all done, pal! on ao3 here: picky
sorry for the delay, but part 3/3 of Jamie’s requests
hope you enjoy!!
“I just got out of the shower, I can’t dance. What if my towel falls off?” with jerembraggwood
Matt stood in front of the mirror, raising the blow dryer to the back of his head. He felt the hot air burn his skin, and he watched his reflection frown.
Matt hated having to blow dry his hair every day. It was annoying and time consuming and, Matt thought, rubbing at the tender spot, sometimes it just hurt like hell. He’d air dry or towel dry but, when he tried that before on a day he’d been in a rush, his hair took ages to dry and he’d been stuck with damp hair for most of the day. He’d enlisted the help of Mica to assist in brushing out the tangles, and she made it clear, in no uncertain terms, was he allowed to skip manually drying his hair if he was going to keep it that long.
There was a while after that incident that Matt honestly considered chopping his hair off so he would never have to deal with that bullshit again. But, fuck, that was also effort to maintain. Plus, like, he was actually pretty fond of the way his hair fell around his face, just brushing the tops of his shoulders.
So, he sighed, his eyes following the motion his hair was making around his head, blow drying it was.
When he’d finished the arduous task, he pressed the button and shut the dryer off. Matt waited for the ringing in his ear to subside, relishing in the momentary silence that was left.
Or, at least, what should have been silence. But, where Matt expected complete quiet, instead he was hearing… music? No, yeah, there was definitely music playing out there, some cheery pop song that Matt was straining to make out the words to, rather unsuccessfully. Not that the lyrics really mattered right then.
Matt did the math in his head, trying to figure out what time it was. Admittedly, he’d woken up later than he normally would, but he’d still been the first one awake that morning. Both Ryan and Jeremy had still been sleeping in bed when he’d gotten into the shower, and that was, like, maybe an hour ago. (So, he took an extra long time in the shower, sue him. It’s not like they couldn’t afford the water bill.)
His boyfriends must have gotten up shortly after he had, then. Matt was a bit surprised, honestly. Jeremy was usually pretty good about getting up, but Ryan was a fucking nightmare. Generally, they let him sleep in, more to avoid his grumpy attitude for the rest of the day than out of the kindness of their hearts.
Matt walked out of the bathroom to greet his boys, wrapping the towel around his waist as tightly as he could manage.
Ryan and Jeremy were loudly singing along to the radio as they made breakfast, dancing around the kitchen.
Matt watched for a minute, his chest feeling so incredibly warm it ached. Sometimes, it really hit him just how absolutely lucky he was. He had the two loves of his life here with him every day, and he swore not to take that for granted. They had so much.
Jeremy spotted him standing in the doorway and his grin was bright enough to light up the room. Matt’s heart fluttered pathetically, and he smiled back.
“C’mon,” Jeremy urged, grabbing Matt by the hands and dragging him into the kitchen, swaying his hips to the beat of the music.
Matt chuckled and pulled away, shaking his head fondly.
“I just got out of the shower, I can’t dance. What if my towel falls off?”
“Now, you see,” Ryan pointed out, staring at Matt and smirking, gesturing at Matt’s body with the spatula still in his hand. “That’s what we like to call the opposite of a problem.”
“Seconded.” Jeremy agreed, toying with the towel playfully.
Matt rolled his eyes and smacked his hands away. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Jeremy’s lips anyway.
He walked forward a few steps and did the same to Ryan, patting his cheek.
‘Alright, you horndogs.” Matt said, voice dripping with affection. “I’m going to go change into real clothes before I join whatever this little party is.”
He tried not to laugh too much at Jeremy’s pouting.
Oh wow thank you buddy!!!
This Is almost 800 words and I kind of love it so I hope you enjoy it too!!
“Now, where the fuck–” Ryan mumbled to himself, scratching his head. He stood, staring into his closet, rifling through the clothes hanging there for what had to be the fifth or sixth time.
The thing is, Ryan distinctly remembers hanging up his jacket the night before. Or, at least, he thinks he does. He’d barely been able to strip off his clothes and climb under the covers before he’d completely passed out, so his memory was a bit fuzzy.
But, the fact still stands, the jacket should be there, hanging up exactly where he put it. And, it clearly wasn’t.
So, either Ryan was losing it (which, yeah, okay maybe. But, like, he might not have been the youngest of the crew, but he wasn’t nearly old enough to be going senile yet. Check Geoff in a few more years, but Ryan was still doing pretty damn good, thanks), or one of the other chucklefucks he lived with was doing something and Ryan would be the victim.
And, Ryan really hated being a victim.
Giving one last forlorn look at his clothes, because maybe he missed something the other six times, he sighed and walked out of the bedroom, intending to get some answers. And, more importantly, get his fucking jacket back.
