#and if i were to divulge into them i would actually never shut up

[mynqzo]

Why do you like vampires specifically, what do you like of them?

the sucking and fucking

[tqmies]

In Disguise

Description. Desperate and broke, your trio of nerdy friends offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Things are normal at first until you abruptly come across a camera tripod facing Doyoung's bed. Were your awkward friends really just camboy's in disguise?

Pairing. Kim Doyoung x Yuta Nakamoto x Kim Jungwoo x Fem Reader

Genre. SMUT, Camboy!AU, College!AU, Roomates! MDNI!

Warnings. Foursome (Do I even have to say it?), Unrealistic depictions of sex overall, A little MxM action, Fingering, Oral, Condoms taken off, Plan B mentioned, Voyeurism, Creampie, Degradation, Praise

Word count. 13K (oh...)

Note: This was supposed to be out ages ago but I'm proud (not rlly) to present this mess of a wet dream!

"You have no idea how grateful I really am." You state, placing down your last box into the vacant room. You sigh in relief as your back was literally killing you too much to drag another box up. And that was that the boys had helped you with a majority of it.

"You've said it a million times, I think we know." Yuta teases, opening the box on your bed as he shuffles through it. It was old books you had brought from your place, well a few of the tons you had. Most of them had to go into storage due to lack of room at your newest living arrangement.

Truthfully, you felt really bad about this whole thing, even though Yuta kept assuring you it was alright, all the boys did. But something felt terrible about rooming with your friends for free, and kicking Yuta out of his room at that.

The boys didn't want you to feel weird about sharing a room, so Yuta slept in the same room as Jungwoo for the time being, and that made you feel even worse.

"You can have your room back, I promise I can sleep on the couch."

"Then where would you put your stuff?"

And you had pretty much lost the argument then and there, but you were determined to make up for rent in other ways. You'd clean, do laundry, and cook a few of the meals you had mastered. You could buy groceries and maybe even pay the water bill every once in a while. Not that you planned to stay here for long, only until you found another job, seeing as the one you had rapidly started laying people off.

Which brought you back to square one, Yuta’s bed.

Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter!

"I'm home!" Jungwoo announces as you hear the front door shut, his loudness already alerting you. You heard the loud clank of his keys on the counter, and his footsteps making their way towards you.

"We just finished bringing all the boxes up." Doyoung comments, giving Jungwoo a much deserved side eye.

"Oh I made it just in time then."

Jungwoo came bearing gifts though, handing out bottles of water to you guys. "I got them from one of the tents on campus, here's a shirt too!"

And before you know it, you're being hit in the head with the shirt Jungwoo threw at your face. You throw it off as you jokingly threaten him. "I'm going to crack your glasses in half Kim Jungwoo."

The male cowers in fear as he scurries off to his room, shouting behind his shoulder. "Do you guys wanna see what I'm working on?"

Doyoung jumps up, always eager to divulge in Jungwoo's nerdy projects. "Sure."

"I'm designing a supersonic VTOL fighter jet!" The engineering major says, lugging his laptop towards you all, showing you some prints on his screen. They're blueprints and sketches, and random little notes on the side, but you really can barely tell what you're looking at.

It's not that you were dumb, you were actually a very decent student. But the men in the room with you? Jungwoo was a mechanical engineering major, which said enough. Yuta was pre-med studying to be a doctor, and Doyoung? He's here on a full ride scholarship studying computer science.

So, for lack of better words, you were the dumbest in the room.

Not that you cared anyways, the boys never made you feel less than or anything because of your simple major. You also took pride in it, sure you weren't designing future airplanes or developing software, but it was enough for you.

"Looks cool, but you should widen the wingspan, I see possible blockage through the-" Doyoung starts on with his commentary.

"Yuta! Do you want to help me start cooking?" You ask, the male seemingly uninterested in the plane, and you could relate. He nods and follows you to the kitchen, adjusting his frames.

After checking their fridge for ideas, you start filling a pot with water to boil some pasta in, directing Yuta to start chopping up some garlic. He follows directions well, as one would expect, and does as he's told.

"How did your mid-term go?" Yuta breaks the silence, referring to the grueling test he had helped you with.

"Fine, I got an 80." You reply, measuring out more pasta.

Yuta raises a brow as he places the knife down. "An 80? But we studied all week."

"Yeah but some of the questions were hard, I didn't remember." You say, and you were truly satisfied with your grade. Sure you had studied, but not everyone retained information as easily as your friends, and they were still having trouble learning that you weren't going to get a 100 points every time.

Yes the boys had extreme book smarts, but they lacked a little street smarts sometimes. They were less empathetic and more clear cut, but you knew they meant well. Though it didn't mean their lack of social cues hurt any less though.

Sometimes you wonder how you had even befriended them. Especially Doyoung, who was usually no nonsense and short worded on campus. But it could all be traced back to Jungwoo.

It was back in freshman year, and on your very first day of class. You had rushed in, confused to see that they had already started without you, which was weird seeing as your class wasn't supposed to be in session for another thirty minutes. You had just waved it off as an accident and sat down, right next to Jungwoo.

During a break, he had introduced himself and asked you if you were excited for Math 2414, and inquired about what your major was.

That was when you realized in horror that you were in Calculus, and not Pre-calculus. No wonder they had already begun, it was the wrong class! And you were not trying to take anything beyond what was required for your degree. "So this isn't pre-calculus?"

"No, I took that in high school! You didn't get that out of the way already?" He had asked, and just then did you realize what kind of person you were dealing with.

You had explained the situation to Jungwoo to which he was really understanding, offering to show you your actual classroom for your next class day. You had agreed, and then by some coincidence, you had run into Jungwoo a few days later. Catching up with him and mentioning you were having trouble with a certain concept already, to which he had offered his help.

You had started having sessions regularly, and Jungwoo had invited you to study with his group of friends, which is where you met the others.

Despite them being a little intimidated by you (And vice versa), you had all got along well, and you were thankful for that. Despite not having great social skills, they were actually a lot less complicated to deal with. They spent a majority of their time studying or doing school work, burying their noses in books. And if not? Then they're playing a computer game Doyoung designed, or testing if Jungwoo's rocket model could fly in the middle of a JCPenny parking lot.

They didn't have a lot of drama either, and you were sure they'd be simple enough to live with. Come to think of it, it's always been tidy whenever you've visited. Jungwoo's bed was always made and Doyoung's desk always clean. Yuta's was exceptionally organized too, even donning some expensive looking anime figures in displays on his shelf.

They were such nerds.

You snort to yourself as you pour the sauce onto the plates, food ready to be eaten. Funny enough, you hadn't even had to call the boys. Yuta had helped you but Doyoung and Jungwoo had hounded the kitchen counter and talked your ear off, both excited for a home cooked meal. Apparently, none of them could cook very well and they usually opted for take out, so this was a relief.

"You guys literally had all the ingredients already." You giggled as you sat down on the small table they had in their apartment.

Jungwoo shakes his head. "Doesn't matter if you don't know how to make anything out of them."

"Thank you by the way, this is really good." Doyoung nods, and by the way he scarfed down half of it already, you'd say he's telling the truth.

"Slow down, you'll choke." Yuta says concerned before his expression changes into a different one. "Wait, you should choke! I can finally practice my CPR on a real person!"

"Well if you haven't practiced on a human yet, I don't think I can trust you." Doyoung shoots him a glare.

"You're hindering my first-aid progression." Yuta narrows his eyes as he takes a bite of his food. The air grows quiet as you voice out what had been weighing on your mind.

"So, any plans for tonight?" You ask, wondering what you're going to get up to a Saturday night. You had a long week, especially since you had woken up on Monday to an eviction notice, so you'd say you could use some time out.

"Hm? Probably start looking over my lobotomy notes for my lecture next week." Yuta responds, earning a chorus of acknowledgment from the other males.

"O-okay, Doyoung?" You ask, but you think you can already guess too.

"I'm beta testing this program my friend just finished, probably'll take me all night." He speaks, attention on his food.

You deflate, looking towards Jungwoo. "Nice, and you?"

"Putting my blueprints into a 3D maker and drafting up a scale model of it." He says, and you take note of how he looks excited about it.

This was quite a turn from what you were used to, you had to remind yourself that these weren't your typical college guys. Yet, you could feel your left eye twitching slightly. "Guys! It's a Saturday night."

"Mhm?" Doyoung replies, his eyebrows furrowed, like the day didn't change anything.

You scoff, "So what, no frat parties? No bar hopping?"

You're met with blank looks, the men looking utterly confused as Jungwoo shakes his head, unfamiliar with both scenes. "No?"

You sigh, facing the fact that you're going out solo. You could probably text a few of your other classmates to meet up wherever you went.

"You guys do that, I'm gonna go get laid tonight." You shrug, getting up to put your dish in the sink. "Yuta you can sleep in your bed if you want."

"Wait- Where are you gonna go?" Jungwoo asks, following you to the kitchen with furrowed brows.

You shrug. "I don't know, maybe a club? Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. If I get home before morning then I'll just crash on the couch."

"If?!" Jungwoo's eyes widen at the prospect of you being out all night.

You place a hand on his shoulder. "I have a key, don't wait up."

And he stands there shocked, the other two watching as you head to your room to shower and change your outfit. You had a long night ahead of you.

Even afterwards, when you had stepped out in

You try your best to quietly open the front door, met with only pitch black darkness as you assume everyone was asleep. It was two in the morning, and in their defense, you did tell them not to wait up.

Slipping your heels off, you step quietly towards the couch. You peel your tight dress off and realize you have nothing to change into, and you weren't going to wake Yuta to just grab a shirt. Luckily for you, there was a blanket you could cover yourself with, so you discarded the bra as well, thankful that at least you had worn shorts under your dress tonight. You sigh as you lay down, head still spinning as you come down from earlier.

You had succeeded in your quest of getting laid, thoroughly being manhandled by a guy named Mingyu who went to a neighboring university. The sex was actually pretty decent, but it could've been better. You had wanted someone to bend you into a pretzel and fuck you until your legs were rendered useless for the next week. And he just couldn't provide that. Maybe you'd have to trust in your rainbow dildo from now on.

You brush the thoughts to the back of your mind as you finally find sleep, eyes fluttering shut.

You swear, it felt like you were asleep for all of two seconds when you hear the blaring alarm clock from one of the rooms. Followed by the sound of things being knocked over.

Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, hangover hitting you hard, but your eyes are drawn to frantic looking Yuta running around the apartment out of his room. He moves over a few things on the dining table quickly and you watching confusion.

"Where are they?" He mutters to himself, throwing some things in the kitchen around as well.

Sitting up, you rub your eyes as your vision adjusts. "What're you looking for?"

"Just my- Oh, where is your shirt? Why are you naked?" He rambles, covering his eyes as he turns around.

You hadn't even noticed that the blanket you used to cover yourself all night had slipped down, accidentally revealing at least part of your boobs to Yuta. "I slept like this because I didn't want to barge into your room to grab a shirt, sorry. I'll go do that now!"

You get up and scramble to the room, feeling so shitty at making Yuta uncomfortable. Opening the drawer, you slip on the first shirt that's there. You don't even look at it before you're rushing out and apologizing profusely to Yuta. "It's only my first morning here and I've already flashed you."

"Is that my shirt?" He asks, eyes wide and your look down to confirm that it was, in fact, Yuta's shirt.

"Oh! And I stole your shirt, I'll wash it and put it back! I really am sorry, I'm just so hungover right now." You hang your head in shame as the words slip out.

"No! No, really it's fine." Yuta dismisses as he waves his hands. "I found my keys so I have to go now, see you when I get back!"

And with that, he's out the door, face tinted red.

God, you were a fool! Sighing in defeat, you make your way to your room, slipping off the shirt and trading it out for one that was yours.

What you didn't know was that Yuta was still standing on the other side of the front door, mind reeling as he replays the mental image of your nipples peaking through the fabric of one of his shirts. He didn't think you'd be giving him this much trouble already! It was the first morning!

Back inside, you're gathering clothes to take a shower. Jungwoo opens the door to his room, unexpectedly rushing out as well, saying he had somewhere to be as he's unable to meet your eyes. You had no idea everyone would be so busy this morning. Was it usually like this? You shrug, too tired and ready to be met with steaming hot water as you bid him goodbye.

After your shower, you not surprised to see Doyoung up as well, sitting near the kitchen as he munches on a banana. You can see his computer in front of him displaying some kind of code, and he doesn't look like he got a wink of sleep. Did these boys ever take a break?

"Good morning Doyoung." You yawn, making a bee line for the coffee machine. You grab a K-Cup and try to figure your way around the machine as you fail to notice Doyoung's stare.

"Oh, Morning." Doyoung finally gives a greeting back, thankful that your back is facing him right now with the way the blood was rushing to his face. Now, Doyoung wouldn't say he was a pervert or anything, but he couldn't help the way his eyes were glued to your shorts.

You break him out of his spell when you turn around, coffee mug in hand. You're frowning, "Why's everyone so busy today?"

"It's like that everyday, we rarely see each other in the mornings." Doyoung explains, keeping his composure still as he tries not to let his eyes wander. He's not stupid, he knew it'd be a little difficult to live with someone as hot as you, but he figured he could handle himself.

"Oh that's too bad, I wanted to make everyone breakfast." You speak, turning around to open the cabinets, unaware how Doyoung's eyes shot straight back to your ass. "So, how was your night?"

"I-it was alright, and yours?" He asks while he clears his throat, already semi-aware of your ventures that you had announced.

"Can't say it was any better." And you leave it at that as you sigh. What could you mean by that? Did you not get laid? With an ass like that?

"Oh.. Well, I have a meeting with my professor in twenty so I have to get going soon." He nods, and you just about lose your mind.

"On a Sunday?"

"Computers work on Sunday's too."

God, what was he on about? "Okay Doyoung, see you later then."

Weirdly, you felt the least your friends could do was amuse you. But so far, you were beginning to realize that they're likely this busy all the time, between their schooling and internship jobs, they were packed.

Speaking of jobs, it was time to start looking.

..

Eight online job applications later and you're about ready to move to the woods and start living like a cave woman off the grid. No money, no bills, and no rent. Sadly, you were too accustomed to running water to let that happen though.

So you decide to drop off an application at a promising job near you, before hitting the inevitable brick wall. You don't have a printer.

Surely one of the boys had to have one, right?

Wrong, it seemed as you looked into Jungwoo's room. It felt weird to just peep in there, but you didn't want to bother him by texting since you knew he was busy. Unfortunately, you were already aware that Yuta didn't have one either.

Which left you with peeping into Doyoung's room. Maybe if you had just, I don't know, used the printer available at your college campus, you wouldn't have discovered such a life altering sight.

Yet, for some reason, that possibility didn't cross your mind as you swung the door open. And you felt like your jaw hit the floor as you stared ahead almost immediately.

Positioned right above Doyoung's bed, was a camera.

And not just any camera, an ultra HD expensive looking one, and that said a lot seeing you knew nothing about cameras. To make matters worse, it was held by a tri-pod. Could it be any more obvious?

You close the door as you stand, feet plastered to the floor in horror. What the hell was Kim Doyoung doing with a classic porn set up in his room? Kim Doyoung?! The nerdy TA who ran from woman that were just trying to ask him class-related questions? The male who grimaced at any sight of public of public affection? The one who rolled his eyes in annoyance when others made dirty jokes?

That Kim Doyoung was making porn?

Yeah right, you could almost laugh at that.

There had to be another reasonable explanation, right? You had known Doyoung for a while now, and he definitely didn't even seem like a man who was too keen on pre-marital sex, there was just no way he was filming it.

You doubt he even watched porn, that's how busy and wound up he seemed. There was no way on this green earth that he was doing that. But that doesn't explain what the camera was doing there.

You had to find a way to connect this to his nerdy computer job or you were going to go crazy.

You got home around five in the afternoon after dropping off the finally printed application, and picking up a few things, like toilet paper and laundry soap, that you had noticed missing around the apartment. Mostly just buying yourself time to get over the weird thoughts you were having now.

You doubt you'd be able to look Doyoung in the eye without crumbling, so you text your friend Mark if you can crash on his couch, he lives closer to campus anyways. He responds almost immediately with a sure dude, and you decide you'll stop by the house to pick up pajamas.

You don't expect anyone to be home as you unlock the door, but of course, everyone was home. All of them gathered in the living room with takeout boxes as Jungwoo spots you. He holds one up, "We didn't know when you'd be home, but we ordered for you."

You smile as you thank him, opening the box to reveal your favorite dish. You hadn't explicitly told them lately, but they had remembered? That makes your heart swell for your friends a bit as you spot Doyoung out of the corner of your eye. Oh, right.

"Actually, I have to go do this thing tonight." You lie. "So I just stopped by to get some clothes."

"Really? Is everything okay?" Yuta inquires as you nod. And it's as if there's no awkwardness from him after the incident this morning either, so you're grateful for that.

"I'm fine, I'll be home tomorrow." You explain.

"Well, could you spare a minute to eat with us?" Jungwoo pouts, and you find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself. You were always a little weak for him.

If Doyoung notices your odd behavior as you sit by him, he doesn't say a word about it. In fact, everyone seems to go about their business. Everyone filling you in on how busy their days were and asking about what you had been up to.

"Oh, I left the bags by the door, but I bought some stuff we needed."

"You're an angel." Jungwoo comments. "I was scared I was going to have to use napkins instead of toilet paper again."

"That's so gross Jungwoo." Yuta reconciles and you all laugh in agreement.

"So, you'll be gone all night then?" Doyoung asks, bringing your attention back to him. Your eyes dart to his hands, right as he twirls the noodles around his chopsticks. Sure you were still wondering a little about the camera situation, but it wasn’t like that right? Though you can’t help but notice how pretty his hands were. 

His fingers were long, and you couldn’t help but imagine how they wrapped around his own cock. If he filmed anything, would he jerk off and beg his viewers to let him cum? Or was he more dominant, shoving his thin fingers into a flashlight as he spoke nasty words, or maybe even in another girl. The visual alone is enough to get you hot and bothered. But you shake yourself out of it, this was the dorky comp-sci major you lived with, you should not be thinking about him like that.

"Yeah, I'm working on a project with Mark, figured I'd just spend the night since we have the class together in the morning." You put together, pretty impressed with how well the lie was coming out.

"Mark?" Yuta raises a brow, the name familiar to him. "Like the hockey player?"

You nod, curious. "You know him?"

"Not really, just know he's a jock."

You catch his implication. "Well, he's not like that. Plus, he's my friend so you guys shouldn't worry, not like I'm spending the night with a stranger."

Jungwoo grows uncharacteristically quiet. "Oh."

..

"So Jungwoo's being fucking weird, Doyoung might have an onlyfans, and Yuta's saw your boobs?" Mark parrots back as you two sit on his living room couch, he's shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side to the other as he thinks. His brows furrow in concentration as he cooks up a response.

"Exactly."

Haechan, your friends roommate and fellow hockey teammate, laughs loudly as he enters the room. "And it's only your second day living with them?"

"Told you the losers would be a lot to handle." Mark shrugs, and you roll your eyes. These two didn't have the greatest impression of your other three friends, reducing them down to the nerds everyone thought they were.

"I didn't see you offering me a room," You defend. "Plus, they're super easy to live with so I don't have much else to complain about."

"You could always just share a bed with me." Haechan smirks, and you fake gag. "Your room smells like shit."

"Hey!"

"Anyways, I'd rather live with my beloved nerds than with you two sleazes." You state truthfully, scrunching your nose.

"Doyoung might be slinging his dick on camera, yet we're the sleazes?" Mark giggles, and you hit him in the arm.

"I don't think that's the case but, is there any other explanation?" You groan, stealing a chip from a bag hidden on Mark's side. He swats at your hand as you grab another one.

"He could just be into filming." Haechan offers, joining you two as he pops open a soda. And you ponder if Doyoung's ever been seen with a camera before.

You shake your head, doubting it. "He's never mentioned anything like that."

"Well running from him, and the rest of your roommates, is just going to make them think you're ungrateful. It'd be better to just confront them now and get over it." Mark advises, and the other male agrees.

Haechan places his soda down. "Why does it matter anyways? What Doyoung does in his apartment is no one else's business."

"Well-" You stop yourself as you look down. "I don't know."

"What's up?" Mark says at the shift in your attitude.

You hadn't confronted it yet, but the though of the things Doyoung did on his bed with his camera running? You hated that you wanted to see it. You hated that you ran with the implication of him having a scandalous hobby, and that you wanted a front row seat.

"I don't know, even with those wire-frame's and all, I think he's kind of cute." You admit begrudgingly, leaning back into the couch in embarrassment.

"Oh my God," Haechan sits up. "The thought of him doing that has you all hot and bothered! That's what it is, it's not even about him actually doing it, its about you thinking he is."

"And you're just having trouble grappling with your feelings." Mark shrugs as he pops a chip into his mouth, lollipop stick discarded.

You cover your face with your hands. "Stop.."

Mark sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Don't hate the messenger."

"Okay sure, Doyoung's nice to look at but if anything, I'd be more into Jungwoo." You reveal, and it's true. If there's anyone in the house you'd like in that way, it'd be Jungwoo. You two just had a better connection, even if he'd be acting different lately.

"In a weird science-y kind of way?" Haechan tilts his head before groaning. "Why him when you could have the hottest frat boy on campus?"

"There you go again." You glare, knowing instantly that he was referring to Lee Jeno's crush on you. You know full well the two in front of you were rooting for their friend. They also thought you were too attractive to be hidden behind stuffy scholars all day. And sure, Jeno was sweet, and easy on the eyes, but you just weren't into him. "Stop trying to set me up."

"Worth a shot."

"Anyways, I think instead of just hiding here." Mark narrows his eyes. "You should go home and explain everything, that way you don't continue scuttling around out of nervousness."

"And admit that I thought about Doyoung in that way?" You exclaim, face palming. "Mark, that's a terrible plan."

"You don't have to say all that," Mark crosses his arms in retaliation. "Just talk about Jungwoo's behavior and clear the air with Yuta."

You hang your head in defeat. "Can I at least wait until tomorrow?"

"Nope. Now."

You plead as you caught off guard by his insistance. "But Mark-"

"He said now." Haechan repeats, grinning at your misery.

"Oh so now you two agree?" You scoff in disbelief. Those two loved to argue about everything, but of course they could team up against you.

Mark nods, pointing to the door. "Go before it's past their bedtime."

"Don't be ridiculous Mark." Haechan feigns seriousness before he chuckles. "They have to tuck each other in first."

"You two are so annoying." You mutter as you pack up your bag. Shooting the two endless glares as you slip your shoes on.

Thirty minutes later and you're at the front door of what is now considered your home. Even when it was just your friends, you had never felt this nervous entering it before. You take a deep breath in as you stick the key in the lock, ready for confrontation.

You're met with chatter in the living room, relieved that they were still up, at least you wouldn't be waking them. You close the door behind you quietly as you take your shoes off and make your way to the living room.

You take a deep breath as you round the corner. "Hey, I'm back-"

You freeze in your place at the sight before you. It seriously seemed liked your friends had been abducted by aliens. There was no way the image before you was real. Your eyes widen as your jaw slacks, "What. The. Fuck."

Your met with three pairs of eyes staring back at you, Yuta standing up from the couch first. "I-I thought you were going to be gone all night."

You stay still from shock, brain trying to come up for any reasonable explanation as to why your friends looked liked male strippers right now. "You...You're Yuta?!"

Yuta looks taken aback. "Just with a little makeup."

Just a little? Yuta looked completely transformed, his hair gelled back nicely instead of awkwardly parted down the middle. The black glasses and collard shirts traded out for thick rings and painted nails. He looked like a rock star, and was that a tattoo?

"We can explain." Doyoung awkwardly looks down. Your knocked out by the sigh of him as well. Gone is his usual stern put-together look, instead he's donning smoky eye shadow with layered gold necklaces as his dark hair messily frames his face. He's wearing a sleeveless shirt, and that catches you heavily off guard as he usually only wears loose fitting clothes. He had been hiding those toned arms the entire time?

You take a step back. "How do you plan on explaining why it looks like I just stepped onto the set of Magic Mike?"

Your eyes finally meet the quiet boy who had been on your mind recently, Jungwoo. And to say he looked stunning would be an understatement. He was wearing a cropped shirt that showcased his toned abs as he stood up, the red color of it contrasting to his skin perfectly. His eyes looked striking, and he's wearing dark makeup as well.

You'd hate to admit it, but the sight of the men had you suddenly rubbing your thighs together and trying to stop your head from spinning. What the hell was going on right now? What alternate timeline has you just entered?

"Why don't you sit?" Doyoung suggests, avoiding eye contact.

"Umm, alright." You comply, hesitating. When you look back up with expectant eyes, they start to get nervous.

Yuta sits as well, and you're trying not to drool. "Don't freak out."

You side eye him, this was an unusual reaction. "Right.."

"I'll just come out and say it," He pauses. "We're camboys."

He watches your face for a reaction but you provide none, instead choosing to have an explosion in your mind as you keep your composure outwardly. You turn to face him, calmly. "Oh."

Doyoung repeats. "Oh?"

"I don't know how I'm meant to react to this." You struggle truthfully. One, you were grappling with the explanation that you were right in your assumptions. Two, you were trying your best not to just gawk at them. "Plus, it's none of my business, I just came home to apologize."

Jungwoo furrows his brows. "To us?"

"I kind of already saw the tri-pod facing Doyoung's bed and jumped to conclusions. That's why I was acting distant, and I also flashed Yuta this morning-"

"You what?" Doyoung perks up.

"It wasn't on purpose." You wave your hands around before lowering your voice. "And I wanted to know why Jungwoo's been acting weird lately, and if I did anything wrong."

Jungwoo looks taken aback. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Are you sure? You've been acting off since I've moved in." You respond, trying not to ogle your friends abs. It was proving to be harder than you thought as you forced yourself to look him in the eye.

Yuta and Doyoung exchange a knowing glance that you miss as Jungwoo stutters for an explanation. "I'm sorry, I've just been stressed."

And you just nod, the tense atmosphere in the room suffocating you. "Maybe I should go."

"Are you bothered?" Yuta asks, stopping you. The rest of the boys look genuinely worried, and you feel terrible. Your silence must've come off wrong.

"What? No, this is your house! You can all do whatever you want." You admit genuinely.

Doyoung shakes his head. "We could've at least let you know before hand-"

"No, really, it's fine." You reassure him as you make eye contact with the two other boys. "Also, your secrets safe with me, I won't say anything."

"We know you won't." Yuta nods. "We trust you, and we're sorry we didn't say anything sooner, we just didn't want things to change."

"Nothing has changed, alright?" You smile. "Everything's normal."

..

Everything was far from normal as the days progressed. Sure, the boys seemed a little more loose around you, knowing they didn't have to hide their nighttime activities from you anymore.

But you, on the other hand? Let's just say you were having a hard time not opening a incognito tab on your computer to search for your friends content. Though you knew their accounts wouldn't be easily traceable, likely not having their real name attached to it at all.

It still didn't stop you from wanting to look though.

"If you zone out one more time, I'm kicking you out of my apartment." Haechan voices in annoyance, noticing your lack of attention on some crazy story he was telling you today.

"Yeah, what has you so spacey?" Mark asks, returning to Haechan's bedroom with a water bottle in his hand.

They were unaware of the events, as you had kept your mouth shut, as promised. But it was beginning to grow harder to keep everything to yourself, especially with the way you'd been feeling lately. So with Mark's curious eyes on yours, the words spill out like a waterfall. You recalling everything that had happened to your closest friends, including how badly you wanted to know what the others were up to behind the camera.

Haechan looks gobsmacked, mouth agape as he takes in your words. "..Jungwoo has abs?"

"Is that all you got from that?" You voice frustratedly, they were insufferable.

"I'm never seen him in the gym a day in my life!"

"You don't go to the gym Haechan!"

"All three of them?" Mark repeats, in utter shock as well.

You nod back. "I don't know if they film together or what but-"

"You wanna see it." Haechan finishes for you. "You pervert!"

"I'm not a pervert!"

"You're a pervert. Pervert, pervert, pervert!" Haechan continues in a sing-song voice as you feel your eye twitch. You don't know why you told these two, not like they could offer any useful insight.

Before you can retaliate, Mark's shushing his friend. "I know how to fix this."

You listen because, really? How could Mark possibly know how to solve the inner turmoil brewing inside of you? What could make it all go away?

You admit. "I'm all ears."

"You need to get laid." He states, and your brows fuzz.

"Uh..." You trail, trying to figure out the nicest way to shoot him down.

"Not by us!" He responds, almost reading your mind, then turning around and pretending to puke in Haechans mini trash can. How mature. He comes back to his senses as he stands up again. "Come to a party with us and get fucked. It'll take your mind off of them, and anyways, I think this is just caused by sexual frustration."

Haechan pipes in. "He's right, you're just suffering from lack of dick."

"I slept with this dude named Mingyu like a week ago-"

Haechan stops you. "Shhh, Mark is always right! Right Mark?"

"Right!" And it's so strange how the two have been suddenly agreeing lately.

So you, almost unwillingly, find yourself attending a party with them that very night. Dressed in your tightest fitting dress and your nicest pair of lingerie. After about thirty more minutes of talking to you, they had you convinced your reeling horny thoughts were coming from sexual deprivation. You're sure they had brainwashed you, because seriously, you just had sex! This plan was dumb, but what else did you expect?

Though now, you're feeling stupid as your two friends subtly nudge Lee Jeno in your direction. God, you should've known those two were up to something.

You sip from your red solo cup as Jeno continues to shyly sell himself to you. He's telling you about his volunteer hours, his stellar sports stats, and his love for animals. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's interviewing for a job, and not just attempting to grab a hookup.

Your heart somewhat aches for the boy, he definitely was trying to make you his girlfriend sooner or later, and it was almost sweet. But even if you weren't currently enthralled by the idea of your roommates, you still wouldn't have seen yourself giving Jeno a chance. He wasn't really your type anyways.

Jeno excuses himself to pour another drink as you shoot glares at your two friends from across the room. Not that Haechan sees it though, he's too busy trying to feel up some poor girl who fell for his pick up lines. Mark looks intimidated though!

You pull out your phone in an attempt to discourage any others from approaching you, and are met with a notification from Jungwoo. You open the message accompanied by his cute little contact photo and try not to smile.

It reads, Hey! Doyoung attempted dinner, you should come join us.

Granted, the boys had no idea where you were or that you were being forced into yet another mission, but you just stick your phone back in your purse and scan the room again.

While Lee Jeno may not have been your type, looking for something far too serious to even let you consider sleeping with him, Liu Yangyang seemed to be just what you were searching for. With your luck, he'd throw you off to the side the next morning. You're relieved by the fact that's he's not known to be one for committing.

You're about to approach him when Mark meets your eyes, sending you a silent don't, basically reading your mind. God, why did they have to play wingman? And curse Mark for reading your mind! So you stay rooted in your place as Jeno returns, handing you a drink that you won't even be drinking from.

Doyoung's dinner would probably be more entertaining that this right now. "Hey, sorry. I think I'm actually gonna head home, I'm pretty tired." You let out, interrupting whatever Jeno was saying.

There's a flash of disappointment in his eyes before he smiles. "I can drive you home."

Your eyes dart to the beer in his hand, passing him a fake smile. "I'll manage, but thank you for offering!"

You ignore the silent pleas and texts from your friends as you exit and get into your car, thankful that you hadn't taken a sip of anything at that party.

A few minutes later and you're back home, deciding to ring the door bell so you're not faced with another situation.

Yuta opens it, smiling as he welcomes you home. You grin back as you slip off your shoes, starving for whatever you could find. "Is dinner ready?"

But your question is answered as you walk into the kitchen to see instant ramen packets scattered across the counter top as Jungwoo holds a bowl, and Doyoung frantically scrubbing at a burnt pan.

Doyoung pushes up his glasses with his shoulder as he's still elbow deep in the sink. "Dinner didn't exactly go as planned."

You giggle. "I see that."

"Want some ramen?" Jungwoo perks up, gesturing his chopsticks towards you when you nod.

"Promise you'll cook for us tomorrow?" Yuta asks, watching as the charred food doesn't let up from the pan. You make a face as well as you shake your head.

"Promise," You say, swallowing your noodles as you sit next to Jungwoo. "Sorry I was out, Haechan and Mark are trying to set me up."

Doyoung somewhat stiffens at the names. "Yeah? Take it that didn't go well?"

You sigh. "Well, he's an athlete and he's nice enough,"

"But?" Jungwoo finishes, knowing you weren't done. Well, he was downright hoping something was wrong with this mystery athlete, truth be told.

Good thing he was right. "But, I don't think I'm into him."

"Why not?"

"No particular reason," You lie, managing to avoid eye contact with the men that were your roadblocks to anyone else right now. How were you supposed to manage a decent lay while thinking about the three hottest guys you've ever seen at home?

Even now, without their makeup and sultry clothing, you think they look attractive as ever. God, you had it bad. With those stupid collard shirts and wire frames, you think they've never looked better.

"I think I'm going to lay off the parties for a few days anyway, midterms are in a week." You continue, knowing the men in front of you had been preparing for them these past couple of weeks already.

"Right," Doyoung nods, sleeves still rolled up as he dries his hands. "Wanted to warn you by the way, we're going to be filming on Tuesday."

"Got it, I'll study at Mark's." You pass, already planning in your head how to get Haechan's loud mouth out of the room long enough to get work done.

Jungwoo looks bothered though. "Or you could stay?"

You look up from your bowl. "Hm?"

"I've been thinking," Jungwoo starts. "This is your place too, you should be able to go about your business while we film. It's not like I haven't done homework while Yuta recorded a fleshlight clip in the next room."

His boldness paired with his vulgar language — which you were definitely not used to — catches you off guard.

"I wouldn't want to bother-"

"No, he's right." Doyoung stops you. "We can't send you off everytime we have something to do, unless it makes you uncomfortable?"

You pause, you shouldn't even be considering this! Not just because of your lack of self control, but also, wouldn't this be dangerously pushing boundaries? "Oh but Yuta doesn't even have his own room right now-"

"Look, if Yuta ever needs to push something out, he can use my room. Or you could just come chill in mine while we wait." Jungwoo offers.

But goodness, being in the same vicinity as any of them when they're doing such sinful things? How were you supposed to hold back? You'd be expected to talk to Jungwoo while Yuta moaned up a storm in the other room?

"Oh, I don't know." You answer, wanting to drop the topic for now. It wasn't getting any easier to talk about it anyways.

"Why do you seem so nervous about it?" Yuta leans in, eyes meeting yours.

You subconsciously lean back, he was definitely onto you. Too bad it was a little hard to fake that you didn't fight the subconscious urge every past night to google their names. "Oh, uh-"

"We'll drop it," Jungwoo shoots a glare at Yuta. "Sorry."

"It's fine!" You smile, pretending to be preoccupied with your ramen. Though your mind is on anything but those stupid noodles right now.

“No we won’t.” Yuta smirks, ignoring Jungwoo entirely. “What has you so worked up, rubbing your thighs together below the table?”

You’re caught off guard at his openness. “W-what?”

“I bet it’s not that athlete, is it?” Yuta leans, tone seductive, and something you had never heard before. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to bend you over the table in front of you.

You avert your eyes, wondering why everyone else had gotten quiet all of a sudden. You couldn't confront this right now, no you wouldn't! "I'll be in my room."

And with that you make a quick way for your temporary bedroom. Ignoring Jungwoo's call for your name as you close the door behind you. What the hell were you going to do now?

Yuta knows he messed up, bad. Things had been tense in the house for the past few days, and you were more skittish than he had ever seen you. He wondered if you were spending time at Mark's place again.

That was Jungwoo's biggest nightmare, in all honesty. He wasn't sure what the nature of you and Mark's friendship was — and he didn't even want to think about it. You were gorgeous, you could have anyone you wanted! He had no doubt that your friends would fuck you if given the chance, if they hadn't already. He knows it doesn't matter who you're sleeping with, but it does make him feel jealous.

Doyoung remains indifferent, at least on the outside. He goes about his day as Yuta and Jungwoo lose their minds over how to return to their normal selves again. It affects him as well though. You were really close to all of them at one point, how had that changed in less than a week?

