#probably the only person who will go ‘oh hell yeah’ when offered instead of running away

[endlessly-ranting-antheia]

Ray can’t pull his threesome trick on Boeing to get him away from Sand because Boeing will be way too into it

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

Overtime overture - Richie Jerimovich x reader

Carmen Berzatto was a fucking dumbass. Okay, let’s rewind and put our customer service attitude on. Carmy was running this whole place by himself. That came with changes, wild cards. Syd’s stage was one. Your starting as a rookie part-time waitress was another. Everyone else knew their schedules by heart. And they had the common sense to remind your boss when they were supposed to end a shift. Not you though. That’s how you ended up working a few hours overtime in the biggest rush you’d ever seen. Alongside the man you had a massive work crush on.

So, how did you get there? You started your regular shift at 14, barely avoiding the lunch time rush. Still, the place was a bit more lively than usual. So Carmy did the logical thing. Forsake training you on a new station and gave you the work you were familiar with. Which was precisely the register with Richie. There was only 1 problem - you had no knowledge on how to enter the orders. So you did the rest while your coworker was busy. Between arranging plates, walking to tables and cleaning trays, you were too. Even in the quiet moments you tried to slip away, making drinks and getting the lobby more pristine. Yet there were still moments where you were too tired to even do anything except stand. Then Riche talked to you about college. You asked about his kid. Safe, work friendly topics. You cringed as you remembered how he had scolded you and Syd for talking about your exes last week, making you prepare for closing instead. That didn’t even top your most embarrassing moment. When Carm dismissed you with a ‘’bye bye, mai thai’’, you blurted out ’mai thai, that’s what got me to lose my virginity’ before thinking. Your boss barely registered what you said, while Richie doubled over in a hyena-like laughter. You were so done with everything that you didn’t even care until later. By the time you got home, you were so mortified that you considered just quitting tomorrow. Luckily no one made any references and you kept your paycheck. 

Little by little, the hours trickled by. It was finally 22, time for you to go home. You looked at Carmy, who glanced down at the schedule and continued giving orders to the kitchen. You waited a bit more, I mean a couple of minutes wouldn't kill you.  And it would help your already dwindling bank account. Plus, who even came to the restaurant this close to closing?Festival goers, that’s who. Apparently there was a big music event happening and the restaurant’s hours were different. And all of your coworkers but you knew about it. Which would make sense, since you weren’t working closing, they were. But little by little you were getting nearer to that. And there was no way in hell you were working a 12 hour shift, walking home and  then showing up again tomorrow. Yet, Richie was working so hard, already overwhelmed, even with your help. So you couldn’t just leave him to handle all these people and their orders. Seriously, they were in and out, as soon as you handed one takeaway bag, another person queued up. Richie could see you starting to struggle. You were slower, leaning more against the counter, he could even hear you swear in a foreign language. But before he could ask, there was another person with a bright sequined outfit asking for a sandwich. It was 12.30, and things were finally calming down. When the lobby was empty, you turned to your coworker and asked

‘’You think you can handle it on your own?’’.

‘’Yeah, why? Oh, you probably wanna go home. When does your shift end anyway?” 

“At ten.”

“Ten? That was more than two hours ago. Why did you stay?”

“You needed the extra pair of hands.”

‘’You’re a fucking angel. Let’s get you out of here. Cousin.’’ Richie yelled for Carm and there went your subtlety. Still, the man you had been helping the last few hours let you speak. Your boss apologized profusely, offering you everything. Then moments later got into a screaming match with Richie over the latter driving you home, instead of finishing his shift. Ah, the duality of men. You guessed guilt won over, because as soon as you were done changing, your crush was there, car keys in hand.

 ‘’Won’t you get in trouble? I mean, there might still be people and what if Carmy gets pissed.You can still go back and finish up.’’

‘’I’m not gonna let you walk 30 minutes in the dead of night. And before you say anything, I know you’ve done it before. When I’m on schedule you don’t have to anymore, it doesn't matter if you end at 20 or 3 in the morning.’’

Seeing him be so kind was a surprise, so you only managed a ‘’Thanks Richie’’ before heading to his car. By habit you went to the backseat and got scolded by a ‘’I’m not a chauffeur, you know.’’. So you quickly scrambled out and moved by him. Your mind flashed with the words suspended license as you fastened your seatbelt. But he was careful, very much so. You, on the other hand, were so bad at actually guiding him, that the Google Maps voice had to fill the awkward silence. When his car was in front of your building, you were relieved and basically ready for bed. 

‘’Thanks for everything, Richie, really.’’ 

‘’You’re welcome, angel.’’. You guess that the nickname was gonna stick, whether you liked it or not. Problem is that you did enjoy it, even a bit too much. Darling, sweetie, honey, your colleagues had cycled through all of those when they had trouble learning your name. Chef seemed to take priority over all of these. But now, every time Richie saw you he’d call you the new name. You’d expected it the day after, but even a week later he was still at it. 

‘’You’re my angel, you know that right?’’

‘’Don’t let the actual Angel hear you. You’ve helped me out so much since starting, it’s only fair.’’

As you were giving a coffee to a customer insisting they didn’t need a takeaway lid, the older man went to also make himself a latte. As if on cue, Carmy calls you both ‘’5 minutes, drinking break’’. Needing the fresh air, you also go out and the smell of strong cigarettes hits you. Knowing your need to fit in, he offers you one. Surprisingly you take it and lean into his lighter. He remembers teasing you about not being able to operate one, your cigarettes with foil, etc. All your inexperienced charm was cute. It scratched the part of his brain that watched hardcore porn, that did a double take when you wore pink dresses. Even if he cringed when you were too young to get his references, your expressions of concentration went straight to his cock. After a couple of shifts, his searches drifted from milf towards college girls. The flame illuminates your blush. Why do your lips wrapped around his ciggie make him as hard as a rock? It was wrong to get the hots for you like that. Maybe it was just a fucked up close proximity thing, like the romance books you cooed about. There was only one couch or whatever. Riche wasn’t blind, he could see the looks that Carmy and Sydney gave each other. Hell, even sometimes he swore your eyes lingered on him. The Bear had its allure, it was a crockpot for not only fights, but sexual tension. 

He must’ve zoned out way too much because you called ‘’Earth to Jerimovich, hello. Carmy is gonna have our collective ass.’’ Richie almost mutters something about having your ass before stopping himself. He just stubs his cigarette out and goes back to working the register with you. Thankfully the clients killed his stiffy before you could say HR violation.

 Richie kept his promise. Despite ending his shift a whole hour before you, he was there, waiting. At this point, there was no point for you to argue. You just accepted your new role as his passenger princess. But as you initially expected, something went wrong. He stops at your house. You wave goodbye and expect him to drive away, as usual. He doesn’t. More like he can’t. The car sputters but won’t start. His eyes drift to the fuel indicator and he sees it’s completely empty.

‘’Shit, Carmy sent me on that product run before you came in. Must have drained my tank.’’ he concludes, to fill the awkward silence.

 ‘’You could stay over. I mean, I’m not sure if it’s gonna be more comfortable, but at least then my roommates won’t call the police on you.’’ you say, half trying to appease the guilt in you and half because you wanted to spend more time with him. 

 ‘’Hey, my car isn’t that old that I look like a hobo. Right? Anyway, you don’t have to do that just because you feel bad for me’’. He hit the nail on the head, but you couldn’t let him know that.

‘’Richie, it’s fine. Tit for tat, you scratch my back, I scratch yours.’’

‘’It will turn cold as fuck, it’s fucking February.’’ he thinks out loud. ‘’Okay.’’ 

He’s stealthy, fitting his large frame into the disheveled college apartment you share with your housemates. You forget just how disheveled your room is. Richie’s eyes dart from the plushies on your bed to the alcohol bottles balancing your stacks of books. You bend over your bed to fix the covers, and he swears there’s a flashing neon sign above your ass saying ‘’Smack me’’. He turns his head and he sees it. A pack of condoms. Brand new, unopened, name brand condoms. In order to not explode on the spot, he asked ‘’So, can you hand me the extra pillow and a blanket or something.’’. Richie was happy with the floor, he really was. It would be the same as his car. Besides, one night of bad sleep wasn’t going to kill him. But then, you reminded him why he fucking called you his angel. 

‘’You can take the bed with me’’. He must’ve made a face, because you clarified ‘’God, not like that. Ummm I meant that it’s a big mattress. There’s enough space for two people to lay down without touching. Plus by the time you get comfortable, I will be dead asleep already.’’

You were wrong. In your own room, your own bed, you were wrong. You had shared it with friends, even a few lovers. But none of them had been as tall as Richie, as broad as him. No matter how any of you moved, there was no way to avoid skin to skin contact. You’re convinced your colleague was too tired of you cause he was fast asleep. Finally you just give up on trying to be comfortable, lay on your stomach and bury your face in the pillow.

 It must have been muscle memory. That was the only rational explanation as to why Richie wakes up in the middle of the night with his hands gripping your ass. He moves them immediately, ready to apologise, to move to the floor, to fucking leave Chicago. You don’t even stir, finally sleeping heavily. He fucking pops a bonner, like he’s 10 years younger than his actual age. Just as he turned away to tuck it into his pants, and you woke up. Thankfully you didn’t scream or kick him out. You just asked ‘’Need a hand?’’

You weren’t sure what came over you. You never thought you would be this bold. But again, there was no rational way to react to your crush touching himself while laying next to you. 

Richie is fucking extatick. But still gentle, having the subtlety you were lacking. The fingers that were on his cock traced over your lips, before he leaned in. His kiss was soft, but needy. Still he wasted no time in pulling you closer to him, rubbing himself against you. Holy shit, the man was hung like a horse. All the rumors about tall men having a third leg certainly were right in his case. You would let yourself be humped by Richie all night, your needy moans muffled by his kisses. He instinctively moves to kiss your neck, nipping at any bare skin he can reach. He thrust against you shallowly and groans.

‘’Tell me what you need, angel. If it’s more, I’ll give it to you. If you want me to stop, fuck I’ll stop. Just please fucking talk to me.’’ 

‘’More, don’t stop. Clothes off, please. Need to feel you.’’ You swear he had a second job as a stripper, because he shed his shirt and pants off in record speed. He’s toned. You let yourself admire his abs for a moment, even this getting to you. You needed to have him and you needed it now. Your hand gingerly place his hand against your pussy, a silent plea to touch you.

‘’You’re fucking drenched, angel. Do I make you this wet? Just from kissing, huh. Can’t wait to see just how sensitive you are. Would you like that?’’ He asked you, a grin on his mouth. 

You nod.

‘’Words, angel. Words, please.’’

‘’Yes Richie, please.’’

That was enough for him to start rubbing your clit, keep you begging and whining. He switches it up curling a finger inside of you and fucking swears. He toys with you, alternating between the two until you come. 

Only then does he get up and reaches for the box. You’re too blissed out to be mortified that he saw your contraceptives. You were too busy wondering how he was gonna use them. He opens the package and doesn’t take his eyes off you as he rolls the condom on his shaft.

Richie Jerimovich is a fucking traditionalist, literally. You were ready to tease him about the missionary, to ask if he could handle it. He took a pillow from next to you and placed it under your hips. No one had done that before, but before you can ask what’s going on he taps the head of his cock against your clit. The first thrust is shallow. But the second one is so deep inside you, that you can’t help but say

‘’Holy shit’’ 

‘’Language, angel’’ You have half a mind to flip him off, but then he moves again and all your thoughts are gone. You had never been this wet before. And he fucking started rubbing your clit in time with his thrust. You can’t help but fucking moan, and along with the sounds of the headboard hitting the wall, it’s a fucking cacaphony. Richie muffles your sounds with his hand.

‘’Let’s not have the whole building know my name, huh angel. After all, if you get a noise complaint now, I’ll have to stop.’’

You whine and that’s all he needs to keep going. Richie feels that you’re close, you were fucking clenching against him. His pace picks up, he’s chasing his own relief. He’s determined to make you come a second time, to show you he’s all about your pleasure. There’s also a little voice in his head, saying that if he orgasms before you, he’s too old for this. Spent, you groan out ‘’Cumming,please’’.

Were you begging for more or for permission, he wasn’t sure. Both options sounded fucking great to him, so he said ‘’That’s it, let go. Such a good fucking girl for me,angel’’.

Usually the girls he’d hook up just mixed in ‘’yes’’ and ‘’fuck’’ when they orgasmed. You fucking managed to say ‘’Richie Jerimovich, you’re a fucking god’’. That’s all he needs to follow suit and come. He rolls off of you, panting and sweaty, ready to throw the used condom in your thrash. You, in all your fucked out naked glory, manage to dart to the bathroom, grab the toilet roll. After he wipes, you return, aiming to avoid a UTI. When you’re back, he’s waiting with his fucking arms draped against your spot, clearly wanting a cuddle. In his arms, you finally managed to get some good sleep. 

Morning comes. Richie stays, because of course he does. It turns out both of you don’t really do this. So it’s a very long and awkward silence before one of you suggests breakfast. While you’re eating, he somehow manages to get himself a free toll from a friend of a friend who owes him. Finally, you manage to say only a portion of what you want, namely

‘’Richie, ummm can we do this again. I think after last night I’ll have to go to the walk in every time you brush past me.’’

‘’Of course, angel. I’m not nearly done with you.’’

You choke on your food, having the feeling that it’s not gonna be the only thing you’d be choking on in the future. God bless Carmen Berzatto and his inability to remember your schedule. 

[amazingmsme]

A Gift, No Strings Attached

AN: Tickletober is finally upon us! I'm so excited for this, I can't wait to see what everyone makes! Hope you all enjoy day 1: anticipation with Miguel & Peter B! Everyone seems to think a certain spiderman needs to be introduced to a certain belt, as seen in episode 17.

Miguel was a skeptical person on the best of days, so when Peter B. waltzed into his office declaring he had "got him something," he was rightfully wary. Peter hopped up on the platform as it lowered, seemingly too impatient to wait for it to lower fully.

"MJ and I went to the mall yesterday, and when I saw this I just knew it had your name all over it," he rambled before Miguel could question him. He had a small shopping back hanging off his arm and Miguel resigned himself with a sigh.

"Oh yeah? What is it?" he asked, deciding to play along.

"It's a utility belt!" Peter exclaimed, feeling only a little disappointed when he didn't share his enthusiasm. He just stared at him, a single brow raised.

"Y-you know, for tools and stuff! Thought you'd appreciate something useful," he felt the need to explain himself, growing more nervous by the second. Maybe Miguel saw through the act, or maybe he hated belts, or maybe-

"Wow, uh, thanks. This'll actually come in handy," he said, accepting the offered gift. Or maybe he wouldn't suspect a thing.

Peter hadn't expected this to be so easy.

While he really had gone to the mall with MJ, that wasn't where he got the belt. He had been watching tv with Mayday when the villain escaped from his frozen prison, now capturing his attention as well as his daughter's. He was sure that SpongeBob and Patrick would be in deep for letting the worst villain escape, chuckling when they resorted to "rehabilitating" him instead. His interest was piqued when they activated the character's iconic belt, sending him into a fit of ticklish laughter.

"Heh, Miguel could use a belt like that, huh Mayday?" he cooed before gasping at the revelation he just made. He set her in her baby jumper in front of the screen, leaving her to bounce and giggle to her heart's content. He left the door to his office open so he could still keep an eye on her as he began to draft the blueprints for Miguel's "gift."

A week later, it was finished. And of course he had to run a few tests, curtesy of his loving and very patient wife. Though when she found out who it was for, she didn't really mind testing it out, especially seeing as she always got her revenge.

Peter wanted nothing more than to activate the belt right then and there, but in a monumental show of self restraint, he held back. If he did this now, then only he would get to see the outcome, and this was too good to keep for himself. Unfortunately, he would have to be patient. Wait it out for the perfect moment to present itself.

Honestly, Peter didn't expect anyone else to know what it was supposed to be. Clearly, his universe wasn't the only one with SpongeBob.

"Gonna go out on a limb an' say he has no idea what that belt really is. Right?" Hobie questioned from behind. Peter jumped, not because he didn't know he was there, (spidey senses and all) but because of what he had said.

"I-I have no idea what you're talking about!" he bluffed, but crumbled when Hobie leveled him with a knowing look, cocking an eyebrow in mild amusement. "Okay yes, it is what you think it is, and hell no he doesn't know, are you crazy? You think I'd be standing here talking about it if he did?"

Hobie shook his head with a slight chuckle. "I doubt you'd even be breathin' mate," he teased, playfully smacking him on the back. Peter let out a slightly nervous laugh.

"Heh, yeah me either. He'd probably superglue the damn thing to my suit if he knew," he joked.

"Yeah well, keep me posted. I wanna know the second you plan on using it," he said, saluting him as he left the room.

Hobie made sure to spread the word to his friends, swearing them all to secrecy in the hopes that they could be lucky enough to witness Miguel's giggly downfall.

Too bad Miles was out sick and didn't get the memo.

He was back at the Spider-Society, catching up with his friends in the cafeteria when Miguel spotted them and decided to check in.

"Miles, glad to see you back," he greeted with a nod. "How're you feeling?"

"Oh, hey! I'm glad to be back sir," he replied, still unable to shake the urge to keep things formal between them. "B-but I'm feeling good! Much better now," he assured. He looked down at the burger in his hands, ready to take a bite when a new accessory caught his eye. He froze just as he brought it to his mouth.

"I've told you, just Miguel is fine," he assured, a soft smile gracing his features. He noticed Miles's gaping mouth and wide eyes, looking him over with a puzzled expression. "You uh, you sure you're okay?" he asked just to double check.

Miles shook himself out of it and nodded. "Yup! Never better!" Gwen shot him a look from across the table, undoubtedly wondering what had him acting so weird. She followed his line of sight and things suddenly fell into place. She locked eyes with Hobie, sharing a subtle nod as Miles continued on, "But is that a new belt? I don't think I've seen you wear it before..."

"Oh yeah, Peter gave it to me. Said he wanted to give me something useful for once," he explained, and it all suddenly clicked for Miles. "It's a nice change of pace from all the useless knickknacks. Don't get me wrong, they're fine in small doses but he seriously overestimates how much free space I have," he said, but Miles wasn't paying attention. "To be honest, I'm just glad he picked something that matches my suit."

"Heh, yeah. 'Cause that's the worst that could happen- ow." Miles wasn't sure who kicked him, but judging by all of their looks, he was clearly out of the loop on something.

"Riiiight," Miguel said, noticing how weird they were all of a sudden. "Well, you know where to find me," he said and walked off. Miles waited until he was out of the cafeteria to speak because you could never be too careful where Miguel's concerned.

"So were you guys just not gonna tell me Miguel got a tickle belt?" he blurted out as soon as he deemed safe.

"We were going to! We just... forgot," Pavitr said, a shy smirk tugging at his lips.

Miles scoffed, "You don't just forget something like that!"

"I was gonna tell you as soon as I saw you, but then we were on a mission and it really wasn't a good time, and I did forget to tell you. Sorry about that," Gwen explained.

"Nah it's cool. I just can't believe he's still wearing it," he said in awe.

"Oh he doesn't know," Gwen said, causing Miles to whip around to look at her.

"What?"

"Peter hasn't used it yet. Figured he was waitin' on you or somethin'," Hobie said, dipping a fry in ketchup.

"Wait so you guys haven't said anything to try and warn him?" he asked, a little shocked. He was met with a chorus of no's and furious head shakes.

"And ruin the fun? As if!" Pavitr exclaimed, appalled that Miles would even suggest such a thing.

"Look, Miguel is the fiercest, most stoic spider in all of HQ, and he's chewed my ass out more times than I can count. I can't wait to see what happens when he's trying to choke back laughter and you sure as hell aren't gonna ruin it for me, got it?" Hobie said, pointing a threatening finger in his face. Miles nodded.

"I won't! I won't!" he promised, hands held up in surrender.

"Good. 'Cause I honestly don't know why you'd wanna help the bastard," he teased, grabbing him in a headlock and giving him a noogie. Miles laughed, shoving him off and punching his arm.

After lunch, Miles immediately set out to find Peter. It didn't take long until he bumped into him.

"Miguel is gonna kill you," he said in way of a greeting. Peter spun around in a panic

"What? I didn't even do anything!" he froze upon seeing Miles and relaxed. "Oh, I'm guessing you saw the belt," he said nonchalantly.

"Uh, yeah! Are you crazy? I was serious, he's gonna kill you!"

Peter waved him off. "I appreciate the concern, but I'll be fine. Worst that'll happen, he'll tickle the shit outta me. But I'll avoid it as long as I can. Trust me, I've weighed my options and it's worth it to see the look in his face," he rambled, falling into step with Miles. He shook his head in amusement.

"You won't be acting so cool when he gets after you," he gave a playful warning.

Peter laughed nervously. "Hey, why do you think I haven't tested it out yet?" He smiled to himself, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Honestly, you all act like I don't already know I'm a dead man walking."

"So... why'd you do it?" Miles asked, genuinely curious. Peter shrugged.

"Eh, it was kinda a spur of the moment type thing. If I remember correctly, he kinda snapped at me for wasting his time, and I was a little ticked off, I'll be honest. Got the idea while watching tv with Mayday when I got home."

"SpongeBob?"

"Yeah."

"Nice."

"I guess I just thought he could use one, y'know?"

"Oh, you're absolutely right with that one," Miles agreed with a chuckle. "So, when do you think you'll try it out?" he asked eagerly.

"Well, I've kinda been waiting for him to piss me off again. I think that's when I'd get the most satisfaction," he decided.

All in all, it didn't take long for the man to get on his nerves. Ha, and Miguel said that he was the annoying one.

He was in one of the many break areas, letting Mayday crawl around with Pav, Miles, Gwen and Hobie. She really liked getting to see them, and they loved playing with her, so it was a win win. It gave Peter a chance to let his guard down, thankful for the extra sets of eyes watching over his daughter. It also gave him the chance to get a plethora of new adorable videos of the light of his life.

Miguel however, thought it fit to hunt him down and interrupt his break. (Yes, he knew it was going on three hours, but Miguel was trying to get him to file paperwork! He couldn't let that happen!)

"Peter, there you are." His voice alone made Peter groan. "Where the hell have you been? You went on lunch hours ago, you said you'd do that paperwork."

"Actually, I never said I'd do it. You told me to do it," he corrected. Miguel rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, it's the same thing." Peter muttered under his breath something along the lines of "no it's not." Miguel cocked his head to look at him, "What was that?"

"Oh nothing," Peter said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an innocuous remote. He started fiddling with it, and the teens started whispering amongst themselves. Nothing super obvious, they didn't want to give themselves away.

"Just drop her off at the daycare when you're ready, you work better when you're not attached at the hip," Miguel said sternly before turning to walk away. Peter scoffed at the notion, clicking a button and cranking a dial. He stopped in his tracks, squirming where he stood and rubbing his waist in confusion. Peter smirked and turned it up, causing Miguel to double over and bark out a laugh.

He turned around, fighting off giggles as he leaned on the wall for support. He glared them all down, though the wide smile and deep chuckles that slipped out really diminished the effect. "W-whahat the hehehell is going ohohon? Ihihi know you guys hahave something to do with it," he accused through grit teeth, unable to contain his giggles as he twisted back and forth, knees buckling as he wrapped his arms around his waist, allowing himself to laugh freely.

This was what they'd all been waiting for. Phones were taking videos and snapping pictures all while Miguel cursed and writhed on the floor, tugging at his suit and the belt, unable to get it off. The wait had well been worth it. Even better, the only one to suffer any subsequent consequences was Peter.

[mysteriousbp]

A recent post by @stuffyflowers had me thinking about how Kanako sees herself and Clover. Like she could only watch as Dalv got beaten up and probably felt incredibly guilty for not being able to do¹ anything. So when she found out about the experiment of course she volunteered herself, so she could "be useful for once" and help protect monsters. Except it backfired and didn't help anyone; all she accomplished was thrusting herself into a living hell and ruining her mother's life.

And then comes Clover, who also offered themselves for the sake of monsters except their sacrifice paid off and monsters were freed. And then, when offered a second chance they turned it down to instead save her personally. I get the feeling that on top of all the trauma, it would eat away at her; that on some level she considers herself a failure and perhaps even unworthy of being saved by Clover. To a lesser extent I'd feel that she'd also be super admiring of Clover, maybe even a little worshipful initially though it would be tempered by them being in her head.

In any case Clover would get a front row seat to her issues and could help her deal with them. Then again Clover would have their own issues I'd imagine, their preference for self sacrifice and shouldering burdens that children shouldn't might make some things worse. What do you think?

Oh yeah. Those two have issues that they shouldn't have because they are children.

In my AU, Kanako does feel guilty that Clover gave up a second chance at life just to give her another chance at a normal life. She also blames herself for the serum accident and all the pain that her mother has gone through. And she blames herself for Dalv almost dying to protect her. And because of the true lab, she gained cleithrophobia.

While Clover is another can of worms. He fuse with Kanako because he wanted to help her because he things she deserved a second chance of a normal life. But also because he thinks he didn't deserve a second chance in life. Why? Well... There was a side effect on Clover from being absorb by Omega Flowey... He remembered... everything... All his runs... So he feels guilty for all the bad things he did... And if you remember this post. You know that Kanako is going to eventually relive some mess-up stuff from Clover's memories in her dreams. And Clover knows that and he's dreading it. And sometimes he thinks he doesn't deserve to be called a Ketsukane after what he did in previous runs...

Yeah... Those two in my AU really need therapy...

[tobiasdrake]

Uncovering the full truth behind case 1 left me with mixed feelings. The full truth behind case 2 left me heartbroken and emotionally shattered. The full truth behind case 3 leaves me facepalming.

Fuck this guy, man.

They're trying to give him this vibe of "Yes, I did the murder, but I am actually a tragic victim seeking the only justice that exists in an unjust society," thing like they did for the previous two cases.

But. Like. His motive is that he gave up on liberation, opting instead to rob the bank and then skedaddle. And y'know what? I would grant him that. That's fair. You do you, man. Typically, a bank's money is insured, so it's not like he's robbing real people. There is little relationship between what you have in your account balance and what the bank has in their vault.

But he also shot Shachi for no reason. Utterly pointless. Contributes absolutely nothing to his robbery plan; In fact, he had to add so many extra steps to the plan just to pull off this pointless murder that it ultimately revealed him. We weren't here for the bank money; We were here for the murder. Had he simply robbed the bank and ran, he'd get off scot free.

He got himself caught because he wanted to kill Shachi for funsies. That makes it supremely difficult to offer him the same level of sympathy I had for the Priest or the Theater Trio.

Y'know, this is specifically why bank robbers try extremely hard not to kill people. You rob a bank, you have a fair shot of getting away with it. There's a limit to how much anyone cares when a small percentage of a rich person or organization's wealth goes missing. It's not that big a deal. But once blood has been spilled, the case takes on a whole new level of severity.

Oh, yeah, go right ahead. Have fun. No complaints out of me this time. Fuck him.

Anyways, now that we've remote-murdered an asshole, I still have no idea how we're going to avoid being made into straws. We don't even have a nearby corpse for Shinigami to puppet and do her, "By the way, I came back to life to confess my crimes, OKAY DYING AGAIN!" shtick.

...okay, I was going to make a joke about shoving the least likable member of our group at them and running while they're busy murdering that person. The whole, "You don't have to outrun the bear, you can just outrun the guy next to you" bit.

But the only people with us are Fubuki and Kurumi. I like Fubuki and I've come around on Kurumi. We don't have anyone here who's truly expendable. Yuma, I think you might actually have to be the one to bite this bullet.

Fubuki, Kurumi, run like hell while Dominic is busy breaking Yuma in half with his bare hands.

Wait, what?

Oh ho ho ho you guys are in deep shit right now. Halara's about to choke out Dominic with his own spine.

Oh, Desuhiko! I was just talking about you a moment ago. Your timing couldn't be more perfect. Okay, guys. Plan is to shove Desuhiko at them and then run like hell!

I think Halara's going to drown you in the flooded district if you try to take credit for their work like that.

Nah, man, that's fair. I felt the same way about you. Thanks for bringing us Servan and, uh, Icardi's corpse. <.< Sorry about that. Accomplished absolutely nothing by killing this man. >.> But I knew Servan had to be involved too!

Honestly, he's better off. Not living to enter CTU custody is probably for the best.

Once again, it's not like the Peacekeepers care that much about innocent or guilty. But Halara just beat the shit out of Guillaume's random Stormtrooper, so I think the threat of violence from a Shonen Action Warrior is going to carry us out of here.

Hold up, you didn't know about the bank robbery but you were in the boat helping Icardi rob the bank? Okay, man. However you want to spin this.

I can believe you didn't know about Shachi's murder because a) it's so random and unnecessary and b) the Mystery Labyrinth never pegged you as involved with that. If you helped plan Shachi's death, you'd be dead too right now.

But I have a hard time believing that your involvement was solely limited to bomb-manufacturing.

That's definitely it, Desuhiko. Y'know what? We're all going to head out, but you should stay here and shoot your shot. Go for it, man. This is your moment. I believe in you.

[thegirlfromwky]

Salvation -Pt.1- (Kenny McCormick x OC)

Not having friends never really bothered Sam, but when her mother calls with some bad news, she realizes how lonely she really is...

!!!(TW: Neglect, Mommy issues, Strong language)!!!

(NOTE: Characters are aged up to be seniors in high school! This is based on a Sims 4 save I've been playing!)

🤎💚❤️🧡🤎💚❤️🧡🤎💚❤️🧡🤎💚❤️🧡

Sam jumped out of her seat and slung her backpack over her shoulder, rushing out of the small classroom as soon as the bell dismissed her.

It was Friday afternoon, and while most students were rushing to exit the school, Sam speed-walked further into it. The sound of her peers making weekend plans with their cliques faded into the background of her mind as she only thought of one thing...

The new series of books in the library. They were brand new, having just been purchased by the school. They probably even still had that new book smell!

As the thoughts of fresh, crisp pages and a quiet night in under the light of a reading lamp filled her brain, she was suddenly sent tumbling onto her ass after walking right into something.

"Ow...fuck" she cursed, scrambling to pick up her backpack and the textbooks she was carrying.

"Hey, watch- Oh shit, it's a girl. You okay..?" a voice asked above her. She looked up, surprised. She hadn't even considered that the thing she had run into was a person; she assumed it was a wall or something.

Instead, a boy with messy golden blonde hair and concerned blue eyes peered down at her. He wore an orange hoodie and baggy ripped jeans with black sneakers. Sam felt herself blush, realizing she was staring.

But...he was staring too. His wide eyes searching hers for any sign of pain or anger. Just then, he held out his hand to her, offering to help her up. And with an embarrassed gulp, she took it, placing her smaller hand gently in his. It's warm and his flushed skin is softer than she would have assumed.

For the first time ever, she is self-conscious about her chipping red nail polish.

As gently as possible, he pulls her to her feet and she brushes the dirt from her black pleated skirt. The boy hurriedly bends down and picks up her things, handing them to her.

"So, um...you in a hurry or something?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Her face warmed up all over again.

Fuck.

'I can't tell this guy I'm hurrying to pick up a book! I'll sound like a loser!'

"U-Um I was just on my way to my locker. Trying to get the hell out of here...heh..."

He smiled an amused and undeniably handsome smile, his eyes sparkling like sunlight on the ocean.

"Yeah, I feel that. Uh, I'm Kenny, by the way..."

"Sam..." she replied with a nod, holding her books against her chest.

"Kenny! Hurry up, asshole! We're playing Xbox at Kyle's!" a voice called. Sam glanced behind Kenny to see it belonged to a chunky, slightly shorter boy in a red coat. Two other boys were standing with him, their backpacks slung over their shoulders. A guy with a green hat is glaring at the one who yelled, and another with a brown coat is looking at his phone, not even paying attention.

"Coming, fatass..." Kenny grumbled, quiet enough that the other guy apparently did not hear him, before turning back to Sam.

"Hey, um, I gotta go but..." he began, pulling a scrap piece of paper from her binder and a pen from his pocket and scribbling something down quickly.

"Text me sometime...okay?" he finished, winking and shoving the pen back in his pocket before hurrying over to his friends. The chunky guy gave Sam a weird look as they all walked away towards the exit, but she didn't even notice. She was too consumed by what had just happened, and too busy staring at the messy black ink scrawled on her notes.

A phone number...a boy's phone number. A cute boy.

Carefully, she took the page and folded it up, placing it in a zip pocket of her backpack so she wouldn't lose it. With a cursory glance around, she snuck off to the library.

-------------------------------

Later that evening, after indulging in a few chapters of her new book, she sat at her desk, her notes and textbooks spread out in front of her. As her eyes trailed down the pages of notes, doing their best to transplant the information into her brain, she stopped suddenly. Under one of her bullet points was the black ink Kenny had scrawled on the page. The number.

She tried to get on with her studies and read past it, but found herself lingering on it, imagining what she would say if she were to text him. The thought filled her with anxiety. She never texted people first. In fact, she hardly ever texted people period. But there was no way around it; she had to. He couldn't exactly make the first move without knowing her number in return.

She took a deep breath and, with all the courage she could muster, grabbed her phone from her desk drawer.

She opened the texting app, determined to send the first message before she lost her nerve, when suddenly the screen lit up on it's own.

'Mom' it read, vibrating in her hand.

"Mom? At this hour?" she mumbled, tapping the button to accept the call.

"Samantha? It's mom...how are you?"

A mother's voice is something that should be comforting. It should make you feel safe and happy, especially if your mother happens to almost never be at home. But hearing her mom over the phone made Sam feel...nothing, really. She cared for her mother, but honestly, she couldn't remember the last time she had even seen her. Her mother didn't know her...she didn't even know her daughter hated being called by her full first name.

"Hey, mom. I'm fine, just doing some homework..."

"Good! That's good honey...so you're doing well in school, then? High marks?"

"Straight A's, just like always"

"My smart girl. I'm proud of you, Samantha"

That should have made her happy. It didn't.

An awkward silence filled the air for a few beats before her mother cleared her throat and spoke again.

"Er, pumpkin, I...may have some bad news"

"Okay?"

She sighed.

"Work is going to take longer than expected, and...I won't be home for Christmas this year, sweetheart"

As indifferent as Sam was about her mother, she did feel her heart drop a little at this. Her mom had always made sure to be home for Christmas, making peppermint hot chocolate for them and bearing gifts from different states and countries. That was the one thing they had together. Their one tradition.

"Oh."

"Oh, Sammy, I'm so sorry! I would get away and come home if I could but there is just no way this year! I promise we will do hot chocolate and presents the second I come home in January, though!"

She hated 'Sammy' almost as much as her actual name.

"Okay..."

"I-If you get lonely, grandma can always fly in to spend Christmas with you! Should I call-"

"N-No, mom. No, it's fine. I'm okay. I promise..." she said, a little too quickly to be convincing. Her mother was silent for a long moment.

"I'm going to send extra money the week of Christmas. Get yourself whatever you want, sweetie"

Suddenly, there was a stern male voice in the background.

"O-Oh, um, yes sir. Be right there...Samantha, my break is over but...I will try my best to call again soon, okay? Promise. I love you..."

"Love you too, mom"

The call ended, and Sam was left in the heavy silence of her bedroom, dark except for the lamp on her desk. When the call screen went away, the blank text box popped back up. Mocking her, she felt.

She clicked off her phone and plugged it in for the night. She'd lost the nerve to send that text.

🤎💚❤️🧡🤎💚❤️🧡🤎💚❤️🧡🤎💚❤️🧡

Ello! I've only recently gotten into South Park and this is my first time writing a fic for it. Hope it's not too ooc!

[nrc-broadcasting]

A Deal Sealed In Gold

⋆﹥━━━━━━━🎧━━━━━━━﹤⋆

There has seem to be an issue(well, actually, just my dumba/ss); I answered this ask and instead of saving it to drafts, I posted it. I, for some reason, couldn’t post it privately or even do anything to it other than delete or edit it. So yeah, have a picture for a substitute.

A yawn erupted from Yuu’s mouth, minuscule amounts of morning dew still in their eyes.

They traced circles on their bedsheets, trying to grasp their consciousness before getting up.

Finally getting their bearings, the rose and stretched their arms out above their head.

After nudging Grim a few times to get him to wake up, they started making breakfast; it wasn’t much, since Ace and Deuce didn’t spend the night so their the only person eating, Grim only eats 2 tuna cans for breakfast these days.

“Grim~ time to get up,” Yuu said, clapping their hands loudly to try and get the sleeping cat on the counter to wake up again.

“HMMMM!” Grim mumbled begrudgingly.

“Oh?” Yuu raised an eyebrow.

“Get up now before I resort to hitting two pans together.” Yuu’s icy voice reached Grim, who shot up like he was electrocuted.

“I-I’m up, henchman!” Grim stuttered.

Yuu merely sighed. “Let’s just go and eat breakfast,” they said, opening a can of tuna.

After eating, they started brushing their teeth after helping Grim with his fur.

Deciding to review some e-mail requests, they picked up their phone with their toothbrush still in their mouth.

Their morning was peaceful. That was, until an e-mail mentioning a certain merman’s business made them choke on toothpaste.

•••

“Good morning, Twisted Wonderland! And by the Seven, do we have an interesting e-mail to read to day,” Yuu said into the mic, chuckling. A small smile etched on their face as the same upbeat music played in the background.

“Alright, right onto it I guess!” Yuu said, re-adjusting Grim’s position on their lap and giving him a few pets.

“This one comes from a listener named Annie, hope you tuned in today!” Yuu greeted.