He’d been all over the penthouse, angrily questioning (or accusing, if he saw fit) each person he saw. Ryan was at his wits end on this mission and it was wearing down his already thin nerves.
Geoff had just laughed at him, and provided some insulting, and just overall unhelpful, comments. Ryan threatened bodily harm. Geoff laughed harder.
Jack had just given him a look that Ryan could only assume translated roughly into, “ if you even think about blaming me for this shit, they’ll never find the body.” So, he changed tactics, asking her very politely whether she had any information or not. She didn’t, but suggested maybe checking in on the lads. Ryan thanked her and then thanked his lucky stars that he’d managed to avoid making her angry. He’d learned his lesson last time.
Michael and Gavin both seemed sketchy as fuck, and Ryan was, understandably, extremely suspicious. But, any further questioning, and any promise of retribution if they fucked with him, went in one ear and out the other, and Ryan was forced to give up that particular route for now.
He might have been a little desperate by the time he’d gotten to Jeremy, but he figured that was perfectly reasonable at this point. He just wanted his damn jacket. And, he really couldn’t have been held accountable for the way he tore out of the room as soon as Jeremy had given him a stupid, knowing smile and told him, “Dude, go ask Matt.”
So, much like he did in front of his closet that morning where this whole debacle began, Ryan stood outside of Matt’s office (or what he’d claimed as his office. Really, it was another bedroom in the penthouse that Matt had installed more monitors than Ryan could ever imagine him needing, but, whatever, he wasn’t the hacker), completely ready to tear him a new one.
“Hey, Matt.” He called, pushing open the door. “You seen my jack-” Ryan stopped abruptly, staring at Matt in confusion.
“Asked and answered, I guess.”
Because, yeah, obviously Matt has seen his jacket considering the fucker was sitting there, wearing it.
“Matt,” Ryan entered the room cautiously. “What the fuck?”
“Hey, Rye.” Matt greeted, absentmindedly raising his hand in a half-assed wave.
“Yeah, Hi.” Ryan waved back. “I repeat. What the fuck?”
“Hmm, what?” Matt finally paid attention to Ryan, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow.
“My jacket.” Ryan explained, gesturing toward Matt’s chest. “Take it off.”
“Nah?” Ryan parroted incredulously. “Take. It. Off.”
Matt clicked his tongue, shaking his head.
“Don’t really feel like it, sorry.”
He didn’t sound sorry. And, the smirk he was giving Ryan sure as fuck didn’t make him look sorry, either.
Ryan took a deep breath, letting it out in a very frustrated huff.
“Give me back my fucking jacket, Matthew.”
Matt’s smirk widened to a full out grin.
“Nope.” He said, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Come over here and make me. he challenged. “It’s big, warm, and it smells like you.”
And, well, Ryan didn’t exactly have a response to that. His brain was short-circuiting, and fuck, did that one sentence make Ryan’s heart want to beat out of his chest.
“I-” Ryan slammed his mouth shut and swallowed. “Y-yeah, well. Fine. Wear it.” he said, turning around and fleeing from the room. “But, I’m taking your hoodie.”
“Don’t get it dirty.” Matt called back to him, already going back to his work.
And, by God, was Ryan careful not to get blood on it.
read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2riSVwP
“Why did you do that?”
“Because the LSPD are stupid, and I don’t wanna be saddled with your mail for the rest of my life.”
Jeremy has a weird neighbour who’s never around to pick up his goddamn parcels. He’s lucky he’s so hot.
Words: 2929, Chapters: ½, Language: English
- Fandoms: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
- Rating: Explicit
- Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
- Categories: M/M
- Characters: Jeremy Dooley, Ryan Haywood, Gavin Free, Geoff Ramsey, Jack Pattillo, Michael Jones, Meg Turney, Kdin Jenzen, Trevor Collins, Matt Bragg, Caleb Denecour
- Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood
- Additional Tags: Fake AH Crew, Alternate Universe – Grand Theft Auto Setting, Alternate Universe – Neighbors, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs
read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2riSVwP
part 2/3 of Jamie’s requests
“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping.” with, you guessed it, Jeremwood
“C’mon, J,” Ryan said, pulling Jeremy up off the couch. “Time to get your ass to bed.”
Jeremy grumbled but went with Ryan, eyes barely open enough to wrap his arm around Ryan’s shoulders.
Ryan could smell the booze on Jeremy’s breath as he nuzzled his head into Ryan’s neck, making Ryan shake his head fondly. This was hardly the first time he had walked in on Jeremy passed out on the couch after a Lad’s Night Out, and he doubted it would be the last. More often than not, Ryan would just carry him to his room, still unconscious and snoring away loudly in Ryan’s ear. The fact that Jeremy was with it enough to walk with Ryan’s help was a treat, even if Ryan had to lean down a considerable amount to make up for the height difference.
