#if you're still reading these tags... props to you man

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Not much has been shared yet for the Nicky day of the week which has me thinking that *I* wanna draw a Nicky to share but... That would require... Drawing and... Liking what I draw...

[chrissv4mp]

- I COULD CHANGE YOUR LIFE —

chap 3 , come visit me in jail — | — ...back — | — next...

summary: the morning after you and chris bond, he just seems to fall deeper in love with you and your amazing personality. he falls so deep that when he sees a negative comment on your recent instagram post, he feels he has no choice but to do something about it.

pairing: stalker!chris × singer!reader

warnings + topics: cursing, stalking, weapons, murder, blood, obsessive behavior, breaking & entering, crying, chris is crazy, choking, drowning, etc. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE TOPICS.

author's note: here's where it starts to get intense.....👀

author's note 2: series title mention in this one has me floating🗣🗣

word count: 6.6k

"bet i could change your life."

y/nwhosthat

liked by nicolassturniolo, oliviarodrigo and others

y/nwhosthat you're never gonna believe it

view all 678 comments

mysteriousman no tag in the first photo i see....

-> y/nwhosthat didn't even know there were tags on this app??

-> y/nsonlylove says the girl who uses them in every single one of her posts🙁 u got them searching for answers now

hearts4chrissy i know my man's hands when i see them chris honey come home💔

latinosfory/n they are reaching omg😭

matthew.sturniolo all these rumors and im still focused on the frank ocean lyrics🤷‍♂️

-> y/nwhosthat everyone should be focused on his inspiring lyrics

-> wishingherwell MATT???

theyenvy.michael ugly ass girl tf get off this app👎

chris feels a sudden anger wash over him as he reads the most recent comment on y/n's post, and his hand wraps even tighter around his phone before he clicks on the guy's profile.

he's 20, and he's also in boston. chris scrolls down, cringing at his weird objectifying comment in his bio, "ho's are only useful in the kitchen, i stand by my statement🤷‍♂️"

fucking douchebag, chris thinks as he scrolls down on his page. he clicks on michael's recent post and is met with a mirror picture of the boy in his messy bedroom. there's posters of half-naked girls and polaroids of him and his friends on the white walls behind him.

he scrolls left, and there's a video. chris doesn't even need to watch it because when he sees the first frame, he already knows he might lose it. the first frame shows off michaels blurry foot only inches away from a small puppy on the side of the road. the brunette feels sick already. how many red flags did this guy have?

another scroll and chris finds himself looking at a blurred picture of michael and his friend hugging. only one normal photo in this entire dump. chris doesn't even want to scroll down further on his page.

as he turns off his phone and throws it to the side, his free hand clenches into a fist. chris has never felt this angry before, and just the thought of michaels comment makes him even angrier.

before getting up, he grabs his phone. he runs up the stairs, heading straight for nicks room as he barges in. he stands at the doorway and watches as his brother jumps in shock.

his hair is still messy, not having time to do it before chris came in, "chris, what the fuck!"

"oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack. fuck you," the older boy grumbles before walking over to his bed and sitting at the edge, "what'd you need?"

nick's tone is softer now, and he pats the side of his bed in a motion for chris to come over and sit. chris does just that, taking a few deep breaths before he throws himself back against his brothers bed.

"i don't know. i wanted to ask if you've ever felt so angry that you just wanna destroy everything around you." chris sighs, propping himself up on his elbows to look at the dark-haired boy beside him.

he just laughs softly, nodding, "yeah, almost always. why, what's going on?" there's a subtle look of concern on his face, and chris frowns.

chris shrugs, eyes trailing off to look at the wall across from him, "i was... reading comments, and i saw one that infuriated me like nothing did before. and, nick, i know you've told me not to let 'em get to me, but..." he takes his lower lip between his teeth, "this time it was on a loved-ones post, and i can't control it anymore."

nick frowns, his concern rising as his eyes meet his brothers, "okay. just talk to me, i don't want you doing anything... bad this time. remember what matt and i have told you to do when you feel that way. take deep breaths, yeah?"

chris' eyes widen at his brother's first words, his chest feeling tighter as he suddenly finds it harder to breathe. his mind wanders back to that night.

"hey!" a man's voice is heard from behind chris and his brothers, and the younger boy is the first to turn. he recognizes that voice, and it only ticks him off further.

chris waves his hand, a small gesture that even makes him cringe. why was he wasting his energy on this dick? the guy doesn't wave back, only scoffing as he stomps in chris' direction.

"what's up?" there's a faux look of happiness on the brunettes face as he steps forward, now right in front of the much taller guy, "c'mon, talk that shit you were spitting all over madi's posts, you weren't scared when you posted it."

the brown-eyed man laughs, tilting his head as he squints his eyes at chris, "i'm not scared now, either. the fuck? i said she was a dumb bitch who can't even—"

chris doesn't even let him finish, his head filling with so many thoughts he couldn't even comprehend. his entire body felt hot, like he was on fire. the one thought that was screaming out to him finally pushed it's way in front, kill him.

he lands the first hit on the guys cheek, and it's not soft. he doesn't stop either, his free hand coming up to punch the man in the stomach. his motions are quick, and he doesn't give the man time to think before punching him right in the nose.

the blond stumbles back, coughing as his nose leaks red down to his lip. his head turns back up, looking right as chris before he stomps up to him and swings right at his face.

nick gasps as he watches chris fall to the ground, his lip and nose already bleeding red. matt comes up to the guy, standing between his brother and the infuriated man in front of him, "hey, hey, let's calm down, yeah? this was a misunderstanding."

"misunderstanding? no, i don't think it is. i know what i said, and i'm not gonna take it back. who even are you, you look like a fuckin' mamas boy."

matt inhales sharply, looking back up at the man before he begins to speak again, "listen, we don't want this to get any more violent than it's already become. let's just talk about it?"

the taller man laughs, wiping his bloodied nose with the back of his hand as he looks down at matt, "nah, you're little boyfriend over there can speak for himself. wait, he can't, can he? pussy ass bitch."

chris groans as he stands to his feet, nick hurrying to grab him before he does anything worse and possibly get sent to the hospital.

matt only sighs, his skin starting to crawl slightly at the man's words, "we're not doing this, sir. my brother didn't mean anything, and we're sorry, okay? let's just leave it at that."

he feels himself get pushed back, and only then does he look up at the brown-eyed boy.

"matt, let's go." nick calls from behind him, eyes moving to the beaten-up guy in front of his two brothers, "we're leaving, it's over now!" he yells to the guy, dragging chris by his shoulders in the opposite direction.

chris struggles against his older brothers grip, and when he digs his nails into nicks skin, he finally lets go. matt is pushed out of the way as chris lunges toward the man.

his hands go for his neck, squeezing tightly as they both stumble to the ground. chris' fall is shielded by the body under him, but the older man's fall isn't. chris doesn't hear the crack as they fall to the floor, his head pounding so loudly he can barely even hear his brothers screaming at him to stop.

but he doesn't, tears brimming in his eyes as he remembers the look on his best friends face as she showed him. chris never wanted madi to feel that way ever again, and he was gonna make sure she never did.

"chris, get the fuck off of him!" matt almost screams, his voice low as to not alert anybody around the area.

nick stands there in shock, the empty parking lot now feeling much bigger than it was. he felt like if he ran he would never be able to escape.

chris sobs as matt drags his weak body off the unconscious guy, holding his brother in his arms as they fall to the floor softly. matts grip is tight on his younger brothers waist as he holds him close, his eyes wide in fear as he watches blood pool around the blonds head.

"fuck. i'm sorry, matt," chris doesn't know what else to say, he doesn't even know why he's apologizing to his brother, "'m sorry, i—i didn't mean to.."

matt drowns out the sound of nick gagging behind him as he tries to reassure the brunette in his arms, shushing his softly as he looks around for any passerby who maybe saw what happened.

nick is hunched over, his back facing both of his brothers as he throws up. this wasn't the type of night he was expecting, and it sure as hell was the one he's experienced, "oh my god, chris."

"did you fucking kill him..?" nick gags again at the thought, not even being able to turn around to look at the body.

"chris." the brunette jumps at the sudden voice, his eyes snapping towards his brother as he finally comes back to reality, "were you listening? i said that—"

"yeah, yeah. i was... listening." chris smiles sweetly before jumping off the bed and going to leave, "thanks, nick. seriously."

the taller boy smiles, and chris gives him an awkward wave before closing the door and making his way down the stairs.

his fingers run across the handrail as he descends down the stairs, the smooth texture soothing him in the slightest but then being taken away as he turns the corner to the kitchen.

eating would get his mind off things. plus, he hasn't eaten since lunch yesterday, going straight to bed after he got home from y/ns house. he felt like he had the world in his hands and he didn't want anybody to ruin that, so he just slept.

sleeping always made him feel better, more energized, and somehow even happier. but when he woke up and had to face the real world, he just felt weaker, smaller. he felt like all eyes were on him and everybody around him was judging him.

as chris reaches for a cabinet, his phone buzzes in his back pocket. great, just what he needed. grabbing it, he unlocks it with his face and then swipes down for his notifications. his face lights up, and his lips curve into a smile as he sees y/ns username at the top.

he quickly taps on the text, holding the device with both hands as he leans against the corner of the counter, now too focused on his phone to even remember what he came in here to do.

chris' demeanor changes quickly at the new information that michael is y/ns ex-boyfriend. he hasn't let her go, and that was gonna be a huge obstacle in his plan.

he'd need to get rid of him, and he'd need to do it quickly. they always sooner than later, right? it's better to get the job done first than to set it aside and maybe even forget about the task.

chris also wasn't interested in seeing michaels comments on y/ns posts any longer. sure, this was the first time he's seen them, but the boy definitely wasn't gonna stop and chris never wanted to see that fucking profile picture again.

so, that's how he found himself running down the second flight of stairs and down the hallway to his room. he knew what he needed, he thought about this entire thing before he'd even met michael. he was planning on using this for jamie, but then he wouldn't be able to hear your beautiful voice for way longer.

michael was the perfect victim as well. he wasn't well known, and he sure as hell wasn't a likable person, so who would miss him or even notice his sudden disappearance? fuck, even chris wouldn't and he was gonna be the one doing the job.

the door to his room swung open, and chris immediately headed for his walk-in closet, shutting the door as to make sure no one would see him. he couldn't have his brothers knowing, they'd probably put him in a mental institution this time.

chris turned around, back facing the door as he moved his shirts, spreading them apart to reveal the small shelf behind the clothing articles. there was another black box, but this time it was wooden and a little bigger than the one he kept for y/n.

he wasn't careful when opening the box, throwing the lid behind him and hearing the small thud as it landed on the carpet. he reached into the box, pulling out a safety pin to unlock the doors. the last thing he pulled out was a lengthy knife, the handle fitting perfectly in his grip.

chris didn't know anything about actual murderers, but he definitely got a good knife to do the job. maybe he wouldn't even have to use it, he didn't really want to, either. he wanted his hands around that boys neck while he begged for chris to take mercy on him.

he wanted to see tears brimming in his eyes as the life was being squeezed out of him, slowly. chris knew that he wanted michael to have a slow death, a painful one, and suffocating was definitely up on his list.

before rearranging his closet again, chris placed the lid back on and grabbed his items. he took his backpack as well, storing the 2 small items in there along with some binders to cover them up. he was sure someone would recognize him out here, and he wasn't gonna risk anything.

he slipped on a dark grey hoodie along with a black jacket, finishing off the outfit with some black jeans and a pair of black air forces. it was a sketchy outfit, but who cared? chris was breaking into someone's house. he didn't need to be stylish right now.

all that was on his mind was michael and the many options of how he could do this. chris paced back and forth in the empty space of his room, rubbing his temples in an effort to soothe the growing headache that he was facing. his mind was screaming with every possible thought imaginable, some of them telling him to back out and others telling him to man up and stop being a pussy.

chris would hold off a little longer, though. it was still bright out and he wasn't gonna do this in the daylight, he wasn't that uneducated in things like this. he'd watched some serial killer documentaries, so he'd say he knew... stuff.

it was 2:55 when he stopped thinking about the entire thing, his head going elsewhere as hunger overcame him. now he remembered what he was in the kitchen for earlier, a snack.

as chris walks up the stairs, he sees matt leaning against the kitchen counter on his phone. there's a smirk on his face as he chuckles softly at whatever he was watching.

the microwave is on, the buzz being the only sound other than matts quiet breathing and chris' footsteps entering the kitchen. he's still dressed in his black outfit, and matt puts his phone to the side just to look his brother up and down.

"are you on your way to a funeral or..?" matt questioned with a smile on his face, cocking an eyebrow at chris as he finally stepped foot into the kitchen. the first thing he did was grab a pepsi, setting it on the dining table before leaning down to open the freezer.

"no, just decided to wear whatever i first saw. i'm going out with sam tonight, so i probably won't be back until late." chris hums as he pulls out a mini pizza before walking over to where matt is standing.

matt moves over slightly, looking up to check the timer on the microwave only to see it's been just a few seconds. he groans as his head turns back to chris, watching as he takes the frozen pizza out of the box and sets it on a metal pan.

he preheats the oven and then lets the pizza sit on the stove as he goes over to sit at the table. matt joins him soon after, deciding to chat with his brother to pass the time.

"where are you goin'?" the older brunette asks, picking at the hang nails that stood out on his fingers. he winced as he pulled one off, shaking his hand by his side in an effort to stop the pain.

chris looks over at his brother, emotion unreadable as he stares at his brother with nothing behind his eyes, "oh. we're gonna.. meet up with this guy. he says he's got somethin' to show us."

matt nods, confusion washing over him as he sees chris' dilated pupils. it couldn't be the lighting, they just replaced the bulbs and it wasn't even dark yet. what was he thinking about?

"cool...? just be safe, i don't want anything bad happening to you." matt huffs, patting his brothers shoulder before getting up to check on his food.

chris turns in his seat, watching as matt stops the microwave and takes out his bowl of ramen, "i'm always safe, don't worry about me, matt. we're the same age, and you treat me like a baby."

matt raises both of his eyebrows in an exasperated manner, grabbing a fork out of a cabinet as he blows on the steaming bowl, "yeah, i wonder why."

chris laughs, "fuck off, matt." his brother chuckles as he walks past chris and back up the stairs to his room, leaving chris alone with his thoughts. again.

the brunette made a quiet beat on the table, tapping it and nodding his head as he recreated the beat to one of his favorite songs. once the oven beeped, chris got up and placed the metal tray into the oven and set a timer.

chris went to sit back down, stopping when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket again. this time, it wasn't a text from y/n, but a dm from her ex. michael.

theyenvy.michael — the fuck is you trying to steal my girl for?

you — im not? y/n is just my friend, kid. also aren't u her ex? ong ur trying too hard

theyenvy.michael — nah, she's my bitch fr. stay tf away from her, aight?

you — right. bcuz she's totally okay with u calling her a bitch. get tf off my dick....

you — she fr dodged a bullet when breaking up w you. ur profile is not it.

theyenvy.michael — ur not bouta dodge my bullet👎 watch out bro

chris scoffed, cracking open the lid of his pepsi as he took a sip. who did this kid think he was? chris wasn't scared of him. if anything, michael should be afraid. he should be terrified of what's about to happen tonight.

but he's not gonna be because he's not gonna know. chris loved taking people by surprise, jumping out at the perfect moment, and having a good laugh about it. only tonight, chris would be the only one laughing. chris would be the only one still alive to laugh.

the brunette glanced at the time again, 3:20. he didn't want to wait but he had to, nobody could see him. if anybody did, he would be the main suspect in the murder. chris couldn't even have a single thing that would point at him. chris couldn't even have y/—

"chris!" nick's voice breaks chris out of his trance, his head snapping towards the staircase that nick basically flies down, "oh my gosh, you're never gonna believe me!"

the brunettes eyes widen in terror, his mind racing with endless ideas as he looks to his brother for answers, the same expression on his face, "what? nick, what happened?!"

nick squealed, gripping onto chris' shoulders as he shook him violently, "there's a track on y/ns new album featuring melanie!"

chris' face drops, and he almost shoves his brother to the floor as he stands to his feet, "you are by far the worst person to announce news ever." he scowls, turning around to check on his mini pizza.

"come on, it's huge news! i seriously didn't know that y/n and melanie knew each other and oh my gosh! the song title just makes me even more excited—" nick trails off as he stares at chris, who is taking the metal tray out of the oven and placing it on the stove.

"and you're not listening." nick frowns, and chris parts his lips to speak.

"oh, no, i am. i just don't find this topic interesting, seeing as you're the only person in this house who cares about melanie martinez." chris shrugs, and nick raises an eyebrow at the boy as he leans against the dining table.

"what's up your your ass? you were just all happy-go-lucky, and now you're acting like a dick. did someone say something or...?" nick asks, head tilting in confusion as he watches chris transfer his pizza to a paper plate.

the younger brunette sighs, letting his shoulders relax as he shuts his eyes softly, "sorry. i'm just stressed, there's a bunch of things on my mind right now."

"like what?" nick pushes quietly, taking chris' previous seat the table.

chris stays silent, eyes opening again as he holds his breath. once his face begins to turn red, he speaks, "uh, work. social media, stuff like that."

nick sighs, nodding, "we can always take a break, you know?"

a break, seriously? chris thinks to himself. how could chris ever catch a break and let himself relax while all this was happening around him? he had to keep y/n safe, he had to get rid of anything and anyone who bothered her, and he had to film videos with his brothers. he just couldn't find time to let himself rest.

"i can't." he finally mutters, staring down at the marble counter as his fingers tap against it. he hears nick get up behind him.

then, he feels a hand on his shoulder, "you can, chris. just take things slow, focus on yourself for a little while. i promise you'll feel better." his voice is soft, calming, reassuring.

but chris doesn't know if he can trust that little change of tone. it wasn't that easy to just let everything go, not for him at least.

he couldn't even let a simple comment go past him. chris just always needed to do something about it and he hated it. he hated that he was like this. why was he like this?

chris didn't even know he crying until nick started to pat his back, muttering, "it's okay, i got you. let it out."

what was happening to him?

christophersturniolo

liked by ysbtril, matthew.sturniolo and others

christophersturniolo impulse

view all 238 comments

matthew.sturniolo kids off his meds

-> christophersturniolo kid is alive

y/nwhosthat u said u were going to sleep, ur really breaking my heart christopher💔

*liked by creator*

-> trevssturn these secret relationship rumors are starting to become a lil believable...

-> matthewslovee babe the rumors are based off one post😭 let's settle down

nicolassturniolo oh brother what's he on about now

-> christophersturniolo shhh im plotting👀

xx4mygf notice how the only comment he hasn't replied to is y/ns

theyenvy.michael im ong coming for you lil boy

-> christophersturniolo stop meat riding bru

8:45, chris stood on the sidewalk across from michaels house. he turned his head down, looking at the picture he had screenshotted of a car, michaels car in his driveway.

he found it when scrolling deeper, almost throwing up at all the horrific things he found on the page. he was surprised nobody had reported him yet, he was sick. michael had also been stupid enough to take a picture of himself right in front of the 4 numbers on his house.

as for the street, well chris didn't need to search much for that either. again, michael led him right to it, posting a video of himself walking down the sidewalk with his friends as they laughed about something stupid.

chris was waiting here for a few minutes, pacing up and down the sidewalk so as not to seem suspicious and get caught by michaels neighbors. he didn't want to get asked any questions today, especially not when he was right in front of his first victims house.

as he started to get impatient, chris looked around before running across the street and quickly jumping the fence. he landed on his feet perfectly and quietly snuck to the back door of the house, looking around the house through the sliding glass door.

sliding his backpack off his shoulders, he kneeled in front of the lock, grabbing the safety pin before sticking it into the key-hole and twisting it around. he took his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration as he continued to try and pick at the lock, smiling when he heard the click.

as he stood up, throwing the safety pin somewhere behind him in the grass and throwing his backpack on his shoulders again, he slid the door open carefully. he listened to the soft sounds of the neighborhood, trying to pick up any sound of talking or footsteps coming closer.

when he didn't, he threw the door open and stepped in before shutting the door again. his fingertips slid across the dusty frame of the door carelessly before he shut it again and traveled deeper into the house.

his eyes landed on the freezer first before roaming all around the kitchen. it was trashed, like nobody had lived here in ages and rats had taken over, but there were none, only open chip bags and splatters of unknown sauce. crumbs adorned the floor, crunching under chris' feet as he took steps toward the fridge.

what's the harm in getting a little snack? he was hungry due to walking here all the way from his house, and michael wouldn't mind. he would he gone, so who would care?

chris grabbed an orange popsicle from the freezer before closing it and making his way to the living room. he took a seat at the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table as he licked at the frozen treat.

when the brunette had finished it, he threw the damp stick into the garbage by the entertainment center before walking to the window at the front of the house. he kneeled in front of his, elbows resting on the windowsill as he waited for michael.

as he waited, his backpack suddenly felt heavier on his shoulders, the feeling of guilt and regret starting to wear on him. was he seriously gonna do this? it wasn't like he didn't want to. it was just that... he didn't even know, honestly.

he knew he was doing it for him and y/ns relationship, so they could live happily with no distractions or obstacles. but, then again, they would still have to face arguments, the publics opinion, and the many rumors that would start to spread. that's why, when chris finally gets you, you'll both flee the city and live somewhere together. alone where nobody could find you guys.

sure, chris would have to explain why, but it didn't matter. if you really loved him, you wouldn't care the things he's done to get there. or maybe you will. maybe you'll hate him and turn him into the cops. if that's the case, then chris might just have to get rid of—

"hey!" chris jumped at the muffled sound of a mans voice, and he turned his head to look in the direction of it, "come on, oscar."

it was michael, tugging roughly on the leash of his dog so as to get him to follow michael. the dog did follow him, his head hung low as his paws patted the concrete below them with quiet thuds.

chris just wanted to rush him right now, but he couldn't. he had to wait until he was inside, catch him off guard in the safety of his own home where he thought everything was normal. he would take care of the dog later in a... better way than what he'd do with his owner.

he jumped back as he heard the brown-eyed boys' footsteps, leaving the windowsill as he made his way further into the house. he hid in a closet down the hallway, shutting the door with a quiet thud as he stayed as still as he possibly could.

the door opened, and chris heard the click of the leash being undone, followed by the footsteps of both michael and oscar. chris watched through the blinds of the closet as michael put his dog into the metal kennel before shrugging his own backpack off and placing it on top of the kennel.

he walked down the hallway, and chris swore he felt michaels eyes staring right into his. he shuddered at the feeling, tensing up when michael neared and round the corner to his room.

chris heard a door open, and then rummaging. the brunette quickly jumped out of the closet and turned the corner, walking into michaels room and seeing his back turned as he faced his own closet. chris' eyes flickered between his bathroom and michael before he stepped closer.

when michael began to turn, chris threw his backpack off and grabbed the black-haired boy by the hood of his jacket, tugging him backward and hearing him gag.

"what the f—" chris quickly shut him up by throwing him against his wall harshly, hearing michael gasp as the wind was knocked out of him.

his eyes widened as chris stomped toward him, his hands going straight for the neck as he began to squeeze. the brunette felt another cold pair of hands on his as he stared michael in the eyes, his brown ones wide and filled with terror as he recognized chris.

chris' just stared, a smile creeping onto his face as he pressed michael harder against the wall. the shorter boy strained against him, choked noises falling from his lips with the little air he had.

"help—" a strangled cry left him, eyes brimming with tears as his vision became blurry. chris noticed, and he almost felt guilty. almost, "plea—sorry! i.."

this wasn't enough for chris. sure, michael would die in his hands, slowly and painfully, but chris wanted him to really feel it. when michaels eyes started to flutter shut, chris let go of him, letting the boy stumble to the ground.

the brown-eyed boy gasped for air, grasping his neck softly and rubbing the area where chris had squeezed. there was anger slowly creeping into him, the fear now long gone as his eyes darted around the messy room.

michael began to crawl, and chris let him. the brunette didn't let the boy go far, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him toward the hallway. michael kicked his feet, grunting but not even trying to yell. he was still confident he could win the fight, and chris gave him credit for that.

"let me go you fuckin' freak!" he struggled, and chris just ignored him as he continued to drag him down the hallway and to the bathroom, "bark, you useless piece of shit!" michael yelled at his dog, and oscar only looked at him sadly.

chris kicked the boy in the back, making him cry out before throwing him further into the small bathroom. the brunette shut the door, locking it before turning around to grab michael again.

he grabbed him by his hair again before throwing him against the wall just for the fun of it, smiling as he saw the hurt look on the shorter boys face. chris stepped further into the bathroom, leaning over the tub as he went to turn the water on. he reached his hand in, plugging the drain and watching as the water began to fill up.

michaels eyes widened in terror, his hopes going down as he watched chris turn back to him. more tears fell from his eyes as his body began to tremble. he felt pain everywhere, and he couldn't even move an inch without feeling a sharp sting. chris squatted in front of the boy, tilting his head as his hoodie fell off his head.

"where did that tough boy on the internet go, huh? or are you seriously just a poser." chris scoffed, taunting the boy with a sadistic smile on his face. when michael didn't answer, chris began to yell, "answer me!"

michael winced, sniffling as he listened to the water in the tub, "i don't have to answer to you, asshole. you're not gonna fuckin' do anything. you're scared."

chris raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly as he moved closer. he watched as michael flinched, and only then did a pang of guilt hit him. his smile dropped, and he just stared michael in the eyes. his gaze was dark, full of anger, guilt, sadness, and so many more emotions he couldn't even comprehend.

"i'm not scared, michael. you're shaking, look at you. you should be absolutely terrified of what's to come. nobody will notice you're gone because you're a fucking maniac that nobody loves. not even y/n still loves you, kid, you're trying too hard." chris masks his feelings with a smile, patting michaels cheek in a teasing manner before standing up to check on the tub again.

he turns the handle, stopping the water from flowing out before his turns back to the brown-eyed boy on the floor, "never said i was a nice guy, did i?" chris laughs at the scared expression on his face, walking over to him and watching as he tries to crawl away.

chris only grabs him by the hair again, dragging him harshly toward the tub as he hears michael scream and cry for mercy, begging chris to let him go. chris ignores him, resting his free hand on the edge of the tub as he drags michael toward him.

his knees are on the tiled floors, and chris gives him a soft wave before dunking his head into the cold water and watching as bubbles erupt from the boys nose and up to the surface. chris only watches with a blank expression, his stomach twisting as he feels the shorter boys hands trying to push him away but slipping and falling to his sides.

chris holds his ground, his grip on michaels hair tight as he pushes him deeper. his entire upper half is almost over the edge now, and chris doesn't realize until he feels water splash onto his cheek. his eyes move to michaels arms, flailing in the water and making a mess of the bathroom. his head turns to look at the bathroom door, taking deep breaths as he feels tears prick in his eyes.

he chokes on his spit, eyes closing as he tries to drown out the noises of splashing water and endless gurgling. chris' knuckles turn white as he grips tighter on both the tub and michaels black hair, finally starting to sniffle as tears begin to run down his face. he didn't know what he was doing, but there was no going back now. chris couldn't let michael go because if he did, the boy would only go to the cops and snitch on him. chris was past the point of no return, so he just let the whole thing happen.

the brunette begins to sob as the sounds of splashing die down, his grip on michaels hair finally loosening as he lets his entire body fall into the tub full of water. chris holds his face in his hands as he stays in a squat, his left hand soaking half of his face.

"shit, shit, shit. god, you're such an idiot, chris!" he scolds himself quietly, wiping his tears before he gets to his feet and takes even deeper breaths.

he's still not put together fully, but he pushes through it, looking back to michaels lifeless body before he leans over and grabs his hand. his fingers are still adorned with rings, and chris just takes the first one he sees and stuffs it into the back pocket of his jeans. chris quickly unlocks the door before walking back to the bedroom, taking careful steps as he looks around for his backpack.

when he spots it, he throws it over his shoulder, slipping into the straps hurriedly before leaving the room and walking down the hallway towards the kitchen. he takes the leash off the top of oscars kennel before he unlocks the metal crate, letting the dog out.

"hey, buddy," chris coos, petting his head softly as he sniffles once again, "i'm gonna find a better home for you, i promise. i'm so sorry."

oscar only whines, and chris just latches the leash onto his collar before guiding him through the living room. he takes another long look around, a millions feelings eating him up inside all at once. he doesn't feel regret... he doesn't even know what he feels.

chris freezes when he finally hears it. sirens. sirens coming closer and closer to the house that he stood in, "fuck. fuck, fuck, what—"

the brunette looks around, turning back quickly before sprinting through the kitchen and darting towards the backdoor. chris throws the door open, not even caring about the loud banging sound as he runs out of the house, the leash tightly wrapped around his hand.

"come on, boy!" chris yells as quietly as he can, and oscar continues to gallop behind him. he continues to make his way through the backyard, trying not to focus on the sirens that grow increasingly louder. how hasn't he realized the silent alarm? he was too caught up in his plan to see the red alarm above the backdoor.

chris opens the metal gate, running down the back alleyway and deeper into the neighborhood, not stopping even when he crosses the road. he loosens his grip on the leash as he makes it far enough from the house, hunching over as he tries to catch his breath.

he turns to check on oscar, giving him a few gentle pets before he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. his hands find the small ring, and he pulls it out with a smile.

this ring would be on your finger someday, and chris wouldn't feel even a small amount of guilt for what he had done. he hoped you wouldn't resent him for it, either. that would just mess the entire thing up, and he didn't want to hurt you.

but for now, he'd just have to live with the memory.

"you could be my wife."

comment to be on this taglist!

@livialifesblog @zayyluvz @1800-love-me @snowysosturn @mirioosos

@ladyy-whistle-d0wn @ginswife @spideylovin @dej4vhs @strnlxlqve

@joemamaaa42069 @fratbrochrisgf @slut4chriss @h3arts4harry @str4wberryk1ss3s

@riasturns @yurpppppy @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @asimp4chris @byneptunee

@ilove2021chris @freshloveforthefit @sturniologals @ifwdominicfike @sturnsdoll

@3lizaluvs @matt444nixi @nikki-starx @notmylaa11 @jetaimevous

@fionaheartswomen @sturni0l0 @sturniolofannn @sturniolofannnlmao @demzzz

@n3-vaeh @melanch0lybby @viiiwwwee @johnniesverr @kaisturni

@chrissfawn

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 11

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: it's a new week

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your phone buzzes against your leg, ripping you back to reality. Your eyes widen and drift away from the stream of font. You sit up and mark the page with your finger as you reach for the jittering cell. 

You scramble to grab onto it and hesitate to hit the big green button. The screen doesn't look like usual, not that you get many calls. You tap the button and the image changes at once, Bucky startling you as he appears. 

"Hey, doll," he grins and winks at you, moving the camera to lean against something. "How's it going?" 

"Uhhhh," you drone, surprised. He can see you too. You know by the little reflection of yourself in the corner. "Hi. Fine." You put the book down with no mind to losing the page, "um, you?" 

"You busy, doll?" 

"Reading but... no." 

"Mm," he hums, "glad to see you enjoying your treats but... no pajamas?" 

He steps back and you get a view of him from waist up, the edge of a counter in the lower edge. You pout then give a sheepish smile, "sorry, I haven't... had a chance." 

"That's okay, doll, I just wanted a peek before I went to work," he undoes his shirt button by button and pulls it off, revealing his muscular torso. You gulp at the lines of his muscle along his stomach, "why don't you put them on now and give me a look." 

"Oh, uh..." you glance at the wall. It's late. You're pretty sure Roxie already left for work and your mom will probably be settling down. "Right, uh..." 

"Just want something to think of when I walk the floor," he purrs. 

"Sure, er," you nearly choke, "I'll just-- one sec." 

"I can wait, doll. I've been waiting, haven't I?" He purrs. 

You feel a pang of guilt. You place the phone down so the lens faces the ceiling and climb off the bed. He's given you a lot, too much honestly, and now you feel like you owe him. It isn't fair to take his kindness without anything in return. And he isn't asking much, is he? 

You dig in the bag, the crinkle loud as the only other noise is the subtle movement from his end. You fish out the soft pajamas and peer over, making certain the phone is still flat. You change far away from it, paranoid. 

You look down at yourself in the tank and shorts. Oh gosh. It's a lot less than you usually wear. Your legs are showing, your shoulders, and a bit of your tummy. 

"Doll?" He says and you flinch. 

"I don't know... I don't think it fits." 

"I'm sure it fits just nice," he insists, "show me." 

"Oh, uh..." 

"I'm just looking, doll, I'll only think of what I really wanna do," he snickers. 

You cross back to the bed and pick up the phone, careful to stay out of view. You turn back and prop it up on the dresser, overly aware of the unflattering angle as you do. You give a wide-eyed look and back up so you're all in frame.  

You hug yourself shyly and sway. 

"Let me see ya," he orders. 

You put your arms straight and notice how he leans in to look at the screen, smoothing his hair back. He keeps his hands over his dark strands and growls. A flutter starts in your stomach. 

"What do you mean too small? That fits your perfect," he says. 

"I... really?" 

"Sure, doll," he turns and you realise he's getting ready.  

He combs his hair stands straight. He grabs a new shirt and buttons it as he peeks again. You near the camera and move it so he can only see your face.  

"Damn, doll, I'm gonna be all over the place," he says, "you're so sweet and sexy." 

"Bucky," you squeak.  

"I don't lie. That's the one thing you should know about me. I will always let you know exactly what I want." 

You blush hotly and a tap on the door nearly makes you drop the phone. You hide it behind you and shuffle closer. You clear your throat. 

"Uh, yeah?" You call through. 

"Hey, honey, everything okay in there?" She asks. Shoot, she must have heard you. 

"I'm watching something," your heart hammers, "sorry, I'll turn it down."

"It's alright, honey. Just thought I heard you..."

"No, just a show," you wisp out.

You quickly back away and go as far from the door as you can. You look down at the phone as Bucky tucks in his shirt. Ugh, that was embarrassing. He heard all that; surely he must realise how lame you are. 

"Mom sounds real sweet," he says, "must be where you get it." 

"She's working tomorrow. Don't wanna keep her up," you explain quietly. 

"That's too bad, doll. I'll just have to keep waiting... wanting," he shrugs and pulls on a dark jacket, "what do ya think? Look good?" 

He poses for the camera. He looks great, as always. You feel smaller than ever. 

"Yes," you answer softly. 

"Yes? That's it?" He sounds disappointed. 

"Very handsome," you eke out. 

"Handsome?" He squints as he picks up the phone. 

"Er," you search your repertoire and borrow from his, "sexy?" 

"Are you asking or telling me?" He chuckles. 

You giggle. You don't think you've ever told anyone they are sexy. You've never been that bold. 

"Yes." 

"Yes?" He laughs. 

"You're, er, oh, sexy," you touch your hot cheek and look away. 

"You are adorable, doll," he growls, "that's exactly what I need to hear." He grazes his fingertips over his beard, "unfortunately I gotta get on it so... tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow," you confirm. 

"Don't worry about a thing, doll, just bring your gorgeous self." 

🃏

The next day is restless. It's worse having hours to wait around for... what? You don't know. 

