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snowstark · 3 years ago

Text

Growing Wings.

READ ON AO3 For @starkerfestivals | Fill: Mafia AU “Don’t fucking touch me,” Tony snarls, grabbing Peter’s wrists to rip them off of him. “Then don’t fucking talk,” Peter spits back. Tony growls and shoves him back, but Peter just pushes right up against him again, getting in his space. He can feel his warm breath on his face as he snarls, “You think I wanna hear your fucking voice after you left like that? Tell me why I shouldn’t just punch your lights out right now." And ouch, that kind of hurts. Tony shoves him off, jeering, “Well, you wouldn’t want to break my nose, sweetheart, we both know how much you love my pretty face.” “Yeah, enough to want to spit on it, maybe.” S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t the worst place to work. Tony’s been there for a while now, and he gets along just fine. Then, he gets sent back to a world that he thought he’d never return to. I have now achieved a blackout, yay! Thank you to @vaguekiwi for beta'ing!

The barstools are mahogany. They blend into the red-brown wood of the bar, illuminated by the glow of lights behind the bottles. The people blend in, too—clinking glasses and flashing scars as subtle hands exchange wads of bills and tight packets of pot, mingling amidst the sharp smell of whiskey and beer between them; leather jackets that conceal switchblades and guns, hung on large shoulders and frames like bedsheets on a king-sized bed. It all paints a cohesive picture, barely anything out of place.

Except for the boy sitting at the edge of the bar. The Parker heir.

He barely looks legal. Pink cheeks, scruffy brown hair, and pretty pink lips sipping at his daiquiri. There’s a fat golden ring on his index finger. He’s dressed to fit in, but with his youthful face and frilly drink, he looks more like he’s wearing daddy’s clothes than anything.

Tony wants to ruin him.

He wants to grab him by the scruff and drag him down from the throne he’ll be stepping up to and pull him into a kiss, wants to feel the heat of his breath on his neck, wants to… buy him a drink.

“That one’s on me.” Tony pulls a chair out to sit next to the boy, and opens his mouth to order a beer when— no. “Sex on the beach,” he tells the bartender, and gets a weird look from the both of them, accompanied by a smirk lacing the boy’s lips. Otherwise, silence. He waits for his drink to be fixed before taking a sip from it, swirling the liquid in the glass loftily before saying, “Want a taste?”

“Not unless it’s from your mouth.” Parker’s voice is pretty. It reminds Tony of a mockingbird’s song, a sound of nature itself, with each word spilling from his mouth a pretty melody.

Tony lifts his eyebrows. “What, you don’t want a pretty babe to take home?”

The Parker boy pointedly takes a sip from his daiquiri.

Tony feels his lips curve into a smile. Okay. He gets it. He’s pretty sure he sees the other’s eyes crinkle a bit too at the corners. “Tony,” he finally says.

“Peter.”

As if he doesn’t know.

“Pretty name for a pretty boy. You got someone to take care of you, treat you like you’re a diamond?”

“I am a diamond.” Peter tips his head back to take the rest of his daiquiri into his mouth in one large gulp. “And I can find someone to come and make me shine whenever I want.”

“Lucky guy, finding a gem in all this dirt.” Tony keeps his attention on the ice cubes clinking in his glass. “Makes me wonder if that’s what you come here for.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Peter set his empty glass down. He swipes the tip of his index finger along the rim of the glass, then pops it between his lips to suck on it before turning to face Tony, leaning in. He lets his hands rest gingerly on Tony’s shoulder, just barely gripping as he breathes into his ear, “Why don’t we take this home, Tony?”

Tony likes the way he says his name.

He thinks he’ll like it even more when Peter’s moaning it.

He lifts his gaze to meet Peter’s. Peter doesn’t budge, only pulling back the slightest bit, nose a few inches away from Tony’s. Tony watches his eyelashes flutter with each blink. It’s like a swan taking flight, feathers fluttering in the air and daring Tony to reach up to snag one for himself—a keepsake, or a trophy.

His lips quirk up when Peter gives him a look, clearly saying, well? Tony licks the lingering taste of his drink away from his lips so he can replace it with Peter. “Think your father’ll approve?”

Tony knows he won’t. Peter knows that too.

Peter smiles. “We’ll just have to keep quiet, won’t we?” His hands slide down to fist the front of Tony’s shirt and pull him out of his seat by it.

Tony barely remembers to toss a wad of bills onto the counter before he’s guided out of the bar.

-- -- --

Tony’s in the process of sticking a piece of gum underneath the briefing table when the meeting finally ends. Fury talked for a painfully long time today. Tony’s pretty sure he even saw Rogers’ eyes close a few times, and everyone knows that if Rogers is dozing, the situation’s bad.

His left foot’s fallen asleep. He stomps it subtly a few times before getting up from his seat. The room’s clearing out now, agents talking to each other and chuckling as they shuffle through the doorway. Tony stops by the door, letting Rumlow pass through before turning to Fury, who’s now digging through a box of donuts.

“You know,” Tony says when Fury doesn’t acknowledge him, “might be good for team morale if you actually share your snacks with everyone. Oh, and you know what? We really gotta work on these outfit designs. I mean, how do you expect us to get the job done when half of us are fighting a wedgie?”

Fury’s quiet for a few moments, but it doesn’t faze Tony. Fury’s either astronomically loud or terrifyingly quiet; there’s no in between.

Finally, he speaks. “Found the meeting boring, Stark?” Fury’s eye flicks up to him as he takes a monstrous bite from the donut. It sends sprinkles raining down onto the table and floor for some poor janitor to take care of later.

“Always is, Sir,” Tony replies.

“I’ll always wonder why I let someone with the attention span of a goldfish sign up.”

“Maybe because this goldfish has brought the most innovative ideas you’ve seen in the past three decades.” Tony reaches to snag a donut from the box, but Fury slaps his hand away. It hurts.

“You know, I caught wind of something new today. Toomes.”

Tony blinks. “We don’t deal with people like him.”

He doesn’t deal with people like him. Not anymore.

Fury carries on like he hasn’t even spoken. “Word has it that the Toomes are deep in debt with the Parker family. The Parkers want to collect; you think Toomes is just gonna hand over a small fortune that easily?”

Tony feels his heart leap into his throat at the words.

Parker. Parker. Parker. He repeats the name over and over in his head, and realizes that he’s been silent for a second too long. Fury’s looking at him with a raised eyebrow as he takes a fierce bite from his donut.

“Probably not,” he manages, sounding as dumb as he feels.

Fury sucks sugar off of one of his fingers. “It’s allegedly reported that Toomes’ men are going in to get rid of their debt through unconventional means.”

“They’re not paying them off.”

Fury snorts. “Hell, no. They’re going in to get rid of the Parkers. Which includes our little asset, Rumlow. Member of the Parker family since before the boy even became kingpin, he’s been… interested in testifying against the family if it means he gets a lesser sentence to bite him in the ass later. He’s the weak link in the family, and we need him alive.” He dusts his hands off. “Barnes has already volunteered to infiltrate the Parkers at the higher levels, but we need more people to go in, hang around at their front and get them talking.”

“Best of luck to them.” Tony swallows and looks away furtively.

Fury makes a disgruntled noise in his throat. “Rogers will step in if no one else wants the gig—seems eager to, actually—but really, Stark, I’m bringing this up because I thought you might be interested.”

“Me,” Tony repeats, fighting back the urge to swallow. His mind jumps to skin on skin, fingers lacing together amongst soft silky bed sheets.

“Sure.” Fury shrugs. “You think fast on your feet, and you know how to get out of sticky situations if anything goes south. You know it’s not every day that I offer an agent a job like this—it’s your chance to prove yourself, Stark.”

Tony sucks the inside of his cheek.

“We only need someone to watch Barnes’ back, sit around the area and report back if there’s an issue. It should be easy for someone like you, just mingling with the associates of the family, indulging in their favourite hobbies, bonding, you know how it goes.”

Does he?

“I…” Tony trails off. His eyes flick down to the box of donuts, lingering there for a few moments. Fury actually nudges it open for him, like it’s positive reinforcement for considering the gig. “Can I tell you my decision tomorrow?”

Fury grunts.

Tony takes that as a ‘yes’ and hurries out before Fury can say anything else.

-- -- --

It still smells the same, Tony realizes. Leather and alcohol accompanied by raucous laughter and cigarettes and money. It feels the same, too. The barstools haven’t changed, except the leather is cracked now. He runs his fingers over it. It’s like a scar, if someone ripped off a wing and let the flesh mould over with new skin.

He orders himself a drink. The bartender makes quick work of it and Tony gives her a nod of thanks before taking it from her. At least it’s not the same bartender.

It only takes him a few minutes to empty the glass. He signals for another, then turns ever so slightly to side-eye the big hunk of meat next to him. It’s not a face that he recognizes, and he’s not sure if he’s more disappointed or relieved by that fact.

Probably relieved.

“Long day?” he sighs, knowing as soon as the words come out of his mouth that it’s a stupid thing to say. It sounds green, sounds like two suburban dads at the bar of a family restaurant.

Tony gets completely ignored for his trouble. Okay, fair enough. He’s gotten rusty—which is good, he reminds himself.

He needs another drink.

He downs it in a few big swallows, which catches the attention of a couple people in the bar. He gulps past the burn and it means his voice rasps a bit when he tries again. “I had a run last night up on 116th, got jumped by like, ten guys.” He hesitates before adding, “I think they were with Toomes or something.”

He gets a few more eyes, and some heads tilting in his direction. Okay, interest. No engagement yet, but that’s okay.

Tony’s grip tightens around the glass in his hand and he plunges ahead. “Heard they’re gonna take a run at us about their debt to—” don’t say his name, he could at least pretend that wasn’t real right now “—to the boss. Think your head’ll be one of the ones they cut off?”

That gets the big guy to turn to him, a scowl on his face. “Toomes would be lucky to snip even one lock of my hair,” he growls. And, admittedly, the man has great hair.

“Hey, new guy!” Five others have swivelled in their seats, and one has his eyes fixed on Tony. “Toomes really planning something against the family?”

Tony smirks triumphantly and motions toward the bartender. “I’ll tell you all about it, friends. Drinks are on me.”

-- -- --

Peter lets out a soft yelp as Tony practically tackles him onto the bed, dragging him into a kiss. Peter’s fingers fumble as he yanks off his jacket and shirt, moaning against his lips, and Tony helps him out of them. He hears the sound of Peter’s pants dropping to the floor and his lips part in anticipation. It’s exhilarating to take apart Peter’s exterior piece by piece to reveal what’s inside, to take it for himself and ravish it.

“That hurts, you asshole,” Peter laughs as Tony nips from his jaw to his collarbone. Tony ignores him, just sucking a mark onto the pale expanse of skin right above his collarbone, and then twisting to kiss Peter.

Peter gasps into the kiss, and Tony swallows his noises up hungrily like his life depends on it. Peter gives a small whine and pushes him. Tony falls back onto the bed with a confused noise, propping himself up on his elbow. “What?” he pants. “You don’t— is something wrong?”

“No, ‘s just—” Peter licks his lips, cheeks flushed bashfully now. “You still have your shirt on.”

“Huh?” Tony looks down and feels a small smile tugging at his lips at the realization that Peter’s right. “Oh.” He swipes his hair back with a hand, flustered, and Peter bursts into laughter.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” Peter tells him teasingly, already reaching forward. He makes quick work of Tony’s clothes with clumsy, eager fingers, yanking and tugging at buttons and zippers before copying Tony’s actions from earlier, dusting a few kisses onto his jaw. Tony tips his head back, eyes fluttering shut again, settling back into that warm, fuzzy place in his head where everything he can feel and see and smell and taste is Peter.

Peter’s touches are more hesitant than his, less experienced, maybe. It makes him wonder if Peter’s ever really done more than make out with someone, or if he’s ever even been in bed with another guy.

His suspicions are confirmed when Peter pulls back the slightest bit and whispers, “Is this okay?” as he lets a hand slip down, eyes flicking up to his face uncertainly.

He’s younger than Tony; they’re both young, but Tony likes the idea of teaching Peter from scratch, moulding him from untouched putty to a sinning angel, claiming what’s his. He gives a small smile through half-lidded eyes. “Yeah,” he breathes, “you’re more than okay.”

It’s like the words settle the apprehension in Peter, because he relaxes, tense shoulders dropping in what’s probably relief. Tony doesn’t like the idea of Peter worrying when he’s supposed to be enjoying, so he just grabs him and flips him over, eliciting a surprised, “Oof!” from him. He grinds down on Peter, watching delightedly as Peter lets out an obscene moan, and he clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Thought you said we gotta stay quiet,” he whispers.

Peter licks the palm of his hand to coax it off of him. “We are quiet.”

“Not you,” Tony teases.

Peter scowls. “Fuck off.”

Tony kisses the pouty look off of his face. It slides away easily once his lips are slotted against Peter’s, wet and sloppy.

And then Peter surges up in a bout of energy, and Tony falls back with a surprised noise. “I wanna,” Peter pants as he dusts kisses on Tony’s neck, nuzzling and nipping, “I wanna— I want you to make me—”

Peter steals his breath from him with each kiss until his chest is tight and Tony has to push him away the slightest bit to gasp, “Your father— last chance to—”

Neither of them give a shit about Peter’s father. It’s foreplay at best, now. The thrill of getting caught, the feeling of ecstasy as they touch what’s forbidden, snagging an apple from the garden, it only urges them on like fuel added to fire.

“Still in the family, aren’t you?” Peter plays along, hands sliding down to Tony’s hips. “Least you’re not a fed.”

Tony barks out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah,” he agrees breathlessly. “Least ‘m not a fed.”

And then he takes Peter for himself, drinking in every little noise he makes as hunger ravishes his body, basking in the dove’s pretty noises.

-- -- --

“Another one!”

They all burst into laughter as the big blond guy—Thor, apparently—smashes his glass on the floor of the bar. The bartender rolls her eyes. Broken kitchenware isn’t a scarcity with Thor around here.

Tony’s not drunk. He’s spilled a couple of drinks instead of downing them, and he’s been sneaking refills of water instead of alcohol when he can. And, he can hold his liquor well. He’s not willing to risk his job to indulge himself.

He has, however, gotten the others to drink their fair share. They’re red-faced and all they can do is roar with laughter. It reminds him of how he used to do this too, come into the bar and share a drink or two before rushing off to press his lips to fair skin as hands push through his hair. For a split second, he feels a pang of longing in his chest.

He instantly forgets about it when Thor claps him on the chest. “Our— Our heads!” he booms, then snorts. “Toomes better watch out; we could step on ‘im even like this, crush his puny skull with our boots.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” another guy snorts, elbowing Thor in the side. “Don’t you ‘member what happened last time? Parker had a nosebleed for days.”

The words make Tony jerk in his seat before he even realizes it, and then he turns back around. “Yeah, yeah, Rumlow better watch out, heard he’s a popular target,” he chuckles in an effort to regain his composure, lifting his hand to signal for another drink.

“Rumlow?” An unfamiliar voice sounds and they all turn around.

It’s another face that Tony doesn’t recognize, and it makes him realize once again just how long it’s actually been since he was last here. He takes a quiet sip from his drink, and the guy narrows his eyes at Tony.

Maybe he’s been here too long. He wants to check his watch, but he refrains.

“Rumlow ain’t here,” the guy says. He doesn’t budge, preventing Tony from sliding out of his seat. “Boss sent him to Siberia two days ago. I would know, ‘m his partner.”

One of the guys snorts. “You sure, Rollins? Last I heard, you two went through a little break-up. Did he dump you, or was it the other way around, big guy?”

There’s a loud cracking noise, and the guy falls off his seat, clutching a bloody nose. “Jesus fuck!”

They have the attention of the whole bar now, and yep, this has officially gone downhill. Like, to the depths of the earth, to the underworld where Hades resides type of bad. Tony can feel the palms of his hands getting sweaty.

Rollins gives Tony a lingering look. “What did you say your name was?”

Fuck. And that’s his cue to leave.

He tosses a wad of bills onto the counter, then says, “I gotta get home.”

“He didn’t say his name.” It’s Thor now, staring at Tony with wide, suspicious eyes now.

Tony would rather not get into a fight with Thor, or any of the guys here, really. They’re all massive.

He needs to get the fuck out of here and go straight to Fury to ask him what the hell is going on, because what does Rolllins mean Rumlow is in fucking Siberia?

“You need to see the boss,” Rollins says, and that’s the only warning Tony gets before the front of his shirt is roughly snatched in a massive paw.

“Whoa, whoa, big guy, I’m sorry—my name’s Anthony Howard; didn’t mean anything by it; just heard stuff about Toomes. Look, I really do gotta get home—”

And then Rollins yanks, making him trip forwards, and then there are hands gripping his shoulders and his wrists are being yanked behind his back like he’s getting arrested. He’s dragged off, and he prays that whoever the boss is, it’s not him.

But he knows that it is, and there’s no way he can avoid it now.

-- -- --

Tony’s there when Peter’s father is gutted like a fish.

He wraps his arms around the boy, letting him scream and cry until he’s exhausted, throat raw and scratchy from how hard he’s worked it. His cries sound more like the shrieks of a crow by the end of it, and Tony runs a hand down his spine in an effort to soothe him.

“You’re okay,” he says, voice low, and Peter shudders and shakes his head in a small, jerky movement. He doesn’t believe it yet, but Tony knows he will be.

He doesn’t stop to wonder whether they’ll be alright.

He’s there when Peter steps up.

He’s there when Peter rules like the king he was meant to be.

He’s there when Peter ruthlessly rips off the wings of the mockingbird inside himself to lock them up in a cage and leave them to rot. He’s there when Peter transforms into an eagle, a bird of prey; he’s there when Peter stops singing.

Until one night, he’s not there. He’s slipping out of the compound, silent as a field mouse running away from an eagle under the gaze of the silver moonlight.

And he’s not there when Peter wakes up.

-- -- --

At first glance, Tony thinks Peter looks the same. But then he takes a second look, and he sees that he’s grown a bit taller, his face isn’t as youthful, and he has a small, healed scar on his cheekbone, just a faint white line. Most people wouldn’t even notice it, but it catches Tony’s attention right away, and he hates himself for it, hates that he has the memory of Peter’s face etched into his brain.

Peter’s men don’t even get a chance to say anything, because the moment Peter’s eyes land on Tony’s face, his lip curls up and he barks, “Out!”

They fumble for a moment, like they’re not sure whether they should be dragging Tony out of the room too, but when Peter’s scowl grows, they scuttle out with their tails tucked between their legs. Tony sneers at their backs.

Peter strides forward and Tony clenches his jaw in preparation for what he knows is coming.

The moment the door slams shut, Peter flies into action. He grabs the front of Tony’s shirt and shoves him against the wall.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Tony snarls, grabbing Peter’s wrists to rip them off of him.

“Then don’t fucking talk,” Peter spits back.

Tony growls and shoves him back, but Peter just pushes right up against him again, getting in his space. He can feel his warm breath on his face as he snarls, “You think I wanna hear your fucking voice after you left like that? Tell me why I shouldn’t just punch your lights out right now.”

And ouch, that kind of hurts. Tony shoves him off, jeering, “Well, you wouldn’t want to break my nose, sweetheart, we both know how much you love my pretty face.”

“Yeah, enough to want to spit on it, maybe.”

“You sure you don’t want me to be doing that to you? Wouldn’t get off on it, wouldn’t blow a load the moment I touch you? Happened way too much in the past, didn’t it? Don’t wanna relive those memories, honey? And this scar—” Tony reaches out, not even flinching when Peter tries to slap him away “—what happened here, huh? Fell off the swingset when Daddy wasn’t here to watch you?”

Peter pulls a face of disgust at his words, and Tony almost barks out a laugh, which would’ve incensed him more. It almost makes him wish he had; he knows how much Peter hates when he calls himself daddy. Almost as much as he hates being called kid.

Tony presses his thumb onto the scar when he gets no response, and Peter smacks his hand down to snap, “Just the result of the last guy who walked out on us. He came out a lot worse than me; should’ve done the same to you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tony lifts his eyebrow tauntingly. “Then why didn’t you, huh? Did I wear you out too much, princess? Didn’t have it in you for round two? Should’ve known; pretty little thing like you wouldn’t have been able to handle it anyway—”

Tony falls back with a grunt when Peter tackles him, hands flying up to wrench him off. Except now he feels lips roughly mouthing at his neck. And then Peter snarls, “Get yourself out of these fucking clothes, I fucking hate you, always making shit harder.”

“Then ask nicely, kid,” Tony bites back. Peter’s head jerks at the pet name, nostrils flaring, and Tony triumphantly shoves him off enough to yank off his own shirt. He stumbles with how hard he pulls, and then there are hands that are tugging too, helping him out of it, and he grunts, “No fuckin’ patience at all, should’ve known you’d be begging to gag on my dick before you even—”

“Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up.” Peter throws the shirt behind himself before throwing himself at Tony again.

His nails bite harshly into Tony’s skin, making him hiss between clenched teeth. “Put those damn claws away, Christ.” He shoves Peter back again and they stumble together against the wall, then fumble for another moment as Peter wrestles out of his own shirt.

The moment the shirt drops to the floor, discarded like a feather floating to the ground, Tony grabs Peter’s shoulders and manhandles him over to his desk. He manages to get him bent over it despite the kicking and thrashing that Peter puts up, but Tony knows Peter, knows that he isn’t fighting as hard as he can, knows that he wants Tony to wrestle with him. There’s also no denying the fact that despite the years that have passed and hardened them both, Tony’s still larger and stronger than Peter, and Peter loves it. Tony can see it in his eyes; he’s practically feral every time he rests his eyes on Tony.

“Remember the last time we did this?” Tony laughs roughly, pressing flush against him as he bends over, caging him in with his arms. Peter snarls and jerks his head back, but Tony easily avoids it. He pinches the back of his neck harshly in reprimand and Peter chokes, straining against him. Tony lets him gasp and heave for a moment before licking a hot, wet stripe from his neck to his ear. “You think you can scream as loudly as you did then for me right now, sweetheart?”

“Over my dead body,” Peter gasps.

“Not the biggest turn-on.” In a lightning-fast movement, Tony rips Peter’s pants off. The button goes flying and Peter hisses.

“That was expensive, you asshole!”

Tony opens his mouth to snap back, but then his breath catches in his throat at the sight of the red lace. Peter’s face has gone a shade that’s equally as bright and he snarls in Tony’s grasp.

“Ohhh,” Tony says, beginning to laugh, and it sounds mean, which only serves to aggravate Peter even more. “This is why you were fighting so hard, huh? Little prissy Parker, wearing fuckin’ panties like you have someone to strut for?”

“Shut. Up,” Peter grits out.

Tony grins, feeling a sadistic little ball of heat furling in his gut, and he leans in to breathe, “Make me,” before cracking a hand down on his ass. The sound is loud, ringing throughout the whole room, and Peter keens. He’s pushing back against Tony like he can’t help himself now, spine curving nicely in a way that makes Tony want to kiss every inch of his body.

Tony slots his hips against his ass, grinding down and letting out a low growl in his throat. “That’s right. That’s fuckin’ right. Can’t make me, can you? Bet’chu wanted this so badly, can never help yourself, can you? C’mon, little mockingbird, admit it—it doesn’t feel as good when you’re on your own, I get it, I—”

He does get it. He’s forgotten how good they are together, and years apart only riles him up further, gets him wanting more, more, more. He knows Peter feels the same, and now, he wants to hear him say it.

“Tell me you want this,” he growls, and Peter jerks in his grasp. “Tell me,” he repeats, cracking a hand down on his ass, “you want this.”

“Fuck off,” Peter grits, but Tony can hear it, the desperation and arousal in his voice.

“Tell me you want it, let me fucking hear it.” He brings his hand down in earnest, making Peter gasp. His ass turns a dusty pink as he jerks and whines in his grip. Tony can see his cock growing harder by the minute, encased by lace. “C’mon, lemme hear it, what’s the matter, kid? Cat got your tongue? No point in hiding, you know, we know you want it, probably been waiting for this moment for years now. Bet you put fuckin’ panties on every day hoping I’d see them.”

He punctuates his words with smacks, hand cracking loudly and ringing through the room, and Tony bites out, “C’mon, sweetheart, you being shy ‘cause you don’t want me to fuck you? Or are you still thinking about that time I nearly let you fuck me? That was a fucking mistake, wasn’t it? You got a hungry fuckin’ hole, you think your dick would’ve lasted more than a minute in my—”

“I want it!” Peter finally gasps, tears in his eyes. “I want it, I want it, I want you to fuck me, I want your hands on me, I want you to fucking take me, take me, fuck me—”

“Fuck!” Tony sees red. He fumbles with the zipper of his pants, yanking it down as fast as he can.

“Jerk,” Peter pants. “You’re a fucking asshole, bastard, selfish piece of shit, cock-sucking fed—mmph!” He chokes when Tony slaps a hand over his mouth.

“The mouth on you, kid, Christ!” Tony pulls back, then tears off his panties with his hands. Peter jerks from his position, rearing up again, but Tony puts a stop to whatever he’s about to do by shoving him back down with a grip on his neck. He roughly makes Peter turn his head, then mocks, “If you can’t learn to say nice things, then you shouldn’t say anything at all.”

Peter doesn’t fight him—as much as he expected him to, at least—when he balls the panties up in his hand and stuffs them into his mouth. Tony laughs when Peter’s face flushes, and he taunts, “Can’t even spit and snarl like you want to anymore, can you?” Peter jerks in his grasp again, and Tony bites his shoulder in reprimand. “‘s okay,” he says against his skin, grinning, “I gotcha.”

He brings his hand down on his ass again, admiring how pink it turns, and then starts roughly opening the drawers of his desk. His other hand is gripping Peter’s wrists behind his back, pinning him down. Peter’s breathing is raw and heavy in his throat even with the garment in his mouth, but there’s no denying how hard his dick is, and nothing delights Tony more than that.

“Lube,” he mutters impatiently under his breath, digging through the drawers. “Don’t tell me you don’t have fucking lube.”

Peter makes an indignant noise that Tony disregards.

When he finds it tucked under a stack of envelopes, he rips the small packet open. He presses his lubed fingers to Peter’s hole, and Peter jerks, then pushes back against him.

“Fuckin’ hungry for it, aren’t you?” Tony mutters as he works a finger in. “You know what hasn’t changed? How tight your fucking hole is.”

Peter moans behind the panties in his mouth, thighs shaking as Tony works him open. He’s not rough, but he’s not gentle either—just the way Peter likes it.

Tony’s pumping three fingers in and out of his hole by the time Peter makes a muffled noise. It sounds suspiciously like, “Hurry up,” but he can’t know for sure, and he doesn’t care to know either—Peter would kill him if he stopped to ask. So he just pinches Peter’s cheek, making him groan, before straightening.

He spits in his hand and brings it down to his cock, pumping it a few times. Peter twists to look at him, eyes blown and heavy, and Tony smirks. “Cock-drunk little thing,” he drawls, seeing the spark that ignites in Peter’s eyes at his words.

Tony squeezes Peter’s hip as he presses the head of his cock to his hole. It slips in easily, rim fluttering around him, and Tony hisses out a small, “Shit,” before pushing in slowly.

Peter gives a muffled moan, just taking it, and Tony pants, “Good boy,” before he lets his hips roll.

It’s slow at first, but then they pick up the pace once Peter starts making little noises in his throat, even pushing back to meet him halfway. It’s heaven to Tony, to feel Peter all around him like this, even more so when he gets to grip his hips and mark him up.

“You know,” Tony pants after a while, fingers digging into Peter’s skin hard enough to bruise, “it’s almost too boring with you so quiet. Maybe I should just—” He reaches out, and takes the panties from his mouth.

Peter’s moans and gasps fill up the room immediately, and Tony gives him a sloppy grin in return for the glare he gets. “There we go. But I don’t want to just carry this, so let’s…” He stuffs the panties into Peter’s hand, then guides them down to his dick. “I want you to wrap your filthy panties around your filthy cock and make a fucking mess of them.”

There’s no hiding how turned on Peter is by that; his eyelashes flutter and his lips part in a silent moan. Tony snaps his hips up, and Peter moans, jumping into action. “I fucking hate you,” he pants, even as he follows Tony’s order.

Tony laughs and gives one of his cheeks another spank. “I know,” he grins, then lets his hips pick up the pace. He digs his nails into one cheek, and Peter moans so loudly that he’s pretty sure the entire fucking room shakes. “Sing any louder than that, ‘n you’re gonna have people comin’ in to see you fuckin’ impaled on my dick, crying like a kid who just found his lost stuffie,” Tony taunts in his ear.

Peter gives a snarl, but there’s no real fight in his body; he just wants Tony and they both know it.

Tony closes his eyes, head lolling back and lips parting as he works his hips fast until he’s pounding Peter’s ass hard enough to jostle his whole body. Peter mewls, fumbling as he jerks himself off, still gripping his panties in a vice-grip, and the mere sight of him nearly tips Tony over the edge.

“So— fucking— filthy—” he gasps, bending over to press as flush as he can against Peter, skin on skin, damp with sweat. He mouths at his neck and shoulders, trying to take every inch of Peter that he can.

“P-Plea— O-Oh, god, fuck, fuck—” Peter whimpers, and the sound goes straight to Tony’s cock.

Tony hisses, “Fuck, ‘m gonna—” before he interrupts himself with a loud groan that rips from his throat, raw and heavy. He lets his hips slow as he rides through the wave of ecstasy that crashes over him, only pulling out once he gets too sensitive.

Peter’s a mewling, sweaty mess over his desk, fingers scrabbling to grip something, anything. Tony slides a hand through his damp hair to pull his head back and places a hand over Peter’s, which is still working feebly over his own cock, and he says roughly, “Lemme help, kid, can’t even do it yourself, can you? Too dumb to even think, shouldn’t have expected so much from you.”

Peter keens at the words, and Tony’s pretty sure he’s drooling on his desk. Tony lets his strokes quicken, the lacy fabric of the panties sliding wetly over the head of his dick, and Peter lets out a breathy moan. “I— I— P-Please—”

“No one’s stopping you, baby, c’mon, lemme see it.” Tony leans in and licks a wet, broad stripe between his cheeks, tasting himself mingled with the taste of Peter, and then Peter’s coming with a loud wail.

He shoots strings of white over their hands and his panties, now completely ruined and sloppy, and he gives up—gives in—entirely to let Tony jack him off through it, coaxing whines and whimpers out of him.

“F-Fuck,” he gasps after a few moments, squirming to get free, and Tony cracks a hand down, keeping him there until he’s begging incoherently, blathering for Tony to fuckstoppleasekeepgoing oh god—

Tony falls back onto the floor, completely exhausted as the weight of what they just did slaps him in the face, and Peter follows suit, collapsing on top of him.

They’re quiet for a few minutes, the sound of their breaths coming in rough gasps. Erratic exhales fill up the space between them, and Tony closes his eyes as Peter turns his head the slightest bit. He starts kissing his way up Tony’s body, from his knee to his hip to his chest and his neck.

When it slows to a stop, Tony lets his head fall to the side and is shocked to find Peter’s eyes damp and glossy. “Baby,” he whispers, feeling himself go cold. He’s only ever seen Peter cry once before. “What’s wrong?”

Peter’s eyes fall shut and he shakes his head. The silence stretches out longer and Tony’s fully convinced that he’s lost his voice when Peter finally speaks. “Stay,” he croaks. He reaches out and finds Tony’s hand, then grips it tightly. “Don’t leave me.”

Not again, are the unspoken words, and Tony knows it.

Tony looks down at him to meet his shiny brown eyes, full of longing and sadness and hatred and anger and happiness and resignation. He reaches out, placing a hand on Peter’s cheek, and Peter shudders and presses into the touch.

“Baby,” he breathes. His mind feels like it’s gone blank, save for the thought of Fury, and Toomes, and S.H.I.E.L.D. He’s an agent. He’s not part of… this, anymore. He can’t be.

A tear trails down Peter’s cheek, dripping onto the crook of his finger, and Peter turns his head to smudge it. But before he can, Tony pulls back, then grips his face with both hands to pull him into a kiss. It’s a clumsy one, full of wet gasps and pained noises, before Peter kisses back, pressing closer and closer until he’s toppled over Tony.

Tony keeps his eyes closed, even when Peter pulls back, lips ghosting over his. Peter falls onto his chest, mouthing desperately at his neck, fingers lacing through his own to squeeze tightly. Tony can feel his wet cheeks pressing against his jaw.

