#catch me vibrating over this interaction an hour later

[kamitv]

Thinking about Toji who…

Is so big in comparison to you.

He’s simply that— big. His shoulders are so broad that when he’s standing behind you, his shadow almost always casts over you. Even if you’re not exactly small yourself, this man is just fucking huge and beefy.

You’d tease him about it too and “joke” about wondering what it’s like to be put in a chokehold by him. He’d probably put you in one too if you asked nicely.

Isn’t completely broke but damn sure isn’t rich either.

He makes enough money to please you. Although his gambling is a bit of a problem, Toji tries to distract you from it by flattering you with occasional gifts that he bought using his wins.

Toji makes do with the money he has. If he’s not gambling it away, it’s 100% going to you to keep that pretty lil’ smile on your face. He’s happy you weren’t hell bent on marrying a rich man and that you accept him for who he is financially.

Has a breeding kink.

For someone who didn’t do much for his children, he was very determined to fuck you full of his cum after seeing how you sweet-talked some little girl on the street. Something about such a small interaction drove him crazy later that night.

Your legs would he dangling over his big shoulders, body folded exactly how he wants you, pussy sopping with every harsh thrust of his hips as he buried his thick cock inside you over and over again— listening to the way you babble his name and watching how your jaw hangs open, eyes rolled back with drool dripping down your chin.

Fuck, you’re a complete mess but he loves it. Especially with the way your cunt spasms around his dick every time he starts talking to you. Toji would have his face hovered right over yours so every breath is shared and the sex is beyond intimate.

Saying things like, “Gonna let me stuff this pretty pussy full of me, huh?” “Yeah? Y’like the sound of that, baby?” “Want me t’make you a mommy? Hm?”

To which you’d just nod along, not against the idea in the slightest but too fucked out to truly respond. Toji would groan at your agreement, heavy balls slapping against your skin whilst his cock splits you open. Huffing an almost desperate, “Uhuh… You’ll look s’pretty walkin’ around with my kid, ma’.”

Is infatuated with your ass.

Toji almost feels as though he shouldn’t go twenty-four hours without feeling your ass at least once. The way the fat fits and molds into his palm perfectly, how soft you are, and the way it’s every movement captivates his attention like a baby with a sensory video is quite amusing.

Even if you didn’t think you had the fattest ass in the world, Toji believes otherwise. He doesn’t care if you nearly fall over every time he slaps your ass as he walks by, hearing the loud smack that follows and the squeal of surprise that leaves your lips makes him happy.

One time, he found you lying on your stomach and saw that as the perfect opportunity to lay his head against your ass, the rest of his body weight rested against your legs and leaving you immobile.

It never really matters what you’re wearing either, he knows what’s under all those clothes so he’ll compliment you on how your ass looks in anything. Though, he will admit that seeing your ass in a tight dress makes his cock spring up.

Would never admit it but is often needy for you.

If you ever call him such a thing, he’ll curse you out while fucking you dumb— claiming to show you just how “needy” he is for you.

He hates when you catch faint pitches in his groans or moans, especially while you’re kissing him. His neck is so damn sensitive, more-so right under his jawline, so whenever your lips and tongue swipe against that area, his throat would vibrate with a deep groan. And fuck if you’re sitting on top of him, steadily rocking your hips against him, you may catch him slipping and he might just whine-

Not that he’ll ever admit he did or does.

Hates when you ignore him.

And you know he hates it too so that’s exactly why you do it.

After any argument, you just go quiet and start giving him those annoying little mhm’s or uhuh’s, clearly not paying attention to a word he’s saying.

Sometimes you ignore him on accident though, not that it changes how much he hates it. It’s usually when you’re working on something or trying to focus and he’ll come talking to you only to receive silence in response as everything he’d just said goes through one ear and out the other.

Typically, he fixes this problem by getting really close to you and talking right against your ear, forcing you to hear every word he’s saying and smiling at the way you find his lips ticklish against your skin.

Forgets important dates sometimes.

He once forgot your anniversary with him and you put him on sex ban for a month. To you, it should’ve been longer but Toji tried his best to make up for his forgetfulness during that month.

Forgot Megumi’s birthday but was happy to have you there to remind him. Again, you scolded him and he promised to work on it.

Doesn’t bother getting jealous.

The fuck is he getting jealous for? You’re his woman. Any man that looks at you doesn’t disturb Toji’s peace, he knows you’ll never leave him (he tells you that you’d be dumb to do so).

If he ever caught someone flirting with you, he’d casually walk up to you and shower you in lewd kisses and touches just to scare the person off. Toji will walk up mid-conversation and grab a firm hold of your jaw, tugging you toward him just to press his lips against yours. After which, he’s dragging his kisses down to your neck, moving a hand to your waist and the other to your ass, silently telling others to fuck off through his touches alone.

Would kill for you.

This should be obvious too. Taking some’s life for you is no different than his job— even though you don’t know much about it…

He may not tell you he’d murder someone for you but if you seemed distressed enough by someone’s presence, Toji will have them dealt with. You’d later ask “Hey, what happened to…” Only to hear that they got into some “strange accident”. But in reality, your lover had disposed of them.

Cherishes you in his own way.

He doesn’t say anything too sappy to you but he does have his ways of showing his love for you.

Toji has a tendency to stare at you, admiring your features and wondering how or why the hell you still put up with him. You’re so perfect in his eyes that sometimes he thinks you deserve someone better and less forgetful or violent.

And yet, every time he comes home— you’re there with that sexy smile of yours and gentle voice that drives him crazy.

Pet names with Toji slip off of his tongue naturally. “You look s’pretty today, doll.” “Love you too, pretty girl.” “I like your hair like that, ma. Looks nice.” “C’mon, don’t be mad at me baby, I can buy you more snacks…”

Loves fucking you from behind.

He’s always bending you over some surface or pressing you against some wall. While, yes, he loves that pretty face of yours, he also loves pressin’ it against the bed as his drills his fat cock inside you.

Toji likes watching the way your ass bounces back against him. He loves looking at the arch in your back, watching your nails scratch and scrape at the sheets, and staring at the way your pussy messily spreads around his cock— such a pretty white ring of cum forming at his base.

He’ll get the whole scene even messier too, spitting down where you’re connected, making his cock slip in and out of you faster so he can fuck deeper. Oh how he loves smacking your ass til’ it’s left with marks, gripping onto your cheeks and just toying with you while he fucks you to tears and incoherent cries.

Then he’s teasing you, “C’mon, throw that ass back on me, girl.” “There ya goo, such a good slut f’me, aren’tcha?” “Uhuh, take my cock baby, jus’ like that.” “Look back at me, lemme see those tears, doll.” “Mhm, feels s’good, huh?” “Oh fuuuck, don’t stop. Keep… Keep movin’ those fuckin’ hips baby, doin’ so good f’me.”

Doesn’t mind listening to you ramble.

You’re a talker, that’s for damn sure. In the beginning of the relationship, he thought he’d grow to hate how much you talk but he actually loves it.

When you talk about your day or any drama that’s happened, he’s happily sitting there listening to every word. Hell, sometimes Toji even makes sassy comments, “Girl, you need better friends.” “You told her off? Type shit.”

And if you pay attention close enough, you may notice how he’s picked up on things you say and started saying them himself. Whatever phrases you often use, you’d catch him using from time to time & you think it’s just the cutest thing in the world.

Would lose his mind if you ever called him Daddy.

You did it one time as a joke and you nearly got pregnant the same night.

A/N: Not proofread— apologies for errors. This is for those that requested! Lastly, UHM HELLO THANK Y’ALL FOR 3K FOLLOWERS HERE? ^.^ y’all are so sweet I’m gonna eat you guys.

[bensolosbluesaber]

Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending

A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.

EDIT: Part 2

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A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger.  For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.

He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.

You shot out another web. It caught a window, and you took a sharp corner then another trying to lose the hunter.

Seventy seconds until you could safely open another portal. Well safe was a relative measure. Ideally you would allow a full day between jumps, but if you only had twelve hours, well then odds of survival rose to about fifty-fifty. Anything less than twelve hours and implosion was basically guaranteed.

Sixty-eight. You extended your legs for more momentum, rolled in the air, shot out two webs and used them to zip forward. Sixty-two. 2099 was fast, faster than you. You didn’t dare to look back to see if he was still in pursuit.

He protected the multiverse, kept it from collapsing in on itself, and you put the entire web of connection at risk just by being alive outside of your universe. You didn’t begrudge 2099 for what he thought he had to do. Maybe it was true that your presence could cause a universe to collapse, but you were careful not to stay for too long, not to interact with the Spider of that universe, not to fight any super-villains. If he could just understand that you were careful, that you didn’t want a multiversal collapse anymore than he did, maybe he would be reasonable.

Then again, maybe not. He was relentless, and from what little you had heard of Spider-Man 2099, he wasn’t one for talk and negotiation.

Fifty-five. You dived down, shot another web, swung again. You could never go back to your world’s boundless emptiness and not another living soul. That thought kept your exhausted muscles working. Fifty. The void was all that remained of your collapsed universe, a void in which you could not die but where no one else could live.

Forty-eight. Forty seven. This block was all future, half-built apartment buildings.

Thirty. You’d long ago lost your suit. All that remained was the mask that obscured your face. You must look ridiculous swinging around in stolen street-clothes: a baggy sweatshirt, leggings, dirty sneakers.

Twenty-one. Nearly there. Just a few-

A solid mass of muscle stole the breath from your lungs and flattened you into a cement wall. Claws shattered the cement beside your head into a fine gray powder. A hand closed around your throat, and you were crushed between the blue and red clad Spider-Man and the wall.

He was pure muscle. This was the closest you’d ever been to 2099, and his sheer size was terrifying. The red lines on his mask narrowed with his eyes as he studied you.

Eighteen. You pushed at his broad chest, struggling desperately to fight him off, but he was enhanced too and probably well-fed and rested - two things you were not.

“Stop fighting me,” 2099 growled into your ear, his voice a deep rumble that you felt in his chest.

“I won’t go back.” You choked out the words while you planted a knee against him and tried to kick him away. Your efforts were utterly useless. Quite literally, you could feel muscles rippling across his chest and arms as he held you against the wall while you trid to wriggle free.

In the corner of your eye, you watched the red numbers tick down. Six. Five. Was it even possible? It had to be.

2099 brought you forward then slammed you into the wall again. The impact made your head spin. The red lines of his mask doubled and tripled. He was trying to get something around your wrist.

“Hold still!”

Two.

With the last vestige of strength left in your body, you brought a hand to his face and shot a wad of webbing at his eyes. He growled and stopped his attempt to hand-cuff you - or whatever he was doing - to wipe the webbing away. For a second he was distracted. You imagined the glowing golden portal. Closed your eyes. Energy sparked in your body, coursed through your veins and arm. You shot a web at the wall behind you. It shimmered gold, dim gold, but still gold.

There was a moment where you thought it hadn't worked. Then the wall crumbled away and you felt wind whip you backward as a bright gold light filled the space. 2099 reached for you, claws extended. Four knife-like talons dug into your shoulder, ripping through the ratty sweater, digging into your skin, and tearing four long bloody stripes into your flesh as the portal drug you away..

You planted both feet on his stomach and kicked him off. A bright red web shot out from 2099’s hand to tangle in a tree. The last thing you saw was 2099 falling then catching himself before you tumbled away from him and toward a new universe.

--

It was raining on this new Earth. Actually, ‘raining’ was a bit of an understatement. It was absolutely pouring, and you were soaked before you hit the ground. Hard.

You hadn't been as focused as you needed to be, and the portal had opened in the sky and dropped you ten feet to the roof of a towering building in some universe’s version of New York. You couldn’t tear the mask from your face quick enough as you gasped desperately for air. 2099 was strong, and he’d smashed you half a foot into solid cement.

Your ribs ached. So did your head for that matter. But it was the dull ache spreading across your shoulder, down your arm, and seeping through your muscles like liquid fire that really made you afraid.

The gray of your stolen sweater was soaked in crimson blood. Carefully, you pushed the stained fabric over your shoulder.

Shit. Shit!

Beneath the torn fabric, your skin glowed a sickly, dare you say radioactive red - the same red as 2099’s suit. His talons must have been poisoned, and now that poison was making it’s way through your body, causing unknown damage and immense pain. There had to be a lab on this Earth. Right? If you could only get there, you were smart enough to whip up an antidote.

But as you stood, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. The poison was potent and fast-acting. Insanely, you wondered if it was really poison or if you should be calling it venom. It didn’t matter, because a moment after gaining your feet, your legs failed. You careened forward and nearly smashed your head again, only just catching yourself before slowly laying down in the rainwater.

City lights sparkled in the distance and reflected in the puddle forming around your head. Purple and blues and few bright yellows. Not a bad view if this was how you died. If only the poison weren’t so painful. You wanted to scream, but you lacked the strength.

A familiar tingle shot across your spine a second before the bright gold light of a portal obscured the reflection of the city lights. No! He was so close when you jumped universe’s. He must have tracked you; no wonder he hadn't bothered to chase you through the portal.

You scrambled backwards weakly, your feet struggling for purchase on the slick roof as the broad shouldered man appeared. He was wreathed in gold light. You couldn’t jump again, couldn’t even stand, could barely drag your body through the rain as Spider-Man 2099 strode closer.

“Nowhere to run,” he said. His voice was flat, like he took no pleasure in finally having you trapped.

“I won’t go back!” You tried to sound tough, strong, but your voice cracked over the words. “There’s nothing there. I can’t. I’d rather die than- than go back to nothing. 2099, don’t send me back”

Your fingers felt the ledge of the building and empty air beyond it. Poison. Fall. The clawed Spider-Man. A slow descent into madness trapped in the empty and endless remains of your home universe. A fall seemed fastest. But you didn’t want to. You were scared. You didn’t really want to die. Your shoulder throbbed and head filled with fog. The skin was glowing such a bright red you could see it in the corner of your eye.

In the brief moment you hesitated, he was on you. 2099’s red webs wrapped around your chest, and he yanked you forward and away from the ledge. You crumpled at his feet, and he just stared down at you through that mask. His blue and red mask swam in your vision as you stared up at him. Was it the rain that was so cold? Or was it the poison? No, venom. Poison? Venom?

2099’s face got bigger as he knelt beside you.

“What is this?” He pulled at the torn sweater, his gaze falling on the bright red mottling your skin.

Miguel O’Hara had never seen his claws damage anyone like this. There was no venom in them… unless in whatever universe you had come from something about them was venomous. It was possible. His fangs were venomous, that he did know.

Miguel pulled off his mask, the adrenaline of the chase fading while he watched you struggle for life. He’d meant to stop you, take you back to base, figure out where you’d come from… not kill you. He ran his tongue over one of the fangs protruding from his mouth.

The next thing you knew, 2099 was sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap. It might have all been a dream, you couldn’t tell. The lights were so beautiful. Your head lolled to one side, your whole body limp as a ragdoll in his muscular arms. His face filled your vision and blocked out the pretty lights.

He had a strong jawline, dark curls, sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and were those fangs? And were his eyes glowing red? Yes, two orbs as red as the suit and your poisoned skin shone down at you. He was pretty too. This had to be a dream. The monster chasing you couldn’t be so handsome. You blinked, eyes unfocused. Your Spidey-sense was going wild, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. 2099 was warm, and you could go to sleep right here.

He shifted your body again so your side was pressed against his chest. “2099,” you whispered weakly, pathetically.

“I’m sorry for this,” he whispered in that low growl. Now it was tinged with what almost sounded like real regret. “It’s the best I can think of.”

He guided your head to rest in the curve of his shoulder, face turned toward his neck. One hand brushed hair away from your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. His fingers were no longer clawed, and his movements were gentle as he held you close, muscles tensing underneath your body. The expression on his face was tender. It seemed impossible that this was the same man who had made you his prey for months.

“Don’t panic now,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to your neck. “Stay still.”

You were barely aware of what was happening. His lips were warm, then four sharp pricks stung the base of your neck just above your collarbone and the deep poisoned wounds. Panic tried to rise in your throat, but you weren’t conscious enough to really process that a man currently had his fangs sunk into your throat. He drew back and spit out bright red poison, then bit into you again. Then again. And again.

Miguel was exceptionally careful with you, holding you perfectly still and being sure to sink his fangs into the same spot each time so as not to mark your skin any more than necessary.

Slowly, the world began coming back into focus. You were exhausted, but the poison was being was successfully being leeched from your system by his fangs. Brown curls were the first thing you became aware of, then the almost unnatural warmth coming from the man beneath you, then the cold pricks on rain on your back, then... then that something was biting you. Before you could wrench your head back, a large hand cradled the back of your head. You desperately tried to struggle as you realized what this vampiric Spider-Man was doing to you. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held your head still.

2099 pulled his fangs from your neck, spit bright red then let go of your head. You sat up quickly. The movement made you dizzy.

“I know you’re scared.” Miguel could see the fear in your eyes. He nodded to your still glowing shoulder. It was dimmer now and hurt less, but it was still obvious poisoned. “But this is working. Let me help you.”

You were looking him right in the eyes, the glowing red eyes, and though you didn’t trust him, you knew instinctively he was right.

“Okay,” you breathed lowly.

You laid your head on his shoulder. Miguel could feel how your whole body trembled, but whether it was from fear or cold or something else entirely he couldn’t tell. When his lips touched your skin you whimpered. That was fear.

Miguel still had one arm around you, but he took your hand in his free one, interlaced your fingers, and squeezed once. Then he sunk his fangs into your neck. It stung a bit but didn’t really hurt. Now that your were conscious, you could feel the poison being drawn toward the spot where his mouth connected to your skin. That didn’t really hurt either. It was like stretching a sore muscle - a satisfying pain that ultimately brought relief.

2099 drew back to spit out his poison. When was the last time you’d touched someone like this? A touch that was more than an accidental brush in the street - or a purposeful one so you could steal someone’s wallet. 2099 was your enemy, your hunter. He was dangerous. But he was saving your life and holding you so tenderly it made your chest ache.

“Once more,” he promised.

His fangs brushed over your skin for the last time. You pulled your hand from his and splayed your fingers across his chest. 2099 brought his now free hand to your poisoned shoulder and pushed the ripped fabric apart.

Miguel watched the last of the poison be pulled from your veins as it filled his mouth. He spit it out then turned back to study how your body was pressed against him.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. Then panic hit and you jerked back, still sitting on his lap but with your face now safely away from his fangs. “You- you’re going to send me back. 2099, please don’t.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Miguel.”

Miguel. 2099 had a name. Of course he did, but hearing it made him seem so human. And his face was handsome. That was no venom or poison induced hallucination. The man was beautiful.

“And no. Not yet.”

“My universe collapsed. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

His red eyes softened as they met yours.

“We won’t send you back to an empty universe,” he paused, and one side of his lips twitched up. “You ran because you thought I’d send you back to a void? I see I have quite the reputation.”

Miguel lifted you to your feet easily. He set you on your feet and tapped the watch-like contraption on his wrist. You leaned against his muscled chest for stability. Even without his poison, you were still wounded and tired and malnourished. A portal spiraled out in front of you both.

“You promise not to send me back there?” You looked up at Miguel. He squinted at the portal’s bright light and tugged the mask back over his face.

“Promise.”

To be continued... 

Part 2

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A/N: Part 2 will be a little time jump, and we’ll actually see Miguel and reader get into a relationship!

My Masterlist

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Taglist (Want to be added? Click here.) - 

@copingchaos @n1ght5h4d3-24 @paintmekala @chaoticevilbakugo @janebby @chaoticevilbakugo @weirdo125 @roseqzpd @bitchyglitterfox @m0nster-fvcker @romanarose

Won’t Tag: @janebby @marvelescvpe

If you want taken off, just let me know! I took a guess on who might be interested.

[inkykeiji]

character: jouno saigiku x fem!reader genre: smut warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, face fucking, boot humping, a lil degradation mixed with a hint of praise, dacryphilia, size kink/size difference, lots of cum words: 3.7k

He knows you’re up, the moment he steps through the flat’s threshold. 

He can hear your gentle breathing, can hear the soft rustle of lace and satin against your skin as your chest rises and falls, can hear your sock-clad toes, overlapped and wiggling, weight shifting slightly from one foot, then the other, as you wait in anticipation. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” he asks aloud, not bothering to turn toward your hiding spot, attention focused on his hands as he slowly pulls a white glove from his fingers, one by one. “What are you doing up?”

“Missed you,” you mumble out through a pout, cheek pressed into the doorframe, face half hidden. 

“Yeah?” he’s asking as he tosses the first glove onto the counter and begins work on the second, his features contrasted by shadows, but you can still see the smirk on his face. “Why don’t you come give me a hug, then?” 

A sweet little squeal of affirmation sounds in your throat and then you’re off, bare feet pitter-pattering against the polished hardwood, body barreling into his chest only a second or two later, hard enough to knock a gentle chuckle from his lips, his arms catching you easily.

A deep sigh deflates his chest, his body melding into yours. His head droops, lips pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before he rests his forehead against your skull. A thick thigh slots itself between your own, your limbs twining together; a tangle, a knot of a single entity. 

With a slow, steady, purposeful inhale, his ribs stretch against yours as he fills his lungs with your scent, breathes you in and gulps you down and holds you close to his heart, steeping his tissues in your essence, infusing his blood with you.

A beat or two passes, the two of you motionless but melting into one another, before he finally plants another kiss in your hair, arms tightening infinitesimally, squeezing you to his form. 

“Hate that you work such long hours. Love this uniform on you, though,” you murmur into his chest, nuzzling your cheek against the starched fabric of his jacket. 

A gentle laugh rumbles behind his sternum. 

“Is that so?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“How much do you love it on me?” 

“I think you know,” you say shyly, peeking up from his chest. 

He does know—he can smell it on you, can smell the arousal rapidly seeping into the silk of your panties, can feel the warmth on his thigh through the thin material, a swiftly expanding patch of slick. 

But he wants to hear you say it. 

“How much?” he repeats, slow, stern, an order. 

A stringy whine sounds in your throat and your bottom lip juts out further, chin puckering, but you obey anyway, heat staining your cheeks. 

“So much. So much it makes me wet,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut, scorching prickles of humiliation rippling beneath your skin. “So much it makes my clit throb and pussy flutter,” you grind against his thigh in emphasis, legs tightening around it. “Feel it?” 

A hum of recognition vibrates on his tongue, head nodding. His cock twitches against your hip—just once, nothing more than a greeting—and you giggle, humping his leg with a little more vigour. 

“Sit down, Daddy,” you say softly, delicate fingers unfastening his cape and pushing it from his shoulders. “Let me fix you a drink.” 

“It’s late,” he says, but he goes willingly, collapsing in his favourite armchair. “You should be in bed.”

“And you work so hard,” you respond lightly, prancing over to the gold bar cart, filled with sparkling decanters and amber liquor. “Let me do this for you. Then bed, pinky promise.”

With a small resigned smile, he nods, accepting a crystal glass of scotch from you a moment later. Ice clinks against the sides as he brings it to his lips, taking a slow sip, another sigh seeping from his chest, the burn of alcohol eating away at more tension, liquifying his tired muscles.

You assume your designated position then, on the floor at his feet, between his spread knees, cheek laid against his thigh. A large hand cups your head, thumb stroking your hair in slow, rhythmic motions. 

This has become somewhat of a habit as of late. The Armed Detective Agency case has been devouring all of Jouno’s time, and it has left him with mere crumbs to give to you.

He’s just about polished off his drink when your hands begin to wander, palms smooth as they run up his strong thighs, dainty fingers digging into lean muscle as they go, his legs instinctively spreading wider. 

Your head shifts, eyes gazing up at him adoringly—he may not be able to see you, but he can feel you, your body welded to his shin as your hands work, your face nosing along his thigh, cuddling into him, desperate to be as close as physically possible.

He swears he can feel your stare, too, potent and powerful and oozing thick love as it slathers across his skin, dousing him in indescribable warmth. It saturates the air around you both, enveloping your tangled bodies in its dense embrace, permeating his flesh straight to his very soul, where it poisons him so sweetly. 

It’ll always amaze him, how someone can look at him with such reverence, such admiration, like he’s a fucking god, so strongly that he can sense it—feel it on his body, taste it on his tongue. It’s fucking intoxicating, his cock twitching again in his trousers, a rush of hot blood fizzing through his veins.

Your fingers knead aching muscles steadily, expertly, climbing a little higher with each cycle through the routine, closer and closer to the apex of his thighs but never quite reaching it. 

It’s utterly teasing, rigid flesh mollifying beneath your amorous motions as the pressures of the day leak from his pores, massaged from his body by your gracious hands, wrung from his soul bit by bit. 

It’s utterly teasing, but it’s so good, a craving for more clawing at the pit of his stomach, igniting a mild itch in his veins.

Something sounds in his throat, the ghost of a whimper—something he’s hopeless at smothering, an instinctual, uncontrollable reaction to you—and he feels your body respond, a minuscule jerk of your muscles in response, a curious little gesture imbued with a question. 

Gasping gently, your gaze slides down, watching with a sort of morbid fascination as his cock fills with life, as it strains, more and more, heavier and heavier, against his maroon trousers, yearning for your tongue, your touch. Grinding your fingers into tense tissue near his hips, you giggle a little at the way it jerks gently, begging you for attention. Another noise plays on the back of his tongue; a caution this time, not to play around too much.  

Finally, you lean forward, hands clamped around his thighs, and nuzzle into his swelling cock, rubbing your face against it like a cat with a small hum of contentment.

A fond little melody falls from his lips, nothing more than a wisp of breath—so starkly different from his usual sharp snickers, most often kept sealed behind smirking lips and reserved for those who deserve it—something private, something just for him to savour and enjoy, his palm moving to caress your head again, urging you further into his groin.

“Really do love this uniform so much,” you mumble out dreamily, muffled by the material. 

“Show me,” he breathes, just barely shifting beneath your touch. “Show Daddy.”

Fondling halted, you pull back slightly, staring down the bridge of your nose at his cock, almost as if you’re taking a moment to admire it before scattering a few well-placed kisses along the silhouette—underside, shaft, tip. It jumps beneath your lips in response, and you giggle again, snuggling back into it lovingly. 

Tongue unfurling from your mouth, you trace the bulge slow and sloppy, dragging your the slick muscle along the outline of his massive cock and leaving a damp, gleaming trail across his lap. His hips twitch ever-so-slightly, a motion you wouldn’t have noticed had you not had your entire face pressed into his crotch, and you relent, tongue grinding over the head in hard, steady strokes—back and forth, back and forth—before your mouth closes around it as best it can, suckling at the tip.

And you swear you can taste his pre-cum, dribbling from his slit and oozing through the thick material of his work pants, bitter and strong like his favourite blend of coffee. A moan slips from your lips, the sound hot and wavering against him, your lapping turned desperately vigorous, starved for another drop of him. 

You’re making a real mess now, he’s sure of it, threads of spit knitting your lips to his trousers, chin syrupy with your own drool, smudged across your mouth and jaw, a direct result of your burrowing.  

He’s getting restless now, you can tell, can feel it in the way his thighs clench, can hear it in the gentle, barely-there hitch of his breath with each firm glide of your tongue over his cockhead. And eventually, finally, he snaps, just like he always does, just like every other night before. 

“It’s not nice to get Daddy’s cock hard and then not do anything about it, baby,” he warns, amicable tone sewn together with an implicit threat. “Don’t be a little tease, now. Finish what you’ve started.”

The authority in his voice—not a statement, not a suggestion, but a demand, a direct order—sends spears of heady adrenaline shooting through your chest, body jolting, and you nod, fingers obeying immediately, instinctively. 

The heavy brass buckle of his belt jingles as you hastily unfasten it, leaving it hung undone as you shove his jacket up and pop the button of his trousers, mewling a little at the way the smooth planes of his stomach flex, tightening in anticipation.

Hooking your fingers in his waistband, you tug his pants to his ankles, Jouno lifting his hips and aiding your efforts, cock greeting you eagerly a moment later, slit drooling pearly sap. 

“Oh, gosh, Daddy,” you whimper, sounding almost on the verge of tears—you’re not, of course, he would know if you were—voice infused with sheer awe. “It’s—It’s so pretty.”

He’s sure it is, with its pretty pink tip, flushed a shade of rose, and its perfectly symmetrical shaft, straighter than Cupid’s arrow, and its delicate veins, ivied around his girth and softer than velvet.

Logically, you should already know this; you’ve certainly seen it enough times. But every time you pull it from his pants is like the first time all over again, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love your fawning, even if it is characteristic.

“I bet it looks even prettier in your mouth,” he says, and there’s a trace of melancholy in his tone, as if he genuinely regrets being unable to see it. 

You take that as your cue to get to work, wrapping a palm around the base of his cock and taking him between your lips, tongue curling almost protectively around the shaft as you suck him in. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, a palm cupped beneath your chin, thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “Take the whole thing down your throat, as much as you can.” 

And, really, you do try your very hardest, your very bestest, to take as much of him as possible, throat gorging on his cock.

But it still isn’t nearly enough. 

Because you’re already coughing just before you reach the halfway point, spasming around his tip as your body tries to reject him.

And, oh, that just won’t do. 

“Aw, is that all you can fit in your little mouth?” he clicks his tongue, as if he’s disappointed, though there’s a sharp smirk on his lips. “How pitiful. That’s alright, Daddy’s here to help you.” 

A large palm finds its rightful place on the crown of your head, fingers splayed across your hair and digging into your scalp as he presses down, slowly, his breath stammering with each constriction of your throat.

This is how it always starts. 

Leisurely but firm, you’re forced to take his cock inch by inch until the whole thing’s shoved down your throat, your nose pressed flush to his pubic bone—pause, hold, choke, release, repeat—enabling him to feel every single gag and gurgle his actions elicit, taking his time to savour them, to breathe in your pain and torment and let it marinate in his bones. 

Because it’s all so heavenly, isn’t it? To feel every pulse, every choke, every squeeze of distress and know that, despite it all—despite the drops of crystal streaking your cheeks (he can smell them) and the viscous snot pouring from your nose (he can feel them, dripping on his cock) and the foaming little bubbles of spit collecting in the divots of your puckered lips (he can hear them)—you’re still taking him, you’re still doing the very best you can for your Daddy, to please your Daddy.

And that dedication, that utter devotion—that’s better than anything else in the world, that’s the best. 

He continues like this, agonizingly unhurried, until your throat is grated raw by the sobs, and your jaw is aching, little muscles stiff and locked, and he can no longer tell which convulsions are from his cock and which are simply a result of your crying. 

Christ, it’s so easy to make you cry, sweet little sniffles and shredded little snivels that dribble past the seams of your lips—pretty little mouth jammed full of him—and it’s such a beautiful sound, precious noises reduced to nothing more than a gentle stuttering in your throat as they’re pushed back into your chest by the steady driving of his cock.  

Finally the pressure on the back of your head lets up, but you don’t dare raise a mere centimeter, whole body quivering as you struggle to stay right where he left you, mouth stretched wide at the base of his cock.

He ceases all action for a moment or two, forces you to hold the position, revels in the sweet sounds of anguish trembling around his cockhead, before his palms grasp your cheeks, fingers so long they nearly overlap at the back of your skull, holding your head steady.

And then, he truly begins, abrupt and without any warning, hips pumping hard and fast, fucking your mouth with a sort of ruthless vigour, a relentless voracity, the thick soles of his boots squealing against the hardwood as he uses his planted feet as leverage.

Your grip on his legs tightens with each piston, nails biting into the flexing muscles of his thighs, and he laughs breathlessly; how absolutely adorable.

And oh, it’s so messy, he can feel your stringy saliva drooling from the corners of your mouth to drizzle off your chin in fat, sticky cords, swaying and stretching with each ram of his cock. They splatter almost artfully across his bare thighs, cooling upon impact, inspiring a crop of chills to pebble across his skin.

He can feel your warm tears, too, dripping off your jaw to collect on his flesh in little puddles, can smell their potent salt—bitter and tangy and making his mouth water—as they leave crusted trails on your cheeks. Thick hunger collects in the creases beneath his tongue, a longing to lick them clean from your face, to sop his tongue full of your devout servitude and stain his tastebuds with your tartness, to swallow down any and every bit of you, let you take root in the pit of his stomach and bloom there, grow there, fester there, for eternity. 

Everything must hurt, he thinks, all your muscles coiled tense and taut, but you pry your jaw open wider for him, just like the good girl you are, desperate to take as much of him as possible, devoted to your cause.

Because no matter how much it hurts, you’re enjoying this just as much as he is.

A moan catches in his throat as the dense scent of your arousal hits him, and God, it’s so strong, you must’ve soaked right through your panties by now, must be gushing slick all over your inner thighs, coating them in your essence. 

He wishes he could taste that, too; mop it up with his tongue and saturate every inch of his mouth with you.

“You’re so wet from this, huh?” he says, question fading into a feathery breath, the only indication this is affecting him at all. “Naughty girl. Are you leaking all over our nice hardwood floor? Should Daddy make you lick it up afterward, punishment for making such a mess?”

You choke around his cock in response, and he groans, hips stuttering slightly before regaining momentum. The rubber toe of his boot nudges your thighs and they part instantly for him, allowing him space to wedge beneath your cunt. 

“My poor baby,” he spits through a mocking pout. “You must be so horny from sucking Daddy’s cock. Here,” his toe pushes up, grinding into your hole and evoking a soft yelp, “why don’t you hump Daddy’s boot while he occupies your mouth.” 

You comply immediately, hips snapping into action, rutting against his foot with a sort of greedy eagerness, ravenous for any little part of him he’ll give to you.

He can’t feel how sopping wet you are through the thick rubber of his boot, which is truly such a shame, but he can hear the embarrassing squelching of your drenched cunt as you rub it into his toe. 

It’s probably leaving such a pretty sheen of your slick across the top, a thick layer that glitters as prettily as the tears on your face must.

“There you go,” he says, sugary sweet condescension dripping from his words. “Does that feel better, baby?”

