far better. The eyes that judge you, that see you as frustrating and annoying, the ones that hate you and think you’re unimportant. You hate that gaze, the way he looks at you, and yet it doesn’t go away, nor does it fade in intensity, even while you watch him grab a shopping cart and step inside because you simply refuse to do it yourself.

“What would you like?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” he starts, clearly in thought before he adds, “I need cat food.”

It catches you off guard. Changmin feels selfless, in that regard. How his first thought for what he needs isn’t for him at all but rather his pet. It makes you look at him differently, even just for a moment.

“That’s at the back.”

He follows you, completely silent and now it feels awkward again. It’s almost amazing how quickly you both revert back to this.

“What does he eat?”

“He likes tuna,” he reaches for something, a packaged box of cat food with an assortment of different flavours and you grimace.

“Is that good for him?”

“It’s all I can afford,” he snaps back, putting it in the cart but you don’t seem pleased. If he had a cat, he should at least put in the effort to feed him well. You’d never understand pet owners who practically fed Mcdonald’s to them in jelly form.

“I’m paying for it.”

“And I’m not changing his diet for a week or two just because it’s not on my dime,” well, you lost that argument, albeit begrudgingly because you didn’t agree with it.

“Can I at least choose some treats for him?”

“Do whatever you want, princess,” you freeze up, briefly reminded of Juyeon and his voice and the way he calls you princess. How that’s his thing to do, not Changmin’s, nor anyone else’s. You didn’t want anyone else to call you that, yet you were so frozen in place by surprise that you couldn’t tell him to stop. Instead, you fall silent and pick something out for him that you hope he’ll like, placing it in the cart before you follow Changmin to another aisle.

You don’t speak to him for a while, and it’s so awkward to watch him find random things, and even worse when he finds something only to put it back because the price makes him do a double take. And each time you make an attempt to offer to get it anyway or tell him it really doesn’t make a difference to you, he gives you a look of such discontent, like he wants you to keep your mouth shut and it surprises even you that you do.

You were stubborn and weren’t one to back down, and yet you would find it so embarrassing if an argument ensued between you both in public. It was bad enough that you were both together with the potential risk of someone you knew seeing it, but even worse if you brought on that attention through your disagreements when you could’ve avoided it.

“I think I’m done,” you look down at all the items and frown, wondering how the hell that’s meant to last a week. It makes you think again, if he really could make this last for a while or maybe he just really didn’t want to live off your dime and you’re not so sure what bothered you more.

“Do you not eat?”

“Coming from you?”

Another insult and it leaves you angry, but you also wonder if he’d noticed. If he had, you wondered how. If he was simply attentive or watching you constantly when you weren’t looking like some creep, “I eat.”

“I’d hope so,” you want this evening to be over. It would be nice to go home and curl up in your bed, to maybe call Chanhee and hear your best friend’s voice, to maybe text Juyeon to get a goodnight that was kind and sweet, to maybe ask Hyunjae if he was planning a party any time soon so that you’d have something new to look forward to and redeem yourself and your reputation.

“There’s nothing else you want?”

“Nope,” you look down at all he’d chosen again and it just doesn’t sit right with you, but you don’t say anything else. It’s none of your business, how he chooses to consume his meals or what his motive or intentions are in not taking advantage of you buying everything for him, but it feels like an insult to you and your money that he’s not using it properly.

It also bothers you, how he’d seemed enthused earlier at the prospect of you getting groceries for him, how he’d even laughed while doing your hair and how when he'd smiled it even reached his eyes, only to stand here with him now and see the way his eyes seem lifeless, how his smile has faded and he seems so miserable and over being around you.

“Fine,” is your answer, cold just like him as you both go to the check out, paying for all his things whilst he packs them up. You’re both so silent, the woman scanning all his items gives you both a look, as if she knows you’re both fighting and can feel the tension between you both.

You don’t end up spending much at all, far less than you’d expected, and yet when you try to pay, Changmin steps up to you, “I’ll just get it.”

“No, I want to get it,” you push him away from you, but he surprises you in his strength and resistance, barely moving an inch while you try to tap your watch against the card machine.

“I don’t want you to.”

“I said I would!” you snap and he finally stops fighting you, maybe in his shock because you’ve raised your voice publicly, but you manage to pay and the woman gives him a sympathetic look with kind eyes as if to tell him she’s sorry for your behaviour.

It’s silent as you both go to the car but you can feel his anger radiate off him. You already know he might snap, the question is what his anger will look like. You’re not afraid of it or Changmin, because while you don’t know him well, you don’t believe he’d hurt you in frustration. But you do wonder what he’ll say, if anything at all.

You try to ignore him by drowning it all out with music, occasionally glancing over at him though he’s on his phone not paying attention to you. It was like having a random strange man in your car, one that wouldn’t take any time to get to know who he was even with, but you supposed that was better than the alternative.

“I don’t know your address,” you tell him eventually, realising you were just heading back to your place when you should very likely be going a whole other direction.

“Drop me anywhere. I’ll take the bus.”

“I’m already driving,” he sighs, but he doesn’t fight you either, reaching over to the touch screen in the centre of your car to find the navigational system so that he can type in his address. You knew the area by name, though you’d never done more than pass it by. When you were younger, your parents had insisted on avoiding places such as the one you were now going to, for it was full of criminal activity and rather dangerous at night. At least so they said.

“Thank you for helping me,” it takes a lot for you to say it, so you hope at the very least he’ll realise how difficult it is for you and to appreciate that you managed to say it anyway. He doesn’t react at first, looking outside into the dark, up at the city lights and the way everything reflects, but eventually he pays attention to you again when the trees get boring and a droplet of rain falls onto the window.

“It’s nothing.”

“Yeah but… you didn’t laugh at me.”

“There was nothing to laugh at,” he made things difficult. It was hard to speak to him, sometimes moreso, because he just seemed so indifferent when you didn’t want him to be. You also knew him to be different, just sometimes, because you’d had little glimpses of it, and you wondered where they went when he stopped smiling.

“Juyeon would’ve found it hilarious.”

“I’m not Juyeon,” he interrupts angrily, this time turning his head to look at you properly and it distracts you. You were near certain though you’d gotten no real confirmation that they didn’t like each other at all, and yet his instant protest made it far more evident than you’d presumed it to be.

“You make him sound like a bad person.”

“If he would’ve laughed at you, then isn’t he?”

No. You want to say no. Juyeon was flawed but not bad. He was always so kind to you, until the moments in which he wasn’t but you knew how to ignore those for the good things you got. But then you wondered why you’d broken up at all if he was what you wanted. It was hurting your head to think about it, to think about Juyeon was always so complicated and painful, yet here you were again wondering if you could ever have him back.

“He’s not that bad.”

“Right,” you’re not sure why you wanted him to fight with you. To tell you you’re wrong, that Juyeon was fucking terrible and destroyed every little bit of confidence within you so that he could mold it back together into the perceived beauty that he wanted. Until you were created to be only his.

You’re not sure why you want Changmin to say it, because you know you’ll resist him anyway.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, really. I just don’t get it. I’ll never understand wanting to be hurt by someone you think should love you,” you fall silent first. You want to defend Juyeon but you’re not sure how to do it without sounding pathetic.

“He does love me,” Changmin doesn’t say anything else. He rolls down your car window and lights a cigarette without even asking if he can though you say nothing about it. Maybe you might normally, but you stop yourself this time because your thoughts are muddled and you’re not sure you can even really think.

“It’s just here,” he breaks you out of your thoughts and you park just a bit down the road where there’s space, watching him get out of the car but you stay put at first. You feel a little numb, frozen even, though when he opens the trunk of the car, you finally snap out of it and follow after him.

“You don’t need to help me,” you don’t listen to him, grabbing one of the bags before shutting the back of your car and looking at him expectantly, “you’re not coming inside.”

“Fine.”

You’re a little disappointed. Mostly because your curiosity has grown and you really want to meet his stray cat, but Changmin seems determined to keep you away from the little furball, “next time then.”

He seems as surprised as you by your words, although deep down you think you both know they’re not meant. You likely won’t ever be here again, and so the final steps to the front door of the apartment complex is all you’ll ever get a glimpse of into his life. You wonder how he lives, what it looks like, if it’s neat or cluttered, dark or bright.

You wonder if his interior reveals his interests and hobbies, or if it’s monotone and hard to decipher. You realise you wonder so much in this moment, about Changmin and who he is, what he’s really like away from what you see. But maybe what’s inside is too vulnerable for him to reveal, that he keeps it to himself because it feels safer.

You wonder even if just for a moment, what it would be like to get to know him beyond you both standing here in the light rain.

“Well, thank you for the groceries,” you hold the last bag out to him for him to take and he does, leaving you to stand there with no real purpose other than to look at him.

“Yeah… of course,” you don’t know what you’re saying. You’ve forgotten how to formulate a sentence and it feels suffocating to stand here with him. You really want to leave, though not because you detest Changmin in the way you might sometimes believe, but rather because it feels so strange to just stand there with him, with no real purpose or gain out of it, “goodnight Changmin.”

He nods, reaching for his key rather awkwardly and you’d help if it didn’t mean reaching into the pocket of his jacket. You watch him struggle though he manages eventually, turning only briefly before he ultimately sighs, “I should walk you to the car.”

You want to ask why until you remember what your parents had said. Maybe they were right, that it really was unsafe and Changmin knew it too, “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t care,” he puts his bags down in the hall right next to the door, letting it fall shut after him as he comes back down the steps to where you stand to begin the short journey back to your car. It’s so awkward between you both, so painfully silent and you think back to the woman at the grocery store again, the way she’d stared at you both.

“Well, I survived the walk to my car,” you think you see a faint smile on his face, but you don’t want to comment on it in case he notices and lets it fade away again, “goodnight Changmin. For real this time.”

Changmin smiles. He genuinely smiles and his dimples show on his cheeks enough to make you want to mirror a similar upturn of your lips. It’s contagious, and he stands there as you shut the door though let your window down just a little in case he wants to say anything else to you.

At first, you don’t think he’s going to. You think he’s going to let you leave but when you start the car, he leans his arms against the opened window and looks up at you again, carefully, as if his eyes are searching for something within your own and you wonder if your cheeks look as warm as they suddenly feel.

“Get home safe, little doll,” you want to answer but you’re left completely stunned by him. The wave of emotions you go through in his company can’t be quite good for you. It makes you feel vulnerable and a little confused and you can do nothing to help it. It’s simply there, every single feeling is right at the surface and you can’t hide it.

It makes you feel so exposed, enough that your words get caught in your throat and you have to simply drive away, seeing him in your rearview mirror, and you hope he gets inside and off the street if it really is as bad as you’d been told here.

You don’t mean to do it, but after a few minutes you turn around just to check that he’d gone inside, slowing down when you don’t see him anymore, nor do you see the groceries he’d placed down just inside when he’d chosen to walk you back to your car.

Which meant he was okay, and you could go home.

You’re at another one of Juyeon’s parties and you’ve had a little too much to drink. You don’t know what time it is, nor are you sure on where you’re even going. It’s disorienting for you to even walk, dizzying in hallways you’re familiar with and yet you can’t make out where you are. Eventually you give up and try to roll a cigarette, but you swear you’re seeing double and can’t even imagine the state you’re in.

Wondering if you look like a disaster, you try to see if you recognise anyone, though you’re alone aside from a couple making out not too far away from you. It bothers you a little, but you don’t want to bring their attention towards you and instead remain silently sat on the hardwood floor, beautifully dark and expensive. The music is still loud so you figure you must still be close to the main living room but you can’t be sure.

“Little princess, I’ve been trying to find you,” Juyeon’s worried voice breaks you out of whatever daze you’re in, looking up to see him stand there in his dress shirt that clings tight to his thin waist. He’s beautiful, of course, and you become aware of the state you must look like, now that something so gorgeous is in front of you.

What is happening to you?

“Am fine,” you mumble, wanting to close your eyes as much as you want to go outside to have a cigarette.

“You look awful,” you know. He doesn’t need to tell you, and yet when he does it stings deep and makes you wish he hadn’t said anything at all. You wish for just a moment that he’d lie to you and tell you otherwise, in a way that makes you think that the opposite might be true.

You want Juyeon to tell you that you’re pretty.

“I know,” he stares at you, silently first before he crouches down to your level. Your eyes meet and his are dark but pretty, a certain glazed spark that makes you want to kiss him, but you don’t.

“I can take you to my room,” you nod, holding your hand out to him so he can help you to your feet, and you stumble into his chest when gravity decides to not be in your favour, “when did you turn into such a drinker?”

You’re not sure, really, what had made you drink so excessively tonight, but Juyeon knew that you drank and could drink a lot so the question still takes you aback. Does he think you’ve gone off the rails?

“Am not…” though your lack of coordination and the fact that you feel increasingly ill from being intoxicated seems to suggest otherwise. Remembering how much you’ve had would be impossible to decipher so you wouldn’t even attempt it.

“Here… you should shower first.”

“Don’t wanna…” as if you’d trust yourself to even stand upright in the shower, but Juyeon seems just as persistent as you.

“I’m not letting you in my bed in this state,” you scoff, thinking it’s unbelievable that his first concern would be his silken bed sheets though simultaneously you know you’d be just the same. No way you’d ever let someone this drunk on your mattress with the chance that they’d be sick. You understood perfectly, and yet it still made you angry.

“Why’d you care so little about me?”

Juyeon doesn’t say anything first, leading you to the bathroom and you sit against the door, watching him move around without his attention ever going to you. It almost confirms the question, that he’s so indifferent and careless because you’re not worth even worrying about.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I?”

You’re getting angry and it shows, pushing your body up with all the strength you can possibly find in your body, Juyeon catching you the moment you threaten to fall back to the floor. Even if he caught you, he seems to push your body away from him, like he doesn’t want you any closer and it kills something in you to have him act this way towards you when he’d been so sweet before.

“Why’re you doing this?”

“You should go home. I’ll get Chanhee,” normally, he would've let you stay. Juyeon would let you stay in his bed and the fact that he isn’t even offering it makes your heart sink deep, a heavy weighted feeling in your chest that’s just equally as hollow. Your heart is breaking and he doesn’t seem to care at all, nor does he seem to care for the consequences.

You stand completely alone, looking around the bathroom before you get a burst of energy that has you looking for any remnants of cocaine in any of his drawers. Juyeon hid it well, just in case the cleaners rummaged more than he’d requested, because he did not need anything to get back to his parents in regards to some of his more worrying behaviour. Unfortunately, you come up entirely empty and the door opens to you surrounded by a mess of his things.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Juyeon is so angry, you truly want to fear him with how he looks at you, but Chanhee and Hyunjae both stand there too, with Hyunjae even moving to block Juyeon’s body from you. You’re not sure why he does it, but to know he seems more concerned for you than the man you loved brought a new pain to your chest that really made you want to cry. He was so careless and it hurt.

“I’ll just take her home- don’t,” Chanhee glares at Juyeon when he makes an attempt to move towards you, and you’re grateful for your best friend when he helps you back up, albeit you have no way of really focusing in on him, your vision blurry and tired.

“Did she take anything?” Hyunjae. You think it’s Hyunjae, his voice soft and gentle, sounding entirely sober and you wonder if he’d had anything to drink at all. Usually he did, a bottle always famously in hand yet he seemed so okay now, you couldn’t imagine it.

“Don’t know,” cold. His voice sounds so cold and careless, it’s the only thing you can focus on. You can’t pay attention to Chanhee holding your body up or the fact that Hyunjae is right in front of you. You don’t even notice.

“It’s like she’s been drugged,” Chanhee. It’s Chanhee, and he sounds more angry than Juyeon, though for an entirely different reason. He’s concerned for you, but in a tone you’re not familiar with.

“Just get her out then.”

“She’s about to pass out, Juyeon.”

“I don’t care, Chanhee.”

Your vision is spotted and you start to think that maybe Hyunjae’s question has merit. You’d had plenty to drink but in your mind it hadn’t been enough to act like this. Yet you were so out of it, so unaware and so ready to sink back to the floor where your heart already lay in pieces.

“I’ll carry her. Let’s just go,” you can’t make out the voice anymore. You can barely make anything out as you feel yourself being lifted up onto someone’s back. He’s warm and strong, a cologne you recognise but not familiar enough with for it to belong to Chanhee. If it’s not your best friend and it isn’t Juyeon, it had to have been Hyunjae.

You hope it’s Hyunjae. He’s the one you’d trust the most after the two other men in the room with you.

You don’t remember falling asleep nor do you remember waking up, but there’s a sharp cold breeze and wind blowing through your short cut hair, earrings swaying with every step of the man who’s carrying you.

“Should we take her to the hospital?”

“I think she just needs to sleep,” you think that’s Hyunjae. You hope it is. He’s so comfortable to hold and so warm if that’s the case.

“I can’t believe Juyeon’s such an ass he can’t even let her crash in his bed.”

“I’m gonna talk to him about that,” the voice closest to you tells your best friend. At least you presume it to be. Eventually you let your eyes reopen, nuzzling deeper against Hyunjae’s shoulder once you confirm it really is him.

“You’re awake,” your best friend looks at you with a concerned gaze that has you wanting to turn away. You don’t like that look of pity and concern for your state. You’d much rather ignore the mess you are in favour of pretending it never happened.

“Hi pretty,” Hyunjae says, turning his head slightly to look back at you. You have to admit it’s incredibly nice to walk with them like this though you’re not sure why they didn’t just get your driver or one of their own, “we’re nearly at my place”

“Mhmm, why didn’t we uber?”

“Figured you could use the fresh air. It’s not much further,” Hyunjae answers, Chanhee walking in silence with you both.

“You’re really sweet Hyunjae,” you feel him laugh, the vibrations in his chest reaching you and it makes you smile against him. It’s nice, the way he laughs, the way it reaches deep in his chest and sounds so low and carefree.

“That I am, darling.”

You make it to Hyunjae’s place not long after and you’re not really sure what happens beyond that. You think you remember Chanhee asking if he could stay in the bathroom with you while you shower, just in case you fall or hurt yourself, and you do remember agreeing and even telling him to leave the door open in case Hyunjae had to come in to help.

After that, it becomes a little more muddled, though you do get a change of clothes from Hyunjae that swallow you whole because he’d already warned you ahead of time that it was too large for him too, and then you’re curled up in the centre of his bed with both your friends on either side of you.

You’re turned facing Chanhee, far less space between you and your best friend than you and Hyunjae, though Hyunjae had insisted on keeping a larger distance because he didn’t want you to feel weird about sharing a bed with him. He was right, it was a little weird at first to be in bed with him, but you got used to it quickly because you think he made a joke and you know you laughed and then you must’ve fallen asleep before they followed suit.

And suddenly you didn’t mind it at all.

You swear you’d been hungover for two days after that cursed party at Juyeon’s house. When you had first woken up in Hyunjae’s bed, you’d still felt drunk, and that drunk feeling turned into being hungover with a throbbing headache and the following day it still persisted. It had persisted but you needed to catch up on a lot of studying, having put it on the back burner long enough that soon your parents would notice and say something, or worse, take your allowance from you.

So you found yourself back at the library, overdressed to compensate and hide how absolutely shit you felt from the amount you’d had to drink, trying to find somewhere to sit. You decided to sit on a table far in the corner, away from everyone yet still within sight of the main area, opening your laptop up and grabbing one of your many notebooks and one of your textbooks.

You think an hour goes by when you briefly leave to grab a coffee from the cafe just down the street, coming back with a warm drink and another painkiller down your throat because the headache persisted and you had at least a few more hours to study before you could tell yourself it was enough.

It hadn’t even been a minute since you’d sat when a shadow of a person stood across from you, completely still first as if debating before he speaks, presumably towards you, “you don’t mind, right?”

You raise your head to see Changmin with a coffee from the same place you’d just been to, his hair wet from rain and his glasses a little slanted, his hoodie too large for his body and covering even his palms to imitate little paws.

“I guess it’s fine,” he sits diagonally to you, adjusting his glasses and you just stare as he gets his books and a notebook out, full of coloured little tabs and sticky notes. It was colourful, unexpectedly so, and very messy in a way. You wondered how he learned anything like that, but maybe he had a method.

“You got home okay last week?”

It’s a question directed towards you but it takes a minute for you to process it while you were in a daze, blinking out of it and focusing on him properly again, the way his hands rest under his chin, two of his fingers twisting one of his rings.

“Well, I’m here, right?”

He nods, having some of his coffee before he starts to write something. You think that’s all he’ll say, so you turn back to what you’re doing and try to focus on literally anything but him. He was such an easy distraction, and yet he did nothing to be that.

“Are you hungover?” Shit.

Were you really that obvious, or was Changmin just that good at guessing? You honestly couldn’t tell, and you weren’t sure what you favoured less.

“I look like shit, don’t I?” Changmin surprises you when he smiles, not in a way that tells you he agrees but in a way that tells you he’s amused. Like he genuinely finds it funny that that was your conclusion to his question.

“Is that what I said?” Well, no, you supposed not, but it surely felt like it first when he’d posed the question, “you just look a little out of it.”

You were. God, you were so fucking over everything and you couldn’t fully describe or explain what was happening to you. Something was, but you couldn't control it nor did you control your feelings or outcomes of the situations you put yourself in when you didn’t need to be in them.

“I am, yeah,” he opens the lid of his coffee, as if trying to reach the foam that normally clings to the lid of the cup like glue. You stare at him again like a bad habit, only realising after a while that neither of you are attempting to argue with the other and maybe you don’t detest him so much.

Just maybe.

“Juyeon’s, right? I heard about it,” you look away from him in favour of finding your coffee and having some of it before it gets too cold and bitter to taste. You’re not sure what to answer to that, not more than a nod because it feels weird to know that he wouldn’t even have been invited yet he knows that it happened and that you were there.

“Yeah,” it sounds weak and you try to clear your throat, coughing instead as a result and turning your eyes back to the words in front of you, the mathematical equations that make you want to die the longer you look at them and the scribbles you’re trying to decipher even though you were the one to put them there.

“You look confused.”

“I am confused,” you tell him, and he surprises you by getting up and coming over to you, hovering into your personal space before you can ask him what the hell he’s doing. He’s close but never too close, and you hope no one is watching you both or peering in to the fact that you’re being friendly. “I can solve it for you if you want,” now it’s your turn to be amused and laugh, because no way in hell is Changmin able to look at your notes with anything other than a giant question mark over his head, “What? You think I don’t know how to do mathematical analysis?”

“Honestly, no,” you confess, and he looks at you strangely before reaching over for one of his pens.

“I can do the first one. It’ll help you figure out the second question,” you’re not sure why you agree or why you let him so easily take control of your notebook, but he does and you don’t say anything first, watching the way he writes out the equation. His motions are so fluid, the way his fingers grip the pen with confidence in what he writes. There doesn’t seem to be a single mistake as he writes, like he knows exactly how to get the answer and it amazes you.

“I didn’t know you were smart,” you’d meant it as a genuine compliment and genuine amazement but it’s clear to you that it sounds quite backhanded, which you suppose mirrors your personality towards him more. He doesn’t flinch, ignoring you entirely before he pushes your notes back to you.

“There you go,” he gets up before you can even say thank you, and it’s the sudden absence of his presence beside you that makes you realise you didn’t mind him in your space at all. You feel like you should, that you did just recently, but his closeness to you had felt like a safe presence, not a familiarity yet and not foreign enough to make you alert to it.

It was just sort of there. He just sort of existed with you.

“Thank you,” you’ve never sounded so sincere with him before, not that you had ever wanted to be nor meant it, but even when he’d been kind enough to cut your hair and not fuck it up, even then you hadn’t thanked him the way you did now, even if you’d argue that that gesture was far more important to you than this.

“You really don’t need to thank me. I find it weird,” what a way to ruin it. You roll your eyes and turn back to your work instead, using his method of solving the equation to help you figure out the rest. His handwriting was a little sloppy but you could read it fairly well, though the few times you struggle you still refused to ask him to tell you outright what it meant.

“How’s your cat?”

“You don’t have to make conversation either,” he adds, but it doesn’t sound troubled or annoyed, rather a statement that you don’t have to put in effort where you don’t want to. And then you wonder why you’re putting in any effort at all so suddenly, “he’s fine. How’s yours?”

“She’s fine.” “That’s good,” he never once looks up at you and it’s starting to bother you. Are you that ugly, that he simply didn’t want to see you at all? Was there something about you that was so easy to detest that even someone like Changmin couldn’t find it in himself to be decent and meet your eyes?

It’s like he could sense your thoughts and your bitterness of his refusal to meet your eyes, because suddenly his deep brown ones were staring into your own and you found it almost overwhelming to meet his gaze. His eye contact lingered and he didn’t falter with it, and eventually the way he stared back at you became too intense and you had to look away.

“You’re terrible with eye contact,” you were, he was right. It wasn’t very comfortable for you, and the longer someone lingered on you, the worse it got unless you were angry and intimidating someone.

“It’s weird to stare at someone.”

“You stared at me first,” fuck, so he’d noticed it. Of course he had. You knew what it was like, to feel that stare of someone enough so that you tried to find where it was coming from. In this case, Changmin had felt it yet there hadn’t been enough people around to hide that it was you. He knew instantly, because it had been obvious.

“I daydream.”