You spend your time reading, or trying to. Breakfast is small, what your roiling stomach can handle, and you put on an outfit that you think is acceptable, not that you have much to choose from. It might be strange if your mom or Roxie notice the lack of uniform. You could say you change at work? 

Ugh, lie after lie. It's all so much.  

You don't get very far in the book and your phone buzzes, a reminder from Bucky that your fate is coming. You grab your purse and sit out on the stoop, the sunlight beaming down. It would be a nice say if you were so damn uptight. 

Merv pulls up in the sleek luxury car and you get up, checking over your shoulder to see if there's any curious tug on the curtain. Your mom's already at work but Roxie is puttering around somewhere. She could be sleeping or not. 

Merv gets out to greet you. He opens the door and you thank him. He sits in the driver's seat and Springsteen drones from the radio. You smile as he shifts into gear. 

"I know this one," you say. 

"Of course, a classic," he praises. "And how are you today, miss?" 

"Good, you, sir?" 

He laughs as he steers, "very good, miss. And how could I not be." He peeks at you in the rear view, "with sunshine in my backseat." 

You smile bashfully and cross your legs. You can't help the shake in your foot. You're more and more nervous with each second and turn of the wheel. 

As if noticing your unease, he turns up the music, "I like this one too." 

You sigh and ease into the drumbeat. The tempo keeps your heartbeat in check. You're thankful for his subtle comfort. 

You turn to watch through the tinted windows. You never noticed how scenic this city is. You never went many places to have the chance. 

He keeps the volume up and you let it carry you through the long journey across the city. He pulls up to the casino and steers around to the hotel entrance. You peer through then back at him in confusion. He turns the knob down. 

"Mr. Barnes says to give your name at the desk," Merv instructs, "have a good day." 

"Thanks, you too," you unbuckle the seat belt and sidle across to the door. 

You get out with reticence. Staring up at the grand facade, you're more unsure than you've ever been. You've come this far, you have to keep going. You really have no choice as Merv slowly rolls away.  

You step forward. It doesn't get easier the further you get. Your pulse hammers behind your ear as you enter the lobby and a flash of deja vu overcomes you. That night with Roxie, the morning after, and everything since. How does it all feel as if it happened so fast and yet so long ago? 

You go to the desk, feeling entirely out of place. What if Merv is wrong and you shouldn't be there? What if they just look at you and laugh? No choice, keep going. 

You stop on the other side of the desk and give a stiff smile. 

"Hello, welcome, checking in?" The modelesque concierge asks. She's stunning and you're all the more self-aware. 

"Uh, I think? My name is..." 

She keeps her pristine smile in place and her eyes lights up. She doesn't even bother typing into her computer. She flits away and returns with one of little folders with the room keys inside. Oh, this is really happening. 

You thank her and slowly back away. You make a slow advance towards the elevator and wait beside a couple with their suitcases. You step on with them, avoiding a glimpse through the transparent walls.  

You unfold the folio and read the number, pushing the floor number, then stand back on your heels. You keep your eyes on the door, the motion alone making you dizzy. 

The couple gets off before you. When it's your floor, you thankfully scramble off and take a deep breath. You once more check the number and follow the hallways to your assigned suite. 

You swipe the card several times, you still don't have the hang of it. The door opens and you enter meekly. You focus on every move. Shut the door, slip the card back in the folder, put it down on the corner table. 

You look up at last and let yourself marvel at the suite as you delve further in. The smell of pollen greets you with a large bouquet of roses. The suite is huge, even bigger than last time. Two rooms just the same and a full kitchenette and spacious bathroom. You don't go onto the balcony, not wanting to test your stomach. 

You go back inside and glance over the table draped in a red tablecloth beneath the crystal vase of flowers. There's also a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries and various colours of macarons. You've never had the delicate cookies before but you'd watch countless recipe videos, wishing on day to try them yourself. 

There's an envelope too. You take it and run your nail along the sealed flap. You open it carefully and slip out the card within. 

'Enjoy yourself, doll. I'll join you shortly. B.' 

As if on cue, there's a knock on the door. Oh gosh, you're not ready. What does he mean? Join you? You hoped for a little long before... before... 

You stand frozen but when the door doesn't open itself, you go to answer it. You slowly twist the long handle and open it just a crack. You peer around the edge and blink in confusion. 

"Hello, dahling," the woman's affectation drags out her syllables, "well look at you, how precious." 

She presses on the door and you let her force her way in. You're dumbfounded. Who the heck is she? Another long-legged beauty you can't compare too. 

"Lovely hair," she remarks as she closes the door without a care, "oh, and your skin, yes, perfect canvas..." 

"Sorry, er, I think you have the wrong room--" 

"Mr. Barnes sent me, dahling," she trills in her way, "and I see you are very much in need of my visit so let's begin. Mm, yes, I have a vision," she struts forward, a rose gold chest in her hand, "not very much, you have a natural lustre I adore." 

You retreat as she advances on you. She lifts her chest onto the chaise and flips back the lid, revealing an assortment of precisely organized palettes and tubes. You're horrified and humiliated as you realise why she's there. Maybe you aren't as pretty as Bucky keeps telling you. 

[bluebeary-jay]

Hold me close and hold me fast

Hi, my darling @always-andromeda!! I'm your secret santa from the space sisters server 🥰 I hope you're having a fantastic day and will enjoy what I wrote for you 💕 I tried to mix fluff and angst into your Joel prompt and it was tricker than I thought it'd be but hopefully I did it justice 😌 I wish you all that's best and happy holidays!!

Summary: It's been a long time since Joel was in any relationship and because of that he has absolutely no clue how to react to your affections. It culminates into an angsty conversation which he wanted to avoid at all costs.

Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, fluff and angst, soft and shy Joel, hurt/comfort, established relationship 💕

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: dividers by @saradika, beta read by @reddedmiller ❤️

Twenty years ago, when the apocalypse started and Joel Miller lost his only daughter, he was certain that he’d never feel happy again. Time didn’t heal his wounds – he still thought like that when he was fighting for survival with Tommy, then when he was doing side jobs with Tess in the QZ… It was never going to get better.

But somehow, as he looked up at the massive tree he just helped the others set up in the middle of the square in Jackson, he realized that it could. It did. Now Joel had a home here. He had his brother back, he had Ellie whom he cared for like his own kid and he had a community that welcomed him into Jackson, people who didn’t know about the horrible things he’d done and therefore didn’t hate him.

“Hi, handsome,” he heard from behind his back and turned around to the most beautiful face in the world – the main source of his newfound happiness. You. His girl. “Are you done with work?”

He nodded with a small smile gracing his lips. You were the newest addition to Joel’s life, but the most precious one in his eyes. Unlike everyone else in Jackson (excluding his brother), you knew all about the sins he’s committed. And yet, you still chose him. Every day you continued to choose him, to envelop him with the warmth of your love which Joel wasn’t sure he deserved.

He’d never tell you, though. Not as long as you kept him in your heart.

“Yeah, no, we’re done. M’pretty sure my back will blow if I have to pick up or carry one more damn thing.”

Right at that moment Tommy walked by with another box full of tree ornaments in his arms, and huffed a laugh when he heard his brother complaining.

“Jesus, Joel, you really are gettin’ old.” He put down the heavy box on the snow and sighed, propping his hands on his hips and nodding at you. “You sure you’ll be able to put up with this grump?”

“Positive.” You climbed onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to Joel’s cheek, and he felt his skin growing hot under your lips. He turned his head to hide the embarrassment evident on his face, missing the slight furrow of your brows, but not missing a hearty laugh his brother let out.

“Aww, is the big, scary man gettin’ all shy from a little kiss on the cheek?”

“Get lost, Tommy.”

Tommy chuckled and bent down to pick up the box again. “By the way, you two have any plans for today? We’re makin’ a screening of some Christmas movies for the kids, and after that the adults will head to the bar. You should come.”

“Well, if you want to?” you directed the careful question to Joel, but he shook his head just slightly, causing you to smile. “But we actually have other plans for tonight.”

That was true, and there was no way Joel would trade those precious hours spent in your company for having to sit – or worse, dance – in a loud room full of half-drunk people.

“Sounds like somethin’ I don’t wanna know about.”

“We’re just gonna bake some cookies for Ellie,” Joel murmured when you bumped his arm lightly with a giggle. The irritation at his brother lessened slightly when he heard the sound of your laughter. “But don’t tell ‘er.”

“My lips are sealed.” Tommy winked at Joel, then shifted his eyes to you. “Enjoy your evening, lovebirds.”

“That’s the plan.” You took Joel’s hand in both of yours, beaming up at him with excitement. “You’re ready?”

“Yeah.” He inconspicuously let go of your hands to brush the arm of your jacket lightly, and then nodded in the direction of his house. “C’mon, darlin’.”

He hoped he wasn’t coming off as too harsh as he hid his gloved hands in the pockets, intending to blame it on the cold in case you asked. But instead of saying anything, you just matched his step and slipped your hands around his arm. Joel went rigid when you leaned your head on his shoulder, the side of your body almost hugging his.

Joel loved you like no one before and until he met you, he hadn’t been this happy in years. But there was a problem, a major one, in your relationship that he didn’t at all know how to address.

Because Joel didn’t have any clue how to react to all your touches.

No matter if they were tender or needy, brief or lasting, he always felt out of his depth. It’s been so long since he actually wanted to be intimate with someone that when the chance arose… he was at loss. You were such an affectionate person and he loved that part of you, he cherished all touches and gestures you graced him with – craved them even – but…

He stole a glance at you, wondering if you could feel the stiffness of his body when you were so close, but it seemed that you were none the wiser. He tried to will his muscles to relax, but it didn’t work and he still felt an uncomfortable feeling crawling up his arm.

The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do as your partner, but ever since Sarah died, he hadn’t had an opportunity to show affection to someone. Everything he thought about seemed awkward and incongruous, but he really didn’t want you to think that he was an inexperienced old man who didn’t know how to please – and in your case, love – a woman.

He did. In theory.

So he tried his hardest to show you in other ways how much he cares about you. He brought you gifts, whether they were knickknacks scavenged during his patrols or wooden figurines he made for you. He did what he could to relieve you of your duties, helped around the house and out in the town. He found time during the day to spend with you or at least just talk in passing if you both were busy.

But that still wasn’t enough. He knew that wasn’t enough.

Every damn time you cuddled, every time you kissed him or did something as simple as lay your head on his shoulder, Joel never felt better. He never wanted those moments to end, but at the same time he just couldn’t reciprocate, and it was tearing him apart, because he could see how hurtful it was to you.

“You’re quiet.”

Joel snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at you, noting that you’re almost at his place. He breathed a little lighter when he realized that he managed to go all this way without the need of pulling his arm out of your grasp.

“Is everything alright?” you asked with concern in your beautiful eyes and squeezed his bicep slightly, causing Joel to clench his teeth. “Listen, if you’d prefer to go with Tommy, just tell me…”

“Hey, I’m okay, sweetheart,” he assured you quickly and even managed to smile as if the guilt of not being able to even kiss your forehead wasn’t eating him alive. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with right now.”

“Just right now?” you asked teasingly, and Joel couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

“Listen here, you little tease…”

A bright smile returned to your face and you tugged his arm down so your lips could reach his stubbly cheek – and (only a little) reluctantly, he let you kiss him with a huff.

But the guilt of not telling you the true reason of his worries was still swirling in his stomach, making him feel sick for the rest of the way.

An hour and a half later the cookies were already done, and somehow the attempt to clean each other off the flour and the colorful frosting you used to decorate them ended up with you sitting in Joel’s lap, kissing him softly.

Not that he minded.

There was nothing as wonderful as the feeling of your lips on his skin, Joel was sure of it. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since he was with someone that made him feel like a young boy in love again, but your every gesture, every sound coming out of your mouth and every day he got to spend with you was just a confirmation of how lucky he was to have you.

Even now, as you were kissing him slowly and without any rush, he felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. But while they initially appeared from the happiness and giddiness you were causing in him, the longer your hands wandered – and the longer his stayed uselessly at his sides – the worse and more stressed he felt.

“You know you can touch me, right?” you asked playfully at last, and the pit in Joel’s stomach grew almost tenfold in size. “It’s highly encouraged, actually.”

There was an actual question in your voice, which made him feel even worse. He should’ve known you’d address it eventually – after all, nothing went past you – but it still felt so awfully embarrassing to admit it to you. He was an old man, but felt like an inexperienced teenager who didn’t know how to make a woman feel good.

You moved to kiss him again when he didn’t answer, too lost in his own thoughts, but on instinct Joel pulled back – actually ducked – out of your reach. Immediately regret painted his face at the rejected look in your eyes, and he started to rake his mind in search for something he could do to fix it, but nothing came to him. He knew what you’d want from him – you’d forgive him if he took your face in his hands, kissed you with all his strength, let you know that you did nothing wrong… but it made him nervous just thinking about it, let alone do it.

“Sorry,” he quickly muttered. “I didn’t– didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”

“Hey, look at me… What’s wrong?” You brushed some hair out of his forehead and Joel exhaled shakily, feeling weak in the knees at your touch. “Talk to me, baby. Did I do something?” Joel shook his head and you pressed your lips together. “Did something happen, then?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly, but he avoided your eyes. “No. Nothin’.”

“Joel…”

The room got too stuffy all of the sudden, the shirt on his back too tight and your body too heavy on his lap. Joel knew he was panicking over nothing, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want you to see him like this, so unsure and embarrassed over his own insecurity and behavior… So he gently removed you from his lap and stood up from the couch.

“Sorry, I gotta… I need some air. I’ll be right back, alrigh’?”

“Joel.”

No ‘baby’. No ‘handsome’. The tone of your voice made him stop dead in his tracks, and he turned around to meet your sad, solemn eyes.

“Just tell me if you don’t want me anymore.”

Your voice, so small and weak, took him off-guard and for a couple of seconds Joel wasn’t sure if you really said that, or if it was just his imagination playing cruel tricks on him. He blinked several times, but you were still in front of him, sad and… oh, god, you were on the verge of tears.

“What?” He couldn’t help a curt, disbelieving chuckle that escaped him – which was a terrible reaction, he realized when you turned your head away from him. “I– I don’t understand.”

“You don’t ever want to touch me first.” You let out a shuddering breath and lifted your arm to wipe your eyes, and Joel realized with mortification that he fucking made you cry. “And when you do it’s only when I initiate it, but sometimes you just pull back and it… it makes me feel so unwanted. And I know I might come off as too clingy…”

“Hey, none of that.” Joel quickly made his way to you and sat back down, gazing at you with his brows furrowed in worry. Your face was tearstained already and you avoided looking at him, but didn’t pull back when he took your hand gently in his. “Darlin’...”

“Just tell me if it doesn’t work for you,” you breathed, your voice thick with tears which also welled up in your pretty eyes again. “I hate not knowing if I… if our relationship makes you happy.”

“Of course I’m happy, babygirl.” Joel lifted your hand as if to kiss it, but hesitated. He had half a mind to draw back, but you needed him now, and he needed to prove that he really loved you. So, tentatively, he pressed his inexperienced lips to your fingers, making you look up with suspicion dancing in your irises. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever felt.”

“You’re pretending.” The quiet accusation combined with you withdrawing your hand caused Joel’s heart to break and he opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him a chance to. “I don’t want you to pretend now that I’m upset, I want– Joel, I need you to be honest and tell me if it isn’t working for you. You always move away when I try to hug you and during all this time we’ve been together I can count on one hand the number of times you kissed me first. I don’t…” you choked down a sob and a new wave of tears flew down your cheeks. “I don’t want to waste either of our time if that isn’t what you want. If I’m not what you want–”

“Sweetheart, you’re the only one I want,” Joel whispered with pain in his voice, moving so he could sit closer to you. “M’so very sorry that I wasn’t…” He searched for the right words, but everything felt flat on his tongue. “I’m sorry. For everythin’ I did that made you feel this way.”

“But why?” you asked pathetically, staring at him with defeat and sadness. “You never said anything and I wouldn’t try to touch you so much if you just told me you didn’t like it!”

“I do like it,” he cut you off with a firm tone, which caused you to stop abruptly. “I fuckin’– I love it when you touch me, darlin’. I’m dyin’ for you to keep doin’ it, but I…”

“You what?” you asked, softer this time, and Joel swallowed hard, nervous how you’ll react. But you had the right to know, so ultimately he pushed through his discomfort.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he finally settled on that. “I really, really love when you touch me, babygirl, no matter in what way.” He took another deep breath, bowing his head to look at his hands so that he didn’t have to face you. “But it’s been so long, damn decades, since I… since anyone touched me in the way you do. I never loved someone the way I love you. I’m very sorry, I just don’t know what I’m s’pposed to do… when someone…”

He trailed off, worried that he might break down and cry in front of you if he says another word, and he’d prefer to avoid it at all cost. The world outside was so harsh and cruel already, and you needed someone strong – a safe haven, a pillar you could lean on. He was that someone for everyone around him for the last twenty years, and even longer before the outbreak.

But it was so much different now. You made him feel safe and loved no matter what he could provide to you and it was almost scary how vulnerable he was becoming in your presence.

“...when someone cares for you?” you asked quietly. Joel nodded, and tears gathered in your eyes again, though now for a very different reason. “Oh, Joel…”

“M’sorry,” he whispered, his own vision also going misty. “I want to give you everythin’ you desire, darlin’. If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll try to…” He shook his head, defeated. “I don’t know. I’ll try to get past it.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” You scooted just a little closer and put your hand on his knee lightly. He looked up with anguish swimming in his brown eyes, not believing that you were still here and not already out of the door. You worried your lip between your teeth for a couple of seconds before inhaling deeply. “How about… I show you what to do? We can go as slow as you want.”

Joel slowly shook his head, not understanding. “...show me what?”

“You said you don’t really know what to do, right? So how about I show you exactly how… you know.” You smiled almost shyly, but it only caused Joel’s heart to beat even faster. “Where to put your hands.”

Joel was nodding before you even finished speaking.

It was embarrassing, really, how excited he got at this idea, but just the thought of your hands guiding his, demonstrating where and how to touch you, had him feeling weak in the knees and hot under his clothes. You smiled, almost with relief, and moved even closer until your thighs were touching.

“Here, just relax. We can stop at any time, just say a word,” you said soothingly, placing his palms on your hips and sending him a small smile. Joel wondered if you could see how red his face surely was, feel how sweaty his palms got. “Is this okay?”

“S’better than okay,” he breathed in something akin to wonder. “It’s easier… Everythin’ seems easier with you.” His chest was tight when he looked up at you. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t a lie. You did make it seem effortless, and though Joel could still feel the rigidness of his muscles and tendons, the tension was slowly melting away, replaced by a tingling warmth on his skin.

You gave him a reassuring smile and his eyes flickered to your lips almost involuntary. You noticed it, of course – Joel didn’t think he was exactly subtle with his staring – and cupped his jaw in your hands. His arm, practically instinctively, encircled your waist and pulled you closer before he could stop himself, but you didn’t berate him – in fact, you seemed delighted by his action.

“Now, are you going to kiss me or not?” you whispered coyly, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of your thumbs. Joel chuckled at your attempt to put him more at ease, but it worked and he leaned in to press – very, very carefully – his lips to yours. He felt you smiling against them and his eyes filled with tears from the overwhelming relief.

“I love you so much,” he murmured with his mouth only millimeters from yours. “So much, babygirl.”

You hummed a quiet love you, too, and moved your lips up to softly kiss his eyelids, then temple, then cheeks and nose. Joel almost wanted to cry when you started running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. It felt so good, your touch so nice and tender… He couldn’t remember when was the last time someone treated him with such care. Maybe never. “Next time it becomes too much, you tell me, got it? And I promise I’ll make you feel better.”

Your touch didn’t bother him now that he admitted what was weighing heavily on his chest for so long. Now, it felt soothing. Grounding.

So, so loving.

Joel held you closer, melting into your embrace, and claimed your lips in a soft – if not a bit shy – kiss.

There was nothing else he’d rather be doing tonight.

[pennyserenade]

devil in his heart | jackson rippner x reader

summary | after finding out your long-time boyfriend's real occupation, you have to grapple with who he really is. rating | (explicit) tags/warnings | 18+, dark, dubcon (bordering on noncon), smut, explicit smut, fingering, degradation, violence word count | 1.9k+ a/n | i honest to god don't know what possessed me, but we are all grown ups here. read with caution! enjoy! love ya! also: i wrote this to devil in his heart by the donays and he's got the power by the exciters, if you're interested in a soundtrack. not beta'd

Truth be told, this is the best game of cat and mouse he's had in years, and he doesn't like that it's ending so soon.

As he gets on your level, crouching near your slumped form, Jackson almost feels a little sorry that you couldn't win. It's not that you weren't witty enough--you were. It's just that, well, he's better. This reminds him of when he was ten and had wanted to go to space only to figure out when he was twelve that he was too scared of the vastness of the galaxy. Some things are just out of reach, too good to be true. He mourns it all the same.

His fingers tenderly push back sweat soaked strands of hair from your face. You look up at him, blurry-eyed, but still so resolute--lips thinned, smoldering with anger. God. He swipes a finger across your lip just to know what it feels like, and likes it better for the fact that you jerk away so aggressively that you knock your head back into the wall.

His tongue clicks. "You should've known, after following me all those weeks, that I'm good at this."

Jackson wraps his fingers tightly around your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. You give in, mostly because you have so little energy to protest. His eyes look ominously glacial, lit up only by the moonlight cascading in from the window.

You look down at his lips; the flesh there is still swollen, broken from the harsh swing of your elbow earlier in the night. His tongue spears out to feel at the area. "You're a sloppy assassin, baby. My blood's all over this goddamn place. All over you--" he gestures down to your simple white tee shirt, which has been made dirty with dirt, sweat, blood. You don't care. You feel dizzy and half-scared to pass out, to even think of it, because you've never seen him look quite like this.

You think back to that first time you met him, how he had seemed so polite. He was traveling by train to visit his folks back home for Christmas (he said things like 'folks' in a crisp Midwestern accent, for God's sake). He had said he worked in life insurance policy, which made you laugh and caused him to say, "I know, I know--ironic, Jack Rippner dealing out life insurance." You had thought it was ironic. It is: ironically cruel.

He buys his ties from GAP, his dress shirts from Macy's, likes EggNog and celebrates the fourth of July with as much enthusiasm as any plain, good-hearted American man can.

He’s met your mother; he loves her breadsticks.

You spit on him. It takes the very last of your strength, but it's worth it to see the way his eyes ignite. His hand wipes it off, thumb running through the saliva on his fingers as his lips purse. "You know," he begins, voice eerily calm, "I always thought we'd make good parents. God knows we've come close to it enough times. You just can't help but beg for my cum in you, the slut you are." He chuckles darkly. "I always imagined that you'd be the good cop and I'd be the bad one."

Jackson pushes your head back into the wall, propping you there, almost choking you, but not quite. You let out a deep, wavering breath. He smirks. "But I see that's not the case now, is it? You don't seem to like very much when I play with my food before I eat it, do you?" His fingers press against your lips again, saliva coated. You let him. "Here I thought, all along, 'my baby's a goddamn pacifist. She didn't even like fishing!' It kept me up at night, the idea of you finding out what I did. But look at you!" His thumb tenderly strokes your neck, moving around a mysterious fluid--could be your blood, his blood, spit, water, anything. "I think if I reached between your legs now, you'd be soaked."

You choke out a sound of protest, wiggling beneath his gasp. He tuts, his fingers digging more tightly into your throat. For a brief moment, you can’t breathe. You find enough strength to claw at his hand, to widen your eyes and plead.

“C’mon, you’ll like this. You always do.” He loosens his grip on your neck.

As you gasp for air, Jackson knocks your legs apart. It doesn’t take much effort to get your cunt—you’d foolishly made the mistake of wearing a dress today—and he hums in delight when his fingers reach past your cotton underwear, confirming what he suspected to be true. His lips form into a mocking pout as your eyes begin to well with tears. It's not fear—you’re beyond that. It’s anger. The betrayal of this curdles inside you, eating you alive. Your eyes fill with ire.

“Don’t be that way,” he shakes his head, softening a degree. He holds your chin between his fingers again, the other hand rubbing wide circles over your clit. “I’m not going to kill you. How could I? I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you, truth be told, but it’s not that.”

Your hips jerk involuntarily, causing him to growl. “That’s the spirit, kitten. When you hit me earlier, I thought—after, of course, 'God she’s a bitch!’—that you might be a good asset. I know you’ve got a lot of morals holding you back right now, so I figure I’ll let you do the easy work at first. Let you think you’re doing some good in the world.” He presses down on your clit, his touch more intent, more focused. You squirm, hating the way he knows that you like it like this.

His fingers slip down into your cunt, wetting them. “Fuck, you’re soaking. If this is how you get when we do this, you might just reform me. I’m not opposed. We—“ he reattaches his fingers to your cunt. You whine, arching into his touch.“—could do good work. I freelance, if you couldn’t tell already. Though I’m sure you can. You’re a thorough investigator when you want to be. That’ll be helpful, too.”

Jackson picks up his pace, swallowing as he stares down at your lap. He can’t see anything, his hand hidden beneath the fabric of the dress and your underwear, but it seems to thrill him all the same. You too, admittedly.

“I—I couldn’t,” you retort, biting at your lip. “You—you kill!”

“Don’t be such a prude,” he deadpans. “It’s political assassinations and occasionally, though very rarely, an innocent bystander. And I do my best to make sure those cases are few and far between. I do.” He presses down more intently, watching with delight as you squirm, trying not to cum. “Oh, go on. It’s just you and me here. No one’s gonna know except me, and I won’t tell anyone. I’m good with secrets. You know that now.”

He’s near exultant, talking to you about this. The pitch of his voice is higher, and he’s looking at you like he’s won a prize of the highest degree. You’d spit on him again if he wasn’t making you feel so goddamn good.

“I won’t do it,” you shake your head firmly. Jackson takes the opportunity to slip a finger in your cunt, to press in and show you how much he has always—will always—know you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll bite,” he soothes, entering another. It’s a squeeze, but a welcome one, especially when he begins to thrust them against the spongy surface of your walls. Your toes curl, and you hate him, hate him violently. “If you want me to be rough, you really only have to ask, but since you like this game so much we’ll play it.”

As he fingers you, he begins to palm your clit. The sensation is overwhelming. Tears cascade down your face and he leans forward, licking them from your lips. The warmth of the orgasm rises in you alarmingly quick, his fingers deftly touching the inside of you, his palm lining with your clit each time you rut involuntarily. Your body knows him. It trusts him. He knows it.

The orgasm licks through you like a goddamn flame, igniting everything and leaving it all worse for it. When you cry out, Jackson smirks, so fucking pleased. But he doesn’t stop. He goes on, rubbing down harder, thrusting in quicker, until you’re wiggling beneath him.

“Please!” you say, trying to move his hand away.

He’s resolute. “No can do, honey. You’ve been a naughty girl, indulgent in the worst way. Gluttony is a sin, and I've been good–I’ve never punished you for it before–but you’ve hurt my feelings now.”

He slides in a third finger, his crystal eyes dark in the shadows. You feel impossibly full, and on the brink of another orgasm. You whine out. He knocks your head back into the wall with force. It doesn’t take your breath away, but it stuns you to silence. “That’ll be enough of that. This is for me now, got it? Getting you all wet so my cock will fit in that tight cunt of yours. Want you to hear it, your pussy taking me.”

As if to prove a point, he thrusts in again, and you do hear it—the way your body allows him in. An obscene squelch. You bite your lip, feel more tears fall down your cheeks.

“Jackson—“ you plead. You’re tired, achy, terribly confused. He works you open so well. You can smell the sour sweet smell of his body odor. You love it. You cannot help it. Your body trusted this man for so long. Still does.

You fool, you tell yourself, before your body gives way to his will again—you collapse into him, screaming out a silent whimper as the orgasm makes you convulse.

“That’s it,” he encourages, not stopping. “Be good for me. If you’re good, we’ll make this enterprise into a family business. If you’re bad—well, we’ll just have to make this our life, won’t we? You all weak, me with all the power. I don’t think you’ll like it, but you understand, it’s how it must be done if you don’t obey.”

He sighs, as if it’s putting him out too.

You know he’s serious. What’s worse is you know he’s right: that you won’t like it, that he’ll get his way eventually.

When you give in, he knows immediately, lips quirking up into a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your temple. “I always knew you had it in you a little. You were always such a whore for me. I’m happy it worked out so well for us both. Now–” He pushes your legs further apart, moving in with his own hips. “Let’s play your most favorite game. It’s longer, requires more patience, but I like it just as much as you do.”

The jingle of his belt buckle makes a shot of fear, mixed with arousal, shoot up your spine. You think: God, no.

He laughs darkly. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve been making sure you’ve been taking your birth control. I’m not really ready for that, either. It’s just the idea that thrills you, isn’t it anyway? And that smallest, tiniest chance that it could happen.” He smirks, loosening his belt. His fingers exit you, leaving you empty, feeling scandalized and ruined. Jackson rubs them on the cloth of your dress, uncaring.

“I hate you,” you spit out, venom lacing your words.

He looks thoroughly amused as he releases his weeping cock from his underwear. “No you don’t. You’re just ashamed of yourself. But fear not–” he wipes a tear off your face, “--when we’re done here, you’ll be glad for this. Just remember, baby, that I’m on your side.”

[featguler]

Kylian!bf headcanon?

our hearts are free ────── i'm a flower, you're my bee.

♡ ────── pairing : kylian mbappé x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. ♡ ────── wordcount : 513 ♡ ────── notes : i have another ky headcanon post that you can read right here!!. this is pretty short :( sorry. title and desc is from father john misty's real love baby ♡ masterlist.

This man is expensive—literally, and well, figuratively. He lives beyond comfortable, and has everything on the tips of his fingertips, including: you!

He does not like seeing you work! He will be the first to admit it! Call it his ego or whatever, but he feels as though you don’t gotta do it, you know? He doesn’t mind seeing you work, but Kylian has got probably enough money to propel you into early retirement—and he would do so happily.

Sometimes he sees you working after a long day, eyes heavy and shoulders slump, and his gentle voice, coaxing you to strip bare of your profession, would always begin.

He genuinely stresses seeing you so stressed out! You’re his baby, and he has to take care of you! But he won’t really force it upon you—while he doesn’t see the rationale behind you having to work when you have him, he understands the mindset of having to stand alone.

And he understands you. (As long as you understand that he is there for you too ♡ )

Kylian wants to get married. There are footballers who prefer not marrying— hell, there are people who prefer not marrying. But him? Nah.

He simply does not believe in not locking it down; he lets you know early into the relationship about his end goal. The matter of kids or no-kids is something that can be discussed and negotiated, but he wants to be your husband.

Boyfriend is cute the first two years, and fiance even better for the next. But he wants to call you his, in every sense possible—literally, lovingly, and legally.

And another reason why he wants that ring on your finger… he’s possessive.

He’s territorial, he’s possessive, he gets jealous easily—what the fuck! Name it whatever the fuck you want! Kylian does not like seeing you with other people—with other men.

But he keeps his cool whenever jealousy begins to run through his veins. He doesn't make a scene, he does not flip a table outside down. What he does is pout. He trusts you enough to not actually get upset, but he still lets himself the luxury of being immature by wallowing in his self-made misery.

“I’ll marry you.”

There you two are again, on the bed. He’s propped on top of you, arms clinging around your waist. You are scrolling on your phone, barely paying him any attention as your hand pats the back of his head up and down.

Kylian presses his nose to your neck.

“That sounds like a threat, Kylian.”

He scoffs hearing that. “It will be if he keeps touching you.”

You can’t even find it in yourself to be upset at how silly he is being, chuckling softly.

“He wasn’t touching me, baby.” 

“He was,” he whines quietly, still hiding away in the crook of your neck. “Once I get that ring on your fingers, he’ll know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you kiss the top of his head, before focusing back on your phone. “Make sure to get my size right, huh? We don’t want the ring not fitting.”

[kyleoreillylover]

Hii ! I love your works it's just so amazing!! Can I request a Dominik mysterio x reader and it's just fluff please?

Snuggles ➶ 🖤

Dominik Mysterio x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and the rest of the Judgment Day have 2 things to do: Annoy the Bloodline and conduct business with them. But Dominik wants to add a third thing on the list, snuggling with you and not letting you go.

A/N: Thank you for your kind words, I'm so glad you love my works!! I hope this is all the fluff you wanted and is up to your standards lol. Hope you all enjoy! Also if you want to be added to a tag list for any future works I write, let me know in the comments!!

Warnings: Arguing (but it's just Jimmy and Solo lol), Mentions of drinking, etc.

You laughed with the rest of Judgment Day as you walked down the dimly lit hallway, Dominik's arm draped casually over your shoulder as the four of you made your way towards the Bloodline's locker room.

"How mad you think they're gonna be when they come back?" You giggled, leaning into Dominik's touch as you stepped closer to the locker room door.

"Stupidly mad." Rhea grinned, eyes flickering to the sticker on the door reading 'Bloodline Only.' She chuckled, nudging Finn, making him bring the keycard out Paul Heyman so graciously gave you all.

"That's half the fun of it. Can't wait to see Jimmy's stupid face when he sees us." Finn cackled, unlocking the door with a soft click.

"And Solo's face too, how did you get Paul to keep his mouth shut?" Damien turned to you and Rhea as you walked in the room, giving Dominik a smile when he pushed you in front of him and let you pass him first.

"Let's just say me and Rhea are very convincing." You answered as you all took in the room. The wide TV playing highlights from earlier matches, plush amenities on the tables, a dressing room area with neatly organized suitcases and gear, and comfortable chairs scattered around.

"Damn, this is fancy." Dominik whistled, bringing you to the plush couch and settling down, pulling you into his lap. "Cozy too," he added, wrapping his arms around you.

Rhea plopped down on a chair, crossing her legs as Finn and Damien looked around. "Jesus, he really is obsessed with himself." She commented, eyes on the pictures of Roman lining the walls.

You giggled at her words, nestling your head in Dominiks shoulder, your legs around his waist. "I think he has some sort of ego kink."

Dominik and Rhea laughed with you, Dominiks hands scratching gently down on your back as Finn let out a low whistle, walking over to the table and inspecting the snacks laid out.

"Look at all this! We've got to come here more often." Finn tossed a bag of chips to Damien, making him catch it with a smile. "Anyone up for some snacks while we wait?"

"Now you're speaking my language, man." Damien chuckled, catching the bag of chips and settling down on the couch next to you and Dom.

"So, how long do you reckon until they're done?" Rhea asked, leaning back in her chair, her boots propped up on a nearby table.

Finn sat down, eating his chips and shrugging. "You know Jimmy likes to gloat, and Solo is not far behind, so probably a while." Finn replied between bites. "But Paul said he wouldn't keep us waiting long."

You picked your head up from Dominik's shoulder, trying to keep a laugh from bubbling out when he tried to bring your head back turning to Finn.

"So, we've got some time to kill, huh?" You grinned, glancing around the room. You eyed the TV, the snacks, and then Dominik. "Wanna watch some Netflix while we wait for those goons?"

Dominik chuckled, his arms still securely around you. "Sounds good to me. What do you feel like watching?"

