#im so mad im a bit incoherent but man. shut the fuck up

[stressfulsloth]

I am getting so annoyed with the word wholesome at this point like I see it and immediately the rage blinders come down

[alolowrites]

Midnight Fantasies

Summary: Shinsou reminds you why you’ll always love him. 

Song Inspiration: “Repeat After Me” by The Weeknd

Author Note: *gasp* Did I actually post a new story and it’s NSFW?!? Crazy, I know. I’m honestly surprised it’s not Bakugou doing the honors LMAO. It’s my first attempt writing a NSFW fic, so I am nErVoUs ahsdksjd. I really like how it turned out; y’all can thank The Weeknd for this.

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. PLS. 

Warnings: Aged-Up Characters; Fem!Reader; Oral Sex (Female receiving); some basic, vanilla, sex tbh (baby steps y’all). Unprotected sex (whoops); Slight angst?? I’m sorry, I had to. Not sure if im missing something else....

Word Count: 1.6K+

3:16am

A tiny flame burns quietly on your bedside table, casting a glow on your whimpering face. You sink further into the silky pillows and close your eyes—his sinful touches are heavenly. They are the cure to the madness that was eating you alive the last few nights. But tonight, oh, tonight is different as strong hands roam along your body, treasuring each curve like a precious gift sent from above.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling on the soft covers that probably won’t survive once the morning sun rises. But you don’t care as you feel his lips explore every inch of your bare shoulder. He moves toward your lovely neck and nips it softly, making you whine. A deep chuckle tickles by your ear as he hovers over you.

His left knee wedges in between your legs and grazes the dangerously wet panties. You moan, your hand clinging on his sculpted back muscles like a koala. He then grinds himself down on you, and your fingers dig into his thick skin. Oh, how he enjoys riling you up like this. You roll your hips to satisfy the pleasure burning inside your core.

“Fuck, Hitoshi…”

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his hot breath blowing against your heated skin. Shinsou gives you a chaste kiss, whispering, “Just relax. Let me take care of you tonight.”

A shudder runs down your spine—you yearned for this.

Shinsou listens to your body very carefully. He lets all the desperate squirms, the excited jolts, the heavy pants guide him on this long, sensual journey. You arch your back as Shinsou moves down, his lips leaving behind a blazing trail of kisses.

Breathy moans fill the room as the hemline of your satin nightdress rises up, exposing your ass. One of Shinsou’s palms greedily gropes it, amazed at how soft and delectable it feels. You pant harder as the hand travels south, the pace so agonizingly slow that your body is on fire. He stops and grips the thin fabric of your panties. You gaze at him, heart pounding when lustful eyes stare back at you.

They are like dark storm clouds ready to ravage the world—or in this case, you. A devious smile graces his lips as the panties slide off your legs and are tossed away, never to be seen again. You yelp when he pulls you closer to him, his face disappearing in between your legs. The anticipation grows as you feel him leave ghostly kisses along your inner thighs, waiting for those deadly lips to—

“S-shit,” you cry quietly, eyes shutting for a moment.

Shinsou’s tongue gives a teasing flick on your clit. He grins and licks around the swollen area, peppering it with kisses as well. You squirm on the bed and release another shaky breath. Shinsou wastes no time sucking your wet cunt, his mouth savoring the sweet taste dripping out your quivering hole.

A broken gasp rips through the air when his thumb circles on your clit. It moves at a steady rhythm, and you ride along with it, panting heavily the quicker he goes. You don’t want it to stop—not when the pleasure is so damn addicting, making your toes curl. Shinsou then sucks on the sweet spot, hard, and you moan louder.

“Oh, god, yes,” you chant like a broken record. One hand grips his messy hair, and you shiver when he grunts. Your hand has a mind of its own, pushing his face deeper to keep that friction going. “Fuck, more.”

