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broadstbroskis · 3 years ago

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take my hand, wreck my plans | william nylander

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

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

word count: 21.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This was a setup?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aubrey grins. “Gladly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steph frowns back. “What?”

“What what?”

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

“Why would we?”

“Because he’s perfect for you?”

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

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

“No!”

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

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

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

-----

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

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

Aubrey gasps as Steph laughs. “Rude!”

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

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

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

hi mitch. She sends back.

lol. Comes the response. sorry.

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

time and fucking place. She replies.

-----

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

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

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

Will laughs. “So it’s like that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Should what?” Will frowns.

“Give them a taste of their own medicine.”

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

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

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

-----

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

“What?” Steph repeats. “Seriously?”

Aubrey laughs. “Use your words, Stephanie.”

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

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

“I hate you so much.”

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

sure, what’s up?

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

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

“Of my office?” She blurts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So find a dress.” Aubrey sums up.

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

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

“Deal.”

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That younger siblings are actual monsters.”

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

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

“Shots fired.” Steph nudges him.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes! Coffee on the way?”

“Obviously!”

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ohh, me too!” Cam realizes.

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

-----

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

Kaylee shrugs. “I forgot to pack them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will’s here?”

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

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

“Hi.” She returns, smiling at him.

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

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

“Nope!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aubrey nods. “Yeah. Pretty good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pretty good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

Will Nylander: ….holy shit cam was serious

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

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

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

Will Nylander: haha what??

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

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

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

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

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

Will Nylander: i fucked up, sorry

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

“Well I was planning on wearing them!”

“Well you didn’t say that!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I never wear them together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“-we ate at this amazing sushi place-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.”

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

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

“Do you have an hour?” Will drawls.

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

“Any wine?”

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will laughs. “What?”

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair, it was definitely a risk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Supremely* comfortable. Told you so 😜

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um.” Will starts.

“Sorry.” Aub hastens, flushing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He raises an eyebrow. “You think so?”

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

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

It’s a rare gift.

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aub, we shouldn’t- we aren’t-”

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

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

-----

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

It’s really just unfair.

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

“Hi.” She smiles.

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

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

He groans. “I have to go. Skate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fastest skate ever.” He repeats.

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dumb jersey?” Will nudges her.

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

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

Mitch feigns gagging. “There are children around.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aubrey frowns. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if they stop hooking up.

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

“This is Aubrey.” Will introduces.

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

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

She loves them immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will!” She laughs, as he gently pinches a ticklish spot.

“Shh!” He’s grinning, she hates him so much. “My parents are-”

“Don’t say it.” She says, surging up to kiss him so he can’t finish that sentence. God, she hopes his walls are thick.

-----

“Stop.” Aubrey hears Will right outside the door. “Go away.”

She can hear one of his sister’s respond, but the actual words get lost in the chaos of her own sisters’ FaceTime, which she’s wrapping up as she lies in bed. It’s loud enough outside that she knows Will’s family is awake already, bright enough that she probably should get up, but she’s too comfortable to make herself move.

“Daniella!” She hears, followed by something in Swedish just as the door opens and a blonde head pokes in.

“See! She is awake!” And that’s all the warning she gets before Daniella is jumping up right next to her.

“Daniella!” Will snaps again, but Aubrey’s already sliding over to make room for her.

“She’s fine.” She assures him, wrapping her arm around Daniella��s shoulders as she cuddles in close.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Daniella says to her brother, not bothering to pull herself away from Aubrey’s iPhone screen, where she’d barely wasted a minute before jumping into chatting with Kayls and Cam.

Will’s leaning against the dresser and shaking his head in amusement, watching as Aubrey manages to finish up her call (a task much harder with Daniella in her ear, calling just as much nonsense back as her sisters do), but there’s a soft smile on his face that Aubrey almost can’t bring herself to look at, so she starts twirling her hand through the ends of Daniella’s hair.

“I can’t believe you two.” Daniella huffs, and she’s so much like Will, just loving her hair played with; Aubrey tries to hide her grin because she knows he’d fight her on it if she had to say it out loud right now. “Not even inviting your sisters here for the weekend.”

“Why would we invite ourselves into that kind of roast?” Will says dryly. “The two of you are bad enough.”

“Like you’re not going to talk about us anyway,” Aubrey adds. “I’ve seen the receipts.” She teases. “I know you talk about us on instagram.”

“You talk about us on instagram?” Will demands immediately.

“No.” Daniella says, unconvincingly.

“They talk with my sisters every day.” Aubrey whispers to him and laughs when he turns his outraged face toward his sister, who avoids his gaze completely.

“Seriously?” Will cries.

Daniella shrugs. “We have a lot to say.”

“I’ll give you a lot to say.” Will says, mock-threateningly, before throwing himself on the bed on her other side and poking his finger in her side until she’s laughing so hard that she’s begging for him to stop. He does, after one last poke, which Daniella returns with a pout. “Go get dressed.” Will nudges her. “Or Aubrey’s going to go to brunch without you.”

“Aubrey wouldn’t do that.” Daniella says confidently, standing to leave. “She’s nicer than you.”

Will barks out a laugh. “Is she?”

Both Nylanders turn to look at her, just as she’s swinging her legs out of bed and Aubrey shrugs. “I wouldn’t leave your sister behind.” She says, grinning when Will laughs and Daniella’s got her phone out of her pocket before she even leaves the room.

-----

Will and Alex are close. Aubrey knows this. She knows they talk pretty much everyday whether it’s texting, Facetiming, or even actual phone calls. They’re brothers, sure, but more than that; they’re best friends.

And maybe that’s why it’s hard not to shrink under Alex’s gaze the second they meet. It’s not that he’s not friendly when Will introduces them, returning the smile she gives him.

It’s just that his gaze feels piercing in a way that none of the rest of his family did. It feels like Alex sees through all of her but more than that; he’s studying all of her and doesn’t like what he sees.

God, she doesn’t know what she’s going to do if Alex doesn’t like her.

She tries to be bubbly and bright, more listening than contributing to this conversation that’s mostly just brothers catching up. She knows that dinner later, and at their early Christmas celebration tomorrow, will really be when she gets to make her big impression on him.

“Willy!” John Tavares calls, looking apologetic about the interruption.

“Be right back.” Willy pats her arm gently before jogging down the hall and now Alex’s full attention is on her. Now she can’t help but shift her weight from foot to foot, even as Alex smiles at her. “So, Aubrey, huh?”

She fights back the urge to bite her lip. “Yup.”

“It’s exciting to finally meet you.” He grins and Aubrey’s jaw drops a little. “Will talks about you all the time.”

“He-he does?” She asks quietly. It’s about the most unexpected thing Alex could have said to her.

Alex bursts into laughter. “Uh yeah.” He says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but before she can press anything further, Will’s back, slinging his arm around her shoulders and squeezing her into his side tightly.

“Ready for second dinner?” Will presses a kiss to her temple.

“Always.” Aubrey leans into him, ignoring the knowing look that Alex is sporting currently and the feeling in her stomach that doesn’t quite feel like butterflies.

-----

Aubrey tries to give it a few days after the Nylander’s leave town, hoping the feeling in her stomach will calm itself, but when it’s been a week and it hasn’t settled, she’s forced to admit that she’s going to need outside help.

Can you let me in? She sends, when she’s sure she’s outside the right door.

Open. Come in.

She frowns at the response, opening the door. “I don’t love that!” She calls as she walks deeper in the condo. “You should really-” She stops abruptly, as a blonde whips her head around to glare at her and Auston stares at her wide-eyed. “Oh!”

“Oh?” The blonde repeats, kind of mockingly, but also seething, and Aubrey doesn’t really know what to do, so she looks over at Auston, who’s pointedly avoiding both of their eyes. “Unbelievable.” She shakes her head, shoving past Aubrey and only when the front door slams does she hear Auston breathe.

“What the fuck?” She asks him immediately, “You could have just said no, it wasn’t a good time to come over!”

“I wanted her to leave!” He protests. “I tried everything! She even volunteered to come take Felix on a walk with me!”

Aubrey cackles, barely managing to compose herself at Auston’s glare. “Well, go and get his leash. We can walk and talk.”

She gets quickly distracted by Felix’s excitement for a walk, snapping like twenty pictures on her phone, before Auston finally prods her about the reason she even wanted to meet today. “So what’s up?”

She takes a deep breath. “Am I in love with Will?”

“Are you in love with...are you fucking kidding me?” Auston responds immediately, looking at her like he had that day they were at Sick Kids- like she’s completely missing something that everyone else knows.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” She says reasonably.

“Oh my fucking god.” He says, sounding distressed. “Don’t you have, like, a therapist for this shit? How did I get drafted for this?”

“I mean, yes, I do, but I haven’t gone into the details of it with Dr. Seth before this and I don’t think an hour would cover it.” She says; she’s thought about that already. Auston rubs his temples. “Stop that.” Aubrey chides. “Your hairline is bad enough.”

“Well you’re not helping!” Auston cries. “Jesus Christ, am I in love with Willy? Where the fuck have you been?”

“Egypt, I guess.” She says and he stares at her flatly until she explains. “Denial?”

“Fuck off, I hate you so much. Oh my god.” He groans. “Willy would have laughed so hard at that, fuck you.”

The worst thing is that she knows he would have. He’d have laughed and laughed and laughed, his eyes crinkling and his smile bright and warm, so loud that she couldn’t help but join in.

“Holy shit.” Auston says quietly, watching the smile on her face. “You’re really in deep.”

“Ugh, yes.” Aubrey groans, covering her face. “I hate it. I hate these feelings. I hate not knowing. I hate-”

Auston cuts her off, choking out a laugh. “Not knowing? Not knowing what?” And then he chokes again, once he looks over at her. “Not knowing if Will-” He stops abruptly looking like he’s got a secret that he shouldn’t be telling. “Come on, you aren’t this dumb.”

“You’re being serious?” She says quietly, looking over at Auston hopefully.

He avoids her eyes, bending down for a minute to pet his dog, but Felix absolutely betrays him by trying to run towards a new smell on a nearby bush, giving him absolutely nothing to look at instead of her. “I mean, come on.” Auston gives her a look. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Did he say it?”

“No.” Auston shakes his head, tugging gently on Felix’s leash to turn around. “But Aub, really? He brought you to meet his whole family.”

“He met mine too.” She reminds him. “And so did you!”

Auston shakes his head. “You...you just don’t see how he looks at you.”

Aubrey bites her lip, but she can’t resist asking. “How does he look at me?”

Auston doesn’t even have to think before he responds. “Like the rest of us aren’t even in the room.”

“Oh.” She says quietly, looking down at the ground. Felix is just trotting away happily, like Aubrey’s entire world hasn’t been flipped on its axis.

Auston, at least, seems to recognize the effect of what he’s said. “Look, even if you’re not ready to talk with him, just, like, look at the guy. You’re not in this alone.”

She’s definitely not ready to say anything, but, well, she could give that a try. Just try and see what Auston sees.What everyone sees apparently. “Alright.” She agrees.

“I won’t say anything.” Auston adds. “You two can figure this mess out on your own.”

“You’re the best.” Aubrey declares, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“I know.” Auston smirks, pulling Felix’s leash out from under her feet.

“Jerk.” Aubrey laughs, shoving his shoulder gently. “If you didn’t have the second best dog in the world right here, I’d push you harder.” She crouches down to scratch Felix’s ears, only for Auston to pull him out of her reach.

“Second best?” He cries, outraged. “Nuh-uh. You don’t get to pet my dog after that kind of disrespect.”

“I just ranked your dog above Zeus!” She protests. “But Pablo’s my boy.”

Auston releases his hold on the leash a little and Felix trots over toward her arms as he teases, “I thought we just agreed Willy was your boy.”

“Yeah, well,” Aubrey scratches behind Felix’s ears, smiling as his tongue lolls out. “Man’s best friend.”

-----

Will’s acting funny when Aubrey sees him the next day.

She only catches him for a few minutes before the game, when they briefly cross paths at his place when she goes to pick up a jacket she left there, and she doesn’t know how to explain it, but something just seems...off.

It’s like...he barely looks at her when she’s in there digging around what’s become her side of the bed and then he brushes past her, muttering something about how he needs to go and for her to just lock up whenever she’s done, which would be fine, except he usually waits for her if she’s around when he leaves so they can walk out together.

Something’s just off.

“Are you sure you didn’t fight about anything?” Steph frowns at her, later that night. “Even like a small, stupid thing that maybe you brushed off? Because you do that.”

“No!” Aubrey swears. “At first I thought he was just annoyed about the book, because the book I’m reading right now takes place in Sweden, so like every few pages I ask him if it’s real? Or what it’s like?”

“God, you must be the most annoying girlfriend.” Steph giggles.

“Don’t even, I know everything about you and Mitch.” Aubrey pokes her and Steph giggles again, admitting defeat. “But no! He wouldn’t even look at me! Something’s up!”

Steph purses her lips. “That is weird.” She admits. “It’s very...not Will.”

“No!” Aubrey cries. “Will doesn’t sit and let things stew! He doesn’t care enough about what people think about him for that.”

“So why is he acting like this then?” Steph asks and Aubrey blows out a frustrated breath.

“I don’t know!” She says. “And I just want him to tell me what’s going on.”

The rest of the game is fairly uneventful for the two of them, slipping quietly out of their seats after the win and chatting between themselves and a few other friends as they all wait. One by one, the boys all make their way out of the locker room, and Aubrey frowns as even Auston and John walk out, stopping briefly to chat with her, before even they go, until finally, finally, Will steps out, his face flickering when he sees her.

“Hi?” She says, a little annoyed.

“Hi.” Will says, like nothing’s just happened, like he didn’t just do a double take of the worst kind at her mere presence.

“What’s wrong?” She frowns, reaching out for him and gently sliding her hand on his forearm.

“Nothing.” There’s no other word for it; Will flinches.

“Will.” Aubrey breathes as he shrugs off her arm.

“It’s nothing.” He repeats. “I’m just tired.” Which is so clearly a lie and she frowns, ready to call him out, but he reaches for her hand and says, “Let’s go eat,” with such finality that she doesn’t really know how she’d bring it up.

All she knows is that his hand feels cold in a way it never has before and the silence they sit in at dinner is like nothing she’s ever felt with him, even before they started sleeping together.

-----

“Merry Christmas!” Cam throws open the front door dramatically before Aubrey, Will, Steph, and Mitch have barely even shut their car doors. “Come on, you’re late!”

“Oh boy.” Aubrey mutters and she hears Steph and Mitch laugh.

Will, however, is as quiet as he’s been all drive up to her parents for their annual Christmas Eve party- as quiet as he’s been all week, as he’s been since whatever happened- and it makes her wonder why he even came. She’d told him he didn’t have to come if he didn’t want to; he’d just given her this tiny smile and asked her what time they had to pick up Mitch and Steph.

“How are we late?” Steph asks, as all four of them start yanking off coats and scarves the second they walk in the door. “None of the neighbors are even here yet!”

Cam huffs at that bit of logic and turns on her heel, walking away from them as they laugh, which cues Aubrey’s brothers into their arrival. Tye and Danny poke their heads around the corner of the wall, calling for Mitch immediately to show them how to do something on a new video game, but right away they’re thwarted by their mom. “Later.” Mitch whispers to them, as Tye and Danny grin, following the four of them into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, they find Aubrey and Steph’s moms working in tandem- the way they always have on Christmas Eve- to finish the appetizers and set food out. They stop only briefly to greet their daughters and their daughters’ boyfriends, and to direct them on where to put the desserts they brought, before they’re shooing them all right back out.

“Dads in the basement?” Steph asks, like they all don’t know the answer already, and Danny nods, leading the way down the stairs, where Fitz and Ryan have already started a beer pong game against Mike and Tom.

“Shotty next.” Mitch calls, while he waits for Aubrey and Steph to say hi to their dads.

“You gonna be able to walk back next door?” Fitz snorts out a laugh.

“That was one time!” Mitch protests. “Nobody warned me how much drinking there was on Christmas Eve!”

“It’s like we hadn’t spent the last four months together before that.” Aubrey deadpans, focusing more on watching Will greet her stepdad with the same enthusiasm as he had her mom, and her brothers, and Cam.

But then, he comes back to her side, and when she goes to tangle their fingers together, his hand stays limp, just kind of letting her do what she wants, not returning the gesture at all, instead of pulling her closer like he used to.

“Guess I thought you two were the anomaly.” Mitch teases. “Then I learned I’d have to bring my A game all the time.”

“Yeah buddy.” Tom says, looking over at his daughter’s boyfriend right after he sinks Fitz and Ryan’s last cup. “Who’s with you?”

-----

By the time Mitch and Will get demolished in beer pong, Aubrey and Steph are fighting back a laugh at their dads’ light buzz already going and the neighbors have started to arrive, which brings a temporary pause to pong play for more introductions.

The neighbors all love Will, which, of course they do. Aubrey’s not surprised at all. He’s funny and charming and personable, just has this air that draws people in, and every one of her mom’s friends finds her at some point after they meet Will to gush about how wonderful he is.

“Yeah.” Aubrey says, almost helplessly to Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Morris, as she watches Will with Kayls and Cam across the room. “He’s pretty great.” They smile knowingly at her, Mrs. Jones winking as she passes, leaving Aubrey to watch them with a fond smile on her face.

It’s Will who notices her staring first, because of course it is. Kayls and Cam are oblivious to everything around them. He catches her eye, still laughing about whatever they’re talking about, and there’s a second where his smile grows when he sees her, a second Aubrey feels a grin growing across her own face.

And then it all stops abruptly as something flashes over Will’s face, and as quick as the grin was there, it’s gone.

Aubrey frowns and watches as Will returns to talking with Kayls and Cam again, but notices the smile on his face seems forced now. She wants...well, she doesn’t know exactly what she wants, but she’s tired of not knowing what’s going on with him.

“Hey.” Fitz nudges her shoulder. “It’s too early for you to be sad about going to your dad’s tomorrow. Come take a shot with me.”

“I-” It’s not that. She starts to say, but stops herself. Today’s not the day to try and tease out whatever’s going on with Will. Whatever it is could wait until after Christmas. “Yeah, sure.”

Fitz grins, leading her over to the makeshift bar, corralling a few friends as they go, but by the time he starts pouring, the crowd around them has gotten bigger. Will’s standing next to her, but the space he’s left between them feels so purposeful, and it only makes Aubrey frown as she listens to Fitz’s Christmas toast, as he cheers to a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, to good friends and great family. “And a way too cool future brother-in-law.” He jokes. “Don’t fuck this up, Aub!”

“Yo!” Mitch protests loudly as Aubrey feels the breath get stuck in her chest.

She can’t even look at Will, so tense she can hardly bring her shot glass up to her mouth. The alcohol barely even burns and she knows it’s not because she’s too drunk to taste it; the numbness of her brother’s comment still stinging, and it’s well after she’s deposited her shot glass on the counter that she realizes, “Where’s Will?”

Mitch frowns, looking behind them. “He was right here, wasn’t he?”

Aubrey nods slowly, trying to stand on her toes and search for him. “Can you just-” She starts.

Steph’s right on her wavelength. “You look up here; we’ll check downstairs.”

Will is nowhere to be found on the main floor, so she heads upstairs and finally finds him in the room they’d thrown their bags in earlier. “Hey.” She breathes out a sigh of relief. “There you are.”

“Here I am.” Will says quietly. He’s in front of the taller dresser, looking at the bulletin board covered in pictures from high school and college- one of the few relics left in the room from when it was hers before her mom refashioned it into a guest room.

“I’m sorry about Fitz!” She blurts. “He didn’t mean any-”

“We should be wrapping up soon, right?” Will says abruptly, interrupting her.

“What?” Aubrey frowns, shocked. That is...not at all what she thought he’d say.

“This?” He gestures between the two of them. “Like, Mitch and Steph definitely think we're a thing. Can call this off soon?”

“Um.” Aubrey tries to breathe but something’s definitely restricting that ability. “We…what?”

“We can stop this pretending.” Will says, like it’s obvious, and Aubrey feels her stomach drop. This...this was all pretend to him. “Do that break up that’s going to crush them. The whole reason we did this.”

“Right.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “Uh yeah, we can do that.”

Will shrugs. “Cool.” He says, and then turns and walks away, leaving Aubrey standing there wondering where exactly she went wrong.

-----

“Ok.” Steph snaps her fingers and only then does Aubrey look up from the Leafs vs. Calgary game that her best friend invited her over to watch that she’s paying absolutely no attention to- and hasn’t actually been able to focus on all night. Her best friend is standing in front of her, holding a new bottle of wine, and looking concerned. “I’ve asked for your glass like four times now. What’s going on?”

Aubrey bites her lip and holds her glass out. If she’s going to do this, they’re both going to need refills. “I have to tell you something.”

Steph frowns immediately but fills Aubrey’s glass and then her own. “Uhh, ok? What’s up.”

Aubrey doesn’t know whether she needs a deep breath or a sip of wine to settle her nerves. She goes for both. “Will and I aren’t together.”

And maybe...maybe that was the wrong way to phrase it, because Steph’s face just falls. “I’m so sorry, babe.” She says, reaching out and rubbing Aubrey’s arm. “I really thought-” She shakes her head and Aubrey’s still trying to figure out what she said wrong, what she can say to make her see what she really means. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Aubrey says and Steph looks like she wants to reach for the wine bottle and pull her in for a hug at the same time, until she continues. “No, I mean; Will and I aren’t together now because we were never really together at all and no, I’m not okay either, actually, now that you mention it.”

Now Steph frowns uncertainly, like she doesn’t know what to say. And that look? The one on her face right there? If it didn’t feel like her heart was already breaking, she’d be cherishing that look.

Now she can’t even enjoy it.

“You’re going to have to explain this one to me.” Steph says, her voice carefully neutrally.

So Aubrey does- beginning with the night that Mitch and Steph had had them over and her and Will’s plan to get them to stop nagging, to when they’d started sleeping together, to how it felt like they were together for real and on the same page, right up until they weren’t.

“I wanna be so mad at you right now.” Steph says, after a long silence.

“You should be.” Aubrey admits. “I would be.

“Well, you’re making it really hard looking so sad.” Steph glares. “And being so dumb.” Aubrey’s jaw drops, even if the callout is probably well deserved. “Will looks at you like you are the center of the universe. He looks like his entire day has gotten better every time you walk into the room. For God’s sake, he willingly met your dad on Christmas last week! You cannot honestly tell me you think he doesn’t really want to be with you!”

“He told me he wanted to stop!” Aubrey cries. “He was the one who said we should do the breakup!”

“Well if you don’t want to, then tell him!” Steph dares.

“Stephanie.” Aubrey frowns.

“What?”

“I can’t do that!” Aubrey hisses.

“Why not?” Steph pours another glass of wine for herself and then passes the bottle over. Aubrey accepts eagerly. “Did Will tell you why he wanted to stop this...dating thing?”

“...no.” Aubrey sighs. It’s another thing that’s been driving her crazy.

“So ask him.” Steph says plainly. “And tell him you don’t want to stop.”

Aubrey bites her lip nervously. “But what if he says no?”

“Honestly the worst thing that happens here is that you still break up.” Steph says gently. “But this really just sounds like a matter of you two actually needing to talk about where you stand. Will’s not a mind-reader, Aub; he can’t have known you didn’t want to stop things, especially if this was all your idea in the first place.”

Ugh, she’s right. “I hate everything about this.” Aubrey sing-songs. “Including the fact that you even introduced us.”

Now Steph grins. “You do not hate that we introduced you. You just hate feeling vulnerable.”

That’s too accurate to address, so Aubrey flips her off and reaches for the wine again.

-----

Will picks her up for the Leafs annual New Year’s Eve party and it’s unfair because no one should look that good dressed in black pants and a sweater, but there’s Will waiting by the car with a beanie on his head and a pea coat left open, for maximal torture is the only reason Aubrey can think of.

“Hi.” She breathes, running across the street to him as best she can in her heels.

It takes him a second to respond. “Hi.” He says finally, opening the door for her. “You uh, planning on blinding us all tonight?” He teases, once he slides into the backseat of the uber with her.

Aubrey giggles at the lame joke as she looks down at her glittery skirt. It’s such a lame joke but she’s just so relieved he even made it. That they still have dumb things to laugh over. “Hmm, over-under on how many of us are wearing something sparkly tonight. 10?”

“Over.” Will answers immediately and she giggles again.

The ride doesn’t take long so it’s only a few minutes before they’re pulling up to the club, where they run into Travis Dermott and his girlfriend exiting their uber at the same time. “Nine more.” Will whispers in her ear, as Kat turns to greet them, and they both catch sight of a sparkly tank under her jacket.

“Hush.” Aubrey bites back a laugh, but only barely, before she pulls Kat in for a hug. Inside is about as loud as she’d expected but once they all step upstairs into the VIP section roped off for them, it’s easier to hear, easier to think, and easier to breathe.

Or at least, it is for a moment. She can feel Will’s eyes on her from across the room, where he’s at the bar ordering drinks for the two of them, and she and Kat have gone to say hi to more people.

“So, uh.” Steph says, in lieu of hello. “I don’t think Will’s being weird anymore.”

When Aubrey turns and follows Steph’s eyes, Will’s still looking at her, unashamed in his gaze or getting caught. He winks back at her, grinning when she smiles at him. “No.” She says slowly. “I guess not.” Steph just grins at that, kind of smugly, and Aubrey huffs at that, turning away to greet Morgan and Tessa behind her.

It’s not long before Will returns with drinks, still grinning as he pulls her immediately to the dance floor. He pulls out some of his most ridiculous moves and Aubrey laughs, harder and harder the more she drinks, and then finally falling against him after he and Mitch attempt the Toosie Slide together.

“Why are you laughing?” Will demands, wrapping an arm around her waist and taking her hand, leading her into some weird kind of slow dance, even as the song changes into something by The Chainsmokers.

“I just like seeing you like this.” She grins.

His brow furrows. “Like what?”

“Just-” She doesn’t know how to explain it. How open he is right now, how loose and easy and warm he looks because he’s just able to be himself, and how happy she feels to be with him, especially when he’s like this. “Just happy, I guess.”

Will grins again and presses a loud kiss to her temple, that she barely has time to giggle at, because he says, “Always happy to be with you,” like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

And Aubrey gasps in shock, but she doesn’t think Will even notices, because he’s dipping her back over his arm right after that and then she’s too busy laughing again.

-----

Steph flops down on the remaining couch seat and ignores the look that Auston sends her in favor of fanning herself with her hand. “Sure.” He says dryly. “I’ll move over a little.”

“Would you? Thanks.” She snickers and he shakes his head fondly at her.

“How about you?” He looks over at Aubrey. “Gonna squish me in the corner even more?”

Aubrey’s already settled herself on his other side, on the edge of the couch. “Nah, I’m good here.” She bumps her shoulder against his.

“Is it even possible to squish you in the corner?” Steph muses.

“Why are you squished in the corner?” Aubrey asks, confused. “What, you couldn’t find a date for New Year’s?”

“I make it a point to not bring dates to holiday parties.” Auston says and Aubrey’s jaw drops.

Steph’s snickering into her palm though, so it’s clear this particular brand of assholery isn’t unfamiliar. “Holidays and events.” She cackles. “Keep those expectations low.”

“Although now that I know that all it takes to make a girl leave is to just have you walk in my house the next morning…” Auston trails off thoughtfully.

Aubrey shoves at his head, ruffling his hair on purpose, but she can’t help but laugh along with him. “Don’t you fucking dare. I’ve got better things to do than that.”

“Like what?” Steph says, too innocently to be real. “Will?”

“I’m leaving.” Aubrey stands, as Steph and Auston both laugh. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

“Is noon good tomorrow?” She hears Auston call after her, while Steph cackles next to him. “How about 12:30?” She flips him off over her shoulder, without looking back, instead pushing her way around Fred and his new girl, to find Will where she’d left him at the bar with Mitch.

But at the bar, she finds only Mitch, who’s looking a little confused. “Where’s Will?” She asks.

“Um.” Is all Mitch says and Aubrey frowns immediately.

“Mitch, what happened?” Aubrey says flatly and Mitch caves right away.

“I don’t know!” He says. “We were just ordering drinks, watching you guys, everything seemed fine, and next thing I know, he was walking away!”

“Well where did he go?” She asks impatiently, barely waiting for Mitch to point before she’s shoving her way through the crowd.

It feels like she circles the entire building before she finally finds Will, and it’s more like she happens to run into him than she actually finds him, which just annoys her even more, enough that she grabs his hand and pulls him outside to a spot far enough away that it’s quiet enough to talk.

It’s not quiet- it’s still New Year’s Eve and there’s people all around them going up and down the street- but it’s far enough from the door that they can’t feel the music anymore, at least.

Will’s staring at their hands, still linked, but he’s not saying anything, and even though she’s the one who dragged them out into the cold, he’s the one who started acting weird in the first place, and she feels her annoyance grow. “I thought we were having a really good time tonight?”

Will sighs. “We were.” He pauses. “I was, at least.”

“Ok, I was too.” Aubrey says slowly. “So, what happened?”

Will sighs again. “Look, it’s fine, like this was never supposed to be a thing with us, yeah? I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me. I’ll get over it.”

She’s so confused. “Get over what? Why are you mad?”

“I saw you,” Will says. “Coming out of Auston’s one morning. I was driving past, after practice on my way home.” He shrugs, almost casually, but she can see in his face how hurt he is. “And like, we were never supposed to be a thing.” He repeats and she frowns. Why does he keep saying that? “So I’m not mad at you and I can’t even be mad at him. But I saw you and Matts together and I knew I liked you more than you liked me.” He shrugs again, trying to play off his words as light as casual, but Aubrey’s trying to put the pieces together of what he said. “I know you’d rather be here with him tonight, but that’s why I can’t do this anymore.”

“Oh my god.” She breathes. “You’re so dumb.”

“Hey!” Will protests.

“We’re so dumb.” She corrects, because, really, it’s the truth. “I was at Auston’s that day because he was the only one who knew about us at the time and I needed to talk to someone about if I’m in love with you!”

Will doesn’t move for a second, the longest second of Aubrey’s entire life. “Where, uh, where’d you land on that one?” He asks, like he’s kind of nervous for the answer.

And Aubrey can relate; there are butterflies in her stomach, even though she’s positive she knows how this is going to end now. “Pretty strongly in favor for.” She says and Will beams, that bright smile that lights up his entire face. “I didn’t get to tell you earlier, but I’m always happy to be with you, too.”

“That’s good.” Will says mildly, and Aubrey grins, waiting for the rest. “Because I really love seeing you smile like that.”

Her jaw drops a little. She’s not upset about what he said at all; it’s just so not what she expected him to say. And in that moment of silence, Will grins down at her once more, before leaning down to kiss her.

-----

It’s late the next morning by the time Aubrey tumbles out of bed, yanking a t-shirt of Will’s over her head. Will’s been up for at least an hour already, and she kisses his cheek as she passes, giggling as he lightly pats her ass in return.

“Coffee’s still warm.” He says.

“I still love you.” She teases. “That’s not changing just because you kept the pot warm.” Will flips her off and returns back to the game he’s playing on his Switch. “Have you seen my phone?”

“Near the front door.”

Most of her stuff is still by the front door, thrown hastily down when they’d come in late last night. Her phone’s still got a little battery left, filled with messages from late last night and earlier this morning, but one in particular catches her eye.

Steph LaChance: i told you so 😉

#william nylander #william nylander fan fic #william nylander fanfiction #william nylander imagine #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #my hockey fics

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years ago

Text

Red

Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3680

Warnings: Kink and trauma. You know, in case you forgot whose blog you were on! Night terrors. Non-graphic flashbacks to violence, very graphic smut. Bucky’s head is just not a very fun place? References to brainwashing and torture. Kink discovery, including some hitting/slapping during sex and some power/control fantasies, all within the context of a very happy relationship. It goes down dark but there’s a distinctly soft aftertaste.

A/N: For @cockslut-padalecki and her Decade Under The Influence challenge. My prompt was “The Crimson” by Atreyu. Thanks for always hosting the absolute best challenges, and congrats on the milestone!

Pre-reads by @thoughtslikeaminefield @mskathywriteswords and @fangirlxwritesx67. Inspiration from that scene where Sebastian Stan gets slapped. You know the one I mean.

The companion fic to this will be coming soon! It’s significantly darker and way outside my wheelhouse, but please let me know if you want a tag.

The Soldier stalks silently down the hallway to the bedroom, scanning the shadows.

The closet.

Something itches, deep under the ice: knowledge that closets are for hiding —

— a small girl, giggling in the back corner of the closet —

— ready or not, here I come —

— but those frozen things don’t belong to the Soldier.

He opens the door and finds the woman on the floor, trying to hide in the darkness. He picks her up by the throat. Moonlight from the open window glints off her wide eyes and the Soldier’s metal hand. She fights back, clawing at his arm uselessly.

He waits for her to stop struggling. They always do.

Bucky opens his eyes and bolts upright, gritting his teeth against the sweaty, shivery wave of nausea.

It takes a moment for the numbing chill of the Soldier’s memory to fade.

He knows it’s a memory. He lost so many things in the deep emptiness of cryo-sleep, but he couldn’t bury them forever, and now they claw their way out while he dreams. The darkness gives him back his life, one nightmare at a time.

Sometimes he wakes up screaming. Sometimes he wakes up convinced that the bed under him is soaked with blood, and it takes a few awful seconds to realize that he just sweated through the sheets. Other times he’s paralyzed in the darkness, convinced he’s back in the cryo chamber, and he wants to punch and claw and fight his way out, wants to see the sun again, but he tried that one too many times — he learned his lesson about wanting things.

At least he didn’t wake her this time. She makes a breathy sound as she stirs, but she’s still sound asleep, and when he inspects his hands in the glow of her night light, there’s no trace of red.

