#forgot the most important part: this man is a guy friends’ roommate! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

barzzal · 3 years

Text

between halls and thin walls → part two

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: swearing, sex toys, masturbation, sexual/suggestive themes, and yenno, mathew :(

↳ genre: angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*

↳ length: series; part one, part two (5.9k), part three, part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: listened to a lot of beyoncé for this one !!

note: part two’s here!! and i know it’s late for an update but i just wanna thank everyone for commenting on the first part 🥺 really glad that you guys liked it. reading your tags are everything to me it means a lot! happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

You come out of your bedroom dressed and ready for work. Your handbag was slung over the depth of your forearm as you headed for the kitchen and the other, scrolling past emails on your phone, admittedly bracing yourself for the mess you know will eventually greet you.

To your surprise, what you see instead were Mat Barzal’s guns rippling through the jet black sweater he had worn last night. A memory that sent your mind to less than eight hours ago, before eventually landing on what happened shortly when the two of you had woken up.

“Thank god you haven’t burnt the house down.” you kid, placing your handbag atop the island.

Mat spares you a quick glance, rolling his eyes whilst he lets you watch him whisk some eggs for breakfast.

“Like it?” he cocks, pertaining to how your eyes were pinned hard on his biceps that he was, for the most part, effortlessly sporting. It’s true, though. He didn’t need to flex because it was just there.

“Coffee or Juice?” he asks, as the kind friend and roommate that he is.

Anthony, as surprising as it was, takes incredibly long showers. If people hadn’t known him well, they’d easily think he’s abusing himself there. But you’ve got to admit that not having him around felt nice for you didn’t have to feel so seen with Mathew.

‘Course, there’s nothing more, like a fix-in on the side, to your set up. You just appreciate the feeling of not having to lie to Beau about all the ugly concealed underneath all the innocent gazes you and Mathew exchange.

“Coffee.” you answer shortly, realizing that you forgot the material you need for today’s meeting.

“Where are you going?” Mat asks when he catches you receding out into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking back, “Forgot something!”

He gets back to whisking the eggs when a chime comes off his phone. He takes it from the counter, placed just before the plates he left to dry last night, absent-mindedly putting the bowl he was holding onto the island, toppling over the green juice he has prepared for himself.

“Shit.” he curses as soon as he sees it for it was already spilling all over the place, making the mess you’ve been secretly anticipating the moment Mathew said he’d make breakfast.

Panicking at how you’d see he’s successfully screwed such a no-brainer task, Mat grabs the first thing he sees on the marbled surface and uses it to clean the mess he’d made.

“Huh.” he muses to himself, realizing that the silk fabric didn’t do much in helping him clean up. He tosses it over the sink carelessly and grabs a few napkin rolls from one of the cupboards.

So much for making an effort to feed Anthony Beauvillier.

“Now, that was fast.” you say with a smirk once you’ve entered the kitchen, startling Mathew as he continued cleaning up after his mess.

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” he sarcastically laughs, discarding the paper towels onto the sink along with the used ones.

Thankfully, your stuff was at the other side of the island so it was very much safe from all the chaos happening at the other end of the marbled surface. However, your laugh dies down the second you realize that your handkerchief was no longer where you’ve last put it.

“Hey,” you call on Mathew, “What’s up?”

“Have you seen my handkerchief? I know I left it somewhere.” you anxiously ask, eyeing every corner of the room hoping to see Nana’s handkerchief, the one she gave to you on your 18th birthday.

“What does it look like?” Mat asks, now holding a pan in his hand as he prepares breakfast.

You proceeded to describe your grandma’s handkerchief in the most specific and perhaps excruciating detail Mathew has ever heard someone talk about something as mind-numbing as a handkerchief.

Despite that, Mat lights up the moment it hits him, not realizing the bigger mess he’s about to walk into. He rejoices at how he knew exactly what you were looking for, “Oh! You mean this?”

With clueless eyes, you watch Mat go over the sink after he wipes his hands dry, fishing out an all too familiar fabric from the sink. Once your eyes land onto the cream colored silk handkerchief, with details carefully sewn by hand, drenching in what seems to be Mat’s morning drink, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach.

“What did you do??” The sudden rise in your voice startles an unsuspecting Mathew. You eagerly went over to his side and hastily snatched the smooth fabric off his hands, “It’s ruined!”

“What? I didn’t know it was yours!” Mat’s eyes are wild with confusion. Puzzled at how you were so fixated on the useless fabric. It didn’t help him anyway. There’s nothing much left to do but to throw it. It’s garbage.

“You ruined it!” you lash out, letting Mat get eaten up by the sudden anger bubbling inside your guts but he was rather quick in defending himself, “I didn’t know it was yours since I grabbed the first thing I could find. Why are you getting upset over a shit-ass handkerchief?”

Your mouth falls and you shake your head, finding his defensiveness quite appalling. “You’re an ass.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours.” he explains, “Come on, it’s just a stupid handkerchief I’ll just buy you a new one.” he tries to laugh the tension off, sporting his signature grin.

Mat take shots of the stunned expression on your face, “Stupid?” you repeat what he said, your eyes already starting to sting with tears. Clearly, you were far too overwhelmed to even acknowledge Mathew’s half-assed apology.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” your words bite and that’s when things took a turn for the worse.

“I said I was fucking sorry! What the hell do you want from me? Shit a fucking hanky?” he rans a hand through his hair, “Do you realize how childish you’re being right now?”

Outraged, and perhaps disappointed by how he was too high up his horse, your voice takes up a higher tone, entering what seems to be an early screaming match between you and Mathew.

“Could you just–” you breathe, “for one second– stop being so goddamn stupid and get over yourself!?” were words that welcomed Anthony the moment he stepped into the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist, a grin on his face visible as he poured himself a glass of water, inviting himself in the screaming match you and Mathew have exclusively put forth for him.

“Stupid is not when you’ve already apologized a hundred times! Stupid is being such a crybaby and a bitch about it!” Mathew retorts, gaining his better end of the argument.

“What a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Anthony chimes in, a hand resting on his chin, adoring his two best friends upon getting used to the best worst duo he’s ever known in his life.

“Shut up, Beau.” you say, throwing him a glare.

“Well, beautiful is definitely not in Y/N’s dictionary.” Mathew chides with a smirk, enough to earn himself a scoff from you.

“You know what? I don’t have the time for this bullshit.” you cuss, finally retreating, your already heavy heart taking a better hold on your thoughts, blocking your ability to even come up with a clever remark to come back at Mathew.

You throw the delicate, yet already ruined piece of fabric towards his way as hard as you could before marching out of the kitchen and head off for work.

“Fucking unbelievable.” Mathew curses under his breath once he catches the silk linen, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the morning task at hand.

You were fucking unbelievable.

Once the boys were left alone, Tito raises a brow, briefly looking back after your footsteps, “What happened here, anyway?” he asks, having realized what must’ve caused such a heated argument so early in the morning.

“I used this handkerchief to wipe the whole thing off and she just went ape shit! I mean–” Anthony cuts Mathew the moment he recognizes the thin cloth he was holding.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute, you used this?” he muses, stressing on the possibility of what might have been Mathew’s biggest mistake of the day, his eyes darting between him and the fabric.

With furrowed brows, admittedly weirded by how Anthony reacted almost the same way you did a while ago. “It’s just a handkerchief, man. I can go buy her a bunch if that’s what she wants.” he says defensively.

Anthony shakes his head wildly, his irises now dilated as he examined the stain already sitting on the material. “No no. Oh god no.” He says, snatching Mathew’s phone from the counter to google quick remedies that might remove the said stain from the already ruined cloth.

“What do you mean no? You guys spend way too much time together, you’re beginning to be as weird as her.” He scoffs, sipping on a glass of water.

“No, you dumbass. This was her grandma’s!” Anthony says, eyes fixated on the delicate handkerchief. Remembering how you’d told him how long it has been in your family that having Nana give it to you after all the years you’ve spent admiring it from afar meant so much to you than anything anyone could have possibly given you.

“So?” Mat casually replies, closing his arms to his chest before adding, “Is she dead or something? Didn’t you guys visit her for the Holidays?”

“What?? Why would you even say that?– You’re such a jerk.” Tito shakes his head, appalled by how Mathew easily shrugged the matter off when he knew full well how sentimental he himself could be.

“Well, how am I supposed to know?? If that thing’s so important I wouldn’t leave it on top of some random shit lying around!” He counters, defending himself for reaching for the nearest cloth he could find when he did whatever he does best when he’s in the kitchen.

Tito clicks his tongue and looks at Mathew exasperatedly, “Tell me, where did you find this exactly?”, to which Mathew only answered with a quiet voice, “It may or may not have been placed on top of her purse…” he avoids Tito’s gaze, finally catching on how he was the one in the wrong.

“See? Jerk. Now, go figure out how you’ll take the stain off.” Anthony demands, his voice embraced by a definitive tone. One that made Mathew know he wouldn’t be able to persuade him into letting this go.

Tito takes one good look at Mat’s catastrophic attempt to feed the house, striding his way out of the kitchen, “And make sure you apologize!” he adds, footsteps receding into the hallway, leaving Mathew scratching the back of his head out of guilt and frustration.

You have spent the following days either avoiding Mathew or ignoring his existence completely. Anthony talked to you the night that incident happened and assured you that he would do his best to have it fixed. You didn’t want to bother him nor take time off his already busy schedule, but you were just so bummed to even say a word.

That night, you spent the entire evening in your room, facetiming your mother, saying how much you’re missing home. You can’t bring yourself to tell her about the handkerchief. For some people, and that people being Mathew, it might’ve been just some silly thing but Tito knew how much that small piece of cloth meant to you.

Mathew, on the one hand, was for sure guilty to his bones. He didn’t see you that night nor the nights that followed. He didn’t think much of it but when he found himself searching for that same handkerchief in the hopes of replacing it only to find out that it was nowhere to be found in the market, was when he did realize that ruining the one thing that held you closer to home was the last push your non-existent relationship with him had to have for you to finally lose any ounce of amour nor civility you once had for him.

Anthony wasn’t a stranger for said changes either. He began waking up to a still apartment enveloped by a wall you profusely built between you and Mathew. You even unknowingly shut Tito out in the process as well. It was like you were grieving. Like, it was a whole different kind of heartbreak he knew he can’t get you out of that easily.

You tried making it up for your best friend of course. Knowing that you haven’t been yourself since that day. You thought about the possibility of having taken the whole thing too seriously that you might’ve overreacted a bit. Nonetheless, no matter how much you try to push it in the back of your head, Mathew’s mere presence began irking you in ways it never did back when you used to enjoy the bickering you exchange with him, especially in bed.

“Thanks for dinner, belle.” Anthony politely says, earning a smile from you so effortlessly upon hearing the pet name he uses for you. Something Mat only shrugged off, trying to piece out the same gratitude, “Thanks, y/n.” he genuinely adds. But as expected, he had nothing.

You pick up all the empty plates, including Mathew’s, who was sitting in front of you while Anthony sat at the end of the table. Tito hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes the plate from you, “Let me help you with that.” he says with the same kind eyes that has never failed to win you over.

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” you shortly answer, leading the way towards the kitchen, leaving one Mathew Barzal feeling small and alone at the dining table.

𖥸

If there was one thing you’d gladly acknowledge after all the years of watching people kiss Mathew’s ass was that he was is really good. He’s fast and he can do unimaginable damage on the ice. There’s no denying that he deserves to be the face of the New York Islanders. But we know you don’t care about any of that. The only thing you care about was how unbelievably good he is at everything he does that not even you or your pink rubber toy could suffice.

He was just that damn good.

As your eyes shut whilst you mount your pleasures on your own, biting your lips to choke in your own moans, Mathew handling you was what circled your mind since you started defiling yourself in the bathroom. You let your arousal be washed away by the warm water trickling down your skin, envisioning Mat’s rough hands grazing your body, touching your core like his hands were meant to do nothing else but that.

It was wrong and pathetic, but you couldn’t think about anything else. You and Mathew have been avoiding each other for days. The dynamic went so much worse than when you weren’t sleeping together and you know that Tito was bound to notice it soon. Thankfully, the boys were on another roadie for a week so you had quite some time to think things through about your current sitch with Mathew. You didn’t like any of it because it felt like you gave a fuck (which obviously, you didn’t). You just feel obligated to sort things out with the biggest ass that ever lived because you didn’t want to involve Tito into the mess you’ve wrongfully made yourself.

You hop off the shower feeling unsatisfied. You haven’t gotten laid since the last time you were with Mat. Which is sad, not just for you but also for her. You’d think considering the boys aren’t around you’d bring someone home, maybe even one or two. But just thinking about going on bars alone so you could find a potential bone-mate is already far too tedious and you weren’t in the right state to do so. You had so much going on at work, anyway. And you can always use a wand to scratch an itch. Neither would satisfy you more than how someone-who-will-not-be-named could, but you might as well be pathetic without having to hook up with some random dude whose name you’ll eventually forget in the morning.

You opted to wear an old pull-over you borrowed (took) from Tito years and years ago and partnered it with some leggings so you’d be comfortable enough for the rest of the night. You have nothing else to do and you are already fed up with your workload that watching a crappy movie off of Netflix doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

With a giant bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer in your hands, you march your way into the living room, ready to spend the night binge watching romantic comedies, crying and laughing in between. Or maybe just fall asleep on the couch while your comfort TV series is on.

The boys won three games out of the four that they had during the trip and you only saw the ones they won so you were thankful that you didn’t have to sit at home alone watching their faces fall after that OT lost against the Flyers. Anthony phoned you that night and you can just feel the relief in his voice that you didn’t have the time to see it. They weren’t playing like they should. Thankfully, they were able to bounce back.

Your eyes were beginning to grow tired halfway into the movie when you hear the front door open, followed by luggages dragged into the house tirelessly.

“Y/N?” Anthony calls out.

You hit the movie on pause and hurriedly make your way towards the hallway. “You’re home already?”

They were already taking their coats off when you met them halfway, Tito was putting his away while Mat had just taken off his toque and was running his hands through his hair, unconsciously meeting your eyes upon hearing your voice.

You quickly break it off when you give Tito a quick embrace and plant a small kiss on his cheeks, “I texted you.” he says, eyebrows quirked, surprised that you didn’t know.

In an effort to avert any more of his questions you immediately point towards the movie you had on, “Haven’t checked my messages, sorry.”

“So, you guys ate dinner?” you ask, passing Mat a quick look. One that came as a surprise because he wasn’t even hoping to hear a word from you given the way you two left things a little too on the edge, screwing with the whole thing even more.

Mat avoids your irises and faintly nods.

“Big win tonight huh? Told you, you can do it.” you say with a beaming smile, nudging Tito with your hips as you get back to watching your film. “You gotta do what you gotta do, babe.” he winks, lugging his stuff around towards his bedroom.

“Barz, don’t stay up, Trotz needs us first thing in the morning.” he looks back, reminding Mat who was already standing in front of his door, “Yeah. Sure.” he replies shortly with a tired voice.

You and Anthony bid your own goodnights whilst Mat mutters a quiet “Night.” when you nodded his way, clearly not enjoying any of the first awkward encounters he’s yet to have with you. Seven days is quite a reasonable time for your anger to dissipate, a short yet seemingly long period of time that’s just enough to kill off whatever guilt Mat had initially felt before you parted ways.

𖥸

“Alright, I’m off.” Tito casually declares, putting on his watch. “There’s food in the fridge, and tell Mat to go easy on my beers.” he gives you a knowing look as he bends down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

Tito had been seeing some mystery girl for quite some time now. He hasn’t told you anything spicy in particular but by the looks of it, you could already tell that she has him towed.

“Good luck, loverboy.” you say, swatting his hand away and pushing him out to the door. The two of you cringe at what you said, sharing one last laugh before you watch him disappear out into the hallway.

The apartment was cramped the whole day because Anthony and Mat had the day off. Tito had plans for the night, obviously. As per you, you had plans lounging in the living room, switching through channels in the hopes of stumbling on a show that isn’t half as bad than the rest.

Thankfully, a Sandra Bullock film was on HBO.

The Proposal, to be exact.

You decide to dive in the film with a cold bottle of beer on your hand. There was no way you’d be washing down the effects of a naked Ryan Reynolds with a glass of water. You haven’t gone mad.

The film was already at the part where Sandra was proposing to Ryan when you hear Mathew’s door open. You haven’t talked since the night they came back home other than the small nods you exchange upon passing by each other. All of which are mind-numbing and impossible to swallow. The awkwardness has not dissipated completely unlike what you presumed. You were just grateful Tito was always around that you didn’t need to be alone together.

Alarmed by another impending awkward encounter, you clear your throat and turn up the volume a little to remain focused on the film, investing your sole attention to it even if you have seen the movie countless times.

Mathew, in his sweats and a gray shirt on, carefully makes his way out the hallway and into the common area after snatching a glass of water from the kitchen. You see him move further into the room but you make sure that he knows you weren’t paying attention. You take that he must’ve been thirsty and needed a drink but you don’t see him move further in the corner of your eye like he was making his way back in his room. It almost seemed like he was actually waiting for you to look his way.

Hesitantly, you follow your gut feel and see him standing a few feet away from you. “Yes?” you ask when you catch him staring.

Mat blinks a few times, “Hi.” he takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness circling the two of you.

When the only thing he gets from you is a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head and proceeds to walk where you were seated.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice deep and clear enough to send your mind elsewhere.

Regardless, you contain yourself and return a polite smile, “No. Not at all.”

“So, what are we watching?” he sits once you gestured onto the other end of the couch.

“The Proposal.” you answer before throwing a question yourself, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting now?” you shake your head, absentmindedly chuckling. Not intending to make him feel that you’ve forgotten about what he’d done weeks ago.

“I couldn’t sleep.” he props his back and lets himself sink in the cloud couch, his legs spread wide eating up most of the space left for the two of you to share. “Oh. I only like him when he’s Deadpool” he points out, cringing at how you were watching another one of your romantic comedy films.

You roll your eyes, admiring how he’s trying to break the tension between the two of you despite his unsolicited sentiments, “I like it when we were on not-speaking terms.”

Mat mocks you for a while but decides to watch the movie so you let him be and get back to the film, letting a giggle slip every now and then. Something you thought Mat wouldn’t notice.

Watching the remainder of the film went with ease. ‘Course, Mat would steal a few glances here and there (ones he thought had gone unnoticed), but overall the quietude between the two of you was bearable. Almost like it was just two buddies hanging out.

Although, not long after, your eyes were torn away from the huge flat screen when Mat spoke, “By the way,” he looks at you and calls your attention.

Puzzled, you watch him take something from his pocket, “Here.”

Once you see what he has in his hands your heart froze. Mat carefully hands you the cloth with an apologetic smile; his eyes soft with a hint of hope as he watches your reaction.

“What– How?” you ask in bewilderment, failing to comprehend how he was able to fix the handkerchief. It looked the same as before. All of its details were in place, it was good as new. You were holding Nana’s handkerchief.

Mathew didn’t bother to dance around and just offered you a quiet chuckle, evidently enjoying the wide smile painted on your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he apologizes, shielding you from all the strings he had to pull just to get that cloth fixed up.

You hold the smooth and delicate piece in your hands as you look at Mat, letting your feelings get a better hold of you, “Thank you.” you say, unknowingly reaching out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Mathew’s hand instinctively finds your back to support you, startling himself in the process. Nonetheless, the thought was easily shrugged off by how close your faces were, your smiles fading once you meet each other’s gaze. You feel the same rush you felt the night you and Mat got involved for the first time. Your hand was placed rather endearingly on his cheek, your faces, just like all the other times, unreasonably close to each other. Mat then clears his throat and only looks you in the eye.

Afraid that the innocent hug would lead to something more, perhaps another mistake to be jotted down on the board, you breathe a laugh and break away, “Uh, thanks again. It really means a lot.”

Mat must’ve sensed that you were being cautious so he puts his guards up and returns a chuckle, “So… we good?” he asks, reaching out a hand your way.

Your fingers slide into his, gliding its way perfectly, your hands fitted well with his despite the obvious difference in proportion. His grip tightens in the most comfortable way possible.

A smile breaks off his lips once he hears you answer, “We’re good.”

“I should probably get some sleep.” Mat tells you the moment you pull your hand away.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” he adds.

You looked at him, not wanting him to be obligated to keep you company, “Oh, yeah. I’m a big girl.” you say, making Mathew grin, shaking his head.

“Alright. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Not picking up on whatever sloppy insinuation Mat has thrown out carelessly into thin air, he hears a simple “Mkay.”

Thus far, letting him know that his subtle invitation was far from being RSVP’d.

𖥸

“You’ll be in your room?” Mat scoffs, staring at the ceiling while he lays on his bed, “The fuck was that, Mat?” he scolds himself for always coming up with the worst things to say.

Mathew would be lying if he’d say he hasn’t thought about you (or doing you) for the past week of not being around home. But he definitely wouldn’t deny that the roadie kind of made things easier for him because then he didn’t have to stomach seeing you walk around the flat looking like the hot piece of ass that you were in his eyes.

Mat knows he needs to pull his shit together. He wasn’t some 13 year-old boy raging with hormones. He needs to control himself around you and he could only do that once he learns how to push this whole thing between the two of you behind him.

What happened with you and Mathew shouldn’t have happened at all. It was just a moment of weakness, and he hated that he’d let his dick (and apparently, him being one) ruin the relationship he once had with you.

Before that night, seeing you do yoga and work out on the terrace was just seeing you drenched in sweat, and in your work out clothes looking icky and constipated. Something he’ll later on tease you about and he’ll end up catching the water bottle you throw in his face. But now, after all that fucking, seeing you sweaty and all worked out in the same yoga pants is just like walking into a porn commercial. Like the ones they show before the actual porn. In fact, he doesn’t even have to watch any of it. Tents and Boners were pretty much sponsored by you from then on. It’s sick, and he knows it.

However, the tension he feels with you is palpable that he’s even certain that you feel it too. But how can he be wrong? He sees how your eyes blink a few times when he’s fresh out the shower, he sees you follow his trance when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, and you never fail to slide him shadowed hints with every touch you “accidentally” pass at him. The kind that’s short enough to remain innocent but not so much as to keep him at bay. Mat hated everything about it. He hated that he wanted you– and he hated that he thinks he might be right about you wanting him too.

All that self-loathing aside, did he regret it?

That was one of the things he feels bad about. Because as much as he wants to lie and push it aside, he didn’t regret any of it. He didn’t like you that way and just thought about you sexually but he just wishes that you could push past this and just be friends. He was still sexually attracted to you, yes. But he knows he’d eventually get over it and be back on his game. That is if he can ever find someone who’d be as good as how you were the last three times you’ve let him be with you because it would really help him a lot if he could stop picturing your mouth getting stretched by his cock every time he hops into the shower.

Mat was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. The shy banging sound made his heart beat rapidly in an instant, knowing full well that the two of you were alone in the house and that Tito was, in no way, going to be home for another hour or two.

A faint knock follows the first one before he gets to the door.

“Hi.” you greet him, a moment unfolding like it was déjà-vu.

“Hi.”

“Did I wake you?” you sheepishly ask, your hands balled into fists before eventually settling down to hug your own build, unsure of where to put your hands exactly.

Mat quickly shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t sleep myself.”

You offer him a smile, acknowledging how he’s been nothing but good to you ever since they got home. Of course you wanted to get your hands on him being that you were completely dry and horny ever since you’ve ignored him completely, but you haven’t gone mad and you weren’t a complete neanderthal. You can keep your hands to yourself and act like a decent human being.

“I’m sorry for making things weird between us.” you say, your eyes heavy with guilt. “But I’m only apologizing for being so unreasonable for the last couple of weeks.” you reiterated.

To which he only answers with, “You shouldn’t be. You have every right to be unreasonable– and I know that I’ve been a giant prick that day. It’s what I deserve.” he bites his lower lip, scratching his brow as he continues, “That’s why if there’s someone who owes someone an apology, it should be me. What I did was pretty crappy, so… I’m sorry.”

Like all the other times, Mathew towers over you wearing the same confidence he does when you’re around. Your bodies were reasonably apart from each other but close enough to mean something else if someone had walked by. Mathew was still in his room while you were out in the hallway, separated by the thin line made by the door frame.

You feel Mat’s steady breathing and everything went still. He looks down at you, pretty eyes drowning yours. His messed up bed hair ridiculously makes up for how dressed down he was. No, actually, he looks fine even when he is. And all of that sight instantly makes your throat dry as you feel something curl in your belly, enough to make your hands sweaty as the thought of tasting his lips again cruised your mind entirely.

Mathew was no stranger to the said feeling either. He watched you punish him more at how plump and inviting your lips were. Or how your hand brushed on your clothes as you remain uncomposed under his gaze.

Mat was becoming accustomed to how the two of you meet. Same time, same place, only this time, a different hallway. He steps further and crosses the line that divides the two of you, making you take a deep breath as his scent floors every nerve in your body. Waking what has been awake ever since that moment you shared back in the living room even more.

“Yeah, okay.” you gather yourself, “I– I should probably head back.”

Just by how his shoulders dropped, you knew you had said the wrong thing. And you hated that you did. Mat clears his voice and swallows, breaking off his gaze, “You probably should.”

“Good night, Mat.” you smile, trying to regain yourself.

“Good night.” he replies as he watches you turn your back before finally closing the door behind him.

Frustrated for he was already starting to feel things more than just being “sorry”, Mat leans against the door and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to get you out of his head.

He was about to walk away from the door and sleep off his frustration when he hears your faint footsteps on the other side of the door. He rests his head back on the wooden surface and sighs, “You’re still out there, aren’t you?”

There was a total silence for a moment, devoid of the knowledge of how you had your fist, ready to knock yet again, suspended in mid-air.

Mathew hears you deny sheepishly, “No.”

You hear him let out a small laugh, knowing that he was trying to contain himself.

The door sprung open again, and for a second you thought how what you’re about to walk into will start another mess for you and Mathew. But how could you possibly think about it that way when you have nothing else but this man standing at the other end?

A friend that took no seconds to waste as he finally lets his thirst and perhaps foolishness, get the better hold of him once he cages your heated face in his hands, crashing into your lips as fast as he’d taken you to his end of that thin gray line that has once irkingly parted him from you. A gray line you’re both willing to cross if that meant sharing another night in between halls and thin walls.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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adhd-disaster-willie · 3 years

Text

you're the one that brings the sun; chapter 1/6

Summary: Alex is prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Willex roommate au!

Warnings: Swearing

Notes: The title is from the song “I Dare You” by the Regrettes. I’ve actually planned this fic out so here’s to hoping I don’t get burned out halfway through. It might end up having 6 or 7 chapters, 5 is kind of just an estimate.

---

When Alex was 11, his mother proudly plastered his report card to the fridge and exclaimed that one day, her little boy would go to Harvard. His father gripped his shoulder with pride and Alex beamed up at his parents like they’d just told him he had superpowers. 3 years later, he was 14 and teetering on the edge of failure in the majority of his classes. He wasn’t stupid by any means, just preoccupied. He’d started a band with his best friends and that felt like the most important thing in the whole world, and high school was new and scary, so it was easier to not pour all his focus into school. His parents’ smiles faltered but they kept up hope, Alex could tell. 2 years later, he stood shaking and crying outside of the Molina’s garage and suddenly, the concept of going to college begun to feel distant and fake. But he’s 18 now, and somehow, miraculously, gazing at the piles of boxes in the back of Ray’s car and swallowing down a lump in his throat.

It sure isn’t Harvard, but a part of Alex feels giddy at the fact that he’s attending a public college that was relatively easy to get into; oh his parents would be rolling in their proverbial graves. What didn’t make him quite so happy though, was the looming fact that he’d be living with some random person, because for some godforsaken reason, the college wouldn’t allow freshmen to choose their roomates. Some bullshit about meeting new people and socializing.

“Hey, ‘Lex. Dude, you’ll be fine.” Luke shakes his shoulders, before swinging one arm around him and the other around Reggie.