Peter finally pulls away, and Tony opens his eyes. “Stay,” Peter whispers again, and Tony swallows over the lump in his throat. He looks down at his hand, uncurling his fingers, and sees a familiar golden ring resting in his palm. His breath catches in his throat, and he squeezes his hand into a fist tightly, feeling the gold warm up at his touch.

And then he knows he’s made his decision—or maybe there was only ever one right answer.

“Okay,” he says, and Peter falls back onto him, a silent sob wracking his body.

Tony wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly, never wanting to let go—and he doesn’t.

The feeling of holding so Peter closely is accompanied by the decision that he’s going to grow a pair of fucking wings, if only to take both him and Peter elsewhere, away from any place that isn’t just for them.

He should have known he would end up back here. He was always going to end up back home.

-- -- --

“You passed with flying colours, Stark.” Fury doesn’t even look up as he addresses him. He’s too busy making his coffee. Tony thinks he goes out of his way to never look anyone in the eye. “Makes me wonder where you learned all these skills. It’s not every day we get an applicant like you.”

Tony doesn’t say anything. Just lifts his chin.

Fury’s eye flicks up then. It’s just the slightest bit unnerving. It feels like he can see right through him, see everything that he’s been through, see where he’s come from, see the dirt and blood that remains underneath his fingernails no matter how much he scrubs them under the faucet. He wonders if the bitter smell of leather is still stuck to him, coiling through his hair to settle down like a snake in a nest. He wonders if it’ll ever leave him, wonders how many baths and showers it’ll take for him to rub himself raw, clean.

“It’s not an easy task to commit to S.H.I.E.L.D.” Fury takes a sip of his coffee and saunters closer. Tony doesn’t move. “You leave everything behind and give it all to us. S.H.I.E.L.D. can give you what you want, but in return, we demand loyalty.” He’s standing right in front of Tony now. They stay like that for a few moments, before Fury asks softly, “Are you a loyal man, Stark?”

Tony lifts his chin. “Yes.” His voice doesn’t shake, and he holds Fury’s gaze. His fingers curl into fists, and he waits with bated breath.

Finally, Fury holds a hand out, and says, “Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D, agent.”

Tony takes it, grips it tightly, and gives a jerky nod to seal his fate. “Thank you, sir.”

He’s home, and he’s never going back.

Tag list: @sinditia @darker-soft-starker @starkeristheendgame @thegreenmetblue @momodashii @peterrparrkerr @tnpt @blazingparker @carelessannie

#starker #ironspider #sfsummerbingo21 #nff #mafia au #my fics #italics are flashbacks #omg pls i can't believe it's done??#i promised this fic in june so im sure some of u on the tag list have forgotten about this #but i hope you still enjoy if you choose to read it!! <3

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years ago

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How We Met

here it is, my last fic for rowaelin month! thank you so much to everyone that’s read, liked and commented on my fics, it’s been so much fun reading and writing these last four weeks! i’m glad to know that i’m not the only one that is in dire need of more rowaelin content (srsly, i would pay sjm a truck load of money for a strictly rowaelin book bc i miss them sm)

here’s part 4 for the little series i had going on. i was so tempted to make this an angst piece but held back lol.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

cw: none

1.8k words

enjoy and thank you again!!! :) 💕💕💕💕

Gathering the ingredients for the cake that she and Ophelia were going to make for Rowan, Aelin plopped them down on the kitchen counter and tied her and her six year old daughters hair back. Even in the kitchen light, Ophelia's hair was a vivid shade of silver and when she turned to look at her mother, the golden ring in her eyes were just as bright.

“Up, mama!” Ophelia asked, pointing to the step ladder that Olive made for her little sister in her woodshop class at school. Getting it off from atop the fridge, Aelin and Ophelia started their baking session for today. It wasn't often that Aelin baked cakes from scratch but it wasn't every day that her firstborn turned sixteen—not that Aelin could really comprehend that her Olive was sixteen—but Aelin wanted to do this for her, wanted to make something special.

She hoped that it wasn't going to taste as bad as the last cake she baked. Rowan had been sick afterwards and didn't go to work the next day.

That was five years ago, so surely with gaining wisdom as people said when others got older, her baking skills grew too.

“Where did everyone go?” Ophelia asked, her little tongue poking out as she helped Aelin sift the flour.

“To get dinner for tonight. We're having Ollie's favourite.” Which was cuisine from the Southern Continent, there was a restaurant that specialised in the spicy food, and Aelin couldn't wait—she and Rowan often tried to recreate their favourite recipes, but it was never right, so Olive wanted to have the genuine stuff for her birthday and not her parents shoddy attempts.

Not that Aelin could blame her.

They continued making the chocolate cake, Ophelia babbling on about her day at school, when her little one asked, “How did you and papa meet?”

Aelin blinked at the sudden question, but answered it nevertheless. “At the grocery store.”

Ophelia furrowed her brows, and with the way her nose scrunched up, she looked so much like Rowan that it made her heart sing. When Aelin first realised that she was pregnant, she was nervous, they had only been married for seven months and while they spoke about having a child of their own, she didn't think it would happen so quickly—but Rowan's enthusiasm melted away her fears. She would never forget his tears of joy when she showed him the pregnancy test, his beaming smile when they heard her heartbeat for the first time. Aelin would walk through hell, as long as Rowan was by her side, or waiting for her at the end.

It wasn't always perfect, however, they had their ups and downs like every long-term couple, they had moments where it felt like they were walking on tightrope, either because of their own personal issues or marriage issues, or when Egan was fourteen and completely lashed out at Aelin, accusing her of replacing his mother—but she worked with her son, telling him that she had never intended to do that, that Lyria would always be the woman that brought him into the world, and that Aelin was raising him. Her heart broke in two at his pain, but she understood, he grew up with photos and stories of Lyria.

Or when they had the awkward conversation when Olive was eleven and asked why she didn't look like Rowan, and Aelin had explained her story, about Sam being her biological father, but he had given them space for Rowan to raise her instead. That had lead to brooding silences and confusion, but otherwise, Olive still saw Rowan as her dad, but she did ask from time to time about Sam, what he was like and what he was doing (the last update Aelin received from him via email that his wife was pregnant with their second child. Aelin was so happy for him that he was able to have a family, a feat that was made easier since Arobynn had been dead for years by this point) and that she would like to meet him properly one day; Aelin had kept that to herself, not wanting to tell Sam in case Olive changed her mind—Aelin hoped that she wouldn't.

Overall, their life together was what she needed, she went to bed each night loved and fulfilled. It was better than what she might have had with Chaol all those years ago, she was fairly certain that if she had married him, it wouldn't have been a long marriage.

“How did you meet at the food store?” Ophelia asked, her brow still furrowed as she and Aelin stirred the cake batter. It surprisingly smelled good.

“I needed something from a high shelf,” Aelin said, “and I couldn't reach it. Your papa was only a few feet away from me, so I asked him to get it for me.” She might have also subtly ogled him as his shirt exposed his tanned skin, and Aelin had damned near swooned at the sight of his six pack.

“Did you get married at the food store?”

Aelin laughed at the question. “No, we got married at the beach. And then you arrived not long afterwards.” Sometimes they wanted another, but things financially were going so well that they didn't want to jeopardise that by adding another mouth to feed.

“Can you have another wedding?” Ophelia asked, looking at her mum with wide eyes. “So I can go? Please?”

“I'll talk to your daddy about it, but I like the sound of that.” Kissing her daughters forehead, they continued. Just as they were putting the cake in the oven and the icing mix in the fridge, the front door opened and three booming voices infiltrated the house and the mouth watering goodness of food.

Aelin's eyes widened at the amount of food that Rowan piled on the table. It looked like they were feeding a small army and not a family of five.

Ophelia helped her older brother set the table, Egan ruffing her hair as he recounted their little adventure to the restaurant.

As they sat down, Aelin mentioned Ophelia's request. Rowan pretended to mull it over as their daughter pleaded, giving her best puppy dog eyes. It didn't take for Rowan to relent—he really had trouble saying no to her—saying that a second wedding was a great idea.

Ophelia squealed in delight and squealed even more when food was placed in front of her (she was very much like Aelin in that regard).

“How did the conversation of another wedding start?” Rowan asked as they all started eating.

“Phia here wanted to know how we meet.”

Olive snorted. “Yes, the ever romantic story of meeting in the toilet paper aisle.”

“It was not the toilet paper isle!” Aelin protested. “It was the cereal aisle.”

“At least you kids have inherited my manners,” Rowan said, “your mother didn't even ask nicely. She just came over to me and said, 'You're tall, could you get that box for me?'” It had taken him a moment to realise he had been spoken to, too focused on deciding what box of porridge to get when Aelin showed up, wearing a faded band shirt and shorts, pointing to the box of cereal that had far too much sugar to be healthy. He had said 'yes' because it was the nice thing to do, and had stayed behind, talking to her for so long in the aisle that his vanilla ice cream had started to melt.

It was the best decision in his life back then, he never thought he would have gained a friend in the grocery store—and that the friend would become his wife.

“I have manners. I said, 'Excuse you' first before I told you what I needed.”

“That's not really using manners there, ma,” Egan said, smiling as poked her tongue out. He looked so much like Lyria that it was almost scary—he still loved flowers and plants too, and was currently studying to become a florist and then one day horticulture. The backyard was full of flowers and plants thanks to him, making into a little wonderland instead of the barren plain it used to be.

“I did say 'thank you' afterwards.”

“You said 'thanks',” Rowan interjected, laughing as Aelin threw a chunk of her flatbread at his head. Ophelia's cute laughter rent through the air.

“It's the same thing!”

“If you say so, love,” Rowan muttered, his lips twitching. Aelin rolled her eyes in the dramatic way Rowan was used to, but he saw the mirth behind the movement.

“Like I said Phie, it's very romantic,” Olive said drily, sounding very much like Rowan. She had even inherited his scowl, which she was wearing now as she sniffed at the air. “Is something burning?”

Aelin had never run so fast as she did right then, the kitchen filling with smoke as she took in the blackened cake. Swearing viciously under her breath, Aelin chucked the cake into the bin, apologising to Olive as she did so.

“It's okay, mum, dad got me an ice-cream cake earlier today anyway.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at her husband, who simply gave her an innocent smile in answer.

Rejoining her family, they talked well into the night, helping Aelin to forget her failed baking attempt. Ophelia asked more questions about their time in the grocery store and how that moment lead to friendship, to pining for the other without realising it, to a life together.

And to think, Aelin almost didn't go to the grocery store that day.

Rowan thanked the gods that he had remembered at the last moment that he had no porridge left, otherwise, he might not have met Aelin at all. Might not have had this life, this family. Part of him would always be sad that things had gone so wrong with Lyria, and he would always miss and love her. But he learned in therapy that it was good to have a life, and Rowan was glad that he heeded that advice.

He thanked the gods all the time.

And thank the rutting gods he did right now for the umpteenth time that Aelin deemed him tall enough to get her food for her, to stay in that aisle with him as they got to know each other.

Rowan was a very happy man indeed as he and Aelin went to bed that night, the smiles still on their faces at Olive's unrestrained joy at the sight of the car they spent weeks looking at second-hand dealerships at, hunting for the perfect car for their daughter.

Thank the rutting gods for all those moments in the past, present, and future.

Rowan couldn't wait to marry her again, and neither could Aelin.

Life was good.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work #thank u!!

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its-deputy-caleb · 4 years ago

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Micah Bell - Partners in Crime and in Love Pt.2

hell yeahhhh the part 2 i’ve been dying to write. this is more angsty than i thought i’d be but there’s fluff and a smut scene (with a fem reader) so a warning that this contains adult content.

part one is here otherwise this makes no sense

side note: i don’t know how to write anything remotely sexual so i’m sorry it’s bad and poorly written ima just 🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️

—————————————————————————

The shock of what had happened at the bank still hadn’t settled with you the next morning after Charles had returned. Apart of you kept thinking that Micah would stroll through the front gates of Shady Belle or come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist with a coffee in hand like he does every morning. But that didn’t happen. He was really gone, what’s worse is you didn’t know how bad gone was. Was Micah stuck on some ship? Did he get captured by the Pinkertons? Or was he dead? Charles said he never actually saw them make it to the ship, only parted with them at the docks.

Fuck. The unknown was the worst part. His death you could handle (that’s a lie you’ll keep telling yourself) but not knowing whether he was okay was tormenting.

The gang, or what was left of them was in shambles ever since the bank. When Charles returned and delivered the news that young Lenny didn’t make it, everyone was left feeling heavy with despair and grief. Despite his rather sour relationship with Micah, you had a soft spot for him and more often than not took him under your wing to show him the ropes robbing coaches and being an experienced outlaw. Needless to say the gang won’t be what it was without him, but you did your best to not let it unsettle you too much.

That night while sitting by the campfire, your mind drifts to the night of the Mayor’s party. Originally, you were due to go with Micah as the latest young couple of the oiling industry and were looking to ingratiate yourselves with potential new investors. That all went out the door when Micah got himself into a bar fight over the last bottle of whiskey and there was no way Dutch was going to allow him to the party looking like some scruffy outlaw. You were both slightly upset that you didn’t get to go so instead you put on Dutch’s gramophone (he won’t miss it for one night) and slow danced together on the balcony.

His hand was placed gently on the small of your back, his other holding yours out to the side as you swayed together to the music. It was a pitiful attempt at dancing, lacking any of the real technique or proper movements but it was perfect for a couple o outlaws like yourselves. Your head was resting on his chest, taking in a deep breath and letting yourself completely relax into his embrace. It was one of the few times that you could forget about being an outlaw, about being on the run. That soft peaceful moment with your head tucked under Micah’s chin is the closest thing you’ll ever get to a redemption, and to you, that was all you could want…

You stayed by the campfire for the remaining hours of the night, replaying over and over the scene at the bank, thinking of everything that you could have done right. That night you let the guilt claw at your mind until the sun emerged from the horizon and Miss Grimshaw started ordering everyone to begin packing up the camp.

“Chin up now! I don’t need anyone slacking while we’re short of hands, help pack up the last of the boxes.”

Nodding defeatedly at Susan’s demand, you made your way over to the last remaining stack of crates carrying ammunition. Any other day you probably would have argued with her if only to cause some mischief but today you simply did not have it in you. Your body was exhausted and struggled to carry the weight of the crate until Charles came over and took the other side.

“Thank you, Charles.”

In return, Charles gave you an affirming nod, the two of you working together to help move the remaining supplies. When the final box was moved and secured, he placed a comforting hand was placed on your shoulder.

“They’re going to be fine, if they survived Blackwater then this surely won’t. Besides they have Dutch leading em the whole way.”

Charles has always been a friend to you, been there for you during the worst of it and certainly didn’t judge you for who you were. It was the same for him and the two of you would often go out hunting to get away and relax from the stress of the gang.

“He’ll be fine…”

Charles didn’t need to name him to know you were primarily concerned about one more so than the rest and while Charles certainly did not like Micah, he was a friend of yours no matter what.

If Micah thought the bank job couldn’t have gone any worse he’d be called a fool because boy was he wrong. Most definitely wrong.

The boat fucking sunk.

Of all the things that could have happened, something ended up catching fire and in the chaos of it all ended up on some island beach with Dutch and Bill, god knows where Arthur is in all of this. There was sand scratching his already burnt skin and the heat was sweltering, it wasn’t even midday yet and he’d already made the choice that he hated this Island.

After three days on the Island, his opinion had not changed one bit. If anything he’d say he hated it even more. The amount of wildlife was unbearable, with the disgusting insects that were everywhere and the vines which were snakes hidden in plain sight. Not to mention he’d already been in too many shootouts to count, Javier was shot and captured and Dutch was slowly slipping into insanity while running around caves and ruins running errands for people that he didn’t know.

For once, Micah was glad to take guard duty. Sure the heat was enough to give him a headache and he had to listen to Morgan cough up half his lungs each night but it was better than getting involved in some civil war between rich businessmen and the locals. All he wants is to leave this Island and be back with you.

In the dead quiet of the night, Micah is leaning against a stone pillar keeping guard. His eyes wander to the moonlight that bounces off the water and how it reminds him of your new revolver. Sure most revolvers were same bright colour but yours was black with white engravings. He had it made especially for you as a gift and when he saw your face light up with joy, it made paying for the damn thing worth every cent.

God he misses you, he hates to admit it but he so desperately wants to see you. He thinks about finally seeing you again, how you’ll probably break his nose for taking so long but he’d expect nothing less from an outlaw like you. The thought makes him chuckle to himself softly at how much he’s head over heels for you.

The next few days are a haze, he doesn’t even know who he’s fighting but there’s no time to stop and think about it as bullets whizz past him in every direction from his place on the beach. There’s a ship and a canon that leaves the building rattling with each fire of the canon ball and there’s boats of guards that chase them up the beach.

Miraculously everyone survives and Micah doesn’t stop to look at the damage left on the beach. The thought of being back with you makes the shootout worth it and he can’t wait to put that shitty Island behind him.

When you finally see Micah stroll into the new camp, you’re already half way over to him before he’s even off his horse. The whole way you’re rambling, borderline yelling as you practically lecture him for leaving.

“How could you be so irresponsible, running off like that! I don’t believe it! Micah do you know how fucking worried I wa-“

Micah cuts you short by wrapping your arm under you and pulls you into a long kiss. He lets out a sigh against your lips at how badly he’s missed it, how badly he’s missed you. You mirror his desperation and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer by his hair as you’re terrified to let him go.

Neither of you care that the gang is watching you two, all that matters is he’s back and you can finally stop worrying.

“Don’t you dare run off like that again…”

There’s no venom in your lecture this time and he smiles against your lips, kissing you again.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

Later, when things had calmed down and everyone was waiting for Bill and Arthur to return, you snuck away with Micah to ‘scout for a potential lead’. Dutch had protested but you simply stated that there was mouth’s to feed and money to be made which seemed to do the job with only the slight warning of not causing too much trouble.

That of course would all have to wait as you made your way into the Hotel in Annesburg, slinging your coat over the door handle before making your way over to Micah who sat on the edge of the bed. You seated yourself onto his lap and brought him in for another kiss, this one much more passionate but no less gentle. His hands came up to roam over your back, finally getting to feel you after so long. He took off your gun belt and brought you closer, desperately trying to untuck your shirt from your pants as he tried to undress you without letting you go.

“S’alright Micah, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

You chuckle at he impatient gruff he throws at you and kiss his cheek adoringly. Micah will admit to hating how sappy and loved you made him feel but deep down you both know he loves every second of it.

You stand up, moving away from him slightly to undress properly and you notice how Micah doesn’t take his eyes off you. It makes removing his own shirt rather clumsy, getting stuck on the buttons but he can’t get over how lucky he that you like him.

When all you’re both finally undressed all the way, Micah lays back down on the middle of the bed with you straddled on top of him. Usually he’s adamant on being in charge but tonight he’s happy to let you call the shots.

After what feels like hours of gentle teasing and light kisses, you finally line yourself up as he slides into you. A soft moan bubbles from your lips when Micah’s hip thrusts up reflexively, causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you.

Eventually as you both find a rhythm your gentle and soft touches become more heated and demanding. Micah’s hands are grabbing your hips in the best kind of way, meeting your thrusts half way. A cocky smirk is on his face as he makes more moans and whimpers leave you.

At one point you lean down and use his hair to pull him into a bruising kiss, full of teeth and tongue. The change of angle has you moaning much louder into his mouth as his cock hits that spot that makes your stomach flare with pleasure, brining you closer to the edge. You can tell he’s not too far behind you from the way his thrusts falter slightly and are much more irregular. Not to mention the moans of his own that now accompany his groans.

“Mm Fuck Micah… Don’t you ever leave like that again.”

Micah chuckles at your attempt to lecture him again, but he can hear the serious undertone, how worried you were over him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart…”

One, two, three more thrusts later and you’re pushed over the edge. Your face is pressed into his neck as you moan his name, biting into his neck which is sure to leave a mark at such an intense orgasm. You tightening around him is enough to send him over as a soft pretty moan leaves him. It was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over your own panting breath, but you did and its only reserved for you.

Once you’ve both cleaned up, you’re looking down at him with a sheet wrapped over the two of you. You’re gently brushing his hair from your face and you can’t help but smile. His soft blue eyes glow in the golden candle light, his cheeks have a slight stain of pink from the sunburn that hasn’t quite healed yet and you think he looks absolutely perfect in that moment.

“Whatcha staring at sweetheart?”

Your smile grows at the lost puppy look he has on his face and you can’t help but trace the scar that runs from his chin to his lip with your thumb.

“You… I’m staring at you dummy, because I love you.”

Micah’s eyes widen before he flips you so you’re the one underneath him, his forearms on either side of your face. He leans down and gives you a tender kiss, humming in agreement.

“Love you too.”

Micah kisses his way down your lips to your collarbone where he rests his head on your chest. Your hand comes to gently play with his hair again, something you can’t get enough of, until you both begin to fall asleep. You drift off with a small smile on your face, contempt and at peace for the first time in a long time knowing that if the two of you could survive that horrid bank job then you could survive anything else that was thrown your way.

#micah bell #micah bell imagine #micah bell x reader #micah bell hc’s #soft and angsty rat #soft micah hours #you can tell i love his hair too much #it just looks fun to play with #it’s like kinda sub micah? i can’t tell #either way it’s self indulgent af #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 writing #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #nsft post

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moonlit-mizukage · 4 years ago

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Chapter twenty: The Dance

Summary: Y/l/n Y/n, a third year at Sakura High School, is just a girl with a bad attitude towards anyone outside her small circle. When y/n’s younger sister starts first year, she gains a lot of attention. Unfortunately for everyone in school, the Y/l/n household has one rule, No dating till y/n does. Some people become just desperate enough to pay the leader of the “Monsters”, the trouble making group on campus, to date y/n. What will happen when she finds out? (All characters aged up to third year unless otherwise stated)

TW: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abandonment, Oikawa being a complete ass, physical violence, angst

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Third Person Pov 9:30pm

Oikawa pulled into the y/l/n’s house. He exited his car as he approached the door. He did a quick reflection check and pushed his hair around and fixed his suit.

“You’re a hottie, you got this, tonight IS the night.” He said to his reflection. He then knocked on the door. At first there was no answer. So he knocked again. He pulled out his phone and tried to call Mei on it, but just to his luck, no response. The door opened but the sisters father was left standing in front of him.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, we met once,”

“I remember, that teen boy who smells like a teen sex magnet.” He cut Oikawa off.

“Umm okay… Is Mei home?” He asked, trying to ignore his previous comment on his smell.

“No and if she was I still would not let her out with you again.”

“Sir I assure you I am a good guy who just wants to treat her right.”

“I see your kind everyday in the hospital I work at. The type to get someone pregnant and then run while they are giving birth and never look back.”

“That is oddly specific, but I must assure you I am not interested in that stuff right n-” Before Oikawa could finish his sentence the door was slammed in his face.

“Okay wow that was rude.” He said to himself walking down the front steps back to his car. He checked his phone for more time before leaving. Atsumu had sent him an image. Oikawa opened it only to see Mei and Yamaguchi dancing together, holding onto one another even. He felt himself get angry. He tossed his phone aside and pulled out of the driveway heading to the dance.

At the dance already- Third person pov

Tendou walked up to the door with his arm entangled with Y/n’s. He seemed to be a little nervous. Nothing anyone could see upon first glance, but definitely something the other monsters were aware of. Tendou swallowed a lump in his throat as they entered inside, to look over the dance floor.

“Do you wanna dance?” Y/n said louder then she normally would speak to him.

“Yeah let’s do it babe.” She seemed to not even notice the nerves he was dealing with.

They made their way down to the dance floor and Tendou did the best he could to Oikawa and his goons at this time. Not seeing Oikawa yet he assumed it was safe for now, but seeing Yamaguchi dancing with Y/n’s younger sister, he could only guess Oikawa would be angry with them and him. Tendou was not afraid of Oikawa in any way, but he was afraid he would tell y/n before he got a chance to tell you himself.

Just as y/n was laughing and staring up at Tendou with the utmost love, a slow song started to play.

“I hate slow songs at dances,” She began to say, “They make me feel like I’m the main character of some cheesy ass romance movie.”

“Well you are.” He said back as she leaned down, resting her head on his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” She said just loud enough for him to hear.

“You are the main character in my romance story.” Her body stiffened with this remark as he leaned down leaving a kiss on her forehead. “You don’t have to worry, you know me Y/n. You can trust me, I promise.” Just as he was finished saying that the song ended and he saw Oikawa as he rushed through the crowd heading right up to her younger sister.

Tendou pulled you away,

“Can we go get some air in the room over there? It’s just a bit hot in here that's all.” Y/n nodded her head in agreement as she followed close behind. She never let go of his hand the whole way there.

Still on the dance floor, Mei and Yamaguchi were having a wonderful time. Oikawa grabbed Yamaguchi harshly as he ripped him apart from Mei.

“What the fuck Mei!” He shouted. People around them moved back to either give more space or witness the drama unfold.

“Oikawa go away! I am not interested in you anymore!”

“Did your bitch sister tell you more lies about me?” He asked as she reached up and slapped him as hard as she could.

“YOU BITCH!” He shouted as Yamaguchi pushed her behind him. Tsukishima and Shirabu showed up in perfect time to stand next to Yamaguchi, knowing how intimidated Oikawa would become. He looked Mei directly in the eyes and yelled,

“That's fine. You were an expensive whore anyways. You weren't worth my time or money. Have fun being a nobody the rest of your life bitch.” Before anyone knew what was happening, Yamaguchi threw a fist and connected it directly to Oikawa’s face. “What th FUCK!” He said as he tossed a punch right back into Yamaguchi’s stomach, knocking him onto the cold floor.

“You dick!” Mei said. She then punched Oikawa hard in the eye. “That’s for Yamaguchi,” She then punched him again. “That’s for y/n.” Next she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in a hunched over position, kneeing him in the balls, “And that’s for me asshole!” On that note he fell to the floor. Atsumu and Iwaizuimi came and helped him up and after a minute he was fine. He got the two guys to follow him on the hunt for Tendou.

In the other room of the dance, Y/n and Tendou were doing your own thing and having a great time. The two of you laughed as you rested on the railing that looked down on the floor below.

Oikawa entered the room, his two goons as Tendou called them, following right on his trail. He noticed the two about to kiss as he then spoke up.

“What the absolute fuck Tendou!”

“Who the hell do you think you are talking to?” Tendou said back, already in front of you as to protect you.

“I didn’t pay you to take out this psycho bitch for her whore sister to come with someone else.” Y/n’s head snapped into Oikawa’s direction.

“Fuck off Oikawa.” He said, noticeably angry at that point.

“What the fuck does he mean pay you?” Y/n asked Tendou.

“Oh you didn’t think this was real did you Y/n? You really think anyone would willingly go out with you without being paid did you?” Oikawa asked with full intent to hurt coming through his words adding a conniving laugh to the end of his words.

“He’s lying right Satori?” You asked, voice on the verge of being broken then.

“I-” Tendou stuttered, he took a deep breath before he carried on.”I wanted to tell you sooner, I really did Y/n.”

“So it’s true?” She no longer attempted to hide her tears in that moment. She turned to run away as Tendou grabbed her wrist.

“Please, let me explain first?” He asked her.

“Go to hell Satori!” She said as she ripped her arm from him and ran down the stairs.

Tendou turned to the three guys who had just remained still in front of him.

“You three have just made some powerful enemies.” Tendou stated as he pulled out his phone. The other three fled as they knew the Monsters were now on their way there.

As for y/n, she called Shirabu who had grabbed the other and took her home in Tsukishima’s car. They all sat around y/n’s room after they had just changed from their fancy clothes. Y/n sat in the windowcell, with her head rested upon the glass. She looked out upon the moonlight wondering how such a thing could come to be.

Y/n felt a buzz on her phone as she picked it up. She didn’t recognize the number but the message read;

I know I messed up but I just want to talk to you, please.

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An: I have been honestly so excited to write this part and the ones after for some time now UwU

Taglist: @belongtothewcrld @elianetsantana @its-the-aerieljeane @london-quynh @vhskenma @denkithunder @swagdaddycam @ems1des @tendouispretty @senpaisbadass @elephantloser @smolbbgorl @mikeys-thighs @kuroolilchibichan @softesyoongi @ouijaeater15 @xxsilverwingxx @prettyinblack231 @kookie-doughs @mikesdeath @bruh-kill-me @skeet-skeet-double-fckn-yeet @d0llpie @0-hysteria-0 @katsumi-sumi @rintarawr @sirachano0dles @satan-ruler-of-hells @himboos @maer-333 @pastel-prynce @tanakasimpcorner @atria-avior

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x you #haikyuu tendou #tendou x reader #tendou smau #tendou x you #tendou x y/n

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hogarthwrites · 4 years ago

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the three of us [request]

pairing: young sam drake/reader (m/f), 28 year old sam drake/reader (m/f)

genre: angst, fluff, found family

warnings: teen pregnancy, child birth, menstruation/period mention

words: 3,337

summary:

An unexpected announcement, a future suddenly so unsure. Your relationship with Sam is tested as you’re at a crossroads between enjoying the last year of your adolescence or taking on responsibility.

note:

this was a request by @profoundapricotclodopera <3 i hope you like it!!

You couldn’t remember the last time you had your period. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to miss some months and the school nurse had told you it was normal for an eighteen year old to skip every now and then.

The bathroom tiles were cold as you sat on the floor, waiting for the test tube on the sink counter to give you your result. It wasn’t hard to convince your mom you weren’t feeling well so she could let you stay home. As soon as she left, you took out the pregnancy test you bought after school the day before.

Your heart beat loudly as the timer went off and you shakily stood up. There it was: the solution mixed with your urine had turned a sinister red. Positive.

No, no, no, no. You couldn’t be pregnant, you told yourself. You and Sam did everything right, you were careful, but still…

The test was still red. Maybe it was wrong? It’s not like you had any other symptoms like morning sickness or cravings. You chucked the water into the toilet and threw out the test.

What would you tell Sam? How would he even react? You haven’t even been together for a year, and it frightened you to think that a kid will just scare him off. You didn’t want to think about what your mother would say.

Sam looked exhausted when he climbed through your window that night. He gave you a hug before flopping down on the bed.

“I waited for you at the school,” he mumbled. “Jeanie said you were sick.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t call. I really wasn’t feeling too great,” you sat on the bed next to him and stroked his hair. “I’m feeling better now, though. I promise.”

“I’m glad,” he took your hand in his, sleepily kissing your fingertips.

“Tired?”

Sam simply nodded. He worked two jobs, and sometimes he’d come by to see you just to fall asleep then leave early enough not to get caught by your mother.

“Sam…”

“What is it?” He mumbled into the pillow.

“I haven’t had my period yet.”

He sat up and raised an eyebrow at you. “That’s happened before, though.”

“Yeah, but not for six months.”

“What are you trying to say?” He sat up now, sleep gone from his mind.

“I don’t know, Sam!” You buried your face in your knees.

“You don’t think…?” His voice quivered. “But I was so careful.”

“I took a test, Sam,” you looked up at him, feeling the hot tears stream down your cheeks.

“No.” Sam stood up, backing away from the bed. “No. It’s probably a broken test.”

You started sobbing, maybe a little too loud that Sam moved back to you to calm you down, also worried your mother might wake up.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he wiped your cheeks. “Say, why don’t we go to the clinic tomorrow? I’m sure they can tell you if you actually are…”

“Pregnant?” You sniffed.

Sam pursed his lips and nodded.

“I-I’m here, alright?” He pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead. You simply buried your face in his chest as he lay you both down on the bed until you fell asleep.

Sam didn’t know how to feel as he took out the money he’s been saving up from the jar he usually hid under his desk to help pay for your check up that day. He didn’t want to believe what you were saying last night, telling himself that the people at the clinic will say otherwise.

Don’t worry. It’s nothing. He was always so careful with you and you swore you were on the pill, so it was probably just a terrible mistake. Unless…

“Sam?” You stood at the doorway of his room. He was still staring at the bills in his hand, unable to speak. “Um, I’m ready to go.”

He held your hand as you walked up to the front desk, where an older woman sympathetically looked at the both of you. You knew what she was thinking. So young…

He held your hand as you sat at the waiting area, glancing at other couples who were much older. They looked happy, but you sat there with Sam wanting to disappear. Time seemed to crawl ever so slowly as you waited for your name to get called, the clock ticking loudly, or was that your heart beating loudly?

You placed a hand on your tummy, wondering if there was an actual baby inside. If there was, would you want to keep it? After all, it was yours and Sam’s.