“They ask; how did you get the upper hand on Azul Ashengrotto? It seems like making a deal with him is my last resort, so how do I avoid getting potentially exploited after signing a contract?” Yuu smiled, despite knowing they’ll get hell from the Octotrio later.

“Let me tell you the easy way out,” Yuu paused for suspense.

“Just don’t.” Yuu sighed, knowing they were probably in a tough place and thought that was their only option.

“Don’t even think about signing the contract.” Yuu said firmly.

“But should the situation really does call for it,” Yuu hesitated.

“Alright, Listen Up I suggest you read the contract more than 10 times to confirm that there’s no hidden clause, or offer something he’d deem worth more than your unique magic.” Yuu explained.

“I have faith that Azul’s stopped the way he…used to run his business. But after seeing people like you hesitate? The trust I have for Azul is still there, but I’ll go and check on Mostro Lounge myself anyway.” Yuu shook their head.

“You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. Or in other words, you take ridiculous risks and bear the consequences.” Yuu said.

“That contract might look golden like daylight. But I guarantee you there are a myriad of ways you can do to solve your problems; though I might not know what they are exactly, but if a contract is the last resort,” Yuu paused

“It should be the last resort.” Yuu warned.

“If, even despite all this, you still decide to go through with it, try to fulfill your side of the contract. If the requests are near impossible for you, remember most contracts have loopholes,” Yuu said, careful to talk slowly so the listeners can absorb the information.

“The contract you’ll make with Azul is not an exception, so search for any loopholes you can play to your advantage.” Yuu advised.

“The worst that’ll happen when you don’t complete a contract is that you’ll have to work at Mostro Lounge; for how long? That’ll depend on Azul himself.” Yuu said.

Their phone let out a little ding, signifying a notification; Yuu raised their eyebrow.

“Oh hey, it’s a new e-mail from Annie! Happy to see you’re listening in today.” Yuu gave a small smile, lightening the atmosphere.

“Annie asks: What are the things he’d deem more valuable than my unique magic?” Yuu read out loud.

“Ah,” Yuu sweat-dropped.

“It would seem you asked the wrong person, I wouldn’t know as I don’t even have magic! I’m sorry but I don’t think I’ll be able to give you advice on that.” Yuu genuine laughed. They’re magicless, that’s a fact, so it would be useless to take it as an insult.

“But if you ask what I think he’d find valuable, I have a few answers.” Yuu said.

“Pearls, corals, magic crystals, blot crystals, and that’s just to name a few.” Yuu said, counting on their fingers.

“The head of two dead eels and of a squid would suffice too, if you’re feeling a bit petty…” Yuu mumbled, mostly to themselves.

“You can also compensate him by being a good costumer, buying products in bulk and such.” Yuu said, zoning out to try and think of more suggestions. But alas, nothing came to mind.

Shaking their head, they focused their attention back to the mic in front of them.

“So, Annie, did that answer your question?” Yuu asked.

Another ding from Yuu’s phone.

“They said: Yes, it did! I’m glad to be able to help.” Yuu said.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━🎧━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Our fairytale has come to an end.

[mercy-burning]

Myth or Movie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Unbeknownst to the two of them, Y/N and Spencer's children have worked up a plan to get them to meet... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, someone is misgendered (nothing too bad, it’s very brief, and it’s sincerely apologized for by the person who misgenders) Word Count: 4.2k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my 2nd entry for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) Enemies To Lover’s Writing Challenge! This one was one of the prompts she provided: You and (Character)'s kids don't get along, so you have to have a talk. Turns out you... really really get along... and I couldn’t wait to tackle it! I believe my exact words were: “I’m gonna Parent Trap these bitches”... So do with that what you will lol

———

"I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Two heads turn to stare at me as I burst through the doors. I'm out of breath from running through the building, something the staff really didn't seem to appreciate, though their shouts and annoyed glances were the last thing on my mind.

As I try to catch my breath, the two heads stand, and suddenly I feel a lot smaller.

One of them I recognize— Principal Anteros. I'd met with her before over some of Sky's academic achievements, all positive things, which is why today's circumstances make being in this office rather uncomfortable.

It's also why I seem to shrink with embarrassment at my tardiness— and appearance. Waitressing has its benefits, but today's whirlwind of phone calls and a mention at meeting another parent are not any of them.

Speaking of, the other person in the room is one I've never seen before. He's taller than both Anteros and I, extremely well dressed, and probably the most intimidatingly beautiful human being I'd ever met. I can barely meet his eyes, and so I try not to think about what he's doing here—to think about having to talk to him.

I shrink even further.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Principal Anteros greets. Thankfully she doesn't sound too upset given the circumstances. "Please, have a seat."

I do, brushing off my uniform as if that will somehow help my appearance. The soft leather of the chairs, however comfortable they might be, fail to bring me any comfort at all.

"As I'm sure you've guessed already, this is Doctor Reid, Vivian's father."

Great, he's a fucking doctor? This already bodes well for me...

Regardless of my reservations, I turn to him and give a faint smile. He waves in turn, and for the time being I'm extremely glad he doesn't insist on shaking my hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, surely nothing but a formality.

"You, too," I say quickly, then turn back to Principal Anteros. "Your phone call sounded urgent... Is everything alright?"

As soon as I say it, I feel kind of dumb. Because of course everything isn't alright. My child's principal called a meeting with another parent, and that can never mean anything good, not to mention the fucking intimidation and awkwardness in the room right now. I almost apologize, trying to explain that that wasn't exactly what I meant to get across, but then I would have just been talking for way too long, embarrassing myself further.

Once again, I'm thankful for Anteros's ability to move the conversation along. "I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem so. I only bring this to attention because Sky and Vivian are both stellar students. They've never had any disciplinary issues or difficulties with other students..."

"No one's hurt, right?" Mr. Reid asks. I know he's just concerned for his child, but for some reason it feels like an attack on me, like he assumes my kid had something to do with it.

"No, no one's hurt. Thankfully there weren't any physical altercations. But it seems your girls are quite... loud."

The doctor looks like he wants to say something, but I'm quick to jump in before he can. "Sorry... Sky is non-binary. They use they/them pronouns."

I half expect one or either of them to make a big deal or just roll their eyes at me, as most people seem to do when I correct them on the matter, but Anteros gives a sincere apology and Reid probably couldn't have cared any less.

I still can't tell if I like him or not...

But that doesn't matter right now.

"What do you mean by loud?" I continue.

Anteros sighs. "Well, while there hasn't been any physical violence, your kids seem to have very heated arguments, usually during lunch or in the hallway in passing... We thought maybe we could resolve it here since, like I said, they're both excellent students, but then it started escalating to classroom arguments... It's a lot of screaming..."

I have never known Sky to raise their voice at anyone, not even in a situation where I probably would have. Lord knows I'm thankful they don't have my impatience and tendency to get pissed off easily...

So what happened that was so bad, it made them snap?

"You... You're sure you mean Vivian is acting out like this?" Reid asks slowly, and I can't stop myself from laughing out loud.

"Come on, she's a professional. This has been going on for weeks, in her school, I'm sure she would know if it was your kid having a screaming match with someone else..."

This time Doctor Reid actually looks over at me, an eyebrow raised, and though I very much believe what I've just told him, the way he's looking at me right now drops my heart straight down to my stomach, like he's the principal and I'm the student acting out—No, it's worse than that... I feel like he's a disappointed parent, but not with Vivian, with me.

I avoid his intimidating stare and look down at the ground. "Sorry... I'm just... This isn't like Sky, either, I don't know what to do..."

"Well, usually when we have these sort of disputes, we like to have the students talk it out amongst themselves with a moderator present. But we've tried that, and it seems that they still haven't made any progress. Now, I know your children are good at heart, and it seems like you both are excellent parents— You know your children better than anyone here ever could. So, I'm proposing the two of you take a meeting some time and try to figure out how to settle this."

Seriously? If it hasn't been made clear already, this man is a doctor of some kind, planets away from my league in any capacity, and I can just picture the two of us in a screaming match close to what I imagine our children's looked like...

Maybe we can just e-mail.

"Okay," he agrees evenly, and I'm surprised he seems this calm considering I've just practically yelled at him... "I have free time this afternoon if you want to talk it over."

"I have to get back to work, but I get done at five," I sigh, wanting to get this over with. "Are you free then?"

"Mhm."

"Good," Anteros chirps, standing and leaving Doctor Reid and I to follow suit. "Perhaps over the weekend we can get this settled."

I sure as hell hope so.

———

"Ms. Y/L/N, wait!"

I have no idea what he could possibly want from me now that we've set a time and place to talk tonight, but I'm just praying desperately that he doesn't want to take this time alone in the parking lot to get back at me for accosting him in Anteros's office...

Thankfully, his face when he approaches seems rather kind.

"You can call me Y/N..."

"Right," he says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and nodding. "I'm Spencer."

"Spencer... So, um... Did you need something?"

"O—Oh, I just... I know you have to get back to work so I'll make this short, but I wanted to see if you wanted to do, uh... dinner tonight?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I just figured since we probably didn't expect for our weekend to go this way... We should make it worth it?"

"Are you really trying to turn this into a date?"

"W— No, not really, I just... You know, I thought it might be nice to... make this less like a chore, you know? A—And don't feel like you have to say yes, it was just a thought, I'm sorry if I made this weirder..."

The fact that I still can't figure this man out bothers me, but right now he's blushing, and he looks like he's trying to save himself from embarrassment, and it's so fucking adorable that I don't really care that I was just annoyed.

So I tell him, "Sure. Why not?"

"Really?"

"Yeah... Besides, Lord knows I haven't gone out for dinner in a long time."

The doctor is relieved, a smile creeping up on his lips that suddenly tugs at my insides and makes me wish for a second that it really is a date he's offering... "Okay, good. Do you want to meet at Waterstone, seven o'clock?"

The excitement starts to drain from me as he says it, followed by an incoming wave of embarrassment. "Oh, man, that... That place is kind of expensive, I don't—"

"Oh, it's okay, I'll pay for everything. I'll even wait outside for you so we can go in together if you'd like..."

Why he's being so nice to me I have no idea, but it's making my annoyance melt and my heart start to beat faster, and I really don't know how to feel about that. In fact I'm pretty sure it's weird as fuck given the circumstances.

But all I have to do is make it through this weekend, hopefully all will be back to normal, and I won't ever have to think about it ever again.

"Alright... It's a date."

———

Out of all the scenarios I'd pictured for the end of the night, this definitely had not been one of them.

I finished my shift at the diner, imagining on my drive home the look on his face when I inevitably showed up with something on my face or stained on my dress; Instead I showed up to Waterstone and was greeted with wandering eyes and showered with bashful compliments.

I expected to get into some type of argument about how each of our kids were better than the other or something, but we ended up talking through their traits with compassion, interest, and pride, all while agreeing that we just have to sit with them this weekend and explain that there are easier, better ways to sort out disagreements than screaming at each other in public.

I expected not to have much fun at all, but by the time we gathered the check and headed out the door, Spencer and I were laughing, just a little tipsy on Cabernet, our hands gently brushing and sparks shooting up my arm at the feeling.

I expected to go our separate ways and walk to my car and drive home, but instead he ended up telling me he was taking the Subway home, and I offered to give him a ride to the opposite side of town where I lived (Waterstone was right in the middle).

I expected to walk through the door, stumble straight up to bed, and sleep until Sky inevitably woke me up with them saying I've slept in too late and needed to get ready for work, but instead I ended up following Spencer up to his door to say goodnight.

And now we're at a fork in the road, and I can take one of two paths.

I can say goodnight, watch him walk in, and then go home and forget about this whole thing.

Or I can keep letting him stare at me until I find myself leaning in to kiss him. Whether or not he'll actually reciprocate is another story, but the little bit of wine tingling in the surface of my body and the dark, intense look in his eye gives me more courage than I've had since I met him.

Before I can make a move, Spencer talks, his voice small and inviting. "Do you want to come inside?" The beating of my heart quickens immensely as he takes another step forward and brings his fingers out to graze my chin. "Vivian's with her mom tonight."

Yes. Vivian's mom, who divorced Spencer pretty soon in the marriage after she just decided his job was too much to handle. He'd quit and took a teaching job, but even still, she declined his pleading to stay married and eventually admitted that she just wasn't in love with him anymore. At least she had the decency to let him have joint custody once his schedule cleared up, and it seemed like they were decent co-parents. Maybe even friends.

I think about Sky, how much they wish their dad had stayed, and how much I wish he had too. I was devastated when he left without anything more than a note. For years it took a huge toll on us, and I barely had the headspace to even think about dating anyone since then.

But here I am now, standing with this man who has also lost a spouse, who's somewhat of a single parent, and who seems kind and genuine enough that I don't think I'd have to worry about bringing him into the life of my child.

Though, I don't even know it'll go that far. I'm getting too far ahead of myself, and so to slow down I look at what's right in front of me. Right now.

Spencer looks at me like he wants to devour me. My whole body is tingling from head to toe. I want to kiss him, and I'm pretty damn sure he wants to kiss me back. He just invited me inside, which means that if I accept, we'll most likely end up sleeping with each other.

Again... Definitely not one of the scenarios I'd had in mind when I left the school today. But it's a damn good one, and he's so hot I want to cry.

My flirty switch turns on so fast, it nearly gives me whiplash. "And what are you gonna do if I say yes?"

"Depends... How badly do you want to walk tomorrow?"

My first instinct is to jokingly tell him to put me in a wheelchair, but I settle for kissing him instead, hoping that gives the same sentiment.

The way he melts into my body tells me I've succeeded. My arms fly up to his neck and pull him closer, and he holds me tightly to him, waiting for my lips to part so he can expertly slip his tongue past them.

I whine out and take a step towards the door. Spencer comes with me and fumbles with the keys in his pocket before reluctantly pulling away to get us inside.

Once we take our jackets and shoes off, he clings to me like static, drawn to me like a magnet, and I let him near without a second thought. Our lips find each other perfectly, like they've always meant to fit together. And as pieces of clothing come off on our way through the house and up to his bedroom, our limbs fit together just as well. Nothing is out of place.

Hell, I don't even remember how inferior to him I felt earlier in the day. Our jobs and lifestyles might seem like polar opposites, but for right now, the two of us are on very equal footing, coming together like it's always been meant to be.

I nearly fall apart when his fingers gather wetness from my cunt, just enough to tease me before pulling away and bringing them to his lips. I watch with a whine waiting on the back of my tongue as he slips his fingers past his mouth and sighs.

"More," is all he manages, and I want so badly to tease him—tell him how I know he can be more eloquent than that—but words are all lost on me too, when he drops to his knees and spreads me apart with ease. I have no choice but to reach behind and grip the foot-end of the bed as he works his tongue expertly against me.

Each of my sighs and whines are met with more avidity from him, taking the form of sharp flicks of the tongue over my clit, and once he adds his fingers to the mix, pumping them expertly inside me, I'm a fucking goner.

I come with a silent shout, clenching my thighs around his face and gripping the foot of the bed so tightly it feels like my hands might go numb.

Once my body loosens, Spencer gets up and kisses me, nearly knocking me over. I'm breathless and dizzy as the tang of my arousal coats my tastebuds. His hands are gentle despite the hunger in his lips, and the medley of sensations of all of these things has me weak in the knees.

"Getting harder to stand already, sweetheart?" he laughs, catching me as I fall into him. His hands clutch at my thighs and he carries me to the edge of the bed, crawling over top of me and kissing down my neck. "That's okay... I'll take good care of you."

I still can't manage to speak as he gently pushes in, the slow burn of him splitting me in two rendering me utterly incapable of even thought. I gladly welcome the pressure, especially once he's inside me all the way and lowering his body to mine. Our chests press firmly together as he pulls back and starts a steady pace with his hips. He traps me with his arms, bringing them to either side of my face. And when his fingers brush the hair from my eyes, he stares into them with intensity as he fucks me.

It's slow and hard. It's heart-pounding. It's earth-shattering. It's everything that makes sex worth having. In that moment we're two equals, so wrapped up in the mere feeling of each other that everything else is just background noise. He breathes me in and I do the same, and with each cant forward of his hips, he brings me deeper into this world we've both ultimately created together.

I want more than anything to wrap my legs around him and keep him close to me, but he's fucking me so good that I don't have the willpower. Instead, they lay spread out, lazy and open as his hips move between them. I'm warm all over, tingling everywhere our skin connects. When he kisses me, swallowing my pathetic attempts at whimpering his name, I'm positive that this is what Heaven must feel like.

Whether it's hours or only minutes later, eventually my body tenses, unable to hold back any further, and two particularly deep thrusts from Spencer send me barreling over the edge.

"There it is, sweetheart..." he praises, caressing my face with long, gentle fingers and leaving little kisses wherever they trail. His voice only seems to help me along, each warm syllable soothing the muscles that pulled taut at his mercy. "That's a good girl..."

I feel tired, calmed, and relaxed, when he pulls out only to jerk off over my lower stomach. Through tired eyes, I watch as he lets go and covers me with his release. Hearing him grunt out my name as he does it nearly wakes me up again, and it even finally brings some words out of me.

"God, you're so fucking hot..."

Well... Not exactly elegant, but the feeling gets across.

Spencer laughs and rolls over so that he isn't nearly crushing me anymore. He kisses down my neck, my arm, and he ever-so-slightly swipes the tip of his tongue over the mess he made before kissing my thigh and getting up to leave— presumably to get me something to clean up with.

Sure enough, he returns shortly with a wet washcloth and tenderly cleans me up. I manage to sit, leaning back on my elbows once he's done and smile at him. He's practically kneeling in front of me again, smiling back as his lips press featherlight kisses to the inside of my leg.

"How're you feeling?" he drawls, letting me pull him up to lay down with me.

"Really good. I haven't done that in so long..."

"Me either... I um... I hadn't really thought much about seeing other people once Lena and I got divorced... I guess I just wanted to put all my focus into being the best father I could, you know?"

"Mhm," I answer, turning to face him and interlocking our fingers. "I know exactly what you mean."

We lay like that for a few moments in comfortable silence, hands and limbs tangled while we breathe the same air and revel in the afterglow we've just created.

Suddenly Spencer laughs, and I squeeze his hand. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking... We probably wouldn't have met if not for Anteros calling us in, right?"

"Yeah..." I piece it together. "Guess I never thought of it that way."

"I just think it's funny, because in Greek mythology, Anteros was an Erote, known as an avenger of unrequited love, and he punished those who scoffed at romantic advances made by others... You and I never even thought about dating after our separations, and yet... Here we are now, because of Anteros."

Hearing him educate me on Greek mythology only serves to remind me how different we are. Still, the little story brings a comforting smile to my lips. "Well... Remind me to send her a basket of muffins or something to thank her."

"And tell her what? That you're grateful she got you laid?"

"Yeah. And what about it?"

The two of us dissolve into laughter that eventually fizzles and leaves us silent again. Our fingers are still tangled, and somehow we've snuggled in even closer.

"In any case, I'm glad I got to meet you, Doctor Reid."

"And I, you, Ms. Y/L/N..."

———

In the past two weeks since that first meeting, I hadn't received any more phone calls from Principal Anteros, which bode as a good sign.

Spencer and I decided to see each other as secretly as we could, which meant only giving vague details to our kids as to what we were doing in our spare time— It seemed weird to spring it on them if they didn't get along, so we figured it was best to wait until the situation was handled.

I tried to talk to Sky about their progress with Vivian, but they only insisted that everything was fine and they wouldn't have to worry anymore. And after relaying this information to Spencer, he informed me that Viv had said the same thing to him.

It wasn't until we both realized that they'd said the same things verbatim each time we asked, that something odd was going on.

And that's how we end up right here, Sky and I sitting on a park bench bathed in the golden October sun while I patiently wait for Spencer to 'coincidentally' show up with Vivian.

Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, because almost five minutes after we sit, I hear the familiar sound of my name falling from his lips, and it's hard to contain the cocky, playful smile that appears upon my own.

"Spencer, hey!" I call back, standing up and going to give him a hug. He pulls me in and he's nice and warm. He smells like burnt wood for some reason, and I want to breathe him in forever. Instead, I settle for a sweet kiss on the lips, both because I simply want to and also because it should baffle the fuck out of our kids.

Sure enough we pull away and look to them, and they look panicked. They have no idea what to do, what to say...

"Oh! Sorry... Viv, this is Y/N, Sky's mom."

The pure amusement in Spencer's voice makes me feel even warmer than being in his embrace. I look to his daughter and give her a wave. "Hi."

"H—Hi..."

It almost seems cruel to laugh at their predicament, but as I turn to Sky and introduce them to Spencer, they have clear annoyance written all over their face.

"Okay, Mom, I think we get it... How did you guys figure it out?"

"What, that you two pretended to hate each other so your principal would have to call us both in to meet?"

The pre-teens look at each other and sigh, truly defeated once and for all. "Yeah," they mutter simultaneously.

"Well, it surely didn't make any sense when you got in trouble for yelling at each other in the first place," Spencer points out. "And then when we asked you how things were working out, you both said the same exact thing..."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out, but we appreciate the effort," I add, reaching out to ruffle Sky's hair. They jerk away playfully, and I can't help but notice their smile as they peek over at Vivian.

"Our plan worked, though, so I call it a win," Vivian says with a shrug.

"As long as you two don't plan on causing any more disruptions at school..." Spencer looks between the both of them, and then at me, his eyes softening as he takes my hand and squeezes it. "Then yes. I'd call it a win, too."

I lean into him and laugh. "Turns out it wasn't Greek mythology that brought us together. It was The Parent Trap."

He raises an eyebrow, like he doesn't get what I mean, and before I can ask or explain, Vivian does it for me. "He's never seen it."

Spencer looks between the three of us like a lost and confused puppy, and we all laugh.

"Well, then, maybe we'll have to have a movie night sometime soon," I offer, reaching out for Sky.

Hand in hand, the four of us continue down the pathway, walking away from the setting sun while dried leaves rustle under our feet.

———

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[spideykaiparker]

Not Your Average Field trip

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Field trip trope

warning(s) : slight smut, fluff

summary : peter's decathlon team are going on a field trip to Stark Industries, but peter wasn't allowed to go, long story short, they bumped into peter in the hallway, catching peter in a slight compromising situation.

author's note : okay, so this is my second peter parker fanfic, this is your typical peter parker field trip trope but with a slight twist, i had this idea for a while, so i hope you like it! it's okay if you don't, cause i just wrote this for my own entertainment, hehe. english is not my first language, so sorry if there's any grammar or spelling mistakes.

I'm really sorry if it's bad, but i promise it gets better along the way!

anyways, happy reading! ^_^

it was noisy in the decathlon room, Mr. Harrington was in the principal's office because apparently there's some big news for the team.

about 45 minutes later, Mr. Harrington came back to the room with a bunch of papers, wearing an excited face. immediately all of the noise stopped and the focus was on Mr. Harrington.

"okay everyone, i have some exciting news here" Mr. Harrington said, practically shaking because he couldn't contain his excitement. "we're going to Stark Industries on Friday!" he continued with a huge grin.

"what?!"

"how?"

"we're going where?"

all of peter's decathlon teammates were freaking out, excited by the news, but peter, he was freaking out because of the fact that they were going to his work place.

but then again, his teammates except ned and mj doesn't even believe that peter got an internship at Stark Industries, they think that he's lying about his internship, hell, even some of his teachers doesn't believe him, even if he already gave them the legal documents, they still won't believe him, saying that he's forging the documents. where in reality, he really got an internship. Mr. Stark has gave him a real internship seeing as he's really intelligent, some might even say he's on par with Tony Stark himself. Mr. Stark made him his personal intern, but he could still work with the other interns.

"okay calm down everybody, I'm going to hand out these forms for your parents or guardians to sign, make sure to hand it in to me on thursday" Mr. Harrington explained while handing out the forms, still a bit excited himself.

"okay you may go now"

just as peter was heading out, Mr. Harrington called him over. "pete can you come here for a second" he said while gesturing with his hand for peter to come over.

"yes Mr. Harrington? is anything wrong?"

"ah yes, unfortunately, because some of the teachers don't believe that you really have an internship at Starks Industries, they decided to not let you go, they said that your lying has gone too far, and should be punished for it, therefore you can't come on the field trip"

"what? but I'm not lying, Mr. Harrington" peter questioned, a bit hurt that his teachers don't even believe him, but also a bit relieved, because he wouldn't have to go on a field trip to his own work place.

"i know you're not pete, but unfortunately the other teachers don't think so, but you can just stay at home instead of going to school" Mr. Harrington explained, feeling sorry for peter.

"okay, Mr. Harrington, thanks for informing me" peter said while walking outside.

peter went straight to Stark Industries after that, because May finally agreed for them to stay at Stark Industries after a lot of provoking from Mr. Stark.

once he arrived at Stark Industries, he went straight up to the living quarters, more specifically to Y/N stark's room, without needing to scan his badge because the employees there already knows him.

when he reached the top he went straight to Y/N's room, only to see her sleeping in front of her desk with a bunch of unfinished projects that she's working on.

smiling at the sight, peter slowly made his way to Y/N, picking her up gently, and carrying her to her bed, then getting inside under the covers himself. Y/N automatically snuggled closer to peter, feeling his warmth, inhaling his familiar scent.

"mm.. you're back" Y/N said while rubbing her face in peter's sweatshirt like a cat.

"yeah i just got back, baby" peter replied while stroking the back of her head, smiling down at her.

"what time is it?" Y/N questioned whilst rubbing her eyes.

"uhh, i think it's a little past four pm"

"let's head to the kitchen, I'm hungryy" Y/N suggested while slowly getting up from the bed, still gaining consciousness.

~

once they reached the kitchen, Y/N sat down on the counter, while peter made a sandwich for both of them.

Y/N, who was still a bit drowsy from sleep, noticed the sad look on peter's face while he was making a sandwich. she made her way to peter, hugging him from the back, resting her chin on his shoulder, but can't quite reach it because of the slight height difference. so she opted to just snuggle her face on the back of his right shoulder.

"is everything okay?" she questioned, tightening her grip around his waist.

"yeah.. it's just- i was supposed to go on a field trip here on friday, but the teachers wouldn't let me go because they think I'm lying about my internship" peter answered with a frown.

"what? how could they, they can't just do that, you gave them the documents, proof that you're really an intern here" Y/N said with anger clear in her voice, hugging peter a bit tighter.

"i know, but they think that I'm forging the documents" peter answered with a defeated look on his face.

"let's go talk to my dad, I'm sure he'll do something about it"

"no, it's okay, i don't care if they don't believe me, it's fine if i don't go on the field trip, i literally live here, why would i want to go on a field trip to my own home" peter retaliated

"but still—" she got cut off by peter turning around in her hold, hugging her back, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"it's fine, Y/N, I'm okay" he said with a small smile.

still a bit mad, Y/N just nodded her head with a small pout, resting her head on his chest, hugging him tighter.

peter laughed at her cuteness, resting his head on top of her's in return, rubbing the back of her head lovingly.

they spent the rest of the day watching netflix, talking about random stuff, just enjoying each others company.

~

thursday, they were supposed to hand in their forms to Mr. Harrington, and while his teammates excitedly talked about going to Stark Industries, peter was just resting his head on the table, waiting for the day to go by. ned offered to not go on the field trip and just hang out with peter, but peter couldn't do that to ned, so he insisted for ned to go the field trip.

peter just couldn't wait to go home, flash has been taunting him every second about his internship, saying that he couldn't wait to prove to the whole school that penis parker is lying about his internship.

"why the sour face, parker? scared that your fake internship would be exposed?" flash taunted.

peter didn't reply, instead he just buried his head in his arms, wishing for this to all be over so he could head home and cuddle with Y/N.

"not answering, are we? afraid that I'm right?" flash continued taunting peter with a smirk.

"just leave me alone, flash" peter answered, with a tired look.

"tch, fine, I'm going to prove everyone I'm right tommorow anyways"

"whatever you say, flash" peter said while rolling his eyes.

when it was time to go home, peter practically sprinted out of the room, can't wait any longer to go home and spend time with Y/N.

~

when he reached the tower, he went straight to Y/N's room, finding her working on a project she's been working on for weeks.

"oh peter, you're here" Y/N said, getting up from her desk and immediately hugging peter.

peter hugged her back tightly, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her comforting scent, immediately forgetting about today's events.

~

when nighttime came, they laid on the bed, talking about each other's days. but peter got distracted by the way her lips move, thinking about how her lips wrapped around him, taking in his entire length in her mouth, teasingly playing with the head with her tongue.

"—pete? are you listening?" she asked with a slight smirk. she knows that peter has been staring at her lips for a quite while, she could practically see what he was imagining in his mind.

"huh? y-yeah? what?" peter breaks out of his trance, looking into her eyes that held a mishchievious glint.

"i said, were you listening?" she asked with an innocent look.

"y-yeah, i was" peter stuttered back.

"really? i could've sworn you've been looking at my lips for a while then" she climbed onto his lap "probably imagining how it would look wrapped around your pretty cock, aren't you? how i would lick the head like a lollipop, or how i would take you whole, slowly rubbing your thighs.." she trailed off, kissing his neck, running one of her hand down his chest, resting it on his growing bulge.

peter gulped, looking up at her with doe eyes, gripping her waist tightly.

"i know you said that you're fine about the field trip peter, but i could see the look on your face everytime someone mentions it, so, let me take care of you, okay?" Y/N said, slowly rubbing his growing erection through the material of his pants. she tugged on his shirt signaling him to take of his shirt, he did it almost immediately.

she got off him, only to go down in front of his erection, slowly unbuttoning his pants, sliding it down his legs, leaving his boxer briefs behind.

she kissed the insides of his thighs, leaving bite marks on her way, slowly making her way to his clothed erection.

she rubbed him through the material of his briefs, teasing him while kissing his stomach and hips continuing to leave marks.

peter couldn't contain his moans, he threw his head back moaning loudly not caring if anybody hears, gripping the bed sheets, he couldn't wait for Y/N to finally wrap her lips around him.

Y/N went up in fornt of his face, kissing him roughly, still rubbing her hand up and down his shaft. then slowly making her way down, kissing his neck, leaving marks, going down to his chest.

she wrapped her lips around one of his nipples, swirling her tongue around it, slightly biting it, while her free hand went to his other nipple, pinching it slightly with her index and thumb, occasionally switching to rolling it with her thumb.

peter was absolutely losing it, the feeling of her lips around his nipples, combined with her hand slowly rubbing his hard on. he feels as if he's going to explode if she doesn't put him in her mouth immediately.

she then continued her way down, hooking her fingers around the waistband of his briefs, finally letting it out of its confinement. his member sprung up hitting his lower abdomen, precum leaking out of the pink tip, twitching when she wrapped her hand around it.

she slowly moved her hand up and down his hard shaft, her thumb gently pressing down on the head, immediately getting a loud moan out of him.

she leaned a bit, giving small kitten licks on the head, then finally wrapping her lips around the head first, swirling her tongue around it, then slowly went down further, until her nose brushed against the base. one of her hand playing with his balls, kneading it.

peter moaned loudly, throwing his head back, one of his hand making its way to her hair gripping it tightly, guiding her head to move up and down. peter couldn't hold his hips back from thrusting into her mouth roughly, hitting the back of her throat.

this slightly surprised Y/N, choking her slightly, but doing her best to keep up with his pace.

his thrusts becoming sloppy, his member twitching inside her mouth, indicating her that he was about to cum.

"i-i'm cumming" peter said, eyes closed, his thrusts becoming even more sloppy.

with a few more thrusts, he came inside her mouth, she removed herself from him, swallowing his load, helping him with his high, running her hand up and down his shaft, with some of the cum going onto her face.

when he was done, they were both panting, looking into each others eyes with blush coating both of their faces.

he leaned down and kissed her, slightly tasting himself on her tongue. the kiss was slow, and passionate, opposite of their kiss earlier.

they pulled back and smiled at each other, until peter remember something.

"wait, i didn't get to return the favor"

"it's fine peter, i told you i was the one who's taking care of you today, you can make it up to me some other time, okay?" she said, cupping his cheeks with her hands, kissing his lips one more time.

"okay..."

"okay, I'm going to wash my face now, then we can go to sleep" she said once again, while getting up from the bed heading to the bathroom. peter just wore his briefs, too tired to do anything else.

once she was done, they cuddled the rest of the night, with her head on his chest, her arm wrapped around his neck, and one of her leg was thrown over his thighs, while his arms wrapped themselves around her waist, burying his head in her hair.

~

the next morning, they woke up around 10.30 a.m, because of last nights... events. after they woke up, they decided to stay a little longer in bed, just talking, maybe sneaking in some kisses in between. they were both too distracted by each other that they forgot it was friday, a.k.a the day when peter's decathlon team have a field trip to Stark Industries.

~

the decathlon team arrived not too long ago. usually, Stark Industries doesn't allow school field trips to go higher than the general labs. but, their tour guide, harley keener, was specifically instructed by Tony Stark himself to allow them to go to the higher levels, where tony's and bruce's labs were at. but not only that, that's also where the avengers living quarters, common rooms, and training room/gym were at. just so he can prove everyone that peter is not lying.

"okay, so just a reminder, you are not allowed to touch or take anything from here" harley informed the team while walking down the hallway after going out of the elevator.

"so as you can see, these are some of the avenger's rooms, each of their names are labeled on the door"

the team was in awe with everything, they couldn't believe that they were allowed to go to the higher levels.

"woah is that Y/N stark's room?!" one of the kid's exclaimed.

just as they were about to pass Y/N's room, the door suddenly opened, and out comes peter, only wearing some gray sweatpants, his neck and bare chest littered with hickeys, and Y/N with an oversized t-shirt —probably peter's, with some short's that almost covered by the t-shirt. "yeah i was thinking about pancakes—"

"—peter?"

"—Y/N Stark?"

the decathlon team's mouths hang wide open shocked by the scene infront of them, even ned, mj was slightly surprised but didn't showed it. they couldn't believe that penis parker the nerd was coming out of Y/N Stark's room, shirtless, with hickeys littered around his torso, and has abs.

"huh?" they —peter and Y/N, turned their heads, and when they saw who made the noise, their eyes widened.

"harley! what are they doing here!, they aren't supposed to be here!" peter exclaimed, covering his chest, standing behind Y/N.

"i don't know man, Tony told me they were allowed to go here" harley answered with a shrug.

"but i see you had some fun last night" he continued with a huge smirk on his face.

peter blushed, wanting to just bury himself in the ground and forget this ever happened.

"peter! you really work here?" one of his teammates asked.

"well yeah, i did already told you guys, didn't i? you guys just didn't want to believe me"

"i believed you since the beginning, peter!" ned exclaimed happily.

"and thank you for that" peter smiled, still can't grasp the fact that this is actually happening, his teammates caught him coming out of Y/N's room, with him looking like that.

"peter! are you really dating Y/N stark?" one of his teammates asked again, wanting to know as much as possible about the situation right now.

"umm.." he paused, looking at Y/N, silently asking her if he should tell them, when Y/N nodded with a comforting smile, he continued, "yeah.."

hearing his answer, his teammates were once again shocked by the fact that peter was really dating Y/N.

"why?" a voice asked from the back, they all looked behind them, making way for the person to come forward. the person walked forwards confidently, with smug look on his face.

"why penis parker?" it was flash. once again not wanting for peter to have such a nice life.

"what did you just called him?" Y/N asked, daring him to call peter that again, her smile immediately turning into a scowl, eyes practically boring in flash's skull.

"penis parker, why him? out of all the people you could have, for example me" flash answered, still looking smug, but a slight fear crossed his eyes. his teammates were silently watching the scene unfold infront of them, slightly scared for flash, but also knowing that he deserves it.

"why, you ask? why not? he's smart, kind, selfless, caring, got a body to die for, a face that's cute and hot on the same time, i mean how is that even possible? he's perfect, he's everything you're not ever going to be.' Y/N answered, venom practically lacing every word she utters.

before flash can utter a word, she continued, "—you think you're perfect for me? have you looked at yourself? you think you're all that, flaunting all that money, but in reality, that's just your daddy's money" she said with a mocking pout, "but after this, are you sure you're still going to have money?, you better be scared for your dad, because after the stunt you just pulled here, I'm sure dad's going to take action about it. and before you say anything about me being a daddy's girl, having her dad take care of her problems, using all of her dad's money, no. unlike you, i actually help here, i actually earn the money that's been given to me, infact, most of the avengers gears were designed with the help of me." she ended, arms crossing infront of her chest, looking intimidatingly at flash, daring him to argue.

but flash couldn't even utter a single word, mouth opening and closing like a fish, embarrassed, not looking so confident now.

peter's teammates who were just observing, was also shocked by the words uttered by the Stark girl, feeling embarrassed for flash, and admiring her intimidating aura. peter looking at her with heart eyes, practically falling in love all over again with her.

when flash didn't utter a single word, she smirked, "so now that that's settled, peter and i are going to head on our way now, bye bye~" she waved her fingers with one hand, the other pulling peter away from his teammates.

"oh yeah, one more thing, you're all going to sign NDA'S to make sure, none of this is going to get out, if you were to even utter a single word about today to anyone, you better watch out because we are going to take action." she walked out, dragging peter with her, slightly swaying her hips, peter behind her looking at her with admiration.

his teammates were once again left shocked by the whole encounter, looking back at their retreating bodies with a new found astonishment.

it was silent for a second, then all of a sudden they all started freaking out, talking about the encounter.

"okay, so that happened, come on now let's continue the tour" harley cuts, silencing everyone.