And Shinsou obliges, devouring your throbbing pussy like a starved man. You simply buck your hips against his mouth and dig your fingers on his scalp until it bleeds. Shinsou holds you in place, the filthy sounds of his tongue pushing you over the edge. You keep hanging until it’s all too much and cry out in pure ecstasy, the waves rippling down your body.

Shinsou finally comes up for air, his chin dripping with that sweet cum of yours. He wastes no precious time capturing your lips that are dying for his attention. You fully surrender to him without hesitation, letting the man’s tongue dance inside your mouth. The blended taste of your honeyed cum and his saliva—an intense, rich flavor of ripe raspberries—overwhelms all of your senses.

You pull back when Shinsou grinds himself against you once more. That’s when you feel his large cock bulging through his boxers, teasing you to no end. He shifts a little, and the bed groans. Through half-lidded eyes, you whimper at the sight of Shinsou pumping his hard rock shaft, a bit of pre-cum dripping from the head. It playfully brushes your wet folds, but you can’t wait any longer.

You just can’t.

“Please, Hitoshi,” you beg, not bothering to hide the desperation cracking in your voice. “Please, I—hngh.”

Shinsou squeezes your hips, almost encouraging you to say it. “Tell me.”

“I-I need you,” you quiver. “P-Please, I—”

Your mouth parts with a silent cry when Shinsou sinks his cock. He hisses a bit, feeling the spongy warm walls stretch around him. You mewl as he fills you up, slowly and with great care. The sensation is new yet oddly familiar and satisfies that intense hunger you had the past few nights. You shut your eyes and bite your lip—Shinsou feels amazing, the thick girth of his twitching inside your pussy.

Shinsou’s thumb caresses across your cheek, and you look at him. With a slight nod, Shinsou begins rocking you, the bed creaking with each move. His hips roll like the gentle ocean waves under a clear night sky. There’s no rush, no hurry; Shinsou wants to cherish every single second inside you, and he relishes your lovely moans filling the air.

You wrap one leg around his waist, and he holds onto it with a vice grip. Shinsou soon crashes his entire weight on you as his forearm rests near your face. He groans when your pussy clenches tightly on him.

“That’s right,” Shinsou grunts near your ear, giving you a firm thrust for good measure. “You don’t love him. Not when you’re thinking of me, kitten. Not when I’m fucking you.”

“M’fuck, Toshi!” You cling to him as Shinsou continues to rock you deeper and deeper, his pace pounding you into oblivion. “Oh god, yes…yes…”

He’s hitting you just right, over and over again, with no sign of stopping. You drown yourself in the sea of immense desire. Suddenly you’re captivated with everything Shinsou does to you. It’s his ragged breaths that scorch your skin like a raging wildfire. It’s his massive muscles that mercilessly crushes you into the mattress, trapping you there with no hope of escape. It’s his fingers—rough and enormous—that selfishly claim your skin, reminding you that you belong to him.

At least for tonight.  

You gaze into his eyes, raging with lust.

“Repeat after me,” Shinsou rasps in between each breath. “You don’t love him.”

“I...I don’t love him.”

“You love me.”

You nod, mouth trembling. “I love you, Hitoshi.”

Shinsou lets out a feral growl at your final words—words of affirmation that you both know to be true. They make him go wild, each of his thrusts more maddening than the last. You cry harder and dig into his tensed shoulders as Shinsou ravages you like no tomorrow. Yet, he holds onto his promise, and that is satisfying you tonight.

The pleasure builds rapidly throughout your body. You can feel it bubbling inside you, thrashing like waves during a stormy sea. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth opens wide, singing incoherent praises to Shinsou as he rides you through your orgasm. He holds you with all his strength when his own fervid release hits you seconds later.

Shinsou heaves loudly above you, sweat beads rolling down his forehead. His eyes never waver away from yours, admiring your flushed face. It’s beautiful, perfect even. You forgot how much Shinsou looks at you with such devotion that you break down crying.