“Says the one who isn’t even going to college,” Alex grumbles, slipping from Luke’s grip and into the front seat of the car.

“Yea cause I don’t need it. Not my fault you’re both nerds,” Luke retorts.

“I’m not a nerd, I just like to have insurance-”

“Yea, back-up plan, safety net, heard it a million times. Reggie’s a nerd though.”

“Old news, dude,” Alex says.

“I am not a nerd!” Reggie protests indignantly.

“Tell that to your 2 years of college credit in math.”

Luke nods in agreement. “Nerd.”

“Math is fun!”

“You’re horrible.” Alex makes a mock gagging noise.

Julie comes bounding out of the house, her arms decked with various baked goods. She tosses herself in the backseat beside Reggie and Luke, looking quite pleased with herself at being able to force Luke to sit in the middle. “Tía was apparently up all night baking,” she explains, passing the sweets up to Alex. “Don’t be surprised if she shows up at your dorm with food every day.”

Alex snorts. “I would not object to that.”

Julie sighs, leaning back in her seat. “You guys are so lucky, I’m tired of high school. Damn September birthday,” Julie grumbles. Her birthday is just after the cut off date, so she would be 18 for the majority of senior year, but is just barely too young to be in the same grade as the boys.

Reggie leans over and pats her arm sympathetically, earning an offended squeak from Luke, who’s only pushed further into the back of the seat.

“Don’t worry!” Alex chirps sarcastically. “You get to spend more time with Luke, since he’ll be squatting in your garage!”

“Oh, joy,” Julie deadpans.

“I am not a squatter!” Luke protests, kicking the back of Alex’s seat.

“No kicking! I’m holding food!”

“Y’know Alex, you’ve been staying in the studio for 2 years, you’re not one to talk!” Luke argues.

“I have a job.”

“A stupid job.”

“A stupid job that gets you free coffee.”

Reggie nodds to that, chewing on a cookie. “Can’t risk losing your coffee privileges.”

Julie groans loudly and stuck her head out the window. “DAAAAD! Let’s goooo!” She cries.

“Wow, I didn’t know you wanted to get rid of me so badly,” Alex says, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Oh shut up Lexi, I just wanna meet your’s and Reggie’s new best friends!” Julie says, laughing.

“I’m not gonna be best friends with my roommate.”

“Yea, Alex forgot how to do that!”

“Luke I will smother you in your sleep!”

At this, Ray approaches the car with a raised eyebrow. “No one’s planning a murder, I hope?” He asks, chuckling as he slides into the drivers seat.

“No sir!” Reggie replies, grinning.

“Not yet,” Alex mumbles under his breath.

“Alright boys, who’s ready for college!” Ray says, starting the car.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

---

“And that’s the last of it!” Ray claps a hand over Alex’s shoulder and smiles encouragingly.

Alex nods tensely, gripping the strap of his fannypack tighter.

The dorm’s probably as good as he’s gonna get. One reasonably sized bedroom complete with two horribly uncomfortable beds, a kitchen with a fridge that was in no way large enough to fit even a weeks worth of meals, a tiny living room that would probably fit a couch and a TV at the most, and a bathroom that smelled suspiciously of mustard. Really it isn’t terrible, but Alex has a habit of noticing every little detail, especially the ones that could be a problem at some point. His roommate hasn’t arrived yet, so he’s standing amongst his various boxes, anxiety pulsing in his chest.

Julie grips his hand tightly and smiles, tears pricking the edges of her eyes. “Hey, Alex, you’re gonna be okay.” She squeezes his hand briefly.

Alex nods, exhaling shakily. “Yea, yea I know. It’s just…”

“A change, I know. But this is a good change. And-” she hauls Reggie and Luke over to them. “-we’re all here if you need to call someone and talk. And dad, and Tía, and I bet your roommate will be super cool.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“Just pray he’s not a football player,” Reggie stage-whispers, shuddering.

“God, don’t even suggest that!” Alex whines.

Encouragements and teary hugs are passed along, as well as a promise to meet at the Olive Garden nearby for dinner in a few hours, and then Alex’s posse is off to get Reggie settled, and Alex is left alone in the dorm. Alright.

Alex takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before beginning to wander the dorm. He’s anxious to start unpacking without his roommate and risk doing something that they wouldn’t like. Even choosing a bed feels wrong, he really doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with this person. But leaving the dorm meant people everywhere so that was a definite no. He sighs, lowering himself to the wooden floor and pulling out his phone.

“Yea… uh huh. Yes Caleb, I got here fine. No the Uber driver did not try and kidnap me. The boxes- the boxes are not too heavy. Okay. Okay. Yea, bye. Mhm.”

Alex looks up hesitantly upon hearing the voice nearing his dorm. The person standing in the doorway is well… less of a person and more of a large stack of boxes threatening to fall over any second. “Hello?” Alex stands up and makes his way to the boy stood in the entrance.

Said boy pokes his head out from behind his boxes and grins crookedly. “Hi, uh, I’m Willie!” And well, Alex is a goner. He swallows thickly, breath catching in the back of his throat. Willie attempts to adjust the boxes but ultimately fails, sending them tumbling to the ground amongst several muttered curses. “Well… nothing fragile in there,” he falters slightly. “I think.”

“Um…”

“Right! Sorry, uh.” Willie holds his hand out and Alex shakes it tentatively.

“Alex.”

“Alex, cool.” Willie smiles again, his dark eyes twinkling as he does so, smile lines popping out. He brushes his hair -which looks so soft and pretty- behind his ear to reveal a small golden hoop on his right lobe. Alex is dead, actually 100% dead. Because he’d been prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Alex forces out a smile, all too aware that he’s still standing stiff and awkward in front of Willie, his grip on his fannypack tight enough to make his knuckles glow white. Then Willie coughs as some sort of attempt to fill the silence. “Sorry!” Alex squeaks. “Do you need help with the… the uh, boxes?”

“Oh yea, that’d be great!” Willie replies, beaming. “I don’t think there’s anything fragile in there, but y’know, my memory is absolute shit so if I broke some fancy china dishes I didn’t even know I owned, don’t be too shocked.”

Alex laughs anxiously. “Yea uh… I didn’t start unpacking cause I um… I didn’t want to claim a bed and stuff with-without your input?” His voice cracks at the end and he winces because Jesus fucking christ Alex.

Willie chuckles and Alex notes that he has the kind of laugh that echoes through your whole body and settles right in your heart. “ ‘S cool, man, I don’t mind.”

“Right, cool. Do you uh… are you okay if I take the bed farthest from the window? I’m not- not much of a morning person, and the window is… it’s east facing” Alex mutters, his gaze focused on his feet which are rocking back and forth at a rapid pace.

“Yea, of course,” Willie replies. “I don’t think I’ve woken up later than 8 in 5 years.”

“That’s horrific!” Alex cries, momentarily forgetting his anxiety. He steps back and blushes an even deeper red upon realizing how stupid he’s being. “I mean- I just… sorry, I just meant that-”

“You’re good, dude. I don’t bite.”

Alex cracks a tentative smile. “So uh… I’ll just start unpacking then.”

Willie shoots him a thumbs up and smiles once again, which is a thing he apparently does a lot.

An hour later, Alex’s belongings are unpacked and organized and the room feels a bit more his. He feels slightly lighter, exhaling and closing his eyes briefly. This isn’t so bad. Fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, he shuffles out into the living room where Willie is presumably unpacking. Except that he’s not.

Willie is laying upside down on a couch that somehow appeared while Alex was gone and he’s flipping through a tattered magazine while his belongings remain mostly unpacked.

“This quiz says that I should try roller skating,” Willie sniffs. “Some personality test this is- oh hey Alex!” He scrambles up so that he can look Alex in the eyes properly, and points to the magazine in his hand. “Found this in a box, not sure how it got there since I’ve never even subscribed to one of these, but there’s a chocolate chip cookie recipe in here.” He stops for a moment, pondering. “Personally I prefer peanut butter cookies, ooh especially fresh out of the oven. There’s this bakery near my house that-”

“Did you get… any unpacking done?” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow.

Willie looks around at his boxes and laughs sheepishly. “Well I unpacked one and opened 3 so… some, yes.”

“Where’d the couch come from?” Alex pokes the cushion warily, as if afraid that it’s full of bugs.

“Room across the hall,” Willie says, pointing. “They both brought couches and didn’t have room for two we got the one with more stains.”

“Right.” Alex’s reply is forced and tense, and he winces upon realizing. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected his roommate to become so comfortable so fast and he felt like he was several steps behind. Damn extroverts. Drumming his hands against his thighs, Alex slowly sits down on the other side of the couch, pointedly looking ahead instead of at Willie.

“So.” Willie scoots closer, sitting cross legged with his elbows on his thighs and chin resting in his palms. “What’s your major?”

Small talk, god Alex hates small talk. “Um, music,” he answers.

“Ah, that’s cool dude.” Willie nods.

“Uh, what about you?” Alex asks.

“Art,” Willie replies, grinning. “Be prepared for paint stains, like, everywhere.” He chuckles and nudges Alex’s shoulder playfully. Alex is going to implode, he’s sure of it.

Alex laughs awkwardly. “So uh… what’s wrong with rollerskating?”

Willie shoves his shoulder again. “Everything, dude! Well-” he cuts himself off, thinking. “-I just kinda suck at it, definitely better at my skateboard.” He jerks his head in the direction of a skateboard leaned against the wall and Alex wonders how he didn’t notice that.

“Oh, that’s- that’s cool. I rollerblade but I uh, I can’t skateboard to save my life.”

Somehow, they slip into a comfortable rhythm, and Alex notes that his anxiety no longer has him in a chokehold. Willie seems to have that affect; he’s just so… open. Alex doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s subconsciously created a folder in the back of his mind labelled “Willie,” and he doesn’t think he’s capable of forgetting anything Willie will ever say to him.

“- that’s why airplane food is just, horrible. Cause you basically lose like 30% of your tastebuds because of the elevation.” Willie smiles at Alex, gaging his response.

Alex would rather die than admit that he’s still trying to figure out how the topic of airplane food came up, so he just nods enthusiastically, actively stopping his eyes from dancing across Willie’s face, which is practically glowing in the evening sun. Evening. Shit. Alex pulls out his phone frantically. “Shit.” He says it out loud this time.

Willie’s brow furrows in confusion. “You good, dude?”

“Uh yea I’m just, I’m supposed to be meeting my fam- uh my friends for dinner and I have to be there in like 5 minutes.” He ignores the way Willie’s expression falls, convinced he’s just seeing things.

“Yea um, of course. I won’t keep you.” Willie stands up, his posture the stiffest that Alex has seen it in the whole 3 hours they’ve been acquainted for. “I’ll just… order a pizza.”

Alex hesitates in the doorway, weighing his options, which has never been his strong suit. “Do you want to join me?” He blurts impulsively. Willie looks at him in surprise. “I mean only- only if you want of course, we’ve only really uh, known each other for a few hours and you- you probably don’t want to, it was stupid. I’ll just- I’ll just go-”

“No! I’d… I’d like to, eating pizza alone in the dark sounds a little pathetic,” Willie responds.

Alex smiles genuinely. “Ok, ok that’s uh. Cool. That’s cool.”

---

Alex is already regretting this. The restaurant isn’t too crowded, he notices with a relieved breath. But it’s loud. It’s loud and yet only one group of people is talking. Alex doesn’t even need to guess who.

“Ok but- no- no- the whole song would be better!”

“Say banjo one more time, I dare you!”

“Banjo.”

“Julie, what the hell?! This is betrayal!”

“You stole my breadstick, it’s only fair.”

Alex coughs, quieting the table to a dull roar.

“Alex!” Julie pulls him down to sit next to her. “Oh? Who’s this?” Reggie is grinning wickedly and Luke waggles his eyebrows in a way that makes Alex want to shave them off.

“This is uh, my roommate Willie,” Alex responds, his voice raising an octave. “He didn’t have plans so I uh… I invited him, I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s ok!” Julie pats the space on the other side of Alex and Willie sits down, appearing… oddly nervous.

“Congrats! Your Alex’s first new friend since,” Luke taps his chin, pretending to think. “7th grade.”

Alex’s face promptly falls into his hands. He’s seriously considering the whole, shaving Luke’s eyebrows in his sleep thing.

Reggie leans forward conspiratorially. “What’s your opinion on banjos?” He asks, making a point to ignore Luke’s dramatic complaining.

Willie raises his eyebrows, clearly confused. “Um. No comment?”

“I’m… sorry about them,” Alex says apolegetically. “Uh, this is Luke, Reggie, and Julie-” he gestures to each of them; Reggie waves, beaming happily. “-and Julie’s dad should be…” He trails off, looking around.

“He had to take a phone call, something about Carlos refusing to eat dinner until he proves the house is haunted,” Julie explains, clearly biting back a laugh.

“I… okay.” Alex shakes his head. “Are we waiting for more food or did Reggie eat it all?”

“Ha ha,” Reggie punctuates his statement by sticking out his tongue. “We’re waiting for the actual meals-”

“Yea Luke already ate the entire bread basket.” Julie shoots a glare in Luke’s direction.

“Well… you suggested we get hotdogs,” Luke grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Payback.”

“Okay,” Julie laughs.

Willie leans over to whisper loudly to Alex, “What’s the story with the hotdogs?”

“Don’t tell him!” Luke cries, leaning across the table and slamming his palms down.

“We don’t talk of the hot-dogs,” Reggie mutters miserably.

“Food poisoning.” Alex shudders slightly. “Very bad food poisoning.”

“We almost died,” Reggie says, eyes widening. “Like, for real death. I’m pretty sure I was a ghost for a few seconds.”

“Reg, you were not a ghost,” Alex says, speaking like Reggie’s a 10 year old talking about monsters under his bed.

“I was!”

“You were not!”

“So,” Luke smiles mischievously, taking Reggie and Alex’s bickering as an opportunity to apparently torture the latter. Despite Alex’s warning glares, he turns to Willie with an innocent expression. “What kind of music do you like?”

“Luke,” Alex hisses, all too familiar with Luke’s antics.

“Hmmm.” Willie is painfully oblivious to Alex’s panicked expression as he mulls over his answer. “A lot of stuff really.” He shrugs. “Rock, pop, I like those lo-fi playlists when I’m trying to study.”

Luke nods, clearly pleased with the answer, but he isn’t done and Alex wants to hide under the table. He knows what’s coming next. “Thoughts on… drummers?”

“Luke.” Alex is seconds from lunging across the table.

“Drummers?” Willie asks, tilting his head confusedly.

“Yup,” Luke says, popping the p and still smiling like he’s some sort of innocent puppy-dog and not an absolute bastard.

“Hot,” Willie jokes. Alex can’t even hide the way he manages to choke on his own spit, and Luke and Reggie have never been great at subtlety, turning to Alex with matching shit-eating grins. Willie either doesn’t notice or is kind enough not to comment on it. “Yea, pretty sure young Roger Taylor was my gay awakening.”

Reggie is full on giggling now, and Alex’s entire face is gleaming a bright red. Willie glances around the table, puzzled.

“Mhm.” Luke nods before swiftly turning to Alex. “Hey Alex, by the way, you left your drumsticks in the car, do you need them back?” His voice is sickeningly sweet, coated in some sort of poisoned honey. It’s Willie’s turn to choke on nothing, failing to disguise it as a spontaneous coughing fit.

“Fine,” Alex squeaks as he sinks further down in his seat. If he pulls out his phone and messages Luke a flurry of threats, that’s no one’s business. He dares a glance at Willie, who has become quite fascinated with his hands, which are tapping out a mindless rhythm on the table, his cheeks and the tips of his ears dusted red.

Needless to say, Alex makes sure Luke doesn’t even get to look at the next bread basket.

---

I hope you liked it! Tell me if you want to be added to the taglist :)

I’m hoping to update at least once a week, but who knows. Ok thats all.

chapter 2

Chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

#willex #jatp #willex fic #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willie jatp #willie nolastname #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #ray molina #willow writes #ytotbts #you’re the one that brings the sun

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levi-lover · 3 years

Text

New Light Part: 1

College Levi x Reader(Modern AU)

W/C: 2.5

T/W: Pretentious Hipster Levi lol

A/N: Levi is a moody English major who spends his free time reading at the local cafe and yes, I think that is sexy as hell. This is a slowburn piece kinda inspired by the Hulu show Normal People! I love that show but I could never watch it again bc it breaks my heart too much lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! (Part Two will be up soon! & this picture is from Pinterest)

I’ve put all the parts in one list here: New Light Masterlist

“I just don’t get it.” You huffed and leaned back into your chair.

“Don’t worry, this stuff takes time to learn!” Hange looked at you earnestly.

The two of you had been studying at Maria’s Coffee for a few hours. Your genetics midterm was in a few days and you were completely lost. You met Hange on your first week, you anxiously walked into the lecture hall thinking this would be an easy pass to fulfill your science credit. Oh boy, were you wrong. Immediately, you were thrown into the depths of mitosis and chromosomes. The only good thing that came out of it was your new friendship with Hange. On your first day, Hange complimented your sweater and asked if they could sit with you. Hange was a genetics major so this class was easy, hell, it was fun for them. They offered to tutor you so you bought them coffee during your study sessions in return.

“Yeah, you’re right but still,” You said in between sips of your coffee. “How do you like this stuff?”

“Oh, it’s fascinating to me, it’s crazy how we’re made up of tiny cells and in those cells is our human history but we can’t even see it. It’s like the world’s smallest yet most important puzzle.” Hange’s eyes lit up as they continued speaking.

You listened and continued to drink your coffee. It was late but the cafe was still busy with college students hurrying to type their papers and study for tests. The lamps left soft yellow shadows on the cream colored walls. The cafe was homey and it felt like it was a cottage pulled straight out of a forest. From the back of the cafe, you could see the entrance. It was raining and people ran across the sidewalk with their jackets over their heads. You laughed through your nose.

“Hey! Are you listening?” Hange questioned.

“What? Of course, I am. Science is the answer to everything, right?” You quipped.

Hange rolled their eyes and went back to their textbook. You kept your eyes on the front door. It had been a few days since you had seen your coffee shop friend. The word friend was a loose term for your relationship with the dark-haired boy. Your relationship started one day when you were sitting in the spot you are now, it was late, close to 1 am and after downing two cups of coffee you needed to pee. Across from you was a small man holding a used copy of Slaughterhouse Five, he was dressed in all black and was munching on a muffin. You asked him to watch your stuff, he nodded and pushed his hair away from his gray eyes. From that point on, you developed a friendship founded on your mutual respect for privacy yet concern over each other’s well-being. It became an unspoken rule that this was the only place you would meet. Your attention returned to your work, if he wasn’t going to show up then whatever, he was just another stranger.

“Hange, I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

“What?! Why?! We haven’t even gotten to the good part, wait until you hear about what happens to the amino acids during replication.” The same familiar look of excitement washed over Hange’s face.

“Look as exciting as it all sounds, I’m gonna have to pass.” You began to gather your things when the front door opened. You looked up and saw the dark-haired boy. He looked as pretty as always with a beige tote bag draped across his shoulder, droplets of rain hung onto his dark strands. Next to him stood a tall, handsome blonde man who was looking around the cafe. His eyes stopped when he reached your table and he lifted a hand and waved at you. You looked at him confused.

“LEVIIII!! ERWIIIN!!” Hange yelled and waved their arms. People looked up at them with annoyance.

“Wait, you know them?” You asked.

“Who, those idiots? Yeah. I forgot to tell you I invited them to study with us. Levi promised to help me write a paper,” Hange said nonchalantly. “Shit! I should have asked you if that’s okay. Is it?”

You looked down and felt your face redden, “no worries, it’s not a problem.”

“I’ll introduce you to them, they’re buttheads but they don’t bite.”

You sat back down and looked at your notebook as the dark-haired boy and the tall blonde walked towards you. A bundle of nerves planted themselves in your stomach but you couldn’t understand why. You’ve known this man for a couple of months now, slowly building a friendship at your own pace. It was nice to have control over something in your life for once but life always has a different plan for you; it was time to properly meet the dark-haired boy. All rules are eventually broken.

You ruffled the papers in front of you and took another sip of your drink but it was empty. Shit, you thought. The two men were standing in front of you and Hange at this point. The dark-haired boy looked at you, his brows furrowed.

“Hey, you’re House Coffee,” he said in a monotonous tone.

The blonde man and Hange looked at him confused, “wait, you know her?” Hange asked.

You shook your head, “nope.”

The dark-haired boy looked at you confused.

“Well, kinda, actually,” You muttered.

“Huh, that’s cool!” Hange announced. “Levi’s a little bitch but you probably already knew that.”

“Shut up, Four Eyes,” Levi retorted.

The blonde man laughed, “my name is Erwin. I’m a Political Science and History double major.” He gave you a dashing smile and lifted his hand.

Levi rolled his eyes, “humble much?”

Erwin gave him a glare before returning his clear blue eyes to you. You chuckled and raised your hand to his. It was a firm handshake.

“My name is (Y/N), it’s very nice to meet you, Erwin. And it’s Levi, right?” Your head turned to the dark-haired boy and he blushed slightly. Hange and Erwin exchanged a look.

Hange raised their hands slightly and asked, “I’m confused.”

“When aren’t you.” Levi remarked.

“Oh, shut it you. I thought you two already knew each other.”

You placed your hands around the empty mug, hoping it would stabilize your nerves. “Know might be a strong word, I guess we’ve seen each other here before?“ You shrugged and looked at Levi.

He nodded, “I agree, we sometimes look after each other’s stuff and talk about books.”

“Good to know. I’m glad Levi has someone else to talk to,” Erwin declared.

They pulled out two chairs and placed them around the table. Erwin pulled out his laptop and his binders, everything was color-coordinated down to the tabs and pens. Levi pulled out a yellow notepad and a beat up copy of On the Road and single black pen. He tried his best to act natural but was unsure how to act around you and his friends. He wasn’t prepared for his two worlds to crash, it wasn’t that he was ashamed to know you. He enjoyed your company but it was something that was special to him. He didn’t want to share those precious late night hours with anyone else but you.

“I’m going to go buy a tea, (Y/N) do you want anything?” Erwin said pointing at your empty cup.

“Uh no-” You were about to say before Levi interrupted you.

“12 oz house coffee, splash of soy,” He stated.

Hange raised their eyebrows, in all their years of friendship he had never bothered to learn their coffee order. Erwin was equally as surprised. You stared at Levi, unsure what to say.

“Alright, you got it,” Erwin said before grabbing your empty mug.

Levi and Erwin got up and walked to the front counter. Hange grabbed your arm and you looked at them surprised.

“How long have you known Levi?” They whispered.

“Uh, like I said, ‘know’ is a strong word but a couple of months. We just sit near each other and sometimes talk. It’s not a big deal.”

“I can’t believe Levi didn’t tell me he knew you,” Hange said in disbelief.

“Did you tell him about me?” You retorted

“No but still. If I knew my two friends knew each other, I would have set this study party together a long ass time ago.”

You shrugged and went back to looking at your notes. By this time, Levi and Erwin were walking back to the table. Erwin was holding a mug of tea and your coffee, Levi was holding a mug of tea in one hand and an apple muffin in another. Erwin handed you your coffee and you thanked him. He sat in front of you and Levi opposite of him. Erwin cleared his throat and asked, “how do you guys know each other?”

“We met in genetics class,” You responded.

“You’re a science major, too?”Erwin asked.

“No, I’m a humanities major but I still need my science requirement so I’m taking this class and majorly regretting it.”

“Hey, it’s not all bad. We’re friends now,” Hange nugged their elbow at you, you gave them a smile and nodded.

“What a reward,” Levi muttered.

You held back a laugh which made Levi smile, he hid it behind his book.

“How do the three of you know each other?” You pointed to the trio.

Hange shot up from their text book and exclaimed,“oh, (Y/N) you’re going to love this so it all started four years ago…”

It was their freshman year, Levi’s uncle had just dropped him off at the dorms and left him alone to unpack. Levi didn’t have much except for a suitcase of clothes, a bed sheet set and a small box of books. He started to put his clothes away in the drawers when the door opened and a lean, tall blonde boy and his father walked in, pulling a cart of the boy’s belongings.

“Hi, you must be my roommate. My name is Erwin,” he stood at the doorway awkwardly waving at Levi.

“Levi.”

“Hello, I’m Erwin’s dad, nice to meet you.”

Levi gave him a small smile and continued to organize his side of the room, it took about fifteen minutes in total. After Erwin’s dad left, Levi and Erwin sat on their respectives beds in silence. It took them awhile but eventually they bonded over their mutual love of Russian poetry. Over the next few weeks, they built a symbiotic relationship filled with chore charts and late night study hangs. Levi genuinely enjoyed Erwin’s presence, he was his first friend outside of his hometown. Erwin felt the same way too. He never had a huge opportunity to meet people since he was homeschooled until his final two years of high school. They had found a companion in each other.

The week before Thanksgiving break, Erwin convinced Levi to host a small gathering in their dorm. Levi hesitantly agreed and Erwin managed to get his hands on a weed brownie. They invited a few of their floormates and shared the goods and drank a single Mike’s Hard Lemonade that Hange brought. They sat on the concrete floor and waited for the weed to hit after thirty minutes, no one was high. One of their floormates, Zeke, took a whiff of the brownie and laughed.

“Erwin, this is a fucking regular brownie,” he glanced at Erwin who was tenderly sipping out of the bottle. Zeke’s roommate, Porco laughed.

“No, it can’t be,” Erwin responded. Hange looked around nervously and Levi glared at Zeke.

“Ha, whatever. This kickback is lame anyways. Let’s go,” Zeke and the others left.

Hange, Erwin, and Levi stayed in silence for a few minutes until Hange spoke, “I thought it was a good brownie.”

Erwin gave them a half-hearted smile and looked down at the bottle. Levi sighed and walked to his closet.

“Now that those fucktards are gone, let’s have a real party,” Levi said as he pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

Erwin looked at Levi, shocked. “How long have you had that?”

“My uncle gave it to me when he dropped me off. As a going away present.” Levi shrugged it off.

The rest of the night was spent taking shots of whiskey and playing cards games, it was the first night of many.

“Wait, really? Erwin you bought a dud brownie.” You held your side as you laughed.

Erwin looked sheepishly at his drink. Levi had a smirk on his face.

“Yeah! Looking back at it now, it’s the funniest thing ever. But those other guys were jerks. I don’t remember their names now or anything but I hope they’re living horrible lives,” Hange proclaimed.

“I believe it and I hope so too.” You wiped a tear from your face and felt Levi’s gaze on you.

Levi had never seen you laugh that hard, he liked this side of you. He went back to notating his book but he couldn’t deny the feeling of warmth in his chest. The four of you remained in comfortable silence for a while. The coffee shop began to slow down as the clock ticked further into the night.

“This has been a lot of fun but I think I’m going to call it,” Erwin’s deep voice broke the silence of the table.

The three of you nodded in agreement and began to pack your bags. You watched Levi’s slender fingers gently put his belongings into his tote bag. His dark hair was getting long, it brushed against his cheek as he moved his body. You looked away quickly, you knew nothing could happen between the two of you but watching him interact with his friends casted a new light on him. Levi, what a name, you thought. For the past couple months, he was your secret friend, someone you could talk to without feeling judged because he was so removed from your everyday life but now, it was different. You both shared a mutual connection and of course, you shared the countless hours spent in this cafe.

The four of you made casual conversation as you exited the cafe. The cold air whipped your face and you tugged your scarf tighter around your neck.

“Hey, do you need a ride? I’m parked a block away,” Erwin asked you.

“Don’t worry, hot stuff. I’ll walk her home.” Hange winked at Erwin, Levi rolled his eyes.

“I live a few blocks away but thank you. It was really nice to meet you Erwin and Levi it’s nice to finally know your name.”

Levi looked down at the ground and a pink glow appeared on his face, “yeah, this was nice.”

