#this is messy as hell but in my defense it was meant to be a warmup.failed step one
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this one bit of my sketchpage was killing me so i coloured it
#ethubs#etho#bdubs#scribbles#mine#trying to put all my doodles onto the one page again like i did in 2020#this is messy as hell but in my defense it was meant to be a warmup.failed step one
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the flowers that bloom without you (tartaglia x reader)
warnings: I LOVE CHILDE SO MUCH, angst, blood and slight gore descriptions, hanahaki au, reader is not traveller, reader is childe’s childhood friend
“Does love truly need words?”
Ajax never really understood what you meant by that. Never really got your cryptic bouts of speech as you stared out the window, blanket tucked over your form as you listened to the bustling of the city, your face looking weary, bags under your eyes dark, skin almost icily cold whenever he would lay a hand upon you to personally check on your condition.
From personal nurses, personal doctors, hells, even researchers that he paid extensively to search for the cause of your illness. Yet, an answer had yet to be found, he’s growing restless with every passing day, anger and irritation swirling in his head with every lower-rank recruit he inevitably beats to a pulp to release stress.
Just what was the source of this stubborn disease?
Your condition would never get better if you had stayed in the cold, unforgiving climates of Morepesok.
You would only seek to worry him whilst he was out on the job, thousands of miles away from you. His family can only do so much by informing him of your worsening, deteriorating self. Your insistent coughs, your shortened breaths, a body that seemed to be growing colder and colder that rivalled the icy winds of the small fishing village that you both grew up in.
Another thing Childe has noticed in the time you spent writing each other, was that you liked to prance around the truth.
You weren’t getting better like you claimed in those letters.
He doesn’t ever wish to come home only to see your tombstone. He could never begin to even fathom the thought. So upon the news in which he had orders to depart to the warmer atmosphere of Liyue, he whisked you away.
(Despite your initial rejections.)
He’s not taking anymore chances. Not when you had insisted that it was nothing, that you’ll be fine, only for it to end with you collapsing to the ground right before him, mouth spewing globs of blood that had caked up and solidified within your throat. He didn’t know whether he was more disgusted to that sight, or of himself for being too patient with you.
Though, you seem to be having quite the improvement to your wellbeing ever since you’ve arrived in the bustling city of Liyue.
“A crush? All of a sudden?” He’s chewing on some sweet potato snacks he had bought for you to come try together, a bag of the aforementioned snack on his lap as he opens his mouth to let you throw another into his mouth for him to catch. The odd, salty sweetness is actually quite addicting.
(And so were the giggles you made whenever he successfully caught one.)
“It’s not all of a sudden!” You’re huffy, defensive, angry and quite frankly, offended as you cross your arms, lightly smacking him as he feigns pain, an overly dramatic yelp and rubbing of his injury following.
“I had it— Since—“ It’s cute how you fight to find the words, puffing your cheeks up, growing determined as you look back up at him. “Since a really long time, okay?! That’s how you know feelings like that are real!”
Always the hopeless romantic. He laughs at you as you continue to blow a fuse, warmth emanating in his chest as he notices the drastic improvements to your health.
You’re looking bright today. Face more coloured, hair even shinier than usual, eyes brighter than they have ever been before. Maybe you were getting better.
A light flick to your forehead as he watches you swipe at his hand with a blush and a smile.
“Why don’t you just confess then?”
You grow silent.
“I… don’t think I could find it in my heart to.” Your tired eyes trail out to the bustling city of Liyue as your demeanor falls back into a calm, eyes blanking out as murmured words are caught on his ears. “Falling in love is so unpredictable…” His fists clench.
He thinks you’re stupid, foolish even, to keep those messy, deep feelings hidden from this secret crush of yours. Those stringent secrets you keep, never telling them. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
You slap your cheeks, as if to snap out of your trance choosing to smile up at him from atop your bed instead. l swear I will find that strength one day!”
You’re so stupid. Yet, he still loves you all the same. You are his dearest childhood friend, after all.
(And that’s all you’ll ever be… Right?)
——
The festival is loud this year. You stare out of your bedroom window, barely able to see the explosion of colour against the starry night sky, obscured by tall buildings and infrastructure.
“Miss Lumine invited me to watch the lantern rite with her today!” His eyes are alight with mirth, his grin excited and just so… Full of life.
Ajax always looked the prettiest when he was happy.
So it’s okay. Whatever is okay as long as he is happy. Anything for him.
You don’t even mind the feeling of the flowers blooming deep within you. The itch in your throat, the fluttering you had to endure in your lungs.
You do it for love. Love so deep-sated and rooted to your very core, it hurts. Love so hard to describe, you sometimes fear that it doesn’t exist until you see him walk into the room, causing the blooming, the feelings literally swirling within your lungs, shortening your breaths as the petals flutter about in your heart.
You’re in love with him. Unbelievably, helplessly so.
You can’t even feel the hot tears dripping onto your hands as lights of the glowing, festive explosions shine through your window, casting you in an almost apologetic glow as you hear the laughter of the common folk outside.
He chose her in the end. You’re not surprised, really. Who would even want to spend their time with the terminally ill? Who would ever want to watch the fireworks from within a glorified hospital room? The scent of iron with an undertone of flowery fragrances, paired with quite frankly, a shitty view?
“Ajax— Would you have time to watch the fireworks with me this year…? Since you have—“
You take in a breath, your hands trembling as they dig into the skin of your thighs, your blanket obscuring them where you laid. “Plans with Miss Lumine.”
Lumine, Lumine, Lumine. The traveller who had stolen his attention away with barely a twitch of her pinky finger, the one who had a natural disposition for battle, a prowess for duels. She who was charming, skilled and everything you weren’t.
It hurts all the more at the thought of what a wonderful person she is. Everything that you could never even hope to be.
You can’t even resent her, for her kindness and willingness to help those who needed it preceded every silver of hatred you built. She was simply… Her. And you could never find it in yourself to hate someone who had as much goodwill as she did.
A contemplative hand is placed under his chin, before that stupidly pretty smile on his face breaks out. “Of course! I’d be stupid to not come spend time with you.” A wink is sent your way as he holds your hand, winding your pinkies together.
You want to cry.
“Love can be so fickle, Ajax.” You’re staring straight into his eyes as that promise manifests from the entanglement of your fingers. Are you… Tearing up?
“For if you get caught in it’s arms,” You’re still smiling as he throws you a look of utter confusion, patting your head as he showers you with attention, unwinding your fingers to bring out a handkerchief to wipe at your tears for you. The bouquet of glaze lilies by your bedside shimmering in the afternoon sunshine.
“You’ll be happy even if you di—“
“There you go being cryptic again,” He’s sighing, absolutely confused as he lightly dabs at your eyes. “You’re going to make me sad, you know?” All this talk about death… He wants to keep you smiling, even if it’s just for a little while.
It doesn’t matter that he broke that silly promise. He’s happy, so you are too. That’s all you could ever hope for.
——
“I’m surprised you picked me.”
“Of course, comrade!” He’s smiling, twirling a lone Glaze Lily in his hand as he regards the traveller, leaned back and elbows rested upon the railing as he looked up at the brilliant sky.
“I’m not one to turn down a good time. Plus,” The flower is held between his fingers as he straightens his back. “I’m here to collect my insider information from my favourite errand girl.” A handsome grin growing on his cheeks as he sees the golden-haired girl stand beside him.
“I want information, comrade.” The chopsticks in his hand are fumbled with, the mechanics of it lost. “On someone precious to me.”
“Hanahaki.” Lumine’s voice is dead serious as her eyes get lost at the sight of the lanterns above. “A terminal illness that stems from love, causing flowers to take root in their lungs.” An ironic disease, taking ‘blooming feelings’ far too literal, utilizing such a pure emotion against the victim. It makes him sick to his stomach.
Good. As expected of the famous, reliable little traveller. More competent than any goon he’s ever had.
He’s growing anxious with her words, though. “And the cure?”
“Surgery. It’s possible for a procedure to be done to remove the roots on the lungs. There’s a surgeon in Inazuma that—“
Then it’s done. That’s all? Then you’ll be cured and won’t be bedridden? He’ll arrange for it at the earlie—
“But,” Lumine’s voice is slightly shaky, her grip on the rails tightening as the feel of the metal digs into her palms. “The feelings of the victim will disappear.” Her golden eyes meet a palpitating, uneasy blue. “Sources cited that… The surgery will remove any and all emotion from them.” He knows what she’s implying.
You’ll never fall in love again.
“I don’t ever want to let them go, Ajax.” Your hand is over your heart as your shy gaze meets his. “It’s so precious to me.” The smile on your face begets the stuttering in his chest, the sweat on his palms.
Beautiful.
No. He— Can’t. The thought of you never able to think of another person romantically… Is sickeningly appealing. No. He can’t do that to you. Not if you’ll be unhappy because of it.
He gulps, as if swallowing the lump stuck in his throat. “Is there no other solution?”
“Reciprocation of their feelings.” Lumine’s straightforward, quick to the point. “True reciprocation.” Requited love.
He grits his teeth. So he has to track down whomever you admire… And make them love you? That’s… Honestly not that hard of a request. You’re… Lovely. The loveliest person he has ever had the honour of knowing.
It’s hard to not fall in love with you. And he…Doesn’t like the feeling, the idea of you being in love with someone else. He never did. And he doesn’t think he ever will if it’s not—
(What is he going on about? This isn’t the time for this!)
“Fine.” It’s spat out in disgust. “Do you have any leads on the bastard?” It’s a last resort, a manifestation of the fact that he would do anything for you.
(Even if he feels the ripping, clawing pain at his heart.)
Lumine looks… Absolutely unimpressed. Hand massaging her temple as she fought the urge to wring the Harbinger’s neck.
——
It’s a rush he never thought he had to face, didn’t want to face. How is he so dense? So stupid?
“So? Who is this crush of yours?” The smile is unsteady, almost forced on his face as he watches your expression switch to one of embarrassed shame, almost choking on the scallion pancake in your mouth as he pulled the fork away from your lips.
“He— He’s…” He’s right before you. Closed eye smile, teasing grin and absolutely, infuriatingly cute.
“You can’t just ask that all of a sudden!” Your hand lifts up in defensive, pure embarrassment, not taking into regard how much the adrenaline of love can give you so much strength.
It ends with you coddling a weeping Ajax’s head in your lap, stroking his hair as he continued to fake the apparent agony you caused him, letting him snuggle himself into your arms and overtake his ‘competition’ vying for you.
Good. It’s good that he was the one filling your mind. He doesn’t like it when that secret admirer of yours is the one that takes over your thoughts. He doesn’t want to admit how warm you make him feel on the inside despite how cold your body is.
He doesn’t want you to want that stupid loser of a person who made you so fluttery, making you akin to a blushing schoolgirl whenever he brings that crush of yours up.
Was it stupid of him to not have noticed that he was in love with you all this time? How long had he been tying himself back? How much longer does he have to give to you?
How long did he make you suffer?
Time has been cruel to him, to you.
——
You’re smiling. Why are you still smiling? Aren’t you in pain? Aren’t you scared that you’re going to die? Why are you spending your last moments like this?
He hears it, barely even breathed out from your choked throat.
“Ajax…” You coughing fits are acting up again.
“If- If in another lifetime…” It’s getting worse, your breaths are hacked, blood spilling from your lips with every syllable forced out. “If you could ever learn-“ A multitude of bloodied petals bloom within your throat, suffocating your words, a final attempt to save you the heartbreak you knew all too well. “To love me-“
He calls for the doctor, turning away to grab their attention before your fingers weakly tug at his sleeve.
Your face is aghast with the pain, your mouth stained with blood, crimson petals discharge from within you, stalks entwining and curling itself around your heart, a final comfort and a warning of your last moments.
“Would you please have me?”
Realization strikes, the feeling finally settling down in his stomach in an odd satisfaction, the dull throb of pain in his brain as his breath hitches.
Why? Why why why why why why? Why now?
He doesn’t say anything, trembling hands grasping your own in his before he leans in to capture your cold, colourless lips with his own, returning every ounce of unsaid affection, every bit of undivided attention he owed you.
Childe— No, Ajax doesn’t care that all he can taste is the vile flavour of petals mixed with blood and bile, he can only feel you through this kiss so raw and emotional, that all he can comprehend is the texture of your bitten lips, the slipping warmth of your skin, the feeling of loss that envelops his entire being.
He pulls away, hoping, praying that you understood his reply to your confession. That your eyes will flutter open, staring at him as if he picked the stars from the sky and placed them in your hand, tears that stained your cheeks flaring within your eyes from happiness, skin reinvigorated by the jubilant feeling of having this silent love of yours finally being heard by the object of its affections.
It all goes quiet save for the sounds of his despaired sobs as the wind carries your final breaths away.
Too late.
#whalewrites#tartaglia x reader#childe x reader#genshin angst#tartaglia angst#childe angst#genshin impact x reader
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hi hello angel! i have a prompt request <3 “it’s nine in the morning, are you seriously already in swimming trunks?” with steve x punchy... i imagine some cute scenes by steve's pool, maybe some sm*t maybe not dealers choice ! i just love those two sweethearts
thanks so much for your request! and for giving me the opportunity to write more punchy x steve!! hope you like it!! — the one where steve buys his summer hating gf a bathing suit (1.9k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
No parents. Big house. The perfect concoction for you and Steve to play Old Married Couple whenever work permitted it.
He closed at Family Video the day before while you slaved over a fourteen-hour shift — just so you could have the weekend off together. The aching bones, tired feet, and frustration-induced migraine were worth it, though. Because it meant waking up in the arms of your boyfriend without either of you having to be in a rush come sunrise.
And even though you remember falling asleep with Steve’s arm wound tightly around your waist — because you spent a good five minutes arguing about the way his palm laid on the pudge of your stomach — you wake up with the boy nowhere to be found.
You rouse before you’re ready to that morning, freezing without the furnace of Steve Harrington and furry chest holding you. You curl beneath his plaid sheets and bury your face into his navy blue pillow. The lingering scent of his musky cologne and floral shampoo does little to quell your yearning.
You decide to go on the hunt for the lost boy.
Still in your pajamas from the night before — a wrinkled Hellfire shirt, a rather modest pair of cotton underwear, and smudged makeup you were too tired to take off the night before — you trek through the empty Harrington household.
“Stevie?” you call for him. Your only answer is an eerie silence. You try again. “Steve?”
He’s not in the bathroom or the upstairs den. He’s not in the living room downstairs, either, or in the adjacent kitchen. He’s quite literally nowhere, and the feeling of affirmed loneliness settles like a brick in the pit of your empty stomach.
Turns out, No Parents, Big House was only fun when Steve was there to share it with you.
You convince yourself he’s probably out getting breakfast for the both of you and didn’t want to wake you up before he left — because he’s way too sweet for his own good. So you decide to busy yourself in wait for him. You pour yourself a coffee from the bubbling machine, sloshing the heady brown liquid into a Snoopy mug you found in the back of the cabinet.
The sliding glass door a little ways behind you whirs violently when it’s opened with a too aggressive hand. The sound of it makes your heart lurch with fleeting panic. Your head whips over your shoulder in the direction of the sound. Drops of coffee spill onto the marble countertop as you flinch.
Steve enters the house then, wearing nothing but a pair of red shorts and black sunglasses — his lean torso and accompanying umber chest hair totally on display. He’s beaming like the yellow sun outside at the sight of you. His honey eyes twinkle with mirth as his hand pushes his RayBans to the top of his messy hair.
“Oh. Hey, babe,” the boy greets with a tightlipped grin as he shuts the glass door behind him.
With one hand on your racing heart, you shove the coffee pot back into place. “Where were you— It’s nine in the morning, Steve! Why the hell are you already in swimming trunks?”
Steve’s gotten used to how loudly you speak sometimes. It’s usually when you’re happy, sometimes when you’re angry, and on the rarer occasion that something’s frightened you. He likes when you’re enthusiastic and talking his ear off, though, because he hates when you get quiet.
If loudmouth, glittering, sunshine-coated Punchy is ever not talking, something very, very bad has happened.
“In my defense, I’ve been up since seven, alright?” Steve contends, laughing softly to himself. As he walks further into the kitchen, you see he’s adorned his outfit with a pair of rubber sandals. They flip-flop, flip-flop against the tile with every stride. “I went for a run, took a shower, got you coffee—”
He motions to the cardboard cups sitting side by side on the island countertop. The former has been relieved from its lid and most of the sugary content inside. The latter is still intently covered in attempts to keep it warm. In your fleeting alarm and distant heartache, your eyes completely missed them.
“Oh…” you hum quietly in response, still clutching the warm Snoopy mug in your cold hands. “Thank you…”
You walk the short distance to the kitchen island and set the ceramic cup on the counter. You pop the lid off the lukewarm coffee — already adorned with your usual two creams, three sugars combo. You pour the liquid into the mug until it’s filled to the very brim. Steve watches with a distant smile as you take a careful sip from it, mindful not to spill it.
“And since it’s such a nice day outside, I wanted to get a jump on it and head out there,” the boy continues with a shrug. He leans his head to his freckled shoulder as he grins down at you. “I was waiting for you to wake up so I could spend it with you…”
You mirror his too cute posture, tilting your own head and peering up at him through your lashes. Bits of mascara are still smudged around your eyes as you blink up at him. “Well, that’s very sweet of you, Stevie.”
He wraps you in his arms, two golden limbs winding around your waist. Your shoulder presses into the center of his bare chest when he pulls you into him.
He watches you take another slow sip of your milky brown coffee — always so attentive in the way he gazes at you, like he’s checking to make sure you’re okay. You don’t make a face like it’s burned you or like he’s gotten you the wrong order, so he smiles.
“Go get your swimsuit on, alright? We’re poolin’ all day today, babe.”
“Ew, no. Gross,” you grumble, shrugging your shoulder as you halfheartedly writhe in his arms. “I wasn’t made to be outside, okay? I am not a creature of sunshine, Steven.”
His pink lips jut softly out as his brows furrow. “Hm. That’s weird. ‘Cause you’re my sunshine.”
Your nose scrunches up at him, obviously discontent with his compliment.
The look makes him grin. “Exactly,” he coos before leaning down to kiss the tip of your rumpled nose.
“I don’t even have a bathing suit here! Or, like, at all.”
“I bought you one,” Steve shrugs.
You squint at him. “No, you didn’t…”
“Yes, I did,” he singsongs. “It’s in the dresser with my swim trunks. The—”
“Bottom drawer,” you finish for him, still a bit monotoned with contempt.
It makes the two of you grin like a couple of lovesick idiots. There was hardly anything more domestic than knowing how someone organizes their wardrobe — sharing a part of it with them even more so. But the gooey, warm, marshmallow fluff thought is swiftly eclipsed by your distant disdain for the bathing suit he bought you.
It’s not even that it’s ugly or anything, because it’s actually quite cute. It’s made even cuter by the idea that your pretty boy got it for you — that he saw it and thought of you because he loves you. But it goes against everything in your personal Punchy Doctrine.
You never really learned how to swim, and the sun is your arch nemesis in the summertime — because your pretty all-black outfits do not fare well in the heat. You hate bikinis even more. Mostly because you feel like they’re a direct result of the patriarchal male gaze and your body is nothing if not a symbol of protest.
But you do love Steve. And Steve isn’t like the assholes that used to ogle at you in your swimsuit or sneer at you for not having a flat stomach.
Steve loved you, and you loved him back, so you decide to humor him and wear it despite everything that tells you not to.
“Ooh,” the boy singsongs when you walk through the sliding glass door. He’s already sprawled out on one of the lounge chairs beside the glittering blue pool. He’s tossed a towel over the one beside him for you and preemptively dragged it several inches closer. You laugh as he announces to no one, “Look how pretty my girlfriend is!”
“Shut up,” you grouse and shut the door behind you.
The early morning heat is tolerable, but still all consuming. The humidity sticks to your bare skin with an inescapable grip as the sun pierces every inch of you it can touch. You’re already mourning the cold of Steve’s house. Not a creature of sunshine, indeed.
“Do you like it?” he asks, squinting at you through his sunglasses.
You cross your arms as you peer down at him. “Do you want me to answer that honestly or…?”
“It’s perfect for you! What do you mean?” Steve argues, his voice several octaves higher as he rises from his seat. He swings his legs off the side of it and uses his glasses to push back his wild honey hair. His hands gesticulate wildly as he continues. “It’s black — which I know is your favorite color — and it’s got spiderwebs on it because I know you’re into… spiders, and… weird stuff…”
“And what about the cutouts on the side, huh?” you tease in a lilt. “What’s that for?”
A boyish grin tugs at Steve’s pink mouth as his eyes flit to your hips. The high-waisted bottoms are slatted along the sides to reveal large sections of your skin. Your hips pokes out beneath them, not quite as slim as the designer intended. You wear your pudge with pride anyway, especially with the way Steve looks at you. His eyes twinkle with lust and adoration and sunshine.
“That was just a little treat for me,” the boy confesses with an innocuous shrug.
You scoff. “Right.”
“Well… for what it’s worth… I think you look really pretty, Punchy.”
You meet his sincere glimmer with a beam. Your eyes trail over his muscular form, marveling silently at the way his chest glitters golden beneath the sun and how his trunks bunch up to reveal more of his thighs.
For a second, you can’t believe he’s yours — that Punchy ended up with Steve The Hair Harrington. But then you realize that he is yours, and that you can kiss him silly because you’re his, too.
“You look really pretty, too, Stevie,” you gush as you launch yourself into his lap, a bit more aggressively than you intended to.
He huffs at your sudden weight, but hugs you back when your arms wrap around his neck. He eases the both of you back into the lounge chair, with you resting most of your weight on top of him.
“You plan on staying like this all day, babe?” he asks, laughing and hoping you’ll say yes.
“Yep,” you affirm before the words leave his mouth, half-muffled because you’re talking into his neck.
“Even if it gets too hot?”
“Especially if it gets too hot,” you joke. You pull back from him slightly to find the boy smiling at you, one eye squinted shut to hide from the sun. You beam back at him, brighter. “You’re too sexy not to hang on to, Steve Harrington. I don’t think I can let you go.”
“Good,” Steve hums back. His fingers squeeze the sides of your hips, warm and reassuring. “I don’t think I want you to me go.”
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#stranger things#steve harrington#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#punchy x steve#stevie drabble#st drabbles#bug's summer fic fest!
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Hi! I remember you talking about doing shadow work (in a reply to an ask, I think); do you have any advice on how to start? Especially for someone who who has a really hard time with consistency/habits? Thanks!
For me it is not an intentional practice separate from my regular life, it is an orientation toward my own most negative thoughts/impulses/reactions. I do not believe that any thought is harmful or morally wrong to have, and so when I experience a thought that is violent, cruel, bitter, pathetic, prejudicial, short-tempered, jealous, whatever else, I accept it, and study it with curiosity rather than self-condemnation.
I notice patterns over time in what I am particularly un-evolved and unenlightened about. What hang ups do I have? What weird bullshit respectability politics or traditional gender norms do I still apply to myself or to others? Who do I fuckin hate and why?
Which of these things can I just kind of shrug at and accept as a feature of my programming and which ones do I see seriously holding back my life? That's probably the hardest part of shadow work for me. I'm very aware of a lot of my flaws and the things i'm irrationally emotionally reactive to and defensive about, but I get attached to my way of seeing things. It can be scary to become more open-minded and uncertain and less spiky. And some things just aren't easy to change even if I want them to. Part of shadow work means allowing oneself to be in an unfinished state.
Another part of it for me is accepting with a dark kind of gratitude that the world would be a pretty terrible place if everyone was like me. There is so much about humanity that I do not understand. I could never be a surgeon. I could never be a good parent. I could never be a social worker. There is so much I am so bad at. Maybe this is the Narcissism and Lack of Empathy talking, but I've had to really humble myself. I used to think I was so much more rational and less of a waster of time and resources than most people around me. Now I realize I have run on self-denial and repressed emotionality for a very long time and demanded that life have some Purpose when it doesn't. So a lot of my shadow work has been acknowledging my ultimate smallness and feebleness and just general uselessness -- i have a lot to be grateful to other people for doing, but also life has no purpose that needs to be fulfilled so i can just exist and suck for every single second that i'm alive if that's what i'm gonna do.
radical acceptance shit is definitely mixed in there, and some DBT kinda strategies. I've finally arrived at a place where I can love my dissatisfaction as a core part of me and accept that life is not meant to be happy and comfortable. we always keep moving, changing our environments to make them a little better, chasing after new passions and then getting disillusioned with them, falling in and out of love, getting lost. we're always lost. we're always making mistakes and being dumb as humans. that's like what we are. silly little freaks that make up lots of pretend games for fun but then get swept up in believing them too much. i kind of feel at peace now with the fact that i'll always be messy and impulsive and have weird beliefs and will change constantly and look back on my past with a cringe reaction every four or five years. i dont expect myself to ever arrive, because what the hell would that look like?? being satisfied and happy sure sounds a lot like being dead.
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craving: kdy.
⨯ pairing: doyoung x pre-med!reader
⨯ word count: 704
⨯ summary: you don't mean to overwork yourself, but when you do, doyoung is always there to bring you comfort
⨯ content: fluff, literally just cute doyoung being domestic
⨯ extra content: meant to be read alongside these texts
⨯ playlist: for days, rini / hope you do, oceanfromtheblue / more than enough, alina baraz
⨯ a/n: this was a request, i hope it's alright!
. . .
You didn’t mean to ignore Doyoung’s texts. Really, you didn’t. If you had to be honest, there weren’t many things in life that trumped your boyfriend. However, when it came to Organic Chemistry, he seemed to be beat.
It had been at least a week since you had last seen the man, and you knew more than anyone that he was going to complain about withdrawals the next time you saw him. Unfortunately, that would not be anytime soon.
Waking up from a nap after your shift at the hospital had you feeling like you were in a different dimension and not in a good way. Putting it simply, you were absolutely exhausted. You had spent hours this week working on your thesis paper, and the fact that you had to balance it with your volunteer hours at the hospital felt like hell.
doyoung [ 4:12pm ]: date tonight?
That was the last text that had been sent and left on delivered for at least 6 hours now. Thankfully, Doyoung wasn’t someone who was easily upset. He understood your dedication to your studies and career; in fact, he was most likely your biggest support. He loved to make your lunches before your shift, and more often than not, he was quizzing you with flashcards that he helped make. That thought alone made your heart nearly overflow with care and affection for the man.
With a small huff, you decide that it’s best to get some sort of sustenance in your system before you begin your dreaded study session. You expect your apartment to be void of any form of life, however, the familiar figure on your couch tells you to believe otherwise. It seemed that you were not the only one taking a nap at this time. Doyoung was fast asleep, a blanket wrapped tightly around his figure as he snoozed. You loved this man with everything.
Doyoung had essentially broken into your apartment, and knowing him, there was going to be a meal for you to warm up in the microwave. In his defense, you had told him many times that he was welcome to come over when you were studying; the fact that the code for your place was also his birthday helped him sneak in whenever he wanted.
You’re certain your heart is filled with nothing but love for the man on the couch as you eat the warmed up fried rice he had made for you. He had left an adorable sticky note on the top of the bowl, and you swore that you were going to marry this man as you read his messy scribble.
hi my love!! i asked for a date tonight!! while i would prefer taking you out for a nice dinner, i do have papers to grade soooooo…. a study date will work too.
p.s i’m tired too TT wake me up AFTER you eat!
The smile on your lips doesn’t disappear as you eat, and even though you’re craving your boyfriend and his touch, you decide that letting him sleep in isn’t a horrible thing. So you take your time eating, and when you’re done, you take a quick shower, relishing in the way the hot water feels on your body.
But there’s something that would feel even better.
You can’t help yourself when you lift Doyoung’s blanket and squeeze onto the couch next to him, placing his arm around you. “Sleeping beauty, are you waking up anytime soon?”
“I don’t want to,” Doyoung hums softly, squeezing you in a tight hug.
You laugh at his words, sharing the sentiment. When you were in his arms, there was nothing more you wanted than to stay there. He was like your safe place, a place for you to let go of your worries and stress. “Don’t you have papers to grade?”
This only makes the male groan, and you swear he’s tempted to push you off the couch with the way he stares at you through half-lidded eyes. Before he can even think about doing that, you press a kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Come on, we’ve got a lot to do tonight.”
