#I think sigma deserves a little break from like everything

[softboiled-egg]

They’re a bit worried

[sips-tea-cutely]

Hiii! I have a BSD request! Its a bot dark but its related to something that Ive been working through lately. Can you do as many bsd characters as you can reacting to their S/O getting emotional on their birtgday because they "didn't think they would make it this far"? Like they struggled with severe depression and suicidal thoughts/SH in their childhood and honestly didn't expect to make it to the age they are now? Its almost my birthday and I've been struggling with the same thing so i wanted some fluff with my favorite characters to help me through it! :) thank you so much!

I’ll never love again because I am so in love with you.

“Everything passes

That is the one and only thing I have thought esembled a truth in the society of human beings here I have dwelled up to now as in a burning hell.

Everything passes.

This year I am twenty-seven.” -No Longer Human

osamu dazai, ango sakaguchi, gin akutagawa, chūya nakahara, akiko yosano, tetchō suehiro, sigma

a/n: let it be known that my friend randomly picked these characters…. ALSO @your--local--freak hey baybee boii emo boi im sorry im in an rawr mood but in an ironic way

#Osamu Dazai

“nightshade~ c’mon!! wakey wakey, it’s time to celebrate!” your boyfriend said while shaking your lucid body.

grumbling at your clear ignorance to him, he started kissing your face; on your forehead, your cheek— anywhere that he was able to reach. “h-?! alrightt!! osamu, im awake..” you groan at his sudden rush to wake up.

“c’mon, let’s get ready, it’s your birthday after all!” he said while removing his pajama shirt. “who are you and what have you done to osamu, when’ve you ever been excited by work?” you silently giggle

“hehe, i got the director to let us have a day off, i want to spend the whole day with you, of course!” he kisses your cheek once again, more gently and endearing rather than playful this time.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

dragging you to every one of your favorite places, the cafe you used to frequent before joining the agency, the restaurant where the two of you had your first date, and the place you two had first met.

walking home from an arcade he dragged to, you looked unhappy, had he done it all wrong? “is something wrong, my nightshade? you look so sad!” he pouted. “hmm? ahaha, i’m fine osamu really—“ you laugh. “i just honestly did not think i’d still be alive.”

‘still be alive’? that was the thing he’d constantly say to ango and oda, he had felt dizzy from fear. “still be alive? does that mean you were considering committing double suicide with me? how honored, i am!” he grinned. of course, he’d never wish for you to die, you were someone who never did any intentional wrong; you were someone who unlike him, do not deserve to die.

“well, something like that, i guess. i used to be a little hopeless, i never really thought i’d make it.” you bitterly laugh, tears just threatening to spill. ah, no wonder you didn’t want to undress in front of him, you— just like him— had many scars.

what would’ve he wanted when he felt hopeless? someone who would take care of him, validate him when he felt like breaking apart.

suddenly grabbing your waist and lightly brushing your hair, he seems calmer than usual, most unlikely.

“i am glad you’re still alive, my dear. because you’ve done so much for me so, let me take care of you, just for tonight— ‘kay?”

silent for a while, you slightly nod, covering your glassy eyes. noticing the small gesture, he grabbed your cupped hands. how adorable

“well then, let’s get home now shall we? i have one more gift, me~!” he announced.

#Ango Sakaguchi

waking up next to ango was quite rare; his job often demanded late nights and early mornings so just imagine the surprise when you saw ango peacefully next to you, hair uncared for and wild from all the all-nighters.

“ango, you’re late for work, hey!” you quietly shout while tapping on his face. shooting up in fear, ango seemed to remember where he was— at home, with you.

“right… i finished the most urgent documents a week ago and asked chief taneda for two days off. it’s alright— it’s your birthday, after all.” he explained, his heart finally calming from the panic. “what would you want to do, dear?” he rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses.

“let’s just stay in bed for a while…” you lie back down onto the edge of his chest. “mmh, sure, if it’s what you want.” he smiled at your simple domesticity, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you talked about almost anything and everything.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

after seemingly exhausted every conversation you two could’ve ever had, the two of you sat in each others’ presence. noticing you staring at the wall, you seemed melancholic, something akin to dazai’s teenage angst.

“is something wrong?” he asked, sitting up. “mm, it’s nothing major, i just didn’t think i’d still be alive by now…” you mumbled.

hopelessness, that had been something he was familiar with, the port mafia reeked of desperation and misery, even after four years, it still haunts him.

both of his dear friends had dealt with depression and traumas— they drowned in their own hollowness and it ruined them both mentally. this time, he had another chance to stop that from happening again. maybe this could be the way he redeems himself to oda and dazai.

“your life is a beautiful thing, you know? i’m so proud of you for living through your pain, i’ve seen many times how hard it is to live when it seems there is no reason so even living itself is amazing.”

a cold tear fell onto ango’s hand as he caressed your face. “you deserve to be happy because everyone deserves that right.” he smiled at you.

standing up and tugging at your arm, he beckoned you to join him out of the bed and into the living room.

“let’s get up now, then? i still have one more thing to show you, your birthday present.

#Gin Akutagawa

gin mostly did not show any affection publicly, so just imagine the surprise when you see her sneaking into your office with her hair down and her mask off for once.

“happy birthday, s/o!.. i got you this— it’s pastries from this new store that higuchi talked about, i thought maybe you’d like it…” she showed the fabric bag, tied with a red ribbon.

“oh, gin, there’s really no need for gifts, it’s alright!” you reassure her. before she can retort, you expand— “let’s share it instead, how about that?”. a bit confused, she agreed and sat down in the chair facing you.

grabbing one of the powdered confections, “mm… if you don’t mind me, why would you not want a present?” she asked before biting into the treat.

“haah, well i wont lie, it’s just that i never saw a use to living. it’s quite hopeless, really. im surprised im still alive.” you remark, just meekly laughing at the last part.

there’s a familiar look in your eyes, something in ingrained into her mind— ‘those who want to die have an equal desire to kill’, something her older brother often said.

“why would you say that? living up until now is a milestone we should celebrate!” she said, much more confident than usual. “gin, really, there’s no need to talk about it, it’s just something from my childhood..!” you try to move on from the conversation but she can’t.

childhood— did something happened to you? were you raised in similar conditions as her? the slums she grew up in were in terrible condition, were you hunted by traffickers as well? her thoughts ran wild as she thought of what she could do. if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine, she just wants to be there for you.

“hmm… i may not know as well as you the conditions you lived under but… i’m so grateful that you are still alive to this day, you mean more to me than you know, s/o.” she said, raven hair just slightly hiding the redness in her cheeks.

barely giving a moment to think, she grabbed you out of your chair. “come!” she smiled elegantly. “it’s your birthday so, let’s have as much fun as you want.”

#Chuya Nakahara

chuya cherished birthdays, especially yours. it is the day that his love was born after all, so did you expect less than for him to go all out?

waiting for you in your shared apartment— a rich dark chocolate cake on the bar counter, slow-dance music playing on CD player, and most importantly— him standing in your doorway with dozens of roses.

jingle, creak… “AAH!” you scream, hitting the intruder with your bad. “shit!” the crimson flora fly all over room as your boyfriend cups his cheek. “chuya?! what the hell are you doing there?” you shakily ask, turning on the lights.

“well, duh, it’s your birthday and i wanted to surprise you.. fuck..” he groans. “don’t just stand there in the dark, it makes you look creepy! are you ok?” you grunt before checking on him yourself.

“yea, nothing that’ll mark.” he breathily laughed at the whole situation. “now, back to what i planned—“ he grabbed some of the roses on the floor. “happy birthday, s/o.” he smiled, giving an endearing kiss on your lips.

“chuya, you really didn’t have to do all of this..” you told him. “i cant treat it like it’s just any day, it’s special because it’s your birthday.” he answered back as he guided you towards the dining table.

“plus, i had to fight off an agency scum for this cake, you better try some.” he joked as he placed it onto the table.

tasting some of the rich cacao, it’s so warm. the feeling of calm fills your psyche. “it’s that good, hm? glad to know.” he smiled, noticing your obvious mellowness. “it’s so comforting” you dreamily said.

“i’m so proud of you for living up until now.”

chuya had always known you had a bad childhood, so he had always made it a statement to express his love. even when he was busy, trying to talk to you about your day while the two of you prepared for bed.

remembering the things you loved and thought of chuya knew like it was the back of his hand but even so, him observing your behavior in the upcoming days till your birthday is so… sweet of him.

“you made it another year, you’re so strong.” he smiled genuinely. noticing the glassy look in your eyes, he pulled himself closer to you. “ah— shit, please don’t cry.” he wiped the tears off with his glove.

“c’mon…” he slightly sighed. “your birthday isn’t meant to be spent being depressed about the past, all that matters is that you’re alive right now so why don’t’ ‘ya celebrate that you got past ‘em?”

“n..noo.. im not sad… you’re just so sweet, ugh…” you groan. “i…” chuya stood, silent… “well, i still stand by what i said, we should still celebrate you.”

#Akiko Yosano

yosano cherishes life, birthdays are a reminder of that. so it’s honestly no surprise that she took you out on a day off.

going to your favorite shops, buying you anything you wanted, she couldn’t say no when it’s your birthday!

“mm, come, i have a reservation at your favorite restaurant” she dragged you along with her, going over to the waiter in the front.

exchanging words, soon enough he showed you over to a table for two, the edge showing a beautiful view of the sky; blue, white and grey fog the sky and move at a snail’s pace.

“fufu… what does it feel to be another year older, dear?” she smiled, admiring your features. “hm, well it still feels a little weird…” you laugh.

“well, that’s just a given, it’ll feel normal eventually.” she reassured. “aah, well that’s part of the problem but most of it is… ah, im ruining such a happy mood, nevermind!”

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

finishing your meal, it felt comforting, like it was home. mellow thoughts clouded your head until the staff surrounded you, singing happy birthday as they placed a free dessert in front of you.

“i don’t think i can say it enough but… happy birthday, darling.” yosano stared lovingly. until— she noticed how shaken up you seemed? did you not want to be put on the spot?

“thank you for this day, ‘kiko…” you smile gracefully. “i didnt think i’d make it to see the day, i feel so happy now that i’m with you.” you smile so appreciatively, so lovesick and joyed— the same grateful smile ranpo pulled out of her the day she joined the agency. did she really mean that much to you?

“life is always fleeting, i know better than most how it feels when you want to die at such a young age, and… i’m so proud of you for waking up everyday.”

#Tetchou Suehiro

tetcho was obviously not good with emotions. but something he was sure of was that he loved you so for you, he tries his best to be more affectionate.

coming into your office with some strawberry pudding, he placed it onto your table. “happy birthday, s/o.” he said, grabbing your hand and kissing it. “oh, ‘cho! i’m surprised there isn’t anything… odd about this. hehe, thank you.” you giggle.

“well, i was planning to add shichimi spices as a garnish however, vice commander okura and jouno heavily advised against it.” aha, in his samurai nature, he’s as honest as ever. “mmh… well, it’s still delicious, thank you, tetchou.” you smile and placing the dessert spoon back onto the bowl.

“alright now… what would you like to do? i am here for you.” as monotone as ever, he stood with incredible posture. “‘cho, really it’s fine i’m just glad to spend it with you here.” you wave your hand in reassurance.

“hm, are you sure? this day comes once a year, we should celebrate it.” he tilted his head in confusion. “ahaha, i honestly just wanna spend some time with you, it’s alright..” you respond with an overwhelmingly big smile— a smile he has only seen on jouno when he’d been interrogating various criminals.

“may i know why? whenever it is jouno’s birthday, he is supposedly my superior.” he asked, except for that last part... “i don’t really wanna talk about it, tetchou. let’s just spend some time together.”

slightly pissed with such an indeterminate answer, he started to dig deeper. “please let me know, s/o. so i can comfort you properly.” he pushed.

probably guessing it’s no use since he’d continue to push it, you just sighed tiredly as you vaguely explained the details of your childhood, your problems with suicide and so on. looking back to him, tetchou was silently fuming.

“the people who did this to you, the ones who made you cry— they are the ones who deserve to die. how dare they make a child feel this way?” he narrowed his eyes, as if pondering death. that is until he pulled you close to his chest, losing his hands in your hair.

“i will be here for you to make sure you never cry ever again.” his eyes full of resolution. “that is my promise to you.”

[dimensionalspades]

@apoapsis said: ".... I know you have feelings. Feelings that make you so sad-- that make you just want to give up. That is not your fault." [Sigma comforting a stressed and lonely Jack?? U KNOW Sigma's gonna hold him]

- eeaao || accepting -

. A part of him froze at that, the rest forced him to hide that flash of vulnerability that threatened to choke him. The nightmare still clung to him, even if he was already forgetting most of the details within it.

. He remembered pulling a dead man out of rubble thinking he could still hear him crying for help, pushing someone through a doorway before it collapsed, hearing himself giving directives, feeling the floor give way. He was going to die, he was going to die, and did he deserve it? The month after the explosion still came up empty- flashes of his unrecognizable face in the mirror as he tried to stem the bleeding, his eyes just a little too dark, his hair the wrong color, his teeth coated in red- stitching torn flesh and desperately trying to keep his hand steady.

. It was his face, right?

. Back channels and social medias checked, looking in on what had become of those he'd loved. Faces came with names, trying to pair them, trying to remember people as they'd been, recovering fragments of memories and relationships; they all felt like strangers- he knew a face, but behind it was a blank.

. How pathetic he felt when it all surfaced and bled into the waking world- even worse when it was in the presence of another. Few had seen him in this state, and the eyes of someone else on him while that sinking pit in his chest threatened to swallow him up only made him more acutely aware of the weight on him that threatened to crack his spine. Everything felt fragile, so impossibly brittle.

. Arms encircling him broke that miserable reverie, a hand clutching one arm in a vise-like grip. It felt like if the doctor let go, he'd break into a thousand pieces. His breathing was deep and nearly labored, eyes fixated ahead as he fought to keep his composure despite the overwhelming tide.

. He'd thought of it often- giving up. How many times had he barely felt human, barely alive and just existing in a constant state of running, fighting, soldiering on despite the crushing weight of his failure? He remembered laughing at the thought of retirement when he was still at the top of the world. It'd seemed so silly. Why would he ever want to stop being a 'Hero'.

. He wanted to speak, tell Sigma he couldn't give up- the options were this or death, and he only accept this because death terrified him. But, oh, god, he wanted to lay down sometimes, to accept what had been done and that it would never change.

. But, like many others broken by the destruction of Overwatch, he refused. He kept going, searching for answers.

. Gods, but there were so many better options. He could return to the new Overwatch, accept their righteous ire, and go from there. No apology would feel like enough, but wasn't it worth it to try, to give them that option? Every time he came close, he was overwhelmed by what came with that, and, like a selfish coward, he hid again.

. For now, this was the way forward.

. He finally relaxed against Sigma, adrenaline dissipating slowly.

. "Sorry," he mumbled tiredly, head falling against Sigma's shoulder as the rest of his body seemed to follow suit. His tablet nearby read 03:45. He exhaled, turning enough that he could lay against Sigma's side with one arm thrown across his chest. "Thanks," he murmured tiredly against the man's shoulder. "Just need... it'll be fine."

[11-eyed-rook]

Project Gamma Sigma will be moving... again. A "small" announcement.

I know not that many people know of my project, Project Gamma Sigma, to begin with, but for those that do have some interest in it, it'll be moving from Blogspot/Blogger (whatever the damn thing is called). How soon, I'm not sure. Where? That's almost a secret for now. Shh.

To elaborate...

THE "WHERE DO WE BEGIN" OF IT ALL...

This project had originally started, technically, on Facebook as part of some short stories I'd write in the notes (a feature that doesn't even exist anymore). For a very short time, bits of Gamma Sigma existed on a separate Tumblr blog. That didn't seem to offer me enough flexibility with text formatting (which is an important aspect of how I write the story, due to how I can emphasize certain things, and it's just my style so shh), so I moved everything (pretty much re-making it entirely) on Blogger/Blogspot (I'll just call it Blogspot). So Gamma Sigma has had many locations, but none that are, at this particular moment, a proper "home".

THE "I THOUGHT IT'S GOOD ENOUGH" PART...

For a while, I'd believed Blogspot to be a decent-enough home for the project, and a few years had passed without much to worry about. Blogspot seemed easy enough to deal with, even with its flaws that I desperately tried to find workarounds for... whenever I could. And for a while, those workarounds sorta worked. I was even surprised that they worked for as long as they did, thinking about it now...

However...

OOPS! ALL BROKEN!

(AKA, THE BORING "I'M ANGRY" PART).

Yesterday, I found out that some of my modifications to the theme's code refused to function in any capacity (as in, the less-convenient default options force-replaced whatever was in the code previously, for what reason I don't know). Even the button that would allow me to undo any "recent changes" to the code, only showed the preview having the intended features, but the saved version wouldn't reflect any of the changes (I even checked on different browsers and that includes my phone's web browsers - the intended feature wasn't there, it just got disintegrated along with my patience for this shit).

At that point I'd come to a conclusion... I've had enough. I feel like I lack control over the very shell of what holds YEARS worth of my creative work, and I'm not putting up with it anymore. My project deserves a better home.

I'd already considered moving the project elsewhere, many times, but this brought my frustration to a boil. Numbered page navigation was no longer an option, as massively convenient as it had been during the time when it worked. Now it's just a "MORE POSTS" button. Click it, it takes you to the next page, at the top of the page, scroll down, click it, and the cycle repeats a few more times; if I find it frustrating, I can't imagine that many people would want to go looking for my oldest posts that way either (and the best part, obviously, is the part where Blogspot doesn't offer an option to change that in any way by default, which is why I had to modify the code itself to begin with; if I can't modify the code to my liking, why even give me the option to do so?!).