You watched them turn around and walk in the opposite direction for a moment before turning to Hange. The air was cool and the clouds had parted, leaving open an endless sky peaking through the buildings and the trees. It had become a ritual for the two of you to walk home after study sessions since you lived a few blocks away from each other. Hange made casual conversation on your walk home but you hardly paid attention. You kept on thinking about Levi and wishing you never learned his name.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi art #aot #levi ackerman x reader fluff #modern levi ackerman #levi aot #aot fic #levi ackerman fic #levi lover fic #attack on titan fic #snk fic #college levi ackerman #new light

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getitinbusan · 3 years

Text

The Music Room -

Min Yoongi 18+ Smut

Part of the Lost Boys Series

JIN • NAMJOON • YOONGI •

Warnings: 18+ smut, MF sex, MF oral, A playful bite, Swearing.

Words: 3075

Summary: A stand alone series about a misfit friend group of seven boys. These stories are a day in the life snip it of who they are, where they came from and how they love.

The melody drifting up the barren hall floated through the air like it was made for your ears alone.

The poetic rhythm of the keys made you pause, listening enviously at the talent of whomever was playing.

But who was playing? It was 8 am on a Friday, the room should be vacant. Pulling up the music rooms schedule on your phone, you weren't wrong. The first spot of the day was yours for the entire semester.

You knocked lightly. The sound stopped and the bench made it's familiar dragging noise across the concrete floor.

Pulling the heavy windowless wood open by it's cold handle you peeked inside. He scrambled, seemingly embarrassed, shoving his sheet music into his backpack.

"You should be more careful with your notes, don't want to ruin any masterpieces."

"No fear in that," he mumbled. "They're just a bunch of scribbled ideas."

Pulling the zipper shut he slung it over his shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't know this was your time slot."

"It's fine." you tried to smile at him but he kept his eyes down.

"Don't you have the schools app? I can check to see when you're supposed to be here." You tapped the widget, "What's your name?"

"It's fine, I'm actually not on the schedule."

"Oh, why not? You sounded great. If you missed the cutoff you can still be added to a wait list. People drop out all the time."

He looked up and grinned. By God if he wasn't the most beautiful boy you'd ever seen.

"I don't belong here."

"Don't say that. I was listening and you're really talented, you deserve to be here just as much as any of us."

"I don't though." His eyes met yours and you were done for. "I don't go here, I'm not a student."

"Ahh, I guess that's a problem."

"I already said I'm sorry," he got defensive. "I'll just get out of your way."

He started towards the door.

You tugged his backpack. "So is breaking into schools and playing piano a weird hobby of yours?"

You tried to lighten the mood, "you've got a little Phantom of the Opera University edition kink?"

He laughed. "I'm not technically breaking in, I do have a key fob." He held up the school ID. "It's my roommates. And if you want to know about my kinks you're gonna have to get to know me a little better."

You stepped closer and took it from his hand.

"Park Jimin, Performing Arts." Handing it back you eyed him up and down. "So what's your story….."

"My name's Yoongi."

Pulling a chair out from the corner you sat and rummaged through your backpack until you pulled out your breakfast.

"Listen Yoongi, I was just going to sit here. I need logged practice time for course credit."

You peeled your clementine, "So if you want to stay and play, be my guest."

He looked at you unsure, "Why would you do that for me?"

You smiled and shrugged. "I like your face."

Turning red he plopped his knapsack back onto the floor and reclaimed the bench.

You waited until his fingers were just about to land on the keys. "I do have one condition though."

He froze, "Yeah, what's that?"

"You have to take me for coffee later and tell me your story. Agree?"

"I Agree. But you didn't have to give up your time for that, I was going to ask you out anyway."

You probably wouldn't have given up your time but you were intrigued. Park Jimin was an amazing dancer. The curious boy who was here on scholarship was often the subject of conversation in the dining hall. Not only was he good looking but he was a mystery. He hung out with the strangest group of friends, seven misfit boys who were proud to not fit in. In this small University town they stood out as odd, everyone referred to them as The Lost Boys. Yoongi, now being revealed to you as one of them, seemed harmless enough and the opportunity to get to know a piece of them was too good to pass.

Walking and talking up the worn concrete path you made your way through the bustle of pajama clad students trying to get to class.

"Don't you have to be somewhere?"

"Yeah, but I don't care. I'd rather get to know you."

"You should go, I'm not so important that you should lose a day of school over me."

"It's all bullshit anyway Yoongi, it's not going to get me anywhere."

He stopped abruptly, now just outside the small coffee shop. "You sound like a spoiled brat."

You were shocked, who the hell was he to speak to you like that?

"I'd kill to be in your position and you don't even give a shit about just squandering it away."

He pulled the door open and looked at you crossly. "Still want that coffee?"

You stepped in front of him and shot him a dirty look. "I do. You owe me AND because I'm a brat I'm going to order the fanciest thing on the menu. TO GO!"

He silently walked behind you, following to the counter while you placed your ostentatious order. You stood studying him while he asked for an iced Americano. His blond shaggy hair skimmed his chocolate eyes and his sexy lips seemed to always sit in permanent pout. They looked like they'd be nice to kiss.

"You want to stop staring at me and take your expensive drink. You're holding up the line."

You blushed, knocked from your daydream admiration by his deep voice.

You huffed while pulling the chair out, making a show of your annoyance, situating yourself at the corner table.

"I thought you were getting it to go?" he barbed.

"Why would I do that when I can be a pain in your ass a little bit longer? You promised to tell me your story, let's hear it?"

His inhale was deep. Anxiety? Apprehension? A mix of both? His eyes stared at his coffee while his fingers fiddled with the straw. "I want to be a musician."

"Well I figured that much."

"Listen, if you really want to know can you just shut up? This isn't an easy thing for me to talk about, I don't just tell everyone."

"If you don't want to tell me don't"

He cut you off. "But I do want to, for some stupid reason."

"What reason?"

He exhaled with a smirk. "I like your face."

You smiled, "Then please continue."

"I want to be a musician. I write music and lyrics and it's all I've ever wanted my entire life."

He took a sip of coffee. "My parents didn't approve of my choices so I decided to move out on my own and live my life how I wanted."

You nodded in understanding.

"I didn't take into consideration how hard exactly that would be, but I'm a proud man, and there's no going back."

"So what do you do? You're not a student, do you work?"

"Yeah, I deliver food and groceries part time. It doesn't pay much but the basics are covered."

You looked down at your shitty expensive coffee in guilt, maybe you were just a spoiled brat.

"So whenever I'm not working I try to get as much practice and writing in as I can. I use Jimin's fob to get into the music room and that's where I am most nights...all night." he shrugged in omission.

"So no time for a girlfriend?" you felt silly the moment it left your lips.

"I didn't think so." He looked up for the first time since the conversation started. "But," he smiled, "I think given the right person priorities could definitely be changed."

Talking into the afternoon time flew away. Several less expensive coffees later he looked at his phone and frowned. "I've got to go to work."

He stood up and gathered his things. "But I'd love it if we could see each other again."

You stood to go too. "Next Friday 8am? I can let you in with my fob?"

"That sounds really nice." His hand reached out and his fingers brushed across yours as he took the tray from you. "But I was hoping I wouldn't have to wait that long. We're having a party tonight at our place...will you come?"

You sat on the edge of the sofa watching the group around you getting drunk and philosophical. Definitely nothing like a frat party, these guys were a different breed.

His roommates were all handsome in their own way and something about them just set you at ease. No pretensions, no apologies, they were just who they were having fun.

Finally seeing him walk through the door your heart raced when his eye caught yours.

"I'm sorry I'm late, they kept getting orders."

"It's okay. Your roommate..." you pointed to Seokjin. "The one with the really broad shoulders, he kept me entertained with some pretty good jokes."

He scrunched his nose, "really, really sorry."

You pulled a bottle vodka out of your purse and raised your brows. "Are you ready for some fun."

He grabbed your hand and pulled you up from the couch until you were close enough to hear without having to shout.

"I'd like to grab a shower. Do you want to wait in my room for me? I mean...if you're uncomfortable down here by yourself."

It was a no brainer, the sexual tension and chemistry you'd had all day was like a current of electricity running between you.

"Lead the way."

You looked around his room while he was showering. Sure the mattress was on the floor but the bed was made and his clothes were hung neatly in the closet. His dresser was stacked with notebooks that were overflowing with lyrics. Pieces of paper with doodles and random words loosely spilling from between the pages.

Pictures, they must be family, small resemblances in their smiles and it looked like he had a brother.

He had a shelf full of colognes. Picking up the Paco Rabanne he walked in as you were pulling the cap off to sniff it.

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to be nosey, I just wanted to know what you smelled like." Idiot, of all the creepy things to say.

He smiled, "It's alright, I'm not hiding anything."

"No," your cheeks flushed when it finally registered that he was half naked in front of you. "I guess you really aren't."

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just forgot to grab my clean clothes before I went in." He opened a drawer to pull out a shirt.

"It doesn't," you blurted embarrassed.

He pulled his hand away from the clothing and raised his brows quizzically, "So you don't want me to get dressed?"

You walked towards him, he was gorgeous. Water droplets still clung to his muscular chest like he couldn't afford the time away from you to fully dry himself.

"I think," you stammered, "That I'd actually prefer if you didn't."

You placed your hand on his bicep and waited for his response.

It didn't come from words, it came from two soft warm lips attaching themselves to yours.

"You're a good good kisser Min Yoongi. Is your mouth that good at everything?"

"You mean like singing?" He teased your lips with his while he popped the button on your jeans.

"No," you giggled.

"Then you must mean biting?" His teeth lightly bit the flesh of your thigh as he kneeled to lower your pants and underwear.

"Nope, that's not what I meant either."

"Oh, I know, you must mean eating?" His warm tongue found your clit and gave it a little flick. "I think I'm pretty good at it."

You ran your fingers through his hair while he looked up at you hungry.

"Prove it," you moaned."

Stepping out of your pants you leaned back against his dresser. Ass resting on the edge he opened your thighs, a low mumble of, "fuck" drifting out of his mouth before he dove in.

His large hands held you open while his silky tongue explored every crevice of your sex sending your senses into a frenzy. Coming up for air every so often he'd moan at the loss of your taste before inhaling and going back in for more. He wasn't methodical, his mouth was unpredictable. One minute his tongue would be deep inside you and the next he'd have his lips around your clit sucking softly.

"Come over here with me."

He led you to the bed, taking off your shirt before guiding you down. Your eyes ran over his body stopping at the bulge under the tightly wrapped terry cloth towel. The wetness in between your legs grew just thinking about getting to see it.

He laid down beside you, holding your face and kissing you while you reached to undo his shroud.

Smiling, he pulled your hand away, "I'm not done with you yet. Tell me what you want me to do to you."

You had to rub your legs together for friction, he was driving you wild. "This morning, when I watched you playing?"

He smiled like he knew.

"All I could think of was how sexy your..." He stopped your words by hooking two fingers into your mouth and rubbing them against your tongue.

"You were thinking about how good these would feel inside you?" He kissed your neck, "You really know what you want huh?"

"Some people even say I'm spoiled."

"Do you always get your way?"

He plunged them inside of you changing your words of, "I hope so," into a long drawn out moan.

Kissing his way down your neck and over your collar bones his mouth lingered on your breasts. Skimming his lips across your nipples he watched as they hardened into excited little buds. A small smile graced his face, he was clearly proud of how he was making your body react.

His long piano fingers played skillfully inside of you while he latched onto your nipple and suckled. Your heart beat loudly like it was part of the parties soundtrack, the music reverberating through the floor as he fingered you. The whole unfolding scene felt like a dream. Dizzy and intoxicated from lust and heavy breathing you didn't want to wake up to a reality other than this one.

A thud outside the door snapped you back, your thighs clamping shut on his hand as you pulled the covers up to hide yourself.

"It's locked, nobody can get in, don't worry." He pulled the sheet back off of you to continue his work.

"Are you sure they can't get in?"

A loud moan rang through the hall and the thuds against the wall gave away the truth.

"I'm sure they have their own agenda."

You flopped back trying to regain the moment while his fingers stroked your walls.

It was distracting at first, people fucking right outside his door. But a few minutes of listening to their pleasure, of hearing their moans and the pleas of harder, you were more turned on than ever.

He watched you unravelling at the pornographic sounds. "You wanna cum when they do?"

"Please..please," you begged in time with the drag of his fingers.

The sounds escalating on both sides of the wall seemed to add fuel to the fires of both immanent orgasms. Just as the stranger in the hall screamed her end, Yoongi pumped and sucked harder until you finished longer and louder than your unknown counterpart. He laughed as he pulled his fingers out of you, the strings of excitement cleaned off with a lurid suck of his own digits.

Your head was still reeling when he pulled his towel off. His thick beautiful cock looked so hard and ripe as he reached in his drawer for a condom.

"Can I put it on you?" You took it from his hand and ripped the package open. Holding it between your fingertips you got closer and ran your tongue around the head of his cock. The taste of pre cum on his freshly washed dick made you ready for more.

Giving him a few deep sucks and pumps you needed him now. He watched while you rolled the thin latex tightly over his twitching thickness and straddled him, wasting no time to begin bouncing on his cock.

Your kisses were messy, hands entwined in his hair, your breasts grazing against his skin with every thrust while you rode him. "Fuck, you feel so good."

His hands gripped your ass squeezing as he moaned underneath you. Orgasm building like a hurricane, the eye of the perfect storm became more imminent with every slide of your pleasure point against his soaked pubic trail.

"Make me cum Yoongi."

He flipped you swiftly onto your back and his hips picked up the pace to the finish line. Thrusting in between your open thighs his cock drove you to convulsively cum, your cunt squeezing his own warm liquid into the condom between you.

He lay with his arms around you in silence. Your head on his chest listening to his heart slowly make it's way back to a normal pace.

"I can't promise you anything more than who I am. I don't have anything to offer you but dreams that may or may not come true."

He stroked your hair as he spoke his truth. "I'm working hard, but I can't guarantee that I'll ever amount to anything more than a delivery boy."

You sat up on your elbow and stared at the man you'd just fallen in love with. "I want to share all of my time with you Yoongi. In fact, I insist you take it. I've heard you play and I believe in you."

You waited until your lips were just about to land on his. "I do have one condition though."

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Yeah, what's that?"

"You've got to promise you'll write me a song. Agree?"

His fingers splayed caressing your back, he couldn't help the huge smile that took over his face when he kissed you.

"I agree. But you didn't have to give up your time for that, I was going to do it anyway."

#Yoongi #Yoongi smut #bts smut #bts #min yoongi #lost boys series #Happy Birthday Yoongi #suga day

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 9

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,720ish

Summary: You start to question Steve.

I do not own Marvel or Grey’s Anatomy.

Something at been bother you about Steve, as of late. When you two would spend the night together, it was always at your place. And you were starting to realize that he knew more about you than you did him. (Though he still didn’t know about your parents.) You sat on your bed and watched as Steve got ready for the day. He was brushing his teeth when you finally spoke up.

“Let’s sleep at your place tonight,” you said.

“What?” Steve questioned. His brow furrowed as he faced you, tooth brush still in his mouth.

“I mean, why are we always sleeping at my house? Do you even have one?”

He spit into the sink. “One what?”

“A house. Or an apartment. With a closet and your stuff in it. Your personal stuff. Do you even have on of those.”

“Mmm,” he hummed with a nod, wiping his face. “You hungry?” He gathered his things as he headed towards the door.

“Steve, do you even—“

But he was gone, leaving you on the bed, sighing. After freshening up for the day, you went down to the kitchen. Steve was sitting at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him, with your roommates scattered around the kitchen.

“You know, I like it here,” Steve told you when he noticed you. “You sad so yourself, you like having your things around, sleeping in your own bed.”

“You’re like a health nut, aren’t you?” Clint questioned Steve as he examined his cereal. “You eat muesli every morning.”

“No,” Steve argued, mouth full, “I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” Val said. “Well, at least for the last seven days.”

“Oh, come on. I haven’t been here for a whole week… have I?”

“Sadly, you have,” Scott said.

“See?” You pointed to your roommates. “Even they think it’s weird.”

~~~

Eventually, your work day started and you were going through the motions of everything. Steve met up with you as you walked through the halls. And you couldn’t help but continue what you were talking about this morning.

“It’s just that I hardly know anything about you,” you said.

“You know that I just moved here. You know that I like ferry boats.”

“Yes, but where exactly did you move here from? And what about your friends? Or family? Do you have any?”

“I’m a surgeon. I don’t have friends. And I don’t have family anymore either.”

“See, I didn’t know that. And everybody has friends. What do you do on your days off? These are all important questions.”

“Ah, important for who?”

“Me. We’re having sex every night. I think I deserve details.”

“You have more details than most,” he smirked.

“See, this is going somewhere weird. I want facts, and until I get them, my pants are staying on.”

“Or you could just roll with it. Be flexible. See what happens.”

“I’m not flexible.”

Steve laughed. “There is where I disagree.” He winked, before getting paged. He looked down at it. “I've got to go. We'll find these things out.” He slowly started walking away. “That's the fun part. You know? That's the gravy.”

“That is what I'm talking about. I don't want to be your gravy.”

“Gravy?” Tony questioned, walking up from behind. “What about gravy? And why are you two flirting in public?”

“We weren’t flirting. We were—“

“Flirting. Stop lying to me and yourself.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Mhmm. I know lying, and flirting, when I see it. And you, my dear, are doing both.”

“Shut up.”

~~~

An equally fortunate and unfortunate thing, you were assigned to Steve’s service today. You were currently looking at a patient’s scans. The patient was slowly becoming paralyzed, and you were trying to figure out why.

“See, this,” you pointed to the scans. “The guy's films are clear. There's no reason I can see for his creeping paralysis.”

“It's just so surprising,” Steve responded, still studying the scans. “I expected an intrusion into the spinal space or bony spur in the nucleus pulposus.”

“Well, you were wrong. You don't always get what you expect, do you?”

With furrowed brows, he turned to face you. “What is your problem?”

“Give me something to go on. Anything. What are your grandparents' names?”

“I don't have grandparents.”

“Where'd you grow up? What's your favorite flavor of ice cream? Where'd you spend your summer vacations?”

“Lighten up. It'll be good for your blood pressure.”

Steve walked out of the room. You followed him, but stopped at the doorway.

“Oh, don’t you tell me to lighten up!” You called after him. “I’ll lighten up when I… feel light.” You huffed and shook your head. “That man.”

~~~

Steve was speaking to your patient, Mr. Wells, and his wife when you went to check on Mr. Wells.

“Any changes, Mr. Wells?” Steve wondered.

“I can’t move my legs at all now,” Mr. Wells replied.

“He said he was moving his legs when he came in,” Mrs. Wells said. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Have you been under any stress lately, Mr. Wells?” You questioned.

“You know what’s making me stressed? Is being in here and not being able to move,” he responded.

“Dr. L/N,” Steve called, waiting you to clarify.

“Emotional trauma can be converted into something physical, right?” You asked.

“Yes, it’s possible.”

“Like hysterical numbness or paralysis. Maybe there is no physiological reason, and he's just having a conversion reaction.”

“You think it's psychosomatic?”

The curtain behind you and Steve flew open, revealing another patient and Val.

“It’s not in your head, man,” the patient said. “I believe you.”

“Mr. Duff, please,” Val said, closing the curtain.

“Who was that?” Steve asked.

“Psych sent him down,” you explained, having heard Val complain earlier. “He has visions.”

“Is that it?” Mr. Wells wondered. “Am I cray?”

“No. No,” Steve quickly said. “I'm gonna order a higher-level MRI. We're gonna figure this out.”

~~~

At lunch time, Peter, Natasha, Scott, Clint, Val, and yourself found a small room to eat in, away from everyone else. Natasha was sitting down at a desk. She lifted up her sandwich, smelling it, before quickly dropping it.

“If that’s turkey, can I have some?” Clint asked.

“It’s soggy,” Natasha responded.

“If it’ll kill you,” Peter commented. “Solve everything.”

“I coulda gotten that intubation,” Clint murmured. “I am good at intubations.”

You took a bite of your food, cringing at the smell. “Why does everything in a hospital smell like a hospital?” You questioned.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Clint,” Scott said. “Everybody makes mistakes.”

“You know, I’m good at a lot of things,” Clint continued.

“You know what, I'm gonna tell you something,” Natasha began, “Hey, Clint. You need to get laid. See that nurse over there.” Natasha pointed to the nurse at the station out the window. “She’s single. She's got brown hair. Go ask her out.”

“In case you forgot, I intubated an esophagus.”

“Dude, you're tweaking,” Peter said. “Maybe you should go see that psychic.”

“Mr. Duff is not a psychic!” Val exclaimed as Peter left the room.

“I am trying to help you,” Natasha told Clint, standing up. “Go buy her a latte and freshen up your gonads, please.” Then she left.

“What’s with her?” Val asked, looking at you for an answer.

You shrugged. “Don’t ask me.”

~~~

After lunch, you headed back to check on Mr. Wells. Steve was already in there again, looking extremely concerned.

“First my legs, then my stomach,” Mr. Wells complained before looking scared. “Doc! Doc, my hands can’t move.”

“Squeeze my fingers,” Steve ordered, placing his fingers in Mr. Wells’ hand.

“I can’t.”

“Right here.” Steve tried the other hand. “No? Let me know if you feel this.” He poked the patient with a needle. “How about that?”

“No,” Mr. Wells responded.

Steve tried several different places before giving up. “Alright. I’ll be right back.” He headed to the nurses station, motioning for you to follow him. “Nurse, cancel the second MRI. Call down and prep an OR stat.”

“You’re operating?” You questioned. “On what? If there was something to fix, wouldn't we have seen it?”

“I think the MRI missed a clot somewhere in his upper spine. I'm gonna cut him open. I'm going in.”

“What if you're wrong? Couldn't unnecessary spinal surgery do more damage?”

“If we wait any longer and this expands into his brain stem, we have a paralyzed man who can't breathe. I'm trusting my instincts. Sometimes you've got to take a chance to save a life.”

~~~

The OR was stressful, even before Steve cut Mr. Wells open.

“We've got to save this cord,” Steve stated, grabbing a scalpel. “This guy's built like the Rock of Gibraltar.”

“You want me to start?” You wondered.

“No, I'm gonna to cut here from the base of the neck to the rib cage.” Steve pointed, showing you exactly what he meant. “I want you to hit the bleeders.”

“I still don't think we should be doing this,” you expressed your concerns as Steve cut open. You immediately started going for the bleeders.

“This guy has a spinal hematoma.”

“We don't know that.”

“Which left untreated are almost always fatal.”

“You're cutting blind. Whatever happened to being practical?”

“I need to see more here. Retractor.” A nurse handed Steve a retractor.

“Wow,” you gasped, staring at Mr. Wells’ spine.

“There’s no ‘wow’ in practical’.” You could practically hear Steve’s smirk.

After everything was clear, you and Steve began looking at the spine closely.

“Third thoracic laminae. Nothing,” you said. “I think I see the dura pulsating here.”

“No, it's not,” Steve responded. “Keep looking.”

“We have been at this for four hours. Maybe he just injured his spinal cord and there's nothing to fix.”

“L/N, when you read your books, make sure you reference them correctly. Progressive paralysis implies a pressure lesion.”

“My books got me here—“ You were interrupted by the monitors beeping.

“Pressure’s up to 180/111,” a nurse informed. “The pulse is in the 40s.”

“What is it?”

“I’m pushing 70 milligrams diazoxide.”

“Okay. Autonomic dysreflexia,” Steve said.

“Damage to the sympathetic nervous system?” You asked.

“BP and the heart rate are unstable.”

“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

“We’ve got to find the clot.”

“I can see the cord below the dura. Is he gonna stroke out?”

“Focus, L/N. We're gonna find the clot. It's there. Clean up, please.”

“BP's still up,” the nurse reminded. “Heart rate's at 44.”

“Get on those bleeders,” Steve ordered. “Keep looking, Dr. L/N.”

After a few long minutes later, Steve let out a happy sigh.

“What is it?” You asked.

“See for yourself,” he replied, moving his hand. “The second thoracic vertebrae.”

You leaned in, seeing the clot clearly. “Oh, my gosh. I see it. It’s really there.”

“Of course it is. Let's suction and pack this baby, shall we?”

The rest of the surgery was finished quickly and without any more problems. Soon, you and Steve were in the scrub room outside the OR.

“You were right,” you admitted. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“I think so,” Steve responded.

“But you don’t know that.”

“I know we stopped the paralysis from advancing.”

“But, you don't know if the paralysis he already has will be permanent.”

“No.”

“You know, you keep taking everything on faith. How do you know what's real and what's not?”

“You just do. You know some people would call this a relationship. The kind where you exchange keys, leave your toothbrush over.”

“Who? Who would call it that?”

“Me. I would.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then show me something. Give me a reason to believe.”

With a small, teasing smile, Steve left the room.

~~~

Your group of interns had once again found yourselves in the deserted hallway.

“I tried to talk Rogers out of that clot surgery,” you said quietly. “What is wrong with me?”

“So, basically, you tried to kill the guy,” Peter stated.

“Basically, you’re an ass,” Natasha retorted.

“Come on. You know you want it.”

Clint came walking in. “This, uh, is Clint,” he said, pointing to his name tag. “And Clint has a hot date.”

“Oh, that’s great, Clint,” you responded with a smile.

“Yeah.”

“Left pocket of my lab coat, Clint,” Peter said, going to leave. “No glove, no love.”

Clint grabbed Peter’s arm before he could fully leave. He took a condom from his pocket.

“My psychic had his surgery,” Val stated.

“Yeah?” Clint wondered.

“I wonder what happened with his… gift.”

“Come on,” Natasha scoffed. “We all know he’s crazy.”

“Thought you said you didn’t believe in that stuff,” you added.

"I grew up in a trailer park,” Val explained. “I waited tables, which was supposed to put me through college, but my mother was always calling these psychics all the time. And the bills started piling up, so I had to use my money to pay them. When I turned 18, I left and never went back. But this guy has been saying things to me, things he couldn't possibly know anything about. So I just wonder.”

~~~

“Do you have sensation anywhere else?” You asked Mr. Wells as you examined him.

“Some feeling in my stomach and feet, I guess,” he responded.

“Bladder and bowels?”

“Not so good still.”

“He said the pressure stockings help relieve clots and bed sores?” Mrs. Wells wondered.

“They do,” you agreed.

“I wanted to thank you for everything,” Mr. Wells said. “Believing in me, that I wasn't making it up.”

“Well, I'll come back tomorrow, then.”

