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#my break is now over and tomorrow resumes the final hell rush before the end of the semester

lilxberry · 3 years

Text

‘Evil’ Step-mom - Kevin/Tom Keller (Platonic/Romantic)

Requested by: @thanossexual

Hi! So if you decide to write for Riverdale parents could I perhaps request Tom Keller x Reader, Platonic! Kevin Keller x Reader , where Y/n is in her thirties and is engaged to Tom and Kevin's friends come over to cheer him up when they find out cause they think that he's mad or sad but he's actually getting along with the reader and gossiping with her about boys and teenage drama and their reaction is just priceless when Kevin tells them that he's basically on best friend terms with Y/n. 😎

Ofc feel free to ignore this request if you don't like it!

I LOVED this request so of course I wasn’t gone ignore. With this, I mainly focused on giving a little detail between Kevin and readers’ relationship and how the girls had assumed that Kevin would be upset with Tom and readers’ engagement.

I do plan on making a part two, where I would focus more on Tom and reader, maybe a slightly prequel about the night they had gotten engaged or the aftermath of their engagement. Maybe a lil’ conflict between whatever Josie’ mom name is and the reader. (I lowkey don’t care. She is just as irrelevant to me as she is hot lmao). Maybe because she’s jealous or something, I dunno, I’m brainstorming rn.

Anyways, I’ve waffled on long enough so I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: None really, just humour tbh. I’m shocked too.

Words: 777

Pairings: Kevin Keller x reader (Platonic) (Female Reader). Mentions Tom Keller x reader (Romantic)

_______________

Kevin’ morning had been a…confusing one at that. At soon as he walked through those doors to enter the school, the girls had flanked him and offered him their ‘condolences’, even Cheryl. His raised eyebrow and utter confused expression were definitely comical and just so him.

They had refused to bring whatever was supposedly upset him up or give some form of explanation to the young man, leaving him with little to no answers and a sore neck from all the shaking he has done through the day.

This continued until, finally, the bell to signify the end of last period sounded, giving the student body the freedom, they had craved all day.

Kevin had no desire to rush, wanting to take his time to put whatever textbooks into his locker and collect whatever he may need until tomorrow. But the girls had other plans. As soon as Kevin had passed the door exiting the class, he was flanked. Veronica on his right, Betty to his left.

“C’mon Kev, we’ve got some shakes to sip at Pop’s,” stated Veronica, clearly showing that he had no say in whatever they had planned. “Cheryl and Toni are going to meet us there.”

Kevin sighed deeply through his nose as he rolled his eyes before offering both of his arms to the girls which they quickly linked with their own. “Fine, but I need to get something from my locker.”

“Come on then, we don’t have all day,” Betty remarked playfully, eliciting a collective chuckle from the trio as they began to walk down the hallway and towards Kevin’ locker.

_______________

Being sat with the girls at Pop’s really hadn’t given Kevin any clarity on why they were acting so weird. Weirder that what would be considered standard rate in Riverdale, at least.

“As much as I’ve loved the attention from my girls, truly, can someone please tell me why you’re all acting strange?”

Toni, Veronica and Betty had all simultaneously decided to take another sip from their milkshakes as they adverted their gaze. Cheryl had looked towards each of her female companions before sighing exaggeratedly and turning her attention towards Kevin who sat opposite to her.

“I don’t understand why you would want to bring it up and not just accept how great friends we are being right now. I mean, the amount of support we’re showing you at this terrible time is impeccable,” the red head spoke, slightly trailing from the point.

Kevin gave her a blank stare, waiting for her to finally spill what was going on. She sighed once more before speaking again. “We are simply trying to help you through the terrible news of your father proposing to Y/N.”

Kevin’ eyebrows furrowed; face scrunched up into confusion. Why was that terrible news? He greatly liked Y/N, he loved that she was now finally going to join the family officially. He was even the one to push his father to propose. Hell, he was even there when he had done so.

Shaking his head, he stuttered slightly as he spoke. “I-I don’t understand. Why is that bad?”

All heads at the table had snapped to look at him, all held a look of utter shock, as if he what he had said were incredulous.

“I thought it was gonna be an evil step-mother situation, honestly. We all did.” Toni was the first to break the silence, voicing what everyone had clearly thought was his feelings about you.

Kevin shook his head, a smile now forming on his lips. “No, I love Y/N. She’s awesome and she makes my dad happy, which makes me happy. Plus, we gossip all the time. Half of the drama I’ve know has been because she constantly texts me.”

Veronica smiled at Kevin as she rested her hand upon his arm in a friendly manner. “I’m sorry we got it so wrong. I’m glad, we’re glad, that you love her so much.”

“Yeah. We should have asked. We’re all sorry.” Betty gave him as side hug which he had happily returned.

“It’s fine. But yeah. Maybe ask next time.” They all shared a small laugh, resuming the chit chatting from before, taking sips from their shakes once more.

Quickly finishing off his drink, he looked towards the girls before speaking up. “I should get going, me and Y/N kinda have a movie night planned.”

“And you didn’t invite moi?!” Veronica feigned insult with an overdramatised gasp and hand over her chest. “Have fun, Kev.”

After more farewells from the rest of the girls, Kevin hastily left the diner, on his way to spend time with his favourite gossip guru and soon-to-be step-mom.

_______________

Honestly, can we appreciate how quickly I have gotten these last two fics out because holy shit lmao

I really did have fun writing this and hope I can create a good part 2 where I focus on the relationship between Tom and reader

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

#kevin keller #kevin keller x #kevin keller x reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x fem reader #x step mom!reader #tom keller #tom keller x #tom keller x reader #sheriff keller #sheriff keller x #sheriff keller x reader #riverdale #riverdale fic #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale x reader #riverdale fluff

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maybedefinitely404 · 3 years

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Not Your Typical 2

Genre: college AU, hurt/comfort

Pairings: romantic Demus, background Logicality, and Prinxiety

Content: autistic characters (Logan and Janus), arguments, panic attack/anxiety, ASL, talk of pretty bad ableist parenting/manipulation.

Song mentioned is Electric Love by BØRNS

Word count: 3.3k

“BABE!”

Janus’ head shot up seconds before Remus barreled into their room, clearly having run there, possibly all the way from his night class. He dropped his load of textbooks onto the floor, hopping from foot to foot.

“You have a backpack for a reason,” Janus sighed affectionately. His boyfriend shuffled the empty bag off his shoulders so it fell to the floor with his school supplies and resumed his hopping.

“Listen to this!” He held up his headphones, clearly holding himself back from just popping them on Janus’ head himself.

“New song?”

“Just listen!”

Janus snorted but put the offered headphones on, watching as Remus restarted the music from his phone.

It began quietly, a lilting melody that was quickly underlaid with a sharp beat. He raised an eyebrow at Remus; it was catchy, but did not seem like his boyfriend’s type of music. There was a surprising lack of… screaming. Or profanity. Or yodelling .

He had interesting taste in music.

But Remus just bounced on his toes, nearly wiggling until an electric guitar riff made Janus jump a bit. It wasn’t necessarily a bad jump, more one of surprise, but he gave a thumbs up anyways to reassure Remus. He closed his eyes as the verse began, relaxing in his chair and shutting his brain off.

Janus hadn’t even noticed he was tapping his hands on the arms of the chair until he peaked an eye open to see his boyfriend’s excited expression, not unlike a child on Christmas morning.

A bit after they’d started officially dating, Remus had accidentally discovered Janus’ once-least-favorite neurodiverse trait in himself; happy stimming. It was overly vulnerable and had gotten him teased too often when he was younger, so he had made a habit of masking the excited movement. It had only taken one date to the animal rehabilitation centre, and an hour long detour in the reptile area, for that barrier to break. But Remus had taken him for the sole reason of showing Janus the snakes, what was he supposed to do?

The first time he’d been totally natural around Remus (due to finding a green tree python, because oh my god Remus look at it!), bouncing and tucking his cheek to his shoulder and flapping his hands, his boyfriend had solemnly taken his hands, leaned far too close, and uttered something along the lines of ‘What the fuck was that and how do I make you do it again?’ Apparently he thought it was cute.

Preposterous.

And judging by the slow rising in the song’s pitch, that was exactly what Remus was attempting to trigger. Janus could feel a smile forming against his will as the music crescendoed, and with it came a floating sensation. It felt like fire shooting up his spine, or pop rocks in his skull, an addictive rush of joy that filled his body with adrenaline, the best possible butterflies in his stomach. His hands flapped in an effort to release the energy and for now he let them, the grin now making his cheeks hurt.

All at once the beat settled back to it’s verse tempo and Janus pulled the headphones off somewhat sheepishly.

“Hell. Yes.” Remus whispered, a matching wide smile stretching across his face. He cradled Janus’ face between his palms, as if he were something fragile, and edged forward until their noses booped, “You’re so. Goddamn. Cute.”

“Am not,” Janus forced out between his squished cheeks. It would have been much more convincing if he weren’t fighting off more happy wiggles.

Remus snorted and pressed a peck to Janus’ lip before whirling on his heels, more or less skipping to the common area.

“Logan, I did it!” He sang grandly. He twirled around the living room with a whoop, startling a laugh out of Janus. Virgil and Roman, who must have been situated on the couch, yelled as Remus splayed across them just out of Janus’ line of vision.

“Get off us, you oaf-”

“Jesus, Remus!”

“Oh Logaaaaan!”

Janus leaned against the doorway of their room to watch the scene unfold. Remus finally gave in to the pushing from their roommates and rolled onto the floor with a brilliant thud and a cackle.

“Get him off my foot!”

“He’s your brother.”

Remus snickered and promptly attached himself to Roman’s leg like a koala, digging his teeth into his shin.

“REMUS!”

“Yeth?” He asked around his mouthful. Roman freed the leg not being eaten and, with no preamble, delivered a solid kick to his brother’s side.

“I’ve been shot!” Remus wailed dramatically, rolling onto his back.

“I’m going to need a rabies shot!”

“I see the light-”

“Am I bleeding? Virgil, get the first aid kit!”

“Alas, the world goes dim! What an end, what an end…”

“What if they have to amputate?”

Janus’ hand could no longer muffle his laughter, and his laughing distracted Remus enough to get a dazzling smile from where he was laying half under the coffee table. The diversion seemed to remind him of why he’d come into the living room in the first place.

His face fell into a pout and he shrieked, “LOGAN!”

The door to Logan and Patton’s room flew open and the latter poked his head out with a violent shush.

“Logan is on the phone!”

True to his word, Logan was pacing their room behind him, stimming anxiously while he spoke into his phone in a completely neutral voice.

Virgil sat up straighter, earning a concerned look from Roman, who gave up on nursing the bite mark on his sweatpants. However, Remus was oblivious to the sudden tenseness in the air, kicking his feet onto the coffee table.

“Who is he on the phone with?” Virgil asked, slowly getting up from the couch.

Patton shut the door after a quick glance into the room. The rest of the dorm stayed silent until he’d clicked the latch into place, as if all holding their breath. Logan’s voice became just a murmur behind the wall as Patton met Virgil’s eyes nervously.

“It’s his parents,”

“WHY-” Patton shushed Virgil wildly, hands waving up a flurry. The man continued in a hushed tone but with just as much fury, “Why is he talking to his parents?”

Roman jumped up, probably to try and ease an almost-spitting Virgil but only succeeding in stepping on Remus.

“Ow!”

“Then why are you on the floor!?”

Virgil took a step toward Patton. “He hasn’t talked to them in a year-”

“I will eat your whole leg off!”

“I’d like to see you try!”

“Oh? OH!? When you wake up tomorrow with no legs, you’ll regret that!”

“Remus, just get up!”

He froze from where he’d been pushing himself up from the floor, gingerly lowering himself back down and crossing his arms. “Well, now I’m not going to.”

“Why don’t…” Janus faltered as every eye in the room settled on him, fighting his instinct to shut his mouth. They want to hear you, they want to hear you- “Why don’t we like Logan’s parents?”

Virgil and Patton answered at the same time.

“They’re assholes.”

“They’re not great p- language!”

If Janus remembered correctly, Virgil and Logan had known each other far longer than any of the others, though it wasn’t hard to surmise from Virgil’s reactions. He’d never seen him get so worked up.

“They’re ableist, homophobic pieces of sh-”

“But!” Patton interrupted, “We probably shouldn’t say more without Logan here.”

Virgil grumbled under his breath and dropped back onto the sofa, followed by Roman, who placed an arm around his shoulders. It did nothing to placate his anger, but he did lean marginally into his boyfriend’s side.

“We don’t like them,” Remus said in a falsely bright tone as he squirmed out from where he’d been trapped. “How long does he have to talk to Tweedledee and Tweedledick?”

“Language…”

“What do they want from him?” Virgil demanded. Was it Janus’ imagination, or were his eyes shinier than they’d been a minute before?

“I don’t…” Patton glanced at the closed door, “I’m sure Logan can tell you later. I’ll tell you as soon as he’s ready to talk, okay?”

They were given one more reminder to hush, and then Patton disappeared back into their room. The group fell into silence as soon as he was gone.

Remus broke the lull with a loud knuckle crack and a, “So, American Horror Story, anyone?”

No one complained, which Remus took as affirmation. Virgil had turned to burrow his face into Roman’s shoulder, which smartly, no one addressed. The opening credits flashed across the scene as Remus scrambled onto the loveseat, patting the spot next to him.

“Snakey, sit.”

Janus shook his hands briefly to dispel his nerves before taking the spot next to his boyfriend, leaning into his side. Every bit of contact that he initiated excited Remus to no end. He swung his arm over Janus’ shoulders and pulled him even closer and then, to Janus’ revolt, began to run his thumb lightly over his hand.

“Yuck, no, no no no, stop,” Janus squirmed, stilling Remus’ thumb with his other hand, and nestling even further into him.

“Oh, right. Forgot.”

“No harm done.”

They’d barely gotten through an episode of the show when the door opened behind them. Roman wasted no time shutting the TV off, and the four of them watched with rapt attention as Patton and a slightly disheveled Logan emerged.

“I hear there was some commotion over the content of my phone call.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely!” Virgil snapped.

“Your concern is noted but unnecessary,” Logan replied curtly, “My parents called because I was not answering their messages.”

“They’ve been messaging you?!” Virgil hissed, pulling away from Roman’s hold to stand.

“Do they ever stop?” Logan rolled his eyes and finally released his death grip on his cell phone. He slid it into his back pocket instead. “For some reason they insist I come back home this summer.”

Him and Patton did that bizarre communicate-silently thing they did often, as Logan lifted his arm and his boyfriend attached to his side immediately. Perhaps one day, him and Remus would have that level of intuitiveness that puzzled him so. The thought made his face grow hot. A glance at Remus confirmed he hadn’t noticed, though.

“You haven’t gone back since first year. Why now?” Roman asked. His twin hummed in agreement.

Logan turned his gaze to the floor, taking a while to answer. “I don’t understand their timing. But they are threatening to withdraw financial assistance towards my schooling if I refuse.”

The room exploded into chaos.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“That’s not fair, after all they’ve done to you-”

“Would anyone notice if they went missing?”

“Remus-”

“You can’t go back there, Lo…”

“I wasn’t planning to! But now I may not have a choice, Patton.”

“When do you have to decide?” Roman asked, earning a glare from Virgil.

“It’s not a choice, he can’t go!”

“This is my choice, not yours, Virgil! Either way, the due date is in a week. I’ll have made my decision by then.”

Janus stiffened as the air was pulled from his lungs. “Wait, what due date?”

No one seemed to notice his question, however, as the volume in the room raised another octave. His words were lost to the level of shouting, completely invisible to everyone. He tried to pretend it didn’t hurt as much as it did.

As easy as it would have been to just fade into the background, as per usual, the unanswered question was burrowing a hole in his chest. Janus tugged on Remus’ sleeve.

“What due date?”

Finally, Remus turned sharp eyes from the conversation to him. The slightly manic glint to them softened as soon as he saw Janus’ panicked expression, and he shifted their hands so their fingers locked.

“S’when we gotta let the school know if you’re staying on campus for summer break. Didn’t you get the email?”

“What email?!” Janus hissed just as the arguing reached its peak. Logan had pulled himself away from (a decently distraught) Patton and was gripping his own arms with white knuckles.

“Why do you even care?! I’m fine!” He said through grit teeth.

“You’re clearly not,” Roman retorted. Virgil had pulled up his phone and was scrolling through it with purpose, clearly trying to find something.

“I’ll figure it out! This doesn’t have to be an event for everyone!”

“That doesn’t mean you’re-”

“Will you just drop it, Roman?!” Logan yelled, voice cracking.

Janus nearly bumped into Remus with the way he flinched. The other’s arm immediately tightened around him, a grounding pressure across his shoulders.

“I think we’re all tired,” Patton broke the tense air with a pleading tone, “Can we come back to this tomorrow? Please?”

Logan was gone without another word, followed by Patton after a round of strained good-nights.

---------------------------------------

As clingy a couple as they were, sleeping was a different matter. One time, one time only, they’d tried to cram onto one of their puny twin beds and that had lasted a whole half hour before they decided to never try it again. Janus needed his space if he even wanted a chance at a peaceful sleep, and Remus had the lovely habit of embodying a starfish with a caffeine problem, even when unconscious. How he fit on the tiny dorm beds by himself astounded Janus, what with how he splayed. Janus had gotten two full hits to the face before he’d leaned against the wall and pushed Remus to the floor with his feet. The man hadn’t stirred.

The next morning Remus had suggested (without thinking) that one day they’d just get a bigger bed, and Janus had turned a bright crimson at the easy way he had discussed their future together.

Either way, for now, they stayed in their respective beds, but at that moment, Janus was missing the distinctive feeling of being Remus’ teddy bear. His mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, or perhaps a tornado. It was a flurry any which way, one that kept his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he couldn’t even see in the dark. Across the small room, he could hear Remus shifting, his breath catching every time he moved, meaning he was probably still awake as well.

“Remus?”

“Yeah, snakey?”

Guess he was right, then. Janus rolled towards him, even though he couldn’t make out anything in the pitch black.

“I can’t sleep.”

There was a chuckle from across the room. “Have you even tried?” It was a valid question; it hadn’t been more than five minutes since they’d turned off the lights.

“I mean, I won’t be able to sleep.” Janus sighed. He gnawed at his fingernails as louder shuffling came from Remus’ bed.

“Why not?”

There were a few things, if he was honest.

“Does Virgil get mad like that a lot?” Not what he’d meant to lead with, but oh well.

“Oh,” Remus replied lightly, “He wasn’t mad. He probably sounded real pissed though. He was just worried about Logan. They grew up together and all that shit, so Virgil got like a front row seat of all the shit they did to him. Taping his hands to tables so he didn’t flap ‘em, all that.”

Janus was speechless.

“Is that all that’s buggin’ ya?”

“Not really.”

“Spill the tea.”

In a familiar moment of self consciousness, Janus curled his knees into his chest. He wants to hear you, he wants to hear you. The blankets pooled around his waist as he sat up, hoping the position would somehow grant him more courage.

“I started thinking about… what Logan said, and now I don’t know if I want to go home or stay on campus over summer. I didn’t know that was even an option. But it would be so much easier to not have to pack up again, and I’m just getting used to it here, but what if my parents are mad, like Logan’s?”

The fairy lights that encircled their room flickered to life, revealing Remus had stretched to reach the switch from his bed.

“I didn’t get the email and now I don’t even know if it’s possible for me to stay on campus, what if I missed a due date? It’s my fault, I should have checked every folder and now I don’t know what to do, I…” Janus’ sentence bled into a hum from the back of his throat. The swirling flotsam of thoughts thickened, a swarm of bees being swallowed by their own honey; worries still existing, but now infinitely harder to reach and express.

“I don’t know what to do- I… I don’t, I can’t think, my brain’s too busy-” He wrapped his fists in his blanket to keep from gripping his hair. All of the sudden, he was a coiled spring and there was nothing he could do to loosen the pressure. He needed a release, he needed to move and to be held still, his chest full of helium but his arms filled with a colony of ants under his skin, every molecule separating and floating away. Janus shoved his fists into the blankets, pushing and pushing and begging for the awful pressure to disappear.

“Hey hey hey, take a breath, snakey. I’m right here.”

The bed dipped under Remus’ weight and his first reaction was to reach out but no, no the ants were still there, in his hands, and he bent them backwards at the wrist to kill the itch. Curl curl curl, and his fists were jammed against his jaw, pressure push stop stop-

“I’m trying, I am, I just-” He cut himself off with a sob that was more of a cough, drawing in a wheezing breath. Remus must be freaking out, he could tell, and god he wanted to stop but the cycle continued, cough and breathe in and try to squish the fucking ants.

“Do you want me to get Logan? Or Patton?”

No, no, no. Janus shook his head vigorously and pushed his fists under his legs, leaning forward to force his whole weight on the limbs. Yeah, yeah that felt better, more weight, he needed more-

“Pressure,” Janus gasped, interrupting whatever Remus had been saying but finding he couldn’t care less. He removed one hand from the safety he’d found and hit the heel of it to his chest. “I need- I need pressure, weight, I can’t-” Cough. Hum.

“Weighted blanket? Is that it?” The worry in Remus’ voice was so clear it was almost embarrassing, but Janus would never admit how much he adored it; it was a level of softness no one else was privy to.

“No-” The weighted blanket would have been his go to before, when he was alone, but it was never enough.

Deep pressure therapy, he remembered Logan calling it. A way to regulate the nervous system when it was going nuts, something about resetting the ‘fight or flight’ reflex. He couldn’t remember the details. But he could remember Logan’s explaining different forms of it.

“Hug?” Janus pleaded, rocking forward onto his hands once more.

“I- What…- Are you sure?”

Janus let out a broken sound. He nodded quickly, freeing a hand to circle it over his chest, palm flat, over and over. Please. Logically, he knew there was no time pressure, but there was an undeniable feeling of ‘hurry, hurry, hurry’ rushing through him. Fight or flight, maybe.

Remus opened his arms and Janus was scrambling across the gap immediately, curling sideways on his lap. The only thing he could compare it to was dumping sand on a fire as Remus’ arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer to his chest and pressing his nose into Janus’ hair. Remus swayed them back and forth like he was reading Janus’ damn mind, and he finally took a deep breath. All the stress trickled from his tense muscles bit by bit, and the younger could have cried from relief.

Janus was quickly finding it hard to keep his eyes open as Remus kept rocking them, listening to his heartbeat and following his breathing in the rare quiet of their dorm that had come to feel like home.

“Feeling better?” Remus whispered.

Janus tensed immediately. “Don’t let go.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

And he didn’t.

Taglist:

@max-is-tired

@joylessnightsky

@marshymoop

#lywrites #sanderssides #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanderssidesfanfiction #dukeceit #prinxiety #logicality #autistic janus #autistic logan #sanders sides college au #anonymous

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onemistresstorulethemall · 3 years

Text

There is darkness in the light

This is nsfw, as well as 99% of my blog, oops

Ship: Mammon x F!Reader

Word count: 1859

“Oh, don’t tell me you got cold feet now. It was just getting interesting.”, you faked some sweetness into your tone, “Don’t fold now. Let’s raise. Indulge me.”, you shifted your legs, changing which was on top of which, moving them a little too slow, catching the attention of a few hungry demons, “Unless, of course, you’re scared of losing to a human…”

Your last line sparked something in the demon you were facing. He seemed offended. Good, you thought, that was the point. You needed him to play right into your trap.

“As if you could scare me.”, he snapped back, “Sure. I’ll humour you.”, he pushed a few more chips in the centre of the table.

Turning towards one of his friends, who already folded, he stated with a big smirk on his face:

“Bet she’d be set for life if she won my pocket money.”

His friend chuckled at the remark, but his eyes didn’t follow. You had beat him enough times for him to know better, but you’ve yet to destroy every crumb of pride, so he still kept up a confident façade. However, it meant little to you. All that counted in that moment was to win.

“So, what have you got, little one?”, the demon mocked you.

Your eyes burned through him and fell onto your date for the night. The second born was eyeing you from the bar, flashing a cheeky smile and raising his glass in your honour. Mammon knew you’d win this round. You both knew, actually. His pact mark burned in a particular way that let you know you were lucky. It came in handy at times like this or times when you had to guess answers to a RAD exam you didn’t study for.

“Please, do the honours.”, your attention shifted to the demon in front of you.

A pair of kings. Not bad, but not good either. At least, not good enough. However, you were here to have fun, so you faked defeat.

“My…That’s a good hand.”, you bit your lip and frowned.

At that point in time, a bunch of demons gathered around your table, waiting to see the results. Funny enough, demons made bets on who would win.

“Wish you backed away when you could, huh?”, your opponent lit up a cigarette.

“I…”, you looked down before revealing your cards, “I could ask you the same question.”, you glued your gaze to his as a huge grin spread across your face.

Three aces. You won.

“Motherfucker…”, he hissed while exhaling the smoke.

While you pulled the chips towards you the demons gathered around you loudly expressed their emotions. Some cursed, some cheered, but it mattered little to you.

Your opponent felt a tap on the shoulder. A woman handed him a glass of demonus and ruffled his hair.

“Lost to Mammon’s girl again?”, she laughed, “You should’ve known better.”

Happy with your earnings for the night, you left the table and headed towards the bar. When close enough to Mammon, your hands found their way around his neck. You leaned in close, your lips almost touching, breathing heavily, tension thick enough you could cut it with a knife.

“Tell me…”, you bit your lip, “Did you manage?”, your eyes full of desire.

“Yeah, baby, let’s get outta here.”, his smirk made your knees weak.

After you cashed in your gains, both of you got into Mammon’s car and the moment the door closed, you started laughing, no longer being able to contain it.

“Fucking hell, I can’t believe how dumb they are!”

You turned around to face the blue-eyed demon and cupped his cheeks, pulling him in to kiss him forcefully. Your hands knew no boundaries and travelled across his entire body, sneaking under clothes to feel his warm skin, grabbing with unsatiated hunger while your nails dug into his soft flesh. He was far from shy as well, high on the smell of money and one too many glasses of demonus. One of his hands rested on the back of your head, tangled into your hair a bit too tight, as if to make sure you weren’t going anywhere, while the other curiously explored your body, travelling from your waist to your ass and your thighs, making its way under your dress.

When you broke off the kiss, a strig of saliva still connected your mouths. Panting, you smirked and dragged your nails across his ribs.

“Let’s get out of here.”, you suggested.

“You wanna go home already?”, he seemed confused.

“No, silly. Let’s get a hotel room, see how much we made.”

Mammon seemed to like the idea, speeding up after planting a kiss on your lips one last time.

It was overwhelming. The cold wind blowing your hair around from the parted window, Mammon’s hand on your thigh occasionally squeezing and the thrill of accomplishing your plan.

Soon enough you got pulled up to a hotel and rushed into the room, unbearable to wait a second longer. You threw your heels on the floor quickly and opened up your purse to let a wave of grimm flow onto the bed.

Grinning, you turned to face Mammon who pulled around six wallets, three watches and a few pieces of jewellery from his pockets.

“Fuck, I can’t believe this worked…”, you finally broke the spell.

“Oh, of course it worked. You put on quite a nice show, princess. With your plan and my skills, it couldn’t go any other way.”

He emptied the contents of the wallets onto the bed.

It was your idea, actually. Mammon played first. You made quite a scene after he lost all his money and demanded that he backs off for the night. Instead, you asked he let you play a few games before you leave. He complied. You tried your best to make the matches entertaining and attract as much attention as you could. When people gathered around, Mammon used the opening to empty their pockets. It was all premeditated and you couldn’t believe you actually pulled it off.

“Do ya wanna count them?”, he asked.

As a response, you pushed him onto the grimm-filled bed and began to kiss his neck.

“Fuck…”, he hissed in surprise.

You loved being on top, having control over him, making him squirm under you and enjoying his every reaction. However, tonight, you wanted him to completely take over you. All you needed to do was to bring him to his breaking point.

Without hesitation, you reached for his jeans, unbuttoning them pulling them off along with his boxers.

“Shit, someone’s eager.”

“Mmm, you bet I am.”

You began to sloppily lick along his shaft, making sure it’s nice and wet before taking all of his length down your throat in one go.

“F-fuck, gimmie a warning first.”

You raised your head, drool dripping from your mouth, and looked into his ocean eyes.

“Gotta serve my king well, right?”

After a quick smile, you resumed to pleasuring your favourite demon. This time, slower, rolling your tongue around his tip and using a hand to stroke the rest.

“Shit…”, he breathed out, “You’re perfect.”

His hand found its way into your hair, pushing and pulling, controlling the pace. At this point it was less of a blowjob and more of a facefuck. Drool kept dripping from your lips and filled the room of wet, sloppy sounds. You couldn’t help but moan as he used your mouth. Mammon’s free hand bunched up the sheets and along with it a bunch of bills. That was probably the last drop for him cause he pulled onto your hair and freed your mouth. As if you weighted nothing, he switched the positions, pulling you under him before beginning to undress you. Your dress hit the floor and so did your panties.

His eyes were full of desire as he grabbed your waist and pulled you into a kiss. In the process, a bunch of grimm ended up on your stomach. When Mammon broke the kiss and leaned back his cock twitched when faced with the view.

Between your legs, his hand began to play with your wet folds, making you arch your back.

“You’re my most prized possession. Fuck, it’s like you were made for me…”

His fingers entered you, moving inside, hitting just the right spots. Your hips gained a mind of their own and moved without you even thinking about it.

“Doncha think so, y/n? That ya belong to me…”

His lips fell onto your neck before you even had a chance to reply. His teeth sank into your flesh, marking you as his own in yet another way.

When his thumb traced circles on your clit, a cry escaped your lips and you knew you reached your breaking point.

“Mammon if you don’t fuck me right this second…”

“You’ll what? Whine?”

“Fuck, please…”

Without another exchange, he flipped you around, turning you on your stomach before aligning himself to your entrance.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, y/n”

That was the last thing you heard before your head was pushed into a pile of grimm while his cock slowly entered you.

“Don’t fucking be gentle!”, you warned him, “Be as rough as you can.”

“You’ll break”, he chuckled.

“Good.”

He grabbed your hands by the wrist and pinned them to your back, so you had no choice but to sit there and take it. Mammon’s movements became rougher and faster while your moans became louder.

“You’re taking me so well, fuck…”

You weren’t half as coherent. You could only alternate between “Mammon” and “Fuck”. His free hand reached between your legs and rubbed against your clit in an attempt to relive all the built up tension. Your legs started to shake and your walls spasmed around his cock as you came undone. The demon did not slow down at all. Instead, his grip on your wrists became tighter and his thrusts deeper, chasing his own release. Soon enough, he spilled inside of you with a loud groan before falling onto his back next to you.

Still in a daze, you were a bit shocked when Mammon pulled you into an embrace and kissed the top of your head.

“Ya know… With your cash, there must be like a hundred thousand grimm here.”, he turned to face you, “How about we clean up and spend them all?”

Tomorrow you were bound to get back to the house of lamentation at some point. You’d have to do your homework, cook dinner as it was your turn and help Lucifer with a few documents. Basically, you had to take care of your responsibilities and be a good girl. So, of course, you nodded. Mammon was going to spend all the money regardless, so you took the chance to go wild and he was the only one you could go wild with. Your first demon, in every sense of the word. The only one who knew about the darkness in your soul and cherished it. He was both your chaos and your anchor. Your temptation and your guardian. Your sin and your virtue. He was yours, your Mammon.

#obey me!#shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me mammon #mammon x reader #shall we date mammon #obey me! mammon #mammon x mc #smut #the smuttier the better #obey me smut

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local-spoon-does-a-thing · 3 years

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Stress

[(Platonic) TFP! Optimus Prime x Reader]

A/N: So this was just a little vent fic I needed to do since school is going to start up tomorrow and I am not ready for it. Sorry if it's bad, but then again, it's a vent fic. Also I finally decided to watch Transformers Prime and I really like it.

Ah yes, it was back to school day. Winter break had unfortunately passed by way too quickly for anyone’s liking, but what else could they do? For you, the first day was always so dreadful. At least you only have one more year left before you enter college. Until then, you were stuck with kids you didn’t want to be around, dreadful school lunch, and assignment anxiety. Luckily, you got to go to school with Jack and Miko. You never really knew them at first but after getting caught up in an incident between the Decepticons and Autobots, you got to meet Raf and soon, your bonds with them grew (the Fearsome Foursome as Miko would call you guys).

It was your last period before school ended. You were absolutely waiting for the moment when you got to ride with Optimus, as he was your guardian. Sure, he was a busy ‘Bot, but he always managed to make time with you. You stared out the window at the driveway, feeling excited with which shenanigan was going to take place today. But you were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when you hear your name get called by the teacher.

“[Y/N], do you have your assignment?” The teacher questioned as she had a stack of papers resting in her arms. Oh, son of a- you’ve forgotten to do your assignment throughout the break since you were too caught up in having fun with your friends. Then again, who the hell assigns homework on winter break? It’s called a break for a reason. Twiddling your thumbs guiltily, you shook your head no and swallowed a lump in your throat. Please don’t get detention, please don’t get detention, please-

“[Y/N] you had all of winter break to finish your assignment. You’re a 12th grader, please be more responsible. You have detention after class.” She said as she went to her desk and put the sheets of paper down. You could feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you heard the teacher resume the class and lesson. Oh great, you lost homework credit and got detention. That assignment had 50 points and it went down the drain! Welp, guess it was time to say goodbye to your grade. You felt a cloud of pessimism shadow over your head as you did your best to pay attention to what was on the whiteboard. Time slowly passed by and finally, the school bell rang. As the students rushed out of the classroom, you slowly made your way out of the room as well and instead of walking out of school, you walked to the detention room. You gave a quick message to Jack to tell the others that you were in detention. Once the text had been sent, you entered the detention classroom and sat all the way in the back row, next to the big window.

For some reason, time seemed to drag on even more slowly. There were a few students in the room, but they were either asleep or doing their homework. You might as well do your homework as well since there was nothing else to do. As you fetched your utensils and the sheet of work, in the corner of your eye you saw a blue and red semi-truck waiting on the driveway. You couldn’t tell, but you could feel the old leader’s gaze resting on you through the window. You prayed with all your might to not get lectured tonight since you weren’t in the mood for it. You know that he means well, but it was still irritating. Clicking your pen, you looked back down at your paper and tried to solve an equation. Unfortunately, with the heavy gaze still on you and the worry of his lecture and disappointment, you got little to nothing done on your work.

Once you were able to leave, you packed all of your stuff and quickly left the building, soon making your way towards the semi-truck. You kept your eyes on the ground as the door flung open and you entered the passengers side. As soon as the door slammed shut, the engine came to life and you two made your way back to the base. The ride was pretty quiet as your hands rested on your lap. You refused to look away from your lap and continued to brace yourself for the lecture.

“[Y/N]...” Ah, there it was. After a moment passed by, you looked up at the radio and waited for him to continue. “Jack told me that you had detention. Care to explain why?”

Ah scrap, here we go again. You sunk into your seat and crossed your arms before answering his question. “Um, I forgot to do my assignment. That’s it, I swear.”

You could hear a faint sigh coming from his radio, though you couldn’t tell if it was a sigh of relief or a sigh of disappointment. No other words were exchanged as the ride continued on. After some more time passed by, you two were back at the base. You grabbed your backpack and got out as Optimus transformed out of his vehicle mode. You looked up at him as he looked down at you, his expression unreadable. You then went on to make your way towards the couch upstairs, but you were stopped once you heard Optimus’ voice once again.

