#this is a continuation of the previous fic

[spxllcxstxr]

While You Were Sleeping • J&V

(Gif not mine)

Request: recently discovering your arcane works has seriously made my week, your writing is amazing! if you're still taking reqs, can I pls request a jayvik x they/them reader fic? while viktor and jayce are sleeping soundly at night for once, reader surprises them by coming home unexpectedly. they're also a scientist but travels a lot for work, which leads them to be deeply missed by the two. reader gently nuzzles and kisses them until they realize that they're back! just a very sleepy and loving reunion with these three. I need some healing after the jayvik finale in S2 ;_; thank youu :) — anon

Summary: Coming back late at night from your trip, you didn’t expect to find Jayce and Viktor asleep in your shared bed

Warnings: gn!reader, implied scientist reader, it's just fluff guys lol, no dialogue until the last like third lmao

Word Count: 1.5k

A.N: title is a laufey song 🥴, I hope you enjoy!!!

•

You sigh, heaving your heavy travel bags behind you as you climb up the stairs in front of you. Muttering to yourself, you curse at the amount of things you packed for your trip outside of Piltover. You hadn't gone too far for your research this time, and yet past you decided to pack your entire wardrobe and then some.

The keys to the apartment you shared with your lovers dangle precariously from your pants pocket. At first you thought about heading straight to the lab, considering that was where you would no doubt find Jayce and Viktor, but after days of travel, all you wanted was to be home. The two of them would eventually get home anyway, whether it be just passed midnight or just after dawn, so you determined that there was no harm in settling back in your apartment first.

The lights are off when you enter your apartment, the tick-tocking of the old grandfather clock the only sound echoing in the room as the pendulum swings back and forth. Papers filled with equations and scientific illustrations are strewn across every surface. You huff, rolling your eyes. Your apartment looked exactly as you left it weeks ago. Eyes finally adjusting to the familiar darkness, you also spot a few empty coffee mugs scattered all over and jackets draped across every chair. This was certainly home.

With your bags still in your hands, you continue through your decently sized apartment. You had this place memorized at this point, so walking through it in the dark was simple. You knew exactly where the couch Jayce picked out before even moving in was and where Viktor's oddly shaped bookcase was. The comforting familiarity of your home makes warmth spread through your chest; this was something you, Jayce, and Viktor created together from scratch--it meant more to you than any other place in Runeterra, even the ones vital to your research.

You head straight to your bedroom, the desire to fall into your own bed and drift off to sleep overwhelming at this point.

The room is dark when you enter except for the few white rays of moonlight filtering in through the window. Viktor's cane rests against the nightstand on his side of the bed, metal gleaming in the light.

You furrow your brows in confusion, Viktor being home shocking to you. The lab was practically a second home to Jayce and Viktor. Before dating them, they would spend almost every hour of every day there, tinkering with their inventions. Since starting the relationship, Jayce and Viktor tried really hard to break their habit of spending so much time in their lab, which they were largely successful at. With you away for weeks, however, you knew that they tended to take advantage of it and revert back into their previous mindset.

With the cat away, the mice will play, after all, as they say.

Still at the threshold with you bags at your sides, your eyes land on your two lovers laying in bed.

Viktor is curled up beside Jayce, who softly snores against your partner's hairline. You stop at the end of the bed, the tension in your shoulders easing up at the scene before you. Though two blankets cover them, the tips of Viktor's long fingers peek out from the top, showing that his hand is splayed lightly against Jayce's chest, right over his heart.

In the pale moonlight, your lovers look ethereal. The light drapes them in a silvery hue, the luminosity a stark contrast from the rest of the dark room. Jayce and Viktor, with their skin bathed in radiance, are oblivious to your tender gaze.

Smiling softly you feel your heart melt in your chest. This was what you especially missed on your travels. The beds you always wound up in were empty and cold. No amount of blankets piled atop your figure could mimic the warmth Jayce radiated, nor could any pillow replace the comfort of his chest against your cheek. Viktor wasn’t there to hold your hand in his sleep either. There were no golden or amber eyes brightened by the early sunlight gazing at you when you woke up either. You had grown accustomed to the comforting presence of your lovers over the years that you always forget how lonesome travelling could be.

It was a privilege to be able to travel across Runeterra for your research, you knew that; but the absence of your lovers late at night always made you dreadfully homesick.

Quietly, you move around the room in order to change into something better suited for bed. As you change, bags still abandoned near the door, waiting to be unpacked, your partners continue to sleep.

Changed into more comfortable clothes, you ease into bed, slipping underneath the blankets. Viktor continues to mumble incoherently while Jayce shifts, his snoring easing up like he senses your presence. You drape an arm across his chest, fingertips brushing against Viktor's. With your body pressed close to Jayce's, you place kisses along his jawline, the smell of his aftershave lingering on his skin.

Again, he shifts against you, head turning slowly to face you.

"Wha's goin' on?" Jayce sleepily mumbles, eyes slowly opening. The moonlight must be harsh on his bleary eyes because it takes a moment or two for him to fully grasp his surroundings.

His gaze locks onto your own, eyes widening as a grin slowly appears across his face. That small but noticeable gap between his two front teeth has you mirroring his smile tenfold. His brown hair is messy from moving around in his sleep, loose strands dangle in front of his face as he raises his head from the pillow.

"You're home early!" You can tell that he's just barely containing his excitement--he's hardly whispering and already shifting under Viktor's grasp in order to get closer to you.

Before you’re able to respond, Jayce’s lips are on yours, kissing you like his life depends on it. An arm wraps around your midsection, hand resting against the small of your back, and pushes you impossibly closer to himself. You can feel his heart beat beneath his white shirt.

“Gods, I missed you…” He says after pulling away. His eyes shine as he scans over your face as if he’s forgotten what you looked like in only a few weeks.

“I missed you too, Jay…” A hand rises to gently stroke his cheek, something he leans into.

A disgruntled noise erupts from behind your partner and you both turn to check up on Viktor.

Disrupted from his sleep, Viktor playfully glares at the two of you. To anyone else it would appear as though Viktor was absolutely livid with the rude awakening, but you and Jayce knew him better than anyone else; he was happy you were home safe, happy that he could feel complete once again.

"You two truly are incapable of whispering, hm?" His voice is deeper, accent thick with each syllable.

Viktor just looks tired, his pale skin is accompanied by dark bruises under each eye. It certainly looks as if he's spent every hour at the lab recently.

"Hello to you too, Vik. I missed you very much." You tease, leaning over Jayce to capture Viktor's lips.

"I missed you very much, sweetling..." He huffs, moving closer to Jayce in order to meet your lips half way.

Jayce settles on the bed between you, back pressed against the mattress and opens both of his arms for you and Viktor to cuddle into.

"You'll have to tell us all about your adventures---" Jayce starts, fingertips dancing lazily against your back.

"It wasn't like it was a vacation, Jay, I still had work to do." You cuddle closer to Jayce, the warmth radiating from his body making you yawn tiredly. Viktor, though dressed in a comfortable long sleeved shirt with two blankets on top of him, does the same, hoping to take all his partner's body heat for himself.

"Sure, but you were not stuck in the Academy's dungeon staring at the hex gem for hours upon hours upon hours..." Viktor sleepily trails off, his face already buried in the crook of Jayce's neck.

You pull the blankets up to your neck and place a hand on top of Viktor's, which rests on Jayce's chest. His fingertips are cold as ice, as they usually were. You feel your eyelids start to droop, each blink getting longer.

"Why don't we go to sleep, darling? You can tell us all about it in the morning. Maybe me and Vik could spend the day outside of the lab and get some fresh air." Jayce whispers, sensing your exhaustion.

You hum as he kisses the top of your head. He murmurs something along the lines of "goodnight" and "I love you," but it all becomes a blur as you drift off to sleep; finally in your own bed in your own home surrounded by your partners.

•

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.6 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: More of a funny chapter, some fluff, Taehyung being the biggest menace on the planet, Some touching (Not sexy touching sorry lol, its worth it), hella tension, dirty thoughts hehehehe, more confused feelings, stress, yoongi mentioned, seokjin continuing to make vics life hard, Jungkook is bad at feelings, drinking, swearing, smoking, y/n continuing to be the biggest avoider of the century, they are getting better just trust me, healthy communicating??? Ji-eun continuing to be my fav ❥word-count: 11.6k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! a/n: This is like 85% edited right now so sorry if there are mistakes but I wanted to get this chapter out as soon as possible! So enjoy and if you see a mistake no you didn't and Happy Holidays! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Five years ago

“Come on! Let me take you out. You don’t even have to think about the breakup anymore,” Taehyung called out, trailing after Jungkook as he moved from his bedroom to the kitchen, then back again.

Namjoon had texted Taehyung earlier, saying Jungkook had been sulking around the apartment for days. The breakup was mutual—or so Jungkook claimed—but it was still a gut punch. He and his girlfriend had been together since the start of college, and the shift from something so constant to nothing at all wasn’t easy to navigate. Jungkook hadn’t gone into much detail, just muttering something about them not wanting the same things anymore.

 His silence, though, was worrying his friends.

Jungkook barely acknowledged Taehyung, focused on shoving notes and books into his backpack. “I can’t, Tae. I have to meet my project partner.” he muttered, his voice laced with mild frustration.

Taehyung leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “The one who already doesn’t like you? Sounds like a good enough excuse to put it off.”

“I can’t,” Jungkook said, sharper this time. “She already doesn’t like me, so being late will just make it worse. I’m barely tolerated as it is. We’ve been working on this for weeks, and it’s been nothing but cold shoulders and annoyed muttering.” He slung his backpack over his shoulder, heading for the front door.

Taehyung wasn’t giving up so easily. “So...is this the same partner you were complaining about before?”

“Yes.” Jungkook groaned, not breaking stride.

“Well, maybe I should come along. I’m great with people. Could smooth things over—”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off, opening the door. “Anything connected to me seems to make it worse.”

Taehyung kept pace, still grinning. “But you’re already late. What’s five more minutes? I can be a neutral third party. Mediate, make her laugh, maybe even—”

“No.” Jungkook protested again, but Taehyung followed him. Then kept following him all the way to the library.

Once inside, Jungkook scanned the study area. He spotted you almost immediately at a small table in the corner, papers spread around you like a protective barrier. You were frowning, your hand moving quickly across a page as you scribbled something down, a furrow of frustration etched between your brows.

“Alright, time for you to leave.” Jungkook hissed, spinning around and shoving at Taehyung’s shoulder.

But Taehyung wasn’t going anywhere. He caught sight of you, and his playful expression shifted to one of delight. His mouth fell open, and then a slow, mischievous smile tugged at his lips. “Well, hello, gorgeous.” he muttered under his breath.

Jungkook frowned. “What?”

“You didn’t mention she was hot.” Taehyung said, his grin only widening and a wiggle to his eyebrows. “I can work with this.”

Jungkook groaned, grabbing at Taehyung’s arm to stop him, but Taehyung sidestepped him easily, practically skipping as he made his way over to you. You were deep into some calculations for your math class and you felt like you were going insane when someone sat across from you, you peered up to see a stranger swiftly pulling out another chair at your table.

“Hi.” He said warmly, tilting his head as if he’d just stumbled into a casual coffee chat.

Raising an eyebrow to him, you blinked, your pencil pausing mid-air. “Hi? I’m sorry, do I know you?” 

Taehyung shook his head, “No, I’m Taehyung.” He held a hand out to you to shake. 

You hesitated for a beat, then placed your hand in his for a quick, polite shake. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m actually waiting for someone.” 

“Ah, don’t worry. I won’t take up too much of your time.” Taehyung said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “I’m here on a mission.”

You let out a heavy sigh, “If it’s to ask for my number or anything like that. I’m not interested.” 

Taehyung waves you off, not that he would mind slipping you his number, “Nothing of the sort… I mean unless you like what you see.” Taehyung leans back posing in his chair, and you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of him. “I’m actually here to get some information.” 

“Okay?” You cross your arms over your chest, an amused grin on your face. Jungkook from a small distance amazed you haven’t bitten Taehyung's head off. 

Taehyung nodded gravely, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’ve come on behalf of my dear, troubled friend, Jungkook.”

Your polite smile faded instantly, replaced by a tight line of irritation. Casting a quick glance past Taehyung. Sure enough, Jungkook was standing a short distance away, half-hidden behind a bookshelf. His expression torn between embarrassment and dread. “I have to apologize Taehyung–”

“You can call me Tae.” He grins with a wink,  and you roll your eyes.

“Okay Tae. I don’t know you well enough to get into all those details.” 

“How about we have dinner and discuss it then?” Taehyung scoots his chair closer to yours leaning his arms on the table. Just at that moment a hand comes down on Taehyung's shoulder, he glances up to see an annoyed Jungkook towering above him.

“That’s enough.” Jungkook wants to avoid your annoyance at him increasing any further by Taehyung's antics. 

“You’re late,” you said pointedly, your tone icy as you picked your pencil back up and focused on your notes. Refusing to look at Jungkook.

“Can you see why?” Jungkook gestured to Taehyung and took another seat at the table. Taehyung rubbing his chin glancing between the two of you with some amusement. 

“Wow, there really is some hostility here… almost electric.” Taehyung leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as his gaze shifted between you and Jungkook. His grin was as sharp as a knife, cutting through the tension with deliberate ease. “For the sake of Jungkook’s sanity—and mine—I have to know. Did he ghost you? Forget a birthday? Sleep with you and never call you again?”

Your eyes widened, disbelief freezing you for a beat before your voice finally squeaked out, “Excuse me?”

“Tae.” Jungkook kicks his leg under the table and Taehyung winces.

“I was just curious!” Taehyung raises both of his arms up in surrender, “Seriously, what did he do?” He pressed, eyes sparkling with mischief as he ignored Jungkook’s obvious irritation.

You shifted in your seat, feeling caged in under their expectant stares, but your posture stayed composed. You refused to let them see you squirm. “I thought I already said I don’t know you well enough for the details?” You replied coolly, hoping to deflect.

“Well,” Taehyung said, clearing his throat as if settling in for a monologue. “I’m Kim Taehyung. I’m a Capricorn. I enjoy wine and find most other alcohol kind of overrated. Jungkook’s one of my closest friends, like, ever. I love dogs, but I have a massive respect for cats. See? We know each other better already.”

His brazen confidence was so unexpected it caught you off guard, drawing a small laugh from your lips despite yourself. “That’s all fine and good,” You said, shaking your head, “but this is personal, Tae.”

“Can I at least put in a good word for him?” Taehyung raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, gesturing toward Jungkook like he was trying to sell a piece of furniture.

You hesitated, glancing at Jungkook than back to Taehyung. “Alright.” 

Jungkook was surprised you were even entertaining his theatrics. Taehyung’s face lit up in triumph, and he shot Jungkook a smug look before leaning in like he was about to share a juicy secret. “Okay, listen. Whatever he did to earn this… frustration from you, I can guarantee it wasn’t on purpose. Either that, or he’s completely oblivious. Probably the second one, honestly.”

You tried not to let his words affect you, but the sincerity in his voice was hard to ignore. He didn’t seem like he was messing with you.

“Here’s the thing,” Taehyung continued, his tone dropping lower as if the next part was especially important. “Jungkook’s one of the best people I know. Seriously. He’s somewhat dumb sometimes, sure, but he’s also loyal and… well, kind of a big softie. I think whatever’s going on here is probably just a huge misunderstanding.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in his words.

Then, as if he couldn’t resist, Taehyung grinned again and reached over to pinch Jungkook’s cheek. “Plus, he’s a big baby and such a cutie, right?”

Jungkook groaned, swatting Taehyung’s hand away. “Stop.”

“No, seriously,” Taehyung insisted, turning to you with exaggerated curiosity. “He’s cute, right?” 

You froze like a deer in headlights, eyes darting between them. “I mean… he’s alright, I guess.” you said, shrugging in an attempt to play it cool. It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed Jungkook’s looks, they were hard to miss, but you weren't really on the market these days. 

“Okay, but what about me?” Taehyung tilted his head, all innocent. “Am I more than just ‘alright’?”

“Goodbye, Taehyung.” Jungkook stood abruptly, tugging Taehyung up from his seat. “We’re leaving.”

Jungkook got up from his seat trying to pull Taehyung away from his own. Taehyung resists for a moment, snatching your pencil to quickly scribble his number down on a blank piece of paper you had out. 

“Call me.” Taehyung lifts his hand up to hear ear to motion for you to call, as he is getting dragged away by Jungkook. Far out of your sight from your table. You glance down at the number, it was poorly written but you could still make it out. 

You knew you wouldn’t call but Taehyung's genuine honesty and unabashed personality was a breath of fresh air. At least you could really only hope everything he said was real and not him covering for Jungkook. 

After a minute Jungkook returned to the table, annoyance written all over his face. He took his seat again with a heavy sigh. “Sorry… about him.” 

“Oh, it’s okay. I could tell he meant well.” You brush him off and continue to write something in your notebook. “Seems like a good friend.” 

“He is.” Jungkook nods, finally taking the time to pull out his own books and notes. “Just a tad nosy.” 

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow with a small smile, presenting the phone number. “Severely cocky too.” 

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head at the horribly written numbers on the page. “Yeah, you’re welcome to burn that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Present Day

Taehyung had always been nosy, maybe even intrusive at times. He really just liked being in people's business and being in the know. This time though, he just happened upon this information and wasn’t really trying to be involved. He really couldn’t help himself in this case. 

“If you tell me what’s going on with you and Y/N.” Taehyung said, propping his chin in the palm of his hand. His elbow rested on the table as he studied Jungkook with a knowing glint in his eye.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice steady, though a flicker of unease slipped into his tone. He casually raised his drink to his lips, taking a slow sip as if the conversation was of no consequence.

