#i managed to solve that problem a few years ago but now i’m dealing with red face

[in-this-light-on-this-evening]

God fucking hates me and decided to give me type 1 rosacea at the sweet age of 32 and a half. HATEFUL and UNACCEPTABLE.

[plasticflwrs]

⠀⠀   ⠀┈─ NOTHING NEW ⠀⠀／ ⠀⠀ an oliver song story ( 2022 ).

RACH. I wrote it when I was 19, and I've written a lot of other things since, and it's just... what if... what if that was the one... what if that was the one, best thing I'll ever do and I spend the rest of my life just getting worse and worse and drying up, uninspired, and I never become great. — The Prelude by Dave Malloy.

WORD COUNT. 3.2k words. WARNINGS / NOTES. Discussions of mental health symptoms related to general anxiety and major depressive episodes. (Passive) suicidal ideation. Alcohol mention. Originally published in 2023, but now featuring small changes of names and timeline ( rip minghui 😔 ).

“GOOD TO SEE YOU, OLIVER,” Yeonghui smiles as she lets Oliver into her office. “You never answered my text messages. I was worried about you.”

Oliver knows what Yeonghui is doing. 

She’s been worried about Oliver more recently as the bags under his eyes become more prominent and the schedule is more focused on going out with friends than actually writing their next album. This impromptu therapy session was not going to solve any of their current problems and he had other events to attend. Drinks with Rowan, Jiyeon, and old friends. A phone call with his mother. A real therapy appointment. 

Oliver is a busy person and finding a break in their hectic schedule was almost impossible. If the opportunity presented itself, he was going to take it. In reality, he never fully disconnected from his idol life. Always created new voice memos for new music, hid behind a mask so he wasn’t recognized, and appeared on the social media of his closest friends to get the band’s name out there. He liked to create a separation between his personal and professional life but the lines had blurred at the end of 2020.

He doesn’t understand why this is such a big deal.

He had written some of their discography before this album and the rest had been solely written by Salem before that. Yes, they had been missing for sixteen months, but, he was not the only member able to write music. Since he had returned from the states a few months ago, these meetings to discuss "music" (read: his personal life) had become more often. She was more open about her demands for a new album and Oliver was growing tired of it. He knew Salem had enough drafts to cover them for a few years at minimum, Jiyeon had showed him a few things, and even Junyeong of all people brought up a new drum line during their last practice.

Why was Yeonghui not calling them every day? He never understood her actions.

Oliver gives her a smile, the same that fans gushed about on Twitter and he had perfected over the years before speaking, “I’m fine. You know I’m allergic to my cellphone. I never answer anyone.”

“I’ve known you for almost seven years so I’m allowed to worry,” Yeonghui replies, keeping her voice even and her smile is tight-lipped, a sign of annoyance. She’s known amongst the artists for her quick temper. “Everybody is worried about you.”

“Everybody?” he questions. Oliver knows for certain that some people could care less about his health right now.

“Yes, everybody that’s important, which is your managers and myself. You know we have a comeback scheduled for the end of his quarter and I needed to know how that was going. There’s a lot riding on this, as you know.” 

Oliver leans back in the armchair and crosses his arms, defensively. “Have you asked Salem or JIyeon yet? They seemed… excited to run a project.”

She shakes her head and says, “we don’t want that. Plastic Flowers has been out of the public eye for ten months, so we need to retain any relevance from Teeth last year and that will only come from you."

“What if I don’t want to?” Oliver challenges and both of them are surprised by his attempts at talking back. 

“We can’t force you, of course,” Yeonghui says, leaning closer to Oliver. “But, I can cancel this album and make sure it looks like your fault. Junyeong and Salem are already upset, Jiyeon just sent us a lovely demo to compliment what you’ve already written, and Deurim's growing restless without any work. It would be very easy to recreate that outrage. Your choice, Oliver.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, remaining in that defensive position as she meets his stare directly. Oliver has always had an interesting relationship with his CEO and has never gone directly against her in their seven years of working together. He is a people pleaser at heart and at this moment, he wants to continue the fight against her but also knows that Yeonghui isn’t one to bluff. Sure, she’s prone to exaggerations to get her way nonetheless, she would find a way to twist these events in her favor and they both know that.

“Fine. I’ll send you some files later tonight.”

“Great. Why don’t we find some inspiration right now though? We have big plans for the promotion of this album,” she smiles, satisfied with winning the conversation, and opens her notebook to keep track. “So, how have your days been?”

First, he wakes up at eleven-forty-five. 

He pulls himself out of his bed and reluctantly puts on a new pair of clothes, brushing his hair of any knots before entering the living room. Salem gives him an annoyed look as she clears off the table from that morning’s breakfast. Junyeong is in the shower after his daily workout. Deurim doesn’t pay him any attention, she’s too focused on trying to learn all their old music from Minghui's poorly taken notes. Jiyeon is drinking her coffee and reading some book, pretending she doesn’t see him, but Oliver can see her eyes flicker around the room. She looks from the corner of her eyes to watch his every move like he was going to do something stupid if she didn’t.  

Oliver can’t find it in himself to care.

He wishes Jiyeon a good morning, the smile and light excitement in his voice not reaching any other part of his face. He’s never been that good of an actor. Jiyeon smiles back, small, and thanks him before returning to her book, leaving them in silence as the microwave hums. He wishes he could be better for her and provide their relationship with something indispensable. Instead, their days were spent inside his shared bedroom with Minghui and recounting the one-sided disagreements between the oldest members and Oliver in their debriefs. It was all they discussed recently and he wanted to bury those feelings of resentment. There was nothing Oliver could do to change their minds and he was not going to make the first move to repair their relationship. Salem had said enough during their last practice session. 

( She had gone on and on and on about how boring his latest composition was. It played too much into the tropes of the last two albums and whatever he released on Soundcloud. The fans were going to get bored and he could not handle their criticism as she could. The last single she had written performed at the same level as they did in 2019, right after his Superband appearance. It was Oliver that had given them popularity in the first place and she hated that. 

“Have you written anything yet?” he asks, not hiding his annoyance. That shuts her up and they return to working in silence, the only sounds coming from his pen scratching against paper and her acoustic guitar. He sighs and almost apologizes. Almost. )

Jiyeon is good friends to have, despite the lulls in their conversations these days. He knows it's his fault for that too. She provided feedback on his latest demos, offered to plan a celebration for his return to South Korea, and gave him enough time to melt into his bed after long meetings. She never rushed Oliver into hanging out and understood that he needed some time to himself. He needs to step up and be there for her. Invite her out or something, stop locking himself in his room. She deserved better friends than Oliver.

“Are you nervous about tonight?” Jiyeon asks, testing the waters of that day.

“Not really, um—” Oliver begins to answer as his phone rings in his pocket. Another missed call from his mother. The third of that day. He gives Jiyeon an apologetic look before slipping back into his bedroom to answer. “I’ll be right back.” She just nods and goes back to her book. 

“Hi mom,” he tries to sound happier and it almost works.  “How are you? Isn’t it like close to midnight back home?” 

His mother, despite the time difference, is ecstatic to hear from him. “Oh, Oliver,” she gushes. “I’ve missed you so much. I couldn’t sleep and wanted to see if you would pick up.”

Kathleen Suh is a wonderful mother and person, easily one of Oliver’s favorites. Until his step-father taught Oliver how to play the piano, he wanted to emulate her. He wanted to attend Harvard University, he wanted to study history, he wanted to have a family of his own, and he wanted to be happy. His mother accepted the idea of his debut easily, wishing him nothing but the best for those years of training. She would send him money for food, new sneakers, and anything that the company needed. Oliver was forced to just take it since she would not take no for an answer. Now, he does the same and plus some extra gifts for his family. Two weeks ago, his checking account showed a small dip as he provided Harry, his younger brother, with a new Macbook for his final years of high school.

She’s happy to hear from Oliver, unsurprisingly. It's been two full months since they’ve last spoken and Oliver covers it with an excuse about being busy with writing for their new album. She accepts it and they move on to a conversation about his siblings with Ivy’s recent engagement still being the talk of the town and Harry’s already joined the poetry club, making friends already. He’s glad to hear that they are happy and healthy. Maybe he should call them this weekend… Did they even want to hear from him, though? Oliver wasn’t sure. It had been months since he initiated contact and would not blame his siblings for ignoring his future attempts to reach out.

The call continues like this for almost an hour. They go through the important details that Oliver would have missed from the stateside and Oliver give her any information about Plastic Flowers. Its a nice change of pace compared to the rest of the week, which was spent dreadfully alone. Oliver is an introvert at heart, but having these catch up calls with his mother wasn’t the same as meeting friends. They could never drain him.

However, the tone changes for the worst.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” she asks and any good feeling leaves his body at that moment.

 Oliver hates when she does this to him and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. He gets it, really. Not hearing from their children would get anyone in a sentimental mood but Oliver hated discussing his current feelings with anyone and did not want to worry his mother. After a few moments, he answers, “I’m fine, mom. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve just been busy preparing for this album,” A pause in the conversation. Neither of them speaks so Oliver ends the conversation there. “It’s late in Boston so I’m going to hang up now. I love you.” 

Before he ends their call, his mother bids him goodbye and tells him that she loves him too. A hand goes through his dark brown hair, recently fixed from the bleaching sessions of the year prior, and he sighs loudly, flopping onto his mattress. Oliver, for the thousandth time within two hours of being awake, wishes that he was a better person and most importantly, a better son. If he didn’t feel like this, his mother would not have to worry about him and life would be easier for everyone. 

Without him…

 Nevermind. 

Jiyeon don’t want him thinking like that anymore. ‘It’s not good for the band,’ Jiyeon had said a few months ago, sitting on the balcony with three bottles of white wine between them. They always ended up back there, like in the old days, where they felt on top of the world and like nothing could truly hurt them. The days before he realized the band’s relationship breaking down in front of him and along with the divide between his personal and public life. It has always been the three of them against the world with Salem and Junyeong drifting in and out, depending on their feelings toward the youngest members at the time.

He still remembers the celebrations that came with their first single to enter the top ten in the music charts. At the moment, it felt like things were changing for the better. Less glaring and more attempts at working together, the creation of 403 a few months later, and securing their first win.

It was going well… until it wasn’t.

And the world would turn without Oliver Song for a comeback. He was sure of it. It might not reach the same success as Salem indulged in a more niche audience and the general public was not her biggest fan these days, but that was okay with him. It was the company's problem and they would have to work hard to rectify that. If Yeonghui could turn the world against him, she could definitely change the public opinion of Salem in a matter of a few weeks. At the same time, the band might not survive without the input of Oliver as the public’s favorite member and the lead vocalist of Plastic Flowers. While Oliver could take himself from the equation, with the fanbase also divided between favorite members, showing a weakened lineup could spell disaster. Rumors would circulate and the world would stop turning and Oliver would be lost forever, with—

“Oliver? Are you okay? You’ve been in here for, like, three hours,” Deurim's voice interrupts his spiraling and she’s standing just outside of the doorframe with an odd look on her face. 

Glancing down at his phone, Oliver could have sworn it was only two in the afternoon last time he had checked and now it was nearing four, closer to the end of the day than the beginning and yet another day lost to his downward spiral. This had been happening a lot more lately, with days blending into nights and the inability to be in the moment. He was always stuck between the past and the future, there was no time to worry about the present and he could not stop moving even for a moment. There was always something to do, even if that was nothing in reality.

“God fucking—” Oliver swears as he sits up, all the blood rushing to his head, and goes to his closet. “I should have set an alarm. I’m going to be so late.”

Deurim watches as he stumbles around the room, pulling a sweater and a new pair of socks from his bedside table. “Late for what?” she asks.

“I have a meeting with Yeonghui in a few minutes. She’s having one of her moments about a new record, I just need to appease her for now. I’ll still make dinner later.”

“Are you sure you’re well enough to go? You look like shit, Oliver,” Deurim remarks. 

“What are you talking about?” It's at that exact moment that Oliver gets a closer look at himself in the mirror and pauses for a moment. “Oh. Well, that’s nothing a bit of makeup can’t fix. I’ll just put it on in the car, no big deal,” Oliver’s voice is quicker than normal as the nerves start to get too much and he offers his roommate what should be a smile. Things are suddenly moving miles per minute. “Reservation is for seven, right? I can meet you guys at the restaurant if she runs over time, I’ll keep you and Jiyeon updated, yeah?”

Oliver is not doing well and someone else had noticed. So much for not making anyone worry anymore.

Anyone could see that from miles away. He hasn’t only lost weight over the last few months, but the dark circles have grown, and much more affect his naturally bright appearance. Before this moment, he never had the chance to truly look at himself in the mirror but it seems that the reaction of not only Deurim but the small gasps from the makeup artists was warranted. Oliver isn’t sure when it all got this bad, but, he can fix it, no problem. Starting that night he would change his life for the better. More meals, a peaceful rest, and spending time with Jiyeon was first on the list. That would help him feel better. (Hopefully). 

Deurim nods, still looking uncomfortable. They both know stopping Oliver from going to this meeting would be near impossible, he hated missing tasks. “Sounds like a plan. Good luck with the meeting.”

In a few minutes, he is not only ready for the meeting but his plans for after. Their manager knocks on the door and Oliver and escorted to the Superbloom Media headquarters, just ten minutes down the road. The ride is quiet save for the soft lull of whatever song was currently going viral in South Korea and his manager taps the steering wheel to the beat to save them from complete silence. Oliver is thankful that he doesn’t ask many questions and just goes along with whatever the members were feeling to keep his job. At some points, Oliver thinks that the manager is looking at him before remembering that checking your mirrors is always an important safety measure, especially as he turns street corners.

They park in the artists-only lot, the third floor of the private parking garage and he is left to his own devices. The manager has to pick up something else for the members, something that Salem requested from the shop down the street and he wishes Oliver good luck. They both know that he would need it. 

That was Oliver’s day.

That had been Oliver’s day for the last three months and it seems like nothing will change. 

The only changes come from whatever plans are happening at the same time, guided through the motions by either his bandmates or manager. Nothing ever seemed to change and after a while, it all blended together. Yeonghui isn’t satisfied with his answer and she stopped writing a few minutes into his attempts at recounting his day.

“And, how long have you been like this?”

“Three months.”

She is silent for a moment. “That’s a long time.”

“I know.”

“What happened three months ago?” she asks, trying to get more information out of him. 

Oliver shrugs. “I’m not sure.”

[artidoesthings]

What have I been up to..?

Good question, uh. Working! On an original project/world/whatever! A story, that’s what I’m telling… well, multiple stories. There’s a few ‘main’ stories and I’m gonna go over the characters involved there!

welcome to the world of Anthos, this is only one of many posts (I hope)

First up: the adventurer’s guild gang!

Fern, Sora and Kyne are childhood friends who drifted apart, now brought together as a team of adventurers in the Adventurer’s Guild, going by Team Wander! Together, they explore the world, and try to solve the mystery of their parents’ disappearance, 11 years ago.

Fern Valerian is a cheerful and peppy fighter, who tackles most problems with brute force and a smile! Her weapon of choice is a hammer. Alongside adventuring, she has a love for fashion, food, and the occasional prank.

Sora Valerian is Fern’s twin brother, and the calmer of the two. Although he enjoys fighting, he sees fighting as a second option- at least, when dealing with people. He’s much more interested in the ‘exploring’ part of adventuring. He’s the crafty type- being skilled in woodcarving and sewing.

Kyne Mestri is the team’s voice of reason… most of the time anyway, the one mage on the team who utilizes a variety of combat magic. She’s primarily a researcher- previously handling her branch of the Guild’s records and histories. She always thinks ahead and has a plan. She enjoys reading, as well as various looking into mysteries. She also enjoys ghost stories… but that’s more of a secret.

Setting out from the town of Helivale, a cozy village nestled deep within a forest, a trio makes their way out into the world, with the goal to simply explore and experience things. Helivale is a unique town- aside from the three organic inhabitants, its citizens are all robots. This will be important.

Violet Historia (Full name and title being Lady Violet Florian Aeris Historia), is the last living member of the Historia family- the noble clan that founded Helivale and built the robots that inhabit it. Violet is a sheltered child- primarily by choice. She doesn’t interact with any of the robots, and only talks to Nikolas. Her friend and mentor/tutor.

Nikolas Morien is a skilled artificer who lives in Helivale by choice. The peace and quiet is perfect for research, and fixing up the robots makes for good practice. He’s the inquisitive type, and managed to meet Violet by accident. Befriending her and forming a bond with her. After some time of this, the robots of Helivale request Nikolas to take Violet away from the town. Nothing changes here- and a young lady such as herself deserves to see and experience the world. Nikolas agrees, and their journey begins.

Bell is Nikolas’s cat, and a troublemaker. She is very important.

Far away from the mainland, lies the island of Elpis. Home to the long-living and serene Lumerians, who’ve ruled over the island for ages, as well as various other humans. Ages ago, the peaceful life on the island was nearly destroyed by a war- one that still may have an affect on the island even today.

Eden is Elpis’s hero and crown heir, having sustained countless wounds fighting in the war ages ago, they were set into a stasis slumber to restore their strength, only awakening recently. Memories slightly scrambled and thrown into an unrecognizable world, they’re unsure of how to proceed.

Valeria is a priestess of the Light Gods, whose sanctuary was where Eden slept. Valeria was the one to discover them awake, and do her best to assist them. She wants to forge a friendship with them, despite everything.

Ahaha so uh. Yep. That’s them! The main characters (the ones that exist anyway)

there’s several other characters too! Team Wander’s rivals, various other characters met by several people, entire other LOCATIONS, I haven’t covered, adventurer’s guild members, and more! As well as various other bits of background lore- what little worldbuilding there is.

feel free to ask me anything about this, I will gladly answer!

if you read this far, thank you for reading! It means a lot.

[kitwilsonsass]

anyway hi lmao

i’ve been extremely stressed and antisocial bc shit keeps going wrong.

was already stressed about tax season bc dad’s shit has been tighter than usual and there’s a bill due i forgot about. not in itself a huge deal. but then i forgot his fucking insurance still had a deductible so his 83 dollar inhaler was a 175 dollar inhaler this month lmao.

the sink is backing up again. not as bad as last time, but doing it nonetheless. this was like 360 bucks to fix last time for a couple months of it working properly. so i did what the plumber suggested i do. and now ever since we’ve had a smell coming up and the problem isn’t solved. we have no access to under the house right now, because a new crawlspace entrance hadn’t been put in yet. so for all i know the plumbing is straight up leaking. it’s not as bad as it was the first night, but still present and concerning. i tried to text one of the idiots to ask if i could pay them to put in a crawlspace, and either they changed their number, or they’re just ignoring me. it’s been a week.

and today i went to go to physical therapy, started the vehicle, the check engine light came on. stopped at the ~zone~ for a diagnostic scan and it’s evap does not seem to be the gas cap. which means it’s probably a leak in the evap which is THE SAME THING THAT WAS FIXED A FEW YEARS AGO. i already need brakes in the next couple months, so this is Just Super. 

plus missing pt two weeks in a row just sucks.

like.... lmao. lmao.

i’m looking into applying for an online rater position thing i’ve been researching that’s apparently like 10hr minimum and minimum wage if you pass the exam. actually really really hopeful i can manage to do it and it’s not a crock of shit because that would actually be so helpful and ideal rn. not have to worry about fucking up vehicle more + my knee issues + bringing home any shred of the rona.

[auspicetaker]

hi tumlr

my queue ran out and i’ve been too busy playing TotK to update it. i’ve been doing some personal writing today that’s probably not interesting to anyone else, but i’m putting it under the cut if you’re interested in reading me complaining about all my life problems and not doing anything to solve them.

5/31/2023

What’s my problem? Well…

… I’ve been bleeding continuously for months, maybe years. I’ve lost track. I’m on hormonal birth control to manage my brutal PMS symptoms (debilitating cramps, migraines so bad I can’t stand up, hellacious mood swings) but now I’m just on a low-grade period forever. Not sure what’s worse - the whiplash of the highs and lows of the natural cycle, or being stuck somewhere in the cycle eternally, not up or down, just blood and tissue leaking out of me day in and day out for months and months on end.

… I’ve been wishing to get on T for some time now. I want the facial and body hair, the husky voice, increased muscle mass, new stinky boy smells, a roughening of my too-delicate facial features. However, getting gender-affirming healthcare, even in a trans-friendly blue state like mine, is no small undertaking. Everywhere I’ve called is either not accepting new patients or has a prohibitively long waitlist. I have an appointment with an endocrinologist in a few months, but since he’s just a straight-world endocrinologist, not someone specialized in these things, I am extremely apprehensive he’ll just shut me down. It’s happened before. The T feels like a new avenue to pursue to deal with my endless, miserable bleeding, some different exogenous hormones instead of the estrogen I’ve been taking. It feels like a small glimmer of hope, so obviously I am already prepared to never get it, to have it be taken away if I do get it, or for it to not work out like I imagined. 

… My job is falling apart at the seams. My colleague who was my greatest support was taken away from me about a month ago, unceremoniously laid off due to financial issues (concerning) and I’ve been floundering ever since. I made so much progress with my self-loathing and avoidance around work stuff, and it feels like I’ve taken eight steps back. No, not even that I took the eight steps myself, it’s like I was picked up by a giant claw and thrown all the way back to a more dysfunctional self. I had something good going, it felt tolerable, and now I am floundering, trapped with my stupid boss on his sinking ship. 

… I need to work on my resumé, apply to other stuff. I have always hated job hunting. It is a particularly odious form of the sort of normal-person lying and deception that is necessary for survival in our society. Creating a version of myself that’s palatable to prospective employers, then scraping, bowing, and doing little dances to try and get their approval or consideration… it makes me sick. Part of what was so great about getting this job was that I don’t even think I ever gave my boss a resumé. He already knew me and I was able to just use that goodwill and prior record to pirouette into this current role. Which in retrospect may have been kind of a red flag.

… My mental health has taken a bit of a nosedive in these past few months. Part of it is that I’m tapering off of the antidepressants that I’d been taking for my entire adult life. I was doing okay, but there’s been a few stumbling blocks in a row and things are tough, now. Things I thought I was doing better with (self harm and suicidal ideation) are back in a big way. I’ve accepted that I’ll struggle for a while, maybe forever, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay for the return of my full range of emotions. Long-term SSRI use leaves you in a state of not-depression but also not-happiness. You don’t experience pleasure so much as you experience the absence of pain. For me, at least, I also experienced a profound dulling of what little creative impulses I had. On that front, tapering down SSRI’s has been revelatory - I feel like I’ve unlocked a long-buried self who desires to write and make art, who has aesthetic visions and preferences. I’m collaging again, making art in my journal, learning to make digital art on a tablet, creating wall collages in my room. It doesn’t feel like something new, it feels like something very old that I lost and am finally returning to. All this to say that I’ll take an uptick in my brain screaming for blood and death (god knows I experienced that already on my full dose of SSRI’s) to get a shred of that old self back, to feel the joy and thrill of creation again. 

… Speaking of aesthetics, I’m so fucking sick and tired of all my clothes. I want something new but I don’t know exactly what. I’m tired of the black-and-green color scheme I’ve been rocking for the past 5 years. I’m tired of the skinny leg silhouettes and the too-small band tees. Again, I don’t know what I’d replace this all with. Shopping takes time and money, and I have little of either. In-person shopping is a sensorily draining and overwhelming experience, and online shopping leaves me either paralyzed with indecision or, worse, pulling the trigger impulsively and then wracked with regret. I have made a few stabs here and there towards a new personal aesthetic, getting colorful, oversized new button-down shirts, for example, but it’s slow going, and in the meantime I’m left with what I already have. And I’m so, so sick of it all.

… My house and my room are in a state of flux. My roommate is moving out, and my girlfriend is moving in. I’m sad to leave my roommate (nine years cohabitating!), apprehensive of change, but mostly excited. It’ll be incredible to have my girlfriend by my side all the time. That’s a dream. There are many, many nasty and frustrating corners of my room I keep saying I’ll deal with, and the clock is running out. My closet is a mess, my storage areas are inefficient and cluttered, and I simply cannot seem to get it together enough to do anything about any of it. Additionally, I decided I’d redo the peeling bathroom paint myself, even though we’re renting and it should be my landlord’s job, and it’s taking forever. I have very limited time and resources to deal with the many stages of scraping, stripping, sanding, spackling, priming, and repainting. The bathroom is currently in the “scraped and stripped” stage, but not yet in the “sanded, spackled, primed, and painted” stage, and it looks absolutely terrible. I feel stupid, panicked, overwhelmed just thinking about it. I’ve painted myself (ha ha)  into a corner and I just have to keep going, despite the fact that I never want to look at the fucking bathroom ever again, at this point. 

… There are other things that are necessary to my survival and health that I’ve been avoiding dealing with, or just haven’t had the resources to deal with. I’ve needed new glasses for months now but can’t seem to make myself do anything about it. It takes a Herculean effort just to go to work, cook food, do the dishes, and do my laundry, so higher-level tasks like “writing a resume” or “shopping for new jeans” or “making a necessary medical appointment” just keep getting pushed off for later. And later never comes. 

[cellgreys]

Mac free rss reader

#MAC FREE RSS READER MAC#

I think the key is looking for websites with high signal and low noise. The trick to using RSS is to be brutal with your subscriptions. If you’re not careful, every time you open your RSS reader, there will be 1,000 unread articles waiting for you, which completely defeats the purpose of using RSS. RSS is so easy to implement that it’s a slippery slope between having RSS feeds for just a few websites and instead of having RSS feeds for hundreds of websites. If you are thinking about using RSS, I have a little advice. Their addition of dark mode for iPhone X is great, but ultimately I don’t know where I’ll land between these two great RSS Apps. For the last week, I’ve been using Reeder again just for giggles. Then a few years ago I switched over to Unread, which I found to be slower but a little more delightful. If a few days go by, I can open RSS and go through my carefully curated list of websites and get caught back up with the world.Ī long time ago, I used Reeder as my primary RSS application. That’s why RSS is such a great solution for me. That only works if you go into Twitter much more frequently than I do. I’ll check in on Twitter, but I won’t be able to get my news from it. When I finish the job, I can then go back to the Internet. I close my mail application, tell my phone service to take my calls, and I definitely don’t open Twitter. If I’m deep into writing a book or a legal client project. Twitter is the social network that I participate in most and yet sometimes days go by where I don’t load the application. The reason I’ve stuck with RSS is the way in which I work. As social networks took off, a lot of my friends that were previously big RSS fans gave up on the technology and instead relied upon sources like Twitter and Facebook to get their news. It is a great way to read blogs and the backbone of podcast distribution. The MacSparky RSS, for example, gives RSS applications a list of all the articles I post here since you last checked int. RSS, or Really Simple Syndication, is a way to queue up and serve content from the internet. Having used Reeder 5 now for a few months, I’ve got a couple of tips:įor several years now, the trend among geeks has been to abandon the RSS format. It is still an attractive app with an opinionated design. Also, while Reeder doesn’t look as nice as Unread, it looks nice enough, and it has lots of features aimed at making the reading process easier. I thought that might be a deal-breaker, but the convenience of having everything in one app wins in my book. Unread has more options for color schemes and designs for the article view. If there is one trade-off, Reeder doesn’t display the articles as nicely as my previous RSS reader, Unread. Instead, the developer releases a new version every few years that you buy over, but it is still far less expensive than what I paid for subscriptions. A nice bonus is that Reeder is a one-time purchase.