“How cute,” it sounds sarcastic coming from his lips. You don’t think he genuinely finds you cute. Honestly, you’d take it as an insult if he did. Cute was for animals, not for a grown woman, and so you were glad to know that for once he was mocking you.

There’s no words said between either of you for a while. You finish your coffee and he finishes his, and after a while he gets up and grabs both empty cups once he’s sure there’s nothing left in yours, “where’re you going?”

“Bin,” he leaves you alone and you’re left staring at him dumbly, watching his figure disappear behind rows of books and shelves. But then he doesn’t come back, and a few minutes turn into a quarter of an hour and you want to start looking for him. His things were still with you, including his phone, and you wonder why or when he became so trusting of you. Surely you could take it all or worse, you could ruin it, and he just had faith that you apparently wouldn’t.

Eventually he reappears, but you only notice because another cup of coffee is suddenly right in front of your eyes, held by hands you recognise because of the jewellery adorned, and it’s only further confirmed when you look up again to see him standing there.

“You got me a coffee?”

“Why’re you so surprised?”

Many reasons. You don’t like each other very much. His money was tight, that you knew. Or just the fact that it was the last thing you naturally expected when he’d disappeared for so long.

“How do you know what I drink?”

“Guesswork. It’s skimmed milk, too.”

Even Juyeon messed that up. He’d mess it up nearly every time and you could always taste the difference, you swore it, and yet he’d lie and say he’d gotten it right just enough for you to want to believe that maybe you were wrong. Maybe it wasn’t him that screwed up.

Surely it was always you.

“I really don’t want to keep thanking you today.”

“Then just get the next one in a few hours,” you’re rendered a little speechless on the silent assumption that you’d both be here for most of the day, but you suppose he’s being fair and that it’s very likely you’ll be here for a while, still.

“I guess,” you mumble, bringing the coffee closer to you to warm your fingers. You hold it for a while, fingers laced together before you bring the liquid to your lips to drink. It tastes exactly like you would’ve wanted it to, and briefly it makes your mind wander on how he could’ve known it so well.

You’re back to sitting in complete silence and after a few hours go by like that, Changmin seems disinterested in his work and instead wanders off before returning with a book to read. It brings amusement to your lips, an upwards smile that you try to hide under your hand because you don’t want him to comment on it. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he ignores it.

“Well… I suppose it’s my turn,” you mutter, reaching over for his empty cup before taking your own. He looks up at you with warm eyes, adjusting his glasses again and you start to think that it might be a habit given the repetition in which you see him do so.

“I’ll have a cappuccino.”

“Do you want it with the chocolate powder?”

“Yeah, just as it comes is fine,” you leave your things aside from your wallet and phone, as well as the two empty to-go cups and make your way out. It’s a strange feeling, running an errand of sorts you suppose for the both of you. And yet studying with Changmin across from you isn’t bad at all. Actually, you find it strangely peaceful, because he doesn’t bother you at all but his presence makes you feel less isolated.

You like that he doesn’t really make an attempt at a conversation where there isn’t one to be had.

“Here you go,” he mumbles something similar to a thank you, at least you think, his hand reaching out for you to place his coffee into. You do so, watching as he doesn’t once look up but his fingers dust over your own and it makes your heart jump to your throat because the feeling is foreign and strange but you want to welcome it.

You don’t like that you do, huffing in frustration at yourself and your stupid mess of emotions that have been scattered ever since that forsaken incident weeks ago. Maybe you’d have to consider therapy at this point, if the mess that was your mind persisted and the results were hangovers spread over multiple days and heart palpitations because someone simply touched you.

“Thanks,” you nod but he doesn’t seem to notice, so deeply caught up in his work that you think it might be something important, or at least incredibly interesting. He’d put the book he’d found earlier down and held his pen between his lips, fingers running through his now dry hair as he gripped the ends when he seemed frustrated.

Again, you were staring, but it was far too easy to do when he was right there and practically the only source of entertainment for your mind when your work was boring you to death.

“Struggling?”

“I suppose,” he draws out, pen no longer between his lips so he could answer you. You want to ask him what he’s doing, what exactly he’s even majoring in because you realise you have no idea. Then again, it had never interested you enough to ask and you’re not so sure if you ever will.

“Biochemistry,” he says outloud, presumably spoken to you. When you don’t answer, he looks up and stares right at you, “that’s what I’m studying.”

Wow, so he really was smart.

“Willingly?”

“Surprised?”

“Maybe,” the back and forth felt a little like flirting, and yet you knew it wasn’t that. It was a back and forth simply because the conversation never really went deeper. It was quick because there was nothing else to say.

It’s early in the evening when you decide that you've had enough. Changmin had left a few times for a cigarette, always rolling one at the table with you right there, making lazy conversation before he’d leave for a few minutes and then return. You debated asking if you could come with him just once before you remembered where you were and who you were with, so instead you sat and accepted the nicotine withdrawal.

“I think I’m done for the day,” he looks up at you briefly before he stretches his limbs, turning his shoulder either direction to warm his muscles and rid them of the tension from being mostly sat all day.

“That’s fair,” you start to pack up and there’s something in your mind wondering if you’d end up doing this again. You wouldn’t entirely mind it, as annoying as he is, when you simply sit with each other it’s rather nice and easy. It’s when the two of you start to speak to one another that problems arise. It’s when you realise again who he is that the calmness in your veins turns into something else.

“You’ll take a break at some point, right?”

“I plan to, doll,” his eyes meet yours again and you’re left staring, unsure what to make of that nickname anymore. It still bothers you and yet you perceive it as a compliment just the same, for if he calls you a doll, surely you’re delicate enough to be one?

“Don’t forget dinner,” he adds when you start to walk away from the table, and it brings you to a halt. Changmin doesn’t look up from his work, although you know that he’s aware that you’ve stopped, that you’re probably frustrated and that you want to tell him to go to hell when you let out a frustrated sigh. He has no right to tell you that, and yet the very fact that he’d brought it up at all with such casual nonchalance yet clear determined voice makes you think he might say it because he’s worried but doesn’t want to push a boundary further than he thinks he needs to.

He wants to remind you without pressuring you into a corner.

First you think of saying something, to maybe make a comment back but for the longest time you’re left standing there with nothing coming out of your lips. You simply can’t find anything to say.

“I’ll remember dinner when you forget to smoke,” he looks up from his textbook but you’ve already turned away from him, disappearing behind the shelfs and he’s left staring after you, a little lost before a faint smile falls back to his lips and his dimples become prominent despite just the faintness in which his lips curve.

You’d never know that he didn’t smoke for the rest of the night, but you did have dinner before you curled up in your bed with a book and your cat sat lazily beside you.

Changmin was starting to interest you. Not because you liked him but rather because he left you curious and a little stunned because of how strange he was. You were also wondering how or why he always managed to read you so well, it was all guess work and yet it was simply always correct just the same and you had no idea how he did it. Aside from the thought that he might be stalking you but you were always more than certain that he’d claim to have better things to do than follow you.

You hadn’t studied with Changmin since the hours spent in the library together but you had used the few notes and solutions he gave you the next few days as you revised. It was incredibly helpful, annoyingly so and you were beginning to feel a little dumb because why couldn't you have just written this out yourself? It wasn’t difficult now that you saw the answer.

Sunday night comes around and you’re lazily hanging around in bed listening to the rain outside. You’re so bored, but there was no party to attend and nothing else to really do. Chanhee said he was too busy and you weren’t going to ask Hyunjae, even though you had his number. You considered it truly, but ultimately didn’t want to give him the wrong idea of you nor were you sure how that would look if Juyeon found out.

Juyeon. A thorn in your side that pinched and twisted. He wouldn’t go away and you were conflicted on whether or not you wanted him to. You cared for Juyeon deeply and yet he seemed to prove the opposite in return, that you were worth the minimum if nothing at all. The final bit of evidence wasn’t even too long ago, when he left Hyunjae and Chanhee to carry you home instead of simply letting you stay in his bed to recover.

It was starting to feel, just a little, like Changmin might be right. Maybe the bad did outweigh the good though you weren’t ready to face the consequences of that being true. You weren’t ready for any of it. You didn’t want it to be true, because if it was you would have to grieve something only you seemed to love and you really didn’t want to be faced with that reality.

The doorbell rings and it breaks you away. It takes you a minute to realise that you’ll have to be the one to answer, as your parents are out and none of the staff remained given the late hour. You wondered why your parents still didn’t invest their money on a live-in butler, but they insisted he would attempt to steal with all the extra time given to him in which he simply stayed here.

When you come downstairs you’re already a little annoyed. The ringing persisted and whoever it was was incredibly impatient with you getting there, so you’re already ready to yell at whoever it is but when you finally meet the gaze of who it is, you stop in your step and stare.

Juyeon.

act iii

this chapter was meant to be longer but tumblr said no so I apologise for the cliffhanger it's not my fault and also apologise that this won't be three acts only pfff

taglist: @sanaxo-o @mosviqu @sunramzi @tbzhubrecs @caratsmatic @synnocence

again, let me know if you wanna be on the taglist 💜 comments are always appreciated

series masterlist || tbz masterlist

©️strayed-quokka, please do not steal, translate, reuse or rewrite as your own

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amethystarachnid · 1 month ago

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Hey! I'd like to make a request for your Marvel Multiverse: Royal AU with tony stark x fem!reader

Anything with a very happy married couple, reader telling him that they are expecting their first child and tony being the best husband (and dad), I need some fluff and I appreciate your writing

THE CROWN'S HEART

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance and fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Multiverse

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: you and Tony are king and queen, your life is full of duties but also full of love, love that doubles once you discover that you're with child.

ᯓ★ TW(s): pregnancy and childbirth

ᯓ★ AU:Royal but not modern royal

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The grand halls of the palace gleam under the soft glow of the afternoon sun. Tall windows allow beams of light to filter through, illuminating the royal tapestries and gold-gilded furniture. The air is calm, peaceful—just like your heart. You walk through the corridors, your hand grazing the stone walls as you make your way to the council chamber. There’s a nervous excitement bubbling inside you, but the smile on your face is soft and serene.

This moment—this secret you’ve carried with you all morning—it feels like a miracle. You can hardly contain it anymore. It’s time to tell him.

As you approach the grand wooden doors, two guards step aside, bowing deeply. You nod at them graciously before entering the chamber. The room is lined with advisors, but all eyes are on the man at the head of the table. King Anthony Stark, your husband, is leaning back in his chair, dressed in his royal tunic, the crimson cloak draped over his broad shoulders. His crown rests on his dark hair, slightly tilted, and he flashes one of his signature grins as he listens to a noble’s report on trade routes. But as soon as he sees you enter, his entire demeanor softens.

“My queen,” Tony says, standing up. His tone, though formal for the sake of the council, holds an unmistakable warmth that only you are privileged to receive. His brown eyes sparkle, and you can’t help but feel your heart flutter.

“Your Majesty,” you greet, smiling as you approach him. The formalities between you are but a veil, hiding the deep affection that has only grown stronger with each passing year. You and Tony have ruled the kingdom side by side, an inseparable pair, beloved by your people. You’ve always been each other's greatest strength, and now, your bond is about to grow even more profound.

You give the council a quick glance, knowing that what you are about to say is for Tony's ears only. “Might I have a moment with the king?”

The advisors exchange looks, then rise, bowing before excusing themselves. Tony watches them file out, and once the door closes behind the last of them, his playful smirk returns. He steps closer, taking your hand in his. "To what do I owe the pleasure, my queen? Sneaking away from your duties just to see me? I thought I was the one who couldn't keep away."

You chuckle softly, feeling his thumb gently caress your knuckles. “There is something I must tell you,” you begin, suddenly realizing how emotional the words make you feel. But Tony senses the shift in your tone before you can say more. His smile falters, replaced by concern, and he brings his other hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice low, tender. “Are you alright?”

You nod, the smile returning to your lips. “I am more than alright, Tony. In fact, I’m… happier than I ever thought possible.”

His brow furrows slightly, but there’s a hopeful light in his eyes. “Y/N, you’re killing me with suspense. What is it?”

You take a deep breath, your heart swelling with the joy of what you’re about to share. “I’m with child, Tony. We’re going to have a baby.”

For a moment, it seems as though the entire world stills. Tony blinks, his eyes widening as he processes your words. His hands, still holding yours, tighten ever so slightly as if he’s afraid to let go. “Y-You’re…” He trails off, his voice a whisper.

You nod, your eyes shining. “Yes, my love. We’re going to be parents.”

A beat passes, and then—suddenly, a wide, joyous grin breaks across Tony’s face. He lets out a breathless laugh, his hand immediately dropping to your waist as he pulls you into a tight embrace. “A baby? We’re having a baby?” he repeats, his voice incredulous, filled with awe and wonder.

You laugh, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Yes, Tony. We’re going to have a child. An heir to the throne.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his face alight with a joy you’ve never seen before. “You… you’ve just made me the happiest man in the world.” His voice is thick with emotion, and for a moment, you think you see tears in his eyes, though he quickly blinks them away. “Our child… I—” He lets out a soft laugh again, shaking his head as though he can’t believe it. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, your heart full. “And this child will be so loved, so cherished. By both of us.”

Tony kisses you then, his lips capturing yours in a way that feels like both a promise and a celebration. When he pulls away, his hands rest on your waist, his eyes scanning your face as if committing every part of you to memory in this perfect moment. “I’m going to be a father,” he says again, more to himself this time, a mixture of wonder and pride in his voice.

“And you’ll be the best father,” you say softly, running your fingers through his hair.

Tony lets out a deep breath, then presses his forehead to yours. “Our kingdom… our family. Everything I’ve ever wanted is right here with you. We’re going to raise the future of this kingdom together.”

You nod, your heart swelling with emotion. Together, you’ve built a kingdom that thrives under your love and leadership, and now, you’ll build a family. The future feels brighter than ever.

Outside, in the courtyard below, the sound of life continues—knights training, children playing, merchants trading. But in this moment, in this room, it’s just the two of you, holding the promise of a future filled with love, laughter, and the tiny life growing inside you.

Days pass, and the secret between you and Tony feels like a precious gem that only the two of you are allowed to admire. Every glance, every brush of his hand when no one is looking, holds a deeper meaning now. In private, Tony can barely contain his excitement. He dotes on you constantly—making sure you’re resting, eating well, even having the kitchen prepare your favorite dishes with special care. His teasing remarks have softened into something gentler, more intimate. And every night, when the palace quiets down and it’s just the two of you, his hands drift to your belly as though already protecting what lies within.

But in public, you both maintain the dignified roles of king and queen. Tony is ever the charismatic leader—confident, sharp, and beloved by the people. You, regal and poised, stand beside him, both of you perfectly composed. Yet, there’s a shared secret in every look exchanged, every whispered word when no one is listening.

Finally, the day arrives when the news can no longer be kept hidden. Tony has insisted on a grand announcement, one that will not only share the joy but allow the entire kingdom to celebrate the future of their monarchy. It is to be a day of feasting, music, and revelry, and preparations have been underway since sunrise.

Now, standing in the royal balcony that overlooks the central square, you feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you—not with anxiety, but with awe. You glance at Tony beside you, his hand resting subtly on the small of your back, hidden by his cloak. He is every bit the king today—his crown shining brightly in the midday sun, his posture commanding respect, and yet, beneath it all, you can see the excited flicker in his eyes.

“Are you ready, my queen?” he murmurs softly, his lips barely moving as he leans in, just close enough for only you to hear.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “With you by my side, always.”

His smile turns a bit warmer, and though it’s a public moment, he gently squeezes your waist in silent affection. Then, Tony steps forward, raising his hand to signal for silence among the crowd below. The bustling marketplace, already filled with anticipation, stills as the people of your kingdom turn their eyes to their rulers.

Tony’s voice rings out clearly, commanding attention but also filled with warmth. “People of Starkhaven,” he begins, his voice carrying across the square, “Today is a day unlike any other. You have honored us with your loyalty and your trust, and in return, we have worked tirelessly to build a kingdom that thrives—a kingdom of peace, strength, and unity.”

There’s a cheer from the crowd, a roar of approval and pride. You can see the faces of your people below, filled with adoration. They love Tony. They love you. The sense of responsibility that comes with that love is overwhelming, but in this moment, it’s not just a burden—it’s a bond, a connection between ruler and subject.

Tony waits for the noise to settle before continuing, his hand returning to your back as if to steady you. “And today,” he says, his voice softer now, more intimate, “we share with you a personal joy. A joy that belongs to both your queen and myself, but also to each and every one of you.”

You take a deep breath, your heart racing as the words you’ve held inside for so long are about to be released into the world. Tony turns to you, his eyes shining with pride and love, silently inviting you to speak.

You step forward slightly, your voice steady despite the emotion rising in your chest. “The kingdom you have helped us build, the peace we all cherish… it will continue long after we are gone. For we are blessed to announce that we are expecting our first child.”

There is a moment of silence as the words sink in, and then, as if the entire kingdom has taken a collective breath, the square erupts in cheers. The sound is deafening but joyous, and you can see the people below clapping, shouting, hugging one another. It’s as if your news has given them a reason to celebrate not just your future, but their own.

Tony steps closer to you, his arm now fully around your waist, his thumb brushing against your side in a rare display of public affection. His grin is wide, genuine, and as he looks out over the cheering crowd, he raises his hand once more. “Let the kingdom rejoice!” he declares, his voice booming with pride. “For today, we celebrate not just our future heir but the strength and unity of our people. Let there be a feast in every home, music in every street, and joy in every heart!”

The crowd roars in approval, and already, musicians begin to play in the square below. Market stalls burst into activity, their owners calling out to sell food and drink for the festivities that will last long into the night. From your vantage point, you can see the entire kingdom come alive, as though the news of your child has brought with it a wave of hope and happiness.

Tony turns to you, his hand cupping your cheek briefly before he remembers the eyes on both of you. He leans in and whispers against your ear, his voice filled with nothing but adoration. “Look at them, Y/N. You’ve given them a reason to hope. You’ve given me everything I could ever dream of.”

You smile, feeling the emotion welling up again. “It’s not just me, Tony. We’ve done this together.”

His eyes are soft as they meet yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, shared moment. “Together,” he repeats, his voice thick with emotion. “Always.”

As the music swells and the people of Starkhaven celebrate below, you stand beside Tony, your king, your love. And in this moment, surrounded by the joy of your kingdom, you know without a doubt that your reign will be one of peace, prosperity, and love—not just for your people, but for the family you are about to begin.

The soft light of the late afternoon filters through the curtains of your private chambers, casting a warm glow over the room. It’s a quiet moment, the kind you’ve come to treasure now more than ever. The palace may be grand, bustling with life and duty, but here, in the sanctuary of your shared space with Tony, it feels as though the rest of the world has faded away.

You sit by the window, hand resting on the growing swell of your belly, your back cushioned by soft pillows that Tony insisted be brought in for your comfort. Your gown, loose and flowing, rests easily over your now-round belly, and you can feel the faint fluttering of movement inside, a reminder that life is growing within you.

You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in the peaceful silence, when you hear the soft creak of the door. You don’t need to open your eyes to know it’s him. Tony’s presence fills the room even before he speaks.

“Caught you daydreaming again,” his voice is playful, though softer than usual, as though he’s afraid to break the stillness of the moment.

You smile without turning. “I was just thinking… about how much has changed in the last few months.”

Tony walks toward you, his boots barely making a sound on the thick rug. When he reaches your side, he doesn’t sit immediately. Instead, he kneels in front of you, his hands finding your knees, his touch gentle. “All good changes, I hope,” he teases, though the affection in his voice is undeniable.

“All good,” you assure him, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair, an intimate gesture that speaks of the trust and love between you.

Tony’s eyes, warm and dark, drift to your belly, and as he does every time he sees you now, his hands move to rest on the curve of your stomach. His touch is reverent, as though the life growing within you is something sacred. “I still can’t believe it sometimes,” he murmurs, his thumb lightly brushing over the fabric of your gown. “That our child is in there.”

You chuckle softly, watching him as he gazes at your belly with a mixture of awe and tenderness. “I think I believe it a little more each day,” you say, shifting slightly. “Our child is starting to make their presence known more and more.”

Tony looks up at you, his eyes bright with excitement. “Still kicking?” he asks, his tone light but hopeful.

You nod. “Yes, every now and then. Sometimes at night when you’re already asleep.”

Tony’s brow furrows in mock dismay. “They’re already plotting to keep me out of the loop, huh?” He leans forward, pressing his ear gently to your belly. “Hey, little one,” he says in a low, affectionate tone. “Your father’s right here. Anytime you want to give me a sign, I’m all ears.”

You smile down at him, your heart swelling with affection. He’s always been playful, always had that sharp wit and charm that you adore, but there’s something different about him now. Something softer, more vulnerable. It’s as if the realization that he’s about to become a father has unlocked a new side of him, one that dotes on you constantly, one that speaks to your growing belly like the child can already hear and understand every word.

“I think they already know they have you wrapped around their little finger,” you tease, brushing a lock of dark hair from Tony’s forehead.

He grins, sitting back on his heels but keeping one hand on your belly. “They definitely do. Just like you do.” There’s no teasing in his voice now, only a quiet, sincere love that makes your heart ache in the best way.

Tony stands, gently pulling you up with him, guiding you to the plush couch where you both often spend your evenings. He sits first, then tugs you down beside him, arranging pillows so you can lean back comfortably. His arm immediately finds its place around you, pulling you close as your head rests on his shoulder.

He’s careful with you, always mindful of your growing belly, never letting you lift a finger more than necessary. At first, you tried to insist you were perfectly capable of doing things yourself, but Tony wouldn’t hear it. “You’re carrying our future,” he’d said one night with a smirk. “You get to relax. I’ll handle everything else.”

Now, you’ve grown used to his doting, even finding it endearing. The way he watches over you, the way he insists on fetching things for you or helping you sit down—it’s all part of his way of showing love, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Do you ever wonder what they’ll be like?” you ask softly, your hand resting over Tony’s where it rests on your belly. “Our child.”

“All the time,” Tony replies, his voice low, thoughtful. “I wonder if they’ll have your kindness, your strength. Or maybe they’ll be a stubborn little thing like their father.” He chuckles, but there’s a fondness in his tone that makes your heart swell.

You turn your head slightly to look up at him. “I hope they get your sense of humor. This kingdom could use a little more laughter.”

Tony grins. “Oh, they’ll definitely get that. Can’t be a Stark without a sharp wit.”

You laugh softly, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, his hand still gently caressing your belly. There’s a peace between you now, a contentment that feels like it could stretch on forever. You don’t need grand gestures or declarations in these moments—it’s the simple intimacy that means the most.

“I wonder if they’ll look like you,” you muse quietly, your fingers tracing lazy circles over Tony’s hand. “Dark hair, sharp eyes. They’ll be beautiful.”

Tony’s eyes soften, and he presses a kiss to your temple. “If they look anything like you, they’ll be perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “But no matter what, they’ll have us. And we’ll love them more than anything.”

You close your eyes, leaning further into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing beneath you. “They’re going to be so lucky,” you whisper. “To have you as a father.”

Tony lets out a soft laugh, but there’s a vulnerable edge to it. “I don’t know about that,” he says quietly, his fingers stilling on your belly for a moment. “But I do know that I’m going to do everything I can to be the best father I can be. For them. And for you.”

You tilt your head up, your eyes meeting his. “You already are, Tony.”

His gaze holds yours for a long moment before he leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. When he pulls away, his hand slips beneath your gown to rest directly on your belly, skin to skin. The gesture feels intimate, grounding, as though he’s trying to connect with both you and the child within you all at once.

“I can’t wait to meet them,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your skin gently. “But for now… I’ll just keep talking to them. Let them know how much we love them already.”

You smile, resting your hand over his. “They know, Tony. They know.”

And in the quiet warmth of your chambers, with Tony’s arm wrapped protectively around you and the soft fluttering of life growing inside you, you feel that your future is brighter than you ever could have imagined.

The air in the royal chambers is thick with anticipation. Candles flicker in the dim light of the early morning, casting long shadows on the stone walls. Outside, the palace is quiet, but inside, there’s an electric charge in the air—an expectant hum that courses through every servant, every healer, and certainly through you. The time has come.

You grip the edge of the bed, breathing deeply, as a fresh wave of pain washes over you. Tony is right by your side, his hand clasping yours, his face a mixture of concern and awe. He’s been here with you for hours now, refusing to leave your side even when the royal healers suggested he might be better off waiting in the antechamber. But Tony wouldn’t hear of it. “She’s my queen,” he’d said, his voice firm, eyes unwavering. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And he hasn’t.

His thumb brushes over your knuckles now, his grip warm and strong, grounding you through the pain. “You’re doing amazing,” he murmurs, leaning close, his forehead brushing against yours. His voice is gentle, but there’s an edge of tension in it, like he’s holding his breath. “Just a little longer, my love. Just a little longer.”

You nod, though your breath comes in quick, shallow bursts as another contraction takes hold. You’ve never felt anything quite like this—the intensity, the overwhelming ache—and yet, you feel Tony’s unwavering presence beside you, his love wrapping around you like a protective shield.

Time seems to stretch and warp, each moment bleeding into the next until finally, with a final push and a cry that feels like it comes from the very depths of your soul, it’s over.