“Hey,” he says, whispering your name. His thumb wipes a few tears from your cheek, and you flutter your gaze at him again. “It’s okay. You don’t have to cry.”

“I miss you, Hitoshi,” you croak, the tears raining down your face. “Fuck, I miss you so much.”

A faint smile barely reaches his eyes.

“I miss you, too,” he confesses, and you hear the regret flowing through his voice. Still, Shinsou fights through and swears: “But, I promise you will always be mine, okay? You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

“Okay,” you sniffle and gaze into his eyes.

You believe him with all your heart.

Shinsou reaches down and captures your lips once last time. The kiss holds a wistful longing for the old days of your enthralling relationship—the ups and downs, the highs and lows, the absolute blessings and worst mistakes imaginable, it all meshed perfectly together to create this messy mosaic called love. And Shinsou burns this into the depths of your soul where you feel it.

You absolutely feel it.

Shinsou buries his head into the crook of your neck, and you hold him, afraid to let him go. You wish to remain like this forever, sleeping peacefully in each other's arms. So you close your eyes and pray he won’t disappear.

But nothing stays forever. Shinsou’s familiar warmth and crushing weight slip through your grasp, becoming more like faded memories that float inside your head. You open your eyes and release a deep sigh—you’re alone again. All tired, sweaty, and wet, especially as you remove your fingers from your soaked pussy.

No other man could satisfy you; Shinsou made sure of that. He reminds you every single night, haunting your fantasies whether you’re getting off on your own or fucking with the new guy who wormed his way into your life. And you, as always, scream for Shinsou—discreetly or without shame.

Because you’ll always think of him. You’ll always fuck him. And you’ll always love him, repeating those words with your last dying breath.

Love is complicated, y’all. And yes, I couldn’t resist doing a little ~twist~ for the ending HA! 

Thanks for reading!! 

[organizationhimself]

echoes of the eye impressions

nonspecific and intentionally incoherent reactions but could still spoil stuff so tagged and cut

1) why is this so scary

2) literally nothing is happening what are the threats here WHY IS THIS SO SC

3) wait a minute how does this w--why does that do th--OW WHAT THE FUCK?  HELLO??  WHERE DID THAT EVEN COME FROM--WHAT IS HAPPENING

4) haha!  i now perfectly understand the entire situation.  i can see why past me was so scared of fucking noth--what is HAPPENING

5) i am a fucking genius (x100)

0) i am the dumbest human alive (also x100)

7) i expected exactly 0% of this, and that is exactly what i expected

8) how?  do they keep improving the time loop mechanics??  HOW

9) -mad cackling as i learn that all along i had the gift of prophecy from apollo himself-

10) mmmmmdont like that.

11) ok so yeah, besides That Spot everything is fine, the spoops are basically all in my head, phew.  this place is starting to make so much logical sense, like i instinctively know where to find the next--WHAT THE FFFFFFRUDE AS FUCK what genre is this?  is this horror?  this is a horror game now.

12) why...do i even have that option?  who would do this?  im not going to do that i’ll die in real life

13) this dlc is like a whole game??  where does it end.  i mean, i guess soon, since i’m running out of places to explor--wait how are there even more places to explore?

14) ok.  yes.  of course that’s what i have to do.  thanks i hate it

15) you know what?  i’ve had a flashlight attached to me this whole goddamn time.  wild

16) ...oh!  i was expecting something horrifying to happen here!  lol and here i thought OH YOU MOTHERFUCKERS

17) OH YOU MOTHERFUCKERS

18) i might just watch an LP or something, you know, like, how worth it is this if and when i die of a heart attack

19) fuck you shut the fuck up i’m not scared of this bayou billy fever dream indie horror game compilation from 2004 disney pirates of the caribbean ride man door hand hook kill bill second life duolingo owl microsoft godforsaken powerpoint BULLSHIT, bring it on

20) ok, this isn’t so bad actually!  i just have to keep a low profile, so--what in the jiminy christmas did i just do wHERE AM I

21) HAHA, YES, YOU ARE TEACHING ME THE THING!!  THE THING I ALREADY KNEW!!  BECAUSE I AM SMART i love you game

22) how is there still more game??  i think this is going to take me as long as my original playthrough, i can think of like 20 things i still have to figure out

23) game i don’t want to

24) GAME, NO, I DON’T WANT TO

25) fuck.