She got the light about two months ago, when he started sleeping over. She didn’t ask him, didn’t mention it — he would’ve been embarrassed, if she asked, but it helps. She helps.

He’s goddamn crazy about her. It hasn’t been long, but he knows this is it for him.

Bucky curls up facing her. Her hair is a mess, and there’s a damp patch of drool on the pillow under her slack mouth, and she’s beautiful. It’s amazing that she trusts him enough to fall asleep next to him.

He closes his eyes. This time he doesn’t dream.

The end credits of the movie start to scroll down the screen, and she makes a grumbling noise that means she doesn’t want to get up and turn the TV off. Her little apartment is full of the rich smell of whatever she’s got in the oven, and the day has been so sweetly domestic that Bucky wonders when everything will start to twist and distort and go bloody. He must be hallucinating.

But the hallucinations always had a sort of airbrushed quality to them when they started, an inhuman perfection that felt easy, like he was floating. Right now his stomach is growling, and when she shifts, her elbow digs into his side, and she’s a heavy comforting warmth on top of him.

The hallucinations were the product of his own brain, which might be why they came back all too quickly when he started to recover his memories. Even when he couldn’t remember his sisters’ faces, he remembered the drug-fueled torture that took place behind his closed eyelids, scenes that started like fantasies and ended like nightmares.

Most memories from before the fall are weak and hazy, sepia-toned afterimages that overlay the living world like ghosts. Other things bleed through the decades, making it hard to keep track of whose memories he’s seeing. The Soldier’s memories are always sharp and cold, and they’re the hardest to shake off. Sometimes they’re triggered by the present, and it’s always a surprise; he’s stepping into a crosswalk and the past is washing over him like —

The water from the hose is freezing cold as the handler rinses off the blood —

— and he’s still staring down at the slushy puddle, but —

— the Soldier keeps his eyes down, clenching his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering, watching the red swirl over the cold cracked tile and disappear down the drain, and —

Bucky has to fight to hold on to the honking taxis and the Brooklyn stink, because the cryo chamber is quiet like a coffin in the last few seconds before he’s frozen into unconsciousness, and —

— and sometimes he feels frozen even when the dreams dissolve, even when he knows they’re only dreams.

The frigid paralysis was mental more than physical, for the Soldier, and that’s a hard thing to shake. The raw human parts of him iced over, head and heart numb while his body carried on following orders.

She sits up and stretches, making her shirt ride up, and he notices bruises on her hips, wrapping around the side.

“Did I do that?” he asks, voice thin.

She looks down like she didn’t notice. “Probably.”

He tugs the waistband of her yoga pants down a little and finds the shape of a handprint, stained purple. She twists to show him a matching set on the other side. They’re more defined on the side he was gripping with his metal hand last night. He feels cold all over.

“Sorry.”

“No biggie.”

He’s too scared to meet her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

“What if I asked you to?” she tosses back, playful and easy.

Bucky doesn’t know how to react to that. He can’t let her see how badly he wants that, so he just freezes like a deer in headlights, forcing himself to go still, to shut down, to say nothing.

“Whoa, hey, don’t do that,” she says, and she moves into his space slowly, deliberately, giving him time to tell her to stop. He blinks at her, and she smiles, soothing.

He spent the first month of their relationship waiting for her to turn and run. It’s gotten better, but…

“Why the hell do you trust me?” he blurts out.

She frowns, and hesitates, and he wants to reach up and smooth out the little frown line that forms between her eyebrows, but he doesn’t. She curls up against him and kisses his jaw.

“Would you ever choose to hurt me?” she asks.

“No.”

“There you go.” He feels the movement when she shrugs, as if it’s that easy. “You control your choices. That’s it.”

“But I —”

“No buts,” she interrupts, and her voice is firm. “I choose to trust you and you don’t get to talk me out of it.”

Bucky lets out a huff of not-quite-laughter at that. She’s stubborn as hell when she wants to be, and he knows better than to argue.

“Okay,” he says, and wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. She settles closer, her breath a warm damp tickle against the side of his neck.

His body used to be a weapon.

“You can’t blame yourself for things that are out of your control,” she mumbles, as if she heard him.

He takes a deep breath and says it again: “Okay.”

He can see her reflection in the mirror; she bites her lip, teeth white against her bright red lipstick, trying to hold back, but the whimpers are getting louder by the second as he fucks her harder. She’s bracing herself with her forearms on the sink, her entire body shaking with each sharp thrust.

“Shhhh,” Bucky says, half-laughing, but he doesn’t slow down.

He’s pretty sure this was her plan all along. They barely made it an hour into the party before she tugged him into the bathroom, and usually he would protest, but he’s been half-hard since he first saw her in that damn outfit.

She opened the door earlier looking like a pinup, complete with glossy curls and red lips and this dress: flared skirt, nipped-in waist, curves threatening to spill over the scooped-low neckline. He had just stuttered for a few seconds as a wisp of memory cast a sepia glow over her pleased smile.

He used to have a dog-eared print of one of those calendar girls, and it was tame compared to some that were carried to war, but there was something warm in her smile that made him hold onto it. He used to daydream about her waiting at home, welcoming him at the door, when everything else was heavy and grey. He used to look at her smile when he couldn’t bear to close his eyes, knowing he’d only see blood. They took it when he was captured, of course, but he used to imagine —

— this, he used to imagine this, the way the skirt is rucked up around her hips and she’s bent at the waist, the way she stretches open around the shiny-wet length of his cock.

He has a flash of certainty that this is just a fantasy, something he’s imagining desperately as he fucks his own fist and tries not to make a sound, pressing his other palm to his mouth to muffle his labored breathing. He’s picturing this so vividly that when he opens his eyes and sees the stars, framed by the caved-in ceiling of another bombed-out shell of a building, he’ll have to fight back tears of disappointment.

The sight of her face in the mirror is utterly pornographic, threatening to send him over the edge too soon, but when he looks down, he can see the way her ass bounces and jiggles as she shoves herself back to meet each thrust, and that’s goddamn obscene too. Bucky’s imagination has never been this good.

She’s so close, too close to stay silent, and just as she lets out a high-pitched, keening moan, there are footsteps right outside the door.

He reacts instinctively, before he can think better of it; he slaps his hand over her mouth, muffling the sound against his palm — the metal one, he realizes, a split-second too late.

Their eyes meet in the mirror for one wild heartbeat. Her skin looks dangerously soft under silver fingers that could so easily break the fragile jawbone they grip.

Then her eyes roll back in her head, and her orgasm blindsides both of them with its intensity. If he wasn’t silencing her, she would’ve shouted, he’s pretty sure; she spasms violently against his grip, writhing like she’s trying to shake him off, and —

— he imagines her struggling, fighting back, until he pins her against the wall and —

— it hits him like a gut-punch. He doubles over, curling himself around her as he comes with a rough shocked grunt, and the white-out lightning-bolt electroshock feel of it is so incredible he forgets, for a few seconds; he just buries his face in those curls and kisses the nape of her neck.

He straightens up and realizes her lipstick is smeared over the metal hand, deep crimson red.

“God, we’re a mess,” she laughs breathlessly. She turns to kiss him, eyes sparkling, and then they have to clean up, put themselves back together, and he brushes it off.

It was probably a memory, a ghost whose features he confused with hers in one fevered second. Unwanted memories —

— dreams — flashbacks — fantasies — hallucinations —

— invade his reality every day.

It didn’t feel like a memory, though.

She smiles, and there’s no doubt in his mind that the smile is real, so Bucky swallows his guilt and smiles back. Her hand is warm in his.

There’s a knife in his hand and blood on the floor.

It’s messy, but those were his orders. Easier to frame the mistress this way. At least the carving knife was sharp. Red drips down the blade onto the metal fingers.

He’s about to place it next to the corpse when he hears the gasp. The mistress had been asleep four minutes ago, but people are unpredictable that way.

Messy.

The Soldier pivots, finds her standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She’s paralyzed by fear, like a deer in headlights as he stalks closer. Usually they run. Sometimes they fight back. This one just stares.

“I won’t say anything,” she whispers. “I didn’t see —” He grabs her wrist, and she shrieks, trying to twist away, until he pins her against the wall and holds her in place. Tears start to roll down her cheeks. “No, please, I’ll do anything you want — just don’t kill me! You can — anything, I promise, I won’t struggle! Do you want —”

“Want” is buried deep under the ice. “Want” is for bodies that are warm and soft and human. The Soldier is a weapon.

He presses the knife into her hand and forces her fingers to close around the handle. She was supposed to be asleep.

She’ll be blamed, one way or another, but maybe it’s better this way. Cleaner.

No witnesses. It’s an order.

Bucky wakes up. He’s trembling, sitting up with his hands twisted in the sheets, but it’s not as bad as it could be. She’s sitting up next to him, one gentle hand on his chest as she watches with wide sad eyes.

“Sorry,” he chokes out. “Fuck, I hate waking you up.”

“Almost time anyway,” she says, which is when he realizes that it’s morning. Sunlight is streaming in through the sheer curtains. He settles back against the headboard, taking it in. They’re both naked, with her big downy comforter around their waists, and the residual chill of memory thaws immediately in the cozy warmth of her bed.

She leans in hesitantly and brushes her lips against his. He can read the worry plain on her face — she doesn’t know what he needs right now — but he tugs her onto his lap, tilts his head back, mouth opening easily under hers for slow lazy kisses that stretch like taffy and then turn deep and dirty. She swears like a sailor as she sinks down slowly onto his cock.

Christ, she’s gorgeous.

It must be real. He could never hallucinate something so flawed and incredible as the way she looks naked, the stretch marks under his palms, the calluses on her fingers when she cups his jaw, the way she moans when he plants his feet on the bed and fucks up into her.

She’s flushed and dewy with sweat, moaning in the sharp bitten-off way that means he found just the right angle, and her thighs are shaking hard enough that he has to grip her hips and hold her steady. He can feel her starting to get close, clenching and flooded around him, when her alarm goes off.

“Cocksucking motherfucker,” she snarls.

They both look helplessly at the phone, just out of easy reach on the nightstand. Bucky’s tempted to just ignore it, but she’s already leaning over. She twists at the waist but doesn’t stop rocking her hips down against him, squeezing in little pulses like she can’t help herself, so he settles her more firmly on his lap, holding her weight and anchoring her as she reaches for it. He works his right hand down between them, an awkward angle that’s totally worth it when he can rub her clit with the pad of his thumb and feel her spasm around his cock.

“Five more minutes,” he suggests breathlessly.

“Not gonna need that long if you keep doing that.” She trembles and almost collapses before finally grabbing the phone, and she hits the snooze button immediately.

He’s already rolling his hips, grinding in deep, and he must hit something just right at the same moment she starts to straighten up; it makes her twitch, jerking uncontrollably against him as she moves, and her elbow cracks across his jaw, snapping his head to the side hard enough to rattle his teeth.

“Shit!” she hisses, and then: “I’m so sorry, I — are you —”

But the rough throb of pain hit like a swell of heat in Bucky’s gut, making him jerk up into her and shudder with pleasure. He lets his head loll, taking a deep heaving breath and letting it out as a moan.

It’s not until he tilts his head back to look at her stunned face that he realizes what just happened. His cheeks burn but she doesn’t look disgusted; her eyes go all heavy-lidded and she bites her lip as she starts to ride him again, swiveling her hips.

He’s opening his mouth to make some excuse, to deny it, when she leans in for a bruising kiss: teeth scraping his lower lip, a whimper rough in her throat, cunt silky-hot and soaked, so good his head is spinning.

Then she asks raggedly, “Do you want me to do that again?”

Without even thinking about it, he blurts out, “Yes.”

Her palm connects with his cheek, a sharp sting that draws a guttural sound from deep in his chest. He moves on pure primal instinct, gripping her hips to slam her down on his cock.

From there it’s rough and frantic and desperate. He’s only dimly aware of the way she moans, bucking against him, the way they’re moving against each other like animals, the way she bites his lip so hard he tastes copper and then he’s gone, coming so hard his vision goes white with the first intense pulses of it. She shudders as she follows him, riding out the shocks of pleasure with her forehead pressed to his and her hands in his hair.

He shivers against her, breath hitching as reality washes in like ice water.

“I can feel you freaking out,” she mumbles. “What, they didn’t have kink in the thirties?”

It surprises Bucky enough that he lets out a huff of laughter. “No. Not exactly.”

“Why is this freaking you out?”

He stutters for a second before he manages, “What’s wrong with me?”

She sits up and looks at him intently. “Fucking nothing.”

“That should be the last thing I want,” Bucky mutters, cheeks burning.

“That’s not how it works,” she snaps. “Sex isn’t — it doesn’t always make sense. It’s messy.”

“I’ve had enough of hurting people for a fuckin’ lifetime.”

There’s something vulnerable in her sheepish half-smile. “Sometimes your body likes shit it shouldn’t. You can’t control what gets you off. Believe me, sweetheart.”

He blinks, ready to question that, and she leans in for a quick kiss. As if on cue, her alarm goes off again.

“Fuck.”

“I gotta go,” she says reluctantly. “But later — later we’re going to talk about some things. Okay?”

He doesn’t say it out loud, but he thinks it very clearly in that moment: I love you.

“Okay.”

The Soldier pins her brutally against the wall, one hand around her wrists, the other around her throat. He doesn’t squeeze, not yet, just holds her there and savors the thrill; she’s writhing and lashing out at him like a caged animal, but he’s got her and she knows it.

It’s beautiful, the way she snarls and tries to struggle.

He wants —

— so this must be a normal dream, not a memory, but —

— he wants to fuck her just like this, up against the wall, and —

— his hips jerk and his cock throbs, and —

— fuck, he wants her.

“Baby?” Her voice comes out as a sleep-slurred moan.

He tries to blink away the dream, but instead he’s rolling over and pinning her, rocking his hips down before he can stop himself. She sucks in a breath, spreading her legs to meet the next slow thrust, and she blinks dazedly up at him, mouth dropping open as they rut against each other.

“What was it?” she asks, raspy and heated.

He lets out a pained sound and drops his head, hunching to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He’s so goddamn hard, so close, all over a fucked-up dream, and —

“I was holding you — up against the wall. Your wrists.”

“Yeah?” she says, voice smoky and eager. “Remember what we talked about?”

“Traffic lights. Red if you want me to stop.”

“Do it.”

Oh.

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck yes.”

He snatches her wrists and crosses them over her head, watching the way her lashes flutter at the touch of metal, the way she bites her lip. She shifts under him, squirming until the length of him is slotted up against her slickness and her legs are up around his hips.

He slides in slow, relishing every inch, her body welcoming him with living dripping heat. She arches up, and he adjusts his grip on her wrists, squeezing slightly as he braces himself. All he wants in the entire damn universe is to drive into her, piston his hips until she’s screaming, but he starts to fuck her with steady even thrusts, holding back, trying to let go of the last lingering doubts.

“Doesn’t this scare you?” Bucky asks hoarsely. “That you’re trapped.”

She lets out a moan that sure as hell doesn’t sound like fear. This isn’t a dream any more, but it still feels surreal.

“Yellow,” she says.

“Shit. What’s wrong?” He tries to pull away, but she’s got her ankles hooked, keeping him in place with her legs. He lets go of her wrists, at least, and hauls in a deep breath, trying to make sense of that fierce expression on her face.

“Nothing. I just wanted you to see that you’re in control. You chose to stop.”

He swallows hard. “Yeah. I did.”

“Stop punishing your body for wanting this,” she says.

His breath catches, and for a moment all he can do is stare. She gives him a smile so soft it threatens to rip him open.

Then he curls his fingers around her wrists again — they’re still crossed, right where he left them. He waits for her nod.

“Green.”

Companion fic is here.

#decadeundertheinfluencechallenge #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #MCU #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader

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99liv3s · 3 years ago

Text

A Quite Different Attraction

Anna stood beside her best friend, Amber, reading the sign in front of the building her friend had pulled her over to! The two of them were on vacation, and had seen lots of sights and done lots of things, but they were looking for something different, and Amber thought she had found such a unique and unheard of experience when she found this "attraction" the two of them were now standing in front of.

"Instant Pregnancies!"

"Experience the wonder and sensation of being pregnant and giving birth, all in the span of 20 minutes! One of our staff will assist in putting a baby inside you and monitoring you during the process! Additionally, you may choose weather or not to keep the baby afterward, or donate it to our New Life clinics!"

"Cost: $30 a person, no more than 3 persons at one time."

"Disclaimer: This procedure requires intimate access to your body - Experience at your own risk!"

Amber brushed her long black hair out of her face and looked at Anna, her brown eyes twinkling. "Let's do it," she said excitedly!! "It's something neither of us have done, and it'll be quite the experience!"

Anna ran her fingers through her short blonde hair, thinking. "I dunno, Amber," she said apprehensively, though she was also curious, "I mean, it sounds a little suspicious."

"Oh, come on, Anna, haven't you ever just wanted to be pregnant??" Amber asked, beaming.

Anna shook her head with a snort of laughter. "No, I'm not you!" She responded, though in her mind, she was just as intrigued as her friend, though maybe more cautious than her.

"It's only $30, and we don't even get stuck with a kid afterward," Amber pleaded. "What's the harm in trying it out?"

Anna looked at the sign again, her green eyes scanning the advertisement. She WAS curious about this, both the sensation of being pregnant and how this "attraction" would manage to pull off pregnancy and birth in 20 minutes, something that normally took months. "Ok, I'm in!" Anna said, nodding.

Amber practically cheered, and the two of them eagerly entered the building.

They were greeted by a young woman behind a counter, who smiled at them. "We're here for the instant pregnancies," Amber said to her. The woman nodded. "Excellent," she said. "Both of you are participating, I assume?" Amber nodded, and as the two of them paid and gave their names, Anna asked, "How does it work??" The woman continued to smile, as if this wasn't the first time she had been asked this. "Well, it works like you'd expect any pregnancy to work," she answered. "One of our staff will insert his sperm into you, and impregnate you, it all just happens at a faster pace is all." She smiled at the expressions of shock, confusion, and wonder on the girls' faces. "I know, you are wondering what makes it so fast," she continued. "Well, our staff have all undergone special fertility treatments, which are combined with a pill both of you lovely ladies will be required to take before I let you back." The woman placed two pills on the counter, one for each of them. Anna, now almost trembling with excitement despite her previous reluctance, grabbed her pill and swallowed it, followed by Amber a second later.

"Daniel will be the one assisting both of you this evening," the woman said, looking at her computer screen as the girls took their pills. "Now, head down the hall behind me to room C!" "Go in, and Daniel will be with you both shortly!"

The girls made their way to room C and entered it. It was a moderately sized room, with two chairs and two beds inside it, along with a mirror on the wall next to the door they had used to enter. Amber sat in one of the chairs as Anna positioned herself on the foot of one of the beds, looking around. Not even a minute had passed when a young, dark haired man entered the room, wearing a staff coat, which he immediately took off!

"Greetings, lovely ladies," he said to them, smiling warmly. "I'm Daniel, and I'll be your support staff member today!" "Who wishes to go first??"

Amber and Anna looked at each other, both silently asking each other if they wanted to go first. Amber was thinking that, since she was the one that convinced Anna to do this in the first place, it was only fair that Amber go first, but then Anna spoke up timidly...

"I... I will go first," she said in a soft voice. Daniel smiled brightly at her and started to undress. "Very well, Anna, I think your name was! Please take off your clothing!"

Anna did so, removing everything but her bra, as Daniel had finished getting completely naked and approached her. "I'm nervous," Anna squeaked out, not making eye contact with anyone. Daniel placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, I will do everything I can to be gentle and make you as comfortable as possible!" Daniel said softly, and there was something reassuring to his voice. Anna nodded, as if giving approval, then Daniel entered her.

He really was gentle, and Anna found herself gasping as he bounced against her, once, twice, three times. She squeaked in surprise as she saw her belly start to swell instantly, as she felt Daniel release into her. Daniel didn't make a sound through the entire experience, and then a few minutes later, with Anna sporting a 9-month pregnant belly, Daniel pulled out of her, smiling.

"See?" Daniel said gently and warmly, patting Anna on the top of the head and ruffling her short blonde hair. "It wasn't so bad, was it??" Anna didn't respond, too busy looking down at her belly, admiring herself. She rubbed it, feeling the baby inside move around. "Oh wow!" Anna breathed. She looked up into Amber's eyes. "It feels great," Anna said to her. "You're going to love it!"

Amber immediately jumped up and said "Ok, do me now!!" She quickly undressed as Daniel laughed softly. Within minutes, Daniel was in her, thrusting softly. Anna watched them as she continued to rub her belly, smiling!! Happily, she thought, "I have a pregnant belly of my very own, and soon Amber will have one too!!"

Amber filled up just as quickly as Anna had done, and when Daniel pulled out, Amber was sporting a full term bump that rivaled Anna's, smiling happily and rubbing it. Daniel redressed as Amber started cooing and talking softly to her belly.

"My job is also to assist you with the births," Daniel said to them. "You'll have about 10 minutes to enjoy your pregnancy before labor begins." "I'm here to help any way I can, though some couples and even friends have found it a much more intimate and enjoyable experience to have only each other for support, and refuse the help of staff during labor." "If you would prefer that, then..."

"Yeah," Amber said, as Anna nodded. "We prefer to be alone during labor! Just us!!"

"Very well," Daniel said, smiling. "The room is all yours until the babies are born." "I will give you both some privacy!" "Make yourselves comfortable any way you can!" "When you are ready to leave, just press that button by the door and I or another staff member will assist you!" Daniel opened the door and said "Enjoy your pregnancies!" before closing it again, leaving the girls alone to admire themselves and each other.

It was the most glorious 10 minutes the two girls had ever experienced in their lives. They rubbed and felt each other's bellies, compared the sizes of them, (Anna's was slightly bigger), and talked about how much they enjoyed feeling pregnant, and wondering which of them would go into labor first.

Quite suddenly, Anna felt the baby drop into her hips and let out a cry of pain. "AAAHHH!!" "Amber, I think I'm in labor!!"

Amber responded with a loud moan of her own. "I...I am too!"

The two girls clutched their bellies, moaning and crying as the pain and pressure built. They decided to walk around the room, slowly waddling and whimpering as the contractions quickly worsened. Then, after a few minutes of this, Anna felt her water break, and a splash told her Amber's had too.

"AAAHHH, I NEED TO PUSH!!" Amber screamed out and immediately bore down, as Anna fell back onto one of the beds, panting!! "It hurts!!" She cried. "Amber, it hurts!"

"I know," Amber responded "But just push when you feel like you have toooooooo!!" Amber let out a long moan as the baby pushed through her birth canal. Using the mirror on the opposite wall, Amber could see the head already beginning to crown.

Anna was crying hysterically. She wailed when the baby pushed, and her legs trembled as a head began to poke out of her as well. Amber pushed hard, realizing that her friend needed her badly, to coach her. Amber tried to ignore the pain as she pushed the head out. "AAAAHHHHHH!!" she screamed as the head crowned and then popped out, just as Anna gave the most horrible scream yet. "I'm coming, Anna baby, I'm coming!" Amber said, panting, the head hanging between her legs.

Anna screamed and screamed as the baby began to emerge. Faintly, she heard a baby crying from Amber's corner of the room, and then her friend was there next to her, clutching her hand and trying to calm her. "It's ok, Anna, it's ok," Amber told her. "Oh, God, it hurts," Anna cried between heavy breaths. "Anna, you gotta push," Amber said to her, gently but firmly.

Anna pushed, and then let out a cry of agony as the baby crowned. "IT BURNS!!" Anna yelled. "AAAAHHHHH!!" Amber watched as the head emerged, realizing that this baby was bigger than the one she herself had birthed. Amber squeezed Anna's hand as the girl screamed and screamed, stretching her legs even wider to accommodate the large head. After another minute of this, the head finally popped out and Amber caught the baby as it slid from Anna's vagina.

Anna's baby was a 10 pound boy, Amber's a 6 pound girl. The friends found that whatever had accelerated their pregnancies and births also made them recover almost instantly. The two girls decided to send the babies to the New Life Clinic, where they would be adopted by families that wanted children but couldn't have them of their own. As the two girls left the attraction, chatting happily about the experience, they decided that they would one day come back and do it again, and maybe even bring friends!!

End!

#pregnancy #giving birth #birth #pregnant #rapid pregnancy

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arhvste · 4 years ago

Text

❝ kuroo tetsurō - tetsuhoe ❞

in which kuroo is confused by the ‘playboy’ image pinned onto him after a practice match at fukurodani much to you, his long term girlfriends, amusement

tetsu week masterlist

“did you see the captains for nekoma’s team yesterday?”

“oh their tall middle blocker with the bed hair? he was something else!”

“i just know he’s got girls crawling all over him back at nekoma. i think i’m gonna transfer schools!”

your eyebrow raised in amusement towards the girls nearby who were mindlessly babbling on about a particular rooster headed captain you were familiar with.

the high praise he was recovering in your classroom would certainly give him an ego boost, realistically though, these girls couldn’t have been further from the truth; you were partially thankful for that.

akaashi took notice of your entertained expression as he took his seat beside you in the unsupervised classroom.

“ah,” he clicked his tongue gesturing towards the squealing girls. “they’re talking about kuroo-san when they had the practice match here yesterday.”

you nodded towards your own school teams setter and smiled. “listen to them.” you hummed as akaashi leaned a little further on his desk facing towards the small group of girls nearby.

“what was his name again?”

“i’m not sure, i never got the chance to go down and talk to him!”

“whatever his name is i know it’s one i want to scream”

“you’re so bad!”

akaashi cringed at the rawness of these girls vocabulary. so they thought kuroo was hot? why they couldn’t just word it like that and leave it at that, akaashi would never know. he turned to face you as you pulled your phone out to discreetly record the girls fussing over your boyfriend.

“y/n, isn’t that a little... intrusive?” akaashi quirked an eyebrow towards your smug expression.

“this isn’t an act of jealousy but rather amusement. besides, aren’t they being a little intrusive speaking about my boyfriend like this? tetsu’s gonna shit himself when he hears this, they’ve mischaracterised him completely.”

akaashi nodded before casting his gaze back over to the girls before looking back towards you while you were texting the very boy the girls in your classroom were raving about.

“aren’t you bothered by it?”

you laughed and shook your head firmly.

“no no! not at all, i can’t blame them for being head over heels for him i mean, i fell for him too didn’t i?”

“by some miracle.” akaashi shot back to which you scoffed before turning your attention back down to the device in your hands.

you made quick work of sending the video to your boyfriend and captioning ‘can i tell the girls your name? they want to know for when you have them scream it’ before shutting your phone off and going back to casual conversation with akaashi before the teacher entered and the class simmered down for work.

back at nekoma, kuroo was currently scrolling through the multiple automated notifications piling up on his phone until your name caught his eye. quickly tapping the screen to open snapchat, kuroo smiled softly at the sight of the little purple square under ‘pretty one <3’.

he wasted no time in pressing down on the video to watch whatever it was you had sent him. turning up the volume, kuroo’s eyes widened a little at the caption you had typed out to go along with the video.

“scream it?” he muttered quietly to himself but not quietly enough to miss kenma’s ears.

“what are you watching?” the bleached haired setter asked bordly.

“y/n’s sent me a video but i don’t really understand.” he mumbled pressing down on the outlines square to get the video to replay once more for kenma to see what he was talking about.

kenma’s face twisted into one of disgust as he feigned a gag to kuroo’s offence.

“is it that unbelievable others find me attractive?”

“it’s not even believable y/n finds you attractive yet alone other girls.”

“you wound me.”

“not physically so you can’t complain.”

kuroo snickered before sending back a picture of himself with a puzzled expression and a grossed out looking kenma with the caption ‘kenma didn’t appreciate the honest content, glad to know the girls at your school have working eyes though?’.

he frowned after shutting his phone off as kenma took a seat besides him on the bench besides the court.

“that was weird, i don’t come across as that type of boy do i?”

kenma shrugged and pulled his own phone out, his attention now divided between his bestfriend and his devices.

“not here you don’t. the girls at fukurōdani just sound annoying and superficial minus y/n obviously.”

kenma muttered, his fingers tapping across his own screen.

“well then, i don’t suppose it’s matters too much then. i hope y/n isn’t too bothered by it though, as much as i love the praise, i don’t want it from anyone but her in that sense.”

“whipped.” kenma tutted quietly as kuroo smiled.

“that, i am.”

a week had passed and the two of you had forgotton about the fuss that the girls in your class had made over kuroo. there was no practice match to attend, but bokuto had insisted yourself, kuroo, kenma and akaashi all come over for dinner by the request of his mother and sisters who had complained how they hadn’t seen the four of you for a while together.

kuroo and kenma (kenma begrudgingly however), agreed to meet the three of you outside the entrance of fukurōdani to join you on your journey back to the bokuto residence.

kenma was reluctant to stand out in what obviously wasn’t a fukurōdani school uniform, but kuroo didn’t mind. it wasn’t rare for students from neighbouring schools to wait for other students after school hours as friendship groups outside of schools obviously existed.

kenma was leaning against the wall of the school gates and kuroo was stood beside him texting the group chat that the two of them had arrived and were waiting for them outside. his attention on his phone and not to those around him, kuroo failed to noticed the high pitched shrills of excitement ringing through the air at the sight of him.

“it’s him! the nekoma captain!”

“i’m gonna talk to him this time, do i look okay?”

“you look fine but i’m the one who’s gonna get his number so don’t get in my way.”

“you can’t say that! it’s whoever he picks!”

by now, kenma had picked up on the bickering of the girls which he considered impressive because usually he’d be able to block out anything outside of his psp.

“annoying.” he muttered coldly before doing his best to turn his attention back to his game.

“hi!”

kuroos head snapped up and he was met with a small group of girls that seemed to be growing with each student that left the gates of the school.

“um... hi?”

his face twisted in confusion as he silently begged yourself, bokuto or even akaashi to come out the gates and rescue him.

“so, you played here the other day didn’t you? you were really good.” one girl praised, her index finger twirling around the front strands of her hair.

“obviously he is. we go to a powerhouse school.” kenma muttered sharply more to himself than anything but it didn’t fail to garner a few dirty looks from the girls. not that kenma could’ve cared less anyway.

“uh thanks. you guys are kinda blocking up the path, you might wanna uh, go home?” kuroo suggested his concern growing at the same rate the group of girls were.

other students were beginning to take notice and while some girls added themselves to the group, other student shot kuroo an apologetic glance to which he half smiled back to.

“this is our territory, we’ll go home when we get your number.” one girl boldly stated to which other girls agreed.

“my girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate it.” he stated matter-o-factly.

the girls faces pulled in disgust and others humour while the ‘leader’ of the group scoffed.

“you don’t have a girlfriend. boys like you don’t settle so just give a few of us your number and eventually you’ll fall for one of us, although it’s more than likely going to be me.”

“actually, i’ve fallen for a girl already and i’ve fallen in deep. there’s no pulling me out so you might aswell run along no? are your parents not worried as to why you’re coming home so late?”

kuroo was growing more irritated than amused by now and he wanted nothing more than your hand in his at that very moment.

“stop lying and just give it to us. why do you treat the nekoma girls differently from us?”

“kuroo-san treats all girls other than y/n, his girlfriend of over a year differently. you’re not deprived so i suggest taking your leave before you cause any more disruption to anyone else.”

“akaashi!” kuroo smiled thankfully to which akaashi only nodded curtly before allowing you to walk by him wide smile drawn across your face.

“tetsu! kenma! i’m so glad to see you both!” you shoved past the shocked girls as you pulled yourself into kuroo’s arms as he happily accepted the gesture.

“i’m relieved to see you kitten.” he replied, the nickname stirring loss over the rest of the girls.

“whatever, you weren’t that hot anyway.” the main girl huffed purely out of embarrassment because not only had she been outdone by yourself, been rejected in public, but she’d also been told off by akaashi and his cold and flat tone did nothing to sugar coat the scolding.

“lying is a bad habit you know!” bokuto added earning a soft laugh from you.

if the girls weren’t embarrassed before, they certainly were now seeing as their own schools captain was now joining in.

“let’s just go.”

the girls filed down the street, embarrassment and regret written across their faces.

“why did you take so long?” kuroo whined as he pulled away to look at you.

“well, if there wasn’t a group of girls rushing through the halls to go see the ‘hot captain from before’ blocking the hallways, i would’ve been faster coming out.”

“i’m just glad you’re here now.” he smiled as the four of you began to walk down the street towards bokuto’s house.

“we’ve never had another captain stir so much commotion before, you must’ve really caught their short minded attention.” akaashi commented as kuroo told you all about the comments about him not having a girlfriend were made.

“yeah tetsuhoe.”

“what did you just call me?”

you snickered as you squeezed his hand.

“you heard me womaniser.”

kuroo groaned as kenma smirked at your teasing.

“you’re the only woman i want.” he sighed as bokuto awed at the two of you.

“yeah? good to know, glad i’m special enough for your attention.” you teased further as the others slowly began to join in much to kuroo’s dismay.

feigning annoyance was hard to do around you, but kuroo was just glad you weren’t bitter over the whole situation. he knew you knew you were the one for him.

playboy reputation or not, kuroo was happy just knowing you were confident in your postion in his heart.

and he’d be sure to remind you the next time he got you alone.

dt - @aislastetsu

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @tsumue @peteunderoos @tsukkisbean @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @dai-tsukki-desu @angrylittleriri @tsukkaria @kuxredere @warakou @mattsuny @lovinnoya @sophiashortcake

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo fanfic #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq #hq x reader #hq x you #tetsu.week<3

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adorethedistance · 4 years ago

Text

READING MY BOYFRIEND’S FANFICTION?? - Owen Joyner x Influencer!Reader

JATP masterlist

Requested: OMGGG!! Could you do a an Owen fic based around his girlfriend being an armature youtuber/social media influencer (shes also an actress and they met on set and have been dating for a while) and it’s “reading/reacting to my boyfriend’s fanfiction” ? You can do whatever you want with the fanfic part it’s just a concept that has been running around in my head for a while. LOVE ALL YOUR WORK!!

