The fanfic trope requested was: 'fake relationship'.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of disability, mentions of discrimination (I do not condone any form of discrimination)

You had been working at your cardiologist office peacefully and you had been happy with it, until a casting director had come in for an appointment and had seen you, immediately asking if you had any interest in becoming a a tv star.

You had laughed loudly but you hadn't been able keep your curiosity in check, so you had agreed to join the casting for yet another hospital tv series that was supposed to be the next hot shit on tv.

You had always found hospital series ridiculous, very much unscientific and false and much too focused on the doctors' love lifes, but when they had offered you the role you had taken it, against better judgment.

As soon as you had turned up on set you had immediately regretted it because it was indeed littered with superficial love stories and scientific mistakes, and when fame hit no one seemed to care anymore that you were only human and needed your space, paparazzi following you everywhere.

You couldn't count the headlines you had made when you went out with your dear friend and coworker Bjorn, who played your love interest in the series.

He was a nice guy, and your manager had advised you to find someone to be in a relationship with, for publicity.

When you had told Bjorn he had laughed a lot but he had agreed that your relationship was best left unphased by the search for a partner, when he suddenly grew serious.

You immediately asked what he was thinking and Bjorn grinned mischievously at you.

"I might have the perfect candidate", he had said, and he had been right.

You hadn't expected him to suggest his own brother, but he was your age so you were at least going to try it.

The meeting went well between you, Ivar and your manager, discussing points like the salary he'd earn for being your date and certain rules for his behavior in public, since you set up a fake relationship.

You had thought about dating, even online dating, but as a celebrity it was pretty much impossible, the idiots that asked for your number in the streets were sick bastards, so you decided that paying someone to play your boyfriend would be the only possible way.

Your manager had secretly told you that Ivar was an amazing choice, as the brother of your costar and especially as a person with disability, something that you had asked him to never repeat ever again.

Ivar had osteogenesis imperfecta, tying him to braces for the rest of his life, but you didn't care about any of that.

You had agreed to go out with Ivar because he seemed sincere, but also because he looked down and somehow sad, mirroring your emotional range you had felt at the time perfectly.

You had things in common, that was why you had agreed to fake date him.

Another thing you didn't want to mention but was definitely true was that you were very much attracted to the younger Lothbrok, so you didn't mind people thinking he was your boyfriend.

The people caught on quickly and you were spotted by paparazzi on your very first 'date', creating headlines such as 'scandal: she cheats on her boyfriend with his brother' and more that you didn't even bother to check.

The people were happy you had found a significant other though, and you earned more publicity which made your manager happy.

Over the dates and events you got to know Ivar more and more.

He was an amazing character, when he opened up and told you more about him you were immediately fascinated.

He also was a great listener and he took everything very seriously, just like you.

It didn't take you long to develop feelings for him, but you knew that you merely had a friendly work relationship, he got paid for acting as your boyfriend, if you would tell him you liked him you would most definitely ruin things.

You saw the way he was often looking at you, lovingly or sometimes even looking at you hungrily, but you told yourself that it was simply for the eyes of the public.

It couldn't be that Ivar was attracted to you, he was paid for pretending to be so.

Nevertheless the both of you met up more and more often, just because you could.

Ivar even started watching the interviews you gave on tv, sometimes even live in a back room when he decided to accompany you to one of your events.

You didn't particularly enjoy talking about yourself and your private life with strangers, but you tried your best to be kind and respecting.

Sometimes it was hard though, because a few interviewers didn't care to be respectful themselves.

Once more the interchangeable fake blondie in front of you decided to ask questions that did not concern her in any way.

"You've got a boyfriend now, right?", she said with a suggestive grin that made you want to punch our her perfect bleached teeth, instead you nodded.

"How did you two meet?", she asked and you told your story of how Ivar had come to set once and Bjorn had introduced you two, a half truth that had been drilled into your brain as answer to exactly that question.

The interviewer nodded, bobbing her head up and down in a way a child from kindergarten would too, she probably wasn't much brighter than one either.

"You're so noble to have him as your boyfriend!", the blonde exclaimed and your face froze into a frown as you looked at her almost angrily.

"Why's that?", you asked bluntly, hearing a single gasp from where the spectators were sitting, but you had your eyes trained on the interviewer.

"Well, I mean, since he's, you know", she stuttered helplessly, and you felt anger rise inside of you.

"You mean because he's got osteogenesis imperfecta", you suggested and she nodded, smiling thankfully at you, but you didn't return it.

"Oh, so because he's disabled it's suddenly 'noble' of me to be with him?", you said venomously, and you could see the interviewer gulp.

The studio was dead silent before you continued to talk.

"He's an amazing person and every day I remember how lucky I am to have him", you said it into the camera but as soon as you said it you realized that it was indeed the truth.

"I'm sorry but I think people would have to be incredibly noble to be with such a dimwitted and shallow-minded person as you", you shot back and the interviewer gawked at you as you stood up.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this", you said to the filming crew as you marched out of the room and to where you knew Ivar would be.

You were radiating anger when you reached him, and he stretched one hand out to touch your shoulder, holding himself up with his other hand on his crutch.

"Hey, it's okay", he told you but you shook your head, walking outside of the building with him following closely behind.

As soon as you got outside you whirled around to face him, shaking your head.

"No, it's not alright. It's not okay. They don't have any right to discriminate you the way they do", you argued and Ivar nodded.

"Yeah, but they do", he answered and accompanied you on your drive home.

You asked him to come inside when you reached your apartment and he nodded.

You were seated on the couch in your livingroom with a glass of wine in hand when Ivar talked again.

"Thank you, for earlier", he said softly as he watched you, his eyes studying your face like an open book.

"Even that last part was just pretend, thank you", he added and you shook.

"Don't thank me", you answered him and took a small breath, "and it wasn't", you added.

You could see how Ivar was looking at you, he was thinking about something until he decided to say what he had thought of.

"It's funny, if we weren't dating I'd probably ask you out now", he tried to make a joke but you could see how serious and nervous he was about your reaction.

You smiled shily before you took a big gulp of your wine.

"I'd probably say yes", you answered and Ivar nodded, averting his eyes before he looked back at you.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend? For real?", he asked you and you nodded.