Rhea smiled mischievously at you, grabbing the TV Remote. "Wanna watch some horror then while we wait?"

Damien smirked, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "I'm game." Finn nodded, grabbing another bag of chips. "Horror it is."

You cuddled further into Dominik's arms, and he wrapped his arms tighter around you, smiling down at you.

"If you get scared, I'll protect you," he teased, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You rolled your eyes playfully, kissing his cheek in return. "Think it'll be the other way around." You joked as the movie played on the TV.

And the waiting game began.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷

After 30 minutes, Jimmy, Solo, and Paul were all heading to the locker room after their brawl with LA Knight and John Cena. Jimmy was fuming after being attacked, slamming the door open since he is in front of everyone.

"What the hell is this!?" Jimmy walks in to the sight of the 5 of you having matching smirks on your face as he yelled at you.

"What's wrong?" Solo walks in the room after hearing the yelling, peering inside to see you sprawled onto the couch, Finn and Damien sitting side by side as Dominik playing with a llama with his head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair, your legs in Rhea's lap.

"That's no way to treat a guest, Jimmy." You pouted, smiling innocently at him. Rhea mirrored your smile, raising an eyebrow at him.

"She's right, Jimmy. Thought you'd have better hospitality." Rhea remarked with faux disappointment.

"Ya'll are in the wrong locker room! Get the hell out!" Jimmy snarled, pointing angrily at the door.

"We're actually right where we belong, mate." Finn smirked, taking a casual bite of a chip. "Isn't that right?" Damien smirked and nodded. "You're completely right, Finn."

Dominik looked up from his lama , grinning at an angry Jimmy. "And this is a really nice place, we're definitely gonna come here more often, aren't we guys?"

Jimmy's face turned bright red with rage, and he crosses the room and stepped in front of you guys.

"What are you even doing here?" He questioned with a scowl. "Solo, get them out!"

"Oh, Paul didn't tell you?" You glanced at Paul, who had entered the room behind Jimmy. He looked sheepish, avoiding eye contact.

"Oops, our bad. Must've slipped his mind," you said with mock innocence, earning a chuckle from Finn.

"Solo, there will be no need for that." Paul stopped Solo, placing a calming hand on his shoulder.

"They're here as guests. I may have forgotten to mention it, but they're perfectly welcome."

"Exactly. Paul invited us here to conduct some business under Roman's orders" Rhea explained, her voice turning serious as she looked at Jimmy. "So, unless you want to mess with your dear Tribal Chief, I suggest you calm down and show us some respect."

Jimmy's jaw dropped in disbelief. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You've got to be kidding me..."

Solo, still seething with anger, glared at all of you. "This is ridiculous."

"Why didn't you tell us!" Jimmy turned his anger onto Paul, who gaped at him for a moment before clearing his throat. It was very entertaining.

"I must've slipped my mind, my apologies," Paul stammered, clearly trying to save face. You snickered alongside the rest of your friends at the sight.

"Looks like the Judgment Day will be staying a bit longer, then," Finn chimed in, looking far too pleased with the situation.

"Which means the rest of you need to leave. Rhea and I only need to speak to Paul, so the rest of you can go." You spoke up, still running your fingers through Dominik's hair, his head perking up at the sound of your voice.

"Exactly. So, why don't you show the gentleman out?" Rhea suggested, giving Jimmy and Solo a pointed look.

Jimmy immediately protested, shaking his head and glaring at you all. "Ain't no way we leaving. Ya'll need to get your asses outta my room!"

Damien stood up at his tone, crossing his arms over his chest and sizing Jimmy up. "Listen to the ladies. Leave, or we'll make you two leave."

Jimmy backed up when Damien took a step forward, knowing Damien could easily snap him in half.

Dominik smirked at the confrontation, lifting his head from your lap. "Yeah, Jimmy, we wouldn't want you to get hurt in your own locker room, now would we?" He teased, his playful tone only making Jimmy more furious.

Jimmy was about to explode with anger, but Paul grabbed his arm, holding him back.

"Jimmy, this is under Tribal Cheifs orders, very specific orders. And you know Roman doesn’t want his business being messed with. and you wouldn’t want to mess with that and make the chief mad and have to face the consequences, would you? Paul warned him in a serious tone, fearful of what would happen if he messed up Roman's plans.

Jimmy finally relented, rolling his eyes but he knew he couldn't go against the Tribal Chief's orders.

"Fine, but this ain't over," Jimmy grumbled, glaring one last time at all of you before storming out of the room, Solo following him with a huff.

“You guys okay to be okay alone with Paul?” Damien asked you and Rhea once they left, Dominik perking up at the question.

“You sure you don’t need us for backup, hermosa?” Dominik discarded the llama and picked his head up from your lap and sat up in concern, tightening his grip on you.

You smiled at Dominik, patting his cheek affectionately. "We'll be fine, Dom, Paul isn't going to bite us," you reassured him, rubbing his back soothingly.

Rhea gave him a smile, fist-bumping him. "Besides, it's just business talk. We'll catch up with you guys in a bit."

Dominik reluctantly nodded, still looking a bit concerned but trusting your judgment. "Alright, but you owe me snuggles.” He kissed your nose, making you giggle.

“I promise, I'll make it up to you," you replied with a wink, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

Dominik melted into your kiss and stood up, stretching before looking at the others. "Let leave the ladies to their business then."

The rest of Judgment Day followed Dominik's lead and made their way out of the locker room, leaving you and Rhea alone with Paul.

“Now that everyone is gone…” Rhea picked up on your tone, finishing the sentence you had started. She leaned forward, a serious expression on her face. “Let’s get down to business.” Paul sat down in front of you two, gulping at the looks on you and Rhea’s faces, your glares making him nervous.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Of course ladies, let’s discuss our deal.”

You and Rhea exchanged a knowing glance, then turned your attention back to Paul. “But first, you need to do something for us.” Rhea began, glare never leaving her face.

Paul swallowed hard, nodding. “Whatever you ladies need, just name it.”

You leaned forward, your eyes locked onto Paul's. “We need you to acknowledge us.”

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷

You and Rhea made your way out the room, smiling to each other as you spotted the boys waiting for you in the hallway.

Dominik immediately walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you, and planting a soft kiss on your lips. "How did it go in there?"

You grinned, placing a hand on his cheek. "Perfect. We got what we needed, trust me.”

Rhea dabbed up Finn and Damian. “We’ve got Paul right where we want him, and Jimmy and Solo will be at our beck and call at your tag team match on Monday.”

Dominik squeezed you a little tighter in his embrace. "That's my girl," he said with a proud smirk.

Finn grinned at Rhea’s words, giving you both a proud smile. “Nice work, ladies. Cody and Jey won’t know what hit them.”

Damien smirked confidently, looking at one half of tag team championships around his waist. “With Paul under our thumb and The Bloodline wrapped around our fingers, we're unstoppable."

You smiled, feeling the sense of accomplishment wash over you.

“Now we can party!”

Damien's eyes lit up at your words. "Hell yeah, let's celebrate!" He hollered, clapping you on the back.

Finn hollered with him, "Bet none of you can't drink more than me!"

Dominik scoffed, his arm around your waist. "You can barely drink more than me, Finn."

Damien chuckled at their words, "Says the lightweight. You guys aren't on my level."

"Newsflash, none of you idiots can't drink as much as me." Rhea butt in with a smirk, wrapping an arm around Finn's shoulder.

The three bickered while walking out of the arena, you and Dominik sharing a look as you trailed behind them.

"They are so gonna get drunk."

You chuckled, leaning into Dominik's side as you watched your friends argue about who could handle their alcohol better. "Wanna bet on who's gonna throw up first?"

"Definitely you." You gasped playfully, swatting his chest. "That is so not true!"

Dominik gave you a knowing look. ""I've seen you after a couple of drinks, mi amor. You start giggling like crazy, and then you get all lovey-dovey. And then 9 times out of 10 you get sick."

You rolled your eyes, pouting dramatically. "That is not going to happen!"

Dominik chuckled, his arm tightening around you. "I'll believe it when I see it, cariño."

You let out a mock huff, narrowing your eyes at him. "I'm gonna prove you wrong, I promise you that."

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷

You, in fact, did not prove him wrong.

You stumbled into your hotel room later that night, giggling uncontrollably, with Dominik supporting you as you leaned on him.

"See, I told you," Dominik teased, helping you sit down on the bed. "You can't handle your liquor, mi amor."

"No, I am handling it! I'm handling it reallllyy welllll." you protested, though your words were slurred. Maybe you shouldn't have challenged Rhea as to who could take the most shots. She always wins.

Dominik had an amused smile on his lips as he watched you attempt to take off your shoes, which you managed to do after a few attempts.

"Yeah, you're a definitely handling it reallyyyy welllll." he teased, kneeling down to help you with the other shoe. You pouted, looking at him with glassy eyes.

"You're mean, babe. I thought you were on my side."

He chuckled, finishing with your shoes and then standing up. "I am on your side, cariño. I'm just messing with you."

You gave him a playful scowl, then suddenly your mood shifted, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a sloppy, affectionate kiss. "I love you, Dom," you slurred.

Dominik couldn't help but laugh at your sudden shift in mood. He wrapped his arms around you and returned the kiss, his lips slow but sweet against your own in a gentle manner, not wanting to overwhelm you in your current state. "I love you too, mi amor," he whispered against your lips before planting another sweet kiss on them.

You melted into the kiss, feeling a warmth wash over you, and the dizziness from the alcohol seemed to fade away for a moment. Dominik's tenderness always had that effect on you, making you forget anything and everything but him and his touch.

He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "Feeling a bit better now, cariño?" Dominik asked, his voice soft and full of affection.

You nodded slowly, a content smile on your face. "Much better now," you replied, your voice still a bit slurred but your gaze clear and focused on Dominik's. "You always make me feel better, Dom."

Dominik's heart swelled with love at your words, and he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "And I always want to make you feel that way."

You smiled, your drunken state his words mean that much more to you. "You're the best, Dom," you whispered, pulling him into another sweet kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Dominik returned your kiss with the same tenderness, his heart overflowing with his love for you. But when you grabbed the back of his head to try and deepen it, he gently pulled back. "As much as I'd love to, cariño, you've had enough to drink for one night."

You pouted playfully, protesting, "But I want you, Dom." He chuckled, his eyes full of adoration.

"I want you too, mi amor, but I want you to remember it."

You sighed dramatically, falling back onto the bed with your arms outstretched." But I need you. Like really need you."

Dominik laughed at your dramatic self and crawled onto the bed next to you, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked down at you. "You'll have me, cariño, just not right now." He leaned down and planted a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. "You need some rest. We can have each other tomorrow."

You sighed contentedly after the sweet kiss, your eyes fluttering with a sense of warmth. "Fine, tomorrow," you mumbled, snuggling into Dominik's side, your hand finding his, fingers entwining and almost falling asleep on his chest.

"Baby, as much as I want to cuddle with you, you need to change first." Dominik gently reminded you, trying to stifle a chuckle at your intoxicated state.

"Don't wanna get up." You giggled, nuzzling your face into his chest. "Too comfy with you, Dom.Y ou smell so good."

Dominik couldn't help but laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I know, mi amor, but we can cuddle after you change. You'll still be comfy with me, I promise."

You didn't let him go, moving even closer to him. "Carry me, babe."

Dominik chuckled, finding your request absolutely adorable. He wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up gently and cradling you in his arms as he stood. "You're lucky you're so cute," he teased, making his way to the bathroom with you in his arms.

He helped you brush your teeth and get changed, and then carried you back to bed, wrapping you up in the cozy blankets. Dominik joined you, pulling you close, and you snuggled against his chest.

"You promised me snuggles, remember?" Dominik playfully reminded you, smiling as you nodded sleepily, your eyelids heavy as you nestled even closer to Dominik's warmth. "I didn't forget, Dom. You give the best snuggles."

You sighed contentedly, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "I love you." Dominik smiled, holding you close. "I love you too, mi amor. Sweet dreams."

"You promise I can have you tomorrow?" You asked, your eyes half-closed, your voice soft and dreamy.

"I promise," Dominik replied, kissing your forehead as his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back as you started to drift off to sleep. "You can have all of me tomorrow, every moment, cariño. Goodnight."

You smiled sleepily, feeling completely safe and loved in Dominik's arms. "Can't wait."

Dominik watched with a smile as you drifted off to sleep, holding you close and whispering sweet nothings until his eyes grew heavy.

He pulled you even closer before he succumbed to sleep, finally relaxed and content, getting all the snuggles he wanted.

[jolluxstrait]

MIX 1

Paring: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: fluff, reader has hair but no other physical descriptions, mutual pining?, can be read as whatever gender desired, no use of y/n

a/n: first fic iv written in several years, feels good to write again. Based off of a prompt, see below. enjoy!!

[They're stuck on a road trip, and she's singing her heart out, while he pretends to hate it, but when she falls asleep, he quietly turns her playlist back on]

—

When Charles Xavier called you and Logan into his office, you had no idea what would come of it. He proceeded to explain that there was a special mission for just the two of you; going up into southern Canada to scout a possible Brotherhood hideout. When Charles offered the Blackbird to you both to use for said mission, you lept at the idea. However, Logan was quick to dismiss it.

“Yeah, no, not happening. The last time I was in that death trap Scott damn near got us all killed.”

You shoot him an annoyed glare, despite knowing that he's right. Scott Summers is good at many things, but piloting that jet is not one of them.

“Yeah, but Scott won't be flying it so there's nothing to worry about!”

You chime in, sounding hopeful that this will somehow convince Logan. In all truth, you don't want to spend any more time with the brooding man than you absolutely have to. The trip in the Blackbird would take around five hours in total. Five hours is not ideal, but doable. 

“I don't care, I'm not getting back into that thing. I'll drive us.”

His voice is stern and serious as he speaks, his tone making it clear that he's not backing down. You let out a huff of annoyance at his stubborn attitude, internally grumbling to yourself over spending the next ten hours in Logan's old beat up truck.  It's not that you didn't like Logan, quite the opposite, actually. But you knew, deep down, that the two of you would never work out. He was too much of a loner to ever even consider letting someone get close enough to love him and you didn't think that you could handle the rejection from him anyway. So you buried your feelings away in the farthest corner of your mind and committed yourself to just being friends with the grumpy man.

—

The two of you have been on the road for the past three hours. It's been a long and painfully quiet trip so far, the only saving grace being the soft sounds of the radio, humming quiet country tunes that float around the cab of the truck. It's the reason you're still sane, honestly. You stare out the window, head resting in your hand as your elbow is propped up on the side of the door. The scenery has been nothing but tall trees and empty roads since crossing over the Canadian border. 

Logan taps his fingers gently against the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song that's currently playing. The sound is an ever present reminder of the silence between you two. To your surprise, Logan is the first to break the ice. 

“You're not fallin’ asleep over there, are ya?”

His voice is gruff as he speaks, a hint of curiosity in it. He continues to keep most of his attention on the road, only glancing over when you respond. 

“No, just watching the trees go by..”

Logan nods his head at your answer, knowing he would be doing the same thing if he wasn't driving. 

“You can change the station if ya want.”

You perk up at his offer. It's not that you didn't like country music, more that it wasn't your favorite. And honestly, after the last three hours, you were kind of tired of it. You take him up on his offer, shifting your gaze from the tree-filled scenery to the truck's radio, clicking through the stations, pausing on a few only to change it a couple minutes later. 

“There's nothing good on right now.. do you mind if we listen to a CD? I figured I'd bring some since you insisted on driving.” 

Despite your genuine question, your tone was a bit pointed, still slightly annoyed at him for wanting to drive instead of fly.

“Sure darlin, whatever ya want.”

Logan gives you a simple shrug, gesturing to the CD player. Even though he was acting very nonchalant about it, he was genuinely curious about what you liked to listen to. He was also hoping that the change in music would give him a much needed distraction to how focused he was on you in the passenger seat. Every rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, every subtle movement of your body as you shift to get comfortable, the way your scent lingers in the air like smog as it completely takes over the original smell of cigars and leather that usually permeates the cab. It was incredibly distracting and he found himself stealing glances at you every couple minutes. 

You rustle through your bag for a moment, soon pulling a small CD case from it, taking a few moments to flip through the thin plastic sleeves until finally settling on a plain gray CD with the words “MIX 1” written on the top in black ink. With a smile, you pop the CD into the truck's CD player. A couple seconds of silence falls over the inside of the cab before an upbeat punk rock song rings out through the speakers. Logan doesn't try to hide his surprise, looking at you with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow. 

“This really the type of music you like?” 

“Yeah, what's wrong with it?”

You glance over at Logan, narrowing your eyes at him. Of course he wouldn't be into the same music as you. All this time on this round, dirt filled planet and he never bothered to broaden his music taste, only sticking to what he knew, what was familiar.

“It's damn noisy is what's wrong with it.”

It's a simple and straightforward answer, exactly what you would expect out of him. He wrinkles his nose as the next song plays, another similar sounding tune from the same genre.

“Yeah well, you said I could listen to whatever I wanted, so you're stuck with it.”  

You roll your eyes at him as you start singing along to the second song. You run through the whole CD, getting more into the music with each passing song. Logan, despite keeping up his annoyed facade at your singing and choice of music, is absolutely enamored with you. He steals glances at you every so often, watching as you smile while you get lost in the music, his heart rate increasing at the sight. He takes in every moment of you like this, carefree and having fun, committing it to memory.

Logan knows he shouldn't feel this way about you. He shouldn't want to spend time with you as often as he does, shouldn't want to reach out and grab your hand or brush a stray strand of hair from your face, or find any excuse to touch you. Yet, the urge to do so is ever present. He knows that there's no way that you can feel the same way for him that he does about you. He's not sure if he could even bring himself to let you in, not wanting to taint you with the darkness and trauma he keeps bottled up inside. So he pretends to be indifferent towards you, to always keep you at an arm's length away for your own safety. He subtly shakes his head, pushing his meandering thoughts to the back of his mind as he forces himself to focus on the road. You let out a soft sigh as the CD pops halfway out of the player, signifying that it has reached the end. Logan doesn't move to push it back into the player, keeping his gaze on the road ahead of him. You take that as a sign that he's had enough. 

“Alright.” You say, settling back against the leather passenger seat. “It's your turn to pick the music.”

Logan glances down at the radio, reaching up without a word to click the button a few times as he searches through the stations. Finally, he settles back on the old country station. You let out a soft chuckle, not at all surprised that this is what he decided. After about thirty minutes of the quiet music, Logan sneaks himself a glance at you, raising his eyebrows when he sees you asleep in the seat next to him. A small smile tugs on the corners of his lips at the sight of your gentle breathing. He can't help but notice how calm and peaceful you look in this moment, a stark difference from earlier when you were singing your heart out to your music.

Without thinking, he reaches his hand over to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He pauses as his fingers are mere inches from the strand, hesitating for a moment before finally giving in and gently moving it out of the way of your face. His touch is featherlite, making sure not to disturb you in any way. Logan takes one more good look at you before turning his attention back to the road. As the radio station starts to fizzle out of range, he brings his hand up to change it, noticing your CD still sticking out of the player. With a soft push, he watches as the CD slides back into the slot, the same upbeat punk rock song playing moments later. He turns down the volume a bit so as not to wake you, tapping his fingers to the rhythm of each song on the steering wheel as he lets the CD play. It's still noisy, but knowing that you like it, and the images from you singing your heart out to it earlier are making Logan see the genre in a whole new light. 

[mayajadewrites]

could've been you: aizawa x fem!reader x hawks

summary: You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy. Nothing could go wrong... right? relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader warnings: some chapters will be NSFW, they will have a warning on them in bold. not many descriptions of reader, other than she's midsize.

ao3

TAG LIST:

@come-away-with-me87, @kxshdoll, @evilsanzu, @friendly-neighborhood-turtle, @lili-pond, @falling4fandoms

CHAPTER SIX

It was this moment when you realized that you fucked up. Feelings for Shouta are bubbling into your mind that you've been suppressing for years.

In high school, you and Aizawa were the best of friends. You would hang out constantly, tell him your deepest secrets, and you trusted him. That's why when you were in the battle with him and Endeavor, you felt so hurt.

Betrayed by him.

All the love you had for him went out the window. You couldn't believe he would risk your life like that.

You look down at the raven haired man that's laying with you. You stroke his hair, twisting his curls around your fingers. He's still sleeping - soundly at that. You felt his chest against your thighs move as he breathed slowly.

You sigh as you continue caressing his hair and dragging the tips of your fingernails across his scalp.

Your phone vibrates with a text from Keigo.

Keigo: I'm sorry about today. I can't believe how strong Shigaraki actually is.

You: It's not your fault, don't stress it. Did you get home okay?

Keigo: I did. Do you want me to come over? I'm down for a sleepover.

You look down at Aizawa sleeping soundly in your lap.

You: Not tonight. I'll call you tomorrow?

Keigo: Sounds good to me. Sleep well, baby bird.

You: Goodnight Kei.

Aizawa stirred in your lap as he gripped your plush thighs gently. He was mumbling words but not of them were audible.

He began to twitch and grip you tighter.

"Stop, please." You could finally understand him.

"Hey, Shouta." You nudged him gently. His eyes fluttered open with a panicked look on your face. "Relax." You whispered as you stroked his hair again.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked looking into your eyes.

"No." You shook your head as your eyes got lost within his. His eyes are beautiful, despite how tired they look. You could feel your heart beat faster as you kept looking at him.

"I should-" Aizawa attempted to stand up and leave the room, but you stopped him. You grabbed his wrist gently as he stood next to the bed.

"You should what, Shouta?"

He just... stared at you. His eyebrows furrowed as if he was talking to you with his mind.

"I can't read minds Aizawa." You kept holding his wrist, now tighter. "Don't make me get in your head."

"You don't want to know what's going on up here." His voice was low now. He kept his eyes on you, peering at you through his lashes.

"What do you want Shouta?" You prop yourself on your knees so you're a bit taller, almost at Aizawa's eye level. "Tell me." Your eyes move from his eyes, to his nose, to his lips - then back to his eyes.

Aizawa leaned in, his lips ghosting yours. "What I want to do, I can't do to you yet."

Shivers were sent down your spine. What did he mean he can't do it to you yet?

"What can't you do to me Shouta? Use your words."

"Anything that's going on up here. It's not time." He tapped his temple with his index finger.

Your lips form into a pout as you let go of his wrist. You turned your head to the side, refusing to look at him.

"Don't be a brat." Aizawa grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger, gently bringing your gaze back to him. "It's for your own good."

"You act like I can't put two and two together." You furrowed your eyebrows. "Obviously there's something going on here."

"What I want to do to you..." Aizawa leaned down to your level and rubbed his nose with yours. "I want to study each and every inch of your skin. I want to kiss you in places you've never been kissed. I want to learn what makes your toes curl. I want to taste you, Mirage."

There goes your heart again.

"Don't use my hero name, asshole." Your lashes fluttered against his cheeks.

"I thought it fit well." He shrugged and pressed his forehead to yours.

You wanted to kiss him. So badly. You wanted to feel his plush lips on yours. You wanted his large hands to grip your body caress your curves.

Aizawa must've known what you were thinking because he pressed his hand to your cheek. You leaned into his touch and took a deep breath.

Then you felt his lips on yours.

You swore you felt sparks that electrified your kiss. His lips are plush as he moves his mouth slowly, making sure he's feeling every part of your lips. You press your hand to his that's on your cheek and tilt your head to the side - your faces fitting together like a perfect puzzle pieces.

You wanted more. So much more.

But then Aizawa pulled his lips from yours slowly. You savored every moment of that kiss that you could but you already wanted more. The sounds of your lips parting is now your least favorite sound.

"That's it for now." Aizawa stood up and straightened his posture. "It's a school night and your first full day as a teacher."

"You're just gonna kiss me and expect me to act like that's a normal occurance?"

"What, the bird doesn't kiss you like that?"

No, no he doesn't.

But you really like Keigo. You like how you feel with him. How happy he is all the time. How caring he is about every detail of your life that you tell him.

He doesn't kiss you like that though.

Or at least, you don't feel this way after he kisses you.

You didn't answer him, instead you just look away. "Get out, Eraser."

"Don't be like that." Aizawa slipped his shoes on at your front door. "I'm making sure you get a good nights sleep and don't get distracted." He winked and gripped the doorknob.

"Goodnight." You stood up, turned around and stretched, putting your ass on full display for Aizawa. Your shorts hug your curves beautifully and he took notice. His eyes trailed your body, especially the soft parts of you. Your stomach, your hips, your thighs.

"You going somewhere?" He asked as you took a few steps towards your bathroom.

"Not that it's any of your business, but no. I'm going to shower. Get your stink off of me." You smirked as you opened the bathroom door. "Goodnight, Eraser."

Aizawa stood at your front door - one hand on the door knob and his eyes gazing at you.

"Did you forget something?" You let go of the bathroom door and walked over to him.

"I did." He nodded as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. He brought one hand to your hips as he kissed you, this time he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. You pulled away once you felt his tongue dance with yours.

"Don't start something you won't finish." You looked up at him through your lashes. "Goodnight Shouta."

"Goodnight." He smirked as he opened your door and left. You heard the few footsteps to his room, and his door close.

You put your hand on your chest as you feel your heart rate increasing. Every time he kisses you it's like he takes your breath away while at the same time he's giving you life. You touch your lips with your fingertips, still feeling the ghost of his lips on yours.

He's only 2 doors down from you but it might as well be 2,000 miles away.

__________________________

Monday morning came quickly. You showered even though you showered before bed, mostly because your mind was filled with thoughts of Aizawa.

Dirty thoughts. Nasty, even.

You put on a black midi skirt that hugged your curves, white platform converse, and a white t-shirt tucked into your skirt haphazardly.

You did your usual makeup and hair, then you were ready to get out the door. Your purse is on your counter when you grab it, your phone pinging with a message.

Keigo: Good luck today baby bird. I know you'll be amazing.

You smiled at the message and typed up a response.

You: Thanks Kei. You have a good day too :)

When you look up Shouta is locking his door. He has his hair pulled into a low ponytail, some of his front pieces of hair framing his face. You looked away from him once he looked at you and walked towards the halls of UA.

You settled into your classroom, writing your name on the board. Your first class will trickle in after homeroom, aka Aizawa's class.

You look over your lesson plans, mostly just introductions and what they think strategy means.

You tap your index finger on your bottom lip as you read some notes Nezu left for you when you hear a knock on the door.

"Hey, you ready for them?" You looked at Aizawa in the doorway.

"As I'll ever be." You smile as he swallows you with his eyes. He only nods in response as he lets the kids from class 1A in.

"You will behave for Ms. Mirage. Got it?"

"Yes, Mr. Aizawa!" The kids said in unison. He watched each kid enter your classroom and nodded at you when the last one walked in.

"Good morning." You smile at the classroom full of eager students. "You all know me already, so we can skip that introduction. But I want to know, what do you think strategy is?"

A couple of students raised their hands. Midoria, as always, very eager to learn shot his hand up first.

"Strategy is a plan to achieve a goal. It's essential when fighting villains!"

"You're right, Midoria." You smiled at him. He was so sweet, and willing to learn every day and better himself. You notice Ochako smile at him as if she had hearts in her eyes.

Ah, young love.

The rest of class went off without a hitch, not to your surprise. You know how to keep your ground and make sure the kids stay on task.

You said goodbye to them at the door as they filed out for lunch. You noticed a dual-haired boy try to sneak past you.

"Hey, Shoto." You gently place your hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"That depends. Are you gonna tell my old man if I tell you?"

You blink a few times as you try to understand what he's saying. As a teacher, you have to keep a good relationship with your students. They need to trust you above all else.

Even though you're good friends with his father, this stays between you and Shoto. He's like a nephew to you - you remember when he was just a baby crying in his mother's arms.

You shook your head 'no'. "Whatever you tell me is just for me. I don't need to report back to your father."

"Noted." Shoto said as he continued to walk out the door.

Just like his father.

You bring your bag to the teachers lounge for lunch. You watch Aizawa walk into the room first so you follow after him.

Except he's stopped at the doorway.

You turn your attention to where he's looking - at the round table in the middle of the room where some people eat and socialize during lunch hour. There are smaller tables in the lounge, but this is the biggest one.

A vase full of 4 dozen red roses was placed on the table.

"Ooooh, Mirage has a lover! Yamada held up the note attached to it. "Good luck my baby bird." He sang. Yamada laid the back of his hand on his forehead. "How romantic!"

"Tsk." Aizawa sucked his teeth as he walked to one of the tables on the outskirts of the lounge. You can't help but smile at Keigo's gesture and take a whiff of the aroma of the roses.

You: Thank you for the beautiful flowers.

Keigo: They could never be as beautiful as you, baby bird.

When you look up from your phone screen, Aizawa is staring at you. He takes a bite of his sandwich as his eyes stay glued on you.

"I'm gonna put these in my classroom until the end of the day." You grab the vase full of flowers and walk out of the room.

You can still feel Shouta's eyes burning into your skin.

[cuteandhughesy]

Yours | William Nylander

summary: you enlist williams help in trying to get his best friends kasperi kapanen’s attention. with a combination of practice dates, dating lessons, injuries and hiccups, william is determined to get you the guy - if you still want him that is. (in a world where covid didn't exist)

19.6K

warnings: SFW! friends to lovers | practice dating | unmutual pining | angst | descriptions of blood (reader gets injured) | descriptions of puke (reader gets thrown up on) | mean!kasperi kapanen | accidental groping | kissing | read at your own discretion.

link to masterlist

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

February 2021

"sorry man, traffic was crazy." the voice of kasperi kapanen has william looking up from the crisp white linen tablecloth and into the eyes of his finnish friend. he smiles, standing up to greet kappy in a proper hug, patting his shoulder twice before separating.

"no worries," willy nods, "I got here just 5 minutes ago."

kappy laughs out a breath, taking his seat. "good."

simultaneously they both pluck out the leather bounded menus from their slot, bouncing off recommendations and ideas within the walls of their shared favourite toronto restaurant.

their small chat and hushed laughter is silenced when a body stops infront of their two person table, and both sets of blue eyes landed on their waitress. smiling back at them was a tiny brunette with painted pink lips and long lashes fluttering along her cheeks. "hey, what can we get started for you guys?"

kappy's eyes dart down to her name tag before meeting her eyes again, "hello, lena, i'll take number 5 but replace the fries with steamed asparagus. just an ice water to drink."

the brunette jots down the order on her notepad before turning towards william. "and for you?"

she's blinking a him slowly and it has him clearing his throat, "i'll do the exact same, thank you."

he smiles politely while the waitress nods, grabbing their menus and leaving their table with a toothy grin.

william watches as his friend eyes the brunettes retreating figure, a low whistle blowing past his lips. kappy turns back towards the blond with raised eyebrows, "she's a rocket, no?"

william just shrugs, chuckling awkwardly.

"alright," kappy laughs, holding up his hands in defense. "how is everybody? the team, their families?"

william smiles at the thought of his teammates. "everybody is good. we miss you down here man."

"it's great to be back," the finland native says. he props a head on his fist, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "how's y/n?"

william's fingers still from where they were unwrapping the silk napkin from his cutlery, eyes darting up to find his friends. "what?"

kappy smirks, "I just haven't talked to her since like, before I got traded. you guys are still friends, right? how is she?"

william chuckles awkwardly, a blush creeping up his muscled chest. "well, actually..."

January 2020

your fingers are cold as they hold on to the mixing straw, twirling it through your vodka cranberry as your eyes observe the crowd infront of you.

a sigh leaves your lips gently. you're currently the only one sitting at your table, the VIP section that mitch marner always booked was elevated at the back of the club. it was slightly private, but still had a great view of the bar, the dj and the entire dance floor.

you're not left wallowing by yourself much longer, your good friend zach plopping down beside you, slightly sweaty and smelling of tequila. his breathlessness has you furrowing your brows, "you dancing that hard zachary?"

the leafs winger laughs, chugging down somebodies bottled water before turning back towards you. "what's up with you?"

you try not to frown, keeping a neutral expression as you look into his eyes. zach hyman was one of your best friends. the hymans grew up in the house next door to yours and because there wasn't many kids in your neighborhood, zach and yourself bonded quickly, a friendship blooming despite the four year age gap. the two of you stayed close even when zach went to high school, leaving you behind in middle school to fend for yourself, often crying about mean girls and bullies to him after the school day. despite it all, you two stayed friends. you met his now wife and grew close with her. you celebrated birthdays together, holidays together and watched with pride when zach got drafted and then traded to the leafs.

you loved him like a brother, and he loved you like a little sister. the two of you couldn't stay apart for long, and zach was determined for all his teammates to be your friends too. it wasn't long before he was dragging you to parties and events with his team: and it wasn't long before you were taken in by the group of NHLers. mitch and steph always inviting you first to halloween get togethers, morgan reilly making sure you came out to the bars and clubs, auston claiming you as a plus one to events held by the organization. it was like a small family - and you were so thankful.

surprisingly enough, you never actually wanted to date any of them. which was odd, because usually tall strong athletes were your weakness, but something about this group of guys felt different. that was until kasperi kapanen came along. you don't know exactly what changed within you, but you had the biggest crush on the finnish winger. maybe it was his curly hair, or possibly his plump lips, but you were smitten anytime he so much as smiled in your direction.

obviously, you told zach and alanna immediately, your feelings too strong and overwhelming you couldn't keep them in. "go for it!," zach had smiled, shaking your shoulders in excitement, but you denied.

I need time.

I don't want to ruin our friendship.

what if it goes wrong?

those excuses were running through your mind always when thinking about kappy. so you pushed your feelings away, choosing to admire from a distance. after awhile, zach and his wife stopped asking, and your crush became more manageable - easier to hide.

your best friends brown eyes were still burning into yours, snapping you from your own thoughts and back into the reality of the bustling club. "i'm fine," you smile.

zach sends you a look but you choose to ignore him, tilting your head back to catch the rest of your alcoholic drink to finish it off completely, the ice splashing on your mouth and nose.

"y/n." he says, his tone all too familiar. he's pitying you.

"oh look at that," you smile, wiping your face from the liquid, "I'm empty, i'm going to get another drink."

a couple people join you and zach back at the table just as you're standing up from your booth side seat.

"where you going?" morgan teases, taking a seat beside mitch and steph, auston not too far behind.

"drink," you mumble, sneaking between auston and the back of kerfoots unoccupied chair, escaping any further questions. you leave the VIP section with the feeling of zach's eyes burning into your exposed back.

you mumble apologies as you squeeze through dancing and moving bodies, trying your best not to trip over others feet as you begin your destination to the large bar. it sat circle style in the middle of the dance floor, so it doesn't take long before you make it over, flagging down the male bartender and placing your order.

this time you opt for something stronger, a shot of vodka and some fruity cocktail that caught your eye.

"cheers," you mumble to yourself, downing the shot with a full body shudder: using your cocktail as a chaser. you look out into the busy crowd for a momentary distraction but like usual, gravitational pull grabs you, and your eyes find kappy's dancing figure. he's laughing with a girl, which has you frowning, but his face distracts you from your tiny spurge of jealously, his angelic smile and bright eyes swooning you like usual.

"who are you staring at?"

you jump at the sudden voice and start choking on your drink - leaving you a coughing mess, catching your breath between each fit.