Sam gave your hand a squeeze, breaking you out of your trance and you looked into his brown eyes, just as nervous as yours.

“They’re calling you,” his voice cracked as he spoke.

“Okay,” you nodded.

You stood up, knees shaking, feeling Sam’s fingers slip from yours as you followed the nurse. He kept his eyes on you as you walked away.

Sam couldn’t take it. He couldn’t sit in a waiting lobby surrounded by happy couples while he felt like he was waiting for a death sentence. No, that was a little too much. Having a kid isn’t the end of the world, is it? Maybe it is when you’ve just turned nineteen.

He went out in the cold Boston air and took out his pack of Lucky Strike’s and smoked a cigarette. Then another. Then another. Why the hell was it taking so long?

A couple came out of the clinic, the woman was rubbing her swollen stomach and happily smiled at the man she was with. For a second, he let himself imagine being that happy with you and it felt nice until he remembered he could barely support himself.

The doctor asked you so many questions: Are you sexually active? When was your last period? When was the last time you had sex? Did you use protection? Have you taken a pregnancy test?

She asked you to get an ultrasound, much to your dismay. You were sure she was wrong. I’m a good kid, you told yourself. This doesn’t happen to good kids.

As soon as the cold gel hit your stomach, you felt like you blacked out. You felt the doctor move the contraption around your stomach, but you could barely hear what she was saying. Something about fingers? Fingers?

You looked at the monitor, and almost as if your soul fell back into your body, you regained your senses. There it was: a whole baby inside your stomach. The doctor pointed out the fingers and the toes said you were six months pregnant.

“Hey, baby,” you whispered, feeling overwhelmed.

“Do you wanna know the sex?” The doctor asked.

You thought to yourself, still unsure if you still wanted to keep the child, but figured it wouldn’t hurt to know what sex it was.

“Sure,” you nodded.

“It’s a girl.”

Sam took your hand as you stepped out of the clinic, still dazed. The bad feeling at the pit of his stomach grew as he watched you reach into your jacket pocket and pull out a photograph.

“Girl,” was simply what you said as you handed it to him.

He felt numb as he looked at the black and white image in his hand. There it was. The end of his life as he knew it. He thought about the three jobs he was working just to make ends meet, then about Nathan who was still in the orphanage. How the fuck was he going to take care of you, his brother, and now a baby?

“Are… Are you keeping it?” He gave you back the photo. “Um, I mean her.”

“I don’t know,” you pocketed it again and pushed past him. “I don’t even know if I’m going to pass my midterms, Sam, what more this?”

“I can’t be a dad yet!” He said out loud, starting after you.

“I can’t be a parent yet either, but here we are!”

You stopped dead in your tracks and sat on the ground, burying your face in your knees. You sniffled again and again as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Let’s talk about this,” you felt Sam’s hand on your back.

“Take me home,” you muttered.

“Are you sure?”

“Please.”

You decided not to tell your mother until you had decided what you wanted. You went to school the next day as if nothing was wrong, but making sure you got a nurse’s note for phys ed. PMS cramps, you had said. A whole lie.

Sam was respectful when you told him you needed time, just at least for the weekend where you spent a lot of time in bed just thinking. Just a year ago you went to watch For Keeps with your mom, thinking that could never happen to me. After all, you knew what you were doing. What went wrong?

Pills aren't always effective. That's what the doctor said. It made you angry to think no one ever talked to you about the precautions. How were you supposed to know that?

You looked at the ultrasound photo whenever you were alone and let your mind wander, imagining raising the child with Sam. It would be hard, sure, but in your mind, as long as he was by your side, you could do anything. But then…

I can’t be a dad yet!

It was selfish of you to choose for him. After all, it was still his kid too. It hurt to imagine, but even if Sam didn’t stay, you still wanted to keep the child.

Sam smoked more and more. The first few puffs always felt so good, so right, but he felt disgusted whenever he was done with a cigarette. Life has always been rough for him, but this was the most stressful thing he's been through.

He couldn’t imagine being a dad. He’s never had a father figure in his life, not when his own father was never home and when he was, he always came home drunk and barely spoke to his wife and sons. No fucking way he was going to be like that asshole. However...

He thought about you. He didn’t understand what it was, but he’s never felt that way with anyone else before and he’s dated so many others before. It was weird, but the thought of having a kid that was half you, half him tickled him. Was that what you wanted too, he wondered.

“I’m keeping the baby,” you announced the next time you met at an empty playground after Sam’s last shift of the day.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that,” he dug his sneakers into the sand.

“I know…” You sighed. “I know you don’t want to be a parent, but with or without you, I’m raising this child.”

Sam stared at you for a moment, catching you off-guard as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in to kiss you. You melted into his arms, realising you haven’t kissed him in a while, and you missed it.

He rested his forehead on yours, cupping your cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere, alright?” He whispered.

“Sam,” you started to cry again, feeling like a tonne of bricks was lifted off your shoulder. You'd expected him to get mad, to run away, but instead he stayed.

He put his hands on your stomach. “It’s going to be hell, but I’m willing to go through it with you.”

Hell was an understatement. Your legs, hips, and your back hurt, and you were just so done with being pregnant. All you wanted was for the baby to pop out already, but the last few weeks just seemed to drag on.

It wasn’t any easier for Sam. He worked longer just to make ends meet despite moving in with you and your mother, he still felt like he was responsible to help pay for your check ups. He only got to see his little brother once since you found out you were pregnant, and even though Nathan was excited to be an uncle, Sam felt a bit different.

Dad. He was going to be a dad and it scared the hell out of him. He didn’t want to be like his old man, but he knew next to nothing about being a parent. He didn’t even feel comfortable with moving in with you until your stomach started swelling larger by the day.

“We haven’t picked out a name,” you mentioned one night as you sat in bed, playing with plastic dinosaurs on your tummy. Sam lay on his stomach, reading a book but he looked up in thought.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” he mumbled. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“Catherine?”

Sam made a face. “That’s a nun’s name.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

“I think I’ll leave the baby names to you.”

He took your hand and buried his face in the pillow, tired from the day’s work. He sleepily rubbed your hand with his thumb until he fell asleep. You watched him sleep, finally deciding on a name.

You’ve read enough books to know childbirth was painful, and at first, it felt like normal cramps. So far so good, right? You tried to tell yourself it was going to be fine, but as the hours passed and you were staring up at the fluorescent light in your hospital room, the pain just kept getting worse.

Deep breaths, that’s what the nurses, the doctors, your mother said. You didn’t know how many breaths you’ve taken already, but it wasn’t helping at all. Contraction, rest, contraction, you were tired and all you wanted was to be done with the whole ordeal.

Sam wasn’t faring any better, pacing back and forth and constantly asking if you needed anything. He stayed by your side when you started pushing, trying to hold back terrified tears as he heard you cry and scream in pain, meanwhile holding onto his hand so hard that it hurt.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he softly said as you took deep breaths between pushing.

“Okay?” You looked at him angrily. “I’m in so much fucking pain, Samuel. This isn’t okay.”

“Just a little more,” the doctor announced. “Push!”

You felt like you were gonna black out as you gave one last push, and the first thing you saw was Sam’s relieved face and he smiled softly.

“You did it,” he cupped your cheek, brushing away your tears. “She’s beautiful.”

“What?” You whispered, confused. You heard a baby crying and soon a warm bundle was placed in your arms.

She had Sam’s eyes and nose, and was at a perfect 7 lbs. When she cried, you cried.

“What are you going to name her?” The nurse approached you.

Sam didn’t know how to feel as he stood by, watching you bond with your newborn. He wanted to hold her, but he was scared at the thought of accidentally hurting her. He was officially a parent.

“Sam… Samantha…” He heard you say and he looked up to meet your eyes.

“I want to name her Samantha,” you smiled up at him.

Samantha was more like her father in more ways than one. Not only did she look so much like him, she was just as rambunctious and adventurous as Sam, climbing everything she could even at the young age of ten.

“That’s normal,” Sam would say. “I taught Nathan to climb at that age. She’ll be fine.”

It took a lot of convincing, but you eventually gave in, knowing that she was happy running around looking for treasure that Sam left around the house before going to work.

Sam was terrified when Samantha was born, always so scared about making ends meet. Your mother was more than welcoming to let you all stay with her, but he kept thinking about Nathan, still stuck at the orphanage. It was hard the first few years; a lot of sleepless nights, a lot of fighting, a lot of making up, but ten years down the line, he was just glad it worked out.

His mind lingered to his mother, Cassandra. He’d lost her when he was around Samantha’s age and he always wondered what it would’ve been like if Cassandra had stayed and took him and Nathan on adventures with her. Seeing his own kid have the same spirit that she had made him wonder and it led him to Cassandra’s journal that he kept in a box in his closet for years.

Cassandra’s journal had so many mysteries that were left unsolved, so many that he’d wanted to chase after but were put on hold so he could raise Samantha with you. Maybe it was time…

“Panama?!” You looked at Sam in disbelief when he told you what was on his mind. “And in a prison too. Sam, that’s dangerous!”

“It’ll just be me and Nathan in the prison. And I swear if I can find this treasure, we’d be able to have our own home and everything, Samantha can go to a better school...” he tried to explain but you shook your head.

“And if anything happened to you?”

He took a few steps towards you and took your hands in his. “Look, I’ll come back. We made it this far, nothing bad’s going to happen.”

“What are we going to tell Samantha?” You sighed.

“The truth,” he shrugged.

“I don’t know, Sam,” you turned away. “This might be too much.”

“She’s so smart and adventurous. I know she’s going to understand.”

You sighed again. He made a few points. You needed the money and you didn’t want to lie to Samantha, especially if Sam left for a few months. You hoped and prayed to God it would be just a few months.

“Okay,” you turned back to see Sam looking relieved. “I trust you, Samuel.”

“We’re going to find long lost pirate treasure?” Samantha’s eyes lit up at Sam’s story.

“Sure, kid,” Sam chuckled as he ruffled her hair. “But I have to go find the first clue with Uncle Nathan first, alright?”

“Then you’ll take me?” She pouted.

“As long as you promise you’ll be good while I’m gone.”

“I pinky promise and I cross my heart and hope to die,” Samantha held up her pinky to cross with Sam’s. “Where do you think we’ll go, Sam?”

“Hmm,” he looked up in thought. “I don’t know, but probably somewhere far away.”

“The loot of a thousand worlds!” She dramatically said, flopping down on her pillow. “You’re the coolest.”

“No, you are,” Sam laughed as he tucked her in. He brushed back her curly brown locks, similar to his. He was going to miss her, but he knew he wouldn’t be at peace with himself if he didn’t start looking for Avery’s treasure soon.

“Good night, Sam,” Samantha yawned.

“Good night, peanut,” Sam kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

You were grinning at him as he closed the door to her room, proud of the person he’s become.

“What’s the verdict?” He asked as he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you in. “Are you in on the treasure hunt?”

“Well,” you sighed. “As much as I want to, you know I could never say ‘no’ to you, Sam.”

“Do I know it,” he winked and leaned in to kiss you but you placed a finger on his lips.

“You better come back,” you gave him a stern look.

“Come on, baby, you know I will.”

“Pinky promise,” you held up your pinky and Sam laughed.

“Boy, do I have a lot of promises to keep.”

You held your pinky up higher. “Promise me, Sam.”

He had a smug smirk as he crossed his pinky with yours. “I pinky promise I’ll come home.”

“Or else.”

“Or else,” he chuckled. “Now, can I get a kiss?”

“I could never say no to that” you pulled him in for a kiss

#sam drake #sam drake x reader #uncharted fanfiction #request

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years ago

Text

Heir To The Throne

Chapter 2: Secrets

There comes a day where all fathers pass their business down to their children. This was no ordinary business, this was the mafia. You were the sole heir to the throne and you didn’t want it. Your father’s right hands Derek and Aaron are tasked with convincing you otherwise, the last thing you expected to do was fall in love.

Mafia AU

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader, Derek Morgan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cemeteries, mentions of garvez, loss of a sibling and parent, smoking, mentions of death, alcohol and the consumption of, little bit of Matt x reader, mentions of sex and sex references, kissing, swearing, guns and use of, threats, breakups

Word Count: 3.2k

Author’s Note: a chapter gives you a bit of a better insight on everyone! chapter 3 will be on its way soon!!

Masterlist /// Chapter 1 /// Chapter 3

----

Fog filled the cemetery as Luke drove through the giant iron gates. He was outside when you had come down and offered to drive you.

You glanced over at the man who had a permanent scowl on his face. “How’s Penelope?” you ask him, a little curl at the edge of his lips appeared. “Oh dude, you totally like her!” you squealed and hit his arm playfully.

“Shut up y/n, we’re just friends. She’s fine” he answered you, pulling over by the tree. “Just fine?” you questioned and he nodded.

“Didn’t sound like she was ‘just fine’ last night” wiggling your eyebrows at him, he gave you a stern look. You raised your hands playfully, “your secret is safe with me grumpy” you smiled and turned towards the window.

Luke placed his hand on your shoulder, you glanced over at him.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he said, you reached up and gave his hand a squeeze before shaking your head.

“I’m alright. I won't be long.”

“Take your time”

Stepping out of the car after grabbing the bunches of flowers you had, you walked down the pathway to your mother’s grave. You replaced the old flowers that sit beside her tombstone, which you could only assume had been put there by your father, and brushed off dust from the top. Stepping away, you walked down a bit further and sat on the ground in front of a tombstone.

James Rossi

1989 - 2015

Beloved son, brother and friend.

Setting the bunch of flowers beside the tombstone, you let out a sigh. “So I slapped Derek last night. I know it was wrong but he was talking about you like it wasn't his fault.” your hand ran across his name on the stone. “It’s not my fault though, I tried to control myself but he was being a bitch and don’t even get me started on Emily.” you rolled your eyes, “I threw a bottle at her head but she deserved it so I'm not going to apologize for that.” A wind blew through the cemetery, you brushed away the few leaves that fell by the flowers. “Oh! Luke and Penny are totally hooking up and yes, he’s still as grumpy as he was the last time you..” sighing, cutting your sentence short. “Anyways, she seems to make him happy and I'm happy for him” you glanced over your shoulder, you could see Luke standing outside the car on the phone and smoking.

“I’ll come around more often J, I'll try and get dad to come too. I love you always” you pressed a kiss to your fingers and then pressed it to the stone before getting up. You brushed off the grass and dirt from your legs and headed back to the car.

“She's coming back, I’ll talk to you later and I love you more” you could hear Luke say to whoever was on the other end of the call. Smiling at him, “tell pens I said hi, lover boy” Luke shot you a glare before you hopped in the car.

“Stop eavesdropping” he turned the car around, you looked out the window and replied to him, “not my fault you decided to declare your love to miss Garica as I came back” Luke chuckled at your statement.

“You’re annoying”

“Oh you love me Al”

He shook his head and drove back to the villa. Upon arriving home, he excused himself back to the armoury, or so he said. Luke didn’t realize that you too, had seen Penelope waiting down by the garden for him. Heading inside, your father’s laugh was the first thing you heard.

He hadn't laughed like that since your mother passed.

As you walked down the foyer, a woman's voice echoed through the empty hallway. “Dave stop it!” she laughed, you pushed the door to the dining hall open. Dave and a blonde woman sat side by side having lunch. “Oh bella, I didn’t realize you’d be back already” your father stood up from his chair as you walked in. “Yeah, I didn't want to stay too long today, I have things to do. Sorry for interrupting, I didn't realize we had company”

“I, have company, not you” Dave corrected you, “but since you’re here, y/n, this is Krystall. Krystall, this is my daughter y/n” your father introduced the woman to you. She stuck her hand out and you shook it. “Nice to meet you” she smiled and you gave her a nod.

“Please continue, I'm just here for a drink and then I'm off” you spoke as you walked towards the bar, filling a glass with some whiskey. You pressed a kiss to your father's cheek and walked out.

“What the actual fuck was that?” you mumbled, walking down the staircase to the basement.

The hallway lights had been turned off, you fumbled around and felt the wall until finding the switch. There were boxes and crates stacked on each other and lined up against the wall, a light peaked through a crack in the door at the end of the hall. Pushing it open, Spencer sat at a table and Tara’s back was turned to you. “Hello my darlings” you shouted, making Spencer jump.

“Fucking hell, I told you stop doing that!” he shouted at you, you walked over and ruffled his hair.

“Calm down pretty boy, no need to stress yourself out” you walked over to Tara, you slung your arm around her shoulder, “hey pretty lady”

“Hello to you too, what brings you down here to see us?” she asked you, her eyes on the screen in front of her.

“Other than the fact that my father is entertaining a woman upstairs and I didn’t want to hear nor see that ?” you cringed, “I just missed your beautiful faces” you laughed.

“So you finally met Krystall ?” Spencer piped up from his table, dividing the cash in front of him, you looked over at your cousin.

“Finally met her ? How long have you known about her ?”

“A few weeks ? according to Penelope, she’s been around for a few months because uncle Dave asked her to give Krystall a code for the gate”

“What?! And you didn't think to tell me?!” you screamed at him. Spencer shouted back at you, “I thought you knew!”

“Obviously not!” you yelled again, “Spencer some random woman has the gate code to our home and you didn’t think to mention that to me?! She could be here to kill us for all you know!”

Spencer rolled his eyes at you, “No need to get your panties in a twist cousin, I'm sure Krystall isn’t here to kill us. She’s a harmless woman, and would it be so bad for your father to start seeing someone ? Maybe he’d finally get off you back about taking over.”

“Spencer, are you crazy ? This is the worst possible thing, she’s gonna drag him off to some island and leave me here to be in charge. I despise that idea, you know that.” rolling your eyes, your cousin sighed,

“Just talk to him if you don't like it, you idiot, but shut up now. Not all of us can spend our day shopping with daddy’s money, we have a job to do” he said, turning his attention back to the money, his statement made Tara laugh.

“Okay fuck you too Spencer, I'll see you two for dinner ? We’re still good for 10 right ?”

“Sounds good” Tara and Spencer said simultaneously, your brows furrowed, “that was weird but okay. Laters babes” you headed out and ventured back up the stairs and out the door. Emily and JJ stood in the clearing on the grass with maybe 10 or 12 young guys, you could only assume they were the newest recruits to your father’s so called army. Entering at the other side of the building, Matt was in the armoury smoking a blunt. “Is this what I'm paying you for Simmons ?” you walked in, Matt sat up from his seat, he was zoned out but he heard the voice and assumed it was your father, you knew that for sure.

“No boss, I'm sor- are you kidding?” he saw you standing there with a rather amused look on your face, you bit your lip as you held back a laugh. “Does my father scare you Matt ?” you asked, taking the blunt from him and took a pull.

“No?” he said, truthfully that sounded more like a question rather than an answer.

“And the truth ?” you sat down, propping your feet up on the table.

“Yes” he leaned on the table across from you, you laughed while leaning forward to pass the blunt back to him. “Scaredy cat” you smiled at him, Matt rolled his eyes “you have nothing to worry about, you’re his daughter”

“Doesn’t mean I’m untouchable”

“Yeah, it does, actually”

“Mhm, if I'm untouchable, what happened the other night with you ?” you raised your brows, Matt blushed. “Not what I meant” he said, you stood up and walked towards him.

“Did I make you blush ?” you slung your arms over his shoulders, your hands coming up to his hair at the nape of his neck, “no of course you don’t, I think it's the other way around” Matt’s hands were on your waist, he lifted you up onto the table.

“Why are you even in here? Where’s Luke ?” you twirled his hair with your fingers, Matt’s forehead rested against yours, “he’s making out with Penelope in the garden” Matt stated casually.

Pulling away slightly, you looked at him, “what ?”

“Oh fuck, you didn't know” Matt’s eyes went wide.

Of course you knew, but Matt didn't know that you knew about Luke and Penelope.

“I know about them, you can relax” you laughed, “Luke would've killed you if I didn't already know though” your hands cupped Matt’s face. Matt leaned forward, your lips barely touching his. His hands on your lower back, pulling you towards him and closed the gap between the two of you. Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt as his lips moved from your lips to your cheek and then to your neck.

“Luke I need a g- oh” Derek's voice rang through the room. Matt pulled away from you, he looked like a deer in headlights.

You on the other hand, were as Matt said, untouchable.

Matt buttoned his shirt back up, “um Luke’s out but I can get you what you need” he told Derek who was still standing at the door watching the scene in front of him unfold. Hopping off the counter, you wiped the lipstick off Matt's lips with your thumb and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I'll see you around love”

Derek stood off to the side as Matt gathered the things he needed. “Does Dave know what you're doing with his daughter ?”

“I don't see how that concerns him” Matt’s back was turned to him, his response made Derek roll his eyes.

“If you want to keep your fucking job, you’ll watch yourself”

“And what does that mean ?” Matt turned, handing him the gun. Derek rolled his eyes, playing with the trigger of the gun. “It means stay away from her or I'll make sure you do.” spinning on his feet, he walked towards the door.

“What’s your issue with me dude ? y/n doesn’t even like you so why are you acting like this ?”

Derek stopped in his tracks. his back still facing Matt, “and what do you know about how y/n feels towards me?”

Matt scoffed, “after what happened to her brother, you think she’ll let you tell her what to do with her life?”

The mention of James triggered something in Derek. James was one of his friends, his best friend in a way. What happened to James wasn’t his fault and he knew that. Derek had spent the last few years trying to get over that very thing.

“What did you just say to me ?” Derek turned to face him,

“Her brother, his death was your fault wasn’t it ?” Matt repeated himself.

Derek shoved him back slightly, “watch yourself” he mumbled, he really wasn't in the mood to fight with Matt.

“Or what ?” Matt challenged him and one thing you should never do, is challenge Derek. He has a habit of making his point no matter what. The muzzle of the gun pressed to the side of Matt’s head, Derek’s hand gripping to the collar of his shirt.

“Let’s try that again” Derek gave him a smug smile.

“Woah! Der, stop!” Aaron ran in, pulling Derek away from Matt. The gun was still pointed in Matt’s direction, Aaron looked over at Matt and nodded towards the door, Matt running out the door without looking back.

“Okay, what the fuck was that about D?”

Aaron took the gun from him and set it aside. Derek shook his head but Aaron knew him better than that, something was bothering him. “I know you man, you wouldn't pull a gun on him for no reason, what’s up ?”

“It’s stupid”

“C’mon”

“It’s James” Derek muttered, his eyes focused on anything, anything that would keep him from looking at Aaron.

“How- What ? How is that possible ? He shouldn't even- he couldn’t know about that” Aaron was confused, more than usual to tell you the truth. There was no way Matt could know about James, unless..

Aaron at Derek who was now looking at him. “Y/n..” he whispered, Derek nodded.

“Did he say anything else ?”

“Just that she didn’t like me”

“Don’t take it to heart, she doesn't like anyone” Aaron gave his shoulder a pat before walking out. Derek stood in the middle of the armoury by himself. There were so many things he needed to fix, to mend, to make right so he could move on. Luke brows furrowed as he walked in, “can I help you ?” his voice startled Derek, “no, I'm good. Just came for this” picking up the gun and tucking it into the waistband on his pants.

The drive over was quiet, Derek stopped at the front by the gates and walked the rest of the way. It wasn’t cold but it wasn't warm either and the trees blocked the sun out. This place always gave him the creeps and you’d think a big, strong guy wouldn't get scared that easily but he couldn’t help it.

For the second time today, James had gotten a visitor.

Derek stood in front of the tombstone. He wasn’t quite sure why he was there, maybe it was the mention of James’s death being his fault or just because his guilty conscience was getting to him.

“I don’t know why I'm here, honestly. I haven’t been back here since your funeral man, I just- I couldn't.” Derek sighed.

“It’s not my fault right ? you told me to go, I begged you to let me stay with you and you didn't let me.” he ran his hand over his face, “Your sister blames me. She thinks it’s my fault and she told her stupid little boy toy that.”

The flowers caught his eye, red roses.

“Your sister came to see you today didn't she? wait,” Derek chuckled “I'm asking you like you can answer me” he shook his head.

“Do you know I’ve been getting her roses for her birthday for the past 5 years ? Red roses just like you used to. She doesn't know it’s from me though, she thinks they’re from your father” Derek sighed.

“I don’t know why, I just- you know what ? I do know. I like her J, I do, like a lot.” he laughed, “holy fuck, I've never said that. I didn’t- wow” Derek paced back and forth for a few moments, he debated if he should tell her or not. She already hates him, what difference does it make ?

The heels clicked on the marble tiles as you walked down the staircase. You were just about to head out for dinner with Spencer and Tara when Matt walked past you.

“Hey! I'm leaving, why are you going upstairs ?” you stopped, turning back and looking up at him. His back was to you, you could hear him sigh.

“Matt, what’s wrong?” you walk up a few steps towards him, you reach for his hand but he pulls away.

“y/n.. we can’t do this anymore”

“What ? What are you talking about?”

“This,” he refers to you and him, “we can’t keep doing this. You’re going to lead this shit one day and you can’t spend all your time with me, there has to be something more for you.”

“Where’s this coming from ? What’s going on?”

Matt didn’t say anything else, instead he met you in the middle of the staircase. His hands cupped your face, “I'm sorry” he whispered before giving you one last kiss. Your forehead rested against his, your hand on his. He stepped back, your hand still on his, he pulled away until your fingers were barely touching, he finally stepped away, leaving you there by yourself.

There were so many questions.

Why ? What had happened ? Did your father say something to him ? What was the reason ? Did Derek tell him something ?

“Bitch, let’s go. We’re running late, Luke and Penelope are already on their way there” Spencer shouted for you from the bottom of the staircase. Your eyes fixed on the top of the stairs, you sighed and shook the feeling, turning towards Spencer with a smile on your face.

“Where’s Matt ? I thought he was coming with us ?” Tara asked as she walked over to the two of you. You shook your head, “he’s not feeling well” you lied, they both knew something was going on between the two of you but you weren't in the mood for it tonight.

You just wanted one last night out with your family as a 21 year old.

---

Ahh chapter 2 is done! how do we feeling ? I have something exciting in store for chapter 3!

Taglist: @mac99martin @aaron-hotchner187 @tclaerh @luke-alvez @iconicc @lieberhers @pumpkin-reads @katexrichardson @sluttytears @thelukealvez @scandinavian-punk @laurenxreynolds @morcias @shotarosleftpinky @mrs-dr-reid @hqtchner @averyhotchner @ssahoodrathotchner @willlemonheadsupremacy @ssa-autumn-hotchner @potter-reid @sunshinepower17 @emilysbau

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sweetdanibear · 4 years ago

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Valentine’s Day one shot myheroacademia Villains X gender neutral reader

Warnings: secondhand embarrassment, mentions of fire play, knife play, and some smut. Mention of alcohol

Request: Open🔓

Note: Y/n=your first name L/n=your Last name e/c= your eyecolor

Tomura Shigaraki

He doesn’t really understand why Valentine's day is so important, considering he never really celebrated holidays in general, so when you make such a big deal about it he’s really confused, and most likely overwhelmed.

This being your first Valentine’s day with Shiggy you wanted to make it special. You went out of your way to buy him his favorite snack, drink, and even a bouquet of flowers that remind you of him. Also just for the hell of it, a pair of your already worn panties/boxers, since he’s always trying to steal yours.

You wake him up with a nice breakfast in bed, since he doesn’t eat much in general. When he wakes up and sees the food, and you, he’s really thrown for a loop. He has no idea how to feel, he still has no idea what day it is either.

What the hell is wrong with them? Why are they giving me so many gifts today? He’s really trying to figure out why you’re giving him so many gifts today, and why you seem more affectionate than usual, but he just can’t seem to put his finger on it.

After a whole day of doing special little things for him, he still doesn’t know why the day was so special. Finally you give up, and just tell him.

“It’s valentine’s day Shiggy! I was just trying to do something special for you...But i’ve just weirded you out..” Your voice is soft and you’re not even sure how to react. You knew this would happen, and you can’t stay mad at him, he just isn’t used to this kind of thing. “It’s fine Shiggy, I love you, I just hope you enjoyed everything though..” You give him a soft smile, and gently kiss his cheek walking off.

Shigaraki thinks about what you say, and decides to go, and get you a little something. He takes Twice to the store with him to just help him out. Even though he really didn’t want to spend time with Twice. Shigaraki ends up buying a small box of chocolates, a little heart shaped balloon, and a single flower that Twice said you would like.

When getting back home he knocks on your door, of your shared bedroom, and enters without waiting for the aye okay to enter. He slowly looks up at you, and shyly hands you the gifts in hopes you’ll really like it. It may have been some quick little thing, but you’re the first person to ever show him any true love, and he really wants you to feel as special as you make him feel.

You happily accept his gifts. He kisses you with his chapped rough lips, telling you that he cares for you. Overwhelmed with joy you practically knock him over. He’s careful making sure to not rest all his fingers on you.

You two spend the rest of the night, eating junk food, and watching netflix, until eventually Shigaraki gives you the rest of his gift, which is a rather passionate night.

Dabi

He also has no idea what today is, and too be honest he could care less. To be honest it’s just another day to him. He honestly doesn’t even know what month it is, that’s how much he cares. But you clearly seem pretty excited about it.

This is basically closing in on your one year anniversary so it's your first valentine’s day together.

You barge into his room spooking him a bit, and show him the butterscotch chip heart shaped pancakes you made for him. Butterscotch chips being his lowkey favorite.

In a confused state he reluctantly takes the meal, and thanks you. He eats his food, and drinks the coffee you made him. When finishing everything, he hands it back to you. Looking into your excited eyes, with a complete state of confusion.

“Do you know what day it is?” You ask him with a more of a soft tone, so you don’t keep spooking him so much. Dabi gives you a confused look, and simply shrugs his shoulders responding with a serious. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

That honestly hurts your heart a bit but you definitely don’t let that stop you from giving him love. You hope maybe your gifts will spark something in him, to remind him what today is.

After spending all day showering him with gifts, and attention he starts to get irritated, and eventually lashes out at you. “What the hell are you doing!? Why are you giving me so many damn gifts! What do you want from me?” His flames start to emit from his body, and he watches you back up in fear.

You weren’t trying to upset him, you just wanted to show him how much you loved him. “I-I’m sorry...It’s just.. It’s Valentine’s Day! I’m sorry, I did go overboard..I hope you can forgive me..” You feel utterly embarrassed for thinking he’d like something like this. You start to gather up all the gifts you bought for him, throwing them into a bag and grabbing the receipt. You apologize once again, and leave the hideout to go return them.

Half way down the street, and he finally stops you. “Hey..Stop, I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize it was Valentine’s Day..Thank you. Thank you for the gifts little flame..” Dabi hesitantly wraps his arms around your frame, giving you a tight hug. He brings you back to the hideout, and quickly comes up with an idea. Which is, doing whatever you wanna do.

For the rest of the night he put up with you, and did everything you wanted too. He played video games with you, some card games, baked, and even watched your favorite movie, which happens to be the movie he hates the most.

To end the night off in a way he’d enjoy it, you put on your sexy Valentine day outfit. You gave him head to start the night off right, then let him have complete control. After asking for consent because he had some pretty painful things in mind, he finally started. Burning his name into your ass, and on your chest, dragging a knife down your skin, and absolutely pounding you.

Jin Bubaigawara (Twice )

Jin has been counting the days for Valentine’s Day. He was so excited, the day dedicated to love, and he can spend it with you! He’s been planning this spectacular day for the both of you for a week or two.

Jin wakes you up, and tells you he has something planned for you in the kitchen of his apartment. He leads you to the kitchen, due to the lack of money it was nothing grand but he worked hard. He poured your favorite drink into a glass cup. The table had a nice white table cloth, pillows on the chairs, a single rose in a small vase in the middle of the table. He made eggs, bacon, and a side of toast. He also lit your favorite scented candle.

Jin is so proud of himself. Pulling the chair out for you, and gently kissing your lips. “They love it!” He says softly to himself but the other side immediately saying otherwise. “No they hate they hate it!!” You gently grab his face, and plant a loving kiss to his lips.

“I absolutely love it...I really appreciate this! This is spectacular! You did amazing!” You reassure him,that you love him, and everything he’s done for you.

Finally you two sit down, and enjoy the meal he’s made. You two talk all through breakfast, making jokes, holding hands, being all cheesy and cute.

After breakfast, you both get dressed in something a little nicer than normal. Jin puts on some nice jeans, a black polo with gray horizontal stripes, and even wears your favorite cologne. You two weren’t spending a whole lot of time outside but he wouldn’t want to look homeless next to your beauty.