To make it even more annoying: The pre-existing "Archive" function barely helps the convenience of this, and, frankly, I'm tired of trying to negotiate my way around the lack of options for something like this.

A VAGABOND PROJECT; VISION, STRUGGLES, GOALS AND OTHER STUFF...

I know very little about building things right in the code (especially with very little or even nothing to start with), but if I can figure out the basics and make a skeleton of something work to my advantage, I'll make it work sooner than I'll realize. I've surprised myself in the past, and I'm sure I can create something that'll serve as a home to my project, permanently.

Moving Gamma Sigma would allow me to add features that, I'm sure, wouldn't work (or would quickly break) on Blogspot. One feature would allow me to make some of my entries more "immersive" - being able to play a specific audio track when opening specific entries, for example. Other things would, of course, include improved page navigation, secret pages, and potentially other fun little (maybe interactive) things, that would be relevant to the Gamma Sigma story in some way.

I know it sounds ambitious, especially for somebody who's never done something of this scope before, but I won't know if I don't try, and I'm passionate enough about my project to put in the effort to give it a home it'll thrive in.

A LITTLE OFF-TOPIC, BUT IT KIND OF HAS A REASON TO BE HERE...

On top of the frustrations regarding Blogger, I'd wanted to move away from using Google products/services/etc. for a while, and Blogspot, as it is, being owned by Google, would have to be one of the things I'd have to deal with at some point, inevitably. So that, too, helped me make my decision to move the project - the option to keep the project alive long-term.

I've also been planning to move away from using Google stuff in general, due to how unreliable their product lifespans can be... But that, alone, isn't my only goal; I don't exactly trust Google... And on that matter...

I plan on moving away from using Microsoft's products as well, and that eventually will include the operating system, Windows, itself. I've already been experimenting with using Linux, and the only reason I hadn't moved entirely, is because I still need to work out some issues regarding some windows-only programs and whether they'll work properly in Linux, through whatever means are available to me. If I can make them work, then it's bye-bye Microsoft.

I just value privacy and having a choice in how the system behaves. I value having control over what I do on my own computer. When using an OS is a matter of "letting 3rd parties have some of my personal data", on a PAID operating system no less, I'd think it's too fucking far.

But back to what's at hand...

CONCLUSION OR WHATEVER. OH YEAH ALSO A GAMMA SIGMA HIATUS, THAT TOO...

This was a long "announcement" (with some extra yelling), but I'll update it if something comes up (like, if I finish the migration process or if I decide on something else to add, Idk). I have no clue as to how long it'll take, but this basically forces me to put off posting any newer entries until further notice. Or unless I feel like it, I guess? Still, a hiatus is a hiatus, and I know it already took like a year for me to write the newest entry, but don't worry about that, shhHh,,,

OH AND ONE MORE THING...

It's possible I'll be changing the name of the project itself. As to what it'll be, I'm still not sure, but again, I'll make an update about it once I figure it out I guess.

Thanks for reading.

Sorry for stealing your time for this.

[doccywhomst]

what your favorite doctor probably says about you (nice edition)

theta sigma: you're the most complex nerd imaginable and in the best way possible. you're a geek with a strong anti-authoritarian rebellious streak, and you've probably dealt with your fair share of terrible adults. you want to be truly known and loved, even if just for a little while - you're perfect, never change.

first doctor: you're a sucker for the enemies-to-friends/character development and found family tropes, and that's beautiful. you're always looking for ways to improve and be a good person, and that makes you a good person!

second doctor: i feel like 1 and 2 are just Yoda with extra steps - on the surface, you love that fantastic Goblin Energy™️, but you also have a special desire for close, deep friendships. never let social anxiety deter you from connecting with people and forming solid relationships.

third doctor: he's literally a science wizard who drives fast in cool cars, you're the sanest out of all of us. he's also capable, kind, motivated, and inspired, just like you!

fourth doctor: you're a bit spacey and impractical sometimes, and might be occasionally hard to work with, but it's because you have brilliant ideas and you're usually right. you're inherently fun to be around and have a lot of knowledge, experience, and love to give. never ever quit being you!!!

fifth doctor: you're fun and funky fresh, down with the kids, hip with the lingo, and also none of the above - you can be very trusting, and you usually have no idea what you're doing, but you do it with a smile and hope that helps. you can do anything that you put your mind to, and i believe in you! you're a wonderful person!!

sixth doctor: you're either a queer theater kid or someone with a heart of gold and a dramatic flair. you love his confidence, as you should. you also love his mad scientist/inventor nature, and how his personality can change in an instant - you're quick-witted, fluid, and up to any challenge!

seventh doctor: you love Ace. admit it. and you're bisexual. and you love the Kandyman. and Cheetah Master. and the Lungbarrow chaos. but I do too and I have a seventh doctor pin, and you're a wonderful person, I love everything about you!! seriously, you're brilliant

eighth doctor: you're adhd/autistic and/or queer, and this is from personal experience - if you didn't know already, this is your psa. also you're kind and romantic, and you deserve to have fulfilling friendships, and you're one of the sweetest and zaniest people I could ever meet! this is my favorite doctor, so I think we'd get along really well!

war doctor: ooh oh hooo... hee hee... OOOH hoo hoo hoo... you have lingering trauma that needs to be resolved, my friend, but it makes you kinder than anyone! you can be quiet sometimes, but there's a lot happening inside. you should try making art or poetry to get all that energy out.

shalka doctor: this is so big-brained honestly, he only has one piece of content and it's not even """canon""", you're so brave - you're into characters with soft, fun centers and harder exteriors, and you're probably the same way. you have a serious case of RBF but you'd do anything to help someone because you're a beautiful person! every doctor would vibe with you

ninth doctor: you're more on the quiet side, but when someone brings up The Thing You're Interested In, it's like a dam breaking - you're so smart and you have so much love pent up inside!!! you probably have anxiety or depression, but it's balanced by the hope you place in others and your dreams for a better future - value your friends. value your time here. value yourself. you deserve love.

tenth doctor: sure, he's space Casanova, he's a real charmer, but you love his sadder, raw moments just as much as his silly and flirty ones. you want to be as flippant and casual as him, and also as deep and profound, and good news, you are! you're extremely complex, intelligent, and funny, and I love you

eleventh doctor: you're a disaster mom friend - you're normally chaotic and disorganized, but when the shit hits the fan, you're the first one to rally the troops and get cracking. you don't always feel like a "real" adult, but you're more than capable! you're also quite supportive and very fun to be around - keep it up!

twelfth doctor: my other favorite doctor, for so many reasons. he reminds me of three and shalka - they're just a bunch of old chaos magician scientists trying to duct tape the universe together, and that's beautiful. you're kind but not always nice, which means you're honest and I would trust you with my life. there's also a strong likelihood of you being gay or asexual. i love you so much.

thirteenth doctor: oh, my sweet summer child. you're a 11 + 12 combo, which is a real whopper - a disaster mom friend RBF science magician. you genuinely care about other people and only want the best for them, but that can be hard to communicate. but it's okay! all that matters is that you try to bring light into everyone's lives, like thirteen, and everything else will fall into place! she makes friends easily and is never deterred by a challenge, and you share her best traits.

ruth!doctor: you're so fucking sexy oh my god, i don't even know where to begin. you're probably a simp for strong women with guns/swords, and so am i. your fashion sense is atrocious (complimentary) and your attitude is unbearable (complimentary), and I love you for it.

[bubsdolan]

80 and 127 with gray please <3

“The things that I want to do to you, baby.”, “Are you wearing my shirt?”.

smut masterlist.

kappa sigma was the biggest and most notorious fraternity on campus. it was home to the entire football team, the most popular and sort after boys at your college- and these boys knew how to throw a party.

every friday night, after a clear win and success on the pitch, kappa sigma throw their annal celebratory party. an open invitation to everyone at the college, some even outside of campus but no one ever kept track on who was in attendance. the mastermind behind it all- grayson dolan.

grayson dolan was captain, star of the team and the one everyone idolised. he was the typical all the boys wanted to be him and all the girls wanted him. he slept around- a lot- never one to be tied down or give into commitment no matter how many people tried. that was until he met you.

you were never one to attend the parties that occurred in kappa sigma, they quite frankly bored you. you enjoyed drinking yes, but the idea of being surrounded and trapped in a sweaty environment with people you had no interested in, didnt appeal to you. however, when your bestfriend, your sister, your twin flame begged and pledged with you to attend the party, so she could sleep with her dream man, her biggest crush and conquest- ethan dolan- you ran out of excuses to give her.

after a night of heavy drinking and flirting, your friend managed to snag ethan dolan. ending the night in his bed after the party drew to a close and in turn leaving you to fend for yourself and sleep on the sofa of a fraternity house that smelt of strong substances and sex. ethan kindly offered you a shirt, an oversized jersey that came down to your knees, in order for you to get a comfortable night sleep and not worry about your bestfriend getting absolutely railed a few doors down.

of course you could have gone back to your dorm, it was across campus. but you were alone. dressed in tight revealing clothing and it was baring on 3am. ethan cared for your bestfriend, more then you had originally anticipated when promising to be her wing man, and therefore he cared for you. persisting you spent the night than you could leave bright and early in the morning when it felt safer to do so.

and that’s exactly how you ended up in the company of grayson dolan. shirtless and smirking down at you after you had misjudged your steps and slammed right into his toned physique. grayson was an early riser at the best times, but in this instant he had woken up a few extar hours early to sneak out a girl he had already forgotten the name off. not wanting to deal with the questions and attack from his fellow fraternity.

grayson was surprised, yet somewhat exhilarated to see you. in his home, and wearing his jersey? at first he got jealous in thinking you had slept with one of his brothers, all of them knowing deep down his evergrowing crush on you. but after he saw his number adorning your beautiful body, he felt smug. 

“are you wearing my shirt?” were the first words grayson spoke after your little run in. you watched him usher the blonde girl out the door without such a goodbye, before inturn collideding his body with yours. your felt small by the way his eyes raked up and down your frame, admiring the way you looked in his jersey with nothing underneath.

“oh-“ you avoid his intense gaze. feeling slightly intimidated by his sudden appearanceand the way he was staring at you with hunger. “so-sorry, ethan let me borrow it after last night.”

this made grayson seethe with anger, his mind automatically thinking the worst in his brother breaking bro code and sleeping with the only girl who had his younger twins heart. but when he heard giggles coming from ethans room, a squeal and the banging of the headboard, his anger was replaced.

“keep it, looks good on you,” grayson reached forward to brush a few stray hairs away from your face, slowly backing you into a wall as he trapped your body between his. his hand slowly lowerd down to your hip when he sees you bite on your bottom lip and continue to hold his gaze. he waited for you to shy away, to push him away and reject all his advances, but when you don't - he takes this as his sign. 

grayson then proceeds to dip his lips down to the skin of your neck and suck on it. earning a hearty moan from you that went straight to his pants, making him copy the same moan, one he needed to hear again for the rest of the life his.

“the things i want to do to you, baby.” grayson whispers in the crook of you neck. not quite believing the position he’s in, with his dream girl and living out his fantasies he slept away with other woman. hoping one day it would be you. 

“p-please, grayson,” you plead, hands coming down to squeeze and dig your nails into his delicious biceps, as he teasingly pushes his jersey up to expose your already dripping core. god, the sight of you was picturesque. he couldn’t thank god enough for his luck, for allowing him to have you.

“are you sure about this, y/n. s’want this to be different, yaknow,” the sincerity in his words confused you. how different could a quick one night stand be to a promiscuous grayson dolan. the man who fucked anything with a pulse and didnt give a second thought about the consequences of his actions. however, right now you didn't dear delve deeper, so desperate to experience the one thing all the girls on campus bragged about. 

“yes-yes, please. need you,” your body is overcome with confidence. pulling at grayson’s body to lean in closer and feel his surprisely soft lips agasint your own. both fighting for dominance before grayson wins and slips his tonuge in and takes control. sparks flying is the only way to describe it, you had never felt more of a connection in such a hungry and lusful makeout. it felt different, raw and real. a feeling totally unexpected and taking you off guard.

“tell me you’ll be mine and ill give you everything you want.”

“gray-“ you pull away from him. trying to piece together everything he’s was saying in his moment of desperation. did he say this to all his conquests?

“baby, ive been in love with you since forever-“ grayson was ready to go into a deeper confession, one he had been holding back ever since he first laid eyes on you- but was suddenly cut off by your lips on his. bringing him back down to earth and having him right where you wanted.

“show me. show me how much you love me.”

slowly inserting his penis into you tight hole, grayson holds you close. guiding your body back and fourth on his member as he fucked you out in the open space of a frat home, housed to multiple college students that could easily walk out at any moment and catch you in the act.

his thrusts deepened the more he felt your walls stretch around him and become accustomed to his size. he couldn’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling of your walls clenching and unclenching around him. you felt heavenly, making him feel like a virgin all over again as he tried to fight through the tightness of your folds.

“ahh, fuck! feels s-so good,” your head falls onto grayson’s shoulder. his body being the only source of support as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and hit all the spots inside you no one else had yet to uncover. grayson knew what he was doing.

“so pretty for me, look at you. so desperate and needy, such a good girl.”

“shit shit shit, im close!”

“cum for me, baby. wanna feel you release all over my dick, hmmm,” grayson’s hips pick up their pace. his hands tightening on your skin as he growls lowly in your ear. breathing in the intoxicating scent of you that kept him addicted. your body, your pussy, your love, everything he hoped it would be and more.

grayson felt his whole world officially start the minute he feels you cream around his dick. he held you, kissed you and fucked you through your intense orgasm. praising you for being such a good little cum slut and taking his dick so well.

you were more than a fuck to him. the second you gave your body to grayson, in a way he was used to having girls offer on a plate at the blink of a eye, grayson vowed to never disrespect you the way he done previously. he promised to treat you with the upmost love and appreciation, care and tenderness you deserved. you, y/n, tamed grayson dolan.

[rottingflovver]

Random relationship headcanons for the Decay of Angels boys!!

I love my evil husbands, enjoy this trainwreck

Fyodor Dostoevsky 🐁

Oh God. He smells like…a sewer rat

I'm not even joking like he probably smells unpleasant (not to the point where it's noticeable tho, only if you're really close to him)

If he's feeling fancy he'll throw on some cologne but don't bet on it

Hair is also really greasy

He scarcely eats but he's a big fan of sweet food (think ice cream and baked stuff) and trad. Russian food

Please for the love of God force this man to eat

He'll forget to eat + drink on a daily basis because he gets so caught up in work, how is he even still alive

Did I mention he also doesn't sleep

HOW is he canonically one of the smartest people yet he does stuff like this fr

If he trusts you (Lord knows how you'll achieve that) and he's tired (as per usual) he won't be opposed to the thought of just downright collapsing onto you

You'll rarely see this man anyhow, but when you do he'll just be sleeping

What a great boyfriend am I right (It's okay he needs the rest, plus patting his hair as he sleeps is kinda nice)

I believe his favorite places to have dates at are his or your apartment

Away from the public eye; just the two of you, alone

He can play his cello for you!

He'd encourage you to try it out as well, but you'd be so terror stricken by the thought of what he'd do to you if you broke it somehow that you just...would rather pass

I doubt he'd ever actually hurt you tho; yes, he's extremely distrustful and arguably heartless, but if you haven't done anything to insinuate you want to betray him…he'll be tame

Also, did I MENTION how cold he is

Maybe that's why he wears winter clothes in such warm weather ㅡ cuz otherwise he'd just freeze to death

Warm him up pls

Although he's not used to just casual physical contact so when you start holding his hands to warm them up he'll look at you like "??? Do you want to die??"

Once you explain it to him he's like "Oh"

His giant ego won't let him express it but know that he appreciates it

Also, this is a given, but Fyodor is extremely manipulative so you'll never really be sure if his feelings are sincere or not

Nikolai Gogol 🤡

I had to Google "what do clowns smell like" for this aye-

The answer: apparently cabbages and cotton candy

I really like that idea so I'm sticking with it xhsjhx, Nikolai smells like either cabbages or cotton candy; no in-between

Loves piroshki!!! Any kind!!! For reference; piroshki are small boat-shaped buns which can be both sweet and savory, as it depends on the filling (most common fillings include: ground meat, mashed potato, mushrooms, boiled egg with scallions, or cabbage. Typical sweet fillings are fruit (apple, cherry, apricot, lemon), jam, or quark)

Why did I just give a small piroshki lesson

Anyhow, yes, that's his favorite food so pls buy a lot of them for him (if you make them yourself he'll be so deeply touched, but be careful, he tends to see positive emotions towards someone as brainwashing)

Is he a bad cook??? Is he a good cook??? Does he just simply steal everything via coat and make it seem like he's the one that made it?? We don't know

His favorite places to have dates at are carnivals or theaters

He loves theaters so much omg

I have a feeling that if you told him he'd make a great actor he'd just evaporate out of joy

And he WOULD make a great one tho?? This man got talent

I'd imagine you're pretty much the only person he would ever open up to regarding the insane amount of guilt he feels

(Yet again, be careful, he's very unpredictable when it comes to people he grows fond of)

Do comfort him if he ever breaks down tho, please

Sleeping together? With this man? It's a wild experience

He moves around so much

He's also prone to night terrors (like I said, insane amounts of guilt) so if he ever stops moving you should probably wake him up, cuz that's a nightmare so horrible he just froze in place

Give him hug

Sigma 🎲

Sigma smells nice no cap

It's a mix of lavender and mint

Don't ask how that works it just does

I think he'd be the type to like any kind of food as long as it's lovingly made

He has no standards but at the same time he has extremely strict standards y'know

There's nothing specific he likes but if he likes it then he Likes It

He gets called a rock musician and people say he looks "alternative" when he's literally walking around in a suit but I digress

He'd let you do his makeup

I'd say he'd even encourage it

(Give him a punk rock alternative makeover lmao)

Also, to no one's surprise, his favorite place to have dates at is the Sky Casino

It's his home! He's proud of it!!