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, very mild

Words: 1460

A/N: A fic?? From Ace?? Hi. I’m off spring break officially and so my stress has dissipated immensely. School was becoming so much these last two weeks and I thought I’d be stressed or worried, but I’m actually fine? It’s weird lol so I decided I could be productive with my stress-free moment and post a little fic for y’all. I love this prompt, and before any of you writers panic, I’m using my own fics for the fanfictions because I wouldn’t want to put y’all on the spot like that. Also this is my 3000 post! thought that was cool lol

“Do you wanna do the intro?”

“I think I have to do the intro.”

“Okay, go for it.”

“Alright,” Owen sighs out a heavy breath in exaggerated preparation for my (some would say lengthy) intro. “Hello, hi. Yes, okay, this is Y/n Y/l/n vlogs, welcome or welcome back to my channel!” Once Owen finishes his statement I’m so stunned I can’t generate any sort of response other than a slacked jaw semi smile.

“That was not even close. Do you know my intro?”

“I got the first part right!”

“You’ve lost intro privileges,” I turn back to the mess of lights and tripods in front of me and ignore the disaster of an intro Owen offered. “Oh, hello, hi! I am Y/n and this is: Reading My Boyfriend’s Fanfiction!”

“That’s basically what I did.”

“No, it is not! It’s ‘oh, hello, hi. I am ‘name’ and this is: ‘title of video’.”

“You don’t ‘welcome to my channel’?” Owen’s voice has dropped to a hushed volume as he genuinely inquires about the segments of my usual introduction.

“I do not.”

“Don’t use any of this,” he pleads when making direct eye contact with the camera. “Mister Sid. Editing Sid, please don’t embarrass me.” His pleas fall on deaf ears, knowing that I’ll be using the footage in full.

“Anyways. Butchered intro aside, I am Y/n and today I am here with my lovely “So Many Stars” costar and scene partner, Owen Joyner!”

“I’m also your boyfriend.”

“That too,” I give Owen’s pointed comment a soft place to land, “So, yesterday--it was actually like, two weeks ago, I don’t know why I said yesterday--a little while back, I came across a tweet telling me someone had written a fanfic about us-”

“Did you read it?”

“On Wattpad. Of course, I read it. There are only three chapters up right now and they’re all in the 2-3k range so it was a quick read.”

“2-3k?”

“Words,” I reply nonchalantly as I unlock my phone. I bookmarked a few one-shots beforehand for us to read, and I’m slightly cocky about my selections. Owen then responds with an outburst of shock.

“2-3 thousand words is a short read?” I merely give him a blank stare.

“Judging by that reaction, Owen hasn’t read any fanfics in his life.”

“Is that not long to you- That’s what she said.” Owen cuts me off with his own stupid joke and I briefly sigh before answering.

“No, that isn’t long. Baby, I’m here for that 130k slow burn enemies to lovers on AO3 with the ‘only one bed’ and ‘locked in a closet’ tropes.”

“The what?”

“Oh, we have so much to catch you up on.”

__________________________

“So I saved three fics, an angst, a fluff, and a smut. Which do you want to read?”

“Wait, what does that mean?”

“Oh my- okay. Angst is the sad shit, it’s what you read when you need your heartbroken and a good cry. Smut is pretty much in the name, it’s explicit content that will undoubtedly get this video demonetized, but that’s okay because we do have a sponsor. And fluff is the cute moments, domestic and sometimes mundane romance that makes you smile like an idiot and put the device down to screech into a pillow.” Throughout my whole explanation, I can tell Owen was becoming more and more lost, so I opt to give him a few moments to collect his thoughts.

“Let’s start with the fluff just to ease into things.”

“Smart choice. This fic I have saved is called ‘Baby Fever’ and the summary says ‘you and Owen spend a day at the zoo babysitting Baby Shada, and her presence sparks conversation about adding a new presence of your very own’.”

“That sounds so ominous.”

“Here, I’ll read the narration and reader’s POV, and then you’ll read your own dialogue.” Owen nods and leans over my right shoulder to read off of my computer screen.

“You actually start the fic.”

“‘You ready, little one?’” The instantaneous actor mode Owen slips into has me howling with laughter at which he looks at me confused. My gasping for air makes Owen laugh empathetically despite still being unsure as to what’s killing me at the moment.

“Why are you laughing?!” He yells, dramatically shaking my shoulder.

“Just the way you jumped into that, I wasn’t prepared for you to turn on the acting charm. Okay, uhhhh, ‘I bite back a laugh when I hear Owen’s voice coo from the back seat’.”

The two of us go back and forth between reading the narrative, bouts of laughter, commentary on the accuracy of Owen’s character, and we finally manage to finish the 2.5k fic in about forty minutes.

“‘When he looks up from CJ’s tiny body and recognizes the familiar ‘baby fever’ look in my eyes, he smiles and utters a simple-’.”

“‘I told you so.’”

“That was cute! I like the tie-in of having us watching over Baby Shada- or, sorry, you and ‘y/n’ watching over Baby Shada.”

“They wrote me kinda funny, I don’t think I’d ever fabricate a life to make conversation with a stranger due to baby fever.” My jaw drops slightly and before Owen can respond to my reaction, I cry,

“That is such a lie!”

“What?”

“You absolutely would do something like that, are you kidding me?!”

“No, I would not!” Owen punctuates every word with the utmost offense. He has the same look in his eye as when he was proving himself to be the cleanest phantom of the three on the Sunset Drive podcast.

“You literally told the guy at Home Depot yesterday that we were buying plants for our child’s nursery!”

“Okay, that’s different-”

“How is that different? That’s the exact same thing as fanfic you!” Owen’s furrowed brow and dropped jaw are a sight to be seen as he leans away from me, bending at the waist to stare at me with defiance. I raise my eyebrows pointedly as I await a response. Instead of actually producing a response, Owen lunges forward, grabbing my waist in his hands and squeezing gently. The feeling makes me screech and gasp of laughter from surprise and also being ticklish.

“Owen! Owe-STOP, I’m gonna drop my laptop!” I manage to say through my laughter and with one final grab, he releases me from his hold. It takes a minute for my laughter to settle but once I do, the two of us are simply breathing heavy and staring at one another with giddy smiles on our faces. In a moment’s clarity, I turn to look into the camera lens to talk directly to my editor,

“Sid, don’t use any of this. And please don’t cut to this after we finish reading to make it look like- things were happening.”

“Actually, I think you should, Sid. Just cut to right there and make the world think we-”

“OKAY, thanks for watching, bye!” I quickly stop the recording before Owen says something we’re unable to recover from. I hear him laugh gently behind me as I set my laptop down on the coffee table behind the tripod. Coming back to the couch, I move to plop down but before landing successfully on the cushion next to my phone, Owen grabs my body and moves me to sit on top of him.

“You are crazy, you know that?”

“Hmm. Crazy for you, maybe.” His cheesy line makes me scoff but smile nonetheless. I reach my right hand up to caress the side of his face as we sit cheek to cheek.

“Remind me to never film with you again.” The gesture is sweet and the sentiment is not which makes Owen laugh and he presses a soft kiss to my cheek. I lean back into him so my back is pressed flush with his chest as he lazily wraps both arms around me.

“You say that now but you’ll regret it when you wanna do a ‘boyfriend does my makeup’ challenge video.”

“Nah. I’ll just call Charlie to-” Without allowing me to finish my sentence, Owen is digging his fingertips back into the tissue of my sides and I squeal with laughter once more. This time the torment is short-lived and Owen releases me after a sweet, reconciling kiss. “Do you have baby fever now?”

“It was cute and all, but not really, no.”

“That’s too bad,” I stand up from my spot on his lap to grab my computer and hold it to my chest, “I was gonna say we could practice some baby-making.”

And with that, I turned on the balls of my feet, heading for my bedroom when I heard Owen stand up eagerly, quick to follow.

***

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell@n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki@vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul

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intheticklecloset · 4 years ago

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Burn Some Calories (Haikyuu!!)

Primary Universe

Thank you, first anon! Your request made me so happy! I love Nishinoya! I want more of him in my life! General yelling about how awesome and adorable he is! Yaaaaaah! Anyway, enjoy! ^^

2. “Take that back!”

5. “You don’t have it in you.” “Are you sure about that?”

30. “Are you crazy? I can’t last that long!”

“Eat my dust!” Noya laughed as his racer blazed by Asahi’s on the track.

Asahi glanced at his smaller friend for a brief moment, smirking. Noya was always energetic, but somehow while playing video games that energy just went so far beyond the next level it nearly broke through the atmosphere. This was only their second race, but watching his friend get so worked up over fictional characters in a game that ultimately didn’t matter was highly amusing to Asahi.

I wonder if he’d freak out over suddenly losing? The ace thought, and no sooner had he wondered it than he was testing it, reaching over at the end of the third lap to grab onto Noya’s ribs and tickle.

“AIEEE!!” Noya screeched, bursting into laughter. “Nohohohoho, you cahahahahan’t do that! Asahiehehehehehehe!” The libero cackled madly, but somehow managed to stay in control of his racer just long enough to cross the finish line, at which point he shoved at his friend’s hand to free himself. “That was a dirty move.”

The ace chuckled, crossing the finish line a few places behind Noya, but it had been worth it to get that reaction. He set his controller aside and playfully grabbed his friend’s leg, yanking his foot into his lap and scribbling wildly over the socked sole. “I was hoping you’d get mad about that. I guess nothing fazes you, huh?” Nothing, that is, except tickling.

“Stahahahahahahap!” Noya shrieked, using his free leg to try and kick Asahi away. “No fahahahahair, you knohohohohow I’m tihihihihihicklish!” At that moment the doorbell rang, bringing a stop to their playfulness as Noya twisted out of the ace’s grasp. “Pizza’s here!” he declared, hurrying to the front door.

Asahi grinned at the retreating figure, then lowered the volume on their game, content to let it sit on the screen between races, waiting for someone to let it know to move on to track three. He got up and moved into the kitchen just as Noya was returning, pizza box and 2-liter soda in hand.

“Finally, we can eat,” the libero said, setting both items on the table and lifting the lid of the box all in one fluid movement.

“Hold on a second, Noya,” Asahi said, doing his best to sound serious despite his ulterior motives. “We are actively in volleyball season. We have to be careful about what we’re eating.”

Noya stared at him. “Dude, we ordered a pizza forever ago. If you thought it was a bad idea you should have said something then, not now.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean we’ve got to watch our calories.” Asahi pushed down on the lid of the box, closing it as Noya frowned in confusion.

“Whatever calories we get we’ll burn off in practice. What’s your deal, Asahi?”

Deciding it would be best to jump right into his mischievous intentions rather than risk Noya getting mad at him, he grabbed the little libero and hoisted him over his shoulder, carrying him back into the living room.

“Whoa, whoa! What are you doing?!” Noya cried, grabbing onto Asahi’s shirt for support in the seconds before he was suddenly flying through the air, landing on the ace’s beanbag chair with an “oomph!” When he suddenly found himself straddled with both wrists pinned over his head and wiggling fingers in his field of vision, Nishinoya realized what was about to happen, and he grinned nervously.

“I think,” said Asahi, smirking down at him, “we should burn off those calories before you eat, hmm?”

“What about you?” Noya retorted, letting out a yelp when the ace lunged for his helpless ribcage, stopping just before making contact. He blushed, embarrassed.

“I don’t need to worry about calories. It’s all muscle for me. But you’re just a little guy. You have to be more careful.”

Noya gasped, pretending to be offended. “How dare you! Take that bahahahahahack!” He giggled when those fingers finally started scribbling. “Gah – nohohohohoho! Asahi!”

Asahi beamed, thoroughly enjoying himself. When he’d found out last year that Noya was extremely ticklish, he’d vowed not to use it against his friend too much – but every now and again, he simply couldn’t resist.

“Let’s see…I think about thirty minutes of tickle torture will be enough to burn off the calories you’ll get from eating that pizza, don’t you?”

“Whahahahahahahat?!” Noya cried, giggling helplessly. “Are you crahahahahazy? I cahahan’t last that lohohohohohong!”

“It’s either that or you don’t eat as much pizza.” Asahi shrugged. “If you want, I’ll only tickle you for fifteen minutes and then eat the rest of your share for you.”

“Thahahahahahat’s not fahahahahair!”

“I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

“You jeheheheheheheherk! The pihihihihizza will be cohohohohohohold by thehehehen!”

Asahi hummed contemplatively. “Then I guess I’ll have to speed things up. How about five minutes nonstop on your worst spots? That should do it.”

“No!” Noya shrieked, but Asahi was already digging harder into his ribs, turning his giggling into laughter. “Gahahahahahahaha nohohohohohohohoho! Asahihihiehehehehehehehe!”

“Orrrr,” the ace drew out the word teasingly, “if you want, instead of eating the rest of your share, I could fill up on ribs instead.”

Noya couldn’t take being messed with like this. What sucked even more was that Asahi had strength and height to his advantage, so no matter how much he struggled, he knew he wasn’t getting away until the ace said so. The libero scoffed. “Y-Yohohohou dohohon’t hahahahahave it in you.”

“Oh?”

Immediately Noya knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

“Nononono, wait, wait, I was joking, please Asahi—”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Wait! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Nishinoya tossed his head back and screeched, kicking his legs uselessly as Asahi nibbled on his exposed ribs. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE ASAHIHIEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!” The ticklish sensations were so strong and so maddening, Noya felt like he was losing his grip on sanity being tortured like this. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Asahi let up, allowing his friend a chance to breathe. When the libero met his eyes, the ace grinned wickedly. “Don’t wanna.” Then he leaned down to nibble along the other set of ribs, relishing in the screams of laughter he produced, enjoying how Noya squirmed and kicked beneath him to no avail. The second-year outshone him in so many ways, it felt good to be able to outdo him in at least one activity. Plus, Noya’s laughter was loud and screechy and uncontrollable. It was the best sound ever.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Noya begged, unable to stand the strong tickly feeling emanating from his ribcage as Asahi nibbled. “PLEASE, PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! PLEASE, ASAHI!!”

Again the ace let up, allowing Noya the opportunity to gasp for air. “Hmm…we’re burning off some calories, that’s for sure. But I think a little more tickling is in order before I can in good conscience let you have some pizza.”

Noya groaned, but he was grinning ear to ear, secretly enjoying this as much as Asahi was. “You jeheherk, I hahahahate you…”

“Okay, so we’ll burn a few more calories for that comment.” Asahi wiggled his fingers in Noya’s underarm, grinning when the libero instantly burst into hysterics again.

“GOD, YOU SUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“A few more calories, then. You really want your entire half, don’t you?”

“OF COHOHOHOHOHOURSE I DO, YOU PIEHEHEHECE OF—NAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Nishinoya screamed when Asahi leaned down to blow a raspberry on his belly. “OKAY, OKAY, I’M SOHOHOHOHOHORRY!! NO RAHAHAHAHAHASPBERRIES!!”

Asahi chuckled. Raspberries were his trump card when it came to making Noya submit. They worked every single time.

“PLEHEHEASE, I CAHAHAHAN’T TAKE ANY MOHOHOHOHORE!! LET ME GOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

“I think you can.” Asahi smiled, scooting up so he was straddling Noya’s lower stomach, using his free hand to reach behind him and squeeze at one of his thighs.

Noya would have bucked his hips if he weren’t stuck in this position, laughter bubbling out of him once more, this time more frantic and hysterical than the last. “NOHOHOHOHO, NO, ASAHI NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!!”

“I think a couple more minutes should do the trick.”

“I CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T LAST THAT LOHOHOHOHONG!! PLEASE – PLEASE – NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Noya laughed and laughed and laughed, unable to hold back even a little bit as Asahi squeezed and kneaded into first one thigh, then the other, then back again, over and over for a solid minute and a half at least.

Asahi watched Noya’s face contort with uncontrollable joy, his voice coming out in loud screams for mercy, his body thrashing helplessly beneath his firm hold, and the ace couldn’t help but smile endearingly at the sight. Every once in a while, it was fun to turn his confident friend into a complete and total wreck.

When Noya’s pleas for mercy started coming out in wheezing gasps, Asahi decided he’d had enough for today and let him go, releasing his wrists and climbing off of him. He sat on the floor beside the beanbag, waiting patiently for him to recover.

“I h-hate you…” Noya said at last, his voice breathy and little hoarse. “The pizza’s gonna be cold now…”

“I have a microwave.”

“It’s not the same.” The libero groaned as he sat up, turning to look at his upperclassman with a tired smirk. “Been a while since you decided to really destroy me like that.”

Asahi chuckled, getting to his feet and helping Noya up behind him. “Couldn’t resist.”

Noya grinned, leading the way back into the kitchen. “Come on, ace. I think I more than deserve those calories now.”

#fanfiction #tickle fic #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #yuu #nishinoya #noya #asahi #azumane #ace #libero #pizza #calories #playful #teasing #fluff #cute #fun #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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naralanis · 4 years ago

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little bumps in the road (pt. 22)

Previously on LBitR...

Despite J’onn’s somewhat encouraging parting words, Lena felt anything but prepared once he left her and Alex to their brightly lit little cells in this god-forsaken bunker.

Yeah, she ‘knew.’ So what?

At the very least, it just means that she needs to anticipate Lex’s next move. Fantastic; it’s not like she’s been trying and failing to do precisely that for as long as she’s known him.

At best, it means J’onn is hinting at some kind of advantage he seems to think she possesses. That’s the part Lena hasn’t quite figured out yet, and the clock is ticking. For all she knows, Kara may as well be flying right over their heads, and they would be none the wiser… that is, until Lex decides it’s time to play with his toys.

Alex grumbles in her cell, the sheets of her cot rustling as she shifts to sit up. She blinks at Lena for a few moments, studying her, yet not surprised to see her there in the slightest.

She looks like shit.

“Please tell me you’ve got a watch,” Alex mumbles in lieu of a greeting, voice hoarse and slightly groggy.

Lena shakes her head in the negative. Her eyes are glued to the bandages at Alex’s temple—they are crisp and clean, except for a slight, dark red spot right at the center. The agent follows her line of sight with a wry chuckle.

“I tried to get at mine, too,” she explains with a droopy wave at her temple and a tight shrug. “Almost got it, too, before Brainy informed me I was about to melt my brain or something. Lovely little gizmo your brother got us.”

Lena sighs, ashamed despite herself. Alex keeps on speaking, sounding amused—Lena isn’t sure if it’s because she’s using humour to cope with this thoroughly unpleasant, hopeless situation, or if the painkillers they gave her were just that good.

“I have to admit, I am glad I didn’t try it with a fucking piece of glass,” Alex quips as she stands up and stretches. Lena can hear the pop of every vertebrae as the agent cranes her neck.

“So,” Alex continues in the face of Lena’s silence, approaching the crystal-clear barrier separating them and clapping her hands loudly. Her walk is still a little wobbly. “We can’t get these things off. What’s the plan then, Luthor?”

Lena—who so far has just been standing in the same spot, biting her lip and mulling over what J’onn had said—whips back to face the agent so fast she almost gives herself whiplash.

“Plan?” she says, feeling her voice squeak in the way it often does when she’s about to descend into hysterics. That has been happening a little too frequently as of late, so she takes a moment to close her eyes and breathe deeply through her nose, centering herself.

“There is no plan,” she says, crossing her arms—the cast makes the familiar action a tad awkward, and it takes her a few seconds to get it somewhat right.

Alex simply eyes her impassively for a few moments, and then loudly sucks air through her teeth and releases it. “OK, then,” she says, not sounding as resigned as the situation probably warrants, which throws Lena for a loop. “So, we make a new one.”

Lena wants to make a sarcastic comment about what kind of meds they must have given Alex for her to entertain such a ridiculous notion, but she reins it in at the last moment and opts for a skeptical quirk of her brow instead.

“By all means,” she drawls, unable to keep her sarcasm fully at bay. “If you have any suggestions, I’m all ears, because I frankly don’t have any. We’re locked in an underground bunker until Lex decides to have his way with the nifty little implants he gave us.”

Alex nods, smacking her lips. “I don’t accept that.”

Lena releases a humorless laugh. “I suggest you start,” she waves her broken hand around her cell. “Because it’s pretty hard to ignore.”

Alex takes a few more steps forward; she’s so close her breath fogs the glass. “Then work it out, Luthor.” She puts a finger on the glass; it thunks oddly loudly against the smooth surface as she taps away to punctuate her words. “The way I see it, Lex is going to activate these things in our heads any minute now. I would very much like either of us not hurting my baby sister, thank you very much. So out with it.”

Lena huffs, irked by the demand. “You think I want to hurt Kara? You think I wanted to do it the first time?!”

“You have hurt her before,” Alex retorts. Her tone is calm, but Lena feels it like a slap in the face. “I don’t think you wanted to kill her, but you did encase her in Kryptonite. Don’t act like you’re above hurting her.”

Lena wants to say something back, but her words are stuck in her throat. Alex doesn’t give her a chance to recover and speak, but the gentleness in her tone keeps throwing Lena off.

“And that’s exactly what Lex is going to use against you—what he has used against you already.” She smiles, a little sadly. “You wouldn’t be standing there thinking about what J’onn said if you didn’t think there’s something you can use to get us all out of this mess.”

Lena only realizes she’s crying when her tears cool her cheeks in the dry air of the cell. She steps forward, almost as close to the barrier as Alex is. “It might be nothing,” she says, biting at her lip.

Alex puts her whole palm onto the glass. “But it might be something.”

Lena lets out a wry laugh. “Maybe.” She looks back at Alex, focus narrowing at the bandages at her temple and her matching ones in the reflection of the glass. “When you tried to reach your suppressed memories, how did it feel?”

“Like shit.” Alex shrugs. “Well. That’s an understatement,” she adds on, running a hand through her cropped hair. “It was agony. Hot. Like… lightning in my head. White and bright.”

Lena nods. “When Lex captured me… He triggered something like that—he used specific words to trigger that reaction; though I felt it before… when you met me and Kara in Metropolis, when I tried to remember what really happened.”

Lena’s gaze meets with Alex, and the agent looks more than a little lost. Lena surmises her memories aren’t entirely back just yet. She sighs, waving it away. “That’s not important. But I did accidentally manage to… snap out of it—I stopped whatever he triggered, somehow. And then I tried to dig out the implant,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.

Alex’s forehead bumps against the glass. “How did you stop it?”

Lena chuckles wryly, and raises her casted hand. “I shocked my body out of it,” she explains. “I slammed my broken hand onto a table, and the pain gave me something else to focus on. Then I just…” she flounders, then, because how can Lena explain that she packed whatever Lex had triggered in her brain away into a mental box without sounding like a lunatic?

“You just what?”

Lena sighs, knocks her head against the barrier in frustration. “I put it away,” she mumbles.

Alex blinks. “Excuse me. You did what now?”

“I put it away, Alex. I—I don’t know, I compartmentalized it. I separated it from whatever else I was thinking and feeling, until I could get a handle on it.”

She turns her gaze back to Alex, ready to see the judgement in her eyes, ready to hear her tell Lena she thinks she’s crazy.

To her surprise, the agent looks… impressed.

“OK,” Alex says slowly. “Do you think you could do it again?”

Lena opens her mouth, closes it again. That’s the question, isn’t it? Is that what she’s prepared for? Is that what J’onn meant when he said she knows what to expect?

“Maybe,” she says, only half believing it. “I don’t know.”

“Do you remember what Lex said to trigger the implant?”

Lena nods a somber affirmative. “Do you?”

Alex shakes her head, but her gaze is hopeful. “If you do, maybe… maybe you can turn it around. It’s like a magic trick,” she says, trying to be helpful. “Once you know how it works, the illusion is gone.”

Lena wants to point out that Q-wave and memory manipulation is far from a simple magic trick, but Alex’s words resonate in her mind—how much has she replayed exactly what Lex had said when he left her?

She opens her mouth to speak, but a loud buzzing interrupts her. It seems to be coming from Alex’s pocket—the agent gives her a sheepish look as she pulls out something that looks like a pager.

“I do hope you figure it out soon,” Alex says, eyeing the device grimly. She turns to show Lena a miniscule screen—the contraption was obviously left by Nia or Brainy for one purpose and one purpose only, and Lena’s heart is in her throat when she sees the recognizable sigil blinking over a familiar map. “Because Kara’s back.”

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13atoms · 3 years ago

Text

Deep Focus: Chapter 1 [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

Summary: Tom’s a successful porn director with a romantic streak which proves very popular with his female audience. His resident porn actress and business partner has been with him through thick and thin, the two of them growing completely inseparable, even as her own career starts taking off.

But working in such close proximity is intense, and burgeoning feelings threaten to complicate their professional relationship.

Mature, smut, porn director!AU, ethical porn production discussion, porn-star-and-coworker!reader. Friends to lovers, slow-ish burn. [7.7k]

________________________________________________________

There was such a style to everything Tom wrote, everything he directed. A sincere passion that you suspected was always meant to be used elsewhere. You wondered if his craftsmanship was ever appreciated, on the other side of the screen, as strangers got hot and bothered watching each meticulously designed frame of his vision come to life.

Sure, it was porn. But Tom directed it like he could win an Oscar for ‘hot lifeguard pounded poolside’. This was his livelihood, his passion, and it was a damn shame he wasn’t award-season eligible.

The names would make you wince, as you saw them uploaded to the site, thumbnails and previews drawing in viewers by the million with their shots of heaving bodies and glistening sweat. Tom never called the videos such crass things. Not in his scripts. You would get copies titled ‘Romantic Night In’ or ‘Office Love Affair.’ He was a fan of sugar-coating what would be inside those innocuous white pages, a veneer of respectability which Tom insisted upon, regardless of how obvious the true nature of the videos was. But once the videos were sold, it was out of his hands. Your face contorted mid-faux-orgasm would be plastered across the site, and everyone involved would try and forget what happened.

Ignore the comments.

Keep moving.

You often wondered how Tom wound up in this place, with his sharply tailored suits and polished shoes, eloquent and educated, his words almost poetic as he directed mid-budget porn in hotel rooms and his studio day-in, day-out.

Then again, he never seemed particularly bothered by it. He gave each shoot his full attention, his full boundless enthusiasm and all the professionalism he could muster. You wondered how he balanced it, sometimes, the creative drive to press on with trying to be creative and shoehorn romance into films knowing that, ultimately, it was porn.

He had interviewed you like a real director might, talking about your life and experience and ambitions, almost apologetic when he had finally choked out ‘could you undress’, barely glancing at your naked form before he hired you as his first employee.

You asked him early on, while watching him try and assemble a fake restaurant-date set in the studio, complete with faux windows and an extra playing a waiter, why he bothered when three-minutes of good quality fucking footage would make him the same amount of money. He’d given you a strange smile, the wrinkles beginning to appear at the corners of his eyes, and shrugged.

“I make what I’d like to see.”

The words haunted you later, as your rather attractive co-star bent you over the white-cloth covered dining table and you allowed mewls and groans to escape your mouth without a second thought. Trying to avoid the muted blue of Tom’s eyes behind the cameraman.

Despite your reservations when you first started to work for him, Tom had won you over. His gentler, more romantic approach to pornography had a loyal following. Both of your pseudonyms garnered huge numbers of views across various platforms, and Tom was keen to cultivate a collection of female-friendly porn. Against all the odds, it was working.

And you loved working with him. He was a great director, and inspired writer, and a genuinely brilliant boss. He made sure you saw royalties, good pay, that everyone you worked with was screened and tested, always keeping you safe. Always.

Each time he called a wrap, passing you a robe and offering a meek congratulations on your performance, you found yourself more and more pleased you had wound up working with him.

“You really do have a talent,” he’d told you one day, distracting you as you discussed a new script in his office.

You were sat opposite him, Tom’s glasses perched on his head as he watched you read, your feet resting against the leg of his desk. You’d come in to your shared workspace to try some costumes out, to discuss new scenes, still recovering from a thoroughly exhausting shoot the day before. There were still light bruises around your wrists, and you caught Tom glancing at them worriedly each time your long-sleeved shirt slipped.

“I love that you’re such an actor,” he continued, hands tapping the desk as he spoke, “like, a real actor.”

Your eyes drifted across the script, scanning it with your bottom lip between your teeth. He always appreciated your input, wanting the ‘female fantasy’ in a lot of his work, and he’d timidly shown you some ‘student-professor’ script he’d been working on. He was like that, embarrassed in a way which you wouldn’t expect from a man with his considerable experience in adult entertainment. He was assertive, certain, even stern where it counted. But with just the two of you together, dancing around what was sexy and what wasn’t, he seemed desperate to avoid saying anything you might perceive as too ‘crude’.

“What do you mean?” you’d chuckled, still flicking through the first draft.

He only entrusted you with such early versions of his work – but that made sense. Your careers were symbiotic, tied to one another with an unspoken pact. He directed everything you were in, and you were in everything he directed.

It made sense.

“You don’t just… I don’t know. You never make my scripts seem silly. Or cheesy. You… you really try and make them feel real. I could write anything, and you’ll deliver the lines well. I was overseeing auditions earlier and... I just kept thinking none of them were you. I think you might be the best in the business.”

You rolled your eyes, offering him a disbelieving smirk, and he scoffed.

“I’m serious! I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The weight of his words settled heavy in your chest, and you turned back to the script, frowning as you flicked through the loose-leaf pages. Tom fidgeted behind his desk, unhappy with losing your attention, but you ignored him.

“Here. If you want the fantasy to be believable, I think he needs to lock the office door. Make a show of it, you know. Cover my mouth,” you comment dismissively. Tom already has as pen in his hand, making notes. “It could be hot, maybe ‘Don’t make a sound or you can’t cum’, something like that. As if there’s other students in the corridor outside.”

Nodding, Tom dutifully wrote down your words, mouth slightly open in realisation as he listened.

“Don’t make a sound…” Tom repeated, and you felt yourself blush.

“Not… not that exactly,” you backtracked, “you’re the real writer! I just think, there needs to be some build up. A remind of the power dynamic. Him going straight to oral is a bit… fast. That could happen in any old plot, you know?”

You felt his eyes on you, looking up from the paper to spot Tom leaning back in his chair, a distant smile on his face.

“You really are the best,” he praised, “that’s great. I’ll do rewrites tonight.”

For a moment, you let his words hang heavy in the air. Then you blinked back at him, a slight frown pinching your forehead at his strange mood. He was calm, for once. Tom was usually a ball of enthusiasm, and you wondered if your dismissal of his words earlier had done something to hamper his spirit.

“It’s always easier to critique,” you dismissed, “I love the script, it’s great. I really think it’ll be good. Hot. Maybe I can wear a Britneyschool girl costume, or something?”

He frowned a little, pinching the bridge of his nose at the thought.

“No, weird. We’re going for University student, just… a nice pair of jeans or something.”

“Don’t they wear suits where you went, posh boy?” you teased, loving how it riled him up. “I’ll try and dress like a smart person.”

“You are smart, don’t give me that.”

You rolled your eyes, loving how you managed to fluster him, putting the script back on his cluttered desk as you reached for your bag. This was how your meetings always went, a few hours of notes, some teasing, and a hasty retreat once Tom told you the next shoot day you had to attend. You still had a few hours of social media to do for the last video you’d shot together, notes from Tom, and you lamented the sight of the sun setting outside of your shared office. You’d hoped for at least a bit of natural light today.

“I’m serious, you are!” Tom asserted, and you ignored him purposely as you shut down your laptop, preparing to take it home.

“Yeah, I know, whatever. Don’t work too late!”

“Rich coming from you,” he sighed, “it really doesn’t matter if we send that last edit late.”

“It matters to me! I’d quite like to get paid this week, you know?”

Tom sighed. The two of you tried to produce a couple of videos a week – one for Tom’s site and another to sell to a third party. It didn’t leave either of you with much free time, both of you left in the tiny office at all hours as you worked to keep up with demand.

“Very true. But I’d rather you got some sleep, you know I can help if you’re short on money,” he offered, shuffling papers on his own desk.

He was always quick to jump to an offer to help, and you tried to ignore the fondness spreading through your chest at his eagerness to look out for you. That gentle protectiveness which coursed through Tom was enough to make you melt.

He was one in a million, that was for sure.

“I’m fine, Tom. Thank you though, I’ll ask, if, y’know –”

“Do! Any time. Actually…”

Tom cut himself off, typing something into his phone, and your pocket buzzed with a notification.

“Get yourself a nice dinner.”

You checked your phone to see a transfer from Tom. It wasn’t a crazy amount, but too much for just dinner, and you huffed performatively as he grinned at you.

“No! Don’t be ridiculous –”

He barely made more than you, and you were certainly doing perfectly comfortably.

“Royalties are really good this month. That old break-up sex video is trending again, apparently.”

You smothered a smile. It was hate-fucking, as you’d told Tom a hundred times. That was the title. You could still remember the look on his face the day you’d filmed it, his twitchiness, the unknown male actor who had slightly scared both of you with his sheer size as he stepped into the studio. The male star had fucked you like you’d broken his heart, hands on your neck and hips bruising yours as he pounded into you, and you’d be a little alarmed at how little you had needed to act in his domineering presence. He’d been muscular and tall and assertive, almost injuring you with his enthusiasm, and the shoot had ended with you a sweaty mess, struggling to walk, eyes watery.

You had ached from the moment Tom helped you up from the bed, a protective body between you and your costar as you watched the man collect his clothes and his paycheck. The footage had been great, you’d watched Tom edit it, but it had been your first taste of Tom’s protectiveness. The actor had never returned, and Tom had bought a hot water bottle for the office, pressing it into your lap as he brought tea for the pair of you, loathing how you winced as you moved.