With some gentle urging, Ryan got Jeremy to take off his boots before sliding into bed.
“Mmm, you’re so good to me, Rye.” Jeremy mumbled, burying his head into the pillow, already drifting back to sleep.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Ryan pulled the blankets up and over Jeremy, tucking them around his shoulders snugly.
There was a moment where Ryan stood there, watching Jeremy’s breathing even out slowly, marveling at how peaceful he looked when he was asleep. His chest felt tight and he threw caution to the wind, leaning down and kissing his forehead gently, careful not to jostle him.
“Ryan,” Jeremy hummed around a yawn. “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”
Ryan couldn’t move, frozen in place as he watched Jeremy open one of his eyes to stare at him. The room was dead silent, except Ryan was sure his heartbeat was thunderously loud, pounding away in his chest.
“Uh,” Ryan let out a strangled breath. “Just go back to sleep, Jeremy. You’re dreaming.” he lied.
“Don’ wanna.” Jeremy opened both of his eyes and yawned again, stretching his arms above his head. As he sat up, Ryan’s gaze flitted to the door, planning a hasty escape.
Before he had a chance to hightail it out of the room, Jeremy continued, sleep still making him slur his words.
“I mean, I’ve totally dreamed about you kissing me, but I’m awake enough to know that wasn’t it. You’re usually more naked in those dreams.”
Ryan absolutely did not yelp at that, and his cheeks were not burning red, thank you very much.
“You,” Ryan tried to piece his thoughts together. “You want me to kiss you?”
“Like, yeah? Obviously?” Jeremy said slowly, significantly more awake and less drunk than he had been back in the living room.
And, no, it wasn’t obvious, what the fuck. If it was, maybe Ryan wouldn’t have been so stressed and secretive about his not-so-little crush he’d been harboring. Except…
Except, well, looking at how sincere Jeremy was being, maybe it actually was that obvious. The way he’d call Ryan his battle buddy, always finding a way to team up with him. Little glances, little touches, hushed moments shared together after a heist well done. Maybe this wasn’t as one-sided as Ryan had assumed.
And, wow, wasn’t that a lot to take in.
“You could do it again, y’know.” Jeremy told him, smiling softly. He tilted his head to the side, staring up at Ryan with an expression that Ryan could only describe as fond. “I wouldn’t mind.”
Part 1 of 3 prompts by my Pal, Jamie
Kind of got away from me
“Everybody keeps telling me you’re the bad guy” with jeremwood
“Y’know,” Jeremy started conversationally. He didn’t bother to pause the video game they were playing, just eyed Ryan and kept his voice even. “Everybody keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”
Jeremy watched Ryan freeze, his hands tightening on his controller. On the screen, Ryan’s character died.
“Y-yeah?” Ryan’s voice was strangled. “Why would anybody say that?”
Jeremy’s own character died, and he took the opportunity to turn the game off, putting the controller down and turning to face Ryan.
Ryan’s knuckles were white around the plastic, and Jeremy had the brief worry that he was going to break it. The thought was fleeting, concern for the way Ryan wouldn’t look at him much more pressing.
“Ryan.” Ryan still didn’t move. Jeremy had to look closely to make sure Ryan was even still breathing. He was, breaths small and shallow and too quick, but he was. Jeremy tried to keep his voice soft, gentle. “I know who you are, Rye.”
The question took Jeremy off guard. He wasn’t sure what reaction he’d been expecting, but this wasn’t it.
“I asked,” Ryan huffed, his back stiff, still looking straight ahead. “How long did you know?”
“You’re not exactly subtle, Buddy.” Jeremy told him. “Wasn’t hard to figure out when The Fakes got in trouble, and you’d show up with more scars all over your body. Did you really think I’d believe you just fell?” He scoffed. “On what? A box of knives?”
“I-” Ryan’s words died in his throat, and he finally turned to Jeremy. He sighed, suddenly looking like a man years older. “I didn’t want you to get caught up in all of this. I wanted to keep you safe.”
“Safe from what, Ryan? From thinking my boyfriend fucking trusts me?” Jeremy ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm down. “That’s bullshit, Ryan, and you know it. I fucking told you how I grew up. The only person you’re saving here is yourself because you didn’t want me to know.”
Ryan pushed himself off the couch, walking to the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?“ Jeremy stood up, too following. “We’re not finished here.”
Ryan’s voice was harsh when he said, “I think we are, actually. I mean, you said it yourself.” He let out a humorless laugh. “I’m the bad guy, right? You’re better off without me, anyway.”