#MAC FREE RSS READER MAC#

It does all of this in one application, and in addition to the iPhone and iPad apps, there is also a Mac app. This newest version of Reeder does a good job of managing your feeds, displaying your articles, and giving you the ability to set them aside to read later. With this most recent version, the Reeder developer has included tools to view your RSS feeds (Reeder’s original purpose), manage feeds, and save articles for reading later using your iCloud storage.Īs someone who is normally skeptical of all-in-one applications, I like the idea of this update, but I wasn’t so sure about whether it would solve my problems. When Reeder released version 5, I decided to give it a try again. I used Reeder awhile back but moved to the above concoction of apps for many different reasons that I’ll refer to as “nerd-based app creep”. In addition to being expensive, there is a certain amount of mental overhead that comes with managing data between three services that I would prefer to avoid. I currently use a Feed Wrangler account ($19 per year) to manage my feeds, Unread ($20 per year) to view my threads, and Instapaper ($30 per year) for read-it-later. Looking at my toolset for managing RSS, it’s getting expensive. I remain a believer in the RSS format and use it daily. We gave coverage to both of these topics last year on the Mac Power Users ( MPU 550: The World of RSS) ( MPU 554: Read-it-later Services). RSS and read-it-later services are near and dear to my heart.

[awanderingdeal]

‪Hi Lucy🌼 how are you? I have a request for you! Could you please write Finn and Logan going to a Harvard hockey reunion while already being out and proud and as a couple? maybe they also bring leo? (I just know at least one of their former teammates would be like “YES! I knew you two would end up together”) ‬

Hi! I'm good thanks! I hope you are too.

I've never really considered this sort of scenario so it was super interesting to write! Thanks for the prompt.

Rating: G

CW: Brief food and drinks mention. Small mention of past injury.

Logan, Finn, Leo, Percy, Will and the general Sweater Weather universe belongs to @lumosinlove. The other team members were made up by me for this fic.

Finn swore he'd never heard this group of men quite so quiet as they were right now. The entire table had turned to look at them and just...frozen. He felt Logan tense next to him, his body already half turned to bolt.

"Harzy! Tremz!" Of course it was Marshy who broke the silence. "There you are. C'mon, sit down. What are you drinking?"

"Hey." Finn let out a long breath, touching his fingers briefly to the small of Logan's back, receiving a tight smile in return.

"I knew it, I fucking knew it." Mateo Sánchez slammed his palm against the table as Finn took a seat. He steeled himself for whatever bullshit was about to come out of his old teammates mouth, placing a placating hand on Logan's thigh. "How many times did I say these two were going at it? I'd like to collect on my winnings now."

"You can't collect on winnings from five years ago, dumbass." James Huntington, more fondly known as Hunter, drawled.

Logan lifted his hat, running a hand through his hair before placing it back on his head.

"Same tells as ever, Tremblay," Will laughed lightly from the head of the table. "Relax, I already read the riot act. There'll be no trouble here."

"Once a captain, always a captain, ey?" Finn said. The reassurance worked though, Logan's expression softening. They managed to flag down a server and with a drink in hand, it almost felt like they were back in college again.

"Ash was just showing us some of his photography," Jake tipped his bottle in the direction of the man in question. Jacob 'Truce' Truman was one of the few on the team Finn had kept in touch with, outside of those who had also gone pro. He'd been one Finn's first friends at Harvard and he constantly proved to be in Finn's corner. "He's in Switzerland now, lives in the mountains."

"Couldn't hack it out on the ice, so he found himself some real snow." It took Finn a moment to remember the name of the speaker. Wesley Larsson. He was older than Finn, and he hadn't seen much game time for most of the year they'd been on the team together, but from what Finn could recall he was an ass.

"Bitter's not a good look for you," Ash brushed the jibe off, starting to show his work again. Finn was just glad the pressure was off them for a bit. It didn't last long though.

"Where's your third then?" Sanchez called down the table once the conversation lulled. "Leo Knut, wasn't it?

"I heard he cooks," Hunter laughed. "And Lord knows these two need somebody that can cook.'

"Ouias, because we really couldn't have solved that problem with two NHL salaries," Logan shrugged. "Knutty's at the hotel. I don't see any other significant others."

Percy clapped his hands together, "Now you mention it, tomorrow evening, same place, bring your wives, girlfriends -" He fixed his stare on Finn and then Logan. "-boyfriends. Christ, bring your pet chihuahua if you must. I need to meet the people that fell in love with you idiots."

"If I say we'll bring him tomorrow, will you leave us alone for the rest of the night?" Finn sat back in his chair.

"Yes!" Finn turned his head, surprised to find the answer had been delivered by Rual Lee. He'd always been shy off the ice. One hell of a player though, even if a professional career had been railroaded by a reoccurring hip injury. "Only if I can get an autograph though. My little girl is obsessed."

"Yeah, I don't blame her," Finn laughed. "Deal."

[nerdzzone]

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Part Two

____

Part Three

I did my best to take Scott's words to heart. It was eye-opening and, while it didn't change my concerns about how Grayson would be affected, it helped me soften my guard a little bit when it came to Chris.

We were both in over our heads, stuck with feelings that we didn't know what to do with and insecurities that left us unable to fight for what we wanted. I had doubts and I had questions, but if what Scott had divulged was true then I did have some sympathy for Chris because I knew exactly how he'd been feeling for the last few years.

So, I decided to talk to him. To hash it out, lay it all on the table and see what he had to say. I wasn't entirely sure I would change my mind about the situation, but I wanted to give him a chance to explain his thoughts and feelings unlike how I'd shut the conversation down after Christmas.

But I didn't count on how chaotic it was to be trapped in a house, all day every day, with a child who was almost three. Even with three adults, there were days when it felt like we were the ones who were outnumbered as we took turns trying to keep him constantly entertained and stimulated. To our credit, it was working and we were managing to keep Grayson from being bored, anxious to go out to a park or noticing that things were all that different, but it meant that I had no time or energy to deal with heavy conversations. Things were fine between Chris and I, we were getting along well enough with no more noteworthy disagreements, but there hadn't been a good time for any kind of heart-to-heart.

Things only got more complicated about a week and a half into our lockdown when Chris had to start doing interviews. He had a new show, Defending Jacob, coming out in a few weeks and he had to start the promo for it.

Most people who were working from home these days with small children running around had way more difficult situations to balance than we did, but we knew it would be tricky to keep Grayson from getting curious and barging into an interview. He'd proven to be quite sneaky when he wanted to be and Chris was anxious about the whole thing. He wasn't a big fan of interviews at the best of times so doing it over Zoom made him even more nervous. He spent the whole morning fretting about it being awkward, concerned that he wouldn't be able to relax and act natural, and it seemed like he was channelling his anxiety into his worries about Grayson. He very much liked to be in control of what the world saw of Gray and having him crash an interview wasn't what he wanted. I completely agreed and assured him several times that I wouldn't let that happen, but I could tell he was still stressed about it as he dragged himself off to get ready.

For the first hour or so that Chris was working, things went well. We read a story and played with some Lego, activities that wouldn't get Grayson too excited and noisy, but when Scott suggested that he curl up on the couch and watch Finding Nemo with him, we ran into a problem.

"Okay!" Grayson cheered, jumping up from where we'd been playing on the floor. "Be right back!"

He took off down the hall and I leapt into action, calling his name and stopping him just as he got to the bottom of the stairs.

"Where are you going, buddy?"

"To get my bear!"

Grayson's room was upstairs, next to Chris' office. He knew where Chris was so I knew there was a good chance he would stop by to say hello on his way past the door.

"Why don't you go get settled on the couch with Uncle Scott and I'll get your bear so you don't miss any of the movie?" I suggested. "Is he in your room?"

"No," he shook his head. "He's in Daddy's office."

I held back a groan, knowing that Gray would not be happy if I explained that he couldn't have his bear for the movie because we weren't allowed in Daddy's office right now. But I also knew that now he'd decided that he wanted to watch a movie, it wasn't likely that he would settle doing anything else either.

"Well, Daddy's very busy in his office right now," I explained. "But I'll go upstairs and see if I can sneak in and get him, okay?"

Grayson agreed to that suggestion and ran off back towards the living room as I glanced at the clock on the wall quickly and hoped that Chris was between interviews. I knew he wouldn't be done for the day just yet, but he had a few lined up so there was a chance that he wasn't currently on a call.

As soon as I pressed my ear to the door of Chris' office, my hopes were dashed. I could hear the sound of laughter echoing through from his laptop so I knew he was in the middle of something, but just as I was about to walk away I heard something that caught my attention.

"You have a son of your own, don't you?" The interviewer asked and I cringed, knowing that it wasn't something Chris liked to discuss. His character in the show was a father though so I wasn't surprised it had come up, it gave them a segue that they hadn't really had before. "How is that going with this lockdown?"

Ever the professional, Chris didn't even hesitate before he answered even though I knew he would be annoyed by the line of questioning.

"Oh, it's great! He's staying with me until all this is over so it's great that we get to spend so much time together," he told the interviewer. "I'm lucky enough to be in a situation where I can just take a few months off until things cool down without too much worry so we've just been relaxing, building blanket forts, watching movies and getting in some bonding time that I miss out on when I'm busy. It's had some challenges, but it's been really nice."

I knew I shouldn't be listening, it was rude to eavesdrop even if the conversation would shortly be broadcast to the whole world, but again, the interviewer's next question had me too intrigued to walk away. Despite all the talking points that he could have chosen from Chris' answer, he zeroed in on one thing.

"He's staying with you for the entire lockdown? Is there a rekindled romance we don't know about?" He asked. "Or is his mother no longer in the picture?"

My jaw dropped. I didn't know who Chris was talking with today, but it wasn't like his team to set him up for any interviews where he would be asked questions like that and most interviewers were too polite to fish for the kind of gossip you'd find in a trashy magazine.

"Oh, I'm not gonna get into all that." Chris' tone was much more clipped than it had been moments before - he was clearly not impressed by the question either. "It's not anyone's business really, is it? But I will say that she is definitely in the picture and one of the best moms that I know. She's staying here with us too."

My heart melted a bit at his compliment even though I knew the words he added at the end meant that we were in for a whole new gossip storm.

It suddenly felt like I really was overstepping by standing at the door listening to this conversation without his knowledge so I headed back downstairs. As I got back into the living room, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent a message to Chris:

It would appear that you have a stowaway. I know you're busy, but please return Mr. Bear at your earliest convenience.

I put my phone away as I explained the situation to Grayson, but luckily, he was too interested in the movie to pay much attention to what I'd said. By the time Chris came down with the bear, it was like he'd forgotten that he ever cared about it in the first place.

Most of my attention was on Chris at that point though. The way he scurried into the room, avoiding looking in my direction at all. He looked ashamed and withdrawn and I couldn't hold back a sigh when he left the room quickly as I knew that he was beating himself up over the conversation that he didn't even know I'd heard.

-

Chris was sullen for the rest of the day. He perked up around Grayson, but whenever Gray was distracted there was a scowl or a frown firmly planted on his face. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know how without confessing that I'd overheard his interview. Given his mood and the ease with which we fell into disagreements these days, that seemed like it would cause more issues than it would help.

The news broke at about eleven that night and I knew because I was suddenly inundated with texts from friends and with follower requests on my private social media accounts. I pulled up the video and watched the interview, feeling another wave of empathy when I saw the annoyance written all over Chris' face as he answered the questions. He'd found a subtle way to shut the interview down almost immediately after the incident and I was proud of him for handling it so diplomatically.

I added it to the list of things that I needed to talk to Chris about whenever I got the chance as I pulled myself away from my laptop and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed. However, when I got into the hallway, I noticed a light coming up from downstairs. As far as I knew, everyone had gone to bed almost an hour ago, but I had a good idea whose thoughts would be keeping them awake so I headed down to investigate.

My suspicions were confirmed as I walked into the living room and saw Chris on the couch, his phone in his hand and his brow furrowed.

"Uh oh," I started, making his eyes snap up towards me. "Are you doomscrolling?"

The angry look on his face softened slightly as he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Doomscrolling?"

"Yeah," I shrugged with a smile. "That's what the kids call it these days when you spend too long scrolling through the news or Twitter, just soaking in all the bad shit in the world."

Chris chuckled as I moved into the room and sat on the opposite end of the couch that he was on, tucking my feet underneath me.

"I didn't know you were so down with the kids these days."

"I'm getting old, Chris. I'm almost thirty-two, I have to stay cool somehow." I shot him a wink. "But anyway, what are you reading that's making you look so grumpy?"

Chris sighed and locked his phone, putting it on the end table next to the couch.

"I said something in an interview today," he admitted. "Something that I shouldn't have said."

I watched him for a moment, waiting for him to look at me and elaborate, but when he didn't, I spoke up.

"I hope you're not about to tell me that you regret saying what a good mom I am or I'll be really disappointed..."

That comment brought Chris' gaze back to me, his shock evident on his face until it faded into a grimace.

"You heard what I said?"

"I watched the video," I admitted. "I had a flurry of Instagram activity that tipped me off."

"You didn't read the comments, did you?"

There was worry written all over Chris' face when I shrugged.

"Of course I did. Can't have my self-esteem getting too high, can we?" I was teasing, but his look of gloom only deepened. "Chris, it doesn't matter. I'm no supermodel, they're not saying anything I don't already know."

"See, this is what bothers me," Chris snapped. "My so-called 'fans' are out there spewing all this crap about you and you're acting like it's all true, so who cares? Well, I care because it's bullshit and you don't deserve it!"

"I didn't mean it like that," I assured him, keeping my voice quiet in an attempt to cool the situation.

We'd been here many times over the years and I knew how enraged the comments made Chris. He saw right through me, he knew that I took some of the things that had been said to heart, but who wouldn't? It's hard not to take it personally when someone points out your biggest insecurities, the things that you hope no one else notices, the things that you tell yourself can't possibly be true or as bad as you think in your head. It's impossible not to let it get to you a little bit, but I was well practiced at dealing with it and had grown a thicker skin.

At least, when it came to the comments about my appearance. The comments about how I'm not good enough and how Chris could do better always struck a cord, but it was nothing I couldn't handle.

"No?" Chris huffed. "What did you mean then?"

"That I know I'm an easy target because I'm not stick thin with a boob job," I answered, wanting to diffuse the situation before Chris got too upset. "They're cruel and mean, but they're just jealous because they think their dream boyfriend is taken now."

"Well, anyone who claims to be a real fan of mine wouldn't talk like that about someone I care about," he grumbled. "I shouldn't have answered, I should have just ignored the question."

"Actually, I'm glad you didn't. I'm glad you set the record straight rather than have everyone think I've abandoned my child. I would probably get even more hate for that."

"He shouldn't have even asked about it," Chris continued. "It was so out of line. Why can't people just mind their own business?"

"Because everyone adores you and has a burning desire to know everything about you," I teased, stretching my feet out to nudge his leg gently. His lips twitched briefly into a smile, but it faded as fast as it appeared. "Even my friends were all messaging me, asking if it was true like gossiping teenage girls. Everyone wants the Chris Evans scoop."

That comment earned me a chuckle and I relaxed slightly, hoping that he was starting to calm down.

"I'm sure your friends were more interested in the gossip about your life, not because of me."

"I dunno," I shrugged. "They always liked you."

Chris smiled, but a sigh slipped from his lips as he draped his arm over my feet where they rested on the couch next to him. We sat quietly for a moment as I continued watching him, wishing there was something I could say to ease the worry in his mind, but his next words left me a little bit speechless.

"I do get it, you know?" He said, his eyes still fixed firmly on the ground in front of him. "I get why you wouldn't want to be with me. I get that it's a lot to deal with."

My heart sank at his admission and I scrambled to figure out what to say.

It wasn't ideal - discussing our relationship, while he was already feeling quite murderous - but he'd brought it up and it was hard to say when we'd get another chance. Once again, I found myself fighting the urge to bolt for the door, but I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, hoping that this would be a civil conversation.

"Chris, it's not that," I insisted, my voice soft in what I hoped would be a soothing tone. "Maybe they didn't do anything to ease my concerns, but the bullies on the internet aren't what scared me away."

"No?" His eyes flicked up to meet mine. "Then what did?"

He sounded so defeated and I bit my lip to keep my emotions from bubbling up. The truth was that I didn't know where to start. There was too much floating around my head, too many questions and too many explanations that made less sense now that I knew what I knew after speaking with Scott. I was scared, but it was a very justified fear that could only be made sense of by answering his question with another question.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were in love with me?"

Chris raised an eyebrow, but shrugged off the question.

"You didn't seem like you wanted to hear it, Whitney. I told you that I was all in after Christmas and you shut me down pretty fast," he pointed out. "I didn't think blurting out a confession of love would do much to change that."

Had that been what I was referring to, it would have been a fair argument. However, I was referring to long before our latest incident so I shook my head.

"I talked to Scott," I confessed as a slight look of betrayal slid onto Chris’ face. "Don't be mad, he'd had a few drinks and was feeling sentimental. He told me that you were in love with me long before Grayson was even in the picture, but you never told me."

"I slept with you, didn't I?" He questioned, a defensiveness creeping into his tone. "Doesn't that make someone's feelings pretty fuckin' clear?"

"Hardly," I scoffed. "People sleep with people they're not in love with all the time and it becomes even less clear when they meet up afterwards to have a discussion about their relationship and that someone makes no mention of being in love."

"Was it really a discussion? Or did I show up at your apartment just to hear you lay out the ground rules?"

I faltered slightly as I thought back, but after a moment of reflection, I nodded.

"It was a discussion."

"I believe the first words out of your mouth were 'I think we both know that we're better off as friends'," he informed me. "Doesn't leave much room for debate."

"I was scared." That confession came out less confidently, but I found my voice again quickly. "And I assumed that's what you wanted too because you never pushed back."

He cocked his head to the side, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"You weren't the only one who was scared."

"I was the only one who was pregnant," I retorted, my tone growing harsher as my frustrations started to rise. "I was the only one who was trying to make a massive life decision while hormonal and growing another human being inside of them."

"That's fair," Chris nodded, his voice much calmer than I expected after my burst of annoyance. "But I wasn't about to pour my heart out and tell you how I felt when you kept talking about what a mistake we'd made as if you'd never regretted anything more in your life."

"Getting pregnant was a mistake," I clarified. "I love Grayson and I wouldn't change it for anything, but we can't say it wasn't a mistake at the time given our situation."

"A situation that you didn't want to change."

"Only because you never told me how you felt," I shot back. "I didn't want you to commit to something out of a sense of obligation. I didn't want you to put up with me for a few years until you dumped me for someone more in your league who you actually cared about."

There was a look of surprise on Chris' face at that revelation as it became more and more obvious to both of us that we hadn't been as good at communicating as we may have thought. It seemed we'd both been so convinced that we knew exactly how the other person felt that we hadn't bothered to actually ask them.

"But I did care about you," he assured me. "And you never told me how you felt either."

"I slept with you, didn't I?"

There was a smirk on my face as I threw his words back at him despite the anxiety that was bubbling inside me.

"A wise woman just informed me that sleeping with someone doesn't necessarily mean anything," he teased, a soft smile on his face. "But I think it's safe to say that we were both cowards."

"Again, in my defence, I was pregnant," I reminded him. "I was trying to make a logical decision while my brain was muddled with hormones."

"But you could have told me after," he pointed out. "We lived together for year after he was born, Whitney, and you never even dropped a hint."

"Oh, please," I snorted out a harsh laugh. "Do you remember what that year was like? We had a newborn baby who never slept for more than ten minutes at a time and you were flying in and out for the first six months, filming one of the Avengers movies. I was delirious, exhausted and emotionally wrecked. I wasn't in the right head space to give much thought to our relationship."

"So, if I had made a move back then? Would it have made a difference?" He asked. "Because it didn't seem to matter much a few months ago."

This was the real issue at hand.

It was all well and good to talk about the past and how we'd managed to come this far so oblivious to each other's feelings, but the real discussion was where we were at now. And the truth was, that I didn't know.

I opened my mouth to answer, but shut it as my words escaped me. I shifted nervously, shrugging under his stare until a sigh fell from my lips.

"I'm not sure anymore," I admitted. "If you'd told me how you felt back then, if you fought for us to be together then I might've been swayed."

"But now?"

"Now, I think we made the right decision for Grayson."

Chris was still staring me down, his eyes locked on mine as if he was looking into my soul. It was an intensity that was hard to endure and I was relieved when he spoke again, despite how his words made my heart ache.

"But what about the right decision for us?"

"That's not what's important," I insisted. "I've seen so many of my friends struggle through their parents' bitter divorces, I don't want that for Gray. I don't want us to lose our ability to work as a team and put him first."

"Yeah, you mentioned that several times," Chris huffed. "But I don't see why you're so fuckin' convinced that we'd end up hating each other."

His frustration and impatience was shining through and I felt my panic rising again. Chris had made his stance clear and I knew I needed to make a decision soon or my lack of decision would decide for me, but I felt like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The thought of not being with Chris made my heart ache especially now that I knew the extent of his feelings, but the thought of being with him and the consequences that could come from that set every anxious nerve in my body on edge.

I found myself scrambling for something to say that was non-committal, but would placate the situation. I floundered until, fortunately, a tiny voice from the doorway saved me.

"Daddy said a bad word..."

I leapt off the couch, desperate for any excuse to get away and Chris raised his eyebrow at my swift reaction. I ignored him as I looked at Grayson, who was rubbing his eyes with one hand and clutching his bear in the other. He looked so small, standing there in his little flannel pajamas and I smiled at the sight.

"That is a bad word," I agreed. "Daddy shouldn't have said it. But what are you doing up?"

"I had a bad dream."

His voice was small as he was still half asleep and Chris stood, following me over as I walked towards him.

"I'm sorry to hear that, buddy," he said, lifting him up in his arms. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Grayson shook his head. "It was scary."

"Awe, I'm sorry, sweetheart," I frowned as I rubbed his back, my heart melting at how small he looked in Chris' arms. "Do you want me to tuck you back in or Daddy?"

He rested his head on Chris' chest and pulled his bear so close that his answer got muffled by the stuffed animal's fur.

"I want to sleep in Daddy's bed..."

I looked up at Chris, letting him decide if that was okay, but he was already nodding his head.

"Sure, we can do that," he assured him. "But don't hog all the blankets this time, okay?"

Grayson giggled and I smiled as they headed to the door.

"Goodnight, boys," I called to them before they disappeared. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight." Chris paused to answer me and flashed me a look that made me feel like a schoolgirl being scolded by the principal. "This conversation isn't over."

It felt like a foreboding warning and it left me so flustered that all I could do was nod before he turned and continued on his way to his bedroom.

He was right.

Our conversation couldn't end there unless we wanted another four years of miscommunication and mutual longing, but I didn't know what to do. I wasn't trying to be difficult, but both options seemed destined to lead to heartache. Of course, I had no evidence to prove that we wouldn't live happily ever after, but he was Chris Evans. He was the man that women all over America, all over the world, would kill to be with. And I was just me. Once I fell off whatever pedestal he'd put me on in his mind and he realized how ordinary and unremarkable I was, it wouldn't last.

And I couldn't spend the rest of my life waiting for the other shoe to drop.

With a sigh, I headed to the stairs. My head was a mess despite my hopes that talking to Chris would bring me some clarity. It seemed I was starting a pattern of coming away from late night conversations with more questions than answers, but I was beginning to think that might be due to the fact that I would never be told what I wanted to hear. No one could make this decision for me and no one could make it a fool proof choice.

There was always a risk when it came to love. I just had to decide if that risk was worth it and start being honest with myself about why I was so scared. Were my intentions really as noble as I wanted everyone to believe? Or was I using Grayson as a shield to protect my own heart from pain as much as his?

-

Part Four

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10

[purpleyellow]

Hide & Seek

NCT 24th member / Dream 8th member

Bee’s Masterlist

“The two times Bee avoided Mark and the one she didn’t”

a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open!💛

Growing up, in general, is a pain in the ass, and Bee isn't the happiest about having to deal with it. She doesn't know if it's because of how she was raised, or if it's just her personality, but the girl cannot see herself as an adult.

You see, adults are supposed to manage five different tasks, have most things thought out, and try to handle everything that comes their way. Bee, however, wants to lay in bed at every minor inconvenience and wishes she could freeze time so she can digest what's happening.

She can see herself as those five-year-olds who pout, cross their arms and look away when you tell them they can't have ice cream for dinner. Just like she can see Jeno as those parents who bribe their kids to eat vegetables with a false promise of going to the ice cream parlor on the next day.

"Why don't you want to talk to him?" Jeno whispers to Bee midst the chaos in the van. The first time she successfully avoids Mark is when the members are leaving SM after a long day of figuring out stuff for the comeback. Things were only starting to come together, and the boy knows that if Mark and the girl don't figure out everything soon it's not going to be a fun process.

"I don't have anything to say" She mumbles looking out of the window. Jeno turns her head back to him before continuing.

"Maybe Mark has something. Or maybe he has questions"

"Good for him" She simply states. "I already said everything, so I'm not helpful to talk to"

"And you stand by everything you said almost six months ago?" He asks while trying not to laugh "You didn't think about it anymore? There, you said it and moved on"

"Yes, I stand by everything" She lies. Bee has relived every single conversation she has had with or about Mark especially lately, cringing at some stuff she said, making up better answers, and overanalyzing every little word even if they don't mean a thing. Jeno probably knows she does that, yet she's not going to admit that easily, because admitting means confronting the situation.

"Just maybe think things are exponentially worst when you're trying to avoid the topic instead of solving it once and for all" The boy mumbles and she rolls her eyes. Mentally thanking the manager who happened to pull up next to their building

Trying to escape that conversation as fast as possible, Bee holds onto the back of the seat in front of her, accidentally hitting Jaemin in the head, and jumps past Jeno, who frows as he watches her bolt out of the vehicle.

The girl only stops as she reaches the elevator because of the light feeling on her hoodie pocket. She had left her phone behind, throwing away all the work she just put into getting to her room without speaking with anyone else.