Doyoung just knows he wish things had went differently.

The sound of the front door opening alerts everyone in the house. Jungwoo's quick to jump up, greeting you at the front door. You smile back as you remove your shoes. You try to keep your composure as you ignore the men in front of you being dressed up. Ah, you forgot it was a filming day. "Today was so stressful."

"Really? Do you maybe wanna watch something in my room with me?" Jungwoo suggests, hoping he can attempt to ease things. "It'll help you relax."

You shrug, though you don't if you could handle the close proximity. It's already taking everything in you right now not to jump his bones in this hallway. "Why not?"

He mentally celebrates in his head, "I'll grab some chips and meet you in my room."

You nod, walking to your temporary room to change. Today really had taken a toll on you, and on top of it, you forgot you were coming home to your roommates alter-egos. Not that you were complaining, because you definitely weren't, but it had slipped your mind. At least Jungwoo wasn't being awkward anymore. Things were going back to normal, right?

You change into shorts and a simple t-shirt and make your way across the hall. You push open the door and see Jungwoo settled already on his bed, the tv already on. You and him to have movie nights in his bed during sleepovers, so this wasn't unusual. Finally, something was normal again. Even if now you were sexually attracted to him. Geez, could you get your head out of the gutter?!

You two watch the movie for a few minutes as Jungwoo starts to shift in his spot. You begin to grow concerned. "Everything okay?"

Jungwoo brushes you off. "I'm fine."

You furrow your brows. "Alright.."

It only takes a few seconds for him to break as he shoots up. He couldn't ignore it's presence, especially not with you in the room. The insinuation of the little red light on in the corner, as the two of you sat on his bed? It was taking his mind to places it shouldn't go. "I left my camera on my desk, its facing this way. Let me just put it up."

And with that he scrambles to his desk, shutting off the camera and tossing it in one of his desk drawers. He's frantic, and his mind is racing with how little you must think of him right now. "Sorry."

You shake your head. "Stop apologizing, it's fine."

Jungwoo covers his face with his hands as he leans against his desk. He breaks, "I can't keep pretending this isn't weird."

You had no idea he was losing his composure as well, you had thought you had been the only one blowing it out of proportion. But you didn't want him to feel ashamed. So you assure him, "I don't mind."

He moves his hands. "You don't feel weird?"

"Can I be honest, Jungwoo?" You ask, it was now or never. One more second of this back-and-forth and you were going to explode.

He meets your eyes. "Please?"

“It turns me on.” You blurt out, admitting the truth. And you can't believe it had came out so easily.

Jungwoo’s shocked as he fumbles over what to say next. “What?” 

It was too late to go back now, you had to say it. “I think it’s hot, Jungwoo, I think you’re hot.” 

Were his ears deceiving him? He prayed you weren't messing with him. “Really?” 

You giggle as you stand to your feet and he starts to feel stupid. “Mhm."

You continue to walk up to him as you place your hands on the desk behind him, effectively caging him between you. You had no idea where this boldness came from, but its likely he was drawing it out from you.

And he can't believe his circumstances. The girl he's been utterly in love with is leaning over him, in those tiny little shorts, telling him that he was the hot one? “So if I kissed you right now, you would-” 

You stop him mid-sentence as you bring your lips to his. It's reliving almost, the way your mouths slide together in synch. You had waited far to long for this to let him think he would take the lead. You wanted it far too badly.

He kisses you back, head dizzy with how much he wants you. Though he's laced with a feeling of uncertainty that he just can't shake off because what was this? Was this just a hook-up, oh he was getting ahead of himself. This was a kiss, who knew if you even wanted to sleep with him!?

He debates telling you right there, not letting another second go by where you don't know about his feelings. But he's scared, terrified even, of your reaction. So he savors the kiss, putting his hands around your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer together, if that was even possible.

You can feel your heart rate increasing as you lose your breath. You pull away slightly for breath as you and Jungwoo meet eyes. He's showing no signs of stopping though. Pulling you back in to meet his lips as gentle as possible, before kissing you with the hunger of a starved man.

He's devouring you, and he's not sure if he intends to stop there. He doesn't want to stop there, but he's completely blank on what you want. He separates, "We should stop."

You're hazy, drunk on the kiss as you eyes don't leave his lips. "Don't wanna,"

He stops you before you can go in again, squeezing your hips. He couldn't get enough of you, his body was craving you. "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

You smirk, hunger in your voice. "Then don't."

He groans, you had no idea what you were doing to him. How long he had dreamed of this moment. "I need to know what you want."

The statement has a double meaning, almost daring you to spill out about feelings that he's not even sure you had. Was he ultimately just hurting himself? Likely.

Though you only catch one meaning, "I want you inside me."

And he'd be stupid to deny you that. He tries to formulate a response but you don't give him a chance. You lean closer, brushing your sex on his semi-hard on, "Need you inside me."

"Fuck," He rasped, as he moves his knee between your thigh. You moan out in ecstasy, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had barely even touched you and you're bitching like a dog in heat.

You lick your lips. "Jungwoo, I-"

The door swings open as Yuta and Doyoung peek in. Yuta shakes his head as he crosses his arms, Doyoung standing in complete surprise. The two of them stare as if they caught you doing something illegal.

"Well, what do we have here?" Yuta speaks as he takes in the scene before him. You and Jungwoo hadn't even bothered to separate, too caught off guard to even have time to think about hiding what you were doing.

You swallow hard. "We were just-"

"Just grinding on each other like horny teenagers?" Yuta finishes, smirking as he knows he couldn't have walked in at a better moment.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite Jungwoo." Doyoung comments sarcastically, and you're left confused.

Jungwoo immediately catches on. "No that's not what we were-"

Yuta doesn't buy it. "No use in lying about it."

"I'm sorry, what?" You ask, unmoving.

"Yuta thinks we're filming." Jungwoo elaborates, sighing.

"You're not?" Yuta asks, and Doyoung looks intrigued.

You shake your head, "We were just kissing anyways."

"Jungwoo's boner says otherwise." Doyoung snorts.

Yuta crosses his arms, "Were you really gonna fuck her without us?"

The words hit you, without us? Who was us? Yuta and Doyoung?

You stutter, flabberghasted. "Y-you guy's would've wanted to watch?!"

Yuta shrugs. "I'll be honest, that's more of Doyoung's thing. He likes to watch, he's into those cuck things. I, on the other hand, would've wanted to join."

Yet again, you're phased by the casual talk of this all. A few weeks ago you never would've thought your friends were so, nasty. The guys who avidly avoided woman, the guys who go all shy when you got too close, the guys who would rather be studying than anything else. You don't think you'll ever get used to how they talk now.

Blinking, you speak. "You want to fuck me?"

Yuta brushes hair out of his face. "Are you serious?"

"W-what? Why are you acting like it's a stupid question, you guys have never shown attraction to me." You state, moving off of Jungwoo, and he winces as the loss of contact.

Doyoung groans. "I don't think we could've been anymore obvious without downright saying it."

Was that true? Had you missed all the signs? "I had no idea."

Yuta scoffs, quirking his head to the side condescendedly. "Look at her face, she's telling the truth, she really had no idea what she was putting us through. And here I thought you were being a tease on purpose."

"A tease?"

"Oh come on, flashing me. Walking around the house in tiny shorts and no bra under your t-shirts." He names and you see how that could look.

You mutter. "Flashing you was an accident."

"Well it's no accident how bad I want to fuck you." Yuta replies boldly, walking closer. "So are you in?"

Doyoung pipes up. "If you don't want to, you can walk out now. I promise, thing's wont be weird, we'll be fine."

You think over Doyoungs words for a minute, before looking back at Jungwoo. "I-"

You turn back to the other two. "I want to."

Yuta smiles, and Doyoung speaks again. "Are you sure?"

Jungwoo grabs your hand in his. "We're not trying to pressure you-"

"Jungwoo, I've wanted this for longer than you'd think." You admit, pressure off of your shoulders.

Yuta breaks the moment, pure lust in his eyes. "Get on the bed."

You do as told, laying down on the bed in excitement at the thought of what the three men are going to do to you. You had no idea what to expect.

Jungwoo settles on one side of you, rubbing you through your bottoms. “Thought you were too good for me, honestly. I’m little loser Jungwoo, and here you are, a sopping wet mess under me.” 

“Told Jungwoo I wanted to fuck you the day we met.” Yuta reveals, seated on the opposite side. Yet, you're too caught up on his words. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, baby. Told him we should get you in a little video too, what would you have said then?” He responds, and you flutter at the nickname.

“I had already thought of the title.” Jungwoo smirks. “Slutty college girl gets her tiny hole stretched by nerdy math tutors.” 

“I’d pay to see that.” Doyoung comments, eyes locked on you. 

“Of course you would.” Yuta teases, gaze full of pure lust. 

You feel fuzzy already. “I-I would’ve said yes!” 

“Are you sure?” Jungwoo asks condescendingly. Just because he wanted this as bad as you didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun. “I was just the nerd, remember? The nerd who watched you leave to get fucked by another guy while I was right here.” 

You moan out at his vulgar words going straight to your core. 

Doyoung takes a seat in the chair by Jungwoo's desk, seemingly content with watching. “We were all right here.” 

Yuta grins, hands pulling at your shirt. “I would’ve pounded you into my mattress the minute you asked.” 

You whine, the feverish desire taking over. “Wa-want that so bad.” 

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow?” 

You nod, overtaken with sheer desire.

Jungwoo suddenly leans down to capture your mouth in his, distracting how Yuta takes over and tugs your bottoms completely off. You shakily grab run your hands through his hair and he shivers when you touch him and gets slightly more aggressive with the kiss. He wants to be as close to you as he can, even if just for now.

You feel the air hit your bare cunt as you moan into Jungwoo's mouth. He smirks a little as Yuta shakes his head. "So wet just from a little kissing, who knew our friend was such a slut for us?"

You buck your hips off the bed, to which Yuta forcefully pushes your thighs back down. You're barely able to let out a yelp of surprise as the other male continues to meld his mouth with yours.

He’s clearly trying to keep the kiss going for as long as he can, he seems to be enjoying himself way too much. But you can't say you're complaining.

Jungwoo pulls off, moving his plush lips down to your neck as Yuta teasingly runs his fingers numbingly slow through your slit. "P-please stop teasing- umph!"

You're cut off as Yuta pushes a finger into you, quickly followed by another. He's agonizingly slow once again and you can barely handle yourself, "'S too much- too-"

"Oh so you want to give orders but when I follow through, now you're taking it back?" He moves his fingers inside you. "If you can't take my fingers, how are you supposed to take my cock?"

You moan at the thought of it, not knowing what he looked like under the belt should be considered pure torture, every other part of him was so alluring.

Jungwoo brings your attention back to him as he pulls your shirt up just enough to unclasp your bra, sliding both off with ease as you were too distracted to do it yourself.

"Your nipples are already so hard." He teases, though he goes to pinch one and that has you writhing. "Oh, they're even prettier than I imagined."

He continues to fondle one before putting his mouth on the other, sucking as Yuta continue to piston his fingers in and out of you, going faster by the minute.

You felt so good already, so overwhelmed that you weren't sure it could get any better, but oh were you so wrong.

You feel the familiar coil beginning to form in your stomach, unable to hold in your whines. "Don't stop, please,"

He doesn't, in fact he goes even faster. The pace matched with Jungwoo's mouth still on your boob makes you go dizzy fast.

Before you know it, you're feeling the coil snap and your release dripping out. But you were a fool if you thought they were going to stop.

Yuta continues to finger you damn near to heaven, Jungwoo's tongue jutting out to graze your nipple as he talks you through your climax.

But you're already halfway gone, "Want- want you inside,"

Yuta pulls his fingers out of you, and you clench around nothing as you whine at the sudden emptiness. Yuta doesn't seem too intent on giving it to you so easily though, "You want me inside?.. And what if I don't think you deserve it? What if I make you beg for it?"

You can feel tears well up in your eyes. "Please, please I'll beg. Please Yuta, I can't go another minute without your dick in me!"

Yuta smirks, satisfied with your response. He stands from the bed and pulls his shirt off, following by unzipping his pants. You watch intently as he does so, finally able to see his abs and that tattoo in all of its glory. You could feel yourself throbbing at the view.

"Condom," You whisper, almost like an afterthought, looking at Jungwoo. "Do you have any in here?"

Jungwoo nods, gesturing to Doyoung who sits by the nightstand. "Top right drawer."

Doyoung follows, throwing a package towards Yuta as he catches it before ripping it open with his teeth. Fuckkk that was so hot.

He wastes no time in sliding it over his length, positioning it outside your entrance. You hope he's about to enter but instead, like the tease he is, rubs your clit with his tip gently. Your body already trembling and he wasn't even inside yet.

"Beg," He commands as he continues his previous actions.

"Please! Oh please Yuta-" You chant his name like a mantra as he smiles down at you.

"Don't worry, I'll give you want you want." He speaks, pushing the plush head of his dick past your walls. "Not gonna stop till you're sore."

He continues to push himself farther in as Jungwoo rubs his thumb over your clit, how were they so in synch? Had they done this before?

Yuta finally bottoms out inside you, hissing as you clench around him. "Pussy so fucking tight for such a whore."

You groan as he starts to move, thrusting into you as you babble. Jungwoo's eyes land straight on where your tits bounce, obsessed with the view. God, he was gonna bust in his pants.

You can hear the slight tap of the headboard creaking as it hits the wall behind you, Yuta reaching up to grip it as leverage while he slams into you, and you're trying your hardest not to drool on Jungwoo's pillow.

The younger male smirks before he pulls you into a kiss, silencing your moans for the minute as his tongue explores your mouth.

You whine into Jungwoo's mouth as he continues to sloppily kiss you. Yuta never falters as he watches from behind, he never knew he could enjoy watching you so much. He's borderline obsessed with seeing you two make out while he's inside, he can't get enough.

Doyoung can't see as well from where he sits, but the sounds make up for it. The room filled with the sounds of your muffled moans and skin meeting skin, accompanied by Yuta's heavy groans and pants.

He's doing everything he can to not take his dick out and start palming it, convincing himself to just wait for his turn.

Yuta moved in and out of you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. You cried out as the pleasure became almost too much to bear, body quivering beneath him.

He doesn't let up though, too keen on seeing your pretty face all scrunched up. You were shaking as his movements started to go deeper and deeper into you, there was no way you were going to survive this.

"You feel that baby?" He groans. "Feel how hard you make me?"

You just nod, too focused on the task at hand.

He keeps going, "Look how hard Jungwoo is, he's leaking all over his bed."

You'd love to see, but you can't bring your eyes steady enough to look towards him. Jungwoo lets out a quiet whine at Yuta's words, clearly embarrassed.

"Don't get all shy Jungwoo." Doyoung interjects. "It's cute seeing you so worked up."

You moaned, despite the words not being directed towards you. Doyoung voice mixed with Yuta hitting your g spot brought you directly to another realm of heaven.

Yuta felt his body tremble as his release began to build, his mind spinning as his pleasure reached its peak. He couldn't believe he was really getting to have you like this, in all his wildest dreams come true. His fingers dug into your hips, anchoring him to you as the orgasm started to take over.

You separated from Jungwoo as you started to feel the falter in the others thrusts while feeling a similar build up, managing to sputter out a "Are you close?"

He nods, "Are -shit- you?"

You can barely respond before Jungwoo's bringing your lips back to his. He never wanted to stop kissing you, he couldn't.

You suddenly felt your orgasm rush through her body, your entire body trembling with pleasure. You clung to Jungwoo, fingers digging into his arms as the intensity of the moment hit you.

You gasped as you came, body shaking with the intensity of it, breathing heavily as the pleasure slowly ebbed away.

With a deep growl, Yuta followed as he gave one final thrust and released into the latex. Mind incredibly hazy as he collapsed beside you onto the bed. Breathing heavy as you will your eyes not to close.

He stares at your fucked out face, proud of the little number he did on you. He knows this was likely his first and last chance to see you like this, so he was going to relish in it.

Though, others didn't seem to agree with the slower paced approach, Doyoung moving the other male out of the way to climb onto the bed.

Surprisingly, you try to push yourself up. Though, you're still too unsure to ask for what you want. "Can I..."

"Can you what?" Doyoung mocks after you don't respond for a few seconds. "Closed mouths don't get fed."

Who knew he could be so mean?

"Can I ride you?" You blurt out.

He smirks. "Is that what you want?"

You nod, "Fuck, please Doyoung."

He laughs, leaning back on the head board as he slips his pants down. "Be my guest, if you think you can still hold yourself up."

You place your hands on his shoulders as you wobbly throw your legs over Doyoungs lap before pausing, "W-wait,"

The others immediately halt, awaiting your words.

"Jungwoo's still so hard, and he hasn't touched himself. I should help him." You let out, starting at the male who you started this all with.

"Yuta's got it." Doyoung speaks, while the other male composes himself. "Right?"

The oldest smirks, wordlessly reaching over as Jungwoo's face grows red. He wraps his hand around the base of the youngers shaft and starts moving, kitty licking the tip as Jungwoo moans out.

"D-don't stop, I want to see you and Doyoung." Jungwoo gasps, locking eyes with you before squirming at Yuta's actions. It's not like it was the first time they had done this, but it felt so different every time, especially now that he was taking him wholly in his mouth.

You grow wetter at the sight of your roommates getting each other off, now you see why they like to watch so badly. Yuta looked so pretty with his mouth full of cock while Jungwoo moaned like a bitch in heat and clawed at his bed sheets. Not to mention that Yuta had grown hard again, his own hand snaking down to touch himself.

Doyoung lines himself up, his tip pushing past your walls as you slowly sink down. The stretch burning slightly even though you had been fucked already. You couldn't help but hiss, he was just too big.

You bounce a few times as Doyoung digs his nails into your hips. He's more quiet than Yuta, but less composed. You weren't sure he'd have much to say if he could manage to talk. The most you catch from him are quiet groans and deep breaths.

His eyes don't leave your cunt, directed towards where your bodies meet. He's never felt anything so good, not even his state of the art toys his viewers brought him made him feel this way.

“Need it off.” You mutter, reaching below you towards Doyoung’s cock. He hisses as you pry at the tip, harshly pulling the rubber condom off. You throw the item across the room, bringing your hand back to sink down on him as the other boys watch in awe. 

Jungwoo's quick to intervene, “But-”

“We’ll get her a Plan B.” Yuta reassures him as he comes up for air, and you take notice of the way Jungwoo’s face falls for some reason.

You continue bouncing as Doyoung grabs one of your boobs in his hands. You bite your lip at the feeling, mind already halfway to mush as you continue to spear yourself on his cock. “Feels so good.”

He growls as he meets your hips at an animalistic pace. He finally gains the reserve to speak. Teeth gritting, “You feel better than I imagined, slutty pussy dragging me in.” 

Jungwoo pushes Yuta's head down farther as the other teases, while the other gags at the action. The sounds of slurping register in your ears as you look back that way. You almost cum at the sight.

Jungwoo's face twists as he releases into Yuta's mouth, the latter swallowing it without a qualm. Jungwoo can feel himself growing hard again though. The squelch of your body parts melding together has Jungwoo's head spinning even though he already came.

Yuta snarks as he gets onto his knees, pushing his dick into the youngers face. "Your turn, put those pretty lips to use."

Jungwoo's eyes never leave your body as he opens his mouth. Now, if you thought Yuta looked good like that, nothing compared to how Jungwoo looked. So pliant and content to be helping his friend out.

Doyoung brings your attention back to him as he grabs your jaw, "I'm giving it to you so good that you're shaking yet you're staring at them instead?"

You shake your head, grinding down harder on Doyoung's dick as you stop bouncing, knees growing sore. "I'm sorry-"

He scoffs, grip tightening on your jaw. "No you're not."

"I-" You huff, hearing Jungwoo's pretty noises echo in your head as you fight every bone in your body to turn and look.

"Shut up," He cuts you off. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You nod as he thrusts up into you. You whine as he holds you in place, using you like a flesh light of his own design. All you can do is take it, feeling his tip kiss your insides with every thrust. Felt like he was rearranging your guts.

He pounds into you with such vigor that you wonder how he has the strength for it all. You try your best to meet his thrusts but he hardly gives you time to.

You would've never guessed the unbothered Kim Doyoung would be into fucking this rough. The more you know, you guessed.

You shout out, "I'm cumming!"

His speed doesn't falter, and he continues fucking you through your second orgasm of the night. He continues as you whimper at your sensitivity, hoping he was close.

"P-pull out," You sputter out, suddenly reminded that you two were going at it raw.

"I will," He responds, before he's moaning out. "Fuck, lift up."

"O-okay." You say, pulling yourself up slightly as his cock springs back onto his abs, covering his stomach in his release.

"That was so hot." You admit, sitting on the bed.

He blinks, "Yeah?"

You barely manage to turn as Yuta shoots his load out onto Jungwoo's face. His face looking ethereal as licks some of it off of his lips.

Yuta's about to say something when Doyoung speaks, "Yuta, lets go take a bath."

Yuta looks confused, not catching the others hint. "Now?"

Doyoung rolls his eyes, "So we can clean up."

"You're hard again, aren't you?"

The other shoots him a glare, clenching his teeth. "Let's go."

He basically drags the other out of the room as you two watch in confusion. Yuta bids, "See you later."

You stay quiet, unable to move without your body aching. Though you feel sudden energy to keep going as you look beside you.

Jungwoo leans over you and brushes your hair out of your face, and it feels more apparent that its just the two of you in the room. “You okay?” 

“I’m a little sore, but I’m fine.” You admit, wincing a bit as you move your legs in an attempt to sit up. Jungwoo shakes his head as he stops you though. 

“If you're not feeling okay-" He starts but you quickly shut him down,

You tilt your head. "But I've waited so long for you."

However, you can barely focus on his words as you take in his disheveled appearance. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. Again. 

He grabs your chin gently, lifting it up to kiss you more, and you can almost taste Yuta on him. He takes his time as you feel the urge to press up against him, ignoring the pain in your legs that the others left in their wake. 

“Baby, don’t tease me there.” He whines, stopping the kiss. 

Yet you don’t cease your actions, wanting to hear more of his needy voice. “I want you so bad, Jungwoo.” 

His eyes meet yours, hesitance behind them. “Really, are you sure?” 

“Unless you don’t to-” 

“No no, I want to.” He responds, meeting your lips again. He’s more sure of himself this time, hand snaking to touch your cunt.

You're one hundred percent sure you were in love with Jungwoo. But who was counting?

Before you knew what was happening, he was throbbing inside you. Your cunt spent from the other two, but so willing to take him in as well. He was much bigger than you imagined, but once he was inside you, it was like he lost all semblance of control.

You almost wanted to laugh, what happened to the Jungwoo that was being almost mean to you earlier? Was he so drained that he forgot?

He had you in missionary, long slow thrusts pressing into you as you whimper. He caged you under him, hand holding yours as he used the other for balance. He went in for another kiss again, soft like he was scared you were going to break.

Being with him felt different, of course the others felt good but there was a clear line drawn in the sand with them. Yuta was a performer, he got off to the others looking at him put on a show. Doyoung didn't seem like he was focused on you as much either, and was more about himself.

But Jungwoo? He seemed to be worried about you and only you.

"You're so pretty." He mutters, looking into your eyes.

"P-pretty?" You ask, his length still bullying into you.

"I think you're gorgeous." He confirms, wanting to go in for another kiss.

"Jungwoo..." You wrap your hands around his shoulders as you pull him closer. "I think I like you."

He looks shocked at this, pausing his strokes. "Really?"

You smile, "Yes, really."

"But I'm just me." He avoids eye contact. "You're out of my league and I'm just this dork who studies mechanics! And are you sure you like someone who films himself-"

You interrupt him with a kiss, slipping your tongue past his mouth as you only pull away when you need air. "I don't care about any of that, I like you."

He smiles, "If you hadn't noticed, I've had a thing for you since that day in class when you sat next to me. I was so bummed you weren't even in that class and was just hoping I saw you again."

"Well, I'm glad we found our way back to each other."

"Me too." He speaks before pressing his face into your neck, mumbling as he continues his actions.

You two continue in almost silence, basking in pure love for each other as only small whimpers echo throughout the room. Everything that needed to be said already had been. You two were definitely going to have a long talk after this.

Living with the boys was no longer temporary, it was now your permanent place of residence. Especially since you had packed up your things and moved into your boyfriends room, granting Yuta access back to his room.

Things had been going well. Midterms went smoothly, Jungwoo was great (The sex was too), and you had landed that job you applied for!

You had even made an appearance in your boyfriends job, with masks of course, but nonetheless his viewers ate it up. Now they even sent comments in begging you to start your own channel, but you think you're far from that.

Things weren't awkward with the boys either, in fact, it feels good to have everything open in the air. There weren't any secrets anymore and things just felt like they were almost back to normal.

Breaking the news to Mark and Haechan was definitely... a scene. Mark was heartbroken on Lee Jeno's behalf while Haechan was more worried about how he was the only friend who hadn't gotten to tap that. To which Mark corrected that he hadn't either, which just led to a mess of a conversation.

People were definitely caught off guard when the news of you together broke. Many thought the pairing was funny.

Those like Haechan and Mark thought you had gone mad. And Jungwoo's studious admirers shuddered at how he could be with someone as provocative as you. Ha! If only they knew.

Jungwoo placed an object in front of you, proud of his efforts. "Here it is, the finished scale model."

You pick up the small jet in your hands, giggling at its design. "I love it, it looks like a tiny plane."

"It's a fighter jet!" Doyoung corrects as he joins you both in the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, "I'm aware, I helped paint the stupid thing."

"Stupid?" Jungwoo gasps dramatically.

"That's not what I-"

"Nope." He stops you. "Too late, the damage has been done."

"Jungwoo, don't be dramatic." You plead, though his eyes are already bulging out of his head.

He places his hand on his chest as he pretends to be hurt. "I'm going to go cry and throw up in my room."

"Dear lord," You begin before he runs off to his room. You've grown used to his antics by now. "Guess I have to go reassure him now."

Doyoung snorts, "Gross."

"Not like that, you pervert!"

"Who said I even was talking about that! You made it all dirty!" He retorts back when Yuta enters the room.

"Contrary to popular belief, we don't just fuck every chance we get."

"Tell that to my ears! You guys keep me up most nights, it's so annoying." Yuta complains. "The walls are thin, you know!"

You giggle, walking out of the room to find your sulky boyfriend as you shrug. "Deal with it."

The two watch as you're out of sight, Doyoung pouring himself water for his tea. He notices the look on the others face as he pats him on the shoulder. "You ever regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Not telling her."

Yuta sighs, looking down before he shakes his head. "No. Jungwoo makes her happy, and that's good enough for me."

Doyoung chuckles, "We could switch rooms, if you want."

"It's all good, It's not that bad."

"You like listening don't you-"

"I'm going to slap you if you finish that sentence."

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hey! could you please write something about Aemond hearing his name in a conversation, he stays at the door sure he will hear something bad but instead he hears the lady talk about her sex dreams about him

Thank you so much💙

Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~1400

Aemond strides down the corridor of the Red Keep, in the direction of the training yard. It is mid-morning and his schedule runs like clockwork - he has a sparring session with Ser Criston Cole in 15 minutes and fully intends to arrive early, he always does.

Raucous laughter echoes down the hallway. He catches the source of it through a crack in the solar door, which has been left ajar. Helaena’s ladies in waiting are all reclining on the couches inside, though there is no sign of the Princess which they are in service of.

He scowls. He doesn’t understand why they aren’t shut away when not in Helaena’s presence. They are always laughing, it gives him a migraine. What could possibly be so funny?

The giggles subside when one of them speaks in hushed tones. 

“I had a dream last night…about Prince Aemond.”

His ears prick up at this, his curiosity piqued, and he hovers to the left of the doorframe, so he can listen in undetected. He is certain that what is to follow will be some gruesome retelling of the One-Eyed Prince being the source of night terrors, it would not be the first time he has overheard unkind words about himself.

“Oh? Do share.” One of them pipes up.

“I-I can’t.” She stammers. “It is improper.”

Aemond’s eye widens at this. He leans forward, peering through the gap to see which of them it is. She is pretty. Beautiful, actually. He has never bothered to take the time to properly look at any of them before, usually doing his best to avoid them at all costs, but there is no denying that she is fairer than any woman he has ever looked upon. He hopes more than anything that the rest of this wretched gaggle can convince her to divulge further details.

More giggles erupt, before a voice chimes in.

“Oh, go on, your secret’s safe with us!”

“Well…we were coupling…and it felt good…I have heard that lying with a man is painful and uncomfortable, but I was enjoying it, and after…he pleasured me with his mouth…”

This is a chorus of gasps, followed by more laughing.

Aemond feels his heart hammering inside of his chest. It seems so loud he is certain the ladies in the solar will notice and catch him in the act of eavesdropping. His skin flushes hot from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. He is in utter disbelief at what he has just heard.

“Were you not repulsed by it? He is disfigured after all.”

“No.” She rebuffs. “Actually, I find Prince Aemond rather dashing…”

Aemond pushes off of the wall and hurries away. He has heard enough. He does not know how to handle the words he was just privy to. They were not meant for his ears and yet he cannot undo hearing them. What is he supposed to do with the way they have set his pulse racing? He never asked for this, had never even noticed her before today, and yet he cannot help replaying the words in his mind.

We were coupling.

It felt good.

He pleasured me with his mouth.

I find Prince Aemond rather dashing.

For the first time in his life he is late to the training yard. Ser Criston greets him with a reproachful look, before Aemond suffers through what is undoubtedly the worst sparring session he has participated in since he first took up a wooden sword as a child.

We were coupling.

His sword is knocked from his hand.

It felt good. 

His shield splinters under a blow from a morningstar.

He pleasured me with his mouth.

He is knocked to the ground.

I find Prince Aemond rather dashing.

The point of Criston’s sword is at his throat.

“Is everything alright, My Prince?” Criston asks with genuine concern, offering out a hand and helping Aemond back to his feet.

Aemond’s eye is wide, his breathing laboured, and not from the exertion of training.

“I-I think I am unwell, Cole. Please excuse me.”

He stalks back inside, seeking solace in the library. Pulling a copy of Unnatural History from the shelf, his favourite book to lose himself in, he settles into an armchair and begins to read.

“The bloodmages of Valyria used wyvern stock to create dragons…we were coupling…The bloodmages of Valyria…it felt good…”

“Seven hells!” He slams the book shut upon realising he cannot get past the first line, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

He pleasured me with his mouth.

He has never heard of a man doing such a thing to a woman. Despite the vulgarity of it, he is intrigued. He places his copy of Unnatural History on the nearby table and stands, making his way towards the end of the library that contains the more salacious reading material.

He takes a quick look around to make sure the prying eyes of the maesters aren’t watching him, before scanning the shelves and selecting the tome he feels will be most relevant for what he is attempting to research.

It only takes a few seconds of flicking through the pages before he finds what he’s looking for. Graphic descriptions of how women can be prepared for intercourse, and even brought to peak, via the use of lips and tongue.

His eye widens and his breathing quickens as he imagines licking her in her most intimate area. It’s only when he realises that his cock is now straining painfully against the laces of his breeches that he hurriedly places the book back on the shelf and retires to his chambers.

He lays on his bed that afternoon, spilling into his own hand, with her name falling from his lips like an urgent prayer.

She is there at the dining table when he goes to supper that evening. It is not unusual for Helaena to invite her ladies in waiting to dine with them, and usually Aemond sits at the far end of the table, avoiding eye contact and all attempts at conversation. However, this evening feels different. Prior to tonight he had never heard her say she found him “dashing”, he had never pleasured himself to the thought of burying his face between her thighs.

Guilt blooms heavily in his chest as he takes his seat. His food remains untouched. Every time he looks up he catches her eyes upon him. Does she know? How could she?

In truth, he cannot keep his eyes off of her either and it is probably that that drives her to stare as she does.

On an ordinary evening, Aemond sips delicately at his wine throughout the meal, leaving the cup almost full by the time he leaves the table. However, tonight he finds himself draining his first and gulping greedily at the second. The calming effect it has on his nerves is most agreeable to him.

He pleasured me with his mouth.

His grip on the edge of the wooden table turns his knuckles white, as he struggles to compose himself. His sigh of relief is almost audible as the meal draws to a close and everyone begins to retire for the evening.

He catches sight of her outside of her own bedchamber door as he is returning to his. Fuelled by the confidence that two cups of wine on an empty stomach has granted him, he lengthens his strides, catching up to her before she is able to make it inside and close the door.

She turns, startled, as he grabs her arm, pulling her towards him.

“My Prince?” She asks, a hint of fear and confusion pinching her delicate features as her brow furrows slightly.

Acting on his new found boldness, Aemond leans down to whisper in her ear, his voice husky. “I heard what you said earlier.”

He regards her face carefully as he pulls back, but there is no apparent recollection, so he decides to be more daring. Leaning in once more he says “Just so you know, if I were going to pleasure you with my mouth, I’d do it before I stuck my cock in your cunt, not after.”

He lets her go and walks away with a smirk. When he chances a glance back over his shoulder and sees that she is still frozen in place, her mouth agape, he knows that she knows exactly what he is talking about and his words have had the desired effect.

“Sweet dreams, my lady.” He calls behind him.

[multi-fxndom446]

Say don’t go

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley X Reader

Summary: simon hates how far you dug yourself into his life. He really doesn’t.

Warning: kinda angsty with fluff ending, kinda toxic Simon but it’s really just him being bad at emotions, probably ooc I’m sorry, sleeping problems.

Word count: 3.9K

I know I’m late on this I apologize 😗 I had work and then I fell asleep I’m not even gonna lie.

I genuinely can’t tell if I love or hate this piece so I really hope you guys like it either way.

