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#my boss’s boss brought me into her office yesterday to ask if I was interested in ‘other opportunities’
sunflowervol69 · 2 years
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in an awkward professional situationnnnnnn😂
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nrdmssgs · 1 year
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Darker matters (part 3)
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Angst Pairing: Nikolai x Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova Summary: The fall of Chimeras commander Warnings: Swearing, inaccurate description of military operations.
Author's note: This is a sequel to A heart full of pity. Thanks: My very important people: @homicidal-slvt, @sofasoap and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot. And a very special thanks to @pale-elysium for the unbelievably beautiful things and words shared.
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In the first hours, all sounds around her are drowned out by an unbearable noise in her ears. Olga doesn’t hear Iskras worried voice, doesn’t respond to the calls of the rest of the team. 
Deafening white noise, measured hissing. 
Zhar doesn’t remember how she declares the operation completed, how she gets to the city, finds the secret flat, that Chimera members use as a hideout, when they are in need of one. 
She locks the door and slowly crawls deep into the dark, dusty hallway, only to hide in a corner and scream of horror and powerlessness taking over her body and mind. A strange feeling of déjà vu comes over her: this is not the first time, it hurts so much, not the first time, she feels paralyzed. But no matter, how hard she tries - Olga can't remember, what triggered those emotions for the first time in her life. 
Zhar tries her best to count hours, spent alone in silence, in a dark cold flat with tightly curtained windows. Her anxiousness grows, her instincts beg her to get up, gather all her strength, all Chimera soldiers and declare a war. But Olga knows better. If Nikolai is still alive, any rash step of hers could end his life. So she clutches her teeth, suppresses the guttural howl escaping from the chest, and waits.
***
It seems like the tense silence in Nikolais office doesn't bother Krueger at all. 
“So, anyone has any hiring companies worth of interest on their minds?” One after another, uncomprehending and indignant gazes rise up at him.
“What, I'm supposed to sit tight and mourn our boss, like a good widow? You need that - you go to Zhar, since that joke of a commander decided to not do any-fucking-else.” Iskra turns back to Krueger, ready to put him in his place, but her eyes dart to the entrance and widen. 
“If I'm not mistaken, you all have active contracts…” Olgas voice is hoarse and cold. She flies into the room and walks past soldiers without even turning around. “Yegor - Prague won’t clear itself up. Syd, Kruger - your plane to ‘point 52’ leaves in an hour, so I don’t know what the hell you forgot here. Iskra, you should have returned home yesterday.”
Everybody sit still, not quite understanding, what's going on, while Zhar roams through papers on Nikolais desk. She pauses and looks up on them for the first time. Her face is gray, tired eyes with a dull reddish haze give away her desperate need of sleep.
“Excuse me, did I give any of you a fucking day off today?” Zhar hisses. “Nikolai may not be in this room, but that doesn't mean, you can sit here and relax! Get up and go get angry, Chimeras!”
One by one, every other member except Iskra leaves the room. Staying with Zhar may not be her safest option for now, but Iskra doesn't care.
“Is he alive? Anyone contacted you?” 
Instead of an answer, Olga pulls the recorder from her pocket and places it on the table.
“Those scums even organized a message delivery right to my door.”
Iskra hesitates for a moment, but then turns the device on and presses play button. The message recorded there makes her feel sick. From the very start, when an unfamiliar male voice addresses to Zhar, asking if her back is still rotting, to him proceeding to explain, what is going to happen to her and Nikolai now. 
“I know, you want your friend back. After all, who else would be so merciful to have you every night, yeah? I feel generous today, Olga: you can have that sack of shit back in one piece on one condition. You seem like someone who loves a good show. All that bloody circus you and your comrade brought to my town, after I made a very clear point to stop fucking around my territory…”
Iskra looks up at Zhar and her heart sinks: Olga silently moves her lips, echoing every word coming from the recorder. Apparently she had listened to the message countless times and already knew it by heart.
The recording goes on. “So show it is then: it will be your best one, and I'll make sure, that Nikolai enjoys every single minute of it. You'll take the Chimera and tear it apart. I want every contract turned down, every member deceased, every line of funding dried out. I'm giving you creative freedom here, you piece of meat. And if the thought comes to your mind to call your old friend Price for help, Nikolai will regret that he was not strangled on his first evening with us. Chop-chop, Lieutenant.”
For the next few minutes, the office falls into a deafening silence. Zhar froze, hovering over some documents, scattered on the table. 
“Olya my yego vytashchim... Nikolai zhiv, znachit my yego vytashchim.*” Iskra tries to reach out for Zhars shoulder, but she escapes that friendly gesture.
“I will get him back.” Zhar takes a pencil and starts frantically underlining something in one document. “Keeping you close to myself would mean to draw a big fat target on your backs. So you do your jobs: contracts as usual.”
“And you? Olga, neither I nor others will let you go after Nik alone. Whoever has him - has a network of informants wide enough to find, where you were these days. And they are trying to get Chimera beheaded!”
Olga finally straightens her back, exhales, trying to calm down trembling fingers. “Don't worry - I'm not giving them head of Chimera on a plate. The only way to get our commander back is to start growing the company right now.”
***
The following weeks passed agonizingly slowly. Iskra rarely interacted with the rest of the company at their base. It didn't make her life easier as well, that Zhar prohibited sharing the fact of Nikolais disappearance with anyone, including even Farah. 
On the outside, Chimera was prospering as never before: contracts, funding and agents incoming almost daily. But Iskra knew the cost too well: Olgas slow agony, her eyes, losing light with every next day, her body failing her in return for not sleeping and eating properly, her thoughts, all centering around one goal. In the rare moments, when Zhar came to fetch something from the base, her appearance and behavior frightened Iskra.
“Give me the names of possible contractors - I'll go find them myself. You need to rest!” Iskra saw for so many times, how Nik used to take a part of Olgas work and force her to go sleep, yet it seemed to work only with him. Zhar didn't even think to let anyone help her, she was too afraid of losing people.
“I'm fine, I just need to collect a few things.” She isn't about to pause, even for an hour, before she takes back, what was hers. 
Every time it was ‘a few more things’, ‘more intel’, ‘more people’. Every night Zhar felt, she was on the edge of breaking down, but something unkind, inhuman made her go on. It wasn't love or hope, it felt like a hungry, raging fire consuming her body and mind. 
***
Nikolai doesn't react to someone entering his cell. He knows too well to waste energy, when each visit could end up with a beating. An echo of approaching footsteps and the lingering creak with which a heavy chair was pushed towards his mattress don't bother him either. He lays there, folding his arms across his chest, staring at the gray ceiling. Nikolai knows his visitor too well to start speaking first. 
“You know, I start regretting getting you - not her. If it was that stupid cunt laying on your place right now - you'd have already brought a fucking army here. But Olga is no fun - she's good only for hiding and feeling sorry for herself.” The man speaking makes a pause, hoping that Nikolai would answer. But he gets only an indifferent look from his captive, so he has to go on.
“It's been almost a year, since I started taking care of her, you know? She nosed in my business, so my friends and I gave her a clue on how can she live long a sleep sound. A clue so big, she needed her entire back and good half of ass to learn the lesson. Now she lost her boyfriend, so I reached out again and explained, how to get him back. I thought, by this time, she'd learn how to listen, when she's spoken to. Two weeks pass, and she didn't even try to move in a right direction.” Nik bites his cheek, so as not to inadvertently smile after hearing that.
“Talk to me, tovarishch. I know, you fucking love a good conversation.” The man sitting on a chair is losing patience. Nikolai looks to his side briefly, not even moving his head.
“What is there more to say, when you already told everything?” Nik sighs, as if he is sincerely pitying his opponent. “Zhar slapped your face so hard with that operation - it still hurts. And you could win yourself a quick and easy death, but you felt fancy and chose her as your gravedigger instead of me. With each next day, you only realize it more, how deeply fucked you are. So you crawl to me to cry on my shoulder.”
Nikolai is sure, they'll start beating him, so he relaxes and lets himself a small grin. But his captor starts laughing.
“You merry son of a bitch. You Russians are all so bloody funny, when you are on the verge of dying. You know, that actually gives me an idea…” The man laughs so loud, it becomes annoying. “How about we send your girl a helping hand? I know this fella, they'll find so much in common pretty fast. She'll find him… pretty amusing.”
Nikolai doesn't like, how light-hearted his opponent voice sounds, when he has thrown that last phrase, leaving a room, where they kept Nik for the last few weeks.
***
Olga knows: sooner or later it must happen. Her time runs out, every new piece of intel on her enemies, makes her understand, the fight is going to be unfair and painful. 
Last year, when Price sent her and Nikolai to that ill-fated mission, she crossed too many paths. At some point, a revenge must find her. She was hoping, it will all resolve quickly: one bullet in her skull. But instead they took Nikolai, leaving her nothing, but terror, circling her mind.
Not taking an incredible difficulty with which she managed to obtain every bit of information and win over a new fighter to her side into account, things weren’t going so bad for her. Up to this day.
This informant was especially valuable: he could give away the location of the enemy base where they were holding Nik. She left the station and immediately called him: the meeting was to take place in a back alley. Olga freezes when a fire truck, then an ambulance, pulls out onto the road she was walking along. She quickens her pace and soon starts running. 
Her exhausted body resists, but she stubbornly continues to run. It is only after seeing a massive plume of smoke pouring out of a car parked at their meeting point that Zhar stops. Someone's invisible eyes saw her right now, someone knew about her plans, someone's hands were ready to squeeze around her throat.
Olya my yego vytashchim... Nikolai zhiv, znachit my yego vytashchim. - Olga (diminutive form), we'll get him... Nikolai is alive, so we will definitely get him back.
Next part
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Coffee and Complaints
A regular is grumpy until Regina fixes the problem. The problem just isn’t her coffee.
Miles x MC
Regina didn’t hate her job. Her boss was a prat, sure. Jasper had been working in the finance world so long that when he bought the building and opened a coffee shop, he figured he knew everything about business. He always treated her like she didn’t have common sense. But she was the manager for a reason.
She knew how to make any drink, for one.
She understood how inventory worked, for two. The one time Jasper tried and they ended up with four times the number of straws they needed and no coffee filters. Eventually she convinced him it wasn’t his calling and he sold it to Jake, who hired on a baker named Bobby that brought laughter with him every day.
She could remember every regular, down to the exact number of creams and sugars they would get on the side, even if they only came once a week.
But she also understood that just because someone had an attitude one day didn’t mean they would every time, and she tried to treat each customer the way she would want someone to treat her during a bad day.
But there was one customer.
One lad that would come in every day, three pm on the dot, and get the same drink. And every day he would glare at her. Every day he was dry and snippy. It was a shame really, lad was cute. Hot, even. She told Talia and Jen as much when they were closing with her one day.
He had been coming in for weeks, and they always managed to miss him. Either because they weren’t on shift, or because they were busy with other duties. Talia was determined to see him today. At two fifty eight, Jake walked in, and he tried to greet his girlfriend as he always did, but she waved him to the side of the counter so he wasn’t blocking the door. Jen giggled at the hurt puppy look the large man wore. “It’s not you, Jakey. She’s trying to see Reggie’s mystery man.”
“He’s not my man!” Regina called from the back office before making her way to the front.
“Then why do you always seem to be manning the register when he comes in?” Talia teased, still not looking away from the door.
“Because you knobs always cut out early so that you don’t hear Tim rapping to himself when he comes in for his shift.” The two exchanged a sheepish look, they didn’t think you realized why they always asked to leave. They thought you actually believed it was because business was slow from two to four. “Besides, I’ve admitted the lad is attractive. If he didn’t hate me for whatever reason, I might’ve been interested.”
As if on cue, the clock struck three on the dot and the front door swung open, revealing the red headed man as he walked in, one hand stuffed into his pocket. He had his head down, muttering something to himself.
“Miles?” Everyone’s head turned to look at Jake as he recognized the man. “It’s been a while, mate.”
“Been a week, Jake. Didn’t expect ta see ya in a place like this.” Everyone else felt that was fair, the cafe had a very homey feel, unlike Jake’s five star restaurant.
“Why does everyone say that? Jen is more posh than I am.” Regina snorted when she saw the girl in question fixing her hair in the reflection of the pastry window. “How’s the carpentry business treating you?”
The man in question groaned, “It’s bloody awful, mate. This new guy started a month ago and is working me last nerve. Every day it’s a new issue, and every day he blames me for it.” Regina had already moved to start making his coffee as he ranted, and none of them seemed to notice, too caught up in the outburst, “Today he forgot his bloody hammer at home! How the bloody hell is that my fault!? It’s not like I drive the lad! Not to mention he starts arguments over everything. I took my coffee back to the site yesterday and he spent over twenty minutes arguing over the type of flavor I get because apparently I’m ruining how good coffee can be by getting actual flavor.”
“This the same lad you told me says that mayo is the only sauce you need?”
“Yes! Like how can he even think-“ He cut himself off as she placed the finished cup on the counter, “What’s this?”
“Your order.” Regina answered simply, cleaning the machine up.
“I haven’t ordered yet.”
“You get the same thing every day, laddie.”
They watched as Miles flushed as red as his hair, “I- I didn’t think you noticed.”
Jen giggled, but Talia kicked her leg gently to shut her up. Regina just smiled, “I remember everybody. Especially if I see them more than once. You’re a regular.”
“Oh. Right.” He looked…almost disappointed?
She thought back to the last few things she’d heard, “Wait, did you say he thinks mayo is the only sauce you need?”
Miles nodded, confused, “Yeah, bloody weird, innit?”
“That absolute prat.” She muttered under her breath, chewing on her thumb and missing everyone’s confused look.
Talia nudged her shoulder, “Babes, something you wanna share with the rest of us?”
“You remember meeting my brother?”
“Ugh,” Jen groaned, “Your brother was fit but so daft.”
“I ever tell you what job he does for a living?”
Talia connected the dots first, covering her mouth to try and hold back her laugh, “Please tell me it’s not-“
Regina turned to look at Miles, “This bloke’s name Bill by any chance? A roofer?” Miles gaped at her, unsure how to respond. Does he lie? Does he admit he’d been badmouthing her brother to her face? In the end, she took his silence as an answer, nodding her head. “Granddad got him the job, helped babysit the foreman growing up or something, I guess. I’ll have a talk with him.”
“No- no, really you don’t have to-“
“Course I do. I take care of my regulars.”
It had been a week since Miles had gone to the cafe. He was too embarrassed, having smack talked the cute barista’s brother right in front of her. He’d been trying to work up the nerve to get her number, always running through stupid chat up lines in his head, but he drew a blank every time he saw her. She was too damn pretty. And now he knew he fucked it up before he even took the shot. He’s heard Bill rave about important family is, there was no way she’d go out with him if he didn’t like her brother.
But he did notice that Bill hadn’t approached him in that week. Went out of his way to avoid chatting to him actually. He was finally able to breath for the first time in over a month and a half.
He finally decided maybe he could go for a coffee today. Even if she wasn’t interested because he didn’t like Bill, he still needed to thank her for making his job easier. And seeing her face was just a bonus.
Opening the door, he could see the surprise on her face. Which he supposed was fair. But then her face seem to be struggling between a beaming smile and an unsure but sympathetic grimace. He just huffed a laugh, grinning as he shook his head. “What ya say to him, lass?”
Suddenly the beaming smile won, and he couldn’t even describe how much he’s missed it in the last week. “Just some friendly sisterly warnings, that’s all.” She winked and he felt his chest flutter. “Give me a sec and I’ll have your coffee ready.”
They fell into an easy rhythm after that day. Bill left him alone, so Miles was never as grumpy when he’d walk into the cafe. He’d even managed to build a friendship with her now, taking his time to chat for the few sparse minutes he had before getting back to the site.
He was bummed when they finished the job. They wouldn’t be down the street anymore.
He stopped in once the next week, after he got off work around five thirty, and found a boy he didn’t know behind the counter. “Uh, hi, is-“ And just like that he realized he never actually asked her name. She knew his- either from Jake calling it out or his first few visits when she wrote it on the cup, he wasn’t sure. But he had never asked. He had been calling lass and she never offered it up. He shook his head, deciding not to ask if she was here. Maybe she didn’t know about his crush on her, but she would’ve at least given her name if she liked him, right? He came back to his head when the barista got his attention.
“Oi, mate, ya alright?”
“Sorry, yeah, can I just get a large caramel coffee to go?”
“Aye.” The boy got to work, his technique no where as flawless as hers, but he seemed to know enough.
“Oi, Oi! Tim!” Another voice came bustling out of the back kitchen, and Miles blinked at the darker skinned boy as he pushed a plate in front of the barista’s face, “Give this a try, would ya?”
“Bobby, I’m making a drink! Set it down, ya knob!”
Bobby laughed, setting the plate on the table behind the counter before he saw Miles, “Oi, you Miles?”
“Uh- yeah, mate. I’m Miles.”
Bobby started patting down the pockets of his trousers, then his apron, before pulling out a little notepad and ripping off the top page, “Reg asked me to give you this if ya came by and she weren’t here.” Just like that the boy left as quickly as he could.
Tim glanced over at it as he set the cup down on the counter, “On the house, mate. But ya be good to her, ya hear me? We gotta a whole mess of fam back here that won’t hesitate to come at ya.”
Miles nodded, blankly staring at the paper.
Regina
44-xxxx-10-xxxx
Give me a call if Bill’s ever a pain again.
Or even just because.
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thenightlymirror · 1 year
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Huge delivery day. For days the superintendent is telling me that all the foundations are being installed. The guy with the granite truck comes, and he‘s like “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” This morning I find out the superintendent is gone for a week, which I can only imagine means he’s been suspended. His #2 walks in and says he has absolutely no idea what’s been installed. This is after days of getting stonewalled every time I asked for a list of what’s been done.
The trainer was gone for three days last week. She came back yesterday and told me how her wedding went. She officiated. I am also officiating my friend’s wedding in September, so I was interested, and offered some advice. Not because I’ve ever done it but because I know a little of what it’s like to be in front of an audience. We went to get Chinese food for lunch and I brought my tarot cards and did a reading her.
Today she gets a call from some corporate manager way the hell up who pulls her out of my location for the next three days. Sadness. So, when the granite truck comes, she’s gone, my boss is in some meeting either hiring or firing new grounds guys. One of the counselors is out front drawing the guy a map to make sure all her shit gets done.
I was so pissed. Embarrassed.
After we closed up the office, I drove out to find the granite installers and asked to watch. He apologized for being a dick, which was basically the case, but I understood and didn’t think he was wrong at all. I’m glad I went out there.
Now I gotta find #2 tomorrow and try to convince him I’m not an asshole.
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lavynrose · 3 years
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- a oneshot for artem wing when he finally mustered up courage to ask out their s/o to hang out as friends (theme parks or just garden strolls, you can pick which type of place you want i won't mind!) to confess to them and when he confesses their s/o confesses at the same time too? and the s/o is kinda shy and awkward with him so he gets surprised and all flustered with them confessing at the same time?
(ackk this has been stuck in my head for a while, sorry if there are any grammar mistakes since english isn't my first language! i hope u have a great day!! :D <3)
- coomkie anon ♡
Artem Wing and his s/o confessing at the same time pt. 1
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Title: Dedicated
Pairing/s: Artem Wing X Reader
Pronouns: Gender Neutral
Genre: Fluff
Warning/s: Grammatical errors probably
Notes: blushy artem is best artem, and we have celestine being the best wingwoman again
enjoy an amusement park date with Artem <3
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Artem Wing is a dedicated man.
If it had been any other person, they would be home right now.
but not him.
Even now, as the looming hours of the night began to tick, he sits at his swivel chair, busied with the love of his life called paperwork.
"Aren't you overworking yourself?" He looked up from his papers to see Celestine waltzing inside his office with documents in hand.
The question should've made him stop and think to at least consider getting rest, but no, we're talking about Artem the workaholic here.