"fuck my bad," william nylander laughs, thumping his hand against your back until you can collect yourself.

"you scared me." once your body relaxes, you scold your friend, sending his cheeky smile a hard glare.

"I can tell."

you shrug, taking a slow sip of your drink to soothe your now raw throat. without much thought, you look back at your friend out on the dance floor, kappy still oblivious to your admiration.

"who are you staring at?" william asks again, straining his words in a way that has him sounding almost concerned: astonished.

you blink hard, eyes leaving kappy's figure to jump over to william's. "nobody!"

william's eyes widen at your tone but then he starts laughing that typical way he does and it has you glaring at the swede.

"what's so funny?" you seeth.

he takes a breath, "you're clearly watching somebody. you've got that sad...love sick look on your face - i've seen it before."

"what?" you screech, eyes wide from his call out.

william doesn't give you much of a chance to further question his statement, looking out into the crowd, eyes squinting as he searches the mass of people. "alright, y/n, point them out, who is it? i'll be your wing - man."

you can hear kappy's laugh in the crowd and your stomach drops as you see your mutual friend moving towards the both of you.

in a panic, you grab willy's chin between your thumb and two fingers, bringing his face back to yours. "don't look."

"why not?" his light eyebrows draw together, face slightly squished from your grip.

"willy-"

"hey guys," you're interrupted, kappy sliding up beside the two of you at the bar, "am I interrupting something?"

kappy laughs which has you blushing, dropping william's face. "no! absolutely not." you say, "you know us...just goofing around." you trail off, immediately cursing yourself for being so flustered.

"okay crazy," kappy laughs and it has you floating, the sound no doubt giving you that smitten look on your face william was seeing earlier - even with the unflattering nickname. kappy ruffles your hair and you might as well just pass away.

he flags down the bartender before ordering a beer and a margarita. "see that girl?" kappy gestures to the same one he was dancing with when you first spotted him, "she's hot right?"

you're pretty sure he's talking to william, because why would he care about your opinion on some girl, but you respond regardless, "oh yeah! super hot."

your voice is louder than anticipated and it has william nudging your thigh with his knee. even with his nudge, willy vocalizes an agreement.

"hopefully I get lucky," kappy smirks, grabbing the two drinks in between his big hands before bidding goodbye, moving through the dance floor and back towards that girl, your eyes not once leaving him.

that is, until you hear william gasp slightly. that bubble of panick is back swirling in your chest, and it has you spinning around to meet william's wide eyes. "kappy?" he asks you, his attempt at a quiet whisper very much failing.

you shush him loudly, smacking his peck with your open palm. "stop. quiet, I don't want to talk about it."

"is that who you were staring at with that face." he makes a weird gesture towards your head and it has you slapping his hand out of the air.

"please, willy, you can't say anything! only zach knows about my stupid crush, and it's embarrassing okay? look at that girl out there! he would never go for me, and that's okay! i'm okay with just admiring from afar and just strictly crushing. so please, keep this to yourself - I'll get over it-"

william slaps a hand over your mouth which has you effectively shutting up, your rambling being put to a halt. you are sending willam daggers because of his action, an unimpressed pull to yours eyebrows. but william isn't worried about that. he's looking at you gently, with what you can only assume is pity for you and your stupid feelings. "don't talk yourself down like that," he says.

your shoulders drop slightly. his press on your mouth eases up enough for you to slip your tongue out, prodding the palm of his large hand. he just smirks at your attempt to gross him out and it has you becoming even more annoyed with his hold on you. not long passing until you're mustering the strength to grab his wrist and pull his hand down. "why didn't you remove your hand?"

he just shrugs before wiping his hand against his shirt. "a little spit never hurt anybody."

william's attempt at trying to make you laugh is unsuccessful. you're still staring up at him with a worried expression, knawing the inside of your cheek. your eyes dart out into the crowd before back into his. "promise me," you whisper, "don't say anything."

william nods gently, your anxiety practically leaking out your pores and seeping into his own. his stomach swoops. "I would never." your face still holds a look of being unsure and it has him breathing out a laugh, "I promise."

that has you sighing, your body visibly relaxing at his words of a promise. without much thought,  for what feels like the millionth time that night, your eyes slowly make their way back to your mutual friend on the dance floor, still laughing and dancing with that smooth legged blonde girl. it has you frowning once more, your fragile heart cracking.

william can see it on your face, the way it drops in uncertainty. the look of longing and unrequited love swimming in your eyes. he knows all too well. without thinking much more, he blurts out, "I'll help you."

shoulders still deflated you turn your body back towards william completely. "what are you talking about?"

william leans his body against the bar top, "there's no reason that it shouldn't be you he's with, right? you're just as beautiful and capable as that girl he's with now. if you want kappy, i'll help you get him."

your brows are raised slightly, the disbelief evident. "how?"

william shrugs at first, because he really hadn't thought that far ahead. "im his best friend," he settles on, "I know everything about him. what he likes, what he doesn't...his type and what he looks for in a girl. we can meet up when we can...and i'll show you where he likes to go on dates and what he likes, essentially preparing you for when its the real thing with him."

"really?" you ask gently, "why would you do that?"

he shrugs again, "he needs somebody to whip him into shape, who better than you?" something changes in his eyes and he laughs gently, "plus I won't have to see your love sick face anymore."

you smile softly, pushing his shoulder without much force. "okay," your words are hopeful, "but I feel like I owe you-"

william shakes his head, "no no," his hands held up in defense.

he can see your thoughts turning in your head, and then your smiling brightly. "yes, yes. elizabeth! you think she's hot right?"

william gulps. you and elizabeth had been friends since college, and most of the time she joined you on nights like these with the team. glued to your side at bars, clubs and dinners: the team was familiar with her soft face. she was very beautiful, any single guy into woman would think so. "yeah, she's nice." william agrees.

"okay! so, i'll help you." you're smiling, hands grasped together. "you've been single for so long, willy, this is your chance. i'll help you with elizabeth if you help me with kappy."

"okay," william says after a beat. your smile gets larger and it has him mimicking you, his shiny teeth smiling back at you. "I would've done this regardless, even if elizabeth wasn't involved though."

"i know," you down the last bit of your drink, "but I felt bad- and now we are helping each other."

william just nods, watching as you swallow. the cold drink slipping down the corner of your mouth and down your chin until you're wiping it away. "alright," he says, hand extending out infront of him, "we got a deal."

you place your hand into his, shaking it twice. "we got a deal." you repeat.

—

it's not until two weeks later when willy texts you and asks to meet up. you're almost shocked at first, thinking that nights conversation was a fluke. him promising to help you get through to kappy was long forgotten - but clearly not.

willy

hey, we have an off day. wanna get

food and talk kappy plans ??

y/n

oh right

y/n

sure!

y/n

i mean if you want to !

willy

haha 🤣

his next text is the location of what looks to be a sandwich place, only 10 minutes from your apartment. you speed getting ready, throwing on the first thing you deem presentable in your closet before throwing your hair up in a ponytail, not bothering with much else before heading out the door, making the short drive to the address you'd been sent.

you're slightly breathless when you get there, pulling open the glass door only for your nostrils to be assaulted by the scent of fresh bread and coffee beans. the low light ambiance grabbing your attention immediately, a feeling of calmness flowing into your senses.

william is already there, his eyes catch yours from where he is ordering at the register. "there she is," he mumbles, "hey, what do you want?" he's beckoning you over to the cash, his loud voice catching the ears of others, which immediately has you blushing, speeding over to your friend to ensure he wouldn't yell out again.

"I can pay," you tell him.

william shakes his head, "don't worry about that - just order whatever you want."

you smile politely and give your order to the young woman behind the counter and you do let william pay, which has him smiling triumphantly. not long after your drinks are being called out, william leaving the small table the two of you had coined to collect the order.

when he returns, you're just slipping your jacket off, leaving you in your light gray mock neck top. he slides your cappuccino as well as an unknown bag towards you - which is holding a croissant sandwich that you definitely didn't order. "This isn't mine."

willy has an identical sandwich that's he's already starting biting into, "Oh, I ordered it before you walked over, I wasn't expecting you to be here so soon."

you nod, "I wasn't expecting you to be here so soon...or at all." william is chewing slowly, brows furrowed at your confession, "I just, I thought maybe you had forgotten about this whole..."

"plan kappy." he finishes after a swallow.

you nod, "yeah."

"I promised I would help you," william says, "I was just collecting my data." you roll your eyes playfully when he stars to chuckle. you're wringing your hands nervously, eyes surveying the restaurant moving around you.

william sighs, pushing the sandwich closer to you. the crinkle of the paper snapping you out of your own head and back to him and the cheesy sandwich. "you're fine, just eat before you get hangry."

you scoff, "I don't get - "

william gives you a looks that has you cutting yourself off, because yes, you did get hangry. in that moment, you stomach betrays any argument you may of had, rumbling at the thought of food. grabbing the sandwich, you don't hesitate, taking a very unattractive bite. you moan out, licking some mayo off your thumb.

william laughs gently. "i'm sorry it took so long for me to reach out. the teams been really busy and i've been so exhausted. fucking time zones."

"it's okay," you say between chewing. you could understand the pure exhaustion that would come with playing a physically demanding game all while trying to be awake and adapt to the east coast time change.

"it's not really," william sucks some spinach looking drink up through his straw, "I should've at least told you I was busy and planned a meet up. I hope I didn't make you feel like, i don't know...shitty."

"it's fine," you reiterate, "we never even set a timeline, honestly! for a little bit, I thought I dreamed that whole conversation, which was a whole thing." your rambling has william nodding along with an amused smile. "but then you texted me today so I was definitely certain it was real...so now i feel less crazy." the look he's giving you has you stopping, covering you eyes. "sorry, i'm just feeling anxious about this whole thing. i'm so clueless."

"you're not clueless," william says. "we will figure it out."

you gulp, dropping your hands from your face, "what do I do?"

"first things first," william says, dusting his hands off before leaning into the table and closer towards you. "kappy isn't the best when it comes to girls - sure, he can flirt but he's not a boyfriend kind of man, more of a one night stand...enthusiast. I assume you don't want to be a one night stand?"

you shake your head no, "okay, so. how should I act? how should I dress?"

"act like yourself," william says immediately, "you have the best personality. you just need to be more confident when it comes to him. kappy likes confidence."

"confidence, okay. fake it till i make it."

he smiles, "fake it till you make it." willam agrees. "I picked this place because kappy likes this spot. he comes here for breakfast a lot. so if you can, bring it up in conversation."

you smile, "I can do that."

william finished his last bit of food. "saturday night, we were planning on going out for a couple drinks to celebrate mango's birthday."

you nod, taking another huge bite of your sandwich, seemingly unaware of what william was suggesting. "okay." you hum through your mouthful of tomato and cheese.

he laughs, "okay, so, come. kappy will be there and we can start this whole thing."

"right! okay." you try to suppress the nervous butterflies fluttering around your belly, bashing against your sides in a way that has you feeling weak. "you'll be there too, right? In case I need your help."

"you'll be great, don't worry." he says, "and If i wasn't going to be there I wouldn't of invited you," william holds a teasing grin.

"right," you hum, rubbing the back of your neck. "what should I wear?"

william shrugs, "whatever you want. he likes the colour red...if that's any help."

"red, okay." you're already taking mental notes of what's in your closet, flashes of articles dyed those ruby tones you needed. "I can do that."

"alright, now," william stands from his set, his chair scraping along the tiled floor loud enough to leave you cringing. "let's go around the city for a bit, i'll show you some of his favourite spots."

you're still sitting at the table, a bit dumbfounded as you watch him slip his puffer coat back over his broad shoulders. william chuckles, grabbing your garbage off the table, "are you coming? or am i going by myself."

"shut up," you hit his bicep, standing up less than gracefully. "you're so impatient."

"you hurt me, y/n," he feins pains, grasping his left peck like his heart was broken, "after all I've done for you."

you're laughing beside him which has william stopping his antics, releasing his chest while smiling down at you.

"okay, drama queen, where to next?"

william leads you through the city for the rest of the day, pointing out kappy's favourite boutiques, eateries, bars and anything in between. the two of you walk until dusk settles over the sky, william treating you to another meal before the two of you part ways, a promise from william that he will text you before the weekend with the finalized plans.

you got to bed that night happy with a stomach full of mouth watering chinese food (which you successfully convinced willy to get, claiming he could be unhealthy just for one day.) a smile adorned your face as you close your eyes, your plan with willy feeling successful- and it hasn't even begun.

you couldn't wait for saturday.

—

william does text you in the days leading up to saturday. offering you a couple more quips about his best friend as well as keeping you updated about plans and game schedules alike. it's friday night, just after 11p.m, when william texts you the finalized location and who's all going and so on and so forth.

the thought of the following evening has you giddy, brushing your teeth for bed with a little extra sway in your hips, not even caring when toothpaste falls from your tube and lands on your top.

you wake up saturday in the same mood, a smile adorning your face even though the nerves were running ramped through your veins.

you force yourself to eat a brunch, eggs and real cheese smooshed in between your last everything bagel, along with orange juice poured over a concerning amount of ice that you would inevitably knaw on once the liquid was drank.

your phone bings, bringing you out of your quiet meal.

zachary

hey. what are you doing tonight? did you want to come watch thatnew movie we've been talking about seeing?

you frown at your phone, the message from your best friend pushing down at your heart until it feels heavy. without meaning to, you hadn't texted or talked to zach in a week. the combination of two busy schedules along with yourself and williams escapades, zach had been put on your back burner.

y/n

hey

y/n

i'm actually going out

y/n

for mango's thing

y/n

william invited me

y/n

i'm sorry

zachary

don't apologize! it will be fun

we can do movie night another

night 😊

zachary

so...william invited you? 😏🧐

y/n

yes

y/n

don't send me those emojis!😤

y/n

william and I are friends

y/n

actually i'm helping him with something

zachary

oh yeah? and what's that

y/n

i'll tell you when i see you next

zachary

oh god

the conversation with zach lasts a little longer, and then you have to shower, so you bid goodbye to your oldest friend with a promise to hang next time he had a free evening.

you take your time getting ready, blow drying your hair straight until the heat has you sweating, leaving you to stand naked in the star fish pose in front of your stand alone fan until you can cool down.

as you're finishing up your makeup, swiping your pen along your eyelid to create a black wing, you almost wish kappy was there - that way he would be able to see all the effort you were putting in for him: for his attention and affection.

you were kind of left exhausted before you got dressed.

you slip on your favourite black mom jeans, the denim immediately hugging and wrapping around the curves of your hips. a top is strappy in the back, exposed your tanned skin from the neck down, the cherry red tank top sitting loose and plain on your front. you're stumbling over yourself as you try and zip up your black booties on your way to the front door, grabbing your bag and your thin wind breaker that definitely wasn't a match for the canadian winter air, and head out the door.

you arrive at the bar 15 minutes later, tipping your uber before exiting the warmth of the car and into the early february air.

you do a half run half walk to the front door, pulling open the heavy slate of oak until the warmth and sticky sweet smell envelope you, sucking you into the bar with ease.

"fuck," you mumble, your teeth chattering at the last bit of cold. you slip off your next to nothing jacket and hang it over your bent arm. you try your best to fix your hair in the terribly scratched mirror that hangs on the wall next to you, checking your teeth for any lipstick or seeds from your bagel earlier.

the clock alerts you that it's 8:45 p.m., 5 minutes after the time william said kappy would be there. with a sigh, you decided your presentable enough, moving around the small group gathered near the front and walking further into the bar.

"there she is!" you hear the distinctive voice of andreas johnsson call out to you, his deep accent bringing a smile to his face. you find them almost instantly, a smile tugging up at your mouth until your moving, joining your friends at the high table and chairs they've taken over.

"happy birthday," you sing song once you get to them, wrapping andreas in a hug until he kisses your cheek, squeezing you tight before releasing you.

"thank you," he laughs, "you look smokin," he teases, spinning you around until you're both laughing.

"whatever," you mumble. "oh," you gasp, hands pulling at your bag until you can reach inside, "I have something for you!" your fingers latch onto the crisp envelope that holds a birthday card, pulling it out and slipping it infront of him. "you don't need to open it now, but I didn't want to forget."

"you're too kind," johnsson says, giving you one more squeeze.

william is already standing when you meet his eyes, and he sends you a knowing smirk before pulling you into a hug. "he's at the bar," his words are whispered against the shell of you ear. it has you nodding, pulling away.

you greet timothy liligren and rasmus sandin who are accompanying the other chairs: warm greetings sent your way from your swedish friends. william takes your bag and coat from where they are draped over your arm, hanging them on the back of the empty chair beside him.

you go to take your seat but willy nudges you, eyes darting over to the bar. you see kappy - he's laughing with mitch and some brunette girl, all sipping drinks as they converse.

the hint was taken, "i'm going to grab a drink," you say, making your way over until you're standing in front of them.

mitch sees you first, "hey! how's it going?" he pulls you into a brief hug, which you return delicately.

"good, good," you nod, releasing mitch. before you can freak yourself out and over analyze everything about yourself, you're turning your body so your entire front is facing kappy. you're so close to him, if you lean in anymore than an inch, your boobs would be pressed against his bicep.

"hey kappy," you smile.

he doesn't move to hug you but he smirks all syrupy at you, eyes flicking down to your top. it give you a boost of confidence, a blush creeping up your chest and burning the tips of you ears.

"hey crazy," he teases, "you look good."

you breathe out a laugh, blinking a few times. "thanks," then you think about what willy said: confidence. so you decide to say, "I know I do."

once you say it, immediately you know that's not the right thing to say and definitely the wrong kind of confidence: more cocky if anything. it's confirmed by the look mitch sends your way, the mysterious brunette girl snorting into her drink.

"I mean...no. I don't know I do - or, no! yes, thank you."

kappy laughs, gripping your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "you want a drink?"

you nod, saving yourself any more embarrassment by staying silent. kappy flags down the bartender, ordering you a drink. a moment later, he's passing you a corona and you send him a tight lipped smile - taking a sip of the bitter drink and praying that your disgust isn't evident on your face.

mitch has left in the time your drink was ordered, leaving yourself with your crush and that same girl, who still hasn't introduced herself but instead orders another drink for herself. when she turns back around to face you, you are smiling expectantly at her but she just looks down into her drink.

you sigh, "hey, i'm y/n."

she finally meets your eyes, "lacy."

you try not to scoff at her attitude, raising your brows high. kappy doesn't seem to mind his...friends? attitude, talking over his shoulder at liligren.

"hey, did you want to dance?" the words leave your mouth before you can think it through. kappy looks back down at you.

"dance?"

"yeah!" you smile, "I love to dance! do you like dancing?"

kappy runs a hand through his hair, "i'm a terrible dancer."

"me too, that's what makes it fun."

"alright," kappy smiles. he grabs your hand, holding your palm against his own. immediately your knees go weak, letting him pull you away from the bar and out onto the makeshift dance floor. it isn't too busy, just enough people to make you not feel like you're being watched.

he dances fine, you think. his hands placed on your body appropriately, spinning and twirling you around until you're laughing, blushing and sweating.

over his shoulder, you catch the steel blue eyes of willy, who smiles encouragingly, tossing you a thumbs up that has your eyes widening, gesturing back and forth between him and the man you were dancing with: like a kid trying to tell their parent to stop embarrassing them.

william laughs, you can hear it from where you are. it has you joining in, rolling your eyes playfully and throwing him your middle finger subtly.

"you good?" kappy asks, his breath tickling your hairline.

your face falls, like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't. "yeah."

you're looking up at him when his eyes flicker away, looking behind you...and then he's pulling away. "lacy is calling me over -i'm going to grab another drink."

"oh," he's already walking away before you can finish, "okay. sounds good."

your face falls in a slight disappointment, standing alone in the middle of the dance floor while couples and friends move sound you. once again, you catch williams eyes.

his brows pull together in question which earns a shrug from you. your actions clearly enough communication for him and then you're watching the blond stand from his seat, slipping in between bodies until he's front of you. "what happened?"

"I don't know," you whine, "he said lacy was calling him over- said something about getting another drink."

"you didn't want to join them?"

you scoff, "lacy is kind of a bitch."

william laughs deeply. saved from the embarrassment of standing on the dance floor, he's pulling you into his body, hand resting heavy on your waist while his other clasp's one of yours, swaying the two of you to the sound tequila.

"should I go up there?" your question has william sighing.

"no. give it a minute. you don't want to look too...I don't know...clingy."

a frown pulls at your lips, "but I am clingy."

your words sound so genuine it has william smirking down at you. "that's okay, but he won't like that."

you nod, eyes surveying the room around you. the air grows silent between the two of you for a few minutes, the both of you just bathing in the calmness of one another's presence. it's you who breaks the silence though, a distant look on your face. "why is it he's always with somebody else?"

william looks at you sadly, which has you immediately regretting your question. you almost want to take it back but then he's sighing, "kappy is...complicated. he likes the attention."

"do I not give enough?"

he looks at you in shock, "what? you give enough. he's just...," he trails off, taking a deep breath before continuing, "too clueless to see what's right in front of him."

you don't say anything, too busy watching the way williams eyes soften.

he clears his throat, "that's you, by the way."

his tease has you giggling. "thank you, I would've had no idea who you were talking about if you didn't clear that up."

your banter has him smirking, sending a quick pinch to the dip of your hip where his hand is sitting. "loser," william whispers, his usual grin softly adorning his face. his face changes just as the song does, "also did I see you drinking a beer? you hate beer."

the reminder of your beverage has you groaning, that sour taste attacking your tastebuds once again. "oh my god yes," your head lulls down, "don't remind me." he laughs.

"wanna get something new to get your mind off it?"

you're gasping at that, "yes, I thought you'd never ask."

then the two of you disconnect. the dance floor has become more crowded since you first walked out onto it, bodies pushed together that effectively block a clear path. william's hooking a finger through the belt loop on your jeans, dragging you behind him as he uses his sheer size to make way through the crowd, bringing you both to the bar. you're not sure why you're blushing.

"done dancing?" kappy teases when he sees you again. you laugh awkwardly, shrugging.

"yeah, my partner kept stepping on my feet."

william scoffs, "whatever." but then he's laughing, flagging down the same bartender from earlier in the night until he catches their attention, ordering himself a diet coke and you a vodka cranberry. your mouth is salivating in anticipation at the thought of your favourite drink.

"he's always been a terrible dancer," kappy teases his friend, bumping williams shoulder with his own.

expect william doesn't laugh too hard, only a breath of a small chuckle leaving his lips. "at least I don't leave my partner on the dance floor."

his tone has you gulping, eyes darting between the two hockey players. "willy," your words come out between a forceful whisper and a shaky scold.

kappy throws his hands up in surrender, a smirk still on his face. "I was being summoned."

for the first time, lacy speaks up. "yeah that's totally my bad...I was lonely." her voice is more slurred then the last time you heard it, eyelids falling heavy in a way that very much gave away the state of her intoxication. "I just didn't want to stand alone, you get it, right girl?"

yeah, you think, you do get it because you were left standing alone in the middle of the dance floor because she was lonely - but you just nod, too sober to argue with a drunk girl.

william hands you your freshly made drink, to which you take roughly, chugging the entire thing in one go. the next few moments are kind of a blur. you place your empty glass on the counter, leaning close to lacy to do so. lacy grabs your arm, mumbling something incoherent in between quiet burps and then she spews. literally spews.

you jump away but it's no use, lacy had thrown up the contents of the night all over your front, the hot liquid soaking into your clothing and sticking to your skin. you can feel the colour drain from your face. "oh my god," you cry.

"oh shit, are you okay?" kappy asks, hands hovering over lacy's back.

"i'm sorry," lacy mumbles, wiping her mouth with the back of her tanned hand, "I didn't feel well."

"oh my god." you repeat.

"are you okay?" william is the one asking this time, expect he's asking you, the recipient of the vomit attack.

you take a deep breath through your mouth, too scared to use your nose. you look down and see you are completely covered, all the way down to your black shoes. vomit puddles on the floor below you and you start panicking, shaking your hands in despair.

"I need to go outside."

"yeah, okay," william nods, guiding you by the back of your neck towards the exit. this time, he doesn't need to use his body to make a path, the pure stench and look of you has people clearing the way.

you can hear kappy flagging down some help for a clean up just as william is opening the door, a wave a cold air hitting you. your wet clothes immediately feel 10 times worse. "what do I do?" you cry. you can also assume you're standing like a robot, making sure none of your limbs touch one another. "I have emtaphobia."

"emta- what?" willy asks, eyes swimming with a look you can't decipher.

"I'm scared of puke, william." the use of his full name has his eyes growing wide. "what do I do? I can't keep these clothes on."

"no, you're right," he trails off, looking around frantically for a moment, "okay! I have some clothes in my car. you can change."

your panick is still swirling deep in your stomach, your fear so badly taking over. you try to distract yourself with the press william had on your back as he guides you to his car, taking shaky deep breaths as best you can.

the beep of the car is another distraction, the lights momentarily shocking you. william rounds you both to the trunk, popping the hatch open. it's relatively clean back there, a few rolls of hockey tape and some loose articles of clothing spewn about, not doubt thrown astray form driving. "okay, just take what you need."

you nod.

"do you need help?"

you survey yourself again, "no, umm, I think I got it. just...don't leave. turn around or something."

he turns around.

"no peeking," you try and joke, laughing awkwardly at yourself to save yourself from crying.

"I would never," williams teasing has you feeling a bit more relaxed, your hands that were previously shaking now much more manageable. you pull your tank top off, and miraculously avoid getting any of lacy's vomit in your hair. your bra is also affected, which has you surveying the dark parking lot to make sure nobody could see you. the coast is clear and you unclip the undergarment, letting it fall to the ground along with your tank top. you quickly grab a blue hoodie, the maple leaf logo embroidered on the front. you pull it over your head, the number 88 sitting heavy on your collarbone.

you make quick work of your jeans, throwing on a pair of sweatpants after you kicked off your shoes, leaving you standing in just your socks. "okay, i'm done."

william turns around to see you standing there, a sad look on your face. your hands are gripping his sweatpants tightly, preventing them from falling down.  "i'm so embarrassed," you finally say, tears brimming your waterline.

"don't be," he strains.

"why did it have to happen infront of kappy? I probably looked ridiculous."

"if it's any consolation," william says, "everybody looks ridiculous covered in puke."

that has you laughing slightly, a single tear falling down your cheek that has you using your shoulder to wipe it away. "can you - umm, call me a cab?"

"no," william says quickly. your brows raise, ready to lay into him. "i'll drive you home."

"you don't have to."

"I want to." he doesn't look at you when he says it, busy shutting the trunk of his vehicle. willy steps over the pile of pukey clothes by your feet, "here's my keys, start the car and i'll go get our stuff from inside."

you don't argue, feet too cold from the frosted concrete. that has you getting into the passenger seat and letting the car warm up. it isn't 5 minutes later that william walks back out of the bar, your jacket and purse over his shoulder, a plastic bag in his hand. you don't see where he goes as he rounds the back of his car, the sound of the trunk opening and closing just before you see that head of blonde hair again, william walking over to the driver's side and getting in.

"i'll wash them for you," he is rubbing his hands together, trying to warm them up, "don't even worry about it."

he's talking about your clothes. your red top and favourite pair of jeans. you feel like crying again. "thank you." you sniffle as he's putting the car into drive, "I would've just thrown them out."

he laughs lightly, "no doubt."

the drive is silent for the first 5 minutes but then william is sighing, pulling up to a red light. "i'm sorry that happened to you. I hope you're not scarred from ever accepting my invitations to go out again."

"never," you laugh, "well, as long as lacy isn't there." despite your laughter, your voice is very much serious and william doesn't doubt it.

"lacy, never again. got it."

"thank you for helping me, willy." you whisper a few minutes later. you recognize that your close to your apartment complex, the neighbouring buildings providing a sense of familiarity.

"always," he says, "promise."

you nod at him softly, a sweet smile on your face.

—

the next morning when you wake up it's with a groan, the memories of the night before heavy on your brain. after william dropped you off, you obviously showered, your damp hair against the pillows a reminder that you are clean - your momentary surge of panic ending.

but then your embarrassment comes back. you can only imagine the sheer terror on your face the moment you were douced in throw up - the miniature freak out that followed with it. kappy hadn't even checked in on you: when it happened or after the fact.

you groan again, tossing back your blanket at the same time you grab your phone off the night stand: frowning at the lack of texts from kappy once more. suddenly you're hit with a wave of loneliness, wanting nothing more than the comfort of your best friend.

y/n

can you come over ?

y/n

something I want to tell you about

the phone dings a moment later

zachary

of course. want a sandwich from tony's?

y/n

yes

y/n

please

zachary

bacon egg and cheese okay?

y/n

yes please 👍🏼

when zach lets himself into your apartment, you're lounging on the couch, still wearing your pyjamas and glasses, slippers covering your feet.

"hey," he calls out, kicking the door shut with his foot. you push to sit up, grabbing the drink tray from his arm that's also holding a paper bag with yummy breakfast sandwiches. the puke incident still has you feeling a bit weary of eating but you do your best to ignore it, thanking zach as he takes a seat beside you.

he must be able to feel your anxious energy. "something happen last night?" his voice is cautious, unwrapping his food.

you take a deep breath, taking a small bite of your sandwich and chewing it slowly. "I got fucking puked on."

he sucks in some air, "you okay? how did that happen?"

you nod, "i'm fine. it was this girl..."

there's something you aren't saying, zach call tell. the way you won't meet his eyes, running your hand through your un-brushed hair. "what else?"

he knows you too well, you think. "I got puked on...in front of kappy and totally, like, panicked. I had to fucking strip down in the parking lot behind willy's car. oh my god, and the girl, lacy, was totally there with kappy and I just," you take a deep breath, "i'm so embarrassed. I looked so stupid standing there infront of him covered in his dates vomit."

as if zach can sense your feelings, he moves closer, pulling you into his side for a much appreciated hug. you love him so much, you think. because instead of your best friend teasing you about how you were still crushing on his teammate, zach was empathetic with you. "don't be embarrassed," he says, "anybody would look silly covered in puke."

you laugh, "that's pretty much what willy said."

zach raises his brows, "we know you too well I suppose."

you nod gently, bringing your thumb to your lips and beginning to pick. "there's something else."

zach just nods, urging you to continue.

"willy, he umm, he's helping me with," you ponder wording, "getting kappy to ask me out."

"what?"

"he's essentially like, training me for a date with kappy." zach laughs which has you joining in. "I know it sounds stupid! but it's kind of working! he danced with me for a bit last night - he did leave me on the dance floor though which was a whole different thing-"

"he left you alone on the dance floor?" zach sounds angry.

you shake your head, "it's okay, though. willy saved me - anyways, besides the point. willy is helping me with kappy and in return I told him I'd get him a date with liz."

"liz?" zach asks, brows raised. "like your friend elizabeth?"

you nod.

"does liz know?"

you shake your head, "absolutely not. I don't want her to feel like a pawn."

zach breaths a laugh, "she is a pawn."

"no! well, yes," you nod, "but no! because willy didn't even ask! I was the one who offered after he mentioned helping me."

"hold on," he says, eyes squinting, "willy just...offered to help you get with his best friend?"

you purse your lips, "pretty much."

"a bit weird, don't you think?"

your brows draw together, "no. we are friends! he's just helping me out."

"okay."

"why? do you think it's a bad idea?"

"no. not if you're happy with it."

"I am," you smile automatically, "I think it will work."

zach mimicks your expression, "then I think it's a great idea." he takes another bite of his food.

"okay now help me get my mind off last night," you shiver, taking another hesitant bite of your breakfast.

zach laughs around his mouthful, "have you watched the new episode of love is blind yet?"

and then he's diving into an explanation, insisting you both watch the episode before he has to go back home for his pre-game meal and nap. the conversation between the two of light hearted and a much needed healer for your brain rot. it's nice and even after zach leaves, you don't think about the night before, sucked into the rest of the show.

the next couple days are pretty quiet. the leafs have a few games back to back at the beginning of the week, and you're pretty swamped at your job as well. but then wednesday comes, and the leafs have an early afternoon game - leaving the evening open.

that's how you end up at williams apartment wednesday night: feasting on a balanced meal william insisted you would enjoy (it was actually really delicious but you kept teasing him that it wasn't- news flash: he saw right through you).

"why are we watching this movie?" you question, slouched down on the plush couch cushions of williams expensive sectional, one of his dogs curled up at your feet.

"it's kappy's favourite," william says. he's in the same slouched position as you, shoulder almost pushing into yours.

you groan, "seriously? the godfather is his favourite movie."

you can't hide you look of distaste, and it has william giggling at your expression. he shrugs, "that's what he says." he pauses, rolling his head against the cushion so he can look at your face, "what's yours?"

you ponder for a moment and then smirk. "you can't judge me."

"never," he promises automatically.

"if I had to just pick one... it would be tinkerbell."

you expect him to laugh at you, call you a baby and then explain why something like fight club is a much more suitable film. but instead he nods, "respectable."

"think so?" you ask, brows raised in a slight disbelief.

"yeah," he laughs slightly. "is that alright tinkerbell?" william is back to his usual teasing laugh and that has you sighing, a playful roll to your eyes.

"if anything, you're tinkerbell - not me."

william laughs loudly, "well I wasn't going to say it but..."

you giggle, pushing his shoulder gently. "what's your favourite movie?"

"I don't have one." he says after a few beats.

you gasp, turning your head towards him. william is still looking at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. it has you taking a shallow gulp. "okay, well then i'm going to tell people it's tinkerbell as well."

you expect a protest but instead, "okay." that same expression on williams face, all soft and gooey until your stomach flips. "hey," he whispers, "we have the family skate friday. you should come."

"should I?" you tease.

"I want you to." as if william realized what he said, he sits up quickly, cleaning his throat, "kappy will be there after all."

you follow suit, sitting up, "right, of course."

he smiles, "i'll pick you up friday then."

you can't help but smile in return, "alright."

the clock that hangs on the wall tells you that it's late, well past midnight and it has you sighing: already dreading your early work day tomorrow. "I should probably go..." you start to push the blanket off, "I work early."

"what time? i'll drive you before skate." william says immediately, "i mean, you can stay over. like you said, it's late and maybe you shouldn't drive."

your heart flutters twice against your rib cage. "I work at 7, but it's fine, really, I don't want to intrude."

he shakes his head, "tuck yourself back in and watch the movie."

you snicker and do what he suggest, snuggling back under the fuzzy blanket that you shared with the blonde beside you. "bossy," you remark. willy just laughs into your shoulder.

a few minutes later you jolt, "an alarm." you say, your hands searching frantically under the cover. you finally locate your cell, but then willy hisses gently, jerking his body away from yours in a way that has you panicking.

"that's not your phone." he laughs awkwardly.

your face drops, "oh my god." you had totally just grabbed your friends dick in mistaking it for your phone. then you blush, "i'm so sorry!"

he just laughs at your panick, hand slipping out from under the blanket with your phone, "here's your phone."

you take it from him gingerly, closing your eyes with embarrassment. "willy, I-"

"it's okay," he smiles, "it's not like it was the worse thing in the world." his face falls when he realizes what he says, "no! that came out wrong, I didn't mean to sound so creepy."

his embarrassment is clear and it has you laughing gently, "now we are both embarrassed."

willy just smiles at you in a way that if you two weren't just friends, you would mistaken for lovingly. "yeah," he says gently.

you just look back towards the tv with a gentle smile.

you never did set your alarm.