All you can do is whimper in agreement, the gentle sound sending vibrations down his shaft, and his hips jerk, belt buckle clinking together as his thrusts turn vicious, such a delicate melody contradicted by the growls and snarls he keeps swallowing back.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he nearly gasps out, edges of his letters turned ragged. “Such a good little toy for me, aren’t you?” 

He hears your heart jump in your chest, fluttering at his praise, a torrent of warmth rushing through his veins in response, leaving his blood tingling. 

“You love it when Daddy uses you, don’t you, precious?”

You respond with another sloppy moan, tongue quivering around his cock, and a whine breaks in his throat, sharp and jagged. 

It’s building in his gut, a heady rapture, stomach beginning to contract as the muscles draw up into firm knots, scrunched by cresting pleasure. Shards of hedonism escape his nose in uneven little huffs, matching the relentless pace of his hips.

It all harmonizes so perfectly, the sounds shattering on his tongue and the stifled sobs shoved back down your throat and the squeak, squeal, squelch of your cunt on his boot, of his soles on the hardwood floor, of his cock fucking your mouth.

His actions have turned clumsy now, a stark contrast from his usual prim perfection, palms slippery with sweat on your jaw, grip tightening as his fingers readjust, digging bruises in the shape of his prints into your scalp.  

He’s sure they’ll be swollen tomorrow. He can’t wait to feel them.

Three more thrusts and then he’s forcing copious amounts of hot, thick cum down your throat, holding your head in place as his cock throbs on your tongue, each pulse spilling another rope of cream into your mouth. 

And, oh, it’s so much, too much, cum collecting in the divots of your cheeks and the creases beneath your tongue, but you don’t waste a fucking drop, swallowing obediently around him with every surge, making room for the next load. 

And then you don’t fucking stop, zealous in your quest to milk him for everything he’s got to give you, desperate to fill your tummy with as much of him as you possibly can, enough to sustain you until you get to see him next, at this time tomorrow night. 

You suck him fucking dry, suck every ounce of cum from his balls, suck until a bristled shudder runs through his form and a hiss is spit through his teeth, the white-hot overstimulation now too much for him to bear, fingers tangling in your hair and pulling you up.

You collapse on his thighs the moment he releases your head, weeping into his soiled skin—a mess of salt and drool and snot and cum—your ribs hiccuping with frayed breaths and harsh sobs, nails scraping weakly against his flesh in a pitiful attempt to tug yourself closer.

A coo slips from his lips, the sound both compassionate and condescending, as if he finds your tattered soul so cute; slashed yourself to pieces for him, always for him.

“Come here, darling,” his hands slip beneath your languid arms and hoist you up, dragging you into his lap and cradling you to his chest, collecting the remaining ribbons of you in his arms, strong and protective. 

“Da-Daddy!” you’re wailing into his neck, fingers curling in the collar of his stiff jacket, spit and tears staining the pristine material a chalky white. “Daddy, Daddy.”

Clinging to him, you bury your face in his shoulder, another rough sob hacking through your form, and he hugs you tighter, gentle hushes falling from his lips as they scatter kisses across the top of your head.

“I know, I know, I’m here,” he murmurs into your hair, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin. “You did good, sweetheart. You did so good for me. You always do.”

Tender fingers press into your sore muscles as he rocks your bodies; a slow rhythmic swaying, back and forth, back and forth, while sweet nothings pour from his mouth, voice hot against your skin. The words are even warmer, snuggling into your flesh between soft kisses, the little hitches in your breath—residual sobs that have your chest stuttering and your nose sniffling—ironing themselves out with each brush of his lips. 

And although he loves returning home to you no matter what the circumstance, this is, and always will be, his favourite way to be greeted after a long, gruelling day.

Maybe he’ll sit here, just like this, for a little while longer. 

[mx-pastelwriting]

Kinktober Day 14: Vibrator

(Pre-War) Cooper Howard x GN! Reader

Summary: Impatient with the miles left to your vacation home, Cooper turns on some entertainment that being you moaning a squirming in the passenger chair.

Warnings: Established Relationship, Smut, Vibrator, Remote Vibrator, Cooper over Reader (w/Vibrator)

Kinktober Masterlist

Minors do not interact!

Pushing back down Cooper's hand feeling as it crept up your thigh for the fifth time, looking over to him, seeing a smile on his lips with a mischievous glance.

Biting back a smile, though starting to get sick of his impatience, being just as eager as Cooper, you still sat backhands in place, sneaking glances over to his face and lap. Though tempted to reach over and find the zipper to his pants, the thought of tomorrow's newspaper mentioning you both kept you tame.

Feeling Cooper's hand left your thigh, pulling you from your thoughts, watching it dig into his pants pocket, pulling out a small remote. Pushing one of the many buttons on it, electrifying something inside you.

Gasping sharply, feeling a familiar buzz of excitement inside your walls, leaving no breaks for you to catch your breath. Looking over to Cooper, hazily making out a smirk staining his lips with eyes forward, for now, only needing your moans to get through the drive.

All of it pushes a memory to the front of your mind, fighting tirelessly against the mush that is your brain. Remembering the night before Cooper used the same vibrator on you only in the morning before hopping in the car, he insisted on you keeping it in so as to not waste time when getting to the vacation home.

Squirming in the passenger, struggling to get comfortable with the new feeling of euphoria that fought with your stiff joints, resting your head back, looking over to Cooper, watching legs open and close, followed by a hissed curse.

Swiftly, his hand goes back to resting on your thigh, feeling the hungered desperation in his squeeze, before quickly pulling away to palm his growing cock that tented in his pants. Knowing the amount of miles you had left, Cooper would soon pull over, having you either in the back or front seat. Cursing out as he slid into your walls, planning on doing the same an hour later.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

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[chaostudee]

the secret of us , chapter four.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

a couple of hours later you are at home getting ready with your friends to go out but you cant help it when your eyes briefly scan the piece of paper that lewis gave you.

your cheeks burn as you remember the interaction but you know better that nothing can become of it yet you slip the piece of paper into your purse along with your lip gloss and keys.

once you arrived at the club you followed your friends to the bar where you all bought a round of shots. a couple of hours later you find yourself on the dance floor swaying from side to side with a beer in your hand to the music.

although the main purpose of tonight was to forget him you couldn't help but think about the way his eyes latched onto yours or when your hands brushed when he slipped you his number.

you stop dancing and gulp thinking about it. you look around in the mob of people only to find your friends no where to be found. your first instinct was to find your purse of course which luckily you had but you were distraught to find that your phone was gone.

you put a hand over your mouth in worry and groan as you have a horrible headache from all the alcohol and truthfully it is even hard to stand without feeling dizzy. you sigh as you go to walk outside to go catch some air.

the streets were near quiet and you longed to know what time it was. you bite your lip before taking one last look in your purse only to find the one thing you were trying to avoid. lewis's number. you chuckle realising that you rly have no option since you honestly have no clue of any of your friends numbers and no money for a taxi.

a man nearby is txting on his phone so you go and give it a shot.

"um sry is it okay if i use your phone for one second"

the guy looks up and looks at you weirdly but once noticing that you were desperate he sighs and hands you the phone.

"thank you so much i wont be long"

the man grunts in response. you walk a few metres away and start typing in his number. just as you are about to dial you question why are u doing this? surely there is someone else? but you know right well that there isn't.

you dial and the line starts ringing.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

lewis is sat in a bar with most of the grid sat beside george as he laughs at another joke he made. lewis looks at the clock seeing that it is nearly 2am and sighs.

as he looks around at the decor he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket which is obviously unsual at this hour. he pulls out his phone and sees that it is an unknown caller, his first unstinct is to block but there is only few people who had his number and now you being on of them. he smiles softly to himself realising it could be you.

"hey you okay man?" george asks

"um ye um i got to take this real quick" he says trying to hide his smile.

george nods but narrows his eyes as he notices lewis happy demeanour which was not often seen only on the rare chance he was with someone. george smiles to himself.

lewis walks outside and answers.

"hi"

"oh um hi lewis its me um yn"

"you just couldnt last that long without hearing my voice again"

you blush and chuckle "um well.....no not exactly um...i"

lewis notices your shaky speech. "hey um you okay? he didn't hurt you again did he??"

you let out a sarcastic laugh. "um you know what no im actually not okay you see um this is not even my phone, i lost it, my friends ditched me here at this club, and i had a few too many beers and i feel like shit and now im calling this cute guy that gave me his number because i literally have no one else"

"shit im sry but if you need a lift i can get my driver to pick you up if u want"

"are u sure i dont want to be a burden" you ask running a hand through your hair.

"you're not a burden don't worry and now i can get an excuse to leave this horrible bar"

you groan. "oh god im so sry i totally forgot that george told me he was going out tonight"

at the mention of george you both go quiet.

"please don't mention this to george he would actually kill me if he knew"

lewis nods and looks in the window at his teamate filled with guilt. he looks away. "okay".

"can you send me your location?" lewis breaks the silence with his question. you do as he requests.

"okay ill be there in 20"

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the cold brisk air nipped at your feet and you couldn't help but shiver in instinct. your eyes scanned the main road waiting for lewis.

momentarily a black limo pulled up and not to your surprise lewis jumped out and looked around frantically for you.

once he had spotted you he sighed in relief and made his way over to you.

"oh thank god you're okay"

you smile shyly at him but you are so utterly exhausted that you can't even utter a word.

lewis catches onto this and nods in understanding. he takes the jacket from around his shoulders and places it on your own. your cheeks redden, his familiar smell wafting into your nostrils.

lewis guides you to the car, opening the door for you, making sure that you are comfortable before going around the otherside and getting in himself.

"you're staying at the same hotel as all the other drivers right?" lewis asks looking over at you to confirm his query. you nod in response before deciding to devote your attention the scenic views of the city.

the moonlight that shone on your face enamoured lewis and he kept glancing at your hand which lay palm facing upwards. he wanted to place his own ontop of yours and intertwine your fingers. he watched as you unwinded the window so that your hair flew ascrew across your face. he wanted to trace your cheek and pull your hair away from your eyes. his eyes scanned your face and watched as your tooth latched onto your lower lip.

his chest constricted when you looked over at him giving him a weird and confused expression.

"why are you looking at me like that?"

"like what?"

"like u want me"

lewis's eyes widen and he chuckles. "you're drunk y/n".

you roll your eyes. "well done for stating the obvious handsome".

lewis narrows his eyes and looks at you. "don't call me that"

"aw i thought you liked that" you say pouting.

lewis shakes his head. "fuck y/n pls stop messing with my head. we both know that sober you would never ever do this shit"

you chuckle. "well that's the fun of it". you take your hand and begin to trace up his arm but he pulls it away.

as the car begins to slow lewis sits up straight. "looks like we are here"

you groan, a sudden rush of nausea hitting you again.

lewis hops out and heads around to your side of the car and opens your door for you.

"are you okay to walk?"

you look up at him and then back down at your feet, you can already feel the blisters forming and your legs feel like jelly.

"um yeah i'll be fine"

you go to stand up but immediately fall and lewis supports his arm around you.

"you sure about that?" lewis chuckles. "god you are so stubborn"

"here sit down so i can take these off" lewis instructs as he points to your heels.

he glares at you and you obey. lewis gets down on his knees as he begins to unbuckle your heels. your heart is racing as his fingers brush the side of your leg. sure your head was woozy and you were most likely not going to remember this in the morning but when lewis looked up at you, holding your pair of heels in his hand you wanted nothing more than to kiss the shit out of him.

lewis eyes your feet and notices a trickle of blood coming from your heel. "fuck y/n you could have told me you were in pain" he says frustrated with you.

"i'm sorry" you mumble "i just didn't think you would care that much".

lewis shakes his hand and brings his hand to his forehead. "i care abou y/n okay so please don't keep anything from me, you can trust me i promise".

his words seem so sincere and his hand on your thigh is comforting in a way.

"okay?"

"okay" your reply.

lewis looks at the hotel. "what floor are you on?"

"oh god um i think it's 24 or 25 fuck idk i'm sorry"

"it's okay i'll figure it out"

lewis wraps his arms around you and lifts you up into his arms.

"what are u doing"

"i'm carrying you because you are certaintly not walking that distance"

you want to protest but don't.

lewis carries you up multiple flights of stairs before you make it to your door.

lewis allows you to get out of his grip as he tries to open the door. he takes a credit card from his wallet and uses it to unlock the door. shockingly it worked.

lewis helps you into the room and sets you down onto the bed. he watches as you collapse onto the bed and lay there in a ball. your dress begins to ride up and he quickly looks away.

"y/n sweetheart you have got to get changed i don't want you to be uncomfortable and also your makeup"

you groan in reponse, too tired to function.

lewis sighs. "come on i'll help you". lewis helps you sit up and you rub your eyes trying to rub your eyes free of sleep.

you sit up reluntantly. "um my pyjamas are in the top drawer over there" you mumble pointing the to top dresser.

lewis opens the drawer and picks out a set and throws it at you.

"thanks"

"um can you turn around real quick"

he coughs. "oh yeah yeah i'm sorry"

you change in the nick of time and then you are greeted by an awkward silence.

"you can go now" you say stifling a yawn.

lewis's eyes widen. "um okay....are you sure though?"

you hesitate but nod firmly. "you should get back to the guys"

"i don't really want to go back to them though" he admits with a shrug.

"then go home get some rest you had a long weekend" you suggest as a compromise.

"but i don't want to leave you here alone"

"but i'm always alone"

"yeah but you don't have to be"

"lewis...."

"please just let me stay"

"well you can sleep on the couch ig"

"thank you".

"no problem okay well um goodnight lewis and thanks for everything tonight it means alot".

lewis nods. "i'm here for you y/n whether you like or not".

you smile shyly and hop into bed as you watch him walk out of the room. it wasn't long before you had drifted off into a deep sleep.

lewis tossed and turned on the couch and the constant ticking of the clock bugged him. the light that emerged from your room enticed him. he couldn't stop thinking about you. part of him knew he was being crazy. he practically begged you to stay over and you hardly even knew eachother but even so he wanted nothing more than to be close to you.

lewis gets up and hovers outside your door before making a peek into your room. he smiles seeing your stoic figure in a peaceful sleep. upon spotting an armchair at the side of the bed he sat down in it as he kept a watchful eye on you. as the night passed his eyes fluttered and it wasn't long either before he had drifted off aswell dreaming about the company he had enjoyed that day and how he was hoping for many more days like today.

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@rafeyybabyy

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[savventeen]

hmm savv what would u do with mutual pining and woozi? :3c

daisy,,, beloved,,,,,,,,,, how dare you make me think about mutual pining w/ woozi ( /hj ) (i am already pining for him and thinking abt MUTUAL pining is going to drive me actually insane methinks g o d sdkjflskjdf)

ok so. SO. after vibrating in my seat and fantasizing abt lying down in the middle of the floor for the rest of time as i think about this concept, i have come to the following conclusion: mixtapes. and i mean in the classic "hey i made you this mixtape" sense

reader and jihoon are both producers for the same label and don't really interact that much at first. in fact, they don't actually even meet for the first time until soonyoung invites them both to his birthday party and they start talking shop, bonding over teasing soonyoung, and then ending the night with a promise to grab lunch together sometime.

fast forward a couple of months and they are officially Friends. they've managed to start a tradition of getting lunch together once a week and bitching about various work bullshit, and they've also started to hang out together in group settings after realizing they have more mutual friends as well

reader is the first one to send jihoon a song. it's a few hours after their weekly vent session, jihoon having taken up most of the time complaining about shitty higher-ups giving ridiculous deadlines and stuck-up idol wannabes trying to tell him how to do his job without having a clue about what his job actually is, and he gets a message from reader that says "i feel like this fits ur current mood" with a link to a song. [cw the song linked has a somewhat startling gun sound] he clicks on the link, curious, and then bursts out laughing after a few confused moments of listening bc that was NOT what he was expecting, at all

and that's how it starts, really. a few days later, he sends reader a song with the caption "how much u wanna bet soonyoung would choreograph something to this just bc it has the word 'tiger' in the title" / "no bet he absolutely would" / "ur no fun :P" / "sorry can't hear you i'm sending it to soonyoung as we speak"

pretty soon they're sending songs back and forth almost daily "what are ur thoughts on this" / "?? i don't speak french" / "and?" / "...ok yeah this is p good" "is this kinda close to the vibe you're trying to get for that one group you're working with?" / "not quite. but that's ok bc IM Vibin with this one" "i need u to stop whatever ur doing and listen to this with the bassist bass you can get with w/ ur setup" / "ok??" ... "holy shit" / "RIGHT?"

fast forward another couple of months, and reader shows up to jihoon's studio with a can of coke zero and a flash drive. "what's this?" / "this, my dear woozi-ssi, is going to be the solution to our creative blocks" and then reader goes on to explain their idea: they both have tracks that they're stuck on (personal, professional, or otherwise), and so they're gonna 'sisterhood of the traveling pants this shit' ('i literally have no idea what you're talking about'). aka: reader put some files they're having trouble with on this flash drive, and jihoon's gonna add any notes/ideas he has and then give it back with some of his own trouble files on it. rinse and repeat

and not only does it work ("ohmygod i've been trying to figure out that bridge transition for DAYS THANK YOU") but it also becomes Their Thing. like, they're used to collaborating with other writers/producers/etc bc it comes with the job, but something about this silly little flash drive... feels Special. [*cough*it's because they're catching Feelings*cough*]

tHIS IS GETTING SO LONG FUCK OKAY other things i would include in this fic: - one noticing the other has been working on a lot more love songs lately (or maybe a lot more Sad (read: pining) love songs) - reader has a bad day at some point and they end up losing the flash drive and they have a breakdown over it (jihoon comforts them and also helps them find it we love emotional hurt/comfort in this household) - scenes where they're individually waxing poetic about the other to different friends and the friends are like "bro. ur in love with them" "uh, no? they just have a great work ethic and a great taste in music also their lyricism is just—" "you. are. in. love." "i admire them professionally!

AND THEN THE CONCLUSION!! one of them decides to bite the metaphorical bullet and confess their Feelings. this could be either of them, but i'm gonna go with jihoon bc i can. so of course he can't just say "hey i love you" like a normal person, he has to confess through music. so he goes out and buys a new flash drive (with a really cute cover bc he knows they'd like it) and puts two folders on there. the first folder is full of instrumental files and is titled "all the times i couldn't find the words". and the second folder is titled "and all the times i could" and it's all love songs he's written inspired by/for reader

he sneaks into their studio and leaves the flash drive on your desk while you're in a meeting, and then he Waits and waits and waits some more until it's time to go home and it's been total radio silence and his heart feels like it's been crushed. so he starts to head home in the rain (bc i am a cheesy bastard and love rainy confession scenes) but after a few minutes of walking he hears shouting behind him and he turns to see you sprinting at him while screaming his name and before he can get a word out you're clutching his shoulders, soaked to the bone and asking "do you mean it? the songs, did— do you really mean it?"

and all he can do is nod because his heart still hasn't quite found its way back to his chest yet, and then he can't nod anymore because you're kissing him. you're kissing him, and he drops the umbrella he was holding and you're both kissing in the rain bc you're both obnoxious helpless romantics and "y/n-ah, i mean it— i mean it. i love you"

"i love you too, you stupid romantic bastard oh my god"

"hey, you're the one who started kissing me in the rain"

and it ends like the cheesy romcom this turned into bc i couldn't help myself and i need to lie down in a puddle of feelings now k thx

[send me a person and a trope/au and i'll tell you what kind of plot i'd write for them]

[leaahhh]

two tuesdays ago i traversed uptown to get my left ear cut open. back in october, i had impulsively gotten a new earring while i was pitifully sad during a morning walk. “to feel something,” i’d sighed to friends, who mostly rolled their eyes. 

it never stopped hurting. helix piercings are notorious for taking longer to heal, but mine remained extra stubborn, consistently tender to the touch and annoyingly easily irritated. i winced every time i slept on it (i knew there would always be at the very least a dull ache and willingly went forward with it anyway, even as a side sleeper). on new year’s eve it started showing signs of infection. the back of my ear swelled up to an alarming size, hot and beet red and bulbous. just a handful of hours later – 11:53pm, minutes before the clock struck midnight and the year turned over – i used my phone to take a photo and saw that the skin had completely closed over the jewelry, backing and all.

the pain numbed almost instantly. my body had swallowed this foreign object in defiance, embedding it into my cartilage, threatening to remain in my bones.

i flew back to new york and spent a week mindlessly tugging at it, aware i should probably get it looked at but not bothered enough to feel much of an urgency at all. it wasn’t until my roommate, who i flippantly told the story to one afternoon, shone a flashlight onto the back of my ear and insisted it was genuinely concerning. she said she was coming with me to urgent care that weekend.

at urgent care i was referred to an ENT up at columbus circle for an emergency appointment. as i sat in the waiting room, i scrolled tiktok with the sound off (my new preferred way of interacting with that app, until i delete it entirely). i saw a video about an old song exploder podcast episode featuring phoebe bridgers and marshall vore diving deep on “scott street” from 2017’s ‘stranger in the alps,’ which i’ve long considered a truly Perfect Song. it was my favorite for months after it dropped and has remained highly important to me for the past half decade. i’d listened to that podcast when it came out, but by now had forgotten nearly everything that was said. i reminded myself to give it another listen on my trip home.

minutes later, a plastic surgeon examined my fucked up ear and confirmed that my version of what happened was true. he numbed it up, handed me some odd vibrating device that was supposed to help “distract my brain from the pain.” still, it was excruciating. i heard him make the incision then use a variation of sharp metal tools to dig out the jewelry. grating, like nails on a chalkboard. when it was out, i shyly asked if i could keep it; he handed it back to me in a tiny manila folder.

“you probably shouldn’t get it pierced in that same spot again,” he said.

i turned on the “scott street” podcast as i left the surgeon’s office, hearing marshall and phoebe break down the track. marshall spoke of a previous relationship that inspired the lyrics.

“this person did love me, but they were also working against me," he explained. "i wonder if they’re ashamed of that, and i wonder if they’ve grown up.” 

“it’s so sad and weird to play catch up with someone who was so intimately involved in your life for so long,” phoebe added. 

at the conclusion of the episode, “scott street” played in its entirety as i walked through the passageway from the E to the G at court square. i closed my eyes, hands in my pockets drumming along to the familiar series of bells and train horns, ear bandaged and shot up with lidocaine. i considered friendship, shame, forgiveness, and my penchant for purposely reopening wounds while the outro of the song repeated over and over again: “anyway, don’t be a stranger.”

maybe you've caught onto the fact that this story isn't about an earring.

in an unrelated moment of desperation last fall, i’d posted a zoomed-in selfie on my close friends instagram story with a massive text block overriding it, reading: “CAN SOMEONE CONFIRM IF TIME REALLY HEALS?” several people responded with casual optimism (and probably exasperation towards my visible months-long spiral), but adam’s response stood out:

“it just lives in you differently.”

EDIT: walked past the shop i got my piercing at today; this sign sat outside:

[dnash-moved]

Okay, your follow up post just makes me want to have a Smashlike with all the Sonic characters.

HI YES?? oh my God, no like. literally?? I want a remake/revamp of Sonic Battle so badly. I've wanted one for so long now.

Sonic Battle is so underrated I never hear people talking about it, it was so fun too. Imagine a new version, with cleaner graphics and tighter controls, with an updated roster. Silver! Blaze! Metal Sonic! Espio! Jet! Maybe Infinite from Sonic Forces, and Zavok from Lost World, as end of game unlockables!! there's so many characters they could put in there.

Also, Sonic's moveset in Sonic Battle was super creative and more in depth than what smash bros gave sonic. which makes me super upset bc like. in SSBU all they gave sonic was spindash moves, just about.... He has a full moveset In Sonic Battle yet I don't think they sampled it at all and that still sits bad w me.

and now that I'm thinking of it there's even an arcade game, Sonic Fighters, how do you have two sonic fighting games yet STILL only give sonic three spindashes and a homing attack,,

[broadstbroskis]

take my hand, wreck my plans | william nylander

a/n: if you’ve been around this blog for a while, you’ve probably seen me talking about “willy fake dating fic” for quite a bit now...well here she is! settle in for a long read (the longest i’ve posted in one go before) and i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! so so so much love to literally every single person who cheered me on while writing this, but extra special thanks to @denis-scorianov​ and @danglesnipecelly​ for all your love and support

also shoutout to my girl tswift for the title, evermore still slaps

word count: 21.5k

It’s right in the middle of the busiest hours of the day when Steph’s text comes in, which means Aubrey barely even reads the message. She sees the words dinner and Friday and responds that she’ll be there, and then goes back to trying to fix the clusterfuck of code that one of her coworkers messed up earlier in the morning before her project has to get sent off to a client at the end of the week.

By the time Friday comes around, she’s only just managed to fix the code but the project is finished enough to send off as a first draft, so Aubrey races over to Steph and Mitch’s place after work, knowing she looks frazzled as hell from the look on her best friend’s face the minute she enters their kitchen. “Sweetie.” Steph says, then bites her lip. 

The feeling is mutual to Aubrey, because she’s giving Steph the same once over that Steph’s giving her. She’d arrived from the office, which took casual Friday to the extreme, in her favorite leggings, denim jacket, and converse- still enjoying the last bit of summer before Toronto turned to fall. Meanwhile Steph was dressed up for the evening in jeans and a flowy top. Her hair was done, her makeup looked beautiful; nothing about her screamed casual dinner at home. Certainly not like the messy ponytail Aubrey was rocking, after running over from work.

“Wine?” Mitch offers, breaking the silence, and Aubrey nods immediately, forgetting entirely about...whatever is going on here in favor of the alcohol she’s been needing since she arrived at the office today.

Mitch pours a glass and offers it out, but honestly, fuck that; Aubrey reaches for the bottle instead and takes a sip. “Nope, listen, these motherfuckers-” And then, she cuts herself off abruptly as she catches sight of the single most beautiful man she has ever had the pleasure of even having in her field of vision, leaning against the counter.

“No, go ahead.” Blondie grins, and fuck that, of course, he’s got the most beautiful smile too. “These motherfuckers, what?”

“Fucked up a huge project at work this week.” Aubrey finishes, pretty lamely, compared to how heated she’d started that sentence. 

“Gonna start throwing that at Matts.” Blondie grins again. “Anytime he fucks up a pass to me. This motherfucker.”

“Heh.” She laughs, lifting the wine bottle in a cheers-esque manner, and then, not knowing what else to do, she takes another large sip.

Blondie is still grinning when Aubrey brings her bottle back down and Mitch is doing a very poor job of hiding a laugh, but it’s not hard to see that Steph’s making murder eyes that Aubrey pointedly ignores, so Steph turns her attention away with a sigh. “What’s up, Will?”

“Oh, uh, Matts and Alison nominated me to see if there was anything we could do to help.” Will says smoothly.

“We?” Mitch raises an eyebrow, at the distinct lack of we that arrived with Will.

“Well.” Will shrugs, like that should explain everything, and maybe it does, because Mitch only snorts.

“We’re okay.” Steph jumps in. “We’ll all be out soon.”

Will nods, and leaves Aubrey with one last grin, before he turns and heads out towards their back patio, which must be where dinner is taking place, but as soon as the door shuts behind him, Aubrey turns to round on Steph and Mitch. “What the fuck?”

“Me, what the fuck?” Steph, her best friend since grade school, knows exactly what she’s talking about. “You, what the fuck?”

“This was a setup?”

“You didn’t know?” Mitch cries, turning immediately to his girlfriend and looking incredibly offended.

“Yes she did!” Steph defends. “I literally texted you: Mitch has a single friend we think you’d get along with if you’re interested. Are you free friday for dinner? We were thinking of having you all over. And you said: sounds good I’ll be there.”

“Well, in my defense, work was a dumpster fire this week and I really only skim-read that text.”

“Well now I know why you showed up like that.” 

“Rude, Stephanie.” Aubrey sticks her tongue out at her best friend, grinning immediately afterwards, because Steph’s her best friend and she’s the only one she would let talk to her this way. “Just for that I’m not using a glass the entire night.”

“Not like your first impression could get any worse.” Steph deadpans.

“Meh.” Mitch shrugs. “It’s Willy. He’s done way worse.”

Steph sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose, and then looks over. “Could you use your one free hand then to take a second bottle of wine out then please? For the rest of us who’d like some, to share?”

Aubrey grins. “Gladly.”

That this was meant to be a setup couldn’t be more clear to her as the three of them make their way out to the porch with more drinks and some snacks. Mitch and Steph have dragged some of their comfier patio furniture around the firepit; there’s a couple curled into each other on one of the couches, an empty one with Mitch’s favorite type of beer on the table next to it, and one seat open on the couch that’s occupied by Will. 

Aubrey shoots Steph a look as Steph practically leaps back onto the empty couch, and then she slips herself into the empty seat next to Will. That level of distinct lack of chill is really her thing, thanks Steph.

Steph merely grins back, formally introducing her to everyone around them. And okay, their friends are cool- like Aubrey knows they are; she’s met more than a few of Mitch’s hockey friends before. She’s many-a-time fifth-wheeled dinner with Mitch and Steph and Matt and Syd. She, Mitch, and Steph still had a group chat going with a bunch of Mitch’s old teammates from the Knights. Hell, Strome and McDavid had joined Mitch in playing with her and Steph on their families’ summer softball team last summer.

But she just can’t seem to understand what they see in Will that they think he’d be good for her. Like sure he’s nice enough, and obviously good looking, and like, yeah she has a good time while she’s there, but like, sparks? Nothing. 

Regardless of the lack of sparks between them, it is a fun night, and she curls up in one of the guest rooms in Steph and Mitch’s that night, fully planning on laughing at them the next morning. 

Except, the next morning, Mitch is already gone for practice and Steph’s first question is, “So when are you going to see Will again?”

Aubrey frowns. “Uhh I don’t know. Probably whenever you have us both over for dinner again?”

Steph frowns back. “What?”

“What what?”

“You didn’t, like, give him your number? Make plans? Anything?”

“Why would we?”

“Because he’s perfect for you?”

Aubrey gives her a look. Was Steph even at the same dinner that she was? They, like, barely interacted; Will chatting more with Auston and what’s-her-name or Mitch and Auston, and her with Steph pretty much the entire night. “Perfect for me? Seriously? That’s the guy you think is perfect for me?”

She huffs. If Aubrey didn’t know her best friend better she’d think she was offended, but, well, she does. “Yes!”

“No!”

“I mean, at least give it a shot!” Steph needles.

Aubrey pulls a face. “Why? So we can break up and make things super awkward at anything you and Mitch throw for the rest of your lives? No thanks.”

“I’m telling you.” Steph says. “Perfect match.” But she drops it after that, suggesting brunch, an offer that Aubrey immediately agrees to.

-----

It’s a quick stop for Aubrey to pop home to change and pick up her roommate, Erin, before the three girls head over to what’s long been a favorite brunch spot, laughing as Aubrey and Erin watch Steph fire off a series of snapchats to Mitch featuring her bottomless mimosas- her favorite way of asking to be picked up on his way home from practice.

Erin laughs so hard she almost snorts mimosa out her nose as Aubrey and Steph recap dinner from the previous night, but once she recovers, she hits Steph with a look. “I am begging you to invite me to this next time, solely so I can watch the two of them interact.”

Aubrey gasps as Steph laughs. “Rude!”

Erin giggles, beginning to recount the date she’d gone on last night-her fourth with this guy from the gym she belongs to-and Aubrey finds herself nodding along with Steph in all the right places, as friends should, happy that Erin’s happy, especially after her shitty last boyfriend, and eager to meet this guy for more than the five minutes he’d shown up at their door. 

Her story is interrupted-for Aubrey, at least-by the vibration of her phone, and she checks the text from an unfamiliar number, rolling her eyes when she sees the message.

hey this is will, followed by an amount of emojis that could only actually be from Mitch. 

hi mitch. She sends back.

lol. Comes the response. sorry.

you don’t have to apologize for mitch. i’m familiar

Will reacts to that with a haha and then it’s a while before she checks her phone again, enjoying brunch with her girls and laughing at the look on Mitch’s face as he comes to pick Steph up and realizes he’ll be driving her and Erin back as well.

he’s really found his place between annoying and relentless. Will’s texted, when she checks again a little later, at home on the couch and pleasantly tipsy, deciding what to Netflix with Erin.

that’s his sweet spot. Aubrey sends, and then points halfheartedly at The Office on the screen, well on her way to a post-brunch nap.

-----

Aubrey knows Mitch and Steph well enough to know that’s not the end of it, and sure enough, the subtle (and not so subtle) hints keep coming. But luckily, training camp is about to begin, and so even if they do keep coming, Mitch, and by extension, Will, are both too busy for Mitch and Steph to push anything too crazy on her and Will.

Until suddenly the season begins, and even though things are still crazy for them, suddenly they’ve got days off or afternoons free and she finds that the subtleness of the hints becomes gradually less subtle.

jesus fuck. Will sends one afternoon and she laughs at it immediately, even as he continues typing. tell steph i’m sorry but mitch had to go.

She laughs loudly, which earns her a look from her nearest coworkers. right there with you.

considering just lying and telling him i already took you out last week to just get him off my back jfc. 

tried that already. knew i was lying right away. Aubrey sends back. She appreciates him trying, but come on. That was like, the first thing she tried.

well, Will sends, and then those annoying three dots appear and disappear about four times, before he finally finishes. let’s just go somewhere then and get them off our backs.

time and fucking place. She replies.

-----

Aubrey meets Will at a bar that’s close to her work, a couple days after that text exchange, just in time for the end of happy hour. He’s got a drink in front of him already, that he quickly finishes when the waiter comes to take her order, so he can order another one while she orders one of her favorite cocktails, before it becomes full price again at the start of the next hour.

“You know, I thought Mitchy would have been more…” Will trails off, looking thoughtful, but then continues after a moment. “Smug, when I told him we were going out tonight. What’d Steph say?”

“Oh don’t get me wrong. They’ll be smug to each other.” Aubrey tells him, confident that the two of them are at home right now boasting about the fact that they were right. “But if they think we’re actually on the same page now and they say anything that I hear, that would be the end. Downward tailspin, cut my hair six inches, new tattoo, you name it.” 

Will laughs. “So it’s like that?”