This is his part two to his ‘you came? You called.’ scenario that I will link {{here}}

This would honestly make more sense if you read that first.

~~~

When you first came into his life you were really nothing more than an acquaintance. He knew of you because he knew almost everyone on base but you..you just came into his life like you knew you were the missing piece to his puzzle.

The first day he finally met you, you sat yourself down at the table he was sharing with Gaz and Soap in the back of the cafeteria. Both men instantly shutting up as they watched Simon turn to stare at you after glancing around the room to see if this was the only empty seat. It wasn’t.

“Morning!” You smiled and went about eating your food not saying another word. So he didn’t either.

Then suddenly you were just there.

In meetings, at meals, at training you were always there right beside him. It was like you sought him out because one minute he’d enter a room unnoticed and be standing in the corner alone when suddenly you were right next to him when only a minute ago you were clear across the room talking to some soldiers on your squad.

You never really spoke to him unless he spoke to you but you made sure he felt your presence. Especially when you’d offer nightly to help him with paperwork, he thinks it’s because you caught onto the fact he opens up a little more when you’re alone.

Suddenly, he couldn’t see his life without you now. Without your quiet support. But sometimes it was to much, he felt like he was being crowded and he remembered the first night he finally snapped at you for it. The first of many more times he’d push you away.

And it worked. You gave him space. You stuck with your own friends and only offered him a smile in passing. He hated it.

He hated that he started to like you and your presence. He hated that you made him like you so easily when Soap worked hard to finally get close to him.

He hated that he couldn’t even blame you for how he felt. You didn’t know the effect you were having on him. You didn’t know that he started searching for you in every room or that he hated seeing how the other soldiers looked and spoke to you.

He didn’t know why it boiled his blood to see so many of them stare at you like you were a piece of meat or why when he heard the way they flirted with you it made him want to strangle them.

After the first week of you giving him space, he gave in after he couldn’t take seeing the soldiers all over you again.

He couldn’t help but feel a little smug when he noticed that those men didn’t talk to you as much when they saw you were always next to the scary lieutenant with a skull mask.

Simon learned about you this time around. He found himself drawn to the kind of person you were and he wanted to know more. So on those late nights where you helped him in his office, he’d ask you questions which you were more than happy to answer. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to have an actual conversation with the man.

You told him about your life, family, friends, past missions you’ve been on and in turn he told you some of his experiences even if he didn’t divulge all the details.

As the night dragged on with shared stories and secrets he had learned that you never slept very well and that’s why you never minded staying up late to help him.

It was this reason alone that he wasn’t entirely shocked when one night you showed up at his door at some god awful hour of the night almost on the verge of tears after not having slept for 3 days.

He let you in immediately and let you get comfortable, handing you the hoodie that would end up becoming your favorite when he noticed you were cold.

He tried to give you the bed that night but you all but yanked him into the bed with you and curled yourself into his side while he laid there stiff as a board. He counted the seconds ticking by almost waiting for you to admit this wasn’t going to help you sleep either until he heard your soft even breathes and he dared to glance at you.

You were sound asleep and Simon was terrified to move. But after laying there for almost two hours the sound of your breathing eventually lulled him to sleep and he’d never admit it was some of the best sleep he’d gotten.

By the time the sunlight started to seep into his room, you were gone and he almost wondered if he dreamt the whole thing before he noticed the hoodie he lent you was long gone as well. He would find it when he finally went to the cafeteria that morning and saw you wearing it as you spoke with the other soldiers.

And so began the long months of his back and forth. Of his hot and cold, tiptoeing the line between wanting to make you only his and not wanting to burden you with him and his life.

He tried often to keep you at a distance, to push you away but you never seemed to let him get very far because any time he yelled about wanting space he would find you at his door, in his hoodie ready to sleep in his arms and he suddenly couldn’t remember why he wanted space.

It wasn’t like he really did want you to leave anyways. He wanted you with him always but when he could see the way others made you laugh in a way he couldn’t or the way some of those soldiers still had the balls to flirt with you while he loomed behind you. He wished he could just do that but it wasn’t like him to do any of that. So he kept things between you private and outside the hoodie there was no other sign you and he were involved in any sort of way.

You always respected his wishes and kept whatever you had going on private but on some nights where you genuinely thought he wanted you gone you would stay gone and end up finding him at your door when you didn’t come to him at the usual time.

It wasn’t healthy. You knew that and so did he but neither of you could seem to care when it got to the end of the day. None of it mattered when you were behind closed doors and there would be sweet nothings whispered and lips ghosting each other when he felt like lifting his mask just enough.

You knew what you wanted, you never tiptoed the line. You just waited for him to realize that he wanted you no matter what too.

But When Simon broke things off for the final time you wanted to say you were shocked but in truth you weren’t.

The nights leading up to it there were more arguments and more avoided glances in the mornings. He’d keep his distance in every situation and on some nights he even locked his door to prevent you from coming in.

It was heartbreaking. And you didn’t even know why he was doing this.

You didn’t even know that he was hurting just as much as you were. It killed him in every way to see that the way he was treating you was tearing you down slowly.

The boiling point finally came when you were assigned to work with Soap on a mission. It came as a little bit of a surprise for everybody until price explained that you were moving up in the team and he wanted you trained to start going on missions with the 141.

He was truly happy for you for moving up in your career but at the same time he hated how this allowed you and Soap to get closer. He hated the way his Scottish friend could speak to you so freely, how he could hug you out of no where and not have a care in the world.

Simon wasn’t an insecure man.

He knew that.

In fact he knew he may even be a little to full of himself. He knew he was an attractive man, mask or not. He knew women who would love a chance with him but he never cared to entertain them. So he definitely didn’t care that Soap would flirt with you jokingly all the time.

What he did hate was how happy you seemed to be when you talked to him. How open and yourself you seemed when you would be passing jokes back and forth.

He couldn’t help but watch it unfold over time. The way you lit up whenever Johnny would say something, the way your smile widened at some stupid joke he attempted.

Simon couldn’t help but think about how Johnny was the one you should be with. He knew for a fact Johnny wouldn’t tiptoe this stupid line he drew he knew he wouldn’t hide the fact he cares for you or try to push you away when he felt like you deserved better.

He started to wonder if you were falling for his Scottish friend but every night he would be reminded how much more you loved him. He felt unworthy of it. Unworthy of the way you would look at him with all the adoration in the world, unworthy of the way your soft lips would always come so close to his as you whispered to him late in the night. He felt unworthy of the way he could tell when you smiled at him it was completely different from the way you smiled at anyone else.

It was a smile that was reserved for him and him alone.

He knew that.

But as he was forced to watch you and Johnny interact on a daily as you got ready for your mission, his own judgment was getting clouded by the way he thought you would be happier with Johnny.

You both were such a forced to be reckoned with. Both of you shared a warmth that drew people in, like a moth to a flame. He wondered how he’d never seen how perfect you were for each other before..a little to perfect.

You and Johnny were a little to similar and it’s what made you such good friends but both of you knew nothing more would ever happen. He knew your heart belonged to someone else and he wasn’t looking for anything to begin with. But Simon was blinded.

He broke it off with you only a few days after your mission with Soap. Every night for a least a week he would hear you come to his door and knock gently but it went ignored.

“Simon can we please talk about this?” He heard you whisper on the final night. His heart breaking from how emotionally exhausted you sounded. “I don’t know what I did. Did I do something wrong?”

He got up quietly and walked to the door and stood just right there. If he reached out even just a little he could reach the handle and swing open the door. But he refrained.

He heard you sigh before there was rustling on your side. When it got quiet again he could practically feel the way your head leaned against the door. “I’m sorry. I only ever wanted to be with you.” Then you were gone and his head fell against the door with a soft thud.

He waited until he knew you were long gone before he opened the door. There on the floor, folded neatly was his hoodie that you took from him all those months ago.

Picking it up, he held it close to him. It smelled like you now. When he closed his door and was left in cold silence once again he hung the hoodie up and didn’t touch it again until you called for him almost a month later.

The days passed by as they always did before you were in his life. Uneventful. He trained, ate, did paperwork then slept but he quickly learned how much he hated sleeping alone.

The bed felt colder without you curled up next to him. It felt lonelier without your hand tracing over his arm softly or playing with his fingers as you spoke quietly in the night.

He missed you and he hated how much he was letting this affect him.

“I don think she’s sleepin’” Johnny mentioned one night and Simon followed his line of sight to see you making your way into the cafeteria. “She looks like shite.”

He wasn’t wrong. The flame that you had, seemed like it dwindled extensively. The circles under your eyes seemed darker and the weak smile you gave your friends didn’t convince anyone but you looked like you were beyond caring.

One of your friends rubbed your shoulder soothingly while your eyes scanned the room as if you could feel him watching you. The millisecond it took for your eyes to connect he was already looking away and turning back to Johnny.

It was the first time since it ended that you sought him out again. For the most part you kept to yourself, never looked for him anymore and went about your day but it seemed the lack of sleep was catching up to you.

“What the hell happened between you two L.T.?” Johnny muttered as he leaned closer. “Don’t tell me some fuckin shite about not knowing. She talked about you all the time so I know something happened.”

Simon didn’t let show how much that comment took him off guard. He didn’t realize you talked about him so much and to soap of all people.

“Eat your food Johnny.” He grumbled instead unable to look him in the eye.

“Well I’m just worried bout ‘er.” He muttered while he did what he was told and started eating again. “I don’t know how well she can handle the mission tomorrow with the way she looks.”

Simon looked up at that. “What mission?”

“You don’t know? Price is sending her out on her own. Supposed to be a short mission but she looks like a walking skeleton already.” Johnny glanced in your direction before going quiet.

Johnny didn’t even get a chance to say anything else before Simon was already on his feet and half way out of the room on his way to see Price.

The captain was standing at his desk when Simon all but slammed open his door, eyes narrowed. “Simon, I was expecting you.” Price said nonchalantly as he went back to looking at his papers. “Tea?”

“No I don’t want your bloody tea.” He spat out, closing the door behind him but the captain didn’t look up even when Simon was standing right in front of his desk.

“Then what can I help you with?” He asked it like he already knew and Simon supposed out of anyone besides Johnny, he probably did. “Does it have anything to do with a mission taking place tomorrow?” Price finally looked up to meet his gaze head on.

“Send me with her.”

“Simon-“

“Send. Me. With. Her.”

A tense silence filled the air while the two men stared each other down before price shook his head softly. “No.”

“No? Price this could be a dangerous mission.” But the captain no longer seemed to be listening. “Sir she’s in no condition to go on a mission.”

“Is that the real reason you came here? To talk about her wellbeing?” Simon went silent at the look Price leveled him with. “Do you not trust her?”

“Of course I do-“

“Do you not trust that she is a good soldier that can get the job done?”

“Yes but-“

“Then this conversation is finished. She leaves early tomorrow morning so I suggest you get yourself together Simon.” Price was glaring at him like a father scolding his son. Like he knew Simon was the reason you weren’t doing amazingly.

“What is it for?” He finally asked, fists clenched at his sides while he resisted the urge to sit there and demand he go on this mission.

Price shook his head. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Just tell me if this is a suicide mission.” His jaw clenched painfully as he tried to keep his eyes clear of emotion. “Please.”

“Simon.” Price sighed in slight frustration. “She’s only going in for some intel. She’ll be fine.”

Simon nodded stiffly after a moment and as he was turning to leave Price called out to him. “I’d at least talk with her before she leaves Simon.”

He didn’t acknowledge that he heard him, just continued out the door and mindlessly walked the rest of the way to his room where he would be for the next coming hours.

Hours later He could hear the moment everyone was starting to head to bed. It was well into the night by now and he knew that but he couldn’t sleep. His mind was racing with thoughts of you. He hated himself for how much pain he’s put you through.

He reached for his phone and immediately went to your contact. His thumb hovered over the call button but he never pressed it. He never got the chance to because in the next second his phone started vibrating and your name appeared.

The shock lasted for the first rings before he answered it but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He didn’t want to hurt you more but he could hear it, the desperation, the love you still held for him even after everything.

He knew then just exactly what he wanted.

So The moment you confessed to him that you couldn’t sleep without him, he was already sitting up in bed getting his shoes on.

The moment you realized he wasn’t going to verbally answer you and you hung up he was already halfway to your room. Wearing your favorite hoodie of his.

The moment you opened the door and your eyes met and your voice called his name softly, his entire body just wanted to kneel to the floor in front of you and beg for forgiveness.

The moment he had you cradled in his arms and had you whispering that you missed him he felt whatever resolve he had, built up in the time apart, crumble.

He couldn’t believe just how far you dug yourself into his heart until he finally felt you against him after not speaking for so long. It was his fault, he knew that. He knew he was the one who broke whatever was going on off.

He knew he was the reason there never was an official relationship to break off in the first place. Just a line drawn that you both kept tiptoeing the day you met, never crossing the boundary of being friends or more.

And as he laid there, carding his fingers softly through your hair the way he knew you liked, he couldn’t help but think about the moment that got him into this mess. Sometimes he wished he turned you away more. Or at least kept his distance better.

But it didn’t matter now.

Simon didn’t want to go to sleep, not when he was enjoying watching you breathe softly as you curled yourself further against him.

He considered the fact that he should leave, let you sleep and not wake up to the reality that he was in bed with you again, a reality he was sure you would regret when you were more alert again.

But as he moved to try and slowly get off the bed you were suddenly wide awake and grabbing onto his arm. “Why are you leaving?” Your voice was groggy but he could hear the hint of fear and hurt in it at his actions. “Do you hate me that much?”

“What? Hate you?” Immediately he relaxed back into his spot and looked you straight in the eyes. How could you ever think he hated you? “I don’t hate you.”

“Then please,” your eyes were pleading with him. “Please don’t go.” The weight of your words settled on his heart and it felt like you were asking him for more than just to simply help you sleep.

A tense silence settled over the two of you as you practically stared into his soul. He opened his mouth to relent when you spoke again. “I love you Simon.”

He felt his breathing go completely still. Your words sounded like you couldn’t hold them to yourself any longer. “I’ve loved you since the first week we met. Even when you pushed me away, even when I wanted to kill you. I’ve loved you.” The more you talked the more he was sure his heart wouldn’t start again.

He could feel the moment when you started pulling away from him after he took too long to respond. He could feel you slipping through his fingers again and he couldn’t let it happen again not this time.

In an instant one of his arms wrapped around you and pulled you tightly against him while the other went to his mask and pulled it off.

He didn’t give you the chance to even take him in before he was pulling you to him, his lips landing on yours in a desperate first kiss.

A kiss that flooded you with every emotion he was withholding from you this whole time. A kiss that he had been wanting to feel ever since the first time he felt your lips ghost his.

The hand that was on your back moved to grip your hip as he sat up just slightly to kiss you harder. The hand holding his mask went to rest beside your head so he could hold himself better while he felt your hands everywhere like you were exploring something for the first time. Which you were.

Your hands were in his hair, dragging down his cheeks and jaw before gripping his neck to pull him impossibly closer. Only breaking when you ran out of breathe but he didn’t move far.

You stared at him, gasping in breathes while he looked at you like it was the first time all over again. “I love you too. I’m sorry for ever making you feel like I didn’t. I always have.” He said it softly like he was making sure only you would ever hear those words leave his mouth.

You smiled gently and brought him in for a softer kiss before he muttered against them, “come back to me tomorrow yeah?” You could only nod as he gave you one more kiss before falling back onto his side and pulling you into him.

His mask long gone on the floor and his heart content when you buried your face in his neck, sighing happily.

And true to your promise, you came straight back to him after your mission a few days later.

~~

Really hope yall liked this🙏🏻😭

Also! Johnnys part two next and I’ve made the executive decision that Rudy is coming after that 😋

[unhonest-iago]

Where Am I? Who Am I?

AO3 link - this was written for the hermitcraft guess the author 2024 event. do go check out the other authors as found in the AO3 collection.

Etho awoke a random summer's day to unfamiliar surroundings. It wasn't his usual base build. Instead, he found himself in a green bedspread with an accompanying nightstand stacked high with romance books. All the titles in Japanese. Startled, he decided to search around. See if he could find any more information as to where he had suddenly been transported to. Not knowing how he'd fallen asleep, was the moon still growing?

'Yikes,' Etho realized exactly where he was after recognizing the figure in the bathroom window. One less pixelated than it should be. His jacket no longer baring the Canadian flag emblem on the sleeve. Nor did his headband. A headband that was more of an eye patch if he was honest. Instead, it was a symbol that looked to be an abstract bird. A beak with a swirl branching off of it. Etho tried to recall everything he knew about the Naruto series. What arc even is this? Unfortunately he’d have to interact with the other characters to figure out.

Etho wasn’t the only one. Kakashi awoke to a pixelated wooden house. Did his vision get this bad overnight? Looking down, he was relieved to see his uniform still intact. But like Etho, he noted the difference in emblems. Lucky for him, Etho wasn’t involved in any big plans. Their personalities similar in that they were both aloof individuals. If only he had his books, Kakashi wistfully thought to himself.

The Hermits, one by one would eventually have the epiphany that something was off with their friend. ‘I asked him if he could fix the meal bone farm…it’s almost as if he short circuited,’ Iskall remarked to Grian. Telling him more about how “Etho” fell off their base, completely forgetting about the waterfall elevator. Going berserk with the belief that he only had one life.

'Have you noticed anything weird about Kakashi-Sensei?' Sakura reluctantly asked Naruto. 'Besides him not reading those boring novels? Not really.' Sakura on the other hand had noticed the change in “Kakashi's” demeanor. The man was more jovial, more talkative. Sakura decided that if a doppelganger had replaced their sensei, the best course of action would be to ask something that only their sensei would. But what? Oh, those pesky books. Kakashi would definitely know the plot lines backwards and forwards. Especially as it'd been one of his notable traits since they had first met. But Sakura didn't know anything about them. All the more reason to ask.

'Hey Sensei? What happened in the last volume of Make Out Tactics?' Naruto sputtered out in shock, 'but you weren't interested when I offered to explain last week! Ow! What was that for?' Sakura kicked his shin, trying to get him to shut up. Etho had zero clue. All he knew was that they were some erotica series and that he should act bashful. 'Uh, well, I don't think that's something I should be telling you, at your age,' Etho hoped his acting was up to par. Rather, it cemented what Sakura thought. If it had been their sensei, he wouldn't be able to form a coherent answer at all.

It's when the moon glows larger in the pixelated sky for the final time that the two are returned back to their respective places. Sakura is stuck as the only one aware. Later being gas lit by both Naruto and Kakashi who is actually Kakashi again. Simply told it was a figment of overactive chakras. Kakashi wants to leave it in the past and never mentions the horrors he had witnessed. Fighting against multiple creatures—mobs as the celestial body rose higher on the horizon. Iskall on the other hand confronts Etho which results in him divulging everything from the moment he woke up to the moment he returned. Glad to be back in his mountainous base.

[film-in-my-soul]

Hard to be Soft | 2,546 | stereobone / @stereobone

Summary: Eddie's had sex on a bed before. A lot, actually. Face down, usually, sheets dirty, barely able to breathe, someone holding him bruise-tight and pressing his face into the mattress. But Steve, Steve kisses him soft, hands caught up in his hair. Not to pull, just to feel him, or something. Steve kisses Eddie like he wants to keep him.

The Best Remedy | 3,098 | beetlesandstars / @beetlesandstarss

Summary: “Wanna get off with you,” Eddie murmurs like he’s admitting something dirty, something forbidden. “Yeah?” Steve breathes. “But,” Eddie smoothes his shaky hands down Steve’s back. “I think I might pop and die immediately.”

better in the dark | 3,242 | AO3 / Anonymous

Summary: Now Steve can smile what he’s been told is his sexiest smile. “Does that mean you’ll want to do it again?” He mimes checking his watch, even though his watch is somewhere on Eddie's bedroom floor. “Because not to brag or anything, but I’ve been known to go a few rounds in a night. Give me, like, half an hour, maybe twenty minutes.” “Well, I’ll be,” says Eddie. He looks adorable and extraordinarily fuckable with a blush staining his cheeks. “Will Harringtonian wonders never cease.”

Do Me, Baby | 3,285 | beetlesandstars / @beetlesandstarss

Summary: Steve takes a breath, fiddling with the phone cord. "Look, tell me to shut up, but, um. I could, like… help you?” A pause. Then, voice disbelieving, Eddie says, "Help me?" “Yeah, like, talk you through it.” Steve cringes. He sounds so stupid. Hi, Eddie! Want me to teach you how to jerk off again?

go ahead, go way low (in my honey-lovin' arms) | 3,558 | Gorgeousgreymatter / @gorgeousgreymatter-x

Summary: Honestly, there is a small (maybe not that small part) of Eddie that’s expecting to get punched for this, but that’s not what Steve does. Eddie’s pretty sure it’s not loud enough for anyone else to hear, thankfully, over the sound of whatever explosions were currently playing out on the screen in front of them, but Eddie does. A breathy little noise, almost like a purr, when Eddie’s nails just barely skitter over Steve’s scalp. Interesting. 

Please see below for more recommendations!

ink you up | 4,560 | Adure / @toburnup

Summary: "It looks good." Steve takes in the fine black lines, notes how the skin is raised and red. Figures it must be new. "When did you get it?" "Oh, I did it last night." Steve looks back up to Eddie in surprise. "You did it? Like to yourself?" He laughs, tosses his empty into the sink. "Hell yeah. Why not?" Steve drains his own and leans back. "I could never." "I could ink you up." Eddie looks at him like he's assessing, eyes trailing from fingertips back up to shoulders and then up to his eyes. "Would be a good look for you."

memorize my number, that's why I got a phone | 4,581 | QueerOnTilMorning

Summary: "So how have the shows been going? Score any groupies yet?" Shit. Eddie's never going to get a better opening than that, is he? He laughs, high and breathless, his heart beating a stampede from his chest up to his throat. "Actually, that's an interesting question, Steve, and it brings me to an important point. Something I've been wanting to talk to you about for a while, some relevant information I should probably divulge, but I thought it might be prudent to wait until I was out of punching range." "Sometimes I can't keep up when you talk," Steve says. "You wanted to tell me something?" "Yeah. Yes. I absolutely did, and I'm going to tell you. Right now." Eddie twists his rings around his fingers, takes a deep breath, and says, "I'm gay, Steve." "Oh," says Steve, and Eddie dies a thousand deaths, each more intricate and painful than being eaten by demobats. Then Steve says, "Boy groupies, then?"

hands of loving | 5,397 | kafkian / @kafkian

Summary: ‘Proud owner of twenty years pent-up hormones and counting.’ Eddie sighed, looking up at the sky and muttering something under his breath that Steve didn’t catch. Steve was so surprised he stopped walking. ‘What?’ Eddie loudly didn't say anything, continuing on their route. When Steve caught up to him, he was bright red in the face. ‘No way,’ Steve said, stunned. ‘You’re a virgin?’ Eddie rolled his eyes. ‘Shut up, man.’ ‘No, I didn’t mean – just. Really?’ Steve asked. ‘You've really never ...?’ ‘I run a DnD group, got held back in school twice, and live in a trailer with my uncle,’ Eddie said flatly. ‘What part of that screams dick magnet to you?’

In the Woods Somewhere | 5,526 | AidaRonan / @aidaronan

Summary: Steve grew up hearing campfire stories about the Black Woods Monster. He just never expected it to be real (or for it to want to seduce him.)

Eddie's Spectacular, Awkward, Very Safe, Very Fun First Time | 5,557 | alligator_writes / @riality-check

Summary: "Though he’s never had it, Eddie thinks sex will be its own kind of story. He has three (3) thoughts in that moment: 1. He’s hard. 2. Steve’s hard. 3. He wants to ram Steve into a mattress, like, yesterday."

I'll Be Your Captain | 6,029 | plutosrose / @plutosrose & yammz / @yammz

Summary: When Steve gets out of the bathroom, he gets exactly five seconds before Eddie is crowding him against the wall. “Why are you dressed like a Playboy centerfold?” Eddie reaches out to run his fingers along the ascot like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Were you a stripper at one point and just forgot to mention it?” “This was what we had to wear every day at that stupid job,” Steve manages, feeling a little like he might drown in Eddie’s intense and focused gaze. “Making three dollars an hour.”

Anything Goes in the Winnebago | 6,207 | ChronicRabbit

Summary: “Harrington’s got her. Don’tcha, Big boy?” That’s what Eddie had said to him with that huge shit-eating grin he always seemed to flash after one of his cheeky little jokes. Because it was a joke. There was no reason for Steve’s heart to thud in his chest like it was trying to escape the prison of his ribs. He was so fucked.

Scorpio Moons | 6,377 | Oonionchiver / @azrielgreen

Summary: ‘Hi.’ Eddie flinches hard, tries to back up but he’s already pressed into the wall so he just sort of bangs his head. ‘Ow, hi, hello, um, sorry.’ It’s Steve. Steve Harrington is standing in front of him. Eddie reverts back to a single celled organism. ‘Sorry for what?’ ‘Sorry?’ Steve blinks, gives a little smile. ‘My bad, start again?’ ‘S-sorry?’ Eddie would actually rather be a single celled organism.

At a medium pace | 7,147 | dartlekey / @dartlekey

Summary: "Okay, okay, fine. Jeez. You're not stupid, man, I'm stupid. And a baby." "As you said." "As I said," Eddie agrees, and takes a deep breath, "and I'm also a liar, because I didn't pop those stitches falling out of bed, actually." Steve blinks, mercifully leaning back. "No?" "Nope," Eddie presses out. "Actually, I was, uh." He forces himself to exhale, and says, "I was trying to rub one out." Steve stares at him. "What?" "You know," Eddie says nervously. "Crankin' the hog. Whacking off. Jerkin' the gerkin. Stroking the one-eyed snake -" "No I got that," Steve says, and Eddie immediately shuts up, "you're saying that's how you tore your sutures?" "Yes." "By -" "Yep." "Oh my God," Steve says faintly, then starts laughing.

So Newly Charming | 7,604 | glorious_spoon / @glorious-spoon

Summary: Eddie leans against the van to peer over his shoulder as he connects the leads. He’s close enough that Steve can smell him; close enough that he can feel the shift of air on the side of his neck as Eddie breathes. If it were one of the kids, he’d shove them off and reassert his personal space, but it’s never really bothered him when it’s Eddie. It’s distracting, but Eddie is always kind of distracting. Steve doesn’t mind.

Can you pass this to Steve? | 7,772 | Thisusernameisunavailable

Summary: Note passing goes awry for Eddie when a simple prank goes a little too far.

t'hy'la | 8,036 | sparklyslug / @sparklyslug

Summary: “Because of biology,” Steve supplies, trying to steer this thing back on track. “Because of Vulcan biology,” Eddie sighs, and seems to give in. “Okay,” Steve says slowly, “But what–” “Because of Vulcan sexual biology,” Eddie grits out, and puts his face back in his hands. So he misses how Steve goes bright red, thankfully. Given how the tips of Eddie’s ears are a vibrant green, he’s in a similar situation. “Oh, well,” Steve clears his throat. “No shame in that, Ensign,” god, he’s fallen back on rank now, if Eddie wasn’t so clearly a mess he would absolutely make sure that Steve never lived it down. He attempts a laugh, his mouth dry. “The birds and the bees do it, after all.” “Fuck youuuu,” Eddie groans, parting his fingers to stare balefully at Steve. “The birds and bees aren’t Vulcans, Steve.”

come get your man (he got lost in my DMs) | 8,446 | hexiewrites / @hexiewrites

Summary: It’s weird because it’s not that weird. Actually, the weirdest thing about it is the guy seems to be commenting from an account with his entire name attached. It’s just weird for Eddie to open up his notifications and see: Steve_Harrington replied to your video: Great job, this was really excellent. Loved the way your pitch changed subtly to indicate that Aeilin was turned on! Which. Again. Weird for multiple reasons.

600 Square Feet | 9,412 | InkandOwl / @sfintii

Summary: There’s no response from Steve and Eddie is contemplating swapping out his bun for donuts when Steve starts laughing. A full bodied laugh that has him pressing his wrist to his mouth to keep from losing his lunch all over the car and Eddie finds himself smiling despite his confusion. “Are you— Are you experiencing a medical event? What’s happening here?” Steve chokes down some water and sighs, “My parents really sold me on this idea that I was gonna get out of school, go to college for business, take over for my dad, live in some— some mansion on a lake.” He gestures between them, “And now i’m waiting on tourists and sharing table scraps with Eddie Munson.” Eddie huffs out a small laugh, “Bit of a downgrade, huh?” “Are you kidding me?” Steve shoves his fingers through his hair, “This is— kind of perfect, actually.”

the moon changes colour | 9,647 | jk_rockin / @jkrockin

Summary: Steve gets bitten by a strange dog one hot summer night. It takes him a month, and a little outside help, to work out what's wrong with him.

Master Reclist · Personal Masterlist · Blog Nav.

[whumpbump]

Inspired by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor

Prompt #2624

“You’re a failure.”

“Yeah. But I’m ok with that.”

Whumpee woke up for the first time without screaming in days. The sun filtered through onto Whumpee’s blanket and danced as the wind tickled the curtains. ‘Today will be a good day.’

Caretaker helped Whumpee get washed and dressed. They sat together in a calm silence as music played quietly in the background.

A knock shattered the peacefulness. “W-were you expecting someone?” Whumpee hated how their voice cracked in fear.

Caretaker, before answering the door, mentally prepared themself for whoever could be there while peering through the peephole. It was Whumpee’s Team Leader. Looking back at Whumpee in confusion, they opened the door so they could all see each other.

Team Leader shifted uncomfortably in their spot. “Uh. Hi. Caretaker. Whumpee. It’s been awhile. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me but there are some things I’d like to speak about today if possible.”

Whumpee nodded and waved Team Leader in.

“I’ll make tea.” Caretaker shuffled off to the kitchen quickly, clattering around as they grabbed mugs and the kettle.

“Whumpee, I know I haven’t seen you since your last mission, I’ve been kept so busy with retraining the team and paperwork that I just couldn’t make it to the hospital.”

“Um, I was in the hospital and then rehab for a total of 8 weeks.”

“Yyyeeeaaahhh,” Team Leader dragged out their answer, “I really wasn’t able to have any extra time and your screw up lost the Team any off-base privileges for a month.”

“Sorry - my screw up?”

Realizing what had just come out of their mouth, Team Leader shut their eyes and mentally cursed themself for letting it slip.

Sighing, they doubled down. “Yeah. Your screw up. If you didn’t get cold feet when I told you to run, you wouldn’t have been caught, you wouldn’t have been beaten in interrogation, we wouldn’t have had to waste time and resources on trying to find yo-“

“I escaped on my own. You wasted your time and resources for nothing.” Whumpee interrupted, losing patience with this impromptu meeting.

“Which we didn’t know. You failed to notify the Team or even the Organization that you’d escaped and didn’t need further assistance.”

Fuming, Whumpee spit through clenched teeth, “I needed help. I asked for extra training. Do you remember what you told me? Actually, let me remind you because I’ll never forget it. You said ‘If you need extra training, then you shouldn’t be on this team’ -“

“I was giving you tough love. You could’ve succeeded, y’know. If you would’ve just listened to me, you were on the track to promotion for First Officer.”

“Well that doesn’t matter anymore does it? I can only assume you came to take back my badge and key swipe, yes?”

“Yes.”

Whumpee groaned while standing, and crutched their way to the bedroom. Returning with the items needed, they dropped them on the table within reach of Team Leader.

Not ready to let go of antagonizing their former teammate, Team Leader pressed on. “So are you enjoying your cushy new lifestyle?”

“Yeah, actually, it’s much better than the one I had before.” Whumpee stared at Team Leader with a neutral expression, tired of the conversation and Team Leader’s lack of niceties, if lack meant never having any at all.

Flustered by Whumpee’s calm demeanor to what should have crushed them, Team Leader reached into their memories back to a counseling session in which Whumpee had divulged their biggest fear.

“You’re a failure.”

“Yeah. But I’m ok with that.”

Team Leader’s mouth opened and closed. That was Whumpee’s biggest hurdle. Their greatest motivator. Team Leader knew they could hold it over their head and get the results they wanted. This is not how their exit interview was supposed to turn out. They would not be made a fool by their subordinate.

Opening their mouth to speak, they were cut off by Whumpee.

“I know you thought I would be hurt by you saying that. I did too, but I’m not hurt. I’m relieved. I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry anymore about whether I’ll live or die at any given moment, that you have no power over me anymore, that Caretaker has my back. Like, actually has my back.”

“Well congratulations. I’ll be going.”

Team Leader picked up the badge and key swipe and shut the door behind them.

Entering the room, Caretaker brought basket of tea bags. “I have LOTS of flavors to choose from, wh-hey where’s Team Leader?”

“They couldn’t stay. They just came by to collect my badge and stuff.”

“Oh. Oh Whumpee, I’m so sorry. I know being on that Team meant a lot to you.”

“It was nothing but status and danger. I’m much happier here with you. And I’ll have Darjeeling, thanks.”

[aceofnace]

Nancy’s Feelings for Ace

Nancy told Ace that the first time she realized she had feelings for him was during the dreamscape with the wraith, because that was her official “oh” moment, but as a viewer we know she had feelings for him long before that, even if she didn’t know it. The first real signs for us were her obvious jelly feelings as she watched Ace flirt with Amanda in 2x07 and her mind immediately jumping to Ace when she heard the sentence “the one with the pretty eyes” in 2x08. But really, it goes even further back than that.

Nick asking Ace in the last episode if it was ever really only friendship and nothing more between him and Nancy got me thinking back to the very beginning. And to be honest, I don’t think it ever was only friendship. For either one of them.

We know now that Ace had a crush on Nancy in high school. So naturally, when she started working at The Claw, that crush returned right away (even if he also had a crush on Bess at the time). And we know Nancy met Nick and it was lust at first sight and she immediately embarked on a physical relationship with him soon after. This all happened before the show began. What else happened before the show began and it’s one of the first things Nancy tells us about Ace when her narration introduces us to him?

The smoke break.

Upon first viewing, it feels like an unimportant throwaway line. A piece of information that could just as easily have been left out. But it wasn’t. Why? Because I think that smoke break, a moment we’ve never gotten to see, was when Nancy’s feelings for Ace actually started.

Think about it for a second. We know that Nancy has always found Ace attractive. When she hears the term “pretty eyes”, she’s like “Who, Ace?” When she’s under the spell of a lust dress, she lets it slip out that she’s always imagined how soft his hair would be. In as early as episode 1x02, she’s placing a hand on his shoulder for no reason while she talks and she doesn’t let go until she’s done. He may not have necessarily been on her radar in high school like she was on his, but he certainly was as soon as she started working at The Claw.

So, now that we have obvious physical attraction out of the way, that smoke break. We know very little about it. The most of what we do know about it is made up from the minds of countless fans who’ve written their own fan fic version of it (myself included). But the one canon thing about it, the thing Nancy told us herself, was that he didn’t judge her for tanking her grades after her mom died. And how did he even know about that? Because she told him.

Nancy Drew, who at the start of the show was the queen of high emotional walls who didn’t like divulging personal information to anyone, divulged some pretty personal information to this boy she barely knew (and even though it’s never discussed again, there’s a pretty good chance that wasn’t the only smoke break they ever spent together). Meanwhile, she was hooking up with Nick and even sorta calling herself his girlfriend, but any time he tried to get her to open up and talk about anything, she shut him down immediately.

I feel like this is something that should be discussed more. The fact that she was able to so quickly and comfortably share stuff like this with Ace and nobody else is a huge deal. And in the beginning, it’s completely overlooked because Nancy’s love interest was Nick, and then after they broke up, Owen was next in line. For most of season one, she did not outwardly show any significant interest in Ace as anything more than a stranger–turned–co-worker–turned–sleuthing buddy–turned–close friend. But that interest was there.

And why wouldn’t it be? As I already mentioned, Nancy was always physically attracted to Ace. She knew from before the show began that he was a good listener and easy to talk to. And then early on when she learned about his hacking abilities, she saw how smart he was. Soon after that, she learned how loyal and dedicated he was. The boy risked his entire future to break her father out of prison, and he did so without her even asking him to. He willingly drank what could’ve been poison to prove she was right and to keep her from getting arrested. Every time she called, he answered. Every time she needed help or needed a favor, he delivered. How could she not possibly fall for him?

So, she did fall for him. Most likely even in season one. It was evident during the library scene where they were reading Ryan and Lucy’s emails out loud. Hearing Ace say things like “I think I love you too” and “I want to be with you, I don’t care what anyone else says” made her feel something, hence the look the two of them share afterward. But here’s the thing: if Nancy recognized that feeling at all, she would have shoved it down so far and so fast because that feeling was something real. Something more than she was used to feeling. And that scared her.