“[Y/N], please take caution on when your assignments are due. I worry that you won’t be able to graduate at this rate.”

There wasn’t much to say at that statement. You just gave him another guilty look and nod before continuing to make your way towards the couch. You could hear Miko tease about you getting attention while Jack told her off. Raf offered help for your homework, but you politely declined. As the trio went down to hang out with the other bots, you stayed at the couch and twirled the pen in between your fingers as you tried to complete your homework. Okay, maybe you did need help. Though, it was too late to ask for any just as you went on to decline it. Your pride got in your way once more. Plus, Raf was having fun with the others and you didn’t want to spoil that. The dark cloud that loomed over your head had yet to disappear but instead, it continued to grow as each second passed by. You furrowed your eyebrows and glared intensely at the equation you were stuck on. If it were possible, there would’ve been a hole going straight through your homework as your stare was that intense. For some goddamn reason, you couldn’t concentrate on anything. Your mind and thoughts kept jumping from the time you got detention to the time you had your ride with Optimus. It was honestly very frustrating and you could blow up with anger at any given second. The sounds of the ‘Bots and your friends having fun at the other side of base didn’t help you either.

Eventually, you tossed the pen on the table and leaned back into the couch. You stared up at the ceiling above you and let out a deep sigh. Ratchet took notice of your sigh and took a brief moment to look at you. You looked utterly exhausted while your eyebrows were still knitted together. The medic raised an optic and questioned you.

“Is there something wrong, [Y/N]? You look like you’re about to fall apart at any second.”

Lazily, you moved your head to the side and looked at him. By now, you were too tired to even give him a weak, reassuring smile. You just had to hope that Ratchet trusted your word. “No worries, everything is under control.” He didn’t believe you.

“Doesn’t look like it. Are you having problems with your homework? Optimus told me about what happened earlier.”

Of course he would know. You were embarrassed once more and looked back up at the ceiling. You sighed once more and nodded your head, telling him that you were having problems. Ratchet let out a small hum and called for Raf. After you heard the mention of the little boy’s name, your body snapped straight up and you looked at Ratchet with panic. Before you could protest, Raf was with you. You meant no ill intent or offense towards the boy, but you couldn’t believe that you were getting help from a 12 year old.

“[Y/N] needs help with their homework.” Ratchet simply says before going back to work.

Raf nods and sits down next to you. “So, what do you need help with?”

Grabbing the sheet of paper in front of you, you showed him what you needed help on. You then stop him before you could begin solving the equation. “It’s not that I don’t know how to solve it. It’s just...it’s kinda hard to concentrate, y’know? I think I’m having one of those days.”

And Raf did understand. Everyone had one of those days where they couldn’t focus. But that didn’t make you stupid. All you wanted to do was spend time with the others, especially Optimus since one, he was your guardian. And two, Decepticon activity has been exceptionally high lately and even though he picks you up from school almost every single day, you still wanted to be with him.

“I understand, but maybe you should take a break before getting back to work. It helps a lot.” Raf suggested but you politely declined. You explained how you wanted to just get everything over with so you could hang out with the others as soon as possible. He wanted to insist, yet he respected your decision. As some time went on, you still couldn’t focus on what was happening. The young boy continued to try to explain to you the equation, but in the end you gave up. Optimus had just finished his duties and returned to the base. He laid his optics upon you and made his way towards you. Now, he could fully see the frustration and irritation written on your face as you aggressively clicked your pen.

“Is something the matter, [Y/N]?” The old Bot asked.

“[Y/N]’s having a hard time concentrating. We haven’t even finished a single problem yet.” Raf answered for you.

“Hmm, I see. [Y/N], get ready. We’re going for a drive.”

You stopped clicking your pen and looked over to Optimus, who was already in his vehicle form. Your shoulders dropped and you tossed the pen back on the table before standing up and stretching your body. You then looked back at the young boy and gave a weak but kind smile. “I’ll be back soon. Just make sure Miko doesn’t spill anything on my homework.” You tell him before waving and making your way back down.

Once you entered the vehicle, he drove his way out of the base and went outside. It was starting to become night time and there was a lovely sunset on the horizon. The gloomy cloud that was now a storm started to drift away from your head and you could feel yourself relax. It was quiet, but you liked it. One of the many things you could appreciate from Optimus was that you two would just have comfortable silences together and you loved it. You tapped on the window and signalled for him to roll it down and once he did, you stuck your head out and rested your chin on top of the door. The breeze nicely hit your face and ran through your hair. Everything was instantly better now. It was quiet for a while, but Optimus finally decided to talk to you after seeing how relaxed you are now.

“It seems that you are calm now. I’m glad that I could be of some use.” He chuckled. “Is there anything on your mind? Anything you want to...vent, as you call it?”

It took a moment for you to reply. You were contemplating on whether to tell him or not. You didn’t want to bring him down with your problems yet then again, you could really vent out right now. And so you did.

“I- um, I don’t know why, but it’s just so difficult for me to focus. I can’t focus in class, on my homework, and I couldn’t even finish a single problem. I’m always so forgetful and even when I set up reminders on my phone and what not, I always forget. I don’t get or understand why. Is there something wrong with me? Am I just dumb?”

At this question, Optimus slowed down and came to a full stop. Thankfully, the two of you were in the middle of nowhere. If he could, he would place you on his shoulder while stargaze under the night sky. Unfortunately, he would be at risk of getting his cover blown.

“You are not dumb. Having trouble focusing or remembering does not make you dumb. But if you truly feel that there is something wrong with you, I highly recommend that you either see Ratchet or another professional. Just know that the Autobots and the other children will be here to support you. I know that things may seem tough right now, but you must trudge through. Things will get better soon, I promise you.”

Just like that, your worries melted away. Optimus has never broken a promise and he doesn’t plan on breaking one any time soon. You know that you can trust him and you’ve taken every one of his words to heart. Nothing else needed to be said as a relieved smile entered your face. You leaned back into the seat and rested the temple of your head against the door before shutting your eyes.

“Thank you, Optimus. Thank you for being here for me.”

“Always, [Y/N].”

#transformers prime #transformers prime x reader #tfp #tfp x reader #optimus prime #bumblebee #arcee #bulkhead #ratchet #miko #jack #raf #reader

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quirklessidiot · 4 years

Text

Title: coward :: choco pies Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu Genre: major angst train ahead, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Synopsis: its been eight years since you first met Miya Atsumu, six years since you broke it off. Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion. Notes: I am super happy by the positive response sIKE thank u so much, i hope yall stay safe in this pandemic!

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“...L/N-san, why aren’t you going to the banquet tonight?”

“I’m busy.” you simply replied to your co-worker, not even looking up from the sheets of finance papers in your hands, your brows furrowing in deep thought as you encircled some mistakes on the paper.

“It's the weekend tomorrow!” Aiko exclaims, shaking you lightly, “You can take your work home and finish it there! This is only held once a year and it's your first year in the company! You can’t miss it!”

You finally turned to your over-enthusiastic office mate and narrowed your eyes, “I can’t miss the grocery sale tonight.” You deadpan. Aiko blinks once then twice and suddenly she bursts out into a boisterous laugh, “Y-You got me there, Y/N.” she says, clutching her stomach.

Your expression remains the same though and it slowly dawned upon your raven-haired office mate that you weren’t joking at all, “Oh, you were serious.” Aiko stops laughing, realizing how stupid she must’ve looked. You return to your work but she continues to stare at you, ever since you entered the company six months ago, you refused to attend any work-related parties or do a lot of overtimes (this wasn’t a surprise, you always managed to finish your work before deadline)

No one really knew you at the office, you had a mysterious air around you and a rather intimidating aura that scared about half of the people in the finance department, oddly enough, Aiko was one of the few who approached you and made conversation. It was more one-sided in Aiko’s part though since your replies were usually curt and to the point.

The only thing scary about you was how blank your expression was ninety percent of the time.

“Can’t you go to the grocery tomorrow?”

“Can’t.” Your voice seemed a bit assertive now, “Those limited choco pie editions are coming out and they sold out pretty quick.”

“Choco pie?” Aiko blinked, “Aren’t you diabetic?”

“It’s for my kids.”

Kids.

Kids?

“What the fuck, Y/N?” she cursed, her eyes as wide as an owl, “My kids? You have kids?”

You hummed a reply, continuing your work, clearly not surprised by her reaction since you were used to these types of things, “Twins actually, they’re in the first grade.” you corrected, remaining indifferent.

“You.” she paused, “You, the Y/N L/N, have kids. Like blood-related kids? With a husband and all that?”

“Yes, although the dad moved on.” You stopped encircling the file, a brief memory of the blonde slowly crossed your mind, “He’s in a better place now.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, per say, your ex was technically in a better place now. He’s a famous pro-volleyball player who represented Japan two years ago in the Olympics and was currently part of the top national teams in the country.

You just didn’t bother correcting them when they thought he’s dead.

“Oh, oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Hm.” You simply hummed a response, “I don’t like leaving them alone a lot.”

“I-I understand,” Aiko sighs, comforting you but it's deaf on your ears as usual, “Have you never considered dating again?”

“Waste of time.”

“Like ever?”

“I’ve got two growing boys, they’re enough for me already.”

Aiko shuts her mouth when she notices that your tone is sharp as if you’re telling her to drop the topic because it’s not in your best interest as of the moment, “May I see what they look like, L/N-san?” she asks in pure curiosity, changing the subject instead.

You simply open your phone next to you and there sits the lockscreen of two wide-grinning and identical-looking boys with raven-colored hair, “They don’t look like you.” she loudly observes but you’re not at all hurt by it.

“They got the best parts from their otosan, I guess.”

The only thing the boys got from you was your eye color, it seemed like they were their father through and through in terms of looks, over-enthusiastic attitude, and love for the sport. In fact, only recently, the youngest twin had expressed his excitement to learn volleyball, the oldest, being the competitive one too, decided to join in and expressed that he had started to truly like it after a class.

Thankfully, your officemate doesn’t pry more about your life. You ended up resuming your work without much disturbance. You try to finish quickly, you have a sale to catch after all.

People often found it odd when you pointed out that you were the mother of Youta and Yuuto, for one, they looked and acted nothing like you. If you had to describe them, it would be balls of sunshine while you were just the gloomy rain clouds looming over them. It was definitely an amusing sight for many when they got to know your dynamic and many wondered how you made it work.

You watched the pair rush down the grocery lane in a hurry as you push the cart filled with essentials needed for this month, Youta was annoying his twin once again as they paced down the snack lane and tried to find the choco pie they’ve been raving about these past two weeks, “Slow down, you’ll fall.” You scolded lightly.

“Hai!” They called out in unison as they went behind one of the shelves, you stopped to take a biscuit off the shelf and read the nutritional facts, keeping an eye out on your boys from time to time. You suddenly felt a presence on your side, were they done taking the choco pie already? Sighing under your breath, you’re getting ready to be fake scared because they loved sneaking up on you but when you feel no tug on your leg, you’re immediately surprised for real by the familiar face in front of you.

“Miya-san?”

You regain your composure almost immediately, not wanting him to notice how tense and scared you were, amongst everyone you had to run into, it had to be the twin brother of your ex, “ Well this is a surprise.” he greets, you could feel the distant tone on his voice and you weren’t phased by it the slightest, after what you did to his other half, you’re surprised he even approached you, “Me and ‘tsumu wondered where the hell you ended up after disappearing on him randomly and breaking up over the phone after a week.”

It wasn’t exactly the best plan but it was the fastest way out.

“I apologize.” You bowed down, you were sincerely sorry about what happened but if you could’ve done it again, you’d do it for the sake of your kids and his career, “Whenever I look back, I knew I could’ve done something better than treat him like that.”

Osamu’s brow quirks up, you were still as calm, cool, and collected as you were six years ago. It was scary how Atsumu fell for you when you were this unphased and cold. What the hell was he on when he fell in love with you?

“Well, thanks to you, he worked himself to the bone.” He shrugs, “He’s got a better life now.”

“I know.”

It may not look like it but from time to time, you’d check up and see how he was doing. Even more so during these days since your boys were getting into volleyball. Youta’s favorite was Hinata since he was one of the small guys in the league and he played very, very well. Ironically, Yuuto’s favorite setter was not his own father but a guy named Kageyama Tobio from the adlers who could set the ball at any place and had the greatest timing ever.

“He’s got a girl too.”

“That’s goo-”

“ ‘Kaasan!” A loud yell bursts out, cutting out the younger Miya twin. Osamu looks around, wondering who the boy was calling but when he realizes it was you, he’s in shock and he doesn’t even hide it. The cold facade he was waving in front of you immediately diminished when two identical looking boys ran to you at a fast speed, one clung onto your leg while the other was tattle-taling.

“Oh, is that Miya Atsumu, ‘kaasan? You didn’t tell me you knew him!” Yuuto points out, staring at the large man in complete awe. Youta who seems to finally notice who the guy was, immediately lets go of your leg and joins in with his twin, completely forgetting about the little spat they have.

“I’m his twin.” he corrects, Osamu wasn’t very good with talking to kids yet they didn’t seem to mind at all, they were still as excited when they realized that he used to play too and was the one who spiked his brothers sets back then.

“Woah,” Yuuto exclaims, “How are you not in volleyball? I betcha as good as him! Mom would comment how good he plays when we watch him on TV and mom hates sports!”

Osamu doesn’t know what to say next, he’s just surprised that you even watched and kept track of his twin brother after all those harsh words you said on the phone, what’s even more surprising was that you were a mom (and someone's wife probably) and you seem to have a good life judging by these kids energetic upkeep.

“...wish we could watch it live though! I heard the adlers and the jackal’s have another game soon!” Yuuto frowns, crossing his arms, “ ‘kaasan’s always busy.”

“How about yer otosan?” Osamu wanted to let that out for a while, he’s very curious to see who you settled down with, according to one of the many stories about you from his twin, you weren’t a big fan of marriage and settling down permanently.

“Oh,” Youta blinks, “Kaasan says otosan’s in a better place now. Do you know what that means, Mister?”

Osamu feels his throat constrict at how casual and nonchalant the boy is, he probably got that characteristic from you. These set of twins dealt with the idea of death way too casually towards a stranger.

“Baby, I think you should give him a rest now. Why don’t you both grab the wafers over there.” You try to calmly take them away in front of the grey-haired man, you didn’t want Osamu to keep interacting with them. There would be breadcrumbs left if the boys kept divulging about their lives towards him, Osamu had always been quick-witted despite his quiet nature.

The boys seemed downcasted right after but they listened quickly and wobbled towards the wafer shelf at the front.

“I thought ya didn’t want to get married.”

“We didn’t,” you blinked, “He was gone before the boys were born, I wasn’t able to tell him.”

Osamu’s eyes narrowed, “You love him or something?”

“I do,” you replied coolly, “Very much so until today.”

“I see,” the grey-haired man was still looking at you, trying to gouge any reaction but you remained the same, “I wish you did the same to my brother.”

“He seems happy and successful now.” was all you could reply to his bitter phrase, “As sorry as I am, I can’t take back what I did. I can only atone and keep moving forward.”

Miya Osamu wants to yell at you because you didn’t see the state his brother was in after you left but he couldn’t bring himself to, after all, it seemed like you were unappalled by him and that his words would mean absolutely nothing.

“Then I hope I don’t see you again, L/N-san.” he spat, putting as much hatred in his words as possible.

“Have a good night, Miya-san.” You simply replied, bowing down.

“I wish you did the same to my brother.”

“Kaasan says otosan is in a better place now.”

“Kaasan, do you think otosan would be proud if I became the super best volleyball player?”

“Stupid, it should be the both of us who’re the best!”

“Yeah! If we became the super best volleyball players, maybe he’d come back from that better place when he sees us on tv!”

You suddenly dropped the plate you were holding, a loud sound resonated in the small kitchen. Shakily, as you picked up the broken shards of the plate, you felt something trickling down your cheeks, “Ah…” you breathed out, wiping out the stray tear.

When was the last time you cried?

“Kaasan?” a small voice called out, you hurriedly wipe out the tears and pick up the broken shards of the plates before turning to the two boys in transformer pajamas.

“Hey.” you tried to reply steadily but the little lump on your throat prevented you from doing so, “Have you brushed your teeth?”

The boys gave each other a quick glance and the only thing they replied with was opening their arms to you, you blink for a moment,surprised by their quietness and their open arms, “When we have a bad day, you’d always do this to us.” Youta mutters, seemingly shy by this, they were never one for big hugs and kisses, saying they were big boys now.

“Did that miya atsumu-fake make you cry, kaasan? Should we get’im?” Yuuto grumbles, their attitude seems to contrast their exciting ones a while ago.

You bend down to their level and just encompassed them in a hug, “Kaasan’s just tired,” you hummed as you buried yourself between them, seeping in the warmth of their hugs and comfort, “I’m all better now, I’ve got you two anyways.”

You placed the small encounter you had with Miya Osamu at the back of your head, not wanting it to be a distraction or a hindrance. You couldn’t cry in front of your kids anymore than that night, you shouldn’t. You were a single parent, the only rock and permanent companion your kids would have for the rest of their lives, you couldn’t let them down.

“L/N-san have you heard?”

Thankfully it was your day-off today and you could pick up the boys earlier than usual. The mom next to you looked more excited and elated, you were betting that this had something to do with gossip around their circles.

“I’m sure she hasn’t, she’s a rather busy mom, akiko-san.” another gushed.

“Ah yes!” she giggled, “Sorry I can’t contain my excitement but Sugawara-sensei is very good friends with a member of the black jackals, apparently he was his kohai back in high school.”

You feel your shoulders tense, it couldn’t be right? The amount of coincidences seemed to hit you like a truck, first osamu, now your kids teacher?

“Ninja Shoyou was it? Yes, well, they’ve decided to host a mini training camp this weekend! All the members would be there! Ah, I hope my boy gets noticed!” Riya grins, “Your boys would be very pumped, right? I personally heard Sensei telling them how natural they seemed to be. They even had their own jerseys made for the class!”

You could only nervously nod along and excuse yourself, you wanted to hurry home and deny your boys to go to this training camp. As much as you supported their love for the sport, you weren’t ready for them to meet him. They loved to blab and if Atsumu were to get wind of them, what would he say?

You didn’t want him to deny them right at their faces.

At the same time, somewhere at an upstate part of the city. Miya Atsumu lays on his bed with a naked woman sprawled next to him. His head’s fuzzy from the alcohol he drank last night and how early he and his partner had finished.

“What the fuck, put some clothes on, ya freak.” He hears his brother curse as soon as he goes out of his bedroom. Osamu would randomly make an appearance in Tokyo to fix up his plans for the franchising of his store.

“Thought you had your own place to crash?” Atsumu ignores his brother’s statement as he grabs a short that had been thrown to the side last night.

“I’m going back later, thought I’d swing by before I went home.”

“How nice of you.” the blonde deadpanned, “You should leave though, Riku’s still here.”

“You don’t say...you lot like to go at it like animals in heat.” he mutters, a look of disgust crossed his features, “I’m just here to drop by some food, I can’t leave you dying.”

“Could’ve left it in the ref and dashed off when you saw the panty on the couch.”

“Again,” Osamu crinkles his nose, “Disgusting. Kita-san would throw some disinfectant at you.”

The blonde rolled his eyes in reply as he grabbed some water by the refrigerator, Osamu watched his brother for a bit, wondering if he should tell him. They’ve never talked about Y/N after that phone call six years ago, he had to walk on eggshells around his brother for a year because of that, taking in a quick breather, he confessed, “I saw Y/N.”

The room turned silent, Osamu waits for a reaction, a curse or anything similar to that yet he’s surprised by the lazy smirk adorning his brother's features, “Hn, it looks like you’re the one who she called and broke up with on the phone.” he laughs.

Osamu is wary but he doesn’t push it, “I was just surprised that’s all, you weren’t exactly in a good place after she left.”

“That was ages ago, ‘samu!” he exclaims, shaking it off, “I betcha she still doesn’t give two shits about me and what happened because that’s how she is but i don’t care because i’m living the life now! I’ve even got a nicer and prettier girl now! Who, mind you, is better than her in many emotional levels. Y/N’s history.”

Osamu didn’t want to tell him about the kids or the ‘man’ you met after Atsumu who you claim to love very dearly so he kept his mouth shut and just went with the flow of the conversation. Not pointing out how his twin just changed the topic right after as if he didn’t want to dwell on it and open anymore wounds.

tag list (closed)

@fortheloveofiwaizumi @svtbitch @ryaaaax @kiyoomile @lovedanii @juno-multifandom @gyubit17

#haikyu!! fanfics #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #atsumu imagines #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #coward series

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Surprise

Characters: Miguel Galindo x black!reader

Summary: Miguel gives his wife a day of surprise. Based on this video and tweet.

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Sorry if the smut sucks, I rushed through it lol.

Miguel leaned against the entryway of the bathroom, watching you carefully apply your mascara. His eyes roamed down to the swell of your breasts. You hadn’t put on your blouse yet because of you not wanting to get makeup on it.

“You’re staring,” you called out your husband when you finally became aware of his heated gaze. “What? Is it a crime to look at my wife?”

“Noooo, but it is a bad idea when both you and I have work to go to.” You took a break from doing your makeup and that’s when you realized that Miguel wasn’t dressed in his usual garb. He had on a simple black tee and jeans, an understated look but he still oozed power. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

Miguel ignored your question and leaned his hip against the counter. “Let’s go shopping, mi amor.”

“Shopping? We can’t go shopping. We both have to work.” What the hell was Miguel thinking? You two did not have the time for that. “What if I told you I cancelled all my meetings today and told your boss you couldn’t come in today?”

That sounded too good to be true. “You’re lying,” you accused in disbelief. “Nope, we’re gonna go to Home Goods. Then we’re gonna go to Target. Sounds good so far?” The mention of Target made you stop what you’re doing and turn to your husband.

“Then we’re gonna get pedicures after.”

“What?” You gasped in shock. It’s been forever since you and Miguel got pedicures together. “Yeah, let’s go get pedicures. Yeah?” After that you closed your mascara, Miguel had your full attention now. “Oh! Mascara shut.” Miguel joked. “And then we’ll go to brunch. You want brunch?”

“Mimosas?” You whispered, already dreaming of the citrusy bubbles on your tongue. “Mmhmm. Order from the whole menu. Chocolate chip pancakes with a river of syrup. Bacon, hash browns.”

“Chicken tendies?” Miguel laughed at your name for chicken strips, you refused to call them by their proper name. “Yes, and chicken tendies.” As Miguel continued to name various foods, your breath got heavier in anticipation.

“And then?” You asked. “Whatever you want to do. Wanna go to Chick-Fil-A? Cookies and cream milkshake?”

“COOKIES AND CREAM MILKSHAKE!?”

“Yeah!” Miguel couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He loved how excited you were and that he was the one making it happen. “So, you wanna go?” It really wasn’t a question, but he just knew your answer would radiate with enthusiasm. “For real? Miguel, you’re not playing?”

Miguel grabbed you by the hips and pulled you towards him. “No, I’m not.” You squealed and jumped in his arms before running to change. “But there is one condition.” He stopped you in your tracks. “What?”

“You have to wear this.” Miguel pulled out a maxi sundress of your favorite color. This man certainly had style. Running you snatched the dress out his hands and began changing. You were too enamored with the dress that you barely heard Miguel tell you to meet him in the driveway when you were done.

As soon as he saw you, Miguel thought a day in the house didn’t sound bad at all, but he had to shove those thoughts away. He had plans for his queen.

“Where’s Nestor?” You looked around for him, Marcus, and some of the others, but none were to be found. “Gave them the day off. It’ll just be you and me.”

It wasn’t Christmas. Both of yours and Miguel’s birthdays had already passed. Your anniversary wasn’t until a couple of more months. “What are you up to?” You eyed Miguel suspiciously. “Nothing. Now get in the car.”

Multiple times during the car ride Miguel thought of pulling over. In the corner of his eye, he would catch you rubbing your thighs together to alleviate some pressure. He listened to how you thought it was so sexy to see a man maneuver a car, but he didn’t think you would get this turned on. Now he would have to make more of an effort to drive around.

His day with you was a blast. At Home Goods he watched your head switch from Pinterest to the different aisles, trying to find the perfect items to complete your diy projects. Target was a bit more dangerous. You went down every aisle and almost bought out the whole store. “We don’t even need this!” Miguel would say whenever you would add whatever unnecessary item to the cart. It didn’t matter though, he still let you get it.

The nail salon was a ball. The nail technicians thought it was so cute that you and Miguel were getting pedicures together. Along with the pedicure you got a manicure. Miguel even picked the shape and color. “I can’t wait to see those wrapped around my dick,” he whispered, enjoying you squirm as the nail tech painted your nails.

Brunch a whole new you came out. This specific restaurant was your favorite because they played the music you loved and had bottomless mimosas. Those two were a bad combination for Miguel’s hard dick, because those lustful glances from you were no accident. And the moans you made when you ate those damn chicken tendies mixed with a little bit of syrup had him sitting uncomfortably for the longest. But then every so often, in between bites you would look to Miguel, smile brightly, and tell him thank you. And just like that he was gushing all over you, ready to give you the moon and the stars.

Miguel opted to get the milkshakes at the drive-thru, but you didn’t mind, you had other plans in mind. However, Miguel surprised you when he went in the other direction of home. “Babe, where are we going?” Miguel grabbed your hand and rested his lips on it. “To your last surprise.” He said, not offering any more information.

About 45 minutes outside of town, an oddly familiar lake house came into view. “Miguel, what is this?” Your husband parked the car and ran to let you out. “This is your house by the lake, not too far from the city because you’ be damned if some Jason Vorhees comes out to kill you and you couldn’t get immediate help. There’s the front porch where you can sit and drink your morning coffee while you watch the sunrise. In the back, you have the deck complete with picnic tables and a master grill, where you can use and abuse your brother’s grilling skills while everyone else is talking, playing games, and dancing. Back here you can have your glass of wine and watch the sunset.” He wrapped his arms around you and jutted his chin to the second story of the home. “In the master bedroom is a window seat where you can get scared from the new horror book you’re reading while drinking your second cup of coffee. And most importantly there’s the dock by the lake, so you can go fishing because you refuse to get on a boat and become a Lake Placid victim.”

Verbatim. Word for word, Miguel described the perfect dream lake house you told him about years ago. It was dream that your dad had at first. He wanted to give his family a getaway spot that was yours to call your own. As your father daughter bonding time, you would search for the perfect candidate but could never find one. Then unfortunately, he passed before he could make that dream come true. In the little spare time you had, you resumed your search in honor of your father, but it was nothing but dead ends.

Tears were running down your face. You couldn’t stop them if you wanted to. “Mi amor, you don’t like it?” Miguel’s concern was growing. He couldn’t decipher if those were happy tears or sad tears. “No, Miguel I love it! I just don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Miguel pulled you into a tighter hug. “Oh honey, I’m the one who doesn’t know how I managed to get and keep you.” He grabbed ahold of your chin, tilting it up so you couldn’t avoid his eyes. “I haven’t been the best husband.”

“Miguel no.” How in the world could he think that? He pressed a finger against your lips. “Shh, let me finish. You barely see me anymore. We literally only say good morning and good night to each other. I’ve been too busy with the rebels and Potter. Plus, there’s the original work I already have. You taken over the development project when you have your own work to do. And you take time out of your day to take my mother to and from her appointments.” You tried to interrupt him, to tell him that it was no big deal, but he stopped you. “Ahh, I’m not finished. You do all this, go through all this trouble and not once have I heard you complain. This isn’t even half of what you deserve. So, no more talk about how you don’t deserve any of this. Entiendes?”

It was a troubling time. Half of the time you didn’t know where you found the energy to get out of bed, but you did. You had to. This was how you keep your family together. “Si.” You brought Miguel’s face closer to yours. There was the faint taste of mimosas still on his tongue. Reluctantly, Miguel pulled away, holding onto your bottom lip til the last possible second. “There are other husbandly duties that I have been neglecting.”

“Is there now?” A crooked smile graced your face. “Mmhmm,” Miguel scooped you up bridal style. “Yeah. I think we should christen the house.” He whispered conspiratorially like you weren’t alone. “I say hell yeah!”

Miguel ran into the house, running up the stairs, leaving a trail of your giggles. Tomorrow you would get the chance to explore more.

Once in the room, Miguel dropped you on the bed, causing you to bounce a little. He shed yours and his clothes in a hurry. To his surprise you weren’t any underwear. “Someone was eager, huh?”

“I had plans to screw you in the back of the car after mimosas.” Miguel took off your bra and tugged a nipple into his mouth. “Good girl.”

While Miguel’s attention was on your nipples yours were on getting his boxers off. His dick sprang free and you wrapped your hand around it. Miguel relished in the feeling of your soft hand around him while he left kisses from your shoulder to your ear. “What are you doing?” He groaned into your ear, slipping in between the two of you, grabbing your wrist to stop your movement. “I thought you wanted to see my nails around your dick?” You whimpered, squirming against him.

“I do, but right now is about you. Do me a favor and suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.” He tapped your fingers against your lips, and you slipped them in, mimicking the motions you wanted to desperately do to his dick. Satisfied with how wet they were, Miguel stuck his fingers in your welcoming hole. “Its so wet and warm, preciosa. I think I can fit another finger in there, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm, daddy.” Miguel added a third finger, bringing a delicious sting. “God, you’re so tight. I bet you taste even better.” Taking his fingers out despite your reluctance, he sucked on them, making you jealous that it wasn’t your mouth on them.

“Tell me what you want, baby. You want me eat that fat ass pussy or you want this cock?”

“Gimme your cock please.” It was no competition. You needed to feel complete and only Miguel’s dick could do that.

He scooted back some to line himself up. You caught a glimpse of his dick and badly wanted to suck it. It should be a crime that all that dick belongs to you.

Miguel slid his cock along your slit, gathering up some wetness. “Baby stop teasing please!” You whined, scratching against his forearms.

He lifted up your left leg to his hip and slid in, giving you those deep lovemaking strokes. “You take me so well, mi amor. Can you handle more?”

“Yes Miguel. Please give me more!” His slow strokes would leave you right on the verge of coming, but never actually getting you there and at this moment you needed to cum more than anything. “More, daddy! Please!” Tears were prickling your eyes.

With his free hand, Miguel swiped away your tears and began to pound into you. “Pretty girl,” he smoothed back some of your hair, his soft words contrasting his rough fucking. “You look like an angel taking my cock so well. You’re gonna be a good girl and cum over daddy’s cock, hmm?”

You nodded your head when you failed to form any words. “Nah, baby girl I need words. Tell me what you want.”

“I WANT TO CUM ALL OVER YOUR COCK!” Miguel was hitting your spot repeatedly. “Okay, pretty baby, then do it,” he whispered, rubbing your clit.

Your body exploded with your orgasm. You were a quivering mess, but Miguel wasn’t through with you, he kept fucking you.

“Where do you want it?” Miguel asked through clenched teeth. “In my mouth, daddy. I wanna taste you.”

Miguel jumped off of you. “On your knees, baby.” Eagerly you got on the ground with your tongue out, enjoying Miguel stroke his glistening cock. “Oh fuck!” He cried out, throwing his head back in ecstasy as his cum filled your mouth.

When he finished, you jumped at the opportunity to clean his cock. “Shitttt! Just like that baby.”

He pulled your head back and laughed at your amused smile. “With skills like that, I’ll give you anything. What else do you want?” He carried you to the bathroom, filling the tub for a nice bath.

“Just you.” You sighed, leaning back on his chest.

“I can definitely do that and more.” Miguel promised to you and himself.

If you like what you read here’s my taglist and masterlist.

Tags: @starrynite7114 @lilsmilez @blessedboo @marvelmaree @sambucky8 @ljstraightnochaser @my-rosegold-soul @angrythingstarlight @richonne4life @brattyfics @lovebennycolon @thesandbeneathmytoes @woahitslucyylu @sadeyesgf @strawberrywritings @angelreyesgirl @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @spookys-girl @imanerdychubbyqueen @brownsugarcoffy @ifoundmyhappythought @thickemadame

#black!reader #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x black!reader #miguel galindo fanfic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfic #mayans #mayans fanfic #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic #danny pino

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

Domesticated

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut, language, some mentions of cheating (but not with the main pairing)

Word Count: 19,922 (I might break this up later on)

Summary: Marriage was something Y/N had been dreaming about since she was a little girl. But now, ten years later, she’s married to her college sweetheart, but their relationship isn’t entirely perfect. There’s the issue of her new boss, aka her ex-boyfriend Seo Changbin, and Chan’s younger brother Felix who insists on calling her Medusa. Yet, through it all, Y/N is positive she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Notes: Y'all are really out here sleeping on husband Bang Chan and I won’t allow it anymore. Because Chan is 100% husband goals.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

I slowly exhaled after disregarding my somewhat passable resume, courtesy of one of those sketchy website builders, to look at the interviewer who waited for my response, pen poised over his expensive notebook. I swallowed hard as I struggled to compose myself under pressure. Because there was a professional answer somewhere in the back of my useless brain, but a dozen other responses, far more honest than his expectations, were waiting on the tip of my tongue.

Such as:

Waiting at home for my husband because all I do is stare at the clock, counting down the minutes until he walks through the door. I kinda miss when we were in college and could see each other sporadically between long lectures, grabbing lunch at the Wendy’s on South Campus. Now, the most exciting thing that happens is the occasional blow job before we pass out on the worn mattress in our master bedroom.

Sometimes Chan will host dinner parties at the house for his expensive doctor friends. He won’t spare me a single glance while I rush to fill glasses with rich-tasting wine, keeping an eye on Han Jisung because he can’t take more than three refills before he’s trying to dismantle the house. I’ll also have to ignore the really old surgeon who Chan admires because he likes to touch my ass when I pass through the living room. Maybe I was suited to be a sugar baby in another life.

On the rare occasion when Chan actually uses his cock, he’ll pant in my ear the entire time because he’s worn out from long hours at the hospital. Chan will cum before me most of the time and I’m lucky if he’s cognizant enough to eat me out so that I can finally fall asleep from my post-orgasmic haze. Heck, I’ll even take his fingers on my clit if it means an assured eight hours of sleep.

Shit, I miss being young.

I cleared my throat, deciding on the professional answer because I highly doubt Seo Enterprises wanted to hire a desperate housewife.

I was sprawled out on the couch in our living room when Chan came home that evening. I barely acknowledged his rushed greeting, watching through narrowed eyes as he ran into the kitchen. “Babe,” came his anticipated whine. “There’s no leftovers?”

“I didn’t feel like cooking,” I said, turning over to bury my face in the throw pillows decorating the cushions. It really wasn’t that comfortable since Chan insisted we get the stiff, fancy leather futon as opposed to the appealing sectional that could actually recline.

“You didn’t cook?”

Chan’s voice was closer this time but I still ignored him, sensing an impending headache. “I had an interview.”

“That was hours ago,” Chan pouted.

I sighed loudly. “The interview went great, honey, thanks for asking.”

“I’ve been at the hospital since 5 this morning,” Chan went on, weight dipping beneath the couch at the opposite end. “I didn’t even have time for lunch because Jisung almost fucked up a patient’s IV.”

“Remind me again why he still has a job.”

“Because he somehow graduated from nursing school and has a license claiming he’s qualified,” Chan said. “Plus, he’s my friend.”

“You have shit taste in friends,” I said, protesting when his hand landed a firm smack against my ass.