She nods. “A little lacking in some impulse control.” She holds her thumb and index finger up to him, with about 10cm of space between them, to show him just how poor it is, and Will laughs again. 

“Guess I’ll just have to wait for a nice, big I told you so tomorrow.” He says.

Aubrey snickers. “One a day for the next few weeks more like.”

Will shrugs. “Meh, I’ll figure something out to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“We should.” Aubrey nods absentmindedly, as a comment she’d made to Steph right after the initial dinner comes back to her. 

“Should what?” Will frowns. 

“Give them a taste of their own medicine.”

“Where are you going with this?” Will asks curiously.

Aubrey grins, as the idea starts to form. “A tragic break up to make things so awkward for the two of them that they’ll regret setting us up in the first place.”

Will pauses for a long moment, but then he grins and leans toward her. “I’m listening.”

-----

Steph is bouncing when Aubrey walks into their weekly Thursday barre class. She’s sure she knows why, but Aubrey gives her a strange look anyway when she slides in next to her. “What?”

“What?” Steph repeats. “Seriously?”

Aubrey laughs. “Use your words, Stephanie.”

“Bitch, you know what I want.” Steph says, which makes the woman in front of them turn and give them a scandalized look.

Aubrey giggles. She’d really just wanted to annoy Steph a little but that was totally worth it all. “Yeah I know. It was good. Like whatever.”

“I hate you so much.”

“I’m going to see him again!”Aubrey protests. “What more do you want from me? I’m not going to like, profess my undying love for him after one date. I’m not Mitch.”

“It was like, our fifth date, and he didn’t profess his undying love for me! He just said he loved me!” Steph huffs as Aubrey snickers. She laughs about it now, they all do, a thing she teases both of her friends about, but she vividly remembers the panic Steph had been in coming home from that date. 

“Well.” She says, grinning. “I guess I’ve got four dates to go then. Or maybe Will does.”

“Will’s too chill to do anything like that.” Steph decides, just as their usual instructor enters. “Ridiculous shit is definitely more your move.”

Aub thinks back to her date with Will the other night, where they’d carefully crafted an entire narrative to start this fake relationship, and fights back a grin, because she’s pretty sure Will can be just as ridiculous. He just does a better job at hiding it. 

-----

Just after noon one day, a few weeks into her arrangement with Will, Aubrey’s phone buzzes and she more than welcomes the interruption from the current project she’s working on.

need a favor. Will’s sent, followed immediately by, please.

sure, what’s up?

His name pops up on her screen next and Aubrey frowns, swiping to accept the call. “Hey.”

“I’m downstairs.” Will says and she frowns, both at the skipped greeting, and at his words.

“Of my office?” She blurts.

“Yeah.” Will says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world, and Aubrey pushes her chair back abruptly.

“Uh ok. I’ll be right down.” She’s already pushing the button for the elevator, waving off the coworker calling after her, asking if everything’s okay. 

Will’s waiting outside, with two cups of coffee in hand, and even though he’d said that he was, Aubrey’s still kind of surprised to see him. He passes her one of the cups in his hand and she takes it, thanking him as she does. “So what’s up?”

“I need a favor.” Will says, starting to walk, and Aubrey follows easily, sipping on the latte he’d brought her. 

She laughs. “You said. What do you need?”

“The team’s got this thing on Friday.” Aubrey gives him a look, because she knows what the thing the team has on Friday is, Steph’s been talking about it for a few weeks now, and it is not as casual as Will is throwing it out to her right now. “And I think I need you to come with me.”

“Do you though?” Aubrey says. “Do you really?”

“I tried for you not to.” Will admits, shooting her a grin, which she appreciates. “But, well, it’s a thing I would have brought any other girlfriend to and then Mitchy opened his mouth too…” He trails off.

“So find a dress.” Aubrey sums up.

Will nods. “Please. I’ll pay for it.” He adds, but she brushes it off. 

“If we’re still stuck in this for Blue and White, you can buy me a dress then.” She grins, and Will returns the grin.

“Deal.” 

-----

Fixing her curls one last time in the mirror by the door, Aubrey grabs her clutch and runs downstairs to meet her Uber. She’s late, not like super late, but more so than she’d  hoped to be, even after texting Will that she was running behind with work and that she’d have to meet him at the venue probably, if he didn’t want to be late.

She shoots off a text to him when she gets in the car, letting him know she’s on her way, and makes polite chatter for a few minutes with her driver, leg bouncing anxiously until he pulls up to where she needs to be.

Will’s standing outside the door when she pulls up, like he’s waiting for her as if this was an actual date, looking at something on his phone in the meantime, which gives Aubrey a minute to take a peek at his suit. He looks good; she might not have any desire to actually date Will, but she can absolutely admit to both herself and anyone (including Steph) that he’s probably the most objectively attractive human she’s ever met, and the suit only ramps that up. It’s custom made, perfectly fitted, a navy blue that brings out his eyes, and maybe a little more casual than some others she’s seen but in a good way. 

His choice in suits makes her feel better about what she’s wearing. Aubrey’d been trying to work off what Steph was wearing, while making sure that what she'd picked out wasn’t overly fancy for the evening or too similar to what Steph had already chosen, ending up in a knee length dress with a sheer high neckline. 

“Hey!” She smiles, catching his attention, mildly disappointed that he doesn’t even flinch in surprise, only looks up as smooth as can be and returns her smile.

“Hey.” He slips his phone in his pocket, reaching out for her hand.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Aubrey says immediately, that terrible feeling of letting anyone down instantly relieved when Will waves her off. 

“You haven’t even missed the entire cocktail hour.” He says and she feels her eyes widen as he nods solemnly. “Yeah, it’s like that.”

“Our first stop better be to get me a glass of wine.”

Will laughs, pressing the button for the elevator. “Wouldn’t dream of it being anywhere else.”

Will refreshes his own drink as well, and selects a red wine for her after Aub hems and haws over the options for a minute, a choice that she almost can’t bring herself to take a sip of once the glass is in her hand, for fear that she’ll never be able to drink another Malbec again, guessing this one is well out of her price range based on name and bottle appearance alone. (She takes a sip anyway, it’s as delicious as she’d expected).

Will’s smiling, as if waiting for her reaction, like there’s not a wine she doesn’t like (well, chardonnay, but like, even that she’ll drink if it’s all that available). “Should we do this?” Aubrey asks him, ready to watch him be roasted by teammates for the evening, and he nods, hand moving to the small of her back, leading her deep into the crowd.

But for all the shit he claims to have taken recently about her, they must be on their best behavior, out in public. Everyone he introduces her to is nothing but friendly; the few people she’s met before this event greet her with smiles and open arms, welcoming her into the fold. 

“Are you sure these are the same teammates you warned me about?” She asks Will, when they have a minute to themselves, just finishing up a long and very nice conversation with Justin Holl, Jake Muzzin and their wives, and thinking of the series of texts he’d sent her this morning about “all these assholes.”

“They’re being nice, just for you.” He insists. His arm is still at her waist; it’s barely left there all night. 

“Ugh, so I grew up with seven siblings and I’m not even going to be able to use the skills I got from that to throw down?” She jokes. “What was the point?”

Will actually stops walking for a second, drawing her into him quickly when she stumbles, not expecting the abrupt stop in walking. “You have seven siblings?”

Aubrey nods, wondering if she should bother getting into her family dynamics right now, and settles for a short version. “On my mom’s side, yeah. My parents divorced when I was a baby, and they both remarried. My brother and I have more siblings from both of them; it’s just like a whole thing with my dad.” She winces.

Will’s grinning again, though, like he didn’t even catch it, and he points to himself. “One of six.”

“Oh my god!” She blurts out excitedly, before she can help herself. There’s not many people she knows with sibling counts even close to hers, step and half siblings including, let alone a family like Will’s. “See, you get it!”

“Get what?” She hadn’t even realized that Mitch and Steph had approached them, until Mitch pokes in nosily.

“That younger siblings are actual monsters.” 

“You talk to your sisters everyday!” Mitch frowns, because he doesn’t get it; he never has.

“Yeah, your point?” Aubrey gives him a look as the others laugh around them. “That’s literally what having younger siblings is, and you just don’t know it because you are one.”

“Shots fired.” Steph nudges him.

“You’re the younger sibling too!” he nudges her back.

“Mmm, traditionally, Aub and I count all our siblings together, soo.” She trails off, laughing at the look on Mitch’s face.

Aubrey’s nodding; their families had grown up so close that it wasn’t uncommon to see Steph and her sister hanging around with Aubrey and her brothers, from the time they were children, all the way until today. “That’s why when Cam starts driving me crazy when she’s here next weekend, I’m just dropping her at your place. Basically the same thing.”

“Ohh, so she’s definitely coming?” Steph asks, eyes wide.

Aubrey nods. “Confirmed it with my mom today, I’m going to meet her halfway.” She pauses for the briefest of seconds. “Want to come?”

“Yes! Coffee on the way?”

“Obviously!”

“Yeah, Will and I are definitely going to sit this one out.” Mitch nods firmly.

“You weren’t actually invited, but okay.” Steph pats his shoulder mock-comfortingly. “But we should all do dinner when we get back!”

It takes everything in Aubrey not to show the internal panic on her face. She’s insanely close with her sisters, despite the age gap- she’s close with all her siblings, the brothers that she’d grown up probably terrorizing their parents together and the younger ones that terrorize them all now. It was probably unrealistic to think she could make it through “dating” Will without him meeting any of them, especially knowing how close Steph is with them too. “Yeah, that would be fun.”

She feels Will squeeze her side gently, almost comfortingly, but before they can get much further with this conversation, someone’s coming around and asking them to find their seats for dinner, so they split off to their tables, with promises to make plans for the following Friday over the next few days.

-----

Will’s quiet on the drive home after dinner, in his very expensive car, which is fine because Aubrey spends that time marveling over it. Like, she knew he was boujie, but, wow. 

“Is your sister staying all next weekend?” Will asks, abruptly interrupting Aubrey’s caress of the soft leather of the seat beneath her legs.

“Hm? Oh yeah.” She nods. “Cam’s been a super pain since Kayls started high school this year since she’s still back in junior high, but worse since Kayls just got invited to her first high school party and it’s next weekend.” She sees Will’s wince out of the corner of her eye and laughs. “Oh my god, you don’t even know the half of it! When I texted Cam to invite her up next weekend, she was like why would I want to come hang out with a bunch of old people like you anyway?” 

Will’s laughing and Aubrey’s jaw drops until he shares, “When I was home last summer, my youngest sister made me drop her off at a friend’s house three doors away because I wasn’t cool enough to be seen with.”

She actually laughs at that- if Will, an actual professional hockey player, isn’t cool enough to be seen with, then who is?- but the attitude is so familiar.  “They’re super close, Kayls and Cam, and like I kinda get why Cam’s being super annoying about a lot of shit. Like, I know she feels like she’s being left behind. But god, does she have to take it out on the rest of us?” She shakes her head, clearing both the thoughts and a piece of hair out of her face. “It’s just the age, my mom and I talk about it all the time. They’ll be nice again in a few years.”

Will glances over at her briefly with a look of panic on his face, before flicking his eyes back to the road. “That’s not really a comforting statement. As someone with three younger sisters,” He clarifies. “Not someone meeting yours this weekend.” Aubrey giggles. “But actually, I was wondering what your plans were with her on Saturday night? If you wanted tickets to the game for you guys?”

“Oh!” Aubrey blinks in surprise. “That would...that would actually be really nice. She’d like that.”

“Yeah?” She can hear the smile in Will’s voice.

“Well, she’d like the flex on all her friends on Monday.” Aub admits, knowing that her sister could probably care less about actually seeing a Leafs game. “And on the boys, they’d be super jealous.” At his glance, she clarifies. “Cam’s a triplet.”

He mutters something under his breath and she giggles again; she’s pretty sure that was Swedish and she can guess what it was. “But they’re not coming?”

“Not this weekend.” She confirms. She is definitely not hosting all three of Cam, Tyler, and Danny for the entire weekend. No way, no how. “But once they find out you’re offering tickets? I’m sure my phone will be ringing.”

“You know where to find me.” Will shrugs, pulling up in front of her building. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

Aubrey grins at him. “Fooled Steph and Mitch no problems.”

It feels like it takes a second for the comment to register with Will, but when it does, he returns the grin. “Yeah, no problems.”

-----

Steph waits until they are well on the road to meet her mom and both sisters (because in a surprise twist that everyone saw coming, a high schooler got grounded and a party was cancelled) sitting in stop and go traffic, before bringing up what Aubrey knows she’s been dying to ask. “So how’s Will?”

“Fine?” She responds, before she remembers that she’s supposed to know these things and hastens to finish. “It’s been a busy week with like, work and this shit, but like, he’s good.”

Steph makes a noise, like she’s unsatisfied with that answer and Aubrey gives her a look after she’s braked with the masses, waiting for it to pick up again. “But, like, how are the two of you?”

Ah. Ok. So that’s what this is about. “We’re good.” She assures Steph, absolutely certain her best friend is going to see right through her. “Just like, figuring shit out, you know? It’s still new.”

Steph’s nodding. “I mean, it wouldn’t be if you’d just gone out when Mitch and I first brought you to dinner…”

“Stephanie.” Aubrey says warningly, picking up speed, probably with too much hope that the traffic has cleared.

“Fine!” Steph laughs. “I know, I can’t say I told you so to you or you’re going to panic and break up with him and probably dye your hair and get bangs or something, but like. I’m super happy for you guys. You were so cute last week.”

“What?” Aub says blankly, because she really doesn’t have much else to say, but it doesn’t seem to matter, because Steph’s on a roll now.

“Like, Will couldn’t take his eyes off you the entire night.” She continues. “It was super cute; he kept, like reaching for you, you kept finding him.” She taps Aubrey’s leg excitedly. “Ok, I know I said I wouldn’t, but I’m too fucking excited and I knew you’d be perfect for each other, I knew it.”

“Oh, look! There’s a tattoo place right at the next light.” Aub says loudly, even though she has no intention of getting a tattoo right now- all four of her tattoos were impulsive decisions and the three threats she’s made since she’s gotten in the car feel like far too much thought, not to mention the time crunch they’re on to get back for dinner-but it does serve as the threat she intends. Steph clearly has no desire to try and talk her out of getting one today and switches the topic to something she just saw on the Insta of one of their friends, which lasts them until they pull into the parking lot that’s serving as the meeting point.

“Aub!” For all that Cameron pretends she’s too cool for everything, just like every 14 year old Aubrey can remember, she throws herself at Aubrey the second that Aub and Steph get out of the car. 

Aub squeezes her back, wondering when she got so tall. “Hey Cammie.” Cam swats at her as she pulls back. She hates that nickname, the one that Aub and her three older brothers have called her basically her entire life, but they’ve never stopped, no matter how much their youngest sibling had begged. “Where’s Kayls?”

“Here!” Kaylee huffs from next to their mom, who’s chatting with Steph, has been since she hugged her the minute she got out of the car. 

Aubrey’s eyes narrow, taking in the sibling who looks most like her. “Is that my sweater?”

“No.” Kaylee says too quickly to be true. “Are we ready? We have dinner plans, right?”

“Meeting Aubrey's new boyyyyfriend.” Cam sings, and Aubrey shoves her hand in her sister's face. 

“Not if you’re going to act like that, we don’t.”

“Girls.” Their mom pauses, mid-reach for Aubrey, to give her youngest two daughters a full-on mom look. “Be nice.”

Aubrey laughs at the looks on their faces, before clutching at her mom. “Hi momma. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Her mom squeezes. “Thanks for this gift.” She whispers and winks because Aub knows that her mom loves all eight of them dearly, but these two in particular are driving her nuts right now. “See you Sunday, at Luke’s.”

“Bye, I’m sure I’ll call you ten times before tomorrow!” Aubrey waves at her mom as she gets in her car, sliding back into the driver’s seat of her own, where Steph, Kaylee, and Cam are chattering to each other as they buckle their seatbelts. 

It’s just as she’s pulling back onto the road that Kayls gasps. “Aub, I think I forgot to pack toothpaste.”

“Ohh, me too!” Cam realizes.

Aubrey exchanges a look with Steph quickly. It’s not looking promising that she won’t be making a call to her mom, to talk her off the ledge.

-----

“What do you mean, you didn’t bring pants?” Aubrey rubs her temples as she stares at her sister.

Kaylee shrugs. “I forgot to pack them.”

“I forgot shirts.” Cam calls from the bathroom, where she’d just showered. “Can I borrow one?”

“Did you bring anything?” Aubrey asks wearily. “Toothbrush? Underwear?”

“Of course I brought underwear.” Kaylee huffs, sounding legit offended, like she didn’t forget to pack pants on a weekend trip away.

“Well excuse me for thinking you might not have, since you didn’t bring anything else!”

Her phone buzzes on the nightstand again; it’s got to be the third or fourth time, but she’s honestly been so caught up in her sisters that she hasn’t had time to check. “Just, like, grab whatever from the closet. We’re already late.”

Sure enough, it’s Will texting, letting her know he’s downstairs. be down in a few, She responds, not bothering to go into the whole pants story. “Girls! Three minutes!” She grins at their shrieks, packing a couple things into her purse and laughing to herself as she listens to them get ready. “Kayls! Cam!”

“We’re ready!” They rush out together, Kayls dressed in a pair of her favorite jeans and Cam in one of her favorite sweaters-how they always manage to find her favorites is ridiculous-but they don’t have time for her to make them change. 

“Ugh.” Aubrey just says instead, ushering them out and locking it behind her. “Come on, Will’s been waiting.”

“Will’s here?”

“Yes?” She frowns at the two of them. “Where else would he be?” But Kaylee and Cam are already giggling to each other, enough for her to roll her eyes to herself as she leads them out to Will’s car, knowing it’s definitely too much to expect them to just be cool.

“Hey.” Will greets, as she slips into the passenger seat.

“Hi.” She returns, smiling at him.

“Uh, hi?” Cam says impatiently from the backseat. Will laughs, but Aub gives her a look.

“It’s been literally two seconds. Could you, like, chill?”

“Nope!”

Aub side-eyes her again, but turns back to Will. “These are my sisters, Cam and Kaylee.” They greet him eagerly, a sentiment he returns, and then spends the entire car ride to the restaurant where they’re meeting Steph and Mitch at answering every question they ask with absurd patience. 

“Oh, I smell garlic.” Kaylee says, once Will has dropped his car off with valet. 

“It smells delicious.” Aub corrects, because it’s definitely heavy on the garlic, but it smells heavenly. 

Will smiles over at both of them, though Aub’s not sure if he means it more for Kaylee or her. “This is one of my favorite restaurants.”

“Really?” She blurts out, before she can stop herself, and he nods, reaching for her hand. 

“Great food.” He confirms. “Come on; Mitch and Steph are already here.”

That certainly serves to get her sisters moving-all her younger siblings have stopped being impressed by Mitch but they still love seeing him just as much as they love seeing Steph- and they push their way into through the doors quickly enough that Aubrey rushes to catch up to them, not trusting them alone, and tugging Will along with her.

Cam and Kaylee have already found Mitch and Steph, already chatting away with the two of them, like they didn’t just see Steph two hours ago in the car, and Aubrey and Will slip into the last two seats at the table. 

“You good?” Will nudges her as they sit. 

Aubrey nods. “Yeah. Pretty good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pretty good.”

“Well, Frick and Frack may legitimately drive me crazy this weekend but.” She shrugs. “We’ll see.”

“What happened to dropping them off with Steph if they drove you too crazy?”

She laughs. “God, if only, Will. If only.”

“Will!” Kaylee interrupts, looking up briefly from her menu. “What’s good here?”

“Will! What’s this mean?” Cam adds and Aubrey takes a deep breath, even as Will looks like it’s his absolute pleasure to walk them through the names of some of the different dishes on the menu. 

“Wine, please.” Aubrey requests from the waiter, the second he arrives at the table. “Literally, anything you’ve got.”

But Will waves that off, ordering a bottle of red for the table, in perfect French. “Show off.” She grumbles at him quietly and he grins at her from over the top of Cam’s menu, before he goes back to helping her out.

From her other side, Steph’s hiding her own smile, or rather, doing a very poor job at hiding one. “What?” Aubrey presses.

“Nothing.” Steph says. “Just happy to be having dinner all together.”

“Well that’s bullshit.” Aubrey calls her out, at the very blatant lie; Mitch snorts into his hand to cover his laugh. “But always happy to be having dinner with you too.”

Steph beams, clinking her wine glass with Aubrey’s the second the waiter fills them both. “Again, tomorrow, pregame?”

Aub looks over at her sisters, who have moved away from asking Will menu questions and are, instead, asking him questions about the bun in his hair. “Assuming you aren’t bailing me out of jail instead? Sure.”

-----

Aubrey Dupont: we’re going to do apps with steph pregame but want to say thanks again for tix tonight! want to do dinner again with us after if you’re free? 

Will Nylander: i’m free dinner sounds good 😁 it’ll be late though once I get out

Aubrey Dupont: that’s fine! Id say breakfast but we’ve got to leave pretty early tomorrow to get to my brothers to knock a wall down!

Will Nylander: ….holy shit cam was serious

Aubrey Dupont: 😂😂lollll yeah they’re opening up the dining room and living room! We’re all going out to take the wall down, we’re supposed to meet Steph and Mitch and then head out

Will Nylander: lol does mitch know? he booked us a tee time Sunday 

Aubrey Dupont: stfu he did not😂 lol he probably just doesn’t want to get iced that early

Will Nylander: haha what??

Aubrey Dupont: hahaha the first time steph brought him home to meet our families, it was my parents Christmas Eve party, my brothers iced him like three times in the first hour. He was so trashed he couldn’t even walk back next door to Steph’s house. 

It’s just like a thing we do, all our siblings and he was not prepared for it at all 😂

Will Nylander: sooo if I left one in his locker this week, how much trouble would you be in?

Aubrey Dupont: lol a lot but it’d be worth it, you should 100% do that

Mitch Marner: we’re knocking down a wall tomorrow wtf why didn’t you tell me? I’ll brave a Smirnoff to knock down a fucking wall. What time are you and Will picking us up?

Will Nylander: i fucked up, sorry

-----

“That’s really cute!” Zach Hyman’s wife smiles as she hands Kaylee her phone back. 

“Thank you.” Aubrey mouths to her, as Cam and Kayls flock to the phone to check out the pictures she’s taken of them, and Alannah smiles at her knowingly. Aub’s sure she’s got sisters of her own. 

“I’ll see you soon.” Alannah promises. “We should do dinner soon, the three of us, next time the boys are out of town.” And then she’s pushing her way toward Zach before Aub can respond to anything.

“Not a word.” Aubrey says warningly to her sisters, as Steph snickers, thinking of how picky the two of them are about pictures almost always.

“These are actually really cute though.” Cam says, like she even means it.

“Yeah, she did good.” Kayls adds, sliding her phone back into her purse.

“So happy they meet your standards.” Steph says dryly.

“They are the ones to meet.” Kayls flips her hair and it’s all Aubrey can do to fight back a laugh. She honest to god forgets how funny they are sometimes, when they’re driving her as crazy as they are now. 

“You’re too much.” Aubrey tells her and Kaylee grins, looping her arms around Aub’s shoulders and squeezing tightly. “Okay, now you’re really too much. You’re suffocating me; get off! Look,” She nudges Kaylee away, noticing quickly that Mitch has appeared recently- without Will, but with Auston-and tries to draw her attention there instead. “Mitch is here, bother him instead.”

Kaylee peers over. “Honestly, who even cares about Mitch? I’d rather bother Will instead.”

Mitch’s jaw drops as Steph and Auston laugh, but Aubrey feels the tension immediately in her shoulders. “Jesus Christ, could you just say thank you to Will so he doesn’t think you’re a literal monster like the rest of the world does?”

“Thanks, Will!” Kaylee and Cam chorus, and she glares at them right up until she feels a presence at her side and realizes he’s actually right there. 

“It was great to have you guys here this weekend.” Will smiles at them, sounding absolutely sincere, not a hint of sarcasm. 

“We had so much fun.” Kayls is already gushing before Aub can even turn her death glare to her. 

“What’d you guys do today?” Will asks her and again, it’s the sincerity that gets Aub, like he actually cares to listen to her sisters tell him about the brunch place that she and Steph took them to this morning, the stores they hit afterwards, a few of their favorite spots, before they had to go home and get ready for the game. 

He’s sweet and attentive, asking all the questions that he should and nodding in all the right places. “You guys still want dinner?” He asks, probably as soon as he can find a time to interrupt. He’s got to be absolutely starving after that game.

“Yes.” Aubrey answers for them all; she doesn’t really care what her sisters actually have to say on the matter. If Will’s hungry, they’ll eat right now whether they want to or not.

“Can we go back to that bakery we went to earlier, first?” Cam asks, and Aubrey straight up glares at her, but before she can even say no, Cam’s already whining to her. “Oh my, god, seriously? Stop, Aubrey!”

“Ryan, like, swears you’re fun; I just don’t see it.” Kaylee adds, about their brother, the one just younger than Aub.

And like, Aubrey knows they’re just trying to get under her skin, but like, Jesus Christ. “That’s because Ryan’s an actual adult and whenever you two come up here I have to be your literal mom, because you forget to bring toothbrushes and pants and use manners!”

“Take like four deep breaths.” Will says, in that chill way he is about basically everything, and immediately Aubrey feels her glare swing over toward him. That’s basically being told to calm down and there’s literally nothing fucking worse than that, doesn’t he know that?

Probably not. He’s probably never been told to calm down in his life. Jesus, what was it again that made Steph think he was perfect for her?

Mitch, probably recognizing that Aubrey’s about to lose it, pulls Cam into his side for a one-armed hug, mentioning that he’s starving, which at least cues Kaylee into the fact that Will might be too. “Yeah, dinner does actually sound good.” Her eyes flicker over to Will first, before landing on Aubrey, and only when Aub sees the flicker of remorse in them does she actually take that breath that Will had mentioned. 

“What time are we meeting in the morning?’ Steph asks, and Aub knows she’s looking to smooth over any potential blow up.

“9:22.” She deadpans, laughing at Mitch’s face.

“It’s supposed to be a nice day!” He protests. “I wouldn’t have made a tee time if you two had told me we were knocking down a wall! I had to hear it from Willy! What’s this shit?”

“Kicked out of the group chat again.” Aub shrugs, even though she knows well and truly that he hasn’t been- and won’t be again until sometime early spring, when someone does it symbolically for a day as they do every year.

“I’ll kick you out of the group chat.” Mitch says childishly, as Steph tries to collect him, Auston already ready to leave, and promising Aub that they’ll make plans later that night about the next morning.

“Will, where do you want to take us tonight for food?” Kayls asks, as they part ways in the lot.

Will looks a little startled. “Oh! Uh, what-where do you guys want to go?”

“We want to go where you like to eat.” Cam says. “We’ll eat anything.”

Will looks at her for confirmation and Aubrey nods; none of them are picky eaters. “Sushi?” He suggests and both girls nod excitedly, racing off towards Will’s car. “See?” He nudges her as they walk to catch up. “They’re fine.”

She glares up at him; he bumps her again and then again, repeatedly until she smiles. “They’re not awful.” She agrees, especially now that they’ve reminded her just how nice they can really be, at times.

Will’s grinning, matching her own smile. “I know you love them.”

“Don’t call me out like that, William.” He mimes zipping his lips and she laughs. “Ugh, you dork. Let’s go eat.”

-----

Kayls and Cam are in peak hurricane form, only barely dressed and nowhere near packed and ready to go, when Will texts to announce that he’s arrived to pick them up in the morning, so Aub just responds with her apartment number and tells him to come up.

He arrives at her door a minute or two later, with a guest in tow. “Mitchy invited him.” Will explains sheepishly, as he and Auston make themselves at home at the breakfast bar in her kitchen.

“Sorry to just, like, crash.” Auston adds.

Aubrey blinks at them. She feels like Will, of all people, should know better. “There’s legit eight of us; we adopt strays all the time.” He cracks up at that; they both do actually, and she smiles, just as Kayls shouts something about Cam stealing her leggings, from where they’re still in her room gathering her stuff.

“They’re not even yours!” Cam shouts. “Aubrey, tell her I got them first.”

“Well I was planning on wearing them!”

“Well you didn’t say that!”

“It’s just like being at home.” Auston says, smiling fondly enough that Aub laughs. “Make sure you check the straightener before you leave or they’ll fight about who forgot to turn it off in the car.” And then she straight up cackles; that’s a fight she knows well.

Auston and Will are both laughing as well, even as she hears her sisters shout for her. She ignores it, running her hands over her temples and turns towards the cabinet. “Coffee?” She asks them, and they both laugh as a muffled shout can be heard.

“Please.” Will says and Auston agrees so she pours mugs for them both, making idle chit chat, interrupted occasionally as they wait for her sisters to finally appear and be ready to leave. 

They do, eventually, far later than Aubrey would have liked, and late enough that she’s grinding her teeth about it, loud enough that Will nudges her gently when she passes him to get her coat. He’s right though, it’s not like they’re in a rush to get out to her brother's house, but she’s anxious enough by that point to get moving that she doesn’t even realize what Kayls has taken from her closet to wear until they’re all climbing into Will’s backseat. “Oh my god, what are you wearing?”

“They’re literally yours!” Kayls snaps back and that’s not a lie, but it’s not what Aub’s got issue with either. It’s the absurdly clashing patterns in her leggings and oversized long-sleeve.

“I never wear them together.”

“That’s because your fashion sense is basic a-f.” Kayls pronounces each letter individually and Aub knows, she knows that Will and Auston are laughing at the look of disbelief on her face, even if she can’t see them. “You should take some tips from Will; his is on point.”

“Thanks, Kayls!” Will beams at her through the rearview mirror.

Aubrey ignores him. “Will’s homeless, that’s why he dresses like that.” She deadpans, which he protests immediately even as Auston cracks up.

“You’re not homeless.” Cam says to her, and it’s the fake innocent thing that does it for Aub. “Will could live with you.”

Aub pulls a face even as Auston just laughs even harder and Cam stares at her like she’s waiting for an actual answer. “Walked right into that one.” She mutters to herself, as Will meets her eyes in the mirror. He’s fighting back a grin; she can see the laughter in his eyes. “Will, coffee at the next Tim’s, please?” She’s going to need one to get through this.

Will’s full on grinning now, but he pulls off at the next exit in search of coffee and hands over his credit card before she can even object. The rest of the ride to her brother’s house feels like it passes in a flash, Kayls and Cam tumbling out of the car to greet Luke practically before Will’s even put it in park. 

The only thing that stops Aubrey from having a complete heart attack is the immediate sense of calm she feels from no longer calling herself in charge. Luke’s here; he can deal with this shit now.

She feels Will laughing at her as they exit the car. “I thought you’d be more nervous.” He says, as they walk toward her brother, side by side, with Auston.

She snickers. “For what?” And then leans herself into Luke for a hug. “Hi!”

“Jesus, what’d you give them before you brought them here?” Luke returns the hug. 

“Literally anything that would shut them up.” She says, dead serious, and then introduces Will, and Auston, almost as an afterthought. 

Luke is friendly and welcoming, like she knew he would be. They’ve never had the overprotective sibling relationship she hears about from people. They’re too close in age, only a year apart in school; or too close in general, sharing too much as they grew up shuffled to their dad and stepmom’s every other weekend for their court-mandated time. She’s never doubted that he has her back, but he lets her live her life, no matter how stupid the decisions she might make (though he’s certainly not shy about telling her when he thinks she making one).

“Fitz and Steph and Mitch here yet?” She wonders, as they walk inside, the chatter between her sisters and sister-in-law already evident.

“Running late.” Luke says. “But Ryan’s upstairs sleeping. He stayed last night.”

She grins at him, contemplating running up to wake him, but in the end decides against it, settling for following the sound of her sisters’ voices into the kitchen. Rachel’s standing at the counter, setting out snacks and listening patiently as Kayls and Cam detail their entire weekend to her.

“-Will got us tickets for Saturday’s game-”

“-we ate at this amazing sushi place-”

“Rach!” Aubrey interrupts, tugging her sister-in-law away from Kayls and Cam, who are talking over each other. “Come meet Will.”

Rachel sends her a grateful look and immediately turns her bright smile at Will and Auston, introducing herself to them both and offering them drinks. By the time that she, Luke, and Aub finish getting drinks for everyone, Ryan’s coming downstairs, rubbing a hand over his face sleepily, and the introductions begin all over again.

Then Aubrey and Steph’s parents come in with her two youngest brothers, which cues another round of that, and then finally, Steph, Mitch, and Fitz roll in, which has Aubrey cackling when Auston leans over and whispers. “You didn’t tell us your brother is Little Fred?”

“What the fuck are you on?” She frowns at him, but Will’s got the same look on his face.

Will nods over at Fitz, the stepbrother who’d been in the same grade as her growing up and one of her best friends for about as long as she could remember. Said brother is currently trying to mess up Cam’s hair with one hand, while fighting one of her triplets, Tye, for the last danish. “He’s come out with us a few times, I guess with Mitch? He looks like Fred.” She gives the two of them a look. Literally the only thing her brother and their goalie have in common is red hair. Will shrugs. “Little Fred.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” She declares. “The bar is so low.”

“Must be.” Ryan nudges her side. She hadn’t even heard him come up beside her. “Dating you and all.” 

She flips him off and he grins; Ryan’s actually the sibling closest in age to her, with the way all their birthdays work out, but from Luke to Ryan, all four of them are close and when Steph and her sister were added in there as well…well, the group chat gets chaotic.

“Hey!” Her mom snaps her fingers at them. “I don’t want to see any of that today.” And Aub can feel it in her face, the look she’s giving back to her mom, like certain that she’s not serious, because, honestly, has she met any of them? She peeks over at Ryan; he’s fighting back a laugh and that’s all it takes for her mom to lose it, the seriousness on her face quickly turning into a laugh.

It’s enough to get them all moving though, toward the wall they’re going to be tackling today, where they’re divided into teams by her stepdad and Steph’s dad, the only two who competently know what they’re doing.