Nick was a distraction from the grief over her mother’s death. Owen was also a distraction from that grief, as well as from her break-up with Nick. Ace wasn’t a distraction. He was a friend. A confidant. Someone she could rely on. Someone she could count on under any circumstances. This kind of relationship with a guy was one she wasn’t accustomed to. And she knew that it could someday lead to something more serious—something she most definitely wasn’t ready for.

In 2x10, while under the spell of the lust dress, Nancy theorized out loud that perhaps the dress was intensifying feelings of attraction she already had but was repressing, and she said it while turning and looking directly at Ace. Keep in mind that (somehow) 2x10 in the timeline is not that far from where they were in season one, so to assume those repressed feelings started in season one is not that much of a stretch. And looking back, even starting within the first few episodes of the series, you can clearly see she has always been drawn to him in a very subconscious way. She would always stand so close their arms would almost touch. She would lean closely over his shoulder when he was on his laptop, their faces sometimes only mere inches apart. She would practically bump into him while walking side-by-side. She’s always had this unrealized need to be near him. To be close to him. And he’s the only one. I challenge anyone to find scenes that show her casually existing so closely next to Nick, Owen, Gil, Park or even now Tristan. You can’t. Because they don’t exist.

And this makes sense. Canonically, they are soulmates. And that would explain why Ace could simply see her make a volcano erupt in high school and develop feelings for her. It would explain why since day one, Nancy has had a bond with Ace that she’s never had with anyone else. And I know the writers say that Nace wasn’t the plan from the beginning, and I do believe that, but somehow, they inadvertently set it up perfectly for these characters to end up in the situation they’re in right now: desperately in love and desperate to be together. They are each other’s person. And they always have been from the very start.

To go back to what they were before would just be staying the same. They’ve never been just friends. And the sooner Ace can admit that to himself, the sooner they can get back to trying to break that curse and securing their future together.

[instexcamera]

Hi UM can I request some brat!Natsume x dom!reader punishing with one of those fuck machines and degrading him until he's mindbroken?

Have a great day

Ooo my first request, and of course!

Brat!Natsume x GN Dom!Reader

Warnings: Overstimulation, Sub character, Degradation

Note: I'm sorry it took a little while to make this, I'm sick currently but I tried my best to get it out fast. I also hope you enjoy it as I tried my best with it but brats are hard to write for me hhh. I also hope I did Natsume justice as I have never written him.

18+ Under the Cut

Low whirring sounds flow from the machine as it fucks into Natsume at a slow pace. Even though it was set on the lowest setting you had to keep one hand on Natsume's knee, forcing him to keep his legs spread open. He gazes at you defiantly, a smug smirk on his lips. The urge to wipe that look off his face fills you, this was supposed to be a punishment for his jealously, he shouldn't still be acting so disobedient. The only cracks in his facade are the small shivers that run though his body every time the toy thrusts deep, or how he has to hold himself back from making noises.

"You're failING, what type of punishment is thiS? It's not working on meeah-" He cuts off with an unwanted moan as you had had enough of his teasing, choosing to turn the machine up to its highest level for a moment to shut him up. It works as Natsume's legs start to tremble more frequently and his eyes roll to the back of his head, his mouth opening slighty. You divulge in the sight for a moment before returning the machine back to its slow pace. Natsumes eyes going back to normal as his body relaxes, his expression now one of annoyance.

"I didn't actually enjoy thaT, I faked it for your own amuseMENT. " Staring at him for a second, noticing how he acts like this isn't affecting him. Yet those small signs are still noticeable no matter how much he tries to not let them show. You can feel his thighs still trembling ever so slightly underneath your fingertips, the way his face is starting to become a flushed red color. But you decide you'll play his little game, if he wants to act like a brat he can be treated like one.

Turning the machine off and removing your hand from him, he has nothing to gain any sort of friction now and annoyance shows on his face. Now that all stimulation was gone from him he was completely at your mercy, even more so than before. His cock, you realize dripping precum, the tip a deep red color. He wanted to cum you could tell but his pride of not wanting to be caught begging was winning, however you would change that before long. Leaning over him, and using your hand to grab his cheeks, forcing him to look you directly in the eyes.

"If you want more, beg. I already know you're just a pleasure loving slut who just can't take it when my attentions on another guy that isn't you. So come on, beg, don't be shy, you weren't earlier when you cussed out Tsumugi were you?"

Tsumugi was the reason he was like this in the first place, he couldn't handle seeing you give him a kiss on the cheek. You knew that Natsume's relationship with him wasn't the best, but he still somewhat liked Tsumugi, but that kiss seemed to have went too far for him. Natsume looks as if he regrets it now, deciding between if he wants to keep his pride up or be able to cum.

You pull your hand away from him and his face drops as he seemly stares down at his stomach, his shirt pushed up around his waist. It's not too long before you hear some mumbling coming from Natsume, his hands clenched tightly together. "I'm a jealous slut only for yoU, and I constantly want my hole to be filled with your cocK." Moving back down to be right next to him you whisper "Can you repeat that? I didn't hear you." He immediately turns to look at you as those words leave you, "I know you diD, your just enjoying thiS." His golden brown eyes continue to glare at you for a few more seconds until he finally gives up, realizing that he won't gain any touch unless he says it louder.

"I'm just a jealous dirty sluT, I can't handle not being filled and I need yoU-" Your finger presses down the button that makes the machine start up, at full force. Natsume, not thinking you'd start it while he was talking taken by surprise. His head bangs back onto the headboard and you feel bad about it only for a moment. His eyes start to unfocus and his body rocks back and forth from the force of the machine. His legs start to close and your quick to push them down, you can feel his muscles straining underneath your hands. The slapping sound from the machine meeting his ass isn't loud enough to block the high pitched whines leaving Natsume as the toy rams into his prostate over and over.

Natsume's precum is dripping down his cock in larger amounts, and the way his body strains against the machine and the increasing pitch of his moans signals he's close. Thinking of stopping the machine right before he orgasms takes form but is quickly pushed away when his moans reach a beautiful crescendo. You feel his thighs start to tremble more violently and a second later long white ropes of cum spurt out of his cock, landing on his chest, and dripping down to his stomach.

Letting go of his thighs and sliding your hand up his body, not bothering to slow the machine as it continues to thrust into him as forcefully as it can. Feeling his body twitch with the aftershocks of his orgasm, and the constant movement from the machine you gather some of his spend on your fingertips. You bring your fingers up to his lips and slip them past his open mouth. His eyes are glazed over likely from the after effects from his orgasm but you expect over stimulation to kick in soon. You watch as his mouth closes around your fingers, sucking his own cum off of them.

His eyes move to meet yours and you slide your fingers out of his mouth so he could speak. "Why aren't you stopping iT? It hurTS, it hurts so gooD." His voice comes out in different pitches, the machines thrusting starting to affect him more than you thought as overstimulation starts to kick in. You only smile at him as you let the machine keep up its pace, he deserved to be over stimulated. Broken moans fall from his lips as you look down towards the machine, realizing that Natsume's cock is still hard dispite cumming a minute ago.

"You're still hard? You must be more of a whore than I thought, but that's fine, I'll give you more pleasure than your body can handle." Natsume's response is pained whimpers, but you don't want him too fucked out of his mind just yet, he still had to answer some questions. Turning the machine down to a medium setting so pleasure is always present, you hear him let out a relieved moan, yet his body still twitches from deep thrusts onto his prostate.

Grabbing his cheeks once again, you force his head to turn to look at you. His eyes are starting glaze over and his mouth hangs over ever so slightly. However he quickly attempts to looks serious. "You want to apologize to me for interrupting my conversation with Tsumugi with your jealousy? I let you have an orgasm, not that you deserved it." He quickly sneers at you, however the effect doesn't work as well as he hopes with the position he's in. "I don't have to apologize for anythING. Tsumugi didn't care anywaYS, and I was not jealOUS." You sigh, of course he wouldn't admit it that easily, however you could get him too.

You wonder if causing him to orgasm over and over would make him admit it, he would enjoy it no matter how much he may deny it. He already looks on the verge of another, however the amount of stimulation he's getting not enough to push him over the edge just yet. Running your hand down his chest towards his cock, taking it in your hand, starting to jerk him off slowly. The feeling causes him to bite his lip as he glares at you, you'll try again to get to him to answer in a way you want. "I know you're just a jealous slut who only wants my attention you even admitted it, so why won't you say it again?" He stays quiet, you could see shame run through his eyes at your words, he knows you're right, he just wants to be difficult.

You could feel him twitch in your hand, your words turning him on more than he wanted to admit. "Oh, I feel your cock begging for release in my hand, even if you don't admit it yourself your body clearly knows how much of a jealous cock hungry bitch you are. " He still doesn't respond, choosing to continue biting his lip. You'd get him to admit it again. Turning the machine to high once again, not having any plan to turn it down this time until he's begging you, you'd break his stubborn behavior by having him too drunk on pleasure.

Natsume stops biting his lip immediately, the pleasure overtaking him, his head once again knocks back, his body starting to rock roughly again. You watch as his stomach visibly clenches and you feel his cock once again release. His whines filling the air, almost louder than the slapping sounds echoing throughout the room. There's not as much of the sticky white fluid this time as it mixes with his last spend with more soon to join it.

You smirk as you let go of his cock, still painfully hard as small amounts of cum dribble out of his angry red tip. You move towards his head, watching the flush on his face spread down to his chest as his body starts to tremble even more violently from the aftershocks. "Too mucH, too mucH." His eyes have tears in them as he stares at you, however they're becoming more unfocused by the second, you just smile down at him. His hands grip the bed sheets as his back arches, his eyes widening a little as another orgasm takes him by surprise. Laughing a little at his reaction you wonder if you've been successful in fucking his brattiness out of him.

"Are you sorry about interrupting me? Are you going to say you're a dumb attention whore? You must already know that I'm right, your little mind can't seem to comprehend anything but reaching your next orgasm right now." Natsume can't even turn to look at you as he nods, the overstimulation muddling his mind up. "I'm sorRY, I'm sorRY. I'm a dumb jealous slut who can't do anything but think about cummING." You laugh a little to yourself, he looks absolutely ruined now that he finally admitted it. He didn't even look like he comprehended what he said, his mind to hazed over by the continuous thrusting.

"You finally admitted it, and all it took was having a machine fuck you stupid. Doesn't this just prove what you said?" He nods along to what you're saying, and increasingly loud whines leave him as he cums again, less than last time, you wonder how many more he can take before nothing comes out anymore.

You make no move to slow down the machine, only running your hand across his forehead, wiping his bangs away that are stuck there. He doesn't seem to be able to form coherent sentences anymore, much less thoughts, only small I'm sorrys leaving him. His cock still hard, sways back and forth with his body from the machines continuous thrusting. You decide to see how much more he can take before either shooting blanks or passing out.

You wonder how he'll act when he comes back to his senses, how pissed he'll be. You know he won't be able to walk tomorrow from how hard you have this machine fucking into him. But for now you can only watch as the machine fucks into him.

[infernalodie]

𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 || 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤

“𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘨𝘰, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘣𝘦 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘺 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶“

Inspo: Daniel Caesar - Blessed

Summary: She needed to know she was blessed to have you...

Warnings: Angst and some very comfy fluff

Words: 1419

“Why do your parents treat me like royalty?” Milly asked, smoothing out her dress in the mirror.

You waved your arm, scoffing quietly. “They grew up in Atlanta. Hearing someone with an accent like yours makes them jump to conclusions. They think you qualify as the Queen of England-“ you stopped yourself when seeing her peek her head out of the bathroom, parted lips of shock with the corners tilted upwards in a smile. “-which you are in my eyes, of course.”

“I’m not even English. I’m fuckin’ Australian, Y/n,” she commented, giggling.

“Oh, I know,” you chuckled. “But if you don’t speak with an American accent, you might as well be royalty and my family gets a bit excessive when that happens.”

“Has it happened before?” Milly stepped out of the bathroom, now bare of the dress with nothing else to hide your intrusive gaze. Something she quickly picked up on, snapping her fingers. “Use your head to give me an answer. Not thinking of ways you plan on trying to keep me up tonight.”

“But baby-“

“Do as your told, honey.” Her lips were pressed in an amused grin, raising an encouraging brow.

Since the dinner with your parents, she hadn’t been able to remove the tickling feeling in her stomach. The butterfly effect always appeared when you looked in her direction, smiling at her with that dreamy look of yours. Or when your hand would caress the inside of her leg, breaking her walls slowly. Because while your mother and father were peppering her with questions, you just traced shapes into her skin, clearly enjoying the way she was fumbling over her words.

She knew how the night would divulge when the two of you got home, but she would play her time.

You sighed, shaking your head. “First girl I actually brought to my parents, my mom immediately started saying “no” and forced her out of the house and demanded I break up with her.”

Milly laughed. “Why?”

“Because she was a white girl and acted like she knew what our life was like and grew up in the hood.” That made Milly fall into giggles, trying to hide her lips with the back of her hand. It was adorable and made you chuckle, biting your bottom lip. “And all of the girls after that I never brought to meet them,” you said. “Well, until you at least.”

Her feet padded against the ground until you felt her pressed against your back. Arms curling around your waist with her lips meeting your back, pressing delicate kisses against ebony skin. Her hands gently ran up and down your stomach, fingers pressing and nails digging wherever she saw fit. It made you stand up straighter, unable to hide the deep groan that bellowed deep in your chest.

“I’m glad,” she whispered, eyes slightly flickering shut as you absorbed the warmth of your skin against hers. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been just waiting to have a moment to ourselves.”

You smiled, folding the pair of dress pants before tossing them to the foot of the bed. “Well, I’m here with you now, honey.” Turning in her hold, you stared adoringly down at the woman. Her eyes sparkled with love. Her touch was a drug. Her voice was a lullaby. Her personality and smile bring light to a room where shadows reached outward.

Taking her face in your hands, you caressed her cheekbones, smiling softly. “God, I fucking love you.”

Milly couldn’t decipher what it was. A blast of warmth hit her face suddenly, making her bottom lip quiver. Eyes tearing up as your smile slowly fell, brows scrunching together. “I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes. “I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so sorry-” Before she could say anything further, you lifted her chin, softly pressing your lips to hers.

She was frozen against you, tense under your warm embrace. But as the seconds passed, she melted against you. Sniffling as she wrapped her arms tightly around your neck, feeling you grab the back of her thighs and lift her off the ground. “I love you.” Your words made her eyes water more. The salty taste of her tears falling to your lips as your hands held her gently. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Slowly lowering her to the bed, you pulled away just enough to stare at her. Milly’s face was red, eyes fluttering as she fought to have them open. But the longer you stared, the more she felt the need to cover herself. In the instant she attempted to do so, you pushed her arms above her head, peppering her body with kisses and bites.

“The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” you praised between kisses. “I love you. I love you so fucking much, Milly. I love you.”

You repeated it over and over again, feeling Milly hold you tighter in a flare of urgency. Her tears stained her cheeks and stung her eyes as you hid your face in her neck. “Say it, baby.”

Milly’s lips trembled. “I love you, Y/n. I love you so much.”

You smiled softly, sitting up. Grabbing the blanket, you placed it around your shoulder, your body creating a makeshift tent for the woman lying beneath you. She was wiping her cheek, sniffling and letting out faint whimpers.

Exhaling softly, you wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her enough to switch spots. Her body immediately sought your warmth, arms coiling around your chest. There were no words spoken. Just the soft strokes of warm hands and soft breaths against skin.

It took a while before you had the courage to speak. Milly’s sniffle converted to soft inhales as she gently massaged your sides. “Why did you start crying?” You asked softly, tilting your head to get a better look at her.

She swallowed thickly, nibbling on her bottom lip with her head adjusting to meet your gaze. And there were the sparkles again, the peppered glitter of tears that hung at the brim of her eyes. A shaky smile appeared as she said, “I thought I would never get to hear you say it,” she confessed. “With the distance, I thought you wouldn’t be sure of continuing what we have.”

Your lips twisted in a sweet smile, eyes softening as you cupped her cheek. “Milly,” you sighed. “You are the most beautiful girl I have met. I couldn’t imagine myself with anyone else. Sure as hell no chick that works at a Hot Topic.”

Milly felt her lips crack into a grin, tucking her face in your chest as she giggled. Feeling you press your lips to the crown of her head and sigh. “I love you, baby. And if you need me to say it every day, I will,” you reassured. “Everywhere I go, if you aren’t there, then I don’t wish to be there. But knowing you’ll be coming home and I can have you for myself makes my love for you grow.”

“Even if it sucks?” Milly inquired gently.

“Even if it sucks,” you repeated, smiling. “I care too much about you to let selfish desires hold you back from your job. And I love you too much to be hung up on things you have no control over.” A soft chuckle fell from your lips as you shook your head. “Baby, I want to come home to you. I want to come home from work and just have you waiting to hold me. Ask me about my day and tell me about yours. But if I have to wait years for that to happen, I can be patient. I just wanna see you shine baby and I will love you no matter what.” 

And it was there that things were eased and Milly allowed herself to smile. Allowing herself to indulge in the love you were giving that she had never been aware was for her. And she felt special. And for the first time in your relationship, she felt deserving of it because you had been putting up with her work schedule since the two of you met. You were willing to work around her times and willing to drop everything to spend an hour with her if that’s all she could give.

But now, she knew that this love you had to offer was special. And for however long she could bask in it, she would enjoy it and hope to pay you back in reciprocated feelings.

[latenightswaudiobooks]

With You Forever

Book 4 In Bergman Brothers Series

What it’s about: After a kiss with her crush (a grumpy self proclaimed recluse) during his family game of charades our heroine tries to distance herself from the Bergman family, but months later needing a get away she takes up her best friends offer on her family's "empty" cabin surprise surprise it's not empty and our hero is between a rock and a hard place. After a night of our hero being a graceful host his friends show up to help solve the problem. They unfortunately unknowingly divulge to our heroine. Now the two characters who are "in lust" with each other are in a fake marriage and living together for the next month while trying to stay as friends and keep it all a secret from his family.

Pages or Run Time: 10 Hours 47 Minutes

⭐ Overall Rating: 7/10 (Not particularly for me but it's still a good book)

🌶️ Spice Rating: 8/10 (More Spice then Book 2!)

Trigger warning for this one! Check the triggers listed in the book! (I never want to list them just in case I miss or forget one!)

Why to Read/Listen: Accurate representation of chronic illness and disabilities (Which I'm starting to think is Chloe's specialty!), sunshine x grumpy (Another one of her specialties! (and one of my favorites)), marriage of convenience (but is that the only reason 👀), the hero and heroine playing house, everyone knows they're in love besides them, and it's another romantic comedy with great banter between almost all the characters!

‼️ Beyond Here Contains Spoilers ‼️

My Thoughts: This one drove me insane, but kind of in a good way? They were just both so clueless towards each others obvious feelings even when others would spell it out for them. Which I guess in retrospect is cute I just was begging for them the whole time to just talk to each other about it. That was because A: They would get so close to doing it and then would stop themselves every time (which I guess could be intentional because one of them did have a thing for edging/depriving themselves which must of been beyond the sexual kind.) Finally though FINALLY they confess and then Axel misunderstands a situation and then has a bad reaction? (I wouldn't count it as a autistic meltdown necessarily at least if I had done it. I would say more of an overstimulation snap? (Not that I can blame him because honestly I would of done the same) Then Rooney just packs up and leaves? Like leaves the state. All I could think was "What the fuck" how did that play out so bad? I went into it thinking she was gonna ask him to let her stay permanently. Welp that is not how it went at all. It had the cutest redemption at the end so it was worth it. The journey that got me there though had me questioning it there. It did have the cutest fluff scenes, some great steamy scenes, and some deep and honest scenes about their illness and disability. There was one scene in particular that saved the whole book for me. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this book it just wasn't my favorite because I'm so impatient. I loved the characters though even if they did frustrate the hell out of me. Again that was just my impatience.

Favorite Character: Skyler, she for sure would beat me at candy land. That kid could rule the world if she wanted to.

Least Favorite Character: Skugga, that audiobook meow will haunt me for the rest of my life

Favorite Part: When Rooney asks to hug him and he basically says that he normally doesn't like hugs but he feels safe enough to hug her and he actually enjoys the hug. It melted my heart and saved the book for me.

Least Favorite Part: When Rooney just up and leaves because she did not follow Axel's boundaries and he had a valid and typical autism reaction to being put in a situation like that. She did not even give him a chance to explain just shut him out. I was livid. (I may prefer Axel 😅)

Favorite Quote: “I gave him a romance novel because they’re a safe place to step deeper into our emotions, the happy ones and the hard ones. To recognize and process complex, sometimes difficult feelings within ourselves that the world tells men, in all its gendered, toxic bullshit, we have no obligation to face and feel, when we really do. As humans, we owe it to ourselves to know our hearts.”

I will read more in the series! I'm actually working my way through one currently. Any guesses on which one?

[theharrowing]

Dollhouse 💛 23: Difficult to reconcile

Hoseok’s job is simple: He enters the host’s body, he confiscates or terminates the target, and he gets back into his own body by dinnertime, easy peasy. Until a client comes along who becomes as obsessed with his life as he becomes with theirs, and the lines between their realities begin to blur.

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

💛 Hoseok x Namjoon, Jungkook x Yoongi 💛 word count: 7.6k 💛 hired assassin au, sci-fi, body swapping, graphic violence, infidelity, body dysphoria, lgbtq, smut, fluff, angst, poly, nsfw, smut, 21+ 💛 chapter warnings: tough conversations and big feelings (some shouting and crying), anal fingering, anal sex, depression, grief, is anyone telling the truth? 💛 beta read by @neoneunnajimin 💛 posted march 2023 | read on ao3

A knock at Hoseok's office door pulls him from his reverie. He had been staring at a file on his desk for an indeterminable amount of time, letting his focus completely fade to smudges of light and color, ignoring the surveillance footage that plays in an endless stream on the monitor beside him. Hoseok blinks and looks up, finding The Boss peeking her head into the room.

"Is this a bad time?" she asks.

Hoseok shakes his head and reaches to shut off his monitor, then he closes the folder on his desk, sits up in his chair and tugs on the bottom hems of his navy blue blazer to straighten it out. 

"Of course not. Come in."

The Boss wears a mauve pantsuit with the blazer unbuttoned, and a black dress shirt underneath. Her hair is pulled back tight, and whatever she has done with her makeup today gives her a tired look. Or, perhaps, she is actually tired. It has been a long few weeks. 

"I want to discuss something with you," The Boss says as she approaches.

In her hand is a manila folder that Hoseok almost misses until she steps closer and holds it out. She pulls the chair in front of Hoseok's desk out of the way and remains standing, tossing the document on top of the file he has abandoned. If The Boss has a discussion for which she insists on standing, Hoseok expects trouble, and he braces himself as he lifts the folder and opens it. 

"We were able to get our hands on files for both Jeon Jeongguk and Min Yoongi from several databases over the years, and our experts have confirmed that the handwriting on the first and second letters belong to Jeongguk. After running fingerprint analysis, we have verified that only the prints of those two are on both letters. Furthermore, the second letter, which was mailed from Busan, was done so by Min Yoongi, himself. Did he mention leaving town a few weeks back, for any reason?"

Hoseok stares at the file—which he has not actually begun to read—watching the letters fade and sharpen, back and forth as he attempts to get his bearings. Although he wants to protest this information, no part of this surprises him. So they did run, after all. But why?

“How did you determine that—“

“He used a personal debit card to purchase postage. Which suggests he wanted to be discovered, eventually.”

"Yoongi had not mentioned anything," Hoseok responds after a long moment. "In fact, there were no days when one of us did not see him. He must have driven out and come straight back."

"That is a possibility," The Boss responds with an eyebrow raised.

Although she has never mentioned the nature of Namjoon and Hoseok's relationship with Yoongi and Jeongguk, he figures she must at least know there is something. There have been too many opportunities for her to see and hear what goes on between them. 

"I assume the two of them are still technically lost?" Hoseok asks, feeling bile rise to his throat. 

The Boss hums and nods. 

"I am afraid so."

Hoseok racks his mind for any clue as to where they might have gone. But, for the life of him, he cannot seem to come up with anything. The two of them were not exactly secretive, but they were also not open books. Although there was a lot that they would divulge and discuss, they must have been pretty careful not to show too many cards. Hoseok wonders if their disappearing act was part of the plan, all along. 

"There is something else," The Boss says. 

This time, she does take a seat, scooting the chair closer to the desk and setting her hands atop the wooden surface. 

Hoseok braces himself once more. 

"Rumor has it that when Hyunsuk was developing the technology that we use—that we essentially bought from him and attempted to monitor his use of—he was working on a way to keep individuals permanently jumped. In fact, that is the reason I was so insistent on pursuing this case; I wanted to see what we could discover and possibly take the man out before he was successful in his experiments. For years he has evaded us, and only when Jeongguk came along with the case against his own father, did we realize the man had been spending a bulk of his time in Japan."

Only two words from The Boss' spiel stand out to Hoseok: Permanently jumped. 

Hoseok scoffs and shakes his head. In all the years that he has used the technology, there has never been an instance of him not needing to recalibrate, and, as far as he knows, they are working with state-of-the-art technology. The idea that someone could stay permanently jumped seems ridiculous. 

"But jumping permanently is impossible, right?" Hoseok asks. 

To his surprise, The Boss hesitates. In fact, she appears a bit worried.

"If they were able to," The Boss says, leaning forward with her voice low and laced with concern, "where do you think they would have run off to? Surely, they would have told you something?"

Hoseok lets her question settle, then he chuckles and shakes his head. 

"You cannot be not suggesting they have better technology than we have?"

"There is always a chance—" The Boss begins, but Hoseok shakes his head some more and cuts her off. 

"We are the government. With government funding and a research team."

"And Min Hyunsuk is the man who built the tech with his bare hands. There is always the chance that he may have discovered or had access to something that we do not know of."

Ridiculous. This idea is ridiculous, and Hoseok does not want to humor it. If Yoongi and Jeongguk have managed to permanently jump into someone else's bodies, that would mean their former selves have essentially been killed, as there seems to be no trace of them. He cannot live with the possibility of that. Absolutely not. 

"Why would they want to do that?" Hoseok asks, feeling his blood begin to boil, and attempting to breathe slowly to calm his nerves. 

The Boss shrugs. "To evade death? To avoid capture for crimes they may have committed? Who knows."

"But Jeongguk had to come to us for an implant," Hoseok says, thinking about the day in Osaka when he and Jeongguk drank rice wine and opened up to one another. 

When Hoseok asked why he wanted an implant, Jeongguk’s response was a simple raise of an eyebrow, and from there, Hoseok interpreted a plethora of meanings. Perhaps it was right under his nose, he just lacked sufficient information to understand. Perhaps they really were hiding something huge. 

The Boss sighs. 

"Our men will continue to keep their eyes and ears on the ground. They are also working on taking down Jeon Jaebeom. Even without Jeongguk in the mix, he has given us sufficient cause to get his father off the streets and into an urn."

Hoseok nods, thinking once again to the conversation with Jeongguk, about how his objective for hiring them was to get the implant, and that killing his dad would simply be a bonus. Well, hopefully everyone gets what they want in the long run, he supposes. 

These days, when Hoseok returns home, the house is quiet. Often, in the evenings, Namjoon spends time either at work or out with coworkers. Hoseok wonders if Namjoon has been distant because he, too, misses their friends, or if he has just simply been tired of the way Hoseok has been handling things. Namjoon has accused him of needing to move on and has even called him "obsessive" a few times.

Hoseok would not say that he has become obsessive. But he has been going to great lengths to find Yoongi and Jeongguk—lengths which he considers perfectly reasonable when dealing with missing loved ones. He has detectives keeping a watch on CCTV in several Japanese districts—streaming a particular one, himself, while he has downtime at work—and he has tracking software running to notify him if or when Yoongi or Jeongguk make any sort of purchase or if their identification cards and passes are scanned for any reason. He also has detectives keeping watch over any locations where Jeongguk's father may turn up, in case the pair happen to come out of the woodwork and attempt an assassination of their own.

For weeks, it has been dead silent. Unsettlingly so. 

Hoseok has driven past their homes and their family's homes several times, and he has officers stationed to keep watch over all properties. So far, it has been reported that a housekeeper comes each day to look after Jeongguk's father's home, but otherwise, nobody has come in or out of any of the others. 

He would not call any of it obsessive. He would call it caring. He cares for his friends and wishes they would return home safely, and if or when they do, he would like to be one of the first people to know.

And perhaps Hoseok does need to move on, but he struggles to imagine how that is possible when somewhere, likely on a nearby island, his two friends are hiding out. He certainly cannot deny the impact that their disappearance has made on his life—he is not blind to it. Over the last few weeks, Hoseok's personal life has followed more or less the same unsatisfactory cycle.

Hoseok wakes up after Namjoon has left, stands in the shower for a while, gets ready for work, goes to work, attempts to focus on his actual duties and tasks, checks in with the team who are in place to keep a lookout for Yoongi and Jeongguk, comes home, opens a bottle of wine, sits in front of the television, stands in the shower once more—this time to actually wash—and goes to bed. 

When Namjoon finally does come home, Hoseok is typically already in bed, or he is in the shower, getting ready for bed. Sometimes he misses his husband, and the relationship they used to have. But for now, he is just happy to have some time to decompress. The numbness and anxiety tend to be at a constant tug of war, putting him at his wits' end, and Namjoon being at a distance allows for things to at least be somewhat uncomplicated.

Tonight, Hoseok kicks off his shoes, makes his way up the short flight of steps, and moseys straight to the kitchen for a bottle of red. He has begun getting bottles with twist-off tops for convenience and forgoes using a glass. It is not as if anyone will be around to help him drink the wine, anyway. 

However, Hoseok is barely halfway through his cheap red blend when the front door slowly opens and quietly shuts. Hoseok is curled on the corner of the couch, not really watching the drama he has playing on the television, and the sound of feet coming up the steps is so out of the ordinary, he actually feels his heart begin to pound and a discomfort settle over him.

Rather than a greeting from his husband, all Hoseok hears is the clearing of Namjoon's throat. It is a sound he is quite familiar with—somewhere between an attention-seeking throat clear and a nervous throat clear—hesitant at first, becoming a bit louder at the end. Hoseok turns to find Namjoon standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and his lips turned into a frown.

"Just drinking straight from the bottle, these days?" Namjoon asks.

Hoseok might feel ashamed if today was not a day that numbness has taken the wheel. He shrugs. 

"Fewer dishes to worry about."

Namjoon sighs. "There is something I have been meaning to ask you about, but if you're already drunk—"

"I am not drunk," Hoseok responds sharply, twisting further on the couch, with his leg bent beside him so he can get a full view of his husband's disdain. It is true that he feels a bit tipsy along the edges, but it will take a lot more than this to get him drunk. "And anyway, if there is something that you have been so eager to discuss, then why have I hardly seen you in the last couple of weeks?"

Only now, does Hoseok take in Namjoon's full appearance. He has recently colored his hair from chestnut to dark brown, and it is grown out, hanging in his eyes while the back falls past his ears. He wears a tan long-sleeve shirt tucked into brown slacks, and his sleeves are shoved up to his elbows, as if done so in a hurry. Slowly, Namjoon slides his hands into the front pockets of his slacks, and he shifts where he stands.

"Well, for one thing," Namjoon begins, voice coming out downcast and a little unsure, "I have been dreading this."

Hoseok raises his eyebrows, unsure of what this means, exactly.

"This...defensiveness," Namjoon continues. "This...I don't know. Things are just strained and weird. You're grieving Yoongi and Jeongguk as if they are dead—" Hoseok rolls his eyes and turns back to the television, giving Namjoon his back, "—and it is not fair to me, Seok."

"Not fair to you," Hoseok mumbles under his breath. "Am I not allowed to grieve? A loss is still a loss; should I not be allowed to be sad?"

"Be sad, but…I don't know..." Namjoon trails off, and Hoseok turns his head, simultaneously wanting to look at him and not wanting to. "I just miss my husband," he finally says, eyes on the floor.

"I'm sorry," Hoseok mutters, despite hardly feeling anything at all. 

Namjoon's feelings are completely valid, and Hoseok is aware of the rift that has come between them. He is willing to admit much of the fault is his own, watching as Namjoon slowly began to pull back weeks ago, until they were barely touching or speaking at all. 

But how is he supposed to reconcile that Yoongi, Jeongguk, and, in a sense, Namjoon are suddenly gone? How can he sit peacefully on his cozy, brown leather couch and admit that his entire life is coming to a screeching halt?

"As I said...I have something that I would like to discuss with you," Namjoon says. "I guess now is as good of a time as any."

Namjoon rounds the couches, reaches for the remote, which sits on the table just before Hoseok, and shuts the television off. Then he sits on the smaller of the two couches, perpendicular to Hoseok, with his elbows resting above his knees. 

"The Boss said something several weeks ago that I haven't been able to get out of my head," Namjoon confesses as he stares ahead at their reclaimed wooden table.

Hoseok's heart sinks, catching thorns on its way down. He knows exactly where this is going. He noticed the moment Namjoon figured it out—noticed the complete and total shift in his behavior. Somewhere in the recess of his mind, he has been dreading this conversation—hoping, even, that Namjoon may have forgotten. 

There are so many thoughts that Hoseok has all at once, looking for excuses for that second day they all spent in Osaka, months ago. But he knows that once Namjoon puts it out there, the only thing he will be able to respond with is the truth.

"You and Jeongguk jumped the day you met with their fathers," Namjoon says as he continues to stare ahead, tapping one of his fingers against his lip. "The day Yoongi and I went to the museums and then met up with you two, to drink wine and walk around the gardens."

"I remember," Hoseok mutters, feeling his body go cold.

A long pause fills the room with a thick, palpable tension. Then, Namjoon finally asks, "Why didn't you tell me?" and Hoseok has the overwhelming urge to sink into the couch until he disappears entirely. 

"Tell you?" he tries, knowing that he is playing with fire. 

Namjoon sighs once more and rubs his palms over his eyes, then he drops his arms to his knees, sitting slouched over. He twists his head and scans his eyes over Hoseok’s face. 

“When did the two of you jump back?”

Hoseok’s mouth hovers over consonants but he stumbles before saying, “Namjoon—“

“At the time, I was just so excited to be together in Japan, sharing new experiences with new friends, that I didn’t notice it. But when the realization hit, it was all so clear.”

Back and forth, Namjoon’s eyes search Hoseok's face. The more his thoughts appear to build, the further Hoseok wishes to sink. 

“Did you coach Jeongguk on how I like to fuck?”

Hoseok croaks out, “Namjoon!” desperate to argue, but he has nothing. Tears well in his eyes, his voice wobbles around the syllables, and he is unable to say another word. 

“He did a good job tugging on my hair and getting me into the perfect mindset to ride your cock like an eager little pet. Said a lot of filthy shit that I was surprised to hear come out of your mouth, but, then again, I surprised us both with the daddy kink, so I guess perhaps I was more willing to be fooled.”

Anger paints Namjoon’s face, and Hoseok chokes on a sob, feeling his heart pound so hard it makes him nauseous. Namjoon takes a deep, slow breath, letting out a long, shaky exhale. 

“Do you remember when Jeongguk came to us in Yoongi’s body, about a month ago?”

Hoseok nods his head as hot tears pour down his face; how could he forget? 

“Do you remember what he said that night? What he said to you over the phone?”

As if all the air has been sucked from the room, Hoseok finds it impossible to breathe, hugging his arms around himself tightly. 

“Why is it always him?” Hoseok croaks, barely audible enough to carry the short distance between them. 

But Namjoon does hear him, and he nods. 

“Why, Hoseok?” he asks softly. 

Hoseok shakes his head as the tears stream down, muttering, “It’s not. Namjoon, it’s not—“

Namjoon stands, slamming his palms onto the table as he shouts, “Why is it always fucking him, Hoseok?”