He’d taken you out for dinner that night to celebrate a good edit, but you knew the real reason. That neither of you wanted the other to be alone. It had been a lovely evening, a restaurant then a bar, without a break in laughing conversation the entire night. It hadn’t been a date, but if it had been a date, it would’ve been the nicest date you’d ever been on. In those moments, you wondered if Tom was really cut out for the industry. If you were.

As much as Tom hated the film, it was hot. It had propelled your studio into the spotlight, and it paid a significant chunk of your rent.

“Thank you,” you smiled to him, wracking your mind for anything else that needed discussing before you headed home.

Maybe you’d get takeaway. That would be nice.

Tom cleared his throat.

“What are we shooting tomorrow, by the way?”

You looked up at his words, frowning a little at the realisation you hadn’t been given a script yet. It was unlike him, to be so unprepared. Usually everything was organised weeks in advance. With a glance at the shadows under his eyes, you decided not to tease him about it.

“We’re shooting tomorrow?”

“This week… we’ve only got one video. I was just thinking something simple, I haven’t called a costar yet, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to –”

It was your paycheck on the line as much as Tom’s, and you wondered how the hell you’d forgotten.

“Do we have a camera crew?” you frowned.

“No, not yet. I can call though. Or I could just do it myself, if we’re not doing anything too complicated?”

You thought for a moment, leaning against the open doorframe as Tom started to pack up his own desk, nimble fingers tapping across his keyboard.

“Solo?” you suggested, stifling a laugh as Tom blinked and tilted his head to face you.

“I missed that, love?”

“Solo. Like ‘hot female solo’ or something?”

He smiled slightly, closing his laptop lid.

“That’ll do well, I’m sure. Do we need anything costume-wise? Props?”

Toys. He meant toys. You smiled at his refusal to call a spade a damn spade.

“I’m sure we can find everything here. It’ll be nice to do a simple shoot for a change,” you enthused, holding the door for Tom as he moved to turn off the lights, lingering nearby as he locked up the office.

“Yeah. Single-shot, no camera-man either.”

“Cheap,” you sighed, as though it was the sexiest thing in the world.

You did the books, and avoiding having any more costs this month sounded great.

“Yeah,” Tom smiled, falling into step beside you as the two of you left the warehouse studio.

He looked ready to say something else, but changed his mind. For a second the two you stood by the exit, words trapped beneath your closed lips as the early evening air enveloped you.

“Do you need a lift home?” Tom finally offered.

“No. No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah. Usual time. Twelve?”

“Perfect.”

He reached an arm out, ready for you to walk into his embrace, and you froze. The moment was over as soon as it started, his arm retracted, and you could only stare. His hand found the curls at the back of his head, scratching there, a blush dusting his cheeks in the harsh fluorescent lights of the car park. You could kick yourself as you watched the bob of his Adam’s apple, the clench of his jaw. He felt awkward. You contemplated hugging him, but the moment had passed. Instead you rocked on your heels for a second, before turning to leave.

“Bye, Tom!”

“‘Night! Look after yourself, don’t forget dinner. I’ll see you – ”

He cut himself off as you walked too far away, and you could have kicked yourself for the sadness in his final syllable. You sighed as your feet fell against the pavement, your whole walk home haunted by the awkward shuffle of Tom’s hands as he went to hug you goodbye.

You were surprised by how difficult it was to brush off that awkward memory. As you ordered and ate dinner, you were reminded of Tom with every bite, that he’d snuck aside part of the company’s petty cash budget to give you dinner. That both of you had gone home, separately, to separate empty houses and empty beds.

Had he wanted to go for drinks? Wanted company? You had come to accept a long time ago that the man was your closest friend. He would be the person you called in an emergency, a shoulder to cry on. You liked to think he’d lean on you the same way.

Despite that, you spent limited time together outside of a professional context. You never met up on weekends, or casually called. Of course you didn’t. He made a career out of seeing you naked, watching you fake orgasms for other men. As you readied yourself for the day, you reminded yourself that of course, he would be nice to his only full-time, very lucrative actress. To his business partner.

As you’d queued up the company’s social media posts the night before, you could only think of Tom behind the camera, orchestrating each photo and clip you uploaded.

You couldn’t help the grin which split your face as you walked into the studio, bag flung over your shoulder, overpacked with everything you thought you could possibly need. Tom greeted you, emerging from his office with a smile.

Before you could overthink it, you walked into his arms, giving him very little choice in the matter as you greeted him with a hug. In his surprise you felt his body stiffen, his arms slowly wrapping around you, and you were momentarily gobsmacked by the muscular form he seemed to hide behind those suits.

He was a little more dressed down today, smart black jeans and a button-up white shirt, unruly hair sticking up like it did when he forgot to brush it. He looked better than yesterday, like he’d had a good night’s sleep.

“Good morning,” he chuckled, bemusement clear in his voice.

You pulled back from the hug, a little embarrassed at the affection until you saw the smile stretching across his face, reaching his eyes. Suddenly the previous night, worrying you had inadvertently rejected him, seemed to be erased.

“Morning! What have you got for me?”

The studio space was cleaned, but empty. The camera stood in the corner as Tom lead you further into the room, his office door open to the side of it, and you frowned at the emptiness of the space.

There were tape marks on the floor where sets were usually assembled, conspicuous without the usual hive of activity buzzing around some piece of furniture you would be thrown onto or fucked against. There was nothing.

“I didn’t know what you wanted to do,” Tom was saying, his gentle voice booming in the empty space, “we don’t have a script or anything so… I’ll leave it to you.”

You bit your lip.

It was more freedom than you were used to, less direction, less to build the fantasy where you could forget you were ultimately in a warehouse with just your business partner. It was… nothing. Tom said your name quietly, and you nodded, stepping back to assess the space.

“I’m just thinking,” you reassured him.

Had the studio always been this quiet? You tried to remember a shoot day where it had been this silent, this calm, without the stress of lighting people or cameramen or scripts being thrown around. You could hear every step Tom took as he walked towards the camera, the wheel-mounted tripod creaking as he moved it across the floor, checking batteries and SD cards while you stood in place, your bag still hanging from one shoulder.

Noticing your frozen stance Tom frowned across at you, nothing but gentle concern in his blue eyes and the fine lines around them.

“I was thinking something kind of minimal, maybe cosy?” he offered, “Maybe an armchair? Something like that?”

You thought about it for a moment, crossing to the corner of the room to finally set down your bag.

He was finally getting into ‘director mode’, growing more energetic by the second.

“I’m thinking we just frame it on you, no distraction. Single take, if we can.”

You nodded silently as he crossed to the storage cupboard he’s overeagerly labelled a ‘props department’. It was stacked high with fabric and furniture and lingerie, tubs of various exotic sex toys near the door. Tom stepped straight past them.

There was a mattress in the props room, materials to build a bed, and you pondered on the idea for a moment.

“We could keep it really simple, maybe?” you suggested, “Find a warm background. Or just use white. Try and get one twenty minute shot, or something.”

You reached for lube without thought, collecting the near-empty bottle of body oil beside it too, as you perused the options in front of you.

“Remind me to buy more of that,” Tom mused, sparing a glance to the bottles in your arms before standing beside you to peruse the options.

You nodded silently, your free hand rifling through bagged silicone toys, slightly in a daze as you picked out a few options. There was a slight blush dusted across Tom’s high cheekbones as he turned to see your arms full of dildos. You smiled as it took him a second to find words, and wondered how the hell he’d chosen to start a porn studio in the first place.

“Colour co-ordinated,” he commented, and you smiled, picking out yet another pink toy from the pile.

“Naturally,” you smiled, “I think that’s everything? Could we drag a mattress and pillows out?”

He nodded silently, already moving to manoeuvre the double mattress leaning against a wall in the props room. You rolled your eyes before helping, knowing he was being a gentleman, or whatever he called it. You called it putting his back out.

He rejected your help, so you grabbed as many pillows as you could, following him back into the main studio, privately smiling at the dramatic grunts he made trying to move the mattress. He tossed it to the ground with a grunt, shoving it into the corner of the room, before pausing again.

You dropped everything down on to it, toys, lube, pillows and all.

And then both of you waited.

It was so strangely intimate, just the two of you in the room, the strange nature of your relationship weighing heavy after last night’s miscommunication. Suddenly there was nothing you wanted to do less than take your clothes off.

“White sheets?”

“Hm?” you hadn’t processed what Tom said, too wrapped up in your own world, frowning down at the bare mattress.

“I was thinking white sheets.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

He was off, assigned another task, and you almost envied his distraction as you slowly sorted the pillows how you wanted, gathered the toys absentmindedly. Before Tom came back from the props closet you made yourself scarce, catching sight of his slim outline through the doorway. Facing away from you as he rummaged.

In the single bathroom of the studio you cleaned anything that would be going inside of you, avoiding your reflection, trying to shake off the odd nervousness coursing through your veins.

Why? It had been years since you felt this way before a shoot. Before you’d met Tom, even. Sure, shoots could be exciting, exhilarating, intimidating, but this self-consciousness, this self-doubt… it had come from nowhere.

You pressed your forehead to the mirror, closing your eyes, breathing deeply. The tap running sounded like a waterfall, the silicone under your fingers felt alien, the air almost claustrophobic as you wondered what the hell was wrong with you.

Tom was done making the bed when you got back, frowning at his phone until he heard you re-enter the studio space, quick to look up and see if you were happy with his set. You felt hyper-aware of him, of every movement he made, a clean towel and toys cradled in one arm as you took in the space. It was a simple premise, just a clean fitted sheet pillows in a corner, a clear space for you in the middle. You knew it would look good on screen. You knew this was an easy job.

You felt sick to your stomach.

“Do you want to face the camera? Or kind of, not acknowledge it?” Tom asked, speaking again as you forgot to reply, too caught up in your own mind. “Maybe if you ignore it that’s more… voyeuristic?”

“Sounds good,” you responded, kneeling to prepare your space. This was autopilot, your day job. You could do this.

“Right.”

He sounded a little put out by your response, but moved the camera anyway, switching to a knee-height tripod. You stood, stepped back to give him space, and frowning at the sudden headrush. You blinked, catching yourself staring at the flex of his arms as he moved the heavy equipment. You didn’t realise how long you had been staring into space until Tom called your name a second time, crossing into your personal space.

“Are you okay?”

Tom’s voice was so soft you wanted to cry, fingers hovering beside your bicep, his gentle eyes demanding for you to meet them, daring for you to lie while his face is so close to yours.

Somehow, the guilt of his worry made you feel worse.

“No, I’m…I’m being stupid. Sorry, just tired.”

“Did you not sleep well?”

“No, I, uh, I slept fine. I’m not sure. Just not really feeling it.”

His face fell, but you knew he wasn’t disappointed in you. He thought he’d done something wrong. Immediately you were talking, doing anything you could to soften his guilt.

“It’s my job, though. I can do it. This is great Tom, I think it’ll be a good shoot.”

“Sweetheart –”

You sighed, eyes falling to the mattress, before forcing a smile.

“Let’s get this over with!”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, but you forced yourself to move, pulled your feet from the floor with far more effort than it ought to take. There was some comfort in rummaging through your own bag, that piece of home, something private from the studio. You found the vibrator you’d brought, a pink bullet you used almost exclusively at home, fully charged that morning. Behind you, Tom snorted in amusement.

“Nothing here is ever charged,” you shrugged off his stare, knowing damn well you didn’t have to explain yourself.

You wanted to explain anyway though. Just in case, Tom thought anything he did wasn’t enough. He seemed perfectly fine with the criticism, though you knew he was making a mental note. He always did, then you had something to say.

Trying not to make a big deal out of it, you stripped to your underwear, folding your clothes neatly and being careful not to show any self-consciousness in your posture. You’d never been ashamed or embarrassed before now, and you weren’t about to start. Even if it was just you, and a very well, fully dressed Tom. Vibrator clutched in your fingers, you finally sat on the damn mattress.

He was the other side of the camera now, somehow both distant and a few feet away. You found yourself staring at your body in the monitor, just watching. Tom’s voice broke you out of yet another daze, and you wanted to pinch yourself. Why couldn’t you do it today?

“We don’t have to do this today, if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay I just… I forget it’s just us sometimes, you know? There’s such a production and so many people and at the end of the day…”

Tom smiled, a relief on his face that told you he had been feeling it too. That this was weird.

“I know what you mean. If you’re uncomfortable…”

“Just give me a second to warm up, we need to make something, after all.”

You stretched, not really sure why, moving a little around the nook Tom had created, shuffling pillows and practicing where you wanted to lie back, watching a monitor as Tom played with a soft lighting, twisting and turning to find the most flattering angles you could.

As he shuffled things around, Tom nodded to the spread of toys you’d set out. You’d added your vibrator to the pink line up, perfectly organised on the white towel.

“Do you want those in shot?”

You shrugged.

“Might be hot?”

He nodded silently. You moved the toys in to the frame, trying to blink away the cloud which had settled in your mind. The world felt foggy, your arms like they were moving through treacle, and you knew Tom had noticed.

As he prepared two directional microphones, you tried not to feel claustrophobic. The audio from the microphone he was pointing towards your pussy would be almost grotesque, and you fought not to shuffle further from it as you imagined Tom listening later, headphones in, as he balanced the levels between your moans and the wet sounds of you fucking yourself.

Fuck.

Why was this so different to a regular shoot?

You’d done solo shoots before. With Tom. And half-a-dozen other crew, you reminded yourself.

You caught sight of his curls above the monitor, face serious as he set everything up.

“Speak?”

“Testing, testing,” you spouted off nonsense until he offered you a thumbs up, happy with the audio.

Then there was nothing else to do.

He stood, looming over the equipment. And you looming over you.

“What’s the plan?” he asked, smiling at your frown. “You’re in charge here, I’m just the camera guy.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was trying to put you at ease.

“You’re the director,” you reminded him, knowing how he preened himself under the title.

You were impressed that his eyes had only roamed down your body once as he took in the shoot, glancing at the indulgent layout of toys, double checking the monitor, one headphone in. He had that stance he always adopted when he was directing, and you knew it was his favourite moment in any of this. The moment everything was pinned on him.

It happened so quickly you almost missed the moment he knelt down, blinking in surprise as his face remerged at your level beside the camera.

“Then my direction is: enjoy yourself. Forget I’m here. Let’s show them something real.”

He must have seen your shock, because it made him smile.

“Real?” you questioned, and he nodded firmly.

“I’m serious.”

For a beat, both of you were silent, his eyes meeting yours over the body of the camera.

“If you can,” he offered, “I understand it’s not always…”

You interrupted him with a hand, smiling your understanding of what he was saying, and dismissing it in one motion. The silence dragged on, and you decided to push this forwards. If you were done by lunch, Tom would probably insist on taking you somewhere nice.

“I don’t know if I should use – ” you ghosted a finger across the biggest toy, worrying a bottom lip between your teeth, “Simplicity might be key.”

“Do what you want, darling. What feels good.”

You nodded mutely, and for just a second you saw doubt flicker across his face. This was new territory, and even you weren’t sure if this was a step too far.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah. If I’m… actually… it might take a while. Let me know if I’m taking too long.”

“Take as long as you need, darling. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

Tilting your head at him a little, you realised abruptly just how intimate this was. Moreover, that you wanted it anyway. That you were about to make him watch you cum. Make him hear you, smell you. He couldn’t touch, but he could watch.

And that was enough for you to perform.

Tom gave you a countdown, red lights peppered your field of view, and he was recording. He had taken a seat on the floor behind the camera set up, one headphone in to monitor audio, waiting.

You stayed sat up, back arched a little as your hands began to caress you own body, keeping on eye on the monitor while your face was out of the shot. You rubbed along your thighs, across your stomach, teasing at the lace of your bra and the elastic of your underwear each time you passed them, trailing your fingertips. It didn’t really feel like anything, doing this to yourself, but you knew to tease the camera. Tom would cut out anything too slow.

Your gaze remained firmly on the screen as you began to make your touches firmer, more deliberate, dragging lines into your skin and flirting with the camera. You admired the soft skin of your breasts as you started to shift your bra, enjoying the stiffening of your nipples in the monitor until –

The screen went black, and you immediately glanced at Tom, frowning as you lost the visual of yourself. He met your questioning gaze sternly, eyebrows furrowed, and you remembered his direction.

“Enjoy yourself.”

With nothing left to look at you closed your eyes, feeling the blood rushing to the surface of your skin, the sensitivity of your breasts as your fingers idly danced across them. You shoved your bra down unthinkingly, wanting to feel more, rubbing at the heaviness of your breasts and wincing as you enjoyed the pleasure and pain of pinching at your nipples, teasing them to attention. You glanced your nails across them, feeling it in your core. You didn’t want to wait anymore. Fuck the cameras.

It was hard to let to, to stop the delicious feeling of your fingers on your own breasts, but you forced yourself to free one hand, shoving off the bra, desperate to feel yourself without it. You knew you were grimacing, it wouldn’t be sexy, but you didn’t care. That was Tom’s problem.

You needed to touch yourself.

One hand reached below the waistband of your underwear, seeking out your clit, guided by a familiar ache. It was all you could focus on, your other hand forgotten, cupping your breast, the sensation vague and lost as your fingers found your clit. The sensation overwhelmed you as you shifted the hood, your body beginning to produce wetness. The room was a little cold, the air relieving against the heat of your bare skin, making your nipples peak as you leant back into the nest of pillows behind you.

You felt your stomach tense, a bolt of electricity tensing the muscles up and down your body as you brushed across your clit a little too hard. Your middle finger probed your pussy experimentally, slipping inside of you, quickly joined by a second as you played with the wetness there.

One, two, three pumps of your fingers inside you was enough for you to gasp, your eyes still closed against the bright lights as focused on nothing but feeling. No more fucking around.

You reached for your vibrator, hand knocking against the thick silicone toy lined up beside it, writhing as you pressed it against the fabric covering your clit. You cycled through the settings as fast as you could, still desperate for more stimulation.

More. It was on the highest setting. You wanted more.

Without moving the vibrator you shoved your underwear off, huffing as you kicked them away, not caring where they landed. The tip of the toy nudged against your clit exquisitely, and you froze.

There.

You thought about Tom watching you. The hot blood coursing through your body, the line up of toys just waiting to be shoved inside of you. The sensitivity of you clit as you held it against that perfect point. The air against your dripping, aching pussy. The muscles starting to clench, the rhythm of your body. Building, building, you didn’t fight the feeling.

This was what you wanted.

That warm familiarity of the vibrator on your clit, the runaway train of your thoughts, it was enough to drive you over the edge. You hadn’t realised the keening, groaning noises you were making until you heard them, pleasure leaving your lips as an afterthought.

You felt empty.

Blindly you reached out, sticky fingers finding the shaft of a toy you wanted, a smaller one you could take right now. A dollop of lube in the palm of your hand was all it would take, a few pumps of the toy enough to coat it, the excess lubricant smeared on the sheets. You didn’t care. Not your problem.

Without conscious thought, you were still rubbing yourself, two fingers absently making circles against your clit as you fidgeted to be able to take the dildo. You didn’t bother preparing yourself anymore. You were wet enough, and you wanted the stretch.

Needed it.

Needed to feel full.

You shoved the toy into yourself, gritted teeth and your spare hand grasping at your breast, giving the nipple a sharp pinch to interrupt the overwhelming feeling of that silicone pushing inside of you. Your walls were stretched open, a gasp reaching your ears as you felt a nudge against your cervix.

It wasn’t enough. You felt wild, desperate, as you sloppily pulled the toy from yourself and shoved it back in, clenching down and still needing more.

Your fingers found a larger toy, arousal and lubricant smearing across your body as you discarded the dildo which you had just been fucking yourself with, leaving it somewhere on the mattress, forgotten in favour of the bigger option. It was thick. Maybe, in your right mind, you wouldn’t have considered it. But instead you coated it in lube, squirting the clear liquid on to the tip and rubbing it down the toy, focusing on nothing but the need pulsing through your pelvis.

On the emptiness inside you, begging, pleading to be filled. It hurt, how much you wanted to be stretched out, to feel something pounding into you. You felt animalistic, desperate for anything. The last of your conscious thought was occupied by the need in your clit, the demand for friction, and you just didn’t have enough hands. It was impossible to think. When you finally sank down on the fake cock, leaning back, legs apart, gaze focused on nothing but your own swollen pussy, it was a relief. You gasped, then sighed, pushing another inch of the toy inside you. You felt stretched already, split in half, but you kept going. With each thrust, you took the silicone further inside of you until you felt the dull ache of the toy going too far.

Finally, that emptiness felt sated, and you stayed still, too stuffed to risk moving and too blissed out to care.

But you needed more.

Each bear down made the toy threaten to shift, and you didn’t have the brain power to thrust and pay attention to your aching clit. You moved gingerly, grabbing a pillow to straddle, holding the toy inside you as you hunted for your vibrator.

You couldn’t even lean too far to reach it, you were so full it ached. And it was delicious.

With the smooth plastic finally in your hand you leant back, ready to bring yourself to another orgasm. With a blink, you realised there was a tear tracking its way down your cheek, and you smiled to yourself.

And then you accidentally looked forwards. Your eyes met Tom’s. The camera. The lights. The switched off monitor.

You wanted to cry.

He was watching you directly, with those sharp blue eyes, one finger resting along his jawline, his usual calculating, wide stance replaced with one knee hugged to his chest as he sat on the concrete floor. He was watching you.

You. Stuffed full, straddling a pillow on the bed Tom had fucking made, covered in a mix of lube and your own arousal. That strange feeling from earlier came back full force.

God. He had seen you actually come. Without acting or cheesy lines or clever angles to hide the worst of your O-face. You could pretend to come, tell your male co-stars what a good time you’d had, follow direction, anything. But this was too real. And it was just you and Tom. In the corner of a huge studio, bright lights and cameras and –

Had he called cut? You wouldn’t have heard. Did he realise you’d lost control? That you had forgotten you were supposed to be acting and been so desperate and –

“You’re doing amazing.”

You smiled at him weakly, gasping as the toy inside you nudged your cervix as you fidgeted. You didn’t realise that you were awaiting direction until he spoke.

“Another one?”

His voice was a little throatier than usual, though you supposed he’d been quiet for a while. His eyes kept drifting from your face, and you wondered if he felt as uncomfortable as you did.

You nodded silently, closing your eyes, listening to the increasing pitch of the vibrator as you turned it up to its maximum setting.

The minutes stretched on as your orgasm built, little raises and falls of your hips accompanying that insistent buzz of your favourite vibrator, the toy inside you starting to ache as it stretched you apart. It was impossible to forget that Tom was watching you now. That his piercing gaze was on you. As a matter of professionalism, you tried to avoid looking up. You ignored the camera, fucked your body in the way you knew it would respond to, only half-faking it as you came a second time.

You moaned and groaned and gave the camera an indulgent few seconds of overstimulation, the vibrator pushed against your clit to make you writhe and shake. You pulled yourself off the dildo in a mess of arousal, played with yourself, showing off how stretched out you were.

Fingers swirling in the arousal inside of you, you sighed in relief when Tom called, “cut.”

Dropping the toy, you pulled your legs together, ignoring him for a second as you took deep breaths. Taking stock of your body, the residual pleasure and pain and stickiness. A lot of stickiness.

Tom took pity on you, shifting a softbox so you had a clear path out of the corner you were hemmed into.

“Go and have a shower,” he told you, the most softly-spoken command you’d ever heard.

Nonetheless, you followed orders. On weak legs, you indulged in as long as shower as you dared, cleaning up and then just… waiting. Trying to avoid the real world. When you finally opened the door, wrapped in a robe, you found your clothes folded outside. Tom was nowhere to be seen, but you thanked the universe for him anyway.

When you re-emerged you were fully dressed and feeling a lot more like yourself again. And, actually, quite proud of yourself. Tom’s busyness told you everything had been recorded properly, equipment moved and the mattress bare, leant against the wall.

“All good?” you asked, more to announce your presence than anything. He stopped moving, offering you a gentle smile.

“Perfect! I think it’ll be great. Do you want to go get lunch somewhere? To celebrate?”

Predictable as anything. The thought made your heart swell with fondness for him, his head tilt and excitement, his strange place here.

“I think I’ll just go home,” you tried to smile apologetically, but you could still feel the ache inside you, the dull oversensitivity of your clit against your underwear.

The embarrassment and excitement fighting in the fit of your stomach.

Tom nodded, clear understanding on his face. He held the door for you on the way out.

“Are you coming in tomorrow?” he asked, quietly, like you might run off if he asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

Your bedroom fell silent as the vibrator stopped, the battery finally flat. You whined in disappointment, desperate for another orgasm. Your fingers replaced it instantly, rubbing, desperately pulling more wetness from the arousal weeping from you, but you were too oversensitive.

Panting, vision blurry, your thighs aching, you blinked away tears. You glanced at the nightstand. Tom hadn’t text you.

When you woke up the next morning your phone was dead. You’d forgotten to charge it last night, and leaving it in your room to charge offered a strangely peaceful morning. You had a few hours before you would be expected at the studio, and no work to do before then.

You indulged in spending time getting ready for the day, making a decent breakfast, doing a few chores you’d been putting off.

Processing what had happened yesterday.

In the clear light of day, you wondered if you ought to be embarrassed for the way you’d completely lost yourself at the shoot. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about it, the more you rationalised at you’d just followed Tom’s direction. Done what he’d asked. It had been intense, for sure, but you’d done what he’d asked. If anything you regretted the moment he’d had to speak, losing your nerve. You hoped he didn’t want pick-up shots today, you weren’t sure your body could take any more.

You thought about the night before, clearing up the scattered clothes and charging the vibrator you’d left strewn beside your bed, more ashamed of the images which had been conjured by your overactive imagination in the late-night privacy of your bedroom. You hated that everything you imagined was involved blue eyes. Distinctive curls. Pulling buttons from smart shirts and kissing along sharp cheekbones. Poor Tom. He didn’t need you overstepping that mark. And yet when you had closed your eyes, imagined you were under those lights again, all you could imagine was Tom. His creative gaze. Listening to the smoothness his voice leant to everything he said as he instructed you even more intimately than usual.

As you switched your phone back on, you forced the thoughts from your mind. They couldn’t follow you to the studio. The two of you had built something good. Something successful. The studio was doing well, you were both saving money away for the future, building your brands. You couldn’t screw that up now by imagining him like that. He trusted you. You trusted each other. Relied on one another.

You wondered if he ever fucked other actresses.

#lord forigve me for i have have rpf x reader #13atoms #fic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #this is a weird one #i think 2 more chapters maybe #lmk what you think!

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timextoxhajima · 3 years ago

Text

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 6 - Misogynist

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @sunwoowuvbot

“Don’t offend me.”

“No, I think the best course of action for HERA & ARTEMIS is that we not only branch out to collaborate with other companies, but also to make um… say, connections with non-profit organisations. Orphanages, charities, you name it. The publicity HERA & ARTEMIS will get after being recognised as a community-caring brand, a brand that cares no less than it’s maximum ability to about children, the elderly and the disabled.”

“Charitable. I like it,” The Resources CEO of The Board nods with a wine of champagne in his glass. even at her own wedding, all the bride can think of is work. All she cares about is how to make sure HERA & ARTEMIS is heard in the crowd of attendees to her wedding. “Anyway, a gorgeous wedding, I must say. What made you have it at home? I’d expect that your father and brother would have wanted it somewhere more… ravish, y’know, more extravagant.”

It takes some effort to hide her disgust at the thought that her father had a say over where she wanted to have her wedding.

“Of course not,” The service smile almost feels surgically implanted into her face, even Jang Won herself is put off. “Juyeon and I have already planned this right off the bat, have it at Hera’s Manor.”

“Why not at the Lee House? I thought the Lee’s would’ve preferred it there, you know, husband and all.”

Jang Won could’ve slapped the glass of champagne out of his grasp if she wanted to, then probably break the bowl off the stem and send it into his eye.

Misogynist.

“We—”

“The Lee House doesn’t have the facility and resources to hold a wedding now,” Juyeon comes round with a cup of whiskey, cheeks slightly pink from the alcohol as he rounds his arm around Jang Won, pulling her into his torso and even bothering to press a kiss into her temple. “It isn’t as presentable as you’d expect it to be. Hera’s Manor is well-kept and it looks like it’s prepped for a party every other day.”

Juyeon smiles politely, eyes drifting from the Resources CEO to Jang Won, and for a split second, Jang Won might just feel somewhat impressed he stood up for her. “You know what they say, if you need something done, a lady will do it fast and efficient.”

The Resources CEO provides the newly wedded couple an awkward smile, not really able to spit out a proper response to Juyeon’s rebuttal.

“Anyway, love, your brother’s asking for you in your office. Some administrative issues that cropped up,” Juyeon pulls away and turns his body, feet already pointing away from the Resources CEO. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr Teuk.”

Juyeon lowers his head as a sign of respect, though he probably doesn’t mean it. He gently tugs on Jang Won and leads her out of the courtyard.

“Please tell me there aren’t any actual administrative manners Younghoon wants to talk to me about,” Jang Won seethes as she walks up the yard stairs and into the main hall.

“‘Course not,” Juyeon subtly shakes his head. “He’s having the time of his life actually, getting acquainted with the other members of The Board. Have you always been the one helping him with Artemis?”

“In his defence, I don’t let him handle anything. It’s a subsidiary of HERA & ARTEMIS so I might as well take things into my own hands and worry about it on my own.”

“Well, maybe you should let him figure his hand out at things. He doesn’t legally own Artemis for nothing.”

Jang Won turns to shoot a look of distaste at Juyeon.

“What?” He frowns, forehead creasing. “I’m literally telling you to split your workload.”

“I don’t need to split my workload. I’m doing fine on my own and frankly, I’d rather he sit back and let me do most of it so that at least I know what the Hell’s going on with my companies without worrying about any secrets.”

Juyeon rubs the back of his neck and shoves his hands into his pockets. “In other words, you don’t trust your brother.”

“Please,” She walks off first, heading for her office where she usually seeks refuge amongst her bottles of whiskey and bourbon and documents. “Just because I love him for being my brother doesn’t mean I should trust him with my finances.”

“You’re literally born into a family of fortune. Even if he does mess up, you’d be able to recover from it. The consequences would mean absolutely nothing to you.”

Jang Won pushes the heavy doors of her office open, admiring the late-morning sun that’s spilling all over her chair and her desk.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, pretty boy. I choose not to rely on whatever I have at birth because I always felt like whatever my dad had was just handed to him,” She reaches for the ice bucket and picks up a ball of ice, dropping it into the whiskey glass, then coats most of its surface with bourbon. “But God forsake my hard work, huh? I guess if hard work really did pay off then I wouldn’t be standing here, in a wedding-lunch dress, talking to my husband.”

Juyeon raises both brows and throws himself into one of the sofa seats, the clinking of the whiskey decanter echoing ever so slightly throughout the office. “Ever heard of a holiday? You should go on one.”

She scoffs with exaggeration, the gentle swishing of the alcohol meeting the ice and the glass gleaming like liquid honey under the sunlight. “Yes, because I’m just like you, the one who would run away from the responsibilities he was born into whenever he doesn’t want them.”

“I’m sorry,” Juyeon grimaces, standing up and allowing the silvers of his suit glimmer as he walks into where the sunlight kisses the floor. “Which toe did I step on? I just pulled you out of a situation you would’ve otherwise not wanted to be in.”

“Unfortunately for you, I didn’t need pulling out. I could’ve handled myself right there and then. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember - I don’t need myself a nanny to save me,” Cocking one of her brows, she gives a wry laugh before downing the shot of whiskey.

Juyeon is in disbelief in her ability to perceive gratitude - or rather, a lack thereof.

“Maybe your father came back to save HERA & ARTEMIS from your terrible people’s skills, ever thought of that?”

“Wrong again, pretty boy!” She peels the glass off her lips and stares at the lipstick mark. “I’m perfect with the people I wanna be perfect with to get what I want, and when they are of no use to me, I’m well aware I treat them less than average.”

“There it is,” He sneers, stopping right before her as she finishes the last bit of her whiskey. “So, you’re a hypocrite.”

A smirk draws across her lips. Jang Won almost slams the glass back down in the tray of other glasses and the whiskey decanter. “And I’m proud of it. There’s nothing you can do about it, Lee Juyeon. You agreed to play this game my way and now that we’re wearing matching rings. I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with it.”

Jang Won squares up and jabs a finger into his shoulder. But Juyeon catches her wrist and holds it in place, causing her to grunt and attempt to writhe her way out, but to no avail.

“Kim Jang Won, you listen to me and you listen well. Just because I agreed to play this game by your rules, doesn’t mean I’m your puppet. We both know who will be the more powerful one in May, so my advice?” By now, Juyeon’s nose is almost in her eye. He’s not even bothering to look at her.

“Don’t offend me.”

Jang Won finally snatches her wrist out of his hold when she feels his grip loosen. Huffing, she stomps past him, shoulder bumping into his arm for good measure as she leaves the office.

Younghoon just about catches his sister rolling her eyes so hard, she was this close to hurling a string of vulgarities at the wooden of her office door. “Hey, what were you doing in your office? People are looking for you!”

Without a word, her eyes are locked with his in frustration.

“What?” He frowns.

She thinks for a moment.

She can ruin him and destroy him by asking him to take Artemis for himself before the deal is due in June. Ask him why he was so useless and had his little sister do everything for him, never once really fighting to take ownership of a company legally his.

“Nothing,” The brush-off is sharp and distinct as she waves him off, turning to walk into the main hall. “Go get yourself more sponsors before June, will you? I’m not sure the same people would want to keep in touch with HERA & ARTEMIS after the separation and collaboration is made official.”