26) SIR PLEASE I CAN ASSURE YOU THIS IS NOT CULTURALLY APPROPRIATIVE SIR WAIT I NEED THAT TO LIVE

27) o-ok!  this isn’t so bad!  i just have to wait until...oh.  what if i wait until...

28) it is truly unreal how good these people are at telling stories and packing totally nonlinear content into a semi-linear progression that relies primarily on your own observations and a bit of luck, while ALSO making every single aspect of the world totally accessible at all times with just enough confusion to keep you from seeing the entire beautiful puzzle of it all at once

69) cannot BELIEVE how dumb i am.

30) i have this sneaking suspicion the devs saw a lot of creepy potential in one of the prior core mechanics, good thing they only used it on me the one ti--OH IT’S BACK.  good.  love that

31) so hey, concept--what if this time, just what if, it’s not in the scary place?  what if this time it’s actually somewhere over here in the nice perfectly well lit godfuckingdammit i know it’s in the scary place why am i wasting my time

32) ok.  almost there.  almost got it all figured, wait where does this go?  doesn’t that just dead end?  sure does, haha how would you even come through there in the firs--wait i know how.

33) and i see how the game’s gonna make me how.

34) oh no.  (x99,999)

[turtle-steverogers]

Race vs the hot RA

Or the couple times race pined after the hot RA and the time the hot RA pined back

Hi! im back at school after thanksgiving break, so i decided to write some college fluff.  like for real guys.  its j us t fluff

enjoy!

ship: ralbert

warnings: lots of fucking smiling ;)

word count: something like 3k?

editing: nein

-

1.

“This is BULLSHIT.”

Race takes out an earbud and stares, mildly alarmed, at the bathroom door of their suite.  Abruptly, the shower shuts off, despite having been on for all of thirty seconds and a moment later, Spot emerges with a towel wrapped around his waist, shivering hard enough to rival a chihuahua left out in front of a grocery store in the rain.  He looks angry, scowling hard enough to bare his teeth and eyes narrowed in a way that would probably be murderous if he didn’t also look entirely pathetic.  

Race quirks an amused eyebrow, “Everything okay?”

“No,” Spot growls, “there’s no fucking hot water.”

Race frowns, “Like, none?”

“Yes, Race,” Now Race can see the goosebumps that line Spot’s arms and notes with faint concern that his lips look a little blue, “None.  Like, it’s fucking Antarctica in that fucking shower.  I feel like Steve Rogers after he crashed that fucking plane into the Arctic.”

“Shit, that’s not good.”

Spot scoffs, giving him a ‘no shit’ look and crosses to his drawer to pull out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

“Maybe too many people are using the showers?” Race suggests, “and like, maybe the hot water got all used up.  That happens sometimes at home.”

“Don’t think it works like that,” Spot says, padding back towards the bathroom, “M’pretty sure this place operates more like a hotel, so lack of hot water shouldn’t be an issue.  Can you go let the RA know something’s wrong with the plumbing?”

Race’s stomach drops, face coloring a bit at the thought of talking to Albert, their engineering SLO’s attractive resident’s assistant.  Like Race and Spot, he’s a junior, but this was Race’s first year living in the engineering housing, so he hadn’t seen him around before.  Which was weird considering they should have at least had a freshman seminar together or something of the sort. 

But nope.  On upperclassmen move in day, Race was completely blindsided by the pretty redhead coming around to the dorms, introducing himself with a disarmingly charming smile and an overly peppy, “If you ever need anything, I’m in 311b!”

