Once again, so sorry it's been so long since an update! Things have been super busy and I'm finally getting more time to work on this fic. Last update was a very fluffy one, so of course this chapter balances it out with some angst, starting with one of the various arguments our favorite couple has at the start of the game… (fair warning: this chapter is quite a bit dirtier than the other ones)

"You bastard." Amanda shoved him away from her and tried to push her way past him but he stopped her before she could go upstairs.

Michael frowned at her, more out of confusion than anything. "I don't get why you're so pissed at me."

She scoffed. "Don't act so fucking innocent. You think I don't look at our bank statements? That I don't see all of those charges to those strip clubs and hotels?"

"I'm sorry, our bank statements?" he asked harshly.

"Yeah, our bank statements, you selfish shit! Oh, sorry, I must've forgot that you're so protective of your blood money!" she yelled, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"Well, I didn't know that you had started earning money! I do gotta say, though, stripping is a young girls game…" he smirked at her cruelly.

"Fuck you, Michael! So is bank robbery! And stop trying to change the subject."

He started getting angry himself. "Shouldn't you be glad that I'm keeping it out of the house? That I don't bang them in our bed like you do? Or are you the only one who's allowed to fuck other people?"

"We both know that I was faithful to you until I found you in a stripper," she snapped.

"It was a nice fucking vacation from you yelling at me! Please, forgive me for when I needed break from all of your complaining!" he said sarcastically.

"Complaining?! Are you talking about all of those times where I told you 'Michael, please stop drinking yourself to death'? Or maybe it was when I kept saying 'Michael, please stop ignoring me and the kids'?" Michael just rolled his eyes as if he'd heard this a million times before, lengthening her rant. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, you ass. God...why did I marry you?"

"Because you were knocked up and I was naive?" he instantly shot back.

"At least we were happy! Now all of us are miserable because of you!"

"I don't get why the hell you're so unhappy! I gave you everything, a big mansion in the hills, all of the money you could ask for, everything you want, and I don't even get a fucking 'thank you'-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Amanda slapped him, her fingers biting into his cheek. He took a step back in shock, rubbing at the stinging red handprint on his face. She almost looked sorry, but most of all, looked like she wanted to do it again. "I left everything behind in North Yankton to come here with you because all I've ever wanted was you, you fucking asshole! Since that's apparently not enough for you: thank you, Michael, for ruining our lives!"

She reached up to try and hit him again, but he grabbed her, holding her wrist firmly in place. "You don't want to see what happens if you try that again," Michael warned her.

"You are a lot of things, Michael, but you are not a wife beater," she hissed.

His grip on her tightened, fingers wrapping around her wrist so tightly that she could barely feel it. His steely blue eyes stared into hers, filled with hate, rage, and want. Suddenly, he released her hand. "You're right. I'm not," he said before he roughly grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. To both of their surprise, she didn't pull away and instead quickly slipped her tongue into his mouth.

Without breaking the kiss, Michael picked her up by the thighs and pinned her against the wall so hard that she knew she'd have bruises.

So, it's gonna be like this, huh? she mused at his aggressiveness, smirking before biting down on his lip, not stopping until she could taste his blood and feel his groan of pain against her mouth.

He finally broke the kiss, breathing heavily. He was a mess, from the strands of his hair falling into his face, to the pink parallel lines from where her manicured nails had dug into his face, to the small beads of blood glistening on his lips. But he still gave her that same damn smile as he wiped away the blood.

"I fucking hate you," she said suddenly.

Michael just laughed as he started to put his hand down her pants. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do-" she started to protest before a sharp gasp escaped her lips as his hand carelessly pushed her underwear aside and started to rub against her. Encouraged by the unspoken challenge, he started slipping a couple fingers inside of her.

"No, you don't," he mocked smugly when he felt the wetness against his hand.

Amanda could only manage a half-hearted glare at him.