Juyeon returns home later that evening, still wearing the fourth outfit of the day. It was a blue suit with a black collar and details and all he wants to do is soak himself in his bath. Maybe he could go to sleep safe and sound, and he’d wake up single and free to do whatever he actually wants to do.

He walks down the entrance corridor, sick of all the staged portraits of him and his family hung on the walls. The main hall comes into sight, past the stairs on his right, where the television was still broadcasting bits and pieces of his wedding earlier. In the million-dollar couch sat his father, eyes and ears attentive to the screen.

“Was it so entertaining that you have to watch it again? I know you were there this afternoon.”

His father turns his head subtly. Juyeon pulls off his blazer and removes his watch, laying the heavy clothing over his forearm as he scans the broadcast.

“The Lee-Kim wedding saw nothing short of nothing but a perfect list of investors, sponsors, fellow colleagues and leaders of several enterprises...”

He turns to look at his father, obviously still somewhat hurt that he hadn’t been officially invited by his son - Mr Ro had sent out mandatory invites to family members.

“It was a gorgeous wedding.”

“Yeah, well...” Juyeon shrugs lifelessly, already turning around to head for the stairs. “I had no say in it. It was her wedding and I don’t care, so.”

“The Board is expecting you to go on a Honeymoon, you have that in place, right?”

Juyeon gives a dry chuckle, already on the first step of the stairs. “Yeah, we’re going to Guatemala.”

“Guatemala?” His father shifts his attention from the television and looks at Juyeon, halfway up the stairs. “You’re just finding a chance to go diving in Belize, aren’t you?”

His son doesn’t falter, only continuing taking each step towards the second level, in hopes that he wouldn’t have to listen to his father criticise the only thing Jang Won let him do. At least it was some kind of freedom.

“Juyeon-”

“Mom better not be in my room.”

The second floor corridor greets him with even more portraits of his family, most of the pictures of him when he was younger. He halts right outside his door when he notices light seeping out from beneath.

Sighing with exasperation, he lays his hand on the door handle, readying himself to listen to his mother ramble. But his attention drifts from the cream-painted mahogany to the low cabinet next to him, the blue shade of the stingray shining under the hallway lights.

There was a ceramic statue of a standing coral frame with the stingray within the arc, and on it engraved ‘Hawaii 2018′. He smiles, remembering only fond memories of seeing a huge stingray while diving. Sunwoo had been dragged out by him - one of those times when he fought with his parents and couldn’t stand being in the same house as them. He covered travel cost and hospitality fees, ensuring Sunwoo’s parents (whose family was also on the smaller arm of The Board’s administration) that he’d take care of them.

Juyeon got an earful from his parents when he came back. Young Jin Seol had been the one to tell his parents his whereabouts, solely because he had arranged for her to make sure it seemed like he was still doing his job at the office. So, of course, when his parents walked into office and she was doing his work for him, they had threatened to fire her.

But Juyeon knew he was indebted, and told his parents, “No Jin Seol, then you can forget about me taking over Apple-Korea.”

Sucking a deep breath, Juyeon shakes himself out of his mental trance, and pushes the door open.

The back of his mother seems so fragile on first sight, and he’s well aware she’s getting on in her years. For a split second, he feels emotional, possibly feeling some tinge of remorse at how horrible of a son he’s been.

Then he remembers that she’s had an abundance of spa treatments, country-club lunches with her fellow rich moms after a game of gold or tennis, and a bunch of other things she definitely didn’t need. He wish he could tell himself otherwise, that she had been born into this life and thus living anything else dissimilar to this would be tiring on her.

But he can’t.

“I’m surprised you bothered to come home,” She says without looking at him. Juyeon rests his blazer on the back of the single sofa seat that’s angled to face the one she’s sitting in. “I was wondering if I should send some pajamas over to Hera’s Manor.”

Juyeon sits in the crystal encrusted sofa seat, crossing his legs and eyeing his mother fiddle with the wedding band on her finger. It reminds him of his own.

“You realise you’re the one who bound me to the Kim family, don’t you? You’re the one who said okay to marrying Kim Jang Won, not me.”

“It was for your own good.”

“For mine or for our family?” Juyeon leans back in his seat and interlocks his fingers, placing them in his lap. “What else do you really need from the Lee family that you simply cannot take your eyes off? Their money? HERA & ARTEMIS? What?”

Only now does Juyeon notice the cup of tea on the small coffee table infront of them.

“A child,” She says, like it was the most casual thought one could have, before taking a sip of tea. Her son shuts his eyes then opens them with his eyebrows as far up his forehead as he can.

Providing a dry, tortured chuckle, Juyeon blinks multiple times, wishing that it was a condition with his hearing and not just something his mother had just spat out.

“A what?” Juyeon pulls apart his hands and leans forward, fists now clenched and pressed into the cushion he was sitting in.

“You heard me,” She places the tea cup down and refuses to look at him. “A child would mean inheritance. The Lee family will inherit the wealth of the Kims and it could possibly start a new system. It could rewrite The Board. We could become The Board.”

“What the-” He finally stands, barely choking out some kind of laughter filled with confusion and utter disbelief. “You want a child just to bond our families together and take over The fucking Board? My God, why are you so obsessed with The Board?”

“Because The Board is everything! No board, no us, no wealth and comfort like the kind we raised you in-”

“Does it look like I wanted it?!” Juyeon runs his hands through his hair, pulling his hair back and stretching his hairline.

“You ingrate-”

“So I am an ingrate. But I had no choice, I have no life of my own because guess who’s making my decisions for me? You! If I don’t even have the ability to make my own choices then how do I even qualify as an ingrate?!”

She’s silent, and very much staring at the words spewing out of her son’s mouth now. She huffs through her flared nostrils, picking up the saucer and the tea cup and standing. “I don’t know what kind of ideas Kim Jang Won has planted in your head but you are still part of the Lee family and-”

“For Gods’ sake, Jang Won has nothing to do with any of this! In fact, she can’t care less about what I’m doing, so long as it doesn’t change the course of this entire situation. If anything, she’s playing it safe; she’s playing it against her father, and not us,” The veins on Juyeon’s hands are about to rip through his skin when he cannot close his fist any more. “Her father literally climbed out the grave... and you took this chance to capitalise on that in order to make our family richer the moment you heard of The Board’s announcement regarding HERA & ARTEMIS’s ownership complications...”

Juyeon shakes his head subtly, realising that he was panting from the sheer force of anger and disgust rushing through him.

“And she’s younger than me. Lost her mother, lost her father, who only comes back to take what she built? You know, for a woman under The Board, I’d think you’d understand what she’s gone through. I thought... I thought you would’ve known how hard it is to be the successful one in the family but cannot pass down the family name... but everytime I think the world of you, and I think you’d act a little more like the woman I thought you are... you prove me wrong.”

Juyeon glares down at her, hands holding the teacup in the saucer with some kind of disapproving, disappointed look of fury in her eyes. Then he sighs heavily, hands rushing to pick up his blazer and storms out the room before she can.

“Leave Kim Jang Won alone, or else I’ll refuse Apple-Korea. By then, you can forget about all your stupid green bills and diamond rings.”

And with that, he slams the door shut.

Juyeon appears along the second floor hallway, visible from the first floor’s living hall, where his father was still watching the news of his wedding earlier on in the day. Of course, the door slamming would’ve caught his attention, so when his son rushes down the stairs while putting his blazer back on, the elder man removes himself off the couch.

“Juyeon! Where are you going?!”

“Don’t call me, and don’t even think of calling Hera’s Manor,” He opens the heavy front door with such determination, then slams it harder than he intends to. By the foot of the stairs leading down to the pick up point by the entrance, his two bodyguards are taken aback and flustered when Juyeon appears again.

“Uh, can I get Mr Bong around-”

The instruction through the guard’s earpiece is cut short and interrupted abruptly as Juyeon unplugs the earpiece from the transmitter.

“Mr Lee-”

Juyeon doesn’t hesitate to do the same with the other guard. By now, his father has gotten the front door open and yelling at him with disapproving scolds.

Rushing around the hood of the Porsche, Juyeon steps into the drivers’ seat - an unlikely sight, since he’s been chauffeured around most of the time.

“What in the world are you two doing? Stop him from leaving!”

The vehicle revs to life, and Juyeon fumbles under the passenger seat’s compartment box and every crook and cranny in the front of the car.

“Juyeon!”

He winds up the window on the driver’s side and locks the entire vehicle just as his father reaches the window. He tugs on the handle angrily, almost able to shake the entire car with his aggression.

“Juyeon, don’t you dare!”

Then, he finds it. A tracking device attached to all the cars his family owns.

Ripping it off the surface it was stuck into, he rolls down the window on the passenger’s side and hurls it out, straight into the arms of one of the bodyguards.

“Juyeon!”

He starts up the car and pulls it into drive, forcing his father to back off as he moves off.

#multifandomnet #juyeon fanfic #juyeon imagines #juyeon scenario #juyeon #lee juyeon #the boyz juyeon #tbz juyeon #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz #the boyz #love me a little less

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whumpmatsus · 3 years ago

Note

Why hello there new blog. 👀 I shall watch with interest. Would it be fine to ask for Karamatsu with a bad stomachache/similar?

hehe, I hope you enjoy watching!

and YES of course! God I'm such a Karamatsu girl 😩

We've got some of everything here, I think? Oops All Matsus! XD ... but the Choukeimatsu is definitely strong in this one haha

enjoooooy! <3

It’s kind of a given that in a house with six brothers in close quarters, anything one of them catches is going to end up running its way through all of them.

It’s… less of a given that Karamatsu is going to be the one who recovers last.

Most of the time he’s the first one to push through it, seemingly via sheer power of will because he wants to take care of the others. Or, at least, he’s not usually the one still down for the count when everyone else is on the mend.

This time around, he’s been curled up on the couch since all of them woke up this morning. They’re all feeling fine, while he’s apparently still feeling like crap.

He’s set himself up with a wastebasket nearby and he’s refused everything his brothers have tried to shove down his throat ― water, food, even medicine is turned away. They all might think he’s just being stubborn if not for the fact that he’s so clearly still sick. Regardless, they’ve stopped trying to offer since they know he isn’t going to take any of it.

As far as Karamatsu himself is concerned, if whatever sickness he’s got is going to kill him, he wishes it would hurry up and do so already. He doesn’t know how much more he can take. There’s an uncomfortable, cramping heat in his belly that’s constantly threatening to flip into something much worse. He’s been vomiting for a couple days now, on and off, like the rest of his brothers. Unlike them, however, it hasn’t gotten much better for him.

He tries so hard to be cool and unbothered. This is starting to worry him, though. How come everyone else is back to normal while he continues to struggle not to puke at the mere thought of plain rice?

For as much as Totty claims to hate germs, the youngest has been camping out next to the couch most of the morning, playing on his phone. It affords Karamatsu a view of the games Totty’s playing and the videos he’s watching; distractions as he tries to keep himself from tossing what little there is left to toss in his stomach. He isn’t sure whether or not Totty planned it that way, just that he’s grateful for something else to focus on other than the unbearable nausea.

“Heyyyy, Karamatsu-nii-san,” he suddenly speaks up, holding the phone closer to his miserable older brother’s line of sight. “What do you think of this pretty girl? Is her dress the right color for winter? It’s cute, but, I don’t know… I think maybe she would have looked better in blue…”

Now, Karamatsu isn’t sure what it is about the video clip Totty is showing him. It might be the bright lights in the background, or it might be the twirling motions the woman on the screen is making. Or, quite frankly, it might be nothing at all, since he feels so horrible.

But only a few seconds after he squints at the video clip, his stomach rebels against something. Although he wants to reply to his dearest younger brother, the second he parts his lips to give a clever retort, he feels his stomach clench. Saliva pools in his mouth, and he quickly raises a hand up to his face.

He swallows once. Twice. Three times. He tries to take a breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth like Choromatsu taught him. Nothing helps, because he ends up gagging anyway.

Immediately Totty yelps and launches himself away from the sofa. All the noise, particularly Karamatsu’s heaving, catches the attention of the rest of the sextuplets. Soon enough, someone has hurried over to hold the wastebasket beneath him, and someone else is using what feels like all their strength to help prop him over it so he doesn’t miss.

A brief glance up reveals that the one holding him is Jyushimatsu ― of course, he’s the most coordinated of them all ― and Choromatsu is playing trashcan jockey. Karamatsu’s head swims again, and that small motion is all that’s needed for his stomach to protest again. He retches a few times before whatever is left, which can’t be much at this point, splatters into the can.

“Totty!” he can hear Choromatsu scolding the youngest. “W-what the hell was that for?!”

“What was what for?!” Totty retorts. “I was trying to cheer him up! It’s not my fault!”

Ichimatsu snickers from his spot in the corner. “Che, so you made Shittymastu sick by trying to help. Sounds about right for you.”

“Excuse me?! You take that back or I’ll post that video of you being a drunk asshole online so everyone can laugh at my big, dumb brother!”

“HEY!” It’s Osomatsu who quiets the entire room with one sharp word. He’s knelt next to the couch, one hand trying to keep Karamatsu’s hair out of his face. “Would you guys all shut the fuck up? For God’s sakes, let the poor bastard puke in peace! The last thing he needs is to hear you douches arguing while he’s giving the trashcan a new coat of paint!”

For his part, Karamatsu appreciates his older brother standing up for him when he’s unable to do so himself. It’s just a little hard to convey that when his body is trying to bring up everything he’s eaten ever in his life.

It hurts, too. The sensation in his stomach is tight now, painful like there’s a knife stuck in his middle. Every gag makes a stabbing, all-over pain spiderweb through his whole body. As if he’s made of porcelain and something is repeatedly making cracks.

Finally he thinks it should be over, because nothing else is coming up. He shudders and heaves and it doesn’t produce anything other than an uncomfortable ache in his throat. Honesty, his entire body is aching now.

He lets out a few ragged breaths before slumping back onto the sofa, predictably pulled into a more-careful-than-usual Jyushimatsu hug. “It’s okay, Karamatsu-nii-san! I’ve got you!!”

“Aaah.” Karamatsu lifts his hand and places it, shaking, on his little brother’s head to praise him for a job well done. “Jyushimatsu… I’ll leave it to you… to tell my Karamatsu girls… I loved them…”

He hears Ichimatsu scoff. “You should be more worried that you were puking without puking than your nonexistent fangirls, you dumbass.”

“Yeah, that was weird,” Osomatsu agrees. “You heard that too, Ichimatsu?”

“Mhm. It almost made me want to hurl again.”

“Yeah… he should be better by now. I mean, we’re all fine. And he hasn’t been eating, so it’s not like there’s anything left in there. What’s his stupid body trying to throw up? His Goddamn kidneys?”

Karamatsu hears Choromatsu groan. “Oh, my God, you guys are disgusting!” When Karamatsu looks up, the third eldest is hovering over him with a concerned expression. “Ah… they… might be right, though. Karamatsu-nii-san… you’re just as sick as we all were at the beginning of this. It doesn’t seem like you’ve improved like we have. How… do you feel now? Any better since you threw up?”

He tries to laugh. It comes out sounding more like a sob, though. “N… no…” It feels like even too deep a breath will tip the scale on his nausea and cause another avalanche. “I’m… I’m dizzy… it still hurts.”

“A-ah, gosh…” Choromatsu’s hand sets lightly against Karamatsu’s cheek, then neck, and if his face is any indicator, he doesn’t like what he feels. “You’ve… still got a fever. And you’re sweating and lightheaded and… still throwing up. Shit.”

He moves his hand to gently card through his big brother’s hair as if trying to reassure him. “Karamatsu-nii-san… d-do you think you could make it to the doctor? If we helped you?”

That’s not an idea he enjoys entertaining. Having to get up off the couch, bundle up in a coat, ride the train… it sounds so exhausting. He’s already tired. But… if Choromatsu is even bringing it up, he must think it’s a better idea than Karamatsu continuing to try and recover on the couch.

He manages a nod. “Sure… sure, if you help me.”

“Great.” Choromatsu straightens up and heads for the door. “I’ll go call the office and see if they can get you an appointment today. If they can, I’ll go with you, and…” He surveys the rest of the room. “… I’d prefer at least onemore person go with us, just in case.”

“Yeah, I’ll go, no problem.” The eldest’s voice is one Karamatsu didn’t expect to hear, though maybe he should have. Osomatsu is still lingering on the floor next to him, taking the spot where Totty was, and, now that Karamatsu thinks about it, he can feel his older brother gently rubbing his shoulder. “… Do you think maybe we should try to force him to drink something, too? You can’t survive without water, right?”

Choromatsu sighs; not necessarily because it’s one more thing to add to the list, but it sounds like he’s just worried. He probably doesn’t want to force one of his brothers to do anything ― especially one of his big brothers, and especially when said big brother is already so sick. “I mean… yeah, it’s not good that he hasn’t had anything to drink today, and not much in the last few days. Throwing up so much is probably making him dehydrated… which, stupidly enough, can make him throw up more.”

Osomatsu hums in thought and gives Karamatsu’s shoulder a small squeeze to get his attention. “Hey, Karamatsu. Do you think you could handle some tea?”

“Really weak tea,” Choromatsu hurries to clarify. “You’re not supposed to drink anything too intense after throwing up.”

Karamatsu shuts his eyes in a desperate bid to avoid the worried, pleading faces of his brothers looking back at him. Just thinking about anything going into his body and sliding down his throat right now makes his stomach swirl viciously.

He feels Jyushimatsu hug him a little tighter, which doesn’t help matters. “Aww, please, Karamatsu-nii-san! You can drink some tea for your little brother, right? Riiiiight?”

A groan is what he gets in response, though the giggling suggests he isn’t too broken up about it.

His hair is brushed back, and stroked through a few times. “Well,” Osomatsu says softly, “how about for your big brother, then?”

After a moment of thought, Karamatsu lets out a whimper, leaning his head closer that way in an obvious attempt for more affection. “I… suppose I do only have one older brother, after all…”

He hears Choromatsu chuckle by the door. “Good, good. I’ll make some, then. We’ll try not to make you drink too much… and… I’ll call the doctor while I boil water for it. Hopefully they can fit you in. In the meantime, just, um… try to rest, alright?”

At the very least, he doesn’t have to tell Karamatsu twice. The second eldest relaxes, keeping his eyes shut. He hears Osomatsu quietly urge Jyushimatsu to switch positions, and he scoots himself up onto the couch. Somehow he manages to pull Karamatsu into his lap, letting his younger brother curl up against his stomach.

“Hey, there. It’s okay. Big brother’s gotcha, Kara.” A careful touch runs up and down Karamatsu’s back, bringing the slightest sense of relief. “Get some sleep.”

Then Osomatsu pauses, and with a laugh he adds, “Just… warn me if you’re gonna puke again, okay?”

#Osomatsu san #whump #Karamatsu #vomiting #fever #Osomatsu #Choromatsu #Ichimatsu #Jyushimatsu #Totty #aaaaaaaa tHEY'RE ALL TRYING sort of #one single effort was collectively made XD

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starsstruck · 4 years ago

Text

cloudbusting; part three.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. bar run ins, shameless flirting, and paintings lessons at sunset.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, alcohol, sexual content words: 12.6k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: i am very my excited to share this chapter, i hope everyone enjoys ! a big huge thank you to tina @sunflowers-styles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for helping me out and being the best ily💕💕

“I have two cold brews for here!” Calling out the easy order you just prepared, tight-lipped smile to the couple that picked up the drinks in front of them.

You had barely gotten much sleep the night before.

After your little breakdown, you ended up staying up late watching your favourite feel good TV show. And now you were working a long shift this Tuesday afternoon, annoyed by how busy it was, especially with the two deliveries that were bound to come any second.

Staying on bar to make drinks, not at all having the energy to stay at the register and talk to customer after customer.

Aleena understood more than most. She was happy to take till and let you be grumpy in the back, making drinks.

And it was the same thing the following day, except that you were working with Erinne and she was making you far too frustrated. She insisted on taking bar, and you had to run around her doing everything she was neglecting.

It was by the third day that week, that you finally got over your self-pity. Heading over to Mae’s and having a nice movie night with her.

As you often did after moments of indulgent crying, you recovered a few days later. A part of you knew that maybe in a few weeks or in a few months it would happen again, but that would be a problem for later.

But the week really turned around that Sunday night. After a week that lasted far too long, it ended with you sitting in a corner booth of a neighbouring bar with a wide grin spread across your face.

The weather was so lovely and the city so busy that the day had been nonstop. Working a long and tiring day, Aleena, Saya and you had all been eager to get a quick drink after locking up the shop.

The three of you always flowed well together, the two slightly older women being a blast to work with. A big reason why you always sneakily tried to scheduled the group together on weekends.

Now all seated with drinks in front of you, you were crushing the ice of your gin and tonic under your teeth that helped cool you down.

On top of a busy day it was so plainly hot out, and the heavy jeans you were wearing weren’t helping. You were happy to be sporting a short tank top, item that was previously under a light cardigan for the purpose of work.

Cardigan now in your purse, navy blue top being the only thing over your chest.

“Wait,” Aleena giggled, sipping on her mojito. “Did you hear what that guest said today?”

Chatting as you often did, sharing stories from shifts and odd complaints that you’d had from customers. “Which one?”

“Big group, the tall man with um,” Aleena paused, trying to remember. “Iced latte, no ice?”

You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous order, knowing very well how this story was going to end. “Said it was too warm – but no ice! He wanted a cold drink but we have to put a hot espresso shot in it. He got mad when I tried to explain it to him.”

“When was this?” You furrowed your brow, usually aware of whatever ridiculous reason a customer got mad.

“I think you were on your break,” Aleena thought it over.

Saya nodded along, agreeing with what Aleena said. “Yeah you were in the back – but it was so ridiculous! Wanted a refund and everything, but never ended up taking it? Even when we offered to make him a new one, he refused? I can’t deal with that.”

You watched as the two of them got annoyed over the situation all over again, completely reasonable in their frustration. “And it was busy too, he was holding up the line.”

It was just then that you caught sight of a familiar mess of dark brown curly hair, sitting on the opposite side of the bar from you. You squinted your eyes slightly, not sure if it was who you thought it was.

But then he turned his head the slightest bit, and you could make out the outline of his sharp features. The line of his cheekbones and then the dimple of his cheeks, lips spread as he smiled.

Quickly averting your eyes away from him, nearly hating the way you felt your body heat up at the sight of Harry.

Focusing your attention back to your friends, taking a big gulp of your drink. Still, you were unable to help the way your eyes trailed over to him every once and a while. He was with a few other people, you couldn’t see how many. Seated around a table in the far left corner, almost directly across from you.

You had no idea if he had seen you or not. But when you walked over to get another round for your group, you got very conscious about how you stood even closer to him.

As you got drinks for your colleagues, your phone starting vibrating in your back pocket. Mae’s name was flashing across the screen, missing the first call when you brought Aleena and Saya their drinks, but with a second call coming that had you scurrying out the heavy door to answer the call.

“Hey,” quickly speaking once you were tucked away in a corner outside the bar. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Mae’s laugh through the speaker calmed you down. “Yeah, sorry. I locked myself out of my apartment –”

She cut herself off. You were leaning back against the bricked wall, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

The loud chattering of a group walking past you overwhelmed your ears, and you were sure that Mae could hear them through the speaker.

“Are you out?”

“I’m just getting a drink – are you okay?”

“I locked myself out, really stupidly too. I was going to ask if you still had one of my spare keys but don’t worry! You’re out.”

“No Mae if you need me to –”

She cut you off. “Robin’s coming over, they have a spare key too. Don’t worry!”

You bit your bottom lip, stifling a laugh. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s such a nice night out, and Robin’ll be here soon. Have fun tonight!”

When she was reassuring you, your eyes flitted over to where a new person joined you outside. There were two groups of people standing together, sharing cigarettes and biding their goodbyes to each other. But as you glanced up at the new figure, your paused when Harry shot you a small smile.

Narrowing your eyes on him slightly, still on the phone with your friend. “Okay, well let me know when you get in. And really if you need me, I can be over with your key.”

Mae agreed that she would, and you were soon hanging up the call to glance back up at Harry who was lingering by you.

“Hi,” you finally spoke, feel heat rush to your face. You felt a bit sweaty, almost clammy in the warm summer night.

“Hi,” he breathed out, mirroring your words. He didn’t move from where he stood, watching as you walked over to stand next to him. “Thought I saw you earlier.”

“Yeah I’m with some people from work,” jutting your thumb out to point over you shoulder in the general direction of the door.

He nodded, glancing to where you pointed as if he could see through the wooden door. “Long day?”

“Very,” you sighed. “People are crazy.”

There was a slight pause, Harry shuffling on his feet while you stood straight, one hand tucked into your back pocket where you had just placed your phone.

“Were you heading home?” Asking after another few seconds, finding the silence heavy but neither of you moving away.

“No actually, not quite yet. I saw you head out – in fact I thought you were leaving. Just wanted to say hi,” he stumbled over his words slightly, eyes gleaming down on you in the dimly lit street.

“Just a phone call,” you broke out a small grin.

“Saw that,” he mirrored your expression, now that you were smiling at him. “I wanted to talk to you – I don’t know if I upset you or fucked up when I stayed past closing last time but I really didn’t mean –”

He cut himself off, and you couldn’t help but feel your smile grow at his words, watching his expression twist to confusion at your reaction.

“It’s really okay,” you couldn’t help the laugh that was bubbling up in your throat. “I’m not – never was – upset with you. Was just a bit of an off day, or couple days.”

Harry’s shoulder dropped, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Okay, I wasn’t sure if maybe you felt – well anyway. Sorry I haven’t been in to the café either, I was – well I was worried you were upset with me.”

Bottom lip lodged between your teeth, feeling blood rush to your neck when he apologized for not coming into your work all week.

“But, are you alright?”

You nodded, your little breakdown the previous week nearly laughable to you now. It might have been because of the drinks you had already had, but you found yourself especially now in a particularly good mood.

It wasn’t that you felt better about your situation by any means, it was more so that you had risen above your wallowing enough to be happy with what you were doing. Plus, it was healthy to have a nice big cry once and a while.

“Yeah, god it’s kind of silly. Just had a bit of a panic. You know how it is; was just too in my own head.”.

Harry’s smile was still wide on his lips but little furrow on his brow as he probably didn’t understand your ramble much less than you did. “Well,” he bit his lips together. “Hope your feeling better.”

You nodded, returning his smile as a small silence settled over the two of you. You were still tucked away in the corner, off the main part of the sidewalk with Harry a good arms length away.

Attention pulled away at the shriek of a laugh coming from a woman who was sharing a cigarette with a man nearby, Harry’s voice soon interrupting your brief distraction. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Gaze meeting Harry’s once again, not hesitating before answering. “Yes you can.”

Leading the way back to door of the bar, Harry holding it open as he walked in behind you. Your eyes drifted briefly to where Aleena and Saya were still siting, seeing them deep in conversation.

The bar currently wasn’t too full, some people seeming to have filtered out. Harry leaned forward, an elbow against the counter, looking back at you. “What did you want to get?”

“You choose,” you replied, seating yourself on an empty stool near where he stood. His mouth dropped as if to speak, but he quickly shut it with a curt nod and turned back towards the counter. He settled himself onto the stool next to you, knee bumping yours as his legs spread.

Getting the attention of one of the bartenders, telling them your drink orders. “Two whiskey sours, please,” he cast you a quick glance from the corner of his eye, before his attention turned back to the bartender who told him his total.

Reaching for his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and tapping his card on the terminal while the bartender prepared your drinks. “Did I choose well?”

“I don’t know,” you hummed. “I’ve never tried a whiskey sour.”

You leant your body closer to his, turning in your seat so that you were facing him. “It’s a bit bitter – if you like espresso I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Espresso is not supposed to be bitter,” you spoke without missing a beat. “Supposed to be balanced, and all that.”

“Yours is bitter sometimes.”

Your mouth dropped open. “It is not!”

“Sometimes,” he stressed, gleam in his eyes. “Don’t give me that. You’re still my favourite barista.”

“Good,” you muttered, small smile on the corner of your lips as his words rang through your head. The bartender placed two drinks in front of you, both quickly thanking them.

“Cheers,” tapping the tip of your glass with his. You both lifted the rims of you glasses to your mouths, Harry holding it there for a second as he watched you take a sip. The dark bitter liquor easily slid down your throat, and you kept your lips together as if that would hold in the taste.

He followed after you took your first sip, tongue darting out to quickly lick his lips before biting them down together. “So,” he spoke after a moment of watching you. “Did I choose well?”

“I think so,” you hummed after a second, going in for another sip.

Harry held onto his cup, busying his hands. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous with you all the sudden, as if he’d never been able to hold a conversation before. He was cautiously aware of the way his knee kept jutting out and hit yours, and the way that your hand brushed over his arm when you dropped your glass back on the counter.

“Did you need to head back to your table or …?”

He watched you turn your head, chin above your shoulder as you glanced behind your back. He followed your gaze, eyes focusing in the dim light to the table he had seen you at before. The two other baristas who you worked with were laughing.

“Don’t need to, no,” you hummed, facing forward again. “Think I’m good right here.”

His chest warmed at your voice. “What about you?” His eyes met yours when you spoke again. “You need to head back?”

Harry glanced back to the table he had been at, now filled with a new group of people. “My friends left already.”

You simply nodded once, taking another sip of your drink. Harry was worried about the silence in conversation, unsure of why he couldn’t think of anything to say to you –

“How’s your art going?”

Your words eased his nerves the slightest bit, blinking before he looked away from the glass in his hands and at you next to him. “Good –” he cleared his throat. “Good, yeah. Finally started working on something new.’’

“What is it?”

“It’s,” he brought his free hand to rub at the back of his neck. “It’s still in the works – I’m not too sure how its all going to turn out yet.”

You took another sip of your drink. “Is it what you’ve been working on when you come into the coffee shop?”

“Knew you’ve been spying over my shoulder,” he chuckled. “But yes. Like I told you last time – I like getting inspired by the space and all that.”

You weren’t sure if he was going to say more, watching as he brought his glass to his lips. “What about you? Ever do much painting, or anything of the sorts?”

“God no,” shaking your head, leaning your elbow against the bar. “I think last time I tried anything like that was years ago. I’m no good.”

He smiled, knee bumping yours. “Don’t have to be good to paint – it’s nice to just have fun with it.”

“That’s true,” you hummed. “Guess I never really thought about it; I clearly haven’t done it nearly enough.”

He glanced down for a beat. “If you want –we could paint together sometime.”

“Yeah?” You felt your chest heat up at his words. “That could be nice.”

His eyes settled on yours again, smile widening. “Glad to hear it.”

Swirling the liquid in your glass, before tipping your head back and taking a big sip. The affects of the liquor with the few drinks from before were slowly catching up to you – you weren’t drunk by any means but one might say you were starting to feel tipsy.

“I have a confession,” licking the liquor from your lips as you placed the glass back on the counter.

Harry leant forward on his elbow a bit, eyebrows rising slightly in curiosity. “Tell me.”

The corner of your lip grew as you felt yourself warm under his gaze. “I might have … already seen some of your work.”

“What?” He laughed, shaking his head slightly. His cheeks were rosy, and eyelids slightly heavy in a way that made you think he was probably a bit tipsy as well. “Where?”

“I – I happened to find your Instagram.”

His eyebrows rose even further, beaming smile on his lips. “You happened to find it? How exactly?”

“Not important,” you hummed, leaning your head on your hand as you tilted away from him.

“Okay,” he drew out the word. “And what did you think of what you found?”

Meeting his gaze again, turning in your seat so that your body was angled towards his again. “I liked it.” Answering simply.

“You liked it?”

You nodded, searching for the right words. “I don’t know a lot about art and all that. But I did like it, a lot. So colourful and just – well just nice.”

Mentally cringing to yourself at how poorly you had explained yourself. There was a smile on his lips as he listened to you, only glancing away to sip his drink.

“Thank you, really. Hope you’re not just saying that,” he teased.

“If I had hated it would’ve told you,” you deadpanned, smile in your eyes.

Harry laughed, head tilting back a bit. “Glad to hear it.”

Laughing lightly along with him, feeling the heat in your cheeks from the alcohol. “What about you?” Harry asked after a moment. “How’s the coffee game?”

“Oh,” you swung your foot from your stool. “Coffee game hasn’t changed.”

“You said you’d been working there for two years?”

You were surprised he remembered. “About two years there, yeah. But I’ve worked in a few other coffee shops as well, basically through most of university and since then as well. Ever since moving here I guess.”

“What did you study in college?”

“Poli sci,” you paused. “Not getting much use now.”

“That’s okay,” Harry shrugged. “No learning is really a waste, right?”

“Right,” nodding, realizing you were nearly done with your drink and not wanting to talk about college. “Can I ask you something?”

“Course,” he watched you.

“Who’s your favourite artist?”

Harry beamed. He didn’t answer right away, swirling his glass in his hand. “So I don’t have a single answer for you, tough to pick just one.”

You nodded, waiting for him to keep speaking.

“I really like the colours and the shapes of like, late impressionism. Like Matisse. But I also really like the theory, I guess, of mid 20th century artists. Identity of the self, ones around you – oh! Also Hopper – makes me a bit sad but in a good way, you know?”

You listened along, not having a clear mental image of everything he was talking about but liking to see how he talked about it. “I also really like Georgia O’Keeffe.”

That name you knew. “She did all those flower-vagina paintings, right?”

Harry chuckled; eyes cast down for a second. You were sure it must have been in the dim light of the bar, but you thought you saw the tips of his ears redden. “I mean, yes.”

“Again, I just really like the way she’s able to create her composition, the way everything is so layered and blended. Just – really nice form I guess.”

He fell quiet for another moment, and you weren’t sure if he was done speaking. “Sorry that didn’t make much sense; seem to not be able to explain myself very well right now.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shook your head, finishing off what was left of your drink. “I like hearing about it, I wish I knew more about art.”