~

peter and Y/N decided to have breakfast, or probably brunch, and then deciding to train for a while. they headed to the training room. they changed into their workout clothes, peter just wearing a tight t-shirt, kind of like the ones steve likes to wear, paired with some shorts, and Y/N wearing a sports bra, with some matching leggings on.

they continued sparring for a while, too distracted by each other, that they didn't realize that the decathlon team was once again at the door, watching them spar with each other with astonishment, still having the difficulty to grasp that penis parker was actually cool.

somehow, they ended up with peter being pinned down on the ground, with Y/N straddling him.

Y/N smirked, leaning down, her hands still bunched up around peter's collar, using that to slightly pull peter up, making him lean his body on his elbows, then kissing him. peter kissed back almost immediately, one of his hand coming around to grip her waist.

the decathlon team who was watching the scene unfold infront of them, was once again shocked.

"...okay, let's just leave them alone now." harley awkwardly suggested, ushering everyone out.

one by one, they left the training room with shocked looks on their faces, leaving peter and Y/N in their own worlds.

[broadstbroskis]

take my hand, wreck my plans | william nylander

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

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

word count: 21.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This was a setup?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aubrey grins. “Gladly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steph frowns back. “What?”

“What what?”

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

“Why would we?”

“Because he’s perfect for you?”

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

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

“No!”

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

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

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

-----

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

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

Aubrey gasps as Steph laughs. “Rude!”

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

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

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

hi mitch. She sends back.

lol. Comes the response. sorry.

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

time and fucking place. She replies.

-----

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

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

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

Will laughs. “So it’s like that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Should what?” Will frowns. 

“Give them a taste of their own medicine.”

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

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

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

-----

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

“What?” Steph repeats. “Seriously?”

Aubrey laughs. “Use your words, Stephanie.”

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

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

“I hate you so much.”

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

sure, what’s up?

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

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

“Of my office?” She blurts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So find a dress.” Aubrey sums up.

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

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

“Deal.” 

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That younger siblings are actual monsters.” 

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

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

“Shots fired.” Steph nudges him.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes! Coffee on the way?”

“Obviously!”

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ohh, me too!” Cam realizes.

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

-----

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

Kaylee shrugs. “I forgot to pack them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will’s here?”

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

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

“Hi.” She returns, smiling at him.

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

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

“Nope!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aubrey nods. “Yeah. Pretty good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pretty good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

Will Nylander: ….holy shit cam was serious

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

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

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

Will Nylander: haha what??

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

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

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

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

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

Will Nylander: i fucked up, sorry

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

“Well I was planning on wearing them!”

“Well you didn’t say that!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I never wear them together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“-we ate at this amazing sushi place-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.”

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

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

“Do you have an hour?” Will drawls.

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

“Any wine?”

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will laughs. “What?”

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair, it was definitely a risk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Supremely* comfortable. Told you so 😜

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um.” Will starts.

“Sorry.” Aub hastens, flushing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He raises an eyebrow. “You think so?”

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

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

It’s a rare gift.

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aub, we shouldn’t- we aren’t-”

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

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

-----

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

It’s really just unfair.

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

“Hi.” She smiles.

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

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

He groans. “I have to go. Skate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fastest skate ever.” He repeats.

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dumb jersey?” Will nudges her.

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

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

Mitch feigns gagging. “There are children around.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aubrey frowns. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if they stop hooking up.

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

“This is Aubrey.” Will introduces.

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

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

She loves them immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” Daniella says, unconvincingly.

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

“Seriously?” Will cries.

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

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

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

Will barks out a laugh. “Is she?”

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

Open. Come in. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he say it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

Something’s just off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi?” She says, a little annoyed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now she can’t even enjoy it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stephanie.” Aubrey frowns. 

“What?”

“I can’t do that!” Aubrey hisses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His brow furrows. “Like what?”

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” Will protests.

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

“Coffee’s still warm.” He says.

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

“Near the front door.”

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

Steph LaChance: i told you so 😉

[fanficimagery]

Five Years After

Imagine going to the feed store for your sister, only you come home with more than just feed for the animals.

Words: 5.1K Author’s Note: The ending of this imagine was definitely inspired by a TikTok video :)

When the Blip happened, you were in complete disbelief. Chaos erupted all around as planes fell from the sky and automobiles crashed because their drivers had vanished into thin air. Everyone was a complete mess as they attempted to call loved ones, their calls going straight to voicemail or being answered by another family member that were having to deliver the bad news of a disappearance.

Your only living relative was your sister Laura and her children she had with her husband Clint, so when one of your co-workers and a handful of your customers vanished into thin air, your first call had been to your ex-Avenger of a brother-in-law. Unfortunately Clint was just as clueless as you and the phone had nearly slipped from your hand when he gave you the news that Laura and the kids had vanished. You had nowhere to go and were so scared because of the looting that had started, so Clint told you to pack your things and get to the farm as soon as possible.

You'd only been on the farm for a full day before Clint's friends came looking for him. Natasha, who you had met after your sister had married Clint, greeted you with a rather solemn hug. It was Steve Rogers, however, who attempted to introduce himself with as much joy as he possibly could in order to be polite.

You had shaken his hand, smiling sadly. "You don't need to force a smile for me, Rogers. The circumstances suck. I get it."

That had surprisingly pulled a short laugh from Natasha. "See, Steve? Told you she wouldn't be expecting the Man with a Plan."

Steve and Natasha had proceeded to stay for the duration of the day, telling Clint all about a fight that had taken place in Wakanda and who out of their friends had vanished. It was a devastating blow and you had no idea how everyone was going to cope. Then soon after the two Avengers had left, Clint went into overdrive. He was making phone calls left and right, packing bags and weapons, and you were at a complete loss.

You had decided to leave him be and it was only the following morning when you woke to an empty house did you find the letter on the kitchen counter. In the letter he had apologized for leaving you after everything that had happened, but went on to explain that there were criminals still out there who had survived the Blip when others who were sin-free didn't. He couldn't leave them be while people like his wife and children were no longer alive, so to work through his aggression he was going to hunt those criminals down. Fortunately enough, he left you in possession of the farm-house and made it so you were able to access his bank accounts. He told you not to look for him or get the others involved, so you waited a whole day before contacting Natasha and telling her all about Clint's derailment.

Clint left no trail, leaving you all alone. Or so you thought.

With Clint's vanishing act, Natasha and Steve made you their responsibility. They made sure you knew they were only a call or email away, but only after Nat drove down to give you some technological devices since the regular power grid was fluctuating. Since Earth lost half its population, everything seemed to be falling apart.

Then Tony Stark was brought back home and the world seemed a little bit brighter.

For years you drifted, working at a grocery store in town to keep yourself busy. The Blip took a toll on everyone, but it was nice to have to talk to someone even if the other person moved on autopilot. Clint sent an email every other month from a burner email, so it was a dead end every time Natasha looked into it after you had forwarded it to her. And about the only news-worthy thing that had happened after the Blip was the announcement of Tony and Pepper Stark's baby girl Morgan. You didn't know the Stark's personally, but it didn't stop you from sending their little girl a present every year on her birthday for the next five years on behalf of yourself and the Barton family.

One morning you're sitting at the breakfast table when you hear the telltale sounds of a jet overheard. You figure it's just Natasha and Steve for their monthly check-in so you think nothing of it.

The screen door creaks open and you call out, "In the kitchen!"

The steps of what sounds like more than one person falter, but then they pick back up until they near your location. "Got enough for another plate?" That oh so familiar timber makes you spew orange juice across the table. You're up and out of your seat, staring at your brother-in-law who's a lot more tatted up than you remember him being. "Hey, sis."

Tony Stark stands just a couple feet to Clint's right, but his presence isn't enough to deter you from marching up to your brother-in-law and punching his shoulder. "You asshole!" You punch him again for good measure as tears sting your eyes. "You left me. You left me all alone! How could you-"

He dodges your continuous blows, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from attacking him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but I'm here now. It's all going to be okay." The fight instantly drains out of you as you sag into his embrace, sob after sob leaving you as you clutch to him tightly.

Clint tightens his grip a little more around you until your cries turn into sniffles. "What- what are you doing here?"

"Lang came up with a plan to bring our people back." You tense in Clint's arms and pull back to look him in the eyes. "Banner and Stark made the machines necessary to make the plan work. We're going to bring 'em home. We're going to bring 'em all home, Y/N."

"Please tell me you aren't joking," you mumble.

"Nope. No joke," Tony says. "It's not a total guarantee, but we're going to try our best." You let go of Clint and turn to look at Tony who's standing by the stove and picking at the leftover scrambled eggs. "Mmm. These are good. What'd you put in them?"

"Uhh, just butter and cheese."

"Morgan would absolutely love these. She's on this whole cheese kick right now."

That earns a chuckle, and after gathering yourself you look back at Clint. "So what's going to happen now?"

"The team's getting ready for a test run," Clint says. "I just wanted to let you know I was home and that we had a really important mission coming up."

"How soon?"

"Today if the test run goes good," Tony says. He pours himself half a glass of juice before downing it in one go. "And speaking of, we need to go."

You look at Clint, a little let down that he's leaving so soon, but he grins and pulls you back into a hug. "It's going to be okay." You nod against him and he lets his arms drop before he steps back. He looks around the kitchen and his grin widens. "You've kept up good with the house. I'm impressed."

"I should hope so," you mumble. "I had to flirt with the hardware store boy so he'd help me keep the house from falling apart."

Clint laughs. "You did good, Y/N. Laura will be proud."

"Yeah, yeah. Now go bring my sister, niece, and nephews back."

"You got it, boss."

          - - - - - - - - - - 

You're grateful for the day off because it leaves you with time to clean the house from top to bottom. You need some way to burn off all your anxiousness and making sure the house looks good for your sister is one hell of a way to do just that.

You're not sure how long you'd been cleaning when you decide to take a break, and you head outside for some fresh air. You walk off the porch and onto the grass, tilting your face skyward as you inhale and exhale softly, your eyes closing. One moment all you can hear is the wind ruffling tree limbs and grass, and the next it's a cacophony of chirping birds.

Your eyes fly open and you're shocked to see the swarms of birds flying around in the sky. Sure there have been birds around after the Blip, but you've never seen so many together since then. You're too busy staring up into the sky that you don't see what appears to be ash take formation behind you.

"Aunt Y/N?" The timid voice makes your heart stop before you whirl around, your eyes widening at the sight of Lila glancing around in shock. "What's going on? Where's dad?"

"Lila?" You breathe out in awe. You stumble towards her, eyes glistening with tears. "They did it. They actually did it." You pull her into a hug, cries stuttering in your chest. As you hug her, you glance towards the open field where you see Laura appear, followed by Nathaniel and then Cooper. "Laura!"

You grip Lila's hand tight as the both of you break out into a run towards the rest of your family, you and Laura colliding with twin oomphs. The two of you are crying as Laura tries to work out what the hell happened and where Clint is, but before you can explain anything she's pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing Clint's number. As she worries about getting her husband on the phone, you quickly hug Cooper and pick up Nathaniel to hold on your hip as you squeeze him in relief.

"Clint?" Laura sobs when he finally answers. "Clint, what's going on? I-" She stops talking all of a sudden and she looks at you, eyes wide.

"What happened?" You ask.

"I- I don't know. One second he was talking and then-" She cuts off, glancing at her children and shaking her head. "He just cut out."

You know all is not fine and that something terrible must have happened for Laura to trail off the way she did. But instead of worrying her kids, you offer a grin. "I'm sure it's fine. As clumsy as he is, he probably just dropped his phone." She forces a smile for her kids' benefit. "So why don't we go ahead and wait for him inside. I'll make something to eat while you guys relax and I'll catch you up on the five years you missed."

"Five years!?" Laura nearly shouts.

You wince. "Yeah. You guys missed a lot."

          - - - - - - - - - - 

For the next couple of hours you tell Laura all about the Blip and how half of Earth's population just disappeared- Avengers included. You tell her how Clint had you move in, and how you helped take care of the house and what few animals they had on the farm still while working at the local grocery store. You tell her all about Steve and Natasha, and how Tony Stark is now married with a daughter of his own.

"Wow." Laura chuckles. All the kids have fallen asleep around the living room, leaving Laura the time to finally ask, "And where was Clint this entire time? I noticed he brought you onto the farm, but then everything became about Steve and Nat."

You suck in a breath sharply. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice that."

"Y/N.."

"He went rogue." Her eyes widen and you wince. "He left me here with access to your bank account, which I only used to pay bills and buy groceries by the way, and not even Natasha could find him. He only came back when she tracked him down and told him there was a chance they could reverse the Blip."

"Oh Clint.." She sighs, shaking her head in disappointment.

The sound of a quinjet hovering makes you and Laura perk up, but you keep quiet so as to not wake the children. You and Laura meet each other's gazes before you carefully get up and tiptoe out of the living room, and then you're rushing out the front door and down onto the lawn.

The door drops down and then Laura is sprinting across the field to reach her husband. You joyously laugh, jogging over to catch up. But as Laura and Clint hug one another, sobbing, you turn your sights to Steve who's standing sheepishly off to the side. There are two others with him, but since you've yet to meet them you make your way towards the familiar.

"Hey Rogers. Good to see you in one piece."

He tiredly chuckles. "Y/N." You punch his arm and he opens them up so you can hug him. "How are you holding up?"

"Better now that I got my sister back," you muse. As you pull away, you glance behind him into the quinjet. "Hey, where's Natasha?" Steve's smile falls and your heart plummets into your stomach. You can practically read the answer in his eyes. "No.." You shake your head.

His breathing stutters before he clears his throat. "We, uh, we lost Tony too."

Your expression completely crumples then, but Steve is quick to pull you back into a hug. He lets you cry into his chest before Clint steals you away, and then you're crying into your brother-in-law's shoulder. Then once all the tears taper off, Steve introduces you and Laura to Wanda and Bucky.

"I'll be in contact with you about what Pepper decides to do," Steve tells Clint. "If you do anything for Nat, let me know."

Clint sniffles. "I will."

You, Clint, and Laura wave off Steve, Wanda, and Bucky as they return inside the quinjet and lift off.

"Come on," Clint then sighs. "I need to see the kids and then figure out a way to tell them all about auntie Nat's sacrifice."

"And plan a memorial," Laura says.

You frown. "This was not the homecoming I was hoping for."

After a few days of planning, Clint decides on a cookout with all the Avengers and close friends of Nat's invited. It was a couple of days before Tony's own memorial, so you were surprised when Pepper Stark showed up with Morgan in tow. You were happy to finally meet the young girl who you'd been sending gifts to and you gladly ended up on babysitting duty.

You had met more of Clint's ex-coworkers, but your attention always ended up back on the children. Then when it came time to say a few words on Natasha's behalf, you somehow ended up between Steve and Bucky as the children ran back to their respective parents with Steve tucking you into his side when the tears started.

Then when the day of Tony's memorial came, there were more guests than you had anticipated. So as Pepper and Morgan walked a small flower raft with an arc reactor replica on it and set it out on the water, you stood back with Laura and her family and waited in silence. And as the crowd dispersed, you mostly kept to yourself until you saw Steve walk out of Pepper's home in the oddest white and red suit you'd ever seen.

Walking up behind Steve, you nod at Bucky and Sam who grin at your presence. When Steve turns around, you chuckle. "Why do I got a feeling you're about to do something very stupid?"

He grins and adjusts his grip on the suitcase hanging by his side. "Someone's gotta return the stones to their original timeline."

"Mhm. Well be careful. Don't start any unnecessary fights."

"I'll try my best."

As he walks up onto the platform, you step back and nudge your arm against Bucky's. He smiles down on you and you stand by his side as you listen to Bruce who walks Steve through about what's going to happen. Bruce checks all his monitors, giving Steve the go-ahead when everything is fine. Steve nods, a mask of sorts opens up and wraps around his face, and he presses a button that had been in his hand. Bruce counts down the seconds before he flips a switch which is meant to bring Steve back, but nothing happens.

Bruce looks around his monitors and starts pressing some more buttons. "Where is he?" Sam asks.

"I don't know. He blew right by his time stamp. He should be here," Bruce says as he flips a few more switches.

Bucky sighs and you quickly glance at him, and he looks more resigned than anything as he turns to walk off.

Your attention goes to Bruce as your heart rate picks up. "Get him back."

"I'm trying."

"Get him the hell back!" Sam urges.

You and Sam are low-key panicking, but it's Bucky's calm voice that stops the both of you. "Y/N. Sam."

The two of you whirl around, gazes sliding towards where Bucky is staring off to. In the distance, on a stone bench by the water, there appears to be a man sitting there that wasn't there before. You and Sam stumble forward, and you squint your eyes, only to glance back at Bucky with wide eyes.

"Is that.."

"Go."

You share another look with Sam and he gestures for you to follow him. The two of you walk towards the man together and Sam stops just behind him as you walk around in front. When you get a good look at your friend who is way older than what he appeared to be a mere twenty seconds ago, your heart cracks just a little.

You try to force a smile, but it wobbles as an elderly Steve chuckles at you. "I'm really trying not to be so mad at you right now." Your voice cracks and he pats the spot next to him as you sniffle. You immediately sit next to him and take his left hand within your own two, a gleaming wedding band not going unnoticed. Your fingers trace it. "Was it at least a happy life?"

Steve pats your hand. "It was. It was the beautiful life I always dreamt of."

You take a moment for yourself, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "You know you were my complete impulse control, right? Who's going to stop me from trying to get into your best friend's pants now?"

There's a snort from behind you, but you don't bother giving Sam your attention. "Go easy on him," Steve tells you. "I'm not sure he even remembers how to flirt."

You grin as you lean your head on his shoulder. "I'm really going to miss you," you say after a beat. Another moment passes before you drop Steve's hand and sigh before you stand. "Well, um, I should get back my sister and Clint now." You meet his gaze and flash him a small smile. "It's going to suck not seeing you every month, but I'm really glad you found your happiness."

"Thank you, Y/N."

Your bottom lip wobbles again. "Goodbye, Steve."

As you walk away, you hold your head up high and nod to Sam when he looks at you to make sure you're okay. You continue walking, nodding at Bucky as you pass him up as well when you see Laura wave you over. "For the record, I still remember how to flirt." You stumble and and then hear Bucky chuckling quietly behind you.

"Goddamn super soldiers and your dog ears."

As the days turn into weeks, Clint and Laura offer you a permanent place on the farm now that everything seems to be going back to normal. He's promised to build you a small house on the property for all that you've done in the past five years, so in the meantime you've taken to bunking with Lila while Wanda took over the guest bedroom. Clint had also taken to bringing Bucky to the farm when he noticed the super soldier not coping as well as he was letting on, so you found yourself often sitting by the back pond with him as the two of you traded stories about Steve and yourselves.

Though you had originally joked about getting into Bucky's pants, you found yourself seeking friendship from him more than anything else and vice versa. So when you weren't working at the grocery store, you were watching the kids for Laura and Clint or hanging out with Bucky and Wanda. It was no surprise to anyone that the three of you latched on to one another after losing those that you did.

"Hey Y/N," Laura calls out. "Will you do me favor?"

You glance up as she walks out the front door, you and Wanda ceasing your conversation. You grin. "What do you need?"

"Lucky needs some dog food and we need a few bales of hay for the goats."

"Oh. Okay." You look towards Wanda. "Wanna go for the ride?"

She shrugs. "Sure."

"Thank you! You can just put it on the Barton tab at the store," Laura says. "Clint pays it monthly and I've already called ahead to let them know someone was going in to pick up some stuff we needed."

"Got it." Standing up, you pat down your pockets to make sure you have your keys, phone, and some cash. Realizing you have everything, you grin at your sister before walking down the porch steps. As you near your truck, you whistle at Bucky who was throwing knives at a target on the side of the barn. "Hey Buckaroo! We're heading into town. You wanna come?"

He throws the last knife in his hand before he turns to look at you. "Don't call me Buckaroo!" He shouts back as he makes his way towards you.

"Then stop lookin' so darn cute!"

Wanda snorts and you laugh as Bucky shakes his head at you. "One of these days he's going to flirt back and then what are you going to do?"

"Bend myself over the table and let him hit it from behind," you mumble. She snorts harder this time and your eyes widen when you see Bucky start to smirk.

As he nears the two of you, he says, "What did you say?"

"Nothing," you blurt. "Nothing at all. Wanda's just easily amused, is all."

His gaze slides to Wanda, but she shakes her head and doesn't tell him a word. You mentally sigh and praise her for being a good friend, and then you turn to walk towards your truck. Wanda readily heads for the back driver's side door while Bucky walks around to the passenger seat so he's seated next to you.

Once you're seated behind the wheel and the engine is turned on, you take a moment to find a decent song on the radio before driving. It's not too long of a drive and you find yourself pulling up to the local feed store not even three songs later.

Parking and cutting the engine right in front of the store, you turn towards Bucky. You know he's not a huge fan of being out in public, but you rather not have to flirt inside the store to get a helping hand. "Hey Buck, can you do me a favor and load up four of those large rectangular bales of hay and one bag of that dog food right next to it?" You see him tense. "I rather not have to flirt with the boy inside just so he'll help out."

He relaxes then and gives you a nod. "Yeah. Sure."

"Thanks. Just keep watch through the window. Wait 'til I give the signal for you to start loading up." He gives you another nod and you turn around to face Wanda. "Wanna head inside with me?"

Wanda grins and readily opens her door, you and Bucky following right after. But as you and Wanda head inside, Bucky remains by the tailgate of your truck and keeps watch through the large front window as you had said. Inside, Mr. Reeves is waiting by the cash register and keeping an eye on Bucky outside.

"Don't worry, Mr. Reeves. He's with me." Mr. Reeves glances at you, smiling in relief. "I need four large bales of hay and a fifty pound bag of dog food."

Mr. Reeves starts punching buttons on his register. "Alright, sweetheart. Is that going to be all for you?"

"Sure is. Um, Laura asked if you can put it on the tab? Clint will be by at the end of the week."

"Sure thing." You turn towards the window and give Bucky a thumbs up. He turns to open the tailgate and then move towards the bales of hay to start loading up. Mr. Reeves chuckles. "That's a strong fella you got there."

His words make you blush and Wanda giggle, but you can't even reprimand your friend because she is further away than you expected. She's leaning over what appears to be a warming box, hand inside as she smiles down at something you can't see. "Whatcha got there, Red?"

Her smile widens as you hear small chirps. "Ducklings."

You walk over to her, peering inside and your heart absolutely melts. Inside are the cutest ducklings you've ever seen and you know you're done for when you set your hand down inside and one particular little duckling runs onto your palm.

Mr. Reeves walks over, chuckling. "They were hatched a few days ago. All have been looking mighty strong and are ready to go to good homes."

"How much?"

"Y/N," Wanda laughs. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking this little sucker with me." You pick up your hand, duckling still happily nestled in your palm as you cradle him to your chest and look at Mr. Reeves. "Any chance you have those small plastic kiddie pools?"

"As a matter of fact I do," he muses.

Wanda is giggling the entire time Mr. Reeves gets exactly what you need, you nuzzling the yellow fuzzball to your face. You pay with your own money and sadly hand over the duckling when Mr. Reeves has to box her up. You then carefully take the box from him as Wanda takes the kiddie pool, and you walk behind her as you make your way to the truck.

You have absolutely no regrets about buying the duckling, but you still hide the box as you walk around the truck and open the driver's door. Wanda shoves the kiddie pool into the back with her and Bucky turns so his gaze darts between the both of you- Wanda looking far too amused and you looking a little sheepish as you continue to stand outside the truck.

"What did you do?" He sighs.

"Well we went in to just buy the food," Wanda says, "but-"

"I bought a duck." You blurt. You finally put the box in front of you, on the seat, and you open the lid. The duckling chirps and you beam down at her, picking her up and nuzzling her once more. "I'm gonna name her Flauta." Bucky snorts and Wanda laughs uncontrollably then. "No one tell Laura."

"Gonna be hard to hide her, doll."

Bucky reaches over to take the duckling from you and the sight of him cradling it, holding it up to his face and smiling makes you melt once more. Wanda is staring knowingly at you, but you don't even have the urge to flip her off because you know you're fucked. Instead, you take your phone out of your back pocket and snap a picture.

"That's my new wallpaper."

Bucky doesn't bother admonishing you for taking the picture, so after setting it as your wallpaper you put your phone away and climb into your truck. He holds onto the duckling as you make the drive back to the farm, Wanda giggling every now and then when you glance at Bucky and sigh longingly.

When you make it back to the farm, Clint and Laura are on the porch as the kids play out in the yard. They both stand as you park, their expressions turning suspicious as Wanda hops out of the back with the kiddie pool in tow. You grin as you hurriedly hop out as well, leaving Bucky to carry the incriminating evidence.

You can tell he expected as much as he watches you jog around to his side of the truck, already pointing at him through the opened window. "Bucky bought a duck!"

He shakes his head at you and you blow him a kiss, Clint and Laura then joining you by the truck. "Oh really?" Your brother-in-law muses.

"Yep."

"Mhm." Clint looks to Bucky as Laura bites back a grin. "Buck, what's the duck's name?"

Without missing a beat, he says, "Flauta."

Laura finally laughs. "Nice try, Y/N." As Bucky and Wanda guess how Laura knew, she says, "When we were younger, Y/N did the same thing but with a turtle. She named him Taquito."

"And Taquito lived a long and happy life until we went off to college," you say. "Flauta will live just long, if not longer, here on the farm."

Clint chuckles and then takes the duckling from Bucky. He looks to Wanda and gestures for her to follow him. "Lets go get this little lady all set up. The kids are gonna have a blast."

Laura follows after them, but not before winking at you, and you shake your head as you're left alone with Bucky. He finally climbs out of the truck, shutting the door and then leaning against it. You nervously laugh as he smirks. "You threw me under the bus."

"I couldn't take the chance that they'd make me return Flauta." You pout. "I couldn't send her back, Buckaroo. I'd already named her."

He pushes off the truck, turning you around and laying his arm around your shoulders. For a moment you forget how to breathe. "You're just as bad as Steve."

"Oh whatever." You roll your eyes, grinning as your arm wraps around the back of his waist and start walking towards where Clint went. "Steve got you shot at. I momentarily put you in momma bear's crosshairs." He quietly chuckles. "And besides, I didn't hear you deny it. Admit it, Barnes, I'm growing on you."

"Like a fungus."

You pinch his side. "Oh fuck off." He fully laughs then. "Just you wait, Buckaroo. The day we decide to put sex on the list of things we should definitely be doing, I'm gonna withhold just because you're being an ass."

"You sure about that?" The teasing lilt to his voice suddenly makes you feel at unease. "You sure you won't immediately bend over the table and let me hit it from behind?"

Your face flames, but you can't help but laugh at your earlier words. When you manage to calm down, you can't help but say, "I hate you," as you finish making your way towards your family.

"Nice try, doll, but I'm calling bullshit."

[yeojaa]

( DEVIL IN A NEW SUIT. )

Money’s something that makes the world go around.  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with securing the bag.  You don’t shame anyone for doing what they need to do.  

That is, until you come face to face with the poor guy that’s being suckered out of both his heart and cash.  You simply can’t let it go on.

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.  idiots to lovers.  fluff, angst, smut.  the holy trifecta, babies!  explicit, obviously.  

tags / warnings.  mentions of infidelity, kook being adorable and sad, reader being a bit of a tactless butthole, a satin playsuit (very nsfw), kook does a 180, smut in the form of: a slight oral fixation, too much spit, overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (pls don’t be irresponsible).

wc.  12.2k of nonsense.  pure nonsense, i tells ya. 

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ did what she always does aka read through this and made me a better writer and @yeoldontknow​ dealt with my big dumbass and let me cry about my pea brain to her.  i love you both sm!!!  ✨💜

author note.  the long-awaited fic is here!!  i really hope you enjoy it.  if you do, please maybe leave a comment or something?  i swung back and forth between loving and hating this so it’d really, really mean a lot.  anyway, thanks as always for reading and i adore you!  stay safe and happy and healthy!

He’s a sucker.  That’s what you think of him, despite the fact you’ve never met him.  It’d be impossible not to, given what you’ve heard. 

His girlfriend - or something - is in every other week, flashing his black card like she has something to prove.  Sometimes, she’s by herself;  often, she’s with another gaggle of girls that fawn all over themselves and shriek a little too loudly for your taste.  They’re vapid, snooty in a way that makes you cringe every time they step into the boutique.  Still, you’re nice because this is your job and you have to be.  You can’t exactly tell a paying customer to get lost - even if you think it at least six times each visit. 

“He has no idea.”  It’s always the same thing, a story that pulls at your heartstrings yet has you scoffing in equal parts.  “I told him we were doing a girls’ trip but Hyunjin’s going to meet me on his way back and we’re spending the week at the Ritz.”

How can he possibly be this dumb, you wonder.  How can’t he see past the pretty pink lipstick and perfectly coiffed blonde hair?  It isn’t even that nice of a colour job - too icy and reminiscent of Malibu Barbie. 

(She’d bragged about it once - how she’d gotten an appointment at one of the most coveted salons in the city, spending hours in the stylist’s chair to get this “perfect shade”.  Her words, not yours.)

You figure he must be some lonely schmuck, some poor old sap who can’t possibly get what he’s looking for anywhere else.  Maybe he had some weird spoiling kink - if so, where was your man like that - or he just wanted companionship and found it in the arms of girls who paid him any sort of attention.  Truthfully, you thought a lot of things about him.  Kind of had to, given how often his girlfriend was in, rambling about her exploits and snickering behind his back.

You’d never expected him to be like this.

Jeon Jungkook shows up on a Sunday afternoon, shortly after lunch and with the dopiest smile on his face. 

Your colleague notices him first, nudging you to attention because you, unlike her, actually do productive things while you’re at work like go through layaways and make sure items aren’t sitting in the back gathering dust.

“He’s cute,”  she very poorly whispers, voice carrying because it always does.  She’s a younger girl - maybe a few years your junior, who’d gotten her job through pure nepotism - but she’s sweet enough.  Zero tact, though.  Never notices when she’s being just a little too forceful with her sales but her sweet smile and full rack seem to keep her from getting into any trouble.  You consider her a vaguely annoying sister, someone you love even when you don’t necessarily like her.

You glance up from the iPad balanced in your hands, disinterested.  “Who?”

There’s an older couple striding past the entrance, hand-in-hand with three Hermes bags.  (God, what awful taste.)  There’s another couple standing at the mouth of the Louis Vuitton boutique, bickering about which belt will best match the boyfriend’s tux best.  (The answer is neither, because those belts do not belong with a classic black tux.)

“Him.”

Yejin all but points him out, jerking her chin in his direction.  You don’t know how you hadn’t really clocked him in the first place.  Maybe because he’s so unassuming that you’d just brushed over him, noting his outfit before moving on.  When you look at him - really look at him - you can’t look away.

You think he’s handsome in that off-kilter kind of way, too-big teeth and too-wide eyes.  He’s terribly innocent looking, despite the fact that he’s wearing a gleaming gold Rolex and sleek black boots you recognise from Prada’s 2019 RTW.  Everything he wears is tailored, fitting him to the point you wonder who his seamstress  is.  

But then he speaks, and it’s not the suave, sultry voice you’d expect.  It’s featherlight and almost shy, bashful in its delivery.  

“I’m here to pick up a bag for my girlfriend?”  He upspeaks.  It’s stupidly adorable.

Bless her soul, Yejin throws a glance in your direction first.  A silent ‘yours or mine?’ that’s answered when you step forward, blindingly bright customer service smile in full effect.  “What’s the item and the name it’s under?”  You keep in mind he’s said girlfriend very clearly, even as you can’t help but trail your stare over his shoulders, the dimple that digs itself into his cheek when he speaks again.

“Oh, it’s under mine.  Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” 

You’re floored.  This is Jeon Jungkook?  This specimen draped in leather and fine Japanese silk is the poor idiot wrapped around Barbie’s finger?  You’ve got to be kidding.

You wonder whether the surprise is evident on your face.  It must be, given how quickly Yejin interrupts, piping up in that saccharine sweet voice of hers.  “I’ll grab it!  The Box bag in cloud, right?”

Jungkook can only nod dumbly.  He has no idea what he’s there to pick up - only that he needs to because his girlfriend is away on a trip with her two best female friends.  He tells you as much, chuckling at his own ignorance.  It’d be cute if it weren’t so sad, his eyes twinkling like the jewels set in your ears.  There’s so much love in his eyes it’s frankly sickening.  

It comes before you can help it, snapping off your tongue - an oil spill ready to drag him to the depths of hell.

“Oh - you’re Kiko’s boyfriend?  I thought you’d left for Hong Kong already.”  Your head tilts - the picture of innocence as you continue to spew things you shouldn’t, staining the innocence of his expression with each word that drops off.  “She said she was leaving on Friday.”  Even while you’re tearing this poor man’s life apart, you’re racking your brain for the off-handed comments she’d made.  “She kept going on and on about how she was so excited to be staying at the Ritz.”

It’s almost like you gain some sick sort of satisfaction in watching his face fall.  You’ve never seen someone crumble so quickly, every ounce of affection swept up and spat out in the time it takes you to take a solid, proper breath.  

You do feel bad.  Not for saying it, but for being the person to do this.  For hurting this stranger.  (At least he knew?)

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.”  Gone is the sunny friendliness, the blissful geniality.  He’s very much uncertain, bunny teeth digging into the full swell of his bottom lip.  He’s pigeon-toed and round-shouldered, thick brows drawn neatly over his stare as he focuses on some indeterminate point somewhere by his feet. 

If Yejin were on the floor with you, she’d tell you to knock it off.  Chastise you for getting involved in something you had no business being in.  (She’d be right, but you’ve always been an advocate for tough love.)  As it stands, she’s still in the back finding that stupid girl’s bag and you’re here, shaking your head, weakening Jungkook’s resolve with the edge of your teeth.  “No, she definitely said she was going away with her boyfriend.  Did you maybe give us the wrong name?”

Maybe if he weren’t so upset, he’d be more offended by the insinuation he’s stupid.  Instead, he only falters further, head mimicking yours.  Poor guy.

“I—I think there’s been a mistake.”

Yeah, you dating that gold-digger, you want to say.  Instead, you meet his stare like you haven’t just dug a thousand holes in his foundation.  “Oh, maybe.  I’m sorry.”  The apology is honest, even if the meaning behind it isn’t.  That’s a thing, right?  Apologising to make someone feel better, even when you don’t necessarily agree with it?  

God, you’re an altruist. 

“It’s fine.”  When he stutters, adorable lisp coming out to play, you know it’s not.  You applaud him for his brave face, even if it’s very poorly offered - a makeshift mask you think you could tear off with just another well-aimed word.  (You won’t.)

“Here it is!”  Yejin’s back, bouncing out from behind the counter with the giant white bag in her hands.  If she notices the atmosphere, she says nothing.  You remind yourself to tell her good job once Jungkook leaves - and you know he’ll leave the moment he’s got those silk handles in his hand.  He looks about ready to cry - or ready to fight, you’re not sure.

Once the purchase is passed over, he nods his head furiously and you swear you see a tear go flying.  You don’t have time to ask before he’s hoofing it out of the store.  

He doesn’t even notice he’s left his wallet on the counter.

By the time you snatch it up and round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found.  Probably because running in stilettos is next to impossible and he’s gotten an embarrassed head start.  Well then.

“I guess we’ll have to call him,”  you hum, turning the Prada bi-fold over and over in your hands.  It’s practically brand new, stuffed with large bills, his driver’s license, and few credit cards, including a Hyundai black card.  The same one on file that his girlfriend - maybe soon-to-be ex-girlfriend? - uses shamelessly.

Yejin’s watching you carefully, silently.  You’re counting down how long it’ll be until she asks - because you can see the curiosity swimming in her eyes, practically bulging her cheeks with the effort of keeping her questions caged behind her teeth.

Finally, after a good three minutes, she’s at your side, bony point of her chin digging a grave into your shoulder.  It’s probably not the most appropriate thing but she’s never much been one for decorum.  (You either, but still.) 

“So… what was that about?”

You don’t bother to turn when you speak, back to running through order details and matching them with customers.  “What?”

“You know— that!”  She waves her wrist in a circle, gesturing toward the space Jungkook had occupied not five minutes ago.  “He ran out of here like he was scared for his life.”

“Scared of the truth,”  you correct. 

You hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get more pale - she’s already fine porcelain, perpetually slathered in sunscreen - but she somehow does, balking at your response.  There it is. 

“What?”  There’s a reproachful edge to her words, an uncertainty that tells more than the single syllable. 

“What?”  It’s mimicry and a challenge all in one, meeting her stare from the corner of your periphery.  You can read every emotion that runs through her expression:  shock, displeasure, confusion.  

She retreats a step, bottom lip caught between her teeth.  (She really does remind you of your little sister.)  “So, you told him?”

You shrug, a noncommittal gesture that disrupts the curtain of silk that falls over your shoulder.  You hadn’t laid it out for him but surely he had an idea now.  There was no way he didn’t. 

“I pointed out a few conflicting facts.  That’s all.”  You’re not ashamed about what you’ve done.  You’d want to know if you were him.  Consider it an act of goodwill. 

The silence that meets your ears isn’t surprising but you don’t pay it any further mind.  What’s done is done.  Now he knows, or something close to it.  The chips would simply fall where they were meant to. 

You have to admit - you’re rooting for him. 

Whatever Yejin’s thinking, she keeps it to herself for the rest of the shift.  She knows better than to berate you about something like this, not that she would anyway.  Obnoxious as she can be, you have an understanding.  It strengthens your not-quite-close-friends-but-more-than-colleagues relationship. 

It’s only at the end of your shift that she brings it up again, drifting over to you as you complete your cash count for the evening. 

She holds Jungkook’s wallet in her hand, mouth pursed thoughtfully as she taps it against the edge of the counter.  “You have to call him.”