“Fuck you, Haywood.” Jeremy stepped in front of him, blocking his path to the door. Ryan was taller, but that didn’t stop Jeremy from getting in his face. “You don’t fucking get to walk into my life, make me fall in love with you. Fucking lie to me. And, then walk right back out.”
Jeremy moved closer, backing Ryan against the wall.
“You’re not a bad guy, asshole.” He lowered his voice. “Or, fuck it, maybe you are. But, maybe I am, too, alright? I’m not going to let you just leave.” Jeremy sighed, shoulders slumping. “I love you, Ryan. All of you. I don’t give a flying fuck if you’re The Vagabond, as long as you’re still my boyfriend.”
“I-” Ryan swallowed, looking down at Jeremy. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, dickhead.” Jeremy reached up and pulled Ryan down, hand around the back of his neck. “And, right now,” he whispered. “I’d really like it if my boyfriend would kiss me.”
“That,” Ryan said against Jeremy’s lips, wrapping his arms tight around his back. “I think I can manage.”
i hope this is what you had in mind, buddy
Ryan seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, meeting Matt’s eyes and was he blushing?
“You alright, dude?” Matt asked warily, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Ryan wasn’t exactly the most normal guy he knew, but he was acting especially weird that night.
“Y-yeah.” Ryan nodded quickly, too quickly, and smiled. Or, at least, Matt thinks it was a smile? He looked more like he was in pain, but benefit of the doubt or whatever. Ryan cleared his throat loudly. “So, uh, wh- uh, what’s with the outfit?”
“Oh!” Matt shimmied down the skirt a bit more, suddenly aware that he was standing in front of Ryan showing off way more skin than he was strictly comfortable with. His cheeks felt hot and he chuckled nervously. “Oh, uh, it was Mica’s idea. Said she wanted to go clubbing? Not really my scene but I figured it would save a lot of trouble if I just, uh, let her do what she wanted.”
Ryan didn’t say anything for a few moments, and Matt actually felt like he was in hell. He was going to fight Mica for this, holy shit. Or, realistically, he’s gonna get white girl wasted later and cry to her about this and hope she doesn’t laugh at him too much. Which, of course she will. It’s Mica.
Finally, Ryan managed to speak up, asking, “it’s a, uh, a bit short, yeah?” in a shaky voice that had Matt thinking things. Impossible things. Because, yeah, Matt was oblivious at the best of times, but he could have sworn he caught Ryan staring at his legs which was…. Interesting.
Matt cursed at himself. Don’t be stupid, Matt. He’s probably just freaked out that his crewmember is suddenly wearing skimpy clothes around him. Nobody would want that.
“Yeah, Mica said it was a mini? The skirt is supposed to be this short.” Matt swayed his hips a little without thinking. “It’s a style? I guess. I don’t know, she said it would show off my legs, which is something I’m supposed to want?”
“It sure does!” Ryan choked out, his voice cracking on the statement. Ryan tugged at his collar, eyes flicking between Matt’s face and the skirt. “Hope you, uh, have fun.”
“Thanks, pal.” Matt said slowly. “I’ll, uh, try to.”
[griffin mcelroy voice] my boys
Ryan frowned, trying to readjust the fabric bunched around his legs in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable and left him with at least a modicum of dignity.
He would be the first to admit that, although Geoff’s plans always seemed to be barely thought out, and, generally, more than a little ridiculous, they at least usually had some logic to them. Hell, most of the time, his plans go exactly how he said they would, leaving the rest of the crew to wonder how he manages it. So, Ryan had taken to (mostly) shutting up when Geoff came to them with another absurd idea and just trusting him not to let them down.
But, Jesus fuck, this one had to just be Geoff fucking with him, right? There was no way Ryan needed to deck himself out in a fucking kilt and put on what was truly an embarrassingly bad Scottish accent as a cover. That’s too much, even for Geoff.
Still, Geoff insisted that he do this. If insisting meant threatening to throw Ryan out of the crew, and then threatening straight up bodily harm when that wasn’t enough. Ryan would say that was overkill, but to be perfectly honest, even that wasn’t very convincing.
The kilt, although not exactly what Ryan would consider his everyday wear, definitely had its perks.
Like, for one, the way that Matt blushed a deep red all the way to the tips of his ears when he caught sight of him. Or, how he’d barely been able to stutter out a compliment, the “Uh, you, uh, you look pretty hot in plaid. Like, really hot.” spoken in a mumbled daze as Matt continued to avoid eye contact.
Or, of course, Jeremy acting the exact opposite, refusing to pry his gaze away from Ryan’s bare legs, taking to whispering in Ryan’s ear just what he claimed the tartan material was doing for him.
After this job was done, he was going to kill Geoff for putting him up to this.
He’d keep the kilt, though. Something told him that he was going to get some good use out of it.