“Never too late to learn,” he grinned. “Plus, you seem to run a pretty tight ship with those paintings that rotate throughout your shop.”

Unable to help the laugh that bubbled from your throat, head tilting back and eyes gently shutting.

“I told you,” jutting one of your legs out to lightly swat at his chin with your foot. Your leg lingered next to his, leaving your foot on the rest of his own stool instead of bringing it back to your own. Harry watched as you scooted forward on your stool slightly, elbow on the bar shifting as you as you edged closer to him. “I have nothing to do with that.”

He mirrored your laugh, eyes briefly glancing down to where your leg rested next to his, before back up at you. “I never heard from them, by the way.”

“I’m sorry,” you paused. “Maybe try again in a few weeks?”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged, though he didn’t appear that torn up about it. “Did you want another?”

Your gaze fell down to where his ring covered finger was pointing at your now empty glass. You quickly thought it over, knowing that one more drink would be fine as you weren’t feeling the liquor too too much. “Are you having another one?”

“I could,” Harry grinned, empty glass in front of him as well.

You slowly nodded. “Okay – let me get this one though.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s no worries, really. You can get it next time.”

You bit your lips together at the suggestion, unable to help the small curve in your lips. “Okay,” slowly speaking with a nod to your head. “Next time you come into the coffee shop I promise its on the house.”

Your feet fell flat on the floor of the bar, standing up. “I’m just going to head to the restroom,” you hummed, taking a step forward and letting your hand fall onto Harry’s shoulder for a light moment. “You can choose again.”

Harry’s eyes were stuck on you as you sauntered off, hands sliding in your back pockets with your elbows jutting out, the same way you did when you walked around the café.

You checked your appearance in the dimly light washroom, using toilet paper to blot at your sweaty skin. The bar was hot and humid, and you felt particularly oily after a long shift.

After leaving the restroom, you walked up to where Aleena and Saya still sat, small wave in their direction.

“What happened to you?” Aleena laughed, knowing very well she had seen you at the bar.

“Ran into someone,” you replied, shooting a quick glance to where Harry sat.

“Isn’t he a regular?” Saya followed your gaze, before turning to you with a little smirk. “Espresso over ice, right?”

You didn’t say anything, sure your expression gave it all away. “Sorry to have left you guys,” you said instead, feeling a bit guilty but knowing very well they didn’t mind too much.

“No, no it’s okay,” Aleena was sliding out of her chair, rising to her feet. “We were about to leave soon. You stay, have fun.”

You grabbed your purse that was still sitting with them, happy to have remembered that you had left it there.

“You’re both off tomorrow, yeah?” You already knew the answer, always good at remembering who was working when, especially since you made the schedule.

They both confirmed what you already knew, grabbing their things as they walked with you away from their table and towards the exit.

“I’ll see the two of you in a few days then! Have a good time off.”

After biding goodnight to your colleagues, walking over with purse in hand to go join Harry once more. “Sorry about that,” you hummed, sliding back into your seat next to him. “Just saying goodbye to my friends.”

“No worries at all,” his eyes fell to yours once you were seated. You didn’t miss how his stool seemed to be much closer to yours this time, legs resting inches apart.

“Got you a long island – figured you’d like it since I see you drinking so much iced tea.”

Again a bit impressed that he remembered, you were very much appreciating a long island ice tea. Taking a big gulp, letting the slightly sweet liquid easily slide down your throat.

Conversation fell easily between the pair of you, inching closer to each other all over again. Talking to Harry was so easy – and every time he sent you that dimpled grin you felt your head spin.

Your skin was sticky from the hot night, and you found yourself wishing you could be wearing a dress or shorts or anything but the thick jeans you had on from work. Also, as Harry’s knee bumped yours for the thousandth time under the bar, this time resting against yours instead of moving back, you found yourself wishing there were less layers between your skin.

You soon found yourself with a glass half empty, leaning forward with your head resting on your hand and elbow just against Harry’s arm on the bar.

“Hope I haven’t been keeping you,” Harry murmured, gaze heavy on yours.

“Haven’t,” shaking your head. You had no idea what time it was but the fact that the bar had significantly emptied clued you in enough. “Though I do think I should be heading home soon.”

His hand fell to his lap, sliding it over his leg and closer to where yours rested against it. “Let me walk you.” He squeezed your knee.

You cast your eyes down, quick glance to where his hand rested on your leg. “That would be nice.”

His touch lingered on you before pulling away. You saw his eyes fall over your face when you stood from the stool and reached for your bag that hung hooked under the bar. Grabbing your phone from your back pocket, quickly checking the time. It was nearing one in the morning – you were surprised by how much time had gone by.

You felt woozy – your lips bit between your teeth and hair sticking to your skin. Harry had gotten much closer to you through the night, and you him, and all you could think about right now would be what it would feel like to finally have him properly hold you.

Harry stood to his feet next to you, hand reaching out towards you as if to rest on your back, but seemed to decide against it. Still, he hovered close behind you as you headed out toward the door.

Swinging your bag over your shoulder, walking through the thick wooden door into the cooler night air. Harry quickly joined your side, lazy grin on his lips. “Are you cold?”

“No,” shaking your head, you watched as he neared you and stopped when he stood by your side.

“You’ve got goosebumps,” Harry’s voice had dropped, as he brought a hand to trail up your arm, letting it rest lightly on your shoulder. His hand was warm and heavy on your skin – if you didn’t have goosebumps before you were sure to now.

“Oh,” it was all you could manage to say.

You were unmoving on the mostly empty sidewalk, a bit tucked away in the corner by the same place you took your call earlier that night. His hand slid on your skin, feet moving on the pavement so that he stood closer to you – close enough that you could smell the liquor on his lips and something else, maybe it was his cologne or his detergent or just something that was making your head spin.

“Did I tell you how good you look tonight?” He murmured, like honey in your ear.

All you could manage was a small shake of your head.

“You look so good tonight,” his voice somehow even lower, breath hitting your skin. His hand slid across your shoulder, resting at the crook of your neck with his thumb brushing over the skin under your jaw.

Every one of your nerves was on fire – your senses overwhelmed with the man in front of you.

“I’m wearing my work clothes,” your eyes narrowed on his slightly, feeling his other hand grip at where your jeans ended and a small sliver of exposed skin rested. His fingers hooked through one of your belt loops, tugging you gently against him.

“You look good at work too,” he breathed.

You saw him unashamedly staring at your lips, eyes cast down as his fingers gave your hip a small squeeze.

And then your back was arching in his grip, hand sliding to grab at the neckline of his shirt. A quiet short gasp was sound from your parted lips when your mouths finally met.

Harry’s lips were soft and firm, drawing you in closer as they slotted on yours. Hand wrapping around the back of your neck, the thumb under your jaw was pushing your head to tilt towards his. His other hand was toying with the flap of the pocket on your jeans, tugging on the material as his legs bumped with yours.

His lips nudging yours, mouth parting slightly. Your free hand mirrored the other, gripping onto his shoulder to wrap him closer to you. He pulled you in deeper, tongue brushing yours. He tasted slightly bitter like the liquor you had drank, and like bittersweet chocolate – he tasted like a perfect balance.

Feeling your stomach flutter when Harry let out a shaky breath against you, pulling away for a brief second with a small bite to your bottom lip. Peeking your eyes open, seeing his darkened eyes opened as well. His pupils were slightly blown, cheeks reddened and lips kissed raspberry red.

Your name was a whisper on his lips, before he was pulling you in for more. His hand left your hip for a brief moment, walking you backwards until his hand met the wall and he pressed you against it. Your mouths were greedy, wet and hot.

You passed a little whine from your mouth to his, his chest covering yours as his hand slid around the exposed skin at your midriff. He had your body pinned with his, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were melting into the wall with the way he felt against you.

“I think –” you mumbled after a moment of heavy breaths. “I should head home.”

Harry pressed another kiss to your mouth, lips smacking together. “Yeah – okay,” he pulled only his head away, dipping down for a second with his forehead against your cheek. “I’ll walk you.”

He pulled away, slowly, from you. Hand sliding down your arm until his finger tips toyed with yours, tugging you away from the wall with him.

When you started the walk, it oddly felt like something so natural. Like you did this all the time, side by side. His arm kept brushing yours as he kept close to you, hand dancing with yours but never quite grabbing it.

The bar was both close to your work and your place. An easy fifteen minutes before you were slowing down in front of the steps that led to the door of your apartment.

Pointing up at the building, stopping in the street and turning to Harry. “I’m just up here.”

He finally grabbed your hand. Pulling you in close to him, heavy eyelids trained on you. “Happy I ran into you tonight,” he hummed, bottom lip between his teeth. “You’re not working tomorrow, are you?”

You nodded. “I open tomorrow.”

“Open?” His eyes widened, voice rising. “Fuck I’m sorry –”

“Not your fault,” you laughed, cutting him off. “I wanted to stay.”

He was quiet for a second. “Don’t you have to be up in like, five hours?”

“Something like that,” you pressed your hand to his chest, just as you had when you kissed him. “So I’m going to head up.”

Leaning forward, bypassing his mouth and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you.”

You didn’t get much sleep, but this time it was okay. You weren’t in a bad mood, and your opening shift went off without a hitch.

Happy when Dani shuffled in, your first customer of the day. You handed him his crossword puzzle and hopped on making his drink, hands working on autopilot.

“Late night?” Dani asked, when you brought him his coffee with a stifled yawn.

“Something like that,” you hummed, placing his drink on the table in front of him, and taking a moment to sit across from Dani and sip on your own.

Another early morning face you saw that Monday, a surprise to you considering it was just past seven, was Harry.

He had his squared sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose, hair tousled as if he had woken up and let if fall wherever it pleased; a look you found yourself very much enjoying.

He had on small black running shorts and a grey shirt, an outfit you could only describe as athleisure. It was for sure an outfit that you had never seen on him, one you didn’t even imagine possible, but one you quickly grew a liking to.

He walked over to the counter, eyes flitting over to where you were sitting with Dani.

“Someone’s trying to take your attention away from me,” Dani laughed, head nodding Harry, seeing him patiently waiting for you with a small smile on his lips.

“The nerve,” you joked, knowing very well that Harry could hear you in the almost empty café.

Slowly rising back up to your feet, making the short distance across the floor until you were facing Harry form the other side of the counter.

Giving him a wide smile, tilting your head to the side. “You’re here early.”

“Going for a run,” he motioned to his outfit. “Needed a little coffee first, I didn’t get much sleep last night to be completely honest.”

You bit your lips together. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I would’ve brought you a coffee but …” he trailed off, motioning to the espresso machine that sat on the opposite side of the counter. “That didn’t make much sense.”

You laughed lightly, eyeing your mug that was still sitting on the table in front of Dani.

Harry continued. “I also seem to remember you saying something about a coffee on the house?”

Your eyebrows rose. “Oh, so is that the only reason you came in?”

“Helps, doesn’t it?”

“Well if that’s the case,” you laughed, waving to the machine that sat a few feet away. “What can I get for you?”

“You choose for me.” He grinned, repeating your words from the night before at the bar.

Bottom lip lodged between your teeth, you weighed your options. You scooped some ice into a to go cup, before pouring in some cold brew that you had brewing previous day.

“This is one of my favourite roasts,” you hummed, sliding the cup over to him.

Harry grabbed the cup form the counter, piercing a blue paper straw through the lid. “I trust your judgment,” he nodded, lips circling around the straw with his eyes on yours. You watched as he swallowed the chilled liquid, toothy grin on his lips. “Fruity.”

“Very fruity.” You confirmed.

Harry was quiet for a moment, before speaking up again. “I should get running,” Harry took another sip of his cold brew. “But I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Is that a threat?” You joked after his emphasis on the words.

“It’s a promise.” You didn’t know if it was imagined because he was turning away, but you were sure you saw him shoot you a cheesy little wink.

He waved bye to you, waving to Dani as well who seemed confused by the action but still returned the goodbye.

And true to his words, Harry was back two days later.

It was Wednesday afternoon, and he came in wearing brown trousers and a white shirt that had the word ‘sex’ on it. It was odd, and you briefly wondered what possessed him to buy the shirt, but you didn’t question it.

He waved hello to Aleena who was training a new staff member and walked up to where you stood by the furthest counter near the back door, currently slicing up a loaf of banana bread. “Hey!”

“Hi,” he stood opposite side of the counter as you, watching you place your knife down and grab plastic wrap to secure the sliced pieces.

“What brings you in today?” You asked, as if there wasn’t an obvious answer.

“Many reasons, actually.” He raised an eyebrow. “Main one being I wanted to ask you something.”

Your smile grew. “And what is that?”

“Well I remember you saying something about wanting to try out painting with me sometime.”

“I think I did say something like that. Why?” You teased, leaning forward on the counter in front of you with your arms crossed over your chest.

His hands were fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “Well –” he cleared his throat, “do you think that sometime could be soon?”

“Yeah? Like when?”

“Are you closing today?”

“Nope, actually I’m off at six,” you glanced at the clock. “A bit of a different shift since we’re training,” nodding your head back to the new staff member that was watching Aleena steam milk. “Good for me, since I don’t need to close.”

“And…” he paused. “Are you doing anything afterwards?”

You mulled it over, already knowing your answer but wanting to leave him hanging the slightest bit.

“I am not,” you finally spoke, smiling lightly. “I think I can make it work.”

Harry smile widened, tapping his hands on the counter. “Music to my ears.”

He glanced at the clock behind him, seeing there was about half an hour or so until you were free from work. “Did you need to go home first? I was thinking we could walk right over to my place when you’re off.”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself. “To change? My clothes are a bit covered in grounds.”

Wiping your hand over your front, flicking off the stray coffee grounds that always ended up on your clothes, today’s victim being a loose denim dress that hit the spot below your knees.

Following as Harry’s eyes fell over your outfit, lingering on your body for a slight moment. You couldn’t help but warm slightly under his gaze.

“Whatever you’re comfortable in,” he shrugged. “But for the record, I think you look great.”

“Thank you,” you murmured. “Think I should be good, though, to head over. Did you want a drink, while you wait?”

He nodded, dimples never disappearing from his cheeks as he didn’t cease smiling. “Maybe an iced tea?”

You saw him reach for his wallet, and you shook your head. “On the house, remember?”

Making him an iced tea with no sweetener since you didn’t take him as the type to want any, handing him the glass with a green paper straw. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

The next thirty minutes went by fairly quickly, showing the new hire, Andy, the first steps of a closing shift. It was at two minutes until six o’clock, when you headed to the washroom in the back.

Hand over your hair to fix it up, and swiping the skin under your eyes to wipe off the mascara that was a bit smudged.

Glancing down at your jean overall dress, the thin straps dipping a bit low. Other than that little detail, you didn’t think that the loose fabric that hit below your knees was that attractive. It was comfortable, to say the least, but it wouldn’t be something you wore on a date – or what you assumed might be a date.

But Harry’s words from before floated across your mind, and you told yourself that it was fine that you didn’t look the best you possibly could. You were just nervous.

Harry noticed you walking out form the back right away, standing to his feet to join you. You yelled a bye to Aleena, no missing the way she waggled her eyebrows at you and Harry.

He didn’t live that far away from the coffee shop – something that was no surprise to you. The walk was just over twenty minutes and a few stories up in the older looking apartment building.

He held the door open for you, as you took in his place. You always loved seeing people’s places, especially those of people closest to you. You may or may not have been caught snooping a few times in cabinets, something that you wished you had some shame in but really you were just a bit nosy.

He had wide windows on one side, something that you thought was supremely ideal and incredibly stunning, you believed that when the sunsets occurred the whole room must shine a hue of orange. Near the window were stacks and stacks of canvases, leaning against the wall, with an easel standing on the ground amongst smaller nearly blank canvases resting on it.

There was a little table with a jar that had brushes, two sketchbooks, and a canvas bag. He had a box that appeared to be filled with tubes of paint, and a table lined with item after item where you couldn’t even begin to think about what their purpose could be.

Underneath a corner in his studio, was brown paper spread over the floor, no doubt to protect it from all the splatter.

“This is a nice place,” you finally spoke after a moment of kicking off your shoes and peering around the space.

“Yeah, I really lucked out,” Harry placed his bag on the chair by the door. “Do you want me to show you around or…?”

You pointed to where the paintings were stacked, already catching a glance at some. “I want to see those.”

He chuckled, walking over as you followed. He began flipping through them, once and a while stopping to pull one out. They were all around the same size, quite big, and about the size of an average coffee table.

“These are my favourites,” he watched you as your eyes rested on the paintings that were now fully facing you, propped up against the wall.

You had to agree with him, although you hadn’t seen all of them. They looked even better in person, leaving you a bit lost for words as you felt a bit dumbfounded. They all had big patches of colours, something you recognized from when you took a peek at his Instagram.

Your favourite one had what appeared to be two people in it, both standing on opposite sides of the street. The buildings in the back were painted mixes of blue and green, the sky dark behind them. The people themselves had little detail, faces hidden with the most focus on their clothes.

Realizing you had been quiet for a moment, you turned to Harry, who was steadily watching you. “They are much better in person,” was all you could find yourself saying. “I – I really like them.”

Harry had a small smile playing on his lips. “Thank you,” he hummed, nodding appreciatively.

“Is that what you’re working on now?” Pointing behind him, to where he had what seemed to be yet another black sketchbook out on the floor with a few almost blank canvas around it.

“Yeah,” Harry hesitated, not moving. “But too much of a work in progress – not ready to be seen by anyone yet.”

“Of course,” nodding, as a quick movement near the ground caught your eye. Realizing the sight before you, mouth dropping open a bit.

“And who is this,” your voice rose an octave, dropping down to rest your elbows against your knees.

A small calico was padding across the floor, deep brown eyes focused on you as it tentatively made its way towards your extended hand. The cat nudged your hand with its nose, before taking a few steps closer to you and letting you scratch the top of its head. “Aren’t you the cutest.”

“She’s very needy,” Harry stood next to you, watching as you got acquainted with his housemate.

She moved closer to you, butting her head against your shin. She had very quickly gotten familiar with you, eyes shutting with small purrs coming from deep in her throat as your nails scratched over her neck.

Turning your attention to Harry for only a second, glancing up at him from where you were kneeling. “What’s her name?”

He grinned down at you. “Cherry.”

“Cherry,” you cooed, full attention back on the calico by your feet. “Oh, you’re so full of love.” Speaking to the cat, letting her rub her head onto your arm.

Realizing after a moment that you were getting far too distracted by the cat, giving her one last ear rub before standing to your feet. “Sorry,” you smiled. “I think I love her.”

“Don’t apologize,” he chuckled, bending down himself as she was finally saying hello to him. “She loves a cuddle.”

He easily scooped her up, bringing her up until she was held against his chest. His hand easily covered her, fingers moving through her fur.

There was something about seeing Harry’s wide chest with a little cat against it. Something you had never thought would make him that much more attractive. It was just the juxtaposition, his hands grabbing her entire frame, making her appear much smaller and him that much broader.

“What?” Harry’s laugh cut through your thoughts, making you realize you had been quiet for a moment too long.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, taking a step forward and brought your hand up to the little cat’s head. “She’s just too cute,” scratching your fingertips along her head once again, nails scratching over Harry's shirt-covered chest every so often.

When Cherry started to squirm in his grasp, he lowered himself slightly, letting her jump from his arms and skillfully onto the ground.

“Did you want anything to drink, or eat?”

Shaking your head, thinking about the coffee after coffee that you pounded back at work, and the bits and pieces of baked goods that you snuck for yourself. “I’m good, thank you though.”

“Want to get to some painting, then?”

Smiling over at him, not missing the way that the little calico was still demanding your attention by your legs. “I would love to.”

Harry shuffled some things around, seeming to pull out a second smaller easel from a closet to the corner, fumbling around with the clasps and settings on it until it was resting upwards, closer to the ground. You watched, not really knowing what to do, as he did the same with the other easel, moving it on the ground as they sat next to each other.

“Thought we could sit on the floor –” he turned back to face you, loose curls falling over his forehead. “If you want to stand that’s okay too.”

“Floor’s good,” you grinned, taking a step over to where he was setting everything up. He was digging through a box on the table, pulling out some paint tubes and brushes.

“Thinking we could use acrylic,” he talked, and you weren’t too sure what he meant so you simply nodded. “I usually do oil but it’s a bit tougher to handle, especially if you’ve never used it before.”

“Okay,” the word sounded so small in answer, you wished you had more to add but in all honesty you never thought much about the different types of paints.

“For you,” Harry stood again after laying out a series of tubes on the floor next to the easels, motioning to the spot. “Let me know if you want a pillow or something, or if the ground is uncomfortable.”

“Should be okay,” you stepped over onto the brown paper covering the floor, noticing specks of dried paint already splattered over it. You adjusted the hem of your dress when you sat down, small bend in your knees and your feet flat on the ground.

Harry left for a second, rusting in the closet to the side once more before he came back with two smaller canvases. “Primed and everything,” he placed one in front of you, and for him as he settled down on the floor next to you.

“Thank you,” smiling over at him, not touching anything he put out and keeping your hands clasped together.

He seemed to notice your hesitation, handing you a small flat brush. “Use whichever colours you want,” he spoke slowly, motioning to the tubes next to you. “A palette out for you and water is in this jar.”

Nodding again, flipping the brush between your index and middle finger on instinct. “What should I paint?”

Harry laughed. “Absolutely anything you want,” he opened a tube of yellow, squirting some out on his own palette in his hand. “Whatever comes to mind.”

“What are you going to paint?”

You saw his bottom lip jut out slightly, thinking back to when he had kissed you a couple nights ago and how that lip was between your teeth. “No fun in telling you right away, you’re just going to have to wait and see.”

Laughing lightly, you decided to grab the first colour that came to mind: blue.

You didn’t really have anything in mind, thinking that maybe you should listen to Harry and just follow whatever you felt.

Harry started right away, easily mixing a deep yellow and crimson on his canvas that turned into an orange that was nearly too bright. He wasn’t paying much attention, though, watching you from the corner of his eye.

You had your head tilted down, arms resting on your knees with one hand perched down, mixing some blue on the palette. With your bottom lip between your teeth, and a little furrow to your brow, you grabbed some yellow, and then some more blue.

You were swirling the colours together, resulting in a brighter blue, and you brought the brush up to the canvas. He saw you hesitate again, tip of the brush not making contact with the white canvas.

“Don’t think too much about it, love.”

The pet name slipped past his lips easily, not even thinking about it. Your attention turned to him as he spoke, and he didn’t miss the way that the corner of your lips turned up, before you bit said lips together.

“Okay,” the word was a quiet murmur, as your attention was back on the canvas, you painted a thick blue line right on the left side.

After that, you seemed to ease up a little, mixing various hues of blue, not really having a plan as you painted them over and next to each other. You didn’t really know what you were doing, but you were enjoying yourself.

It was therapeutic, the way that the thick paint smoothed over the canvas in the same way that an espresso shot poured so fluidly into a mug.

You were catching quick glances at what Harry was doing every once and awhile, seeing him add blue shapes on the opposite side to where the orange was.

It was like that for a bit, and you didn’t know how long. A nice calm atmosphere around the both of you, with small snippets of conversation here and there.

Your painting wasn’t advancing that much, but you seemed to have some big aspects going on. A dark, maybe angry, blue on the bottom of the canvas, and a light and deep toned one on the top.

As you kept glancing over to Harry, you realized that he was painting two sets of hands, nearly grasping each other but not quite yet. You were quietly amazed by his skill.

After another period in silence, with the only noise coming from outside as the window above your head was propped open, you felt Harry start to shift from next to you. First, he stretched out his legs, and then his arms.

And then you heard the paper under you rustle, Harry moving to his knees as he shuffled closer to you. You were watching him from the corner of your eye, trying not to pause in your movements to avoid showing that you were paying any attention to him.

Feeling his presence linger, you finally cast him a glance over your shoulder. Still not speaking as you silently held his gaze, watching his eyes stop over your lips for a moment before looking past at the canvas in front of you.

“Can I –” he leaned in closer to you. “Show you a few techniques?” His voice was smooth in your ear, not really asking a question as the shirt over his chest brushed your back.

You simply nodded, mind reeling a bit as his lips lingered near your ear.

It was then when he lowered himself from his knees, seating himself behind you. Your movements froze, not fully able to see him as you sat still, and faced forward. His legs widened a bit as he sat back, slowly unfolding one at a time and placed his feet on the ground, bent at the knees and loosely casing you in.

Your skin jumped under his touch when a hand was wrapping over yours, leaning his body in even closer so that his chest was fully pressed against your back. You could feel the small puffs of air leave his nose that hit the top of your shoulder.

He guided your hand down to dip the tip of the brush into the mixed paint by your side, moving both of your limbs together. “Just like,” his voice was deep and quiet in your ear, moving your hands back up near the canvas. “Just like this.”

You didn’t dare look back at him – knowing that one glance would have you gone. You were sure his eyes were glowing and that he had that dumb little smirk on his lips; his lips that were oh so pink and slightly wet from how much he bit them.

Just the feeling of him gently pressed against you, chest digging into your back slightly deeper every time he moved your arms together, was making your head spin. You could barely pay attention to what he was doing to the canvas, solely focused on the feeling of his skin on yours.

“Just like that,” he murmured deep in your ear, bit of stubble scratching your skin when his chin moved forward to rest on top of your shoulder.

Nearly dropping the paintbrush when his hand let go of yours, catching it in an awkward manner. He slipped his hand away, sliding it up your forearm until it rested lightly over your elbow. His other hand was still resting by his side on the ground, and all you wanted was for his arms to squeeze around you while his thighs did the same.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, forcing your attention back to the splotch of colours that stood in front of you on the canvas. You were painting continuous little blue lines along the right side, layering the slightly different shades.

It was when you had started to focus a bit more on the darker colour you were mixing, that Harry’s chin moved from your shoulder. Instead, you felt his nose brush over the crook of your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine which you hoped he hadn’t noticed.

Though you know he did. And when he placed his lips on your skin and whispered ‘just like that’ one more time, you became putty under him.

You tried not to appear affected by him, you really did, but you also didn’t know how it could be physically possible to focus on anything other than him at the moment. The brush stilled in your hands, arm resting exactly where it was and halting in all movements.

His lips were moving down the nape of your neck, small barely-there kisses that were like whispers over your skin. The hand on your elbow slipped under your arm, gripping your waist with his fingers bunching into the baggy material of your dress.

A whisper of your name onto your skin was all it took. Your eyes pulled away from the mess of blue on the canvas, having to lean away from Harry to properly gaze over your shoulder at him.

Eyes heavy on yours, gaze sharing unspoken words. You watched his eyes drop down without a shame to stare at your mouth, dilated pupils tracing the soft curve of your lips. You couldn’t help but wet them under his intense stare.

The sight of him blurred as he neared you until your eyes shut and his lips covered yours.

Your neck was tensing from the uncomfortable position, tilting around your shoulder, but when you tasted Harry again you didn’t care.

His mouth took your bottom lip between his teeth, grazing over it before releasing it and he craned his neck further around your shoulder to properly kiss you. His hand grabbed onto your dress, holding the fabric tighter in his grip.

Kissing Harry again felt even better than the last time. Even in the nearly painful position, you wanted to pull him in closer and deeper and not be able to know where you ended and he started.

He was warm and bright just like the hot August evening, beaming like the sun through the window. He drew you in closer and made you feel so at peace – at this moment you couldn’t remember ever feeling stressed.

A gasp escaped from the back of your throat, Harry’s mouth moving over yours in slow and deep movements. Like last time, he eased his way into your mouth slowly, savouring your taste. Tasting like coffee, and something sweet he couldn’t get enough of.

Legs that rested by your sides closed in on you a bit, squeezing your hips when he turned in to try and rest even closer to you. The position was awkward, the brush still half hanging in your hand, while your other hand moved around behind you to lace through Harry’s hair.

He was kissing you deeply, tongue delving in against yours. Although you were in close proximity with his front pressed against your back, you wanted to be closer. You wanted to be on top of him, or vice versa, you wanted to be able to feel his weight against you.

As if reading your mind, Harry parted your lips with a light pant, eyes fluttering open as he licked over his moistened lips. Slowly releasing you from his grip without a word, scooting back a bit until not a single sliver of skin was touching yours anymore. You felt him grip the paintbrush from your hand, leaning across the floor to place it in the little jar of water he had set out.

“Turn around for me, love.”

Skin warming at the tone of his voice and the words he was saying. You decided he could’ve told you anything in that voice and you’d easily listen.

You shifted forward a bit awkwardly, with your hands on the ground beneath you to hold you in place as you moved around on your bum until you were facing him.

He looked stunning in the warm glow of the sunset, orange beams pushing through the window and kissed the tip of his cheek. His hair was a bit tousled from your hand that had run through it, eyes dark and intent on yours and lips begging for more.

He sat an arm length away, raising his right hand as if to cup your face but he let it hover by your side. Your skin burned to feel his touch on you. “I’ve got paint on my hands,” he murmured, eyes glancing down. “Already got some on you.”

“I don’t care,” your own hand reached out for him. Curving it around his neck, pulling him closer to you until your lips were once again connected.

Harry shifted closer to you, hand resting by the crook of your neck while the other was placed on your knee. Wet lips were greedy for each other, licking deep into your mouth as he let out a shaky breath through his nose.

The hand on your knee squeezed it, thumb brushing circles onto the skin. His touch was sending sparks under your skin, and all you wanted was to feel more of that.

And when his hand slid up the slightest bit up and his lips enveloped your bottom lip, the softest moan escaped past your parted lips and Harry knew he needed more as well.

“Can you lay back for me.”

His own legs rested by your side, slowly lifting himself to his knees. His eyes were heavy on yours, watching your head slowly nod as you leaned back on the hand behind you.

The hand that was resting by your neck slid down your arm, holding you as he eased himself down, letting your back hit the floor under you. His legs extended out next to yours, shuffling himself so that he had one between your own before he moved to hover over you. One hand keeping himself slightly at level, he pressed the rest of his body down on yours until your lips were reconnected.

“Are you comfortable?” A quick kiss to your lips before he lifted his face away, eyes flicking between your own.

You quickly nodded, swallowing a breath as your fingers held the material of his shirt. “Yes.” Moving your hand from his bicep up around his neck, fingertips tapping lightly against his collarbone. Some loose curls were falling over his forehead and were pushed out of the way when you brought your hand up to run your fingers through them.

Running your nails over his scalp, lowering his head down to yours until your lips met once more. It was slightly different this time; hotter, a tinge of desperation behind both of your movements. Every touch of his skin on yours was sending a bolt of pleasure straight down to where you craved him the most.

The breathing in the room growing heavier, your whines laced with the small puffs of air. His own lips slid to your jaw, then to your neck where he nipped the spot right under your earlobe. Committing you to memory, capturing every inch of your skin, and every sound you made.

He still had a hand resting by your knee, having slid up along with the hem of your dress just hitting the middle of your thighs, as if about to ask if he could move his hand further up, lips parting against yours.

You sucked in his bottom lip between your own, teeth grazing of the thin skin as if giving silent permission. He pulled away slightly, eyelids flitting open. His eyes darkened, voice husky in your ear. “I – I need you to tell me what you want.”

“Please,” mouth searching for his once again. You circled a hand around his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. His hand holding himself up found your arm by your side, trailing his fingers along your forearm until your fingertips were intertwining. “Just – anything.”

Pulling your hand up along with his, keeping it down on the ground above your head, his lips slid away from yours again as he pulled a whimper from your throat, hot breath hitting the side of your neck.

“Still got paint on my hands,” he rasped as his lips brushed over the skin under your earlobe. “Getting it on your thighs.”

“Don’t care,” repeating your words from before with a lift of your hips.

The slow-building ache between your thighs was at an all-time high, as you were hyper-aware of Harry’s hand that was pushing under your dress. You felt an involuntary buck of your hips as he shifted over you, thigh brushing over where you wanted so badly to feel him. “Oh.”

Eyes falling to Harry’s, catching him already watching you. He had that small lift in his lips, the subtle smirk as he knew what he was doing.

And then he was dipping his head lower again, as his hand rose higher on your thigh, pushing the denim of your dress up along with it. His nose skimmed the edge of your dress strap, nudging it aside before his lips kissed over your collarbone.

His fingers were inching their way up your leg, tips just brushing over the corner of your thigh. He was moving oh so slowly, while his lips hotly kissed and sucked on your skin.

He moved the fingers that were still intertwined above your head down, letting go as he let you reposition your own hand through his hair. His fingers were quick to touch your side, fiddling with the hem of your dress that was moved up significantly.

Lips breaking away from your skin, gazing up at you through heavy eyelashes, you nearly had to look away by how intense his gaze was, but you were worried about what you’d miss if you did.

Both hands now on either thigh, edging the fabric of your dress up while his eyes didn’t waver from your own, lifting your bum the slightest bit to help move the material up, until he caught sight of your blue cotton underwear and the fabric was gathered just above your hips.

Suddenly Harry was shuffling down your body, paper rustling under his knees, his forearms pushing at your thighs. When you felt his breath hit the crease of your skin, you were scrambling to prop yourself up on an elbow.

You watched him rise to his knees and then to his feet, watching the slight confusion dawn your features as he quickly walked through his apartment and over to the couch that sat opposite to you. He didn’t leave for long enough for you to even begin to shuffle up, quickly reappearing with a plush blanket in hand.

Soon finding himself in the same position he was previously, not before plopping the blanket down on the ground and guiding you to move your hips on top of it.

“More comfortable this way,” he chuckled at your expression, hands quick to grab at your skin once more.

He pushed your legs further apart, bending at the knee as your legs butterflied. He kept stealing glances at you, making sure he wasn’t pushing you too far.