You almost lose your count, finishing with a pinched expression.  “Whoever works tomorrow morning can call him.”  You’re not brushing off the responsibility - you really could care less - but simply passing it along to the next person.  Sensible. 

As it turns out, you’re the person who works the next morning, called in because another associate has come down with a cold.  

You’re two lattes deep when you remember the wallet, tucked neatly behind the counter with a yellow sticky note posted to the front.  You suppose it’s your responsibility now.  You know if Yejin comes in tomorrow and sees it, she’ll give you her childish brand of hell. 

The line rings twice before it picks up, that oddly familiar voice crackling through the speaker.  “Hello?”

“Jungkook?”  

There’s a beat of silence followed by a careful confirmation. “Yes, that’s me?”  Upspeaking again. How cute. 

“I’m calling from the CELINE boutique.”  You can practically imagine the look on his face, eyes as wide as saucers as he recalls the awful-to-him encounter.  “You left your wallet here and I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

“O-oh, uh—“  It’s like encountering a baby bunny - or deer or something equally adorable and vulnerable.  “Thanks.  I didn’t even notice.  Um, I can come pick it up today?”  There’s another pause, the sound of fingers over a screen, and then he’s back.  “Is that okay?”

Leave it to him to have lost his wallet and yet be worried about putting someone else out.  He truly was a sucker. 

“That’s fine.  We’re open until six tonight.”  

“I’ll be there before dinner.”  As if realizing how vague that is, he continues, words running headlong into each other like he can’t get them out fast enough.  “Before six, I mean.  Um, is around five-thirty okay?” 

You want to tell him to just come whenever, that it really doesn’t matter to you, but that probably isn’t going to help the situation.  Instead, you hum a quiet sound of confirmation.  “Of course.  We’ll see you then.” 

He hangs up immediately. 

The second time you meet Jeon Jungkook, he’s just as endearing as the last.  It’s actually surprising, if you’re being honest.  You’d thought he’d be resentful or mean or any other emotion better fitting someone whose entire world had turned upside-down.

As it stands, he’s just the right-side of anxious, a hundred little sparks of uncertainty flaring beneath his skin and lighting him up in neon.  You can see him from a mile away he’s lit up so bright, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin.

Your heart aches for him - and then it skips, almost trips over its own two feet when he wanders into the store with his hands dug deep into the pocket of his pants.

How he looks tonight is nothing like how he’d looked yesterday.  Somehow, you like it more.  The undone head-to-toe Balenciaga, the unruly curl of his dark hair.  It’s effortlessly chic - though you think it might have something to do with the fact that he’s just an attractive person.  (Good-looking people could get away with anything - even god-awful fashion faux pas.)

At the sight of you, he seems to further lose steam, eyes widening to such an extent you briefly worry for him.  Surely they’ll fall out of their sockets one day.  

“O-oh.  It’s you.”  The moment the words come, he’s blushing the colour of your red-soled shoes, horrified.  “I m-mean, just—”  He takes a deep breath, finds his footing and tries again.  “You’re the girl that helped me yesterday.”  Spoken like you, the exact girl who helped him yesterday, wouldn’t remember that fact yourself.  

“That’s right,”  you say evenly, expression neutral.  It’s almost as if that surprises him more - as if he’d expected you to shy away from the knowledge.  

The two of you stare at each other for longer than is strictly speaking necessary.  Well, you stare at him and he kind of bounces his eyes around the room.  You know he can’t be that interested in the croc stamp Belt bag behind your head or the selection of small leather goods in the glass case.  

He’s so awkward.

(You did kind of ruin his day though, so you can’t blame him.)

“So, um, my wallet?”  He’s made barely any headway, still lingering awkwardly by the front of the store.  You can’t help your smile - it’s more of a smirk - as you raise the item in question.  

“Right here.”

Jungkook glances from it to your face, then back again.  He makes the same trip twice more.  “Can I have it?”  To your surprise, he’s taken two whole steps toward you, brow furrowed.  He’s still terribly soft, rounded edges and innocent eyes, but he’s making progress.  Good job, you think.

“Of course.”  You mirror him, moving out from behind the counter.  Somehow, that’s not the right move, because his features are breaking and rearranging, big bunny teeth worrying a hole straight through his bottom lip.  You’d think he’d be more confident, more demanding, more… everything.  (You quite like that he isn’t - a complete anomaly - but you also imagine it’s also to his detriment.  Too much honey, not enough vinegar.)

This time, he closes the distance with three long strides.  It hadn’t escaped you how tall he was, the length of his gait - after all, you’d tried to run after him - but you’re still a little surprised when he’s in front of you, not a foot away, arm extended.  Palm out, he asks again, all while refusing eye contact.  “May I have it, please?” 

You hand it over with a soft laugh, pressing the grained leather into his hand.  You expect him to retreat immediately and he does - but then he turns and his expression is inscrutable.  Is he going to say thank you?  Berate you for what you’d done yesterday?

Neither, it seems.  “Why did you do it?”  There’s no anger, just an abiding sadness that laces his words, turns them the saddest shade of blue.

“Do it?”  You know what he means.  You ask anyway.

“Why did you tell me?”  Jungkook’s doing that thing again, alternating between biting his tongue and chewing his cheek as he stares at you.  You can practically see the melancholy rolling off him;  it shines dark on the depths of his irises, how his fist trembles just barely at his side.  For all his good looks and leisurely charm, you can see the effort it takes to hold himself together now.

Guilt ascends, starts somewhere deep in your stomach and turns stomach acid to butterflies.  It creeps higher and higher over your spine, locking each vertebrae until you’re immobile, unable to tear your gaze from his.  “I thought you deserved to know.”

“But why?” 

“What do you mean?”  

It’s almost comical, how both your expressions descend into bewilderment - like looking into a fun house mirror.  He’s trying to wrap his mind around your actions and you’re just trying to make sense of his confusion.  

You anticipate a response - can see it tittering on the tip of his tongue - but he seems to think better of it, shaking his head.  It dislodges a wayward curl from behind his ear, silver twinkling with the movement.  

“Thank you” is all he offers before speed-walking away.

You don’t expect to see Jeon Jungkook for a third time.  

He’s waiting for you when you end your shift on Thursday, standing somewhere between the two boutiques, loitering like some kind of gremlin.  (Except he’s dressed exceptionally well, slick black jeans and a Balenciaga tee shirt that rivals the cost of your shoes.  Of course he’d get away with hanging out in the store without being told off.)

“Excuse me.”  For once, he doesn’t sutter.  The lisp doesn’t present itself, either.  Was this the same Jungkook?  You’re not sure until you meet his stare - or try, his own skipping away the moment you make contact.

There he is.

“Yes, Jungkook?”  He flinches, as if he isn’t expecting you to know or say his name.  How can someone so big, so broad across the shoulders with a face that belongs on billboards, look like such a terrified rabbit?  It makes no sense to you.

“Can we talk?”  The stare he levels you with is unfair, too sweet and coaxing for you to even consider saying no.  You’ll still mess with him a bit though.

“We are talking.”

He sputters at that, hacks out a cough that makes you snicker openly.  It’s just so easy with him, like taking candy from a baby.  

“I mean like— talk talk.”  The set of his jaw gives away the whisper of frustration, the fleeting touch of exasperation that doesn’t allow itself to live anywhere else.  His eyes are still soft, round and glossy beneath the fluorescent storelight.  

“Sure, we can talk talk.”  

“Did you, um, want to grab dinner?”

You don’t mean to mock him (at least, not really) but he just makes everything so easy. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way.  “Are you asking me on a date?”  

“W-what?  No!”  Despite the immediacy of his response - the look of utter shock that cracks the careful facade - he’s burning bright, cheeks aflame with colour that licks up and over his ears.  “I just— I thought you’d want to talk somewhere else—”

“I’m kidding.  Let’s go.”

You move first, stepping past him and onto the elevator without a backwards glance.  He scampers after you, trails like a lost puppy in the wake of your shadow.  Even while you stand in the corner, waiting for the lift to meet the main floor, he keeps a careful distance, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.  

“So, what do you want to talk about?”  It seems you have to take the initiative, throwing him a curious stare as the floor number ticks down.  His gaze is trained on neon digits, unmoving.  You repeat yourself, glancing up at him, half-tempted to nudge him out of his reverie.  It’s almost like talking to a really hot brick wall.  “Jungkook?”

He tears out of his thoughts like a wayward bullet, head swivelling wildly.  “Huh?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  

“Um—”  He hesitates, not as if he doesn’t know the answer, but rather that he’s hesitant to speak it into existence.  There’s a tidal wave in the depth of his stare, a cresting wave that looks on the edge of breaking.  “—m-me?”

Brows furrow then amusement spills out.  “You want to talk about… you?”  

“That sounds bad.”  The shape of his grow prominent over his bottom lip, his mouth pulling and pursing with whatever maelstrom exists inside that pretty skull of his.  

“It’s fine.  We’ll talk at dinner.”  

He nods.  You think it means thank you.

Sitting across from each other in the Michelin-starred restaurant - a sought after spot that takes reservations weeks in advance - it’s easy to imagine Jungkook is just another guy.  Another bachelor with too much money and not enough sense, eager to sink his teeth into his next victim.  

It’s hilarious how far that is from the truth.

“What did you want to eat?”  He’s speaking into the pages of the leatherbound menu, half his face hidden.  Whether it’s a defense mechanism or just how he woos pretty girls, you’re not sure.  (You have a feeling it’s the former.)

“Whatever.”  Everything here is incredible.  You really don’t mind.

Jungkook’s face falls, folds in on itself like wet paper and you sigh a sound that further breaks apart the pillars keeping his composure in place.  His right cheek is hollowed, interior being shredded by enamel.  You take pity on him then, flipping open the menu with a great flourish. 

When the waitress - a lovely little thing whose gaze lingers on your dining partner for too long to just be polite - comes to take your order, you rattle off your usual order, doubling certain selections.  Soft-spoken as he might be, you have a feeling the size of his stomach makes up for all the mumbling and half-hearted glances.

“So?”  You level him with a stare over the rim of your glass, lavender and lemonade bursting across your tongue.  

He echoes you, wide-eyed and Bambi-like and stupidly cute.  “So?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  If you’d had a worse day, if you were a lesser person, you might be irritated by having to repeat yourself so often.  As it stands, you’re only curious, your inquisitive nature outweighing your naturally short temper. 

“Oh.”  Poor boy looks like he’s been asked an impossible question, like what’s the meaning of life or the secret to eternal youth.  He fumbles with the edge of his sleeve, turns the plaid over and over in his fingers as if it were a puzzle.  You stare at him the whole time, unflinching, unrelenting.  He’d asked you here so you damn well expect an answer.

You’re about ready to repeat yourself - fourth time’s the charm? - when he finally finds his voice.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

It’s not the answer you’d expected.  It whacks you in the face, smacking your usual confidence out of place and shooting your carefully threaded eyebrows into your hairline.  “What?” 

He’s terribly uncomfortable, unhappy with being on the spot.  You watch the flicker of emotions through his face, the ones that creep into the delicate skin beneath his eyes, the wobble of his bottom lip.  Try as he might, he can’t keep the light from his eyes - twinkling stars that bloom like newly minted stars.

“Thank you.”  It’s just that much harder when he repeats himself, edges he builds with his bare hands and a clearing of his throat.

You’re silent for a long while - long enough for the first few plates to be set before you.  You gather up shredded radish and perfectly charred beef with your chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully on the morsel.  Jungkook doesn’t move - doesn’t even reach for his chopsticks - and simply stares at you.  You might find it off-putting if it were anyone but him.

You get through half the bowl of green beans, well on your way to finishing it, when he finally begins eating, deftly transferring little bites to his bowl.

The only sound is crunching - king oyster mushroom tempura, ice from your cocktail - and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it’s not uncomfortable.  A little different, sure, but altogether nice.  Like dining with an old friend.

You finally answer when half the plates are gone, another three laid out in their wake.  You’re careful not to speak with your mouth open - you notice Jungkook doesn’t either - and take a long sip of your water.  “You’re welcome, I guess.”  

Something tells you you’re always surprising him - whether intentionally or not.  His eyebrows have a tendency to shoot up, making him look even more shocked than he normally does.  (Seriously, how big are his eyes?)  You find that funny but don’t comment on it, opting to pop a silken piece of black cod into your mouth.  Your stare never falters, trained on his face as you chew thoughtfully.

“What?”  He’s had enough of your quiet observation, apples of his cheeks reminiscent of the tree in your parents’ backyard.  

“What?”  You parrot back, shameless, dark eyes twinkling at him.

“Y-you’re staring at me.”  

“You’re sitting in front of me.”

The line of his mouth hardens then, tongue rolling against his cheek in a gesture that stands out.  It’s the first glimpse of something rude, something not doe-eyed and innocent.  Oh?

“You don’t have to stare.”  Said with a speared piece of sashimi, the end of his chopsticks assaulting the poor piece of bluefin tuna like it has personally offended him.  

You reach for the same place, knock ornate wood against his, and quirk a brow when he meets your stare.  “Does it bother you, Mr. Jeon?”  The inflection is drawn out, almost mocking, only softened by the smile you offer.  

“That’s not my name.”  The bite disappears past his teeth.  You expect him to continue three chews later but he only goes for another, filling his plate and then his mouth.

“Sorry— Jungkook.  Does my staring bother you?”

It feels a little like playing with fire - holding your hand too close to a flickering flame, curious what it’ll do.  Juvenile in a way but enticing in another.  You’ve never met anyone quite like Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s rude,”  he reasons, glossy eyes meeting yours for perhaps the fifth time that evening.

“Maybe I’m just rude.”

He shakes his head then - dislodges untamed strands from behind his silver-lined ears - and sets his chopsticks down.  (Perfectly matched up, propped against the provided rest.)  “You’re not.”

You can’t keep the surprise away, the emotion threading through your brows to tie them into a little knot of consternation.  He says it so readily, as if he knows you and this isn’t one of a handful of very short, very unexpected conversations.  He’s not even looking away, meeting your stare with a confidence that surprises you.  

It lasts for all of five more seconds before he clears his throat and sips at his tea.  Anything to busy his hands, you think.

“You don’t know that,”  you finally return, after what seems like too long.

“I do.”  He nods - almost to himself - and continues, matter-of-fact.  “You care about people.  You’re… hard around the edges but you don’t mean to hurt anyone.  You want to do what’s right.  Sometimes it means you have to do things that aren’t easy.”

For once, you’re at a loss for words.  Really and truly silenced, unable to articulate anything that might beat back the kindness he’s offering.  

How the tables have turned.

He likes waffles with chocolate syrup rather than honey.  He doesn’t like whipped cream or citrus-flavoured desserts.  He has a tailor he’s gone to since he was a child, the same elderly woman he sometimes calls halmoni because she’s watched him grow up.  He decorates his apartment with the most random things:  limited edition KAWs figurines and the guitars he still hasn’t had the most practice with, one of a kind paintings from the gallery one of his best friends curates.  He buys the most expensive bottles of wine at any given restaurant not because his palate is so evolved it matters, but because it’s what he’s been taught to do.

He’s been in four serious relationships in his twenty-five years.  All of them have ended poorly, though his latest with Malibu Barbie is the first where he’d been cheated on.  (Somehow, you doubt that but you don’t voice this disbelief.)  He tends to lean towards long-term relationships with women who baby him (your words, not his).  He scoffs when you call him a serial monogamist, insists he isn’t even as you list out all the facts pointing otherwise.

“I just… don’t like wasting my time,”  he insists from behind his coffee cup.  

“You mean you don’t like the potential to be hurt.”  

Jungkook blinks at you then, Bambi eyes so big and bright you almost want to laugh.  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”  He seems confused - as if his reasoning is solid, irrefutable. 

“High risk, high reward, Jungkookie.”  It’s something your father had taught you years ago, the crazy old sap.  It’s probably why he’s had three divorces since you were seven years old, but you suppose it’s worked out for him now.  He’s been happily married for the last ten years - the longest relationship he’s ever had.  Youngin is good for him, though.  You like her - even if you sometimes wish she weren’t young enough to be your older sister and not his wife.

“You say that a lot.”

“I mean it when I say it.”

He’s quiet then, shoving a corner of his croissant past his lips.  When he speaks - starts to, anyway - his mouth is still full and you level him with a look that silences him until all traces of the pastry are gone.  “Girls are scary.”

You laugh.  Cackle, really.  You can’t help it.  He says it with a pout, the expression so utterly at odds with the offensively revealing shirt he wears, the smooth unblemished skin of his chest almost too much for such a quiet afternoon.  He glares at you across the table, shoves another piece of the flaky golden treat into his mouth, and waits for you to speak.  He knows you’re going to give him a piece of your mind because you always do, rebuffing 99% of the things he says.  (Sometimes for fun, often with good intentions.)

“Heights are scary.  Death is scary.  Leaving your wallet at home when you’re low on gas is scary—”

“Don’t you have Apple Pa—”

“Don’t interrupt.”  He clamps his lips shut, folding his arms across his chest.  From anyone else, it’d be a defensive gesture;  from him, it’s patient.  “Girls aren’t scary.  Having real feelings for people is scary, but that doesn’t mean you should just stay with people who don’t deserve you.” 

“Not all of us have cheater-sniffing noses.”  

You suppose he’s right but the fact still remains that he’s too nice for his own good.  Too trusting, too lenient, too blind to all the red flags.  Like he’s living life in greyscale. 

“Well, that’s what you have me for.”

The look Jungkook gives you then is incredulous, screwing his pretty face up as if he’s about to sneeze.  Instead, he laughs.  “I’m not hopeless.”

“Oh, but you are.”  You’re adamant, insistent.  He’s more comfortable with you now - sometimes teases you in a way you’d never have expected weeks ago - but he’s still so soft.  An absolute marshmallow dressed in designer duds, a heart of gold wrapped up in a bubble gum package.  

You want to protect him, teach him to fly.  Be his wingwoman until he’s soaring the skies on his own.  

You know it’s not his pride that keeps him from saying yes.  He doesn’t have an abundance of that, far too gracious to ever deny help when he really needs it.  He’s just shy, doesn’t know what he wants until it’s staring him right in the face.  

“Fine,”  he agrees after you’ve stared at him for too long.  It’s one of his weaknesses - his inability to handle attention when it’s laser-focused.  It makes him sweat, prompts his nervous habit of chewing at his bottom lip, long fingers picking at the peach fuzz on his cheeks.

“You won’t regret it.”

Jeon Jungkook has gone on six dates over the last ten days.  You know, because you’ve helped him pick out outfits for each of them, seated at the edge of his bed with your knees folded and a bag of white cheddar popcorn in your grubby little paws.

It’s not that he isn’t stylish - you both know he is - but there’s a certain finesse to dressing for dates, to knowing the likes and dislikes of your potential partner and playing to those.  

He, to no one's surprise, does not have this finesse.  If it were up to him, he’d wear his favourite clothes every day, different jeans and joggers in medium-wash denim and impossibly soft cotton.  He’d swap his Balenciaga separates in and out and stick with the finely tailored Gucci suit he calls his lucky ticket (ew).  He’d live in those stupid two-toned sneakers and barely do his hair, allowing it to become a powder puff reminiscent of old Hollywood movies.

The girls would probably still love it.  (It’s easy to love him.)

“What do you think?”  It’s low-cut black, relaxed in the shoulders and flattering in the torso.  It holds him just right, hugging the muscle that threads across his shoulders like armour, coils around his upper arms and makes his tattoos stand in stark relief where the sleeves end, mid-forearm. 

It looks good— but then again, a lot of things look good on him.  He wants great.

You answer honestly, because that’s what you do and that’s what he has you there for.  To knock him down when his (admittedly small) ego gets a little too big, remind him of his hubris like the summer sun upon his candle wax wings.  “Not bad…”

You don’t even need to finish the thought for him to be tugging the shirt over his head, back flexed, ink-strewn fingers gripping the hem.  

Not for the first time, you’re reminded of just how unfair life is. 

How had Jungkook - bona fide dork, certifiable shy guy - been gifted one of the best bodies in human existence?  (You wish you were joking.)  It was utterly absurd, a complete waste on someone who’d only learnt to utilise his good looks in the last five months you’d known him.  

“This one?”  He’s grabbing another hanger, all but thrusting it into your face.  Medium-weight cashmere.  Probably too hot for a night like tonight but you’ve seen it on him before and it hugs him like a lover, displaying his best assets (titties) and drawing attention to the narrow shape of his waist.  It’s the equivalent of a little black dress.

“Look at you go,”  you tease, mouth full of mirth and popcorn kernels.  “Throw that Juun.J trench you have overtop and you’ll be set.”

Jungkook nods sagely, as if your word is law.  You suppose it is.

“Thanks, ____,.”  He says it in that sweet way of his, eyes lost to the weight of his gratitude.  

Your response is a shrug.  “Bring me back some dessert and we’ll be even.”  You don’t know where he’s going tonight but you figure it’s one of the many restaurants you’d recommended earlier in the week when he’d started lining up his various dates.  You know there’ll be something good on the menu.  

He promises he will as he slides the turtleneck on, tucking it into the dark trousers he’d picked up days ago, and redoes the slim black Rag & Bone belt around his waist.  You have to admit - you’ve done another great job of styling him.  Simple yet painstakingly attractive, playing at all the little bits of Jungkook’s best qualities without outlining them in bright red ink.  Understated but elegant, effortless yet seriously hot.  

Maybe you should quit your day job and become the female Hitch.  That was a viable plan, right?

You’re mulling it over when you realise your walking Ken doll is making toward his bedroom door, wallet clasped in one hand and phone in the other.  “Hey!  You’re leaving already?”  It’s polite surprise that colours your words, stare drawn to the screen of your iPhone.  It’s only 6 PM and the reservation isn’t for another hour.

There’s a sheepish look creeping over his features, painting itself in delicate strokes that you spy past the line of his smile, how the skin crinkles around his eyes.  For a moment, he’s the shy Jungkook you’d met in your store and not the one that now bleeds careful confidence, filling his little black book (read: phone contacts) with names as easily as he breathes.  “I was, uh, going to stop and get f-flowers.”  A silver-lined hand scrubs across his nape, dislodges the carefully styled waves he’s settled for.

Flowers, huh?  Well, that’s certainly something new.  Good for him, you think. 

“Jeon Jungkook, going all out.”  It’s heavy on the teasing, playful mockery lending a warmth to your words.  “She’s special.”

Which you’d figured, given he was seeing her.  Repeats were rare for him now that he’d learned how to weed out the bad seeds, held his hand a little closer to his heart (at least, sometimes).  Since he’d started dating again, this would be the first time he’d be going on a second date.  It’s a big deal. 

“Yeah—“  Nervousness sparks across his face, lights up his stare like the stars in the night sky.  “I guess she is.”

You smile fondly, like a proud mother.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”  

“I will,”  he promises, looking so giddy it makes your heart swell ten sizes.  

You don’t even think anything of it as you follow him out of his room, bag of popcorn neatly rolled under your arm and your socks slid back into place.  It’s only when he levels you with a strange stare, pauses in the shrugging on of his coat, that you return his look.  “What?”

“Where are you going?”

“Leaving?”  

“Why?”

Wasn’t that the million dollar question?  

You don’t normally leave, usually waiting here at home for him until he returns to give you a rundown of his date (and the promised appetizer/dessert/whatever).  It feels somehow wrong to stay, though, as if you’re taking up space that doesn’t belong to you.  He’s going on a second date, after all.  Soon enough, he won’t need your help picking out clothes or deciding on a restaurant.  You won’t get to curl up on your usual corner of his sectional, wrapped up in the obnoxiously soft blanket you’d convinced him to buy one night while online shopping.

But it’s fine.  Totally, one hundred and ten percent fine.  The two of you are friends.  You’d always expected - anticipated, hoped - this day would come.  Baby boy was growing up. 

“Y’know.”  You answer a second too late and he’s still wearing that odd expression, handsome face flooded with something that looks like disappointment.  It flickers in the bits of his stare you can make out past his fringe, partially concealed by the dark silk that you know feels as soft as it looks.

“I know?”  He never tries to read your mind - knows it’s utterly useless.  

You wiggle your hand dismissively.  “Second date and all that.”  

Jungkook giggles - the same deceptively sweet sound he always makes - and finishes tugging his jacket on.  It fits him so well it should be illegal, falling to his knees and ending just shy of the intricate laces of his boots.  “Just stick around.  I’ll drive you home when I get back.”

It’s something he always does - his way of saying thank you for putting up with all of his first date jitters, his outfit changes, his worrying over how to first approach a girl on Tinder - so you don’t doubt him.  “Fine.  I’ll stay.”

He beams, caught halfway out the door.  “Tell me to break a leg.”

“Go break her back,”  you retort to the sound of his laughter.

You’re almost asleep when your phone starts going off, the vibrations jolting you awake.  It rattles across the glass table, won’t shut the hell up until you’re slamming your hand atop it, glaring at the screen as it lights up with notifications.

It’s almost 2 AM and they’re from Jungkook.  This can only mean one thing.

from jeon jungkook:  Hey. from jeon jungkook:  I’m really sorry but I won’t be home tonight. from jeon jungkook:  If you want to stay over, I can drive you back in the morning. from jeon jungkook:  Please don’t be mad.

Leave it to him to apologise for getting his dick wet - to feel bad about having a successful second date.  It makes you laugh as you stare down at the texts, tap a quick response you know will have his heart racing.  (Even after months of friendship, it’s hard not to tease him just a little bit.)

to jeon jungkook:  i officially hate you

The typing notification gives him away immediately, but the moment you do the same, he stops.  Of course.  He hates confrontation - would rather leap off a cliff-face than deal with negative emotions.  (He’d told you that once, over a night of beer and fried tteok.)

to jeon jungkook:  it’s fine!  have fun! to jeon jungkook:  turn her world upside down 😏

He doesn’t answer after that but the read receipt pops up.  Good, you think.  About time he finds someone nice.  You wonder what she’ll be like when you meet her.  

Jungkook’s third date comes with another third - you.

He drags you along to dinner, insisting there’s nothing at all weird about the fact.  He has to repeat it at least four times during the drive there, head nodding like a plastic bobblehead as he weaves in and out of traffic. 

“I want you to meet her,”  he mumbles, like that makes it better.  As if bringing a friend along to a date with that reasoning means it’s totally acceptable and not on the list of Hard No’s When Dating.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?”  He’s too focused on changing lanes to answer you, signalling before seamlessly drifting over.  (He’s an impressively responsible driver, but that’s unsurprising.)  You repeat yourself.

“It’s not… weird.”  But you have a feeling that he knows how odd the request is.  Knows and doesn’t care, unfortunately.  “She wants to meet you too.”

(When had Jungkook turned into this person who argued with you?)

You somehow highly doubt that.  No girl in her right mind would leap at the chance to meet her potential beau’s wingwoman.  It’s something reserved for official status, when the foundation is set.  Still, you play into his hand, level him with a stare he should recognise.  It’s the one you throw his way any time he’s too nice, gives a mile when he shouldn’t even offer an inch.  (It doesn’t come as often anymore, but it still makes appearances once in a while.)  

“What does she even know about me?”

“That we’re friends.”  His vague response speaks volumes.  The look changes - grows into a glare that has him furtively peeking at you from the corner of his periphery.  When he speaks, it feels like a dead giveaway.  “That I really value your opinion.”

You groan, a noise so loud it rattles around in the car and interrupts the ballad playing through the speakers.

“She’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or not!”  Of course.  It’s obvious.  She wants to know what she’s getting into it before things get too serious, determine if her Prince Charming is really all that.  (He is.)  “I’m not coming to dinner.”  

“You’re already in the car,”  he reasons.  

You note he doesn’t deny your first statement, mouth rounding into a pout that should crush your resolve.  Instead, it drives you mad, irritation bubbling in your throat.

“I just won’t go in.”

“____,.”  When he says it like that, it’s hard to deny him.  Jungkook might not utilise his charms often but when he does, it’s lethal.  Undeniable with those dumb Bambi eyes of his.

“No.”

“____,,”  he repeats, almost pleading.  You can’t look at him.  You won’t.  The moment you do, you’ll be sucked into the swirling vortex that makes up his stare - a million pretty little lights caught in the brown of his iris, so many possibilities you’d lose yourself trying to explore them all.

You last a whole ten seconds before his staring becomes too much, those round eyes tracking you in the rearview mirror until you’re relenting, softening in the way that only he can cause. 

“Fine.”  You hate how it sounds rolling off your tongue, terse and a little pissed off.  You’re not actually mad.  Just worried.  You’ve seen situations like this play out - not that you’ve been in this position before - but female friends and potential girlfriends just don’t go hand-in-hand.  It takes a very special kind of person to facilitate a meeting this early and you are not that person.  You’re ragged edges, uneven temperament, distrust that you can’t help.

Jungkook knows that.  Should, anyway.  You’ve grown close over the last nearly half a year.  

When he mumbles a quiet sorry, turns to rest his chin against his knuckles as he drives, you know he means it.  He’d never put you in this position if it didn’t mean a lot to him - if his own happiness wasn’t somehow also on the line.  (Truthfully, it’s your fault.  All that self-love encouragement was coming back to bite you in the ass.)

You grumble an obligatory acceptance as the streetlights fly by.  You’ve got a reputation to uphold. 

“You’re paying for my dinner.”

“Of course.”

How many times have you pictured this same situation, watched it unfold on your television screen as the protagonist gasps wildly, hand at their throat?  How many times have you laughed at the exchange, snickering into your palm as the romantic interest makes some wild declaration of love and wins the protagonist’s heart?

Answer:  you’ve lost count.

Still, it doesn’t prepare you to be thrust beneath the spotlight, half-dreaming and terribly confused.  

“What’re you doing here?”  At any other time, it might be as reproachful as you want, full of disapproval and sleepiness.  Here and now, it’s slurred speech and the lines of your pillow dug into the softness of your cheek, lashes dusted with sleep and breath freshly minted.

Jungkook’s oddly surprised, considering he’s appeared unannounced at your doorstep at the crack of dawn (not really).  “C-can I come in?”

You don’t budge.  It’s not because you’re about to say no, but because you’re still really tired.  So tired you stare at him for a moment too long, zoning out as you drink in his appearance.  He’s wearing the clothes from last night - the same animal-print silk shirt that hangs obscenely low and reveals too much skin.  You recognise it because you’d picked it out for his date.  

(The one where he was supposed to ask Jiwon to be his girlfriend, you fail to note.)  

You repeat yourself around a yawn, ignoring the way your vowels crash into each other and barely make it to the light of day.  “What’re you doing, Jungkookie?”

“Please let me in,”  the doe-eyed prince at your door mumbles, gaze bouncing somewhere beyond your shoulder, over your face, to the wayward strands that’re the result of sleeping too well.  Everywhere but your eyes.

“Fine,”  you huff, stepping back to allow him over the threshold.  You don’t miss the way he smells - his signature cologne and something else.  If you had to guess, it’s her perfume.  It’s distinctly floral, drawing you into a garden of roses.  You don’t know if you like it.

Without a second glance, you’re shuffling away from him, dragging your slippered feet into the kitchen.  

You move on autopilot, spooning coffee grounds into the Chemex filter.  You don’t bother asking whether your surprise guest wants any - assume he does, because the fiend somehow lives on caffeine - and settle against the counter as you wait for your kettle to whistle.

You’re still so tired you feel like you might fall asleep standing up but you think you do a good enough job of levelling Jungkook with a solid stare.  “So?”

“W-what?”  

It’s been so long since you’ve last heard his stutter that it surprises you, recentres your attention from your own exhaustion and has you frowning.  Something’s happened.  Must have.  There’s no other explanation for it - for how he looks at you, so uncertain like all those months ago when you’d smashed his glass house to pieces.

“What’s going on?”  You’re demanding, full to the brim with concern as you round on him.  He flinches away as if your words have burnt him, leaning into the stainless steel side of your fridge.  

(Silly Jungkook - that won’t protect you.)

“What do you mean?”

The early hour has, luckily, dampened your usual aggression.  He’s stalling, you can tell.  You hate when he does this.  You tell him as much, glowering at him as he tries to shrink his nearly six foot frame into something small.  “You’ve showed up at my house unannounced.  What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?”

He looks as if he’s on the brink of repeating himself, biting it back behind his neat white teeth when your expression grows darker, more frustrated.

It’s impossible to stay dressed in red, lethargy swathing you up like a cocoon and softening your edges.  You sigh heavily - perhaps a little overdramatically - and go about completing your coffee ritual.  Patience works best with Jungkook, you’ve learned.  (Though, he sorely tests your own sometimes.)

With a steaming mug in your hand and the other passed over to him, you gesture toward your living room.

He nods once - a small up and down of his head.  

“So.”  You try again, softer this time, warmed by the heat that permeates ceramic and settles your sleep-ravaged nerves.  You’re seated cross-legged on your couch, facing him with your back pressed to the arm rest.  He’s half-turned to you, coffee cup slotted between his thighs.  Feet turned in, mouth wobbling with the intensity of how hard he’s chewing into his bottom lip.

“I couldn’t do it.”  The words rush out too fast, tumble into each other in such a way you have to take a second to comprehend what he’s said.  Couldn’t do… it?

You stare at each other for a long while, you trying to understand and him refusing to meet your stare.  

When realisation dawns on you, you can only imagine how you look.  It must be terrifying by how Jungkook practically tries to crawl into the cushions of your couch, shoulders rising around his ears like a turtle.

“You didn’t ask her?”  It explodes out, a question that demands an answer. 

He’s staring past your head, unblinking.  You’d almost worry he was a robot if his voice weren’t so damned human, full of melancholy and rounded by his lisp.  “I c-couldn’t.  It was just…”  The shrug he offers is half-assed at best, not nearly good enough to excuse him.

“Just what?”  

“Just—”  There’s the wiggly hand gesture you do that he’s adopted, his ink-strewn hand waving through the air like a floppy chicken foot.  He thinks it’ll earn him a pass but your unrelenting glare indicates otherwise.  He deflates, hand falling back to his lap, clutching his mug like it's a makeshift security blanket.  “It didn’t feel right.”

What did that even mean?  Feel right?  

Love didn’t just appear, fully-formed and complete.  It took work and dedication and the understanding it could all come crashing down.  Didn’t he understand that?  Hadn’t you drilled that into his head?

You exhale through gritted teeth, push breath past enamel that acts like a solid steel gate.  

“Jungkook, it’s not going to just ‘feel right.’”  You’re air quoting, all tact thrown out the window.  “You like her, don’t you?”

You expect him to nod immediately.  He doesn’t. 

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” 

“You like her, right?”  

“I think so.”

You want to tear your own hair out.  Instead, you press the pads of your fingers into your temple - apply pressure in hopes of alleviating the tension that settles there.  “So, you like her.”  It feels a bit bad, condescending in a way;  you don’t mean it in any way but supportive.  You just want him to be happy.  “But you couldn’t ask her out because it didn’t feel right?”

“She’s not you.”  

He’s looking at you now, looks like he might have a heart attack if he does so any longer.  But he doesn’t tear his gaze away when you meet it, entire expression warped into something you don’t recognise.  Hope, maybe?  Fear?   

“What?”  You wish it were hard rather than feather light, almost lost to the cacophony in your head.

The hollow of his cheek is thrown into stark relief, the line of his jaw clenched tight.  He repeats himself even as you’re the one looking away, shaking your head as if that might will away the irksome answer.  (It won’t.)

“Don’t say things like that.”  

It’s hurt that flashes through his expression and strikes you right in the centre of your chest.  His face crumbles, brows knit together beneath his mop of shiny hair.  He looks so terribly sad - a kicked puppy, an abandoned deer.  Bambi, through and through.

“You asked why I didn’t do it,”  he reasons in a voice far more solid than he looks.

“I didn’t think you’d say something so ridiculous.”  It’s cruel.  “You’re making a bad choice.  You’re into this girl.  Don’t be dumb.”

His features rearrange, then so do his limbs, entire body lifting from his seat in jerky, disjointed movements.  “I’m not dumb.”  There’s a reproachful quality to his words, a distaste he doesn’t bother to mask.  It’s not something you’ve ever faced, surprising you enough to draw your eyes to his face.  

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you know.  

When he leaves - sets his cup in the sink and storms out the way he’d come before you have time to stop him - you wonder if you ever knew him at all.

“Okay.  Spill.”

Yejin’s tired of your abrasiveness, tired of having her head bitten off every time she tries to approach you with a question.  You can’t blame her.  You’ve felt like shit the last week, sleep-deprived and generally pissed off.  

All because of a doe-eyed idiot.  

“What?”  It’s less snark, more sigh.  You’re counting down the minutes until you’re free, until you can curl back up in your bed and try to sleep like you’ve done the last four days.  

“What’s going on with you?”  

“Nothing.”  

“Bullshit,”  she hums, trailing after you as you move behind the counter.  “You’ve been in a bad mood all week.  I’ve never seen you this upset like, ever.”  She’s right, of course.  You’ve always been very careful to keep business separate, pushing the customer service agenda no matter what.  “Did something happen?”  

You grit your teeth.  An expletive careens off your tongue when you slam the tip of your finger within the drawer you’d just shut.

“____,”  she tries again, concerned.  

“Nothing happened.”

“See, I don’t believe that because like, look at you!”  She gesticulates wildly, adorned wrists clinking loudly.  “You look like hell—”

“Thanks.”

“—and you’re being clumsy and like, I think I know you well enough.  So just tell me?”

You hate that she’s right.  It doesn’t mean you’ll relent, too caught up in your own strange brand of strength to unload.  (Maybe it’d be helpful.  Probably.  But you’ve never found comfort in other people.  At least, not like this.)