Please be proud of him as well it would mean the world to him

He's so cheesy, he'll stay stuff like "I feel most at peace with you, you are my home", and then get super embarrassed

If you smile fondly at him and say you like him just the way he is, cheesy remarks and all, you will be charged with murder because this man will DIE

He's so confused when it comes to a lot of stuff

Like he once asked "is interesting an emotion" and NO ONE answered him (poor bb :() but like be prepared for a lot of questions like that

Take your time and explain it to him, he'll be so grateful

Ngl, out of these 3, he's the best option bc he's not unreachable (cough cough Fyodor) and doesn't strive for emotional freedom so much that he'd kill whoever he grows attached to (cough cough Nikolai)

Soft husband

A little bit clingy but can you really blame him

Just be there for him, it'll be alright

Ivan Goncharov (bonus!) 🤕

He's in the Rat House not the DOA but I wanted to include him

(We stan Ivan in this house)

He's completely devoted to Fyodor

Idk how you'd ever even strike a conversation with him given he's constantly by the rat man's side

I'd imagine you'd have to be either a past friend (which I doubt he'd welcome) or an underling of Fyodor as well

Either way, please be kind to him

I think his devotion to Fyodor is a LITTLE bit unhealthy so if possible just draaag him away from that (will be very difficult to do)

He smells nice, like an expensive brand of shampoo and conditioner

I'd imagine his hair is really soft too, he'll gladly let you play with it

Braid it!! He'll look so pretty!!

BE GENTLE with the wound on his head, Fyodor isn't a professional surgeon, so even though the incision itself was a success he didn't really patch it up correctly

Just be gentle with it, if possible, take him to the hospital to get it checked out

He loves classical music!!

Expect to hear that playing in the background a lot

If you start helping him with the chores (like making tea and cleaning) at first he'll think of it as an insult to his ability, but after a while it'll grow on him

He'll learn to appreciate the little things

If you have any kind of favorite dish; he'll be frequently making just that

Likewise, if you ever request for something different, you'll get it made perfectly, just for you

A good, happy boye, deserves better

[ambivalentmarvel]

he he for celebratory Reasons (and also because i love The Boys) i decided @sreppub deserved some fluffy, mit-era ironhusbands, so here we are!! enjoy and interact with ali’s content for good health

not quite (puppy love)

The night Tony figures out he’s in love with Rhodey, he’s sixteen, Rhodey’s nineteen, and they’re at the movie theater.

They don’t have any special reason for going, but Tony doesn’t need one with Rhodey. It’s a Friday night, and for the moment, they’re both tired of picking a frat house to party at—their haunt of choice still hasn’t replaced the appliance they stole the last time the two of them got bored there, anyway—so they decide to go to a late-night showing, one of the not-as-recent movies the theater puts on just because, Tony guesses.

A New Hope isn’t that great, even if Tony is a little into the dude who plays Luke and can enjoy looking at him for a few hours, but Rhodey likes the story and the effects.

Tony’s thought about telling him that some of the backgrounds they use are realistic paintings—the director told him as much at some stupid event his dad made him go to—but he likes to let him speculate, sometimes, because Rhodey’s tangents about the things he’s interested in are rare but passionate when they get going.

Tony could listen to Rhodey talk, could watch his eyes glitter and hands gesture in circles like he always does when he gets carried away, for hours, and really, that should’ve clued him in long beforehand.

But it didn’t.

(As Rhodey would say, Tony’s both the smartest person he knows and dumb as a box of rocks. For his part, Tony appreciates the honesty.)

So they have a few beers each at their apartment—just enough to get tipsy, to make the room a little warm, to make their conversations about nothing and everything stretch long, like taffy, into the frosty night—and Tony says they should do something.

Rhodey shakes his head. “Kappa Sigma hasn’t gotten a new—”

“Toaster, I know, but it’s the weekend, and finals week is coming up, and then you’ll be stressed, and I’ll be stressed because you’re stressed, and neither of us will really feel like going out.” Tony takes a swig of his beer. He swindled the twelve-pack out of a douche from his microeconomics class trying to suck up to him, and it’s a Coors—not Tony’s favorite, but it gets the job done. “I don’t want to sit around all night and waste our time before then.”

Rhodey raises a brow consideringly. “Fair.” His eyes slide to Tony, on the other side of the couch from him so that Rhodey can use his lap as a footrest. “What were you thinking?”

And while Tony has ideas, like breaking into the zoo (hence the nickname platypus) or seeing how many packets of candy they can shoplift from the corner store with the sleazy owner (hence the nickname sour patch) again, Rhodey shoots those down, unfortunately.

“I can’t study as well when I’m worried about a court date,” he declines with a sigh of disappointment because, whether Rhodey will readily admit it or not, the shit Tony thinks of, while illegal, is fun.

In the end, Tony can’t come up with anything else, so Rhodey chooses. Ergo, the movies.

They’re both still a little buzzed, and the extra-buttery popcorn—Tony’s request, though Rhodey says the sogginess is gross—they share leaves kernels between their teeth that they pick out shamelessly, alone in the theater and not in the habit of being embarrassed besides.

It’s not the first movie they’ve gone to together, certainly isn’t the last, and it’s not even the best time they’ve had at the theater. However, as they sit, Tony drifting off here and there as he puts the armrest between them up to rest his head on Rhodey’s shoulder, it strikes Tony that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

The realization alone is enough to make Tony melt into his sweater, more content than he ever imagined possible growing up in a house where he stayed perched on his tiptoes in case he needed to take flight.

Tony stares at Rhodey adoringly in its wake, admiring the bridge of his nose, the slope of his brows, the depth of the eyes beneath them, and then there’s a dumb-one liner in the movie that makes Rhodey laugh. Tony, taking in everything about Rhodey while he remains oblivious, watches his grease-shiny lips split in a grin, and the dim light of the movie makes the expression sparkle with something Tony can’t find a word for but feels down to his toes.

It’s the fizz of champagne, the crackling of a fireplace, and the texture of a favorite blanket all at once, as homey as it is electrifying, and an oozing warmth spreads across the plains of Tony’s cheeks as his lips part in surprise at the intensity of the experience.

Rhodey never looks away from the screen, but though Tony is young, knows that, even if the emotion flooding him means as much as he suspects it does, he has a ways to go before he can do anything about it, he understands he’s never ever felt that way about a friend before.

(About anyone before.)

Rhodey shakes his head in amusement and takes a sip of his coke. “I love this movie,” he mutters, and though he’s said as much a thousand times before, Tony doesn’t mind hearing it again.

“Mhmm,” Tony breathes, unable to summon a more coherent response as he cuddles back into Rhodey’s side—an action that seems much more intimate than it did a second ago—and sends a flushed, grateful prayer up to any entity listening that he got assigned his best friend for a roommate. And if he’s pink in the face until he dozes off twenty minutes later, unable to stop wondering what Rhodey’s lips might feel like against his own, no one except himself knows. Not until much, much later, anyway, when Tony isn’t so little and Rhodey has only gotten more gorgeous with time and both of them beat around the bush for far too long when it comes to a silent, infallible affection they’ve nursed for each other over the better part of a decade.

But until then, Tony is sixteen, Rhodey is nineteen, and when Rhodey laughs, Tony thinks the whole world could hinge on the sound and still stay balanced from the way it fills him up to the brim.

(It always will, even if he has to wait.)

[darkpoisonouslove]

Can I give you a lot of work and ask you to answer all the questions in the otp question meme for Griffin x Faragonda, please? (I like them too much, and there's a lack of content about them...)

I love them, too, and I totally get the disappointment of having so little content about them. I feel it myself.

These are all set after season 1 in what is decidedly not an AU but canon keeps refusing to confirm.

1. Who is the most affectionate?

Faragonda has always been more touchy-feely but Griffin is completely on board with it. They’ve been apart long enough. She can more than use all of the clinginess.

2. Big spoon/Little spoon?

They switch but Faragonda is the big spoon more often. She loves giving Griffin all the affection. And Griffin melts in her arms.

3. Most common argument?

Where the line lies for witch pranks at official events. They really do not share the same view on that and the dissonance arises quite often. Not their most heated argument by a far cry but certainly the most common one.

4. Favorite non-sexual activity?

Having a tea party and just getting to talk to each other while they’re relaxing. It is the best stress relief to just sit together and chat about anything and everything.

5. Who is most likely to carry the other?

Faragonda. She totally sees it as yet another opportunity to be affectionate. Griffin is more surprised than Faragonda thought she’d be and she also seems more touched. That might have made Faragonda repeat it. Griffin is starting to feel spoiled.

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

Griffin’s is Faragonda’s eyes. She loves the contrast of their dark color that reminds a lot of a cloudy sky and how soothing they are to her. Just a look in Faragonda’s eyes lets her know that she’s home.

Faragonda loves all of Griffin but she especially loves running her fingers through Griffin’s hair. Or brushing it. Or braiding it. It’s super soft and just the lightest touch can send Griffin shivering which is Faragonda’s favorite part. She loves how responsive Griffin is to touches of her hair.

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Griffin starts getting jealous which is definitely new at least in a romantic context. She’s seen Faragonda date before and even encouraged it but now it is unbearable to even think about it.

Faragonda is more subtle about it. It’s her body language that changes - lingering gazes and touches. Maybe a couple remarks that are more suggestive. She’s careful not to push them back into not talking to each other, though.

8. Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

They don’t have nicknames for the other. They might just love saying the other’s name too much for that.

9. Who worries the most?

Both of them worry enough about each other’s well-being and the general state of things with the world at large - considering what they’ve lived to see - but Griffin actually worries a little more. Since she was the one who sort of initiated the rifts between them the previous times, she is worried about what might happen next and whether she won’t be stupid enough to let them get torn apart again. Faragonda has to reassure her that they will be fine and they will come out of anything together just like they always have.

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Faragonda. She thinks it’s the least she can do when she drags Griffin out to a restaurant when Griffin would prefer to stay home even if she will be the one to cook in that case. Griffin also remembers what Faragonda orders, however, and then makes it for her at home.

11. Who tops?

They switch but Faragonda tops more often. Griffin totally loves leaving her in charge, especially since Faragonda makes her feel like the most loved person in the world.

12. Who initiates kisses?

Griffin does. Faragonda is not shy at all, especially with Griffin but she actually likes it when Griffin initiates the kiss and directs it.

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Faragonda. Again, she is more about touching but once they’re holding hands, Griffin won’t let go of her.

14. Who kisses the hardest?

Griffin. She kisses like there’s no tomorrow and leaves Faragonda totally breathless but she’s not complaining.

15. Who wakes up first?

Griffin does most of the time. It is hard even for Faragonda to beat her to it when Griffin seems to have endless energy even if Faragonda is the one with the sunshine personality. Griffin claims that is exactly why Faragonda needs more time to recharge - she is spreading too much of her positivity around and it uses up her energy.

16. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Both of them. They have actually been late for work because they didn’t want to leave the bed and each other’s company.

17. Who says I love you first?

Griffin. Faragonda actually wants to take things at Griffin’s pace and not rush them into something they’re not ready for that could tear them apart.

18. Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

Faragonda does. Griffin is a little surprised by how Faragonda managed to sneak them in there without her noticing since she was the one who prepared the food. She knows the fairy has her ways, though, especially since Griffin is often distracted by her presence. And it makes her day so who is she to complain, really?

19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

They don’t really say anything but Griselda figures it out a couple months before Ediltrude and Zarathustra do. Saladin, on the other hands, only learns from the twins a long way down the line and is pretty salty that they didn’t tell him sooner.

20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

They are all ecstatic that it is finally happening because they all know how much Griffin and Faragonda have always meant to each other and how much not speaking had affected them. Seeing them finally taking the chance and making each other happy makes their friends happy, too.

21. Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

Faragonda totally drags Griffin into dancing whenever she feels like it. Griffin only complains about it a little. Just for the sake of it. She actually loves slow dancing with Faragonda but she has to be dramatic. It’s good for the soul.

22. Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

Griffin is the better cook and she cooks almost always unless she is dead tired in which case Faragonda might take the risk and try her hand at making dinner. She isn’t actually that bad at cooking but she feels her meals can never live up to Griffin’s even if Griffin claims they’re really good.

23. Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Griffin. Faragonda has expressed profound shock over her never ending arsenal of those but Griffin keeps delivering.

24. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Griffin, most of the time. She is a witch; she has a reputation to uphold. And it is pretty fun (and hot) to see Faragonda get flustered. Except, Faragonda retaliates sometimes and it is Griffin that ends up flustered. But she has to face the consequences for her actions and Faragonda makes up for it anyway. ;)

25. Who needs more assurance?

Griffin. She has some guilt in storage both in regards to her relationship with Faragonda and just in general and is relieved when Faragonda reassures her that everything is okay, especially between the two of them.

26. What would be their theme song?

Find Me by Sigma ft Birdy (acoustic version)

27. Who would sing their child back to sleep?

Griffin. Faragonda might join her but she’s also quite content just listening and watching. She also gets pretty lulled by Griffin’s singing.

28. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Griffin is impossible when Faragonda can’t be with her for whatever reason. She gets irritable and starts making everyone miserable by turning even more pedantic than usual. Zarathustra and Ediltrude do their best to keep her occupied which sometimes involves lots of wine and chess.

Faragonda definitely handles separation better by doing things that will make her feel closer to Griffin like reading Griffin’s favorite book or tending to the plants. It doesn’t mean that she doesn’t miss her super much, though.

29. One headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

They’ve ended up seriously hurting each other - both physically and emotionally - while Faragonda was with the Company and Griffin was with the Coven. They didn’t necessarily want to fight each other but were forced by the circumstances. There was also a decent amount of anger and despair on either side and the possibility that they might have actually hurt each other on purpose freaks them both out.

30. One headcanon about this OTP that mends it

They retire together on Domino and help raise Daphne and Bloom’s kids. Also, they have a peaceful life because they have been through so much and deserve some rest.

[nojam-secrettime]

142. “Hold my hand so he gets jealous.” [NCT’s Johnny]

Genre: college!AU, suggestive fluff?, has swearing

Word Count: 3k

Admin: Rianne⭐️

Note: I’m like so rusty, I haven’t written in ages. But here you go, have some of my newest bias.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just not really into you anymore.” Sanghyun said as he shrugged his shoulders before running off to meet his boys.

You expected it, of course, you had felt Sanghyun losing interest in you but you kept denying your gut feeling. He had asked you to be his girlfriend after all. Nobody asked you ever, so the fact that said he liked you and gave you all of his attention was a drastic change from any other boy you had liked, you said yes.

It had started out great, he understood that he couldn’t come between you and your best friend. And that nobody could ever make you stop hanging out. And he never seemed to get jealous about it either. He called you to talk before you went to sleep but after gaming, of course. He picked you up at your house and drove the both of you to school. You shared one of your general education classes together and sat next to each other, until he went off to engineering and you went on to the theatre for dance.

He waited for you after your rehearsals and took you home, or took you to dinner and then took you home. It had all become pretty routine for you in the last 6 months. Until he stopped waiting for you after rehearsals. And he stopped calling you before you went to bed. And he stopped picking you up to go to school together.

He said it was because he had so much extra work to do, he was learning how to fix his computer and was behind everyone else in his class. And you believed him, your older brother had taken engineering and he had spent days at school at a time. But you just had that nagging feeling he was cheating on you, your intuition told you, but you denied.

Until the rumors started, Sanghyun was spending a lot of time with Yona. The pretty redhead in the class you shared together, she was cute and hadn’t said much to you all year other than exchanging hellos. He still sat next to you in class but you could see him texting every now and then when he thought you weren’t looking.

You sighed to yourself, of course he lost interest, who were you anyway? No one special, dance was your passion and you liked playing video games with friends in your free time. You put it in effort with some makeup but with how often you had rehearsals, it was easier to wear leggings or sweats than to dress up something cute to classes.

You adjusted the strap on your shoulder and found yourself already arriving to the theater’s back door. You steeled your nerve before heading inside, you didn’t need any of them to be telling you ‘I told you so.’ Several of them had warned you against Sanghyun when he first asked you, saying he was a playboy and that you were just his flavor of the month. The only one who didn’t say anything was him.

“Hello, Your Highness.” He jokingly bowed before you and then threw his arm over your shoulder. He was never gonna let that down when you had been casted as Sleeping Beauty and he had gotten Prince Charming in high school, he started calling you that and had been ever since.

“Hey best friend.” You replied in with as much normal happiness as you could muster but that wouldn’t fool him. It never did. You continued walking towards the dressing rooms so you could put your things down and start warming up.

“Hey hey, none of that. What’s wrong? Something happen with Sanghyun?” He asked you, putting both hands on your shoulders and making you lkkk at him.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it here, Johnny. Can we talk about it after?” You said, your eyes drifting off to the side and at the spot on the floor that looked like old gum. His finger tightened just slightly on your shoulders before he pulled away and let you put your things down. You walked back out of the dressing room and he immediately took your hand, “Fine, tell me on our way home then.”