“What are you,” you paused, swallowing a thick breath as your mind was unable to focus on a simple thing other than the fact Harry was hovering dangerously close to where you were aching. “What are you doing.”

“Paint,” was all he said, lips wet on your skin. “Can’t use my hands.”

Sliding his body the few more inches he needed for his mouth be level with the inside of your thigh, pulling a shaky breath from you as he lowered his lips. His lips grazed right over the skin of your inner thigh, leg jolting at the touch.

“Can I?” his voice rasped deep from below you, hot breath warming your entire body. “Tell me if I can.”

You needed to swallow a heavy gulp before answering, unable to believe the anticipation that was building. “Please, yes.”

A high gasp sound from your throat when his lips closed over your clothed core, pressure against your clit. His hands that had been holding your thighs apart moved over your hips, the cotton of your underwear between his thumb and index finger.

Lifting your hips, your own hand coming down to pull at the fabric of your garment, Harry was quick to take hold of said hand, wanting to be the one to undress you. Inching the fabric off of you, he eased your thighs to bend, making it easier to fully discard the thin material.

Moving your hand to rest in his hair, hands on your thighs again with his eyes skimming over every inch of skin in front of him. You were wanting to watch his every move, and tightly shut your eyes. You decided on the former, fingers locking tightly in his hair as his lips skimmed over the sensitive skin of your thighs once again.

Harry was reveling in the sight before him; having you spread for him with the sunset casting a golden glow all over your body. Your dress bunched around your hips, cunt glistening, eyelids heavy and lips wet as you breathlessly panted his name. “Harry.”

“Fuck,” he muttered against you when he finally got his first taste. You were wet, so wet, and perfectly sweet.

Your back arched at his first touch, tongue lapping over your folds. His forearms still over your thighs, pushing them further apart to spread you open.

The sound you made when he repeated the motion, this time seeking out your clit, told him that he was successful in doing so. Your hips jolted slightly at the feeling, breathless whimper escaping your mouth as he paid close attention to the sensitive bit of nerves.

You were certain you felt yourself leaking as Harry experimented with your clit, gently and then roughly pushing the tip of his tongue against it.

“Oh...!” Mouth gaping open when his lips circled around your clit, cheeks hollowing as he lightly sucked. He repeated the motion, tongue lightly flicking over the nub before he pulled it between his mouth.

You lifted your head when his lips retreated from your clit, sucking into the skin of your thigh once again. Unable to take your eyes off the way his cheeks hollowed and his dark eyes remained intent on you as if you would disappear if he looked away.

Tongue licking up to your wet hole, saliva mixing with your arousal as he poked his tongue past your entrance. He had you pushing your hips up against him, nails digging into the skin on his neck while his tongue worked inside of you.

“Oh, God.” It was heavenly.

He worked slowly against you, tongue pushing up against your clit in a way that made your back arch of the mattress as you desperately needed more. “Harry –”

His lips circled around your swollen clit, eliciting a sharp cry at the end of your praise. Fingers pulling tightly in his already messy locks, not caring about the roughness of your actions in the moment. All you could focus on was how you felt completely on fire by the way Harry touched you.

He hummed against your heat, likely muttering something that you couldn’t make out. He sent vibrations all through your body, shooting up your spine and making your mind melt. You knew you were slick, probably embarrassingly so, but the way Harry was burying himself between your thighs left you without a care.

“It’s good?” His hot voice pulled your focus back onto him, glancing down when his tongue licked up your folds again, pushing through on every spot until your legs kicked slightly when he hit your clit. “Feels good?”

He moved his head away, hovering just over you with a lick to his lips. “So good,” you whimpered into the air, craving to feel him on you again. “O-on my clit again –”

You were cut short when his mouth kissed over you again, lips parted until they found their place around your clit, this time sucking harshly as he gaged your reaction.

His arms were still holding your legs parted, fingers gripping tightly into your skin there were sure to be crescent moon shaped nail marks indented into your thighs. His tongue was dancing patterns on your clit, pressure going from light to rough within a matter of seconds.

Listening to every heavy breath, every small gasp, and every light moan that was being pulled from your chest, Harry was memorizing every move he made that you reacted to.

You swore you could feel his lips curve to a smile when his tongue delved back into you, licking along slick skin while his nose nudged your clit. The small movement had you pushing your hips up, his tongue digging into you.

And then he was tugging on your clit again, pulling a deep moan from low in your throat that had him wanting to hear nothing else.

There was a fire in the pit of your stomach, chest heaving as you felt a slow build of your climax. Thighs pressing against his hands as you seemed to be unable to keep them still, completely focused on the way his tongue was quickly working against you.

Clenching around nothing, your back arching as you sought him out. “Need something,” you babbled. “Need more.”

He only muttered against you, not wanting to break contact from your heat for a moment too long. “No hands,” was all he said for a moment, the noise of his mouth wet on your cunt making you lose your mind.

“Know you can do it,” he moaned after a moment, encouraging you as he wanted nothing more than to see you unravel under him.

He worked with skill against you, making it his mission to see you cum for him. He knew he was getting you there, your breathing getting heavier and your grip getting tighter in his hair. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how you would sound when you came.

Getting you close, words starting to babble from your lips, pleads laced with praises and small cries that he could barely decipher spurred him on.

“I’m –” you gasped, eyes squeezing shut at the fire that was about to burn out of your core.

“Go on,” he urged, voice quiet as he didn’t want to take his lips off you for more than a second. Tongue circling around you quickly before licking quick patterns over the sensitive spot of your clit that made you call out his name.

“Oh…!” Mouth hanging open when you came against his mouth, his hands releasing your legs the slightest bit as they tried to squeeze close around his head. Hips jolting up with a rise of your bum, your hands tight in his hair.

The sound of your moans filled his ears, knowing that this was now the best thing he had ever heard. His tongue slowed around you before he pulled his head away and watched in awe at the sight in front of him. Your chest was heavily rising, lips wet and bit darker with your eyes closed shut.

The pleasure coursing through you slowly subsided, daring to peek an eye open at Harry by your thighs. He had a lazy smile etched across his mouth, and you watched his tongue dart out to lick his wet lips. His cheeks flushed red and hair disarray, as you slowly let go of your grip on his head, arms falling to your side.

The sun had set past the building outside, the light that was previously golden orange was now a hazy blue, casting darkened shadows under Harry’s features.

He lifted himself to his knees, stretching his arms out as he kept his eyes on you with a wide grin.

“Is,” you were the first to speak, propping yourself up on your elbows as you fiddled with the hem of your dress, not before noticing the blue and orange paint that was in fact smeared on your thighs. “Is painting always like that?”

A breathless chuckle escaped his parted lips, and he was suddenly hovering over you again. “Painting has never been like that.”

#hi #i really hope everyone enjoyed <333 #please rb and share and let me know what u think !!!! happy reading #cb #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine

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ktheist · 4 years ago

Text

2 | exclusives only.

final installment to the to my dear friend series.

prompt.“don’t confuse your party friends with your real friends.” (x)

muses. jungkook x reader

genre. university au. fwb. f2l.

words. 8.9k

first installment. friend in me.

warnings. implied smut, mentions of name calling

synopsis. the goody-two-shoes. the girl who always sits in one of the front rows in class. that girl that has literal models as friends while she comes to classes in sweats.

you identify with all of these.

but what you don’t ever want to be known as, is that freaky girl who had sex at a semi-public place, in the back room of the student lounge with the most drool-worthy man at the faculty.

and that’s exactly what kim namjoon, your ex-boyfriend, manifested when he publicly announced to everyone from your faculty of your oh-so-sweet time together, “come on, ___, everyone wants to know if you begged me to be your first and how we fucked in the back room of the student lounge.”

the moment jeon jungkook’s name which you have saved as koo, flashes across the screen - time stops. so does your heart as you meet taehyung’s eyes which were just fixed on your phone before you flip it over and press the stickers engraved case with the your hand as though afraid he might be able to see through the aluminum and read the text jungkook sent you.

which is just-

koo: heyy

“um, excuse me,” jisoo, having been more focused on the group you lowly pointed out to be stealing glances your way and unlike you, she’s in the middle of raising her hand with an index finger pointing upwards, deep maroon lips pursed in annoyance as the group begins to whisper amongst them and looking back at your table as though in disbelief that someone would actually call them out, “yes, you guys - especially the girl with the fake channel jacket - ever heard of minding your damn business?”

“jisoo,” you hiss, yanking her hand back down and slamming it against the table, “i don’t care, they can say whatever they-“

“at least have the decency to be original if you wanna shit talk someone,” lisa speaks over you, as though she can’t hear your protest.

“taehyung, stop them,” you lean over the table in a hushed whisper, catching the man’s blank gaze whilst he slurps on his smoothie as though he sees nothing wrong with the whole setting. and it’s definitely not the nasty bruise around his eyes that’s impairing his vision - nor judgement for that matter.

“what?” he chirps, willfully unaware of the tension in the air.

“oh god,” you finally slump into your seat, head lowered in an attempt to let your tresses fall over your face and cover it as you pretend to rub the temple of your head, hoping - wishing a hole would open and up and swallow you right here and now.

hurried footsteps of the group trying to pretend like they’re not in a rush pass behind you. words like, “rude much?”, “ugh, we don’t even care”, “attention whore.” among other things echoing in murmurs into the air before the tranquil blanket of silence settles back over the vicinity.

lisa’s glare of death takes on a much cheerful light as she grins at the older girl as they high five over the table.

“guys, thanks but you didn’t have to do that,” is the first thing you say after you lift your head, a half-hearted smile on your lips, “i don’t really care and quite honestly they have every right to be here as much as we do.”

“sweetie, the fact that you were laughing with us just a minute ago and stopped all of a sudden means you do care,” jisoo says pointedly, deep maroon lips pursed together in a ‘don’t lie to me’ manner and once she sees your lips clamping together and possibly said lie getting swallowed into your throat, she continues, “- and that’s completely valid. they should’ve know to keep their mouths shut if they wanna eat here too.”

“okay, maybe i do care but i can’t stop them from stealing glances or pointing me out to anyone who doesn’t know me or doesn’t know how i look which i’m sure is just meh,” before lisa could interject, you hold up a finger, “i know i can look pretty at times,” you offer an assuring smile before sighing at your next words, “but honestly, at this point, i can literally hear the ‘that’s the girl that tricked namjoon into dating her last year’ everywhere i go and i’m kind of used it.”

“but you didn’t trick him and he started it first,” taehyung doesn’t exactly slam the cup onto the table but he doesn’t gently set it down either and the sound is audible enough the little corner you’ve booked for yourselves.

“does it matter? that’s what word has it around here anyway,” shrugging, you take a spoonful of the vanilla ice cream into your mouth.

“it sucks,” jimin, ever the listener and the one person who’s never put his phone down until now, finally speaks the word of the day - not a particularly profound one but they fit the situation, “but i mean, this’ll all blow over in a month.”

almost as though they share the same wavelength, lisa and jisoo begin grumbling out protests

“ugh, jimin.” lisa narrows her eyes at him, face contorted in disgust while jisoo gasps, wide-eyed, “park jimin, i raised you better than this.”

“what?” the man in question - questions, crescent eyes turning into a pair of full moons, shining with utter confusion as he looks he repeats the same word over an over again with increasing remorse, “no- seriously, what did i say?”

“it’s easy for you,” jeongyeon chirps from next to you, perfect nude acrylics gleaming mutedly as she holds a fry she stole from his plate in the air, “you’re a guy,” and only then she pops the fry into her mouth.

“where did she come from?” a frown etches itself onto taehyung’s face as he stares at the newcomer as though she grew another head.

“unless jeongyeon has witchery powers then my best bet is through the door,” shrugging, you pick up the vapor dotted cup, the sound of ice clicking against each other as you twirl the straw around gets drowned by the series of agreement from the two girls.

“what does that even mean?” with hair mussed from and eyes almost as wide as a mad man in search for the truth - the only thing he’s missing is an overgrown unkept beard - jimin’s raised voice brings you back to the issue at hand, spurred by jeongyeon’s ominously vague prophecy.

“it means,” you set the cup down after sipping on the chocolatey goodness , “guys get worshipped like some sex god when their body counts get exposed and people will be lining up to get laid by him but when it’s a girl who gets her, for once, healthy sex life and keeps to one partner like me gets ‘exposed,’” hands raised, you curl your index and middle fingers inwards in an indicative nature, “let’s just say it doesn’t really help me climb up the social ladder.”

shrugging, you continue, “like yeah, maybe it’ll blow over like you said and our friends probably don’t care - they’re treating me the same but i can see our mutual friends becoming distant even though they don’t show but just this morning i went up to jennie kim was the to ask about the thing we have to do for a group project and i can kinda see it in her eyes. she sees me as that girl who begged kim namjoon to have sex with her, dumped him and got with the next cute guy of the century. and that impression of me is always gonna keep lurking in the back of everyone’s minds whether they do it consciously or not.”

a pause lapses in between you, not quite as profound as jimin’s jaw-drop is making it to be but maybe it is for him. the others continue to munch on their fries and jeongyeon just stole jimin’s drink, opened the cap and took a sip instead of using the straw, murmuring something about not taking any chances because ‘don’t know where his mouth’s been.’

it’s several heartbeats until jimin recovers from the load of information before he lets out an-

“oh.”

“yeah,” lisa nods, shooting him a ‘now you know’ look before turning to you with a pointed expression as though she’s ready to move on to a more pressing topic which was absurd because what else could be more pressing than your mid college term crisis-

“and you should say what you said just now to jungkook instead of ghosting him”

-except the fact that you thought you were subtle enough in flipping your phone’s screen upside down and pretending like you were listening to whatever whoever was speaking.

all of a sudden, the heat of five pairs of eyes are on you. but those who are truly stricken by the news are jimin and jeongyeon, the latter’s gaze being unavoidable because she’s sitting smack dab right next to you, “wait,” a tense pause wedges its way in the miniature space between you and her, “you’re ghosting jeon jungkook?”

“i-i just-“ there’s something in the way her tone rises at his name and the sheer absurdity of it all that makes your heart wrench in guilt and discomfort, “i’m not gonna ghost him for forever-“

“you should though.” taehyung waves a fry in your face before popping it into his mouth.

“-i just need time to like, process everything. i mean, it happened just yesterday,” by the end of your attempt to explain yourself, you can feel your shoulder line falling as you sigh, back leaned against the chair, the fries no longer looking appetizing.

“it’s partly his fault for flaunting out your sex lives to the entire world,” taehyung points out.

“shut it, tae,” jisoo hisses before turning to you, “take all the time you need, sweetie,” she rests her cheek on your shoulder as she side hugs you, probably finally comprehending the level of confusion and frustration all at once that forbids you from texting jungkook back the moment he texted you which was just minutes after the car disappears around the intersection and his figure disappear from sight last night.

the moment jeongyeon stepped through the crowd and stopped next to you with the clack of her boots and the sheer ‘oh honey, you’re not ready for that talk,’ nature, you decided right then and there, if jeongyeon asked you to shave off your hair and hand it over in a tray, you would in a heartbeat.

“since ____ didn’t wanna say anything, i figured she did get you to sleep with her but felt bad about it,” the hand she kept tucked under her arm falls away to reveal the hundred bucks she’s holding in your face.

by then, you had a hunch of what she was planning in that wonderful head of hers but the weight of the tens of pairs of eyes had made you wary. it was jeongyeon’s plan, all you had to do was just run with it, not run it.

wordlessly, you took the folded note, smoothed the cripple out of it as best as you could before folding it in two and tucking it into your bra. the bouts of gasps that broke out was what gave you the push to meet namjoon’s gaze with a blank one and shrug, “what? i went through all the trouble to get you to sleep with me and put up with dating you for six months - i should at least get my pay,” murmurs echo through out the room as well as several ‘ooh’s at the revelation.

the man’s face had turned several shades darker. eyes trained on you like you were all he sees. like a predator to his prey. once upon a time, you might have found the way he was so rapt with something heartfluttering - attractive even as you sat at the bleachers, cheering on your secret boyfriend whilst he instructed his team through the mic. circuit breaker had never came out anything but victorious when kim namjoon was that focused.

if only looks could kill, you’d be dead.

“that’s right, it was just a bet we made in first year,” jeongyeon’s tilted crimson smirk had been tucked with something like wicked humor as her shoulder line jolted with her laughter.

first year, you were that lost kid who bent over backwards to be everyone’s friends and ended with none. namjoon knew that, like how he knew this was all a lie and yet perhaps that was why you could almost picture the brood of clouds looming over his head. the same look that would settle over his face as he shifted through courses of action to take for that one possible outcome that lead to circuit breaker’s victory.

your heartbeat stuttered when he began to stand straighter, arms crossed over muscled chest. his naturally tall stature had allowed him to look down on you like gum under his shoe, “quite pathetic that she had to beg to win a bet.”

the ground opening up and swallowing you whole right then and there had remained but a wishful thinking. the seconds seemed to stretch on for hours on end with gazes burning right through your skull. you could almost hear the ghostly whispers of “oh my god,” “who does she think she is?” “what a slut.”

“wasn’t that like a year ago?” somewhere from your other side, a snicker hit the air like a mockery and a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a familiar scent of lemongrass and musk. how your own arm went around his to side hug his waist had been a surprise to you too, the action was as natural as breathing.

“i mean,” jungkook drawled with a shrug, “kinda sad that you’re still hung up over a girl but i get it - i know how amazing ____ is,” with a slight lean towards the older man, the low murmur couldn’t have been any louder, “we did it on the side of the street once,” a gasp from the ever loyal audience, “the balcony,” another gasp, “under a bridge,” there isn’t any more gasps - the audience must have ran out of responses, “in the changing room,” just when you thought he was going to spell out every single spot you had sex at on the list, jungkook finally laughed, “honestly any place you can think of - but yeah, keep dreaming about the back room of the student lounge cause that’s probably the most adventurous a dude like you would ever be.”

the shock painted over jimin’s jaw drop, jisoo’s eyes glancing from left to right, jeongyeon’s pursed lips and muted whistle didn’t exactly go past you. but you were more focused on the way the man in front of you, the one you thought you gave everything to, was the one speechless between the two of you.

the smile you wore was a lazy one but the words you threw back at him didn’t bloom in your chest with satisfaction of retribution the way you thought they would, “get over it, namjoon.”

in hindsight, you should’ve known it would come back and bite your ass. but you didn’t think the reaction would be this immediate. by monday morning, you were already getting strange looks and one not-so-pleasant experience of hearing snide laughter as you passed a group of students with the faintest but clearest, “what a whore.”

by noon, your reputation was pretty much set in stones - though your closest friend circle tried to convince you that it wasn’t as bad as it seems. that was, until another group of students walked into the cafe and most of them kept glancing at you like you’re some wild animal in a zoo.

“oh!” you could almost see a light bulb going off on jeongyeon’s head - as though a thought just crossed her, “i forgot what i came here for but anyway, i got tea!”

“girl,” lisa raises her brows with an obvious ‘what-are-you-waiting-for’ smile, “spill.”

and from the way way everyone else is quiet but focused on the woman, including you, it’s safe to say lisa’s words spoke for all of you. knowing that she holds the sole attention of the people at the table, jeongyeon smirks playfully, “guess what?”

“what?” taehyung says plainly.

“you’re supposed to guess, idiot,” she rolls her eyes but recovers from the brunette’s lack of effort as she basically bounces in her seat like a ball of excitement, “kim namjoon got kicked out of circuit breaker! the dean himself had a ‘little word’ with him. just. now.”

it would have come off as a pleasant news - cheer-worthy even. if not for one simple fact: that the dean is none other than jimin’s mother.

“oh my fucking god, yes!” lisa yelps, while jisoo extends her arms across the aforementioned woman to reach for the giggling man on her other side, “come here, let me hug you park jimin!” since it’s a round table, it makes the notion of hugs more plausible but since lisa is sitting between them, she ends up sandwiched with jisoo’s arms around her and jimin leaning into her in order to let the rest of jisoo’s arms encase around his neck.

“to be fair, he got kicked out because he and tae got in a fight,” the bleach blond man chuckles, “so tae’s punishment is being professor yoon’s unpaid assistant.” the position doesn’t seem ideal but the three doesn’t seem to mind - they look like they enjoy it.

“it was worth it,” taehyung shrugs when he catches your eyes, knowing full well the wave of guilt that rushes through you so instead, you mouth him a ‘i owe you one.’

by the time lunch ends (for you and jimin at least since the others seem to have another free hour before their classes start), you find yourself taking up jimin’s offer to sit with him at the back instead of the fifth row from the front that was just perfect for a not-so-serious-but-not-so-laxed-student vibe.

“hey, jimin - thanks,” you say in between the class filling up and him texting someone on his phone which he puts down on the table after your words of gratitude fill the air, “for talking to your mom for me.”

“that’s the least i can do,” he fixes you with a half-hearted smile - probably wishing he’d be able to throw a punch where it was needed but you know park jimin wouldn’t be park jimin if he wasn’t this adorable, good natured person with the kindest heart that could barely hurt a fly let alone a person. even if that person is a douchebag like namjoon, “‘sides, mom’s always preaching about equality for both genders and kim basically sexually harassed you, i’m sorry i couldn’t stand up for you like tae-“

“no, don’t say that,” you frown, hands tugging on his biceps. slipping your around the aforementioned biceps, you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the rising tension of your pursed lips, “everyone has their own friendship language - and finding a peaceful way to get back to someone who hurt your friend, is yours. so thank you for being you,” you pause just for the briefest moment when you accidentally meet the eyes of one of your friends - the flash in their eyes projecting their not-so-friendly thoughts at the sight of you, “thanks for being my friend, jimin.”

something soft bumps the top of your head as you feel his neck crane briefly, “thanks for being my friend too- jisoo would beat your ass for saying this though.”

at the mention of the spirited friend of yours, you both break out into fits of giggles. “jisoo would probably buy chicken tie my to a chair while dangling a drumstick until i promise to stop saying ‘weird things.’”

by ‘weird things’ it meant thanking them or even projecting any form of gratitude which shouldn’t even be a thing to be grateful for because, as she would aggressively yet lovingly insist, and as jimin acts out, “she’d probably be ‘it’s obvious we’d be friends because you’re the baddest bitch - girl, you’re that bitch.’”

it’s even funnier when he tries to mimic her way of speech and tone. for a moment, as you continue to narrate what your two other best friends would have done in the setting, both of you laughing into each other’s faces, the watchful eyes don’t seem all that intimidating.

throughout the evening, you spend it with your friends. watching movies and sleeping over at jimin’s - since he’s the only one who owns an apartment and doesn’t have a cranky roommate, going to class with yesterday’s jeans and jimin’s stolen hoodies to which he looked slightly perturbed at the realization that that’s three hoodies he probably wouldn’t get back even though you promised to wash it and give it back. but he the matter seems to fly out the window once you stopped by mcdonald’s for breakfast.

you may or may not have neglected pending projects group work but your friends didn’t seem to care -jisoo and jimin were rushing to group meetings this morning but after lisa’s five minute therapy-esque session for you to stop apologizing for inconveniencing them when you thought they must have (they did) pushed back on a lot of plans just to spend time with you and make sure you’re okay, you’d finally turned the ‘sorry’s to ‘thank you’s.

it was some time when you were walking to a class you shared with taehyung, that his looming frame easily catches what exactly you’re doing on your phone and begrudgingly points out, “ugh, you’re still texting him? after promising you’ll choose yourself first?”

to be fair, it was a short and sweet text saying ‘hey, i’m fine. sorry i didn’t reply to your texts, just have a lot going on atm’ without any emojis but also no period at the end because you didn’t want to seem like you’re mad. but besides that, you’re not entirely sure what exactly you feel for jungkook because like taehyung said-

“he‘s a different kind of asshole,” his tone was light but if there’s anything a whole year of knowing kim taehyung did, it was catching onto the way his voice strains and his avoidance to look at you as he speaks, “does he even know what he did to you? what you’re going through right now?”

it was true that the after effect of jungkook listing out the places you both had sex at has finally come to bite you in the ass. but-

“nobody would’ve thought the things jungkook said would backfire like this,” and yet you tug on the sleeves of jimin’s hoodie, voice small.

the man’s abrupt stop forces you to stop too, leaving you no choice but to meet his frowning face, “everyone knows what stuff like that’ll do more to girls than guys.”

it’s the pause that you took. the hesitance that taehyung must’ve seen shining brighter than your reputation allows it.

“you know what- do whatever you want,” and with that he leaves you on the side of the corridor to stare at his broad back as he walks away.

there’s no way you’ll go up and sit with him at the back like you did with jimin. but it wasn’t the empty spots next to you that made your heart clench - it was the way he deliberately turned away from you when your eyes met as you entered and he took a seat.

it’s some time after the professor left the class, whilst your phone vibrates rapidly with onslaught of messages, do you finally pick it up with one goal in mind.

koo: oh okay

koo: hope you’re doing okay

koo: i’m here if you wanna talk

he hasn’t finished typing when you tap out a simple ‘sorry’ and switching to-

you: thank you really but i think it’s better if we don’t text anymore

only to see another blue bubble pop on the screen at the same time as yours.

koo: i miss you

by the end of the very, very, very long day, you’re finally able to throw yourself onto your soft plush bedsheets. your friends don’t know that taehyung’s mad at you and isn’t talking to you - his sporadic off-days being the reason for them to assume that this is one of those days.

and they didn’t really push you to talk either, choosing to give you space after they robbed you off yours by kidnapping you to have a best friend’s night last night.

much to your dismay, not even five minutes into melting into the comforts of your bed, your stomach starts growling like a wild animal that hasn’t been fed in weeks. despite distantly remembering finishing the last pack of ramen last week, you still drag your feet to the kitchen in search for a instant noodles that, after opening the cupboard, you confirm, isn’t there.

and that’s how you end up trudging down the streets with flip flops and hair poking underneath the hood of jimin’s hoodie. a surge of gratification shoots through your veins when you see the last cup of your favorite spicy ramen on the shelf. not bothering to go back, you take a seat at one of the high stools facing the wall-sized window after paying for it.

it takes a few texts and scrolling through instagram before the ramen is ready. but it’s jeongyeon’s panic-induced tone that takes up most of your time.

jeongyeon: ok so ik you’re gonna be mad at me but pls don’t be

you: what issit tho

jeongyeon: you gotta promise 🤙

with a growl of your stomach demanding to be fed, you place your phone down with a misspelled loophole ‘yea i pro mizz 🤙🤙🤙’

and if getting a certification as your faculty’s resident hoe isn’t enough, in that moment, with ramen dangling from your mouth and puffed cheek, your eyes stops on a brunette boy who stops dead in his track when he sees you.

somewhere on the smooth surface of the table, your phone vibrates with a pop up notification.

jeongyeon: ok so jeon jungkook texted me about you and i kinda told him he should ask you himself but then i thought it kinda indicated that something’s wrong

another ping.

jeongyeon: i didn’t tell him anything else tho!!!

“i don’t know what to say - i’m sorry, didn’t think it would be this bad,” jungkook confesses, head hung low, hair hiding most of his face and disallowing you from reading his emotions.

after jeongyeon ominously told jungkook to ask you about why she can’t tell him anything about how you’re doing now, jungkook had rushed to your place because it was obvious that his texts would be left on read, “maybe i should’ve taken it for what it is but i-,” he’d stopped short of what he wanted to say before he’d met your gaze with wishing stars in his eyes, “i just needed to see you and make sure you’re okay.”

“it’s not,” you admit, “most of the time they just look at me like i’m some animal in the zoo but sometimes it still gets to me.”

“you didn’t seem like the person who would care,” he says smally, almost as though it wasn’t meant for you but for himself.

you want to laugh, “that’s cause that’s what half-drunk me is most of the time and you’ve only ever known her - but on campus, i’m that girl who walks in the hallway with her head down and wanna be as invisible as i can... because i hate conflicts and being seen means i’ll most likely get into some shit... like i did with namjoon.”

kim namjoon saw you when no one else paid attention. mostly because the outstanding ones in your batch were taking the spotlight in freshmen year. the positions became apparent a little over two weeks after the first class. and you were still wondering around, in search for like minded beings. instead of finding friends, you found a god.

or so what they call a once in a lifetime genius.

“yea- i don’t really know you,” if it isn’t for the way his head snaps your way and the heartbreaking strain in his voice, you would have had a better time holding out, “i don’t even know what your favorite color is but i promise i’ll never hurt you like he did,” when he meets your gaze, all control seem to seep out of you and all you want is to take everything back

“i’m sorry- i just- it’s stupid, cutting you off just ’cause of that-“ the sound chains of the swing echo into the chilly night air as you prop your elbows on your knee, torso bent forward while you cup your face with your hands, maybe if you rubbed hard enough the stupid will come off, “i know it’s nobody’s fault but then there’s tae and he was the only one who thought i should stop talking to you- but he’s also the most reasonable person in our friend group and i-“ you almost choke on pure air, “i’m sorry.”

and so you end up at a park a few blocks away, you choosing to sit on the swing whilst he leans against the monkey bar a few feet away.

“it’s not okay,” jungkook’s voice fills your ears - he doesn’t sound as mad as you thought he’d be but his words say otherwise.

until you hear the scrape of soles on dirt. and just as you thought he was leaving, a hand lands on your knee, “but i forgive you.”

the smile you see when you peek through your fingers is familiar. boyish like its owner but endearing all the same,“and nothing that makes you feel like your peace is disturbed, is stupid,” but then the smile down turns into a frown, eyebrows knitting together, “i just wish you told me so you didn’t have to go through this alone.”

“i wasn’t alone - i had my friends,” it’s right after the words hit the air and a flash of disappointment crosses jungkook’s eyes, do you belatedly realize that you were indirectly calling him a non-friend.

“right,” the smile he fixes you breaks your heart - even more so when you see how he’s struggling to be happy for you whilst pushing down the hurt in his eyes, “that’s great - it’s great that you weren’t alone.”

or someone outside of your exclusives-only circle. well, he was - he isn’t exactly someone you’d befriend like you would your current friends. but it must have sounded like he was demoted to a friend who you say hi’s to and don’t share personal hardships and happiness with.

“yeah,” you echo in agreement before biting your bottom lip, gaze switching from his hand to his arm and finally his deep brown eyes that appear hazel underneath the light of the lamppost, “can we still be friends?”

the short but straightforward, “no�� on jungkook’s part echoes in the air.

it takes a moment for you to register the two-letter word, as if it’s the hardest to fathom and before you know it, your jaw is on the ground, after a surprised, “what-”

in all honesty, you were the one who wanted to cut jungkook off from your life - for an absurd reason at that - but still, with how he patiently listened to you and even forgave you, you thought he’d at least want to stay friends. maybe he doesn’t want to be that kind of friend anymore. or maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend if you’re not that kind of friends anymore. maybe-

“i don’t wanna be just friends,” the confession falls out from his lips when you least expect it. almost as though you weren’t the only one who could read the other like an open book.

but despite his confidence the first time, you still see the traces of hesitance in the way he takes a moment longer to continue, “i... i want to know you- not the drunk you, not the campus you, but you you.”

this time, you can’t control the trickle of laughter that tumbles out of your mouth. it’s dry and a little bit broken, but still comes from a humorous place, “you’re probably gonna be disappointed as hell.”

“is that a yes?” the flash of starlight in jungkook’s eyesmile causes your heart to swell with a sort of fullness. the chains clink into the air as he grips it with his hands, using them to hoist himself up - but he doesn’t stand straight. instead,he leans his forehead on yours, “say yes.”

the smile that slips on your face is involuntary. completely out of your control as you affirm, “it’s a yes.”

“so is that tae’s hoodie?” jungkook asks as you walk down the street to your apartment.

the “what?” that slips out of your mouth is more surprised than anything else but it seems like that’s what made the man rush out his explanation - which he didn’t really need to but you appreciate it anyway.

“it’s just- you’re not a hoodie girl,” you don’t miss the way he scrunches his nose as he struggles to find the proper words, you think it’s cute - you think jungkook’s cute, “you’re more like a sweaters girl - or like, that’s what i see you wear in the morning before you kick me out.”

chuckling, you relieve him of his curiosity with a “no, it’s not tae’s.”

he beams at you like a morning sun until you add, “it’s jimin’s.”

“o-oh,” he nods but doesn’t press on.

“he’s also one of my best friend - they dragged me to movie’s night and we crashed at jimin’s last night,” you say.

“oh.” the pearly whites peek from underneath his lips again, eyes lighting up like stars.

but then, before you know it, you’re standing at the entrance of your apartment.

“thanks for walking me home,” on your part, you don’t really want to part.

“yeah, no problem,” if you didn’t know any better, jungkook’s foot scuffling against the dirt doesn’t really give off a willing farewell vibe either.

until you both blurt out at the same time-

“do you wanna come in?”

“i mean it when i said i missed you.”

an echoing silence settles between you for the longest moment - or in fact, just a second too long but with all that’s happened and the friendships you can see breaking, jeon jungkook’s is one you’re not going to let go that easily.

not again.