—

"do you know how to skate?" william teases. he's wearing his practice gear still, just without his gloves. his bare hands placed on his hips as he observes you.

you give him a look, your hands gripping onto the outdoor rinks wall, skate covered feet still flat on the black padding of the makeshift bench area. he laughs at your unbothered expression, skating in a small circle before going still again. "yes, I know how to skate."

you still don't make a move to step out onto the ice, fingers going cold against the ledge.

"alright," william skates to the left slightly, "come on then."

you nod, gulping slightly when john tavares skates past you, his kid tucked between his legs as they zip through. your eyes meet william's again, "alright, I will."

without much more thought, you take a hesitant step onto the sheet of ice, your one foot quickly followed by the other. you still have a hold on the ledge but it doesn't seem that willy minds your pace, still waiting patiently behind you.

your head whips around when snow hits your jeans, zach coming to quick stop and effectively snowing your lower half. "hey!" you screech.

your best friend just laughs, "you're skating?"

you scoff, eyes squinting his direction. "yeah"

"y/n. you can't skate."

your mouth hangs open, another scoff escaping.

"I thought you said you could," william teases.

"I can!" you say in a tone of disbelief, still giving your giggling best friend a look, "just," you trial off, eyes moving around the rink as players and their families skate laps, "not well."

zach just laughs louder at your confession, and then he pats william on his shoulder, "good luck."

all you can do is laugh in pure shock, your best friends words still ringing in your ears. william just laughs along, which was...rude. he skates forward until he's close enough to touch, "c'mon."

his hand is extended towards you, an invitation to grab on. "i can skate just fine, I promise. I just suck with balance."

"I believe you," he smiles, "just grab my hand and i'll drag you along."

you look at his hands again, "okay, just...don't go too fast."

your cold hands grasp onto his, your grip tight on his much larger palms. "I won't."

immediately he takes off backwards, doing what he claimed and pulling you along, starting to take you both around for your first lap. even though he's skating backwards, he's dodging and zipping between the people effortlessly.

"i'm kind of impressed," you laugh, "you're really good at skating."

he gives you a look, "you do know i'm a professional, right?"

you laugh loudly, head falling back briefly. "okay! it's still impressive. don't make fun of me, i'm giving you a compliment."

"wouldn't dream of it," william insists, "thanks for the compliment." the two of you are almost back to where you started the lap. you can tell william is going slower than he could be for your sake, his teammates passing you both without effort. "okay," william starts, slowing down, "now your turn to try."

"what? no," william is already dropping your hands, somehow manoeuvring out of your death grip so that your standing alone. he doesn't leave you, but skates a couple meters back. "willy!" you whisper shout, arms out in front of you like bambi.

"skate towards me," he says.

you shake your head, "no, i'll fall."

"you won't," william assures, "and if you do, i'll catch you."

at the same time william finishes his scentence, rasmus is whirling past, laughing when you screech at the sounds of his skates tearing up the ice beside you.

"you got it," william says, effectively grabbing your attention again, "and then after this you can hold onto me again."

"promise?"

he laughs gently, "I promise."

"okay," you mumble to yourself, you look down at your feet but then remember every time zach had tried to teach you, hammering the rule that you definitely shouldn't look down when you're skating.

you meet williams eyes once again, using your left foot to push off, followed by your right foot. your arms are still trying to keep your balance, stuck out your sides. you're sure you resemble a baby giraffe learning to walk, but you can't find yourself caring, your feet still moving you towards william. "i'm doing it?"

your voice comes out as a question and it has him giggling, "you are. bend your knees a little more."

you smile brightly, almost close enough that you could reach out and grab onto the white jersey covering willy's shoulder pads. you're still feeling wobbly, just barley gliding on the ice, but it's still working - you hadn't fallen over. "there you go!"

"yeah, I think i'm -" your suddenly panicking, the pick of your skate catching a small dip on the ice's surface. then you arms are flailing at your sides, desperately trying to keep your balance so your face doesn't smack into the ice. but, you're already slipping, preparing yourself for the pain of falling.

"woah," william says, hands grabbing around your sides, fingers pressing under your rib cage to pull you up straight, effortlessly stopping your accident before it happens. "you okay?"

his eyes are filled with concern, dancing over your face as if to look for any injuries - even though there was no possible way. after all, he did save you.

you're slightly breathless, hands holding on tightly to william's biceps. "yeah...yeah i'm okay." looking around, you see a couple people's eyes linger, small smirks on their lips.

"want to stop?" william whispers, slightly crouched so he can look into your eyes.

you blush, "no, just keep skating with me before I die of embarrassment."

he laughs gently, breath tickling your frost bitten cheeks. "okay," he nods, immediately fulfilling your wishes. his hands leave your ribs, dragging down the underside of your arms until he's gripping your hands, skating backwards with you once again.

your eyes are still wandering, checking the people around you with your lip between your teeth, brows pulled together.

as if william can sense your worries, he tugs on your hands to grab your attention. "nobody is looking at you."

"what if - "

"- or making fun of you," he interrupts, "I promise."

you nod and willam smiles, changing direction so that you're the one now moving backwards, william skating forward as he pushes you gently along. the change of direction has him holding onto your waist, a better position for the movement. he can feel your grip on his muscles tighten, but you don't say anything, even a small laugh bubbling out as he spins you two quickly.

"oh gosh, willy!" your laughter is like music as you scold him, your words holding no bite with that smile beaming on your face - william effectively taking any lingering embarrassment you had been feeling and throwing it away. "you're going to make me dizzy."

he laughs, "you will be fine - " william starts, but his words are cut short, not watching where the two of we're going until he's backing you into a person, stopping all three of you from skating at the collision.

kappy grunts at the impact, his hands grabbing your shoulder from behind to stop you all from tumbling over. immediately, william lets go of you, and you spin around the best you can with your still shaky balance.

"woah," the finnish native mumbles, his deep tone burning your ears.

the sight of kappy's face as you blinking hard, your brain reminding you of why willy invited you to the family skate in the first place: and here he was in front of you.

"kappy, hey." you're breathing out. "sorry, we didn't mean-"

"my bad," william interrupts, his earlier chipper tone gone.

you nod gently, arms crossing over your chest but immediately dropping back to your sides, the loss of stability causing you to teeter slightly.

"all good," kappy says, "you guys having fun?"

"oh yeah," you smile brightly, blinking up at him slowly, "this is great fun."

"I saw your almost fall earlier," kappy laughs and it has your smile falling, "are you always that clumsy? first the vomit and then the slipping, you're full of surprises huh?"

you laugh awkwardly, "oh, umm-“

william says sharply, "she's not clumsy."

you send the blonde a harsh look, "no it's okay. I am," you turn back towards kappy, "-clumsy. very clumsy."

"no," william laughs in disbelief, "you're not-"

"heads up!" a voice calls out from somewhere on the rink. you look over to try and find the source of the commotion, but just as you do, a puck smacks fast into the boards, hitting a dip in the ice and flinging back through the air, smacking you right in the face.

you scream out, hands immediately flying to your nose. you can feel the hot liquid seep through your fingers, your blood dripping onto your coat.

"oh fuck," kappy gasps.

you can feel a hand press gently against your back, a slight rubbing movement over your white puffer.

"here," william says, "move your hands."

william has taken off his jersey, holding it right under your hands. when you take them away, he's immediately pressing the material to your face, catching the blood before it can hit the ice.

a small crowd has gathered around you, looks of concern and words of worry all flying around that have your head spinning. "fuck," you whine when willy applies some extra pressure.

"I know, sorry," he says quickly.

"i'm sorry!" the words are falling from jake muzzin's mouth, "my kids were fucking around and the puck just, like, flew through the air."

"it's okay," you wince, "i'll be fine."

"the medical staff are still here," aryne tavares says beside you. "you should get that checked out...that's a lot of blood. it might be broken."

her words have you groaning, tears welling up in your eyes.

"let me help you off the ice," william says. he's crouching down again so he can look into your eyes. all you can muster is a gentle nod, which makes william throw his free hand around your waist, helping you skate over to the exit with his jersey still held to your face.

the medical staff take notice of you two immediately, springing into action at the sight of your blood, taking you away from william and beginning their work.

by the time there putting a strip on your nose, the bleeding has mostly stopped. one of the medical personnel has put the cotton plugs up your nostrils, catching any lingering traces of bleeding. thankfully your nose isn't broken, just bruised and the next few days are to be expected with soreness and discolouration.

"how's it feel?" william joins you once again, still only wearing his shoulder and chest pad. you had been separated while the medical staff cleaned you up but now that they were done, he joined you once more.

"it's sore," you mumble. you don't even want to think how stupid you look with a bandaged nose and what you can also assume swollen face. "but i'll survive."

"you're so brave," his tone is teasing, sitting beside you gently. "i'm sorry."

"it's not your fault," you say, "it's nobody's fault."

he nods in agreement, "no but if I saw it coming I would've sacrificed my back to save your nose."

you giggle, which makes him smile. you wince at your face moving, fingers hovering over your nose. you sigh, "I can't believe i've been covered in another bodily fluid infront of the guy I like."

william just sighs gently. "don't worry about him right now."

"I can't help it," you groan. a beat passes, "everybody was definitely looking at me that time, huh."

william laughs in disbelief, "loser."

"yeah but i'm you're favourite loser," you lean in closer, bumping your side against his, "so you can't complain."

"you're right," he nods, "what would I do without you."

you laugh, "who knows."

the sound of zach calling out your name has your and willy's eye contact ending, your gaze now meeting your best friends as he approaches in a hurry. "are you okay, y/n?! I didn't even know you got hurt."

"i'm fine," you sigh, "just a little bloody."

"yeah," zach breathes, eyes darting down to you stained white coat and back, "I can see that."

then kappy comes up behind zach, a raise to his eyebrows as he takes in your face. he whistles lowly, "shit," he says, hands on his hips, "those black eyes are going to be knarly."

you don't take notice to the way williams jaw clenches.

"i'll look badass," you say.

kappy shrugs, "something like that."

zach covers his face in disbelief at your words, sending you a slight smile. "you're insane, y/n."

you just shrug. zach starts to talk with somebody on the medical team, assumingly grilling them with questions about your injury. kappy gets distracted by one of his teammates by the boards, walking off to join a conversation without another word.

you turn to willy, "can you get my boots?"

he just laughs gently, "yeah."

wasting no time in jogging to the bench where you both left your things, returning no less then two minutes later with your winter shoes in his hand. wordlessly, william leans down in front of you, fingers expertly untying your laces until their loose enough for him to slip off your skates.

your foot is tucked between his thighs while he tugs your boot on, patting the sides of your ankle once it was secure.

"thanks," you whisper, dropping your foot back to the ground.

your face starts to hurt a little more as time passes, and you can only dread how much it will ache when you wake up the following morning- already preparing the looks of shock from your co-workers.

william stands up from his crouched position. he's even taller on his skates as he looks down at you, a ghost of a smirk tugging his lips. he opens his mouth as if to say something but then he stops, pulling out his phone.

you fight the urge to scoff, about to tell him not to leave you hanging like that, but then he is pointing the phone at you, the click of the camera button alerting you to a photo being taken. "hey!" you say.

william laughs, observing the photo of you looking all pouty for a few more seconds before pocketing his phone.

"collecting future blackmail?" you ask with a laugh, an unimpressed raise to your brows.

"no." he shakes his head, "you just look cute."

oh.

you gulp.

"want to go home?" he asks you.

you shake your head slightly, clearing your throat. "yes."

william extends a hand to you, which you take immediately, letting him pull you to your feet. for the rest of the day you think about that damn picture and the reason it was taken.

you look cute.

—

a week passes before you see william again. the day after getting smacked in the nose with a hockey puck, zach and alanna kept you company at your apartment. you were jacked up on pain meds, which lead to a few loopy conversations with your two friends, most of them ending with you crying and feeling embarrassed in front of kappy - zach and his wife laughing awkwardly at your high state.

safe to say after your third venting session, you slept the rest of the day away - barley remembering the conversations you had (that is until zach calls you and laughs about it all: you hate him.)

liz visits you 4 days after the incident and you finally get a chance to talk to her about the idea of going out with william. she says maybe, and promises to think about it - which was a win as far as your concerned.

7 days after, william texts you and says he's growing bored without seeing your face, asking you for breakfast to talk about the kappy plans. you were already agreeing at the promise of a grilled cheese form your favourite cafe.

you pull open the heavy car door of williams vehicle, a bright smile on your face, cheeks rosy from the cold late february day. "hey."

"hi," william says, tossing his phone down as you take your seat. "you're healing nicely."

"I thought so" you agree. you are only left with the last stages of your black eyes, no marks or bruises on your nose anymore, barely tender when you touch it.

william puts the car in drive, pulling away from the curb and onto the busy toronto street. you grab the loose aux cord that was lying in the empty cup holder, immediately plugging it into your phone and queuing your favourite songs.

"so," willy starts, eyes darting over to your face quickly before they go back to the road, "there's something I want to talk about."

"you're making me a bit nervous," you admit, a light laugh emerging from your chest.

willy shakes his head, "no, nothing bad. it's just...," he takes a sigh, a beat passing, "I want you to be completely honest with me."

"always," you promise.

he takes another deep sigh, "what do you see in kappy?"

you blink hard at his question but stay silent.

"like I know he's my best friend," continues willy, "and I love him to death but he's not the most...loving person. he doesn't like relationships and he's not driven in that sense, like...at all. and if i'm being completely honest he's kind of a dick around you."

"what?" you whisper.

william looks empathetic, "he doesn't treat you the nicest way he could, don't you see that?"

you blink again because, no, you really haven't noticed anything bad when you're talking to kappy or anything odd when you're hanging around him. but then you think of the way that zach loves you, or the way andreas talks to you and how willy cares for you and kappy really doesn't stand out. you gulp, "I mean...he's maybe not the most affectionate but that doesn't mean he hates me-"

"no," william interrupts, "he doesn't hate you he just...doesn't treat you the way he should. and I don't want to upset you but I don't think you should continue pursuing him. i'm only saying this because you deserve better than my best friends shitty attitude."

you gulp.

"but with that being said - i'll still help you, y/n. if you still want him and you know kappy is what you want - i'll bud out. we will continue doing this," william looks over to you, "just tell me what you want."

you bite your lip, william's blue eye burning into yours before he has to look back to the road. you don't turn away though, eyes still studying his side profile. his sharp jaw and sloped nose, the way his earring shines in the sunlight.

you think about what he said, and all of it was true. you can see it now. you honestly don't know what to say. you would feel guilty if you had to tell william to stop, all of his time he spent helping you would be wasted. you're not sure you want to continue. that crush was much more fun when it was just a crush from afar, without the puke and the blood and the being left on the dance floor.

but it's working, you think. kappy and you feels different than it has in the past. with william around to help, something was changing.

"I want to keep doing this," you decide.

william just nods. "then we will keep doing it."

the tense moment is cut when the song changes, the familiar chords of ABBA flowing through the speakers quietly. william just smirks, bopping his head along to the beat until your smiling gently.

just as the chorus starts, william hits the steering wheel like a drum, turning briefly to you, "look into his angel eyes, one look and you're hypnotized!" he sings loudly.

your mouth hangs open in shock, a few laughs bubbling up your throat at his performance.

"he'll take your heart and you must pay the price - look into his angel eyes - "

you join in, "you'll think you're in paradise !"

you're both laughing for the entire song, belting the lyrics to one another as you cruise through the city. the song finishes and a new one starts, both of you breathless and smiling.

a beat passes, "thank you willy."

his smile flatters slightly and he swallows, "you don't have to thank me."

you just nod.

the gps alerts you both that you're only 3 minutes away from the eatery, directions telling william to get into the left lane as you approach the stop light.

your phone dings in your lap, pulling your gaze away from where you were still staring at william's side profile.

liz

i thought about it and i think i want to do it. i'll go out with william.

your face falls slightly. despite your unknown disappointment, you text back with as much enthusiasm you can rely through your phone.

y/n

oh okay !

y/n

want me to give you his number

y/n

i'm with him rn

liz

actually i was thinking we could maybe do a double date?youve been getting closer to kasperi, right? i dont know willy that well and you guys are friends! so i think it would be better that way

y/n

yeah

y/n

that sounds good

y/n

i'll let willy know

y/n

and he can let kappy know

y/n

okay 🥰

liz

kk let me know.

love u

willy is just parking against the curb in front of the cafe as you send your last text to liz. once the car is off, you turn towards him with a grin.

he laughs, "yes?"

"guess what I just got you."

williams brows furrow, "what?"

"a date with liz!," william tries to keep his smile on his face. "well, a double date. how does that new Teppanyaki place sound? you, liz, kappy and me?"

william blinks and nods, "umm, yeah. sounds good."

"okay," you mutter, "should I text kappy and ask or should you?"

"I can," william says, "it's easier to convince him when i'm able to guilt trip him."

you nod, "alright. it will be fun I think."

your stomach growls and that has the conversation ending, both of you heading in for a meal, setting plans in stone for the upcoming double date.

—

"are you excited?" your tone is hopeful as you look over to your left, hands gripping the steering wheel as you navigated the city.

you can see liz nod once before you have to look back to the street. she rubs her lips together, "i'm sure it will be good."

"you don't sound excited," you laugh awkwardly. out of the corner of your eye you can see her shoulders deflate. "you sound uninterested."

"I promise i'm interested," liz says, "it's just," she stops herself, eyes darting over to you. she watches the way you knaw on your lip, eyebrows pulled together in thought. "it's nothing. first date jitters I suppose."

you're still not to convinced, flicking on your turn signal. "okay."

liz clears her throat, "anything I should know about willy before we get there?"

you hum. "what do you mean?"

"like, I don't know," liz laughs, "what's his favourite food? or favourite movie? what's his favourite colour? something I can causally bring up so he knows i'm paying attention."

you swallow and take a sharp breath. "oh, umm," you laugh, "well his favourite movie is tinkerbell."

"really?"

you laugh again, "well, no. he says he doesn't have a favourite movie. I told him mine was tinkerbell and therefore I was going to tell people it was his too," you take a pause, "his favourite food is steak, but he's also big into any breakfast food. oh and he likes the colour purple."

liz is staring at you with an amused smile.

you continue, "you don't have to feel nervous, liz. willy is....the best."

"y/n.." liz wants to say something, you can tell by the tone of her voice. it has you laughing, pulling the car over as you reach the restaurant.

"looks like we are here!" thankfully, you snag a parking spot right infront of the Teppanyaki style restaurant, switching the car off once you park.

"willy said we can just walk in, there's no reservation or anything."

"alright," liz nods, following suit and unbuckling her seatbelt.

"dude, why do you look so nervous?" kappy's voice has william looking away form the door, the leg that was previously bouncing under the table top coming to a halt.

"i'm not nervous," william argues, "i'm just...aren't you nervous? this is a date."

kappy just shrugs adjacent to him, "it's just y/n...we're friends. why would I be nervous."

william's jaw ticks, "it's not just - "

"hey!" the sound of your bright voice as william stopping, turning around his in chair to see you and liz walking towards them.

william stands, "hey," he swallows as he takes you in, the nerves he was definitely feeling earlier are still there, butterflies fighting in the lining of his stomach. "how are you guys?"

"good," you smile. liz agrees, her smile just as bright and flattering as yours, but william doesn't notice it.

"saved you a spot, y/n/n," the voice of kappy has willy exhaling, blinking hard as your eyes widen at the finnish accent.

you squeeze the blondes shoulder as you sneak past him, taking the empty stool beside kappy. you watch the way william smiles at liz, bringing her into a friendly hug. suddenly your stomach turns and you have to look away as they chat. eventually they sit down, liz on the corner beside you and william next to her.

"you look nice," kappy's words are gentle on your side, two fingers picking a piece of your hair and dropping it over your shoulder. "who's got you all dressed up like this?"

you shrug, "oh I don't know," his smirk has you laughing gently, "why? do you think I should dress like this more often?"

his eyes dart down to your top, that familiar shade of red adorning your chest. "red's my favourite colour." kappy smirks.

"really?" you fane innocence.

william clears his throat loudly and it has your eyes darting over to find his but you're only met with his face in the menu, not even a glance in your direction. you frown gently at that.

liz nudges you, eyes quickly meeting yours. "what are you going to get?"

"I don't know," you admit, picking up the menu infront of you. all of you are silent for a few minutes, reading over the menu trying to ignore the unreadable tension that looms around the four of you.

the flames in front of you ignite, the warmth of the fire has you moving back - snapping you out of your own mind bubble. you wouldn't be surprised if -

"oh my god," liz whispers.

"what?" you ask quickly, dropping your menu.

her eyes are on you, an expression on her face that has your stomach plummeting. "that totally singed your brows."

you eyes widen, "what?"

kappy laughs as you pull out your phone, the cell acting as a mirror as you look over your face. you're met with your brows, very much looking crispy. you whine, brushing away any loose hairs.

"are you hurt?" william asks.

"no," you say. you're thankful you filled your brows in, any areas of natural brow hairs that may be now be splotchy, are coating in a thick pomade. "i'm okay."

"honestly, you can't really tell now that the singed hairs are gone." liz's tone is hopeful and it has you nodding, pocketing your phone.

the cook at your table finally makes his way to your groups corner, platting up the mouth watering range of food.

"are you sure you're okay?" william asks you again and you nod harshly.

"i'm fine." you meet his worried expression and immediately regret your tone of voice. he doesn't look away. "I promise."

then you all start eating, small talk and laughter bounces between all of you. kappy's hand keeps grazing your arm, which in theory means he's flirting with you, which is why you are surprised when your body doesn't react. in fact, you almost feel nothing at the way his fingers tickle your skin.

liz gives you a subtle wink when she notices the way kappy's arm dangles across the back of your chair so you force a smile. but then you meet williams eyes, and your smile falls. he looks away, back towards kappy and their conversation.

a phone buzzes and it has you looking over just as kappy's phone is lit up, an array of notifications flood his lock screen, but the top one catches your attention.

lacy

wanna come over ?

you blink, looking away. kappy grabs it quick, wordlessly typing out his response with a small smirk - but you catch it.

suddenly you feel icky, and once again you feel like you're standing alone out on a dance floor. tears are gathering in your waterline, you can feel them as they brim and it has you clearing your throat softy. you reach out for your cup of water, but you go in too fast and way too quickly, smacking the side of cup so that all its contents spill out, covering your lap.

your sudden stand as william and liz stopping their conversation, worried eyes finding you standing with a soaked pair of pants.

"sorry," you don't even know who are are apologizing to, hurriedly grabbing a napkin and trying to soak up the liquid from your jeans.

a few tears roll down your cheeks and you don't dare look up, still rubbing furiously at your pants. "sorry, i'm just," then as if you can feel them, you look up and meet williams eyes, swimming with what could only be pity for you - being clumsy again and running your chances with kappy. "i'm going to go to the bathroom," you finally mumble, speeding away from the table and through the busy restaurant.

you round the corner of the bathroom hallway, and once you're out of eye sight you break down - not even making it into the actual bathroom before you're crying, covering your face. you feel so embarrassed. why is it, you think, anytime you're progressing with kappy something has to go wrong.

even worse, when he's giving you attention you don't feel anything anymore. what is wrong with you?

quick footsteps have you looking up. william comes to a halt, stopping right in front of you.

you sniff, "sorry, do you need to use the bathroom?" you side step him, moving over so he could push open the door.

but he doesn't move. "no," willy shakes his head, "I came to make sure you were okay."

"oh," you mumble.

"are you? okay?"

you feel a fresh roll of new tears fall down your cheeks and you don't even want to think how much of a mess you look. "no."

"c'mon," william whispers, nodding towards the bathroom door. you follow him wordlessly into the single use bathroom, letting him lock the door behind you both.

the bathroom is rather spacious, but it was a fancy restaurant, so you're not sure what else you would expect. it was painted a warm colour, a long granite counter top with a sink and fancy soaps. a bidet toilet, which if you weren't so miserable would've had you giggling, always finding the idea funny. the bathroom was darker than a normal bathroom, it was actually really relaxing.

"i'll dry your pants." william's words have you snapping out of your thoughts. he's standing by the hand dryer patiently.

you give him a gentle nod. without thinking much of it, you unbutton your jeans, wiggling out of the wet denim until they hit the floor around your ankles. you don't even feel embarrassed as you stand in your zebra print underwear. you had already taken your shoes off before your pants, leaving you to walk bare foot towards willy, your wet jeans in your grip.

he doesn't say anything, eyes burning into yours when he takes the pants.

the hum of hand dryer starts moments after, the quiet ambiance of the bathroom filled with the loud wind. you wipe your face before lifting yourself to sit on the counter top. the cold temperature of the surface has your bare legs shivering, but you don't show it, quietly watching william as he dries your clothes.

5 minutes later the dryer stops. "thankfully they weren't too soaked, would've taken longer to dry." willy says, walking towards you with your very much dry jeans.

"thanks," you say with a sad smile, taking the pants from his hands. "i've ruined your date."

your statement has william frowning, "you did not ruin my date. you could never ruin anything for me."

"but i've embarrassed you - and myself!," you head falls back against the mirror, "my fucking eyebrows are burnt, i spilt water on my crotch so it looked like i pissed myself - and kappy isn't even interested...he was texting lacy," you look down, "and I don't even care about that honestly, i'm just...feeling defeated. I can't believe I was stupid enough to think this would work. I probably look ridiculous."

william's jaw clenched. he steps into your personal space, his jordan's now visible in your sight. it has you looking up gently, meeting his face only mere inches from yours. "you look beautiful."

you gulp. willy's thick thighs bump against your bare knee caps and it has your legs separating more than they had been, welcoming his body between them.

willy's eyes dance over your face before he gently grabs your cheeks, keeping you in place as you tilt up to look at him. "I hate hearing you talk badly about yourself."

all you can muster is a gentle nod, your cheeks rubbing against his palms at the movement. his thumb brushes against your cheek bone and it has you taking a shaky breath, one of your hands reaching up the rest on his chest.

just when you think he may lean in, there's a knock on the door, bursting the two out of your bubble. william jumps back as you slip off the counter, pulling your jeans on.

"you guys okay?" liz's voice is muffled through the door.

you brush past willy, pulling open the door to meet you worried friends expression.

"we are fine. william was just drying my jeans for me. thanks again."

he just nods breathlessly.

"are you sure you're okay?' liz asks you and you push a smile.

"yeah, but I think I want to head home," you clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. "I can give you some money, william, for my portion of the bill."

"no," he says quickly, "don't. it's on kappy and I."

you don't respond. "liz, are you going to come back with me?"

"absolutely," she says. and then you leave the bathroom, bidding goodbye to kappy before you and liz leave, driving silently while you drown in your own head, the events of the night whirling in a pool inside your brain.

20 minutes later you pull up outside liz's apartment.

the blond unbuckled her seatbelt but she doesn't open the door, only turns fully towards you with a sad expression. "i'm sorry about tonight."

you shrug, "nothing to be sorry about."

after a beat of silence, liz sighs, pulling on the handle of the door until it opens. "he's like totally into you, you know that, right?"

"he was literally answering another girl beside me, liz."

she furrows her brows. "what? no, not kappy." liz sighs, "willy."

"what? no. we are just good friends."

she laughs like she doesn't believe you, "seriously? i'm not buying that."

shocked, you huff, "well buy it. if he liked me why on gods green earth would he offer to help me get with his best friend?"

a moment passed, "y/n, he probably just wanted to spend more time with you."

you gulp and don't say anything. you feel like you could cry again.

"it's okay," liz says, "I was never really into him and if i'm being honest, I only agreed to go on this double date so you'd be happy. i'm sorry."

you sniffle, "don't be sorry. it's okay."

she just smiles softly, "okay," a beat passes, "and I think you might like him too."

and then she leaves.

1:58 a.m.

willy 💙

im sorry if i made you uncomfortable. it's the last thing i want to do

y/n

you didn't

y/n

i'm sorry too

willy 💙

what are you sorry for?

y/n

if i made it awkward

y/n

i feel like it got really tense in the bathroom

willy 💙

tense?

y/n

yeah

y/n

i was just really upset and i felt unwanted

y/n

i shouldn't of touched you like that

y/n

and i should've kept my pants on lol

y/n

let's just forget it happened

willy 💙

you want to forget it happened?

y/n

yes

willy 💙

okay.

—

not once had you forgotten about your conversation with liz since the double date. not a minute goes by without being reminded of what happened - or almost happened- in the bathroom with willy.

there was no way william liked you. you had thought over every interaction you two had had, and you can't see a reason why he would think of you of anything more than a friend. and he was a great friend, you loved the swede for it. he cared for you and was patient with you and he was your number one wing man. just like he promised he would that night when he came up with the plan, he has helped you with kapseri kapanen.

kappy had texted you a week and two days after the date, talking about the leafs charity gala and how he wants you to go with him.

you respond enthusiastically, accepting his invitation. even if you weren't ending up with kappy as your date, you're positive you would've been some other leafs date - just like usual. when zach brought it up three days after kappy asked you, you told him about kappy and zach had been happy for you: the plan was working. but you didn't feel happy, you felt sort of empty.

you hadn't texted, spoken to or met with willy since he texted you late after the double date. the conversation ended with a pit laying heavy in your stomach, sleep not coming easy thinking of his response.

you've embarrassed him, you think. you have truly pushed it with all this kappy stuff and you've embarrassed yourself and him. so you don't reach out, and he doesn't either, leaving you feeling nothing short of heartbroken.

the leafs gala raising money for cancer research was only a week away. you panic texted zach and alanna that you had nothing to wear and begged for them to join you and help you pick a dress suitable for the event.

so that next afternoon you and alanna browsed through the colourful racks of some expensive dress shop, the blond pulling out options she deemed suitable and passing them to the sales clerk, who adds them to your growing dressing room.

zach isn't close, currently scrolling his phone as he lounges on one of those boyfriend designated couches. you make sure he isn't in earshot and then you turn towards alanna, "remember last week when liz and I went on a double date with kappy and willy?"

she laughs lightly, "yes i remember."

"well, something happened."

alanna gives you an suspicious glance, passing a ruffled red dress to the clerk, "what?"

you clear your throat, "after i spilt my water on myself, and willy helped me dry them, we umm, I think we almost kissed."

her eyes goes wide, "you and willy?"

you sigh, fingers playing with the silky material of a lilac dress, "yeah and i'm pretty sure i freaked him out and put him in an awkward situation and...i feel like i fucked it all up."

"i'm sorry," she pulls you into her side, "have you talked to him?"

"not since we texted that night. I said we can forget about the whole situation and he just said okay. it just felt tense and i kind of miss him."

"I think maybe you should reach out," alanna says gently, "tell him how you feel." her eyes dart behind you, and her smile flatters. "or you could tell him now." her words are whispered out the side of her mouth.

"what?" you whisper, spinning around. you see william walking into the dress shop, a gentle smile on his face as zach greets him. "how is he here?"

"hey guys!" zach calls out, "I invited willy to help."

"great!" alanna calls back. you and william send each other a tight lipped smile, the two boys making their way over to you and alanna. zach seems to be oblivious to the tension, smiling as they approach.

"need any more help picking out options? willy and I are the best dressers I know."

you grab the purple dress you had been previously fiddling with, "no, actually, i've just chosen my last one."

the sales clerk rushes over and takes it from you.

"okay," zach smiles, "well let's start this fashion show!" he claps his hands.

"zach, maybe - " alanna starts but zach is already walking away, willy following in his steps, hands shoved awkwardly into his puffer coat.

you don't look at willy before entering the dressing room, pulling the curtain closed so even if he wanted to say anything, he wouldn't have the chance. not that you wanted to shun him, you just didn't want to face the embarrassment.

you slip on a green dress, you don't love it but alanna does, vocalizing her feelings as soon as you draw back the curtain. "i do love it but i think courtney is wearing that colour."

you just nod, stepping back into the room to try something different. your next option is the red one, with a big skirt that is way to prom-like for the gala, but you pull back to curtain anyways.

"it's cute!" alanna exclaims, but her face is hesitant.

zach must agree because he winces, "it's a bit...out there."

you spin in the mirror, observing the back.

"I like the colour," she continues, "what do you think?"

you hum, "I feel like i'm going to prom."

zach laughs, throwing his head back. "I wasn't going to say it."

"red isn't your colour," william interrupted.

oh.

all you can muster is quick nod, walking back into your changing room. changing out of the puffy dress quickly before slipping into the silk material of a different one.

when you head back into the main area, you're only met with the bright eyes of william, zach and alanna nowhere in sight.

"where'd they go?" you ask, eyes looking down at your feet as you make your way infront of the mirrors.

william shakes his head slightly, "they went off back into the retail section."

you just hum, observing yourself and the dress. it was absolutely stunning. for only grabbing it as a distraction, it was the most perfect dress you'd ever worn. the light purple shade complemented you skin wonderfully. the silk wrapped up around one shoulder, giving a unique shape - but the dress was still appropriate enough for the event. you knew it was the one.

"you look amazing," williams words are pretty much a whisper. you met his eyes through the mirror and he's looking at you so gently it has your stomach flipping.

"thank you," you say just as gently. you spin around to face him. in a moment of boldness you step of the slightly raised pedestal, walking until you are standing right in front of him. "why did you come?"

"zach asked me to."

you huff, "yeah but why did you agree?"

his brows pull together, "why are you annoyed?"

"i'm just asking, willy. why are you here?"

he stands, "that's a great question, actually. why am i here?" you swallow but don't speak, willy continues, "I don't really know what I did for you to brush me off  this past week but you could of at least talked to me about it."

you scoff, "i'm sorry but i'm not the only one to blame for our lack of communication, william. i'm just trying to make you comfortable! i told you we can forget about it and move on but clearly that's not enough. you're also stopping communication from me."

"you're not even making sense," willy huffs. "I backed off for you!"

"backed off? why on earth would you even need to back off?"

his adam apple bobs in his throat, eyes reaching yours frantically as if to try and analyze what you were feeling. "the reason why we're even in this situation is because of kappy," willy breathes, "that's what this is. an exchange of a stupid promise to help you get kappy."

"a stupid promise? are you seriously saying this to me. it's not just about - "

willy interrupts with a sarcastic chuckle, "and look at you right now. trying on fucking dresses for a gala that he invited you to. so it worked, you got kappy. we can stop this now."

you fight the urge to cry, anger and disappointment bubbling deep in your chest. "I don't want - "

he stops you, "to answer your question, I don't know why i'm here so i'll just leave. i'll see you at the gala."

willy turns on his heels, grabbing his discarded coat from the couch. just before he leaves the area he looks at you again, his tone bitter "you should get the red...it is his favourite colour after all."

and then he leaves you by yourself.

you frown, wiping at your eyes before any tears have a chance to fall.