"No lie? That's fine…" he muttered, starting to press kisses against the side of her neck. His teeth grazed against her as he sucked at her skin, knowing full well he'd give her a hickey. "Try and hide that from your fuckin' boy toys…"

It happened the same way it always did. They argued more, he teased her some more, but before long he gripped her thighs harder and carried her up the stairs. They both thanked whatever God that was looking after them that they didn't run into the kids during their little trip.

They shoved their way into the bedroom, starting to rip off clothes and shoes- Michael's suit jacket, Amanda's expensive heels that had been digging into his skin the whole damn time- on their way to the bed.

Finally, he had her pinned down against the mattress, a triumphant grin on his face. She should be mad, fucking furious that he was getting his way again. But all she could do was hook her fingers through the belt loops of his pants and pull him closer.

"Looks like you still want your 'pathetic' husband, huh?" he asked, cockiness radiating off of him as he quickly took off her shirt and pants. His fingers played with the straps of her bra, tugging them off her shoulders as he waited for her response.

"Fuck you, Michael," she spat out weakly. She unbuttoned his shirt with shaky hands and tossed it aside to where the rest of their clothes were.

"Oh, I know you want to," he laughed before he took off her underwear and put his head between her thighs. Amanda couldn't stop her moan when she felt his tongue against her skin, when she felt his fingers starting to pump inside of her. She raked her fingers through his hair, knowing how much he liked it. Sure enough, he picked up his pace just enough to get her to her climax. As she finished, she started gripping harder at his hair, tugging so roughly that it probably hurt him.

If it did, he didn't care. Michael just wiped his mouth and smirked at her as he waited for her to catch her breath. He had just started to unzip his pants when she had enough energy to slap at his hand.

"You're not having me that easily," she breathed out, reverting back to their playful back-and-forth.

"Oh, come on, Mandy…" Michael growled impatiently.

"I'm still not your doll to play with when you get bored and to be ignored after. You need to earn this. Show me that you're better than them, Michael. Show me, fuck me better than all of those other guys," she demanded, palming at his zipper to prove her point.

"Your wish is my command," he grinned down at her. For the first time in the day, he showed gentleness, using it only to push himself inside of her. He started rocking into her, smirking down at her when he heard her initial groan.

"Don't act so smug. We used to do this for hours when we were in our twenties…" she rolled her eyes indifferently, but the small moan that slipped out betrayed her.

Michael started going faster when she pulled him down to her and started dragging her mouth against his jawline and the rough stubble there. Amanda started whispering in his ear, about how her tennis coach could do it better, that he still wasn't deserving of her.

"How about now?" he grunted, not backing down.

"Better, but you still need to earn it. And how am I?" Amanda looked up at him through fluttered lashes, already knowing the answer.

"Still the goddamn best," he groaned.

"Good boy," she said, finding it harder to keep her voice steady as he started to bring her closer to the edge.

Michael, watchful as always, picked up on this, and started going with an even greater force. She was close, so close, and tried to make a snarky remark about it, something that would make him even more determined, but all that came out was a strangled, animalistic kind of gasp as she lost herself.

Through the sound of her moans filling the room, she didn't even notice Michael finish until he collapsed next to her, panting. "Fuckin' A…" he breathed out.

She pressed herself against him, humming in satisfaction. For the next few moments, it was silent, devoid of any arguing or fighting. In those few moments, they thought about the things that they were both too damn stubborn to say.

Like how she really didn't hate him, how she thought he was better than all of the other guys combined. Like how he wanted to say sorry, how he didn't enjoy any moment he'd had with that stripper, or any other girl, in fact. And how they wanted things to go back to normal, and that they wanted to fall in love again…

And how they'd fight again and end up right back where they were. Amanda scoffed, pushing the ridiculous dream aside, ignoring the gentle way that he held her, ignoring the way she felt safe in his arms and only looking up when he weakly smiled and said, "Still hate me?"

"Fuck off."

"I'll take that as a yes."