He takes you to a nearby small rundown shop with movies inside that you can buy. You two enter, holding each other's hands tightly. Jin always stays as close as he can too you, a way to protect you, and being near you keeps him feeling safe.

You two look through the movies, and finally he decides on a comedy, and an action movie. You decide on a cheesy romance, and a romcom. You go over your decisions with each other, too make sure you both will like them. You guys have a small feud about one of your movies. You let out a soft sigh putting it back, but Jin does feel bad because you seemed so excited for it. He grabs the movie and pays for all of them.

On your way home you two stop a vending machine getting some drinks, and some snacks before continuing your walk home.

Jin holds your hand tight walking back to the run down apartment with you by his side like always. When arriving at the apartment, he goes into a random closet pulling out all the blankets, and extra pillows he’s gotten over the years.

“Okay y/n! Now lets build a fort! Then we can get our pajamas on, and make some nachos! Oh! Oh! Or maybe even popcorn!” Jin smiles happily, and was honestly genuinely over the moon to be spending so much time with you.

It takes about two hours or more just to build the fort, between Jin fighting with himself then with you, but in the end he apologizes for starting such a petty argument over where the pillows belong.

Finally everything is set up. You both made a bunch of snacks, your favorite drinks, got all snuggled into the fort, and started to watch your movie.

You two had a wonderful night. Filled with laughs, smiles, feeding each other food, doing that cheesy linked arm then helping each other drink. You guys had a tickle fight that ended up with him on top gazing into your beautiful e/c eyes.

You look up at Jin, and gaze back into his beautiful blue eyes. “I love you so much Jin…” Your soft, and sweet voice echoing through his ears.

“I love you so much too y/n…Happy Valentine’s Day baby(girl/boy).” Jin leaned down pressing his lips gently as he could against yours.

A perfect ending to a perfect day...

Mr.Compress (Atsuhiro Sako)

Sako has known about Valentine’s day since the beginning of February. He wasn’t particular over the moon for it, but he wasn’t not looking forward to it.

Sako had planned for a nice classy dinner date with you at a very expensive restaurant. He got you this beautiful red sexy dress/suit. He bought you whatever your heart desires as well.

You never bothered to question where he got the money, you just enjoyed being spoiled so much by him. You also always did feel rather guilty though.

You were currently in your shared bedroom, getting all pretty for your boyfriend, and your special dinner date. You touched up your hair then looked up hearing the door open.

“My love..Are you ready?” Sako curiously asked, standing in a pair of black dress pants, a red button up, with a black dress vest. “You look absolutely ravishing my dear…” Sako walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He gently placed his chin upon your shoulder, smiling into the mirror. He finally took off both his mask, and his signature hat, revealing his beautiful face.

You thought your boyfriend was the cutest human in the entire world. His beautiful chocolate brown eyes, dark colored hair, his soft skin. He was perfect in your eyes.

You nod happily in response before finally speaking. “I’m all ready! I’m really excited for dinner!” You turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, tangling your slender fingers in his soft hair. “I never said it, but thank you..Thank you for buying me all these beautiful gifts. Thank you for taking the time off to spend Valentine’s day with me.” Your eyes gaze into his leaning in. You press your lips softly against his, and smile sweetly. “Alright I’m ready to go now!”

When you make it outside there’s a slick black limo just sitting there. You want to think it’s for you but you don’t want to get your hopes up, OR make Sako feel bad for not being able to get a limo.

“Mr.Atsuhiro.” The elderly man bowed out of respect, and opened up the back door to an all red limo. Your eyes practically sparkle, and you have on the biggest smile. Looking up at Sako.

You’re so stunned you can barely think, or move, or even speak. You let Sako lead you into the limo, as he’s practically even helping you sit down, and get comfy.

Sako pours both of you a glass of strawberry champagne, and hands it over to you. “A special night for a special girl/guy.” He says in his usual charming voice. The both of you clinking glasses then sipping at your alcohol.

Once arriving at your destination you're the first one out of the limo. Fixing your hair, and outfit. Sako comes out with a proud cocky smirk, and adjusting his bow tie, then brushing back his hair. You two may have managed to get a bit frisky in the back seat of the limo. Just some heavy petting, and a heated make out session.

After collecting yourselves, the both of you enter the beautiful restaurant. A well dressed waiter leading you too your table. The inside was glistening with dim lit chandeliers, tables with beautiful red table cloth, white metal chairs with a white plush seat, and to top it all off. A non scented candle in the center of the table with a single red rose.

“Oh this place is absolutely beautiful Sako..” You carefully sit down in the chair that was kindly pulled out for you. You assist by pulling the chair in with you. “This looks really expensive how-” you were sadly cut off short by Sako’s slender finger placed against your full soft pink lips.

“How many times have I told you? Do NOT worry about money. As long as I’m around you’ll never have to pay for anything ever again.” Sako slightly narrowed his eyes to show how serious he really was. You couldn’t help it though, you were always worried about how much money he spent on you. He was a villain for christ sakes, and on top of that he was part of LOV, and you doubt they make good money. Especially enough to pay for the things Sako has purchased. If he is even buying these items, and not stealing them…

“Order whatever your heart desires.” Sako said in a soft voice, pulling you from your thoughts. You nod your head ordering your favorite wine. You then order whatever you find interesting for food.

While there Sako seemed a bit distant. He was quieter then normal, at least he held your hand the whole time. Every now, and then giving your hand a slight squeeze.

After dinner, you finally decide to ask what’s wrong. “Darling..What’s on your mind? You’re quiet...Are you not having a good time?” You ask curiously, and Sako just stares at you for a moment.

“Quite the opposite. I’m having a splendid time..I just have a question for you..” Sako stood from his spot, wiping his mouth with the red cloth napkin.

Sako approaches you, gently getting down on one knee. “I was just trying to figure out when the right time to ask you this was..” Sako reaches into his pocket pulling out a black velvet box. He cracks it open, and shows off a silver band. Attached to the silver band was a huge diamond in the shape of a heart with rubies lining the silver band. “Y/n l/n...Will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs/Mr.Atsuhiro..?” Sako had a light in his eyes, a light you haven’t seen in quite some time.

Your heart nearly stops, you’re not even quite sure how to react. Your face held a baffled expression before you finally reacted. “Sako…” Your voice trailed. Sako could feel his heart sink, all eyes were on you two. Your anxiety spikes before finally you speak. “Sako..You idiot..You know I hate pda..” You whisper to him causing him to smile. “Is that a yes?” He asked curiously. “Yes..” You say softly before being overwhelmed with joy. “Of course Sako! Of course I’ll marry you!” You practically tackle him down. His arms wrap around your waist, and he squeezes you tight as everyone cheers for you two.

After getting a free dessert from the restaurant you two head on home. When arriving home he had another gift for you. Roses, and candles leading to your shared bedroom. When arriving at the bedroom he ravishes you right then, and there.

Sako held your hips tightly, as he shifted his cock, in, and out of you. His head resting next to yours, letting out heavy hot breaths against your neck. “F-Fuck~ I love you so much Mrs/Mr.Astushiro..~” Sako rammed himself deep inside you earning a loud moan to emit from your throat. “Oh god! I love you Mr.Astushiro!” You cry out, reaching your climax.

#mha dabi #mha shigaraki #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #dabi fanfic #one shot #gender neutral reader #mr. compress #jin bubaigawara #bnha twice #tomurashigaraki #mha x gender neutral reader #my hero academia x gender neutral reader #atsuhiro sako

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dreamingofmilk · 5 years ago

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Sugar Babe Chapter 4

We’re back y’all!

Masterlist:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Texts

Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Texts

Word Count: 3,018

Synopsis: Things are spicing up with our favorite duo

Warnings: slight smut

Luxury.

Never before have you been introduced to such nice things. Even when you travelled with Erik before for smaller trips, the hotels were nice but they weren’t this nice. Hell most of the time you had to get in a smelly ass taxi to get to the hotel.

But not here, here the two of you were picked up in the nicest car you’ve seen on the road and taken to the nicest hotel you’ve seen in your life. You felt like Queen Latifah in The Last Holiday, and you had to try your hardest not to gawk at the beautiful ceilings. You clenched your jaw to keep from gasping at the stunning interior decor that the hotel had.

The wife of Erik Stevens could not gawk at some really nice ceramic tiles. She had to act like she’d seen it ten times before!

However the wife of Erik Stevens did drop her jaw when she saw the very polite hotel concierge guy hand her fake husband two room keys for one room. A room that you really hoped had two beds in it. Though the smirk on Erik’s face told you otherwise.

“What the fuck Erik?” You mumbled as soon as you stepped on the private elevator for the top floors. Erik smiled and crowded you into a corner of the elevator.

“What?” He says innocently as he gently wraps a piece of your curly hair around his thick index finger.

“I know I booked us two rooms.” You stare accusingly up into his eyes. He smiles wickedly at you and bends down to press a kiss to the back of your ear before speaking.

“We have a job to do here. If they saw that my wife took a separate room, especially a lower grade room than I, they might think there’s trouble in paradise and we can’t have that can we?” You rolled your eyes at how right he was. You hated when Erik was right about things you had already decided on. It proved to you that maybe he didn’t need you and you hated that idea.

You let out a loud moan completely by surprise when Erik bit down on the soft skin underneath your ear.

“I asked you a question. Y/N.” He sucked on the skin underneath your ear, hard. You tried to keep your panting down to a minimum but it was hard, especially when he gripped your hips to pull them closer to him.

You sighed in relief when the elevator finally dinged on the appropriate floor. You gently pushed him out of the way and reached into his front suit pants pocket to pull out one of the room keys. You walked calmly down the hallway to check the room numbers until you found the room. Quickly you put the key in before Erik could stand behind you. Your luggage was already stacked neatly to the side. As you walked into the large main area you quickly realized the hotel suite looked just as amazing as the lobby did. You quickly dropped your purse on the sleek black modern couch and made a beeline for the bedroom. Your fingers crossed that two beds would be waiting for you to claim one.

Your heart sank to your stomach, when you saw only one bed, to their credit, it was massive, but definitely not the two beds that you wanted. There was no way you’d be able to handle sleeping in the same bed with that man, hell you two could barely stay in the same room without him finding a reason to touch you.

“You did this on purpose.” You turn around to glare at him. Erik walked into the room and nodded in approval with a smirk forming on his face.

“Nah. Definitely asked for two beds because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Erik sat in the lavish chair next to the window. His legs spread wide, his stance inviting.

“Yeah right.” You scoff and glance around the immaculate bathroom.

“I did. I told them we needed an extra bed in case we break the first one.”

You cut your eyes towards him, disbelief taking over your features as Erik’s laugh boomed through the entire space. Erik swung his legs back and forth as he chuckled under his breath. He leaned over and picked up the local guide.

“Chill. It’ll be fine. I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s big enough.” Erik smiled and flipped through the guide.

“You can’t sleep on the couch Erik you paid for the room.” You sat down quietly across from him.

“Correction the company paid for the room, so WE worked for this room. I paid for the clothes I bought you. So when they get ripped off you won’t complain.” You gawked at him in response. The man had absolutely no chill! Erik smirked at your reaction. “Baby girl you’re going to quit making them damn faces or I’ll give you a better reason to make them.”

You glared at him, “Erik stop! You play too much!”

He shook his head, a bit of fire in his eyes, “And that’s what you don’t seem to understand Y/N. I’m not playing with you. Not a damn bit. But you are definitely playing with me and I’ll be damned if I keep allowing it. Since you want to keep acting scared things are going to change around here.”

You shook your head, “What the hell are you-”

He clenched his jaw, his frustration clear. “Interrupt me again. See what happens.” He waited a moment to see if you would, and honestly part of you wanted to just to see what he would do about it. But you knew that it would just end with both of you on the bed and you weren’t ready for that, so you backed down. You knew better than to egg this man on. Once he realized that you weren't going to challenge him he smirked. “Hmm, obedient, I can do some things with that.”

You couldn’t fight the heat that rushed to your cheeks. He was nasty! You huffed and stepped away from him.

“I’m gonna unpack and check out the pool.” You turned away from him, reaching up to untie your hair from the long trip. You pulled one of your suitcases into the closet and started unpacking your clothes. Erik walked in and started to unpack his clothes as well.

“I didn’t pack you any swimsuits though. Didn’t take you for a lounge by the pool sort of girl.” Erik shrugged as he hung up his blue dress shirt. “We can go buy you some more. I’d love to see you try them on.” He winked at you and smiled.

“Why are you like this?” You huffed and grabbed your swimsuit from the bag. “I packed my own. I have some money you know. There’s a thing called stashed cash that credit stealers can’t get to.”

Erik clenched his jaw.

“Why would you spend the cash that you have? What if you need it for emergencies? What about the card I gave you?” He approached you menacingly, his height towering over you.

“I used it for my rent like you said to. Why would I use it for anything else?” You responded calmly. Seeing Erik like this over money was normal for you. But what you didn’t realize was the difference this time had, was you.

“Use it for everything. I’m not arguing with you. Save your cash for something important.”

You struggled not to roll your eyes. Erik always got his way, and you weren’t going to be the one to stop him this time.

“Okay DAD. Jeez. I’m gonna go to the pool and use it to buy myself some drinks. You know relax a little before I really have to commit to being married to your demanding ass.”

And of course Erik being Erik, he had to get the last word in. “Yeah, I’m daddy alright. You're gonna find out real soon, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked into the bathroom and changed into your bikini and cover up. Though you usually didn’t wear one, you’d rather avoid Erik’s perverted gaze.

“Okay I’ll be back.” You grab your towel, make sure your engagement rings are on, and new designer flip flops and bounce out of the room, excited to explore the hotel.

——

After floating around in the hotel's second rooftop pool, you decide to head to the bar to get the cold alcoholic drink you’d been dying for in this heat. You ask the bartender for the drink that you want, then reach into your pool bag to pull out the card Erik gave you. You stop short when you see cash slid across the table in front of you.

You turn to the guy next to you to thank him, to assure him that you can pay for yourself. You stop yourself in your tracks making eye contact with a very handsome man. A bashful smile comes over your face.

“Thank you. But I can pay for myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to though. A beautiful girl like yourself, shouldn’t even be alone.”

“Awe you’re sweet but I’m not alone.” You flashed your ring and smiled proudly.

“Damn that’s too bad. All the cute ones are always taken.” The man sticks out his hand. “I’m Jordan by the way. I own quite a bit of real estate out here. I’m in accounting too. Call me if you’re ever looking to get something out here. I’ll hook you up.”

A polite smile crosses your face as you take his card. A frown quickly replaces it as another hand snatches the card before it’s completely in your hand.

“Babygirl, did you get your drink?” You look up to see the wickedest smile on Erik’s face, his eyes bright with anger. His almost naked chest covered with nothing more than a muscle tee. You look down to see him in swim trunks, a smile crossing your face at the thought of him playing around in the pool with you.

“Almost babe. They are making it now.” You nodded to the bartender who was putting the finishing touches on your drink. Your mouth watered at the thought of it. You were so focused on the drink you didn’t even notice the hard stare Erik was giving Jordan until he cleared his throat.

“Sorry baby, this is Jordan, a real estate agent. Jordan, this is my bos-“ you felt Erik pinch your thigh, hard. You felt your cheeks heat up as you realized your mistake. “I’m sorry my husband. He can be a bit bossy.” You tried to save it but the curious look on Jordan’s face told you otherwise.

“Nice to meet you. She’s loyal, wouldn’t even let me buy her a drink.” Jordan smirked as he shook Erik’s hand. Erik wrapped his arm around you tightly, his hand resting gently under your breast.

“Yeah well she has the card I just gave her so there’s no reason for that.” Erik pressed a kiss to your neck as you sipped on the delicious drink placed in front of you. You squealed in response to his touch almost dropping your drink. You turn to Erik to scold him when you see his stare is still on Jordan. Quickly you realize you need to diffuse the situation.

“Babe you have to try this. It tastes so good.” You thrust the straw of the drink towards his lips demanding he take a sip. He sips the drink and smiles at you.

“Of course you’d get the fruitiest drink there is.” You smile cheekily at Erik and relish in the tight hold he has you in. Then glance back up at Jordan.

“Erik, Jordan said he sells real estate, maybe he could find you another place if everything goes right?” You glance back at Jordan who watches the two of you with a smile on his face.

“Sure. I have his card.” Erik waves down the waiter to close out your tab.

“Let’s go back to the room. I have another drink I wanna taste. It was nice meeting you Jamie.” You snorted at how petty he was acting.

“Jordan, baby, his name is Jordan.” Erik shrugged “That’s what I said.” Once you realized what all he said earlier you balked at his words, staring up at him wide eyed. You watch Jordan frown slightly and move away with his drink. Then you pout, wrapping your lips around your drink again.

“I wanna swim some more. And you're dressed for it come in the water with me.” You pout more and lightly grip the collar of his shirt.

“Y/N that was too close! We are fucking lucky that man was way too into you to notice that you weren’t that into me. I mean boss really?” You sigh and put your head down embarrassed. You know you fucked up and at this rate you might ruin the whole deal for the company and that thought was too much for you to bear.

“I know Erik I’m sorry. I’ll get better I promise.” You grip his shirt tighter. “Please don’t be upset with me. Let me practice right now.” You turn to wrap your arms around his neck and press a few kisses to his scruff. Your legs spread to accommodate him standing between them.

“I can do it. I won’t let you down. I won’t let the company down.” You pull his head down to level with yours before you press a passionate kiss into his lips. Getting lost in the feel of his skin against yours. Your tongue danced along the bottom of his full lip. You let out a soft moan when his hands enter the equation again. The man was freaking gifted.

A child screaming broke the spell between the two of you and you pulled away, embarrassed to be making out in public like a couple of teenagers.

Erik smirked, “Keep kissing me like that and I’ll do whatever you want.” He grabbed your hand and led you both toward the pool. He quickly jumped in with no fear of the cold water. You were much more cautious and dipped your toes in to get a feel for the water. Even though you’d just been in there the cold shock was intense. You’d definitely have to ease your way in.

“Baby!” Erik called to you. “What are you doing? Hop in!” You looked up at him and it felt like your heart skipped a beat. Erik had taken off his shirt and his skin glistened in the water. There’s no way his body could be real. You honestly couldn’t look away if you wanted to.

Erik swam to the edge of the pool, right in front of you and lightly grabbed your ankle. “C’mon.”

You shook your head, half of your brain committing the look on Erik’s face to memory. “It’s too cold. I need to slowly work my way in.” Erik ran his hands further up your leg, to the backs of your knees. He looked up into your eyes with a soft smile on his face. “You’re always so cautious, Y/N. Just jump in, just this once. I’ll catch you and ease you in the water.”

You scoffed, “There’s no way. I am not some small little thing Erik. You’re going to drop me.” Erik rolled his eyes. “Last I checked I’ve picked you up a few times and have I ever struggled to do it?” Bastard had a point. He’s never even shown any strain.

You sighed, there was really no way out of this. “Ok fine, but if you drop me…” Erik’s smile was so bright that you felt a rush of heat to your cheeks. What was this man doing to you? You took a few steps back then after a few deep breaths and Erik's quiet encouragement you jumped in. As promised he caught you before the water passed your hips. You shivered slightly as he held you above him, his laugh ringing through your ears.

"See baby? Things are a lot more fun when you aren't so cautious." He slowly lowered you in the water, watching your face and slowing down when you reacted to the cold water. Once you were at eye level you felt the energy shift around you. Erik had a strange look on his face, one you'd never seen before. He stared directly at you, his eyes bouncing between your eyes and your lips. He pulled you in closer to him and you closed your eyes anticipating the kiss.

When your lips finally met it felt a bit different, like a warm bath or a home cooked meal. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he deepened the kiss. You fought back a moan when he started nibbling at your bottom lip. You could feel yourself getting drunk off the feeling of it, completely unaware of your surroundings. Just as you were about to wrap your legs around him he pulled away and lowered you the rest of the way into the water. You looked up into his eyes, trying to figure out what to say that would break the tension in the air, but you were at a loss.

Erik smiled softly and brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “I did say things were going to change around here princess. I’m not playing games anymore.” Erik slightly splashed you and swam away quickly, you started off quickly hot on his trail. But your mind wandered back to what he just said. What the hell did that mean?

Nearby, Jordan smirked as he exited the pool deck. Who would have thought the great Erik Stevens would have to fake a marriage, and with one of his employees at that? This would definitely be useful information later on. Plus the girl on his arm was so damn tempting, he would be seeing a lot more of the both of them, that’s for sure.

Taglist:

@chaneajoyyy @wawakanda-btch @aislinnsilver @marvelmaree @ljstraightnochaser @raysunshine78 @fdwrites @soufcakmistress @girlsneedlovingfanfics @toniilaney @amira88 @bugngiz

#avengers fanfiction #erik kilmonger x reader #imagines #milk fic #milky fics #erikxreader #Erik Killmonger

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Riding High

Ch16: Roast Beef, Cake and Ponies

Chapter Summary: It’s Mary’s birthday…and Evelyn is back in town.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+).

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: A nice, fluffy chapter for Friss after the heartache of the last one!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 15

"How does the Waldorf Astoria grab you?" Frank asked, looking up from the screen he had open on his phone.

Fliss, who was busy at the dining table with her nose buried in diagrams and goodness knows what else she had spread over the surface for lesson planning, glanced over to where he was sat on the new sofa, watching her over the back of it.

"What?"

"For New York"

"Frank, I'm not following you, babe…"

"I said we were gonna go this December. Take Mary for the snow." He looked at her, "did you forget?"

"Actually I did..." she said with a chuckle as she dropped the pen she was holding "but that aside, it's only just gone May!"

"Yeah but I was talking to Simon and he says it gets booked up pretty quickly so thought I'd start looking.” He shrugged "There’s a pretty good offer on at the Waldorf. Start of December, Thursday to a Sunday…taking her outta school shouldn’t be a problem…”

He stood up and made his way over and handed her the phone, leaning over her from behind with his palms flat on the table as she scanned the info. He glanced down and saw her face split into a smile.

"It’s a dream isn’t it?" She turned her head to look at him. "To go to New York and stay in the Plaza or here..."

"Shall I book it? He asked and she bit her lip and gave a little nod. With a smile he took the phone from her and dropped a kiss to her lips.

"How much is it?" she asked

"Doesn’t matter..."

"Frank..."

"Fliss..." he mimicked her and she rolled her eyes and Frank met her look with one of his own, raising an eyebrow watching her carefully. Since their bare all conversation a few weeks ago, things had been a little different between the pair of them. Not bad different, quite the opposite. Fliss seemed less tentative towards certain things now, she didn’t try to hide the way she was feeling when certain things made her uncomfortable and Frank didn’t get or feel as frustrated when she thanked him or praised him for doing things that to him didn’t warrant it.

Greg had been amazing, not that Frank had expected anything else, and been nothing but patient and sympathetic with Fliss. He’d written the Victim Impact statement for her, taken her through it, listened and made the amendments she wanted before he’d filed it on her behalf, assuring her that her part in the process was now over and there was nothing more she could do. That in itself had been a huge weight off Fliss’ shoulders, and she admitted to Frank that the thought of John getting out made her more angry than scared, which Frank was secretly pleased about. He didn’t want her to be scared, at all.

It had been the first big hurdle their relationship had reached, and Frank was both relieved and pleased to see they’d made it through, and although he didn’t think it had been possible, he felt even closer to her now. And he wanted to spoil her. Just because he could. And because she fucking deserve it.

“Come on, let me treat you…" he coaxed, and when she gave him a small smile he mimicked her, knowing he’d won her round.

"Ok." She said smiling "but I'm paying for our take out tonight."

"Deal."

Frank straightened up, phone clutched in his hand as he headed over the drawer in the kitchen that held his wallet. Grabbing his card he leaned on the unit, keying in the information the website booking form required and a few minutes later it was done.

"All booked" he smiled and she looked at him. "We fly out at 10:25 the Thursday morning, home at 15:45 on the Sunday..."

"Why do they always have stupid times like that?" Fliss asked "like 10:25...why not 10:30?"

Frank shrugged "No idea."

Fliss paused and then gave a little squeak and pushed her chair back before she skipped over to him and threw herself into his arms. With a chuckle he caught her, hands wrapping around her back.

"New York, in the run up to Christmas!" She beamed as he kissed her softly. "I can’t believe it"

"Well you better as I'm gonna need to get some warm clothes...for the first time in years." He mused and Fliss laughed as her feet hit the floor again.

“We can get matching shit Christmas sweaters with huge reindeers or something else equally as gaudy on the front.” she grinned.

“No.” Frank shook his head

“Oh come on…” Fliss teased. “You wear hideous shirts all the time, what’s the difference? Or would you prefer a jumper with a giant palm tree or a yacht on it instead?” “Fuck you.” He shot back and she gave a loud laugh, her head falling back slightly before she recovered and grinned at him.

"Gonna tell Mary?" She asked and he nodded.

"On her birthday. Can be part of her present."

"What can?" The girl asked.

"Well if I told you that it wouldn't be a surprise would it?" Frank looked at her.

"Guess not." Mary shrugged. "What time are we seeing Evelyn tomorrow?"

"Lunch time" Frank said.

“And then after you gonna come help me with Monty?” Fliss looked at Mary.

Mary nodded “Is his leg better?” “Almost.” Fliss assured her. “He needs another week or so rest I think. But I think his days as a riding school pony are over.” “Are you still going to have to rehome him?” Mary’s voice dropped at little and Fliss took a deep breath.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to, but he can’t cope with doing lessons every day. It would be nice for him to get a home with a family who can love him has a pet and just ride him a few times a week…but I’ll see.” “You ready to go to Roberta’s?” Frank looked at Mary and she perked up a little and nodded. “Ok, I’ll walk you down.”

“Night Lissy!” Mary grinned, heading over to give her a hug before they both headed out of the door.

Fliss looked down at her plans and then deciding she was done, gathered them all up and stuck them back in her folder, clearing the table. She really did need to give some more thought to what she was going to do with Monty. She had a soft spot for the animal but knew that he wasn’t going to be able to cope with the pressures of being a riding school pony anymore. The thing was, at almost nineteen he was still sprightly and far too active to be put out to pasture. The kindest thing to do would be to find a home for him, a little boy or a little girl to love him as a pet…and then it came to her. A simple solution, that was a win-win for everyone involved.

Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

“Hell no!” was Frank’s response when she ambushed him with her idea the minute he walked in the door, flopping onto the sofa next to him. “Absolutely fucking not!”

“Oh come on!” Fliss looked at him. “It won’t cost anything.” “You said yourself you can’t afford stables to be clogged up.” “We can build him a smaller one, round the back on the end of my private block.” Fliss shrugged

“By we, you mean me…” “And Dad.”

Frank sighed “You’d still be out of pocket…you already refuse to take money for her lessons as it is.” “Yeah, because your my boyfriend and I’m not taking money off you for Mary’s lessons.” “Exactly, so how much would you be missing out on if you were renting the stable to someone else? And don’t lie as I’ll look it up on your website.” Frank shot her a look.

“For a pony his size, about Forty-bucks a week, but it doesn’t cost me that. Anyway, it doesn’t matter as I’m not I’m not gonna be taking money off you for her pony!” “It’s not her pony.” Frank rolled his eyes.

“No, but he could be…” Fliss grinned.

“Fucks sake…” Frank groaned.

“That a yes?”

“No, it’s a for fucks sake. You’re exasperating at times.”

She paused for a moment before she bit her lip and crawled across him, straddling his lap, grinning as he looked up at her, eyebrows raised.

“Is it a yes yet?” she asked, rolling her pelvis down, making his breath hitch as he felt the familiar arousal blooming in his crotch.

“Are you seriously trying to seduce me into letting you give Mary a pony?” he snorted.

“Is it working?”

“No…”

“Really?” she asked. “Because the bulge in your pants is telling me otherwise.” “Stop it.” he warned her.

“Stop what?” She asked, rolling her hips again.

“I mean it Lissy…” his voice was low.

She did it again, and he took a deep breath before he quickly pivoted them so she was led underneath him, causing her to shriek in surprise. She grinned up at him before his lips crashed onto hers. Fliss wrapped her arms round his neck as his hands crept to her hips, settling just under the hem of her top as she placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw through his short beard. She broke away this time to breathe, head resting on the arm of the couch and he dropped his head, pausing his lips inches from her neck.

“You gonna shut up about the damned pony?” he asked.

“No.” she said stubbornly.

“Alright…” Frank sighed, and she gave a little giggle as he pressed his mouth to her neck. He gripped her hips again and they gave a little jerk of their own accord, pushing up against him and they both groaned slightly at the contact. At the noise Frank pulled back to stare at her again.

“Gonna shut up yet?” “Make me.” she teased, pushing her head upwards, lips crashing onto his and her hands slid under his t- shirt. His muscles twitched under her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails caused him to groan as desire lanced through his entire body like red hot pokers.

“Oh, sweetheart…challenge accepted…” he muttered he grasped the bottom of her top. She moved her arms and sat up slightly as he pulled it up over her head, her hair falling around her shoulders, his lips catching hers as he gently slipped one strap of her bra down at a time placing a soft kiss on each of her shoulders. Her breasts spilled over the tops of the cups and his groin twitched, the crotch of his jeans now painfully tight. Her hands moved to the hem of his T-shirt and he held his arms for her to yank it off. Once he was free he kissed her again his rough hands gently sliding up her rib cage to her chest, delicately squeezing and kneading the soft flesh and white lace, before his hand slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs. She groaned gently, arching her back as his groin bumped against hers. He was gently at first, before his rocking became harder, and Fliss buried her fingers in his hair, pulling, hard, forcing his head back sharply. As she tugged he let out a low growl and when she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking as she watched him, his pupils blown so wide there was hardly any blue left.

The rhythm of his hips was growing more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate. "More," she moaned into his mouth, and he obliged in the best of way moving his hips even faster, rubbing against her through the barrier of their clothes in ways that had her clutching at his back like her life depended on it. As he continued to rub against her, pushing her into the soft cushions of the sofa, it wasn’t long before the tell-tale tightening across his lower stomach warned him he was fast approaching his release

"Lissy, tell me your close baby, please?" Frank begged because of course he wanted to get her there first. He had to smirk at the fact he’d finally shut her up, as it was all she could do to moan brokenly, her words no longer forming coherently, and she gave a nod as his mouth fell to that spot on her neck which drove her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more thrusts of his hips against hers and she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair as the lights exploded in front her eyes and she felt the coil in her stomach unravelling as she came hard underneath him, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Frankie…”

He loved it when she called him that, her name for him, the name that no-one called him other than her. It tumbled from her lips so easily, and seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy. His head dropped to the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair as they both breathed deeply as they waited to regain control of their bodies. Eventually both of them evened out and he raised his head to look at her, to find her smirking a little, her eyes twinkling with what looked like humour.

“What?” he managed to ask, his nose sliding against hers.

“So, about Monty…”

“For fucks…fine, she can have the damned pony.” he groaned, dropping his head to her chest and she grinned, as one of her hands ran up and down his spine causing the muscles in his back and shoulders to gently twitch at her touch.

“I’m starving.” she said, as he raised his head to look at her.

“I’ll order food.” he said, “Then I think I should probably shower before it arrives…seeing as I just shot my load in my pants like a fourteen year old kid.”

“I’ll go start it running.” she bit her lip and he grinned at her as he pushed himself up off the couch before offering her his hand. She took it and he pulled her up, dropping a kiss to her forehead as his gaze once more dropped to her chest. With a certain glint in her eye she turned around and sauntered to the doorway before she stopped, and turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Best hurry before I use all the hot water.”

As she walked off down the hall, her hips swaying slightly, Frank was hard again like it had never left. Grabbing his phone he ordered the food before he shot off to join her.

***** “Evelyn.” he greeted his mother as she stood up from the table she was sat at which was outside the back of the small café bar, overlooking the beach.

“Hello Frank, hello Mary.” she greeted them both.

“Hi.” Mary smiled, settling into a seat and Frank took the one next to her. After an awkward moment of small talk, the waitress arrived and Frank ordered himself a beer and a soda for Mary, Evelyn taking an ice tea.

“So, how have you been?” Evelyn asked, her question directed to Mary, which was fine by Frank.

“Good.” Mary said and she launched into an explanation of everything that had happened in her life since she had last seen Evelyn as Frank had taken her home from Tampa. Frank was listening, vaguely, simply observing how easy Mary found it to simply forgive and forget everything that had happened. But then again, she was merely eight years old (well, as of tomorrow anyway) and that was the beauty and innocence that came with childhood he supposed.