You kept your mouth shut, and merely nodded. That’s how it used to be, before Sanghyun. Johnny had always walked you home and walked you to school, ever since you were little. He lived just down the road and a block away, and you had met on the playground at the park when you were 6. He stopped a boy from pulling your hair and since then, your parents encouraged your play dates.

You went through rehearsal on auto-pilot but you could feel the gazes of the others. They had probably heard the news already, that or Sanghyun was already dating Yona right after he broke up with you. The whispers didn’t help either, the gossipers were going. Maybe she didn’t put out, maybe she was cheating on him first, maybe maybe maybe.

You soldiered on through rehearsal, Johnny was your partner as usual and kept sneaking glances at you to make sure you were okay. You would always try to give him a small smile of reassurance. But he wouldn’t buy it. Granted, you weren’t too sad per se, you had seen it coming. What really killed you was the idea of no one else ever liking you the same way again.

Nobody approached you ever, you had to do it, you had asked a crush about it once, and he told you he couldn’t because Johnny was your best friend. It took you by surprise at first but nothing would come between you and Johnny. All the girls who asked him out always asked in a way that told him if he dated them, he’d have to ditch you, and he always told them no. And there were a lot of girls asking.

So there was no way you could even think about someone asking you to drop Johnny. Not after everything you guys had been through, failing grades, failed auditions, great plays, pet deaths and not to mention, all of the bullies he kept away from you. No way in hell, he was your best friend, it was a package deal or nothing.

Rehearsal ended and immediately everyone began talking, it had been silence except music and counts but since then the theater rose up in a cacophony of sounds and distorted voices as everyone spoke.

“Are you going to the party tonight?” Jaemi asked you. There was a party every Friday night at one of the fraternities, this week it was Sigma Pi’s turn, the engineering frat. How ironic.

Before you could open your mouth and tell her no, Johnny came over, slinging his arm in his usual spot on your shoulders. “Yes, yes she is. Actually we both are.” He said, smiling at Jaemi.

Jaemi gave you a smile that felt forced, of course it did, she was Yona’s best friend. “Great. I guess I’ll see you guys there then.” She walked away right after.

You turned to Johnny, “I don’t wanna go to the party tonight, it’s Sigma Pi’s party.” You frowned at him. You wanted to do your best to avoid him and Yona at all costs, it would just be another blow to your ego that no one would like you again.

“And that’s why we’re going. Because Sanghyun is going to be there, and you are going to look like the hot little shit I know you can be, and he’s going to regret ever hurting you.” Johnny smirked, as you felt his anger in his words. He hadn’t complained about Sanghyun before but he was probably just mad that Sanghyun had hurt your feelings.

You groaned, knowing that there was no way to fight him on this, once Johnny made up his mind, it was settled. You were doing whatever he decided on, it’s how you both auditioned for Sleeping Beauty to begin with. And it worked out perfectly fine. Your bag in hand, the two of you made your way back to your house. He walked you all the way to the door before stopping you, “Wear that top with the straps that buckle and that pair of high waisted shorts that make your ass pop. Oh and that black heel you always wear out. You know which one.” He told you.

“Yeah, yeah, Charming. I got it, the usual slay outfit for when you wanna chase girls away or we have to kiss ass so the fraternity buys fundraiser tickets.” You nodded, before pushing him away so he could go home and get ready too, the party was gonna be bustling in about an hour and even then you guys were gonna be fashionably late.

“See you soon, Your Highness.” Johnny waved as soon as you were inside the house and ran off. You sighed to yourself, putting your things down. It didn’t sound like mom and dad were home yet, so you hopped in the shower and started to get dressed. Your hair was long enough to braid and blow dry so it fell in waves down your back while you did your usual makeup and pulled the outfit on as instructed.

It always took you by surprise when you saw yourself in clothes like this, dance kept you in shape but you never really got to see it with the leggings and oversized shirts. But now, it was obvious, you could clean up real nice. You filled a small purse with the essentials and swiped a red lip stain on when the doorbell rang. You pulled the strappy heels on and answered without looking knowing it was Johnny.

He wore the biggest smile on his face as he appraised you, “Yes, you. Beautiful and hot as always.” He said, complimenting you as he always said you so rightly deserved. He cleaned up nice himself, button down with a lot of his chest exposed due to lack of buttons on, dark denim jeans and his knockoff timberlands that he didn’t care if alcohol spilled on. Messy bedhead hair that he always had, and his random assortment of rings on his fingers just for show.

“You look good too.” You told him, knowing he deserved a compliment just as much. “Did you break off another button on that shirt?” You asked, noticing the fraying threads.

Johnny smiled sheepishly, before nodding his head, “I threw it in the dryer because I forgot about it and then it ate another button.” He took your hand, before leading you to his car, the Sigma Pi house was on the other side of campus and nowhere near close enough where you could walk in those heels.

“I keep telling you, you can’t dry this shirt. You’ll have to get another one if you ever need to audition in a suit.” You shook your head and rolled your eyes at him but he knew you weren’t too upset with the smile on your face. He opened the door for you and helped you into the car before going around the other side himself. The drive was short as no one else was on the road and he sped there.

There was one last street parking a little way over in front of the house and he quickly paralleled and came over to help you. With your heels, you were still nowhere near as tall as he was. But still, it helped when he offered you his arm. You walked in with your head held high, determined to not let anyone get you down.

Someone offered the two of you unopened beer bottles and you graciously took it. Johnny had an opener on his keys and helped you with yours. You clinked once before the both of you took a sip. It had been a minute since you drank, because you had that audition, but the cold beer felt so good, warming you from the inside out. “Now, where is that jerk.” Johnny said, taking another gulp of his beer, it was already more than half down the bottle.

He walked the two of you around the living room and towards the kitchen where random bits of food was bound to be. Everyone was looking at you, as you made your way through the frat house. It felt so weird to have so many eyes on you, you could feel the gazes and from you could tell it was mostly shock. You kept your eyes down, for the most part until you saw him. He was already cozying up to Yona in the loveseat, with her on his lap and a beer in the other hand. You caught his eye before quickly looking away before he could give any sort of look.

“Hold my hand so he gets jealous.” You murmur softly, but Johnny was close enough that he could hear you. He looked around until he saw Sanghyun and Yona together. You saw his jaw clench before he turned to you with that mischievous smile. He only did that when he was about to do something that you might not be on board with.

“I have a better idea.” He said, before crowding you up against the fridge. The cold stainless steel gave you goosebumps and you could feel your body react to the cold. His arm rested on the wall just above your head, and he leaned in so close, you could feel his breath tickle your neck. You were positive your eyes were bulging out of their sockets and your chest tightened as you held your breath.

“What’re you doing?” You asked him in a tight voice. His breath continued to tickle your skin as he lingered by your neck, his other hand came down to rest on your hip, pulling you close.

You swore you felt his smirk against your skin without him actually touching you. Johnny never did this, even when he was pushing girls away, the only thing he’d ever do was put his arm around you and pull you close. Or he’d let you drink out of his drink, to show that you two were together to deter girls away. Before he could answer, a throat cleared beside you guys.

“What are you doing with my girlfriend?” Sanghyun asked as you realized that he was the one who cleared his throat, your eyes immediately darted over to the loveseat and Yona was now sitting there alone as she watched Sanghyun.

Johnny kept his arm above you but merely moved away from your neck so he could look at Sanghyun as he answered, “Don’t you mean your EX girlfriend, since you broke up with her just before her dance rehearsal?” He said loud and clear for other people in the room to hear.

Of course, in that moment the DJ shut the music off and the audible gasp from everyone could be heard around the room. Sanghyun narrowed his eyes at Johnny before speaking, “I’m not too sure what you mean. Y/N is my girlfriend.” He said, stepping closer to the two of you.

Your mind raced as you couldn’t quite understand why he was doing this, Sanghyun literally just had Yona sitting in his lap. And he broke up with you, like actually said it was over and walked away. Did he think that just because you didn’t tell anyone, that he could just take it back?

Johnny scoffed, not moving away in the slightest, in fact he moved closer to you, pressing his body against yours just slightly but not uncomfortably. It felt as if he was making sure Sanghyun couldn’t try and forcefully pull you away. “That’s funny, pretty sure Y/N is my girlfriend.” Johnny retorted and this time you audibly gasped. You stood there frozen, shock, realization, disbelief flooded your system. Was he lying? Was he making shit up to make Sanghyun jealous? Was he serious?

Sanghyun stepped closer, “Excuse me?” He raised his voice at Johnny. “Did you say girlfriend?”

“What do you not understand about what just I said. Y/N is my girlfriend, you broke up with her this afternoon and I realized it was now or never.”

You gaped, mouth open, mouth closed, mouth open. You couldn’t find the words, what did this mean? Did Johnny like you? Has he always liked you? When did it start? Why didn’t he ask you before ? Granted, you were dating Sanghyun so why would he say anything.

“I knew it, you’ve been cheating on me with him haven’t you? That’s why you didn’t even cry over me, because you were already dating him! I knew it!” Sanghyun said before quickly walking away.

You finally let out the breath you had been holding right after, and Johnny looked to you before smirking. “Did you mean it?” You asked him in a quiet voice, you looked down to avoid his eyes in case he said no.

His hand on your hip moved as he picked up your chin with his two fingers to look at him. “Of course I did.” He said and you continued to gape at him. “I should’ve told you a long time ago, but I just didn’t want to fuck up our friendship. I’ve always liked you Y/N. Always.”

You closed your mouth quickly due to the shock but came to the same realization. You had liked Johnny, you always did, in the back of your mind, but also refused to acknowledge it. You guys were together since elementary, there was no way you were gonna fuck that up. But it did always make you happy when he walked you to school, you always wanted him to walk you home. Even when girls confessed to him after the bell rang in high school, you always waited for him and the two of you would get ice cream after.

You hated seeing him flirt with the sorority girls for them to buy fundraiser tickets but you knew it had to be done. You also hated seeing girls want him for themselves, you used to chalk it up to not wanting to lose your best friend but it was more than that. You didn’t want them to have him because you wanted him for yourself. He was your biggest supporter as well as the one who helped bring you back up when you were down. It was Johnny after all, the Prince Charming to your Sleeping Beauty.

You laughed and shook your head, smiling wide, “You know I think I’ve always liked you too, just didn’t want to lose my best friend.” You told him and you watched as he gave you his biggest smile.

“Good, I’m gonna do what I should’ve done so long ago.” He told you, before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. The whole world spun, your mind blanked as sparks flew, the room could’ve been on fire for all you knew. He pulled away but not before swiping his tongue along your bottom lip. “Let’s get outta here?” He asked you, pushing off the wall and taking your hand, intertwining your fingers.

“Yes please.” You said, already seeing the room devolve down into a massive orgy dance party that it usually did. He led the way out the door before you guys climbed into his car, he still held the door open for you to get in.

When he got into the driver’s seat, he put his hand on your thigh before starting the car and rested it back on your thigh. The touch was welcome and surprisingly a comfort, just as much as it was a tease. “Oh by the way.” He said casually, “I am the reason no guy’s asked you out. Anytime they ask me for advice on how to ask you out, I quickly shut them down and tell them you’re with me.”

“What? But what about Sanghyun?”

“He never came to me for advice and he kinda just put you on the spot one day after your class together, didn’t he? I didn’t even get a chance to ask you before you could answer.” Johnny said, “but it doesn’t matter now, you’re mine now Sleeping Beauty. And I’m not letting you go.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Charming.”

[ibroughtyoumybullets]

I was wondering if you could post all the results? If not thats cool I just like reading all the other results too esp if they seem written well

sure! pasting them under a cut bc i feel like im clogging peoples dashes today

gerard-coded gerard-girl

ok gerard kinnie. hows that martyr complex working out for you? im sure youre a lot of fun but have you considered listening instead of talking at least every ONCE in a while? sexy tho.

gerard-coded mikey-girl

this is an interesting one. arguably you share this with gerard himself. you can take a little weight off your shoulders and allow yourself to just like ... chill, you know? and i mean chill - not hide away from the world or spend time with people while staring into the distance and never interacting. youre super funny and interesting, and once you start talking about something you care about, youre impossible to shut up - but everybody is so endeared by your passion that nobody wants you to be quiet anyhow.

gerard-coded ray-girl

JESUS CHRIST youre a hard worker. a little bit off your rocker, which you know and are a little bit unnerved by - but you have drive. not only do you have drive, you have the tools to make it happen. i promise. everything you find yourself coveting in other people is inside you. you just gotta let it shine through.

gerard-coded frank-girl

(lol you got frera[GUNSHOT]) anyhow. youre a FORCE of nature. you have a vision and youre gonna make it happen - whether its through careful planning or just through luck and dedication. youre funny, charming as hell whether you know it or not, and an absolute sweetheart. maybe stop worrying about divine timing and the microscopic details of life and go live instead. its okay. you can.

mikey-coded mikey-girl

lmao okay mikey kinnie. im begging you to express an opinion that is solely your own ONCE. you seem like you would be fun to hang out with at a party, even if its just so i can talk your ear off while we smoke outside. maybe eat a vegetable.

mikey-coded gerard-girl

rguably this is the result mikey would get. you like to lay low, just outside of the spotlight. but the spotlight belongs to you too. seriously, it does. you dont have to wait for somebody to give you the opportunity you want - whether its because youre scared to take it for yourself, or know it would be easier. go and get it. its waiting. people love you because you are whip smart and kind as fuck, but you dont take an prisoners.

mikey-coded ray-girl

stop people watching and pay attention to me, first of all. you dont need to have a carefully formulated plan of action to move through this world - you can just move through it. its waiting for you to move through it. whatever it is youre biding your time about - stop it and start moving. i dont care if its not perfect yet, and i dont care that you want it to be perfect. nothing is perfect. just dive in, its good for you. youre too clever for your own good, and love people fiercely.

mikey-coded frank-girl

we should be friends. youre like the puppy dog frat-dude whos the only person in sigma-gamma-apple-pi who is actually nice and good to spend time with. you got a lot going on under the surface that you dont always choose to share with other people - especially not people who you dont consider close friends or family. but that well of emotion and thought has to go somewhere. youre earnest, clever, and protective of your inner circle, and you love with your whole heart.

ray-coded ray-girl

lmao ray kinnie. unclench. please. just take a deep breath and stop trying to control the very fabric of reality. and give yourself a fucking BREAK. you are, however, a sweetheart and definitely have a super pleasant and grounding energy.

ray-coded gerard-girl

tell me youre scared to express yourself without telling me youre scared to express yourself. you think youre not good enough to do what it is you want to do so youre waiting for somebody else to do it for you, or for it to fall in your lap. stop it. you are capable of doing any and everything that you want. everybody is rooting for you, because you are a delight to be around. naturally, i mean. whatever face you feel like you gotta put on for people is unnecessary. who you are at your core is lovely and loveable in its purest form. stop hiding.

ray-coded mikey-girl

youre kind of an enigma. you know that though, its on purpose. but the mask isnt necessary. go be your fucking self and take what you want. its all within your grasp. your cool exterior is trying to hide a big, big heart - and honestly, its not doing a great job. everybody can see how much passion you have, how much you want the things you want, and thats not a bad thing. go kick ass.

ray-coded frank-girl

you wanna hang out? youre the last resort parent-friend. like sure, you'll step up to the plate and make sure everybody is doing good and taking care of themselves when the actual parent-friend needs a break, but most of the time you wanna go buck wild with everybody else. and you should let yourself. youre enamoured with people who live with their heart on their sleeve, and dont try to make sure everything is perfect and beyond critique. unclench and let yourself live a little. you deserve it.

frank-coded frank-girl

lmao frank kinnie. bro take it from one frank-coded frank-girl to another ... its not that deep, and WE'RE not that deep. you arent like. inherently evil or somebody who breaks everything they touch or whatever. feel your emotions like a normal person and then move on. you are however SUPER fun to be around and always down to clown, and you care a lot, and the people around you know and appreciate that.

frank-coded gerard-girl

(lol you got frera[GUNSHOT]) anyhow. whats it like being the sexiest bitch in the room and always knowing it? you are so smart, so talented, and everybody you come across thinks youre bees motherfucking knees. dont get all bashful on me. its true. but you gotta stop expecting the worst, and trying to plan around it. the world isnt holding a knife to your back, waiting to strike. it wants the best for you. take a deep breath and go get what you want. you are MORE than capable of it.

frank-coded mikey-girl

you try to keep everything moving smoothly, but you know when you have to intervene. you are so so loving, smart, and talented (YES, YOU ARE TALENTED - ACCEPT IT) even if you wish you could keep your emotions a little more underwraps. thats not necessary. you have a big old heart and you gotta accept that. stop wishing for shit and go get it. its there for you.

frank-coded ray-girl

breathe. right now. five seconds in, hold for four, out for seven. okay good. now listen: YOURE GOOD ENOUGH FOR WHATEVER IT IS YOU WANT TO DO. you got all these feelings that you try to channel solely into work, and im telling you that sometimes you can just let them be, or better yet, express them with your words to another person and then move on. you want to be the best version of yourself - but you already are. life isnt a game you gotta keep leveling up in. youre smart as fuck, talented as fuck, and a big big softie. own that.

im SO sorry if this doesnt cut correctly this is so long

[anotherashley]

Give Me Thunder // 1988

Summary: When you’re part of rival fraternities the last thing you’re supposed to do is fall for the enemy, but then, Patrick’s never known anyone like Jonathan Toews before.

*

In retrospect, Patrick really should’ve known better.