Walking back to the van, Bee keeps her head down to avoid making eye contact and waves off Renjun after he shared a proverb about people skipping a step only to return two. Honestly, he might have said something different because the meaning flew right above her head.

The manager, who had also left the vehicle to check on something at their apartment, throws his keys for her to catch and tells her to be quick.

Bee goes straight to the seat she had occupied and starts searching through the openings where the phone might have fallen from, ultimately deciding it was somewhere on the floor. Patting away underneath hers and Jeno's seat, she finally moves on to the row in front of them, getting scared by a light and the muffled sound of her phone ringing.

Almost like a miracle, she was getting a call from someone who might have saved her a couple of seconds of searching. Reaching out for the device, her smug grin turns to a frown as the name "Minhyung from Canada" shines on her screen. A confused noise leaves her mouth while Bee gets up from the floor, though her debating over either answering or not doesn't go very far due to said Canadian standing at the door of the van.

"I thought if I helped out find it, you would finally listen to me," Mark says, ending the call. Though, it seems like that was the only line he had rehearsed because after it they both stay in awkward silence, making Bee look down at the device in her hands before raising an eyebrow.

"Well, my hand touched it before the call got connected?" She, not as confidently, lies again.

Mark shakes his head adamantly "No it didn't"

"Do you have eyes on the floor?" The girl frowns trying to make that topic last longer but he doesn't fall for it.

"Yunhee," He says in a disappointed tone which Bee copies by saying "Mark"

Mark raises one eyebrow feeling rather playfully. "Mark Oppa?" and she rolls her eyes while planing an escape route.

The boy seems to remember what he was there for and scratches his head, suddenly bringing back the awkward mood.

"We should clear everything up, you know" His tone is back to uncertain surprising her by the sudden change and Bee feels her hands clamming up. She knows he's waiting for her to show any kind of reaction but for some reason, she cannot have any.

"Guys, I have to get the car back to the building. You can keep the conversation going at either of your dorms" The manager pops his head through the driver’s seat before climbing it. Bee hands him the keys and both idols slowly step out of the vehicle. Her mind is still blankly looking for a way to avoid listening to whatever the older had to say when the man magically says something that fixes all of her problems. "Actually, Mark come here, it's about 127's schedule tomorrow, something came up"

And she doesn't stay to listen as she bolts to the elevator that's taking her to her safe and Mark-free bedroom.

☆☆☆

The second time Bee avoids him, or gets saved by another person, happened a few days after the van accident when she rapidly types on her phone while running to the end of the hallway where the SM elevators are.

The sound indicating the doors opening on her floor catches her attention and Bee doesn't have to fully look inside the place to see Mark standing on the edge, ready to walk out of it. Almost without thinking, her feet make her turn left into another hallway and she instinctively makes her way to the room she had visited many times before.

Bee knows for a fact Mark is supposed to go to the studio she had just left, so the fact she can hear him doing the same route she is, makes adrenaline pump inside of her and the girl starts sprinting as fast as she can.

She finds it stupid how her brain suddenly read that moment as her being chased by something dangerous, but there's not enough time to let her process the situation. Instead, Bee barges through the door of Kun's studio and throws herself onto the space between the empty couch and the wall.

Crouching so she's hidden by the armrest, Bee simply says "I'm not here" before staring at the floor in front of her, making the WayV leader question why he's even surprised at that point.

A series of three knocks on the door makes Kun get up and go greet whoever had the decency to announce themselves before interrupting his work like half of his groupmates usually do. Keeping the door half-opened, he's half surprised by Mark standing a little distance away while seemingly sorry to be in that position.

"Hyung, my bad for coming here. But I was wondering if I could talk to Bee" The boy says scratching his eyebrow.

"I mean, of course, you can" Kun starts making the girl's heart drop "I'm not sure why you're asking me, though. And next time you see her, let her know I also need to speak with her"

"Oh, yeah. Sure?" Mark says uncertainly tilting his head and closing his eyes. He stares inside the room through the small space Kun allowed and sighs defeated "Sorry about it, I'll just go"

Waving to the boy, Kun waits for him to walk a little before closing the door and turning to the hidden girl. "You know we could see the top of your head, right?"

"Wait, he saw me?" Bee asks with wide eyes, supporting her head on the armrest and the boy rolls his eyes "Probably yes. The kid is just too polite to say anything about it"

Standing up from the ground, the girl sits on the couch to wait for a little before leaving the room. Kun takes the opportunity to throw himself back on his chair and interrogates her.

"Why are you avoiding Mark?"

"I stole his charger so now he's mad" She pouts looking at the ground making the older scoff.

"I'm not buying anything that simple. Don't think I haven't noticed you've been almost daily in our dorm instead of hanging out with your unit. We like when you visit but it became a little weird when we're not even there yet you still go hide inside our apartment"

"It's too complicated" She sighs craning her neck to check the clock "And I'm actually late for something, so you'll have to deal with my stupid high school problems sometime later"

"They're only stupid because you thought over them a million times and began downplaying whatever they are. You can't do that forever and you know it"

"Confrontation makes me cry, so I'll try my best to keep pushing it away" Bee smiles like something uplifting was said and stands up "See you later"

"Sure, good luck with your date" Kun smirks turning back to the table and checking on his work. Noticing she hadn't actually left the door he lets out a chuckle "Chenle told me about it"

"It's not a date. Chenle was literally invited to tag along" Bee rolls her eyes and he shrugs despite not looking back at her.

"Sure, have fun"

☆☆☆

Ever since Mark first showed his confusion over how things were going, Bee tried really hard not to make the situation awkward for everyone. She didn't want them to be extra careful around her, nor feel like this big dramatic thing was going on between the group. And to lessen her worries, the dreamies seemed to act the same they had always been.

There is the fact she isn't talking to Mark, but much to her surprise, the girl realized she never really relied a lot on speaking to him. Pretending everything was fine became part of her routine for that two weeks.

But just like Kun caught onto her distancing herself, a bunch of staff members also did. The choreographer who first introduced them to the routine asked her a couple of times if everything was okay, and the producer noticed the idol was out of the room the time she was finished, not really mingling like the rest of the boys.

Those two didn't really say anything about it, since she was still getting work done. That isn't the same for the management team, who not only saw her change in behavior but feared how much of that would be noticeable in videos and the overall dynamic of what they had waiting for the comeback.

"Bee, can I talk to you for a second" One particular manager called for her as she was resting on the corner of the dance studio.

Bee gathered her things in a pile on the floor and got up to follow him out of the room. The man had worked with NCT for a really long time, but he wasn't the closest manager to her, nor had ever taken care of her individual schedules. She knew whatever he had to tell her wasn't going to be very good.

"We don't want to intrude on whatever is going on in your life. But the moment it affects the group I'm afraid somebody needs to step in" The man sighs walking slowly next to her "If you're not feeling well, or something happened to make you not want to be around the members you need to act on it, or tell somebody so no one gets suspicious of it"

"I'll make sure no one notices it" She mumbles playing with her ring and rolls her shoulders "It's not something to be worried about though. Nothing really happened"

"We'll some people started to point out on Jisung's graduation video that you're often really quiet. Considering your personality it's nothing out of the ordinary, but you can't afford it pilling up and fans talking about it. We're aware of what that saesang said last year and don't think the company forgets easily if more fans start thinking you don't want to be in the group or doesn't belong in it, it's going to be a big problem"

"More people are talking about it?" Bee glances once again to the ring Renjun made her wear.

"It's a small number so far, but there are those who think that by Mark coming back and you being a little quieter, your place might be in another unit," He notices her gaze turning down and places a hand on her shoulder"Don't stress over it right now, just dedicate yourself a little more to the group and show you have a place in it. It should pass after some time"

Patting her, he reminds her to 'go back to normal before heading back to his work. Bee feels a slight headache creeping in and sneaks into a smaller room dedicated to vocal training, where she drops her body on a chair and closes her eyes to either sleep or try to gather some courage and face everything she has avoided so far.

The girl ends up doing neither because a few seconds pass and Mark pushes his head inside the room.

"Can we talk now?" He asks and without any energy left, Bee nods to the chair next to her for him to sit.

[babymetaldoll]

So happy together II (Spencer Reid / Reader)

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Frustration and cursing.

Category: Fluff

Summary: After years in the making, Spencer finally asked Reader out, just to bump into reality. They work at the BAU, and psychopaths don’t have a schedule.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Reader

Word count: 2,1K

A/N: Seriously guys, thank you for all the nice comments 🖤  and thank you for requesting part two!!

Part 1

Masterlist

.Here’s the thing about the BAU. It’s a great job, with amazing people, that helps saving lives across the country.

But it doesn’t let you have an everyday life. And less, having dates. Including the date you’ve been waiting for years.

- We’ve got a case

Spencer was on his way to pick up (Y/N) for dinner when he got the text and nearly smashed the phone against the ground.

He knew it wasn’t Penelope’s fault to ruin his evening. She had no idea what she had gotten in the middle of. If she had known, it was most likely she would have caught the unsub by herself, just to let Reid and (Y/N) have their first date in peace.

But no.

Spencer felt a weird mix of anger, frustration, and… relief. Sure, he wanted to go out on a date with the girl he had been in love with for years. Years. What kind of person loves someone for years and never acts on it because of the deepest fear of rejection? Spencer Walter Reid.

But after he asked her out, and after miraculously she said yes, Spencer had no idea what was going to happen. And that was killing him. Statistically, he knew 76% of friendships could end up in a relationship, and 29% of those, in marriage. But he also knew just 51% got their best friend back when things went sour.

That was what scared him the most. Losing his best friend.

Besides, there was something else bothering him. He had no idea what he was doing. He had never been into a relationship. A real one. He had had one girlfriend for a few months when he was in college, and that was it. He didn’t need statistics to know he was most likely to fuck things up. Sure, he had been out on dates in the latest years, but none of those counted as a relationship.

Spencer Reid was looking for reasons to freak out. And he had plenty. He held his phone tight for a few seconds. There was no other way. He had to go to the BAU. 

- “Fuck you!!”- (Y/N) yelled as soon as she read the text from work. She was walking out of the bathroom, ready to go out on the date she had waited for years. And a psychopath had to ruin it all.

Of all days, of all nights, did it have to be that one?

(Y/N) had barely slept the night before. That’s how excited she was about her date with Reid. She even got a new dress. Sure, she was scared things wouldn’t work out, she had been afraid of that for years, but since (Y/N) heard him say “Doyouwannagooutwithme,” she couldn’t wait.

There was so much she wanted to do with Reid. Hold his hand, kiss him until her lips were numb, spend a whole day naked in bed with him. Wrap her arms around him and feel him doing the same as she buried her face against his chest. There was too much love in her heart, and she needed to express it once for all.

That until a psychopath decided it was time to make her life a little worse.

- “Raincheck?”- Spencer texted her, and she just sighed. It was sweet that he texted though she knew he hated it. 

- “We are doomed” 

.

- “There’s been a double homicide and child abduction in Wichita”- Aaron announced, but Reid wasn’t actually listening. His eyes were analyzing (Y/N) ’s face across the table. She looked different that day. Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore she had never looked more beautiful. And her beauty was now a magnet for him.

- “Reid?”- Aaron asked and forced him to wake up from his thoughts- “When we get there, I need you and (Y/N) to go talk with the forensic. We need to know everything you can get from the last victim’s body.”

Reid nodded and immediately met her eyes. She just cut him a small smile and blushed. At least they were going to spend some time together.

.

- “Hey”- (Y/N) whispered and sat next to Reid in the jet- How are you?

- “Good, you?”

- “Sleepy…”

- “Do you want me to go get you some coffee?”- it was impossible not to melt at those words. She smiled sweetly at him and shook her head.

- “I’m ok. Do you wanna go through the case files with me?”- that isn’t an exciting invitation: reading about dead people, crime scenes, and police records, except when it’s an invitation made by the one person you love.

Spencer smiled and (Y/N) moved a little closer to him. Closer, so his leg touched hers, and he felt the warmth of her bared skin. Maybe she had worn a skirt on purpose. His hands started sweating in a second. It was weird how he felt he couldn’t control himself around her anymore after just asking her out. They hadn’t been out yet, and now all he could think of was holding her and kiss her.

(Y/N) had problems concentrating, but she knew she had to. All she could see were Spencer’s lips parting, and the way he ran his tongue through them was probably illegal in many states. Besides, the way he raised his eyes to her each time he finished reading a page… he couldn’t look so good for someone who was reading about two men decapitated.

- “Reid?”- Morgan kept chuckling, as he noticed the moment between Spencer and (Y/N)- “Hey! kid!”  

- “Sorry, what?”- Derek shook his head, and Spencer knew right away what his friend was thinking- “So? no random fact about decapitation?”

- “Well… contrary to popular belief, decapitation is not that easy”- Derek asked for random, and random is what he got, ‘cos that was the first and only thing Spencer could come up with at that moment.

- “You don’t often hear “popular” and “decapitation” in the same sentence”- Rossi added and continued reading the files.

.

Despite the fact they were dealing with a hard case and that their heads were focused entirely on it, (Y/N) and Spencer managed to spend a little time together the three days they spent in Wichita. They would get coffee together in the morning and bring cupcakes to the team. 

Hotch was nice enough to set them together most of the time. They had no idea it was Aaron’s way to push them together. They even walked back to the hotel together once, just talking about all the silly random things they would always talk about. Just that now they would just stare in silence every once in a while. Both of them thinking about how it would feel to kiss. It was like their lips were calling each other.

And all just from one “Doyouwanngooutwithme”

.

The case was finally solved - luckily, it only took three days, for a moment (Y/N) thought it was going to take forever- and they were all on the jet again, ready to go back home.

Everybody was exhausted and in silence, most of them sleeping. (Y/N) made herself a cup of tea and sat alone at the back of the plane. It was hard each time they closed a case, ‘cos taking their minds off from all the darkness and murder wasn’t easy. Every time they traveled back home, she had a list of things to think about. All the things that made her happy. Her cat, her little nephew, to walk Lizzy with Reid, talk with Reid, laugh with Reid, watch movies with Reid.

It was time to face it: Reid was her list. He was the one person that could always make her happy.

- “Hey, what are you thinking?”- and speak of the devil, Reid sat next to her and smiled sweetly.

- “I was just… trying not to think about the case anymore”- technically, she wasn’t lying- “And you? what are you reading?”

Spencer sighed and showed her “The complete fiction of HP Lovecraft,” the book she had given him a few weeks ago, out of the blue, just because she loved the author and… and Reid.

- “Nice, how many times have you read it in these few days”

- “Five…”

There were many, many things Spencer could have added to that simple word. But he couldn’t, his brain shut off. There they were, the lips he wanted to kiss (and bite), smiling back at him. He couldn’t think. 

- “So… too bad we couldn’t go out for dinner”- (Y/N) felt a little embarrassed to bring it up. Still, someone had to do it anyway. They had danced around the subject those days, just smiling and blushing when they were together.

- “Yeah… too bad… I had reservations at this amazing place”- Reid felt like a dork after hearing himself, but he couldn’t just unsay it.

- “Yeah, well… anyway…”- and so, again, they just stared.

- “Doyouwannagofordinnerwithmewhenwegethome?”- and though he was whispering and slurring at the same time, (Y/N) managed to hear and understand what he was trying to say.

- “Now?”

- “Yeah… I know it’s late, but I know this great place...”

- “We are not eating chicken tandoori again”- she answered immediately- “You’ve dragged me to that place twenty-two times in the latest years… and before you ask, no, I didn’t count them, I’m just trying to make a point”

He smiled and nodded. There had been sixteen times, he knew it, but for once, he thought it wasn’t necessary to add that fact.

.

Paperwork was done and ready around ten. And though they were exhausted, both (Y/N) and Spencer were excited about their date. Only one detail. Spencer was nowhere to be seen.

- “Are you coming, (Y/N)?”- Prentiss asked as she walked to the elevator

- “Yeah, in a second, I just have to... “- and the phone on her desk rang

- “See you tomorrow, I guess!”- Emily waved and disappeared.

- “Hello?”

- “S.S.A. (Y/N) (Y/L/N), there’s someone here looking for you”- the call was coming from the front desk.

- “Who?”- that was new

- “Doctor Spencer Reid, he says he is here to pick you up for your date”- (Y/N) just giggled nervously and said she’ll be right there. She was drained after the case, and she didn’t look half as hot as she did on the dress she had gotten for their official date, but she was going to go out with Spencer, and that was what really mattered.

The elevator didn’t take her to the first floor fast enough, and she would have run over if she hadn’t felt her knees weaken.

Spencer Reid felt like a dork, but he was a happy dork. He had managed to call a florist’s, and they delivered a dedicated bouquet of (Y/N) ’s favorite flowers just on time. He was waiting for her standing in the middle of the lobby, smiling and looking straight at the elevator door. His heart just skipped a beat when he saw her walking over, slower than usual. She wanted to run to him, but she didn’t trust her legs. She had never been more nervous on a date before. 

- “Hi”- she whispered and giggled as she stood in front of him

- “Hi”- both of them let out a sigh and smiled at each other

- “The call was a nice touch”- (Y/N) said and turned to the front desk. The receptionist smiled and waved.

- “I had to make it an official date, even when we are here, which reminds me, these are for you”- Spencer was smoother than he realized, ‘cos (Y/N) was nearly melting at each one of his words.

- “Thank you”

- “So, ready to go?”- she nodded and held his arm as they walked- “Wait, there is just one thing I need to do before we leave”- Spencer stopped walking suddenly and (Y/N) looked a little confused

- “Did you forget something back at your desk?”

- “No, I just”- but he didn’t say another word. He just cupped her face with both hands and sweetly kissed her. (Y/N) held her breath in shock. Spencer was kissing her. Spencer Reid was kissing her. It was actually happening. 

His lips rubbed hers slowly as she reciprocated the kiss. It felt sweet and warm and tender, though slowly, as the kiss deepened, they could feel the passion hidden in them.

Despite the fact neither of them wanted to, they slowly moved apart and sighed. Reid rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes for a second, trying to put himself together. That kiss got him higher than Dilaudid had ever done.

- “I didn’t see that coming”- she whispered and giggled

- “I’m sorry”- he whispered, feeling embarrassed

- “Don’t be”

- “I just knew I wasn’t going to focus on anything else but kissing you for the rest of the night… so I thought it was better to do it right now”

- “It was a good idea, I was going to do the same… so… dinner”- (Y/N) smiled at Spencer and held his hand tight. He nodded and started walking. But she stooped him

- “What is it?”- but instead of talking, she just kissed him again, and this time, she wrapped his arms around her tight.

- “Ok, now I’m ready.”

Taglist:

@shilohpug

[robert-de-niro-only-fans]

Ace of Hearts

Sam “Ace” Rothstein x Reader

Hi guys! Corny title, I KNOW, but I’m so incredibly happy to finally be posting this. I’ve been working on it since December, and it’s probably the longest thing I’ll ever write! Just to give you a quick rundown: it’s based off of Casino so you’ll see some familiar events and verbiage, but it’s told out of order to fit what I wanted and there’s a new character (Miss y/n). I have worked so so hard on this, so I hope you all love it! Thank you so much!

TW: smut, anything in Casino that triggers you may be in here, violence, injury, drinking, smoking, drugs, death, threats, cheating/affair, divorce, cursing, etc.

Word Count: 17.9k

"(Y/N)! Good evening, it's nice to see you, hun," Sam says, wrapping his arms around your waist for a hug and giving you a kiss on the cheek, "Looking beautiful as always." You place a hand on his chest, taking in the scent of his cologne; he always smelled good and expensive.

You are at Sam's casino, The Tangiers; he had invited you for dinner, like he does regularly. You and Sam are good friends; you met through Billy, the casino manager, and so Sam invites you to dinner there quite often. When it came to the casino, he was quite the social butterfly: always wanting to show the casino off to people and being extremely hospitable so that word-of-mouth would travel and bring new people in.

"Thank you, Sam, how have you been since I last saw you?" Most people call him Ace, but he had introduced himself you as Sam, for some reason, so it just stuck.

"Really good, actually, I have some news for you," you had become a person that Sam likes to confide in; he trusts you, and he says it's nice to get a woman's perspective.

"And what is that?" you ask with a smile as you head towards your usual table.

"I'm dating someone," he says with a grin, trying not to be too proud of himself.

"Sam! Really? You found a girl?!" you stop, taking his hand, waiting for details.

"Yeah, we just got together a few weeks ago. She's... Well, she's like me, I guess," you both start walking towards the table again, "She's driven and she's got a big presence when she walks in a room. And she's just got this spark; I don't know what it is about her."

"Ah, he must be going on about Ginger," Billy says as you walk up to where he's seated, waiting on you, "yeah, he was starstruck the moment he laid eyes on her."

"She'll be here soon; I'd like you to meet her," Sam says to you. Despite being a very confident man, there were certain people he likes to get approval from; you feel honored to be one of those people.

So, you take your seats at the table, and as promised, Ginger is there only a little while later. You can tell it's her; she is exactly the way Sam described her. Her tall, blonde figure really captures everyone's attention, especially Sam's.

"Hey, gorgeous," Sam greets her, motioning for her to slide into the booth next you him.

"Hi, Sam," she hands him her clutch purse and sits down, giving him a peck on the lips. He goes around and introduces her to everyone at the table including you. She seems like she has a great personality and excellent people skills, but you couldn't help but feel a little jealous that she called him Sam too. You thought you were the only one, but it makes sense considering she is his girlfriend.

After everyone is settled in and food orders placed, Ginger leans forward so she can see past Sam to talk to you. "(Y/N)?" she says kind of quietly.

"Oh, hey!" you reply casually.

"I just wanted to say," she starts, "Sam talks about you a lot; it's nice to finally meet you, and I hope we can be friends. There aren't a lot girls in this business," she says with a bit of a chuckle at the end.

At that moment you both realize Sam is listening in on your conversation.

"Oh, well, thank you, Ginger. Any girl good enough for Sam must be really spectacular; he's a picky man!"

He puts his arm around her, "Spectacular is a good word to describe her." He takes your hand in one of his for just a moment, squeezing lightly and giving you a happy look, proud that you and her are getting along.

• • •

Over the next few months, you see Sam fall madly in love with Ginger. She couldn't deny that he was a very sweet man who gave her respect and anything should could ever ask for, but you could tell she never reciprocated those feelings as much as Sam. You get the feeling that she loved what he could do for her more than the man he was, but then again, maybe she's just slow to fall in love and you're being overprotective of your friend.

You trust Sam and know that even though he's in love, he'll maintain a level head. He treats everything like a business transaction.

As it turns out, that's exactly how he handles their engagement from what he tells you. You had stopped in for a visit at the casino, so he is sitting with you and catching up before he heads back out to the floor.

"Yeah, I told her that I know her feelings haven't developed as quickly as mine, but that if she lets me marry her, she'll be taken care of for the rest of her life, and she won't have to hustle the streets anymore. The love will come, I know it will," Sam explains to you, although it seemed like that last part was for him.

"And she said yes?" you ask.

"Yes. She said yes. She even agreed to have a baby with me." You'd never seen such a happy look in his eyes; Sam had always wanted a family, and it took a long time, but it's finally happening for him.

While this worried you a bit, you press on, "So, when's the wedding?!" you try to joke.

"Oh, well, uh... In a year at least. We want to have the baby first; it was part of our deal."

"What? Sam," you try to make sense of what he just told you, "you don't find it a little odd that you had to negotiate your own engagement, and that you can't trust her to have a baby with you 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 you're married?"

"I mean, it's unconventional, but that's just Vegas."

"No, love is love, no matter what city you're in. You deserve someone who will love you and respect you as much as you love and respect them. Not many people see it, but you have such a big heart, Sam; don't let someone take advantage of it," you place your hands on his, and his eyes glance up at you. You both share a knowing look. As much as Sam respects your opinion, nothing will stop him once he wants something, and he wants Ginger: her trust, her respect, and her love.

You see Sam and Ginger several times throughout their pregnancy, and honestly, they couldn't be happier. Sam is going to have the baby he always wanted, and Ginger is getting all the attention in the world for carrying Sam Rothstein's child. You think maybe this will solve all their problems.

• • •

Just a few months after the baby was born, you received an invitation to their wedding. You had been by their apartment a few weeks prior to visit and meet the baby, and gosh, she was so cute. Sam lit up when he held her; he was so proud of his baby girl, Amy. But Sam hadn't mentioned anything about a wedding happening so soon, although they do have the money to make one happen quickly.

The wedding is very nice, although it's more of a party than a wedding. Ginger is a socialite, so it only makes sense that there would be more attention on the reception than the ceremony.

You go sit with Nicky and his wife Jennifer so that you can hold the baby, while Sam and Ginger cut the cake and share champage. This is supposed to be a happy moment for them, but you can tell something is off. Maybe it's because they don't have baby fever anymore; parenting is not easy, so that's what you chalk it up to.

As you're making faces getting the baby to giggle, you see Sam sneak off into a back room, presumably looking for Ginger. You continue to entertain their baby while you wait for him to come back; you hadn't really gotten a chance to see him all night, and you want to show your support and congratulate him.

As you chat with Nicky, you see Ginger and Sam return from wherever they had gone; only problem is, they went two different directions and Ginger had clearly been crying. That's not normal behavior for newly weds. Nicky takes notice as well and says, "Eh, uh, why don't you go check on him? I'll take the baby."

And so, you hand him Sam's little bundle of joy, and make your way across the ballroom to your friend. He had been pulled into a conversation that he clearly didn't want to be having, so you tap him on the shoulder and excuse him from the group of people. He puts his hand around your waist as you walk off.

"Dance with me," you say simply, and he happily agrees. You knew you'd be able to talk privately because you'd be so close to him on the dancefloor, and it wouldn't look suspicious like if you swept him away to a different room.

"Trouble in paradise already?" you ask him, "You two have been so happy the past few months, what's going on?"

"Well, I guess maybe she realized this is the end of the road, and that I'm the one she'll be stuck with the rest of her life... Whatever the reason, she felt the need to call her pimp, Lester Diamond," he explains, pursing his lips at the end; he was really frustrated and trying not to show it.

"What did she call him for? She doesn't still love him or something, does she?"

"She says she called him to let him know it was over and that she's married now. He was her first love, and the only thing in this whole world she's got a soft spot for."

"Oh, Sam... You don't deserve that; you don't deserve someone that's holding onto their baggage with someone else."

"Well then maybe I should've married someone like you," he says with a small laugh and a look of longing in his eyes. He pulls you even closer to him, and you hold him a bit tighter in an effort to comfort him.

"You shouldn't say things like that on your wedding day," you say quietly next to his ear.