“Hey, I wanted to show you something. I wasn't sure it would last but now look.” He barely moved one of his fingers. “I know it's hardly anything, but…”

“No, it’s something,” you smiled. “It's something really big. I’ll make sure Dr. Rogers knows and I’ll see you both in the morning.”

~~~

Steve met you in the lobby and led you to his car. He opened the door for you before hurrying over to the other side, getting in, and starting the car. Driving, you quickly noticed that Steve wasn’t taking you to your house.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“Trust me,” he replied, glancing at you.

You bit your lip and nodded, turning to look out the window as the city flew by. Before you knew it, you guys had crossed into New Jersey and heading into the more suburban area of it. Steve stopped in front of a piece of land with no house on it. The whole piece of empty land had to be at least 20 acres, with groups of trees scattered around it. Helping you out of the car, Steve began leading you towards the trees.

“Are you going to murder me and bury my body here?” You asked.

“No,” Steve chuckled. “Of course not.”

“Where are we?”

“Shh, shh. I’m going to tell you.”

Steve led you around the corner, revealing an airstream trailer with a small porch. It was almost magical, sitting in the midst of all those trees.

“Alright,” Steve breathed out, nervously.

He let go of your hand and moved to sit on the edge of the porch. You stayed where you were at, taking everything in.

“My mother’s name was Sarah, my dad’s was Joseph,” Steve stated. “They both died before I graduated high school. I don’t have any siblings. I like Neapolitan ice cream and just a plain beer. I like to work out and I’ve recently started fly fishing. I also cheat when I do the crossword puzzle on Sundays. I never dance in public, even at dances. But only cause I don’t know how. My favorite type of music from the early decades of the 1900’s. My favorite color is blue, like from the American flag. And I live in this trailer. All this land is mine. I have no idea what I’m gonna do with it. So… well, that’s it. That’s all you’ve earned for now. The rest you’re just… just gonna have to take on faith.”

Not revealing an emotions, you walked to the trailer, studying it. Steve stood up, carefully watching you. Walking towards the door, you turned back around with a small smile and reached your hand out to him.

“Show me how this faith thing works,” you whispered. “Please.”

next chapter >

Sorry if it’s all over the place. I owed it to you guys to get this out there.

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #steve rodgers imagine #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #Steve Rogers #greys anatomy au

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

Day 27: Intrulogical (TW)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 27 - Your eyes match your soulmate’s hair color. If they dye their hair, your eyes change colors.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!! Attempted rape (by unnamed OC), drugging, implied underage drinking (though none is actually seen), emetophobia/vomiting, Halloween, alcohol, characters being tipsy/drunk, parties. Happy/satisfying ending.

Word count: 4.7k

Logan lived his life based on routine. In a world of constant change, it felt comforting to always know what his next step was. His mornings always started the same; wake up at seven o’clock sharp, sneak to the dorm bathroom in an attempt to not wake his essentially nocturnal roommate, and brush his teeth. Wet the toothbrush, pea sized amount of toothpaste, wet the brush again, and start on the left side of his mouth. Brush for exactly two minutes, wash face, and then attempt to calm down the bedhead. He’d sneak back into the room, change silently, and then make his way to the shared kitchen to make cereal for breakfast. The only variable in his routine was which fruit he’d eat along with his Cheerios. Then he’d triple check that all of his homework was packed properly, and head off to his morning class.

Except today.

For someone who rarely got distracted from his normal routine, he was surprisingly still as he glared, shocked, into his reflection. Water still dripped off his face and all over the counter, but he couldn’t tear his attention from it. Because his normally dark brown eyes were now neon green.

“Are you kidding me?!” He yelled before he could stop himself, storming back into their room and dropping back onto his bed.

“What’s’it?” Virgil mumbled, lifting his exhausted face from where they’d been smooshed into the pillows. Logan spun his face up towards the top bunk, jaw clenched, and gestured towards his eyes.

“I have a presentation today!” Logan continued, looking away from Virgil’s failed attempt to cover a smile, “And I look ridiculous! No one will take me seriously!”

“Just in time for Halloween, I guess. They just look like contacts.”

“Hallow-” Logan sprung to his desk to look at his calendar accusingly, groaning when he realized it was in fact the thirty first. “Ugh, I have a paper due tomorrow!”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out of the party now, Lo. I already promised people I’d go, and I’m not going alone.”

“I won’t back out of the party,” Logan grumbled, crossing his arms. Virgil gave a satisfied hum, flopping back into his comforter. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled.

“Out of all people, I’m surprised you forgot.”

“So sue me, if a frivolous game of promiscuous dress up comes after passing my classes in the list of importance.”

The emo snorted. “What’s your costume gonna be?”

“I am not wearing a costume!” Logan’s voice was almost offended.

“You already look like a traffic light. Might as well complete the look.”

Logan grumbled angrily, marching back toward the bathroom to finish getting ready. “I’m not wearing a costume. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Aw, c’mon, Lo. For me?”

That stopped Logan in his tracks. He spun around and took a careful breath, glaring down his overly pleased roommate. “Fine. Just for you.”

Virgil gave another satisfied hum, before squinting his eyes at Logan scrutinizingly. “I wonder if your eyes glow in the dark. Can you imagine if the prof turns the lights off for a presentation and-”

“UUUGGHHH!” Logan yowled as he slammed the bathroom door shut, shaking his head at Virgil’s snickers.

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

They were meeting up at the party at the end of classes (right about when Virgil tended to wake up), so Logan headed there directly after his final class, just as the evening sun was fading behind the horizon. It was already packed with people already picking the snack and drinks table bare, a lopsided sign that said ‘21+ only’ forgotten near an empty beer box. If Logan were to assume correctly, the sign was only there to assuage the conscience of whoever was hosting tonight, and not actually to stop the underage drinking. Even if he was above legal drinking age, he still didn’t experience many of the positives of drinking, so he grabbed a can of iced tea and stood next to a wall to wait for Virgil.

It hadn’t been a full five minutes before a man sidled up to him, sipping from a half empty beer bottle and watching Logan with a careful eye. He didn’t spare so much as a glance in return, barely acknowledging the newcomer’s presence.

“What’s a wallflower like you doing at a rager like this?” He drawled with an almost audible impish smile.

“If this is considered a rager, I’d hate to see what a calm party looks like.”

“Aw, we just haven’t gotten started yet! We’re fueling up for when the moon comes out. And you haven’t answered my question, flower.”

“I’m simply waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, and does this friend have a name?” He purred.

Frustrated, Logan turned to the man, and promptly froze. Looking down at him with pitch black eyes was a person in a costume he couldn’t recognize; a black and white striped suit that looked like he’d raked it through dust, and a mold green tie. The stubble on his face could have been his own five o’clock shadow or makeup, but it only functioned to make him look far hotter than what was fair. What was most shocking though, and Logan was baffled that he’d missed it in the initial approach, was the mop of electric-shock-straight neon green hair on his head.

“He- I don’t-”

“Didn’t take you for the type to get flustered,” The man snorted, taking another sip. “What do you have? Aw, iced tea? And not even spiked? A crime.”

How did he not see Logan’s eyes? The hair was the exact same color; Logan would know. He’d spend the whole day watching his reflection, hoping that his soulmate would have some mercy and dye their hair back to its original color. Neon green was not exactly the most subtle color, and he had not missed the snickers or silent glances from his classmates and professors all day. So the question remained, why wasn’t this guy saying anything?

“I don’t drink. I tend to just become lethargic when I do.” He answered instead, gripping his can a little tighter. It took far too much effort to keep his voice from straining.

“Fair enough. I’m not pressuring you to drink, no worries. At least we’ll have one sober mind at this party tonight.” The taller man winked at him, flashing him that stupidly stunning smile again.

But then it occurred to Logan as he kept searching the man’s dark eyes desperately. His eyes were too dark, almost pitch black, while Logan’s hair was several shades lighter. So... there was no way they were soulmates. Just as quickly as the hope had exploded in his stomach, it dissipated, leaving him feeling more exhausted than usual. Stupid feelings.

“Logan, there you are!” An unusually loud voice called through his stupor and he spun around to see Virgil’s fanged smile. In the back of his mind, he remembered watching Virgil putting together his elaborate vampire costume over the last few weeks, but he’d never seen the full thing put together until now. “Ah, and Remus found you. Scram, Beetlejuice.”

Remus, apparently, didn’t seem at all offended by the jab. Instead, he seemed to smile wider. “Nice to see you too, emo. Is that any way to treat the host of the party?”

To Logan’s surprise, Virgil smiled too. “Oh, shut up. You’re going to give Logan a heart attack.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Dracula. Why don’t you go get a drink, and I’ll keep him company?”

“Nuh uh. No way. Not leaving him with you any longer than I have already.” With that, Virgil hooked his arm through Logan’s and led him back to the drink table.

“Remember, Virgil, drinks are only for the big kids!”

“I’m older than you are!” He flipped the bird over Logan’s shoulder to the host, earning a barked laugh in response. “He never lets me forget I’m a whole three inches shorter than him.”

“You know the host of the party?”

Virgil hummed in response, pouring himself a cup of punch that reeked of alcohol. “How else would I get invited? We were in English together in third year, and I haven’t been able to shake him since. He’s like a leech.”

“You seem friendly with him.”

The elder froze, solo cup barely touching his lips as he looked over Logan slowly. “Everything okay? You’re not usually this… quiet.” They could both tell it wasn’t the word he’d wanted to use.

For a brief moment, Logan considered telling Virgil about his brief flair of hope, about how for a single second he’d felt nothing but relief and desire and elation, and how it had been ripped away from him just as quickly. But then he realized that, no, Virgil didn’t need that to bring down the mood of the first party he’d attended in a year, since his anxiety had flared. If it still bothered him after the party, he’d bring it up. That was unlikely, though. Logan was especially gifted in the art of repression.

“I’m just a tad out of my element. Nothing to worry about,” he responded with a smile. Virgil didn’t fall for it, if the way he watched Logan as he sipped his drink was anything to go off of, but he did them both the favor of not pushing it. For now.

“I thought I told you to wear a costume,” Virgil gasped as he drained the cup, immediately refilling it from the same bowl.

“I did.” Logan gestured towards the single piece of paper taped to his white shirt. It took Virgil a moment to squint through the darkening light to make-out the black sharpie, reading allowed.

“‘Error 404, Costume Not Found.’ That does not count, Logan!” He laughed nonetheless, just as a deep bass filled the house. Apparently, the party had begun. He didn’t have a good argument for Virgil’s accusation, since he technically thought it very much did count, but arguing with the other was a waste of time. The two men were equally matched in the stubbornness department.

The lights disappeared for a good few seconds before the house was illuminated in strobe lights, and the music’s volume exploded. Virgil laughed giddily; apparently his plan to get buzzed before the party could give him anxiety was intentional.

“They do, ya know.”

Logan looked at him in confusion, and shouted over the roaring music. “What?”

“Your eyes! They do glow in the dark!”

“Shut up!”

“You look like a glowstick!” He began to giggle wildly, leaning on Logan for support.

“No more drinks for a good half hour, Virge,” Logan chided gently, replacing his solo cup with a water bottle from the table. Virgil whined but plucked out his vampire fangs so he could drink from the small spout easier.

“Let’s dance,” Virgil said, grabbing Logan’s arm and leading him into the crowd.

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

Logan guessed it was well past midnight when Virgil tugged on his arm for the third time, leaning close to his ear and shouting that he had to go to the bathroom.

“Again?!” Logan called back at the vampire’s back. There was no malice in his words, not when he knew Virgil had been anxious to go to this party and he tended to drink more water when he was anxious. It was just all coming back for revenge now.

To Logan’s delight, the excitement of the party had started to push out the event from earlier. His mood was no longer dampened by the let down of what he thought was meeting his soulmate, and he could finally enjoy the one event he allowed himself to go to this semester. School was important, but he allowed this for Virgil. He hadn’t expected himself to have a good time as well.

It wasn’t even a minute after Virgil had left that there was a loud shout and Logan was jostled harshly to the side, the front of his shirt immediately soaking red from the cup of punch spilled on him. His own drink clattered to the floor.

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry!” A man Logan didn’t recognize started to pat at his chest with a handful of tissues, an action that for some reason caused the smaller man to cringe.

“No worries. It was bound to happen eventually. Perhaps a white shirt wasn’t my smartest idea,” He responded sharply, taking the tissues from the other and dabbing himself off to the best of his abilities. Slightly relieved that he now had a valid reason, he ripped off his poor attempt at a costume and crumpled up the soaking wet paper in the hand not trying in vain to dry himself. Despite Logan obviously being uninterested, the taller man stayed where he was, watching Logan’s actions with fierce intensity. His lip curled as his eyes trailed down the now nearly see-through shirt.

“If you wanted, I could get that shirt off of you. Fool around, give it some time to dry?”

“I’m so flattered,” Logan deadpanned, “But no thanks.”

“Aw, too bad,” The man cooed, shrugging. His demeanor did a full one-eighty, his predatory gaze replaced with innocence, “Was worth a try. Let me at least get you a new drink, since I ruined your other one.”

“That’s not necessary-”

“I insist.” He laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder, causing a tingling cold to spread through his whole body. The smaller man barely contained a shudder as the man gave him another wolf like grin before disappearing into the crowd towards the drinks table.

Logan was hoping he’d forgotten, and just wouldn’t come back, but the man reappeared in moments, popping open a pink lemonade and handing it to him.

“Saw your other drink was non-alcoholic, so I got the only other one left.”

“Uhm…” Logan looked critically at the can, his alarm bells flaring. But… he’d seen the man open it, right? So it’s not as if he could have done something to it. Perhaps this guy really did have the right intentions, just an iffy way of showing them. “Thank you.”

He took a sip as the man smiled with too much teeth. “So, are you here alone?”

“No,” Logan responded a little less coolly, “I’m here with a friend. He just went to the bathroom.” Another sip.

“Oh, that’s fun! Are you guys in the same year?”

“Yes. We are both fourth years.” The man was acting kinder, and Logan was starting to consider that perhaps their initial meeting had been a misunderstanding on his part. Maybe he had just wanted to help out, but Logan, being cynical as always, had assumed the worst. Wasn’t that just like him, though? Always so quick to conclusions, ruining good things before they have a chance to happen. Trying to chase away his annoyance with himself and the bitter taste it had left on his tongue, he took a longer swig of the can.

“Hey, me too! I’m an English major, what about you?”

“Business with an astronomy minor.”

“That sounds difficult. How many semester hours are you clocking at right now?”

“I… uhm…” And for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. It was a high number, he knew for sure. He shook his head. “Fifteen, sixteen? Maybe seventeen?”

The man whistled. “Damn, impressive. Remind me of your name, again?”

Had he told him in the first place? “Logan.”

“And what brings a studious man such as yourself to a party like this?”

“My- My friend.” Logan couldn’t help shake his head again, hoping the fog in his mind would scatter. That’s what he got, staying out this late when his sleep schedule was usually so precise. “He doesn’t like… parties. So he asked…” He blinked hard a couple times, finding himself swaying on his feet. “He asked me…”

“Hey, are you okay?” The man placed his hand on his arm in an ironclad grip, holding him steady, “Logan, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I… Dizzy,” He murmured, reaching up blearily and grabbing onto him.

“Are you dehydrated? Maybe you should drink some more.”

What were the symptoms of dehydration again? Dizziness, check. Fatigue, check. Confusion, check. Thirst? Yeah, he could drink something, but he’d been drinking all night, so why…

The can dropped from his hand, the second one tonight, and he tried weakly to pull away. Instead of letting him go, the man pulled him closer, wrapping an arm bruisingly tight around his waist.

“You… you drugged-”

“You don’t look so good, Logan. Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down, yeah?”

“No, I don’t…” He was unable to escape, barely able to keep his feet under him, as the man started dragging him to the stairs. Where the hell is Virgil? Logan could feel tears pricking his eyes as his breathing hitched, and for the first time in years, he felt real panic. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t-

“Let him the fuck go!”

A voice distinctly not Virgil’s shouted over the music, and Logan didn’t even dare hope it’s directed at the man still clutching him. His luck would never be that good. But through his blurry vision, a pin striped blob with a mess of green hair breaks through the crowd, marching distinctly up to them.

“He came here with me.” Logan could just make out the stronger man’s words through his dizzied state. “He just had a bit too much to drink. I’m going to let him lay down.”

“Like hell you are. Give him to me.”

“How dare you-”

“Logan. Doesn’t. Drink. And I know who he came here with.” Remus snarled, edging towards the duo threateningly, “Now let go of him before I break your fucking jaw.”

With almost as much physical relief as emotional, the man finally released his painful hold on Logan and shoved his way through the crowd, the distant shouts of inconvenienced partygoers near the door the only signal that he’d completely left.

For all his effort, Logan couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed. At first the feeling of strong arms picking him up bridal style caused him to panic and he lashed out, feebly hitting the chest of whoever was holding him. Realizing they were now walking up the stairs, the same place the other man had been pulling him, caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Woah there, Lo. You’re okay. It’s just me, it’s Remus, okay? Take a deep breath, just relax. I won’t hurt you.”

For some reason that Logan couldn’t fathom, the words calmed him down. Somewhere, Logan acknowledged that even though Virgil had known Remus for a while, Logan had only talked to him for a total of five minutes, and he probably shouldn’t trust an essential stranger when he’s like this. He’s just too tired to fight though, no matter how his adrenaline is pumping.

“V’rg’l,” Logan whimpered, clutching Remus' shirt with all the strength of a wet leaf, “W’nt h’m.”

“I’ll get Virgil as soon as you’re safe, okay? Don’t worry,” Remus’ soothing voice rumbled through Logan from where he was pressed to the taller’s chest, making his eyelids flutter. His arms felt like over boiled pasta and his stomach was doing flips, but Remus’ voice broke through the fog he was in and settled him in a way he hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the drugs.

“We’re at the top of the stairs now, okay? I’ll take you to my room, since it’s the only one with a lock. So we know there won’t be any horny college kids in there, making a mess of my sheets. Gotta unlock it without dropping you, hold on, and… A HAH! Got it. You want the light on or off?”

Logan couldn’t compute the question, much less make a choice. He made a sound that was slightly reminiscent of a stalled car engine, letting his head loll towards the lump that he assumed was a bed.

“Let’s compromise.” With all the care in the world, Logan was placed onto the sheets and gently rolled onto his side, a heavy comforter pulled up to his shoulders. Remus shifted away and a dim light flashed through his eyelids, enough to notice but definitely not enough to hurt his throbbing head. A table lamp, probably.

“No falling asleep on me, okay? You need to stay awake. I don’t know what that fucker gave you. I’m texting Virgil now, he’ll be here soon. Just keep your eyes open.”

Logan opened his eyes despite his overwhelming urge to sleep, and was immediately assaulted by a swirl of colors as the world tilted. An explosion of nausea tilted him forward and he pushed himself up on his elbows.

“‘m g’nna-” He didn’t have to finish his sentence before there was a plastic garbage can under his cheek and he heaved, throwing up the remnants of dinner and all he drank that evening. He didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed as he flopped back down onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“Oh, Logan,” Remus whispered.

There was a pounding on the door and Logan didn’t even have the energy to flinch from the violent sound. Remus stood quickly and unlocked it, barely opening it before someone barreled into the room, the newcomer gasping for breath.

“What the fuck happened?!” Virgil screamed, dropping on his knees next to the bed, hand reaching up to lay on Logan’s cheek.

“He got roofied by some motherfucker I haven’t seen before. I caught him in the stairwell before anything happened.” Remus was still standing by the open door. The music was flowing in louder now, and Virgil’s raged shouting wasn’t helping his headache at all.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this. I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Virgil, you’re real hot when you’re pissed, but calm the hell down. Yelling won’t help Logan.”

“You’re… shit, you’re right. Okay. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Watch him. Keep him on his side, bin’s to your left if he has to hurl again. I’m cutting this shit show.”

Logan finally cracked his eyes open as the door shut, Virgil leaning backwards to lock it. When he turned back and saw his friend’s eyes open, he almost wept.

“I’m so sorry Lo, I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“‘s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I got distracted talking to someone, but I should have come back sooner. You could’ve… You could’ve been…”

“Not y’r fa’lt,” Logan mumbled, reaching over blindly to try and find Virgil’s hand. The other must have sensed his intentions and gripped onto the flailing limb, interlocking their fingers.

“You better not be blaming yourself.”

Technically, he was. He should have been more careful, shouldn’t have taken a drink from a stranger, should have noticed something was off the moment his mind started to fade. Never in his life would he say that this kind of situation was the victim’s fault but… he couldn’t help it when it came to himself. He’d always been self critical that way. Bringing this up to Virgil would be a death wish, though, and an argument he certainly did not have the energy for right now.

The music cut off downstairs and Logan sighed in relief, nearly smiling at Remus’ shout for everyone to get out of his house. For someone he’d met once, he was protective, that was for sure.

Virgil didn’t force him to talk. They both just enjoyed the silence for a while, the only sound being the occasional shout from downstairs and Virgil’s sniffles. Logan couldn’t exactly blame him; he’d cry too if he had the brainpower. He didn’t though, which was the problem, so he allowed his hand to be held and allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of a thumb brushing over his knuckles.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Virgil reached over to unlock it, allowing Remus to walk back in. “Sorry that took so long. Wanted to double check that anyone using someone else as a crutch was black out drunk, not drugged. Here, sit him up.”

Virgil shifted so he was behind Logan and pulled him up against him, holding him steady as Remus lifted a glass of water to his lips. “You have to be thirsty. Do your best to keep this down, Lo.” Suddenly realizing how thirsty he actually was, Logan downed half the glass before Remus pulled it away. “Not so much, you’ll get sick.” There was a clink as the glass was placed on the bed side table. “We need to take him to the hospital. I don’t know how much whatever the fucker gave him.”

“I’m too drunk to drive,” Virgil said, gently lowering Logan back onto his side.

“I didn’t drink that much, but I’m not safe either. You got a friend who can take us?”

“Yeah,” The shorter mumbled as he shakily typed in his phone password, “I’m going to call Patton, just a second.” He moved to the furthest corner of the small room and the conversation faded into the background. At least Virgil was talking… that meant Patton picked up, right?

“Shitty way to end a pretty spectacular holiday,” Remus stated as he sat back on his spot, letting a hand rest on Logan’s leg.

“‘m s’rry.”

“Ah, shit, that’s not what I meant. I’m mad for you, not at you. Ya know,” As he spoke, he reached up and did something to his eyes, almost picking at them, “Halloween’s the only valid holiday in my book. Christmas is too overrated, Easter is senseless, Thanksgiving? No thanks, I don’t glorify genocide. But Halloween? I get to dress slutty or spooky or fucking ridiculous, and no one can give me two shits about it. I get to throw ragers and stab gourds into faces and buy discount candy until I’m fifty percent chocolate. I mean, I dyed my hair green for it, paid extra for the glow in the dark shit, and all I got were compliments.”

His hands had returned to his lap and he was fiddling with something. Logan tried to make out what it was, but it just looked like black plastic. Tiny, flexible pieces of black plastic. That Remus had pulled from his eyes.

They were colored contacts.

“I guess I do kind of blame Roman for getting me into Beetlejuice, but it is one of his least favorite musicals, so it’s also a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to him-”

“R’mus,” He breathed, and even that faint call was enough to snap Remus back to him. The taller man turned to him immediately, and Logan forgot how to breathe.

Because his eyes were brown, and in the dim light of the single lamp, they absolutely shone.

His eyes were the same brown as Logan’s hair, and Logan’s eyes became that offensive green around the same time as Remus dyed his for the costume, and that’s all the confirmation Logan needed to push himself up onto the hands and lunge forward to kiss him. The effort is strenuous and the lurch almost makes him heave again, but oh Lord, he just found his soulmate and it’s actually him and-

“Woah, woah woah woah. Hold on there, cowboy.” Remus gently pushes him back down before their lips can meet, “You are very drugged right now. I am not kissing you drugged. Sober, hell yes. But not like this.”

“Y’re my-”

“Soulmate. I know. I kind of figured when I saw your eyes. But I figured… I might as well get you to like me before I dropped that kind of bombshell. Although… I was hoping that would be accomplished by basic flirting, but then the party started getting out of hand, so I was always busy with-”

“Patton’s on his way,” Virgil spoke up, joining the two on the bed. “You okay, Lo?”

“He figured it out,” Remus said softly, letting a hand card through Logan’s hair.

“I was wondering how long that would take.”

Logan gave a weak smile, his own fear and adrenaline starting wear off slightly. He was safe here, and he felt like he wasn’t going to be let out of sight for a while.

“Drink some more water, wallflower,” Remus whispered, helping him sit up, “We’ll take care of you.”

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #i kind of visualized that the man dropped the roofie in from his palm when he opened the drink #but i couldnt find a place to add that #not really that important tho #virgil sanders #patton sanders #rape tw #drugging tw #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #ts soulmate au #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Seven)

Summary: (Y/N) makes a break in the case that leads her and Jack into a dangerous situation, and something begins to shift in their partnership.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Seven West Coast Strategic Scientific Reserve, Los Angeles (Previous Chapter)

Rubbing at her temples in a weak attempt to rid herself of a splitting headache, (Y/N) once again cursed Michael Carter and his codes. They were easily the most challenging codes she’d ever attempted to crack, but a small part of her couldn’t help but admire his skill. A very small part, she thought through gritted teeth as her head throbbed in pain.

Hearing footsteps approaching her desk, (Y/N) reluctantly opened her eyes to see Jack saunter past and drop a folded note into her crowded inbox without a single glance at her. She watched as he entered Daniel’s office before grabbing the note and unfolding it; her eyes skimmed over the message, which she had to read twice to confirm she wasn’t seeing things:

Take a break from M’s codes, Specs, you look like your brain’s gonna explode.

Glancing up from the note, her eyes immediately found Jack looking at her through the glass window of the office, his eyebrows raised expectantly. She shook her head and struggled to suppress a smile as he rolled his eyes in exasperation. As well-meaning as his note had been, both she and Jack knew that until she decoded another of Michael’s codes, their investigation was virtually on hold. Jack had reached out to some more of his friends in D.C. in order to learn more about Michael’s military background, but the continuation of their investigation rested squarely on (Y/N)’s overly-stressed shoulders. If I keep this up I’m gonna get grey hair before I’m thirty, (Y/N) groaned inwardly as she returned her gaze to the code before her. Before she could resume her work, Peggy entered the bullpen and as she made her way towards her desk, (Y/N) surreptitiously covered the code with her translation journals.

“Can I ask you for a favor, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) smiled warmly, concealing any signs of fatigue from her friend. “Of course, what can I do for you?”

“The New York branch is a little overwhelmed with decoding old wartime messages for documentation and filing, so Daniel’s offered them our services.” Peggy began thumbing through one of the files she’d set down on the desk. “They’re fairly straightforward codes, so they won’t do anything to aggravate that headache of yours; in fact, they may even serve to relax you.” (Y/N)’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and Peggy’s grin widened at her reaction. “Oh, please, (Y/N), we worked together for years; you don’t think I’ve forgotten how you act when your headaches come on, do you?”

“You’re right, Peg, I really shouldn’t be surprised at this point in our relationship.” Shrugging good-naturedly, (Y/N) helped her friend clear a space on the desk and set up their codebreaking materials. Once Peggy had fetched them each a strong cup of tea, they began their work. Just as the younger woman had predicted, (Y/N) quickly found herself relaxing as she decoded message after message, only pausing in order to sip her lemon and honey tea.

They had been working in comfortable silence for a while when Peggy suddenly spoke. “Good Lord, I haven’t seen this style of code in years! You’re the one who introduced them to me at Bletchley, remember?”

“Hmm?” Dragging her eyes away from her half-finished code, (Y/N)’s lips curved into a smile as she studied the page in Peggy’s hand. “Ah, poem codes! As I recall, you thought it was an archaic code and a waste of time to learn. You still feel the same way about it?”