#nct#nct scenarios#nct scenario#nct imagines#doyoung#doyoung fic#doyoung scenarios#doyoung fluff#nct fluff#doyoung x reader
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you've made the mistake of endorsing my josé redemption arc so i shall release the horrors within
because i like to think that josé, to some extent, in the back of his mind always felt bad about hurting alejandro. yeah, he thought it was necessary to get him to man up and for alejandro's own good in the long run, hell he even enjoyed taking his frustration out on someone else sometimes. but you don't press lit cigarettes into your little brother's skin and just not care. you don't have someone looking at you with hate and fear and exhaustion in their expression every day and not feel anything. you don't hurt someone day after day and remain oblivious to what it does to them
and maybe years down the line, after a lot of therapy and a long and ongoing process of healing, josé will look at the tiny circular scars on alejandro's arm and feel this... pit in his stomach. something heavy and cold that claws at his insides and makes him nauseous, it clogs up his throat and makes him want to look away. it's the same feeling he gets whenever he sees the relief on alejandro's face when josé doesn't turn something into a competition between them, or when he tenses up at being called "al", and so on
it's so different from the warmth he feels deep in his chest whenever alejandro laughs at something he says, loud and unburdened and giddy, whenever he lets josé see him weak and in pain without trying to cover everything up, whenever he shows the tiniest bit of trust in his older brother
being part of alejandro's life means he has to put up with that annoying twig boyfriend of his, who seems dead set on antagonizing josé with snarky comments and long, hard stares that seem to burn the side of his face. but the effect is lessened whenever alejandro comes to his defense with an easy smile and a "he's not so bad, come on, stop being mean". it also means he has to deal with the lovey-dovey looks exchange between the two of them, which, eugh. but fine, whatever, he can handle it
he still fucks up sometimes, of course he does, they both do. they step on toes and revert back to old habits and hurt each other and pull away. sometimes it feels like it's an uphill battle of three steps forward, two steps back. it's painful, it's messy and it's a long, long process. but they're burromuerto men, which means they're stubborn beyond reason and the very thought of giving up is appalling to them
one time josé goes over to alejandro's and noah's apartment when the little bastard is at work. they're supposed to hang out, just the two of them, watch some cheesy telenovelas and poke fun at the acting, predict the plot 30 minutes in, and get way too invested in the characters' relationships. which is why he's confused to find the apartment silent and empty, no sign of life in the living room or kitchen. he knows alejandro's home, his shoes are at there under the hangers and the door was unlocked, so where is he? he calls out his name as he makes his way towards his bedroom, knocking on the door and waiting for a reply. still nothing. he pushes the door open cautiously and feels his heart drop to his stomach
he recalls both carlos and alejandro mentioning something about "bad days" offhandedly, but neither of them seemed particularly interested in talking about it in more detail, and so josé never bothered asking either. and now he can only assume this is what they meant, because to him this seems pretty fucking bad. alejandro's in his bed, blanket pooled around his hips, a layer of sweat covering his entire body, hair messy. one of his hands is gripping the sheets next to his thigh, knuckles white from the effort, while the other one is pressed to his forehead, obscuring his eyes from sight. he's shaking, jaw clenched tight and in the silence josé can hear how ragged and uneven his breathing is.
he can only stand and stare for another moment, before he calls out alejandro's name again, quiet and more uncertain than he's felt in a long time. alejandro startles at josé's voice, tensing up, before lifting his hand away from his face enough to look at josé. his eyes are bloodshot and filled with tears, exhausted and pained and utterly miserable, and josé doesn't know what to do
later on he's sitting on the edge of alejandro's bed, one of his hands caught in a death grip so tight he swears he can hear his bones creaking, his other hand wound around alejandro's shoulder and buried in tangled, sweaty hair. alejandro has his forehead pressed to josé's shoulder, his entire frame trembling like a leaf, breathing a mix of sniffles and gasps under the weight of his sobs, his hand clutching at josé's back so hard josé can feel his nails digging in.
and it's sat like this, holding alejandro, lightly scratching at his scalp, desperately trying not to fuck this up, that he realizes he doesn't want to see his little brother in pain anymore. fuck what the doctors say, or what his father or the rest of the family will think. this is his hermanito, and josé cannot stand seeing him in pain, not anymore
holy fuck anon just send me to an early grave why dont you UROGUGHGT *psychic damage* *psychic damage* *psychic damage*
yeah so this is EXACTLY what i had in mind with their relationship. you nailed it. it's on the damn cross. i dont even know what to say other than holy shit, you get exactly what i was putting down. AND THEN YOU RAN WITH IT. you dropped this bomb ass mini fic into my inbox and just. HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO RESPOND?? my jaw is between my feet.
we stan the burromuerto brothers redemption and healing arc WE STAN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BURROMUERTO BROTHER SUPREMACY!!!!!
#long post#tagging so i can save this and find it later#alenoah#josé burromuerto#alejandro burromuerto#total drama
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Promise
Cw: allusions to past SA, past abuse, Billy’s low self-esteem/self-worth issues, homophobic slur
“Where are you going?”
Billy grabs his car keys, looping them once around his finger as he turns towards Jim. He’s dressed in the tightest white tank Jim thinks he’s ever seen, a thick chain hangs around his neck and his legs are clad in black leather pants that might as well be spray painted on.
His face is defiant as he raises an eyebrow and says “out,” with a little cock of his head, a self-satisfied grin appearing at his lips.
In for one and out for two, Jim thinks, whilst willing his non-existent gods to give him strength, “yeah no shit kid, you know I mean a location.”
Billy looks like he’s weighing up whether to tell the truth or not, and Jim thinks he’s got a pretty good handle on him because he swears he can pinpoint the exact moment the kid decides to lie.
Grin fading, Billy says as casually as ever “just to a gig with Harrington and Munson,” a lie that rolls perfectly off his tongue. Jim hates how well the kid has had to learn to master the skill and if Jim hadn’t started to become accustomed to calling him out on it then he’s sure this would’ve been the end of the conversation.
But being the parent of one of Hawkins’s resident monster battling squad meant not only did he have his newly developed Billy intuition but he also had the ‘squad schedule’ memorised and he knows that tonight is some big Dnr? DD? Dnd? Tournament which means there’s no way Munson is anywhere other than at Steve’s house, and if the kids are at Steve’s there’s also no way he isn’t there too, the ever-present, ever-diligent, affectionately labelled babysitter.
So Jim tries, as ever, to tread carefully when he says “I think you might be a little mixed up there kid, I know for a fact they’re both at Harringtons tonight. Where are you going?”
The reply is immediate,“why the fuck do you want to know old man!?” it’s the reaction he’s expecting, and Jim knows this is gonna get messy cause when Billy gets defensive he also gets mean.
Jim goes to respond but Billy cuts in first with a sneer “oh, I know you like what you see don’t you? Fifty bucks officer and I’ll give you a blowie,” his voice drops suggestively as he trails off, opening his mouth a little, tongue tracing his lower lip in an obscene display. Jim’s gut clenches, performs a sickening twist, unfortunately he’s getting used to this pattern, this zero to one hundred, so he’s used to reminding himself, don’t rise to it remember, he’s just a scared boy with his back up.
In for one and out for two, his exhale is hard “you know that’s not, and never will be the case kid, I just want to know you’re gonna be safe,” Billy’s hand tightens hard around his keys at the word safe and Jim knows he still finds this comprehension hard. This idea that people care for him, that no one wants anything from him in return and it’s heartbreaking to see him test this safety in his own destructive way. He tests Jim the most, which with his history Jim gets because on paper he’s all of Billy’s abusers rolled into one horrifying monster, and that’s why he’s so patient with the kid, hell he’s more patient with him than he has been with anyone in his life, El included.
Billy seems to give a little, accepting that Jim hadn’t taken the bait, and raised the confrontation into some sort of screaming match. His eyes flick briefly to meet Jim’s before confidently stating “the Crown,” unconsciously squaring his stance, anticipating the reaction the name would get.
Jim can’t help the protective, automatic, loud “No,” that leaves his mouth, it brings Billy’s sneer right back “what you can’t handle me being a fag?” he growls “you know that’s not why Billy!” Jim says firmly, he’s getting louder, he knows he should tone it down, but the panic rising in his body is pushing itself into his voice, “the youngest people there are my age Billy and you know a few people have been vanishing in that area, I’ve told you about it!” he slaps his hand to his chest, partially to emphasise his point, partially to try and temper the panic punching his heart.
“Yeah and I’ll be fine, I can fight real well old man and I can fuck whoever I want!” he spits fight and fuck like they’re the same goddamn thing, and Jim doesn’t want to think about how interlinked the two acts may be when it comes to the kids past, but what he can blatantly see right now is that Billy is looking to hurt, not anyone else, just himself. The kid’s vibrating with something, desperately trying to hold himself steady.
Jim’s voice is cracking with a little anger now “Billy you’re not going,” he stands firm, doesn’t step towards the kid but doesn’t step back either. Billy looks ready to break, and Jim knows this can’t really be about going to the Crown because if he’d really wanted to he’d have turned his back and ran to the car by now, Jim isn’t that quick and Billy knows it. He sighs looks the kid dead in the eye and just says “Billy what’s going on here? What are we doing?”
Billy is knocked by the question, he looks devastatingly confused, his brow is furrowed and there’s a sheen to his eyes that suggests he really doesn’t know why he’s pushing like this. Jim watches him struggle for an answer, “I don’t know, it’s just…I don’t understand, I can’t, I know you won’t hit me, but it’s almost like…” he takes a breath “it’s almost like I want you to, like I’m waiting for something that will never happen and it’s just I dunno, the waiting is just building all up inside me, and it’s not going anywhere and I feel so…” his voice is cracking and tears are tracking his cheeks, Jim holds up a hand, doesn’t want the kid to have to keep pushing, he thinks he gets it.
“When I was in the prison,” Billy gasps at this, Jim isn’t surprised, he rarely shares these parts of himself, but the kid has shown him such raw emotion, such vulnerability that he feels he can share just a bit. He starts up again “When I was in the prison, and the anger built up, anger at the monotony, the pain, the loss, at everything. I would work myself so hard, to complete exhaustion, and that helped me sometimes.”
Billy looks a little bemused, but the tears have stopped “so I should what, break rocks when I feel like this?” Jim chuckles “nah, I’m not gonna get you to go break rocks kid, why don’t we go on a run? Go change, I will too and we’ll try and shake that feeling you’ve got off ok?” Billy nods, placing the keys back on the counter, bending to unlace his black boots, “And this isn’t a fix Billy we need to figure something proper out, let me think on it but let’s just see if we can help you short term, see if it makes you feel any better right now.”
Jim’s heart rate is coming down as Billy moves to remove his other boot, but he can’t stop himself saying “and Billy, please, please promise me you won’t go to the Crown, you know, you know why I didn’t want you to, don’t want you to go.”
Billy nods again “yeah Hop, I know,” and he sounds exhausted already, Jim thinks maybe the run won’t be so long. He feels such a strong need for reassurance, for confirmation that this kid, who’s wriggled past his defences and taken up another little section of his heart, will not go and put himself in danger that he pushes one last time “Billy, look at me please,” and Billy does, his still watery blues locking onto him “promise?”
Billy nods “promise.”
#billy hargrove#jim hopper#jim is billy’s new dad it’s literally stuck in my brain#dad jim hopper#stranger things#strangerthings#fic#angst#please heed the cws#writing#eddie munson#steve harrington#harringroveson#harringrove#mungrove
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Heyo! Welcome to this silly lil ask blog!
Hello! I'm Stargazer. I go by a couple names but any variation on Stargazer or Creature is good. My pronouns are She/they
My main is @stargazer0001!! Go check me out :3
More under the cut
WARNING!! THIS AU INVOLVES MULTIPLE SHIPS!! IF THATS NOT YOUR VIBE THEN LEAVE NOW!!!!!!
You can ask about the AU here! Unravel the secrets of their pasts and find out what the hell happened. Please only ask about the AU, any other asks can be asked to my main. I WILL delete any unrelated asks.
The 'Upon the Void' AU is a rainworld AU that focuses on the slugcats and iterators. Everyone has skeletons in their closets, and they are no exception. They find comfort in one another yet it appears that some may not have the best relations with each other. Find out more as you ask them about their pasts and lives, some will be more open than others, and some are... rather defensive.
Now you may ask, "Who is family? Who are in relationships? Who are friends? Enemies?"
For now, I will only have family and partners (QPP included), it will slowly updated as you all learn more
Monk+Survivor+Hunter - Siblings
Monk+Survivor+Hunter+Gourmand - adoptive kids/parent
Enot+Nightcat+Saint - Siblings
Enot+Nightcat+Saint+T̵̢̢͍̜͔͙͓̗̤̟̺͙̺͊̊́̇̽͆͜͝͠ḧ̸̢̳̘̹͙͈̹̣̬͕́̀̃̈́̉̉̃́͛̕̕͜ȩ̷̛̛̦̹̿̀̈́̽̽͐́͝ ̶̨̝̞̫̰̑̂́̚͝J̴̥̙͊̓͊̈̂̍̓͒͗̍͆͛̚͠u̵͙̲͗̋̅͋̇̈͊̋̓̕d̴̡̰̬͈̠̘̝̯͔̠̮͎̈́͑̅̇͛͂g̸͇͇̣͍̻̭̘̦̗̙̞̈́̇̓̃̄͆́̔̎͠ė̸̡̠͍̰̫͔͜= Kids/Parent
Artificer+Hunter - Lovers/married
Spearmaster + Rivulet + Nightcat - Lovers/dating
Monk+Enot - QPP (Queer Platonic Partners)
LttM+NSH - Romantic partners
Lttm+SRS - Romantic partners
SRS+NSH - QPP
"Who can we ask?"
Currently, all the slugcats are open to asks. This includes: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Artificer, Gourmand, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint, Enot, Nightcat. Although soon you will be able to ask the iterators, they are not wanting to talk right now.
"What are the designs?"
Right here!
Survivor
Monk
Hunter
Artificer
Gourmand
Rivulet (Just realized I forgor to blend the tail noooo)
Spearmaster
Saint
Enot (Their color is meant to be messy.)
Nightcat
The tags are:
For text based asks: Text ask
For asks with drawings: draw ask
For non asks: Not an ask
Every single one will be tagged with: Upon the void, Upon the void rw au, and rw au
For out of character asks: Ooc
#upon the void#upon the void rw au#rw au#rainworld#rain world#rainworld downpour#rain world downpour#ooc
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Intimidation Tactics / Chapter 2
Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!Reader x Dave York
Rating: T (for now???)
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: Mention of previous abusive relationship, enemies to lovers with a splash of idiots to lovers, minor peril,
Summary: A dark gray Honda Accord is tailing you.
A/N: Can these three just fuck already? No? I have to write an action sequence first??
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Chapter Two - Gray Honda Accord
It takes you a few days to detect it.
A dark gray Honda Accord is tailing you.
In your defense, it’s both a common and a nondescript car. No one takes notice of a Honda Accord. How many of them pass you by on the street on the short walk from the FBI office to your apartment every day? This particular Honda Accord has no unique identifying characteristics, nothing to suggest you haven’t simply seen a series of different gray Honda Accords in the span of several days. It wouldn’t have been unusual if you had, after all. It’s a common car.
The thing that alerts you to its presence is that it isn’t just driving by you on the crowded streets of D.C. You often see it standing still–in an alleyway, outside of the convenience store a block from your home, parked on the street as you cross Pennsylvania Avenue on your way to work…
…In front of your building at one in the morning.
It had started a week or so after your second interview with Danilson. The man had seemed shocked to see you and your partner knocking on his door again–almost suspiciously so, although you still can’t pin anything on him, and, the last time you checked, being surprised wasn’t a crime.
The case is still a dead-end, no matter how many late nights you spend with Marcus in a conference room, details of the case spread out before you on the table. One small breakthrough does finally come when you subpoena Danilson’s email history.
“Hang on,” you mumble, scanning the long list of subject lines and recipients. “This domain name–’Quantum Holdings’–where have I heard that name before?”
Marcus looks up from his laptop. “Quantum Holdings–isn’t that the business Buchanan’s brother-in-law worked for?”
You laugh disbelievingly. “How do you keep track of all this information in your head?” you ask him playfully.
Marcus shoots you a sheepish grin, and you feel your cheeks heating. Ever since your run-in with Dave York, you’ve not been able to hold eye contact with your partner for long. Surely he knows–knows what Dave had meant in his evaluation of you. What you really want is right in front of you, because it’s your partner. Marcus. He has to know… right?
“I write stuff down, it sticks in my head forever,” Marcus says, tapping his field notebook, that you know is filled with his messy scrawling of notes, each line clearly written with haste as he quickly captures his observations, theories, witness statements, and, occasionally, a grocery list.
“I’m going to start looking into them,” you announce. “Quantum Holdings. First Buchanan’s brother-in-law–”
“Dylan,” Marcus supplies.
“Dylan,” you repeat, “and now Danilson’s inbox. There’s been no indication that the two of them had known each other, right?”
“Not as of yet,” Marcus says, frowning down at his notes.
“I don’t like it,” you say, snapping your laptop shut. “There’s something going on with them. What the hell do they do anyway?”
The Honda Accord sightings start shortly afterward. It isn’t until you peer out of your blinds at the sound of a car alarm and see it right in front of your building that you tell Marcus.
“I need to talk to you,” you tell him the next morning at FBI Headquarters. “Not here, though. Can we go grab a coffee or something?”
Marcus’s eyes go wide, his lips parting with surprise. “Oh,” he breathes. “Yeah, of course.”
It isn’t until the two of you have your lattes in hand that you finally get up the courage to speak.
“I think I’m being followed,” you say under your breath as you take a seat in the loud, crowded cafe.
Marcus blanches–whatever he had thought you were going to say, it had clearly not been that.
“What?” he whispers quietly. “Are you sure?”
“There’s this gray Honda,” you murmur, taking a sip of coffee so that it looks like the two of you are having a pleasant, casual conversation rather than the tense discussion that’s truly happening. “I see it everywhere. By the office, on the way home…” you press your lips together. “...right in front of my apartment in the middle of the night.”
“Shit,” Marcus mutters gravely. “Oh, shit.”
“It happened right after I started looking into… the thing I was looking into,” you say, suddenly feeling like uttering the name of the business itself would conjure up the car. “I don’t know what to do,” you whisper.
“Maybe it’s a coincidence,” Marcus says weakly. “What kind of car does your–um–”
“It’s not him,” you say automatically. “My ex. I just–I just have this feeling that it’s about the case. I can’t explain it.”
“I trust your intuition,” Marcus offers quietly. “You didn’t get this far without having good instincts.”
You allow yourself a few moments to bask under his soft praise.
“I’m going to start driving you home,” Marcus says, with a finality in his voice that causes you not to argue the point. “And if I’m not around, the moment you see that car again, you call me.”
You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah, will do.”
“Don’t go anywhere without this,” he adds, tapping the holster at your hip.
“I know,” you say, Marcus’s protectiveness starting to get on your nerves. “I know how to be a good Agent, Dad.”
Your partner laughs softly. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You know we watch out for each other, right?”
You can’t help the smile that breaks out across your face. “I know.”
—
As promised, Marcus drives you home that night. He waits in the car until the door to your building clicks shut, gives you a serious nod, and drives off. You don’t remember seeing the gray Honda on your way, and you’re starting to second-guess yourself.
It’s a common car, after all.
You microwave some dinner and sit down with some wine to watch some guilty-pleasure TV to take your mind off of the case, and off of Marcus, who has been on your mind more and more after that asshole of a DIA Agent aired your little secret. Nothing has changed between the two of you, but you can’t deny that there’s a tension there that wasn’t there before. You occasionally catch Marcus looking away when you glance in his direction. Oh, God. That’s all you need. A partner who secretly pities you and your situation.
After an hour of ‘America’s Got Talent,’ you turn off the TV, getting to your feet and stretching. Your eyes flit over to the shuttered window and back almost of their own volition. You don’t want to check. You also really fucking do want to check. You turn off the lamp as well, bathing the room in darkness as if you were simply going to bed. Then, you creep toward the window. Taking care not to disturb the blinds, you peek through one of the narrow slats at the street.
You feel a stab of fear when you see the familiar shape of the car.
Heart pounding, you back slowly away from the window, debating your next move. You had promised Marcus that you’d call him. Numbly, you pick up your phone and dial his number. It barely has a chance to ring before he picks up.
“Hey,” Marcus says by way of greeting. “Are you all right?”
“It’s here,” you tell him. “Outside my apartment again.”
Marcus hisses a curse under his breath. “Shit. Do you see anyone in it?”
“Too dark,” you say. “Do you… do you think it’s that guy from the park?”
“Maybe,” Marcus concedes. “It could be. Listen, I’m going to come over and–”
“No!” you interject. “No, because what if they start tailing you, too? You still haven’t seen anyone following you, right?”
“Not yet,” Marcus answers. “But look, it’s not safe, I–”
“It’s fine, I can take care of myself,” you tell him. “I just wanted to make you aware of what’s happening. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
Marcus murmurs your name, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of it. “Be safe,” he says softly.
“I will,” you whisper back, before ending the call.
You don’t sleep that night.
—
The next morning, you arrive at Headquarters with heavy bags under your eyes. Marcus gives you a sympathetic look and the second to-go cup of coffee he’s carrying.
“Thought you might need that,” he says with a wan smile. “I definitely do.”
It’s then that you notice that Marcus looks almost as tired as you.
“Didn’t you sleep?” you ask, incredulous.
“How am I supposed to sleep when I’m waiting for another call from you?” he responds pointedly. “I don’t care what you say, from now on, we stick together on this.”
You’re too tired to argue, and you’re more than a little relieved. He’s right, this is far too much to carry on your own. The two of you spend the day digging through public records for more information on Quantum Holdings, looking for connections to the original art theft the two of you were supposed to be investigating. The only problem is, there’s nothing.
“It’s a shell corporation,” you say emphatically. “It has to be. I mean, they have a website, and they own several domains, but they don’t do anything.”
“I think you’re right,” Marcus agrees. “The only question is, what are they hiding? I mean, maybe it’s something as simple as tax evasion, but then why do they keep coming up in relation to an art theft?”
“The domains all have IP addresses that indicate they’re based overseas,” you tell him. “Whatever it’s a front for, it’s not local.”
The two of you are silent for a while, both poring over the details of the case. You start from the beginning in your head again: There’s a missing Warhol from a gallery in New York. The evidence points to a regular offender, Curtis Buchanan, who had already done time a decade or so ago for black market art deals. Nothing your team had thrown at Buchanan stuck. He had a solid alibi and an excellent lawyer, and no matter how much digging you did around the man, the only thing that had come up was this ‘Quantum Holdings,’ which is starting to look like a front for some sort of international operation.
“Is this a dead end?” you ask suddenly, causing Marcus to look up with a start. “Maybe we are digging into something we shouldn’t be.”
“I don’t know,” Marcus admits quietly. “I’m not so sure, anymore.”
That evening, Marcus drives you home again, but this time, he says, it’s a temporary condition. “Let’s go grab some of your stuff,” Marcus declares, “and you can come stay with me for a bit while we figure this out.” He parks illegally in front of the building and turns on the emergency lights. As the two of you exit the car, you look down the street behind you and let out a choked sound.
“Marcus,” you manage to gasp. “The car.”
Marcus spins, hand on his holster, to see a gray Honda Accord slowly rolling toward you. As the two of you take notice, the car picks up speed, and the two of you draw your pistols as it approaches–out of time to make it up the steps of your building.
The squealing of brakes is the only warning you get before another car–a black Range Rover with dark windows–comes to a halt beside you.
“Get in.”
You recognize the deep rasp to the owner of the Range Rover’s voice immediately, but the rapid glance in his direction confirms the identity of the driver as the same DIA Agent who had warned you in the park. Marcus hesitates, leveling his gun at the accelerating Honda.
“Don’t be a martyr, Agent Pike,” Dave York calls from the driver’s seat. “The two of you are in way over your head. Get in the fucking car.”
A gunshot rings out–from the opposite side of the street as the Honda, and you suddenly realize that it is not the only car converging on your position. Out of options, you and your partner scramble into the backseat of Dave’s car, and the door barely shuts before the man peels off.
—
“I thought I told you to stop digging,” Dave snarls, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel as he swerves around the crowded streets, dodging other cars as he tries to evade your attackers.
“I’m not in the habit of taking orders,” Marucs snaps, and Dave growls something in response, too quiet to hear over the squeal of the tires and the roar of the engine, but it sounds strangely like "Pity."
“Who are you,” you demand. “Tell us what’s going on.”
“David James York, Operative with the Defense Intelligence Agency,” Dave drawls from the front seat. “Born October twenty-seventh, nineteen–”
“Shut up,” Marcus interrupts. “We deserve to know what’s happening.”
“That’s above your security clearance,” Dave deadpans. He glances in the rear-view window, and whatever he sees causes him to clench his jaw and swerve through a red light onto a side street.
“Jesus!” you hiss as you’re thrown against the window.
“Seatbelts,” Dave says in a singsong voice.
“Where are you taking us?” Marcus asks, his tone getting more and more furious.
“Safe house in upstate New York,” Dave answers. “You two really have no idea what you’re sticking your noses into.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you squeak. “That’s like, an eight-hour drive.”
“I can give you my auxiliary cord,” Dave says mockingly. “Agent Pike here looks like he knows some good podcasts.”
When he’s greeted with two twin glares from the backseat, Dave smirks. “Good. Now shut up and let me escape from this fucking mess that you two created.”
—
After a while, Dave goes from bat out of hell to simply speeding as he loses the gray Honda and the rest of your assailants. The streets move from urban, to suburban, and finally to rural as he leaves Washington, D.C. and heads north.
Marcus is silently fuming beside you, Dave is seemingly focused on the road ahead, and none of you have spoken a single word in over an hour.
Finally, you break the silence. "Why are you helping us?" you ask Dave quietly.
Dave snorts. "Helping you? I'm the investigator on the Quantum case for the DIA, and suddenly I find out two little art detectives are digging themselves into a deeper and deeper hole. Someone stole a Picasso-"
("Warhol," grumbles Marcus.)
"-and now I have two FBI agents not only impeding a year-long investigation, but getting themselves a little tail as well. You have no idea how close you were to being abducted and taken out of the country," Dave says. "And once that happened, there was no chance at getting either of you back."
You and Marcus are silent as you absorb the information.
"Thanks, Dave, appreciate it, Dave. Thanks for sticking your neck out and getting shot at while we tried to take down a terrorist cell with two handguns, Dave," Dave quips facetiously from the driver’s seat.
"Why, then?" Marcus asks, maintaining his stony expression. "Why stick your neck out?"
Dave purses his lips. "I am, by all accounts, not a good man. But I like to think I'm not an evil one. Maybe ten years ago I would have done nothing, and you two would have been unfortunate casualties of a war you had no conception of, but I made a different choice."
"What changed?" Marcus prompts, arching his eyebrows suspiciously.
Dave smirks. "Do you have children, Agent Pike?"
"Figured you already know the answer to that," Marcus mutters, "considering you seem to know everything else."
"Oh, I do," Dave says lightly. "Just proving a point."
The three of you refrain from speaking for the remaining seven hours.
—
It's dark when the Range Rover finally pulls into a well-hidden gravel driveway high in the Catskills. There are no outside lights, and you can barely make out the outline of a small cabin against the trees in the moonlight.
Dave cuts the engine and opens his door without comment. You and Marcus follow suit, exiting the car in silence, the only sound the crunch of gravel under your feet as you approach the house.
When Dave flicks on the hallway light, you're pleasantly surprised at the warm, cozily decorated interior.
"There are two bedrooms," Dave gravels, not stopping to show either of you around. "You can share, or fight amongst yourselves for the bed, it makes no difference to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I just made an eight-hour drive that began with a car chase through downtown D.C., and I'm fucking tired."
With that, Dave disappears inside what you assume is the other bedroom and snaps the door shut, leaving you and Marcus alone in the quiet living room.
#marcus pike#dave york#marcus pike x reader x dave york#marcus pike x you x dave york#marcus pike x dave york#marcus pike x reader#dave york x reader#pedro pascal
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" Pizza sounds so good right now, but bloody hell, I'm way too fucked right now. "
It was typically around this time when Hobie would return home from a long day of being your friendly neighborhood Spider-Punk while still making it in time for rehearsal with his band. It wasn't easy balancing keeping the multiverse in balance while also living a normal life; at least not on your own. Fortunately for him, he always had a welcoming face to return to after a rough day. Coming back to a house where everything was cleaned, food was being prepped, the bed was made, and a shower waiting for him. He never asked for these things to happen, it was a complete shock to him the first time.
" Nyx, you up–? "
He stopped in his tracks after seeing his newfound roommate tidying up the living room table.
" Hobie! Welcome back! "
Nyx practically leaped out of joy at the sound of his voice, turning their head to face him so fast they probably nearly snapped their neck. Hobie stared in utter astonishment at the complete rearrangement of his living space. Not that it was terribly messy in the first place (it was), but with how they cleaned it you could easily use any surface as a mirror.
" Er… What's all this then? Wasn't feeling my vibe so you got rid of it all? " He teased. Nyx still wasn't very good at detecting his sarcastic tones and was quick to explain themself. " No, no! I didn't move any of your things I just thought I'd– " He puts his hands up in defense. " Just messin with ya, love. "
" Oh… " Their face quickly heated up from embarrassment. They were moments away from apologizing and he knew it was coming. It was a habit of theirs they had promised to work on with him. He's quick to stop them, however, wrapping an arm around their shoulder and giving them a quick side hug. " 's this what you've been up to while I was gone? Been busy, yeah? "
" Yeah, actually! " They turn on their heels and move towards the kitchen, " I cleaned your room too, but I also made sure all your things were in similar spots! " He's quick to follow them, a lazy smile on his face as he listens to their little adventure. " I organized everything in here and I also got you some pizza! I, uh… didn't know when you'd be back so it might be a little cold, but now I know to order it later! "
Their list seemed to go on forever. They cleaned the living room, his room, the kitchen, the bathroom, prepared him a meal, went shopping in the sun– which they are literally deathly allergic to –to meal prep for the rest of the week all without asking to. It was a little overwhelming but was clearly done with good intentions. Still, he couldn't help but think they were forced to take care of his place since he was gone most of the time. It was honestly like he was living a married life back in the late 1900's, a bit surreal and not something he was into.
" Oi, Nyx. What'd you do all this for? You're not my housekeeper, yeah? 'sides, shouldn't you be resting that pretty little face of yours? I don't recall your week of healing being over yet? "
Ouch. None of his words were meant to come across as mean or scolding, yet they somehow took it that way. Even with the half-serious half-teasing look on his face they managed to take him far too seriously. They were quick to quiet down and shy up, looking at their hands as they gave an explanation. " I know, I know… but it's not fair having you do all these things for me and giving nothing in return. "
" All these things? What, let you crash at my place? Thought I told you it wasn't a big deal. "
" It's more than that! You gave me my freedom… "
An uncomfortable silence filled the room. It was a little bit of an embarrassing and dramatic thing to respond with, but it was the truth for Nyx. Had it not been for him, they would've still been living their life held captive and treated like a labrat; like a freak.
" I don't think there's anything I could do for you that will ever pay you back for what you've done for me, so I want to do everything I possibly can. It's the least I could do. "
He continued to let them do their thing. As long as they didn't feel forced to do it and were happy to, who was he to stop them? Besides, it was a nice change coming home to someone greeting you with a warm smile. Really took the shittiest of days and turned them around.
Upon reaching his doorstep, he paused to listen around him. He knew he could hear music as he got closer but quickly assumed it was a neighbor. Once he stood in front of the door to his flat though, it was obvious it was coming from there instead. He presses his ear against the door to try and catch what they were listening to. The words were still a bit unintelligible but he could've sworn he heard… a saxophone? A very familiar saxophone tune as a matter of fact.
Was that… Careless Whisper?
" HA! That's romantic, innit? What's the little raven planning this time? "
It was a bit silly to him. Careless Whisper? He never really knew what their taste in music was as they were never seen listening to it, but this wasn't exactly what he was expecting. He pulls his keys from within his pocket and unlocks the door as quietly as one could, easing it open and peering inside. Surely enough, there they were. Standing by the living room table, Nyx was completely immersed in the infamous song, not even noticing Hobie walk in, shut and lock the door, and wait patiently for them to realize he was there.
They were so immersed in the song, in fact, that they found themselves humming along and singing along to the words. They twirled around and stepped side-to-side to the beat, completely tuning out anything around them.