He has heard Celestine's question directed at him for the past few days, and from different people at that.
"Overworking means I have more time to double-check these documents," Artem said as he reached out for the folder that Celestine brought over, "Don't you think it's pretty convenient?"
"Artem," She started with concern in her blue-green eyes, "I know you're trying to distract yourself."
Artem was silent for a few moments before coughing, "Whatever do you mean? There's nothing I have to distract myself from." He said with complete calmness in his voice that he could even fool himself.
"You don't have to hide it, you know? I see the way you look at them," She smiled as she recalled the lingering stares and soft smiles setting display into Artem's face when he's around his colleague "The way you act around Y/N." she added with a hint of teasing.
The mention of your name seemed to short-circuit Artem's brain, Celestine took advantage of this with delight.
"Also... They've been getting friendly and close with that new employee.." She puts her hands on her chin, thinking.
Earlier today, she caught Artem's looks of distraught while his eyes were on you and the new guy. You were having a friendly conversation.
Too friendly.
After that, The youngest senior attorney even requested you to work with him at his desk, claiming that he, quote "needs to keep close tabs on the files that Y/N is handling." end quote.
but Celestine knew better.
Jealous is the only word that can describe how Artem was acting. She decided she will push his buttons tonight.
"Aren't you... threatened?" She beamed at him, waiting for his reaction.
"..."
"They've been on your mind lately, I reckon."
"..."
"They're getting closer with each other, don't you think?"
"..."
Hopeless. Celestine thought.
To say that she's frustrated with this whole situation surrounding the two of you is an understatement. Everyone in your circle clearly sees it - you and Artem like each other.
In the way he bought cake for the whole office that one afternoon the day after an episode of an office drama aired, or in the way that he went out of his way to take care of you in the hospital when you overworked yourself to sickness, or in the way you blushed around each other, the lingering touches, oh the lingering touches. It was all obvious.
The both of you spend your time together more than anyone else, everyone thinks your blooming affections were inevitable at this point. Solving controversial cases meant having the mental and emotional intimacy to get to know each other better compared to your average professional relationship.
You don't see each other as "working partners" anymore, it's clear that you guys want each other as a different kind of partner.
It was known to everyone except for the two of you, apparantly.
Celestine sighed before rummaging through the magazine shelf in the office, grinning when she found what she's looking for.
Artem shot her a look of suspicion. He has a bad feeling about this.
"There." She said with satisfaction before dropping the magazine into his desk.
The magazine lays there, with an eye-catching font and colorful cover page, Artem blushes as his eyes read, 100 cute date ideas...
Judging from the cover, the magazine might actually be useful when giving date suggestions. Under the big font however, there was a smaller text that read, Your significant other is waiting!
What is this...
"I'm sorry but I have work to finish." He tried his best to unsee what he just saw, and decided to turn his focus on the headache of workload in front of him instead.
Celestine raised her eyebrows at him with a frown, "Don't be stubborn now, I'm your boss, I'm giving you both a day-off tomorrow. I mean, you haven't used your day-off at all ever since you started working here. So please. " Her voice is laced with concern.
He looked away with a sentimental look in his eyes, "You don't have to do this for me. I'm fine with... Giving them affection without them realizing it."
Celestine just frowns deeper.
"Come on now Artem, doesn't it sound tempting to you?" She clasped her hands and continued a little too excitedly like a schoolgirl in love, "Having alone time with Y/N, finally asking them out on the date so the other guys threatening your future can back off."
It does sound tempting, Artem admits.
He looked away with reddened cheeks, "I'll think about it."
He doesn't need to look at Celestine to know she's sporting a big grin right now.
Later that night on his bed, his mind keeps flashing images of you. You, wearing a big, warm smile on your face. You, with your little mannerisms that he came to memorize from hours of being with you. Every little thing, every moment, as long as it's with you, he cherishes it.
Oops. The butterflies are starting.
He didn't mind.
You looked stunning today, but then again, he finds you stunning everyday.
When was I this cheesy? He thought to himself.
His thoughts kept racing with reveries about you when a new image interrupted every nice thought.
It was of you and the new employee laughing together.
He frowned and his stomach churns.
"Are they interested in each other?" He finds himself asking the wind. His mind was reeling.
He thinks about the time when he first heard you say that you were married to your work. Surely, you aren't interested in being in a relationship with some guy, right?
Right?
Groaning, he then realized that he needs to make a move now before it's too late.
To him, you're the loveliest person he's ever met, your kindness, your welcoming smile, the passion that you present when you're in the court, the way you always remain headstrong no matter how many people clash with you and try to break your principles.
The only one that occupies his heart, you.
Artem is sure he won't regret giving you his feelings, and eventually, reveal them.
He got up from his bed and sent a glare at the magazine that is now resting on the lamp table beside his bed, mocking him. He picked it up with less hesitation than before.
'What should I choose?' Artem asked himself before flipping the pages, a faint blush adorning his cheeks.
This is a big step for him, and he wants to make sure that he's going to do it right.
7:00am
You rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs as the sunlight permeated through your bedroom window, the yellow glow giving you a peaceful feeling, a new day is about to start.
A new day without work at that.
You had been ecstatic when Celestine called you to inform you last night of your long awaited day-off, you smiled at the memory as you stand up to brush your teeth.
"You deserve it for all your hardwork!" Even through the phone, you heard the smile in her voice.
Soon, your thoughts drifted to a certain raven-haired man.
'How about Artem? I'm his assistant, does he get a day-off too?' You wondered as you finished washing your mouth, finally heading off to the kitchen to prepare for breakfast.
You were about to choose what to eat from the fridge when you hear a song play from your phone in your room.
You hurriedly went back as you recognized that ringtone - that ringtone you had set for a particular contact.
There on the screen, displays the name of the object of your affections.
Mr. Wing.
'Why is he calling this early? What could he possibly need?' you thought to yourself before pressing the green button.
"Good morning Artem, what is it?" you didn't even try to hide the happiness from your voice, Artem calling you this early doesn't happen often, after all.
"Good morning. Do you have plans for today?" His morning voice echoed through your ears. It was husky and rough, filling all of your senses.
Realizing that he just woke up, you can't help but blush at the thought of being the first person to talk to him today.
He thought of you first thing in the morning!
You tried to control the lingering heat in your face as you replied, "Uhm, yes uhh- none. I have no plans for today, Artem. I'll be thinking of what to do though. Why did you ask? " You hoped he didn't mind the sttuttering mess presented to him this early in the morning.
You wondered if there's an emergency case needed to be taken care of, he rarely ever calls outside of work.
Then again, you're always at work.
"That's good," the other line was silent for a bit. As your anticipation for his reply grew, he finally said, "A new amusement park is going be opened today. I heard they'll be having a fireworks display tonight to celebrate the opening."
You've heard about the said amusement park from your coworkers yesterday, you even heard that it was a project from PAX.
Marius' wealth truly knows no bounds, you thought.
Kiki even invited you to come with her this sunday, as it's the only freetime the both of you had before Celestine's sudden news of a day-off.
Is Artem coming there today? He doesn't seem like the type to go to amusement parks, but now you know that he likes them, or at least he didn't mind going, you added this info to your list of things about Artem that make you fall in love with him more and more. Because let's be honest, what's there not to like about the man?
He's handsome, sweet, a good cook, a senior attorney you can look up to, and he always makes sure to reassure you that you're doing well, that he's proud of you.
He cleared his throat, breaking you out of your thoughts, "Do you want to go there..." He paused, his nerves getting the better of him, unbeknownst to you, "With me? I have two tickets, and I wanted to invite a close friend. Is that alright with you? "
What?
'Is he asking me out on a date!?' you were practically screaming internally as you paced frantically in your room.
No. No way. This isn't a date. Not until he says so.
He said 'close friend' so you shouldn't overthink this. You were partners, after all!
At least you try to convince yourself.
"Of course Artem. I'm glad you invited me, I'm really happy." You weren't lying, his invite was the most unexpected thing that happened to you this week.
He hummed, "I'm happy, too. I'll be there at 2:30pm to fetch you, they'll open around 3pm. " He said in a gentle voice before hanging up.
You pumped your fist in the air. You have plenty of time to prepare.
2:30pm
Among all of the outfits that you could've worn today, you decided to wear a cute, beige, knitted sweater. A pair of faded ripped jeans, white sneakers, and a beanie to top it all off.
The amusement park being your destination, you decided to wear casual clothing since you'd be hopping on rides left and right.
You wouldn't want to wear a skirt just for it to blow on the wind while you're in the air, screaming for dear life.
Nope. You definitely don't want that.
You're now waiting outside your apartment after Artem sent you a text 5 minutes ago that he's on his way.
Your head is plagued with expectations on how this friendly date is going to go. You've never felt as giddy as this before.
It's understandable, right? The person you like asked you out to go with him to an amusement park - using his morning voice, nonetheless, so it wouldn't be strange for you to think that this is like an actual date.
You bonked yourself mentally.
You keep reminding yourself that it's just a friendly date. It's just a friendly date. You believe in the power of your mind, it's a friendly date. He even said so himself.
Artem's going to think you're weird. It's not like you're going to hold hands or anything...
Yet, you didn't even try to stop the daydream clouding your mind.
While you were busy indulging yourself in your fantasies, your eyes caught a familiar spot of black in the parking lot. Artem's car!
That's your cue. When his car stopped, you made your way over to him with a small smile on your face.
His black car opened, spilling out Artem clad in his casual clothing.
You scanned his appearance, taking in those breath-taking, familiar eyes. Taking in the beige, knitted sweater he's wearing, paired with slacks and black shoes.
Wait.
You did a double take- beige, knitted sweater?
You looked at his clothes, then looked down at your own, then back at his again.
Red and warmth crept up to your cheeks as realization hits you.
You kind of looked like a couple.
"What's wrong?" Artem inquired with concern as he stepped closer and reached out his hands to your flustered form.
He even placed his hand on your forehead to check your temperature.
Yes, you think you have a fever.
It's only when he got to take a good look at you when realization hits him the way it hit you.
He retreated his hand and looked away, face as warm as yours.
"Uhh..."
"..."
Why are you acting like a highschooler!? You're better than this, getting flustered just because you wore identical clothes.
With the person you like, you added.
The both of you stayed silent for a few seconds before you spoke up with a grin, thankful that the pink that dusted your cheeks is now cooling down a bit, "We should get going now."
You expected the ride to be as awkward as earlier, but to your relief, that wasn't the case at all.
Artem played the radio on your drive to the amusement park, and even asked you about how you're feeling lately and whatnot.
Honestly, with how he's always so concerned about your well-being, you're doomed to fall even harder.
"What are your favorite rides, Artem?" You decided to talk about something connected to where you're going to go.
"Hmm," as he hummed, you looked in front of the car to see the gates of the amusement park came into view. You can even see the familiar structure of a rollercoaster and a really grand ferris wheel turning slowly.
Majestic.
Is the motif for this amusement park golden!? The railings are shimmering with gold, some parts of the rides are adorned with gold, wherever you look, gold!
PAX outdid themselves with this one, definitely took "shining, shimmering, splendid" to a whole new level. Too much for the word grandeur, you think.
You can't even imagine how wide the place must be. You haven't even stepped foot inside, yet your eyes were oogling as some more rides were seen from outside the gates.
"We're here Artem! Look!" From your side, Artem turns to take a look from the road to the park, his eyes screaming nothing but amusement.
"It's beautiful," He breathed while you nodded furiously with agreement. He shot you a look, "I'm glad I get to spend my first time here with you." The softness is his eyes is blinding as you stared at him and processed his words.
"Me too..." you managed to choke out, turning away to hide your blush.
While you were taming your flushed cheeks, Artem had parked the car already.
He opened the doors for the both of you as he offered you his arm. Confusion takes over your features.
"So you wouldn't get lost, it's a big crowd out here, " He tilted his head to have a better look at your still sitting form inside the car, "Let's go?" He said with that gentle smile, as comforting as ever.
You stood up and linked your arm with his and suggested, "How about the bumpy car first?" excitement was evident in your voice.
He shook his head and chuckled, "Whatever you wish." He said as he locked the car doors with a click. You both headed to check in and do the formalities first. After all that, with a skip to your step, you pulled Artem to the bumpy car's ticket booth, and went inside.
You're elated.
"I can't believe the Artem Wing, the youngest senior attorney, is losing to me!" You sound hysterical as you bumped Artem's car with yours over and over, your bumpy car dominating his.
This is fun! Just minutes earlier, the atmosphere between you and Artem seemed a little tight because of the matching clothing incident. Just a little. However, the laughter of everyone playing in this space is infectious, it leaves you in a really good and playful mood.
It makes you feel like you were a kid again. You hope Artem feels the same.
Before playing, you made a bet with him earlier that whoever bumps the other the most, wins.
"Y/N. I think this car is defective." He said with a frown, his eyebrows furrowing as his hands tinker whatever there was in the steering wheel.
You looked over to him and replied, "We can switch cars, let me see." The two of you switched from each other's bumpy ride and you assessed the supposedly 'broken' car.
You realized he didn't push the right buttons to ride the bumper properly.
"Artem..." You looked at him blankly and said, "Have you ever been to bumpy cars before?"
He was silent before replying with darting eyes, "No, I haven't," He cleared his throat, "I have only been to the ferris wheel and escape rooms, I haven't been to bumpy rides before. Sorry."
You beamed at him.
"Don't be sorry!" You flail your arms to disagree, "There's nothing wrong with that. I'm actually happy that you allowed me to drag you here despite you not having played it before." You flashed him a thankful smile.
He looked a little surprised at first, but then that warm smile of his came back, "Thank you." You stared at each other's eyes for a few beats in time, his ocean eyes containing a sparkle you rarely see them hold. It looks so gentle, so welcoming.
So fond.
You stared at each other for a while, his deep eyes were enough to drown out the crowd. To drown out everything that existed but him.
Blinking, you snapped out of it to teach him how to drive the car.
The cars were booster types, different from the old models wherein you just turn the wheels and you'll be good. In this specific model, commands are needed to be performed in order for the car to execute it's special feature.
"You turn it like this..." Artem is a fast-learner, so the both you were back on track as soon as you guided him the directions.
In the end, you were tied, the bumper time limit resulting the draw.
"I'm definitely beating you next time!" you declared with a smug look, hands on your waist.
After the bumper, a receptionist from what seemed like a family raft ride made his way to invite the two of you.
"You guys look like you're having fun!" He then pointed at the paper he's holding and said with persuasion, "You're going to have even more fun here! The family raft ride is the only free ride we're offering in the park for it's first day, be sure not to miss out on this special bonus!" He then turned his heel to find more costumers.
You blinked, "Too bad we don't have extra clothes..." You hung your head low and you sighed as your mind thinks of a different ride to enjoy.
"Well, he did say it's a special bonus," Artem pondered, "They sell clothes here anyway, and there are restrooms we can change on," you wondered if this is going the way you think it's going, "I can see no harm in trying this free ride." He finished with the corners of his lips turned upwards.
Your eyes sparkled with so much joy that he's glad he suggested this.
"Then what are we waiting for!?" You squeal and jump from where you stand and Artem could only shake his head at you with an adoring look in his ocean eyes.
You both headed to the line of people waiting to get their tickets for the raft.
"That's a long line..." You're already mentally tired as you stared at the single file of people in front of you.
"There's still plenty of time before the fireworks at 7pm, I can go and buy us ice cream. Do you want some? "
You're face fell, remembering you were on a diet, "I appreciate the offer, but no thanks, I'm on a diet." An ice cream sounds really tempting right now, but you must resist.
"I heard they sell low-fat ice cream in here. How about that?" He proposed as his eyes glinted with satisfaction.
He knew this would do you in, sure enough, you gave him the biggest grin you could muster.
"You're the best, Artem! Any flavor is fine, by the way. " You beamed as he turned his heel to the ice cream stall, you just stared at his back the whole time he was away.
A minute later, the man wearing a cozy beige sweater that matches yours turned around and went over to you, two chocolate chip ice cream in hand. You reached out to take your ice cream, your fingers brushing.
You ignored the tingling feeling and the chills. He looked away.
While eating, you talked about how the line for the rollercoaster was two times longer than the raft's even though it's literally free.
"I believe they added a new feature to the coaster." Artem reasoned.
"You bet. The rides' golden theme is already impressive enough," You eyed the unbelievably long line from the coaster's ticket booth, "We can go back here some time to see that feature for ourselves." your face heated as you realized the implications in your words.
His eyes widened for a single moment and then looked at you with such intensity you can't bring yourself to look away, "I'd love that." a gentle look worms it's way in his features once again.
Comfortable silence dawns on your own, little world while you both busied yourselves in your ice cream.
The two of you were thrilled as it was your turn to ride the raft, ice cream long gone, replaced by the life-vest in your hands.
"Ah," you sighed, fumbling with the vest a little longer than you should have.
Artem, of course, noticed your movements. He was kind enough to help you adjust the vest.
Of course.
"Come here." He said as his arms finds it's way to your waist, pulling you towards his stature. His hot breath hitting your face while he circled his arms around you to wrap the vest securely.
This is not good for your heart...
He's so close, you could kiss him if you wanted...
He pulled away, his warmth lingering still.
Even when the both of you sat down on the raft. The ride is going to start in a few and here you are, lost in the feeling of Artem being near you.
"Y/N," You abruptly turned your head to him when he suddenly called you, "are you nervous?"
You blushed so hard you wanted to evaporate with the water, 'Yes. You make me nervous.' you're tempted to respond.
"Yes, but don't worry about me." was your reply instead, and you smiled awkwardly and stared at his blue eyes, blue eyes laced with concern.
He leaned closer, probably so that the other people within your raft wouldn't hear, "I care about you and I want you to feel as comfortable as possible," he whispered in your ear, sending chills to your spine.
This is definitely not comfortable, Mr. Wing.
Your heart is doing flips, this isn't normal!
"Please tell me if you need something." The gentleness in his voice took your breath away the way it did as the first time.
The fact that he's unaware of his effect on you angered you so much. You scanned his face for signs of teasing. Smirk, maybe a playful glint, anything.
Yet you found none.
The raft began to move, a perfect timing to change the subject!
You leaned on him, but not too close, and whispered, "It's starting."
Water began to splash, as the raft moved with the current.
The track was smooth at first, you getting small splashes here and there.
Until a bumpy track decided to present itself.
Like before, the raft went with the flow of the water, except that it bounced and rotated harshly that one particular splash of water was enough to wet you and your clothes completely.
"OH MY G-" you exclaimed when the raft hit a rough spot again, soaking everyone wet.
You were making a surprised pikachu face as the water seeped into your clothes.
You turned to look at Artem to see his state and you suppressed a giggle with how he's making the same face as you did earlier.
Never in your life you thought you'd see Artem with the surprised pikachu face.
You took pride in knowing that you're one of the very few people who gets to see this side of him.
"Artem!" you shouted through the noisy stream of water. "We look silly!" you laughed as the water rocked everyone in the raft as harsh as it possibly can. Round and round, back and forth.
"We do!" his laughed mingled with yours even when the water relentlessly kept soaking your already wet bodies.
You smiled once again, gazing at his form with profound fondness longer than just a friend would've done.
6:00pm
"That was really fun!" You shouted to the air while Artem scooted beside you, offering his arm like he did earlier, which you eagerly took.
The both of you went for another round on the raft after the first round, not caring about the long waiting line. The ride was worth it!
All you ever did was scream and laugh at each other's state, but it was the most enjoyment you've ever had in years.
You were completely dry now, changed into fresh clothes that were sold as the park's merchandise.
Even with the change of clothes, the clothes you were wearing right now still matched Artem's.
You weren't complaining.
The crowd continues to enjoy themselves, all while the sunset was making everything in the theme park look like a fairytale.