“Ohhh!” Cam says immediately drifting towards the power saw. “Can I use this?”

Will pulls it away from her hands before she has the chance to even touch it and Aubrey’s calling out to her stepdad. “Mike! Are we stuck with these people all day?”

“Yes.” Her stepdad calls back; he’s already showing Tye and Danny how to demo their end of the wall.

Aub looks at Will and immediately mouths, “I’m sorry,” but he’s already loudly laughing at her. She kinda hates that he’s laughing at her, but she hates even more how contagious his laughter is.

-----

It’s a little past dinner time and Aubrey’s exhausted, too tired even to take her empty pizza plate to the kitchen trash can from where she’s sitting on the family room floor. 

Around her, the rest of her family is in a similar state. Ryan’s actually asleep on one end of the couch, and on the other end, Auston’s half-heartedly grumbling at Derek Carr and the Raiders, while Steph’s lying across Mitch’s lap on the other side of the room. It’s about as quiet as they’ve all ever been, even Mitch and her sisters, which is how she knows they’re all exhausted.

Next to her, Will’s been quietly munching on a plate of fries since he finished his pizza a while ago. Aubrey reaches over and steals one from him. “Hey!” He protests.

“You’ve had the whole plate!” She thought she ate a lot; she honestly doesn’t know where he puts it all. “I just wanted a couple!”

“A couple?” Will repeats and Aubrey nods with a grin, reaching out and swiping another one from the plate. “Keep this up and we’re going to have to stop for second dinner on the way home.”

“I could probably eat again by then.” She rationalizes, stealing another. 

Will laughs, sliding the plate over a few inches toward her, and Aubrey grins triumphantly. It’s quiet for a minute, or mostly quiet, the only sound for the next minute Auston moaning about a fumble, and Kaylee and Cam asking a question about it and then giggling to each other about it before they even get a full answer to it. 

It’s Auston’s perplexed face that reminds her and she nudges Will as she goes in for another fry. “Hey.” She bumps him again, grabbing his attention. “Thanks.”

Will hums, sounding almost confused, and glances over at her. Every time Aubrey thinks it’s impossible for him to be more good looking, he proves her wrong; and always doing the most innocent things. He’s just looking at her, with this tiny little smile, but the light’s catching his eyes and they look impossibly blue and gentle, so soft like the rest of him does right now, in a way he almost never publicly is. “For what?”

“For putting up with my sisters all weekend and their increasingly ridiculous comments.”

Will laughs and he’s so close that she can feel the vibration. He’s leaning back against the wall again, but his head’s tilted a little, just barely leaning against hers, and Aub leans into it a little as he starts to talk. “My two youngest sisters play this game, every time we go to the airport, yeah? After we’ve said goodbye and everything. It’s like this competition between them, for who gets the last touch. And they’ll like chase me down as far as they can until I get to security, back and forth between the two of them…”

Aubrey’s already giggling, picturing the scene. “Same shit, different day,” She summarizes the weekend.

He flicks his finger across her nose and she giggles again. “Bingo.”

-----

It’s only when they’re back in the car and on the highway back toward Toronto after stopping for sushi for a second dinner that Auston says, sounding entirely too casual to actually be casual, “So, like, what’s really going on here with you two?”

Aub feels her stomach drop and it takes everything in her not to look at Will, who of fucking course, plays it enitrely cool. “What do you mean?”

Auston leans forward, from the middle seat in the back, which he’d generously offered to take so that she could sit up with Will even though she’d insisted he’d want the leg room up front; she’s starting to wonder if there was more to it than that. He gestures between the two of them. “It’s just, like, not how you usually are with girls.”

Will’s head whips back to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He demands.

“Will!” Aubrey hisses. “Eyes on the road.”

Auston’s cackling as Will turns his attention back to driving, but continues to eye him up through the rearview mirror. Aubrey twists in her seat; she can still stare him down. “So anyway,” He continues. “There’s that. And then, I mean, I was in the car with him when you literally texted him your apartment number. That was pretty sketch.”

Aub swings her gaze over to Will. “It came over Bluetooth.” He defends. 

She pats his thigh. “Stick with hockey, kay?”

He laughs, and when she looks back at Auston, he’s laughing too, but he’s also got this thoughtful look on his face. “So anyway, what’s going on?” He presses.

“Steph and Mitch.” She says finally, after exchanging another look with Will.

“Ah.”

“That’s it?” She frowns at him. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Well, I mean, I’m sure there’s more to it, but like, I have met them before.” Auston grins when she and Will both laugh. “So what’d they do now?”

“Do you have an hour?” Will drawls.

“I have beer upstairs.” Auston offers, since they’re basically pulling up to his apartment, and since Will looks over at her for confirmation, Aub barely even takes a second before agreeing.

“Any wine?”

-----

It’s actually kind of crazy how relieving it is for someone else to know about her and Will, outside of the two of them. Aubrey hadn’t even realized how much it was weighing on her until it’s not, until the three of them had spent three hours laughing about it, recapping the entire thing and then just laughing about nothing.

She notices right away that it's equally relieving to Will, that the two of them will drift over to Auston when the team does something together, or that she’ll get a snapchat from one of them from the road that features Will and Auston off doing something ridiculous.

Steph calls her out on it one day, when the two of them are at a game one night. “I did not introduce you to Will for the two of you to spend time with Auston.”

“You ditched me last night!” Aubrey protests, but really, Steph’s not wrong. That was one time, because Mitch’s brother wanted to introduce his new girlfriend to them, and she’s been out here avoiding invites like it’s her job.

Steph continues like she didn’t hear a thing. “I introduced you to Will so that we could have great couples’ friends and hang out all the time, so why aren’t we?”

“I thought you introduced me to Will because we’d be perfect together?” Aubrey bitches and Steph gives her a look, so Aubrey promises that she and Will will do dinner with her and Mitch again soon.

Dinner soon, to Steph, apparently means that weekend, and Aubrey finds herself in Will’s car again, with a bottle of wine and a plate of dessert, driving out to Etobicoke on Friday night. “I like that I’ve claimed this seat now.”

Will laughs. “What?”

“It’s always set where I want it to be!” She grins. “Perfect leg room!”

Her phone buzzes as Will laughs again, but it only takes a quick glance at the screen to click back out of it. “You okay?” Will asks.

“Huh?”

“You just got real quiet, real quick.” He says, turning onto Steph and Mitch’s street. “Everything alright?”

Aubrey huffs out an aggravated breath, trying to decide what, if anything, she wants to say. “My other dad is being...my other dad.”

“Oh?” Will parks in their driveway and she huffs out another annoyed sigh as her phone buzzes in her pocket, knowing it’s just her half-brother again with more shit about their dad. 

“He’s like…” She gathers her stuff and tries to find the words as they walk inside. “I don’t even know. Everybody’s been freaking out since some lady tagged him in a bunch of pictures on Facebook last week but my siblings are at dinner with him right now and they asked him about it and he told them he’s not seeing anyone.”

“Wait, seriously?” It’s the first thing Steph says to her; Aub’s been bitching to her about the whole thing for a week now and she’s more than familiar with her issues with her dad. 

“Yes!” She cries. “My sister asked if he was seeing anyone, he said no. I guess one of the boys asked if he’d taken any trips lately, because of the pictures, and he said no. So he’s just straight up lying and I don’t know why!”

“Maybe,” Will says. “He’s not actually lying.”

Aubrey pats his arms gently. “You’re new here, so I’ll let that terrible thought pass.”

Will looks taken aback but she can barely spare a thought for that as Mitch says, “Maybe he got secret-married again and is just waiting until you’re all there to tell you-OW!” Steph elbows him hard and he grins anyway. “What? I’m just saying!”

“I already went to therapy once this week, Mitchy.” Aub mock-glares at him. “I cried for three hours and only didn’t dye my hair blue because Steph came to pick me up for the game. I don’t need to go again. Keep that shit to yourself and get me some wine.”

Mitch laughs; he’s equally familiar with her post-therapy routine and her feelings for her dad. “Alright fine.” He says, but there must still be something on her face because Will’s hand comes to rest on her shoulder right after that and he rubs it gently for a minute before he comes to sit next to her.

Conversation turns lighter after that- to Mitch’s brother’s new girlfriend, who Steph liked and Mitch thought was only okay and then to Will’s sister’s new boyfriend, who he hates-before they’re all more focused on food and a game later in the evening. 

It’s easy to ignore her phone buzzing when Aubrey and Mitch are dominating Steph and Will at Codenames (or calling cheaters, because Will and Steph most definitely are), but much harder to ignore in the car when she and Will are alone again, and Aub barely even notices when Will doesn’t make the turn for her place, instead just driving straight to his place.

“Oh.” She says quietly when he finally parks and they’re in the garage, instead of just pulling up out front of her building, like he has been recently.

“Didn’t want you to dye your hair blue tonight.” Will deadpans and Aubrey laughs, surprised that it’s kind of watery. 

“Fair, it was definitely a risk.”

Will smiles at her gently. “I’ve been told my guest room is supremely comfortable.”

Aubrey raises her eyebrows; she can siphon out the source of that one. “I hear your brother has pretty shitty taste.” She says and he laughs, that loud one he’s got that she can’t help but smile at because it sounds so ridiculous, but Aubrey’s already getting out of the car, ready to follow him up before he can see.

Will’s condo is pretty much everything she expected- a lot of modern pieces, a lot of white, very Scandanavian- but there’s plenty of Will in it as well. A lot of family pictures. Some hockey stuff-both Leafs and Team Sweden-but not an overwhelming amount. 

She’s still looking at some of the pictures (he looks so much like his mom) when he returns with a couple glasses of wine, and she accepts hers with a gracious smile. “Thank you.”

“We’ve been at this long enough for me to know that wine’s your thing.” He jokes and she laughs.

“I meant for bringing me here.” She shoves at his shoulder; annoyingly enough he doesn’t even move. “I definitely would have done something stupid.”

“What are friends for?” Will smiles and there’s that annoyed feeling again, maybe even more so than just a minute ago, tugging at her stomach, for really no reason. They are friends now, in pretty much every sense of the word. They hang out, they text, they do all kinds of things. It’ll actually probably be hard for her, to not be friends with him, or at least pretend to be, when they have to “break up” for a bit to annoy Steph and Mitch. 

“Yeah.” Aubrey says and it just sounds off so she takes a sip of her wine right away so he can’t see whatever her face is doing. “If you were really my friend, you’d let me borrow some sweats to sleep in. You know. Since you kidnapped me to bring me here.”

“Ohh, I don’t know if we’re that close.” Will says, but he’s laughing as he walks toward his room so she knows he’s kidding.

It’s a pretty quiet night between the two of them once they make themselves comfortable, just chilling on the couch and watching Netflix, and Will’s not stingy with his pours so Aubrey pours herself into his guest room a little tipsy, and maybe that’s why she texts him from bed. You were right, your guest bed is pretty comfortable.

*Supremely* comfortable. Told you so 😜

-----

Aub’s still in Will’s absurdly comfortable guest bed when her daily FaceTime call with her sisters comes in and she answers it without thinking. “Hey.”

“Where are you?” Kaylee asks immediately. “That’s not your room-oh my god, are you at Will’s?” She blurts and Aubrey wants to smack herself.

“That’s Leafs stuff!” Cam exclaims, popping her head into the frame. “You never wear Leafs stuff! Oh my god, do you live there now?”

“Back up, calm the crazy.” She’s cutting off this spiral before they’ve got the story of her and Will eloping spread to her entire family. 

Kayls pouts. “You never let us have any fun.”

“I do not want a call from Grandma this afternoon asking me why I got married to the blond hippie from the Leafs because you two can’t keep your mouths shut and she saw one bad picture.” 

Cam’s jaw drops in outrage. “That’s so rude, we would at least send a good picture out! Like she’d know how hot he really is; there’d be no need to google and accidentally come across a picture of him in a Sugo hat.”

That’s it. She’s up for good now. Aubrey throws the blankets off herself and sits up off the edge of the bed, rubbing her temples in hopes it’ll make her tiny hangover headache go away. Limited success. “You googled him?”

“Of course we googled him!” Kayls says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Aub, oh my god, he’s got-”

“I’m leaving this room right now.” Aubrey warns; she’s already at the door. “Stop talking about him like he’s not here.”

Cam immediately launches into a story about a couple of the girls on her field hockey team and something that had happened at practice after school yesterday, a story that she’s still detailing when Aubrey walks into the kitchen to find Will also looking into his phone with a fond look on his face as a loud jumble of voices shout back to him in what she can only assume is Swedish.

“Coffee’s back there.” He points, greeting her with a smile. “And mugs above it.”

“Thank you.” She’s pretty sure, from the expression on his face, that he knows how much of a lifeline that’s about to be for her.

“Hi Will!” Kayls calls and Aub glares at her, but Will calls back a greeting in return before returning to Swedish, but definitely in an argumentative tone.

It’s a couple more minutes of that-listening to Will speaking in Swedish and going through her usual morning nonsense with her sisters-before Will lets out the smallest groan and then looks at her. “My sisters want to say hi.”

“Oh.” Aubrey says, surprised more than anything.

And before she can really say anything, Cam adds. “Yes! Then we can talk with Will!” Which is how she finds herself sitting next to Will with his dog curled in her lap, both their phones in front of them, speaking with her sisters and two of Will’s sisters.

It’s pretty much maximal chaos, but when they both end their calls a few minutes later, Aubrey’s still smiling as she runs her hand through the dog’s fur and Will’s laughing to himself. “Mmm, good luck to you.” Aub nudges him, easy enough to do since she’s still sitting flush up next to him. “When they’re in town next month. They’ve probably all followed each other on Instagram by now already. Best friends in no time.”

“Gonna be busy with games.” Will says weakly. “Practices, media things. Think it’s gonna be your problem.”

“Like hell.” She laughs, shaking her head when he joins in and doesn’t stop. “Oh my god, that was not that funny!”

“Just thinking of all the ways they’re going to torture us when they’re all together after they’ve spent the last month talking shit about us in a group chat.” Will says, somehow still laughing about that, because he’s literally the most chill person on the planet. Like of course he’s not even bothered by that.

“I don’t have enough food in me to deal with that thought.” Aubrey declares, laughing decidedly less at the thought of actually meeting Will’s family. In person. Where they’ll have to actually see her and see what a farce this is. “Feed me.”

Will shrugs. “Let me change and we’ll grab brunch.”

Aub looks down at the very large sweats she’s borrowed to sleep in. “We’ll stop first, yeah?”

“Depends on how hangry you are.” Will calls back, already walking away.

She pulls a face at his back at that one. She’s actually pretty hungry, but like, she’s not dumb enough to go out to brunch with him in a walk of shame. Not when there’s already a group chat forming about her on Instagram. She doesn’t need Leafs Twitter coming for her too.

-----

It’s easy to settle in a routine from there; meeting Mitch and Steph for dinner a few times, joining Steph for games and then leaving with Will for a second dinner after, and easily splitting off to spend time with her own family and friends or catching up with them when Will is off on road trips. 

It’s so easy to settle into a routine like that, a relationship routine, that she lets herself get lulled into a false sense of security, the message from her dad catching her off guard completely one day.

“What’s wrong?” Will asks, when they’re at dinner after a game. It’s their thing now; pick a restaurant and grab some food right afterwards before he drops her off at home. It’s a nice way to wind down actually; she usually looks forward to it.

Tonight though, Aub has been uncharacteristically quiet since they met up and she was a downright bitch earlier when she and Steph were fighting about something. Like, she knows they’ll forget all about it tomorrow, but still. She owes her best friend coffee at the least. “Hmm?” She looks up at him, barely hearing his question. 

“What’s wrong?” He repeats, giving her a look before she can fight him against answering.

She pushes her food around a little-very uncharacteristic for her, and she can tell even Will’s picked up on that. “My dad wants to meet us all for dinner this week, which means he probably did get secret-married again.”

“Oh.” Will makes a face and Aubrey returns it, laughing when he contorts his even worse. “And that’s-I mean-again?” He finally settles on and she nods, ready to drop this bomb.

“It’ll be wife number six, but secret wedding number three.” She says, delighting in the way his jaw drops. “This is just, like, what he does; he just announces he wants to have dinner with us and then shows up and is like and here’s my new wife, like it’s super casual, and then we all wonder why I need therapy when he’s out here hiding wives and families like it’s a fulltime job.” She finishes, only realizing how heated she is about it when she looks up to find Will staring at her with wide eyes.

“Um.” Will starts.

“Sorry.” Aub hastens, flushing.

“No!” Will says. “No, don’t apologize at all, you can, like, share whatever you want. I just...I got like half of what you just said.” He gives her an apologetic look. “Missing a big chunk of this story.”

“Right.” Aub nods, pretty proud of how calm she sounds. Dr. Seth is going to be so impressed with her next week. “Sorry. We haven’t talked about the two secret families he was hiding when I was growing up. Ok, I’ll back up.”

“He what?” Will cries, but Aub waves him off, diving into the whole history of her dad, her half-siblings, and her step-moms...as well as their various divorces. 

“...and that brings us to now.” She takes a sip of her wine thoughtfully; Will has long since drained his and refilled. She’s pretty sure she didn’t miss anything. “And dinner that’s going to be an absolute disaster.”

“Do you want me to come?” Will offers.

“No!” She says immediately. That’s like-god, that’s the worst idea ever. They do not need to get her greedy father involved in this, who’d take one look at Will and see dollar bills. She’s accepted that she can’t change the way her dad treats her (after many years of therapy); she’s got another dad who loves her and it’s not fine the way her dad doesn’t remember her birthday or what she does for work or pretty much anything important about her, but it is what it is. But like, she’s not going to subject Will to it. “It’ll be-fine.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “But thanks anyway.”

Will purses his lips. It’s clear that he doesn’t love that answer, but he doesn’t say anything more on the subject, asking her instead if she wants to split a dessert, as if he doesn’t already know the answer to that question, and Aub, grateful for the change in topic, even agrees to let him pick this time.

It’s a rare gift.

-----

Aubrey knows she had a little too much to drink at dinner with her dad, but she’s not so drunk that she can’t recognize that this is Will’s door she’s standing in front of, knocking loudly and repeatedly. 

She has only a moment to contemplate that-that it’s here she chose to come to after yet another disaster dinner, instead of Steph’s or her brother’s or back home to her own place-before Will’s opening the door, the confusion passing quickly over his face when he realizes it’s her.

“Hey.” He beams and steps back, silently inviting her in, but Aub doesn’t want him to go further away from her. That’s why she came here. “Whoa, hey!” Will says, as Aub steps in the condo and presses herself against him. “Are you-” He lets out a strangled choke as she tiptoes up and loops her arms around the back of his neck. “-okay?”

“Peachy.” She says, pulling him down to kiss her.

It’s not really a great kiss; Will’s kissing her back for a moment, and then pulling back. “Wait-”

“No.” She whines, leaning in for another, and he does it again, caught up for a moment in kissing her, but then it’s like his thoughts catch up to him and he breaks it.

“Aub, we shouldn’t- we aren’t-”

And like why shouldn’t they? They’ve been doing this fake relationship for a while now and not able to hook up with anyone else because of it. He’s objectively the hottest person she’s ever seen. There’s no reason that’s coming to her right now that says she shouldn’t. “We’re friends now!” Aubrey says, running her palms over his shoulders. God, why weren’t they doing this the entire time? “Right?” And Will nods, slowly, but it’s a nod, “It’s fine, friends hook up all the time.” 

“You really want this?” His thumb brushes her cheek as she nods and only then does he pull her back in for a kiss.

-----

If Aubrey thought Will’s guest bed was comfortable, it’s really got nothing on his actual bed. She rolls over, curling into the pillow a little more and opens her eyes to see the sliver of sunlight coming through catch the edge of Will’s face, that one piece of hair that’s sticking up that should be unattractive, but is totally not.

It’s really just unfair.

The sound comes from behind her and Aub jumps when she realizes it’s Will’s alarm going off.  It seems like it barely even fazes him; he just reaches across her and silences it; his arm falling across her when he drags himself back.

“Hi.” She smiles.

“Hi.” Will laughs and it lights up his whole face; she can’t help the hand that comes up to trace over his features. “Come on, that’s not fair.

“What’s not fair?” Aubrey asks innocently, trailing her nails down his chest.

He groans. “I have to go. Skate.”

“You don’t have to go.” She pouts and he groans again.

“You’re making it really hard to have to.”

“Good.” Aubrey giggles, only stopping when Will shuts her up with a kiss.

“Really hard.” He repeats as she rolls her hips into his.

“Fine.” She sighs, flopping onto her back, and she knows the move does exactly as she’d intended when his eyes go right to her chest. “I guess I’ll just have to stay here in bed until you get back.”

“Please do.” He insists, leaning over to kiss her again. “Fastest skate ever.” Will promises.

“You can’t control that.” Aubrey reasons, even as Will’s shaking his head at her while he climbs out of bed.

“Fastest skate ever.” He repeats.

She can’t really confirm or deny that it is; but when he does return, pulling her out of a doze by jumping on top of her, there’s coffee on the table for her too. It’s cold by the time she gets to it.

-----

“You guys are being weird.” Steph comments one night, as Aub’s cheering after Will scores a tie-breaking goal. 

“What?” Aubrey gives her a look. “What do you mean?”

“You and Will.” Steph says, like it should be obvious. “You’re like-” She breaks off, making a noise of frustration.

“You’re in the honeymoon phase.” Alannah supplies helpfully and Steph lights up.

“Yes!” She cries and Aubrey glares over at Alannah but she merely smiles back. “But it’s like, you’re back in it? Like, you weren’t for a while and now...you can’t take your hands off each other again!”

Aubrey doesn’t really know what to say to that. She’s not denying that she and Will have been all over each other ever since that first night they slept together. She can’t even remember the last time she went to her apartment for anything more than to pack clothes and she’s lost track of the number of times she’s reached out for him only to find Will already reaching for her.

But before? She can’t think of any moment where they were ever like they are now. Like there’s too much space between them even when she’s right next to him. Or this pull that brings her toward him no matter where he’s at.

But she doesn’t...she doesn’t know what to say about that. Because it’s not like anything has changed between them. They’re still friends; they still laugh and joke as usual, still gossip about their friends together, are still just waiting to drop a big break up on Mitch and Steph. 

Nothing’s changed, even if maybe, she thinks, something has.

So she shrugs at Steph and says, “We’re just happy. Is that so bad?”

Steph beams and leans her head against Aubrey’s shoulder, and like, Aub knows that’s exactly what she’d been hoping for since she introduced her to Will, but Aubrey still feels like something wasn’t right about what she said.

-----

Aubrey tugs on the Nylander jersey that drapes over her frame as she and Will walk into the hospital conference room. “Are you sure about this?”

“It’s tradition.” He grins. “Stop playing with it.”

“That’s what she said.” She says as dryly as she can, managing to keep the face until he laughs, and then she cracks up with him. 

That’s how the two of them walk into the conference room where the team is meeting; laughing so loudly that everyone stops what they’re doing to turn and look, but she and Will only get a bunch of fond smiles before everyone turns back to their own conversations.

Steph gives her a knowing look when they approach hand in hand, which Aubrey ignores pointedly. “You didn’t warn me we’d have to actually go things wearing this dumb jersey when you plotted to get us together.”

“Oh I didn’t?” Steph says innocently as Mitch and Will sputter in protest. “Must have slipped my mind.”

“Dumb jersey?” Will nudges her.

Aub shrugs, looking up at him with a cheeky grin. “It’s a little big. Might have some trouble getting out of this thing.”

Will grins. “I’m sure some help can be arranged.”

Mitch feigns gagging. “There are children around.”

Wills hand drags up her side briefly-too briefly- as he grins at Mitch. “Where, Mitchell?” But he backs off and Aub does too, both of them catching up with teammates and wives and girlfriends around them.

Or they back off a little, but Aub still finds herself drawn int0 his orbit, especially once they start splitting off into groups to move through the hospital to go see the kids. His hand will brush against hers as they move between rooms; she’s bumping her shoulder against his arm comfortingly as they talk with parents.

It’s not very subtle, but they don’t need to be. Except…

“What is going on?” Auston hisses at her, in passing, as he’s about to step inside the room Will’s just about leaving.

“Nothing.” Aub says innocently, but Will reaches for her hand when he leaves, opting for a fist bump with Auston instead, and Auston’s eyes widen, but Aubrey tugs Will along before he can say anything. “Come on, let’s grab some water real quick!”

The diversion doesn’t last long; Auston catches up to her only two rooms later while Will’s in talking hockey with a little girl and she’s waiting outside, leaning against the wall. He joins her, looking in as well for a moment, before looking over at her. “This is a terrible idea.” Auston says flatly.

“You were on board with it!” Aubrey hisses, trying to keep a smile on her face.

“That was before I realized you guys were sleeping together. Now it’s going to backfire and go to shit.”

Aubrey frowns. “Why?”

“Why?” Auston repeats, like he can’t even help himself. “Oh my god, you don’t even-” He stops abruptly. 

“Don’t even what?” She prompts, when it’s clear he’s not going to continue.

But he doesn’t continue. He just rubs his temples for a minute and mutters under his breath. “Fuck me, how do I have to be the smart one here?”

“Hey!” Aubrey protests, offended. “I am always the smart one.”

“Not right now.” He says cryptically. “And it’s hard to tell who’s being dumber: you or Willy.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Aubrey frowns, but Auston’s already walking away. “Auston!” He ignores her. “Auston!”

“Hey.” Will’s reaching for her arm gently. “What’s wrong?”

Auston’s out of sight now anyway. “Nothing.” She shakes her head, clearing her thoughts and then looks up at him. “Next room?”

-----

“What are you doing Friday?” Aubrey looks up from scrolling through her family’s group chat; Will’s peering at her from across the island.

“Nothing.” She says, after thinking about it for a minute. “What’s up?”

“We play my brother on Saturday.” He says and the shoe doesn’t drop until he adds, “So my parents and sisters are coming in for a bit. Watch the game. Do early Christmas. Hang out a bit.”

“Oh.” She bites her lip. It shouldn’t-it shouldn't be weird. He survived a whole weekend with her sisters, he’s met her entire family; they’ve gone out a few times with varying numbers of her brothers since then. It just...feels weird now.

Will eyes her carefully for a second but continues. “They come in early Friday morning and I made dinner reservations for that night, if you want to come with us.” 

He says it super casually, the way he is about pretty much everything, but she knows him well enough now. There’s a little hopeful tone at the end of it, almost like a question even though it’s not phrased as one. “Yeah.” She says, and even though she’s already nervous about this dinner that’s literally days away, it’s worth it to see the smile grow across his face. “I’d love to come with you guys.”

“They’ll be excited.” Will says, which really undersells just how excited his sisters actually are when they do roll into town later in the week.

Daniella throws herself at Aubrey the second she walks in the door, chattering excitedly about meeting her, and spending the weekend together, and dinner that night, all before Aubrey can even put her purse down. She doesn’t know what her face is doing but whatever it is is bad enough that Will says something to his sister in Swedish and follows it up with a glare when she giggles something back to him.

It works though; Daniella detaches herself, but she does stay close, almost bouncing along next to Aubrey as she steps further inside. “Come on.” Will nods toward the kitchen. “My parents are in here.”

Fuck, his parents. She takes a deep breath. “Cool.”

He grins. The panic must definitely be showing on her face, but his sister just keeps talking through it- Aubrey can relate- or Daniella just doesn’t notice it in her excitement. But Will does, still grinning at her, and she brushes against him purposefully with her shoulder as she goes to follow Daniella, only for him to grab her hand as she passes.

“You don’t have to be nervous.” He squeezes her hand and the only thing that stops her from frowning is his sister. It’s kind of a harsh reminder of the circumstances that she is meeting his family under, the details behind what’s happening here, and that someday-probably soon even- they’ll go back to...well, she hopes that they’ll at least still be friends. 

Even if they stop hooking up.

Danielle goes right up to Stephanie in the kitchen, the two of them whispering to each other in a way that immediately reminds Aub of Kaylee and Cam, enough that she has to fight back a laugh. But it’s Will’s parents that really draw her attention. Michael and Camilla are exactly how she’d pictured from every story Will’s ever told her, full attention on her as soon as she and Will enter the kitchen.

“This is Aubrey.” Will introduces.

“Hi!” She smiles, hoping it’s bright and warm enough to hide her nerves. 

And it works- or more likely, Will’s parents are as perceptive as he is- because they jump right into chatting easily with her. 

She loves them immediately.

They’re warm and friendly, like they’re welcoming her, even though they’re the ones who spent hours on a plane recently. Will’s mom- Camilla, she insists- draws her into a conversation about her family right away- “William told me you have many siblings as well.” “Mum!” “Mum, they’re the best!”- which keeps them going for a while until Michael reminds them they have a reservation to keep. 

“You can keep talking at the restaurant.” He teases Camilla, who’s glaring at him. “Some of us are hungry!”

She rolls her eyes at him- a look that is so similar to one Aubrey’s seen Will make a thousand times- but it serves to get all of them moving. They do keep talking at the restaurant, Camilla shoving her own son out of the way to pull Aubrey in the seat next to her, and Daniella sliding in the seat on her other side before Will can grab it, only for him to mutter something to her in Swedish, sending her quickly sliding over to the next one.

Dinner seems to fly by but it’s actually a few hours later that they’re returning home, pulling out a bottle of wine for a night cap. Aubrey’s just about preparing to go home to her own place before Will’s mom stands up and kisses the top of her head, right in line with all her own kids, promising to see her in the morning, and then the night wraps up and Will’s pulling her into his room, like it’s any normal night.

“Are you-” She trails off abruptly as Will walks right to the closet, like no strange thing. But, what did she even want to ask? Are you sure you want me to stay? It’s not going to be weird if I do?  

“What’s up?” Will pops his head out of the closet.

“Nothing.” Aubrey shakes her head, moving to brush her teeth. She’s not even sure she knows where that question was going; she can’t explain why tonight feels weirder than any other night that she’s climbed into his bed before.

It does though, and that’s made even more evident by the way she tosses and turns once they climb into bed and turn the lights off, settling in on what’s become her side of the bed, right after she brushes her teeth and runs through her nightly skin routine.

It feels like it shouldn’t be so hard to sleep- it’s been a long day, following a long week, preparing for Will’s family to arrive, but she can’t seem to get comfortable and her thoughts are racing.

She rolls over again, facing Will this time, only to find him looking at her with amusement. “You okay?”

“Can’t sleep.” She admit, biting her lip

Will grins, pulling her close. “I can fix that.”

“I’m not having sex with you while you’re parents are here!” Aubrey hisses.

“No?” Her breath hitches as his fingers dance lower down her stomach and then-

“Will!” She laughs, as he gently pinches a ticklish spot.

“Shh!” He’s grinning, she hates him so much. “My parents are-”

“Don’t say it.” She says, surging up to kiss him so he can’t finish that sentence. God, she hopes his walls are thick.

-----

“Stop.” Aubrey hears Will right outside the door. “Go away.”

She can hear one of his sister’s respond, but the actual words get lost in the chaos of her own sisters’ FaceTime, which she’s wrapping up as she lies in bed. It’s loud enough outside that she knows Will’s family is awake already, bright enough that she probably should get up, but she’s too comfortable to make herself move.

“Daniella!” She hears, followed by something in Swedish just as the door opens and a blonde head pokes in.

“See! She is awake!” And that’s all the warning she gets before Daniella is jumping up right next to her.

“Daniella!” Will snaps again, but Aubrey’s already sliding over to make room for her.

“She’s fine.” She assures him, wrapping her arm around Daniella’s shoulders as she cuddles in close.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Daniella says to her brother, not bothering to pull herself away from Aubrey’s iPhone screen, where she’d barely wasted a minute before jumping into chatting with Kayls and Cam. 

Will’s leaning against the dresser and shaking his head in amusement, watching as Aubrey manages to finish up her call (a task much harder with Daniella in her ear, calling just as much nonsense back as her sisters do), but there’s a soft smile on his face that Aubrey almost can’t bring herself to look at, so she starts twirling her hand through the ends of Daniella’s hair. 

“I can’t believe you two.” Daniella huffs, and she’s so much like Will, just loving her hair played with; Aubrey tries to hide her grin because she knows he’d fight her on it if she had to say it out loud right now. “Not even inviting your sisters here for the weekend.”

“Why would we invite ourselves into that kind of roast?” Will says dryly. “The two of you are bad enough.”

“Like you’re not going to talk about us anyway,” Aubrey adds. “I’ve seen the receipts.” She teases. “I know you talk about us on instagram.” 

“You talk about us on instagram?” Will demands immediately.

“No.” Daniella says, unconvincingly.

“They talk with my sisters every day.” Aubrey whispers to him and laughs when he turns his outraged face toward his sister, who avoids his gaze completely.

“Seriously?” Will cries.

Daniella shrugs. “We have a lot to say.”

“I’ll give you a lot to say.” Will says, mock-threateningly, before throwing himself on the bed on her other side and poking his finger in her side until she’s laughing so hard that she’s begging for him to stop. He does, after one last poke, which Daniella returns with a pout. “Go get dressed.” Will nudges her. “Or Aubrey’s going to go to brunch without you.”

“Aubrey wouldn’t do that.” Daniella says confidently, standing to leave. “She’s nicer than you.” 

Will barks out a laugh. “Is she?”

Both Nylanders turn to look at her, just as she’s swinging her legs out of bed and Aubrey shrugs. “I wouldn’t leave your sister behind.” She says, grinning when Will laughs and Daniella’s got her phone out of her pocket before she even leaves the room.

-----

Will and Alex are close. Aubrey knows this. She knows they talk pretty much everyday whether it’s texting, Facetiming, or even actual phone calls. They’re brothers, sure, but more than that; they’re best friends.

And maybe that’s why it’s hard not to shrink under Alex’s gaze the second they meet. It’s not that he’s not friendly when Will introduces them, returning the smile she gives him.

It’s just that his gaze feels piercing in a way that none of the rest of his family did. It feels like Alex sees through all of her but more than that; he’s studying all of her and doesn’t like what he sees.

God, she doesn’t know what she’s going to do if Alex doesn’t like her.