"But it's true. You've got the looks, the personality, a great heart, but for some reason, I only want Ginger, or at least for a while I did." With that, he stares into your eyes for a little while, before kissing you on your jawline and neck a few times.

After a pause, you say, "Well, I hope that was the last time she calls him. You deserve nothing but the best, but I know how much you love her, so I hope you two will find happiness with one other." You decide not to say anything about the way he implied that he wanted to be with you or the way he just kissed you; maybe that would make it worse. That probably isn't how he really feels; he's probably just speaking from a place of being hurt by Ginger. You stop dancing and hug him, "Congratulations on your big day, it was beautiful and glamorous in way that only Sam Rothstein could do."

You both share a laugh and hopeful smiles. His hand finds yours as you start to walk away, and he gives it a squeeze before letting his arm drop to his side.

"Everything okay?" Nicky asks when you get back to the table.

"Yeah, everything's gonna be fine," there wasn't much point in explaining it to him, he had a thing for Ginger, so he would make excuses for her. Plus it wasn't your news to share, Sam trusted that you would keep his secrets, because that's how you'd always been.

You grabbed your things to leave, and you shot one quick glance back at Sam before heading out. He was hugging Ginger, trying to comfort her; that didn't stop the nasty look she gave you when she saw you looking at her man. "Sadly, he belongs to her now," you think as you take in the cool night air outside the wedding chapel, "legally, at least."

• • •

The next several months of their marriage only take a turn for the worse. The issue isn't that they don't understand each other, it's that they're exactly alike: both strong-minded with the will to get what they want. The issue is that the things they want don't align with the other person's goals. Sam wants a successful casino and to have Ginger's love, but Ginger is someone who can't be tamed; she wants money wherever she can get it, and she wants to be the center of attention.

The thing that works on Sam's nerves more than anything is that Ginger just refused to cut ties with Lester Diamond.

"She just keeps- she- she asked me for all this money, and she won't tell me what it's for," Sam is fuming as he vents to you about his wife, "She knows I would give her anything she wants of she'll just tell me what it's for. She won't be honest with me, and that's how I know she's up to no good."

"What do you think the money is for?" you ask, placing your hand on his. He had come over to your house just to visit and have a few drinks. This has become a regular thing since he married Ginger; he relies on your company and your advice.

"Mmm, it's just a suspicion, but I think it might be for that pimp." He rubs his thumb across the back of your hand as he held it.

"I thought she ended things with him, but I wouldn't put it past her to go behind your back. I'm sorry that you can't trust your own wife; I know you value that so much."

"Well, I'm at least glad to know that someone in this world still has values like me. In a town like Las Vegas, everyone is so cutthroat. Sometimes I think you and Billy are the only ones left with a moral compass."

"You have one too, Sam, and a good heart," you pull him towards you, and he lies across the couch to place his head in your lap. He is only casual like this with a few people, but he finds it fun to kick back and relax with you. He looks up at you while you gently comb your fingers though his hair; eventually it will work the gel out of his hair, but you like it when he let his waves hang loose. "What are you gonna do about her giving Lester that money?"

"Hm, I don't know yet," he answers with raised eyebrows and a shoulder shrug.

"What if you let her have the money?"

"So she can give it to that scumbag?"

"Listen, honey," you chuckle at him, "what if you let her have the money, knowing she's going to give it to Lester, but you and Nicky's guys show up with her. Put him in his place, rough him up, that way he won't come begging on her doorstep again. AND she'll see what happens if she tries to give him your money again."

A surprised look appears on his face, "Damn, baby, you been hanging out with Nicky, taking some notes from him? It almost sounds like you hate my wife or something!" You both laugh together.

Your laughter dies off, and you look down at his face in your lap, "I hate the way she treats you." It's the simple truth; he deserves better.

• • •

A few weeks later, you're at a pool party at Billy's place. Las Vegas summers are hot, so pools are basically a requirement out here.

Normally, Sam brought Ginger to these kinds of things; that's just what you were supposed to do, but you had convinced him to come by himself. At first the thought made him uncomfortable, because he knew it would cause another argument at home, but he also just wanted to get away for a while. And so, he left Ginger with a stack of cash, told her to go shopping, and came over to Billy's.

You don't notice Sam when he first arrives; you're in the pool taking to some of Billy's business associates, some you had met before, some you hadn't. One of these guys has made himself really comfortable with you: grabbing at your hips and trying to keep you close to him. You're used to men like this putting their hands on you, and it's normally very casual, but this guy is being more aggressive than you are used to.

He's putting his arms around you and pulling you really close to his chest. You use your arms as a barrier between you and him; it's really more awkward than anything.

"Excuse me?"

You look over your shoulder to see Sam standing at the edge of the pool.

"Yeah?" the guy asks, adjusting his arm around you once again.

"Would you mind if the lady came with me?" Sam asked, pouring on the charm.

"She's fine here."

"Looks like she'd rather be with me" Sam says giving you a coy look.

The guy look at you, then back at Sam, "And who the fuck are you?" he replies, rudely.

"Someone you don't want to piss off." Sam takes your hand, and you free yourself from this other man. Sam helps you out of the pool and snags a towel for you to wrap yourself up in.

"Thank you for that," you tell Sam as you walk over to a table where Billy and his wife are.

"Eh, I'm sorry that he felt he could treat you like that. He'll be taken care of." You know what that means.

There are several people gathered around the table, people Sam and Billy work with at the casino, but they're also friends. Sam takes a seat in one of the lounge chairs and pulls you into his lap. Everyone at the table says their hello's and Sam whipsers to you, "Thank you for inviting me... And suggesting I leave the wife at home." He rubs a hand across your thighs and the other rests on your back.

This is a crowd that you and Sam are comfortable being close in. You two were always like this before he got with Ginger, so it feels nice to have him close to you again. You gently squeeze at his side, while he lights a cigarette and takes a puff. He offers it to you, but you just smile and shake your head.

"Hey, Billy," Sam starts.

"Yeah, Ace?" he asks, turning his attention to the man next to you.

"You see that dopey ass motherfucker in the pool over there?" Sam asks, pointing with his cigarette between his fingers, "The tall one at the center of that group?"

"Yeah, yeah, I see him. Did he do something?"

"He thought it was okay to make (Y/N) here uncomfortable, and he tried to mouth off at me about it," Sam explains.

"(Y/N), is that true? What did he do to you?" Billy asks you.

"He was just being weird and way too handsy. I tried to get away from him but he would just grab me if I did that. I didn't wanna make a scene though."

Billy turns to look back at the group of guys in the pool, "And all those guys with him just let it happen, huh?" He turns back to you, "It'll be handled. That's unacceptable."

Sam gives your waist a squeeze, and you share a look with him. "You gonna get in the pool at all today?" you ask him, motioning to his outfit: khaki slacks, a button up shirt (unbuttoned a little bit), and a pale pink sports coat.

"I don't know, I'm having a good time right here. You look good in that bikini, baby," he whispers the last part, rubbing his fingers over the string on your back, "it doesn't leave much to the imagination..."

"Just the parts that all you boys want to see," you bite your lip, and you both giggle quietly.

The afternoon goes by with casual conversation as you and Sam lounge back in your chair with you leaning against his chest and your face tucked into the crook of his neck. He keeps his arms around you, as he chats and enjoys some drinks and cigarettes with the guys at the table.

Soon, the sun begins it's descent before the moon comes out, which means the temperature is dropping too. Vegas has some of the hottest days and the coldest nights.

You sit up from your cozy spot against Sam's chest and pluck the cigarette holder from between his lips. He raises his eyebrows at you as you take a drag off of it, then you exhale the smoke at the same time as him.

A warm smile spreads across your face as you return the cigarette to him. "I'm gonna go change," you whisper to him before getting up and heading inside Billy's house.

Upstairs in the bathroom, you take your change of clothes out of your bag and lay them out on the counter. You hear a small knock at the door before Sam enters the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

"Sam? What are you doing?" you ask him.

He walks over and places himself behind you, looking you up and down in the mirror. He wraps his arms around your midsection and rests his chin on your shoulder, making eye contact with you, again in the mirror.

"You're so beautiful," is all he says before one hand travels to your hip, and his lips find your skin. He kisses at your neck slowly but sensually; you close your eyes as your back arches into him. He has you turned on in a matter of seconds; you had never realized you wanted him this bad.

One of his hands slides up your back and pulls the string of your bikini top, untying it and leaving your back bare. Your top hangs on by the knot at the back of your neck.

His kisses grow increasingly sloppy as he becomes more turned on for you. One of his hands cups at the underside of your breast, while the other holds your hips in place. You feel his erection in his pants against your backside, as he unties one of the knots at your hip.

"Sam-" You want him badly, but your conscience won't let you do this. "Sam."

His motions stop and he looks up at you in the mirror. You turn around in his arms so that you can look him in the eyes. With a bittersweet look on your face, you say, "We can't do this. You're married, Sam. We can't do this, especially not in Billy's house."

A look of clarity comes to his eyes as you talk some sense into him. "Yeah, yeah, you're right," he answers. He reaches for a towel and wraps it around your body, as if to cover up the thing that was tempting him. You tie the towel in place and go ahead and remove your bikini, dropping it to the floor. Sam pulls you into a hug, holding your toweled waist tight, "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I'm so sorry."

• • •

The next time you see Sam is just for a normal get-together at The Tangiers. Being the gentleman he is, he treats you as if the incident at Billy's place never happened, and it's best this way; he's one of your best friends after all.

This dinner is anything but normal, however. Ginger had started to catch on to Sam leaving her at home. You got the feeling Nicky was the one who let her in on that secret.

Ginger storms into the casino, making a scene like she always does; she's always been the kind of person you hear before you see when she's angry. Security follows her over as she makes her way to the table with their little girl on her hip. Sam stands up and rushes over to her, in an effort to keep Ginger away from everyone at the table. It doesn't work that well, she continues pushing towards the table as she screams at him about leaving her at home and making her take care of their toddler.

Sam gets the kid from Ginger, and she pushes past him and towards you, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU PUT THE IDEA IN HIS HEAD TO START SNEAKING AROUND ON ME!"

You sit there, completely taken back. You would try to say something, but you wouldn't get a word in as Ginger is letting you have it.

Sam comes over, grabbing Ginger's arm and pulling her to face him, "What the fuck is the matter with you? What the fuck is the MATTER WITH YOU?! Bringing our kid here at this time of night! Screaming at (Y/N)!" He points at you, "You ain't had nothin' to do with her since you met!! And you wanna come in here and blame your problems on her?!"

You had never seen Sam so angry before, screaming at the top of his lungs like this in front of everyone, in his own casino. There was a pause as everyone waited for what was gonna happen next.

Quietly, Ginger speaks, "Oh my God," her voice cracked like she was about to cry, "oh my God, you're defending her..." She turns to walk away, crying into her hands. Sam quickly hands Amy over to you and runs after Ginger.

Security follows them, and everyone at the table sits in silence as you all listen to Ginger yell and cry at Sam on the way outside, "You never defended me! To anyone! For anything! You've never defended me like that!"

• • •

A few days later, flowers show up at your house with a note from Sam.

"I'm so sorry for the other night and how crazy things have been lately. Let's go out and I'll make it up to you. -S. R."

Attached is a reservation card telling you that you're having dinner with him tonight at a small restaurant you used to go to when Sam first moved out to Las Vegas.

"I'm so glad you actually came. I thought maybe you didn't want anything to do with me after Ginger yelled at you like that."

"Have I ever been the type of girl that would blame you for your wife's actions?" you say greeting him with a kiss on the cheek, "it's good to see you all in one piece; I was worried what she might do to you." You both chuckle and sit down at your table.

"I just- uhh, I just wanted to take you out like we used to do before everything got so crazy. Back when I was still getting used to the desert and Billy introduced me to you; it was just simple... and always fun when you were around. So I just thought maybe we could re-live that for a night," Sam explains his reasoning for bringing you here alone.

"Well I think it'll be fun," you say reaching over and giving his hand an encouraging squeeze, "This place always had great food!" You lean back in your seat, slide your heels off under the table, and prop your feet up in Sam's lap across from you. He raises his eyebrows, giving you a look. "Well you said you wanted it to be like old times!" you exclaim.

After dinner and dessert, you both sit back with your bellies full. The food was so rich and lovely; you both ate so much more than you normally would have, but you aren't in the company of anyone fancy so you cut loose.

"You wanna get out of here? I got somewhere I'd like to take you," Sam asks.

"Ooooh, honey, I don't think I can move, I'm so full!" you groan at him, "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere you took me when I first moved here and I needed some peace and quiet from the city."

And with that, you let him take you by the hand and lead you out to his car. When you cruise past the strip and out into the dark dessert, you lean on his shoulder and ask, "You're not gonna whack me, are you?"

"Now, I couldn't tell you if I was. Typically the guy you're gonna whack doesn't ask ya, and typically the guy you're gonna whack is a guy," you both laugh. Tonight really had been like old times.

You slide over and lay down, laying your head in his lap. He put his arm across your chest and shoulder as if you were an arm rest, and he looks down at you. "Eyes on the road, Mr. Rothstein!"

"Yes, ma'am" he cracks a smile and looks up like he's supposed to.

Parked just a few miles out in the desert, Sam gets out the car, grabbing a blanket from the back, and tossing it across the hood of the car. He also grabs an extra jacket for you for when it gets cold.

"Alright, get outta the car," he says, looking at you laid across the front seat of his Cadillac.

"Mmmm... but I'm so cozy here," you whine.

Sam grabs you by your feet and drags you across the seat to pull you up out of the car. Once you're on your feet, he grips both of your shoulders and looks you over, "Princess. You're a spoiled princess, you know that?" He grabs your hips and lifts you onto the hood of the car before walking around and hopping up to sit next to you.

"It's been forever since I came out here... Thank you for bringing me," you tell Sam as you lean back on the windshield of his car and look up at the endless sea of stars in the night sky. Out here in the desert, there was no light pollution, and it was such a clear night, it felt like there were a million stars up there.

"Want this?" Sam asks holding up his extra jacket.

You take it from him and bundle up in it. It was warm and smelled like him, like he had worn it recently or perhaps sprayed his cologne on it.

He put his arm around your shoulders; together, you looked up at night sky and talked, occasionally pointing out constellations or planets.

The lower the temperature drops, the more you snuggle into Sam. Every few moments you glance at each other, sometimes making eye contact and smiling at each other.

"Mm, come here," Sam grumbles pulling you into a full-on cuddle.

"Cold?" you joke.

"Nope, you're just too far away," he nuzzles his nose into your hair and leaves a kiss there.

You turn your head to face him, "Sam."

He places his hand on your cheek and sarcastically replies, "(Y/N)."

Your eyes linger on one another's for what feels like several minutes; for a moment, the whole world fell away and it was just the two of you. You both lean in, gently pressing your lips to one another's. You move your lips together slowly and carefully, as if you might break something. The moment lasts a long time, but not long enough.

Sam pulls back to look at you, "I love you."

You open your mouth to protest, but all that comes out is, "I love you, too."

Without another word, you both agree to not discuss it. Whether you liked it or not, things were about to get complicated, so you both just want things to be simple for the night.

• • •

You had always assumed Sam was the kind of man to take a woman to bed quickly in a relationship. Of course, your relationship is anything but conventional; you'd been friends for years, but now it was obvious those feelings of friendship had been something more all along.

You had spent some time together a few times since your outing to the desert. He greeted you with a kiss each of those times you met up, because you made sure to meet in private; word couldn't get out about this, or it would cause trouble with Ginger and the crime family Nicky and Sam were in. The family wouldn't take so kindly to Ginger causing a big scene over Sam's infidelity.

You and Sam also really wanted to take things slow; you didn't want to ruin a good friendship by rushing. So when he came to your house or you met in his office, you spent a lot of time in his arms, kissing him, and not too much more.

But your job right now is to act like none of that exists, like everything is just the way it's always been. You're at a big celebration for Sam; the gaming commission is giving an award to him for being such an important asset in the success of gambling in Las Vegas. Everyone who knows Sam is there; it's his big night!

As events like this usually go, Sam is at a table on a stage at the front of the room. His closest friends are all sat together: you, Billy, Nicky, Ginger, and a few others. On the surface everything is cool, but you know this mix of people isn't good news.

There are rumors floating around that the FBI agents keeping an eye on Nicky had gotten some pictures of him and Ginger together. Sam didn't want to pry into it; he didn't want another reason to be mad with her. Sam had also recently told you that Ginger's mysterious phone calls had started up again, and she refused to tell him who she was calling at all hours of the day. You and Sam both knew what that meant: Ginger is being anything but faithful to him.

It's a lovely dinner, aside from Ginger's remarks. It's almost like she knows about you and Sam somehow. Every time she mentions him, she makes sure to watch your reaction, and she makes several remarks like, "proud to call him my man," and, "so glad he belongs to me," while staring you down.

In an effort to try and make friendly conversation with Ginger, you lean over you her to say, "You know, I think Sam likes girls like us, because we're both like him: social and in the business. We make what he does look glamorous." You give her a hopeful smile.

She cuts her eyes and hits you with, "No, Sam likes a woman like me; we both came from the streets and had to hustle our way into money. Anyone can be a socialite in a nice gown. Some of us have more to show for it."

Upon hearing that, Billy gives Ginger a look of disapproval and puts his arm around you to comfort you. It couldn't be more obvious that she is trying to get a rise out of you, but you won't stoop to her level making a scene like that.

Ginger leans into Nicky, and you don't say much the rest of dinner.

After the award was presented to Sam and it's time to mingle, you work your way over to Sam, stopping to chat with several people along the way. As you approach him, it seems like the two of you only have eyes for each other. He greets you with a big smile spread across his face, a hug, and a kiss on the cheek.

With his hands on your waist, and your hands on his chest, you tell him, "I'm so proud of you. You work so hard, and you've been so good for Las Vegas."

"Yeah, well, Las Vegas has been good to me," he says looking you in your eyes lovingly, and raising his eyebrows briefly.

What you don't realize is that Ginger sees the whole exchange, but she does something very out of character: she keeps her cool... For now.

• • •

"It was... It was the way you looked at her. You didn't have to look at her like that," Ginger sobs into the pillow on her and Sam's bed.

"How did I look at her? Huh? What did I do?" Sam questions her, pacing around their bedroom.

Ginger shifts to look up at Sam with tear-filled eyes, "Like you love her... You looked at her like you love her."

"Ginger-" Sam starts and pauses to keep his composure, "What do you care how I look at her? You me you didn't love me! And I thought I could change you!"

There was a pause before he continued, "You're not making any goddamn sense; I don't know why I'm trying to talk any sense into you. You been drinkin' all the time, and those fuckin painkillers you took have your brain so fucked up right now... I don't even know why I'm trying; it's not worth it."

"You really feel that way?" she asks quietly.

"Feel what way?"

"That I'm not worth it. You really think that I'm not worth it?" she sits up and pushes some of the hair out of her face.

That small bit of love Sam still had for Ginger creeped back up; he couldn't hurt her like that.

He sat on the bed next to her, "No," he says as he pulls her into his chest, "I don't feel that way." He simply holds her as she cries into his shoulder.

• • •

"I guess she's spread herself too thin," Sam vents to you as you lie on your couch cuddling, "I think the drinking and the drugs are a distraction from all the men she's trying to hold down. She's never been able to keep Lester under control, Nicky is getting all kinds of heat on him with the cops in Vegas, and she's realized I don't love her the way I used to, or maybe the way I thought I did."

The last part was mostly directed at himself; Sam is coming to terms with the decision he made when he married Ginger, and he's realizing that maybe it wasn't love at all. After all, lust isn't built on trust and respect.

"Don't blame yourself for falling for her. She said something to me the other night, and as hurtful as it was, it was true."

"What did she say to you?" he asks, sitting up a bit and furrowing his eyebrows.

"Well, uh, I just told her that I think you like girls like us because we're like you, but we make the business more glamorous. And she told me that you would only like a woman like her because you both worked for the success you have, and that means you and her have more to show for it."

"She said that to you?"

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. If you went to her about it, it would only cause you more problems," you try to get him to relax. There was no point in him getting stressed over it.

He sighs and lays back down, holding you tight, "I'm so sorry she said that to you. It's not true. I think her and I understand each other because of our backgrounds, but I think you know I like you just as much, if not more than I ever liked her."

"I thought you might say something like that. That's why I tried to not let it bother me," you look up and kiss him a few times.

He turns you to lay on your back, and he puts his head on your chest. You run your fingers through his hair on the back of his head.

"I wish we could just run away. I made such a mistake starting a life with Ginger. I meant it-" his voice catches a bit, "I meant it when I told you I love you. I wish I could just put her in the past and spend the rest of my days with you."

His voice got so soft at the end of his statement. From this position you couldn't see his face, and you figured there was a reason for that, as you felt some dampness forming on your shirt.

You had never seen Sam cry over anything. In that moment, it made you realize how real his feelings are. Even after all the hell Ginger put him through, it didn't break him as much as the idea of being with you.

He lies there and tries to keep his breathing even, while you wrap your arms around him and hold him. He just desperately needs love and comfort from a woman who really cares about him.

• • •

Sam and Ginger got to the point that they could hardly stand to be around one another, so they take periods of separation from one another, and they trade off who keeps Amy. Although, Sam will admit that he's more at ease when his little girl is with him.

Whenever Sam has Amy, he tries to take at least one day off work every week to spend with her. She's getting to be more of a kid than a toddler now, and she enjoys spending time with her daddy.

Today, Sam invited you along to the park and a for a picnic with Amy; it's what she asked for!

"You look pretty in your little sundress, baby," Sam compliments you, as he pushes his kid on the swing.

"It's nice seeing you dressed down a bit, too. Turns out it isn't the suit jacket that makes you so handsome!"

He was just wearing slacks and a button up shirt: sleeves rolled up, no tie, no sports coat. Oh, and don't forget the sunglasses and cigarette holder.

"Hey, Amy?" Sam calls to his daughter while she swings up and down through the air.

"Yeah, daddy?"

"You wanna go eat lunch, sweetie?"

"No!"

"No?!" Sam exclaims sarcastically, "You don't wanna go eat your lunch? I packed your favorite."

She shook her head, despite the big smile on her face.

"PB and J's?!" he asks.

She shakes her head again.

"Applesauce?"

Another no.

"Hmmm... How about those cupcakes we picked up from the bakery?"

Her little face lights up and she tries to stop the swing. Sam scoops her up on his hip to carry her over to their picnic blanket. The whole exchange is extremely adorable; you love watching Sam be a daddy to his little girl!

At lunch, surprisingly Amy stays near you. You've been babysitting her since she was a baby, and now she sees you hanging out with her dad a lot; luckily she likes you. It's really important to Sam that you two get along.

"You're gonna make a great mom one day," he says, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Hmm? And what makes you think I'll be a mom?" you ask him, helping wipe something off Amy's cheek.

"If you stay with me, and if we end up together, you'll be Amy's new mom... aaaand maybe if you really like me, we could have a baby together," he looks down at his hands with a smirk on his face.

You put your hands over Amy's ears, and joke with him, "I think we should probably have sex before you ask me to have your baby! Although, you can trust me to have your baby 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 the wedding."

You let go of Amy's ears, while you and Sam double over in laughter.

"What's so funny?" she asks sassily, sounding just like her dad.

"Nothing, honey, you'll understand when you're older," Sam replies, petting her hair.

"You always say that, daddy. Can I go play?"

"Yes, but stay where we can see you, okay?"

"Okay!" she says, already running off. She's a busy body, just like him.

Sam pulls you into a spooning position and holds you so you can both keep an eye on Amy on the playground.

"So, you want me to make love to you, huh?" he grumbles lowly in your ear, placing some kisses on your neck.

"Mmm... Why don't you come over to my place one night and find out?" you tease at him.

• • •

You assumed tonight would be just a casual night at home, and you appreciate that, because it isn't often you get alone time. You had just gotten out the shower and decided to relax in your robe on the couch for the night.

That all changes when you hear the doorbell ring.

"Who could that be? I don't think I invited anyone over," you think as you walk to the door.

"Sam!" you exclaim, seeing him on your front stoop, "what are you doing here-"

You're cut off by his lips meeting yours in a fiery kiss. He pushes you into the house and shuts the door behind him all while his lips never leave yours. He pushes you against a wall, grabbing at your hips. When his lips move down to your neck, you gasp out his name.

"Sam! What has gotten into you?" you breathe out, "What is this?"

"Mmm..." He moans, leaving little kisses at your ear, "Ginger and Amy are out of town, and... you told me to come over and make love to you."

"That's not how I said it," you laugh, before letting out a soft moan at his actions.

He reaches over and locks your front door before leading you over to the couch. His lips find yours again, then he gently lays you down, positioning himself on top of you. His hands roam your body, as your lips move with his; his tongue enters your mouth and sends chills across your skin.

You pull away from his kiss to look at him in the eyes, "I know we've been seeing each other and doing a lot of kissing, but I don't want to make you a cheater."

"Baby, it's not about cheating. Ginger and I don't wanna be together as it is; I 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 to be with 𝘺𝘰𝘶."

"Sam... are you sure? You can't go back from this."

"(Y/N), I already told you I love you. There's no going back from that." His hand snakes down to the ties on your silky robe, and pulls them loose. With his legs on either side of one of yours, he presses his hardness into your thigh. As he pulls your robe to the side just a few inches, he places soft kisses on your chest.

He pauses and looks up at you through his lashes. You place your hands on his face and shoulder, and he gives you a smile before he pulls your robe open, leaving you naked in front of him, except for the sleeves on your arms.

Sam kisses your lips lightly, then your cheek, then your neck and chest, where he starts leaving heated love bites. He gently squeezes at your breasts, as he teases them with his tongue and teeth. Soon after, he leaves a trail of kisses down your belly, leaving you with a few nips on your hipbone.

He sits up on his knees, taking your body in: your plump thighs, sensual hips, the way your breathing had become heavy, and obviously your naked parts he had always wanted to see. He moves to place himself between your legs, and he pulls one of them up, hooking your ankle on his shoulder and pressing a few kisses to your calf.

"You're beautiful," he tells you before he turns his attention back to your leg.

Sam really made you feel beautiful, but it was nothing in comparison to the way he looks: his dress shirt unbuttoned a little, shiny suit pants, large erection pressed against the fabric and poking at his waistband, his tight leather belt keeping it tame.

You're pulled from your thoughts by the feeling of Sam kissing your inner thigh; he had worked his way up to the soft, sensitive part of your leg.

He grabs you by your thighs, scooting you up the couch, giving him more room to work. Now he's bent over a bit more, placing sloppy kisses and and nibbles on your thighs as a way to get you to spread them apart. Finally, he gets down all the way, and you feel his hot breath on your center.