“Minho tried to wreck the Corvette when he ran out of cigarettes.”

“Minho is loyal.”

“He still wants to fuck you,” Chan grumped. “Ten years after college and he’s trailing after your ass.”

“Darling, you don’t have to be jealous when I’m wearing your ugly ring on my finger 24/7.”

“It was my mother’s!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Bang Chan,” I snapped while grabbing one of my support pillows from beneath my weight, launching it at my husband’s head. Sadly, Chan dodged at the last minute, much to my chagrin, smirking as he dug his fingers into my sides, forcing loud, high-pitched giggles as we both unceremoniously fell into the spotlessly clean floor. “Channie,” I groaned as he rolled on top of me, pinning my hands above my head before deciding to offer me a sloppy kiss with far too much tongue. “You’re fucking gross,” I said, biting at his lower lip in revenge.

“Yeah? Well, you’re fucking sexy,” Chan purred, nuzzling his head between my breasts.

“Stop it, you oaf!” I grumbled. “My period starts tomorrow. My tits have been sore all day.”

“Maybe I should have a look,” Chan teased, a free hand working loose one of the buttons on my shirt.

“And what good will that do?”

“Well, I am a doctor.”

“You just want to see my tits so you have something to jerk off to in the shower tonight.”

“Shower with me then,” Chan suggested. “I’ll fuck you against the wall.”

“Will you have the stamina?” I questioned. “You poor thing, how can you get it up when you haven’t eaten all day?”

Chan frowned at my mocking tone. “Are you turning down my cock?”

“You’re only half-hard,” I said, lifting my thigh against the tight bulge of his scrubs.

Chan let out a sigh, but his smile was endearing. “What if I order takeout? Then we can fuck in the shower.”

“Channie,” I cooed. “You always know how to talk dirty to me.”

I stand by my belief that email was now an archaic form of communication, but the number of big businesses that forced their employees to make an account @ their company name was ridiculous. But if I wanted to find a job in this big ass city, then I needed to play by the rules. Surprisingly, my most recent application was progressing with far more success than I could have anticipated, and I had read over the new email from Seo Enterprises at least half a dozen times:

Dear Mrs. Bang,

Thank you for taking the time to interview with our staff yesterday afternoon. After carefully reviewing your file with our CEO, he has asked us to schedule one last consultation. Please let us know your earliest convenience.

“That must be a good thing,” Minho remarked, digging his spoon into my ice cream since his bowl was empty and I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him.

“I guess,” I said, formulating a quick reply because I really wanted this fancy, high-paying Secretary job. I mean, sitting at home all day was definitely not high on my list of accomplishments.

“What’s the hurry anyway?” Minho asked as he licked his spoon clean. “Bang has enough money that you could just smooch off him for the rest of your life.”

“That’s not fair,” I said. “I want us to be equals.”

“Wasn’t that the point of marrying a doctor, Y/N?” Minho asked. “Otherwise, you could still be screwing around with me.”

“Except we aren’t 18 anymore,” I pointed out, frowning in his direction. “And says the guy who works part-time at his sister’s pet shop.”

“Hey!” Minho protested, shoving his spoon in my face. “I’m helping the strays. Population control and shit.”

“So what? You’re snipping some dog penises, good for you.”

Minho sat back with a disgruntled sigh. “What do you want to do after this?”

“I’ll bring Chan some lunch since he didn’t get a chance to eat yesterday,” I said. “Interested in accompanying an old friend?”

“Not really,” Minho said. “But I don’t have anything better to do.”

I maintained a long list of places that I truly despised and the hospital was number one. I always tried desperately not to let it show when I visited Chan because it wasn’t really his fault. I had a bad history when it came to hospitals and the memories lingered like the permanent smell of alcohol that Chan brought home with him on his scrubs.

“Did you see that guy in the waiting room?” Minho asked after I checked us in at the front desk. “He was seconds away from bleeding out on the floor.”

“Don’t talk about blood,” I shivered, hurrying to the elevator while frantically hitting the corresponding floor number.

“This reminding you of Freshman year?” Minho asked since he was a total airhead and missed out on the memo where I specifically told him to keep his mouth shut about that stupid Frat Party.

“There are five reasons why I hate hospitals,” I said, holding up my hand in front of his stupid face. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

“Is Freshman year one of them?”

“Shut the hell up, Minho.”

A quiet chuckle resounded through the empty elevator while I impatiently waited for our stop. “You’re feisty today,” Minho remarked once the doors reopened.

I ignored the nasty linoleum floors, heels clicking with every step I took in the direction of Chan’s office. “I’m eating with Chan and then we’re never coming here again.”

“Agreed,” Minho said, keeping pace with me while cringing at the gurneys being pushed through the hallways at an alarming rate.

We had almost made it to the end of the floor when I heard a lazy voice call out my name from one of the surrounding rooms. I closed my eyes because I could recognize that voice anywhere since it basically haunted my worst nightmares. He might not know it yet, but Han Jisung was the last person I wanted to run into because maybe, just maybe, he was one of the five reasons why I hated this place.

“Guys!” Jisung gushed, smiling brilliantly. “I’d hug you but I just finished cleaning piss off the floor.”

“Jesus, Han,” I said, wrinkling my nose against the overpowering smell of ammonia. “Is Chan in his office?”

“He was supposed to meet with our new superintendent,” Jisung said, grinning like a complete idiot when he shoved his gloved hands towards Minho who now looked a few beats away from losing his ice cream.

“You’re really pushing your luck today,” Minho growled at him.

“The meeting room is the last room on the right,” Jisung said, finally proving to be useful for once in his life.

I grabbed Minho’s arm because he was close to decking Jisung in the face and I didn’t need the security guards to tell Chan that I let my best friend attack one of his nurses. “Come on,” I said, urging him away from the potential crime scene.

“He’s this close to finding himself with a bloody nose,” Minho complained. “You know what’s funny? I’m pretty sure Han Jisung wouldn’t even know how to help himself.”

“You’re probably right,” I agreed, straightening the collar of my blouse as I peeked in through the tight blinds obscuring the glass wall of the room Jisung had indicated. “There’s Chan...” I started, trailing off when I noticed that he was engrossed in deep conversation with an unfamiliar woman.

“Oh, she’s really hot,” Minho remarked, wincing when I shoved my elbow into his chest.

“Commentary is not necessary,” I said, folding my arms across my chest as I tapped my foot against the floor. Who the hell did this bitch think she was?

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” Minho teased and I swallowed my pride, trying to ignore the way she reached out to touch Chan’s arm.

Thankfully, Chan finally noticed me outside, offering me a cheesy wave which I refused to reciprocate as he said something to the woman. I waited outside the door, attempting my best stern expression even if Chan completely ignored my efforts, encasing me in his powerful arms. “Y/N,” he cooed.

“Chan,” I choked out, struggling against his strength.

Minho snorted at the display. “I’m going to find the cafeteria. Text me when you wanna leave, Y/N.”

I waved him off once Chan eventually released me. I sucked in a few grateful breaths while holding up the takeout bag I had brought. “Is there somewhere we can go?”

Chan nodded, reaching for my hand. “Sorry I took so long, I was meeting with the new superintendent.”

I pursed my lips at that revelation. “She doesn’t look old enough to be a superintendent.”

“She’s around my age,” Chan said and I frowned because that just made everything worse.

The hospital’s staff room was small, the smell of coffee heavy in the air as Chan closed the door behind us. “Nobody should come in.”

“Good,” I said, choosing the only table that looked halfway clean before sitting down with a sigh. “I brought you lunch.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Chan said, gratefully accepting the bag from me while he sat down on the remaining chair. I glared at him from across the table, watching as he dug into the cheap Japanese like it was his last meal on earth. “Is something wrong?” he asked over a mouthful of noodles. Something college Chan would have never done when we first started dating, but I suppose that’s what you get with marriage.

“I saw you were pretty close with your new superintendent,” I said.

“Oh yeah,” Chan replied cheerfully, stuffing even more food into his impossibly wide mouth. “She’s super smart. Like, Harvard graduate smart.”

“Of course she is,” I murmured. “Do you like her?”

“As a boss I guess,” Chan said, still horribly naive to the real problem. I cathartically drummed my fingernails against the surface of the table.

“Are you coming home early tonight?” I asked him. “I’ll fix your favorite.”

Chan’s eyes lit up because, despite the food sitting right in front of him, he always got excited at the prospect of another meal. “Really?”

I nodded. “I’ll put the good whiskey on ice.”

Chan sat back with a dramatic groan. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Where is all this coming from?”

“I’m just being a good wife,” I said, taking on a dismissive tone.

Chan grinned. “Do you want something, sweetheart? You know I’ll buy you anything.”

“No reason,” I chirped. “I just want you to remember how good am I to you.”

“Of course I know that,” Chan said, reaching across the table to squeeze one of my hands. “I didn’t just marry you for your beautiful face.”

“That’s not what you said when we first met,” I reminded him cheekily, enjoying the way his ears grew red. “Should I do a reenactment?”

“That’s not necessary,” Chan said, quickly dismissing the topic. “Did you hear back from your interview?”

“Oh I did,” I said. “They want me to come in and meet the CEO.”

“What for?” Chan scoffed, returning back to his meal.

“Well, I am taking on the secretary position,” I said. “Maybe he wants to make sure I have good phone etiquette.”

“Yeah?” Chan grumbled. “Or, he wants to make sure you look pretty for him so he has something nice to look at all day.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked him because I loved it when Chan got possessive.

“I don’t want some rich bastard drooling over my wife,” Chan said, chopsticks clenched tightly between his fingers.

“Yeah? Well, it works both ways, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, Chan,” I sighed. “Your superintendent was totally flirting with you.”

Chan put down his chopsticks, eyeing me cluelessly. “No, she wasn’t.”

“Yes, she was,” I immediately countered, reaching down for my purse. “I watched her the entire time.”

“Were you spying on me?” Chan asked with a smirk.

“Minho’s probably waiting for me,” I replied instead, smoothing down my skirt as I stood up from the table.

“Don’t you think that’s too short?” Chan asked, pointing at my lower section as if personally offended.

“Work hard, honey,” I grinned, leaning over the table to peck him once on the lips, offering a cheeky wave on my way out the door.

My palms were sweaty and, despite my repeated attempts to wipe off the nasty residue on my skirt, the condition persisted. Hyperhidrosis, Chan might tell me, nerdy glasses falling down his nose. I grinned at a distant memory, one of the first dates I ever had with Chan. A younger, less confident version of my husband, frantically peeling his suit jacket from his body, complaining about the heat in the restaurant, only to cower moments later when he realized his armpits were totally drenched.

“Mrs. Bang?”

I looked up at the young man bowing in front of me. “Mr. Seo will see you now.”

I nodded, holding my tongue before I let the intern know that he sounded just like a passage from Fifty Shades of Gray. Oh, shit, what if I was about to meet Christian Gray in the flesh? Some sort of young, hot billionaire with the world at his feet, buying up other companies like they meant absolutely nothing.

It was a believable scenario, and I don’t know how I managed to get my feet to work, but I followed the intern with exaggerated steps. “The boss has been looking forward to this,” the intern told me, pausing outside the office door.

“He has?” I wondered, glancing around the grandiose lobby. Did I really make that much of an impression?

“You can go in now,” the intern smiled, politely holding the door for me as I wordlessly walked inside.

Of course, I was expecting something extravagant, considering the layout of the lobby, but I was still deeply impressed by the spacious, but oddly cozy interior. Could you really call this room an office? Considering how massive it was in size. I mean, was it really necessary to basically live in an apartment when you arrived to work every day? Complete with stylish hardwood floors that looked like something out of an edition of House and Home magazine. I’d bet my entire life’s savings that the CEO hired some kind of fancy architect to design the place because those engravings on the mahogany walls were quite difficult to achieve. “It’s nice isn’t it?” a disarmingly familiar voice asked, and I found the dark figure leaning against the desk in the center of the room, sleeves rolled up to show off his impressive arms. “I was surprised to see your application, Y/N.”

Fuck, Christian Grey would have been way better.

“Changbin?”

He met me halfway across the room, now completely visible beneath the low hanging lights, tan skin washed with a comfortable glow. “Shocked?”

“You could say that,” I said, suddenly feeling like I was 18 again in college, lusting after the object of my affections.

“Have a seat,” Changbin offered kindly, extending his arm towards the matching armchairs neatly tucked around the electric fireplace.

“Okay,” I nodded, unable to take my eyes off Seo Changbin as I stumbled over my heels like a complete lovestruck teenager meeting her musician idol for the very first time.

But, holy fuck, Changbin looked good. Why the hell did he not age or turn prematurely gray? I held back a whimper, eyes looking everywhere around the room except at Seo Changbin. How did I not put two and two together when I first got the notification for the Secretary position at Seo Enterprises? I mean, what are the chances that this Seo is my Seo...Or, at least, he used to be my Seo.

“Y/N,” Changbin said, flipping through my file with lazy movements. Where did he get those pants from? They fit him sinfully good, hugging his thighs and if I look close enough, the outline of his...“How are you?”

I startled at the question, drawing my eyes up to meet Changbin’s familiar gaze. “Oh, I’m uh..” I trailed off anxiously, trying to put meaningful words together because he was making the English language harder than it needed to be. “I’ve been alright.”

Changbin smiled and I crossed my legs because that kind of smile could literally drench a girl if he wasn’t careful. “I was really happy to see your name on my list.”

“Were you?” I asked, fingers digging into the cushion of my chair.

“I’m always happy to see a familiar face,” Changbin said. “It’s been a while.”

“College,” I choked out, completely out of mind with anxiety, like the time Minho stole my phone and made me think someone had stolen it, even encouraging me to call the number only for him to hang up every time.

“You’re still beautiful.”

“Changbin...”

“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s all in the past.”

“That’s right,” I said, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to snatch my resume out of Changbin’s veiny hands and flee the premises.

“And you’ve married Bang,” Changbin said, pointing to my wedding band. “Which isn’t surprising.”

“Five years,” I said, trying my best to think about Chan and only Chan despite the literal embodiment of my every erotic high school fantasy sitting right in front of me.

“This would be strictly professional,” Changbin said, holding up my resume. “You were our best applicant, but I thought you should know everything about this place before taking the position. Including me.”

“Is that so?” was all I could think to say in return to his unexpectedly thoughtful comment.

Changbin lowered my resume slowly. “The job is yours, Y/N.”

“I’d still have to talk to Chan first,” I said because there’s no way I could just start working for Changbin without Chan knowing everything about the situation. Unfortunately, I could just about anticipate Chan’s response.

“That’s fine,” Changbin agreed. “You can call us tomorrow.”

I allowed a shaky nod, wondering if Changbin knew how much of an effect he still had on me all these years later.

Chan might be one of the smartest men I know, but he was, at his core, just a man who was quite whipped for his wife. Like all men, he was a sucker for lingerie, which is why I slipped on my best matching set, squeezing myself in the little black dress that I knew he really loved.

The hem barely touched the middle of my thighs.

I was also cooking his favorite meal, the smell filling the kitchen pleasantly as I stood at the stove. My plan was quite simple: dress pretty for Chan and surprise him with his favorite food to soften him up. Maybe then he wouldn’t have a complete meltdown when I broke the news to him about my newest employer.

But I still shivered when I heard the door open. “Y/N!”

“I’m in the kitchen,” I called back to him, attempting several meditative breaths to try and keep myself together.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, freezing in the doorway as he undoubtedly took in the sight of his wife wrapped in a tight black number.

“I’m making dinner,” I said, flashing him an arrogant smile, amused by the way he openly gaped at me while still wearing his oversized doctor’s coat. A result of an excited, freshly employed Chan filling out his form request with sloppy handwriting.

“You look hot,” Chan told me bluntly, eyes glued to my body as he eliminated the space between us with a few quick-paced steps.

“I got the job,” I said, letting out a nervous giggle as I continued to push around the searing bulgogi with a shaky hand. “Consider this a celebration.”

“That’s great, sweetie,” Chan said, standing behind me to wrap his arms around my middle, pressing soft kisses to the back of my neck, roaming hands feeling my body. “I guess the CEO liked you.”

A hellish double entendre. “Yeah, he was really nice.”

“I’m glad it worked out,” Chan said, voice next to my ear. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to get a job or anything. I’m proud of you no matter what.”

Was it his intention to make me feel guilty? “Channie,” I sighed, turning around in his arms. “I have to tell you something.”

Chan cocked a brow. “What is it?”

“The company I’m working for...”

“Yeah?”

“The CEO is someone we know.”

“Is that it?” Chan chuckled, accent thick as those adorable dimples filled out his smile. “Who is it, babe?”

“He used to go to school with us,” I tried, hoping that maybe Chan could just learn how to read my mind and save me the effort of mustering some kind of courage.

“Minho?” Chan teased.

“We’re not exactly friendly with him,” I said.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but I’m not exactly friendly with Minho.”

“You jerk,” I huffed, half-heartedly pushing against his chest. “You really, really don’t like this person.”

“There aren’t many people I really, really don’t like,” Chan said. “Come on, Y/N, just tell me who it is. Are you afraid I’ll be upset with you?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Chan’s smile vanished in a minute. “Y/N.”

“Seo Enterprises,” I said. “The company name.”

Realization dawned across Chan’s face. “Are you saying...”

“Changbin,” I murmured, looking down at my feet. “He’s my new boss.”

Chan let out a rough exhale because he knew exactly who Seo Changbin was and I’m pretty sure he associated the name with deep hatred. “Are you fucking serious?”

I winced at Chan’s tone because he had quickly shifted from sweet, caring husband to angry, sinister Mr. Bang in the blink of an eye. “Yes?”

“The Seo Changbin,” Chan reiterated. “The guy you fucked for like six months Freshman year?”

“That would be the one,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze before immediately regretting the decision.

“Why the hell would you take a job as his Secretary?” Chan demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Normally, I would admire the sight of Chan’s arms stretching the thin fabric of his t-shirt, but now I was just intimidated.

“Because I really wanted the job,” I said. “And I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s a huge fucking deal,” Chan said, glaring down at me. “You think I’m okay with the idea of you working for someone you once told me you were, and I quote, definitely gonna marry?”

“But I’m married to you,” I tried, attempting a sugary-sweet tone that usually broke Chan’s resolve.

Except for tonight.

“Yeah,” Chan nodded, “You are, and I told you I would take care of you. I have enough money to support both of us, you don’t need to work at all.”

“Chan, you know I’m not comfortable sitting at home,” I said.

“I get that, Y/N, but Seo Changbin? I could get you a Secretary job at the hospital.”

“Channie, this is a position at Seo Enterprises. One of their biggest assets is New York Publishers! It’s like the perfect opportunity to get my foot in the door.”

“Y/N,” Chan groaned. “I can’t stand the thought of you working for Changbin under any circumstances.”

“I get it, Chan,” I said. “But it’s different than college. I’m married now, and Changbin is nothing more than my boss.”

“Does he really get that?” Chan asked. “I’m putting my foot down, Y/N. I don’t want you working for him, okay? You can call them tomorrow and say you’ve got something better.”

“But Channie!”

“No, Y/N,” Chan growled. “You can look for something else.”

I frowned once I realized Chan wasn’t going to back down. It didn’t matter that I wanted the job or that I had dressed up and cooked for him. For the first time since we met, Chan was refusing to give me what I wanted. “Chan, you really don’t have the right to tell me what to do.”

“I’m your husband,” Chan said, justifying his unfair demands with such patriarchal reasoning.

“Fine,” I muttered darkly, ignoring the way his hand reached out for mine.

“Don’t be this way,” Chan said, following me as I marched to our bedroom, slamming the door closed behind me. “Y/N!” Chan shouted against the door, knocking loudly on the wood. “This is my room too!”

“Not tonight,” I informed him tersely, opening the door only to harshly shove a spare blanket and pillow at his chest. “Goodnight, darling.”

“This is Y/N,” I said into the phone. “I’m calling about-”

“One moment, Mrs. Bang, we can transfer you to Mr. Seo right away.”

“But you don’t understand...”

“Hello?”

“Changbin!” I squealed loudly into the phone, wincing at my shrill tone.

“Y/N,” Changbin said pleasantly, voice as deep and gravelly as I remembered. “Is this the phone call I’ve been waiting for?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, making myself comfortable at the kitchen counter since I was a notorious pacer when it came to difficult conversations. “It depends on what you’re expecting.”

“I’m expecting to hear a confirmation,” Changbin said. “This is a perfect position for someone with your qualifications.”

“I know,” I groaned. “But I’m calling because I can’t take the job.”

“Really?” Changbin asked. “Can I ask why?”

“Chan isn’t comfortable with the idea,” I said.

“Is that so?” Changbin inquired, innocently enough. “I hope it isn’t because of college.”

“T-that’s not entirely why,” I stuttered because Changbin was apparently intuitive now that he owned some big, fancy company.

“I hope not,” Changbin said. ��It wouldn’t be fair of Chan to keep you from a potential opportunity because of something like that.”

“It’s just a lot right now,” I said. “I haven’t had a job in a year. My last position was really good, but the company went bankrupt and I was laid off, so I’m just trying to be careful.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about anything like that here, Y/N,” Changbin said. “This is a great opportunity for someone looking for a fresh start.”

Did he read my Facebook bio?

“I’m sure it is, Changbin, but I can’t do something that would make Chan uncomfortable.”

“But he’s not the one taking the position,” Changbin pointed out. “I can assure you, Y/N, you won’t find another position like this.”

“God, you’re good at negotiating.”

“Take the job, Y/N. I promise you won’t regret it.”

I could blame it on my desperation later, but I actually really liked the position. It promised a lot, especially considering the publishing company attached to Seo Enterprises. That would be my ultimate goal, to spend my days reading promising manuscripts while sipping expensive Starbucks coffee.

“I guess I can’t say no.”

“Then I’ll see you on Monday.”

Message to Channie

I took the job. I’m sorry but the opportunity was hard to pass up.

It only took a few seconds for Chan’s contact name to flash across my screen with an incoming call. I muted the sound like a coward, ignoring him completely while I started the ignition to the Corvette. A one-year anniversary present from Chan who was somehow more excited than I was when he first handed me the car key.

I drove to Minho’s apartment because I didn’t want to go home and I really had nowhere else to go. Plus, at least Minho was a reliable friend who really didn’t care if I crashed on his couch while he shoved cheap wine down my throat. In fact, Minho might be glad to see me since he was constantly complaining about his new hours at the shop.

“You look like shit,” Minho commented when he answered the door, standing aside to invite me inside. I shrugged off my coat, tossing it against the wall before slumping down onto the cheap sofa in Minho’s living room. The only piece of furniture he could afford in his ridiculously small New York apartment. “What happened?”

“I took the job with Changbin.”

Minho’s eyes widened in surprise. “You did? I can only assume Chan is lying somewhere on his deathbed.”

“No,” I snorted. “I took the job even though Chan asked me not to.”

“Savage,” Minho exhaled and I rolled my eyes at him.

“It’s a great opportunity!”

“When do you start?” Minho asked, feet propped up in my lap as he made himself more than comfortable next to me.

“Monday morning,” I said, mindlessly taking the remote to scroll through his limited TV channels.

“And Chan is mad?” Minho repeated, glancing at me for confirmation. “Can you really blame him though?”

“Why?” I frowned.

“I mean, Chan’s been in love with you since high school. He used to trail after you all the time, but you only talked about Seo Changbin.”

“You’re not being a good friend right now,” I said, remembering with perfect clarity the image of a sixteen-year-old Chan, hair untamed and clothes mismatched. Chan was a constant presence in my life, even if I preened after another boy who certainly had no intention of remaining faithful.

“Go home to him, Y/N,” Minho said with far more seriousness than I was used to hearing from my still immature best friend. The same Minho who couldn’t find work for an entire year after graduation because he was too busy sleeping with any woman that walked on two legs, living with various girlfriends while slowly draining his savings account.

“Since when are you the voice of reason?” I grumbled.

“Well, we all have to grow up one day.”

I hated the rare occasions when he was right.

The house was eerily silent when I unlocked the door, spotlessly clean just as I had left it which made me feel bad because it meant Chan didn’t even try to eat anything. “You always make me worry,” I muttered, toeing off my shoes as I decided to check the bedroom.

When Chan had first bought the house, he wanted it to look as close as possible to the random design I had pointed out at the local fair when we were Sophomore students. The plaque had deemed it the “house of the future” and I was enamored with the idea of the future back when my whole life was waiting right in front of me. A big dreamer who was already making wedding plans the moment Chan got down on one knee and proposed with his mother’s wedding ring.

“Channie,” I whispered into the darkness, cautiously tiptoeing my way to the side of the bed where Chan was facing away from me, sheets tucked in around his waist to leave his chest exposed. “I’m sorry.”

Chan let out a sigh. “What are you sorry for, Y/N?”

“I hurt you,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I took the job with Changbin and I didn’t think about how it would affect you.”

“I fucking hate him,” Chan said, tone bitter and laced with venom. “I hate what he did to you Freshman year and I hate that he was the first person you loved.”

“Chan,” I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I was really young and stupid back then. I should have never slept with Changbin. But he was just a fantasy, even when we were together, and I certainly never really loved him.” I leaned in closer, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “I’ve always loved you first. You mean the world to me and I’m sorry that I went behind your back to work for Changbin. But he’s definitely nothing more than a mistake from a past full of them. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Chan shifted from next to me, rolling onto his back. His eyes were looking at me like I was literally his entire world. “I’ll always worry, sweetie. You drive me insane these days.”

I grinned at the use of his pet name for me, reaching out to run a soothing hand along the defined lines of his stomach. “Don’t worry about me, darling, when you’re the one with a supermodel for a boss.”

“Fuck, we’re both screwed,” Chan said. “Does she drive you mad with jealousy?”

“Of course she does,” I said. “She has bigger tits than me.”

“Well, I like your tits,” Chan insisted. “Don’t even think about bringing up plastic surgery again.”

“It would be to your benefit,” I pointed out.

“And the detriment to my savings account. Plus, I don’t want some old bastard fondling your tits while he pumps silicone in your chest.”

“Of all the things to worry about,” I sighed. “Does this mean we’re okay again?”

“You could probably step on me and I would still thank you for it, sweetie.”

“What if I sit on it instead?” I asked, moving my hand down to squeeze his flaccid cock.

“Makeup sex?” Chan gasped. “You don’t have to sell yourself out like this, babe.”

“Yeah? Well, I want to,” I said while proceeding to straddle his waist, smirking when Chan’s hands instantly moved to my hips. It was almost like a magnet, the reaction automatic after years of marriage. “You’re already hard,” I teased, reaching back to palm him over the sheets.

Chan always slept in boxers which I certainly appreciated because it made the rare nights of our passionate lovemaking even more accessible. Chan lifted my shirt, groaning low when he saw that I was wearing nothing but a pair of satin panties. “This is why I’m already hard.”

“You don’t see me walking around the house in underwear,” I quipped playfully.

“It’s comfortable,” Chan whimpered, moaning when my hand found the smooth velvety head of his cock.

“Something you never did when we were dating,” I said. “I spent weekends with you in the apartment.”

“Wanted to make a good impression,” Chan grumbled, eyes closed as he rolled his hips in time with my careful strokes.

“So you don’t have to impress me anymore,” I said, glancing back at his cock, hot and heavy in my hand. “But I guess you still do.”

Chan moaned even louder at my words, fingers tightening in my wrinkled shirt. “Don’t make me cum yet.”

“Why not, darling?” I asked him cheekily, twisting my wrist just right, watching as a stuttered gasp fell from between his gorgeous pout.

“Wanna cum inside,” he said, biceps straining as he pulled me closer, kissing me with a desperation that only demonstrated just how gone he really was.

“Yeah?” I smirked, tongue tracing the ridges of his full lips. “I guess you deserve it after putting up with my bullshit all day.”

Chan nodded fervently and the sight was oddly endearing. It reminded me of when Chan and I first met in high school, a nerdy sixteen-year-old boy who had just transferred schools all the way from Australia. He had a thick accent, foreign and rich, just like the untamed mass of curls covering his deep brown eyes. Chan wore thick-rimmed glasses and he had a light dusting of freckles like the main character from Freckle Juice, one of my favorite childhood novels. He was nerdy and shy, sitting alone in the cafeteria at lunch and walking between classes with his shoulders hunched like he was afraid one of those horrible jocks would try to steal his bag again.

“Y/N!” he whined loudly, forcing me out of the memory.

“Alright, Channie, you want inside?”

I sat up on my knees to work down my panties, ignoring the way Chan’s fingers tried to interfere, pulling at the fabric like he could possibly make them disappear any faster. I grabbed the hem of his boxer shorts, teasingly pulling them down his thighs before brushing a kiss across the weeping tip of his cock, precum bitter on my tongue. For a moment, I admired his thick erection, remembering how nervous Chan was the very first time we had sex back before we were even old enough to drink alcohol.

I held his cock as I positioned myself over his lap. “I’ll do all the work tonight,” I said, listening to Chan’s sweet moans the entire time I slowly lowered myself onto his cock, enjoying the way he always filled me so deeply.

“Oh yeah, sweetie,” Chan grunted, hips moving messily as he tried to find a rhythm. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

“Really?” I asked, swallowing down a moan when Chan hit just right, movements growing more and more confident as I returned every thrust. “I thought I was in charge tonight.”

Chan’s hands gripped my waist firmly, eyes wide open as he focused on where we were connected. “I’m always in charge.”

“Definitely,” I said, bracing my hands against his firm chest for balance because I was weak for this version of Chan. A complete contradiction to the one I first started dating, sweetly doting as he did everything in his power to make me happy. An image of a beautifully innocent Chan looking up from his position between my thighs. “It’s good?”

“So good,” I whispered aloud, peppering kisses across the pale expanse of Chan’s creamy skin, laving my tongue against a sensitive nipple which forced a temporary break from his regular tempo.

“Don’t play dirty, sweetie,” Chan said, giving me no warning before he was pushing me onto my back, hovering over me with his irresistible bedroom eyes. His hands spread my thighs wide, giving himself more room to fuck inside, movements growing faster with every step closer to what was beginning to feel like an intense orgasm. I’m talking about the kind that I could feel between my legs for days after I tried to walk straight again. “Do I need to touch you?”

“Fuck, I think you’re doing just fine,” I said. “Where the hell did this come from?”

“You woke up my competitive side,” Chan said, hitting deep like we were suddenly 20-years-old again sneaking quickies between lectures. Back then, Chan could literally fuck me against a wall, my legs wrapped around his gorgeous hips while he knocked the breath out of my lungs. Thank god, Chan decided that college would be his glory years, working out aggressively in the gym until he had muscles filling out the places where he had previously been soft. But I would always miss his pudgy stomach, even if his ass was now something out of a porn magazine.

“Well fuck,” I moaned. “I’ll have to do this more often.”

“I’d do it all the time if I wasn’t working until 3 in the morning at the hospital,” Chan said.

“Good point, should I come in at lunch then? You can lock us in one of the empty rooms.”

“Oh shit, sweetie, you shouldn’t talk that way,” Chan growled and it was one of the sexiest sounds I had ever heard.

“I’m close,” I warned him, digging my fingers in his scalp as his teeth teased against my collarbone.

“Me too,” he said, breaths uneven as he punctuated his words with a series of harsh ruts that sent my eyes rolling into the back of my skull. His fingers found my clit, thumb pressing down hard enough to trigger one of the best orgasms I had experienced in a long time.

I tightened around his stuttering cock, moaning when I could feel his cum deep inside, warm and wet. “Shit, you’re so good at that.”

Chan pulled out slowly, eyes growing wide at the sight of his cum leaking down my ass. “Left a fucking mess though.”

“We can shower later,” I said, grabbing his arm to encourage him to lie down next to me, burying my face against his chest, scarlet-red from the exertion.

“Was the dick that good?” Chan teased, running his fingers soothingly along my spine.

“Your dick is that good,” I replied. “The genetics are strong.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my parents,” Chan said, giggling as I shot him a warning glare. “I love you, sweetie.”

“Mmm, I love you more.”

1 Week Later

Lee Felix is the spawn of the devil and nobody could convince me otherwise. Because ever since we first met, when Chan invited me over to his house for a project, Felix had decided that I was his number one enemy, deeming me “Medusa” because he was enamored with Greek Mythology. But the unfortunate nickname had stuck throughout the years, even when Felix visited our college between breaks, forcing me to sleep on the couch while he shared the bed with his step-brother.

Recently, Felix had just finished his Master’s program for some kind of fancy Philosophy degree that would probably do him absolutely no good in the real world. But Chan was proud of his baby brother, inviting him to stay with us after graduation until Felix could stand on his own two feet. The decision was met by my instantaneous protest leading to an argument that I inevitably lost because Chan was still using Changbin as a winning point. However, even before my employment with Seo Enterprises, Felix was the cause of at least 95% of our arguments and I was not exaggerating in the slightest.

The sound of the doorbell ringing was suddenly a lot louder than I remember. “Death is here,” I said solemnly, ignoring the way Chan scoffed at my claim. I followed behind him somberly as he opened the door, letting out an excited cheer when he saw Felix waiting on the other side. Felix dropped his bag and practically screamed, which would likely wake up the entire neighborhood, jumping into his brother’s arm as the two embraced right in the middle of my foyer.

“Could you be any louder?” I snarled at the younger Bang.

“Maybe I could, Medusa,” Felix shot back, eyes narrowed as he picked up his bag.

“Come on, Felix,” Chan said, nodding at the kitchen. “I bet you’re hungry.”

Felix nodded, putting on his best smile for his ignorant brother, shoving his bag harshly at my chest as he walked by. “You can take care of that for me, right Medusa?”

“You little bitch,” I muttered, meeting his glare with one of my own.

The only thing worse than going out with Felix was including Han Jisung in the equation. For whatever reason, Jisung and Felix always riled each other up, chugging down alcohol like it was fucking water or something. However, Felix wanted to see Jisung again and Chan never said no to his little brother. This is why I was currently seated next to Chan at a cheesy bar in downtown Harlem, listening to Felix and Jisung try to talk over one another as Chan looked on with fond eyes. The only good part of the night was the fact that even Chan had allowed himself to get a little tipsy which meant he was doing his absolute best to feel me up in public. I always found it amusing, knocking his hand away when his eager fingers started to trail up my skirt.

“Felix,” Jisung whined. “How can you say that?”

“Oi, there’s no way you can put Nickleback and Green Day in the same fucking category.”

I rolled my eyes at the stupid argument, smacking Chan’s hand when he started to finger the waistband of my skirt. “Chan!” Jisung pouted. “Tell him that he’s wrong.”

“Tell the philosophy major that he’s wrong?” Chan asked, accent on full display as he reached out to playfully ruffle Felix’s hair. “You can’t even answer the phone at the receptionist’s desk.”

Felix loved the attention and I hated it when he came over only to occupy Chan’s every waking hour with his never-ending thirst for affection. But I wasn’t going to let him get away with it tonight. I cleared my throat, stretching my arms back behind my head because I knew how good it would make my breasts look in the rather low-cut shirt I had chosen for tonight’s affair. I glanced over at Chan, smiling victoriously when I saw the way his eyes had glued themselves to my chest. Even Han Jisung was looking, which would normally annoy me to no end, but I was putting on my best behavior tonight. “Chan!” Felix shouted, trying to regain his brother’s attention. “Did you hear that I scored the highest honors on my research project?”

And just like that, Chan’s attention was redirected to Satan, eyes glowing with pride. “That’s amazing, Felix!”