She tries to be bubbly and bright, more listening than contributing to this conversation that’s mostly just brothers catching up. She knows that dinner later, and at their early Christmas celebration tomorrow, will really be when she gets to make her big impression on him. 

“Willy!” John Tavares calls, looking apologetic about the interruption. 

“Be right back.” Willy pats her arm gently before jogging down the hall and now Alex’s full attention is on her. Now she can’t help but shift her weight from foot to foot, even as Alex smiles at her. “So, Aubrey, huh?”

She fights back the urge to bite her lip. “Yup.”

“It’s exciting to finally meet you.” He grins and Aubrey’s jaw drops a little. “Will talks about you all the time.”

“He-he does?” She asks quietly. It’s about the most unexpected thing Alex could have said to her.

Alex bursts into laughter. “Uh yeah.” He says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but before she can press anything further, Will’s back, slinging his arm around her shoulders and squeezing her into his side tightly. 

“Ready for second dinner?” Will presses a kiss to her temple.

“Always.” Aubrey leans into him, ignoring the knowing look that Alex is sporting currently and the feeling in her stomach that doesn’t quite feel like butterflies.

-----

Aubrey tries to give it a few days after the Nylander’s leave town, hoping the feeling in her stomach will calm itself, but when it’s been a week and it hasn’t settled, she’s forced to admit that she’s going to need outside help.

Can you let me in? She sends, when she’s sure she’s outside the right door.

Open. Come in. 

She frowns at the response, opening the door. “I don’t love that!” She calls as she walks deeper in the condo. “You should really-” She stops abruptly, as a blonde whips her head around to glare at her and Auston stares at her wide-eyed. “Oh!”

“Oh?” The blonde repeats, kind of mockingly, but also seething, and Aubrey doesn’t really know what to do, so she looks over at Auston, who’s pointedly avoiding both of their eyes. “Unbelievable.” She shakes her head, shoving past Aubrey and only when the front door slams does she hear Auston breathe.

“What the fuck?” She asks him immediately, “You could have just said no, it wasn’t a good time to come over!”

“I wanted her to leave!” He protests. “I tried everything! She even volunteered to come take Felix on a walk with me!”

Aubrey cackles, barely managing to compose herself at Auston’s glare. “Well, go and get his leash. We can walk and talk.”

She gets quickly distracted by Felix’s excitement for a walk, snapping like twenty pictures on her phone, before Auston finally prods her about the reason she even wanted to meet today. “So what’s up?”

She takes a deep breath. “Am I in love with Will?”

“Are you in love with...are you fucking kidding me?” Auston responds immediately, looking at her like he had that day they were at Sick Kids- like she’s completely missing something that everyone else knows.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” She says reasonably.

“Oh my fucking god.” He says, sounding distressed. “Don’t you have, like, a therapist for this shit? How did I get drafted for this?”

“I mean, yes, I do, but I haven’t gone into the details of it with Dr. Seth before this and I don’t think an hour would cover it.” She says; she’s thought about that already. Auston rubs his temples. “Stop that.” Aubrey chides. “Your hairline is bad enough.”

“Well you’re not helping!” Auston cries. “Jesus Christ, am I in love with Willy? Where the fuck have you been?”

“Egypt, I guess.” She says and he stares at her flatly until she explains. “Denial?”

“Fuck off, I hate you so much. Oh my god.” He groans. “Willy would have laughed so hard at that, fuck you.”

The worst thing is that she knows he would have. He’d have laughed and laughed and laughed, his eyes crinkling and his smile bright and warm, so loud that she couldn’t help but join in.

“Holy shit.” Auston says quietly, watching the smile on her face. “You’re really in deep.”

“Ugh, yes.” Aubrey groans, covering her face. “I hate it. I hate these feelings. I hate not knowing. I hate-”

Auston cuts her off, choking out a laugh. “Not knowing? Not knowing what?” And then he chokes again, once he looks over at her. “Not knowing if Will-” He stops abruptly looking like he’s got a secret that he shouldn’t be telling. “Come on, you aren’t this dumb.”

“You’re being serious?” She says quietly, looking over at Auston hopefully. 

He avoids her eyes, bending down for a minute to pet his dog, but Felix absolutely betrays him by trying to run towards a new smell on a nearby bush, giving him absolutely nothing to look at instead of her. “I mean, come on.” Auston gives her a look. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Did he say it?”

“No.” Auston shakes his head, tugging gently on Felix’s leash to turn around. “But Aub, really? He brought you to meet his whole family.”

“He met mine too.” She reminds him. “And so did you!”

Auston shakes his head. “You...you just don’t see how he looks at you.”

Aubrey bites her lip, but she can’t resist asking. “How does he look at me?”

Auston doesn’t even have to think before he responds. “Like the rest of us aren’t even in the room.” 

“Oh.” She says quietly, looking down at the ground. Felix is just trotting away happily, like Aubrey’s entire world hasn’t been flipped on its axis. 

Auston, at least, seems to recognize the effect of what he’s said. “Look, even if you’re not ready to talk with him, just, like, look at the guy. You’re not in this alone.”

She’s definitely not ready to say anything, but, well, she could give that a try. Just try and see what Auston sees.What everyone sees apparently. “Alright.” She agrees.

“I won’t say anything.” Auston adds. “You two can figure this mess out on your own.”

“You’re the best.” Aubrey declares, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“I know.” Auston smirks, pulling Felix’s leash out from under her feet.

“Jerk.” Aubrey laughs, shoving his shoulder gently. “If you didn’t have the second best dog in the world right here, I’d push you harder.” She crouches down to scratch Felix’s ears, only for Auston to pull him out of her reach.

“Second best?” He cries, outraged. “Nuh-uh. You don’t get to pet my dog after that kind of disrespect.”

“I just ranked your dog above Zeus!” She protests. “But Pablo’s my boy.”

Auston releases his hold on the leash a little and Felix trots over toward her arms as he teases, “I thought we just agreed Willy was your boy.”

“Yeah, well,” Aubrey scratches behind Felix’s ears, smiling as his tongue lolls out. “Man’s best friend.”

-----

Will’s acting funny when Aubrey sees him the next day.

She only catches him for a few minutes before the game, when they briefly cross paths at his place when she goes to pick up a jacket she left there, and she doesn’t know how to explain it, but something just seems...off.

It’s like...he barely looks at her when she’s in there digging around what’s become her side of the bed and then he brushes past her, muttering something about how he needs to go and for her to just lock up whenever she’s done, which would be fine, except he usually waits for her if she’s around when he leaves so they can walk out together.

Something’s just off.

“Are you sure you didn’t fight about anything?” Steph frowns at her, later that night. “Even like a small, stupid thing that maybe you brushed off? Because you do that.”

“No!” Aubrey swears. “At first I thought he was just annoyed about the book, because the book I’m reading right now takes place in Sweden, so like every few pages I ask him if it’s real? Or what it’s like?”

“God, you must be the most annoying girlfriend.” Steph giggles.

“Don’t even, I know everything about you and Mitch.” Aubrey pokes her and Steph giggles again, admitting defeat. “But no! He wouldn’t even look at me! Something’s up!”

Steph purses her lips. “That is weird.” She admits. “It’s very...not Will.”

“No!” Aubrey cries. “Will doesn’t sit and let things stew! He doesn’t care enough about what people think about him for that.”

“So why is he acting like this then?” Steph asks and Aubrey blows out a frustrated breath.

“I don’t know!” She says. “And I just want him to tell me what’s going on.”

The rest of the game is fairly uneventful for the two of them, slipping quietly out of their seats after the win and chatting between themselves and a few other friends as they all wait. One by one, the boys all make their way out of the locker room, and Aubrey frowns as even Auston and John walk out, stopping briefly to chat with her, before even they go, until finally, finally, Will steps out, his face flickering when he sees her. 

“Hi?” She says, a little annoyed.

“Hi.” Will says, like nothing’s just happened, like he didn’t just do a double take of the worst kind at her mere presence.

“What’s wrong?” She frowns, reaching out for him and gently sliding her hand on his forearm.

“Nothing.” There’s no other word for it; Will flinches. 

“Will.” Aubrey breathes as he shrugs off her arm.

“It’s nothing.” He repeats. “I’m just tired.” Which is so clearly a lie and she frowns, ready to call him out, but he reaches for her hand and says, “Let’s go eat,” with such finality that she doesn’t really know how she’d bring it up.

All she knows is that his hand feels cold in a way it never has before and the silence they sit in at dinner is like nothing she’s ever felt with him, even before they started sleeping together.

-----

“Merry Christmas!” Cam throws open the front door dramatically before Aubrey, Will, Steph, and Mitch have barely even shut their car doors. “Come on, you’re late!”

“Oh boy.” Aubrey mutters and she hears Steph and Mitch laugh.

Will, however, is as quiet as he’s been all drive up to her parents for their annual Christmas Eve party- as quiet as he’s been all week, as he’s been since whatever happened- and it makes her wonder why he even came. She’d told him he didn’t have to come if he didn’t want to; he’d just given her this tiny smile and asked her what time they had to pick up Mitch and Steph.

“How are we late?” Steph asks, as all four of them start yanking off coats and scarves the second they walk in the door. “None of the neighbors are even here yet!” 

Cam huffs at that bit of logic and turns on her heel, walking away from them as they laugh, which cues Aubrey’s brothers into their arrival. Tye and Danny poke their heads around the corner of the wall, calling for Mitch immediately to show them how to do something on a new video game, but right away they’re thwarted by their mom. “Later.” Mitch whispers to them, as Tye and Danny grin, following the four of them into the kitchen. 

In the kitchen, they find Aubrey and Steph’s moms working in tandem- the way they always have on Christmas Eve- to finish the appetizers and set food out. They stop only briefly to greet their daughters and their daughters’ boyfriends, and to direct them on where to put the desserts they brought, before they’re shooing them all right back out.

“Dads in the basement?” Steph asks, like they all don’t know the answer already, and Danny nods, leading the way down the stairs, where Fitz and Ryan have already started a beer pong game against Mike and Tom.

“Shotty next.” Mitch calls, while he waits for Aubrey and Steph to say hi to their dads.

“You gonna be able to walk back next door?” Fitz snorts out a laugh.

“That was one time!” Mitch protests. “Nobody warned me how much drinking there was on Christmas Eve!”

“It’s like we hadn’t spent the last four months together before that.” Aubrey deadpans, focusing more on watching Will greet her stepdad with the same enthusiasm as he had her mom, and her brothers, and Cam.

But then, he comes back to her side, and when she goes to tangle their fingers together, his hand stays limp, just kind of letting her do what she wants, not returning the gesture at all, instead of pulling her closer like he used to.

“Guess I thought you two were the anomaly.” Mitch teases. “Then I learned I’d have to bring my A game all the time.” 

“Yeah buddy.” Tom says, looking over at his daughter’s boyfriend right after he sinks Fitz and Ryan’s last cup. “Who’s with you?”

-----

By the time Mitch and Will get demolished in beer pong, Aubrey and Steph are fighting back a laugh at their dads’ light buzz already going and the neighbors have started to arrive, which brings a temporary pause to pong play for more introductions.

The neighbors all love Will, which, of course they do. Aubrey’s not surprised at all. He’s funny and charming and personable, just has this air that draws people in, and every one of her mom’s friends finds her at some point after they meet Will to gush about how wonderful he is.

“Yeah.” Aubrey says, almost helplessly to Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Morris, as she watches Will with Kayls and Cam across the room. “He’s pretty great.” They smile knowingly at her, Mrs. Jones winking as she passes, leaving Aubrey to watch them with a fond smile on her face.

It’s Will who notices her staring first, because of course it is. Kayls and Cam are oblivious to everything around them. He catches her eye, still laughing about whatever they’re talking about, and there’s a second where his smile grows when he sees her, a second Aubrey feels a grin growing across her own face.

And then it all stops abruptly as something flashes over Will’s face, and as quick as the grin was there, it’s gone.

Aubrey frowns and watches as Will returns to talking with Kayls and Cam again, but notices the smile on his face seems forced now. She wants...well, she doesn’t know exactly what she wants, but she’s tired of not knowing what’s going on with him.

“Hey.” Fitz nudges her shoulder. “It’s too early for you to be sad about going to your dad’s tomorrow. Come take a shot with me.”

“I-” It’s not that. She starts to say, but stops herself. Today’s not the day to try and tease out whatever’s going on with Will. Whatever it is could wait until after Christmas. “Yeah, sure.”

Fitz grins, leading her over to the makeshift bar, corralling a few friends as they go, but by the time he starts pouring, the crowd around them has gotten bigger. Will’s standing next to her, but the space he’s left between them feels so purposeful, and it only makes Aubrey frown as she listens to Fitz’s Christmas toast, as he cheers to a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, to good friends and great family. “And a way too cool future brother-in-law.” He jokes. “Don’t fuck this up, Aub!”

“Yo!” Mitch protests loudly as Aubrey feels the breath get stuck in her chest. 

She can’t even look at Will, so tense she can hardly bring her shot glass up to her mouth. The alcohol barely even burns and she knows it’s not because she’s too drunk to taste it; the numbness of her brother’s comment still stinging, and it’s well after she’s deposited her shot glass on the counter that she realizes, “Where’s Will?”

Mitch frowns, looking behind them. “He was right here, wasn’t he?”

Aubrey nods slowly, trying to stand on her toes and search for him. “Can you just-” She starts.

Steph’s right on her wavelength. “You look up here; we’ll check downstairs.”

Will is nowhere to be found on the main floor, so she heads upstairs and finally finds him in the room they’d thrown their bags in earlier. “Hey.” She breathes out a sigh of relief. “There you are.”

“Here I am.” Will says quietly. He’s in front of the taller dresser, looking at the bulletin board covered in pictures from high school and college- one of the few relics left in the room from when it was hers before her mom refashioned it into a guest room. 

“I’m sorry about Fitz!” She blurts. “He didn’t mean any-”

“We should be wrapping up soon, right?” Will says abruptly, interrupting her.

“What?” Aubrey frowns, shocked. That is...not at all what she thought he’d say.

“This?” He gestures between the two of them. “Like, Mitch and Steph definitely think we're a thing. Can call this off soon?”

“Um.” Aubrey tries to breathe but something’s definitely restricting that ability. “We…what?”

“We can stop this pretending.” Will says, like it’s obvious, and Aubrey feels her stomach drop. This...this was all pretend to him. “Do that break up that’s going to crush them. The whole reason we did this.”

“Right.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “Uh yeah, we can do that.”

Will shrugs. “Cool.” He says, and then turns and walks away, leaving Aubrey standing there wondering where exactly she went wrong.

-----

“Ok.” Steph snaps her fingers and only then does Aubrey look up from the Leafs vs. Calgary game that her best friend invited her over to watch that she’s paying absolutely no attention to- and hasn’t actually been able to focus on all night. Her best friend is standing in front of her, holding a new bottle of wine, and looking concerned. “I’ve asked for your glass like four times now. What’s going on?”

Aubrey bites her lip and holds her glass out. If she’s going to do this, they’re both going to need refills. “I have to tell you something.”

Steph frowns immediately but fills Aubrey’s glass and then her own. “Uhh, ok? What’s up.”

Aubrey doesn’t know whether she needs a deep breath or a sip of wine to settle her nerves. She goes for both. “Will and I aren’t together.”

And maybe...maybe that was the wrong way to phrase it, because Steph’s face just falls. “I’m so sorry, babe.” She says, reaching out and rubbing Aubrey’s arm. “I really thought-” She shakes her head and Aubrey’s still trying to figure out what she said wrong, what she can say to make her see what she really means. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Aubrey says and Steph looks like she wants to reach for the wine bottle and pull her in for a hug at the same time, until she continues. “No, I mean; Will and I aren’t together now because we were never really together at all and no, I’m not okay either, actually, now that you mention it.”

Now Steph frowns uncertainly, like she doesn’t know what to say. And that look? The one on her face right there? If it didn’t feel like her heart was already breaking, she’d be cherishing that look.

Now she can’t even enjoy it.

“You’re going to have to explain this one to me.” Steph says, her voice carefully neutrally.

So Aubrey does- beginning with the night that Mitch and Steph had had them over and her and Will’s plan to get them to stop nagging, to when they’d started sleeping together, to how it felt like they were together for real and on the same page, right up until they weren’t.

“I wanna be so mad at you right now.” Steph says, after a long silence.

“You should be.” Aubrey admits. “I would be.

“Well, you’re making it really hard looking so sad.” Steph glares. “And being so dumb.” Aubrey’s jaw drops, even if the callout is probably well deserved. “Will looks at you like you are the center of the universe. He looks like his entire day has gotten better every time you walk into the room. For God’s sake, he willingly met your dad on Christmas last week! You cannot honestly tell me you think he doesn’t really want to be with you!”

“He told me he wanted to stop!” Aubrey cries. “He was the one who said we should do the breakup!”

“Well if you don’t want to, then tell him!” Steph dares.

“Stephanie.” Aubrey frowns. 

“What?”

“I can’t do that!” Aubrey hisses.

“Why not?” Steph pours another glass of wine for herself and then passes the bottle over. Aubrey accepts eagerly. “Did Will tell you why he wanted to stop this...dating thing?”

“...no.” Aubrey sighs. It’s another thing that’s been driving her crazy.

“So ask him.” Steph says plainly. “And tell him you don’t want to stop.”

Aubrey bites her lip nervously. “But what if he says no?”

“Honestly the worst thing that happens here is that you still break up.” Steph says gently. “But this really just sounds like a matter of you two actually needing to talk about where you stand. Will’s not a mind-reader, Aub; he can’t have known you didn’t want to stop things, especially if this was all your idea in the first place.”

Ugh, she’s right. “I hate everything about this.” Aubrey sing-songs. “Including the fact that you even introduced us.”

Now Steph grins. “You do not hate that we introduced you. You just hate feeling vulnerable.”

That’s too accurate to address, so Aubrey flips her off and reaches for the wine again.

-----

Will picks her up for the Leafs annual New Year’s Eve party and it’s unfair because no one should look that good dressed in black pants and a sweater, but there’s Will waiting by the car with a beanie on his head and a pea coat left open, for maximal torture is the only reason Aubrey can think of.

“Hi.” She breathes, running across the street to him as best she can in her heels. 

It takes him a second to respond. “Hi.” He says finally, opening the door for her. “You uh, planning on blinding us all tonight?” He teases, once he slides into the backseat of the uber with her.

Aubrey giggles at the lame joke as she looks down at her glittery skirt. It’s such a lame joke but she’s just so relieved he even made it. That they still have dumb things to laugh over. “Hmm, over-under on how many of us are wearing something sparkly tonight. 10?”

“Over.” Will answers immediately and she giggles again.

The ride doesn’t take long so it’s only a few minutes before they’re pulling up to the club, where they run into Travis Dermott and his girlfriend exiting their uber at the same time. “Nine more.” Will whispers in her ear, as Kat turns to greet them, and they both catch sight of a sparkly tank under her jacket.

“Hush.” Aubrey bites back a laugh, but only barely, before she pulls Kat in for a hug. Inside is about as loud as she’d expected but once they all step upstairs into the VIP section roped off for them, it’s easier to hear, easier to think, and easier to breathe.

Or at least, it is for a moment. She can feel Will’s eyes on her from across the room, where he’s at the bar ordering drinks for the two of them, and she and Kat have gone to say hi to more people.

“So, uh.” Steph says, in lieu of hello. “I don’t think Will’s being weird anymore.”

When Aubrey turns and follows Steph’s eyes, Will’s still looking at her, unashamed in his gaze or getting caught. He winks back at her, grinning when she smiles at him. “No.” She says slowly. “I guess not.” Steph just grins at that, kind of smugly, and Aubrey huffs at that, turning away to greet Morgan and Tessa behind her.

It’s not long before Will returns with drinks, still grinning as he pulls her immediately to the dance floor. He pulls out some of his most ridiculous moves and Aubrey laughs, harder and harder the more she drinks, and then finally falling against him after he and Mitch attempt the Toosie Slide together. 

“Why are you laughing?” Will demands, wrapping an arm around her waist and taking her hand, leading her into some weird kind of slow dance, even as the song changes into something by The Chainsmokers.

“I just like seeing you like this.” She grins.

His brow furrows. “Like what?”

“Just-” She doesn’t know how to explain it. How open he is right now, how loose and easy and warm he looks because he’s just able to be himself, and how happy she feels to be with him, especially when he’s like this. “Just happy, I guess.”

Will grins again and presses a loud kiss to her temple, that she barely has time to giggle at, because he says, “Always happy to be with you,” like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

And Aubrey gasps in shock, but she doesn’t think Will even notices, because he’s dipping her back over his arm right after that and then she’s too busy laughing again.

-----

Steph flops down on the remaining couch seat and ignores the look that Auston sends her in favor of fanning herself with her hand. “Sure.” He says dryly. “I’ll move over a little.”

“Would you? Thanks.” She snickers and he shakes his head fondly at her.

“How about you?” He looks over at Aubrey. “Gonna squish me in the corner even more?”

Aubrey’s already settled herself on his other side, on the edge of the couch. “Nah, I’m good here.” She bumps her shoulder against his.

“Is it even possible to squish you in the corner?” Steph muses.

“Why are you squished in the corner?” Aubrey asks, confused. “What, you couldn’t find a date for New Year’s?”

“I make it a point to not bring dates to holiday parties.” Auston says and Aubrey’s jaw drops.

Steph’s snickering into her palm though, so it’s clear this particular brand of assholery isn’t unfamiliar. “Holidays and events.” She cackles. “Keep those expectations low.”

“Although now that I know that all it takes to make a girl leave is to just have you walk in my house the next morning…” Auston trails off thoughtfully.

Aubrey shoves at his head, ruffling his hair on purpose, but she can’t help but laugh along with him. “Don’t you fucking dare. I’ve got better things to do than that.”

“Like what?” Steph says, too innocently to be real. “Will?”

“I’m leaving.” Aubrey stands, as Steph and Auston both laugh. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

“Is noon good tomorrow?” She hears Auston call after her, while Steph cackles next to him. “How about 12:30?” She flips him off over her shoulder, without looking back, instead pushing her way around Fred and his new girl, to find Will where she’d left him at the bar with Mitch.

But at the bar, she finds only Mitch, who’s looking a little confused. “Where’s Will?” She asks.

“Um.” Is all Mitch says and Aubrey frowns immediately. 

“Mitch, what happened?” Aubrey says flatly and Mitch caves right away.

“I don’t know!” He says. “We were just ordering drinks, watching you guys, everything seemed fine, and next thing I know, he was walking away!”

“Well where did he go?” She asks impatiently, barely waiting for Mitch to point before she’s shoving her way through the crowd.

It feels like she circles the entire building before she finally finds Will, and it’s more like she happens to run into him than she actually finds him, which just annoys her even more, enough that she grabs his hand and pulls him outside to a spot far enough away that it’s quiet enough to talk.

It’s not quiet- it’s still New Year’s Eve and there’s people all around them going up and down the street- but it’s far enough from the door that they can’t feel the music anymore, at least. 

Will’s staring at their hands, still linked, but he’s not saying anything, and even though she’s the one who dragged them out into the cold, he’s the one who started acting weird in the first place, and she feels her annoyance grow. “I thought we were having a really good time tonight?”

Will sighs. “We were.” He pauses. “I was, at least.”

“Ok, I was too.” Aubrey says slowly. “So, what happened?”

Will sighs again. “Look, it’s fine, like this was never supposed to be a thing with us, yeah? I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me. I’ll get over it.”

She’s so confused. “Get over what? Why are you mad?”

“I saw you,” Will says. “Coming out of Auston’s one morning. I was driving past, after practice on my way home.” He shrugs, almost casually, but she can see in his face how hurt he is. “And like, we were never supposed to be a thing.” He repeats and she frowns. Why does he keep saying that? “So I’m not mad at you and I can’t even be mad at him. But I saw you and Matts together and I knew I liked you more than you liked me.” He shrugs again, trying to play off his words as light as casual, but Aubrey’s trying to put the pieces together of what he said. “I know you’d rather be here with him tonight, but that’s why I can’t do this anymore.”

“Oh my god.” She breathes. “You’re so dumb.”

“Hey!” Will protests.

“We’re so dumb.” She corrects, because, really, it’s the truth. “I was at Auston’s that day because he was the only one who knew about us at the time and I needed to talk to someone about if I’m in love with you!”

Will doesn’t move for a second, the longest second of Aubrey’s entire life. “Where, uh, where’d you land on that one?” He asks, like he’s kind of nervous for the answer.

And Aubrey can relate; there are butterflies in her stomach, even though she’s positive she knows how this is going to end now. “Pretty strongly in favor for.” She says and Will beams, that bright smile that lights up his entire face. “I didn’t get to tell you earlier, but I’m always happy to be with you, too.”

“That’s good.” Will says mildly, and Aubrey grins, waiting for the rest. “Because I really love seeing you smile like that.”

Her jaw drops a little. She’s not upset about what he said at all; it’s just so not what she expected him to say. And in that moment of silence, Will grins down at her once more, before leaning down to kiss her.

-----

It’s late the next morning by the time Aubrey tumbles out of bed, yanking a t-shirt of Will’s over her head. Will’s been up for at least an hour already, and she kisses his cheek as she passes, giggling as he lightly pats her ass in return.

“Coffee’s still warm.” He says.

“I still love you.” She teases. “That’s not changing just because you kept the pot warm.” Will flips her off and returns back to the game he’s playing on his Switch. “Have you seen my phone?”

“Near the front door.”

Most of her stuff is still by the front door, thrown hastily down when they’d come in late last night. Her phone’s still got a little battery left, filled with messages from late last night and earlier this morning, but one in particular catches her eye.

Steph LaChance: i told you so 😉

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

Needy

pairing: Kim Namjoon x female reader (guest star Yoongi)

genre: smut, established relationship au

word count: 4.3k | reading time: 20 min

summary: Dating Kim Namjoon comes with its advantages and disadvantages. The later mainly being working so much all you get to see of him is in his studio. But you're a needy bitch. And if you have to get what you want while he works, you will do just that.

warnings: hard dom namjoon, bratty sub reader, cockwarming, daddy kink, dirty talk, degradation, praise, choking, spanking, unprotected sex, oral m.receiving, orgasm denial, studio sex, slight exhibitionism, aka the one where namjoon discovers he likes public sex and exhibitionism.

A/N: Amy=Army=reader because I prefer using a name instead of y/n

Masterlist | Read on AO3

Time slipping closer to the comeback dates meant missing-your-boyfriend hours grew more frequent. You never complained, just like he didn't either, but you were clingy by nature and finding any way to be even in the same room as Namjoon had become your top priority. At first, sleeping in his arms at night was enough. In about a week it became apparent that waking hours were paramount, so you started joining him for lunch. No matter how short and rushed it had to be. But the more he worked on the group's comeback, the less attention he could pay, always distracted and keeping your interactions to small talk. Eating with him wasn't sating your hunger anymore.

"I'm sorry, baby," he would say when he would realize you had been talking this whole time.

You honestly didn't mind. Simply wanted to be by his side. "It's okay, sweetie. Everything alright?"

He sighed and caressed your hand laying on the table. "I just miss you. I have to stay to work extra hours again and I won't see you again and I miss you. That's all."

You replicated his small, soft smile. "I can stay with you. I'll bring my laptop and we can both work together. That way we won't be alone."

Namjoon smirked. "You know I can't concentrate with you in the room," he declared with a low tone in his voice and slightly squeezed your hand.

Suddenly, you were fighting a smile on your lips while your eyes raced to the floor as if you were too shy to face your own boyfriend. Then you pouted. "No, we'll just work. I will be working too, I'll be so quiet, you won't even know I'm there."

And so you did. You took the small couch while he had his back to you, working on his computer. The sound of both of your keyboards was filling the room, along with the slight whispers of the music playing through Namjoon's headphones. It was after-hours and they went by mostly uninterrupted, except for the occasional visit by a manager or a member –usually the rappers– to deliver some type of message. The boys would smile softly at the sight of you, and you replied with a raise of your shoulders to state the obvious.

"Can I sit on your lap?" You asked Namjoon once after you had given up on your work and were battling falling asleep on that comfortable couch while you waited for him to call it a day, or more accurately, a night.

He pulled his headphones to the side and turned to look at you. "My lap?"

You nodded. "I'll just sit there and you can work."

"Don't you want to work?"

"No, I want to be in your arms."

He bit his bottom lip. He eyed you up and down and then looked at his monitor. He knew it wasn't a good idea, but he figured he would just sound like a straight douche if he declined cuddle offers from his girlfriend, after she had been patiently putting up with him distancing for the past few weeks. So he turned back to you and patted his lap.

"Okay, hop on, kitty. But if you don't sit quietly, you'll be in trouble."

You had to bite back that shy smile again. Namjoon was asking you to sit quietly yet just by the way he asked, he made you crave that trouble he promised. But no, you were a good girl. You didn't want to disturb his work, it would only stress him out more. You straddled his lap and huddled on his chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible so as not to restrict his movements in the least. You felt his big hand stroking your hair as you planted your head on his left shoulder, your nose close to his neck, tickling him with your warm breath. Before you knew it, you were asleep.

So now you almost didn't even bother pretending to work on that laptop of yours. Since Namjoon had been convinced that you could sit on his lap without causing trouble, and you had discovered how easy it was to relax when you were wrapped around him like that, you basically jumped in his lap right after you two settled in his studio. Namjoon played with your hair or gently squeezed the softer parts of your body every time he paused to think. He found it helped him work even better. His own little stress relief toy.

"Oh- uh… Sorry- um…" Yoongi squealed when he walked into the studio and saw the two of you tangled like so.

Namjoon turned to face the older member and simply shook his head. "Oh, she's just sleeping," he whispered.

Yoongi now opened the door more widely and stood up straighter to take a better look at you. "Oh…" he exhaled with a smile. "Like that?"

"Yeah… she can't stay away from me."

"Cute…"

At that, you decided to lift your head and look at Yoongi's general direction. "I'm awake!" you stated loudly then immediately dropped your head back down.

The other man chuckled slightly before he informed Namjoon on something about their manager, this and that, and left. Anyone walking into the studio was met with what appeared like an adorable scene that they quickly became accustomed to, and even your boyfriend seemed to think completely innocently of it now. Which meant you were the only one quietly suffering because of his cologne and the warmth of his crotch under yours.

You tried to sit there quietly. You tried to fall asleep. But it had been days since you and Namjoon had done anything other than work, and that promised trouble was becoming more and more appealing. You circled your fingertips at the base of his neck, contemplating whether you should grid yourself on him to get him to fuck you on that desk as a punishment, or be a good girl so that you don't lose your lap privileges.

But you wanted more than your lap privileges. You truly were so clingy, it wasn't enough that you were sitting on him like that; you wanted to feel more of him. You bit your lip and controlled yourself, catching your breath on purpose so that he wouldn't notice it had gotten heavier and warmer on his neck. You could practically hear his deep voice vibrating something like "you little minx" in case you exposed yourself, which in turn made your struggles even harder.

You squirming on his lap was probably registered as you squirming in your sleep by your boyfriend. Indeed, you kept your eyes tightly closed to play the role, too. You swallowed, again and again, excess saliva flooding your mouth from all the dirty thoughts passing your mind, like a dog dreaming of a delicious meal. But you stayed put. You sat quietly, just like he had asked. Because you were a good girl and you knew you would be awarded for that eventually.

"Baby…" you whispered with a pout in your lips. Today you had worn a skirt and as you sat on Namjoon's lap, the only thing covering your heat was your lace panties. Today you would get that award you craved the whole week. "Namjoon, baby…" you whined again to get your boyfriend's attention.

He looked at you with wide eyes, pausing whatever he was doing and sliding his headphones off. "What's that, kitten?"

Your eyes dropped down as your fingers played with the hem of his shirt. "I–" you gulped, "I want you inside me."

You heard nothing, no reaction. So you looked up again and Namjoon was just staring at you. "You know we can't do that here, kitten…"

You bounced slightly on his lap in protest. Luckily for you, you found out your boyfriend had already started to get hard under you. So you continued. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself on him, making him suck in a breath.

"Ohh... I'm not asking for anything too much. I just want you inside me."

"Inside you?"

You nodded. "Yes, yes. I just want to feel you. Can you just… just put it inside me?"

Namjoon laughed. "Baby, if I put it inside you there is no way it won't lead to something more…"

But you shook your head frantically. For good measure, you ground yourself on him, too. "No, no, I promise! I won't even move. I'll just go right to sleep like I do every day. You know, you've seen how quietly I can sit like that. You can trust me, right?"

Namjoon bit his bottom lip aggressively as he watched you act all innocent and cute while talking about putting his dick in you. He took one too many seconds to answer, so you took the initiative to move your hands to his pants and unbutton them. His hands grabbed your hips. Not to stop you. Just to hold you forcefully as he processed what was happening.

"So you– you want to do… cockwarming?"

In response, you took one of his hands and guided it under your skirt, to your already wet core. His fingers felt your arousal through the lace. Suddenly, all signs of demur disappeared from his face.

"Hm, does your little hole feel empty without me, kitten? You want me to fill you up?"

You bit your lip as you nodded, your hands moving again to completely undo his pants and pull them down just a bit. You palmed him through his boxers and his fingers massaged your clit over your panties. You pulled his dick out and saw how it sprang up, almost to full hardness already. Quickly, you spat on your hand a generous amount and used that to pump him up and down a few times. Namjoon groaned and pushed your panties away, two fingers teasing at your entrance.

"Do you need prepping? Or can you take my cock as it is?" he asked you as he slipped his two fingers easily in.

"Namjoon," you moaned his name quietly. "Don't get me too horny, just put your dick inside me." He raised his eyebrows at your commanding attitude. "Unless you don't want me to be good," you added with a raised eyebrow of your own.

Chuckling, he pulled his fingers out and grabbed your hips again. He guided you over his dick. "Alright, kitten. Sit on that cock and don't. Move."

You sank, taking him in inch by inch, the thickness stretching you out so much it burned. You allowed yourself to moan out as quietly as you could, still struggling to fit all of him inside you. Namjoon kept a hand on your hips to guide you down, while the other caressed the side of your head.