It was clear to him they weren't going to notice his presence anytime soon. He took one big step closer to them, tilting his head to look at them. Once that didn't seem to work, he took another step, and another, until he was right behind them. He leans over to speak into their ear, " 'Ey? Song so good you can't give me a proper greeting? " He obviously teased.
Nyx was quick to turn to him. The biggest smile overtook their face upon seeing him. That's what he was looking for. That smile that easily brightened his day and took away his worries.
They didn't even say a word, they just held out their hands for him; hoping he'd catch on and grab them. He caught on quick, taking their softer hands into his rough ones, and pulling them into his embrace. It caught them off guard for just a second before they were a giggling mess. They pressed the side of their face into his chest and continued stepping to the music, Hobie following their lead. It wasn't long before the song reached its end. Nyx gave him a quick squeeze before pulling away from his grasp to turn off the speaker.
" Enjoyin' yourself? "
They nod excitedly. " How was your day, babe? Did everything go okay? " He playfully rolls his eyes at their questions. His hand runs through their hair to catch a quick glimpse of their eyes before moving to gently squeeze their face. " Look at you, always quick to change the subject to me, yeah? How come I never get to hear about your day? " They grow flustered at his questions. " Oh, uh… I uhm… " Their failed attempt at finding words to construct their response caused him to erupt into laughter. " Aren't you just the cutest? C'mere. "
He leans down once more to their height to plant several kisses to their lips, holding their face in both of his hands. He gives them one last kiss, longer than the rest, before pulling away and wrapping an arm around their shoulder. He drags them alongside him as he walks towards their shared room,
" 'm thinkin we sleep in tomorrow. You joining me for a shower before bed? "
" Eh? Oh but I wanted to make you something to eat first, can't sleep on an enpty stomach… "
" … 'suppose I can stay up to eat. "
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✿DAD MATERIAL✿
—✿
Summary: you and Jacob babysit your friends' menacing kids, and brand-new baby boy
Warnings: cursing, maybe a few sexual innuendos but it’s just really cute
Author’s Note: I have been waiting for him guys. I’m thinking of starting a fluff series for him, just for the hell of it. It probably will be a part of the series if I make one.
—✿
"WHAT?" YOU ASKED, SMILING UP AT JACOB, WHO HAD BEEN STARING AT YOU FOR A FEW MINUTES NOW. He didn't say anything in response, just began to chuckle softly.
"What?" You asked again, now laughing yourself. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
He didn't know why he couldn't stop laughing. Something about the mix of feelings he was having that night. From the glittery pink make-up on his face, to his messy hair from being maimed and pulled at most of the night, and now watching as you snuggled your godson close to you tired body, adorned in one of his much too large for you hoodies. Just something about looking at you made him feel warm, and full. Like this was it, this was right where he was meant to be.
"You just, you look like a natural." He spoke softly, smiling down at the infant in your arms. You smiled, glancing at the baby boy before looking back at Jacob.
"Yeah well, you were for sure a natural in that salon chair earlier. I think you made Addy's entire year by letting her do your make-up." You teased back, referring to his pink face of make-up. This wasn't the first time you were babysitting for your friend. You and Jacob had been her go-to sitters ever since her oldest, Mason was born. He was about as old as your relationship with Jacob, Mason being only 2 when Jacob became your boyfriend. Now there were three of them, and though you've held the others as babies before, this was your first time watching a kid who wasn't even a year old. But you and Jacob got through it. You would bottle feed the baby while Jacob played video games with Mason, sitting on the floor in front of Adeline who would do his hair.
Both Mason and Addy were asleep now, and you and Jacob were sitting on the small loveseat couch in the nursery, trying to get the four-month-old infant to go to sleep as well.
But yet, Jacob couldn't stop staring. The way you held Levi, so confidently. You looked like it was what you were meant to do, like you were meant to nurture and care for people as fragile as babies. He'd be lying however if he said the baby didn't frighten him. He was so small and looked so fragile. It freaked Jacob out that his hand was bigger than the baby's head. Was that normal, or were his hands just freakishly large? And if his hands were just large, what if he'd underestimated their size, and managed to hurt Levi somehow?
"Why do you look like that?" You asked. He raised his eyebrows, playing dumb.
"Like what?"
You raised an eyebrow, following his nervous gaze to the baby before meeting eyes with him.
"Well, you're looking at the baby like he has three heads."
"No-no I'm not." He stuttered, trying not to look at Levi. He folded his arms, shaking his head.
"Oh my god..." you began, making him point out a finger, shaking his head.
"No." He countered.
"Jacob..." You tilted your head teasingly, and Jacob shook his head harder.
"No, stop, shut up." He pouted like a child, knowing he had been caught.
"You're scared of the baby!" You yelled; Jacob's face practically red with embarrassment. He yelled back.
"No I'm not!"
"That's too precious." It was actually extremely adorable. How someone as bug as Jacob was, to be afraid of something so tiny.
"I'm not scared of him!" He shouted back in defense, rolling his eyes at you mocking pout.
"It's okay to be nervous around him.." he shook his head, interrupting you.
"It's not even that."
"Then what is it?" He sighed, giving in. He glanced at Levi, then looked into your eyes with a sad sort of puppy dog gaze.
"What if I hurt him? Like what if I crush him with my abnormally large hands?" He rambled nervously; a blush now prominent on his cheeks. You began laughing loudly.
"It's not funny." he chuckled. "Stop laughing at me, I'm serious." He whined, trying not to laugh himself.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just adorable." You spoke between laughs, making him scoff. He puffed up his chest.
"I'm not adorable. I'm a man." He said, clearing his throat while straightening his posture. You playfully rolled your eyes.
"It's pretty adorable." You countered, still laughing, making him roll his eyes in return.
"Here, why don't you hold him." He widened his eyes.
"No, no love, I can't." He panicked backing up in his spot as you carefully moved the baby closer. You sighed, before moving behind him.
"Come on, I'll help you." You reassured, to which he gave you a nervous look. Such a big baby. "You won't hurt him, I promise."
You gently lay the baby in his arms, which immediately cradle the small baby. His hands were bigger than his head. Levi seemed to like the perfectly fit head spot Jacob's hand provided.
"That's it, there you go." You spoke, softly to not disturb the bay. He needed the reassurance and took careful strides. He barely moved, afraid of what might happen, until Levi let out a small gurgle, shifting peacefully in Jacob's arms.
The aura in the room shifted, becoming calm as Levi snuggled into Jacob's arms. He shifted the slightest bit, then smiled up at Jacob, making you ad Jacob smile back widely.
"Would you look at that." you whispered, reaching a hand to softly brush against Levi's cheek. "Someone's happy to be with their uncle Jacob." You rest your hand on Jacob's shoulder, squeezing it gently.
"Look at that smile." He said, as you rested your cheek on Jacob's shoulder. he leaned his head on yours.
"He's a cutie."
"Tell Sam this is her cutest baby yet." Jacob joked. You turned to her the oft laughter of your friend, Sam behind you.
"You said the same thing about Addy."
"Don't tell her i said that." Jacob joked, making you and Sam laugh. You got up from the couch, going to greet your friend.
"Both of the tots are asleep." She glanced at Levi, still being cradled by Jacob. "Technically all tots are asleep."
"It seems Levi's got the best spot in the house." You laughed, both of you watching as Jacob rocked Levi carefully, lulling the baby to sleep. For someone who was afraid to hold a baby, he sure was a natural.
"He's a natural y/n." Sam said softly. You couldn't help but smile, your heart warming up when Jacob kissed Levi's head softly.
"Yeah."
"Real dad-material you got right there. You better make some babies before he takes mine." She joked, making you chuckle. You shook your head.
"You know we haven't really talked about it yet. But I could see him as a dad."
And the more you thought about it, the more you stared at Jacob holding Levi carefully in his arms, the more you melted at the thought of him holding your own baby. Jacob turned, smiling at you before looking back at Levi. It felt right. And somehow you had the feeling that you two would be back in this scene again, him holding a baby like they were the whole world. And a soft smile adorned you face, because you knew that was all you'd ever want.
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Carnation
Yuta x Fem!reader
Warnings: period sex, lots of blood mentions, yandere undertones for Yuuta, TW.Dubcon if you squint I just want to be safe lol, unprotected sex, smut
Got super carried away with this one which is why it’s so long lol. I decided to combine the asks since I have got a lot for Yuta. Second anon if you’re uncomfortable with this fic which is understandable lol just shoot me another ask and I can do something else for you.
You lay curled in your bed, the sheets and pillows a mess around you, a fluffy hot water bottle cradled tightly to your front. The side of your body you laid on was beginning to ache from pressure, and you felt flush from heat, but you dared not move. You dreaded the intensifying of the stabbing pains your own body was wretchedly subjecting you to. Of course today would be the heaviest of your period, the day you had scheduled for a study session with Yuta. He was due to come over in about half an hour, and your pains were yet to ease up at all, despite the painkillers you had recently downed. You could cancel, yet, this was the first ever study session you had set up with your handsome friend, and you were loath to cancel it over something that would clear itself up eventually.
You closed your eyes, and pulled the hot water bottle you gripped like a lifeline closer to the source of your suffering.
~~~
*knock knock*
Fuuuuck. Was it that time already? You groggily sat up, releasing your water bottle and in replacement lightly pressing your hand against the throbbing pain that was starting to surge more strongly in the pit of your belly. You gently placed your feet on the ground off the side of your bed, and rose onto the balls of them just as delicately. You began your gloomy shuffle towards the entrance of your room, fixing your ruffled hair into place.
You pulled the door open on yourself slowly, croaking as Yuta’s tired but docile face materialised into view.
“Good evening, (Name)-chan.” Yuta had his hands in his pockets and wore a kindly smile, the only thing betraying his pleasant demeanour being those familiar dark circles dusking the underside of his eyes. Dreary though they appeared, you could swear you saw a specular shimmer dance across his irises when he registered your form.
“Ah good evening to you too, Yuta! Come in and make yourself at home, I have some stuff set up on the coffee table.” You tried your best to look as perfectly in humour as you could, to not draw any attention to your current pain stricken condition. Must have been good enough, as Yuta had nodded in response and was now making his way over to nestle himself onto one of the pillows you had placed next to your make-shift study station.
You yourself was headed to the kitchenette, about to ask what Yuta wanted to drink when a sharp stab erupted from your core. You threw your hand onto a countertop and visibly winced, when you noticed Yuta’s widened eyes had been following you.
“(Name)! Are you okay?!” Yuta’s expression was alarmed, prepared to pounce up from his seating.
“Uh- I er uh- tripped over! Nothing to worry about!” You were blushing slightly, but righted yourself regardless and tried to stand as straight as you could. Yuta seemed slightly confused, and whilst he opened his mouth to speak you interrupted him with a casual “So what would you like to drink?”
“Er.. I’m fine actually, I had something before I left home... actually I think you should come sit down, er, carefully.” He still looked a little concerned. You nodded your head and made your way over to his side. Settling yourself down, you could feel more pain pulsating within you, a low rumble threatening another great stab like you had experienced just. You drew your legs to your chest in an attempt to alleviate it slightly, and picked up your copy of “a comprehensive guide to the relation of curses and the law”; holding it open in front of you.
You could feel Yuta’s gaze still trained on you.
~~~
“So, although the police would have to intervene if someone was hurt or killed in the incident, sorcerers still have the right to- er - (Name)?”
Crap. You were too focused on the waves of torture oscillating in your guts to keep your attention on Yuta explaining the info that went over your head in class to you again. And he noticed. You looked up at him softly, and offered a subdued “sorry.” You didn’t really have energy to maintain your act of being fine anymore. His eyes looked concerned. You turned your head to the floor and fiddled with your hands.
“Hey, (Name).” You heard him shift and alter the positioning of his legs. “Is it that time of the month?”
What?! Who asks that like this?!
You threw your head back up to look at him, your face red and mouth agape. He threw his hands up defensively.
“Sorry, sorry!” He hurriedly turned his gaze into the distance and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just.. I have a little sister, so I’m used to this sort of thing, or at least I know a bit more about it than other guys.” He looked back to you. “It seems like the pains at least are distracting you from your studies, if you need painkillers or something.. I can go get them for you.”
“I er...I already tried that… doesn’t work out that well for me.” Was your meek, barely audible reply. You played with the tassel of the pillow you were sat on. Yuta looked pained on your behalf.
“Y’know… I read online somewhere that there’s always something you can try out failing all else.” He caught your gaze, and held it intently.
It must be too good to be true, how would Yuta know some hidden method that you (as someone who experienced periods) didn’t know about for dealing with the pains?! Your eager look betrayed itself when a switch flicked in your head and your expression turned into one of astonishment. There’s no way he’s gonna suggest…
“Org*sms.”
You’d known Yuta for awhile now, but you had no idea just how… artless he was. Where was his tact?! Your cheeks burned from embarrassment. You felt like your face was about to explode.
Looking at him though, he was practically unfazed! As if you were going about some matter-of-a-fact order of business. What was this situation!
“I-is.. that a joke Yuta?” Your hands were curling into tight balls.
“Of course not, (Name). You look like you’re in so much pain. I just want to help alleviate it.”
What the hell did he mean by that? Like you will just hop up right now and go jerk yourself in the bathroom as casually as using the toilet.. Or.. could he have meant..
You felt Yuta’s hand settle on your thigh, as he leant down further towards you. “I can help you out (Name)-chan.”
You couldn’t deny, you’d always found Yuta handsome, but for things to move along this quickly… and of all times! Surely his level of straight-forwardness defied all social conventions, and yet, it was working. The feel of his hand resting on you, his hungry stare, the way he loomed over you, chest rising and falling intently. You could feel a different kind of ache emanating from your lower parts.
His hand drifted further up your body, coming to stop just below your belly button. “I want to help you… (Name)-chan.” You looked into his dark eyes. They were intense, hungry. You could swear he was salivating.
“B-but Yuta.. I-I’m.. You know! Isn’t that.. Gross? For you?” He shot you a sheepish grin, hiding his eyes in an evasive fashion. His hand travelled downwards once more, snaking up the inside of your loose-fitting shorts and looping his fingers over the sides of your panties. He toyed with them, rolling the cloth over your skin and lightly pulling at them. “I don’t think any part of you is gross, (Name)-chan.” His eyes flicked open again, drawing you back into his intensity. “I think every part of you is beautiful, even.” You could sense his earnestness, and it made your cheeks burn. You went to throw your hands up to them, but he quickly caught them in his. “So, what’s your answer?” He planted a kiss in your palm. “Do you want my help? (Name)-chan.”
Fuck.. the way he looked at you. Those ferocious, hooded eyes. Those calloused hands, usually wrapped around a katana, wrapped around yours right now. The burning you felt between your legs. God yes. God, you wanted it.
The alleviation of pain (and studying) was an afterthought.
~~~
Yuta had returned back to your living space with a towel from the bathroom. What? you didn’t want to get the floor messy. You could see an erection straining tightly against his black pants.
Fuck, you were really gonna do this. He set it down flat on the floor, and invited you to come situate yourself on it.
~~~
After removing his shirt (It was white, after all), Yuta knelt himself down in front of you. He had a certain glint in his eyes, almost conflicting the harmless smile that he also wore, as if he wasn’t about to blissfully pound your bloody c*nt into oblivion. He undid the front buckle of his pants, a bulge emerging, the explicitness of his bare dick concealed by gray underwear. He began palming at the protuberance. You eyed the display curiously, when you had a sudden realisation.
“Y-Yuta, w-what about… protection?” you asked, uneasily.
“Hm? (Name)-chan, you’re on your period, remember? You won’t get pregnant.”
“B-but..”
He cut you off. “I don’t have anything. Trust me.”
You nodded and grunted in acknowledgement. Yuta was always a trustworthy figure for you. Your strong, reliable friend who you could always depend on. He always took care of you, even during skirmishes with curses, arriving at your side before things even had the chance to get particularly hairy.
You watch Yuta as he tilts his keeling body forward, his hands landing on your ankles before travelling upwards, spreading your legs open in the process. You feel yourself blushing once again, tossing your head to the side. You can feel the front of your damp p*nties being touched, jumping in slight surprise at the abrupt action before Yuta starts rubbing at your cl*t through the fabric. He notices your breathing falter.
“Do you like it, (Name)-chan? Do you like how it feels when I rub you there?”
You mumble a small “yes.”
He’s applying more pressure to his administrations now. “Do you want me to take your p*nties off? So I can touch you properly?”
You answer yes again, this time more hastily.
With that, he curls his fingers over the sides of your p*nties, dragging your legs into the air as he twists his body appropriately in order to shimmy the restrictive fabric off of you. He casts them to the side, before pulling your trembling limbs back into their previous position. Once he settled them back down, he kept his hands on your thighs as he drank in the glory of your exposed c*nt quivering before him, the string of your tampon peaking out in a taunting manner.
You heard him cooing at you quietly. “Beautiful.”
You cringed, wondering if he’d still be thinking that when he’s stained with blood. Even so, you couldn’t help but melt under the feeling of his fingertips tracing circles into your inner thighs. The way you felt a thumb flick over your n*ked sex.
“Is your stomach still hurting you?” The sudden question snapped you out of your stupor.
Truth be told, you’d almost completely forgotten about your pains you were so caught up in the moment, but something held you back from saying so. As if Yuta would stop touching you if you let him know the “reason” for the two of you doing this was almost completely resolved. And, you were relishing in the tenderness of his comforting too much for it to stop.
“Y-Yes..”
Yuta bent further over you, his head looming over your core. He sunk down, his face leaning into the space of your skin where your tummy and pelvis met. He planted a light kiss there.
“Well, I’m gonna make you feel better.”
His grip on your thighs tightened as his head lifted, his presence shadowing over you once again as he held himself higher. Your heart pounded. He leaned further on your left thigh and removed his hand from the other, as you felt fingers poking at your aching heat again.
Could you feel… pulling?
You felt a horrible, obscene slick escape you suddenly when Yuta yanked out your tampon. He pinched it limply in fingers, observing it slightly before placing it on the towel you shared.
“Yuta?!” You whelped. It was ironic. The two of you were sharing an intimate moment with each other, almost completely exposed. But this? It felt somewhat... invasive.
You could sense Yuta shrugging. “It needed to come out.” Before you even had a chance to respond, you could feel him caressing your folds. He was circling his thumb over them, the peak of the eclipse swiping over your cl*t. “Don’t worry, (Name)-chan you look beautiful.”
You looked to him, but he didn’t return the gaze. His stare was boring into your most private parts, hungrily eating up the view. The calloused hand still wrapped around your leg was gripping on tightly, as you felt Yuta dip a finger into your sopping c*nt.
“Fuck.. it’s so.. wet.”
Well, that was a given you supposed. But you knew a lot of what was down there was also probably your usual feminine slick, with the way he was making you ache. He continued pumping his finger in and out, the motion becoming deeper and rougher, him gaining confidence in what you were willing to take in. You could feel your muscles strain around it.
“That’s three.”
“Wait, w-what?!”
“Three fingers, (Name)-chan. You’re drenched down here.” You felt him remove his digits, Spreading them out across your lips. You then felt him draw a line across your inner thighs that intersected your p*ssy in the middle. Was he… playing in it? You decided not to question, you were too caught up in a wanton haze, hips bucking upwards, begging for his touch to return to your most sensitive parts.
“Y-yuta..”
He looked at you and smiled sincerely. “-just need to make sure you’re nice and loose for me, (Name)-chan.” Before you could react, plunging fingers speared your weeping c*nt, pumping with violent pace. You yelped and crumpled in on yourself when you felt his fingers curl against your velvety walls, yielding against the pressure. You squirmed underneath him even more when he began spreading them, parting your insides. You hummed, laying your hand over the top of his head, entwining yourself in the strands of his hair.
He shifted into your touch. “God, love this. So fucking beautiful.”
He peered at you from beneath those dark lashes. “You think you’re ready?”
“Hm?”
“For my cock.”
At that, you nodded, releasing your grasp on his hair and trailing your hand down his chest as he straightened himself, looping his fingers over the sides of his boxers, staining it with blood. He tugged them down, his painfully erect dick springing out into open air. You found yourself surprised at the length. Yet, He was focused on you. Pointing at your top half he asked you, “Can you take all of this off?”
You nodded and complied hurriedly.
When you were done Yuta was quick, grabbing your knees to hold you in place, leaning over to plant yet another doting kiss on your body, This time in the space between your bare breasts. You felt him begin to push into you. He managed the entirety of his length, before pulling himself almost all the way out again. You noticed how he looked down, admiring the sheen of your blood now coating his member. He quickly snapped his hips back into you again, and began assuming a steady pace of rutting. Your legs found themselves wrapping around him, your ankles cross sectioning across his taught upper back. You wanted to tell him it felt good, but the most you could manage was a weak moan.
That seemed to set something off within him. He lunged over you, enveloping your entire body with his own. He planted one hand on the towel beneath you, firmly beside your head. The other found itself groping a t*t, clawing over it to pinch your hard nipple, surrounding the ar*ola with petals of red. His pace was raw and piercing, but the slight discomfort you felt was laced with a more intense pleasure.
You heard him groan. “-god.. You feel so good. Fucking you like this.. It’s just so.. primal.” He was lightly scraping his nails against you, tracing trails of scarlet down your body. You understood what he meant by that perfectly. The way he was looking down at you, almost slavering at the lips at your vulnerable form, like some wild animal lost in it’s lust.
The feeling of it, the sounds of it. It was also so expl*cit. Yet so gratifying.
You lost yourself, allowing Yuta to abuse your lower half as he pleased, even matching your hips to his punishing motions. The l*wd squelching noises as he fucked into your excessive wetness, the way he played with your sensitive nipple at the same time, your entire being yearning into his ministrations.
“I-I’ve always dreamt of this, (Name)-chan” You were too lost in a fucked out haze to really respond, humming lightly as you stroked the arm gripping your breast. His pace got even quicker then, rougher. His form that was already entirely draped over yours weighed down on you with even more pressure, the slap of his bucking hips against your buttox resounding loudly. It’s all too much, your legs weak when you cream his c*ck, a wave of release gushing out of you as your heat throbs wildly.
Your limbs go weak as you reel from the org*sm, your walls spasming around Yuta as he continued his bucking.
Yuta’s gaze rests on your dazed expression, his dark eyes settling over you. “You needed my c*ck didn't you?” He moves the hand that was on your bre*st to caress over your face. “Desperately. I know you did.”
You felt Yuta’s pace get rougher, losing it’s steady tempo as he chases closer to his climax. He thrusts into you heartily a final time before his release spills into you, closing his eyes as he rides out his orgasm out slowly and tenderly. He remains inside for sometime after, rubbing your hips with his thumb as he admires the mixture of c*m and blood streaming out of your hole and cascading down his dick.
“Beautiful.”
He looks to your face now, smiling gently.
“So, do you feel better now, (Name)?”
#jjk#yuta okkotsu#yuta okkotsu x reader#jujutsu kaisen#okkotsu yuta x reader#reader x jjk#jjk x reader#dark jjk#period sex#okkotsu yuta#okkotsu yuuta#yuuta okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuuta x reader#tw.yandere#tw.blood#tw.periods#tw.dubcon#smut#jjk smut
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Hey dear! I hope that you have a good time! I want to make a request, but please delete it if you don't feel like doing it.
I saved that request in the notes and been waiting for you to open them 😊
For request
First fight with brother (any of your choice) and one of them (I mean MC or that brother) thinks that it's end of relationship (because never had anything serious), but they reconciled in the end. I want some heavy angst with happy ending. MC can be GN if that is OK.
If you don't mind you can do for Mammon, but feel free to choose another one if you don't feel like write for him. Or if that would be better to write as headcanons for all the brothers. That's up to you!
I haven't been doing requests for ages. Please don't hate me if there is something wrong! I've read the rules, and I hope I haven't missed anything.
Anyway, sorry for long ask. And thank you for your writings!
(I forgot to look if you did anything similar, and remembered it at the end of writing that ask. Sorry if you already did something like that!)
Hey babes ❤ I did end up doing HCs for all of them because I thought it would be cooler (or more like I know someone is gonna request separate fics for all of them if I dont and I'm saving myself that trouble lol) I still hope you like it ! ❤ also this got SUPER LONG so its under a cut
Warning: angst -> happy ending-ish
THE BROTHERS in a fight with MC and thinking that they’re over (yikes)
Lucifer:
Everyone always says Lucifer is quick to lose his cool but he’s honestly been nothing but patient with you. He may have hinted at several things he doesn’t condone and he definitely has that ‘look’, you know the disappointed dad look, but he has held back a lot so as to not ruin the beautiful relationship you have with him. Everyone snaps, though, and when he finally did, it was ugly. He did NOT call you names, but oh he didn’t. He went straight for your feelings and pointed out every mistake you ever made for as long as he’s known you. Ouch. In his defense, you weren’t nice either. The argument ended nasty and ‘I hate you’s!’ were definitely thrown around, but none of them were meant, right? Goodness, he doesn’t know. After you left, he threw himself on his bed, literally, and just stared at the ceiling. His anger slowly fled away and he began to feel… guilty. Not necessarily because of the argument itself, but because he delivered some low blows and he knows that. Are you over? Done with him? You haven’t texted or called or talked… you’ve been actively avoiding him and he doesn’t like that, but his pride is such an issue, goodness. He can’t straight up apologize, that dickhead, but he’s sending you flowers and standing in front of your door with a sad face that says it all.
“Forgive me? I made reservations at your favorite’s? We can talk over a nice dinner?”
Mammon:
Mammon is known to get mildly agitated over the silliest things, let’s be real. He’s also quick to revert to the “are you dumb?!” argument, which is never effective. But he loves you and he would do anything for you so even if you do do something that he deems ‘dumb’, he usually bites his tongue. Doesn’t mean that doesn’t get on his nerves, though, and he definitely has a short temper, although people tend to overlook that. You just managed to push his buttons today and he used the “are ya stupid?!” argument, to which you obviously defended yourself, and rightfully so. This ended in a massive screaming match and him saying “Then leave! Ain’t nobody keepin’ ya with me!” He regretted it the minute those words left his mouth and you could see his eyes grow wide in shock at his own words, but that didn’t mean you stayed. “MC!” he tried running after you immediately but you were faster and honestly, who can blame you? He fucked up, and he knows it, and he feels terrible about it. Honestly, he’s crying just at the mere thought of you taking his words seriously and he can’t… he can’t bear to lose you, you know? What’s he gonna do? You’re the light of his life, as pathetic as that may sound to some…. So he won’t let you run away. Homie will hunt you down and beg for forgiveness.
“Please, MC! Forgive me! I’m dumb, not you!!! Don’t leave me…” Don’t leave him. He will continue crying.
Leviathan:
His constant need to put himself down is frankly, quite annoying. To you anyway. But you put up with it and just reassure him that, at least to you, he’s the most amazing demon that ever existed. It’s just facts. But a person only has so much patience, right? You can’t always spend your days trying to lift him up when all he does is dig himself a bigger hole. Who has the emotional time for that? You sure don’t. “Oh my God, Levi! Shut up! I can’t take it anymore!” Followed by “See! You’re just like everyone else! Leaving me!” and then you slamming the door to his room shut. It’s frustrating and understandably so. It makes you feel awful that you can’t even make your own boyfriend feel good about himself and get at least a little bit of self confidence and it’s so, so, so very draining to have to constantly listen to that. At this point, it’s affecting your own mental health and you just… you just can’t…. But Levi can’t lose you because he knows you’re right. He has to work on himself if he wants to keep someone as amazing as you with him and that’s why he’s crawling back to you now.
“Look I… I know you’re right… I’m sorry. I promise I’ll … I’ll try. For you.”
Satan:
For being the Avatar of Wrath, you always admired Satan for his ability to keep cool. He prefers the relaxed and easy going life much more than the type of life people expect him to live, and you respect that. That doesn’t mean his constant need to one up Lucifer, through whatever means necessary, didn’t bother the hell out of you, though. You tried talking to him about it once or twice in a calm manner, but you always got the same answer “Pfft.. it’s Lucifer. Who cares?” And it never sat right with you. Just today he decided to pull a prank on the eldest and you had enough, standing in front of Lucifer and letting the bucket of cursed green slime land on you instead, to everyone’s shock. “What are you doing?!” Now that you’re thoroughly green from head to toe, you were also beyond pissed. “What am I doing?! What are YOU doing?!” But Satan matched your anger tenfold, accusing you of favoring Lucifer over him and oh! “You probably got an affair with him, too!” Which was a stupid thing on his part, but it looked like it the way you defended him. Anger doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion you felt running through you and had it not been for Lucifer, you probably would’ve physically fought Satan for such a dumb accusation. Lucifer took you to get cleaned up and lifted the course, giving you your natural skin and hair color back within a few days and plenty of scrubbing, and Satan felt like shit. You’ve always been there for him and, rationally speaking, he didn’t have a reason to doubt your loyalty to him, but he just can’t help but feel insecure beside Lucifer…. He decides to come apologize anyway, a deep blush on his face and guilt in his eyes
“I’m… sorry for accusing you. It wasn’t my right to speak out of anger and jealousy…”
Asmodeus:
How can anyone fight with the Avatar of Lust? Seriously, the guy is super easy going and he loves pretty much everyone. Not as much as himself, but almost. You on the other hand… you didn’t. Well you didn’t NOT love him or yourself, but you were just… you. You didn’t spend 4+ hours in the bathroom trying to get ready when you knew you were only going to the kitchen down the stairs. Like?? Although you never brought it up to Asmodeus, he constantly bothered you about skincare and what foods to eat and what not to eat, etc… It’s quite annoying, honestly, and at some point you just gave him a passive aggressive “Okay, whatever. Can we move on now?” To which he didn’t take lightly. He was still nice and sweet, trying to convince you that at least one of these things will make your skin glow brighter than a unicorn’s ass but you just had enough. “Can you stop?! You’re indirectly saying I’m ugly without that shit ton of product in my face and a diet that would make me starve before it helped me! If you want a skinny VS angel that barely holds onto their skeleton, get one!” It was more hurt and frustration speaking than anything, but your outburst still shocked him and he was taken aback for a moment. And then you ignored him for a week straight and as someone who thrives off of attention, especially the kind he gets from you, he can’t handle that! So he showed up in your room in sweats and a tshirt and messy hair and no product on his skin.
“You’re right… we’re all naturally beautiful…. Wow that… that really hurts to say MC but can you forgive me?”