Homecoming is a huge night for most fraternities, including his own, the Delta Chi house. They’re known for going absolutely balls to wall with the planning, preparation, and execution of their parties. It’s an event. An evening to remember if you will. And where’s Patrick? Wedged in some hallway at the Sigma Alpha Epsilon mansion drinking shitty overpriced beer from a keg, sweating his nuts off, and listening to fucking Chumbawamba playing from their high-priced stereo system.

This disgrace of a party deserves no attendees, and yet, the house is packed, every little inch and every single corner filled with Sigma Alpha brothers, their dates, and friends. A house of garbage monkeys. A house of ill repute.

"It's not that bad," Dayna says, exasperated.

Dayna, the reason he’s in this shithole in the first place.

Patrick narrows his eyes, watching her and the room suspiciously. "Oh, but it is, my friend. It is."

“You’re overreacting,” she says and grins.

Patrick frowns. He’s not usually one to get overheated, but it’s like a sauna in this joint. He pulls at his tie to loosen it, listening to some Billie Eilish song come on next. "I can't believe you made me come here."

"And I can't believe you wore a hot pink tie when I told you specifically I was wearing a royal blue dress, so I guess we're even."

Patrick surveys the slinky strapless number she’s sporting and his own shimmering tie. It’s not...awful. "I think it looks good together,” he shrugs.

She snorts. “You would.”

“I'm taking that as a compliment.”

“It's not one,” she fires back.

“Hurtful.” 

Dayna’s fun and gorgeous, wicked smart. They met last spring in Linear Algebra and became fast friends, partly out of necessity because the math department was full of dull assholes, and partly because they got along so easily. There’s this pressure to find dates for every Greek event, someone to hook up with or to show off, and Patrick just wanted - wants - to relax, hang out, have a good time and not be plagued the entire night with what might happen at the end or if his date will be disappointed. It’s why he asked Dayna in the first place - there are no strings. 

He hadn’t really counted on her betraying him in this obscene of a manner, however. Sigma Alpha? Really?!

“I'm sorry,” she says, rubbing his shoulder, but she seems distracted. She’s been looking off into the crowd as if she’s trying to find someone, ever since they arrived. 

Patrick tickles at her arm to get her attention and when she turns, smiling, he says. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“Will you forgive me for ditching you? Because I'm about to do that too.”

Patrick blinks. “What?”

She scrunches her nose, just a little, and takes his wrist as if in apology. “It's not you, it's me.”

Patrick barks out a laugh. “You're not serious. Here? Now?!”

“I know,” she says, and begins patting his hand like she’s his goddamn grandmother or something. “I'm the worst, but it's really not you.”

“It must be a little me.”

“It's mostly Brent.”

Patrick gasps. As far as reactions go, it might be slightly overdone, but still. “Brent Seabrook? A fucking Sigma Alpha. Dayna!”

Dayna manages to at least look contrite. Sort of. She drops his hand gently. “I can see you're mad. Understandable. I'm gonna go...over there. And hopefully, when I see you Monday you'll be less mad. Bye Pat!”

“Bye Traitor!” he yells. He hopes the whole party hears it over the awful music playing in this awful house on this awful night.

Patrick watches her walk over to a table with a group of guys centered around Seabrook. They took up camp there shortly after Patrick and Dayna arrived. And more and more people have gathered around since. People always seem to gravitate to Seabrook, so Patrick really shouldn't be surprised that Dayna is too. The guy is huge in that cuddly bear sort of way, but with perfect hair, and the kind of laid back attitude that most people never really achieve.

Too bad he's a fucking Sigma Alpha.

God.

Patrick hates Sigma Alphas.

He's not joking when he tells this to everyone, and he means everyone: from the freshman rushes to his TA, Marian, from his Tuesday-Thursday biochem lab, to Lee, his favorite delivery guy, to generally anyone who passes him on the street. Sigma Alphas are self-obsessed, shitstain, egomaniacs, that ruin everything and have no concept of fun. They’re the absolute worst.

So, of course, it only makes sense on this wreck of a night that Patrick runs into the very worst one of them all after Dayna abandons him.

“Amazing,” a smug voice says from behind him.

It’s truly unfortunate Patrick recognizes that voice so well seeing how he can’t stand Jonathan Toews. One of life’s evil jokes, apparently, because Toews is the very embodiment of gum under his shoe, or a flat tire on a rainy day, or some other horrible Alanis Morissette analogy.

The point is...he’s terrible.

Patrick turns slowly, already annoyed when he sees the amusement written all over Jonny’s stupid, grinning face.

“It's not you, it's me,” he mocks. “I didn't know that was a thing people actually still said.”

“Well, that’s what happens when no one will go out with you, Toews,” Patrick fires back with a wink. “No one talks to you.”

Jonny’s smile fades. “Says the guy who just got dumped.”

They’re not exactly standing near each other, but the music is loud and to keep from shouting Patrick takes a step closer, having to tilt his head back just a bit when Jonny moves in too.

“At least I had a date.”

“A date that dumped you for one of my friends.”

Patrick clenches his fist at the smug expression on Toews’ stupid face. “What, you think you can do better?”

“I don't think, I know I can do better.”

“Oh really,” Patrick scoffs.

“Absolutely,” he says. “I could get any girl’s number in here before you.”

It’s a ridiculous statement. Inane. Besides the fact that Jonny has a clear advantage since this is his house and he probably knows half of these girls, it’s a dumb bet to make to prove he’s somehow, someway, better at not getting dumped. Which was the original argument? Maybe? Fuck, Patrick isn't even sure any more he’s too pissed off.

But he takes one look at Jonny’s smirking face and knows he’s going to rise to the challenge. He hates himself a little for not being able to just walk away.

“Go ahead then,” Patrick says, sealing his fate. “Show me your moves.”

Jonny eyes him, nonchalant. “You couldn't handle it.”

“Couldn’t handle what? You haven’t even declared a wager yet. That confident in your moves?”

Jonny straightens his back, stands tall, and pauses for a moment like he’s gathering himself, then he looks down at Patrick, down into his goddamn soul and smirks, calm, confident, cocky. “Hey,” he says. “What’s up?”

“Uh,” Patrick says, confused.

Jonny moves in closer, the corners of his mouth curving up and up as he leans in. “I’m here now. What are your other two wishes?”

Did he just…?

Patrick laughs, can’t help himself. “Good god that’s an awful pick-up line. F minus. You’re supposed to be impressing me - I mean her, dude. That just makes you look like a stuck up jackass.”

Jonny’s brow furrows, displeased. “Okay, what about: Does your left eye hurt? Because you've been looking right all day.”

Less awful, but Patrick can do better. “Are you a 90-degree angle? 'Cause you are looking right!”

“Was that a math joke?”

Patrick glares. “Maybe.”

Jonny snorts.

“Don't shit talk math.”

He waits for Jonny to say something else, now that Patrick’s exposed a weakness, but instead he taps a finger against his chin, as if in thought again.

“I seem to have lost my phone number. Can I have yours?” he tries.

Patrick shakes his head. “Do you know what my shirt is made of? Boyfriend material.”

This time Jonny laughs, vivid and real, and it brightens his whole face in a way Patrick’s never seen before, not this close up. His eyes are almost black in this dimmed corner of the house and they sparkle when the light hits them. He takes another step in, closer, so they’re just a foot away from each other. When he catches Patrick’s gaze he says low, voice softer, “I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. I wouldn't forget a pretty face like that.”

Patrick swallows and pulls at his collar. It’s really fucking hot in this house. It probably shouldn’t be this hot in September.

“That’s um,” he coughs. “That’s not terrible.”

“It’s the one,” Jonny says, lips curving.

He’s more pleased with himself than he has any right to be, the arrogant dickbag. He thinks he’s already won this thing and they haven’t even ironed out all of the details yet.

Patrick purses his lips. “Anyway, what do I win if I get a number first?”

“You have to win first.”

Patrick steps forward, determined, until they’re only inches apart and whispers, “Watch me.”

Jonny doesn’t cede any ground, tall and looming, too casual. He makes Patrick’s skin itch in the worst way. If he could just get Jonny to break,  just a little, it’d be worth all this shitty night has wrought upon him.

He shoulders past Jonny roughly, using his upper body strength to edge Jonny a step back as he passes. It’s a small victory, but he relishes it as he looks around the room for a willing participant. Almost everyone is already clustered in groups or pairs so the pickings are slim. He’s about to turn into the next room when he sees two girls tucked away against a bay window, one texting on her phone and talking, the other, curvy, cute and brunette, looking bored beside her.

She’s wearing one of those side strap dresses that are incredibly sparkly, and her feet are shoeless. When Patrick steps up to her, smiling, she’s still almost as tall as him.

“Hey,” he says, cool, calm.

He’s got this. No problem.

“No,” she says, bored expression unchanging.

“I just-”

“No,” she repeats. She’s not even looking at him, which is a little rude.

Patrick drops the chill guy act and goes for something more sincere, genuine, as he bites his lip.

“Look, you want to maybe-”

“No,” she says again, this time sharper. “No, go away.”

“Well, alrighty then. You have a nice night,” Patrick salutes her, spins on his heel and walks away.

That was a dumpster fire.

He can already see Jonny laughing from across the room. Goddamnit fucking bullshit fuck. A weak-ass effort, and of all the times.

He trudges back to their original spot expecting the gloating of a lifetime, but Jonny has his chin tilted up and is already passing Patrick by, headed for somewhere and someone in particular.

Patrick’s eyes trail him, riveted to the way Jonny moves through the crowd like he owns it, as if the room bends to his will.

There’s a petite strawberry blonde with black gauges in her ears and dark red lipstick painted on her mouth, chatting with some skinny kid that's clearly trying too hard. She turns to Jonny when he steps up, her smile curious, but her arms crossed. Patrick can't look away, watching them talk back and forth, the way her expression shifts from curious to suspicious to amused. He barely says more than a handful of words to her before she’s writing her number on his palm.

And where did he even get a pen? Did he just have the pen on him? Who carries pens on a night like this?!

“How the fuck…,” Patrick murmurs to himself, and receives a weird look from one the Sigma rushes, as they walk by. 

Before Patrick can blink Jonny’s returned, standing straight and smug in front of him as he holds his hand up.

“Here ya go, slick.”

Slick? This guy is so lame. 

Patrick sighs. “Double or nothing?

“No way,” Jonny says. “Don’t filch on the bet now, Kane.”

It was worth a shot.

“Fine,” he shrugs, mentally preparing himself for whatever humiliation is about to come his way. “What do you want?”

Jonny hums. “Loser gives winner a blowjob?”

Patrick tries to replay the words Jonny just said, again, like it’s a recorded message and if he can listen to it closely enough he’ll understand. They’ll make more sense if he can hear them one more time. 

There might be a 404 ERROR message currently running through Patrick’s brain.

He needs a rewind button. 

He can’t...

He...

Patrick coughs his way into a laugh. “Uh...what?!

It's not that it's a secret either of them are into guys. Patrick's seen Jonny around campus getting friendly with both men and women more than a few times. Still, it's quite the leap to assume Patrick, a Delta Chi, and therefore a superior species is interested in him, a mere peasant.

“Are you serious?” he asks, still laughing. It might be a bit of a hysterical laugh. It’s pretty high pitched.

Jonny doesn't look insulted, the cocky asshole. His expression is more impatient, if anything, as he steps into Patrick's space and says, “Do I look like I’m fucking with you?”

Not yet, Patrick thinks and feels his dick twitch. Jesus. It's too goddamn hot in this house. Sweat gathering at his temples and his tie too tight around his neck. He pulls it looser and tries to shake off his jitters.

“That's a bold assumption you're making, dude.”

“Are you saying you don't want to?” Jonny asks.

The truly gross part is how Patrick only hesitates a second before looking him over, really takes a moment to let his eyes wander up and down the length of Jonny’s long body, his muscular arms, the broad shoulders, the ruddy tint to his cheeks, the sculpted jaw, his pink lips and dark brown eyes. The kind of eyes that are warm and so so intense, and currently trained all on him.

On Patrick.

Patrick’s traitorous dick thickens in his pants, his own body enacting a mutiny upon him.

He swallows roughly. “Uh...no.”

“Let’s go up to my room then,” Jonny says.

Patrick should leave. He should leave.

Instead, he follows.

*

Walking up the stairs to Jonny's room the only thing Patrick can think about is that he wishes he'd had more to drink. He’s not even buzzed enough to realistically blame this error in judgment on alcohol. But he refuses to blame himself either so it's pretty obviously all Dayna’s fault, and Brent Seabrook’s. Which means it's Sigma Alpha’s fault. 

So there, the world makes sense once again.

The upstairs is less crowded than the rest of the house, most of the bedroom doors shut, probably locked to prevent outsiders from fucking on house members beds. Jonny’s room is at the end of the hall, tucked away next to the bathroom. Jonny lets them both in, ushering Patrick inside first and flipping the lock behind them.

It’s a single, which shouldn’t be surprising since Jonny is the Sigma President, but it catches Patrick off guard all the same. He has to take a few beats to gather himself as his gaze travels over the room. It’s every inch what Patrick would’ve expected, from the collection of Apple products scattered over his desk to the trophies and medals pinned to his bookshelf. There’s an econ textbook on his dresser beside his overpriced watch and Armani cologne. Sports gear looks to be thrown in a pile by his closet almost artfully. It’s like his bedroom is a set for a fucking Abercrombie and Fitch ad. Patrick gags a little. Almost.

If that was all there was to Jonny in this room Patrick wouldn’t be surprised one iota. But it’s not.

There’s also framed photos of his family everywhere, pictures of him fishing with his brother, of their family dog, of his grandma knitting him a Christmas sweater. The floor is a mess with socks and crumpled paper, a thousand post-it notes of things he’s written to himself tacked up everywhere. He’s got anatomy posters on his walls and a signed Canadian hockey jersey framed over his bed, the forest green sheets are rumpled and soft to the touch when Patrick takes a seat on his bed. It’s a bit much to take in all at once especially with Jonny’s attention still on him as he removes his tie and unbuttons his shirt at the collar.

“I need a drink,” Patrick says, warm everywhere and restless.

Jonny pulls an unopened Absolut Vodka bottle from his dresser, unscrewing the cap, and handing it over.

“Here,” he says, and begins rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “I don’t have any clean cups.”

“Anything to chase it with?” Patrick asks, staring at the veins running along Jonny’s toned forearms, the skin golden and his hands large.

“You need a chaser?” Jonny says like it’s a dare.

“Oh fuck off,” he mumbles, shrugging out of his own jacket. He fists the bottle by the neck, using his free hand to wipe at his sweaty brow, averting his attention. He takes a breath, in and out, feels the way his stomach flutters. “Bottoms up!”

Jonny snorts as Patrick takes a long pull. It tastes horribly bitter and burns all the way down his throat. He takes another drink, and then two more, and then again one last time for good measure.

When he hands the bottle over to Jonny he licks his lips, catching a stray drop of vodka at the corner of his mouth and utterly staggered by the way Jonny’s staring at him, eyelids heavy and pupils blown wide.

The overhead light is turned off, just a small desk lamp left to softly illuminate the room, everything a soft yellow glow.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Patrick mutters, even if the idea of it all seems less crazy now with a glass of vodka in his system and Jonny’s bare forearms in view.

“Or you can’t believe you lost?” Jonny volleys back, taking a few swigs of his own.

“Do I have to choose?”

Patrick reaches for the bottle again, wiggling his fingers in a ‘gimme’ gesture. Jonny holds out the bottle for a moment, offering, but the instant Patrick actually touches it Jonny snatches it back, teasing, baiting.

“No,” Jonny says, low. “But you could come closer.” He tilts his chin up, gesturing Patrick to him, movements like dripping honey.

There’s this tension in the air, something that’s always been between them, but it’s different now. No less heavier, but still challenging, still stuck deep underneath his ribcage and tight. It’s sizzling through his skin now, making goosebumps pop up all across his overheated skin. He waits, just long enough to see Jonny shift on his feet before he stands - until they’re both standing. It’s a little victory, but he enjoys it, even more for the way Jonny meets him in the middle, stepping into Patrick’s space again and slotting a leg between both of his.

Jonny’s legs are long, full of thick corded muscle and his thigh hot to the touch. When it presses up against Patrick’s dick he can’t help the way a small gasp escapes his lips.

“This is so stupid,” he says, even as he pushes closer.

“Is it?” Jonny murmurs, rocking forward until they’re chest to chest, faces only a breath away.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I hate you,” Patrick says, huffing out a laugh at the absurdity of the question, of this entire night.

“Well,” Jonny, says, nose barely grazing the edge of Patrick’s jaw and the sensitive spot behind his ear. “I hate you more.”

Patrick shivers. “Impossible.”

“You wanna bet?” he chuckles.

He’s so goddamn annoying Patrick wants to shove him away and storm out. He wants it so bad he can taste it, the tips of his fingers practically tingling. So it makes absolutely zero sense that he fists his hands in Jonny’s dress shirt, yanks him close, and spins them both around to tumble back onto the bed.

“Just,” he groans. “Just shut up and let’s get this over with.”

Jonny stretches his arms wide, crosses them under the back of his head as he spreads his legs. “Pretend all you want, Kane, but I know.”

“Know what?” Patrick asks, settling between Jonny’s tree trunk thighs and unable to keep his eyes off the considerable bulge in Jonny’s pants.

“You’re hard too. You want this too.”

His voice is a deep timber and it slides over Patrick like a silky wave. Almost calming despite Jonny’s provocative words. He wishes he could deny them, flip the script on Jonny and show him he’s not as hot as he clearly believes he is. The truth is he can’t. His own dick is a hard line inside his boxer briefs, the need to rub himself over the bedding becoming a problem he won’t be able to avoid for very long. Especially not with the way Jonny’s stupidly perfect body is right within reach of taking.