“I can tell you all about it,” Felix said arrogantly, tossing me a cocky smile which left me absolutely incensed. “The board was so impressed, they offered to publish my results in the University’s magazine.”

“Are you serious, Felix?” Jisung asked which was an even bigger blow because the only two things occupying Jisung’s thoughts were women and alcohol.

So I decided to push my luck, tugging down my skirt before shifting over in the booth to plant myself directly on Chan’s lap, wrapping my arms around his neck before nuzzling into his warm chest. “Channie,” I cooed while glaring at Felix from the corner of my eye.

“Do you want something, sweetie?” Chan asked, smile blinding as one hand wrapped around my waist, leaving the other to tease the bare skin of my thighs.

I reached for Chan’s beer, shoving the glass at him because nothing made Chan hornier than thighs and alcohol. “Should I come to see you at work tomorrow? Like we talked about before?”

Chan’s eyes lit with recognition and I smirked victoriously when I felt him grow hard in his tight jeans. “I’d really like that.”

And to seal my victory, I leaned forward to kiss my intoxicated husband, ignoring the sloppy way he reciprocated, breath musty with the taste of beer. Felix growled lowly from across the booth and Jisung let out a wolf whistle at our blatant display. But I was on cloud nine, satisfied to have won Chan’s attention because it meant Felix was going to be quite unhappy for the rest of the night.

“Medusa, aren’t you going to make me breakfast?”

I groaned as I glanced over at the alarm clock which informed me that it was only 9:00 AM. “Fuck, Felix, go back to sleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” he whined, reaching across the bed to tug on my arm.

“It’s Saturday,” I hissed, barely clinging to the wonderful promise of more sleep which would do wonders for my hungover state.

“Chan wouldn’t be happy with you,” Felix reminded me. “Should I call him at work?”

“Get out of here you little maggot,” I snapped. “I’ll fix you some damn breakfast.”

“Now!” Felix ordered like he had every right to make demands of me, but I didn’t want Felix to say anything to Chan because that would only lead to another needless argument.

“You’re a fucking menace,” I said, throwing off my bedsheets while briefly mourning the loss of my precious sleep. But I don’t want anyone to ever say that I was a bad wife, especially when I put up with Lee Felix just to make Chan happy.

Felix was already seated at the counter when I finally drug myself out of my bedroom, groggily reaching for a clean pan from the cabinet. “You get eggs and bacon,” I told him. “I’m not a gourmet chef.”

“Whatever,” Felix said, ignoring me completely in exchange for his cell phone. Which Chan was now paying for to help “lessen Felix’s financial burden.”

“Chan,” I remember telling him. “You’ll spoil him if you keep doing things like that. He’ll never want to leave!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Chan had shot back as if the idea of living with his younger brother for the rest of our married life was perfectly acceptable.

“A million things,” I muttered now, cracking one of the eggs against the side of the pan.

“I hear you’re working for Seo Changbin,” Felix abruptly spoke up, and I could practically feel his eyes on me. “He cheated on you, right?”

“It’s really none of your business,” I informed him brusquely, grabbing a spatula while wondering if I could teach Felix a lesson if I hit him a few times.

“My brother isn’t happy,” Felix continued as if my warning meant nothing to him. Probably because it didn’t. “I think it’s a bad idea, but your satisfaction always comes first, right?”

“Why the fuck did Chan tell you this?” I gritted out while aggressively slamming the fridge closed, pack of bacon gripped tightly in my hand.

“He tells me everything,” Felix said smartly. “Because he trusts me.”

“Good for you,” I huffed over my shoulder. “I’m glad you have such a close relationship with your brother.”

“Jealous?” Felix taunted, expression smug when I roughly placed down a glass in front of him.

“Is orange juice, okay?” I asked him in a faux sweet voice.

“It’s fine,” Felix shrugged. “But whatever is most inconvenient for you.”

“What a sweet little boy you are,” I said, pouring him a generous amount. “How long do you plan on staying here?”

“Chan says I can stay for as long as I want,” Felix said, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“Of course not,” I muttered. “Two Bangs are better than one.”

“That’s right,” Felix said brightly, taking a sip from his glass. “Ugh, does this have pulp in it?”

“Drink your fucking orange juice, Felix!”

The invention of video games was a godsend because they could occupy Felix’s attention for hours, leaving me in relative peace as I tried not to let him destroy every last bit of my resolve. I was currently having a bath alone in the sanctity of my bathroom, shoulder-deep in soothing bath salts which I kept well-stocked in the cabinet underneath the sink. The aroma was pleasant, sending me to a place somewhere far away to where Felix’s were strictly prohibited.

For the entirety of the day, Felix had been doing his best to get on my nerves. I cooked him breakfast and lunch, cleaned his disgusting laundry, and even held my tongue when he requested I drive him to the mattress store because the guest bedroom was unsatisfactory. But it had always been like this between us, ever since the day I first met Felix and tried my best to make a good impression. Unfortunately, Felix idolized his older brother, deeming any girl unworthy of his time and efforts, including myself. Of course, above anyone else, Felix thought I was the worst possible choice, reminding me every second that his brother deserved someone smarter, richer, and prettier.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated loudly on the edge of the bathtub and I hesitantly glanced at the screen, half-expecting to see Felix’s name displayed like a caution sign. Surprisingly, it was Chan who had sent me a message to ask where I was, which meant Felix had lied through his teeth and said I’d gone somewhere.

To Channie

Bathroom.

It was only a moment or two later when the door opened and Chan stuck his head inside, offering me a pleasant smile as he locked the door behind him. “You’re home early,” I remarked, vacantly staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s Saturday night,” Chan reminded me. “I thought the three of us could go out to eat.”

I groaned in protest. “What about takeout?”

“You love going out,” Chan said. “I’ll even let you pick the restaurant.”

“I have way too many problems right now,” I said. “I’m avoiding them by staying in the water for as long as I can.”

“Sweetie,” Chan said, taking a step closer. “You should’ve waited for me.”

“Why?” I asked him airily. “You’re one of those problems.”

“Me?” Chan asked, choosing to sit down on the edge of the tub. “What did I do wrong?”

“No arguments tonight,” I said, letting out a deep sigh. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been all day.”

“Aren’t you being overdramatic?” Chan asked, reaching down to flick a trail of water in my direction. “I was in surgery for 6 hours today.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve dealt with Felix since 9 this morning.”

“Ah,” Chan sighed. “I figured it had something to do with my brother.”

“Just forget it,” I whined. “You know we don’t get along.”

“I do know that,” Chan said. “But I wish you both made a better effort. We’re family after all.”

I shivered at the idea of Felix belonging to any family of mine. “You can keep him on your side, then. I grew up as an only child, look at how much better I turned out for it.”

“You told me you had imaginary friends growing up because you were so lonely,” Chan teased.

“Asshole,” I muttered. “That’s sensitive information that I told you in confidentiality. You should know all about patient-doctor confidentiality. Didn’t you have a whole lecture on it?”

“Y/N,” Chan lightly chastised, reaching for a towel on the rack next to the counter. “Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour.”

“You’ve condemned me to death,” I complained, watching through lidded eyes as he stretched out his arms.

“I’m serious, Y/N, at least try to get along for my sake.”

“That’s all I ever do,” I muttered to his retreating form.

Hwang Hyunjin is a willing accomplice to the devil himself who never misses an opportunity to throw out some lascivious comments about my appearance. He was Felix’s best friend and partner in crime, sharing his goal of making my life as miserable as possible. He was also coming out to eat with us tonight and no matter how much I whined to Chan, he remained adamant that Felix should spend some time with his friends. “He’s only young once,” Chan told me, ignoring the way I glared at him with every ounce of hostility that I could muster.

“Did you paint those pants on, Y/N?” Hyunjin asked the minute he sat down in the backseat next to Felix.

“I did, actually, thanks for the unnecessary observation,” I told him shortly, still focused on the staring contest I was having with Felix in the rearview mirror.

“Don’t mind her, she’s probably on her period,” Felix said and I took in a deep breath because I was very close to turning around in my seat to choke the life out of Felix’s pencil neck.

“How have you been, Hyunjin?” Chan asked, one hand on the steering wheel as he calmly navigated us through the permanent traffic of New York.

“I applied for a job with Amazon,” Hyunjin replied. “I don’t wanna brag, but I definitely nailed the interview.”

“Yeah right,” I muttered under my breath. Hyunjin had the worst people skills in the history of mankind. He was almost as incompetent as Han Jisung, but ten times worse because of his sarcastic attitude.

“You’ll get me Amazon Prime for free, right bro?” Felix giggled and I resisted the urge to mock the sound.

“I’m proud of you, Hyunjin,” Chan said. “I know you worked hard.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Hyunjin said. “But the chick who interviewed me was really hot and I think I appropriately swept her off her feet.”

“Big tits?” Felix asked because that’s all those stupid boys cared about.

“Of course,” Hyunjin said. “But I’m still waiting for you, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Felix scoffed. “You could do better than Medusa.”

“How about some music?” I snapped loudly, reaching down for the radio knob to block out the sounds of Felix and Hyunjin’s voices.

Monday mornings were the worst thing to ever happen to mankind next to Lee Felix. I was sipping at my morning coffee, cold now because Felix had spent way too much time ordering me around the kitchen before I left home. But it was better than nothing and I desperately needed caffeine to get through the day. “Morning, Y/N,” Changbin greeted me smoothly, suit well-pressed and fitted to hug his arms and thighs just right.

“Sure,” I said in reply, trudging to my chair in slow motion.

“Are you always this lively in the mornings?” Changbin remarked, leaning against my desk as he looked through his mail.

“Just on Mondays,” I said, booting up my computer so that I could answer the dozens of emails likely waiting for me, most of which would come from annoying sponsors who wanted Changbin to be on their dumb podcast.

“Well, you still look gorgeous,” Changbin said.

My cheeks flushed at his comment. “You still need to call Mr. Kim back, he’s left another voicemail.”

“Just one call?” Changbin smirked, eyes dancing dangerously. “Have you been scaring everyone off, Y/N?”

“I did just as you asked, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir,” Changbin chuckled, carefully engrossed in his cell phone now as he graciously returned to his own office.

I shivered as I glanced at my computer screen. Changbin was still as notoriously flirtatious as he had been when we were younger. In fact, it might be worse now that he had finally grown into his sharper features which made him look ridiculously attractive. “I love Chan, I love Chan,” I quietly repeated to myself, even as a distant memory suddenly forced itself back into consciousness.

An 18-year-old Seo Changbin walking inside my lecture hall wearing a dark button-up tucked into the tightest pair of skinny jeans he probably owned. Every eye in that lecture room had suddenly turned to him because he was an irresistible force, impossible to ignore. “Y/N?”

Be cool Y/N, I softly chastised myself as I offered him a friendly smile. “Hi, Changbin.”

It was purely coincidental that Changbin had ended up at the same University as me, but that didn’t stop my fragile teenage heart from declaring it as something akin to fate. “It’s been a while,” Changbin said, pulling out the chair next to mine.

I swallowed hard because my mouth was as dry as a desert. “I didn’t know you were enrolled here.”

“It was my first pick,” Changbin said. “My father is an alumnus.”

“Really?” I asked, ignoring the arrival of the professor in exchange for mapping out every single one of Changbin’s gorgeous features.

“This class is just for gen ed,” Changbin said, pushing a hand through his neatly styled black hair.

“Oh, same for me,” I nodded. “I heard it was pretty easy.”

“Is that right?” Changbin asked while flashing me an award-winning smile. Roll out the red carpets because this boy was cool enough to be in an action film co-starring Tom Holland and Ancel Elgort.

But what were we talking about? “I’m majoring in English.”

“Political Science,” Changbin returned. “And Business.”

I deflated a little because, in comparison to my lousy arts degree, Changbin seemed like a certified genius. He would be educated in the art of entrepreneurship and big money while I struggled to comprehend the meaning of Great Expectations. “Have you met anyone else from high school?”

“Not yet,” Changbin said. “What about you?”

“Well, Bang Chan’s enrolled here too...” I started, only to trail off when I realized that Changbin probably had no idea who Chan was since he never paid attention to him in high school. Actually, Changbin would have been more likely to join the football jocks who liked to steal Chan’s stuff only to tie his underwear to the flagpole outside the gym.

“The nerdy Australian kid?” Changbin chuckled. “That sucks.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage since Changbin obviously didn’t know that Chan and I were friends.

“You don’t hang out with him, do you?” Changbin asked, peering at me closely like I was seconds away from losing the honor of his company.

“We have lunch sometimes,” I said, which was only partially true since I did like to meet up with Chan in the dining hall around 2:00 because it was never crowded. But Changbin didn’t need to know that I had spent the night in Chan’s apartment listening to him record one of his mixtapes because Chan had a newfound interest in music.

“You could do better,” Changbin sighed. “Hang out with me instead. I’ll treat you to the nicest fast food joint on campus.”

My heart was racing, palms clammy as I nodded my head rapidly. “Lunch?”

“Whatever you want, love,” Changbin said, close proximity knocking every rational thought clean out of my head.

It was like my best fantasy coming to life right before my very eyes, and after our lecture ended I asked Changbin to wait for me while I made a phone call to Chan. “Y/N!” came his cheerful voice from the other end. “Guess who got to dissect a liver today?”

I wrinkled my nose at the nasty image. Chan was studying to enter the medical program which meant a lot of his daily life centered around the human body and all sorts of things that could go wrong with it. “Chan,” I whined. “You’re talking to someone who can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“I know,” Chan sniggered. “Does this mean you’re not gonna want to eat lunch with me today? You know I’ll pay, of course, I got a raise at the cafe.”

“Well,” I started, desperately searching for the right words. “I actually have to meet with my professor for this essay I’ve been having trouble with.”

“No problem,” Chan said. “I’ll bring you takeout for dinner. Doesn’t your roommate have practice tonight?”

I glanced back at Changbin with a guilty conscience. Why did Chan have to be so sweet all the time? “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“No liver talk, I promise,” Chan giggled and I hung up the phone before he could make me feel even worse than I already did.

“You want to get some lunch?” Changbin asked with his hands dug inside his pockets as he stood in front of my desk.

“Like, with me?” I asked warily because I wasn’t sure where the line stood on professionalism when it involves eating with an ex-boyfriend.

“Who else?” Changbin said. “I figured we could use a break from the phone calls.”

“I don’t know...” I answered hesitantly because Chan would probably lose his shit if he discovered I went out anywhere with Changbin.

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N,” Changbin said. “My job is to make sure my employees are well taken care of.”

“I guess,” I sighed, reaching down for my purse on the floor. “One lunch together won’t hurt anything.”

But Changbin seemed awfully smug, patiently waiting for me to gather my belongings, stuffing my phone with an unanswered text from Chan inside my side pocket. It’s almost like the universe was conspiring against me, doing its very best to try and force me into the worst situations possible. Here’s an irrational thought: what if Chan happened to decide to go out for lunch today? He might find me with Changbin and I couldn’t think of a worse scenario. Of course, I suppose it doesn’t necessarily have to be Chan who finds us. For example, if his younger step-brother was to suddenly wander in the building at this very moment...

“Medusa!”

Curse you, universe!

“Felix?”

“I brought us lunch!” Felix chirped brightly, holding up a picnic basket as he waltzed right up to my desk with far more confidence than necessary.

I blinked my eyes rapidly, unable to process the idea that Felix was standing in the middle of the company’s lobby. “Is it poisoned?” I asked, trying not to alert him to any possible wrongdoing.

Felix ignored me, turning around to face Changbin with a critical gaze. “Seo? Is that you?”

“Felix,” Changbin acknowledged, frowning as if he was the last person on earth he wanted to see, and I could share the sentiment.

“Fuck,” Felix cursed, taking a step back. “You still look really young. I was surprised when Y/N told me you were her new boss.”

“I didn’t tell you that,” I said, opening the flaps of the basket only to let out a disgruntled sigh when I realized he had only brought a bag of chips and a tray of cookies.

“And what are you doing these days?” Changbin asked.

“Freelance work, mostly,” Felix replied as if he really needed to lie to Changbin about his lack of a suitable occupation.

“I forgot what you majored in,” Changbin said. “It was hard to keep up since you changed your concentration like a dozen times.”

I couldn’t hold back my laugh, even when Felix sneered in my direction. “Philosophy.”

“Interesting,” Changbin said, nodding his head. “I’m actually surprised to hear that. You never settled on anything.”

Seo Changbin needed to be careful because his charm points were dramatically increasing the more he mocked my husband’s step-brother. “I actually just finished my Masters.”

“Really?” Changbin said. “This coming from the same boy who used to party with Hwang Hyunjin at all the Fraternities, even if they were on a different campus.”

“It was just Freshman year,” Felix defended himself.

“Well,” Changbin started, “I’m glad to hear about your graduation. Y/N and I were actually just about to head out to lunch.”

I winced at his words, withering under Felix’s accusing watch. “Is that so?”

Changbin carefully studied the two of us. “I’ll be waiting in my car, Y/N.”

I grabbed my bag while pushing the picnic basket back in Felix’s direction. “I swear to god if you tell Chan about this, I’ll castrate you in your sleep.”

“We’ll see about that,” Felix growled, and that was the moment I realized that I was treading very dangerous waters.

Changbin drove us to a charming restaurant about two blocks away from the main company building. He pulled right up to the sidewalk, handing his keys to the waiting carhop as if he had done this about a thousand times. But I guess that was pretty likely considering just how well-off he was ten years later. “Impressive,” I remarked to him, reluctantly accepting his outstretched hand as he helped me out of his car.

“Yeah?” Changbin said, offering me a wink. “Maybe I’m trying to impress you.”

“You’re a dangerous man, Seo Changbin,” I told him, bowing slightly to the waiting doorman who kindly ushered us inside.

This was why the pretty girls always lusted after Changbin. When we were both still in high school, Changbin epitomized the phrase #BoyfriendGoals because he was super attractive, incredibly smart, and athletic enough to earn himself a shining record after an impressive baseball season. And I was just as mindless as the rest of the zombies chasing him down in the parking lot at school or squealing his name in the hallways between classes.

“I eat here all the time,” Changbin assured me, flashing the hostess a dazzling smile while handing her his card.

“Right this way, Mr. Seo,” the hostess curtsied, ignoring the long line of waiting patrons who apparently didn’t matter as much as my new boss as she led us to a private table. “Your waitress will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” I said politely, eyes wide as I took in the gorgeous chandelier dropping from the high-domed ceiling.

“Close your mouth, Y/N,” Changbin said. “You act like you’ve never been somewhere like this before.”

“Not exactly,” I said because the nicest place Chan had ever taken me was an Olive Garden and that had ended poorly after Chan accidentally knocked his shoulder against a poor server on his way back to the table causing an avalanche of salad and breadsticks.

“Bang should be taking you to places like this all the time,” Changbin commented, perhaps a casual observation to anyone else.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Chan and I prefer to keep things low-key.”

“Should I have taken you to Applebees instead?”

“How funny.”

“I’m kidding, Y/N,” Changbin said, reaching down to adjust the buttons on his coat sleeve. “You’ve changed a lot since college.”

“Since we dated you mean?” I asked with an arched brow.

“Well,” Changbin started, “if you want to think of it like that.”

“Hmmm,” I briefly meditated, studying Changbin’s expression carefully. “How else should I think about it.”

Changbin tsked, raising a hand to signal for a nearby waiter. “I don’t mean to suggest anything.”

The waiter approached our table with purposed steps. “How may I help you, sir?”

“A wine menu?” Changbin asked, nodding generously when the waiter returned with his requested selection.

“You make a beautiful couple,” the waiter gushed while he pulled out a thick leather wallet, flipping to a fresh page.

“Oh! We’re not-”

“-A bottle of pinot noir, please,” Changbin said, returning the menu without bothering to correct the waiter’s observation.

“Right away, sir,” the waiter agreed.

I held my tongue until he was further away, bothering an older couple who were probably complaining about something to do with their food. “Changbin,” I warned him. “You should be careful.”

“It was a harmless mistake,” Changbin said. “How can I possibly come between you and Bang?”

I worried my bottom lip between my teeth because it sounded less like a dismissal and more like a challenge.

The sun was already setting by the time I returned home thanks to one of Changbin’s business partners who refused to leave the office building until they had a chance to speak to him. I was low on patience, tired from an exhausting day of dealing with telemarketers insisting our company needed the latest software for our clientele. There was only a limited number of times I could tell somebody to fuck off before inevitably shouting into the other end that I was in no way interested in whatever useless product they were trying to shove down my throat, complete with some kind of scammy discount and an opportunity to be represented on their website.

To make matters worse, my feet were blistered from wearing heels all day and my shoulders ached from slouching over my computer to answer emails and monitor the progress of Changbin’s latest project. My only saving grace was the message Chan had sent me earlier telling me that he had already clocked out at work, which meant I could probably guilt him into giving me one of his trademarked messages. I mean, all I wanted to do was curl up next to Chan in bed and sleep for the rest of the day.

But it looked like my desires would have to wait because as soon as I unlocked the door to the house, I could immediately sense that something was wrong. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously walked into the living room to find Chan and Felix busy with some kind of video game on our HD TV, volume high until I walked in the room. Chan waited until I called his name, reaching for the remote to mute the TV before tossing his controller onto the coffee table. From across the room, Felix’s eyes were alight with mischief.

“How was work today?” Chan asked with a tone that I only ever heard when my husband was feeling particularly pissed off about something, and I had a sneaking suspicion it involved me in some capacity.

“It was fine,” I said, deciding to play it safe while I kept my complaints to myself.

Felix smirked in my direction, whistling to himself as he reached for his game controller. “Felix told me something interesting today.”

“Oh did he?” I asked, wondering just how much pain Felix could tolerate if I marched over to him right now and hit him with an umbrella.

“He said he tried to have lunch with you.”

“I was busy.”

“With Seo Changbin?”

Felix was definitely going to die tonight. That little snitch deserved every ounce of punishment I was starting to formulate inside my head. “He invited me out instead.”

“I got that,” Chan snapped and I knew my husband was in a foul mood. I’m talking about the kind of mood that usually sent me scampering for the safety of the bunkers. Like the time some drunk asshole rear-ended Chan’s precious convertible while we were sitting in downtown traffic. Or the time when we were Freshmen in college and Chan confronted Changbin after finding out that he had been cheating on me.

But this time the problem was me which meant I couldn’t just hide from Chan and wait for things to go back to normal. “Honey,” I attempted to reassure him. “It was just lunch.”

“Yeah? But that doesn’t seem like keeping things strictly professional to me, Y/N.”

“He’s my boss now, I can’t just tell him no.”

“Actually, you can,” Chan disagreed, now refusing to look at me. “How would you like it if I ate with my new superintendent?”

“Depends on if she offered to pay or not.”

“Y/N.”

“Chan,” I pouted. “I’m really sorry! He just surprised me.”

“It makes me wonder what else you might be doing with him,” Chan snarked.

Meanwhile, Felix calmly continued to play his video game while wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. “Are you accusing me of having an affair?”

“Why not?” Chan shrugged. “Since we’re keeping secrets from each other.”

“It was just one lunch,” I shouted. “He’s never done anything like this before. Most of the time I’m alone in the lobby taking his stupid phone calls.”

“And that’s all I should ever hear about,” Chan growled.

“You’re making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes before remembering just how much Chan hated it when I did that to him.

“Y/N,” Chan addressed me sternly, deciding to abandon his seat on the couch to crowd me in the foyer. “If this was anyone else, I wouldn’t make it into a bigger deal, but this is someone you used to fuck while running around campus bragging about it to everyone who would listen...which was usually me!”

“He doesn’t mean anything to me,” I said. “I already told you that!”

“You’ve said a lot of things recently,” Chan said. “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s your brother’s fault since he’s always looking to cause a fight between us,” I said, glaring at Felix while he continued to play the part of the perfect little angel that Chan always considered him.

“Don’t drag Felix into this, he has nothing to do with anything!”

“Oh, don’t be stupid, Chan,” I huffed. “We fight more about Felix than we do about Changbin.”

“Stupid?!”

Oh, Jesus, Y/N, when are you going to learn to watch your big mouth? “Channie, I’m tired of fighting all the time. I feel like we’re always fighting.”

“Yeah? Well, you give me a lot of reasons to stay mad at you.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I groaned. “We never fought this much when we were dating.”

“Is that so? You think our marriage is the problem?”

I froze at his implications. At this point, Felix might as well drag out a bucket of popcorn because this was probably the most interesting drama he had watched all year. “Chan, you can’t honestly believe that.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Chan said, shaking his head. “But maybe I’ll give you some time to think about it.”

“Chan!” I whined, fighting back tears as I watched him turn his back on me. For the first time since we had met, Chan was leaving an argument unresolved, choosing to lock himself away in our bedroom while I struggled to keep myself together in the middle of our foyer.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” Felix whispered into the silent room, waving his fingers at me because he had gotten exactly what he wanted.

Felix’s birthday often turned into a multiple-day affair because he always wanted the best that money could buy. Since Chan and I still weren’t speaking to one another, Chan was taking the brunt of party preparations which meant Felix was practically over the moon with excitement. And why shouldn’t he be? He hit the metaphorical jackpot because he somehow got me in the doghouse while he soaked up all of Chan’s attention.

“Y/N,” Felix whined. “My toast is burnt!”

“Sorry,” I murmured softly, taking his plate even though the bread looked perfectly fine. Meanwhile, Chan chose not to say a word, heavily engrossed in his laptop and doing his absolute best to pretend I was invisible.

“What about this, Felix?” he asked, tilting his laptop screen so that his brother could see whatever it was that probably cost hundreds of dollars. On the other hand, I couldn’t even find the courage to ask Chan for his credit card so that I could replace the broken stool at our counter.

“That’s perfect, Channie!” Felix grinned, hanging off his brother’s shoulder like the little pest he was.

Our Amazon shopping cart was steadily filling with Felix’s party supplies. But I guess it was just Chan’s account now since he had changed the password without telling me. I tried to order a new curtain for the bathroom, only to repeatedly watch the warning screen pop-up with every refresh of the page. “Who do you want at your party?” Chan asked Felix.

“Hyunjin, Jisung...” Felix started, listing out each name while I winced every time because our house would probably end up completely trashed at this rate.

“Whatever you want,” Chan said, apparently forgetting the last time Jisung came over only to break one of my grandmother’s expensive vases. Since it was my stuff, he probably didn’t care. “I have to leave soon,” Chan said, wordlessly clicking on the ‘place your order ’ button before logging off.

“Will you be gone all day again?” Felix pouted, jutting out his bottom lip and offering his very best puppy dog eyes.

23-years-old my ass.

“I’ll do my best,” Chan promised his brother. “Do you need anything while I’m out.”

“More chocolate cereal?”

10-years-old more likely.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Chan cooed to Felix, ruffling his hair before snatching his coat from my outstretched hand, refusing to even acknowledge my existence.

Felix waited until Chan was gone to lean in across the counter. “You two are so cute, Medusa.”

“I fucking hate you,” I said, aggressively attacking the grease stain on the stainless steel pot I was currently washing.

“Whatever,” Felix shrugged. “Will you ask Minho to come to my birthday party?”

“There’s not a fucking chance in hell that I’m asking him,” I snapped.

“Why?” Felix posed the question as if he felt absolutely no shame. “I like Minho and I want him to be there.”

“Fuck off,” I retorted, drying my hands against the rough texture of the dishtowel.

Felix sniffled, reaching for his phone and holding it up to his ear. “Channie? Yeah, Y/N was being really mean to me-”

“-Jesus, fine, I’ll ask him,” I quickly interrupted the little Devil. “How old are you turning again?”

“24!” Felix grinned.

“Then act like it,” I muttered while dialing Minho’s number.

There were only two rings before he answered. “It’s too early on Saturday for this bullshit, Y/N,” came Minho’s pleasant voice from the other end.

“You sleep too much anyway,” I returned. “I have something to ask you.”

“It better be pretty fucking important.”

“Will you come to Felix’s stupid birthday party this Friday?” I asked him, ignoring Felix’s bright smile as he tried to listen in on our conversation.

“Did you buy booze?”

“I’m sure Chan will buy the little bastard all the booze he wants,” I said, pushing Felix out of the way.

“What time?” Minho asked. “I’m a very busy man, Y/N.”

“The hell you are,” I snorted. “9:00 PM. Don’t be late! I’ll be the pathetic piece of trash sitting on the couch alone.”

“It’s about time you learn, Y/N,” Felix remarked, giggling when I threw the dishtowel at him.

“Still in trouble with hubby?” Minho asked. “I hear you have to stay separated for a year before the courts grant divorces these days.”

“You’re an asshole,” I said. “Should I put you down on the guest list?”

“Of course,” Minho said. “Underlined because I’m a VIP”

I hung up on him before he could dig his grave any deeper.

“Don’t burn that,” Felix scolded me, hovering by my side to play the part of Gordon Ramsay while I sweated my ass off to cook everything on his stupid party menu.

“It’s not burnt,” I grumbled.

“I hope you’re not wearing that to my party,” Felix said, casting a critical eye over my outfit.

I reached down to adjust the waistband of my skirt. “What’s wrong with it?”

“This is a classy party, Y/N, and you look like a hooker.”

“Go help your brother or something,” I said, doing my best to be nice since it was Felix’s birthday. I could manage some form of kindness even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Chan’s fine,” Felix waved me off even though I was certain I saw Chan struggling to hang up lights on the balcony just moments ago when I went to change my clothes.

I glanced at the clock above the stove. “Your fellow party animals will be here soon.”

“You’re not cool enough for those references,” Felix told me as he straightened his tie.

“I wasn’t trying to be,” I said, wiping my forehead with a nearby towel. My makeup was probably smeared but I didn’t care. Who was I hoping to impress anyway? The only person I dressed up for was Chan and he could care less about my appearance.

And it was only a few minutes later when the doorbell started to ring. I took a deep breath to try and reassure myself that I could make it through tonight without another Advil. “Someone’s here!” Felix squeaked, knocking his shoulder against mine in his haste to answer the door.

“No matter who it is, I’ll still be in hell,” I muttered, closing my eyes when I recognized Hyunjin’s voice mixing with Felix’s.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin sang, poking his head in the kitchen as if he owned the place. “There you are! Looking all pretty for us.”

“That was the goal,” I half-heartedly quipped back, turning off the stove once I declared Felix’s stupid Tteok-bokki cooked enough.

“Your legs look good,” Hyunjin said, abruptly leaning in closer. “Are you even wearing anything under that skirt?”

“Hyunjin!” Felix shouted his friend’s name from the living room. “Come check out the decorations.”

Hyujin blew a kiss in my direction, tossing me a poor excuse for a wink. “Bye, Y/N!”

Maybe one more Advil wouldn’t hurt.

The party was in full swing by the time Minho finally arrived, greeting Felix with some kind of cheesy handshake. It was too late for me and I had already resigned myself to the futon of isolation in the living room, mourning the loss of one of my good dishes thanks to Han Jisung deciding to request something fancier than our regular set. “Sorry, Y/N,” Jisung had apologized. “I’m sure you can easily replace it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my dead grandmother has another lying around somewhere,” I snarled in his direction, ignoring his wide-eyed look of disbelief as I searched for the broom.

Minho eventually finished his conversation with Felix, offering me a sympathetic look while occupying the last remaining chair. “Y/N?”

“Oh, I’m doing just fine,” I told him.

“You look miserable,” Minho informed me, throwing up his feet on my glass coffee table even though I had told him countless times before to keep his dirty socks on the floor.

“Chan hates me,” I said. “Felix is happy.”

“Ah,” Minho nodded. “Trouble in paradise?”

“It’s all Felix’s fault,” I sniped. “He found out I went to lunch with Changbin and told Chan because he knew it would lead to an argument.”

“He still doesn’t like you?” Minho snorted as if the idea were amusing.

“Felix has hated me since the beginning of time. He was brought to this Earth to cause me misery.”

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” Minho said. “Where is Chan, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “If he wasn’t with Felix, then you might want to check the balcony. I think I saw him sneaking the Advil bottle out there earlier.”

Minho snickered. “You don’t even realize it, but you two are grossly similar. I’m sure Chan would have preferred a quiet dinner out somewhere.”

“Well, Felix always gets what he wants,” I said. “It’s been this way since high school.”

Minho considered me for a moment. “In his defense, Chan has always been Felix’s best friend. They’ve been attached at the hip since they were kids, but then you came into the picture. Suddenly, Chan isn’t as interested in spending all his time with Felix any more.”

“Are you saying I need to find Felix a girlfriend?”

“Y/N,” Minho said softly. “I’m just saying, maybe you need to think about things from Felix’s perspective for once. You were an only child, so you can’t understand what it means to share a close relationship with a brother.”

“Hmm, well you’re like a brother to me,” I teased him.

“Ugh,” Minho gagged. “You’ve had my dick in your mouth before, Y/N, please never say that again.”

“I was trying to be sweet,” I said. “But you ruined it.”

“Did I?” Minho smirked, glancing up at something behind me. “Are you having a good time, Felix?”

“We’re out of beer,” Felix interrupted, face suddenly mere inches from mine.

“You shouldn’t drink like a fish.”

“Medusa,” Felix tried again, holding out a ring of car keys. “Make yourself useful and buy us some more beer.”

I rolled my eyes but acquiesced. “Whatever you want, your majesty.”

I hated winter in New York City because the sidewalks were icy all the time and I was constantly in danger of rolling my ankle. Nevertheless, I tolerated the snow and wind by trading my heels for rain boots and wrapping my body in the thickest coat I owned. Normally, I might consider walking to the convenience store, but tonight I knew my fingers would be nothing but frozen icicles if I attempted that perilous journey.

Thankfully, the traffic was fairly light this late at night which allowed a relatively quick drive to the store, parking my corvette at the sidewalk. I walked inside with a muffled greeting to the store attendant, searching down the aisle to where the beer was stocked in the freezers. “He didn’t even tell me what he wanted,” I scoffed, deciding on the expensive Corona from the bottom shelf since Felix always liked things more when they cost a lot of money.

“Having a party?” the store attendant joked, accepting my debit card after ringing up the cases.

“Something like that,” I said, wondering if that was always his assumption if someone bought more than one bottle of the nasty smelling beverage.

Meanwhile, it had started snowing again when I walked back outside, popping the trunk to store the beer until I finally returned home. I switched on the ignition and turned on the heat to its fullest setting before sitting back in my seat to wrap my arms around myself, fighting off a series of chills. The action reminded me of Junior Year when Chan and I used to make late-night trips to the gas station near his apartment complex. We’d buy all sorts of unnecessary snacks, driving back together because we had planned a movie marathon of Harry Potter. Chan always complained about the films I liked, but he watched them anyway because he knew I enjoyed them.

I came to a stop at a red light, frowning when I noticed that nobody was coming in either direction. “Change already,” I ordered the traffic light as if it could possibly accommodate my request.

“I’ll teach you patience, Y/N,” Chan once told me after we waited nearly an hour in a heavy downpour outside the comic book shop because he just had to have some kind of rare edition figurine.

The traffic light eventually turned green and I rolled out into the intersection, never noticing the reckless SUV until mere seconds before it crashed into the side of my car.