Beelzebub:
Oh the sweet, sweet angel. He’s far from innocent and you know that. We all know that. But for this story, I will give him the benefit of the doubt. His reliance on Belphegor is just really… annoying. Belphegor this, Belphegor that. “Belphie used to…” or “Belphie said….” or “one day when Belphie and I….” Like why does everything have to include his twin? It’s so annoying and so rude when your significant other is right here !!! and planning their own future with you, Beel, thanks. It makes you feel less than and like Belphegor will always come before you. It makes you feel like shit, quite frankly, and who is to blame you? “Hey MC did I tell you what Belphie---!” “No! Shut up! I don’t care! It’s always about Belphie! The day you come to me and don’t let that name drip from your tongue is the day Jesus comes back to save me and we both know that will be never! I’m tired of always being stuck with Belphegor! We are not equals!” Granted, you shouldn’t have yelled and Beel was more than confused at your outburst, but you wouldn’t talk to him anymore after that so he left you alone. He thought you may need an hour or two, maybe a day tops, but that day turned into a full week and he even lost his appetite just because he knows you’re angry with him. It’s been a week, does that mean you’re over? His heart aches just at the thought…
“I’m sorry for bringing Belphie up… I don’t want you to feel less than, MC. You mean a lot to me and so does Belphie, but you’re not Belphie and I need to learn that…”
Belphegor:
Honestly it’s a miracle he hasn’t lost his temper at you yet. Well, he partially blames it on his own laziness because if being angry or getting upset didn’t take so much energy out of him, maybe he would’ve snapped by now lol, but he tries really hard not to because he thinks your relationship with him after everything is pretty good, considering yall kiss and snuggle and fuck on a regular basis. But anyway, that’s exactly the issue. Considering everything, you’re still holding *that* against him. It’s never direct either, which makes it worse. It’s always said in a joking manner and something like “haha look it’s just like that one time you killed me” or “Beel’s grabbing that ham like you grabbed my throat” or “I remember seeing jesus for a moment there” and it agitates him. It makes him so angry, and he finally snapped. “I know I fucked up MC! Stop holding it against me! What do you want? A medal of honor? A survivor's certificate? Maybe a pat on the back for developing some sort of Stockholm syndrome that made you come back to your abuser?!” And then he left. And you may have cried both from confusion and your own anger, he isn’t quite sure. It’s just so…. Aggravating. He can’t deal with it. He knows it was a mistake spurted by his own insecurities and survivor’s guilt which ultimately led to his hatred but please, stop holding it against him.. He can’t keep putting up with it from the person he’s grown to love. He’s the one ignoring you and he won’t budge either because he’s a stubborn ass, but maybe if you come up first…
“I’m sorry for yelling at you… I’m just so tired for it being held against me… I love you, and you should know that, and I do feel guilty about what happened.”
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios#cheys headcanons#asmodeus obey me#belphegor obey me#mammon obey me#obey me lucifer#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me beelzebub#tw angst
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take my hand, wreck my plans | william nylander
a/n: if you’ve been around this blog for a while, you’ve probably seen me talking about “willy fake dating fic” for quite a bit now...well here she is! settle in for a long read (the longest i’ve posted in one go before) and i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! so so so much love to literally every single person who cheered me on while writing this, but extra special thanks to @denis-scorianov and @danglesnipecelly for all your love and support
also shoutout to my girl tswift for the title, evermore still slaps
word count: 21.5k
It’s right in the middle of the busiest hours of the day when Steph’s text comes in, which means Aubrey barely even reads the message. She sees the words dinner and Friday and responds that she’ll be there, and then goes back to trying to fix the clusterfuck of code that one of her coworkers messed up earlier in the morning before her project has to get sent off to a client at the end of the week.
By the time Friday comes around, she’s only just managed to fix the code but the project is finished enough to send off as a first draft, so Aubrey races over to Steph and Mitch’s place after work, knowing she looks frazzled as hell from the look on her best friend’s face the minute she enters their kitchen. “Sweetie.” Steph says, then bites her lip.
The feeling is mutual to Aubrey, because she’s giving Steph the same once over that Steph’s giving her. She’d arrived from the office, which took casual Friday to the extreme, in her favorite leggings, denim jacket, and converse- still enjoying the last bit of summer before Toronto turned to fall. Meanwhile Steph was dressed up for the evening in jeans and a flowy top. Her hair was done, her makeup looked beautiful; nothing about her screamed casual dinner at home. Certainly not like the messy ponytail Aubrey was rocking, after running over from work.
“Wine?” Mitch offers, breaking the silence, and Aubrey nods immediately, forgetting entirely about...whatever is going on here in favor of the alcohol she’s been needing since she arrived at the office today.
Mitch pours a glass and offers it out, but honestly, fuck that; Aubrey reaches for the bottle instead and takes a sip. “Nope, listen, these motherfuckers-” And then, she cuts herself off abruptly as she catches sight of the single most beautiful man she has ever had the pleasure of even having in her field of vision, leaning against the counter.
“No, go ahead.” Blondie grins, and fuck that, of course, he’s got the most beautiful smile too. “These motherfuckers, what?”
“Fucked up a huge project at work this week.” Aubrey finishes, pretty lamely, compared to how heated she’d started that sentence.
“Gonna start throwing that at Matts.” Blondie grins again. “Anytime he fucks up a pass to me. This motherfucker.”
“Heh.” She laughs, lifting the wine bottle in a cheers-esque manner, and then, not knowing what else to do, she takes another large sip.
Blondie is still grinning when Aubrey brings her bottle back down and Mitch is doing a very poor job of hiding a laugh, but it’s not hard to see that Steph’s making murder eyes that Aubrey pointedly ignores, so Steph turns her attention away with a sigh. “What’s up, Will?”
“Oh, uh, Matts and Alison nominated me to see if there was anything we could do to help.” Will says smoothly.
“We?” Mitch raises an eyebrow, at the distinct lack of we that arrived with Will.
“Well.” Will shrugs, like that should explain everything, and maybe it does, because Mitch only snorts.
“We’re okay.” Steph jumps in. “We’ll all be out soon.”
Will nods, and leaves Aubrey with one last grin, before he turns and heads out towards their back patio, which must be where dinner is taking place, but as soon as the door shuts behind him, Aubrey turns to round on Steph and Mitch. “What the fuck?”
“Me, what the fuck?” Steph, her best friend since grade school, knows exactly what she’s talking about. “You, what the fuck?”
“This was a setup?”
“You didn’t know?” Mitch cries, turning immediately to his girlfriend and looking incredibly offended.
“Yes she did!” Steph defends. “I literally texted you: Mitch has a single friend we think you’d get along with if you’re interested. Are you free friday for dinner? We were thinking of having you all over. And you said: sounds good I’ll be there.”
“Well, in my defense, work was a dumpster fire this week and I really only skim-read that text.”
“Well now I know why you showed up like that.”
“Rude, Stephanie.” Aubrey sticks her tongue out at her best friend, grinning immediately afterwards, because Steph’s her best friend and she’s the only one she would let talk to her this way. “Just for that I’m not using a glass the entire night.”
“Not like your first impression could get any worse.” Steph deadpans.
“Meh.” Mitch shrugs. “It’s Willy. He’s done way worse.”
Steph sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose, and then looks over. “Could you use your one free hand then to take a second bottle of wine out then please? For the rest of us who’d like some, to share?”
Aubrey grins. “Gladly.”
That this was meant to be a setup couldn’t be more clear to her as the three of them make their way out to the porch with more drinks and some snacks. Mitch and Steph have dragged some of their comfier patio furniture around the firepit; there’s a couple curled into each other on one of the couches, an empty one with Mitch’s favorite type of beer on the table next to it, and one seat open on the couch that’s occupied by Will.
Aubrey shoots Steph a look as Steph practically leaps back onto the empty couch, and then she slips herself into the empty seat next to Will. That level of distinct lack of chill is really her thing, thanks Steph.
Steph merely grins back, formally introducing her to everyone around them. And okay, their friends are cool- like Aubrey knows they are; she’s met more than a few of Mitch’s hockey friends before. She’s many-a-time fifth-wheeled dinner with Mitch and Steph and Matt and Syd. She, Mitch, and Steph still had a group chat going with a bunch of Mitch’s old teammates from the Knights. Hell, Strome and McDavid had joined Mitch in playing with her and Steph on their families’ summer softball team last summer.
But she just can’t seem to understand what they see in Will that they think he’d be good for her. Like sure he’s nice enough, and obviously good looking, and like, yeah she has a good time while she’s there, but like, sparks? Nothing.
Regardless of the lack of sparks between them, it is a fun night, and she curls up in one of the guest rooms in Steph and Mitch’s that night, fully planning on laughing at them the next morning.
Except, the next morning, Mitch is already gone for practice and Steph’s first question is, “So when are you going to see Will again?”
Aubrey frowns. “Uhh I don’t know. Probably whenever you have us both over for dinner again?”
Steph frowns back. “What?”
“What what?”
“You didn’t, like, give him your number? Make plans? Anything?”
“Why would we?”
“Because he’s perfect for you?”
Aubrey gives her a look. Was Steph even at the same dinner that she was? They, like, barely interacted; Will chatting more with Auston and what’s-her-name or Mitch and Auston, and her with Steph pretty much the entire night. “Perfect for me? Seriously? That’s the guy you think is perfect for me?”
She huffs. If Aubrey didn’t know her best friend better she’d think she was offended, but, well, she does. “Yes!”
“No!”
“I mean, at least give it a shot!” Steph needles.
Aubrey pulls a face. “Why? So we can break up and make things super awkward at anything you and Mitch throw for the rest of your lives? No thanks.”
“I’m telling you.” Steph says. “Perfect match.” But she drops it after that, suggesting brunch, an offer that Aubrey immediately agrees to.
-----
It’s a quick stop for Aubrey to pop home to change and pick up her roommate, Erin, before the three girls head over to what’s long been a favorite brunch spot, laughing as Aubrey and Erin watch Steph fire off a series of snapchats to Mitch featuring her bottomless mimosas- her favorite way of asking to be picked up on his way home from practice.
Erin laughs so hard she almost snorts mimosa out her nose as Aubrey and Steph recap dinner from the previous night, but once she recovers, she hits Steph with a look. “I am begging you to invite me to this next time, solely so I can watch the two of them interact.”
Aubrey gasps as Steph laughs. “Rude!”
Erin giggles, beginning to recount the date she’d gone on last night-her fourth with this guy from the gym she belongs to-and Aubrey finds herself nodding along with Steph in all the right places, as friends should, happy that Erin’s happy, especially after her shitty last boyfriend, and eager to meet this guy for more than the five minutes he’d shown up at their door.
Her story is interrupted-for Aubrey, at least-by the vibration of her phone, and she checks the text from an unfamiliar number, rolling her eyes when she sees the message.
hey this is will, followed by an amount of emojis that could only actually be from Mitch.
hi mitch. She sends back.
lol. Comes the response. sorry.
you don’t have to apologize for mitch. i’m familiar
Will reacts to that with a haha and then it’s a while before she checks her phone again, enjoying brunch with her girls and laughing at the look on Mitch’s face as he comes to pick Steph up and realizes he’ll be driving her and Erin back as well.
he’s really found his place between annoying and relentless. Will’s texted, when she checks again a little later, at home on the couch and pleasantly tipsy, deciding what to Netflix with Erin.
that’s his sweet spot. Aubrey sends, and then points halfheartedly at The Office on the screen, well on her way to a post-brunch nap.
-----
Aubrey knows Mitch and Steph well enough to know that’s not the end of it, and sure enough, the subtle (and not so subtle) hints keep coming. But luckily, training camp is about to begin, and so even if they do keep coming, Mitch, and by extension, Will, are both too busy for Mitch and Steph to push anything too crazy on her and Will.
Until suddenly the season begins, and even though things are still crazy for them, suddenly they’ve got days off or afternoons free and she finds that the subtleness of the hints becomes gradually less subtle.
jesus fuck. Will sends one afternoon and she laughs at it immediately, even as he continues typing. tell steph i’m sorry but mitch had to go.
She laughs loudly, which earns her a look from her nearest coworkers. right there with you.
considering just lying and telling him i already took you out last week to just get him off my back jfc.
tried that already. knew i was lying right away. Aubrey sends back. She appreciates him trying, but come on. That was like, the first thing she tried.
well, Will sends, and then those annoying three dots appear and disappear about four times, before he finally finishes. let’s just go somewhere then and get them off our backs.
time and fucking place. She replies.
-----
Aubrey meets Will at a bar that’s close to her work, a couple days after that text exchange, just in time for the end of happy hour. He’s got a drink in front of him already, that he quickly finishes when the waiter comes to take her order, so he can order another one while she orders one of her favorite cocktails, before it becomes full price again at the start of the next hour.
“You know, I thought Mitchy would have been more…” Will trails off, looking thoughtful, but then continues after a moment. “Smug, when I told him we were going out tonight. What’d Steph say?”
“Oh don’t get me wrong. They’ll be smug to each other.” Aubrey tells him, confident that the two of them are at home right now boasting about the fact that they were right. “But if they think we’re actually on the same page now and they say anything that I hear, that would be the end. Downward tailspin, cut my hair six inches, new tattoo, you name it.”
Will laughs. “So it’s like that?”
She nods. “A little lacking in some impulse control.” She holds her thumb and index finger up to him, with about 10cm of space between them, to show him just how poor it is, and Will laughs again.
“Guess I’ll just have to wait for a nice, big I told you so tomorrow.” He says.
Aubrey snickers. “One a day for the next few weeks more like.”
Will shrugs. “Meh, I’ll figure something out to give him a taste of his own medicine.”
“We should.” Aubrey nods absentmindedly, as a comment she’d made to Steph right after the initial dinner comes back to her.
“Should what?” Will frowns.
“Give them a taste of their own medicine.”
“Where are you going with this?” Will asks curiously.
Aubrey grins, as the idea starts to form. “A tragic break up to make things so awkward for the two of them that they’ll regret setting us up in the first place.”
Will pauses for a long moment, but then he grins and leans toward her. “I’m listening.”
-----
Steph is bouncing when Aubrey walks into their weekly Thursday barre class. She’s sure she knows why, but Aubrey gives her a strange look anyway when she slides in next to her. “What?”
“What?” Steph repeats. “Seriously?”
Aubrey laughs. “Use your words, Stephanie.”
“Bitch, you know what I want.” Steph says, which makes the woman in front of them turn and give them a scandalized look.
Aubrey giggles. She’d really just wanted to annoy Steph a little but that was totally worth it all. “Yeah I know. It was good. Like whatever.”
“I hate you so much.”
“I’m going to see him again!”Aubrey protests. “What more do you want from me? I’m not going to like, profess my undying love for him after one date. I’m not Mitch.”
“It was like, our fifth date, and he didn’t profess his undying love for me! He just said he loved me!” Steph huffs as Aubrey snickers. She laughs about it now, they all do, a thing she teases both of her friends about, but she vividly remembers the panic Steph had been in coming home from that date.
“Well.” She says, grinning. “I guess I’ve got four dates to go then. Or maybe Will does.”
“Will’s too chill to do anything like that.” Steph decides, just as their usual instructor enters. “Ridiculous shit is definitely more your move.”
Aub thinks back to her date with Will the other night, where they’d carefully crafted an entire narrative to start this fake relationship, and fights back a grin, because she’s pretty sure Will can be just as ridiculous. He just does a better job at hiding it.
-----
Just after noon one day, a few weeks into her arrangement with Will, Aubrey’s phone buzzes and she more than welcomes the interruption from the current project she’s working on.
need a favor. Will’s sent, followed immediately by, please.
sure, what’s up?
His name pops up on her screen next and Aubrey frowns, swiping to accept the call. “Hey.”
“I’m downstairs.” Will says and she frowns, both at the skipped greeting, and at his words.
“Of my office?” She blurts.
“Yeah.” Will says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world, and Aubrey pushes her chair back abruptly.
“Uh ok. I’ll be right down.” She’s already pushing the button for the elevator, waving off the coworker calling after her, asking if everything’s okay.
Will’s waiting outside, with two cups of coffee in hand, and even though he’d said that he was, Aubrey’s still kind of surprised to see him. He passes her one of the cups in his hand and she takes it, thanking him as she does. “So what’s up?”
“I need a favor.” Will says, starting to walk, and Aubrey follows easily, sipping on the latte he’d brought her.
She laughs. “You said. What do you need?”
“The team’s got this thing on Friday.” Aubrey gives him a look, because she knows what the thing the team has on Friday is, Steph’s been talking about it for a few weeks now, and it is not as casual as Will is throwing it out to her right now. “And I think I need you to come with me.”
“Do you though?” Aubrey says. “Do you really?”
“I tried for you not to.” Will admits, shooting her a grin, which she appreciates. “But, well, it’s a thing I would have brought any other girlfriend to and then Mitchy opened his mouth too…” He trails off.
“So find a dress.” Aubrey sums up.
Will nods. “Please. I’ll pay for it.” He adds, but she brushes it off.
“If we’re still stuck in this for Blue and White, you can buy me a dress then.” She grins, and Will returns the grin.
“Deal.”
-----
Fixing her curls one last time in the mirror by the door, Aubrey grabs her clutch and runs downstairs to meet her Uber. She’s late, not like super late, but more so than she’d hoped to be, even after texting Will that she was running behind with work and that she’d have to meet him at the venue probably, if he didn’t want to be late.
She shoots off a text to him when she gets in the car, letting him know she’s on her way, and makes polite chatter for a few minutes with her driver, leg bouncing anxiously until he pulls up to where she needs to be.
Will’s standing outside the door when she pulls up, like he’s waiting for her as if this was an actual date, looking at something on his phone in the meantime, which gives Aubrey a minute to take a peek at his suit. He looks good; she might not have any desire to actually date Will, but she can absolutely admit to both herself and anyone (including Steph) that he’s probably the most objectively attractive human she’s ever met, and the suit only ramps that up. It’s custom made, perfectly fitted, a navy blue that brings out his eyes, and maybe a little more casual than some others she’s seen but in a good way.
His choice in suits makes her feel better about what she’s wearing. Aubrey’d been trying to work off what Steph was wearing, while making sure that what she'd picked out wasn’t overly fancy for the evening or too similar to what Steph had already chosen, ending up in a knee length dress with a sheer high neckline.
“Hey!” She smiles, catching his attention, mildly disappointed that he doesn’t even flinch in surprise, only looks up as smooth as can be and returns her smile.
“Hey.” He slips his phone in his pocket, reaching out for her hand.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Aubrey says immediately, that terrible feeling of letting anyone down instantly relieved when Will waves her off.
“You haven’t even missed the entire cocktail hour.” He says and she feels her eyes widen as he nods solemnly. “Yeah, it’s like that.”
“Our first stop better be to get me a glass of wine.”
Will laughs, pressing the button for the elevator. “Wouldn’t dream of it being anywhere else.”
Will refreshes his own drink as well, and selects a red wine for her after Aub hems and haws over the options for a minute, a choice that she almost can’t bring herself to take a sip of once the glass is in her hand, for fear that she’ll never be able to drink another Malbec again, guessing this one is well out of her price range based on name and bottle appearance alone. (She takes a sip anyway, it’s as delicious as she’d expected).
Will’s smiling, as if waiting for her reaction, like there’s not a wine she doesn’t like (well, chardonnay, but like, even that she’ll drink if it’s all that available). “Should we do this?” Aubrey asks him, ready to watch him be roasted by teammates for the evening, and he nods, hand moving to the small of her back, leading her deep into the crowd.
But for all the shit he claims to have taken recently about her, they must be on their best behavior, out in public. Everyone he introduces her to is nothing but friendly; the few people she’s met before this event greet her with smiles and open arms, welcoming her into the fold.
“Are you sure these are the same teammates you warned me about?” She asks Will, when they have a minute to themselves, just finishing up a long and very nice conversation with Justin Holl, Jake Muzzin and their wives, and thinking of the series of texts he’d sent her this morning about “all these assholes.”
“They’re being nice, just for you.” He insists. His arm is still at her waist; it’s barely left there all night.
“Ugh, so I grew up with seven siblings and I’m not even going to be able to use the skills I got from that to throw down?” She jokes. “What was the point?”
Will actually stops walking for a second, drawing her into him quickly when she stumbles, not expecting the abrupt stop in walking. “You have seven siblings?”
Aubrey nods, wondering if she should bother getting into her family dynamics right now, and settles for a short version. “On my mom’s side, yeah. My parents divorced when I was a baby, and they both remarried. My brother and I have more siblings from both of them; it’s just like a whole thing with my dad.” She winces.
Will’s grinning again, though, like he didn’t even catch it, and he points to himself. “One of six.”
“Oh my god!” She blurts out excitedly, before she can help herself. There’s not many people she knows with sibling counts even close to hers, step and half siblings including, let alone a family like Will’s. “See, you get it!”
“Get what?” She hadn’t even realized that Mitch and Steph had approached them, until Mitch pokes in nosily.
“That younger siblings are actual monsters.”
“You talk to your sisters everyday!” Mitch frowns, because he doesn’t get it; he never has.
“Yeah, your point?” Aubrey gives him a look as the others laugh around them. “That’s literally what having younger siblings is, and you just don’t know it because you are one.”
“Shots fired.” Steph nudges him.
“You’re the younger sibling too!” he nudges her back.
“Mmm, traditionally, Aub and I count all our siblings together, soo.” She trails off, laughing at the look on Mitch’s face.
Aubrey’s nodding; their families had grown up so close that it wasn’t uncommon to see Steph and her sister hanging around with Aubrey and her brothers, from the time they were children, all the way until today. “That’s why when Cam starts driving me crazy when she’s here next weekend, I’m just dropping her at your place. Basically the same thing.”
“Ohh, so she’s definitely coming?” Steph asks, eyes wide.
Aubrey nods. “Confirmed it with my mom today, I’m going to meet her halfway.” She pauses for the briefest of seconds. “Want to come?”
“Yes! Coffee on the way?”
“Obviously!”
“Yeah, Will and I are definitely going to sit this one out.” Mitch nods firmly.
“You weren’t actually invited, but okay.” Steph pats his shoulder mock-comfortingly. “But we should all do dinner when we get back!”
It takes everything in Aubrey not to show the internal panic on her face. She’s insanely close with her sisters, despite the age gap- she’s close with all her siblings, the brothers that she’d grown up probably terrorizing their parents together and the younger ones that terrorize them all now. It was probably unrealistic to think she could make it through “dating” Will without him meeting any of them, especially knowing how close Steph is with them too. “Yeah, that would be fun.”
She feels Will squeeze her side gently, almost comfortingly, but before they can get much further with this conversation, someone’s coming around and asking them to find their seats for dinner, so they split off to their tables, with promises to make plans for the following Friday over the next few days.
-----
Will’s quiet on the drive home after dinner, in his very expensive car, which is fine because Aubrey spends that time marveling over it. Like, she knew he was boujie, but, wow.
“Is your sister staying all next weekend?” Will asks, abruptly interrupting Aubrey’s caress of the soft leather of the seat beneath her legs.
“Hm? Oh yeah.” She nods. “Cam’s been a super pain since Kayls started high school this year since she’s still back in junior high, but worse since Kayls just got invited to her first high school party and it’s next weekend.” She sees Will’s wince out of the corner of her eye and laughs. “Oh my god, you don’t even know the half of it! When I texted Cam to invite her up next weekend, she was like why would I want to come hang out with a bunch of old people like you anyway?”
Will’s laughing and Aubrey’s jaw drops until he shares, “When I was home last summer, my youngest sister made me drop her off at a friend’s house three doors away because I wasn’t cool enough to be seen with.”
She actually laughs at that- if Will, an actual professional hockey player, isn’t cool enough to be seen with, then who is?- but the attitude is so familiar. “They’re super close, Kayls and Cam, and like I kinda get why Cam’s being super annoying about a lot of shit. Like, I know she feels like she’s being left behind. But god, does she have to take it out on the rest of us?” She shakes her head, clearing both the thoughts and a piece of hair out of her face. “It’s just the age, my mom and I talk about it all the time. They’ll be nice again in a few years.”
Will glances over at her briefly with a look of panic on his face, before flicking his eyes back to the road. “That’s not really a comforting statement. As someone with three younger sisters,” He clarifies. “Not someone meeting yours this weekend.” Aubrey giggles. “But actually, I was wondering what your plans were with her on Saturday night? If you wanted tickets to the game for you guys?”
“Oh!” Aubrey blinks in surprise. “That would...that would actually be really nice. She’d like that.”
“Yeah?” She can hear the smile in Will’s voice.
“Well, she’d like the flex on all her friends on Monday.” Aub admits, knowing that her sister could probably care less about actually seeing a Leafs game. “And on the boys, they’d be super jealous.” At his glance, she clarifies. “Cam’s a triplet.”
He mutters something under his breath and she giggles again; she’s pretty sure that was Swedish and she can guess what it was. “But they’re not coming?”
“Not this weekend.” She confirms. She is definitely not hosting all three of Cam, Tyler, and Danny for the entire weekend. No way, no how. “But once they find out you’re offering tickets? I’m sure my phone will be ringing.”
“You know where to find me.” Will shrugs, pulling up in front of her building. “Thanks for coming tonight.”
Aubrey grins at him. “Fooled Steph and Mitch no problems.”
It feels like it takes a second for the comment to register with Will, but when it does, he returns the grin. “Yeah, no problems.”
-----
Steph waits until they are well on the road to meet her mom and both sisters (because in a surprise twist that everyone saw coming, a high schooler got grounded and a party was cancelled) sitting in stop and go traffic, before bringing up what Aubrey knows she’s been dying to ask. “So how’s Will?”
“Fine?” She responds, before she remembers that she’s supposed to know these things and hastens to finish. “It’s been a busy week with like, work and this shit, but like, he’s good.”
Steph makes a noise, like she’s unsatisfied with that answer and Aubrey gives her a look after she’s braked with the masses, waiting for it to pick up again. “But, like, how are the two of you?”
Ah. Ok. So that’s what this is about. “We’re good.” She assures Steph, absolutely certain her best friend is going to see right through her. “Just like, figuring shit out, you know? It’s still new.”
Steph’s nodding. “I mean, it wouldn’t be if you’d just gone out when Mitch and I first brought you to dinner…”
“Stephanie.” Aubrey says warningly, picking up speed, probably with too much hope that the traffic has cleared.
“Fine!” Steph laughs. “I know, I can’t say I told you so to you or you’re going to panic and break up with him and probably dye your hair and get bangs or something, but like. I’m super happy for you guys. You were so cute last week.”
“What?” Aub says blankly, because she really doesn’t have much else to say, but it doesn’t seem to matter, because Steph’s on a roll now.
“Like, Will couldn’t take his eyes off you the entire night.” She continues. “It was super cute; he kept, like reaching for you, you kept finding him.” She taps Aubrey’s leg excitedly. “Ok, I know I said I wouldn’t, but I’m too fucking excited and I knew you’d be perfect for each other, I knew it.”
“Oh, look! There’s a tattoo place right at the next light.” Aub says loudly, even though she has no intention of getting a tattoo right now- all four of her tattoos were impulsive decisions and the three threats she’s made since she’s gotten in the car feel like far too much thought, not to mention the time crunch they’re on to get back for dinner-but it does serve as the threat she intends. Steph clearly has no desire to try and talk her out of getting one today and switches the topic to something she just saw on the Insta of one of their friends, which lasts them until they pull into the parking lot that’s serving as the meeting point.
“Aub!” For all that Cameron pretends she’s too cool for everything, just like every 14 year old Aubrey can remember, she throws herself at Aubrey the second that Aub and Steph get out of the car.
Aub squeezes her back, wondering when she got so tall. “Hey Cammie.” Cam swats at her as she pulls back. She hates that nickname, the one that Aub and her three older brothers have called her basically her entire life, but they’ve never stopped, no matter how much their youngest sibling had begged. “Where’s Kayls?”
“Here!” Kaylee huffs from next to their mom, who’s chatting with Steph, has been since she hugged her the minute she got out of the car.
Aubrey’s eyes narrow, taking in the sibling who looks most like her. “Is that my sweater?”
“No.” Kaylee says too quickly to be true. “Are we ready? We have dinner plans, right?”
“Meeting Aubrey's new boyyyyfriend.” Cam sings, and Aubrey shoves her hand in her sister's face.
“Not if you’re going to act like that, we don’t.”
“Girls.” Their mom pauses, mid-reach for Aubrey, to give her youngest two daughters a full-on mom look. “Be nice.”
Aubrey laughs at the looks on their faces, before clutching at her mom. “Hi momma. Love you.”
“Love you too.” Her mom squeezes. “Thanks for this gift.” She whispers and winks because Aub knows that her mom loves all eight of them dearly, but these two in particular are driving her nuts right now. “See you Sunday, at Luke’s.”
“Bye, I’m sure I’ll call you ten times before tomorrow!” Aubrey waves at her mom as she gets in her car, sliding back into the driver’s seat of her own, where Steph, Kaylee, and Cam are chattering to each other as they buckle their seatbelts.
It’s just as she’s pulling back onto the road that Kayls gasps. “Aub, I think I forgot to pack toothpaste.”
“Ohh, me too!” Cam realizes.
Aubrey exchanges a look with Steph quickly. It’s not looking promising that she won’t be making a call to her mom, to talk her off the ledge.
-----
“What do you mean, you didn’t bring pants?” Aubrey rubs her temples as she stares at her sister.
Kaylee shrugs. “I forgot to pack them.”
“I forgot shirts.” Cam calls from the bathroom, where she’d just showered. “Can I borrow one?”
“Did you bring anything?” Aubrey asks wearily. “Toothbrush? Underwear?”
“Of course I brought underwear.” Kaylee huffs, sounding legit offended, like she didn’t forget to pack pants on a weekend trip away.
“Well excuse me for thinking you might not have, since you didn’t bring anything else!”
Her phone buzzes on the nightstand again; it’s got to be the third or fourth time, but she’s honestly been so caught up in her sisters that she hasn’t had time to check. “Just, like, grab whatever from the closet. We’re already late.”
Sure enough, it’s Will texting, letting her know he’s downstairs. be down in a few, She responds, not bothering to go into the whole pants story. “Girls! Three minutes!” She grins at their shrieks, packing a couple things into her purse and laughing to herself as she listens to them get ready. “Kayls! Cam!”
“We’re ready!” They rush out together, Kayls dressed in a pair of her favorite jeans and Cam in one of her favorite sweaters-how they always manage to find her favorites is ridiculous-but they don’t have time for her to make them change.