Taehyung grinned wider, his head tilting. “Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb. I saw you.”

Jungkook frowned faintly, still feigning confusion. “Saw me what?” Jungkook didn’t react—not outwardly, at least. Years of navigating intense courtroom scrutiny made him a master of keeping a cool exterior. But beneath the surface, his pulse quickened.

“You and Y/N. Leaving together after emo night.”

Jungkook blinked once, twice. “Okay?”

“Okay?” Taehyung repeated, drawing the word out mockingly. He leaned forward just enough to make Jungkook feel cornered. “Y/N wouldn’t share a fry with you, let alone a ride home. It doesn’t add up. So I started thinking.” He paused, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table, each tap feeling like a provocation. “At first, I let it go. People share cars sometimes, sure. But then Jimin mentioned you’ve been acting... off. Quiet. Weird.”

“It’s called maturity,” Jungkook quipped dryly. “You should try it sometime.”

Taehyung snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Maturity? You? The guy who stress-ate three bags of gummy worms during trial prep and then tried to convince us it was a ‘tactical’ decision?”

“They were sour gummy worms,” Jungkook shot back defensively. “Completely different vibe.”

“Sure but you’re usually unbearable before a trial.” Taehyung raised a brow. “Pacing around, running through every tiny detail like your life depends on it. Hell, last time you made me and Namjoon sit through your entire case just to ‘practice.’ You even roped Melanie into being the jury. Still can’t believe she ruled against me.”

“She has great judgment,” Jungkook quipped, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure. But here’s the thing: this time? No pacing, no rambling, no pestering me to play the opposing counsel. Just radio silence. It’s weird.”

Jungkook shrugged, his shoulders stiff with tension. “Maybe I’ve gotten better at managing my stress.”

Taehyung snorted. “Yeah, right.” He turned in his seat to face Jungkook fully, his expression sharpening. “When Jimin said something, I started piecing it together. Thinking on the last few weeks. I thought maybe it was family related but, you hadn’t mentioned anything recently. So then I thought, who’s the only person who throws you off your game? Y/N.”

Jungkook’s stomach dropped, but he kept his face neutral. Barely.

“I also thought it might have just been the forced proximity. You two always go nuclear when you spend too much time in the same 500 yards. Except I remembered how weird you two were acting at the wedding, and how you guys disappeared for a while during the rehearsal dinner.” Taehyung continued, his voice dropping just enough to feel like a warning shot. “You think I didn’t notice?” He tilted his head, his gaze cutting. “So, one more time—what’s going on with you and Y/N?”

A silence hung between them in quiet confirmation. Jungkook's face was hot and he was flustered, but also… filled with relief? Like a weight was lifted? Jungkook hadn’t told anyone what had been going on with you two but Taehyung figuring it out made it suddenly so easy. It had all gotten him so wound up and freaked out that he hadn’t realized how much he really wanted to talk. Talk it through, you certainly weren’t going to want to discuss it.

Taehyung’s face morphed into a relaxed and understanding grin, clearly reveling in his own detective work. “Hey, listen. If you’re not ready to talk about it… whatever! I think it’s great. Whatever it is, friendship, relationship, sex. You’re both adults. Have fun.” 

Jungkook let out a breathless laugh, adjusting in his seat. “I don’t even know what’s going on. Definitely not a relationship, I’ll tell you that much.” His lips curled into a shy smile, but his voice carried an edge of uncertainty.

Taehyung nodded knowingly, leaning back in his chair. “Well, start by telling me how this all started.”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, organizing his thoughts. “What’s weird is that, thinking about it now, it feels… insane. We fought at the rehearsal dinner. Like, properly fought. Then we went outside to cool off, and I don’t know—something shifted. We started talking about how we’re terrible at communicating. Like, talking has never worked for us.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “So, I said maybe we should try something else. Something physical.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up. “You suggested that?”

“Yeah. Why is that surprising?”

“Because Y/N would never suggest that, and you’re usually too uptight to even think about it.” Taehyung took a long, deliberate sip of his drink, clearly enjoying the moment. “So you guys…?” He trailed off, leaving the question hanging even though it was painfully obvious.

Jungkook sighed and gave a reluctant nod.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung said, leaning forward with wide eyes and a grin. “I knew you two had chemistry.”

Jungkook frowned. “No, you didn’t.”

“Did too! The first time I met Y/N, it was so obvious. Sure, she was silently plotting your demise, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t heat. You can have tension and attraction, you know.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips despite himself. “You’re delusional.”

“So,” Taehyung pressed, clearly not planning to drop the subject anytime soon, “How does Emo Night fit into this?”

Jungkook leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Honestly… it’s kind of a blur. We were fighting, then we weren’t. Then we were laughing, and the next thing I knew, we were going back to my place.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle, giving Jungkook a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. “Wow. Good for you. It was only a matter of time.”

Jungkook blinked at him, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Taehyung shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, come on. You’re both hot. You’re both single. Nothing wrong with playing around and seeing what happens.”

Jungkook hesitated, his expression shifting. “I don’t think it’ll happen again.”

“Why not?” Taehyung asked, his tone light but his gaze probing.

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “I don’t know. Every time it’s happened, I’ve felt this… weird sense of guilt afterward. Like I’m doing something I shouldn’t. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like I’m not even living in my own skin.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m not the type to just hook up, you know that. I don’t have the time or the mindset for it.”

Taehyung tilted his head, studying him thoughtfully. His voice was softer this time, almost careful. “Do you feel guilty because you think you’re not supposed to? Or is it because it actually feels good, but since it’s with Y/N, you’re telling yourself it shouldn’t be happening?”

The question caught Jungkook off guard. He blinked, his brow furrowing as he thought about it. “I… don’t know.”

Taehyung chewed on his lip for a moment, his expression pensive. “If I’m not overstepping,” he said cautiously, “I think you are enjoying yourself. And sure, I know you only like to sleep with people if you’re considering a relationship—”

“That’s the thing,” Jungkook cut in, his tone sharper than he’d intended. “I’m not looking for anything right now. Let alone with Y/N.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Taehyung held up a hand, his voice calm but insistent. “I’m saying maybe… let the chips fall where they may.”

Jungkook frowned, his confusion evident. “What do you mean?”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat, his fingers drumming lightly against the tabletop as he chose his words. “You’ve had so much going on in the last year. Maybe this—whatever it is—is happening at the perfect time. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be forever. But maybe it’s exactly what you need right now.”

Jungkook snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not like you. I can’t just sleep around. Plus, work takes up all my time.”

Taehyung laughed lightly, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Oh, I’m not saying with just anyone or all the time. I’m saying just whenever it comes about naturally… with Y/N.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” Taehyung said, grinning now. “Funny enough, I think Y/N is perfect for this. She’s not going to get attached to you, and you already know you have chemistry. It’s like the universe handed you the ideal situation on a silver platter.”

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, shaking his head again. “It’s too complicated with Y/N. It shouldn’t happen again.”

“Why not?” Taehyung pressed, his teasing grin fading into something more thoughtful. His voice softened, but the curiosity behind it remained sharp. “Have you even talked to her about it? Like, actually talked?”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh, the sound short and humorless, as he rubbed his chin. “Sort of. Not really. We talked about the wedding for about five seconds, and then we fought about… well, the last time.”

Taehyung snorted, propping his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Wow, groundbreaking. Gossip of the century. You and Y/N fighting? Stop the presses, I’m shocked.” His voice was thick with sarcasm, and the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth made Jungkook glare.

“You act like conversations come easy for us,” Jungkook shot back, his tone defensive.

Taehyung tilted his head, his expression shifting to something softer—almost amused. “You know,” he began, his voice thoughtful, “I’ve gotten to know Y/N pretty well over the years. She’s not as stubborn as you make her out to be. If anything, she’s way softer than she lets on.”

Jungkook looked at him sharply, his brow furrowing. “Okay?”

“It means,” Taehyung said patiently, “you should at least try.  Y/N is actually pretty reasonable once you sit down and actually talk to her.”

“Talking to her isn’t as simple as you’re making it sound,” Jungkook muttered, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “You talk to people you don’t even like all the time at work. How is this any different?”

“Where do you think I got all that practice?” Jungkook retorted dryly.

Taehyung let out a bark of laughter, his head tilting back briefly before he fixed Jungkook with a pointed look. “Fine. You’re going to Namjoon’s tomorrow, right?”

“Of course.” Jungkook said, crossing his arms like the question was ridiculous.

“Perfect,” Taehyung said, clapping his hands together. “There’s your opportunity. Just try to have a normal conversation with her. Just… be casual. You can do that, can’t you?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know me?”

Taehyung ignored the jab, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m serious. You don’t have to solve the world’s problems tomorrow. Just talk. And for the love of all that’s holy, keep your clothes on. Since that seems to be difficult for you two now.”

“Alright I’ll try.” Finishing off his drink, Jungkook stood. “I should go now. I need to get some more work done tonight.” Jungkook started to leave when Taehyung called after him.

“Hey!” Taehyung called after him as Jungkook made his way to the door. “Just think about it, alright? You might even realize I’m right. It happens more often than you’d think!”

Jungkook just waved to him as he left. He was going to make his way up to his car but he paused. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Taking one and lighting it. He hadn’t been smoking as often lately, but he felt he deserved one after the success of the week. Jungkook took a long drag letting the smoke fill his lungs before blowing it out through his nose. A small buzz washed through him, cigarettes didn’t really have the same hit these days but couldn't quite kick the habit. 

He knew the smell would stick to him, would linger and cling to these clothes. He started to walk up the street to his car. Just finishing off the cigarette slowly and making sure he was more than safe to drive. Thinking about what Taehyung told him, he hadn’t thought he had been so stressed. Hooking up with you continuously was just a recipe for disaster, it had to be. He was just asking for something to go wrong and you two were always on thin ice as it was. Not that Jungkook would ever bring up any of Taehyungs advice to you… again.

Last time was the last time, a very specific set of circumstances had to come together for the last two times to even work out. 

All though Jungkook had become the furthest thing from your mind this evening. You were entering the hospital at the ungodly hour of 10:30pm because you decided yeah I can totally switch shifts this weekend! I haven’t done a night shift in a while so this will be fine! You are majorly regretting it now. You had slept most of the day but you were still somehow exhausted. 

“Good morning beautiful.” Vic greeted you as you trudged your way to sit next to her at the nurses station. You shot her a glare sitting down in your chair pulling out one of the tablets. 

“I hate the night shift. Why did I agree to this?” You groan, typing your password multiple times and failing. 

“Because you are lovely and wonderful and Maya really needed the switch.” Vic stood up and behind you and rubbed your shoulders. “You can do this, it’s pretty simple at night anyways.” 

“Ugh please don’t jinx me. You’ll say that and suddenly everything’s gonna go wrong.” You lay your head back looking up at her with a small pout. 

“You’ll be just fine, plus Yoongi is here all night with you. He’s fun to torture during the night shift.” Vic patted you before she grabbed her bag and rounded her way to the elevators.

“Have a good night.” You call out to her but then dive your head into your work. Since it was so easy going you knew this would be a good opportunity to finish up paperwork. There was always plenty to catch up on, you could maybe even get a medication inventory count done tonight as long as everything goes smoothly. 

You spend the next little while just working. Yoongi came and joined you after a while and you both just made small conversation here and there. The two of you had actually gotten closer in the time you’ve been up here. He’s actually super nice and much funnier than anyone gives him credit for. The quiet exterior thing was mostly a professional front but when he’s around you and Vic he loosens way up. 

Once one of the other night nurses, Kay, had arrived you stole him away to help you with meds. 

“Okay would you rather broadcast your thoughts to everyone around you at all times or never be able to think in words again?” You ask as you write down some notes about things that need to be ordered. 

Yoongi thought for a moment as he is opening up a box to inspect the contents, “Can I think in pictures?” 

“Hmm I’ll say yes but you can’t imagine pictures of words.” You tap your pen against your mouth. 

“I’ll never think in words again. I don’t need everyone knowing my thoughts.” Yoongi says and you nod. “What about you?” 

“You know what, I agree. I don’t need everyone knowing how often I think about quitting.” You snort under your breath. Yoongi smiles amused. 

“We all know, you don’t need your thoughts broadcasted for that.” Yoongi teased and you push his shoulder. 

“I’m quitting right now.” 

“Right.” 

You sigh looking around. “Well we’ve barley made a dent. I’m going to going do a loop and check in, will you see if Kay needs anything?” You hand him the notepad you had been making notes on. 

“No problem, and we can totally finish this tonight. Plus we have like 10 more hours.” Yoongi points around the room. It’s true you guys just needed to stay focussed. 

“Nah you have better things to worry about tonight. I’ll just force Wendy to help me when she gets in.” You wave your hand back and forth, leaving the closet. 

You make your way up and down the wing. Most patients were asleep and you would slip in just to make sure there was nothing you guys were missing or not being alerted about. You had pretty good systems and alarms to make sure that didn’t happen but you always liked to check just to make sure. Everyone seemed in good shape for the night, you decided to ends your rounds with checking in on Ji-eun. You poked your head into the room to find she was in fact awake. She was looking at something on her Ipad. The light dimmed. 

“What are you—” You step into the room, Ji-eun's attention pulled to you. At that moment your attention is immediately pulled to the couch that came into view. Someone was asleep there with blanket pulled over them and they were facing away. You drop your voice to a whisper. “Oh my god I’m so sorry. I didn’t know someone was here with you.” 

You try to backing out of the room, but Ji-eun waves for you to come back. Her voice also a whisper, “No no no come back in. I’m happy to see you, you’re never here this late.” 

A sigh of exhaustion leaves you, “Yeah one of the girls needed to switch shifts due to an emergency. So here I am.” 

“That’s nice of you. I can’t imagine overnight shifts are at all easy.” She gives you a sympathetic smile, setting her iPad to the side. 

“It’s alright. Dr. Min and Kay are good company.” Your attention is pulled back to the figure on the couch that shifts slightly. Maybe it was Ji-eun’s husband? You hadn’t had a chance to meet any of her family yet. They were never here when you usually worked. “Is that your husband?” 

Ji-eun looks over and then back to you with a shake of her head. “Oh no, this is one of my boys.” 

“Oh! How sweet he’s here with you.” You glance over and then back to her. 

“Yeah he must have arrived just barely before you. He’s had a long week and hadn’t been able to stop by. Then he fell asleep.” 

“Is this his first time coming to see you? Since you got here?” You found your curiosity peaked.

“Oh no no. He was with me the day I checked in and then he’s been here several times since. Always late like this.” She glances over then back to you. “I hope it’s okay he’s here.” 

Technically you really shouldn’t let family stay over night but it wasn’t a rule. More frowned upon due to some incidents in the past. “Usually we try not to allow it, but I’ll let it go for now.” You give her mischievous grin, and she laughs to herself. 

Ji-eun had an operation schedule for two weeks from now for the tumor in her leg to be removed. She was in high spirits about it. Removing that tumor would officially bring her back down to stage 3. The hope was that they could remove the whole thing.

Dr. Kim took a new biopsy earlier in the week and you learned this tumor was completely unrelated to the liver cancer, which was the original belief. Since the tumor had gotten down almost to the bone she would be off her feet for some time. She also will have to stop chemotherapy for a while until she heals from this operation. So mostly good things but concerning in terms of her cancer and how aggressive her case has been.

The current treatment hasn’t shown any signs of improvements to the tumors on her liver. It was still early so it was inconclusive. You could tell from the way Dr. Kim and Yoongi had been speaking about it that they were hoping for more improvement. Ji-eun hadn’t lost her spirit though. She was still so cheerful everyday you saw her and always had a story or smile to give. She’s made the weeks up here easier. In the time you’ve spent up here you have seen a few patients pass. Two just this week. You didn’t know them well but it was still tough. Especially because they were cases that had much better odds than most. Needless to say it weighed on you, so talking to Ji-eun made it easier. 

Vic and Yoongi had also done a good job at showing you how they handle it. In other specialties you don’t spend as much with the patients, little easier to become impersonal. Up here you have people who are here for weeks or months so you learn about them. Which makes it worse if they don’t pull through. 

“Why are you up so late?” You sit on the end of her bed, “You just had treatment on Tuesday, you need rest.”

“Just a touch of nausea it’ll pass.” She pats her stomach.

“Are you finally admitting to feeling it a little?” You say, talking about the chemo. Ji-eun had been doing well on this one and not shown any major symptoms yet. At least, that is what she was telling everyone. 

“A little.” She huffed, “Nothing serious. It’ll pass soon.” 

“I can get you something if you need. You don’t have to just tough it out, even though I know you try too.” You lean on one of your hands, your face falling into slight concern. 

“I'm tougher than you think. No chemo can get me down. Now you go. I’m sure you have plenty of work that needs to be done.” She tried to wave you out of the room, but you roll your eyes. 

“I’ve got a minute.” You glance over to her ever updating pile of crochet projects. “What are you working on right now?” 

Ji-eun glances to her pile. “I know it’s a big cliché, but I’m working on a few things for you and Victoria, and the docs.” She pull over some of her stuff, “It’s just scarves.” 

She pulls out one that looks to already be complete that is green and blue and red stripes. Another that is all red. 

“The stripped one is for Dr. Kim. The red is for Victoria. Felt fitting since she is so fiery, and Dr. Kim is so flamboyant.” She held them out to you, they were very well done. She picked a very oft thread for them as well so they were nice to touch.

“Oh these are lovely.” You fold them and lay them back down on the bed. “Dr. Kim will love his, I assure you.” 

“And this,” She reaches down on the side of the bed, “will be yours eventually.” She pull out a dark blue scarf that had stars being stitched throughout. It was still a work in progress, maybe about half way done? It was truly lovely so far. “I think it looks pretty good!” 

You give her a happy pout looking at it, “I love it. It’s so cute. I can’t wait to wear it.” 