I had the worst luck in the world when it came to relationships. First, there was my tired rendezvous with Minho in high school, blowing my best friend in the bathroom because he’d always fuck me with his fingers afterward. Then, there was that slimy bastard Seo Changbin who I willingly gave my virginity to, thinking he was the love of my life. That was before I found out he was cheating on me with some sleazy cheerleader thanks to a couple of photos surfacing on Facebook. My heart was instantly broken, pride in shambles as I spent an entire week hiding out in my dormitory ignoring all phone calls and text messages as I cried over a boy who never deserved my attention in the first place.

I plucked a few strands of grass from the ground next to my feet, savoring the first taste of sunlight I had allowed myself since that unfortunate discovery. Who the hell did Seo Changbin think he was anyway? Playing with my heart like that as if it meant absolutely nothing to him.

At least I wasn’t sad anymore, having spent enough time crying over the destructive boy. Now, all I could think about was smacking that stupid smug grin off his face while thoroughly purging my built-up frustrations...“Y/N?”

I turned around quickly at the sound of Chan’s voice, rising to my feet to brush the loose grass and dirt from my jeans. “Channie,” I said, nervously wringing my hands in front of me. Chan was probably mad at me since I had been ignoring him all week.

“Are you okay?” he asked instead, tone surprisingly gentle as he stopped in front of me.

“Not really,” I told him honestly.

“I didn’t think so,” Chan said, features hardening. “I’ll beat the shit out of Seo for you.”

I shook my head. “That won’t do any good.”

“But if it makes you feel better,” Chan said, reaching out to delicately swipe his thumb under my eyes. “You aren’t sleeping.”

It was more of a statement rather than a question, but I still felt the need to reassure him. “I promise that I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Chan said, offering me a kind smile. “I can tell, you know?”

“Yeah you’re good at that,” I groused.

“I’m pretty good at a lot of things when it comes to you,” Chan admitted, eyes holding a pure kind of affection as they appraised me.

“I’m glad I have you,” I said, letting out a sigh as I allowed my head to rest against the center of his chest. “You don’t think I’m stupid for trying things out with Changbin?”

“You’ve always liked him,” Chan said with a bitter tone that sounded more like a jealous lover rather than a friend.

I chose not to say anything. “I hope the two of them make each other miserable.”

Chan chuckled. “Is this your form of revenge?”

“I don’t think it’ll work out in my favor,” I said, pressing myself even closer to Chan, pausing when my hand drug across his stomach. “Holy shit, Channie, you weren’t kidding about the gym.”

“Did you not believe me?”

“Who are you trying to impress?” I grinned, propping my chin against his sternum to make it easier to look into his eyes.

“It’s always been the same person,” Chan said vaguely, dimples on display as he considered me. “I hope Seo didn’t destroy your faith in relationships.”

“It wouldn’t be entirely his fault,” I sighed. “All my relationships have been complete failures.

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, brushing a light kiss across my forehead. “Maybe it’s because you’ve never tried the right guy.”

The memory was laced with something warm, an association that stood in stark contradiction to my current condition, slowly opening my eyes to a pulsing room, somehow much too bright for my pupils to adjust. Was I alive? I wondered because I couldn’t really feel anything which was certainly disarming. But then there was a familiar smell, rancid and burning, and it made me feel like I was definitely not in any sort of happy afterlife. There was also the problem of the blurry figure slowly coming into focus next to me, fiddling with an array of wires twisting together with the sounds of a machine distantly clicking in the background. I watched through hooded eyes as the now perceivable person in question handled an impressively large needle, pinching my skin painfully at the juncture of my elbow.

“Han Jisung,” I began, startling him from where he was checking the IV. “Just put a fucking needle into my arm. What hellish realm have I descended into?”

“Y/N!” Jisung squealed loudly, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss against my forehead.

“What the hell was that for?”

“For not dying,” Jisung sighed in relief. “When you came in, there was nothing but blood and glass everywhere!... Oh, and Chan may or may not have a fine against him for beating the living shit out of the asshole that hit you.”

“Why are you so loud?” I groaned, palming my forehead because the room was still swimming into focus. “What happened?”

“You probably don’t remember,” Jisung said. “It was a pretty bad concussion, but you were in a car accident.”

“I was?” I questioned, struggling to recall anything past a few minutes ago when I first realized that incompetent Han Jisung was sticking pointy objects into my veins.

“Chan was so upset,” Jisung said. “He wanted to do the surgery, but the superintendent wouldn’t let him.”

“Surgery?” I repeated. “I had surgery?”

“Cuz’ of your ribs,” Jisung said quietly as if finally realizing that he probably shouldn’t be saying all this to me at once, especially if the persistent beeping of the heart monitor was something to be concerned about.

“What’s wrong with my ribs?” I asked, somewhat panicking as I felt down my chest, noticing the thick bandage wrapped around my upper body.

“Chill, Y/N,” Jisung placated, reaching around me to adjust the monitor. “Now I can’t get an accurate reading!”

“So sorry to inconvenience you,” I said with a hoarse voice, reaching up to quickly wrap my hand around my throat. “Is there something wrong with my voice?”

“Well, you’ve been out for three days so...”

“Three days!”

Now I was definitely panicking, full-on hysteria as the heart monitor loudly detected the irregular contraction of the muscle thundering aggressively against my chest. It was enough to alert the doctor on duty, walking into my room to check on his patient, scolding Jisung harshly as he filled a syringe with a clear liquid. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he said kindly, injecting the fluid into my IV. “Just relax.”

My eyelids fluttered closed, overwhelmed by a disjointed sense of calm that gradually pulled me back under the current of drug-induced bliss.

“Sweetie.”

My eyes flew open at the sound of his voice, the best wake-up call in the whole world. I slowly turned my head to the side, taking in the sight of my disheveled husband, eyes blood-shot with heavy dark bags haunting tight circles against his pale skin. “Channie?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Chan sniffled, fresh tears swelling his cheeks as he leaned in closer to grip tightly to my hand. “It’s all my fault.”

I considered him closely, wondering what he could possibly mean by accepting blame for whatever was causing him obvious pain. I faintly remember Jisung telling me about am accident, but it was difficult to really think back any further, like a wall had enclosed around my brain, refusing to allow anything else to come into consciousness. But Chan didn’t need to cry, he was usually the best part of my life, waking up in bed together to share sweet kisses or eagerly waiting for him to come home and swoon over my newest K-Drama obsession. “Why are you sad?” I asked him, reaching out to do my best and wipe away those nasty tears.

“You wouldn’t answer your phone,” Chan cried, heart-wrenching sobs that broke my heart with every heavy inhale. “I didn’t know where you were.”

“Is that why you’re upset?” I asked, wiping away a few mischievous curls that had wandered into his eyes.

“I found you in the intersection,” Chan whispered. “And the car...” he trailed off with a choking gasp as if the details were too horrific to describe.

“I’m here now, Channie,” I said, desperate to relieve his sadness. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

Chan nodded furiously, pressing a wet kiss to the back of my hand. “I can’t lose you like that, sweetie.”

“Well, I plan to stick around for a while,” I said, earning me a half-smile in return. “Channie,” I whispered, glancing around the room conspiratorially. “Is there anything good to eat in this place?”

This time Chan did laugh and it was the best medicine I could possibly have.

“Vitals?” Chan asked, lingering around the poor nurse who clearly wasn’t expecting this much attention over one patient when she clocked in this morning.

“I already checked them,” the nurse informed him, writing down something on the chart clipped to the edge of my bed. I sipped my water as I watched the two of them, wondering if Chan had been this overbearing the entire time.

“Temperature?”

“98 degrees.”

“Blood pressure?”

“122/75”

“Respiration?”

“Chan,” I whispered softly, immediately drawing my husband’s attention who was at my side in an instant. “I think the nurse knows how to do her job.”

The poor woman shot me a grateful smile as she re-clipped my chart, hurrying out of the room as if she couldn’t possibly escape fast enough. “Sorry,” Chan said, taking his seat next to me. “I’m just worried.”

“I get discharged tomorrow,” I told him. “Pretty sure that means I’m just fine.”

“But your leg,” Chan whined, fussily messing with the large cast, tucking the blankets in securely.

“It’ll heal,” I said, frowning as I picked at the squishy jello the nursing staff had brought in earlier. “Isn’t there anything else to eat?”

Chan tsked. “That’s good for you, Y/N. It’s full of necessary vitamins.”

I should have known better than to ask my doctor husband if I could possibly have something that actually had flavor to eat. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, Chan refused to waver from the nasty daily meals I was brought, much to my disappointment. “I’d kill for a burger.”

“Too much fat,” Chan said, turning down the idea before I could possibly try to negotiate.

“It physically hurts me to eat,” I tried. “I think they’re secretly plotting my death.”

“Y/N,” Chan scolded lightly. “There’s a reason why we serve this to patients, alright?”

I frowned at him but shoved a spoonful of the nasty substance in my mouth, earning me a pleased smile in response. “Happy?”

“You can have better food tomorrow,” Chan said, pausing as he reached down to check his phone notifications. “Minho is here,” he grumbled. “I guess I’ll go get him from the lobby before he gets lost.”

“Thank you, darling,” I chirped, accepting his brief kiss.

“I’ve seen worse,” Minho declared, ignoring Chan’s disbelieving scoff.

“You obviously weren’t here when she was first brought in,” Chan growled to him.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Minho asked, disregarding Chan who had gone back to check the dozens of machines somehow monitoring my every possible bodily function.

“Hungry,” I grimaced, pointing to my discarded container.

Minho lifted it curiously, bringing it his nose before he let out an unattractive grunt. “Is this garbage?”

“Don’t encourage her,” Chan said, reaching for my chart for the millionth time that day. “I’ll be right back, Y/N.”

“Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes once his back was turned.

I waited until Chan was gone before desperately reaching out for Minho. “You’ve got to help me, Minho! I can’t stand another day of jello and mashed potatoes. Get me a Big Mac and I’ll give you the number of one of my work acquaintances.”

Minho raised an interested brow. “Scale?”

“Oh, she’s definitely an 8...please!”

“That’s impossible to turn down, Y/N,” Minho grinned. “Give me ten minutes.”

I snatched his sleeve before he could walk away. “Make sure Chan doesn’t see.”

“So ask Han Jisung to fuck something up, got it.”

“You’re my best friend in the entire world. The rest of my life will be spent in your servitude.”

Minho offered me a brief salute and I solemnly nodded my head while ignoring the way my stomach growled.

It was growing dark outside and I’m pretty sure Jisung had accidentally given me too much of whatever pain medicine I had been prescribed. I could barely keep my eyes open as Chan settled next to me on his chair. “Y/N,” he said softly, picking at an invisible string on his suit pants. “I want to talk to you about the fight we had.”

My exhaustion vanished in a flash. “Okay,” I said, even though I had been hoping Chan would just forget that the fight even happened.

“I owe you an apology,” Chan said. “For acting like a jealous prick. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It’s my fault too,” I said. “I know how you feel about him, but I still went out anyway.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Chan said, swallowing down the lie even though I could always read him like a book. “But every time I think about Seo Changbin, I can’t help but remember Freshman year.”

“You act like he broke your heart instead,” I tried to joke, but Chan was everything but amused.

“Yeah, he did break your heart, Y/N, and I’ll never forgive him for it. He was an arrogant bastard back then, and I’m sure that hasn’t changed much.”

“Not really,” I agreed, recalling our prior lunch arrangement.

“And I’ll never be okay with the fact that you work with your ex-boyfriend, but since you love the job so much, I can’t possibly fight with you anymore,” Chan said. “I should trust you as my wife.”

“I’m not remotely interested in Changbin,” I said. “It just sucks that he’s got good connections.”

“But if he tries anything on you...”

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “I would never do anything to hurt you, even if his thighs look super good these days.”

“Y/N.”

“I know, Channie,” I giggled, reaching for his hand. “Trust me, alright? I don’t plan to work there forever. Fingers crossed for a promotion to the publisher.”

“I’ll pray every night if I have to,” Chan said. “As for Felix...”

“Don’t worry about him,” I said. “I know that I should try harder to get along with Felix.”

“It’s a two-way street,” Chan countered. “I’ve spoken to him about everything.”

“You have?” I wavered. “What did he say?”

“Well, he feels really bad about the accident,” Chan said. “I think he realizes how much better things would be if you guys were on friendlier terms.”

“He really looks up to you,” I said, recalling Minho’s words from before. “I hope he doesn’t feel like I’m trying to steal you away.”

“Felix and I have always been close,” Chan said. “We both had a hard time moving here from Australia. But at the end of the day, we could rely on each other..”

“High school wasn’t very good to either of you,” I said.

“Well, except for you of course,” Chan said, attempting a smile.

“They were mean to you, Channie,” I said, “and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I’ve gotten over that,” Chan insisted. “But Felix always took everything harder than me. He wasn’t very social until college.”

“He should have stuck to being an introvert,” I said. “Look at the kind of friends he ended up with.”

“Are you saying Hyunjin is a bad influence?”

“Have you been around for our interactions?

“I’ve definitely noticed, Y/N. Remember what happened that one time when we went camping-”

“Anyways,” I loudly interrupted. “It seems like we both have a lot of things to work on.”

“But that’s why we talk about it,” Chan said, pressing a soothing kiss to the wrinkled crease of my forehead. “That’s what married couples do, right?”

“Ah, Channie, when did you become a walking cliche?”

“Should I be more serious, then?”

“You’re getting there with the doctor’s jacket.”

“Really?” Chan asked, sitting back in his chair. “Is this your way of asking us to try some kind of kinky roleplay?”

“I don’t know, but it might be interesting. Can I call you Dr. Bang?”

Chan was positively beaming. “You can always call me Daddy instead.”

“Darling, I think they accidentally gave you my prescription of morphine.”

If anyone were to ever ask me, then I’d tell them that signing hospital discharge papers was about as difficult as applying for a loan. “How many more are there?” I wondered, scribbling a messy signature at the bottom of the last sheet Jisung had brought for me to sign.

“I think that’s it.”

“You think?” I snorted, watching Jisung sort through each page carefully like he really had no idea what he was holding.

“Each year they add more shit for the patients,” Jisung explained. “I’m pretty sure they do it just to confuse me.”

“Everything confuses you, Jisung,” I said, patting his arm sympathetically. “Has Chan come in yet?”

“He’s on his way with Felix.”

“Goodie,” I grumbled. “Are you working late today?”

“Someone has to help since Chan insists on taking the day off,” Jisung said.

“I hope they aren’t planning on letting you do the surgeries.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

I kept my mouth shut, deciding to let Jisung live in his deluded fantasy world where he could somehow manage to cure patients of their ailments as opposed to causing them. Unsurprisingly, since the moment I had first met him, Jisung had always been completely sure of himself even if he was whole-heartedly wrong. For example, when we were all seniors in college, Chan refused to speak to Jisung for an entire week after the two of them received an F on their group project. Apparently, Jisung forgot to submit the lab report on time and waited an additional week before approaching the professor to politely ask if he could still bring it to her after class.

“Channie,” I tried to console him. “You know Jisung didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, but my GPA will still suffer the consequences,” Chan had sulked, whining about how difficult it was to maintain a friendship with Han Jisung.

Yet, when Chan was first hired by the hospital, Chan sent in a very persuasive reference for Jisung, encouraging the higher-ups to offer him a nursing position. The three of us went out to celebrate Jisung’s new job offer, nursing shots of bad vodka while eating rather terrible sushi. “Chan,” a very tipsy Jisung had said. “I love you so much, man.”

“Oi, keep your hands to yourself,” Chan had grouched despite wearing the biggest grin on his face...

“Y/N,” Jisung interrupted my recollection. “I think Chan just got here.”

“Finally,” I sighed. “I thought I would never be able to get the smell of alcohol out of my nose.”

“Thank God you’re here,” I said the moment Chan and Felix walked into my hospital room. “I’m pretty sure I had to sign my life away to leave this place, but it’s totally worth it.”

Chan rolled his eyes playfully. “I see you’re feeling better this morning.”

“I’ve been better for days,” I said. “But my doctor wouldn’t allow me to so much as breathe the wrong way.”

“Is that so?” Chan asked, reaching down for my discarded bag. “Your doctor sounds like a real asshole.”

“Yeah, but he’s pretty hot. I’d totally fuck him if I wasn’t already married.”

“It sounds like you have a thing for doctors?” Chan asked. “Does this husband of yours know that?”

“He probably does,” I said. “But I feel like he’ll probably leave me to masturbate on my own for months because of this dumb cast.”

“Y/N,” Chan scoffed. “It’s important for you to heal properly.”

I groaned loudly. “Why are you so responsible?”

Chan carefully handed me my bag. “Make sure you have everything. I’m going to talk to your surgeon one more time before we leave.”

It was difficult to prevent myself from protesting, finally realizing just how quiet it was with just me and Felix in the room. “Hi, Felix,” I said, awkwardly adjusting my blankets once Chan had disappeared from sight.

“Y/N,” Felix said, gaze focused on some unidentifiable point on the floor.

“What have you been up to?” I asked, trying to sound cheery because I didn’t like the look of despondence on Felix’s normally bright visage.

“I owe you an apology, Y/N,” Felix said with a vulnerable tone I had never heard from him before. “It’s because of me that you got hurt.”

“Felix,” I hesitated because this was uncharted territory for the both of us, a distant cry from our usual taunting banter. “You don’t need to do that. Everything’s fine now.”

“Your leg,” Felix whispered as an unexpected tear slid down the side of his face.

“It’s just a fracture,” I shrugged. “I’ll be just fine in a few months.”

“Just a fracture,” Felix parroted back, voice thick with emotion. “Why aren’t you mad at me? Because you should be. I’m always getting in your way.”

“Is that what you think?” I asked, surprised to hear Felix’s true feelings. “Felix, you aren’t in anybody’s way. You know I don’t really care that you’re staying with us, especially after you just graduated. I just wish you’d be a little bit more respectful.”

“Because I’ve always been jealous of you, Y/N,” Felix said. “Especially since Chan likes you more than me.”

“Felix, you know that Chan loves you. He would do anything in the world to make you happy.”

“He’s always chosen you over me,” Felix said. “He stopped hanging out with me on weekends in high school, and he even went to the same college as you even though he was accepted into Harvard and Yale.”

I was shocked by Felix’s true feelings, a rare moment of vulnerability that he was choosing to share with me. “Lixie,” I said. “Why have you never said anything before?”

Felix shivered at my use of his nickname. “I didn’t want to. You guys are so happy together and I didn’t want to hurt Chan.”

“Ya! Felix,” I frowned, “your feelings matter too. And if you really feel that way, then we need to talk about it together.”

“I’m just a burden,” Felix gruffed.

“No, you aren’t,” I insisted. “You’re part of our family, and if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable, then you deserve to be heard.”

“You don’t really mean that do you, Y/N?” Felix asked with glistening eyes. “I don’t want you to say these things just to make me feel better.”

“Felix, when have you ever seen me lying to someone just to protect their feelings?” I asked. “I always speak my mind, and this time I’m putting my foot down. When we get home, we’re having a movie marathon, just the three of us. And this weekend, you and Chan can go somewhere together out of town. I’ll have Minho stay with me instead.”

“Really?” Felix asked, swiping a sleeve under his bright red nose.

“We’re in-laws you know,” I said. “That means we look out for one another.”

“Y/N,” Felix giggled and, for once, I didn’t feel the slightest bit annoyed.

“Lee Felix, don’t you ever let me catch you crying like this again, understand?”

Felix nodded, smiling so brilliantly that I was reminded of when we were much younger and he was just an innocent little boy who idolized his older brother.

“Careful,” Chan said, holding the door wide with one hand while keeping a firm grip around my waist.

“I’m not gonna break,” I grumbled, pausing in the doorway as I let out a grateful sigh. It was a huge relief to be back at home and not stuck in that hospital room surrounded by questionable smells.

Chan carefully led me into the living room and I gave him my crutches before collapsing on the futon, ignoring the rigid fabric because I had never been happier to hug one of the matching throw pillows. “Comfortable?” Chan asked, helping me prop my leg up on the coffee table. Meanwhile, Felix lingered in the doorway, grasping my bag tightly between his hands.

“Come join us, Felix,” I said. “You’ll let out all the heat.”

Felix nodded, eyes wide as he locked the door behind him. Chan sent me a curious look as if he wasn’t sure what I was hoping to accomplish by inviting his younger brother into the same room. “I have something for you.”

I clapped my hands together eagerly. “Is it something loaded with carbohydrates and fat?”

“Not quite,” he said, handing me my cell phone. “Seo Enterprises called earlier today. I already contacted them about the accident, but I guess they need to hear from you.”

“Great,” I grimaced, dialing the number from memory. It rang for a few moments, and Chan and Felix were both messing around with the TV, probably trying to figure out what to watch. Because the only thing the two brothers argued about was whether action movies were better than romance.

“Seo Enterprises, this is Eliza speaking how can I help you today?”

“Hi,” I immediately cringed, wondering how many cool points I could possibly lose in one day. “This is Y/N, can I speak to Mr. Seo please?”

“I can transfer you right away,” Eliza spoke promptly as if she had already been prepared to receive my call.

“Y/N!” Changbin’s voice now answered. “I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been having a lot of bad luck recently,” I said. “I guess you know about the accident.”

“I heard,” Changbin said. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” I said. “But I might need some time away from the company. Apparently, a broken leg is a pretty big deal.”

“Take as much time as you need, Y/N,” Changbin said. “I’ve hired a temporary secretary until you’re ready to come back.”

“I don’t know, Changbin,” I said. “It might take several weeks. Maybe you should just hire a replacement.”

“There’s no need for that, Y/N,” Changbin countered. “I still believe you’re the best person for the job.”

“Well, if you’re sure...” I trailed off, shaking my head furiously at Chan when he held up our used copy of The Notebook.

“I’m definitely sure,” Changbin said. “Call me when you want to come back. We still have a lot of things I want to do together in the future.”

“You’re too indecisive,” Chan said, finally taking a well-deserved seat next to me on the futon.

“And you have terrible taste in cinema,” Felix retorted.

“Yeah? Well maybe we should just let Y/N pick,” Chan suggested, mouthing a sweet kiss against my temple.

“I think Felix should decide,” I said, cuddling up closer to Chan’s side.

“Really?” Felix asked, appearing entirely surprised that I would allow him such freedom.

“Why not?” I sighed happily. “I’ll even watch that weird anime movie if you want.”

Felix scoffed but a faint smile remained as he grabbed the remote. Chan chuckled and leaned down to press another kiss to the top of my forehead. “I’m proud of you, sweetie,” he whispered.

“It’s only because I love you so much,” I said while shrugging indifferently, but Chan could always read through me.

“Hmm, well I love you more,” he said, brushing his fingers through my hair as the opening credits rolled across the screen.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #bang chan #chan #chan fanfic #bang chan fanfic #chris bang #chan smut #bang chan smut

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celestialmark · 4 years

Text

Lacuna - Part Two

- Characters: Johnny Suh x reader, members of nct - Category: single parent au, fluff, slight angst - Word Count: 6.1k - Warnings: minimal cursing - Navigation: prologue | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue - Author’s notes: I almost cried writing this sskksksksks tissues anyone?

Ten is grumbling when he’s forced to roll out of his bed on a weekend, during a time he’s supposed to be sleeping in and doing nothing for the whole day. But the continuous bangs on his front door forcefully jolted him awake, the quietness and stillness of his house being interrupted rudely in a way that’s already ticking him off so early in the morning. He’s stomping down the stairs, wondering who on earth would be in their sane mind to be disturbing someone’s sleep on a Saturday, but all thoughts come to a halt when he sees a breathless Johnny through his peephole.

“Johnny what are you doing here?”

“Is y/n seeing someone?”

Ten frowns as he opens the door wider, “Well good morning to you too, intruder.”

“Is she?”

“Not that I know of, no.”

“Has she dated since I left?”

“Johnny what the hell is going on?”

“Has she?” Johnny insists, the urgency in his voice surprising Ten.

Ten shakes his head, getting caught up in the situation, “She wouldn’t have the time to be dating since she’s so busy looking after Youngho-”

Johnny’s eyes widen, “And how old is Youngho?”

Ten opens his mouth only to close them again, realising just what Johnny was doing but before he can protest and divert the conversation, Johnny doesn’t let him, “Ten, please, I need to know.”

Ten sighs in defeat, the consequences of giving Johnny too much answers on your behalf flashing before his eyes.

“He’s four.”

And as soon as Ten answers, Johnny runs.

When Johnny is out of sight, Ten bolts right back into his house and fishes for his phone that’s under the pillows on his bed. He dials your number quickly and when he’s answered by your voicemail, he rushes to scroll through his contacts until he comes across Taeyong’s number. Panting to catch his breath, he brings the phone to his ear and impatiently waits for Taeyong to pick up.

“Hey Ten-”

“Is y/n with you?”

“Woah,” Taeyong says over the line. “Good morning?”

“Sorry, good morning,” Ten greets back but still in a rushed manner. “Is y/n with you?”

“No? She’s not,” Taeyong answers, dumbfounded. “Why are you breathing so fast and hard? Are you back from a jog or something?”

“No,” Ten says and heaves a big breath to hopefully fill up his lungs completely. “Johnny was here, banging on my door like there was no tomorrow asking about y/n.”

“About y/n?” Taeyong’s eyes widen over the line even though Ten can’t see. His heart drops as he eyes Youngho who’s playing by himself on the couch of his home. “What did he say?”

Ten runs a hand through his bed hair and paces back and forth his room. “He asked me if y/n had been seeing anyone over the years. He asked me if she’s seeing anyone now,” Ten has to pause to catch his breath again, his words spilling to fast in utter panic. “Oh my god and he asked me about Youngho. He asked me how old Youngho was.”

“Ten! What did you say?”

“I panicked!” Ten almost exclaims and Taeyong has to distance his ear away from his phone briefly so as to not rip his eardrums apart. “So I answered.. all of his questions.”

“Ten!” Taeyong reprimands, raising his voice a little and catching Youngho’s attention for a short second before returning on playing with his toys. “You might as well have said everything to him!”

“I know I know I’m sorry!” Ten apologises, feeling a sick knot form in the pits of his stomach. “Where is she anyway? I can’t get a hold of her.”

“She’s taking time off,” Taeyong replies. “I’m looking after Youngho for the day.”

“Well do you know where she is?”

“No, I don’t. I told her to take the day to herself. She needed it. The poor woman didn’t get any sleep last night.”

“Oh god, I feel horrible,” Ten sighs. “In my defence, Johnny was really persistent”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, “You can’t say you feel bad and then defend yourself. That’s not how it works.”

Ten sighs again on the line, “I just hope she’s okay.”

24 missed calls. 30 unread messages.

You try not to be affected by the buzzing of your phone as you tuck Youngho in bed. It’s a Wednesday night and the little one had fallen asleep in your arms a few minutes prior. You leave his room as quietly as you possibly can after planting a kiss on his forehead. When you reach downstairs, you take the phone out of your pocket and the screen reveals the same name that has been popping up for the past four days. You don’t open any of Johnny’s messages nor pick up any of his calls because the mere thought terrified you. After Friday’s encounter, it just proved how unequipped you were to face him despite the length of time apart. So you decide to give it more time. Taeyong’s words eat you away but your worries overpower that and convinces you to press the red button when his name appears on your screen for the twenty fifth time. When the call drops and your screen returns to black, your doorbell rings.

Johnny is standing outside your glass door and when you see him there, he redials your number once again and watches your phone light up in your hand before dropping the call. He tucks it away in his pocket and waits for you to slide the door open.

“So your phone isn’t broken,” Johnny confirms as soon as you open the door, a gush of wind greeting you. “You’re just ignoring my calls.”

“Johnny–”

“I’m coming in,” he announces and on instinct, you step aside to make room for him to enter, too dazed to protest.

Johnny makes a beeline for your living room and you choose to walk towards your kitchen, not really sure whether being the same room as him would calm your heart that’s raging against your ribcage. Your phone rings in your hand and Taeyong’s number emerges on the screen.

“Y/n?” Taeyong says as soon as you accept the call. “Is Johnny there?”

You whip your head towards the direction of the living room and you silently wish the answer to what Taeyong had asked is the opposite of what you’re about to say, “Yeah, he is.”

You hear Taeyong sigh on the other line and you figure he has something to do with this. “I’m so sorry y/n. He insisted on talking to you and I couldn’t keep–”

“It’s alright Yong,” you cut him off. “This was bound to happen.”

Taeyong doesn’t say anything for a while as he contemplates on what to say next. “Are you okay?”

You inhale a deep breath and mentally thank Taeyong for somehow calming you down, “No. But I will be.”

“I’m a phone call away, alright?” is the last thing he says before you drop the phone as you see Johnny appear by the doorway. The expression on his face is taught and you want to hide because the way he’s staring at you straight in the eye right now sends shivers down your spine. You know he’s seen the pictures of Youngho in your living room; pictures of Youngho that resembled him so much. You try not to break so early in the night when he takes a few steps towards you and you look for strength to remain standing in your spot by gripping your phone tight in your hand to the point where your knuckles turn white. When Johnny is a meter away from you, an exasperated sigh leaves his lips and you know that the conversation you’re about to have will break him as much as it has already broken you.

“We need to talk.”

You and Johnny find yourselves seated on the sofa facing the fireplace with Youngho’s photographs spread generously on the ledge. You didn’t even protest when he led you back to the living room because at this stage, Johnny had every right to do whatever he pleased. Neither of you speak for a while and the silence is almost deafening, heavy and thick. You’re playing with your fingers with your eyes trained to the floor while Johnny is leant forward, staring up the pictures and elbows resting on each of his thighs. A million thoughts are running through your head and you’re unsure if you should speak first. You decide not to when you realise that you don’t even know what to tell him first. Johnny does you a favour though, when he breaks the silence himself.

“Youngho..” he almost whispers, his voice too quiet. “Is he mine?”

Johnny knows the answer. But he needed it to come from you.

He turns his head to you and you’re biting down on your lower lip before you find yourself slowly nodding, the truth unfolding right in front of Johnny after four years of keeping him in the dark.

Johnny releases a breath and resumes on staring straight ahead. You’re not sure if you caught a glimpse of relief or a flash of remorse on his face just when he turns away from you.

“He looks just like me,” he says, voice soft and delicate, eyes fixated on one particular photo of Youngho on the ledge when he turned one.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Johnny’s voice is almost quiet and you can sense the defeat in his voice. Your heart clenches tight in your chest because the conversation you’ve been imagining in your head was finally happening. And though you’ve spent the past few years preparing yourself for this moment, you realise you were nowhere near ready because the words are stuck at your throat.

“I couldn’t,” you croak, your throat dry and voice faltering towards the end as you fiddle with your fingers resting on your lap.

“Y/n I deserved to know,” Johnny replies sternly, leaning back to sit up straight. His voice is firm but knowing him all too well, you pick up the hurt in his tone.

You’re so caught up in what Johnny has to say and in how you need to respond that you don’t realise the tears lining your vision slowly. When the first tear falls, the heartbreak in Johnny’s voice pushing you on edge, his taught expression softens immediately when he turns to you again. “I couldn’t. Because if I did, you’d come back in a heartbeat. I didn’t want that because your life was finally starting. I, I didn't want to hold you back,” your voice shaking along with the trembling of your shoulders as you struggle to wipe away tear after tear.

Johnny lands a firm palm on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze, his eyes apologetic and pained. “Of course I would’ve come back in a heartbeat, Y/n. But for a very valid reason— we have a son together. That’s a hell of a good enough reason to come back.”

You meet Johnny’s eyes and gaze at him behind the blur of your tears. You know he should be angry, he should be outraged such a thing, a huge thing, has been kept from him for so long but you can see it, his inability to get mad at you, his failure of expressing his anger despite the magnitude of your crime. And you feel even more guilty then. Right at this moment, you wanted nothing more than for him to let it all out, to let you know how disappointed and furious he is about everything he’s missed.

You let the silence drag on while you struggle to form coherent sentences in your head, too overwhelmed and too tongue tied to know where to even begin. What do you tell the father of your child who hasn’t got a clue about the existence of his four year old in the first place? How do you go about it? The silence must have frustrated Johnny to his wits end because the comforting hand on your thigh leaves you and you watch as he stands up from his seat beside you. You eye him closely behind your tears as he runs both of his palms through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his mouth that makes his chest rise and fall sharply.

He needed so much more that what you’ve just said.

“Tell me,” he repeats, his already taut voice raising a notch higher it makes you flinch in your seat. “God damn it y/n tell me!”

You flinch again and it causes for your fingers to come undone from one another. You cry out your first sob, the sound unpleasant and hopeless, before you find the energy to speak, “I found out I was having Youngho after you left for the States. And I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared and so lost. Johnny, I wanted to tell you. My first instinct was to tell you. Trust me I wanted to tell you.”

“Then why didn’t you?!”

“Because!” You rose from your seat then, your tears falling nonstop, your voice cracking in the process of retaliating to him. “Because you’ve always dreamed of leaving! Always dreamed of taking over your family’s business! Always wanted nothing more than to do everything your dad wanted and needed you to do! How can I...” Your chest is heaving at this stage, your breaths heavy and uneven, your hands shaking, “How can I stop you from going after everything you’ve always wanted to do?”

“Because we have a fucking child together y/n! I have a son for god’s sake!”

“And then what?” You challenge through your tears, aggressively wiping them away wit the back of your head. “And then what?! You come back here and settle for a life you don’t even want? And provide Youngho with what? Johnny we had nothing back then. How could we raise a living being when we didn’t even have the means to do so in the first place?”

You see Johnny’s shoulders slump just as you wipe the remainder of your tears. You’ve said everything you needed to say, you’ve explained your side, you’ve cried all the tears you could possibly keep in your system. But.. why does your chest still feel so tight?

Johnny gazes at you from where he stands, tense muscles and taught features now softening after your heated exchange. You silently wish he’d say something, or better yet, express more of his anger, of his hurt, anything to make him feel better because never mind yourself, you’ve been preparing for this for four whole years, it was nothing compared to the past hour Johnny’s had to wrap his head around all of the occurrences in his absence. But he says nothing, nor does anything, just continues to gaze at you with something in his eyes you can’t quite point out yet.

That’s when he steps closer to you, tugging at your hand so that he can pull you close enough until he can finally wrap you in his firm arms.

And that’s when you lose it too, for the second time tonight. You cry uncontrollably into Johnny’s shoulder as your whole body slumps in his hold. The familiarity of his scent sends you further on edge and not only are you crying for Youngho, but you also begin to cry for yourself, for how much you’ve missed him throughout the years, for how much you’ve struggled by yourself, raising a child solely on your own.

Johnny rubs your back soothingly and closes his eyes, your crying breaking his heart with every sob. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “How difficult it must have been for you to raise our son on your own.. I’m really sorry y/n. The burden must have been so great on your shoulders.”

Our son.

You cry harder and when you feel Johnny’s shoulders shake with yours, you realise he’s crying with you. You lift your arms to circle his torso and rub his back in the same manner he did to you. “I’m sorry I kept it from you. You had every right to know too. I’m really really sorry.”

Johnny buries his head into your shoulders and you let him cry for all the years he’s missed seeing Youngho grow up, for all the times he was left clueless. You hug him tighter and close your eyes, feeling the pain with him, the years of longing for the father of your child finally coming back to you in surges it begins to hurt you again. Both of you are crying for different reasons, yet it feels as if you’re comforting each other for the same ones.

When the two of you catch yourself and manage to stop crying after what feels like an eternity, you let go of each other and the heaviness of your chest finally dissipates when Johhny smiles at you behind his tear-stricken face. You offer a small smile in return as your fingers graze your cheeks to wipe away your remaining tears.