“And then we moved into the new house.” Mary said as their drinks arrived. ”Fliss stays with us a lot, she practically lives with us now…Frank says she will do properly at some point but not yet.”

“You moved?” Evelyn looked at Frank who nodded.

“Part of the conditions of me getting Guardianship.” he said simply.

“Have you moved far or…” “It’s on the same park as our old one but it’s bigger” Mary answered for him. “My room is awesome, it’s blue and I have a cabin bed with a desk underneath it and a big TV.” “Still fixing boats?” Evelyn asked and Frank rolled his eyes.

“Mother.” “I’m just asking.” she held her hands up.

“Yes, I am. But I’m working for someone now. A friend of Fliss’ dad, he has a repair-shop attached to a sales place. Good wage, health insurance.” he added, unable to stop himself and he saw his mother’s mouth twitch.

“I’m impressed. I never thought I’d see the day”

At that point, Mary announced she was hungry and the three of them studied the menus, before Mary decided on a cheeseburger and fries. Frank opted for a steak hoagie whilst Evelyn went for a salad

“How long are you in town for?” Frank asked her as soon as their order was taken

“Until Monday…” Evelyn said “I thought, if it’s ok that is, that maybe I could take you all to dinner tomorrow for Mary’s birthday”

Ok, so that was unexpected.

“We can’t.” Mary said “We’re going to Verity’s like we do every Sunday. That’s Fliss’ mom.” she explained “We play in the pool and then she does a big Sunday dinner and makes ice cream sundaes or pies…but tomorrow she’s doing me a special birthday cake.”

“That sounds very nice.” Evelyn replied

“You should come. Roberta is….” Mary added.

Oh, for fucks sake…

“Mary…” Frank began but she turned and shrugged at him, recognising his warning tone.

“What? Verity says it’s my special birthday dinner so I could pick what I wanted to eat and I could bring someone…”

“Yeah and you chose to take Roberta…” Frank looked at her “Verity already does enough for you…”

“It’s okay.” Evelyn said, hastily cutting him off. “Thank you for the invite Mary but, well let’s see shall we?”

The rest of the afternoon was reasonably pleasant, well as pleasant as it could be. Mary told Evelyn all about what she was doing at School and then Evelyn filled Frank in a little bit on what she’d been doing with Diane’s work. Frank could tell she was surprised when he told her he’d been following the process on the internet, and when the time came to say goodbye, he promised he’d call her and arrange for her to be able to see Mary at least for some time tomorrow so she could give her the gifts she had bought.

Frank drove them to the yard and Mary shot out as soon as the truck had stopped, barrelling round the corner to go and see Monty. Fliss was busy teaching in the paddock and Frank spotted that Bill was in the Office, already screwing up one of the shelves that Frank had made ready to put up.

“Hey Bill.” he said, “You know I was gonna do that…” “Oh it’s no bother.” Bill smiled, “I’ve been fixing the door on the back barn anyway so…” “I was gonna do that too.” Frank chuckled.

“Yeah, well I told Fliss to stop asking you.” Bill shrugged, marking a spot on the wall to fix the bracket to “You work enough, weekends should be free.” Frank smiled, and then stepped forward to help Bill hold up the wooden plank whilst he made sure it was straight.

“How did it go with your mother?” Bill asked.

“Surprisingly okay.” Frank said “She was reasonable and seemed genuinely interested in how Mary was doing.” “She in town long?” “Until Monday. “Frank said.

“She coming to dinner tomorrow?” Bill asked, and Frank frowned, his head cocking to one side.

“You been talking to Mary by any chance?” “No, how can I?” Bill asked, looking at him “You just got here.” “Fair point.” Frank conceded.

“Why do you ask?” “Because that’s exactly what Mary did. Invited her. Thankfully Evelyn was tactful enough to put her off but…” “You should let her come.” Bill said.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.” Frank shook his head.

“Why?” Bill pressed.

“I just…” Frank took a deep breath “Her seeing Mary is one thing, integrating herself in to our lives is another.”

“Can I give you a bit of advice son?” Bill looked at him, and when Frank didn’t protest he continued “Don’t cut your nose off to spite your face. I know you owe her nothing, but if she’s reaching out here. Maybe think about giving it a whirl, test how serious she actually is and take the olive branch. That or look at it as giving her enough rope to hang herself. Either way, you win.” Frank didn’t really have an answer. And he didn’t until much later that evening when they were all sat outside the back of Bill and Verity’s with a few drinks.

And, of course, when he asked Verity if she minded accommodating one more person, she assured him she didn’t.

**** Naturally Mary was up at the crack of dawn the following morning, unwrapping a pile of gifts that Frank and Fliss had bought her. Some books, DVDs, new clothes, a pair of new sneakers and then after breakfast Frank took her out into the yard where she squealed when she spotted the new blue and pink BMX she’d asked him for. After she donned her helmet and did a few rides up and down the drive, demanding to know how long she’d need stabilisers for, Fliss emerged from the annex, Thor at her feet and gave Frank a wink.

“Mary, Joanna just called…” she said “I need to pop up to the stables for an hour. Wanna come?” “Yeah!” She grinned, and immediately set off biking back towards the house.

Frank announced that he’d come too and Mary didn’t’ give it a second thought. They drove to the yard and climbed out, Mary shooting off straight to see Monty.

Frank took Fliss’ hand in his as they followed, and finally caught up with her as she was stood, her mouth hanging open at the fact that Monty’s door had a huge Happy Birthday banner on it, and the white pony wore a bow around his neck. He turned his head to face them, completely nonplussed by all the fuss.

“I don’t…why is he…” Mary turned to Fliss then looked at Frank and then back to the pony “Is he wishing me happy birthday?” “Kind of.” Fliss said, smiling. “Open the card.” She grabbed the card that was tacked to the door and her eyes roved the writing inside. Immediately they widened and filled with tears as she looked up at the two adults in front of her.

“He’s mine?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded, a lump forming in his own throat at the sight of how happy she was.

“For real?”

“For real.” he assured her.

“Like, really? Mine? No one else is sharing him anymore?” “No one else.” Frank shook his head.

She gave a loud squeal and threw herself at Frank, wrapping her arms around his legs. “Thank you!” “Happy birthday Stack.” he smiled, bending down to hug her back.

“You’re the best uncle ever…” “Makes a change.” he muttered, “And this was Fliss’ idea…you have her to thank.”

“Took me ages to persuade him…” Fliss grinned and Frank snorted, as Mary moved over and gave Fliss a huge hug

“You’re the best too.” she smiled, before the attention turned back to her new pet.

They spent an hour or so at the yard, Mary doing her first jobs as Monty’s owner, mucking his stable out, grooming him, filling his hay net up. Eventually they dragged her away after Fliss and Frank both assured her now that she had her pony she could come after school three nights a week and then both days at weekends to take care of him and ride when she wanted to. They picked Roberta up on the way home, and then once Mary had unwrapped her gift from Roberta which was another large lego set much to her delight, the three adults sat outside with a beer, Mary scribbling away in the new journal they’d bought her, no doubt writing about Monty, and then Frank received a call from his mother to tell him she was at the gate.

Fliss, Roberta and Mary headed over to the main house whilst Frank walked down to collect Evelyn. He didn’t miss the appraising look she was taking at the property as they walked back down the drive, Frank taking the bag of gifts off Evelyn politely. He introduced her to Bill, who was stood outside with Mary admiring her bike, and then Frank led her into the large entrance area of the old farmhouse.

Once the ‘pleasantries’, if you could call them that were over and Evelyn had met Verity and been handed a glass of wine, they all headed out onto the raised decking that overlooked the pool.

“This is…nice.” Evelyn said, as she took in the surroundings “I expected something different.” “In what way?” Verity asked, and Frank didn’t miss the way the woman bristled as his mother’s tone.

“Oh, just, well, seeing where Frank lives…”

“Excuse me?” Verity looked at the woman, frowning.

“What my mother means…” Frank butt in, glaring at Evelyn “is thank you for inviting her over.”

“Yes, I didn’t mean anything by it, I haven’t actually seen Frank’s new place yet.” Evelyn smiled, the expression not meeting her eyes “And, thank you of course.” “I didn’t invite you.” Verity shrugged “Mary did. And as it’s my little pud’s birthday who am I to argue…speaking of which, where is she?”

“Here!” Mary said, running out of the house, Bill following “I was just showing Bill my new bike!” she ran to Verity and gave her a hug and Verity smiled, wrapping her arms around her.

It didn’t escape Frank’s notice the way his mother was watching the pair of them, as Mary pulled back and asked if she could go in the pool.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” Bill cut in. “Well, that’s what my nose is telling me anyway. Maybe later.”

“On a full stomach?” Evelyn looked at Frank “is that really a good idea?”

“Hasn’t killed her yet.” Verity shot back. And Evelyn turned her eyes to the woman again.

There was a moment’s frosty silence, and Fliss turned her eyes to her dad, begging him to help. And he did. “Shall we go in?” Bill asked, “Someone has presents to open!” “Oh, yes!” Verity smiled, frostiness completely gone “Come on!”

Mary gave a squeal and Bill laughed, swinging her up easily onto his shoulders as the 3 of them headed up the steps. Frank followed behind, falling into step with his mother as Fliss hung back slightly, turning to Roberta when the woman spoke to her.

“Remind me who thought this was gonna be a good idea?”

Five minutes or so later, the Gallagher living room was on its way to being a mass of shredded wrapping paper, Mary sat in the middle of another pile of gifts which were from Bill and Verity, and also Evelyn. Evelyn had brought Mary some new Maths books, which Frank refrained from rolling his eyes at, and then Mary opened her mouth.

“I don’t read a lot of maths books now in my spare time, we’re reading Harry Potter.” she mused. “We’re on the fourth one now.”

“But they’ll be good for school.” Frank looked at her sternly.

“Yes, thank you Evelyn.” Mary corrected herself. Evelyn smiled and told her she was welcome, as Mary moved on to the next set, which Frank was surprised to see was a pile of seven Leather bound Children’s classics.

“I bought your mother something similar when she was your age.” Evelyn explained “I thought you might like them.” Mary’s eyes widened as she ran her hands over the cover of “Black Beauty” and looked up at Evelyn. “I do, thank you.” Evelyn had also placed a few hundred dollars in her card for her to spend on whatever she wanted, which she grinned at and informed everyone she was going to be spending it on new things for Monty.

“Who’s Monty?” Evelyn asked.

“My pony!” Mary grinned “Fliss and Frank gave him to me this morning.”

Evelyn’s eyebrows raised slightly and she smiled “How nice…”

“Did you ever have a pony?” Mary asked.

“No.” Evelyn said, “But Frank and your mother’s Step-Father now has several.” Frank smiled, shaking his head slightly, the thought of that still amused him.

“Does he show jump?” Mary pressed.

“I believe he does western riding.” Evelyn shrugged “Although I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Mary nodded, taking the information in before she looked at Fliss “We should do Western Riding.”

“One day, maybe.” Fliss mused “I mean I do have the boots and the hat…”

Mary nodded “Yup, you do…” before she reached over to Bill and Verity’s pile, picking out the longest one. Her eyes widened as she unwrapped the box, and glanced up at Fliss before she pulled the lid off and removed one of the long De-Niro riding boots. They were patent snake-skin effect leather, with a band of pink glitter around the tops.

“They’re…” Mary’s mouth flopped open “They’re like yours but pink!” she looked at Fliss, then turned to Bill and Verity.

“Fliss told us you liked hers.” Verity beamed at her. “So now you have your own pair.” After a scramble, during which Frank told her to calm down about fifty times, she soon had them on and Frank helped her with the zips as they were still a little stiff.

“You’ll need to wear them in like you did with your short ones.” Fliss said, “But these are ONLY for riding in. Use your other ones for yard work and stuff.”

“Damned girl!” Robert grinned as Mary did a cat walk of sorts, strutting down the centre of the room “Think I should get myself a pair…” “You don’t’ ride!” Mary gave Roberta a withering look.

“No but they’d look good with some jeans.”

As Mary began to point out to Roberta that she was being ridiculous, Frank looked at Bill raising an eyebrow. He knew exactly how much those boots had cost, as he had been looking into getting her a pair himself but then she’d told him she wanted a bike.

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in telling you off for how much you’ve spent on those is there?” he asked.

“Nope.” Bill smirked “Don’t suppose there is.”

“She’s worth it.” Verity smiled.

Mary flopped down and opened the rest of her gifts which consisted of her own copies of the Harry Potter films on DVD and some vouchers for the Tack Shop and a book about horse breeds.

“Thank you!” she said, smiling as she stood up and launched at Bill who gave her a hug before she moved to Verity.

“You’re very welcome Pudding!” Verity smiled, brushing her hair back. “Now, someone said something about wanting a roast beef dinner!”

“Can I help?” Mary asked.

“Of course you can.” Verity said, and she stood up.

“Boots.” Frank said, and Mary stopped

“But I need to wear them in.” “Not in here…” “Frank, she’s fine.” Verity soothed him “They’re clean…not that I care, it all vacuums up.” Frank shook his head “You let her get away with murder.” Verity grinned “My prerogative as her Pseudo Nana.”

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Evelyn suddenly spoke up. Frank glanced at her, noticing that her face was overly passive, a look she had often worn with him when he’d done something she disapproved of but was refraining from passing comment. Seems like Verity’s comment had had an effect on her, not that she had any right to be upset, mind.

“Course, out in the hall, second on the left.” Bill nodded and she made her way out of the room.

“She ok?” Fliss asked, looking at Frank.

“Who knows, she’s Evelyn.” he shrugged by means of an answer.

Half an hour later they were all seated round the large table, tucking into their roast Dinner. Mary’s plate was piled with her favourite things, beef, mash, 3 Yorkshire puddings, and broccoli all accompanied by what looked like enough gravy to fill a bath tub with. For once Verity had foregone insisting Mary eat more veg, because who wants veg on their birthday anyway?

The conversation was polite, Evelyn thanking Verity for her food and complementing her cooking. Fliss was pleased to see her mother softening slightly. Evelyn was a very sore subject to the woman, given what she’d put Frank through, but both Bill and Fliss had warned her previously that if Frank’s mother was going to be a fixture in Mary’s life going forward, then Verity needed to accept that.

“Did you manage to get that wardrobe up, son?” Bill asked looking at Frank who gave a chuckle as Fliss hit his arm.

“Eventually…once we realised someone was reading the instructions out wrong.” “I warned you.” Fliss shrugged. “You should have paid someone to come fit it.” “I managed fine once my narrator had sorted herself out.” he rolled his eyes.

“What is it about men and their insistence on being able to do everything themselves?” Roberta asked.

“I’ll remember that next time you ask me to come fix something in your apartment.” Frank pointed his fork at her.

“So, you said you haven’t seen Frank’s new place yet?” Verity asked Evelyn who shook her head in response. “Any particular reason or…”

“I’m actually allergic to cats so…” Verity made to say something else but one look from Bill stopped her dead and she nodded. “Well, if you can you should pop a Benadryl and go over. Bill and Frank did the work themselves, and they did a very good job.” “Yeah and now Frank says Fliss is filling it full of crap.” Mary supplied and Fliss turned to Frank, who groaned.

“Oh did he?” “No, that’s…all I said was that you were buying too many throw cushions and stuff…”

“It looked boring.” Fliss shrugged “Needed colour.”

“I agree.” Mary nodded

“Course you do.” Frank rolled his eyes.

“It was too grey, Frank.” Mary said, mimicking exactly what Fliss had said “The cushions and the rug look good.”

“Well when you move out and get your own apartment you can fill it with all the cushions you want.” Frank looked at her.

“I’m never moving out.” Mary shrugged.

“Oh, trust me. You are.” Frank teased “Soon as you’re 16 I’m packing your bags and you’re gone.” “Whatever.” Mary rolled her eyes at his empty threat “We all know that’s rubbish. You told me I’d have a home with you for life.” “Yeah well I changed my mind.” “You can move in with me baby!” Roberta looked at Mary who grinned.

“You want her you can have her.” Frank said “Be my guest.”

“Oh behave Frank.” Verity scoffed “We all know you’d fight tooth and nail to keep her with you…”

Fliss let out an inward groan and glared at her mother who scrunched her eyes closed in an ‘oh shit’ expression.

“I didn’t…” Verity began, before she shook her head “That’s not what I meant.” “It’s ok.” Evelyn looked at her. “You clearly have very strong opinions on the matter.” “Which she will be keeping to herself as it’s not the time or the place.” Fliss said, effectively ending the conversation “What’s done is done.” She felt Frank’s hand squeeze her knee under the table before he reached over for his glass of water.

“Did Mary tell you she’s going to Camp this summer?” Bill said, swiftly changing the subject.

“Camp?” Evelyn tuned to Mary who nodded “How…nice.”

Frank fought his desire to snort at his Mother’s expression, because he knew camping was her idea of hell.

“Yeah I’m going with scouts.” she said “We’re going to…err…what’s it called again?” “Sandkey Park.” Frank said “In Clearwater.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Mary said, swallowing another huge bite of food “We’re doing outdoor activities and water sports and stuff.” “How long for?” Evelyn asked.

“Five days.” Mary said “And then I’m staying with Verity and Bill for a weekend so Frank can take Fliss away on holiday whilst I’m gone.” “Anywhere nice?” Evelyn looked at Frank.

“Not decided yet have we?” Frank looked at Fliss who shook her head.

“And then we’re all going to New York in December.” Mary said, “ I can’t wait to see the Christmas Trees and lights and snow…” “You’ll love it.” Evelyn smiled “New York at Christmas is magical.” Ok, now that surprised Frank. “You’ve been?” he asked, frowning.

“Your father took me the first Christmas we moved to Boston.” she said, looking at Frank “Did I never tell you?” “No, you didn’t” Frank said “I always thought you hated Christmas.” “I hated it without your Father.” Evelyn corrected him, causing him to frown even more, before she hastily recovered herself. “Where are you staying?”

“The Waldorf.” Fliss said, and Evelyn nodded her head, clearly impressed.

“Your new job must be paying well.” “It keeps me afloat.” Frank said simply.

The rest of the meal passed in comfortable conversation, and once everyone was finished Verity stood up, announcing that it was time for some coffee and cake. “How do you take yours Evelyn?” Verity asked. “Black, no sugar thank you.” Evelyn replied. “I don’t know how people can drink it like that, I find it too bitter.” Roberta pulled a face.

“Me too.” Bill mused “Milk and two sugar kind of man.” “Well I find that taking it bitter helps me keep the mosquitos away.” Evelyn said, with a glance at Fliss, directly referencing their first ever conversation. Fliss choked slightly on her water and side-eyed Frank who was smirking into his glass. When Fliss looked back at Evelyn, she was surprised to see the woman was wearing an amused smile.

“Bit like Garlic keeps the Vampires away huh?” Roberta quipped.

“So that’s how to get rid of you!” Bill smirked, looking up at Verity who shot him a glare as she headed into the kitchen. Fliss got to her feet to help clear down the table along waving both Roberta and Evelyn back into their seats when they too rose to help and insisted that as guests they remained put.

An hour or so later after the candles had been blown out and the cake had been eaten, they all retired outside onto the decking, Mary finally getting her way and after a quick change taking a running jump into the pool. After a round of drinks, Evelyn announced that her car was here and that she should be leaving. After politely thanking them for their hospitality, she smiled and then Frank stood to walk her to the gate one Mary had bid her goodbye.

“They seem a nice family.” Evelyn smiled at him as they walked down the gravel Frank nodded “Yeah, they’re great. Brilliant with Mary too so…” “You seem happy Frank.”

“I am.” He nodded as he pressed the button on the gate to open it, revealing the silver Mercedes that was waiting.

“I’m glad.” she said, gently touching his arm. Frank glanced down at her hand before he looked at her, his eyebrow raised.

“You’re not going to try and hug me now are you?” he asked, a little playfully, but it was enough to make his point. That was the first motherly touch he’d felt from Evelyn in about 20 years.

“I don’t think we’re quite at that point, do you?” “Were we ever?”

“You’d be surprised.” she smiled at him “You were quite an affectionate little boy. Very like your father that way.”

Frank raised his eyebrows a little, as she stepped towards the car and he opened the door for her.

“You remind me a lot of him now.” she looked at Frank “Both in looks, personality, your mannerisms.”

“That why we don’t get along?” Frank asked as she climbed into the car.

“Who knows?” Evelyn said, with a slight smile “Thank you for this weekend. I’ll contact you about seeing her again soon if that’s ok.” Frank nodded “Like I said, as long as Mary’s happy then…”

With that he stepped back, closing the car door. He watched it drive off up the road before he turned and made his way back into the house, deciding that overall it hadn’t been that bad an afternoon.

**** “Stop bouncing on the bed.” Frank said sternly “It’s not a trampoline”

“It’s like one.” Mary replied.

“Yeah well a mine field is technically a field but I wouldn’t let you walk through one…”

Mary flopped down onto the bed “Sorry, I’m just so excited.” “I can tell, but it’s bed time. It’s already late…come on.”

She scrambled under the covers and Frank perched on the edge of the bed as Fliss popped her head in the door.

“Just going for a shower.” she smiled, walking into the room to pop a kiss onto Mary’s head “Night honey.” “Night Fliss, thank you for the best day ever.” “You’re welcome.” Fliss said, straightening up before she headed out of the room. “I wish Fliss was my mom.” Mary sighed, and Frank looked at her, frowning slightly. “I mean, I know my mom loved me but…I never knew her.” Frank sighed, and ran his hand over Mary’s head “I know, Stack, but…well, she would be very proud of you, you know that.” “It’s Mothers’ Day in a week.” Mary said “I heard Fliss talking to Verity about it before, asking her if there was anything she wanted.” she reached out, her hand grabbing Frank’s, her fingers playing with his “Do you think Fliss would mind if I made her a card and maybe got her some flowers?” “I’m sure she would be fine about it.” Frank felt his chest tightening. He hated how wise and old she acted at times. “Now come on, lights out and…try and worry about something else, like how much Monty shit you’re gonna be shovelling from now on.” “The best type of shit!” Mary grinned.

“I’ll let that one go because it’s your birthday.” he pointed at her “But repeat that again, I’ll hang you out of the window by your ears.” She giggled as he stood up and dropped a kiss to her head, before he made his way into the bedroom.

As soon as Fliss was out of the shower, Frank was on her. His hands and mouth roving every bit of her body as he laid her on the bed. He was needy, wanting to feel grounded after the, frankly, surreal weekend he’d had and she was his home, the one person he knew he could rely on to keep him sane, and feeling safe. It was intense, and when it was finally over, they both collapsed, at the complete wrong end of the bed, tangled under a blanket, neither having mustered the energy or the desire to move.

As good as their sex was, no scratch that, as mind blowing as their sex was, he knew that Fliss craved the after moments just as much, where Frank would simply tenderly hold her, snuggle her, kiss her...treat her like a human instead of some kind of object there merely for his gratification and he was happy to oblige. They lay together, Franks left arm resting under Fliss' neck as her long hair spilled in a mass of waves off the edge of the bed as her face rested mere inches from Frank's, a dazed smile on her features. He smiled softly back at her, his right hand reaching up from where it had been resting on her hip to gently cup her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"What you thinking about Sailor?" She asked softly, looking onto his ocean blue eyes as he took a deep breath.

"How lucky I am." He replied.

She gave a soft chuckle as she scooted a bit closer to him, nuzzling her head under his chin. His arms both moved to wrap around her and cradle her close as he dropped a kiss to her head.

"Do you think Mary had a good day?" Fliss asked softly and Frank made a noise of affirmation in his throat.

"Are you kidding?" He looked down at her. “She got a new bike, her own pony, a library's worth of books, a tonne of money, a trip to New York, a ridiculously expensive pair of riding boots, which by the way your parents are still in big trouble for, and to top it all off she ate enough cake and roast beef to feed a small army. I'd say she’s had a fucking amazing day."

"I think it went ok with Evelyn too. Well in that no one drowned one another"

Frank gave a huff of a laugh as his hand ran up and down Fliss's spine "it's a sad state of affairs when that's the sign of a successful dinner...no one being drowned."

"You clearly don't know my mother that well." she snorted and at that Frank gave another small laugh, the vibrations from his chest passing to Fliss'.

“Speaking of Mothers.” he said, suddenly remembering his conversation with Mary as he had tucked her into bed before. “Mary asked me something before…” “Yeah?” Fliss looked at him.

“So, it’s Mother’s Day on Sunday.” His hand brushed Fliss’ hair back “And she asked me if I thought you’d mind her giving you a card.”

Fliss blinked for a moment, her mouth falling ever so slightly open.

“If you do, then it’s not an issue…” Frank hastily began but Fliss cut him off.

“No, I…” she took a deep breath “Of course I don’t mind…not at all. But do you?” “What?”

“Well, how do you feel about it?”

Frank shrugged “She gives one to Roberta every year, not a card about her being a mother as such, it’s more a thank you for everything she does…I suspect yours will be the same.”

“Feel like a bit of a fraud though.” Fliss shrugged. “Fraud?” Frank looked at her.

“Well, yeah.” Fliss shrugged. “You’re the one that does the hard work with her, I just get to do the fun stuff.” “I don’t think you realise just how much of an impact you’ve had on her since coming into our lives.” Frank said honestly “I notice things she does now, that she never did before, things which she’s blatantly picked up from you.” “Like what?” Fliss looked at him.

“She helps you with dinner…” “You never cook.” Fliss cut him off

“The way she’s far less serious…” Frank pressed on “The way she is with Monty, how she gets on with your parents…wants to buy damned throw cushions.”

Fliss chuckled, her hand resting on Frank’s bare hip “You know, you don’t give yourself enough credit for how she has turned out. I know you don’t look upon yourself as her dad but…well, you are. In everything but name and have been since she was six months old. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“So in conclusion you’re ok about the card?” Frank said, and Fliss laughed, recognising that for what it was. Him moving the conversation along, the way he always did when he was feeling bashful about praise.

“Yes, I’m fine about the card.” she smiled at him, her hand reaching up to run through his soft, fluffy hair.

“We should probably get in bed…” he mused, his eyes closed.

“We are.” “I mean the right way round.” “Oh…” Fliss sat up, and Frank heard the rustling of bedcovers before something soft hit him in the face.

“Problem solved” Fliss grinned as he reached up and grabbed the pillow she’d smacked him with, chuckling. Shoving it under his head he settled down slightly, arms round his girl, closing his eyes.

**** Chapter 17

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic

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brelione · 4 years ago

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Barry X Hippie!Reader

Hello! I was wondering if I could request being Barry girlfriend who is a hippie🥺👉👈

Most of Barry’s clients looked the same.Older guys that smelled bad and could barely afford drugs,probably not being able to pay their bills.They all wore dark shitty clothes with stains and holes,muddy shoes and dirt on their arms.That was until you showed up.

Your pants had once been light blue but were now covered in small smiley faces,rainbows,sunflowers,skulls and trees.You had a bandana on your hair,a messy bun not far behind it,a few strands falling from the knot and onto the back of your neck.You had bracelets with pressed bottle caps hanging from them,your shirt bright yellow with small streaks of dirt.

He wasnt sure that you even meant to be here,you didnt seem like the type.

Rafe had looked over at you,not understanding why you were there either.

“What are you looking for,Princess?”He had asked you,noticing that your eyes had focused on one particular part of the floor.You head shot up,glancing around for a second. “Weed,like a lot of it.”You answered,going back to playing with a ring on your pinkie.He had taken you into the backroom,asking just how much weed you were looking for. “I dont know,maybe like two ounces.”You shrugged,making his eyes widen. “You mean two grams?”He asked,eyebrows furrowing when you shook your head. “No,two ounces.”You confirmed.He didnt think you’d be able to afford it until you pulled out three hundred dollar bills,a pressed flower also falling out of your pocket.You had flashed him a peace sign before you left,putting the bag of cannabis into your backpack.He had watched through the blinds of his window,laughing to himself because of how weird you were.

He knew everything about everyone on the island so he couldnt find out why he didn't know you.He hadnt even gotten your name.

He pulled some strings though,somehow getting Rafe to figure you out.The only thing that boy could figure out was your name and that you threw washed up starfish back into the ocean like they were frisbees.

That lead to Barry waking up in the early mornings,heading down to the beach in hopes of seeing you.You were sitting on the sand,hands in your lap as you braided some vines that you had found together.He had come up behind you,not even knowing what to say.

“Morning,Princess.”Was all he could come up with,sitting beside you. “Barry.”You answered,your fingers still messing with the vines until you got to the end,looking down as you tied the two ends together.He watched as you took a small branch from your side,plucking off the tiny purple flowers and tucking them between the gaps of the vines. “What are ya?A hippie or something?”He asked,looking down at the silver chian that held a crystal,the necklace resting on your collarbones.You simply shrugged,staring down at the completed flower crown. “I suppose.”You answered,readjusting your falling bandana.

It took you about three months to run out of weed before you came into his trailer again.He had been waking up early to speak to you on the beach in the mornings,even letting you place a flower crown on his head once.He found out that you didnt have an actual home,just carrying your backpack around with a blanket in it to sleep in trees or on the beach.He had told you that you could come into his trailer if it ever got too cold or too windy for you to handle.He figured that you had been doing this for years and that you wouldn't take up his offer.

It wasn't until the night of a bad hurricane that he realized that he was pretty damn attached to you.He had stayed sober,sitting on his couch and hoping for a knock at his door as the winds increased.

You had knocked on his door during the third hour of the storm,you hair soaked along with your clothes.He had opened the door quickly,letting you inside and struggling to shut it again. “Hey.”You nodded,pulling at your wet t shirt.He glared at you,arms wrapping around you tight. “Fuckin’ crazy ass,out there durin’ a fuckin hurricane.What the hell is the matter with you?”He grumbled,his grip tightening and getting his clothes wet in the process. “Uhh-I don't know.”You squeaked out,not being able to move. When he let you go he was still gripping your shoulders,staring at you. “You’re a fuckin’ idiot.You know that,right?”He asked.You shrugged,his hands falling from your shoulders. “Okay.I can leave if you want.”You answered.He shook his head quickly. “No,no.If you’re gonna be an idiot anywhere you should be an idiot here.”He pulled you into his room,giving you a clean shirt. “You’ll get the flu if you don't take that shit off.”He gestured towards your wet clothes.He left the room so you could change,hearing the wet clothes hit the floor.You had glanced around hsi room for a quick moment,seeing his queen sized unmade bed. “Did you die?”He asked from the other side of the door.You opened the door,holding your backpack in your arm and going to leave his room when he grabbed the handle of your bag. “Where the hell are you going?”He asked,making you pout. “The couch.”You answered,turning around entirely.He just shook his head,pulling you into his room.

After that night you ended up sleeping in his bed nearly every night with his arm tight around you.

He’d kiss your temple or your neck lightly before the both of you fell asleep

He liked that you smelt like weed and peaches

You’d disappear in the mornings most of the time and when you came back your bag would be full of flowers,rocks and even money sometimes.

“What are you gonna do with those?”He asked,looking into your bag at the flowers. “I dont know yet.I saw them on the ground and got sad.”You answered.

When the two of you were alone he’d let you braid his hair and put flowers in it.

None of his clients understood why you liked Barry or why he hadnt killed you yet.You were literally just a rainbow.That was the only way anyone could think to describe you.

Rafe started to call you “Rainbow Dash”

When his clients were gone Barry would turn into pure softness.He let you take him to a field to smoke weed and make flower crowns.Sometimes you’d just leave the crowns there so someone else would find them.

He’s a whore for forehead kisses.He loves them but only from you of course.

Sometimes he’d sit on the roof and watch the sunsets with you

You liked to paint sunsets on rocks.He liked to keep the rocks in a box under his bed.

He liked to keep one of your rainbow tie dyed bandanas in his pocket at all times.

He didn't understand your love for flowers and trees.He didn't understand tarot cards either but he enjoyed your readings.

You smoked so much weed.Like a shit ton.Sometimes he wondered how you weren't dying of lung cancer.

“You shouldn't smoke so much.”He frowned as you went to smoke your fifth of the day. “Bear,you’re a drug dealer.”You reminded him.He knocked you backwards onto the mattress,head on your stomach. “Shut up.”He answered,kissing your stomach lightly.

“I feel like we need to cancel humanity,you know?”You asked,sitting down with a cup of tea.He raised his eyebrows. “No,no i dont.”He replied.You pouted,lifting the cup to your lips. “All humans do is mess things up.If we all die at once we’ll probably become gods.”You answered softly,not really thinking about what you were saying. “Gods?”He asked,his fingers brushing his chin. “Maybe.”You answered.