Which was unfair, really, because naturally, Race had to see Albert fairly often at various floor events and as smooth as he’d like to believe he is, Albert made him basically incoherent.

And Spot knows that.

So, fuck Spot.

“Can’t you go tell him?” Race calls, trying not to sound pathetic but missing that mark by miles.

“No!” Spot shouts back, still sounding irritated, “I got class soon, dude, stop being a pussy and go!”

Race groans, steeling himself for a moment before pushing himself up from his desk and crossing towards the door, stopping at the bathroom to yell a quick, “I hate you!” at Spot before exiting and ambling down the hall towards Albert’s single.  The sign outside Albert’s door says that he’s on duty, so he knocks twice and bounces on his toes while he waits, stomach swooping when he hears a, “Just a sec!” from inside the room.

A second later, Albert opens the door, looking relaxed in a pair of running shorts and long sleeved shirt, feet tucked into a fluffy pair of moccasins.  The outfit is stupid and entirely adorable and Race has to forcably log his brain back online.  By the time he’s gotten a grip on himself, he realizes that Albert was saying something and is now looking at him with a mildly concerned and expectant smile on his face.

“Shit, sorry,” Race stammers, “What?”

The easy smile doesn’t drop, but an almost knowing glint flashes through Albert’s eyes, “I just asked what’s up.  Everything okay?”

“Oh,” Race feels himself blush, “Yeah, no, the hot water’s just fucked in our bathroom.  Thought I should let you know.”

“Ah, fuck,” Even disgruntled, Albert looks easy-going.  It’s unfair really.  For someone majoring in astrophysics, Albert always look entirely too relaxed, “Yeah, Mush came to me earlier about that.  I called in a ‘fix-it’ and they said someone should be coming to look at it around 5 o’clock.  Sorry, though.  I know cold showers are fucking awful.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Race says, “Spot was the one who got the brunt of it, not me.”

“Bet he was thrilled,” Albert says, “Kid’s a ray of sunshine.”

Albert even manages to make biting sarcasm sound entirely welcome.  Race isn’t convinced he doesn’t have super powers or something.

“Yeah, he was super chill about it,” Race plays along, “Kindly asked me to let you know and everything.”

“Mhm, I’m sure.”

There’s a small lapse of silence and Race starts to feel the nerves in his stomach come back, suddenly overwhelmed again by Albert’s alluring nature.  He’s about to turn and leave when Albert opens his door wider.

“You wanna come in for a bit?” He asks, “Was just making some ramen if you’re interested.”

“Oh,” Race’s heart soars for a second before dropping again, “Fuck, I’d love to, but I can’t,” Albert’s face falls a fraction and Race tries not to read too deep into that, “I have to finish studying for that astro 212 exam.”

Albert lights up again, “Oh! I gotta study for that, too.  We can study together?  If you want, I mean.  Like, you totally don’t have to if you, like, study better alone or something, I just thought it might be fun to-”

“Albert,” Race cuts him off, feeling oddly elated to see Albert flustered for once, “No, that’s perfect.  I’d love to eat ramen and study with you, just give me a minute to go grab my notes.”

“Sweet!” Albert says, smiling again, “I’ll keep my door open, so just come on in whenever!”

Race gives him a thumbs up and tries not to run back to his room.  Once he’s inside, it’s a mad dash to grab his things, cursing as he drops his graphing calculator twice.  He doesn’t even notice Spot on the floor, tying his shoes, until he laughs.

“Got a hot study date?” He quips.

“No,” Race says, “Shut up.  RAs aren’t technically allowed to date residents.”

Spot holds up his hands in the universal sign of surrender, “Rules can be bent.”

Race rolls his eyes, rushing back out of the room.

2.

Race fucking hates calculus.  Well, actually, that’s a lie.  He fucking loves calculus.  Numbers have always made sense to him, theorems and equations melding into one beautiful web of logic that always pulled him into a comfortable rhythm.  But right now, surface integrals were fucking him in the ass.  