“Well I better hurry up and get it done!” Her voice was a little louder than she intended, and whichever of Ji-eun's sons was on the couch stirred. “Whoops too loud. Can I get your opinion for Yoongi? I want to make him one but I’m not sure.” 

You thought for a moment if you should tell her to give him something outrageously bright just to see him feel forced to wear it. You decided against it though. “Probably something neutral. He’s not the flashy type. Maybe a black or grey.” 

“Awe I was hoping maybe he had a colorful streak hidden under that quiet exterior.” Her face twisted in annoyance, “Neutral it is.” 

You get yourself off the bed. It was time that you got back and continued your work. It was a nice little break but there was a lot left to be done tonight. 

“I must leave you now. If you need anything you know where we are.” You take a step towards the door. 

“I’ll try.” Ji-eun huffs with fake annoyance in her tone like you were a mom scolding her. 

You roll your eyes knowing she’s just going to continue to be tough about it. You turn to the door before something catches your attention before stepping out. It was subtle and you hadn’t noticed it before but you definitely smelt it now. 

Just a faint smell of cigarette. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

After a long and grueling night. Your shift was coming to an end. You and Yoongi, with the help of Wendy another night nurse, you managed to get a good jump on inventory. The rest of the night you mostly just did paperwork and bothered Yoongi when you could. No major issues except you were not really built for a night shift. About an hour ago you took advantage and stowed yourself away to get a tiny bit of rest in an on call room. With your slumber abruptly interrupted. 

“Rise and shine baby girl!” Vic hit her leg on the side of the bunk you were sleeping in. Rattling it and you awake.

With an angry grunt you rolled over to look at her. “You’re so obnoxious.” 

“I’m here to relieve you. Get up.” She holds a hand out to you to help you get to your feet. “How was last night?”

“Not bad.” You yawn and stretch your arms straight into the air. You fill her in on some other details and you both leave the on call room and walk back to the nurses station. Giving her some updates on what you and Kay did in the night. 

You collected some of your stuff from the desk when you overheard some of the other girls you worked with talking. 

“Okay but like you saw him.” Lana, a new hire here, leaning on both of her hands swiveling from side to side in her chair. Dramatically star struck. 

“You were right, hot.” Angel, another girl who usually works opposite shifts of you. So you haven’t gotten to know her much. 

“Ladies,” Vic interrupted arms folded, “I think we have better things we could be doing?” 

“Yeah but Lana’s crush was here. So she’s all distracted now.” Angel rolled her eyes, nudging Lana to come out of her dream state. You laugh under your breath. 

“Who’s her crush?” You breath, balancing your stuff in your arms. Looking between the two of them.

Lana groaned, “I don’t actually know his name. I’m just pretty sure he’s Ji-euns son. You had to have seen him Y/N, you’re on her case.” She looked to you, her pupils practically turning into little hearts.

“I actually haven’t met any of Ji-eun’s family. I’ll see what I can find out.” You yawn thinking back on it. Sad Ji-eun’s been excited to introduce you to her family and you just barely missed him. Maybe next time. 

“Get his name as soon as possible please. So Lana can bug you about it instead of me.” Angel got up from the desk, walking away as quickly as she could. You and Vic watch her go in her annoyance and you both have amused smiles. 

“I’m sure you could just ask. Ji-eun uses any opportunity to talk about her family.” You pat Lana on the shoulder, “Hope he’s everything you hope he is.” 

“Me too.” Lana gets up as well taking a tablet with her in a day dreamy walk. 

“Don’t encourage her. She’s new so she doesn’t need to get her hopes high. ”Vic nudged you. She was mostly teasing. 

“Hey, we need some new entertainment around here other than Yoongi. I’m just sad her crush isn’t on him so we don’t get to tease him about it.” You laugh, just then Seokjin and Yoongi were rounding the corner. 

“Good morning my wonderful staff.” Seokjin beamed between you and Vic. Vic narrowing her eyes at Seokjin already. Oh he’s in for a long day. 

“You didn’t sign your charts last night.” She taps her finger impatiently. Yoongi trying to hide. “Yoongi this goes for you two, and you have no excuse you were here all night.” 

You place a hand on her, “To be fair he really helped us out with the medicine and inventory count.” 

She huffs, “Okay fine you’re off the hook. You sir,” pointing back to Seokjin. “You’re gonna sit and do it before you do anything else today.” 

“What’s with the hostility? To think I bought treats for you today and this is the thanks I get?” Seokjin sniffs and fake wipes his eyes. 

“I’ll be less hostile when you sign your charts.” She barks.

You decide you need to slip out now before the blood bath begins. You made your way home in record time. You were desperate to sleep in your own bed because you were finally going to see Melanie tonight. You were so excited that her and Namjoon were back, and tonight would be all in good fun. Or at least you hoped it would. 

Jungkook's annoying presence would certainly be something to handle… considering. 

You couldn’t even think straight as you crashed on your bed. You didn’t even bother to change, just letting the weight of the night overtake you. It felt like a blink of an eye though as it was suddenly 6 pm. You needed to get up and get ready for sure now. You had roughly about an hour before you needed to be getting out the door. So you shower the night off and dress casually, you had a feeling you may be crashing there tonight so you didn’t need to look amazing. 

You certainly didn’t feel too amazing, exhausted really. 

After too long you were arriving and knocking on the front door. Namjoon and Melanie had a very nice townhome, it wasn’t decorated in a typical fashion. It was always very warm and welcoming and homey. You tended to hang out here a lot because of how good of a job they did at making it so nice. Unfortunately that did involve many night where you, Ash, and Melanie overtake the house and Namjoon is left sleeping in the guest room or downstairs. He really didn’t mind but you always felt a little bad. 

With a swift swing open of the door Melanie was who you came face to face with. “Finally! My knight in shining armor has arrived!” Melanie swooned against the door frame. 

“My darling I’ve return from war!” You step inside and are immediately enveloped into a hug. It was so nice to finally have her back. You didn’t want to bug her with anything while her and Namjoon were away but now it was free game. “I need to hear every detail about your trip.” 

“Oh trust me I’ve got a whole presentation prepared.” She keeps an arm around you as you enter the house. 

The entryway was a long hallway with tall ceilings, stairs lined one wall, with entrance to the living room first and then just up the hall entrance to the kitchen. A small bathroom tucked under the stairs. 

“Oh I can’t wait.” You giggle and rub your hands together, “I need something to eat though I’m starving.” 

“Oh there’s plenty of food so help yourself. We’ve got all night.” She pulled you into the living room where you were greeted with Ash and Namjoon in a heated debate about what looked like a just finished match of Mario kart. Taehyung was sprawled out on the couch, looking like a kicked puppy. Melanie sat down on the opposite love seat leaving you standing, 

You squat down to Taehyung's eye level, “What was it this time? Eleventh or twelve?” 

He fakes sobs, “If there was a thirteenth place they would make it for me.” You snort and ruffle his hair. 

“You’ll get him next time.” You sit down on the love seat with Melanie laying your legs across her lap. 

“You don’t want to sit with me?” Taehyung sat up on the couch with a puppy dog look in his eye. 

“I need some Melanie time tonight. I’ll give you my attention another time.” You say but Taehyung still played sad. 

“Mel! Back me up! He so cheated!” Ash erupted between the three of you, pointing to Namjoon accusingly. 

“I did not!” Namjoon quipped back, “She’s the one who was trying to shove me the entire time!”

“I’m not getting in the middle of you two and your stupid Mario kart rivalry again! I made that mistake once and I almost got my head bitten off for it.” Melanie grumbled in annoyance at the two of them. They both deflated but still were annoyed. 

“You know how competitive they get, why let them play?” You ask, raising an eyebrow to Taehyung and Melanie. 

“I left the room for five seconds and suddenly they were deep into it by then.” Melanie raised her hands in innocence. You believed it, Ash and Namjoon had a years long running tally of Mario kart wins. They always stayed neck and neck and it was very serious for them. You were okay at it, always coming out somewhere in the middle. 

“Well I need a drink if this is how the night is going to continue.” You get back up from your seat. 

“There’s tons of wine please drink it.” Namjoon called after you, you gave a thumbs up behind you in response. Heading down to the kitchen. 

Rounding your way into the in there really was tons of snacks and food at the ready on the island counter. You imagine Melanie had meant to bring it into the living room but got sucked into the game with the others. 

You pick a random bottle, opening it and pouring yourself a glass. It was pretty good for a random pick. You balance your glass, the bottle, and a armful of snacks bringing them with you to the living room to lay them out on the coffee table. 

“Oh thank you.” Melanie beamed, taking a bag of chips from you. 

“I figured they got left behind in the gaming escapades. This wine is also nice.” You take another sip from your glass, setting the bottle down. 

Melanie takes the bottle holding it up to Namjoon, he also looks at it, “Joonie, where did we get this one?” 

“Jungkook got it as a gift.” Namjoon nodded when seeing the bottle. 

Taehyung dramatically held onto the nearest object. You gave him a funny look.

“Sorry Jungkook's name was mentioned in your presence. Thought I should prepare for a disaster.” He teased, you hit him on the shoulder.

“I’m not that dramatic.” You settle down on the couch next to him. “Here I’ll give him a compliment right now. He can pick out a nice wine. Let’s hope it’s not poison.” 

“Wow,” Taehyung deadpanned, clutching his chest. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“Anyways, what’s going on with you these days.” You look at Taehyung. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding.” 

“I tried to catch up with you at emo night but seems you got stolen away.” Taehyung says and it makes you take a slight moment of pause. Taehyung said it that way on purpose. Knowing what he knows, “You know cause you went home early.” 

You nod, playing it cool. “Yeah I had too much. It was good I called it early because it could have gotten messy.” 

“Probably smart, a little too much to drink can make us do some questionable things.” Taehyung says it almost with some suggestion, like trying to point to a certain subject. It didn’t slip by you, it felt too intentional. 

“Yeah, I guess?” You play it off, “Anyways, any new girl I can hear about as of late? Any crazy stories you got for me?” 

Taehyung shakes his head, “I’ve taken a little break lately. Trying to be serious.” 

“Really? You?” You cock an eyebrow. 

“Nah,” He smirks, “What about you? Anyone wrapped around your finger at the moment?” 

You narrow your eyes at him, Taehyung had a way of trying to subtly gets answers. Him asking about your love life never comes without a catch. Last time it was a blind date he wanted to set you up on. “No. I’m not really looking right now.” 

He slowly nods his head, his stare a bit too intense for comfort. “Very interesting.” 

“Okay what are you planning? If you're planning on giving my number out to someone can I at least know who and why?” You groan, leaning your head on the back of the couch looking up to the ceiling. 

“No I wouldn't do that to you… again. I’m just confirming a solution to a problem I’m working on.” 

You wanted to probe further into what Taehyung was talking about, but decided to just leave it. Whatever he had cooking up in his mind could not be good. Better to not indulge him. 

The night buzzed with the hum of wine-fueled laughter, the clink of glasses, and a playlist that had long since fallen victim to the chaos of too many requests. You were tipsy, just enough to feel bold and carefree, your giggles blending seamlessly with the chatter around you.

Ash, Melanie, and you had claimed the big couch as your domain, limbs tangled in a haphazard heap. Your head rested in Ash’s lap, where she was absently braiding and unbraiding sections of your hair, likely creating a disaster you'd deal with tomorrow. Namjoon and Taehyung had been exiled to the love seat and the floor, making them easy targets for your drunken commentary.

This was how these nights always went—wine, games, and an inevitable retreat to Namjoon and Melanie’s room, where the three of you would indulge in a late-night slumber party like teenagers.

Just then a ring from the doorbell sounded through the house. Announcing the arrival of the demon spawn. Namjoon sprung up from his spot and trotted to the door. You could hear a few voices echo in the hall before Namjoon and Jungkook reentered the room with some laughs. 

“Golden boy finally arrived.” Taehyung held his arms up in celebration. The wine in his glass almost flinging everywhere. 

You rolled your eyes so hard you were sure they’d get stuck. Melanie wiggled her way out from under your legs to give Jungkook a hug, which he returned with genuine warmth. You looked away, muttering under your breath, “Great, now we’re all blessed by his presence.”

Melanie beamed, entirely ignoring your sarcasm. “Okay, now that everyone’s here, we can finally show pictures from the trip!” She dashed out of the room and returned moments later with her laptop, bounding around everyone and hooking it up to the TV.

“Oh you actually had a presentation prepared?” You laugh at her and Melanie rolls her eyes. 

“Yes,” Melanie retorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’ll like it. Now, everyone, sit.” 

Melanie urges Namjoon and Jungkook to sit back down. Namjoon took the available spot next to Taehyung, which left the spot your legs currently occupied the only place left. 

The command turned the room into a musical chairs scramble. Namjoon reclaimed his spot by Taehyung, leaving the couch seat you were sprawled across as the only one open.

Jungkook eyed the seat with a smirk and crossed his arms. “Guess you’ll have to move.”

Without budging an inch, you waved dismissively at the floor. “There’s plenty of space down there.” 

Jungkook, tilted his head, tongue in cheek. He should have expected the immediate annoyance he would get from you being here. Taehyung watched from the other couch with bated breath, sipping on his wine. 

“Oh this looks like such a comfortable spot though.” Without warning Jungkook places his butt right on top of your legs. Sighing joyfully, it was not comfortable but the face you were making was worth it. 

Ash immediately burst out laughing, her hands still tangled in your hair. “I mean, he’s not wrong. You’re pretty cozy.”

“Get off.” You groan, tugging your legs out from under him and sitting up straight.

Jungkook stretched out leisurely, claiming the newly vacated spot with a satisfied smirk. "Ah, much better."

You narrowed your eyes at him, resisting the urge to shove him off the couch entirely. Taehyung, still observing from his perch with an amused glint in his eye, raised his glass in toast. "And just like that, our main event is underway."

"You're enjoying this way too much," you snapped at Taehyung, who simply shrugged and sipped his wine.

Melanie clapped her hands, reclaiming everyone's attention. "Alright, children, settle down. You're distracting from my masterpiece here." She gestured to the TV, where the first picture from their trip was already displayed: a stunning view of a mountain range bathed in golden light.

The room collectively oohed and aahed, and Melanie launched into a detailed explanation of the hike they had to endure to get the shot. Namjoon chimed in with a few quips about Melanie nearly slipping on a rock, which earned him a playful swat on the arm.

Ash, kept you grounded in your spot so you didn’t push Jungkook away. He didn’t try to antagonize you again. He stayed settled to his spot and his attention on Melanie. Staying engaged with everyone except you. You got another drink into you during the presentation and so did Ash. both of your giggling every now and then on your side of the couch. Entertaining yourselves thoroughly. 

Jungkook just stayed as far on his side as he could. Didn’t mean something else was happening. Because Taehyung was texting him. 

Tae: So are you going to talk to y/n tonight??????

Tae: I think you should ;)

Tae: Remember just keep it casual!!!

Tae: Could lead to… well you know… again ;)

Tae: I’ll even break the ice

Tae: ;)

Tae: Should be an interesting evening

Jungkook would look every once in a while and not dignify Taehyung with a response. Jungkook could feel Taehyung’s eyes also boring into the side of his head in anticipation. He was looking for that spark, maybe there was something much more going on here. 

After a little while, the wine was really getting to you. As well as your messed up sleep schedule making you fuzzy. Warm. You were watching Melanie talking about some trail her and Namjoon followed and got lost along as your attention was caught to Jungkook moving his hand to run through his hair. Settling it back down into his lap. It caught your attention for a moment and it felt like it moved in slow motion. Then without even realizing you were staring at his hands in his lap. 

He was fidgeting with his fingers. Probably mindlessly playing with them. Your mind began to drift though, because you know those hands now. You know they are much softer than they initially look. They were warm and strong. His fingers are long and slender, pretty even. Pretty in an artistic way, almost. A memory of them running all over your body imprinted on your mind. Being pulled to the surface. 

Almost too quickly you felt like your face was on fire. The memory coming in small flashes. A laugh to a messy drunken make out in a fluorescent bathroom. Your lips finding their way to his skin. Then being in his apartment and stripping down together. Then suddenly being laid back. First his fingers and and then his tongue painting you with pleasure. You could see his hands in your mind so clearly, then suddenly his eyes. Looking back at you, while he took you over the edge. 

You need to stop. You shook your head and adjusted in your seat almost too quickly. You cannot be thinking about this right now. What is wrong with you? It had to be the wine, you always got somewhat horny when you drank wine. You settled back into your spot, playing it cool. Your eyes danced around the room for a moment. Pulling yourself back down to earth. Keep it together, you are better than this. 

Your eyes glanced at Jungkook for one second. Not even trying to look but you caught him right as he was playing with his lip ring with his tongue. Forcing your eyes to look back to Melanie and the screen. 

Pay attention to the presentation. 

Your foggy conscience easily betrayed you though. This time, quiet and patient kisses in an elevator. Then a dark hotel room. An image of Jungkook standing above you saying please. Then him placed behind you, slipping himself inside–

You take in a sharp breath in through the nose. You begin to pick your own nails. Surely if you keep your hands busy you can keep your mind distracted. Yes you were a little tipsy and you were having flashbacks but you can fight this. Remember he’s gross, awful, and has said horrible things to you. He drives you insane. 

You will not let your tipsy mind flow to... Jungkook. 

You decided you needed to get some ice cold water. The pictures wrapped up, Melanie’s enthusiastic commentary dwindling to polite applause as everyone shifted back to casual conversation. You decided it was the perfect moment to escape, slipping away toward the kitchen with quick, deliberate steps. The quiet was immediate and welcome, wrapping around you like a shield.

Getting yourself a glass and getting some water from the sink. Sipping it quickly, letting the coolness slow your mind.

The reprieve didn’t last long.