And then—a sound. The tiny, piercing wail of a newborn fills the air.

The room seems to still, and for a moment, everything else falls away. All you can focus on is that sound—the first cry of your child, the life that you and Tony have created together.

The healer, her face flushed but smiling, wraps the newborn in soft linens and steps forward, offering the child to you. “Your Majesty,” she says, her voice soft with reverence. “It’s a girl.”

A girl.

You blink, the words sinking in slowly, and then—there she is. A tiny, perfect bundle, her face scrunched up, her fists waving in the air as if already determined to make her presence known in the world. You feel an overwhelming surge of emotion, a love so fierce it takes your breath away.

You look at Tony, whose eyes are wide, glistening with unshed tears as he gazes down at your daughter. “A girl,” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he’s afraid to break the fragile magic of the moment.

The healer gently places the baby in your arms, and as soon as you feel the weight of her against your chest, something inside you shifts. This is your daughter. Your child. The heir to the throne.

Tony leans in, his arm wrapping around you as he gazes down at the tiny girl in your arms. His fingers brush over her cheek, so delicate, so impossibly small. “She’s perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

You laugh softly, though it’s mixed with tears. “We did it, Tony,” you whisper, unable to take your eyes off your daughter. “She’s here.”

He kisses the side of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. “You did it,” he corrects gently, his voice filled with awe. “You brought her into this world, and I… I’m just… I can’t believe it.” His hand rests on her tiny head, cradling her with the same tenderness he always shows you.

“She’s the first girl,” you murmur after a moment, the realization settling in. “In all of Starkhaven’s history… no woman has ever inherited the throne.” The weight of it—the sheer magnitude of what this means for your daughter, for the kingdom—hits you. A girl. The firstborn. The future queen.

Tony, however, doesn’t seem concerned with politics right now. His eyes are locked on your daughter, a soft, almost boyish grin spreading across his face. “Well,” he says, his tone light, “then it’s about time a woman ruled, don’t you think?”

You look up at him, surprised by how easily he says it, how little it seems to matter to him that this breaks centuries of tradition. But that’s Tony. When it comes to you, to your family, he’s never been one to follow the rules. His love for you, for your daughter, eclipses everything else. Politics, history—they’re just details. Right now, all that matters is that you’re here, safe, with your child.

“She’s going to be a force to be reckoned with,” he says, his voice soft but full of pride. “Just like her mother.”

You smile, your heart swelling as you look down at your baby girl. Her tiny fingers curl around yours, and you feel that connection—the bond between mother and child that is stronger than anything you’ve ever known. “She’ll have your strength too,” you whisper. “Your heart. And we’ll raise her together. She’ll be loved, so deeply.”

Tony nods, his hand still resting on her head, his thumb brushing over her soft skin. “We’ll raise her to be kind and wise. She’ll be a queen, but more than that, she’ll be everything this kingdom needs.”

You glance at him, seeing the love and pride etched into every line of his face. “But we need to give her a name,” you say softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Our daughter deserves the perfect name.”

Tony leans back slightly, his eyes narrowing in playful thought. “Hmm, I was thinking something strong. Something royal, like…” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Antonia.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Tony, no.”

He grins. “What? It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Queen Antonia Stark. I think she’d appreciate being named after her incredibly charming father.”

“I think not,” you tease, though the warmth in your voice makes it clear you’re in no hurry to rush this moment. “We need something unique. Something that will honor the future she’ll shape.”

You both fall silent, thinking. The room is still, save for the soft sound of your daughter’s breathing. And then, an idea comes to you. “What about Lyanna?” you suggest quietly. “After my grandmother. She was a woman of strength and wisdom, much like I hope our daughter will be.”

Tony’s eyes light up, and he nods slowly, as if tasting the name on his tongue. “Lyanna,” he repeats, his voice soft. “It’s beautiful. Just like her.”

You smile, feeling the weight of the name settle over your daughter, a name that carries history but also hope for the future. “Lyanna Stark,” you whisper. “Our daughter. Our future queen.”

Tony presses another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if sealing the moment in time. “She’s going to change everything,” he murmurs. “And we’ll be right there with her, every step of the way.”

You nod, your heart full as you gaze down at your newborn daughter, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. She is everything you never knew you needed. And in this moment, surrounded by love, you know that whatever challenges the future holds, you will face them together. The three of you—Tony, you, and your daughter—are a family. A new legacy begins with her.

And Starkhaven will never be the same again.

The day has finally come.

The throne room is alive with anticipation, a hum of excitement running through the gathered nobles, advisors, and esteemed citizens who have been invited to witness the long-awaited announcement. It’s been months since the birth of your daughter, Princess Lyanna, but for her safety, she has remained mostly hidden from the public eye, known only to a few close confidants.

Today, that changes. Today, the kingdom will meet their future queen.

You stand beside Tony at the grand entrance to the room, dressed in your royal finery. He wears his crown and the deep crimson and gold of Starkhaven, his posture straight and confident, but there’s a warmth in his eyes as he gazes at you and the tiny figure you hold in your arms. Lyanna, swaddled in silk embroidered with the royal crest, her dark hair already showing beneath her cap, is the picture of serenity, her little body tucked safely against you.

Tony leans in slightly, his hand resting at the small of your back, his voice low and affectionate. “Are you ready for this, my queen?”

You smile, glancing up at him. “I’ve been ready for months, but it’s our little one who’s the star today.”

He grins, his eyes flicking to your daughter with a mixture of pride and amusement. “She’s going to steal the hearts of the entire kingdom, you know. Just like her mother did.”

The herald steps forward to announce the arrival of the royal family, his voice booming through the hall. “Presenting Their Majesties, King Anthony and Queen Y/N of Starkhaven, and their firstborn child, the heir to the throne…”

There’s a pause, a beat of silence that seems to stretch forever.

“… Princess Lyanna Stark.”

The room erupts into a murmur of disbelief. Whispers ripple through the crowd, shock and confusion passing through the assembled faces. It’s no secret that Starkhaven has never had a queen inherit the throne. For generations, the kingdom has always been ruled by men, and the people had likely expected the king and queen’s firstborn to follow that tradition.

You take a deep breath, stepping forward with Tony at your side, Lyanna held securely in your arms. As you move to the dais, you feel the weight of centuries of tradition pressing against you, but it doesn’t crush you. Not when you know that this moment will change everything—for you, for Tony, and for your daughter.

When you reach the top, you turn to face the crowd. Tony is the first to speak.

“My people,” he begins, his voice clear and strong, echoing through the hall. “Today, we stand at the crossroads of history. You have served this kingdom with loyalty and devotion, and in return, it has been our greatest honor to serve as your king and queen.”

He pauses, glancing at you with a warm, reassuring smile before continuing. “Today, we introduce to you the heir to the throne of Starkhaven. Our daughter, Princess Lyanna.”

Another wave of murmurs sweeps through the crowd, but this time there’s something else beneath the initial shock—curiosity, intrigue, and slowly, acceptance.

Tony holds up a hand, and the room quiets once more. “For centuries, our kingdom has been ruled by kings, but that does not mean that only a son is fit to wear the crown. We are entering a new age, an age where strength and wisdom are not confined by tradition, but by the heart. And I tell you this with all the conviction of a king and a father—there is no one more suited to lead Starkhaven into the future than my daughter, your future queen.”

He looks to you, and you step forward, gently pulling back the silken cloth to reveal Lyanna’s face to the gathered crowd. Her eyes are closed, her tiny fist resting against her cheek, completely unaware of the history being made around her.

There’s a collective intake of breath, and then—slowly, as if in a ripple—applause begins. First hesitant, but then growing stronger, until the room is filled with the sound of hands clapping, feet stamping, and voices raised in approval. You see the surprise in the faces of some of the older nobles, but you also catch the bright, inspired gazes of the younger women in the room. They look at Lyanna with wide, hopeful eyes, as though seeing their own futures reflected in her.

Tony beams beside you, the pride unmistakable in his expression, and you can’t help but smile, your heart swelling with love for him and for the little girl cradled in your arms.

Then, a voice from the crowd rings out, clear and full of emotion. “Long live Princess Lyanna! Long live the future queen!”

The chant is picked up by others, and soon the entire hall is resounding with the cry: “Long live Princess Lyanna!”

It is a moment of pure triumph, a declaration that the kingdom is ready to embrace change, ready to follow a queen. You can see it in the faces of the women present, how the news of a female heir brings a light to their eyes that wasn’t there before. They whisper to one another, standing a little straighter, with a sense of pride and possibility.

You meet Tony’s gaze, and the warmth there is overwhelming. He leans in close, his voice barely above a whisper as he says, “I told you she’d change everything.”

You laugh softly, your heart full. “She’s barely a few months old, and already she’s a legend.”

Tony smiles, his eyes glinting with that familiar mischievous charm. “Of course she is. She’s a Stark.”

As the crowd continues to chant Lyanna’s name, the applause growing louder, the music begins to swell, signaling the start of a grand feast in her honor. The kingdom has embraced her, your daughter, their future queen. And though the road ahead may be filled with challenges, you know in this moment that Lyanna’s reign will be one of strength, unity, and hope.

You and Tony step down from the dais, moving through the crowd, accepting their well-wishes and smiles as they bow in respect. Lyanna stirs in your arms, her tiny eyes blinking open for the first time since the announcement. She gazes up at you with wide, curious eyes, and a soft smile spreads across your lips as you whisper, “Look, little one. Your kingdom awaits.”

It’s a quiet afternoon in the royal gardens, the air warm and filled with the scent of blooming flowers. Sunlight streams through the treetops, casting a soft, golden glow over the garden. You sit on a cushioned bench, one hand resting on the gentle curve of your belly, watching with a smile as Tony chases Lyanna through the grass.

Lyanna, now a bright and spirited toddler, squeals with laughter as her father chases her, his steps deliberately exaggerated and clumsy as he pretends to struggle to catch her. She’s dressed in a light gown, though her little crown keeps slipping as she runs, her curls bouncing with each step. Her laughter echoes through the garden, infectious and pure, and you feel your heart swell watching them together.

“Careful, Princess,” Tony calls, his voice filled with playful warmth. He’s down on one knee now, arms spread wide, beckoning her to run into his grasp. “Come here, or I’ll have to send the knights to capture you!”

Lyanna giggles, spinning in a tight circle before darting toward him. She’s full of energy and confidence, even at this age, already carrying herself with a natural grace that leaves no doubt she’ll make a fine queen one day. But right now, she’s only a little girl, wrapped up in the joy of playing with her father.

When she finally reaches Tony, he scoops her up, lifting her high above his head and spinning her around. She shrieks in delight, clutching onto his shoulders as he holds her tight. He pulls her close, dropping a gentle kiss on her forehead before lowering her back to the ground.

“Did you catch the princess?” you ask, your voice light with amusement as Tony guides her back toward you.

“I did,” he says, setting her down beside you with a flourish. “But I think she let herself get caught.” He winks at you, a playful glint in his eye, then turns back to Lyanna. “Isn’t that right, little one?”

Lyanna grins, clutching onto his hand and leaning against your knee as she gazes up at you. Her eyes—so much like Tony’s—are bright with joy, and she reaches a tiny hand out to rest it gently on your belly.

“Baby,” she says softly, her voice full of wonder. She’s been enchanted by the idea of a sibling ever since you and Tony shared the news, though you know she doesn’t fully understand it yet. But she pats your belly with a look of pride, like she’s already the protective big sister.

“Yes, love,” you say, covering her hand with yours. “There’s a baby in there. Your little brother or sister.” You glance up at Tony, and the two of you share a smile, a silent exchange of love and joy.

Tony kneels beside Lyanna, his arm slipping around her shoulders as he gazes at you, his eyes soft. “Do you think they’ll be as mischievous as this one?” he teases, pulling Lyanna in for a quick hug.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” you reply, chuckling. “With you as their father, I expect nothing less.”

Tony laughs, feigning a look of shock. “Me? Mischievous? You wound me, my queen.”

You smile, reaching out to brush a hand along his cheek. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His eyes soften, and he takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your palm. “No,” he says quietly, “I wouldn’t. These are the days I cherish most. Watching her grow, knowing our family is growing…” His gaze shifts to Lyanna, who’s now plucking at some flowers at your feet, utterly oblivious to the depth of her father’s love.

He watches her for a long moment, a look of pride and wonder on his face. He’s smitten with her, just as much as the rest of the kingdom. She’s the beloved princess, already adored by the people and known throughout Starkhaven for her kindness and spirited nature. You know it won’t be long before they start whispering about the future queen she’ll become, but for now, she’s just Lyanna—your daughter, his little girl.

As the sun dips lower in the sky, Tony pulls Lyanna into his lap, and she curls up against his chest, her little fingers toying with the chain around his neck. He looks over at you, his free hand resting on your growing belly, his gaze filled with a love that seems almost too vast for words.

“She’s our legacy,” he says softly, his voice a gentle rumble as he holds Lyanna close. “And so is the one on the way.” He looks at you, his eyes shining. “But you—you’re the heart of it all, my queen. You’re the one who makes this kingdom feel like home.”

Your heart warms, and you lean over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “And you’re the one who keeps us all laughing,” you murmur, your voice filled with affection. “The one who makes it all feel safe.”

The three of you sit there in the fading light, a peaceful, perfect little family. Lyanna drifts off in Tony’s arms, her tiny hand clutching his tunic, her face nestled against his shoulder. He cradles her with infinite tenderness, his fingers tracing patterns along her back as he watches her sleep.

In this moment, with the sun setting and the future bright before you, you know that whatever may come, your family is the legacy that will endure. Starkhaven will be safe, guided by the love, strength, and laughter that have already shaped its future.

And with Tony by your side, your daughter in your arms, and another on the way, you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

I love love royal AUs, especially the ones set in historical royalties like this one, idk why, it feels so magical I guess. If you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog and drop a follow if you want to learn more! <3

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hearts4werka · 27 days ago

Text

NNN day 3 | Skin Deep Scars

summary: you’ve been born into a rich controlling family, always having to stay on top and never cross the line. You tried to please your mother but never could be enough for your mother’s standards, your father was mostly at work and away at business trips so both of you hardly ever interacted with each other. That’s until you got into an argument about your new friend chris who was the polar opposite of you, what do you think will happen next?

warnings: ANGST, !parental abuse!, arguing (again ik), family issues, swearing, manipulation, controlling mother figure, !burning skin!, slight fighting, crying, !mentions of childhood trauma! And this contains sensitive topics for many (even me) so please I advice to read this with caution and knowingly what you’re consuming.

authors note: day 3 is behind us now, thank yall so much for all of the love on the past fics I seriously rlly appreciate it. Yall can drop some ideas for future days and fics outside of this in my inbox and I’ll be happy to write them, I don’t have my computer with me rn so I’ll make the gradient text when I’m at my computer again, hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

Escalated screams and yells fill the large space of the room, making my ears want to fall off as foul words continue to fall from my mother’s mouth. It’s not the first time my mother has yelled at me for the most stupidest bullshit ever known to mankind and this is one of them, somehow it never turned psychical between us which could be a shocker for some of the others considering how loud she is screaming and shouting that you would think she’d hit me by now or at least threaten to.

“You are bringing such shame to this family! It’s unacceptable!” She shouts, her face contoured with pure anger. I might as well see smoke coming out of her ears by now, rolling my eyes as I feel my own anger rise inside of me at how ridiculous she is being right now. “I bring shame? What about you sleeping around behind dad’s back, huh?” I argue back, not letting her bring me down and standing my ground. She gasps dramatically as if I insulted her whole bloodline, pressing her hand to her chest to make her seem more like a victim.

“Don’t you dare speak of that! This isn’t about my mistakes, it’s about yours!” She attempts to defend her name but fails miserably, thinking if she raises her voice higher than me she’ll have the high ground and take the upper hand in this argument. “You’re the one that’s hanging out with that street rat and even dare to invite him to this house!” My blood boils to high temperatures at her insult targeted towards Chris, well she isn’t very fond of him and his lifestyle or he of how she treats me from all of the stories I’ve previously told him.

Summarizing that thought, their hatred is mutual towards themselves. “Don’t bring him into this, he has nothing to do with this! It was one lower grade, mom!” I yell defensively, the level of my irritation rising with each second of just breathing in the tense air in the room. “That he caused by the influence he has on you! I just want the best for you, honey.” She tries to twist her tone into a softer one but I can feel the fakeness radiating off it the minute it comes past her lips, how pathetic.

“You aren’t convincing anyone with that fake tone, that’s for sure.” I state annoyingly as she attempts to move closer to me but when she sees me backing away she just gives up with trying to convince me into doing anything she wants with the same old method and decides on a newly invented one. “Fine, maybe I wont convince you at least but your father is pretty gullible and he’ll do anything I ask him to do. Even if i feed him a couple lies involving you and that little skank.”

I narrow my eyes at her, not believing her words at first until she shoots me a specific look which informs me she isn’t playing around, raising her eyebrow and slightly dipping her chin just always has her whole bitchy personality written all over her face in that moment. My face normally would drop in color but at this point I didn’t care, she brought Chris into this who has nothing to do with this and shouldn’t be assumed as the cause of my lower grade. It was one of the hardest exams this semester and even when I studied harder than ever and got the highest grade in my class, she still doesn’t appreciate my hard work.

My head decides its the perfect time to bring up the first time I got a lower grade, being only at the age as young as seven she was already pressuring me into being perfect and didn’t even allow me to have a normal childhood only filling me with more work and mental pressure I often was too tired to do anything the next morning after studying all night in hopes to attempt to please my mother but no matter what I did, she never fully appreciated it and always found something bad to point out.

Start of Flashback

I excitedly run into the living room with my test clutched in my head, my dress flowing in the slight breeze coming from the window. A proud smile spread on my face as I reach the living room where mommy resided in sitting on the couch, holding up my paper for her vision to see the teachers red mark saying ‘79/100’ in the corner of the paper. “Look mommy, my teacher said I got the highest grade in my class on the test!” I exclaim proudly, waiting for my applause but was met with silence. Tilting my head to the side to glance at my mommy confused on why she is quiet but she had only a disgusted and an unimpressed look shadowing her face.

She notices my confused expression and finally speaks, turning her head away from me and back at the tv “Honey, that’s not good enough for this family. Study harder next time.” She states without any sympathy in her voice as she goes back to her activity like nothing happened, my eyes slightly start to water. Why am I not good enough for mommy? Why isn’t mommy proud of me and saying nice words like my teacher was? My arms drop down to my sides with the paper still clutched in my small arms.

“What do you mean, mommy?” I ask curiously, my voice becoming slight wobbly as shaky breaths enter an exit past my lips. “My teacher said I did great and even gave me a lollipop!” I add, now my sadness being evident and that’s when mommy looked at me and sees me upset. “Oh baby, you know what I told you about eating too much sweets. And a 76 isn’t high enough for the reputation our family has.” She says in a reassuring voice, seeming as if she wanted the best for me and me being the gullible and innocent child, not realizing she’s manipulating me into doing whatever her heart desired and shaping me into a perfect little toy to play in her game.

“I just want the best for you honey and you know that, I would never do anything to hurt you, ever.” She calmly assured in a soft tone, she walks over to me and wipes my tear-stained cheek with her thumb and looks at me with fake sympathy mixed with fake remorse. “Now go to your room and study for the next test, mommy has to go attend to some things, okay?” I nod my head yes and ran off into my room, the paper flying out of my hand and landing in the floor. My body immediately jumping onto my bed and bury my face into the nearby pillow as I clutch my favorite stuffed animal to my chest…

End of Flashback

I remember crying the rest of the night and thought it was normal and everyone’s mother was pressuring them into being better than every other kid and always perfect to upkeep the family’s ‘perfect’ reputation. Now that I’ve grown up and caught onto my mother’s manipulative acts, letting me have the upper hand in some regards. “You’re pure goddamn evil, I can’t believe you’re trying to scare me with dad out of all people.” I huff, feeling my body become more tense by the second before adding. “Better than one of the guys you cheated on dad with.” After the words leave my mouth, she immediately darts towards me and gets impossibly closer to my face. Glaring at me as if she wanted to strangle the shit out of me.

“I said, don’t you dare bring that into this situation, young lady!” She warns, her voice completely shifting from fake sympathy to rage and evilness. One of her hands raises and she sticks out her finger, getting it in my face as if to try and scare me further but I only laugh in her face. “One more word out of your mouth and I make one call to your father, singing like a bird to him about all of the things you’ve said to your own mother.” She wipes imaginary tears off from under her eyes, pretending to be upset and hurt as if she’s the victim here. “You’re such an ungrateful brat, I’m surprised we haven’t kicked you out the house yet. You always disappoint us and bring total shame to the family.”

An evil laugh rumbles in her throat, I don’t see her as a loving mother I thought I had. No, I see her as the worst and most controlling mother ever known to mankind and I feel ashamed being in the proximity of her and letting her walk all over me like a doormat. She takes a few steps back and finally puts some distance between our bodies, I sharply inhale the tense air surrounding us as the following words fall from her mouth that I was just waiting for her to speak.

“I regret you were even born, more with every passing minute. Me and your father never wanted a girl, but a boy and at one point were debating to put you in an orphanage or give you away, another decision I regret making.”

Before my mother could say another word, I deliver a slap across her face and throw the words out of her mouth. She looks up at me, completely livid and fet up with this little cat fight between us. “That’s it, you’re getting punished hardly this time.” She angrily exclaims and roughly grasps my arm, dragging me into the kitchen by pure mad force. I try to escape her vice grip but it only makes it tighter, the feeling of pain and a bruise coming in spreads across my whole body as I see her walking towards the stove.

I start to get more desperate to escape, almost beginning to scream for her to stop and don’t do what I know she’s about to do. She did it before when I talked back to her ever and looks like today her strings popped too much, we get to the stove and she ticks it on, the flame blooming to life as she forces my arm above it. “Please, mom dont do this…” I weakly plead as the burning sensation starts to hit my skin, spreading across my whole arm. I cry out in pain and pleads for her to stop, quiet curses falling from my lips as she only glances at me sternly. Tears prick my eyes and burn down my cheeks, she continues to hold my arm over the flames and brings it closer.

My body starts squiring around, my pleads getting more and more desperate as more tears fall from my eyes. “Stop! Please, mom I’m begging you stop!” Shaky breaths fill the air and accompany the growing cries and pleads to my mother. “Stop moving around, you brat! Are you going to still be disobedient towards me now?” She asks mockingly as I think she’s going to burn my skin off, someone pushes her off me and I immediately fall to the ground in pure agony. The uncontrollable cries continuing to fall from my mouth, my eyes landing on the severe burn mark left behind on my arm, my eyes start to burn themselves from the amount of tears filling them at once

“What in the actual fuck is happening here?” I hear a familiar voice yell out as I don’t think about who it could be until they kneel down next to me and I realize it’s Chris, I forgot I invited him over today. I can’t believe he’s seeing me in this state right now, he glances at my arm and immediately grasps it gently into his hands. “Jesus Christ, we need to get you some serious help, cmon we gotta go to the hospital.” He calls out and helps me get up and stand on my feet, rushing me out of the house and looking around for something to quickly get me where I severely need to be right now. “You got a private driver here somewhere?” He questions and I nod negatively, there aren’t any available unless you ask for one beforehand.

‘Fuck, umm- okay then let’s just take.. your car!” He exclaims nervously, pointing towards one of the cars in the driveway. Quickly running over to it and rushing me inside of it, getting into the drivers seat and trying to start the car. When he finally gets a hang of the functioning of the car he quickly presses down on the gas and speeds out of the driveway and towards the hospital…

Guestlist!

| - @sturnioloblues - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - |

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bumbleklee · 2 years ago

Text

something happens and im head over heels (diluc x reader)

hi hello hi! havent posted in a while so please be gentle with me (i am fragile). feel free to leave a comment, would love to chat with you guys about this little piece

pairing: diluc x gn!reader

characters: diluc, baby!klee, reader, unnamed neighbor

synopsis: diluc is stuck babysitting his neighbor’s baby–the only problem? he isn’t really the babysitting type. good thing you are!

key tags: minor cursing, babyfic, first kiss, clueless diluc, modern!au (technically college era but no mention of college), lowkey punk!diluc

word count: 4109

“I tried calling Jean but she isn’t around and then I phoned Eula but I think I sent her into overdrive at just the thought of babysitting.” You hear Diluc shushing the baby in between words. “What if I just drop her off at the fire station and her mom can pick her up after her shift?”

“Okay–don’t do that.” You shake your head in bewilderment, imagining the absolute shit-show that would be. “You just need to calm down. She’s probably freaking out because you’re freaking out.”

There’s shuffling in the background and Diluc curses when he knocks something over. “She gave me a bag, right?” He continues, his voice laced with pure disconcertment, “And I don’t even know what half of this stuff is. There’s like a bunch of plastic thingies and a bag of powder that kind of looks like meth–”

“Not meth.” You interrupt him. “I mean, probably not meth.”

“That’s not the point,” Diluc emphasizes, “The point is that I’m a fucking loss and really need your help.”