Which is why he’s holed up in the library on a Sunday morning, staving off a wicked hangover and trying not to vomit as he stares dejectedly at his textbook, praying that the words on the page will magically make sense.  Sighing probably too dramatically, he pulls his notebook towards himself and copies down another problem, working through it at a snail’s pace before checking the answer in the back of the book…

...And it’s wrong.  Again.  Fuck.

He groans, dropping his head down and thumping it a few times against the table.  It makes his head hurt worse, so he stops, inwardly reviewing all the ways he’s a fucking dumbass who shouldn’t be in college, because college is hard.  

And fuck multivariable calculus.

Just kidding, sorry, Race thinks, I love you, multivar.  

“Doing okay?” 

Race looks up too fast, groaning again at the movement.  Albert’s hovering across the table from him, backpack slung on his back and iced coffee in hand, an amused smirk resting on his face.  He looks entirely too awake for a 10 am on a Sunday, but then again he wasn’t drinking last night.  

“Depends,” Race answers, apparently too hungover to be too affected by Albert’s presence, “Are surface integrals really worth my sweat and tears?”

“For our major, yes,” Albert says, “Mind if I sit?”

Race waves him off, dropping his head back onto the table, “Go ahead.  What’re you doing up so early?”

“Same as you it seems,” Race can hear him taking out his books, “Guess we all got a little behind on calc homework.”

“Guess so,” Race forces himself to sit back up, “I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?”

“Any of it,” Race feels his stress start to peak, “I haven’t gotten a single fucking problem right and I’ve been here since fucking 8 and really, I don’t know why I did that to myself, ‘cause I was up ‘til god knows when last night dri-” He cuts off, eyeing Albert warily.  

Albert shakes his head, “It’s okay, call me a bad RA, but as long as you all are being safe with it and there are no complaints, do what you want.”

Race nods, “Well, then, yeah.  So, I was up ‘til god knows when and now I’m hungover, but I gotta spend more time on this fucking class so I don’t fail this unit, because I’ve never failed a unit of math before and I don’t wanna start now, because then I’ll fail everything and fail out of college and-”

“Whoa,” Albert reaches across the table and places a hand on Race’s forearm, “Slow down, dude, breathe,” he waits for Race to take a deep breath, “It’s going to be alright, man.  Everyone’s got a bad unit, doesn’t mean you’re gonna fail it all.  Just gotta make a game plan.  I’m decent at this stuff if you want some help? I can’t say I’m as good as a TA or something might be, but I can help you get this assignment done.”

Race takes another deep breath, trying not to focus on Albert’s lingering grip on his arm.  Albert seems to come back to himself though, because he clears his throat, coloring a little as he squeezes Race’s arm and lets go.

“Sorry,” Race says sheepishly, “Didn’t mean to lose it there.”

“Happens to the best of us.”

And there’s Albert again, putting Race at ease with the tone of his voice alone.  Fucking magic, Race swears.

Maybe it’s an RA thing.  They all seem to have that scarily open demeanor.  Race could never.

“You don’t gotta help me, man,” Race says, “I’d feel bad making you-”

“Don’t,” Albert says, smiling.  Jeez, does he ever stop smiling? “You’re not making me do anything, I offered.  Plus, I gotta get this shit done, too.  We’d really just be doing it together.  It’s better practice to go in depth anyway.”

A swell of admiration grips Race and he has to look back down at his notebook to keep from doing something stupid like kiss Albert or something.  

“C’mon,” Albert prompts lightly, scooching so he’s next to Race instead of across from him and knocking their knees together.  Race tries not to lean into the touch, “What’s the first problem? 34?”

They work through the math at a steady pace, and with Albert’s instruction (which lacks a certain condescending air that Spot always gets when he tries to help Race out), Race starts to understand the content better.  He’ll still need to go to office hours, probably, but for the moment, he feels less panicked.  