“Stop talking,” Patrick snaps, fitting his hands over Jonny’s hips and moving them up. He can feel the buzzed flush at the tips of his ears spreading down his neck. Jonny’s own throat is covered in a glossy sheen of sweat and smooth enough to lick. Fuck.

Patrick frowns.

Jonny mimes zipping his lips, locking them, and throwing away the key. It’s disgustingly endearing and Patrick gives up any pretense right then, gives all the way in. 

He reaches for Jonny’s pants, opening them up and then peeling Jonny’s silver-gray boxer briefs over his hips and the plush curve of his ass, his cock slapping back against his stomach. There’s foreskin, which is new. Not much, just enough to cover part of the rosy-colored crown. Patrick's never been with an uncut guy before. That's not what causes him to pause. Jonny’s cock is long too and so so thick, fat enough it’s difficult for Patrick to get his fingers around. The tip is slippery wet and perfectly shaped. It’s an unfairly gorgeous dick, as far as dicks go. Patrick wonders if he can hate a guy for being so well endowed while still wanting to see exactly how far he can deep throat him. It’s not a question he thought he’d be asking himself on Homecoming night.

When he takes Jonny in hand he’s pleasantly surprised to see the way his hips arch up off the bed, just a tiny sign of need. Patrick runs his hand up and down the smooth length of him, dragging up the foreskin and pulling it down as he goes, then thumbs over the slick slit. Jonny hisses, moaning in the back of his throat and Patrick grins to himself evilly.

He could do this all night, he thinks, as he works Jonny up with the twist of his hand and the tongue that’s swiping out over his lips. Leaning down to lick a stripe up the length of him from root to tip he relishes the way Jonny keens, reaching out and then digging at the sheets instead. Patrick does this a few more times, just to see the way he silently begs for more.

All of it has his own dick leaking inside his pants, balls tight and snug. He presses into the mattress for relief as he mouths at the head, breathing over it hotly, but not taking it inside.

“C’mon!” Jonny growls, impatient.

Patrick hums wickedly and doesn’t move. “Ask nicely.”

“Fuck you,” he spits, propping himself up on his elbows.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Patrick sings, biting at his lip. He tries not to imagine another time, another deal, where it could happen, where Jonny could be the one pressing Patrick down into his mattress right now and filling him up.

Jonny whimpers a little, hand coming up like he wants to yank Patrick down on his cock, before falling to his side again. “Will you just...please?”

He says it almost sweetly, his expression shifting into something soft, earnest. It could all be a play to make Patrick do what he wants. It’s embarrassing how well it works.

Sucking Jonny down is overwhelming. He tastes salty and hot and he’s heavy on Patrick’s tongue. He can only take so much inside, working by half inches as he bobs up and down in a continuous rhythm. When he can feel Jonny at the back of his throat he’s still got one hand inelegantly stroking the base where two could fit. He can’t take much more, even with his truly enviable skills.

It doesn’t seem to matter anyway as the movements he’s making are enough to have Jonny arching off the bed and groaning deeply as he comes. There was a half-assed warning in the flapping of Jonny’s hand, but Patrick doesn’t let up, sucking him down until he’s jerking weakly. He's not really sure why he swallows, he certainly doesn't owe it to Jonny after all. That was never part of the bet. But it might be the way his own dick aches when that first splash of come hits his tongue, filthy and tangy, so clearly all of Jonny. Or it might be the way Jonny's eyes roll back in his head when he sees Patrick suck harder on the crown, instead of pulling back, shuddering all over and letting out a breathy punched out ‘fuck’. He’s not sure why and he’s not going to question it further. Instead, he eases back lazily, wiping at the edges of his mouth and watching Jonny stretch out across his bed, murmuring happily.

“You're welcome,” Patrick says, heart pounding and skin prickly.

“Oh yeah, thank you,” Jonny smiles, eyes closed. “That was great.”

“I know.”

“Mmm. Made me all sleepy.”

Patrick watches him settle back into his pillow, body slack, relaxed even with his shirt askew and his pants still unzipped. “Are...are you actually falling asleep?”

“I could.”

“Right now?”

“Why?” Jonny asks, breezily. “Did you want something?”

Was this guy for fucking real?

“Nah, man. I'm good. See ya later,” Patrick bites out, twisting to move off the bed. He doesn’t make it far.

“Shut up and c’mere,” Jonny laughs, looping his arms around Patrick's middle and pulling him back down. Then he kisses Patrick long and bruising, stealing all the air from his lungs and licking the taste of himself off of Patrick’s tongue. “Your breath smells like dick.”

“Your dick.”

“Mmm yeah, it's good,” Jonny says, and sucks on Patrick’s bottom lip for another few long beats.

“You're a weird one, Toews, but you're hot as fuck.” It shouldn’t be said, but Patrick can’t not say it. His buzz is really starting to kick in now.

“Thank you?” Jonny asks like he's unsure if Patrick's insulting him or not.

Patrick nods, dizzy drunk and skin tingling. “You’re welcome.” 

A large hand settles hot over his cloth covered dick, rubbing in circles that make Patrick whine with the need for skin on skin. Luckily Jonny doesn’t make him wait, flicking open his pants and shoving his hand inside until he can grasp Patrick good and tight. He’s a sticky, wet mess, precome slick all over his boxers. Jonny uses it to ease the way, grip firm and surprisingly deft. He leans close to bite at Patrick’s bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth again as Patrick shudders out his release. It’s better than it has any right to be.

When Jonny pulls his hand free he licks some of the come from his palm, lapping at it slowly, making a show. Patrick's so mesmerized he doesn't realize Jonny's wiped the rest of the jizz on his thigh until he feels it start to seep through the material.

“You're fucking rude,” he spits. Or tries to with the way he’s attempting to catch his breath.

“You liked it,” Jonny grins, still smug as ever.

“That second rate handjob? I've done better with a bottle of Jergens on my own, pal.”

Jonny flips over onto his front, throwing an arm over Patrick’s middle as he pushes his face half against his pillow, lips just inches from Patrick’s temple. “You know how I know you’re lying?”

“Mmm?” Patrick mumbles, limbs heavy and the room a little spinny. Maybe he needs a quick nap before he hikes it the fuck out of here. Just a quick catnap.

“Every time I touch you...you tremble,” Jonny whispers.

Patrick doesn’t shiver.

He doesn’t.

Because if he did that would be embarrassing and this night has already ruined him.

He’s wrecked and he can’t think about it.

Patrick lets his eyes flutter shut, let’s himself float into the hazy warmth of it all and doesn’t think, only murmurs, “You wish.” And then he’s blessedly asleep.

*

Patrick wakes the next morning to a buzzing in his pocket and a dull headache. Jonny’s knocked out beside him, breathing deep and pressed heavily along Patrick’s side. His face is soft in sleep, all of his edges rounded out, gentle. There’s no conceivable reason why Patrick should spend any time looking at Jonny or even be in Jonny’s bed. He shouldn't have landed himself here in the first place, and yet here he is, still, easing himself out of the enemy’s bed, and his room, and making the walk of shame home stained in disgrace.

It’s lucky Sharpy called him when he did, early enough that Patrick can escape the Sigma house without being detected. He’s not even sure what he’d say if he was caught or what they’d do to him, especially if Backes or Kesler were the ones to cross his path.

There’s other people out walking at this hour too, if only just a few. Patrick passes a couple of them on his way down the block. They look as unkempt as he feels, hair ruffled and clothes out of place. The sun is too cheerful bright the sky too blue for his dehydrated mind to process and he realizes he’s still got a come stain on the side of his pants, chalky and stiff to the touch. Awesome.

The Delta Chi house, when he walks through the lawn to the front door, looks a bit worse for the wear after last night. There are streamers and Solo cups strewn across the yard and trailing inside. Patrick kicks past some glittery confetti shit, pulling his phone from his pocket as it buzzes. It’s Sharpy again. His tenth text since last night and three missed calls. Yikes. Who’s about to get a lecture? Two thumbs for this guy.

Patrick considers trying to evade him for a few hours, maybe take a nap first. Unfortunately, he only makes it to the staircase before he’s caught.

“Where the fuck were you last night?” Sharpy says, face pinched and a mostly empty bag of trash in his hand. “You were supposed to help me with the pledges or did you forget?”

“Oh shit,” Patrick sighs. “Sorry, man. I...yeah. I totally forgot. Dayna dragged me to a Sigma Alpha party and well....”

Sharpy’s eyes go comically wide. “Sigma Alpha?!”

“Yep. And then she sorta bailed”

“The hell?” Sharpy says, stepping up to him.

The house has brothers scattered all over it in various levels of passed out, most of them too drunk to know better because if they did they’d be up safe in their rooms and not out in the open where anyone could mess with them. Shawzy’s plastered on the leather couch in front of the flat screen, some cartoon on that he’s probably seen twenty times before, Chaunette’s head pillowed on his lap. Phil’s smoking a cig by the window, even though he knows he’s likely to incur the wrath of their house mother for it. Buff is spread eagle on the floor, underneath the fancy shag rug that Soupy left them before he graduated last fall, a girl on each side of him. What a pimp. And on the green couch is G-Money, drooling from the corner of his mouth, and a dick in the shape of a J, for his first name, scrawled across his cheek.

Patrick’s going to have to wake him up in a minute. Hopefully, he doesn’t puke everywhere. 

“Yeah,” he shrugs in Sharpy’s direction. Then he sighs.

Sharpy chucks him on the shoulder. “Sorry, man. But wait. Why didn't you just come back here then? Did you...you got laid, didn't you? Aww Kaner, good job, buddy.”

His smile is so weirdly proud that Patrick has to shove him away with an eye roll. “Stop acting so surprised, shithead.”

“Was she hot?” Sharpy waggles his eyebrows.

“He was...very,” Patrick admits, even if he’s not sure why.

“Nice. Name?”

“Uhhh.”

The thing is Patrick could tell Sharpy, probably. That it was a Sigma, that it was Jonny. He’d catch no small amount of hell for it, but Sharpy wouldn’t actively judge him like the rest of the brothers would, at least not in any real way that would have consequences. The downside of telling Sharpy would come when he inevitably opened his fat mouth and told everyone Patrick’s business, probably by accident, but that would be moot once it slipped out.

So Patrick knows he can tell Sharpy, but he won’t. Instead, he shrugs, mind still too fuzzy sleep worn and foggy from the alcohol.

“Did you at least suit up?” Sharpy asks, like he’s Patrick’s father.

“Umm,” Patrick says, fidgeting under Sharpy’s scrutinizing stare. How's he supposed to tell Sharpy no, they had not, in fact, used a condom, because Patrick didn't want latex between his tongue and that gorgeous cock? But he’s pretty sure if anyone is squeaky clean on this campus it’s definitely Toews' lame ass.

Sharpy frowns and digs in his pocket, pulling out at least five foil packets. He shoves them into Patrick’s hand. “Hey! No glove no love, okay.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Won't happen again.”

They break off after that to begin cleaning, Patrick shuffles to the kitchen to grab a few black garbage bags and collects empty Solo cups and balled up napkins off the floor. Other brothers slowly join in, if a bit reluctantly, grumbly and moaning about headaches and begging to know where the Tylenol is located. Once the majority of the mess is under control Patrick leaves the rest of the pledges to it and escapes upstairs for a long needed nap. On his way he passes a framed picture of the unofficial house rules.

RULES TO NEVER BREAK (EVER!) (unless you’re shawzy and don’t give a fuck)

don’t sleep on the green couch. you’ll wake up with a dick drawn on your face.

never let a Sigma in the house

don’t leave your shoes by the door, they’ll be thrown out.

laundry days are on friday. wash your fucking clothes you, filthy animal!

the strawberry yogurt is kaner’s. don’t touch or he’ll glue your ass to the toilet seat. right, shawzy?

sharpy gets the TV every thursday from 7pm-9pm for The Bachelorette. no, you can’t watch your shitty Cardinals game. DON’T ASK.

I repeat, never let a Sigma Alpha in this, our home and refuge

if reggie is around feed reggie.

stop putting forks in the microwave, you morons.

david backes is satan. never look him directly in the eyes.

312-664-7440 Dominos Pizza - ask for Malynn NOT Bree for the 25% discount

DON’T ASK ABOUT THE GRASS

don’t give carbomb grey goose after midnight. or you’re cleaning the second story bathtub.

Seriously. Under pain of death DO NOT let a Sig into this house or you will forthwith be banished from the kingdom.

He taps his finger against the glass of the frame as he passes it by, a reminder to himself where his priorities lie.

In his room he face plants on his bed and dreams weird dreams of being kicked out of Delta Chi, then college, then his parents' house to live a lonely, shameful life on the streets of Chicago all because he let Jonathan Toews put his dick in his mouth. When he wakes, more clear-headed and less hungover he makes a vow to forget last night and never think of it again, like it never happened.

It’s for the better. It has to be.

[mmxficlets]

Prompt #16: Berserk (Status Effect)

So, I am playing Command Mission for the first time, and I got the berserk status effect on X, and he immediately turned and tried to shoot Spider, which was STRESSFUL. So obviously I had to write a little snippet about that moment LOL. This one's pretty angsty, but nothing too serious. I think once I get to Zero series, that's when the really angsty writing will come. Anyway, enjoy!! I put this one off waaaay too long.

Zero jumped at the cry from help from their comrades, ringing out as the chaos of battle settled and faded around them. 

The warbot spun around, his eyes widening in disbelief at what he saw.

X stood, his buster raised and pointed at Spider, his eyes crazed and his mouth open wide as he panted. His whole body trembled and shook, his fiery red scarf fluttering hopelessly in the wind behind him.

Massimo, Marino and Cinnamon stood off to the side, mouths agape and in varying stages of disbelief to outrage. They moved to grab the Maverick Hunter, but Zero was faster, jumping in front of X’s buster.

“X, whatever the hell you’re doing, you have to stop. Stop, X!” Zero shouted, placing his body in the android’s line of sight. Marino and Massimo rushed over, helping Spider to his feet and escorting him away from the two hunters.

“That’s...that’s Sigma, Zero....Sigma is h-here...he’s ri-right there...I-I....I have to shoot…” X’s voice shook as the buster held its charge, now pointed directly at Zero’s chest.

That’s when the warbot really looked into X’s face. His eyes were maroon, like a fog had descended over the verdant irises and left him in a haze of red. He wasn’t seeing anything at all, whatever hallucination that had caused him to go berserk capturing all of his attention.

Zero remembered now that some mechaniloids had the ability to distort and confuse their enemies perception of reality, causing them to act out in fear and anger to all of those around them, like a spooked animal.

The Red Ripper reached out, laying one hand gently on X’s buster and pushing against it to lower it.

“X, Sigma isn’t here. He’s gone, remember? We beat him...he’s long gone X.” Zero spoke softly, reaching with his other hand out to his lover, trying to bring him back to reality.

The Blue Bomber shook his head, his whole body stiff and unmoving. There was something playing out in that head of his, a memory, or a nightmare, Zero couldn’t say. But it was there, he could see it in the terror behind his eyes, in the way he gasped for air, like there was a fire burning X up from the inside, desperately trying to put it out.

Sigma had haunted the both of them since the First War, a shadow in their minds and a constant threat, always looming on the horizon of peace. He was a portent of war, destruction and death. X had had nightmares about the Reploid he had helped Dr. Cain build so lovingly all those decades ago. How horrible it must be to see the corruption and downfall of someone as close as a younger sibling.

X’s whole body shook, his eyes wide in panic as his breathing got quicker, his hand gripping his buster tighter than ever.

“No...no he’s here Zero...he’s...he-THERE!” It all happened so fast, Zero barely had time to think. 

X’s anguished cry made everyone around them jump, as the Azure Hunter yanked his buster away from Zero’s guiding hand and fired the charged shot. The plasma whizzed past Zero’s head, the heat registering on his cheek as the bolt melted the air around them, exploding in a flash of light and fire behind the warbot.

X fell backwards, his whole body out of balance from the sudden movements. The Light-bot didn’t even try to catch himself as the back of his head struck the rough ground around them, laying stunned for a moment as his eyes finally began to clear.

He groaned and sat up, propping himself up with his hand while his buster sizzled and hissed from the discharged plasma. 

There was confusion in X’s eyes as he looked up at Zero’s stunned face, their companion’s shocked ones, and his own smoking arm. Realization crawled across his face as everything clicked into place, his hand transforming back and grabbing his mouth in disgust.

Zero crouched, getting a reign in on his own fear and shock at the situation. 

“X…” He called out, reaching for his lover.

X recoiled from him, curling away from him as tears streamed down his face, his whole body shuddering as he came to terms with the fact that he had almost shot his lover.

It had been so long since that tragic showdown between the two, so so long since they had been forced to raise their weapons against one another. The conflict was a closely guarded secret, the only reploids to know being themselves, Sigma, and their closest and oldest friends from the Maverick Hunters. Not even Axl knew.

Zero tried again, reaching for his husband and speaking so tenderly to him. “X please, come here. It’s not your fault, I’m fine see? Please…” His hand faltered, gently falling against the ground as he settled into the dust and dirt, feeling miles away from his beloved.

Axl had returned at this point, and had promptly escorted the rest of their party away, knowing his two partners well enough to know there was something deeper happening here.

X’s muffled, quiet sobs rattled through his body, filling the now empty clearing with the melancholy song of heartbreak. And Zero didn’t know how to fix it. In the last few minutes, X’s entire world had crumbled in front of him, from the visions of ghosts to the very real near destruction of the only person left in the world who could understand him.