"Yes, it was. I enjoyed it very much." Artem flashed a smile so genuine, you wanted to see this sight a thousand times more. The orange glow of the sunset gives his raven hair a golden shade, light reflecting on his blue eyes, making him look so bewitching. So you carved it to your memory, not knowing how to elicit that same image from him once again.
Looking up at him, and looking back at the things that happened today, you realized something.
You couldn't take this silent pining anymore, you wanted to tell him how precious his smile is to you, to tell him you're glad he's spending his time with you, to tell him to make more memories with you.
To tell him he's the reason of the warmth flooding your whole being right now.
'I'm in love with you' is what you first thought of saying. No matter how cliche that may be, you wanted to let him know, that you're in love with him.
"Uhh, Artem, I-" You were about to spill your feelings then and there when a voice boomed the speakers of the park.
"Everyone! One hour more to go for the fireworks! Please look forward to it!"
Your confession's gonna have to wait for later.
part 2 here
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do not repost © lavynrose 08/15/21.
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cheesygroove · 3 years
Text
Byulyisido~
Moonbyul faces a new challenge, if just you could be of help...
pairing: moonbyul x f!reader (second person)
c: this is just some pure overly descriptive fluff.
no content warnings
word count: 1.3k~
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Nah, sorry, I just wanna look at spreadsheets for the rest of the day, you said to the sun while aggressively closing the blinds of your home office, blocking the light that was peeking through the window and contributing to your daily dose of eye strain. If only I could close my laptop like that, huh. You dropped back into the chair nonchalantly, a korean R&B chill playlist blasting through your airpods. DEAN's calming voice was almost putting you to sleep when it suddenly stopped, being replaced by the default iPhone ringtone.
You rolled closer to your desk, angrily searching for the phone. You would always leave it the farthest away possible from you, trying to minimize distractions. Supposing it was a call from your boss, you were dreading it in anticipation — you had just finished what was an awful meeting with one of the regular clients. But the name you read on the screen after finding it had half of your bad mood melting away in a second.
"Oh, Byulyie. Just when I needed you," you picked up, grinning from ear to ear.
"Wow, missing me that much already? We talked yesterday, you clingy," she teased with a cocky tone that made you both blush and smile wryly, instantly regretting the words you spit out on a whim.
As Moon Byulyi slid into your life, you gradually learned to love her singular personality, cherishing the fun she brought you through your daily conversations — even if she still made you blush sometimes. After a few dates, a mutual romantic interest began to flourish, and you slowly got to know her other side — the Moonbyul from MAMAMOO. The idea of having something more serious with a famous person freaked you out, but while talks of that weren't around, you enjoyed the drama of her much more glamorous life. Despite feeling you hadn't much to bring to the table in comparison to her, she was still very interested in hearing how your day had gone.
Her initial teasing being long forgotten, Byulyi was the one who went on a torrent of words, seemingly frustrated about her work. You closed your laptop, thinking that today's assignment could be delayed. The reason for her discontentment was her Youtube channel — to the delight of her fans, Moonbyul finally opened an account on the platform — months had gone by without a single video uploaded. The empty page had its own visual identity and even an intro posted to MAMAMOO's official accounts, but nothing ever came out of it.
"It was a bit silly of me to ask the company to announce it, right?" She sighed on the other side of the line, the sound of her fingers typing in a mechanical keyboard almost concealing it. "Now everyone has been expecting it, and creating content isn't really simple. Plus, the added pressure..."
Not knowing what to say, your mind wandered trying to pick words that would make her feel better, only to end up stating the obvious, "Well, hindsight is always 20/20." Moonbyul — the idol — had on her shoulders the weight from aiming to constantly deliver something unique, exciting and new — and those three words, in her opinion, clashed with the homebody lifestyle Byulyi led. There was a real struggle to get any innovative content out of her daily routine.
"But I've decided," she breathed in to start off the sentence, the sudden determination within the act causing you to raise your eyebrows, "I'm changing that. I think the channel can start off with a more lighthearted video, and maybe I will be stealing an idea from Solarsido... For the Byuldongies." Byulyi laughed dryly, her confession instantly putting you in a straighten posture — acting like it would help listen better — and she grunted as if she had read your mind, "Ah! I know what I said, but what can I do? I have to upload something, but I don't have any ideas!"
You chuckled as you heard Byulyi muttering to herself that Yongsun would endlessly tease her about it. That was what you suggested her a thousand times — why don't you do one of the challenges (시도) that Solar has done? — and until now, she had always rejected it promptly, stating that she wanted to do her own thing and avoid being a copycat of her friend. At this moment she was prioritizing the fans' wishes rather than her own, and despite feeling sorry for her, you couldn't help but find the reaction amusing.
"Hey, come on. It will be fun, Byulyie," you said in an attempt to cheer her up, "you have to start somewhere. As it progresses, you will eventually discover a type of content that works for you." After finishing the sentence, you let out a inquiring hum, only going forth with your thoughts following Byulyi reluctant mumble in agreement, "Oh, you see? Pick a video that you enjoyed to try to record. I can help you choose it," you offered.
"I have one in mind already." The keyboard sound was loud again, so you could tell she was typing fast on it. "Oh, it's that one... Have you seen it? She cooked a meal with the ingredients she had at home and ate it with me. It was delicious." You told Byulyi that you knew the video she was talking about. "But mine will have a twist to it, of course. I won't be accused of straightforward plagiarism, no no. I'm writing the script now, by the way." So that's what she has been working on all along.
"You will let me in on a few spoilers, right?" you pouted your lips as you said it, knowing she would notice it in your voice and give in right away.
"I can't keep anything from you, can I?" Byulyi giggled, then murmured okay okay, " 'kay... So, a picnic at a local park and the food will be whatever I have at home!", she announced, making it sound grandiose by clapping after it, and you couldn't help but join in her adorable goofiness. "I don't expect it to taste good like Yong's version did, but we —"we? "— should have some fun."
"We?" you asked.
"Mm-hmm, you're joining in. I managed to get a day off next tuesday, like you usually do." Hearing her answer, you didn't even try to hold your smile back. "It was supposed to be a surprise, just so you know."
That smile on your face didn't last long, though. You stopped your happiness in its tracks, still wanting to help even if it meant putting what you wanted aside.
"It's not like I don't wanna go, oh, huh, but don't you think Solar would be best suited to the task? I mean, she has her way with the camera, experience and you recorded stuff together so many times..." you managed to say, feeling your heart ache with each word. Despite the good intent, part of you — most of you — was anxiously hoping for Byulyi to disagree with your opinion. Thankfully, she didn't wait any longer after you finished to speak her mind.
"You don't need to be like that," she told you with a reassuring tone, "I've even planned everything so that it could fit you. You-" she sighed almost inaudibly, cutting off the sentence like that. You heard her fingers tapping on the keyboard, but it didn't sound like she was actually typing. By the time Byulyi spoke again, your palms had already gotten a little sweaty.
"Well, it's an important occasion to me and I've chosen you to be there. If anything, you should say that you're honored, 'kay?" her voice came back full of confidence — almost as if she hadn't made a noticeable pause — even leaving a greasy remark to make you blush slightly.
Your answer to that was a bashful 'kay in the same tone as hers, and even though you couldn't see Byulyi, your mind instantly pictured she smiling widely after hearing it, with her cute nose scrunch and everything.
ao3 link
author notes section: hi, this is my first time posting here so I was a bit unsure about what to write — I still got carried away and wrote over 1k words so that's that. I will attempt to venture into other genres as I get more comfortable/confident, for now I hope that you can enjoy this piece about some subtle flirting... maybe there will be a part 2.
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random-of-random · 3 years
Text
The Secret
Chapter 2 - Just One Day
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Authors Note: Thanks for reading and favoriting, and for commenting. You guys are great!
Y/N Y/L/N and Percival Graves had met four years earlier, in 1921. She was new to MACUSA and he was already a top Auror. It was a tradition in the department that new employees learn from close observation of people who had been there longer. Y/N had been assigned to shadow Percival and she was given several words of condolence from her new co-workers.
“Don't let him push you out of here.” Arnold had warned her as he gave her a cheeky grin. He was being shadowed by Lovell. From the little she had gathered Percival Graves was a good guy, however he was also shrewd and some described him as single-minded.
When she went to his office and knocked on the door, she could feel her nerves building. His office was smaller then, and this one he shared with Arnold.
"Come in." His voice called and she hesitantly opened the door. Two desks were crammed into the tiny space, filing cabinets seemed to overflow. There were files covering the desks and piled on the floor. It was easy to see that it was a time-consuming job. Behind the desk to her right sat Percival. He didn't even glance up at her, at first, and he continued writing on a piece of parchment, the quill scratching on the paper reminded her of school.
"Mr. Graves?"
"Yes. You must be Miss. Y/L/N." She moved toward him slowly.
"Yes, sir."
"Graduated from Ilvermorny?" His hair was slicked back and black. She couldn't see the color of his eyes.
"Yes sir."
"One of the top students in your year." He still hadn't looked at her.
"Yes sir."
"What house?"
"Horned Serpent, sir."
"Did you always want to work in magical law enforcement, Miss. Y/L/N?"
"Frankly sir, no." That seemed to get his attention. The quill stopped and he turned to slowly look up at her. His eyes were a chestnut brown and seemed to be looking through her.
"What did you want to be?"
"A stage actress." She admitted and it garnered a small smile.
"Is that so?"
"Yes, sir."
"So, why are you here?" It wasn't a rude question, nor intense. Just inquisitive.
"If I was going to be on the stage then I would want to be somewhere big. Considering the Rappapport Law, I wouldn't be able to achieve that properly. So, I turned to the next best thing."
"From being an actress to catching criminals?"
"Yes, sir."
"And they sent you to me." He stood and placed the paper he was working on in an already full filing cabinet. "I suppose you've heard the stories." She could have lied, kissed a little ass, but that wasn't her style.
"Yes, sir, I have."
"And? How am I living up to them so far?" When he turned to look at her again she couldn't help but catch the smile he was trying to hide. Percival was handsome and she had a feeling he could be very charming if the mood struck him.
"A little lacking, sir." He chuckled.
"Welcome to the department, Miss Y/L/N. Now, if you wouldn't mind, we had a big bust if illegal imports yesterday and most of that needs sorted."
"Fine. Not a problem." She said putting on a smile. As soon as she left his office, she knew she was in trouble. Girls talked about plenty of other men in MACUSA, but Percival Graves was something special.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Y/N shadowed him continuously. Yeah, he was tough. Yes, he could be distant and cold. However, he was the best Auror she had ever seen. He was quick with a wand, his spells were powerful, and he had even mastered a few spells without the use of a wand. Every morning she would arrive at the Woolworth building by 7 AM. Every night she wouldn't leave until 8 PM. He stayed the same hours.
People constantly asked her when she was at lunch, "don't you hate this?" Her answer was always the same.
"Of course not! Are you crazy?" And she wasn't lying. She wasn't being insincere. Working as hard as she was had already improved her skills. There was so much Y/N thought she knew that was now being challenged. In her mind, she was working for the best.
The hardest part was Percival himself. She was enjoying being around him entirely too much. The way his eyes followed her suddenly didn't feel uncomfortable. It was welcome. The way he was studying her, she almost dared him to figure out her secrets.
Within three months she had stopped eating with the rest of her co-workers and started eating in Percival's office. Sometimes they would go over files, talk about the goings on in the magical and non-maj governments, and on rare occasions they would talk about personal things.
The personal conversations became more frequent over her year of shadowing him. He talked about the long line of Aurors in his family, and how he felt obligated to follow in their footsteps. However, it turned out that it was a field he was good in and enjoyed. He asked her about her family and seemed to want to know anything she was willing to share. She found out when he attended Ilvermorny he was in the Wampus house. Three had turned for him, the other two being Horned Serpent and Thunderbirds, but he went with the house based with warriors. It suited him.
"When I was in school Wampus beat Horned Serpent every time they played." He joked with her one day.
"That is not true." She said with an accusatory tone, though her eyes were alight. It was almost closing time, but they were still sitting in his office - the same place they had been talking for the last hour.
"It is." He insisted.
"If I waste my time going back through the records to prove you wrong..." he laughed then and the sound was beautiful. The door opened quickly and all signs of the levity were gone in that instant. Arnold walked in carrying yet another file.
"What's that?" Y/N asked.
"Dark wizard from Germany has landed in the US. He's a bad one. Already responsible for seven deaths. We have to catch him." Percival was on his feet in a second.
"Where?" He asked pulling on his coat.
"He was spotted in Central Park." Arnold answered.
"Let me come." Y/N suggested.
"No." Percival answered quickly.
"Why not?" She asked and he seemed to ignore her. "You were the one who said I was doing really well."
"I did say that." He admitted as he walked out of his office. Y/N was in tow.
"Then I should be able to go and prove myself."
Percival let out a tense sigh. “Y/N..."
"Come on, Percival. You know I can do this."
"No!" His shout made her take a step back in shock. The department was suddenly quiet as they all looked on at their head Auror. Granted, most of them were surprised this was the first time they heard him yelling at her. He took a few steps closer to her and lowered his voice so only she could hear. "Not this one. Just, trust me on this?" She merely nodded before she watched him walk toward the elevators. Turning on her heel she headed straight back to his office and shut the door after her. She was so mad it was hard to think of anything else. So, she did what she had been wanting to do for ages. She organized. Everything. Three hours later she was still putting papers into the last cabinet. She modified everything magically so it could fit five times the space is previously had. Any loose papers were sorted and put in their proper files which were then put in alphabetical order in one of the filing cabinets. A work of beauty. She allowed herself a moments rest as she looked over the office. It looked as if there was twice as much room as there had been. When the door opened she stood to smugly see his face, but it was Arnold who walked through the door. His normally styled hair was hanging loose, his tie was completely off, and she saw what looked like blood covering the arm of his white button down.
"Arnold, are you-" She moved toward him, but he put his hand up.
"It's not my blood." Her stomach turned and her breath hitched in her chest.
"I-is Mr. Graves... alright?" She dreaded the answer.
"I think so. He's with the healers now." Arnold took a seat at his desk and leaned back.
"What was he hit with?"
"A spell we had never seen before." Arnold answered her, his voice slightly shaking. "He just started bleeding." Y/N looked at him in shock. "It stopped when we got him subdued, but Percival lost a lot of blood."
"Are you alright though, sir?" She asked.
"I'm going to be fine, Y/N." She nodded and stood awkwardly. "He's in the healers room down on 20. In case you were interested."
"Thank you, sir." She took off, trying her best to look calm and inconspicuous. A few people had started to suspect something was going on between Percival and Y/N. How wrong they were despite how much she wanted them to be right. The rumors seemed to die down quickly. Something about Percival not being the type to settle down, let alone with someone like her. Y/N liked to joke, she was a little more lax about rules, and she didn't mind a little dancing every now and again. People in the building just decided that the two were never possible. Arnold, however, seemed to know how she felt about Percival. He would catch her looking at Graves as he scribbled a sentence on parchment or read quietly. As soon as Y/N would realize he was looking, Arnold would give her a kind smile or a wink. Though, he never told another soul about what he saw.
When the elevator stopped on 20 she stepped out and into a whole different world. She had been to a healing floor before, but not like this. It was bustling with healers running all over the place.
"Can I help you?" A young woman behind a desk asked.
"Yes. My boss was brought in: Percival Graves. I wanted to check and make sure he's alright."
"Your name?"
"Y/N Y/L/N."
"Alright, thank you. Have a seat in our waiting area and someone will be right with you." The woman indicated a small alcove filled with chairs. She hesitantly sat, but within a minute felt that she may stand up and demand an update. It was an excruciating hour before someone came out.
"Miss. Y/L/N?"
"That's me." The man who was now standing in front of her was older, maybe late 50's, with a kind smile.
"I am Mr. Graves healer."
"Is he okay?" She asked.
"Yes. He is going to be alright." She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and she allowed herself a small smile. "He lost a lot of blood, so we're producing potions for him to take every four hours for the next three days." The doctor explained. "He'll be groggy, but I believe he will do just fine. He will however need care because I want him to get bedrest. I can keep him here, if he would prefer."
"Thank you, and I'll run the options by him." Y/N said as she shook his hand.
"Would you like to see him?"
"Can I?" She asked. He put his hand softly on her upper back and led her back and deeper into the hallway. They walked for less then a minute when they stopped outside a room.
"Go a head in." He encouraged.
The room was very plain and ordinary. Sitting up on the bed was Percival. Already looking like he wanted to go another round. However, his skin was pale and it was easy to see he would be unsteady on his feet. His own clothes must have been discarded as he was wearing a hospital gown. She could faintly make out former cut marks on his arms that were an angry red. His brown eyes connected with hers and for a moment, she saw it. Relief. She couldn't stop herself. Taking several quick steps forward she pulled Percival Graves into a hug. Her arms wrapped around his upper back and shoulders and, to her great surprise, she felt his arms wrap around her waist.
"I'm glad you're back." She whispered before pulling away.
"You didn't have to come down here."
"I know." She answered. "So the docs said you have a potion you have to take every four hours for three days."
"Alright."
"And you have to rest - no working for those three days." He looked almost angry. "That way when you do come back you'll be at 100%."
"If I have to."
"And you're suppose to stay on bedrest. So, I'm going to come take care of you."
"What? No."
"It's your choice, Percival." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Let me take care of you for a few days..."
"Or..."
"Or you to stay here and be a special patient of the healers." It was as if he was at war with himself for a moment.
"When can we leave?"
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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years
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This is two parts because I got carried away. I wrote this on my phone and proof read as much as I could.
Warnings: cheating, male masturbation, m/f sex, minor spoilers for “Defending Jacob”.
——————————————————————————————
Plain Gold Ring
“Plain gold ring on his finger he wore
It was where everyone could see
He belonged to someone, but not me
On his hand was a plain gold ring”
-Nina Simone
When the Barbers moved to your building every old bitty in the place was buzzing with excitement. You had loosely followed Jacob Barber’s case as it played out on the evening news. The whole thing was bizarrely too neat and tidy for your liking. You tried to stay out of idle gossip as much as possible. But, when you heard Andy Barber was interviewing for a senior position at your firm, you had questions.
Andy was brought in to interview for a position that you were also interested in. You requested a meeting with your boss and you went in guns blazing. Your poor boss was not ready for all the excitement.
“Am I still being considered for junior partner?”
“Y/n, calm down.” When he saw you winding yourself up, he popped an antacid an a few ibuprofen.
“Calm down? Calm down he says. I’ve been with this firm since I clerked for you in Law school, Stan. I’m the best fit for this role and you know it.”
“I know you are, kid. I’ve been out voted.”
It’s common knowledge that the partners don’t want too many women gunning for their jobs. They already have one token female partner. They didn’t feel the need to add another. You were infuriated. You stomped back to your office and slammed the door.
All of the work you put in. All of the late nights. You don’t have time to even date. And all for what? You had to calm down now because you were starting to cry out of sheer frustration. You took a deep breath and started going through your to do list. With a relatively light schedule you decided to leave for the day. You mumbled something to your assistant about a doctors appointment and headed for the elevator.
You saw some of the senior partners headed your way shaking hands with Andy. You pressed the elevator button furiously trying to avoid them. Could you make it down seventeen flights of stairs in your stilettos? The elevator dinged and you jumped on just as Robert called your name.
As soon as you put your car in gear, your assistant called. You sent her to voicemail. She called again. Declined. Finally she texted call me back ASAP. Emergency. Fuck.
“Caitlan I said I had an appointment. What’s the emergency?”
“Sorry. Mr. Cramer insisted I call. He’s standing by my desk” she whispered. “They want you to have lunch with them today. Maybe it’s about the job.”
“Did you see guy shaking hands with them? That’s the new junior partner. They are asking me to lunch to reject me. Fuck! Where?” You rested your head against the steering wheel.
“Commander’s at 1:00.”
“Fine.” you groaned.