Shock and fear rock through Hoseok, and he gasps, folding in on himself against the soft leather that whines beneath him. His ears begin to ring and the pounding of his heart is dizzying.

“It’s not—“ Hoseok tries, all the while Namjoon shakes his head and towers over Hoseok with his fists clenched and shaking. 

Although he does not fear that his husband would physically harm him, it is simply the sight of him this angry that sends fear quaking through Hoseok. Fear of losing Namjoon. Fear of knowing how badly Namjoon must be hurt. 

“Do you love him more than you love me?” Namjoon asks, voice softer and far more sullen. 

“No,” Hoseok sobs, shaking his head. “Never.”

And he means it. Despite the gravitational pull he has felt since the day he met Yoongi, it has often felt more like an obsession than a place to call home. Despite how everything evolved between the four of them, Hoseok has never forgotten about how it all began with deceit. 

“How do I know that?” Namjoon asks. 

A sharp, loud sob rips through Hoseok, and he squeezes his arms around himself impossibly tighter, heaving for air. 

“I don’t know,” he responds, pathetically. “I don’t know how to prove something like that.”

“They left and you’ve become a shell of a man,” Namjoon spits, anger returning. “I want my husband back! The two of them left and they took you with them!”

Unable to do anything but cry, Hoseok does just that. Namjoon stands a moment longer, and Hoseok closes his eyes and allows the pain and frustration to wash over him. He deserves this. He knows he deserves this and he does not beg for mercy. 

“Who’s idea was it?” Namjoon finally asks after several minutes have passed and Hoseok’s sobs whither to become deep, shattered inhales and exhales. 

“Jeongguk’s idea,” he whimpers.

“Jeongguk wanted to fuck you?”

Hoseok scoffs—mirthless and heavy. 

“Jeongguk wanted to fuck you.”

“And when you first met Yoongi,” Namjoon continues, “what happened?”

“I t-told you,” Hoseok stammers, suddenly feeling cold. 

“You told me Yoongi kissed you, while you were in Jeongguk’s body. What else?”

With a sigh, Hoseok sits up. He may as well be honest, for once. 

“He wanted to get me into bed and I feigned being sick, so he insisted on running a bath and doting on me. I went along with it, not realizing he would want to get into the bath, too.”

“Of course he would,” Namjoon grumbles, sitting back onto the couch with force and leaning forward to snatch Hoseok’s bottle of wine, taking a long pull, then clenching it tight in his fist.

“The Boss dialed me for nausea and made me vomit. It was…honestly pretty wild; I had no idea she could do that. So I vomited, and Yoongi helped me out of the tub and into bed. He fell asleep, and The Boss pulled me out.”

“That’s all?”

Hoseok nods in quick, shallow bursts. 

“That’s all.”

“And by then, did you have feelings for him?”

Hoseok shrugs. He is unsure when the feelings began, at this point. Everything feels like a blur. 

“I suppose I may have, but I don’t really remember. I don’t think I saw him again until Jeongguk suggested we all meet, and the four of us went to dinner.”

“And everything was Jeongguk’s idea?”

Hoseok nods.

"And at the dinner, you went into that situation knowing that Jeongguk was sizing me up and showing you off to his pretty little boyfriend."

"Yes," Hoseok mutters as he hangs his head. 

More tears stream, hot and thick, but Hoseok feels more numb than sad, powerless to do anything but let them simply fall.

“He was always in control," Hoseok says through a hiccup. "Even in Osaka, I tried to get our men to pull me out—to switch bodies. But they only took Jeongguk’s orders. I never sorted out why, actually.”

Hoseok had been so caught in the whirlwind, he never bothered to investigate, and now that he considers it, it is pretty fucking weird. How much influence have the Mins and Jeons had over The Boss' team? Was it something Yoongi and Jeongguk could have set up ahead of time?

“You’ve just been passively letting these men control your life,” Namjoon responds with a bitter tone beneath his words.

The accusation hurts, reminding him of months ago when Jeongguk essentially said the same thing. But there is no denying it—no other way to put it, really. In essence that is precisely what happened. If asked why Hoseok allowed it, he is not certain he would have an answer; he simply felt swept up and blown away. 

“It’s just so unlike you,” Namjoon mutters, running one hand through his outgrown hair while he takes another drink from the bottle of wine. His voice sounds sad, almost defeated. “It’s…it’s difficult to reconcile, Seok.”

Hoseok hums and nods. He agrees. 

Again, Namjoon drinks. Then he sighs, leans, and hands the bottle over. Hoseok hesitates, studies his husband’s beautiful frowning face, and accepts the bottle. Rather than drink from it, he holds it in his grip, cradling it with his other hand. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Namjoon mutters, still partially leaning toward Hoseok. “Where do we go from here?”

Emotion bubbles heavily, spilling once more in the form of a sob before Hoseok can stop it. “Do you still love me?” he asks, pathetically. 

“Of course I still love you,” Namjoon responds without hesitation, biting through his words as if it pains him to have to say it at all. 

“I never loved them more,” Hoseok insists, pulling the bottle to his lips. He stops before taking a drink, letting the warm glass rest against his skin. “The guilt I have felt has been suffocating. And yet, it was not enough to warrant a confession. I feel so stupid. I feel unworthy of your forgiveness. I don’t know what to do. I was just...scared, Joon. I was so fucking scared.”

With a sigh, Namjoon slowly stands, pressing his palms into the cushion as if he requires assistance to make himself move. He does not even stand all the way—leans forward as he twists and plops back down, taking up the empty space beside Hoseok and instantly filling it with warmth. 

“I don’t want to hate you,” Namjoon says softly, warranting Hoseok to drink. “I feel hurt and confused, mostly because you…you never had to lie. I went along willingly. I liked them, too. We could have just talked about it.”

Hoseok nods, gripping the wine bottle tightly, only loosening his hold when Namjoon pries it from his hand. More than half of the dark, bittersweet contents of the bottle are gone, and they slosh with each sip. 

“I’m at your mercy,” Hoseok utters softly, pulling his knees to his chest and feeling the soft material of his black slacks beneath his fingers. 

With a chuckle, Namjoon passes the bottle back, then he wraps an arm around Hoseok’s shoulders, pulling him close. The sound of laughter is so jarring, pushing Hoseok's emotions to and fro, and he has no choice but to settle into Namjoon's side. 

“We can move forward from this,” Namjoon states, giving Hoseok’s shoulder a squeeze. “As much as I have let all of this move around in my head, trying to make sense of everything, there has never been a point where I have thought you had malicious intent. I never thought you wanted to hurt me. You have hurt me…and that is something we will have to work on…but I think we can. I want us to. Now that you have been honest with me, I want us to figure this out.”

“I miss you,” Hoseok confesses, leaning further into Namjoon’s side. “I miss you more than I miss them.”

Namjoon hums and hugs Hoseok close, leaving a soft kiss on his temple.

“Once we are to the point where we can laugh at all of this, I have a lot of questions.”

Hoseok cracks a smile and nods, then takes one more drink from the wine. He likes the idea of being so far removed from how he feels now that he will be able to speak about it more freely. He likes the idea of reminiscing about them.

The sound of Hoseok's office phone ringing makes him jump. He has been staring at a CCTV feed long enough that when he looks away from his monitor, the lighting of his office seems a bit off—a little too yellow, and somewhat too bright. He blinks heavily and spins his office chair around, reaching for the phone.

"This is Jung."

"Hoseok-ssi," The Boss responds, "Mister Kim is here and he would like to speak with you about his file. Do you have time to discuss it with him?"

Hoseok glances up in time to find a very tall, broad man in a black suit approach his door and meet his eye through the glass wall. With a soft smile, the man raises his hand to wave, and Hoseok somewhat limply raises two fingers. 

"And you mentioned that you wanted me to turn him down?" Hoseok asks The Boss, doing his best not to move his lips too much, in an attempt to have his words remain undetected. 

"Correct," The Boss responds curtly, and Hoseok lets out a sigh. 

"And now that he has come to the office to meet with me—" Hoseok begins, but The Boss cuts him off.

"We will begin running a more thorough background check, that is correct. His waiver has been signed and left with the receptionist."

"Anything else?" Hoseok asks, glancing at the man, who appears to be checking his watch.

"That is all," The Boss responds before hanging up the call. 

Hoseok clears his throat, sets his phone on the receiver, and stands. With a fortifying breath, he rubs his hands down his charcoal slacks, then walks to the door. Although it is unlocked, he does not want to give Mister Kim the idea that he should be turning that knob for any reason. 

"Mister Kim," Hoseok says with a forced smile as he bows his head and reaches to shake his guest's hand.

"Please," the man responds, "call me Seokjin."

Seokjin's voice is a pleasant, confident tenor, spoken softly as he introduces himself. His short, dark brown hair is coiffed off his forehead, and he has a firm, set jaw with sharp features, and expressive almond eyes. He is quite handsome, and Hoseok thinks, for a split moment, that he has a tiny resemblance to Jeongguk before rapidly blinking the errant thought away.

"Seokjin-ssi," Hoseok says, bowing his head once more and taking a step back, motioning for Seokjin to enter the room. 

Seokjin steps in and pauses, possibly for instruction, while Hoseok closes his door and makes his way back to his seat. Realizing he had kept the CCTV stream active as he rounds his desk, Hoseok quickly leans and shuts off his monitor, then glances back toward the window where his refreshments table is, realizing he never offered Seokjin anything. He removed the whiskey a couple weeks ago, when it became too tempting to drink while alone at work, but there is a carafe of somewhat fresh, albeit tepid, water. 

"Can I offer you some water?" Hoseok asks as he straightens out the items on his desk, making certain that papers are snug within their folders, and nothing is hanging out to be read. 

Ordinarily, Hoseok is far more organized when meeting with someone for the first time, and he feels out of sorts from having paperwork strewn about. Seokjin does not seem to mind, and he gives a slight shake of his head as he pulls the chair out from in front of Hoseok's desk and has a seat, muttering, "No need, thank you."

Hoseok has a seat in his leather chair, gathers the folders on his desk and slides open the file drawer, which he has kept unlocked, shoving them inside. Then he finds Seokjin's case and pulls the folder out. Although he has no reason to, he feels compelled to apologize for his conduct.

"Please forgive me, Seokjin-ssi," Hoseok says as he sits up and places Seokjin's file on his desk. "I have a case that has me feeling a bit exhausted, so I am ill-prepared for a meeting."

Seokjin raises his eyebrows in concern and parts his lips, which Hoseok thinks are quite full and very pretty. 

"Is there a better time?" he asks softly.

"No, no," Hoseok responds, sitting straighter and scooting closer to his desk. "Now is just as great of a time as any."

Seokjin nods and places his hands on his lap, sitting up straight. Hoseok opens the file and glances at the only page he had bothered to read, which is his application that describes the nature of the job. Although the instruction he was given was to read through the file carefully and consider his thoughts on the job, he has been rather distracted, lately, and has not taken time to think about it.

Hoseok turns the first page and finds a photograph attached to the following one, with a paperclip. He yanks the photo free, holds it up, and studies the subjects. Funny enough, Hoseok's first thought is that the pair of them reminds him a little of his missing friends. 

Two men stand in the middle of what looks like a crowded shopping center. They are the only subjects in focus; everyone surrounding them has been blurred out. The taller of the two appears to have chestnut-brown hair, wearing an oversized, white, short-sleeve button-up shirt tucked into loose, brown slacks, and his build somewhat resembles Jeongguk's—perhaps a little less muscular, but it is hard to tell. The shorter of the two has a black, short-sleeve button-up shirt untucked over tight black jeans, his hair is lightened to a silver-blond, and his build resembles Yoongi's, though his shoulders are, perhaps, not as broad. Both men wear sunglasses, and they appear to be studying a map. 

"These two men are your targets?" Hoseok asks, glancing at Seokjin, who watches him. 

Seokjin blinks slowly and says, "That is correct."

"Their crimes..." Hoseok trails off, rereading the first page of the file. "Forgive me; I read this over when it first came across my desk, but..." he trails off once more, picking out details on the page.

"But you have an exhausting case that has been demanding your attention," Seokjin responds. "I understand."

Hoseok hums in response, then glances up. 

"You state here that these men are suspected spies, who are alleged to have committed multiple murders, have a connection to a drug ring, and have fled the country."

"That is correct," Seokjin responds. 

"And you are a member of the special forces, I see. You work in Busan, primarily."

"Correct."

Ordinarily, when Hoseok addresses an officer, they will state their position and rank, even if it is repeated information. It helps to determine the level of honorifics one may use to address one another, and it is simply polite to do in this line of work. Seokjin omitting that information, despite Hoseok having the paperwork in his hands, strikes him as odd. He places the photograph down and straightens his posture, resting his hands over Seokjin's file and linking his fingers together. 

"And, as a member of the special forces," Hoseok continues, "you are aware that we need more than alleged and suspected evidence, correct?"

Seokjin shifts in his seat, and Hoseok notices a tick in the corner of his mouth, on the right side. 

"I am aware," he responds simply.

"If you can provide some hard evidence that supports the claims in this document, we will be happy to look further into this case. As it stands now, I am going to have to decline moving forward."

"Sir—" Seokjin begins, but Hoseok stands, straightening out his jacket. 

"I trust you will be able to find your way out."

"Sir," Seokjin says simply, standing while bowing his head before turning to make his way back to the door. 

Hoseok slowly rounds his desk, then leans on the edge with his arms crossed over his chest. There is something about the way Seokjin carries himself that tells Hoseok he is not who he says he is, but without a proper background check, he struggles to put his finger on it. Although he speaks like an agent, something in his posture—in the way his shoulders seem to slump forward even when he stands up straight—reminds Hoseok of a hardened criminal.

Just as he reaches for the handle, Seokjin turns, fixing Hoseok with a sharp glance. There is something in his gaze that Hoseok cannot discern, causing a chill to run down his spine. 

"You will want to look into these two," Seokjin calls, putting emphasis on you. "The sooner, the better."

A sharp tinge of anxiety hits Hoseok, and he takes a deep, slow breath, doing his best to show no reaction. As he waits for Seokjin to either continue or exit, the seconds that pass feel heavy and charged—thick with something that is faintly electric, buzzing all around him. 

"Is that all?" Hoseok finally asks with a cock of his head. 

Seokjin nods, quick, shallow movements. He turns to the door, then turns back to Hoseok as if he may have something to say before swallowing and making his exit, closing the door slowly behind himself. As Seokjin's back retreats, Hoseok's phone rings. 

Hoseok picks up the phone receiver, eyes still glued to the space Seokjin once occupied, and he holds it to his ear, muttering, "Jung."

"I see he has returned to the hallway. Is he leaving?" The Boss asks, skipping pleasantries. 

Hoseok continues to stare out into the empty hallway. "He is."

"We are still working on his background check, but we have confirmed that he does not work for a bureau in Busan."

"I had a feeling," Hoseok responds, gaining no relief from this information. 

Why, then, did Seokjin bring this case to him? Seokjin had to know that he would only get so far until they found out he was not who he said he was. And to come all the way here, to sit at Hoseok's desk and attempt to persuade him in person, well...Hoseok has to admit, the man is quite bold. 

Hoseok rounds his desk and has a seat, then he closes the file and shoves it aside. With a sigh, he turns back to his monitor and clicks it on, and it only takes a matter of seconds for Hoseok to zone out completely, with his eyes glued to the feed. 

Citizens amble back and forth from time to time, and he never sees anyone who resembles the people he hopes to see. He knows he should stop watching the feed and get on with his life. He knows that the way he is handling this situation is not healthy. At least he manages to close the feed and return home at a respectable enough time.

Namjoon comes home shortly after Hoseok does, much to his surprise. He appears tired as he reaches the top landing to find Hoseok on the couch—without a bottle of wine, this time—only offering a small smile before making his way up to the second-floor bedroom. It is not much, but Hoseok cherishes it. He can work with a soft smile. 

After only a few minutes, Hoseok gets to his feet and shuffles in the direction of his husband. Even if Namjoon is feeling distant, he just wants to be in his orbit. At least, in the same room. 

When he reaches the top of the stairs and enters the bedroom, Namjoon is standing in his briefs, with his pants pooled around his ankles, stepping from the fabric and bending to pick it up. 

"Gonna shower?" Hoseok asks, leaving some space between them as he begins to undo the buttons of his work shirt. He had left his blazer draped over the back of the couch.

"Join me?" Namjoon asks softly, taking Hoseok by surprise. His eyes are wide and a little sad, almost pleading as he waits for Hoseok's response, which is a smile and a nod before he can find his voice to say, "Of course."

Namjoon enters the bathroom first, and Hoseok continues to unbutton his shirt and shrug it away, letting it fall in the general area of the hamper as he holds his arm out and flicks it in that direction. The sound of the shower turning on can be heard, and Hoseok nibbles the inside of his lips as his fingertips make slow, shaky work of opening his slacks. 

Before Hoseok can finish, Namjoon returns, gently shoving Hoseok's hands away and unzipping his slacks for him. He pushes the fabric past Hoseok's hips, and Hoseok gathers the bottom hem of his undershirt, pulling it over his head while stepping from the pants that Namjoon has let fall to the floor. 

"Missed you," Namjoon mutters as his fingertips graze up Hoseok's hips, a featherlight touch ghosting over his scar.

"Missed you too," Hoseok responds as he tosses his shirt aside and Namjoon pulls him close, almost forcefully against his body while steam begins to pour out through the open bathroom door. 

Namjoon's hands wander along Hoseok's back, down to his ass, and up, squeezing gently and causing arousal to lick on the edges of all of his senses. 

"Are you sure?" Hoseok asks, hesitant because of everything he has done to hurt Namjoon—unsure whether he deserves to be touched like this. 

"Need you," Namjoon groans, burying his face into Hoseok's neck and nipping at his skin. "Please."

Hoseok nods and leads his husband into the bathroom, slotting their fingers together and tugging him along. They begin innocently enough, dropping their briefs to the bathroom floor mat and ignoring their hardening cocks long enough for Hoseok to lather up a cloth and wash Namjoon's pretty, golden skin. They take turns slathering and rinsing each other's hair, giggling softly, as if nothing had ever caused a rift between them, and Hoseok revels in the domestic bliss. Tender and sweet.

Namjoon groans and whimpers as soon as Hoseok has him spun around and pressed into the tile wall. He takes his time fingering him open, nipping at his shoulder, and telling him how pretty he is—how good he feels. Eager to show Namjoon just how sorry he is, he pulls him apart just with his fingers first, massaging his prostate as Namjoon sprays his release on the wall, making him come untouched and praising him for being so perfect.

"How do you want me?" Hoseok groans into Namjoon's neck while his fingers continue to slowly press in and pull out. 

"On the bed," Namjoon sobs, trembling as his hands attempt to grip against the hard, wet wall. 

"On the bed how, baby?"

"On my knees. Need it deep. Need it to hurt."

A tinge of guilt hits Hoseok as he slides his fingers slowly from his husband's tight, eager ass. He has already done so much to hurt Namjoon. He wonders if the pain will just be a way for Namjoon to cope with everything; if he is still just as broken and tarnished as Hoseok feels. 

But Hoseok gives Namjoon exactly what he wants. He shuts off the shower, quickly towels off, then takes his time getting as much water from Namjoon's hair and skin as he can before leading him to their bed. Namjoon practically throws himself to the mattress, scrambling to his hands and knees and presenting himself so perfectly while Hoseok grabs the bottle of lube and slathers a generous amount onto his cock. 

The tight squeeze of Namjoon's inner muscles works in tandem with the vines that wrap around Hoseok's lungs, robbing him of his oxygen. Tears rise to his eyes as he slides himself deep into Namjoon's hole, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of his hips as he gives the two of them a moment to catch their breath. He hardly hears Namjoon's whimpered sobs over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, threatening to burst. 

Not until Namjoon mutters, "Please, daddy. Please make it hurt." 

Only then does Hoseok come crashing back to reality, overcome with emotion and eager to perform—eager to do absolutely anything Namjoon wants him to, even if it tugs at his heart.

Against his better judgment, Hoseok calls Seokjin during his lunch break. Although there is something off about him—something the man is not telling him—Jimin and Taehyung keep nipping at his mind, and he does not want The Boss to know that he is continuing to dig. 

"This is Kim," Seokjin greets as he answers the call, voice much deeper than Hoseok remembers.

"Seokjin-ssi," Hoseok begins, glancing around the mostly empty park as he slings one leg over the other, attempting to settle onto the cold, wooden bench. "This is Jung Hoseok. We spoke at my office yesterday."

"Ah," Seokjin responds, voice returning to the lighter, more familiar tone. "Hoseok-ssi, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"Do you have more on the targets? Video surveillance or photographs? Information on where they might be, now?"

"Last we knew, they were in a port city near Perth. I can send over what little we have by way of surveillance."

"And do you know if they left Korea to get to Australia?"

It is a long shot. Hoseok knows it is a long shot, but he cannot help but ask. Something in his gut tells him that these men are not who they say they are. Something tells him that they are the men Hoseok seeks.

Seokjin hums, then says, "Why no, sir. They flew out from Fukuoka."

Hoseok's lips form around, "Fu," and he freezes, stiff and still as if a bucket of ice had been dropped from his head. 

"Fukuoka...Japan," he finally mutters, eyes becoming cloudy with tears.

"That is correct," Seokjin responds matter-of-factly. "I have been working with a friend to gather the information you requested yesterday—evidence of their alleged and supposed crimes. I can send you everything I have on them within the hour. I…assume you ran the full background check on me yesterday, after I signed the waiver?"

"Y-yes," Hoseok responds. "We tend to wait until we are eager to move forward with a case. The process is expensive."

"Hmm, even for the government," Seokjin responds in a somewhat mocking tone, causing hairs to stand on the back of Hoseok's neck. "Well, then, I suppose this will be the last time I hear from you. I can't imagine your boss will want you conversing with the likes of me."

Dumbfounded, Hoseok stares ahead, unsure what to say.

"I will send over everything I have on those two right away. See that she does not intercept it. Good luck on your search."

Hoseok swallows a lump and blinks heavily, attempting to bring the world back into view. Yellowed leaves fall from nearby trees and the chill on the wind sinks through Hoseok's pores, down to his bones. 

"Thank you," he says, voice weak with an audible tremble. Hoseok clears his throat, steadying himself to say, "I will look forward to your correspondence," before dropping his hand to his lap and ending the call. 

🥺now that i am so close to the end, this fic has been getting more and more difficult to write. i don't want to be dramatic! and make anyone fear for the worst/for the end! but....it's been over a year with these characters and i love them very much.

theories? only two chapters left! how are we feeling???

until next time! 💛

please don’t be a silent reader! feedback & reblogs do so much to help content creators!

tag list: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @giriiboyy @mgthecat​ @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki✨ comment or dm to be added to the tag list!

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[merv606]

I can imagine Daniel in Mercy being the one to change their bedding, because it gives him something to do, but mainly because he’s hugely mortified at how absolutely filthy the bedding gets and doesn’t want the maids to see 🤣 Terry tells him that the staff hears him anyway, so what does it matter, sweetheart? Daniel just throws a pillow at him to shut him up and proceeds to do the laundry while ignoring him.

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles, endlessly amused as he leans against the door frame to their bedroom, watching his boy strip their bed.

Daniel ignores Terry, too busy grumbling to himself, wondering if these ones can even be saved. Is it worth even trying to wash them.

“Danny, really, the staff will handle it.”

“Terry the girls aren’t seeing these. Not like this.”

Lube, come, spit, sweat and tears, plus god knows what else on red satin sheets.

“Honey, you think they don’t know exactly what goes on in here?”

He knows his boy is on friendly terms with the staff, the vast majority of them women, knowing them by name and even getting them gifts for the holidays, but really, his boy must know they know Terry fucks him within an inch of his life AND that he loves even minute (and inch) of it.

“You think they can’t hear you?”

“Why would they hear me?

Not too NSFW

A raised eyebrow in the smaller man’s direction. He knew his boy really got lost in the throes of their lovemaking - can’t shut up to save his life once a cock is inside him, fucking him nice and good like he loves- but does he not realize he literally screams the house down once Terry gets his mouth on that sweet ass of his?! Once his cock is fucking him open? Hitting that spot inside him that has him keening; that has him spreading his legs for the older man.

Screams of his pleasure as he’s loved by the older man, eaten alive by an eager mouth, filled and fucked, screams of the older man’s name, the begging and pleading, the whimpering and moans, breathy sighs and oh gods, and then when he actually comes …….

Terry can feel himself hardening. It’s not helped when Daniel leans over, putting a knee on the bed to grab an arrant pillow to strip the pillowcase off it, the pants pulled taut across his ass as a result.

“You can be loud sometimes,” Terry answers diplomatically.

If he divulges anything more his boy will try, bless him, to be quiet even if Terry knows it’s a battle he can’t win. It’s not like he’s allowed to use anything to muffle his noises either - those noises - like everything Daniel - belong to Terry. The older man worked hard enough for his boy and be damned if he’ll ever be denied a single one.

“How loud … wait,” hands on his hips, eyes narrowed, “you said the rooms were soundproof.”

“They are,” Terry amends; he does not lie to his boy, but sometimes, he forgets to close the door all the way, and the sound floats through and travels. Plus, it’s not always the bedroom that Terry fucks him absolutely raw and filthy in.

Good thing his sweet boy doesn’t know that several of the staff have walked in on them - when the need to have Daniel overwhelms Terry and he has him outside their bedroom. Daniel still puts up token protests, weak in the face of Terry’s wants and desire, anything would be, the older man burns bright for him, and he tries to guide Terry back to the bedroom but knows now, Terry will have him, when where and how he wants.

Terry is aware some of the maids have watched them in those times but, he has not bothered to put a stop to it, and why would he? It adds a thrill for him - feeds his ego to be able to show them how he makes his boy absolutely sing for him. Plus, he does so love showing off his things. The bonus they received in their weekly pay when that happens well, encouragement for it; a mutually beneficial arrangement as far as Terry is concerned. As long as his boy never finds out.

Because, if Daniel actually knew that, Terry knows no way would any activity be taking place out of the bedroom ever again, so the staff has been warned that, should they encounter such a situation, to make sure Daniel doesn’t realize.

Just like he’ll never know Terry has the security tapes from these encounters.

Daniel bends, gathering up the sheets, Terry palming himself, but his arms is grabbed as he tries to walk past the older man, unable to leave.

“They can’t be saved anyway,” Terry tells him, taking the sheets from his hands, crowding into his personal space. He has different plans for his boy right now, than him washing sheets. He keeps crowding him, forcing Daniel to step back, until he hits the bed. As if on instinct he reaches out to the older man to steady himself, something Terry was anticipating and before he knows it he’s on the bed, the older man on top of him.

Clothes are ripped off, strewn across the room and before Daniel realizes it, the older man has him face down ass up, fingers prepping him quickly but efficiently, born of long practise and experience for a cock pounding home inside him; long, thick, and perfect, Daniel wailing as he’s fucked absolutely raw. The creak of the bed, his shouts of, “right there, Terry please … need it,” whimpering out as Terry gives it to him exactly how it’s requested of him. How could he not? His boy begs so fucking pretty for him. The pretty pleading quickly followed by his boy screaming his pleasure and release onto the bare mattress Terry is taking him on. Terry follows suit not long after, the deliciously tight fit of his ass that much tighter when he comes in Terry’s cock. The headboard hitting the wall, Terry fucking in deep one last time, a long moan from Daniel as fingers dig into bruised hip, the warmth that blooms in him as the cock in his ass throbs and pulses the older man’s release inside him.

Terry watches later on, smirk in place, as Daniel scrubs the mattress, glaring as Terry all the while.

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 4

Episode 20: Rubber Duck

This was gonna be a weird day. 

Every night, I fall asleep. And that's when I have...the dream.

Told you.

I'm late for work, so I drive there in a tiny vehicle. I come out of the elevator and then, I hear something cooking, so I walk across the room to see what's up. And then, there's this girl, who I've never seen before.

"What's up, Henry?" She says.

"How do you know my name?" I ask.

"'Cause, you're wearing a name tag." She was right, I was. So, next, I say...

"What you doin'?"

"I'm steaming beans!" I'm like, "random, but okay". She's hard to find through all the bean steam and just when I almost get to her--

"And that's how my dream always ends. Pretty crazy, right?" Henry smiled at (y/n) and Piper as they sat at his kitchen table, the woman filing her nails and the girl doing what looked like homework. Being the big boy he was, Henry had been colouring in a kid's picture book as he told them all about this absurd dream he kept having, but honestly, neither was paying much attention. 

(y/n) had heard this story before...sort of. She knew bits and pieces from when he'd retold it in the Man Cave and she was only in the kitchen because Mrs Hart had asked her to be there. Yeah, that Mrs Hart, the one she found difficult to like because of unfortunate history, had politely requested her to come to the Harts' house, but those details could wait for a moment. Henry was needy for attention.

"Yeah, super weird." She nodded sympathetically, looking up briefly from her manicure as Piper did the same, only the girl hadn't kept one ear open like her. Well, she might as well get used to catching up with the kid, she was gonna be with him for quite a while it seemed and if she could help, she would. Small problem though, (y/n) wasn't a shrink, she didn't know much about dreams, especially ones filled with bean girls who mystically turn into Jasper.

*the only good thing this episode gave me was the opportunity to look at nice outfits on google to try and find inspiration*

"What? Were you guys talking?" Piper suddenly asked, taking out the earphones that had been blasting teen-pop into her eardrums the entire time her brother had been divulging what plagued him every time he got some shut-eye. That pissed the boy off; he'd spent the last fifteen minutes pouring his heart out to the girls and only one was listening. That sucked. He wanted advice or some kind of interpretation, not the blank stare of Piper or the apologetic shrug from (y/n).

"Were we--Yeah, I was--I told you and (y/n) the whole dream that I had!" 

"About what?" Piper frowned at his snappy tone and moodily threw her cute, red earphones onto the table now that she actually had to listen to him. Ugh, couldn't she just sit here and chill with (y/n), the one she liked because she didn't ask dumb questions? 

"Well, I'm not gonna tell it again!" Henry exclaimed. The story was longwinded and he felt like just saying it again would take all the mystery out of it, Piper should've been listening like (y/n), although saying that, she wasn't offering much counselling either.

"Thank you!" The girl returned to her work, making Henry sit back in a huff that caused his coworker to smile. Brother and sister feuds were always funny, particularly between these two, but then she had to stop smiling and filing because here came her employers for the night, Mr and Mrs Hart. Yep, employers.

"Henry, Piper, your dad and I are about to leave." Mrs Hart called out to her children as she and her husband came down the stairs, holding a lot of luggage. This was the sitch; they were going away for a couple of days and even though Henry was a very responsible young man and had never let them down in the past, they still felt that their home needed some adult supervision. That's where (y/n) came in.

Now, she wasn't exactly their first choice, come on, they weren't very close and the young woman always hesitated to go to the house since she was highly aware that her soon-to-be husband had a thing for Henry's mom. They'd called family, friends, neighbours, but coincidentally, they'd all been busy with holidays, work or their weekend plans, so they'd gradually worked their way to the bottom of the list. And with a recommendation from Henry, how could they go wrong?

She was flattered, really she was, but (y/n) was a bit nervous. After all, she barely knew these people except for Piper and Henry, she may or may not have some disdain for his hot mother and she'd never watched over someone's house for them. At the start, she was sure that Henry would do a fine job in keeping himself and Piper alive and their home not on fire for two days, but then when she was offered twenty dollars an hour just to sit on her ass and watch some kids, she quickly changed her tune. 

Hell yeah, twenty an hour? She'd be raking it in and even if she had to rearrange a few plans and fight Ray off as he begged her not to get into the elevator, she was gonna do it. It was hard to leave the comfort of the Man Cave and her adorable doofus behind but if she thought of this as a vacation, a weekend to recharge her batteries in different surroundings, it wasn't too bad, at least, that's what she kept telling herself.

"'Kay, bye!"

"Okay, later. See ya..." The teens weren't interested at all, they just wanted to finish their equations and giraffe picture. Honestly, they thought this was gonna be great; (y/n) wasn't strict or severe, more responsible in a cool way and they weren't dreading her housesitting, they were looking forward to it. And that's why they didn't care about their parents leaving because they were boring and old.

"Piper, come help me with the luggage!" Mr Hart ordered his daughter from across the room. He was feeling brave today, giving her instructions like that, or maybe he just didn't want to get his suit all sweaty since his wife had packed everything but the kitchen sink it seemed like.

"Ugh, why can't Henry or (y/n) help you? He's the boy and she's a grown-up!" Piper argued back, wishing that they'd just leave already so she could get her school work done.

"Because your father has to give them instructions for while we're out of town." Mrs Hart's tone was final and firm, meaning Piper begrudgingly got up from her seat and plodded across the room to help her dad, leaving (y/n) and Henry at the table. Right, the woman had to earn her twenty dollars an hour and she wasn't gonna get a cent if something or someone was broken.

"Good evening, Mr Hart." (y/n) smiled at the man politely, knowing she had to be on her best behaviour until they left. Once they were gone, that was a different story, although she wasn't the type to party and trash the place.

"Hello, Miss (y/l/n)--" Jake began, already feeling like he was leaving his house in safe hands. From his past dealings with Henry's boss, he knew that she was a very nice girl and even if she hadn't been their first choice, he knew that his kids wouldn't mess about with her since Henry said she was great and to his amazement, Piper seemed to like her. How she managed to pull that off he had no idea.

"Oh, (y/n), please. I'm not that fancy."

"(y/n)...are you sure you're gonna be all right here with Henry and Piper?" It was best to ask, of course. He didn't want to overwhelm the poor girl and if she needed any help, they were a mere phone call away. After all, he'd seen the size of her fiancé and he didn't want to be on the wrong side of him at all.

"Oh, yeah, I'll be fine, they're great kids. And if I need anything, I've got you and your wife's numbers." (y/n) promised and offered him a reassuring expression. Rule one, don't let anything get broken. Rule two, don't let Henry and Piper fight. Rule three, no parties. Rule four, don't touch anything unless necessary. Rule five--and so forth. She had it all planned out in that tidy brain of hers and if there was one thing she could do, it was manage someone else's place. Hell, she'd been running a secret hideout for years, how much different was a house?

"Great. Okay, Henry, pick up your phone." And this was where Henry got his instructions. He was gonna be like the second-in-command. Piper was a handful, his parents knew that and even if (y/n) got on with her, they still wanted their son to be vigilant since he was getting to the age where they should've been able to trust him. The woman needed guidance and they wanted him to give it to her...responsibly.

"I'm sorry, what?" Still, it was quite a strange instruction.

"Your phone! I have instructions for you and I want you to get them on video." But when Mr Hart put it like that, it did kinda make sense. He wanted insurance from his own child--a teenager--that was smart. Well, Henry wasn't exactly the typical teen, he only had two friends and he focused on his work more than anything, but still. When the cat is away, the mice will play.

"All right, I'll shoot a video." The boy sighed and got his PearPhone prepared as his dad got camera-ready, (y/n) still sat in between them. Why was this necessary? "Okay, go!"

"Hi, my name is Jake "Dad" Hart. Now, Henry, your mom and I will be in Toronto for three days. Now, follow me, you too, Miss (y/n). I wanna show you both something. Come this way..." Mr Hart smiled at them mysteriously and after sharing a puzzled yet suspicious look, the two complied, following him to the decorative shelving in the middle of the room, the one that separated the kitchen from the sitting area. 

Each compartment was filled with books, knickknacks, a few family photos that (y/n) found adorable, just the general stuff that a family would display in their home - and that included Mr Hart's pride and joy.

"Okay, see this?" He showed them a small toy car, all shiny with its silver chassis polished to perfection and even though (y/n) knew nothing about its significance, she could make an educated guess. It was well looked after and the kind of thing that seemed ridiculous to most considering that it was a child's plaything by all accounts, but she knew it was much more than that. From her experience with her man-child, this wasn't a toy, this was a "collectable", or what normal people called a toy for grown men.

"Yes, I see it."

"It is right there in your hands, sir." They confirmed, eyeing the car with cautious gazes. Yeah, man-babies are protective of their "collectables", especially when they have some ludicrous explanation why no one can touch them, use them or even look at them without explicit permission.

"This is my vintage remote control sports car from the late nineteen-hundreds." Mr Hart's eyes flickered over it like it was his third child or something and that just confirmed her suspicion. No doubt about it, this was one of those and Henry wasn't impressed. At all.

"Wow."

"This is not a toy." There it was, the old saying, right up there with midlife crisis and receding hairlines; the epitome of the middle-aged man. However, even though smiles did threaten to worm their way on their faces, Henry and (y/n) did not break their stony expressions, no matter how amusing his dad was being because sheesh. If looks could kill...

"That is literally a toy." The kid did have a point though. It was just a toy, probably a rare and expensive one, but still. The difference between it and a Barbie doll was just that one was meant for little kids and the other one was meant for big kids...or maybe idiots with credit cards. Who knows.

"While your mom and I are gone, you are not to play with my car." The instruction was clear from the man, no car-playing, message received if a little unnecessary. If she wanted to, (y/n) could go and play with an actual car, a big one with horsepower, not My Little Pony power. Same for Henry, he was way past the "I-see-I-grab-I-ruin" stage, meaning he wasn't a child anymore. He had much better things to do.

"I don't wanna play with it..."

"Play-o, no-no."