“Oh, sod off.” Peggy’s withering look was broken by a reluctant grin. “I’ll admit, poem codes are useful but they’re still a pain in the ass to decode and no one outside of Literature students could possibly know enough poems to successfully utilize them.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to argue but froze as inspiration suddenly struck. Thinking fast, she gathered her translation journals and Michael’s code, whipped off her reading glasses and stood. “I forgot, I’ve got to get these write-ups down to Rose before lunch; I’ll be back in a jiffy, Peg!” With a brief glance in the direction of Daniel’s office, (Y/N) strode out of the bullpen and down the halls, quickly finding herself ducking into a cramped supply closet. She was practically bouncing in excitement by the time Jack squeezed his way into the space and flicked on the small lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. “I’ve done it!”

“What, finally had a mental breakdown? I know we need those codes cracked but you’re gonna run yourself into the ground at the rate you’re going, and-”

Unable to contain herself, (Y/N) reached up and covered his mouth with her hand; his eyes widened in surprise and before he could scowl, (Y/N) removed her hand and exclaimed, “I figured out how Michael’s creating his codes! He’s using his background in Literature to develop his own coding style! Remember, you read in that file the other week that he attended Cambridge before enlisting in the British Armed Forces, majoring in Philosophy and minoring in Literature; he definitely would’ve learned enough there to be able to create new codes.”

Jack’s brow rose and she got the sense that he was impressed by her epiphany. “And this new style, you can figure it out?”

“It’ll still be a challenge but since I think I have an insight into his process now, it shouldn’t take nearly as long as it has been.” With a triumphant grin, (Y/N) gestured to the code in her hand. “How about we decode this one over a turkey and Swiss at the diner tonight?”

“Sounds like a plan. Maybe we can also think of a better meeting place while we’re at it?” Jack’s face suddenly broke out into an amused grin. “I mean, the others might get the wrong idea if they catch us in here. You and me alone in a tiny supply closet…? Very scandalous.”

(Y/N) arched an unimpressed brow. “Is that so?”

“Oh, definitely. It’ll spread all over the office that the new codebreaker’s seduced the innocent Chief and then my reputation’ll be ruined.” His grin widened and (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she worked on extricating herself from the closet. “Hey, defending my virtue’s very important to me, Specs, don’t knock it!”

“Well, in that case…” Standing on her tiptoes and without a second thought, (Y/N) pressed a quick kiss on his neck and pulled away to admire the red lipstick staining his skin and shirt collar; with a smirk of her own, she gazed up at Jack’s stunned face. “Have fun defending that one, Flyboy.”

Before he could respond, she ducked back out of the closet and made her way back to the bullpen, fanning herself with her free hand as she went; for some odd reason, her face had suddenly become uncomfortably warm…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks again for the ride, Specs, but I still say I could’ve made it back to Stark’s place okay on my own.”

(Y/N) took her eyes off the empty backroad to shoot the man beside her an amused look. “You sprained your ankle jumping off my fire escape; you and I both know that it’s going to hurt like a son of a bitch if you put more pressure on it than necessary, which would’ve happened if you stood waiting for a taxi. Besides, I feel a little guilty for laughing as hard as I did when you had to hide from Mrs. Espinoza in the juniper bush.”

Jack’s lips curled into a reluctant grin and he pointed a warning finger at her. “You tell anyone ‘bout that and you’re dead, you got it?” His grin widened. “You know, the last time I had to hide in a bush like that was when I was in high school; I was leaving my gal’s house when her old man came home early and to this day, I can’t look at a rose without feeling those damn thorns digging into my back.”

“Well, I’m sure your gal appreciated the gesture all the same, although I would’ve hid my fella in the garden shed if I were her.” She smirked but after feeling his eyes trained on her, she spared another glance at him. “What?”

“Did you date a lot in high school?” He raised his hands in defense when her brow rose in surprise. “Hey, I’m just getting to know my partner a little better, you don’t have to answer or anything…”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “And if I choose not to answer I’m sure you’ll just drop the subject forever, huh?” Out of the corner of her eye, Jack shrugged again and she sighed in exasperation. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, Flyboy, but no, I didn’t date in high school. Even if my father hadn’t forbidden me from dating and I wasn’t overwhelmed with schoolwork, I doubt any of the fellas at my school were interested in me that way and to be frank, I wasn’t very interested in them, either.”

“Well, any guy would-wait, why’s that sign look so familiar?”

Pulling to the side of the road, (Y/N) squinted to make out the sign in the faint glow of her headlights. “‘Fieldman Family Orangery, Next Left.’ I think it’s just a-” Her eyes suddenly widened in recognition. “Wait. Michael’s personnel file had an Adam Fieldman listed as a roommate from Cambridge. You don’t really think…?”

Jack had already retrieved her briefcase from the back seat and withdrawn the message she’d decoded over dinner. “You tell me.” Written in her barely-legible handwriting was ‘FFO-Lab/Dist.’ “C’mon, at best we get more intel on whatever the hell Michael and his people are doing and at worst, we break into some poor geezer’s orangery by mistake.”

“Maybe we should wait for another day…?”

“It’s a Friday night, so there’s bound to be nobody hanging around and the moon’s out, which’ll provide us with some natural light. All perfect conditions for a little snooping around.”

Ignoring the feeling of foreboding in the pit of her stomach, (Y/N) switched off the headlights and slowly drove closer to the orangery; endless rows of orange trees ringed a sizable factory building and off to the side was a lot filled with a dozen large delivery trucks. She parked the car behind the trucks and reached into her purse for her gun and pen. “You stay here, I’ll take a quick look around and-”

“Wait, what the hell are you talking about?” It was Jack’s turn to look apprehensive. “You’re not going in there alone.”

Once again sighing in exasperation, (Y/N) gestured to Jack’s ankle. “It’s a little difficult to snoop around when you can’t even walk, Flyboy, wouldn’t you say? I’m a fully trained field agent so I’ll be more than fine by myself in there. Okay?”

With his arms crossed over his chest, Jack’s hardened blue eyes bored into hers and she stared right back, raising a single challenging brow. After several moments, he turned away and heaved a sigh. “Okay, fine, I won’t go in.” When she made no move to leave the car, he threw up his hands in exasperation and gave her a look. “I promise, I’ll be a good boy and stay in the car! Happy?”

“I suppose so.” Without waiting for a reply, (Y/N) opened the car door and quietly stepped out.

Instead of arguing with her some more, Jack leaned forward and caught her arm before she could move, his hand wrapping firmly around her bare wrist; it might��ve been her imagination, but she could’ve sworn that her skin flushed at the contact. “And what’re you gonna do with a pen, Specs, write on ‘em?”

“You’d be surprised.” She gave him a secretive smile and withdrew her arm from his grasp before closing the car door and sneaking her way towards the closed factory, tucking the seemingly innocent pen into her pocket as she went.

Now this takes me back, (Y/N) thought to herself a handful of minutes later when she went about picking the lock of one of the side doors; she’d learned the skill shortly after joining up with the Howling Commandos and would never forget how many of her hairpins had been destroyed during her practice sessions with the soldiers. I’m pretty sure Barnes promised he’d buy me some more once the war was over, she recalled with a twinge of sadness as she remembered the easy-going Sergeant, but the feeling was quickly replaced with elation when the door unlocked with a faint click.

Nudging the door open with the toe of her shoe, (Y/N) raised her gun and entered what appeared to be a large packaging room; stacks of wooden crates formed long rows and in the faint light of the moon streaming through the skylights, she could barely make out an open doorway. Just as she was about to continue into the room, the sudden sound of footsteps grew increasingly louder and caused her to spring into action; moving as quietly as she could, (Y/N) hurried down the left-hand row and after spotting a gap in between two crates, hurriedly ducked into it and took a deep breath. The heavy footsteps grew louder before stopping altogether.

“There’s nothin’ here, wise-ass! I told you you was hearin’ things!”

“Yeah, yeah, just get your ass back here and deal, Jerry, I ain’t got all night to wait for you!” Another masculine voice called from the opposite end of the room. “And bring some more smokes while you’re at it!”

“Hey, you better not be lookin’ at my cards…!” Jerry’s voice faded as he hurried back to the opposite end of the room.

(Y/N) took a moment to let out the breath she’d been holding before poking her head out of her hiding spot to check if the coast was truly clear. Satisfied, she emerged and continued moving silently through the room and towards the open doorway; they must be security guards for the company, she reasoned as she flattened herself against the outstretch of wall behind the propped-open door, it doesn’t necessarily mean this place is connected to our case.

The moment the thought of sneaking back to her car to lay into Jack for his paranoia crossed her mind, (Y/N)’s attention was drawn to the muffled sound of voices through the open doorway. Ducking out of her hiding place, she crept into the next room and instantly spotted the light shining through the cracked-open door to her left; being mindful of her footsteps, she slowly moved closer to the doorway and flattened herself against the wall before finally allowing herself to listen to the voices.

“Listen, I’m okay with sending out another shipment in the next few weeks but we need to be more careful, the SSR-”

“-Hasn’t got a single clue about what it is or who invented it. My source inside the agency told me that their Chief has officially closed the case and that their only piece of evidence is locked away in their archives.”

The first man sighed in frustration. “All right, all right, but remind your hired goons not to leave another one behind at the next hit or that’ll have every agency in town on our tail. And tell the boss-”

“Tell him what? That you’re unsatisfied with your deal? I’m sure he’d love to-”

“N-no! No, no, I only meant…he needs to remember Chief Thompson…”

With a chuckle, the second man replied, “Concerned, are we? How touching. Rest assured, the boss hasn’t forgotten about that particular problem. Jack Thompson will soon be taken care of the same way he’s already taken care of that careless Templeton…”

Although she felt the handle of the gun slip out of her grasp, (Y/N) didn’t fully register it until the sound of the gun hitting the stone floor echoed throughout the room. Her heart jumped into her throat as she acted on pure instinct; she darted behind a stack of crates stamped with a vaguely-familiar symbol and fumbled with her jacket pocket, from which she finally withdrew her compact mirror. Holding it in front of her and adjusting its angle, (Y/N) watched as the door swung open and the two men hurried out. Because of the glare on her mirror, she was unable to make out any of their features and before she could get a closer look, the men caught sight of her gun on the floor and immediately ran back into the room; a moment later, a shrill alarm began blaring throughout the orangery.

“Shit.” She snapped her mirror closed and withdrew her pen from her pocket while she listened to the sounds of heavy footsteps approaching. Six men armed with pistols that just branched out into two groups, she deduced, most likely more on the way so there’s only one way to play this. After taking a quick peek around the crates and deep bolstering breath, she clicked down on the top of the pen and tossed it in the direction of the three armed men, flattening herself against the crates as the pen released a small-scale explosion that knocked out all three men.

As expected, the other three men were drawn to the commotion and (Y/N) used their reaction to her advantage; once they ran past her hiding spot, she leapt out and threw her compact mirror at the back of one of the men’s head, the force of it knocking him clear to the floor. Charging the two remaining men, she punched one roundly in the face and kneed him in the groin, using his unbalance to roughly shove him head-first into a stack of crates. The second man fired his gun at her and she ducked down just in time to avoid the bullet; she thrust a foot out and kicked his shin with the sharp heel of her shoe, jumping to her feet as yelled in pain and clutched his leg. She gave him a quick sidekick to the head and watched as he slumped to the ground, unconscious. The first man she’d thrown her compact at staggered to his feet, only to fall back down when (Y/N) grabbed an empty crate and slammed it upside his head.

Wasting no time, she dropped the crate, sprinted out of the room and back into the packaging room, the thought of escape being the only thing on her mind. Just as her eyes fell on the door she’d entered the orangery through, something large and solid slammed into her and sent her flying into the stack of crates to her left. She landed harshly onto the floor amid the broken wood and groaned in pain as she struggled to her feet, but a hard hit to her face sent her sprawling back down and her eyes instinctively squeezed shut.

“You’re one tough cookie, ya know?” The man standing over her let out an impressed whistle, and she recognized it as the voice of Jerry, one of the poker-playing guards from earlier. She also recognized the unmistakable sound of a gun being loaded and was silently thankful she’d kept her eyes closed. “Shame it’s gotta end this way.”

“Yeah, you took the words right outta my mouth.” (Y/N)’s eyes flew open just in time to watch as Jack Thompson knocked the man out with a single punch; the man fell to the ground in a heap and Jack immediately limped over to help her stand. “C’mon, we’ve gotta go, I already took care of the other guards but more’ll be coming…” They ran as quickly as their injuries would allow and since they were in such a hurry, (Y/N) didn’t complain when Jack dove into the driver’s seat and gunned it down the road. “That…that was the definition of a SNAFU.…”

(Y/N) struggled to control her erratic breathing and her shock was beginning to wear off, only to be replaced by white-hot anger. “I thought I told you to stay in the car!”

“Seriously? I just saved your ass from getting shot and you wanna argue about that now?”

“You didn’t trust that I could gather intel on my own, did you? That’s why you went in after promising you wouldn’t!”

“No, I went in after you ‘cause I heard a goddamn bomb go off and thought you were in trouble! And of course I trust you to get intel on your own, you’re an agent for crying out loud!”

She let out a heartless laugh at that. “This coming from the man who recently called me a weak, emotional liability!” Jack’s head turned sharply to face her and his dumbfounded expression only served to spur on her anger. “Face it, Jack Thompson, you don’t give a shit about our partnership, you just wanted to collect the intel by yourself for your investigation, and I-!” As she shifted in her seat, a white-hot pain erupted in her left leg and she couldn’t suppress the loud gasp of pain as her eyes squeezed shut. “Argh!”

“What’s wro-? Oh shit…” Jack’s abrupt shift in tone caused her to blink her eyes open and follow his horrified gaze to the expanding bloodstain on her thigh. “How deep’s that wound?” She didn’t answer, as the sight of her own blood was already causing her head to loll and her vision to darken. “Specs? (Y/N)! Hey hey hey, (Y/N), stay awake, you hear me? C’mon, keep your eyes open!” Her eyes were drifting closed, and the last thing she clearly remembered before succumbing to the darkness was the newfound pressure on her leg and the sound of her name being called over and over...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Cliffhanger! Thank you so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Eight

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #jack thompson #peggy carter #daniel sousa #michael carter #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve

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dualswordskings · 3 years

Text

Ulrich handles very well being in love with Odd. (spoiler : it's not true)

aaaaah i’m finally done with this rbfkdjw i hope you guys will enjoy it !! i’m not english so sorry if some things don’t make sense. (i’d love to see what you thought about this so don’t be shy to comment or leave tags if you reblog 👉👈) a big thanks to @vexfulfun for motivating me to write this djsjd that being said... enjoy !

• Yumi comes out to Ulrich as aromantic a few months before they finally beat Xana, and now that they're on the clear about the nature of their relationship, it's easier to move on from the massive crush he had on her since Day One. Considering how pretty chaotic their relationship was sometimes, he thinks that the next time he gets a crush on someone it will be easier (spoiler : it's not. it's really not.)

• He figures out his crush on Odd a few months after putting an end to Lyoko, during the summer break. They got closer a few weeks before the end of school, and they've been texting or calling each other almost non-stop since the holidays started. Now Ulrich is lying on his bed, looking at the blank walls of his bedroom, wishing Odd was here to fill the silence like he did in their shared bedroom at the school, when it hits him and he's like. oh. Oh. OH NO.

• At first he thinks it's going to go away if he doesn't think about it, so he tries, but now that he knows, he sees it everywhere. And it doesn't help that Odd keeps texting him things like "hey it sucks without you, Kiwi and i miss you". (Granted, Odd does says the first part to every of their friends, but the Kiwi part ? that's just for him, and Ulrich loathes how proud and happy it makes him feel)

• So, yeah, the "i do not see it, i can not see" method doesn't work at all, but it's okay ! Ulrich is Smart, he can find a solution to that ! Maybe if he represses it hard enough, it will go away !

• Surprise : it doesn't work too.

• So whatever. Ulrich has a crush on Odd. It's fine, it's totally fine. (It's not.) He can handle this. (He can't.)

• Ulrich ends up being in a constant crisis about it during the whole summer, until the last week before school starts and he texts Yumi to tell her everything because, and he hates to admit it, he can't handle it and he might need help.

• Yumi instantly makes fun of him BUT she does help and at the end of the day Ulrich is much calmer about it because he finally got it off his chest and can now think a bit more clearly.

• So, he has a crush on Odd. And it... might be not that bad. Actually, it's okay. Yes, he has a crush on his best friend, and so what ? It's just a crush, and it will all be over soon, when they get back to seeing each other everyday and Ulrich is going to remember the little things he dislikes about Odd and why they would never work together anyway.

• ...It’s a month and a half in the school year when Ulrich thinks he should start taking circus classes, because he's becoming a clown.

• His crush does not go away. His crush gets WORSE. because of course he dislikes things about Odd, like how coward he can be sometimes, or how bad his feet smells, but it's not important compared to how many things he -loves- likes about him. and the worst thing is, they do work well together !

• Ulrich hates it ! He is tired of feelings, he doesn't want them ! Why did it have to be Odd ! Why does he keeps getting crushes on people he shouldn't !

• Eventually, after a long time.. He learns to live with it. He ends up accepting (for real, this time) the fact that he has a crush on Odd, and that it's not going away any time soon. And he's fine with that ! If he's destined to pine over Odd forever, then so be it. Ulrich finds that it's not a terrible way to live, anyway.

• He does try to date some people there and there during high school, but he always ends up cancelling plans after the second date because it's clear it's not going to work and people deserve better than being a last resort to a guy who has a crush on his best friend.

• He takes a gap year after high school, because he doesn't really know what he wants to do with his life. Odd goes to an art school in a close town, and ends up being roommate with Sissi, of all people ! (She moved out of their city before starting high school, and she changed a lot during that time).

• They don't see each other as much as they used to, since they're not in the same town anymore and they both have different things to do. They were both scared of drifting apart or not finding the time to hang out with each other (or with the rest of the group), but in the end they make it work.

• But still, a lot of things change. They spend week-ends together, whether it's Odd going to Ulrich's place or the opposite, and sometimes they go out, or they stay inside when they can.

• Ulrich barely sees Sissi because she's not here a lot during week-ends, and he still believes that Odd has been lying to everyone when he says she's nice now and they're getting along really well, because there's no way that's true.

• Anyway, the point is. They spend a lot of time together, and Ulrich ends up having dog food for Kiwi for when Odd comes over with him, and Odd ends up having Ulrich's clothes in his closet (and yes, sometimes he wears them but you can't blame him ! it's not his fault Ulrich keeps forgetting to take them back !) (what really happened is that Ulrich only forgot his clothes one time, and then he noticed Odd wore them, and look, he's enough of a disaster already, let him at least have this, he's been pining for *years* now). It's totally not gay, purely platonic, of course.

• And then comes The Competition. They don't remember when it started, but one day they noticed that every time they hung out outside, people mistook them as a couple and... well. They started playing along, calling each other ridiculous pet names, and of course it turned into a competion, to see who could come up with the worst pet name and who could be the most mushy.

• They're insufferable. Jeremie, Aelita and Yumi are planning their deaths because they're so tired of their stupidity.

• There’s no “rule” for this, but they never call each other pet names that are used a lot, like "babe" or "darling" etc. It always has to be ridiculous. Why, you ask ?

• Because one day Ulrich called Odd "babe" and they just. stared blankly at each other, both desesperatly trying to hide the fact that they were screaming inside, and both went "uh. that was weird. let's never mention that again." and that was it.

• So voila, everything is fine in their lives. They flirt (but as a joke), and they sleep in the same bed when they see each other during the week-end (because the couch is uncomfortable, and it would be rude to make someone sleep on it) and Odd wears Ulrich's clothes sometimes, and Ulrich keeps dog food in his apartment for Odd's dog (but there's nothing domestic about that). Everything is fine.

• Yumi, Aelita and Jeremie aren't as stupid as them though, and they kind of notice that... there's no way this is going to end well for Ulrich. (Ulrich hadn't planned on telling Aelita and Jeremie about his crush, but they figured it out themselves after a few years, because Ulrich is sometimes pretty obvious) (yes, Yumi, Aelita and Jeremie are keeping bets on who's going to confess first)

• So Yumi tries to talk to Ulrich, like 'hey maybe you should confess because you're kinda acting like a couple but you're not and we don't want you to see heartbroken the day Odd starts dating someone else'.

• And Ulrich wishes he could pretend everything is fine and there's no way this could go wrong, but he's a Responsible Adult now, or at least he's an old teenager, and maybe it's time to.. stop waiting. Maybe he could tell Odd, and it would make their friendship change, but maybe that's for the best. Maybe. So he promises to think about it, and he does.

• There's comfort in the way things are now, but at the same time, Ulrich has to move on someday, because as much as he loves loving Odd, it doesn’t stop it from hurting. and he doesn't want to wait until forever to confess either. the only reason he hasn't done it by now is because he's never sure about how Odd really feels about him, but then again, if he waits to be sure, then he'll never say anything.

• So it's decided. Ulrich is going to confess, and then life will move on, with or without Odd in it.

• He hopes it will be with Odd in it. He really, really hopes it will. He doesn't know what he would do if he had to live without him. Because before being his crush, Odd is his best friend since middle school, he's family, and Ulrich can't find the appeal of a life without Odd, no matter how hard he tries.

• (Fuck, Odd was right when he told him he wouldn't be able to live without him, the first day when they met.)

• It's a good thing to know you're going to confess. But the important question is, how are you going to do it ?

• Ulrich doesn't know. UnFortunately, he doesn't get the chance to think about it for too long.

• One week-end, while they're watching Pacific Rim again in Odd's apartment, with Odd buried in Ulrich's big hoodie, his legs resting on Ulrich's lap, Sissi comes home early.

• It's a little bit awkward between her and Ulrich, in the way that they're only acquaintances now, so they don't know each other really well. But that doesn't mean they don't get along, which is why it's not much of a problem when Sissi decides to watch the end of the movie with them.

• But she keeps glancing at them, especially Ulrich, until it's time for him to leave. And it's weird, because Ulrich doesn't understand why she would do that. It might be stupid, because it's not a big deal, but Ulrich got a sinking feeling in his stomach during the whole ride home and it doesn't leave him even after.

• Odd texts him a few hours later, and for the first time Ulrich doesn't want to know what he said. But still, he opens his phone and reads the text, because he's a weak man who can't refuse anything to Odd.

• It's something along the line "Sissi thought we were a couple hahahaha, that's so weird."

• It shouldn't be a big deal. It shouldn't. It's not the first time someone tells them they look like a couple anyway. Heck, they often pretends they are with the pet names competition. But there's something about that makes Ulrich sick in his stomach.

• Technically, nothing is wrong, because Odd still texted him, and he's laughing about it, like he always does, but. But Odd never uses capital letters, and he never types "hahaha" and he never puts punctuation in his texts, and sure, it's just some details, but Ulrich knows Odd and he knows that something is wrong and that somehow, now, everything is going to change. For the better or for the worst.

• He types back a simple "yeah, weird." and Odd never replies.

• It's... strange, for about a month. Odd starts avoiding him, answering his texts really late (if he answers them at all), never calling, coming up with shitty excuses to not spend time with him. They don't see each other once. Ulrich doesn't know how to feel about this situation.

• He's frustrated, because what the hell ? What happened ? Did he do or say something wrong ? He keeps replaying the last time they saw each other in his head, but he can't find anything out of the ordinary, except, well. their last texts.

• It angry, too. Because he doesn't understand. Odd had never been bothered when people mistook them for a couple, so why did he now ? And even if this was the reason, his behaviour still didn't make any sense. Odd would never stop talking to someone just for that, or at least he never did before.

• Did he discover Ulrich's crush on him and decided to put some distance between them because he thought it would be awkward to acknowleged it ? Odd had never acted like that when learning someone loved him, but maybe because they were best friends, this was different ?

• It hurts to think about it. It's not like Ulrich wasn't prepared to be rejected if he were to confess, but losing Odd like this ? It sucks. Odd is his best friend first and foremost, so of course Ulrich doesn't want him out of his life. He just always thought Odd would want him to stay in his, too.

• He's angry, and he's sad, and he's hurt and he's tired of this. It makes him mad that Odd was right when he said Ulrich wouldn't be able to live without him, and he’d like to believe that maybe he's got it all wrong and something else happened to make Odd stop talking to him, but he knows it can't be anything else after spending time with Yumi, Aelita and Jeremy. They all acted a little awkward, and Ulrich knows Odd still talks to them on the regular, and it's enough proof to know that the problem is indeed with him.

• He talks to Yumi about it, and she just tells him that Odd is an idiot and that maybe he should still confess so he can move on.

• Ulrich actually starts thinking about it, after the third week. Moving on that is- not confessing, because that is way too scary.

• And of course it's not going to be easy and it sucks but if Odd wants to act like a dumbass then fine, Ulrich isn't going to wait and cry about it forever. He deserves better than this bullshit anyway.

• (It doesn’t make it any less hurting. Ulrich is not really sure he wants to fully admit that he lost his best friend.)

• He tries to talk to Odd a few times during those three weeks of course, but it never ends anywhere. He either leaves him on read or answers vaguely and doesn't participate in the conversations. Ulrich tries to confront him one time, and they end up fighting. It's not a big fight, but it's still shitty, and Ulrich stops trying after that, and Odd doesn't say anything.

• Then out of nowhere, on the fourth week, Odd calls him. Ulrich stares in shock and considers for a brief moment not answering and ignoring him, because that would only be fair, but he ends up answering, because maybe this their chance to make it right again and fuck, he missed his best friend, okay ?

• It's... it's awkward. At first, Odd tries to act like nothing happened, and Ulrich pretends that they don't need to talk about it, but they both know ignoring the elephant in the room won't resolves anything.

• And surprise ! After a few awkward silences, they do end up talking about it. Or at least a little.

• Odd apologies, but doesn't offer any explanations, and Ulrich decides that it's enough, at least for now.

• They start catching up on what they missed during the month, though not a lot happened on both sides, and they joke around and that's pretty much it.

• Ulrich is sure life is going to go back to normal (until he confesses), and he's happy with that, but then it's the end of the call, and Odd tells him about this movie that's going to come out soon and how they should go watch it together, and Ulrich agrees, and Odd says "cool, so it's a date then ?" which is. what. WHAT.

• Ulrich takes five whole minutes to answer because his brain decided to shut down. He's not sure if it's a joke, like their pet names competition, or if it's a dream, but it can't be real. Except Odd is silent at the end of the line, so he must be serious, and oh, Ulrich is a weak, weak man.

• "Uh. Yeah, ok." "Cool, see you on the week-end for our date then !"

• And that's it. That's how the call ends and Ulrich doesn't know for how long he stares at his phone like it holds the secrets of the universe, but when he finally registers what happened, a lot of time has passed.

• Ulrich has a date. With Odd.

• He wakes up Yumi by calling them. (They're mad because they lost the bet on who will ask the other out on a date first, but she doesn't tell him that.)

• And so the week-end comes, and Ulrich gets ready. to go on his date. with Odd.

• He's expecting this to be a bad prank but still, he takes his time to dress well and make sure he looks good. And then he goes pick up Odd on his motorcycle and tries his best not to have a gay panic when Odd comes out of his apartment wearing his best date outfit with the jean jacket Ulrich bought him for one of his birthday.

• They go to the cinema, and it's awkward at first, because how are you supposed to act on a first date with your crush who's also your best friend who you also haven't talked to since a month ? It's.. a little bit weird, doing romantic coded things together for real and not as a joke, but it's nice. It's something they could get used to, something they /want/ to get used to.

• And so it doesn't take long for them to be comfortable around the other again, and everything falls back to normal, and they have an amazing time.