You went home to freshen up and send out your updated resume. You made sure to include “Willing to relocate” at the end to broaden your prospects. You had a friend in Chicago who worked for a very high profile firm. They were always looking for new blood. You shot her a text to let her know you were looking then emailed your resume. The prospect of starting over completely made you nauseous. You would have to go through the ranks and probably waist another five years to get exactly where you were right now.
When you arrived at the restaurant the maître d brought you to the table where Stan, several other senior partners and Andy were waiting. Andy stood up to pull out your chair.
“Gentleman. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Sit down, Y/N. We wanted to introduce you to Andrew Barber.”
“Andy. Please call me Andy. It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. These guys haven’t stopped talking about you all morning.”
“All good things I hope.” The men laughed and ordered a round of martinis. Good thing you ate a big lunch at home. No one likes a sloppy drunk girl.
“Yes. Well, Y/N, as you may not know Andy has accepted the junior partner position. We would love if you brought him up to speed on anything you’re working on and show him the ropes.”
You were seething. “Of course Mr. Cramer. Happy to.”
“Oh. Good. Let’s order huh? I’m starving.”
You were silent for the rest of lunch ordering two more martinis very dry and a salad. Dressing on the side of course. The men spoke loudly and never even tried to include you in the conversation. You excused yourself to use the restroom. Andy, ever the gentleman, stood up at the same time.
You didn’t go back. Not that it would have mattered. You ordered an Uber and checked your email. You didn’t notice Andy at the valet stand.
“I’m headed back to the office. Need a ride?” he called to you.
“No. I’m good. Thanks though.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” He watched you pace back and forth reading a message almost out loud.
You didn’t look up from your phone. “Shit.” You scowled looking at the screen. You dialed Caitlan’s extension. “Caitlan, Sloan Treadaway’s deposition was moved to today. I need it pushed to Monday.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I figured you would be coming back so I told them it was ok to push it up. I can call them back.”
“No. Don’t bother. I’m on my way back.”
“Looks like you can use a ride after all.” Andy was grinning from ear to ear.
He held the door and rushed around to the other side. You pulled a small bag out of your purse. You freshened your hair, popped some breath mints, lotioned and spritzed away the smell of booze. Andy thought this must be commonplace for you. It’s not easy trying to run with the guys. He could walk into this deposition piss drunk and most people wouldn’t care. You had to be perfect. He always hated that aspect of working in a big firm like this.
“Sorry. I’ll pay to have your car cleaned.” It smelled like you now. Expensive perfume and minty breath. Sweet but not sickly so. He inhaled letting his nostrils flair breathing you in. “Don’t want your wife to be pissed.”
“Lori? Don’t worry about her. She’ll understand.”
“How is she doing with her job search?”
“Doing ok. Thanks for asking. She’s interviewed with a few places.”
“She worked for a non profit right?” When he looked at you quizzically, you quickly explained yourself. “I hear things. Anyway. I know the director of a non profit organization that might be a great fit for her. I’ll pass along her information.”
“Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Stan told me you were the front runner for this position. I know how hard it is for women in this industry. I want to say how sorry I am…”
“Let me stop you there. First of all, don’t be sorry. You’re high profile and a damn good litigator. They would be stupid not to offer you the moon. You’re over qualified for this job. You didn’t come here gunning for me. I’ll be fine. Besides, a few of these old bags have one foot in the grave. It won’t be long for me.”
Andy smiled at you but still kind of felt like shit at the way the firm treated you. When you pulled into the garage you offered a quick thanks and rushed into the building to prepare.
Andy stayed behind for a bit. He spent a few precious moments breathing in your scent, letting it linger and wash over him. He hoped his clothes would smell a little like you. Stan said you were a “fire cracker”. Andy always hated that analogy. He knew by the way the group of men talked about you that he would like you. Your quick banter in the car confirmed it. Throughout the rest of the day you would invade his thoughts. He and Lori were still married but their relationship was long over. You had excited him more in a couple of hours than she had in years. When he got home he didn’t eat dinner or speak to anyone. He went right to his room where he replayed your exchange over and over. The ghost of your perfume lingered on his shirt. Both of your scents mixed together gave him a raging hard on. He kept your shirt over his face while he fisted his cock.
——————————————————————
The next morning you decided to face the day with a fresher attitude. Sometime yesterday you heard from your friend. She was thrilled that you reached out to her. She has been trying to get you out there for a while. Knowing that you had a solid backup plan was giving your hair volume and clearing your skin.
You thought you were early but Andy was already in your office waiting for you.
“Morning, Mr. Barber.” God he loved how you said that.
He scoffed, “Andy. Please. I brought you a coffee. I hope it’s ok. I got your order from Caitlan. I thought we’d order in lunch today. We have a lot of ground to cover. You should probably let your family know you’ll be missing dinner.”
“I don’t think my dead ficus will worry too much.” Your tone was dry.
“I apologize for the assumption.”
“Not necessary. Though my mother and my therapist would both be pleased to know that I look like someone who could have a family.”
You were funny. You seemed to say whatever thought popped into your head. You had one hell of a poker face though. He didn’t know if you were trying to be funny or if this was just you. When you didn’t look up from your computer screen he didn’t laugh.
As the day wore on you warmed up to him a little. You filled him in on the three big cases you were working on. You were actually going to trial on a very important case soon. He insisted you rehearse your opening statement a hundred times.
During the third run through Andy’s phone was blowing up. He finally turned it off and told you to keep going. He watched you pace around the room and coached you on your stance. “Stand with authority not arrogance.” He chided. He showed you himself then, asked if he could touch your shoulders. “Round them out like this. Good. Back straight. See?” he pointed to your reflection in the window, “It’s not menacing or arrogant. But you look like you’re in charge. You look perfect.” Hell. Was he flirting with you? By the time you looked at the clock it was 9:30.
“Fuck is that the time?” he said with a boisterous yawn.
“Shit. We should pick this up tomorrow.”
“Let’s go get a drink. I’m buying.”
You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m sure your wife and kiddo are dying to see you.”
He stacked some folders neatly on your desk and looked up at you through his lashes, “I’ll be sure to tell my therapist that I look like a guy who has a happy marriage and a good relationship with his kid.”
Your cheeks heated. The way he was looking at you made you sad but it also warmed your insides. “I’m sorry.” you mumbled.
“Don’t worry about it. We said we would stay together until Jacob went away to school. He pretends to ignore the fact that we have separate bedrooms. We put on happy faces everyday. We’re a typical American family.”
You laughed at his admission. His whole story was so fucked up. You wanted to know everything about him. “You know, I think I will let you buy me a drink.”
“Good girl.” he said in a low voice that went strait to your core. The whole way to the car you repeated a mantra in your head reminding you not to get involved with a married man. It didn’t matter how unhappy they were. But you wanted him. Every time he touched you, your insides would quake.
The bar was packed with regulars from the DA’s office and other firms. You introduced Andy around. The guy was a legitimate pro. He was so smooth working the room. The whole time he kept finding small ways to touch you. The brush of his fingers on your arm his breath against your ear when he asked if wanted another drink. Your heart nearly stopped. You stuck with him for a while until your feet couldn’t stand anymore. Every time he caught your eye from across the room he winked at you.
For the first time in a long time Andy was enjoying himself. Your friends were fun and not at all stuffy like he thought this crowd would be. You were adorable. Your laugh was cute. The way you brushed against him on purpose was cute. You were openly flirting with him the more you drank. He had a massive crush on you. What grown man has a crush these days. He thought maybe if he fucked you and got it out of his system he’d get over it.
Your friend Liz sat down at your table trying to talk to you for a solid minute before you noticed. “Sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?” She threw her head back laughing at you.
“I said you two would make a gorgeous couple.”
“Stop. He’s married.”
“Happily?”
“That doesn’t matter. Married is married.”
“So that’s a no. He’s been eye fucking you all night. Shoot your shot, darling. We get so few in this life.” The light hit his wedding ring just right making you feel horrible for even entertaining the thought. Do not get involved. You kept chanting it in your head over and over until Andy slid in the booth next to you. He leaned over so he could talk over the din of the crowd.
“Hey, you. Wanna get out of here?”
“You don’t need to bring me home, Andy. I can catch an Uber.” That was such a ridiculous statement since you lived in the same building.
“That’s not what I asked. I said do you wanna get out of here?” His eyes were fixed on your mouth. A salacious grin splayed across his lips just knowing you’d give in.
“Andy. I….” You stuttered over your words. Your brain stopped working when you felt his warm breath on the shell of your ear. “Let’s get out of here.” Your breath hitched in your chest when he touched the small of your back. He payed his tab and lead you out of the bar.
You held hands in the car. His thumb rhythmically traced patterns on your knuckles. Every touch sent bolts of arousal to your aching cunt. It felt electric. You were ready to crawl into his lap by the time you made it into the garage. He parked in his spot and followed behind you to the elevator. You lived two floors below him. You glanced back at Lori’s sensible suv next to his car and felt embarrassed. He caught you looking and stopped you in your tracks. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look at him.
“I understand if you don’t want to invite me in. I’m asking a lot of you. But I really like you, Y/N. You are funny and intimidatingly smart. And, fuck me, you are fucking stunning. I can go to work tomorrow like nothing happened. Don’t worry about Lori. Worry about what this means working together. Can you handle this?”
Your brain was no longer working and deferred to your pussy for any and all further decisions. You had not had even mediocre sex in six months. You just knew Andy was going to blow your mind. All day you have been working together so well. You challenged each other and he encouraged you when you faltered. Would this change the dynamic at work? Absolutely. Could you handle it? You’re damn right you could.
“I can handle it.”
“Good girl.” You all but sprinted to the elevator. He wouldn’t touch you until you actually got inside of your apartment and closed the door. When you did, he pushed against you and covered your lips with his.
You tasted the golden flavor of beer on his tongue as it probed your mouth. He unbuttoned your blouse and pushed it over your shoulders letting it hit the floor. He kissed his way down the column of your neck to the swell of your breasts. You panted underneath him raking your nails through his hair.
“God you smell incredible. At any point if you don’t want this….”
“Andy, shut up and fuck me.” He growled low in his throat before he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. You could see how hard he was through his impeccably tailored slacks. You unzipped his fly and took the whole throbbing appendage in your mouth.
“Fuck, baby yes.” he hissed. You relaxed your throat muscles and swallowed him deeper. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He moaned your name over and over soaking your panties. “Stop, honey. Let me see that pretty pussy.”
He eased you down onto the bed and undressed you painfully slow. It had been so long since he was intimate with someone, he wanted to take his time. He started with your feet removing your heels and massaging your insteps. His hands ran up the length of your legs to your skirt. He took off your panties first letting the skirt material pool around your waist. “So wet for me. So beautiful.” He slipped two fingers in between your folds hitting everywhere but your clit. He built up a tortuous rhythm that had you begging for relief. He smiled down at you watching completely fall apart. When he dipped his fingers inside of you, you were done. Your orgasm spilled out in one glorious cry. Before you could catch your breath he pulled off your skirt and unhooked your bra. His cock was weeping at the sight of you. A large hand held the back of your neck holding your head in place so you could look at him. Your eyes locked as he buried himself inside of you. There were no more words as he moved inside of you. Only breathless moans and sighs would escape your lips. He increased his pace and your orgasm started building again.
“Fuck. Andy, I’m….fuck!”
“I’m with you, honey. Come with me.” His words were your undoing. You latched your whole body onto him. He held you tight whispering praises in your ear. He kissed you slow and deep easing you back down to Earth. “You ok?”
“I think so.” You both laughed at the sight of yourselves. Sweat glistening off of your skin, lips puffy and kiss swollen. He eased off of you and rubbed your thighs to relax you. You thought he would get dressed and rush out but he crawled under the covers instead.
“Can I stay for a while?” Big arms pulled you down to his chest. He stroked your back softly to help you drift off to sleep.
“I’d like it if you did.” He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and let his eyes flutter closed.
When dawn found you a few hours later, you were still tangled with each other. You jolted awake panicking because Andy was still in your bed. “Andy, wake up. You stayed all night.”
“I know. What time is it?”
“6:45.”
“Then we have time. Go back to sleep.”
“But Lori…”
“I told you not to worry about her. Get back on this pillow and let me hold you. Please.” The poor guy was so touch starved you guessed. Andy Barber was not a man who did well being single. He loved being in love. He longed for a connection. For passion. He knew those things would sometimes fizzle out of a marriage. But, with you, he couldn’t see that. Your fire matched his fire and Lori was the wet blanket that always snuffed him out.
He supposed that wasn’t really fair. Two people were in their marriage. He worked long hours and spent very little time doing anything but being an ADA and being a dad. He didn’t give the same dedication to being Lori’s partner. The stress of this past year pushed them further apart. He felt obligated to be with her. It was his idea to stay together for Jacob’s sake. He regretted pushing for it.
He pulled you close to his body and wrapped an arm around your waist. He nuzzled your hair and fell back to sleep. You did too.
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suituuup · 4 years
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pieces - chapter one
Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.
rating: M (drug abuse, mention of sexual abuse in later chapters) word count: 2,100
ao3 link
*
“Any messages, Gina?”
Beca Mitchell strode out of the elevator, high heels clicking on marble flooring on her way to her office.
Her assistant rushed to walk alongside her, notebook opened as she handed Beca her second coffee of the day, which Beca took with an appreciative smile.
“Mr. Mendes needs to push back his meeting to Thursday, and Mr. Hozier-Byrne is waiting for a call back, preferably before 2 as he’s five hours ahead.”
Beca rounded the corner to her office and dragged her leather desk chair back, shrugging off her woolen trench coat and draping it over the back. “Got it, remind me what I have planned today?”
“You’re having lunch with Mr. Zimmer at the Plaza to discuss Jesse’s project, and apart from the weekly team meeting at five, you’re expected at Edgy Reggie’s party from 10 pm at the Sapphire.”
A groan surfaced from Beca’s throat and her eyes slammed shut as she plopped down on her chair. “I forgot about that. Luke can’t go?”
Gina winced and shook her head. “Family dinner.”
“Family dinner, my ass. His whole family lives back in fucking England,” Beca muttered before she could help it, throwing her assistant an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Thanks, Gina. Hold my calls until ten, please?”
“Of course, Ms. Mitchell.”
As she did every morning while sipping her coffee, Beca listened to demos over the next hour, forwarding them to Luke if any of those yet-unknown artists spiked her interest enough to sign them into their label.
The rest of the day consisted of two meetings, a dozen calls, countless email exchanges, and not enough studio time. A thick blanket of darkness had veiled the city by the time she closed her laptop and called it a day. She stretched her neck and took a moment to gaze at the lit skyscrapers through her floor to ceiling windows, sighing softly.
It was sometimes weird to think about how this was her life. How the asocial, grumpy freshman from thirteen years ago had made it to the top of the music business and now co-owned one of the biggest labels throughout the country.
Scratch that, throughout the  world.  
Snapping out of her daze, Beca stood and slipped on her coat, plucking her phone off the desk to call herself a Lyft home. She had just about time to take a shower and eat dinner before heading to that stupid party.
*
Beca could think of a million things she’d rather be doing right now as she strode down the wet sidewalk towards the lit  GIRLS  red neon sign in the distance a couple of hours later.
She told herself one drink, an hour tops, then she could head home, put on her pajamas, and finish that true-crime TV show she started yesterday.
“Name?” A dude bulkier than the freaking Rock asked her as she made it to the club door.
“Um, Beca Mitchell. I’m Edgy Reggie’s producer.”
Her artist had privatized a strip-club for his celebration party over his album hitting Platinum, and Beca couldn’t  not  show up, as... well, he was an important client and brought her label the big bucks.
The guy checked his clipboard and nodded, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re good to go.”
Casting the bouncer a nod, Beca ducked inside the dimmed, crowded club, wincing at the crappy music heavily pumping through the speakers. Three girls in bikinis and heels stood on platforms, twisting their bodies around dancing poles as dozens of dudes reclined back in leather sofas, shamelessly ogling their forms.
Beca’s nose crinkled as she scanned the room for her artist.
“Yo, Beca!”
Her gaze snapped to the left corner, catching sight of Edgy Reggie (he didn’t want to change his stage name, no matter how much Beca insisted) waving her over.
“Hey,” she cast him a tight-lipped smile, tucking her straight hair behind her ears. She nodded at the other dudes sitting around the low table. “What’s up.”
“Guys, this is the girl behind the magic of my album,” Edgy Reggie explained, throwing an arm over her shoulders before Beca could squirm away. “She is  fire. ”
Beca chuckled awkwardly, then pointed over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink.”
Maybe two come to think of it, so she could get herself through this.
She headed to the bar and ordered an old-fashioned, fishing in the inside of her coat pocket for her credit card.
“Thanks,” she muttered when the barmaid (also clad in a bikini that left very little to the imagination) came back with her drink, handing her her card just as the club’s speaker made an announcement.
“Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome to the stage…  Ariel! ”
The crowd cheered and hooted, Beca glancing over her shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.
There was no amount of alcohol that could have prepared her for the scene unfolding before her.
There, on the main stage, strutted in a redhead, only wearing a silver g-string and high heels. Beca would have recognized that shade of hair anywhere, and while the lighting in the club was low, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this girl -- Ariel -- was her former best friend.
Her former best friend who had dropped from the face of the Earth almost five years ago, without so much as an explanation. She hadn’t just stopped talking to Beca, but to all of them, even Aubrey. She was nowhere to be found on social media and when Beca had tried calling her after six months without news, she found out Chloe’s phone number had been disconnected. It wasn’t like they talked on a daily basis before that. After three years spent living on opposite sides of the country, the texts started coming further in between, their communication coming down to a few check-ins a year and on birthdays, until they eventually stopped.
Fearing the worst, Aubrey had called Chloe’s parents, who assured her she was fine, working as a vet in NYC and in a committed relationship. While relieved, the news stung Beca, as it was clear Chloe had deliberately ceased contact.
It took some time, but Beca eventually stopped thinking about her so much, especially when she started getting successful as a music producer and pouring her time and energy into her projects. She soon won her first Grammys, Gold, and Platinum records featured in notorious magazines and talk shows. She could stop working tomorrow and money wouldn’t become an issue, but Beca didn’t like to boast about her fortune, or fame, for that matter.
Despite being insanely busy, she still kept in touch with the other Bellas in their group chat, but she hadn’t seen any of them in a couple of years, missing the last reunion because of her job.
Beca’s mind steered back to the present, where the once most important person in her life was currently dancing for money. Men were staring hungrily at her as she sensually moved around the pole or bent over with her ass in the air to collect dollar bills from the floor, and Beca suddenly felt sick.
This couldn’t be her dream job, right? Something  had  to have happened for her to settle for this.
Beca grabbed her drink and knocked it back, flagging the barmaid down for another as her mind reeled as to what to do.
She needed to talk to Chloe. In private. Tonight, as soon as she finished… parading in front of these disgusting fuckboys. Only… she wasn’t sure Chloe wanted to talk to her.
“Hey,” she said when the barmaid came back as an idea struck. “How do I get a private lap dance with one of the girls?”
The girl raised a surprised eyebrow. “Backroom, hun. Who do you want?”
“Ariel.”
The platinum blonde let out a curt laugh. “Ariel doesn’t do lap dances, babe.”
Beca’s eyebrows knitted together in a heavy frown. “Why not?”
“Because she’s the boss’ favorite.”
Beca didn’t know what that meant exactly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out as another wave of nausea swept over her insides. “Is your boss here tonight?”
The barmaid scanned the room quickly, nodding. “He’s the guy over there in the suit.”
“Thanks.” She took her drink and headed over to where the fifty-something dude was talking to another guy. Stepping up to them, she ignored their glares over her interrupting their conversation. “Hey. Are you the manager?”
The dude who looked like he ran a mafia mob turned a bit more towards her. “What’s this about?”
“How much for a private dance with Ariel?”
His gaze flickered over Beca’s shoulder towards the stage, then sized Beca up, unimpressed. “She’s not available, kid.”