—

you decide to meet kappy at the scotiabank arena. it gives you time to collect your thoughts before seeing willy again, which you very much needed.

you get ready in silence, emotionless as you curl your hair and apply your makeup. slipping into the silk purple dress and nude heels.

the mid march air is still chilly, prompting you to grab your nicest jacket before leaving your place and making the familiar drive to the leafs arena.

kappy meets you in the sporting garage, complementing you nicely and guiding you with a hand on your lower back as you both made your way into the event. you smiled brightly for photos, laughing with zach and posing with kappy.

the gala is so beautiful. the usual hockey ice covered with a beautiful flooring, the arena decorated appropriately with tables and chairs all around, sponsors, coaches, staff and players all in attendance. for what it was worth, you were having a good time.

"alright," you huff, placing down your vodka cranberry and pushing up off the table, "it's time to dance."

kappy groans, laughing when he throws his head back.

"I wouldn't argue," zach laughs but there's a heavy underlay to his words. it works though, kappy joining you to stand and guiding you into the dance floor around his teammates and coaching staff alike.

a slow taylor swift song was dripping through the speakers, her gentle voice soothing you as kappy grabs your waist, your arms filling suit as the move up towards his shoulders, loosely resting around his neck.

the two of you move slowly, swaying to the music. "i'm surprised that you didn't come with willy."

you try not to scoff. "well, you are the one who asked me."

kappy's eyebrows draw together, "only because he told me that he wasn't going to ask you."

you mimick his confused expression.

kappy continues, "he was the one who told me to reach out and ask you. I like you, y/n and you're a great friend and i mean no offence when I say i probably wouldn't have asked you if he didn't mention anything."

"oh," you hum. his words don't bother you as much as they once would have, "no offence taken. you're a great friend, kappy. i'm sorry anytime we hang out something embarrassing happens."

he laughs at that, "I don't mind. after all willy was always there to save the day - nothing embarrassing about that."

all you can do is nod. in that moment you think of what kappy just said, and you realize even if you and willy hadn't fought and the kappy plan was still in motion - it wouldn't go anywhere. kappy saw you as a friend, and for the first time in awhile that didn't stab a dagger through your heart. if anything, you felt relived. you think kappy and you are better off as friends and that has you laughing.

"what's so funny?" the finnish native inquires.

"nothing really," you mumble, "just - "

you stop yourself, stomach falling to the floor. you watch as willy dances with a girl, both laughing and swaying to the music only mere feet from you.

"ah shit," kappy mumbles.

you won't let yourself get upset, you think. so you look away harshly, back into kappy's eyes. he can tell your smile is forced, but he doesn't mention anything - your eyes say enough. "i'm fine."

it's not long after you initially spot him, you find william again. your eyes meet across the dance floor and almost simultaneously both of your smiles drop. but before he can blink, you're looking away. willy is only left watching your purple dress move aorund your ankles.

a few hours later you exit the bathroom, eyes downcast as you fiddle with your bengals covering your wrist. you come to a stop as you brush somebodies chest, dragging your eyes up until you're looking into a familiar shade of blue.

"sorry," you mumble, side stepping his path.

william grabs your arm, stopping you from walking away. "you're wearing purple."

you don't let your emotions come through, only shrugging. "it was the best dress." you look at him harshly, "you asked kappy to take me tonight?"

william just sighs at your question, shoulders deflating.

"not only that, but you had to lie in order for him to ask me. why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to upset you."

"out of everything you've said to me in the past two weeks, that would've been the nicest possible thing."

he sighs sadly again. "I didn't want it to hurt you," willy's voice is strained, hands held out in your direction like he was approaching a scared kitten.

"then maybe you should've asked me instead."

he looks taken back but you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed at your confession. you were done hiding these emotions and feeling embarrassed for being yourself.

"y/n...I need to - "

"william?" a feminine voice calls down the hallway, heels clicking as the same woman he was dancing with approaches you both, a sweet smile on her face. "sorry to interrupt." she says.

you laugh, "no it's okay, he's all yours."

you push past, shoulder bumping into his as you leave, walking away from william with your heart breaking along the way.

—

march 17th 10:43 a.m.

willy 💙

i'm sorry. i fucked up

and i hate fighting with you

willy 💙

you don't have to respond

but i needed to apologize

—

april 17th

you meet up with zach and tell him about you're feelings for william. you start with the family skate and vent about the bathroom, the fight at the dress store and the conversation at the gala. zach holds you while you cry.

playoffs are cut short once again for the leafs and it puts an ever bigger damper on willy's mood. everyday he wakes up and see if you've responded to his texts, only to be met with read.

—

may 17th

you go out with the team for drinks. now that the seasons over, they can let loose a bit more than they typically would. you dance with steph all night, avoiding willy at all costs.

you get so drunk that zach has to take you home early.

willy can't keep his eyes off you, even when he's pulled into a conversation, he always ends up watching you. he regrets not going up to you.

willy goes home alone.

—

june 17th

you still haven't responded to williams messages and you haven't seen him in person for longer than a fleeting second. you think about him every day.

willy thinks about reaching out again, but he doesn't want to push. he also thinks about watching tinkerbell, but he decides against it. he thinks about you every day.

—

july 17th

you go on a date with a new guy from work. the whole time you think of blonde hair and blue eyes. you don't see him again.

kappy tries to set willy up with one of his friends, but he declines.

—

august 17th

you almost reach out to willy - you are tired of pretending you're over him.

willy visits the cafe where the two of you first discussed your plans, ordering the same cheesy croissant sandwich. he almost sends you a picture of the food. he misses you.

kapseri kapanen gets traded to the pittsburg penguins.

—

august 20th

3:13a.m.

y/n

in swijdiu

y/n

sorreyu

y/n

sorry

y/n

i'm a litytle drunbk

y/n

i miass youu do musch willy

y/n

si shouydve repsonde when u txted me in apriul

y/n

i wabnt u

y/n

my swo sorry

the next morning you wake up with a pounding head, vision blurry when you try and look around. miracles must exist, you think, because even in your drunk state you had taken off your makeup and changed out of your bar clothes.

you groan, pulling back your covers so you can stumble to the bathroom. you pop some ibuprofen and turn on the shower, the steam warming the room and soothing your aches and pains.

you don't remember a thing from the night before, your drunk escapades with steph and sydney falling short, your memories blurry. all you can be happy about is that you actually made it home in one piece.

the shower has made you feel 100 times better, enabling you to successfully dress yourself and make something to eat without wanting to crawl back into bed and just rot away.

mid way through dishes a knock sounds at your door. you hadn't even checked your phone all morning, expecting it to be one of the girls to be stopping by. you stop cleaning, pulling open your front door.

willy stands there, eyes wide as he takes you in. "I texted you."

you gasp slightly, eyes blown wide as you take him in. your face falls, thinking about his texts back from april that you left on read. "i know."

he sighs gently, running a hand through his messy hair. "you never answered." he looks at you sadly.

"i know..." you sigh. you think about the last time you and him talked, the way you walked away from him and that girl at the gala.  "who was that girl at the gala." you're knawing at your lip as you await his answer.

"some random girl auston knows...I haven't even talked to her since then." you don't say anything so he speaks again, "I messaged you this morning."

you frown at his confession, "why?"

"you texted me first." he says quickly.

flashes of your night pass by then. you vaguely remember crying about the swede to your two friends, crying even harder as you texted on your phone.

your face pales. "I was really drunk. I don't know what I said but i'm sorry - "

he takes a step forward, entering your apartment and shutting the door behind him. you let him in your space wordlessly, neck tilted back so you can look up at him.

willy takes a deep breath, "I fucked up, y/n. I shouldn't have been so mean to you and there's no excuse for the way I acted. I regret the conversation we had at the dress shop and the one at the gala - i haven't stopped thinking about them in months."

"no, willy, I shouldn't of been so cold towards you. I should've talked to you -"

"don't even apologize. it was my fault, I..," he pauses, taking a deep breath, "I was angry because I didn't want to forget about what happened in the bathroom. I wasn't even angry you - i was angry with myself for not telling you how I was feeling."

"what are you saying?" your whisper holds a little hope, arms dropping limp at your sides as you take in the man before you.

"i love you," william breaths a laugh, "i love that you never text in paragraphs and separate sentences that dont need to be. i love that you're scared of vomit, and i love it when you get hangry and i love it even more when you take enormous bites and get food all over yourself.

I love how beautiful you are, how smart you are, how brave you are and how confident you are. I love how much you care about me and even when it was about kappy you were always thinking of me, finding comfort in me, listening to me."

"willy..." you words hold disbelief.

"i'm not done," he says gently, "nothing about you ever needed to change - especially for some guy who honestly, didn't give you the time of day you deserve. I love you for you! you're clingy and like the tinkerbell movie and wear animal print underwear. I love everything that makes you you, and anytime you would change yourself for kappy I wanted to tell you all this - but I didn't because I wanted to make you happy. and he made you happy...so i budded out."

your eyes fill with tears. mouth opening and closing like a fish while you take in his confession.

"i've been in love with you this whole time, y/n, I would do anything for you. so that's why I helped you with kappy, not because I wanted you to be with him but because I wanted to see you happy."

his final confession as you melting because the guy you fell in love with - the guy you pushed yourself away from in fear of not being loved back - has been in love with you since before you even knew it.

"do you mean it?"

he laughs awkwardly, moving towards you until he can touch you. william holds your face, looking down at you the way he always does. "I do."

"promise me."

he shakes his head in amused disbelief, "I promise." his thumbs wipe away at your tears, gently stroking your skin.

you push up on your toes, hands sliding up williams chest until they reach his neck, interlocking fingers behind his head for leverage as you bring your lips to his.

kissing william was nothing short of perfect. his lips were gentle with you, slotting between yours like a perfect puzzle. you two mold together like you've done it before: the kiss came easy. you moan into his mouth when he sucks on your bottom lip.

you drop back to the heels of your feet, willy's lips chasing yours as you move.

you're smiling when you pull away, both of you breathing deeply as you regain composure. william laughs gently, his breath tickling your nose and it has you smiling wider.

"I love you so much," you finally say. although willy wasn't expecting a confession back, he was relived to hear one from you, shoulders deflating with a happy sigh. "willy, I stopped liking kappy after the bar. I just didn't realize it until it was too late. I'm sorry for not talking to you about how I was feeling.

i'm even more sorry for putting you through plans that involved me trying to get with your best friend. i'm also sorry for not kissing you in the bathroom because...I really wanted to."

he just laughs, shaking his forehead against yours, "it's okay - you're kissing me now."

you smirk, "yeah," you push back up and nudge your nose against his perfectly sloped one, "and i'm going to do it again."

—

February 2021

william chuckles awkwardly, a blush creeping up his muscled chest. "well, actually...we're sort of dating."

willy expects kappy to be shocked, maybe react loudly and laugh in disbelief but he doesn't. his friend just smirks at him across the table, brows raised as if urging willy to continue.

"no. not sort of, actually. i'm in love with her and she's in love with me and we've been dating since august."

"so you finally grew a pair and asked her out?" kappy teases.

william just laughs, "well, she kind of asked me. I just word vomited a love confession at her and she took control and...well, now we are here."

"I knew you liked her." kappy says after a moment of silence, the same teasing smirk still on his face.

"how?"

"that picture of her with the busted up nose has been your home screen since you took it."

damn, willy thinks, kappy has him there.

the conversation continues between them, sharing laughs and catching up over their dinner until they need to part ways. they would see each other tomorrow when the penguins hit the ice to play the leafs, so their goodbye isn't all too bad.

willy arrives home just after 9, stomach full with a smile on his face. his two dogs rush to his aid, jumping up against his legs in search of affection and kisses from their dad.

"hey," the sound of your voice as willy looking up just as your round the corner, clad in sweats and your glasses. "how was dinner?"

he pulls you into his side, "was good," his words are mumbled against your lips, willy bringing you into a toe - curling kiss that had your stomach doing flips.

"i missed you when you were gone," you giggle.

he raises a brow at you, dogs now sitting peacefully at both your feet. "you promise?"

you throw you head back with a laugh at his question, the position giving willy free access to attack your neck in kisses. "I promise."

⌞══════════════════⌝

playlist

- complete mess by 5 seconds of summer

- tequila by dan + shay

- iris by the goo goo dolls

- imperfect for you by ariana grande

- daylight by harry styles

- invisible string by taylor swift

- angel eyes by abba

- yours by conan gray

- all I wanted by paramore

- I really like you by carly rae jepson

- sweet nothing by taylor swift

[just-some-random-blogger]

He Tells Me

Masterlist

You've fallen into psychological stalemate with a man who does things for you without needing to be asked, and neither of you want to give up the last say.

Joel Miller x Reader | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, fluff, overgiver!joel & yn, ellie 'JUST FUCKING KISS ALREADY' williams, typos, etc.

A/N: ive fallen into this song again. ITS SO JOEL CODED

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @multifandom-fangirl4

▶ ♪ Play touch tank by quinnie ♪ ◀

I love you isn't always I and Love and You; it isn't always the words that tumble out of your mouth or the lump that's stuck in your throat.

I love you isn't always a kiss and a hug; it isn't always the way lips brush against skin or chests press against chests.

Sometimes it's good mornings. Good morning, I love you. Did you sleep well, I love you. Have you eaten, I love you.

I love you, I did the dishes.

I love you, I fixed your faulty light.

Hey, let me carry that for you.

This reminded me of you, here.

I think you'd like this.

I love you.

But somehow, those I love yous read to you as you owe mes, and now, you were paying back every bit of your debt with blood, sweet, and a burnt hand.

Ellie opens the door and smiles, immediately calling your name and pulling you into a side hug. You lean into her embrace as much as the steaming casserole in your hand will allow you.

"You made it just in time for dinner!" she says, pushing you in with her.

You chuckle, "oh, Elle-machine. I'm just here to drop this off and-"

"Don't be silly," a voice cuts you off. Joel comes down from the stairs, barely glancing your way as he overtakes you both, heading for the kitchen. Still, you notice his faint smile and a shot of electricity ripples down your spine, a swell of warmth crawls up your ears.

Joel walks off, grunting as he did, "you're staying for dinner. End of story."

Ellie watches you be rendered frozen in your spot. She does not hide her grin, "he just called you silly."

You turn to her, finding the pot in your hand was feeling heavier, "... he did."

You and Ellie make it to the dining table and you set the food you prepared on a table next to the other dishes.

"Wow," you mutter, "roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and a salad," you look up at Joel, who was walking over with another pot. He sets the pot down as you turn to Ellie, "is it your birthday or something?"

"No," Ellie sit down with a smile, "Joel just knows I'm a growing child who needs her food."

You bring a hand to your mouth to hold in your giggles. Joel catches this and furrows his brows.

"Consider me jealous, honey," you tease her.

"Well, you could always move in with us," Ellie props her elbows on the table.

Before you can reply, Joel takes your hand, making both you and Ellie turn to him. Your heart pounds. His expression hardens as he takes in the cloth wrapped around your palms, "what happened to your hand?"

You watch him examine your hand a second too long. Joel looks back at out, ripping a response from your lips, "I- uh- the... the casserole."

Joel raises his brows, "you burnt your hand cooking?"

The worry in his brown eyes ate away at your heart. You clench your jaw, unwilling to admit you were a useless and bad cook, "... no."

Joel thinks back to the contents of the first aid kit in the compound.

"I- I was doing something with the pot and then I-"

"I think Tommy has burn ointment somewhere," Joel trails off, immediately releasing my hand and marching off.

Your stomach drops. You immediately catch his arm, "wait!"

Joel stops in his tracks, looking back at you.

"It's not a big deal!" you say through an airy chuckle, "I put it under running water for a while. I just put a wrap because it hurts when I-"

His hand, warm and gentle, coming atop yours cuts you off. Joel shifts in his spot; your ears perk, as they were sensitive to the sound of his boots. He gives you a look, a kind one, a patient one, a tender one, "it isn't a big deal. I'll be back in two seconds."

The moment Joel walks off, Ellie pipes up, "you should just take a seat. You know you can't argue with him. Well, I mean you can but that normally doesn't end up well." She pats on the empty chair beside her, "want to hear about what I did in school today instead?"

You release a soft breath and smile, "of course, darling."

When Joel came back, he announced there was no burn ointment, but he did find an ice pack. The only problem now, there was no ice. And so as the three of you began to eat, he explained he'd fix the broken ice cream freezer in the warehouse and make ice for you tomorrow. To which you said-

"You really don't have to," you shake your head, suddenly too embarrassed to get anymore food than you already had on your plate. You had one scoop of mashed potatoes.

Joel moves the bowl of mash closer to you then takes off the lid of one pot, "I meant to do it anyway. They found spare parts for it. Now I have a reason," he turns to you, "have some pasta. I made it for you."

Your eyes land on the pot. You begin to feel a nasty little feeling claw up your nape at the thought of Joel going out of his way for you. I mean, you made the casserole to repay him for helping you do your laundry, and if it wasn't bad enough that he saw your underwear, he made you food, one of your favorites. You offer Joel a smile, "thank you, Joel."

He reaches out to your for your plate. You hand it to him wordlessly. He mutters, "you're welcome, sweetheart."

Your lips part. He's never called you that before, only Ellie.

He stills the moment he has your plate in hand, "I- I mean-"

"NAH," Ellie cuts as she rips off a chicken leg, "you called her sweetheart. No take backsies."

Joel clears his throat as he puts pasta on your plate.

When you all finished eating, not a lick was left on your plates. You obviously insisted on washing the dishes and Joel countered you wouldn't be because you were a guest. The back and forth became so insufferable Ellie stepped up and volunteered, insisting instead that Joel walk you back home. You had no means to insist your way out of that.

And so you waited by the front door for Joel to get his jacket from the second floor. When he got it, the two of you headed out, walking quite leisurely.

"You know," you shove your hands in your pockets. You couldn't help it, "my house is literally, like, two steps away from here. You don't have to walk-"

Joel draping his jacket around your shoulders silence you. He pulls the thing by the collar, making sure it was snug on you, "yeah. All the more reason to walk you, since it's so close."

You watch him pull his pants up as he looks around. He offers, "but if it's a challenge you want, we can circle 'round the compound a bit before heading back to yours."

A warmth envelopes you, and it's not because of his jacket.

He turns to you when you don't respond, immediately blurting, "only if you want," he wipes his lips, "I'm not trying to make you do-"

"No, I know," you shake your head, "I know what you mean."

You and Joel look at each other in the quiet while walking. He takes a moment before nodding. He chuckles rather uneasily, "okay... good- that's good."

Seconds pass with just the sound of your footsteps between you.

You decide to say what's on your mind, "Uh," you turn to your feet.

Joel immediately locks his gaze on you.

"Next time," you purse your lips, "just leave the pasta to me."

Joel knits his brows. Damn.

"You know..." you look away, "like, I'm glad you invited me over and all, but you-"

"Was it that bad?"

You finally turn to him, "what?"

"Was my cooking that bad?" Joel feels his insides churn. He feels so stupid suddenly for not following the recipe to a tee. Damn his personal tastes.

You shake your head, "no. No! Your cooking was great! It wasn't bad at all. I enjoyed it. This isn't about your cooking."

He makes a face, "oh..."

You nod, clarifying, "I just- you don't have to do that for me."

He takes a moment to think. Oh... He snorts and rubs his nose, "ah... I see."

You knit your brows at that.

Joel's shoulder's slump. It was him then. Well, he doesn't blame you for not being interested. He releases a breath. It was stupid of him anyway. He thinks of a flimsy excuse to break the tension. It a horrible lie, "sorry, uh, it's just-- Ellie just really wanted to eat with you."

His words make you knit your brows deeper. You blink twice, "Ellie... wanted me to join?"

"Yeah," Joel huffs, "she thinks your great."

You nod slowly.

"But... if you don't want to eat with me, I'll make sure to-"

"Wait, what?"

The both of you stop walking.

Joel feels his insides disintegrate when you look at him the way you do. He looks away and clears his throat. Man up, "I... don't want to make you uncomfortable with any... unwanted advances."

"Wait," you quickly step forward. You rapidly shake your head, "no! I..." you raise your brows, "I just- I don't want to burden you with... with- d-doing things for me."

A deep line forms between Joel's brows, "burden? Who said anything about burdens?"

You look away as you continue to shake your head, "I- I don't know. I just- I don't want to bother you-"

"JUST KISS ALREADY!"

Both of you snap to the side There, from the second floor window, was Ellie, head sticking out of the window. She cups her mouth with her hand and screams again, "KIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSS!"

You look away from her. You turn to your feet as you feel your face burn.

Joel's loud voice surprises you, "GO TO BED!"

"I'M NOT 4!" Ellie screams back.

Joel decides to end the screaming match with a grumble, "well, you're damn acting like one." He turns back to you, "sorry about her, she's-"

"I really like you," you blurt when you look back at him, "I really like being around you."

Joel feels his fingers tingle.

Your impulsiveness only now begins to feel like a bad idea, "I-" your voice gets smaller, "it's not unwanted advances... not per se... It's just- when people do things for me, I don't- well, I don't know, I-"

"You can't just accept it?"

You stare at each other for a moment. You nod. Joel nods too.

"I'm usually the one giving, ya know," you say.

Joel nods again, "I do. I feel the same way. I don't like needing to get help from anyone," he crosses his arms, "but, you know, being with Ellie... she's taught me that sometimes-"

"FUCKING KISS HER OLD MAN!"

You can't contain the snort that leaves your mouth. Joel shoots a glare to his side. Still, he breaks into a chuckle, "I'm gonna kill her."

Ellie makes a face and waves her hands, "NO! DON'T LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT- oh my god he actually did it."

[the-kr8tor]

Hello! Could I please request hobie x librarian! reader? Since I sent that imagine in I can’t get the idea out of my head 😭

Maybe hobie meeting up with r one time when they r working at the library to help him find a book (and to distract them from doing their job 🤣)

feel free to change the plot to this bc I couldn’t really think of one🤣!

🕊️anon

Thank you, dove for another lovely request!! 🫶

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, CW food mentions, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

It's a slow day in the library, all previously checked out books are properly placed in their shelves, everything else is organized in each pile. The smell of old books envelops you as you indulge yourself by reading a book that has you enthralled, the plot thickens, making you sit on the edge of your chair. Hands gripping the covers, your eyes widen at the love confession.

Your back is turned away from the table, making sure no one can see you reading the fluffiest romance book known to man. Being extra cautious, you hide your flustered face with your arms, toes wiggling inside your shoes while you giggle to yourself. Back folded like a shrimp, legs propped up on the chair with the book placed firmly on your knees.

Breath hitching in your throat, eyes brimming with tears when the protagonist finally realizes her best friend loves her too. You're too captivated to notice the presence behind you.

A gruff voice suddenly speaks, “‘He calls her name this time, not love, not Gromit or cherry, her name—’” he reads a passage right off the page.

You screech, the loud noise getting the attention of the library’s patrons. One shushes you while Hobie beams, hands tucked in his jean pockets. His smile gets bigger when you hide yourself behind your book.

He tilts his head, taking his hand out to move the book down and away from your face.

“There's my girl.” Hobie moves his hand to squeeze your nose. He can't help it when you're looking so adorable, and dare he say that he misses you so much that he decided to stop in the middle of his patrol just to see you.

He already thinks it's well worth it to change from his suit to his regular clothes in a grimey small alleyway from how you reacted.

“Hello?” You squeak out at your boyfriend, a shy smile hidden behind the cover of the book.

“Hi.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, “Why'd you hide the book from me? It was getting good.” He teases.

You collect yourself, calming your racing heart. Scooching a bit to the left, you pat the space.

Even though you two could barely fit on the office chair, Hobie still indulges you. Sitting down rather uncomfortably but he doesn't seem to mind as he immediately wraps his arm around your middle with the excuse of making sure you won't fall off the edge. You two are squeezed on the chair, half of your bodies sticking out. But you still stare at eachother like the protagonists in your book, with so much love and affection reserved with a simple look.

You place your face on the crook of his neck, nuzzling him. “Did you fight lizard?” Whispering right into his ear, he chuckles when your breath tickles him.

“Why? Do I smell?” He looks down at you, eyes soft whilst you sniff him. Nose kissing his skin.

“Hmm, no.” Sniff. “Yeah, nope.” He smells of leather and your fruity soap.

“How'd you know then?”

“You've got a piece of his scale stuck on your neck.” you narrow your eyes at the tiny green scale.

Hobie moves his neck to the side, giving you a full view. “Get rid of it for me?”

With your nail you gently scratch it off, flicking it away once you get it unstuck.

“There.” You rub his skin clean with your thumb

“Thank you, lovie.”

“What are you really doing here, Hobie?” You look at him through your lashes, “except for distracting me at work?”

“I think that job is already taken.” He taps your book on your lap. “‘m here to ask for help in finding a book.”

You giggle, knowing that's not the real reason. You decide to tease him a bit. “Okay, book title?”

“I don't remember,” he feigns like he's oblivious. Flicking his eyes on the cover, he continues. “Starts with the letter T, I think. That's where my favourite librarian comes in, right?”

“There are a lot of books starting with that letter. Do you at least have the author's name?” You play along.

“Ends with the letter R.” He grins.

“You're such an ass.” You laugh, muffling the sound with his jacket.

“You're right, ‘m here to annoy the living shit out of you.” You're not for one for PDA but you want to kiss the smirk off his lips. Maybe just one won't hurt. Before you could, he raises his hand, revealing a brown paper bag. “‘sides, I brought you lunch.”

The sight alone makes your stomach grumble, not realizing how hungry you've been with how transfixed you were with your book. You're now glad it was Hobie who found you reading during working hours and not your boss.

He heard your stomach grumble with the help of his enhanced hearing and how quiet the entire place is. But he decides not to tease you about it, for now at least.

You click your tongue, “food isn't allowed in the library.” He's disappointed at your comment. “but it's allowed in the employee lounge.” Grinning, now it's Hobie's turn to have the urge to kiss you silly.

“And I can read the rest of my book to you?” You ask, a bit nervous.

“So I can feed you while you read it to me, hmm? Very clever.”

“That's not what—”

He stands up, lending you a hand, flexing his fingers. “Let's go then, before your soup gets cold.”

“Is it from my favourite deli?” Your eyes shine in the fluorescent lights. “With bread?”

“‘course.” He'd cross oceans just for you if it means you get to eat the food you love. He acts like it's the most simplest thing in the world when in fact he had to line up for fifteen minutes to get your favourites.

You look at him with love in your eyes, taking his hand, he lifts you up with ease.

“Yeees.” You whisper happily. “For that I'll do the voices while reading.”

“Very romantic, love.” Hobie chuckles, letting you lead him excitedly down to the employee lounge.

[couchpotatoaniki]

An Annoying Kind of Pretty

Pairing: College Rival!Jungkook x College!Reader (British college, so basically senior year in highschool--they're 18) Word count: 4k+ Tags: mega fluff, light swearing, mentions of very mild violence (banter...maybe), mentions of clowns, reader is terrified of them, honestly, just cute shit, and they're being idiots A/N: I'm in the middle of reading Highly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute by Talia Hibbert and this just sprung to mind soooooooo yeah

No matter how much you scrub, you can't get this darn plate clean. At this point, you're ready to smash it to pieces so you don't have to spend another second on it. But, alas, this is not your dish and therefore dish-smashing rights are revoked. A true travesty, considering how ugly the damn thing looks anyway. Society would be better off without it.

But you scrub, scrub, scr--"Are you done?" A deep voice rumbles behind you. Involuntarily, your eyes close to hide the annoyance flickering through them, lest he somehow sees through the obscured reflection of the kitchen window. This time you've spent together has taught you he's almost decent at guessing body language (almost--he's still otherwise a useless male).

Gosh, if only you could destroy the plate and take a shard to one of his annoyingly pretty brown eyes. Honestly, the fact that a man like him has such wonderful features is what you'd consider to be a crime that nature has committed.

"What does it look like?" Yeah, maybe you should relax your jaw before your teeth grind to dust. Your dentist would have a heartattack if she saw the stress they've put them under lately (she likes to talk about them like they're some separate entity, a bit odd but she's sweet and likes to rant about her cats so you can happily bare it).

"Looks like you're slacking off."

Excuse me? "Maybe I'd be more efficient if you didn't leave your dishes to grow a mini ecosystem in your kitchen. You're likely worshiped as a god by bacteria since you created them their own little world."

He rolls his eyes. This you can't see through the haze of his reflection on the slightly filthy window but you've somehow grown accustomed to his mannerisms. Like a shitty superpower.

"Don't be so dra--"

"If you dare say 'dramatic', the next thing I'll be cleaning are your insides off the floor and countertops."

His reflection raises a hand in mock surrender. "Touché. But for your information, I don't live here."

This makes you turn around, pinning him with a glare. "If you don't live here, which ogre or troll does?"

"My brother. But he's been... ah, what's the word--" he waves his hand in a circular motion with his eyes closed, only to open again at the snap of his fingers--"backpacking across mainland Europe for past three months."

A huff leaves your nose as you return to the gruelling task at hand. You're going to need a shower after this, maybe two, just to make sure you don't catch the Black Plague or some other disease that would trigger another pandemic. "Then why am I here?"

"Because you owe me, remember?"

"Yes, you--not your brother that can't even remember to put away his dishes before he goes on stupidly basic holidays."

"'Stupidly basic'?" Jungkook's frame hobbles into the corner of your eye as he mocks you with a smirk. Darn him and his unusually large (and unfortunately well sculpted) build. A disgustingly natural beauty that demands attention, but you'd rather poke your eye repeatedly than admit that to him lest his cocky smirk and big head grow more than it already has.

Yet, you can't help a glance in his direction. Props to you though, your face managed to not betray your soul and remained in it's usual disinterested state.

"If I had a penny for every time I've heard someone backpacking across Europe, I'd be so rich I wouldn't have to pay you back with my services."

"Considering you sprained my wrist and my ankle, I'd request both payment in money and services."

The thought of the Incidents sent and involuntary shudder down your spine. About two weeks ago, you were minding your own business in the library, one thing led to another and long story short, you accidently pushed the usually well-balanced hulking man onto the hardwood floor and his hand landed at a funky angle. Less than 72 hours had passed and various shenanigans ensued involving 12 glue sticks, streamers, a helium tank, and an unwanted clown roaming the gymnasium which led to his second trip to Accident and Emergency.

In all fairness, he shouldn't have even been there helping to set up the farewell assembly for the final years in the first place. His fault, really, but he wouldn't hear of it since you did crash into him as you were running away from a definite (maybe) psycho killer.

"How many times do I have to apologise," you huff.

His finger taps his chin in mock thought. "Preferably forever, seeing as though I am having to limit my activities while it's the summer holidays before we go off to uni. But I suppose having you as my little servant until I get better is decent enough."

You send him another glare before carrying on. Almost spotless, this dish. "This is abuse of power."

He raised his cast as well as a deadpanned expression onto his face. "And this was just regular abuse."

"It was self-defence."

"Against me or the very innocent clown you claimed was 'chasing' you?"

"Both. And he was chasing me. I was terrified."

"Remind me when your birthday is?"

"Why?"

"No particular reason. Certainly not a clown-related one for retaliation. None whatsoever."

Your head turns so quickly to him that it almost gives you whiplash. "You dare."

"We'll just have to see."

Huffing, you finish up the last of the dishes, with Jungkook sat on the countertop beside yours (with a bit of difficulty). Guilt begins to bleed out of your heart and pool into a warmth in your cheeks as you once more mumble an apology to him, the dishes suddenly looking more appealing for your eyes to land on. "I... I really am sorry, though."

He sighs--as he usually does when you once more feel horrible about the state he is in and try to voice it. "Stop that."

For the millionth time, you purse your lips, ready to let a few beats of silence pass before you could say something to return it back to that annoyingly fun hateful banter than the heavy and suffocating air that follows an apology. Jungkook, however, did not care for your mental plans (you don't really think he cares about much of anything besides his grades, friends, and snacks like a typical man).

"Can I... admit something to you? So, like, Truce?"

"...Truce." You reach out for a cloth to wipe anything left on the countertop, but ears keenly remained on him.

"I'm kinda... glad you fucked up my arm." You send him an incredulous look, to which he blurts in response, "don't get me wrong, it hurts like shit and I'm no masochist, but having you here doing my bidding--" his lips quirked at the sight of you murderous glare, "--and keeping me company is... nice."

"...'Nice'." The word feels funny to your ears as you hear it, and even funnier when you speak it.

"Yes, nice." His feet swing a little, his head hanging a little sheepishly. "My friends are cool and all, but you're, like, really fun to piss off." Okay, you might actually end up killing him. "And we don't really hang out all that often during the holidays. Plus, you've got a different vibe to you that I think is... nice--" There's that fucking word again, how on earth did he get higher marks than you in English? "--and my parents work a lot regardless so having you as company is, I suppose, ni--"

"Get a grip, dude." Your eyes roll by themselves. "You're rambling."

His lips pout and his cheeks puff to make a ridiculous (yet adorable) face of a child being lightly scolded for no reason. "You said Truce."

"I'm hearing you out, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but you're still being mean."

"Boo-hoo." He look up at you and his narrowed eyes make you retract your statement. "I mean, sorry. Carry on."

"That's it."

"What's 'it'?"

"The thing I wanted to tell you."

"What thing?"

"You know...the thing."

"You spewed a lot of crap in that short frame of time, I truly have no idea what you're talking about."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed once more, this time in suspicion. "You know exactly what I mean."

"No I don't." It's pitiful to say that your face is losing the battle to keep your smile away, which ultimately makes him gasp and point accusingly towards you.

"Yes, you do, you egg."

"Going for the Shakespearean insults? Wow, I must've really ticked you off," you laugh.

Lucky for you, the nearest thing to him was an almost-finished kitchen roll, otherwise he would've landed you in A&E too from his well-aimed throw to your forearm.

"I'm trying to be sincere." His voice is at that whiney pitch he uses when he's frustrated but not enough to care about it. He tends to only use it around his friends, but the more hellish (a potential exaggeration) time you spend with each other, the easier it slips out of him.

"Stop saying 'nice' like someone's pulling it out of your arse and not in a fun way."

"Well, what else am I supposed to say?! That I think your wonderful and funny and interesting and I like it when we spend time together!"

You try not to let the admission show up in your expression, not when it's making your heart race a mile a minute. "I mean, yeah. Don't stop on my account, keep telling me how you think I'm the most amazing person on the planet and you worship the ground I walk on, please."

He rolls his eyes and smiles in that adorable shy why which tells you that he knows exactly what you're trying to do and appreciates the way you relieve the tension. "Jesus, even when you take the piss out of me you still say 'please' in a way that makes me want to..." he trails off, then sighs. "Nevermind, ignore me."

Oh no, you're not going to let it go that easily. "Hard to do when your pig-headed ego takes up half the room." You take your gloves off--making a mental note to burn them in the incinerator for all they've had to deal with today (it's a mercy, really)--and turn towards him to give your full undivided attention. As if that would make it any easier for him to speak. "Go on, please."

He rolls his eyes again, trying even harder to hide his smile but it's fails just as easily. "Stop it."

"Stop what? Could you tell me, please?" Your head cocks to the side and your eyes challenge him in a teasing sort of way.

"God fucking damnit, Y/N. I don't know how I'm going to survive uni with you," he laughs, but the way he looks back at you feels a little too fond.

It takes a second to process what he just said. "Um, what?"

"What?"