“Y/n?”

“Mhm?”

“I want to make it up to you. And Youngho.”

The night after your conversation with Johnny, you’re in bed with Youngho cradled in your arms as he flips the pages of the book you’re reading to him. It’s your favourite time of the day because you’re at peace that most when you’re holding your son like this. When you read the last line of the story, Youngho beams at you, closing the book and placing it on the nightstand where the lamp illuminated light into the room. He sinks back into you then, wrapping his arms around you and leaning his head on your chest. It’s always been a habit of his to embrace you like this and you’re dreading the day he’ll grow up and no longer need or want your cuddles. Studying his facial features now, he really did resemble Johnny in many ways; from the eyes, down to the nose and to the unique curve of his lips.

“Youngho?” You call out quietly, making up your mind to finally have this conversation with him.

“Yes mommy?” he hums and leans away from your body so he can look up at you. His eyes tremendously remind you of Johnny right now.

Training your eyes on his curious ones, you bring one of your hands to stroke his hair away from his face. “Have.. you ever thought about meeting your dad?”

The boy blinks at you for a few seconds before his lower lip juts out. “I have three. Uncle Jae, uncle Yong and uncle Ten.”

You smile softly at him, “I get that. But what about your real one?”

You watch him as he contemplates on your question. This has been the first time you’ve ever brought up the idea of his real dad and it’s only now that you realise he’s never really asked about him either.

“Mommy has never talked about him ever, so I never really think of him,” he replies honestly, surprising you. “And I don’t want uncle Yong to think I don’t like playing with him anymore if I ask.”

You soften at his words and the maturity that oozes with them. The guilt resurfaces at the reminder of Youngho never having the chance to meet and know how amazing of a father his dad would be to him.

“If you were given the chance, would you like to meet him?” You ask slowly, keeping a close eye on his expressions.

Youngho shrugs his shoulders before collapsing back on you. “I think it would be nice.”

You hug your son then, the uncertainty of the future eliciting a slight yet noticeable fear in you. The different possible outcomes flash before your eyes and you’re almost hesitant to abandon what you want to do and retreat back to everything you’ve ever known. But holding Youngho in your arms right now and the thought of him needing and wanting all the love he could possibly get convinces you to push through.

“Baby, I want you to know that he didn’t leave you, okay?” You reassure him. “He didn’t know mommy was having you.”

You feel Youngho nod against your chest. “Okay mommy. I just hope he’s nice.”

You smile.

“He is.”

“Hey Jae, can I ask you something?”

Jaehyun tears his eyes off Youngho for the meantime as you poke at the food you both had just gotten delivered at his house.

“Mhm? What is it?” Jaehyun asks curiously, dimples showing when a smile forms on his lips. You squint your eyes at him for a moment, studying his delicate, god-like features.

“How are you single?” You guffaw out of nowhere, completely distracted by how handsome he looked, especially today. With eyes shining, fluffy hair perfectly falling in place topped with a smile that could kill, you just had to wonder out loud.

Jaehyun laughs, his eyes disappearing when he does, pearly whites coming to view. Seriously, how? “That’s your question?” he asks incredulously with a grin.

You tap at your chin, “Well, no. But I had to ask that one.”

Jaehyun bends his elbow on the table and leans his face against his palm, looking at you with a smile he knows usually makes all the ladies weak. “Of all the years you’ve known me, are you only realising how good looking I am now?”

You purse you lips together, “Don’t get cocky, it makes you less handsome a ten fold.”

“So you do acknowledge it, I'm handsome.”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I take it back.”

Jaehyun chuckles and retracts his elbow from the table, sitting properly in his seat again, “I’m only teasing, y/n. But, I am seeing someone though, if that answers your question in any way.”

Your face lightens up immediately, the mere thought of Jaehyun being involved with someone exciting you because it was a rare occasion. “Oh my god, yes finally!”

Jaehyun raises a brow, unamused but still, a small smile playing on his lips. “Finally?”

You shrug and finally take your first bite of your naked burrito. “I hardly ever see you out on dates,” you point out after swallowing, reaching across the table to wipe a piece of crumb on Youngho’s lip.

Jaehyun smiles bashfully, pushing his tongue to his cheek, crossing his arms and leaning back on the chair. “Well that’s because I can’t get you to notice me. I’ve been at this since university days y/n.”

You nudge him with your elbow, an are-you-kidding-me-shut-up look on your face. “I’m serious, Jae. Tell me more about her.”

Jaehyun straightens up again and clears his throat, rests both of his arms on the table and laces his fingers together. “Well, technically I'm not seeing her.”

You sigh involuntarily. There always seemed to be some sort of catch with this guy.

“I’ve only met her once,” Jaehyun adds.

“Oh? Where?”

“Remember my trip to Europe last month?”

“Yeah?”

“I met her there.”

“Wow, that’s really far.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, did you at least get her number?”

“No.”

You frown, turning to your friend and setting your fork down. “Seriously? The one time you actually pay attention to someone and you don’t even do the utmost least by getting her number? For someone with that face of yours, you do suck at this dating thing.”

Jaehyun laughs again, amused at your frustration for him. “Why are you getting so worked up about this? Do you not have any confidence in me? And in my face?”

“By the sounds of what you’re telling me, no. I've lost all hope in you,” you sigh, faking immense disappointment by shaking your head.

“If it makes you feel any better, I'm seeing her next year again,” Jaehyun says, eyes smiling. “At the exact same place.”

Your mouth forms an “o”, obviously pleased at the small, yet significant progress of Jaehyun’s story. “Well, that sounds like a k-drama sort of thing.”

Jaehyun stretches his arm to ruffle your hair then, “Why are you so adamant on me getting a girlfriend anyway?”

“Because!” you start and swat his hand away from your hair, stirring away from him and facing Youngho who continues to eat opposite you. “I want Youngho to have a playmate already!”

“Then why not just make one with Johnny?”

You glare at him, “Ha ha, very funny.”

“I wasn’t kidding though.”

The atmosphere shifts then, you and Jaehyun falling silent as the sounds of Youngho’s utensils hitting his bowl the only thing echoing in his dining area. You watch as Youngho takes his last bite, wipe his hands with a napkin from nearby before he’s carefully shifting in his chair to get off it. “Mommy I’m done,” he announces, grinning at you. You smile at him in return and he exits the room to walk back into the living room where he had been playing prior to being called to eat.

“What was it that you wanted to ask me?” Jaehyun asks, breaking the silence when you don’t reciprocate his joke that you know deep down, isn’t really a joke.

“Oh right,” you mumble and slump against your chair, allowing your thoughts to come back to you. “I’ve been thinking a lot.. Do you think.. I’ve done a good job raising Youngho?”

Jaehyun’s eyes soften. “What made you ask that?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. Just with everything happening lately, you know, with Johnny coming back and him finding out. I mean.. you know, I've tried really hard to fill in that empty space, of him not being there. And you guys have helped a lot too, to make sure Youngho doesn’t feel like he’s missing a father figure..” you turn to your friend with empty eyes and an even emptier head. “Just, I feel like I'm not ever going to be good enough.”

Jaehyun reaches for your hand that’s resting on your lap, holding it in his, eyes trained on them as he continues to listen.

“I think it’s just all the “what ifs” getting to me. Like what if I told Johnny back then. What if he came back. What if Youngho had him from the very start. I don’t regret my decision.. I feel like it was for the best, looking at Johnny now he’s accomplished so much. He would have never achieved those if he did stay behind. But just,” you pause, playing with Jaehyun’s fingers as a small distraction from your heavy thoughts, “I feel like I took away so much from Youngho..”

“C’mere,” Jaehyun murmurs as he pulls you gently until you’re resting on his shoulder with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. You sigh in his hold, his palm rubbing your arm up and down soothingly.

“You know what Youngho said to me the other day?” He asks and you’re not surprised because the two always seem to have a world of their own when put together in one room. “That he knows you’re sad. That if there was anything he wanted more than that new toy he’s been wanting, it would be to make you happy again.”

“Y/n, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for raising such an amazing child on your own,” Jaehyun praises, voice velvety and warm. “Youngho is growing up so well and that’s because of how much you devote yourself in looking after him and making sure he gets all the love he can get whether from you, or from us.”

“You’re doing so well,” he adds, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “And I, we know that whatever you decide to do from here on, that whatever decision you make, will only be at Youngho’s best interest, because you always have, from day one, put him first before anything else.”

You close your eyes as you lose yourself in Jaehyun’s words that make you rethink again. Jaehyun was right, maybe you didn’t give yourself enough credit for raising Youngho as a single parent, that during all those years, you’ve spent more time doubting and blaming yourself than patting yourself on the back for every hardship you’ve had to overcome.

You lean away from him, his words of great comfort to you, feeling the weight off your shoulders lift. You give him a smile, his expectant gaze on you.

“Again, why are you single?”

You’re clutching onto Youngho’s hand tight on a Friday afternoon. Johnny had kindly asked for your permission to meet the child after school. You spot him kicking lightly at the ground by the playground near Youngho’s school where you had just picked him up from. You stop at your tracks and squat down to match level with Youngho.

“Okay baby, remember what we talked about yesterday?” You ask him, placing both your hands on his shoulders.

Youngho nods, his hair bouncing along. “I’m meeting my dad today.”

You nod, worry suddenly filling you to the very core. You couldn’t sleep last night, thinking of every possible scenario this meeting could result into. “Right. And what else did I say?”

“Not to hate him because he didn’t leave me behind,” Youngho responds, huge eyes staring into yours.

“Good boy,” you say and ruffle his hair. “If at anytime, you want to leave or you feel uncomfortable, tell mommy okay?”

Youngho stares at your worried expression and proceeds to hug you around the neck. “Okay mommy.” You respond by squeezing him tight, silently asking yourself if this was too soon to be doing.

“Y/n!” Johnny calls out as soon as his eyes land on you. You smile at him and walk a little more to reach him. Youngho’s eyes don’t leave the man who’s just called out your name and remembers him as the man you had told him to be an old friend of yours. Johnny’s eyes fall onto the figure holding your hand and he immediately smiles.

“Hi Youngho,” he says gently, crouching down to meet his level. You don’t miss the way Johnny’s voice shakes towards the end of his greeting and in some way, it comforts you knowing that he’s just as nervous as you are right now.

You feel Youngho’s grip on your hand tighten as he shifts closer to your side. “H-Hi.”

Feeling the need to comfort your son, you scoop him up easily in your arms. Johnny stands up straight again, eyes trailing to the both of you. “Youngho, this is Johnny,” you start earning a nod from Johnny. “He’s your dad.”

Johnny gazes at you for a while, his heart marvelling at your words. You’re staring at Youngho as he looks at you and Johnny thinks that you holding his son in your arms has got to be the prettiest sight he’s ever laid his eyes on. He then takes the initiative to appeal to Youngho.

“Hi Youngho,” he grins. “We’ve met before at uncle Ten’s house. But it’s so nice to finally meet you like this.”

Youngho nods at him, still feeling shy at meeting someone unfamiliar. You feel Johnny glance at you and knowing how hard this is for him, you decide to help.

“Do you want to go and play with him?” You ask Youngho softly, grabbing his attention. “He’s really strong so he can help you with the monkey bars. Mommy had a hard time the last time, remember?” Youngho is only blinking at you as if to confirm if it was really okay to spend time with the person who had just introduced himself as his dad. You give him a smile and nod at him encouragingly, understanding how daunting this might be for him.

Johnny watches the two of you curiously and the excitement in him only grows when Youngho asks to be put down from your hold. He watches in awe as he makes his way to him. He’s playing with his fingers as he cranes his neck to look up at Johnny.

“Is it okay if you help me with the monkey bars?” He asks, his voice shy and almost inaudible.

Johnny beams, “Of course.”

It doesn’t take long for Youngho to warm up to Johnny, immediately laughing and smiling at the silly things Johnny said or did. You’re watching the two of them from a bench and your heart swells because seeing them playing with each other and Johnny assist Youngho was such a lovely sight to witness. Everything was just how you imagined it would be and you wonder how happy it would’ve made Youngho if everything was like this from the very beginning. You always knew Johnny would be a good father, if given the chance, and seeing his paternal instincts jump out, especially when you see him practically jump to Youngho’s rescue when he falls to the ground, prove your assumptions to be true.

Johnny snaps you out of your thoughts when you see him walking towards you, slightly panting and clutching his chest. You watch him take the empty seat on the bench beside you.

“He has so much energy,” he says in between pants. “He just keeps going and going.”

You chuckle and reach inside your bag for a bottle of water and hand it to him, “You’re not wrong.”

He opens the bottle with ease and gulps half of it down effortlessly. You notice the small beads of sweat resting on his forehead. “That’s not even half of his energy yet,” you add, allowing your gaze to follow Youngho who’s indulging himself by the swings.

Johnny recaps the bottle and trains his eyes to follow Youngho as well. “Today just proved how unfit I really am.”

You laugh at this and you realise you’re not as tense as you thought you would be during such a big day and you think it’s because of the fact that Youngho was taking everything pretty well.

Johnny drops his gaze to the ground before looking at you. “How did you do it?” There’s a shift in the tone of his voice and you feel the conversation taking a serious turn.

You cock your head to meet Johnny’s eyes. “Hm? Do what?”

Johnny contemplates for a second before finding his words, “You know.. Raise Youngho by yourself.”

There was so much to say. And so you mull over his question in your head, the past four years flash before your very eyes; the difficulties, the rejoices, the milestones.

“I don’t know,” you reply truthfully, your voice quiet. You feel Johnny’s eyes fixate on you and you know he’s in need of more than that.

“I guess you could say it’s been difficult. It was my first time being a mum and it was something I didn’t expect to happen but I don’t regret any second of it,” you say, a smile forming on your lips when Youngho momentarily stops in his tracks in the distance to smile at you. “Taeyong, Jaehyun and Ten helped a lot. And I think they made everything so much easier for me, since they were always there to help and watch Youngho when I couldn’t or when they felt like I needed time off.”

You feel your voice will falter if you meet Johnny’s eyes while talking about the past but you make the brave decision to do so anyway, feeling the need to address him with what you’re about to say next. You wanted to be honest. Because Johnny deserved at least that.

“Losing you was probably the most difficult thing I’d ever had to go through.. But Youngho made all of that go away. The moment he was born, I felt like I was going to be okay for the very first time in what felt like forever,” you try to offer Johnny a smile when you see his expression fall. “Youngho filled all the empty spaces and he’s just been my saving grace ever since.”

You feel bad for being so transparent but you know that all ever Johnny wanted from you was your honesty. You watch him as he closes his eyes briefly, allowing your words implant themselves in his mind while he thinks of everything he’s pent up to say to you. When he does open his mouth to start, he’s cut off by Youngho calling him out by the slides and you mentally thank your son because you don’t think you’re ready for what Johnny has to say just yet. You only smile at him and gesture over to where Youngho was patiently waiting for him, encouraging him to go over to his son.

Seeing them together, just as you had imagined million times before, was the most heartwarming sight you’ve ever had to see.

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epochofbelief · 4 years

Text

Under the Influence: Prologue

A Throne of Glass/A Court of Thorns and Roses Youtube/College Crossover

alwayss-reading masterlist

Hey! I said this was chapter one in my announcements but it’s actually the prologue:) Please let me know if you want to be tagged! Enjoy!

Triggers: cheating, a break up

PROLOGUE

“Dorian? It’s late.”

“Aelin.” Something about Dorian’s tone had me sitting up a little straighter. “Have you checked your phone in the last half hour?”

I glanced at my watch. It was nearly midnight. Chaol had just left after watching a movie with me and I hadn’t had a chance to catch up on my social media.

“No, why do you ask? I’ll check now,” I said, putting Dor on speaker and sliding up to check my apps. “Did Rifthold Weekly post those pictures from my photoshoot yet?”

“Stop!” My finger hovered above the Instagram app on the screen. “Do not check your phone. I’ll be at your place in ten minutes. Do not check your phone Aelin, or so help me I will never, ever make another late-night dessert run for you again.”

“Can you please just tell me what’s going on? It is bad?”

In the pause before he answered, all my usual anxieties came flooding in, including everything I worried about daily—public scandal, being cancelled, really bad hate mail, particularly nasty anti-Aelin Ash Instagram accounts.

“No. Do not check your phone, Aelin. I mean it.” He hung up.

I usually didn’t listen to him, but Dorian sounded really serious about this one. I tossed my phone onto the couch.

Dorian was only a few years older than me. In addition to his status as my manager, he was one of my closest friends. I knew when he meant business, and the fact that he was rushing to my house at midnight on a Sunday meant something big was happening. Normally, I checked social media every hour or so to see what was going on with my followers and subscribers.

But Dorian’s tone and rush to my place worried me. Only one thing could make him so serious: the threat of me being cancelled.

I shook my head. No. I thought over everything that could have possibly happened that would make Dorian act like this. My legal team had a tight handle on every piece of content I ever released—podcast, Tiktok, Instagram, YouTube, even the few Snapchats I posted every once in a while. It was virtually impossible for me to say or do anything that could get me in any sort of trouble in the public eye.

That made me feel a little better. I took a deep breath and watched my hands. Maybe if I willed it hard enough, they would stop shaking. After all, I probably had nothing to worry about. I padded into the kitchen to find something sweet to eat.

Seven minutes later, Dorian burst into the house (he had a key) and made a beeline straight for me. I offered him the bag of chocolates I was snacking on, but he declined. I didn’t get a clear look at his face until he placed both his hands on my shoulders and stared down into my eyes. I stifled a sigh. Dorian really was quite attractive. That might have been one of the factors that contributed to me hiring him two years ago. I had been deeply upset when Dorian contacted me right at the start of my career asking to be my manager, not my boyfriend. But he was off limits for about a thousand reasons, and of course, I had Chaol.

I shook my head and stared into Dorian’s pale, uncharacteristically solemn expression. “Have you talked to Chaol today?”

I nodded slowly. Odd. Dorian knew my every spare moment was spent with Chaol. “He left like twenty minutes ago. We watched a movie.”

Dorian let out a long breath and stalked out of the kitchen, now rubbing his forehead with his fingers, muttering under his breath.

“Dorian. Would you cut the crap and spit it out? Tell me what the hell is going on!” I demanded, stomping over to prevent him from walking deeper into my home.

“About an hour ago, some photos were leaked. Of Chaol. . . With another girl.”

I blinked. “Okay. . . Chaol gets photographed with people all the time. So do I. Those are all rumors. Everyone knows Chaol and me are together.”

“These photos aren’t like the others.”

“Tell me, Dorian,” I said when my manager refused to meet my eyes. I had a feeling that nothing would be the same after what he said next. Because whatever was going on with Chaol would affect me, my following, my career in some way or another.

“You’ve heard of Nesryn Faliq? The TikTok star?”

“Sure.” A horrible sinking feeling settled into my stomach. Nesryn had a bit of a reputation for drama on the Internet.

Dorian brandished his phone. “You’re going to see them sooner or later,” he said.

I took the phone and slowly tilted my head to see. I nearly dropped the phone when I saw the screen. My boyfriend, lips locked with Nesryn, in a dimly lit parking lot, not a centimeter of space separating the two of them. One of his hands gripped her ass, the other was tangled in her dark hair. From what I could tell, her hands were somewhere under his shirt.

“No. No, no, no. Chaol wouldn’t do this to me,” I managed to say, shoving the phone back into Dorian’s hands and making a beeline for mine, powering it on before Dorian could stop me.

My Instagram was blowing up (more than normal) already. My DM’s were full of the pictures of Chaol and Nesryn, from various angles, the pictures sent from fans and haters and gossip accounts alike. Neither Chaol nor Nesryn had posted any responses to the images yet; of course, it was late on a Sunday night and I doubted anything would start happening until tomorrow.

I took a quick peek at some of the photos to read what the gossip accounts were saying about the pictures.

“Is this the end of Chaolin?”

“Aelin Ash’s delicious boyfriend. . . Cheating?”

I nearly threw my phone at the television.

“He’s. . . cheating on me?” Was all I managed to say as I slumped sideways on the couch.

Dorian came to set next to me, pulling me to rest on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ae.”

I let myself lean against Dorian for a moment. It would be smart if I took a few moments to process everything, decide on a rational course of action.

So after about two seconds, I rose from the couch.

“That bastard is going to pay for this,” I said through gritted teeth. I was not going to be sad about this. No, it was time for Aelin Ash to get angry. “I’m gonna Tweet something. I can’t let this fester all night.”

Dorian plucked my phone out of my grip. He’d moved from the couch to my position in front of the TV without my notice. “You are not Tweeting. We have to be absolutely positive that these pictures are what they are—”

I fixed him with what I thought was my most withering stare. He ignored it.

“And then we have to make sure that you come off as the bigger person in all this. Remember your promise to yourself? No internet drama?”

I kicked the couch. “Yes,” I mumbled. Why did Dorian have to be so reasonable? “But this one’s out of my hands! Chaol started it.” I wanted to scream. I wanted to go key Chaol’s car. Or better yet, set it on fire.

“And we’re going to let him explain himself before you act.”

“I want things between us to be over. Right now.” I kicked the couch again. It felt good.

“Wait til tomorrow and I promise you can call him and force him to explain and then kick his ass to the curb not a moment later. Then we’ll figure out a way to respond publicly. You and Chaol have to work this out peacefully so that you can come out of this looking strong and reasonable. The last thing we want is for the entire Internet to start taking sides.”

I stalked away from the couch. Barely an hour ago, Chaol and I had been cuddled up next to each other watching some rom-com from twenty years ago. How dare he cheat on me and then waltz into my house like he owned the place? How dare he touch me after he made out—and possibly did more—with Nesryn Faliq?

I’d have to get a new couch. Maybe even a new house.

“Aelin?”

I threw up my hands. “Fine! I’ll wait. Go home and get some rest.”

But Dorian shook his head. “Oh no, I’m couching it tonight. If you need me, I want to be right here.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter, Dor. I’m not going to do anything.”

He looked at me sadly. “I know you don’t need a babysitter, Ae. This is in case you need a shoulder to cry on.” I opened my mouth to respond but he cut me off. “And that’s final!”

I huffed out a large breath but relented. “Fine. But I have a guest bedroom, you know. You don’t have to couch it.”

“Nah, I’m crashing right here,” he said.

I shook my head and turned to go upstairs. “Good night, Dorian! And thanks.”

“I’m here if you need me!” Was all he shouted.

I rolled my eyes in the dark hallway. I wouldn’t cry over some jerk who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. No, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius of the Aelin Ash YouTube empire did not get upset over losers like Chaol.

But about an hour later, when I’d given up on sleeping for the rest of the night after tossing and turning, I padded downstairs and into the living room. Dorian sat up immediately.

“Dorian—” I said, and my voice caught on his name.

“Come here.”

I resumed my place next to him on the couch and let him hold me as I cried.

TAGLIST (a smol one)

@elriel4life

#acotar #tog #throne of glass #a court of thorns and roses #aelin galathynius #feyre archeron #feysand #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan #rhysand #high lord #night court #sarah j maas #throne of glass fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acomaf

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years

Note

Christopher probably showing off his dads at his school's bake sale and raising the most money in his class.

we all have a hunger on AO3

When Buck’s phone rang on a Sunday morning, he had barely said ‘hello’ before he was steamrolled by the tiniest little force of nature in Los Angeles.

“Buck, Daddy and I need your help. It’s an emergency.”

“Chris, what’s going on? Are you okay? I’ll get my keys, I can be there in—“

“Wait, Chris, no, give me the phone!”

Buck was half out of bed, half dressed, and frantically looking for his keys when Eddie finally took over the phone, nearly hanging up in his haste. “Buck, no, there’s no emergency. Everything is totally fine, we’re fine.”

Buck froze halfway down the stairs, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he pulled his phone away from his head to finish pulling his shirt on. “See, that sounds like something a hostage would say, you’re really not helping your case here Eddie—“

“We are fine.” Eddie insisted, clearing his throat as Chris loudly voiced his disagreement in the background. “We’re just… baking. Chris has a bake sale tomorrow at his school, it’s one of their annual fundraisers. There’s a bake sale, and I’m making brownies, and we’re doing fine.”

Buck resumed dressing as soon as Eddie mentioned the work ‘bake’—it may not have been a true emergency, but he knew enough to know that anything involving Eddie with an oven was a mess and a half, waiting to happen. He hummed, pocketing his keys as he closed his door behind him, already making his way to the garage. “Well, I love baking. Maddie taught me everything she knows. Mind if I swing by and join you?”

Buck knew that Eddie still struggled with asking for help when he needed it—especially when he was asking someone outside of the Diaz crew—but thankfully, Buck knew how to work around that. He had learned early on that the best way to ease any guilt that Eddie might feel where Chris was involved was to completely reshape the question. In this case, it was easy; Eddie was no longer asking for help with one of Chris’ activities, Buck was asking to join them.

Even then, he heard Eddie hesitate. “Well… I mean, I don’t want to take up your Sunday, but—“

“Eddie, you’re not going to seriously deprive me of spending time with Chris, are you?” Buck said, his voice teasing as he slid into his car, delighted to hear Eddie laughing on the other end of the line.

“No, I wouldn’t dare. We’ll see you soon. Drive safe, okay?”

After a quick pit stop at Foods Co., Buck pushed through Eddie’s front door easily, arms laden with grocery bags. Chris was the first to greet him, his high pitched joy never failing to warm his heart. Dumping his bags on the kitchen counter (and looking away from the burned remains of… something in a pan), he scooped Chris into his arms, dutifully ignoring Chris’ cry of “Buuuuck, stoooop!” until he was basically a giggling mess.

Setting Chris back down, Buck was all smiles as he approached a very defeated looking Eddie in the kitchen, giving him a quick kiss of his own. “Hey, come on, cheer up. It’s basically impossible to bake in a bad mood.” Buck said, pulling Eddie into his arms easily. “Now, how about I break open the family recipe book and show you and Chris how to make the world famous Buckley Cheesecake Brownies?”

Halfway through the Pixar movie of Chris’ choice, Eddie had a third batch of cheesecake brownies cooling in the fridge, and Buck had Eddie tucked under his arm on the couch. He was basically on cloud nine, riding out a pleasant sugar buzz, feeling supremely comfortable in his own skin, though he knew that was more his proximity to Eddie than anything else.

His attention strayed from the… caterpillars? Grasshoppers? He honestly couldn’t follow what was going on, but it didn’t matter as Eddie culled closer up to him, angling his head up to press another kiss to Buck’s lips, voice low as they broke apart.

“Thanks for today, Buck. We… I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Buck smiled, a small, soft look that was strictly reserved for his Diaz boys, arms tightening around Eddie’s middle as he buried his nose in Eddie’s hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head as Eddie’s head rest on his chest.

“Yeah, Eddie, you could have. And you would have, you’d do anything for Chris, and I know that. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

Let it be known that Eddie Diaz was a fucking snack.

Buck knew it. The 118 knew it. Hell, even Carla knew it.

And the gaggle of moms milling through Chris’ school gymnasium? Well, they definitely knew it. And if they didn’t? Buck was 100% there to remind them.

He had all but insisted on joining Eddie and Chris to the bake sale on Monday, not even bothering with excuses, just happily loading Chris up into Eddie’s truck before he slid into the passengers seat himself. He wasn’t going to pass up the chance at scoring some new recipes, first of all, and second of all, he absolutely loved seeing Eddie in full dad mode. And there was no better place to see Eddie in dad mode than in the gymnasium of an elementary school.

Eddie in full on dad mode was fucking hot, okay? Sue him.

Once they had set up Chris’ booth—with a full banner Chris had insisted on painting himself, two tiered display tables stacked high with cheesecake brownies, and a place to make donations to the school, like every other booth had. They may not have been able to keep any of the money they raised, but Chris had more than enough incentive—the booth that got the most donations won their entire class a pizza party. Thankfully, Chris was adorable, and Buck had a secret weapon in his arsenal… the insistence that Eddie wear his LAFD tee shirt, turnout pants, and used an overturned fireman helmet as Chris’ donation bowl. He wasn’t a fool, okay? He knew that the competition was real.

So… he may or may not have had slightly less-than-altruistic intentions when he slipped away from the booth, kissing both Eddie and Chris on their foreheads with the excuse of scoping out the competition as he started to make the rounds.

He was having the absolute time of his life, slipping easily in and out of conversation, his worn henley and comfortable jeans better than any disguise as he eavesdropped, making fast friends and faster business as he made his way around the gym.

“I don’t know, I saw her tossing a few treat boxes into the dumpster outside. You think those cookies are store bought?”

”Oh, I’d steer clear. I think Maria might have mixed up salt and sugar. I mean, I donated of course, but save your tongue.”

“I just think it’s so great, the things that he does with his son. A single dad and a firefighter to boot?”

Obviously, as much fun as sabotage was, Buck’s real talent was talking up Eddie and Chris.

“Honestly, I feel so lucky to even know them. Chris is such a great kid, and Eddie really does go above and beyond.”

It was so much fun because he wasn’t even lying. He got to be as exaggerated and over the top as he wanted—whenever he got a little over the top with Chris, he was usually cut off by a pained groan and an adorable, blushing boy. Whenever he tried to get in depth with Eddie, well, Buck could barely get a few words out before Eddie found a much better use for his lips than talking (with his own adorable blush).

“The last fire we were in, Eddie singlehandedly saved a mother and son who were stuck beneath some debris. He’s an all around hero.”

He was talking now, though—and he had an entirely different approach planned out, depending on his audiences. For all the single moms, easily identified as those who couldn’t take their eyes off of Eddie? All he had to do was mention the word “fireman” and he had them eating out of the palm of his hand; and more importantly, racing over to buy a brownie.

For the parents who were more focused on cooing over the kids at the booths, well, Buck had a trick up his sleeve for them, too—it was as easy as pulling out his phone, scrolling through any number of the photos he had taken the night prior. His personal favorite was one of Chris, eyes bright with laughter, a blob of brownie batter at the end of his nose. He didn’t have to say anything—as soon as they saw that, they were shoving money into Eddie’s helmet.

Eddie looked more and more pleasantly confused as the morning carried on, but Chris looked absolutely delighted, and that was all that mattered as far as Buck was concerned.

“Wait, Buck, wait. You’re telling me you actually conned donations out of people by showing them pictures of Chris?”

Eddie had tears, literal tears in his eyes as he tried to inhale, gripping his half full beer bottle like a lifeline as he wheezed. Buck probably should have looked a little bashful, but Eddie’s laughter was too good to ignore, warming him from the inside out.

The parents had been thoroughly thanked and sent home before lunchtime, and Buck had taken no small pleasure in peppering Chris with kisses before Eddie pulled him out of the gym. They had both taken full advantage of their weekday off—namely, by napping and watching terrible daytime television—and Chris had barely made it a half hour after dinner before the day (and the sugar rush) caught up with him, crashing hard as Buck carried him to bed.

“Hey, Chris won the pizza party for his class, and trust me, that is a one way ticket to be the most popular kid in class. And I wasn’t lying, some of those cookies were store bought—everyone else in his grade can suck it.” Was it mature? No. But Buck stood by it. He was team Chris, ride or die.

“Buck, you can’t say ‘suck it’ about a bunch of kids.” Eddie tried to get out, but he was laughing again, leaning heavily against the wall for support as he clinked bottles with Buck. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was, to get to be in Eddie’s space like this—so easily bumping shoulders and elbows and touching so casually, physical signs of affection that Buck had never allowed himself before. Eddie finally got a hold of himself as Buck pushed some of the curls back from his forehead, leaning into the touch easily, his expression nothing short of heart-eyes.

“Well, thank you for saving me from myself yesterday. And, of course, for cracking open the family recipes to help Chris and his school.” Buck blushed again as he sputtered on his mouthful of beer, struggling to swallow, looking up as Eddie cleared his throat.

“It, uh, I found that recipe on the internet.” He said, chewing on his lip, suddenly feeling a little nervous as Eddie smiled at him—and if Buck didn’t know better, he could swear that there was a pink tint to his cheeks..

“Well… I mean, it could be a family recipe now. After all, we made it together, you me and Chris… right?”

Buck’s eyes blew out wide as Eddie laced their fingers together. He hated the way that Eddie’s voice tilted at the end, like he was unsure of himself, and Buck literally had no choice but to pull Eddie into his arms, erasing any doubt from his mind. He had already known that Eddie would be it for him—that he and Chris were the best thing that he was ever going to get, that he would rather die than give this up, but hearing Eddie call them a family?

Holy fuck, Buck was in love.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #chris diaz #i would die for christopher diaz #no doubt #soft eddie #soft buck #just so fucking soft omg #buddie #911 #flospeaks #floreplies #Anonymous

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knives-out20 · 4 years

Text

The One With The Fight - Chandler Bing x Male!Reader - FRIENDS

Fandom: FRIENDS (1994-2004)

Pairing: Chandler Bing x Male!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers For Season 2 Episode 21,

Notes: Okay, Listen, At Least I’m Giving You Guys SOMETHING, Here!

You walked down the sidewalk and over to Central Perk, the only thing in mind being your need for coffee. You reached the coffee house and were about to go inside, when you noticed something- or, some people, more like.

Two guys with Ross, and your boyfriend, Chandler in the middle of the street.

You furrowed your eyebrows, sticking to the red brick wall of the building beside Central Perk, watching as crowds started to form, pointing and mumbling at the four men. “The hell is he doing-?" You mumbled, only then realizing their fighting stances. Jeez, someone took Street Fighter a little too seriously.

"Alright, come on, man! Let's do this, already!" One of the men, wearing a blue denim coat, exclaimed.

"Before I forget, are we hitting faces?" Ross asked, raising a finger, Chandler and him exiting their previous fighting stances. If he knew you were there, he would've seen you roll your eyes at the fact that he was asking this right before a fight.

The other man, wearing a leather coat, spoke up. “Of course we're hitting faces! Why wouldn't you hitting faces?" He asked.

"Well, because I have to work on Monday. I have a big presentation." There goes Ross, and the weird way he says 'presentation'.

You cringed just by hearing him say it.

The denim coat guy spoke up, turning to his friend. “You know, I got to show this apartment, tomorrow. And, y'know, this whole no-faces thing might not be a bad idea.”

"...Okay," the second guy spoke up again, "nothing from the neck up.”

"Alright" Ross nodded, the four of them resuming their fighting stances.

"Or the waist down-" he spoke up again. When the denim guy looked at him, he said "Dana's ovulating" having the denim guy smile and ask "oh, really? You guys trying again?", Leather coat guy giving a shy "yea.”

"God, no neck up or waist down? What kind of weak fight IS this?" You muttered, crossing your arms. “Strictly the middle part?"

Chandler made Ross turn to face him. So let me just get this straight- so we're, uh, strictly talking about the middle?"

You smiled a Chandler saying the same thing you did, but it got cut off when the guy in the leather coat shoved Ross with a come on!", Ross yelling a "hey!" back.

The four of them regained their fighting stances again, Ross yelling "you want some of this, huh?" as Chandler jumped a little. “You want a piece of this, huh? I'm standing here!"

As Ross was yelling, Chandler finally caught sight of you. “(Y/n)?" He wheezed, eyes going wide.

You pursed your lips, giving him a slight wave. “Chandler" you returned, chuckling. “Got yourself in quite the situation, baby" you grinned, glancing at the two strangers.

"W- I'm- they're bullies!" Chandler pouted.

"'Bullies'? Chandler, you're full grown men. We call them 'dickbags' now" you snorted, tilting your head.