By the time they’re finished, their bodies are pressed together from shoulder to thigh, both of them hunched over their work only inches apart.  Race tries not to stare, but he can’t help but notice the way Albert bites his lip and narrows his eyes when he’s focused.  Even with his guard down, he’s magnetic- effortlessly charming.  He must feel Race looking, because he glances up from where he’s completing the final problem.  They’re very close- too close, really and Race can see him flick his gaze down to his lips for a second before locking on his eyes.  In his peripheral, Race can see his ears color.  He’s a blusher, Race has come to realize.  It’s kind of precious.

“Thanks,” Race says, unable to stand the growing tension.  

Albert blinks a couple times, eyes clearing, “Yeah, no prob.”

“Like, really, thanks.  I get it more now and I’m infinitely less stressed.”

Albert grins, “I’m really glad.”

It’s quiet for another second, then Race shifts, glancing at his watch and realizing he’s done with homework and it’s not even 1:00 pm yet.

“Shit, what time is it,” Albert asks, leaning in again to look at Race’s watch, “Fuck, I have duty in a half hour, I gotta go.”

Race tries not to feel disappointed at the prospect of Albert leaving, “Yeah, I might try to go back to sleep to be honest.”

Albert laughs, “Good plan, drink water.”

“Will do.”

They pack up in silence and walk out of the library, pausing again when they get back to their hall.  

“Obviously fuck math, but I had fun hanging out with you,” Albert says.

Race feels his heartbeat pick up, “I had fun too.”

There’s another pause, this time a little more loaded, then Albert claps him on the shoulder, “Catch those Zs, bro, I’ll see you around.”

“See you.” Race says, waving as Albert begins to head down the hall.

“Don’t forget to eat!”

“I won’t.”

Albert turns around, fixing him with a playfully serious glare, “Promise me, Higgins.  Can’t have any residents sick if I have something to do with it.”

Race laughs, “I promise.”

“Good,” Albert winks and Race feels himself blush down to his chest.

3.

“Albert?”

The situation feels oddly flipped when Race walks into Panera to find Albert slumped at a table, head in his hands and knee bouncing rapidly under the table.  It’s a Tuesday afternoon and Race figured he’d grab his weekly cup of broccoli cheddar soup before english.

Albert lifts his head from his hands and Race feels his concern grow when he notices the red that rims his eyes.  He’s only ever seen Albert cool and collected, but he supposes even freakishly bubbly people have bad days, too.

“Hey, Race,” Albert tries to smile at him, but it falls short, “What’s up? You okay?”

“I’m good,” Race says, “Just grabbing a bite.  What about you?  Are you okay?”

Albert deflates a little, dropping his eyes down to his laptop, “I’m alright.”

“You sure?” Race ventures.  Fuck it, he thinks and sits down, “You’re looking a little stressed.  Is something up?”

He sincerely hopes he isn’t pushing boundaries here, but Albert looks like he needs a friend right now.  Or maybe a shot of really strong tequila.  Or both.

Albert shrugs, letting out a breath.  It sounds shaky and shallow.  He fixes Race with a self-deprecating smile.

“Shouldn’t this be the other way around?”

“Hey, man, just because you’re an RA doesn’t mean you can’t ask for help or some bullshit.  I’m not gonna make you talk to me or anything, that would be shitty, but I’m here for you and so’s everyone else on the floor.  If something’s bothering you, then it’s valid and you deserve support.”

Albert has such a starkly vulnerable look in his eyes that Race almost has to look away.  The corners of his lips are turned down and his eyes are wide and almost pleading and he looks so goddamn defeated and beautiful at the same time and Race really wants to hug him.