"You said... wait, are we going to the same uni?!"

"Um, yeah? We got into the same uni."

Shock takes ever your expression for a moment. "You remember which uni I applied to?"

He looks at you incredulously. "Yeah, of course I remember. And don't be so damn humble about your exam results, I know for a fact we're both getting in."

You take a second to find a response in your head, which seems momentarily empty except for that one phrase 'of course I remember.' "Well, that's beside the point." Jungkook raises a brow at you, not buying it but willing to shelf the matter for now. "What did you mean by all that earlier?"

He looks down, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I have no idea what you mean."

"No no, you can't get out of it that easily."

"I think I can."

You take a few steps to his side and try to perch yourself up on the side of the counter next to him. He doesn't say anything as he helps you up with his good hand wrapped around your waist--and neither do you in case the combustion of heat in your body will expel flames out of your mouth the second you open it, right for your rival to see. "You're infuriating, you know that right?"

"Really? Haven't heard you say it before."

"Shut up," you chuckle, lightly shoving his shoulder with your own.

"Never. I know how much you love my snark, even if you don't admit it," he grins in return, looking at you in a way that makes your insides turn and twist. God you didn't think you could hate his stupid face even more than you do now (or something like that).

Then there comes a moment where everything went still. You think it's slightly unfair that this boy is able to bend people to his will with his looks and charm, and now apparently he can bend time too. Okay, maybe in this instance it doesn't feel as bad because you strangely don't mind having time suspended when he's there with you.

Those brown eyes flicker down to your lips so quickly you wouldn't have caught it had you not been intently gazing at him too. Rushes of heat fill every inch of your body, and to be honest, you don't know how to respond to it.

Times like these are few between you two, mostly because most of your interactions happen where there's a number of people around. But when it's just the two of you...

It feels slightly dangerous, but in a warm, comforting way that's so addictive you get a little scared of how much you don't want it to end. And also how his lips don't look as repulsive to press your own again as much as they usually do.

Damn him and his witchery.

"Anything else you want me to do?"

He raises a brow. "I want you to do a lot of things, you're gonna have to be more specific."

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "I mean, any cleaning up you needed me to do for your unhygienic brother?"

"Ah... no. The dishes were the main thing."

"Okay..." Silence stretches around the two of you until you find enough boldness within you to break it. "What were the other things?"

"What other things?"

"That you wanted me to do."

"Uh, I think you might fracture my balls too if I said them."

"Coward."

The corner of his lips curve. "There's a fine line between bravery and stupidity."

"Wow, I didn't think you knew it existed since you tend to cross it a lot."

"Har har," he deadpans, making you smile.

Your hands run over your thighs, a nervous tick you have that you have no doubt he's clocked onto by the way his good hand reaches out to squeeze one of them gently. Your hand, that is, though a corner of your traitorous mind that's steadily becoming louder over the past couple of weeks the longer you spend time with him thinks that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it was your thigh instead. It's certainly big enough and you've seen the way he handles modelling clay for his art homework. There's no doubt he'd be able to relieve the tension of the muscles there. Or anywhere else--ah, no. Nope. Absolutely not.

"Sometimes I kinda kick myself for doing this deal with you." At your quizzical look, he clears his throat. "Makes it harder to ignore you when you're right with me for a good chunk of the day."

"You couldn't ignore me even if you tried."

He snorts. "Tired and proven."

Your brows scrunch, though your heart still beats against your chest. "What, really? You've tried to ignore me? Damn. Here I was hoping it would've worked out."

"Oh, I tried a few years ago, I think? Closer to when we first met. But unfortunately, you're hard to ignore."

Mockingly, you straighten you back and lift your head up. "Given how perfect I am, smarts and looks and all."

His smile is a bit weaker this time. "Yeah... Practically impossible to keep my mind off you."

Silence flows once more for a moment or two and you realise his hands is still wrapped around yours. "You know I tried too...in the beginning. Unfortunately, that didn't last long either."

His brow quicks. "Given how perfect I am, smarts and looks and all?"

"The opposite, actually. You were too dumb and ugly not to. Out of pity, really." From your teasing expression, he knows that he was right.

"Riiiiight, 'pity'. We'll go for that blatant lie if you want to save face."

"I have no idea what you mean."

"I think you do."

"I think I don't."

You don't realise until now how close your faces have gotten, able to feel the soft gentle breaths against your lips from his. It feels so difficult to maintain the distance but even more so to move closer to further.

"When you asked me what I meant by all that... ask me again."

"What?"

"Ask me what I meant by everything I said before."

You've been sensing this coming for a while now, longer than whatever time you've spent together in his brother's now-clean kitchen (thanks to you). Like the sky is falling, but you can't seem to look away from it.

"What did you mean?"

Jungkook's tongue peeks out to run along his bottom lip. "I meant that I... I think you're amazing, potentially out of my league--"

"--definitely out of your league--" Definitely what you would consider a lie because look at him and his social skills and his grades and passion and whatnot.

"--and so damn sweet and kind."

"Did you not just hear me call myself out of your league? Or pay attention to most of our conversations in general."

He sends a questioning look to you, as if he can see through your bullshit. "I think we both know you don't think that--for some stupid reason, because you actually are out of my league."

"Don't be humble, it doesn't suit you."

"I'm not. Just truthful. And the truth is, I find it hard to be around you and not fall for you. I see the person you are when you let your guard down with people you care about and how annoyingly well you follow that moral compass of yours even if you use fancy mean words to distract everyone else."

You snort. "If only you heard my thoughts about you while I was doing the dishes. Maiming was not off the list."

He tried to bite back a laugh. "Given the condition of those dishes, I would give you a free pass for homicide."

"Good thing your teen boy-genes haven't totally overtaken your common sense of hygiene."

"I think we can both agree we're growing out of the 'teen' bit of our lives."

"Nope," you deny quickly, waving your hand out as if to undo what he just said. "I'd like to stick my head in the sand and forget about how quickly life is moving into adulthood until it hits me like a train--"

"--or a clown--"

"--thank you very much," you end tightly, sending him a light-hearted glare.

"As I was saying," he continues, amusement lighting up his face, "it's hard not to want to kiss you at times."

"Even when I'm mouthing off to you?"

"Especially when you're mouthing off."

Even though you were expecting it, it takes a minute to process. "Oh."

"Yes, 'ohhhhh'," he mocks, nudging you with a teasing smirk.

"That must've been annoying in class then."

"Very," he nods solemnly. "There were times I wanted to throw caution to the wind and traumatise everyone."

"From the shit some of my friends say, I don't think people would be that shocked if you'd kiss me."

"Huh, maybe you're not as airheaded as you make yourself out to be."

"Rude," you mumble. "I pay attention. I just tend to...second guess."

"I think my feelings for you were a bit obvious. I mean, I think I could've survived without having you be at my beck and call this summer but I said yes anyway."

"Manipulative bastard."

"Anything for you," he sends a cheesy grin your way, making you laugh at the sudden and very inconvenient butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.

"'Anything'?"

"Okay, from that tone, I can tell you're imagining something horrifying so let me change that to 'anything within reason'."

"Coward."

"You are slightly terrifying."

"Why, thank you," you smile, and he smiles too with that buttery warm look of fondness again before he leans in slowly, giving you enough time to move away. But when you don't, he pressed his lips against yours and fucking hell it's the softest thing you've ever felt.

You don't know how long it takes for the kiss to break but even breathless you still miss the warm softness against your mouth. And apparently he felt the same because it takes very little time for him to capture your lips again, untangling his hand from yours to cup the side of your jaw, keeping you in place--not like it was possible for you to leave his addictive taste anyway, it might take dark magic for that to happen.

Maybe something even more potent, when his tongue slips its way past your lips and you find that he's stolen every single thought that occupied your mind. Again, time slips away until you're lungs are burning from the lack of air and you both pull away--though not too far from one another.

"So," he says breathless.

"So," you repeat in the same manner, mind still a little fuzzy.

"That was... something."

"Good something or bad something?"

"I don't think 'good' is a strong enough word I want to use." You hum in agreement, and reluctantly pull a little further away, his hand dropping back down onto yours. He looks at you curiously. "So..."

"So..."

"Would I be too soon if I asked you to take pity on a poor simp like me and be mine?"

"Hmmm," you hum in thought. "Given your performance, I'm inclined to accept."

"I can upgrade you from being my reluctant servant to my reluctant lover." He wiggles his borrows and you groan.

"With a romantic declaration like that, I find it hard not to accept," you deadpan, before sighing and leaning against his shoulder. You want to bottle up that sound up and listen to it until you get sick of it--which you have a sneaking suspicion is about as likely as the sun imploding in your lifetime.

"Would you let me continue to wreak havoc on your life?"

"Naturally."

"Then yes. I accept." He raises a brow expectantly and you clock on to what he's waiting for. "I'm not saying it."

"Say it."

"No."

"Please?"

"I take back my answer."

"No backsies."

"What, are you five years old or something?"

"Just say it! Say you'll be my lover."

"If you manage to make this relationship last for 50 years, then I will."

He huffs, leaning his head on top of yours, fingers linking with yours. "I suppose I can agree with that. I'll keep a note of it in my calendar."

"How unusually organised of you."

"Like I said, I'd do anything for you."

"Within reason, of course."

"Of course. Doesn't need to be logical reason, just reason."

"Good to know. Now, let's get out of your brother's place. I feel all the germs crawling all over me and need an extra hot shower--maybe two--to feel even remotely clean after that ordeal."

He laughs as he pressed a kiss on top of your head. "Yeah, okay, we can do that. Though I hoped you reminded me before I kissed you."

"You just did again after I told you, dumbass."

"In my defence, I did tell you it was hard not to. If I die of some unknown disease, I blame on you." You roll your eyes with a smile as the two of you hop off the counter and make your way out, hands still clasped together.

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - One

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

This is my first original fic after The Pilot and his Girl and it will be a very different read (just in case you're totally traumatised by The Pilot...😬)

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve short stories, each set in the same bakery. The plan is to post one chapter every Sunday night so hold me to that schedule when my procrastination kicks in!

Warnings won't be very serious, just lots of fluff, lots of food, some mention of drugs because you know some of these Pedro boys are just like that.

Series Master List

@harriedandharassed tagging you in this because you said you wanted to read anything new ❤❤❤

The drawback of being a baker is that your working day starts when others are still tucked in bed with hours left to sleep. Or just coming home from a party. But you don’t mind all that much, there’s a certain tranquil peace to being awake and working in the bakery while the rest of the world sleeps. 

In the warmer months you prop open the back door so that you can hear the birds starting to sing as the sky slowly grows lighter outside, today is just one of those mornings. 

The early morning radio show is on low in the background as you prepare the day. Yesterday's loaves have proofed overnight in the cold storage and are ready for the oven, the pie doughs taken out and softening while you prepare the cookie doughs. 

People don’t often knock on the bakery's back door before you open for the day, but it happens, so when you suddenly hear someone shuffle and knock, you’re not surprised. Wiping your hands on your apron you turn the corner into the small back room. A man is leaning on the door frame, but not the sexy, romance novel leaning. No, this man is leaning in a ‘lean-or-fall-over’ kinda way. His eyes are covered by large black sunglasses that he pulls down as you spot him, a tired but cheeky smirk on his face. 

“Hey, baker girl,” he grins, his voice gravelly like he’s chain smoked all night, “got any sna- oh whoops!” he giggles madly as he loses his balance and tumbles sideways, catching the other door frame before he grabs onto your arms and almost manages to stand up straight. 

“You might need coffee, not snacks,” you say, holding onto him to stop him from falling face forward into your apron.  

“I’m fine,” he grins, pushing himself upright again but still holding on to the door frame, “I just came from this party, were you there?,” he asks, giving you another over the glasses look, this time clearly checking you out as his eyes drag up and down your form, lingering on your pink crocs. 

“Actually, I would’ve remembered if you were there, love the crocs,” he chuckles. 

“What’s wrong with my crocs?” you ask, slightly offended, “They’re great for people like me, you know, people who actually work on Thursdays.” 

“No, no, I mean it, I love your crocs!” the man says, wide eyed and shoving his glasses up in his wild curls, “I have like ten crocs, one pair is pink too.” 

He furrows his eyebrows, giving you a confused look, “Wait, it’s Thursday?” 

“Yeah, five am, Thursday morning,” you say, wondering how to get rid of this disheveled man so that you can get back to the cookie dough. 

“Fuck, oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck….” the man groans, bending double and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, “I’m so fucked…I thought it was Wednesday.” 

He stands up again and you can’t help but feel sorry for him, he looks devastated. 

“I was meant to fly out to San Antonio yesterday and take my nice to Six Flags for her birthday, and I fucking missed it!” 

He slumps against the door frame and thumps the back of his head against it repeatedly, moaning, “I’m such a fuck up, I’m such a fuck up.” 

“Hey, take it easy, I’m sure it’ll be fine, just apologize and take her another day,” you say, putting your hand on the man’s arm to stop him from giving himself a concussion in your bakery, “I’m sure she’ll understand.” 

“You think?” he says, “I’m not the best at remembering birthdays, I may have missed a few in the past.” 

“Well, then she’ll be mad at you, but all you can do is apologize right? And try to make it up to her as best you can.” 

“Yeah…yeah…maybe you’re right, thanks baker girl.” He gives you a lopsided smile and you notice the smudges of dark eyeliner around his eyes, “How about those snacks? I’m fucking starving.” 

You can’t help but laugh, the man’s a mess but somehow adorable at the same time with his wild hair and stained t-shirt. 

“Sure, I’ll get you something, what do you like?”

“Do you have sausage rolls?” he asks, following you into the kitchen, “I fucking love sausage rolls.”

“What, like those things they made on the Great British Bake Off?” you reply, opening your walk in fridge to survey the snack options. 

“Yeah, I did this movie once, in England, and there was a bakery next to my apartment and whenever I got back from a party, early morning, I’d knock on their back door and they’d sell me these fat sausage rolls, fresh from the oven, fucking amazing.” 

“Sorry, no sausage rolls in this bakery,” you say, “but my cookies will be done soon, if you can wait.” 

You turn back to the man and realize he’s wandering around the kitchen, sticking his nose in your bowls, sniffing loudly. 

“Hey, don’t stick your finger in that,” you say, “Health and Safety are going to have my license if they catch you.”

“Sorry, I’ve just got the munchies, I’ve been high for like, two days,” he says, waving his arms around, “this place is torture for a high pers-OH! Do you know what I love?”

“No,” you sigh, exasperated, “I don’t know what you love.”  

He completely misses your tone as he spins in a circle around the kitchen and you realize that he’s wearing what looks like very expensive pajama pants and no shoes, just socks.

“I love those…what do you call them, like…millionaire’s something?” 

“Millionaire's shortbread?” you ask and he spins around to you with a big grin. 

“Yes! Those! With like the chocolate and the peanut butter and they’re like the best Reese’s ever, only even more fucking amazing. Can you make those?”  “I don’t know, maybe,” you begin and the man actually falls to his knees, shuffling over the floor to you. 

“Please, I’ll do anything, I’m dying here, beautiful baker girl, make me happy!”

“Are you asking me to bake for you or proposing?” you laugh, this man is too ridiculous as he grins up at you. 

“If you make them for me, I won’t marry you, but there are many other things I can do,” he says, pulling down his dark sunglasses from his head and winking at you from over the edge, his cheeky grin making it impossible to scowl at him. 

“Fine, I’ll make them for you, just get up from my floor, please,” you say, reaching for his hand. He takes yours with a bright smile, kissing the back of it, before he stumbles to his feet and follows you over to your big workbench.

“I’m Dieter, by the way. Can I sit here?” he asks, pointing to the stool that stands next to the bench. 

“Nice to meet you Dieter,” you say, “sure, go ahead, it’s got wheels on it though so be careful.” 

“Awesome,” Dieter says and sits down, immediately speeding across the floor with a kick of his socked feet. He stops himself from crashing into the fridge door by grabbing on to the handle before he shoots off again, rolling all the way over to the open back door. 

“Don’t fall out through the door please,” you call after him and you hear him giggle, a second later he comes spinning into the kitchen again. 

“This thing is awesome, I need to buy one for my house.” 

“Happy you’re enjoying yourself,” you laugh and walk to where yesterday’s bakes are stacked on trays. You’d made a layer of shortbread yesterday, you were planning on making lemon bars but Millionaire’s shortbread will work too. As you bring it over to your work station Dieter rolls past you and stops by the bench.  “Can I help?” he asks, looking up at you, his sunglasses back in his messy hair. He’s kinda cute when you think about it, gorgeous brown eyes, and the smile he’s giving you is open and curious with an adorable dimple. 

“Yeah, sure, you can be in charge of peanuts,” you say, walking over to the dry storage, “They need to be bashed into chunks with a rolling pin, something tells me that’s something you can probably handle.” 

“That sounds fun, please, direct me,” he says, kicking himself over to the storage cupboard on the stool. 

“Oops, sorry,” he giggles, grabbing hold of your hips to stop himself from crashing into the storage door, “I kicked too hard that time.” 

“Go easy there, Dieter,” you laugh as he untangles himself from the stool and stands up. You get on your tiptoes to grab the peanuts and suddenly realize he’s still holding on to your hips, standing close behind you. You swear you feel his nose brush the side of your head, a quick inhale from him, and then he steps back, letting go. 

“Peanuts?” he says, leaning past you and reaching up to grab the bag sitting just out of your reach. His arm brushes over yours and he’s suddenly very close again, his citrusy after shave, mingling with the heady sweet smoke of weed, fills your senses. 

“Uhh…y-yeah,” you stutter, “thanks. And the dark chocolate if you can reach it.” 

“Sure, this one?” he asks, grabbing the bag of Valrhona from the shelf. This time his chest is pressed against your back, you really should move out of his way, but he’s right behind you, almost pinning you in place, as he has to stretch to his full length to reach. And you find that you don’t mind at all, he’s warm and solid behind you, and this is more action than you’ve had in months. 

“That’s the one, thanks,” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. 

Dieter brings it down to your level and you take it from him, expecting him to step back and give you room to go back to the work bench. But instead he stays right behind you, and this time you really do feel him bend down and brush his nose over your cheek, down to where your neck meets your shoulder. 

“You smell delicious, like a cookie,” he mumbles and your heart literally skips a beat. 

“Th-thanks,” you splutter and when Dieter steps back, letting you move, you avoid his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn. 

“S-so the…umm…rolling pin is on that shelf there,” you say, pointing down to your right, “and there’s a measuring cup too, just…umm…just get a cup of peanuts, and put them in a plastic bag and bash away. Just wash your hands first.” 

“Ok, I can do that,” he says with a grin and he walks behind you to the sink in the corner while you measure out the peanut butter into a sauce pan. 

Dieter gets to work on the peanuts with great enthusiasm until you tell him they’re broken up enough. 

“Just leave them there, you can come here and stir the peanut butter while I get the caramel ready,” you instruct him and he ambles over in just his socks. 

“What happened to your shoes? If you don’t mind me asking,” you point at his stripey, multicolored socks. 

“I’m not sure,” Dieter glances down at his feet, “I had shoes when I left home, I’m sure of it, but after that it gets a bit hazy.” 

“You’ve really been partying since Tuesday?” you ask and he nods. 

“Yeah, it was a good party so we just kinda kept going,” he grins, “there was a huge pool and we all went in. Actually, maybe that’s where I lost my shoes?” 

“Maybe, you could go back and look for them?” 

“And miss out on baking with a pretty baker girl? Never!” he chuckles and you’re not totally sure he’s being serious or not, but the grin he gives you makes you hope he is. 

“I think this is melted,” he says, draggin the spoon through the silky smooth peanut butter, showing you the bowl. 

“Yeah, that looks done. Just pass me that tray of shortbread and I’ll pour the caramel on top.” 

“Can I lick the bowl?” he asks, looking over your shoulder as you let the thick golden liquid pool on top of the shortbread. 

“I’m pretty good at scraping, there’s usually nothing left to lick,” you say, dragging the spatula around the edge. 

“Can’t you be a bit sloppy, just for me?” Dieter grins, standing entirely too close, “It smells so good, I wanna taste it.” 

This time he’s definitely flirting, the salacious smile on his face while he winks at you, makes you both roll your eyes and squash down butterflies on the inside. 

“Fine, I’ll leave some for you,” you smile, looking back at the shortbread again and scraping out caramel, leaving the last of it on the spatula. Putting the bowl to the side, you hold out the spatula for him. But instead of taking it, he grabs hold of your hand, and licks the caramel off the spatula with a long swipe of his tongue. His eyes don’t leave yours and the whole thing is so over the top you burst out laughing. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, tone it down maybe?” you snort, as he abruptly stops licking, letting go of your hand. 

“What?” he blushes, “I saw it in this movie, it looked sexy.” 

“Yeah, in a porno maybe!” you say, handing him the spatula, and only the spatula.

He takes it with a sheepish look, “Sorry, that usually works.” 

“Not in this bakery, I have to work with that spatula when you’re gone, I can’t have it being used as a porno prop, Dieter.” You grab a new spatula from the holder on the counter and start smoothing out the caramel. 

“You do smell good though,” Dieter says, still looking sheepish, “that wasn’t just a line.” 

“Thanks,” you shoot him a quick smile, working over the caramel, “you smell good too, underneath all that weed funk.” 

At this he grabs the front of his t-shirt and sniffs it, wrinkling his nose, “Yeah, it’s kinda obvious, huh.” 

“Can’t believe you partied for forty-eight hours, I’d be dead on my feet,” you say, mixing the peanut butter into the caramel layer, sprinkling in some of the crushed peanuts, “Do you want coffee or something while we wait for this to set?” 

“Fuck yes, coffee sounds amazing!” Dieter exclaims, dropping the spatula from his mouth, “And this stuff is amazing too, I’d eat a bowl of just this.” 

“You’d die of a sugar rush if you did,” you laugh, sliding the tray into the large fridge and setting a timer on your phone, “C’mon, the coffee machine is out front.” 

One of the advantages of being the sole owner of the bakery was that you got to decide what to skimp on, and what to splurge on. And the espresso machine was something you’d really splurged on. For a shop that mainly sold take out baked goods, it was way over the top, but it meant you always had great coffee on hand for your early mornings. The machine was already up and running, humming quietly as you started preparing two shots. 

“How do you take it, Dieter?” you ask and he winks at you.  “Anyway you wanna give it to me, baker girl,” he grins and when you sigh loudly, he laughs and holds up his hands in defense. “C’mon! I had to! You set it up perfectly!” 

“How do you take your coffee?” you emphasis and glare at him, but your smile is breaking through and he gives you a playful poke as he comes up and stands next to the machine. 

“Extra everything, cream, sugar, any of those coffee syrups if you have ‘em.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” you smirk, “A guy who loves Millionaire’s Shortbread, of course he wants extra everything. I bet you’re lining up outside your local Starbucks the morning they start selling Pumpkin Spice.” 

“I would never drink Starbucks!” he protests, “Fucking vile coffee and the worst of corporate America. But you can’t beat a good pumpkin spice if you’ve got quality coffee.” 

“I’ve only got great coffee here, but no syrup, you want a latte? Double shot espresso?” 

“Please,” he says, leaning against the counter next to the espresso machine as he looks over the front of your little shop, crossing his arms. You can’t help the glance up at his arms, the t-shirt hanging on for dear life as it clings to his biceps and broad shoulders. The many rings on his fingers look tiny on his large hands as he grips the outside of his arms, and you’re temporarily distracted by them, and his close proximity. 

The hiss of the machine pulls you back to reality, coffee sputtering out of the spouts into the cup. You glance back up at Dieter and find him watching you with a crooked smile, a dimple in his cheek. 

“What?” you say, looking back at the machine and begin to steam the milk. 

“You really are beautiful,” he says, almost matter of factly, “especially when you zone out.” 

“It’s early, and I’ve been up since two am, but thanks, I guess,” you reply, handing him the latte and pointing to the sugar bowl on the counter next to the till. 

“I wasn’t trying to make a move or anything,” he says, sounding slightly hurt, “I just wanted to tell you I think you’re gorgeous.” 

“No, I’m sorry,” you say, immediately regretting your tone, “I’m just not used to compliments I guess, I didn’t mean to sound so rude. I should’ve just said thanks,” you look over at him and give him a smile, “Thanks Dieter.” 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, smiling back. 

You knock out the used coffee grounds and fill it up again to make your own coffee. Dieter reaches over and grabs four sugar cubes and drops them in the latte, stirring while he watches you work. He’s watching you closely again and it makes your cheeks heat up. He’s got a strange energy of childish mayhem and intense magnetism, chaos that’s either going to make you laugh until your sides hurt or fuck you until you can’t walk straight for a week. And you’re not sure which one you want. 

Your coffee done, you add a splash of milk and lean against the counter opposite Dieter, taking a careful sip. He’s wrapped both his large hands around the thick glass and is delicately licking the foam, drawing a pattern in it with his tongue. You watch him for a few seconds until he notices you and gives you a sheepish grin. 

“What?” he asks, copying your tone from earlier. 

“You really think I’m pretty?” you ask, the question slipping out before you have a chance to stop it, immediately regretting your filterless mouth. 

But he gives you a disarming smile, “Gorgeous. Gorgeous baker girl that smells like cookies and caramel and chocolate.” 

“You’re just high,” you can’t help but scoff at him, but he just shakes his head. 

“No, not at all.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, just looks at you, the silence stretching between you until you think something will have to snap and it’s probably going to be you. 

The phone saves you, the timer going off just as you don’t think you can stand another second of his chocolate brown eyes looking at you like you’re the snack he’s been asking for. 

“Thecaramelisset,” you rush out, breaking eye contact and hurrying back into the kitchen as if another second in the fridge would ruin the whole thing. Dieter comes in behind you at a slower pace, still drinking his coffee. 

You pull out the tray and set it down on the workbench before turning on the burner under a saucepan of water, setting up a water bath. 

“I’m just gonna melt this chocolate, and then I’ll spread it on top, it’ll set pretty quickly. And then it’s done.” You work quickly, too flustered to look at him and he hoovers just to your side, watching your movements. 

The chocolate melts fast, you only need a thin layer, and then you pour it over the caramel. You scrape the bowl clean but leave a generous amount of chocolate on the spatula, giving it to Dieter. 

“Don’t burn your mouth, it’s still warm”, you say when he takes it. He doesn’t grab your hand this time, but his fingertips brushes over yours as he nods, and it sends a sharp little jolt through you. 

You turn back to the almost finished shortbread but can’t help glancing over at him. His pink tongue comes out and licks the chocolate, this time it’s not over the top, nothing provocative about it, he’s not even looking at you. But you swear you can feel every stroke of his tongue on your own skin, burning hot and wet.

You swallow and tear your eyes away, blindly reaching for the crushed peanuts, taking a handful and scattering it across the chocolate. The Millionaire’s Shortbread is done and you slide the tray back into the fridge, it only needs a few minutes. Dieter remains by the counter, finishing off the chocolate on the spatula as you start to clean up the kitchen and bring out the cookie dough that still needs to be taken care of. You see Dieters eyes widen as he sees the first scoop of dough land on the baking tray. 

“Is that chocolate chip,” he almost whispers reverently, spatula forgotten, as he slowly comes over to stare down into the bowl. 

“You want to try it? It’s double chocolate chip with browned butter.” 

He makes a gurgling noise in the back of his throat, tilting his head back before he looks at you and nods, “Please, it smells so good.” 

You grab a tasting spoon, giving him a generous scoop and watch with a smile as he puts it in his mouth. His eyes close of their own volition as he moans, far too enticingly, around the spoon. 

“Oh my god…” he sighs, slowly chewing the dough, “This is like heaven, better than sex, better than fucking coke.” 

“Knock yourself out,” you chuckle, “it’s not healthy but it’s sure as hell better for you than coke.” 

“And sex?” he asks with a wink, still rolling the dough around his mouth. 

“They’re probably on par, but this is tastier than cum.” 

Dieter nearly chokes, coughing loudly as you giggle. Between repeated attempts at clearing his throat he points his finger at you accusingly, trying to grin between his coughing.

“You’re…” he coughs again, “You’re a dirty baker girl!” he finally manages, grinning widely as you go back to scooping dough, still giggling. 

“I can’t believe I said that, but you did serve it up perfectly.” 

“I did, but I never thought your mind was that filthy, I’m appalled” he laughs, placing a hand on his chest in a mock gesture of shock. “Better than cum huh? You have a lot of experience in that department?” 

Now he’s winking again, poking to get more details out of you. So instead you take another tasting spoon, scoop up more dough and put it straight into his mouth to shut him up. It works, he grins around the spoon and smacks his lips at the taste. 

“So fucking good, definitely better than cum,” he smirks, earning an eye roll from you. “Do you wanna taste it?” 

“I’m good, I’ve already tasted the dough many times,” you reply, careful to specify that you’re talking about dough. 

“Maybe not like this though,” Dieter says, suddenly bending down and pressing his lips against yours. It almost makes you jump, his soft lips against yours, his aftershave, it all envelops you in an instance. He’s not touching you anywhere else, just your lips, and you can’t taste him, his mouth is still closed. Maybe you should push him off, the thought flits through your mind for a split second. But you want to taste him, taste the cookie dough you know is delicious, mingled with him, so you part your lips, your tongue coming out. 

Dieter lets a quiet groan slip out as he part his lips, letting you in, opening his mouth and tilting his head to come closer. You hear the spoon clatter to the floor as his hand comes up and cups your cheek, his big hand reaching behind your neck, another stifled groan from him. He tastes of sugar, coffee and chocolate, all flavors mingling into something enticing that pulls you closer.

There’s nothing delicate about this kiss now, you lick into his mouth, and he offers you all the space you want, holding you close and moaning softly as your tongues tangle.

“Touch my hair,” he mumbles, breathing into your mouth, “I want to feel your hands in my hair.” 

“They’re all sticky, Dieter,” you protest but you feel him shake his head, his lips brushing over yours. 

“I don’t care, touch me, hold me, I want to smell like you when I leave,” his tongue slips between your lips, and you run your hands through his hair. You can feel it sticking, tugging at his wild locks but he just groans, his hands holding you tighter and, encouraged, you let your own hands run across his body, eliciting another loud groan from him. 

Tension is building between the two of you, he is growing hard against your belly, unmistakably turned on and doing nothing to hide it. You can feel heat radiating from your own core, so scorching he must feel it too through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. If this doesn’t stop soon he’ll have you bent over the workbench in a minute, and Health and Safety would definitely have something to say about that. 

With a groan and tremendous effort, you put your hands on his chest and push him away. His lips chase yours for a few seconds, eyes closed, a protest coming from him, before he looks down at you with a sigh. 

“You taste even better than you smell,” he says, not letting go of your cheek, his other hand still around your waist. 

“The cookie dough goes really well with the coffee,” you reply, your mouth quirking up in a smile and he matches it, a dopey look on his face. 

“Amazing,” he breathes, "you're amazing, baker girl.” 

His adoration makes you tremble, you feel the heat in your cheeks, and he sees it, leaning into your lips. He stops and looks at you for a beat, to ask for your permission, and when you don’t pull away he presses a soft kiss to your warm mouth, so different from the hasty, heated kiss you just shared. This one lasts only for a few seconds, gentle, before he pulls back, his hand slowly trailing along your check. 

“I should probably call for my ride,” he says softly, “it’ll take a while to get here.” 

“Ok,” you nod, “the shortbread should be done too.” 

“Ok,” he replies, but he doesn’t make a move to leave and you can’t seem to take your eyes off him. 

“I really should…” he sighs, tracing his fingertips over your cheek again, “call that ride.” 

“Go, do that, I’ll cut the shortbread, we can have some while we wait for your ride.” You lightly put your hand on his warm chest and push him away, smiling, but you really want to bunch your hand in the soft t-shirt and pull him closer. 

“Ok,” he says, louder this time, as if making up his mind. He shoves his hand in his pocket, miraculously finding his phone intact as you bring the tray out of the fridge. 

The whole thing has set into layers, so you take a sharp knife and start cutting rectangles, slipping them up and onto the tray that goes in your display case, some go into a take away box, two you put on a separate plate and then look around for Dieter, spotting his broad back out by the back door. Just as you come over to him he ends his call, turning around to you with a smile. 

“My ride will be here in about twenty minutes,” he says, following you to the doorstep and sitting down. You sink down next to him, maybe a little bit closer than necessary, but he’s wide and takes up almost the whole door frame. Your cookie dough is still waiting for you, you’ll be playing catch up with your baking for the rest of the morning, but it’ll be worth it. This chaotic, disheveled man has made your morning a lot more exciting than usual and you’re a little bit sad to see him go. 

“Here, what you came for,” you say, holding out the plate, and Dieter takes one of the Millionaire’s Shortbread. 

“I can’t believe you made these just for me,” he grins and bites into it. You watch his face, this is your favorite part of baking, watching people when they taste the finished thing. And Dieter doesn’t disappoint, he groans, loudly, grabbing onto your arm and leaning his forehead against your shoulder, his whole body reacting to the flavors in his mouth as he chews. 

“I Iive here now,” he moans, “I’m giving up my career, I’m going to live in your bakery and pay you to feed me for the rest of my life.” He lifts his head up and takes another big bite of the shortbread, groaning again as he looks at you, his eyebrows pulled together, big brown eyes pleading. “How is this so good?” he moans, his tongue coming out to catch an errant peanut crumb, “you’ve got to taste this.” 

He holds up the last bite of the shortbread to you, and you open your mouth, letting him place it between your lips. You feel his fingers brush over them as he pulls back, his thumb coming up to swipe over your bottom lip. 

“It’s really good, I’m pretty happy with this,” you say, trying to not chew with your mouth open as Dieter looks at you, his eyes on your lips.

“Do you want another one?” you ask, holding up the plate and Dieter nods fervently and groans again as he takes a bite. 

“I can’t decide, this or sex, which is better,” he chuckles, and you nod. You know the cake is good, but you can’t help but wonder if sex with Dieter might not be even better. 

You sit side by side in the early morning sunshine, eating the cakes. Dieter soon finishes his second one and cracks the lid on the take away box you’ve given him, sneaking a third one with a childish grin that makes you happy to see. 

“Seriously, I live here now, I’m moving in tomorrow,” he mumbles, moaning between bites, leaning on you, his head on your shoulder. 

“You do that Dieter, I might even let you lick the bowl once in a while,” you say, patting his messy hair. 

“Lick the bowl or lick your bowl, baker girl?” he giggles and you give him a light smack, shaking your head. 

“Enough with the porn jokes,” you scold him, no menace to your words, he can hear the smile in your voice and giggles again. 

“Can I put my head in your lap?” he asks, “Nothing weird, I promise, I’m just really tired suddenly.” 

“Ok, sure, but your ride should be here soon.” 

“Yeah, I just wanna relax my eyes for a while….” Dieter yawns and slips down the stairs to sit on the last step, hooking his arm around your hips and putting his head on your lap. The warm weight of him on your legs is actually comforting, his arm a steady hold behind you. Without thinking about it you start carding your fingers through his hair, adding to the sticky mess, making it stand on end, but he doesn’t seem to mind. It takes him minutes to fall asleep, a low rumbling snore coming from him. 