“Where’s Rainbow Dash today?”Rafe asked,noticing the otherwise empty trailer. “Huggin trees and feeding raccoons and shit.The usual.”Barry answered,handing the tall boy a small bag of white powder. “So shes a hippie?”Rafe asked,taking the bag. “Yeah,you got a problem with that,country club?”Barry asked.

@outerbongs @copper-boom @httpstarkey @teenwaywardasgardian @drewswannabegirl @simonsbluee @jiaraendgame @khiaraaa-in-spacee @on-socks-off

#barry outerbanks #barry obx #barry x reader #nicholas cirillo #nick cirillo #outerbanks #outer banks fanfiction #obx #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron

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mostlycompetentwriter · 5 years ago

Text

Domesticated

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut, language, some mentions of cheating (but not with the main pairing)

Word Count: 19,922 (I might break this up later on)

Summary: Marriage was something Y/N had been dreaming about since she was a little girl. But now, ten years later, she’s married to her college sweetheart, but their relationship isn’t entirely perfect. There’s the issue of her new boss, aka her ex-boyfriend Seo Changbin, and Chan’s younger brother Felix who insists on calling her Medusa. Yet, through it all, Y/N is positive she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Notes: Y'all are really out here sleeping on husband Bang Chan and I won’t allow it anymore. Because Chan is 100% husband goals.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

I slowly exhaled after disregarding my somewhat passable resume, courtesy of one of those sketchy website builders, to look at the interviewer who waited for my response, pen poised over his expensive notebook. I swallowed hard as I struggled to compose myself under pressure. Because there was a professional answer somewhere in the back of my useless brain, but a dozen other responses, far more honest than his expectations, were waiting on the tip of my tongue.

Such as:

Waiting at home for my husband because all I do is stare at the clock, counting down the minutes until he walks through the door. I kinda miss when we were in college and could see each other sporadically between long lectures, grabbing lunch at the Wendy’s on South Campus. Now, the most exciting thing that happens is the occasional blow job before we pass out on the worn mattress in our master bedroom.

Sometimes Chan will host dinner parties at the house for his expensive doctor friends. He won’t spare me a single glance while I rush to fill glasses with rich-tasting wine, keeping an eye on Han Jisung because he can’t take more than three refills before he’s trying to dismantle the house. I’ll also have to ignore the really old surgeon who Chan admires because he likes to touch my ass when I pass through the living room. Maybe I was suited to be a sugar baby in another life.

On the rare occasion when Chan actually uses his cock, he’ll pant in my ear the entire time because he’s worn out from long hours at the hospital. Chan will cum before me most of the time and I’m lucky if he’s cognizant enough to eat me out so that I can finally fall asleep from my post-orgasmic haze. Heck, I’ll even take his fingers on my clit if it means an assured eight hours of sleep.

Shit, I miss being young.

I cleared my throat, deciding on the professional answer because I highly doubt Seo Enterprises wanted to hire a desperate housewife.

I was sprawled out on the couch in our living room when Chan came home that evening. I barely acknowledged his rushed greeting, watching through narrowed eyes as he ran into the kitchen. “Babe,” came his anticipated whine. “There’s no leftovers?”

“I didn’t feel like cooking,” I said, turning over to bury my face in the throw pillows decorating the cushions. It really wasn’t that comfortable since Chan insisted we get the stiff, fancy leather futon as opposed to the appealing sectional that could actually recline.

“You didn’t cook?”

Chan’s voice was closer this time but I still ignored him, sensing an impending headache. “I had an interview.”

“That was hours ago,” Chan pouted.

I sighed loudly. “The interview went great, honey, thanks for asking.”

“I’ve been at the hospital since 5 this morning,” Chan went on, weight dipping beneath the couch at the opposite end. “I didn’t even have time for lunch because Jisung almost fucked up a patient’s IV.”

“Remind me again why he still has a job.”

“Because he somehow graduated from nursing school and has a license claiming he’s qualified,” Chan said. “Plus, he’s my friend.”

“You have shit taste in friends,” I said, protesting when his hand landed a firm smack against my ass.

“Minho tried to wreck the Corvette when he ran out of cigarettes.”

“Minho is loyal.”

“He still wants to fuck you,” Chan grumped. “Ten years after college and he’s trailing after your ass.”

“Darling, you don’t have to be jealous when I’m wearing your ugly ring on my finger 24/7.”

“It was my mother’s!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Bang Chan,” I snapped while grabbing one of my support pillows from beneath my weight, launching it at my husband’s head. Sadly, Chan dodged at the last minute, much to my chagrin, smirking as he dug his fingers into my sides, forcing loud, high-pitched giggles as we both unceremoniously fell into the spotlessly clean floor. “Channie,” I groaned as he rolled on top of me, pinning my hands above my head before deciding to offer me a sloppy kiss with far too much tongue. “You’re fucking gross,” I said, biting at his lower lip in revenge.

“Yeah? Well, you’re fucking sexy,” Chan purred, nuzzling his head between my breasts.

“Stop it, you oaf!” I grumbled. “My period starts tomorrow. My tits have been sore all day.”

“Maybe I should have a look,” Chan teased, a free hand working loose one of the buttons on my shirt.

“And what good will that do?”

“Well, I am a doctor.”

“You just want to see my tits so you have something to jerk off to in the shower tonight.”

“Shower with me then,” Chan suggested. “I’ll fuck you against the wall.”

“Will you have the stamina?” I questioned. “You poor thing, how can you get it up when you haven’t eaten all day?”

Chan frowned at my mocking tone. “Are you turning down my cock?”

“You’re only half-hard,” I said, lifting my thigh against the tight bulge of his scrubs.

Chan let out a sigh, but his smile was endearing. “What if I order takeout? Then we can fuck in the shower.”

“Channie,” I cooed. “You always know how to talk dirty to me.”

I stand by my belief that email was now an archaic form of communication, but the number of big businesses that forced their employees to make an account @ their company name was ridiculous. But if I wanted to find a job in this big ass city, then I needed to play by the rules. Surprisingly, my most recent application was progressing with far more success than I could have anticipated, and I had read over the new email from Seo Enterprises at least half a dozen times:

Dear Mrs. Bang,

Thank you for taking the time to interview with our staff yesterday afternoon. After carefully reviewing your file with our CEO, he has asked us to schedule one last consultation. Please let us know your earliest convenience.

“That must be a good thing,” Minho remarked, digging his spoon into my ice cream since his bowl was empty and I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him.

“I guess,” I said, formulating a quick reply because I really wanted this fancy, high-paying Secretary job. I mean, sitting at home all day was definitely not high on my list of accomplishments.

“What’s the hurry anyway?” Minho asked as he licked his spoon clean. “Bang has enough money that you could just smooch off him for the rest of your life.”

“That’s not fair,” I said. “I want us to be equals.”

“Wasn’t that the point of marrying a doctor, Y/N?” Minho asked. “Otherwise, you could still be screwing around with me.”

“Except we aren’t 18 anymore,” I pointed out, frowning in his direction. “And says the guy who works part-time at his sister’s pet shop.”

“Hey!” Minho protested, shoving his spoon in my face. “I’m helping the strays. Population control and shit.”

“So what? You’re snipping some dog penises, good for you.”

Minho sat back with a disgruntled sigh. “What do you want to do after this?”

“I’ll bring Chan some lunch since he didn’t get a chance to eat yesterday,” I said. “Interested in accompanying an old friend?”

“Not really,” Minho said. “But I don’t have anything better to do.”

I maintained a long list of places that I truly despised and the hospital was number one. I always tried desperately not to let it show when I visited Chan because it wasn’t really his fault. I had a bad history when it came to hospitals and the memories lingered like the permanent smell of alcohol that Chan brought home with him on his scrubs.

“Did you see that guy in the waiting room?” Minho asked after I checked us in at the front desk. “He was seconds away from bleeding out on the floor.”

“Don’t talk about blood,” I shivered, hurrying to the elevator while frantically hitting the corresponding floor number.

“This reminding you of Freshman year?” Minho asked since he was a total airhead and missed out on the memo where I specifically told him to keep his mouth shut about that stupid Frat Party.

“There are five reasons why I hate hospitals,” I said, holding up my hand in front of his stupid face. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

“Is Freshman year one of them?”

“Shut the hell up, Minho.”

A quiet chuckle resounded through the empty elevator while I impatiently waited for our stop. “You’re feisty today,” Minho remarked once the doors reopened.

I ignored the nasty linoleum floors, heels clicking with every step I took in the direction of Chan’s office. “I’m eating with Chan and then we’re never coming here again.”

“Agreed,” Minho said, keeping pace with me while cringing at the gurneys being pushed through the hallways at an alarming rate.

We had almost made it to the end of the floor when I heard a lazy voice call out my name from one of the surrounding rooms. I closed my eyes because I could recognize that voice anywhere since it basically haunted my worst nightmares. He might not know it yet, but Han Jisung was the last person I wanted to run into because maybe, just maybe, he was one of the five reasons why I hated this place.

“Guys!” Jisung gushed, smiling brilliantly. “I’d hug you but I just finished cleaning piss off the floor.”

“Jesus, Han,” I said, wrinkling my nose against the overpowering smell of ammonia. “Is Chan in his office?”

“He was supposed to meet with our new superintendent,” Jisung said, grinning like a complete idiot when he shoved his gloved hands towards Minho who now looked a few beats away from losing his ice cream.

“You’re really pushing your luck today,” Minho growled at him.

“The meeting room is the last room on the right,” Jisung said, finally proving to be useful for once in his life.

I grabbed Minho’s arm because he was close to decking Jisung in the face and I didn’t need the security guards to tell Chan that I let my best friend attack one of his nurses. “Come on,” I said, urging him away from the potential crime scene.

“He’s this close to finding himself with a bloody nose,” Minho complained. “You know what’s funny? I’m pretty sure Han Jisung wouldn’t even know how to help himself.”

“You’re probably right,” I agreed, straightening the collar of my blouse as I peeked in through the tight blinds obscuring the glass wall of the room Jisung had indicated. “There’s Chan...” I started, trailing off when I noticed that he was engrossed in deep conversation with an unfamiliar woman.

“Oh, she’s really hot,” Minho remarked, wincing when I shoved my elbow into his chest.

“Commentary is not necessary,” I said, folding my arms across my chest as I tapped my foot against the floor. Who the hell did this bitch think she was?

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” Minho teased and I swallowed my pride, trying to ignore the way she reached out to touch Chan’s arm.

Thankfully, Chan finally noticed me outside, offering me a cheesy wave which I refused to reciprocate as he said something to the woman. I waited outside the door, attempting my best stern expression even if Chan completely ignored my efforts, encasing me in his powerful arms. “Y/N,” he cooed.

“Chan,” I choked out, struggling against his strength.

Minho snorted at the display. “I’m going to find the cafeteria. Text me when you wanna leave, Y/N.”

I waved him off once Chan eventually released me. I sucked in a few grateful breaths while holding up the takeout bag I had brought. “Is there somewhere we can go?”

Chan nodded, reaching for my hand. “Sorry I took so long, I was meeting with the new superintendent.”

I pursed my lips at that revelation. “She doesn’t look old enough to be a superintendent.”

“She’s around my age,” Chan said and I frowned because that just made everything worse.

The hospital’s staff room was small, the smell of coffee heavy in the air as Chan closed the door behind us. “Nobody should come in.”

“Good,” I said, choosing the only table that looked halfway clean before sitting down with a sigh. “I brought you lunch.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Chan said, gratefully accepting the bag from me while he sat down on the remaining chair. I glared at him from across the table, watching as he dug into the cheap Japanese like it was his last meal on earth. “Is something wrong?” he asked over a mouthful of noodles. Something college Chan would have never done when we first started dating, but I suppose that’s what you get with marriage.

“I saw you were pretty close with your new superintendent,” I said.

“Oh yeah,” Chan replied cheerfully, stuffing even more food into his impossibly wide mouth. “She’s super smart. Like, Harvard graduate smart.”

“Of course she is,” I murmured. “Do you like her?”

“As a boss I guess,” Chan said, still horribly naive to the real problem. I cathartically drummed my fingernails against the surface of the table.

“Are you coming home early tonight?” I asked him. “I’ll fix your favorite.”

Chan’s eyes lit up because, despite the food sitting right in front of him, he always got excited at the prospect of another meal. “Really?”

I nodded. “I’ll put the good whiskey on ice.”

Chan sat back with a dramatic groan. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Where is all this coming from?”

“I’m just being a good wife,” I said, taking on a dismissive tone.

Chan grinned. “Do you want something, sweetheart? You know I’ll buy you anything.”

“No reason,” I chirped. “I just want you to remember how good am I to you.”

“Of course I know that,” Chan said, reaching across the table to squeeze one of my hands. “I didn’t just marry you for your beautiful face.”

“That’s not what you said when we first met,” I reminded him cheekily, enjoying the way his ears grew red. “Should I do a reenactment?”

“That’s not necessary,” Chan said, quickly dismissing the topic. “Did you hear back from your interview?”

“Oh I did,” I said. “They want me to come in and meet the CEO.”

“What for?” Chan scoffed, returning back to his meal.

“Well, I am taking on the secretary position,” I said. “Maybe he wants to make sure I have good phone etiquette.”

“Yeah?” Chan grumbled. “Or, he wants to make sure you look pretty for him so he has something nice to look at all day.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked him because I loved it when Chan got possessive.

“I don’t want some rich bastard drooling over my wife,” Chan said, chopsticks clenched tightly between his fingers.

“Yeah? Well, it works both ways, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, Chan,” I sighed. “Your superintendent was totally flirting with you.”

Chan put down his chopsticks, eyeing me cluelessly. “No, she wasn’t.”

“Yes, she was,” I immediately countered, reaching down for my purse. “I watched her the entire time.”

“Were you spying on me?” Chan asked with a smirk.

“Minho’s probably waiting for me,” I replied instead, smoothing down my skirt as I stood up from the table.

“Don’t you think that’s too short?” Chan asked, pointing at my lower section as if personally offended.

“Work hard, honey,” I grinned, leaning over the table to peck him once on the lips, offering a cheeky wave on my way out the door.

My palms were sweaty and, despite my repeated attempts to wipe off the nasty residue on my skirt, the condition persisted. Hyperhidrosis, Chan might tell me, nerdy glasses falling down his nose. I grinned at a distant memory, one of the first dates I ever had with Chan. A younger, less confident version of my husband, frantically peeling his suit jacket from his body, complaining about the heat in the restaurant, only to cower moments later when he realized his armpits were totally drenched.

“Mrs. Bang?”

I looked up at the young man bowing in front of me. “Mr. Seo will see you now.”

I nodded, holding my tongue before I let the intern know that he sounded just like a passage from Fifty Shades of Gray. Oh, shit, what if I was about to meet Christian Gray in the flesh? Some sort of young, hot billionaire with the world at his feet, buying up other companies like they meant absolutely nothing.

It was a believable scenario, and I don’t know how I managed to get my feet to work, but I followed the intern with exaggerated steps. “The boss has been looking forward to this,” the intern told me, pausing outside the office door.

“He has?” I wondered, glancing around the grandiose lobby. Did I really make that much of an impression?

“You can go in now,” the intern smiled, politely holding the door for me as I wordlessly walked inside.

Of course, I was expecting something extravagant, considering the layout of the lobby, but I was still deeply impressed by the spacious, but oddly cozy interior. Could you really call this room an office? Considering how massive it was in size. I mean, was it really necessary to basically live in an apartment when you arrived to work every day? Complete with stylish hardwood floors that looked like something out of an edition of House and Home magazine. I’d bet my entire life’s savings that the CEO hired some kind of fancy architect to design the place because those engravings on the mahogany walls were quite difficult to achieve. “It’s nice isn’t it?” a disarmingly familiar voice asked, and I found the dark figure leaning against the desk in the center of the room, sleeves rolled up to show off his impressive arms. “I was surprised to see your application, Y/N.”

Fuck, Christian Grey would have been way better.

“Changbin?”

He met me halfway across the room, now completely visible beneath the low hanging lights, tan skin washed with a comfortable glow. “Shocked?”

“You could say that,” I said, suddenly feeling like I was 18 again in college, lusting after the object of my affections.

“Have a seat,” Changbin offered kindly, extending his arm towards the matching armchairs neatly tucked around the electric fireplace.

“Okay,” I nodded, unable to take my eyes off Seo Changbin as I stumbled over my heels like a complete lovestruck teenager meeting her musician idol for the very first time.

But, holy fuck, Changbin looked good. Why the hell did he not age or turn prematurely gray? I held back a whimper, eyes looking everywhere around the room except at Seo Changbin. How did I not put two and two together when I first got the notification for the Secretary position at Seo Enterprises? I mean, what are the chances that this Seo is my Seo...Or, at least, he used to be my Seo.

“Y/N,” Changbin said, flipping through my file with lazy movements. Where did he get those pants from? They fit him sinfully good, hugging his thighs and if I look close enough, the outline of his...“How are you?”

I startled at the question, drawing my eyes up to meet Changbin’s familiar gaze. “Oh, I’m uh..” I trailed off anxiously, trying to put meaningful words together because he was making the English language harder than it needed to be. “I’ve been alright.”

Changbin smiled and I crossed my legs because that kind of smile could literally drench a girl if he wasn’t careful. “I was really happy to see your name on my list.”

“Were you?” I asked, fingers digging into the cushion of my chair.

“I’m always happy to see a familiar face,” Changbin said. “It’s been a while.”

“College,” I choked out, completely out of mind with anxiety, like the time Minho stole my phone and made me think someone had stolen it, even encouraging me to call the number only for him to hang up every time.

“You’re still beautiful.”

“Changbin...”

“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s all in the past.”

“That’s right,” I said, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to snatch my resume out of Changbin’s veiny hands and flee the premises.

“And you’ve married Bang,” Changbin said, pointing to my wedding band. “Which isn’t surprising.”

“Five years,” I said, trying my best to think about Chan and only Chan despite the literal embodiment of my every erotic high school fantasy sitting right in front of me.

“This would be strictly professional,” Changbin said, holding up my resume. “You were our best applicant, but I thought you should know everything about this place before taking the position. Including me.”

“Is that so?” was all I could think to say in return to his unexpectedly thoughtful comment.

Changbin lowered my resume slowly. “The job is yours, Y/N.”

“I’d still have to talk to Chan first,” I said because there’s no way I could just start working for Changbin without Chan knowing everything about the situation. Unfortunately, I could just about anticipate Chan’s response.

“That’s fine,” Changbin agreed. “You can call us tomorrow.”

I allowed a shaky nod, wondering if Changbin knew how much of an effect he still had on me all these years later.

Chan might be one of the smartest men I know, but he was, at his core, just a man who was quite whipped for his wife. Like all men, he was a sucker for lingerie, which is why I slipped on my best matching set, squeezing myself in the little black dress that I knew he really loved.

The hem barely touched the middle of my thighs.

I was also cooking his favorite meal, the smell filling the kitchen pleasantly as I stood at the stove. My plan was quite simple: dress pretty for Chan and surprise him with his favorite food to soften him up. Maybe then he wouldn’t have a complete meltdown when I broke the news to him about my newest employer.

But I still shivered when I heard the door open. “Y/N!”

“I’m in the kitchen,” I called back to him, attempting several meditative breaths to try and keep myself together.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, freezing in the doorway as he undoubtedly took in the sight of his wife wrapped in a tight black number.

“I’m making dinner,” I said, flashing him an arrogant smile, amused by the way he openly gaped at me while still wearing his oversized doctor’s coat. A result of an excited, freshly employed Chan filling out his form request with sloppy handwriting.

“You look hot,” Chan told me bluntly, eyes glued to my body as he eliminated the space between us with a few quick-paced steps.

“I got the job,” I said, letting out a nervous giggle as I continued to push around the searing bulgogi with a shaky hand. “Consider this a celebration.”

“That’s great, sweetie,” Chan said, standing behind me to wrap his arms around my middle, pressing soft kisses to the back of my neck, roaming hands feeling my body. “I guess the CEO liked you.”

A hellish double entendre. “Yeah, he was really nice.”

“I’m glad it worked out,” Chan said, voice next to my ear. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to get a job or anything. I’m proud of you no matter what.”

Was it his intention to make me feel guilty? “Channie,” I sighed, turning around in his arms. “I have to tell you something.”

Chan cocked a brow. “What is it?”

“The company I’m working for...”

“Yeah?”

“The CEO is someone we know.”

“Is that it?” Chan chuckled, accent thick as those adorable dimples filled out his smile. “Who is it, babe?”

“He used to go to school with us,” I tried, hoping that maybe Chan could just learn how to read my mind and save me the effort of mustering some kind of courage.

“Minho?” Chan teased.

“We’re not exactly friendly with him,” I said.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but I’m not exactly friendly with Minho.”

“You jerk,” I huffed, half-heartedly pushing against his chest. “You really, really don’t like this person.”

“There aren’t many people I really, really don’t like,” Chan said. “Come on, Y/N, just tell me who it is. Are you afraid I’ll be upset with you?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Chan’s smile vanished in a minute. “Y/N.”

“Seo Enterprises,” I said. “The company name.”

Realization dawned across Chan’s face. “Are you saying...”

“Changbin,” I murmured, looking down at my feet. “He’s my new boss.”

Chan let out a rough exhale because he knew exactly who Seo Changbin was and I’m pretty sure he associated the name with deep hatred. “Are you fucking serious?”

I winced at Chan’s tone because he had quickly shifted from sweet, caring husband to angry, sinister Mr. Bang in the blink of an eye. “Yes?”

“The Seo Changbin,” Chan reiterated. “The guy you fucked for like six months Freshman year?”

“That would be the one,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze before immediately regretting the decision.

“Why the hell would you take a job as his Secretary?” Chan demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Normally, I would admire the sight of Chan’s arms stretching the thin fabric of his t-shirt, but now I was just intimidated.

“Because I really wanted the job,” I said. “And I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s a huge fucking deal,” Chan said, glaring down at me. “You think I’m okay with the idea of you working for someone you once told me you were, and I quote, definitely gonna marry?”

“But I’m married to you,” I tried, attempting a sugary-sweet tone that usually broke Chan’s resolve.

Except for tonight.

“Yeah,” Chan nodded, “You are, and I told you I would take care of you. I have enough money to support both of us, you don’t need to work at all.”

“Chan, you know I’m not comfortable sitting at home,” I said.

“I get that, Y/N, but Seo Changbin? I could get you a Secretary job at the hospital.”

“Channie, this is a position at Seo Enterprises. One of their biggest assets is New York Publishers! It’s like the perfect opportunity to get my foot in the door.”

“Y/N,” Chan groaned. “I can’t stand the thought of you working for Changbin under any circumstances.”

“I get it, Chan,” I said. “But it’s different than college. I’m married now, and Changbin is nothing more than my boss.”

“Does he really get that?” Chan asked. “I’m putting my foot down, Y/N. I don’t want you working for him, okay? You can call them tomorrow and say you’ve got something better.”

“But Channie!”

“No, Y/N,” Chan growled. “You can look for something else.”

I frowned once I realized Chan wasn’t going to back down. It didn’t matter that I wanted the job or that I had dressed up and cooked for him. For the first time since we met, Chan was refusing to give me what I wanted. “Chan, you really don’t have the right to tell me what to do.”

“I’m your husband,” Chan said, justifying his unfair demands with such patriarchal reasoning.

“Fine,” I muttered darkly, ignoring the way his hand reached out for mine.

“Don’t be this way,” Chan said, following me as I marched to our bedroom, slamming the door closed behind me. “Y/N!” Chan shouted against the door, knocking loudly on the wood. “This is my room too!”

“Not tonight,” I informed him tersely, opening the door only to harshly shove a spare blanket and pillow at his chest. “Goodnight, darling.”

“This is Y/N,” I said into the phone. “I’m calling about-”

“One moment, Mrs. Bang, we can transfer you to Mr. Seo right away.”

“But you don’t understand...”

“Hello?”

“Changbin!” I squealed loudly into the phone, wincing at my shrill tone.

“Y/N,” Changbin said pleasantly, voice as deep and gravelly as I remembered. “Is this the phone call I’ve been waiting for?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, making myself comfortable at the kitchen counter since I was a notorious pacer when it came to difficult conversations. “It depends on what you’re expecting.”

“I’m expecting to hear a confirmation,” Changbin said. “This is a perfect position for someone with your qualifications.”

“I know,” I groaned. “But I’m calling because I can’t take the job.”

“Really?” Changbin asked. “Can I ask why?”

“Chan isn’t comfortable with the idea,” I said.

“Is that so?” Changbin inquired, innocently enough. “I hope it isn’t because of college.”

“T-that’s not entirely why,” I stuttered because Changbin was apparently intuitive now that he owned some big, fancy company.

“I hope not,” Changbin said. “It wouldn’t be fair of Chan to keep you from a potential opportunity because of something like that.”

“It’s just a lot right now,” I said. “I haven’t had a job in a year. My last position was really good, but the company went bankrupt and I was laid off, so I’m just trying to be careful.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about anything like that here, Y/N,” Changbin said. “This is a great opportunity for someone looking for a fresh start.”

Did he read my Facebook bio?

“I’m sure it is, Changbin, but I can’t do something that would make Chan uncomfortable.”

“But he’s not the one taking the position,” Changbin pointed out. “I can assure you, Y/N, you won’t find another position like this.”

“God, you’re good at negotiating.”

“Take the job, Y/N. I promise you won’t regret it.”

I could blame it on my desperation later, but I actually really liked the position. It promised a lot, especially considering the publishing company attached to Seo Enterprises. That would be my ultimate goal, to spend my days reading promising manuscripts while sipping expensive Starbucks coffee.

“I guess I can’t say no.”

“Then I’ll see you on Monday.”

Message to Channie

I took the job. I’m sorry but the opportunity was hard to pass up.

It only took a few seconds for Chan’s contact name to flash across my screen with an incoming call. I muted the sound like a coward, ignoring him completely while I started the ignition to the Corvette. A one-year anniversary present from Chan who was somehow more excited than I was when he first handed me the car key.

I drove to Minho’s apartment because I didn’t want to go home and I really had nowhere else to go. Plus, at least Minho was a reliable friend who really didn’t care if I crashed on his couch while he shoved cheap wine down my throat. In fact, Minho might be glad to see me since he was constantly complaining about his new hours at the shop.

“You look like shit,” Minho commented when he answered the door, standing aside to invite me inside. I shrugged off my coat, tossing it against the wall before slumping down onto the cheap sofa in Minho’s living room. The only piece of furniture he could afford in his ridiculously small New York apartment. “What happened?”

“I took the job with Changbin.”

Minho’s eyes widened in surprise. “You did? I can only assume Chan is lying somewhere on his deathbed.”

“No,” I snorted. “I took the job even though Chan asked me not to.”

“Savage,” Minho exhaled and I rolled my eyes at him.

“It’s a great opportunity!”

“When do you start?” Minho asked, feet propped up in my lap as he made himself more than comfortable next to me.

“Monday morning,” I said, mindlessly taking the remote to scroll through his limited TV channels.

“And Chan is mad?” Minho repeated, glancing at me for confirmation. “Can you really blame him though?”

“Why?” I frowned.

“I mean, Chan’s been in love with you since high school. He used to trail after you all the time, but you only talked about Seo Changbin.”

“You’re not being a good friend right now,” I said, remembering with perfect clarity the image of a sixteen-year-old Chan, hair untamed and clothes mismatched. Chan was a constant presence in my life, even if I preened after another boy who certainly had no intention of remaining faithful.

“Go home to him, Y/N,” Minho said with far more seriousness than I was used to hearing from my still immature best friend. The same Minho who couldn’t find work for an entire year after graduation because he was too busy sleeping with any woman that walked on two legs, living with various girlfriends while slowly draining his savings account.

“Since when are you the voice of reason?” I grumbled.

“Well, we all have to grow up one day.”

I hated the rare occasions when he was right.

The house was eerily silent when I unlocked the door, spotlessly clean just as I had left it which made me feel bad because it meant Chan didn’t even try to eat anything. “You always make me worry,” I muttered, toeing off my shoes as I decided to check the bedroom.

When Chan had first bought the house, he wanted it to look as close as possible to the random design I had pointed out at the local fair when we were Sophomore students. The plaque had deemed it the “house of the future” and I was enamored with the idea of the future back when my whole life was waiting right in front of me. A big dreamer who was already making wedding plans the moment Chan got down on one knee and proposed with his mother’s wedding ring.

“Channie,” I whispered into the darkness, cautiously tiptoeing my way to the side of the bed where Chan was facing away from me, sheets tucked in around his waist to leave his chest exposed. “I’m sorry.”

Chan let out a sigh. “What are you sorry for, Y/N?”

“I hurt you,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I took the job with Changbin and I didn’t think about how it would affect you.”

“I fucking hate him,” Chan said, tone bitter and laced with venom. “I hate what he did to you Freshman year and I hate that he was the first person you loved.”

“Chan,” I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I was really young and stupid back then. I should have never slept with Changbin. But he was just a fantasy, even when we were together, and I certainly never really loved him.” I leaned in closer, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “I’ve always loved you first. You mean the world to me and I’m sorry that I went behind your back to work for Changbin. But he’s definitely nothing more than a mistake from a past full of them. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Chan shifted from next to me, rolling onto his back. His eyes were looking at me like I was literally his entire world. “I’ll always worry, sweetie. You drive me insane these days.”

I grinned at the use of his pet name for me, reaching out to run a soothing hand along the defined lines of his stomach. “Don’t worry about me, darling, when you’re the one with a supermodel for a boss.”

“Fuck, we’re both screwed,” Chan said. “Does she drive you mad with jealousy?”

“Of course she does,” I said. “She has bigger tits than me.”

“Well, I like your tits,” Chan insisted. “Don’t even think about bringing up plastic surgery again.”

“It would be to your benefit,” I pointed out.

“And the detriment to my savings account. Plus, I don’t want some old bastard fondling your tits while he pumps silicone in your chest.”

“Of all the things to worry about,” I sighed. “Does this mean we’re okay again?”

“You could probably step on me and I would still thank you for it, sweetie.”

“What if I sit on it instead?” I asked, moving my hand down to squeeze his flaccid cock.

“Makeup sex?” Chan gasped. “You don’t have to sell yourself out like this, babe.”

“Yeah? Well, I want to,” I said while proceeding to straddle his waist, smirking when Chan’s hands instantly moved to my hips. It was almost like a magnet, the reaction automatic after years of marriage. “You’re already hard,” I teased, reaching back to palm him over the sheets.

Chan always slept in boxers which I certainly appreciated because it made the rare nights of our passionate lovemaking even more accessible. Chan lifted my shirt, groaning low when he saw that I was wearing nothing but a pair of satin panties. “This is why I’m already hard.”

“You don’t see me walking around the house in underwear,” I quipped playfully.

“It’s comfortable,” Chan whimpered, moaning when my hand found the smooth velvety head of his cock.

“Something you never did when we were dating,” I said. “I spent weekends with you in the apartment.”

“Wanted to make a good impression,” Chan grumbled, eyes closed as he rolled his hips in time with my careful strokes.

“So you don’t have to impress me anymore,” I said, glancing back at his cock, hot and heavy in my hand. “But I guess you still do.”

Chan moaned even louder at my words, fingers tightening in my wrinkled shirt. “Don’t make me cum yet.”

“Why not, darling?” I asked him cheekily, twisting my wrist just right, watching as a stuttered gasp fell from between his gorgeous pout.

“Wanna cum inside,” he said, biceps straining as he pulled me closer, kissing me with a desperation that only demonstrated just how gone he really was.

“Yeah?” I smirked, tongue tracing the ridges of his full lips. “I guess you deserve it after putting up with my bullshit all day.”

Chan nodded fervently and the sight was oddly endearing. It reminded me of when Chan and I first met in high school, a nerdy sixteen-year-old boy who had just transferred schools all the way from Australia. He had a thick accent, foreign and rich, just like the untamed mass of curls covering his deep brown eyes. Chan wore thick-rimmed glasses and he had a light dusting of freckles like the main character from Freckle Juice, one of my favorite childhood novels. He was nerdy and shy, sitting alone in the cafeteria at lunch and walking between classes with his shoulders hunched like he was afraid one of those horrible jocks would try to steal his bag again.

“Y/N!” he whined loudly, forcing me out of the memory.