"Don't-o, want to." With that settled, Mr Hart then directed his eyes at (y/n) as she shuffled nervously, wondering why all the attention was now on her. Had she broken a rule before they had even left?

"And Miss (y/n), if my car gets broken, you won't get paid tonight or any other night. Not one dollar." Mr Hart told the woman gravely, who was starting to understand just how deep this infatuation with man-child toys went for middle-aged men, but she nodded solemnly all the same. As well as not wanting a stain on her squeaky-clean record, she also didn't want to spend time away from home and her hot fiancé for nothing, she wanted that coin. No car, got it.

"I understand, Mr Hart. No one will touch your to--car."

"Fine. Now, I think your mother has something she wants to tell you." The man moved on, confusing (y/n) for a moment until she realised that he'd turned back to his son, who sighed and looked at the open door, expecting to see his mom there. In the time they had been talking, she'd silently crossed the room and was now standing in the kitchen in all her hotness. Jealousy was an ugly thing yet (y/n) could understand why some men found her attractive, she could almost justify it if it didn't leave a bitter taste settled on her tongue. 

Couldn't she have a bad hair day once? Or catch bubonic plague on the off chance that Ray stopped by to "check-up" on the Hart family?

"Oh, Henry, (y/n), over here!" She called out to them and they quickly angled the camera in her direction so they could get whatever rule she had on video. And this one was gonna be crazy because why else would she behold a goddamn egg? 

"Oh, hey, Mom..."

"Now, Henry, I assume you know what this is." The hot mom started, holding the pale, ovoid thing in between her index finger and thumb. Well, duh, he knew what it was, he had them for breakfast nearly every day but something about her face told him that this was gonna be a lot more serious than most people would deem it.

"It's an egg, Mrs Hart." Well, gold star for (y/n), top of the class as always. 

"This is an egg."

"My deductive reasoning wins again." The woman laughed to herself and Henry shared in her jokey smile, thinking that this was a joking matter, but their grins died down when his mother refused to break her sombre mood. Was it a special egg? Did it come from a lucky chicken? Was the egg the answer to world peace?

"It's hardboiled. Do not eat this egg." Right, no car, no egg, understood. Henry wasn't feeling particularly eggish and (y/n) wasn't a big fan of eggs anyway.

"All right..."

"Don't even touch it." Yeah, like a teenage boy and a grown woman went around feeling up eggs. Honestly, what did they think was gonna happen once they tootled off to the land of moose and maple syrup? Throw the damn thing at the car? "We don't wanna touch it..."

"And (y/n), if anything happens to this egg--"

"I won't get paid, I know. Mr Hart already gave me the drill, so trust me, no one is touching the car or the egg." (y/n) nodded assuredly, giving Mrs Hart a tight smile. Not that she was in the habit of pissing off her employers unless you count Ray, but he wasn't really an employer at this point and she wasn't an employee, more like someone who turned up one day and the rest was happily ever after. 

However, Henry's mom was starting to bug her a bit, call it unresolved beef or a simmering tension but she wasn't a child - she didn't need a lecture, lord knows she'd attended enough of those to know how to do a job properly.

"Good."

"Good for all of us." Henry smiled back at his mother with uneasiness plastered across his cheeks and he patted his friend on the back as the interrogation was over and Mrs Hart went to put her precious egg back in the fridge. She probably had biometric security on the thing to protect it, not that anyone would ever steal it or know what they were looking for.

"Okay, Henry, Miss (y/n)!" And there was Mr Hart, not with instructions this time, thank God, but still, there was something he wanted and the kid was still recording. Something they'd missed?

"Yeah, dad?"

"Mr Hart?"

"While we're gone, no parties." Well, that's more like it. That's more like what (y/n) had been expecting; she'd watched enough crappy romcoms about college students living it up on campus and throwing parties in their parents' house to know that life sometimes truly imitates art - and it gets ugly. 

Tee-peed everything, holes in walls, naked people in the guest bedroom, a bathtub full of cheap beer, looted jewellery, vomit in every plant pot and unspeakable little presents left behind in the beds since the toilet gets clogged with trash. Any homeowner's worst nightmare and for the next few days, she would be the proud defender, the guard standing by their castle. That's what most housesitters and teensitters have to do.

"I won't have any parties."

"If he even thinks of the word "party", I will make him regret it, Mr Hart." And she wasn't kidding, not if the stern, squinted look she threw Henry meant anything. Come on, twenty bucks an hour over three days, that was gonna be one hell of a payday if she did everything right and she kinda needed the money or at least, she wanted it. Badly.

"The only guests you're allowed to have in this house are Miss (y/n), obviously, Charlotte and Jasper....actually, just Charlotte." Mr Hart corrected himself after a few minutes of thinking. Having known the boy since he was a small child, he knew all about Jasper and the chaos that ensued when he was around, plus he just had a general dislike for the kid, so he wasn't welcome in his home.

"So, how are you guys getting to the airport?" Henry asked, trying to work it all out in his head. A taxi would be too expensive, especially if his parents were already paying (y/n), and they could drive themselves because that would mean having to pay to park at the airport, so, where did that leave them?

"Piper's driving us!" Child labour. That's how.

"'Cause I have a driver's license!" The girl smiled into the camera and flashed the fake I.D that had been sent to her so long ago. At least it felt like so long ago and practically everyone knew about it know, except for the government, but that was the whole point.

"Yeah, which they sent you by mistake," Henry argued, trying to gain the argumentative high ground since he was a teeny bit jealous that his sister could drive and was good at it. Sure, she was a bit heavy-footed with the accelerator but in a pinch, it was super useful.

"Still valid!" She growled and put her beloved license back into her bag as Charlotte of all people walked up next to her, which Henry hadn't been expecting. (y/n), being the superheroine badass with all the super-spy knowledge stuff that she'd acquired and what they'd just told her anyway, knew why they were there, but he didn't and certainly not smiling at his sister.

"Oh, hey, Henry! Hi, (y/n)!" The teen girl smiled and waved at the camera, behind which Henry pulled a confused expression.

"Oh, hey, what are you doing here?"

"After I drop mom and dad off at the airport, we're gonna go see a movie. (y/n) was gonna come but she bailed to stay here with you." And the secret was revealed. Piper looked at her brother with an accusing stare because little did many people know, but this wasn't a new thing. The girls made up a friendship group and the youngest sure didn't like it when her nice, older lady friend was taken away by someone like her dumb brother or that dopey fiancé of hers, even if they were couple goals.

Ever since that day when they went to see Galaxy Wars, way back when (y/n) would've disintegrated into atoms if someone told her that one day she'd be engaged to Ray Manchester, they'd been enjoying time with each other, like a small girl squad. The Man Cave was fun and all but sometimes, the woman and Charlotte needed to get out and Piper was a lovely girl when not being pressured to be the "it girl" for social media. 

"With Piper?!" Henry couldn't believe it and under his very nose. Why his sister? She was so mean and spiteful and horrible, and they...weren't. He couldn't think of any reason why they'd want to be friends with her, let alone spend time and money with her.

"Yes. We work with all boys, y'know, we're outnumbered. Sometimes, we need a break." (y/n) answered snappily, not liking what the boy was implying. Going out with them was fun, no matter what he said, she enjoyed it, they all did, no matter what he said. They split the bill, they saw a good movie, they chatted about everything from boys, to the engagement, to bitches in school, to celebrity gossip. What was not to love?

"Speaking of, you sure you don't wanna come with us, (y/n/n)? You can probably buy a ticket when you get there..." Piper asked the woman, hoping that her last-ditch attempt to bring her on board would work. Her house was so boring, her brother was so dull, why would she come and hang with the girls? Didn't she want to tell them all about her wedding plans and get mercilessly teased about how when she started talking about him she couldn't stop?

"I'm getting paid twenty dollars for every hour I watch this house. Trust me, you two go, I'll be fine and the next movie is on me." (y/n) smiled at them, knowing that whilst the offer sounded lovely a chance to express her deep and profound love for her soulmate without hearing groans or remarks of disgust, she couldn't accept. Something about needing to save for a wedding, minus the tickets and snacks ...

"Okay, Henry, (y/n). Well, we better go so we don't miss our plane." Mrs Hart stated as she returned from her eggscapades in the kitchen and smiled up at her husband. Those two were tricky to read: were they or love or weren't they?

"Shotgun!"

"Hey! I called shotgun!" Yeah, (y/n) thought they were. Only idiots in love acted like children, even if they were a little distant sometimes and perhaps a bit too hot towards other men.

"Bye, (y/n)! See ya, Hen!" 

"Dummy...stole my friend." Charlotte waved to her friends as she followed a stomping Piper out of the door. Eh, she'd cheer up once they were at the movie theatre and if not, (y/n) would make sure the next was so brilliant, it was sure to make up for it. 

Right, that's that. Parents in the car, daughter off to the cinema with a reliable friend, housesitting starts now. (y/n) carefully scanned the room for every detail, every little niggling thing that her temporary employers might pick up on if they got back and it was out of place. From now on she wasn't going to relax, but she sure as hell was on century duty, which begged the question--

"So, what do you wanna do now?" And Henry had some ideas. Or one, specifically one.

~Ten minutes later~

Now, Henry's idea of a relaxing time was not what (y/n) had been expecting, not at all. Screw video games or a movie, he opted to eat first, which wasn't so weird to think about until she was sitting with the kid at the kitchen table with a large, skewered corn on the cob placed in front of her, all buttery and perfectly boiled to eat, plus, a can of Wahoo Punch. Not her go-to meal but still, not too bad...until Henry made it weird.

"You're a real freak, do you know that?" She told the boy jokingly as she watched him place a single ice cube in his glass as if he was pouring himself a fine scotch whisky or something and then, this was the revolting part, started with sweet tea. And he was having both the tea and the punch in some crazy cocktail that frankly nauseated the woman next to him. It was like a quarter punch, three-quarters tea, just enough to turn the liquid into a deep rust colour and it was one of his habits that she'd never get over.

"Don't knock it till you try it," Henry smirked and took a long sip of his perfected beverage, appreciating the blend of flavours that seemed to work so well for him. This was what he wanted, a nice, quiet evening with one of his calmer friends, a tasty snack and no parents to bother him and it was all going so well until an unwanted intruder burst onto the scene.

"Hiya, Henry! Oh, hey, (y/n)!" Jasper slapped his hands down onto their shoulders, causing Henry's tea-punch to erupt in a comical spit-take as (y/n) chocked on corn. Thank god for super-regeneration, otherwise, Jasper would have been hunted down by Captain Man until the end of the Earth. 

Seriously, what was he doing here? The two stood up in surprise, thinking for a split second that burglars or mad strangers were trying to attack them but then they looked at their assailant and were filled with irritation and shock. Of course, it was Jasper, who else would sneak up on them like that and go in for such a heavy-handed approach?

"Dude, what the-- How'd you enter my house and why would you do that?!" Henry exclaimed in anger whilst (y/n) gulped down some Wahoo Punch to clear her throat, but to Jasper, there was no big deal, no panic and certainly no concern about nearly killing two of his closest friends via heart attacks. 

"Well, I waited until your parents were in their car, then I crawled through your window and waited until your mouths were full of liquid and food!" The boy explained happily, making their eyebrows furrow in confusion at how he simply didn't care. All he did was swipe Henry's cocktail as (y/n) began to scold him for being so weird and reckless, after all, scaring the shit out of people is thirsty work.

"Okay, Curly, normal guys don't do those things." She told him, trying to be as gentle as possible since she didn't want to hurt his feelings even though he needed to hear her advice. And she was almost certain that some guys did pull pranks like that, hell, she'd place money on her fiancé being one of those impish maniacs, but Jasper didn't need to know that, not when he already seemed so cocky at being able to spook two sidekicks. They'd faced the scummiest scum that had ever been scum on the planet and yet he scared them, the rush of pride was immense.

"Ah, true 'dat!"

Uh, my drink..." Henry limply pointed at his glass as Jasper took a large swig and fouled the sweet combination by tainting it with his saliva and mouth germs. Well, he wouldn't be drinking any more of that, thanks to him, but they were quickly drawn away from that problem as Jasper set out his ulterior motive for his so-called friendly visit to the Harts' residence.

"So, you ready?"

"For what?" Henry and (y/n) eyed him suspiciously, not knowing what he was referring to or what he was up to but they didn't like it. What happened to the peace from before? Couldn't they have that back instead of this headache?

"Fun! Crazy, weird, teenage fun!" Jasper cheered and revealed the first part of his "let's have fun whilst Henry's parents aren't here" plan. Oh no, definitely not, not on (y/n)'s watch. Now, it wasn't like she wanted to be a stick in the mud, she hated to be the one to kill the joy but fun sounded messy and dangerous and reckless, the sort of activity where things would get smashed and damaged beyond repair to the point where she'd be the one paying Mr and Mrs Hart at the end of their trip, not the other way around. 

"Jasper, whatever you're planning on doing, don't because--why do you have a boom box?"

"Where are you going with my corn? Where are you going with my corn?" They watched in confusion as the teen left his small yet stupidly powerful speakers on the kitchen island facing the couch and then walked towards the sitting area, leaving them to wonder what the hell he was doing. 

Firstly, he was ignoring (y/n)'s instructions, which normally wouldn't go down very well, but there was no Ray here, he could do what he wanted. And secondly, he'd again stolen something from Henry, for reasons yet to be revealed, not that they could do anything about it.

"Just get ready to hit play," Jasper instructed them and marched over to behind the couch as Henry continued to lament about his stolen snack, but that was soon put into perspective when Jasper started shuffling awkwardly and looked at them with a fierce gaze as if he was about to do something incredibly brave and stupid.

"All right..." He nodded and (y/n) tapped the play button and a funky if a little tinny, piano beat started to ring out from the speakers, and dear sweet lord, she wished immediately that she hadn't done so. Taking the first note as his queue, Jasper leapt onto the couch from behind, revealing to Henry's horror and (y/n)'s mortified blushes that he'd removed his pants and was intent on dancing on the damn thing, using the corn as a fucking microphone. Jeez, had he been sniffing something?

"Shake it! Like you're never gonna break it!--" The music faded into a rock classic that normally would've rendered them dancing along with Jasper like they were young and free without a care in the world...if only this didn't feel so wrong and weird. Jasper, the cute, awkward kid that (y/n) had watched grow up was prancing around in bright red, baggy, glittery boxers like an idiot, throwing the corn at Henry and splashing his drink like he'd lost control of his inhibitions. She did not need to see this...

"Oh my god, if I watch any more of this, I will be put on some sort of list..." She muttered and swiftly turn her back on the screen and screwed her eyes shut, not wanting to get a glance at something scarring. Henry could have the show, she could happily live her life without it, especially at how...icky it made her feel. 

Even for Henry, it was weird; he'd seen Jasper do a lot of insane shit, but this was one of the worst, particularly when he collapsed onto the cushions and began to wriggle and squirm like he was having some kind of inappropriate fit.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Stop, oh my god, stop!" Henry barked at his friend and silenced the blasting music, having seen enough of Jasper "thinks he's Channing Tatum" Dunlop's performance for one lifetime. Never again would he let his poor eyes see that, even if the image was permanently tattooed onto his frontal lobe.

"What's wrong?" And the hilarious or...worrying thing was that Jasper didn't find any fault in what he'd done and couldn't think of any reason to explain why Henry was pulling such a disgusted face or why (y/n) had her face and scarlet cheeks hidden by her hands.

"That activity you're doing to my couch..."

"Yeah, what about it?" Seriously? Did he find nothing strange about the past few minutes? Not the sparkly red shorts that were so damn short they should've been illegal - honestly, they'd put Daisy Duke to shame. Not the dancing, not the corn-stealing, not the gyrations because what else could they be called? Was none of that weird to him?

"Dude, (y/n) is in the room! Don't do it anymore!" Henry protested, gesturing to the woman standing behind him, who still refused to look. It felt wrong like if anyone found out she'd be chased through town followed by an angry mob with torches and pitchforks, but Jasper didn't mind. (y/n) was like the big sister he'd never had and at this point, she was one of the lads, a member of his crew. They were all friends here...

"Duuuuuuuuuude!"

"That was a long 'dude'," Henry commented as Jasper threw his head back and groaned. This kid needed education on learning to let go of society's boundaries and bullshit expectations. Sometimes, Henry Hart just needed to let go.

"Come here. You too, (y/n), come here!" Jasper hissed, beckoning them over like he was about to tell them some revolutionary, top-secret information that could only be divulged to their ears.  But Henry and (y/n) were a little apprehensive - what if he started dancing again?

"Are you sure it's safe? If I look, am I going to see something I don't want to see?" The woman asked jokingly as Henry reluctantly led her over to Jasper by putting his hand in the crook of her arm and it was only when they were within touching distance that she dared to peek past her fingers. Okay, he was still clothed--only just-- but she could handle the hot pants, just as long as his hips stayed stationary. Jasper put his arm around Henry, who looked quite pale as his fingers clenched around his glass like he was fearing the worst.

"Your parents are in Toronto...all right, that's practically another country." Oh, this kid. He was cute but so...challenged. Still, his friends humoured him and chose to ignore his geographical error in favour of getting to the bottom of whatever the hell he was trying to say.

"Yeah..."

"They've left y/n) in charge of the house..." At least that one was true, however, it didn't reveal any more about what the point of all of this was. Of course, Henry already knew this, it had been drilled into him over the past week or so and he had it on video just in case he somehow forgot. It all seemed so futile.

"Sometimes, you just gotta say...rubber duck."

"Oh, not this shit again." (y/n) groaned as she heard the method behind Jasper's madness. It was this newfangled philosophy of his and he'd constantly used it around her in the Man Cave as an excuse. Spill her ice cream? Rubber duck. Break the supercomputer. Rubber duck. Get tricked into giving a conniving old lady a lamp for free in Junk-N-Stuff? Rubber damn duck.

"Why would I say rubber duck?" Henry asked in confusion, looking at them as if they were aliens. He'd never heard of this dogma before and found it strange, weird, crazy. It was just so random, so Jasper and he felt like he was on the outside of some inside joke or knowledge between them because when they were at work, it's not like he saw Jasper a lot. He didn't go up to monitor the boy in the store like (y/n) did or go to fix the things he broke so their interactions were few and far between. And that had led to some odd things occurring that she had been privy to and not him.

"'Cause! Rubber duck sets you free! It's a way of saying, hey world, I'm gonna have fun! And I don't care what happens...a rubber duck!" Jasper growled into his ear, trying to seem like some shaman imparting his wisdom onto a mere student, one who hadn't yet reached the enlightenment that came from the mystical bath toy known as a rubber duck. That sounded like some hippie bullshit to Henry, who was puzzled by the need to blur simple language with such a strange phrase as (y/n) pinched the bridge of her nose.

Again, not to be a stick in the mud, but in her mind, this rubber duck nonsense was just a way of letting idiots use their get-out-of-jail-free cards when they got into trouble for being too rowdy. And to her, that wasn't cool, that was just irritating to an adult like her who usually had to deal with the aftermath.

"Couldn't I just say that without the rubber duck part?"

"Or not say it at all because it's dumb?" Henry and (y/n) argued and the latter was at least partially happy that Henry wasn't completely sold by the idea, but if Jasper had his way then by the end of the night, he'd be saying it too. And that's what she was dreading; a two-against-one situation.

"No," Jasper replied firmly and took Henry's tea-punch combo away from him because y'know, best buds share everything and it wasn't like (y/n) could complain since she was a renowned beverage thief, even if she only stole from one doofus in particular. And before either of them could complain any further, the doorbell rang, signalling that the night was still young and many more people/challenges were ready to put the woman's housesitting skills to the test.

Just her damn luck.

"Huh, I wonder that is..." She wondered, eyeing the door with shifty eyes, similar to Henry since both of them knew that they hadn't ordered takeout just yet and there were no deliveries scheduled for the next few days just in case taking in a package was too much for the poor, weak dear that Mr and Mrs Hart had left in charge. 

"You'll see..." Jasper, on the other hand, had a shit-eating grin on his face and was looking remarkably shifty as he sipped on his friend's drink and they quickly guessed that he was up to something. They knew a kid with something to hide when they saw one and slowly, they approached the door, too curious to know what was on the other side of the wood to leave the person on the doorstep.

"All right, since I'm in charge, I'll get the door and Jasper, for the love of God, please put some pants on!" (y/n) told the kid strictly, pointing at his exposed legs and shuddering by the glittering fabric that only just covered the top of them. Honestly, she didn't know if she'd ever be able to see the same sweet soul as she did before but a good way to fix it would be to start with hiding away what should have never been seen.

"Rubber duck!" Or not. There was that dumb phrase again, causing her and the blonde boy next to her to turn and flash their serious eyes at him since this was a rubber duck moment - not that they knew what one of those was. 

"Stop saying that!" She snapped, giving him a flash of the anger that rarely rose within her. She very rarely got sharp with the kids, usually, they were angels and sometimes it was easy to forget that Jasper and Henry were teenagers and boys. That made them a bit dumb and arrogant and argumentative, ready for a challenge since they suddenly discovered that they liked biting back, even if they were outmatched. Still, she could keep them in line just about and with him backing off, she opened the door to a new problem.

"Hello, are you Henry? I'm looking for Henry." A chubby man stated as she held the door open and stared at him blankly as he did to her. What the--where had he come from? And since when did she look like a Henry? Why was he at the door? Didn't he know that she had been praying to every god in existence to strike every unwanted visitor with lightning so she wouldn't have to deal with them?

"I am obviously not a Henry." She replied, hoping that the guy would break a smile or move or hell, breathe to show that he was alive and not a wax model, but she got very little in return. The only sign of life was one singular blink, so slow he'd put a sloth to shame, which got even worse when he began to speak again in that monotone drawl of his.

"Are you sure?"

"Uh, yeah, pretty sure and I hope that's what it says here." (y/n) gestured to her face and how she was obviously not the teen boy this man was looking for, but her sarcastic tone did nothing to inspire some energy into him. He ould be a robot, that would explain the slow, drawn-out breaths, or her could be a nutter, that would just about explain everything.

"Uh, no, she's not--I'm Hen...ro." And like her saving grace, Henry was by her side quickly--as soon as he heard his name being mentioned--and now, it was his turn to talk to the guy who thought a beige, suede, unbuttoned waistcoat would go well with a plaid shirt. At first, he was gonna say his name, he didn't see the harm in confirming his identity, but then that paranoid little corner of his brain whispered to him that if this guy was an axe-wielding maniac, would he want him to know who he was if he'd been sent to kill him or something? Definitely not.

"Sounds pretty close to Henry." However, for a man who was pretty slow at speaking, their visitor wasn't too bad at spotting a poor lie, causing Henry to awkwardly smile as he debated just slamming the door in his face.

"Right, but it's different....'cause the O part." Oh, this was painful to hear and watch and (y/n) decided that she couldn't take anymore as she endured Henry's terrible performance, only to hear Jasper sniggering to himself in the background.

"Okay, 'scuse us just a sec..." She gave the man a bright yet false smile as she closed the door in his face, figuring that if Henry was too chicken to do it, then she'd be the one to step forward and give them time to grill Jasper. And grill him they did.

"Who is that guy? What does he want with me?"

"Why is that man at the door? Is he a serial killer? Please tell me he's not a serial killer!" They bombarded Jasper with questions as soon as the wood was in the hole and he scoffed at their worrying, thinking that they were getting way too excited over the little surprise he'd arranged. It wasn't that deep, to be honest, and to him, they were just being ridiculous, especially with the serial killer thing, though, the guy definitely looked like a lumberjack who strangled people in the woods.

"He's not a serial killer, (y/n/n)! I booked us manis!" He grinned, watching as their faces screwed up in thought. Come on, he thought it would be nice, just two guys and one gal getting their nails done because cuticle care is important and maybe it would soften the caretaker of the house up a bit; he was no stranger to the fact that she loved a good manicure since they made her fiancé coo over her shiny nails for days on end - how could she say no?

"What?!" Or, how could they say that?

"That guy does manicures!" He explained, causing the pair to pause. Seriously, the guy at the door did people's nails all fancy and stuff? Talk about confusing appearances...

"Wait, do you mean that that man out there, the one who looks like he would bake all three of us into a pie, he does things to fingernails?... And I don't mean retaining them as keepsakes from his victims..." (y/n) asked, peeking past Jasper's body to see the guy through the glass panel of the door. Jeez, if his skills were correlated to the shock of his job and looks, then he should be a damn good nail tech.

"Yeah, he works at the salon my mom goes to once a year." Ah, yes, the elusive Mrs Dunlop. The woman (y/n) had never met but had heard so much about and none of those whispers into her ears were good. Deep down, she couldn't find it in herself to trust the salon frequented by the woman who by all accounts was a massive weirdo. And she wasn't the only one...

Okay, what makes you think that I would want him to do our nails?!" Henry exclaimed, backing his older friend all the way because what the hell? That guy looked like he could eat him whole and then come back for créme-de-(y/n) or (y/n)-style cheesecake.

"Rubber duck!" Oh, give them strength, he was saying it again!

"That's a bad answer! You can't go through life using a random phrase to excuse every dumb decision you make! Tell him to leave!" (y/n) ordered him, well, politely yet firmly instructed him. Sure, getting a French manicure did sound nice and it would be extra fun to go home and surprise Ray with a fresh set that would make him "ooh!' and "ahh!' over her, but it made her nervous. So damn nervous because this wasn't her house and letting strangers in was against the rules given to her.

"Why should I leave?" Suddenly, the mystery man appeared behind her and Henry and spoke into their ears because that wasn't psychopathic at all. No superhero training could've prepared them for it, not when they suspected him of being a wrong'un and as such, the boy and woman hit the deck with embarrassing squeaks, kinda like small mammals that play dead instead of fighting or fleeing.

"Came in through the back door..." He told them as they sprang back up instantly, already feeling pretty foolish and if the nutjob did strike, then they wanted to be ready to sacrifice Jasper to save their own skins; y'know since it was his idea to invite a madman to the house.

"Okay, sir, I don't mean to be rude, but, uh, I was told by this boy's parents to not let any strangers---" (y/n) began explaining as nicely as she could, hoping that if she was kind and polite, she'd get to keep her head attached to her body, but it seemed like the dude hadn't come alone. And his partner was Leatherface or Freddy Krueger, far from it, the second nail tech was a heartbreakingly pretty young girl, close to the boys' age and for Henry, it was love at first sight.

"Hey...so, whose nails am I doing?" She asked with a flirtatious smile and her hand on a jutted hip. Damn, (y/n) would never get to finish her kick-the-weirdo-out speech because for a babe with luscious blonde hair, big blue eyes and a cute dress like that, Henry would do anything. Screw the murderer man, he wanted that girl to touch his hands and stare into his soul and he wasn't shy about or tactile.

"Mine! Me! Henry! Or Henro, doesn't matter, please do my nails!" Wow, that was subtle, definitely not hilarious for his friends to watch. To be fair to him, he hadn't exactly lucked out in the romance department recently, considering that the last time he showed an interest in a girl, he never heard from her again and what with his Kid Danger duties, he wasn't getting many offers. This angel of a girl had been placed on his doorstep for a reason and he was gonna get his nails done and get her number...or die trying.

"Look, kid, I know you're desperate, but think your mom and dad's--" (y/n) tried to lure him out of whatever rose-tinted love-fest was going on in his mind, but it was foolish to think that she could lure a teenage boy away from a pretty young female. 

"Rubber duck!" And she was left speechless and Jasper was left reeling as he not only left her to warmly welcome the girl into his house, ensuring that he subtly touched the smooth skin of her arm as he did, but he'd also fallen into the dumb trap set by his best friend. Come on, his resilience was pathetic.

"Y'know, I swear I saw something like this on the nature channel once. Something about birds or wildebeest going all goo-goo-eyed for a girl." (y/n) said grumpily, blowing a piece of hair out of her eyes as she and Jasper watched Henry turn up the charm. The girl was allowed to set up her nail things on the coffee table, in fact, she could probably get away with anything when Henry was concerned. He was utterly and totally smitten.

"You mean like the way you and Ray are with each other?" Jasper smirked, chuckling when her mouth opened and closed several times like a goldfish. Damn, checkmate...and it was Jasper Dunlop who rendered her without an argument for the first time in a while.

~

Well, this was cosy. As (y/n) admired her glossy French set whilst they dried, Jasper was getting sat with the lumberjack, who turned out to not be an axe-wielding maniac, just a bit weird. Sure, it was a bit awkward to sit and say nothing as the man filed, buffed and painted, which was a bit unnatural for a nail tech, but he'd done a good job and the woman was very thankful because her hands were now perfectly soft and so pretty. Ray would definitely approve and now, it was Henry's turn.

The boy was sitting on the couch, minding his own business and all the while, he was unaware that he was being hunted. The blonde beauty crossed the room, eyeing him with a mischievous smirk as she stood in front of the fireplace and put her hand on her hip. This kid was cute, she was cute and she wanted to see how flustered he got when she was holding his hands and face-to-face.

"Okay, Henry. I'm ready to do your nails." She said in a soft, alluring tone and the boy stood up with a gormless expression on his face. This wasn't exactly Henry's territory, he had no idea what to do in any manicure situation, let alone one with a girl as pretty as her. Speaking of the girl, as she bent over to rifle through her mobile nail bar case, Henry found himself at somewhat of a loss and extremely nervous, so he did what he thought made sense and offered his hands out to her, just y'know, as he stood next to her. Awkward...

"Do--do we stand? Do I give you my--I don't know what to do." Yeah, he was clueless, but it was also so damn adorable to witness. Since she wasn't exactly busy, just in the drying stage, (y/n) had all the time in the world to observe them as her friend got all sweaty and rubbed his fingers together; this was romcom shit, her kind of entertainment and it was live, almost as if she'd crawled inside her TV and was witnessing the boy meets girl stage. It felt real, and then the music started...

"The first time I saw you, I already knew that you could be mine and I was open for you. Then you took my hand and the sparks that went flying through the air..." Seriously, it couldn't have been more perfect as the two sat down and began to smile at each other with the kind of butterflies in their stomachs that only came from a teen crush. She held his hands so gently and didn't even comment on how they trembled from the anticipation - why did he mock the Man Cave couple again?

"I like you and you like me, together we could be. I bet you would like it, yeah, bet you would like it..." Okay, Jasper had been right, this was a great idea. 

The nail techs were no trouble at all for (y/n) as she sat back and read an outdated magazine she'd found in a cupboard; Henry and the blonde, who'd been identified as Layla, were getting on like a house on fire, swapping hushed giggles that were kept secret from everyone else, whilst Jasper laughed it up with her colleague, also known as Zack. It turns out that an odd boy and an odd man have a lot in common, so the house was cheerful yet peaceful for quite a while until a rather spooky incident occurred.

Out of nowhere, the door suddenly blew open, a new phenomenon that took everyone by surprise since a load of leaves were blown in at the same time. Weird, it hadn't been blustery earlier and the weather hadn't forecasted a storm, so they couldn't place a finger on why the door would swing open like that, but then, it all became clear. Doors only open with human intervention...

"Jasper, turn off the music!" Henry called to the boy as (y/n) left her magazine for later and stood up to go and investigate. If anyone was gonna take on a weirdo at the door, it might as well be her since she would recover from the mad strangling, even if it would be difficult to explain away. Jesus, the leaves were everywhere, no doubt something for her to clean up since Mr and Mrs Hart couldn't come home to a mess, that would just be sloppy.

"Okay, why did that door just blow open?" Henry asked (y/n) as she edged closer, but it was difficult to hear anything over all the noise, which seemed to be getting louder and louder like someone had turned a vacuum cleaner on right next to her ear.

"What did you sa--doofus?" (y/n)'s fists clenched and her eyes started to sparkle as the mystery was solved when Ray of all people came strolling through the door with a huge leaf blower in his hands. 

Okay, she didn't know why he was at Henry's house, but how could she send him away when he was looking so hot? His shirt was perfect, a classic Manchester special--cinched in at the waist and deliciously tight around his biceps. His hair was styled but not overly so, still floppy enough for her to run her fingers through, especially that one strand that never seemed to stay gelled with the rest. He was a goddamn vision, a sight for sore eyes and a very pleasant surprise.

"Hey, sweet girl! Hey, Henry! Look at my new leaf blower!" The man shouted at them excitedly as he trusted the device at them, no doubt knocking a load of stuff over with the powerful gales conjured by his new toy, but he was just too happy to be with his darling girl and best friend again. There was only so much Schwoz and Charlotte smartassery that a man could take and he thought his fiancée might like a little visit since it had been a whole three hours since he'd last seen her. 

The leaf blower thing was just a cover, but they didn't need to know that.

"It's cordless...No cord!" He grinned at them, making (y/n) struggle to hide her smile at how dumb he was. Yeah, that's what he'd been missing, her smile and even more the way she giggled at his goofy ways as he finally turned the thing off and offered an arm out to her - an invitation for her to jump into his arms.

"That's nice, sweetheart..." She grinned at him and rested her hands on his cheeks as they leaned in for a gentle kiss, a welcome greeting after not seeing each other for a while. 

She was staying the night here, had arrived at the house armed with a sleeping bag and some essential toiletries so she could camp out on the couch for a couple of nights, and that was a new thing for them. 

He didn't see the need for her to stay at the house and leave him at home. He hated the idea of going to sleep in their bed alone with more space than he was used to, but she'd insisted, something about wanting to make sure Henry didn't get loopy off sugar and throw an all-night house party. It wasn't exactly luxury and she'd miss him too but he'd be waiting for her to come home, right? That was motivation enough, his spontaneous visits and lips on hers were just bonuses. 

"Who's he?" Layla demanded to know, feeling a little uncomfortable at how the peace had been shattered by this unexpected and unwanted visitor, who was now canoodling with the woman in charge like no one else was in the room. Jeez, she was all for love and it was kinda sweet and they seemed to emit rays of sunshine and rainbows from just how happy they made each other, but jeeeez. They were so touchy and kissy and huggy and....cute.

"My boss."

"My fiancé," Henry answered at the same time as (y/n), giving the girl an idea of what kind of guy she was dealing with here. Her crush sounded tired in an annoyed sort of way, whilst the woman couldn't stop smiling and didn't even take her eyes off her lover once they'd pulled back. It was then that she took notice of the ring on her finger, still shining, still beautiful, even one month after the proposal and it made sense then; they were on cloud nine in romance terms, no wonder they couldn't focus on anyone else.

"That's right!" Ray laughed and pointed his leafblower in his sidekick's face, cackling when his blond quiff danced all over the place and his skin wrinkled from the powerful air. He only did it to get a laugh out of his sweet girl and because he was a massive child on the inside, but when she hit his shoulder and bit her lip to contain her chuckles, he stopped. Henry's bored face said it all.

"Oh, man..." He laughed and turned his head to peck his girl's forehead as he thought about his next move now that he'd annoyed some people. What else could he do that would excuse him from going home prematurely? Was he hungry? Was (y/n) hungry? Free food in the house, free utensils, what'd ya know, he had himself a plan. "I'm gonna go make a sandwich..."

"Raymond...don't make a mess and don't use everything!" (y/n) shouted after him as he plodded off to go and raid the fridge for whatever took his fancy (and whatever he knew she liked), and with her strict instructions, he found himself needing some sweet girl supervision. 

"Or you could come help me!" He suggested, placing the leafblower down on the kitchen counter as he passed it and the woman knew that if she refused, he'd just get pouty. Oh well, it had been a hot minute since she'd seen him, kissed him, felt his arms around her, so why not? At least this way she could make sure he didn't break something or create a spillage that he wouldn't clean up on his own.

"Fine, I think I saw some cheese or lettuce or maybe some ham in the fridge earlier, so what do you w--agghhhh!" Having left the boys to carry on their beauty treatment, (y/n) followed her doofus over to the kitchen, intent on taking a few things from the fridge and hoping that her employers wouldn't mind. 

They said so could eat whatever she wanted, but she supposed that came with the assumption of eating anything within reason. Obviously, they didn't want their fridge to be raided and she wasn't planning on doing that...mainly because she never actually made it to the damn thing. 

Ray got to her first. Rather embarrassingly, she let out a small yelp as his arms encircled her waist and dragged her body back into his, trapped between him and the island. In an instant, his head dipped to push his nose and lips against her neck, a sensation that made her giggle quietly at how ticklish it was, but it wasn't enough to cause suspicion, more like just enough to make him grin against her skin and her knuckles to turn white as they gripped the counter's edge. 

"I missed you." He confessed in her ear, causing her cheeks to heat up and her tummy to flutter when his hands started exploring. With nowhere to go, she just had to pray that Layla and Zack were too focused on their jobs to notice anything going on in a kitchen that was suspiciously quiet to say that they were supposed to be making sandwiches. 