“Yejin.”  Her name stops her in her tracks, hurried and insistent as you pull your coat on.  “It’s fine.  Really.”  You’re swallowing your pride - practically choking on it - as you offer what you hope is a reassuring smile.  “I just need to get some sleep.”  And figure out what the hell to do about Jungkook, but that’s a can of worms you refuse to open and certainly not here.

Maybe at home, over a glass of wine, fueled by liquid courage.  

The bottle of Côtes du Rhône has aided you more than you’d hoped, offered an armour that slinks over your shoulders and drives your fingers to action.  It’s prompted something - started the ball rolling.

(Idly, you think that might not have been a very good idea, but it’s too late to care now.)

“You’re here.”  You being him and him being Jeon Jungkook, hair damp and imposing frame draped in an oversized sweater.  He looks terribly uncomfortable standing in your doorway - more so than he had days ago - hands shoved into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie, dumb sneakers pigeon-toed as if he’s ready to take flight.

“Y-you asked,”  he mutters, refusing to meet your stare.  At least, you think he’s refusing.  It’s a little hard to focus when there’s this fine film turning everything hazy, the bitter taste of wine heavy on your tongue.  

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy then, though he never quite meets your eyes.  It’s a smart tactic - level you with a look then immediately bounce it away.  It has you coming back for more, eager to refocus his fretful gaze until it’s locked with your own.

“Will you come in?”  You sidestep, give him enough space that he can enter without feeling suffocated.  He still hesitates, takes a second too long in deciding.  “I won’t bite.”

You don’t miss the better promise that comes under his breath.

“So.”  This feels oddly familiar, him backed into the corner of your couch again while you settle across from him.  He hums a noise but offers nothing further.  

This is how it’ll be then.  Fine.  If he wants to be this way.

“You like me.”

He sputters - doesn’t mean to, by how big his eyes go.  He hadn’t expected it to come barreling out of your mouth.  “I—  I don’t—  I didn’t say that.” 

If it were anyone but him, you’d take his reticence as rudeness.  

“Tell me why.”

The poor boy blinks, stares at you full on now.  Can’t look away, locked in the intensity of your stare.  

“W-what?”

“Tell me.”  You sip carefully at the liquid in your glass, swirl it ‘round and ‘round.  “You said that girl wasn’t me but you haven’t made a case as to why that matters.  What have I got that she doesn’t?”  

“You’re serious?”  

“As a heart attack, Jungkookie.”

The brunet swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion.  You think he might say no, outright refuse.  You don’t expect him to start rattling things off like the list lives in his head, answers printed against the darks of his eyelids.  

“You’re funny.  You’re honest.  You speak your mind.”  You don’t mean to scoff but his reasons are so shallow - so easily found in other people.  He must read the doubt in your expression, pushing on to cut you off from doing the same to him.  “Y-you care about people even when you pretend like you don’t.  You’re just as scared of being hurt as I am.”  

For the first time in a long time - in years and years - you feel seen.  As if he’s pulled back the cover of your unpublished draft, memorised the redlines and notes in the margins.  

“I don’t—”

“You have this face you make when you’re proud of me.”  He’s turning his own fingers over in his lap, knuckles white from the strain of locking them together and undoing them again.  “When I do something you approve of or when I make you laugh.”  

There’s something thick in your throat.  

“You make me want to try.”  He clears his own, speaks so softly you have to strain to hear it.  “Y-you make things not so scary.”  

It grows heavier, harder to breathe as you stare at the man sitting across from you.  He’s focused wholly on his hands, too caught up in his words to help the way he plucks at his skin, fiddles with the silver chain that loops around his wrist.

“You know what I need, even before I know myself.  You make me laugh.”  He laughs, an almost choked sound that fizzles and rattles bashfully. “You look really, really good in your work skirt.”  You know the one he means - all black, pencil-fit.  Makes your legs look a mile long, despite the fact that they aren’t.  

You can’t help but join him, a little breathless, with a strange sensation behind your ribs.  Like sunshine on a cold day, filtering past the walls you’ve put up, streaming through the windows that’d replaced drywall when Jungkook had waltzed into your life with his fluffy hair and boyish laugh.

When you speak, you don’t even believe your own words.  They come of their own accord - a defense mechanism.  “I can’t.”

As if he knows - as if he’s got a polygraph going, Jungkook shakes his head, meets your eyes and holds you there with the intensity of his attention.  “Can’t or won’t?”

“I—”

“I’m not asking for the world here.  Just a chance.”  He’s got a peculiar look on his face.  “Don’t you think you owe it to me?”

“Excuse me?” 

All of a sudden, he’s close.  Closer than you’d expect, far closer than he should be.  There’s nothing beyond his expression, the way his eyes twinkle under the dimmed apartment lights as he stares you down.  The scent of his cologne is cloying now, the fading nectarine hint of his shampoo making your mouth water.  

“You kind of ruined my life.  I think this makes us fair.”

You sputter, gasp, make sounds that careen off your tongue and fill the air with nonsense.  You’d ruined his life?  (You’d made it better - made him see the light, you thought.)  You’re working to find your voice, ready to tear into him for this abrupt accusation.

Then he’s giggling, nose scrunched and delight filtering past his teeth.  

“I’m kidding.”  

It feels like whiplash.  You’ve created a monster.  

“But you do owe me, I think.  So why not?”

You only have yourself to blame when you say yes, conceding to his pretty eyes and sweet smile.

Dating Jungkook is easy - as effortless as breathing.  He’s a bona fide dreamboat plucked from your wildest dreams. 

He texts when he says he will and picks you up every night, stamping a kiss to your cheek the moment you’ve clocked out.  He holds your hand and refuses to let go, rubbing soothing circles over your wrist when you’re tired or stressed or annoyed.  He brings flowers to every date - insists on them even when you tell him they’re a waste of money.  He knows your coffee order, has learned the art of the pour over when he wakes up before you.  

You understand now, why he’d stayed with women who were terrible for him (to him).  If you were them, you wouldn’t have let him go either.  Would lock him up in an old tower like your own personal Rapunzel.

(You say that because you’ve been on a Disney movie binge.  He is, unsurprisingly, very into these sorts of things.)

“Open it,”  he pleads, pushing the luxurious pink box towards you.

You stare down at the lid, the Agent Provocateur label glaring back at you.  You can’t help how you laugh, sound bouncing around his bedroom.  “Are you trying to tell me something, Jungkookie?”

Your lover - not boyfriend, because you haven’t had the talk and it’s still new and you’ve never been this careful before - rolls his eyes, pushes the box closer with a huff.  It’s adorable.  

“Just open it.”

You finger the soft bow strapped across the top, play with the neatly cut ends.  You can feel the impatience radiating off Jungkook, feel those pretty doe eyes boring holes into the top of your head.  You take your time even more now, unravelling the ribbon with slow, measured twists of your wrist.  

Whatever you’d expected to find nestled among the tissue paper, this isn’t it.  

You’d imagined he’d be into something feminine, all pristine white lace and scalloped cups.  Something he could brush his cheek against, run his fingers over.  

Tucked within the box is something that doesn’t even earn the title of lingerie, a few flimsy straps bonded together.  Blush pink satin and dressed with buckles, you turn it over in your hands, trying to make sense of the way it all connects.  Surely there’s more to this.  Surely, darling innocent Jeon Jungkook doesn’t expect you to wear just this?

“Do you like it?”  You can sense the eagerness in his voice, that desire he has to please that seems to never go away.  

“What is it?”

“It’s a playsuit.”  

“A playsuit?”  You’re no stranger to experimenting in the bedroom but this— this looks like it’s meant to harness a dog in.  Would it even fit?  Soft as it is, it seems terribly restrictive, made for someone with model proportions and no body fat at all.

He nods, round eyes so bright, so hopeful, you can’t voice your concerns.  “Will you wear it?”

It fits you better than you’d expected.  Or at least, you think it does.  If Jungkook’s reaction was any indication, it’s heaven sent - the perfect gift wrapping for a present he’s been dying to claim. 

The buckles you’d studied earlier - that had taken you too long to strap together - dig into the tender flesh of your hips, the shape of his fingers imprinted along the metal.  He grips you so tight you think you might bruise, left with a reminder of his love for weeks.

“S-so wet,”  he groans, sound dropping into an almost whine as the swollen mushroom head of his cock brushes through your folds.  The satin of the playsuit has been long since tugged aside, stained with your arousal as it cuts into the softness of your thighs.  He repeats the motion once, twice, coats your clit in pre-cum that leaks out of the slit and adds another layer of slick.  “So ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod dumbly, drool around the two fingers he’s got slotted against your cheek, ring finger pressed down over your tongue.  

“Use your words, gorgeous.”  As if you can, as if you’re not riding the high of your last orgasm and about to come apart beneath his playful teasing.

The palm of his hand meets your overstimulated clit with a sharp smack, the cold of his teeth bared against your neck.  He doesn’t like when you don’t answer - much prefers to make an effort even if it’s indiscernible.

“What did I say?”  

Something garbled comes, a plea as much as a sob.  Another hit lands, just shy of the pearl that throbs with need and pain, landing instead on the sensitive, already red skin of your inner thigh.  He soothes it this time around, massages your own wetness into the roses that bloom beneath his touch.

When he speaks again, it’s so utterly sweet, tender as can be.  The Jungkook you’ve known for months and not the devil in disguise.  

“You like this, don’t you?”  His kisses are searing, laced with reverence that feels at odds with the way he forces your gag reflex, taps his curved cock against your pussy.  “You like what I’m doing?”

“Y-yes,”  you cry, spit pooling past the sides of your mouth, dripping lewdly across your breasts.  The hand cradling your chin is all but drenched, dark ink thrown into stark relief by the way it slides over his skin.  Jungkook hums against your cheek, licks a fat stripe from shoulder to ear.  

“Good girl.”  Two fingers spread across over your heat, pointer and index sliding over your lips.  You’re spread obscenely - can see it in the mirror that rests against the far wall.  Can see how the head of his cock peeks between your thighs, runs the same path over and over with each languid, slow roll of his hips.  “Such a good girl for me.  My perfect girl.”

Your shoulders shake with the effort you put into nodding, throat clenching on reflex when the three fingers in your mouth flatten over your tongue, hold you steady in place.

“Pretty girl wants more, doesn’t she?  Wants me to fill her up?”

He’s teasing you, the bastard.  Dragging his aching erection against your cunt as you writhe against him, desperate.  It’s amusing to him - you can read the delight in the reflection, see it shining bright like a beacon when he pulls his hand away and recentres it across your chest.  Digits tease at the already pebbled buds, swollen and sensitive from how hard he’d sucked them into his mouth earlier.

“Say it.  Say you want me.”

You do, without hesitation, without fear.  You know he’ll catch you.  “I want you.”  

He sinks into you the same instant the words fall, holds you tight against him when your entire body begins buzzing and threatens to do the same.  Your walls feel like a vice grip around him, greedily sucking in his cock as he slams home, ruts into you like a wild animal.  

Strong as he is, he’s weak to the noises you make - the broken sobs that spill off your tongue and make up the prettiest sound he’s ever heard - and how you feel absolutely perfect, wet and warm.  The muscle in his thighs strain, pleasure vibrating up the notches of his spine, setting every nerve ending alight with its ascent.

“B-be mine,”  he returns, practically begging as he spreads you wide, making you take everything he has to offer.  Heart and soul and stupidly huge, perfect cock.

“I am.  I am.  I am,”  you chant, tears welling along your lash line.  They fall when his rhythm stutters, when the heat overwhelms and you’re coming for the third time that night, crying his name like it’s the only word you know.  

They continue to pour, carve trails down your reddened cheeks as you reach nirvana, wait for moment he’s right there with you.  It doesn’t take long - a few more punishing thrusts into your fluttering heat - and then he’s found his bliss, crying into the silk of your hair, spilling inside you. 

It doesn’t happen how you thought it would - a shy question poised over dinner, sealed with a sweet kiss on the way to the car - but it means just as much.  Breaks you apart as it rebuilds you, fills you up as it splits your seams.

You’re his and he’s always been yours. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @shaybtsforever @we-found-wonderland-in-1989 @justanothergirlfromeurope @jalexad @bonnyskies @coffeeismylife28 @haeilove @purplespaceymermaid @sunsetsnsirens-blog @beingbeings​ @veronawrites​ @notmontae97​ @papillonsgf​ i’m really hoping i didn’t miss anyone e___e

[skzfelixity]

Love Me Or Leave Me Part 2 | Chishiya Shuntaro [Alice In Borderland]

Chishiya x Reader

Summary: Still at the beach, you decide to return the cards by yourself while not believing Chishiya’s feelings. However, an incident with Niragi changes your mind.

Warnings: just a punch, niragi being niragi

part one

tags: @shyloh-the-cornsnake​

You woke up in a room, which apparently wasn’t yours. Your ceiling wasn’t as clean as this one for sure. The last thing you remembered was Chishiya’s confession in the rooftop, he must have left the beach by now. Wrong-

“You’re awake,” Chishiya entered the room, sitting at the table near the bed. You assumed this must be his room, realising that you had never been in here. He just stared at you as you observed the room, expecting questions to come out from your mouth.

“Why are we still here?” That was the first thing you wanted to know. He told you he would take you with him but you were still at the beach, his plan couldn’t have failed.

“Right after I tased you, Kuina informed me that every exit was guarded by militants so we had to abandon our plan,” he leaned back on the chair, his hood up his head and hands in his pockets. That meant that they lost the chance to leave because he was looking for you but he didn’t seem mad about it. You felt bad. You would feel less guilty if it was only him who stayed behind but it was Kuina as well. His great desire to leave the beach was thrown away because he wanted you with him. That also should mean that he has feelings for you- no, that can’t be it.

“You should have left before looking for me.” You rested your back on the bed frame. No matter how much you wanted to hate him, you couldn’t. If he left, he would probably be safer. He stood up and walked over to you, sitting on your side of the bed. “There was no point in leaving without you and there is no point in living without you.”

You were surprised at what he said, for sure he had his way with words. You chuckled, not believing him. You wanted to believe him but what he did a few hours ago didn’t let you. He knew you wouldn’t believe anything he said, that wouldn’t stop him from trying though. “What about the cards? Did you return them?”

He pulled the cards out of his pocket, answering your question. You gasped at the sight. If they find out that the cards are missing, hell knows what will happen. They might kill everyone here. “We have to return them!”

Chishiya smirked at the mention of ‘we’, placing the cards back in his pocket. “It’s too dangerous to go back there.”

“We have to-”

“They’ll never suspect us. I was the one who told Hatter someone got in there!” He tried to calm you down by bringing up a realistic assumption. He wasn’t going to risk yours or his life by returning those cards, he’d prefer to burn them instead.

“That doesn’t matter! We have to return them or else innocent people will get hurt!” The last thing you wanted was people to die because of what you three did. You couldn’t just vanish their hope to go back to the real world because of a stupid plan. Sure, most of them would die anyway but you didn’t want it to be this way.

“You don’t know that-” Chishiya isn’t dumb, he knows people will definitely die. 

“I am sure of it, Chishiya. Unlike you, I don’t want people to die because of me,” you brought up what happened a few hours ago. You had to be the considerate one among you two, it wasn’t right to let people die for your sake.

“What matters now is you and I being safe, we can’t do something so risky!” He ignored what you said about him, he didn’t have time to care for others. He wouldn’t sacrifice himself for someone he didn’t find worthy, who would do that? Judging by your personality and what you previously said, he knew you would. Your selflessness angered him, he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. You’re the only one he would look out for, apart from himself.

“So now you care about me being safe? You know what? I am going to return them myself!” You stood up from the bed, determined to prevent a mass murder from happening.

“I am not letting you!” He reached out for your hand. He knew someone would see you, you didn’t know about who was wandering in the hallways. It was after midnight, the time when most people went to their rooms.

“I survived your plan, this will be nothing compared to that,” you yanked your hand out of his grip. You hated what he was doing. He was trying to look out for you when he literally had you in danger a few hours ago. You couldn’t understand him, even thinking about what was going on inside his head made you dizzy.

“Don’t make me tie you to the bed,” he stood up from the bed but you pushed him down. His back on the matress with you on top of him. One of his hands brought you closer to him, you didn’t resist and leaned into his ear. “Kinky but I’ll pass,” you quickly snatched the cards from his pocket and stood back up.

You walked to the door, him following you immediately. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back so you can use me for another plan of yours in the future.”

He watched you reach for the doorknob, trying to think of a way to stop you. His heart started beating faster at what you said, he really had messed up.

“I am sorry.”

Your hand fell from the doorknob to your side, these were three words that you never expected to hear from him.

“I am sorry that I used you before realising what you meant to me. I was stupid. I can’t lose you this time so please don’t go.” His eyes still held the dullness you were so used to, making it harder for you to believe him. You didn’t want to be fooled again, it would be embarrassing. You reminded yourself that the only person you could trust was yourself. Pushing your feelings for the male aside, you laughed loudly. The exaggerated reaction helped you ignore the pang in your chest. “Nice one! Who taught you to be so good with words? Did you take classes by some 1980′s gentleman?”

Although pissed that you just laughed at what he was feeling, the only thing he could do was sigh. Normally, he would curse and be mad at you but the guilt of his actions didn’t allow him to. “You’re probably hurt right now but-”

“Probably? Probably, Chishiya? You knew I loved you and you used that to satisfy your desires!” You were tired of dealing with him. You didn’t want to deal with him and his manipulative tricks anymore, it was getting exhausting. “If I don’t get caught while returning those cards, I don’t want to see you ever again.”

Before he could say anything, you left. His heart wanted to run after you but his brain told him not to so he didn’t. He sat down on his bed with a sigh. You survived earlier so you would survive now too. He didn’t need to worry, right? Lies, people here are dangerous.

“What are you sighing for?” Kuina entered his room, curious about why he seemed troubled. “Y/N is on her way to return the cards right now,” Chishiya informed her but it was like he reminded that to himself.

“Yeah, I know. I told her where the actual safe is and confirmed the password,” Kuina shrugged and her eyes fell to the bed. It was untidy and Chishiya doesn’t sleep at this hour so it was safe to say he had you lying here a few minutes ago.

“And you just let her go?” Again, it was like he was talking to himself.

“I assumed you already tried to stop her. If the person she loves didn’t manage to stop her, how could I?” She smirked, knowing well that he was disappointed at himself that he failed to stop you. 

“She doesn’t love me anymore,” he sighed as he fixed his bed. It hurt to say that, you no longer smiled at him. You gave him the sharpest and coldest words, he never thought something like that would bother him that much.

“She does. You’re the one who doesn’t love her here.” She spoke the obvious, anyone who observed you two would think that Chishiya didn’t care about you at all. But it really wasn’t about how others viewed your relationship.

“I do.. love her.”

“Then act like it if you do!” She yelled frustrated. She really wanted Chishiya to be with someone that could change him for the better and that was you. The vibes he was giving off weren’t the usual boring and dull ones. She could have ran away from the beach but she chose to stay behind for you two to be happy together.

Before Chishiya ran to the rooftop, he offered her the cards to run away on her own in case he didn’t find you in time. She didn’t expect it from him, Chishiya giving up on his long planned desire to leave? Sure there were possibilites of finding you in time but they both knew they were low. Even if he did, he’d have to spend some time on persuading you. Although it would be smart to get the cards, she refused.

She was a little touched to see him in love, that’s definitely what he was. He was in love with you, he wouldn’t abandon his plan for someone who wasn’t important to him. “Whatever, I’ll be in her room.”

“I guess he found the one.” Kuina smirked, satisfied to have figured out that you were the one that was slowly breaking down Chishiya’s walls. Maybe one day, you wll be able to leave the beach all three of you together.

[...]

You stood outside Hatter’s, praying that he wasn’t in there. You took the risk and opened the door, not seeing anyone around. You rushed to the deer painting, taking down. You entered the code, flashbacks of your first try hitting you. You would have tried to open the wrong safe if you didn’t back out. It’s really crazy how one decision can change your whole life.

You left the room, your mission accomplished. You didn’t know but you really just saved the whole population of the beach. Actually scratch that, you knew.

“Oh, Y/N!” A very drunk Niragi bumped into you. You were a few meters away from Hatter’s room and you had no reason to be there, that would be suspicious. You gave him an awkward smile, trying to cover yourself up as his eyes roamed your body.

He walked closer to you and snaked an arm around your waist, “Since we’re alone, why don’t we have some fun?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as his breath hit your ear. There was no point in answering, he will have it his way anyway.

“Niragi!” Aguni pulled the boy away from you by his shirt, “Quit messing around, you’re on patrol!”

You finally could breathe properly thanks to Aguni, reminding yourself to thank him in away he wouldn’t understand. “What are you doing here?” He glared at you as Niragi got out of his grip, rolling his eyes at his boss.

“I got dragged here by that idiot,” you pointed at Niragi, who was trying his best to walk properly. Aguni nodded at you and followed the beach’s most dangerous man.

You sighed in relief and went to your room. You didn’t want to think what would have happened to you if he found out why you were really there. The only thing you wanted to do was go to dream land. You didn’t even bother to turn on the lights, you went staight to your bed.

“You’re late,” Chishiya turned on the lamp you had next to your bed, revealing himself. He had been pacing around the room, waiting for you to come back. Too worried that you wouldn’t return.

“I met Niragi on my way back,” you shivered, remembering his breath on your ear. Disgusting. Chishiya noticed and knew Niragi tried something, I mean Niragi is Niragi. “What did he do?”

“Nothing that could kill me.” You shot another remark, reffering to his plan.

“Yet.” He rolled his eyes, reminding you that Niragi is dangerous as well. He was actually more dangerous than everyone in the beach.

“Can you leave? I told you I don’t want to see you again.”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” he smirked at you, hands in his pockets. His usual posture.

“You let me open the wrong safe? You must really love me huh?” You changed the subject, your heart falling to your stomach. He really sacrificed you like that.

“Y/N-”

“Please go, I am tired of you.” You didn’t have the energy to deal with him. Talking to him was like trying to solve a riddle. Did he mean what he said? What was the hidden message behind his sentences? It drove you crazy how complicated he was. You wanted him to be simply honest with you.

“No, you are not. You still love me!” He expected you to come back into his arms after all this ‘persuading’ but you didn’t. Too mad that he was wrong, you finally saw a different expression on his face. You seemed to not love him anymore and he didn’t want to accept that.

“I don’t love y-”

He kissed you, he did what his heart wanted him to. He missed you, he never knew he needed you. It took one dangerous plan to make him realise that you were special to him, he wished he had been better at figuring out feelings. For once, he felt stupid. You pushed him away harshly, his eyes widening at your action. “You should really leave.”

He nodded, what did he expect? To be kissed back and make up? Obviously not, you were about to tell him that you didn’t love him anymore. He didn’t want to hear it so he kissed you. He walked out of the room, ready to accept the fact that he couldn’t have you anymore but then he heard your sobs.

You wanted to kiss him back but it was wrong to do so. He always has to confuse you and make you wonder if he really loves you. He always did that. You were genuinely tired of him but you needed him. You dropped down on the floor, the sobs making your whole body vibrate.

Why fall in love in a deadly world like this? Love here is unnecessary, it will break you and distract you even more. However, there was no point in fighting for visa days if you didn’t get to see him afterwards. All the moments that made you keep on fighting meant nothing to him. Deeply hurt by that, you pushed him away even though you have a clue of what he actually feels for you. 

You believed what he said to you but you don’t want to risk it again. You acted like you didn’t for the sake of your pride and well being. The second one didn’t seem to work out though.

The only time you could feel at peace was when you were asleep. Surprisingly, you didn’t dream of him so you climbed up your bed in order to escape this mess.

Your sobs made Chishiya’s heart break. He never cared to consider someone else’s feelings but he cared about how you felt. Not only about how you felt for him but also how you felt in general.

You wouldn’t cry if you didn’t love him, right? As you can see, feelings are complicated to Chishiya too. He didn’t know how to handle them or tell them apart.

He had a hard time understanding you too, you weren’t the only one who was struggling. After you stopped crying, he decided to enter the room. You had fallen asleep on your bed and your eyes were swollen. He sighed as he covered you with a blanket.

He wasn’t going to give up on you. He will keep chasing you until you realise he is being sincere. Because to you, he wanted to be the most thoughtful, caring and loving person. You deserved more than a manipulator using you and he wasn’t going to be that to you anymore.

He’ll just have to try harder.

“Did you say goodbye?” Kuina asked him, leaning on the wall as he closed the door of your room.

“Actually, I decided to fight a little longer.” He had his usual smirk on but his eyes were different. They held hope, they were almost... bright. Kuina was more than excited to see Chishiya running after you, that’s not an everyday sight.

[...]

You woke up with the sunlight hitting your face. You didn’t remember leaving the curtains open though. “Does it bother you?” Chishiya stood in front of the window, blocking the sunlight from your view.

“It doesn’t bother me more than your face.” You turned around, your back facing him. Seeing him first thing in the morning wasn’t what you needed now, you needed to get away from him. Deep down, you were happy he didn’t give up on you and still came to see you.

You knew Chishiya, he would never go out of his way for someone. But here he was, in your room.

“Let’s go eat breakfast,” he rubbed your back, “As far as I am aware you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“You aren’t going to give up anytime soon, are you?” You asked, turning to face him. Trying to not seem affected by the physical contact.

“Nope,” he smirked at you. He stayed up all night and came early into your room, he wasn’t going to give up now.

“Fine. I hope food makes my day because your face just ruined it,” you got up, finally noticing the emptiness in your stomach.

“Keep telling yourself that, princess.” He chuckled at you, he lowkey liked your mean remarks but he preferred you being yourself with him. You weren’t cold and distant, this wasn’t you. It was just the act you put on when he was around.

“P-princess?” You exited your room, trying not to face him. He hadn’t used any pet names before, this was new. He really was trying hard.

Before Chishiya could tease you any farther, Niragi walked up to you. “I have something to discuss with the lady.”

“She’s with me now, come find her later.” Chishiya glared at him. No idiot would stop him from spending time with you, especially him.

“Look shorty, I don’t have time to waste with you.” He pointed his riffle at Chishiya and then rested it on his left shoulder.

“Then don’t and leave,” he held your hand and intertwined your fingers.

“Chishiya, you should go eat,” you grabbed the end of his sleeve with your other hand, squishing it. “I’ll talk with Niragi.” Although afraid of what Niragi would do, you wanted Chishiya to not get involved.

“But-”

“Yeah yeah, you’ll probably see her later.” Niragi dragged you away by your forearm. He made sure no one was around and pinned you on the wall. “So Y/N, tell me what were you doing near Hatter’s room yesterday?” He slammed his hand next to your head and placed on leg in between yours.

“Don’t you remember? You dragged me there.” You lied to him, not looking him in the eyes. You were so scared of him, he was unpredictable. He could rape you, kill you, hit you or let you go. “Oh honey I wasn’t that drunk, I remember finding you there.” He whispered in your ear. “So tell me before I kill you,” he pointed his riffle at your head.

“You plan on killing me anyway.”

“Actually that’s far from it,” He licked your neck, his cold piercing making contact with your skin made you sick to your stomach. He was about to kiss your lips but you pushed him away, making him stumble a few steps back.

“You fucking bitch!” He lifted his hand, forming it into a fist. You were ready to get hit so you closed your eyes. However, nothing happened. You opened your eyes to see Chishiya on the ground, blood running down his nose. “Chishiya!” you bended down next to him, examining his nose. He for sure got punched hard. He pinched his nose in order to make the blood stop.

“She was with me when you dragged her away yesterday,” Kuina appeared with her arms crossed. Chishiya brought her with him to help. He knew Niragi wanted to talk about what happened yesterday, he wasn’t going to leave you on your own.

“If you ever come near her again, I’ll be sure to burn you alive.” Chishiya stood up, glaring at Niragi. The blood from his nose was still flowing, staining his grey shirt.

“Oh I am so scared!” He mocked him and waved his hands in a defensive manner. He turn on his heel to walk away, “I’m not done with Y/N!”

“This brazen punk!” He yelled out frustrated. He’ll kill him one day, he made this promise to himself.

“Chishiya you’re bleeding,” you pointed out the obvious. You just didn’t know what to say, everything happened so fast. It was like you were still waiting for that punch from Niragi.

“No shit, Sherlock.” He was about to use his sleeve to wipe it off but then he decided not to. He wasn’t going to ruin his favourite white jacket because of Niragi. He wiped it with his grey shirt, which was already soaked with blood.

Kuina was silently giggling at the mess Chishiya was. She’d never imagined him bleeding and definitely not because of Niragi. “It isn’t funny, Kuina.” He glared at her as his nose stopped bleeding. She nodded her head, waving goodbye at you and taking her leave. She had to go laugh her ass off in some other place.

“Come on. Let’s get you to my room,” you wrapped an arm around him and started walking. “You know I can walk Y/N,” he chuckled at your thoughtfulness. It had been so long since you touched him, he truly missed you.

“Yeah, right!” you removed your hands from him. Too embarrassed to look at him, you walked a few steps ahead.

“Just a reminder, I didn’t say you should take your arms off.” He caught up to you, swaying an arm over your shoulder. You faced him, taking a better look at his face. “Kuina wasn’t wrong for laughing, you’re a mess!”

The dried blood under his nose and lips made you laugh. Blood and Chishiya just go well together. (#doctorjokes)

Chishiya scoffed, he just saved you and you had the audacity to make fun of him. Nevertheless, he was glad to see you laugh because of him again.

You sat him down on your bed, running to the bathroom. There wasn’t a first aid kit or wet wipes. Great, what a paradise the beach was. You grabbed a toilet paper roll and a bottle of water and went back to him. Going to find Ann for supplies didn’t seem like the ideal solution right now.

“Take off your shirt,” you poured a few drops of water on a piece of toilet paper, it was the best alternative for wet wipes you could think of. Chishiya wiggled his eyebrows, taking off his jacket and then his shirt. “It’s soaked in blood idiot!”

“I witnessed a raspberry juice watefall,” you giggled, trying not to look at his shirtless body. It would be rude and embarrassing to do so. You started wiping the blood under his nose, holding him still by his chin.

“You’re welcome for the sight then.” He chuckled, noticing how hard you tried not to look away from his face. Your hands were slightly trembling as you wiped his lips, careful enough to not tear apart the toilet paper.

“Thank you,” you smiled apologetically at him, “I didn’t think you were the type to get punched for someone.”

You finished cleaning him up and placed the alternative wet wipes on the table nearby. It took him some time to reply. He didn’t know how to depict what he felt when he saw Niragi ready to punch you, he wasn’t good with words yet. “I am not. I stepped in because it was you who was about to get hurt. I’d rather be hurt than see you hurt.”

Suddenly the question that was eating you away a few days ago came up to your mind. You felt like asking him again, it seemed like the answer would be genuine this time. “Do you really love me now?”

“Y/N,” he cupped your cheeks to make sure you were looking him in the eyes. His eyes were sparkling and shining. You couldn’t find that dullness in them anymore, “I love you.”

“You know what?” You smiled at him, your heart fluttering. He wasn’t pretending, you knew it. Maybe you needed to make an effort to understand him better too.

“What?” He smiled back at you. Not a smirk, not a sarcastic smile but a sweet and bright one. It was the first he smiled like that to you, you wanted to make him smile more often. He was even prettier with a genuine smile on his face. “I love you too.”

“I am glad to hear that again,” he pulled you into his lap, resting his head on the crook of your neck. These three words never meant anything to him until you gave them meaning. He wanted to hear them coming out of your mouth directed to him and only him.

“Can we sleep together?” he mumbled, trying not to yawn. He hadn’t slept for more than thirty hours and the comfort of your hug made him want to sleep in your arms.

“Chishiya-”

“Sleep Y/N, sleep.” He pulled away from your neck, giving you a small smile. He’ll fulfill your thought another time, all he wanted now was to actually sleep.

“Oh- sure.”

He held you so close to him, legs tangled together. He was almost asleep when your stomach growled, reminding you two that you forgot about breakfast.

“I think you should go eat,” he let go of you only to have you cling tighter to him. “After we wake up.”

You were back at where you started. Not being able to leave his side, searching for him every minute of your life. But this time, he felt the same.

[cinnaminsvga]

Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it, but luckily you’re there to help.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk, mild pain play, mutual masturbation, jungkook has piercings, accidental edging (you’ll... understand), oc doesn’t have a gag reflex lol → words: 17.2K → a/n: @jincherie... you are my enabler and i will die on this hill only if you die on it with me. but of course i know you will die with me. because we only have one braincell and if either of us die, we both do. thank you for commissioning me to write this btw... even though i was already writing this so you just basically sent me money for free. ANYWAY... WORLD IS FUCK BUT I LOVE RHA!! ALSO JUNGKOOK HAS A BIG DICK!! EPIC!!

The club lights make it difficult for Jungkook to see anything. He doesn’t understand why club owners can’t just jack up the lighting for once; it isn’t like you’re going to be able to find a hook-up through echolocation or something. Though, judging by the way people seem to be groping their way through the masses, perhaps there really is no need for illumination anyway.

Jungkook normally hates this kind of scene. Drinking is all good and fun, especially when he’s with his hyungs, but going to overly crowded places makes his skin crawl with anxiety. It takes almost three shots during pre-game for him to get anywhere near this kind of place and it’s all thanks to Seokjin. That hyung thrives in these kinds of environments, like a clipped butterfly relearning how to fly.

“I’m gonna get shit fucked wasted!” Seokjin hollers, his arm looped carelessly around the only other person who hates being here as much as Jungkook does. He watches passively as Yoongi tries to bite a chunk off of Seokjin’s hand, but despite his inebriation, their eldest hyung is able to dodge it quickly.

“Not before I kill you, then everyone else in this place, and then myself, first.” Yoongi growls, nudging Seokjin off his smaller frame. If the world hadn’t been swaying underneath Jungkook’s feet, he might have offered to help his small hyung do the deed. If there’s anyone who hates nightclubs more than Jungkook, it’s Yoongi. Jungkook is frightened to know how Seokjin managed to convince Yoongi in the first place, and he’d prefer not to find out what sort of terrible blackmail the elder must have under his sleeve to accomplish such an arduous feat.

Just as Yoongi is about to connect his steel-toed boot up Seokjin’s freshly bleached asshole, Jimin returns from the bar with three glasses held precariously in each of his fists. Jungkook wonders yet again how this is possible due to the sheer tininess of Jimin’s hands, but then again... What can’t Jimin do when it comes to alcohol?

“I’m back! Here you go, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, seamlessly handing Jungkook a glass of what he hopes is just a regular beer like he asked. Knowing Jimin, he probably ordered the strongest shit they have. He peers at it suspiciously, but it only takes half a sip for Jungkook to confirm his guess. He grimaces, nearly coughing out a lung at the strength of the poison running down his throat.

“That tasted like fucking metal polish! What the fuck, Jimin?”

“I know! It’s great isn’t it?” Jimin smiles angelically, handing Yoongi one of the drinks. Yoongi looks at the swirling piss-yellow liquid as if it holds the secrets to the universe. It appears as if he’s decided something when his eyes light up.

“Oh my god, this drink is gonna kill me,” he says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. Jimin nods, not even trying to hide his deception.

“I promised the bartender a blowie if he could give me the strongest shit they had,” Jimin shrugs. “Dude literally went to the back room and took out this bottle that looked like it came from Napoleon’s secret stash of hooker piss.” He sniffs the drinks thoughtfully. “Yea, I could believe that.”

“I hate this!” Jungkook cries at no one in particular.

“Tough shit! We’re in this together!” Yoongi groans, downing the entire contents of his drink in one go before promptly being swallowed whole by the crowd. Seokjin hoots, hastily waving goodbye to Jungkook and Jimin before following Yoongi and diving into the sweaty masses like a seasoned Olympian.

“I hope they don’t die like last time,” Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to take a big gulp of his drink. It sears against his throat like a brand, which probably has an inscription saying “Jeon Jungkook has bad taste in friends.”

Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Well, like Namjoon said a while ago, we’re gonna meet by the bar in 2 hours to check if everyone is still alive and we’ll find out then. Okay, Kook?”

Jimin has reminded him of this for the umpteenth time, though he can’t blame him for being extra careful. Last time the whole gang went to the club, Hoseok had gotten stuck in an elevator at his hook-up’s place and had cried for 5 hours straight before one of them thought to look for him. The time before that, Taehyung had ingested two times his bodyweight of margaritas and he had found himself in Japan the next morning with an extra $500 in his pocket.

Yeah. They’re idiots, but at least they’re idiots who will try not to make the same mistakes as last time. Key word being “try.”

Jungkook looks around the club, but he can’t find any awkward looking lanky people anywhere. “Where is Namjoon-hyung, by the way? Haven’t seen him since we split up.”

“Who the hell knows?” Jimin laughs, the sound drowning out when the DJ suddenly decides to play a death metal version of Dance the Night Away by Twice. Jimin’s eyes light up. “Ooooh shit! This is my song! See ya later, Kook!”

“W-wait, those drinks! Aren’t they for the others––“

“Bitch, you think these are for them?” Jimin begins to double fist his alcohol with the thirstiness of a man in a desert, or a twink confronted with two dicks. Either or.

To Jungkook’s horror, the crowd has seemingly grown thrice in size since they’ve arrived and he watches as Jimin’s body is slowly getting consumed by the masses, though he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He leans into a random guy's back, a look of bliss on his face. He salutes lazily at Jungkook. “Anyway. See you in 2 hours, Kook! Try to have fun!”

Try to have fun, his ass.