Seeing him crouched down on his elbows and knees, head between your legs... It's enough to make you want him. When places a few hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your labia, it makes you lose any fight you had to turn him down.

"Oh, Sam..." your hand slides into his hair as his tongue laps at you. He looks up making eye contact with you, and enjoying how flustered you look because of him.

He simply grins to himself and goes back to pleasing you. Your grip on his hair tightens each time he does something that you like, and he's smart: if you like it a lot, he does it over and over and over.

A few times, he moves down, licking at your entrance, testing the waters. When he hears a whine from you, he decides to stop being a tease and presses his tongue in past your lips. Your back arches up off the couch and you take in a deep breath; Sam digs his fingers into your thighs, keeping your hips firmly in place so he can continue swirling his tongue around inside you.

After a few minutes, he has mercy on you and goes back to your clitoris. He doesn't let up too much though. He slides his middle finger into you, slowly, and when he can't go any further, he curls it in a "come here" kind of motion.

"Oh, God," you let out, toes curling in pleasure.

Sam puts his lips on you and pulls your clit into his mouth, sucking on it. Jackpot. Your hand pulls his hair and you throw your head back; you can feel your climax coming. He lets out a low, grumbly moan, and it helps push you over the edge. Your orgasm comes in waves as Sam continues sucking and curling that finger; he's reveling in the feeling of you losing control at his hand.

When he decides you've had enough, he eases his motions to let you down from your high. The way he has total control over you and your body... You had never seen anything like it.

Sam crawls over you until he was face-to-face with you again to kiss you and make you taste yourself on his lips. He wraps his arms around you and picks you up, hands roaming your back as your robe hangs loosely behind you. With your legs wrapped around his hips, he takes you up to your bedroom.

"Can I ask you something, Sam?" you start.

"Of course you can, baby girl," he answers.

"Why would Ginger treat you so badly if you're this good in bed? And we haven't even made it to bed yet," you chuckle at the last part.

"I guess that's more of a question for Ginger than it is for me, but I'd really rather not talk about my wife right now," he says dropping you on your cozy bed. You lay there, arms above your head, your hair and silky robe spread out around you. Sam grabs you by wrapping his large hands around your ribcage and sits you up. It always impressed you how large and strong he is, because he keeps his muscles covered with all those suits. He pushes your robe off your shoulders, "That's better."

You giggle at him and reach out in front of you, giving his aching erection some much needed attention with the palm of your hand. Sam let's out a breath, and you take that as a sign to undo his belt. After opening his belt and unzipping his pants, you pull them down just a little, leaving them hanging on his hips. Your hand finds his member again, rubbing it through a much thinner layer of fabric, "You gonna show me what this thing can do?"

He puts a hand on the back of your head and pulls you to him. Your face nuzzles against his pelvis; you leave a few kisses on his groin and look up at him, "You want me to use my mouth on you?"

His eyes are fixed on yours as his lips pull into a half smile, "No, another time. I can't wait any longer to have you."

And with that, you pulled his pants off of his hips. He quickly works out of his shoes and pants and climbs on top of you.

"Oh, no, Mr. Rothstein! We are not doing this if you have those socks on!" you giggle at him.

He looks back at his feet, "What, you don't think they're sexy?" He turns back to you and kisses you, "I'd fuck you if you were wearing socks," he jokes before reaching back and pulling them off.

When he lays down on top of you, you work on unbuttoning his shirt while he kisses your lips and neck. A few seconds later his shirt is thrown to the floor. He wraps his arms around you as you make out, pressing your bodies together; like this, you can feel his muscles, his warmth, and his love, as if he was the thing you always needed.

His kisses slow down, and he pulls back to look at you, "I love you, (Y/N), and I mean it."

"I love you, too, Sam," you nearly whisper. After a short pause and Sam rubbing your cheek with his thumb, you ask, "Will you take those underwear off already? You're going awfully slow for a man who said he didn't want to wait anymore."

He smiles and shakes his head sarcastically at you, but he sits up on his knees and pushes them off, "Better?" he snarks.

"Better."

He was sexier than you ever could've imagined. He left a lot to the imagination with all his suits, but like this, you got to take in his loving eyes, messed up hair, soft skin, toned arms, and the chest hair that made a lovely trail down to his large member that's standing at attention for you.

"Come here, sexy," you command.

"Who? Me?" he points to himself, jokingly.

You reach up, and grab his hands, pulling him down on top of you again, "Yes, you."

He lets out an excited moan, kicking his underwear to the floor and snaking a hand down between your thighs. As his fingers tease at your clit, he asks, "You ready, baby doll?"

"Very ready."

That's all he needs to hear before he's pulling your legs up to wrap around his waist, slicking up the head of his cock with spit and a little precum. The next moments are filled with moans from the two of you, as he lines up with your wet entrance and begins to enter you. His hips work slowly, giving small motions to sink into you.

You could tell from the way his hips were bucking lightly that he was torn between taking things slow and fucking into you hastily, right then and there. It's the neediest you'd ever seen him; it's sexy the way you make him lose a bit of that control he always has.

As soon as he's got enough length inside you, he starts rocking into you, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. "Baby, you feel so good," he says as he buries a hand in your hair and his face in your neck, kissing you. His breathing becomes more intense, and his back arches a bit allowing for some room for him to work his hand on you again.

As if the feeling of his hardness pushing in and out of you wasn't enough, his fingers start making circles on your clit, drawing moans from your mouth. "Oh, God, those noises... You're gonna drive me crazy," he whispers in your ear before leaving a few bites on your lobe.

He moves so he can kiss you and look at your pretty face while he makes love to you. He's so excellent, pleasing your clitoris while thrusting his hips into you. You lean up to leave a series of kisses and nips on his neck and collarbone; your fingernails leaving scratches on his back and hands tangling his normally perfect hair.

"Oh, fuck..." you hear Sam say as he slows down his movements.

"You okay, honey?" you ask, concerned.

"More than okay, baby, I just got close," he answers, looking almost embarrassed. It's hard to tell if the flush on his cheeks is from answering your question or from pleasure.

"You could've finished if you wanted," you say with a warm smile.

"Oh, no. I'm not done with you yet, princess." He sits up on his knees, snaking his arm around your back and gripping your hips to lift you off the bed. His other hand rests on your pelvis, and his thumb flicks over your clit. He starts rocking you back and forth on his dick, "How about that? You like that?"

Judging by your moans and the way your back arches for him, he got his answer. He picks up his pace until he's fucking into you with quick, hard thrusts, and your thighs clap against his belly. His fingers relentlessly try to please you, and it's working: you're coming apart at the seams once again for him.

When you feel your second orgasm coming on, you can't help but also feel a little surprised... but also so turned on that he made a mess of you, twice.

Feeling your orgasm and feeling you tighten around his hard length, Sam loses himself. His hips buck into you wildly as he cums deep inside you. He sits back on his heels, and pulls you up to straddle his lap. He pumps into you a few more times while he holds you close to him, kissing anywhere his lips can reach.

Your lips meet and you kiss him several times, both of you feeling very satisfied. You comb your fingers through his hair, fixing it a little bit; he seems to like that. His arms are wrapped around you, and he just holds you on his lap like that for a few minutes, kissing your chest.

He lays his head against your shoulder, and let's out a deep breath, "Yeah, I'm in love," he giggles and stares up at you with an innocent, happy look.

"Me too," you say quietly, kissing his head with a bit of a sad look on your face.

"Hey!" he gets you to look down at him, "You okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah... I just wish we could be together, and that it wouldn't be so complicated," you tell Sam.

He lays you down on the bed, pulling out of you, then he lays next to you and holds you in his arms, "Me too, baby, me too. I just feel bad because it's my fault we can't be together like we want to."

"Oh, Sam, you know I don't blame you for that. No one enters into a bad marriage on purpose."

"No, but you were always right about her. I should've listened to you, considering I came to you for advice. She never cared about me."

"Yeah, but you cared about her, and you still do," you say with a warm smile, "she's the mother of your child. You have a big heart, Sam."

You wrap your arms around his neck and hold his head against your chest. "I care about you, too," you hear him mutter.

"I know you do. I care about you, too," you whisper, snuggling into him to drift off to sleep in his arms.

• • •

The sex was amazing, but there's nothing like waking up in the arms of someone you love, at least, that's how you feel this morning. The way Sam clings to you, almost desperately, lets you know that while you may not wake exactly like this every morning, you will wake up loved each morning.

As you begin to stir a bit, Sam's arms squeeze around you, not wanting you to leave your comfortable spooning position. He grumbles to himself a few times before finally cracking his eyes open to tell you, "Good morning, beautiful."

"Good morning," you respond, as he lies there with his eyes closed like he may go back to sleep.

He opens his eyes again, slowly, and you feel his hand gently move the covers off of you. You groan when the cool air hits your skin. "God damn, baby, you look so good," his voice rumbles.

"Mmm... You pushed the blankets off me just to tell me I look good?"

"Well, no..." he starts, and he finishes his statement by kissing your shoulder blade and neck, teasing at your thighs, and feeling your breasts. He presses his hips into your backside, letting you feel his morning wood.

"Oooh, someone's happy!" you giggle, pushing your butt back into him to give him some friction.

"I think you meant horny," he slides a hand down, grabbing at your butt before sliding further down teasing between your legs. He slowly runs his middle finger back and forth along your clit and your entrance, getting you wet for him.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Hm?" He mutters between kisses.

"I love you. I wanted to make sure to say it first for once."

He chuckles and continues what he's doing, "And I love you, and I wanna make sure you know this isn't about sex."

"Well, it's a little hard to believe that when you have a finger inside me, but Sam Rothstein is a man who's good on his word, so I'll believe you...just this once," you look over your shoulder, both of you grinning uncontrollably. You reach back and take his member in your hand, stroking it, "However, for the next few minutes, I'd like to make it about sex."

"Mmm, yes ma'am!" Sam exclaims, attacking your neck with sloppy kisses, and repositioning himself to enter you. You both relax into those feelings of pleasure as his warm cock fills you. He grips your hips loosely and thrusts his hips into you almost lazily, but it feels good.

His hand creeps down and grips your thigh, gently lifting your leg up in the air. You both light up with noises, moans, whines, heavy breathing. Within a few minutes, you hear Sam breathe out, "Baby, baby, I'm gonna cum."

You let out a hum, "Cum for me, sweetheart."

Sam pulls you close to him, moving against you with quick, small pumps. You grab his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, while he holds you tightly. After his orgasm, he slides out of you easily and turns you over to kiss your lips for the first time that morning.

Sam is so needy after sex; he wants to hold you as close as possible and shower you in kisses and affection and sweet words.

"I'm sorry I didn't finish you off, honey," Sam says to you.

"It's okay, sweetie, I'm just glad you felt so good," you hold his head in your hands, nuzzling your nose against his.

He lowers his voice as if someone might hear him, "I'll make up for it in the shower," giving you a little wink.

And he does, because Sam Rothstein is a man who's good on his word.

• • •

Since you and Sam spent that weekend together, you start fucking like bunnies. That is to say: you find time to make love to one another often, especially when Ginger is out of town. You both prefer to do it at your home, but when Sam has Amy, he will sometimes invite you over; you quickly get past sleeping in another woman's bed, because you know Sam's heart belongs to you. Sex for the two of you isn't about getting off; it's one of the many ways you show your feelings for one another.

You both find it very hard to hide your feelings for one another in front of others. You can be so open with one another and your feelings when you're in your little bubble. Despite that, you have to put your feelings aside for The Tangiers charity event tonight. Sam has a lot of big spenders flying in for this event; it's going to bring in a lot of money and a lot of publicity for the casino.

"Hey, baby," you say, sneaking into Sam's office, closing the door quietly.

He's standing by his desk signing a few papers; this is probably the one quiet moment he'll have all night. "Hey, princess," he gives you a cute look, signing a few more papers. You sit in comfortable silence, while you wait for him to finish his work. "Alright," he says, tapping his pen on the final paper, "Bring that sweet ass over here!"

He sits on the edge of his desk and pulls you into a hug, taking in your scent and the way your dress feels against your body. He lets out a relaxed sigh, "I missed you."

It has been few days since you've seen each other. With Ginger being home in preparation for this event, you and Sam decided it was best not to see each other. "I missed you, too," you nuzzle into him.

You feel his hand under your chin, lifting your face so he can kiss you. You kiss slowly at first, letting Sam explore your mouth with his tongue, but things quickly get more heated since it feels like it's been so long since you had each other.

He turns you around, sitting you on his thigh as he leans against his desk. You both crane your necks to keep your lips connected. Sam presses your back against his chest before dipping his hand into your dress, fingers teasing your nipple. You inhale sharply and brace a hand on his hip.

"You like that?" he purrs in your ear.

"Mm-hmm," you hum, leaning your head back against him.

His free hand pulls your dress up and disappears between your thighs, touching you through your panties.

"Sam..." you whine, moving your hand to squeeze at his half-hard length.

"Seems like someone misses me, needy baby," he whipsers to you.

You urge his hands off of you and stand up, facing him, "Now let's get something straight, Mr. Rothstein: I wasn't needy when I came in this office. I patiently waited for you to finish signing things, and then YOU made me needy."

There's a long pause between you before Sam cracks a little smirk and says, "You're sexy when you're mad."

Once you head downstairs to the casino floor, the party is on. Millionaires and billionaires fill the room, enjoying slots, tables, and free champagne. Sam always thought it was funny how rich people love a free handout.

Every business associate that Sam knew was here, plus the rich friends they brought with them. Those of you who spend a lot of time at the casino mingle with the guests who came to spend money; your job is to keep them spending money, because a hefty portion of what the house makes tonight is going to be split between a few charities. It was Billy's idea, saying that a charity event would be great publicity and raise goodwill with the people.

Most of your evening goes by playing table games with people you barely knew, so it's nice to see Billy, a familiar face. You hadn't seen him since you got there.

He hands you a glass of champagne and you find a more secluded place to talk while Billy watches the floor. You see Sam doing the same from his usual spot; Sam sees you and gives you a cute look, scrunching his nose when Billy isn't looking.

Almost on queue, Billy smirks, "So, you and Ace, huh?"

"Huh? What?" you stammer, caught off guard.

"Don't worry, I haven't told anyone. You know my lips are sealed," he has a pleased look on his face, and he gives you a wink.

You sigh and give Billy a knowing look, confirming his suspicions, "How'd you know?"

"Well, I'll admit it took me a while to catch on, because you two have always been close. Sam's been much happier the past few weeks, but I chalked it up to Ginger getting out of his hair with her little vacations. Tonight has been the first dead giveaway: you sneaking up to his office and coming down to the floor together, and the way he's been keeping an eye on you all evening, like he's worried about you getting too far away from him."

If Sam had been watching you like that, you hadn't noticed, but it was endearing. "You should tell him not to blow our cover," you smirk at Billy.

"Oh, I plan on it," Billy leans into you, "Let me tell you a secret, (Y/N). I've always liked you two together, and I think you have always liked one another; maybe you were just too blinded by the Vegas lights to see it... So, I'll keep your secret, because you two deserve to be happy." His hand squeezes your shoulder, and he clinks his glass with yours before leaving you to go stand with Sam so they can watch the floor together.

As you walk the floor looking for a group of tycoons to mingle with, you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn to see Ginger who is now leading you across the casino floor.

"Hey, girl! Wanna work a table together? Maybe if we put our heads together, we could pull in more money." She is oddly pleasant in her tone of voice, but the way her nails grip your arm gives you a different vibe; however, you don't feel you have much choice in the matter. You are swept off to a table far away from the center of the casino, far away from Sam and Billy.

Unexpectedly, Ginger is nice to you and even jokes with you as you hustle all the rich men gathered around the roulette table, getting them to spend all of their money. When that's over, it's like a switch flips.

She drags you aside away from everyone except a few bouncers, and begins her tirade, "It's you. I know it's you." She's doing her best to remain calm with all of the donors around, but you knew she was high; she was always on something anymore.

"Ginger, what are you talking about?"

"You- your perfume! I smell it... in my bed, on Ace! I know you're sleeping with him!"

You can tell she's getting worked up, and you really don't want her to start yelling. "Now, we don't want things to get out of hand. You know I spend a lot of time with Sam; I've been helping him babysit Amy more since you guys have been more separate. Isn't it possible you smell my perfume around him because of that? You probably smell it on Amy too, right?"

Ginger is frustrated and confused, unable to make sense of things with all that junk in her system, "Yeah, yeah, I guess that makes sense," she pouts.

"Yeah, see? It's okay, everything's okay," you try to calm her down, resting your hand on her upper arm.

"No! Don't touch me!!" she shouts.

"Ginger, don't get excited; we don't wanna ruin the event."

"I don't care what you say; I don't trust you, and I don't trust you with my husband!" she sneers at you, "I have my connections just like your 'Saaam,' and if I find out anything is going on with you and him, you'll be nothing more than one of those holes in the desert these guys like to talk so much about. You're nothing but a whore as it is."

Her face is inches from yours. She had insulted you and threatened your life in a single statement, and clearly she had decided Sam was too personal a name for her husband, since she chastised you for calling him that. You decide to do your worst; you doubt she'll remember this interaction anyway.

"This coming from the woman who can't seem to shake her pimp."

Thankfully the bouncers nearby saw how heated things were getting, and they came over to break it up. They even called Nicky over talk Ginger down. It's pretty bad that even the casino staff knew about Nicky and Ginger, and that bringing Ace over would just make it worse.

But word quickly made it back to Sam about what Ginger had done to you, and so a few days later, he sent her to Beverly Hills with Amy; besides, he only needed her home for that one night at the Tangiers.

• • •

Despite all of his efforts to run a clean joint, it all came crashing down when Sam got word that the FBI had heard all about the casino and the Midwest bosses from that grocery store tap back home. Luckily, they couldn't really bring any heat down on Sam, because he didn't know much; he had been put in Las Vegas to run the casino, and he was even working on getting his gaming license which looked good on him.

Nicky, however, did get a lot of heat. He already had the attention of the Las Vegas police for a number of crimes, and he was the liaison between Las Vegas and and the Midwest bosses.

Sam had already been trying to pull away from Nicky and that meant also pulling away from the gangster business that had made him so successful as a handicapper.

Thankfully with Ginger out of town, you got to be with Sam when he found out about all this. There isn't much he can do, but he knows it's a possibility his whole casino could go under.

In order to cheer him up, you invite Sam to your place for a few days, so he can use your home as a getaway to just relax as much as he can. Despite everything going on, you both actually have a pretty good time. Sam only takes the calls he absolutely has to take which mostly meant Billy, and you both enjoy cooking together, showering together, making love together...

Unfortunately he can't stay for more than a few days or people will start to realize he isn't home, and any calls other than to Billy needed to come from Sam's house, especially any calls to Ginger. And so this morning you head off to Sam's place, so he can call the hotel in Beverly Hills to check on his wife and child.

He gets on the phone and cheerily greets the hotel receptionist before asking to be put through to Ginger's room. His tone quickly drops when he questions, "𝘔𝘳. and Mrs. Rothstein?"

You give him a concerned look as he wraps up the conversation and slams the phone down on the hook. He lets out a frustrated sigh and rubs his chin before he says, "She checked out of the hotel with another man and my kid."

"It's not Nicky, is it?" you ask.

"No, it's not Nicky, I know it's not Nicky; he's got too much heat on him to leave Vegas." That could only mean one thing: Lester.

Sam immediately gets back on the phone calling the police, the FBI agents he'd been in contact with, even Nicky, to try to find where Ginger and this pimp had taken his daughter. The FBI is very gracious in helping track down Ginger and Amy, quickly getting back to Sam with an address and phone number for where they are.

After a phone call with Lester that didn't really go anywhere, Sam is feeling helpless about what to do. He's so furious with Ginger, but he needs her to bring their daughter home. He sinks down into the couch when he looks at you desperately; he doesn't know what to do.

You quickly rush over and curl up next to him, taking the man in your arms, rubbing his shoulders for comfort. "How do I get her home? I just want Amy safe; she's not safe with that pimp, and clearly she's not safe with her mother anymore either."

"You're not gonna like to hear this, but I think Nicky is your best bet to get her back," you suggest.

He simply nods his head as he realizes you're right, then he picks up the phone to call his friend.

• • •

The next few days Sam and Ginger are walking on eggshells. It couldn't be more obvious that Ginger doesn't want to be home, but Sam had to know that Amy is safe. Since Ginger has to be home, Sam even tries being sweet to her again. He had tried to cuddle with her a few times, something they hadn't done in years, but she would just reject him each time, typically leaving the room. Sam is at his wits' end; he doesn't know what else to try with Ginger, what other approach he could take.

One night as Sam is about to leave the casino to head home, you follow him out to his car, "just to talk," you tell him. You hadn't seen him in days and you miss him.

"Hey, baby," Sam says wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, honey. I missed you," you smile at him.

He hums, "I miss you too, and I'm sorry you're in the middle of all this... It's not fair to you."

"It's okay, Sam. You're the one who's in a tough spot here. I'm just here to support you and love you and... make you feel better..." you trail off as you squeeze his thigh, your fingers gracing past his crotch.

"Oh..." Sam says, giving you a cheeky look.

You slide your hand back and forth over the front of his pants, getting him hard, while you lightly kiss at his neck and ear. "You've just been so stressed lately, sweetie; let me help you relax."

When his breathing becomes heavy, you know he's ready for more, "Baby girl, I need your mouth on me, now." He lets out a groan when you open his pants and stroke him through his underwear.

You don't waste much time before you're going down on him, kissing his leaking member before taking it in your mouth. He looks down at you and tries to keep his breathing even; all this came on pretty suddenly so you've got Sam very worked up. He takes your hair in his hands, forming a make shift ponytail to keep your hair out your face. He also likes to watch your face bob up and down on his cock.

You hollow out your cheeks and Sam savors that intense sucking feeling. Between that and your tongue pressing against his tip, he can hardly contain himself. You wrap a hand around the base of his member, pumping what you can't take in your mouth.

Sam's hands push you down making you take as much of him as you can, and his breathing becomes labored, letting out little moans as he climaxes in your mouth.

You take down what you can and lick up any of the rest. You look up to see Sam giving you a look with raised eyebrows.

"I didn't want you to make a mess..." you say with a raspy voice as you wipe your lips.

He simply stares at you, as if he was still trying to make sense of what just happened, before he grabs your hair and pulls you into a rough kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. When he pulls away from you breathing heavily, he says, "Baby, you have no idea how bad I needed that. Thank you." He softens up and pulls you back towards him, this time laying your head in the crook of his neck.

Sam leaves you at the Tangiers and at home, walks into a nightmare: his kid is tied to her bed and his wife is nowhere to be found. Despite the flood of panic and anger that he feels, he keeps his wits about him and calls you to come get Amy; with you is the safest place for her right now while Sam searches for Ginger. You only see him for a quick moment, before he rushes out the door, leaving you to pack Amy a bag and take her to your house for a few days.

Sam knows Ginger is at Nicky's new restaurant; he had called before he left the house. His tires screech to a halt as he rolls up to the place of business.

After a run-in with Nicky at the door and a quiet altercation in the corner booth, where Sam definitely threatened Ginger's life for what she did to Amy, Sam managed to get his wife in the car. On the ride home, oddly, all Sam could think was, "Where does Nicky get off asking 𝘮𝘦 to be civil, when he's the one that always gets heat brought on us?"

It's probably just a temporary distraction from elephant in the room, or car, in this case.

Sam has to admit: he's at his wits' end with Ginger. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about leaving her or kicking her out. But when they walk into the house, and he sees the apologetic look in his wife's eyes, whether honest or manipulative, one thought crosses his mind, "She's the mother of my child."

How could he walk out on her? He had promised she'd be taken care of, and even though he really only meant financially, his big heart wouldn't allow him to hurt her.

She doesn't care what he does; she won't be bothered as long as she gets the money she's promised.

"Come on, honey, let's go to bed," Sam says softly, taking his wife's hand. They take a few steps together before the man stops and turns to her; he places his hands on her sides, seeing if she'll hug him. When she does, sadly, it leaves Sam with a shred of hope for their relationship.

• • •

Sam had been exhausted, so he went to bed with the promise that Ginger would meet him there after she gets a shower. However, when Sam wakes up, seeing the time on the clock and the other half of his bed empty; he's immediately filled with suspicion.

At 3:03 A.M., he finds himself sneaking down the hallway--sneaking... in his own house. He shakes his head and quietly shuffles down the hallway towards the living room, where he can hear Ginger's voice moving at a rapid and excited pace.

"I don't care- I don't care!! I want that fucker dead! I want him dead! And that little slut too!! Sleeping in my bed- No! No, I will not calm down... I want a hit on that bitch, that way he can 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵! The same way he hurt me!" Ginger snarls and sobs into the phone.

Sam's heart sank. The thought of losing you--no, he couldn't think about that right now; he simply springs into action, grabbing the phone from Ginger's hands. "Who's this?" he demands to the person on the other end of the line, before slamming the phone down only a second later as Ginger leaps up, practically attacking Sam by pounding her balled up hands against his chest and arms.

"You want me dead, huh? You want me outta the picture?!" his voice booms as she starts to wrestle with him, crying and screaming. "Come with me, come on!" He gets her flailing hands undercontol and drags her down the hallway; Ginger's feet come out from under her, and he just keeps dragging her, both of them yelling at each other.

"I hate you!!! I hate your guts!" Ginger shouts at Sam from where she's laying on the floor of their walk in closet, her face red from crying.

"I know, you evil bitch! What did I ever do to you, huh? I tried to love you and look where it got me..." He slaps a duffle bag down on her lap.

"What's this?" she asks.

He follows it with a pile of clothes, gorgeous, expensive fabrics hitting the floor, "Get your shit, and get out," Sam growls, fire and pain in his eyes.

"You can't kick me out, you can't put me out on the street with no money!!!" She jumps up and starts grabbing expensive clothes.

"Money's all you care about, huh?" he questions, bending down to a shoe box under his clothes; he pulls out all that would fit in his hands, bringing it over to her on the floor. "Is this enough?? You'll probably blow through this in a week!" He dumps the cash in her lap, storming off from her to rip more of her clothes off hangers.

"You can't abandon me!! You told me I'd be taken care of! If you kick me out, I'll go take all my jewelry out the bank!!" she threatens.

He grabs her set of keys, taking her house key off the ring, leaving her with car keys and her bank keys. "And I will not stop you," Sam says, almost calmly.

He knew the key to his millions was still in his desk drawer upstairs, she'd only be leaving with the key to what's hers. He'd been feeling unsure about walking out on her, but Sam made his decision the moment Ginger threatened your life.