“Alright, Channie, you want inside?”

I sat up on my knees to work down my panties, ignoring the way Chan’s fingers tried to interfere, pulling at the fabric like he could possibly make them disappear any faster. I grabbed the hem of his boxer shorts, teasingly pulling them down his thighs before brushing a kiss across the weeping tip of his cock, precum bitter on my tongue. For a moment, I admired his thick erection, remembering how nervous Chan was the very first time we had sex back before we were even old enough to drink alcohol.

I held his cock as I positioned myself over his lap. “I’ll do all the work tonight,” I said, listening to Chan’s sweet moans the entire time I slowly lowered myself onto his cock, enjoying the way he always filled me so deeply.

“Oh yeah, sweetie,” Chan grunted, hips moving messily as he tried to find a rhythm. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

“Really?” I asked, swallowing down a moan when Chan hit just right, movements growing more and more confident as I returned every thrust. “I thought I was in charge tonight.”

Chan’s hands gripped my waist firmly, eyes wide open as he focused on where we were connected. “I’m always in charge.”

“Definitely,” I said, bracing my hands against his firm chest for balance because I was weak for this version of Chan. A complete contradiction to the one I first started dating, sweetly doting as he did everything in his power to make me happy. An image of a beautifully innocent Chan looking up from his position between my thighs. “It’s good?”

“So good,” I whispered aloud, peppering kisses across the pale expanse of Chan’s creamy skin, laving my tongue against a sensitive nipple which forced a temporary break from his regular tempo.

“Don’t play dirty, sweetie,” Chan said, giving me no warning before he was pushing me onto my back, hovering over me with his irresistible bedroom eyes. His hands spread my thighs wide, giving himself more room to fuck inside, movements growing faster with every step closer to what was beginning to feel like an intense orgasm. I’m talking about the kind that I could feel between my legs for days after I tried to walk straight again. “Do I need to touch you?”

“Fuck, I think you’re doing just fine,” I said. “Where the hell did this come from?”

“You woke up my competitive side,” Chan said, hitting deep like we were suddenly 20-years-old again sneaking quickies between lectures. Back then, Chan could literally fuck me against a wall, my legs wrapped around his gorgeous hips while he knocked the breath out of my lungs. Thank god, Chan decided that college would be his glory years, working out aggressively in the gym until he had muscles filling out the places where he had previously been soft. But I would always miss his pudgy stomach, even if his ass was now something out of a porn magazine.

“Well fuck,” I moaned. “I’ll have to do this more often.”

“I’d do it all the time if I wasn’t working until 3 in the morning at the hospital,” Chan said.

“Good point, should I come in at lunch then? You can lock us in one of the empty rooms.”

“Oh shit, sweetie, you shouldn’t talk that way,” Chan growled and it was one of the sexiest sounds I had ever heard.

“I’m close,” I warned him, digging my fingers in his scalp as his teeth teased against my collarbone.

“Me too,” he said, breaths uneven as he punctuated his words with a series of harsh ruts that sent my eyes rolling into the back of my skull. His fingers found my clit, thumb pressing down hard enough to trigger one of the best orgasms I had experienced in a long time.

I tightened around his stuttering cock, moaning when I could feel his cum deep inside, warm and wet. “Shit, you’re so good at that.”

Chan pulled out slowly, eyes growing wide at the sight of his cum leaking down my ass. “Left a fucking mess though.”

“We can shower later,” I said, grabbing his arm to encourage him to lie down next to me, burying my face against his chest, scarlet-red from the exertion.

“Was the dick that good?” Chan teased, running his fingers soothingly along my spine.

“Your dick is that good,” I replied. “The genetics are strong.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my parents,” Chan said, giggling as I shot him a warning glare. “I love you, sweetie.”

“Mmm, I love you more.”

1 Week Later

Lee Felix is the spawn of the devil and nobody could convince me otherwise. Because ever since we first met, when Chan invited me over to his house for a project, Felix had decided that I was his number one enemy, deeming me “Medusa” because he was enamored with Greek Mythology. But the unfortunate nickname had stuck throughout the years, even when Felix visited our college between breaks, forcing me to sleep on the couch while he shared the bed with his step-brother.

Recently, Felix had just finished his Master’s program for some kind of fancy Philosophy degree that would probably do him absolutely no good in the real world. But Chan was proud of his baby brother, inviting him to stay with us after graduation until Felix could stand on his own two feet. The decision was met by my instantaneous protest leading to an argument that I inevitably lost because Chan was still using Changbin as a winning point. However, even before my employment with Seo Enterprises, Felix was the cause of at least 95% of our arguments and I was not exaggerating in the slightest.

The sound of the doorbell ringing was suddenly a lot louder than I remember. “Death is here,” I said solemnly, ignoring the way Chan scoffed at my claim. I followed behind him somberly as he opened the door, letting out an excited cheer when he saw Felix waiting on the other side. Felix dropped his bag and practically screamed, which would likely wake up the entire neighborhood, jumping into his brother’s arm as the two embraced right in the middle of my foyer.

“Could you be any louder?” I snarled at the younger Bang.

“Maybe I could, Medusa,” Felix shot back, eyes narrowed as he picked up his bag.

“Come on, Felix,” Chan said, nodding at the kitchen. “I bet you’re hungry.”

Felix nodded, putting on his best smile for his ignorant brother, shoving his bag harshly at my chest as he walked by. “You can take care of that for me, right Medusa?”

“You little bitch,” I muttered, meeting his glare with one of my own.

The only thing worse than going out with Felix was including Han Jisung in the equation. For whatever reason, Jisung and Felix always riled each other up, chugging down alcohol like it was fucking water or something. However, Felix wanted to see Jisung again and Chan never said no to his little brother. This is why I was currently seated next to Chan at a cheesy bar in downtown Harlem, listening to Felix and Jisung try to talk over one another as Chan looked on with fond eyes. The only good part of the night was the fact that even Chan had allowed himself to get a little tipsy which meant he was doing his absolute best to feel me up in public. I always found it amusing, knocking his hand away when his eager fingers started to trail up my skirt.

“Felix,” Jisung whined. “How can you say that?”

“Oi, there’s no way you can put Nickleback and Green Day in the same fucking category.”

I rolled my eyes at the stupid argument, smacking Chan’s hand when he started to finger the waistband of my skirt. “Chan!” Jisung pouted. “Tell him that he’s wrong.”

“Tell the philosophy major that he’s wrong?” Chan asked, accent on full display as he reached out to playfully ruffle Felix’s hair. “You can’t even answer the phone at the receptionist’s desk.”

Felix loved the attention and I hated it when he came over only to occupy Chan’s every waking hour with his never-ending thirst for affection. But I wasn’t going to let him get away with it tonight. I cleared my throat, stretching my arms back behind my head because I knew how good it would make my breasts look in the rather low-cut shirt I had chosen for tonight’s affair. I glanced over at Chan, smiling victoriously when I saw the way his eyes had glued themselves to my chest. Even Han Jisung was looking, which would normally annoy me to no end, but I was putting on my best behavior tonight. “Chan!” Felix shouted, trying to regain his brother’s attention. “Did you hear that I scored the highest honors on my research project?”

And just like that, Chan’s attention was redirected to Satan, eyes glowing with pride. “That’s amazing, Felix!”

“I can tell you all about it,” Felix said arrogantly, tossing me a cocky smile which left me absolutely incensed. “The board was so impressed, they offered to publish my results in the University’s magazine.”

“Are you serious, Felix?” Jisung asked which was an even bigger blow because the only two things occupying Jisung’s thoughts were women and alcohol.

So I decided to push my luck, tugging down my skirt before shifting over in the booth to plant myself directly on Chan’s lap, wrapping my arms around his neck before nuzzling into his warm chest. “Channie,” I cooed while glaring at Felix from the corner of my eye.

“Do you want something, sweetie?” Chan asked, smile blinding as one hand wrapped around my waist, leaving the other to tease the bare skin of my thighs.

I reached for Chan’s beer, shoving the glass at him because nothing made Chan hornier than thighs and alcohol. “Should I come to see you at work tomorrow? Like we talked about before?”

Chan’s eyes lit with recognition and I smirked victoriously when I felt him grow hard in his tight jeans. “I’d really like that.”

And to seal my victory, I leaned forward to kiss my intoxicated husband, ignoring the sloppy way he reciprocated, breath musty with the taste of beer. Felix growled lowly from across the booth and Jisung let out a wolf whistle at our blatant display. But I was on cloud nine, satisfied to have won Chan’s attention because it meant Felix was going to be quite unhappy for the rest of the night.

“Medusa, aren’t you going to make me breakfast?”

I groaned as I glanced over at the alarm clock which informed me that it was only 9:00 AM. “Fuck, Felix, go back to sleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” he whined, reaching across the bed to tug on my arm.

“It’s Saturday,” I hissed, barely clinging to the wonderful promise of more sleep which would do wonders for my hungover state.

“Chan wouldn’t be happy with you,” Felix reminded me. “Should I call him at work?”

“Get out of here you little maggot,” I snapped. “I’ll fix you some damn breakfast.”

“Now!” Felix ordered like he had every right to make demands of me, but I didn’t want Felix to say anything to Chan because that would only lead to another needless argument.

“You’re a fucking menace,” I said, throwing off my bedsheets while briefly mourning the loss of my precious sleep. But I don’t want anyone to ever say that I was a bad wife, especially when I put up with Lee Felix just to make Chan happy.

Felix was already seated at the counter when I finally drug myself out of my bedroom, groggily reaching for a clean pan from the cabinet. “You get eggs and bacon,” I told him. “I’m not a gourmet chef.”

“Whatever,” Felix said, ignoring me completely in exchange for his cell phone. Which Chan was now paying for to help “lessen Felix’s financial burden.”

“Chan,” I remember telling him. “You’ll spoil him if you keep doing things like that. He’ll never want to leave!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Chan had shot back as if the idea of living with his younger brother for the rest of our married life was perfectly acceptable.

“A million things,” I muttered now, cracking one of the eggs against the side of the pan.

“I hear you’re working for Seo Changbin,” Felix abruptly spoke up, and I could practically feel his eyes on me. “He cheated on you, right?”

“It’s really none of your business,” I informed him brusquely, grabbing a spatula while wondering if I could teach Felix a lesson if I hit him a few times.

“My brother isn’t happy,” Felix continued as if my warning meant nothing to him. Probably because it didn’t. “I think it’s a bad idea, but your satisfaction always comes first, right?”

“Why the fuck did Chan tell you this?” I gritted out while aggressively slamming the fridge closed, pack of bacon gripped tightly in my hand.

“He tells me everything,” Felix said smartly. “Because he trusts me.”

“Good for you,” I huffed over my shoulder. “I’m glad you have such a close relationship with your brother.”

“Jealous?” Felix taunted, expression smug when I roughly placed down a glass in front of him.

“Is orange juice, okay?” I asked him in a faux sweet voice.

“It’s fine,” Felix shrugged. “But whatever is most inconvenient for you.”

“What a sweet little boy you are,” I said, pouring him a generous amount. “How long do you plan on staying here?”

“Chan says I can stay for as long as I want,” Felix said, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“Of course not,” I muttered. “Two Bangs are better than one.”

“That’s right,” Felix said brightly, taking a sip from his glass. “Ugh, does this have pulp in it?”

“Drink your fucking orange juice, Felix!”

The invention of video games was a godsend because they could occupy Felix’s attention for hours, leaving me in relative peace as I tried not to let him destroy every last bit of my resolve. I was currently having a bath alone in the sanctity of my bathroom, shoulder-deep in soothing bath salts which I kept well-stocked in the cabinet underneath the sink. The aroma was pleasant, sending me to a place somewhere far away to where Felix’s were strictly prohibited.

For the entirety of the day, Felix had been doing his best to get on my nerves. I cooked him breakfast and lunch, cleaned his disgusting laundry, and even held my tongue when he requested I drive him to the mattress store because the guest bedroom was unsatisfactory. But it had always been like this between us, ever since the day I first met Felix and tried my best to make a good impression. Unfortunately, Felix idolized his older brother, deeming any girl unworthy of his time and efforts, including myself. Of course, above anyone else, Felix thought I was the worst possible choice, reminding me every second that his brother deserved someone smarter, richer, and prettier.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated loudly on the edge of the bathtub and I hesitantly glanced at the screen, half-expecting to see Felix’s name displayed like a caution sign. Surprisingly, it was Chan who had sent me a message to ask where I was, which meant Felix had lied through his teeth and said I’d gone somewhere.

To Channie

Bathroom.

It was only a moment or two later when the door opened and Chan stuck his head inside, offering me a pleasant smile as he locked the door behind him. “You’re home early,” I remarked, vacantly staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s Saturday night,” Chan reminded me. “I thought the three of us could go out to eat.”

I groaned in protest. “What about takeout?”

“You love going out,” Chan said. “I’ll even let you pick the restaurant.”

“I have way too many problems right now,” I said. “I’m avoiding them by staying in the water for as long as I can.”

“Sweetie,” Chan said, taking a step closer. “You should’ve waited for me.”

“Why?” I asked him airily. “You’re one of those problems.”

“Me?” Chan asked, choosing to sit down on the edge of the tub. “What did I do wrong?”

“No arguments tonight,” I said, letting out a deep sigh. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been all day.”

“Aren’t you being overdramatic?” Chan asked, reaching down to flick a trail of water in my direction. “I was in surgery for 6 hours today.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve dealt with Felix since 9 this morning.”

“Ah,” Chan sighed. “I figured it had something to do with my brother.”

“Just forget it,” I whined. “You know we don’t get along.”

“I do know that,” Chan said. “But I wish you both made a better effort. We’re family after all.”

I shivered at the idea of Felix belonging to any family of mine. “You can keep him on your side, then. I grew up as an only child, look at how much better I turned out for it.”

“You told me you had imaginary friends growing up because you were so lonely,” Chan teased.

“Asshole,” I muttered. “That’s sensitive information that I told you in confidentiality. You should know all about patient-doctor confidentiality. Didn’t you have a whole lecture on it?”

“Y/N,” Chan lightly chastised, reaching for a towel on the rack next to the counter. “Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour.”

“You’ve condemned me to death,” I complained, watching through lidded eyes as he stretched out his arms.

“I’m serious, Y/N, at least try to get along for my sake.”

“That’s all I ever do,” I muttered to his retreating form.

Hwang Hyunjin is a willing accomplice to the devil himself who never misses an opportunity to throw out some lascivious comments about my appearance. He was Felix’s best friend and partner in crime, sharing his goal of making my life as miserable as possible. He was also coming out to eat with us tonight and no matter how much I whined to Chan, he remained adamant that Felix should spend some time with his friends. “He’s only young once,” Chan told me, ignoring the way I glared at him with every ounce of hostility that I could muster.

“Did you paint those pants on, Y/N?” Hyunjin asked the minute he sat down in the backseat next to Felix.

“I did, actually, thanks for the unnecessary observation,” I told him shortly, still focused on the staring contest I was having with Felix in the rearview mirror.

“Don’t mind her, she’s probably on her period,” Felix said and I took in a deep breath because I was very close to turning around in my seat to choke the life out of Felix’s pencil neck.

“How have you been, Hyunjin?” Chan asked, one hand on the steering wheel as he calmly navigated us through the permanent traffic of New York.

“I applied for a job with Amazon,” Hyunjin replied. “I don’t wanna brag, but I definitely nailed the interview.”

“Yeah right,” I muttered under my breath. Hyunjin had the worst people skills in the history of mankind. He was almost as incompetent as Han Jisung, but ten times worse because of his sarcastic attitude.

“You’ll get me Amazon Prime for free, right bro?” Felix giggled and I resisted the urge to mock the sound.

“I’m proud of you, Hyunjin,” Chan said. “I know you worked hard.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Hyunjin said. “But the chick who interviewed me was really hot and I think I appropriately swept her off her feet.”

“Big tits?” Felix asked because that’s all those stupid boys cared about.

“Of course,” Hyunjin said. “But I’m still waiting for you, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Felix scoffed. “You could do better than Medusa.”

“How about some music?” I snapped loudly, reaching down for the radio knob to block out the sounds of Felix and Hyunjin’s voices.

Monday mornings were the worst thing to ever happen to mankind next to Lee Felix. I was sipping at my morning coffee, cold now because Felix had spent way too much time ordering me around the kitchen before I left home. But it was better than nothing and I desperately needed caffeine to get through the day. “Morning, Y/N,” Changbin greeted me smoothly, suit well-pressed and fitted to hug his arms and thighs just right.

“Sure,” I said in reply, trudging to my chair in slow motion.

“Are you always this lively in the mornings?” Changbin remarked, leaning against my desk as he looked through his mail.

“Just on Mondays,” I said, booting up my computer so that I could answer the dozens of emails likely waiting for me, most of which would come from annoying sponsors who wanted Changbin to be on their dumb podcast.

“Well, you still look gorgeous,” Changbin said.

My cheeks flushed at his comment. “You still need to call Mr. Kim back, he’s left another voicemail.”

“Just one call?” Changbin smirked, eyes dancing dangerously. “Have you been scaring everyone off, Y/N?”

“I did just as you asked, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir,” Changbin chuckled, carefully engrossed in his cell phone now as he graciously returned to his own office.

I shivered as I glanced at my computer screen. Changbin was still as notoriously flirtatious as he had been when we were younger. In fact, it might be worse now that he had finally grown into his sharper features which made him look ridiculously attractive. “I love Chan, I love Chan,” I quietly repeated to myself, even as a distant memory suddenly forced itself back into consciousness.

An 18-year-old Seo Changbin walking inside my lecture hall wearing a dark button-up tucked into the tightest pair of skinny jeans he probably owned. Every eye in that lecture room had suddenly turned to him because he was an irresistible force, impossible to ignore. “Y/N?”

Be cool Y/N, I softly chastised myself as I offered him a friendly smile. “Hi, Changbin.”

It was purely coincidental that Changbin had ended up at the same University as me, but that didn’t stop my fragile teenage heart from declaring it as something akin to fate. “It’s been a while,” Changbin said, pulling out the chair next to mine.

I swallowed hard because my mouth was as dry as a desert. “I didn’t know you were enrolled here.”

“It was my first pick,” Changbin said. “My father is an alumnus.”

“Really?” I asked, ignoring the arrival of the professor in exchange for mapping out every single one of Changbin’s gorgeous features.

“This class is just for gen ed,” Changbin said, pushing a hand through his neatly styled black hair.

“Oh, same for me,” I nodded. “I heard it was pretty easy.”

“Is that right?” Changbin asked while flashing me an award-winning smile. Roll out the red carpets because this boy was cool enough to be in an action film co-starring Tom Holland and Ancel Elgort.

But what were we talking about? “I’m majoring in English.”

“Political Science,” Changbin returned. “And Business.”

I deflated a little because, in comparison to my lousy arts degree, Changbin seemed like a certified genius. He would be educated in the art of entrepreneurship and big money while I struggled to comprehend the meaning of Great Expectations. “Have you met anyone else from high school?”

“Not yet,” Changbin said. “What about you?”

“Well, Bang Chan’s enrolled here too...” I started, only to trail off when I realized that Changbin probably had no idea who Chan was since he never paid attention to him in high school. Actually, Changbin would have been more likely to join the football jocks who liked to steal Chan’s stuff only to tie his underwear to the flagpole outside the gym.

“The nerdy Australian kid?” Changbin chuckled. “That sucks.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage since Changbin obviously didn’t know that Chan and I were friends.

“You don’t hang out with him, do you?” Changbin asked, peering at me closely like I was seconds away from losing the honor of his company.

“We have lunch sometimes,” I said, which was only partially true since I did like to meet up with Chan in the dining hall around 2:00 because it was never crowded. But Changbin didn’t need to know that I had spent the night in Chan’s apartment listening to him record one of his mixtapes because Chan had a newfound interest in music.

“You could do better,” Changbin sighed. “Hang out with me instead. I’ll treat you to the nicest fast food joint on campus.”

My heart was racing, palms clammy as I nodded my head rapidly. “Lunch?”

“Whatever you want, love,” Changbin said, close proximity knocking every rational thought clean out of my head.

It was like my best fantasy coming to life right before my very eyes, and after our lecture ended I asked Changbin to wait for me while I made a phone call to Chan. “Y/N!” came his cheerful voice from the other end. “Guess who got to dissect a liver today?”

I wrinkled my nose at the nasty image. Chan was studying to enter the medical program which meant a lot of his daily life centered around the human body and all sorts of things that could go wrong with it. “Chan,” I whined. “You’re talking to someone who can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“I know,” Chan sniggered. “Does this mean you’re not gonna want to eat lunch with me today? You know I’ll pay, of course, I got a raise at the cafe.”

“Well,” I started, desperately searching for the right words. “I actually have to meet with my professor for this essay I’ve been having trouble with.”

“No problem,” Chan said. “I’ll bring you takeout for dinner. Doesn’t your roommate have practice tonight?”

I glanced back at Changbin with a guilty conscience. Why did Chan have to be so sweet all the time? “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“No liver talk, I promise,” Chan giggled and I hung up the phone before he could make me feel even worse than I already did.

“You want to get some lunch?” Changbin asked with his hands dug inside his pockets as he stood in front of my desk.

“Like, with me?” I asked warily because I wasn’t sure where the line stood on professionalism when it involves eating with an ex-boyfriend.

“Who else?” Changbin said. “I figured we could use a break from the phone calls.”

“I don’t know...” I answered hesitantly because Chan would probably lose his shit if he discovered I went out anywhere with Changbin.

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N,” Changbin said. “My job is to make sure my employees are well taken care of.”

“I guess,” I sighed, reaching down for my purse on the floor. “One lunch together won’t hurt anything.”

But Changbin seemed awfully smug, patiently waiting for me to gather my belongings, stuffing my phone with an unanswered text from Chan inside my side pocket. It’s almost like the universe was conspiring against me, doing its very best to try and force me into the worst situations possible. Here’s an irrational thought: what if Chan happened to decide to go out for lunch today? He might find me with Changbin and I couldn’t think of a worse scenario. Of course, I suppose it doesn’t necessarily have to be Chan who finds us. For example, if his younger step-brother was to suddenly wander in the building at this very moment...

“Medusa!”

Curse you, universe!

“Felix?”

“I brought us lunch!” Felix chirped brightly, holding up a picnic basket as he waltzed right up to my desk with far more confidence than necessary.

I blinked my eyes rapidly, unable to process the idea that Felix was standing in the middle of the company’s lobby. “Is it poisoned?” I asked, trying not to alert him to any possible wrongdoing.

Felix ignored me, turning around to face Changbin with a critical gaze. “Seo? Is that you?”

“Felix,” Changbin acknowledged, frowning as if he was the last person on earth he wanted to see, and I could share the sentiment.

“Fuck,” Felix cursed, taking a step back. “You still look really young. I was surprised when Y/N told me you were her new boss.”

“I didn’t tell you that,” I said, opening the flaps of the basket only to let out a disgruntled sigh when I realized he had only brought a bag of chips and a tray of cookies.

“And what are you doing these days?” Changbin asked.

“Freelance work, mostly,” Felix replied as if he really needed to lie to Changbin about his lack of a suitable occupation.

“I forgot what you majored in,” Changbin said. “It was hard to keep up since you changed your concentration like a dozen times.”

I couldn’t hold back my laugh, even when Felix sneered in my direction. “Philosophy.”

“Interesting,” Changbin said, nodding his head. “I’m actually surprised to hear that. You never settled on anything.”

Seo Changbin needed to be careful because his charm points were dramatically increasing the more he mocked my husband’s step-brother. “I actually just finished my Masters.”

“Really?” Changbin said. “This coming from the same boy who used to party with Hwang Hyunjin at all the Fraternities, even if they were on a different campus.”

“It was just Freshman year,” Felix defended himself.

“Well,” Changbin started, “I’m glad to hear about your graduation. Y/N and I were actually just about to head out to lunch.”

I winced at his words, withering under Felix’s accusing watch. “Is that so?”

Changbin carefully studied the two of us. “I’ll be waiting in my car, Y/N.”

I grabbed my bag while pushing the picnic basket back in Felix’s direction. “I swear to god if you tell Chan about this, I’ll castrate you in your sleep.”

“We’ll see about that,” Felix growled, and that was the moment I realized that I was treading very dangerous waters.

Changbin drove us to a charming restaurant about two blocks away from the main company building. He pulled right up to the sidewalk, handing his keys to the waiting carhop as if he had done this about a thousand times. But I guess that was pretty likely considering just how well-off he was ten years later. “Impressive,” I remarked to him, reluctantly accepting his outstretched hand as he helped me out of his car.

“Yeah?” Changbin said, offering me a wink. “Maybe I’m trying to impress you.”

“You’re a dangerous man, Seo Changbin,” I told him, bowing slightly to the waiting doorman who kindly ushered us inside.

This was why the pretty girls always lusted after Changbin. When we were both still in high school, Changbin epitomized the phrase #BoyfriendGoals because he was super attractive, incredibly smart, and athletic enough to earn himself a shining record after an impressive baseball season. And I was just as mindless as the rest of the zombies chasing him down in the parking lot at school or squealing his name in the hallways between classes.

“I eat here all the time,” Changbin assured me, flashing the hostess a dazzling smile while handing her his card.

“Right this way, Mr. Seo,” the hostess curtsied, ignoring the long line of waiting patrons who apparently didn’t matter as much as my new boss as she led us to a private table. “Your waitress will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” I said politely, eyes wide as I took in the gorgeous chandelier dropping from the high-domed ceiling.

“Close your mouth, Y/N,” Changbin said. “You act like you’ve never been somewhere like this before.”

“Not exactly,” I said because the nicest place Chan had ever taken me was an Olive Garden and that had ended poorly after Chan accidentally knocked his shoulder against a poor server on his way back to the table causing an avalanche of salad and breadsticks.

“Bang should be taking you to places like this all the time,” Changbin commented, perhaps a casual observation to anyone else.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Chan and I prefer to keep things low-key.”

“Should I have taken you to Applebees instead?”

“How funny.”

“I’m kidding, Y/N,” Changbin said, reaching down to adjust the buttons on his coat sleeve. “You’ve changed a lot since college.”

“Since we dated you mean?” I asked with an arched brow.

“Well,” Changbin started, “if you want to think of it like that.”

“Hmmm,” I briefly meditated, studying Changbin’s expression carefully. “How else should I think about it.”

Changbin tsked, raising a hand to signal for a nearby waiter. “I don’t mean to suggest anything.”

The waiter approached our table with purposed steps. “How may I help you, sir?”

“A wine menu?” Changbin asked, nodding generously when the waiter returned with his requested selection.

“You make a beautiful couple,” the waiter gushed while he pulled out a thick leather wallet, flipping to a fresh page.

“Oh! We’re not-”

“-A bottle of pinot noir, please,” Changbin said, returning the menu without bothering to correct the waiter’s observation.

“Right away, sir,” the waiter agreed.

I held my tongue until he was further away, bothering an older couple who were probably complaining about something to do with their food. “Changbin,” I warned him. “You should be careful.”

“It was a harmless mistake,” Changbin said. “How can I possibly come between you and Bang?”

I worried my bottom lip between my teeth because it sounded less like a dismissal and more like a challenge.

The sun was already setting by the time I returned home thanks to one of Changbin’s business partners who refused to leave the office building until they had a chance to speak to him. I was low on patience, tired from an exhausting day of dealing with telemarketers insisting our company needed the latest software for our clientele. There was only a limited number of times I could tell somebody to fuck off before inevitably shouting into the other end that I was in no way interested in whatever useless product they were trying to shove down my throat, complete with some kind of scammy discount and an opportunity to be represented on their website.

To make matters worse, my feet were blistered from wearing heels all day and my shoulders ached from slouching over my computer to answer emails and monitor the progress of Changbin’s latest project. My only saving grace was the message Chan had sent me earlier telling me that he had already clocked out at work, which meant I could probably guilt him into giving me one of his trademarked messages. I mean, all I wanted to do was curl up next to Chan in bed and sleep for the rest of the day.

But it looked like my desires would have to wait because as soon as I unlocked the door to the house, I could immediately sense that something was wrong. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously walked into the living room to find Chan and Felix busy with some kind of video game on our HD TV, volume high until I walked in the room. Chan waited until I called his name, reaching for the remote to mute the TV before tossing his controller onto the coffee table. From across the room, Felix’s eyes were alight with mischief.

“How was work today?” Chan asked with a tone that I only ever heard when my husband was feeling particularly pissed off about something, and I had a sneaking suspicion it involved me in some capacity.

“It was fine,” I said, deciding to play it safe while I kept my complaints to myself.

Felix smirked in my direction, whistling to himself as he reached for his game controller. “Felix told me something interesting today.”

“Oh did he?” I asked, wondering just how much pain Felix could tolerate if I marched over to him right now and hit him with an umbrella.

“He said he tried to have lunch with you.”

“I was busy.”

“With Seo Changbin?”

Felix was definitely going to die tonight. That little snitch deserved every ounce of punishment I was starting to formulate inside my head. “He invited me out instead.”

“I got that,” Chan snapped and I knew my husband was in a foul mood. I’m talking about the kind of mood that usually sent me scampering for the safety of the bunkers. Like the time some drunk asshole rear-ended Chan’s precious convertible while we were sitting in downtown traffic. Or the time when we were Freshmen in college and Chan confronted Changbin after finding out that he had been cheating on me.

But this time the problem was me which meant I couldn’t just hide from Chan and wait for things to go back to normal. “Honey,” I attempted to reassure him. “It was just lunch.”

“Yeah? But that doesn’t seem like keeping things strictly professional to me, Y/N.”

“He’s my boss now, I can’t just tell him no.”

“Actually, you can,” Chan disagreed, now refusing to look at me. “How would you like it if I ate with my new superintendent?”

“Depends on if she offered to pay or not.”

“Y/N.”

“Chan,” I pouted. “I’m really sorry! He just surprised me.”

“It makes me wonder what else you might be doing with him,” Chan snarked.

Meanwhile, Felix calmly continued to play his video game while wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. “Are you accusing me of having an affair?”

“Why not?” Chan shrugged. “Since we’re keeping secrets from each other.”

“It was just one lunch,” I shouted. “He’s never done anything like this before. Most of the time I’m alone in the lobby taking his stupid phone calls.”

“And that’s all I should ever hear about,” Chan growled.

“You’re making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes before remembering just how much Chan hated it when I did that to him.

“Y/N,” Chan addressed me sternly, deciding to abandon his seat on the couch to crowd me in the foyer. “If this was anyone else, I wouldn’t make it into a bigger deal, but this is someone you used to fuck while running around campus bragging about it to everyone who would listen...which was usually me!”

“He doesn’t mean anything to me,” I said. “I already told you that!”

“You’ve said a lot of things recently,” Chan said. “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s your brother’s fault since he’s always looking to cause a fight between us,” I said, glaring at Felix while he continued to play the part of the perfect little angel that Chan always considered him.

“Don’t drag Felix into this, he has nothing to do with anything!”

“Oh, don’t be stupid, Chan,” I huffed. “We fight more about Felix than we do about Changbin.”

“Stupid?!”

Oh, Jesus, Y/N, when are you going to learn to watch your big mouth? “Channie, I’m tired of fighting all the time. I feel like we’re always fighting.”

“Yeah? Well, you give me a lot of reasons to stay mad at you.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I groaned. “We never fought this much when we were dating.”

“Is that so? You think our marriage is the problem?”

I froze at his implications. At this point, Felix might as well drag out a bucket of popcorn because this was probably the most interesting drama he had watched all year. “Chan, you can’t honestly believe that.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Chan said, shaking his head. “But maybe I’ll give you some time to think about it.”

“Chan!” I whined, fighting back tears as I watched him turn his back on me. For the first time since we had met, Chan was leaving an argument unresolved, choosing to lock himself away in our bedroom while I struggled to keep myself together in the middle of our foyer.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” Felix whispered into the silent room, waving his fingers at me because he had gotten exactly what he wanted.

Felix’s birthday often turned into a multiple-day affair because he always wanted the best that money could buy. Since Chan and I still weren’t speaking to one another, Chan was taking the brunt of party preparations which meant Felix was practically over the moon with excitement. And why shouldn’t he be? He hit the metaphorical jackpot because he somehow got me in the doghouse while he soaked up all of Chan’s attention.

“Y/N,” Felix whined. “My toast is burnt!”

“Sorry,” I murmured softly, taking his plate even though the bread looked perfectly fine. Meanwhile, Chan chose not to say a word, heavily engrossed in his laptop and doing his absolute best to pretend I was invisible.