Unlike Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t particularly feel like being crushed by sweaty hormonal bodies; instead, he chooses to head to the bar. He surreptitiously dumps his drink into the trash, feeling kind of bad for discarding a free drink, but Jungkook doesn’t want to get shit-fucked wasted like the rest of them are. Perhaps he’ll be the designated driver today, even though his vision is still kind of swimming. Well, he could probably walk in a straight line if he used all his brainpower. Which isn’t a lot, but you know. People learn to make do.

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there.

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. His eyes bug out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you.

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

Thunk. Was that the sound of his heart dropping out of his ass, or his brain pressing against the left side of his skull, or his dick hitting the roof? Jungkook isn’t sure, but he does know he wants to see where this night will take him.

He lets you lead the way, squeezing through sweaty bodies and elbowing a stray hand or two. Jungkook swears he feels a guy grope him on the way out, but before he can even sock the guy in the jaw, you’re already one step ahead of him. You hiss menacingly at the dudebro, raising your long acrylic nails in a show of dominance like you’re from some wildlife documentary. The guy audibly whines, running away from the two of you with his tail between his legs.

Jungkook stares at you incredulously. “How the fuck did you––”

“I’ve gone to tango classes with that dude. I have his mom’s phone number,” you explain nonchalantly. Instantly, Jungkook feels himself hardening in his pants.

You manage to get to where the washroom stalls are. You brazenly walk past the line of girls at the women’s section, but Jungkook is even more confused when you also pass by the men’s section. You turn the corner, where a bunch of tables and chairs were being kept. Then, you begin to knock down some of the extra chairs stacked against the wall, which is where Jungkook discovers there is an unused wheelchair accessible washroom.

“Why is this washroom being kept hidden?” he wonders aloud, sneaking guilty looks over his shoulder. No one seems to have noticed that the two of you are blatantly trespassing property, but you don’t look all that stressed about it.

You look at him weirdly. “Dude. You can barely walk in this club without getting groped, poked, or doped. As much as I’m all for accessibility, I don’t think wheelchair-bound people are gonna have much of a good time here.”

Jungkook feels as though he should be saying something profound about the need for establishments to be accessible or something, but the strain in his pants really wasn’t doing many wonders on his verbosity right now. Maybe next time.

You make quick work of the barricade and you get the door open in no time. You push him hastily inside, making him yelp as he tries to find his way around the darkened room. You flip the switch on somewhere behind him, illuminating the washroom to find… a toilet. That’s it.

“Well, they certainly didn’t think about interior decorating,” Jungkook says, laughing nervously as you click the door locked. He turns, watching as you pull the black elastic that was on your wrist and begin to tie your hair. You smile cheekily at him, the implications of what is about to happen very much apparent.

“Nah, they didn’t. But the room gets the job done and that’s all we want, don’t we?” You purr, taking the two short steps you need to get close to him once more. You trail a well-manicured nail down his chest, circling around his nipple teasingly but not doing anything more. His breathing turns more shallow, and he knows for sure that his eyes must look crazed to you right now.

You bring your finger lower and lower, grazing the top of his belt buckle and staying there. You look up at him, licking your lips as your gaze trails down to his own. Once again, he feels paralyzed as you take him in and he wishes for all the horny gods from above that you would finally end the torture and finally close the distance.

Taking some pity on him, you rest your lips against his throat, suckling gently enough that Jungkook knows it won’t leave a mark. His hands instantly come up to grab your waist, as if urging you to go harder, to make it hurt.

You smirk against his skin, deciding at that moment to bite down, hard. Jungkook yelps, before the sound morphs into an unabashed moan. His cheeks pinken, embarrassed at the volume of his voice.

“I-I…”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook…” you whisper, soothing the bite with your tongue. You pop off his skin, your lips slightly redder than before. “I’ll take good care of you, darling.”

See, Jungkook doesn’t doubt you in the slightest. As for his own skills at taking care of you when the time comes… now that’s a little bit of a gamble.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, per se… He lost his virginity during his last year of high school to some girl he met at a party, and suffice to say, he didn’t last long. He’s had a few girlfriends in the past, but none of them ever wanted to get with him once they saw his dick. You see, he had a bit of a problem…

He wasn’t small, by the way. Don’t get him wrong. In fact, he was kinda––

Jungkook is pulled away from his thoughts when you suddenly drop down to your knees, your hands grabbing onto his thighs for support. He’s almost worried that you’d injured yourself from how fast you’d dropped, but you don’t seem all that bothered by how deftly your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt.

When you get it loosened, your hands stop by the button of his jeans and you look up at him with expectation. Jungkook almost whines when your hands drift back to your lap.

You snort, amused. “What? You think I’m gonna do all the work here, buddy? Come on, strip for me.” you say, sitting on your haunches as you wait for him to move.

The strain in his pants was getting downright painful at this point, so Jungkook is more than eager to follow your orders. Still, his hands are shaking the entire time, so it takes him a few extra seconds before he can finally unbutton his stupid jeans and pull down his stupid zipper. Even through his loose boxers, the outline of his dick is very apparent, with a small wet spot already staining the front of his boxers a darker blue.

“Uh, I have to say a disclaimer first though,” Jungkook squeaks, suddenly shy under the intense gaze you were pointing straight at his dick. It twitches slightly, and your eyes follow it like a cat ready to pounce. “I’m… kinda on the bigger side, so I just want to ask if you’re sure––”

“Baby, I was sure even before I came to this club,” you say, trance-like. Your fists clench and unclench by your sides. “Now, shut up before I change my mind.”

“But––” Jungkook doesn’t get to finish his sentence, stunned to silence when you quite literally rip his boxers off of him like a magician trying to prove something. His dick springs up half-way, still not fully hard as it’s always taken him a little bit more goading before he can get to full mast. Yea, he was that big.

You stare at it for a moment, going cross-eyed as you stared at his tip head-on like some sort of perverse gun barrel. You don’t move for so long that Jungkook is afraid that he might have freaked you out with the size of his cock, though you wouldn’t be the first in a long shot. He’s about to apologize, prepared to pull up his pants in shame and walk home with half a log in his crotch. He’s already shifting his jeans back up when you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait. Are you, like, only half-hard right now?” you ask, voice quiet.

Jungkook flushes. “Y-yeah… It gets a little bit bigger when I’m fully… You know…” he says, trailing off.

You’re still looking at his dick, but after further assessment, Jungkook realizes that you don’t look horrified in the slightest. In fact, you look pleased. “Jesus fuck you’re huge! Like… almost abnormally so.”

Jungkook literally feels like he’s going to die (and he hates that it’s kinda making him even hornier). “I guess so?”

“That’s a fucking log! You could stand on that thing!”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but––”

“Seokjin had told me you were huge, but I didn’t believe him because, well, the way he described it was that you had a literal third leg hiding under there. Who would have thought that Seokjin isn’t full of shit after all,” you say, awestruck.

“I’m really not that big––wait, Seokjin has talked to you about my dick? What the fuck? Since WHEN?” Seokjin was just out there in the world? Telling strangers about his dick? That hyung is seriously getting smashed WWE style the next time he sees him, and it’s NOT going to be sexy.

You wave him off. “Oh, don’t worry. He doesn’t just tell anyone. He let it slip because he was defending your honor,” you shrug.

In the midst of Jungkook’s mental breakdown at the realization that one of his closest friends just told a random girl that he’s got a meter long King Kong dong, he doesn’t notice that you’ve already stood up from where you were kneeling. You pull down the toilet seat cover, seating yourself on it and rubbing your reddened knees with a pout. “Ouch. Damn, I’m not used to kneeling for men anymore. Sorry, where was I? Oh right!”

You snap your fingers together, smiling gleefully at Jungkook. “So! I dragged you in here to give you my proposition, you see. I have a deal to make with you.”

Jungkook looks down at his cock, which was still red and dripping pre-cum, before turning back to you. “And this has something to do with… my dick?”

“Precisely!” you cheer, glad that he seems to be on the same page as you when he was in fact, not. “Sorry about tricking you, by the way. I’ll suck your dick after this if you’re still game, but only if you agree with my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Yep,” you say, popping your ‘p’ once more. “You see, I have an ex-boyfriend. His name is Lee Taeyong, ever heard of him?”

Jungkook vaguely knows the upperclassman, though he can’t say he’s ever spoken to him. “Kinda. What does he have to do with me?”

“Well, if you really heard of him, then you’d already be one step ahead. Seeing as how it’s not already connecting for you––” you point to his dick, poking the sensitive head with the grace of a 5-year old at a petting zoo, “––then you don’t know that Lee Taeyong has the biggest dick on campus. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook repeats. He still doesn’t follow.

“Well, I wouldn’t know either because I’ve never seen his dick, so––”

“Wait wait wait. Wait.” Jungkook’s hamster brain is running a mile a minute. There have been way too many absurdities spoken in the last five minutes and he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough to deal with your insanity right now. “Let’s dissect this one at a time, shall we? First of all, how can you not know how big your boyfriend’s dick is?”

“My ex-boyfriend. And we only dated for like three days, and I don’t fuck until a week has passed, okay? I don’t play like that,” you say as if you didn’t just lure Jungkook to this dingy washroom only to give him blue balls and trauma.

“Okay, whatever. So what if he has a big dick? What does that have to do with me?”

You roll your eyes. “How can you not understand yet? I’m on the hunt for our university’s biggest dick, of course! And you, Jungkook, might just be my ticket to the number one prize.”

There is a long pause. Jungkook stares and stares at you, waiting for you to shout “Surprise! You’re being pranked, bro!” and for all the cameramen to come out and shower him in confetti and dollar bills or something. But no, nothing like that happened. He just continues to stand there with his dick out, while you sit on a dingy toilet seat with your legs crossed comfortably as if you were just two friends having a regular conversation.

After a while, Jungkook comes to a conclusion. “You’re being serious.”

You snort, annoyed as if you were the one being inconvenienced. “Of course I am, dude. I don’t stalk just about anybody to see their dick. I’m not that insane.”

Jungkook feels as though your judgment on sanity should probably be taken with a grain of salt. “S-sure. Right. You’re definitely not insane.”

“And you have a big dick! I’m glad you can see where I’m coming from,” you say, nodding sagely. You peer at his dick once more, brows furrowed as you think deeply to yourself. “Hmm… Yea, I’d say you’d be at least equally as big as him. If all else fails, I can split the winnings and get half the amount of money if you––”

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

“Yes–I mean, what? No!” Jungkook repeats, shaking his head furiously. "Are you even hearing yourself? You expect me to get into a dick measuring contest with your ex just so you can, what? Get revenge on him or something?"

"Not for revenge." You lean closer to him, face inches away from his dick but you don't seem perturbed in the slightest. "It's for money," you whisper, grinning slyly.

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

You clap your hands excitedly. "Exactly! So Taeyong and I didn't actually break up on bad terms. We only got together to make Doyoung, his crush, jealous enough to confess his feelings. But now, that dumb bitch thinks that now that he's with Taeyong, he can make fun of me for not being able to handle Taeyong's dark horse cock––"

"Can you please stop talking like an insane person," Jungkook pleads. His comment remains unheard.

"––so we made a bet that Taeyong doesn't actually have the biggest dick on campus and that I'm dating a guy with an even bigger meat thermometer than he does," you finish, snapping your fingers with a flourish. There's a twinkle in your eye: it's misplaced excitement coupled with extreme insanity, Jungkook realizes.

"That's good and all, but there's just one problem."

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

"We're not exactly dating, are we?"

"Details, details... What Doyoung and Taeyong don't know won't hurt them," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says, leaning against the grimy bathroom wall. He goes to tuck Jungkook Jr. back into his pants, his dick finally softening after the last ten minutes of psychological torture courtesy of yours truly, but you're quick to slap his hand away, making him yelp in surprise.

"No! I like looking at it," you say. You stare at his dick with rapt fascination. "It's kinda like looking at a weird, deformed baby leg. Beautiful, but haunting all at once."

Jungkook huffs, staring at you in equal parts disbelief and awe. If he thought Seokjin was mentally unhinged, then you're definitely on your way towards uncharted psychotic territory. It was kind of amazing how you could just say shit without any brain to mouth filter, in your own twisted way. "Listen, lady. I don't even fucking know what your name is, but I am not helping you win some stupid bet and showing my dick to even more strangers than I have to, okay?"

You consider him, lips pursing slightly. "Why, do you have any other plans this weekend?"

Jungkook falters. "I... No, I don't––"

You shrug your shoulders, as if that's the end of that problem. "Then it's settled! I don't see why you can't just do this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"For the last time, I won't do it even if––"

"I'll split the prize with you? 50/50? That's $1000 for having a huge dick! Every incel's wet dream!"

Jungkook pauses in his rant, choking on his spit. His jaw drops comically, unsure if he heard you right. "Did you say one... grand?"

Hook, line, and sinker. You know you caught him the moment his eyes bugged out of their sockets. You smirk, crossing your arms triumphantly as you gaze upon his desperate and broke college ass (and dick). “So? Having second thoughts?"

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He tries to wrap his head around the number, unsure if he should be worried about how ready he is to drop his pants for money. Have I completely lost it? Am I that much of an idiot? he wonders, but then again… He’d be an even bigger idiot for letting free money go down the drain.

“Where is this money even coming from?” he asks, even though he knows his guard is already dropping quickly.

You wave your hand flippantly. “Oh, Doyoung is filthy rich. I imagine that $2000 is nothing to him,” you say, picking at a hangnail. “It’s not much money to me either, but my pride is mostly at stake here. If you want, you could take all the money as a prize, so long as you make that bitch eat his heart out.”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch and he knows that you notice. “Two… thousand…” He accidentally moans, gripping his thighs to prevent himself from nutting. “That’s…”

You tilt your head, arching a brow. “Not enough? I could put in an extra $500 if you’re really against this whole thing. To be fair, I wouldn’t wanna expose my coochie to a random person either––”

“Two thousand five hundred? Are you fucking insane?” Jungkook exclaims, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, but it still feels like his lungs are on fire.

“Okay, three grand it is but I’m not going any higher than that,” you huff, shaking your head. “Mr. Jeon, you really do drive a hard bargain, though I always notice that well-endowed men tend to think they deserve the universe, so I’m not surprised.” You chuckle to yourself, as if anything about this situation is worth laughing at. Jungkook feels like that one time he had inhaled an entire helium balloon in one breath when he was younger: kinda nauseous but also kinda euphoric. Is it bad that his dick is stirring awake right now? Hello?

You put your hand out, looking at him expectantly. “Well? Do we have a deal or not?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and accesses his options carefully. Does he:

Give up his low self-esteem for money and enter an actual dick-measuring contest with some stranger;

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

He exhales, a migraine already throbbing incessantly in the back of his skull. He thrusts his hand forward, gripping yours harshly in a firm handshake. “I’m in,” he says, without missing a beat. Your smile brings a shiver down his back, and he can’t help but wonder if this is what Judas felt like when he betrayed Jesus, except he’s betraying no one but his own self-worth.

Well, he always did wonder how much his life was worth and three grand doesn’t seem like that big of a stretch. Oh well.

“Nice,” you chuckle, seemingly vibrating from excitement. You slip behind him, grabbing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans (which were still, by the way, pooled around his thighs because his dick was still out. Just to remind you guys in case you forgot. OP doesn’t want you to ever forget about it.) You flick open his phone, cackling maniacally when you realize he doesn’t even have a password on.

Jungkook squawks. “Hey, what are you––”

“I’m saving my number on your phone,” you explain. He can barely see what you were typing into his phone contacts, but he doesn’t miss the way you attach a heart emoji beside your name. You open his texts, sending yourself an octopus emoji that just so happened to be Jungkook’s most frequently used emoji. You snort. “Octopus emoji, huh? Seems appropriate… Can’t help but think it was a sign that this might have been destiny.”

“I just like takoyaki…” Jungkook defends himself sulkily.

“Yea? Well I like cock,” you say. You pause, furrowing your brows. “Oh, I meant to say chicken. Same thing.”

You hand back his phone, grabbing your small purse that you had thrown aside onto the washroom floor. You straighten your dress, looking to all the world as if you hadn’t just offered a stranger three grand to show his dick. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook. I expect to see you soon, maybe this weekend if you’re free. I’ll text you the details of when we’ll meet next. Toodles!” you wave, sending him a flying kiss for extra measure. Jungkook’s eye twitches, and he wonders not for the first time tonight if he was trapped in a coma and was slowly passing away.

Just as you are about to head out the door, you stop in your tracks, turning back to face him. You give him a curious expression, gaze dragging downwards until you were staring down the barrel of his dick once more. “Hey, sorry about leaving you hanging like that, by the way. I would love to help you finish, but I have a ride to catch. Raincheck?”

Not waiting for an answer, you saunter away with a spring in your step. The door swings back closed, leaving Jungkook alone for the first time in what feels like forever: just him, his dick, and the promise of three thousand dollars on the horizon.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Jungkook groans, sliding down to the floor. He fists his cock in his hand, groaning loudly when he feels the pleasure jolt up his spine like electricity. As he listens to the sounds of his heavy breathing and the slick mess in his hands, he can’t help but wonder if Jimin was right… Maybe he did have a thing for insane hot girls who were out to kill him.

x x x x x

After Jungkook cleans himself up, he marches out of the washroom with as much dignity as he can muster. Which is to say that he walked out of there with his head bowed in shame, meekly navigating the crowded club in search of his friends.

It isn’t hard, considering that Jimin was currently hanging on the fucking ceiling from a disco ball. A group of men stand at the bottom, all of them eagerly eyeing his fat ass as Jimin dangerously humped the shiny ball of metal like his life depended on it.

“Okaaaay guys! The moment this disco ball drops, whoever catches me first gets to fuck me tonight so try your best to grab me~!” Jimin singsongs from his perch, howling madly as all the horny motherfuckers scramble all over each other, desperate to catch him lest he meets his maker.

“I. Hate. My. Life.” Jungkook sighs, striding past the group of men easily with his superior upper body strength. “Move, incels. This twink isn’t letting any of you simps touch his ass. He just likes the attention.”

“Aww, Jungkookie! Don’t ruin my fun~! Unless you wanna catch me and we can finally fu––” Jimin screams mid-sentence, just as the cord holding him and the disco ball snaps. All the guys step over themselves to catch him, but Jungkook is stronger and faster. He catches Jimin mid-air, snatching him in an instant and hoisting him over his shoulder. Everyone cheers and hollers, clapping for him as Jimin continues to giggle hysterically into his back.

“Yay! Jungkookie is gonna fuck meeeee,” Jimin pats him on the ass, but Jungkook ignores him. He goes around the club, searching for the rest of his friends until he has five dangling bodies hanging off his body like some six-headed freak.

Well, it’s soon going to be five-headed after he beheads Seokjin, whom Jungkook is certain just vomited all over the back of his jeans.

“I can’t fucking find Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook grits his teeth, his nose assaulted by the stench of Namjoon’s armpit as the elder contorts himself into a more comfortable position. “Stop fucking moving, you long-legged bastard. Why’d you have to be born with such good body proportions?”

“And why are you so hot, Jungkook?” Taehyung swoons from somewhere underneath Hoseok, who seems to be either passed out or dead; Jungkook didn’t pause to check for a pulse.

“Pretty sure Yoongi went home,” Seokjin slurs, a second wave of nausea hitting him as he struggles to keep the alcohol inside of him a bit longer. “Ugh… Said he saw his roommate and they went home together.”

“God, it better be his fucking roommate and not another person trying to sell his organs again.” Jungkook sighs. “Either way, we’re all going home. We’ve done enough damage for tonight.”

“Jungkookie, did you have any fun at all tonight? Didn’t see you around,” Namjoon quips, managing to wriggle out of Jungkook’s grip and fall face flat on the curb. He whines pathetically, not making a move to stand up again. “Ugh. I didn’t even drink a lot tonight so why...?”

“It’s because you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook supplies helpfully. He lets the rest of his friends down, making sure they are leaning against the wall for support (or sitting against the wall in Hoseok’s case). “Alright, I’m calling cabs. Seokjin-hyung, I’m staying over at your place tonight.”

Jimin, who was already slowly falling asleep where he stands, perks up in attention at that. “Wait, you’re coming home with me and Seokjin? Are we reaaaally gonna fuck?” Jimin tries to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, but to Jungkook, it just looks like he’s having a stroke.

“I’m done nutting for tonight. We are sleeping once we get home and that’s it,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms.

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

“OH SHIT HE FINALLY USED HIS PURPLE-HEADED YOGURT FINGER!”

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

Jungkook swears he had heard Hoseok speak amidst the yelling from his friends, but his hyung still remains mysteriously hunched over and dead to the world. “None of your businesses. Anyway, a cab is coming soon and I swear to God, if any of you piss or vomit in that poor man’s vehicle, I will make sure none of you live to see the light of day, okay?”

Jimin turns to Taehyung, who just happened to be beside him. “Not gonna lie, but I kinda jizzed in my pants just now. That was kinda hot.” Taehyung only nods in agreement.

An hour and thirty minutes later, Jungkook manages to get the last of his idiot friends home, leaving only him, Seokjin, and Jimin as they tiredly trudge up the steps to the apartment. It takes an additional twenty minutes for Seokjin to figure out where he’d left his keys, only for Jimin to raise his finger for them to wait as he hid behind some bushes while unbuckling his jeans. When he comes out of the bushes, pantless, he has a key raised with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Don’t ask where I keep this,” is all he says and Jungkook is glad that he had rejected Seokjin’s offer to permanently move in as their roommate.

They all stumble into the apartment, with Seokjin falling immediately onto the couch. He curls up into a little ball, snoring the moment his eyes shut. Jungkook wants to shake him awake, eager to interrogate him about what happened between you and him just a few hours ago at the club. Even if he wanted to wake him up, Jungkook is sure nothing can rouse the elder; this fact is confirmed when Jungkook dumps water on him, only for Seokjin to keep sleeping soundly like a baby.

“Well, hyung is dead. Guess it’s time for me to die too,” Jimin says sleepily, the horniness and insanity from the club already wearing off. He pats Jungkook gently on the head, pointing towards Seokjin’s room. “Sleep there. I’ll hand you an extra blanket because I wouldn’t trust that hyung’s sheets. Let’s sleep, yeah?”

Left with no other choice, Jungkook heads to Seokjin’s bedroom, jumping onto the unmade sheets and pretending not to notice the crusty unknown substance on the corner of the bed. He can’t fall asleep, not when he’s left haunted by the weight on his chest (and dick). Jungkook fiddles with his phone, staring wide-eyed at the name displayed tauntingly on his screen.

Y/N L/N.

He was gonna have a nightmare tonight, that’s for sure.

x x x x x

Jungkook wakes up early, much to his chagrin. He’d really like to stay dead to the world for much longer, but the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking is kind of a hard deal to pass up. Jungkook shifts in bed, cringing when he realizes he went to sleep in his jeans, and more importantly, that his pants felt a lot stickier than he remembered.

He lifts the blanket up, confirming his suspicions. “Fuck!”

Well, guess he didn’t have much of a nightmare last night after all.

He shucks off his clothes, disgusted by the mess he finds in his underwear. He hobbles over to Seokjin’s closet, cringing when he finds only one (1) clean pair of shorts left, which just so happened to have “PEE IS STORED IN THE BALLS” stamped on the back in cursive font. Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes.

Jungkook tiptoes out of the bedroom, confronted with the sight of Jimin pouring three mugs of coffee and Seokjin still slumped over the couch, a substantial amount of drool dripping down from the side of his mouth and forming a puddle on the floor. Jungkook takes a photo, saving it for later.

“Morning,” Jimin smiles from the kitchen, offering Jungkook one of the cups. Jungkook is certain that Jimin has no recollection of the events from last night, though such is Park Jimin’s way of life. He drinks to get fucked up, then he forgets, and then the cycle repeats itself anew. Jungkook wonders how Jimin always manages to wake up without a hangover, though God might have just given him a super liver in compensation for his lack of height.

“Hyung is still dead,” Jungkook states plainly, walking over to Seokjin and peering at him closely. Jungkook sticks a finger into his agape mouth, collects some of his spit, and then proceeds to give him the wettest willy of his life. Still no response.

“Let me try,” Jimin says, sauntering over to Seokjin with one of the cups of coffee. Jimin leans down, hums gently into his ear. “Hyung, wake up. We have coffee for you!”

Seokjin mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the couch stuffing. Jimin tilts his head, still smiling. Then, he dumps the scalding cup of coffee all over Seokjin’s crotch.

In an instant, Seokjin screams with the pitch of a banshee, swinging his arms wildly about and nearly knocking himself out with his own fist. Jungkook and Jimin watch passively from the sidelines, waiting for the elder to finish fanning his nutsack before greeting him a pleasant morning.

“WHY ARE YOU BOTH LITERAL DEMONS?” Seokjin hollers, jumping to his feet with his scorched balls and all. Taking pity on him, Jungkook walks over to the fridge, tossing his hyung a bag of ice. And by toss, it’s more like he pitches the bag straight into his dick with the ease and speed of a seasoned baseball player, eliciting another round of pained howls.

“YOU––ASS––” Seokjin seethes, clutching the bag of ice to his nether regions. He sits down on the adjacent loveseat, expression contorting as he cups his balls gingerly. “God, it’s almost like you guys don’t think I deserve basic human decency.”

“That was just a small part of my revenge for you, after you gave my contact details to an insane woman,” Jungkook sneers, miming a punch onto Seokjin’s handsome face. Seokjin doesn’t even flinch, too busy staring at Jungkook’s legs.

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

Jungkook looks down at the neon pink monstrosity around his hips. “You call these your thot shorts?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I got dicked down in them once. You should try.”

“Oh, did I hear something about revenge? I smell tea in here,” Jimin says, coming back from the kitchen with his own cup. “Well, I have coffee but same shit. What happened?”

“This––” Jungkook points an accusatory finger at Seokjin, “––asshole sent my location information to an insane stalker lady last night after he told her that I had a huge dick!”

Seokjin squints at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Y/N! She said you told her about how big my dick was and when she asked you where I was, you told her I was going to the club with you last night!”

“Oh.” Realization dawns on Seokjin’s face, which was quickly replaced by incredulity as he stares at Jungkook. “I assumed she asked for your contact details because she had a crush on you. I was just trying to get you some pussy, bro.”

“Yeah, Kook. Not gonna lie, but I’d be dicking down girls left and right if I had a dick as big as yours,” Jimin says, eyeing the bulge in his teeny tiny shorts with interest. “In fact, I’d probably be a top if I had a dick as big as yours.”

Seokjin laughs, nearly shooting out phlegm from the strength of it. “Oh god, don’t tell me. You couldn’t get your dick hard again? Don’t worry bro, if I had a dick as big as yours, it’d take ages for it to fill up too.”

Jungkook flushes, stomping his foot in embarrassment. “That! Wasn’t the problem! The problem is––”

“––that Jungkook nuts too quickly because he doesn’t have any practice,” Jimin tuts sadly, patting the younger with a pitiful expression. “Don’t worry, Kook. Hyung is open to giving you some pointers.”

“That’s not it either!” Jungkook screams, groaning in annoyance. “She came up to me because she offered to pay me $3000 to enter a dick-measuring contest!”

Jimin and Seokjin tilt their heads in tandem, still not getting it. “So?” they both chorus, giving him a blank-eyed stare.

“Are you guys out of your mind? I got bribed into showing my dick to some strangers like some kind of weird prostitute!”

“It’s not prostitution if you’re not engaging in sexual activity,” Jimin muses, taking a long sip from his coffee. He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t see how this is a problem. You show some girls your dick, and you get money. Dudes would kill to be in your position.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me,” Seokjin leers at Jungkook, and the younger almost can’t stop himself from landing another blow against the elder’s abused crotch. “You got roped into some bukkake orgy and now you’re asking your hyungs to help you? Don’t worry, Jungoo… You came to the right people. You see, Jimin and I have some experience with––”

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Jungkook jams his fingers into his own ears, screaming hysterically to drown out the sounds of Seokjin and Jimin’s combined laughter. Jungkook pouts at them, glowering pathetically. “Seriously, hyungs! Do you not see how fucked up this is? Who follows a stranger to a club, pretends they’re going to give you a blowjob, only to offer 3K for you to show some strangers your dick?”

“A regular Friday night if you ask me,” Jimin says, shrugging once more. Jungkook stares at him, realizing that maybe it was the wrong idea being friends with these two lunatics in the first place. Knowing Jimin, he’d probably been in much more lewd and compromising situations than Jungkook will ever have. Rumor has it that Jimin had once done a keg stand while having his dick sucked while on vacation in Japan.  

“Well, if you were really against it, then you could have just said no?” Seokjin points out, wagging a finger at him. “I know Y/N, and yeah she’s kind of demented, but she still knows that no means no. Surely, you haven’t considered the fact that you are 1) a pushover and 2) horny for her?”

“Well, yea––No, what––No!” Jungkook splutters, stammering wildly. His two hyungs grin salaciously, gazing at him knowingly. Jungkook can only groan, as he knows that they kind of have a point. He’s always been too weak for girls and money, so when you put those two things together…

“I might be addicted to the BBC tag on Pornhub, but you my friend… You’re in it for the BBCC,” Jimin snickers, patting Jungkook comfortingly on the back. Jungkook groans into his hands, slumping onto the loveseat beside Seokjin, whose icepack had long since melted and caused the seat to be uncomfortably damp.

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

“Big black credit card,” Seokjin pipes up, wrapping his own arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud. We all have been there.”

That’s the problem: somehow, Jungkook finds himself much too ready to accept his fate, eagerly awaiting when you’ll text him next.

x x x x x

After a much-needed shower at Jimin and Seokjin’s place, Jungkook tiredly makes his way to the nearby bus stop, ready to go home and sleep the entire weekend away. Screw his Biochemistry midterm on Monday––if he really is going to whore himself out to you, then he’s going to need all the self-care and therapy that he can get. His phone itches in the pocket of his shorts (yes, he’s still wearing the thot shorts), and he wonders if he should text his therapist and ask for an extra appointment later in the day.

Just as he’s about to pull out his phone, he senses it vibrate once, twice. He freezes in his steps, walking out of the way of busy pedestrians on the sidewalk and into a random clothing store. He sees the lone cashier staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he does not check if her gaze is filled with disgust or disgust. Probably disgust, he surmises.

Flicking his phone on, he sees two new messages from you and his heart immediately starts to hammer in his chest. No one has ever made Jungkook equal parts scared and excited, though he imagines you might have that effect on most people, what with how you look like the type to tie up unsuspecting victims to harvest their organs in your summer cottage up in the mountains or something. Or maybe that’s just Jungkook projecting.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey! sorry for taking so long to text you. my roommate tried to make cheesecake at 3am last night and i had to supervise in case he burned down the apartment.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ anyway, i was wondering if you were free later? some time after 5 maybe? let me know!

You already want to meet so soon. Jungkook exhales heavily through his nostrils, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself. Alright, this is fine. Jungkook is a big boy: he can handle going to a girl’s home without losing his mind. You didn’t say anything about this being the actual dick-measuring contest yet, so he can only assume this is just you asking for something else. Maybe to talk more? Maybe he’ll get a down payment for the prize money? Maybe you’ll follow through on your raincheck? God, is it wrong for him to have his dick plumping up in his shorts when you haven’t even done anything to him yet?

(On the contrary, you could say that you have done a lot for him over the past twenty four hours, though maybe not in the way most people would expect.)

from: jjk yeah i can meet you at 5. what’s this for?

from: y/n l/n ❣️ oh, nothing! i just wanted to talk to you about the actual competition and stuff. plus, i want to actually measure your dick, just so i can see how much you’re actually packing down there ;)

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

(This really isn’t a “whatever” type of situation, but honestly, Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say anymore. He’s officially lost his singular brain wrinkle. He’s smooth brain McGee over here.)

You follow up by sharing your location with him, and he’s surprised to find that you aren’t that far away from where Jungkook was right now. He really did mean to go back to his apartment first and get changed into something more… morally acceptable, but since he hasn’t been arrested yet for public decency, he should be okay with going to your place in Seokjin’s thot shorts.

There’s something invigorating about going to your place, dressed the way he is… Maybe the shorts are somehow giving him brain hemorrhage by indirect association with Seokjin. Either that or Jungkook simply loves torturing himself by embarrassing himself constantly. Well, at least he showered and combed his hair before leaving his hyungs’ place.

He inputs your address into his phone map, taking his sweet time as he walks the short distance to your apartment. As he passes by the buildings and street corners, he can’t help but think that he might have been around this area before. He tries to rack his brain, forcing himself to remember why this route seems so familiar.

“Oh right. Yoongi-hyung’s new apartment should be around here,” he muses to himself. He wonders if his hyung had gotten home safely last night. He should probably text him to make sure, but he’s got a literal dick appointment to attend to first, so he’ll remember to check up on Yoongi once he finishes up with you.

Does that make him a shitty friend? Probably. But would Yoongi do the same if Jungkook was in his shoes? Probably.

Yeah, Jungkook and his group of friends aren’t exactly role models for a sensitive and loving relationship, though that’s not much of a surprise to anyone.

He arrives at a decent looking apartment complex, complete with its own little water fountain at the entrance. He walks through the automatic sliding doors, peers at the shiny caution tape barring him from using the elevator. He stares at your address on his phone, groaning loudly when he sees “1603” much to his annoyance.

“No wonder she had such great thighs,” Jungkook mutters angrily to himself, preparing himself for the long and arduous journey his glutes are going to endure.

Years later, Jungkook finds himself at your door, his lungs jumping out of his throat as he struggles to catch his breath. He hunches over, elbows digging into his thighs as he wipes the sweat trailing down his neck. He can see your door just near the end of the hall, but just as he’s about to crawl his way over––

“Oh. Oh my,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see…

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook exclaims incredulously, mouth gaping at the sight of his thought-to-be-dead hyung coming out of the elevator. He splutters for a few more moments before pointing an accusing finger at Yoongi. “You used the elevator?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, turning to look at the elevator with a thoughtful look. “Oh right. The elevator works. The maintenance people just forgot to remove the safety tape from last week.” Yoongi looks back at Jungkook, gaze lowering to his legs. “I see that Seokjin has provided you with his thot shorts.”

Jungkook doesn’t even try to cover himself, used to his friends seeing him in varying degrees of undress. Like, what was Yoongi going to do? Take a photo of him and post it to his Twitter for his thousands of followers to see? He wasn’t that cruel...

Snap! Yoongi pockets his phone quickly, clearing his throat. “So,” Yoongi walks up closer to him, peering at Jungkook curiously. “What brings you to my apartment? Not that I’m happy to see you, but I assumed you and the rest of our idiotic gang would have died of alcohol poisoning the night before.”

“...It’s a long story,” Jungkook says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Say... Where did you go last night, by the way? I tried to look for you, but Seokjin said your roommate brought you home?”

“Yeah. She went to the club with a bunch of her friends. She offered me a ride with her because she knew how much I hated it there,” Yoongi says, frowning. “Fuck you, by the way.”

“What the fuck? What the hell did I do?”

“I don’t know. You’re wearing Seokjin’s shorts and my ape brain told me to retaliate out of instinct,” he explains. He takes another long, good glance at his shorts. “Color me surprised that they fit you, by the way. I’d assume your huge ass would be making it rip the seams, or perhaps your dick would be saying hello.”

Jungkook pats his junk proudly. “I know, right? Big guy decided to cooperate, for some reason.”

“Will you guys stop yapping it up out in the hall? I’m pretty sure Mrs. Sy can hear you two idiots from the first floor,” a voice from behind Jungkook hisses, causing the two boys to jump up in surprise. Lo and behold, your head is peeking out from behind your door, a perfectly stenciled eyebrow arched in annoyance. “Well? Are you two coming in or what?” You return back to your apartment, assuming that they’d soon follow.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Yoongi squints his eyes. “She’s my roommate. She’s a mutual friend of––”

“––Seokjin,” Jungkook finishes. The two of them pause, a metaphorical light bulb glowing above their heads.

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

“I see. The demoness has roped you into some hare-brained scheme, hasn’t she?” Yoongi nods sagely, rubbing his beardless chin. “Can’t say I feel sorry for you since I have to live with the wench.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Man. She’s insane around you too?”

Yoongi shrugs, walking over to your shared apartment. “I’m dating Seokjin, remember? Everyday, I suffer. Everyday, I feel my arm.”

When Jungkook steps into your apartment, he can’t help but be a little surprised. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected to see a medieval torture chamber in the middle of a metropolitan city, but he wouldn’t put it past you to somehow make it happen. Instead, he finds a fairly cozy-looking home, with comfy couches and filled bookshelves, complete with a small balcony that had a few fresh herbs growing in little pots. It looks…

“Yoongi-hyung. You definitely decorated, didn’t you?” Jungkook snorts, fingering the little kitty-patterned throw blanket draped on your couch. It’s soft and expensive, and definitely something only Yoongi would buy. The elder doesn’t even bother looking embarrassed; he just throws Jungkook the middle finger as he walks towards the kitchen.

You come out once more from one of the connecting rooms at the other end of the apartment, presumably your bedroom. You motion for Jungkook to come in. “Yoongi, you’re gonna bake all day, right? Mind if you let Jungkook and I speak alone in my room?”

Yoongi waves his hand disinterestedly. “Whatever. If you guys are gonna be freaky in there, I’m gonna start playing clown music to drown you guys out, alright? And I mean the remix versions with the extra clown honks.”

You roll your eyes. “Yea, yea. We get it. Grandpa needs his special time alone too.”

Jungkook’s heart jumps when you don’t even bother correcting him. Does that mean you guys really were going to do something freaky? Hopefully, Yoongi has learned to differentiate screams of terror from screams of pleasure, though it’s hard to tell if he’d care otherwise.