“Ugh.” Aubrey just says instead, ushering them out and locking it behind her. “Come on, Will’s been waiting.”
“Will’s here?”
“Yes?” She frowns at the two of them. “Where else would he be?” But Kaylee and Cam are already giggling to each other, enough for her to roll her eyes to herself as she leads them out to Will’s car, knowing it’s definitely too much to expect them to just be cool.
“Hey.” Will greets, as she slips into the passenger seat.
“Hi.” She returns, smiling at him.
“Uh, hi?” Cam says impatiently from the backseat. Will laughs, but Aub gives her a look.
“It’s been literally two seconds. Could you, like, chill?”
“Nope!”
Aub side-eyes her again, but turns back to Will. “These are my sisters, Cam and Kaylee.” They greet him eagerly, a sentiment he returns, and then spends the entire car ride to the restaurant where they’re meeting Steph and Mitch at answering every question they ask with absurd patience.
“Oh, I smell garlic.” Kaylee says, once Will has dropped his car off with valet.
“It smells delicious.” Aub corrects, because it’s definitely heavy on the garlic, but it smells heavenly.
Will smiles over at both of them, though Aub’s not sure if he means it more for Kaylee or her. “This is one of my favorite restaurants.”
“Really?” She blurts out, before she can stop herself, and he nods, reaching for her hand.
“Great food.” He confirms. “Come on; Mitch and Steph are already here.”
That certainly serves to get her sisters moving-all her younger siblings have stopped being impressed by Mitch but they still love seeing him just as much as they love seeing Steph- and they push their way into through the doors quickly enough that Aubrey rushes to catch up to them, not trusting them alone, and tugging Will along with her.
Cam and Kaylee have already found Mitch and Steph, already chatting away with the two of them, like they didn’t just see Steph two hours ago in the car, and Aubrey and Will slip into the last two seats at the table.
“You good?” Will nudges her as they sit.
Aubrey nods. “Yeah. Pretty good.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Pretty good.”
“Well, Frick and Frack may legitimately drive me crazy this weekend but.” She shrugs. “We’ll see.”
“What happened to dropping them off with Steph if they drove you too crazy?”
She laughs. “God, if only, Will. If only.”
“Will!” Kaylee interrupts, looking up briefly from her menu. “What’s good here?”
“Will! What’s this mean?” Cam adds and Aubrey takes a deep breath, even as Will looks like it’s his absolute pleasure to walk them through the names of some of the different dishes on the menu.
“Wine, please.” Aubrey requests from the waiter, the second he arrives at the table. “Literally, anything you’ve got.”
But Will waves that off, ordering a bottle of red for the table, in perfect French. “Show off.” She grumbles at him quietly and he grins at her from over the top of Cam’s menu, before he goes back to helping her out.
From her other side, Steph’s hiding her own smile, or rather, doing a very poor job at hiding one. “What?” Aubrey presses.
“Nothing.” Steph says. “Just happy to be having dinner all together.”
“Well that’s bullshit.” Aubrey calls her out, at the very blatant lie; Mitch snorts into his hand to cover his laugh. “But always happy to be having dinner with you too.”
Steph beams, clinking her wine glass with Aubrey’s the second the waiter fills them both. “Again, tomorrow, pregame?”
Aub looks over at her sisters, who have moved away from asking Will menu questions and are, instead, asking him questions about the bun in his hair. “Assuming you aren’t bailing me out of jail instead? Sure.”
-----
Aubrey Dupont:
we’re going to do apps with steph pregame but want to say thanks again for tix tonight! want to do dinner again with us after if you’re free?
Will Nylander:
i’m free dinner sounds good 😁 it’ll be late though once I get out
Aubrey Dupont:
that’s fine! Id say breakfast but we’ve got to leave pretty early tomorrow to get to my brothers to knock a wall down!
Will Nylander:
….holy shit cam was serious
Aubrey Dupont:
😂😂lollll yeah they’re opening up the dining room and living room! We’re all going out to take the wall down, we’re supposed to meet Steph and Mitch and then head out
Will Nylander:
lol does mitch know? he booked us a tee time Sunday
Aubrey Dupont:
stfu he did not😂 lol he probably just doesn’t want to get iced that early
Will Nylander:
haha what??
Aubrey Dupont:
hahaha the first time steph brought him home to meet our families, it was my parents Christmas Eve party, my brothers iced him like three times in the first hour. He was so trashed he couldn’t even walk back next door to Steph’s house.
It’s just like a thing we do, all our siblings and he was not prepared for it at all 😂
Will Nylander:
sooo if I left one in his locker this week, how much trouble would you be in?
Aubrey Dupont:
lol a lot but it’d be worth it, you should 100% do that
Mitch Marner:
we’re knocking down a wall tomorrow wtf why didn’t you tell me? I’ll brave a Smirnoff to knock down a fucking wall. What time are you and Will picking us up?
Will Nylander:
i fucked up, sorry
-----
“That’s really cute!” Zach Hyman’s wife smiles as she hands Kaylee her phone back.
“Thank you.” Aubrey mouths to her, as Cam and Kayls flock to the phone to check out the pictures she’s taken of them, and Alannah smiles at her knowingly. Aub’s sure she’s got sisters of her own.
“I’ll see you soon.” Alannah promises. “We should do dinner soon, the three of us, next time the boys are out of town.” And then she’s pushing her way toward Zach before Aub can respond to anything.
“Not a word.” Aubrey says warningly to her sisters, as Steph snickers, thinking of how picky the two of them are about pictures almost always.
“These are actually really cute though.” Cam says, like she even means it.
“Yeah, she did good.” Kayls adds, sliding her phone back into her purse.
“So happy they meet your standards.” Steph says dryly.
“They are the ones to meet.” Kayls flips her hair and it’s all Aubrey can do to fight back a laugh. She honest to god forgets how funny they are sometimes, when they’re driving her as crazy as they are now.
“You’re too much.” Aubrey tells her and Kaylee grins, looping her arms around Aub’s shoulders and squeezing tightly. “Okay, now you’re really too much. You’re suffocating me; get off! Look,” She nudges Kaylee away, noticing quickly that Mitch has appeared recently- without Will, but with Auston-and tries to draw her attention there instead. “Mitch is here, bother him instead.”
Kaylee peers over. “Honestly, who even cares about Mitch? I’d rather bother Will instead.”
Mitch’s jaw drops as Steph and Auston laugh, but Aubrey feels the tension immediately in her shoulders. “Jesus Christ, could you just say thank you to Will so he doesn’t think you’re a literal monster like the rest of the world does?”
“Thanks, Will!” Kaylee and Cam chorus, and she glares at them right up until she feels a presence at her side and realizes he’s actually right there.
“It was great to have you guys here this weekend.” Will smiles at them, sounding absolutely sincere, not a hint of sarcasm.
“We had so much fun.” Kayls is already gushing before Aub can even turn her death glare to her.
“What’d you guys do today?” Will asks her and again, it’s the sincerity that gets Aub, like he actually cares to listen to her sisters tell him about the brunch place that she and Steph took them to this morning, the stores they hit afterwards, a few of their favorite spots, before they had to go home and get ready for the game.
He’s sweet and attentive, asking all the questions that he should and nodding in all the right places. “You guys still want dinner?” He asks, probably as soon as he can find a time to interrupt. He’s got to be absolutely starving after that game.
“Yes.” Aubrey answers for them all; she doesn’t really care what her sisters actually have to say on the matter. If Will’s hungry, they’ll eat right now whether they want to or not.
“Can we go back to that bakery we went to earlier, first?” Cam asks, and Aubrey straight up glares at her, but before she can even say no, Cam’s already whining to her. “Oh my, god, seriously? Stop, Aubrey!”
“Ryan, like, swears you’re fun; I just don’t see it.” Kaylee adds, about their brother, the one just younger than Aub.
And like, Aubrey knows they’re just trying to get under her skin, but like, Jesus Christ. “That’s because Ryan’s an actual adult and whenever you two come up here I have to be your literal mom, because you forget to bring toothbrushes and pants and use manners!”
“Take like four deep breaths.” Will says, in that chill way he is about basically everything, and immediately Aubrey feels her glare swing over toward him. That’s basically being told to calm down and there’s literally nothing fucking worse than that, doesn’t he know that?
Probably not. He’s probably never been told to calm down in his life. Jesus, what was it again that made Steph think he was perfect for her?
Mitch, probably recognizing that Aubrey’s about to lose it, pulls Cam into his side for a one-armed hug, mentioning that he’s starving, which at least cues Kaylee into the fact that Will might be too. “Yeah, dinner does actually sound good.” Her eyes flicker over to Will first, before landing on Aubrey, and only when Aub sees the flicker of remorse in them does she actually take that breath that Will had mentioned.
“What time are we meeting in the morning?’ Steph asks, and Aub knows she’s looking to smooth over any potential blow up.
“9:22.” She deadpans, laughing at Mitch’s face.
“It’s supposed to be a nice day!” He protests. “I wouldn’t have made a tee time if you two had told me we were knocking down a wall! I had to hear it from Willy! What’s this shit?”
“Kicked out of the group chat again.” Aub shrugs, even though she knows well and truly that he hasn’t been- and won’t be again until sometime early spring, when someone does it symbolically for a day as they do every year.
“I’ll kick you out of the group chat.” Mitch says childishly, as Steph tries to collect him, Auston already ready to leave, and promising Aub that they’ll make plans later that night about the next morning.
“Will, where do you want to take us tonight for food?” Kayls asks, as they part ways in the lot.
Will looks a little startled. “Oh! Uh, what-where do you guys want to go?”
“We want to go where you like to eat.” Cam says. “We’ll eat anything.”
Will looks at her for confirmation and Aubrey nods; none of them are picky eaters. “Sushi?” He suggests and both girls nod excitedly, racing off towards Will’s car. “See?” He nudges her as they walk to catch up. “They’re fine.”
She glares up at him; he bumps her again and then again, repeatedly until she smiles. “They’re not awful.” She agrees, especially now that they’ve reminded her just how nice they can really be, at times.
Will’s grinning, matching her own smile. “I know you love them.”
“Don’t call me out like that, William.” He mimes zipping his lips and she laughs. “Ugh, you dork. Let’s go eat.”
-----
Kayls and Cam are in peak hurricane form, only barely dressed and nowhere near packed and ready to go, when Will texts to announce that he’s arrived to pick them up in the morning, so Aub just responds with her apartment number and tells him to come up.
He arrives at her door a minute or two later, with a guest in tow. “Mitchy invited him.” Will explains sheepishly, as he and Auston make themselves at home at the breakfast bar in her kitchen.
“Sorry to just, like, crash.” Auston adds.
Aubrey blinks at them. She feels like Will, of all people, should know better. “There’s legit eight of us; we adopt strays all the time.” He cracks up at that; they both do actually, and she smiles, just as Kayls shouts something about Cam stealing her leggings, from where they’re still in her room gathering her stuff.
“They’re not even yours!” Cam shouts. “Aubrey, tell her I got them first.”
“Well I was planning on wearing them!”
“Well you didn’t say that!”
“It’s just like being at home.” Auston says, smiling fondly enough that Aub laughs. “Make sure you check the straightener before you leave or they’ll fight about who forgot to turn it off in the car.” And then she straight up cackles; that’s a fight she knows well.
Auston and Will are both laughing as well, even as she hears her sisters shout for her. She ignores it, running her hands over her temples and turns towards the cabinet. “Coffee?” She asks them, and they both laugh as a muffled shout can be heard.
“Please.” Will says and Auston agrees so she pours mugs for them both, making idle chit chat, interrupted occasionally as they wait for her sisters to finally appear and be ready to leave.
They do, eventually, far later than Aubrey would have liked, and late enough that she’s grinding her teeth about it, loud enough that Will nudges her gently when she passes him to get her coat. He’s right though, it’s not like they’re in a rush to get out to her brother's house, but she’s anxious enough by that point to get moving that she doesn’t even realize what Kayls has taken from her closet to wear until they’re all climbing into Will’s backseat. “Oh my god, what are you wearing?”
“They’re literally yours!” Kayls snaps back and that’s not a lie, but it’s not what Aub’s got issue with either. It’s the absurdly clashing patterns in her leggings and oversized long-sleeve.
“I never wear them together.”
“That’s because your fashion sense is basic a-f.” Kayls pronounces each letter individually and Aub knows, she knows that Will and Auston are laughing at the look of disbelief on her face, even if she can’t see them. “You should take some tips from Will; his is on point.”
“Thanks, Kayls!” Will beams at her through the rearview mirror.
Aubrey ignores him. “Will’s homeless, that’s why he dresses like that.” She deadpans, which he protests immediately even as Auston cracks up.
“You’re not homeless.” Cam says to her, and it’s the fake innocent thing that does it for Aub. “Will could live with you.”
Aub pulls a face even as Auston just laughs even harder and Cam stares at her like she’s waiting for an actual answer. “Walked right into that one.” She mutters to herself, as Will meets her eyes in the mirror. He’s fighting back a grin; she can see the laughter in his eyes. “Will, coffee at the next Tim’s, please?” She’s going to need one to get through this.
Will’s full on grinning now, but he pulls off at the next exit in search of coffee and hands over his credit card before she can even object. The rest of the ride to her brother’s house feels like it passes in a flash, Kayls and Cam tumbling out of the car to greet Luke practically before Will’s even put it in park.
The only thing that stops Aubrey from having a complete heart attack is the immediate sense of calm she feels from no longer calling herself in charge. Luke’s here; he can deal with this shit now.
She feels Will laughing at her as they exit the car. “I thought you’d be more nervous.” He says, as they walk toward her brother, side by side, with Auston.
She snickers. “For what?” And then leans herself into Luke for a hug. “Hi!”
“Jesus, what’d you give them before you brought them here?” Luke returns the hug.
“Literally anything that would shut them up.” She says, dead serious, and then introduces Will, and Auston, almost as an afterthought.
Luke is friendly and welcoming, like she knew he would be. They’ve never had the overprotective sibling relationship she hears about from people. They’re too close in age, only a year apart in school; or too close in general, sharing too much as they grew up shuffled to their dad and stepmom’s every other weekend for their court-mandated time. She’s never doubted that he has her back, but he lets her live her life, no matter how stupid the decisions she might make (though he’s certainly not shy about telling her when he thinks she making one).
“Fitz and Steph and Mitch here yet?” She wonders, as they walk inside, the chatter between her sisters and sister-in-law already evident.
“Running late.” Luke says. “But Ryan’s upstairs sleeping. He stayed last night.”
She grins at him, contemplating running up to wake him, but in the end decides against it, settling for following the sound of her sisters’ voices into the kitchen. Rachel’s standing at the counter, setting out snacks and listening patiently as Kayls and Cam detail their entire weekend to her.
“-Will got us tickets for Saturday’s game-”
“-we ate at this amazing sushi place-”
“Rach!” Aubrey interrupts, tugging her sister-in-law away from Kayls and Cam, who are talking over each other. “Come meet Will.”
Rachel sends her a grateful look and immediately turns her bright smile at Will and Auston, introducing herself to them both and offering them drinks. By the time that she, Luke, and Aub finish getting drinks for everyone, Ryan’s coming downstairs, rubbing a hand over his face sleepily, and the introductions begin all over again.
Then Aubrey and Steph’s parents come in with her two youngest brothers, which cues another round of that, and then finally, Steph, Mitch, and Fitz roll in, which has Aubrey cackling when Auston leans over and whispers. “You didn’t tell us your brother is Little Fred?”
“What the fuck are you on?” She frowns at him, but Will’s got the same look on his face.
Will nods over at Fitz, the stepbrother who’d been in the same grade as her growing up and one of her best friends for about as long as she could remember. Said brother is currently trying to mess up Cam’s hair with one hand, while fighting one of her triplets, Tye, for the last danish. “He’s come out with us a few times, I guess with Mitch? He looks like Fred.” She gives the two of them a look. Literally the only thing her brother and their goalie have in common is red hair. Will shrugs. “Little Fred.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” She declares. “The bar is so low.”
“Must be.” Ryan nudges her side. She hadn’t even heard him come up beside her. “Dating you and all.”
She flips him off and he grins; Ryan’s actually the sibling closest in age to her, with the way all their birthdays work out, but from Luke to Ryan, all four of them are close and when Steph and her sister were added in there as well…well, the group chat gets chaotic.
“Hey!” Her mom snaps her fingers at them. “I don’t want to see any of that today.” And Aub can feel it in her face, the look she’s giving back to her mom, like certain that she’s not serious, because, honestly, has she met any of them? She peeks over at Ryan; he’s fighting back a laugh and that’s all it takes for her mom to lose it, the seriousness on her face quickly turning into a laugh.
It’s enough to get them all moving though, toward the wall they’re going to be tackling today, where they’re divided into teams by her stepdad and Steph’s dad, the only two who competently know what they’re doing.
“Ohhh!” Cam says immediately drifting towards the power saw. “Can I use this?”
Will pulls it away from her hands before she has the chance to even touch it and Aubrey’s calling out to her stepdad. “Mike! Are we stuck with these people all day?”
“Yes.” Her stepdad calls back; he’s already showing Tye and Danny how to demo their end of the wall.
Aub looks at Will and immediately mouths, “I’m sorry,” but he’s already loudly laughing at her. She kinda hates that he’s laughing at her, but she hates even more how contagious his laughter is.
-----
It’s a little past dinner time and Aubrey’s exhausted, too tired even to take her empty pizza plate to the kitchen trash can from where she’s sitting on the family room floor.
Around her, the rest of her family is in a similar state. Ryan’s actually asleep on one end of the couch, and on the other end, Auston’s half-heartedly grumbling at Derek Carr and the Raiders, while Steph’s lying across Mitch’s lap on the other side of the room. It’s about as quiet as they’ve all ever been, even Mitch and her sisters, which is how she knows they’re all exhausted.
Next to her, Will’s been quietly munching on a plate of fries since he finished his pizza a while ago. Aubrey reaches over and steals one from him. “Hey!” He protests.
“You’ve had the whole plate!” She thought she ate a lot; she honestly doesn’t know where he puts it all. “I just wanted a couple!”
“A couple?” Will repeats and Aubrey nods with a grin, reaching out and swiping another one from the plate. “Keep this up and we’re going to have to stop for second dinner on the way home.”
“I could probably eat again by then.” She rationalizes, stealing another.
Will laughs, sliding the plate over a few inches toward her, and Aubrey grins triumphantly. It’s quiet for a minute, or mostly quiet, the only sound for the next minute Auston moaning about a fumble, and Kaylee and Cam asking a question about it and then giggling to each other about it before they even get a full answer to it.
It’s Auston’s perplexed face that reminds her and she nudges Will as she goes in for another fry. “Hey.” She bumps him again, grabbing his attention. “Thanks.”
Will hums, sounding almost confused, and glances over at her. Every time Aubrey thinks it’s impossible for him to be more good looking, he proves her wrong; and always doing the most innocent things. He’s just looking at her, with this tiny little smile, but the light’s catching his eyes and they look impossibly blue and gentle, so soft like the rest of him does right now, in a way he almost never publicly is. “For what?”
“For putting up with my sisters all weekend and their increasingly ridiculous comments.”
Will laughs and he’s so close that she can feel the vibration. He’s leaning back against the wall again, but his head’s tilted a little, just barely leaning against hers, and Aub leans into it a little as he starts to talk. “My two youngest sisters play this game, every time we go to the airport, yeah? After we’ve said goodbye and everything. It’s like this competition between them, for who gets the last touch. And they’ll like chase me down as far as they can until I get to security, back and forth between the two of them…”
Aubrey’s already giggling, picturing the scene. “Same shit, different day,” She summarizes the weekend.
He flicks his finger across her nose and she giggles again. “Bingo.”
-----
It’s only when they’re back in the car and on the highway back toward Toronto after stopping for sushi for a second dinner that Auston says, sounding entirely too casual to actually be casual, “So, like, what’s really going on here with you two?”
Aub feels her stomach drop and it takes everything in her not to look at Will, who of fucking course, plays it enitrely cool. “What do you mean?”
Auston leans forward, from the middle seat in the back, which he’d generously offered to take so that she could sit up with Will even though she’d insisted he’d want the leg room up front; she’s starting to wonder if there was more to it than that. He gestures between the two of them. “It’s just, like, not how you usually are with girls.”
Will’s head whips back to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He demands.
“Will!” Aubrey hisses. “Eyes on the road.”
Auston’s cackling as Will turns his attention back to driving, but continues to eye him up through the rearview mirror. Aubrey twists in her seat; she can still stare him down. “So anyway,” He continues. “There’s that. And then, I mean, I was in the car with him when you literally texted him your apartment number. That was pretty sketch.”
Aub swings her gaze over to Will. “It came over Bluetooth.” He defends.
She pats his thigh. “Stick with hockey, kay?”
He laughs, and when she looks back at Auston, he’s laughing too, but he’s also got this thoughtful look on his face. “So anyway, what’s going on?” He presses.
“Steph and Mitch.” She says finally, after exchanging another look with Will.
“Ah.”
“That’s it?” She frowns at him. “That’s all you have to say?”
“Well, I mean, I’m sure there’s more to it, but like, I have met them before.” Auston grins when she and Will both laugh. “So what’d they do now?”
“Do you have an hour?” Will drawls.
“I have beer upstairs.” Auston offers, since they’re basically pulling up to his apartment, and since Will looks over at her for confirmation, Aub barely even takes a second before agreeing.
“Any wine?”
-----
It’s actually kind of crazy how relieving it is for someone else to know about her and Will, outside of the two of them. Aubrey hadn’t even realized how much it was weighing on her until it’s not, until the three of them had spent three hours laughing about it, recapping the entire thing and then just laughing about nothing.
She notices right away that it's equally relieving to Will, that the two of them will drift over to Auston when the team does something together, or that she’ll get a snapchat from one of them from the road that features Will and Auston off doing something ridiculous.
Steph calls her out on it one day, when the two of them are at a game one night. “I did not introduce you to Will for the two of you to spend time with Auston.”
“You ditched me last night!” Aubrey protests, but really, Steph’s not wrong. That was one time, because Mitch’s brother wanted to introduce his new girlfriend to them, and she’s been out here avoiding invites like it’s her job.
Steph continues like she didn’t hear a thing. “I introduced you to Will so that we could have great couples’ friends and hang out all the time, so why aren’t we?”
“I thought you introduced me to Will because we’d be perfect together?” Aubrey bitches and Steph gives her a look, so Aubrey promises that she and Will will do dinner with her and Mitch again soon.
Dinner soon, to Steph, apparently means that weekend, and Aubrey finds herself in Will’s car again, with a bottle of wine and a plate of dessert, driving out to Etobicoke on Friday night. “I like that I’ve claimed this seat now.”
Will laughs. “What?”
“It’s always set where I want it to be!” She grins. “Perfect leg room!”
Her phone buzzes as Will laughs again, but it only takes a quick glance at the screen to click back out of it. “You okay?” Will asks.
“Huh?”
“You just got real quiet, real quick.” He says, turning onto Steph and Mitch’s street. “Everything alright?”
Aubrey huffs out an aggravated breath, trying to decide what, if anything, she wants to say. “My other dad is being...my other dad.”
“Oh?” Will parks in their driveway and she huffs out another annoyed sigh as her phone buzzes in her pocket, knowing it’s just her half-brother again with more shit about their dad.
“He’s like…” She gathers her stuff and tries to find the words as they walk inside. “I don’t even know. Everybody’s been freaking out since some lady tagged him in a bunch of pictures on Facebook last week but my siblings are at dinner with him right now and they asked him about it and he told them he’s not seeing anyone.”
“Wait, seriously?” It’s the first thing Steph says to her; Aub’s been bitching to her about the whole thing for a week now and she’s more than familiar with her issues with her dad.
“Yes!” She cries. “My sister asked if he was seeing anyone, he said no. I guess one of the boys asked if he’d taken any trips lately, because of the pictures, and he said no. So he’s just straight up lying and I don’t know why!”
“Maybe,” Will says. “He’s not actually lying.”
Aubrey pats his arms gently. “You’re new here, so I’ll let that terrible thought pass.”
Will looks taken aback but she can barely spare a thought for that as Mitch says, “Maybe he got secret-married again and is just waiting until you’re all there to tell you-OW!” Steph elbows him hard and he grins anyway. “What? I’m just saying!”
“I already went to therapy once this week, Mitchy.” Aub mock-glares at him. “I cried for three hours and only didn’t dye my hair blue because Steph came to pick me up for the game. I don’t need to go again. Keep that shit to yourself and get me some wine.”
Mitch laughs; he’s equally familiar with her post-therapy routine and her feelings for her dad. “Alright fine.” He says, but there must still be something on her face because Will’s hand comes to rest on her shoulder right after that and he rubs it gently for a minute before he comes to sit next to her.
Conversation turns lighter after that- to Mitch’s brother’s new girlfriend, who Steph liked and Mitch thought was only okay and then to Will’s sister’s new boyfriend, who he hates-before they’re all more focused on food and a game later in the evening.
It’s easy to ignore her phone buzzing when Aubrey and Mitch are dominating Steph and Will at Codenames (or calling cheaters, because Will and Steph most definitely are), but much harder to ignore in the car when she and Will are alone again, and Aub barely even notices when Will doesn’t make the turn for her place, instead just driving straight to his place.
“Oh.” She says quietly when he finally parks and they’re in the garage, instead of just pulling up out front of her building, like he has been recently.
“Didn’t want you to dye your hair blue tonight.” Will deadpans and Aubrey laughs, surprised that it’s kind of watery.
“Fair, it was definitely a risk.”
Will smiles at her gently. “I’ve been told my guest room is supremely comfortable.”
Aubrey raises her eyebrows; she can siphon out the source of that one. “I hear your brother has pretty shitty taste.” She says and he laughs, that loud one he’s got that she can’t help but smile at because it sounds so ridiculous, but Aubrey’s already getting out of the car, ready to follow him up before he can see.
Will’s condo is pretty much everything she expected- a lot of modern pieces, a lot of white, very Scandanavian- but there’s plenty of Will in it as well. A lot of family pictures. Some hockey stuff-both Leafs and Team Sweden-but not an overwhelming amount.
She’s still looking at some of the pictures (he looks so much like his mom) when he returns with a couple glasses of wine, and she accepts hers with a gracious smile. “Thank you.”
“We’ve been at this long enough for me to know that wine’s your thing.” He jokes and she laughs.
“I meant for bringing me here.” She shoves at his shoulder; annoyingly enough he doesn’t even move. “I definitely would have done something stupid.”
“What are friends for?” Will smiles and there’s that annoyed feeling again, maybe even more so than just a minute ago, tugging at her stomach, for really no reason. They are friends now, in pretty much every sense of the word. They hang out, they text, they do all kinds of things. It’ll actually probably be hard for her, to not be friends with him, or at least pretend to be, when they have to “break up” for a bit to annoy Steph and Mitch.
“Yeah.” Aubrey says and it just sounds off so she takes a sip of her wine right away so he can’t see whatever her face is doing. “If you were really my friend, you’d let me borrow some sweats to sleep in. You know. Since you kidnapped me to bring me here.”
“Ohh, I don’t know if we’re that close.” Will says, but he’s laughing as he walks toward his room so she knows he’s kidding.
It’s a pretty quiet night between the two of them once they make themselves comfortable, just chilling on the couch and watching Netflix, and Will’s not stingy with his pours so Aubrey pours herself into his guest room a little tipsy, and maybe that’s why she texts him from bed. You were right, your guest bed is pretty comfortable.
*Supremely* comfortable. Told you so 😜
-----
Aub’s still in Will’s absurdly comfortable guest bed when her daily FaceTime call with her sisters comes in and she answers it without thinking. “Hey.”
“Where are you?” Kaylee asks immediately. “That’s not your room-oh my god, are you at Will’s?” She blurts and Aubrey wants to smack herself.
“That’s Leafs stuff!” Cam exclaims, popping her head into the frame. “You never wear Leafs stuff! Oh my god, do you live there now?”
“Back up, calm the crazy.” She’s cutting off this spiral before they’ve got the story of her and Will eloping spread to her entire family.
Kayls pouts. “You never let us have any fun.”
“I do not want a call from Grandma this afternoon asking me why I got married to the blond hippie from the Leafs because you two can’t keep your mouths shut and she saw one bad picture.”
Cam’s jaw drops in outrage. “That’s so rude, we would at least send a good picture out! Like she’d know how hot he really is; there’d be no need to google and accidentally come across a picture of him in a Sugo hat.”
That’s it. She’s up for good now. Aubrey throws the blankets off herself and sits up off the edge of the bed, rubbing her temples in hopes it’ll make her tiny hangover headache go away. Limited success. “You googled him?”
“Of course we googled him!” Kayls says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Aub, oh my god, he’s got-”
“I’m leaving this room right now.” Aubrey warns; she’s already at the door. “Stop talking about him like he’s not here.”
Cam immediately launches into a story about a couple of the girls on her field hockey team and something that had happened at practice after school yesterday, a story that she’s still detailing when Aubrey walks into the kitchen to find Will also looking into his phone with a fond look on his face as a loud jumble of voices shout back to him in what she can only assume is Swedish.
“Coffee’s back there.” He points, greeting her with a smile. “And mugs above it.”
“Thank you.” She’s pretty sure, from the expression on his face, that he knows how much of a lifeline that’s about to be for her.
“Hi Will!” Kayls calls and Aub glares at her, but Will calls back a greeting in return before returning to Swedish, but definitely in an argumentative tone.
It’s a couple more minutes of that-listening to Will speaking in Swedish and going through her usual morning nonsense with her sisters-before Will lets out the smallest groan and then looks at her. “My sisters want to say hi.”
“Oh.” Aubrey says, surprised more than anything.
And before she can really say anything, Cam adds. “Yes! Then we can talk with Will!” Which is how she finds herself sitting next to Will with his dog curled in her lap, both their phones in front of them, speaking with her sisters and two of Will’s sisters.
It’s pretty much maximal chaos, but when they both end their calls a few minutes later, Aubrey’s still smiling as she runs her hand through the dog’s fur and Will’s laughing to himself. “Mmm, good luck to you.” Aub nudges him, easy enough to do since she’s still sitting flush up next to him. “When they’re in town next month. They’ve probably all followed each other on Instagram by now already. Best friends in no time.”
“Gonna be busy with games.” Will says weakly. “Practices, media things. Think it’s gonna be your problem.”
“Like hell.” She laughs, shaking her head when he joins in and doesn’t stop. “Oh my god, that was not that funny!”