Chandler glanced at Ross and back to you, shrugging. “Aren't you gonna come help us, (Y/n/n)?" He asked, groaning when you replied with "three against one isn't all that fair, Channy.” He then noticed two guys sneaking their hands onto a hat behind the two guys Ross and him were about to fight.

Wait, is that Chandler's hat?

"Hey, hey!" Chandler regained the three guys' attention, pointing at the two thieves by you. “Those guys are taking our stuff!" He yelled, a hand on Ross' shoulder.

"Where?" Ross called, nodding at you, then seeing the two men rush by you.

"Get out of the way, look out!" The man in the denim coat yelled, leading his friend, Ross, and Chandler in a chase after the two thieves.

You grabbed Chandler's hand right as he passed, following them in a run.

"(Y/n), what-?"

"What? And just let them take your hat? No way, honey" you scoffed, tugging him to speed up. You followed the men down the street, letting go of Chandler's hand so that you could push your hair out of your face.

Chandler was more focused on running, so he didn't see the jump rope he was about to trip over.

"Chandler, watch out!" You called, but it was too late. You watched as Chandler tripped over a little girls jump rope, stopping by him immediately. “Chandler, oh my god-" you panted, kneeling down.

"Go, go get 'em" Chandler coughed, weakly turning to look at you as he lay on the pavement."Go on, baby. Go kick their asses and get my kets.”

You exhaled, nodding and speeding after the men, past the two guys with Ross and grabbing the back collar of one of the thieve's shirt.

The sudden half stopped the second thief, giving that enough time for Ross to knock him in the face.

You grunted, bringing a clean swing to the guy you had a hold on. You grabbed the hat when he dropped it, kicking him in his legs and punching him across the face again. You turned to the one Ross got, kicking him in the stomach.

"Nice shots, (Y/n)" Ross panted, turning to you.

You panted, watching as the two guys finished the thieves off. “Thanks. Lets go get Chandler.”

***

You walked at Chandler's side as he lead the five of you into Central Perk, gently touching his lip to see if he was bleeding

"God! That was- that was amazing, that was incredible! You guys- you guys kicked butt" Ross praised, sitting on the couch.

"Us? What about you guys?" The guy in the denim coat asked, lightly punching your shoulder. “Your mysterious friend here really had that first guy's ass. Man, you really gave it to ol' mister clean back there, he was a big guy.”

You nodded smiling softly s you helped Chandler sit down.

"Yea, he was, wasn't he?" Ross asked, turning to Chandler.

Chandler smiled mockingly. “Yea, I wouldn't know, having missed everything, like my boyfriend kicking ass for me" he hissed, holding your hand. Chandler glanced up at you, "thanks again, for stepping in, by the way.”

You smiled down at him, "I'd fight anyone in the world for you. And don't be so hard on yourself, any one of you guys could've tripped over that little girl's jump rope.”

The guy in the leather coat turned to you, then the guy in the denim coat did the same."Wait, so you wouldn't-" "hold on, your boyfriend?"

You raised your eyebrows, holding one of Chandler's hands in both of yours. “I'm very coordinated, or so I've been told. And yes, boyfriend. Is there a problem with that?" You asked, gaze turning cold. You tilted your head as the two men shook their heads, looking scared of what you'd do to them. You smiled, "good.”

"So, listen, are we...?" Ross turned to the two men in coats. “Guys, are we, uh, are we okay here?"

"Oh, they better be okay, there. I just whooped a guys ass for all your keys and jewelry in Chandler's hat" you scoffed, bring his hand to your lips for a quick kiss, catching Chandler's smile on his face when you did.

The man in the leather nodded, as did the man in the denim. “We're okay" the latter told, Ross mumbling "alright.”

Chandler forced a chuckle, "okay, so can I have my hat back?"

After a couple beats of silence, the man in the denim said "no", shaking his head.

"Huh," Chandler nodded, turning away. In a flash, he was out of his seat, grabbed his hat off the man's head and ran behind the couch, but fell.

You jumped up and went around to check on him. “Idiot" you sighed lovingly, getting on top of him and hoisting him up by his shoulders. “Hey, Ross, help me bring Chandler back up?"

***

"Look at her" Phoebe said, all seven of you turning your attention to Monica in a costume behind the counter of the diner she worked at.

"Hi, Monica!" Chandler chirped, having you giggle and lightly shove him. He had a window seat and you sat beside him with his arm around you, Joey beside you and Rachel, Ross and Phoebe across from you.

Monica looked up, with her fake, pink glasses and puffy, blonde wig. Her jaw dropped when she saw all of you, and you saw her groan in embarrassment.

"Hey, nice boobs!" Phoebe called, as the rest of you waved at her.

"Guys, guys, check this out" Chandler whispered, turning to the napkin holders. He input a coin at the top, and pressed one of the buttons on the bottom, swinging his head back over to the counter when the familiar beginning of YMCA start playing.

"Oh my god-" you cackled, turning to look for Monica through the legs of the other workers, who were all up on the counter, already starting to dance. Chandler, you, and the others all smiled and started nodding to the beat, Chandler's grip around you pulling you closer to himself. You laughed with the other when Monica got up at the end of the counter and danced in a mediocre fashion, which was worth it because of the ringing of a beautiful sound in your ears- Chandler's laughter. You knew of no sound better than Chandler's laughing, so you turned around to catch a glimpse of his smile.

He nodded at you. “What?"

"Nothing, just..." you slowly licked your lips. “Just wanted to see you smile.”

"Aww, aren't you cute" Chandler cooed, leaning in and softly kissing you. “I love you, (Y/n). And, seriously, thanks for coming with Ross 'n' me earlier.”

"No prob, baby. I love you too, Chandler.”

Chandler gazed at you for a while longer, breaking the heartfelt moment when he dumped a handful of coins on the table. He winked at you as the group all dove in to take as many coins as they could, sure to use them to make Monica dance more using the machine. You joined in too, desperate for more of Chandler's happiness.

#friends #chandler #chandler bing #chandler bing x male #chandler bing x male!reader #male!reader #male x male #male reader #x male reader #chandler x male #chandler x male!reader #reader x male

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vertigoseokjin · 4 years

Text

Break my Heart Again

Sweet Pea x Y/N x Reggie (requested)

Break my Heart Again: FINNEAS

Warning: this displays a toxic poly!relationship and self hate, hints at an abusive relationship

I’m so sorry this took forever to post! Also the ending isn’t that fluffy but-

could i request a poly! with pea, reggie & reader where pea is busy with a new, girl, serpent & reg is helping another girl for something & the reader feels jealous & neglected? angsty with a fluffy ending pls!! :)

Loud laughter echoes through your shared trailer, a sound that usually warms your heart. Yet, today, you only feel uneasy walking into you and your boyfriend's house. There's a motorcycle you've never seen parked outside, and a pair of woman's shoes that definitely don't belong to you.

Although your relationship is made out of three people, Reggie's the only one who resides on the Northside. In order to lessen the living costs, you and Sweet Pea decided to move into a trailer together shortly after the start of your relationship.

It always worked out, the three of you have never fought. Yes, you bickered very often. But that was inevitable when Reggie Mantle and Sweet Pea were anywhere near each other. Yet, you all knew you loved each other. Sure, things have been a bit tense recently, but you brushed it off as stress from school and Serpent things. But now you can't help but wonder if something else has been happening.

"Pea?" You nervously call out, slipping off your own shoes and coat. "Pea, are you home?" You can't help the small crack in your voice when you call his name.

When there's no response, you decide to venture a little further into the trailer, finally making it to the bedroom.

Taking a deep breath, you knock gently on the door. "Pea? Babe, are you okay?" Again, no response. Before you can knock again, the door flies open. You flinch back at the sound of the wood colliding with the wall.

"What?" Your eyes widen, shocked at the hostile acknowledgement directed towards you. "Are you going to say anything?" His tone becomes increasingly louder and aggressive.

"I-is everything okay?" You speak through tears, already feeling choked up. Sweet Pea nor Reggie have ever screamed at you the way he is now.

"Everything was okay. Before you decided to piss me off." The tall boy practically growls while rolling his eyes, before walking back into the room and plopping onto the bed. That's when you notice the girl.

She's laying comfortably on your side of the bed, holding your laptop.

As soon as Sweet Pea lays down, she snuggles closer to him, the pair already ignoring you again.

"Pea? Who is this?" The words come out cautiously, not wanting him to blow up again.

"Charlie." He answers simply, no other explanation coming with his introduction. He presses 'play' on the movie they were watching, and the pair immediately burst out in laughter again.

"Pea..." you try again, immediately regretting your decision when Sweet Pea huffs loudly and harshly slams your laptop shut.

"What? Can't you see we're doing something! What the hell is wrong with you?!" He rapidly begins approaching you, causing you to back away in panic.

Sweet Pea never hit you, or any of his past girlfriends, before, but he also never spoke to you in such a... hateful tone. Rather than striking you like you were expecting, he slams the door shut. You shake the shock from your body, before rushing to the front door to escape Pea's rage.

With nowhere else to go, you find yourself walking in the direction of your other boyfriend's house.

Hurriedly wiping the tears from your red face, you knock gently on the door.

"I got it!" Another feminine voice shouts, not sounding like his mom's or sister's. The door opens to reveal a beautiful, tall girl. She looks to be about your age, with curly brunette hair and seemingly perfect features. Just staring at her adds to your insecurities. "Hey! I don't think we've met, I'm Jennie!" Even her stupid name and personality are perfect.

"H-hi. I...I'm (Y/N)." You fail at matching her enthusiasm. "Is Reggie home?" You force yourself to ask.

"Yeah! I'll run in and get him!" She practically skips into the house, shortly returning with a smiling Reggie. Unfortunately, his smile falls the second he sees you.

"What are you doing here?" He rolls his eyes as he speaks.

"J-just missed you..." you mumble. "I didn't know you were busy, I'm sorry. I'll go..." you drag your feet down the stairs, wishing he'd even say bye in response, but all you get is the door slamming shut.

You begin dragging your feet down the road, unsure where to go now.

Instinctively, you find yourself in front of your best friend's house, Jughead Jones. You almost talk yourself out of knocking due to fear of annoying him too, but there's nowhere else to go.

You knock quietly, the door almost flying open right away.

"(Y/N)? Sweet Pea asked me to look out for you, is everything okay?" You stare at him confused, why would Sweet Pea care about me? "(Y/N)?" Him calling your name again snaps you out of your violent thoughts.

"Sorry! I was just... yeah everything's fine. Can I come in?" You blurt out. He nods uncertainly, but steps over to let you in. "Why did Sweet Pea ask to look out for me?"

"Something about you rushing out with his jacket? I don't know, but he sounded busy." He shrugs uncaring. You look down and notice you are wearing Sweet Pea's signature jacket. You sigh, realizing he doesn't actually care about you. He just needs his jacket. "Everything okay?" He seats himself on the couch, patting the spot next to him.

"Yeah..." you simply mumble, not wanting to get into details about your failing relationship.

"I don't think you'd be here if that was true." He dryly chuckles.

"It's whatever, Jug. Can I spend the night? Thanks." You get up quickly, wanting to avoid the conversation. You hear his delayed yes, but still make a beeline to his spare room.

"I know you don't want to talk, but maybe a date at Pop's with them would clear things up? The three of you should sit and talk." Jughead suggests, leaning on the door frame. You almost laugh at how well he's able to read any situation.

"You're right, I just don't feel like dealing with it right now. They're busy anyway."

"Busy? With what? Charlie?" Your eyes almost bug out of your head.

"You know Charlie?" You almost shout at him.

"Newest Serpent." Jughead states factually. "Sweet Pea threw a tantrum about initiation, got her in without doing the dance." He can't stop the eye roll that comes with his words, where you get chills from remembering your own initiation.

"Really? Do you know anything about her?"

"Not really, she's quiet though. I never really got a chance to speak to her." You release another sigh at his words.

"I bet she's nice. And pretty." A loud groan escapes your mouth following your rant. "Reggie has a new girl too, and she's perfect. I can't compete." Jughead smiles sadly, sitting next to you and hugging you close.

"You don't need to compete, (Y/N). You're perfect." You can't help but let your mood rise a bit after his words.

"You always know how to make me feel better, Juggie."

"Of course. Get some rest, alright? Talk to them tomorrow." He ruffles your hair messily, before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You're able to sleep with your spirits lifted a little.

___________________________________________________________________________

The next day, the three of you decided to meet at Pop's for lunch.

You leave Jughead's with a heavy heart after he leaves a gentle kiss to your forehead, in a perfectly brotherly manner.

After the fairly short walk, you decide to get a booth, knowing they tend to arrive late.

You're hoping to get a fixed relationship out of the conversation.

However, you're met with surprise when you see four seated at a booth, instead of two like you were expecting.

Reggie, Sweet Pea, Charlie, and Jennie are all seated together.

You cautiously walk up to their table, unsure how to act.

"Hey (Y/N)!" Jennie says cheerfully. "We ordered fries for you!" She pushes a plate full of clearly half eaten fries in your direction. You still crack a little smile at the the effort.

"I... I just thought it was gonna be the three of us?" You ask weakly, still standing over their booth. Rather than a response from the two you came to meet, Jennie pops in again with a small gasp.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know we were intruding! Here, me and Charlie can grab another table!" Jennie goes to collect her stuff, before being stopped by Reggie.

"No, it's fine. I don't know why she's acting like that." Reggie rolls his eyes, Sweet Pea and Charlie still not even bothering to look at you.

"Reggie, it's really our fault. We should've known it was a date when you said (Y/N) was coming." The bright smile still doesn't leave her face.

"It's okay, sorry Jennie." You finally force yourself to speak. "I was just a little confused, I'll pull a chair over." You leave to find an empty chair, dragging it over to the head of the table. Yet, once you sit, the group resume in their previous conversation, excluding you. You just sit quietly, pushing your plate of fries around, having lost your appetite from the interaction.

"Alright, I think we're gonna head home." Reggie finally acknowledges you. Jennie and he begin collecting their stuff, leaving you unsure on what to do.

All you want to do is lay down on your own bed, maybe cry a little, and just go to sleep. But you don't know if Sweet Pea and Charlie are going to your trailer.

"Yeah, us too." Sweet Pea follows, stretching as he gets up from the booth.

"Pea? Are you going home?" You finally gather the courage to ask, holding your breath as you wait for a response.

"Why?" He snaps again, still not looking at you.

Does he hate me that much he can't even look at me?

"I... I do-don't want to bother y-you guys if yo-you're going ba-back to the trailer." You struggle to get the words out.

"Good, cause we are." He rolls his eyes again, shoving past you, Charlie closely following.

"Hey, (Y/N), Reggie and I were going to head back to my place. Would you want to come? We're probably watching a movie or something." She smiles sweetly at you, but you still let yourself be swayed by the look of disgust on Reggie's face.

"It's alright, but thank you for the offer." You mumble, staring at your torn up shoes.

"Are you sure? Don't you live with Sweet Pea? Where are you spending the night?"

"I'll figure it out, Jennie. But thank you for caring." You try to give her a genuine smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"Alright, good night (Y/N)!" Her and Reggie leave you sitting alone in the chair you pulled over, once again not knowing where to go.

After a deep sigh and covering your face with your hands, you pull yourself up and let your feet guide you. Talking yourself out of bothering Jughead again, you decide to break into his father's office instead.

FP Jones barely uses it anyway, it's more of a storage room. But, lucky for you, there's a recliner big enough for you to spend the long night.

You sadly curl up on the chair, allowing yourself to shed a few tears, before calling it a night. _____________________________________________________________________

Unfortunately, a voice wakes you before your alarm goes off.

"Kid, what the hell are you doing?" You roll off the sofa in surprise, making eye contact with the owner of the office you broke into.

"Mr. Jones! Sorry! I was going to leave in the morning but I fell asleep... I'm so sorry. I'll clean everything up an-" he simply holds a hand up to silence you.

"Don't worry about it. You didn't even touch anything." You sigh in relief, feeling thankful for your close relationship with him. "But you are going to explain to me what you're doing in my office at the ass crack of dawn." He plops himself down on his office chair, scanning your disheveled appearance.

"I don't really wanna talk about it..." you mumble, trying to get out of the situation.

"Then you shouldn't have broken into my office. C'mon, spill." A deep sigh escapes your lips, before you finally nod in defeat.

"It's Sweet Pea and Reggie," your voice is barely audible, too embarrassed to properly speak to the gang leader about your relationship drama.

"They hurting you?" His posture immediately stiffens into a defensive stance, causing panic to course through you.

"No! Of course not! They'd never, Mr. Jones."

"Then what's the problem?"

"They've just been ignoring me, I guess." You mumble sadly.

"Charlie?" You hate how the Jones's know you so well. You're unable to hide any thought or problem from them.

"...yeah, and this other Northsider. Jennie. They're... perfect, Mr. Jones. And I'm not. I can't blame them." He responds to your self hate with a soft sigh, not knowing how to respond.

Teenage problems have changed a lot since he was growing up.

"Don't put yourself down like that, kid." FP replies with uncertainty, never really the best at advice. His dad would just smack him over the head and tell him to get his shit together.

"It's okay, Mr. Jones. I'll get going, thank you for letting me stay the night."

"Course, Charlie. My office is always open for you to break in to." You try to smile in response, but the smile doesn't reach your eyes. Then, you swiftly exit his office, still embarrassed from being caught in the first place.

You sigh to yourself, still so confused.

When did everything get so complicated?

_______________________________________________________

You walked over to Jughead's house again, still temporarily homeless. As always, he welcomes you happily, deciding to kill time by cuddling and watching a movie. Always unable to stay awake during movies, you feel your eyes drifting shut right after Jughead points out the most important part. Still, you rest your head fully on Jughead's shoulder and pull him a little closer.

"Hey, your phone's blowing up." He rasps, shaking you awake gently. You thanked him softly, squinting as the light from your phone burned your eyes. You were shocked when you saw your phone practically flooded with texts from Sweet Pea and Reggie. "Who's it?" He slurs, tiredness obviously hindering his actions.

"Pea and Reg." You mumble, throwing your phone to the side.

"You're not responding?" He woke up a little more at the sound of the names causing you so much distress.

"No." You answer firmly, with no thought, just holding him tighter. Jughead releases a quiet laugh at your answer, but has no problem with accepting it.

They can wait.

________________________________________

Later that night, you finally forced yourself to answer their endless calls and texts. Your phone is filled with panicked texts and voicemails wondering where you disappeared to.

You roll over on the bed you decided to share with Jughead for the night, seeing he's still asleep. Not wanting to bother him, you slowly roll out of his bed, leaving him a note about your situation.

You call Sweet Pea, curious of his sudden care towards you.

"Hey," you're so shocked of him answering right away you forget to respond. "Babe?"

"Yea-Yeah! Hi!" You almost shout.

"Reg and I were wondering if you want to have a movie night? We haven't seen you in a while." You hold back a scoff, choosing to keep the air clear.

"O-okay. Can I come over now?" You ask weakly. You almost want to ask if Charlie and Jennie are going to be there, but you hold yourself back. You start walking in the direction of Reggie's house, assuming the movie night is hosted by him as usual. The walk isn't too long, maybe 15 minutes, and the weather was nice so you weren't complaining. You really did miss them.

"Of course. Meet us at Reggie's." Always a man of few words, you assume the conversation is over there. However, you bring the phone back to your ear when you hear them speak again.

"Hello?" But you go unanswered.

"I don't know, Reg. She's been getting on my nerves lately." You don't want to eavesdrop, but you're unable to help it. You know you should hang up, but your relationship has been on the verge of completely falling apart, and you'd do almost anything if it even gave you a chance at fixing it.

"(Y/N)? I know what you mean." You can almost hear the eye roll that came along with the agreement. "She's so clingy. It was cute at first, but I don't know if I can keep up."

"...we shouldn't make it too obvious though, right? We have been ignoring her recently, she doesn't deserve that." A gentle smile cracks through your face when you hear the little concern he has for you, but it quickly fades at the remembrance of their previous words.

"I mean, I guess." You can almost hear the shrug that comes with those words, Sweet Pea needs to maintain his careless persona.

Finally deciding you heard enough, you hang up and gather the courage to knock on the door.

"Coming!" Reggie's deep voice shouts. The door flies open quickly, his smiling face greeting you.

"Hi." You say quietly, genuinely not wanting to annoy them with the sound of your voice.

"Hey babe!" Reggie exclaims, coming closer to embrace you.

How can he be acting so normal? You ask yourself.

"Hey." You utter another greeting, but trying to avoid his hug.

"Babe? Is everything okay?" Slipping off your shoes and dropping your bag neatly by the door, you respond with a gentle nod. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I just think I'm coming down with something..." your voice lowers in volume with every word, eyes drifting to stare at the floor.

"Really? Do you need tea? Medicine? PEA! Boil some hot water!" Reggie commands, coming closer to try and embrace you again, to which you back away quickly.

"No! It's okay!" You internally panic at the thought of bothering Sweet Pea with your needs. "I don't need anything, I'm fine." Reggie still stares at you uncertainty, but accepting the odd behavior.

"...okay, just let us know if you need anything. We missed you!" You only nod in response, trying to reduce the amount of times you speak to them in a day.

"Hi, sweetheart." Another deep voice sounds from behind you. You flinch at the sudden appearance, turning to face your other boyfriend. "You feeling okay?" Instead of allowing a gentle forehead kiss to happen, something that always helped you relax, you rapidly nod your head so he doesn't attempt to come closer than he already is.

"I'm fine." You squeak out again, walking past both of them to sit on the couch.

The pair share a suspicious look behind your back, before shrugging and coming to join you on the couch.

Sweet Pea beats Reggie to the spot next to you, immediately pulling you closer to him and attempting to cuddle with you. However, you hurriedly shove his arm off, moving to sit on the recliner positioned diagonal from the couch.

"I think I'm sick, I don't want to give you my virus." You make up on the spot, curling up in a ball in your seat.

"Babe, it's alright if you're sick. We don't care." Reggie approaches you slowly, placing his hands on the arms of the chair, caging you in so you can't run again. "It'll be more comfortable if you sit on the couch with us, come on."

"I just feel hot, Reggie. It's cooler over here." You mumble again, curling under the blanket draped over the recliner. He sends you an odd look, but shrugs when he realizes he's in a losing battle.

"Alright..." he takes a seat next to Sweet Pea, the pair sharing a blanket with their eyes glued to the movie playing. You smile sadly at the sight of them sitting together. They look... perfect. It only adds to how out of place you've been feeling lately. You sitting in the middle of them would just ruin the picture perfect image.

Another gentle sigh escapes you, but you try to focus on the movie instead of them.

"Hey, babe, don't you like that actor?" Reggie asks, but you just nod stiffly, not even sure what or who they're talking about. You've long since zoned out of the movie, you wouldn't even be able to tell them the title if they asked. You miss the look they exchange, the only actors on the screen are from an infomercial about adult diapers. Something's clearly wrong with you.

"Okay, do we need to talk about something?" Sweet Pea finally cuts through the awkwardness, turning the TV off. "You're acting weirder than normal." He directs towards you, but you still refuse to make eye contact.

"No." A short answer, still trying to not talk around them.

"(Y/N), it'll be easier if you just talk to us." Reggie tries to urge you into speaking. You finally lift your head up, looking rapidly between the two of them. "You know you can tell us anything." He smiles softly, trying to ease you into speaking. You shut your eyes tightly, before taking a deep breath.

"I think we should break up." You finally blurt out without thinking. The two boys' mouths widen in shock, not fully comprehending your words.

"Break up? Why?" Sweet Pea can't stop the anger flooding into his tone from your impulsive suggestion.

"Just... because." You mutter, not knowing how to vocalize your thoughts from the last month.

"Sweetie, we're gonna need more than a 'because' if you want to break up." Sweet Pea's naturally condescending tone makes you feel even worse about the situation.

"I-I don't know." You stupidly say, opting to stare at your hands.

"You don't know?" He stands up suddenly, rapidly walking towards you.

"Pea, calm down." Reggie snaps, blocking your body from Sweet Pea. "We're going to sit down and have a calm conversation, does that work for everyone?" You just nod, Sweet Pea rolling his eyes in anger.

"Whatever." He grumbles, sitting down in his previous seat on the couch.

"Baby, you have to have a reason." Reggie tries again.

"I just don't want to bother you anymore..." you mutter, tearing up slightly.

"Bother us?" Sweet Pea's tone softens slightly, but he's still in a slightly defensive stance.

"I mean... you guys have new people now." You chuckle slightly. "You don't really need me anymore. We haven't even talked in at least a month. You're all so happy with Jennie and Charlie, I don't want to be in the middle of it anymore." They stare at you in what you're assuming is anger. "I'll just go guys. I'm sorry for ruining your night." You get up quickly, making a beeline for the door. However, both of the men stop you, Sweet Pea picking you up and gently placing you back on the couch. You're surprised to see the tears in his eyes.

"Baby... baby we're so sorry." He cries into your shoulder, causing your own tears to fall.

"No, don't say sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't better for you." You choke out through sobs.

"That's not true." Reggie rasps, tears flooding his own eyes. The three of you sit huddled together on the couch, unable to speak anymore through the never ending sobs.

"We love you, baby." Sweet Pea finally breaks the silence, pressing a small kiss to her cheek after wiping her tears.

"We love you so much." Reggie adds, squeezing the both of you tighter. Their hearts break when they hear your little sobs and Sweet Pea goes to wipe your tears.

"Can we fix this?" You finally force yourself to ask, still not able to see a solution within the love they're giving you.

"Of course!" Reggie and Sweet Pea exclaim loudly.

"We'll do whatever we need to make up for it." Reggie tearfully promises, kissing your forehead.

You feel nothing but love being in their arms in this moment, but something doesn't feel right still.

You still have so many questions.

"But... why were you so mean?" In any other scenario, the boys would have swooned at how adorable your childlike tone came off. Yet, it only breaks their heart more. It's another reminder at how badly they messed up.

"I don't know, baby. I-"

"That's not good enough!" They also jump away in shock at your sudden outburst. Your voice hardly ever went past a gentle whisper. "I- you all made me feel worthless! I spent this past month wondering what I did wrong and I couldn't even go home because you and Charlie were always in our room! I need more than an I don't know." Your anger is radiating off of you, but you can only feel proud at finally standing up for yourself. But they just stare at you blankly. "If you don't have an answer, I'm going to go back to Jug's house until you know what you want from me."

"No, let's just sit and-"

"I waited a month, Reggie. I need an answer now."

"Honestly, we don't have one." Sweet Pea bluntly states. "I know you want an explanation and reasons, but we can't give you one. But we can give you a promise to never let it happen again. Hell, we won't even need to contact Charlie or Jennie ever again," Reggie nods in agreement, "so, can we try again?"

"Yeah, we're so sorry, baby." Reggie chimes in. "We love you more than anything and I can't believe how badly we messed up. Just give us a second chance, baby? Please?"

You know you shouldn't. Everything is screaming at you to run away back to your safety and forget about them, let them be happy with their new girls.

But... the amount of love in their eyes right now makes it hard to doubt their truthfulness.

"Okay." You mumble weakly. "Okay. Let's try again." You're suddenly tackled by two large figures, the three of you collapsing onto the couch. They start peppering every inch of your face and neck in kisses, causing giggles to erupt from all of you.

You suddenly feel like you won't regret this decision.

212 notes · View notes

kittensjonsa · 4 years

Text

Otherwise, Engaged

Summary: THE SMUT CHAPTER. Sansa reconsiders. Jon gets an unexpected wingman. They both come to terms. In more ways than one. All is good in the end. Aye. Very. Very. Good.

Me: Trashy Jonsa smut! Trashy Jonsa smut for everyone! Don't want it? Here it is anyway! Had to set up a cute scene here for the next and final chapter for our babies which I adapted from the movie because it was cute, but also added to the length a bit. BUT, if you're into Jonsa smut, read on..enjoy😂

Rated Quite E ( at least to me since it's been a while I've written something like this)

Chapter 1 - 8

Chapter 9

Tiny drops of water fell from above her. Sansa looked up and saw there was only a dim and flickering light that lit up where she sat with knees close to her chest. The rigid steel bars dug into her back as Sansa squirmed in her seat, a tiny space she carved for herself on the floor.

Sansa looked around. She was alone, cold and sweaty and confused. An empty bench stood opposite her and Sansa didn't dare touch it. She didn't dare move from her spot. She wanted to disappear, have the ground swallow her up. She'd rather that than face the sentence. She deserved it, for all the lying she had done to get what she thought was easily hers. It had finally caught up with her and she had to go through hell now. Only thing she wondered, where was Jon? Did he suffer the same fate? Or worse? Sansa sank her face onto her knees and sobbed. I shouldn't have. I really shouldn't have.

“Sansa…”

“Sansa..”

Soft voices with no faces kept calling her name. Sansa stood up slowly and crossed to the other side of the steel bars. Hello? She called out but there was not a sound that came out of her. Hello..

Sansa waited and took a deep breath. The air suddenly smelled of lemons. Huh.. lemons.

Sansa wondered where it came from. It was strange how a cell, empty and dark all around could suddenly smell like a bright summer's day, bringing her back to when she was twelve and watched her mother bake lemon cakes while she helped to mix the batter.

“Sansa..”

Lemon cakes are my favourite.. how did they know?

“Sansa.. wake up.”

“What..” Sansa rambled as her eyes fluttered open. Grey eyes twinkled and danced above her. Jon. His face was soft and smiling, his hand tenderly stroking her forehead. It was just a dream. Thank god.

“There you are,” Jon cooed. Sansa blinked at him. Her head was throbbing slightly as she tried to get up. “Easy there,” he chirped, holding her gently.

“Oh my dear girl! You scared us!” Gramps was the first to notice Sansa was awake from her fainting spell. One by one, her family crowded around, lovingly stroking her cheeks and head. Even little Rickon with a worried look on his face had his play stethoscope around his neck, which made Sansa smile a bit.

Jon still held on to her, his grip getting warmer by the minute. Sansa wiggled her hand to let go, even though she truly didn't want to but her father offered her a glass of water she could use.

“Are you all right? How are you feeling, sweetie?” Ned asked, cupping her chin as his thumb stroked her cheek like he always did, to comfort her whenever she had her little 'boo- boos'.

Sansa took a deep breath and a sip of water. “I am okay, I think. What just happened?”

“You fainted.” Robb stepped forward and bent down, his hand holding a half cut lemon. “I thought this would work. And it did.”

Sansa let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, I smelled lemons all of a sudden. That was weird for a minute.”

Talisa joined them and squeezed her hand, her eyes searching Sansa's as if looking for answers. Sansa didn't have any’ she herself was perplexed as they were. Panic attacks were not uncommon but it was unnerving how it came over her so strongly and in a flash.

“Do you need to see the doctor? I mean, we can call for one if you do. You know, if you're really not well and all.” Talisa's concerned tone sounded a little out of place. Of course, she didn't need a doctor, it was just a panic attack, plain and simple, Sansa thought.

Robb and Talisa looked at each other and then to Jon. It was a look that confused her even more in her dazed state.

“Honey, you know you can tell me anything, right?” Talisa continued. Sansa felt the seat next to hers sink slightly, as Jon shifted uncomfortably, his head bowed to his hands now interlocked and resting in his lap. Maybe she shouldn't have let go of his hand in the first place. The bout of uneasiness that surrounded Robb and Talisa remained. As if on cue, Robb stood up and moved away to sit on an armchair next to them, his eyes narrowing on her and Jon. Her family except for Robb and Talisa, seemed relieved, enough to resume whatever they were doing as Sansa observed everyone around her, though tension hung in the air still. Sansa wished she could read minds.

“Sansa.. are you.. I mean, if you are.. that's wonderful.” Talisa prodded and paused, trying to find the right words. It took a small flicker of her eyes to her lap for Sansa to finally understand what she was saying. Oh god no.

“Sansa.. are you pregnant?” a voice demanded and Talisa turned, giving Sansa full view of her mother glaring at her as she stood by the window.

Sansa gulped as heads suddenly turned back to her and Jon. Even her father had stopped whatever he was doing when her mother's voice boomed across the hall .

Sansa sighed. “No, Mom. I am not. It was just a panic attack, that was all.”

“Are you sure?”

I haven't had sex yet so yeah, unless I'm the Virgin Mary, I am most certainly not pregnant. “Yes, Mother I am sure. Absolutely positively not pregnant.”

“Right. You’ve never had panic attacks before.”

“Well, apparently, looks like.. now I do.. so,” Sansa sighed, staring her mother down, who had now directed her sneer at Jon. Jon had his face in his hands, as if shielding himself from whatever onslaught that was coming his way. Oh, good Lord.

“And I wonder why.”

That is it. She was done taking the passive-aggression and the non-stop negativity. “ You know what, Mom? People actually do suffer from these things okay? It’s just the world we live in nowadays! I'd appreciate for once if you could actually listen to me and hear to what I have to say and believe it. Why is that so hard for you? Maybe I should be pregnant because that's easier for you to believe won’t it? Since you think I keep screwing up my life all the bloody time,” Sansa growled, all the resentment and frustration propelling her up from her seat.

“Sansa, wait stop -” Jon tried to intervene. He clearly had no idea how it was like between warring females within the same family.

“Oh? Well.. Tell me how am I supposed to think any different? Huh? The moment you brought him home, to my house-”

“THAT'S ENOUGH!” a voice roared that shushed everyone in the room. Gramps shook his head in disappointment at Catelyn.

“I have had it with you! Stop it! Catelyn, you just have to accept that Sansa's a big girl now, whether you like it or not. She has her own life and she will live it as she wants. Your father did not raise you this way, so stop it. That is not the Tully way.” Gramps Brynden Tully wagged his finger at his niece.

“And Sansa, please, my dear girl, no one is stopping you from doing anything you want to do. We love you no matter what. Now, stop this nonsense and stop fighting! Let me have a birthday in peace and love, please, my little angel?” Gramps pleaded, his words punctuated with coughs as he clutched his chest.

“Gramps!” Sansa rushed to his side seeing Gramps crumble into an armchair.

“Oh my girl.. nothing would make me happier than seeing you get married. You and Jon. Say yes to him. I want to see you happy, now that I finally get to see you back at Winterfell. I don’t know how long I’ve got still. Get married, you two.. at the barn tomorrow. For me, your Gramps, eh? It would be so lovely. Will you do it?” Gramps huffed as his hands clasped on hers, taking deep breaths in between his sentences. Sansa's eyes filled to the brim with tears in mere seconds. No..please don't leave me Gramps.

Gramps wasn't making any sense and neither was she listening to any of it, but Sansa agreed anyway. “I will! I promise.”

Catelyn held his other hand, tears rolling down her cheeks. Everyone held on to each other, looking on worriedly and Jon inched his way towards Sansa, feeling absolutely terrible at the turn of events he had caused. Or at least, he was responsible for. Was this his punishment for going with this deplorable lie in the first place? Was it worth breaking the heart of an old man? The guilt was now a growing monster devouring everything and everyone in sight. All he wanted to do was to hold Sansa close. He needed her, even if she pulled away - Jon would still hold on and not let go.

“Please.. stop fighting. This is your family and she's your first daughter, Cat. You're proud of her, you love her so much. Don't drive her away.” Gramps coaxed as he wiped away Catelyn's tears.

“And Sansa, promise you'll be better with this family, come home when you can. Promise me.” Gramps heaved as he put Sansa's and Catelyn's hands together.

“Yes, yes I promise. Gramps.. I will,” Sansa wailed as she nuzzled into his shoulder.