You heard the floorboards creak and glanced up just in time to see Jungkook stroll into the kitchen. His presence was impossible to ignore. He didn’t look at you at first, but you felt him there, his every move trying to pull at your attention like a gravitational force.

Your grip on the glass tightened reflexively.

“Jungkook.” Your voice was flat, carefully devoid of emotion.

“Y/N.” He mimicked your tone, brushing past you to grab a glass of his own. His voice carried a teasing edge, but there was something else—something softer underneath.

The silence that followed was sharp and deliberate, the air thick with unspoken words. Jungkook could easily toss out some snarky comment to rile you up, it was practically his trademark, but he didn’t. Not this time.

Instead, he lingered, standing just close enough for the faint scent of his cologne to drift your way. Cedarwood, or something like that. It was annoyingly intoxicating.

You busied yourself with your phone, scrolling aimlessly. A quiet laugh escaped you at something you saw, but it felt too loud in the stillness, too revealing.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook finally broke the silence. “How are you?”

You blinked at your phone, unsure if you’d heard him right. Slowly, you glanced his way. “What?”

“How are you?” He rubbed the back of his neck, his movements almost shy.

“Why?”

“I’m making conversation.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what people do, Y/N. They talk.” His tone had a touch of exasperation, but his lips curled into a faint smirk. “Just answer the question. You’re not going to combust if you do.”

You hesitated, the urge to deflect warring with the odd sincerity in his gaze. “I’m good,” you said finally, though it felt like pulling teeth. “Exhausted, but good.”

“How come?”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to read him. Was this a setup? “I worked an overnight shift last night,” you said cautiously. “So my sleep schedule is all over the place.”

“Overnight shift, huh?” Jungkook turned to lean against the counter, crossing his arms as he studied you. “And you still showed up tonight?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “I missed Melanie and Namjoon. We usually crash here after these things.”

“Crash?” He raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at his lips.

“Yeah.” You smiled despite yourself. “Mel, Ash, and I take over Namjoon and Melanie’s room after too much wine.”

Jungkook let out a low laugh, the sound unexpectedly warm. “That explains it. Namjoon was muttering about an invasion yesterday. Makes sense now.”

You laughed lightly, the tension between you softening for a moment. “Yeah, invasion is probably accurate. If you and Taehyung weren’t here, the living room would already be in ruins.”

Jungkook moved then, stepping toward the sink to fill his glass. The motion was smooth, casual, but you couldn’t ignore how close he came, the heat of his body brushing against yours. The scent of his cologne floating your way one more time. You took a small step to the side, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.

He seemed to notice your shift but didn’t comment, his gaze flickering to you for a split second before returning to his glass.

You cleared your throat, your voice quieter than you intended. “How are you?”

Jungkook stilled, glancing at you with something like surprise. For a moment, he didn’t answer, his dark eyes searching your face like he was trying to decide if you meant it.

“I’m alright,” he said finally, his tone subdued. “Busy, though. I’m in the middle of a trial.”

“Right,” you said, nodding. “Lawyer stuff.”

A small, wry smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, lawyer stuff.”

“What kind of trial?” you asked, surprising even yourself.

He hesitated, as if weighing whether to tell you. Finally, he said, “It’s a class-action case. Workers suing their company for unpaid wages. I’m representing them.”

Your eyebrows lifted, genuinely impressed. “Wow. Didn’t expect you to be on the workers’ side.”

Jungkook tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.” You gestured vaguely. “Knee jerk reaction. I typically expect the worst from you. Most people would go for the big paycheck.”

A low chuckle escaped him, warm and deep. He couldn’t blame you for jumping to a conclusion after all these years. “Fair enough. It was the right thing to do though.” Jungkook rubs on his neck another time. You noticed it, he had done it a couple of times tonight. Almost like it was bothering him. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You tighten your eyebrows together, Jungkook’s eyes meeting yours for just a moment before darting away. 

“Oh,” He twists his neck trying to relieve the discomfort. “My neck is just hurting. I think I slept wrong.” 

“You could take something, or there are some stretches I know that can help.” You begin to look around the kitchen seeing if you can find some ibuprofen. Your hurriedness surprised Jungkook. Threw him off balance. 

“I already took something but didn’t seem to help. Still some pain.” His eyes tracked you round the kitchen as you continued your search. 

“Well I’ll show you the stretches then, grab a chair.” You exhale, nodding your head to one of the chairs at the dining table. 

Jung walked over and pulled one of the chairs out and took a seat. You hesitated for a moment before you stood right behind him. Your hands hovered hesitantly above his shoulders. What the hell were you doing? 

“Are you okay if I just do it… t-to show you how?” You say hesitantly. 

Jungkook doesn’t look back to you but finds himself rather… nervous even. Had you gotten him in the perfect position to actually just strangle you out? Were these his final moments? 

“Just don’t kill me… but yeah go for it.” He nodded, not looking back to you. 

“Okay. Just relax.” 

Jungkook feels you place one hand on his left shoulder, making sure his posture stays back and your other hand resting on the top of his head gently pushing it forward. Jungkook could feel a small pull in his neck stretching it out. The pain was on the right side so this was too bad. Your hand on his shoulder was touching some of the skin on his neck and it felt like it was burning into him. It was quiet, just your quiet breathing filling the room. 

“So you lean your head forward and then you roll your head side to side,” you murmured, guiding his head gently to the left Your voice was softer than you’d intended, the quiet of the kitchen making every word feel heavier.

Jungkook’s breathing hitched slightly, though you weren’t sure if it was from the stretch or the weight of your hand on his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and you realized with a jolt that your fingers lingered longer than necessary.

“You should feel a pull right along here.” You hovered for a second, but drew a line along his neck where the muscle was tense. Trying to focus on the task and not the way your voice seemed to tremble.

Your touch made Jungkook want to wiggle away from you. So light but almost electric. His mind drifted away somewhat, almost remembering last week but he kept himself grounded in the present.

“Yeah,” he replied, the pull was slightly painful but felt good. “It’s… helping.” His words were simple, but something about the way he said them made your stomach flip.

You adjusted your hand, sliding it to the other side of his head to tilt it gently to the left. “And this?” You kept your eyes focused on the wall now, You had already spent too much time looking… and thinking about his hands tonight. You didn’t need to think about his neck. 

Jungkook exhaled, a slow, deep sound that felt too intimate in the quiet space. “Better,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“It also helps to roll in circles slowly too. Trying to stretch those muscles as far as you can. You want to feel the pull.” You remove your hand, but keep them on his shoulders as he rolls his head around in slow circles. 

The kitchen, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead light, felt suspended in time. The sounds from the living room—muted laughter, clinking glasses, the occasional burst of louder conversation—faded into the background. It was just you, Jungkook, and the lingering ghost of your touch on his skin.

Your hands had rested on his shoulders longer than they should have. Neither of you had acknowledged it, though Jungkook had noticed. He couldn’t stop noticing. The weight of your touch, light but grounding, had felt entirely different from the energy you normally exuded around him.

Gentle.

It made his pulse quicken, a response he tried desperately to suppress. But his mind betrayed him, conjuring thoughts he had no business entertaining such as your hands moving from his shoulders, sliding down his chest, fingers tracing his jawline—

He swallowed hard, forcing himself back to reality. Because that feeling was there again, that small guilty twist in his stomach. What he had been telling Taehyung about bubbled up. He still couldn’t name it, because guilt didn’t feel right. It wasn’t that but it felt so strange. What was that?

Almost like the universe had heard his struggle, Taehyung appeared in the doorway, a wide grin already plastered on his face. His eyes scanned the scene quickly, locking onto Jungkook still seated and you standing just behind him.

“Oh my god it’s finally happening. Y/N is going to strangle you out!” Taehyung gasped and threw his hands over his mouth dramatically, “Y/N please spare him! He’s a good boy!”

You laugh to yourself, stepping back from Jungkook letting your hands fall away from him. The absence of touch is almost louder than the conflict itself. “I’m not strangling him,” you said, crossing your arms and giving Taehyung a look. “This time. Now roll your shoulders back.” you instructed Jungkook, stepping even farther away as if to reestablish boundaries.

Jungkook complied without a word, rotating his shoulders as you’d shown him. He tilted his head from side to side, testing the stretch. When his gaze flicked back to you, a faint smile tugged at his lips. “You’re good at this,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

“I do it for patients all the time, the hospital beds are notoriously uncomfortable.” You replied, shrugging as if it were nothing. Your arms stayed crossed, a subtle shield against the shift in energy between you. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It doesn’t feel like nothing,” he said, his words soft but lingering. His eyes stayed on you a fraction too long, enough to make your chest tighten and your cheeks warm.

Taehyung, clearly enjoying himself, stepped farther into the kitchen. His smile widened, but he kept his tone light. “What exactly were you doing?”

“I slept weird last night,” Jungkook interjected, standing up from the chair and adjusting it neatly back under the table. “My neck’s been hurting all day. Y/N was just showing me some stretches to help.”

Taehyung hummed, unconvinced. His gaze darted between you and Jungkook like he was piecing together a puzzle. “Right. Stretching. Sure.”

You decide this is your chance to escape out of here. You pick up your glass and exit the kitchen quickly to rejoin the others in the living room. The kitchen was quieter now that you’d left, though the tension you’d unintentionally abandoned seemed to cling to the air like static. Taehyung leaned against the counter, his grin infuriatingly smug as he watched Jungkook refill his glass of water, the younger man pointedly ignoring him.

“If I had shown up even a second later, you two would’ve probably stripped naked,” Taehyung said.

Jungkook groaned, turning his back on him to hide his flushed face. “We were only talking.”

Taehyung nodded sagely, his expression far too knowing. “Oh, sure. Just talking. Nothing else. Completely innocent. Two people practically pressed against each other in a dimly lit kitchen, having a totally platonic chat.”

Jungkook shot him a glare. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Of course I do,” Taehyung replied smoothly. “But it’s part of my charm. So, what was it really? A nice heart-to-heart, or were you two silently fighting like usual?”

Jungkook paused, his hand tightening briefly on his glass. “No… no, actually. It was just a conversation. Awkward, but… maybe the most normal we’ve spoken to each other in years.”

Taehyung’s grin widened as he pushed off the counter, his eyes alight with mischief. “Told you.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m always right and you know it.” 

“No you’re not.”

“She was sweet, though, wasn’t she?” Taehyung continued, his voice quieter now, his teasing edge softening. “Almost shy? Kind, even?”

Jungkook hesitated, his gaze fixed on the countertop. He hated how easily Taehyung saw through him, but there was no use denying it. “...Yeah,” he admitted grudgingly, barely above a whisper.

Taehyung clapped him on the shoulder, his grin shifting into something genuine. “See? Progress. Keep trying.”

Jungkook sighed, rubbing the back of his neck where your touch still lingered faintly. “Yeah. Easier said than done.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

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[benispunk]

Who's That Girl?

Chapter 11: A Night At The Center

Logan invites his roommates to a special event at the center. It's Y/N's first time meeting his colleagues and let's say they see right through whatever they got going on.

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W.

A/N: hellooo! as you can see, we are currently in my active era. here's the third chapter of the week and I kinda LOVE it because I just adore including every character ever (as I've done with Y/n's colleagues a few chapters ago—and don't worry they will come back). Laura and Marie 🫂🫂 hope you like this one!! there might be a bit too much dialogue but I love to talk so that's what you'll get unfortunately. see you on Christmas for the next chapter!! enjoy🫶

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist /Previous Part

The hall buzzed with energy, the sound of conversations and faint music filling the space as Logan led the way. Y/N walked beside him, her gaze flickering around the room to take in the lively atmosphere. Wade, however, was already making himself at home, spotting a familiar face across the room.

“Wilson!” called a man with red glasses, all the way across the hall.

“Summers!” Wade shouted, grinning as he jogged over to join him and a man in a wheelchair.

Y/N chuckled at Wade’s enthusiasm. “He seems to know his way around here.”

Logan gave a low grunt. “Yeah, he’s been to a few of these. Can’t say he blends in, though.”

They continued deeper into the room, weaving through clusters of people until they approached a small group at the center. A woman with striking white hair turned toward them, her warm smile lighting up her features. “Logan!” she greeted, her eyes flicking to Y/N with curiosity sparking in their depths.

“This is Y/N,” Logan introduced, his tone carrying its usual gruffness. “She’s my roommate.”

Ororo’s lips quirked in amusement as she extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard a bit about you.”

“Only good things, I hope?” Y/N replied, shaking her hand, the corners of her mouth lifting in a playful smile.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard one bad thing about you coming from him,” Ororo teased, casting a sly glance at Logan, who was now scowling faintly.

Y/N’s brow arched in surprise as her gaze shifted to Logan, but before she could say anything, another man joined the group. His solid frame and thoughtful expression gave him an almost scholarly air. “Hank,” he introduced himself, offering Y/N a firm handshake. “So, you’re the one keeping these two in check?”

Y/N laughed, shaking his hand. “That’s me. It’s nice to meet you.”

“She’s in charge of Logan and Wade? Poor thing,” Ororo quipped, earning a chuckle from Hank.

“Hey,” Logan muttered, crossing his arms, though a ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The conversation flowed easily, Ororo and Hank quickly making Y/N feel at home. Logan contributed in his typical fashion, his dry humor earning a few laughs.

“Logan always says we’re the worst,” Hank remarked, mock-seriousness lacing his tone. “But I think we’re growing on him.”

“Like fungus,” Logan deadpanned, and the group burst into laughter.

“Logan, be nice,” a new voice interjected, smooth and teasing. A woman with vibrant red hair approached, her green eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Jean,” Logan greeted, his tone softening just slightly.

Jean turned her sharp gaze on Y/N, her smile kind but shrewd, as though she were already peeling back layers. “You must be Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Jean, Scott’s wife.”

Y/N returned the smile warmly, shaking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Jean’s eyes flicked briefly between Logan and Y/N. She caught the way Logan’s stance subtly shifted closer to Y/N, his arm almost brushing hers, and the way his gaze occasionally darted to her when he thought no one was looking. It was telling, though Logan himself seemed oblivious. Jean didn’t comment, simply storing the observation away with a knowing smile.

“So,” Jean asked, “how are you finding all of this? It’s a bit different from Logan’s usual environment.”

“It’s great,” Y/N replied. “It’s nice to see his world outside the apartment. I didn’t realize how much he does here.”

Jean’s smile widened. “He won’t admit it, but he’s an important part of this place. The students adore him.”

“Jean,” Logan muttered, his voice holding a warning edge.

“It’s true,” she countered lightly, raising her hands in mock surrender. “You’re their favorite.”

Logan huffed, clearly eager to move the conversation along, but Y/N’s quiet laugh drew his attention. She seemed genuinely charmed by the new perspective on him, and that realization left him slightly off-kilter.

The group eventually dispersed, Jean excusing herself with a meaningful glance at Logan. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N. I hope we see more of you around here.”

“Likewise,” Y/N replied, her smile lingering as Jean walked away.

Logan leaned against a nearby wall, his gaze scanning the room. Y/N approached with a drink in hand, her expression soft and thoughtful.

“Ororo and Hank are already plotting to steal you away,” Logan remarked, his voice laced with dry humor.

Y/N laughed lightly, shaking her head. “I doubt that. Hank has incredible stories, and Ororo’s so kind. I can see why you like working with them.”

Logan shrugged, his gaze sliding to the side. “They’re alright.”

Before Y/N could respond, a pair of younger figures appeared nearby, carrying plates of snacks. Marie’s confidence was apparent as she grinned at Y/N, while Laura lingered slightly behind, her shyness evident in the way she held her plate.

“Mr. Howlett,” Marie began, mischief glinting in her eyes, “are you gonna introduce us, or do we have to guess who she is?”

Logan sighed, his arms crossing. “This is Y/N. She’s my roommate. Like Wade.”

Y/N smiled warmly at the girls. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

Marie stepped forward eagerly, shaking Y/N’s hand. “I’m Marie. And this is Laura,” she said, nudging the quieter girl forward.

Laura hesitated before offering a small, tentative smile. “Hi.”

“It’s great to meet you, Laura,” Y/N said, her voice kind and patient. “I’ve heard so much about both of you.”

Marie’s brows lifted. “Really? Mr. Howlett talks about us?”

Y/N chuckled, glancing at Logan, whose scowl had deepened. “Of course, he does.”

Logan grunted. “To complain.”

Marie laughed as Laura hid a small smile behind her plate.

Y/N turned her focus to Laura, her voice gentle. “Do you like it here at the center?”

Laura nodded, her tone soft but assured. “Yeah. It’s… different. In a good way.”

Marie grinned. “She’s the best here. Everyone loves her.”

Laura’s cheeks flushed, and she glanced down shyly. Y/N’s gaze softened. “I can see why,” she said, her sincerity shining through.

Marie leaned forward with mock seriousness. “But seriously, what’s it like living with Mr. Howlett? Does he secretly collect stamps or—”

“Alright,” Logan interrupted, his voice firm. “That’s enough.”

As the girls moved away, Laura offered a quiet, “It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Y/N replied, her smile lingering. She turned to Logan, catching the faintest warmth in his expression before he masked it.

“You’re good with them,” Logan murmured, his tone gruff but genuine.

Y/N met his gaze, her voice soft. “And so are you.”

Logan didn’t respond, but her words settled somewhere deep, leaving him feeling unsteady yet strangely content. He shifted his weight, trying to ignore the way her smile seemed to light up the room. He found himself studying her profile, trying not to dwell on the warmth spreading through his chest. 

He was so screwed.

———

Meanwhile, as Jean walked away, she headed straight for the corner where Scott, Charles, and Wade were deep in conversation. Her knowing smile returned when she saw Wade animatedly gesturing while Scott and Charles laughed.