• • •

For the next week, you and Sam were waiting for the ball to drop and for Ginger to come storming through that door. But in another way, Sam didn't care; he had you over all the time, even when people came over. He started to put his hands on your waist or even kiss you in front of others. It made you so nervous the first time he kissed you in front of Nicky, but Sam knew what he was doing. Nicky couldn't run to anyone about it, because what Nicky had done was worse in the eyes of the Midwest bosses: sleeping with his best friend's wife, their precious "Golden Jew."

But that isn't the reason Nicky's here right now.

"Ace, they took the bosses in. Arrested every single one of 'em. The FBI knows what's going on, all of it, but they ain't got nothing on me or you, because we don't go in room where they count the money. That doesn't mean they won't question us though."

And boy did they. Sam was already irritated that his name was in the paper every time Nicky went to court for some crime, but now it was coming out that him and Nicky were both being held for questioning for the crime bust in the Midwest.

Nicky pretty much refused to give them anything, but Sam had a reputation with the law and a relationship with the FBI out here. They had helped him get his kid back after all. So, he didn't give them any new information, but he didn't mind confirming certain things they already knew, as long as it didn't incriminate him.

Because of his cooperation, the authorities left Sam alone after a little while. Most of the attention was on Nicky and what his connections were to the Midwest bosses and the casino. Somehow Nicky got himself out of it without getting arrested; Sam had to wonder if it was Nicky's rambling or his threats that did the trick.

Weeks went by, and it was clear that the casino was going down. It wasn't for trying though. Sam fought so hard to keep his precious establishment running, but the place had been riddled with scandals. And even with the bosses facing trial, the powers that be decided to get rid of the whole scam; Sam losing The Tangiers would just be a necessary evil to them.

Sam decided it was a better time than ever to leave the business behind. Besides, he'd never been into crime the way Nicky was; he'd just been pulled into this because he was a money maker.

So as Sam walks out of the casino for the last time, locking the doors to the completely empty building, he lights a cigarette and heads over to his car with only one thing on his mind: going home to you and Amy. Unfortunately, he won't make it home as soon as he would have liked, as his car goes up in flames from a car bomb that must've been rigged while he was inside the casino.

Sam had planned for this kind of thing though, and he had the manufacturers of the vehicle place a special metal plate under the passenger seat, giving him a few valuable seconds to save his life.

You get the call during Sam's ambulance ride to the hospital. At first you're devastated--why would anyone want to hurt your Sam? Before you could find to a conclusion, you quickly snap out of it, getting Amy into the car to get to the hospital.

"Mr. Rothstein-"

"I told you, I don't want-

"Mr. Rothstein, we think it's important that we run this test," the doctor speaks over Sam. Must be an important test for him to interrupt Ace Rothstein.

"I'm fine!" your boyfriend groans, "My arm is burned, but I feel fine."

"But sir, it's possible the adrenaline in your system-"

"Sam Rothstein!" You cut the doctor off, storming in with Amy on your hip.

"Hey, baby!" he holds a hand out towards you.

"Don't you 'baby' me. I know you're not arguing with this doctor, refusing medical advice!! You don't just have yourself to worry about here, you have me and Amy- and I swear to God, Sam Rothstein if you die on me, you'll have more than heaven and hell to worry about! You'll have me to answer to," you finish your rant with a stern look.

His face drops for a moment before a little smirk forms, "You're sexy when you're mad."

Ignoring him, you turn to his doctor, "Run any tests you need to. I'll deal with him." You pat the doctor on his tie.

"Yes, ma'am, Mrs. Rothstein," the doctor says as you walk away, giving them room to do what they need to do.

"Oh, we're not married... yet," Sam explains, scrunching his nose cutely at you.

"Well I'm not gonna be the one to tell her that," the doctor says under his breath.

As they wheel Sam out of the room to take him for some tests, you hear Amy's voice, "Why are you mad at daddy?"

"I'm not mad at daddy," a little chuckle leaves you and you hug the child close to you, "I just love him, and so I had to make him listen to the doctors."

• • •

You pick Sam up just a few days later, perfectly fine, except for some burns on his arm. He sits in the passenger seat of your car with a pile of things from the hospital: his coral pink suit in a plastic bag, burned in a few spots from the bomb, a folder with some information about caring for his burns, a packet full of bandages and prescription ointment, and a large yellow envelope.

"Now, don't be mad," Sam starts.

"What did you do?" you glare at him for a second before turning your eyes back to the road.

"I, uh, got a real estate agent to start looking for new homes for us."

"Sammy, why would I be mad about that? We practically live together already!"

"These homes--they're not in Las Vegas."

"What?!" you practically give him whiplash, pulling the car into a random parking lot. "You wanna leave Las Vegas? Sam, I grew up here..."

He looks down at his lap and back up at you, "I know," it comes out so quietly, "I just don't think we're safe here anymore... I'm not in the business anymore, I'm but afforded the same protections as I used to be. What if they come after you next? Or Amy? Right now, I know enough people that we could get out quietly..."

"Oh, Sam..." You cup his face in your hands, "I'm sorry I reacted like that, I'm scared too, and now I have a kid to worry about. I know she's not mine yet, but if anything happened to Amy-" You have to stop yourself before you cry.

"Here," he says, grabbing the yellow envelope, "I gave some pictures of some houses, and there's one I really like."

Instead of driving your boyfriend home, you sit in the car looking at pictures of beautiful homes, and daydreaming about where how you'll arrange the living room, where you'll put the bed, Amy playing in the backyard.

"Hey, look at this last one," he tells you.

"Is this the one you like?"

"Yeah," his face has a happy, soft smile as he thinks about moving into this house with you; he just knows it's perfect.

"Hmmm... San Diego, huh? 4 bedrooms and a mother-in-law suite. Sam we don't need 4 bedrooms," you look up at him.

He gently places his hand on your belly, "We might."

Your heart just melts... Even if you aren't sure about kids, clearly the thought makes him happy.

"Okay so there's a pool and a lot of grass, maybe we could put a trampoline there..."

• • •

Boxes are scattered all around your new home; you picked the one in San Diego, of course. It's completely perfect.

The movers had dropped off all the big furniture and help you set it up; Sam even got them to help set up Amy's trampoline, and he was so thrilled to surprise her with it. But it will be a few more days before the decorators can come to paint, unpack, and lay out the rest. Nothing but luxury for Sam Rothstein and his "wife."

Right now, Sam is dropping Amy off at the neighbor's house for a play date, so she can get to know the kids in the area. Of course, you two had been sure to meet with this couple first to scope them out, making sure they are safe for Amy to be around.

The plan is to get some unpacking done when your man gets home, but you thought it might be nice to spend some quality alone time together in your new home.

"Honey, I'm home!" Sam chimes at the front door; it makes him so happy to be able to say that. Sam stops at the door to look around for you.

You saunter down the hallway, wearing a black trench coat and bright red high heels, "Hey, sexy!"

"Mmmm," Sam moans, "I think I should be saying that to you. What's this, baby?"

You stop just out of his reach and untie your jacket, holding it open to show off a new set of candy red lacy lingerie, "Just a little..." you turn around and drop the coat to the floor, revealing a big red bow at the top of your ass, "house warming present." You throw him a sultry look over your shoulder before walking into the kitchen, heels clicking loudly on your new porcelain floor.

Sam pulls his jaw up off the floor and quickly follows, watching as you crawl up onto the marble-top kitchen island. He walks over, appreciating your body by rubbing his hands on your sides, eyes roaming the red fabric hugging your frame. You rake your hands through his hair, and pull him into you, landing his face right between your breasts, which he seems very okay with judging by the way he closes his eyes and starts kissing at them. He wraps his arms around your waist, trying to pull you off the counter.

"Oh no, sir, Mr. Rothstein, you're not taking me to that bedroom. If we're gonna break this house in, we're gonna do it my way. What's that thing you like to say?" You look up acting like you're trying to remember, "There are three ways of doing things around here: the right way, the wrong way, and the way that I do it..."

You practically yank him up onto the counter with you, his legs fumbling with the bar stools to help get him up there. Before Sam can even get his bearings straight, you have his back pinned against the marble, your lips taking his in a passionate, sloppy kiss.

Sam pushes you off of him, breathing heavily, "Damn, baby girl, where's this coming from? Not that I'm complaining."

"Well, my sexy, rich sugar daddy just bought me a nice, new house, and I just wanna thank him," you nuzzle into him.

"Sugar daddy, huh? Is that all I am to you?" he gives you a loving look, both of you smiling at his joke.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Moneybags..." You sit up and stretch a leg across his lap straddling him. As you grind your hips back and forth against his hard on, you both let out some light moans and hot sighs. His belt buckle makes some clinking noises as you unhook it before swiftly tugging it from his belt loops and dropping it to the floor.

Zip! You open his pants and pull them down just a few inches so you can return to grinding against his member through a much thinner layer of fabric. When Sam's fingers snake towards his groin so he can further please himself, he's met with a harsh smack on the hand.

"All the pleasure you feel is gonna come from me, got it?" you tell Sam.

He raises his eyebrows, surprised by this change that's overcome you, but down for the ride--literally. The pressure of his hardness against your clit is a great warm up for you, so you keep at it until Sam has a couple of wet spots on his underwear: one from you and one from his pre-cum soaking through.

At that point, you move off of him enough to pull his pants and boxer briefs down to his upper thighs, his erection springing free. You crawl back on top of him, pinning his wrists to the counter just above his head while you kiss him. You pull away, stroking his chin and swiping your thumb across his lips.

"Ready, baby?" you ask, kissing his cheek lightly.

"I- uhhh, yeah," he breathes out.

"Cat got your tongue, silly?" you giggle.

"No, I just, I've never -uh- had a girl top me quite like this," he explains.

"Oh, um, should I stop?" you ask innocently as you grind against his dick again.

"NO- no. I, um... You shouldn't stop."

The way Sam is fumbling through the conversation tells you that he probably likes the treatment he's being given, and so you move your hips against him a few more times before moving your panties to the side and guiding his member to your entrance. Your boyfriend let's out a low groan when he feels that warm wetness surround his sex; you think that's probably his favorite part of making love.

You start by setting a leisurely pace, knowing Sam will want more, but, gosh, the tease is so satisfying too...

"Please, baby," Sam breathes.

"Please what?" you play dumb.

"Go faster... Please, baby." So predictable of him.

"Mmmm, you mean you don't like when I take my time with you?" You speed up juuuust a little bit, but not nearly as much as he would've liked.

"I thought I was in charge in the bedroom," he groans.

"Well, we're not in the bedroom are we?" You lean down to kiss him, pinning his hands down again, next to his shoulders this time. You continue to hold them down while you pick up the pace, leaving Sam feeling a bit helpless as he can't touch you.

You take a little break from all the bouncing to slide back and forth, achieving a new kind of friction. Sam curls his hips up into you, clearly enjoying the sensation.

"Let me touch you, please?" Of course you're going to give in, but not without hearing him beg a little more. No one has this kind of control over Sam "Ace" Rothstein; no one but you. "Babyyy... Please, you know I like to hold you."

He gets nothing but silence in response, oh, and your hips working even faster, which only serves to make him more needy. "(Y/N), please... please, baby, I wanna hold you so bad."

You let go of his wrists and intertwine your first with his for a moment before his hands move to your face to cup your cheek. Afterwards, his palms smooth over your chest and arms; he's looking up at you: your pretty face, soft skin, the way your hair bounces along with your breasts as you ride him.

His hips become less tame the closer he gets to his climax. He's a man who just can't help himself; he likes to be in on the action, even if he isn't on top.

You lean yourself back, placing your palms on the cool countertop, giving him a great angle to attack your g-spot. Sam's hands roam your thighs until you find your rhythm with the changed position, but once he knows he's hitting the right spots, his fingers dive in to stimulate you from the outside as well. One hand pinches and rubs your nipple while the other sets a dangerous speed on your clit.

Despite you trying to have so much control over him, Sam just knows exactly what buttons to push on you, and you're cumming in a matter of seconds. The way it snuck up on you causes you to bend forward as your orgasm pulses through you.

The man beneath you takes advantage of this by pulling you flush to his chest, bracing his feet on the counter top, and railing up into you as fast as he can. You turn into nothing but a noisy mess as he uses your body to get off.

"Fuck, baby, I'm cumming..." Sam finds his release before he even realizes it; he just feels so tangled up and lost in the pleasure of being with you.

A few seconds later, you both find yourselves lying on the kitchen island, completely limp and trying to catch your breath. Sam lazily rolls onto his side, rolling you onto the marble counter beside him. Goosebumps litter your skin as the cold countertop comes in contact with you. You both lay on the counter, staring at each other before you both brsk out into giggles.

"I can't believe you let me fuck you on this thing," you laugh, patting the marble, "and I can't believe you let me fuck you... Like that. I wasn't being too much, was I?"

Sam tucks himself back into his pants, zipping them up and buttoning them before wrapping an arm around your waist. "What? You being a little dominatrix? No, I don't think it was too much," he nuzzles his nose against yours and gives you a few soft kisses. "But," he starts, "the only woman allowed to have me like that is Mrs. Sam Rothstein..."

"Well, uh- that's not me..." you say, a little confused.

"It could be," he says in a low, soft voice, "Whaddya say? You wanna marry me?"

"Sam-" you start to feel overwhelmed for a few reasons: 1. He literally just proposed to you, but 2. "You're still married, Sam. I couldn't be your wife even if I wanted to!" Tears start to form in your eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey, shhh..." he says, pulling you into a cuddle, "You remember when I flew back to Vegas last week to go close the sale on the house there?"

You sniffle and look up at him, "Mm-hmm."

"Well I ran into one of the judges that used to come by the casino all the time, he was a big spender, but we treated him real nice. He told me he had heard everything from his friends on the force, everything about Ginger and the car bombing. We talked for a while, and he told me to stop by his chambers before I left the city," Sam fishes in his pocket for some folded up papers, "and he gave me this."

He hands you the papers to unfold and look at. "Oh... Oh, Sam! He granted you a divorce. Why didn't you tell me??"

"I wanted to surprise you..." He smiles that charming smile.

"Well, I'm certainly surprised," you hug him by nuzzling into his chest, "I didn't even know you were considering this yet."

"I've been considering it for years, honey," he whispers, kissing you on the temple, "ever since I told you I love you."

You both pause to simply take in the other person for a moment: Sam's clothes all disheveled and your still in your lingerie, cuddling on the stone counter.

"You know I think you're perfect, right? If there was just one thing I could change about you, it would be your last name. So, whaddya think, princess? You wanna try Rothstein on for size?"

The tears quickly return to your eyes, "Yeah, yeah- yes!" You grab his face and start kissing him over and over.

He can hardly pull you off of him for all the kisses, not that he wants to. However, when you decide you're done loving on your fiancé, he apologizes, "I'm sorry I don't have a ring for you right now, but ummm," he reaches for his little pinky ring; it's gold and pink to match his outfit for that day, "you can wear this for now." He slips the piece of metal onto your left ring finger; it doesn't fit that well, but you're honored to wear it.

Sam sits up, sliding off the counter. He stands at the edge of the island, pulling you towards him and wrapping your legs around his waist. He cups your head in both his hands and kisses you softly. "Wanna go to 'break in' the bathtub, Mrs. Rothstein?"

[negasonicimagines]

Revelation; Part One

warnings/kinks: a/b/o (if you’re penis-repulsed this isn’t for you), smut (duh), brief daddy kink, even briefer mommy kink, cum-eating, cum-marking, cockwarming? (does it count if it’s a/b/o?), light bloodplay, borderline somniphilia (consensual), poisoning, suicidal ideation, allusions to cheating, mentions of conversion therapy, vague mentions of s*xual ass*ult (it doesn’t actually happen in the story, it’s just referred to a lot due to the nature of this universe)

uh… this is another one of those stories that’s just kinda Heavy, please be careful & don’t continue reading if doing so is unsafe for you. I have a variety of other works that don’t have such intense themes, which you can find on my masterlist!

request (+details): Omegaverse: Alphas Yukio and Ellie with a beta reader, but it turns out that reader is a late-bloomer omega who goes into her first heat unexpectedly. / Omegaverse: The setting could be anywhere. The three of them waking up with reader burning hot, believing to be sick but is actually going into heat. The reader could be by themselves when it happens and her alphas come home to a omega in heat / I can’t get this omegaverse idea out of my head, and I hope you don’t mind me telling you this. Reader being alone and confused when her heat came, her alphas gone on a mission. During the time they were gone, Reader made a nest of her alphas’s clothes out of instinct on their bed. By the time Yukio and Ellie returned, Reader is a hot mess from trying to get off, moaning their names and begging for her alphas to help her for she don’t know why she feels like this and is scared.)

synopsis: After Wade discovers you're dealing with suicidal thoughts, he takes it upon himself to help you out, leading to one disaster after another.

author’s note: thank you so much to the lovely anon who requested this for spending so much time with me & making sure everything was juuuust right! Fun fact: we pined, started dating, and broke up, started dating again, and broke up again all before this was published 🙃 sorry everybody, it’s been a rocky road for the past… forever.

Standing guard after school for a few extra bucks is a pretty sweet deal, you have to admit. You mostly just sit around with a pair of binoculars munching on your snack of choice, using a gun loaded with tranquilizer darts to drop anyone who threatens the safety of the school and its residents. If given permission, or an order to do so, you can use your bow and arrow to really take down your enemies.

You’re pretty lucky in life overall, you also have to admit, with two alpha girlfriends and a variety of friends and acquaintances, not to mention the advantages your mutation gives you.

It makes you feel even more guilty for what you’re really thinking about right now. Not Ellie, not Yukio, not keeping an eye out for threats, nothing but a simple question:

Would it be more efficient to slit your wrists with the point of one of your arrows, or to fling yourself from the top of this turret? Which would hurt worse? You look from the sharp arrow you hold in your hand to the plush grass below, managed by some of the other students.

It’s far cheaper to pay students to maintain the yard and house, not to mention it gives students like you a way of earning the kind of spending money that other students receive from their parents or from jobs in town. Your post would be snatched up in no time if you were to pass.

Speaking of parents.

Your father’s exact words to your mother were “I hate that you use a highschool mistake to keep me trapped with you forever!” the last time you happened to hear them argue. They were no longer invited to parent-teacher conferences after that.

It’s a fine reason for him to be angry, but, unfortunately, you’re the highschool mistake he was talking about. The one he’s always talking about whenever they fight. Maybe if you were gone, he’d finally be free. Maybe you’d finally be free from his resentment. He, fortunately enough, rarely lashes out at you directly; however… There’s always been a distance.

Would he love you more if you were gone? If you saved him from… Well, you? You’ve always wanted him to love you, to look at you with something other than anger or resentment. Would he finally be proud of you, for owning up to every horrible thing you are and have done by paying the ultimate price? Would everyone?

You’re holding the bladed tip of the arrow right against your wrist, almost like a normal person might hold a bracelet to their wrist -- trying it on for size, without really thinking about it.

Suddenly, though, Wade’s here. And he’s definitely thinking about it. He yanks the arrow out of your hand, accidentally snapping the wood that makes up its length.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I- Uh, I don’t know,” you mumble, embarrassed, because you honestly don’t. Being alone with your thoughts gives them the space to grow from their poisoned roots into something dark you don’t really recognize as yours.

“You- You don’t know?!” Wade questions, and the unusual severity of his tone stuns you to the point of laughter. “This isn’t fucking funny, what the hell is wrong with you? Why were you-?! What were you-?! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m standing guard. What the fuck are you doing?” you echo dryly, resorting to quips to avoid telling him any more than he already knows.

“I’m freaking out! I can’t kill you for apparently wanting to kill you, so that’s all I can do! I thought you were on antidepressants!”

“I am. Have been for years. They don’t cure depression, they make it easier to manage.”

“Apparently fucking not! Come on, let’s go talk to somebody and get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. You’ve been on the same prescription all these years, right? Maybe you just need your dosage upped.” Wade’s not asking, he’s telling, his hand wrapped around your bicep to pull you along, although his grip isn’t as tight as you’d expect for a man of his stature, let alone an alpha.

Why does he care so much? He’s always so gentle, even when you piss him off like this. Tears well up in your eyes but you blink hard. You know he’s been through worse. That most people here have. You have no right to cry.

Wade yells at a surprised Charles Xavier until an appointment is set up, which goes pretty well. Four days after that incident, you meet with the psychiatrist who agrees that upping your dosage is the smartest decision, frankly, she’s surprised it wasn’t done sooner. And, after about a week of your new dosage level, you’re feeling better than ever.

Way better.

“You… You’d really wanna do that? For everyone to know I’m yours?”

Ellie nods, cheeks darkened. You’re straddling her, and the two of you have been trading heated kisses with Yukio. Who would’ve thought more of the medication you were sure killed your libido before you could even develop one would be what rescued it?

“Of course we would. I know you don’t like to stereotype, but some of the stereotypes have truth to them. We’re… Territorial,” Yukio reminds you.

“I’m… A beta,” you remind her in a teasing echo of her tone.

“Our beta,” Ellie cuts back in. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Even if I’d rather not let you guys, y’know…” Your hand rubs at the space between your neck and your shoulder - where they’d likely mark you with their teeth - nervously. “...today? Or go farther than what we’re doing right now?”

“Of course, baby! The fact that you’ve even done this much…” Yukio trails off, looking over you. Your lips are swollen and still slightly parted as you continue to pant a little. The top few buttons of your (well, borrowed from Ellie) flannel are undone.

“We’re so grateful, and so proud of you,” Ellie continues, drawing your attention back to her. “We’re willing to wait as long as you need, even if that waiting only ends because you’ve decided that being with us like that isn’t something you want.”

“I do. I always have, I just… I don’t know.”

“The feeling’s still there, in your stomach, right?” Yukio wonders.

“Yeah, a little. It’s like… I know it’s not wrong, but something doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe I should just try to ignore it, I mean, you two have needs-”

“Hey. You know better than that, Y/N. We don’t, okay, babe? Not like that. We wanna have sex with you, not- Not hurt you. You understand that, right?” Ellie reassures you.

“I do, I just feel bad for being such a- I don’t know, a tease?”

“We love you. As in, you. If you forced yourself to do something you didn’t want to, just for us, how would we forgive ourselves?” Yukio says what she’s said a million times, but every time it surprises you. You tend to see yourself as only being valuable in what you can offer others— protection, a laugh, some good advice every now and then —you never expect anyone to care for you outside of that. But here they are. Absolutely perfect.

And you were thinking of flinging yourself off a tower a couple weeks ago. Should you tell them? They just think you went for an overdue checkup, which is technically the case. You don’t know what’s worse, hiding it or telling them. You’ll have to talk to Wade, he’s good at giving advice. Might not be good advice, but he’s definitely good at giving it.

“Everything okay, sharpshooter?” Ellie hands gently squeeze your hips to get your attention.

You blink back out of your thoughts, smiling a little and blushing at the nickname.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, I just zoned out. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Everything okay?” your alphas ask, again, in unison. Your alphas. They probably couldn’t handle it if you had a problem they couldn’t solve, the guilt of not being able to provide for you would overwhelm them.

“Yeah, totally,” you reply, because it is, now, especially here with them. Ellie starts to button up your flannel.

“Oh, we don’t have to-”

Ellie gives you a pointed look, then looks down at her crotch, then back up at you. Your blush deepens.

“Yeah, I’m guessing a cold shower’s in order,” Yukio agrees. “El, you can go first.”

“We can’t go together?” Ellie asks.

“Well, I don’t wanna leave Y/N alone. Our brave little beta did a lot more than usual. Don’t want you to feel used, baby,” Yukio explains to you both.

“Oh, duh,” Ellie agrees. You give her a quick smooch on the forehead before dismounting her and allowing yourself to be pulled into Yukio’s arms. Ellie grabs some clean clothes and heads off. As soon as the door shuts, Yukio giggles, and you look to her with a curious, confused expression.

“Now you’re all mine to cuddle.” Yukio gloats, kissing the top of your head. “Mm… You smell really good, babe. New shampoo?”

“Ish, yeah,” you agree, despite the fact that you started using it nearly a month ago at this point. Maybe the body heat you built up from the makeout session made it smell stronger, though.

Yukio keeps sniffing you, but you don’t call her out on it. She’s a little bit quirky, sure, but there’s no need to make her feel self-conscious about it when the tickling sensation feels kinda nice. She tosses in a few soft presses of her lips against your skin, too, so it’s not like she’s the only one who benefits.

Yukio eventually stops this, though, instead requesting to scent you. You’ve told the girls before that they don’t have to ask, but they— especially Yukio —seem to prefer to. You figure it’s likely to reassure them that you not only tolerate but appreciate their alphahood.

“I love you, you know that? Not just ‘cause you make me smell like petrichor. I’m surprised Ellie doesn’t spend all day huffing your scent, I… I know I would, if I could smell it.” You didn’t mean for the sad envy to ring so clearly in your words, but it’s as sharp as a knife, cutting deep enough to make Yukio gasp softly with sympathy as she rubs your wrist against her scent gland, eyes snapping open.

“Well, next time it’s about to rain, we’ll go outside, then. Every time it’s about to rain,” Yukio insists. “Who- Who told you?”

“Wade. I was just curious. He said Ellie smells like a campfire, the scent even clings like it. He even said I smell a little weird. Most betas smell like something, but I’m just… A blank canvas.”

You feel her rumble a bit with a growl, and her arms wrap tightly around you… Protectively? You blush.

“Y-Yukio?” you nervously ask, caught off guard. Ellie’s usually more of the growling type. Yukio’s pretty good about keeping her possessiveness and any other “negative” alpha traits in check. This side of her doesn’t come out often.

“What was he doing that close to you?” she snarls protectively, and if the growl wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, that was. “Sm- Smelling you?”

“Yukes, Wade’s the same age as my parents. Honestly, he’s- He’s kinda- He’s nice to me. We’re friends. I think if he was going to hurt me, he would’ve done it by now. You two keep forgetting I’m just a beta. No one wants a piece of this pie except for you and Ellie.”

“You’d be surprised at the way some alphas… It’s sick, but they- Because betas, you know, they don’t really produce slick like omegas do, and they don’t have quite as much give, uh… So, some alphas, um, they… Just let me hold you, okay?” Yukio requests. “I can’t talk about it, it’ll make me too mad.”

“I respect that. Thank you. I, uh, I didn’t realize that at all, so thank you for helping me be even safer,” you reassure her. She’s trembling. “Do you want me to hold you, instead?”

“No, no, this will make me feel better. I just… I love you. Can you just…? Just- Just say you’re mine.” This is a request Yukio has semi-often. When she feels weak in comparison to other alphas, when she feels overshadowed by Ellie, any time she needs reassurance or is just feeling bad, she’ll probably ask. You get it, being hers (and Ellie’s, of course) makes you feel better, too.