"That's right," he praised you. "Take all of me, baby. I know you can."

With his encouraging words, you took a deep breath and moved down until your pussy had swallowed him whole, his head now nudging at your cervix.

"There, there… that's great," Namjoon cooed. He brushed his palm over your cheek and made you look at him. "How does this feel?"

"Oh, it feels good…" you said, dragging out the last word while letting your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your boyfriend gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead.

"So, did you get what you wanted, kitten?"

"Mm, yes, daddy, thank you," you moaned.

His thumb ran over your lips and he pinched your chin. You opened your eyes to look at him. "Now… will you sit there quietly and let me do my job?"

You nodded lazily. "Yes. Yes, daddy, I will."

Namjoon smiled and gave you a quick peck. He looked down, pushing your skirt out and adjusting it so that it covered both of you up. He put his headphones back on and you, just like you promised, laid your head on his shoulder again and sat there quietly. Your position ultimately not changing at all and it still seemed very sinless, with the only exception that you were now so deliciously full and finally sated.

You tried to calm your breathing down. You clenched and unclenched around him involuntarily and he released a warning groan in response. It was hard to stay still at first, but once you got used to his length stretching your walls, it was surprisingly relaxing. He was big and warm and the most comfortable thing you had experienced in your life. You had never felt closer to your boyfriend than at that moment. You loved it in a very possessive way.

From now on this would be the only seat you'd ever take.

Namjoon loved it too. He didn't expect you to actually sit still, secretly wanted you to act out so that he could teach you a lesson afterwards. But now you looked as peaceful as a baby breastfeeding. It was funny how something so dirty made you look so chaste, and how that in return made you look, well... hot. He sighed. He really didn't think he would be the one having trouble controlling himself. Your pussy was moving slightly around him every time you squirmed, and he felt every single thing. Yet you had managed to drift into a light sleep, your cheek pressed on his collarbone, your lips apart, your breaths long and warm on his neck.

So pretty… So cute. Namjoon would make sure to fuck you so well when you two got home.

"Hey, Namjoon!"

Namjoon jumped right as the studio door opened wide. He hands quickly grabbed your hips, ready to push you away and pretend nothing was happening.

"Oh, is she sleeping?" Yoongi whispered and walked closer to them.

Namjoon froze. He looked down, your skirt was still covering you up. Then he looked at the other man. He seemed blissfully unaware of what was going on in there.

And that, for some reason, made Namjoon's dick throb.

"Um, ye-yeah."

"Heh, she's so cute when she sleeps on you like that."

Namjoon bit the inside of his cheek hard. His hips moved forward on their own accord, pushing further inside you so slightly that the moment went by unnoticed. But not by you. A tiny whine echoed from your throat.

"Hm, yes. What's up?" he answered, his voice husky.

Yoongi started talking, but if Namjoon were to be honest with himself, he didn't hear a thing he said. All he could register was his dick getting even harder while your pussy got tighter around him. He tried to stay still as he stared forcefully into his friend's eyes. What if he realised?

God, the thought alone made him suck in a deep breath.

"Okay?" Yoongi's voice was barely made out inside the younger's foggy head. But he managed to nod. "Can you do that for me?"

"Hyung..." Namjoon sighed. Just as Yoongi frowned at his friend's odd voice, you moved around, clinging closer to Namjoon, cutting off his oxygen supply completely. "Yes! Yes, I will!" he literally choked out.

The other rapper gave him an up and down and Namjoon would never dare admit how his eyes on the two of you made his stomach shrink. But he would admit to how he felt ready to combust and if you weren't left alone within the next thirty seconds, he would no longer care about details such as privacy.

"Cool," Yoongi mumbled, moving back towards the door yet still facing you. "Thanks, man. I owe you one."

The moment the door clicked closed, Namjoon gasped hard, taking in all the air he was missing. His hands -still on your hips- held you tighter, tight enough to leave bruises, as he panted and moved his hips slowly into you.

"Stop pretending you're sleeping," he demanded. A couple of seconds of silence passed, and then he felt your lips gently land on his neck in a small kiss, trying to play innocent. He snorted. "You–"

"Everything okay, daddy?" you asked in the purest voice you could master.

"No!" he exclaimed, dropping his head back on his chair. He thrust up as much as he could, but since he was already buried to the brim, there wasn't much space to move. "No, I'm not okay!" he growled. You immediately bit your lip, pulling your head away so that you could finally face him. He leaned slightly forward but the moment his eyes fell on you, his head hit his chair again. "Move!"

"But, daddy, you–"

"Fuck, Amy, if you don't– move!"

His hands pushed you slightly off him, and he immediately thrust into you. Hard. You had no choice but to cry out. Another thrust and you felt like you couldn't hold yourself up anymore, falling on his chest and clinging to him desperately.

"Nam-" you tried to talk, but the man had found his position and was drilling into you at a never before seen speed. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and all you could do was have your jaw hung open and a moan escape freely with every hit on your spot. He was animalistic, growling and groaning loudly with no regards to the public building you were in, and most importantly, without even noticing your attempts to slow him down. You pushed your palms on his shoulders, trying to lift yourself, but in response, he just bit down on your neck and made you moan harder.

This... This is exactly what you wanted. Wasn't it?

"Namjoon, the door is unlocked," you managed to whisper while he was licking your neck up and down aggressively. He just hummed in response. At least he heard your voice. "What if somebody comes in?"

Your boyfriend moaned. He slowed down, his right hand leaving your hip to move higher up, ruffling your shirt, squeezing your breast and wrapping around your throat. You gasped right as he tightened his grip.

"Let them see," Namjoon mumbled. His grip around your throat tightened even more and his hips picked up the pace again. But now, you had no way of making any sound other than choking. Namjoon moaned louder. "Oh, let them watch."

He finally let you breathe and right away he crushed his lips to yours, pulling you deep down on his dick and grinding inside you. You had never seen this side of him before and you couldn't help but drip arousal around his base. Just seeing how into it he seemed to be made you get closer to your climax.

"Bounce on my cock, you slut. Isn't this what you wanted from the beginning?" your boyfriend growled in your ear and you whined, immediately obeying. Jumping up and down.

"Daddy..." you moaned for his attention, getting closer and closer.

A hard slap on your right butt cheek. "Faster. Do it how you know you wanted it." Another slap.

Leaning forward you found a new momentum to slide up and down his dick faster, and his breathing instantly changed. You looked up through your lashes at him, gawking at his expression, face hot with coy and pride.

"Like that, daddy?"

He groaned, staring right into your eyes. "So needy," he mumbled. "Such a desperate slut, constantly wanting praise. Is that what you want, baby? For me to praise you?"

You almost missed your rhythm due to the effect his words had on you. "Da... Daddy..." was all you could say.

He held you from the ass, helping you move since you were so close to cumming it was getting hard. "Hm? You want me to praise that warm, wet pussy of yours that takes my dick so well?" You had to moan. "So well-" he repeated, "-that I can't resist it?"

"Daddy, I'm gonna-"

"You fuck me so well, baby. Hm, is that what you want me to say?" Namjoon continued teasing. "You're so good..."

"I'm gonna cum!"

Suddenly, you were empty. Namjoon had pulled out of you and pushed you away.

"Oh no, baby. You don't get to cum."

Your mouth dropped open, the sweat that glistened all over your face probably evaporating at how hot it suddenly got. "Wh- what?"

The man in front of you gave you the most shit-eating grin you had seen in a while. He got up from the chair and stood in front of you. "What? You really thought you would be rewarded with an orgasm after everything you pulled?"

You pouted. "But..."

Namjoon held your chin gently and smiled down at you smugly. "You've been too naughty, sweetness. Now, if you get on your knees for me, I might make you cum when we get home."

You bit your lips so hard it hurt. "Daddy..." you whined in the most seductive voice you had in you, giving him your big, puppy eyes. But he just released your chin and raised his eyebrows.

"On. Your. Knees."

Gulping, you lowered yourself down. If Namjoon said knees then knees it would be. You looked up at him and he sighed heavily at the attractive sight.

"Now, open up for me, baby."

You opened your mouth and drew your tongue out as far as you could, which seemed to please him a lot. Grabbing his dick at the base, he ran his head over your tongue. Getting desperate again, you closed your lips around him and sucked the head. That earned you a hiss. His fingers were suddenly all in your hair, his head fallen back, as he picked up right where he had left. He pushed the first couple of inches of his dick in and out of you fast until you were used to it and you swallowed more of him in. You couldn't take all of him, but you didn't need to: the tightness of the back of your mouth was all Namjoon needed to feel from you.

"Oh, God…" Namjoon moaned and you knew the moment the atheist started to call out to God, was the moment he was getting close. You grabbed his hips to halt his thrusts and instead just suck. Suck him hard enough to slurp his own soul if he had one. Hard enough to swallow his warm cum right as it was released down your throat.

You opened up your mouth with a satisfied "ah" to show him it was empty. Namjoon smiled and fell back on his chair, exhausted. Knowing you needed to be as good as you could in order to be rewarded afterwards, you gently tucked him back in his trousers while still on your knees, looking at him proudly.

"Did I make you feel good?"

Namjoon chuckled, ruffling his hair. "I swear all you ever–"

A knock on the door followed but a member right away. "Hey, Namjoon-ah, when-"

You both turned with dread to look at the door, finding a mortified Yoongi standing to it. His wide eyes moved from the fucked out looking man on the chair, to the girl on her knees in front of him, and he very wisely decided to disappear behind the closed door again without a word.

"Ah, shit…" Namjoon mumbled, but you just laughed.

"You know, he's probably still waiting for that translation," you said, which made your boyfriend look at you puzzlingly.

"What translation?"

You bit your bottom lip to prevent you from laughing again. "Babe! Earlier… he said he e-mailed you some lyrics he wanted you to translate to English. You said you'd do it."

His face scrunched up to the saddest 'oh' you had seen. "I h– I didn't– I..."

You showed your teeth in an 'oopsie' way. "Oh, well... At least now he knows what took so long."

Namjoon moved off the chair and pulled you up with him. "I need to– I mean, I should probably talk to him. I don't know, say it wasn't what it looked like? Would that sound believable?"

You chuckled again, getting on your tippy-toes to try and fix his hair. "Looking like that? Not so much."

Namjoon looked at his reflection on the black screen of his computer to fix what he could. "You should go home, baby. I'll stay here to make this right."

"What? No, but you promised to make me cum when we get home," you whined like the spoiled brat you were.

But your boyfriend grabbed your jacket, waiting for you to wear it. "Yeah, but that was before you got me in trouble, you brat."

You pouted. "No, I'm not going."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed your arms to push them through your jacket sleeves. "Get home now, Amy, before I change my mind and not let you cum at all."

You were ready to throw a tantrum, but as you were guided toward the door, you just turned and looked at him very seriously. "Namjoon, I swear to you, if you let me go now I'll find a better way of getting myself off tonight," you threatened.

But he laughed. "Oh, okay. Tell me, do you wanna go apologize to Yoongi perhaps?"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Perhaps. At least he'd let me cum, wouldn't he?" you commented as you opened the door and were ready to leave. But Namjoon slammed it closed again. His arms caged you against it as he loomed over you.

"I have a better idea. You go home right now, undress, get in bed and wait for me without touching yourself at all, like a good girl, and I'll make you cum until you beg me to stop," Namjoon whispered darkly. You seemed to consider it. "There is no alternative, sweetness. You'll do as I tell you."

So you smiled. You gave him a little kiss on the cheek and agreed. Well, at least he thought you did. Because you were definitely going to disobey him by touching yourself back home until you had wet your bed waiting for him. Waiting for the punishment he'd come up with then...

[spencersawkward]

hi i love your writing sm, could u do something w having sex w mgg in his trailer🦋

oh yes i can most definitely do that. i just did a blurb that included something similar but i have a whole other fantasy for this one that i think would be so hot. this is just like filthy smut i might have done a lil too much lol.

summary: reader goes to visit her friend, Matthew, on set. when he catches her doing something dirty in his trailer, he offers to help.

word count: 4.2k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, masturbation, dirty talk, face-sitting, degradation, Cocky Matthew, some semi-exhibitionism.

masterlist

my toes curl over the sheets and I let out a dissatisfied groan as I throw the abandoned vibrator onto the side table. ever since flying home from visiting friends in New York, I’ve been absolutely, embarrassingly... horny.

usually, my trusty toy is able to work wonders; this week has been rough, though. maybe it’s something to do with my stress-levels or maybe my body just doesn’t feel like cooperating. it doesn’t help that I have about an hour before I’m scheduled to visit my friend on the set of his show.

I haven’t seen Matthew in almost a year. between his shooting schedule and my own job getting more demanding, spending time together really hasn’t been possible. I miss his laugh and the way our conversations always flow so easily. whenever we hang out, it’s like we pick up right where we left off. and now, as I give up on trying to get one off before seeing him, I start to wonder what to expect. a tour? meeting his castmates?

to be completely honest, I don’t really want to do any of that. I’m sure they’re all very nice people and we’d have a good time, but the last week in the city was so full of group interactions that I’m really hoping to sit across from each other and just... talk.

there’s no point in speculating, though. instead, I glance over at my disappointing toy and sigh. maybe next time.

when I get there, Matthew texts me to wait for him so he can bring me to his trailer. everyone is bustling around, moving according to their own chaotic schedules. a couple golf carts occasionally roll through the space, toting actors and other personnel. it’d be overwhelming for anyone who isn’t used to it.

“Y/N!” Matthew’s voice cuts across the din of the set as he waves. he’s leaning out of the side of a golf cart that he’s driving, which makes me nervous as he pulls up to me. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as he stops the cart and hops out to wrap me in a hug.

he smells good, like expensive cologne and cool air. as he withdraws, he sets his hands on my shoulders and grins at me.

“you look great! how are you?” as usual, he’s talkative. I smile back, though, and take in his appearance. he’s always been handsome, but right now Matthew is looking especially good: the breeze has swept his curls, he’s got on a colorful button-up short-sleeve with parakeets on it, and there’s some stubble growing on his face that’s new. he looks older, more mature.

kind of sexy.

“I’m really well. cool ride you’ve got.” I nod to the golf cart and Matthew laughs.

“you wanna know a secret?” he smirks. I raise my eyebrows and he leans down a little to reach my height. “I’m not supposed to drive that.”

“how’d you get it?” I frown. knowing him, he probably managed to charm his way around the rules, but I’m sure there’s a funny story behind it as well. he’s full of weird anecdotes.

“one of my cast mates distracted the guy who runs the warehouse where they keep them.” he winks, then gestures for me to follow him. I slide into the passenger seat and before I can really process what’s happening, he’s swerving in a wide circle and speeding off.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he practically yells over the sound of the motor. “but I know you’ve been busy.”

“yeah, I actually just started writing for this new show.”

“you’re downtown, then?” he glances over with a smile and then we’re slowing to a stop. an enormous trailer sits among rows of other enormous trailers, presumably for his cast mates. he turns off the cart and turns his body to face me while I talk. zeroes in on me in a way that makes my stomach flip.

“for right now, yeah.” I can’t help the smile. it’s been a while since I’ve worked in Los Angeles; I was working as a writer on one of Matthew’s independent films when I got an offer in New York and decided to relocate. and even though it was amazing there, I missed California sunshine and I missed him. we were inseparable before I left.

“so, what I’m hearing is that you’re now legally bound to hang out with me.” he grins in that dazzling way of his. I laugh and nod, climbing out when he does. he opens the trailer door for me. “I have to go back to work in about twenty minutes, but afterwards I wanna take you to dinner.”

“oh, I could have come later. I’m sorry.” I turn to apologize, but he’s quick to wave it off.

“it’s fine. as long as you don’t mind spending an hour in here, it shouldn’t be too torturous.”

I peer around the space, noticing the little ways in which Matthew has made this place his own: aside from all the complimentary gift baskets and notes, the trailer is occupied by strange trinkets that he’s collected, random books and notebooks that scatter the couch and what looks like an attempt at a desk.

“wow.” I say. he sidles up next to me, sighing and realizing that it’s a bit cluttered.

“sorry about the mess. I haven’t really had time to clean up.”

“no, no, I meant ‘wow’ in a good way.” I walk over to the couch and sit down, patting the spot next to me. he smiles, pushes an acting theory book out of the way, and sinks into the cushions a safe distance from me.

“tell me about this job, then.” he immediately starts. I shrug.

“it’s nothing huge, just a teen drama. everyone I work with is brilliant, though.”

“that’s amazing. have you had a chance to work on your art?”

I think back to all the times when Matthew and I would spend free afternoons doing doodle competitions of the crew, usually on random scripts. they were judged by other cast mates, anyone who would take the time to look. I don’t think I was supposed to be on set as much as I was, but it was worth it.

“I wish. my schedule is so busy now, I barely have time to make dinner for myself.” I laugh. he leans back into the corner of the couch, resting his arm on top of the back. I pull one leg beneath me and mirror his actions.

“that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing some new stuff.”

“I don’t think any of my co-workers would particularly enjoy the representations I do of them.”

“sour sports.” he says. the strangeness and vehemence of the sentiment makes me snort and I glance at the notebooks around the room.

“how about you? any new masterpieces?”

we go on like this for a while, just catching up and slipping into our inside jokes and memories as if they aren’t from a different time in our lives. although I was excited to see him today, there was a lingering nervousness about it going as planned. sometimes you try to reconnect and the spark is just... gone. but Matthew is still Matthew, and I’m still me.

he ends up leaving to go shoot sooner than I can believe, time passing quickly, and tells me to feel free to read any of his books or look through his sketchbooks. he never hides anything, and it’s admirable.

once he’s gone, I settle onto the couch with a used Ray Bradbury anthology that I found beneath a bag of sour candies and start to read.

my mind wanders, however, as I try to concentrate on the page. I think about how Matthew looks now, how the stubble makes his jaw even more defined. those wide, hazel eyes that always seem to glitter with enthusiasm. I don’t know if I’m still frustrated from the unsuccessful session with my vibrator earlier, but the thoughts begin to turn over in my mind and mingle with other ones.

there were moments with him that I remember, quiet ones where we’d be about to say goodnight or moments where he’d fall asleep on my shoulder in my apartment, where I’d look at him and consider the possibility. we get on so well, and he’s arguably one of my best friends. distance hasn’t changed that. there are things I would tell him that I haven’t told my other friends.

and when he’d brush against my skin, or grab my arm to get my attention, and my imagination would run wild. heated kisses and closed doors. finding the way to my bed in the dark, his hands on my waist while he crawls on top of me. things that never happened but that I imagined as if they were real memories seared into my mind.

and now, sitting in this trailer with this book and on this couch that smells like him, those feelings return like something lost, then found: rushing, feverish, overpowering. the images come in a flux, his weight on top of mine and his teeth dragging over my tits. on this couch, that’s all I want.

there’s a blush on my cheeks as I drop the book on the floor and undo the button on my pants. it won’t take me long; I can feel how wet I’m getting and I haven’t even thought that much about it. the pent-up excitement from earlier will overtake my senses. he said I have an hour, and this might take ten minutes tops.

as my fingertips brush over my panties, I close my eyes and imagine they’re his. curious, gentle, teasing before reaching below the waistband and cupping me. I whimper, starting to trace over the wet folds of my entrance with an eager hand. it feels good, right, and the heat of my body tells me that this time, it’ll work. my head is full of thoughts of him, and I dip a finger in, clenching around the digits. the heel of my palm presses into my clit and I moan, starting to work myself.

I imagine Matthew coming in here after he’s done and kissing me like he’s wasted enough time waiting; like he can’t wait another second to be with me. my pace quickens at the memory of his hands, veined and strong and sure, pumping into me. taunting me.

“Matthew...” I whine, removing my fingers to circle my clit with a hurried pressure. every second burns across my skin, reminding me that what I’m doing is wrong. I shouldn’t be touching myself in his trailer while he works, especially not when he’s coming back soon.

but it’s hot, too, and the rhythm I create is impossible to resist. I switch between fingering and toying with my bundle of nerves while clenching my free hand in the couch cushion. my eyes are squeezed shut as I get closer to orgasm, the knot in my stomach tightening with every moment.

“o-oh my god,” I hum. “Matthew--”

the sharp intake of breath makes my entire body freeze. my eyes fly open to see the bastard himself standing there, lips parted. he can’t seem to figure out where to look: my face, which was just contorted in pleasure while I moaned his name, or my pussy, which is almost completely on display now that I’ve managed to push my jeans down to my knees.

“oh my god.” I stutter, immediately removing my hand and sitting up. my cheeks are on fire and everything around me seems surreal. this can’t be real. “y-you weren’t supposed to be back for an hour.” I say stupidly. shit ton of luck that hour did me.

“we, uh, wrapped early.” he averts his eyes, then glances cautiously at my face. “I promise I walked in here before I knew. I never meant--”

“no, it’s fine.” I pull up my jeans, still too shocked to make any sweeping movements. he doesn’t seem quite sure what to do with himself, and I speak to break the silence. “sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wonder what you’d have done with an actual hour.” he says it like he’s attempting to lighten the mood, then winces as he realizes that he shouldn’t have said that. “sorry, bad joke. I’m just-- surprised.”

“Matthew, I’m so sorry--” I start. there’s literally no other direction to take this conversation. I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship within the span of a few seconds.

“were you saying my name?” he asks, eyebrows slightly raised. I would like to sink into the floor and never come up again, I think.

“well, the thing is--” I take a deep breath. “I don’t normally, um... do that in people’s trailers?” my frown makes him smile a little as he relaxes. now that I’m fully clothed, he doesn’t seem so daunted. I scoot up on the couch and glance between the open spot and him to get him to sit. standing only makes it weirder.

he obliges, watching me pull my knees into my chest before I start to explain. guilt is building in my chest now, so much more real after being caught.

“I don’t wanna make this even more awkward than it is, but I feel like I should make it clear that there’s a reason why I was doing it in here and I’m not some freak who, like, contaminates people’s space. like, I was just gonna be super quick about it and be done because-- and now I’m justifying it, which is even worse--”

“hey, Y/N, relax.” Matthew reaches out and touches my wrist, his fingers soft as they pull my attention to his. when I finally muster the courage to look him in the eyes, he’s got a small smile on his face. “I’m not mad or anything.”

“okay.” I sigh, spine going a little less rigid.

“you were moaning my name, though, right?” he smirks. my eyes widen.

“don’t get too cocky,” I try to play it off. “I haven’t been able to get off for the past few days and I only tried it to see if it would work.”

“looks like it did.” he glances between my flushed cheeks and the hand that was playing with myself, which is now sitting on my jeans. how is he being so fucking smooth right now?

“whatever.” I turn my face away, knowing that anything else would be damning.

“are you still... frustrated?” he asks. his voice is low. my face snaps up, jaw dropping. one of his hands is covering the crotch of his jeans, trying to hide something.

“why?”

“I can help you out. only if you want to, of course.” he says this in complete seriousness. my gaze passes over his features once again to make sure I’m not absolutely dreaming. every line in his face, the intensity of those pretty irises, feels too real to be fake.

“like...” I think about his hands, about what he’s offering. it’s heavier than just sex, but also maybe not. it doesn’t have to be; we’re adults. our friendship wouldn’t be shattered by one encounter.

“like I’ll eat you out right now and fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” we’ve moved closer on the couch, our faces inches apart while he says it so quietly that I wouldn’t hear it otherwise. the way he licks his lips, stares at me, tells me that we’ve already passed the point of no return. there’s no use in holding back anymore.

“mhmm.” I nod. if I say anything more, I’ll reveal more than he wants to know. that I’ve wanted this for a while, even though I tried to forget the way he makes me feel.

“come here, then.” he beckons me forward and I impatiently crash my lips to his. he responds immediately, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling me to him. he’s greedy, but not in a way that overwhelms. like he’s trying to enjoy the moment. his nose brushes my cheek when he deepens the kiss, my hands looping around his neck. he begins to bite on my lower lip, tugging to get me to moan. I let him explore me, those features that he’s seen so many times but has never touched.

we’re hopeful in our embrace, and my mind feels like spring and how I imagine the earth feels when it’s in full bloom. excitement in my veins as we get more heated. when his fingers unbutton my jeans, he pulls away to take a moment.

“sit on my face.” he breathes out, feverish. I nod, getting up to shrug off my jeans. he watches, licking his lips when I pull down my panties and step out of them, then take off my top and bra. he leans back as if to sink down onto the couch for me, but I shake my head.

“take off your clothes first.” I tell him.

“you wanna see me naked?” he knows the truth, but wants me to say it. the smirk on his face makes me annoyingly aroused. I just start to go for the buttons on his shirt.

“yeah, I wanna see you naked.” I reply. this makes him grin and he helps me out by working on his jeans. we strip him down and then we’re both there, looking at each other.

“c’mere, beautiful.” he grabs my hip and pulls me closer until I get on the couch and position myself. he lies down flat, gesturing for me to scoot up his chest until my core is right above his face. “perfect.”

I’m about to poke a little fun at him for being so confident when he reaches up, wraps his hands around my thighs, and pulls me down against his face.

I yelp, overwhelmed by how he moans against my heat and starts to eat me out. his tongue moves expertly, lapping at the wetness that’s gathered between my legs before teasing my entrance. I release a series of noises that are downright sinful, but the red marks he’s leaving in my thighs tell me he’s loving my reaction. his nose brushes against my clit and I start to roll my hips against his face, falling apart already as he switches between sucking, licking, and sliding his tongue inside me. I grip onto his hair, mumbling like a prayer.

he takes the opportunity to quickly slap my ass before returning to my thighs, burying his face and working with a divine acuity. I can’t believe how good it feels, throwing my head back and arching my spine while I hold my tits. Matthew moves my hand and massages one while he stares up into my eyes, lust evident in every sound and motion.

“Matthew, please--” I gasp. “don’t stop.”

he groans, running his nails down my stomach while I ride his face. I’m needy for him, only uttering his name and more pleas for his tongue. and the sensation of him holding me down like he can’t get enough makes the knot from earlier return easily. I lean back a little, swirl my hips, and then it comes like a white-hot wave.

“oh my god—“ I can barely get it out, moving with abandon. “it’s so fucking good.”

he lets my body slow to a reasonable pace, drawing out the high until I’m swallowing all the air I can get and pull myself away from him. Matthew’s grinning, mouth glistening while he sits up a bit.

“such a wet little pussy.” he tells me, licking his lips. I’m pretty much resting on his chest and I start to move off of him when he quickly straightens himself, wraps his arms around my waist, and pushes me so I’m laying on my back at the other end of the couch with him leaning over me.

I brush his curls out of his face, appreciating the hunger in his face. he craves more of me, and the erection he’s pressing into my inner thigh is proof. I look up at him.

“you’re good.” I concede. he shrugs, smiles. butterflies.

“I just think about it a lot.” the response is simple, but it’s the right one. I blush and he grabs his dick, pumping it a few times before lining it up at my entrance. I search his eyes, those widened pupils, as he shoves into me.

“shit.” he moans, jaw dropping once he’s reaching the hilt. “give it to me, baby.” I can feel him deep inside, cock twitching against my walls as he settles. one of his arms is over me, supporting himself on the arm of the couch, while the other holds my waist.

I don’t speak, only bite down on my lip and whimper through the initial shocks of him. it isn’t until he pulls out that I get more vocal. he starts to roll his hips, never breaking eye contact while I arch my back and moan.

“harder.” I whisper. he tightens his grip on me and slams himself inside. my body instinctively moves up away from the pressure, but he brings me right back down.

“is this what you were thinking about?” he breathes out. “me fucking you like a slut?”

I nod urgently, but he uses an index finger to tilt my face back to his.

“tell me who you belong to, little slut.” his tone is low, laced with lust when he bites his lip and watches my reactions to his cock.

“you.” I whine quietly, grabbing his shoulders for stability while he plows into me.

“louder, sweetheart. you were plenty sure before.” he mocks, pausing after to moan in my ear like he’s absolutely losing it. he roughly tugs me further against him and the sensation makes me cry out.

“y-you-- fuck!”

“c’mon, baby.” he pants. we’re definitely rocking this trailer with the way he’s ramming my body right now. I can feel him like he’s in my ribs.  

“Matthew, oh god--”

“show me how you cum, Y/N. lemme see you fucking break.” the final word is punctuated by him bottoming-out within me, his noises their own stimulation to my senses. I’m trying to breathe but it’s so hard with all the thoughts firing in my brain. he doesn’t go easy on me.

“I’m cumming.” my hips jerk up into his, pussy fluttering like it’s trying to push him out. but the tension only makes him thrust harder, further, chasing his own release as I claw at his back and squeeze my legs around his torso.

“can I fill that tight little cunt up, baby?” he moans into my ear, our bodies like undulating waves. I nod and buck against him, which drives him mad as his thrusts get sloppier. we’re filthy together and it’s otherworldly. “good girl.”

he lets out a whimpering sound while he stills inside my body and cums. I feel him twitching, shooting his load into me. I’m writhing while I clench around him, both of us falling apart. for all his cockiness, he’s lovely when he’s orgasming-- mouth open, eyes rolling back into his head before focusing intently on my face, a sheen of sweat that glows on his cheekbones.

when he finally withdraws, leaving me naked and panting on his couch, his eyes run over my body appreciatively.

“that help?” he smirks as he straightens. I glare at him, kneeing him in the ribs, and he leans down to kiss my cheek, giving me a tender look. “I’m joking. are you okay?”

“more than okay.” I smile. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, closing and opening his mouth as if debating whether or not to say something else.

“you’re really beautiful, you know that?”

“thanks.” as if this man hasn’t already fucked me senseless, I blush, look away shyly. he grabs my clothes from the floor and hands them to me.

“do you want some water?” he’s worried about giving me space. there’s a question lingering between us that I’m afraid to ask, especially now that he hasn’t. Matthew has always been the more bold between the two of us.

“uh, sure.” if it means he takes his eyes off me long enough for me to regain my bearings, yes. I watch him pull on the rest of his clothes before standing and going over to his mini-fridge. I’ll need to clean up soon.

“so...” his voice is measured, hazel eyes slipping over my form.

“so.”

“dinner? and then breakfast?” he suggests. my eyebrows raise at the second question, one that he hasn’t mentioned until now. the implication makes me laugh.

“you think you’re getting this again?” I try to act nonchalant, as if I’m not already imagining it.

“oh, wait--” he frowns, hesitates. “that’s not what I meant.”

“what did you mean?” there’s a grin taking over my face, hopeful as I await his response. I guess we’re about to answer that question after all.

“I wanna finally take you on a date.” he smiles softly, surprisingly shy. I don’t even hesitate to answer.

“I’m in.”

[ynisamenace]

Headcanons for Tamaki, Bakugou and Eraserhead being in a relationship with dom! black reader

a/n: hi guys, I’m so happy and so grateful for all the follows and notes you guys have given me over the past few days💜. I’m working on a part 2 of ‘Party for One’ but here’s some headcannons I made for the meantime.

Amajiki Tamaki

Tamaki has always been more submissive in general. He tended to be a pushover at times which makes it easier for people to mess with him, which makes his anxiousness skyrocket at times. 

That was until he met you. You became friends with him after he graduated high school, fresh faced and promoted at his hero agency. You caught his eye the first day he came to work at his new office and stuck with him finding his shyness adorable but also helping him improve in his confidence.

He was entranced by your beauty, the way your tiny afro smelled like (favourite scent) when you walked by him, your lovely voice greeting him every morning, the way your vibrant melanin-filled skin contrasts with his paleness; your constant presence made him develop a crush on you but he never had the confidence to tell you to your face.

You of course weren’t aware of his little crush and his jumpiness and nervousness with you because you thought it was just his normal anxiety. It wasn’t until you overheard him talking to his friend and co-worker, Fatgum that you realized what it really was.

After that you actively sought out Tamaki just to see him be so flustered by your presence 😏 but after a while you had pity on the poor boy and asked him out for coffee and it all went uphill from there.

Loves buying you flowers and dropping them at your desk before you come into work every morning. Seeing your face light up as you read the little notes he leaves you makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. He just loves seeing you smile in general this man is so whipped😩

He asked you to move in together after the first 4 months of dating and although you disagreed at the time, after your 6 months anniversary and him basically pleading about it every 5 mins, you finally gave in cause how could you say no to that face🥺

NSFW below

As soon as you officially moved in with him, Tamaki before more affectionate... way more affectionate. Cuddles, kisses, squeezes; everything he could to show you how physically attracted he was to you.

The topic of sex comes up one day when you’re both on the couch, you on his lap and him trailing kisses down your neck. You’ve never gone past steamy make out sessions with eachother but it was clear that you both were very much ready to take the next step

Despite his shy demeanor, Tamaki is way more confident as well as loud in the bedroom. Loud whimpers as you trail your nails down his abs which turn into loud moans as you free his cock from his briefs giving him the best handjobs he’s ever gotten.

Tamaki sometimes does feel insecure about your relationship and about you having to have asked him out first, so he tends to overcompensate in the bedroom. This man is a huge power top. He loves making you feel good, he loves you telling him what to do and will do anything you ask with no hesitation.

Could eat you out for breakfast everyday if he could and definitely incorporates his quirk into it👀. Loves when you trap his head between your thighs it makes him feel warm. He loves when you tie him to the bed and edge him for hours on end while kissing his pretty tears away. He gets off on being vulnerable with you like that and has the most mind blowing orgasms once you decide to take pity on him.

Loves when you sit in his lap and let him suckle on your nipples while caressing his hair. Soft moments like that are what make him fall in love with you even more. Pegging also makes him fall in love with you even more, but more in a sexual manner. Looks at you like a goddess whenever you have his legs spread out, driving your strap-on into him so hard it makes his eyes cross.

Aftercare is so soft and private with you two. Untying his limbs from the bed, putting ointment and kisses on his bruises, cleaning him up with a wet rag and finally laying next to him on the bed, his face in your chest as you whisper praises and sweet nothings into his hair. God he was going to marry you one day.