“Oh, Jean!” Wade exclaimed dramatically, spotting her arrival. “Perfect timing, as always. We were just discussing the hot gossip of the night.”

Jean folded her arms, her eyebrow lifting in curiosity. “And what scandalous topic could possibly have you this excited?”

Wade leaned closer, his grin almost conspiratorial as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward Logan. “Someone over there is completely smitten with his roommate. It’s practically Shakespearean.”

Jean blinked, her lips twitching with amusement as she glanced toward Logan and Y/N, who were chatting with Ororo and Hank. “Is that so?” she asked casually, though her tone carried just enough intrigue to stoke Wade’s enthusiasm.

Scott nodded, an amused glint in his eye. “You saw the way he looked at her, right?”

“I did,” Jean admitted, her gaze lingering on Logan. There was something undeniably different about him tonight. His usual guarded demeanor was still present, but there was a subtle shift in how he stood—just a bit closer to Y/N, as though unconsciously tethered to her. “And I think you’re absolutely right.”

Charles chuckled softly, his voice cutting through their banter. “Logan doesn’t exactly wear his heart on his sleeve, but even he isn’t immune to certain… connections.”

Wade clapped his hands together. “See? It’s not just me! The whole room can feel it.”

Jean shook her head, a laugh escaping her. “You’re incorrigible, Wade.”

Before anyone could add more fuel to the fire, a heavy presence approached the group. Logan’s steps were deliberate, his expression unreadable, though the subtle clench of his jaw hinted at his growing irritation. His gaze swept over them, narrowing when he caught Wade’s exaggerated grin.

“Logan,” Charles greeted smoothly, his voice carrying a note of mischief. “What impeccable timing. We were just talking about you.”

Logan stopped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course, you were.” His dry tone earned a chuckle from Scott and Wade, but his attention was locked firmly on the latter.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Wade said innocently, holding up his hands as though warding off a scolding. “We were being very complimentary. For example, Scott here thinks you’re incredibly dedicated to your job. A real paragon of professionalism.”

Scott rolled his eyes, struggling to keep a straight face. “That’s not exactly what I said.”

“And Charles,” Wade continued without missing a beat, pointing dramatically at the man in the wheelchair, “he was just saying how wonderful it is that you brought your delightful roommate tonight. What was it again? A breath of fresh air?”

Charles coughed lightly, though the corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement. “Something along those lines.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed further. “Wade,” he warned, his voice low, “don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m just warming up!” Wade said, throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulders. Logan immediately shrugged him off, but Wade pressed on. “We’re all just so happy to see you finally… loosening up. And let’s be honest: bringing someone who’s not only smart and talented but also cute? Bold move, my friend. I’m impressed.”

“She’s your roommate too, remember?” Logan said, his eyes throwing daggers at the man in front of him.

“Is he wrong, though?” Scott asked with a grin. “Honestly, Logan, it’s like watching a rom-com in real life.”

“Fuck off,” Logan grumbled, which only made his companions laugh harder.

Charles finally intervened, holding up a hand to restore some semblance of order. “Alright, let’s not torment him too much. After all, Y/N might not appreciate us meddling in her life.”

“Oh, she’d love it,” Wade said confidently. “She’s got a great sense of humor. Unlike some people here.” He jabbed Logan in the ribs, earning another withering glare.

“Wade,” Logan growled, his patience wearing thin.

“Fine, fine,” Wade relented, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll stop. For now. But just so you know, I’m totally bringing this up later. We’re gonna have a great time.”

Logan sighed heavily, grabbing a drink from the table and muttering, “Not if I kill you first.”

As he turned to leave, Jean, who had been quietly observing, stepped closer. Her expression was a mix of amusement and sympathy as she addressed Logan. “I hate to say it, but I think you walked right into that one.”

Logan groaned, taking a long sip of his drink. “You’re all the worst.”

“Maybe,” Jean said lightly, her smile softening. “But we’re not wrong.”

Logan didn’t respond, instead fixing his attention on the drink in his hand. He didn’t need to look back to know the others were still grinning behind him. And as much as he hated to admit it, they weren’t entirely off base.

From across the room, his gaze landed on Y/N again, who was laughing at something Ororo had said. Her ease, her warmth—it was like a magnet, pulling him in whether he wanted it or not. For the first time in a long while, Logan felt like maybe—just maybe—letting his guard down wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

———

The evening was lively, the room filled with a hum of voices and laughter that seemed to echo the warmth of the event. Y/N stood near the refreshment table, drink in hand as she admired the space. Decorations hung with care, and every detail seemed to speak of the dedication behind the event. It was impossible not to feel the heart of the center here.

She was lost in thought, taking in the scene, when Charles approached.

“Y/N,” he greeted, his tone as composed as ever. “I hope the evening has been enjoyable for you.”

She turned toward him, a genuine smile breaking across her face. “It really has. Everyone’s been so kind and welcoming. And it’s amazing seeing how much this place means to so many people.”

Charles inclined his head slightly, the corners of his lips tugging into a faint smile. “It’s always a pleasure to see new faces here, particularly those who seem to appreciate what we’re striving for. Logan doesn’t often bring guests, so it’s nice to see you and Wade join us tonight.”

“Logan mentioned you’re a teacher?” He asked.

“Yes,” she replied, setting her glass down on the table. “I teach literature and creative writing at the high school level. It’s not always easy, but I love it.”

“I can tell,” Charles remarked, his gaze steady. “Your passion is evident. It’s a rare quality, and one that makes all the difference in this line of work.”

Y/N found herself smiling at the compliment, though she quickly redirected the conversation. “And what about you? How did you start this center?”

Charles’s expression softened, his gaze momentarily distant. “I founded the center with a dear friend of mine with whom I parted ways. It was born out of a simple yet profound need. I wanted to create a place where children who often felt out of place or overlooked could find support and a sense of belonging. Logan joined us not long after we opened in this building. He’s been an integral part of our work here.”

Y/N glanced across the room to where Logan stood, his posture relaxed but his attention fully on the students around him. His face, often guarded and unreadable, seemed to soften as he listened to them speak.

“He seems to really care about them,” she said, her voice quieter now.

Charles followed her gaze, his expression growing more thoughtful. “He does. More than he’d ever admit, even to himself.”

There was a pause, and Y/N sensed the shift in Charles’s demeanor. The weight of something unspoken lingered in the air between them.

“What is it?” she asked gently, her brows knitting together in concern.

Charles hesitated, then let out a soft sigh. “The center is struggling financially,” he admitted, lowering his voice to ensure no one else could overhear. “We’ve been trying to secure funding, but time is running out. If things don’t change soon, we may have to close before the end of the year.”

The words hit Y/N like a stone sinking in her chest. “That’s terrible,” she said, her voice laced with sympathy. “Does anyone else know?”

“Only Logan,” Charles said, his tone heavy with quiet resignation. “He’s been doing what he can to help, but there’s only so much one person can do. The rest of the staff and students will have to be informed soon, and it’s likely we’ll begin the process of finding alternative arrangements for the children.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered back to Logan, now leaning slightly against a table as Rogue and Laura animatedly chatted with him. Despite the lighthearted moment, she could sense an undercurrent of tension in his frame.

“How is he handling it?” she asked softly.

“Logan is resilient,” Charles said with a small, weary smile. “But losing this place will be… difficult for him. He’s put so much of himself into these kids, this community. It’s become a part of who he is.”

Y/N’s heart ached at the thought of Logan bearing the weight of this struggle alone. “Why hasn’t he told anyone else?”

“Logan doesn’t like burdening others,” Charles replied simply. “It’s one of his strengths, and also one of his greatest flaws.”

Charles’s gaze settled on her, his expression unreadable for a moment before he added, “If I may, Y/N, I’d ask a favor of you. Don’t tell Logan I’ve shared this with you— he wouldn’t take kindly to it. But if you can, keep an eye on him. He may need support, even if he’s too stubborn to ask for it.”

Y/N nodded, the weight of his request settling heavily on her shoulders. “I will. Thank you for telling me, Charles.”

He offered her a faint but genuine smile. “It’s clear you care about him, even if he may not realize it himself.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but chose not to respond. Instead, she said, “If there’s anything else I can do to help, please let me know.”

Charles inclined his head in thanks before excusing himself to mingle with others. Y/N stayed rooted to the spot, her mind racing with what she’d just learned. Across the room, Logan caught her eye briefly before turning his attention back to the students. She could see now, more clearly than ever, just how much the center meant to him—and just how hard it would be for him to lose it.

———

The night was winding down, the lively chatter from earlier fading into a quieter hum as guests began to leave. Near the exit, Y/N stood with Charles, finishing their earlier conversation about the ups and downs of teaching. Despite the challenges he described, Charles spoke with such calm and optimism that Y/N couldn’t help but admire him. She found herself wanting to help somehow, even if she wasn’t sure how just yet.

Their conversation was interrupted by Wade and Logan approaching, Wade holding up an empty cup like it was a prize. “Alright, team,” he said with his usual flair. “We’re heading out. Charles, as always, it’s been a pleasure.”

Charles chuckled and nodded. “Likewise,” he replied, turning back to Y/N with a warm smile. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N. I hope we cross paths again soon.”

“You too,” Y/N said sincerely. “And thank you for tonight.”

Logan gave Charles a short nod, his typical way of saying goodbye, before the three headed toward the door. They’d just stepped into the hallway when a voice called out.

“Wait!”

They turned to see Laura running toward them, weaving between the few lingering guests. She skidded to a stop in front of Logan, who crouched slightly to meet her.

“What’s up, kid?” he asked, his voice softening in a way that surprised Y/N.

Laura leaned in and cupped her hands around his ear, whispering something only he could hear. Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, then smoothed out, his expression hard to read. He glanced toward the room, where Y/N noticed a group of kids, including Marie, watching from a distance, giggling and whispering.

Logan straightened, clearing his throat. “Alright, I’ll see you Monday,” he said, his tone gruff but kind.

Laura grinned at him, then turned to wave at Y/N and Wade before darting back into the room.

“What was that about?” Wade asked, raising an eyebrow.

Logan shrugged, his face back to its usual neutral expression. “Just kid stuff.”

“Kid stuff?” Wade echoed. “Yeah, sure. Looked more like ���getting-red-in-the-face’ stuff to me.”

“I wasn’t,” Logan muttered, already walking toward the exit.

“You totally were!” Wade laughed, catching up to him. “Come on, spill it. What’d she say?”

“Nope.”

Y/N, walking beside Logan, smiled. “You’re being suspicious. Just tell us.”

“It’s a secret,” Logan said firmly, but there was the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Wade gasped dramatically. “A secret? Oh, now I have to know. Don’t think I’m letting this go.”

“Drop it, Wade,” Logan grumbled, quickening his pace.

“Never,” Wade shot back, practically bouncing with excitement as they stepped into the cool night air.

Y/N shook her head, laughing at their banter. As they walked home, she glanced at Logan and caught a rare softness in his expression. Whatever Laura had said, it had clearly stuck with him.

And though he didn’t say a word about it, her voice echoed in his mind: “You and Ms. Y/N look good together.”

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Witte Solstice - Chapter 24

Cover art by @leespinoodle.

Fic written by me (enchantedchocolatebars) and @leespinoodle.

Summary: It's winter in the Boiling Isles, and Caleb prepares to celebrate the solstice with his wife, his friends… and hopefully, with Beardo Philip! Philip swears he'll never partake in the satanic holidays of those demonic witches. But when Caleb invites him over for the solstice… maybe he'll find himself making an exception.

Ao3 version

"Yes," Philip hummed with great contentment as he set his feathered pen down.

The brunette began to examine his meticulously prepared plan that he had sketched out in his journal once more.

He was going to attend his brother's festive party, but not for the enjoyment of it.

He had a purpose for going.

And what was that purpose, exactly?

To prove a point.

As a small gag, the sketches on Philip's journal paper begin to be animated.

...

He'll arrive at his brother's cottage (Drawing Philip arrives at the cottage), and after knocking on the door (Drawing Philip knocks on the door), Caleb [hopefully] will answer it and allow him inside (Drawing Caleb answers the door and is elated to see his brother as he beckons him inside).

Once he's inside the cottage (Drawing Philip is now inside the cottage), he'll witness the witches partaking in their evil, degenerate Demon Realm traditions (Drawing Philip spots a pair of witches partaking in deviant holiday festivities and gasps in shock).

He'll show this to Caleb (Drawing Philip quickly rushes over to Drawing Caleb, who's happily talking to Drawing Evelyn and some of their guests, hastily grabbing his arm as he speeds over to the degenerate witches and shows them to him).

His brother will be so horrified and disgusted by this (Drawing Caleb lets out a gasp, horrified and disgusted by the heinous actions of the witches that he invited to his party), that he'll immediately end things with Evelyn (Drawing Caleb ends his relationship with Drawing Evelyn, causing her to whimper before she bursts out a waterfall of overexaggerated tears).

"Wahhh!!" Philip voices outside of the animation, mimicking crying for Evelyn as he chuckles.

Now with Caleb on his side, Philip and Caleb leave the party (Drawing Philip and Drawing Caleb leave the party together), but not before entrapping the witches who are inside the cottage and setting it on fire (Drawing Philip and Drawing Caleb entrap all of the witches who are inside the cottage).

(Drawing Caleb then pulls out his flask of fire oil and splashes it onto his now old house, setting it on fire.)

(After they smile at Caleb's handy work, as the witches inside the cottage scream out blood-curdling screams of pain while burning, the two walk away.)

The brothers will then go back to Philip's cave (Drawing Philip and Drawing Caleb go back to Philip's cave), and Philip will show off his portal to Caleb (Drawing Philip shows off his work in progress to Drawing Caleb, who's utterly amazed by it as his eyes sparkle).

They'll work on finishing the portal together, bonding while doing so (Drawing Philip and Drawing Caleb work on the portal and bond).

Once it's done, they'll enter it and return to Gravesfield (Drawing Philip and Drawing Caleb enter the completed portal together, and exit out of it in Gravesfield).

The two will then rejoice and hug each other as they return to their previous lives together.

Drawing Philip is pleased when Drawing Caleb finds a nice human woman to wed and supports the couple and their relationship.

Soon enough, he becomes an uncle.

...

After the animation ends, Philip continues to smile with confidence at his sketches.

His brother and their old lives would be restored on December 21st, and everything would finally be as it ought to be, without any witchcraft.

[youresodarkbabe]

you are the only ones who know (prof!a. turner x reader)

smut.

warnings: prof!al x reader, age gap, piv, al kinda dom, sad :(

word count: 679 (short n sweet)

hellooo i'm clearing out drafts / this one's inspired by @goblinontour and stems from convos i've had with @aacheinthejaw / can be considered as a slight continuation of my previous prof!al fic, heavy time skip though

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

three and a half glorious months in complete and total secluded secret. only you and alex knew, and that was your paradise. you guarded that treasure with your mind and soul. you both knew it was taboo, but neither of you could deny that it added to the thrill. from the first day you stepped into his lecture hall, his eyes were on you and you alone. long gone were the women he had been interested in before. it was only you now. forever you.

the way your voice rang out when you called for him. "professor?" you'd ask in the sweetest voice. sugar wishes it was as sweet as you, he'd often think.

your voice stayed just as sweet through these three and a half months.

"alex?"

beads of sweat framed your forehead like a crown. you looked like a princess to him in that moment. if he could forever immortalize the both of you in that moment, he would. he rolls his hips up into yours ever so slightly, pressing a kiss as soft as a feather to your collarbone.

"yeah?"

"is something wrong? did i do something?"

he lifts his head from the nook of your shoulder and looks up into your eyes.

"you could never, even if you tried."

"then what's the matter?"

"just keep goin' for me, yeah? there's absolutely nothing wrong, baby."

just as you were about to object and implore him to share his inner thoughts, he silenced you by slipping his thumb into your mouth. instinctively, your tongue swirls around it, sucking and biting until he pulls it away with a soft pop. before you can even gather the thoughts flowing around your head, his thumb flicks at your clit at a tender pace as your bounces grow faster. he knew you so well.

too well.

he knew you better than he should. and that dug at him, twisted at his innermost soul like a knife.

"al, al, alex, please.." you begged, clutching at his hand. your nails dug into his skin, making him wince. he finally stopped.

"what?"

"i can tell something's wrong." you kiss his collarbone, specifically, you kiss the mark that you left a week ago that seemed like it simply didn't want to leave. "tell me," you kiss higher and higher, along his neck and up to his chin.

"please?" you mutter, so close that your lips brushed his.

he hated making you feel like you did something wrong. he hated himself for it.

the first time he had made you feel this way, well, he could recall it like it happened seconds ago.

you had turned in a paper, a perfectly good one, only a day later than it was expected. and why? you were busy with him. fucking had never felt that blissful before. you arrived at alex's at 3:15 for lunch, cheerful and content, and you left at 7:45 the next day, even happier. however, when he next saw you, it was like everything had changed.

later that day, you wept to him at his flat. your cruel professor had been so harsh, and alex felt so bad. he knew that you thought it was your fault, when he knew it was his.

he began to resent himself, thinking he was ruining your life. he thought he could bury these emotions by spending time with you, but with every passing second in your company, he reached a conclusion.

alex, a man that had lived his youth thoroughly, was completely stealing yours.

he tipped his head back, resting on the headboard. he let out a deep breath, blinking his tears away.

"nothing's wrong, baby," he said with a smile, "don't worry at all."

you stared into his eyes for a quick second, before smiling yourself too.

alex's smile faltered. he knew you so well, so much better than you knew him.

you had ages to figure him out, though. if you stuck around. if you didn't leave him for someone younger, smarter, better.

and with that idea firm in his mind, he spiraled again.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

will see you guys in four months then ig

[t3acupz]

🩻🤍💉 Brownham Medwhump May 💉🤍🩻

6. Doctor turned patient

Will usually comes home at around 7 PM to make dinner for both of them but today Matthew wanted to surprise the older man with a home cooked meal. He had been planning it for the past couple of days, and he finally settled on a recipe he felt confident enough to attempt.