“I’m yours, Yukio. Always yours. You make me so happy, both of you. Happier than- You make me feel so-“ You get a bit choked up. These girls, these alphas… They’re so important to you.

“Oh, no, baby, please don’t cry,” Yukio implores, watching your eyes water. You turn so that your face doesn’t just rest on her chest but is buried in it.

“It’s just that no one ever loved me before you two. No one, ever. Not my parents, not my ’friends,’ no one. I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional lately, I’m sorry.”

“No one at all?” Yukio questions, but that’s the missing puzzle piece, she realizes. You’re always treating hers and Ellie’s love for you like it’s something you have to earn, no matter how much they insist being yourself is enough. She fully grasps now that it’s never been enough before.

She holds you even tighter.

“Mm-mm,” you confirm, shaking your head a little. “You and Ellie just mean the whole world to me. And- And… Wade’s my friend, too. Can I still, y’know, spend time with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I just- He’s a nice guy, but… I don’t want him to put you in danger. You can handle yourself, though. Can’t you, sharpshooter?” Her fingers trickle up your ribs as she says the nickname, making you giggle and squirm.

“Absolutely, but it is nice to have two strong, sexy alphas take care of me instead every now and then,” you admit, albeit a bit teasingly, blushing softly. You turn back so that you can see her adorable face.

“Really?” Yukio asks, but she knows.

“Really,” you agree with a smile.

“I’m yours, too. You know that, right?” Yukio checks, fiddling with your hair a bit.

“Mhm. It’s nice to hear you say it like that, though.”

“I can think of other ways you might like to hear it,” Yukio flirts.

“Yeah, you think so? Show me,” you tease back.

“I will…” Yukio trails off as she trails her finger along your jaw, tipping your head up to the perfect kissing angle and- “Eventually, little beta.”

“I- I’m taller than you,” you weakly protest.

“Your breath still hitched,” Yukio reminds you with a giggle and a gentle tap on the tip of your nose.

You stutter a little more before giving up, burying your face again and whining.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I just can’t help myself. You’re too cute,” Yukio half-heartedly apologizes, still chuckling to herself as she strokes your back.

Ellie returns from her shower, inky tendrils of hair ruffled around but with no product in.

“She’s asleep?” Ellie asks, sounding a bit disappointed, but there’s still a significant amount of fondness in her tone.

“She’s not,” you mumble back, and both girls chuckle, Yukio untangling herself from you. You can’t help but pout a little, already missing the bubblegum-haired alpha.

“I know Yukio’s your favorite, but you could at least act a little bit happy to see me,” Ellie half-jokes, and you smile, pulling (though she doesn’t give any resistance) the girl back into your bed. She holds you the same way Yukio did, but you don’t really mind the lack of variety.

“You’re both my favorite,” you argue. Ellie takes a deep breath, likely taking in the way you’re completely embraced by Yukio’s scent.

“I don’t think that’s how favorites work,” she chuckles.

“Out of all the people in the world, you two are both my favorite,” you insist. She takes the hand you have resting on her ribcage and holds it inches from her scent gland. “Please,” you say, before she can even ask. Ellie takes a whiff again.

“Did she leave anywhere untouched?” She wonders.

“N-not really,” you stutter, because now you’re thinking of where she didn’t touch you.

“Well, she’ll have to share a little, then,” Ellie says.

You hum with delight as she scents you.

“You make a new friend?” Ellie questions.

“Huh?”

“You smell… Different,” she responds, looking at you… Well, differently. “Like roses.”

“I have a new-ish shampoo?” You offer, but that just seems to intensify the look.

Your phone rings. It’s Wade. You wriggle out of Ellie’s loose hold on you, answering.

“Hey, you know how I’m your academic advisor?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well, apparently, thwarting your suicide attempts isn’t my only job. I also have to tell you when they need you in the office, which is now.”

“Seriously?! I didn’t even throw that pencil at Richard, and even if I did, he deserved it for being such a-“

“Oh, right! Should’ve opened with the good news. Your parents are here to visit.”

“What?! That’s-“ You sigh, not wanting to alarm Ellie any more than you already have. “Okay. I’ll be there. Just give me a second to get dressed.”

“Wow, no shame at all. I salute you. Toodles!” Wade hangs up before you realize he misunderstood you.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asks.

“Nothing, just… My parents are here.”

“Your… Parents?”

“Kind of have to have those to exist, usually,” you remark, and she snorts.

“I know- I- Well, we’ve known each other for a while, and you don’t really talk about them, so I sort of assumed…” Ellie trails off.

“Oh, um, yeah, no, they’re very alive,” you confirm with an awkward chuckle.

“Right. I’ll go get ‘Kio, and we’ll all go, okay?”

“Uh- Um- Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“My parents, they kind of… They- I love you. And I’m not ashamed of you.”

“But they’ll be ashamed of you,” Ellie understands.

“I haven’t seen them in so long, they don’t even know that I like girls, let alone that I’m dating two, or that they’re both alphas… I want you and Yukio to come with me, but, if they start to- If they’re how they are, I-“

“Give my energy to helping you instead of hurting them,” Ellie uses Piotr’s words.

“Perfect,” you agree, and Ellie smiles back, but it falters. You didn’t mean to worry her so much.

“I’ll go get Yukio. You get changed, okay?”

“Mhm,” you agree, and she heads off to the bathroom. You steal one of Ellie’s band tees and an oversized cardigan of Yukio’s for comfort, finding a pair of high-waisted bottoms to tuck the tee shirt in. You throw on a pair of sneakers, and when the girls emerge from the bathroom, you pop in to freshen up.

Once you’re done, Yukio’s caught up on the situation and the three of you make your way to the front offices.

Wade meets you outside.

“Oh em gee, Y/N, you’ll never believe it, I actually went to high school with both of your parents.”

“Uh… Cool?” You respond, because you’re not entirely sure how to.

“Yeah, uh, I get now that it’s probably not really good news that they’re here, huh? No wonder I found you doing that the other day.”

“Doing what?” Yukio and Ellie ask, though for some reason, Ellie’s is tinged with suspicion, maybe even anger.

“I- Listen, it’s not a big deal, I got my prescription updated and all that good stuff, okay?” You prime them. “I was thinking about killing myself the other day and Wade caught me.”

“Thinking?! You’re gonna call holding the fucking tip of an arrow to your wrist thinking?!”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ellie sounds as angry as Wade does, but she looks pained. This is why you didn’t tell them.

“Hey, she doesn’t need this right now,” Yukio argues, but she looks hurt, too.

“I mean, I was just considering if it would be more painful than jumping off of the turret,” you mumble, your defense embarrassingly weak.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ellie decides, and Yukio nods. You three follow Wade to Xavier’s office. Wade breezes in, but you’re practically stuck in the doorway, nervous to look at even the backs of their heads, before they turn around.

“Y/N,” your mom says with a grin, but you know all too well how fake that is. She approaches you, pulls you into a hug, and you want nothing more than to push her away and scrub yourself clean. She doesn’t really love you. The second you speak out of turn, or make a mistake, or give her any excuse, she’ll remind you of your worth. (Or, rather, the lack thereof.)

She slips back into her seat next to your father, in front of the desk where Xavier sits, simply observing.

“It’s been so long,” your father says, but his smile is almost blatantly fake. “Your hair, it’s different.”

“Like you said, it’s been a while,” you say, giving a grimace and an awkward chuckle.

“I don’t think I like it,” he says, like he’s giving his opinion on a sculpture in an art exhibit by some long-dead artist who doesn’t care what he thinks. Like it’s something just… Objective.

“Not sure what to do about that,” you reply sheepishly.

You don’t fully realize that you’re holding Ellie’s hand until she squeezes it reassuringly, three times. A secret code. You step further in to make room for the girls.

“So, uh, I have to ask… Why the sudden visit?”

“Well, we got an e-mail about your medicine, and we wanted to come check on you. Make sure this is the right environment for you,” your mother explains.

“You weren’t sure before you stopped talking to me for two years?” You half-joke, playing dumb.

“Has it really been two years?” A normal person would be asking this rhetorically, and they’d be embarrassed. Your mother, though, is simply trying to gaslight you.

“Longer,” you assure her.

“I thought this place was supposed to provide conversion therapy,” your father says, eyeing your hand, then Ellie’s other hand. “You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses to your mother.

“Wow, maybe my mom dying when I was young was for the best. Better than this for sure,” Wade jokes, gently elbowing your side. You chuckle, grateful for even the slightest ounce of comic relief.

“You’re even more of a freak than you were in high school.” You squeeze Ellie’s hand tight as your father’s expression darkens even further.

“Funny you should say that, considering-“

“Wade,” your mother cuts him off.

That’s weird, to say the least. You just file that away for later. You have bigger fish to fry, like surviving this visit.

“Y/N, why’d you go for a check-up at all? You barely needed the anti-depressants in the first place,” your mother wonders.

“Because it wasn’t barely. Why else would they raise the dosage?” You ask, and the expression on her face is as stupid as the question she asked.

“Don’t speak to her that way,” your father scolds, like he didn’t just call your mother a fucking liar himself. “You are so ungrateful for everything we’ve done for you, do you realize that?”

“I’m sorry, what have you done for her, exactly? Answer quickly, please,” Ellie retorts.

“El-“ you start, but realize this isn’t anger, but advocacy.

“Well, we sheltered and fed her for over a decade,” your father remarks, smirking like he’s won.

“That’s your job!” Wade argues.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/N… I politely asked that you refrain from visiting the campus, and while I appreciate your concern for Y/N’s well-being, I must ask that you remain respectful of her, her fellow students, and my staff. Causing unnecessary conflict is exactly the reason you were almost banned when you last visited,” Professor Xavier finally speaks.

“Almost banned?!” Wade wheezes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and Wade’s laughter immediately ceases. “I was cheating in school, according to- To Dad.” The word is poison in your mouth.

“Come on, we all know you’re not smart enough to get those grades on your own. Probably screwing some teacher, just like Mom.”

“That’s enough,” Ellie snarls, eyes glowing orange.

“I never screwed a teacher!” Your mother protests at the same time.

“Oh, that’s right, you just blew Mr. Morin. My bad. Wow, Y/N, you really must be something special for all these alphas to be fawning over you. Maybe I did fuck up once or twice, after all, I’ve heard daddy issues-“

“Well, you visited! Now get the fuck out,” Wade chirps.

“Mr. L/N, must I repeat myself? I know you and Mrs. L/N were interested in a tour. Perhaps a less crowded area would help ease your minds,” Xavier reminds you all of his presence once more.

“That sounds like a great idea,” your father agrees.

“I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, maybe you could show us your room first and I could lie down for a bit in there?”

“I-“ You look to the girls, not wanting them to have to deal with her alone.

“Actually, Miss Phimister and Miss Kitsuna would be perfect additions to a rescue team. The orphanage your friend Russell came from was actually part of a network for mutant trafficking, and we found another hub in Maine. The jet takes off in fifteen minutes, and you two will be back in time for dinner. Better get ready and briefed.”

“But-“ Yukio starts, looking to you.

“Go, be superheroes,” you tell them, and they head out. “Uh, how about we swing by the library first, to give them time to change, and then to our room?”

“You share a room with them? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“We were roommates before we started dating,” you correct him.

“Dating… Aw, I bet you really think that’s what it is, too. Having parents in a sham of a marriage really did a number on you, huh?” Your father condescends.

“You know, it’s pretty fucked up how fixated you are on her sexuality. Do you like to picture it, you goddamn creep?” Wade defends you, and your skin crawls. You’d never thought of it that way before.

“Let’s just get that tour started, ‘kay?” You squeak. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner they’ll be on their way, hopefully.

“Good idea, Y/N,” Wade says. “Come on, Textbook, let’s go.”

“You didn’t just call me-“

“Oh, but I did, Textbook. Hey, Y/N, did you know that was your dad’s nickname in highschool? ‘Cause he was so fuckin’ easy to shove in a locker.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh and failing.

“Just show us the library already, Y/N,” your mother says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You take your parents to the library, as requested. Wade keeps pace with you while your parents fall back. You can’t hear their exact words, but you know your parents are bickering.

“You never said it was this bad.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s definitely been worse,” you admit, busying your eyes with the paintings that line the walls so that you don’t have to meet Wade’s gaze. You might just cry if you do; you can feel the sympathy radiating off of him.

In these past few months, Wade’s been more of a father than your dad, even more of a mother than your mom, but for some reason that doesn’t make you feel more justified in how you feel about your parents. In fact, it just makes you feel worse, and even if you’ve never actually expressed it, you’re still ashamed of the fact that you wish Wade was your father instead. He actually cares, while your parents are simply legally obligated.

From the day you met, Wade’s always been there for you. If you were to tell your parents what you almost did the other day, they’d just call you attention-seeking and insult you in other ways. All they’d do is make you want to try again.

You and Wade stop at the entrance to the library and wait for your parents to catch up. They do, and you open the double doors to reveal the room.

“It’s like Beauty and the Beast,” your mother gapes.

“I thought so, too,” you agree, attempting a smile, but your parents just ignore you, wandering around the large room. Your mother excuses herself after a few minutes of spinning, saying that the dizziness is making her headache worse.

“All these books and you’re still… The way you are,” your father comments, looking at you with such disdain.

“Winner of the science fair with her loving partners, three years in a row?” Wade questions. “Oh, or maybe you’re talking about the fact that she’s a published poet. How embarrassing for you, I’m sure.”

“Wade,” you protest under your breath, embarrassed. They don’t even know that stuff. After middle school, you stopped telling them about your accomplishments. You figured out that all they’d do is ruin them for you.

“No, no, trust me. It’s more about the fact that she’s slutting around with alphas and won’t even save us the embarrassment of them being girls,” you father spats.

“That’s enough,” Wade snarls.

“Oh, that’s right, we can’t forget that she’s yours, too. I guess anything with a dick is daddy considering I was too busy putting food on the table to play dollies,” he remarks, and you suddenly feel light-headed.

“Seriously, Textbook, I really don’t want to hurt you, especially not in front of Y/N, but I fucking will if you make me.”

“Just go,” you urge Wade, starting to feel a bit dizzy, surely from the stress. You brace yourself on him, disguising it as a touch meant to comfort him. He looks concerned as the edges of your vision start to darken a little.“I- What you’re doing, I appreciate it, but-“

“You appreciate it? You appreciate him disrespecting me, disrespecting our family?!”

“Our family?!” You finally snap. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and you couldn’t do that. You just couldn’t. And now we’re a family?! No. No, you…” You start to pant, your face feeling even hotter than before. “You… I hate you,” you manage to get out before your world goes completely dark.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N! I’m so prou-“

But when Wade turns to you, you’re halfway to the ground. He catches you, though, and he catches a whiff of something… Familiar.

Lavender. It’s not just the Wilson scent, sure, but it’d be too much of a coincidence. You smell just like him. You are him, or, rather, made of him.

He’s torn between ecstatic and furious.

“Hey, can we get some help over here?” your father calls out to no one. It’s not a school day, and lots of students are out on missions. He reaches out to you for once in your life, but Wade’s now sitting on the floor, cradling you in his arms.

“No,” Wade argues. “Not yours. Mine.”

“What?” You father asks incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She’s. Not. Yours,” Wade repeats, and the more he inhales your scent, the more out of control yet calm he feels. Like he’s in the eye of a hurricane. “My baby. Mine.”

“You’re not saying…” your father trails off as Wade gets up, still cradling you. Wade has to take you to your room; help make you a nest, now. He can smell it on you.

You’re in heat.

He gets to your room quickly, practically tossing you onto your bed. Wait… Isn’t your mom supposed to be here?

And that’s when he hears the sound of pills spilling onto the floor.

He nearly rips the bathroom door off of its hinges. Luckily, your mother spilled what Wade quickly realizes is suppressants, and not your prescription.

“You. You could’ve killed her. You are very, very lucky that my baby-“

“Our baby,” your mother corrects.

“No, you take pills, you can’t even smell her, let alone feel her like I can. It- It’s so much it fucking hurts. I’ll say it again, you’re very lucky my baby is in heat, or your arteries would be emptying in that shower. Now, go. Don’t come back.”

You groan in pain, stirring, and your mother takes Wade’s advice. Wade calls Yukio. Then Ellie. Then Yukio. Then Ellie.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“You need to turn around. Now. I don’t have the time to explain. It’s Y/N.”

“Is she okay?” Ellie, always skeptical, asks.

“Obviously fucking not, or I wouldn’t be calling. She’s in heat.”

“But-“

“I said that I don’t have time to explain, fucking turn around! I’m on the verge of going fucking feral, Ellie. You both need to get here, now.”

“Wade, get out,” Ellie immediately demands.

“I can’t,” he admits.

“Get out! Shit, Wolverine! We need to turn around!”

“I can’t. It’s not like that I swear, it’s… I’m going fucking crazy, just one of you will do, but someone needs to get here.”

“Wade, go.”

“I would never hurt her! Come home!” Wade barks before hanging up. He returns to your room to find you’ve made a nest instinctively - thank goodness for Yukio’s affinity for pillows and blankets - and now you’re curled up in pain in the center of it.

“Wade,” you whimper. He’s scared to step closer, not sure if he’s what you want, even if you despise who you thought was your father. “What’s happening to me? Everything hurts.”

“I really don’t know how to say this, but… You’re in heat.”

“But I’m a beta,” you argue, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s what we all thought. But… Remember how you didn’t smell like anything before? Uh, let me start over. When did you start on your anti-depressants?”

“I was about twelve,” you confirm, not sure what that means.

“Yeah, I think those were suppressants. That it’s always been suppressants, no matter what the bottles said. Until you got a prescription without your mother knowing. Do you understand why your mother would do that?”

You shake your head, and he approaches the bed, sitting down carefully as not to disturb your work.

“Her boyfriend around the time she got pregnant with you was a beta. We know him as Textbook,” Wade teases, before continuing: “But, what no one realizes is that he was at Niagara Falls on spring break around the time when you were conceived, and she was hanging out with her next-door neighbor the whole time. Her next-door neighbor was me.”

“Oh, so I’m your highschool mistake,” you say, connecting the dots.

“Huh?”

“Ha, well, whenever my parents- Well, I guess not my parents, but that’s beside the point, uh, whenever they argue and it gets really bad, my father- Well, not my father, but, uh-“

“Continue,” Wade urges.

“Basically, sometimes he uses ‘a mistake I made in highschool’ as code for ‘Y/N,’” you explain. “But the truth is, I’m the mistake you made in highschool.”

“You’re not a mistake,” he disagrees. “You’re- You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Lots of things are made by accident, but that doesn’t make them mistakes! Penicillin, potato chips, Post-It notes, popsicles! They were never supposed to exist but they do and the world is much better off with them in it.”

“You really do have a lot of useless knowledge,” you realize.

“So do you, that’s why our team always wins trivia night.” Wade slips off his boots, joining you in your rearranged bed. “C’mere,” he suggests, guiding your head to his neck.

“S’really you,” you mumble, already weary, and Wade worries for what’s to come. He almost doesn’t even want to let the girls in. He could get you pain medicine, he could probably even find sedatives. Then no one would ever be able to even touch you, let alone hurt you. “Lavender. You never mentioned the lavender, just the sandalwood.”

“I didn't think you’d be impressed,” Wade admits.

“It’s relaxing,” you tell him. “It’s nice to have things in common with someone.”

“You smell like roses, too, not just lavender,” he makes sure you know.

“Yeah, but I think that’s mostly concentrated in an area I’d rather not discuss with you.”

“Well, just make sure that if you do decide to do anything more with them than cuddle, which I can gladly go through the rest of my life without knowing, bee-tee-dubs, that the girls are wearing alpha condoms, especially if one of them knots you. Standard condoms work in a pinch if it’s just for one, y’know, go, but for heats they’re basically useless because of everything I just said. If they hurt you, I will make their deaths look like accidents.”

“S’not like I can get pregnant anyway…” You mumble, embarrassed. “I’m- I’m really glad it’s you. I- I wished so many times that it was you instead of him. Ow, ugh, that one was bad,” you groan, massaging your stomach.

Meanwhile, on the jet, Ellie is furious with herself.

“Yukio, you don’t get it, I smelled her. She smelled like an omega, but I thought- I assumed she was cheating on us. That maybe she didn’t want to be with us like that was because she wanted to- I don’t know, to be on top? It seems so stupid now.”

“Hey, I noticed she smelled different, too. There were other signs we both missed, anyways. Think about how emotional she’s been lately, or how much farther we’ve been going in other ways. How clingy she’s been, too.”

“I guess I didn’t really notice it because I liked her being more open and needing us more,” Ellie admits. “She- She almost fucking killed herself. And I thought cheating was what she was hiding. I- I just-“

“You can’t beat yourself up over it,” Yukio insists. “We’re on our way back, and Wade’s there to protect her.”

Speaking of Wade being there to protect you, he continues to comfort you as the pain gets worse.

“S’too hot,” you complain, and he releases you from his hold, rising from the bed. He knows he’ll have to leave you soon, because you’re likely going to need privacy before the girls get home, but it’s hard to part from you knowing you’re in pain.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay? And after that, I’m just gonna stand guard outside the door until your girls get here. I know there’s some stuff you need to do, and that’s only gonna get worse.”

“It’s already awful,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Good luck, kid. I love you.”

Wade gets a case of bottled water from the school’s industrial-sized pantry, bringing it to your room and tearing it open for you before leaving once more. You take one, immediately guzzling it down.

In privacy, you take off Yukio’s cardigan and your bottoms, leaving you in Ellie’s tee shirt and your underwear. You decide to go ahead and free yourself from the constriction that is your bra, feeling a bit embarrassed that you’re not leaving much to the girls’ imagination for your first time together. You eventually decide to undress completely, wondering when the hell your girls are gonna get here.

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Veritaserum

*Not my Gif*

Word Count: 2.3K

~Master~

~Harry Potter Master~

*Requests are closed*

Fred and George were sat on the couch in the common room, working on their newest plans for a prank as you showed up with a frown on your face. Fred’s head immediately picked up when you entered, nudging George as you stomped over to them and sat yourself between the twins.

The boys didn’t say anything as they shared confused looks. Fred cleared his throat. “Is something the matter, Y/N?”

You glared at him before groaning and laying across their laps, putting your head in Fred’s lap and your feet on George. “If I say no, will the problem solve itself?” You asked and Fred snorted, George shaking his head as he pushed your feet off him. Fred helped you sit up again as you sighed.

“What happened?” George asked again as you groaned, not wanting to talk about why you were upset.

The reason was simple. You liked Fred. You really liked Fred. That wouldn’t have been a problem if he wasn’t your best friend, or if he hadn’t taken Angelina to the Yule Ball just a few weeks ago. That’s why you were upset right now, you had heard the girl herself talking about her date that night. It wasn’t her fault; she was in a group and apparently, they wanted to relive the “magic” they felt that night as if they weren’t currently attending a school where they had literal magic at their fingertips. You knew Fred only went with Angelina as friends, but it still made you jealous to listen to her talk about dancing with him and the way he kissed her cheek.

“I’m going to grow old alone, aren’t I?” you asked them, letting your head fall into your hands. Fred’s brows pulled together as he put a hand on your back, instantly comforting you. George looked at him, giving him an I-don’t-know-what-to-do look before Fred rolled his eyes.

“Aw, don’t worry Y/N, we won’t let you grow old alone.” Fred promised you.

You turned your head so you could see his face as he smiled. “Promise?”

“Yeah! I’ll marry you!” He shouted and beamed. Your breathing stopped as you realized what he just said. “Reckon I’d be a damn good husband, too.” You could finally let out a breath as you figured Fred was just being himself, trying to ease this situation with a joke.

You rolled your eyes, shoving Fred’s arm off you as he snickered and you hid your smile. “Oh, yeah sure you will, dung brain.”

Fred feigned offense, placing his hand on his chest. “Excuse you, don’t talk about your future husband like that.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before turning your body to face George. “Georgie, you’d marry me, right?”

George didn’t say anything as he wore an amused look, glancing right over your shoulder to Fred’s mouth hung wide open. “Y/N!” Fred shouted as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you away from his brother. “Stay away from my wife, George.” He faked threatened and you felt your cheeks heat up. Fred was definitely not helping your situation.

You tapped Fred’s arms, feeling him release you as you stood up, really needing to get out of this situation before your feelings went haywire. “Well, thank you for making me feel better.” You said and looked between the brothers. Fred gave you a genuine smile but George was smirking at you, making you a little nervous. “I’m gonna go see if Hermione will help me with my essay writing.” You pointed over your shoulder to the exit and said goodbye before leaving the boys, Fred’s eyes following you until you disappeared. When he looked back at George, he saw the grin his twin wore.

“Someone has a crush.” George taunted him, but Fred rolled his eyes.

“I don’t have a crush on Y/N.” He defended.

“Never said you did. No, I was talking about Y/N having a crush on me.” Fred’s eyes widened and he choked on the air he was trying to get down. George couldn’t help but laugh at his brother’s predicament. “You sure you don’t have a crush on her, Freddie?”

Fred didn’t say anything as George went back to work. He could help to try and figure what George was talking about.

Someone has a crush…

Most likely you, but on who?

Him?

Nah, only in his dreams.

---

George was tired of you and Fred. Fred was his brother; George always knew who Fred had crushes on and his brother’s crush on you was no different.

He had a plan to get Fred to admit it.

He heard Snape had recently brewed a batch of Veritaserum, or a truth potion, despite it being forbidden. If he could find a way to slip it into Fred’s drink then he could get Fred to admit it. He managed to sneak into Snape’s cabinet while Snape was out and Fred was with you heading to dinner. Taking out an empty potion vial he had, he poured just a little of the clear liquid into it, just enough for what he needed and for Snape not to notice it was missing.

---

You sat across from Fred in the Great hall talking over dinner. It was nice to get the chance to be with Fred without George there. You loved George, but it was Fred you had feelings for. You were right in the middle of making fun of Fred for spilling his pumpkin juice all over his robes.

Looking down the table, his eyes landed on the pitcher next to Lee. “Lee! Pass the pumpkin juice?” He asked his friend. Lee nodded, picking up the pitcher only for it to be empty. Fred frowned, looking for the next one but it was nowhere to be seen.

You picked up your cup, putting it between you and Fred. “Here Freddie, we can share.”

He offered you a smile before taking a sip. “Thanks. Think I like this better when it’s not on my clothes.” You rolled your eyes at your friends’ humor before George arrived, sitting next to Fred as he put the cup down back on the table.

“Where were you?” You asked George who looked a little out of breath.