(full story underneath cut)

Diluc Ragnvindr doesn’t know much about his neighbor. He knows that she’s young, probably in her late 20s or early 30s, and that she’s a single mom to a little baby girl (who has a tendency to wake up in the middle of the night and cry so loudly that it nearly wakes up everybody in their apartment building). He also knows that she works at the local hospital–specifically in the emergency room–and that her mom usually comes around every evening to watch the baby. But other than a simple wave to each other when they simultaneously take the trash out, Diluc doesn’t really know her.

So when she shows up on his doorstep at eight thirty at night with a bundle of pink blankets in her arms and a panicked look across her face, Diluc was, to say the least, surprised.

“Um, you’re Diluc, right?” She stammers nervously, bouncing the baby in her arms. “Crepus’ son?”

Diluc blinks once. Then twice. “Yeah,” He says, “That’s me.”

The woman stares at Diluc for a moment, like she was contemplating everything in her life that had led up to this point, before heaving a desolate sigh. “Is your dad home by any chance?” Her tone suggests she already knows the answers and Diluc catches her anxious eyes darting from him to the vague view of his living room.

“He’s away this weekend. Sorry.”

“Dammit.” His neighbor thinks for a while longer, clicking her tongue against the inside of her mouth a few times before asking, “Have you ever babysat before?”

Diluc holds back a laugh. Babysit? Him? This must have been a life-or-death situation if his sweet neighbor was asking him to watch her daughter. Because, sure, they didn’t know each other but Diluc doesn’t doubt for a moment that she has some assumptions based on his appearance alone.

“Err…isn’t there anyone else you can ask?” Diluc asks awkwardly, his eyes drifting down the apartment hallway as if someone much more suitable for the role is going to pop out.

“Believe me, you’re the last person I would have thought about asking.” His neighbor says nonchalantly and Diluc tries not to take offense. “But there was a bad accident on Route 46 and I was called in to the hospital. My mom is out of town too, otherwise I would have asked her. And–” She gestures to the closed doors lining the long hallway, “–I don’t even think anyone lives in those apartments. At least I know your place is habitable.” She pauses again and her eyes shift down, gazing sadly at the quiet baby in her arms. "It's so hard being a single parent...I barely have any help and just..."

Her voice wavers more and more with each word and it looks like she’s about to start crying. But before she could crack, Diluc huffs quietly and crosses his arms across his chest.

“Okay, okay,” He says exasperatedly. “I’ll watch her. Go save lives. Or whatever.”

His neighbor’s face lights up at his agreement and before Diluc can fully comprehend what's happening, the baby is being shoved in his arms and a black bag full of many things is dropped at his feet. She whirls around, straightening her scrubs, and looks over her shoulder one last time.

“Call the front desk if you need anything!” She calls, blowing a kiss to her daughter.

“Wait!” Diluc yells, a sudden wave of dread washing over him. “Does she need to eat? How do you change a diaper? Does she have a name?”

Ignoring his more-important questions, his neighbor yells back, “Her name is Klee! Thanks again!”

Diluc watches as his neighbor races towards the elevator at the end of the hall, presses a button, and disappears from view. He stares at the empty hallway for a second before the baby in his arms makes a noise–reminding him that, oh yeah, he’s in charge of a baby now.

He turns to look at the baby, his arms tightening around his tiny frame, and mumbles to no one in particular. “What did I get myself into?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Your phone rings four times before you manage to grab it. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” You say to the ringtone before grabbing your cell phone off your bedside table and swiping across the screen without bothering to look at who was calling you. “Hello?”

“Hey. I need your help.”

“Diluc?” You zone in on his voice and immediately pick out exhaustion, agitation, and even a little fear. And the more you listen, the more you notice…a crying baby? “I swear to God, Ragnvindr, if you kidnapped a baby and want me to be your getaway–”

“I didn’t kidnap anything!” Diluc abruptly snaps. “Shit, shit, it’s okay, Klee…” You rub your forehead in confusion as Diluc explains that he’s babysitting for his neighbor. “Fuck–everything was fine for, like, twenty minutes and then she started crying and she hasn’t stopped since! I don’t know what to do!”

You hold back a giggle. Of course notorious ‘bad boy’ Diluc Ragnvindr doesn't know what to do with a crying baby. You aren’t surprised–in fact, you’d be more surprised if he did know what to do.

“Not meth.” You interrupt him. “I mean, probably not meth.”

“That’s not the point,” Diluc emphasizes, “The point is that I’m a fucking loss and really need your help.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

When you finally get to Diluc’s apartment, his front door is unlocked so you let yourself inside. You assume your friend has his hands full with the baby anyways.

“Luc?” You ask, wandering into the disaster-zone Diluc calls his living room. Dish rags and bathroom towels are thrown everywhere, there were random baby items all over the floor, and the yellow powder that Diluc thought was meth was spilled on a couch cushion (and upon closer investigation, you realize it’s just baby formula). You snake down the apartment halls until you spot Diluc in the kitchen.

He already looks so spent. His hair is loose from its usual ponytail, locks frizzy and tangled, and his eyes are tired and pleading. He leans against the fridge, bouncing a wailing baby in his arms robotically.

“Hey.” You greet with a teasing smirk. “Nice baby. Where’d you get it?”

“Shut up.” Diluc murmurs, a frown etched deep into his face. Your smirk morphs into a sympathetic smile and you hold your arms expectedly. Diluc doesn’t hesitate to transfer Klee into your embrace and while her cries don't cease entirely, they quiet to a whiny whimper as she tries to process who you are.

“What’s the matter?” You coo sweetly, rubbing Klee’s back with a gentle hand. “Is Diluc being mean and scary?”

“Hey!”

“I'm just kidding.” You laugh briefly and turn your attention back to the baby in your arms, looking for any physical signs of distress–not that you thought Diluc would have ignored them, but he was so frazzled that maybe he missed something. When you adjust Klee against your hip, her face scrunches up in discomfort and she pushes against your chest. You hum in recognition and move her onesie aside to see if there’s a blue stripe on her diaper. And sure enough, there is. “She just needs her diaper changed.”

Diluc pales visibly. “How do I do that?” He fumbles with the hem of his Pearl Jam t-shirt. “Are there instructions on the diaper or something?”

You laugh again and roll your eyes playfully, “I’ll show you.”

Diluc takes Klee from you so you can rummage through the black bag on the floor and pull out a package of wipes and a clean diaper. Diluc watches you in amazement and wonders how someone could be so calm and collected about something that made him want to crawl up the wall. You grab a nearby towel–the cleanest one, to be honest–and lay it on the ground before taking Klee back from Diluc and setting her down on top of it. Your quick fingers unsnap the metal buttons on her onesie and discard the dirty diaper, cleaning Klee up and sliding a fresh diaper underneath her wiggling body.

“See?” You beam, pressing down the sticky sides of the diaper. “Super easy!”

“For you,” Diluc mumbles. He sits on the edge of the couch and watches you interact with Klee like you’ve known her forever. You tap her belly occasionally, enticing a giggle, and the baby kicks her legs excitedly. She was attentive, reaching out towards you and babbling incoherent sentences loudly. She was loud, and a little annoying, but if Diluc was being honest, he was just glad that she wasn’t crying anymore. “When’d you become a baby whisperer?”

You clean up and drag Klee into your lap, letting her play with your sweatshirt strings. “My mom used to watch my cousins,” You explain, “And I guess I picked up on a thing or two.”

Diluc hums in response. Watching you play with Klee made him feel warm. Not a bad warm, but a good warm that filled his stomach with butterflies and made his chest feel weightless. Part of him was totally impressed by you and your ability to swoon over everyone and anyone–including little babies like Klee–unlike himself, who became a quivering mess during the unknown. You kept your cool no matter what. You owned every situation life threw at you so yeah, Diluc was totally impressed.

But even more than that, Diluc is glad that you gave him the time of day. You could have brushed him off, could have told him to figure it out, but you went out of your way to drive across town and hold a baby–a stranger’s baby, even–just because he asked.

“You know…” You voice grabs Diluc’s attention again and he gazes down at the floor where you’re sitting. “I was supposed to go out with Itto Arataki tonight. But I canceled our date to come here.”

Diluc holds back the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah?” He says instead.

He knows Itto Arataki back from high school–though they were never particularly friends. He was captain of the football team and had a 2.3 GPA and drove the most obnoxious and ugly muscle car in town. Diluc didn’t care for him then, doesn’t care for him now, and the more he thinks about your potential date with him, the more a feeling of irritation grows in the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah,” You say casually. You face Diluc and silently mimic packing and rolling a joint in the air. “He was going to give me a free eighth.”

Diluc stifles a laugh, “What a steal.” He doesn’t particularly care to hear about how you were going to smoke with Itto (because–you could smoke with him instead). “You could have gone if you wanted to.”

You shrug, “And miss out on hanging with my best friend, Klee?” You tickle her feet and blow on the top of her head before looking at Diluc again. “This is ten times more fun than hanging out with Itto Arataki, anyways.”

Diluc raises an eyebrow, “You’re kidding.”

You shake your head adamantly. “Nope. I’d much rather spend time with you than the idiot who only graduated because his daddy threatened to press legal action against every single teacher at that school.” For a moment, Diluc wonders if you even know what you’re saying, wonders if you realize that you just prioritized Diluc Ragnvindr–the same Diluc Ragnvindr who pierced his own ears at fourteen and sells his extra Adderall to college freshman–over Itto Arataki–the hero of your hometown. He’s about to ask if you have your head screwed on right but before he could open his mouth, Klee starts fussing again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

As the night progresses, you and Diluc come to four conclusions about one another:

Diluc is absolutely terrible with children.

You are absolutely amazing with children.

Diluc can’t stop imagining you with a different baby, maybe one with fiery red hair that kind of resembles you, and keeps shaking his head violently to disperse the invasive thought.

And you think Diluc is acting really weird because he won’t stop shaking his head. You just hope he doesn’t have lice or something. Ew.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

“She cries a lot.” Diluc comments when Klee curls her head into the crook of your neck, angry whines leaving her mouth. You frown slightly, swaying back and forth. “Do you think she’s hungry?”

“Maybe,” You shrug, moving over to the black bag and sorting through it with one hand. “Does she just take a bottle? Or does she eat solids? Do you even know how old she is?” Diluc blinks at you, not having an answer to any of your questions. “Right. Okay. One night off her routine won’t hurt.”

You carry the bag of formula–at least whatever was left in the bag–and an empty carafe to the kitchen and somehow manage to put together a bottle for Klee with one hand, all while Diluc stands back and watches. He wants to help, really, but feels like he’ll just be in the way more than anything. Klee cries more until you push the rubber tip into her mouth, but she only bothers to drink half of the bottle before she lets it slip from her mouth and pushes it away with her little hands.

Sighing, you pass Diluc the half-empty bottle. You bounce Klee in your arms for a few minutes, pat her on the back, and try to make her laugh, but to no avail–she won’t stop crying. “Maybe…she’ll calm down with some music?”

“How would I know?”

“I don’t know! Just put something on.”

Diluc grumbles something and heads into the living room, connecting his phone to the speaker. He scrolls through his Spotify playlists and clicks on a random one and hits shuffle. Heavy rock music fills the apartment and the opening chords to Enter Sandman start. You’re about to yell at Diluc for putting on such rowdy music for a baby but Klee only hiccups and turns towards the living room, her eyes wide and curious.

“No way.” You laugh breathlessly, carrying Klee to the living room. Diluc’s eyes glimmer with elation and he jumps up, grabbing Klee’s tiny hands in his big ones and singing the words to her, finally eliciting a smile from the baby.

Enter Sandman fades into Shout It Out Loud. “Well, the night’s begun and you want some fun.” Diluc taps Klee’s nose. “Did you think you’re gonna find it?” He taps her cheeks. “You gotta treat yourself like number one.” He taps her forehead. And next thing you know, Diluc has Klee in his arms and is bouncing around the living room, whirling her around in circles and dipping her up and down. “Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud!”

It was your turn to sit back and watch–as warmth spread throughout your chest.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

After an hour of dancing around the living room, Klee yawns.

It’s then that Diluc realizes his apartment isn’t really set-up for a baby. Fortunately, Klee isn’t walking yet but she is crawling, which means you and Diluc are constantly pulling chargers or wires out of her mouth. It also means that Diluc doesn’t have a crib, or anything remotely close to a crib. Maybe you could just hold her all night. Or maybe Diluc could put a blanket down in the kitchen sink and lay Klee in there or maybe…

“How many pillows do you have?”

Diluc cocks his head to the side. “What?”

“I said,” You repeat, drawing out the vowels, “How many pillows do you have? On second thought, just grab all of them and meet me in your room.”

Diluc cocks his head again, to the other side this time, and watches as you saunter down the hallway and kick open the door to his bedroom, carrying Klee inside. If it was any other night, Diluc might even throw a fit about you barging into his sacred space–but he was too exhausted to put up a fight tonight. Instead, he gathers all of the pillows from the living room, hall closet, and bedrooms.

By the time Diluc gets to you, you’re already busy doing whatever you had planned. You fluff the pillows on Diluc’s bed and lay them on either side of Klee, making sure they’re tight and secure. You take the other pillows from Diluc and finish up your makeshift barricade around the baby.

“There!” You beam proudly. “She won’t be able to roll over with all the pillows.”

Shit. You were really good at this. And here Diluc was, ready to put her in the sink.

Diluc stands stiffly in the middle of his bedroom as you run around like a headless chicken. You shut the blinds so the moonlight won’t seep through the window and turn off the floor lamp in the corner. The bedroom is veiled in darkness until you turn on a nightlight (which, in all fairness, Diluc totally forgot he owned) and a warm glow embraces the space.

Klee is fighting sleep. She wants to sleep, desperately, but her body doesn’t, and she whines uncomfortably. You sit on the edge of the bed and pat the empty spot next to you, urging Diluc to fill it. “What’s wrong?” Diluc asks–the question directed at Klee and you.

You smile softly, “She just needs some help falling asleep.”

“Um…” Diluc says, his awkwardness coming back. “Like a blanket or something?”

Without much thought, you say, “Why don’t you sing to her again?”

This catches Diluc off guard. Sure, he took choir in high school and never turned down a drunken karaoke session but singing underneath a loud metal song was very different from singing a lullaby in a silent bedroom. He didn’t want to traumatize the poor child.

“Come on,” You plead sweetly. “She loved your voice so much before…I’m sure it would lull her right to sleep.” Diluc feels his face grow warm and he looks away, not sure how to handle the compliment. He’s extremely thankful for the darkness of the bedroom that conceals his cherry-red cheeks from you.

Diluc composes himself enough to look back at you. He’s about to protest again but his voice jams in his throat when he realizes how close he is to you. Your faces are only inches apart and all Diluc had to do was lean forward and–

Klee cries out again, this time louder, and Diluc clears his throat. “Yeah, um, fine,” He manages, “But you can’t tell anyone. Especially my brother.” You make a ‘zipped and locked’ motion and Diluc twists his body so he’s facing Klee. She kicks her legs angrily, her tiny fists hands curl into fists and before Diluc really knows what’s doing, his voice leaves his mouth delicately. “I wanted to be with you alone and talk about the weather…but traditions I can trace against the child in your face.”

You can’t hide the smile that grows across your face. Diluc hates Tears for Fears, thought they were sellouts who made music for teenage girls who wanted to be different, yet here he was–singing their most popular song to an innocent little baby.

“Something happens and I’m head over heels. I never find out ‘till I'm head over heels.”

You sit back and listen. Klee is quiet now, an occasional coo leaves her lips, and you’re positive that she’s going to fall asleep any minute. So Diluc keeps singing, perfecting the song word-for-word until there’s no more lyrics to say and a sleeping baby. And secretly you’re a little bummed out–you could listen to Diluc sing forever.

But, alas, the bedroom is filled with a gentle silence and you reach across the bed to make sure the pillows are still secure before standing up and stretching your arms. And when the realization finally hits Diluc that he had just sung a baby to sleep, he wants to jump up and fistbump the air as hard as he could. He wasn’t as bad with babies as he thought and this was living proof.

“I did that!” Diluc exclaims in a hushed-whisper. He grins at you, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes and wrinkles his nose. “I got that baby to fucking sleep all by myself! God, I feel like I can do anything right now–”

Diluc doesn’t get to finish his sentence. In fact, he doesn’t even get to finish his thought. Because, in a matter of mere seconds, you’re dipping down towards Diluc on the bed and holding his face oh-so gently and crashing your lips together. And as cliche as it sounds, Diluc swears time stops.

You pull away first, your eyes big and wide. “Oh my god,” You whispered. “Luc, I just–”

“Oh.” Diluc says in a breath of air. He sits back on his hands and stares at you. He feels like his entire body is on fire.

“I’m sorry,” You continue. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s fine,” Diluc nods. “Just…”

He reaches a slender finger up and runs it across his bottom lip. You keep staring at him with utter shock written across your face and Diluc partially wants to remind you that you’re the one that kissed him. But his mouth refuses to move, refuses to speak, so he sits there in silence.

“Did you hate it?

Diluc hesitates before shaking his head, “No.”

“Good,” You say quietly. “Good.”

Diluc feels the bed dip again and you sit next to him. Your knees knock against his and when he doesn’t pull away, you take that as an invitation to lean in again. Diluc’s hand cups your jaw and everything feels fuzzy. You kiss like a champion, as expected, and Diluc kisses like each one is his last. Your mouths fit together like puzzle pieces and it’s enough to course electricity through your veins.

When he needs air, Diluc pulls back enough to press his forehead against yours. “What are you doing?” He asks solemnly.

“Kissing you,” You say–like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

Obviously it goes deeper than that. Because you kissed Ayato and you kissed Thoma and Childe and Itto Arataki and, well, not Diluc. Except you were. You were kissing Diluc in his dark bedroom while his neighbor’s baby slept on his bed surrounded by pillows. And it was fucking mental.

And confusing. And overwhelming. And Diluc doesn’t really know how to have a single coherent thought about it.

“Hey,” You urged, “What’s the matter?”

Diluc closes his eyes so he doesn't have to look at yours staring into his soul. “I don’t know,” He admits. “Everything and nothing.” And this was true. His mind feels like a jumbled mess of broken records and no matter how hard he tries to put them together, nothing would play. He eventually equates it to getting hooked on a book he thought he would hate, and how surprised he is that he’s really into the book, but it’s too late to put it down and really needs to see how it ends. “Kiss me again.”

You do.

“Again.”

You keep kissing Diluc experimentally, like you’re trying to work your way up towards something. You kiss him until your lips are swollen and your jaws hurt and then some.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” You finally tell him.

“Really?” Diluc asks and you nod.

In the darkness of his bedroom, Diluc smiles. Kissing you doesn't necessarily mean anything. But it doesn’t not mean anything, either. Though he hopes it evolves past the darkness. At least one day.

And, knowing you, Diluc has a good feeling that it would. And hopefully without a baby in the room.

a/n: no promises i won't delete this but for now--enjoy <3

#diluc x reader #genshin x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc #diluc genshin x reader #genshin self insert #genshin fanfic #diluc fanfic #klee #metalhead diluc #AND metalhead klee #my little heart #I totally reworked a steddie fic into this btw so if u ever stumbled across that #no u didnt #i forgot how to tag #genshin impact #diluc is kind of ooc in this.......sorry!#bye for now

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pixiemage · 1 year ago

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I haven't seen anyone else talking about this yet, so I'm sharing a little lore bit I found on a wall outside the Glamrock Salon during my last Ruin livestream. I was doing a Bonnie% run (basically the wet floor bot glitch forced me to restart the game from scratch and speedwalk my way through deactivating all the bots in one go askjdnbajkf) and when I got to the end of the Salon section of the game, I happened to look up with the Vanny mask on and found this on the wall by the bathrooms, right before you loop through the Salon again to get into the Foxy flume ride:

"Gone for a while. Money for food on counter. Emergency contacts on fridge."

Now, this is a level that is very Cassie-focused from the get-go. We already know Roxy is Cassie's favorite, and as the level progresses we are treated to peeks into Cassie's backstory prior to the events of the game. We see her getting her makeup done with Roxy, we see the sad aftermath of her failed birthday, we see Gregory comforting her afterward, and we then see the Missing posters with Gregory's face on them. So we can only assume this sticky note is also specifically related to Cassie's story.

We don't know much about Cassie's dad, but the game does go out of its way to mention him on multiple occasions. We know he is/was an employee at the Pizzaplex. We know he was a technician of some kind. He has a Fazwrench, he "never told Cassie what happened to Bonnie" (implying he would have known that insider information), and we also see mention of Cassie enjoying the Foxy flume ride despite the fact that it closed before it was ever open to the public.

(Granted, that last one is up for debate, because half of it was a flavor text at the bottom of the pause menu, which isn't always reliable as Cassie voice. I also can't really see someone allowing a child to be a ride tester when said ride was later closed before its open due to "safety concerns"...but then again, this is Fazbear Entertainment.)

We know Bonnie is her dad's favorite, and we know he collected the lunchboxes from the old show, meaning he's been a Fazbear fan for years.

(I also love the theory implying that Cassie's dad could be one of Michael Afton's old friends we see in the FNaF 4 crying child cutscenes, because he has the same hair, skin tone, and shirt color as Cassie and is wearing a Bonnie mask to boot...but that's not a theory for this post.)

But the one thing I always wondered was, if Cassie does have a dad back home who cares about her, then why wouldn't she ask for his help in saving Gregory? Or at the very least, why would he have just let her sneak off by herself in the middle of the day when she can't be more then 10-12 year old at best? And then I found this note...

"Gone for a while. Money for food on counter. Emergency contacts on fridge."

I think Dad isn't home right now. I think he's been gone "for a while" and Cassie has been alone. It's possible that this mystery, where he's gone, is attached to the Pizzaplex too, or at least Fazbear Ent., because this franchise never has disconnected characters be mentioned in passing so pointedly like this without it being secretly significant. Though there's not much of a foundation to build a theory on for that one just yet.

But the note and its implications ALSO echo the story that Candy Cadet tells us in the basement of the 'Plex. A single parent and their child live together in their home while a monster is locked away in a basement. The parent leaves the kid home, the monster lures said kid to the basement by mimicking a familiar voice, and then the kid unlocks the door and sets it free. It's not 1-for-1 because obviously it's not Cassie's dad that the monster at the Pizzaplex chose to mimic, but it's a definite parallel that can't be ignored.

I can't help but wonder where Steel Wool plans to go with this in the next installment, since the cliffhanger they left us on can only mean that the story isn't over yet. It's like they say...it always comes back.

[Reblog edit with additional theorizing about Cassie’s dad can be found HERE]

#Ruin DLC #FNaF Ruin #FNaF Ruin DLC #FNaF SB Ruin #Ruin DLC Spoilers #Ruin DLC Theory #FNaF Ruin Theory #FNaF Ruin Spoilers

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jinzkss · 3 months ago

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Sorry for sending here but tumblr doesn't let me send messages well I don't want anything specific I just want to cry my eyes out a bit ig but still gurl I love whatever you write so you don't have to worry if it'll be good or not cause I'll love it anyways <333. Also I have something on my mind for a jeongin story. What about "your parents, jeongin and you have dinner at your parents house but your dad doesn't like jeongin and you fight with your dad about it thinking jeongin wouldn't listen but he did and when you go home you talk about it but it ends up in a more romantic way" if you got what I mean I want it to start a bit angst and end up smut. It's complicated and it probably sounds horrible but I trust you I know you'll make it great. Thank youu. Love you unniee~ <333

I’m sorry this was rushed I’m on vacation rn

FORBIDDEN LOVE🚨

The air crackled with unspoken words, a storm brewing in the silence between us. My parents sat across the table, their faces set in lines of disapproval, their eyes fixed on I.N. He sat ramrod straight, hands clasped tightly in his lap, the picture of youthful innocence.

"We just want what's best for you, darling," my mother said, her voice laced with a sadness that mirrored my own. "And this... this isn't it."

"He's a boy band member," my father added, his tone a sharp contrast to my mother's gentle approach. "He's a fleeting fantasy, not a future."

Their words cut deep, each one a tiny knife twisting in my heart. They didn't understand. They didn't see the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about his music, the way his smile could chase away any cloud. They didn't see the quiet strength in his small frame, the kind heart that beat beneath his seemingly fragile exterior.

I choked back the tears that threatened to spill, knowing it would only fuel their fire. My I.N. was worth fighting for, worth defending against their prejudice.

The next few months were a blur of clandestine meetings and whispered promises. I snuck out to see him, hiding our love in the shadows. But the weight of their disapproval pressed down on me, suffocating my happiness. I knew I couldn't continue living a lie, but I also couldn't bear to give him up.

One day, I.N. took me to a secluded spot by the river. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. He took my hand, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

"I love you," he said, his voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of nature's symphony. "I always have, and I always will."

He looked at me, his eyes filled with an intensity that mirrored the fire in my own heart.

"I can't live without you," he said. "I won't."

And in that moment, I knew. I knew I had to fight. I had to show my parents that their fears were unfounded, that my love for I.N. was more than a fleeting fantasy, it was a promise for a future, a future that was ours to build together.

We didn't win over my parents overnight. It took time, patience, and countless conversations. But slowly, their hearts began to soften. They saw the love in our eyes, the way our hands sought each other's, the unspoken language only we could understand. They saw the strength of our bond, the unwavering commitment to a future built on trust and understanding.