Bakugou Katsuki

 Bakugou met you while in U.A High but didn’t start dating you until almost 3 years after graduation You had never interacted that much in high school as you always saw him as the immature, rash and not considerate of others feelings

  He gave off an air of someone commanding and who would never submit and you had never really cared for such men; the macho ‘call-me-daddy’ type men he actually did jokingly tell you to once when you guys were arguing which just made you steer clear of him more, angering him further.

 After graduating, Bakugou became more mature, choosing to develop himself into a better person than he was in high school, and became the no 2 hero of Japan, creating his own hero agency. You started working at his agency 2 years after graduation, you also steadily climbing the ranks of the hero world landing in the top ten heroes list. He began harbouring a crush on you soon after, looking for ways to finally confess to you but were still adamant on avoiding him, still believing him to be the same immature boy that he was in highschool.

  One day, Bakugou couldn’t take it anymore and cornered you in a hallway, confessing quickly while a light blush was dusted on his cheeks. He also apologized for the way he acted in highschool and basically pleaded to go on a date with you although he’ll never admit it lol

   After his confession, you both started hanging out more both at work and outside of work. He officially asked you to be his girlfriend after the third date when he came to your apartment to cook your favourite dish for you after a grueling day at work and you happily agreed as long as he promised to continue cooking for you which led to you two moving in together a year later.

  Dating the number 2 hero in Japan was not easy to say the least. Late night and early mornings plagued both of your lives, sometimes not being able to catch eachother at home at the same time for weeks on end. This led to arguments that turned into silent treatments until you both came to your senses and apologized to one another. He hates fighting with you, fearing you’ll leave him due to his occasional outbursts.

  When you guys do fight, he apologizes through gift giving and cuddles, since he’s not very good with words. Loves buying you brightly coloured clothes and jewelry that matches your skin tone because you look ethereal to him in them. Sometimes steals glances at you just to admire your skin and whatever protective style you’re wearing.

NSFW below

   You and Bakugou had a long talk before you both started getting intimate. Although he was more mature, he still didn’t want to be submissive in the bedroom as he thought it would make him less ‘masculine’. He kept refusing until you managed to wear him down one day, him grumbling about how stupid it would be.

  Oh how wrong he was because this man thrives off of your dominance now. A bratty power bottom, he loves making you put him in his place, which is always under you. Something about you having the confidence to ‘dominate’ the number 2 hero in Japan makes him melt. Is very much into cock and ball torture and just humiliation and degradation in general. Loves seeing you in leather cause it gives you that dominatrix look that makes him whimper

  Very teary eyed when getting pegged and loves when you grab his hair to pull him back and lick his tears away. But at the same time, loves when you mercilessly keep pounding into him despite his tears, choking back a sob as he orgasms for the umpteenth time.

  Is the type of sub that looks like a dom out in public but has a vibrating buttplug inside him during meetings as he glances to you as you smirk and turn up the intensity every few seconds.

  The biggest brat ever omg he will rile you up on purpose just so that you can punish him by locking him in a chastisy cage and riding his favourite strap on you put on him, all while denying him the pleasure of touching you. That’s when he begs the most, mind dumb and babbling nonsense until you finally let his pretty little cock out.

  Aftercare is in equal parts for both of you as sometimes you get dom drop after long sessions. He knows that it can make you feel guilty o sometimes regretful and makes sure to tell you how much he loves you after every session. You also reassure him that he is more than enough for you, limbs tangled together in bed as you doze off next to him.

   His lips curl into a little smile as he falls asleep as well, thinking of you and the engagement ring he’s yet to give you in his bedside drawer.

Shota Aizawa

 Aizawa had never actively looked for people to date. He felt like he had too much on his plate already with class 1-A and didn’t think anyone would be willing to date someone whose life was so hectic. So when you joined U.A as a new teacher in class in class 1-B, he didn’t bat an eye only glancing at you at times as you pass the hallway.

 Glances turned into stares which turned into thinking about you and how your mini twists framed your face so perfectly and how soft your skin looked and how your darks eyes drew him in and-

 Fuck

  Ok so maybe he did have space on his plate for dating cause duh look at you.  He asked you out by whispering in your ear during homeroom one day as he dropped off a stack of papers on your desk. You were taken aback by his boldness but accepted nonetheless. You didn’t know it, but Aizawa had fallen for you long before he got the balls to ask you out😏

 You dated for 3 years and lived together after 2 until you walked into the kitchen one morning and saw him on one knee, flowers petals everywhere and a small smile as he asks “Marry me?” You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry oh to be proposed to by Shota Aizawa😭

 He loves referring to you as his wife and loves when you come to 1-A to give him his bento box, even though he acts like he hates it. Let’s you in his sleeping bag for a nap in the break room, even though Present Mic comes in to annoy both of you most of the time.

 Melts when he sees you interacting with the kids in 1-A, even heard Deku slip up and call you mom once when you came to his class to greet him.

 Nsfw below

 Speaking of kids guess who has a big fat breeding kink. Even though you both know you’re not exactly prepared to have kids at the moment, the risk that comes with him making love to you raw turns him on. You definitely exploit his kink by telling degrading him, saying how he doesn’t deserve to cum inside you with his useless cock and that just makes him want to prove you wrong, rutting into you faster as he whimpers about making you feel good.

  Loves when you take him from behind and bend him on a surface and fucking him like a little whore, scarf stuffed into his mouth as a make-shift gag when he gets too loud. Especially when you do it on one of the desks in his classroom after hours, the embarrassment of a seeing a student sitting on it the next day making his brain fog and his cum leak out, painting the floor and the desk white as he spasms in your hold, tongue lolling out as you press him to the floor to clean up his mess.

  Is into somnophilia and has woken up many times to you bouncing on his cock, refusing to let him cum until you’re satisfied with the amount of orgasms he’s given you.

 Has definitely sniffed your panties before, even pocketing them into his dress pants and taking them to work with him, all so he can use them to fist his cock in the staff restrooms, panting like a dog in heat as sobs your name into his hand, secretly wanting to get caught by you.

 He loves your aftercare so much. Running baths for both of you, kissing the hickeys and scratches you left on him and letting him lay in your arms when his body gives out. Genuinely loves pushing past his limits with you because he knows he trusts you.

  Definitely the best husband and the best lover ever 10/10 would recommend.

Tags: @itzgabz22

[beauvibaby]

emergency contact — m.tkachuk

a/n: a random fic that I finally finished!!

word count: 2.4K

You groaned, the buzzing from your phone was stirring you from your sleep, it was nearly three am. No one would call you this early for no reason, so you suddenly came to your senses, scrambling to answer it. “Hello, hello.” You rushed, hardly getting to it in time. “Is this Y/F/N?” The lady’s voice came across delicately which only caused your heart rate to pick up. “Yes.” You sat up in the bed, flipping your lamp on as she began speaking across the line. “My name is Diane, I’m calling from St. Alexius Hospital, your brother, Matthew has been brought in from a car accident, you were listed as his emergency contact.” She explained, you flew out of the bed, “is he ok?” You were rushing around, pulling on whatever clean clothes you could find first. “He’ll be fine, I’m not at liberty to discuss the details over the phone.” She spoke calmly, you nodded, before realizing she couldn’t see you. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You quickly hung up, yanking your jeans on in a rush, you forced any nervous thoughts to the back of your mind. He would be fine, that’s what you kept repeating to yourself, he was the only family you had left, he had to be fine.

Your feet carried you into the hospital emergency room before your mind could catch up, you reached the counter and blankly stared for a moment, you read her name tag, Diane. “I’m Y/F/N, I’m here to see-” “Ah, yes, for Matthew?” She cut you off, flipping through the papers on her desk. “Room 113.” She pointed you down the hall, and you were off, speed walking down the hall, your shoes sounding loud against the linoleum floor in the early morning. 109, 110, 111, 112, you froze outside of his room, clearly it couldn’t have been that bad if he was alone. You heard a groan from inside the room and you came to your senses, you pushed the curtain aside, “Matthew.” You whispered, and then looked up, the stranger in the bed looking at you with raised eyebrows. “You’re not my brother.” You gasped, and then realized you were standing in his room still, “I’m so sorry, uh, feel better.” You saw the cast on his arm and a bruise forming just under his eyes. “I’m not complaining.” He mumbled with a lazy smile, it captivated you, the way his blue eyes lit up as you smiled back at him. “But no I’m not, my name is Matthew though.” He muttered, coughing lightly, reaching for the water, it was just out of his reach so you walked over and handed it to him. “Here you go.” You whispered, his fingers brushing against yours as he took the cup, “I have to go, I-I’m here to see my brother.” You gave him a smile, going to rush out of the room but as you turned, Diane came running in, out of breath.

“There was a mix up, I’m so sorry.” She rushed, Matthew looking between you and her, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Is my brother even here?!” You snapped, relieved but angry at the same time. She shook her head and you scrambled to pull your phone out of your pocket, dialing your brother’s number. You bounced on your feet as it rang and rang, “Y/N? Why are you calling so late?” He grumbled into the phone, “Matthew!” You cried in relief, “you’re ok?” You asked, “of course I’m ok, why wouldn’t I be?” He sounded confused, “nothing, uh, it’s a long story, I’ll call you later.” You hung up, arms crossed as you glared at Diane. “Miss Y/L/N, I am so sorry.” She apologized again, you could only nod weakly. “I’m so sorry, uh, Matthew.” You turned to the guy in the bed, he had to be right around your age. “I really hope you feel better.” And with that, you rushed out the door, over run by the emotions you just went through.

That was almost a week ago.

Five days if we’re being specific.

“Mom is going to kill me if she finds out I let you drive.” You tuned into the conversation a girl was having with what you could only assume is her brother from the way she spoke to him. You kept your eyes focused down on the cup of coffee and laptop before you, but your ears perked up. “That’s why she isn’t going to find out, right Taryn?” He quipped back at her, you couldn’t fully place it but his voice had an oddly familiar tone. Not one that you knew well, but as if you had heard it before. You continued typing away on your laptop, forcing yourself to stop eavesdropping on their conversation, a message came up on your screen and you became so engrossed in it that you didn’t even notice as Matthew walked past your table with a small gasp, dragging his sister along.

“That’s her!” He whispered to his sister, who only looked at him confused, “that’s the girl from the hospital.” He groaned, running a hand through his curly hair. Only making it look messier. Taryn glanced at you, and at him, then back and forth once more. “You couldn’t pull her.” She teased him, earning a light flick to the arm from him. “I totally could!” He defended, panicking when your head popped up, you glanced around but didn’t notice him. “Well aren’t you going to go say something?” Taryn nudged him, taking his coffee from his not broken arm, and setting it down beside hers on the table. “What am I going to say? ‘Oh hey, not sure if you remember me but you barged into my hospital room last week because you thought I was your brother’? That’s not going to work.” He rambled, too caught up in his own words to notice his sister walking towards you until it was too late. She simply sat across from you, making your body jump back.

“Uh, hello?” You spoke hesitantly, sliding your laptop closer to you, eyeing the random girl skeptically. “Hi, my name is Taryn, I think you met my brother, Matthew over there, in the hospital last week?” She smiled politely at you, pointing to the corner of the cafe were you turned and saw Matthew looking over with wide eyes and pink cheeks, he offered a small wave, wincing when he used the arm in a cast. You giggled under your breath, waving back, “I did.” You confirmed, “I’m Y/N.” You added, turning back to Taryn, “well you see, he hasn’t really shut up about you since then, he thinks you’re really pretty, so I figured I’d come try and help him have a chance to talk to you.” She explained with a grin, occasionally glancing at her brother, who you could only assume had turned more red. “I’d love to talk to him.” You assured her, slowly closing your laptop, holding back a large smile when she grinned, rushing off, you heard them bickering before Matthew approached, awkwardly sitting where his sister just was. “Hi.” He hadn’t struck you as one to be shy when you first met him, “hi.” You repeated, leaning back in your seat. “How’s the arm?” You teased, glancing down to his cast. “It’s getting there.” He shrugged, looking up and meeting your eyes. “I’m really glad they called you.” He added, ah, there’s the confidence you were looking for. You rested your elbows on the table, holding your chin lightly in your hand, “are you?” You cocked your head to the side, smiling as he blushed.

“I am.” He confirmed, placing his phone up on the table, “so why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll take you out to dinner.” He spoke softly, a small hint of nervousness to his voice. “You know, as payment for emotional trauma at the very least.” He joked, earning a genuine laugh from you. “I think that sounds fair.” You picked up his phone, adding yourself to his contacts. “Good thing I’m the only Y/N you know.” You handed him his phone, smiling as his fingers brushed yours, it sounded cliche, and you hated to even think it, but even the simple touch sent your heart into a frenzy. “Mhm, good thing.” He agreed, staying seated, “you know, if we kept talking this could almost be like a first date.” He raised an eyebrow, you noticed the small smirk on his lips. “I think I can spare some time.” You smiled sweetly at him, diving into conversation. You both covered a lot of things, from work, which caught you off guard for sure when you heard what he does, to family, all the way down to embarrassing childhood stories.

“Alright, I’ve waited as long as I can wait, Matty, we need to go.” Taryn interrupted, looking down at her brother from where he was still sitting, you checked the time on your phone and you were embarrassed to see it had been nearly two hours. “Oh my god, Taryn, I’m so sorry.” You apologized, Matthew smiling at the interaction as his sister brushed it off. “It’s fine.” She turned back to him, who was lost in his happiness, “so, Matty.” You teased, gathering your things, “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” You stood up, pushing your purse onto your shoulder, he followed, standing in front of you, he ducked down to press a kiss to your cheek. “You’ll definitely be hearing from me.” He smirked, walking off with his sister while you blushed furiously, he glanced back and you shot him a wink, you two were made for each other.

“So, tomorrow?”

You giggled at your phone as you walked to your car, already getting a message from him. You bit your lip as you smiled, typing a quick response to leave him on his toes while you drive home.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

You put your phone on silent to avoid getting distracted while you drove, but you could tell it vibrated a couple of times on the seat. It felt like forever until you got home, but once you did, you and Matthew texted the rest of the day, setting up plans for you both to meet at a restaurant not too far from your house the next day.

You were a little nervous, just because first dates were always nerve wracking, but otherwise you were calm, you knew you’d have a good time. You smoothed out your pants, looking down at the printed material, you adjusted your tucked in lace camisole, tugging your cardigan on over top, a chic yet comfortable outfit, paired with some heeled boots. Your hair falling down your back in loose curls, you gave yourself one last adjustment before you made your way out the door, hoping you wouldn’t be too early, you wouldn’t want to ruin his manly pride.

You were excitedly surprised when you arrived and Matthew was already standing outside the restaurant waiting for you. “Hi, Matthew.” You called as you climbed out of your car, his head snapped up, a grin covering his face as a couple of his curls bouncing in front of his eyes. “Hey. You look great.” He met you in front of your car, his jacket hanging off on one side because of his cast. “Clean up nice yourself.” You replied with ease, “how’s your arm?” You added, lightly touching it where he had scribbled on it. A chuckle falling from your lips at the stick figure he’d left on it. “Better now.” He smirked, earning a snort in return, your hand shooting to your mouth. “Oh my god.” He broke into laughter, using his good arm to move your hand from your face, “that was equally cute and funny.”

“I’m glad you thought so.” You breathed out, giggling as he led you inside.

***

“Oh, Matty. She’s lovely, I’m so happy for you.” Chantal grinned, looking at the ring he had picked out for you. You’d been together for just over a year, you both fell quick and hard, you moving to Calgary with him halfway through the season. “Thanks mom.” He sighed in relief, it was the last few weeks of the off season, and it was a no brainer for you both to come back to St. Louis for the summer to see your families.

What you didn’t know, is that he ended up holding onto that ring for almost a year before asking you to marry him, two years to the day when you ran into his hospital room.

***

“Matty, what are you doing?” You asked breathlessly as you walked into the living room after your shower, in frumpy pajamas and a wet messy bun. You looked at the candles that were scattered around, and him in a pregame suit, despite there being no game tonight. “You can’t cry when I haven’t even said anything yet.” He whispered as you approached him in shock, he pulled the velvet box from his jacket pocket. “Matthew.” You gasped, cupping his bearded jaw, he wiped under your eyes lightly, “Y/N.” He murmured, lightly kissing your forehead before getting down on one knee.

“As much as I hate how that mix up in the hospital scared you that night, I’m so grateful for it, you were right in front of me that whole time in St. Louis, but I wouldn’t have met you if it wasn’t for that.” He explained, popping the box open, you started nodding instantly, “ask me.” You begged. “Will you marry me?” He cut straight to it, grinning when you dropped down on your knees in front of him. You nodded furiously, holding his face in your hands, “yes. Oh my god, yes.” You pulled him in for a kiss, squealing in delight when he yanked you closer, “Mrs. Tkachuk sounds nice, doesn't it?”

***

You leaned in the doorway to your son's room, smiling as Matthew theatrically recalled your meeting story, your son, who was only four, looking up at his dad like he just told him how the earth spins. You giggled, making your presence known, you joined them on the floor, draping your legs over your husband’s lap, your son climbing onto yours, hugging you tightly as you played with his curly hair. “Is daddy telling your favorite story again?” You asked him, smiling when he nodded enthusiastically, “I really like that story too.” You told him, feeling Matthew squeeze your hip as your son giggled.

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @leafs-forever

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 3

Here is act 3!!! Thank you so much for all of your enthusiasm so far! Hope you enjoy :)

8.6k - masterlist - ao3

--

Aelin has never really thought of herself as someone with a lot of friends. She’s always had Elide, Aedion and Lysandra, but they almost fall into a separate category. Like what they’ve been through surpasses friendship, and she thinks at this point Elide and Lysandra are as much her family as Aedion.

Throughout her years in the industry she hasn’t made many friends, Chaol and Dorian are probably the only two, but she's learned how things work. It didn't take her long to realise that all the girls she met at auditions, and bonded with over all of the things they had in common, would have stabbed her right in the back at the earliest opportunity.

It's cutthroat, but she can't say she's never succumbed to the temptations.

She’d be lying if she said she’d never pretended she was there to audition for another character just to get the other actress to spill her analysis of the character. She can’t say it was unintentional when she’d leave the audition room and then pretend to take a phone call where she’d discuss how pleased the casting director had been with her take and had promised to call, watching the faces fall of the other hopefuls she waltzed past.

She can’t say she’d never do it again.

That said, she feels like she has a good thing going with Fenrys, Manon and Rowan. They've hung out a couple of times and she likes them admittedly more than she thought she would at first. The dynamic is fast and snappy, funny and sarcastic, and she can feel herself getting back into the old motions.

Aelin knows they’re friends now, and it feels really fucking good, but she has one concern. She’s not entirely sure that what she feels for Rowan can be described as friendship and she’s kicking herself for letting it happen. The physical attraction she can excuse, he looks how he looks and she’s defenseless against that, but the rest? The rest is where she’s really let herself go.

He’s opened up to them a lot more now, and they spend a lot more time together than they did at the start. Just last week she had thrown herself into her seat at the end of a long day of shooting and plunked her feet in his lap. She had expected him to throw them off and growl something at her, but he had simply rested his left hand on her ankle and continued to scroll through his phone with his right.

It had felt far too easy to settle into his touch, and far too enjoyable to have the heat of his skin against her own.

Even so, there’s a level of detachment to his interaction with them. He falls somewhere between bemused dad and despairing lecturer tasked with herding a group of unruly children through a life or death venture. He curses actors all day long but he’s just as dramatic. There are moments when she catches him beginning to smile at a comment from Fenrys or the bickering she and Manon do before he halts himself and seems to rein it back in.

She wants to see him grin.

It’s kind of weird to think back to the first week of shooting and how unsure she felt around them, how insecure she was of her own ability compared to theirs, but by now she’s pretty sure she’s past the worst of that and she doesn’t want to waste any more time doubting herself, at least in comparison to them. It helps when Rowan makes little comments like nice job, Aelin or when she catches the nod he does after she nails a scene, especially when he tries to hide it.

She posted a picture on Instagram of the four of them from set last week, her and Manon crouched at the front wrapped up again in the massive coats they give them on set, their faces almost completely covered by the puffed up collars, and Rowan and Fenrys stood behind them, their arms crossed across their chests and faces twisted into overly dramatic imitations of anger. It had taken some pleading and possible bribery from Fenrys to get Rowan to agree to the pose, but they had succeeded in the end.

She had captioned it so we stole their coats… and tagged each of them, watching as the likes came flooding in. Only seconds later the comments had begun to run a bit wild.

This is going to be so good I can already tell.

fenrys looks so hot fuck me up

ARMS!ARMS!ARMS!ARMS!

Are they dating?

She stopped reading the comments pretty quickly after that.

They’re about a third of the way into shooting, and Aelin knows what she’s accomplished so far is some of her best work. It hasn’t been easy, but she’s put hours and hours of her time into understanding her character and she feels like she truly knows Feyre, and almost sees some of herself in her. There are differences of course, Aelin isn’t quite as naive as Feyre or as forgiving, but they’ve both been dealt a shitty hand, and Aelin likes to think she’s working just as hard as Feyre to pick herself back up.

She finishes the take, and slaps her usual high-five against Fenrys’ palm and sends her regular nod over to Rowan. Good? Her nod asks. Good, his own gesture returns. She tucks her smile away as she begins to wander over to where he’s stood chatting with a producer.

She’s built a habit of going over to him once they finish shooting, she wants to seek him out constantly, and she feels drawn to him in a way that she’s beginning to lose the fight against. She’s about halfway towards him when she spots a tall head of brown hair making its way towards her.

She barely has time to process before there are a pair of strong arms around her waist and she’s being lifted up and swung around, her feet dangling inches above the ground.

“Hello, superstar.” His voice is deep in her ear and she can feel the vibrations where she buries her face into his neck.

“Gods! I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.”

She gasps as he places her back down on the ground and she can finally smile up at Chaol. Taking in the chestnut-brown of his hair and the faint creases beginning at the corners of his rich brown eyes. Gods, she’s missed him.

She’s known he’d be visiting the set at some point. The Crescent City is his baby, a script he’s been working on for years, and she knows he couldn’t stomach leaving it all to Rowan without any supervision.

He had first mentioned it to her a few years ago, but back then it was nothing more than an idea. Aelin knew he had been chipping away at it in the background for a while and it wasn’t a surprise when he first sent it to her. It’s different now though, now that there’s a budget and a set and actual progress made in getting it on screen.

It feels like a big deal to her; she can’t imagine how Chaol feels.

She had never dreamed though, through all of their midnight conversations about it and their half-dreaming out loud discussions, that she would be the one to star in it.

Chaol just grins at her, a twinkle in his eyes that she knows means he’s happy, and says “thought I’d surprise you.”

“It’s definitely a surprise.” She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck for a second time. She squeezes him tight and breathes him in, his smell is comforting and it makes her feel young again. “How long are you here for?”

He gives her waist a short squeeze, reminding her that his hands are still resting there with hers still up on his shoulders. It’s not the closest she’s ever been to him, and it doesn’t cross her mind for her touching him so freely to be an issue.

“A couple of days.” He smiles down at her again. “Lunch?”

“Of course, let me change first?” She asks, releasing his shoulders and turning to walk back to her trailer. He holds a hand out, as if to say lead the way.

She sets off as he follows, and she can feel the lightness of the wide smile across her face. It’s a kind of comfort now that Chaol is here, he’s taken care of her for so many years and his presence grounds her in a way she hasn’t really found with many other people.

Rowan still stands with the producer behind where some of the team are tinkering with the filming equipment. His brow is drawn into a frown and the producer standing with him has begun to look profoundly uncomfortable.

The take was good, she knows that, and when he runs a jagged hand over his face a jolt of concern strikes her. He looks anguished, or frustrated, and she wonders how he’s soured so quickly after the silent exchange they shared mere moments ago.

His gaze snaps to hers and it’s a powerful thing. His stare weighs heavily into her, so much so she wants to look away and her steps falter. The stumble is barely perceptible, but she sees it and thinks maybe he does too. There’s something thorny in the pull of his brows and the twist of his mouth and she wants to go over, ease his troubles, but that’s not her place. And Chaol is inches behind her following her lead.

Rowan’s eyes flick to Chaol and his mouth twists further. And not to get ahead of herself yet again, but surely not, right? His gaze switches back to rest on her, only for a second longer before he mouths something short and sharp to the producer and disappears.

Aelin shakes it off. She might think they’re friends, but as has become her mantra, he’s her boss. What she needs is something gentle and simple and uncomplicated. In the real world, everything she wants from Rowan is decidedly complicated.

Sitting opposite Chaol is a place she’s been many times before. More often than not, Dorian would have taken up the mantle at Chaol’s side, the pair of them closer than brothers. They have the kind of relationship she thinks truly cannot exist for people other than the two of them.

The level of understanding they share, the lengths they would go to for each other, it’s unparalleled and she longs to find a bond like that one day.

When she was younger being sat in a position like this, opposite Chaol, so close they could whisper to converse, would have been a dream. She had a bit of an infatuation with him when she first met him; he was a few years older than her, charming, handsome and calming. He had been her entrance to the world she lives in now and he had kept her safe and taken care of her.

She had thought he was everything she wanted.

She had realised pretty quickly, after going in for an ill advised kiss that he had swerved, that that would never be an option for them. He had let her down kindly and gently, which she appreciates now, even if it felt like a blow at the time.

He hadn’t let her pull back from him though, he had kept her close until she eventually got over the embarrassment and was able to look at him without blushing. It’s not something she dwells on now, she was young and naive and she could have done a lot worse than Chaol.

He was who she had gone to when she had met Sam. She had waxed poetic to him about the boy with the curly brown hair and the shy smile. She smiles lightly to herself at the thought of him, what he would make of where she’s at now.

He’d kiss her cheek with his arms around her waist, boasting how his girl, his baby, was a star in the making. She swallows the thought, struck by both the image and the lingering pain it brings, but also by the knowledge that she’s gone a couple of days without thinking of him.

She hasn’t thought of the boy with the brown eyes in a few days, hasn’t woken up screaming in even more. She breathes past the panic that threatens in her throat, both at the idea that she hasn’t thought of Sam for a while and the reasons there could be for that.

“How is the love of my life?” She focuses back on Chaol and watches him try very hard not to choke on his mouthful of his drink.

He had picked the cafe, even though she’s been in Rifthold for a while it is still far more his space than hers, and he knows the hidden gems like this that she isn’t privy to yet. It’s rustic and cosy, the brick walls have colourful bunting draped between them and none of the chairs inside match. She’ll have to come back if the food is good, the atmosphere inside is relaxed and busy enough that she can feel completely anonymous. She doesn’t want to leave, maybe next time she can bring a book.

“My beautiful wife is well,” he manages once he swallows, and she smirks at how he knows exactly what she’s asking. “Almost past the second trimester now, and still refusing to slow down.”

That sounds exactly like Yrene. She says as much and Chaol nods wearing the expression of a man who, if he didn’t love his wife so much, would be tired of chasing after her.

Yrene is a whirlwind of energy and efficiency and it’s why she’s one of Aelin’s favourite people. She’s full of exciting tales and inspiration, that is, when she can get Yrene to slow for a second enough to catch up. She probably doesn’t need her high paced job as a doctor in Rifthold General Hospital, like, Chaol’s scripts are successful, he’s won a number of awards that sit in a special cabinet in their house, but that’s just how Yrene is.

Caring and kind and so, so smart. If Aelin didn’t do what she does, she’d love to be like Yrene.

“Second trimester?” She cries. “He’s almost here!”

Chaol is again at risk of choking. “Aelin, please. I still have a few months left to get ready.”

He looks almost panicked and she scoffs. “Chaol, please.” She mocks his tone perfectly and ignores the eye roll he gives her. “You were born ready. You’ve basically raised me for the past few years and look how well I’m doing.”

He laughs, and she smiles, it’s exactly the reaction she wanted.

“I’m not sure that’s the glowing compliment you think it is,” He says dryly and she just pokes her tongue out at him.

“Chaol,” she begins, seriously this time. “You are already the best dad I know, you’ll be fine. And if not, the baby has Yrene, so he’ll definitely be fine.”

He doesn’t bite on any of it, just looks bashfully to the table cloth and nods. She can’t resist one last comment.

“And even then, he’ll have me and Dorian.”

“Gods, Aelin. The thought will send me to an early grave.”

She tilts her head to the side and sketches a flip of her hair over her shoulder. The combination of her and Dorian and a baby probably would give Chaol a heart attack but she’ll embody her role as the cool aunt, and Dorian can more than handle the cool uncle.

“Do you not want your child to be cool?” She knows he’s barely finding her funny at this point but she’s missed him and she loves winding him up.

He’s saved from having to respond by the arrival of their food. She stares longingly at his burger and greasy side of fries and forces herself to take a mouthful of her wilted salad.

After a few bites she notices his expression, something pinched around the corners of his mouth, and she knows there's something he wants to say.

To say that Chaol is less invested in her sobriety than Aedion and Lysandra would be a lie, but he doesn’t question it as openly as they do, so she doubts what he wants to say is anything to do with that. She’s ordered an orange juice to spice it up, and he has a tap water that he ordered without question so she thinks he mustn’t be concerned.

“What?” She says slowly, whatever it is she wants to know, and the pain of waiting for him to spit it out was almost too much.

He shakes his head and pops another fry into his mouth. She can’t resist stealing one and a swipe of ketchup off his plate.

He begins carefully, after using his napkin to dab at the corner of his mouth. “How is it going? You read the script pretty early on, do you think…”

He trails off, and seems to pause while he considers his words, but she doesn’t need him to finish.

“Chaol, I think it’s going really well,” she says and it’s sincere. “And it’s not just because I’m in it.”

It’s far easier to crack jokes and reassure others than it is to be the one being reassured.

He shoots her an unimpressed look, but she knows her words have done their job. Even through her faults she knows he trusts her judgement.

“I feel like you asked that in a way that meant you thought it wasn’t going well.”

She’s fishing a little, but Chaol is a gossip at heart, even worse than Dorian despite how he’d deny it.

He sees right through her, but relents as he takes another bite of his burger. She stabs another bundle of lettuce, dipping it in a pool of dressing resting in the bottom of her bowl as he swallows and speaks.

“I didn’t think it would go badly, but Fenrys Moonbeam has a bit of a reputation, and I just hope he’s taking it seriously. I put a lot of work into it.” He pauses and Aelin just waits. It doesn’t seem like he’s quite done. “Rowan Whitethorn too. But I think his reputation is a bit different.”

It puts her in a bit of a weird position with a sharp taste in her mouth, wanting to defend her new friends to one of her oldest, but Chaol has to understand that how he sees them isn’t right.

“I don’t think either of them is quite how you think.” She says it gently because she doesn’t want to risk irritating Chaol with this. “Fenrys works really hard, you know. He’s putting a lot of work into understanding Rhys, Rowan too. He puts a lot of thought into what he does, he’s really smart.”

He’s watching her silently, his eyes shining with a question she doesn’t want to answer.

“You’ve written an incredible story Chaol, we all want to do it justice.”

The quirk of his eyebrow is somewhat impressed as he takes her in, but maybe there’s something more in there. Something that catches the difference between the way she talks about Fenrys compared to the way she talks about Rowan.

“I’m glad,” is all he says.

“It’s going well,” she says and truly believes it. “I’ve said it before, but it really is a work of art, Chaol.”

She pauses, her next words thick in her throat. “Thank you… for writing it, I mean. It means a lot to me, and I am honoured to play this part.”

He nods thankfully, and she knows he appreciates the compliment but his response is typical Chaol. Quiet and understated but shining with sincerity.

There’s a moment before the corner of his mouth pulls upwards and she knows he’s just about to turn the game around and tease her now.

“A part of me wishes I hadn’t written so many intimate scenes between them, the thought of you and Fenrys Moonbeam…” He trails off.

She tugs her lips inwards between her teeth, pleading with the blush on her neck not to rise. They haven’t got to those scenes yet, and she’s been avoiding the idea of them. She doesn’t want to think about what she’ll have to do with Fenrys in a couple of weeks.

Fenrys isn’t the problem though, she knows he’ll be professional and respectful. The problem is that Rowan will be there, watching them, watching her, and the idea plays with her in a dangerous way. Everything about Rowan feels dangerous to her, and gods if that isn’t half the draw.

“I know we joked before, but you do know you’re not my father? You’re worse than Aedion,” she laughs.

Chaol just shakes his head, “I’m allowed to look out for you.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but you’re only, what? Five years older than me?”

“Six. And Rowan Whitethorn is older than me.” The way he says it is noticeable, like he has a point to make.

“He is?”

So she didn’t know that, but it worries her how it doesn’t change things even a little bit. It doesn’t change how attractive he is, or the fact that she should be going nowhere near the idea of the two of them. She needs to call Elide, or her actual therapist.

“Yes, I think he was in the year above me at the Royal.”

She really doesn’t know all that much about him, hadn’t even known he went to the stage school in Adarlan.

What she knows is the fleeting moments she sees of him behind the camera, the expressions he makes when he’s impressed and when he’s not. She knows things like his coffee order, his hatred for the little pastries the catering department provide and how he doesn’t seem to drink alcohol. She knows about Lyria, but it’s from the internet, not him.

She doesn’t know him.

“Oh,” is all she manages.

Chaol eats another fry, watching her the whole time, and she wants him to look away. She has nothing to feel guilty about; they haven’t done anything. She has one, probably inadvisable, crush on her boss that she’ll speak to Elide about and get over. Then the movie will be done and she won’t ever have to see him again.

The dropping sensation in her stomach at the thought is less than desirable.

Chaol stays for a few days. He hangs around on set and sits in her chair while she films. It’s a pleasant kind of relief, tinged with an element of nostalgia, to have him around. He makes her feel like a kid again, and she feels herself looking towards him for approval when she desperately avoids how she wants to do the same to Rowan.

He relents on the second day, after having met Fenrys and Rowan properly, and admits to her that he thinks his baby is probably in good hands. She just says “I told you so,” because she’s a child and annoying Chaol is fun.

She’s sitting in Manon’s chair next to him, and they’re talking about Aedion. He and Chaol have a friendship she likes to pretend doesn’t stem from a mutual concern for her. Chaol is saying something about how he doesn’t envy Aedion’s schedule, but she’s barely listening.