Before living with Will, Matthew would get takeout every night from one of the hole-in-the-wall restaurants that littered the street by his apartment. Since moving in a month ago, Will cooked all the meals. During the week he’d make Cajun inspired dishes for dinner, and on the weekends he would bring Matthew with him while he fished. The former orderly would silently sit by the side of the stream, and watch Will cast his line, in awe of the gracefulness of his technique.

After taking a few weeks off, Will decided to go back to teaching to keep his mind occupied on anything other than the incessant Chesapeake Ripper news cycle. He liked working with the FBI trainees, and giving lectures on topics that caused both intrigue and fear in the minds of the young hopefuls.

Earlier in the day, Matthew took Winston on the five mile long run to the closest mom-and-pop grocery store. Will offered Matthew his old, beat up Harley-Davidson that was stored away in his shed but after inspecting it, and deciding that Will was better at restoring boats than motorcycles, Matthew said he’ll just walk. He didn’t mind it, Wolf Trap was scenic and peaceful compared to his old life in Baltimore.

It was 5:30 PM, and the sun was starting to set. Matthew had almost two hours to cook the skillet French onion chicken with baby potatoes. The grocery store didn’t have a great selection of fresh meat or vegetables so he made do with what he could scavenge. He started boiling a large pot of water for the potatoes, and suddenly realized he was surrounded by the whole pack, their tongues drooling over the wooden floor and their tails eagerly smacking his legs in anticipation of any scraps. Matthew watched Will cook all the time, and the dogs would typically lounge by the warm fireplace. He realized how well Will must have trained them but they weren’t interested in taking any orders from the newcomer.

“C’mon pups, let me through.” Matthew chuckled as the dogs didn’t move at all. He resigned to just having to maneuver his way around them, careful not to step on their paws.

He threw the potatoes in the boiling water, and picked up one the onions. How hard could it be, he mused, observing the layers as grabbed one of Will’s kitchen knives. Within seconds of cutting into the onion, Matthew’s eyes started stinging. “Yeah, this is a little annoying,” He said out loud to no one in particular but all the dogs perked up. “And no, none of you are getting any onion scraps.” He glanced down at Buster who was whining right under his feet. “I don’t think dogs can eat them anyway.”

In an instant, the pack started barking, and Max, Will’s burly retriever mutt, bumped into Matthew as he ran after the others to the front door. With his eyes full of tears from the onion, and his feet losing balance, Matthew’s hand slipped, slicing his thumb a half centimeter down into the flesh.

“Hey guys!” Will cheerfully exclaimed as he rubbed the closet canine’s back, coming home more than an hour earlier. “The students had presentations today so I didn’t need to stay late to grade—” He dropped his briefcase on the floor in shock when he finally locked eyes on Matthew bleeding on the floor of the kitchen. Sensing something was off, the dogs became frantic, running back and forth between the entryway and the kitchen.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Matthew grimaced, as he tried and failed to stop the bleeding. “It’s just a little cut.” Will ran over to Matthew, and helped him to a nearby chair.

“Stay here, the first aid kit is in the closet.”

Blood was already pooling by his feet, reminding him of his murder tableau. Prior to now, he hadn’t considered how painful cutting flesh would be until he accidentally did it to himself. Hannibal must’ve really wanted to eat me for what I did to his wrists.

“Are you feeling faint?” Matthew shook his head as Will hastily brought out the isopropyl alcohol. “This will sting a bit.”

Will gently took Matthew’s hand, and slowly started pouring the antiseptic over his left thumb. Matthew shut his eyes, desperate to hide the pain. He didn’t want to inconvenience Will any further but nothing gets past the FBI profiler’s keen empathy.

“Look at me, Matthew.” Will commanded. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” Muttered the young man, looking away from his thumb in hopes that not seeing it would somehow lessen the pain. “I was trying to surprise you with dinner, and then you came home early, and the dogs got—”

“I should’ve called,” Will cut him off while wrapping Matthew’s hand in a clean towel as he applied deep pressure on the cut. “Have you ever gotten stitches before?”

“On my chin, when I was a kid.” Matthew motioned with his free hand to the thin scar that ran down from his lips to the bottom of his chin. “I don’t remember what the stitching felt like though.” He admitted, wondering if he lacked the memory because the pain was too much for his small body to process at the time.

Will took out the curved needle, and sterile suture thread and sighed. “You’re not going to like this.”

Matthew didn’t want to admit that he was enjoying every minute since Will came home. He loved seeing Will take control, and be the doctor this time. Matthew’s mind began to wander to that night a few weeks ago when he gave Will head. They hadn’t done anything more since then. He worried that Will wanted him to leave but was too anxious to admit it. The thoughts were interrupted by the piercing sting of the needle going in.

“You need to stay absolutely still for this part,” Will said, leaning in close so he can see the flesh wound better. Matthew nodded but he was starting to feel dizzy from the loss of blood. Will worked on his thumb, each time the needle went in, Matthew bit his lip. He was sure by now his lip was just as bloody as his thumb. “Almost done, just a little more.” Will assured him.

That was the last thing Matthew remembered before passing out, and falling to the floor.

“Matt! Matt! Wake up!” Will cradled the young man’s limp body in his arms. He felt Matthew’s forehead, a cold sweat had broken out on the younger man’s face. Shit, Will thought as he checked Matthew’s pulse, he must have lost too much blood while being hypoglycemic.

He felt Matthew’s head for any bumps, and carried him to his bed. “Shh!” Will glared at his pack, and they quickly hushed down with tails between their legs, and scurried over to the fireplace.

Will brought a cup of cold water, and a banana with him from the kitchen as Matthew began to stir.

“Will?” He groaned, rubbing his head where he landed on it moments earlier.

“You’re going to be okay, try to sit up and drink some water. I finished your stitches right before you fainted.”

Matthew slumped back in the bed in embarrassment. He ruined dinner, he bled all over the floor, and he forced Will to suture him after a long day of work.

“I’ll pack my things tomorrow morning, and be out of here by noon.” Matthew whispered, taking the cold glass of water.

“What are you talking about?” Will replied in confusion. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head too hard when you landed?”

“Ever since that night, you’ve not touched me again,” He took a small sip and continued. “I’m sure you feel like it’s too awkward to tell me to leave so I’m doing it for you.”

Will lifted Matthew’s chin up with his pointer finger and kissed him. After he felt Matthew’s body relax into him, he broke the kiss, and cupped Matthew’s flushed cheek. “I want you, Matthew Brown.”

Matthew felt the tears well up. “I—” Will kissed him again, this time with tongue.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Will whispered as his lips hovered over Matthew’s. “I’m not good at relationships.” He noticed Matthew’s ears turning redder than he’d ever seen them before.

“You look pretty cute when you’re covered in blood,” Will began lifting Matthew’s bloodied shirt over his head. “But it’s probably better if we get you out of these clothes.” Will threw the shirt on the floor, and pulled down Matthew’s bloodied sweatpants next. He ran a hand down Matthew’s hard abs, and slid it into the younger man’s boxers. Matthew gasped at the sensation, unable to stay sitting up anymore, he fell back on the bed.

Will stroked Matthew’s cock until it was hard and throbbing. “Do I want you?” Will asked playfully as he teased Matthew’s cock with his tongue, feeling him squirm in his grasp.

He gave Matthew a rough jerk that made the young man moan into the pillow. “Answer me.” Will instructed, waiting for Matthew to reply before he continued.

“Yes,” Matthew’s breath hitched as Will took his cock in his mouth, and giving it a long, hard suck.

“Yes what?” Will went up the length of Matthew’s cock with his flat tongue.

“You want me,” Matthew groaned, barely able to stay conscious. The pleasure was building, and he wasn’t too sure if Will thought this through but there was no way in hell he was going to stop what was currently happening.

Will pinched Matthew’s pert nipples, and ran his hands down to the enigmatic tattoos on his ribcage. He continued down to Matthew’s hips, and held him down as he bobbed his head, getting faster in accordance to Matthew’s breathing. Will knew that Matthew was getting close to finishing.

“Come for me,” Will commanded, sending Matthew over the edge. He jerked Matthew’s cock until the cum began to spurt onto his abs, caking them with the white liquid. “You did so good for me,” Will praised him, licking the bit of cum that landed on his fingers.

Will took the blanket and began cleaning Matthew. “Matt?” Will noticed that the young man was limp again. “Shit.”

After a few minutes, Matthew regained consciousness. “Oh god, did I pass out again?!” Matthew yelled, covering his face with his hands. Will nodded in amusement.

“I guess I’m that good, huh?” He teased, peeling the banana as he watched Matthew’s ears turning red again.

“Here, eat this, and I'll finish making dinner.” Will smirked, handing the young man the banana as he got off the bed, and headed towards the kitchen. “I’m sure those potatoes are beyond ready at this point.”

[nostalgia-tblr]

who can solve my plot/character problem in the sylki con artists au so that i can continue writing it

[rking200]

It's Sunday! A new chapter has found its way to The Red Room. Check it out to see why Connor acted how he did last chapter <3 Take a peek at @connor-sent-by-cyberlife's wonderful new render, and don't forget to check back later to show their post some love!

The Red Room (60070 words) by rking200 Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor Characters: Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Original Chloe | RT600, Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Elijah Kamski Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Stalking, Vomiting, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Hank Anderson, Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor is a Mess (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Missing Persons, Abduction, Manipulation, Death Threats, Mental Health Issues, Zlatko didn't do it, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Sex at some point Summary: Connor Stern is a law school dropout who dreams of making it big in the music industry. He manages to get into a special apprenticeship program with the musical genius Elijah Kamski and, despite working two jobs and struggling to stay afloat, feels like his dream is finally within his grasp. When Hank Anderson stumbles into the lounge Connor performs at, The Red Room, he becomes entranced with him. As Hank falls in love with Connor's voice, he ends up entangled with conflicting emotions and delicate situations. Slowly, his nights are filled with Connor's songs and his closeness, even if he feels he doesn't deserve it. They reach several roadblocks along the way of getting closer, some more dangerous than others. A collaboration written alongside Connor-sent-by-Cyberlife for the Reverse Big Bang 2024, told with a POV alternating between Hank and Connor. Chapters added weekly.

[cels-not-so-secret-love-affair]

falling to the music pt. 4 (jily)

a/n: we’re back again with jily because i am infested by brainworms. read on for marlene’s introduction, some little glimpses into what’s going on with remus and sirius (they’ll work it out, promise) and jily first kiss(es). p.s: the song the marauders cover is one of the boys by mott the hoople, and it’s a banger.

previous | next

Over the next good few days, the two of them text quite a bit. The habit just slips in, alongside her morning coffee and her nighttime skincare routine. James seems to be completely swamped with uni work, but still makes time for her, messaging her on his lunch breaks and phoning her up from the fruit and veg aisle in his beloved big Tesco’s to ask for her professional opinion on what he should prep for lunches that week. He sends her pictures of him brushing his teeth in his pyjamas at five o’clock in the morning, because he’s insane and likes to get up early, and she sends back photos of the sky in the evenings and her second (or third, or twelfth) latte that day. There’s a lot to learn about James. And, unusually in Lily’s experience, he seems to be equally as curious about her. He wants to know her favourite everything - colour, season, tv show, flower, music decade, sport. Then he wants to know why they’re her favourites, which prompts even more questions. It’s never an interrogation, though. He just wants to know.

Four weeks on from that first blinding meeting at the concert, then, and Lily is tucked up soundly in bed watching Criminal Minds on her laptop when a now-familiar notification lights up her bedside table. It’s James again - she can tell by the text tone. It’s different to her usual one. Instead of the normal chirpy sounding ping it’s a guitar riff, because she’s got a fucking crush.

James: hey lils?

Lily: Hi, James.

James: hello!

James: so i was thinking

James: we’re doing another gig soon, right?

James: and it’s a proper nice venue, i’m really excited about it

James: and i was wondering

James: if maybe you’d sort of almost kind of want to come?

James: you’d get all the friend of the band privileges and stuff, so you could turn up early (if you wanted) for soundcheck

James: and we could get you backstage too

James: oh and you could bring some friends if they’d want to come too

James: and everything would be free of course

James: drinks as well

James: idk, i just thought it would be nice to see each other so

James: is that like something you’d be up for?

Lily: Jamie, sweetheart.

Lily: I’ve been trying to send the word ‘yes’ since about six messages ago.

James: oh!

James: okay well yay!!

James: i’ll go grab the details and send them over then?

Lily: That’d be great :)

James: oh my god

Lily: What?

James: you just used a smiley face

Lily: Yeah? What’s wrong?

James: nothings wrong it’s just like

James: lily evans of proper punctuation and capital letters fame just used a smiley face

James: you would not believe how hard i am punching the air rn

James: i’m rubbing off on you ;)

Lily: Maybe so ;)

Lily: You two need to stage an intervention for me.

Marlene: hi lilsss

Marlene: bit extreme

Marlene: what are we supposed to be putting a stop to exactly?

Lily: Heterosexuality.

Marlene: oh okay in which case yes you’re correct and i am totally game

Mary: are we talking about james again x

Mary: lily sweetheart, you’re down bad 💗

Lily: I know, it’s awful.

Lily: However, would the two of you like to go out Friday night?

Marlene: fuck yes

Marlene: life is kicking my arse i need to get DRUNK

Marlene: tell me a time and place and i’m there

Mary: i’m free! x

Lily: Perfect!

Mary: where are we going? x

Lily: Right.

Lily: Promise you won’t take the piss.

Marlene: physically impossible, that

Marlene: but carry on

Lily: I may have just invited you to James’ next gig.

Mary: oh babes x

Mary: well at least it’s another chance for me to get a proper look at him

Mary: make sure he’s good enough for you 💋 

Marlene: tbf if there’s music and alcohol i’m happy

Marlene: and sure i’m curious about this guy and his band

Marlene: no piss taken on my end

Marlene: this time, we’ll see what i have to say once i’ve actually seen the bloke

Lily: I don’t deserve your kindness.

Friday whips around like a bullet, and before she’s even registered it Lily’s waiting anxiously outside of the venue in the cold, all dolled up and feeling vaguely nauseous. It’s not that she’s worried - Lily Evans is a confident woman, always has been and always will. A man is not about to muck that up for her. But he hasn’t responded to her text saying she’s there yet, and her friends are about to meet him, and it’s only her second fucking time seeing him in person which doesn't feel correct at all but that’s how it is apparently and blimey why is it so cold? But then she can hear a voice she’s most used to hearing over the phone, and suddenly things just seem to quiet.

‘Lily!’, comes James’ delighted cry as he jogs towards her from around the corner. His hair is messy as ever, and his eyes are creased up in that big beaming grin he wears so easily. Stopping in front of her rather breathlessly, he suddenly becomes awkward, hands fidgeting.

‘Sorry, I- I’m just realising we haven’t really, uh, done this… Could I give you a hug? Is that okay?’ Lily laughs, somewhat reassured by his obvious nervousness.

‘Sure, James. I’d like that.’ He pulls her into his arms then, and God she could just melt. He’s got the same cologne on from when they first met which of course means he smells practically edible, and his arms are strong and warm and comforting, and yeah, she could get used to this. But then he’s pulling away, and the cold that she had temporarily forgotten about begins to seep back into her bones with his absence.

‘Will you introduce me to your friends?’

‘Oh, yeah, sorry. Uh, James, this is Mary, Mary, James.’ James offers his hand to Mary, who shakes it and smiles appraisingly. ‘And then this is Marlene.’

‘Nice to meet you, Potter. I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘Nothing too bad, I hope?’, James laughs, leaning across to greet Marlene too.

‘Well, we’ll see,’ she replies, returning the handshake with a strong grip.

James takes them in through the side door - ‘Alright, Sean? Yeah, these girls are with me, thanks man’ - and through to where the rest of the band are hanging out. Sirius is laying with his head in Remus’ lap (whose long legs are dangling off the edge of the stage), staring idly at the ceiling and speaking softly so that Remus has to lean down to listen to him. They make a complimentary pair, and seem very at ease with each other. Peter meanwhile is sat behind his drum kit texting furiously, but he looks up when he hears them arrive.

‘Hiya James, hiya Lily! Hiya Lily’s friends!’

‘Dezzie still breathing, Wormy?’ Peter looks slightly shy, but nods anyways.

‘Yeah, she’s doing good.’

‘Glad to hear it! Come say hello, won’t you?’

‘Two ticks!’

‘Sorry guys, bloody impolite this lot.’ James smiles ruefully at the girls. ‘Oi Pads, Moons! Get off your arses and talk to our guests!’ At this, Sirius and Remus look up from where they’re sat together in the corner, pulled forcibly out of their conversation and back into the room.

‘Hey, it’s Magdalene!’, Sirius grins, scrambling up quickly and bounding over to them. He winks at Mary as he says hello to her, then turns to Marlene, but is interrupted just as he begins to speak.

‘Lesbian, mate. Don’t try it.’

‘Ah. Duly noted. Nice hair! Now, Mary, darling…’ Remus, looking slightly hurt after having been abandoned, hauls himself up to his feet and comes to greet them too. He introduces himself to Lily and Marlene (since Mary is in the middle of being distracted) and Lily realises with some surprise that it’s the first time she’s hearing him speak. He’s quite quiet, with a singsong sort of accent and nice clear vowels. She shakes his hand warmly and is reminded of her impression of him when he was playing his solo. Then Peter finds it within himself to put his phone away and also joins them in conversation. He’s somewhat awkward, looking to James whenever his voice falters, but Marlene asks him a few questions about the band and he begins to chat quite earnestly. James beams delightedly and leans in to speak in a low voice into Lily’s ear.