Beca gritted her teeth at the condescending tone of his voice. “Not even for ten grand for twenty minutes?”
He slow-blinked, then burst out laughing. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m being serious. Ten grand, twenty minutes. Alone in a room, just the two of us.”
The man’s expression hardened. “And I said she’s not  available .”
“Twenty grand.” Hell, she’d throw half a million on the table if that’s what was needed to talk to Chloe. After a beat, she added, “And no touching. That’s not what I’m here for.”
The manager seemed to consider her offer for a handful of seconds. “You got the money?”
Dammit.  She couldn’t withdraw that much right now, she needed to call her bank. “Tomorrow night.”
He smirked, snickering. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He turned back to his buddy, leaving Beca grumbling under her breath as she turned around and stalked out of the club. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stand the sight of Chloe objectifying her body for money.
As soon as she got home, Beca fired up her computer and typed in Chloe’s name in her browser. Apart from old stuff on the Bellas, she found nothing relevant. Chloe appeared to still be MIA from any social media.
Beca grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts, bringing the device to her ear.
“What’s wrong?”  
“How do you know something’s wrong?”
“We call each other twice a year on our respective birthdays and stick to the Bellas chat for the rest.”  
Beca nibbled on her bottom lip. “I found Chloe.”
A long stretch of silence on the other end of the line followed.  “What?”  
“I saw her tonight, Aubrey.”
“Where??”
“At a strip club. She’s… a stripper.”
“What? Did you talk to her?”  
“No. She was performing on stage. But I will. I’m… buying a lap dance from her tomorrow. I figured… she’ll have to listen to me since she’s being paid for it.” Her eyes slammed shut, scrunching up her nose. “I don’t know. It might be a bad idea, but-- I just wanna make sure she’s okay, you know?”
“Yes, of course. Keep me posted?”  
“I will. Talk to you soon.”
Beca shuffled to bed after that, but sleep never came. Her mind kept reeling about Chloe, about what she might say to her once they were face to face, and the possibility that Chloe might shoot her down and refuse to talk to her.
She spent her Saturday trying and failing to make some progress on an ongoing project, willing time to tick faster so she could head back to the club. Mid-afternoon, she headed to the bank to withdraw twenty grand, tucking the envelope in her purse.
“Why does it feel like you’re doing something illegal, Beca?” She muttered to herself on her way out of the bank, slightly paranoid about carrying so much cash on her.
The club was just as crowded when she got there around 10 pm. A different girl danced on the main stage and the manager was nowhere in sight, so Beca perched herself on a stool at the bar, ordering herself another old-fashioned.
“Is your boss around?” She asked the barmaid, a different girl from last night.
“Who’s asking?”
“Tell him the person who wants Ariel is here.”
The girl’s eyebrows shot up at that but she didn’t say anything, nodding before strutting away. Beca sipped at her drink for the next twenty minutes, keeping her back to the stage.
The manager eventually appeared in her peripheral, and he leaned an elbow over the counter, lacing his fingers. “So what’s so special about Ariel?”
Beca slowly set her drink down and fished for the envelope, pushing it towards him while keeping her gaze straight ahead. “I like redheads.”
He plucked the envelope off the counter and peered inside. Twenty stacks of ten hundred dollar bills in exchange for twenty minutes with Chloe.
He nodded. “Follow me.”
Beca finished the rest of her drink, the alcohol managing to muffle her nerves some as she followed the manager towards the back of the club, and down a set of stairs. Her heart pumped hard in her ears and her palms started to sweat as she was led inside a dimly lit room with a handful of sofa chairs and a small stage with a dancing pole, some kind of music that seemed straight out of a porno carrying through the speakers. A spiral staircase was tucked in the right corner, and she guessed that is where the strippers made their entrance from.
Beca wondered how far things usually went in these kinds of private rooms.
She wondered how far  Chloe  went.
She cast the guy a tight-lipped smile and a nod before he closed the door, and paced the room for a little while, eventually lowering herself on one of the leather chairs and wiping her palms on her designer slacks.
The clicking of heels over metal made Beca’s spine snap straighter. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder as the steps grew nearer, digging her nails into her thighs as a new round of nerves gripped her insides.
“Good evening, sweetheart,” the huskiness of Chloe’s voice made Beca swallow, and she felt a hand run over her shoulders as Chloe approached from behind.
Glancing up, Beca met familiar, ocean blues.
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gintokisimp · 3 years
Text
Happy Birthday Gin-san!
One-Shot about Gintoki's 30th birthday. Tsukuyo has a special present for the clueless Gintoki.  The setting of the fic is an already lightly romantic established GinTsu relationship. They already had some kind of romantic encounters, but it was never quite enough for anyone to make a first move. Basically all of them could be seen as „Well, that was awkward, but we are friends so it’s funny.“
Genre: Fluff, First Kiss Stuff
Rating: General Audience
Word Count: 1,960
"Gin-chan, wake up! wake up!"
Kagura's scream echoed through the Yorozuya banged on his door before tearing it open with an ugly sound.
"You're an old man now, no more sleeping in late" She continued to scream with full volume.
"Shut up!" Gintoki screamed back and opened his eyes. He sure felt like an old man already. His life was okay now, after the ending of the canon material. But something was missing, but he also didn't care enough to find out what exactly was missing.
Kagura brought in a birthday cake with 3 sloppily placed candles, topped with one single strawberry. Gintoki frowned looking at the candles.
"I'm 30, not 3." He blurted.
"Yes yes, right. You're so old, I need to use one candle for 10 years, that's how old you are!" She explained to him. Gintoki snorted.
"Why are you so happy so early in the morning?!"
"Here, eat up or mommys gonna be pissed!"
She ignored his bad mood and lifted the fork, forcing the cake in his mouth.
"Ah Kagura stop that, I can eat myself." He picked the fork out of her hand and grumpily ate the cake, sharing it with her. To be exact, Kagura shared with him. She ate most of the cake.
"We're gonna have a party today, yes we will!" She announced.
He groaned in disapproval, a party was the last thing he wanted.
"Zura and Elisabeth are coming, that weird space guy, Shinpachi of course, Gorilla boss lady, -"
"How many people did you invite?!" He interrupted her.
"Mayofreak, Gorilla, that sadistic assface" She ended her list.
"Did you invite the whole Shinsengumi?!"
"Yes of course! It's a special occasion after all!"
"Who's gonna pay for that?!"
"You don't need to pay, don't worry. It's your birthday!"
She happily jumped to her feet, snatching the plate from his hands, on her way to leave his room.
"Thank you, Kagura" Gintoki mumbled. She turned around and smiled.
He laid down again and sighed.
Just forget my birthday already, no one cares about that.
"No more sleeping! Get up now!" Kagura screamed from outside.
Angrily mumbling Gintoki crawled out of his futon and prepared himself for the shitty day.
---------------  x ---------------
The Yorozuya office was packed.
Every possible sitting space was occupied, the room filled with familiar faces. The mood was exuberant, but Gintoki still didn't warm up to the idea of the party.
All guests had arrived by now and the alcohol rose to everyone's head, while Gintoki tried to keep the excitement down. They tried to toast on his birthday several times, but he always denied it, frantically searching for excuses.
Once, he spurted over to the kitchen, pretending that he left the stove on.
Another time, he feigned to be asleep on the couch.
There was no reason for a celebration. There never was.
Katsura had just spilled his third beer all over the floor and Gintoki was kneeling down, searching for some napkins in a drawer, when suddenly the shoji door opened and another trio entered the room. "Hey Tsukki, Hinowa, Seita!" Kagura shouted happily.
Gintoki's heart stumbled. He abruptly lifted his head, banging his head against the drawer. Rubbing his back of the head, he stood up straight and faced the new guests.
Kagura didn't tell me they were coming as well..
"Tsukki…,what are you doing here?" He asked nervously
"Gin-san, Happy Birthday!"
Hinowa said with a singing voice, reaching for his hand to press it lightly, shaking it excitedly.
"Here, we have a present for you!" Seita hugged him turbulently with a small package in his hands, giving it to him with a big smile.
"It's ya birthday, are we not invited?" Tsukuyo mumbled, arms crossed in front of her chest, averting her eyes, Kiseru in her mouth.
Hinowa slightly pushed in Tsukuyos ribs.
"Don't you-?"
She whispered and Tsukuyo blushed slightly before she eyed Gintoki.
Confused, he tilted his head, Seita still jumping around in front of him.
Tsukuyo sighed, closed the few steps between them, walked around Seita and spread out her arms, wrapping them around Gintoki.
He was baffled.
Hugs? Since when does she give out hugs?
"Happy Birthday" She mumbled incomprehensibly.
Tsukuyo hugged him tight, a little too tight. He could feel her arms cramping around him and her heart racing against his. Well, that's awkward. Gintoki felt his heart speed up as well.
"Oi oi, not so unruly, you're almost assaulting me" He laughed nervously.
She tensed up, let out an angry sound and smashed him to the ground, pressing the air out of his lungs.
"That's a nice present, did not expect anything else from you.." He mumbled, lying exhausted on his back.
Tsukuyo was standing over him, her face beet red.
"Tsukki, are you okay? Are you sick?" Kagura shouted from her seat on the couch.
"'s fine" She blurted.
"Oi, why does no one care about me? It's my birthday and I just got crashed into the damn floor" Gintoki grumbled.
"You're fine." Kagura simply replied.
"Nothing new" Shinpachi shouted from the other side. Hinowa smiled happily.
"Oi, why are you happy? Why are you happy?!"
---------------  x ---------------
The evening had gone by mostly uneventfully. Katsura had tried to battle everyone in a game of uno, but he failed miserably, losing every single time. The now close to tears samurai was comforted by Elisabeth in one corner of the room.
"This never happens to me, I'm so good at this game!" He cried in his sleeve.
Elisabeth held up a sign: You're the best player!
Tatsumas laughter repeatedly echoed through the room. It was the most annoying sound of the evening. Gintoki had the strong urge to kick his head in.
"Kintoki, drink something with me!" He called out to him, completely wasted.
"It's Gintoki, can't ya at least get it correctly on my birthday?!" Gintoki hadn't touched a single drop. He still didn't feel like celebrating.
The Shinsengumi members happily drank in their own little round and were joined by Hinowa, Kagura and Shinpachi. Seita played on his new TS. unbothered by the commotion around him. Otae and Kyuubei sat on his table, sharing some food, leaving Gintoki and Tsukuyo alone.
"So.. how are ya" Gintoki started after some minutes of silence between them.
"Whaddaya mean?" She replied uninterested, smoking her kiseru.
"I asked about your well-being , what do you not understand?"
"Why are ya asking, you never ask that" She simply replied.
"Fine, I won't do it again." Offended, Gintoki crossed his arms in front of his chest.
He glanced over to her, their eyes met and both of them turned away, slightly blushing.
Hinowa turned her attention to Tsukuyo, noticing the thick tension between them.
"Tell him how you are, it's not that hard." She chuckled, slightly drunk and continued talking to Kondo with great interest. Hinowa had recently started to bond with him, much to her disapproval. She didn't want the police involved in Yoshiwaras business.
Tsukuyo huffed.
"'s fine, I guess." She finally replied to his question.
"Ah.. I see."
"and how is it?"
"How is what?"
"Being old." She grimaced maliciously.
Gintoki scoffed. "It's not that different from yesterday, it's just one day later."
"okay.."
"I don't know.. lonely" He continued.
"You don't have to be lonely," Tsukuyo said, still looking in another direction.
"..what do you mean?" Gintoki turned in her direction.
"I urr I.. I mean..you have Kagura and Shinpachi.. you're not alone"
Gintoki paused.
"Yea right, I'm not alone, but still lonely"
"That's not true, Gintoki."
"Sooner or later Kagura will move out, Shinpachi will find a girlfriend, and they will be living their own lives. I'll be a single left alone dad by then. Maybe I should buy myself a woman in Yoshiwara.." His thoughts trailed off.
"Ya couldn't afford that anyways. Besides.. I'm sure there's someone for you" Tsukuyo's voice got lower with the progression of her sentence.
"Really? Who is it, is she hot? Does she have big boobs? Please tell me she's not from the Hyakka"
"..kind of"
"Tell me, who is it?" He was invested now.
"Well..-"
"Tsukki, don't you still have another present?" Tsukuyo jumped at Hinowas interruption.
"No I don't. It's already late, let's go home." Tsukuyo answered quickly and she stood up hastily, leaving the disappointed Gintoki behind.
"Okay, if you say so."
Seita helped Hinowa and they said their goodbyes, walking to the front door. Gintoki stood up as well and accompanied them to the exit like a good host.
"You can tell me Tsukki, I won't tell anyone!"
But she just ignored him. He gave up.
"Thanks for coming, hope you enjoyed it." He said politely.
"Oh Gin-san of course we did! It's always pleasant to be around both of you !" Hinowas smiled.
Gintoki was confused "Why do you say 'both of you' so weird?"
Hinowa didn't reply and Tsukuyo pushed her to the door. Halfway, she stopped and turned around, facing the in the door leaning Gintoki.
"Gintoki..I .. I actually have another present for you" She started quietly.
Hinowas gasped slightly.
"She's gonna do it!" She whispered to Seita.
"Eh? I don't need presents, I thought I already said that." Gintoki waved his hand dismissively.
"It's just.. something small."
"uh.. okay?"
"you jus..just need to come a bit closer."
"You're scaring me."
"Or I can just come to you.."
Tsukuyo carefully walked back, stopping right in front of him at a very short distance. Sweat formed on his forehead.
"Close your eyes." She whispered.
He did.
Gintoki felt her small hands on his, turning his palm around, laying her hand in his. But there was nothing in her hand.
There's nothing there, What could it be? -
That's when she kissed him. No warning, no preparations. She just kissed him then and there in the doorway, right on the lips, in full view of everyone.
Gintoki forgot to think at all.
Her warm soft lips on his spread a fire in his body, crawling under his skin, burning the hands that were covered by her soft fingers.
One second.
The whole room went silent, Tatsumas laughter died.
If you listened carefully enough, you could've heard a feather falling to the wooden floor.
Two seconds.
Gintoki's head started to spin. His eyes opened slightly and he saw her face through his lashes.
Three seconds.
That was over the limit of an accidental kiss.
It was not a shy kiss,
it was brisk,
setting a complete new point in their relationship.
Her feathery touch on his hand tightened, sending a shiver that traveled down his spine, making his heart beat painfully fast.
Gintoki slightly opened his lips, about to return the kiss, but she retreated, her face tinted in a shade of red he had never seen before.
Tsukuyo smiled lovingly and lifted a finger, brushing it over his open mouth, caressing his lips.
"Happy Birthday"
She whispered and turned around on her heels, hooking the excited chattering Hinowa into her arms and quickly excited through the front door.
Gintoki just stood there, dumbfounded, unable to move.
The kiss wasn't that long, and it certainly wasn't a scene from a shoujo manga with a great backdrop, exciting atmosphere and a big buildup, but it was wonderful.
Nothing else was able to reach his mind in this moment, he only knew he would remember it forever.
Several minutes went by.
Still, no one had said a word.
Everyone stared at him and Gintoki stared at the door where he had last seen her.
“ehh.. Gin-san..? Is everything ok?" Shinpachi asked carefully, the sounds slowly returning to the room.
Gintoki's fingers slowly lifted up to touch his lips, her sweet taste still lingering on them.
“what…?" ..did just happen?
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remmyswritings · 4 years
Text
our secret pt. 4// regulus black x reader
ok so i’ll admit this one definitely has a bit less of regulus x reader dynamic but that’s only bc we see more regulus and sirius / reader and sirius, reader with her best friend Stephanie (surprise @firewhisky-kisses��) and then one more towards the end that’s a surprise.... I really hope you all like this one :) <3
taglist: @summer-writes @willowbleedsonpaper @obsessedwithrandomthings @firewhisky-kisses @potterverseimagine @in-slytherin-we-trust @masterofthedarkness @imboredandneedalife @lila-lilakk @strawberriesonsummer @62442-am @nebulablakemurphy @kashishwrites @pcseidcnsvoid @mytreec @curious-curios @jenniweaslee @cherrycolakxsses @peeves-a-legend @booksmusicteaandanimals @heart-of-tempered-steel 
part 1
part 2
part 3
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“Love,” you looked up from the newspaper to see your husband standing in the kitchen doorway, “what are you still doing here? I thought you said you had to get into the office early.”
“Oh I do,” then you motioned toward the stairs behind him, “but you brother is currently busy hogging all of our hot water.”
Regulus came over and placed a long kiss on your head, “I’m sorry that he’s been staying here for so long darling.”
“Reg, you know that doesn’t bother me, what does is how long he takes in the shower.”
As if you manifested him with your words, Sirius came strutting into the kitchen, his hair still wet from the shower, “Good morning fire + whiskey. What are we discussing on this fine morning?”
You and Regulus both rolled your eyes at the nickname Sirius had given you. When you first heard it, it was when Sirius sat in the middle of your living room completely wasted… that was 4 months ago. 
“We were wondering what exactly it is you do in the shower Sirius,” the glint in your eyes shining as brightly as ever, “we might have to start charging you for every shower you take.”
“Alright, I’m sorry,” Sirius ran his hand through his hair, “And thanks for letting me stay here, I really do appreciate it.”
You reminded Sirius, just as you did every morning, that you were fine with him taking over your guest room. You knew that him and Reg both deserved a life where they could actually spend time with another… Now if only you could find someone for Sirius.
After finally being able to take a shower you rushed around, hoping to get to work as soon as possible. When you hopped down the stairs, you found Regulus standing at the door with your bag in hand, “Don’t worry everything is already packed.”
“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” you gave him a chaste kiss on the lips.
“Hmm,” Regulus pulled you in for one more kiss, “I’m not sure, let me get my notebook where I keep track of how many times you tell me you love me.”
Regulus acted as if he were going to carry you back into the house but instead turned you around and set you down on your front porch, “I love you and I hope you have a nice day at work.” 
“Do you think I’ll ever have what you two have Reg?” Regulus turned around to see Sirius leaning against the bannister with a look of longing in his eyes. 
Regulus nodded his head and squeezed Sirius’ shoulder, “I think you will. Say, I think Y/N might know someone who would be a good fit for you, why don’t you ask her?”
“Are you sure?” Sirius turned to look his brother in the eyes, “When it comes to my wife, I believe in her 10000%.”
While Regulus and Sirius were talking you had apparated near one of the stops on the tube and rushed towards the entrance of the Ministry of Magic. You were grateful to have gotten a job at the Department of International Magical Cooperation when you and Regulus returned to London but you definitely did not like your boss who gave you hell for every little mistake you made. Thankfully you weren’t greeted by him when you walked into the office instead you found your good friend Stephanie there, holding a cup of your favorite caffeinated drink in her hand.
“To what do I owe this greeting today?” You smiled at Stephanie as you grabbed the drink out of her hand. 
She smirked, “How about me getting our boss off your back for the rest of the week?”
“I swear Steph, you are the absolute best,” you took a sip of your drink, relishing in the comfort the warmth brought you. 
The two of you walked down the hall and towards your desks knowing that the second you sat down you’d be bombarded by your male coworkers asking for you to send notices for them and whatnot. When lunch time rolled around, you and Steph stepped out of the Ministry and headed towards the cafe the two of you found on your first day at work. 
“Alright Steph, you haven’t said a word about your date at all,” you looked over at your friend to see her making a face, “So was it really that bad?”
“Ugh,” her head fell into her hands as she groaned, “it was so bad that I don’t have the words to describe how bad it was.”
You thought back to the past couple months of watching Sirius also go on blind dates only for them to all crash and burn, “Do you have any plans this weekend?”
“No, I don’t,” she looked at you to see the twinkle in your eye that let her know you were scheming, “whyyy?”
“Just trust me,” you looked down at your watch, “and would you look at that we have to head back to the office.”