"It's been, like, three hours, doofus. Still got another two whole days to go yet." (y/n) smiled, trying to stomp down that sad twinge in her heart that tried to pull her down too. It was just two days; it really wasn't that long, and although the thought of having no more visits like this one did seem to make the whole thing seem so long and laborious, the bigger picture helped to put it all in perspective. 

Comparing a harmless weekend to ten years of arduous, lonely nights of thinking that her heart was longing for something it would never get gave her her answer. 

If she could wait for a decade, she could make it two nights. 

"I know...don't know how I'm gonna sleep tonight without you next to me." Ray, not so much. Two days, ten years, it was all the same to him. He'd done his waiting, nearly lost his mind from it, and now he hated not having her close. It just brought back bad memories. Like all the times he cursed himself for admiring her in a particularly stunning dress, put himself down for dreaming that she might feel the same way or  when he shed a tear after waving her off on a date that wasn't with him. 

"Well, I could call you and then, we could talk until two AM like those teenagers in Fifty Boys I've Loved Before and do the game where we see who hangs up first." She teased him, reaching back to run her fingers through the hair that brushed against the nape of his neck - just long enough to feel silky smooth and just long enough for her to yank.

It was a novel idea, a situation that only existed with the three walls of a movie where teens wasted their parent's monthly wage on one phone bill but it was so cheesy and so them, (y/n) was up for trying it. Why wouldn't they stay up half the night giggling nonsense into the receiver until their sleep pattern was well and truly screwed? Falling asleep to each other's voices sounded perfect, just like normal and better than any lullaby. 

"And what if my mom finds out I've been calling a girl all night--oh, no way! No way, no way, no way!" Ray's joking around soon stopped when purely by chance, he happened to raise his gaze from his girl's pretty face, y'know simply to check if anyone was watching them, not that he cared, and that's when he saw it. The car. 

He was like a goddamn damn magpie, the minute he saw something shiny and silver, his interest was piqued and this specific treasure tugged at his curiosity like nothing else. It was difficult to choose between his love and getting a closer look, but it was just too great, his brain quelling his heart's objections by arguing that his soulmate was likely to follow after them if they edged closer, so that's what he did. 

Dear god, it was beautiful, not as beautiful as his gorgeous fiancée, but just like he'd seen in those middle-aged men's magazines and boy, did it satisfy the child within him. Come on, it was a toy meant for grown-ups, it was like it had practically been put there for him. The rarest of the rare, a trinket for him to admire but not touch. (y/n) wouldn't allow that. 

"Wait, Raymond, no, no, no, no! Stop touching, no touching, put it down!" She ordered, feeling her previously fluffy heart turn to water as her silly doofus plucked Mr Hart's precious plaything from its shelf so he could check it out. Great, that's just what she wanted, Ray's paws all over it and it's not like she didn't trust him it's just that...she didn't trust him. It sounded mean like that but it was true; he had clumsy sausages for fingers, a sponge for a brain and zero luck, so there was no wonder that she foresaw an accident when he picked it up.

"Dude, that's my dad's! We're not allowed to touch it!" Henry was quick to join in the argument too, having leapt to his feet and left Layla behind when his boss stopped being handsy with (y/n) in favour of being handsy with something else. Yes, they all saw but said nothing, they never did, it was just easier to carry on with the manicures and pedicures rather than split them apart, but now, he was being serious. His life depended on that thing staying intact and functional.

"Well, don't mean that I can't!" Ray grinned at them childishly. He just had to find a loophole, didn't he? It wasn't him getting paid twenty bucks an hour, he didn't care, all he had to do was just swan off and leave them to complain about it later, no skin off his back. Maybe if it broke, he'd get to sleep with his girl tonight, after all, maybe she'd quit before the heat was on her, that sounded more like it, but (y/n) wasn't about to risk that situation coming into fruition.

"Give it, doofus."

"Aww..." Immediately, Ray fell into a deep, sulking pout as she snatched the car from his hands, careful not to scratch the paint, chip the glass or knock a wing mirror off. Honestly, he was too handsome to pout, it caused too many lines on his face and it tugged on her heartstrings knowing that he wasn't happy about something but she had to toughen it out like any parent disciplining a child. Don't fall for the frowny face.

"If this thing breaks, I'm not getting paid and I'll have to pay to get it fixed or replaced, meaning you won't be getting laid for the next month. So, stop pouting and move." She told him firmly and knowing that she wasn't lying about any of it, Ray quickly sidestepped to let her past. As delicately as she could, (y/n) placed the car in the same position it had been in before, hoping that Mr Hart wasn't too strict about a few finger smudges here and there. 

And that allowed Ray to have another look around; just because that was off-limits didn't mean that he had to stop looking for something else to satisfy his childlike wonder. And it wasn't difficult to let the next best thing steal his attention, after all, this one had buttons, an electric current and something he could push and pull. It was perfect.

"Oooh, the remote!" This would do nicely. It was still connected to the car, but not the main attraction, so he figured that it couldn't hurt to play with it - a few taps of the buttons here, a flick of the joystick there. Where was the harm in that?

"No, Ray. Don't touch the remote!" (y/n) whined, making grabby hands for the thing before he broke it because if the car was worth a lot and treasured possession, then she guessed that the same could be said for the remote that powered it. What use was the car if the remote didn't work? None, but Ray wouldn't let her have it, not even as his eye caught the ring, not even when she was the pouting one. Nope, he merely kept it close to his chest.

"Uh, sweet girl, I think I know how to work a remote for a remote-control car, okay?" He scoffed, pinching her cheek because her concern was cute, but as always, he thought he knew better. 

Pressing the button under his thumb, the car roared to life with its back wheel squealing and its headlights illuminated. Sweet cheese, it was a cool bit of tech and in different circumstances, (y/n) probably would've loved to get a look at all that retro circuitry, but not with the toy that was the difference between a payday and a payout.

And it all went downhill from there. The thrust from the vehicle was too much for it to handle and when Ray took off the brake and pushed the joystick forward, only the inevitable could happen. The car skidded over the edge of the shelf, propelled by all the power generated from its tiny electric motor and to everyone's horror (and Ray's shame), it was headed straight for the discarded pedicure bucket that Jasper formerly had his tootsies in. 

"Nooooooooo!" It was like slow motion as Henry, (y/n) and even Ray ran to save the car from drowning its circuits. All that training was coming in useful, they each had impeccable timing but Henry was the fastest, a factor derived from those super-fast reflexes, which proved to be extremely useful as he sank to his knees and caught the car just in time. No fried electrics, no soaked seats, no soggy tires. Talk about having a heart attack

"Oh, thank god...See? This is why we don't touch things that aren't ours!" (y/n) scolded Ray as everyone breathed a massive sigh of relief and allowed their bodies to relax. The man offered her an apologetic pout as if he'd just received a telling off from teacher. Still, the car was safe, it wasn't damaged and they were out of the woods...

"Henry, careful! Your nails!" Layla exclaimed because for some unknown fucking reason, she was more worried about her crush smudging the clear coat she'd put on his nails rather than saving the car that his father had specifically told him not to break. And understandably upon hearing the pure urgency and panic in her voice, Henry yelped...and most heartbreakingly, dropped the car in the damn water. Shit.

"Aghhhhhh! No, no, no!" Henry screamed as he watched the car fizz and pop and die as the water ruined its components and short-circuited everything. Oh god, he was gonna get screwed for this and he knew exactly who to blame. The one who couldn't keep his paws off, the one who couldn't listen, the one who couldn't understand when no means no. Not Layla, she was too cute to be in trouble, no, his culprit was Ray, that stupid, stupid man-child who he would happily boil in oil if he wasn't indestructible. 

"Uh...all right. Just, uh, I know you're mad at me, but I think I know what to do here, I'll be...hang on..." Ray laughed nervously as Henry gave him a death stare, and if looks could kill then he'd definitely be dead by now. But luckily for him, they couldn't, meaning it was safe for him to circle the couch, his hand tightly gripping (y/n)'s as she followed him in confusion, possibly to kill him for being such a moron or perhaps to protect when Henry pounced. Either way, he was able to nervously return the remote to the spot that it should never have left and he tiptoed to the door dragging (y/n) with him.

"Ray, I'm not leaving, the car--" Her protests about how she thought he was pulling her away from the sinking ship were silenced when he kissed her in the blink of an eye. It was rushed, unexpected and not very coordinated as he moved his lips against hers in a desperate attempt to savour the experience before he had to leg it, but she sighed and melted against him just as she did with all the others. 

There wasn't a doubt in her mind that this was a goodbye kiss, he could never leave without one and it just reaffirmed that tonight was gonna be a lonely one. It was over too quickly; one minute he was there, the next minute he was gone, running off into his car and driving off into the night to save his skin. 

Her wrist carried his warmth for a few seconds after he tore himself away, a reminder of how tightly he'd held her before he realised why he was holding her so close and trying to commit everything he already knew to memory again. Maybe it would stave off the sadness.

With Ray gone, the group was left in silence, all eyes on the seething boy as he slowly lifted his dad's car from the bucket, water cascading from every gap that it seeped into. Jesus, even when he opened the door more poured out, showing that the thing was thoroughly drenched and unlikely to ever run again without some serious intervention. good thing that Henry was friends with a mechanical engineer, that shit was second nature to her, rewiring and fixing stuff. 

"Feels bad!" Henry whined to his friends, echoing his signature catchphrase but without his usual cheeriness. Okay, no need to panic, yes, it was bad, horrific even, hundreds of dollars were on the line here for everyone, but they had time to fix it. A couple of days to make things right was a good thing, a positive when everything seemed so glum.

"Okay, it's fine, we can fix this, no problem. Just don't turn it on and put it in rice while the manicure people give me their glasses and a spotlight." (y/n) was quick off the mark, ignoring the crushing guilt gnawing at her mind since it had been her responsibility to keep everything safe and it had been her lover who'd screwed everything up. Therefore, she felt like it was her duty to make it right, plus, she had the expertise to root out the problem and repair it.

"What? Why?" Henry asked curtly, still in quite a crabby mood since he was pointing the finger at one person in particular. (y/n) had always been like an extension of Ray and vice versa, where one was, the other followed, so he channelled all the anger he felt towards his boss into her, which wasn't very fair but hey, it made him feel better.

"Because the rice will absorb the moisture and I need something to magnify the electronics and light so I can look at them. I didn't do a degree in engineering just to do math, y'know." She replied in a flat tone, fully aware that the kid wasn't his best self right now and whilst it would be nice to snap back, it wouldn't help much. He was just mad and needed time to calm down and in that time, she could get to work.

"Well, I wouldn't need your stupid degree if your fiancé hadn't made me drop my dad's car in a bucket of water!" Well, rude much? It was so hard not to shout in his face, to say something harsh back because what he said was meant to be hurtful to some extent and of course, the kid normally wouldn't dare to be mean to the woman who'd given him so much advice and care over the years, but he was lashing out. (y/n) could take it, at least she didn't show any reaction.

"Just go find some rice!" That got him moving, thank god and Jasper shrugged awkwardly when they shared a glance. Obviously, he didn't know what to make of the situation either, Henry was normally so nice, but when it came to his dad disowning him or not, he could be a real monster. Scary...

~Forty minutes later~

After a good towelling and a stint in a sack of basmati, the car was ready for service. Climbing up onto the kitchen counter and lying flat on her back like she was under an actual car, (y/n) delved deep into every wire, every board and every connection she could find in the toy as Henry and Jasper held it over her face. This was her in her prime, in her element as it were and if wasn't for the elephant in the room she would be having a whale of a time.

It was a delicate operation, she didn't want to do any more damage than had already been done, not with prying eyes around, but the good news was that it was fairly simple for someone who'd worked under Schwoz for so many years. The nineties had produced some beautiful stuff and this little gadget was one of them, so it would be a pleasure to work on it for Henry as reparation, all he needed to do was give her the go-ahead and not insult her in the meanest way possible.

"All right, boys. Set the car down because I am done!" She grinned and slowly sat up from the cold granite once the car was out of danger from headbutts. Jeez, her back was stiff, lying flat really brought out her age, but oh well, she was vertical now and flicked the magnifying headset that the nail techs had graciously lent her up to her forehead. Not her usual kit; it stank of acetone but it did the job because if it worked for doing nail art, it worked for fine electronics.

"So, what do you think? Can you fix it?" Henry asked her, praying for good news since that would stop the nerves zooming around his stomach and lower his blood pressure. If it was broken beyond repair, then he was screwed, destined to die in two days because his dad would never forgive him, but her smile looked promising...maybe?

"Yeah, it's not actually that difficult, so I don't why you brought him here!" She snapped, suddenly turning to look at the elephant who'd been summoned at the drop of a hat by a boy and clearly doubted her skills. 

A spare mechanic as it were, a dude he'd found online who claimed to be an expert in repairing old gadgets as if he needed one. Seriously, she was quite insulted, just because she'd never been formally employed by a garage or company didn't mean she didn't know an exhaust manifold from a capacitor. 

She was better than some guy who'd appeared out of nowhere and judged her work like she was the scum of the Earth - a woman who dared to step into the world of engineering and think she could work with the big boys. Yeah, because he was really channelling Elon Musk right now with his dopey glasses and burger shirt, he looked like a real "professional". 

"Because I need my dad's car to be in exactly the same condition as it was before, so I want a proper guy to do it! So, can you fix it?" Henry's gaze then turned to the burger man, this so-called expert in retro toys. Maybe he did know what he was doing, maybe he knew more about the car than (y/n) did but still, she knew she could do this and the outside of the car was fine, it was the circuits that needed worrying about. The art she was good at and he wouldn't let her do it. The nerve of this kid. 

"Yeah, I can fix it. Too bad, sweetheart." Burger boy snorted at (y/n), making her bite her tongue to hold in the torrent of filth that would be heading her way if she wasn't so nice. She was a "proper guy", why couldn't Henry see that? And Jasper wasn't helping much, sure, he gave her a sympathetic smile, but he didn't want to upset his friend more than he already was. Looks like the pleb was here to stay. 

"Thank you!"

"Oh, that is great news!" The boys were so relieved at hearing the man could fix it because their other option was a tad more "risky". It's not that they didn't trust (y/n), it's just they wanted to get a professional in so they could say they gave the car the best TLC they could find, which was fine. Perfect. Fantastic. But didn't they know that commercial prowess came at a cost?

"It'll cost you three thousand bucks." There was the catch that had their grins falling and (y/n) choking. When he said bucks, did he mean cents? Because holy Jesus, that was a small fortune for two teens who had next to nothing in their bank accounts. 

"Three thousand?! Are you taking the piss? The repair is so damn simple, it should be one dollar!" (y/n) exclaimed, unexpectedly feeling quite protective over the boys, even if they had brought this by themselves. 

Yeah, this guy was the kind of asshole who was smug about his skills and a conman, praying on people who were desperate enough to pay anything if it meant their treasures could be restored. But she knew for a fact that he was just being a dick and even if they were millionaires, there was no way she'd pay that amount for something that would take two seconds max. Degrees do come in useful sometimes...

"Listen, darlin', this is a vintage remote control car from the nineteen hundreds." He looked at her in such a condescending way, (y/n) wanted to smack him right where that stupid moustache rested on his upper lip. Because she'd been able to come to the same conclusion as him, he now felt the need to stomp on her, put her back in her place as a guy who probably lived in a shed with nothing put empty takeout cartons and old motors to keep him company was obviously her superior. 

"Yes, I know. I'm looking at it." 

"Then, why'd you go dunk it in water?" Wow, stupid as well as ignorant. They knew the value of the car, did he really think they'd do something like this on purpose? The more he talked, the less faith (y/n) had in him and she just wanted to push him out of the door and do the job herself because everything was becoming a lot more complicated than it needed to be. And a lot more shouty.

"I didn't mean to! It was her fiancé's fault!" Henry yelled back, still feeling quite touchy about the events that had transpired not too long ago, everything was still too raw to poke at. Whilst he'd stopped firing too many insults, he was still being irrational and loud, which stemmed from the fear of his dad returning home and finding the car broken and slightly damp, and now, his glare was on the burger man. 

"All right!... If you ever want a new fiancé, I know where you can find one, darlin'." Why did she always attract the weirdos? Giving him an eye roll and folding her arms, (y/n) turned her back on the revolting man, who obviously thought he was god's gift to women or something. Like she'd ever leave her loveable doofus for a moron like him, the thought made her shudder, more than the idea of him effectively stealing money the boys didn't have. 

As if that wasn't enough, here came Piper and Charlotte, right on cue, like they knew the perfect time to come home - in the middle of a situation. The youngest was still holding her soda from the movie, Charlotte had some candy, but neither was aware of the shitshow they were walking into and for them, it was all still giggles and swapping jokes. No stress, no panic, just a blissful ignorance that didn't break until Henry's foul mood clouded their happiness.

"Hey!"

"We're back from the movie!"

"Oh, great! Did you bring me three thousand dollars?" He asked sarcastically, coming over as they came into the room, wondering what had made him so crabby. They had no idea what he was talking about, all they knew was that their movie was great, they'd had an amazing time and now they were hoping to chill with (y/n) and tell her all about it. What was his problem?

"No..."

"But I brought you half a box of Mild Doods." Charlotte offered, hoping she could appease the angry beast with a peace offering. It was a small sacrifice if it meant he wouldn't bite her head off and whilst Henry wasn't so keen, Jasper could go for a Dood. And that gave them a chance to throw their questioning eyes at (y/n); she'd tell them what was wrong, that was the girl code.

"Ooh, I'll take some Doods."

"Wanna manicure?" Zack sudden;y appeared behind the girls. Yeah, the car fiasco wasn't his problem, therefore, he didn't care about his client's problems. Their money was much more appealing and if he could squeeze a few extra dollars, he'd be doing all right to say that he and Layla had been called out to a madhouse.

"Uh, who are you and why are you in my house?" Piper asked, eyeing the new stranger with a cautious gaze. Stranger danger and all that, and this guy was asking to look at her nails, meaning she got the same serial killer vibe that the others did before, but as always, Jasper was quick to respond.

"Oh, they're professional manicurists. That's Layla and that's Zack. He is unbelievab--" Just as Jasper started bragging about how the serial killer was actually a pretty nice guy and a wicked nail tech, Piper happened to glance at the man next to him, who (y/n) was still glaring daggers at. And then she saw it. The car. Broken. In his hands. Three thousand dollars worth of memories and threats in his palms and now she understood why the atmosphere in the house was so tense. Because they were in massive trouble.

"Oh my god!" She gasped and stormed over to the mechanic to snatch the car out from his hands. "You played with dad's vintage car?"

No, I didn't play with it! Okay? My boss, also known as (y/n)'s dumb fiancé, came in here and drove it into some foot water and now, it's gonna cost me three thousand bucks to fix it!" Henry replied, stress colouring every tone. Okay, only (y/n) got to call Ray dumb, but a fair point, it was a pretty stupid move, not that arguing about it would get them anywhere. 

"You are not paying him three thousand dollars for that! Just give it to me and I'll do it for free!" The woman offered, trying to get through that stubborn side that had hardened the more the boy grew. He could be so annoying sometimes, if he just let her get hold of the thing, she'd show him that it was a simple flick and twist and that was the repair over, but he didn't trust her. Jerk.

"No, (y/n), I already told you! I need someone who knows what their doing and that guy does, so I'm paying him three thousand dollars!" Henry argued back and (y/n) just left it there, preferring to sit and seethe than waste her breath. What was the point? Every time she tried to say something, he shot her down, every time she tried to grab the car, he yanked it back, he just wouldn't listen and she figured that the only way he'd learn was to let him see that she was in the right and he was in the wrong. 

"Uh, I hate to bring this up but you and your friends owe Zack and me seventy-five bucks for the manis." Layla's voice tapped into the conversation, adding yet more bad news for Henry to stress over. Great, now it was three thousand and seventy-five bucks - an added expense from the treatment they'd each had done, which to be fair, wasn't a lot for the superb job they'd done but it didn't help. 

"Yeah, okay..."

"Whoa, seventy-five dollars is pretty cheap for three manicures," Charlotte commented, making the manicurists go all smug. Yeah, they were cheap but good, that's what made them so popular; what little they lost in the discounted price, they made up for in the sheer number of clients they received.

"Yeah, it's pretty cheap..."

"Okay, people! Look, my parents are gonna be back in two days! And when my dad sees that I broke his dumb toy car, he's gonna make my mom kill me and (y/n) because she was supposed to be the responsible one!" Henry shouted over the idle chitchat, feeling his self-control burst when they all went off on a tangent that wasn't helping him get the money to fix the car. 

And (y/n) could understand that because technically, as annoying as he was right now, he was right. Mrs Hart would kill her and then refuse to pay, so even if she couldn't repair it, they had to find a way to get the bozo over there to do the honours.

"He had a point. I've been here for five hours, that's one hundred dollars and I would like to cash in at the end of this." She muttered. Getting her money was pretty important and of course, she wanted to make sure that Henry survived this, so for all his whining and moaning and complaining and insisting that she was just an idiot with a degree, she was gonna stay. Siblings annoy siblings but they stay together, right?

"Look, son, if I may..." And that pig-headed mechanic just had to stick his nose in, it wasn't enough for him to take advantage of a couple of teens who were too scared to trust one of their closest friends, but now, he was stirring the pot. If he wasn't careful, the guy was gonna earn himself a smack in the nose.

"You need me to fix your dad's car before your parents come home, so you need to get your hands on three thousand bucks--"

"Still a rip-off." (y/n) butted in, causing the man to send her an irritated side-eye but she didn't care because it was the truth. She knew it, he knew it, the only people who refused to see it that way were the ones scrounging to find the money.

"Yeah..." Henry batted (y/n) away so she'd stop throwing in her sly comments and gave the man a tired look. This better be good for him to waste his precious time like this.

"So, why don't you have a party? Invite a bunch of teenagers here on Saturday night and you two! You must know other people who give manicures..." Oh, god. He wasn't serious, was he? That was the opposite of what they needed; did (y/n) need to bring up the scenario of what teenagers do at a house party? Plants dying from being watered with vomit, trees decorated with toilet paper, and the beds, dear lord, the beds. 

"I know a lot!"

"Yeah, we do!"

"There you go! You get your friends to get their friends, you have a wild mani-party, make some money, split the profits and you should have enough cash left over to pay me to fix your dad's car." The repairman proposed, sending Henry into a deep pondering state, which the woman on his right couldn't believe. Was he thinking about it? Oh, sure, it would be great when Mr Hart came home to both a broken car and a decimated house, that would be brilliant; bye-bye dignity, bye-bye wedding, bye-bye to their friendship because she'd never recover.

"You're not actually considering this, are you? You know I can't let you do this..." (y/n) whispered to Henry, acting as the angel on his shoulder when the burger-shirt guy was the devil, tempting him into sin. God, being the killjoy was hard but it was the smart thing to do, they could get three thousand dollars somewhere else or y'know, just let her do it. Parties weren't her thing, from both a personal and professional standpoint; they just filled her with dread, much like the way Henry sighed at the mechanic.

"I don't know...she's right, my parents said I'm not allowed to have parties while they're out of town. They won't give (y/n) her money if something goes wrong..." Henry told the dude and the woman felt grateful that he was at least considering her interests as well as his own. It was nice to know he cared about her efforts to pay for the best day of her life, whenever it would be, but no matter how worried he looked, her rival seemed relentless in his struggles to squeeze every penny he could get.

"Kid, sometimes you just gotta say...rubber duck!" Fuck her, it was like that damn phrase was following them, haunting their every move. As her eyes closed in frustration, a method of trying to quell the anger settling in her stomach, Jasper leapt up at the sound of someone else using his new motto. It wasn't just him, he wasn't alone in this, sure, the only other person was an asshole but still.

"See?!" Burger boy had truly made his day.

~A while later...party time~

"The party was off to an amazing start."

Remind (y/n) why this was a good idea again. The neighbours surrounding the Harts' residence were starting to get grouchy and for good reason; having decided to just "rubber duck it", Henry and his friends had contacted everyone they knew to try and get a party going and holy shit, it had worked.

"Charlotte, Jasper, Piper and I invited tons of our friends. (y/n), of course, hated it but she didn't say anything. We couldn't hear her over the music anyway."

The floor was vibrating and the walls were in danger of cracking from the loud, thumping bass beat from the music and the crowds, well, they were swarming. Friends had phoned friends, and then they had phoned their friends, leading to masses of people flocking to Henry's home like it was the place to be because honestly, it was. The manicurists were loving it, all their nail artist friends had come over to take advantage of all the teens living it large and the money was rolling in.

"And Layla, the prettiest manicurist I ever saw, she invited a bunch of her friends, other manicurists."

Jasper, naturally, was the doorman, greeting and vetting anyone who tried to get in since they weren't gonna let just anyone into the house. As per (y/n)'s frantic advice, they were trying to avoid that apocalyptic tale of a trashed house and whilst the riffraff was staying outside, it didn't mean to say that things were staying squeaky clean. 

These people didn't care if they threw their trash on the floor or wiped their sticky hands on the curtains, they weren't the ones cleaning up. All they did care about was the sad-sack adult hovering over them with an eagle eye for troublemakers - that would be (y/n).

It was like college all over again, the noise, the stench, the heat, the tangle of sweaty bodies trying to dance and fumble to take a selfie all at the same time. She wasn't a big fan of them, then, she wasn't a big fan of them now, especially not when she had to be the one telling arrogant boys and bitchy girls off for getting a tad too rambunctious for her liking. You'd think that she'd be used to being called a nerdy little twerp, who should go and crawl back to whatever math paper she'd left behind, by now, but no. It still stung, but at least it wasn't true.

Popularity after high school doesn't mean shit; they'd all leave for college and then the real world where they were nobodies. The jocks would just become assholes, the bitches wouldn't be able to step on people and they'd find themselves being the losers for once, the ones with no experience. That was comforting, knowing that one day, someone would smack them in the mouth and they'd learn their lessons.

"And the money! Oh, man...it's, like, insane how much these kids will pay for a quality manicure." Henry chuckled as he narrated the events of the night to some dude he'd never met before. He didn't know why, but he just felt so cool and was riding the high that came from being the one to organise a great party. He had some dark glasses, a soda, a porch to sit on and chill, he felt like a god...but the same couldn't be said for the other guy. He just felt awkward.

"Uh, yeah...do I have to sit here and keep listening to you narrate?" He asked, glancing up from his phone so he could look at the boy who kept talking to him like they were friends. But Henry was just walking down memory lane, too blissed out from the recollection to care if he was being weird...

"Then, at one point, earlier in the night, I went to get a soda and Layla walked up to me. And out of nowhere, she says..." Henry remembered the sway of the crowd as he moved through the house, careful not to spill his when Layla stepped in front of him.

"Have you ever made spaghetti on a sailboat?" Okay, random, but she was so cute, he couldn't bring himself to laugh at her and just smiled softly. How could anyone not smile softly around such beauty?

"Hmmm? On a--on a sailboat?"

"Yeah, a boat with sails..." The conversation was awkward and limited to a few words, but his heart couldn't stop fluttering, not when she giggled at his smiley reaction.

"And I was thinking, why not make spaghetti in a kitchen?" It was a fair question and as Henry broke out of his daydream, he found himself pondering it again. He'd never been on a sailboat so he couldn't say if it was a good place or not, but surely, it would rock and dip and sway from the water, not to mention the seasickness. Was it a good idea?

"Y'know, 'cause a kitchen is where most people make spaghetti, right?" He turned to look at the dude he was sitting with, who at this point, had had quite enough of his tall, Jackanory tales.

"I just want to get a manicure..." He told him flatly and then, Henry gave up trying. Well, he tried to be cool and it failed, all he had left was his half-drunken soda and his shades. That was depressing, but he was the host of a house party, it was hard to ever be alone when that happened.

"Henry, Charlotte has good news..." (y/n) suddenly appeared in the doorway, the usual bounce in her step missing since she'd just unclogged the toilet and scrubbed her hands raw at how it made her skin crawl. This was the worst, why do teens think destruction is fun? Anyway, after losing her epidermis, she'd bumped into Charlotte as she tried to find Henry to give him an earful about how she should get paid extra for this shit and the girl was much more excited than she was.

"Henry! We did it!" She cried, clutching a safety deposit box and a wad of cash in her fist so they wouldn't lose a dollar. Now that was a reason to be excited about and (y/n) found her energy growing steadily once more since with that money, the end of this puke fest was in sight. Was it a bit much to call these animals degenerates?

"You made spaghetti on a sailboat?" He really needed to stop obsessing over everything little thing Layla said.

"What? No! Look, three thousand dollars!" Charlotte squealed and spread the bills into a fan so he could see every little number. Holy shit, three grand right in her hand, it seemed impossible for a group of kids and their nagging grownup friend, but they'd done it. Henry's neck was saved and yet more good news was still to come.

"And Piper's in there collecting more money right now! We're raking it in." (y/n) smiled as Charlotte carefully passed the money to Henry, who cradled it like it was his firstborn child. A quick flicker through the notes and a calculation that took every ounce of mathematical ability he had, and he knew that he had the mechanic's money, which the heroine in front of him still thought was ridiculous but at least they'd enjoyed the party. 

"Oh, man! Okay, problem solved!" The boy smiled, looking at them with hopeful eyes. This meant that the party was over, right? A shame but a necessary one because the house, the car, everything had to be perfect for when his parents came back, which was still some time away but the sooner this mess was fixed, the better. 

"Well, unless we have some other unforeseen complication, we should go and pay that charlatan you call a repairman and get this over with." (y/n) replied dryly, still not believing that the kid was actually gonna hand over the money from what had turned out to be a brilliant plan (maybe the burger guy had been smart with his suggestion there). 

It didn't seem right, not when the damage flashed into her brain and the problem's solution screamed out to her. The kid could keep his money and still fool his parents into thinking everything was fine, wasn't that better?

"Right..." Clearly not.

~

The time had come to hand the cash over. Sitting in the armchair by the fire, the "expert" repairman sat back and smirked at the woman watching him with cold eyes as Henry counted every bill they were giving him and the manicurist did his nails. This had been a good night for him, he'd been pampered and was being ten times the normal rate for a restoration. It felt good to be bad...

"Twenty-nine hundred and sixty, twenty-nine hundred and eighty, three thousand! Right there, three thousand dollars!" Henry slammed the last twenty down onto the table next to the guy, relieved that all the counting was over and the debt had been paid. The mechanic could pick it up, look at it, smell if he wanted to, but they'd given him the money, time for him to uphold his side of the deal.

"Yeah! You can count it if you want!"

"I just counted it right in front of him..." Oh, Jasper, he could see but he could never observe. Whatever, as quickly as he could, the man shoved the bundle into his top pocket and patted it happily before leaning back to enjoy his hand massage. Why should he go fast? It's not like he had a lot of work to do.

"You know, you've been sitting in that chair for so long, you're beginning to look like it." (y/n) snapped when a pleased sigh escaped the man, infuriating her, Henry and Jasper at how lax he was in his efforts to help them. Sure, she knew that he didn't have a mammoth task ahead, but this was just taking the piss.

"You just stand there and look pretty, darlin'. I'll do the work when I want to..." He grumbled in return as the girl next to him buffed his nails and chased away all of his worries. Three thousand dollars richer and he hadn't even lifted a finger, something which enraged Henry and fanned the flames of his panic.

"Come on, man, I really need this!" The kid cried, letting his desperation fly out as tears in his eyes and a needy yelp. That made the man wake up and put his hands in the air, startled by the loud tone that shattered his tranquillity. Jeez, couldn't the woman tell them that it wasn't that big of a deal?

"All right! Open my toolbox." He told the boys, making (y/n) scoff when Henry open the tiny red box that housed a series of screwdrivers, mini spanners and a small soldering iron - perfect for delicate operations. It was right next to him, literally ten centimetres away from his hand yet he couldn't be bothered to do it himself. Rather, he simply selected the tool he needed--the tool (y/n) would've gone for if it was up to her---and took the car from Jasper, ready to "earn" his three thousand bucks.

Turning the car upside down, his eyes raked over the circuitry until he saw what the pretty girl had told her friends about. Two loose screws. That was it. Nothing more. That's why (y/n) had been adamant that her skill was sufficient because all that needed fixing was two damn screws. When the electrics short-circuited, they popped out as a safety feature to protect the car from damaging itself; that killed the system and after drying out, it just needed putting back into place. Hardly a job worth what the man had taken.

"Penny in the air..." (y/n) muttered, watching as the screwdriver's head was jammed into the screws and twisted in three full turns, precisely what she'd been trying to do all night. If she had just been able to get her hands on it, things could've been so different and she'd be the one laughing at this clown.

"So, how long are you--"

"Done!" And like that, it was over. The car was perfectly fine again, ready to go for another drive, not that they were gonna even attempt that. Henry and Jasper fell silent as he presented the toy back to them, a smug smirk on his face now that the contract between them was over. They couldn't believe it, they must've misheard him because that took two seconds, just like (y/n) had said...

"You're done?"

"And the penny drops." (y/n) rubbed at her forehead as she saw the light leave Henry's eyes. Just because he didn't want to believe it didn't mean what the guy was saying wasn't true and if he didn't trust him, then all he had to do was test the car for himself. 

"Yeah, push the green button on the remote and move the joystick forward." The repairman instructed Jasper, who nervously did as he was told. Raising the controller, he pushed the accelerator button down and pushed the joystick as commanded and low and behold, the car roared to life. The wheels moved perfectly, the headlights glowed, and the toy was in perfect working order again. 

"Ta-dahhh!"

"It works!" For a moment, the rush of exhilaration and relief blinded the boys from what was important. They forgot about the price tag and focused on the genius man who'd saved their asses because it felt so good to not be in trouble again until Henry clocked onto the wad peeking out from his pocket. Right, he gave him that...wait...

"Oh my god, you're like a geni---wait, you charged me three thousand bucks and then fixed it in five seconds?!" Henry snapped, causing a grin to break out on the man's face. He found the fact that he'd only been caught now hilarious because it was too late and knowing that he'd gotten away with it was hilarious, especially considering that he'd beaten another mechanic to the chase.

"Rubber duck! Face it, kid, you should've trusted your friend here." The man laughed and slowly, Henry's face dropped. With thinking, he turned to look at (y/n), who'd been suspiciously quiet for the last few minutes and he felt his heart crack when she offered him a watery smile. Well, now he just felt like a jerk; all that shit he said about Ray not listening and suffering the consequences had echoed with him, it left him feeling rotten because he'd depended on a stranger when he already had everything he needed with her.

"What? No, no, no, no, no, that's not cool! That's not cool, man! Why are you laughing like that? She's my friend and because of you--" This was becoming a habit, all the finger-pointing. As the man continued to cackle at his furious questions and accusations, across the room, another problem was stewing, only this one was a big one. A really big one.

"Henry! Henry!" Piper shrieked over the music, urgently needing her brother to stop playing around with that moron mechanic and get over to her. She'd just gotten off the phone and what she had been told was bad. Very bad and it would affect everyone in the room if they didn't act quick.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Mom and dad just called." Well, that was normal, at least from (y/n)'s viewpoint. She'd get over the car thing but something didn't feel right. She knew when Piper was panicking and that certainly sounded like her panic voice, even if the newsflash wasn't particularly interesting. Parents liked to call and check up on their kids when they were away, there was nothing to worry about, just one of those things that happened. There was no need to get all worried, no reason at all.

"So?"

"They're on their way here!" That, however, was. That was a big reason to panic. (y/n) meltdown incoming, system shutdown impending because what the fuck? They were coming home? Early? When there was a party in full swing in their house? The one she was meant to be guarding against parties? Oh Jesus, oh Buddha, oh Superman, literally any deity out there, please come help her.

"What? They're coming here?! Oh, god..."

"No, no, no, no, they're in Toronto!" Henry calmed her fears with foolish rationality, kinda like he was sticking his head in the sand and hoping it would all go away if he didn't think about it. They were going on a trip, they hadn't even made it through the first night, and they weren't coming back. She was worried about nothing.