‘Your friends are nice.’

‘Yours aren’t half bad.’

‘It’s good to see you, you know. You look lovely.’

‘Thank you, Jamie. It’s good to see you too.’

The venue starts to fill up with the rest of the crowd about a half an hour later, and the girls are front row. It’s really exciting, actually. There’s that sort of pre-concert buzz in the air, the low thrum of anticipation that underscores the chatter and the indie rock music playing faintly in the background whilst people buy drinks. A few girls just behind Lily are scrolling through The Marauders’ Instagram page, the glow of their phones lighting up bright, curious faces in the dimmed room. It’s clear that they don’t really know the band, but as they look through their posts a sort of running commentary starts up. One girl likes Sirius, which of course she does, and speculates rather loudly and inappropriately about the possibility of fucking him. Another protests at this, declaring that James is clearly the hotter of the two - ‘Look at that man in this photo and tell me he isn’t fit as anything!’, she says, passing her phone over and wiggling her eyebrows. Lily smirks quietly to herself. Yes, he’s fit, she thinks. And he wants me. The feeling brings a slight heat up to her cheeks.

Her thoughts are soon interrupted by a round of applause as the boys take their places on stage, Sirius leading them on. There’s a short moment of fidgeting with leads and adjusting guitar straps, before Peter raises his drumsticks in the air and looks to Sirius for his approval. All is quiet. Sirius nods, almost imperceptibly. The sound of the sticks rings out into the hush of the room for four clear counts. Then, all hell breaks loose.

The concert is insane, to put it lightly. By the time it’s over, Lily reckons she’s sweated off about six litres of water, her mascara is slightly smudged underneath her eyes and her feet are killing her. There’s a dull ache in the back of her head that won’t go away and she’s painfully aware of the fact that she’s scheduled a nine am study session with Alice for tomorrow. She wouldn’t change a thing. When the worst of the crowd has dispersed, their excited conversation and loud peals of laughter drifting out of the room, she checks in with Mary and Marlene before beginning to head round to the side door. Both report that they thoroughly enjoyed themselves, with Mary gushing enthusiastically about The Marauders’ cover of ‘One of the Boys’ and Marlene conceding that yes, they were quite good actually. Lily smiles giddily at having earnt her seal of approval, mentally congratulating James for passing the test. It’s cold when they get outside. The night is sweeping and gorgeous as they step out into the street, all bright lights and rushing cars, and there’s a sort of breathless exhilaration in being at the centre of it.

Lily’s just about to knock when the door is pulled quickly open from the other side. The sudden absence of it surprises her, and she loses her balance somewhat, which sends her stumbling forwards a few paces. Stumbling straight into James, as it happens.

‘Hey, steady on, mate- oh. It’s you!’ Lily rights herself quickly, startled, and blinks rapidly at him, the tops of her ears tinged ever so slightly pink. James looks down at her rather fondly and cracks a broad, easy grin.

‘Sorry Lily. I didn’t mean to give you a fright! I thought you’d be, y’know. Further away.’

‘Don’t worry, just a bit… unexpected, is all. You were amazing tonight.’

‘Thank you! I tried to look in your direction as much as I could, but I think I lost track of you towards the end a bit. Did you have a good time?’ He directs the last part to the group, peering over Lily’s head at Mary and Marlene and raising a hand to wave at them good-naturedly. This seems to suddenly make Lily aware of their proximity, as she moves back a bit to join ranks with her friends.

‘Yes, thanks,’ nods Marlene, in response to his question. ‘You guys aren’t half bad.’

‘Cheers, that means a lot.’

‘Will Sirius be coming out?’, Mary inquires. Lily shoots her a look, but she simply shrugs her shoulders and waits unabashedly for a response. James becomes awkward.

‘No, sorry, I don’t think so. He’s a bit, uh… occupied.’

‘He’s snogging Remus,’ yells a disembodied voice from beyond the doorway. It soon reveals itself to be Peter, who claps a hand on James’ shoulder and acknowledges the girls with a quick smile. ‘Quite thoroughly, actually’, he adds, matter-of-factly.

‘Oh. I didn’t know those two were an item,’ says Mary, looking a bit put out. James sighs, and rubs a hand across his forehead.

‘They’re not together, technically, it’s- it’s complicated. Did you really have to rat them out like that, Wormtail?’

‘It’s in the name, Prongsie-boy, it’s in the name.’

‘Yeah, well, anyways. Forget that. How are you ladies getting home? D’you need a lift?’

‘No, thank you, Jamie,’ Lily replies. ‘We can make our own way home just fine.’

‘You sure? I really wouldn’t mind, it would be my pleasure.’

‘The bloke’s offering, Lils. May as well take him up on it - especially if it’s a pleasure,’ presses Marlene, arching an eyebrow and smirking at her in a way that few would consider subtle. Lily pokes her tongue out back, but relents.

‘I mean, it would be useful, so long as you’re absolutely sure it’s no trouble.’

James’ car is nice; the kind of nice where you’re scared of getting in with mud on your shoes and it appears whoever designed it had an intense phobia of colours and non-curved objects. Heated-seats-nice. That bit’s pretty bloody lovely, to be fair. James, however, doesn’t seem to notice that it’s nice, and flops into the driver’s seat without a care in the world, slamming the car door and swivelling round in his seat to grin at the girls.

‘Chauffeur James, at your service. Where are we going?’

They drop off Mary first, since her house is pretty much on the way to Marlene and Lily’s. She thanks James for the ride, says her goodbyes to both her friends and disappears through the front door with a flurry of shouts about meeting up again soon as she blows giggling kisses over her shoulder. James’ eyes crease up amusedly as he watches her go. Then Lily taps her and Marlene’s address into the sat nav, and off they go again, cruising steadily past streetlights and takeaway places. Inside the car is pleasantly warm and the world outside seems to dissolve into a dreamy blur of softened shapes and colours. It’s nicer than public transport, Lily is forced to admit to herself. She watches James’ relaxed manner as he drives, smiles sleepily to herself and enjoys the soft, safe feeling that has begun to cradle her chest. Home comes far too quickly.

‘Here we are,’ James announces rather uselessly to the inhabitants of the house he’s just pulled up in front of. ‘Give me a minute, I’ll come round and open the door for you guys.’ He does as much, and Lily and Marlene get out, forced to sacrifice the warmth of the car for the brisk chill of the night outside it. Lily is distantly aware that this is her cue to say goodbye and go inside. This understanding hasn’t seemed to translate to her limbs just yet though, because she’s making no effort to actually walk towards the door. Marlene looks at her friend, then at James - who’s practically her mirror image opposite her - then sighs in a way that suggests she’s tired of being stuck in the middle of them.

‘I’ll be in my room if you need me, Lils. Have fun… standing.’ Lily blinks, then nods slowly.

‘Sure. I won’t be long.’

‘Yeah, okay. Thank you, James, for the lift and the night out. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you again so, until then.’ Marlene waves at him, and departs.

‘So. This is your house. This is where we… part ways for the night, yeah?’ James says once she’s gone. He’s looking at Lily with big eyes like a rather mournful puppy, which is a fairly accurate representation of how she feels about having to say goodbye too.

‘I guess. We can chat for a bit though, can’t we? I know I’ve been watching you on stage all night, but I feel like I haven’t really seen you.’

‘Sure, yes, perfect, love that. Chatting. Hi!’ Lily covers a laugh with her hand and looks down at her feet.

‘Hello, Jamie,’ she replies, composing herself just enough to look him in the eyes again. Her cheeks ache from smiling.

‘You know you’re one of three people in my life to call me that?’

‘Am I really?’

‘Mhmm. It used to be just Sirius and my mum, but now it’s Sirius, my mum and… you. It’s weird.’

‘Should I stop?’

‘No, no, absolutely not. I like it. I like being Jamie to you.’ James’ voice is soft and shy.

‘Okay.’ Lily stares at him again awkwardly, lost for what to say to prolong the conversation but still not wanting to leave just yet. They’re both just smiling at each other quietly like giddy children.

‘Oh, you know what? To hell with it!’, Lily says suddenly. Then, with a business like tone and all in one breath: ‘James Potter, I have had a very nice evening and I think I should like to be kissed goodnight to round it off. Do you feel the same?’ James’ eyes widen a fraction as he processes, then flick to her lips. He takes a step closer, closing the gap that Marlene’s departure created, and brings a gentle hand up to cup her face.

‘Yes. Yes, I think I do,’ he says, before tilting his head and leaning in to kiss her sweetly. It’s a short kiss, tentative and caring, but when they pull apart he’s breathless from nerves. Lily grins at him.

‘Alright there?’

‘Yeah, uh… yeah. Glasses.’

‘What about them?’, asks Lily teasingly.

‘Not very conducive to kissing you properly.’

‘Well, we can’t have that. Kissing me properly is very important. Want me to take them off for you?’

‘Yeah. Yes, please. God, my brain’s gone to mush.’

‘I sometimes have that effect.’ Laughing, she removes James’ glasses, taking care not to poke him, and folds them shut. ‘That better?’

‘Much,’ James affirms, wrapping his free arm around her waist and pulling her into another kiss, this time deeper and more confident. Lily hums with approval, and reaches up to tangle her hands in his hair. Making out with James exceeds expectations, she finds, and a dizzying euphoria takes over her as he walks her backwards so that she’s up against the car. The two of them get lost in each other for a while. They fit easily together, exploring and enjoying each other with pleasant curiosity. James treats her tenderly, going slow and generally following her lead. Lily, for her part, has been thinking about this ever since James first got up on that damned stage, and very much intends to make the most of it. But then he’s hesitating, and breaking away from her, which is bloody unfair because they were just getting started, and he’d better have a good reason for this because all she really wants to do right now is to continue snogging him senseless. She leans back against the cool metal of the car with her arms crossed and peers at him inquiringly.

‘Lils… don’t get me wrong, this is like the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I am absolutely on cloud nine right now… but it’s, uh, it’s late. You told Marlene you wouldn’t be long, and I don’t want her to worry or anything. I’m sorry.’ Lily stares up at him and his sweet, sincere little face and finds herself simultaneously irked and endeared by him. Ugh. Curse him and his gentlemanly ways.

‘Yeah, that is true. God, you’re too nice for your own good. If you didn’t remind me about that we could have fucked in your car.’ James’ mouth falls open with a flustered expression. Lily snorts. ‘It’s fine, you can just dream of me for the time being. Save the sex for another day.’

‘Wow. Um, okay. You know Lily, you don’t make it easy for respectable blokes like me.’

‘That’s ‘cause it’s more fun,’ she giggles cheekily, tapping him on the nose. ‘Right. I’ll be off then. Thank you for my goodnight kiss - or kisses, actually - and text me when you’re home, okay Jamie?’

‘Of course. Goodnight, Lily Evans.’

‘Goodnight.’

[whatudottu]

Ever since making my human Shockwave design, both my original one and this one, I've been thinking of what arm he would have because even if you have access to a cannon arm as a human it's logical to have a functional arm prosthetic maybe idk-

An extra ever since after reading @nukeli 's SG Shockwave fic I've also been thinking of human Shockwave having a donor arm like what happens in the oneshot, it being mismatched because though demand is high supply is very very low and replacement body parts don't last-

[cabeswaterdrowned]

haven’t aftgposted in a hot minute but I do want to say that now I’ve had some distance from hyperfixation I can say that I think the most interesting/captivating relationships from it to me in order are Kevin/Andrew, Andrew & Nicky, Andrew & Renee, Andreil and Renee/Dan

[irondad-defensesquad]

Tony kneels in front of Peter, whose gaze is miserable.

“Hey,” the former beckons. “Is there anything that could help you feel better? Even a little? Can be anything at all.”

Peter shows that he’s thinking of an answer. For now he doesn’t look at Tony, but he slowly analyzes the environment around them. Peter is holding his own hands. Tony may find the slightly oversized sweater adorable in him, even if the kid isn’t looking so sharp right now.

“... my room,” the latter mumbles.

“Hm?”

Peter looks ashamed. “I hate how my room looks right now. It’s… bothering me so much.”

“We can fix that.”

The teen doesn’t look entirely motivated.

“I can tidy it up–”

“Mr. Stark, don’t.”

“I don’t mind, kid.”

“Yeah, but it’s my room, I should’ve cleaned it forever ago. That’s not on you.”

Tony’s smile might falter a bit. “Well, I can do what I want, and you can’t stop me,” he jokes.

That at least makes Peter smirk. “Yeah, sure.”

Tony helps get all the clothes thrown around, handing them to Peter so he knows where to put them. Tony then organizes his school material, and he can’t help but see the tiny doodles Peter drew of Iron Man and Spider-Man. Tony grins.

Finally, Peter picks the broom to remove most of the dust on the floor. He does it slowly. Tony handles his desk overall.

Peter suddenly stops moving.

Tony looks at him.

The boy drops the broom as he finally starts crying.

“Hey, hey…” Tony rushes to him. “It’s okay.”

“I’m so tired, Mr. Stark… I c-can’t–”

“Shh, it’s okay. You did great,” Tony guides him to bed. “You did great, Pete.”

“I’m sorry I’m…” Not good enough. I’m a mess. I’m a burden.

“It’s okay. It’s okay…” Tony repeats it as many times as he needs, whilst rubbing Peter’s back.

After many quiet sobs and sniffs, Peter shyly looks up.

“... Thanks,” he whispers.

Tony smiles sadly. “No prob, Bob. Now you rest, okay? I’m getting you a reward later.”

Peter chuckles. “What kind of reward?”

“A tasty one.”

“Does it involve ice cream?”

“Absolutely.”

“Awesome.”

Peter watches Tony get the broom and do the rest of the cleaning. His puppy eyes are still growing deep. He looks so small, especially in the sweater and the blanket. He looks huggable.

“... What?” Peter notices Tony staring at him every now and then.

“You. You’re impossibly cute.”

Peter frowns. “No, I’m not…”

“If you look at yourself in the mirror, you would want to cocoon yourself, too.”

Peter scoffs. “Maybe you got too much dust in your eyes.”

Tony smirks and finishes the job. He orders some Ben & Jerry’s – four only for Peter. He wanted the Avengers flavors.

Peter eats silently. Tony sticks with him. The TV is their only conversation.

The kid might not show the same appetite as a mutant teenage boy’s, but he does look a little better. His cheek is dirty with a few chocolate chips.

Tony snorts, taking a napkin. “You baby.”

Peter protests. “Hey…”

Except neither of them stop the action, and Tony is pretty careful with it.

They gaze at each other with full attention.

Until Tony squeezes Peter’s cheek.

“Mr. Stark!!!” The latter yells. “I’m gonna get ice cream on you!”

Tony hasn’t laughed this much in quite a while. Turns out he needed to cheer up, too.

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting invites four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, Trevelyan has someone she'd like to impress.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 3,848. Rating: all audiences, bar a few swears.)

Chapter 42: The Ball

The Great Hall was adorned in its finest, the banners of the Inquisition unfurled. A quartet played upon the dais, the floor before them awaiting its dancers. Attendees of every strata—advisors, digintaries, mages, soldiers—exhibited their most exquisite attire, anticipating the arrival of their guests of honour.

The door thundered open. A herald announced their names:

“Presenting! Lady Erridge of West Coldon, Lady Samient of Samient, Baroness Touledy of Val Misrenne, and Lady Trevelyan, of Ostwick!”

The Ladies strode in, none finer than they. Lady Erridge wore her pinkest, most ruffliest dress yet; Lady Samient wore her tightest, of dark, snakish leather; the Baroness wore her most glamorous, a gown in deep and passionate red—with a mahogany cane to match, of course.

Trevelyan entered last of all. The ballgown she wore? Unrecognisable.

The black brocade was gone, the lace ripped from its seams with wicked delight. All that remained was perfect canvas of purest navy, onto which it could be painted—with shining, silvery thread.

Her mother would’ve fumed at the very idea. But what good was learning embroidery, if one did not use it in defiance? Each Lady had taken up a quadrant of her own, yet the stitches they had sewed were all the same: dozens upon dozens of tiny, shimmering, stars.

Trevelyan sparkled with every step. Diamonds glittered around her neck, lent eagerly by the Baroness. Every candle’s flame glistened upon her. Even the night sky could not compare.

Were it not for the musicians, the room would have been stunned to silence. Whispers of admiration made their circuit. Trevelyan drank in the praise, striding through the parting crowds. They led her to the foot of the dais, where the Ladies had gathered, and where an elegant figure—clothed in blue and gold—stood tall. With little more than a smile and a gesture, Lady Montilyet brought the room to a hush.

“Friends of the Inquisition!” she proclaimed. “Thank you for attending! If I may, I wish to propose a small toast, to some of our departing guests.”

She raised her glass. “A toast to Lady Erridge and Lady Orroat, to the union of your families and of Coldon! A toast to the Baroness Touledy, for victory in Val Misrenne! And a toast to Lady Samient, for her safe journey home!”

Glasses and steins clinked together, accompanied by a hearty cheer.

“But to Lady Trevelyan of Ostwick,” Montilyet continued, “we do not say farewell. Gathered friends, may I please introduce you, to our new Arcanist!”

Applause went up, echoing off the walls, and filling the room with joy. Trevelyan laughed in delight, and caught glimpses of her friends amongst the crowd. Varric clapped, Dorian hollered, and even Sera cheered—though none were as enthusiastic as Dagna herself!

Still, there was one face she could not quite find.

“Tonight, we celebrate!” Montilyet declared. “So please, enjoy!”

The band launched into triumphant fanfare; good humour and good company were the orders of the evening. The Ladies, all aflutter, went about these goals with giddiness and verve.

“Won’t you come dance?” asked Erridge, having already recruited Lady Orroat to her cause.