He follows you into your room and immediately notices the perfectly made bed and the neatly organized desk. Your curtains are drawn close, but the sheerness of it allows the mid-afternoon sun to brighten the room regardless. Your bedroom smells faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and he notices the small scented candle still smoking from when you’d put it out.

Nothing in the room indicates that he was inside the room of a psychopath, though maybe Namjoon or Taehyung would argue that anyone who makes their bed every day might be a little out of it. Jungkook continues to stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next except to stare.

You plop onto your bed, giving him an expectant look. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there by the door and have Yoongi see us measure your dick or what?” That gets Jungkook to move. He closes the door, pausing for a second before locking it for good measure. Then, he takes the short two steps that he needs to stand right in front of you.

You crane your neck, appraising him silently as he fidgets from the weirdness of it all. Your gaze trails down and Jungkook is not surprised when you stop to stare at his neon pink shorts. You snort, thumbing the edge of his shorts lightly. Jungkook shivers even though you’re barely touching him and he knows that you notice.

“Trying to get back at me for leaving you with blue balls yesterday?” you muse, letting go of the thin material. Jungkook wants to bring your hand back to his thigh, but he forces himself to keep still.

He looks down. “Not really? But I mean… Is it working?” He can’t help the hopeful lilt in his voice.

You laugh, patting him lightly on the thigh. “No worries, Jungkook. I did promise you a little something last night, right? I admit it was shitty of me to leave you like that, despite what you already might think of me. You probably think I’m just some insane bitch, right?”

Jungkook stares at you. “Do you want me to be honest or...?”

You roll your eyes, but you seem more amused than anything. “Save it. I know I’m weird. But, a promise is a promise…” You trail off, winking at him. “Besides, this works out for the both of us, right? I wanted to measure your dick before we meet up with Taeyong and Doyoung tomorrow, and I can help you blow your rocks right after. Seems like a deal?”

“Is it bad that I’m so ready to have you suck me off that I’m honest to God accepting your offer without any sense of dignity?”

You consider him for a moment. Then, “Nah. I know dudes who would do worse things for three grand and to have their dick sucked. I’d say you’re just doing you.” You place your hands back on his hips, thumbing around the garter of his shorts.

Jungkook groans, not even flinching when you rip his shorts and boxers off in one rough flourish. His soft dick dangles heavily between his thighs. “See, I’m not entirely comforted knowing that you agree with my moral dilemma.”

You clap your hands together, excitement glittering in your expression. “Who cares! Let’s get you all hard and ready, shall we?”

Jungkook squirms under your gaze, getting dick stage fright. “H-hey… This isn’t like porn… I can’t just get hard when I want to, you know? I need… stimulation or some shit.”

You nod, humming thoughtfully. “You’re right… And I remember you said something about taking a long time to get fully hard, right? That’s gonna be a problem indeed.” You lean forward, “So. Tell me, Jungkook. What are your kinks?”

If Jungkook was drinking water, he’s sure he’d be doing a spit take right now. Instead, he just chokes on his own saliva, coughing out his lungs at your sudden inquiry. “M-my kinks? What for?”

“To get you hard, duh.” You leave featherlight grazes around his thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It stirs something inside Jungkook, but not enough to do anything yet. You tsk, your brow crumpling as you decide what to do next. “What if I…”

You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs and inadvertently pull him closer. He stumbles forward, his breath knocked out of him despite how little you’d done so far. “W-wait,” he wheezes, shock running down his spine. “I––”

You smirk at him, digging harder until you’re sure to leave white little crescents littered around his thigh. “Aha. I guessed you’d be into that. You liked it when I bit you yesterday, didn’t you?”

Jungkook can’t even answer. He’s trying to keep his breathing steady, squeezing his eyelids shut. He hears you shuffling in front of him, and he soon senses your body press closer to him, alerting him that you have stood up. You wrap your arms around his neck, bending his head down until he can feel your breath fan across his lips.

Are you going to kiss him? But the contact doesn’t come; instead, your hands snake up to his hair, massaging his scalp for a moment before tugging on his roots harshly. It pulls a whine from his lips, the response surprising even himself. “S-shit,” he grits his teeth, urging you to do it again. He opens his eyes slightly, sees you watching him with rapt attention.

You lick your lips, looking at him like a meal ready to be eaten. The heat in his stomach builds, but Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. He doesn’t really have any more room in his brain anymore other than his unabashedly horny thoughts.

“Pain slut, huh? Somehow, it suits you.” You sound breathy, as if you were the one being pleasured instead. It makes Jungkook’s cock twitch a little, coming to life in front of you as you continue to assault his nerves.

“Do you like pain everywhere?” Your hands leave his head, coming down to the edge of his shirt. It’s a silent request, and Jungkook allows you to lift up his sweater, leaving him completely bare before you. You throw it somewhere to your right, eyes raking him up and down. Something about you still being fully clothed makes Jungkook’s inside light on fire, and it rushes blood down south before he can even understand why.

You chuckle, looking at his hardened nipples with interest. “Pierced? What a naughty boy you are.” You flick him there experimentally, and when Jungkook’s breath hitches, that gives you a go sign to do more. You fiddle around with the rosy bud some more, circling it with the pads of your fingers until Jungkook was a whining mess before you. “Sensitive… What a prize you are, Jungkook.”

Jungkook keens at the praise, even though he knows you didn’t really mean it in a good way. He finds himself wanting to please you: to get himself hard for you, to make you want him like how he wants you. He honestly can’t tell if you’re enjoying this as much as him, other than the way you’re watching him closely like a hawk.

He’s nearly half-hard, his cock jutting against your stomach. You peer down, figuring out your next move as he holds his breath, afraid he might do something wrong. Your fingers move once more, tracing shapes across his stomach and causing the muscles there to contract. He anticipates your next movements, his dick steadily throbbing.

“I suppose the easiest way to get you hard is to touch you here, right?” you murmur lowly. You grip him by the hips all of a sudden, your thumbs placed firmly into his Adonis’ belt. You inch closer and closer to where he wants you the most, and you watch him amusedly as he clamps down on his bottom lip, unwilling to sound desperate so early in the game.

(Was it early though? He’s been thinking about this exact scenario since last night, even plaguing his dreams. Still, it wouldn’t look cool if he just… busted a nut just from having his dick out. Even he knew that was kinda sad.)

Despite his best efforts, perhaps the desperation is apparent on his face because you eventually do take pity on him. You wrap your fingers around his length, not moving just yet. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear Jungkook exhale and swallow audibly, but you’re waiting for something. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as if you didn’t have his dick in your hands.

“What do good boys say when they want something?” You’re fishing, but your teasing tone breaks Jungkook down enough to release a ragged moan. He places his hands on your shoulder, using you for support as you slowly inch your hand down to the base of his cock.

He can’t keep the whine out of his voice when he says, “P...Please. Move?”

Your grin is wicked. “Of course, baby.”

Yeah, if you keep this up, Jungkook is going to come embarrassingly fast and he doesn’t think you’ll be quite pleased with that.

There is pre-cum leaking at the tip of his cock, dangerously close to pooling over and dripping all over your carpet. You are quick to swipe it off with your thumb, dragging it down his shaft for an easier slide. Jungkook’s abs tense, his teeth clamping on his bottom lip so aggressively that he almost splits it open. His grip on your shoulders tighten, but you don’t mind. You keep stroking him languidly, not going fast enough for Jungkook’s liking, but the concentration on your face is enough to make Jungkook release a stilted moan. It doesn’t take long until the wet squelch of your hand jerking him fills the room, coupled with the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing.

“You’re really wet,” you chuckle, watching with fascination as your words urge another drop of pre-cum to collect at his tip. “Are you always like this?”

“N-not… Really?” It takes a while for Jungkook’s brain to connect, caught between wanting to keep his eyes shut and wanting to stare at your cute hands trying to wrap around his dick. Your fingers can’t even circle the girth of his cock, the realization almost making Jungkook come there and then.

He’d never been one to be overly confident about his penis size, to be honest. He doesn’t really go around proclaiming it to the world, and his meager body count doesn’t help the fact that most people are unaware of the extent of his package. He isn’t itching to tell people either, but he’s starting to see why people would be envious of having a large dick. The sight of you struggling to pump his cock really makes for a pretty picture.

“Ugh, my arm is getting tired,” you complain after a while, getting frustrated when you realize that Jungkook is almost fully hard, but not quite. “Jeez. Your dick is so huge that it really takes a minute for the fuel tank to fill up, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Jungkook wheezes, nearly crying out when you flick your wrist in just the right manner. Your hand pauses by the head of his dick, squeezing tightly enough not to be painful, much to his disappointment. Jungkook is still too shy to ask for more.

You let go of him all of a sudden, causing a guttural whine to escape Jungkook’s lips. Ignoring him, you nudge him back a few steps, Jungkook complying wordlessly. He’s still confused until you reach over to your bed, grabbing one of your pillows before dropping to your knees. Jungkook’s jaw drops, spluttering incomprehensibly as you cushion your knees with the pillow.

You look up, giggling amusedly. “Reminds you of last night, huh? Not gonna lie, I’ve been itching to have your cock in my mouth, though I’m not even sure if any of it can fit. That’s not gonna stop me from trying.”

Oh God. Oh Geez. Jungkook is going to die, isn’t he? He vaguely remembers his dream from the night before, how your pretty pink lips had stretched over his dick, barely going past his head. He whines pathetically, another string of pre-cum finally dripping down and landing on your thighs.

You hold him by his hips, preventing him from moving as your hot breath fans across his wet head. You lick your lips, taking one glance up at him before giving his tip a quick peck. It’s nothing to write home about, but the way Jungkook’s breath catches is enough to encourage you to do more. You suckle his head a little, suctioning your lips and moaning slightly at the bitter tang. Your eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling nondescript patterns as you greedily engrave his taste into your mind.

The image of you enjoying yourself is enough to get Jungkook fully hard. He feels like he’s on fire, from his flushed cheeks all the way to his groin. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, unsure if you’d allow him to pull on your hair.

You must have noticed his plight, because one of your hands leaves his hips to grasp his own, bringing it to your hair. You pop off his dick for a second, lips already redder than before. Jungkook wishes he could kiss you, but he’s still so unsure. “You can pull my hair, but if you push me down further than I’m willing to go, I’m stopping immediately, okay?” Your voice is authoritative and your gaze is steely, but it only prompts Jungkook to moan in reply.

He nods, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly his head bobs. You smirk, appeased by his obedience. You return to your ministrations, rewarding him by going further down and bobbing your head at a snail’s pace.

Jungkook’s sanity is barely hanging onto a thread. He wants to thrust into your wet mouth, never having felt this sort of pleasure in his life. He’s beginning to understand why Jimin is such a slut, and he wonders why on earth he’s been denying himself things like this. His eyes are half-lidded, but he’s determined to watch you as your masterful tongue brings him to the edge of hysteria.

When Jungkook doesn’t think your mouth can go further down, you surprise him once again. You go lower, and Jungkook feels your throat swallow around him until he nearly screams. Drool pools in the inside of his mouth, as if Jungkook’s body doesn’t know what to do with the pleasure. His legs nearly give out, but your hands keep him mounted.

His toes are curling, thighs trembling. “Fuck,” he whines, unable to stop himself when he thrusts a little into your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean to–”

You glance up at him. Your eyes are tearing up, but otherwise you look unperturbed. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein there as you slowly come up for air. You swallow the mix of saliva and pre-cum in your mouth, licking your lips like you’ve just had a 5-star meal. You look absolutely debauched, though Jungkook knows he’s probably not doing much better.

“No gag reflex. It’s fine,” you shrug, as if you’d just told him about the weather. Your voice sounds hoarse, roughened by the assault of his dick on your throat. “Are you close?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, but– “Yes,” he says. He’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon, sweat dripping down his neck. You observe it drip down his body, as it curves down his neck and to his chest.

“You aren’t coming until I say so, got it?” You warn. He nods, cock twitching in desperation for your mouth to continue what it was doing.

But instead, you reach back to your bed, and Jungkook finally notices the tape measure that you’d left there. Oh right. Jungkook is brought back to reality, suddenly remembering why he’d gone here in the first place.

“This will only take a second, baby,” you whisper lowly, and Jungkook’s conscience is shot out of his head once more. Call him baby one more time, and Jungkook is sure to bust his load. He’s worried he might gain a Pavlovian response to the word; getting hard every time someone so much as utters “baby” for whatever reason.

You unravel the measuring tape, placing the end of it near the base of his member. You drag it over his length, whistling in awe as the number keeps growing and growing. “Shit, you really are huge,” you gasp in amazement, peering closely at the measurement to make sure you aren’t reading it wrong. “Nearly nine inches. Are you insane?”

Jungkook chuckles in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… nothing?”

You snort, shaking your head at the pure audacity of this boy in front of you. “No need to humblebrag, baby. Unless you want me to degrade you, then stop being coy with me.”

At the word “degrade,” Jungkook’s erection twitches with interest. Of course, you notice. “Oh? You want me to degrade you?”

Jungkook’s face heats up, forever astonished by your brazenness. “N-no! That’s not what I–”

“You want me to call your cock pathetic, huh? Is that what you want?”

Jungkook whines, shifting from foot to foot as he tries to avoid your lustful gaze. “I…”

“Want me to call you names, huh? Took your cock so long to get hard, struggled so much to get it up. What a useless dick that you have…” you trail off, covering your mouth behind your hand to hide your grin.

Jungkook feels like he’s about to fall over. The pressure in between his legs is reaching his breaking point, and Jungkook really doesn’t want to embarrass himself by coming untouched. He has a sinking suspicion you’d enjoy it if he did, however.

Your hand slides back to his crotch, cupping his erection once more. You run your palm along him once, enjoying the way his breath hitches. He’s undeniably close and it fills you with pride knowing that you did this to him. “You’re close.” You say it like a fact.

Jungkook squirms. “Please… Faster… I’m so close, Y/N. Just a lil bit more, please…”

“I love it when you beg,” you laugh, sounding a little mean. “But since you’ve been nice all this time, I’ll let you.”

Your hands speed up, twisting and pulling him in ways that Jungkook isn’t sure are possible. He’s full-on panting like a fucking dog right now, humping shallowly into your hand like he’s lost his mind. He’s so unbelievably close, the heat in his stomach climbing higher and higher until––

“SHIT! Y/N!”

You stop, confused. That shout didn’t sound like Jungkook. You turn to your closed door, ears straining for the sound again. “Yoongi?” you call out. “Did you say something?”

Muffled footsteps come rushing closer. Your doorknob jiggles, but Jungkook had thankfully locked it when he’d come into the room earlier. Yoongi huffs from behind the door, banging loudly on the frame. “Y/N! Help! I fucking dropped the cheesecake!”

“He dropped the cheesecake,” you repeat dully to yourself. You share a look with Jungkook. The banging doesn’t stop.

“Y/N PLEASEEE THE KITCHEN IS A MESS!” Yoongi screams, uncaring of whatever he was interrupting. “YOU OWE ME! I PAID FOR YOUR RENT LAST MONTH SO YOU GOTTA HELP!”

“I hate that bastard,” you sigh, defeated. You let go of Jungkook reluctantly, giving him an apologetic look. Jungkook wants to cry. “I’m… really sorry for leaving you again like this. I…” you hesitate, looking at the door then back to him. “I do kind of owe him, so…”

Jungkook exhales shakily, bending down to the floor to pick his shirt up. He dresses quietly, cheeks burning. Why must you keep torturing him like this? He thinks his balls might explode at this point. “It’s no problem… I’ll just take care of myself at home.”

You peer at him, feeling incredibly guilty. “I have a connecting bathroom. You could use it if you want?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Jungkook says before hurriedly rushing out of there. He refuses to look at you as he slams the bathroom door shut, breathing slowly through his nostrils in an attempt to calm himself. He waits as he listens for you to leave before his hands scramble back onto his dick, loudly crying out as he tugs himself to completion.

His legs give out from under him as he slides down to the floor, spurts of hot cum flying past his fist. Wave after wave of pleasure tingles down his spine as he slides up and down his cock. After his dick shoots its last droplet of cum, Jungkook slams his head against your bathroom wall. He’s exhausted.

He closes his eyes, thinks about how his life has led him up to this moment. Jizzing in some near stranger’s home while one of his best friends cleans up his fallen cheesecake.

“Jesus fucking Christ I hate it here,” he says. He gets up unsteadily, washing his hands of his mess.

x x x x x

Fully dressed and unsatisfyingly sated, Jungkook exits your bathroom with a flush down his neck. He keeps his eyes averted from you, but not before glaring heatedly at Yoongi as he turns to leave. Yoongi cocks his head to the side, annoyingly unaware of what he had done.

“You okay, dude? You look like a bull ready to pummel me,” Yoongi snickers, bemused by Jungkook’s flared nostrils. “Seriously. You okay?”

You slap Yoongi on the thigh, huffing angrily as you stay squatted on the floor, your other hand busy wiping off the cheesecake from the floor with a paper towel. “Shut up. You’ve done enough shitheadery today.”

Yoongi looks at the mounted clock on your fridge. “It’s only 7PM. My shitheadery doesn’t clock out until 10PM today.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook waves his goodbye. “Well. I guess I’ll see you guys,” he murmurs, inching closer to the door. He walks out in silence, no longer bothering to hide his pouting. He takes the elevator down, ruminating on his existence. When he reaches the ground floor, his phone immediately dings with a notification.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey. please don’t hate me. i’m really sorry. raincheck?

Jungkook snorts, stopping in his tracks. It’s always just rainchecks with you. He types up a quick response.

from: jjk it’s not your fault. it’s fine.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ you sure? you got off well by yourself at least, right?

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ if you’re down… i could help you through the phone? when you get home? :( i just feel really bad. like, genuinely. yoongi is an asshole.

The offer sounds interesting, but sadly, Jungkook is out of juice for the day. He’s got a lot of stamina for many things, but it turns out he’s out of practice when it comes to his own dick.

from: jjk nah it’s fine. thanks though.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ i hope you’re still down for the contest? doyoung texted me while we were busy a while ago and said that they were free tomorrow after 12?

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ <3 ty you’re the best!! <3

He groans, slapping himself in the face. God, he is so fucking whipped.

x x x x x

The next day, Jungkook wakes up with a burning headache. He feels hungover even though he didn’t drink at all the night before, and Jungkook wonders if his brain had somehow deflated overnight with how hollow he feels. He grabs his phone from his bed stand, sees a new text from you reminding him of what he’d promised.

You had sent him an address to another apartment complex just a few bus stops away from where he lives and he assumes this must be either Doyoung’s or Taeyong’s place. He shuts his eyes for another few moments, trying his best to remember how to live.

It’s already nearing noon, so he needs to get going if he doesn’t want to be late. He shudders to think what you might do if he ghosts you. Despite how guilty you were yesterday for leaving him mid-nut, he doesn’t think that debt will cover him if he chooses not to show up to the dick-measuring contest.

On the bus, he fidgets in his seat, picking at the rips in his jeans and doing anything to keep his mind busy. He keeps thinking that someone knows what he’s up to, paranoia eating him from the inside out as he darts his eyes left and right, hoping no one can actually read minds. The bus is relatively empty, with only him and an elderly couple sitting near the front. They seem none the wiser, though Jungkook fears what they would think if they knew what he was up to.

He almost wishes he was wearing Seokjin’s thot shorts, as the skimpy excuse of clothing had somehow given him some sort of confidence the day before. Gone is that false sense of (misplaced) bravado; instead, Jungkook is filled with anxiety at the prospect of showing a couple of strangers his dick.

(A fairly human response, but that doesn’t help Jungkook’s current case.)

He arrives at the apartment complex in record time, and he sees you standing by the entrance. You look well-rested, your hands fiddling with your phone. Jungkook has only ever seen you when you were wearing that revealing dress from the club and your pajamas from your home, so he’s kind of shocked to see you look cute in your simple white dress and jean jacket. Not that you didn’t look good those other times, but seeing you look like a normal university student is astonishing, for lack of better word.

You almost look like a regular girl just waiting for her date to pick her up.

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily when you see him approach, waving at him. He waves back, the apples of his cheeks dusted pink from his previous thoughts. She’s not your date, you weirdo. Wait, she’s the weirdo. Get it together man! This shit is fucked up.

“This is their place, I assume?” Jungkook asks, looking at the building. It appears almost identical to your own apartment complex, minus the mini water fountain at the front. Ah, the wonders of living in a concrete jungle.

“Yep,” you nod. You start walking towards the entrance, with Jungkook following closely. “You ready? God, I can’t wait to see Doyoung’s stupid face. He’s gonna be so pissed!”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jungkook mutters, vibrating with nerves.

You both make your way to the apartment, with you humming quietly while he sweats profusely beside you. At least one of you is having fun, he thinks grimly to himself. You reach apartment 322, knocking three times before a boy with neat black hair opens the door.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” the boy says, reaching for a hug. You hug him back enthusiastically, ignoring Jungkook’s bemused stares. If this boy is either Doyoung or Taeyong, aren’t you supposed to… hate both of their guts? Or at least, not be friends? What even is going on?

When you step back, you point at Jungkook offhandedly. “Oh yeah, this is Jungkook. The guy I’m dating.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his own spit, but luckily the boy doesn’t notice. Right… You guys are supposed to be dating. It’s not real, though. Get a grip! “Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he wheezes, shaking the other guy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“I’m Doyoung,” he introduces himself, a small smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard… a lot about you, so to speak.”

Jungkook squeaks, earning a chuckle from Doyoung. “No need to be embarrassed. I think we’re way past that point now. Sorry for roping you into this, by the way. But when Y/N wants to fight, well… Let’s just say I’m not going to be the first one who backs down.”

“Says the dude who couldn’t even beat me at arm wrestling,” you snort, pushing past Doyoung and walking into his home. Doyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for Jungkook to come in.

“Props to you for dating her, by the way. I’ve been friends with that demon since elementary school, so I know what she’s like. You must be a guy with strong willpower,” Doyoung says.

“I’m… Sorry for saying this, but I’m kind of confused? I didn’t know you guys were friends,” Jungkook says, examining Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a lot bigger than yours, though he does recall you saying that Doyoung was filthy rich. It’s a lot more modern looking for sure, as Jungkook can see that Doyoung has two industrial-sized refrigerators in his kitchen. What kind of university student needs two industrial-sized refrigerators?

“Yeah, we are. She actually only dated Taeyong because she knew we both liked each other but I was too stubborn to make a move, so she did the only thing she knew how to do: be an asshole,” he explains simply. Jungkook nods, needing no further clarification.

“Jungkook! Come with me,” you pop out from one of the doorways deeper in the apartment, beckoning him closer. You point at Doyoung, “And you. Get Taeyong ready. I’m gonna need a few minutes to get Jungkook in tip-top shape!”

Doyoung chuckles, shoving Jungkook towards you. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll introduce you to Taeyong later, I guess. He’s in my bedroom, so we’ll come out in about 20 minutes? That should be enough time, right?”

Yeah. Right. Jungkook walks numbly towards you, arms rigged by his sides as you pull him into Doyoung’s spare bathroom. You lock the door close, whirling around to face him with your hands on your hips. You’ve rolled your sleeves up, appearing like a demented surgeon preparing to dissect him. “Well! Strip!”

Jungkook is clumsy when he unbuttons his jeans, his entire body feeling like it’s being weighed down by pounds of lead. He shucks them off, leaving him in his boxers (thankfully, with no holes in them. He made sure to double-check before he left this morning.) You appraise him silently, thinking of what to do next.

Before Jungkook can say anything, your hands are already on his chest, pointer fingers placed near his nipples. His piercings are visible through his thin shirt, much to your appreciation. You circle them lazily, much like how you did yesterday.

Jungkook can’t relax long enough to enjoy it, however. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched behind his back. He’s trying to stop thinking about what’s going to happen, trying to enjoy your touch. He grits his teeth, swallowing thickly.

“I… I can’t do this, Y/N.” he mumbles. “I don’t think I can get hard. I’m too nervous.”

You pause in your movements. “You’re nervous?” you purr, voice lowering. Jungkook stops fidgeting to stare at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “How can I alleviate that, hmm?”

“What?”

You pinch his nipples, hard. He gasps, whimpering right after from the jolt of pain. “I think I know how to calm you down,” you murmur, staring him down like he’s nothing more than a delicious snack.

“You want me to hurt you, huh? Is that it? Answer me, slut.” You say those words, but there’s a small bit of hesitation in your expression, like you’re worried if he truly likes it. When he nods enthusiastically, urging you to go on, you smile softly at him. His heart hammers in his chest, a small case of butterflies beginning to erupt there. You look kinda cute, even if you have his nipples in a twist.

“If it’s too much, just say ‘dumbo’ and I’ll stop, okay?” Jungkook nods once more, eager to get going.

You smirk, letting go of his nipples and gripping his hips instead. Your thumbs stay innocently above his boxers. “Do you like it when I call you names too, huh? You like being pinched and prodded?”

Jungkook whines, already turning needy. The anxiety from a while ago slowly drains away, leaving only lust to cloud his mind. “N-no, I just…”

“No?” You laugh, your thumbs catching on the garter of his boxers and pulling them down until the tip of his cock peeks out, already in the midst of getting hard. “Then what’s this?”

“Nggh…” Jungkook can’t say anything, can only stare helplessly at you.

“Pathetic. You have a nine-inch cock but it’s good for nothing except earning me a bit of money. Shame, isn’t it? Would be nice if you knew how to use it, then maybe I’d let you fuck me,” you say, edging closer to him until your lips find his exposed collarbones. You suck harshly, giddy when color immediately blooms at the spot. You thread your fingers into his dark, fluffy hair – and tug.

It’s too much all at once – Jungkook isn’t ready for any of it at all. He’s panting, whining, drooling a little. He shimmies his hips a little, his boxers sliding down his thighs and onto the marble floor. His cock springs free, already dripping pre-cum but still only half-hard.

“Ah, there it is. Your big useless cock. My, my… Already dirtying Doyoungie’s floor with your slick, huh? You gonna make the floor wet, baby?”

Jungkook garbles something; did he say something? Who knows. All he knows right now is that 1) you’re making him lose his marbles and 2) he’s embarrassingly close. He’s never gotten this hard so fast in his entire life, and he might be suffering from blood loss or something. His head feels light, like he’s floating. His entire body is thrumming, senses filled with nothing but you.

You gently lead him closer to the bathtub where you sit, still paying no attention to his weeping arousal. Your mouth is dangerously close to it though, but you make no move to hold him in your mouth. Instead, you hike your skirt up until it reaches your waist, revealing your white panties. Jungkook zeroes in on the darkening patch, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. He’s screwed.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself yesterday, when you were in my bathroom,” you say, caressing the front of your panties. You grind against your palm, eyelashes fluttering as your jaw drops into an ‘o’. You exhale through your nose, laughing breathily. “If you do well, then maybe I’ll show you what I did when you left, hmm?”

Jungkook has never moved faster in his life than he did then. He takes his erection into his hands, sighing with relief when he begins to pump. He moves slower than he usually would, unwilling to finish so soon after getting this far. He’s already wound up from your teasing (and if you count the past few days, then let’s say he’s been edged long enough.)

You study him with sharp eyes, focusing on the movement of his hands. “That’s it. It must be easy jerking off with how wet you are, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook speeds up, flicking his wrist and focusing on the sensitive tip of his cock. His attention is pulled when he sees you shift from the corner of his eye. His grip stutters when you push your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening core. He licks his lips, aching to put his mouth there but only if you’d allow him.

“Why’d you stop?” You stretch your leg out, using your foot to urge his wrist to keep moving. “Come on. I want to see you.”

You circle your clit leisurely before dipping your fingers into your pussy two fingers at a time, wet enough for the slide to be smooth. Jungkook quickens his pace, wanting to match your speed. He watches, mesmerized, at the sight of your fingers pushing in and out.

The obscene sounds coming from the both of you is loud enough to mask Jungkook’s desperate mewls. He’s going faster now, wanting nothing more than to cum all over you and your pussy. You’d look good in his cum, the pearly droplets would look good in contrast with your perfect skin.

Your thighs are shaking, your own breathing shallow as you quickly approach your end. You’re moaning in tandem with him, your arousal coating your fingers generously as it begins to run down the back of your hand. You’re scissoring yourself, but it’s barely enough when you compare it to Jungkook’s cock. No, nothing would be enough to prepare you to take him. He’d ruin you, and the thought of him breaking you is enough to help you tip over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan, eyes screwing shut as you are wrought with the strongest orgasm of your life. More wetness drips out of you as you rub frantically at your clit, riding your high. You look at Jungkook through your eyelashes, lips parted. “Fuck,” you repeat.

Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He knows he shouldn’t cum but the pleasure is skyrocketing at an unparalleled speed. His balls tighten, the heat in his abdomen building until he can’t hold back even if he tried. He shudders once, twice, before jets of his cum spills from over his fist, some of the droplets making their way onto your thighs. He moans at the sight, doesn’t try to change his trajectory as his mind is completely hazed with lust. “Shit, I’m–” Jungkook grinds one last time into his hand, before promptly slumping down onto the floor.

“Jesus, that was a lot of cum,” he hears you say, but he can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s ashamed, having cummed without your permission. He can feel his dick softening underneath him, and he dimly remembers that hadn’t been the plan at all. He was supposed to get hard, have his dick measured, and then finish if he was allowed. And now, he ruined everything because he couldn’t hold himself back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly, hiding behind his cum-stained hands. He cringes when the mess enters his eyes, wiping his palm somewhere on his leg. “Fuck. I messed everything up. You were just… It was too much… You…”

“Should’ve used your safety word, Jungkook.”

“It wasn’t because it was bad,” Jungkook’s cheeks flush, “It was… too good.”

You kneel beside him, cradling his chin and forcing him to look at you. He had been afraid to see disappointment in your eyes, so he’s absolutely surprised to see you look… amused. You’re even giggling a little.

“Sorry. I went a bit overboard. Even I get horny sometimes,” you shrug, wiping a bit of cum away from his forehead. Your own fingers are slick with your own cum, so really, you were just making a bigger mess of his face. Jungkook can’t say he’s opposed to a little mess. “You just looked so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“You… enjoyed yourself, too? I’m not insane for thinking there’s something between us?”

“Honestly, you’re at least a little bit insane,” you laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m cuckoo, and you know it. The fact that you got turned on by me even after all I’d done to you… Really puts you into perspective, huh?”

Jungkook grumbles, but he’s no longer frowning. “I guess. My friends tell me I have a type, and I guess you fit the bill.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that, and it brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. He likes it when you laugh, he decides. “Same here. I guess you’re my type, too.”

You peer down at his flaccid dick. “Too bad about your meat flute, though. Unless you can get it back up in the next 2 minutes, then I don’t think you’re getting that three grand.”

“Please don’t call my dick that,” Jungkook says before shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s no worries. I had the biggest nut of my life and that’s good enough to me. Plus, you said you’d give me one thousand dollars if I agreed to help you out, so you better not back out on that.”

You snigger, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. But not before we get out of here and you fuck my brains out, got it? You need to work for it, baby.”

Is it bad that his cock was already beginning to stir once more? Unprecedented, as it usually took Jungkook ages to get back up. Maybe you really were the one for him.

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

When the two of you finish getting cleaned up and leave the bathroom with no evidence that you had even been there, Doyoung doesn’t even bat an eye as you walk past him, eager to get out of the door. Taeyong is lounging on the couch with his dick… mysteriously still in his pants, as if he had no intention of taking them off in the first place.

“Sorry, we need to leave. There’s an emergency we have to attend to. See you, Doyoungie!” You tug Jungkook along, who waves his own hasty goodbye.

The door clicks shut, leaving the couple alone once more. Taeyong grins up at Doyoung, “You really are amazing, Doyoung. How’d you know she’d end up with him?”

Doyoung flicks open his phone, showing Taeyong his text messages with none other than Kim Seokjin himself. “All according to keikaku, my love. Kim Seokjin always wins.”

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (9/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2k words

You weren't a morning person, hell, you weren’t even a person in the morning. Therefore, when you woke up to two kids playing with your hair and jumping on your bed, you wanted to strangle them or shove them on the floor. But again, you loved those little demons so you just groaned loudly, clearly irritated and you decided to keep your eyes closed, hoping that your ignorance will make them leave you alone. You squeezed your eyes shut and didn't open them until you heard a familiar voice chuckling.

“Carol told me you aren't a morning person, but this-” James didn't finish his sentence, his lips breaking into a cheeky grin, and as much annoyed as you were at his teasing, you kind of thought he looked gorgeous. Who looked so gorgeous this early in the morning? A smile made its way to your face and you instantly wiped it off, feigning offense.

“Carol? You're already on a first-name basis with my sister?”

“Aw, don't worry, doll. I'm just trying to be friendly with your family or should I say my future family as your mother reminded me ten minutes ago,” he pestered, moving towards you to hand you the cup of coffee in his hand. Bucky winked teasingly when you accepted it, and you mumbled a ‘thank you’.

That pet name made your stomach do some somersaults and you didn't trust yourself enough to speak. It's not like the first time he called you ‘doll’, in fact, he had been calling you that the moment you started fake dating. But it was something about the way he said it as if the word was made for you and nobody could say that word unless it wasn't voiced by him for you. He didn't notice the flush in your eyes and even if he did, he didn't mention it.

“That’s it. You’re done hanging out with my family,” you articulated, “You are officially infected.” 

“Don’t be like that, doll. Come on, breakfast’s ready.”

At the age of 18, when you were finally a college girl, you decided that breakfast was a myth created by Satan. When you lived with your parents, the breakfast consisted of extravagant food like pancakes, waffles and fruits. Once you moved away for college, your breakfast shifted to coffee and maybe a toast if you had the time before your first lecture. And the second you were independent, coffee became your boyfriend, keeping you up at night and also, your best friend, keeping you up in the morning without dozing off in classes.

So, sitting again at a dining table with your family and fake boyfriend/boss was very awkward, to say the least. But of course, your sister had the magical ability where she took an awkward silence and converted it into an uncomfortable conversation.

“We hope we didn't wake you up last night. Nick and I tend to get loud sometimes,” Carol joked and you coughed, choking on your food, and James laughed awkwardly. 

James' hand instinctively came to your back, running calming circles with his palm and you shot a deathly glare to your sister. 

“Oh, we know all about that,” James teased, bringing your chair closer to him. Your eyes widened and you whipped your head towards him so quickly that your neck hurt. What was he saying? This man, your boyfriend, fake boyfriend was a completely different person than your boss (not that you were complaining). He was funny, charming, he made you feel comfortable and something else you weren’t ready to point out just yet.

You could see yourself falling for a man like James. No, he is your boss and sort of criminal. Get your shit together, you told yourself.

After the very awkward breakfast, thanks to Carol. Your mother told you to show James around town and you would have said no but that meant you’d have to stay at home with your family, which was worse. So when James accepted your offer to go to your favorite burger place nearby, you were relieved.

“This burger is amazing, but nothing compared to Barry’s,” James stated. 

You nodded your head, chewing the remnant of food in your mouth properly before speaking, “Nothing compares to Sally and her food.”

You liked being with James, everything about him made you want this, the real thing with him, not the whole faux boyfriend play. You wanted him and you were sure that he didn’t. One look at him was sufficient for anyone to know how handsome he was, and how oblivious he was to the waitress ogling him. He didn’t spare her a glance, he was probably used to the attention that he stopped caring about it. Of course, if you weren't overthinking at the moment, you would have noticed that he didn't care about anyone else - well, except you. 

“The waitress was totally checking you out,” you informed James. You were very jealous, but you wouldn't stop your crush on your boss to stop him from living his life. He had already sacrificed a lot for you, you didn't want to cock-block him on top of that.

“No, she wasn’t,” he huffed, looking at you for any sign that this conversation displeased you the way it did him.

“I swear she was,” you said, “You should ask her out. She’s cute.”

 “No, I’m taken.”

“But you’re not taken, James. This isn’t real,” you retorted and it hurt you so much to say. Sometimes you wished you could be a selfish bitch but you couldn’t do that to James. He deserves someone who would cherish and love him, not give him a faux relationship. “You should ask her out.”

 “Do you want me to?” James asked, his voice was laced with desperation that you couldn't understand. Why would he care about your opinion?

Bucky hoped that you would say no, he needed a sign to know that you wanted him too. His tone was despondent because he was hoping that this could be more. He really wanted it to be. But when you said yes, everything came shattering down for him. You didn’t want him and God, he was so frustrated that he could cry. What sick game was the universe playing with him? He felt like a rat stuck in a cage with cheese right outside, in front of him. Even though he was so close to you, you were still out of his reach.

“You know what?,” he pondered, “Now that I think about it maybe I should ask her out?”

“Like right now?” you questioned, taken aback by his sudden and unexpected change in demeanor.

“Yeah!” he cheered enthusiastically, “No time like the present, right? You can get home by yourself?”

He didn’t wait for your answer, already walking back towards the restaurant, and you murmured a ‘yeah’ which he didn’t even notice because he was already jogging towards the burger place.

When you reached home alone, tears welled up in your eyes, and you ran up to the bathroom to avoid stumbling upon your family. Maybe you shouldn't have pushed him, maybe if you didn’t then he wouldn’t have pursued the waitress. He wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t shove him towards the cute waitress. Why were you such a good person?

Your thoughts were brought to a halt with frantic knocks on the door. Instantly, you wiped your eyes and opened up the door to be met with your sister’s kids. Izzy and Alex didn’t give you any time before getting a hold of your hand and rushing you outside to help them set up the trampoline.

Your family was already out there, and you hoped your face didn’t say, ’I've been crying in the bathroom.’ Your sister and her husband were seated on a blanket which was spread out on the grass, sipping wine, and your parents were admiring their grandchildren.