Zero bowed his head, unable, or unwilling, to approach his husband. They sat together, drowning in their own sorrows until X could finally speak again.

“I...I almost shot you…” His voice, broken with turmoil, whispered into the breeze, the words being carried across the now silent battlefield.

Zero looked up, his golden hair fluttering like a shining pennant, drifting across the dust. 

“You didn’t mean to X.” Zero’s own voice was just as quiet, like speaking too loudly would break the silence around them.

“I...saw him Zero. He was right there...oh god what if I shot any sooner…” X buried his face in his hands, body trembling as he attempted not to cry again.

Zero finally found the strength to move, scooting closer to his husband to wrap him in an embrace and pull him into his chest. Even with the armor on, he rubbed circles into X’s back, kissing the top of his head.

“I know X, but you didn’t shoot me, and Sigma is gone. You��re gonna be alright. We’re gonna be alright.” Zero murmured into X’s shiny blue helmet, adjusting his position so X would be fully against him.

X said nothing, stifling his sobs and letting himself be pulled against his husband. He buried his face into Zero’s neck, his arms wrapped tightly around his husband’s torso as both androids clung to each other like their lives depended on it.

The wind changed direction then, making Zero’s hair blow into the androids, trapping both of them in a golden cage, glittering in the setting sun. In a way, Zero thought, he was like a shield, giving X the shelter he needed at that moment.

Maybe it was time for both of them to retire. After all these long years, maybe it was finally time they got the break they so desperately deserved.

Later. He thought. When this mission and pointless Rebellion is over, then X and I will finally leave. 

[kz-i-co]

Sorority Secrets: Part IV

Summary: You were officially banished but you couldn't give up without a fight.

Pairing: Kim Jiwon (Bobby) / Reader

Genre: angst/fluff

Words: 2.7k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 || Part 5 ╫ m.list ╫ ikon masterlist

m.list  ╫ ikon masterlist

-

You paced back and fourth as anger was fuming. You crumbled the note tossing it away and made you way out to the corridor. You saw Haeryung's room lit up the dark hall and immediately went over to her door knocking with rage.

"Oh hello (Y/N)." She just smiled enjoying every second. "I see you're not taking it well. Don't worry you can still sleep here tonight but tomorrow-"

"This is bullshit and you know it." You cut her off. "You can't kick me out, you got nothing on me."

"Huh. Think again." She pulled out her phone with a picture of you and Bobby kissing only an hour ago. "I got my proof right here so don't you dare threaten me." She said proudly.

"This is a fake rule. It's not even in the handbook."

"You talking about this handbook?" She held up her official book. "Caught you stealing as well. Wow."

"It's a rule if you like it or not and there's nothing you can do about it." She continued.

"I'll just go to the Dean then." You spoke up.

"Go ahead." She smirked once again. "He knows about this rule so it's official.....What?....Were you going to get your theata boyfriend to get Dk to steal from his father. Good plan." You hated to admit it but she was way ahead of you. "The Dean knows of our little rivalry. Pff he's the one that even suggested the rule....so sorry you have to leave us so soon."

"I don't believe you."

"Then go ask him yourself. You have been nothing but trouble since you got here. Wait until your mother finds out, she'll be so disappointed that her own daughter-"

You couldn't take it anymore. You slapped her across the face causing her to pull your hair quickly as the fight officially broke out. The girls from downstairs were up quickly from the commotion and tried to break you both away from each other.

"What the fuck is going on?" Mimi raised her voice. Haeryung was looking at you with rage as her hair was a mess and her clothes all ruffled.

"She slapped me first." She was quick to defend herself. "She's taking her banishment harshly."

"You can't banish me for a made up rule that's not even in the official handbook. Even if it was this is against initiation. First warning, then fine, then the banishment. You just skipped to the end because you couldn't stand me since I've gotten here."

"I did give you a warning sweetheart."

"It has to be in writing."

"Everyone downstairs." Haeryung spoke since the tight hallway was closing in.

She had all the girls in an open circle, as you stood in the middle. "I didn't get the chance to explain everything yet so here it goes. Jennie was banished from our Kappa house this morning because we caught her with a theata, more then once. Next Miss (Y/N) here is also banished from our Kappa house, too caught with a theata several times. And not only that, snuck into this very house, now that's two rules breaks right there."

"I'm not a idiot (Y/N). I see everything that goes on around here. That's why I kept my eye on you very closely. You don't deserve to get a warning and you're sure as shit lucky you didn't get a Fine. But once I go to the Dean about this, you mine as well be banished from school property."

"Please I barely touched you." You fought back.

"I was gonna let you spend the night but I can't bare to see your face another second. You can come back for your stuff tomorrow as security stands watch."

"May I have a word before I go?" You said.

"Of course not." Haeryung folded her arms.

"My past sisters need to hear this." You began to take the floor as Haeryung watched from the side.

"Yes I may have started a fight with sister Haeryung and I'm very sorry. But she hasn't let me breath since I've gotten in this house. She knew who I was and knew who my mother was. Like she was afraid the mothers were gonna give me her title or something."

You laughed but got to the point. "But yes it's true I've been caught with a theata, I've actually met him at the first party. And yes he was your typical party theata who was annoying and obnoxious like Haeryung warned but then he was talking to me during school, still annoying but then he started holding my hand, carrying my books, comforting me when Haeryung constantly harassed me." You sighed. "He was just a boy, who cares if he is a theata or sigma or whatever. I fell for him and he's very sweet and kind and one stupid rule isn't gonna keep me away from him. The rule is made up because of Haeryung past experiences and it's not fair that we get to all suffer because of it. The theatas are not bad. They're just regular guys, some are assholes and some aren't."

"Nice speech (Y/N) but it's too late. Your banishment was already emailed to the Dean." Haeryung smiled.

"Haeryung hasn't been honest with everyone here." You smirked. "Haeryung fell in love with a theata too. You all know him from the day we moved in. Theata leader himself Seunghoon." The girls looked at Haeryung with shock. "You are obviously still in love with him unless this stupid rule wouldn't be so enforced."

She squinted at you. "I'm not in love with that moron."

"But you are Haeryung unless this rule would fade out. You have a grudge against him because he made one stupid mistake and still regrets it, you know why Haeryung? It's because he's still in love with you."

"Bobby told me the truth. You were the perfect couple almost your whole freshman year but the last night for the seniors got too carried away. The theatas back then were harsh on their brothers and always forced them to do stupid shit they didn't want to do......But anyway he got wasted and cheated on you with a fellow kappa. He begged for forgiveness but you just pushed him away and worse you got that Kappa in trouble and got her kicked out for something she didn't do. You are a liar and manipulator and it's not fair to have someone like you as our leader."

"Who cares. The theatas have proved they are no good and the Dean agrees. That's why we have this rule. Anyone who disagrees can leave to."

"I understand the rule but banishment is out of the question Haeryung and my mother would agree with me. She was a leader once too."

"Then go cry to her and leave our house." She yelled.

"Another thing before I go." Haeryung rolled her eyes. "I'll keep their identity a secret but there is another Kappa here who has been dating a theata far way longer then I have. Years actually. Surprised you haven't found them out Haeryung, since they are constantly on your side." You smirked. "One thing I like about the theatas is that they are honest. They don't have secrets like everyone in this damn house."

You finally left. It was dark outside but you still had enough street lights guiding your way. You didn't know where Jennie was but you had to find out. You were going to fight this thing.

....

"What are you doing here Kappa?" Seunghoon answered the door with a smirk.

"Your evil ex kicked me out." You said returning the look.

He shook his head with a chuckle and opened the door wider for you to enter. "She wasn't always like that you know."

"I'm sorry, are you sober? I'm not used to that."

"I have a mid term tomorrow." He raised his eyebrows. "Bobby's upstairs."

"By the way." You started. "I think she is still crazy about you unless this stupid rule wouldn't exist. She's still hurting."

He sighed looking down. "I've tried talking to her."

"Maybe you can-"

"It's not gonna work. She's changed."

"It's funny. As much as I hate her, I just want to see everyone happy."

He smiled and went back to the living room as you went upstairs.

"Hey It's pool girl." Another theata caught you in the hallway as you passed their open room. He leaned against the door only wearing a towel around his waist. He had blond hair with a labret piercing.

"Is that what you guys call me?" You asked curious looking passed him as you noticed his roommate come closer. You remembered him as Jinu, the senior that was dating Jeonghwa. You still couldn't believe he was a senior from just looking at him, his face was so young and pure.

"Or we just call you Kappa." Towel dude continued.

"Oh yeah I remember you at our party." Jinu said.

"I'm not a Kappa anymore. I got "banished"." You confirmed.

"How come?" Jinu asked.

"I'm sorta dating Bobby. Do you know what room is his? Last time I was here I was pretty drunk."

"It's that one over there." He leaned out the doorway and pointed to the correct door. He smile was very genuine.

"Thank you." You nodded and slowly began to take off.

"Wait...." Jinu closes the door behind him to continue talking to you.

"You really got kicked out for dating a theata? We knew that was a rule but we thought it bogus."

"I thought you would know that out of anyone." You turned back towards him.

"You know?" He looked worried.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone." You smiled. "I thought at first it would help me break this stupid rule but it's too late now."

"It's not too late. I'll help you if you want it, just let me know."

"Thank you Theata senior. That's kind of you." You bowed respectfully.

"Ugh, please don't call me that." He turned around back towards his room.

You continued back towards Bobby's room and knocked on the door. You just hoped he wasn't asleep since it was already past midnight.

"Hey what are you doing here?" Bobby answered as Hanbin leaned up in bed seeing you at the door.

"Well....." You sighed deeply. "I was banished from the Kappa nu house and I have nowhere to sleep tonight."

"They can't just kick you out in the middle of the night like that." Bobby said growing angry.

"I was allowed to just sleep the night at first but then I started a fight with Haeryung so yeah. Now I'm here."

"Jennie was banished too, have you seen her?" You continued looking at Hanbin.

"She was banished?" He said sitting up.

"Has she talked to you at all?" You asked.

"She said she was feeling sick and going home for a few days." He pulled out his phone and started texting.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do." You said and Bobby pulled you into his chest.

"We'll go to the Dean tomorrow and get this straightened out."

"Haeryung said he knows already and it's an official rule."

He signed. "We'll figure this out tomorrow. Let's just get some sleep."

You took your shoes off and laid down cuddling into his chest. By this point you rather just live here so you could do this every night.

"Hey." Hanbin walked back in the room after getting off his phone with Jennie. "She said there's no more dorms that's why she's home. Have you thought about the apartments down the road? They are mostly students anyway."

"I wouldn't be able to afford it, I would have to get a job."

"I'll just talk to the Dean, and hopefully get this all straightened out." You continued.

-

Your face scrunched as the sudden ringtone alerted you awake. You leaned over trying to grab the device but you felt the sudden pull from Bobby's sleep state behind you. You let the call go straight to voicemail as you turned around closer into his chest to try to wake him up. You kissed up his neck causing him to groan in his sleep. Once his eyes slowly drifted open you continued to deepen your kiss until they met up to his lips.

"You guys better not do what I think you're about to do." Hanbin groaned as he slowly rose from his bed.

You giggled as you lied back down. "No worries."

"I better hit the shower before the other guys wake up." Bobby groaned as he left your side leaving you with a cold empty bed.

You went back to pick up your phone seeing it was only 9:30 and saw your new notification for a voice mail from Haeryung. You took a deep sigh trying not to let her bother you and began to listen.

"Good morning (Y/N), I hope you had a good night's sleep from everything that happened last night. I do wish you could of acted more mature so we can deal with this in a clean manor but unfortunately my hands are tied from your aggressive behavior. I will only be able to have campus security here by noon so I do wish to ONLY see you then. We will have helping hands here for you as a gratitude on my behalf because I did wish to see you rise above the other pledges and see you one of us but I guess we can't always get what we want. I wish for the best in your future." And with that the voicemail ended.

She really continued to get under your skin with that positive optimistic attitude. She's fake and a manipulator. How were you going to beat someone like that? She had everyone believing her bullshit and it's been that way for years.

"Did you want to shower (Y/N)?" You looked at your boyfriend as his hair dripped with fresh water and he continued to use his towel to dry it as fast as possible.

"No thanks." You made a face of judgment.

"Oh I get it. You think having only two showers in a house full of guys is probably disgusting. But I promise you......it could be worse." You couldn't help but giggle at his attempt.

"I'll just use the locker rooms to shower, no biggie. I have to be at the kappa house by noon so I guess I'll see you later." You said kissing him goodbye.

....

You were on your way over to the hell house to finally get this over with. The only problem was where you suppose to go after this? There was no more dorms and you weren't in a position to get an apartment. Would begging to stay be ridiculous? Could you sink to that level?

You rolled your eyes as you saw actually campus security waiting by the front door. "Hi (Y/N). Right on time." Haeryung came out side with her stupid fake smile.

"Are they really necessary. I'm not dangerous."

"Must I bring up last night?"

"That was just all my emotions build up from everything that was happening and I do apologize. I promise I'm not a violent person." You bowed respectfully.

"Trying to kiss up to me in front of security? That's cute."

"I'm not." You looked at her with sincerity. "I thought about everything you said and I was stupid and careless. I should of listened."

"What? Did you break up with your theata already?"

"If I did would that make a difference?" You asked not hurting anyone.

"Of course it would but then you attacked me. I'm not dumb (Y/N). You've been lying to my face since you joined us. Can't have girls like you in this sorority."

"Don't you mean cult." You glares at you but then her eyes lit up going past you.

You turned around to see what made her mood shift and immediately felt chills. Your mother stood before you with her arms crossed and the look of disappointment. It was worse then seeing her angry but you knew this wasn't gonna end well. Kappa Nu was your mother's everything and you messed up.

"Mom I can explain." You began.

[fitzgeraldfm]

hello everyone!! i’m jasmine and i’ll be bringing wes fitzgerald (charles melton) and lizzy hart (romee strijd) to the dash!! feel free to like this and i’ll shoot you a message here (or on discord)

( charles melton, cis man, & he/him ) let me introduce WESLEY FITZGERALD, the 24 year old SENIOR at cyprus rhodes university. they are a WEALTHY student that is majoring in BUSINESS and are said to be RECKLESS, CONFIDENT, & CALLOUS. people usually associate them with BROKEN LUXURY CARS, SUNGLASSES THAT HIDE THE ROLLING OF HIS EYES, MIDNIGHT HOOKUPS, & WITTY COMEBACKS.

statistics

general

full name: wesley oliver fitzgerald

nicknames: wes

age: twenty-four

date of birth: november 1st, 1996

hometown: beverly hills, ca

sexuality: heterosexual

current residence: cyprus rhodes, california

languages spoken: english & korean

personality

zodiac: scorpio sun, aries moon, scorpio rising

alignment: chaotic neutral

mbti: esfp

appearance

hair color: dark-brown

eye color: dark-brown

height: 6′3

biography

the only son to supermodel, hana fitzgerald, and business tycoon, oliver fitzgerald, it was easy to say that wes grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth from childhood. private schools, nannies, and anything his heart deserved. well except for one thing.

wesley had always been somewhat of a dependent child. he wanted to be loved, not just by his parents, but by everyone. he had this obsessive need of having everyone’s attention. it was a shame that at his young age, most didn’t give him the time of day, especially his parents. they apologized of course, but wesley was too young to comprehend anything beyond his mother and father constantly leaving him behind.

he’d always been well liked by his peers, honor roll student, football team. people loved him, but the amount of friends he had and the amount of girls stuck to his arm felt insignificant compared to the disappointment he felt when he looked out into the stands during a game and his parents weren’t there. he hadn’t joined the football team or busted his ass studying so he could be well liked, he did it because he wanted his family to give him more than just the occasional glance.

the sadness he’d felt for so long began to morph into anger, which was exactly how the acting out started. it was all juvenile of course, but the little moments of his mom or dad picking him up from the police station or forced into a parent-teacher conference were the only ones where he felt he actually had parents. he’d expected them to yell at him, ground him, do anything. but instead, they pushed it under the rug. any charges against him always seemed to be dropped, no doubt due to the influence of his father. and all it did was make him angrier. so angry that he began to put his own life at risk. it was amazing how many tickets someone could rack up, how many times you could get your license suspended, how many cars you could crash. the bills were astounding, not that it changed anything. at some point it all became second nature to wes, as if he was punishing his parents for never being theres

wes’s parents gave more of a damn about their reputation than they ever would their only son, that much was obvious. you wouldn’t find a single negative article on him, his reckless behavior hidden from the public eye. people continued to think he was just another rich asshole, not to say that he wasn’t. there were so few people that wes actually gave a damn about. but even with the people he was close with, it always felt like he was holding back, afraid to speak of his own insecurities

there was still that anger within wes, his reckless behavior becoming a norm for him, but most days? he didn’t feel anything. he did whatever he wanted. drugs, drinking, all of it. he slept around, never caring who was hurt in the process. it was just another thing that had become second nature to him. he never thought about the consequences, mostly because he’d spent his entire life evading them whether he wanted to or not. he’d climbed up the social ranks of cyprus rhodes, wide receiver on the football team and president of a fraternity that he still wasn’t sure if he gave a damn about.

wanted connections

“wanna get arrested?” [m/f/nb]; someone who comes from a similar situation as his, these two always seem to be starting trouble just for the fun of it, without ever fearing about being caught

“never one without the other” [m/f/nb]; best friends. one of the few people wes genuinely cares about. they basically do everything together, kind of like a platonic soulmate

“definitely eat shit” [f/m/nb]; straight up enemies. these two cannot stand each other and it’s painfully obvious whenever either is in a room together. there’s no making up, and definitely far too much bad blood between them

“and they were roommates” [f/m/nb]; despite being the president of sigma, wes literally refuses to live in the house, honestly because he doesn’t have enough patience to deal with waking up to that every day, so he lives off campus in an apartment. give me someone that knows how much of a neat freak wes is, and how he’s most likely to have a girl in his room at least half of the nights in the week

“the sister i never had” [f/nb]; maybe they’re very similar in personality, or maybe wes just feels close to them for some odd reason, but these two have a very sibling like bond, protective over one another

“maybe one, or three times” [f/nb]; friends with benefits!! these two have a mutual understanding that when they say it’s just sex, that’s all it is.