Trevelyan startled, her attention elsewhere. She stumbled and stammered over her excuses. “Oh! Later, perhaps? There’s something, I, um...”

Lady Samient picked up on her meaning, and picked up her slack. “Come, Lady Erridge! I’ll dance with you.”

Appeased, Lady Erridge escorted her away. Trevelyan withdrew from the dancefloor.

She could dance another time. She did not wish to muss her hair or catch her skirt. Her eyes scanned the party. Her fingers trembled. The moment he saw her had to be perfect.

A hand caught her shoulder. The Baroness, apparently having already procured a drink, leant over, and tilted it forward.

“There,” she whispered.

The crowd parted, as if by her will. True to her word, at the other end of the room, there he stood. The man she’d been searching for.

The Commander.

Maker, he had only become more handsome the longer she had known him. That rough-hewn jaw of his, and the dishevelment of stubble upon it; the subtle waves in his hair, hints of his rebellious curls; those dimples upon his cheeks—the thumb-prints of the divine, left where the Maker’s scultping hand had gone astray.

And his weary eyes, whose gentle gaze found her, and drew her closer.

Trevelyan admired, as she approached, the coincidence of the navy blue doublet that Lady Montilyet had undoubtedly advised him to wear. Hm. She liked him better in red. Suited him more, perhaps—though it mattered little. There was nothing that could dull the shine of him; true gold, after all, did never rust.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as he straightened to greet her. And he would have done so, perhaps warmly, perhaps sweetly—had a scout, uniformed and on duty, not appeared at his side.

Ah, fuck.

They whispered something to him beneath the hubbub of the ball, which sharpened back into focus. Though Trevelyan heard nothing of the Commander’s reply, when his attention returned to her, his smile was gone.

“Arcanist,” he said, with a bow. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. There is urgent business to which I must attend.”

Bloody typical.

“Of course,” she told him, magnanimously. “Duty calls.”

“At inconvenient times,” he muttered.

“No duty is ever convenient,” she commented. That seemed to amuse him, at least.

“I will return as soon as I am able, I assure you.”

“Yes, Commander.”

She curtsied to him, and allowed him to depart. The scout lingered by the rotunda door; the Commander followed them through.

Gone.

Trevelyan looked down at her pretty, sparkly skirt, and fluffed it up, pointlessly. Not quite the moment she’d been hoping for.

Oh, well. She would have ample opportunity for such moments with him in the coming days. If he didn’t get called away by something or other during those, too.

Stowing her frustration, Trevelyan returned to the party. There was plenty there to distract her, anyway. She watched the Ladies dance together; she enthused with Dagna about their work; she spoke to Lady Montilyet about her new quarters (ready tomorrow!); and she gossiped with Dorian about absolutely nothing of note—though he was, as always, terribly good conversation.

Yet still no Commander.

The noise of the music and the chatter and the stomps of the dancing were beginning to blur in her brain. Dorian noted her change in temperament, as she attempted to peer through the garden door from afar. Too many in attendance; the party had spilled out into it. It was no less busy out there than it was in here.

“Try up there,” Dorian suggested, indicating the mezzanine above. It seemed Sera had been banned from it today, as there was no skulking to be seen. “It has a balcony, if you need some air.”

“Thank you,” said Trevelyan. She’d had little cause to ever stray up there before—but this seemed as good a reason as any. She bid him farewell, and escaped up the stairs.

The moment she reached their peak, her troubled mind calmed. Mere feet above the chaos, the music came quieter, the conversation nothing more than ambience. Thank the Maker.

Besides, this mezzanine was well-furnished for a somewhat hidden space, with a luxurious chaise and portraits of figures Trevelyan did not quite recognise. The candelabrum here were not lit, leaving all illumination to that of the moons, whose glow trickled through a pair of glass doors—beyond which, as promised, was a balcony.

But Trevelyan felt enough at ease to stay inside—and she found the view of the party below to be quite of interest. The dancers weaved such wonderful patterns; outfits, in all colours, were arrayed like a painter’s palette. She could watch, as those she knew flitted from one group, to another. An enjoyable pict—

The rotunda door opened, drawing her eye. The Commander entered the hall. He strode into the party with such determination, it was as if it did not exist around him. Trevelyan traced his path as it led him, direct, to the Baroness.

They huddled against a wall. He whispered something. Urgent business? Oh, no.

But the Baroness smiled. Wider and wider. She asked him a question; he replied with nod. She placed a hand over her heart, and sighed. Trevelyan did the same.

If the news they shared was what she hoped, then she was rather glad she hadn’t kicked up a fuss at the Commander’s departure. Because if it was what she hoped, then he could have left all night, and still she would smile.

Maker, she had to see the Baroness—and she would have, if not for the feet hurrying up the stairs. The Baroness? No cane. Then—!

The Commander sprang onto the landing, startling himself as much as he startled her, determination abandoning him in an instant. “Arcanist!” he stammered, attempting to bow. “Forgive me—Dorian told me you were here.”

That crafty bastard. Trevelyan put his schemes aside, and asked, “Is everything all right, Commander? What was your urgent business?”

Before he’d even said a word, he smiled. That alone brought her relief. “There was a message from the Inquisitor,” he told her. “The battle is won. Val Misrenne is safe.”

Trevelyan could scarcely believe it. She clasped a hand over her mouth, a beaming smile beneath it. She shook her head, out of sheer incredulity. By Andraste. She could not fathom how dear Touledy felt.

“Thank the Maker,” she breathed. “Or, I suppose—thank you, Commander.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think it is the Inquisitor’s party and the guard of Val Misrenne who ought to have the credit of it.”

“Of course, but you may take a little as well, Commander. Your handling of the situation was… impressive, to say the least.”

Such a compliment did not seem to sit well with him, for he stuttered as if he had not the words to form a reply. Awkwardness prevailed, until his fortunes changed, and his eyes chanced upon the balcony doors.

“Forgive me, I didn’t meant to disturb you. Were you… headed outside?”

Trevelyan smiled. She looked at them, then at him. “Preferably not alone.”

“Oh. I could...”

She backed into the doors, her eyes beckoning him to follow. He trailed after her as if in a trance, stepping through, to the tranquil night beyond.

The stars above shone in greeting, illuminating the finely-carved stone of the balcony balustrade. Trevelyan rested herself upon it, gazing out. The Commander’s presence, a warmth in the absence of the sun, settled beside her.

“It’s... a nice night,” he said.

She quite agreed. The entire courtyard was laid out before them, from the tavern—as lively as the party they’d left behind—to the stables—quiet, at this time of day. Moonlit stone, punctuated by glowing torchlight, encircled the fortress, and banished the darkness from its embrace.

“I, ah, have something for you,” he said, hand fumbling within his jacket. “I believe this is yours.”

He managed to locate this ‘something’, and freed it from its concealment. A white cloth, that flashed in the moonlight, embroidered with leaves Trevelyan recognised. It was far more pristine than the last time she’d seen it.

The napkin slipped pleasantly from the Commander’s fingers into her own. She noted the warmth of his proximity, still lingering within the weave, and the sweet, earthy scent that had been left by his possession.

“Technically,” she teased, “I believe it is Lady Montilyet’s.”

“I hardly think she’ll miss it.”

“I certainly hope so.” She tucked it away—safe. “Thank you, Commander.”

“Thank you for the use of it,” he said. “Though, speaking of Lady Montilyet—you, ah, took the offer. To become Arcanist.”

“I did.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

The Commander stammered, “For you—I mean. I mean, I am glad. That—despite how you came to be here—you have found enough reason to stay.”

Trevelyan shook her head, and smiled. “I know that I ought to have left, and truly have started my life afresh… but that would have been dishonest, to what I truly want.”

“May I ask… what is it?”

“What?”

The Commander met her eye. “That you… want?”

She bit back the smile that threatened to betray her. “Well… I suppose there is one thing—”

Feet clattered up the stairs. Trevelyan stopped herself. As if she were summoned by these precise circumstances, Lady Erridge stumbled out onto the mezzanine.

“Lady Trevelyan!” she called. “Oh, Commander, there you are! Sorry to disrupt, but I came to see if you should like to dance!”

The Commander shook his head. “No, thank you. I don’t dance.”

Erridge giggled. “I know! I wasn’t speaking to you, Commander! Come, Lady Trevelyan! The Commander shall have plenty of time to whisper with you when we are gone!”

Though the interruption was not exactly ideal, Trevelyan could not deny the sentiment. She curtsied to the Commander, somewhat apologetically.

“It seems I am summoned away. Urgent business, I believe they call it.”

His mouth tilted into a smirk; it made her skin tingle. “Another time, then.”

“Of course.”

Raucous music caught their ears, and Erridge perked. “Come along!” she said, snatching up Trevelyan’s hand. She threw a hasty farewell to the Commander over her shoulder, and whisked Trevelyan away. They tumbled down the stairs together, bursting onto the main floor of the hall—as the band cued a jig.

“Over here!” called Samient and Orroat, from the dancefloor. In the absence of Lady Erridge, they had partnered together—but saved a spot beside them, just in case.

Trevelyan and Erridge squeezed past the other dancers, and hurried to take it. They joined hands—properly, this time—and waited for the song to start, giggling all the while.

Strings and wind erupted into a prancing melody of alternating highs and lows, and caught them quite off-guard. But Lady Erridge sprang to action, and Trevelyan followed her lead. They bounced around the floor with zest and zeal, clapping their hands, kicking their legs into the air. Skirts clashed and flew, an explosion of fabric and colour.

It burst apart, into an exchange of dancers. Trevelyan sailed into the arms of Lady Orroat, who cut as fine a form as one could expect.

“So this is what you were all up to yesterday?” she said, of Trevelyan’s dress. “Maker, it’s beautiful!”

Though the compliment was quite routine, a look of panic struck the passing Lady Erridge. “Look, dear Orroat!” she called, loosing a hand from Samient’s, to jab her finger at some collection of stars. “I sewed those ones!”

Dancers parted again, to what must have been Erridge’s utmost relief. Trevelyan swapped Orroat for Samient, the latter of whom smiled as if amused.

“It seems dear Erridge has quite reversed her position on your knowing Lady Orroat,” she whispered.

Trevelyan giggled. “Good, for I could hardly say we should make such a handsome couple as they!”

Nor one so well-suited. It seemed the touch of her dear Orroat’s hand had quelled Lady Erridge’s worry in an instant, and the pair twirled and danced so pleasantly to the eye, it made Trevelyan miss a step. Samient ably accounted for the fumble. It was a wonder how she danced so well, in a dress so constricting. Then again, it was a wonder how this was Trevelyan’s first stumble, in a dress so grand.

Though their jig came to an end, another began—and Lady Erridge would not be satisfied with just the one! Trevelyan was made to dance the next three complete, until—quite exhausted—she formulated an excuse, and made her exit.

The sight of the Baroness at the edge of the dancefloor was quite welcome, as if safety and anchor in a storm. Trevelyan hurried towards her, and greeted her with a smile and an embrace—for which they both knew the reason.

“I’ve heard the news,” she said, as she recovered her breath. “How do you feel?”

The Baroness sighed. “Relieved. When I leave for my home tomorrow, I shall return to find it at peace—but that peace has not come without sacrifice. And yet, I know it could have been so much more. That Val Misrenne and its people still stand is worth celebrating.”

“It is. And I hope that it brings you peace, as well.”

Trevelyan hugged her again—but the music’s sudden and effervescent return caused her to jump. Laughing at herself, Trevelyan glanced back at the dancefloor.

“You know, I am surprised Lady Erridge has not called you up for a jig!”

The Baroness chuckled. “No, no, my leg is far too frail for that.”

“Really?” Trevelyan raised an eyebrow. “I remember you saying that you still dance.”

“I do.” She grinned. “But the leg is an excellent excuse.”

Trevelyan caught her meaning. “Lady Erridge’s enthusiasm is quite difficult to match.”

“Indeed. She has the stamina of a demon. Though I’m sure Lady Orroat could find some use for that.”

Trevelyan laughed. “Your Ladyship! Please, I feel so terrible teasing her!”

“Then you should not like to hear what we say about you and him.”

The Baroness winked, as if to point. Trevelyan, utterly confused by who ‘him’ was, heeded the suggestion. She turned, laid her eyes upon the man in question, and groaned. Weaving past the dancers was—she ought to have guessed it—the Commander.

“Oh, Maker! You all have far too much—” She halted, realising the Baroness’s mouth was half-open, her cane being raised in the air. “No, no—!”

“Commander!”

He heard the call. His head whipped round. No stopping it now—he was coming towards them.

“Baroness!” Trevelyan hissed.

Touledy smiled, gave a suggestive flick of her brow, and said nothing more. Though Trevelyan was almost glad of this—the Commander ought not hear anything she was thinking.

“Ladies,” he greeted, upon arrival. “Is there something you need?”

“Why, yes,” said Touledy, all too confidently. What was she up to? “Lady Trevelyan here wishes another dance, but I am afraid I am unable to”—she flashed her cane—“would you be able to dance with her Ladyship, in my stead?”

“Oh.” The Commander softened. "Are you all right?”

Trevelyan noted, rather indignantly, that the Commander asked this question with the same sort of gentle voice that he often put on for her. This was a concept which, she suddenly discovered, she did not like. Why, oh why, did she have to make him befriend the other Ladies? Fool.

“Yes, thank you,” the Baroness answered, “but her Ladyship must have a dance.”

Trevelyan rolled her eyes. “But Baroness, the Commander does not like to dance, and I—”

“I could try,” he said.

Trevelyan stared at him. She thought of a thousand questions in response to this. But somehow, the only one she could quite manage was:

“What?”

“If you would like to.”

Oh. Well, there was little chance of her saying anything other than, “Yes.”

The Baroness grinned, relishing in her triumph. “Go on, then,” she said, “enjoy.”

Easier said than done. At least Trevelyan had danced enough jigs with Lady Erridge to know what she was to do with them, now. In her mind, as they walked to the floor, she went over the steps. Left, left, kick, clap. Switch. Then to the right? But—

The music grew in volume. Yet it sounded like no jig she’d ever heard. Trevelyan realised that the musicians had betrayed her. Not a jig. Not at all.

Sweet, slow strings floated across the hall. A… romantic melody, that had couples approaching the floor. Dear Maker fucking Andraste shitting Void. People linked hands and put them on waists and Trevelyan realised that she was in the midst of it, surrounded, and there was no escape, and she would have to do those things herself.

She faced the Commander. Maker, why did he have to look so pretty and be so sweet? This sort of thing was far simpler with unimportant suitors that one could so easily discard after, even if one did step on their toes.

He offered a hand. Trevelyan’s shook.

But still, they met.

Her fingers slid into his palm, sensing the warmth that emanated from beneath the leather of his glove. The feeling of his skin, however rugged or tender, was cruelly left to the imagination. She savoured it regardless.

Her other hand gathered up her skirts, like the rest of the dress-wearers were doing. Almost in position. There was simply one last thing to emulate—

The Commander’s hand moved for her waist, hesitant in its approach. The first touches of his fingertips—gentler even than that of cotton or down—caused her body to tense. She did not know how she was to bear his entire hand.

But his hand stopped short. It instead hovered over the fabric of her dress, as if afraid to press any further. Disappointing.

Nevertheless, the gentle strings of anticipation harmonised into a symphony. Dancing commenced, and the Commander’s feet shifted. Trevelyan mirrored his steps. Her nerves hit a peak.

And then, began to fade.

Because dancing with him was unlike dancing with anyone she had danced with before. It felt different. Gentler. Warmer. Safer. No pressure for extravagance, or flourish. It almost did not matter if she was dancing well or not. It was only him that mattered.

“You should dance more often,” she whispered to him. “You do it well.”

He smiled, softly, and said, “All right.”

Her words must have emboldened him, for his grip around her hand firmed and strengthened, and he drew her closer by its pull. His other hand slipped around her back, fitting perfectly into the mold of her body. The gap between them was more indistinct than ever.

Yet in that closeness was comfort. Her head, laid on his shoulder. The warmth of his chest, felt within her own. That gentle, soothing sway they shared. She let her eyes fall shut, the dancers fall away, and listened only to the beat of his heart. Trevelyan could have stayed like that for an eternity.

But the music slowly, gradually, dulled to quiet. The other dancers reappeared around them, the party audible once more. It was over.

They came to a standstill. Trevelyan’s hand reluctantly left his grasp; his trailed away from her waist. Yet still, she smiled, for nothing could take it from her lips.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course,” he replied.

“I shan’t make you dance another.”

“That’s… all right.” He rubbed his neck. “Will you, ah, be stargazing tonight?”

She played with her dress. “Most likely.”

“Ah. Good.”

She curtsied, he bowed. He left, she stayed. Her feet still wobbled, a little.

But she would have to recover quickly. For she turned to her side, and saw complete what had, until now, been only a disruption in her periphery: the Ladies, huddled together, in keen observance.

Trevelyan shook her head, and, before they could open their mouths, told them firm:

“Not one word.”

[evilhasnever]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon), 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén/Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo Characters: Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Eloping, Memory Related, Happy Ending, Baby Lan Xichen flashbacks for your weary heart, Identity Issues Series: Part 5 of Memory Lane Summary:

It’s still tender, this new memory of his. This new entirety of him.

Xiyao elope to Japan, with only their newfound memories for baggage.

p.s. you need to be logged in to read!

[r1ver-6]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58534945/chapters/149124334

My own ending to White Collar because I really liked the show but thought everyone needed one more case!

[coockie8]

The wiki says that Manic is the second born, but Sonic and Sonia have both referred to him as "little brother" in the show with Sonia at one point also calling Sonic "older brother", establishing a chronology for them (Sonic, Sonia, Manic), and I desperately wanna know where the wiki got the information it's using, 'cause it's certainly not from the dialogue in the show.