You were so tired when you made it home that you almost forgot about your plan. Well, you almost did until Regulus brought up the question that Sirius had asked him after you had left. 
“Would it be crazy if I set up a friend of mine with your brother?” your fingers danced over Regulus’ shoulder and down his arm to meet his hand.
He placed a couple light kisses up and down your neck, “No, I don’t think so. I take it you are talking about Stephanie?”
You hummed in agreement as Regulus slowly trailed up to your jaw, “You should mention her to Sirius tomorrow at breakfast.”
“Ok,” you shifted closer so that instead of resting on the pillows, you used your husband’s chest for support and soon fell asleep.
When you woke up the next morning you found yourself face-to-face with Regulus’ sleeping form. It was rare for you to wake up before him, so you took advantage of the sight in front of you. Your fingers slowly ran up and down his face, trailing down his nose before drawing the outline of his lips. Surprisingly, Regulus hadn’t woken up to your touch, so you brought your lips to his forehead and then his eyelids and then his nose, which is when you finally felt him start to stir.
“Hmm, I could get used to waking up like this,” he muttered, his voice still scratchy from having just woken up.
You started to pepper his jawline with kisses, making sure to avoid his lips knowing that the action would bother him, “Are you sure you want to be woken up like this?”
“Can you please kiss me already?” Regulus whined.
“Mhmm,” you leaned down very slowly, your lips practically touching when you suddenly jumped out of bed, “how about later?”
Regulus whined at the loss of your touch and could only watch as you grabbed your outfit for the day and jumped into the shower. When the hum of the water filled the air he begrudgingly headed towards the kitchen where he found Sirius standing at the counter with a cup of coffee in his hands.
“Good morning, where’s the fire to your whiskey?” Regulus sat down across from his brother, who was making him a cup.
He motioned to the upstairs portion of the house, “She’s currently enjoying our hot water since you aren’t getting wet.”
“That’s nice,” Sirius muttered.
Regulus faced his brother and looked at him inquisitively, “Are you okay Sirius?”
Sirius sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, “I’m not sure… I don’t know. That French girl that I went on a date with a couple weeks ago stopped by yesterday to talk and she said she doesn’t quite understand why I acted as if I wanted an actual relationship with her, but that is what I wanted!”
“Hey,” Regulus spoke softly, “You’ll find that person.”
“And how can you be so sure about that Reg? Whenever I find someone who seems interested, turns out all they want is a good fuck and that may have been what I wanted a couple years ago but not anymore,” Sirius groaned in frustration.
“Well,” Regulus hesitated, “Y/N told me last night that she’s been thinking about setting you up with a friend of hers at the office. She thinks you’ll be good for one another.”
When Regulus finished the sentence, you appeared at the doorway of the kitchen, “I heard my name. Are you trying to summon me darling?”
“Love,” Regulus pulled you into his arms, “I was just mentioning your friend to Sirius.”
“Oh perfect!” You turned to face Sirius, noting how disheartened he looked, “Sirius, I really do think she’ll be perfect for you.”
Sirius nodded his head, “What is she like?”
“Well her name is Stephanie, she was a Puff back at Hogwarts. She’s a super loyal person, honest, and very strong and quite frankly she has this adorableness to her but she isn’t willing to get dirty if need be,” you watched as Sirius' eyes lit up at her description, “and she wants to be with someone who will accept her for who she is completely.”
“Do you think she’d like me?” Sirius’ voice sounded so vulnerable.
You nodded, “I think she’d love you. Why don’t you come up with some date ideas with Reg and I’ll see if she’s free this weekend.”
Looking at the time, you rushed over and gave Sirius a big hug before you and Regulus met at the front door where you gave him a long kiss on the lips and the two of you said your goodbyes and I love yous.
Sirius soon came up with just the idea for his date and after begging slightly to his younger brother he set up your backyard with a multitude of fairy lights. After sending a letter to you before lunch time, you convinced Stephanie to stop by your place for dinner and made sure to let her know that she wouldn’t be having dinner with you and Regulus.
When you arrived home to see what Sirius had created, you knew your suspicions were right and confidently left Sirius alone as you took Regulus out to muggle London with you. As you and your husband went to the movie theater, Stephanie arrived at your house all dressed up.
She knocked on the door only to her surprise for Sirius Black to open the door for her, “Hello.”
“Hi Stephanie, I’m Sirius,” he opened the door further, “Why don’t you come on in?”
She walked into the house to see that the fairy lights had been extended to the main hallway, filling the room with a golden shimmer. When she made it to the kitchen, she saw that Sirius was still preparing dinner, “I hope you don’t mind waiting a bit.”
“No not at all. What are you making?” She leaned in closer, the smell consuming her every thought as she ended up with her chest pressing against Sirius’ back.
He turned to see her standing so close to him but in a way that was different from how his previous dates did, “oh, it’s this pasta recipe that Y/N mentioned you really liked. I hope I do it justice to be honest with you.”
“The fact that you are even making me dinner right now, is absolutely amazing,” she took a deep breath in, “and it smells really good.”
A couple minutes later, Sirius levitated some plates over and served dinner for the both of them, but instead of heading towards the dining table he led Stephanie to the backyard where he had set up a table for two.
“I hope you don’t mind being outside,” Sirius blushes slightly as Stephanie stood at the doorway in shock at the sight in front of her, “I just knew that the stars would look extra beautiful tonight and I wanted to share that with you.”
Stephanie finally turned to Sirius, “This is the best thing anyone has done for me before.”
The two of them sat down and conversed for hours on end. Even after they had finished their food, and Y/N and Regulus had returned from their night out, and Sirius brought out a blanket for the two of them to stargaze for a while. They were so caught up in one another they hadn’t even realized that they’d fallen asleep in one another’s arms, only to wake up the next morning with the sun shining in their faces.
“I’m so sorry,” Sirius looked down bashfully, “I didn’t mean to keep you here with me all night.”
Stephanie reached out and cupped Sirius’ face, “Sirius, I had the most amazing time last night and not once did I think about wanting to leave.”
“Could- could we do this again sometime?” Sirius looked at Stephanie with a face that reminded her of puppy dog eyes.
She nodded, “I’d love to… that is if you’d like to.”
“Ya, ya,” he nodded his head eagerly, “I’d love to as well.”
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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.
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“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.
Or
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.
Or
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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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“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.”
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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“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!”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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“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.
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“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.
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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.”
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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.”
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“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.
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“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.”
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“You’re too indecisive,” Chan said, finally taking a well-deserved seat next to me on the futon. 
“And you have terrible taste in cinema,” Felix retorted.
“Yeah? Well maybe we should just let Y/N pick,” Chan suggested, mouthing a sweet kiss against my temple.
“I think Felix should decide,” I said, cuddling up closer to Chan’s side. 
“Really?” Felix asked, appearing entirely surprised that I would allow him such freedom.
“Why not?” I sighed happily. “I’ll even watch that weird anime movie if you want.”
Felix scoffed but a faint smile remained as he grabbed the remote. Chan chuckled and leaned down to press another kiss to the top of my forehead. “I’m proud of you, sweetie,” he whispered.
“It’s only because I love you so much,” I said while shrugging indifferently, but Chan could always read through me.
“Hmm, well I love you more,” he said, brushing his fingers through my hair as the opening credits rolled across the screen.
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cosmiccandydreamer · 4 years
Text
Stability Chapter 11
Otis Driftwood x Reader
Masterlist is here.
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"You listen to me, and you listen well! I am gonna kill every member of your family! I'm gonna hunt them down like the animals they are, and I'm gonna skin em' alive! They are going to feel the pain and suffering of every last victim!" A disgusting squishy sound-filled the empty void of the cell. Sheriff Wydell had stabbed Mama Firefly in the stomach and twisted it until the light left her eyes. 
He was done playing this cat and mouse game. Mama's last taunt and laughter that ran through the station after more questioning pushed him over the edge. He had grabbed a large knife from his office and stabbed her in the stomach. As she fell to the ground he stood and took in the scene of what he had done. There was no turning back now, people like these people are monsters he thought to himself and the only thing monsters fear are other monsters. He had discovered through the interrogation that his brother was indeed murdered by Mama herself when he had come to investigate the cheerleader's disappearance.
 Sheriff John Wydell's eyes widened at the sight of his dead brother getting up from the couch he was sitting on, he began stuttering "I'm, I'm walking the line on this brother. I'm... I'm walking".George Wydell scoffed and answered sarcastically "Well, mother pin a rose on me, that is so great! I want these motherfuckers dead! Kill 'em!" John Wydell jumped up in a cold sweat… oh it was just a dream he thought, or was it? It couldn't be this hard to be signed by his brother that he needed to avenge him. "I'm brother, I'm trying," he thought to himself. 
"Why are you over here all by yourself handsome? Married or not you don't gotta be all alone"... Candy had slinked over to where Otis was laying on the couch downing a bottle of Jack Daniels. The rest of the crew was partying with the ladies at the brothel. Otis wasn't in the mood to party though. He wanted to get out of here and get moving. 
He felt guilty which was surprising for someone like him, that he was here enjoying a safe environment for the night without knowing where you were. "What do you want woman" he scoffed and attempted to get up.. "now now lay down You look like a mess Is your back hurting or something I can give you a massage I am a masseuse Well at least I can give a good enough massage that feels like I'm a masseuse" Candy said in a sultry voice twirling her hair, "listen here woman I said I ain't fucking you so go on and get" Otis said shooing her away with his hand.
 "Hey now no one said anything about fucking! How about I help you out friend to friend? You just must be tense worrying about your old lady out there". She sat next to him on the couch, he slowly got up to face her, "just a massage right No funny business or I'll throw your ass through the window". "Duly noted" she laughed and helped him stand grabbing his arm. She led him to a soft mattress on the floor. 
Sheriff Wydell on the other hand was not having the best night either, he was racking his brain on what was the next step to take for finding the four of you. He found himself staring at himself in the mirror talking to himself "You know I got to tell you, that's some catch phrase you got there, Devil's Rejects. What? You got something to say to me clown, huh. I bet you scare lots of folks, don't ya? Yeah, regular fuckiin' killer. You want a piece of this motherfucker? You want a piece of this? Huh, what you got! What you got! Lord I am your arm of justice. Lord I am your arm of justice. Lord I am your arm of justice. Your righteous sword of vengeance. Let my blows be true. From the illusion leads me to truth. From darkness leads me to light. From death leads me to eternal life." 
"Ah sir? That guy you asked for is here" his deputy Ray Dobson knocked on the door to his office breaking him out of his trance.  It was his deputy, who made the connection that  the aliases the family members usually went by and their connection to the old Groucho Marx films. He also discovered that the Fireflies were associated with the local clowns celebrity Captain Spaulding. Hoping to gain some insight into this connection, Wydell brought in film critic Marty Walker for consultation. 
The over the top Marty illustrated how each of the killers named themselves after characters played by Groucho Marx throughout the course of his career. Things between Wydell and Walker quickly became unsavory when the critic made a remark about Elvis Presley. Marty head scateched his head while looking at the clues pinned to the board "that goddamn fucking Elvis Presley." Sheriff Wydell looked up at him with his eyes wide and full of rage. 
"What'd you say about the King?!" Marty was clearly taken aback by the sudden tone change and looked around at everyone else in the room before sputtering out "I said he died three days before Grouch…" Wydell walked very close to him, looked him deep in the eyes and slowly said "Marty... if you ever say another derogatory word about Elvis Aaron Presley I WILL KICK THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU!". 
"Boss don't you remember we had to run in with that guy Charlie not too long ago didn't he stay around with the guy named Spalding?" Ray quickly replied trying to defuse the situation. "Well goddamn you're right Ray… let's go pay Mr. Charlie boy a visit" he backed away from Marty and grabbed his hat. "Be seeing you Marty" 
Spalding had told Charlie that if he went and bought some fresh chicken He whipped them up some fried chicken on the house as a thank you for letting them hide out there. Unbeknownst to Charlie Sheriff Wydell had spotted him leaving the funtown and heading towards the chicken stand. He corners Charlie and demands that he give up the three of them and if he had any information on where you were he needs to give that information up to or it would not end well for him.
 He also asked him if he catches Otis in any compromising situations if he could snap a photo. It would be in his best interest. "I was also wondering," Wydell said, closing the car door a bit more on Charlie. He had closed his car door on Charlie's hands after instructing him to approach the vehicle once they cornered him in with their vehicle. "Is this girl with them by any chance? and I'm only going to give you one chance to answer me honestly" he held up a picture of you, Charlie shook his head viciously "no no naw she ain't with them gods truth man god's truth".. "god's truth hmm well you know where she is? I would like to have a little chat with her" Wydell replied. "Oh c'mon what's that lil girl gonna do" Charlie attempted to chuckle. "Hmm" Wydell said "looks can be deceiving, anyways tonight midnight I'll be seeing you". He released his hand and drove off in a cloud of dirt and smoke.
Back at the house unfortunately or fortunately depending on how you look at it for Otis, Candy was actually a very good masseuse and actually did just give him massage without reaching for his penis which is what he assumed was going to happen. His back was killing him from the hours of driving and that shit van they had stolen from the family back at the motel. 
He also was holding a lot of stress in his shoulders from the anxiety of the plan not going his way and not having any word from you now for multiple days. Unfortunately now she wouldn't stop following him around which was starting to piss him off because one she was annoying and two his back was still hurting and he could have used another massage. "You sure you don't want another one I mean you passed out during yesterday's massage just let me do your shoulders just a little more" she said skipping toward him.
 He wasn't sure if she was just trying to be nice or she was trying to wear him down to fuck her or something. He sat cleaning his knife while staring off into space thinking about you and when you gave this knife to him. You were in town with Baby and wandered into an antique store. You knew as soon as you saw it you had to have it.. he was overjoyed at the knife and vowed to never go anywhere without it. 
"What took you all so long? You said you were just heading into town for some supplies tonight" He asked , slamming the screen door behind him and walking out towards the car. You had insisted on driving your mustang into town with Baby on a girl's trip while he was in the middle of a project. He was hesitant but he allowed it because he knew that you two could probably use some girl time, he wasn't the easiest to always be around. 
"Oh shut up Don't know why you always got to be rushing people" Baby replied flipping her hair and strolling past Otis. "Fuck you" "no fuck you" "no fuck" "Hey!!" You yelled waving your hand in his face. "I took so long because I got you something, I saw it and I couldn't pass it up". You pulled out a dark paper bag and handed it to him. He looked inside and got silent, it was a large beautiful knife. Taking it out the bag he held it in his large hands and studied it closely. "Shit darlin this, this is beautiful..for me huh?" "Yeah of course!" "Why though?" He asked looking back at you with general confusion on his face. You walked over and stepped up on your tippy toes to softly kiss him. "Just wanted to do something nice because I love you". You said patting his chest and walking inside after Baby.
 He stood there for a few more moments looking at the knife and tucking it in his boot. Once inside he grabbed you by the waist and kissed you deep. "Thanks.. ah.. I just don't know how to accept gifts, not used to 'em." "Well I'm glad you like it" you smiled up at him "had me worried for a second I was starting wonder if you didn't like it" "naw I love it it's going everywhere with me always" he said wrapping his long arms around you "just like you". 
"Stop hovering woman!! If I need anything from you I'd ask now get" he huffed at her looking back to his knife. She stood for a moment and turned on her heels and headed away. Charlie headed back to the house trying to swallow the anxiety in his throat. He didn't want to betry the group but he also wanted to protect his business and livelyhood. He stopped at the liquor store and grabbed a bunch more bottles of Jack Daniels, might as well get them drunk and make this shit easier. 
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morceid · 3 years
Text
Beating The Dead Swan
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Chapter 4: hold on for your life
read on ao3
<- chapter three
Summary: The team makes progress on the case and Spencer makes progress with Derek.
Word Count: 1.8k
Category: angst, some fluff
Content Warnings: drug mention, general criminal minds stuff
A/N: so sorry this took so long to finish writing! i just had some other things i needed to do for school stuff before i did this but enjoy!!
The next day Derek walked into the BAU, ready to give Hotch a rundown of how they were handling the case, but something caught his eye.
Through the windows of the office Spencer now occupied, there was an art easel propped up next to the couch. A sheet covered in various paints and colors laid on the floor as Spencer brushed a sky of purple and blue on the canvas.
“Whatcha doin’ there, kid?”
“Oh, oh hi Agent Morgan, I hope this is okay, I just wanted to paint.” Spencer stammered.
“It’s fine, it looks good too. How long have you been painting?”
“I’m fairly certain I was 8, could’ve been 9 though, my dad left around then and it’s all kind of blurry.”
A thick silence surrounded the two, the only sound being the brush against the cloth canvas.
“Um, I’m sorry. Anyways, what are you going to be doing today?” Spencer swiped his finger through the purple color he’d mixed and dabbed it across the wet paint.
“Well, Garcia is looking through the bank records of all the victims. If there’s anything suspicious then she’ll look into it and we might even take the case as a team, but for now it’s just me and her. I’m going to talk to my boss right now, I’ll talk to you later though.” Derek turned towards the doorway but Spencer stopped him.
“Morgan, uh, do you think, do you think you’ll catch whoever did this to Camille?”
“I sure hope we do. You deserve some closure. We all do.”
“Yeah, yeah just sometimes, it feels, I don’t know, captivating in all the wrong ways.”
“I know. But it gets better, I promise you. See you in a bit.” Derek left the office and headed towards the bullpen.
Spencer exhaled and studied the paint on his hand. The cold feeling, the intense smell, and the sound as he slapped it across the canvas.
“Hey, any updates?” Hotch asked Derek as he opened the door to his office.
“Nah, not really. All the people we’ve interviewed are completely innocent. Penelope’s checking men with sexual offenses that our victims could’ve interacted with but I’m not sure we’re gonna find anything.”
“Alright, you should probably check on that now, I’ll see you later if there are any updates.”
“See ya, boss.” Derek said as he walked back down the steps and across the hall to Penelope’s office.
“Hello my soulmate and love of my life Derek Morgan, how can I help you today?” Penelope excitedly exclaimed as Derek walked into her office.
“Hey baby girl, get anything from your search?”
“Unfortunately, no. None of the victims had close family that had both a connection to the company or a sexual offense, in fact there are no sex offenders in the area that have any connection to the company at all. They really do triple check everyone’s background.”
“There has got to be some connection somewhere. Did the M.E. do another tox screen?” Derek asked.
“Yep, and it seems that all of the victims had massive doses of ketamine in their systems.”
“Camille had ketamine in her blood?” Spencer walked into the office and started the two.
“Oh! Spencer, you can’t be in here, not right now.” Derek rushed to take him out of the room.
“Wh- why can’t I? Camille was my friend, I deserve to know about her. Did she have drugs in her body?”
“Spencer, you can’t be interrupting an investigation. I’m sorry, but you need to go back to your office.”
Spencer stops trying to push against Derek and exhales, trying to catch his breath. They walked back towards the office they now called home while squeezing his hands in intervals of three, a trick to calm himself down Camille had taught him. He fell onto the couch and fell asleep quickly, deciding not to fight the tired feeling his eyes gave him.
They woke up what felt like around thirty minutes later, but the digital clock he set on the table next to the brown leather couch read 11:43. He got up and grabbed flannel pants and a sweater from his bag of clothes and headed to the bathroom to change into the pajamas. They grabbed his chess set from his office and went into the breakroom. Their stomach growled and they recalled that they went to Penelope’s office earlier to ask if he could have the rest of the soup. He looked around the bullpen, wondering if they’d mind if he ate something from the fridge.
Agent Rossi walked out of his office and took notice of Spencer.
“Hey, what are you doing up? The only person here this late is generally that guy.” Rossi pointed towards Agent Hotchner’s office. The microwave on the counter now displayed 12:06.
“I-I took an unexpectedly long nap and uh, I didn’t eat lunch or dinner to- well technically yesterday now, uh, c-could I have something from the fridge?” Spencer stammered.