I’m the end their approval doesn’t mean anything to me babe “he said” you’re the only thing that matters

#skz smut #stray kids #skz hyunjin #bangchan smut #skz fanfic #skz x reader #skz #skz angst #skz changbin #skz felix

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my-mt-heart · 1 year ago

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I obviously haven’t been very stoked about a lot of choices this first season—the opposite if I’m being honest—but when I first listened to the radio scene, it felt like a reprieve from those feelings. Norman’s performance is perfect. I could sense his urgency to get a hold of Carol, and of course once he does, his tone melts into something much softer, something we know he reserves only for her. I appreciate the long pauses he takes to study her voice. He hears something in her words that we don’t (🤨). He worries that maybe she’s not really okay.

Carol’s line “you never need to worry about me, Daryl” makes me think back to her “I love you too” in the series finale, or more specifically the weightlessness of it. Melissa said it was Carol’s way of taking care of Daryl. She wanted to make it easier for him to leave, and at first, I wondered if this time was supposed to represent more of the same. We understand why Daryl sounds excited because we have the privilege of reading his body language. Maybe when Carol hears it, she thinks he’s enjoying himself out there. Maybe she's reluctant to admit how much she misses him because she doesn't want to take him away from where he really belongs.

Here’s where I’m struggling though. Theoretically, Melissa would’ve had Norman’s footage to play off of while she recorded her side of the conversation. That's how it's typically done. We know both of them always play off each other brilliantly. We’ve seen it countless times. It’s why their chemistry works. It’s why we ship them. But in this scene, I'm not getting any of that. There’s no emotion behind the words, none of Melissa's nuances, and the more I listen to it, the more I realize it isn’t Melissa’s voice at all. It really pains me to say it, but it sounds like AI.

If that’s true, then you'll have to be patient with me while I take the time to fully process my feelings about it. After everything—booting Melissa from the show in the first place and then gaslighting her fans about it—AMC wants to use a copout loophole in Melissa's contract (what many actors have had in their contracts hence the need for a strike) to jeopardize Melissa's integrity, deny everybody what they've had to wait a long time for, Melissa, and cheapen what could've been the most impactful scene of the season? Are you fucking kidding me? That’s just lazy, manipulative, disrespectful, and infuriating.

I was really excited to analyze a new Caryl scene today. Believe it or not, I don't want to keep hating on the show. I want to enjoy my two favorite characters, but as others have said, I’m tired of bending over backwards to arrive at some—any—hopeful conclusion about Caryl’s future. It’s hard enough when the writing is as inconsistent as it has been, but now AI is involved? No one should have to exert energy on analyzing a performance that doesn't exist. It's a poor reflection of Melissa's talent and a huge disservice to Caryl's story. I'm heartbroken.

Good to see her trending though. She deserves all the love she's getting today.

On another note, because I don't want to make a separate post about it, I also watched the scene where Daryl gets mad at Laurent. **TRIGGER WARNING*** As someone who grew up in a very "loud" household and experienced PTSD from it, I wasn't put off by the anger. I understand Daryl wants to go home, and the kid ruined what seemed like his only chance. It's the name-calling and Daryl putting his hands on Laurent that specifically crossed the line for me. The show is clearly trying to force Daryl to draw comparisons between him and his dad, but this feels like something Daryl has already worked through on the flagship show. The moment he saw Carol flinch on the farm, he knew he wanted to be different. Carol and TF helped him be different. He is different. He doesn't need to prove that to himself or anyone else anymore. Enough of the character regressions.

#caryl #caryl spinoff #carol peletier #melissa mcbride #darylneedscarol #twd spoilers

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joseimukeaddict · 7 months ago

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Probably gonna fail a class so here are random headcanons for Izumi Tachibana from A3!

(It’s pretty long IMO and not proofread, sorry)

(I also am not caught up with the JP main story past Act 10 so sorry if anything contradicts sth that happens later)

CW: it gets kinda depressing near the end, my mood kinda seeped in 😓; mostly backstory stuff

——

- my girl is bi (more so bc I want a chance)

- her mom was always a stickler for a clean house so she’s super serious about making sure everyone does their chores, even more than Sakyo

- this one is more about Yukio and her mother but that man’s taste is women is definitely serious women in charge (they say you tend to fall for someone similar to your parents *winkwonk* SakyoIzu being the gender bent ver *winkwonk*

- Women on top tho, the men are simps (Yukio has to call at least once a week or else)

- On that note, her mom definitely holds grudges by the way she doesn’t even want Yukio to be mentioned in her household; Izumi holds mini-grudges too but they eventually fade with time bc she’s forgetful and just really nice

- not one to scream at a person when she’s angry, just raises her voice and speaks in a firm tone (she’s really good at choosing the right words though so it’s kinda worse to get her mad bc she’s usually so tolerant and her words hit deep)

- always speaks from the heart so this skill not transfer to acting 😭

- when her dad left so suddenly, she tried watching plays to cope but then started crying in the middle of the performance bc she thought of what her dad would think of a specific scene bc they used to do daddy-daughter play trips

- briefly tried to take up a different artistic hobby instead of theatre but when that failed, she just threw herself into her studies

- average student but she can get higher scores if she really tries

- scores into a pretty good college but a friend encourages her to go to a decent college that at least has a good arts program bc they’re worried Izumi is gonna throw away her life’s passion

- although she had that horrible experience where the theatre head told her she has no acting talent, at least being able to help create plays with backstage work rekindles her love of theatre and gives her an even greater appreciation for behind the scenes positions

- she works her way up the back stage ladder, trying out all sorts of different jobs to get a feel for each of them and eventually gets to an assistant director position

- and she’s absolutely in love with it (my girl is a career woman through and through)

- she gets why her father loved it so much although he was a great actor himself

- so thankful to the friend who encouraged her to go to that college, they’re still in contact (long distance bc she’s still at their home town) and they text and do late night calls often (they’re platonic soulmates dw)

- She was decently popular before daddy issues happened and lost a lot of the fair weather friends and only has a few close ones she’s made and kept over the years; she’s making more connections via theatre nowadays bc MANKAI keeps her so busy (it’s a crime that Liber doesn’t even give Izumi just one friend outside of her relation with MANKAI)

- Although MANKAI and her friend have never met, they refer to each other by nicknames at this point bc of how often Izumi catches them up on what the other is doing

- I know for a fact this girl is a praiser, she’s just so proud about them like a mother (especially when it comes to MANKAI)

- Takes almost no credit for them however, my girl has some insecurity issues being around such immensely talented people 😢

- She’s very talented in managerial aspects but she only found out after years of no talent in various arts

- She’s not one to tell people about her troubles (she knows she should) but people who know her well can tell when she needs a pick me up

- and one last happy one bc wow it got depressing and long: at least every few months, she schedules a weekend off and goes back to her hometown to spend time with her mother, after realizing that she should cherish more the family she has close by after moving into the MANKAI dorm and being reminded of family by the boys (both mother and daughter look forward to this event every time) (what do they do? Just relax and chat over Japanese snacks while her mother gives Izumi some tips on how to better run the dorm) (If you think Izumi is a praiser, her mother is worse, 1000% yaps about her wonderful daughter all the time to her friends behind Izumi’s back)

——

Sorry it was so long… too many thoughts for MANKAI’s one and only Director…

I have so many more but no one would want to read that much in one sitting. IDK Part 2 when I fail another major assignment that will cost me my grade?

#a3!#a3 headcanons #izumi tachibana #Izumi headcanons #I’m sorry for not formatting at all #I’m so tired #I just go on and on #I’ve never made a headcanons post before can you tell #why do I always post when I feel like crap

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thearoaceshark · 1 year ago

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One more day Leona was looking at herself in the mirror, more specifically looking at her throat.

When she came out as a girl, changing her appearance to a more feminine one was easy, she just needed a little eyeliner, sometimes a bow on her mascara, and that's it! Everyone saw her as a girl. She started practicing her voice to make it sound more feminine, and it was going well... Until they fucked up her throat.

Her injury in that fight made her voice sound much raspier and more masculine... The first few days she couldn't even try to do another voice, it was her eyeliner and the bow on her mask that made her that made her look feminine. When her throat improved a little, she tried to practice a feminine voice again, currently she could do it in everyday situations and it came very naturally, but it was not like before. Any carelessness and that horrible and raspy male voice would come out.

"Leah?" said a rabbit with white fur, peeking into the room. It was Usagi, her girlfriend. "What is wrong love?" She continued now approaching the turtle in front of the mirror.

"It's just..." she paused, looked at her reflection "You know, I don't know how to draw, since we were children I wasn't good at it" she began to relate, and the other nodded indicating that she would continue "At first we all drew the same things, little colorful flowers, things we saw in picture books or cartoons that dad brought in. But Raph and Donnie got better over time, Raph genuinely loved painting, and Donnie wanted to start drawing plans like the ones engineers used and that's why he learned. Mikey also wanted to improve, but he barely improved haha" she remembered smiling, even so she adored her little brother's doodles "But I did lose interest, I spent more time training, and also, looking at the cute drawings of Raph I was afraid to make mine, because I compared them... I got over it, but the thing is that I never learned to draw, probably if I tried now I would be worse than Mikey."

"On the other hand," she continued, "I was the best at singing. For some reason I was very good at that, and I liked that a lot, it was a talent I had apart from martial arts. But since the incident... I no longer I could..." her partner grabbed her hand and sat her on her bed. "I remember when Raph was unconscious I tried to sing him something, a lullaby that dad used to sing to us, and that's when I noticed how much my voice had changed. I sang to him what I remembered from the song, and I hummed the lyrics that I didn't remember."

"What song was it?" Usagi asked.

"I don't know, Sensei stopped singing it when we were like 7, he used to sing it to us when we couldn't sleep or when we had nightmares. In fact I think he didn't even know the lyrics, some verses were there, but others seemed like he invented them because they changed every time he sang it... Those are the ones I don't remember..."

"Hmm," her girlfriend reached out to kiss her cheek. "What if you sing it to me?"

"...I don't really like how I sing now" Leona finally got to the point she wanted with her story, and her girlfriend noticed it.

"I see... We'll fix it" in the next sentence her tone of voice changed a little "Also, you know that my voice isn't very natural all the time either, right?" she said in a funny grave tone.

They both laughed at that, yes, neither of them had access to voice therapy for trans women, they did what they could, and that was fine. Not being comfortable with her voice was also okay, they would solve it somehow, together.

"Aishitemasu"

"Watashi mo itoshite iru yo"

♡

○♡○

▪︎○♡○▪︎

○♡○

♡

"[I love you]"

"[I love you too]"

(Translated with Google, if anyone knows Japanese and sees any errors, please correct me).

The lullaby Splinter sang was one he had heard from Tang Shen, but he didn't completely know the lyrics and was trying to guess the parts he didn't remember.

I feel like after Splinter died the turtles started referring to him as dad as often as sensei.

I saw a Tiktok where it showed the main characters of 2012 drawing and everyone had drawn except Leo, so on the tiktok came to the conclusion that they didn't know how to draw. And that's where I got the idea.

I'm not trans but I tried to reflect the dysphoria Lee feels as best I could with the knowledge I have. I hope I did it right, but if any trans person doesn't feel comfortable, don't hesitate to tell me, you can tell me what makes you uncomfortable and why, and I will edit it.

#transfem leo #leona artemis hamato #miyamoto usagi #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #2012 leo #tmnt leonardo #leosagi lesbians #leosagi

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saltygilmores · 1 year ago

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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, 2/18 “Back In The Saddle” (more glorious filler) Part 1

The episode begins with an uninteresting Friday Night Dinner intro that has nothing worth writing about, except we see Richard again, and I feel like I haven't seen Richard in a really long time. (This is a Richard-centric episode, which is fine with me).

They fixed the Tomatos Sign? Say it ain't so!

Oh, the other chalkboard.

I recommend you all look up a woman named Valerie Campbell on TikTok or Instagram. She worked on the show and shares a lot of behind the scenes stories. I can’t seem to find this specific post again, but if you care to dig around yourself, she had a little story about the crew member that actually designed this sign.

I don't remember it being a particularly fascinating story, but if you want to hear the story of Sign Guy, go on and find Valerie.

Thinking about the time Rory took a slice of unbuttered unsyruped French toast on the run like it was a god damn pop tart. You weirdo.

LG: Look at the handwriting on that sign. It's so precise. So determined. It's focused Luke. RG: That's Jess' handwriting.

That tone of suspicion again. Sigh.

You know what, I won't pile on Lorelai too much for this comment, because it was lighthearted and not dripping with passive aggressive sauce for once. You win this round, Gilmore.

Couldn’t have killed you to throw in a “that’s so thoughtful/cute/sweet” or something though.

I love how blasé they are about their notions that either Luke or Jess could have such gorgeous handwriting. Neither of them are marveling even one bit over that skilled graphic design. Sad lack of shock, wonder, and awe.

Lorelai is very much NOT Team Jess and is actively trying to destroy this adorable friendship. Being a Lorelai and Literati supporter at the same time seems like a paradox of sorts? But hey, according to Tumblr, I'm just a big ol woman hater for saying Lorelai is evil. Continue, Lorelai. Lay some old fashioned Dean Lust on us. It's what the people want.

Rory looks thrilled to see ButtZilla.

Drop yourself off a bridge.

Lorelai: Please please please eat with us Dean!

So much said with so little in her tone of voice alone

From left to right: Wetting her pants in excitement to have Dean for breakfast/ thinking about covering his naked body in maple syrup; a man wondering if this will be one of the rarest of days when the Gilmores pay for their food; Hello Darkness My Old Friend; and Buttzilla.

I've got something you can eat, Dum Dum.

JOKES ON YOU BUTTZILLA! JESS WROTE THE SIGN! YOU'RE GONNA EAT AN OMELET THAT YOU ORDERED OFF A SIGN THAT JESS WROTE!

Mind your own business, AssButt. Your necklace is stupid and so are you. Your mother doesn't love you.

"Next time I get you all alone I'm going to give you SUCH a spanking, young man."

Poor put-upon Brad. One day, Brad will rule the world, and the peasants will be sorry. Our usual Chilton crew that consists of Rory, Paris, Madelyn, Louise, Brad, and one rando (some 30 Year Old Archie looking dude) are gearing up for a Business Fair. They have to invent a product appealing to high schoolers. Rory is the CEO, and they have an imaginary 1 million dollars to imaginary market/produce/and distribute it. They also have to find a responsible adult to be their "business advisor". Richard will eventually join them and muck things up. Everyone else's negligent dads are too busy working and Rory's deadbeat dad Crusty is off somewhere trying to impregnate some chick named Sherry and wouldn't know how to Business if his life depended on it, so Richard it is. But this is the 2000s, so surely someone's mother could also have business experience?

Paris and Madelyn suggest Rory's mom, seeing as she "Runs a hotel", but the girls wouldn't know that Rory's mom regularly leaves her shift in the middle of the day to do things like look at coffins. Not a good role model. Joyous filler nonsense.

Rory: LOL yeah I guess. Let’s have someone look at Lorelai’s “books”. The Independence Inn and Stars Hollow are both an accountant's wet dream.

I neglected to include Brad in my poll of Gilmore Girls characters whose quietly bubbling anger will one day no longer stay contained until they snap and murder somebody.

She's definitely not, but Paris threatens her so Rory promises to ask her anyway.

The people of Stars Hollow are incredibly angry and violent. Don't let their sweet faces fool you. Try to take away their coffee or twinkle lights, or fuck up their wedding invitations, and you'll be sorry.

#gilmore girls #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #denise rewatches gilmore girls #jess mariano #literati #gilmore girls season 2 #filler episode #I am an equal opportunity hater #when I did this on Twitter this 15 year old girl was always in my mentions trying to tell me that criticizing Rory meant I hate women #its a tale as old as time honestly #jokes on her I like Rory now #its satire #back in the saddle

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asbestos-11 · 4 months ago

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Hi I'm back !!!!!!!!! I'm off anon for this one because this is the only way I can send pictures!!!! I don't mind either way, but would you prefer I stay on anon in the future?

Eleni:

Has the most elegant/princess vibe of the two of them

Takes up cooking/baking because she wants to honor both of her dad's culture in one of the only ways she knows how (she doesn't tell them this, but they figure it out eventually because its obvious)

Smart enough to skip grades, but both her and Ratio denied the offer.

Decides to go for a culinary career because she's both good at it and enjoys it.

When Aventurine and her go on shopping trips as bonding, they always take way too long picking the perfect outfits (One time Raya joined them out of curiosity when she was younger and got so bored she wondered off on her own. Aventurine almost fainted from the panic he felt at seemingly losing one of his daughters. They found her in an arcade nearby.)

She is lactose intolerant. That doesn't stop her, but it should.

Adopted Ratio's blunt nature. She has the same playful tone in her voice regardless, so no one really knows if she's being serious. (Most of the time she is.)

She has a complex morning routine and takes way too long in the bathroom getting ready.

She's more careful and cautious than her sister, but she isn't afraid of doing reckless actions. She just doesn't want to.

Follows the Path of Remembrance

Raya:

Doesn't really care for fashion, just grabs whatever is in her closet

13-in-1 shampoo.

The first time she met Stelle, she fainted from excitement. She gets embarrassed when someone brings up that story.

Raya was also smart enough to skip grades, and she also denied the offer. Later on, she eventually does the bare minimum in school, so teachers and students stop asking her if she'll change her mind.

Hears of the Astral Express and decides she wants to join their adventures. Her family tells her to at least finish her studies first.

She likes to take spontaneous trips and only leaves behind a note for her dads to read in the morning. Sometimes, she forgets to write a note. (The first time it happened, Aventurine and Ratio started panic calling people to help find her. She enters the house a few minutes later. They have a long talk about that kind of behavior. She was 15 at the time.)

She's often reckless and gets injured when she's traveling. She often shows off her injuries to prove she's capable but refuses to mention what caused the scar on her face. When asked, she quickly changes the topic.

When she does eventually occasionally join the Astral Express, she finds a passion for teaching. (She's also banned from joining Stelle on the same adventure. The first and last time it happened, they were banned from visiting that specific planet again.)

Doesn't really follow a specific path, but the closest would be Elation.

Ah, I hope you feel better soon!!!! Also, I hope this is satisfactory because I speedran drawing my two girls in exchange...

OH YEAAAHHHH THEY ARE SO PRETTY ANON!!!! I'M ABOUT TO SMOOCH THEM BOTH :D

i'm actually so invested in them already from what you wrote and pls keep on sharing them. oh my god i can't, i simply need to know more!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

i must know what some of raya's solo trips consist of and also why she's banned from going on adventures with stelle (did they cause a riot or something?)

a lactose intolerant baker, godspeed to everyone around her. love that she's here honoring her fathers through cooking, bcs food is such a staple of culture. losing it and the practices is ass. ughhhh i love them a lot <3333

also dw you can stay on anon if u prefer to, it's all up to you^^

PS I LOVE YOUR ART SM!!! IT LOOKS REALLY CUTE <3333 ESP LOVE THE SOFT SHADING IN RAYA'S HAIR IT MAKES IT POP :D

#asks tag

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darkravens-blogs · 9 months ago

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The deers big meal

I don’t even know what this title is but it just popped in to my mind

Alastor x black!reader

Summary:where you and your family are having family dinner and Alastor can’t keep his hands off the food or you

Word count:I have no clue

Notes: your Alastor wife and this does have black foods in it specifically the foods I cook wit my family also this is not the Alastor smut I’ve been working on I’m still working on dat oh and since I’m black imma just talk how I normally do only when da reader or her partners talk tho but if yall can understand it I can change it just let me know

•Y/N POV•

“Aight yall I just got off dat phone wit mah ma and her and my pa or going to be coming to both meet yall and to cook yall thanksgiving dinner wit dat help of me” i say while i walk into the lobby”really im my god I can’t wait to meet them when are they coming” Charlie asked in excitement. “Dey coming ta day since we gotta start coming da day befo thanksgiving” “WHAT!” Everyone yelled(besides husk and Alastor they already knew that because they already met your parents and had dinner with them before) “ye is dat a problem or somethin”i say while tilting your head. “ no no no not at all I just wish you told us sooner when will they be here?” Charlie ask nervously “oh Dey be her in bout three or fo hours so imma go out and buy everythang I need Alastor I need ya to find me a big pot and I medium pot and well das it cuz imma go buy Alda seasonings” I say as al gave me a bright smile and nod while going to get me what I need.

•ALASTOR POV•

I wave bye the my wife and walk into the kitchen and grab every thing she needed”hey Alastor?” I turn around and see Charlie”yes dear” “um um so what is y/n’s family nice like her” .I laugh “yes dear they are but just like her if you get in there bad side they can be the most scary people you will ever meet trust me do not get in there bad side trust me matter fact I almost didn’t marry her because I made her mom and dad mad”. I say and laugh as I remember that day like it was yesterday back then I was so sad they I might not marry her and I was scared of her parents I still am just a bit.”but don’t worry cuz I did marry her after all after she conceived her parents to give me a second chance but once you get to know them there so lovely and sweet you’ll love them”.I say and walk out of the kitchen and go to sit in the lobby”wait you almost don’t marry her why I wanna know please tell us” Charlie said “yea smiles tell us and also tell us how you score a hottest ass baddie like y/n” angle said as Charlie sat next to him” oh um that’s a story for another day” I say nervously.

•TIMESKIP TO WHEN YO PARENTS GET DER•

•NO ONES POV•

“Ok ok guy der here guys remember say yes mama no mama yes sir no sir only al and husk and me can call them well not dat and please angle tone down the horniness of you can cuz if you flirt with my dad my mom will swing on you no questions asked.” you say to everyone one as Alastor coke and stands next to you and puts his arm around your waist and gives you a kiss on the cheek and smiles at you to which you return. as vaggie opens the door”hi ma hi pa” you say and run to hug your parents and hug them”hi dear” “hey sweetie” they say and hug you back.”aye Alastor how ya been son” your dad says as he walks up and hugs alastor” “I’m doing good sir how have yall been doing” Alastor says as he hugs your dad back.” That’s nice and you better be treating my daughter right or I will kill you and it will be slow and agonizing I might not even kill you right away but cha wish you was” your dad says and he hugs Alastor tighter and his voice gets deeper and his aura is beyond scary. Alastor gulps hard”y-yes sir I have” “good and how many times have I told you call me y/d/n dang boi loosen up every once and a good while son” your dad say say he stops hugging Alastor” ok now introduced us to all your nice friends”

•TIMESKIP TO AFTER THE INTRODUCTIONS(of course angle said some horny shit to your dad you can choose what he said)

“ excuse me boi the fick you say to my husband son I don’t care who you is I will knock yo ass the fuck out nigga” your mom says and and starts to walk to him with her fist up.” “ I fuckjng told yo ass angle” you mouth to him before you go to your mom.” Mom chill this is a good place and-“ before you can finish your mom cuts you off” I don’t give a fuck this could be a funeral and I’d still fuck him up” she says “baby hunny it’s fine I only love you” your dad jumps in and says “but-“ “ma he only loves you angel just can’t help himself it’s fine lest just start to cook dinner aye” you say “ o-ok fine but he better not do dat shit again I will kill his palm tree yoga girl looking ass” your mom says and you and everyone start to laugh.”ok mom let’s go dad you stay here and have fun talkin and checking up wit al and husker” you say and walk to the kitchen “Wait no no I lied you gotta do da chitins”.

Your mom is washing the greens while you’re cutting and washing the hogmals and your dad is washing the chitlins and everybody else is dying to the stench of the chitlins.” So how are you and al doing he treating you right” your mom says while still washing the greens “ yes mom and actually me and al have been um trying fo a kid and um I have a feeling pretty soon you’ll be a grandma” you say happily but then get nervous but then happily again.” WHAT! Really oh my satan what are you pregnant right now” “ no no no no NO bit we have been trying it was Al’s idea he saw how I was with the little cannibal children in cannibal town and some other children and wanted some of his own” you say and smile happily and your mom looks at yo with so much love and happiness for you. “ ok I’m done wit da hogmals I just gotta season dem” you say with a large smile on your face “ actually I’ll season them and all but can you start cookin dem I wanna suprise al with his moms jambalaya” you say excited and happy with a bright smile in your face. “ sure yea I can do dat you really love him don’t you sweetie” “ mo den anythang not even words or actions can prove much I love him”

Authors note:Part 2 will be out shortly I apologize for any miss spelled words of y’all don’t like or can’t understand how da reader and her ma and pa are talkin I’m sorry I can fix dat(hah see wat I did it’s form holes I can fix dat anyways) part two might be smut idk I might make dis into a three parter other den dat hope yall like it request are open if yall wanna request you can request anything within reason love yall enjoy da fic

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anthropwashere · 6 months ago

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Hey cousin, you didn't have any flavor of 'do not reblog' on this, so here I am months later itching to discuss entirely different vibes than what I can only assume you were feeling/dealing with when you posted this. You got me thinking, is the thing, so here I am. Sorry.

Read more because this will absolutely turn into a ramble (I was right)

Dad left when I was 7 years old. Specifically they left the day I was going to start first grade, and they stole the one car my parents had to do so. Personally my memory is vague on all things, but I know the many adults in my life at that time agree that there were 2-3 weeks of absenteeism before Dad turned up again. I know a much older cousin took over leading my soccer team during this time (thanks, Cousin Mike). I never saw dear old Dad at this point, but only heard much later afterward that my aunt (op cousin's late mom) and my uncle (a non-bio guy married to another bio-late aunt) convinced my mom to kick Dad out of our lives permanently. Considering the first 6-ish years of my life, per various vague anecdotes I was too young to have any properly solid memories of, nixing Dad was a VAST improvement on our livelihood.