You keep stroking his head for a few more minutes before you carefully lift his head up and slip out from under him, letting his arm be his pillow. You need to go back to baking, your first customers will be arriving soon and you haven’t even put the cookies in the oven, you want them fresh and warm when the early morning commuters arrive. 

Back in the kitchen you quickly scoop the rest of the dough on the trays and get them in the oven and start stocking the display case out front with what’s already done. You’re just sliding the last croissants into the tray when the opening hour strikes and you flip the sign on the front door. You’ve been listening out back for a car to pull up but you haven’t heard anything and once the morning rush starts, you’re swamped and a couple of hours pass before you even realize. When it finally calms down you wipe down the counter and clean your hands before checking out by the back door. It’s still open, but Dieter is gone, as is the take away box, not a trace of your chaotic, magnetic early morning visitor. 

Hours later, as you’re about to close up for the day, a delivery van pulls up in front of the shop. A man in a uniform jumps out and comes rushing in with a box and an extravagant bouquet of flowers with a vase.  “Delivery for you, miss,” he says, handing you a device to sign your name on, and then the flowers and the box. 

“Thanks,” you say but the man is already halfway out the door. 

The flowers fill the small shop with their scent, and you place them on the counter, next to the till, stopping to stick your nose into the white lilac and breathing deeply before getting the shop closed up.

You flip the sign and take the box into the kitchen, the back door is still open to let the warm spring air in. Sinking down on the stairs where you sat with Dieter just this morning, you open the box. It contains another box and inside that, a note. But there’s also a mouth watering, rich, smell of pastry and meat coming from the box. Intrigued, you open the lid, only to find a thermal container inside, like a small version of the ones used to keep delivery pizza warm. Inside are six fat, delicious looking sausages rolls. Your stomach gives a hungry grumble and you immediately grab one, laughing as you remember Dieter’s first request this morning; sausage rolls, like the ones he bought in England after party nights. 

The sausage roll really is as delicious as it looks and you grab a second one before you pick up the note that came with them. 

It's a double folded piece of paper, so thick it almost looks like part of a canvas. On the inside a note is scribbled in a looped, flowing handwriting. 

“Next time I’m asking you on a date, baker girl /D” 

Part Two

If you want to make Dieter's Millionaire's Shortbread, here's the recipe I used.

[lipglossanon]

Calling Dr. Love

*.*——— 🩺 ———*.*

For waterfalls04 who requested Dr. Leon eons ago 🫣 Thank you for your patience!! I hope you enjoy it! 💜

Doctor!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, doctor/patient, dubcon (reader’s into it!), flirting, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie; also a fun little Silent Hill cameo 🤭

Not proofread ✌️

Title from Calling Dr. Love by KISS

*.*——— 🩺 ———*.*

You fiddle with your phone for the upteenth time in the short span of a few minutes. The signal is still stuck at one bar and the wifi is down according to the receptionist. Sighing, you grab one of the magazines left lying out on the small table near your chair and idly flip through it. 

It’s just a routine checkup, you think to yourself, nothing crazy. The anxiety of being in a doctor's office doesn’t abate at all, making your leg bounce as you skim through articles on housekeeping that do not hold your attention. 

“Ma’am, can you sign a couple of papers for me?” The receptionist calls out, a polite smile on her face. 

You glance down at her name tag before giving her a quick smile, “No problem, Lisa.”

You step up to the counter and she points out the few lines you need to initial before signing your name along with the date at the bottom. As you repeat the process on the other pages of paperwork, you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. 

A tall and handsome man is leaning against the counter you're at; his attention is on the other receptionist as Lisa is still busy helping you out. Quickly giving the man, who you can only assume is a doctor due to his attire, a subtle once over, you feel a mild attraction flutter in your chest but push it away. 

“I think you’re my one o’clock, right?”

You feel as he shifts closer to you, hip still braced against the counter as he props his chin up on his palm, elbow seated on the surface next to your paperwork. He’s so close you catch a whiff of sharp coffee and notes of a cologne that makes you want to press your face in his chest. 

Glancing up, you make eye contact, gaze flitting around his sharp cheekbones and pouty lips before meeting his blue eyes once more. 

“Are you Dr. Kennedy?” 

He grins, eyes crinkling and making him look boyish and sweet, “That’s me! I’m new on staff and since your primary doctor is on vacation, I’ll be the one seeing you today.”

You bite your bottom lip out of nervousness and feel your heart thump harder when his eyes track the movement, pupils widening. Letting go of your lip, his eyes jump back up to yours. 

“Is that okay?” His eyes are darker than before and you can feel your palms sweat. 

“U-uh, yeah. That’s f-fine with me,” you finally stutter out, giving him a weak laugh. 

“Good,” his smile widens, “a little nervous?”

You nod, pen hovering over the line for your name, “Yeah, always a little nervous at the doctor’s office.”

He rubs a warm palm down your bicep, “No need to be, I promise you’re in good hands.”

Your nipples stiffen in your bra as his big hand pats your arm.

Dropping his arm back down, his fingers skim across your side leaving chill bumps in their wake. He crowds a little more into your space and your eyes dart around to the receptionists, but they’re completely oblivious to what’s happening.

You peek at him from the corner of your eye and see that he’s reading over your paperwork. 

“Since it’s just a routine checkup, we can start out in my office and if it seems you need a physical, we’ll move it into a room,” he murmurs at you, low voice making your clit throb in time with your heartbeat. 

“Sounds g-good,” you busy yourself by finishing the last of the signatures. 

He clears his throat, “I can take her back now, if that’s okay, Lisa?”

Lisa walks over and scans your paperwork before nodding, “Sounds good,” she gives you another smile, “you’re all squared away!”

You thank her and follow Leon, eyes taking note of his shoulder blades pressing through his white coat showcasing his broad back. Your panties stick uncomfortably to your wet pussy making you self conscious as Leon holds open his office door for you to enter first. 

You take in the sparse decorations and potted plant in the corner. His desk holds a computer and a day calendar with a cork board behind it all tacked with dozens of pages and sticky notes. 

He points to two stiff looking chairs in front of his desk.

“We’ll just have a little chat before we get started with taking your blood pressure and temperature and all that,” he smiles and you return it. 

“I find it helps put nervous patients at ease when you just talk before jumping right into the appointment.”

Your smile softens as you both take a seat, with him sitting next to you, “Thank you, Dr. Kennedy. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem,” he pats your bare leg from where your skirt rode up, fingers subtly digging into the skin.  

Your heart rate kicks up again, skin tingling as he keeps his hand on your leg, dangerously close to your thigh. 

“So how are you?” His thumb rubs back and forth, “didn’t have any problems coming in?”

“Um, good. I’m good! And n-no, even parking was easy this time,” you nervously giggle, cunt pulsing as his hand squeezes your leg. 

“Good, that’s good,” he smiles, “I know it can be a bitch finding somewhere close some days.”

You laugh weakly before biting your lip as his hand shifts upward a little more, long fingers gripping your thigh now. 

“You seem tense,” he murmurs, gaze locked on where his hand is rubbing your leg, “lot of tense muscles here.”

“Guess it’s just nerves,” you squeak out, body feeling hot as he massages your thigh.

“That just won’t do,” he grins at you, fingers digging in more roughly and making you whine, “poor thing, must feel so nice to get some attention on this muscle.”

You nod, pussy flooding your panties with slick to the point it’s leaking through the fabric. 

“Pull that skirt up,” he tells you firmly, “it’ll help me get a better look at the issue.”

With shaky hands, you grab the hem of your skirt and tug it up, embarrassment making your chest feel hot as your soaked panties come into view. 

“Oh, now I see,” he rumbles low in his chest, “I know exactly what the problem is.”

His hand leaves your thigh to swipe across the gusset of your panties, thumb digging into your wet slit. 

“Pussy needs some attention, huh,” he smirks, “is this the whole reason for your appointment?”

“No,” you whimper, parting your legs even further for his greedy fingers to run across your clothed cunt, “Dr. Kennedy, please.”

He groans, pushing your panties to the side to slide his fingers through the slick covering your pussy lips. His middle and ring finger slip into your cunt fluttering against your walls as he scissors you open. 

“Can barely pull my fingers out,” he teases, “little pussy just keeps sucking them right back in. You feeling that good, gorgeous?”

Panting, you nod your head, “F-feels really good.”

A low moan escapes your lips as he starts fucking his fingers in and out of your pussy, palm smacking against your clit just right and making your toes curl in their shoes. 

“Want me to stuff my cock in your cute pussy?” Leon leers at you, using his free hand to unbutton his slacks, “promise it’ll feel even better than my fingers.”

You whine when you see him pull his thick, uncut cock free from his underwear, mouth watering at the precum glistening on the tip. 

“Please,” you finally whisper, eyes dragging up his body to meet his heavy gaze, “wanna feel it.”

He slips his fingers free from your pussy leaving your hole clenching around nothing. 

“Get on the floor,” he demands, pulling your panties down, “gonna stuff this fat cunt like she deserves.”

You shift from the chair to the floor, kicking your shoes off and nearly getting your underwear off— leaving them to hang around one ankle while Leon moves himself between your thighs. 

He smacks his fat cock down onto your clit making your hips buck upwards. Teasingly, he presses the leaky tip into your pussy before pulling away to rub across your pussy lips. You lock your ankles behind his back and he chuckles, finally pressing his dick into your sopping wet cunt. 

“Oh you’re so tight,” he groans excitedly, “and wet. You really needed this, didn’t you, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh,” you whine, legs locked around his waist so tight he can only grind his cock inside your fluttering cunt, “needed it.”

“What did ya need?” His pupils have swallowed most of the blue in his eyes, “say it. Tell me you needed a fat cock to fuck your hot wet cunt.”

You moan, pussy throbbing as he ruts against that sweet spot at the front of your cunt, “Oh, I needed it. Need your fat cock in my pussy, Dr. Kennedy.”

He humps forward, burying his face in your neck with a moan as his cock kicks inside your clenching heat. 

“So good for me,” he grunts, hands digging into your hips, “gonna fill you up, cum all in this pretty pussy.”

Your nails scratch a hot trail down his back as you gasp. 

“You can’t,” you whimper out, cunt leaking more slick at the thought of this handsome man stuffing you with cum, “we shouldn’t.”

He laughs, slipping his hand down your hip until his thumb rubs across the hood of your clit. 

“You say that, but you squeezed me so deliciously when I mentioned it,” he rubs soft barely there circles on your pudgy bud, “trust me, I know what you need. I’m your doctor.”

You keen high in your throat, hips bucking up to work his cock even deeper into your spasming hole. 

“Thatta girl,” he coos, rocking his dick in and out of your messy cunt, “such a drippy little pussy,” he smirks, “needs a hot load to plug her up, make her feel all nice and full.”

You nod, shamelessly rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts, “Need it so bad, Doctor.”

“I know,” he simpers down at you, a mean little smile coming over his face, “think you’ll have to come in at least twice a week. Gotta keep that pussy in check.”

He pulls out completely making you moan at how empty your cunt feels without his thick cock splitting you open. Smacking the tip of his cock down on your pussy, he laughs at your whining. 

“Roll over, gonna fuck you like the dirty slut you are,” he helps you onto your hands and knees, slapping a palm down on your ass. 

He whistles to himself, “What a view. Y’know, you seem like a girl who’d like it doggy; a little slut who likes her hair pulled as her messy cunt gets pounded from the back.”

Your moan turns into a gasp as he bottoms out in one thrust, hips slapping against your ass while his balls smack your clit. 

“Oh that’s it,” he groans, hips gripping the fat of your ass tightly, “gonna pound your little pussy so hard, gorgeous. Gonna bust a nut all in this tight hole.”

You shudder and drop down onto your elbows, “S’good, so good.”

He doesn’t even give you time to adjust and starts up a rough tempo, cock pistoning in and out of your soaked pussy. His balls slap against your clit as wet sloppy sounds of him fucking your drippy hole fills his office. 

“Take it, take it,” he hisses under his breath, “god, such a fat and juicy pussy, baby, got me thinking about the next time we can do this.”

Drooling all over his office carpet, you weakly moan, body bouncing back against his rough thrusts. He reaches around and lightly taps his ring finger across your clit making you clench down hard around his dick. 

“Oh yeah,” he laughs, “squeeze me, soak my cock so I can nut in this pussy.”

Your pussy flutters and clenches rhythmically around his cock as he teases and plays with your clit until you’re cumming so hard you see fireworks behind your eyelids. He keeps rubbing your clit as your orgasm crests, keeping you at the peak of pleasure until your body is jittering underneath him. 

“Feels so good,” he pants, cock bullying in and out of your pussy, the sound of skin slapping getting rougher and louder, “keep clenching on me, I’m about to cum. Oh fuck, that’s it, that’s—“

He groans long and loud as he shoves his cock deep inside your pussy as you continue to milk his fat length. Shooting off hot rope after rope of cum, his sticky jizz paints your walls white until it’s slipping out alongside his throbbing dick. You feel his cock kick and spurt inside your used pussy until he finally pulls out with a growl. 

His long fingers pull your pussy open to watch as his spend drips from your clenching hole. 

“Mmm, now that’s hot,” he murmurs, waiting until more globs of cum ooze from your pussy to drip down your thighs.

He slips your panties up until it’s sitting snugly on your sticky pussy. Helping you up on shaky legs, he grins at your messy face. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up before we schedule a follow up appointment with Lisa, eh?”

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 10

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Implied smut, angst. Read the tags if you're especially sensitive to certain triggers. I don't want to put them here because they're sort of spoilers.

Word Count: 4,698

A/N: Here's Ch. 10. I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Soft snow drifted slowly past the window, white lace against an inky black sky. The world was muffled, and it felt like there was only the two of them in all existence. 

Y/N loved these moments. She wished they could last longer.

But their first week together was almost over and she could feel the vice-like grip that time had on her life. 

They'd been out and about, all over New York and she loved it. But these were still her favorite moments - when the world slept, and time slowed. 

She laid on her side, stretched out and naked beside Dean. She was propped up on her elbow, her cheek resting in her palm. 

Dean dozed lightly as she ran her free hand up and down his torso. He was covered to his waist with the blanket, leaving the wide expanse of his chest and the flat of his stomach exposed for her to run her fingers over.

As she brought her fingertip up to trace over his lips, Dean's breathing changed and his eyes fluttered open. When he saw her staring down at him, his eyes closed again and a sleepy smile pulled up the corners of his mouth.

“Why are you staring at me?” He asked in a voice rough with sleep.

Y/N shrugged and ran the tips of her fingers over his cheekbone and down his jaw. “I don't know, you're just pretty, I guess.”

Dean's smile grew wider and he turned his head slightly so he could kiss her knuckles as she slid them across his scruffy cheeks.

“Well, then by all means, continue.” His words were slightly muffled against her fingers.

His eyelids fluttered open again and Y/N sighed deeply at the site of his stunning emerald gaze. He wasn't pretty, he was beautiful - the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, easily.

Dean quirked an eyebrow. “What's going on inside that mysterious mind of yours?” He asked softly.

Not wanting to admit that she'd simply been swooning over him, she smiled teasingly. 

“I was just thinking that there's an awful lot I still don't know about you. I have questions.”

Dean rolled his eyes playfully. “And you've decided the best time to ask me these questions is at,” he looked at the clock on the wall, but couldn't make out the numbers in the darkened room, “at this ungodly hour of the night? When I'm exhausted?” He finished.

Y/N grinned. “Yep.”

When Dean just shook his head with an indulgent smile, Y/N launched into her questions.

“When is your birthday?”

“January 24th.”

“Ooh, it's coming up.” 

Dean shrugged and nodded. “Soon enough.”

Y/N put a finger to her lips, thinking. “Mmm…what's your favorite meal?”

Dean thought for a moment. “Steak and potatoes. Medium rare.” He held up a finger. “Uh, the steak, not the potatoes.” He clarified.

Y/N chuckled. “Good choice.” She paused for a second. “Have you ever been in love?”

Dean's surprise showed on his face before his expression darkened and he pulled away from her, sitting up against the headboard. He shook his head and his tone attempted to be teasing, but didn't quite make it. 

“You went from steak and potatoes to love?” He said the word with a hint of a sneer and shook his head again. 

“No.”

“How do you know?” Y/N asked, aware by his expression that she was on thin ice, but desperately wanting an answer.

“I know because I know.” When Y/N opened her mouth again, he cut her off. “Next question.” He said firmly.

Disappointed, but realizing that was all the answer she was going to get, she moved on, sitting up as well, and tucking the blanket around her nakedness to guard from the chill. Without Dean's warmth, she got cold quickly.

“Um…what kind of student were you?”

Dean's tightly stretched smile softened a little and he shrugged. 

“An unruly one. Sammy was the good student; he was the one who loved school.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I left school when I was thirteen to work.”

Y/N frowned. “That's awfully young.”

He shrugged and his tone was a little too nonchalant. “I like my work.”

“Still, it's a shame you didn't have more time.”

Dean’s brow wrinkled. “Time for what?”

“To be young.” Y/N said, her tone sympathetic.

Dean shook his head. “I'm good.”

Y/N was going to ask more questions, but suddenly Dean pushed up to his knees and used his weight to shove Y/N backwards onto the mattress. 

He reached between them to yank away her blanket, but it didn't matter; she didn't need it with his warm skin and searching fingers back to heat her up.

As he pressed hot kisses down her body, Y/N gasped. “I thought you were exhausted.”

He smiled wolfishly as he moved back up to claim her mouth. He slid his fingers up through the slick wetness that was pooling between her legs, making her suck in a breath as he ended the kiss.

“I'll sleep when I'm dead.”

***

The next morning, they were both exhausted. Dean slept later than he'd meant to and woke up running. 

He came out of the washroom as he tied his red and blue striped tie around his throat.

“Oh, there's a friendly poker game this evening that I'd like us to attend. It's being held in the private back room at Gladwell's Gaming Hall. It's being organized by the group at Northern Freight, but men from Clearwater will be there too along with others. There's going to be a lot of business happening amongst us, so I probably won't be much company.”

He finished tying his tie and darted back into the bathroom, his voice rising so he could still be heard.

“But I think it's important you come, so we can keep up the facade of a social gathering anyway. Other women will come with some of the men, I'm sure.”

“But not wives.” The words were out of Y/N's mouth before she could stop them, but she wished she could take them back immediately. 

Of course not, you fool. Y/N thought angrily at herself. You think these men are going to invite their wives to a gaming hall?

There was silence from the bathroom for a moment and then Dean came out, brushing something from the sleeve of his perfectly tailored dark blue suit.

“No,” he said quietly. “Not wives.”

Y/N shook her head and smiled widely, trying to dispel the awkwardness surrounding them.

“Alright, I'll be ready for seven?”

Dean nodded, walking towards her and bending to kiss her lips briefly. “Good.” He cleared his throat. “See ya.”

He left the room and Y/N felt her stomach sink. The prospect of the gathering didn't fill her with excitement, but she tried to put it out of her mind, reassuring herself with the words she'd been using a lot recently.

It will be fine.

***

By ten o’clock Y/N felt sick to her stomach, and all she wanted was to escape back to the night before, and the soft peace to be found in the dark.

The evening had started well enough. She'd worn a pale pink gown, with a pink and cream striped bodice that was cut in a way that complimented her figure well. The gown had short sleeves which Y/N paired with a pair of long, cream-colored evening gloves.

Dean's eyes glowed when he saw her, and that was enough to make Y/N very pleased with her choice.

Dean had said the party was taking place in a “back room”, which led Y/N to imagine a small, smoke-filled parlor with dingy lighting and yellow walls. She should have known better.

Instead, the “backroom" was the size of a small ballroom. There were seven or eight poker tables set up at one end of the room, and a light buffet and bar at the other. Throughout the evening, food and drinks were served liberally. 

All over the room were pockets of couches, chairs and settees for the women, and occasionally the men, to recline on. They were welcomed into the room by George Taskett, the president of Northern Rail and Freight. 

Y/N knew this was the man Dean was hoping to win over and that it would mean a lot for his business (and by extension, his employees) if he could impress the white-haired gentleman. So, she worked hard to be as friendly and charming as possible when she met him. 

He was a lively older man, easily in his late sixties, but still sharp and engaging. His bright blue eyes twinkled as he gave a slight bow over the hand Y/N held out to him.

“What a charming companion, Mr. Winchester, a lovely addition to our party.” He said smoothly.

Y/N blushed at the compliment which only seemed to delight the gentleman further.

Their conversation was interrupted, however, by Byron Temple, the vice-president of the company. Unlike George Taskett, Y/N knew this man frustrated Dean completely, and she immediately understood why. The man gave off a very unsettling quality. His stare was too intense as he raked it up and down her form. His smile seemed oily when he shared it.

“Indeed, Winchester,” Temple said, picking up the thread of Taskett’s comment, “where have you been hiding such a beautiful bloom?”

Where Taskett's compliment had felt genuine and kind, Temple's was cloaked in something dark that made Y/N step slightly closer to Dean.

The man continued to stare at her, licking his lips before addressing Dean again. “I believe I know what you were doing when you thrice canceled our meetings. Who would want to talk about boring business matters with something so delectable just waiting for them to get home?”

Y/N felt Dean stiffen beside her and take a step towards Temple. But George Taskett spoke before he could.

“You forget yourself, Byron.”

It was clear who was the real power at Northern Freight because Byron was instantly full of apologies.

“No disrespect meant. I just think you'd be a hard woman to ignore.”

Taskett smoothed things over by introducing Y/N to some of the other women, including a beautiful woman with chestnut hair and pale blue eyes that he introduced as his “dear friend”, Viola.

“They'll keep you company while we men gamble away our good fortune and sense.”

Viola patted Taskett’s arm. “Win big, Georgie.”

Taskett seemed slightly embarrassed to be addressed like a six year old schoolboy in short pants. But nevertheless he kissed his companion’s hand and moved over to the poker tables. 

Dean kissed Y/N's cheek and gave her a wink before he followed.

Unfortunately, Y/N’s shy nature didn’t serve her well when it came to getting acquainted with the women she went to sit with. Most of them seemed to know each other already and chatted easily together. The conversation began innocently enough - what they thought the new fashions were going to look like in 1901, where they thought the hemlines and waistlines were bound to fall.

They discussed the latest issue of Harper's Bazaar and exchanged some stories and anecdotes about acquaintances known to them all. Though she wasn’t joining in, it was an interesting enough conversation to keep Y/N invested and listening, nodding along quietly.

However, as the evening wore on and the wine, champagne, and sherry kept flowing, the women began to loosen their tongues and things soon became a little crass and then a lot carnal.

The women's voices fell as they began discussing some of the men in the room, as well as others they'd known that weren't present. Eventually nothing seemed off limits. The women began comparing their lovers’ techniques and stamina as well as the size of their bank accounts and…other things. 

Y/N was trying desperately to fade into the background, but she knew her face was turning bright red as she listened. She now knew more about the men sitting around the tables than she ever wanted to.

Amanda, a blonde woman with small gray eyes which she rolled in annoyance, explained her lover's biggest flaws. “Grant farts every time he comes. It's completely disgusting and will rip me away from anything close to a climax.”

The women all laughed. “But,” she added, “I've never had a man demand so little of me. You know, he's perfectly content to just let me lay there while he enjoys himself. So, I can't complain.”

“Thomas really spoils me.” A woman named Celia boasted loudly over the end of Amanda's sentence. “When I saw this simply exquisite cameo in the window of Francois’, he insisted on buying it for me.”

A dark haired woman named Doris scoffed. “Of course he spoils you. It's the only way to combat his fat stomach and bald head.”

The circle of women laughed again, though Celia was unimpressed. Y/N tried to smile, hoping to stay out of things, happy to be ignored. But Doris quickly turned her flashing black eyes in her direction.

“This one on the other hand,” she said, pointing a long skinny finger at Y/N, “has landed the cream of the crop!” 

Y/N just smiled and nodded again, hoping someone else would pick up the conversation. But all eyes turned to her.

Viola spoke up. “Yes, how did you hook him? Doris has been after him for years without a nibble.” 

It was Doris’ turn to frown as the women chuckled. She scowled at Y/N and then lifted her nose. “Doesn’t matter. I'll get another chance soon enough. We all know Dean Winchester changes women like he changes his socks. Isn't that right, Faye?”

She caught the eye of a plump woman whose curly blonde hair couldn't possibly be her own. Faye smiled wickedly. “Best month of my life! I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” She sighed dramatically. “But he never goes back to his previous women.” She looked at Y/N and wagged a finger. “So, take my advice, darling, enjoy every minute.”

The women all nodded knowingly and began pestering her and Faye for details about Dean. Coming to her rescue, Viola cut them off. 

“Yep, gotta hold onto those good ones that’s for sure.”

She launched into a story about the first man to take her in; she explained that she’d been a stage actress when she was young and he’d discovered her there. 

Most of the other women seemed to know the story well, because they broke off into other conversations amongst themselves. But Y/N was transfixed by Viola's words; they made her stomach tighten in a very unpleasant way.

“He just plucked me from the stage. He said I was too beautiful to be ‘hoofing it for the masses’, as he put it. Swept me away to his country estate.”

She shrugged. “It may have been a little boring out in the country, but it was rich and lush. It was heaven. Then wouldn't you know it - wife shows up, screeching like a mad woman and chucks me out of the house, not a cent in my pocket.”

The women listening along with Y/N, commiserated as Viola shook her head. “Don't be fooled by pretty words girls,” she said wisely, “get those rocks up front.”

A few minutes later, some of the women began pairing off with their men, most of whom needed cheering up, having had poor luck at the tables. Y/N looked over to see Dean still sitting casually in his chair, a fat pile of chips in front of him. It would be some time before he left the table.

For a little while, she sat on her own, trying to digest everything she'd heard, and slipping what she hoped were discreet looks in Faye’s direction. 

What had her relationship been like with Dean? What had she done with him? 

A sarcastic voice popped into her mind. 

Well, I bet she wasn't denying him access to anything; and very likely, she wasn't trying to hang on to her virginity by not letting him bed her properly.

Y/N felt her cheeks burn, partly from embarrassment at her thoughts and partly in a completely irrational, jealous rage at Faye-the-fake-blonde. Y/N tried to stop, reminding herself that Faye had been perfectly cordial to her and that she was being uncharitable. But logic and rationality weren't readily available to her at that moment.

Eventually, Y/N gained some company when Viola crossed the room and grabbed up her hand, pulling her over to sit on a small settee in the corner. She patted Y/N's hand as she let it go. 

“I just wanted to make sure that you weren't upset or bothered by what Doris or Faye had to say; Faye is old news to Dean, I'm sure, and Doris is just jealous.”

Y/N shook her head; she didn't want to talk about any of it. “No, it's fine.”

Viola smiled knowingly. “You have to understand where they’re coming from; you scored the prize bull your first time at the rodeo.” She arched a brow. “This is your first time at the rodeo, isn’t it?”

Y/N shrugged, not sure how to answer that. But Viola nodded, coming to her own conclusions. “Being new to the life can be exciting and a little scary, I know. But I meant what I said earlier. Be cautious. From everything I've heard, Dean is incredibly generous. Take advantage of that, because you don't know what the next one will be like.”

She lifted her hand. “Not that I'm saying you shouldn't enjoy yourself.” She reassured her, sighing in much the same way Faye had, very wistfully.

“I suppose we're all a little jealous of you, even me.” She shook her head. “I don't think there's a girl in here who wouldn't happily drop to her knees and give that man anything he wanted if he said he'd take her.”

When Y/N just stared at her, Viola put a hand over her mouth and giggled lightly.

“Gosh, you really are new, aren't you? Don't worry, you'll fit in soon enough.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper and she spoke behind her hand. “But you've just got to tell me. Is he as good in bed as everyone says?”

“I…uh - I don't…” Y/N stuttered, completely at a loss for how to answer that.

Viola gave Y/N a conspiratorial look. “Making him wait a bit, are you?” 

Y/N just sputtered some more, but Viola wasn’t paying attention. “Word to the wise when it comes to that tactic. It can work really well. Men love the ‘innocent flower’ act, and you can string them along for quite a while that way, and reap all the benefits.” 

She held up a finger in warning. “But you can't deny them too often, can't do it for too long, or they get angry and lose interest. Make sure you're timing things right.”

For another thirty minutes Viola went on, giving Y/N tricks of the trade and unsolicited advice. Y/N appreciated the sentiment, but it wasn’t helping her nausea.

“Take my Georgie,” Viola said with an affectionate look in his direction, “he can't get it up anymore which is a shame, but he spoils me a lot to make up for it. And you've gotta play the hand you’ve been given. My apartment on Bleeker is an awful lot nicer than what Celia has. Thomas can barely manage to put her up in a one room flat on 78th Street.”

She shrugged delicately. “But, she too is playing the hand she was dealt, because it's still a big step up from where she was when he found her.” She shook her head. “Some leaky mess on Channing.”

Viola gave Celia a pitying look. “I hope she's smarter this time around when Thomas goes looking again. Hope she watches her money and finds a good buyer for that cameo he bought for her, so it lasts her till the next man comes along.”

Throughout all of Viola's advice, Y/N couldn't seem to come up with appropriate reactions or facial expressions. In the end she just felt herself go blank and numb.

She knew Viola was trying to be kind, trying to give her advice, help her fit in, as she said. But Y/N felt sick at the way she talked about jumping from man to man like it was nothing.

No, Y/N thought to herself, it's not nothing. 

According to Viola, it was everything - the ability to find a new man when this one dropped you.

Finally seeming to catch on to some of Y/N's upset, Viola patted her arm.

“Oh, sweetie, don't worry. Like I said, Dean is incredibly generous to his women. And a pretty little, innocent looking thing like you,” she shook her head, “you'll get snatched up quick when Dean is done.”

Y/N had no response; she just nodded. “Thank you.” She said huskily, praying this conversation was over. 

Very thankfully, she saw Dean making his way over to her. Viola patted her hand again and rose, smiling coquettishly at Dean as she passed him. Dean's face was content and happy as he approached Y/N. 

“All in all, I'd say this was a very productive evening. Managed some good talks with Taskett, all while emptying Temple’s pockets.” He said with a wide grin.

Y/N smiled lightly. “That's good.” 

Dean frowned a little. “Is everything alright?”

Y/N nodded, not wanting to burst the bubble of his evening, and really not wanting to describe hers. 

“Oh, yes, just tired. Late night, long day.”

Dean lost his frown and smiled. “Yes, absolutely. Would you like to go now?”

Y/N hoped her frantic nod didn't seem too eager.

“Alright, I'll ask for our coats.” He strode away to speak with someone, but as he walked out of ear shot, she felt a presence come up behind her. 

She turned and started slightly as Byron Temple appeared at her elbow.

He snickered lightly. “I'm sorry, Miss - Taylor, was it? I didn't mean to frighten you.”

She wanted to tell him that he was a liar; everything about him said he was there to put her on edge. He stood too close and he dipped his head too low when he spoke. She could smell the brandy on his breath and wanted to step back, but that would mean falling onto the settee.

So, she merely smiled and shook her head. “No, it's fine, sir, you didn't frighten me.”

His eyes lit up. “I like the way you say sir.” Again he raked her up and down with his gaze. He leaned imperceptibly closer and spoke very low. 

“You can call me that again, as soon as Winchester sets you aside. Then you’ll come stay with me and learn what it's like to be fucked by a real man.” His breath was hot against her neck as he lingered a moment before he slithered back the way he came. 

Y/N felt dizzy, like she might pass out. 

Or scream. Or run at the disgusting man and scratch his eyes out.

But Dean showed up at her side to help her into her coat, and she remembered that Temple was someone he was supposed to do business with; she couldn't cause a scene.

So for the hundredth time that night, she smiled when she wanted to cry and let Dean escort her away from it all. 

***

She knew she was too quiet on the carriage ride home. Dean asked her twice if everything was alright. Both times, she answered that she was just tired.

She knew he didn't fully believe her. When they got back to the hotel, he helped her out of her dress and corset, but before he could do anything more, she moved into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

She splashed cold water on her face, but she emerged still feeling ill. She'd changed into one of her new nightgowns, a long, lace and silk garment with a dressing gown to match. She tied the glossy belt around her waist as she entered the room, and Dean paused as he was removing his tie to give her a low whistle. 

“Huh. I think I get you naked too quickly when we get home every evening. Need to let you put on these beautiful things so I can take them off you.”

He came up behind her as she tucked away her evening gloves in the wardrobe drawers. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her cheek, placing soft kisses along her neck.

Her body responded immediately; her stomach fluttered, and she could feel her nipples harden against the silk of her nightgown.

But she still felt sick from her evening - heartsick and unsure of everything, and it stopped her from melting into him completely. Dean noticed quickly and turned her gently in his arms. 

He cupped her cheeks and let his thumbs sweep across her cheekbones. “Do you just want to sleep?”

Viola's voice came back into her mind.

“...But you can't deny them too often, can't do it for too long, or they get angry and lose interest…”

What rules came along with the role of mistress? Could she just go to sleep? Her thoughts were a whirling mess as she looked up at Dean, questioning. 

“Is that allowed?”

He pulled back from her slightly. “Allowed?” He asked a little hesitantly.

“I don't know the rules.”

Dean frowned. “The rules about sleeping?” 

Y/N paused for a breath. “About saying no.”

Dean's eyes widened and he stepped away from her completely. His expression was incredulous. 

He raised his hand and pointed a finger at her. “You wanna know the rules…” He paused briefly. “... about saying no to…me.”

Y/N shrugged; her head was aching. “I'm just curious.”

Dean's jaw ticked. “Curious. About whether or not you're allowed to refuse me.”

Y/N folded her arms across her chest. Anger she couldn't explain began rising in her chest.

“Well, strictly speaking…I mean, you're paying for everything, paying for me, so doesn't that make me an employee? Don't I have to do what I'm paid for?”

For a flash Dean looked like she'd slapped him. “Jesus Christ.” He said, hoarsely. 

After a beat, the hurt in his eyes melted away to be replaced by anger. 

“You really need to ask me whether you're ALLOWED to say no, or whether I'll just say ‘too bad’ and force you?”

His anger bolstered her own. Everything was confusing and she was exhausted and all she wanted was to cry on Dean's shoulder. But instead she balled her hands into fists and gritted her teeth before speaking. 

“That's a little dramatic, I'm not talking about you forcing me.”

Dean spoke loudly over the end of her sentence. “That's exactly what you're talking about, Y/N. If I try to bed you and you say no, and I just take you against your will?” He threw up his hands. “Y/N, that's the goddamn definition of rape!” He ended on a shout and Y/N felt tears prick the backs of her eyes.

Dean spun away from her and swiped his hand down his face. When he slowly turned back to face her his voice and his expression were cold. 

“Fine then, the rule is as follows; in the future, when you're not interested in having me touch you, all you have to do is say no. And trust in the fact that I'm not going to just ignore your wishes and molest you.”

He grabbed up his coat from where he'd tossed it on the green chair. “You’re tired. So I'll leave and let you sleep.” His green eyes were as hard as jade as he stared at her a moment, before looking at the ground. “Goodnight.”

He walked out the door, and Y/N half expected him to slam it. But he closed it quietly, taking away her anger and leaving her with nothing but a ticking clock and a battered heart.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

@waywardcheshire

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2