“Of course, kid. In fact, there’s some of my signature pasta in there. I make it weekly for the rest of the team, but today Derek ordered something for lunch so he didn’t eat his. You can have it if you want.”
“Thank you, Agent Rossi.” Spencer took the tupperware container out of the refrigerator and put it in the microwave.
“You can just call me Rossi, you don’t have to do the whole Agent thing,” Rossi said as he sat on the other side of Spencer’s chess game. “I didn’t know you played.”
The microwave beeped and Spencer took the bowl out and stirred it around with a fork. They brought it to the table, eating it as they moved a chess piece.
“Yeah, Camille gave me this set for my birthday, which actually isn't for another couple weeks but she didn’t want to wait.”
“You know, I had this old friend, Jason Gideon, he played chess. I think you’d like him. He’s the one who taught me.” Rossi moved his own chess piece.
“He sounds interesting. I fell asleep before Morgan could tell me anything, but have you made any good progress on the case?”
“A little. We found out how all of the girls died but we just can’t seem to figure out why the unsub did this.”
“Unsub?” Spencer said, moving another chess piece.
“Unknown Subject, it’s what we call the murderer. I’ve looked over your files, you seem like a really smart person.”
“Yeah, I uh, I can read pretty fast. I have an eidetic memory, too. I was a pretty good punching bag as a kid.”
“The world will see something amazing and try to take it for their own.” Rossi absentmindedly moved a piece.
“Yeah, I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”
“So, I’m assuming you don’t have much of a record with the ladies?”
“None at all. I’ve been intrigued by a couple guys, but they’ve all turned me down or turned out to be assholes,” Spencer laughed and moved another one of his pieces before taking another bite of spaghetti. “What about you? You’ve got to have courted some girl with this amazing pasta.”
“Yeah, I have, I actually got three ex wives.”
“Wow, that’s impressive.”
“Depends on your definition of impressive,” It was Rossi’s turn to laugh and move a piece. “You’ve got your eyes on him, don’t you?”
Spencer looked puzzled for a second before Rossi nudged the tupperware lid that had Derek’s name written across the top.
“Maybe, just a little bit. I’d be lying if I didn’t think he was attractive,” Spencer moved a piece. “Check.”
“I think he might like you too.” Rossi moved a piece.
“I don’t. He’s nice, but I don’t think he’d like me back.” Spencer moved a piece.
“I know you haven’t known me for long, Spencer, but I’m right about this,” Rossi moved another piece. “Checkmate. You’re smart, but you’ve still got a lot to learn.”
Rossi got up from the table and started walking out to his car. Spencer packed up his chess set and made a pot of coffee before heading to their office. For the rest of the night they drank his coffee and worked on the painting still sitting on the easel. 
At around six in the morning Spencer was getting ready to brew another pot of coffee and JJ walked into the breakroom. 
“Oh! Hi, uh, are you gonna be here long?” JJ asked.
“Uh, no, why?”
“Uh, Agent Hotchner called us in because he found something with the case. You’re not gonna be allowed in here when he’s telling us, I’m sorry.”
“Oh it’s fine, I’ve been up all night so I should probably just go take a nap anyways.”
They shared an awkward laugh before Spencer went back into the office and promptly fell back asleep on the couch.
Almost six hours later Spencer woke up to Derek knocking on his door. They got up and straightened out their sweater.
“Hey, so Hotch wants you there to hear the profile, just thought you should know.” Derek said, taking in the pajamas Spencer was wearing.
“Oh, okay, thanks.” 
Derek went back out to the bullpen and Spencer closed the blinds of the office windows before changing his flannel pants to jeans. When they finished dressing he went out to the bullpen and sat on the edge of an unused desk. Police officers were scattered around the area.
“You look like you need this.” Derek said as he sat next to Spencer and handed him a cup of coffee.
“Aren’t you supposed to be presenting the case too?”
“No, Hotch wanted to do it himself.”
The two set their cups of coffee down at the same time and their hands brushed against one another.
“You’re comforting.” Spencer thought out loud.
Derek didn’t respond. He just took it in and they both faced away from each other, hiding the smiles from the other’s eyes and savouring the moment.
Hotch’s profile wasn’t all that detailed, but it was early in the case anyways. The unsub would have either no mother figure or a distant one, and the father would be abusive in some way or another. His estimated age range was 25-30 and he would likely have learned his behavior from someone close, possibly the same father that abused him. He would rarely go in public and when he did he wouldn’t talk to anyone unless he had to. He likely wasn’t someone everyone knew and would isolate himself in most situations.
Most of the details floated out of Derek’s head as Hotch spoke as he had already heard the profile once and his mind was already clouded with Spencer’s words. When the presentation was finished Derek walked with Rossi to Penelope’s office to see if she had any new findings.
“He’s kind of a pretty boy, isn't he?” Derek said.
“Who?
“Spencer.”
“Yeah, something like that.” Rossi gave a knowing smile as they walked into Penelope’s office.
TAGLIST: @heavenlydevil @hotpotatowoman @party-poisxn @endingsbeginnings @d3pr3ss3d-w33d-wh0re @ted-theodore-preston​ @moss0ntherocks​ @scandinavian-punk​ @doctorenby​ @penemily​ @izzyl13​ @leomo0n​ @tiedyedrose1705​ 
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babyybitchhhwrites · 4 years
Text
Shikaku x Reader 18+
Tumblr media
Title: Bound 
Words: 6110
Rating:  Explicit/R-18+
Warnings: Cheating,extramarital affairs, older man/younger woman, boss/employee relationship, light bondage, oral sex, office sex
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721392
♥♥♥♥
Shikaku was halfway through the door with a neat stack of papers under his arm and a steaming mug in hand when he looked up and saw you sitting on his desk. He gave the faintest jolt of surprise, catching himself just a moment too late to stop the impulse altogether. The quiet splatter of coffee hitting the hardwood floor resounded off the walls, making you smile, and he pinned you with an unamused scowl in response. 
“Should I even ask what you’re doing here at this hour?” He grumped. 
You made a show of crossing your legs, one over the other with your knee propped skyward. His gaze didn’t so much as falter when it caused the hem of your skirt to ride higher up the plush swell of your thigh and you couldn’t help thinking that was very gentlemanly of him. 
“I’m sure it will please you to know I’m here for a very good reason.” You quipped, watching him maneuver around the spill. “Unless of course you don’t want to hear my report while it's still fresh in my mind.” 
“Still fresh, huh?” Humming distractedly, Shikaku crossed the room to stand in front of the desk where he methodically started depositing his items onto the smooth oak surface. Coffee first, in the exact same spot he always put it as evidenced by the barely noticeable water stain circles he discreetly covered up with the mug, and then his paperwork which he took the time to casually straighten before stepping around to the other side. 
It was as if you weren’t even sitting there, looking for all the world like a queen on her stately throne, and you twisted to peer over your shoulder when he stooped to pull out some napkins from a bottom drawer. He gave off the impression of a man comfortably alone when he shuffled back the way he’d just come to clean the mess you’d (inadvertently) caused which might have otherwise perturbed you but in this case, it didn’t. Not when he was the one pointedly acting like you didn’t even exist.
Taking the opportunity, you appreciatively studied Shikaku’s trim figure as he knelt to mop up the coffee before it could seep in and make the wood permanently sticky. He didn’t look like much of a threat at first glance but, to be fair, none of the Nara really did. It was no doubt a hard lesson many enemy nin have had to come to terms with in their final moments alive and you couldn’t say you envied them very much. This was the one person you’d never want to find yourself facing off against on the battlefield. 
Even someone as infamously horrible as Orochimaru was preferable to the Jounin commander. That shadow binding technique of his was bad enough on its own but, taking into consideration all the mind games he could torture you with before finally delivering the killiing blow, there was no way you’d ever willingly go up against him. Such hubris would have been the very definition of a fool's errand.  
He stood then, not quite snapping you out of your thoughtful haze all the way, and you numbly watched as he walked over to deposit the soggy napkins into a trash bin in the corner. Tracing his steps back to the door again, he pulled it shut and reached for the lock. Your brows quirked up at the click of the bolt echoing through the room. 
“If you’d wanted to give a fresh report,” Shikaku intoned, turning to face you again. “I think you would have swung by my office when you first returned from the mission. Not hours later.” 
You offered him a sheepish little grin, valiantly fighting down the swelling butterflies in your stomach. “You knew when I got back?” 
“There isn’t much in this village that escapes my notice. I’d suggest keeping that in mind.” 
The note of warning in his gruff voice did not fly under your radar but any bite it may have held seemed to dampen when you caught the roguish curve of his mouth. He was merely teasing you in his own peculiar way. It didn’t exactly seem light and playful unless you were intimately familiar with the man and you imagined not many people ever got to see this side of him - and if they did, his intentions were always undoubtedly misconstrued. Everyone seemed to be under the impression that Shikaku was a no nonsense hard ass but you knew better. 
Uncrossing your legs in favor of swinging them over the side of the desk, you cocked your head to one side when he moved to step across the room again. “So you didn’t ask the other Jounin to keep an eye on me then? Consider me hurt, commander.” 
He snorted a good natured laugh. “If I did ask them to keep tabs on you, it wouldn’t be for the reason you’re thinking. Nice try, though.”
You turned to watch your boss lower himself into the chair behind the desk, curiosity piqued. “What other reason could there possibly be, Shikaku-taicho?”
A sharp brow quirked in your direction at that question. “Do you want an alphabetized list or should I give it to you in ascending order? You’re trouble, sweetheart. You know that.”
Excited heat crept across your face before you could stop it. “You like it though.” 
“There are a lot of things in this world that I like,” Shikaku sighed, dropping his gaze to the topmost sheet of paper in the stack. “But I can’t say trouble is one of them.”
“Liar.” 
Dark, pinpoint eyes slowly lifted to meet your gaze. He regarded you for a long, contemplative moment before dropping the expenditure form he’d picked up back to the top of the pile. Reclining into the chair with a quiet creak, he brought his hands together and laced long, elegant fingers over his stomach. You held your breath and squeezed your thighs together in anticipation, waiting for the pin to drop. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman call me that before. Least of all one who’s half my age and working directly under me.” 
Pussy fluttering at the unmistakable suggestion, you drew a steadying breath. “I’d like to be under you right now.” 
A low chuckle rumbled up from deep within his chest. “What did I just tell you? Trouble.” 
“Is that permission to proceed?” 
Shikaku glanced at the stack of paperwork again and slowly shook his head. “As tempting as that is …” 
Pausing, he turned his head and sent a casually appraising look over the meat of your thighs. The plump swell of your ass perched on the edge of his desk. The fact he didn’t even try to conceal his interest made goosebumps erupt across your body and you attentively sat up a little straighter, showing him that he had your full attention. 
“As tempting as you are in that tight little skirt, which I’m sure you didn’t put on just to pay me a visit, I have a lot of work to finish up here. I do have to get home at some point, you know.” 
A tinge of jealousy flashed through you, smothering your arousal by some margin. “Is your wife expecting you?” 
He nodded almost imperceptibly. “I promised I’d help with Shikamaru tonight. He’s got an ear infection and if you thought he was whiny with a clean bill of health, you’d want to tear your own hair out now. The kid hasn’t stopped crying since yesterday morning.” 
“Poor baby.” You cooed, faintly smiling at the thought of the pouty little boy that looked so much like his father. He had the same sharp features and smooth jaw structure that Shikaku did but Yoshino’s big, doe-like eyes. You wondered, not for the first time, what he would’ve looked like with yours. “I hope he makes a speedy recovery. You deserve to relax when you’re at home.” 
Shikaku laughed, very softly. “I’m sure you’d rather have me relaxing with you.” 
“I can’t deny that.” You admitted, sliding down off the desk to stand on your feet. “But it is what it is. You’ve got your obligations and I’ve got mine. Nothing we can do about it now.” 
“And what obligations do you have?” He chortled. 
You spun around to face him, allowing a sly smirk to play at your lips as you rounded the corner of the desk. “I’ve got plenty and I’ll have you know they’re all very important.”
“Would you care to humor me with an example then?” 
Leaning down, you gripped the stiff armrest and used it as leverage to swivel him around to face you. Shikaku permitted it, unsurprisingly. He looked more curious than anything else and when you placed your palms on his bent knees, his expression shifted towards wry amusement. 
“If you’re trying to persuade me into giving you what you want, it’s not going to work. I made a promise.” 
“I know.” You murmured, trying to pretend like the ache in your chest was imagined and not real. There was nothing you wouldn’t give the man sitting before you though, even if it meant ignoring your own feelings, and you slowly lowered yourself to kneel on the floor between his legs. “All I want is to help you however I can, Shikaku. You can still do your paperwork while I do this, can’t you?” 
You could clearly see the war waging behind his eyes. It wasn’t hard to miss. He was sifting through an assortment of conflicting emotions, torn between his commitment to an arranged marriage you suspected he’d never wanted in the first place and what his heart yearned for. There was a family at home waiting for him; a toddler he’d give his own life for in a heartbeat and a wife he’d do the same for because duty demanded it. And then there was you. Right in front of him, ready and waiting. Willing to give him whatever he might ask of you without expecting anything in return except some of his time. 
It wasn’t exactly fair to him, making him choose like this. But it wasn’t fair to you either. Maybe you should have never gotten involved with a married man like Shikaku in the first place but it was much too late for that now. You were just as aware of that as he was. 
The moment his resolve weakened and crumbled flashed across his ruggedly handsome face like a neon sign, as clear as day, and you knew you’d won. Maybe not the war, but this battle at least was yours. 
Licking your lips, you reached up to fumble with the front of his pants. Button first, zipper second. It’s slow descending zrrrt made molten heat pool in your gut, and you squirmed in eager excitement when he shifted in the chair to help you slide them along with his underwear a quarter of the way down his hips. They were lean and trim; tantalizingly firm under your palm when you reached up to brace one hand on the smooth expanse of skin while the other pushed at the bulk of his Jounin vest to bunch it around his middle. 
Shikaku’s cock twitched in the open air and stirred. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, just a shade darker than the rest of his warm complexion and so torturously inviting it took everything you had not to swallow him down your throat right then and there. But you weren’t keen on rushing this, not when it meant prolonging your time together just that much more. Instead, you leaned forward to nuzzle the stiffening length and take a deep, savory breath of his scent. Clean and musky with a faint curling note of salty sweat that made your pussy ache for him. 
“Little minx.” 
Roving your attention up, you peered into his expression. The ready arousal you saw staring back at you prompted a smile to curl your lips even as you rubbed your cheek against his growing erection like a cat marking its territory. Shikaku was unlike any other man you’d ever known. Those sharp features and jagged scars, the perpetually grumpy draw of his brows, the well groomed beard and frown lines. He was unfairly good looking in any setting no matter how mundane, but he was exceptionally attractive like this when he allowed himself to relax and give in to pleasure. The uncontested aura of authority that seemed to permeate the air around him only became more pronounced when you were kneeling at his feet like this, igniting a deep seated need in your subconscious to submit to him. There was no question who was really in charge here. 
“You like it.” You said again, pressing a brief kiss to the shaft. 
Shikaku reached down and buried one of his hands in your hair. “Yes, I do.” 
Humming faintly when he curled his fingers against your scalp, you slipped your tongue out to take a tentative kitten lick at the thick vein on the underside. The silky smooth texture of him coupled with the faintest bitter tang went straight to your pussy and you let out a soft sigh. Shikaku relaxed further into the chair, tipping his head back to rest against the backrest. His fingers stayed locked where they were but he didn’t try to tug you into action while you took your time peppering the length of his cock in fleeting butterfly kisses, pausing here or there to mouth at him. He also didn’t make a move to turn his attention back to the paperwork laid out before him though and you considered that another small victory. The longer he focused on you, the longer you’d get to stay with him. 
You licked your lips and nuzzled into the wiry thatch of hair at the base of his groin, inhaling another deep whiff of Shikaku’s masculine scent. It was dizzyingly erotic to you, the very smell of him igniting flames deep within the pit of your gut. You couldn’t get enough of him. The need to taste every inch of the commander's flesh was as overpowering as it was urgent, your breath coming a little faster as you pecked your way down to his balls. 
Pubic fuzz gave way to yet more impossibly soft skin and you just barely caught the quiet exhale he issued when you flicked the left teste with your tongue. Lifting your eyes, you looked past the now straining erection jutting proudly up at the ceiling and higher still until you could lock eyes with him. Shikaku was watching you with a silent sort of anticipation that made your heart flutter. He was so handsome. 
“I love your cock.” You murmured against his ball sack. 
“Do you now?”
Smiling, you lifted your hand to wrap your fingers around the hard girth, lightly clasping and stroking him in taunting slow motion. He didn’t seem to mind and merely readjusted his grip on your hair. Still just holding on to you. A silent reminder that he could all too easily take the reins if he felt so inclined. It was heady and intoxicating, just like the smell of him. You idly wondered if Yoshino was even aware how lucky she was to have him before quickly smothering the thought. This was not the time to dwell on such an unpleasant topic and, suppressing a disconcerted shudder, you opened your lips wide to suck the right teste into your mouth. 
A low hiss filtered through the room, cut short. 
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you …” He said quietly. 
You spent a prolonged moment massaging the weight of his ball with your tongue, rolling it back and forth and suckling at the globular flesh. Shikaku was a mouthful and when you pulled off him a moment later with an accompanying dull pop, a glistening string of spittle followed. The wrinkled flesh shone wetly in the overhead light as you sat back on your haunches to look up at him. Still slowly pumping his cock. Mouth flushed and clinging to the cobwebs connecting you to his body. Eyes shining in lust and coy adoration alike. 
“You could fuck me.”
Shikaku took one look at you and promptly groaned. “Get up.” 
You blinked. “What?”
“Up.” He said again, gesturing you to your feet. 
Confusion settled in but you acquiesced. He reached forward and hooked his hands under your armpits as you rose, barely giving you enough time to steady yourself before hauling you up to stand. Shikaku followed, his pants rustling softly when they shifted further down his bare thighs. His hold tightened and lifted, plopping you down on the edge of his desk without a word of explanation. 
You started to get the picture when he gathered up his neat stack of papers and deposited them into his now vacant chair though. Smiling slyly, you licked your lips and watched Shikaku pluck the coffee mug from the desk, turning to deposit it somewhere else. His office was the very definition of minimalist though so he had to settle with placing it on the floor near the wall where it would be out of the way.
He turned back to you and shuffled close again, his hard cock bouncing with each step. “Lie down.” He rumbled, stooping to shove his pants and underwear down to his ankles.
“Oooh, what are you going to do to me, commander?” You purred and obediently drew your legs up. With a twist of your butt, you reclined back on top of the desk and stretched your arms above your head in a coquettish display that you hoped he’d find too tantalizing to resist. 
To your delight, Shikaku allowed himself a brief moment to appreciatively drag his gaze across your body. You didn’t miss that he paused on your chest and again on the swell of your thighs. And then, so abruptly it actually caught you off guard, he smirked. 
An icy chill ran through you but before you could even think to question him, he lifted his hands and brought them together at chest level. The signs he weaved went by in a blur and you just barely recognized them for what they were seconds before serpentine like shadows erupted out from under the desk. One wrapped itself around your wrists and effectively bound them together while two more latched onto your ankles and pulled. You yelped in surprise, instinctively struggling against the ironlike shackles, but you were altogether helpless to stop it as they stretched you out spread eagle on the desk. Your face burned with something not entirely dissatisfied when you realized what he was doing.
“S - Shikaku-taicho!” 
“There, don’t you look pretty like that?” He said lightly, clearly pleased as he dropped the hand signs used to invoke the frightening jutsu. The shadows stayed though, a testament to his mastery of the clans formidable technique, and you sucked in a sharp breath when he reached out to brush your cheek with the backs of his knuckles. 
“That’s not fair …” You whined, trying in vain to arch up off the desk. 