“What about this, Felix?” he asked, tilting his laptop screen so that his brother could see whatever it was that probably cost hundreds of dollars. On the other hand, I couldn’t even find the courage to ask Chan for his credit card so that I could replace the broken stool at our counter.

“That’s perfect, Channie!” Felix grinned, hanging off his brother’s shoulder like the little pest he was.

Our Amazon shopping cart was steadily filling with Felix’s party supplies. But I guess it was just Chan’s account now since he had changed the password without telling me. I tried to order a new curtain for the bathroom, only to repeatedly watch the warning screen pop-up with every refresh of the page. “Who do you want at your party?” Chan asked Felix.

“Hyunjin, Jisung...” Felix started, listing out each name while I winced every time because our house would probably end up completely trashed at this rate.

“Whatever you want,” Chan said, apparently forgetting the last time Jisung came over only to break one of my grandmother’s expensive vases. Since it was my stuff, he probably didn’t care. “I have to leave soon,” Chan said, wordlessly clicking on the ‘place your order ’ button before logging off.

“Will you be gone all day again?” Felix pouted, jutting out his bottom lip and offering his very best puppy dog eyes.

23-years-old my ass.

“I’ll do my best,” Chan promised his brother. “Do you need anything while I’m out.”

“More chocolate cereal?”

10-years-old more likely.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Chan cooed to Felix, ruffling his hair before snatching his coat from my outstretched hand, refusing to even acknowledge my existence.

Felix waited until Chan was gone to lean in across the counter. “You two are so cute, Medusa.”

“I fucking hate you,” I said, aggressively attacking the grease stain on the stainless steel pot I was currently washing.

“Whatever,” Felix shrugged. “Will you ask Minho to come to my birthday party?”

“There’s not a fucking chance in hell that I’m asking him,” I snapped.

“Why?” Felix posed the question as if he felt absolutely no shame. “I like Minho and I want him to be there.”

“Fuck off,” I retorted, drying my hands against the rough texture of the dishtowel.

Felix sniffled, reaching for his phone and holding it up to his ear. “Channie? Yeah, Y/N was being really mean to me-”

“-Jesus, fine, I’ll ask him,” I quickly interrupted the little Devil. “How old are you turning again?”

“24!” Felix grinned.

“Then act like it,” I muttered while dialing Minho’s number.

There were only two rings before he answered. “It’s too early on Saturday for this bullshit, Y/N,” came Minho’s pleasant voice from the other end.

“You sleep too much anyway,” I returned. “I have something to ask you.”

“It better be pretty fucking important.”

“Will you come to Felix’s stupid birthday party this Friday?” I asked him, ignoring Felix’s bright smile as he tried to listen in on our conversation.

“Did you buy booze?”

“I’m sure Chan will buy the little bastard all the booze he wants,” I said, pushing Felix out of the way.

“What time?” Minho asked. “I’m a very busy man, Y/N.”

“The hell you are,” I snorted. “9:00 PM. Don’t be late! I’ll be the pathetic piece of trash sitting on the couch alone.”

“It’s about time you learn, Y/N,” Felix remarked, giggling when I threw the dishtowel at him.

“Still in trouble with hubby?” Minho asked. “I hear you have to stay separated for a year before the courts grant divorces these days.”

“You’re an asshole,” I said. “Should I put you down on the guest list?”

“Of course,” Minho said. “Underlined because I’m a VIP”

I hung up on him before he could dig his grave any deeper.

“Don’t burn that,” Felix scolded me, hovering by my side to play the part of Gordon Ramsay while I sweated my ass off to cook everything on his stupid party menu.

“It’s not burnt,” I grumbled.

“I hope you’re not wearing that to my party,” Felix said, casting a critical eye over my outfit.

I reached down to adjust the waistband of my skirt. “What’s wrong with it?”

“This is a classy party, Y/N, and you look like a hooker.”

“Go help your brother or something,” I said, doing my best to be nice since it was Felix’s birthday. I could manage some form of kindness even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Chan’s fine,” Felix waved me off even though I was certain I saw Chan struggling to hang up lights on the balcony just moments ago when I went to change my clothes.

I glanced at the clock above the stove. “Your fellow party animals will be here soon.”

“You’re not cool enough for those references,” Felix told me as he straightened his tie.

“I wasn’t trying to be,” I said, wiping my forehead with a nearby towel. My makeup was probably smeared but I didn’t care. Who was I hoping to impress anyway? The only person I dressed up for was Chan and he could care less about my appearance.

And it was only a few minutes later when the doorbell started to ring. I took a deep breath to try and reassure myself that I could make it through tonight without another Advil. “Someone’s here!” Felix squeaked, knocking his shoulder against mine in his haste to answer the door.

“No matter who it is, I’ll still be in hell,” I muttered, closing my eyes when I recognized Hyunjin’s voice mixing with Felix’s.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin sang, poking his head in the kitchen as if he owned the place. “There you are! Looking all pretty for us.”

“That was the goal,” I half-heartedly quipped back, turning off the stove once I declared Felix’s stupid Tteok-bokki cooked enough.

“Your legs look good,” Hyunjin said, abruptly leaning in closer. “Are you even wearing anything under that skirt?”

“Hyunjin!” Felix shouted his friend’s name from the living room. “Come check out the decorations.”

Hyujin blew a kiss in my direction, tossing me a poor excuse for a wink. “Bye, Y/N!”

Maybe one more Advil wouldn’t hurt.

The party was in full swing by the time Minho finally arrived, greeting Felix with some kind of cheesy handshake. It was too late for me and I had already resigned myself to the futon of isolation in the living room, mourning the loss of one of my good dishes thanks to Han Jisung deciding to request something fancier than our regular set. “Sorry, Y/N,” Jisung had apologized. “I’m sure you can easily replace it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my dead grandmother has another lying around somewhere,” I snarled in his direction, ignoring his wide-eyed look of disbelief as I searched for the broom.

Minho eventually finished his conversation with Felix, offering me a sympathetic look while occupying the last remaining chair. “Y/N?”

“Oh, I’m doing just fine,” I told him.

“You look miserable,” Minho informed me, throwing up his feet on my glass coffee table even though I had told him countless times before to keep his dirty socks on the floor.

“Chan hates me,” I said. “Felix is happy.”

“Ah,” Minho nodded. “Trouble in paradise?”

“It’s all Felix’s fault,” I sniped. “He found out I went to lunch with Changbin and told Chan because he knew it would lead to an argument.”

“He still doesn’t like you?” Minho snorted as if the idea were amusing.

“Felix has hated me since the beginning of time. He was brought to this Earth to cause me misery.”

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” Minho said. “Where is Chan, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “If he wasn’t with Felix, then you might want to check the balcony. I think I saw him sneaking the Advil bottle out there earlier.”

Minho snickered. “You don’t even realize it, but you two are grossly similar. I’m sure Chan would have preferred a quiet dinner out somewhere.”

“Well, Felix always gets what he wants,” I said. “It’s been this way since high school.”

Minho considered me for a moment. “In his defense, Chan has always been Felix’s best friend. They’ve been attached at the hip since they were kids, but then you came into the picture. Suddenly, Chan isn’t as interested in spending all his time with Felix any more.”

“Are you saying I need to find Felix a girlfriend?”

“Y/N,” Minho said softly. “I’m just saying, maybe you need to think about things from Felix’s perspective for once. You were an only child, so you can’t understand what it means to share a close relationship with a brother.”

“Hmm, well you’re like a brother to me,” I teased him.

“Ugh,” Minho gagged. “You’ve had my dick in your mouth before, Y/N, please never say that again.”

“I was trying to be sweet,” I said. “But you ruined it.”

“Did I?” Minho smirked, glancing up at something behind me. “Are you having a good time, Felix?”

“We’re out of beer,” Felix interrupted, face suddenly mere inches from mine.

“You shouldn’t drink like a fish.”

“Medusa,” Felix tried again, holding out a ring of car keys. “Make yourself useful and buy us some more beer.”

I rolled my eyes but acquiesced. “Whatever you want, your majesty.”

I hated winter in New York City because the sidewalks were icy all the time and I was constantly in danger of rolling my ankle. Nevertheless, I tolerated the snow and wind by trading my heels for rain boots and wrapping my body in the thickest coat I owned. Normally, I might consider walking to the convenience store, but tonight I knew my fingers would be nothing but frozen icicles if I attempted that perilous journey.

Thankfully, the traffic was fairly light this late at night which allowed a relatively quick drive to the store, parking my corvette at the sidewalk. I walked inside with a muffled greeting to the store attendant, searching down the aisle to where the beer was stocked in the freezers. “He didn’t even tell me what he wanted,” I scoffed, deciding on the expensive Corona from the bottom shelf since Felix always liked things more when they cost a lot of money.

“Having a party?” the store attendant joked, accepting my debit card after ringing up the cases.

“Something like that,” I said, wondering if that was always his assumption if someone bought more than one bottle of the nasty smelling beverage.

Meanwhile, it had started snowing again when I walked back outside, popping the trunk to store the beer until I finally returned home. I switched on the ignition and turned on the heat to its fullest setting before sitting back in my seat to wrap my arms around myself, fighting off a series of chills. The action reminded me of Junior Year when Chan and I used to make late-night trips to the gas station near his apartment complex. We’d buy all sorts of unnecessary snacks, driving back together because we had planned a movie marathon of Harry Potter. Chan always complained about the films I liked, but he watched them anyway because he knew I enjoyed them.

I came to a stop at a red light, frowning when I noticed that nobody was coming in either direction. “Change already,” I ordered the traffic light as if it could possibly accommodate my request.

“I’ll teach you patience, Y/N,” Chan once told me after we waited nearly an hour in a heavy downpour outside the comic book shop because he just had to have some kind of rare edition figurine.

The traffic light eventually turned green and I rolled out into the intersection, never noticing the reckless SUV until mere seconds before it crashed into the side of my car.

I had the worst luck in the world when it came to relationships. First, there was my tired rendezvous with Minho in high school, blowing my best friend in the bathroom because he’d always fuck me with his fingers afterward. Then, there was that slimy bastard Seo Changbin who I willingly gave my virginity to, thinking he was the love of my life. That was before I found out he was cheating on me with some sleazy cheerleader thanks to a couple of photos surfacing on Facebook. My heart was instantly broken, pride in shambles as I spent an entire week hiding out in my dormitory ignoring all phone calls and text messages as I cried over a boy who never deserved my attention in the first place.

I plucked a few strands of grass from the ground next to my feet, savoring the first taste of sunlight I had allowed myself since that unfortunate discovery. Who the hell did Seo Changbin think he was anyway? Playing with my heart like that as if it meant absolutely nothing to him.

At least I wasn’t sad anymore, having spent enough time crying over the destructive boy. Now, all I could think about was smacking that stupid smug grin off his face while thoroughly purging my built-up frustrations...“Y/N?”

I turned around quickly at the sound of Chan’s voice, rising to my feet to brush the loose grass and dirt from my jeans. “Channie,” I said, nervously wringing my hands in front of me. Chan was probably mad at me since I had been ignoring him all week.

“Are you okay?” he asked instead, tone surprisingly gentle as he stopped in front of me.

“Not really,” I told him honestly.

“I didn’t think so,” Chan said, features hardening. “I’ll beat the shit out of Seo for you.”

I shook my head. “That won’t do any good.”

“But if it makes you feel better,” Chan said, reaching out to delicately swipe his thumb under my eyes. “You aren’t sleeping.”

It was more of a statement rather than a question, but I still felt the need to reassure him. “I promise that I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Chan said, offering me a kind smile. “I can tell, you know?”

“Yeah you’re good at that,” I groused.

“I’m pretty good at a lot of things when it comes to you,” Chan admitted, eyes holding a pure kind of affection as they appraised me.

“I’m glad I have you,” I said, letting out a sigh as I allowed my head to rest against the center of his chest. “You don’t think I’m stupid for trying things out with Changbin?”

“You’ve always liked him,” Chan said with a bitter tone that sounded more like a jealous lover rather than a friend.

I chose not to say anything. “I hope the two of them make each other miserable.”

Chan chuckled. “Is this your form of revenge?”

“I don’t think it’ll work out in my favor,” I said, pressing myself even closer to Chan, pausing when my hand drug across his stomach. “Holy shit, Channie, you weren’t kidding about the gym.”

“Did you not believe me?”

“Who are you trying to impress?” I grinned, propping my chin against his sternum to make it easier to look into his eyes.

“It’s always been the same person,” Chan said vaguely, dimples on display as he considered me. “I hope Seo didn’t destroy your faith in relationships.”

“It wouldn’t be entirely his fault,” I sighed. “All my relationships have been complete failures.

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, brushing a light kiss across my forehead. “Maybe it’s because you’ve never tried the right guy.”

The memory was laced with something warm, an association that stood in stark contradiction to my current condition, slowly opening my eyes to a pulsing room, somehow much too bright for my pupils to adjust. Was I alive? I wondered because I couldn’t really feel anything which was certainly disarming. But then there was a familiar smell, rancid and burning, and it made me feel like I was definitely not in any sort of happy afterlife. There was also the problem of the blurry figure slowly coming into focus next to me, fiddling with an array of wires twisting together with the sounds of a machine distantly clicking in the background. I watched through hooded eyes as the now perceivable person in question handled an impressively large needle, pinching my skin painfully at the juncture of my elbow.

“Han Jisung,” I began, startling him from where he was checking the IV. “Just put a fucking needle into my arm. What hellish realm have I descended into?”

“Y/N!” Jisung squealed loudly, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss against my forehead.

“What the hell was that for?”

“For not dying,” Jisung sighed in relief. “When you came in, there was nothing but blood and glass everywhere!... Oh, and Chan may or may not have a fine against him for beating the living shit out of the asshole that hit you.”

“Why are you so loud?” I groaned, palming my forehead because the room was still swimming into focus. “What happened?”

“You probably don’t remember,” Jisung said. “It was a pretty bad concussion, but you were in a car accident.”

“I was?” I questioned, struggling to recall anything past a few minutes ago when I first realized that incompetent Han Jisung was sticking pointy objects into my veins.

“Chan was so upset,” Jisung said. “He wanted to do the surgery, but the superintendent wouldn’t let him.”

“Surgery?” I repeated. “I had surgery?”

“Cuz’ of your ribs,” Jisung said quietly as if finally realizing that he probably shouldn’t be saying all this to me at once, especially if the persistent beeping of the heart monitor was something to be concerned about.

“What’s wrong with my ribs?” I asked, somewhat panicking as I felt down my chest, noticing the thick bandage wrapped around my upper body.

“Chill, Y/N,” Jisung placated, reaching around me to adjust the monitor. “Now I can’t get an accurate reading!”

“So sorry to inconvenience you,” I said with a hoarse voice, reaching up to quickly wrap my hand around my throat. “Is there something wrong with my voice?”

“Well, you’ve been out for three days so...”

“Three days!”

Now I was definitely panicking, full-on hysteria as the heart monitor loudly detected the irregular contraction of the muscle thundering aggressively against my chest. It was enough to alert the doctor on duty, walking into my room to check on his patient, scolding Jisung harshly as he filled a syringe with a clear liquid. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he said kindly, injecting the fluid into my IV. “Just relax.”

My eyelids fluttered closed, overwhelmed by a disjointed sense of calm that gradually pulled me back under the current of drug-induced bliss.

“Sweetie.”

My eyes flew open at the sound of his voice, the best wake-up call in the whole world. I slowly turned my head to the side, taking in the sight of my disheveled husband, eyes blood-shot with heavy dark bags haunting tight circles against his pale skin. “Channie?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Chan sniffled, fresh tears swelling his cheeks as he leaned in closer to grip tightly to my hand. “It’s all my fault.”

I considered him closely, wondering what he could possibly mean by accepting blame for whatever was causing him obvious pain. I faintly remember Jisung telling me about am accident, but it was difficult to really think back any further, like a wall had enclosed around my brain, refusing to allow anything else to come into consciousness. But Chan didn’t need to cry, he was usually the best part of my life, waking up in bed together to share sweet kisses or eagerly waiting for him to come home and swoon over my newest K-Drama obsession. “Why are you sad?” I asked him, reaching out to do my best and wipe away those nasty tears.

“You wouldn’t answer your phone,” Chan cried, heart-wrenching sobs that broke my heart with every heavy inhale. “I didn’t know where you were.”

“Is that why you’re upset?” I asked, wiping away a few mischievous curls that had wandered into his eyes.

“I found you in the intersection,” Chan whispered. “And the car...” he trailed off with a choking gasp as if the details were too horrific to describe.

“I’m here now, Channie,” I said, desperate to relieve his sadness. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

Chan nodded furiously, pressing a wet kiss to the back of my hand. “I can’t lose you like that, sweetie.”

“Well, I plan to stick around for a while,” I said, earning me a half-smile in return. “Channie,” I whispered, glancing around the room conspiratorially. “Is there anything good to eat in this place?”

This time Chan did laugh and it was the best medicine I could possibly have.

“Vitals?” Chan asked, lingering around the poor nurse who clearly wasn’t expecting this much attention over one patient when she clocked in this morning.

“I already checked them,” the nurse informed him, writing down something on the chart clipped to the edge of my bed. I sipped my water as I watched the two of them, wondering if Chan had been this overbearing the entire time.

“Temperature?”

“98 degrees.”

“Blood pressure?”

“122/75”

“Respiration?”

“Chan,” I whispered softly, immediately drawing my husband’s attention who was at my side in an instant. “I think the nurse knows how to do her job.”

The poor woman shot me a grateful smile as she re-clipped my chart, hurrying out of the room as if she couldn’t possibly escape fast enough. “Sorry,” Chan said, taking his seat next to me. “I’m just worried.”

“I get discharged tomorrow,” I told him. “Pretty sure that means I’m just fine.”

“But your leg,” Chan whined, fussily messing with the large cast, tucking the blankets in securely.

“It’ll heal,” I said, frowning as I picked at the squishy jello the nursing staff had brought in earlier. “Isn’t there anything else to eat?”

Chan tsked. “That’s good for you, Y/N. It’s full of necessary vitamins.”

I should have known better than to ask my doctor husband if I could possibly have something that actually had flavor to eat. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, Chan refused to waver from the nasty daily meals I was brought, much to my disappointment. “I’d kill for a burger.”

“Too much fat,” Chan said, turning down the idea before I could possibly try to negotiate.

“It physically hurts me to eat,” I tried. “I think they’re secretly plotting my death.”

“Y/N,” Chan scolded lightly. “There’s a reason why we serve this to patients, alright?”

I frowned at him but shoved a spoonful of the nasty substance in my mouth, earning me a pleased smile in response. “Happy?”

“You can have better food tomorrow,” Chan said, pausing as he reached down to check his phone notifications. “Minho is here,” he grumbled. “I guess I’ll go get him from the lobby before he gets lost.”

“Thank you, darling,” I chirped, accepting his brief kiss.

“I’ve seen worse,” Minho declared, ignoring Chan’s disbelieving scoff.

“You obviously weren’t here when she was first brought in,” Chan growled to him.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Minho asked, disregarding Chan who had gone back to check the dozens of machines somehow monitoring my every possible bodily function.

“Hungry,” I grimaced, pointing to my discarded container.

Minho lifted it curiously, bringing it his nose before he let out an unattractive grunt. “Is this garbage?”

“Don’t encourage her,” Chan said, reaching for my chart for the millionth time that day. “I’ll be right back, Y/N.”

“Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes once his back was turned.

I waited until Chan was gone before desperately reaching out for Minho. “You’ve got to help me, Minho! I can’t stand another day of jello and mashed potatoes. Get me a Big Mac and I’ll give you the number of one of my work acquaintances.”

Minho raised an interested brow. “Scale?”

“Oh, she’s definitely an 8...please!”

“That’s impossible to turn down, Y/N,” Minho grinned. “Give me ten minutes.”

I snatched his sleeve before he could walk away. “Make sure Chan doesn’t see.”

“So ask Han Jisung to fuck something up, got it.”

“You’re my best friend in the entire world. The rest of my life will be spent in your servitude.”

Minho offered me a brief salute and I solemnly nodded my head while ignoring the way my stomach growled.

It was growing dark outside and I’m pretty sure Jisung had accidentally given me too much of whatever pain medicine I had been prescribed. I could barely keep my eyes open as Chan settled next to me on his chair. “Y/N,” he said softly, picking at an invisible string on his suit pants. “I want to talk to you about the fight we had.”

My exhaustion vanished in a flash. “Okay,” I said, even though I had been hoping Chan would just forget that the fight even happened.

“I owe you an apology,” Chan said. “For acting like a jealous prick. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It’s my fault too,” I said. “I know how you feel about him, but I still went out anyway.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Chan said, swallowing down the lie even though I could always read him like a book. “But every time I think about Seo Changbin, I can’t help but remember Freshman year.”

“You act like he broke your heart instead,” I tried to joke, but Chan was everything but amused.

“Yeah, he did break your heart, Y/N, and I’ll never forgive him for it. He was an arrogant bastard back then, and I’m sure that hasn’t changed much.”

“Not really,” I agreed, recalling our prior lunch arrangement.

“And I’ll never be okay with the fact that you work with your ex-boyfriend, but since you love the job so much, I can’t possibly fight with you anymore,” Chan said. “I should trust you as my wife.”

“I’m not remotely interested in Changbin,” I said. “It just sucks that he’s got good connections.”

“But if he tries anything on you...”

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “I would never do anything to hurt you, even if his thighs look super good these days.”

“Y/N.”

“I know, Channie,” I giggled, reaching for his hand. “Trust me, alright? I don’t plan to work there forever. Fingers crossed for a promotion to the publisher.”

“I’ll pray every night if I have to,” Chan said. “As for Felix...”

“Don’t worry about him,” I said. “I know that I should try harder to get along with Felix.”

“It’s a two-way street,” Chan countered. “I’ve spoken to him about everything.”

“You have?” I wavered. “What did he say?”

“Well, he feels really bad about the accident,” Chan said. “I think he realizes how much better things would be if you guys were on friendlier terms.”

“He really looks up to you,” I said, recalling Minho’s words from before. “I hope he doesn’t feel like I’m trying to steal you away.”

“Felix and I have always been close,” Chan said. “We both had a hard time moving here from Australia. But at the end of the day, we could rely on each other..”

“High school wasn’t very good to either of you,” I said.

“Well, except for you of course,” Chan said, attempting a smile.

“They were mean to you, Channie,” I said, “and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I’ve gotten over that,” Chan insisted. “But Felix always took everything harder than me. He wasn’t very social until college.”

“He should have stuck to being an introvert,” I said. “Look at the kind of friends he ended up with.”

“Are you saying Hyunjin is a bad influence?”

“Have you been around for our interactions?

“I’ve definitely noticed, Y/N. Remember what happened that one time when we went camping-”

“Anyways,” I loudly interrupted. “It seems like we both have a lot of things to work on.”

“But that’s why we talk about it,” Chan said, pressing a soothing kiss to the wrinkled crease of my forehead. “That’s what married couples do, right?”

“Ah, Channie, when did you become a walking cliche?”

“Should I be more serious, then?”

“You’re getting there with the doctor’s jacket.”

“Really?” Chan asked, sitting back in his chair. “Is this your way of asking us to try some kind of kinky roleplay?”

“I don’t know, but it might be interesting. Can I call you Dr. Bang?”

Chan was positively beaming. “You can always call me Daddy instead.”

“Darling, I think they accidentally gave you my prescription of morphine.”

If anyone were to ever ask me, then I’d tell them that signing hospital discharge papers was about as difficult as applying for a loan. “How many more are there?” I wondered, scribbling a messy signature at the bottom of the last sheet Jisung had brought for me to sign.

“I think that’s it.”

“You think?” I snorted, watching Jisung sort through each page carefully like he really had no idea what he was holding.

“Each year they add more shit for the patients,” Jisung explained. “I’m pretty sure they do it just to confuse me.”

“Everything confuses you, Jisung,” I said, patting his arm sympathetically. “Has Chan come in yet?”

“He’s on his way with Felix.”

“Goodie,” I grumbled. “Are you working late today?”

“Someone has to help since Chan insists on taking the day off,” Jisung said.

“I hope they aren’t planning on letting you do the surgeries.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

I kept my mouth shut, deciding to let Jisung live in his deluded fantasy world where he could somehow manage to cure patients of their ailments as opposed to causing them. Unsurprisingly, since the moment I had first met him, Jisung had always been completely sure of himself even if he was whole-heartedly wrong. For example, when we were all seniors in college, Chan refused to speak to Jisung for an entire week after the two of them received an F on their group project. Apparently, Jisung forgot to submit the lab report on time and waited an additional week before approaching the professor to politely ask if he could still bring it to her after class.

“Channie,” I tried to console him. “You know Jisung didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, but my GPA will still suffer the consequences,” Chan had sulked, whining about how difficult it was to maintain a friendship with Han Jisung.

Yet, when Chan was first hired by the hospital, Chan sent in a very persuasive reference for Jisung, encouraging the higher-ups to offer him a nursing position. The three of us went out to celebrate Jisung’s new job offer, nursing shots of bad vodka while eating rather terrible sushi. “Chan,” a very tipsy Jisung had said. “I love you so much, man.”

“Oi, keep your hands to yourself,” Chan had grouched despite wearing the biggest grin on his face...

“Y/N,” Jisung interrupted my recollection. “I think Chan just got here.”

“Finally,” I sighed. “I thought I would never be able to get the smell of alcohol out of my nose.”

“Thank God you’re here,” I said the moment Chan and Felix walked into my hospital room. “I’m pretty sure I had to sign my life away to leave this place, but it’s totally worth it.”

Chan rolled his eyes playfully. “I see you’re feeling better this morning.”

“I’ve been better for days,” I said. “But my doctor wouldn’t allow me to so much as breathe the wrong way.”

“Is that so?” Chan asked, reaching down for my discarded bag. “Your doctor sounds like a real asshole.”

“Yeah, but he’s pretty hot. I’d totally fuck him if I wasn’t already married.”

“It sounds like you have a thing for doctors?” Chan asked. “Does this husband of yours know that?”

“He probably does,” I said. “But I feel like he’ll probably leave me to masturbate on my own for months because of this dumb cast.”

“Y/N,” Chan scoffed. “It’s important for you to heal properly.”

I groaned loudly. “Why are you so responsible?”

Chan carefully handed me my bag. “Make sure you have everything. I’m going to talk to your surgeon one more time before we leave.”

It was difficult to prevent myself from protesting, finally realizing just how quiet it was with just me and Felix in the room. “Hi, Felix,” I said, awkwardly adjusting my blankets once Chan had disappeared from sight.

“Y/N,” Felix said, gaze focused on some unidentifiable point on the floor.

“What have you been up to?” I asked, trying to sound cheery because I didn’t like the look of despondence on Felix’s normally bright visage.

“I owe you an apology, Y/N,” Felix said with a vulnerable tone I had never heard from him before. “It’s because of me that you got hurt.”

“Felix,” I hesitated because this was uncharted territory for the both of us, a distant cry from our usual taunting banter. “You don’t need to do that. Everything’s fine now.”

“Your leg,” Felix whispered as an unexpected tear slid down the side of his face.

“It’s just a fracture,” I shrugged. “I’ll be just fine in a few months.”

“Just a fracture,” Felix parroted back, voice thick with emotion. “Why aren’t you mad at me? Because you should be. I’m always getting in your way.”

“Is that what you think?” I asked, surprised to hear Felix’s true feelings. “Felix, you aren’t in anybody’s way. You know I don’t really care that you’re staying with us, especially after you just graduated. I just wish you’d be a little bit more respectful.”

“Because I’ve always been jealous of you, Y/N,” Felix said. “Especially since Chan likes you more than me.”

“Felix, you know that Chan loves you. He would do anything in the world to make you happy.”

“He’s always chosen you over me,” Felix said. “He stopped hanging out with me on weekends in high school, and he even went to the same college as you even though he was accepted into Harvard and Yale.”

I was shocked by Felix’s true feelings, a rare moment of vulnerability that he was choosing to share with me. “Lixie,” I said. “Why have you never said anything before?”

Felix shivered at my use of his nickname. “I didn’t want to. You guys are so happy together and I didn’t want to hurt Chan.”

“Ya! Felix,” I frowned, “your feelings matter too. And if you really feel that way, then we need to talk about it together.”

“I’m just a burden,” Felix gruffed.

“No, you aren’t,” I insisted. “You’re part of our family, and if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable, then you deserve to be heard.”

“You don’t really mean that do you, Y/N?” Felix asked with glistening eyes. “I don’t want you to say these things just to make me feel better.”

“Felix, when have you ever seen me lying to someone just to protect their feelings?” I asked. “I always speak my mind, and this time I’m putting my foot down. When we get home, we’re having a movie marathon, just the three of us. And this weekend, you and Chan can go somewhere together out of town. I’ll have Minho stay with me instead.”

“Really?” Felix asked, swiping a sleeve under his bright red nose.

“We’re in-laws you know,” I said. “That means we look out for one another.”

“Y/N,” Felix giggled and, for once, I didn’t feel the slightest bit annoyed.

“Lee Felix, don’t you ever let me catch you crying like this again, understand?”

Felix nodded, smiling so brilliantly that I was reminded of when we were much younger and he was just an innocent little boy who idolized his older brother.

“Careful,” Chan said, holding the door wide with one hand while keeping a firm grip around my waist.

“I’m not gonna break,” I grumbled, pausing in the doorway as I let out a grateful sigh. It was a huge relief to be back at home and not stuck in that hospital room surrounded by questionable smells.

Chan carefully led me into the living room and I gave him my crutches before collapsing on the futon, ignoring the rigid fabric because I had never been happier to hug one of the matching throw pillows. “Comfortable?” Chan asked, helping me prop my leg up on the coffee table. Meanwhile, Felix lingered in the doorway, grasping my bag tightly between his hands.

“Come join us, Felix,” I said. “You’ll let out all the heat.”

Felix nodded, eyes wide as he locked the door behind him. Chan sent me a curious look as if he wasn’t sure what I was hoping to accomplish by inviting his younger brother into the same room. “I have something for you.”

I clapped my hands together eagerly. “Is it something loaded with carbohydrates and fat?”

“Not quite,” he said, handing me my cell phone. “Seo Enterprises called earlier today. I already contacted them about the accident, but I guess they need to hear from you.”

“Great,” I grimaced, dialing the number from memory. It rang for a few moments, and Chan and Felix were both messing around with the TV, probably trying to figure out what to watch. Because the only thing the two brothers argued about was whether action movies were better than romance.

“Seo Enterprises, this is Eliza speaking how can I help you today?”

“Hi,” I immediately cringed, wondering how many cool points I could possibly lose in one day. “This is Y/N, can I speak to Mr. Seo please?”

“I can transfer you right away,” Eliza spoke promptly as if she had already been prepared to receive my call.

“Y/N!” Changbin’s voice now answered. “I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been having a lot of bad luck recently,” I said. “I guess you know about the accident.”

“I heard,” Changbin said. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” I said. “But I might need some time away from the company. Apparently, a broken leg is a pretty big deal.”

“Take as much time as you need, Y/N,” Changbin said. “I’ve hired a temporary secretary until you’re ready to come back.”

“I don’t know, Changbin,” I said. “It might take several weeks. Maybe you should just hire a replacement.”

“There’s no need for that, Y/N,” Changbin countered. “I still believe you’re the best person for the job.”

“Well, if you’re sure...” I trailed off, shaking my head furiously at Chan when he held up our used copy of The Notebook.

“I’m definitely sure,” Changbin said. “Call me when you want to come back. We still have a lot of things I want to do together in the future.”

“You’re too indecisive,” Chan said, finally taking a well-deserved seat next to me on the futon.

“And you have terrible taste in cinema,” Felix retorted.

“Yeah? Well maybe we should just let Y/N pick,” Chan suggested, mouthing a sweet kiss against my temple.

“I think Felix should decide,” I said, cuddling up closer to Chan’s side.

“Really?” Felix asked, appearing entirely surprised that I would allow him such freedom.

“Why not?” I sighed happily. “I’ll even watch that weird anime movie if you want.”

Felix scoffed but a faint smile remained as he grabbed the remote. Chan chuckled and leaned down to press another kiss to the top of my forehead. “I’m proud of you, sweetie,” he whispered.

“It’s only because I love you so much,” I said while shrugging indifferently, but Chan could always read through me.

“Hmm, well I love you more,” he said, brushing his fingers through my hair as the opening credits rolled across the screen.

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