• None of them confess that day, because they want to take the time to enjoy this new thing, and they go on a lot of other dates and Ulrich feels weird because he's not used to have luck on his side when it's about romance, but he's definitely not complaining about it.

• A few months later, when they're coming home to Ulrich's apartment after a midnight walk with Kiwi, Odd tells him about the month when they stopped talking to each other. It slowly becomes a confession, because it turns out Odd realized he was in love with Ulrich after Sissi's comment and didn't know how to process it, but Ulrich cuts him in the middle of it to confess how he feels because 1) he hasn't been suffering all these years only to not confess first and 2) Yumi would kill him if he didn't.

• So that's how they start dating.

• Yumi, Aelita and Jeremy are like "finally ! we can have peace now. no more them being fools." and also very happy because they've been waiting for this for so long and their best friends deserves to be happy together.

• jokes on them though, because now that they're dating, they're worse than before. the pda, the jokes, the love confessions at any given time, they're everywhere. the awful pet names ? even worse now because they call each other regular pet names too.

• But hey, for their friends happiness, they can endure it. a little. they do deserve to be happy after all of this.

• Bonus :

Later, after a few years of being together, someone looks at them and goes "wow, you're such good friends ! i would love to have a bro like that", and it's the pet name competition nightmare all over again, except it’s reversed. Yumi, Sissi, Aelita and Jeremie have to deal with them calling each other "bro" or "dude" constantly and they regret being friends with them.

#voila !!!#hope you guys enjoyed whatever this is shfjskx #i will never shut up about odd and sissi friendship sorry #also yes yumi uses she/they pronouns !#this was actually fun to write #and the most words i wrote about a story in the last 3 years wtf #thank you for reading this if you made it this far !#here comes the general tags #code lyoko #code lyoko ulrich #code lyoko odd #code lyoko fanfics #not that this counts as a fanfic but yea #code lyoko headcanons #odd della robbia #ulrich stern #odd x ulrich #do they have a shipname ?#idk #ulrich x odd #i love their friendship too #but this is my childhood show i get to choose what is platonic or not #i probably will write a thread about odd's perspective ? it might be shorter tho #and i plan to write one about yumi coming out as nb to her brother #and one about things in general #alright that's it #bye bye #oddrich

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

Note

Oh! Sorry for the late reply, but it’s not canon lore, haha. Part of me hopes it kinda was just to give Keqing a bit more introspection but alas, Mihoyo has tens of different characters to make so it’s understandable. I thought of it as a modern au type of thing where Keqing ends up moving in a apartment complex only to be greeted with men she has to babysit as the price JHDJSHDJSJ– It’s a fun little idea, and at first, she hates them all but eventually, walking outside of her place for a free meal becomes an escape of sorts. Ningguang, her dreaded co-worker, makes sure she doesn’t hear the end of it and is like “Please, you’re almost 27 nowz. Get yourself a man already, you have quite the options.”

Also, congrats on getting Xiao! I haven’t gotten him yet but at the end of his banner, I think I can make around 20 rolls so here’s hoping he’ll come with those!

No worries at all, I take FOREVER to reply to anyone. Plus this week was midterms so I’m still recovering from that if you’re wondering why I’ve been so silent. Ahh I see, I still need to read Keqing’s lore but until then 👀 I am fully invested in this. We’ll make a 180k word slow burn fic together. Honestly, I really want to write some Chongyun, Xingqiu, Xinyan, and Xiao interactions. My brainworm mind wants Xingqiu to be the biggest little shit and tells Chongyun that there’s a demon that needs to be exorcised at Wangshu inn. Turns out it’s Xiao but Chongyun being the trusting friend that he is, doesn’t believe Xingqiu would lie to me and fully believes Xiao is a demon. Xiao doesn’t know how to socialize and he doesn’t know how to handle interactions so it’s this entire goose chase. Xinyan comes along because she’s always wanted to see a demon. I can imagine her yelling “DEMON! COME OUT YOU COWARD!” while Xiao is gripping onto the roof beam above them for dear life so he doesn’t get found out.

Ahh, I get that mihoyo wants to bust out new content but it also makes me sad that it will probably be awhile before we get Part 2 to anything. But oh well, I guess we can always make stuff up for part 2′s before Mihoyo proceeds to shred them apart haha. I love modern au, where everything is fine and happy and no one dies. Especially now since we’re all in self-isolation. It’s not much but being able to write is actually kinda therapeutic. Speaking of which, it’s valentines day today. I almost forgot because well, I’m asexual so no relationships for me, so I kinda forgot feb 14 had any importance haha. But hopefully you all that have partners stay safe if you plan on spending today together and for us single folk, hang out with friends^^ I’m having a movie/game night with everyone and I’m pretty excited.

---

But getting back on track. I love roommate schneegans. When I first read this with my sleep deprived brain, I thought you meant that she had to live with the same people she had to babysit when they were children. That’d be so awkward but funny haha. I can imagine Childe being such a wholesome kid like Teucer that when Keqing meets him again when he’s an adult she’s so sad. You were such a cute kid, where did things go wrong? This also applies to Diluc (RIP DILUC MAN) and Kaeya.

Diluc is so socially constipated that he acts rude af because he doesn’t know how to socialize. Reminds me of the type of guy that is thinking of cute puppies but as the scariest resting bitch face. The amount of emotional range he has makes Keqing wonder if he’s secretly planning on burning the apartment complex down to the ground or if he’s slept in the past week. He hasn’t. Man is crumbling so he’s gonna make the world crumble down with him in his woe is me bullshit (jk I love you Diluc). Keqing makes the customary “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m your new neighbor” but Diluc is actually running on fumes (he’s filter feeding at his point) that he looks so scary that Keqing almost runs away. Then the next day she sees him exit his home and he cleaned up so well that Keqing doesn’t recognize him. Assumed that Diluc lived with a brother that was in dire help. So she always offers him weird pick me up items and Diluc doesn’t know how to handle gifts so he just accepts them. He doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about since he lives alone but he assumes she’s some random cat lady.

Kaeya is such an ass. Like actually awful. Was the kind of guy to pull the fire alarm just to get out of class for the day. Probably does it in the apartment just to mess with Diluc, which inheritably messes with Keqing very fragile beauty sleep, but he always manages to escape with a slap on the wrist. Keqing has lost so much faith in the justice system after that. He seemed like such a nice guy, well in comparison to her first meetings with Diluc, until he found out she had a fear of frogs and proceeded to mail her a package of them. She’s been haunted by nightmares of waking up to one on her face and she’s wondering if she can get away with setting his home on fire and getting away the same way he does from pulling the fire alarm. It seems like poetic irony but as soon as she thinks this Kaeya is messaging her “don’t do it”. She doesn’t know how he got her phone number and she’s not going to find out.

Zhongli was the guy she went to highschool with where she had the fattest crush on. He still looks the exact same just taller and she can feel her inner agony seeping up when she spots him. Then proceeds to internally wail when they both enter the elevator and they live on the same floor. She’s internally begging and pleading that Zhongli doesn’t recognize her, but of fucking course he does and he remembers every little detail. The most deadpan face as he asks her if she still has the zhongli pin that some crazy club made for the student council they were both apart of. What pisses her off the most is that he’s actually genuinely curious and isn’t trying to make a stab at her. She hates him with every fiber of her being.

Childe seemed like such a cute kid (I fully believe he’s younger than Keqing, you cannot take this away from my cold dead heads) and he mentioned how he was moving away from his family but he misses his cute little sisters and brothers. Keqing felt so much wholesome love in her body until Childe mistaken her as being younger than him and messed up her hair. She almost screamed bloody murder but made the quick correction that she was in fact, much older than him. Which was the wrong fucking move because he became the biggest little shit. Kept calling her old with weak bones, “when are you going to fossilize?” that she’s sure if there wasn’t a law against second degree murder, she would do it right then and there.

---

I totally went off on a tangent right there haha. But yeah, I can imagine them all going to each other places for free meals and it’s actually some wholesome stuff. Kaeya and Diluc relive their childhood brother antics, Childe comes from a big family so he doesn’t get sad when he eats alone, Keqing gets to take a break and turn her brain off from work, and Zhongli is just happy to spend time with others after being in self-isolation and losing his wife (Jesus, reading this back I am so sorry Guizhong and Zhongli. This got so depressing holy shit).

“Please, you’re almost 27 nowz. Get yourself a man already, you have quite the options.” LOL I LOVE THAT SENTENCE HAHA. But ty^^ I’m so glad he came home with diluc. I BELIEVE IN YOU!! YOU’RE GONNA GET HIM. BRING YOUR MAN HOME!! I kinda wanna write some roommate hcs in my brainworm style. I’m going to go write that. Hang on. I’ll be back.

---

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! Love from me 💕💕💕

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gra-sonas · 3 years

Note

Hey! I hate to ask this, you already do so much for us! But would you mind just a tiny recap of Vlamis’ live from last night? You don’t have to go into a ton of detail or anything, I just saw that it was a half hour long. I have a weird anxiety thing that keeps me from watching lives and stories for the most. Still haven’t even been able to work myself up to watching the vlamburn one as much as I’d love to! 🙁

Either way, thank you for everything!

Okay, nonnie. I went and watched the whole thing again and wrote you a detailed account of what’s been said. I’ll link the live again, then you can watch here if you want to. Or not. Up to you. 🤗 Hope this helps. 💕

youtube

Brushing his teeth and flossing for 3 minutes while talking.

800 new follower lately “where have you been before?”

“Do you do anything to your hair at night?” He adds Moroccan hair oil in the morning, nothing at night.

“What’s your favorite of the drop?” He hasn’t seen everything from the drop (like the COSMIC tie-dye) bc he’s in Santa Fe. He loves the COSMIC and MALEX embroidered things (“so subtle”) bc they are in Vlamburn’s handwriting, he loves the Manesqueeze shirt bc you can make Alex and Michael kiss by putting your wrists together. He *loves* the candle (there’s one burning on his bedside table), the silky PJs are great, but he can’t decide on just one favorite thing.

“How’s Jesa’s sanity?” She needs like 3 weeks of sleep. He explains, that while we *are* the Vlambase, the Vlambase merch company’s just Jesa and Vlamis. Jesa has a team, but all the day-to-day things, ideas, emails/customer service (Jesa), the newsletter (Vlamis). They hadn’t collaborated with anyone before Tyler, so working with him was a new experience.

One fan mentions how they wanted to buy stuff but couldn’t. Vlamis says that he’s been there, and when he wanted something in the past he couldn’t afford, he started putting away a Dollar a day.

“Thought on One Direction?” Vlamis is a Harry Styles guy. “Harry Styles’ swagger is next level!”

“What do you think about Russia? Will Vlambase merch be available here?” Talks a bit about how annoying things are with shipping companies, says they wanted to protect themselves for the holidays, and now that the Christmas rush is over, some shipping options have become available again.

“Who came up with MANESQUEEZE” He ponders about it, and settles on Jesa. It was Vlamis’s ides to put tiny Alex and tiny Michael on the sleeves so that they can kiss tho. And Tyler came up with the idea to put a “toupee” on his head (in a previous drop, the NEVER LOOK AWAY design had tiny Alex and tiny Michael on the sleeves, but poor Alex was bald) for the design.

Someone got a MALEX pin and the candle. He knows the pin sold out fast, and he feels bad about that. They want everyone to get everything they want, but it’s difficult to make proper calculations how well an item will sell. The pandemic made things even harder. Like the PJ sets. Normally, they would wait until the sale ends and see how many sets were actually ordered, but during the pandemic, stock listings have been changing dramatically from day to day, so they had to pre-order the PJs and robes to make sure they had a certain number at their disposal. He said that they “overshot” on a couple of things, but ultimately sales have been great, and he appreciates that.

“I’m excited to make the MANESQUEEZE doodles kiss bc I do that with the NEVER LOOK AWAY shirt” Vlamis jumps up and shows his closet that’s full of Vlambase merch items.

“Why am I here, it’s almost 3am” He mentions that he’s been staying up until 4 in the past couple of days, but he has to be on set in 7 or 8 hours.

“Hello, just wanted to let you know that I got a tattoo for you” Vlamis asks for a photo and to be tagged.

“Kyle the packer [Vlamis’s roomie KA, who works in the warehouse when a new drop is ready for shipping]” Vlamis says they’re working him to death.

“Please save this live” He doesn’t know whether he’ll save it. Thinks the one with Tyler was important, but since it’s just him, he doesn’t think it’s important.

“I followed Jesa, Jesa is the real MVP” Vlamis says that Jesa is “a beast, and best in the game”. Quickly explains who Jesa is, and that she’s his partner in the Vlambase merch company. He mentions that she recently called him with an idea for Valentine’s Day, and he was like “Jesa, we need to relax!” But she loved the idea. She’s a big fan of RNM and the characters (and Tyler). “Jesa’s amazing.”

“What about new Soli art [Soli’s the artist who created the Boys Will Be Boys art for a previous drop]?” Vlamis smiles. “What about new Soli art. I like that idea. 😏“

“Your house [in New Mexico] is so cute.” Vlamis says thank you and shows the ceiling of the house (which he likes best). “Santa Fe is dope!”

“I adore your teeth” *shows his teeth* Says he had to wear braces (some even adjustable)

“I could’ve used my birthday money to buy something but I forgot” 🤨 << Vlamis’s face. “How you you forget, man?”

“Back to Twitter after this live” He mentions that he’d just been on Twitter before the live.

He got retweeted by Mountain Dew and loves it.

“I’m from Australia and hope my merch arrives before winter” Vlamis says he hopes shipping will be fast.

“Love the Valentines” They’re not actually Valentines, hence they’re “Love Notes”. Vlamis considers doing them not just around Valentine’s Day.

“You catch any of the CW shows returning this month?” “Might have to” But he knows what he’ll be catching on the 12th. “Prodigal Son, baby!”

“Where did you get the Game Boys?” Those are his Game Boys. He has a Game Boy Advanced and a Game Boy Color.

“How do you feel about Forlex?” *scoffs* 😒 “Yeah”

“So excited for the robe!” Vlamis gets excited. “The robes and the PJs are so comfy!” Talks about how it’s a bit weird, bc they don’t make them themselves.

Several people mention that their closet looks like his closet bc of all the merch and he loves that.

“How do you feel about Forlex” *gets agitated* “Why are you asking me this? Don’t do that to me, alright?” *softer* “Don’t do that.”

“How are you doing?” He’s doing very well. Very relieved that eh sale went well. This drop was like 3-4 months of work, the night before the sale felt like an entire month, too. Jesa and Vlamis Facetimed for more than 5hrs. They set up the website, and that’s how the glitch with the GIVE ME MALEX OR GIVE ME DEATH shirts and poster happened. They made a mistake and only noticed after the website went live.

“Do you know when S3 will air?” No, he thought it might’ve been sooner, but apparently not.

“I love your poetry from the last drop so why no poems this time?” He writes poems when he’s inspired, he hasn’t written a poem in a while. He’s currently preparing to direct his first movie in June 2021, and he’s been very focused on that.

“The Meet & Greet day changed.” Filming schedule changed bc they had snow, the schedule’s changing constantly. He’ll be set all day tomorrow (well, today, Jan 11) from 8am until 8 or 9pm. Sometimes they might even wake up in the morning and learn that the schedule’s been changed.

“You could talk about nothing and we’d still watch.” He doesn’t want to talk about nothing, wonders if anyone has any questions about the sale.

“I’m so excited about the robe. I was going to buy more but I’m broke.” He says we should be responsible.

Someone’s still waiting about their Black Friday stuff, but he says it’s the shipping company, not them.

“Vlamentines" He *loves* that, thinks it’s a good pun.

“Gotta support Aurora.” Always. 🥰

“Jealous Guerin in S3?” You’ll see, you’ll see.

“I placed 3 orders, last one last night. Give me Malex or give me death.” He loves it. He also mentions, that they’re working hard on figuring out how to combine orders in the future so people don’t have to pay for shipping several times. They just can’t do that logistically at the moment.

“Real talk, how often do you check your DMs?” He says, that some people might’ve noticed that he occasionally likes random photos on people’s IG pages. When that happens, it’s a sign that he read someone’s DM. He feels bad when he checks his mentions with a delay, and people’s stories have already vanished after 24hours. He sometimes doesn’t get to checking DMs for a week.

“Will we ever get the original pic of the kiss recreation?” *smiles* *waggles his eyebrows* “Maybe in the morning”

“So happy the Trevor Project was chosen for this merch drop!” He’s very happy, too. According to him, it was a no-brainer. Tyler’s worked with them in the past, so it made even more sense. They wanted to make sure that Tyler felt very strongly about wherever they’d be donating.

People urge him to go to sleep. “You want me to go to bed?”

“Why is your merch not available in India?” *deep breath* “It should be, it’s ridiculous. Unbelievable.”

“Your poetry was awesome.” He appreciates the praise and promises to write some more poetry.

Someone asks whether the movie he’ll be directing in June will be a comedy, but he says it’s the opposite. He’s mentioned in the past that Aurora and him will both act in the movie, but apparently he forgot about that. He doesn’t want to jinx the movie and doesn’t know how much he should reveal just yet. Talks a bit about 5 Years Apart.

Someone mentions that it’s Jeanine’s birthday on January 14th.

“Do (or don?) a face mask, Vlamis.” He refuses. Mentions his friend and roommate Spencer Waldner, who makes face masks.

“If there’s leftover merch, will you do another sale?” He says that most things are actually sold out bc they use Blank Clo’s blanks and will only make what’s been ordered. They might try to restock some pins tho, bc they went so quickly.

“USPS are a joke” He defends them. “They’re a public service, they’re trying hard, guys.”

“You should do a Vlambase drop with the Real Vlamis [a.k.a. Jeanie]” He’s excited and thinks it’s a good idea and asks if anyone’d be interested.

Someone congratulates him on directing his first movie. He points out that he’s directed before (Making It, a 3-part web series, it’s on YouTube).

“Would you ever come to Australia Comic Con?” He’d love to. Mentions that he’s supposed to be in Paris in May for a convention, but he’s not sure whether that’s gonna happen considering how things are currently going with the pandemic.

Some more talk about 5 Years Apart.

Circles back to doing a merch drop with Jeanine. People like the idea.

“Please save this live.” After an IG update, things have changed and he doesn’t know how to do it. In the past he had the option to save it [for 24hrs], now he can only upload it to IGTV.

“$30 shipping to Australia hurts my soul but I did it anyway.” He appreciates that and mentions, that he lived in Australia for 6 months in the past.

“Sing some Bright Eyes” He thinks his singing would hurt people’s ears.

Jesa Joy pops up in the chat and urges him to go to bed.

“Jesa is yelling at you.” Vlamis says that Jesa’s a “yeller”, and that she has a tattoo that says “Don’t yell tho”. He admits that Jesa often yells for a good reason. “I need to be yelled at sometimes.”

Someone asks him to accept a request to join his live. He says he’s pretty tired.

He says hello to someone from Germany (not me btw :P) “What’s up, Germany ✌️”

More people ask him to sing, but he says he cannot sing. He says it’s not like a joke or him being modest, he straight up can’t sing and is a horrible singer.

“Will there be a sequel to 5 Years Apart?” Maybe a sequel called “10 Years Apart” (he’s joking and visibly tired)

“Should I buy anything before the sale ends?” Yes.

Jesa Joy’s from Michigan, and Vlamis’s grandma’s from Middlesborough, Kentucky.

“Is Tyler singing again?” He doesn’t know. “I hope so. Love that kid’s voice” (Tyler’s 3.5 years older than Vlamis :P)

He’s getting sleepy and will read a little bit before bed. Considers drinking some Mountain Dew.

“Do you take design ideas.” Sure. Sometimes he sees design ideas from people they’ve been working on for months, but he’s gonna “steal” an idea from someone, he’ll tell them. He’ll steal it, though.

“Are you still reading SAGA?” He read the first one and is half-way through the second. He’s currently reading a book called “My First Movie” by Stephen Lowenstein. “How cliché.” Aurora got it for him.

Purple Skittles are his favorite. Purple everything.

“Your girlfriend’s the best girlfriend.” She is, she really is.

Asks Jesa Joy whether he should go to bed now.Even though it’s late, he’s hungry. Considers eating something. People tell him to go to bed.

He asks “Should I get naked and put on the PJs?” *waggles eyebrows* “I’M KIDDING, YOU’RE SICK. YOU’RE ALL DISGUSTING.” xD

“Don’t eat!” He laughs.

Says goodbye and says that Jesa’s posted a surprise picture.

“Any advice for aspiring actors?” Tells them to make their own stuff bc no one’s gonna hire them. (He’s being sarcastic). “It’s dark, but it’s what you need to hear.”

“Okay, love you guys. Thank you again! It was our best sale yet. Means a lot to me. Means a lot to Tyler. Us doing so well might mean that Tyler will work with us again. So I really appreciate it. Okay, I love you all.”

Jesa promises to post the pic in 4 minutes. He’s excited. “See, I got her to do it! The picture is kind of ridiculous.”

*pretends to take off his shirt, stops halfway through* “Noooooo, noooooo, noooooo!”

*throws kiss* “Love you guys, good night.”

#michael vlamis #vlambase #mgv ig #mgv interviews #nonnie asks

27 notes · View notes

hollyxqx · 4 years

Text

LOVER, LEAVER // JIMIN // 04

↪ PAIRING: Reader/Park Jimin (initally reader/Jungkook) ↪ SUMMARY: There’s only so much cheating you can take from your boyfriend when he’s on tour before you take matters in to your own hands. ↪ WORD COUNT: 8.4k

↪ WARNINGS: mentions of addiction/drugs | smut w/ premature ejaculation lol | there’s a DUI (don’t yell at me these are the laws where i live) | angsty people being messy

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | FINAL

Namjoon has become a semi-permanent feature around the apartment lately. It's a good thing, even if at times there's an awkward passing of each other in the hallway or moments of slightly uncomfortable silence.

There's been no apologies exchanged between the two of you since whatever that was one month ago in Hyerin's living room. Not that you wanted to give one or particularly receive one, but you would settle for the stiff politeness you exchange for Hyerin's benefit. He was meeting you halfway, effort equal to yours.

Not much else had changed in those thirty days, aside from your renewed contact with Jimin. It's tentative, hesitant, almost shy even like you don't know each other as well as you do but it's truly a welcome intrusion into your days. Perhaps Jimin's slowness is because he doesn't want to scare you away again.

The topic of Jungkook has yet to come up. You feel as if it's inevitable and dread it.

Jungkook is on your mind nearly daily, whether you like it or not. Since the night Hyerin had told you he was in one of the most inebriated states of his life he had barely been in contact with any one of his regular group of friends, occasionally you'd hear dribbles from Hyerin that he was okay but you were familiar with this pattern. You were worried. An underlying sense of doom twisted your insides whenever his face appeared in your thoughts.

You're not made of stone, even if you wish you were. Two years of affection don't vanish in the blink of an eye, and you always will want him to be happy. He might be telling his friends he's doing (and Hyerin quoted) fucking amazingly right now, but you know that's a lie he's telling himself.

When you see Hyerin for the first time that day you practically all but squeal with excitement, her tiny bump protrudes her slim figure now, nearly five months gone. It's been a few days since you'd last seen her in person and you swear she's grown already. She walks slowly into your shared place after staying with Namjoon for the last few days. He follows behind her.

The first thing you do is bombard her in the doorway, hands instantly going straight to her bump. "God y/n, you're obsessed." She laughs, playfully annoyed but her hand joins yours when there's a flutter as the baby rolls as you coo.

"I swear you've literally grown in the last 5 or whatever days." You tell her, marvelling at her stomach. It's the first time a close friend of yours has been with child and keeping up with her progress has been exciting.

"Well, all we mostly did was eat, didn't we?." She looks to Namjoon who nods silently. "That might be me growing, not baby."

They come inside and you make yourself scarce, disappearing to your own room to give them some space, and well, avoid Namjoon.

Lately much of your time has been spent looking for graduate work. It's unfulfilling and you've yet to find anything substantial but it keeps you occupied. You sit at your laptop and scroll endlessly. Eventually your eyes start to burn and water with the strain of staring at a bright screen to long, followed by an accompanying rumble of your stomach, which means it's definitely time for a break.

You open your bedroom door and listen for a few minutes. It's silent which means you'll likely be undisturbed. The faint sound of a television can be heard but you're sure it must be the one in Hyerin's room, so you head to the kitchen.

As you pass the living area you see Hyerin sleeping on the sofa, head resting on Namjoon's shoulder while his arm drapes lazily over her. You can only see the back of his head so you have no idea if he is awake or not. You don't hang around to find out.

The kitchen is pretty bare these days since your roommate has entered the nausea phase of her pregnancy and is still deciding what makes her sick and what doesn't. You settle for toast. It's not exciting but it's quick.

"Y/n?"

You look to the sound of your name, surprised to find Namjoon standing behind you. He looks as uncomfortable as you feel. "Hey..." You saw slowly. You sound awkward trying to pretend to be chill. "Um. Do you want some food?"

"No." He says. "Thanks."

The silence hangs like a lead weight. You silently scream at him just go away, neither of us wants this!

"I wanted to," He begins. Then coughs. You wait. His eyes look at anything but you when he tries again. "I wanted to apologise to you."

Oh. You're not sure if this is much better than the awkward silence. "That's alright, honestly." You dismiss.

"It isn't. I've been thinking a lot about what you said." He stuffs his hands in his pockets and stares at his shoes. You feel like you're on a hidden camera show or something. You've never seen him act like this before. He's practically shy at this point. "About this baby not wanting me."

"Namjoon," You sigh. "I didn't mean it. I'm sorry, I was just upset and feeling protective about my friend."

"No, that's not what I mean." He shakes his head. "You did mean it. But it's okay, I fuckin' need to hear it."

You just stare silently at him.

"I mean, you could have said it a bit more kindly." He jokes, trying to relieve the tension. You offer him a small smile. "The sentiment was true, and I had never thought about it like that until you laid that truth bomb on me."

"Oh." You hear yourself say.

"I had a dad who didn't give a fuck about me, y'know?" He scratches the back of his neck and looks away. You could swear he was blushing. "Didn't want me and bailed on mom the second he could. If he were to come into my life now, I'd tell him to get lost. Hated that guy my whole life, yknow. I don't want a kid to feel that way about me, ever. Wasting their entire life resenting me." He takes a deep breath. "I just wanted to say thanks, I guess."

You guess your words were part of the impact on the recent change in his behaviour. You hadn't intended them to be but you're glad they did. The toast you were making pops and both you and Namjoon jump a little.

"You don't have to thank me." You leave the bread where it is. "I'm sorry I was so rude about it."

"I'm sorry I called you a bitch."

"I kind of was."

You both laugh a little. Tension relieves slightly and the awkwardness isn't as palpable anymore.

"Things are going well," He states, referring to Hyerin. "I don't know what's going to happen with me and her, but I'll be here for that kid no matter what, which I guess is the important thing."

"This might sound insincere and I promise it isn't, but I think that's really honourable of you Namjoon."

He shrugs the compliment off, but looks a little happy nonetheless. "Anyway, I'll leave you to your food."

Just as he's about to leave you want to take advantage of the moment and ask about Jungkook. You call out to him and he freezes looking at you expectantly. You almost bottle it and lose your nerve. "Is...is Jungkook okay?"

His entire face changes, expression unreadable. "He's alive, if that's what you mean."

"That's not what I mean."

"Y/n," He lets out a long breath. "No. No he's not okay."

"Is there anything I can do?" God, you feel so guilty and so helpless.

"I don't think there's anything any of us can do right now." Namjoon says sadly. "You can't help someone who won't help themselves."

On that note, he leaves the room.

***

The latest job interview feels like it went well, but so did the last three. You don't pin any hope on it as you walk to the subway, portfolio under one arm, empty paper coffee cup in the other. It gets tossed in the bin at the station. You learned your lesson the first few times; don't get too excited. Although it's hard not to when you want something so badly and it feels within your grasp.

At this point you don't mind working for free, you still have your job at the restaurant. Some money for your hard earned degree wouldn't be unwelcome however.

You sit on the platform waiting for your train, feeling uncomfortable in your outfit. It's very corporate - heels, pencil skirt, blouse. Not very you at all but the interviews require it. According to the electronic information board your train will be here in 4 minutes. Your leg shakes impatiently.

You happen to turn your head at the exact moment Jimin steps on to the platform. His painting studio is nearby which you conveniently forgot, it makes sense for him to be here. You're the one on strange territory, not him. Still, it's a shock to the system. It's been three months since you've seen him in person. His hair is darker, the sandy blonde gone and he's a little leaner; but it's Jimin.

He spots you and slows down momentarily. He's as surprised as you are.

"Hey." He breathes when he reaches you.

"Hi." You smile.

He gestures to your portfolio with a nod of his head. "How'd it go?" Earlier you'd told him through text your plan for that day.

"We'll see." You say as you shrug. "I don't want to get my hopes up."

"Don't worry, I'm sure it went well." He assures with a warm smile. You think he looks as good as ever. "Are you headed home?"

"Yeah." You say. "I can't wait to get out of these clothes. I'm done being secretary barbie for today."

Jimin laughs. "I kind of like it." You give him a sceptical look. "What?" He grins, shooting his best innocent glance. You shake your head. "Listen, y/n, do you want to grab a cup of coffee?"

"Now?"

He nods.

You have nothing better to do, so you agree.

***

It's not strange being with Jimin like this. Which is strange in itself. You anticipated some awkward tension after so many things were unsaid, uncertain and unclear but there was none. He was just Jimin. The same sweet, kind man you'd met two years ago, let into your bed and then proceeded to break his heart. You're not sure if he's selfless or just a glutton for punishment.