Aelin’s watching where Rowan stands a few feet away. He’s wearing a soft-looking black sweatshirt and jeans, and she can’t help but imagine how it would feel to slip the sweatshirt on herself. How it would still be warm from his body, how the sleeves would trail way past her fingertips, how the smell of him would surround her.

He’s directing Manon, gesturing jaggedly with his hands and she’s nodding along. The shades of their hair almost match, Aelin notices absently, but she prefers the silver shine to Rowan’s compared to the clean-white of Manon’s. Rowan makes a gesture with his right hand and his fingers flex in a rhythmic movement, the elegant lengths of his fingers flowing freely in motion.

She wants to take that hand and put it on herself, she wants to run it down her side and between her thighs. She wants to take his fingers into her mouth and suck.

And like, what the fuck Aelin?

Texting Rowan is, objectively, a bad idea. Not that it’s a bad idea to text a colleague and ask to hang out, it’s just that that isn’t exactly what she wants to get from texting him. So yes; it’s a bad idea, and Aelin knows this, but she’s been thinking of doing it for a couple of days and the desire to do so hasn’t faded. She’s thought about it for long enough that she’s rationalised it, it’s not rash.

Aelin wants to know Rowan.

She taps away at her screen, hi rowan… No. That's not right. Aelin deletes it.

Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to… Nope. Not right either. She bites her lip while she backspaces the string of letters.

She wants to seem casual, so if he’s not into it it’s not awkward. Aelin’s a feminist, but she still doesn’t want to outright ask him out until she’s tested the waters a little more, got a bit of a better read on him and whether he could be into it or not.

She thinks he is, at least a little bit. She knows his eyes linger on her sometimes, sometimes her face, sometimes her arse. She likes it, but whether all he feels is attraction, or whether he feels the same as her is a mystery.

She still hasn’t spoken to Elide about it, but there’s a devil on her shoulder whispering that she’s probably past the point of no return already.

i’m sick of takeout, she types. want to go and grab a bite somewhere???

Aelin taps send before she can overthink it. She can always invite Fenrys to come along too if Rowan doesn’t seem keen on doing something just the two of us.

It’s not long before her phone buzzes with a response. You’re sick of takeout, so you want to go and eat out?

She chews the inside of her cheek, his response doesn’t really give her much. And while it’s not a rejection, it’s not a yes. Maybe her text was stupid, gods, why didn’t she think-

Her phone buzzes again. How about I cook something instead?

Much better. She smiles as she writes her response.

i don’t really want food poisoning :/// my boss might be a bit pissed if i can’t work

The bubble with the three dots pops up immediately, and her thumbs hover over the screen as she waits.

Ha. Ha. He sends, and she can’t fight the little laugh that escapes her as she imagines him rolling his eyes at her. His next text comes through pretty quickly. I’m on board with going out if you want, just thought something more private could be better.

And shit. There are a number of ways she could interpret that. Aelin’s trying not to read into things, things like Rowan saying he wants to go somewhere private with her, he could just be talking about paparazzi. Damn, he probably is just talking about paparazzi.

oh yeah sounds good actually but pls don’t poison me

He just sends a straight faced emoji.

Aelin leans back into her couch as he sends another follow up text.

Do you want to come here?

She could, but he hosted last time. And while she liked the atmosphere at Rowan’s house, she can’t deny that she likes the idea of him here. She likes the idea of seeing Rowan making his way around her kitchen, likes the idea of Rowan sitting opposite her at the end of this couch.

or you could come here????

She bites the corner of her nail as she stares at her screen, waiting for his response to come through.

Sure. I’ll swing by the store to grab some ingredients. How many people am I cooking for?

Aelin pauses, her thumbs hovering above the keyboard.

was thinking 2 but i can invite others if you want

She thinks that’s pretty clear, but it also puts the ball in his court. She’s the most nervous she’s been so far as she waits for his reply, and the three dots pop up before disappearing again. They pop up again, before finally his message comes through.

Don’t. His text reads. I’ll pick up enough for two.

His response is pretty clear too, and she smiles as she sends three thumbs up emojis.

Her apartment isn’t dirty, or even messy, but once she’s locked her phone she’s up and full of nervous energy. It’s probably presumptuous to make sure her bed is made, but she does it anyway. She leaves the leggings and oversized sweater she wears on, it’s casual, she’s chilled out. Or she can at least pretend to be.

She’s doing her last round of the apartment, keeping her eyes peeled for any stray socks or underwear that she could have left anywhere. A blush threatens her cheeks at the thought of Rowan and her underwear, but she forces it down when there’s a sharp knock at the door.

She swings the door open and there he is.

He looks good, as always, but today it’s highlighted by the deep green military-style jacket he has thrown on over his plain white t-shirt. The tan of his skin always looks good against bright white, and the green of his jacket draws out the depths of his green eyes.

“Hey,” she breathes as their eyes meet.

He smiles, a slightly crooked thing, and he just looks even more attractive. “Hey.”

He’s carrying a brown paper bag pressed against his side in his left hand, and she reaches out to take it from him as she steps aside to let him in. He steps in, but resists her grab for the bag, instead wrapping his right arm around her waist to pull her into a brief hug. “Thanks for having me.”

His words take her back to the first time she visited his house. The time with Fenrys and Manon and the football game. The visit with her and Rowan in his kitchen.

She’s nowhere near as stiff with him as she was then and she lets herself relax into the hug.

“I only let you in on the promise of food,” she says into his chest and feels more than hears his reluctant snort of laughter.

Every time they touch she’s struck by how much she likes it. How much she wants more. But then he pulls back, twisting to push her door shut.

“I feel like I should let you know now before we go any further that I can’t cook.”

Rowan only raises a brow.

“Seriously, when I was in college I set off the fire alarm in my residence at least three times.”

“Three times?” His eyes widen in playful disbelief. “What were you making?”

“Well,” she laughs. “The first time I was trying to make Lysandra a birthday cake but then I got distracted and left it in the oven for three hours. The fire department got called but it was not that big of a deal, there wasn’t a fire.”

There’s laughter dancing in his clear green eyes as she regales her tale of youth. She practically beams at the knowledge that she has put it there.

“But our kitchen did smell like smoke for the rest of the year.”

“That doesn’t sound like you’re bad at cooking.” Rowan tilts his head down at her and she realises they’re still standing in her entryway. “That sounds like you don’t pay attention.”

Aelin shrugs at his teasing. “The third time was the worst. I was trying to do that thing where you put vodka in pasta sauce.”

“Gods,” Rowan’s laughing now and she loves the low rumble of the sounds. It pricks the hairs on her arm as the sound washes over her skin.

“There were some flames,” she confesses and he winces.

She didn’t have a completely normal college experience, she was acting part time in very minor roles during her time there but she managed to make some memories in her short time there. After Sam she dropped out and the memories always leave a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

Talking about this with Rowan and laughing at her silly little anecdotes is one of the first times it hasn’t hurt.

“Sucks to be an actor,” he says mockingly with a nod into her apartment as she finally leads him into the kitchen. The apartment she’s staying in is fine, more than fine, it’s actually a really great apartment and she tries to fake a frown through her smile.

Aelin shrugs. “We can’t all be big, household-name directors, living in glamorous mansions, too famous to go out to eat.”

She shoots him an amused look, and Rowan just smirks, tilting his head to the side in a way that exposes the length of his throat.

So maybe this was a fucking dangerous idea.

Inviting Rowan to her apartment had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he’s here, now he’s in her space, looking all… damn him, he looks so fucking good she feels flushed.

She used to think brunettes were her type, Chaol and Sam were both brunette, with tanned skin and brown eyes. Recently though, as much as she wants to resist it, her type has pretty much become Rowan.

Rowan with his silver hair, and green eyes. His low voice with it’s lilting accent from across the sea. His skin is tanned too, but she knows it comes from spending hours outside rather than genetics.

She hasn’t thought seriously about another man since they started filming, or more likely since the moment they met in the hallway.

And if she allows herself to admit it, probably a lot earlier than that.

She shakes herself as he watches her.

Rowan smirks at her as he places the bag on the counter. “We’ll have to try not to set this kitchen on fire.”

She’s perched atop her counter, with one knee crossed over the other, as she watches Rowan unpack the items from the bag. He’s shucked off the jacket by now, and the t-shirt he wears gives her uninterrupted access to the image of his toned arms and the tattoo that swirls down his left side.

She realises a moment too late that he’s asked her a question.

“What?”

She can tell Rowan knows why she didn’t respond, she just hopes it’s not too much for him. From the smirk he wears she thinks maybe not.

“I’m trying to teach you a valuable skill, it may help to pay attention.” She flips him off and revels in the dark flash of a smile he offers. “I asked if you have a frying pan.”

Aelin pulls a face, she hasn’t done a lot of cooking here past the basics like pasta and soup. Her microwave has been a trusty companion.

“I don’t know.” She waves a hand to the cupboards that line the side of the room. “Have a look in there.”

He gives her a look that tells her he’s deciding whether or not he likes her giving him orders, but then he turns to rummage through her cupboards before returning triumphant and waving the silver frying pan in her face.

“So, what are you making for me?” she asks as he finds a chopping board and unloads the hoard of vegetables he brought with himself.

“Veggie burgers,” he states simply, and she knows she pulls a face because he laughs. “Before you complain, they’re good for you. And they’re tasty.”

She still wrinkles her nose at him, unconvinced.

He cocks his head as he pauses his rhythmic chopping of the leafy green vegetable he has on the board. She’s trying desperately hard to make eye contact and not just stare at the motion of his hands, and his arms, and the ink swirling down his skin.

“Didn’t I promise not to poison you? Do you not trust me to take care of you?” Aelin doesn’t think she’s reading into things to hear the flirty tone to his voice.

“I’ll let you know after I’ve tried the burger.”

Rowan shakes his head at her, the ghost of a smile floating across his face as he resumes his chopping. “Ye of little faith.”

Aelin just shrugs, making a show of being sceptical by turning her nose.

“You could always help,” Rowan comments. “Or do you regularly invite guests around expecting them to make you a meal?”

“Tell me what to do, chef.” Aelin holds her hands out, ready for instruction. “I am yours to instruct.”

Rowan nods and reaches back into the bag and pulls out a can, he turns to find a bowl and a fork and places them in front of her. She’s impressed that in under half an hour he knows his way around her kitchen far better than she does.

“Mash these,” he says.

Her disgust isn’t pretend this time and her lip curls. “Mash these beans?”

Rowan nods.

“Mash them?”

“Yes, you do know what that means don’t you?”

Aelin hits him with the fork on the bicep and he laughs again, the sound smooth and rich in her stomach. “Shut up. You’re not convincing me this is going to taste good.”

Even so, she opens the can and is about to tip them into the bowl when Rowan grabs her hand. His fingers are warm and solid where they wrap around her own, and she snaps her eyes to his face at the contact.

“Rinse them first. You warned me and yet I still overestimated your ability in the kitchen.”

He’s smiling slightly, exposing the whites of his teeth, and he’s so close to her face. They’re almost level where she sits on the counter and Aelin swallows. His eyes are bright as he looks at her and she feels her smile grow involuntarily. Something flickers across his face before he clears his throat and steps back letting go of her hand. She misses his touch immediately after it’s gone.

Aelin slides off the bench and turns towards the sink to compose herself, she rinses the beans under the tap and Rowan stays silent while she does.

She turns back and tips them into the bowl and begins to mash as Rowan grates a carrot. Aelin really didn’t know her flat even came with these things.

“This is actually fucking disgusting.”

She’s managed to turn the bean mixture into a grey-ish mush. There’s no way this can taste good, she’s going to struggle even putting it in her mouth without retching.

Rowan snorts. “It’s good for you.”

Aelin wrinkles her nose again, but keeps going. It speaks volumes that she’s willing to trust Rowan on this.

It feels weirdly domestic to be here with him in her kitchen, and they move with an easy kind of synchrony. He adds his chopped vegetables to the bowl and she mixes them together as he readies the pan.

“Up for getting your hands dirty?” Rowan asks her once he’s done, and hell if Aelin doesn’t read far too much into that. The answer is yes.

“Always.” Sue her if she makes sure to look up at him through her lashes, and to bend forwards towards him as she rests her forearms on the kitchen counter.

“Grab a handful of the mixture,” He points to the contents of the bowl. “And shape it into a round patty.”

Aelin goes to put her hand tentatively into the bowl, it’s now a grey-ish mush with flecks of orange and green and she’s dreading it getting under her nails.

“Wait,” Rowan says, and he reaches out to roll the sleeves of her sweater up. It’s such a sweet gesture that it kind of takes her by surprise. The gentleness with which he holds her wrist as he rolls the fabric is nice, and she finds herself watching his face as he does it.

His brows pull together, in an expression she assumes is concentration, as he makes the careful motions. He looks good, she notes, not for the first time.

His thumbs and index fingers move down to squeeze the junction where her wrists meet her hands as he finishes and says, “there you go.”

“Thanks,” she breathes.

Aelin turns back to the bowl, attempting to somehow calm her heart. Rowan really needs to stop touching her if she wants to get over whatever this is. But now that he’s here, and he’s looking at her the way he is, and specifying that he wants to spend time with her, just the two of them…

It’s the first time she allows herself to consider that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t something that’s only dangerous. She finally allows herself to consider the idea that this could be fun, this could be something she could really enjoy. And here, in her apartment just the two of them, he doesn’t have to be her boss. He’s just Rowan and she’s just Aelin.

She really likes that thought.

Rowan clicks the pan on, and the sound startles her out of her head. Aelin hesitates before finally plunging her fingers into the mush and gods, she has some faith in Rowan if she’s going to even consider eating this.

It’s gross, but she manages to shape it into two round patties, and she places them into the pan when Rowan instructs.

Aelin washes her hands as Rowan pays attention to the burgers, and she retakes her seat on the counter after sorting out their plates and condiments. She might not be a great cook, but she can be a good host.

She watches him flip them a couple of times, taking the opportunity to ogle without risk of being caught staring. He has strong arms, and the tattoo snaking down his left makes her mouth water with every flex of his muscles. He has wide hands with long, almost elegant fingers that she wants to link through her own. Aelin is reminded, as he lifts the pan, of the thought she had the other day when he was directing Manon.

It wasn’t the first time she had considered Rowan in a sexual way, but it was the most direct, and she’s not complaining, but sometimes it makes it a little difficult to concentrate in his presence.

Finally, he switches the heat off and turns to place the patties in their buns. Aelin has to admit they look a little better now that they’re cooked, but she’s still not convinced.

He presents her with the plate, wearing a bashful little smile, and she’s taken by how adorable she finds it. He’s actually nervous to hear what she thinks.

She slathers it in ketchup, hoping to make it somewhat palatable and lifts it to her lips, about to take a bite when he speaks.

“We’re eating here?”

Aelin pauses, putting the burger back on her plate. “Where else would we eat?”

Rowan shrugs, still holding his own plate. He doesn’t put any ketchup on his and she’s trying not to be disgusted. She taps the bench next to herself, and Rowan seems to deliberate for a moment before finally hopping up at her side. He towers over her again now that they’re on an even playing field and she likes it. She likes how much bigger he is than her, and likes it even more how she still feels safe with him.

“Okay, now go,” he says, still apprehensive of her reaction, and Aelin makes a big deal of taking a deep breath before her first bite.

She chews it all silently before swallowing, working to keep her expression neutral, and Rowan doesn’t look away from her face the whole time. She purses her lips afterwards, and waits for him to speak.

“So?”

“It’s not terrible,” she admits with a small smile creeping up the sides of her mouth.

Rowan quickly takes his own bite, and she watches the way his fingers dwarf the same bun that fills her hands. He hums his own pleasure.

“Not terrible,” he repeats. “Admit it, it’s good.”

She flips a strand of hair over her shoulder before she takes another bite. She was sceptical -- more than -- when it was still a mush, but she has to admit it’s tasty, and very Rowan. She doesn’t know for sure he’s a health nut, but based on the parts of his body that she’s seen and his distaste for all things sweet, she can guess.

“Maybe,” is all she says before taking another bite. He watches her with a smug smile, one she desperately wants to get rid of. It isn’t helpful that the way she wants to do so is by kissing him.

“Oh!” She jumps down from the counter, throwing her plate to the side, suddenly reminded. “You know what I have that would go perfectly with this?”

She grabs two glasses out of the cupboard and sets them down on the bench in between where she’s been sitting and Rowan. Aelin turns to the fridge before pulling out the small bottle.

Rowan groans, and she tucks the sound to the back of her mind. “Aelin,” he starts. “I don’t want any of that.”

“Come on,” she cries. “A milkshake is an essential with a burger and this is the best I have to offer. If I’d thought ahead I could have at least found a bottle of wine to go with the dinner you cooked for me.”

She’s not entirely sure why she said it, especially when she’s pretty sure she’s deduced that he doesn’t drink, and the reason for it, but it feels like an automatic apology that just slips off her tongue whenever she’s in a setting where alcohol could be a presumption.

Rowan’s expression locks down at her comment and she immediately regrets it.

“Um-” she starts but Rowan clears his throat.

“It’s okay,” he says slowly, avoiding her gaze, “I don’t drink.”

“Oh,” Aelin all but whispers, and it surprises her when Rowan lets out a dark huff of laughter. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m guessing you know why.”

His voice has a somewhat bitter edge to it that she hates.

“I wasn’t-”

She stops when he finally looks up at her and she sees his expression.

“I’m sorry,” she says again quickly and he only shakes his head and pats the counter at his side.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

There’s something in his eyes that makes her retake her seat at his side and pick her burger back up, taking a bite as he takes a breath.

“It’s not something that usually falls into casual dinner conversation.”

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

It’s something she isn’t sure she realised the importance of at first. The offer of whether to share or not. She fights a desperate war inside of herself every time conversations head down a lane like this. The desire to scream her story from the rooftops squaring off against the desperation to remain closed up where no one will ever know what bubbles just below the surface.

Usually privacy wins. Usually she swallows those words down and stays quiet, keeping this reel of pain and loss and tragedy buried deep within, but here with Rowan, tucked away in the kitchen of her temporary home, the words don’t feel so daunting.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s often something that makes other people feel uncomfortable. They pity the guy with the dead fiancée”—Aelin blinks past the way his voice wavers—“but they don’t want to actually hear about it. I’ll spare you the gorey details but after that I couldn’t bring a drink to my lips again. I’ve never so much as considered it — never wanted to.”

There’s an ache beginning in her chest, and she puts her burger back down on her plate. Rowan hasn’t touched his since his first few bites. She desperately wants to comfort him, wants to place a hand on his shoulder and take the pain away any way she can, but she knows from experience that it can’t be done.

This kind of pain, this grief, is something that can’t be taken away. She lives with her grief and her guilt after Sam every day of her life, and she thinks she will forever. No matter how many therapy sessions she goes to, no matter how many days and weeks and months pass, Sam will always be a part of her. Scrawled across her heart in his messy penmanship.

“I understand,” she says quietly. “More than you’d think.”

This is the moment where she could probably finish, where she could twist the conversation back to Rowan and pat his shoulder sympathetically, or where she could tug it to somewhere new and safe.

But she doesn’t often get opportunities like this, in the dim light and the quiet of her flat where the only other sound is the noise coming from the hood above her cooker. She doesn’t often get to talk about this with someone who truly understands.

All of her friends tried in the months after Sam, and gods bless them they still do, but none of them were as close to Sam as she was. They were upset for Aelin and her loss, not at the loss of Sam. And Rowan, who sits next to her staring at the floor, she thinks he could understand.

His gaze lifts from the floor to meet hers as she begins to speak.

“His name was Sam,” she says and Rowan nods.

“I know.”

Aelin feels her breath leave her chest in a whoosh.

“I saw some of the headlines at the time, Aelin I’m so sorry.”

Her jaw works as she tries to find the words, any words, to respond to that. But she’s shaken. She didn’t think anyone knew, or even noticed, outside of her immediate circle. But then she thinks back to the dinner they shared, the way his gaze had burned into her when the conversation had turned to her break. He knows — he has known — and he gets it.

She shakes her head, composing herself enough to speak. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

His lips twist as she repeats his words back to him.

She doesn’t mean to say, “I knew about Lyria too,” but Rowan just nods, breaking their gaze to stare down at where their hands lie beside each other with an expression she can’t read.

Aelin knows she shouldn’t, for any number of reasons, but she reaches out to twine their fingers together atop the marble of her countertop. His fingers are rough and calloused between her own but the thumb he rubs against the back of her hand is gentle and reassuring.

He doesn’t speak, but there isn’t anything Aelin feels the need to say. It’s a kindred kind of silence, one borne of more pain than either of them could bear to speak aloud, and there’s an awful feeling of comfort in it. She knows he’s thinking of Lyria the way she’s thinking of Sam. But there is a part of her mind, a part that’s like a rising sun creeping above the horizon to break the shadow of night, that’s thinking of Rowan too.

Eventually she picks her burger back up again, it’s cold now but she can reluctantly admit it doesn’t taste horrendous. Their fingers stay linked as they each eat single-handedly, building themselves back up to sharing short stories and playful quips.

She’s glad she invited him, her boss or not.

[osamiiya]

Pairing(s): Tendou Satori x Reader

Warnings: None

Type of fic: Angst to fluff

Summary: You find out you're pregnant, but that's not the reaction from Tendou you expected

A/n: I'm absolutely terrible at writing angst, but I thought I'd try :)

Two lines and you grin.

'Satori's going to love this.' You think, placing a hand on your stomach.

You were elated, it felt like you were floating. The two of you had never discussed having children explicitly, but Tendou always mentioned how great of a mother you would be when seeing you interact with kids.

You walk around the house with the test in your hand, excitement coursing through your body, anticipation making the minutes tick by slower than usual.

The lock finally clicks, and you hear a "Darling~" ring throughout the house.

You speed into view, almost tripping with a wide grin on your face.

Tendou's smiling fondly at you, you were a breath of fresh air from the toxic world outside.

"I have something to tell you." You start, bouncing on your toes.

Tendou takes off his shoes and pulls you into an embrace, taking a deep breath and relaxing.

"What is it?" He asks, and you can feel the vibrations in his chest as he rubs your back.

"I'm pregnant." Tendou stops moving, his body rigged.

"What." He whispers, and it's full of pain.

Your heart stops. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. No, you were supposed to laugh together and be happy they you were finally making your family a little bigger.

"I'm pregnant?" It comes out as a question as you lean back to observe Tendou's face.

He's paler than usual and his jaw is set. His hands drop from around you and come up to brush his hair back.

"I need a drink." His voice is weak and sounds forced as he gently pushes by you going into the house.

You're frozen in shock. Your hands are shaking as the gravity of the situation sets in.

'He dosent want a baby.' It repeats like a broken track in your head. You turn around, hands clutching your stomach.

'He won't want me anymore. I have to raise them by myself'

You walk to where Tendou is, body light and husk like.

Tendou's in no better shape, his eyes are wide and his hands are shaking as he lifts the glass in front of him.

"I'm going for a bath." You call out, it's monotone.

You're numb as you sink into the warm water, your body dosent feel like your own.

Tears are dripping into the bathwater, the whole house silent except for the sound of water dripping.

You're numb the whole time, as you rinse the suds off your body, as you dry yourself off with a towel and get dressed.

Lying in bed you try to fall asleep, this was all a bad dream. The bed sinks on one side and you can slightly smell the liquor on Tendou's breath as he examines your face.

"I'm so scared y/n." Your body tenses but Tendou dosent notice.

"I want to have this baby with you, I want to see your beautiful features on this baby."

He lets out a shaky breath. "But I'm Ugly y/n. I'm a monster that you learned to love. If-" His voice catches.

"If our child looked like me I wouldn't know what to do. I'd love them so much. But other people wouldn't y/n." You can hear him clear his throat and take your hand.

"I don't want my kid to be a monster too." Your heart dropped.

"I don't want my kid to be called a monster by their peers, it would destroy me. I don't want them to go through the same thing I did."

"I'm a monster. I look like one and I act like one." You can almost see his face, cheeks red from the alcohol and tears, hands shaking as they run over his face.

"God, I'm so happy you're pregnant. I'm so so happy. But I made you cry. We're happy and I fuck it up because of these stupid insecurities."

He lets out a laugh "If you were awake you'd slap my arm and tell me I'm being ridiculous, and that you love me no matter how I look, and that you'll love this kid even if they look like me."

"I'm just scared y/n. What if my kid thinks I'm a monster. My heart would break beyond repair, I think." the hand gripping yours loosens a little, and he moves to where your stomach is, his hand softly caressing your stomach.

"And you, I bet you're going to be as beautiful as your mama. Y'know you lucked out, having a mother this kind. You'll be kind too. I know you will, and I'll love you until the end of time, when the galaxy explodes." You can feel your shirt get a little wet from tears.

"I love you so much already it can't be healthy." He lets out a watery chuckle and comes back you to your face.

"I love you, my paradise." He kisses your cheek and you shift, halting his movements.

"Don't tell me you were awake." He's suddenly sober as he watches a smile grow on your face.

"I would love it if my child had your features, my god have you seen your baby photos? You were the cutest kid I've ever seen." You open one eyes to see tears streaming down his face, a smile on his lips.

"c'mere." You open your arms and Tendou lies down on your chest, listening to you and your heartbeat as you play with his hair.

"You're going to be a great dad y'know? I'd be the luckiest ever if our kid was like you." Tendou's hands snake down to your stomach.

"Oh, I'm nothing special."

"You're special to me!" You exclaim, slightly hurt.

He laughs softly, stroking your stomach.

9 Months later you had your baby girl, her hair a brilliant red.

Tendou was crying, "She has your eyes." he cried, showing her to Ushijima.

"Look Wakatoshi, she has my hair and my nose."

The nurses all thought he was cute, he never stopped smiling and pushing the sweaty hair out of your face just to kiss you.

"Let's have another!" He exclaims, kissing your baby girl's head.

"Satori, she was born an hour ago." You sigh, he wasn't the one who had to carry and birth her.

"Please y/n?" He looks at you pouting.

"No, you don't understand she was literally born an hour ago." You look to Ushijima, your little girl's godfather, for some help.

"Tendou, a woman can not physically conceive a child an hour after she births her previous one. You must wait at least 3 weeks before y/n can get pregnant again." You scrunch your nose at his monotone explanation.

He catches eye of your facial expression and clears his throat.

"Oh course it is y/ns body and she gets to decide when she would like to get pregnant again."

You roll your eyes slightly and look around the room and then to the little baby in your arms. Somehow, your little family looked a little more complete than it had been before.

[echo-three-one]

Yo! Fic request possibly.

Soap is sent home pretty injured after a mission and his partner takes care of him (in more ways than one if you catch my drift)

Hello anon! I apologize in advance if I bended your request. But If you think of it... the event happened After a Mission and he got Pretty Injured so I'm still on track right?

Anyways enjoy!

⚠️ NSFW tag and it's 1600ish words.

John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

A year had passed

October 11th 2017. 

You gazed outside the hospital you work in, taking a deep breath as the view of construction filled the huge glass window. This was you're longest break for today, it's been ten minutes since someone last paged you and you found it bizarre. But who are you to complain? You're just doing your job, like your boyfriend who's somewhere out there in that building.

You smiled as you remembered him stepping back into the world, after his tragic injury from exactly one year ago. To which you didn't know most of the events that occurred, but you fully remembered how you were there to save his life.

There was some sort of war just by Hotel Lustig, you didn't care much as that day brought in waves of injured persons that the events outside the hospital were too unimportant. But you believed he was one of the persons who got injured by the blast, and it was something only you could fix. 

You took a deep breath, holding your emotions as you remember the first moment you met him. His face was almost lifeless, his pulse was faint but it was there. He had no ID but his uniform told you he was O-Pos.

"We're going to need lots of bags for this man. Hurry and contact the blood bank!" You instructed as you forcefully tore his shirt, which was originally white but now drowned in crimson and reeked of rust. A huge reopened fleshwound from a poorly made stitch, you evaluated. Maybe he didn't have the resources from when he first got operated and now it came back to haunt him. You expertly did your thing as the nurses behind you quickly assisted you, trying to impress you as they aspire to be part of the program. 

It took you almost two hours until the life slowly went back to his face. A face you have been staring at every chance you have. A face you hoped to see smile someday. Then there it was, a stable heartbeat. Nurses cheered around you as well as those watching from above. He lived.

"Doctor L/N!!" Someone called over the walkie talkie. You quickly snapped back to reality and replied with urgency. It's your boyfriend. He broke his arm while on construction.

You pushed the double doors open as soon as you reached the emergency room. You could spot him from afar as his haircut stood out from the crowd, a mohawk that you grew to love.

"John!"  You gasped and rushed to his aid, as the nurse secured the strap of his sling.

"Love! I'm glad to see you here." he grinned, almost looking proud at his injury. He looked like he just got a new tattoo or something. Far from the emotion of being hurt.

"What happened? Does it hurt?" you checked his chart, momentarily looking at him.

"Just a minor fall. That ladder was not as stable as it looked." he chuckled, his other hand held yours and you quickly looked at him in the eye. Lost in his cold blue orbs, your heart thumped as his eyes told you he was fine and how you looked beautiful in that outfit.

"What about your wound? Did it hurt after the fall?" You shook yourself off from his trance and unbuttoned his shirt, checking for signs of reopening.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Not here and not now, Love. Lot's of people are watching." he joked, you sigh at his attitude towards the situation. He was too chill about this.

"So, when will you be off?" he winked as he comfortably sat on he hospital bed, tapping the other side, inviting you to sit down.

"I'm actually off duty now." you reply as you accept his invitation and sunk your ass on the soft matress beside him, pulling the sky blue curtain inward, covering the two of you from the public eyes.

You slowly leaned on his strong shoulders, shoulders that you massaged after his recovery so he could stand up again, shoulders you leaned on when you were having trouble at work. You felt his arm wrap around you, his hands grazed through your coat as he slowly rubs it against your arm.

"Guess I'm driving home." you chuckled and he laughed, looking at you as he held your cheek. 

"Does my insurance cover my fees here?" he asked, breaking the vibe of whatever you were both feeling. 

"I'll check on it later. For now, let's take you home."

"Sounds good to me."

***

You slumped yourself on your side of the bed, leaning to a peacefully sleeping John MacTavish beside you. You stared at the scar on his chest as it rises and falls in sync with his breathing, your night music just before falling asleep. 

You remembered how you carefully stitched his wound, how you poured out your heart to save this person, a person who didn't mean to you the moment you saw him but now means the whole world to you. 

Putting your finger on his scar, you slowly traced its tracks across his chest, enjoying the feel of his skin. He snorted and slowly opened his eyes, smiling at the view.

"Hey you." he whispered, moving your hair behind your ear pulling you over for a kiss. You didn't hesitate but you were cautious, you were careful not to hit his injured arm. But all that focus began to fade away as your lips met his, tongues clashed in an epic battle of passion like two expert fencing athletes on a clash to see who's the best.

You gasped as you broke the kiss, panting and smiling as his blue eyes sparkled against the moonlight outside the window.

"It's been a year since I first saw you, my angel. Don't think that I forgot about that." he murmured. His Scottish accent sounded so well, you can't get enough of it, it's as if each word vibrated across your body.

You slowly lifted your leg and straddled on him, positioning your ass on a spot that's going to make him beg. He grunted softly as you detected the tone of lust from him. He was clearly enjoying the tease, so you raised your eyebrows at him and slowly shook your hips teasingly against him.

"Are we really going this way?" he complained as his hand reached out to your hips, sliding below your shirt and letting his electric touch on your hip send shivers down your spine. His thumbs make its way just below your breasts, the tip of the big finger grazing the lower part of your left breast.

"Which way?" you asked teasingly as you feel his manhood slowly grow. You pull the string that held his sweatpants and ran your hands across his abs, feeling each bump, admiring his feel.

"This way." he smirked as he thrusted his hips upward, making you yelp in surprise. Looks like he's trying to turn back the tables which is something you always loved. Him in charge. The thought made your hairs rise, as you remembered all those times he did it in this apartment ; in the showers, in the kitchen, by the dining table oh and this exact bed.

One thing led into another until you found yourself on all fours, facing the wall as you whimpered in pain as his cock slowly slid on your wet opening. He once told you that he hated dogs, but that didn't stop him from using this position, but this time only one hand was tightly gripping your plump ass.

You let out short gasps as he picks up his pace, the creaking sound of the bed got louder and louder as his thrusts became faster and deeper. You moaned on his every thrust, mentally noting the feel of his whole manhood inside of you. How his tip interacted with your sensitive walls. How his groans and whispers of endearment enter your ear and go straight to your memory banks, a part of the brain you're supposed to know but now reduced to simpler terms because all you could think of right now is how much you love this man and how this sex is a message of both your feelings.

He pulled himself out as you both gasp, he quickly moved himself to your lips not letting you a chance to catch for air. You grabbed his hair and gripped it tight, tilting your head for a better angle. You could feel his tip poking at your entrance as he placed himself between your hips.

"Please John, show me how much you love me." you whispered, lustful intentions wrapped in your tone. You could feel him smirk just before he kisses you once again, his tongue doing marvelous wonders inside your mouth as his cock slowly enters inside you, slamming it hard making the bed creak.

You whimpered in surprise but as soon as he stopped, you gripped his back signaling him to keep doing it. You could feel his cast rest on your breasts as he picks up the pace once again, this time the bed was shaking dangerously, creaking loudly while doing so. You both ignored this as the loud clapping of your skin mixed with your collective grunts, groans and moans rung on your ears while your mind swirled in a pleasure filled moment.

With one final groan, he burst his load inside you, the hot rush of liquids fill your insides making you pant and smile. He looked at you, sweat trickled from his forehead, mouth open gasping for air. He chuckled and leaned back, as your bed suddenly snapped, sending you both a few inches lower.

Complete silence. You both realized what just happened and laughed. That was some wild fucking.

"Bloody hell, we broke the bed!" he muttered seductively while you were laughing almost losing air. 

"That we did." you replied and smiled at him, thanking the threads of destiny that you met this wonderful man on this fateful day, one year ago.