"Nu-uh. When they were changing planes in Chicago, dad went to the men's room and dropped his passport in the toilet!" Typical Jake Hart, clumsy and stupid. Yep, that was their dad.

"Why didn't he reach in and grab it?" Sure, that was gross, but for a passport, it wasn't a big ask, not when they needed to catch another flight, but again, this was a classic Mr Hart moment.

"He tried but it was an auto-flusher!" Oh god, he lost the damn thing and gave his arm and swirlie. They couldn't make this shit up; it was funny and they'd be laughing in any other circumstance but this was now just turning into a farce. 

"Oh my god, is he okay?" (y/n) asked, feeling a bit concerned because the arm that was paying her was now down a toilet fishing for a passport. And of course, she worried for his safety but still, money, money money...

"So, his arm got stuck in the toilet then they had to call the fire department to pull him out!"

"So, mom and dad bailed on the trip?" It didn't take a genius to work out what had happened and Henry's voice was starting to get just as panicky as Piper retold the story. His house was full of strangers and trash and manicurists, they couldn't see this, they'd ground him for life, Piper too. (y/n) wouldn't get paid, Jasper and Charlotte would be permanently banned from his house and his life would be over. And that was all true.

"Yeah! They just called from Nacho Ball and said they'll be home soon!" Soon wasn't good, soon was exactly the opposite of what they needed, but one thing remained. Depending on the Nacho Ball, they might just be able to squeeze out a few extra minutes to think before their impending doom arrived.

"Wait, wait, wait, which Nacho Ball? The close one or the nice one?" Everyone loved the nice Nacho Ball, the service, the food, the restaurant, it was perfect family, fast-food dining, the only catch being that it was quite far away, in a classier part of Swellview. The close one was disgusting, probably only a health inspection away from getting closed down and don't get Henry started on the whiny staff. Plus, it was close by, hence, a real problem if his parents were at that one and not the nice one.

"The close one!" Piper screeched and shot forward to grab his jacket and shake some sense into him. That's what he was dreading. The bad news settled into his bones and froze his core, making chilling waves of fear run through him as he pictured the worst; his parents walking in on this scene. Nope, not on his watch, if they could scrounge three grand in one night, then they could fix this shit in fifteen minutes, that was their only choice. To at least try and hide the evidence.

"Okay, okay, okay, Jasper! Jasper, turn off the music!" Thinking on his feet, Henry gave his first instruction to the friend closest to the speaker system because step one had to be shutting down the party. With all the people gone then it would just be a case of tidying up, so how do you stop a party? Kill the music.

"Okay!" Jasper swiftly took a remote from his pocket that was connected to the PearPad that had been shuffling a cool party playlist, full of modern music that (y/n) wasn't very familiar with, and hit the pause button. The crowd stopped swaying and chattering when the beat reverberating through their bodies stopped and that meant it was quiet enough for Henry to tell them to fuck off. But y'know, more politely than that, just with the same effect.

"Okay! Everyone, please listen up, please! I need everyone to get all their stuff and get out immediately!" Henry yelled at the top of his voice, which would no doubt be red and sore afterwards but whatever, he had a crowd to address. And they weren't happy with the sudden eviction notice; the party had been going so well and so many were still waiting for a manicurist to become free, so they were reluctant to leave. That is, they still hadn't heard the best part.

"Why?" Oliver Pook asked as he sat at a pop-up nail bar, watching as Henry kept jerking his body to try and inspire some energy into everyone. Like the others, he was enjoying himself and it wasn't like he got invited to many parties because big-eating is weird and disgusting, so his butt was firmly wedged into the sofa. 

"Uh, 'cause--" Now, Henry had another problem. This had been the greatest party he'd ever thrown and it would go down as one of the best ever thrown by someone in his school, so he didn't really want to ruin that by saying he was scared of what his mommy and daddy might say. Social suicide was not how he wanted the night to end, but he had to get rid of them somehow, maybe his friends could say something?

"'Cause a snake's got loose! Yeah, a real big one that loves to eat annoying teenagers." (y/n) interjected, coming up with something that would scare people out of the premises whilst simultaneously saving Henry's street cred and giving her something to chuckle about. Yeah, she wouldn't mind seeing some of these brats getting gobbled...do snakes eat burgers?

Immediately, there was a stampede. Upon hearing that a snake was slithering about the place, the partygoers, the manicurists, everyone ran for the exits, rushing to get to safety before they could get bitten or eaten. Small problem though, Jasper, who had been standing guard by the door as a watchman spotted a small flaw within the plan, mainly that something was worrying pulling into the driveway.

"Henry! Your parents just pulled up in the driveway!" He yelled to his best friend, having seen the unmistakable sight of a sorrowful Mr Hart and a furious Mrs Hart, who was not in the mood for taking any shit after what she'd been through. 

"Okay, everyone, go out the back door! The back door!" Change of plan. Henry redirected the stampede to the back of the house, worried that the sight of a herd of teens and nail tech gushing from his front door might just tip off his parents that something was going on in the house. Thankfully, the crowd quickly changed directions, not caring how they got out as long as they did - the snake could strike at any minute.

"Charlotte, go outside and try to stall my parents!" That was step two. Henry needed every second he could get and if Charlotte could get him a few more then that would be great. It wouldn't be a lot but it would be something, perhaps even just enough time to clean the place up a bit.

"Quick! Help me with the furniture!" Step three: get everything in order. (y/n) and Jasper didn't need telling twice, a lot was a stake here, so they all snapped into action as Charlotte faked smiles and kept her grip anchored to Mrs Hart and her feet glued to the driveway. 

They shifted the nail bars out of the way, ready for Jasper to return them to the nail salon downtown when no one was looking.

"Go, go, go, go!" Was the mantra of everyone as they carried the furniture out to the backyard for whichever stylist wanted to pick it up themselves and as they did that, (y/n) got her game face on. With Piper as her apprentice and her years of experience cleaning the Man Cave in record times, she was ready to tackle whatever the house threw at him. 

They plucked trash and nail equipment from the floor where people had just sat down to work before pushing the table back into the kitchen. It had been pushed aside to make more room for their guests, but now they were gone and they only had a few seconds to get everything perfect.

"Come on, come on...flowers!" (y/n) gasped as she, Henry and Piper each carried an orange chair back into place, not forgetting the little pot of tulips that Mrs Hart always had in the centre. There wasn't time to make them look too nice, there was still more to do; the coffee table was wheeled back into position as Jasper helped Henry push the couch back into its normal L-shape. Okay, the house looked good to say there had been forty people in it five minutes ago, and just in the nick of time too.

"Okay, good, good, good. Jasper, now get out!" 

"Right!" It seemed mean to send him away after all of his help and hard work, but Mr Hart had been very specific - no Jasper in the house. So, if the kid was about they might smell a rat or assume the worst and that's not what they were going for.

"Piper, go upstairs and blow your nose!"

"Right!... Wait, why blow my nose?" That instruction made no sense. This was her house too, why couldn't she be sitting on the couch for when her parents' grumpy asses came through the door?

"'Cause, you got something hanging out right here!" Henry replied, gesturing to his nostrils to suggest that Piper, for once, wasn't on fleek. The thought of looking so disgusting made the girl shriek in fear, and in a flash, she was running up the stairs to blow her nose. (y/n) hadn't noticed anything, maybe it was a brotherly trick to make the house seem more natural because Henry and Piper hanging out wasn't something you'd normally see.

"Okay, kid, just sit and act--" (y/n) panted as she plumped the scatter cushions and dragged her old magazine to the couch so it would look like they'd just been chilling all evening. Calm was finally setting in over the house again, well, as much calm as there could be when the final judges were yet to assess if they'd pulled the whole thing off or not, but it didn't last. Not when there was one guest left who didn't get the memo about leaving and never coming back.

"Henry!" It was Layla. She'd returned to save the boy she'd been crushing on all night because, for some reason, he wouldn't leave the house despite the snake problem. Neither did she know why he scream like a child when she yelled his name but she could ignore that, anything if it meant they could run off into the night together.

"Come on, we gotta get outta here!"

"What?! Why? Why, why, why?!"

"I think you left out a why..." (y/n) muttered, barely glancing up from the magazine that she was pretending to read. If Mr and Mrs Hart walked through the door now then they see her just sitting on the couch and reading, definitely with a stomach full of butterflies as she read but failed to absorb any information. If Henry wanted to go, that was up to him, but she was gonna be the diligent housesitter.

"The snakes!" Did he forget about the lie they told?"

"Oh, yeah! Yeah, you know what? You go first, I'll follow you! Save yourself, don't worry about me!" Yeah, he'd definitely forgotten, but he couldn't leave, not even if he wanted to. Nevertheless, he stayed chivalrous to the end, letting Layla think that he was a true gentleman who didn't want her to fall victim whilst waiting for him.

"Okay! See you tomorrow for spaghetti on a sailboat!" She cried as she skipped out of the house, offering his perplexed face one last cheery smile before leaving, her nail case in tow. All those opportunities and Henry never even got to ask what the hell that meant.

"What?! Sailboat?! What is the thing with the sailboat? I don't understand--" He exclaimed as he shuffled over to the couch, following (y/n)'s beckons as she laid the magazine on her lap. They had bigger things to worry about, namely looking like they hadn't just cleaned the house from top to bottom.

"Just sit down and look norm--oh my god, the car!" (y/n) screamed when her eyes lazily dragged over the room and then spotted a flash of silver, still in the same armchair that the mechanic had "worked" on it in. Shit, they had to move it, cars don't drive themselves across the room by themselves.

"Oh my god!" Henry echoed, jumping up like he'd been burned as he saw that the gadget that had caused them so much grief was still a goddamn problem. It was official, he hated that thing, but nonetheless, he sprinted over to scoop it up from the chair and ran back over to the shelves to cautiously place it back into its rightful spot. The remote was returned too, everything in working order, no scratches, no water pouring out from anything, now, everything was fine, just in time.

As Henry jumped over the back of the couch to sit down and act casual, pretending to share an interest in whatever (y/n) was reading and hiding his glasses in the meantime, the door opened to reveal his tired-looking mother with all of her luggage and husband in tow. Showtime.

"We're home!"

"We're back!" The husband and wife announced as they crossed the threshold, relieved to see their home again after such an ordeal, but Henry and (y/n) didn't let on to the fact that they knew about the said ordeal. For them, that was still a surprise and they grinned politely like they were shocked to see them.

"Hey, mom and dad?"

"Mr and Mrs Hart! I--we didn't expect to see you back so early. What happened to Toronto?" (y/n) asked with her best manners, trying to play it well until the very last minute. Seven hours later and she was owed one hundred and forty dollars for keeping the house in one piece (for the most part) and if she sweetened them up, she might just get away with being paid.

"I don't want to talk about it.." Mr Hart said glumly and they both knew what that meant. Knowing that he'd had his arm around a U-bend was hilarious when they heard all of the little clues to what they were alluding to, although they didn't break out a giggle or smile.

"Just don't smell your father's arm." Mrs Hart told Henry, who huffed in amusement at how annoyed his mother seemed to be--pissed, even. A trip to Toronto would have to wait and maybe next time she wouldn't take her dumb husband with her.

"That's a deal."

"I'm gonna go wash my arm." He closed the door and walked upstairs, his suitcase in hand. He didn't even notice the car, this was perfect! The pair found themselves sinking into the couch as they breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the night was coming to a draw and anything that had been broken was now fixed. Everything was good...

"Henry, (y/n)..." Or not. Mrs Hart's voice was surprisingly calm as she called her son and his friend from the couch. It was almost a crime what they had done, the one thing she'd asked them to do and they'd failed. Disgraceful.

"Yeah, mom?"

"Yes, Mrs Hart?"

"Can I see you both in the kitchen?" This sounded ominous. What was the worst that could happen? Maybe she was about to congratulate them for a job well done and hand (y/n) some crisp, green bills for protecting her house from hoodlums whilst she and her husband were flying to Chicago and back. Maybe, hopefully, fingers crossed.

"Hey, what's up?" Henry asked cheerfully once he and (y/n) were face-to-face with her, having gotten up from the couch with a new nervousness settling in the stomaches. She wasn't smiling, she looked...disappointed and (y/n) suddenly felt a little faint like she'd done something wrong and was now facing the music. But for the life of her, she couldn't think of what could be the matter.

"There's a problem," Kris stated with an icy calmness and their hearts dropped. Oh god, they had missed something. A nail polish stain on the carpet, a hidden flaw with the car, a piece of furniture that hadn't been put back in its proper place, what was it?

"A problem?" (y/n) asked with a gulp and it was only when Mrs Hart raised her hand and thrust something into their faces that she remembered something very important.

"With my egg." The fucking egg. They'd forgotten about the egg. In all the chaos, they'd just left it in the fridge where it was safe but that didn't mean that one of the party people or a manicurist couldn't have touched it. They didn't have eyes in the back of their heads, someone could've easily swiped it and done something bad, not that they could see anything wrong.

"W-w-what do you mean?"

"It's cracked. My egg is cracked." Oh, shit. That was definitely a crack now that they looked closely, a very small one, but a crack nonetheless. What had she said? Anything happens to the egg and you won't get paid, did a crack count as anything?

"Well, I mean, you could still eat it and you could, y'know, pay me the one hundred and forty dollars you owe me for being here for seven hours...right?" (y/n) theorised, thinking that it would still taste the same, a small chip meant nothing. That money was important to her, maybe it wasn't the thousand she had expected to earn but still, every cent counted towards the dress, flowers, everything!

"No, (y/n), I can't still eat it and no, I won't be paying you tonight." Mrs Hart replied coldly and handed the now worthless eg to Henry, not even flinching when (y/n) looked at the floor with tears in the corners of her eyes. She didn't want to cry, it wasn't a lot of money, but to say how much they'd done to make the house right again, it felt like a just reward and the blonde woman wasn't being fair. How her soon-to-be husband fancied the mom was beyond (y/n) at that moment; she now had a reason to dislike her.

"I'm way upset with you." Was all she said when she turned back to give them one final glare before sauntering away, her heels and pencil skirt giving her a bit more sway and bitch energy to make them feel extra bad. Was that necessary? They already felt like letdowns, adding salt to their wounds was just cruel, not that Henry cared.

Whilst (y/n) felt gutted, Henry took one look at the egg, one look at the house and one look at her before making his final decision. All things considered, tonight had been a blast; he'd had a great manicure, met a cute girl, thrown a great party, raised and lost three thousand bucks and raced against the clock to work with his friends to trick his parents. His night had been like a goddamn movie, he wasn't sorry at all. "Rubber duck!"

"Stop! You know I hate that!" (y/n) sniffed as he chuckled and let all of his guilt go because his mom would get over the egg, there were millions of them and even his dad's one-of-a-kind car was good, that's what mattered. But for the young woman, it was more than that; that must've been the first time she remembered being fired for one reason or another, fired being the best word she could think of to describe this situation. Not getting paid was getting fired in her books--and a new thing. 

Henry didn't know how to respond, not when she had her lips turned upwards but her eyes looking so damn sad. This was Ray's department, cheering her up with something went wrong but Ray wasn't here and whether it was his fault or not, he was the only one around to make her feel better for losing out. For starters, he should've let her repair the car, he could admit to that, not trusting her was a mistake. 

"Sorry...it's not your fault, you know. The car, the egg, the party, none of it, I should've listened to you." He confessed, looking at his shoes because admitting he was wrong wasn't something Henry did often but when he did, he meant it, especially now. Sure, it had been impossible to predict Ray's sudden appearance at the house, but after everything that had happened, none of it could be pinned on (y/n), who deserved her money more than anything. 

"I know, not your fault either. You didn't know that guy was a dick." (y/n) smiled, knocking the kid slightly by putting her knuckles on his arm and pushing his body away. He was still young, still cocky, it was only expected for him to not listen sometimes and for him to be annoying sometimes, so she wasn't gonna hold a grudge or anything. She could never, not with Henry.

"No...but you did." He murmured, her gaze meeting his sorry one. He'd learn that rick eventually, being able to separate the good guys from the bad was one of those things you sussed out with a little life experience and it had only taken her getting kicked down a few times to realise that not everyone out there was who they said they were.

"Yeah, I learned the hard way what happens if you trust someone blindly. I don't want the same to happen to you." She told him, remembering the time when she'd been naive enough to ignore the warning signs until she found herself loving a monster. Never again, lesson well-learned and she wouldn't let Henry go through something similar. Being used is horrible and seeing something like that happen to a kid as sweet as Henry would be awful. Tonight was just a taste of how mean people could really be.

"I'm glad I've got you, then. You know, I've never really had someone to look out for me like you do, like a big sister thing. It's always been me looking out for Piper and nothing else...I don't why I just said that." Henry whispered. He didn't know why he was letting himself appear so vulnerable for a minute but he couldn't help it. He felt safe with her, she actually listened and cared, she knew what to say even if to her it wasn't even that helpful. He was the eldest, the responsible one in the family, no one ever saw it his way until he met (y/n).

"I've got one of those faces. People like to tell me stuff." (y/n) joked, happy to see that she could still extract a smile from the kid after he felt so glum. But she knew what he meant though, he saw himself as the kind of kid who could face the world and sort it all out with a bit of luck and stupid phrase like "rubber duck", people relied on him as the oldest child, big brother and best friend, Henry Hart and more so as the always happy to help sidekick, Kid Danger. 

"...And I'm always gonna look out for you, Henry Hart. You're like the annoying kid brother who drives me crazy but I wouldn't give up for the world." She added, smiling at how his cheeks flushed from the embarrassment of hearing something so sappy, and he confirmed it by pretending to hate the hug she brought him into, complaining about the way she ruffled his hair. 

He liked it, deep down. Having a big sister was meant to be sweet and icky and annoying sometimes, but always good. She had his back and he drove her up the wall, just as it should be. She gave him a lecture or two and he gagged when she kissed her doofus, that was just how it was. 

No one ever said siblings were perfect. No one ever said they had to be blood either.

[kisskissbanggang]

Jumpspace Renegade - ep. 3 ✨🚀

[2.1k words, 10 min. read - Stray Kids Multi Fic, Scifi!au, Choose Your Own Adventure - SFW/Smut in Later Chapters - Meeting the Gang, Shady Characters, Locked in the Brig, Cybernetically Enhanced Anatomy, Different Levels of Asshole, Always Check the Tags]

[Episodes on Fridays 7pm pst, Polling closes Saturdays 7pm pst]

[Series Masterlist | Come Say Hi!]

It was admittedly difficult to enjoy the liftoff, considering how there were no windows or portholes in the cargo bay of the mercenary ship. 

You'd never been to space. Unlike luckier convicts, you’d served your time right in T’kaarm.

Maybe you should've done something more severe, Klave used to joke, much to your chagrin. Maybe fraud or conspiracy. 

No, you had to experience your first liftoff from the darkness of the cargo hold. The ship shook and rattled on its standing gears while it made its way to the runway. Outside, you could hear the booming voice of the boostway operator over the intercom. 

“Booster Concourse 2, Bay 5, Slipdock Charlie, en route to Victory Meridian, your lane is clear for takeoff in 10…”

“You may want to use that jumpseat on the wall,” Minho cheekily suggested in the dark. You quickly felt around for the fold-down seat and collapsed into it the best you could manage with no boots to magnetize you to the floor. To make matters worse, you were dealing with a rat's nest of a seatbelt.

The roar of the engine cones behind and above the cargo hold roared to life for a moment, before you felt the ship lurch again. Something firmly gripped the standing gears and you could recall now that these were the ‘boosters' of the booster course, the guided track assisting in accelerating ships to cruising speed for jumpspace clearance if so desired.

Your fingers were in your ears while you tried to keep count, which really didn't help the fact that you still hadn't gotten the damn seatbelt harness to work. You’d already counted 10. And if you’d already hit 0, why hadn't you moved–

It appeared you were a second too fast. 

You were pasted to the back corner of the cargo cage in a heap through takeoff. It felt like it lasted for hours, and that awesome power of achieving space flight that you'd never experienced before was a little lost on you, unfortunately. 

When the ship lurched forward in deceleration, Minho was already back up on his feet. He offered one of his cuffed hands to you and you reluctantly took one. Surprisingly, his fingers warm against your own. He sat back down and, by the miniscule help of the work lights, you sat down beside him, if for no other reason than to get off your still aching legs. You held yourself down onto the bench. 

“So I take it you've never been off-world,” Minho casually observed. You kept quiet, just as you’d decided you would. “Pretty exciting,” he continued. “I remember my first big trip. Went about as well as this one is going.”

From his pocket, Minho produced a small utility knife. How the crew let him get away with that, you had no idea, but you could somewhat make out his hands fiddling with it. He was trying to pick open the cuffs. If you'd seen correctly before the lights went off, these were just standard issue, nothing special. You'd actually seen Klave get out of a pair yourself after you’d used them on him, the first time you ever ran. 

Minho didn't shut up for a solid thirty minutes, trying to get you to divulge anything. 

He had no family. 

No partner. 

He was from a small town in a farming colony in the Daedalus system. 

But was any of this even true?

“Are you staying until Victory Meridian?” he asked, finally getting your attention. You briskly shook your head, but suddenly realized he might not have seen–

“You shouldn't,” he confirmed, chuckling condescendingly as you sat up more in attention, clearly puzzled that he saw your response. “Quit acting so surprised. You're lucky the pilot up there only has one enhanced eye. Seems pretty recent too, judging by the patch. I can see everything in here, which actually leads me to my next question. You pawning that ring or are you only transporting it?”

Your hand instinctively flew to where the ring was sitting on a chain between your collarbones. 

“Yeah, dummy,” Minho snickered. “That one.”

He had gotten up maybe 10 minutes before, and had been simply pacing around the cargo cage. Now he stopped in front of you. You scrambled up to your feet but fell back onto your ass with your lack of footing. The small but unmistakable glint of red glow in Minho’s glare held your gaze as he leaned down and into your space. One hand delicately picked up the ring to inspect it more closely. You attempted to lean back as much as you could, even sinking into the wall as much as possible. 

The bauble had only recently fallen into your possession. Your last employer, a miserable little landlord, gave it to you as payment for your last gig before ratting you out. 

“You don't even know what this is, do you,” Minho laughed under his breath, surprisingly soft and gentle for how undeniably intimidating this felt. “This is Clessorian Ore. Think about why that’s weird.”

If you weren’t so on edge, Minho’s impatient frustration would’ve been at least a little funny. His grip on the chain got a little tighter when he drew you closer. 

“Come on, dummy,” he rudely teased, “Clessoria was destroyed a couple hundred years ago by now. Anything, let alone the ore from a mining planet and all the artisans that lived there, is going to bring in huge bucks. And you’re the one who randomly turns up with this? Completely unfair. You don't even know what you’re sitting on and–”

Minho finally shut up, now noticing that you manually overrode the handcuffs while he was distracted. Pinching the sensor on each cuff and the link in the middle was a bit of a stretch, but Minho had made it pretty easy by getting so damn close. The bounty was thoroughly impressed. Stunned into silence, he massaged his free wrists. Maybe he was struggling to thank you, but you somehow doubted that.

But this was important. You had to say your piece, so to speak.

Just as you heard him about to say something, Minho cursed instead when you nonchalantly snapped the cuffs back onto him. You held in a laugh as he was stunned for a second. He finally, frustratedly sat back down on the bench. 

“Fine,” he bristled. “You do know what you're doing. And I'm being a bit of an ass.”

“A bit?” you teased, finally speaking. 

Minho tried not to look surprised. “All the more reason for you not to come to Victory Meridian. It's going to be messy.”

It seemed you’d not only earned some valuable info, but Minho’s silence as well, as the man remained quiet for you for another stretch of time. You considered all of this, the foreboding that Minho was assuring you was on the way, the supposed value of the ring you'd been casually wearing as a necklace. As a precautionary measure, you slipped the chain off and into your bag, but instantly bobbed off the bench more than before. How dense was this little ring?

Really, you almost lulled yourself to sleep, could've gotten some rest if the lights in the hold didn't snap on. 

It took a second for your eyes to readjust. Outside the cargo hold was the blonde from earlier, Hyunjin, accompanied by another young man watching while he fiddled with the lock. 

“Dammit,” Hyunjin muttered, “I can never get this thing. Jeongin, you do it.”

His companion’s fox-like features softened into an amused chuckle while he easily punched in the combo. 

Curious, that you didn't recall Chan having to input a combo. Maybe he had a key you didn't see?

The duo were waiting expectantly for you. “Well?” Jeongin asked. 

“What,” you warily countered. “Done already? Thought I had a lot of entries.”

“Right,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “but you didn't tell us you're boring. Who hasn’t done some light robbery or stolen a couple vehicles? I did like the thing you did with the art dealer, though.”

“Thanks?” you responded, unconfident. “So what now?”

“We said you'd be out before the end of the day cycle, didn't we?” Hyunjin sighed. He did, however, pull on a warmer smile when you finally stepped out of the cargo cage, your socked toes brushing the ground. The boys each took a second to take turns amusedly bobbing you up and down a couple times before leading you to the stairs. You turned back, sharing a parting glance with Minho before the lights went back out. 

The relative cool of the cargo bay immediately melted into a comfortable warmth as you ascended the stairs. You emerged into a decent galley, with a table in the modest lounge area and a kitchen just beyond another doorway. A spiral staircase led further up, to where you were apparently heading. It shouldn't have been surprising that the ship was far bigger and nicer than it looked from the outside. 

Your gasp immediately made you self-conscious. As it turned out, this path led you to the bridge, and outside the large windows arcing around the room was just...

Space. 

Always being surrounded by crowd, always being subjected to stimulus, the sensation of seeing space up close was jarring, to say the least. 

“Hi,” came a gentle greeting over your shoulder. You jumped, scaring both you, and Jisung who was apparently the culprit.

“Hi!” he tried again with a laugh, more confident now. “I was trying to let you have a second. You’re going by Nova, right? Cool. So… This is the Ambler. She’s not much, but she’s home–”

“You son of a bitch!” a voice jovially roared in the back of the room. A man climbed down a ladder from the ceiling. “She’s not much, dipshit says. Shows how much you care about all the work I've put into her.”

“This is Changbin,” Jisung introduced, only partly mortified by the exchange. “He does, actually, keep everything running around here, including the speedsters in the garage.”

Jisung motioned towards the small office occupying an alcove in the back of the room. “This is where you'll usually find Hyunjin, and Seungmin, our nav specialist–”

“What?” called a voice from the office. The same man with the glasses from earlier popped into the arched doorway of the alcove. 

Jisung vaguely gestured towards you. “I'm, er – I was just showing Nova around–”

“Oh,” Seungmin grinned, finally noticing you. “Hi!”

Before you got a chance to return the greeting, he turned right back to his work. 

“He’s, uhm,” Jisung laughed helplessly, “he’s always busy. And, hmm, what else. Oh! I usually live up here.” The pilot proudly showed off his chair at his console. “We’re not all bad, I suppose,” Jisung humbly shrugged while he counted off his fingers. “I guess Hyunjin already ran off again. His bunk is actually down in the hold where you just were. He’s sort of our appraiser, he knows how much everything’s worth. Literally everything. It’s nuts. Jeongin is kind of our cabin boy, we just sorta picked him up one day. Chan is captain, obviously, and he’s off doing… Something. And Felix? Where’s Felix?”

“Felix,” Changbin piped up again, lowering himself from where he was still tinkering in the ceiling, “is in the workshop. He was clearing out the spare bunk for Nova.”

“For real? You're doing that after all?” Jisung laughed. “Chan’s gonna kill you. You know he wants to dump her at Sentury Station – oh! That reminds me.” 

The pilot ducked down, rummaging under his console. You thought about what he just said for a moment. Sentury Station? That was only halfway to Daedalus. But if it was supposed to get messy in Victory Meridian, a port you weren't even sure you wanted to head for to begin with…

Jisung came up with a pair of boots, expectantly holding them out for you after fussing with his eyepatch. 

Your heart pathetically skipped a beat. 

But apparently so did Jisung’s. 

“Er, it was Chan’s idea, after I mentioned the state of your current shoes,” he babbled, cheeks tinted red and everything. “And Hyunjin thought these would fit you.” 

You immediately knelt down and pulled the boots on, marveling at not only Hyunjin’s correct guess, but how naturally these held you to the ground. Changbin startled you somewhat when he approached, handing Jisung a flashlight he'd apparently borrowed. 

“Crazy,” Changbin shook his head. “Can’t believe Chan wants to abandon her at Sentury. Felix is right, we should take her as far away from wherever she's running.”

“Thank you,” you gratefully acknowledged. “And Felix is right, it’d be appreciated.”

“Thought so,” Changbin beamed. “Wanna meet him? Our bunks are that way and I can show you yours–”

“Well, I was just about to offer a tour,” Jisung butted in, falsely apologetic. “There’s some amazing views,” he offered. 

You considered these proposals, both the tour and the direct escort to your bunk sounding alluring, but also realized a third. Hyunjin was the appraiser, wasn’t he? You could head back down and really see how much your ring was worth.

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Cold as Ice - Chapter 49 - Part 2

*Warning - Adult Content*

Wren Ridley

The next few days went by in a fog.

I went to my classes but I didn't learn anything in them.

I started going on my runs in the evening while Landon was likely at practice so we wouldn't run into each other again.

He didn't want to see me and I couldn't fault him for that.

This was different than the last time we were separated.

This time was completely my fault because I was too much of a coward to divulge my true feelings and tell Landon I loved him when he was laying everything out in front of me.

He was the one being vulnerable and I shut him down.

Even having been through this once before, it didn't prepare me to face these feelings again.

I felt lost, like no matter what direction I went in, it was the wrong one.

I was stuck and hurt, my feelings caging me and preventing me from making any forward progress in my life.

The bright side was that James had been spending a lot of time at Anthony's so I didn't have to deal with him trying to pry into my business.

Later on in the week, I sat down at the coffee shop with my laptop, reworking some things in my novel.

It was a risk being here considering Landon could walk in at any moment but I couldn't help but be a little selfish and hope that he would, that he would walk in and we would lock eyes and somehow I would be able to tell him everything I needed to say and he would forgive me and things would go back to normal but that was unrealistic.

It would never be that easy.

The truth of it was that if Landon really did walk in here, the two of us would avoid each other.

I closed the tab of my manuscript and started working on something else.

Maybe if I could get everything I wanted to say to Landon typed out, it would be easier to say to him.

I could read it over, perfect it and be able to say the words to his face.

Dear Landon, I...

"So, how is single life treating you?" Anthony asked, standing in front of where I was sitting.

He had a smug look on his face. I backspaced what I had written as I looked up at him.

"Spending too much time with James?" I asked.

"He didn't tell me, Landon did," Anthony replied, sitting down across from me.

It shouldn't have surprised me that Landon had spoken to Anthony.

The two of them had formed some kind of friendship.

I just hadn't realized how close of a friendship.

"I have no idea what you did this time but I'm team Landon," Anthony told me with a sardonic smile, his tone almost mocking.

"And I thought we were friends," I sarcastically replied.

Anthony shrugged.

"So, what did you do?"

I wanted to come up with some smart response to make Anthony angry and forget about the conversation we were having but I didn't have it in me.

I was tired.

"Shouldn't you be working?" I asked him, shutting my laptop.

"I just clocked out," he said.

"You've been here for hours, Wren."

I hadn't even noticed the time passing by.

I missed one of my classes but I couldn't find it in me to care.

"Well, then I must get going," I said, signaling I wanted this conversation to end.

I packed up my things and stood up from my seat.

Anthony was still sitting in the seat across from me, the seat Landon usually occupied.

"Wren, if you have the ability to make things right, then just do it," Anthony said, stopping me before I could walk away.

"Stop running away and being all stoic and mysterious. I'm sure it's exhausting for both of you."

With that, I left the coffee shop and went straight back to my dorm.

Luckily, James was gone, clearly not with Anthony but I didn't care enough to find out where he actually was.

My desk was a mess, so I got into bed with a notebook and pen and started writing what I had started earlier.

Writing by hand could be helpful.

I couldn't just delete my progress, I would have to be faced with all of it.

Writing like this was more personal, it dug deeper into the heart.

Dear Landon, I wish my mouth could speak these words because you deserve to hear them but for now, I must write them down. This way, I cannot hide what I want to say.

I kept writing until I filled up the page.

********

I woke up later on to James and Stella standing over me at the side of my bed.

I rubbed my eyes and got a clearer look at the two of them.

They were wearing matching serious expressions, both staring at me with their hands on their hips.

"What is wrong with you two?" I asked in a groggy voice, sitting up and stretching my arms above my head.

"What's wrong with you?" Stella asked.

"You're sleeping in the middle of the day, your side of the room is messier than James', you're in a bad mood, something is up."

"Great investigative work there, Stella," I said, to which she narrowed her eyes.

Stella leaned forward and flicked my forehead.

"Ow."

"Don't be an ass," she said.

"Especially when we're just worrying about you. You know, like friends do."

"There's no need."

"That's bullshit," James interjected.

"Obviously you're fighting with Landon again. Otherwise, you wouldn't be like this."

"You already have it figured out, so what is the point of all this?" I asked, gesturing to the two of them.

"The point is..." Stella started.

"You're sad and as your friends we want to be there for you."

"Yes, I'm sad," I admitted.

"But it's not the end of the world nor is it your problem."

"Wren," Stella said, drawing my name out as she hopped up to sit on the edge of my bed.

"Of course, it's our problem. You're our friend."

"Though, you don't make it easy," James added with a grin.

"You're kinda stuck with us."

I didn't even have it in me to be annoyed at that.

James was right, I was stuck with them whether I wanted to be or not.

"Are you going to tell us what happened?" Stella asked.

"Jess didn't tell you?" I replied.

The two of them were joined at the hip and I was sure Landon had told her.

She was who he was closest to other than me or his sister.

Stella shook her head.

"She just said that you two broke up. She didn't go into details."

"I think Anthony is in on it too," James said, dragging over my desk chair and sitting down.

"I tried asking him about it but he... distracted me."

"We don't need to hear any details," I quickly replied.

James was the type to go into way too much detail unprovoked.

James and Stella both looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to tell them what they were both eager to hear.

It didn't matter if they knew or not.

Nothing would change.

Landon would still love me but wish he didn't.

He would still try to hate me no matter who knew.

"Landon broke up with me," I told them.

They were staring at me intently, waiting for me to continue.

"Well, yeah, we gathered that much," Stella replied.

"What happened?"

"He told me he loves me," I said plainly, like saying the words out loud didn't affect me.

Only they did.

It felt like part of me was being ripped out to say them out loud.

"I'm not seeing the issue," James said after a few moments.

"So, he loves you, no idea why but isn't that a good thing?"

"I didn't say it back," I muttered.

I couldn't look at either of them.

"I couldn't."

It was embarrassing to admit.

They both waited for me to go on.

"He said it when he was drunk and I just freaked out," I continued.

"I was avoiding him, avoiding talking about it and then he confronted me. I told him love wasn't for me and he left."

"But you do love him," Stella pointed out.

"Well..." I started.

"Don't even try to deny it, Wren," she said, putting her hand up to stop me.

"I know you like to lie but that's just not believable."

"I think," James cut in, pointing his finger at me.

"There's a really simple solution to this."

"Oh my God, here we go," Stella muttered.

"Go tell Landon you love him," James finished.

"Oh, that's actually a good idea," Stella responded with a smile.

"I like that idea."

I shook my head.

"I can't."

"Why the hell not?" James asked.

I couldn't tell them that I was still too much of a coward to say it, that love still freaked me out and it was still hard for me to accept that someone loved me and that I loved them.

It would sound so stupid out loud. It barely made any sense in my head.

I wanted so badly to just be able to get out of my own head, to stop being the way that I was.

I always blocked out my emotions, thinking that was the way I wanted to live but now I couldn't even talk about my feelings out loud.

I couldn't talk about them with my friends, my family, with Landon.

Stella seemed to notice my moment of distress and put her hand over mine.

I had been gripping my blanket tightly like it would provide me with some sense of relief.

She gave me a look of understanding, rubbing her thumb over the top of my hand.

"Let's go," Stella said after a moment, getting up from my bed.

James and I looked at each other, confused.

"Go where?" James asked.

"Um, to dinner?" she said, looking at us like we were idiots.

"It's like six o'clock and none of us have eaten."

"We're just dropping this conversation?" James asked, standing from my desk chair.

"Yes, let's go," Stella said, tugging on my hand to get me out of bed.

I went with them to dinner and we didn't talk about my failed relationship or my tendency to lie, which honestly made me feel better.

My appetite was smaller and I still felt like a part of me was missing but I could pretend for an hour that everything was normal.

I could pretend, just for that moment, there wasn't still an ache in my chest reminding me of what I'd lost.