He tells you work is great, better than it's ever been which makes you happy. He's talented so it's not a shock but a welcome surprise. He's recently moved to a bigger apartment that he loves. He even thinks he's ready for a pet, although you're sure that last part is said slightly in jest.

You fill him in a little more on your life, texts exchanged you can only say so much. Jimin gets an update on Hyerin which makes him smile. You tell him about Namjoon - the argument and subsequent apology. The only topic left is Jungkook. It feels like Jimin senses it too because a tension seems to form.

"So..." He says.

"So." You mimic.

He licks his lips. "How is everything...else? Are you still single?"

"Yes, I am." You almost want to laugh at the way he asks the question.

"Me too."

"Are you prying about Jungkook?" You tease.

"Kinda." He laughs. "I didn't know how to bring it up since we were having a good time."

"It's ok." You offer him an encouraging smile. "I haven't seen or heard from him. You?"

"Actually yeah." says Jimin. You raise a brow in surprise. That was unexpected. "A few texts here and there that are erratic to say the least. Sometimes he hates me, sometimes he's sorry. It's kind of worrying actually."

"Namjoon kind of alluded to the same sort of thing. He's worried too."

Jimin nods solemnly. "I always try to reply as best I can, just so if something - touch wood - bad, happens Jungkook knows that door of communication is still open. But he never really responds to me. Just texted more incoherent thoughts." He lets out a long sigh. "Even though we were both shitty friends to each other, I've known him too many years. I have to be there for him no matter what."

A few moments of contemplative silence pass. The coffee shop is rather quiet at the moment, the only other people in the small cafe is a teenager, nose buried in a laptop and a couple in the corner. The boy has shaggy black hair, and is holding onto his girl like she's a prized possession. Sadly, it reminds you of Jungkook during happier times, he always was a little possessive but in a charming way that made your heart swell when you saw him.

You're not entirely sure what to make of the information you've just received. At the very, very, very least, you're glad that Jimin is still there for his friend regardless.

"In spite of all that I'm glad we ran into each other today." You say as lightly as possible. It makes Jimin smile.

"I am also. I've wanted to ask you to meet up so many times but I knew you wanted space." He blushes a little. "I'm glad fate intervened."

"I think it was better this way, actually."

You finish your coffees and Jimin walks you home. His arm occasionally brushes against yours as you walk. When you reach your building the two of you pause in front of it. You wonder if he's going to kiss you and it makes your heart thud wildly. The jury's still out on whether you even want that or not.

"Thanks for walking me home."

"No problem."

He stares at you for a beat. "Can we do this again?"

"Coffee? Uh sure." You reply, slightly confused. He shakes his head.

"No. Or yeah, whatever you want. I just want to see you again. Maybe...like a date?" He gives you such a hopeful yet promising look that's so endearing it almost physically hurts. You open your mouth to reply and as if he anticipates that your about to refuse him he hurries out, "We can take it really slow. No pressure. Just spending time together."

"Alright," You agree, softening. "I'd like that."

Jimin leaves, looking as if he just won a prize of his own.

***

You smile as you remove your jacket and shoes at the front door, mind still entirely occupied with thoughts of Jimin. Your quickly brought back to earth by the voices of Namjoon and Hyerin. At first glance it doesn't appear as if they're arguing but one look at Hyerin's face and you can see something is most definitely up.

"Hey..." You begin cautiously, looking between them.

"Hi." Hyerin strains a smile. "I expected you much earlier. How'd it go?"

She means the interview. "Good I think." You look hesitantly at Namjoon. "I ended up bumping into Jimin, actually."

You wait for judgement to pass across his face but he remains stoically blank. Thank god.

"Oh," Hyerin seems surprised. "Ok."

"What's going on? There's a weird mood in here guys." You ask after a tense moment and silence.

"Jungkook." Namjoon answers with a sigh. You tense immediately.

"What's happened?" You ask, fearing the worst.

Namjoon shakes his head. "He keeps showing up to recording sessions drunk. Or worse. I'm worried."

You're worried too.

***

Inexplicably, the first official date with Jimin is a little awkward. Which is odd, because the accidental crossing of paths a week earlier wasn't in the slightest. Maybe it's because it's officially labelled as a date now, you don't know. Either way, you know he feels it too, stretched silences drawing on a little too long between you.

At the end of the night you allow him to kiss you. It's brief but familiar. You knew you missed the physical side of a romantic relationship but kissing him showed you just how much. As you lay in bed that night, the sensation of the kiss not entirely gone yet, you have to sternly remind yourself that you're taking it slow. You're too used to giving into your desires when you're around him.

The second date is far better, both of you overcome whatever hurdle caused the uncomfortableness in the first one. Jimin treats you to an over priced but amazing meal at a top end restaurant. It feels so grown up, you're not used to dates like this. Jungkook was the first real boyfriend you'd ever had, and his dating style was a lot more casual.

You never exactly had an official first date with Jungkook. Most of the time you spent together involved getting naked together in his apartment enough times that you became a couple. Sure, you went out together but it was mostly to parties or bars. That's just who he was and you accepted that.

The third date Jimin brings you to his art studio. It's an unusual setting for a date, but you go along with it when Jimin promises there's a surprise in store. His eyes twinkle and you can't help but feel a little excitement spark in you. It's an intimate, private piece of him to share with you and it feels special. Different.

His studio is where he does his creating. It's a reasonably large white space that's littered with paint splashes, tarp that protects most of the floor, and works in progress propped up on easels. Although Jimin looks out of place now dressed smartly in slacks and a button up shirt, you can completely imagine him hard at work in here.

"Stop being so coy," You whine impatiently and Jimin chuckles as he strides determinedly across the vast space. You watch, unsure what you're allowed to touch or not touch. "I like surprises but I'm too impatient for the suspense."

"Well, you're just going to have to deal with it." He informs you, before disappearing inside a door on the opposite side of the room.

You gaze around the room as you wait for him to return, absorbing all the visible artwork. There's a lot of rustling before the sound of a crash resonates and Jimin swears.

He truly is talented. No wonder he's been so successful as of late. Your eyes land on a particular work. It's a brightly coloured butterfly, except it's done in watercolour and he's allowed the rainbow paint to drip and run down the canvas. It's beautiful and you wonder why he hasn't sold it yet. An egotistical part of you speculates that it might be inspired by you, given the affectionate nickname he has for you.

When Jimin returns he's holding a canvas against his body but the painted side is facing away from you. You wonder what on earth he's up to.

"Sit." He instructs, pointing to the chrome stool at his desk. You give him a puzzled look but comply anyway. "Close your eyes."

"Jimin - "

"Shush. Now close your eyes."

You sigh and do as he asked, clasping your hands in your lap whilst simultaneously feeling a little ridiculous. There's some shuffling and scraping of metal on the floor and even with your eyes closed you can sense that he's switched some of the lights off. "What are you up to Jiminie?" You ponder aloud.

"You'll see."

You sense some movement behind you and you can tell Jimin is close to you. His hands rest on your shoulders as he leans down to whisper, hot breath ghosting against the shell of your ear. "Okay. Open your eyes butterfly."

You're met with an image that sucks the air out of your lungs. It's you. Jimin has painted you.

Except it's not you. Not regular, every day, flesh and blood you. Painting you is bold and vibrant, he's captured you in a way you've never viewed yourself. The image is clearly based on your face, except you appear more like some mythical fairy. There's flowers woven into your flowing hair that's much longer than yours, covering your naked chest. The only colours on the canvas are red and some pink.

"Jimin..." You begin, attempting to search for the right words that convey just how overwhelmed you feel. His eyes bore into you expectantly. "This is incredible. You're so talented! It's me right?"

He laughs. "Of course its you."

"You made me look beautiful, I almost didn't recognise myself." You admit, blushing. "No one has ever done anything like this for me before. Why did you paint this?"

"You've kind of been a muse to me for a while now." He confesses.

"A muse? Me?"

He nods. "Yeah...it's kind of embarrassing. Ever since the first time we met you've always been a source of inspiration. So thank you, I guess."

"Why me?" You blurt. "I'm just so ordinary, I wish I looked like this." You gesture to the canvas.

"It's more than just how you look, you know. You're beautiful, of course, but you're strong and tough yet still somehow soft enough to be kind, even when people don't deserve it. Not all strong people have that in them y/n but you do."

"I don't know what to say." You whisper, swivelling round to face him.

"That's why I chose the colours I did. Red for the passion and fire within you, and pink because you're sensitive and compassionate. I felt that it suited you."

"I don't deserve you, Park Jimin." You tell him as you pull him in for a kiss. "You might be the sweetest boy I've ever met."

"You do deserve me."

He kisses you fiercely, cupping your face with his hands. The angle is a bit uncomfortable as you're still sitting whilst he's standing but you don't care. The rush of affection you feel for him right now is the only thing on your mind.

"I love the painting." You breathe against his lips. "Thank you."

You separate, albeit reluctantly but he locks your hands together. "This is my one creation I won't ever sell. I'm going to hang it somewhere, maybe my gallery so everyone can see it. I just needed the inspirations approval first." He smiles.

"You more than have it. I'm so lucky I have someone so talented in my life."

Standing now you lock arms around his neck and kiss him slower and deeper than before. Jimin's hand at the small of your back presses you flush against him. His hand slides lower and lower until he's giving the plump flesh of your ass a rough squeeze. It's too easy to get carried away and you badly want him to take you then and there.

He groans pulling away, biting your lip as he does so. "Taking it slow, yeah?" He asks breathlessly. "Does that mean no sex right away?"

"That's probably for the best..." You can't help but kiss him again. You remember how good it felt and it takes everything not to say fuck me against the wall. "There's time."

He presses his forehead against yours and smiles. "Whatever you want, butterfly."

***

Hyerin is at the point of her pregnancy now where her maternity leave has began and days are spent nesting and preparing for the upcoming baby. Preparations unfortunately (and sadly, for you) include her moving into Namjoon's apartment with him. This means two things. One; things are still on a good track for the couple and you're glad and two; you now need to find a roommate, short of getting a fabulously paying job within the next few days.

The painful silence on the employment front is enough to make you uneasy but you're always sure to wear a brave for your friend. She has enough to worry about, you think, and you know the decision to move out wasn't done lightly or with malice either. Hyerin even offered to help you find a new roommate but you waved her off. Read: enough to worry about.

You continue with the job search and fruitless interviews and plough forward, facing no other choice. On the last day Hyerin and you will be living together you both agree to go shopping together. She needs a few more items for the baby and you well, you need a distraction from life for a few hours.

Aimlessly you stroll around a mall that's a forty minute drive away, Hyerin's recommendation because she wanted somewhere with aircon since lately she's been uncomfortable almost all the time. Even though she complains multiple times about her size on the journey you still she thinks she looks great.

She shows you pictures of the newly decorated nursery and your heart warms. Hyerin doesn't have to verbalise it outright, you know she's extremely excited. When you enter a baby clothing store she's cooing and aw'ing over every tiny item and ends up buying more than she wanted to. She looks at you at the checkout and shrugs, as if to say oh well.

"How's Jimin...?" She asks coyly, peering at you out of the corner of her eye. You hold the door for the makeup store open for her and she waddles through. She's aware you've been seeing him, but neither of you have had much time to catch up on details.

"Good. Great." You can't help the smile that stretches your lips.

"You're happy." She informs you and you nod. "I wouldn't put you two together but now that i've seen you with him, it makes sense you know."

"I like him." You cock your head. A year ago you might agreed with her but the more time you spend with him the more you enjoy his company.

"I've never spent much time with him, but I trust your judgement. Would it be strange for the four of us to spend time together?" She hums, swatching a lipstick on the back of her palm, before frowning at the color.

Your stomach twists at the thought. "Maybe in ten years when everyone's forgotten what I've done." You joke. "Namjoon is Jungkook's bestfriend. I wouldn't want him to be uncomfortable."

"It's a shame you started like that."

"Nothing's official."

"Yet." She counters.

You offer a non-committal hum, still unsure if that is exactly the route you want to go down with Jimin. It's easy now, just to see where it goes and take things slowly.

Bored of shopping and after only buying one dress for yourself (that you weren't particularly excited about, but felt the urge to treat yourself regardless) the two of you make the mutual decision to grab a bite to eat. You're more than happy to let Hyerin choose the venue.

She scrolls lazily through her phone while you wait for the food to arrive. You have a text from Jimin sent forty five minutes earlier telling you to have a nice day and you smile at your phone, warmth radiating in your chest.

"Oh my God."

You look up at Hyerin's voice. She has a hand over her mouth and her eyes are wide as she stares at the screen. Instantly you know something is wrong. Fear immediately prickles at your skin, anticipating a problem with the baby.

"What?" Panic is at the edge of your voice. "What's wrong?"

She hesitates and it only serves to worry you further. "I hate that I am the one to show you this but..." Nothing more is said when she slides her phone across the table to you. Frowning you squint at the device, open to a webpage.

Jungkook has been arrested.

Time feels completely frozen as you scroll, reading as fast as your eyes will allow. Your heartbeat is thrumming, uncomfortable and loud in your ears as you try and absorb as much of the information as the article had written. In the middle of the page their was a tacky tabloid picture of him being roughly escorted by police, hands linked behind his back with cuffs. It's even more unfortunate that this was such a public affair.

You swear under your breath at the reason he's in this position, the glaring words taunting you. Drunk driving and disorderly behaviour.

"Are you ok y/n?" Hyerin asks cautiously.

"No." A hot tear splashes on her phone and you wipe it away quickly. "This is bad. It says he's in hospital. Right there at the bottom."

"What for?"

"Apparently he caused an accident and ended up injured. It doesn't give details."

You share a look across the table of fear mixed with worry. Silently you slide her phone back to her. You had anticipated something bad happening as a result of his drinking but not this. Jungkook was a public figure and it pained you to see him immortalised like this. It pained you to know he had taken his recklessness to a new level. It pained you that all of this was happening.

"Let's eat quickly and then go home. I'll call Namjoon and see if there's anything we can do." You friend tells you gently, knowing you well enough to know you won't be able to sit still for the rest of the day. Maybe there was nothing you could do but you could try.

***

"He asked for you."

You stare at Namjoon, astonished. Those were the last words you expected to leave his lips. Standing at your doorway, looking as worried as you felt he patiently waited for your reaction.

"He hates me." The first thought that enters your mind slips out before you can stop it. Namjoon shrugs.

"I'm just the messenger."

Everything about this feels like a bad idea. Your entire body tenses, as if on high alert. Jungkook wants to see you. He could have called you but he didn't, which makes you feel apprehensive. He wants a face to face, which to you, feels like a horrible scenario waiting to be played out. The last time you met in person did not go well.

"I'm on my way now, if you want to join me." Namjoon jingles his car keys at you for emphasis. The idea of not being entirely alone with Jungkook feels slightly more tolerable.

"Fine." You offer reluctantly. He spares you a few minutes to get ready and gather your things before the two of you head to the hospital together.

When you had phoned Jimin a few days prior to share the news it was no surprise to you that he was already aware. You wondered if he had been to visit Jungkook or had plans to, or if Jungkook even wanted that. You don't voice this aloud to Namjoon.

It's mostly quiet in the car and you stare out the window, hoping Namjoon doesn't feel uncomfortable. There's no tension between you anymore but you're not exactly best buds forever. He puts the radio on and you're thankful it eases the silence.

"What do you think about rehab?" You ask, still looking out the window. "For 'Kook. Do you think he needs it?" You clarify.

"I would love it if he went." Namjoon sighs, out of the corner of your eye he grips the wheel a little tighter. "Maybe this will be a wake-up call for him."

Hyerin had told you that Namjoon had been completely sober since they had agreed to try and be together for the sake of their unborn child. It had surprised you to an extent but Namjoon had never been as bad as Jungkook, never appeared as if anything was a problem (not infront of you anyway) and apparently he had no issue maintaining a sober life these days. Jungkook always did do everything better than everyone else.

Anticipation brings a slight tremble to your body as you trail behind Namjoon on your way to Jungkook's hospital suite. He agrees to go in first to tell Jungkook you're here. Your knee shakes when you sit on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs outside the room.

Every second that passes as you wait feels achingly slow. The low voices of the two men rumble through the thin wall but you can't make out exactly what is being said. You're not sure if you want to. Maybe you could run, it's not too late.

The door clicks open and Namjoon gestures for you to go inside. He doesn't follow.

Jungkook lies in a white bed in the center of the room, propped up on a few large soft pillows. The first thing you think when your eyes land on him is that he doesn't look good. He's thinner and bruised from the accident. "Hi." You whisper for some reason. The room feels too quiet.

"Hey, come sit." He croaks hoarsely, gesturing to a chair next to the bed. His eyes follow you as you cross the room and you feel awkward.

You don't know where to start. "How are you?" It feels redundant but it's the best you've got.

"Battered n' bruised." He smiles but it's clearly forced. "Thanks for coming."

"I was surprised you asked for me. But I'm glad you're okay. Pictures of your car were online. It looked wrecked."

He shrugs. "It's worse than it looks. Modern cars are actually pretty safe. Just a few broken ribs but I'm golden."

Jungkook rubs tiredly at his face, stifling a yawn. There's a new tattoo on his hand. You wonder if there's more. "Don't take this the wrong way but I thought you would be in jail."

"I was injured so they took me here. I have a trial in a few weeks. Probably will just get a DUI." He explains. "I'm sorry we had to meet like this but I've wanted to for a long time. Thought you'd take pity on me and visit."

"It's not pity that brings me here. " You say quietly. He's staring at you so intently you can't meet his gaze for much longer and opt to stare at your lap. "I care."

Jungkook reaches for your hand. Confused, you go to take it but stop for a moment. There's undeniable injection sites in between the blue black ink of his tattoos. He's been shooting up. What you don't know exactly but you know taking anything intravenously means things are bad. You take his hand, albeit shakily. You say nothing about what you noticed.

"I'm in trouble baby." He says. You've never heard him sound so vulnerable before. Your heart positively aches in your chest. "I'm in so much trouble."

"What's going on with you Kook?" You press, squeezing his hand.

"I think I'm out of control." To your complete and utter despair he blinks away a few tears. "I could have killed someone just because I wanted to get fucked up."

"You've always liked to get drunk Kookie..." You say joylessly.

"I don't know when it went from getting drunk to have fun and this. It's not fun anymore."

"It was so stupid of you. So stupid." You sigh. "You are better than that."

"I want to be."

He's gripping your hand so tightly, so desperately you die a little inside. He's broken. "You can get help, there's professionals who are trained to help people exactly like you. All you need to do is take it."

"I want to." He whispers.

"Do it." You are almost begging. "Just. Do. It."

"I'll get Hoseok to look into it for me. Take some time off and sort my head out." He offers you another smile but it's somber. You hope more than anything his words are genuine. Not much else is said between you, other than you offering whatever support and reinforcement you can give.

You hold his hand until you leave, kissing him on the forehead before you go.

***

Jimin strokes your hair absent-mindedly as you lay together in his bed. Your head rests on his chest as you scroll through your phone whilst he watches television. It's so sickeningly domestic, it surprises you how much you enjoy it. You find yourself googling rehab centre's in the area for Jungkook. It's not much but you want to help.

Something Jimin's watching makes him laugh and you peer up at him. "I love this show." He smiles when he notices you looking at him. "You should watch it with me."

"Yeah, in a minute." You mumble, going back to your device. You're composing a few links to send to Hoseok, even though as Jungkook's manager he is fully capable of doing it himself you just want to ensure Jungkook has the opportunity to consider all the options possible.

"What are you doing?" He asks. "It must be important to have captured your attention like this. Job searching?"

"No. I'm looking at rehab places for Jungkook."

"Oh." Jimin replies quietly. He understands why when you explain to him that you went to visit Jungkook. There's an arduous history that comes along with dating you, he knows that. In an ideal world, there wouldn't be but you think he likes you enough to put up with it. You hope. "That's nice of you."

"It's the least I can do. I'm giving Hoseok a list and then I'm all yours, babe. Hold on."

With a heavy sigh you put your phone on his nightstand and snuggle into him a little more. You hook one of your legs around his waist, as if you can't be close enough to him. His hand grips your thigh and holds it there. "Do you want to stay tonight?" He hums. Since you've rekindled things you've yet to actually spend the night together. Tonight you don't want to be alone.

"Please." You reply.

Sensing you might need it, Jimin swoops in for a kiss. Having not had sex yet every time you kiss lately it seems to get real dirty real fast. Neither of you show much self restriction now. It's almost too easy to slide over so you're lying on top of him, knees pressed into the mattress either side of his narrow hips. His hands grip your ass outside of your clothes, encouraging you to grind against him. It doesn't take him long to get hard from this.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder if you're the last girl he's been intimate with. A possessive part of you hopes so but the thought goes as quickly as it comes.

Jimin has been so patient with you, so it's your turn to take the lead and let him know you're ready now. Breaking away from his lips you sit up, crossing your arms across your torso, pulling your shirt up and over you head. He watches you, dreamy and glassy-eyed as if he can't quite believe what's happening.

"You sure?" He breathes, eyes drinking in your newly exposed chest.

"Positive."

Resuming the kiss, his hands explore your body, feeling every inch of you. He quickly snaps your bra off and you help him slide it down your arms. You whine when his hands cup your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples. You're extra sensitive there anyway but going a long time without being touched only heightens the sensations. Jimin keens at your reaction and grins against your lips.

"Mm, you like this." He whispers, tweaking one of the hardened buds. You only moan your agreement, rutting against him. Feeling how hard he is against you only makes your stomach lurch with arousal.

"Touch me Jimin, do anything you want. I've missed this." You tell him desperately, already feeling a little light headed.

"Fuck," He says wet mouth against your neck as his hands slide underneath the back of your leggings. "Take these off."

You roll on to your back and quickly wiggle the clothing down your hips while Jimin whips his own shirt off. He's on you in an instant, using his hips to push your legs apart. You're barely focusing on his sloppy kisses over your chest because you're too busy trying to get his pants off. He laughs at your failed attempt and his breath tickles.

"Get naked." You demand. "We've waited long enough."

The belt he's wearing slides through the loops on his pants and hits the floor with a thud. Briefly he stands to kick off his jeans and you can't help but ogle the outline of his hardness through the tight grey boxers slung low on his hips. Naked skin on skin makes you feel almost drunk when he's back in your arms. His body is warm and familiar and god, so soft you melt into him easily.

You're hot all over from his touch. His hands consume your body as if it's the first time he's every touched you and wants to explore everywhere.

The time for teasing can wait. You're already gripping his impossibly hard length underneath the material of his underwear, slowly stroking him up and down. He hisses at the contact.

"Do I need a condom?" Somehow there's still a rational part of his brain functioning right now, despite the handjob. Truth be told, you'd forgot that little detail.

"No, tested right after Jungkook."

"I'm still clean." Jimin assures you.

"Good."

He slides down the bed, ungracefully struggling out of his underwear. You bite back a laugh. He's adorable. "Can I eat you out first?" He pleads, already hovering dangerously close to your cunt. You agree eagerly. His beautiful mouth was always fantastic between your thighs.

Jimin's tongue drags through your wet lower lips from top to bottom and you shudder involuntarily. Lately you've been so busy you don't even remember the last time you'd masturbated so his touch is nearly overwhelming. It takes a few cursory experimental licks before he finds his rhythm again. You fist is hair keeping his head firmly in place so you can roll your hips against his face.

He pulls away so quickly you think somethings wrong. "Jimin - "

" - I need to be inside you, now. The friction of my cock against the bedsheets was already getting too much." He laughs, crawling over you. His cock slides against your dripping, now aching, pussy and you groan. "I haven't had sex since you." He whispers, face hovering over yours.

Your hands grip his shoulders while he glides into you. The stretch is a little much at first and he stills for a minute, watching your face for any reactions after seeing you wince. "Okay?" He murmurs, nosing your cheek and peppering a few kisses across your skin.

"Okay." You repeat. "Fuck me." You whisper running a thumb over his plush lip. You can't help but gaze at his face, eyes blown out. He's gorgeous in such a delicate yet sexy way. "Please."

He slowly begins to move his hips, in and out, in and out, in and out and your eyes flutter shut with pleasure. All you were thinking about was how perfect he feels. Your legs fall open a little wider and your back arches against the bed. "Yes, Jimin - right there - god."

His breath is hot against your skin from exertion. He feels so good, filling you up like this. The more he works his hips the better the stretch is. You claw at his ass, encouraging him to go harder.

"Oh, shit, shitshitshit." He moans loudly, driving into you forcefully. He stops for a moment and you look at him, expecting him to rearrange your position or maybe he wants something different. His eyes are tightly screwed shut and his head hangs, as if he's in pain.

"...Jimin?"

"I'm sorry."

You're lost. What is he sorry for? Then it dawns on you.

"Did you just - "

"Yeah."

He's embarrassed and he avoids your gaze. This has never happened to you before, you've heard the stories of guys coming too quickly but thankfully had never experienced it. Until now. You try not to look too upset at the loss of an orgasm tonight because you can already see how annoyed with himself Jimin is. "I'm sorry, it's been a while and you felt so good...and yeah. Fuck this is embarrassing."

His now softening cock slips out of you and you can feel the tell tale sign of his release being to leak out. "Hey," You pull him down to you, and reassuringly kiss him. These things happen. You hadn't expected to last long either. "It's okay. Don't worry about it, next time will be better."

"I wanted our next first time to be unbelievable." He shakes his head, burying it into the crook of your neck with a frustrated groan. "Let me at least make it up to you now."

He props himself up on his left elbow as his right hand makes it's way down your body, over your bellybutton and straight to your neglected center. Languidly circling your clit with the pads of his forefinger and index you sigh in pleasure. "Do you want my mouth, butterfly?" He licks your neck up to your jaw, kissing the side of your parted mouth.

"I've got your cum in me." You huff, feeling a little self conscious and well, gross. You can't imagine that will be an enjoyable experience for him.

"I don't care." He's already moving down your body before you can protest further. "Want to feel you cum on my face."

"Jimin." You whine, trying to close your legs.

"Shit, ok. Hold on." He tells you, jumping up from the bed and disappearing into the adjoining bathroom in all his naked glory. Puzzled, you can only watch and anticipate his next move. He returns with a washcloth and gently cleans you up.

"You are so freakin' cute sometimes." You grin, unable to quite comprehend his thoughtfulness. Your heart clenches. No guy has ever done anything like this before for you. Although it's not a major display of affection, or even a big deal really, the simple gesture reads; I want to take care of you.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." He shrugs. When he's done he disposes of the cloth and before he can resume eating you out you grab at him, crashing your lips to his.

"I like you so much." You mumble against him.

"I like you too."

Jimin kisses you slowly for a few moments more, hands wandering down your ribs before gripping the flesh of your thighs. He spreads them once more, before shifting so he's in a more advantageous position. "Can I? Now?" He breathes. You nod.

When he licks into you, your eyes flutter shut and you allow yourself to just enjoy it. His thumbs rub circles on the soft flesh of your inner thighs. He keeps his eyes trained on you, reading your body language. "Ji-min," You breathe. "Want your fingers. Fuck me with them."

The bed creaks as he shifts to comply with your request. Two fingers slip inside you as you clench down, Jimin moans against your clit. Your hips start moving of their own according, rocking against his mouth. When you cum it's so intense you almost sit up completely as your muscles contract. His hands anchor you down.

"Oh my god." You exhale, panting.

"I'm hard again." He laughs. "So sexy." He murmurs, kissing all over the inside of your thighs.

"You wanna go again?"

"If you do."

When Jimin fucks you again he's spooning you from behind, a hand curled underneath your thigh to hold you open for him. He peers down and watches his cock disappear inside of you, moaning at how wet you are. This feels like heaven to you. You clutch his free hand and lock your fingers together.