He cocked a taunting brow. “It’s not? But you look so good like this, sweetheart.” With a simple twist of his wrist, Shikaku’s thumb found your lips and you readily opened your mouth. The calloused digit slipped past your teeth, finding your tongue and tenderly caressing the flat of it with light circles. “Perfectly ripe and all mine for the taking. I thought you’d be happy about this. Aren’t you getting what you wanted?” 
You responded with an enthusiastic suck on his thumb, undulating your tongue to bathe the rough pad of his finger in attention. The corner of his mouth hitched in amusement, a fond glint in his dark eyes. 
“Spoiled.” Shikaku murmured, drawing his gaze lower.
He set his sights on your top first and, with a few tugs, the material came loose for him. You moaned softly around the finger in your mouth, trying to tuck your chin down to see what he was doing but it was no use. The shadows had you pulled so taut that there was no wriggle room to work with and all you could do was lie there, feeling the cool air lap at exposed skin and listening to the quiet rustle of fabric. 
Taking his time, Shikaku traced the lacy cups of your bra and teased over your nipples. He was doing it on purpose and you groaned when they started to pebble and peak under the stimulation. Your breath came even quicker some moments later when he finally zeroed in on the front clasp you’d hoped would come in handy but you honestly hadn’t expected that wish to come to fruition quite this way. He’d never used his jutsu on you before.
“Very nice choice for tonight.” 
Flicking the little latch open, he reverentially pushed the cups aside and you trembled when your nipples instantly puckered in the open room. You shifted, trying once again to free yourself of the shadows hold, but it was no use. They were as solid as flesh and bone, and ten times stronger than any normal man. You were completely at his mercy like this and you keened around the thumb in your mouth when he lightly took one of the stiff nubs between his fingers. 
Carefully tweaking it to the point of the near discomfort, Shikaku only switched to the other once you started to whimper at the friction. He repeated the process and then switched back to the first. Over and over again until you were twisting in high strung agony. Your pussy was soaked and you could hardly think straight anymore but he seemed content to gag you with his finger for the foreseeable future. The spit pooling in the back of your throat threatened to choke you and you forcibly swallowed, reveling in the low sound of approval he issued in response. 
You squirmed when he released your straining nipple, bracing for him to attack the other in similar fashion, only to go ramrod stiff when he reached further down instead. Breath catching, you wiggled your hips and strained against the jutsu, wanting to jut your cunt up to meet him halfway. Shikaku merely smoothed the rough palm of his hand down your thigh though, pausing to squeeze the doughy soft flesh before sliding back up. His hand slipped under your skirt now, fingertips dancing along the hem of your panties to make your pussy clamp down on nothing in sporadic pulses. 
“Pleese …”
“Hm?” Turning his face towards yours, Shikaku fixed you with an infuriatingly innocent look. “What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me.”
Screwing your eyes shut, you bucked into his hand with a softly keening moan. He laughed in response, the sound so breathy and dark that it had you clenching all over again. A soft whimper bubbled to life in your throat and you tossed your head against the desk, trying not to think about how close he was to touching your sopping wet pussy. You couldn’t take much more of this. 
“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
You opened your eyes just enough to pin him with a flat look. 
Another deep, masculine chuckle rumbled out of him and, keeping his attention on your face, Shikaku curled his fingers inward to tease the apex of your slit. The fleetingly brief contact had you going ramrod stiff with a subdued jolt. Your lashes fluttered and you groaned around his finger, twitching when he pushed directly on that sensitive pleasure button to rub it teasingly slow. White hot static lit up throughout your lower body, making your pussy flutter eagerly at the friction. It was so easy to lose yourself under Shikaku’s ever watchful eye, especially since he seemed to know your body like the back of his own hand. Every erogenous zone, every embarrassingly receptive pressure point, what speed and amount of force he needed to exert. He had it all mapped out and there was nothing you could do to stop the steadily building pressure even if you’d wanted to. 
“Nngha …!”
“There.” He said in such a hushed tone you almost missed it. “How does that feel?”
You offered a halted nod of your head, basking in the sensation. 
“Good. Now finish what you started.” 
The thumb in your mouth pulled, hooking into the inside of your cheek, and you obediently turned your head under Shikaku’s guidance. He shuffled a little closer then, leaving his arm stretched down the length of your body so he could continue massaging your slick cunt while he nudged his cock towards your mouth. You swallowed hard at the sharp bolt of arousal that shot through you as you struggled to crane your neck around and catch the head of him between your lips. The salty bitterness of precum overwhelmed your tongue in an instant and you groaned, eyes rolling in carnal bliss. 
“Good girl … just like that.” 
Closing your eyes, you twisted your upper body so you could take more of him into your mouth. It was a crowded fit with his thumb still hooked in your cheek, not to mention an uncomfortable stretch for your neck, but you were hardly in any position to complain. He was absolutely right. You were getting exactly what you’d wanted and you couldn’t have been any happier about that.
Your pussy clenched eagerly as you bobbed your head forward and pulled him in as deep as you could. A soft whine clawed at your throat when you realized you could only make it about half of the way down his shaft before the shadows binding your arms halted your progress. There wasn’t enough leverage for you to lean in and swallow him straight down to the base like you wanted but something about having to work for it lit up a competitive spark within your chest. If Shikaku wanted to test you in this fashion then so be it. You would certainly make every attempt to rise to the occasion, at least. 
“Nngh …” He groaned quietly when you sealed your lips around him and noisily slurped. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. You like sucking on my cock, don’t you?” 
Awkwardly nodding, you strained to take another inch or so and it was almost enough to have him tickling your tonsils. You swallowed hard, hips twitching under the steady ministrations of his fingers as you lifted your tongue to lav the underside of him in attention. Tracing the thick vein upward, you swirled it around the glans and prodded his slit. More bitter pre cum oozed out, rewarding you for your efforts, and you moaned at the taste of him. That alone could send you into a wild frenzy, like an animal mindlessly desperate for release, but his cursed shadows hadn’t let up at all. Shikaku was a formidable opponent indeed.
“Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see those pretty eyes.”
Obediently, you slid your gaze up to meet his and a fresh wave of arousal washed over you. With his brows drawn in concentration and his lips parted on a quiet exhale, the Jounin commander was the very definition of testosterone fueled desire. Not only did he enjoy playing this game but he wanted you. Not any of the other shinobi working under his command nor any of the civilian women. Not the wife he had waiting for him at home. No one else. Just you. 
Sucking in a sharp breath through your nose, you arched on top of the desk fervently enough to make your spine pop. It served its purpose though and you weakly canted your pelvis against his hand, as much as the unforgiving shadows would allow. Shikaku grunted softly in response and pushed down on your clit a little harder, rubbing you a little faster. The sharp friction had the muscles in your thighs jumping as you squirmed, struggling to keep your eyes open and locked on his face. Every nerve ending in your body was starting to vibrate with the building pressure in your loins, promising the inevitable absolution of release. You were getting close. 
He seemed to realize it at the same time you did though and his fingers retreated, much to your groaning disappointment. Shikaku gave the inside of your cheek a chiding tug to keep you focused on the task at hand and you shuddered when he unceremoniously flipped your skirt up. You issued a wet, faltering groan as the rough pads of his fingers danced across your lower belly before slipping into the band of your underwear. Digits curling, seeking, he dipped his pointer finger between the meat of your labia and reached further back to prod your entrance with a satisfied growl.
“So wet for me … do you like being on the receiving end of my technique that much, sweetheart? Hm?”
You flexed your limbs and moaned in response, feeling the slick trail of saliva oozing from the corner of your mouth to pool under your cheek. It was rapidly cooling in the air and a tremor raced through you when he smeared the sticky arousal gushing from your entrance up to your clit. Using it as a surprisingly effective lubricant, Shikaku started grinding tight circles around the sensitive nub with just enough force to leave you shaking like a leaf under his attention. Your breath caught and you went ramrod stiff, uselessly trying to brace yourself against the staggering pressure. His attack on your body was a concerted and precise one though and you finally had no choice but to toss your head back and suck in a much needed lungful of air. 
“Aahh - aaahhhnn! Sh - Shika -”
The thumb in your mouth abruptly retreated so he could put the flat of his palm on the back of your head and push you down onto his cock again with an accompanying gurgle on your part. “I didn’t say you could stop, did I?” He rumbled in a voice noticeably thicker than usual. 
Toes flexing, you forced your jaw to relax when he pushed his hips forward and Shikaku’s hard length surged towards the back of your throat. The spit running down the side of your face became thicker, bubbling out around him while he paused long enough to find a satisfying rhythm on your clit before pulling back. His first real thrust into your mouth was slow and borderline sensual, almost as if he were making love to you, but the pace quickly picked up. In and out, in and out until he was well and truly fucking into you, the obscene gargling sounds coming from the depths of your salivating mouth ringing loud in the otherwise silent room.
It was all you could do just to keep breathing through your nose as you reeled under the intense onslaught of stimulation. Your pussy throbbed in warning and you keened, eyes rolling into the back of your head. The calloused pads of his fingers were as delightful as they were torturous on your petal soft inner folds and it didn’t take long at all for the friction to become unbearable. You were going to cum. The pressure was reaching the tipping point and the heavy weight of his hand on your skull, the driving force of his cock jabbing towards your constricting throat only heightened the tingling shockwaves of ecstasy. You were going to cum and Shikaku knew that. 
“Let it go, baby.” He gritted out. “Keep my cock in your mouth and cum.”
You tensed at his command, straining so hard against the shadows on your wrists and ankles that your muscles started to ache in protest. It was much too late though and you shattered with a strangled shriek, screwing your eyes shut as you tried to pull back. He kept you right where you were though, his palm pressed flush against your head and his fingers rubbing your spasming cunt in quick, jerky swipes. You jolted on top of the desk, letting the crashing waves of euphoria swallow you up, and unabashedly wailed around the cock thrusting into your mouth. 
“Shit. That’s it. Keep cumming. You want to swallow my load, don’t you?”
The breathy lilt to Shikaku’s rough voice added onto the palpable memory of him shooting thick ropes down your throat made you shudder so violently that your first orgasm bled seamlessly into another. It hit you like a sack of bricks, threatening to bowl you right over as you twisted and writhed as much as his jutsu would permit. High strung tears pricked your lash line, every muscle in your body singing in rapture when he refused to let up the grinding pressure on your clit. He was milking the pleasure out of you the way only he was capable of and you let out a muffled, wordless cry of distress as his hips began to stutter. 
“Here it comes, baby. Get ready.” He seethed through gritted teeth, clutching the back of your head so tight his hand started to shake. 
A few more faltering thrusts was all it took for him to tip over the edge and his cock jerked against your tongue with the first splurt of salty, bitter semen. It hit the roof of your mouth, making you jolt, and a second and then a third pooled at the back of your throat, threatening to choke you. The final bit of creamy discharge oozed out of his pulsing cock to mix with the goopy mess coating your palette and you groaned, basking in the heady flavor of him. It was enough to damn near send you into another fit of convulsions. 
Heaving a satisfied sigh, Shikaku carefully withdrew his flagging cock and lifted the hand from between your legs to gently tilt your chin up at him. “Open.” He huffed, absently caressing the side of your face with his long fingers. 
You obeyed, sticking your tongue out for good measure to show him the white clumps sitting hot and heavy in your mouth. He smiled, very softly, and pushed up on your jaw. 
“Good girl. Now swallow.”
Pulling your swollen lips in a pout, you made a playful show of tilting your head back and choking it all down. You could feel the moment it hit your stomach, an intimate flutter sparking inside your chest. It was hard not to imagine it a little lower, deep in your womb where it could take root and grow into another child. Another Nara. 
That was a dangerous train of thought though and you kept silent when he let up on the chakra feeding into the shadows so that they dissipated, slinking back under the desk where they belonged. Gingerly bringing your arms down to stretch them out, you cautiously peered up at him. Shikaku was watching you with a concealed look of consideration and then, to your surprise, he reached out to softly take your wrist in his hand. 
“Did I hurt you?” 
“No.” You said truthfully, trying not to smile. “You know you didn’t.” 
The corner of his mouth hitched in amusement as he rolled his thumb over the bone to work out the ache he knew you were feeling. “It never hurts to ask though. I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I caused you any harm, even unintentionally.” Bringing your hand up to his face, Shikaku pressed a brief kiss to your palm. “I’m sorry but I need to head home now, sweetheart.” 
“But your paperwork -”
“I’ll take it with me.” He said with a lax shrug as he helped you sit up on the desk. “I probably won’t be getting much sleep anyway. Shikamaru can help me with it while he’s up half the night fussing.” 
You frowned, a tinge of regret putting a damper on your comfortable afterglow as you looked down at your lap. The thought that you were being selfish earlier despite your claim to the contrary flashed through your mind and then camped there, almost making you wish you’d just left it alone. But then Shikaku brought both hands up and cradled your cheeks between his palms so he could lift your attention back to his smiling face. 
“Don’t look so putout. I don’t mind. Really.” Leaning close, he pressed his mouth to your forehead in an affectionate, lingering gesture. “I’ll make it up to you though. How does lunch tomorrow sound?”
Suppressing an excited, tittering giggle, you pinned him with a pleased grin. “Sounds like a date, commander. I can’t wait.” 
“Neither can I.”
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magicalleprechaun · 4 years
Text
Thanks, Fri
Read on AO3
Since hanging out at the tower and unofficially living there, Peter learned that Friday was always right and always reliable. She could answer his questions. Always. No matter what it was. Peter trusted her with his life.
“Friday, why are my spidey senses going off?”
“A probable cause would be that Mr. Barton has entered the ventilation system above you, which was not designed nor has the structural integrity to hold his weight. I estimate that the ceiling will collapse in three minutes.”
Peter left the room and heard the crash of the vents falling exactly three minutes later. He timed it. Peter smiled. “Thanks, Fri.”
“Hey Friday, is something dangerous happening?”
“In the testing room of the developmental labs two floors down, there has been an abnormally large explosion. No serious danger has been detected as the danger was contained. Is this what you detected as dangerous?”
“Yeah, Fri. Thanks.
It’s not that Peter thought the world was gonna end every time his senses went off. He had more common sense than that. But he worried sometimes when it went off, and knowing everything was okay let him sit a little easier.
“Fri, what set off my senses?”
“That may have been the additional security on floor 72. One of the new PR interns set off a security alarm accidentally, and guards from surrounding floors converged on the area.”
“Everything’s good though, right?”
“Yes, nothing of note has occurred.”
“Good. You’re the best, Fri.”
“If you would be so kind, remind Boss of this fact.”
Honestly, sometimes his senses were so faint, he was just plain curious. Friday was a nice way to just get the curiosity out of his system so he could focus.
“Is something happening, Friday?”
“Miss Romanoff is working boxing in the training room. She appears to be exerting more force than usual.”
“Is she okay?”
“She does not appear severely distressed, though she did attend a confidential meeting including Secretary Ross.”
Peter felt a little bad about forgetting to thank Friday on the way to the training room, but he figured she’d understand.
“Fri, what’s happening?”
“Boss has made a false prediction about the maximum output of his new repulsor and has set a car on fire. It is currently being put out.”
“What was the maximum output?” Peter asked, curiosity piqued.
“267% of the output of his last repulsor design.”
“How’d he do that without being flown backwards? Or melting the glove?”
“The former answer is that he didn’t. I have ordered a new desk for him. The latter you will need to ask yourself.”
Peter laughed and stood from the couch. “Thanks Fri!” He chimed as he ran to the elevator.
“How are we doing Friday?”
“There are no dangerous situations nearby, if you are referring to your senses. My guess would be that they were set off as Mr. Rogers entered the building.”
“Thanks Friday,” Peter said as he left the common area and hid in his bedroom. He figured now wasn’t a good time to meet, with the tension between Steve and Tony. (Steve, Sam, and Bucky started to hang around the tower after that. Peter wasn’t sure when they moved in, but he’s almost certain they live in the tower now. His spider sense stopped going off when he found them competing for 10th place in MarioKart.)
Peter swore Friday could read his mind. He could ask the vaguest question and she would know what he meant.
“Friday, what’s up?”
“Mr. Rogers forgot that metal cannot be microwaved. Mr. Wilson is handling the situation.”
“Thanks Fri. That’s awesome,” Peter snorted.
“Give me the tea, Friday,”
“Mr. Wilson has found the web shooters that you left on the kitchen table last night. He has since proceeded to web himself, Mr. Barnes, and Boss to the wall. I also estimate that seventy four percent of the room has been covered in your webs.”
Peter laughed.
“Boss has also asked that you bring your web dissolving solution to the common area.”
If Peter brought the slow working web dissolved, sue him. He wanted time to take pictures.
“What’s up Friday?”
“Lightning from the storm has hit the building, though all energy from the storm is being stored in batteries and poses no danger.”
“Thanks Fri. You’re the best.”
“What’s up, Fri?”
No answer. Peter was pretty sure he felt his spider sense kick up a notch. Or maybe it was the anxiety of knowing Friday wasn’t watching his back. Who knows?
“Fri?” He called out again. Still no answer.
“Tony!” Peter called, his spider sense racketing up again. He ran from his bedroom to find Tony.
He wasn’t in his bedroom, which freaked Peter out more than he knew it should have. It’s not like Tony was in his bedroom often. But still, it was one place Tony wasn’t during an emergency.
Peter races to the elecator, trying not to freak out because it was the first place he looked and Tony could be anywhere in the tower and fine.
Peter glanced out of the elevator and decided that Tony wasn’t in the common room either.
So he had to bye in the lab or in his office. Because those were the only two options. Nothing else was acceptable. It couldn’t happen, not again.
No. No freaking out until he knew something was wrong. Everything could be completely fine and Tony was just updating Friday and that was why she was offline and his spider sense just went off because he got anxious.
The elevator opened silently to the lab and Peter took in the situation in front of him. Three men in black had their backs turned to him. He couldn’t see any guns but he could guess that they were big by the way the men held their weight. Not exactly great. And all three guns were pointed at Tony. Tony, who had his hands up. Tony, who wasn’t fighting back. Tony, who didn’t have his fucking armor because Friday was down and he was completely exposed. Shit.
Tony made eye contact for the briefest second before looking back at the gunmen. His face never gave anything away, but Peter could hear him take fuller breaths, and could see his hands relax in the slightest. And it really shouldn’t be hitting Peter now that Tony trusted him to not screw it all up. That Tony trusted him with his life.
While making a quick plan, Peter was suddenly very thankful for a lot of things:
The gunmen had cornered Tony and hadn't had a lookout, so they didn’t see Peter.
Natasha worked with him on stealth just a few days ago.
Peter’s last project had been webfluid.
His desk was closer to the elevator than Tony’s.
He stalked over to his desk where his webshooters laid on the table, already filled with high-strength webs that he was working on yesterday. He strapped them to his wrists and, as a last minute decision, Peter snatched an Iron Man helmet that laid on a shelf to cover his face. He caught Tony’s small smirk at that.
It didn’t take long for Peter to web up the guys. He thinks they only had training in intimidation because they just kind of stood there and didn’t put up any fight. Eventually, they were escorted out by SHIELD, and Peter and Tony relocated to the common area soon after that.
(As soon as they were alone, Tony doubled over laughing.Honestly, Peter was concerned he was going to fall over as he gasped out something about “zombie Iron Man”. Apparently Peter didn’t realize that the Iron Man helmet he put on to save his identity had been tinkered with, and half of the outside casing had been removed, so Peter looked undead. Tony had Friday play the recording of the horror on the men’s faces, and Peter caught one of them muttering “They’ve come alive to kill us all.”)
“Fri, what’s happening?”
“Nothing of interest is taking place in the tower, though your blood sugar is abnormally low, probably due to the fact that you have not eaten since your patrol 4 hours ago. You are currently at high risk for fainting, and I recommend eating something.”
Peter made sure he got up slowly when he got a snack. “Thanks Fri.”
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