I spent the next 7 years solely hearing Mom's Side of Things. Now, if there's anybody happening to read this far, you're probably also familiar with my #toxic relationships tag, and by extension my many, many Mommy Issues. The Short Version is: I don't trust Mom on much at all. But considering how little Dad has shared of their life/family since leaving, I kind of have to combination believe Mom's stories/assume the worst? Dad had, per what I understand, a deeply fucked up life. Lots of drugs and alcohol and various other complications that Child Me simply would not have have any context for, nevermind the Previous Relationship that resulted in multiple? half-siblings I will never meet? Mom shared little to none of it with me. That was, I think, one of her few good decisions, tbh.

Dad came back down to SoCal for a visit the one and only time after they left for Christmas... another memory snag. I swear I was 14 the last time I saw them, so it would have been December '15, but that date simply doesn't feel right? I don't know. What I do know is that they were drugged out of their mind on anti-psychotics, and even still every single conversation I had with them was like getting slapped in the face with a brick because oh? My God? Dad was ME. Dad was 100% ME. The tone of voice, style of jokes, taste in music and art, how we stood, how we laughed, how we shrugged, how we avoided eye contact, the curly brown hair, the shitty crooked teeth, EVERYTHING. It was insane. It was terrifying. It was liberating. Everything I struggled/resisted about with Mom was explained/confirmed by Dad in that, what, 2 week visit? It was so much. It wasn't nearly enough. Like, body type to a T is all Mom, but the details of me are all 100% a person I barely know anything about.

I have such strong scene-memories of listening to Tori Amos' Boys For Pele album with Dad in the shitty one-bedroom apartment I grew up in, and just. RESONATING. Oh. This is me. This is us. This is US. We are quiet and HURTING. We are wry and SARCASTIC. We are shy and FLINCHING. We love poetry and geology. My clearest memory of Dad is a photograph taken of us when I was MAYBE 2 years old? I know it was taken in a zoo by Mom. What animals we were looking at I have no idea, but the photo was of the back of our heads. Dark brown hair, short, absurdly curly. Mine was a few shades lighter then, but these days it's as dark as his was.

(My second clearest memory of Dad is shortly before he abandoned us, when I woke him up to tell him I was getting picked up by one of my aunts so my parents would know where I was, and him stumbling out of bed to bellow hate and resentment at me, a child.)

I haven't seen Dad since I was 14. I'm 33 now. I'm their only emergency POC because everyone living anywhere near them has abandoned them. I get a few phone calls a year from various VA centers that Dad tried to kill themselves again. This was more common in earlier years. This has been a thing since Dad left in, Idk, probably 1998? Suicidal tendencies don't hit me nearly as hard as they might... more normal folk, I suppose? Dad's done many attempts all my life, like to the point it was almost a joke ("Oh, Dad tried to kill himself again! Haha!") but Mom liked to threaten me with killing herself just to keep me in line as a Good Daughter.

(Like I said, the Mommy Issues are Real.)

These days it's more likely Dad quit their medications and was found wandering and confused. The last time they were apparently completely naked? Which is new as far as I know. I'm not in a position, mentally, physically or geographically, to take care of someone in their situation. I keep stressing that to the Seattle VA medical care when they call me, and also stress that Dad needs help. But Dad keeps rejecting the help, and the VA keeps accepting that they're of sound enough mind (while medicated) to make that decision.

I don't know. Every time I get a phone call from Washington state I assume it's going to be a "Your father is dead, now arrange their funeral," kind of phone call. So far I've been lucky. I really need to start planning more aggressively for both of my parents' funerals, since they're both pushing 70. I kind of hate being a. well. TECHNICALLY an only child. Because it's all on me. But I could also dig through the haphazard unfinished adoption papers Mom kept for Dad's previous kid(s??) that I have stashed in a closet. I could be like, "Hey, I'm the half-sister you probably don't know about. Dad was an absolute disaster I promise you want nothing to do with. Do you want to come to the funeral?"

God. I wish I had less complicated parents.

do you ever hear yourself laugh and hear them in the echo? do their eyes watch you from your bathroom mirror? is their scent still there, mixed in with your own? if you reach down deep enough, would you find their heart nestled in along your own, side by side in shattered perpetuity?

#toxic relationships #hi i'm oversharing again in an attempt to self-soothe/therapy #dad is they/them'd because they're trans but at this point i have no idea what pronouns they prefer to go by

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breezymichelle99 · 3 years ago

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Mr. Barber’s Assistant | Andy Barber

Summary: After Jacob’s Trial everything had changed for Andy Barber. He lost his wife, he almost lost his job and his son. Nothing seemed right in his life. Nothing but YOU.

Word Count: 16,090 (Sorry kids, it’s a long one.)

Warnings: Some Spoilers from Defending Jacob. Mentions of a car accident. Interoffice Romance. Brief mentions of a murder. unprotected sex, Multiple Point of Views. Boss|Assistant dynamic. Cursing. Mentions of cheating. Divorce. Mentions of being in the hospital. Laurie being a bitch. Neal being an asshole. Angry|Andy. pet names. Over protective Andy. Marking!Kink. Having a crush on your boss. Idiots in love with each other. keeping secrets. Mentions of Drinking. Self Doubt. Dirty Talk. Very Brief Hand job (if you squint.). fingering. Oral (f). edging (if you squint.). Consensual Sex. Regret. Second thoughts. Jealous Neal. Slightly possessive Andy. Brief Mention of Andy Getting Himself Off. Teasing. Mentions of Spanking. Mentions of mental health. Bipolar disorder. borderline personality disorder. Over protective Dad!Andy. Guilt about feeling happy. Toxic misogynistic male behavior. Some Ex-Wife Drama. Getting punched in the face.(PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING)

A|N: Hello! Just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who reads this and or any of my stories. I hope you enjoy. please feel free to let me know your thoughts. Also I apologize for the length of this one I kind of got carried away. :) enjoy friends. (Pics for the moodboard came from pinterest. I do not own.)

“Assistant District Attorney; Andy Barber?” a voice from behind you calls. You turn around to see a tall gentleman standing there behind you. There was silence for a minute before you spoke. “Mr. Logiudice, Mr. Barber is in a meeting with the DA.” you say, a firm tone in your voice. He smirked. Like you had just said something funny. Which you had not. “Doll, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Neal.” he stepped towards you.. The door to Andy’s Office swings open. Thank god. You exhale. “Leave her alone Neal, how many times do I have to TELL you…” Andy turns and gives you a flirty wink and nod. You couldn’t help but blush. You sit back behind your desk. Neal sighs, rolling his eyes. “Besides Neal, you’re not her type anyways.” he shoots a blue eyed gaze your way and you practically melt into your chair, biting your lip.

You weren’t going to lie. You had a crush on the ADA… who didn’t? He was incredibly gorgeous, smart, powerful and sweet as hell, but don’t fuck with him. He didn’t take shit from anyone and everyone knew it. You’d been ADA Barber’s assistant for five years and well it had been a rough last couple of years for him, especially with his son's trial, and the aftermath of it, his father, through getting divorced from his wife, the accident, the long nights spent at the hospital with Jacob in a coma. It had been a pretty fucked up time for Andy to put it midly. But through everything you always stuck by him, no matter what he needed you were there for him; you’d developed a pretty close friendship. and he never forgot what you’d done for him.

Lately something had changed in Andy. You found him being more affectionate towards you. Like today putting Neal in his place. Plus the “You're not her type.” comment that rang through your ears for the rest of the day and the way he had looked at you after; had sent your heart into overdrive and not to mention… a deep voice brings you back to reality. “Why don’t you head home, you’ve been working extra hard for me lately and you deserve a break.” you realize it was Andy that was talking to you. You refocus. “Mr. Barber, I’m sorry.” you whisper. He chuckles. “You can call me Andy, you know. Mr. Barber makes me feel like I'm your dad.” he smirks. And he definitely didn’t want to be your dad. The thoughts of you in more than one specific position danced in his head. He licked his lips. Well well well Mr. Baber, if you only knew you thought to yourself. The room was silent as secret fantasies of each other danced in the space between you both. Finally you smile. “Alright Andy it is.” his name lingers on your lips for a few seconds. “Did I also hear something about going home?” you say stepping out from behind your desk. Andy looked at you as you stepped towards him.

You had been his closest ally through everything. You’d had his back even when his own wife did not.. He thought it was just because you had a little crush on him and wanted to get a few extra points with the boss; which wasn’t entirely wrong but he quickly learned it was so much more than that, you were so much more than that. After all the things he asked you to do the last couple of years, all the secrets he asked you to keep. You never let him down and he admired that and somehow over the last few weeks he realized you were a lot more than just an assistant to him; maybe even more than just a friend.

“I said you should go home, relax, and get some rest. You’ve been working really hard and deserve a break.” he stepped closer to you. You swallow hard. Your eyes lock with his and the two of you just stare at each other for a minute, before his stare becomes too intense and you look away. “I just want to finish up this one thing and then I promise I’ll head home, you should think about doing the same ya know.” you say with a worried look towards him.. He smirks as he heads back to his office finally leaving the intense space between you. He looks back at you. “You better.” he grins as he catches your worried eyes.. it takes everything within you to keep from saying or what? You’ll spank me? And just like that a whole new set of fantasies emerged in your head and you knew you needed to get out of this office before you did something stupid. “I'm going soon, don’t worry about me.” he adds as you hear the office door close.. “Oh but I always will.” you whisper as you return to what you were doing.

You quickly finished up what you were working on. You collected your bag and turned off your desk light. You slowly open the door to Andy’s office to ask him if he needed anything else before you left. He’s quietly working, the lamp on the desk the only light in the room, there’s a glass of whiskey in his hand; in the glass “You” had given him for Christmas. You smirk. “You just going to stand there or are you going to come in?” His voice was deep and tired and sounded like something was wrong. He looked more stressed than usual. You step into his office, closing the door behind you. “Sorry…I was just heading out but if you need me..” you pause as you set your bag down in the chair in front of his desk and walk around to him. Suddenly deciding to throw all your morals out the window and say “Fuck it”. You're behind him now and your hands drop to his shoulders gently massaging his tense muscles with your delicate fingers. He relaxes. A sigh leaving his lips. “To stay.” you whisper finishing your sentence.

You couldn’t believe what you were doing. You hear him clear his throat. His hand drops from his glass and trails up your arm pulling you down towards him so he can whisper in your ear. “Stay…. Please.” he says and you whine. Your breath, catching in your throat. Before you knew it he was standing looking down at you. In this light you looked more beautiful than ever. Your breath warm on his neck had sent a shiver down his spine and right to his groin. His hands caressed your cheek, you melt into him. “Andy!!” you whine. Closing your eyes, memorizing the way his touch felt on your skin. “What baby girl?” he whispers. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, his body is so close to yours now and you find your hands back on him. You open your eyes and meet his gorgeous blue ones. “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” he whispers again and somehow you’ve lost your words.

Something about him had changed and feelings you had tried so desperately to hide were now about to come to fruition. “What about your family? What about Jac…” before you finish your sentence his lips are on yours and without even thinking you find yourself kissing him back, your hands running through his hair. Within seconds you’re on his desk as he spins you around, his big body positioned between your legs. One of his hands was on your thigh, the other on your neck pulling your body close to his. A moan leaves your lips and you feel him smirk against your skin as he kisses your neck. Part of you was trying to be rational; there was no way he was into you…it had been a while.. He was stressed and needed something to lose himself in; someone.. But the irrational part of you was dying to have his hands on you, desperate to let him lose himself in you, no matter what this meant. You gave into the irrational part of yourself letting him in, giving into your deepest desires.

“You’ve been so good to me.” he says words breathy. “You’ve always had my back, and believed in me no matter what you were hearing elsewhere. You’ve been my rock, kept my secrets, you’ve always been so much more to me than just my assistant, so much more than just a friend to me. You’ve been such a good girl for me, why don’t you let me reward you for taking such good care of me.” his voice was almost a growl and his words more like a demand than a praise but there was something about him and the way he wanted you right now, you knew you were in deep deep trouble. The strap of your tank top had fallen down your shoulder and he was kissing the bare skin. You whine. He looks at you and you catch his face in your hands. There is silence that fills the room as you stare at each other. Your thumb stroking his cheek. “I’d do anything for you Andy Barber.” you whisper, capturing his lips with yours. He grins. Those words were like a green light to him.

The sound of your voice saying “I’d do anything for you.” echoed in his ears. His hands slide up your skirt, fingers wrapped around the tight elastic as he slowly pulled your thong off. The sound of the moan that left your lips as his long fingers danced ever so closely to your core, made him smirk as you pulled him to you by his belt buckle. “Come here…Sir.” you smirk as you felt his erection grow harder as you looked up at him perched pantiless on his desk, skirt shoved up your thigh, tank top half off. He moaned at the sight of you, so desheveled, so perfectly imperfect but hot as fucking hell to him. His thoughts were interrupted when he felt you slide your hand into his pants and your fingers wrap around him, he bit his lip. A loud groan leaves his mouth. “Didn’t think you were the only one who gets to have all the fun, now did you ADA Barber.” you growl as you lick your lips.

“Mmm Babyyyy.” he whines. Not letting him get off that easily, you leave him hanging with a wink. “Ohhhhh No no you naughty little girl.” he growls. You chuckle. “But sir I was such a good little girl two minutes ago..” you challenge him and he’s loving it. You pull him towards you once more. “But I swear good girls can be very bad girls too.” you whisper sliding his hand back up your thigh. “But only for you.” you purr as you feel his warm hand near your core. A long finger strokes your clit slowly and you toss your head back. “MMMMM Andy.” you moan his name loudly and he knows he’s back in control. “Better be only for me..” he growls in your ear as you melt into him and the way he’s touching you... His perfect long fingers working magic inside of you, making your head spin.

“Are you going to cum for me like a good girl, or are you going to make me beg for it?” his fingers still.. You bite your lip thinking about his words. ”I’ll be good, I swear.” you wink and he captures your lips with his, before he continues “Fuckkkkkkk Andyyyyyyy.” you moan as you cum for him, he covers your mouth gently both forgetting you were still in the office. He watches your faces, memorizing your sounds, the perfect way you surrendered your body to him. His fingers slowly retreat from inside of you and dance across his perfect lips. “You taste so good, pretty girl, like a dream.” he praises and you swear you could cum again just from the sound of his voice alone. You can tell he’s ready for more and you almost come to your senses but you don’t. You run your fingers down his chest pulling him to you by his tie. He chuckles. “I want you Andy.” you whisper. Your eyes never leave his. “I want to feel you inside me, I know your stressed baby let me help. Lose yourself in me Andy.” You beg him.

That was everything he needed to hear. “I want nothing more, I've wanted this… wanted you for so long now.” he whispers, kissing you slowly, passionately, before he yanks you towards him. You swore you’d have his hand print bruised on your thigh tomorrow but you would wear it proudly. He pulled himself from the tight cotton of his dress pants. You whine at the sight of him, so deliciously everything you’ve imagined and more. You unintentionally lick your lips. He pulls a condom from his wallet and rolls it on quickly. He pauses to check on you once more before you both do something you regret. “Are you sure about this?” he asks so lovingly as his hand rests on your cheek. You move your hand up to cover his. “I've never been more sure about anything.” you whisper. He kisses you, capturing your moans as he slides into you slowly, gently. You grip his shoulders, his large palm supporting you both on the desk, your legs wrapped around him, pushing him deeper, adjusting your hips to get him just right.

You can’t help but toss your head back, he’s nuzzled into your neck as he slams into you. Both breathing erratically. The small space of his office filled with your echoing moans and sighs of pleasure. “Fuck you fit me just right.” he groans in your ear. “Everything that I've needed.” he adds. And in that moment you knew everything was about to Change.

“Andyyyyy I’m almost..” your words trail off as you cum before you can finish your sentence. “You were saying, beautiful.” he moans as he watches you come undone beneath him, sending him into his own orgasm. “Fuckkkk.” he groans, stilling inside of you. He moves a piece of hair from your face and kisses you. He can’t believe that just happened. His thumb lingers on your cheek. As he looks at you savoring the moment. “What do you think…Same time tomorrow?” he smirks as he finally moves from inside of you, disposing of the condom in the bin beside his desk. You couldn’t help but laugh. “If that’s what you want..” you whisper, kissing him. He pulls his lips away from yours slowly. He bites your lip making you moan into his mouth. He can’t help but grin. “I definitely want!!” he says, squeezing your ass as he kisses you again. He can’t help himself.

“Well then I’ll be here.” you say as you begin to put your life back together, pulling your skirt down and putting your blouse back on. “Ohhhh no, those are staying with me.” Andy smirks, taking the black lace thong from your hand and placing it into his pocket. You roll your eyes at him but hand it over. “Thank you.” he says, leaning down to kiss you. “See you tomorrow.” he says, pulling his lips away slowly, savoring the feeling of your lips on his. “See you tomorrow….” you pause… “Sir.” you smirk. And he groans. “Really?” he warns. And you can’t help but laugh. You turn for the door. “Hey.” he says, catching you once more before you leave. “Yeah.” you say turning to him. “Thank you.” he whispers. “For everything.” he says. You can’t help the smile that creeps across your lips. “You’re welcome.” you say. “I'm here, if you need anything. You just have to let me know.” you say as you give him a loving look and he knew right there right in that moment, in the words that left those perfect lips that He; Andy Barber was Madly in love with you; his beautiful, smart, loyal: assistant. And he’d do just about anything to keep you safe; to keep you his perfect dirty little secret.

He knew sitting behind this desk from now on was going to be very interesting. As all he could see was you on top of it, him buried deep inside of you, calling his name, and begging him for more. He smirked as he turned the desk lamp off and headed to the hospital to check on his son.

As you got home everything hit you. Reality was finally setting in. What the hell did you just do? One thing was for sure there was a conversation to be had in the near future between you and ADA Barber; a serious one…one that did not end with you surrendering your panties to him or the images that now tainted your mind of him with his head between your thighs putting that skilled mouth to work instead of those skilled fingers.

Fuck. you say aloud to the heavy space that lingered in your car. Everything is going to be different now. There was no way you would be able to see Andy in any other light then the one where he fucked you like you were his dirty little secret. Locked away in a shared space, somewhere meant only for the two of you. So many questions that needed to be answered. Your head was spinning but you couldn’t stop the smile that crossed your lips as you thought of him.

You headed inside where you slipped out of your clothes and into a hot shower where your thoughts ran wild as you replayed the night over and over in your head, his fingers on your skin, the way he felt when he was inside of you, gentle and rough all at the same time. A sigh left your lips. Tomorrow would be a very interesting day to say the least. You stepped out of the shower and into a large comfy shirt. Slipping into bed though you did not sleep a wink that night.

When Andy got home that night from the hospital, after visiting his son he sat quietly with a glass of whiskey thinking. He’d talked about you when he was there, the first time he had talked about another woman to Jacob besides his mom. Obviously he left out the naughty little assistant part where he made you his, made sure you’d beg for no one else. But he did tell him about Neal and how he put him in his place and how Jacob would have laughed at the look on his stupid face, and how kind you were. Jacob would like you a lot; he thought to himself. As he finished his glass of whiskey, he rinsed the glass in the sink and headed to the shower.

The warm water danced across his skin as he leaned against the shower wall, the contrast between the cool tiles and the hot water eased his tense muscles. He closed his eyes, clearing his mind. A smirk crossed his lips as he thought about you. Legs spread wide in front of him, begging for him. The perfect way you arched into him, begging him for more. Your lips on his. A soft groan escaped his throat and he knew he had to stop before he spent the rest of his shower getting himself off. He cleared his mind and finished up. Turning the shower off and tossing on some sweatpants. He picked up his dress pants and dress shirt, hanging them up so he could take them to the cleaners tomorrow, he smirked as that little black lace thong fell out of his pocket onto the floor of his bedroom. He picked it up. His fingers loose around the material. Naughty little girl. He thought as he tucked the garment into the bedside table drawer; his little keepsake.

The next morning you got up and got ready for the day. You smirked in the mirror as you saw the delicate bruises on your skin from Andy’s lips. You decided to only lightly cover the bite mark on your collarbone and wear a blouse that showed it off . Putting it on display to drive Andy crazy and of course as a warning for Neal. “I'm taken. 100% completely taken.” you sigh. You grab the files off your desk, put them into your bag and head to the office, where for the first time since last night you would see Andy.

Andy was in a great mood this morning and everyone noticed. As he stopped to get coffee and as he walked through the halls people couldn’t help but notice that for the first time in what seemed like years. ADA Barber looked happy; really happy. And to be honest he was getting there. As he turned the corner into his office he saw you sitting there already working, already busy with stacks of files on your desk. He couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his lips as he noticed the little bite mark on your collarbone. “Good Morning, beautiful.” he smiles as he leans down whispering in your ear so no one else in the busy office could hear. He sits a cup of coffee on your desk. And heads into his office with a smirk. Your eyes meet his blue ones and he winks. “Good Morning, Andy.” you smile “Thank you.” you mouth. He smiles, giving you a little wink before he disappears behind his office door.

That wasn’t so bad. Even though the two other women who worked in the office with you couldn’t stop staring at you, you just ignored them and went about your day. Your phone buzzed. You looked down. A smirk crossed your lips. “Nice touch with the blouse, think I’ll have a lot more fun taking it off of you tonight though.” -A. You shook your head but you couldn’t stop smiling. “Mr. Barber sir, you better behave, we are at work. Perhaps we should meet somewhere besides the office tonight. Don’t want you getting too loud ;).” you tease. “Oh well I might just have to take you up on your offer…I’ll think of something, Still thinking about spanking you for calling me Mr. Baber though. Perhaps I enjoy the “SIR” ;)” he chuckled. He imagined your cheeks turning red as you read over his message. The phone rang on his desk interrupting his thoughts. “ADA Barber.” he answered. He pulled a file from his briefcase sitting it down on his desk. He ran his long fingers over the wood slowly; just remembering last night. Images danced in his mind as he spoke on the phone.

It was Neal so he wasn’t paying too much attention. He was going on and on about some case and how this or that happened. “Yeah just bring the files to my office Neal, I’ll take a look.” Andy says and he hangs up the phone. “Sorry I have to get back to work, My boss is kind of a hard ass.” you chuckled as you typed the message. “Let me know if you need anything.” you add, placing your phone back in your bag and refocusing on work.

You could hear Andy laughing in his office and you knew it was because of your text; you chuckled. The day was busy and Andy was in and out of his office all day and you knew he was stressed and Neal wouldn’t get off his ass about this case or this deposition or this witness. You were half tempted to tell him to get lost but you bite your tongue. It was about 2pm when Andy’s office door opened and he called for you. “Can I see you in my office, please.” he asks. He looks exhausted. You nod and get up from your desk, all eyes in the office on you as you disappear behind the large office door. “Are you okay?” your words fell silent from your lips as his lips met yours. You sigh. Leaning into his body, into his lips. Hands in his hair, his hands on your hips. He pulls away slowly. A smile now graced his lips.

“Sorry.” he whispers. “Don’t be, are you okay?” you ask, he sits behind his desk and calls to you. “Come here.” he says, pulling you into his arms. “Talk to me.” you whisper. Running your fingers over his cheek and through his hair. “Neal just told me they are going to try Laurie for Jacob’s accident.” he whispers. “Oh.” you whisper. “She’s out of the hospital now and they think she’s well enough for a trial, at least to start one.” he adds. “Do you want that?” you ask him. He sighed. There was silence for a few minutes. “I just want answers. And if it comes to light that she hurt Jacob on purpose then of course that’s what I want. I just feel like an ass for sending her to trial when she just got out of the hospital. But then at the same time she almost killed my son, and I just can’t let that go. I don't know I would do anything for Jacob, obviously you know that. I just don’t want him to hate me when he wakes up and finds out I'm the reason his mom’s in jail. Or whatever.” you chuckle because you don’t think you have ever heard Andy use the would whatever in his entire time as ADA and it seemed like such a childish thing for such a “Grown” man to say.

“I don’t think that Jacob could ever hate you Andy. you stood by him, you believed in him, you protected him. He’s going to know that you had to do what you had to do.” you say caressing his cheek looking deep into his eyes. The two of you just looked at each other for a few minutes. “Thank you.” he whispers. His lips dance across yours once more. You smile. “Anytime. I'm here.” you say as you get off his lap. “Need anything else?” you ask and you see the wheel in his brain turning and a devilish little grin cross his lips. “Work appropriate.” you add. He rolls his eyes. You chuckle. “In that case, I think I'm good now, thank you.” he smiles. You give him one more quick kiss before leaving but he grabs your arm and pulls you back to him. “Dinner. My place tonight.” he whispers. Looking down at you. “Sounds perfect.” you whisper. “Try and behave yourself till then.” you smirk, biting his lip, making him moan. “Ohhhh that’s not fair.” he chuckles. You give him a little wink as you leave his office and head back to your desk. Ughh what did he want? “Mr.Logiudice what can I do for you?” you say as you step from Andy’s office. Absolutely refusing to call him Neal.