Albert’s jaw shifts and he turns his gaze down towards his hands.  His voice cracks a bit when he says, “I’m technically here on a hockey scholarship, right?” Race nods and Albert continues, “And our team is losing national ranking, ‘cause our new coach fucking sucks, so I might lose aspects of that scholarship and my parents can’t pay for my tuition on their own and-” he stops, shaking his head, “I’m scared, I think.  I don’t wanna have to drop out or something.”

Race takes a moment to mull over a good response and reaches across the table, hoping he’s been reading their interactions correctly as he places a hand over Albert’s.  To his relief (and delight) Albert flips his hand so their fingers are laced together.  

Race squeezes it encouragingly, “I can’t promise you that everything will be alright and I can’t make you false reassurances, but I bet if you talked to the financial aid office, they could help you figure out a plan?  But throughout all of this, I’m going to be here for you, alright?  Anything you need, just let me know.  If that’s a place to talk shit out, I gotchu, but I’m also here if you just need a friend.  I’m here for you, Al.”

Albert’s looking at him again, that same vulnerable look on his face, but something else is there a well.  Something softer underlying the worry lines on his face.

“Next semester I’m not going to be an RA anymore.” He blurts.

Race blinks, “Alright?”

Albert huffs out a laugh, “Sorry, I mean like,” he shakes himself, starting over, “I like you, Race.”

Race’s stomach jolts, “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” Albert says slowly.  They’re hands are still linked together and Race can feel Albert’s hand sweating.  Or maybe that’s his.  Fuck, they both seem keyed up.

“Fuck, I mean, Albert, I like you too.  Have since the beginning of the semester,” Race knows he’s talking too fast, but the smile on Albert’s face tells him it doesn’t matter.

“Yeah?” And Albert looks so damn appeased that Race laughs.

“Yeah.”

“So, if I’m not an RA next semester, then we could…”

“You tryna ask me out, Dasilva?” Race asks, a teasing lilt to his tone.

“Eventually, yes I am,” Albert says.

On a whim, Race lifts Albert’s hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles.  

“After Winter break, I’m taking you to that thai place in town.”

Albert’s smile takes on a genuinity that Race hasn’t seen before, “I’d like that.”

A month later...

“Feels good to actually be able to, like, do this shit publicly.”

Race leans in, pressing a kiss to Albert’s chin.  They’re in the library, trying to get ahead of their physics homework before it picks up too much.  Technically, they’d gotten together after admitting to liking each other last semester, but they weren’t allowed to have a relationship until Albert was out of his RA position.

“Yeah, that was like some star crossed lovers bullshit,” Albert laughs, “Hiding you in my dorm room and stealing kisses in dark hallways.”

“How romantic,” Race teases.

“I know.”

They kiss for real, both leaning into it.  Race feels Albert grip his arm right above his elbow, rubbing his thumb in circles around his bicep.  In turn, he brushes Albert’s hair behind his ears, tilting his jaw to deepen the kiss.

They pull apart and lean their foreheads together, smiling.

“I’m thinking about becoming an RA next semester,” Race murmurs.

Albert pulls back, looking alarmed until he sees the smirk on Race’s face, “you ass, I actually believed you!”

“Pfft, I wouldn’t do that when we just got this,” Race says, pulling Albert back in and kissing him again, “I like you too much.”

Albert smiles, giddy and exultant, “I like you, too, I think.”

“You think?”

“I know, I think.”

Race swats him, “Be serious and love me.”

They both freeze, the weight of the words they have yet to actually say suddenly hanging in the air.

Albert sobers up, taking Race’s hand, “I do love you.  A lot, actually.”

And really, that’s unfair, because sometimes Race still gets so goddamn enamored by Albert and he can’t really believe he actually likes him back and he can feel his face flushing and oh god, he’s not going to revert back to incoherence is he? Oh god-

“Don’t have an aneurysm,” Albert says, kissing his nose, “I love you.  That’s all.”

When Race smiles, it feels too big for his face, “I love you, too.”

END

-

thanks for reading, chiefs

yell at me to start writing again cuz i really been slacking

hmu to be added to my tag

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