“Just thinking of all the ways they’re going to torture us when they’re all together after they’ve spent the last month talking shit about us in a group chat.” Will says, somehow still laughing about that, because he’s literally the most chill person on the planet. Like of course he’s not even bothered by that.
“I don’t have enough food in me to deal with that thought.” Aubrey declares, laughing decidedly less at the thought of actually meeting Will’s family. In person. Where they’ll have to actually see her and see what a farce this is. “Feed me.”
Will shrugs. “Let me change and we’ll grab brunch.”
Aub looks down at the very large sweats she’s borrowed to sleep in. “We’ll stop first, yeah?”
“Depends on how hangry you are.” Will calls back, already walking away.
She pulls a face at his back at that one. She’s actually pretty hungry, but like, she’s not dumb enough to go out to brunch with him in a walk of shame. Not when there’s already a group chat forming about her on Instagram. She doesn’t need Leafs Twitter coming for her too.
-----
It’s easy to settle in a routine from there; meeting Mitch and Steph for dinner a few times, joining Steph for games and then leaving with Will for a second dinner after, and easily splitting off to spend time with her own family and friends or catching up with them when Will is off on road trips.
It’s so easy to settle into a routine like that, a relationship routine, that she lets herself get lulled into a false sense of security, the message from her dad catching her off guard completely one day.
“What’s wrong?” Will asks, when they’re at dinner after a game. It’s their thing now; pick a restaurant and grab some food right afterwards before he drops her off at home. It’s a nice way to wind down actually; she usually looks forward to it.
Tonight though, Aub has been uncharacteristically quiet since they met up and she was a downright bitch earlier when she and Steph were fighting about something. Like, she knows they’ll forget all about it tomorrow, but still. She owes her best friend coffee at the least. “Hmm?” She looks up at him, barely hearing his question.
“What’s wrong?” He repeats, giving her a look before she can fight him against answering.
She pushes her food around a little-very uncharacteristic for her, and she can tell even Will’s picked up on that. “My dad wants to meet us all for dinner this week, which means he probably did get secret-married again.”
“Oh.” Will makes a face and Aubrey returns it, laughing when he contorts his even worse. “And that’s-I mean-again?” He finally settles on and she nods, ready to drop this bomb.
“It’ll be wife number six, but secret wedding number three.” She says, delighting in the way his jaw drops. “This is just, like, what he does; he just announces he wants to have dinner with us and then shows up and is like and here’s my new wife, like it’s super casual, and then we all wonder why I need therapy when he’s out here hiding wives and families like it’s a fulltime job.” She finishes, only realizing how heated she is about it when she looks up to find Will staring at her with wide eyes.
“Um.” Will starts.
“Sorry.” Aub hastens, flushing.
“No!” Will says. “No, don’t apologize at all, you can, like, share whatever you want. I just...I got like half of what you just said.” He gives her an apologetic look. “Missing a big chunk of this story.”
“Right.” Aub nods, pretty proud of how calm she sounds. Dr. Seth is going to be so impressed with her next week. “Sorry. We haven’t talked about the two secret families he was hiding when I was growing up. Ok, I’ll back up.”
“He what?” Will cries, but Aub waves him off, diving into the whole history of her dad, her half-siblings, and her step-moms...as well as their various divorces.
“...and that brings us to now.” She takes a sip of her wine thoughtfully; Will has long since drained his and refilled. She’s pretty sure she didn’t miss anything. “And dinner that’s going to be an absolute disaster.”
“Do you want me to come?” Will offers.
“No!” She says immediately. That’s like-god, that’s the worst idea ever. They do not need to get her greedy father involved in this, who’d take one look at Will and see dollar bills. She’s accepted that she can’t change the way her dad treats her (after many years of therapy); she’s got another dad who loves her and it’s not fine the way her dad doesn’t remember her birthday or what she does for work or pretty much anything important about her, but it is what it is. But like, she’s not going to subject Will to it. “It’ll be-fine.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You think so?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “But thanks anyway.”
Will purses his lips. It’s clear that he doesn’t love that answer, but he doesn’t say anything more on the subject, asking her instead if she wants to split a dessert, as if he doesn’t already know the answer to that question, and Aub, grateful for the change in topic, even agrees to let him pick this time.
It’s a rare gift.
-----
Aubrey knows she had a little too much to drink at dinner with her dad, but she’s not so drunk that she can’t recognize that this is Will’s door she’s standing in front of, knocking loudly and repeatedly.
She has only a moment to contemplate that-that it’s here she chose to come to after yet another disaster dinner, instead of Steph’s or her brother’s or back home to her own place-before Will’s opening the door, the confusion passing quickly over his face when he realizes it’s her.
“Hey.” He beams and steps back, silently inviting her in, but Aub doesn’t want him to go further away from her. That’s why she came here. “Whoa, hey!” Will says, as Aub steps in the condo and presses herself against him. “Are you-” He lets out a strangled choke as she tiptoes up and loops her arms around the back of his neck. “-okay?”
“Peachy.” She says, pulling him down to kiss her.
It’s not really a great kiss; Will’s kissing her back for a moment, and then pulling back. “Wait-”
“No.” She whines, leaning in for another, and he does it again, caught up for a moment in kissing her, but then it’s like his thoughts catch up to him and he breaks it.
“Aub, we shouldn’t- we aren’t-”
And like why shouldn’t they? They’ve been doing this fake relationship for a while now and not able to hook up with anyone else because of it. He’s objectively the hottest person she’s ever seen. There’s no reason that’s coming to her right now that says she shouldn’t. “We’re friends now!” Aubrey says, running her palms over his shoulders. God, why weren’t they doing this the entire time? “Right?” And Will nods, slowly, but it’s a nod, “It’s fine, friends hook up all the time.”
“You really want this?” His thumb brushes her cheek as she nods and only then does he pull her back in for a kiss.
-----
If Aubrey thought Will’s guest bed was comfortable, it’s really got nothing on his actual bed. She rolls over, curling into the pillow a little more and opens her eyes to see the sliver of sunlight coming through catch the edge of Will’s face, that one piece of hair that’s sticking up that should be unattractive, but is totally not.
It’s really just unfair.
The sound comes from behind her and Aub jumps when she realizes it’s Will’s alarm going off. It seems like it barely even fazes him; he just reaches across her and silences it; his arm falling across her when he drags himself back.
“Hi.” She smiles.
“Hi.” Will laughs and it lights up his whole face; she can’t help the hand that comes up to trace over his features. “Come on, that’s not fair.
“What’s not fair?” Aubrey asks innocently, trailing her nails down his chest.
He groans. “I have to go. Skate.”
“You don’t have to go.” She pouts and he groans again.
“You’re making it really hard to have to.”
“Good.” Aubrey giggles, only stopping when Will shuts her up with a kiss.
“Really hard.” He repeats as she rolls her hips into his.
“Fine.” She sighs, flopping onto her back, and she knows the move does exactly as she’d intended when his eyes go right to her chest. “I guess I’ll just have to stay here in bed until you get back.”
“Please do.” He insists, leaning over to kiss her again. “Fastest skate ever.” Will promises.
“You can’t control that.” Aubrey reasons, even as Will’s shaking his head at her while he climbs out of bed.
“Fastest skate ever.” He repeats.
She can’t really confirm or deny that it is; but when he does return, pulling her out of a doze by jumping on top of her, there’s coffee on the table for her too. It’s cold by the time she gets to it.
-----
“You guys are being weird.” Steph comments one night, as Aub’s cheering after Will scores a tie-breaking goal.
“What?” Aubrey gives her a look. “What do you mean?”
“You and Will.” Steph says, like it should be obvious. “You’re like-” She breaks off, making a noise of frustration.
“You’re in the honeymoon phase.” Alannah supplies helpfully and Steph lights up.
“Yes!” She cries and Aubrey glares over at Alannah but she merely smiles back. “But it’s like, you’re back in it? Like, you weren’t for a while and now...you can’t take your hands off each other again!”
Aubrey doesn’t really know what to say to that. She’s not denying that she and Will have been all over each other ever since that first night they slept together. She can’t even remember the last time she went to her apartment for anything more than to pack clothes and she’s lost track of the number of times she’s reached out for him only to find Will already reaching for her.
But before? She can’t think of any moment where they were ever like they are now. Like there’s too much space between them even when she’s right next to him. Or this pull that brings her toward him no matter where he’s at.
But she doesn’t...she doesn’t know what to say about that. Because it’s not like anything has changed between them. They’re still friends; they still laugh and joke as usual, still gossip about their friends together, are still just waiting to drop a big break up on Mitch and Steph.
Nothing’s changed, even if maybe, she thinks, something has.
So she shrugs at Steph and says, “We’re just happy. Is that so bad?”
Steph beams and leans her head against Aubrey’s shoulder, and like, Aub knows that’s exactly what she’d been hoping for since she introduced her to Will, but Aubrey still feels like something wasn’t right about what she said.
-----
Aubrey tugs on the Nylander jersey that drapes over her frame as she and Will walk into the hospital conference room. “Are you sure about this?”
“It’s tradition.” He grins. “Stop playing with it.”
“That’s what she said.” She says as dryly as she can, managing to keep the face until he laughs, and then she cracks up with him.
That’s how the two of them walk into the conference room where the team is meeting; laughing so loudly that everyone stops what they’re doing to turn and look, but she and Will only get a bunch of fond smiles before everyone turns back to their own conversations.
Steph gives her a knowing look when they approach hand in hand, which Aubrey ignores pointedly. “You didn’t warn me we’d have to actually go things wearing this dumb jersey when you plotted to get us together.”
“Oh I didn’t?” Steph says innocently as Mitch and Will sputter in protest. “Must have slipped my mind.”
“Dumb jersey?” Will nudges her.
Aub shrugs, looking up at him with a cheeky grin. “It’s a little big. Might have some trouble getting out of this thing.”
Will grins. “I’m sure some help can be arranged.”
Mitch feigns gagging. “There are children around.”
Wills hand drags up her side briefly-too briefly- as he grins at Mitch. “Where, Mitchell?” But he backs off and Aub does too, both of them catching up with teammates and wives and girlfriends around them.
Or they back off a little, but Aub still finds herself drawn int0 his orbit, especially once they start splitting off into groups to move through the hospital to go see the kids. His hand will brush against hers as they move between rooms; she’s bumping her shoulder against his arm comfortingly as they talk with parents.
It’s not very subtle, but they don’t need to be. Except…
“What is going on?” Auston hisses at her, in passing, as he’s about to step inside the room Will’s just about leaving.
“Nothing.” Aub says innocently, but Will reaches for her hand when he leaves, opting for a fist bump with Auston instead, and Auston’s eyes widen, but Aubrey tugs Will along before he can say anything. “Come on, let’s grab some water real quick!”
The diversion doesn’t last long; Auston catches up to her only two rooms later while Will’s in talking hockey with a little girl and she’s waiting outside, leaning against the wall. He joins her, looking in as well for a moment, before looking over at her. “This is a terrible idea.” Auston says flatly.
“You were on board with it!” Aubrey hisses, trying to keep a smile on her face.
“That was before I realized you guys were sleeping together. Now it’s going to backfire and go to shit.”
Aubrey frowns. “Why?”
“Why?” Auston repeats, like he can’t even help himself. “Oh my god, you don’t even-” He stops abruptly.
“Don’t even what?” She prompts, when it’s clear he’s not going to continue.
But he doesn’t continue. He just rubs his temples for a minute and mutters under his breath. “Fuck me, how do I have to be the smart one here?”
“Hey!” Aubrey protests, offended. “I am always the smart one.”
“Not right now.” He says cryptically. “And it’s hard to tell who’s being dumber: you or Willy.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Aubrey frowns, but Auston’s already walking away. “Auston!” He ignores her. “Auston!”
“Hey.” Will’s reaching for her arm gently. “What’s wrong?”
Auston’s out of sight now anyway. “Nothing.” She shakes her head, clearing her thoughts and then looks up at him. “Next room?”
-----
“What are you doing Friday?” Aubrey looks up from scrolling through her family’s group chat; Will’s peering at her from across the island.
“Nothing.” She says, after thinking about it for a minute. “What’s up?”
“We play my brother on Saturday.” He says and the shoe doesn’t drop until he adds, “So my parents and sisters are coming in for a bit. Watch the game. Do early Christmas. Hang out a bit.”
“Oh.” She bites her lip. It shouldn’t-it shouldn't be weird. He survived a whole weekend with her sisters, he’s met her entire family; they’ve gone out a few times with varying numbers of her brothers since then. It just...feels weird now.
Will eyes her carefully for a second but continues. “They come in early Friday morning and I made dinner reservations for that night, if you want to come with us.”
He says it super casually, the way he is about pretty much everything, but she knows him well enough now. There’s a little hopeful tone at the end of it, almost like a question even though it’s not phrased as one. “Yeah.” She says, and even though she’s already nervous about this dinner that’s literally days away, it’s worth it to see the smile grow across his face. “I’d love to come with you guys.”
“They’ll be excited.” Will says, which really undersells just how excited his sisters actually are when they do roll into town later in the week.
Daniella throws herself at Aubrey the second she walks in the door, chattering excitedly about meeting her, and spending the weekend together, and dinner that night, all before Aubrey can even put her purse down. She doesn’t know what her face is doing but whatever it is is bad enough that Will says something to his sister in Swedish and follows it up with a glare when she giggles something back to him.
It works though; Daniella detaches herself, but she does stay close, almost bouncing along next to Aubrey as she steps further inside. “Come on.” Will nods toward the kitchen. “My parents are in here.”
Fuck, his parents. She takes a deep breath. “Cool.”
He grins. The panic must definitely be showing on her face, but his sister just keeps talking through it- Aubrey can relate- or Daniella just doesn’t notice it in her excitement. But Will does, still grinning at her, and she brushes against him purposefully with her shoulder as she goes to follow Daniella, only for him to grab her hand as she passes.
“You don’t have to be nervous.” He squeezes her hand and the only thing that stops her from frowning is his sister. It’s kind of a harsh reminder of the circumstances that she is meeting his family under, the details behind what’s happening here, and that someday-probably soon even- they’ll go back to...well, she hopes that they’ll at least still be friends.
Even if they stop hooking up.
Danielle goes right up to Stephanie in the kitchen, the two of them whispering to each other in a way that immediately reminds Aub of Kaylee and Cam, enough that she has to fight back a laugh. But it’s Will’s parents that really draw her attention. Michael and Camilla are exactly how she’d pictured from every story Will’s ever told her, full attention on her as soon as she and Will enter the kitchen.
“This is Aubrey.” Will introduces.
“Hi!” She smiles, hoping it’s bright and warm enough to hide her nerves.
And it works- or more likely, Will’s parents are as perceptive as he is- because they jump right into chatting easily with her.
She loves them immediately.
They’re warm and friendly, like they’re welcoming her, even though they’re the ones who spent hours on a plane recently. Will’s mom- Camilla, she insists- draws her into a conversation about her family right away- “William told me you have many siblings as well.” “Mum!” “Mum, they’re the best!”- which keeps them going for a while until Michael reminds them they have a reservation to keep.
“You can keep talking at the restaurant.” He teases Camilla, who’s glaring at him. “Some of us are hungry!”
She rolls her eyes at him- a look that is so similar to one Aubrey’s seen Will make a thousand times- but it serves to get all of them moving. They do keep talking at the restaurant, Camilla shoving her own son out of the way to pull Aubrey in the seat next to her, and Daniella sliding in the seat on her other side before Will can grab it, only for him to mutter something to her in Swedish, sending her quickly sliding over to the next one.
Dinner seems to fly by but it’s actually a few hours later that they’re returning home, pulling out a bottle of wine for a night cap. Aubrey’s just about preparing to go home to her own place before Will’s mom stands up and kisses the top of her head, right in line with all her own kids, promising to see her in the morning, and then the night wraps up and Will’s pulling her into his room, like it’s any normal night.
“Are you-” She trails off abruptly as Will walks right to the closet, like no strange thing. But, what did she even want to ask? Are you sure you want me to stay? It’s not going to be weird if I do?
“What’s up?” Will pops his head out of the closet.
“Nothing.” Aubrey shakes her head, moving to brush her teeth. She’s not even sure she knows where that question was going; she can’t explain why tonight feels weirder than any other night that she’s climbed into his bed before.
It does though, and that’s made even more evident by the way she tosses and turns once they climb into bed and turn the lights off, settling in on what’s become her side of the bed, right after she brushes her teeth and runs through her nightly skin routine.
It feels like it shouldn’t be so hard to sleep- it’s been a long day, following a long week, preparing for Will’s family to arrive, but she can’t seem to get comfortable and her thoughts are racing.
She rolls over again, facing Will this time, only to find him looking at her with amusement. “You okay?”
“Can’t sleep.” She admit, biting her lip
Will grins, pulling her close. “I can fix that.”
“I’m not having sex with you while you’re parents are here!” Aubrey hisses.
“No?” Her breath hitches as his fingers dance lower down her stomach and then-
“Will!” She laughs, as he gently pinches a ticklish spot.
“Shh!” He’s grinning, she hates him so much. “My parents are-”
“Don’t say it.” She says, surging up to kiss him so he can’t finish that sentence. God, she hopes his walls are thick.
-----
“Stop.” Aubrey hears Will right outside the door. “Go away.”
She can hear one of his sister’s respond, but the actual words get lost in the chaos of her own sisters’ FaceTime, which she’s wrapping up as she lies in bed. It’s loud enough outside that she knows Will’s family is awake already, bright enough that she probably should get up, but she’s too comfortable to make herself move.
“Daniella!” She hears, followed by something in Swedish just as the door opens and a blonde head pokes in.
“See! She is awake!” And that’s all the warning she gets before Daniella is jumping up right next to her.
“Daniella!” Will snaps again, but Aubrey’s already sliding over to make room for her.
“She’s fine.” She assures him, wrapping her arm around Daniella’s shoulders as she cuddles in close.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Daniella says to her brother, not bothering to pull herself away from Aubrey’s iPhone screen, where she’d barely wasted a minute before jumping into chatting with Kayls and Cam.
Will’s leaning against the dresser and shaking his head in amusement, watching as Aubrey manages to finish up her call (a task much harder with Daniella in her ear, calling just as much nonsense back as her sisters do), but there’s a soft smile on his face that Aubrey almost can’t bring herself to look at, so she starts twirling her hand through the ends of Daniella’s hair.
“I can’t believe you two.” Daniella huffs, and she’s so much like Will, just loving her hair played with; Aubrey tries to hide her grin because she knows he’d fight her on it if she had to say it out loud right now. “Not even inviting your sisters here for the weekend.”
“Why would we invite ourselves into that kind of roast?” Will says dryly. “The two of you are bad enough.”
“Like you’re not going to talk about us anyway,” Aubrey adds. “I’ve seen the receipts.” She teases. “I know you talk about us on instagram.”
“You talk about us on instagram?” Will demands immediately.
“No.” Daniella says, unconvincingly.
“They talk with my sisters every day.” Aubrey whispers to him and laughs when he turns his outraged face toward his sister, who avoids his gaze completely.
“Seriously?” Will cries.
Daniella shrugs. “We have a lot to say.”
“I’ll give you a lot to say.” Will says, mock-threateningly, before throwing himself on the bed on her other side and poking his finger in her side until she’s laughing so hard that she’s begging for him to stop. He does, after one last poke, which Daniella returns with a pout. “Go get dressed.” Will nudges her. “Or Aubrey’s going to go to brunch without you.”
“Aubrey wouldn’t do that.” Daniella says confidently, standing to leave. “She’s nicer than you.”
Will barks out a laugh. “Is she?”
Both Nylanders turn to look at her, just as she’s swinging her legs out of bed and Aubrey shrugs. “I wouldn’t leave your sister behind.” She says, grinning when Will laughs and Daniella’s got her phone out of her pocket before she even leaves the room.
-----
Will and Alex are close. Aubrey knows this. She knows they talk pretty much everyday whether it’s texting, Facetiming, or even actual phone calls. They’re brothers, sure, but more than that; they’re best friends.
And maybe that’s why it’s hard not to shrink under Alex’s gaze the second they meet. It’s not that he’s not friendly when Will introduces them, returning the smile she gives him.
It’s just that his gaze feels piercing in a way that none of the rest of his family did. It feels like Alex sees through all of her but more than that; he’s studying all of her and doesn’t like what he sees.
God, she doesn’t know what she’s going to do if Alex doesn’t like her.
She tries to be bubbly and bright, more listening than contributing to this conversation that’s mostly just brothers catching up. She knows that dinner later, and at their early Christmas celebration tomorrow, will really be when she gets to make her big impression on him.
“Willy!” John Tavares calls, looking apologetic about the interruption.
“Be right back.” Willy pats her arm gently before jogging down the hall and now Alex’s full attention is on her. Now she can’t help but shift her weight from foot to foot, even as Alex smiles at her. “So, Aubrey, huh?”
She fights back the urge to bite her lip. “Yup.”
“It’s exciting to finally meet you.” He grins and Aubrey’s jaw drops a little. “Will talks about you all the time.”
“He-he does?” She asks quietly. It’s about the most unexpected thing Alex could have said to her.
Alex bursts into laughter. “Uh yeah.” He says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but before she can press anything further, Will’s back, slinging his arm around her shoulders and squeezing her into his side tightly.
“Ready for second dinner?” Will presses a kiss to her temple.
“Always.” Aubrey leans into him, ignoring the knowing look that Alex is sporting currently and the feeling in her stomach that doesn’t quite feel like butterflies.
-----
Aubrey tries to give it a few days after the Nylander’s leave town, hoping the feeling in her stomach will calm itself, but when it’s been a week and it hasn’t settled, she’s forced to admit that she’s going to need outside help.
Can you let me in? She sends, when she’s sure she’s outside the right door.
Open. Come in.
She frowns at the response, opening the door. “I don’t love that!” She calls as she walks deeper in the condo. “You should really-” She stops abruptly, as a blonde whips her head around to glare at her and Auston stares at her wide-eyed. “Oh!”
“Oh?” The blonde repeats, kind of mockingly, but also seething, and Aubrey doesn’t really know what to do, so she looks over at Auston, who’s pointedly avoiding both of their eyes. “Unbelievable.” She shakes her head, shoving past Aubrey and only when the front door slams does she hear Auston breathe.
“What the fuck?” She asks him immediately, “You could have just said no, it wasn’t a good time to come over!”
“I wanted her to leave!” He protests. “I tried everything! She even volunteered to come take Felix on a walk with me!”
Aubrey cackles, barely managing to compose herself at Auston’s glare. “Well, go and get his leash. We can walk and talk.”
She gets quickly distracted by Felix’s excitement for a walk, snapping like twenty pictures on her phone, before Auston finally prods her about the reason she even wanted to meet today. “So what’s up?”
She takes a deep breath. “Am I in love with Will?”
“Are you in love with...are you fucking kidding me?” Auston responds immediately, looking at her like he had that day they were at Sick Kids- like she’s completely missing something that everyone else knows.
“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” She says reasonably.
“Oh my fucking god.” He says, sounding distressed. “Don’t you have, like, a therapist for this shit? How did I get drafted for this?”
“I mean, yes, I do, but I haven’t gone into the details of it with Dr. Seth before this and I don’t think an hour would cover it.” She says; she’s thought about that already. Auston rubs his temples. “Stop that.” Aubrey chides. “Your hairline is bad enough.”
“Well you’re not helping!” Auston cries. “Jesus Christ, am I in love with Willy? Where the fuck have you been?”
“Egypt, I guess.” She says and he stares at her flatly until she explains. “Denial?”
“Fuck off, I hate you so much. Oh my god.” He groans. “Willy would have laughed so hard at that, fuck you.”
The worst thing is that she knows he would have. He’d have laughed and laughed and laughed, his eyes crinkling and his smile bright and warm, so loud that she couldn’t help but join in.
“Holy shit.” Auston says quietly, watching the smile on her face. “You’re really in deep.”
“Ugh, yes.” Aubrey groans, covering her face. “I hate it. I hate these feelings. I hate not knowing. I hate-”
Auston cuts her off, choking out a laugh. “Not knowing? Not knowing what?” And then he chokes again, once he looks over at her. “Not knowing if Will-” He stops abruptly looking like he’s got a secret that he shouldn’t be telling. “Come on, you aren’t this dumb.”
“You’re being serious?” She says quietly, looking over at Auston hopefully.
He avoids her eyes, bending down for a minute to pet his dog, but Felix absolutely betrays him by trying to run towards a new smell on a nearby bush, giving him absolutely nothing to look at instead of her. “I mean, come on.” Auston gives her a look. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Did he say it?”
“No.” Auston shakes his head, tugging gently on Felix’s leash to turn around. “But Aub, really? He brought you to meet his whole family.”
“He met mine too.” She reminds him. “And so did you!”
Auston shakes his head. “You...you just don’t see how he looks at you.”
Aubrey bites her lip, but she can’t resist asking. “How does he look at me?”
Auston doesn’t even have to think before he responds. “Like the rest of us aren’t even in the room.”
“Oh.” She says quietly, looking down at the ground. Felix is just trotting away happily, like Aubrey’s entire world hasn’t been flipped on its axis.
Auston, at least, seems to recognize the effect of what he’s said. “Look, even if you’re not ready to talk with him, just, like, look at the guy. You’re not in this alone.”
She’s definitely not ready to say anything, but, well, she could give that a try. Just try and see what Auston sees.What everyone sees apparently. “Alright.” She agrees.
“I won’t say anything.” Auston adds. “You two can figure this mess out on your own.”
“You’re the best.” Aubrey declares, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
“I know.” Auston smirks, pulling Felix’s leash out from under her feet.
“Jerk.” Aubrey laughs, shoving his shoulder gently. “If you didn’t have the second best dog in the world right here, I’d push you harder.” She crouches down to scratch Felix’s ears, only for Auston to pull him out of her reach.
“Second best?” He cries, outraged. “Nuh-uh. You don’t get to pet my dog after that kind of disrespect.”
“I just ranked your dog above Zeus!” She protests. “But Pablo’s my boy.”
Auston releases his hold on the leash a little and Felix trots over toward her arms as he teases, “I thought we just agreed Willy was your boy.”
“Yeah, well,” Aubrey scratches behind Felix’s ears, smiling as his tongue lolls out. “Man’s best friend.”
-----
Will’s acting funny when Aubrey sees him the next day.
She only catches him for a few minutes before the game, when they briefly cross paths at his place when she goes to pick up a jacket she left there, and she doesn’t know how to explain it, but something just seems...off.
It’s like...he barely looks at her when she’s in there digging around what’s become her side of the bed and then he brushes past her, muttering something about how he needs to go and for her to just lock up whenever she’s done, which would be fine, except he usually waits for her if she’s around when he leaves so they can walk out together.
Something’s just off.
“Are you sure you didn’t fight about anything?” Steph frowns at her, later that night. “Even like a small, stupid thing that maybe you brushed off? Because you do that.”
“No!” Aubrey swears. “At first I thought he was just annoyed about the book, because the book I’m reading right now takes place in Sweden, so like every few pages I ask him if it’s real? Or what it’s like?”
“God, you must be the most annoying girlfriend.” Steph giggles.
“Don’t even, I know everything about you and Mitch.” Aubrey pokes her and Steph giggles again, admitting defeat. “But no! He wouldn’t even look at me! Something’s up!”
Steph purses her lips. “That is weird.” She admits. “It’s very...not Will.”
“No!” Aubrey cries. “Will doesn’t sit and let things stew! He doesn’t care enough about what people think about him for that.”
“So why is he acting like this then?” Steph asks and Aubrey blows out a frustrated breath.
“I don’t know!” She says. “And I just want him to tell me what’s going on.”
The rest of the game is fairly uneventful for the two of them, slipping quietly out of their seats after the win and chatting between themselves and a few other friends as they all wait. One by one, the boys all make their way out of the locker room, and Aubrey frowns as even Auston and John walk out, stopping briefly to chat with her, before even they go, until finally, finally, Will steps out, his face flickering when he sees her.
“Hi?” She says, a little annoyed.
“Hi.” Will says, like nothing’s just happened, like he didn’t just do a double take of the worst kind at her mere presence.
“What’s wrong?” She frowns, reaching out for him and gently sliding her hand on his forearm.
“Nothing.” There’s no other word for it; Will flinches.
“Will.” Aubrey breathes as he shrugs off her arm.
“It’s nothing.” He repeats. “I’m just tired.” Which is so clearly a lie and she frowns, ready to call him out, but he reaches for her hand and says, “Let’s go eat,” with such finality that she doesn’t really know how she’d bring it up.
All she knows is that his hand feels cold in a way it never has before and the silence they sit in at dinner is like nothing she’s ever felt with him, even before they started sleeping together.
-----
“Merry Christmas!” Cam throws open the front door dramatically before Aubrey, Will, Steph, and Mitch have barely even shut their car doors. “Come on, you’re late!”
“Oh boy.” Aubrey mutters and she hears Steph and Mitch laugh.
Will, however, is as quiet as he’s been all drive up to her parents for their annual Christmas Eve party- as quiet as he’s been all week, as he’s been since whatever happened- and it makes her wonder why he even came. She’d told him he didn’t have to come if he didn’t want to; he’d just given her this tiny smile and asked her what time they had to pick up Mitch and Steph.
“How are we late?” Steph asks, as all four of them start yanking off coats and scarves the second they walk in the door. “None of the neighbors are even here yet!”
Cam huffs at that bit of logic and turns on her heel, walking away from them as they laugh, which cues Aubrey’s brothers into their arrival. Tye and Danny poke their heads around the corner of the wall, calling for Mitch immediately to show them how to do something on a new video game, but right away they’re thwarted by their mom. “Later.” Mitch whispers to them, as Tye and Danny grin, following the four of them into the kitchen.
In the kitchen, they find Aubrey and Steph’s moms working in tandem- the way they always have on Christmas Eve- to finish the appetizers and set food out. They stop only briefly to greet their daughters and their daughters’ boyfriends, and to direct them on where to put the desserts they brought, before they’re shooing them all right back out.
“Dads in the basement?” Steph asks, like they all don’t know the answer already, and Danny nods, leading the way down the stairs, where Fitz and Ryan have already started a beer pong game against Mike and Tom.
“Shotty next.” Mitch calls, while he waits for Aubrey and Steph to say hi to their dads.
“You gonna be able to walk back next door?” Fitz snorts out a laugh.