As he turned his head to look at you the first thing he noticed was the slightly bruised bite mark on your collarbone. The one that you had specifically refused to cover because you needed him to see you belonged to someone else and though the words had not been spoken between you it was there: you belonged to Andy Barber. He rolled his eyes as he backed off. “Is Andy in?” he asked. You noticed he had stepped back from you. I guess the little bite mark had done the trick. “I will see if he’s available, if not you can leave the files on my desk and I will give them to ADA Barber.” you say, giving him a stern look. “Yeah I bet you will.” Neal mocks rolling his eyes.

You knock on the door again. “Come in.” you hear. You close the door behind you. “Mr.Logiudice is here. Do you want to see him or do you want me to tell him to take a hike?” you wink. Andy laughs. “I would love to see you tell him to take a hike but I suppose I will see him.” Andy laughs. You nod. “Are you sure? I will tell him you’re busy.” you say knowing he should probably have some peace and quiet at least for a few minutes today. “I'm sure” he adds. “But I need something from you first.” he adds, spinning you into his arms. You look up at him. “Anything.” you whisper. He leans down and kisses you long and passionately. You moan between his lips. “That’s all I needed.” he whispers, pulling his lips from yours. You nod with a grin that said please do that anytime you need, sir as you turn from him. He smacks your ass. “HEY!!!” you giggle. Giving him a look. “Send him in.” Andy laughs. “Maybe I’ll flirt with him on the way out.” you jab. “You better not.” he gives you a warning look. “Fine, fine.” you say with a roll of your eyes and a smirk, know you would rather do anything else than flirt with Neal Logiudice. “He’s available.” you say as you open the door to let Mr. Logiudice in.

“Oh yeah.” he thought to himself as he stepped through the ADA’s door. “They are definitely fucking.” He cleared his throat. “Andy, here are the files that you asked for.” Was it any of his business though? Absolutely it was not. But was it going to absolutely annoy him? The answer was yes. As he stepped from Andy’s office after talking with him for 30 minutes or so he walked past your desk looking you over. His eyes caught that little mark once more, the slightest bit of Jealousy ringing through his ears as he marched back to his office. You try not to notice him staring as he walks by but you can’t help it. The guy just gave you the creeps. You looked back down at your computer, your phone buzzed on your desk; you looked down… “ WHAT AN ASSHOLE'' the text read and you let out a loud laugh.

Andy knew that laugh anywhere.. It was you.. He smirked because he knew you had read his message. Neal Logiudice had been flirting with you every single day since you started working here. Well he tried anyway. He knew he’d wanted to date you but Andy had done everything to persuade him otherwise. That’s my girl. He thought. He checked his watch. Almost there.

The office had pretty much cleared out for the night. It was just you at your desk and Andy in his office. It was quarter after five when you heard the door open. You hear him chuckle. You had taken your shoes off and had your bare feet steadily tapping to some song you had playing, you had let your hair out of the clip it had been pinned up in all day, you were chewing on the top of a pen as you thought about something, and he begged to be that close to your lips again. You had a focused look on your face and you looked perfect.. He cleared his throat. You turn to look at him. A quiet sigh left your lips but he caught it.

The way he looked right now. His tie was loosened, hair tousled, shirt a little untucked. His eyes looked tired but bright when they were looking at you and you knew you had it bad. He sat beside you. “Hi.” you whisper giving him your full attention. “Hi.” he whispers back. His hand on your thigh and you wondered if this was the place for this but at this point you didn’t care, if the office was going to talk they were going to talk. We were all adults here. “Long day huh?” you ask him just wanting to check in with him to make sure he was doing okay. “Kind of.” he sighed. He just wanted to be tucked in with you in his arms, out of this suit, out of this office. Away from this world. He knew it had only been a minute since you two had been intimate with each other but he wanted more than this little interoffice fling you were having, so much more. Your voice broke through his silent thoughts. “Here’s what I think we should do..” you pause, he raises a single eyebrow. “I’ll go get some take out from the Chinese place you like down the street, maybe some wine. You stop and check on Jacob and I'll meet you back at your place.” you say taking his hand. “We need to get out of this office, and you need to relax.” you smile as you stand running your hand down his shoulder and kissing his cheek gently before, shoving your laptop into your bag along with some folders.

Andy smiles. “Alright. I think that sounds perfect. You still have that key..” he pauses as he watches you smile. “Yes I still have the key to your place. Now go be with your son. I'll see you later.” you say. “You’re way too good for me.” he whispers as he leans down to kiss your cheek. “I’ll see you later.” he adds. You nod. Giving him one last look before you leave him standing in the dimly lit office space. He grabbed his briefcase and his suit coat from behind his chair and headed out minutes later.

The way he felt right now, he felt kind of guilty for being happy as he drove to the hospital to see his son who was in a coma, who he’d give anything to have back. But he knew Jacob would want him to be happy. He knew this was going to be complicated with work but man he wanted you, everything with you. When Jacob was going through his trial you’d been there, especially when Laurie had left, she’d given up on him, given up on fighting for Jacob’s innocence. But you never did. At the point of his trial you’d been working for him for three years so it wasn’t like you were some new girl who was smitten with ADA BARBER. No you were his right hand. Anything he needed you did, you trusted him, believed in him, believed in Jacob. Even punched a reporter once. Which still to this day made him laugh. He’d always been drawn to your energy, to your light. To your peace. YOU. were exactly what he needed. He knew that now and before anything else could happen between the two of you, before anyone got too emotionally involved he needed to talk to you and make sure you were both on the same page. Tonight. He whispered.

He sat with Jacob for a little while talking to him once again. Telling him about you, about work.. Anything he thought Jacob might want to hear, even that he had tried that call of duty game he had been begging him to try and even though he sucked, he would be practicing so he could whoop his ass when he woke up. “Sorry Mr. Barber, visiting hours are up.” a nurse who had come in to check on Jacob says. He nods. “Sorry I'm just heading out.” he checks his watch. He leans down to kiss his son's forehead and he heads home to you. He smirked. HOME TO YOU!! The thought made his heart race.

You grabbed everything and headed into Andy’s apartment. Which was more like a tiny house than an apartment but still. You’d been here a few times, obviously since you had a key but it was mostly to pick up something for him during the trial. After everything you had offered to give the key back but he told you to keep it just in case. You kicked out of your shoes and sat the food and the wine down on the counter as you turned on the lights. You turned on some soft music as you grabbed some plates from the cupboard. Placing the chinese on them and pouring the wine. You heard a key turn in the door. You smile. “In the kitchen.” you call. The sound of keys hitting the table makes you turn and just like that he’s standing there smiling at you.

“My favorite, you remembered.” he walks into the kitchen leaning over and kissing you. Finally he thought. We can be ourselves. The action made you sit the plates back down on the counter and return the kiss. Fully focused on him. “I could never forget.” you smirk into his lips. “Now come sit.” you demand as you pull yourself from his arms. He groans but follows you with the glasses. He loosens his tie before he sits down with you. The two of you enjoy dinner, talking and laughing, just getting to be yourselves, getting to know one another. “How’s Jake? Any changes?” you ask. Andy sighs. “Nothing really. He’s not getting any better but he’s not getting worse, Doc says that it’s all up to him now and when he’s ready he’ll wake up. He went through something traumatic and he has to be the one that takes the steps to wake up so now it’s just a waiting game. But I appreciate you giving me time to go see him before our date.” Andy adds with a smirk. You blush. “Of course Andy I would never keep you from your son. I know what he means to you and I know it’s important for you to keep that contact with him… wait date?” you give him a funny look

He chuckles. “Yes, a date.” his hand sliding into yours. “You didn’t think this was a one night stand thing, did you, because honestly if you did I totally misread the signs.” he laughed uneasy. You blushed. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted more than…” your words trailed off as his lips met yours. Here we go conversation getting nowhere once again. His thumb caressed your cheek as he pulled his lips away so he could look into your eyes. “I want more, baby. So much more. I want everything and I want it all with you.” he confesses. He’s been divorced long enough at this point and he wanted to be happy again and he wanted to be happy with you. You were speechless. You didn’t know what to say. You never thought he’d want you in this way. “God please say something. I'm going crazy over here.” Andy laughs and so do you. “I want it all, everything with you.” you say repeating his words before kissing him wildly. You’ve left your chair at the table now and you’ve climbed into Andy’s lap and you’re straddling him, hands in his hair as you kiss, his hands on your ass. Soft little sounds leaving both your lips. You slowly pull your lips from his. He groans. “What about work?” you ask. “Do you think you can behave long enough to make it through the work day?” you laugh as he rolls his eyes. “Work will be fine, we are adults, there are no rules that say we can’t date and be together and if they wanna say anything they can kiss my ass.” Andy says. You laugh at him. “Wow ADA Barber, how mature.” you say sarcastically. “I'm serious.” he says. “I don’t care, I've been through hell and I deserve to be happy and as long as we remain professional, they can all shut it.” he smiles. He doesn’t want to talk anymore, he wants to kiss you, and pick you up and take you to his bed.

“I just have one more concern.” you add “Then I swear I'm all yours.” you smirk. “The witness may air her concern.” he laughs. “Ohhh.” you eye him. Lawyer talk apparently got you hot, but you knew that already. You swallowed. “Neal.” you whisper. Andy made a gagging sound but he knew you were right. “You know I used to like that guy when he first started working for me, but honestly since he tried to steal my job and throw the book at my son, and now apparently wants to steal my girl…” he pauses because you blush, and he can’t help but smirk. “I'm honestly ready to fire his ass. Baby let’s not worry about him, okay he’s going to say whatever he’s going to say, as long as he doesn’t put a hand on you, let him be, but I swear if he looks at you again like he did today, I may be forced to find someone to scoop out his eyeballs.” Andy bites his lip. “Ohhhh Andy, I love when you get all over protective of me.” you kiss him again and he knew the conversation was over. He stood from the chair, you still in his lap. You wrap your legs around him and he walks you towards the bedroom, setting you down gently on the bed.

His body above yours, he kissed you slowly. His hands roaming your body, you melt into his touch. His name softly escapes your lips. Sweet whispers filling the room. His hand slipped between you as he fumbled with the zipper of your slacks. You arched your body up towards him so he could slide the fabric over your hips, he tossed the pants to the floor beside the bed.. He ran his hands up your thighs till he reached your blouse. The blouse that you had specifically worn just to show off that little bite mark, that little bite mark that said; I BELONG TO SOMEONE. I belong to ANDY BARBER! Not that anyone would have known but he knew. He gently ran his fingers over the delicate skin of your collarbone. He smirked again as he traced over the mark. You bite your lip. “What is it?” you ask as he pauses. Thinking only of you. “Just enjoying the fact that you’re mine.” he growls and you knew he was done playing around.

“III…I am YOURS..” you stutter.. Without another word he’s gripping the fabric of your blouse and tearing it off, buttons flying in every direction, you gasp. “Andy…” you protest but your pleas fall silent as his lips capture yours. “Shhhh baby, I’ll buy you another, hell I’ll buy you 50 more.” he growls. You sigh as his perfect lips trail down your neck, leaving soft kisses down your cleavage, down your stomach. You whine and he smiles against your skin, as he continues. Settling himself between your thighs. You adjust on the bed to make room for him. Those gorgeous blue eyes look up at you, his lips tracing your inner thigh leaving a trail of delicate soft kisses behind.

You whine as his tongue finds your clit and you can't help but arch your hips into him begging him for more. He moans the vibration sending shockwaves through your body, your fingers finding his dark hair and tugging it gently with each perfect movement. “Andyyy.” You moan. He moves his mouth from you. “Baby you taste so good, so damn sweet, just for me.” He whines. Leaving you before you cum and you whine frustrated. “Hush now angel.” He chuckles, noting your frustration with him. His lips find yours and you taste yourself on them. You moan. “Andy please.” You beg for him. You were tired of waiting; you wanted him; now.

“So impatient, so needy, so perfect.” He grins from above you. His hands find your body once more bringing you to him; lips devouring yours. He wanted to savor every single second with you. Every touch, every kiss, every moan, every sigh, every thrust of your hips and arch of your back, the sound of his name on your perfect lips, every single moment. He did not want to take anything; you, the time or the second chance he was getting for granted.

“Let me” you growl desperately trying to get him as naked and needy as you. He smirks. Allowing you to do what you need. You make easy work of the buttons of his dress shirt, he shrugs out of it and you toss it to the bedroom floor. You trail your fingers down his chest. Memorizing every line and every curve of his body. Your fingers fumble with his belt and he helps you, long fingers intertwined with yours. You look up at him with a gracious smile. Within seconds he’s out of his dress pants and boxers. And he’s naked above you again. “Make love to me, Andy.” you whisper, finger caressing his cheek. He smiles and your heart skips a few beats. “God you’re so beautiful.” he whispers, wrapping his body around yours. You moan loudly as you feel him slide gently into you. Your hips moving in perfect rhythm with his. Soft moans fill the air as he picks up the pace but you match him effortlessly. The two of you, the perfect fit knowing exactly what the other needs, the right movements, the just right sounds to make to have the other begging to cum.

With every movement, every sound, the press of his lips on your skin, your nails leaving scratch marks down his back as his hips collide recklessly with yours, you come closer to your release. You can feel it building and you know Andy is close to his thrust becoming sloppy and needy. “Oh Andy.” you cry out eyes rolling back in your head as you tiptoe into ecstasy. Your lips crashing hard into his. He groans. “Fuck…” he curses he’s so close now. And at this moment, the just too late moment he realizes he has not put on a condom. He ‘s not sure what to do. He's so close, the sight of you moaning his name beneath him as you come undone has him ready to lose himself inside of you. You now realize his hesitation as his hips slow. You now realize the situation you’ve gotten yourself into. You hesitate but only for a second before you reassure him that it’s fine. “It’s okay, Andy let go.” you whisper through heavy breaths. That’s all he needed to hear. He let himself fill you. You could feel him warm inside you. You sigh. “Mmm Baby.” he whines as his motions slow, his head tossed back, your name on his lips. He stills inside you as he finishes. Both of you are breathless. He takes a moment to savor the way you look and feel while he’s inside of you. The way you’re looking up at him, so happy, so satisfied, all because of him. His fingers caress your cheek as he collapses on the bed beside you. Your sweaty bodies tangled together.

You hear the slightest giggle leave his lips as he lays there beside you so happy. “What?” you smile, your fingers dancing across his chest. “I was just thinking about that time you slugged that reporter.” he laughs uncontrollably. “Really Andy? Right now?” you can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips. “Sorry, I can’t help it.” He's still laughing. “He deserved it, he was following me all day, asking me if i was fucking you and if i was the reason you got divorsed from your wife. And if I knew your son was a killer. He deserved everything he got, trust me.” you laugh. You feel his fingers on your skin. “You know?” he whispers. “What babe?” you ask. “I think that was the first time I felt something more for you than just friendship.” he admits. You blush. “Because I punched someone.” you laugh. “Yes.” he smiles. “Because I knew you were loyal to me, that you’d protect me and my family and with everything that happened with Laurie that meant so much to me.'' He says he’s staring into your eyes and the moment is a little intense but you use it to your advantage. “I will always protect you Andy no matter what.” you confess. Your voice is soft and loving. He melts into you.

“And I will always protect you.” he whispers, his lips melting with yours. Your bodies collide again. He smiles into your lips. “I guess that reporter was right.” he chuckles. You snort. “He’d be right now.” you retort as you find yourself on top of him once again. The two of you getting lost in each other for a few more hours. The sun was shining through the large bay window in his bedroom. His large muscled body tangled with yours. You open your eyes slowly. A smile crossing your lips as your fingers dance across his still sleeping face. “Oh Andy. what have we gotten ourselves into.” you whisper as you watch him sleep for a few more minutes. You feel him waking up beside you. “Good morning, beautiful.” he smiles at the sight of you in the sunlight naked in his bed wrapped up in his body. He’s kissing your neck. “MMM now I can get used to this, ADA Barber.” you giggle as your body melts with his. “ but I think I better get to work before my boss gets in, not sure if you know but he’s a pretty strict District attorney.” you smirk as you try to move from his arms. He smirks. “I feel like he may have a soft spot for you, he may let you come in a little late.” he smirks. “Oh yeah, late enough to take a shower with me.” you smirk as you attempt to pull him from bed. “Hmmmm I think he could be persuaded.” he says getting up from the bed and pulling you towards the shower. “I may have some ideas.” you say with a giggle as the warm water dances across both of your bodies. Neither one of you really cared that you both were going to be very late for work.

When Andy Came out of the bathroom, his dress pants hung low on his hips because he hadn’t buttoned them yet. He wasn’t wearing a shirt yet either. you looked at him. A smile crossed your lips. He looked damn good. He looked up and noticed you were wearing his shirt. He smirked. “Looks pretty good on you.” he pulls you into his arms. “Yeah?” you question. “Yeah.” he whispers into your lips. “Good enough to let me wear to work today?” you question raising an eyebrow at him. You heard a low hum come from deep in his throat. “Ohhh without a doubt.” he says. Knowing everyone in the whole damn office would know that was his shirt. He’d worn it a million times. It was one of his favorites but he did have to admit it looked a lot better on you. “Thank you, I wouldn’t ask but if someone hadn’t ruined mine, I could have at least worn it out the door till I got to my work locker where I have a change of clothes, but you know since it has no buttons I don’t think that would work.” you smirk at him as you pull your pants over your hips. “I'm going to plead the fifth.” he chuckles. “Yeah that’s what I thought, counselor.” you laugh as you walk to him and help him with his tie. “Thank you.” he whispers. “Anytime.” you smile up at him. He leans down to kiss your lips. You moan quietly. “Alright I gotta go before we are even later.” you say pulling yourself from his body. “See you at work.” you say trying to get away before you ended up wasting the whole day with him.

“Fine Fine, I'll see you there.” he says kissing you one more time. “Sorry, that has to last me the whole day.” he jokes as you give him a look. “I mean does it?” you flirt, giving him a little wink as you head out the door and to your car. “Tease.” you hear him shout after you. You laugh. The drive to work seemed quick, too quick. You grab your bag out of the back seat and head into the office. You tried not to notice the pairs of eyes locked on you. “Morning.” you say as you sit down at your desk. “Sorry I'm late.” you say to Ginny who is one of your closet friends at the office. “Uh huh i'm sure you’ll be excused.” she joked. You roll your eyes, what did she know. “Mr. Barber’s not in?” you question knowing damn well he wasn't, knowing he was right behind you, knowing you’d just left him in the parking garage, his lips barely separating from yours. She gave you a look like, yeah you know he’s not. But she stayed quiet.

“Morning ladies.” he says as he turns the corner into the office. His eyes locked on yours. “Morning Mr. Barber.” Ginny says. Then she looks to you to see what you say. “Good Morning, Andy.” you smile proud of yourself. That was all yours. He gave you a little wink and disappeared into his office. Ginny looked at you. “See somehow I knew you’d be just fine.” she teased. You roll your eyes at her. “Shut it,” you say with a laugh. The day continues without any further issues. Even though eyes were quietly still on you. “Uh oh here comes your other boyfriend, better break the news to him quickly.” Ginny laughs as Neal turns the corner into the office. You looked down at your watch and you knew Andy was on a call and he was not to be interrupted, especially by neal. You give Ginny a look. “First off eww. And second off shut up.” you tease her.

He turned the corner and he stopped. The shirt. He’d seen that shirt hundreds of times beside him in court but now it dawned your body. His blood boiled he knew there was something between you and Andy. he walked past your desk without saying a word and straight to Andy’s office. You pushed past Ginny. “Oh No you don’t.” you shout. “ADA Barber is on a conference call and he can not be distubed.” you say sliding between Neal and Andy’s door. If he wanted in that office he was going to have to go through you. He huffed. “Neal, I'm serious. He’s working. I’ll tell him you wanted to see him and he will call you. Now please stop.” you stand firm in the shadow of this much larger man. All eyes in the office had turned to watch the scene unfold outside of Andy’s office. You kept eye contact with him, not budging. “Fucking the ADA has made you a little too bold there sweetheart you better watch who you talk to like that you just never know what could happen.” he turns and walks out of the office as you gasp behind him. Matter of fact the whole office gasped. Then they waited, waited to see how you would respond to one; his claim and two his threat.

“NEAL LOGIUDICE how dare you!” you shout after him. He turned, a smile on his face and you knew he had gotten just what he wanted; confirmation. “First of all…you don’t get to talk to me like that and second of all, whoever I'm.. How’d you put that uhh “Fucking.” is none of your business. Just because I have turned down your advances for 5 years now doesn’t mean you get to treat me like some discarded piece of trash because you didn’t get your way. So please take your baseless threats out of this office. Before I have you escorted out!” you shout. “What in the world is going on out here.” you turn into Andy’s chest as he walks out of his office. He looks down at you, notices immediately how upset you were, then looks out to see Neal and the entire office looking at you. “Neal, my office NOW!” he shouts. He gives you a soft forgive me look and heads into the office. Everyone else in the office went back to work, no one dared make eye contact with you.

All you heard was Andy Yelling. He was pissed, furious.. Words couldn't describe how angry he was right now. He wanted nothing more than to fire his ass right there in that office in front of god and everyone but he didn’t.. “Get the fuck out of my office and don’t you ever speak to her like that again or I swear to god you will never work as lawyer in this town again, you understand me?” Andy yelled. Neal nodded and he left Andy’s office. He looked at no one as he hurried out of the office.

You tried to hide your embarrassment, you could not believe that had just happened. You literally wanted to crawl under your desk. “Are you okay?” Ginny asks a few minutes later just trying to give you some space to process. “Umm yeah I think so.” you say. Just trying to get back to work. You look out into the office. Well if people didn’t know about you and Andy they did now there was no hiding it after that. But did you care? The answer was no, you didn’t. A few minutes after Neal left the door to Andy’s office opened once again. All eyes fell to him. “Can I see you in my office, please.” he asks. You nod. Getting up; desperate to be held by him. You stepped into his office. He closed the door behind him and he pulled you into his arms. “I'm so sorry.” you sob into his chest. “Hey hey it’s okay you did nothing wrong.” His voice is as soft and smooth as ever, comforting you. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene, I just couldn't let him be that smug, that arrogant, not after everything.” you are still sobbing. But he’s still holding you tightly.

Neal had once tried to take everything from Andy; his Job, his son, his family. He wasn’t about to get away with it again. “Shhh I know baby. It’s all going to be okay.” Andy rubs your back as you cry. He pulls you from his chest, his thumb wipes away the tears from your cheek. “He’s not going to be an issue any longer. I promise.” his eyes looked at you so lovingly you thought you might explode. He leans down and kisses you. After a few seconds he pulls his lips slowly away from yours. Holding your face in his hands. “It’s all going to be alright.” he whispers. “I know.” you say your voice breaking as you speak.. “Now that didn’t sound as confident as the gorgeous woman I saw stand up for herself, stand up for me.” he smirks. You blush. “I have my moments.” you say. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks. You nod. “I think I’ll be okay.” you say. “Alright, get that cute little ass back to work then.” Andy smirks at you. “Will do.” you wink as you wipe your tears, look quickly to make sure you don’t look too much like a hot mess and head back to your desk. By now you were sure the rumors were swirling around the office. Andy’s office door closes behind you as you turn to your desk the room fills with applause. You blush. “God it’s about time someone put that jerk in his place, we’re Team Barber in the office.” one of the older ladies you worked in the office organizing papers says. You smile at her and head back to your desk hoping for a drama free rest of the day. You got your wish. It was 515 when Ginny finally gave up and went home. “Have a good night. Don’t stay up too late with the ADA.”she smirks. Rubbing your shoulder as she walks by. You smile. “I will.” you joke. She laughs. “I know. See you tomorrow.” she smirks as she leaves you at your desk. You reclined in your chair. What a fucking day it had been and you were ready to go.

Andy appeared. “Ready to go?” he asks. “Very much so.” you say. “Let me grab something really quick then we can go.” he says. You nod. You get your bag and eagerly sit on the side of your desk. Andy returns from his office and he extends his hand out for yours. You look at him. “Mise well.” he smirks. You intertwine your fingers with his. For the very first time in a very long time Andy felt at peace. You walk out of the office hand in hand. “Come on, we'll get your car later.” he says, opening the passenger side of his Audi for you. You do as you're told. “I just want to make a quick stop and then I'm all yours.” he smiles. You look over at him in the driver seat; one hand on the wheel, the other hand on your thigh and you relaxed. “Whatever you need, I'm just happy to be along for the ride.” you smile squeezing his hand that was on your thigh.

He pulled into a parking spot at the hospital. Somehow you knew this was where he was going. “I can wait in the car if you want.” you whisper. He looks at you and shakes his head. “Please, come in with me.” It was more of a question than a request. You smile at him. “Of course. Baby.” you caress his cheek. He gets out and opens the door for you, then takes your hand and the two of you walk hand in hand to see Jacob. “Good to see you Mr. Barber.” one of the nurses said with a sweet smile. You knew she was only being nice but the tiniest bit of jealousy rang through your ears and you squeezed tighter onto his hand. You heard him chuckle.