“I will, Uncle. I.. I promise,” Catelyn sobbed, her tears on the brink of a torrential flood.

Gramps sighed and put both their hands down, closing his eyes. “Well then, I guess the gods can take me now.”

“Gramps!” everyone shrieked. Sansa wrapped her arms tightly around her granduncle as she sobbed uncontrollably.

“Hello? Uhh.. Hi I need you guys to come down, the Stark house? I think.. I think my Gramps is having a… a heart attack! Please send someone over-”

“Wait!”

Robb froze as Gramps suddenly sat up and stretched out in his armchair almost bumping Sansa on the head “No, no need. Give me the phone.”

Sansa wiped away her tears and slowly turned to see what was going on. Jon blinked away the tears as his vision came into focus and came face to face with the old man. Gramps gave him a sneaky double wink.

Huh.Okay.

Gramps patted Sansa's head, standing up as she watched him take the mobile from Robb.

“Yes, yes, sorry for the false alarm. We're fine now. Sorry Luwin. Say hi to your girls for me.. Yeah all good. You're coming tomorrow? Okay good. See you then.”

Silence filled the room and the sobs died down. Gramps shrugged. “I guess the gods aren't ready for me yet. Oh well.”

The looks shared among everyone were priceless. Until Ned broke out in laughter.

“You old dog! Pretending to have a heart attack? That's just nefarious!” Ned guffawed. Sansa had absolutely no clue what was going on.

“Uhh.. Gramps? You're.. you're okay?” Sansa asked in between sobs. This weekend was awful and now, just turned weird.

“I'm okay love. Sorry about that. I felt better after letting it all out.” Gramps gave a goofy grin as he thumped his chest. Ned roared louder this time, his hand clutching his sides in laughter and the young boys followed suit. The laughter was infectious. Catelyn was not amused however, swiping at her Uncle's arm.

“That.. was not funny!”

Sansa shook her head and heaved a sigh of relief. As did Jon. This family is so strange.

“Aye.. I think I need to lie down.” Catelyn rubbed her temples and left the room.

Gramps shurgged and turned to Sansa and Jon. “Now, you two, you promised, we have to get ready for a wedding tomorrow!”

Well, well. That was a neat trick.

Ned calmed down and sighed, his smile bright and wide. He hadn't laughed like that in ages. Trust Gramps to come up with that schtick at eighty. Ned grinned at the kids and Jon and went back to the kitchen. He had a wedding to prepare for now; that bit he did not miss nor was it a joke on Gramp's part. It was his ploy all along. Something about an unforgettable birthday gift.

“It'll be nice if a wedding anniversary fell on my birthday. What a way to be remembered eh?” Ned recalled last night, the old man said in jest, over a glass of whiskey. Except he wasn't. Nonetheless, Ned was absolutely ecstatic. It was a grand idea. A great birthday gift for Gramps and my little girl, getting married.

“Okay.. I uhh .. I'm gonna head to my room.. uhh.. Jon.. right..okay,” Sansa fumbled as she made her way to the stairs. Jon followed. He didn't know what else to do and he'd be damned if left alone with the rest of her family. Not after that.

“Uhh.. sorry about that. That was.. weird.” Sansa said. Jon watched as she sat down on the bed, brows furrowed, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“Uhh.. yeah. Wow.. I had no idea.”

“Yeah.. me too.” Sansa snorts and leaned back on her hands.

“Are you feeling all right, though?”

Sansa nodded. “I am. Sorry.. I just didn't know what came over me and passed out like that.”

Jon cautiously crossed over and sat next to her. He still hadn't gotten his answer yet. The ring was still in his shirt pocket.

“Did I cause that? The panic attack?”

Would he gloat if I say he did? Sansa wasn't in the mood to argue or tolerate any more of Jon's usual nonsense.

“Well, yes. I.. I thought you were going to tell everyone what we were doing. About the visa, the deportation.. I panicked, I guess.”

“Ah. I see.” Jon paused as he recalled the words he said when he made the announcement. An announcement leading up to a proposal, it had gone so well in his head. Perhaps the way he said was bordering on ominous. My bad.

“Then.. I realised you weren't and I just got so surprised and panicked at the same time.. so yeah,” Sansa added further, explaining herself. It was embarrassing and trite now that she thought of it. Fainting, really?

“So.. you didn't expect that? When I proposed.”

Sansa quietly nodded as his eyes met her reddening face.

Jon sighed. What was he going to do, with a hopelessly beautiful creature that was Sansa?

“You know.. I bet there's one thing that you don't know about me.” Jon smirked at her, changing the subject in an effort to get her undivided attention now. And there he is, Jon fucking Snow. Sansa sighed, resigned to the probable fact that nothing was ever going to go her way throughout the entire weekend, with only one day more to go. And now there's wedding they had to go through. Oh god.

“And.. what's that?”

Jon's eyes slowly came on her, grey on blue, a brief but palpable electric charge ignited and hung in the air between them. But then Jon paused, remembering what he had to do, breaking the eye contact as he fished out the ring from his pocket.

“This,” Jon held up a gold ring, which appeared to be a classically cut wedding ring, banded with small sapphires that circled around a small diamond, “belonged to my late mother. Only thing left of hers that I keep close to me always. In my wallet, with my father's ring. Sort of my lucky charms you could say.”

Oh. She didn't know that.

“And,” Jon added, “it's what.. I want to give to you,” his hand resting on her thigh, as the ring gleamed in his open palm.

“Sansa, I meant what I said. You and I, we are a team. I.. I can't imagine a life without you in it. Not at work, not ever in my life. Because.. you've made it so much better and I would be the biggest fool for not seeing that.”

Oh... the proposal. Sansa kept silent. Jon didn't want to stop. He had to go on, and try before it was too late.

Sansa let out a small gasp as Jon knelt down before her again, pulling her left hand with him. He slid the ring onto her ring finger and Sansa could only watch breathlessly. Oh my god.. he really is proposing.

Jon tried once more. “I ask again.. Sansa, will you.. marry me?”

Sansa brought up her left hand to take a closer look at the ring. It was so beautiful.

“For real?”

Jon inched closer on his knees and came to rest his chin on her lap, smiling like an angel. A breathtaking man. “For real. No more pretending. I know I can't any longer.”

Sansa could now understand why being proposed to was such a big deal. This was beyond being desired for her body or whatever she thought proposals meant to be like, this was something her heart wanted but could not put into words.

“Sansa? You-”

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

There it was again - the feel of his lips soft and pliable against hers, as her tongue slid into his warm mouth, hungry for more.

“Ohh.. Sansa..”

A small whimper escaped her as Jon clamped his hand down on her neck, as his lips ghosted along her collarbone and roamed further down south where his other hand pinched at her breast. Oh my.. heavenly.

“Is.. this a yes..?”

Sansa nodded, sighing on his skin. “To.. everything..”

Jon stopped suddenly, his eyes searching her face. But this time Sansa waited, since the sight of Jon hovering above her snatched her breath completely. There wasn't any hesitation this time and there was no vodka involved. She couldn't taste any. This is Jon, it’s him. But Jon got up anyway.

Sansa opened her mouth to protest when Jon went to their door. And locked it.

He returned but stood facing her. No words were needed between them. Slowly, Jon took off his shirt and unbuckled his belt, his eyes completely mesmerized by her delicate beauty. Sansa watched his body moving ever so teasingly, stripping bare before her very eyes.

Sansa's hand crept up to the buttons of her own cardigan, regretting for a moment for not removing it earlier. Sansa paused when Jon made a sound that made her stop.

“Tsk. I believe that's my present to open. Stay.. still.”

Sansa obeyed. Jon unzipped his jeans next, in the most titillating way Sansa had ever seen a man unzip a pair of trousers, revealing tight boxer trunks that were visibly bulging. And what a sight it was.. to behold.

Jon sauntered over to the bed and curled his finger at her to come closer. “Take it off. This, ” Jon took her hand and placed it on the waistband of his trunks, “is yours now. Do you… want it?”

Sansa swallowed. In a span of a breath, all words in her vocabulary vanished into the unknown. For the next few moments, Sansa didn't think she would be able to speak.

Jon's skin was hot and taut to the touch as the boxers slid down his tanned muscular legs Sansa gasped as the meaty rod sprung before her, the most private part of him that Sansa never imagined in her life she would ever bear witness to. It was majestic. Veiny, solid and standing tall and erect, it was nothing like she pictured in her mind. Actually the thought had never crossed her mind at all. And yet here we are. And pointing right at her, as if she was his destination all along. Mine, it says.

Entranced by Jon’s erect cock, Sansa pawed at it, her soft fingers grazing his length and Jon sighed - the most obscene sounding moan that immediately sent a gush down in her panties. She had to remove them sooner or later. She didn't realize how easily drenched she could get. So soft yet so hard..

“My turn now..”

Jon's fingers pinched at the buttons of her cardigan, something she had thrown over the dress he almost ripped to shreds hours earlier that day. Oh, this is much better, Jon thought.

Sansa watched his hands and his handsome face as he did the buttons, her hands gently gripping his wrists as if urging him on. Somehow, Sansa sensed Jon wished to take his time. She was his present after all. She liked that word. Her gift of herself to him. There was nothing more she could offer except all of her; heart, body and soul.

“I like opening my presents… don't you?” Jon teased, licking his lips in anticipation. Sansa licked her lips watching Jon, ready to pounce on him, given the chance. Soon.

Sansa nodded as the cardigan left her and found its spot on the floor. Jon had crawled up closer than ever, one knee bent down on the bed causing his swollen member standing only mere inches from her face. It was the perfect distance between her tongue and his cock, Sansa gathered and she couldn't resist.

“Ahhh… you impatient girl,” Jon hissed, caught by surprise as Sansa stuck out her tongue and lapped gently at the sides of his cock. Jon gripped the lapels of her dress as he buckled under the heat of her mouth.

“You want it..huh? Give me your mouth baby... right here.” Jon licked his fingers and smeared his spit on the tip. Sansa didn't need to be told twice.

“Ahh.. good girl.. shit...”

It was bliss in between her lips. Soft yet rock hard and it was fascinating as it was delicious. Sansa was absolutely ravenous now, as she opened her mouth wider and sank down on Jon's cock. His hands cupped the back of her neck, gently guiding her and groaned at every bop of her head. Her dress was only half undone and Sansa took it upon herself to finish the job one-handed.

Jon was completely out of it, as his eyes shuttered close and hands grabbing hold of her on the sides of her head, moving along to Sansa's bobbing. His cock bathed copiously in her spit as Sansa devoured every single inch of him. She was now as naked as her new fiance and found herself sticky and dripping wet between her thighs. A gnawing grew stronger deep in her loins and proved too much when Sansa found her own fingers sliding up and down her snatch.

“ Ahh.. ” Sansa moaned, her eyes fluttered close as she released her mouth from Jon. She was hot and ready, to be ravaged. Sansa was burning inside. Who knew all this felt so good?

“Oh my god.. you sexy girl..you,” Jon panted as he gently coaxed her down, supine on her bed; her virginal bed, soft, sweet and unconquered as she was.

“Let me,” Jon smiled devilishly, peppering kisses down her legs as he hoisted them high above his head to get to the part where no man had ever been before. Jon took a long deep whiff, of Sansa's heady and sweet musk, greeting him as he lowered his head - and Sansa's guard, allowing him to take the most prized possession she had within her.

“Ahhhh… Jon!” Sansa's high pitched squeal was music to his ears as Sansa writhed at the firm brush of his tongue against her dripping cunt. And it was only the first of many. Jon had no idea how great this was going to be. Fuck yes..so delicious. He'd eat her every day from now on.

Jon pressed on, sucking on her flesh and turning her insides out with his greedy tongue. Sansa held on to her sheets, hanging on to them for dear life. Oh, god..yes! It was sweet torture and in the most exquisite ways imaginable. She had always known Jon had a glib tongue but this was new to her and she loved it. More..

A tiny nip of Jon's mouth, on a tiny nub of flesh had Sansa jump from the bed. Oh my god. There was buzzing in her head and it only got louder. There it is. A tiny button above her opening where Jon persisted on with his teeth and tongue - ripped Sansa to shreds. Oh god.. what's happening..

“Jonnnn... unnfff… fuck,” Sansa grunted. Her legs shook as Jon continued, this time an alternating of sucking and licking that drove her mad for more.

“Oh my god.. Jon.. ahh.. fuck!”

Sansa shoved her hand into her mouth and chomped down on her fingers, desperate to stifle a throaty scream - one that rose from the very spot where Jon kept at, a tornado spinning wildly inside of her, spinning so fast and hard she couldn't and didn't want get out of. Sansa felt the insides of her twitch and pulsate so strongly it sent sharp luscious quivers right down to her core and Sansa felt her body jerk and.. float - mid air. FUCK!

Trembling and shaking in his hands, Jon knew when he had to ease up, seizing hold of her legs tight around his head as he watched her slowly settle down from her first orgasm. It was beautiful as he spied on her, eyes glazed over and staring into space, overtaken and stunned by the divine high he had brought her to. She was more wet than ever, cunt swollen and plump, ready for the taking.

It was time.

“Baby girl.. I have to take you now,” Jon crawled up to her, seeking her face and mouth again.

Sansa could only nod, her eyes brimming with wild hunger for him, as such as he had never seen before, in anyone. His heart swelled at the revelation. Sansa laid before him, absolutely gorgeous and glowing, her red hair splayed wildly on on the sheets, skin glistening with sweet sweat. How did he end up here, a lucky bastard that he is. All the more he was ecstatic that she was his, and his alone.

“I am going to fuck you.. so hard.. you'll be begging for more,” Jon whispered wantonly as he positioned his rock hard cock at her opening. Sansa was so wet and ready, it wouldn't hurt if he pushed in all the way. That was what he wanted -ram in all the way, right up to the hilt of his cock. Give her all of him as their bodies join as one.

“You ready for me?”

Sansa opened her legs wider in response, her eyes beckoning him to claim what was his. Jon’s groaned as her heated flesh brushed against his tip. He loved how much she lapped up and crave for every bit of his touch.

“Unnhhh… Jonnn!”

Jon let out a growl as he took a large bite of her shoulder. He never had a virgin cunt before and the way her walls clung onto him, Jon gave in, to an animalistic howl he was sure the entire house heard loud and clear. It was a vise grip Jon did not expect and the slightest movement would render him undone completely.

But he wanted to make Sansa's first time unforgettable. Taking a deep breath, Jon pulled back slowly and agonisingly, hissing in reluctance not wanting to leave her amazing cunt but Sansa's guttural moans forced him to. It had only been less than a minute. Anymore pushing and hearing Sansa moaning his name, he’d be done for the day. Fuck..

“Fuck! Aww.. baby.. you feel too.. good.. fuck.” Jon looked down, biting hard on his lip, hypnotized by the way her flesh gripped his own bulging rod so tightly as it moved along in tandem with every stroke. Shit! I'm going to come..

Sansa’s hooded eyes met his, her face flushed red in ecstasy. Jon looked away and kissed her neck. It was too much for him; her eyes, her hair and gorgeous face.

“Come inside me.. I'm yours Jon.. take me.”

“Yeah?” Jon grunted, pounding harder and deeper into her tightness.

How she heard him in his head, Jon had no idea but it was too much. “ Yeah..? You sure.. baby?” Baby indeed. There was more than a year of pent up frustration trapped in his balls; a release would mean more than just relief.

Sansa nodded and whimpered as she pushed herself against his cock. Jon dug into the crook of her neck and bit down, leaving marks all over, not caring if they were going to bruise tomorrow. He grabbed handfuls of her sides and squeezed, needing something to hold on to before he leapt to the point of no return.

“I.. want.. to.. put.. my.. baby.. in.. you,” Jon heaved and growled at every thrust, going hard and fast, urged on by the thought of his Sansa with a swollen belly had him straight into overdrive.

“Fuck..yes!” Sansa complied, her body bumping hard against his at every stroke he gave with all his might.

The final thrust pushed them both over the edge. Sansa let out a shriek and Jon sucked in a breath and howled once more as her walls engulfed him and contracted around his flesh - drinking in ribbon after ribbon of seed spurting furiously out of him, coating every inch of her insides.

“FUCK!!” they both panted in unison. Sansa writhing against him as her whole body went into another sexy orgasmic shock and Jon feeling his legs go from under him.

If that was a first for Sansa, it was a first for him too.

Jon had given himself to her and herself to him and such was the power and energy that flowed from between them. He had never experienced anything like it. Jon could not put into words, what they had - intense, beautiful and almost divine. Seemed that it wasn't just about being with someone who was untouched or pure in a manner, but a deeper connection, an earth-shattering truth that numbed him into silent reverie.

Their souls held hands and made a deep dark mark on one another; knowing he would forever be bound to her. It was no wonder they both affected each other so much and so deeply ever since the first time they met. The sexual energies between them had always been bubbling underneath; Jon was just too good at repressing his own needs and Sansa was too inexperienced to know she had any.

Three years and a federal violation was all it took. The thought amused him to no end, considering where they were now. Newly engaged and newly fucked till the ends of the Earth. Or at least he was planning to. That, was nowhere near enough. For him, at least. Jon guessed he'd never get enough of her, now that he had her and he hoped the feeling was mutual.

Sansa reached out to Jon and pulled his body closer, meshing with hers as they both basked in utter bliss. Jon was completely spent, his heart fighting to slow its frenzied pace as he pressed his face into Sansa’s hair, taking in deep healing breaths of her scent. Jon brushed off a damp clump from her face, so he could gaze at her, in awe.

“Sansa?”

“Hmm?” Sansa hummed in response, her voice sweet and tender. Her eyes were closed but her lips curled into a smile.

“I.. love you. I.. fucking love you.”

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fic #the proposal au #modern jonsa au #the smut chapter is here #there will be babies #at the rate they're going maybe ten babies #last chapter left

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qweeby · 4 years

Text

Nine Lives To Short Part 1:First Life of Many

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡💔

Pairing Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader!

Genre: Angst

Tag: @foxypuppy

Plot: You only have 9 days to tell him how you feel....but maybe 9 days just isn't enough

The bus finally pulls up breaking the tension between you and Hitoshi you let out a sigh of relief as the doors to the bus opens.

You both step onto the bus and try to find a seat, Hitoshi nudges your arm gentle "Hey you wanna sit in the back?"

You don't respond to him....I mean how could you with that stupid question you asked him still looming over you like a vengefulspirit. "Maybe I should've stayed quiet" "Did I say to much?" "H-how much did I say?!" .

Your mind begins to think of the worst possible scenarios but then you snap out of it as you feel something warm cover your hand.

It's Hitoshi's holding your hand as he takes you to the open two seater in the back.

Y/n suddenly feels her face heat up as her cheeks blush red this feeling is something that can happen only once in a life time so....you enjoy this short tiny bit of contact like it was your last.

Shinsou hold out his hand giving you access to the seat next to the window "Here you go I know you like sitting next to the window so-" he stares at you and notices your blush and can't help but to do the same.

Seeing you look up at him with genuine happiness makes his chest feel warm and his throat tighten.

"Thanks Hitoshi...". Y/n sits down and scoots over to the window while Shinsou sits down next to you.

Shinsou takes out his headphones once again and puts them on resuming his paused music however before he puts his phone away he receives a text from Izuku Midoriya.

" Hm? What does Midoriya want?"

The Promblem Child🥦

Izuku: Hey Toshiiii~😜

Shinsou: ......kaminari why the fuck do you have Izuku's phone......

Izuku: MY PHONE DIED🥀😪 so I swiped Midoriya's phone while him and Bakugo are arguing in the living cuz bakugo sucks a uno and his sweaty hands are fucking up the cards but they not important rn

Shinsou: ok so what do you want with me

Izuku: Me and and guys are gonna go bowling tomorrow and we wanted to see if you wanted to come 🥺

Shinsou: I don't know I'm kinda busy after school🤷‍♂️sooooo....

Izuku: COME ON YOU GOTTA GO YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN SHUTDOWN BAKUGO'S YELLING

Shinsou: Sounds like I'm baby sitting 😑

Izuku: YOU WON'T BE! YOU CAN BRING Y/N IF YOU WANT SO YOU WON'T BE COMPLETELY ALONE PLEASE ANAJHSHSHAJJS

Shinsou: Ok! Ok I'll go but I'll have to ask y/n about what she thinks

Izuku: I KNEW YOU WOULD COME AROUND TOSHI!

Shinsou: Dumbass go put your phone in your mouth you doofus🥱😴

Izuku: I-

Shinsou turns off his and focuses his attention towards you as your head is resting on his shoulder. Shinsou tries his hardest not to ruin the moment so he obviously he stupidly asks " Y-you wanna...hold hands again? I'm getting cold over here".

You normally brush off Hitoshi's stupid flirting because he sucks at it but hearing that he wants your warmth....he need your warmth...Hitoshi needs you.

You and Hitoshi locks hands together both completely quiet but internally freaking out.

Shinsou's brain starts going into overload as he starts think about every romantic movie and think about how they would fuck up a situation like this "Oh no she's really close shit! SHIT DOES MY BREATH STINK?! I DON'T KNOW! BUT I DON'T WANT HER TO FIND OUT,DAMMIT HOLD YOUR BREATH!" Shinsou does just that but you see him oddly do this.

Then you start thinking,"He's holding his breath? Why...did he sniff me...DO I STINK OH GOD I HOPE I DON'T IM SORRY HITOSHI!!!".

The bus hits a speed bump to causing all the seats to jump and it cause the two dummy's to bump heads.

"OW! DAMMIT! Hey are you ok?" You both say in unison then there is a short pause before the both of you burst out laughing.

"We're both so stupid haha!".

"Nah were not stupid great minds think alike " Hitoshi snickers.

You lean in closer to Shinsou as you poke the bump he got on his forehead from crashing into you " OW! HEY!" "That's what you get".

Sometime passes and the bus finally reaches the home bus stop in front of your house. Hitoshi and you get off watching it leave. "Hey Y/n are you busy tomorrow?"

"Umm no actually I'm free why you wanna hang out?"

Hitoshi beams as he scratches the back of his head just then a creepy smile form's on his face " Oh that great! Denki invited me to go out bowling and I wanted to bring what bakugo would call an extra"

You playful punch Hitoshi in the arm " Hey! Don't call me an extra! Ohhhh I swear I'll go feral on Katskui!"

"Oh I know you will... you always do but before you go in I wanna ask are you really ok...?"

Once again you ignore his question he notices and sighs "Y/n i won't use my quirk to make you talk....i promise ...".

Y/n stops smiling as she turns her back on Shinsou walking to the door.

"H-hey did you hear me y/n come on talk to me what wrong?", " I'm really glad I got to meet you Hitoshi Shinso.....You're such an amazing guy and... I just-."

And with that the tears began to fall down your face you look back at Hitoshi to see he's completely shaken up bye your sudden rush of sadness.

" Everything you've done for me there no way words can describe how happy I've been being friends with you and how much you left a impact on me"

Shinsou stops her " what up with all this crazy talk y/n? why are you acting like one you walk through that door I won't see you again?"

You think it would be better then wasting away until you day in 9 days then maybe your heart wouldn't be hurting so much like it is now, hell this pain feels like it's hurts more than the pain the quirk will bring.

Hitoshi brings you into his arm embracing your body in hug. "I promise you that we will be together always and besides-...."

"We got all the time in the world"

Hearing that one line....it finally sinks in that y/n is gonna die...so she does the only thing she can.

You clench Hitoshi uniform as you bury your head in his shoulder and began to breakdown in Shinsou arms. "Y/n?! Hey hey don't cry it'll be ok"

You scream and beg Hitoshi not to leave " You can't leave please don't! I don't wanna lose you Shisou!". "Woah woah lose me? Y-you're not gonna lose me...let's go to my house and clean you up I don't want you parents to see you like this".

Hitoshi takes you to his house right across the street. He quickly opens the door and sits you on the couch "I'll be right back just stay here ok", you nod and Shinsou leaves.

"I don't wanna bring Hitoshi into this and get him all worked up because of me he does so much for me as it is...you know what I mean right?" Shinsou's just meows back at you.

"Of course you get it Kabuki...Hitoshi is always taking care of both of us" you say while petting Kabuki. "I guess liking Shinsou isn't the only thing we have in common huh...".

A few minutes go by and Hitoshi is sitting on the couch wiping your face "Hitoshi come on I know how to whip my own face!". " If you stop moving MAYBE me can get this done quicker!".

Shinsou sighs and lays back on the couch "There now you're all clean up, you're welcome". You lay ontop of Shinsou patting his chest "Looks like the day is saved thanks to pro hero Mind Freak~". He pushes your face smushing it with is hand.

" Ew I told you I'm not calling myself myself mind freak!"

" IT'S COOL!"

" IT'S SCARY! IM TO TRYING HELP PEOPLE NOT TO SCARE THEM OFF" "We'll I'm here and I'm not scared of out you!".

Hitoshi softly puts his hand on your cheek "what I said out there wasn't a lie, Y/N I'm here if you need me...every step of the way...."

You hold Hitoshi hand as your hearing starts to diminish and your body begins to fell light that you begin to wobble and sway back and forth.

"Yeah.....we got all the time in the world...."

Y/n suddenly fall sideways onto the floor lying there motions while Hitoshi eyes widen as he screams " Y/N!!!!"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡💔 As the the first day has come to an end so has 1 of the many lives. And so far Y/n has lost her first life.....🥀

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #y/n #shinsou hitoshi #boku no hero x reader #hitoshi x you #kaminari denki #bnha kaminari #my hero x reader

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noodlecupcakeswritings · 4 years

Text

Ownership - Chapter 8 (A Kylo RenxOC AU)

Cora Ardmore and Kylo Ren work for rival companies, but they don’t know that until after they spend the night together. Once their identities are revealed to each other it’s a question of who will cave first?

This fic is pure porn, pure kinky porn. Wanna thank @jana-banana-fana for an lil idea on this chapter and also @neeharlow for some of the diologue. <3 <3

Please leave comments, kudos and reblogs if you like it. If you would like to be tagged let me know. You can find my AO3 here

Warnings: Language, Confrontation, Kylo Ren is still an asshole, Vaginal fingering, Dirty talk, Semi public sex, Dom/Sub relationship

Chapter 8

Kylo Ren

After hitting send on the text, I scanned the windows of the building, trying to guess which window belonged to her office. I hoped she would come down. Because there was no way in hell, I was going up there and potentially running into my mother. It was risky enough standing out here. Now I was anxiously scanning the windows, hoping to not see her judging face looking back at me. Glancing back at my phone screen, only a few minutes had passed, but Cora still hadn’t texted back. I could try calling her and convincing her to come down. But there was no guarantee she’d answer her phone. Opening up the messages between us, I noticed the three dots, meaning she was typing.

Kitten: Give me five minutes and stand somewhere less obvious Relief washed over me. She was willing to hear me out. And I’d had two weeks to work on my apology. Finally, Cora exited the building…with another man. Cora spotted me and paused, turning to the clearly unwanted third wheel. She looked desperate to get rid of him. That still didn’t do much to stop me from glaring at both of them. Was this the guy she’d gone on a date with, in the clothes I’d brought her? It was taking all my willpower to not insert myself into their conversation, to make him uncomfortable enough to back off.

The male looked at me suspiciously over Cora’s shoulder before side stripping her and heading over. Cora followed, worry evident on her face. “Poe just drop it please,” Cora hisses at him. Poe held out his hand, “Poe Dameron, and you must be the asshole she was talking about.” Cora cringed as he said that. If we weren’t in such a public place, I may have punched him. Instead, I took his hand firmly and shook it. Firmly enough that it hurt him a little as he retracted his hand quickly. Poe continued studying me, as If trying to work me out.

“Poe, we’ll have to do lunch tomorrow okay,” Cora spoke, desperation in her voice. “He looks awfully familiar,” Poe responded. I towered over both of them, checking my watch, “How longs your lunch break?” “An hour,” Cora answered. “Then we’ll need to get going. Come on.” I opened the passenger side car door for her to get in. She didn’t move, still desperately trying to get rid of Poe. He was not invited for lunch. Finally, Poe took the hint.

“Fine. But don’t let him back in so easily,” he warned Cora. Cora waited till Poe was out of sight down the street before turning back to me. She folded her arms over her chest. She didn’t look pleased to see me even now that Poe was gone. “You have one hour,” she spoke. “Then let’s go,” I responded impatiently. Finally she got into the car. After closing her door, I got in the driver’s seat and started the ignition.

Crossing her legs, Cora kept her gaze on the road ahead. Whilst I wanted to reach over and touch her, I knew that wouldn’t be allowed. I had to be on my best behaviour if I wanted her back. “So what’s on the menu?” I asked. “For lunch, I mean.” Core glanced at me with annoyance, “Seeing as you’re paying, I’ll have steak.” There was a high end steakhouse not far from here that I could take her to. Turning down the next road, I headed in the restaurant's direction. The rest of the car journey was silent, the tension between us thick.

I parked the car in the nearby multi-storey car park and turned to her. Her pencil skirt had ridden up her thighs a little, her bare thighs teasing me. I wanted to mark them up, claim her again as mine. It was tempting to skip lunch and have her now. After all, it had been two weeks without her and sex. She’d look much better with a pair of stockings, a few buttons of her blouse undone. Then again, she’d currently look better on my cock. We got out the car and headed to the restaurant. We were taken to a table near the back. It wasn’t too busy this time of week.

Cora flicked through the menu. Every turn of the page seemed aggressive, as if she wanted me to know she was still pissed off. Finally she put it down on the table and gave me her full attention. “Are you going to apologise or am I wasting my lunch break with you?” Cora asked. “Well, if I apologize now it won’t mean much. Besides, I still think your over reacting.” “Over reacting?!” She snapped before realising we were in public and lowering her voice, “you took those without my knowledge and consent. If they had gotten out, you could have tarnished my reputation,” she hissed.

Now it was my turn to get angry. Selfish bitch had only thought of herself. “Your reputation? You’re not the only one who’s ass is on the line here! Do you have any fucking idea how much shit I would be in if anyone I worked for knew I was fucking you!? You’re a good fuck Cora, but not worth the shit I’d be in to let those photos get out.” I argued. For a few moments Cora almost looked hurt by what I said. I didn’t understand why it’s not like this was a romantic relationship. She knew it was just sex, nothing more. Before we continued the conversation, a server came over to take our order.

Cora ordered one of the more expensive red wines and I ordered water. Then she moved on to starters and main. Cora didn’t order a starter, after all we only had an hour. Reaching under the table subtly, I placed my hand on her knee. Cora glanced at me, shooting me a warning look. But whilst the server was here, I knew she wouldn’t dare say a word that would expose us. My hand moved higher until I was rubbing her through her panties. Cora inhaled sharply, her fists clenching around the menu.

“Everything all right, Kitten?” I asked. Forcing her panties out of the way, I found her clit, circling it gently. A soft sigh left her, redness spreading across her cheek. The server was looking at her, waiting for Cora to relay her order. Swallowing hard to keep her composure, Cora opened her mouth to speak. “I...I’ll have the sirloin please,” she managed. “And how would you like that?” The server asked. Slipping my fingers lower, I pushed two fingers into her tightness. If she didn’t want this, she would have crossed her legs or pulled my hand away, instead her legs spread a little as if coaxing me in.

“Medium, p-please,” Cora answered. The server turned her attention to me, ready to take my order. My fingers delved in deeper, curling them to try to force another sound from her. Cora masked her moan with a cough, covering her mouth. Smirking, I turned my attention back to the server. “I’ll have the rump, medium rare,” I ordered. The server smiled and headed off to put our order in. Even after she was gone Cora didn’t stop me physically. “You can pretend you’re still mad at me, but the truth is you’ve missed my touch as much as I’ve missed touching you,” I smirked.

“It still doesn’t make up for what you did.” Cora replied, her voice wavering. Her words did nothing to deter me from fingering her under the table of a fine dining steakhouse in the middle of the Monday morning lunch rush. My thumb resumed rubbing her clit, and I curled my fingers again, forcing another stifled moan from her. I’d missed the sounds she made, the sounds that only I could force from her. My cock throbbed for attention, straining against my trousers. I needed to feel her hot tight wet cunt around my cock, not my fingers. Although making her cum here around other people was becoming tempting.

Forcing myself to pull away, I removed my fingers and sucked them clean of her juices. Groaning at her taste, I made sure not to miss a drop. Two weeks without her and I’d forgotten how good she tasted. Maybe if there were fewer people, I’d have pretended to drop my fork and eat her out under the table. “You taste so good kitten. I wish I could spread you open on this table and eat your dripping cunt,” I explained. There was a flicker of interest across her features before she looked at me with disgust. “I feel like I’m wasting my lunch break,” she sighed.

Now was probably the time to start on my apology. Apologizing was not something I did often, but I suppose I had fucked up. Taking her hand in mine, I met her gaze. “I never had any intentions of releasing any of those images or the video. They were for my personal use only. I know that doesn’t really put you at ease, but I have no intention of ruining you or your career. Even if we don’t see eye to eye on thing’s I’m not that much of a piece of shit,” I started. Cora listened, still not convinced although her annoyed expression had softened a little.

“I’m sorry that I betrayed your trust, Cora. I’d like this relationship to continue if you’ll let it.” I apologized. She thought it over for a little while before finally nodding. Yet there was no reassuring smile on her face yet. “You will make it up to me and only then will I forgive you. However, I do accept your apology. But if you ever do something like that again, this will be over,” She warned. “I understand. Lunch is on me. And if you come over at the weekend, I’ll continue to make it up to you there.” “Good. You can send more wine and truffles too.”

A soft smirk played at the corner of her lips as she said that. I smiled and nodded. “I can do that,” I agreed. Although now came the awkward question, who the fuck had she gone on a date with in the clothes I’d brought for her? “And will you be needing anymore clothes to wear for your date?” I asked. Her eyes widened in surprise and there was a slight guilty look on her face as she broke eye contact. “There never was a date. I made it up to piss you off and make you jealous,” her voice was small.

Clever brat. She had done just that and because her plan had worked, I couldn’t be mad at her for it. I’d been the one stupid enough to fall for it and think she could find someone else so quickly after me. If I wasn’t so impressed, I would have probably spanked her for it. “Well, your plan worked; you got the reaction you wanted. Devious little minx,” I smirked. Relief washed over Cora as she realised I wasn’t angry anymore. Our drinks and mains arrived, and we ate in a comfortable silence. “Did you watch the video at all? You must have gotten curious, seen how good you look getting fucked?” I asked.

Her cheeks turned crimson at my words, and she took a sip of her wine. The look on her face told me she had watched it. A grin spread across my face at this revelation. “Don’t get too cocky. You still ruined my trust for you. Regardless of whether or not I liked the video. It was still wrong. Maybe if you asked for my consent, I would have entertained the idea,” Cora explained. “Next time I’ll ask. As a matter of fact, I could give you a heads up of what I have planned for you each weekend if you wanted,” I suggested. “That would be appreciated.”

Eventually we finished lunch, and I paid with card. Cora gathered her purse, and we left, heading back to the car. The parking lot was mostly empty, and nobody was parked near my car, which was a good thing. She wasn’t allowed to go back to work until she fucked me.

Taglist: @sweetfictionalworld, @sweetsec-93, @cltex84, @momobaby227, @jana-banana-fana, @dark-night-sky-99, @little-laamb, @ellelaconiwrites, @jynzandtonic, @blackredrose27, @neeharlow, @galacticcannibalism

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