“you look hot when you’re mad” [f/nb]; there’s no denying that wes is an asshole to majority of the people he meets, and his major fuckboy status is bound to piss ore than a few off. these two clash practically every time they see each other, but wes can’t help but enjoy pissing her off, shamelessly flirting and poking fun at her any chance he gets (give me that 10 things I had about you goodness!!)

“I bust the windows out your car” [f/nb]; wes isn’t exactly great at relationships. these two broke up on bad terms, probably because of something wes did. maybe he cheated, or ghosted, or broke up with her in an unfortunate way, but either way, they two most likely don’t have a chance at reconciliation anytime soon

‘you’re toxic, i’m slippin’ under” [f/nb]; give me a toxic ex or current girlfriend for wes. these two fuck with each other and are in a constant state of tug-a-war in an extremely unhealthy way, so much so that they aren’t even really sure if they like each other anymore. they’d break up, if only they weren’t both so proud and stubborn, unwilling to be the one to concede.

literally anything else!! friends, enemies, hookups, etc

[ultradiplr]

Stress Relief

Butler!SigmaxReader

Plot: You notice the head butler of the estate you’ve been invited to has had a rough night and offer to help him relieve his stress.

Tags: Age Difference. Size Difference. Master/servant dynamics. Oral. Fingering. Penetration. Reader is Gender Neutral but is referred to as Sir as an honorific because Idk, I didn’t feel like thinking too hard about it.

A/N: Prompt provided by the Sigma Server and voted on by my lovely followers on Twitter, head over there yourself to see art and vote in the next poll if you’d like! Twitter.

Xx

Company get togethers are always sort of awkward, but when its hosted at the founder’s estate it just adds a whole new layer of unpleasantness. Although you were technically nothing more than a file pusher at the lower levels of the company you won a lottery draw to join with the bosses and executives to said founder’s estate and you dreaded the idea the moment your name was announced.

You did not belong around those sorts of people, rich assholes that just had a knack for ordering people around or the types of people willing to kiss up enough to join them, and you felt completely isolated as you stood in the nicest thing you owned alone at the back of a large party room filled to the brim with fancy business types all wearing suits that probably costs more than your entire life savings.

You were sure no one would realize you left if you just walked out right now, no one except maybe your boss but they were off rubbing shoulders with their boss’s boss so maybe not, but you stayed anyway. One because free food was free food, and two because well… you hated to admit it, but the owner sure had some fine looking help.

Especially the head butler. An older man, insanely tall and broad, with sharp but still soft features and gorgeous grey-periwinkle eyes that dazzled as if filled with stars. It was embarrassing how quickly you became smitten from simply laying eyes on him as he greeted everyone as they came in through the door, it was more embarrassing how quickly filthy thoughts entered your brain when he held your hand in his gloved ones in a polite handshake.

You always had a thing for older or bigger men, and this guy was the complete package. God, you wanted to run your hands through his cute greying hair and hold onto his shoulders for dear life and kiss his pointed nose but alas, you did not have that sort of confidence. So you contented yourself with simply staying and taking your fill of him from afar for tonight.

Not very afar though, he was good at his job and came by to ask if things were alright quiet often, perhaps seeing you alone as a sign of a problem. You usually just answered him with a quick “I’m fine, thank you.” when he asked, and a simple “No, thank you.” when he offered you a glass of wine. You blushed hard every time he came around with something new and he spoke to you in his rich, sweet voice, and every time you made sure to thank him for his offers, especially as you noticed more and more people simply waving him off without so much as a glance.

You felt bad for him as the night slowly winded on and you noticed he started to look a little frustrated as he had to deal with increasingly rude guests. Disrespecting him, not answering him, and finally actually shouting at him, he took everything in stride but that last one really got to him, you could tell, as he apologized, turned on his heal, and walked out of the room. No one paid him any mind except the asshole who yelled at him who simply looked pleased at the abuse he inflicted before turning back to his group and chatting on like he’d done nothing wrong.

It boiled your blood but you weren’t in a position to stand up for the poor butler either, after all everyone here was technically your boss too. But you wanted to help the guy, he had been so thoughtful of you tonight, even if it was his job, so quickly you followed after him.

It took a bit to find him again, his stride so much bigger and faster than yours but when you did find him he was pacing around and looking as frustrated as ever. He didn’t seem to notice you, or any of the other help that shuffled past him quickly taking things to and from the party. He looked a bit disheveled and his hand combed through his hair as the other was gripping repeatedly into a fist. He was a lot more angry than you thought.

You stood a distance away from him, and coughed to get his attention, “Sir?” You said and he stopped in his angry pacing to look back at you, “I’m sorry for what happened back there, you didn’t deserve to get yelled at.” You said hesitantly.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes betraying his confusion even as his face stayed placidly angry. He blinked, sighed and composed himself as best he could, smoothing his hair back with one of his gloved hands.

“Thank you, I appreciate your concern.” He half smiled at you, the tire now coming out in his features. “But I advise you to return to the party, this area is restricted to staff only.” He said calmly, shifting easily back into his service voice.

You blushed and chuckled awkwardly looking around you realized you had no idea where you were, “Oh… um, alright.” Was that it? A simple thank you? Was he alright? You didn’t want to leave him stewing in negative emotion but at the same time you didn’t want to seem like you were pushing boundaries on this complete stranger.

“So it’s a left and then right, right?” You ask pointing behind you and he looked in that direction and back at you.

He sighed again and straightened himself out, “I’ll escort you back.” He said and you instantly felt bad, had you just interrupted what little break he wanted to take?

“No, it’s fine, thank you!” You say quickly, stepping back from him but he closes the distance between you instantly and takes your hand, wrapping your arm around his and leading you briskly back in the direction you came.

“No, no, I don’t want you getting lost, it wouldn’t be the first time a guest has and the onus is on me if you do anyhow.” He sounded a bit annoyed and it stung your heart, you didn’t want him to be angry with you, you just wanted to apologize and make him feel better.

“I’m serious about being sorry for what happened.” You say as you try to keep up with his gate, “You did a really good job tonight, you really didn’t deserve that yelling, I just wanted to know if you’re alright.” You spoke fast, mind slightly distracted with not tripping over your feet and falling flat on your face.

He stopped and you jolted a bit by the sudden lack of momentum, the party could be heard slightly muffled through the thick walls, perhaps only just right outside were it was being hosted. He looked down at you, his expression amused, tired, but amused.

“I’ve done this job for many, many years, that wasn’t anything I can’t handle on my own.” He says assuredly with a soft squeeze to your hand, though that doesn’t really make you any happier.

“At least take a break, please?” You ask up at him, for the first time in your life actually pouting, “You looked awfully stressed back there, I can show you a few ways to relax if you want.” You said with a touch to his chest.

He blinked at you as all expressions dropped from his face, and you looked at him confused for a moment before blushing hard with the realization about how that sounded. He seemed frozen, like he was unsure about what you said, and in truth you were unsure too.

“I-I know some breathing exercises.” You correct quickly, withdrawing your hand slightly. You saw his expression change slightly into.. Disappointment? Wait a second, he couldn’t have actually wanted…

“But there are other things too… if you want… I wouldn’t mind.” You added quickly after that, splaying your hand on his chest again, feeling his heartbeat under the thick layers of clothing.

You watched the cogs turn in his head and flush a little darker as his eyes quickly flick over you. He looks up at the entrance to the party and back at you and then he lets out a slightly shaky breath. Without a word he holds you a little tighter to him and leads you to another door in the hallway.

When he opens it he quickly ushers you inside before shutting the door and locking it behind him. You feel softness around you and are kind of freaked out before he turned on the light to reveal it’s just the coat room. You’re momentarily distracted from your handsome partner by the idea of being surrounded by so much money, but your attention is drawn back as he pulls you into him and lifts you so that he can latch onto your lips.

You moan into the kiss as he flexes his strength, holding you tightly against him with one hand firmly on your ass as the other hand threads it’s fingers in your hair. He’s frustrated and rough, devouring your moans as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and cling to him desperately.

Your make out session did not last long, or did it? It was hard to tell, time felt so fake as you felt his tongue explore your mouth, but soon enough he pulled away, chuckling at your already disheveled appearance and wiping away the little saliva that followed him.

“Did that please you sir?” He asked cheekily and you felt a weird sort of feeling roll through you at the title.

“Y-yes.” You squeaked out and he chuckled giving your ass a squeeze before letting you down.

“I believe you wanted to show me how to relax, sir?” He said, the honorific dripping with pointed lust, and you gulped.

“I.. um.. I think you’re too tall… standing.” You stutter out, hands resting on his thighs and seeing easily if you were to get down on your knees you wouldn’t actually be able to reach him.

“What would you like me to do, sir?” That word was making your head swim, even if it was a respectful title it sounded more like a pet name in his tone.

“Sit?” You say unsure and he lowers himself to the floor instantly, keeping his legs wide to allow you room.

“Is this alright?” He asks as you settle between his legs and start to run your hands along his thick legs.

You nod, “Perfect.” You say a little breathlessly, and he chuckles, watching with amusement as your small hands feel up his calves and thighs.

The fabric of his uniform felt expensive too, soft and smooth and very breathable. He was warm to the touch and so very muscular. You wondered just what this uniform was hiding, but at the same time the sight of him sitting with his legs spread before you while still wearing such an outfit was much too delicious.

You ran your hands up his thighs, feeling them quiver just the slightest as your small hands roamed over them, and slowly felt up to his already hardening bulge. He felt hot to the touch, even through his pants as you cupped him, moving the fabric over him as you gave a few light tugs at him. He moaned softly and bit his lip, his face red and his eyes dilated in lust. As you felt him up you leaned down and kissed him over his pants, earning a satisfied sigh as a white gloved hands settled on your head, petting it softly.

You unzipped him enough to free him and you gasped when you pulled him out. He chuckled darkly at your expression and you felt your face heat up even more.

“Is it to your liking, sir?” He said smugly and your face reddened even more.

You could only nod, wide eyes and open mouth as you held is beautifully thick and long cock in your hands. It was heavy and hot and just so perfect with a thick vein running along the bottom that you thumbed as you stroked him experimentally. His hand flexed on your head a little but he made no move to rush you, settling back more as he watched your hand pump him slowly, taking him all in with your eyes.

You locked eyes with him as you lowered your head and licked a long stripe from his base to his tip, smiling when it pulled a delicious groan from him that hit you straight in your loins. You liked his head, swirling your tongue around it and lightly sucking on it as you jacked him, delighted to feel his hand grip into your hair.

“Sir.” He whined as you took him deeper into your mouth.

You knew no matter how much you wanted to take all of him you simply did not have enough time or luxury to adjust to him so you compensated for the extra inches with your hand as you took him as far as you could, moaning around him as he twitched in your throat. He smoothed your hair out of your face with his extra hand and before you could do anything both hands gripped your hair and forced your head up and off of him before slamming you back down onto his shaft.

You let him, drooling around him and lazily looking up at him, tears falling from your face as your hands abandoned their stroking to simply grip onto his pants. He was rough and obviously trying to just chase his own release regardless of your comfort though you noted he didn’t force you down any further than your limit. He bucked his hips into your mouth and delighted in the awful sounds that came from him fucking brutally into your rawing throat.

“You’re a natural, sir.” He bit out, the sir adding a strange and arousing layer to the  degradation. He was mocking you and it was so fucking good.

He pulled your head off of him and pulled you to him, smiling at the way your eyes rolled and locked on him, unfocused and dilated to hell, gasping for air through your rubbed raw lips. He kissed you, tender in comparison for his rough treatment.

You straddled his hips, locking him between you as he continued your make out session from before, only this time with a lot more biting and mumbling as his hands quickly grabbed and pulled you out of your clothes, stripping you completely while he still sat fully clothed.

As he tossed your shirt deeper into the closet he pulled back to admire you, eyes taking your in as his soft gloves caressed all your sensitive areas lovingly.

“Mooi.” the word drifted out of his lips breathlessly and although you didn’t know what he said it made you blush all the more harder.

You wanted to cover up, feeling exposed under his eyes and the fact he was still clothed but he simply did not let you, lightly swatting your hands away every time you tried. His hands smoothed over your sides and down to your hips where they rested and guided you to grind onto him a little. You grabbed onto his shoulders and mewled as you felt his hard shaft under you.

He thrusts lightly up into you as he watched you glide along him, precum dripping along himself and helping you slide smoothly even more. You whimpered when he lifted you a little high and you felt his tip ever so slightly catch into you before gliding back over you. He kissed your shoulder and whispered into your ear,

“Is this what you want, sir?” He tilted his hips and you felt him push up just a little into you and you gasped loudly, gripping on his shoulders so tightly your knuckles went white.

“Y-yes.” You huff out as you feel him glide over you again.

He chuckled darkly and leaned you back onto the floor so that he loomed over you. He smiled down at you, looking awfully menacing and sexy, all done up and proper still save for his slightly crooked bow tie and ruffled hair. He braced himself with one arm beside your head and with his other hand he brought it up to his mouth and removed it in one smooth motion. He spit the glove away to the side to be lost with your own clothing and delicately began to caress you again, no barrier between you and his skin now.

You writhed a little under him as he felt you up, running his fingers over your neck and shoulders and down the middle of your chest and over your stomach, teasingly stopping just at your waistline and skipping straight to your thighs that he pet lightly.

“Please.” You sighed raising your hips as his hand traveled higher up your inner thigh, “Please.” you pant as his hand lightly ghosts over were you want him to touch, “Please.” you moan when he finally does.

He leans in to capture your lips as you pull him close when his fingers finally enter you, wasting no time in stretching you out. It was a little painful but you didn’t care as you slowly adjusted, moving your hips along with his fingering, loving how deeply they hit inside you. His chest rumbled with moans as fingered your tight entrance and you squeezed down on him, the need to shove his cock into you growing by the second.

When he felt you prepped enough he took his fingers from you and grabbed onto himself, stroking himself a few times as he lined up with you. He gave you a look, making sure you were ready and with a nod he began to push into you. His other hand had to clamp down on your mouth as you let out a long, strained and loud whine as you felt him stretch you. You couldn’t stop it, the stretch just too much. Not bad, not bad at all, but just.. So much. You went ridgid at just his tip and he had to coo you into relaxing with kisses and soft words.

As he slowly worked inch by inch into you, you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching, the mixture of the feeling of being so full and his sweet attention being a dangerous concoction, and before he could even get halfway in you jolted with a sudden orgasm. He stopped instantly and a desperate, muffled cry was pulled from his throat as he felt you squeeze around him.

“Are you alright?” He asked with a huff, touching your face and waiting for you to snap back to reality.

“Y-yes, fuck, keep going.” You asked leaning into his touch and moving your hips to encourage him, helping him slip into you even more.

He groans and continues to push forward, bottoming out with a full body shiver and holding your hips tightly with his hand to keep you from squirming, trying to calm himself down long enough to actually start moving. You meanwhile grabbed and scratched and pulled on whatever you could reach, pulling him closer to kiss his face and feel around under his suit jacket. You felt so hot and overwhelmed in the best way, stretched wider than you ever had and completely addicted to the feeling already.

You were sure you’d be ruined for any other man after this.

When he started to move you nearly came again, the long, agonizing drag out forcing you to feel every little detail of him. You mewled and muffled yourself in his shoulder, biting down on the fabric there as he snapped his hips into yours harshly. He set an agonizing pace, slow out and hard in, making you lose your mind as you were pushed quickly toward another peak.

“Fuck” He barked as he felt you cum again but this time he did not stop, continuing to thrust into you as you quivered around you, dragging it out.

His hips picked up as he began to slide into you easier and easier as you relaxed and adjusted to him and soon your whole body was wrapped around him in an attempt to hold onto him as he pounded relentlessly into you. He kept his hand firmly on your mouth as every thrust pushed a moan out of you and his head was bowed harshly into your neck, his breath hot and quick on your skin as he huffed with every brutal thrust.

You heard mumbling from him but you couldn’t tell if it was English or Dutch, mind lost in the feeling of his thick cock.

When he came he bit down hard on his arm he was using to brace himself as he emptied a thick load into you with a full body shiver, continuing to fuck into you until it finally became too much and he stopped, panting and whining quietly.

“Thank you.” He says softly, breathlessly, and it hits you how tired and relieved he sounded, how much more… lively his voice sounded like this.

“You’re very welcome.” You say so softly, nuzzling into him with a wide and tired smile, warmth radiating through you.

—–

After you had gotten redressed and presentable he helped you out and called a private driver to take you home, seeing that you had no reason to stay any longer.

“I do hope you enjoyed your short visit.” He said as helped you into the back of a very nice car.

“Yes, very much.” You say as you settle onto the nice leather seats.

Before he could shut the door you stopped him smiled, “If you ever need to relieve some stress again I’m always free.” You flirted.

He smiled, a beautiful genuine smile and nodded, “I’ll be sure to remember that on your next visit, sir.” He said with a wink and with that he closed the door.

Damn, guess you need to get a promotion asap.