“come inside,” you say.

and this time, you’re not asking.

jungkook’s breath is hot against your neck as you groan from the impact of your back and head hitting the door as soon as it closes, his hands under your thighs.

but you’re fast to recover, hands snaking up his chest until they reach his strained jawline, tilting his head and forcing him to look at you, “show me how much you missed me.”

a familiar glint flashes across his eyes at your challenge before his gaze falls to the borrowed deep blue hoodie you have on, “take that off. now.”

deciding against taunting him some more, you pull the piece of clothing over your head before dropping it next to the can of beer, snacks and energy bars you bought from the convenience store.

it doesn’t take much for you to lean into him enough not to let yourself topple over backwards - maybe it’s the hundreds of times he’s carried you like this, maybe he’s the only person you trust to grab you by the bottom of your ass and you’d instantly know where to wrap your legs around.

or maybe, just maybe, you missed jungkook too.

but either way, you kiss him once after he slams you against your bed. you kiss him a few more times as he slides in and out of you like every crevice of your core is made for him. you’re in the middle of kissing him when he hits ghat sweet spot that gets you moaning mid-kiss. he doesn’t seem to mind as he bites your bottom lips, letting you ride your high whilst he dedicates himself to you. to your pleasure.

and you kiss him when he thrusts deep into you as you both reach a different kind of euphoria together, holding each other tightly as if the other would fade if you didn’t.

since your bed is a single bed and you were occupying most of it, you have to scoot to make space for an extra person. you let him have the pillow while you keep your head raised midair until he slips his arm under it, his other hand pulling your back against his front before he pulls the cover over you.

the digits in the corner of your phone tells you that you’re probably going to end up rushing to your 8 am tomorrow but at the moment, with the moonlight pouring through the window and a distant sound of cars in the main street filling the room, there’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here.

“it’s orange - my favorite color is orange, like the sunset,” you’re pretty sure your voice is half-slurred from the fatigue of the day creeping up to you, but jungkook surprisingly heard it right because-

“we should go sunset watching someday,” he suggests.

“mhm,” you hum, not opposed of that idea at all, “what’s your...” you drag out, shifting through words until you find the one you’re most curious about, “favorite dessert?”

“besides you?” he chuckles when you let out an involuntary gasp at his insinuation before humming in contemplation, “ice creams.”

“are you free this sunday?” you ask.

“yeah, why?” his voice is laced with a hint of wonder.

“let’s go to an ice cream parlor,” by now, you’re pretty sure he barely understands what you’re saying as your eyes begin to droop, “let’s do things people do outside of parties - i wanna get to know you, koo.”

for the longest moment, you thought it’s him that’s fallen asleep because of the lack of affirmation.

that is, until he murmurs with the smallest voice, “yeah, i’d like that.”

you wake up to the sound of your daily alarm blaring across the room. but much to your dismay, when you slip your hand under the pillow - which unnaturally becomes a texture of spiky but fluffy treads - you come to a morbid realization that isn’t there.

which means wherever your gosh darn phone is, you’re going to have to find it to hit the snooze button because you can’t sleep with that deafening noise but if you do get up, you won’t be able to fall back asleep.

that is, until a different kind of sound, one that knows your name, grumble out a, “___, turn that shit off,” while a hand band around your waist, pulling you into a whole body.

for the briefest moment, you forget about the sound, heart skipping a dangerous beat as your mind shift through your memories, searching for something you can use for a self defense before it finally settles down with a realization that the only other person who could be complaining about your alarm because they were in bed with you, is jeon jungkook.

“god damn it,” you grumble with eyes barely open and mind half-awake while you pick up each article of clothing that are strewn across the room, “where did you throw my phone, jungkook?”

the man in your bed slurs out some incomprehensible words, leaving you with nothing but your wits and your wills and a little bit of urgency because your roommate may not be home most of the time but she definitely is in the morning. her schedule is more unpredictable than yours.

after a good one minute, you finally found your phone not on the floor but under the sheets right next to jungkook’s thigh. considering you spent a good chunk of your remaining sleepiness looking for it, you’re now out of the sleep essence and wide awake.

it looks like you caused quite a stir. jeongyeon’s text alone amounts to 36 notifs while each of your friend private messaged you an average of 5-12 texts each. the lowest being jimin and lisa who teetered on the line of ‘hey jeongyeon told me’s and ‘text me when you see this’ while jisoo’s are full out capsing and taehyung is a mixture of jimin and lisa with a missed call.

but what you don’t expect to see among the pile of notification, is the one pushed to the bottom by your friends’.

“oh, wow, kim namjoon texted me,” you blurt out, not knowing that a slip of tongue would cause a burst of reaction from the sleeping male in your bed.

shooting up with the sheets still covering his head, he yanks them down and fixes you with a wide-eyed, disbelieving gaze, “kim namjoon what now?”

it takes you a moment to digest the fact that he couldn’t even form a proper sentence or even grope around on the bed to help you look for your phone yet a single name and a verb could literally shock the sleep out of him. but you’re not one to hold onto grudges so you casually say, “he texted me.”

when you don’t offer anything else, the man finally asks, “well... what did he say?”

“’hey,’“ you echo the one worded text before slinging your towel over your shoulder.

“and?” hurried steps follow you into the hallway, an awkward ‘don’t-look-pressed’ laugh accompanying them, “...what did you say?”

“why?” you turn around abruptly, almost causing your follower to run right into you before he quickly halts himself, eyes slanting to the wall as he scratches his unclothed chest.

“i- uh, i don’t know - just curious i guess,” he mumbles out.

at that, the chuckles you’ve been holding back spills out of your mouth like waterfall. he opens his arms for you when you slip yours around his waist, locking your hands on his back, “i didn’t reply but if i did, it’s probably to tell him to stop texting me.”

the heartwarming ‘oh’ that tumbles out of his mouth is followed by a tuck in the corners of his lips, doe eyes filling with a sort of heat that makes your heart skip a beat.

that is, until fear flashes across his face, “wait, what time is it? don’t you have 8 am’s on tuesdays? i should leave-”

“nah,” you shake your head, a smile making home on your lips, “i’m skipping. you wanna get breakfast at mcdonald’s?”

instead of an affirmation, jungkook’s panicked face turns to a frown, hands coming to cup your cheeks as he twists it from left to right, as though looking for something and you know why-

“who are you and what have you done to sober ___?” he demands.

laughter trickles out of your mouth as you struggle to get out of his grasp while he demands you return you back, “___ would drag my ass to the door at ass crack o’clock when she has 8 am’s. bring her back!”

but in your fit of giggles and his exorcist-esque shouting, jungkook stops and pecks you on your mouth, “just kidding,” you don’t think you can ever get used to that boyish smile of his, “i would love to have our first sober date at mcdonald’s.”

as if a giggle switch has been switched on, you laugh some more, cheeks hurting and tears pooling in the corner of your eyes at the way he makes it sound like you’re asking him to a date.

and you’re not quite against that idea.

so you find yourself at the mcdonald’s five minutes away from your campus. if you have any fucks at all to give, you would be worried about meeting your casual friends. but something about jeon jungkook and your friends’ - your real friends - endless support from yesterday has turned you into a woman of steel. or, really, just mixed party-you and sober-you together.

“apparently he wants to get back together because he thinks it’ll help fix everything but i know he just wants to save his ass - oh, did you know the dean, jimin’s mom, kicked him out of circuit breaker?” you casually say before chugging on your coffee before the sound of someone choking a whole lung drums in your ears.

turning to you with flushed cheeks and post-lung cough, jungkook demands, “you can’t just dump things like this on me- you gotta give me a warning first.”

“i did,” you counter, and just as his face spells ‘when?’ you quickly add, “at home - when i said kim namjoon texted me.”

“babe, that was 30 minutes ago,” jungkook says, in a matter-of-factly.

but all you hear is the name he calls you, “i kinda like that.”

he smiles shyly but still say, “what? babe?”

“yes,” you place your phone on the table, forgetting the open text as you lean closer to jungkook before enunciating the word “babe?”

his hand finds its way to your chin while yours slip underneath his shirt as he guides your face to his lips. but just before you’re about to kiss, the sound of voices - familiar ones at that - pour into the otherwise quiet vicinity. drawn by your curiosity, you tilt your head just the slightest bit to peak at the newcomers when you feel the heat of pairs of eyes burn into your head.

“shit,” you blurt out.

“oh my god,” jisoo gasps while lisa lets out a muted whistle, murmuring a “whew, chile, the audacity of some men.”

jeongyeon snickers as she leans away from lisa who’s holding your phone with namjoon’s text open, “i know what’s going on,” she waves a hand gun at you, “you’re doing great now and he’s sad and lonely-”

“or he wants to show the dean you guys made up so he can get into circuit breaker again,” taehyung chimes in, leaning against the chair, volunteering to pick up everyone’s order from the counter, “you know, just a thought.”

“no, no, no,” lisa interjects, “it’s more than just that with these men - he wants you to think that he’s the only one that can... ‘save’ you.”

“from what?” jimin asks, innocent round eyes looking around until jisoo sighs.

“god, jimin, it’s obvious,” she fixes him a pointed look, “___’s being labelled a manipulating bitch,” she turns to you and winks, “which you aren’t, manipulating - mean but a bitch? yes, and the baddest,” and then she shifts her attention to jimin, “and he’s saying if she gets back with him, he’ll ‘clear things up’ because apparently people tend to take men’s words more seriously than women and he knows that.”

“word,” lisa shakes her head.

“but ___’s not gonna get with namjoon because she has a jungkook,” jeongyeon’s proclamation isn’t entirely baseless yet the way all eyes turns to you tells you that it’s not exactly an established fact - especially when everyone at the table knows that you were ghosting jungkook just yesterday.

“i mean,” jungkook begins from next to you, fidgeting in his seat but avoiding your gaze when you turn to him, “___ can do whatever she wants.”

a pregnant silence lapses between you as you feel your friends exchanging dubious looks with each other. taehyung’s disapproving frown is the hardest to miss because it must have come across as jungkook not being serious enough with you.

but knowing the aforementioned man and how he never assumes your needs and wants - unless you’re having sex because he knows exactly how you like it - you know he doesn’t want to pressure you to be with him.

“i’m not getting with namjoon,” you announce for yourself, shooting the him a smile just before taehyung leaves to get your food.

“i’ll go help tae,” and with that, you skip over to the taller man, catching onto jisoo’s interrogative “so, are you guys like, exclusive now?”

“hey,” you greet the man that’s about to lift the tray of cheeseburgers, drinks, apple pies and mcflurries.

he echoes your greeting with a passive one and you both walk to the chili counter in silence. when he sets the tray down, you’re already picking up one of the tiny paper cups, “so, jungkook came and check up on me yesterday and stayed over to make sure i’m okay.”

he doesn’t need to know you had sex in between.

“he’s a really good guy - and he only said what he said just now cause he doesn’t want me to feel pressured to choose between being with him, or with namjoon or just being single,” you add when it doesn’t seem like he doesn’t have anything to say.

“i’m sorry for acting like a dick yesterday,” he finally breaks his silence with a one breathed sentence, his hand picking up the chili sauce filled cup off your hands.

and that’s when you see your opening, “it’s fine,” you quickly accept but stand your ground, “but jeongyeon also said something about a bet but you didn’t criticize her- i’m not trying to point out who did what worse but it looks like you’re more critical of jungkook because you don’t personally know him.”

“i thought i know a fuck boy when i see one,” he grunts like a sulking child.

“honestly, what does fuck boy even mean?” shrugging, you raised your brows at his okay-get-to-the-point look, “jimin’s kind of a fuck boy if you think about it but we love anyway.”

when he doesn’t seem to deny your allegations, you continue, “and if jungkook’s a fuck boy, then i’m a fuck girl because i-“

“uh,” he recoils like a teen getting sat down for the birds and bees talk,“okay, okay. i get it - spare me the details.”

rolling your eyes at his dramatic reaction, you end with a “see, name calling doesn’t make sense, not to mention hurtful to the person being called that name. they’re a a human being with feelings.”

it’s the ‘i know’ at the end that got him. even though he hadn’t seen you being taunted and ridiculed that day, didn’t mean it stopped. you were just good at masking it because you knew better. knew that you had friends that would stand by you all the way - heck, jisoo even made a scene out of people looking at you the day before.

“i’ll try to not be so judgy,” taehyung announces before scrunching up his face, “but is him hanging out with us gonna be a permanent thing?”

“thank you for trying,” you fix him a proud smile as he picks up the tray to head to where the others are, “and he’s my friend too so yes, it’s going to be a permanent thing.”

“... say ‘cactus jack sent me’?” jeongyeon is in the middle of putting jimin up to walking over to the counter and saying the infamous line to the worker when you slip back into your seat.

“and travis scott’s burger,” and apparently lisa too.

jimin’s eyes disappear behind his lids as he chuckles at their attempts but he doesn’t exactly oppose the idea.

“hey,” jungkook’s eyes lights up when he sees you.

“so how was the interrogation session my girl friends?” you can’t help the devious grin that slips onto your face at the admittance that you may or may have not purposely left jungkook with your friends for the ice breaking slash interrogating session whilst you patch up your own friendship with your other friend.

“not bad,” he shrugs, “they even showed me your sleeping pics to scare me off but they forgot i wake up to that face almost every few days a week.”

at that revelation, your jaw drops to the ground, mind recalling the many times your open-mouth sleeping pictures have been sent into the group chat as a meme and it was not pretty.

“they did not,” your cheeks heat up as you make a mental note to gather everyone up and force them to finally delete that picture.

“don’t worry you’re not getting rid of me that easily babe,” unaware of the extent of the war raging inside you, he pecks your forehead and continues eating his fries.

“do i really look like that when i sleep?” you finally ask after clicking on the safety belt.

even though you could have rode with your friend in jimin’s car, jungkook insists to send you to class as a proper mark for the end of your first date.

“mhm,” jungkook hums casually as he turns on the car.

“and you still like me?” you’re not sure what kind of face you’re making but it has to be something between disgust and bewilderment because damn, he’s a real one.

“what?” he says between chuckles - as if he doesn’t see anything wrong with the picture and it makes your heart bloom with a sort of endearment while your core heats up with a sort of want.

throwing him a sly smile, you cock your head to the side, “get in the back.”

with a mixture of surprised and impressed blink, he doesn’t need to be told twice to unbuckle his seat and climb over to the back seat. long legs spread out to welcome you into his lap.

taglist: @gukksluv @illwritetomorrow

shout out to my biggest bestest friend in me-loving baddest b @koochiekoo !!! highkey without you, i probably would take longer to finish but you’ve been super supportive and i love you so this fic is for you neinya!!!

note. the first part (friend in me) wasn’t showing up on searches no matter how many times i posted it and my earliest readers would remember it being called ‘to my dear friend’ before i changed it to fim bc i wanted to see if it’ll show up on searches but it didn’t. idk if this one will but i dont have much hope bc the preview also didn’t show up on searches (weird) but i have lost the rest of the f’s i have and decided to post this with a mindset that it’ll reach the right people though probably be less than 50 ppl. but i hope those who came this far enjoyed the fic!

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #fic: friend in me #fic: to my dear friend

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thenamesseven · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing: Jongho x reader

Genre: Romance, angst, jail au!

Warnings: Angst, a lot of angst and mentions of blood.

Word count: 4.3

A/N: IM FINALLY BAAAACK! My internship is over and I finally had the time to finish writing this chapter! Sorry for taking so long, I promise I’ll be around for more often now! ^^ Enjoy this chapter!

<- Previous Chapter Masterlist Next chapter ->

Blood.

When Wooyoung opened the infirmary door and watched the scene in front of him, his surroundings started spinning around at a fast pace. The male gripped the door handle tightly, breathing shortening to avoid smelling the metallic scent that filled up the room.

There was blood everywhere on the floor. It would be impossible to get to him without stepping into the sticky bloody puddles that were forming around his body.

Wooyoung had seen all kinds of things while working in a jail. Fights, attempts of murder, suicides, death wasn't a stranger for him. This time however, there was something different about the situation he just encountered. The one laying on the floor might be a criminal, Mingi's hands were stained with blood, with theft but under all that, behind all the things he did, a good person hid. Wooyoung knew Mingi wasn’t bad, life just brought him to this place but he would have surely made better choices in his life if he had the chance to in the past.

Time slowed down when reached for his walkie-talkie, panick was blocking all of his senses like he couldn't even hear himself as he called for help and medical assistance. Wooyoung rushed to the inmate's side, almost falling down onto the floor when his shoes stepped on the blood that surrounded Mingi's body, the red liquid made the surface slippery and Wooyoung would have to be careful if he didn't want to make the situation even worse by hurting himself too.

"Mingi?" His voice was rushed, tense and shook with hesitance as he reached out to shake his body "Mingi'' Wooyoung's voice turned stern, trying to see if a stricter voice would bring him back to consciousness. "Mingi'' He tried again, kneeling down onto the floor, staining his uniform pants with blood as he reached out to gently slap his face.

He needed a reaction. Anything.

Desperate to get any sign of life from him, Wooyoung's eyes scanned the inmate's body, quickly finding where the open wound that was covered by blood and stained clothes was. It was near his stomach, more on the side, the amount of blood looked bad but he knew Mingi would survive if the knife hadn't touched any vital organs. His hands flew to the wound, pressing as hard as he could in order to stop the bleeding.

Mingi groaned loudly in response, probably in pain due to the sudden pressure on his side and Wooyoung felt as if the heaviest weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

There was still some life in him, everything wasn’t lost yet.

Despite Mingi not enjoying the sensation of Wooyoung’s hands pressuring his side, the male kept doing it as hard as he could, ignoring the awful sensation of his hands becoming wet and sticky with another man’s blood. He was not good at this, if it hadn’t been a life or death situation he would have probably passed out already, Wooyoung was never a fan of blood.

“Mingi stay with me” He muttered looking down at the inmate, watching how the slightly older male struggled to keep his eyes open, his vision becoming blurry as he didn’t even know who was the one hurting him “Don’t fall asleep alright? You have to stay awake”

“Jaehyun…” He whispered, ignoring everything Wooyoung was saying. If he was going to die the last thing he was going to do was drag that fucker down with him. He probably wouldn’t pay the consequences, Jaehyun had made sure to get along with the high ranks of this jail but he would try at least, he just had to.

“I know it was Jaehyun, I know” Wooyoung looked at the door when more guards stumbled inside, instantly stopping as soon as they saw the scene in front of their eyes. One of them ran out and the sound of his gagging as he threw out echoed in the busy hall loud enough for the people in the infirmary to hear.

“Mingi” Wooyoung gently slapped his face when he saw him closing his eyes, his body temperature was unbelievably low and his muscles were too relaxed for Wooyoung’s liking “Mingi stay awake, the ambulance is coming”

“Jongho…”

Wooyoung shook his head, motioning for Mingi to shut up and save his energy in order to stay conscious “He’ll visit you later, stay with me Mingi, safe your strength”

“Take care of him” He insisted, not listening to Wooyoung “Don’t let him get in trouble, no matter how stubborn he is”

“Mingi-”

“I know you don’t hate him that much” The smile of Mingi’s face caught Wooyoung so off guard, that he opened and closed his mouth like a breathless fish, not knowing what to do or say to his most recent words “I know you’ll help him, I know you’ll get him out”

After saying those words, Mingi lost consciousness. Wooyoung knew it because his eyes closed and his muscles relaxed so much that Wooyoung started panicking. “Mingi” Wooyoung repeated his name, gently shaking him in order to wake him up “Mingi?” His tone, more urgent than before, alarmed the cops outside that were waiting for the ambulance and paramedics to arrive “Mingi!”

But Mingi couldn’t hear him anymore.

Hospitals are commonly disliked by people. It was a word that brings bad memories to people, a synonym for death and illness which is why most humans try to avoid this place. This is totally understandable though, you don’t come to a hospital to have some fun. Sure sometimes happiness filled the rooms due to recovery or births but that feeling usually got drowned by the sadness and desperation that filled the rest of the patients around.

You’ve always wanted to work in a hospital though, the idea of taking care of people, watching them recover and helping them through their illness always got your attention. You’ve been the kind of person that put others before yourself, Jongho usually scolded you about this but it was your nature, you just couldn’t help it.

Today was different though.

Today you hated this place as much as a normal human being did.

You rushed out of the taxi that drove you here from your apartment as soon as the driver stopped in front of the entrance. Placing some money -that would surely be more than enough- into his hand, you grabbed your purse and closed the door, half walking, half running to your destination. Pushing the double doors open, a wave of sickness and nausea hit you hard as soon as the characteristic smell of antiseptic mixed with medicine filled your nose, you ignored it though, as well as the serious yet worried glance the woman at the front desk threw your way. The brightness that only became stronger by the white walls and floor surrounding you made your head spin but you somehow managed to keep walking forward, taking step after step closer to where Wooyoung had told you they were waiting.

All kinds of thoughts ran through your mind.

You should have been there with him, you should have been there to stop it cause Jaehyun wouldn’t have acted the way he did if you had been there with Mingi, you shouldn’t have left him alone, this would have never happened if you had been there instead of hiding at home like a coward. Blaming yourself wasn’t new, you’ve always had a tendency of being a bit too hard on yourself when something happened, Jongho knew this better than everybody but this time he wasn’t around to silence the mean voice that whispered in your ear, that haunted your mind.

Standing there in the waiting room were Wooyoung along with Hongjoong, Yunho and San, who sat nearby the doors that led into the different operating rooms. You were the only ones there though, hopefully Mingi was getting as much help as the doctors could provide right now. Wooyoung stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed on his chest, tension evident in his body. He was still covered in blood and the sight of him made you gasp so loud that they all turned their heads towards you curiously, worried. Pain and distress obvious in their features.

This is all your fault.

“(Y/N)”

Before you could say something, Wooyoung opened his arms and welcomed you into them, wrapping them around your fragile body gently and comfortably, soothing the pain and heaviness in your chest for a few seconds. The blood was dried in his uniform so it didn’t stain your clothes but the metallic yet disgusting scent surrounding him didn’t let it go unnoticed.

“What happened?” You asked quietly, still with his arms around you “How is he?”

“By the time I got to the infirmary to check on him he was already on the floor” Wooyoung explained quietly, running his hand up and down your back “He was conscious so I tried to keep him awake, try to stop the hemorrhage but there was too much blood and he stopped talking and-”

“What I can’t understand is how things like this can happen in a place where inmates should be watched throughout the whole day?” San’s hard yet cold voice brought silence to the room, you dragged your eyes towards them, acknowledging their presence for the first time since you got here.

The three of them looked miserable.

Wooyoung let you go and turned around to face them. He was tense but you knew him well enough to know he would attempt to stay calm in order to not let the situation get out of hand. “Some of them manage to find the right times to get away from us and-”

“So you admit you guys are not doing your job well?” Yunho joined his friend, glaring at Wooyoung as he crossed his arms on his chest. Hongjoong limited himself to look down at something that was displayed on the screen of his phone. Probably business? Whatever it was seemed to be important.

“I mean, that wasn’t even the place I was watching” Wooyoung replied hesitantly, not liking the accusations that were suddenly being thrown his way.

“Guys-” You tried to stop the upcoming argument, to help them relax a little but San glared at you, shutting you up immediately.

“Why were you going to the infirmary then?” He asked, curiously looking at him. “Were you involved in what happened?” He pressed further, willing to pressure him even more.

“What are you trying to say?” Wooyoung stepped forward, hating how they were trying to blame him for what had happened while he had only wanted to save their friend.

Yunho stood up and took a step closer to Wooyoung, taking the same threatening stance Wooyoung had and before you could get in between them, Hongjoong that had stayed quiet during the entire exchange and who you thought wasn’t paying attention to any of the words that were being said finally looked up.

“This is not the place nor time to discuss this” He said, seriousness evident in his face as he looked between Wooyoung and Yunho. None of the males moved, still staring into each other’s eyes right before their leader spoke up again. “Officer Jung did as much as he could Yunho, now we just have to trust Mingi”

“He better get out of this one alive” San scoffed besides him as Yunho sat back down, your blood freezing when you saw how much hatred, how much pain shone in the male’s eyes “Because I’ll make all of their lives a living nightmare if he dies”

“He will” You whispered quietly, rubbing your eyes as Wooyoung sighed taking a seat besides you “He will get out of this one”

The room Wooyoung had guided you into was similar to the ones you’ve seen in movies before, it felt as if you were about to get interrogated by someone, that wasn’t the case though and unfortunately, you were just waiting to deliver some news. Something you couldn’t believe yet.

The ticking of the clock was the only thing that could be heard as it echoed in the empty room, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie as you stared down at the table, nervously waiting for Wooyoung to arrive. The tissues filling your pockets were starting to break into small pieces from how much you’ve been fidgeting with them and your swollen eyes burned from all the tears you’ve shed during the last few hours. Your nose was surely as red as Rudolph’s but that was not the thing the worried you the most.

Your current biggest worry opened the door and snapped you out of your thoughts, his eyes full of concern landing on your face as soon as he entered the room.

“Twenty minutes” Wooyoung said from behind Jongho, eyes on you to make sure you wouldn’t surpass the time limit he was putting on your little reunion “That’s all you got”

“Thanks Wooyoung” You whispered quietly, not trusting your voice too much. Wooyoung just threw

a small smile your way, eyes scanning your face briefly before he closed the door behind Jongho, going to wherever he would have to go to make sure nobody else would notice Jongho wasn’t in his cell at this time of the night.

You were sure he had heard what happened, news flew fast in this kind of place but you still wanted to be the one to tell him, you wanted to be there for him even if that meant seeing him break for the first time in all the years the two of you had been together.

He deserves to be told by you that Mingi was dead, that he wasn’t coming back anymore.

Jongho still stood by the door, ignoring the empty chair that was placed on the other side of the table waiting for him to take a seat. His hands were in his pockets, eyes down on the floor as he moved his weight from one of his legs to the other, not even knowing how to stand.

Letting out a shaky sigh, you gathered as much strength as you could and stood up, feeling his eyes on you while you walked around the room, picked up the empty chair and placed it down in front of the one you’ve been sitting on all this time. Jongho needed to be closer, he would need you to comfort him as soon as you confirmed the awful thoughts running through his head right now.

“Sit down” You told him, motioning to the chair you’ve just moved.

Jongho looked up at you, making your eyes meet. Time stopped between the two of you, the broken glance in his eyes broke your heart even more and you knew that even though the words hadn’t left your mouth yet he still knew what you were about to say. He wasn’t stupid after all and if Mingi had recovered from the attack he suffered in the infirmary the two of you wouldn’t be here, looking at each other, beating around the bush since none of you wanted to say it out loud.

“Listen to me” Jongho was the first one to break the silence, sadness dripping from his tone as he reached out to grab one of your hands, holding it gently.

“Jongho wait” You cut him off before he could keep talking, the sound of his voice giving you the little push you needed to start talking about what you planned to said “I need to tell-”

“I know” He nodded, eyes staring into yours as his grip on your hand got tighter. There were tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, pain written all over of his face but like always, Jongho kept his mask up and acted as if he was feeling nothing, as if this was just one of his usual days “I know (Y/N) and you need to listen to me”

“But-” Just thinking about Mingi being gone brought a thousand tears to roll down your cheeks, your hands shaking as he gently pulled you against his chest. It was unbelievable how you had come with the intentions of comforting him but it ended up him being the one comforting you. Jongho’s pain was surely stronger than yours, Mingi had been there for him when you couldn’t, he had been the one that kept him safe in this hell and now that was gone.

“I’ll cry his loss when this is over, when we’re safe and sound” He said gently, one of his hands caressing the back of your head while the other kept you close to his body. “You need to listen to me attentively, alright?” Jongho moved back enough to look into your eyes, both of his hands cupping your cheeks now so you could only look at him, not allowing you to look away. “Things are getting really bad for me” He said honestly, wiping your endless tears with his thumbs as they fell “Jaehyun is coming for me (Y/N) and let’s be honest, he has more friends than I do in here” Everything Jongho was saying made perfect sense, Jaehyun’s freedom was getting out of control and he could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted unlike Jongho. That scared you to death, his next target would be Jongho for sure and the thought of losing him like you lost Mingi only increased the pain in your chest.

“I’ll get you out of here” You said almost immediately, heart pounding against your chest “I’ll talk with Hongjoong and we’ll speed up the process and-”

“(Y/N)” Jongho’s voice lowered, his hands squeezing your cheeks a bit tighter to get your attention “I know you will baby, I know you want to get me out of here” The small smile on his lips broke your heart, something told you he was saying goodbye to you, that there were plans in his head that wouldn’t end the way you wanted to.

“You can’t leave me” You begged, shaking your head.

“I never will Treasure, I will never leave you” Jongho’s voice trembled and the alarms in your head rang louder “Listen to me alright? Just listen to me and you can say whatever you want when I’m done” Taking a deep breath you nodded, stomach twisting nervously, anticipation killing you “Something might happen to me, we both know that (Y/N), there’s nothing Jaehyun wants more than killing me” Your lower lip trembled when you nodded at his words, you also knew that and you hated yourself for not being able to do something against it “I’ll obviously try to avoid that though, it’s not like I’m going to wait for him to attack” His smile was full of sadness and he looked at you desperate, helpless “But if something happens-”

“No”

“If something happens” He repeated caressing your cheeks, one of his hands leaving your face to move into one of his pockets. His hand shook with emotion and nervousness “I want to do this if, unfortunately, I don’t have the chance to in the future” Before you could process what was going on, Jongho went down on one of his knees right in front of you, looking up at you with a look of love and adoration you’ve never seen in his eyes before. His mask was coming down, he wasn’t hiding his emotions from you anymore.

“Jongho-”

“I know you’ve imagined this way differently” He said with a small smile, tears still present in his eyes as he reached up and grabbed one of your hands “Because I was there when you talked for hours about how you’ve always wanted your wedding to be” Your heart was beating so fast at this point that it wouldn’t surprise you if it suddenly broke your ribcage and got through it “And definitely getting proposed to in a jail was never your number one idea but this is what I’ve got, I’m tired of waiting and I’m not taking the risk of losing my last chance” Jongho squeezed your hand tightly, a tear slipping from his eyes “Treasure, (Y/N), I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you” His confession squeezed your heart, you’ve always known Jongho and you had feelings for each other but hearing him say it hit you way differently “It’s surely not a surprise because let’s be honest, I’ve always made sure you knew you were and still are the most important thing in my life” His touch got gentler and his eyes softer, he couldn’t believe he was finally doing this “And if I get out of here, I promise I will give you the world baby, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted, we’ll have that wedding, you’ll have that house you’ve dreamed of and I’ll hopefully help you create the most beautiful family in the entire universe” You bit down on your lower lip, seeing how more tears started rolling down his cheeks “But if something happens, I don’t want to….To die regretting not doing this, regretting not making you mine” He suddenly stood up, pulling you closer to him, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’ve always been yours” You whispered quietly, letting your tears mix with his as they fell down your faces

“Marry me (Y/N)” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a proposal, he was begging you to do it, dying for you to accept him not as your best friend or as your lover but as your husband. Jongho wanted to be your other half, the person you would spend the rest of your days with, the one you would die for if it came to that “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, the reason I’m still alive fighting against all chances, the fuel that keeps my heart beating” He was whispering these words, voice shaky as if he was scared to say this too loud. Jongho has never been good when it came to feelings but he was opening himself up for you and only you tonight. “Be mine forever, you’ve already stolen my heart….Why not steal my last name as well?”

His last sentence made the both of you smile quietly, this cheesy side of him would have been truly funny if you weren’t in the situation you were in right now. He was asking you to marry him but deep down, it still felt as if he was saying goodbye to you.

“On one condition” You cleared your throat and looked at him, serious as ever “You have to get your ass out of here” You said holding back your tears, hearing your own voice breaking almost a thousand times during the same sentence “And prepare with me the wedding of our dreams” His smile got bigger, his head automatically nodding at your words “And you’ll have to wear a tuxedo” He hated them, Jongho always complained of how uncomfortable they looked but you knew he would look incredibly handsome in one of them.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to see you walking down the aisle” He whispered, staring down at your lips, his hands holding one of yours as he slid a ring down your finger, the cold metal turning your skin into goosebumps “I know it’s ugly as fuck but it’s what I’ve found around, I’ll get you the prettiest ring ever when we get out of here” The two of you laughed softly as you looked down at the bland stripe of silver metal around your finger.

“I love it” You mumbled happily, making him laugh a bit louder this time.

“You do huh? Choi (Y/N)?” The sound of your name along with his last name made your hearts simultaneously skip a beat, both of your smiles getting undeniably bigger as you looked into each other’s eyes. “So tell me”His lips brushed against yours temptingly, hungry for kisses. “Will you marry me? I swear I’ll wear a tuxedo” You giggled against his lips, nodding quietly at his words.

“Yes Jongho, I’ll marry you”

Outside in the parking lot, Wooyoung leaned back against a black car, cigarette between his lips as he breathed in the smoke that released some of the stress in his body.

“Thanks for the help today, we wouldn’t have been able to do it without you” Wooyoung shrugged at the words. Keeping his eyes up on the moon that shone above them.

“I just did the right thing, it was time for me to finally do something” He replied, kicking a stone near his shoe, watching it get lost in the darkness that surrounded the parking lot.

“You’ve been doing the right thing for a long time Wooyoung, without you, who would have watched Jongho’s back all these years?”

“I won’t feel like we succeeded until all of this is over” He simply replied, pushing himself away from the side of the car as he stepped on the cigarette he just threw down onto the floor.

“We’ll get him out of there alive, just hold on there a little longer”

“I think we’re running out of time” He turned around to look at the male, eyes serious and voice tense. Things were getting too complicated, the plan wasn’t going how it was supposed to. Getting Jongho out of jail wouldn’t be as easy as they thought it would be.

“Have I ever lied to you?” The other asked him, smiling a little when Wooyoung shook his head “Trust us, Jongho and (Y/N) will be out of here as soon as possible”

“Better hurry up though” Wooyoung insisted, not afraid to pressure the other male “It will be better if you guys get them out of here alive rather than Jaehyun getting them out of here in plastic bags”

“Patience is the key to success” A sigh was heard, the engine of his car revving alive since it was his time to go. He had things to do, plans to discuss with the rest of his friends. “Pleasure working with you officer Jung”

“As long as you keep (Y/N) safe, the pleasure was all mine Hongjoong”

Taglist: @guess--monster @cometoceantrenches @miatsubaki23 @lovelyvitamin @heroesfan101 @daintysan @t-tbinnie @shyshybabyy @little-precious-baby @bebetiny @mirror-juliet @btrombley13 @yukine-smx @wavetease

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