“Auntie Y/N!” Alex exclaimed and Izzy added, “Help us fix the trampoline please.”

You agreed because those two were the only people in the world that considered you their friend without asking for anything in return. Moreover, it was a good distraction, if you stayed in a room thinking about James, then you would probably lose your sanity. So, once you started setting up the trampoline for the kids, it became somewhat fun, and you almost forgot all about James, and how he must be talking to that girl and how that girl must be flirting with him. You hoped he didn’t call her doll, you knew you were being unreasonable and immature, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Izzy and Alex made their way towards their parents and whispered something about you being so in love with James that his absence made you angry.

You ignored them and the way your sister smiled, you were so focused on fitting the trampoline spring that you did not realize someone was standing behind you until two strong hands came around you, taking the spring from your hand and attaching it to the corner. 

You knew it was James, no one would touch your hand so gently, any other man would have snatched the spring from your hold and mansplained it’s process to you. But James wasn’t doing that, he wanted to be near you, to have your attention fully that is why he took the spring from you. He didn’t undermine you. No, he desired you to notice him, the guy who has been trying all weekend to get you to like him. He wanted you to see Bucky, not your boss, James.

You could feel his head looming over your shoulder, you dared to crane your neck in his direction to find him already looking at you with a smile on his face. You were so dazed in his eyes that you didn’t notice that he was wearing a white shirt instead of the one he wore in the morning. You did not notice that he didn’t leave you to get the waitress’s number, instead he got a customized shirt that read 'I heart Y/N'. You only noticed him.

Furthermore, you didn’t care about anything else at the moment, just him. Bucky eyed your lips longer than he should have and leaned a bit towards you; a question. You answered his question by closing the distance between you and crashing your lips with his. His hands engulfed around your waist, flushing your back against his chest and he kissed you feverishly. 

The kids were right.

You were in love, and that love was reciprocated by the man who was holding you like you were his archer and kissing you like you were the source of his last breath. But both of you were too unaware to realize that the other felt the same way.

Everyone could see that, your mother looked over at your father and your sister looked at her husband, smiling, reminiscing the way they fell in love just like you and Bucky. The kids looked at you both with hope, aspiring to have a love like that in their future, the kind they saw in movies and in the couples around them.

What you didn't realize was that there was one other set of eyes watching you from a car in the distance. Rumlow finally found his rival's vulnerability, and he was going to do everything in his power to exploit and eventually kill Bucky’s weakness, his love, you. 

TAGS:  @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​ @mybuck​ @priii​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ladydmalfoy​ @shaking-a-jar-of-bees 

[thetravelerwrites]

Errol (Naga) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga Additional Tags: Cheating, Infidelity, Break-ups, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Secretly In Love, Angst, Sex, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Dom/Sub, Ovipositor, Oviposition, Pregnancy, Babies, Eggs, Egg Laying Words: 7887

A commission for @anjhope1​​! After catching her fiance cheating, the reader breaks up with him and goes home miserable. The ex-fiance's brother, Errol, arrives on his brother's order to get his things from her apartment, but Errol is more interested in taking care of the reader and making sure she's okay. It leads to some confusing feelings and a confession. Please reblog leave feedback!

The Traveler’s Masterlist

You’d had your suspicions for a while, but it wasn’t until you got the message on social media from a girl he’d dated and dumped who had photographic proof of it that you finally had to face the truth.

Your fiance was cheating on you.

Eric was a naga and had been with you for more than five years. He had asked you to marry him, ring and all, on New Years Eve with his family. He had made a big show of it, too. And now, you were going to have to confront him about being a cheating bastard.

The woman who had been dumped told you that he was now dating her friend, and she had gotten the room number where they were supposed to meet. You got to the hotel with your heart in your throat and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” That was definitely Eric’s voice. He had told you that his friend needed help moving and that he’d be staying over to help him. What a good friend he was.

You deepened your voice in an effort to mask it. “Room service.”

“Oh, good, I was wondering if you were ever going to come,” Eric said, and the door swung open. As soon as he saw you, the blood drained out of his already pale face.

“No, wait--”

“Hey, babe, did they bring the right wine this time?” A female voice said from inside.

You took off your ring and threw it in his face and called inside the room, “You can have the bastard.” And walked away.

“Wait, please, this isn’t what you think,” Eric said, slithering quickly down the hall to catch you. He grabbed your arm and you wrenched it violently out of his grasp.

“Babe, who’s this?” The woman said. She was human and pretty, you guessed.

“I’m his fiance,” You retorted. “Oh, sorry, ex-fiance. Don’t worry, he’s all yours.”

“What the fuck, Eric?!” She shouted at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“Rachel, it’s not…” He stuttered. “It isn’t…”

Rachel slapped him and pushed past you toward the elevator, not looking back.

“Babe--” He started, turning back toward you.

“Don’t you dare call me ‘babe,’ you son of a bitch. Why? Why would you do this to me? Why would you waste five fucking years of my life?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you--”

“I don’t give a shit what you meant to do! I want an explanation. Was the sex bad? Do you not love me anymore? Are you just the type of person who has to have a side-chick? What? What about this is good for you? What about all this made destroying our relationship worth it?”

He groaned and scratched his head with both hands. “I… It… I can be anything I want to be with those girls, you know? If I say I’m rich, then I’m rich. If I say I’m successful, then I’m successful, and they don’t know better. They don’t know I have a shitty job that I hate. They don’t know that my girlfriend makes twice as much money as me, that she’s popular with people and everyone likes her better than me, even my own fucking family. They don’t know what a fucking loser I am.”

“And that’s my fucking fault?!” You screamed at him. “You know what you could have done instead of ruining a five year relationship? Gotten fucking therapy! Or, better yet, talked to me about it! I have been nothing but supportive of you. I have encouraged you to leave your job and find a better one. I told you I would support you until you found something that made you happy. You could have gone back to school or done and apprenticeship or vocational work, whatever, and I’d have been there! You could do whatever you wanted, and I would have helped you, and you know that!”

“Right, because you so fucking perfect, huh?” He yelled back. “It’s not enough that you rub your perfect job in my face every day and go around spending whatever you want because you don’t have to worry about money, but you also have to be perfectly supportive and perfectly giving and perfectly loving, too, right? How am I supposed to feel good about myself when you’re always better than me at everything?”

“So, it’s my fault you’re cheating on me because I’m a good girlfriend? Is that what you’re saying to me? I’m too fucking nice, so you had to put your dick in random women to feel better about yourself?” You raised your hands as if surrendering and shook your head in disbelief. “You know what? Fucking forget me. Forget our relationship, forget getting married, forget you ever knew me, forget my fucking face, don’t ever come to my house, don’t ever message me again, delete my number from your phone. As far as you’re concerned, I don’t exist to you, because you sure as shit don’t exist to me anymore.” You turned to leave.

“What about my stuff?” He protested.

“Send your brother to come get your shit,” You said without turning. “If you set foot on my property, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing. I’m not fucking around. I’m so fucking glad you never moved in when I offered. ”

“So that’s it?” He said as you waited for the elevator to come back up. “You’re not even willing to work this out? It’s just over?”

“Get fucked, Eric,” You said, stepping into the elevator. “Oh wait, you already did. Do yourself a favor and sell that ring to pay for a therapist.” And the door closed on him.

As soon as the elevator started to move, you hit the floor and sobbed. Why? Why was he like this? You thought everything was perfect up until a few months ago, and you hadn’t know he felt like this. He always seemed happy. How were you supposed to know otherwise if he never said anything?

How you got back home, you didn’t know, because you didn’t remember it. You grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the freezer and didn’t even bother with a glass. For about an hour, you just sat there disheveled on your couch, crying and drinking.

Sometime later, there was a sheepish knock on your door. You hoped to God that it wasn’t Eric, but when you opened the door, Errol was there. Errol, Eric, and their sister Enya, were all from the same clutch of eggs, so he looked a lot like his brother in that they all had white, black, gold scales, golden eyes, cream colored skin, and blond hair. Errol was a bit larger that Eric, and where Eric wore his hair short, Errol kept his long and braided back. You always thought that it made him look elegant, despite his size. He was still wearing his work clothes, as if he’d just come from his construction job.

You and Errol hadn’t spent much time together alone, since Eric was a little jealous of other men. He’d always been very nice to you, though, and liked you just as well as the rest of his family. He’d even given you advice a few times in the past when you and Eric were fighting.

“Can I come in?” He asked, wincing.

“Did you know?” You asked him, your throat raw and hoarse from crying.

“No, I didn’t know,” He said solemnly.

“Don’t bullshit me, Errol,” You replied harshly.

“I swear I didn’t know. I would have told you, I promise. My brother can be an asshole, but I never thought he would do something like this.” Errol grimaced. “Are you okay?”

“Do I fucking look okay?” You retorted, your voice shaking as the tears returned. “If you’ve come to get his stuff, just get it and leave.”

“I couldn’t give less of a shit about his stuff, I’m here for you,” Errol said. He held up a couple of plastic bags. “I brought take out and ice cream.”

“I’m not hungry,” You said vaguely, but you moved aside to let him in.

“I got alcohol, too,” He said as he slithered inside. “I could make you a Bailey’s float.”

You sighed and sniffled. “Okay.”

You sat at your table as he bustled around making the drink, laying your tear-flushed face on the cool surface of the wood.

“What did I do wrong?” You asked weepily with your cheek pressed against the table.

“Nothing,” Errol said as he lay the glass in front of you, moving a chair so that he could coil up next to the table. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why did he do it?” You asked, sitting up and taking a watery bite of the ice cream. “Why wasn’t I enough? He said ‘girls,’ which means there’s probably more than the two I know about. How long has he been doing this? Our whole relationship?”

“When he called me to come over here and get his stuff for him, I asked. I’m not sure if he was telling me the truth, but he said it’s only been the last year.” Errol snorted derisively. “Only.”

“How many girls?” You asked.

He shook his head. “He wouldn’t tell me. He kept trying to get me to side with him, but…” Errol rolled his eyes. “I’m not buying anything he says right now.”

“Did he do this to his other girlfriends?”

“Well, you were his first serious girlfriend,” Errol said. “Before you, he only dated casually, so it was never a problem. When he said he really loved you, I thought he meant it.”

“Yeah.” Your lip quivered and you stabbed the spoon into your float. “Me too.”

Errol reached out and pulled you into a tight hug, which you sank into and let loose again, soaking his shirt in tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Errol whispered into your hair.

At some point, Errol put you to bed. You were exhausted and drunk and just wanted to sleep, so he lay you down and left you to it.

When the morning came, you felt like your head had been run over with a truck. You decided to get some coffee going before taking a shower, but to your surprise, Errol was still there. He was in the kitchen on the phone, his hair out of it’s usual braid and tumbling down his shoulders.

“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Errol said. You immediately realized he was talking to his brother. “No, I’m not picking up your shit. I don’t care if she burns it all.” He was silent for a moment, and you could hear Eric speaking. “No… No, you’re full of shit. Do you know what a good thing you had? Do you have any idea what I would give to have what you just shit on? …fuck no, I’m not going to talk her into taking you back, are you insane?! Get over yourself… No… No, it’s not happening, you can go fuck yourself right now… Look, I don’t have time for your bullshit right now.”

Errol hung up and turned, startled to realize you were standing there. “Oh, hey,” He said. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” You replied honestly. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Yeah, you were in bad shape last night and I didn’t want to leave you alone. I slept on the couch, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine,” You said. “I was just going to make coffee.”

“Oh, I already made some,” He said, going to the coffee pot and pouring you a mugful. “I figured you could use it. I’ve got breakfast coming too, something greasy to absorb all that alcohol.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” You said, sipping the coffee. It was really good, but not your normal brand, though it tasted very familiar. Actually, now that you thought about it, you always drank the gross coffee Eric liked. This was a nice change. “I’m going to take a shower and wash last night off of me. Are you okay here?”

“Yeah, yeah, take your time,” He said, turning to pull down plates and prepare for breakfast.

You were about to turn to the bathroom but stopped. “Errol.”

He looked back up at you. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for… thanks.”

He smiled at you. “It’s no problem at all.”

You took your shower with your head pressed against the tile. Why couldn’t you just forget? Why couldn’t you put all of it out of your mind and stop thinking about it? What would it take to make the pain stop?

The water was cold by the time you got out, and when you went back into the kitchen, the food had arrived and Errol had everything set out on the table. He looked up anxiously when you came in.

“You okay?” He said, concerned. “You were in there for a worryingly long time. I was thinking about going in there if you hadn’t come out in five minutes.”

“I’m fine. Well, not fine, but you know.”

“Yeah,” He said sympathetically. “Try to eat. All you had last night were two bites of ice cream and a lot of alcohol.”

You picked up your fork and speared a sausage. “I must look horrible.”

“Nope, not possible,” He said, tucking into his own plate of food. “A person can look tired and cute at the same time, you know.”

You snorted, prodding your puffy face gently. “You’re too nice. Maybe I should have dated you instead.”

He laughed. “You know, it’s actually kinda funny, I was going to ask you out back in college before you started dating Eric.”

“Really?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, he kind of sniped you, if I’m being honest.”

“I never knew that,” You said. “Did he know you wanted to ask me out?”

“Oh, yeah, I told him,” He said, shoveling eggs into his mouth. “I told him there was a girl at my college who always went to this one coffee shop near campus, and I told him I was going buy you your favorite coffee and cookies as an icebreaker.”

Your head rocked back. “That’s exactly what he did when he asked me out.”

Errol tsked sardonically. “Yeah. I know.”

You scoffed. “Wow, what an absolute asshole.”

Errol shrugged and smiled. “Ancient history now. Do you want some more coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks,” You said as he filled your cup. “This is really good, what is it?”

“Orange and almond mocha.”

You cocked your head. “Wait… isn’t that the blend I drank at the coffee shop? It used to be my favorite.”

“I know,” He said. “I ordered some. I thought it might be a nice pick-me-up. The shit that Eric drinks is revolting.”

“That’s definitely true,” You said, looking at Errol closely. “You remembered what my favorite coffee blend was from five years ago?”

Errol looked up at you. His face seemed carefully blank.

“Yeah, but I mean, it’s no big deal.” He wiped his mouth and sat back. “I should get going, I have work in a few hours. Are you going to be okay here on your own?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think I’m going to take some personal days.”

Errol nodded.”That’s a good idea. I’ll call later to check on you, okay? If you need anything, just text me.”

“Okay,” You said, feeling a little off-balance.

Errol smiled and let himself out, and you were left standing there, staring after him as an overwhelming sense of realization hit you like a freight train.

…did I date the wrong brother all this time?

Later in the day, Eric called. You almost weren’t going to pick up, but you decided to see what he had to say for himself now that the heat of the moment had passed.

“What do you want?” You said brusquely.

“Why did my brother spend the night at your house last night?” Eric said immediately.

“...excuse me?” You replied, incredulous.

“You heard me. What the fuck was he doing there?”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

“What do you mean, it’s not my business? He’s my brother and you’re my fiance!”

“Ex-fiance,” You corrected him. “First of all, you are the one who told him to come over in the first place. Secondly, I was not obviously doing well last night and he stayed to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid or die in my sleep of alcohol poisoning. And third, and I cannot stress this enough, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Don’t bullshit me, you know he’s in love with you.”

Your head snapped back in agitation. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, you really don’t know? Ms. Perfect doesn’t know that my asshole brother has had a crush on you for years?”

“You’re full of shit, Eric,” You retorted. “Don’t drag Errol into this.”

“Did you just decide to fuck my brother to get back at me, is that it?”

“Fuck you, Eric!” You hung up the phone and hit the floor, a wave of anguish washing you again. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he have to make everything worse?

The phone rang again, and it was Eric. You decided to block him and be done with it. You got a notification from Facebook, and then Twitter, and then Instagram, all from Eric. Every new notification made your anxiety rise higher and higher until you were balled up on the floor, sobbing again. In desperation, she dialed Errol’s number.

“Hello?”

“Please help,” She begged, weeping. “He won’t leave me alone. He keeps messaging me and calling me. I can’t… I can’t do it…”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry,” Errol said. He sounded angry.

“Can you come over? Please?”

“Of course, I’ll be right there.”

“Okay. I’m going to turn off my phone.”

“That’s a good idea,” He said. “If I need to, I can message you on your gaming console.”

“Okay,” You said. “Bye.”

He hung up with you and you turned your phone off, sitting on the floor of your kitchen in the blissful silence, unable to get up.

Was that true? Could it be possible that Errol had been in love with you the whole time you’d been dating Eric? He said he’d wanted to ask you out. He remembered tiny details, like what your favorite coffee had been. He made you your favorite dessert when you were miserable without even having to ask what it was. He stayed overnight to make sure you didn’t get hurt or hurt yourself. He bought breakfast and defended you. He didn’t have to do any of that. He was just your fiance’s brother. Ex-fiance.

He arrived shortly after you called him. As soon as he entered the house, before he had a chance to say anything, you reached up, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. For a second or two, there was no reaction, but then he leaned into the kiss, deepening it, savoring it, before abruptly putting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you back, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“...why did you do that?” He asked you, his face grim.

“Eric told me,” You said. “He said you’ve been in love with me the entire time I was dating him. Is that true?”

Errol looked down and away. “Look--”

“You told Eric on the phone that you’d have given anything to have what he had. You meant me, right?”

“Please don’t do this.”

“Errol, look at me!” You shouted.

It seemed to take a lot of will, but Errol’s eyes flicked back up to meet yours. They were pleading with you.

“Do you love me?”

His face scrunched as if he were in pain and he swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t…

“Don’t…lie to me,” You said in a tense whisper, tears spilling from your eyes. “Do you?”

Tears began to gather in his own eyes. His response was barely audible.

“…yes.”

“For how long?”

“Since I first saw you in the coffee shop.”

You tried to press forward to kiss him again, but he held you firm, sniffing. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“But I don’t want to be used to get revenge on my brother,” He whispered back, his voice strangled and uneven. “It’s not good for you and it’s not fair to me. You know that.”

Your face crumpled. He was right.

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed, unable to look at him anymore. “I just don’t want to think about him anymore. I don’t want him in my head.”

Finally, Errol pulled you into a hug.

“I know,” He said. His body was tense, as if he were restraining himself. “We can revisit this later. Much later.”

“When?” You asked piteously.

“Not now. Not soon. You need time to heal and I… need to think.”

“I’m sorry, Errol,” You cried into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never saw it.”

He laughed slightly. “It’s not your fault. I got really good at hiding it. And Eric always kept you at arms length from me. I think he was afraid I’d steal you away or something.”

He let you go and you stepped away, looking at the ground in shame.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was using you,” You said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He put his hand under his chin and made you look up at him, his thumb stroking your cheek. “For what it’s worth, I’m relieved the secret is out now. Tiptoeing around you and Eric was exhausting. The engagement was my worst nightmare, because it meant I’d have to just suffer in silence forever.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s over for both our sakes, then,” You said, attempting to smile.

He smiled too, but it was very soft. Gentle. “I don’t… think it’s a good idea for us to hang out together much from now on, at least for a while,” He said, letting go. “But… we can text. We can call. If you need anything, I’m always here for you. That’s always been true.”

You nodded. “I know.” You sighed and took another step back. “I’m going to miss you.”

His smile widened sadly. “I’m not far, but… I know what you mean.”

With the both of you in tears, he turned, opened the door, and was gone. Thirty seconds after he left, however, you got a text.

>Are you okay?

You smiled through your tears, feeling glad and grateful that he was still communicating with you. >No. But I think I will be.

>Good.

>Are you okay? You asked in return.

>Honestly, I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. This was a lot at once.

>Yeah, no kidding. I think I may see a therapist to help me out.

>That’s a really good idea. Maybe I should too.

>I think everyone should at least once.

>Yeah. Do you need anything?

>No, I’m okay. Thank you for everything, Errol.

>It’s my pleasure.

Some time passed. You and Errol talked and texted every single day. Neither of you brought up dating each other and carefully avoided affectionate language. He wanted you to heal and you wanted to give him a fair chance without the cloud of his brother hanging over you.

Talking to him was effortless, like talking to yourself. You each had your own tastes and dislikes, but you both loved a lot of the same things and had similar desires. You both loved your jobs, enjoyed the same music, gushed over books you’d read, and liked playing board games. One of your favorite things to do was watch movies remotely over Zoom. It was almost like being on a date, even if you couldn’t be together.

As hard as you tried not to, you compared everything Errol did to Eric. Even still, it was obvious that Errol had always been better suited to you than Eric ever was. It was abundantly clear that you had indeed been dating the wrong brother the entire time.

On what was supposed to be your anniversary with Eric, Errol sent you a link to play a horror game with him. Errol hated anything horror, so instead of spending the day crying and drinking and cursing Eric for being alive, you got to laugh the whole day at how loud Errol screamed when he was startled. It ended up being a wonderful day.

You did see a therapist, as did Errol, and the two of you would talk about your sessions with each other, sharing the advice the counselors had given you. He also sent you gifts through delivery, like the coffee you loved and your favorite treats. Whenever you’d had a bad day or had to deal with Eric due to post-breakup business, a treat would arrive the next day, and it always put a smile on your face.

You were worried that all the time apart might change how Errol felt, but he never wavered. You woke up every day to a text saying good morning, and went to bed after talking to him for at least an hour about your day. After a month, you realized that a day or two would go by when you wouldn’t think of Eric at all. You hadn’t thought that would be possible when you first broke up with Eric, and he did still haunt your thoughts most of the time, but the respite from the emotional distress of thinking of him, even for a short time, was wonderful.

Three months after the breakup and his confession, you, Errol, and your therapists all decided that you were ready to date again. That same day, Errol showed up on your doorstep with flowers. The sight of him was like breathing fresh air after being underwater.

“Hi,” He said, smiling brightly.

“Hi,” You replied, stepping forward to pull him into a hug. He reciprocated without hesitation.

“So…” He said, not letting go. “Do you want to go out with me tonight?”

“Yes,” You said, cuddling him closer.

He pulled back and kissed you for a very long time, tasting your lips and teasing his tongue just inside your mouth. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and just looked at your face, touching your cheeks with his fingertips. Eventually he stepped back.

“Let’s go.”

Dating him was amazing. He knew everything there was to know about you, so he took you to places you loved, to all your favorite restaurants, to concerts he knew you’d enjoy. It was like you’d been dating for years already, even though it was just a few weeks. You made out like teenagers, hot and heavy, but he was careful about being intimate too quickly, though, still fearful about being a rebound. You respected that.

You were already talking about the future, though. You both wanted to get married eventually and to be parents before you turned thirty. Before breaking up, you had been talking about having kids with Eric, which was something he had expressed interest in during the start of your relationship, but recently he had been making excuses, like he didn’t have enough in savings or he didn’t feel ready. You guessed you knew why now.

You were worried that his family would be angry with you for ending your relationship with Eric and dating Errol, but they seemed completely understanding. It was likely they were also aware that Errol had been in love with you forever, and the fact that Eric cheated on you wasn’t something they were proud of. You were still warmly invited to all the family gatherings with Errol, and while having Eric there was a little awkward, his seething anger at seeing you happy with Errol was the best revenge you could have asked for.

“They let everyone in the office have the day off. Do you want to hang out today?” You asked Errol one night after about a month and a half of dating.

“Ordinarily I’d love to, but I’m feeling kinda weird today. Squishy. I think I’m going to have my period soon.”

He wasn’t being hyperbolic; nagas with male sex organs both created the eggs and fertilized them, but they didn’t have a womb or cavity in their bodies where the eggs could incubate, which is why they needed people with uteruses to propagate the species. It took a month for the eggs to develop inside them, but after that, they could implant them into another person’s body at any time they chose. However, after a year, the eggs died naturally and were expelled from their bodies, therefore, male nagas experienced periods once a year. Eric usually went to a specialized facility where the eggs would be humanely disposed of.

“Are you sure? Isn’t it rather soon for that.”

“I went into heat last week. The eggs usually die quickly after that.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” You said. “Why did you go into heat? That typically only happens when nagas in a sexual relationship with someone, right?”

“That, and if you’re experiencing extreme sexual needs that aren’t being met.”

“Oh. Ohhh…” You hissed in a breath. “Is it because of me?”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” He reassured you. “It’s my problem. I’ll take care of it.”

You were silent for a moment of deep contemplation. He seemed to sense you were thinking about something.

“What’s the matter?” He asked.

“Do you think the eggs are still viable?”

It was his turn to be silent. “Um… maybe. Probably. I think it’ll be another week before I need to go in to evacuate them. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking…” You said slowly. “We both said we wanted kids. And I know we’re just starting out, and this is super sudden, and it probably doesn’t even make sense to do this now, and we haven’t even had sex yet, but… oh, god, I’m rambling…” You sighed heavily. “If you’d like, we can wait until next year when we’ve been together for longer, but… it just seems like this is a good opportunity. It… feels right, you know what I mean? If that’s what you want.”

He took another moment of silence to think really hard about what you were saying. “Are you sure about this, honey?” He asked you finally.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” You said resolutely. “I love you, and I’m in a good place, both emotionally and financially. I’m ready to be a mom. I have been for years.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt anxiously. “Is this something you want? I mean… I totally understand if it isn’t. If you want to wait, that’s fine with me. I just… I want to do this.”

His voice turned sultry. “You really want my eggs?”

You grinned and bit your lip. You’d learned through hints in conversations you had with him that he had a little bit of a breeding and pregnancy kink.

“Yeah. But we should act fast if we want them to take.”

“I’ll be right over,” He said, and the phone clicked.

You immediately went into the bathroom to get ready, feeling nervous. There was a weight of expectation on you, not just because you were talking about getting pregnant, but also because of how long Errol had wanted to be with you. You were scared that you wouldn’t live up to his expectation.

He arrived shortly after, looking excited and nervous. You pulled him into your arms and kissed him. He was shaking.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“Yeah,” He said, touching your face reverently. “I’ve just… I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. I can’t believe it’s actually happening.”

You smiled softly at him. “Come on.” You took him by the hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. He took a deep, shaky breath and followed.

Once in the room, he pulled you in and kissed you again, deeper this time, more probing, his body pressed flush against yours.

“I’m not sure how to… begin…” He said. “I don’t know what you like and don’t like yet.”

“We can learn as we go,” You said. “We don’t have to rush.”

“Well, what do you like? Do you have any kinks I should know about?”

You laughed. “I have a few, I guess.”

“Tell me about one,” He said.

Instead of telling, you knelt down and sat on your knees with your butt resting on your feet, perched forward on your hands, and looked up at him through your lashes.

“What would you like me to do for you?” You asked, biting your lip.

His eyebrows rose and a startled smile spread across his face. “Oh,” He said. Slowly, he took off his long shirt, exposing his torso and the slit on his lower abdomen, usually closed and imperceptible from his scales, but now swollen and puckered slightly. He ran his fingers through your hair where you were crouched on the floor and came close, so that his slit was near your face.

“Touch it for me, sweetie,” He said.

Gently, you circled one finger around the slit, feeling it pulse under your touch. He exhaled sharply and his head fell back, his braid swinging. With your forefinger and middle finger, you stroked it up and down, watching it open slowly. You leaned forward and kissed it, and he spasmed, groaning.

Gradually, two dicks emerged from his slit, a long, thin one with a spear-like head, and a shorter, thick one with a bulbous head. You knew each had a different purpose. Normally, the thin one would be retracted so that nagas could just enjoy sex, but the thin one was an ovipositor. It’s what implanted the eggs. You knew not to touch it, since it secreted a numbing agent that made implanting the eggs easier.

“Now?” You asked.

“Not yet,” He said. “You’re not ready yet. Stand up.”

You obeyed, and he began to undress you. You started to help, but he said, “No, no, let me do it.”

You put your arms back down and let him peel your clothes off. And then he just looked at you.

“Stand still,” He said. “Stay quiet.”

You nodded, obeying.

“Good girl,” He whispered. “That’s my good girl.”

He started with your shoulders, letting his fingers run over your skin, down your arms, up your sides, caressing your breasts, down your belly, and reached one hand between your legs. You gasped.

“Shh,” He said. “Stay silent.”

It was a hard order to follow, as he touched your pearl and massaged it slowly, running a finger inside your slit as he did. Your breathing was uneven and you had to bite a finger, but you managed to be quiet.

“You can make all the noise you want soon,” He promised seductively. “I just want to test how good you can be for me.”

You nodded again, your body shivering at his touch.

He brought his face very close to yours, so that your lips were mere millimeters apart, but stopped short of actually kissing you. You could feel his cool breath on your neck and chest, and it made your heart race.

“You’re getting there,” He said, pushing a finger inside your entrance. You inhaled, but bit down on your cheek to stay silent.

“Good girl,” He said, pulling his finger out. "Lay face down on the bed and lift your ass up. Spread your legs open.”

You nodded again and followed his orders, doing exactly what he asked of you. He slithered up behind you and went back to touching between your legs with one hand, the other sliding up and down your spine. You felt him sink down and kiss your thighs.

“You can moan for me, darling,” He said.

You were happy to obey, and whimpered against your pillow as he licked a long stripe from behind, kneading your buttocks as he did. He moaned as he sucked on you, your legs shaking. He pressed his thumb into you as he sucked, and you thought you were going to cum. He stopped just before that happened, leaving you feeling desperate.

“Good,” He said. “You’re perfect.” He crawled over you from the back so that his face was next to yours and he kissed you. “Are you still sure about this? We can just have sex, I don’t have to breed you.”

“You want to, don’t you?”

“Don’t worry about what I want right now, are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes,” You simpered. “I want it. Give them to me. Please. I want them.”

He bit his lip, looked at you like you were something he wanted to eat, and grinned. “Good girl.” He went out of view then, and you felt his hands on your hips.

“Be still,” He said. “Let me in.”

You nodded, and felt the slim tube enter your body. The anesthetic began working immediately, so you only had a vague sensation of it pushing all the way in, penetrating your womb, and fixing itself there.

“Are you hurting, love?” He asked as he lay over you, putting his arm under your head so that you could lay on it and resting his body on top of you. Your hips were still in the air and your stomach wasn’t touching the bed.

“No, I’m okay,” You replied.

“Good,” He said, sounding a bit strained, his body tensing. His stuttering breath blew through your hair. “It’s starting.”

He grunted, but you couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure or pain. His breathing was sharp and punctuated as the egg moved down through the ovipositor and into you. You could feel a small swell in your stomach, but it wasn’t painful. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder and relaxed and shuddered, gasping.

“Did it hurt?” You asked.

“Not exactly,” He replied a little breathlessly. “It feels good, but it’s also a bit of work to push it out. Sorry this isn’t as sexy as you might have hoped.”

“Who said it wasn’t?” You replied, nuzzling him. “It’s like a special kind of foreplay. Besides, I’m really enjoying all the sounds that are coming out of you.”

“I can feel that,” He said, laughing. “You keep squeezing me.” He tensed again and started grunting, hugging you tightly.

“You’re doing great,” You told him.

“This is… harder than I thought it would be,” He said stiltedly. You could feel the sweat from his brow dripping on your skin.

“You can do it,” You said, kissing his arm as it gripped you and biting his thumb. “How many do you think there are?”

“I think three,” He said. He exhaled forcefully, and you felt another swell slip into you as he panted.

“One more, honey,” You said. “Deep breaths.”

He snickered, and then groaned. “Okay…” He said. He gripped you hard as the last one came and passed through. You were beginning to feel a full sensation in your belly and felt glad this was the last one.

Once it was out, the ovipositor retracted and he flopped onto the bed, gasping like a fish.

“Whoa,” He said. “Laying them in a person is way different than disposing of them.”

“How so?” You asked, moving to lie on your side so that you could touch him. He was clammy and cold.

“That felt great,” He said, looking over at you and smiling. “Like, it hurt a bit, but it felt like a small orgasm every time.”

“Probably a biological incentive to procreate,” You said, kissing his chest and neck.

He snorted. “Probably.” He looked at you with his eyes half lidded. “It’s going to be a few minutes until you get the feeling back down there. Why don’t you spend some time and play with me?”

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“Do you want me to punish you?” He asked.

“Maybe I’ll like it,” You said with a smirk.

He took you by the chin and made you look down at the second, larger cock, which was still erect and bobbing. “Touch me.”

You went down and sat astride his tail so that he could watch you take his cock in your hand, and begin to slowly pump it up and down.

“Hmm, that’s good,” He said with a satisfied sigh. “Let me know when your feeling comes back. We don’t want to waste time.”

“I will,” You said, stroking him. Your stomach felt tight, so you rubbed it as you touched him, drawing his eye. He watched you hungrily.

“I can’t believe you did that,” He said, smiling at you.

“We’re only half-way there,” You told him. “Don’t get too excited.”

He bucked his tail and nearly knocked you over onto the bed, making you shriek and laugh.

After a few minutes of teasing and touching and good-natured laughter, the feeling began to return. You started rocking on his tail to be sure, and realized that you were extremely sensitive.

“It’s back?” He asked

You nodded, pleasuring yourself against his body.

“Good. Lay down.”

You obeyed, and he moved to lay on top of you, his tail between your legs and his slit lining up with yours, kissing you deeply and rolling your nipples in his fingers. He pushed himself inside you as he kissed you, careful not to go too deep, as the ovipositor had made you a little sore. You rolled your body against his in time with his thrusts. You were so sensitive that you could already feel the crest of ecstasy beginning to wash over you.

“I love you so much,” He whispered against your skin. “I’m so happy.”

“I love you,” You replied, your hands in his hair as he moved inside you with purpose, precision. “I’m close. I’m so close.”

He stopped immediately, and you groaned shrilly, the sensation of denial sending a shiver up your back.

“Not yet,” He said, biting your lower lip. “Not until I say. Be a good girl.”

You nodded, panting and trembling, but your body was betraying you, writhing desperately against him, trying to regain the friction.

“Be still,” He said. “I’m not going to move again until you be still.”

You squealed in need, but you did your best to make your body stop clutching at him. It took a minute, but you managed to settle down.

“Good,” He said, slowly moving inside you again. “Good girl.”

“Cum inside me,” You begged. “Please.”

“I will,” He said, kissing you. “When I want to. Be patient and I’ll reward you.”

Your body was wound so tightly that you thought you were going to explode, practically vibrating underneath him. The sight of it made him grin.

“You’re so beautiful,” He said, licking your earlobe, still keeping the maddeningly slow pace. “Do you want it that bad?”

“Yes!” You groaned. “Yes, please. Errol, please.”

He thrust sharply, but not hard, and you nearly came undone. You cried out, about to snap like a string.

“Are you always going to be a good girl for me?” He whispered sinfully.

“Yes!”

“Do you promise me?”

“Yes!”

“Say it. Say ‘I promise.’”

“I promise, I promise, please!”

His thrusts became targeted again. “Beg me some more.”

“Errol, please! Please let me cum, please!” You cried. Every muscle, every nerve in your body was screaming for release.

“You can cum when I tell you to,” He said, though his movements were extremely efficient now. He was very good at drawing this out.

“I can’t take it, please!” You begged.

“One more time, say you love me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I love you! I love you so much! Please!”

From there, he wasted no time, slamming himself into you with speed. In no time at all, you were a screaming, shaking mess underneath him, thanking him over and over. The tension in his body and the sudden shout and moaning from him told you that he had reached his peak too.

“Not yet,” He gasped, rearing up. “I’m not done yet.”

He had leaned up so that he could look down at you and put his hand on your stomach, feeling the new hardness there. He kept going, pistoning against your body, snapping his hips against you, and rode the wave for a second time, all focus and concentration.

The both of you came one final time before he collapsed on the bed beside you, sucking in air as hard as you were. For a few minutes, all you could do was breathe.

After some time, he left the bed and went into the bathroom, and you heard the water in the tub running. You were barely conscious when he came back and lifted you out of the bed, taking you into the bathroom, and lay you down in the warm water of the bath. You were so tired and boneless that you could hardly raise your head, so he carefully, lovingly washed your body, paying special attention to your belly.

“Are you alive?” He asked after some time of sitting next to the tub, watching you drift in and out.

“I think so,” You replied, opening your eyes to smile sleepily at him. “Do you think they took?”

“We won’t know for a while. You should take it easy until then.” He smoothed the hair away from your face and stroked your cheek. “You’re going to have my babies,” He said, laughing a little.

“I hope so,” You said, taking his hand and kissing the palm.

“Eric is going to be pissed,” Errol said, snickering.

You snorted. “Honestly, I haven’t thought about him once today. This isn’t about him.”

Errol kissed you. “You’re right. It isn’t. It’s about us.” He lay his hand on your stomach and smiled gently. “All of us.”

Only one of the eggs took, but that was okay. Errol’s parents were overjoyed to learn they’d be getting a grandchild. Both you and Errol decided Eric could learn it on Facebook, like all the other strangers and acquaintances in your lives.

You took maternity leave so that you could pass your gestational time in relative peace. Errol fussed over you, making sure you ate properly and went with you to all your appointments. You made the decision to lay the egg at home instead of the hospital, and Errol’s sister acted as the midwife. It was the toughest work you’d ever done, and Errol was the best cheerleader you could have asked for.

Errol took paternity leave, like you had done, since he couldn’t leave the egg, anyway. He incubated the egg for the rest of the gestation period, curled up around it day and night. Errol’s son, Ewan, was born six months after being conceived, and within another year, you and Errol were married.

You often wondered if things had been different, if you had dated Errol from the beginning instead of Eric, if you’d be as overjoyed as you were at the moment. But then you figured that wondering about what ifs was a waste of time. You had a happy family to look after now, after all, and another clutch on the way. There was no time to worry about the past. The future was right in front of you.

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