“Went for run, my dear Y/N.” He was smiling, that little smile he did when he was up to something but you had no clue what. You ignored the feeling, your conversation moving on to include George. You were talking for only a few moments before your attention was called to the end of your table, some of your friends having fun as you and Fred got distracted, interested in the arm wrestling happening between Lee and Angelina.

When your attentions were turned from George, he made his move. He opened the vial and held it over the cup he saw Fred drink from, letting 3 clear drops fall into the juice before George hid it in his robes right in time for you and Fred to turn around.

Fred eyed his brother, having caught the last seconds of his scrambling. “What are you up to?” Fred asked as George shrugged and started to eat his food again. He waited for Fred to take a drink, watching his twin eat his chicken without any knowledge of what was sitting in his drink.

George’s eyes glanced down to his brother’s robe to see his stain. “What’s that?” George asked, nodding down to Fred’s torso.

Fred pulled his robe forward, scowling at the stain that’s only soaking into his clothes. “I spilt pumpkin juice on myself before you showed up. There’s none more so that’s why Y/N and I are sharing.”

George nodded, barely listening before his eyes widened. “Sharing?” He gasped out. He looked up to you and his stomach fell seeing at that moment you were currently taking a sip of the spelled juice. “Oh no.”

You put the cup down and swallowed the rather large sip you had just taken. George’s eyes were on yours as you begun to worry. “What? George what did you do?”

George didn’t answer you, instead he leaned over to his brother and whispered in his ear. “I put Veritaserum in the juice.” George admitted right away.

Fred scrunched up his face. “Veritaserum?” He repeated, taking a bite of his food and trying to remember where he learned it. When he figured it out, he dropped his fork on the table. “Veritaserum?! You put a truth potion into her drink?” he whispered harshly to George so you couldn’t hear.

George shrugged. “It was meant for you.” Fred’s mouth dropped open as George focused on you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. What did you do?” you asked again, seeing Fred look at you with a worry he hadn’t seen since you broke your leg playing quidditch.

“Well, this wasn’t how I wanted this to happen, but it works.” George mumbled under his breath. He needed to know if this potion was working. “Y/N? Do you remember last week when I asked if you wanted to practice some quidditch with Freddie and me and you said you promised Angelina you’d spend the day with her?” You nodded your head, unsure what he was getting at. “What was the real reason you wouldn’t practice?”

“I wanted to steal your potions homework.” Your hand slapped over your mouth, shocked you had just said that. It wasn’t a big deal you stole their homework, but you wouldn’t tell them. You pulled your hand from your mouth. “What in the name of Merlin did you do to me?” you growled at him, slamming your hand down on the table.

George laughed, clapping his hands together as Fred shook his head in disbelief. Deciding not to waste another second, George got to work.

“Y/N, do you have a crush on anyone?” He asked. Your eyes pleaded with him as you slapped a hand over your mouth. You looked to Fred, who while displeased with the situation, couldn’t stop himself from wanting to know. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t fight it.”

“Yes, I do.” You couldn’t fight it. It was like your words were tumbling from your mouth without any regard to your brain.

George smiled. “Who?”

You shook your head, biting your lips together in hopes you didn’t have to say anything. “Fred.” You blurted out, letting your eyes close before you could see Fred’s eyes widen. He absolutely hated doing this, but he couldn’t stop it. It was like he was frozen in his seat.

“How long?”

“Since 3rd year. When we spent the whole night talking in the common room.” You tried to block out your emotions, knowing George wouldn’t give up.

“Were you ever planning on telling him?”

“No.” Fred’s heart broke looking at you clutching your head, your eyes closed as his brother wouldn’t give up. He remembered that night very well, that was the night he starting liking you in a more than friend way too. He didn’t expect it to hurt so much to know you wouldn’t have had any plans to tell him.

Fred snapped out of his trance, grabbing a hold of his brother. “George, stop-“

“Why weren’t you going to tell him? Wouldn’t you’ve like to know if he felt the same way?”

Your eyes finally opened and the boys could see the tears that were beginning to fall. “I know he doesn’t feel the same way because he took Angelina to the dance instead of asking me even as a friend date! I wasn’t going to tell him because I knew he couldn’t love me the same because I’m in love with him!” You clapped your hand over your mouth again, feeling a sob wrack through your body as you stood up from the table and rushed out of the room.

You finally stopped running as you reached your bed, falling on top as you let out another cry. You knew you shouldn’t have been crying, but you were embarrassed. You just spilled your secret crush out right to the boy. Why did you have to feel this way? Why did you have to say those things? Why did George make you drink that stupid potion?

Your door opened swiftly, your head turning slightly before you saw Fred standing in the doorway. “Go away! I don’t want to talk to you!”

Fred knew you were telling the truth, the potion still taking effect but luckily for him, it was working for him as well. “I drank the potion before I left.” He admitted, falling by your side on the bed as you sat up. He wiped away your tears as you sniffled.

“Why would you do that?”

“So, you would know the truth.” He grabbed your hand, ready to hold nothing back. “George put the potion in what he thought was my drink. He wanted me to tell you the truth, not the other way around. That night in the common room was it for me as well. I didn’t want the sun to rise the next morning because I wanted to spend forever talking to you. I wanted to ask you to the yule ball, I did, but I didn’t want you to have rejected me and have things be awkward between us because I couldn’t have that. I’m actually thankful my twat of a brother gave you the potion because I wouldn’t have had the courage to tell you otherwise.” He took a deep breath as he finished, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “I want to grow old with you Y/N, and one day I want to marry you and be your husband.”

“I reckon you’d be a damn good one.” Your voice was quiet as you repeated his words from earlier and Fred and you chuckled. He said everything you hoped he would say, well, except for one thing. “And about that last thing I said?” you whispered, feeling Fred squeeze your hand before leaning into you.

His lips hovered nicely over your own, both your eyes were closed. “I’m in love with you, too.” He whispered before sealing his secret with a kiss.

A/N: Okay! Thoughts! and yes I think it’s illegal for the kids to get Veritaserum? but i couldn’t get this out of my head so oh well. 

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @nathaliabakes @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash @emcchi @rauwz @herondalescecilys @chewymoustachio @smilexcaptainx @faith-quake @clarkesplaylist @johnmurphyisbisexual

Harry Potter: @accio-rogers @songforhema @hahaboop @paigeyisme @missmulti​ @daddyloonglegss @ellie-emb @angelinathebook @marauderswhisperer @emmaloo21 @obsessedwithrandomthings @jackryanplz @dreamer821 @alexmarie29 @grierpilots

Twins: @seppys-return-to-madness @siriuslysirius1107 @wolfiepirate @coffee-wihtout-caffeine​ @rexorangecouny 

Fred: @spideyboipete​ @themusingsofmany​

[k-llama-llama]

Need You

BTS AU: 8th member

Sumi x BTS

Sometimes Jungkook does need a big sister to step in

A/N: sorry this is so late! Check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive content. This post was available a month ago for those on my patreon.

Requests are OPEN.Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“What the hell is going on?” Sumi asked, coming to stand next to Hobi.

He just shrugged, pointing at the monitor. “I don’t know. The staff have been off all day and they’re screwing up Jungkook’s rehearsal now.”

Sumi studied the monitor. It was their run-through for their online concert tomorrow, and they were supposed to working through all of the kinks so that it would run perfectly. However, the staff had been all over the place. The sound was off, they were playing the wrong tracks at times, the lighting wasn’t working and they kept having to reset, and altogether they didn’t seem to have any idea what they were doing.

Sumi’s own solo rehearsal had been interrupted as the camera crew had to keep resetting to figure out their path for following her on stage. Normally she would have expressed her concern about it, but she knew that Namjoon had been speaking to their managers all day. This was their first concert in far too long, so she decided to just let the kinks work themselves out.

Jungkook’s solo stage involved some intense choreography, and it looked like he was dealing with a few distinct problems. The first was the same as Sumi’s issue from earlier: the camera crew getting way too close during the dance, stepping into the path of the choreography and just generally getting in the way.

The second had to do with the floor. The changing sets had to be built to be set up and broken down very quickly, and Jungkook’s involved a mirrored floor. However, it didn’t look like it was well secured to the stage and was shifting beneath him, throwing his moves off balance.

“What is wrong with them?” Sumi shook her head. “Is this a new crew?”

Hobi pursed his lips and nodded. “The tech crew is. Supposedly they’re more qualified for this whole online format.”

Sumi snorted. “Sure they are.”

Jungkook’s set finished, and he walked right over the stage director, an angry look in his eye.

“Where’s Joon?” Sumi asked.

“Makeup, I think.”

Sumi sighed. “Then I guess that’s on me.”

She walked out from back stage, heading towards where Jungkook was being mopped off by a staff member as he exchanged heated words with the stage director, who was gesturing angrily around him.

She was back on friendly terms with Jungkook, but there was absolutely still a wall between them that hadn’t been there before. She’d done her best to avoid any situations that involved confrontation, emotion, or anything else that could cause another argument. To be completely honest, even though they’d mostly worked through it, she still didn’t know where she stood with him. It was hard to throw away so many years of her constantly being involved in his life. Whether it was healthy for them to have some separation or not, it was still strange.

“It’s dangerous!” Jungkook was saying. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“You were aware of the set up, you should have been more prepared for it.” The stage director argued.

“What seems to be the problem, boys?” Sumi pulled her pink fluffy sweater closer around her shoulders as she stepped up to the confrontation.

Jungkook looked away from the director, and she could see from how he clenched his jaw just how angry he was.

“Nothing.” The stage director said. “We’re moving onto the next rehearsal.”

“Someone is going to get hurt!” Jungkook was close to shouting. “If your crew keeps getting in the way and the stage is screwed up, we’re going to-“

“Let me run that, and you focus on dancing, okay?” The director said condescendingly, clearly trying to dismiss them.

“Hold on.” Sumi held up a hand to stop him from moving away. “We’re the one’s who are responsible if us or our dancers get hurt.”

“Then try not to fall.” The director leaned down to speak right into her face.

Sumi scoffed, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“You should get back to hair and makeup, I think you’re going to need a lot of work.” The director smirked.

“Yah.” Jungkook stepped forward. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook.” Sumi tilted her head. “This idiot just hasn’t realized that we control his paycheck yet.”

“Idols don’t control my paycheck. I work for your company, not for you.” The director shook his head. “Don’t get arrogant.”

“No, you try not to get arrogant. The company controls your paycheck? How much of that company do you think we own? If you want to play that game, go ahead. Maybe this show sucks because you’re too lazy to figure out your job, but all we have to do is say the word and you’ll never get hired for a major event again.” She gave him a smirk of her own.

“I…you…” He sputtered.

“Got it?” Sumi smiled. “Good. Now, you might want to think about taking my groupmate’s concerns a little more seriously.”

“You…”

Sumi glanced at Jungkook and winked. “Shout if you need me. I’ll be eating noodles.”

Jungkook just gave her a knowing smile, before crossing his arms and turning back to the director.

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook found Sumi in a rolling chair, legs up on a table and bowl of noodles in her hands.

“Noona.” He said in greeting.

“Kookie.” She lifted her chopsticks. “Rehearsal over?”

“Yeah.” He sat down on the table, looking down at her as she took a bite of noodles.

“Problem solved?” She asked, her mouth full.

“Like clockwork. I think he’s going to have nightmares about you.” He grinned.

“I love that.” She laughed. “It’s for the best, anyways. If you got hurt because of his idiocy I’d have to beat the-“

“Noona?”

“Right. This is the new, chill Sumi.” She giggled. “Hungry?”

“Just a bite.” He leaned down, opening his mouth as she lifted the chopsticks. She blew on the noodles to cool them down before he took a bite.

He chewed for a few seconds, leaving the two of them in silence as she took her own bite.

“You still do that.” He said quietly.

“Do what? Eat noodles?” She wiped some broth off her face.

“No,” He laughed. “Blow on my food if you think it’s too hot.”

Sumi froze, lowing the bowl back to her lap. “Sorry. I don’t mean to.”

“Don’t mean to what?”

“To be all…weird. I’m not your mom.”

“No, you’re not.” Jungkook nudged her leg with his hand. “But I don’t think you’re ever going to stop being my big sister.”

“I thought you hated it.” Her eyes widened.

“I hated when you treated me like a child. I’m okay with this.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, of course.” He smiled, the same smile he’d given her every single time she handed him a school lunch, or tied his tie, or fixed his hair before a performance. “Sometimes I need my noona, and sometimes I need to deal with things for myself. I think we’re both getting better at realizing when.”

“I think so too.” Sumi smiled. “So…you don’t want me to beat up the director?”

“Not until after the performance.” He winked.

“Yes, sir.” She collected more noodles and held them up to him. “Eat up, you’re getting too skinny.”

“Kay.”

[nonbinaryeye]

Disappointing Your Own Family and Other Lonely Things

Written for @lonelyeyesweek

Day 2 - Proposal

Peter Lukas thinks there is nothing more Lonely than to ignore all the members of his family and just mind his own business. Unfortunately some of his relatives seem to not fully share his view and simply must share their opinion on Peter's life.

Read on AO3

…

Peter is really starting to dislike family funerals lately. He still enjoys the silence and peace found in mourning someone you never knew. He likes feeling no sense of loss about them disappearing from this world. It is nice to be looking at an empty casket not being able to recall any memories with them – not even their face. Yes, all those things are still as wonderful as ever.

The problem are those relatives who are unfortunately still very much alive. Last few years, instead of simply parting ways without even looking at each other, members of his family have been trying to start a conversation with him. Just two years ago someone asked him how their ritual was going. Four years before that someone else told him to take over the family affair of dealing with the Magnus institute. And three years before that he was informed about getting the position of the captain of Tundra. All those things could have been solved through much less personal ways such as correspondence. Or even better not to be discussed at all!

Unfortunately even this funeral of a cousin, whose name Peter already forgot, is not very different. Just as he is almost out of the door his uncle stands in his way.

“What is this?” Nathaniel Lukas waves a golden piece of paper in front of his face. It seems familiar… He takes it out of his hand. He does not need to read it to recognize that way too curly and pretentious handwriting.

“Invitation to my and Elias’ wedding. You’ve missed it by a year.”

“You are married to that man?” Nathaniel spits out a curse. Peter is happy to correct him.

"No, I’m not. We’ve got divorced last month.” If they were not he would start planning divorce now though. He was quite clear about not wanting his family to be included in any way. Yet Elias appears to send invitations to them against his wishes anyway – it could not be any less surprising.

“Why?”

“I don’t know why Elias felt the need to send you the invitation. I told him that-…”

“Why did you marry him?”

Peter shrugs. “I was not putting many thoughts into it.”

“Letting yourself being used by that voyeuristic bastard? Have you lost your mind? He married you just for money.”

“I know. And it sounded like quite a Lonely thing to do. I would not marry him if I suspected he cares about me; no need to worry,” Peter notes cheerfully even though he really wishes for this conversation to be over already.

“This is unacceptable, Peter. We tolerated you childish behaviour for long enough. You need to stop acting like a little brat and start doing more for this family.” Peter wonders who the 'we' exactly is since all the other members of his family left at sign of their confrontation and overall do not seem to be interested in Peter’s personal life at all. Sooner than he manages to ask, his uncle continues. “You should start serving the Forsaken in a more traditional way.  Let's start with getting you married.”

“Okay.”

“Someone else than that man again. Obviously.”

“What is more lonely that loveless and childless marriage? The pointlessness of it sounds like something worthy of the Forsaken. Not to mention the loneliness of being freshly divorced." Of course there is also the mild enjoyment of being freshly married but that's only natural. Where would the sweet pain of split up come from if there was not a sparkle of bliss first?

“Learn your place and do your job,” Nathaniel threatens, quite aggravated but so is Peter. This conversation is focused way too much on his life and goes on for way too long. He is tired of it. He is tired of his family telling him what to do with his life. He is tired of his family telling him how to serve Lonely. He is tired of his family telling him what he can and cannot do!

“No. I know my place and I am doing my job just fine. The Forsaken does not seem to have any problem with the way I serve it nor any of my personal relationships. That is all that matters is it not?”

Nathaniel is taken back. He is not used to anyone undermining his authority. Everyone rather agrees than to argue and prolong their talking and Peter would love to do the same. Unfortunately, actions suggested by Nathaniel sound like more trouble than talking to him some more. Because no. He does not want to settle down with a wife he despises and kids he does not care about.

“Now leave me alone.”

He has been planning to return back on Tundra right after the funeral. After this exhausting interaction he could really use some time in the Lonely. With such a lovely time awaiting it would be very silly of him to head to London instead, making a short stop by Magnus institute, would it not? On the other hand what is more deliciously lonely then disappointing your family…

He should probably make one more stop at the jewellery store. Does Forsaken demand miserable marriage from him? Very well he can just choose evil he already knows and just marry James Elias Jonah again! He hopes Nathaniel will not mind too much receiving a new wedding invitation so soon after the last one.

[angelkurenai]

Imagine doing the WIRED autocomplete interview with your husband, Robert, and getting asked very often about your relationship with co-star and friend, Bradley Cooper. Only for your husband to get jealous.

“And the last one, I feel like no matter how prepared I say I am for some of these, I always end up surprised, so-” you cleared your throat and looked down at the board “Is Robert Downey Jr-” you read on the image that was the google search for your husband before pealing the sticker “The little spoon or the big spoon? This, wow!”

You both immediately burst into laughter, your husband clapping his hands and muttering “Amazing. It's amazing!”

“This contains the most popular searches right?” you spoke, looking at the crew around you and behind the cameras “I wonder who ever googled this. Who, like, woke up and said 'Hey, you know what I wanna find out today? If Robert Downey Jr is the little spoon, man! I bet that would be interesting!' why would you ever-” you shook your head with a laugh.

“Alright, first of all-” Robert spoke, a good few seconds of trying to recover from his laughing fit “Let's make something clear, shall we? We are not making fun of little spoons. Absolutely no fun. There is no shame in it, and I as a proud cuddler, cannot and will not judge big or little spoons in any way. Cuddling is fun and it makes you warm and happy, you should be proud of yourself if you are a good cuddler. However, that being said-” he put on a serious face and looked at the camera “I'm a knife.”

You looked at your husband then at the camera with a blank expression before shaking your head with a small roll of your eyes and added only three seconds after him “He's the little spoon.”

Robert couldn't help but snicker, the serious expression melting away before he nodded his head “Yes I'm the little spoon. What can you do eh?”he couldn't help his laughter “Seriously this is too embarrassing but I've stopped caring long ago.”

“I mean hey-”you laughed as you handed the cardboard in exchange for another one which you hand over to him “It could be worse, so let's not push our luck, shall we? Remember what you told me you feared to see in those questions most? Yeah, we haven't come across that yet.”

“Oh yes, how could I ever-” he said playfully, letting a small laugh before turning more serious, face completely honest – and words even more than anyone, besides you, could know – as he said to the camera “I prefer it when she tops, yes, to answer any google searches that haven't made it here yet. For reasons I can't understand but-”

You were your yelp could be described to a chimp's more than a human's but you didn't care, when you felt the heat rise up on your cheeks and your eyes widen a little in horror and more in shock and embarrassment as you exclaimed “Robert!”

“What?” all he did was laughing – or more specifically join in on the laughing of the rest of the crew around you and your probably dying from laughter and on the floor manager of yours.

“I shouldn't have- Oh I walked right into it, I shouldn't have brought that up.” you cleared your throat, shaking your head.

“Honestly, I don't understand- Why are you laughing? It's more relaxing, isn't it? I always found it better to-” he couldn't control his own laughter no matter how much he tried “Don't the gentlemen here agree?” he asked, earning more laughter but a couple nods as well “Ah there, a few brave souls, see? Better already!” he grinned at you, kissing your temple.

“Oh my- Just get on with the game, please!”

“See? She's so bossy sometimes that how can I help it if I ask to be sp-”

“Robert!” you squeaked, trying to get him back on track “I swear to you if you dare complete that sentence.” you gave him a look “Seriously, not what we're here for. Focus.”

“Alright, alright-” he cleared his throat “Back to business I suppose. Let's see what we got here-” he looked at the cardboard in his hands “Is (Y/n) (Y/l/n)... part of the MCU?” he read as he pealed the sticker.

“Well, that's a good one because you can't get a yes or no answer right away. Though we have filmed a movie, so theoretically I am part of the MCU, the movie is not out yet for my character to be really a part of the MCU. So-” you shrugged “Depending on how you see it.”

“Way I see it is the next big bad should be scared cause the strongest character of the MCU is about to join in! Plus the most cool one, would easily make even Tony fall for her!”

“He speaks as if he was even paying to me when I was saying my lines. You could see it in his eyes, the moment he saw me in my suit, he just lost all focus or grasp of reality.” you pointed out and he shrugged not innocently in the least bit.

“Eh guilty, but nobody can blame me. So-” he looked back at the cardboard “Is (Y/n) (Y/l/n)... in the movie 'The Judge'? Why, yes, actually she is. As well as the incredible mind behind the script of some of the scenes.”

“As well as the one to keep this guy on track on set, is the most important thing you're forgetting Downey.”

“That too.” he chuckled “Alright, next: Is (Y/n) (Y/l/n)... in the movie 'A Star Is Born'? Yes, yes she was. And she was incredible as always. Though I might be a bit biased seeing as I'm her number one fan. Maybe, just maybe. I don't know, I'm just sayin'.” he said with a small scoff that made you grin because he was always supportive of you without making a big deal out of it when it wasn't necessary, always caring that you knew it better than anyone that he admired you.

“Along with a wonderful cast, tough. Really it was one of the best movies I've been in, made so many friends too.”

“All in all a must watch. Ok, next one: Is (Y/n) (Y/l/n)... friends with Bradley Cooper?” he couldn't help but repress a heavy sigh that he made sure – and you knew took extra pleasure in – to be extra dramatic “More like, is (Y/n) (Y/l/n) attached to the hip with Bradley Cooper? That's the question people should be asking!”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing at your husband but it sounded more like a small laugh “You make it sound like I never spend time away from the guy!”

“Oh, I'm sorry, you actually do? I have never been witness to such a rare phenomenon. Maybe next time it happens, next time you actually spend like an hour away from him without having to text or call each other, I would very much like to be present so that I can believe it.” he said, voice full of sarcasm to the point you couldn't help but shake your head at him.

“Robert, for real-”

“No, I really mean it! I'm not being sarcastic or anything-” he looked at the cameras and people behind them “People think that Avengers Endgame is going to be the event of the decade, but I tell you if she takes a break from her friend, that will be it!”

“Alright, then, so what am I supposed to do on my free time if not spend it with my friends?” you asked in disbelief, eyes wide but a laugh leaving from your lips.

“Oh I don't know.” he shrugged innocently “Maybe, just maybe, spend some time with your husband too? Who knows how neglected he might feel after all.”

“Oh you little-” you stopped, only to narrow your eyes at him “Jealous you mean then?”

“Touche. But no.” he tsked and shrugged “Mildly neglected, slightly in need of spooning and probably a tad annoyed. But never jealous, honey, you know I don't do that. I don't really have the need to do that. I'm way above that.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear.” you sighed before looking back at the camera “Yes we are really good friends, if you didn't get it by now. Best buddies, I think that's what people call us; it's like every single person that knows us knows it and never questions it. And as for Robert-” you glanced at your husband with a shake of your head “He's a drama queen don't mind hi-”

“Me? I'm the drama queen? I was on IKEA with Evans last week and we saw this double king sized bed and you know what? I really started considering asking for it in case your buddy decided to join us for sleep other than breakfast, brunch, lunch, tea, supper, dinner and midnight snack!” he gave you a look that underneath all the playfulness you could read all too well. The small narrow of the eyes, the lips pursing in a tight smile and then following the click of the tongue before he spoke carefully-chosen words again “How does that sound to you, honey?”

“Unnecessary, darling.” you shrugged, a smirk lifting at the corners of your lips “You could just leave the bed and there, problem solved, plenty of space!” and a small laugh did escape your lips when the smile vanished entirely from his face “Anyhow, I think what's more important here than me spending the entire day with my friend, which by the way happens only once in a while stop overreacting-” you gave him a look at which he rolled his eyes “That's important is, what the hell where you and Chris Evans doing at IKEA?”

“Hopefully, if it all went well, making history!” he was soon back to grinning before looking down at the board “Let's see this one and hope it's not- Is (Y/n) (Y/l/n)... really kissing Bradley Cooper? Really? I-”

You were quick to clasp a hand over Robert's mouth before he got to say a thing and spoke yourself “I don't know what the person searching this had in mind. As in, is that really happening? Yes, yes it was. Hard as it was for me to believe. Even before our scene I was panicking on the inside, I'm surprised I looked so cool, because let's be honest it's Bradley freaking Cooper but-”

You paused when Robert took hold of your wrist, removing your hand to speak “And your husband is Robert freaking Downey Jr!” before putting it back where it was.

“Well, yeah, but honey you've been my husband for years and he-” you stopped only for a second, noticing the way he narrowed his eyes at you dangerously but in a way that only made everyone laugh “Well, it's still Bradley Cooper. So in the essence that it happened, yes. But in the essence that it was real, obviously, no... Insert wishful sigh. It was only acting.” you tried to pretend to be sad about it, but it soon fell apart when you laughed.

Granted, it didn't help that your husband was murmuring words that were muffled and made no sense behind your hand.

“You have something to add there honey?” you giggled, pulling your hand away from him this time.

“Plenty, none of which is suitable for the net. So, I'd much rather change the topic altogether. Is (Y/n) (Y/l/n)... married to Bradley Cooper? Are you for real now?” his entire face fell as he looked at the cameras in disbelief, a perfect contrast to your laughing reaction.

“Really not a good follow up search. Who put these in order? It's too fun right now.” you giggled more when you saw Robert shake his head and throw the entire board on the back with a flick of his hand.

“Someone that needs to get fired, that's who.” Robert grumbled, arms crossing over his chest “But then probably rehired and forced to learn everything about our love story and make an epic documentary about it or something.”

“Come to think of it, these are things many people have actually searched you know?” you mumbled deep in thought.

His head snapped in your direction so fast, eyes impossibly wide, as he stared at you in disbelief and in a way that you could hardly not laugh at “Are you kidding me now? I really didn't need to be reminded you know! I mean-” he scoffed, looking around “Why does everyone seem to forget we've been married? It's been years now!”

“See, maybe, it's possible that plenty of ladies and gentlemen out there don't know if they have any chances with you and want to find out if you really are out on the market or not?” you shrugged “Wouldn't surprise me. First thing I googled a week after I met was your dating status and let me tell you I was more than glad to fill that empty space!”

“See, she knows she is smooth and that it's very distracting.”

“Thing is, is it working?” you asked with a smirk.

He chuckled but his smile fell very shortly afterward “Definitely not this time. Mr Cooper and I will need to have a word.”