“That was one time!” Mitch protests. “Nobody warned me how much drinking there was on Christmas Eve!”
“It’s like we hadn’t spent the last four months together before that.” Aubrey deadpans, focusing more on watching Will greet her stepdad with the same enthusiasm as he had her mom, and her brothers, and Cam.
But then, he comes back to her side, and when she goes to tangle their fingers together, his hand stays limp, just kind of letting her do what she wants, not returning the gesture at all, instead of pulling her closer like he used to.
“Guess I thought you two were the anomaly.” Mitch teases. “Then I learned I’d have to bring my A game all the time.”
“Yeah buddy.” Tom says, looking over at his daughter’s boyfriend right after he sinks Fitz and Ryan’s last cup. “Who’s with you?”
-----
By the time Mitch and Will get demolished in beer pong, Aubrey and Steph are fighting back a laugh at their dads’ light buzz already going and the neighbors have started to arrive, which brings a temporary pause to pong play for more introductions.
The neighbors all love Will, which, of course they do. Aubrey’s not surprised at all. He’s funny and charming and personable, just has this air that draws people in, and every one of her mom’s friends finds her at some point after they meet Will to gush about how wonderful he is.
“Yeah.” Aubrey says, almost helplessly to Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Morris, as she watches Will with Kayls and Cam across the room. “He’s pretty great.” They smile knowingly at her, Mrs. Jones winking as she passes, leaving Aubrey to watch them with a fond smile on her face.
It’s Will who notices her staring first, because of course it is. Kayls and Cam are oblivious to everything around them. He catches her eye, still laughing about whatever they’re talking about, and there’s a second where his smile grows when he sees her, a second Aubrey feels a grin growing across her own face.
And then it all stops abruptly as something flashes over Will’s face, and as quick as the grin was there, it’s gone.
Aubrey frowns and watches as Will returns to talking with Kayls and Cam again, but notices the smile on his face seems forced now. She wants...well, she doesn’t know exactly what she wants, but she’s tired of not knowing what’s going on with him.
“Hey.” Fitz nudges her shoulder. “It’s too early for you to be sad about going to your dad’s tomorrow. Come take a shot with me.”
“I-” It’s not that. She starts to say, but stops herself. Today’s not the day to try and tease out whatever’s going on with Will. Whatever it is could wait until after Christmas. “Yeah, sure.”
Fitz grins, leading her over to the makeshift bar, corralling a few friends as they go, but by the time he starts pouring, the crowd around them has gotten bigger. Will’s standing next to her, but the space he’s left between them feels so purposeful, and it only makes Aubrey frown as she listens to Fitz’s Christmas toast, as he cheers to a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, to good friends and great family. “And a way too cool future brother-in-law.” He jokes. “Don’t fuck this up, Aub!”
“Yo!” Mitch protests loudly as Aubrey feels the breath get stuck in her chest.
She can’t even look at Will, so tense she can hardly bring her shot glass up to her mouth. The alcohol barely even burns and she knows it’s not because she’s too drunk to taste it; the numbness of her brother’s comment still stinging, and it’s well after she’s deposited her shot glass on the counter that she realizes, “Where’s Will?”
Mitch frowns, looking behind them. “He was right here, wasn’t he?”
Aubrey nods slowly, trying to stand on her toes and search for him. “Can you just-” She starts.
Steph’s right on her wavelength. “You look up here; we’ll check downstairs.”
Will is nowhere to be found on the main floor, so she heads upstairs and finally finds him in the room they’d thrown their bags in earlier. “Hey.” She breathes out a sigh of relief. “There you are.”
“Here I am.” Will says quietly. He’s in front of the taller dresser, looking at the bulletin board covered in pictures from high school and college- one of the few relics left in the room from when it was hers before her mom refashioned it into a guest room.
“I’m sorry about Fitz!” She blurts. “He didn’t mean any-”
“We should be wrapping up soon, right?” Will says abruptly, interrupting her.
“What?” Aubrey frowns, shocked. That is...not at all what she thought he’d say.
“This?” He gestures between the two of them. “Like, Mitch and Steph definitely think we're a thing. Can call this off soon?”
“Um.” Aubrey tries to breathe but something’s definitely restricting that ability. “We…what?”
“We can stop this pretending.” Will says, like it’s obvious, and Aubrey feels her stomach drop. This...this was all pretend to him. “Do that break up that’s going to crush them. The whole reason we did this.”
“Right.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “Uh yeah, we can do that.”
Will shrugs. “Cool.” He says, and then turns and walks away, leaving Aubrey standing there wondering where exactly she went wrong.
-----
“Ok.” Steph snaps her fingers and only then does Aubrey look up from the Leafs vs. Calgary game that her best friend invited her over to watch that she’s paying absolutely no attention to- and hasn’t actually been able to focus on all night. Her best friend is standing in front of her, holding a new bottle of wine, and looking concerned. “I’ve asked for your glass like four times now. What’s going on?”
Aubrey bites her lip and holds her glass out. If she’s going to do this, they’re both going to need refills. “I have to tell you something.”
Steph frowns immediately but fills Aubrey’s glass and then her own. “Uhh, ok? What’s up.”
Aubrey doesn’t know whether she needs a deep breath or a sip of wine to settle her nerves. She goes for both. “Will and I aren’t together.”
And maybe...maybe that was the wrong way to phrase it, because Steph’s face just falls. “I’m so sorry, babe.” She says, reaching out and rubbing Aubrey’s arm. “I really thought-” She shakes her head and Aubrey’s still trying to figure out what she said wrong, what she can say to make her see what she really means. “Are you okay?”
“No.” Aubrey says and Steph looks like she wants to reach for the wine bottle and pull her in for a hug at the same time, until she continues. “No, I mean; Will and I aren’t together now because we were never really together at all and no, I’m not okay either, actually, now that you mention it.”
Now Steph frowns uncertainly, like she doesn’t know what to say. And that look? The one on her face right there? If it didn’t feel like her heart was already breaking, she’d be cherishing that look.
Now she can’t even enjoy it.
“You’re going to have to explain this one to me.” Steph says, her voice carefully neutrally.
So Aubrey does- beginning with the night that Mitch and Steph had had them over and her and Will’s plan to get them to stop nagging, to when they’d started sleeping together, to how it felt like they were together for real and on the same page, right up until they weren’t.
“I wanna be so mad at you right now.” Steph says, after a long silence.
“You should be.” Aubrey admits. “I would be.
“Well, you’re making it really hard looking so sad.” Steph glares. “And being so dumb.” Aubrey’s jaw drops, even if the callout is probably well deserved. “Will looks at you like you are the center of the universe. He looks like his entire day has gotten better every time you walk into the room. For God’s sake, he willingly met your dad on Christmas last week! You cannot honestly tell me you think he doesn’t really want to be with you!”
“He told me he wanted to stop!” Aubrey cries. “He was the one who said we should do the breakup!”
“Well if you don’t want to, then tell him!” Steph dares.
“Stephanie.” Aubrey frowns.
“What?”
“I can’t do that!” Aubrey hisses.
“Why not?” Steph pours another glass of wine for herself and then passes the bottle over. Aubrey accepts eagerly. “Did Will tell you why he wanted to stop this...dating thing?”
“...no.” Aubrey sighs. It’s another thing that’s been driving her crazy.
“So ask him.” Steph says plainly. “And tell him you don’t want to stop.”
Aubrey bites her lip nervously. “But what if he says no?”
“Honestly the worst thing that happens here is that you still break up.” Steph says gently. “But this really just sounds like a matter of you two actually needing to talk about where you stand. Will’s not a mind-reader, Aub; he can’t have known you didn’t want to stop things, especially if this was all your idea in the first place.”
Ugh, she’s right. “I hate everything about this.” Aubrey sing-songs. “Including the fact that you even introduced us.”
Now Steph grins. “You do not hate that we introduced you. You just hate feeling vulnerable.”
That’s too accurate to address, so Aubrey flips her off and reaches for the wine again.
-----
Will picks her up for the Leafs annual New Year’s Eve party and it’s unfair because no one should look that good dressed in black pants and a sweater, but there’s Will waiting by the car with a beanie on his head and a pea coat left open, for maximal torture is the only reason Aubrey can think of.
“Hi.” She breathes, running across the street to him as best she can in her heels.
It takes him a second to respond. “Hi.” He says finally, opening the door for her. “You uh, planning on blinding us all tonight?” He teases, once he slides into the backseat of the uber with her.
Aubrey giggles at the lame joke as she looks down at her glittery skirt. It’s such a lame joke but she’s just so relieved he even made it. That they still have dumb things to laugh over. “Hmm, over-under on how many of us are wearing something sparkly tonight. 10?”
“Over.” Will answers immediately and she giggles again.
The ride doesn’t take long so it’s only a few minutes before they’re pulling up to the club, where they run into Travis Dermott and his girlfriend exiting their uber at the same time. “Nine more.” Will whispers in her ear, as Kat turns to greet them, and they both catch sight of a sparkly tank under her jacket.
“Hush.” Aubrey bites back a laugh, but only barely, before she pulls Kat in for a hug. Inside is about as loud as she’d expected but once they all step upstairs into the VIP section roped off for them, it’s easier to hear, easier to think, and easier to breathe.
Or at least, it is for a moment. She can feel Will’s eyes on her from across the room, where he’s at the bar ordering drinks for the two of them, and she and Kat have gone to say hi to more people.
“So, uh.” Steph says, in lieu of hello. “I don’t think Will’s being weird anymore.”
When Aubrey turns and follows Steph’s eyes, Will’s still looking at her, unashamed in his gaze or getting caught. He winks back at her, grinning when she smiles at him. “No.” She says slowly. “I guess not.” Steph just grins at that, kind of smugly, and Aubrey huffs at that, turning away to greet Morgan and Tessa behind her.
It’s not long before Will returns with drinks, still grinning as he pulls her immediately to the dance floor. He pulls out some of his most ridiculous moves and Aubrey laughs, harder and harder the more she drinks, and then finally falling against him after he and Mitch attempt the Toosie Slide together.
“Why are you laughing?” Will demands, wrapping an arm around her waist and taking her hand, leading her into some weird kind of slow dance, even as the song changes into something by The Chainsmokers.
“I just like seeing you like this.” She grins.
His brow furrows. “Like what?”
“Just-” She doesn’t know how to explain it. How open he is right now, how loose and easy and warm he looks because he’s just able to be himself, and how happy she feels to be with him, especially when he’s like this. “Just happy, I guess.”
Will grins again and presses a loud kiss to her temple, that she barely has time to giggle at, because he says, “Always happy to be with you,” like it’s the most casual thing in the world.
And Aubrey gasps in shock, but she doesn’t think Will even notices, because he’s dipping her back over his arm right after that and then she’s too busy laughing again.
-----
Steph flops down on the remaining couch seat and ignores the look that Auston sends her in favor of fanning herself with her hand. “Sure.” He says dryly. “I’ll move over a little.”
“Would you? Thanks.” She snickers and he shakes his head fondly at her.
“How about you?” He looks over at Aubrey. “Gonna squish me in the corner even more?”
Aubrey’s already settled herself on his other side, on the edge of the couch. “Nah, I’m good here.” She bumps her shoulder against his.
“Is it even possible to squish you in the corner?” Steph muses.
“Why are you squished in the corner?” Aubrey asks, confused. “What, you couldn’t find a date for New Year’s?”
“I make it a point to not bring dates to holiday parties.” Auston says and Aubrey’s jaw drops.
Steph’s snickering into her palm though, so it’s clear this particular brand of assholery isn’t unfamiliar. “Holidays and events.” She cackles. “Keep those expectations low.”
“Although now that I know that all it takes to make a girl leave is to just have you walk in my house the next morning…” Auston trails off thoughtfully.
Aubrey shoves at his head, ruffling his hair on purpose, but she can’t help but laugh along with him. “Don’t you fucking dare. I’ve got better things to do than that.”
“Like what?” Steph says, too innocently to be real. “Will?”
“I’m leaving.” Aubrey stands, as Steph and Auston both laugh. “I don’t have to listen to this.”
“Is noon good tomorrow?” She hears Auston call after her, while Steph cackles next to him. “How about 12:30?” She flips him off over her shoulder, without looking back, instead pushing her way around Fred and his new girl, to find Will where she’d left him at the bar with Mitch.
But at the bar, she finds only Mitch, who’s looking a little confused. “Where’s Will?” She asks.
“Um.” Is all Mitch says and Aubrey frowns immediately.
“Mitch, what happened?” Aubrey says flatly and Mitch caves right away.
“I don’t know!” He says. “We were just ordering drinks, watching you guys, everything seemed fine, and next thing I know, he was walking away!”
“Well where did he go?” She asks impatiently, barely waiting for Mitch to point before she’s shoving her way through the crowd.
It feels like she circles the entire building before she finally finds Will, and it’s more like she happens to run into him than she actually finds him, which just annoys her even more, enough that she grabs his hand and pulls him outside to a spot far enough away that it’s quiet enough to talk.
It’s not quiet- it’s still New Year’s Eve and there’s people all around them going up and down the street- but it’s far enough from the door that they can’t feel the music anymore, at least.
Will’s staring at their hands, still linked, but he’s not saying anything, and even though she’s the one who dragged them out into the cold, he’s the one who started acting weird in the first place, and she feels her annoyance grow. “I thought we were having a really good time tonight?”
Will sighs. “We were.” He pauses. “I was, at least.”
“Ok, I was too.” Aubrey says slowly. “So, what happened?”
Will sighs again. “Look, it’s fine, like this was never supposed to be a thing with us, yeah? I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me. I’ll get over it.”
She’s so confused. “Get over what? Why are you mad?”
“I saw you,” Will says. “Coming out of Auston’s one morning. I was driving past, after practice on my way home.” He shrugs, almost casually, but she can see in his face how hurt he is. “And like, we were never supposed to be a thing.” He repeats and she frowns. Why does he keep saying that? “So I’m not mad at you and I can’t even be mad at him. But I saw you and Matts together and I knew I liked you more than you liked me.” He shrugs again, trying to play off his words as light as casual, but Aubrey’s trying to put the pieces together of what he said. “I know you’d rather be here with him tonight, but that’s why I can’t do this anymore.”
“Oh my god.” She breathes. “You’re so dumb.”
“Hey!” Will protests.
“We’re so dumb.” She corrects, because, really, it’s the truth. “I was at Auston’s that day because he was the only one who knew about us at the time and I needed to talk to someone about if I’m in love with you!”
Will doesn’t move for a second, the longest second of Aubrey’s entire life. “Where, uh, where’d you land on that one?” He asks, like he’s kind of nervous for the answer.
And Aubrey can relate; there are butterflies in her stomach, even though she’s positive she knows how this is going to end now. “Pretty strongly in favor for.” She says and Will beams, that bright smile that lights up his entire face. “I didn’t get to tell you earlier, but I’m always happy to be with you, too.”
“That’s good.” Will says mildly, and Aubrey grins, waiting for the rest. “Because I really love seeing you smile like that.”
Her jaw drops a little. She’s not upset about what he said at all; it’s just so not what she expected him to say. And in that moment of silence, Will grins down at her once more, before leaning down to kiss her.
-----
It’s late the next morning by the time Aubrey tumbles out of bed, yanking a t-shirt of Will’s over her head. Will’s been up for at least an hour already, and she kisses his cheek as she passes, giggling as he lightly pats her ass in return.
“Coffee’s still warm.” He says.
“I still love you.” She teases. “That’s not changing just because you kept the pot warm.” Will flips her off and returns back to the game he’s playing on his Switch. “Have you seen my phone?”
“Near the front door.”
Most of her stuff is still by the front door, thrown hastily down when they’d come in late last night. Her phone’s still got a little battery left, filled with messages from late last night and earlier this morning, but one in particular catches her eye.
Steph LaChance:
i told you so 😉
#william nylander#william nylander fan fic#william nylander fanfiction#william nylander imagine#Hockey Fanfiction#hockey fanfic#nhl fanfiction#nhl fanfic#nhl imagines#hockey imagines#my hockey fics
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If I keep my Eyes Closed
Holy shit it's been a minute. I'm sorry I am ✨Mentally Ill✨ and I also had a bad case of writers block. But here we are! Also if you recognize the slight Buffy the vampire slayer reference you get a metaphorical cookie.
Cw: meltdown
Chapter 6: You better make me better
+1. Ty had a scar on the top of his collarbone. It wasn't super big or noticable. Just a little slit of white. Kit doubted most people would have even noticed. Unless of course you were completely fucking obsessed like him.
He had been trying to stay focused on the meeting. Imminent death and all. That was kind of a big deal. But he just couldn't stop staring at Ty and thinking about what Alyssa had said. There was this knee jerk reaction to not believe anything she said about Ty because it just couldn't be true. Not for any of the reasons she thought but because Kit just wasn't the person you fell madly in love with.
Kit was useful. Kit was good for certain things. And yeah sure there were people who cared about him now. He was starting to realize over the years, with the help of therapy that the shit his dad put him through was less then ideal. And he was worthy of love.
He still felt weird thinking that but he was sort of hoping that if he just said it in his head enough times it would stick. But the thing was, Ty was, well ty. Beautiful and brilliant Ty. Innovative, curious and adventurous Ty with so much light and life buzzing inside of him. Messy imperfect and stubborn Ty who could be so tender and then so damn cold when he wanted to be.
How could Kit ever deserve that? Ty's love?
And based on what Alyssa said, how the hell was Kit worthy of that? That all encompassing, consuming love?
The meeting adjourned for the night and Janessa gave him a look that he knew meant "I know you weren't paying attention you idiot." He smirked at her, trying to seem casual.
"You going to sleep? She asked. "I'm going out. Gonna see if there's any good bars around here. You know, creature of the night and all."
Kit shook his head. "No sorry Nessie, there's something I gotta do." He felt guilty for blowing off his best friend but he was worried that if he didn't talk to Ty now he would loose his nerve .
Janessa nodded almost knowingly. "Good luck with that."
She walked off and Kit immediately turned back to the crowd of people heading off to their respective rooms. He spotted Ty off in the corner talking to Livvy and Alyssa, which had to be tricky since they couldn't see each other. Eventually Alyssa hugged Ty, pressing a kiss to his check which still made Kit angry, and left the room.
Kit realized it wasn't actually the affection he was jealous off. It was the trust. Ty trusted her completely. And Kit had lost that. And he needed to get it back. Whatever it took.
And then Ty looked at him and his heart stopped. Because Ty wasn't just looking at him, he was staring directly into his eyes for the first time in years.
Kit had forgotten how to breathe. His eyes were so striking. So gray. Like the colour of iron. Ty had always reminded him of iron. Strength and resilience. It may bend but it does not break.
But was that really true? Or was Ty just pretending to be unbreakable?
Kit had no idea what to do or say, so he just stood there staring at Ty. It was like they were frozen in time. Honestly Kit could have stayed there forever just staring at Ty.
Finally Ty broke the silence and pulled his face into a scowl. "What is it?"
Kit flinched at the harshness in his voice. He knew what Alyssa had said, that he was just protecting himself but that didn't stop Kit from feeling so vulnerable and scared.
So he was still a bit of a pussy. Sue him.
But in his defense Ty was kind of scary when he wanted to be. Kit cleared his throat.
"I need to talk to you," he said firmly. It was only then that he realized Livvy had disappeared from Ty's side.
Ty looked confused. "Why?" He asked. "Why now? You have been avoiding me for weeks Christopher."
Kit scoffed. "You've been avoiding me too you know!"
Ok so this wasn't exactly going according to plan. But sometimes Ty just pushed his buttons a little too well.
Kit took a deep breath. "Listen I'm sorry ok? About all of it. I'm sorry for leaving and I'm so sorry I hurt you." He could hear the desperation creeping into his voice. "Believe me that was the last thing I wanted. I just-" he shook his head. "I got scared. I got so scared of something happening to you and I froze up and just lost my shit. And it was like you didn't even care."
Ty's brow furrowed. "I did care. I do care. Why else would I be here?"
Kit sighed. "I know! Believe me I get it now! Or maybe not fully but I know I read things wrong. But I need you to know that it wasn't about you Ty, it was about me. Me and my own insecurities." Kit took a step towards Ty. He didn't back away.
And Kit could see it now, what he couldn't before. There was a longing depth in Ty's gaze and his jaw was clenched like he was trying to keep walls up. His arms were wrapped around himself and he seemed to be pulling at the skin.
He was hurting and Kit just wanted to make it better.
"Listen to me," Kit said carefully. "I love you Ty. I am in love with you." His chest aches as he says it, heavy with the weight of it. But he needs Ty to hear him this time. He needs to know.
"Stop it," Ty growled. And whatever Kit thought Ty's reaction would be to hearing those words, he didn't think it would be anger. Ty glared at him furiously, angrier that Kit had ever seen him before. "Just stop."
And if Kit was smart or even remotely sane, he would have. But he just couldn't.
"I love you," he declared again desperately. "I love you so much."
Ty snarled, balling his hands into fists. "Stop!"
Kit shook his head softly. "I love you."
Ty lashed out at the speed of lightning, grabbing Kit's shoulders and spinning him around so that his back slammed against the wall. Before he could even register what was happening he felt a blade kissing his throat.
"Shut up!" Ty pleaded. His voice sounded less angry and more desperate and shaking now.
Kit could remember the last time he was in this position. The very first time they met, a shadowhunter he had never met before pulled a weapon on him and he wasn't scared, he wasn't furious. He was just in awe.
How beautiful.
"I love you Ty, He gasped breathlessly, willing Ty to believe him. To feel it. "I swear to you I'm not lying. I. Love. you."
Ty trembled, the blade he was holding pressing even harder again Kit's throat. His eyes were full of tears. Kit felt a pang in his chest. Ty hardly ever cried.
He was well aware that Ty could take his head off like this, or slit his throat and let Kit bleed out. Kit didn't care.
If he was going to die, he wanted these to be his last words.
"I love you Ty," he whispered.
Ty let out a whine as his body shook. The hand holding the knife was practically vibrating.
And then Kit felt it. A sharp pain at his throat, followed by a wet feeling. It probably should have bothered him more him more.
But the most concern he felt was when he saw Ty's eyes widen in horror when he saw that he had drawn blood. He let out a panicked wail.
"Hey," Kit cooed gently. "I'm ok." He gripped Ty's wrist carefully, leading the knife away from him. "I'm ok Ty."
He had no idea if that was actually true but he really didn't give a crap. What Kit cared about was the way Ty had dropped the knife and anxiously fluttering and tapping his fingers. He rolled his shoulder up to his ear, scrunching up his face.
"Hey," Kit murmered desperately, trying not to scare Ty. "It's ok baby, I'm ok." He tried to reach for him but Ty flinched out of his grasp whining again. Tears were streaming down his face.
Kit's heart felt like it was breaking. "Ty it's gonna be ok," he pleaded, but Ty just shook his head frantically and pulled at his hair. Kit slowly took another step towards him.
"Please just tell me what to do."
But Ty just sobbed, gasping for air. Kit reached for him again and took Ty into his arms and this time he didn't fight him. Kit wrapped himself around Ty and squeezed as tightly as he could. Ty buried his face in Kit's neck and wailed, a sound so full of fury and agony. It was a sound that Kit had heard many times when his friends or other autistic people were having meltdowns.
Kit pressed a kiss to the side of his head like he had seen Alyssa do. "It's ok sweetheart just let it out," he whispered. "I love you."
Ty gasped, taking frantic breaths. "I can't," he whimpered. "I can't. It's not safe."
Kit had no idea what Ty meant by that. Alyssa would know his traitorous brain whispered. But he wasn't Alyssa. He was Kit, and he needed to trust that was good enough for Ty. That he was what Ty wanted.
He held him tighter, running a gang through Ty's hair. "Yes it is," he breathed. "You are safe with me Ty. You are always safe with me."
Kit had no idea how long he stayed like that, just holding Ty in his arms. Time seemed to just fade away. He still remembered the first time. When they were both still so young and had no idea what was in store for them. When he had no idea what he was feeling, why he felt so compelled to stay.
Ty's cries were lessening now, Kit could feel his heart racing against his. It was almost as if they were both trying to break free and merge. Ty sighed and wiped his eyes on Kit's shirt, finally staring at him again.
"You're bleeding," He pointed out.
Oh yeah. Right.
Kit realized with a laugh that he had completely forgotten. Ty looked confused.
"Don't worry," he smiled. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
Ty wasn't convinced. "Still, you should let me give you an iratze," he protested. "I should never have-"
Kit cut him off. "It's ok, I'm fine Ty. Really."
Ty gave him a small smile and cupped his cheek, tracing over Kit's orbital bone with his thumb. Kit felt his heart soar.
"Ty," he said quietly not wanting to break the peace. "I need to ask you something. Please."
"Yes?" Ty looked scared.
"I don't want to upset you again, said Kit carefully. "But I just need to know. I think I already know the answer but I need to hear you say it. Just once and then you never have to say it again." Kit slid his hands up Ty's arms.
"Do you love me?" Kit murmered. It was what he should have asked that day on the beach. But then again Ty might not have been ready to answer. He might not even have known the answer yet.
Ty was silent. For several agonizing seconds he said nothing. Then he pressed his forehead to Kit's and whispered so quietly that Kit wouldn't have heard him if he wasn't so close.
"I love you."
Kit couldn't help himself. He sobbed, letting four years of misery and anguish come pouring out.
For years now he had been dreaming of Ty saying those words to him. Each time Kit would wake up in tears because he was so sure those dreams could never be reality.
Ty nudged his nose against Kit's. "Don't cry."
Kit choaked on a laugh. Easier said than done.
Ty cupped his face gently, stroking his cheek. " Please don't cry," Ty whispered.
And then he kissed him.
Ty's lips crashed into his and for a moment Kit's heart stopped before he felt a surge of emotion propelling him into action. He passionately returned the kiss, pulling Ty even closer and getting lost in his warmth.
Nothing else mattered. Ty loved him. Ty loved him. And he could feel it so clearly in the urgency and gentleness of his touch. In the way he licked into Kit's mouth and deepened their kisses like he was trying to devour Kit. Devour him whole.
The world faded to nothing as they kissed feverishly, clawing at each others skin. It was intoxicating. It felt like Ty was touching every single nerve in his body. Kit felt Ty's run his hands through his curls and pull. He let out a slight moan in response.
He could still feel their hearts racing together as Ty pinned him firmly against the wall. He broke the kiss and smiled slightly, something Kit rarely saw especially lately. It made him want to smile too.
It always did. Ty's happiness was like a balm for the soul.
Ty leaned in again and kissed the spot above the corner of Kit's mouth. One of his freckles, Kit realized.
Kit sighed. His head was spinning. He felt so light, like he was floating. Like he finally knew it was gonna be ok. He was gonna be ok.
It felt like coming home.
*Five years later*
Ty had always been fascinated with the night sky, even as a child. He loved to look up at the stars and trace the various constellations with his gaze, even making up new ones. He would draw specific patterns, organizing them into groups and categories.
Or he would count them.
Livvy always thought it was ridiculous.
You can't count them all Ty-Ty. That's impossible.
It's not about counting all of them, He would say. I just like to count them. It calms my mind.
Then Livvy would giggle and say how ironic that was seeing how much he hated math.
Ty could look back on the memory know with fondness and smile instead of being overcome with grief. He had lost Livvy some time ago, a few months after he and Kit had entered a romantic relationship. The connection had become too weak and it wasn't safe to attempt to keep her with them.
It was painful. But this time it was almost bearable. Like there was some part of him that had been preparing for that moment for awhile. And he still grieved, in the sense that he was fine for weeks and then it hit him like a tsunami. And the he cried. He screamed. He yelled and lashed out any anyone nearby.
But through it all, Kit was always there. His fiance now. The word still brought a bubbly giddy feeling. It was almost ridiculous how much Kit Herondale had an affect on his emotions. He could completely take Ty over and Ty wouldn't mind.
Speaking of...
"Hey!" Kit called from up ahead, "look what I found!"
They were walking along the beach at night eager to take a break from the party that was going on back at the institute. It was Helen's birthday and Aline had insisted on inviting everyone they knew, which of course resulted in enough noise and chaos that they could still hear it on the beach.
Kit had run ahead as he had a tendency to do on occasion and now was returning with something in his hands. A turtle, Ty realized. The sight instantly brought on fond memories, memories of when things were still new and they barely knew each other. But it still felt right. It still felt safe.
"I've decided to name him Murtle," Kit said cheerfully. "Murtle the turtle."
Ty shook his head fondly. "How do you know it's a male turtle? Should you really be assuming the turtle's gender?"
"Oh fuck off," Kit replied lightheartedly. "What can I say, I got a feeling. You wanna hold Murtle?" He held the very unimpressed looking turtle out to Ty.
Ty grinned, taking Murtle out of Kit's out stretched palms. "Of course I do."
"That's the smile," Kit murmered, almost to himself. "You smiled the same way the first time I saw you holding a turtle."
"I was just thinking about that!"
Kit gazed at him lovingly, his eyes so full warmth and devotion. "I swear Ty, sometimes it's like the only reason I get out of bed in the morning. For a change to see that smile."
Ty's chest clenched. He thought of his own dark days with cloudy thoughts and heavy limbs. "I know how you feel," he murmered. He cupped the side of Kit's neck and leaned down to brush his lips against his.
"Excuse me?" A timid voice sounded beside them. They both turned to look.
She appeared to be a girl about Mina's age, around 9 years old. She had two puncture wounds that had scarred over on her neck.
A vampire.
Ty had always known that there were vampires trapped in child form for eternity. He had just never actually seen one up close. She could technically be hundreds of years old and she looked like a little girl.
It was quite fasinating.
Ty resisted the urge to ask her any questions that might be deemed inappropriate.
"Hello," he responded cautiously. Ty then realized he was still holding Murtle the turtle. Kit glanced over at him and seemed to realize this as well.
"Oh. Yeah uh, Ty you should probably go put Murtle back while I talk to Sarah."
Kit knew her?
"Wait," the girl (Sarah his brain supplied) spoke up. "I actually just wanted to ask you about your necklace," she pointed to the Herondale pendent resting against Ty's chest. "Does that mean you're engaged?"
Ty tried not to laugh as the Deja Vu hit him. He could remember clear as day all those years ago every time people assumed he and Kit were together
He looked over at Kit who looked nervous, almost as if he was afraid of what Ty's answer would be. That wiped any amusement from the situation.
Because Ty knew what he was thinking about. All of those times people made those assumed at reacted in anger and annoyance. Maybe even what may have seemed like disgust.