As you entered Jacob’s room a quiet gasp left your lips. He looked so tiny hooked up to all those machines. You couldn’t imagine Andy sitting here talking to him for hours all alone. You let him have his time with his son sitting next to him just watching, listening to him talk to him, telling him about his day, about you, about anything and everything. You squeeze Andy’s shoulder as he tells Jacob goodbye. As he’s leaving he turns to see you squeezing Jacobs hand and whispering something to him. He smiles. “Don’t worry Jake I’ll take care of your Dad, you just get better okay. I’ve got him.” you squeeze his hand and then turn to Andy, who was waiting by the door. He looked at you for a minute. “What?” you giggle. “Gunna tell me what you said back there?” he asks as he takes back your hand and the two of you leave the hospital. “I think that’s a secret between Jacob and I.” you smirk. He sighs. “Fine.” he gives in.

The two of you turn the corner heading towards the parking lot laughing and joking, not really paying attention when you run smack into someone. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry.” you say looking up into the eyes of the woman, you recognized immediately as Andy’s ex wife Laurie. Shit. you whisper. First Neal and now you had to deal with this. “Andy.” she whispers looking at the two of you. There was silence. “Aren’t you Andy’s Assistant?” She says her tone is none too pleasant. “Yes I work for An..” Andy cuts you off, giving you a look like you do not have to explain yourself. “She’s my girlfriend.” he says. Your eyes widen at his confession. That was the first time he had said the words. Laurie looks just as surprised as you do at his confession. “Ohh.” she says you can see the heartbreak in her eyes. And you feel kind of bad for her. “What are you doing here, laurie?” Andy asks. There was silence for a minute like she was still processing the fact that he had moved on. “I had one last check up to make sure everything was okay.” she admits but she’s not looking him in the eyes. “And..” she stops. “And what laurie?” Andy says. “I thought maybe I could See Jacob.” she blurts out. You felt Andy’s whole body tense. “NO! Absolutely not.” he begins to shout. She steps back. “But you’re here with HER!!! To see him.” she cries. “Yeah but I didn’t put him here, Laurie!!” Andy shouts. “Andy!” you say trying to calm him down. “Please, baby calm down.” you beg him . he features soften as he looks down at you. “Don’t do this.” you whisper to him. He nods and you feel him relax.

“I will give you 5 minutes and I'm staying.” he says. Laurie nods. “Thank you.” she says looking at you, knowing if it hadn’t been for you she probably wouldn’t be seeing her son. “Don’t thank me, it was his decision.” you say. The three of you walk awkwardly back towards Jacob’s room. One of the nurses had come out from behind the nurses station. Andy nodded. “It’s okay.” he whispers. He stands in the doorway watching her closely. He gives her a few minutes. “Alright Laurie that’s enough.” he says his voice growing stern again and you knew he had his lawyer voice on now. She nods, thankful she had gotten any time at all and leaves the hospital. “She doesn’t come anywhere near him without me present, if she does call the police.” Andy says to the nurse on duty. “Yes Mr. Barber, it's clearly noted here.” she says with a smile. “Thank you, I just want to make sure.” he adds. He wraps his arms around you. “Are you okay?” you ask him. Noticing how tense his muscles were. He nods yes but you know he’s lying.

“Come on, let’s get you home Mr. Barber.” you smirk. He raises an eyebrow at you. You take his hand and leave the hospital. Andy lets out a huge sigh when you get into the car and you know he’s upset. You put your hand on his thigh. “I have an Idea, stop at the diner on our way home.” you smirk. The words “Our” and “home” circled in Andy’s head and he couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his lips. “Yes ma’am.” he smiles at you. He does what you ask. You run in picking up two cheese burgers, lots of french fries and two chocolate milkshakes. “Really?” he laughs. “Trust me.” you smile. Silence filled the car as he looked over at you, blue eyes lost in yours. “Always.” he whispers as he leans over the center console to kiss you.

You get back to Andy’s place. You get out some plates and you give him his. “Now come on.” you say pulling him to the couch in front of the big screen TV. you put on some funny movie you knew he loved and you snuggled in a blanket with him as you ate your dinner. As the french fries disappear and the the wrapers find their way into the trash Andy finds himself tangled up with you on the couch laughing hysterically over this stupid movie you had put on. “See i told you, everything was gunna be alright.” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair as he lay there with his head on your lap. “Thanks to you.” he whispers. His voice, almost sleepy. You couldn’t help but smile. “Both Laurie and Neal In one day, it’s a lot but we got through it..” you pause looking down at him. “Together.” your fingers caress his cheek. A quiet hum leaves his lips as his eyes close and he melts into your touch completely. You let the silence fill the room for a while as you let him relax… “What’s on your mind, love.” he asks as the silence becomes too much for him. He looks up at you chewing on your bottom lip. You sigh. He sits up taking you in his arms. “Talk to me.” he whispers.

“I was just wondering if we were going to talk about it…” you pause. He looks at you confused. What was there to talk about you’d already seen each other naked multiple times so that definitely couldn’t be it. You laugh at his confused face. “What you called me at the hospital silly, you called me your girlfriend… Did you mean that or did you just say it because Laur……” your words are stopped by his lips. He sure did know how to make you shut up. You groan softly as he pulls his lips away from yours. He looks at you. His eyes sparkle with something new, hope maybe and you wonder what he’s thinking.

“Of course I meant it. After today with Neal at the office, what he said to you and how badly I wanted to punch him square in the jaw and then at the hospital with Jacob, and then literally running into Laurie. It made me realize, even though I told you I wanted it all with you I never REALLY said it but today everything made me realize that I want you in my life not only as my assistant but as my girlfriend. Being with you has filled some hole in me I never thought I would get back, made me feel happy again, after everything that happened I never thought I would or could feel like this again. So yes I meant it every single word.” he confessed. For a moment you are at a loss for words. This man was absolutely everything to you.

“Please be my girl?” the question finally leaves his lips. You can’t help but smile. “Yes one thousand times yes, Andy.” you say with a giggle wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him crazy. In that moment he had never felt more relaxed with you in his arms. “What do you say we get out of these clothes?” he whispers into your ear. You nod. Squealing as he picks you up effortlessly off the couch tossing you over his shoulder. You smack his ass. “I'd say that’s a brilliant Idea.” you giggle. As he walks you both towards the bedroom. Both of you, changing and snuggling into Andy’s bed.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and before you knew it you and Andy had been together for 3 months, still working side by side at the office and living together in Andy’s Large apartment.. You couldn’t believe where the time had gone. “ADA Barber’s office.” you say answering the phone. “One second please.” you say placing the phone on hold and knocking on Andy’s door. “Yeah.” you hear him call. You step into his office. “It’s the hospital, line 2.” you say. He nods. You turn to head back to your desk. “Wait, stay.” he whispers, almost scared to answer. You nod and make your way over to him, taking a seat in his lap as he reaches for the phone, holding you closely. “Andy Barber.” he says his grip on you tightens as you wait patiently in his lap. “Uh huh, yes of course I’ll be there immediately.” he says. “Thank you.” he hangs up the phone. Silence fills the room as you wait for him to tell you what's going on. He looks at you, a huge smile creeps across his face. “Andy baby what is it?” you ask him. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you wildly, passionately. “He’s awake. Jacob is awake.” he says and you almost don’t believe him. “What?” you whisper. “That was the doctor Jacob is out of his coma.” he says, still not fully believing his own words. “Andy, what are you still doing here? go! go be with your son. I’ll hold down the fort. And see you at home.” you smile you couldn’t believe it. “Right um yeah I should go.” he says. You get up from his lap. He kisses you again. “He’s awake.” he whispers as tears fill his eyes. “I’ve got things here, Andy.” you say handing him his keys. You sigh. The look on his face said it all. He was finally whole again.

You could hear him as he left telling everyone and the cheering and clapping that followed him out the door to the parking garage. “Finally” You whisper out loud to the emptiness that was Andy’s office. “Hold Mr. Barber’s calls.” you say. As you step back into the office. Realizing you were talking about yourself. you laugh. “Nice.” Ginny laughs. “Hey I had to pretend I was someone important for a second.” you laugh as you take your seat back at your desk. Your heart was so full of happiness for Andy. All he wanted was for Jacob to wake up, and now it had finally happened. Although part of you wondered how long it would be before Neal came calling to try and piece together what happened in the car that day; that day that changed everything.

Andy calls you to tell you everything that’s going on. “Do you want me to come to the hospital or meet you at home?” you ask, wanting to know what he needed. There was silence for a few minutes. You didn’t want to overwhelm him. “Come to the hospital please.” he says. “Sure, I’ll be there as soon as I finish here.” you say. “Thank you, see you soon… I love you.” he says not even realizing what he said it just came out like it was something he’d been saying for years, so simple and so natural. You pause and smile. “I love you too Andy, i’ll be there soon.” you say. You can’t help the smile that creeps across your lips. Assistant District Attorney Andy Barber, Loved you. He’d said it plain as day no hesitation no, coercion, nothing but a simple happy meaningful I Love You. Ginny looks up at you from her desk. “Did I hear what I think I heard??” she asks. You shake your head yes. “Wow!” she says. She’d known all along since about a year after Andy’s divorce that you two would somehow find your way to each other, it was in the way that you always looked at each other, how you simply knew what the other needed without words, how you just seemed to always be there for each other. She knew it all along and she honestly couldn’t be happier for you or for ADA Baber. “Would you mind driving me to the hospital? I drove with Andy today and I think he may have forgotten that.” you laugh. She laughs. “Of Course, let me get my bag.” she says and before you know it the two of you are walking down the hall arm in arm talking and laughing. She dropped you off at the hospital.

“Knock knock.” you smile as you walk into Jacob’s room. There he was eyes open, chatting with Andy like he hadn’t missed a beat, like that sweet little dark haired boy you had always known. Andy stands up and walks to you. He gives you a sweet kiss and takes your hand. “So this is your assistant huh?” Jacob smiles. Andy laughs. “Yes son, she worked on your trial with me.” he nods. “Oh I remember.” Jacob laughs. “You weren’t kidding dad, she really is pretty.” you blush. “I heard you took pretty good care of my dad while I was in my coma.” Jacob says. You give Andy a look like; Andrew Baber what did you tell this kid. Andy winked at you. “Of course I did, someone had to look after him for you.” you smile sitting down on the opposite side of Jacob's bed. “Thank you.” he whispers, hugging you. You hug him back. “No problem kid, he never gave up on you, and I never gave up on him.” you whisper looking over at Andy with a sweet smile.

You excuse yourself from the room after a few minutes; to give Andy and Jacob some time together but also because you needed to get some air. That’s when you saw her. Laurie. You couldn’t stop your feet from moving in her direction. She had been crying. “Hey are you okay?” you ask her. You were way too nice of a person. She looked up at you. “Jacob’s going to be okay right?” she asks you. As if she was trying to convince herself. “He’s awake, they’ve been running tests but for now he’s going to be okay, until we know more anyways.” you say. You hear a large sigh of relief leave her lips and for the first time since the accident you actually felt like she may have crashed that car on purpose. You step back from her. “Laurie, you know if Andy see’s you here, he’s not going to be happy.” you say allowing yourself space between Andy’s ex wife and yourself.

She stood straight up and you noticed the look in her eyes had changed. The sad heart broken mother who just wanted to check on her son who just came out of a coma had suddenly been filled with rage. And that’s when you knew it for sure; she had tried to kill her son. “Please Laurie just go, I won’t tell Andy you were here. Please just leave Andy and Jacob alone, okay. Haven’t you caused enough pain…” that was the absolute wrong thing to say. “Look here bitch you don’t get to tell me what to do with my family, I was there wayyyyy before your little slut ass strolled into the office and stole my husband and wrecked my family…” “Whoa Laurie I wasn’t with Andy until way after your divorce so don’t blame this on me..” you interrupt her, stepping closer and closer back to the room, back to the Safety of Andy.

Andy heard yelling out in the hall. And he stood immediately. “I’ll be right back, kid.” he says practically running from the room and into the hall where he saw Laurie screaming at you. “Mr. Barber, do you want me to call security?” one of the nurses asks. He nods yes. He’s immediately between you and Laurie. He saw how scared you were and he was not happy. “Andy.” you stop him. “It’s fine just let her go.” you say begging him to just let her go before someone gets hurt. “You ruined our lives, you homewrecking slut.” Laurie shouts before she hauls off and punches you square in the face. “Y|N!” Andy Shouts as security grabs Laurie and takes her away still screaming profanities at you.

“Baby are you okay?” Andy says helping you up. You were still in shock. One of the nurses brought you an Ice pack. “Let me see.” Andy asks, touching the hand that covered your eye. “Ouch.” you wince as his long fingers caress your bruised cheek. “I'm sorry, baby I'm so damn sorry.” he whispers. “Don’t be sorry it was my fault I tried to be nice, to be the bigger person. Look where that got me.” you sigh. “Could you please have someone check and make sure she’s okay.” Andy asks. “Sure Mr. Baber'' the nurse responds “Come with me I’ll take care of you, miss.” you didn't want to leave Andy. “Could you give me a second.” you ask. She nods. “Andy.” you grab his arm. “What is it, babe?” he asks, concerned. “Ask Jacob if he remembers what happened the day of the accident. Please. I know he just woke up but she did it Andy, I know she did.” you sob he takes you into his arms. “Hey hey hey it’s okay. I've got it under control. Go with this nice nurse and she will make sure you’re okay and then you can come back with me and Jacob. Don’t you worry I have everything under control. I love you.” he whispers and you wince as his fingers touch your black eye. “Sorry.” he whispers. Kissing your forehead. “I'll be right here.” he says.

You go with the nurse and they check and make sure that everything is okay and that you didn’t have a concussion. “Everything looks good. You are probably going to have a nice shiner but I think you will be okay.” the doc says. He lets you know the concussions symptoms just in case and asks that you come back immediately if you experience any of them. You thank him and head back to the room where Andy and Jacob were waiting.

“Was that mom?” Jacob asks, scared. Andy takes his hand. “Yeah it was son.” he notices Jacob swallowing hard. “What is it Jake?” Andy asks. He knew something was wrong. “You don’t think she will come back do you?” Jacob asks scared to death and Andy knows it. “No son, she won't be back.” Andy assures him. Andy thinks about what you said to him, how upset you had been. What did Laurie say to you that made you say what you said? “Dad?” Jacob says quietly. “What is it son?” “You know you can tell me anything.” he says

Silence filled the room. Quiet beeps from machines connected to Jacob were the only sounds that could be heard in the room. “The day of the accident, mom was supposed to take me to get a haircut. Everything seemed fine. It was quiet but that was normal for us at that point. Then she started talking crazy, how I wasn’t her little boy anymore and how she didn’t even know who I was anymore. And how I was the reason that the two of you were getting divorced, it was all because of me.” he paused because he was crying. How could his mom say those things to him? “It’s alright son.” Andy assures him. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Like he always had a feeling something happened in that car that day, just based on how he found the house when he came home that day and then he couldn’t get a hold of her. But hearing these words from his son broke his heart.

“I kept asking her to slow down. I begged her to stop and talk to me or to call you but she wasn’t listening, she sounded crazy and she just kept driving crazier and faster and the more I begged the more she cried and yelled at me blaming me for everything, saying I was the cause of everything and that’s when she swerved and hit the side of the bridge headon. I'm sorry dad, I'm sorry I’m the reason you almost lost your Job, and our family is so broken.” he sobs. Andy was in tears. “Son, don't you dare blame yourself. We were in trouble long before the trial, you are the best thing that ever happened to me son and I could never ever imagine not having you in my life.” Andy Sobs. “I love you, kid always.” he hugs him fiercely. The two of them were crying together. “I love you too dad!” Jacob cries.

You stand outside the door. You couldn’t bring yourself to go inside. Everything you just heard. How could someone not love their child? No matter what they’ve done, or what they may do you should always be their protector. You begin to cry yourself. how? You just keep asking yourself. Andy notices Jacob looking at the door and looks over to see you standing there. He stands walking to you. “I'm okay.” you manage in sobs. Your black eye is really beginning to show now. “I didn’t want to interrupt.” you say. “I need to make a call quickly. Can you watch Jake?” Andy asks. “Of course.” you say wondering if he was okay. He nods. Like he read your mind. “Everythings going to be okay.” He kisses you and heads out into the hallway.

You sit beside Jacob, who is staring at you. “What’s on your mind kid?” you ask with a small smile, squeezing his hand. “Can I ask you something?” he says. “Depends on what it is?” you joke. He laughs. “Do you love my dad?” he asks. You sigh. “More than anything Jacob.” you say without hesitation. “Why do you ask?” you give him a soft look. Jacob smiles. “Because he deserves someone who loves him, he’s been through a lot and deserves to be happy” he admits. Wow. “You are right, he has been through a lot, and deserves more than happiness, he deserves the world. But now that you're awake and on the road to recovery I think his world is going to be just fine, we can take care of him together.” you smile at him. He smiles. “I really like you.” he laughs. You can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips. “I really like you too, Jake.” the two of you get lost in a less serious conversation, laughing, talking about Andy, talking about anything and everything. You couldn’t believe how smart he was but you should be surprised so was his dad.

Andy returns after making a call. The DA’s office was going to prosecute Laurie for Attempted murder, she would probably plead some kind of insanity and instead of jail she’d serve her time in a mental health facility. “What are you two talking about in here?” he asks, sitting beside you, taking your hand in his. “You.” Jacob laughs. Andy raises an eyebrow at the two of you. Everyone laughed and for the first time Andy felt whole. “I know that it’s been an exciting day for all of you.” the doc says. “But we should probably let Jacob rest now.” he suggests. Andy was hesitant to leave his side. “Don’t worry Mr. Baber, we have everything under control here.” the doctor reassures him. “You’ll call us if anything changes?” he asks. “Immediately.” the doc promises. Andy looks over at Jacob. “I’ll be fine dad.” Jacob laughs. “I know you will kid.” Andy kisses him on the forehead. “We’ll be back in the morning. Call us if you need anything.” Andy hands Jacob a phone. Jacob thanks him. “Good night!” we’ll see you in the morning.” you say squeezing his hand. “Just make sure he’s okay. He’s all I have.” Jacob whispers. You look at him softly. “No he’s not, you have me, always.” you whisper winking at him. “But I'll make sure he’s good I promise.” you smile. He squeezes your hand and you head out hand and hand with Andy.

When you get home Andy is exhausted. “Come here.” you whisper pulling him to you. You sit behind him. Hands massaging his very tense shoulders. Undoing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt a little. He sighs. You smirk. “You remember what happened last time you did this.” he smirks. You laugh. Because of course you remembered. His body relaxed under your touch. A soft moan leaves his lips. You lean down so you can whisper in his ear. “If i'm not mistaken you fucked me on your desk like the dirty little homewrecking slut that I apparently am.” you chuckle nibbling on his ear. A low groan resonates deep in his throat. You smirk as you kiss down his neck. He smirks. “I don’t recall the dirty little homewrecking slut part, which by the way you are not. but I do remember fucking you on my desk, getting lost in you, the way you made me feel, how you made me forget for a while that my life was a hot fucking mess, I remeber falling so in love with you that night.”Andy confesses pulling you into his arms. “Is that so?” you smile up at him, that night seemed so long ago. “Yes, your light, the hope you gave me for the future. I knew at that moment that there was nowhere else I would rather be, then making it through life with you.” he whispers. You smile. “Hmmm all that thinking while you were buried deep inside me huh?” you laugh. He snorts. “Well I thought about a lot of other things too.” he smirks, raising one eyebrow. “Do tell.” you laugh.

The two of you laid on the couch talking and laughing and relaxing for what seemed like hours before Andy yawned. “Come on handsome, let’s get you to bed, it’s been a long day.” you say getting up from the couch and dragging him to your shared bedroom. He ran his thumb over your darkening black eyes. “I'm sorry.” he whispers into your lips. You sigh. “Don’t be. I'm alright, Jacob's alright, you're all right. Let’s just move on from it. Okay.” you melt into his touch. “Any chance you let me fuck you, like that dirty little homewrecking slut tonight?” he laughs out loud as you roll your eyes. “Hmmm Jury’s still out on that ADA Barber.” you giggle as you find his body on top of yours, his lips on your skin.

Jacob was doing great. He was improving everyday with physical therapy and the doctor said he could go home anytime. You and Jacob had gotten very close over the last few weeks and you were very excited to have your boys home with you. Andy returned to the office and just as he had predicted Laurie was charged with Attempted murder of a minor and is serving her time in a mental instatution, where she was being treated for bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder. She’d been traumatized by the trial, by the divorce but that still did not excuse what she had done.

Several months passed. Jacob was back to his old self once again. And he and Andy had been locked away in his office planning some top secret surprise. “Boys dinner.” you called them as you set the table. They come racing down the stairs. “This smells amazing.” Andy says pulling the chair out for you and kissing you slowly. Jacob rolls his eyes and laughs. “Get a room.” he giggles. Andy shoots him a look. “Yeah yeah I know it’s your house and this IS technically your room.” Jacob retorts. The three of you laugh. “Any chance either one of you is going to tell me what you are planning up there?” you ask, eyeing them. Andy hums and shakes his head. “Nope sorry.” Jacob adds high fiving his dad. You laugh. “Well I guess since you two want to keep secrets, then you two can do the dishes.” you smirk. The boys look at each other. “Sounds like a fine deal to me.” Jake says. “Yeah I think we can handle that.” They look at each other. You help clear the table and then take your glass of wine to the living room as you watch the two of them. Happy, content, home.

When you came home from work Andy and Jacob were in your bedroom. The two of them had suitcases packed by the door, both of them wearing swim trunks and Hawaiian shirts. “What in the world?” you smile. “So we’ve decided that we need to get away.” Jacob says. “And now that Jacob is better and things have calmed down at work, now is as good a time as any.” Andy smiles. “Jacob and I have meticulously planned every detail of this trip, right down to the matching outfits and alone time.” Andy Winks. “All you have to do is say yes and pack.” Jacob adds. “How am I going to say no to all this, to time away with the two of you.” you smile as they pull you into a shared hug. “When do we leave?” you ask. “Tomorrow.” Andy smiles. “Well then better get packing.” you laugh. Your suitcase was already on the bed ready to be packed. “You two just thought of everything, didn’t you.” they both proudly nod.

Once you boarded that plane to Hawaii the next morning it seemed like alll your worries and cares were left back in Massachusetts. You had never seen either of the Baber boys this happy before and it honestly made your heart swell with love for them both. Little did you know that this was only the beginning of their surprise.

You spent two days now on the beach, beers in hand tanning, enjoying the sun watching the boys on Jet skis. This may have actually been heaven. Seeing Andy this way only made you fall in love with him more. When you arrived back in the room after a day spent at the spa which had been organized for you by Andy, there was a box on the bed with a note. “Put me on and meet us out back.” you smiled as you laid the note down on the bed and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful flirty little dress. You got ready in the bathroom and walked out the doors in your room to the deck patio that had been lit with candles. That’s when you saw them there. “You sure about this dad?” Jacob asks, looking up at Andy. “Son, I've never been more sure about anything.” he says, patting Jake on the back.

“Well look at you two all dressed up and no place to go.” you laugh. They both chuckle but you notice that the moment has suddenly become serious. “What’s going on?” you ask. Stepping towards Andy, who takes your hand. You look at him. “Andy?” you whisper. “You have been my rock, even before you were mine.” he starts. You swallow. “Who would have thought that my assistant would end up changing my life, and that’s just what you did. I love you so much and we..” he pauses because he looks over at Jacob, who smiles. “Couldn’t imagine our lives without you in it.” he gets down on one knee and you gasp. “Andy.” you are crying. “Will you Marry me?” he asks, looking up at you with the most gorgeous eyes. How could you resist? “YES! A thousand times yes ANDY BARBER!!” Jacob hands him a small velvet box, opening it slowly revealing a gorgeous single princess cut diamond ring with diamonds all the way around the band. He slides the ring on your finger and pulls you in for a kiss. Jacob made sure to capture all the precious moments. “Come here Kid.” you smile, tears streaming down your face. You pull him into the shared hug between you and Andy.

It was the three of you against the world. “I'm gunna go play some games in the lobby, let you have some alone time.” Jacob smirks. “Not too late, young man.” you laugh. He rolls his eyes. “See you got the mom tone down already,'' he jokes. “Love you both.” he says, taking one last look back at the family he was so grateful for, one that believed in him, one that saved him.

“Well future Mrs. Baber, what shall we do with our time?” he smirks, kissing your neck. You moan. “Hmmmm I can think of a few things we could do to pass the time.” you smirk. He picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. Your new dress slowly finds its way to the floor and the two of you find yourself tangled in sheets and each other. As you lay there afterwards your new ring sparkling off the tan skin of Andy’s chest. How did you get here? “How did you go from Mr.Barber’s assistant to Mr.Barber wife? You never imagined that this incredible man and this sweet young boy would be your family. But whatever you did to deserve them you knew one thing was for sure you never ever planned to take it for granted.

After you returned home from Hawaii you and Andy went back to work and Jacob finally went back to school. Andy was up for promotion to District Attorney and obviously he asked you to move offices with him and continue being his assistant. You two also got married. The three of you; living happily ever after living life together as The Barber’s.

The End. <3

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