He cums with a loud groan against the back of your neck. Sweet praises are whispered in your ear as he holds you tightly to him. "You're my favourite, butterfly."

You tenderly look at him over your shoulder. "You're my favourite too."

***

Spending time with Jimin makes you feel like you're floating with pure, unwavering happiness whenever you leave him. He's so sweet and generous - you feel safe with him. Jungkook might have destroyed your ability to trust easily but Jimin is unknowingly building it back up for you. It might be because it's not what he says, it's what he does, all to let you know he cares.

When you leave his place the next morning, full of the breakfast he's made you (with coffee; he remembers how you like it - milk and no sugar), you catch yourself smiling unconsciously several times. You'd feel ridiculous if you weren't so happy.

There's a few moments where you feel guilty for being so elated, worrying about Jungkook. You make a mental note to contact Hoseok in a few days to check in. Hopefully Jungkook is in rehab by then, or at the very minimum taking serious steps towards it.

Home feels empty without Hyerin now. You need to find a roommate, and soon, but the idea of replacing her isn't one you're ecstatic about. She suggested her friend Taehyung, the person you'd met once when he was roped into helping you move. He might be your only hope at this point.

Your phone chimes as you settle into you room. When Namjoon's name appears on your screen it brings a frown to your face, he texts you so infrequently it can only be bad news. Your heart begins to race as you swipe the message open.

from: namjoon jungkook's disappeared from the hospital. He was supposed to be discharged today and no one can reach him. I know you care about him still so i thought you'd want to know. Let me know if he calls you ok?

You swear loudly as you re-read the message. If you know Jungkook as well as you think you do him leaving the hospital without telling anyone was an escape. You appreciate Namjoon reaching out but you almost wish you didn't know that information. Jungkook is in trouble and there's nothing you can do.

MASTERLIST

#jimin fanfiction #bts jimin fanfic #jimin ff #jimin smut #jimin angst #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts ff

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cosmicpines · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, and happy @codesecretsanta! I’ve lurked for enough years and finally found the courage to participate.

This is for @cidnets. They asked for something with the whole gang, so I wrote about some early gang friendship as they try and figure out how to navigate their new friend group.

Enjoy! :)

Jeremie Belpois didn’t have any friends before an evil AI possessed a vending machine and nearly electrocuted him to death a month ago, and he sure wished he remembered how that fact changed.

As far as he could remember, he went to get a drink from that vending machine, the same he did whenever he was feeling particularly down and decided to “treat” himself (quality of the hot chocolate questionable as it was), when suddenly there were three people talking to him like they knew each other, dragging him away to his room to tell him about an adventure he could barely believe happened. It took until he saw files on the supercomputer that weren’t there the day before, images of these apparent friends of his side by side with Aelita, to believe they weren’t all pulling an elaborate prank on him.

That gap in his memory itched at him in moments like these, when, between the mission shot calls and terror-filled calls to the person on the scene (Ulrich, this time, helping evacuate students from a water system that was flooding the school), there was the dreaded mission banter.

“Woah, Jeremie, I think we see why there’s a number mismatch,” Yumi’s voice reverberated through his headset, as the three dots on his map that indicated his friends (the word still felt wrong) rounded a bend to what looked like on his screen to be one Blok, but that the sensors identified as 7.

Odd laughed. “Oh man! Einstein, it’s like a Jenga tower!”

Yumi’s snicker came in response, confirming that this was a joke he wasn’t getting and Odd just not being dumb.

“Sorry?” Jeremie said, pulling up a visual on his screen, seeing all 7 Bloks stacked on top of each other, Yumi’s fan barely missing the bottom one, “It’s like a what now?”

“Jenga! You know, Jenga?” Odd repeated in what many may consider the least helpful clarification possible.

“Is that… a movie?”

“No! What? How have you never played Jenga, Einstein? Haven’t you been to a game night or anything?”

Jeremie bit his tongue, weighing responses, the gap in his memory weighing on him. He often wondered, in times like this, where he failed to get jokes and carry on banter, what the hell the Jeremie of that timeline had done to trick the three of them (four, if you counted Aelita, who was a different mystery in of itself) into thinking they liked him in the first place. He wondered what that Jeremie would say in response to this, what he would do to make all of them laugh and like him.

“I have more important things to do than play whatever Jenga is. Like babysitting a supercomputer.”

“Well, we have to fix that! Yumi, do you have a copy?”

Of course, logically, he knew that the “other Jeremie” was really just him; that “he” would be struggling with this just as much.

"A copy of Jenga?” Yumi grunted as a laser hit her, (30 lifepoints left, should he say something? Should he wait for her to finish talking? What’s the protocol here?) “Maybe? My dad doesn’t have the patience for that kind of game. Luckily…” She tossed a fan with a cry, destroying one of the bloks on the bottom of the stack, sending the rest tumbling down. “I don’t either.”

“Oh, great job, Yumi!” Aelita’s grin was obvious, even though just her voice. She started making her way to the tower as Jeremie still tried to come up with something to say, thoughts spiraling as Odd and Yumi kept talking and he kept saying nothing, sitting there with nothing. There was a part of him that wondered if he was just a convenient means to an end to them. Someone to press the buttons and let them play superhero and talk to their much cooler digital friend.

“How about your room, Einstein? That way, Aelita can join us too!”

Crap. That was directed at him.

“My room? For what?”

“Earth to Einstein!” He cringed at Odd’s sudden increase in volume, “Game night! We’re going to teach you Jenga and every other game you’ve missed out on!”

He blinked, mind going blank again, for very different reasons. His fingers froze momentarily over the keys, before the defensiveness he had built up over the years fell out of his mouth. “Sure, Odd. As long as you don’t make another mess like last time.”

“Hey! That wasn’t my fault!”

“Uh huh,” he said, as the supercomputer pinged in response to the tower being deactivated. He started typing, hesitated, then reached in his bag for where he kept his notes. Almost had the return procedure memorized, but there was that step he always forgot. He’d hoped that he’d get Aelita to Earth before he’d need to memorize it, but materialization was harder than he thought.

As he typed, his mind conjured images of a game night – of friends on his floor, of laughter and fun. Maybe it was possible. Or maybe he was getting his hopes up again. Maybe Odd just wanted to use his room for a game night so they could hang out with Aelita; nothing to do with him.

(Of course, why, then, would it be at his lack of knowledge about Jenga to prompt it?)

(…this was hard.)

“Return to the past now.”

Odd Della Robbia wasn’t going to let this friend group fail.

Despite coming to Kadic in the middle of the semester (it wasn’t his fault his geometry teacher flunked him out of his last school, yeesh), he hadn’t been particularly worried about making new friends. People were naturally drawn to his charms; always had been, always would be. What could he say? He was great! I mean, sure, a lot of those old friends didn’t answer his calls after he had been kicked out of school and, yeah, one argument broke a lot of those friendships, but that didn’t matter. He had never been lonely before, and Kadic was going to be no different. And one day here had proven him right!

But these friends… they were different. Normally, Odd found himself with people who were similar to him – loud, excited, larger than life, up for anything – but his first day shoved him elsewhere. (Not that anyone would call his first day not loud, exciting, and larger than life). And maybe that wouldn’t have been a problem, except these friends didn’t seem to know how to be friends. Like, Jeremie looked surprised every time he and Ulrich sat next to him for dinner (at what was he was determined to become their table). It took Yumi at least a week to start hanging with them around campus after classes instead of going home. And his roommate… well, he was just a piece of work.

But there was something about these guys that was special. He was determined to make these friends a group anyone would envy. And the first thing to do to make that happen was easy: snacks and games.

“I still don’t get why you’re so insistent on this,” Ulrich said as they walked back to Kadic from town late that Friday night, arms laden with the most unhealthy things they could afford on a student’s budget.

“Oh, come on, Ulrich! Aelita and Jeremie both have never been to one! It’s our duty as their friends to enrich them.”

Ulrich rolled his eyes, shifting the bags in his arms. “Oh yeah, the joyous splendor of game nights is just what Jeremie needs to get out of his shell.”

“Well, why not? Besides, Yumi said she’s sneaking back on campus to join us, too. It’ll be great!”

“If you say so,” Ulrich shrugged, “I don’t get the feeling that he’s too jazzed you invited yourself into his room all night.”

Odd brushed him off. “It’ll be fine Ulrich, trust me.”

He only grunted in response, clearly not convinced. Odd frowned, clicking his tongue. “Aren’t you excited, Ulrich?”

“No.”

“What? Not even a little?”

“I’m excited to destroy this bag of Doritos and then go back into my room to read a book.”

“Boring!”

Ulrich grunted again, and silence fell on the two roommates as they entered the building. Odd just didn’t get this guy. What could convince him to just have a little fun with his friends?

“Not even with Yumi there?”

It was a hunch he had for at least a week, and possibly a low blow to bring it up like this, but Ulrich’s reaction made it all worth it: he almost dropped his bag, his face turned red, and he pointedly stared at the opposite wall, as if doing so would mean Odd couldn’t see him. Bingo.

Ulrich cleared his throat after a moment. “I don’t know why that would make a difference.”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t, so knock it off.”

“Knock what –,”

“Odd.” He growled, as they climbed the stairs to the boy’s floor, “Knock it off.”

“Okay, okay!” Odd grinned, “But I’m just saying, I’m happy to see someone melt that icy heart of yours. If you ever want any pointers on how to woo her, I’d be more than happy to –,”

“Alright, that’s it.” Ulrich muttered, turning around and heading back towards their room.

Odd felt his stomach drop as his roommate retreated. “Hey – hey Ulrich! Oh, come on! Don’t be upset, it was just a joke!” He grabbed his shoulder, and Ulrich turned around and looked at him.

Odd was used to friendships falling apart, was used to rejection and anger. Hell, even though he had only come to Kadic a month ago, he had already gotten slapped by a girl who was mad at him for brushing off their study date (his own fault, he knew, but he had just gotten a new game for his Gameboy Advance and completely forgot! Why couldn’t she understand that?!). So he knew what to expect from Ulrich here – he just hoped it wouldn’t be a friendship-ending argument.

But what he saw in Ulrich’s face wasn’t the pure anger he had grown toe expect; it was hurt. Ulrich was glaring at him, but his eyes were red, and he was blinking rapidly – staving off tears, Odd realized with a jolt.

“Ulrich, I…”

What could he say? What had he done wrong? Odd was just teasing him! It wasn’t anything for him to get so upset about! His stomach was churning as he looked at his roommate, desperate to think of what to say to brush this all off, get him back into Jeremie’s room for game night, and get him back in his good books.

Only… was Odd even in Ulrich’s good books? Was this friendship based on nothing but a housing mistake to drop Odd into Ulrich’s room and a supercomputer to drop them in the same double life? If they didn’t have that, would they even consider each other friends? Odd didn’t know. He bit his tongue as words failed to come to his mouth, and Ulrich turned away. And that possibly would have been the end of the night entirely, if it wasn’t for the muffled yelling that suddenly came from Jeremie’s room.

Newly forged instinct sprung to life in Odd, and he dashed down the hall to where Einstein must have been in danger – a possessed heating system! Flashes of lights that blind you! – Ulrich was at his side, too, and Odd felt something between dread and relief. Odd reached for the doorknob, when –

“I just don’t know what I’m doing, Aelita! I should be happy they’re hanging out with me, but –,”

Odd’s eyes widened, another pit forming in his stomach. He pressed his ear to the door, and barely caught Aelita’s reply.

“…something that usually stresses people out?”

“No! No, it’s just me being stupid and awful at this!”

“Awful at what?”

“Friends! Aelita, I haven’t had friends before this! And I’m trying so hard to make it work with these but I don’t – I don’t know if they really like me at all. I seriously…”

Oh, this was a conversation they really shouldn’t be listening into.

Odd nudged Ulrich, who was staring at the door in a sort of blind panic, pushing him back down the hallway.

“What are you – “

“Shh!”

Odd’s mind was racing at Jeremie’s words. How would they not like him? He glanced back at Ulrich, who was staring at Jeremie’s door, but whose eyes drifted down to his. Ulrich’s eyes softened a bit, and he nodded, heading back towards their room. Odd’s heart sank, until he saw Ulrich picking up the bags of groceries.

Odd grinned, then raised his voice, “Oh man, Ulrich! I cannot believe how late we are!”

Ulrich stared back at him for a second, and then a hint of a smile formed on his lips. “Oh, Odd, I know, I know! But it was your fault for having to go back for Pringles.”

“What can I say? I have great taste! Besides, I know the plain ones are Jeremie’s favorite!”

“Uh – yeah! We… sure want to make sure we have that!”

Odd knocked on Jeremie’s door, loudly. “Jeremie! We’re here!”

His heart pounded as he heard a shuffling inside, and then, blessedly, the door opened. Jeremie stared at them for a second, something like distracted concern in his eyes, and then he gestured in, to where Odd saw he had put some blankets on the floor and cleared space off his normally disastrous desk. Aelita waved from the computer screen.

“Make yourself at home.” Jeremie said, shutting the door behind them.

“Will do, Einstein!” Odd breathed a sigh of relief as he unloaded his snacks onto the desk.

It was rough going. But he was going to make it work.

Aelita was finding humans more and more confusing as each day passed.

Not ten minutes ago, Jeremie was telling her how much he was scared of this game night happening. He had even started yelling, which was something she’d only seen the boy do once before, when he was sharing how scared he was about their fight agains XANA.

It was something that had sat with her since they had made that promise the day they had met – they were all doing this for her, and it wasn’t getting any safer. They swore that, one day, she would be sitting in this room with them, instead of sitting in a quiet, empty tower, looking through a window into a world she found as strange as they found hers.

Yumi had arrived five minutes ago, arms laden with games. “I stole these out of our house,” she had said, dropping them onto the bed and sitting down, “Sorry we don’t have a huge selection. Luckily, we did have Jenga afterall.”

Odd had jumped up and wrapped his arms around her – a hug, Aelita remembered, from one of the movies she and Jeremie had watched – and Yumi had looked confused as he retreated, then had helped him begin setting up the game.

Jenga, it turned out, was a rather simple game: stack the blocks in a tower, take out the pieces and place them on top, and try and keep it from falling over. She watched her friends take their moves in turn, and was fascinated by the dynamic in the room. Aelita had never seen them all interacting in a context outside of battle, and the lack of harmony was unexpected.

Yumi made her moves quickly and decisively, never hesitating for more than a second once her turn came around. She had knocked it over more than once like this, but didn’t seem to mind too much, and was quick to set it up again to keep going. She made loud noises after every round, and often poked fun at the others for their moves, which Jeremie and Ulrich didn’t seem to like. Yumi stopped this, after a while, but still tried to get everyone to speak with her.

Jeremie, meanwhile, was slow, eyes sweeping over the whole tower before choosing his move. When Yumi asked him what was taking so long, Jeremie had looked confused, before saying, “I’m evaluating my options!” That seemed logical to Aelita, but Odd and Yumi both laughed, like Jeremie had made a joke – or, as Jeremie had confided in her once, they were mocking him for saying the wrong thing. The way they continued smiling at him, though, didn’t indicate that.

If being slow was something to laugh at, though, she wondered why Odd didn’t do the same with Ulrich, who took equally long turns in silence. Unlike Jeremie, who looked around the tower contemplatively, Ulrich kept bringing his hand to the tower, then pulling it back, over and over again, until he finally picked a move and performed it just as slowly. When the tower didn’t fall, he would breathe a sigh of relief. When it did, he would look furious with himself.

Odd couldn’t be more different than Ulrich, as, once he chose which to take – he pressed his finger against a few before choosing, he yanked it out deftly. The first time he had done this, Ulrich had muttered something about cheating, but Odd had shot back that Ulrich should read the rules sometime. Then, after placing the block back on top, he had smiled at his friend, but when Ulrich didn’t reciprocate, Odd’s smile slipped away.

That wasn’t ordinary, Aelita had thought at the time, and, after Ulrich toppled the tower one more time and yelled out in anger and Yumi suggested moving onto another game, she could see that strange emotion again in Odd’s face – hesitation and fear. It was something she saw on Jeremie often, but never on Odd. She would have to remember to ask Jeremie about it afterwards.

“How about Monopoly?” Yumi asked, holding up another box.

Odd groaned. “That game takes forever and I’m horrible at it.”

“Okay,” Yumi responded, putting it back down. “Sorry?”

“Sorry for what?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

Jeremie and Ulrich were both sitting silently on the ground as Odd and Yumi debated which game was next. Ulrich was cross legged, staring at his napkin covered in snacks – Doritos, Cheetos, and Pringles, Aelita remembered, from squinting at the packaging to her right and looking it up online. She read how the flavors differed and tried to imagine it herself; that was very hard, considering she didn’t even have taste buds. Her gaze drifted over to Jeremie, and she was momentarily startled, seeing him looking at her. Aelita smiled at him, and he smiled back. She glanced over at Odd and Yumi bickering over games, and then back at him, silently asking why he didn’t help. He glanced at his friends and shrugged, going back to picking at his snacks.

This wasn’t the way Jeremie had explained a game night to her. This wasn’t the “fun” that she had expected to see.If she was there, she would drag him over to the board games and help him pick one. She would be the one to ask him, quietly, in case it was something that embarrassed him for some reason, which games he liked, and which he didn’t. She would laugh at Odd’s jokes and make some herself. She would try the snacks and have favorites and ones she hated. She would be able to have her own strategy for playing Jenga, and she would knock that tower down and learn to do it better.

But she couldn’t. She was here, in an entirely different world, barely able to interact with them at all. Her voice didn’t come from her mouth, but from tinny speakers that echoed through the room; a quiet conversation wasn’t possible when she was being broadcasted to everyone. She watched as Jeremie quietly got another drink for Ulrich and Ulrich smiled back at him; somethings she couldn’t be part of. All she could do was loudly proclaim “hello! I’m here too!” before she was forgotten again in the excitement of another game she couldn’t touch, couldn’t join in, couldn’t be there for.

And at what cost, would it be, to bring her there? What danger to the world must be done to let her join them, to let her touch the objects that Yumi was handing out?

“You know the rules for Uno, right?”

No! She didn’t! She had no idea what Uno was, or why it was played, or what some of them were finding fun and what some of them were stressed about! She had no idea how or why humans did this – Jeremie said nebulously “it was fun,” but Ulrich looked miserable, Odd looked scared, Yumi looked distant – she wanted, wanted, wanted to be there, wanted to be part of it… But how much was she worth? How much did they have to do for her?

So she sat silently and watched, only the briefest eye contact with Jeremie reminding her that they knew she was there at all.

Yumi Ishiyama didn’t think this game night was working.

She was leaning against Jeremie’s desk, getting herself another Coke, and watching as the boys played for second place in an Uno match after she had gotten out. Odd laughed as Ulrich played a draw two card on Jeremie, whose hand was already at least a quarter of the deck, but shut up as Jeremie dropped three more on top.

“Draw eight, Odd.”

A faint grin was on Jeremie’s face as Odd scowled. “I never should have let you guys convince me to use stacking rules!”

“You were the one who suggested it,” Ulrich muttered, sorting his own hand.

Yumi smiled, sipping her drink, thankful for a moment of unity in the room. The boys had been awkward all night; Jenga was a nightmare that she was glad was over. It wasn’t like she was doing much better – her competitive instincts from playing with her family didn’t work well with Jeremie, who didn’t know the rules, or with Ulrich, who was in what she was quickly finding to be a usual bad mood. Odd didn’t seem to mind, but she always had a hard time understanding Odd at all; his easy grins and fast jokes couldn’t always be genuine, could they? How could someone be that happy all the time?

But Odd was grating on the other two just as much as she was; his jokes falling on just her laughter, becoming more and more tired as the other two didn’t respond. It was a nightmare, trying to carry the conversation like this, and it was clearer now that she had stepped out of the game. Ulrich and Jeremie just played the game, an ocasssional single quip, and Odd tried his best to fill the room with chatter that fell on deaf ears, his persistant smile fixed and tired. This whole thing was a mistake. None of them were having a good time, and none of them wanted to be there.

What is wrong with us? Yumi thought, unconsciously crushing her now empty cup in her hand. Why couldn’t they just have fun, the way friends were supposed to? Yumi hadn’t had any friends before she and Ulrich were attacked by that electricity ball and her life got flipped upside down, and now she wasn’t even sure if she was doing it right. There were times that they got it, that they laughed and hung out, but there were times like this, too, where everything was just off.

She sighed, turning to throw out her cup, thinking about making an excuse about wanting to get home before Jim noticed her, when she suddenly remembered that they weren’t the only ones in the room. Aelita’s face was on the screen, watching the boys play Uno. She suddenly felt bad about not speaking to her most of the night.

“Hey Aelita, how are you doing?”

Aelita turned to her, smiling brightly. “Oh, just fine, Yumi. Humanity has created so many interesting ways to keep itself occupied in its leisure, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Yumi’s heart melted with Aelita’s enthusiasm for something so simple, “Are you understanding the rules?”

“Oh yes, I have the Google to thank for that.” Aelita motioned to something in front of her that Yumi couldn’t see. A smile twitched at the corners of Yumi’s mouth at Aelita’s awkward phrasing. She found herself briefly forgetting her desire to book it out of there as Aelita continued. “I’m learning a lot! Not just on the games, but on ‘fun’ too.”

“On fun? What do you mean by that?”

“I didn’t really understand quite how it worked before now; I don’t have a lot of time for ‘fun’ on Lyoko. It’s not like I can go play Uno or Jenga with XANA.” She looked wistful for a moment, then smiled again. “But I can see the way that you guys are doing it, and it’s very interesting. It seems like ‘fun’ is something you have to learn to do as much as ‘work’ is.”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“Well,” Aelita hesitated for a moment, “I found that whenever I need to learn something new, it takes me a bit to get it right, you know? And you guys are doing that with this – you were yelling before, but not now. Odd stopped bothering Ulrich. Jeremie is speaking more and more.”

Yumi was crushing her cup again, and noticed the lack of the sound of cards in the room meant the others had stopped playing Uno and were listening in on the conversation.

“From what Jeremie tells me,” Aelita continued, “Between your schoolwork and fighting XANA, you don’t get a lot of chances to do ‘fun.’ I’m glad you found a way to do it today, and that you’re all practicing it together.”

Practicing having fun.

It was a very strange way to put it, Yumi thought, her eyes sweeping over the room, as they all shared glances with each other, but not something entirely wrong. How many times did she see any of them with people who weren’t each other?

Yumi looked back at their digital friend, whose animated face was impassive, then grew more confused as she didn’t respond. She stole another glance at the rest of the room and felt her insides unclench. Her face twitched, and laughter started spilling out of her mouth.

None of them knew what they were doing. None of them – not a single one of them – knew how to do this right. This was ridiculous; they were all so stressed about playing Uno.

Maybe they did need the practice at being friends.

Her laughter subsided after a moment, and, although it wasn’t the cathartic group laugh that she was hoping for, the atmosphere in the room felt lighter than it had a moment ago. Yumi tossed her now destroyed cup the trash, reinvigorated to figure out how to salvage a night for them. All of them.

“Hey, Aelita. Why don’t you join us, this round?”

“Huh? I can’t –”

“No, you totally can,” Yumi grinned at her, “We can find a way to hold some cards up for you, and we can just play them for you.”

“Yeah!” Odd perked up as he shuffled everyone’s cards back into the deck, “That’s a great idea, Yumi! I can help her!”

And they did. Everyone seemed to be trying a little harder at keeping the mood going. It was sloppy. They still stumbled over words, still had awkward moments between rounds. But the silence was shrinking. Yumi’s competitive shouts were responded to – hesitantly at first, then more excitedly. More people laughed at Odd’s jokes, and Jeremie even made some himself.

“Can you put down my fourth card?” Aelita asked, smiling innocently.

“Sure I – SKIP? SKIP?! YOU’RE SKIPPING ME?” Odd gasped, his hand filled with cards.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you not want me to try and win?”

They laughed – all of them, finally. She wasn’t sure what had flipped the switch in the room; maybe they all came to the same conclusion she did, maybe they all just wanted to try and prove to Aelita that they did know what they were doing. Either way, the games of Uno pressed on into the night.

“Draw two, Yumi.” Odd dropped a card, grinning.

“So sorry, but I think that Ulrich will be drawing four.”

“Tough, Aelita’s drawing six.”

“If you play my third card, you will find it’s Jeremie drawing ten.”

“…Okay, I officially withdraw my support of stacking rules.”

“What, just because you’re losing?” Yumi teased him, and Jeremie – miracle of miracles – actually stuck his tongue out at her and grinned as he drew his cards.

Maybe they would figure this out, eventually.

Ulrich Stern was exhausted.

He didn’t really know what he was signing up for when he agreed to go to the game night, but whatever that was certainly wasn’t it. It had started out as horribly as he expected, but then Yumi somehow completely turned it around. Hell, the three hour-long rounds of Uno (stacking rules were a mistake, it turned out) they played with Aelita were actually, dare he say it, fun, and he left the room around two feeling a lot less crummy than he had when he walked in. He even agreed to Jeremie’s suggestion that they do it again next week, returning the exhausted smile Jeremie offered him.

“I’m going to sneak home,” Yumi said, as they headed down the hallway. “I’m not sure who I’m more scared about finding me; Jim or my parents.”

“Do you want me to scout ahead?” Ulrich asked immediately, hoping he didn’t sound too eager, “I’d get in a lot less trouble with Jim than you would.”

“Yeah, that would be great! Thanks.”

Her smile made his insides melt, and Ulrich scampered away before Odd could make fun of him for it again. It wasn’t his fault that Yumi made him happy. The whole night she was fighting to make sure they were all having a good time, and it was so nice to feel like someone cared about him. It was just a pain that he was so bad at letting her, or any of the others, know that.

A dash down the hall, a surreptitious glance right and left, down the stairs, and it was all clear. He waved Yumi over, and she was at his side faster than he expected.

“Thanks,” She grinned at him, punching him on the arm. “See you on Monday?”

“Unless XANA calls over the weekend.”

“Ugh, I sure hope not. You guys can sleep in; I have to pretend I went to bed early tonight.”

He snickered. “Goodnight, Yumi.”

“Goodnight, Ulrich.”

She disappeared down the stairs and he watched, a tired smile lingering on his face. He let himself stay for a moment longer, relishing the solitude. People were exhausting. And he still had to face one of them, even though the main activities for the night were over. He dreaded going back. He didn’t want to hear a barrage of mockery for being all too eager to help Yumi out, or more insisting that he “lose the grumpy act.” Nothing he’d ever said before had convinced Odd to shut up, and he was starting to think this was just going to be a constant part of his life.

A yawn overtook him, and he figured that needing to sleep would be a good way of getting Odd off his back as quickly as possible. He headed back to his room and went inside. Odd was there, of course, already changed into his pajamas, a finger to his lips as Ulrich shut the door behind him. “Kiwi’s asleep,” Odd whispered, pointing to the drawer that his dog slept in.

Ulrich nodded, thankful. An even better excuse; one Odd would adhere to since it was his own pet. He excused himself to the bathroom to get ready for bed, smiled at a text from Yumi that told him she got back safe, and returned to the room, a sinking feeling in his gut when he saw Odd was still awake.

“Night.” Ulrich muttered, trying to make it clear that no, shut up, not tonight, getting in bed as quickly as he could.

“Goodnight.” Odd replied, his voice smaller than usual.

Ulrich frowned, staring at the wall in front of him. Not even a single joke? Well. Better for him. He closed his eyes.

“Hey… Ulrich?”

He opened his eyes.

Maybe if he didn’t say anything, Odd’d think he was already asleep.

“Ulrich, are you awake?”

No. He thought, as if that would work.

“I’m going to assume you are and you’re just being a grumpy butt again.”

He hated his life.

“Listen, Ulrich I… I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t know really what – I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. And I’m sorry if that screwed up game night and… I dunno. You’re all my friends, and we should try and do these things! It was fun, after a while, right?”

Odd trailed off, and Ulrich stared at the wall in front of him as if it magically had all the answers to the asked and unasked questions Odd posed, the ones that haunted Ulrich. He had a million things on his mind, a million responses to make, a million confused feelings clenched in his gut.

“And I guess I – I feel like I’m doing something wrong with you, Ulrich. I want to be friends, and I – I dunno. I’m sorry.”

“…I didn’t think sorry was in your vocabulary, Odd.”

“Rude.” Odd shot back, but without any venom. “Friends?”

He let the question sit for a moment, and Ulrich smiled, thinking of the laughter they all shared as Aelita destroyed them for the third time in a row.

“Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

#code lyoko #mary blabs #code secret santa #wowee look a fanfic i havent attached one of those to this tumblr in years

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