It was fear. Ty always knew that. Fear of being vulnerable, of admitting what he wanted. He never wanted to make Kit feel like he was ashamed of him or of his love for him.
Ty wanted to spend the rest of his life bathing Kit in his love so that he never felt alone or afraid ever again.
He reached for Kit's hand and squeezed it tightly, turning back to Sarah with a proud smile.
"Yes we are."
And we're done y'all! Btw if you're wondering I got the name Murtle from the Dr. Suess novel Yurtle the turtle.
Tagging: @lavender-scented-rat @littlx-songbxrd @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan @tired-vin @phoenix-and-dragon @amchara @wagner-fell @sandersgrey @the-wckd-powers @spooky-drusilla @unhinged-aroace @the-blackdale @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas
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Sunrise (6)
summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU)
pairings: bucky x reader
chapter word count: 6.7k
warnings: PTSD, flashbacks/panic attack, a hint into our girl’s past, the sweetest fluff, another book rec
🧡 series masterlist / series playlist
“So, you really melted ice man's heart, huh?”
You pouted, throwing Sam a warning glare as you turned back to the stack of books on the cart.
It had only been a few days since the night on the park bench and you had seen Bucky nearly every evening since. Most of the time you’d find him waiting by the chairs at the entrance to the library for you to get off shift, hair tucked under a baseball cap and hand brushing down at the thigh of his jeans, like maybe he was nervous enough to find the evidence in his palms. He’d brighten up as you spotted him, a lightness coming over his features. You’d lead him down the residential side streets, through canopied trees and flowerbeds along the sidewalk, to spend a few hours at Luciana’s sipping decaf and nibbling through pastries.
The crowds didn’t bother him as much lately it seemed, or maybe he was getting used to the hustle of rush hour after spending so much time avoiding it. Part of you wondered whether your hand slipping into his and the constant pressure of a slight squeeze had anything to do with it. You wondered if it grounded him like an anchor when his body was eager to float off into space.
He was so impossibly sweet with you; hesitant, like Mrs. Jefferson had said the first day he wandered into the library, but still, there was a lingering charm in it. It sat in the way he looked at you, like he was trying to memorize the lines on your faces, in the way he listened to your long rambles on the latest book you were assigning him, how he had no interest in cutting you off, like maybe he could have listened to you talk for an eternity if you’d let him.
Bucky Barnes was a little rough on his edges, with some fraying seams and broken pieces, but he was still whole – still complete and wonderful and beautiful. He was soft in his undertones, glimpses of a subtle charm and confidence slipping through the cracks in the small moments when he let his guard down. You didn’t know the Bucky before the war that Sam and Steve spoke so fondly of, but you knew the man he was now and well, this Bucky was everything.
“He seems like he’s doing better,” Sam said, a little softer this time as he leaned his back to the book shelf. His arms folded over his chest, a smile resembling a sort of pride pushing up at his cheeks. “Took me months to convince him to leave the apartment long enough to check out the VA and you’ve got him down here visiting you almost every day. He’s walking through rush hour just to see you, Y/n. That’s huge for him! Hell, his face might break from how much he’s been smiling lately...”
You laughed, hushing Sam as an elderly woman shot a pointed stare in his direction. Sam held his arms up in defense.
“He seems happy, Y/n,” Sam finished as you set another book onto the shelf. “Do you get what I’m saying?”
“I get you’re implying that it’s my doing,” you said unconvinced, “but he’s stronger than you give him credit for, Sam. He would have come around on his own. He just needed time. All of you did when you got back. Clearly some more than others. But Bucky... he suffered an immeasurable loss over there. Imagine what that must be like for him to have to readjust to his own body. Of course, he needed time.”
Sam was still smiling at you, nodding along, like maybe you were only proving his point. You believed so strongly in Bucky that it didn’t even cross your mind that maybe it was because of you that he’d started to find himself again. You hadn’t known Bucky when he was holed up in his apartment, shielding himself from the light and drowning in his own anguish. It broke your heart to imagine him sitting alone in a dark, messy apartment, staring at the walls and wishing he were someone else.
You couldn’t imagine him like that because the man you knew was sweet beyond measure and he made your stomach twist into knots from a simple look across the room. It didn’t seem possible that the light could be drained from the blue of his eyes.
“I’m not trying to fix him, Sam,” you mumbled under your breath, keeping your eyes trained on the task at hand. “He doesn’t need fixing. I just... I like him and... I like spending time with him. If that means he’s doing better, if he’s starting to look more like the guy you knew, then... that’s good.”
Sam paused, pursing his lips as he studied your face for the subtle reflexes upon your features. You weren’t sure what he was looking for or maybe it was that he was debating whether to argue with you further on the subject, but eventually he resided to concede, letting out a heavy exhale.
“Just... thank you,” Sam said, relief etched into his voice. “It’s nice having my friend back.”
You looked up at him, a little stunned. “Sam, I haven’t done anything. We haven’t even...um... We aren’t...”
He smiled at you, something genuine, something softer than the cheesy grins you were used to from him. It was a glimpse into who Sam was behind the jokes and the comedic breaks in tension; a man who cared so deeply for the people in his life that he’d cross mountains to see them smile again. He’d come to your aid without so much as a second thought when you’d needed him most, when your world was thrown completely upside down, and here he was again, putting everything he had into making his friend feel whole again.
Sam put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed. “You’ve done more than you realize.”
You stared at him for a moment, a little lost for words. Could just a few extra days spent wandering around the library, sitting across a café table nursing coffee and scones, and curling up on a park bench have that kind of impact? If you let yourself stop to realize how much brighter your days felt when Bucky was in them, maybe you’d understand what Sam meant.
“Besides,” Sam shrugged as his smile drifted, “it’s nice to see you happy again, too. Moving on.”
You swallowed and it tasted of bile. The book nearly slipped from your hand.
Sam chewed on the edge of his lip, a hand swiping over the top of his head. “I know it’s been a few years since we lost—”
“Please— don’t,” you choked out.
Sam bowed his head, nodding, and you could already feel the swell in your throat. You exhaled a tense breath that struggled to push past your lungs and forced yourself to continue restocking the books, concentrating on the alphabetizing and weathered feel of the covers.
“It’s still hard for me to talk about him, too,” Sam admitted, leaning against the shelf. He shoved his hands into his pockets, a frown pushing on his lips that felt so incredibly unnatural to the man you knew. “But the pain of it doesn’t hurt as much when we have reasons to get up in the morning. Reasons to smile, still. Good things to look forward to.”
You nodded, willing yourself not to cry. It had been so long since you let yourself drift into the memory of the man you’d lost, the name behind the membership card of the loved ones left behind to war heavy in your pocket.
“All I’m saying is Bucky’s good for you too, kid,” Sam smiled softly nudging you in the shoulder and tickling your sides until a laugh escaped. You clamped a hand down over your mouth as the two of you earned another pointed stare from the elderly woman lurking in the romance section. Sam raised his hands in defense.
You wiped at your eyes, cheeks burning from grinning. “I could have told you that, you know.”
“Speak of the devil.” Sam nodded over to the top of the staircase where a man emerged, holding onto the banister; a mop of long brown hair swayed down into his face, a dark green army jacket hung over his shoulders with a sleeve draped down at his left side untouched.
Whatever remained of the lump burning in your throat dissipated, the weight in your pocket feeling a little lighter. A smile grew so wide on your checks you’d nearly forgotten the frown that had ached in the very same muscles just moments earlier.
“Bucky! What are you doing here?” you laughed as he approached, a little surprised to see him. You nearly wrapped your arms around him before you stopped yourself. You’d only gone as far to hold his hand and you weren’t even sure he’d be comfortable with it given Sam was standing directly on your left.
“Hey,” he replied nervously, pushing a hand through his hair. It looked noticeably softer, a bit of a shine to it, and you wondered if he’d started to care for it again. It was the first time you’d seen him without the baseball cap on. He exchanged a look with Sam before turning back to you. “You said that it got pretty slow on Thursdays and I just wanted to offer you some company but... seems like that’s already covered.”
“Sam can leave!”
Sam pouted dramatically at you as Bucky started to laugh under his breath. It wrinkled up into his eyes and you saw for a moment what Sam had meant; a brightness had returned to the shimmering shades of the open blue skies in his eyes in favor of the muted and darkened ocean waves you’d seen that first day in the VA.
“That hurts, you know,” Sam whined, hand clutching at the fabric on his chest as if he could reach inside and touch his own heart. “We were friends long before this one wandered on scene.”
“Bye Sam,” you sang, waving him off with a nudging on his back. Hands pressed into his shoulder blades, Sam dug his heels into the multicolored carpet under his feet to keep you from pushing him along. You started to laugh loud enough for the woman who scolded Sam earlier to turn in your direction with a scowl upon her face.
“Alright, alright,” Sam groaned. He stood up straight, brushing you off. “Have fun, kids. Buck, I’ll see you Thursday for the game, right?”
Bucky nodded; hand tucked into his pocket. “Steve’s on nacho duty and we both know he’ll bring enough for twenty people, so you better.”
Sam grinned, pumping his fist in the air. “Exactly what I want to hear.”
“Weren’t you leaving...?” you teased, arms folded over your chest. Sam stuck out his tongue at you and quickly disappeared down the steps. You could hear the rhythmic bounce of his footsteps all the way to the bottom floor. You turned back to Bucky. “So, Thursday night football, huh?”
“Steve started it,” Bucky chuckled, a nervous hand raking through his hair. “They’ve been trying to rope me into game nights since baseball season started. Never had the interest before, I guess.”
That was what Sam was talking about; the small changes in his friend, little pieces of hope embedded into each day, small allowances of motivation and joy. He was finding it again.
“And now?” you inquired and Bucky shrugged.
“Sounds like it could be nice. Haven’t watched a game with them like that since before—” He swallowed, eyes darting down. It took a minute, a short breath in and a tense exhale before he cleared his throat and pushed out a smile. “Anyway, how are you? I didn't mean to interrupt if you were hanging out with Wilson, honest.”
“Oh, don’t worry about Sam. He likes the attention too much.” You laughed, stepping a little closer.
Glancing down at his hand as he held it down by his side – not tucked into his pocket, not curled up in a fist – and you dared to reach for it. You felt the slight twinge of surprise as he jolted under the touch, but relaxed almost instantly as you intertwined your fingers.
“I’m better now that you’re here,” you said simply, running your free hand soothingly along his arm. It wasn’t unfamiliar contact but it was still new. You could tell it still felt like the first time for him any time you touched him, like he was trying to retrain his body on how to accept touch like this; something gentle and affectionate. You put as much compassion and warmth into each embrace as you could, hoping it might help alleviate some of that anxiety.
He smiled at you, squeezing your hand in return. “Was kinda hoping you’d say that.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded, a smile growing on his face as he watched your right hand slide along his arm, running over the bumps in his jacket and feeling for the muscle underneath. If it bothered him, he gave no indication. Instead, he squeezed your hand again, readjusting his fingers, rubbing his thumb sweetly along the back of your hand.
“Come on,” you nodded, gesturing to the book shelf behind you. “I’ve got more books to put away and I could use some of that company you promised.”
***
Three hours later and Bucky was sitting on one of the beanbags in the Children’s Corner, reading the latest book on a seemingly never-ending list you’d assigned for him: The Silver Linings Playbook by Mathew Quick – the story of a man determined to find the good in the bad as he navigates an evenly matched chaotic love interest, the approval of a strict, suburban Philadelphian family, and an undying loyalty to Eagles’ football.
After Bucky had helped place a few of the novels on the tallest shelves, you insisted you weren’t intent to put him to work and pushed him onto the beanbag chair. Most of the time he pretended to read while he watched you weave around the aisles. Always bright when patrons approached and sneaking a few lines of narrative from each book as you placed it on the shelf, as if you could capture a glimpse of each story and hold it for later.
You were never more than a few aisles away and he caught you peering over at him every so often, just checking to make sure he was still there. He winked at you as you caught his eye and a laugh would escape passed your lips despite your effort to hide it before you disappeared back to your task.
He was nearly halfway through the book, using the same clip you’d given him the first day of book club, when he heard the small voice of a child clear their throat.
A girl, no older than eight, stood behind you as you stocked one of the children’s shelves. She tapped on your spine and backed up a few paces, holding her hands tightly in front of her.
Bucky couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, but you knelt down to her level – the same as you’d done for the boy in the café – and nodded intently to what she was saying. Then, after scratching at your head, scrunching up your face in thought, you brought the girl over to a different aisle and pulled out a book for her.
She glanced over the cover for only a few seconds before she tugged the book tight to her chest and squealed. She thanked you quickly with an enthusiastic wave before she rushed off to a couple standing by the elevator. She wrapped her arms around her father’s legs, excitedly showing her mother the book you’d selected for her.
But Bucky couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. You stood from your place in the aisle as you watched the interaction between the girl and her parents; how the father patted her on the head and ruffled up her hair, much to the child’s infectious delight, how the mother picked up the book and raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
Your hands were crossed over your heart, a smile brimming bright on your face. Bucky couldn’t imagine how anyone had come to be as genuine and warm as you were; filled with an unending compassion for others beyond anything he’d ever seen before and a love in the simplicity of kindness. When you looked back over at him, he could hardly catch his breath.
“Hey,” you called sweetly, skipping up to him. The sleeves of a golden yellow sweater hung past your fingertips and you curled the excess fabric into your palms. “My shift’s over in a few minutes.”
Bucky blinked a few times, pulling himself from his stare before he glanced over at the clocking hanging high above the books. “Wow. That went fast.”
You nodded, swaying on your heels.
“Luciana’s?” you asked as you bit down on your lip, that nervous kind of look about you like you might actually believe he’d ever turn down more time with you.
Bucky exhaled a breath of relief, closing the book in his lap. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Come on,” you grinned, extending your hand to him.
You took the book first, placing it into the small bag draped over your shoulder, and slipped your hand into his. Bucky let you tug him up to his feet, though he didn’t need the help despite the sinking feeling of the bean bag chair numbing his legs. He liked the feeling of your hand wrapped tightly in his own and he liked it even more so when you didn’t let go.
“Heading out, dear?” Mrs. Jefferson called by the front desk as you passed by. She ran her eyes over Bucky, that signature smirk present upon her lips, though you didn’t seem to notice. She winked at him and he felt the tips of his ears burn red.
“Yes, ma’am! I’ll see you tomorrow,” you replied, waving her off as you pulled Bucky to the doors.
It was warmer outside than he was expecting, with children running down the sidewalk and tourists in matching t-shirts chasing on their heels. They carried pinwheels in their hands and bags of popcorn as if they’d been by a carnival – which seemed odd in the middle of Brooklyn. Another family across the street pushed a small child in a stroller with paint on her face in the shape of rainbows and a bag of cotton candy curled up tight in her hand.
Bucky narrowed his eyes, confused.
“I love this time of year,” you sighed, leaning your head to his shoulder as you walked. “Look at the sky. It’s beautiful.”
The sun was beginning its decent beyond the horizon, the dark cast of a night sky peering over the light blues as they faded into reds and oranges and a distant glimpse of purple. The stars had begun to peak through the clouds.
“Forgot how dark it can get,” Bucky said as you guided him back to the residential streets.
You shrugged. “Earlier sunset though. Makes for a nicer walk after my shift.”
Bucky smiled at that. You always managed to find the silver lings in every cloud, no matter how dark or grey or filled with rain – you found the good. He wondered for a moment, if you could manage to do the same in him, too.
“It was nice of you to come by today,” you said. You nudged his hip as you adjusted your hold on his hand with a gentle squeeze. When he looked down at you, you were smiling at him.
“Just like spending time with you.” Bucky shrugged, trying to play it off casually, though his heart was racing. You nodded slowly, the smile growing even wider on your face, though you didn’t say anything.
The sidewalks were empty on this part of the walk and while a silence had taken over between you, it was comfortable, like the wrap of a warm blanket. Your hand still tucked into his, a gentle squeeze now and then to remind him you were there, a soft humming under your breath. There was a sense of peace in it, a safety he hadn’t known in a very long time.
The quiet had been his enemy for so long. He’d done everything he could to avoid it; favoring instead the white noise of a broken satellite channel, the clanging of the radiator he’d never fixed, the static of an empty radio station. The quiet allowed too many memories to come through, memories he would have rather left behind when he boarded that plane for the last time. The quiet mocked him and pushed him so far inside himself, he was underwater.
But now—now there was a kindness in it. The quiet granted him the moments to listen for the gentle rise of your breaths and the hum in your voice. It allowed him a chance to focus on the click of your boots to the sidewalk and the way you said his name like he was something to behold. The silence gave him you.
And it was ripped away in an instant.
He felt the vibration of it, felt the rumble in his chest and the skip in his heart, before he ever heard the thunderous echo of the explosion.
No time to react, Bucky shoved you to the ground, throwing his body on top of yours, his arm casting up to shield your face. He couldn’t feel the heat of the fire, but he knew it must be close.
“Bucky!” you called, frantic, but your voice sounded too far away. His ears were ringing, his heart pounding so loudly he wondered if it could jump straight out from his chest, if it would spill broken and bloody onto your sweater below.
You called his name again, trying to grab his attention, but it was muffled, like you were calling to him from beneath an ocean.
He dared a glance back over his shoulder, searching for enemy soldiers, IEDs, tanks, trunks, anything, but he was only met with empty streets, autumn-colored leaves, and brick buildings when he was sure all he would find was dirt and desert.
Something was wrong.
“Bucky, you’re alright. You’re safe. Focus on my voice,” you called to him again and he felt the touch of something cold on his face. Your hands. Cupping at his cheeks, your thumbs brushing gently over the rush of heat on his skin. He stared down at you, breathing heavy, but you were steady, calm. “Bucky, breathe for me. Come on.”
You took in a deep breath, urging him to follow.
But no—he didn’t have time. He had to get you to safety. He had to get you out of the line of fire before—
Another explosion.
He flinched as it erupted, wrapping himself tighter around you, caging you down against the sidewalk in an effort to take the brunt of debris though he felt nothing on his back. You groaned underneath him, a slight pain in your voice.
“Bucky, honey.” Your voice was miles away. He could only hear the last remaining remnants of an echo at the end of a tunnel. Your hands pressed against his face again, urging him to look at you. Your eyes were wide as you searched his, full of concern and maybe even sadness, but no fear. Why was there no fear?
“Look up for me,” you told him gently, gesturing to the sky. “You’re safe, Bucky. It’s only fireworks. Look.”
Bucky kept his focus on you. His vision was blurry, a painful ringing piercing in his ears. When you looked up at the sky, tenderly tilting his head to follow, he saw the trail of illuminated sparks against the backdrop of the setting sun as it raced into the sky.
Then – the explosion.
He still recoiled at the sound as it erupted into his chest, but he kept his eyes focused on the stream of red and gold as it fluttered against the backdrop of deep navies and the peppered brush strokes of fading purples along the horizon, the smoke disappearing in ghosted shadows against the clouds. His lips parted in shock, his breaths coming in a little quicker.
“No, I... I thought... I was so sure it...” He couldn’t finish a sentence, his mind racing faster than he could speak. He shook his head, staring up at the outlines of the firework long after it faded, the wind carrying it away. It felt so real.
“Let’s get out of the street, okay?” you soothed, drawing your fingers down his cheeks, smiling encouragingly at him. He nodded, feeling a bit out of it, like maybe he was in some sort of trance.
But then, it happened again.
The firework exploded high into the air and Bucky pressed his face to the crook of your neck, drawing you in as close as he could manage. He was shaking as you ran your hand along his spine.
“It’s okay, honey. I’ve got you.” Your voice was the only thing keeping him from disappearing inside himself entirely. He focused on the imprint of your hand on his back, the feel of your fingertips as you traced the lines on his face. He concentrated on the heat in your breath as it touched his cheeks and the pressed of your body under his.
“I live close by,” you told him, gesturing to a street off the corner. “Let’s go now, alright? Before the next one goes off.”
Bucky nodded quickly, too lost within his own head to feel the rush of embarrassment seeping into his features. His felt nauseous, his arm shaking, his legs weak and numb as he slowly backed off of you.
As you began to stand, he noticed the tiny rocks embedded into your clothing when they fell down to the sidewalk, bouncing against the concrete by your feet. There were scrapes on your elbows and a tear in your sweater.
“Come on,” you called to him, extending your hand, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the patch of red on your skin.
But then he spotted another stream of light flying high into the sky and he reached for your hand, gripping it tight before the firework went off. Even prepared, it made him stumble on his feet as it echoed down into the empty streets.
“Focus on this, alright? Focus on what you can feel,” you said, squeezing his hand tight in your own. You picked up the pace as you guided him a few blocks away from Luciana’s, further into the residential streets.
If Bucky had been in his right state of mind, he would have thought it was rather pretty; the way the sunset cast a stunning illuminated glow onto the faded brick and the pots of flowers hanging from the windowsills. The fireworks lighting up the darkest parts of the sky in effervescent colors.
You were beautiful as you tugged him along – hair a little misplaced, leaves trapped in the fabric of your sweater, cautious looks back in his direction as you pulled him by his hand. So beautiful, it kept his focus as another firework went off and he felt the hardened pressure of your grip.
“Go on inside,” you instructed, and Bucky realized he was standing at the door to an apartment – your apartment. He didn’t even realize he’d walked up a flight of stairs and crossed inside a building.
You were staring at him when he looked at you again and it was only then he saw an ounce of fear in your eyes. You squeezed his hand. “Come on now, honey. Please?”
Bucky swallowed, nodding as he stepped inside. He tried to look around, wanted to know the sort of things you kept around your apartment; if it was littered in as many books as you carried in your bag or if it had the warm tones of the colors you wore in your clothing decorated around your living room. He wanted to look at old pictures on the wall and the stand of DVDs you held onto, even without a workable DVD player, as they piled by the television. He wanted to know so much more about you.
Even in the distance, through the walls and the locked windows, he heard the firework erupt into the sky, the flash of it echoing into your apartment and lighting up the living room, and his whole body winced.
“Couch,” you told him, quickly kicking your shoes to the mat and shrugging off your jacket. You grabbed a book from your bag and tossed it onto the coffee table. When Bucky didn’t so much as move, you took careful steps closer to him and stilled.
“Do you know where you are?” you asked cautiously, almost instinctively, like maybe you’d done that before.
Bucky swallowed, though it tasted of bile. He nodded.
You bent down to untie his boots. He stepped out when you asked him to, the slight chill of your fingertips against his ankles as you removed the shoes. Then, you grabbed his hand and led him to the couch.
You laid down with your back pressed against the arm rest, one leg draped down along the back cushions, the other hung over the side. You gestured for him to follow, patting at the space of the couch between your legs.
“I...” Bucky started, finding the words lost on his tongue. He knew it would help. The pressure, the feel of you to ground him back to reality, to keep his mind from the memories swarming back to the surface, but all he could feel was the emptiness on his left, the shame of a missing piece and he couldn’t stand for you to feel it, too.
“Bucky, please,” you urged. “Let me help you.”
The echo of another firework broke into the sky, the light illuminating your apartment, and despite Bucky’s best efforts, his body flinched.
He clenched his jaw, desperately trying to keep himself in the present moment, to focus on you and the distant scent of a pine candle on the coffee table, but all he could see was a rush of wind, sand in his eyes from the storm, the laughter of a kid far too young to be carrying a weapon of that size, the low hum of a jeep, a reflection over a hillside, someone screaming, his throat raw and burning and—and—and—
“Bucky? Are you—”
He crawled down onto the couch, sinking you into the cushions and resting the full of his body weight against you. He set his head against your chest; his ear pressed to your heartbeat so he could hear the steady thumping inside, the rise and fall of each breath. His right arm snaked up around your shoulder blades, tucking his hand against you like he was cradling a pillow.
You were incredibly still for a moment, stunned that he gave in, but then he felt you relax under him. A hum nestled in your chest as you slid a hand along his spine, drawing lines and circles to ease the tension in his muscles. The other swept against his hair, pushing it from his eyes, raking into his scalp.
You laid there with him like that for a moment, soothing your hands along the tension in his body and humming soft melodies under your breath to distract him from the fireworks as they lit up the night sky. He still flinched, but he recovered quicker, focusing on the steady beat of your heart under his ear and the movement of your hands on his spine.
He felt something warm touch other the crown of his head, a shaken breath brushing over his hair. Then, the book from the coffee table made its way into your right hand, the clip you’d given him on the first day of book club, affixed to the last page he’d read in the library that day. Resting the binding on his shoulder, you began to read.
“’When I read the actual story- how Gatsby loves Daisy so much but can't ever be with her no matter how hard he tries- I feel like ripping the book in half and calling up Fitzgerald and telling him his book is all wrong, even though I know Fitzgerald is probably deceased,’” you started, a soft smile evident in your voice. “’Especially when Gatsby is shot dead in his swimming pool the first time he goes for a swim all summer, Daisy doesn't even go to his funeral, Nick and Jordan part ways, and Daisy ends up sticking with racist Tom, whose need for sex basically murders an innocent woman, you can tell Fitzgerald never took the time to look up at clouds during sunset, because there's no silver lining at the end of that book, let me tell you.’”
Bucky sighed, sinking further into your embrace. He didn’t even notice as the final firework took its bow amongst the stars or the burst of applause in the distance, too focused on the gentle vibrations in your voice, the smell of an old book as you flipped through the pages, stealing glances up at your face as you smiled with every word.
When you finished the chapter, you closed the book and set it gently upon the table. Your hands returned to his hair, carding through it and drawing a hum from his lips.
“You alright?”
Bucky nodded, feeling a little dizzy. He certainly felt alright enough for the numbness to wash away and a steady stream of shame and humiliation to rush in and take its place. Slowly, he lifted himself from your embrace, crawling back against the couch and sitting on the edge of the cushions. You followed him, scooting up against his side.
“I’m sorry.”
Your shoulders sank. “Bucky, please, don’t apologize for—”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with this stuff, Y/n,” Bucky sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose. Bile was etching its way up his throat. He’d never felt so helpless, so small, so vulnerable as if he were no more than a child. He was dead weight on your shoulders. He couldn’t put that on you, he couldn’t let you carry the burden he’d become.
“What if I want to?”
He dropped his hand, looking over at you to find you watching him with that same desperation he’d felt to keep you safe when he’d heard IEDs exploding in downtown Brooklyn just moments before. You reached out for his hand, putting it gently into your lap when you were met without resistance and began to trace over the lines in his palm.
“What if all I want to do is be with you? What if it’s all I can think about?” you continued, a low ache in your voice he didn’t expect. You lifted his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to the knuckles and drawing a shuttering breath from his lungs. “I’d hold you for an eternity if that was what you needed.”
Bucky stared at you in stunned silence. He was a mess, barely stable and breaking apart at the seams and... and here you were, willing to stitch him together with needle and string. You saw a mosaic when all he could see were broken pieces. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.
Instead, your hand made its way to his cheek, cupping at the side of his face. Your eyes softened, flickering down to his lips, the touch of your fingertips grazing over his jawline and along his neck like maybe you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat.
Could you feel his fears, too? The ones that warned him that you wouldn’t like the broken, disfigured fragments he’d become? Could you tell that he was sitting on the edge of a waterfall with the rush of water under his legs, just waiting to be pushed off the ledge? Did you know it was your hand on his shoulder pulling him back to the shore?
He leaned in closer, testing his courage, until his nose brushed against yours. So impossibly close, the heat of your breath warm against his skin. You stayed there for a moment, waiting, foreheads pressed together, until Bucky dared to close the space between.
Chaste and honest. Slow and aching. He kissed you and the first touch left him breathless, shaken as he drew in an inhale. You pulled him closer, hands wrapped tenderly on the sides of his face and he could feel your lips curve up into a smile as he turned toward you, wrapping his arm around your waist to hold you closer.
God, he’d never wished more for his left arm to find its way back to his body than he did in that moment. He just wanted to feel you in every way he could, to wrap himself around you in his entirety, to hold you the way a woman should be held.
You pulled back suddenly, laughing under your breath, and he realized your phone was buzzing on the table. You didn’t move for a second, just staring at him, trying to contain your laughter, and he found himself smiling so wide, it reached his eyes. His cheeks ached a little, too.
He realized it the moment you reached out and wiped your thumb over his lips, how you handled him with such intricacy and care, how you touched him like he was made of worth, how you looked at him like he was something to adore – he was in love with you.
You lunged for your phone, still smiling as you brought it to your ear. “Hey Nat, I’m kinda busy right— Oh.” Your face fell. “Are you alright?”
Bucky narrowed his eyes, his hand setting on your knee to give it a slight squeeze.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you said into the phone, pressing your lips into an apologetic line. “I’ll be right there.”
“Everything okay?” Bucky asked as you hung up the phone. You nodded, reaching back out for him and your hand found its way to the side of his face. You held it there, thumb brushing along his cheekbone fondly before you leaned in and pressed slow, brief kiss against his lips – something so casual, so intimate, as if you’d done it a thousand times before. He wished you’d do it a thousand more.
“I’m so sorry, but... I have to go,” you sighed, a frown pushing down at the corners of your mouth. “Please believe that I’d stay if it was anyone other than Natasha... Something happened at her job and I—”
“No apologies, right?” Bucky eased, resolving your guilt before you even had a chance to allow it to rise to full display. “You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“You’re sure?” You weren’t convinced, but he could tell from the hope in your eyes that you wanted it to be true.
“Yes,” Bucky replied sincerely. With the fireworks long faded into the night sky and the gentle chirp of crickets beyond your window, the only remaining cause of his racing heartbeat belonged to the woman sitting beside him, the casual touch of your hand against his face. He turned to kiss at the inside of your palm before he lowered your hand into your lap.
“You could stay here, if you want,” you offered nervously, glancing out to the window half wondering if a new set of fireworks would begin to light against the pitch black of the sky.
Bucky shook his head, though he smiled for you. “I should head home anyway. I’ve got a book to finish.”
He reached for The Silver Linings Playbook and held it up in his hand. He had a hard time letting his own smile fall with the way you were looking at him and he tucked the book against his chest as if it could feel his heartbeat. He wondered if you picked this particular book for him in hopes he might start seeing silver linings the way Pat did along the pages of the novel— how you seemed to, as well.
If anything, you might be his very own silver lining.
“Come on,” Bucky said, standing from the couch and extending a hand to you. “I’ll walk you there.”
You bit on the edge of your smile in an effort to contain it. It did no use and for that, Bucky was thankful.
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