#my mood leaving the practice rooms at 3am

[lactose-intolerant-piano]

The way I can comfortably sight read requiem reductions and to some level Alban berg but failed to read a RCM prep A piece

[xcaptain-winterx]

Oooh please i’d love a one shot or a drabble of his inner monologue!

Butterflies

dad!Lloyd Hansen x reader

summary: Lloyd starts to realize that the feeling he is feeling towards Sunshine isn’t hatred.

warnings: fluff, realization of feelings, denial, slight angst

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.. This is when they both were in Harvard, so way before having LJ

Main Masterlist Daddy Sociopath Masterlist

You curse as the canvas almost slips from your fingers. The canvas isn’t that heavy and big, but you also have to carry your bag and the books that didn’t fit in there anymore.

Most of the Students are already done for today or are learning in the library, so the hallway isn’t that crowded. You still have to hurry though because it’s going to rain and getting your canvas wet isn’t something that you would want. Normally you are allowed to leave your projects in a room, but apparently not this time.

You walk out the door and already see how dark clouds start to cover the blue sky. You start to walk the shortest way to your dorm. It’s difficult though, to hurry while carrying your canvas and the rest.

The sky is now completely covered by dark clouds. It’s going to start raining any second now. You are so fucked.

“He cut his ear off”, a voice from behind suddenly says, making you jump and letting the canvas slip out of your fingers. Just before the canvas hits the floor, a hand catches it. “Did I scare you?” the voice says mockingly.

You turn around and see the boy from the party. Instead of a brown coat and scarf, he’s wearing a tight polo shirt and dark jeans. You can see some sweat on his forehead. He probably came from football practice and judging by the smirk and somehow happy mood, practice was good.

“Yes, you scared me”

“Good”, he says with a cocky smirk.

A smile spreads on your face as you realize what he first said. “You did some research on Van Gogh”

His smirk disappears. “Well, I uhm just wanted to know what shit you were talking about”. You don’t have to know that Lloyd actually went to the library at 3am because he wanted to know who was that man that you were so fascinated by. It took him quite a while because he forgot the name of the artist. Apparently Vincent ven Google doesn’t exist.

You nod smirking “mhm”.

He groans, “don’t get cocky. That’s my job, Sunshine”.

The smirk on your face disappears, instead the smile comes back. “Thank you for catching my Canvas”, you say. Lloyd pulls it away as you reach for it. “Uhm, can I have it back?”.

“No”

“What?” you say confused, reaching for it again only for him to hold it above his head, making you unable to reach it.

“Why should I give it back?” he says.

“It’s my Canvas”

“Is it?”

You take a deep breath. “Yes, it is”.

Lloyd looks unimpressed. “Hmm. I don’t see you holding it” he leans closer. “So it’s mine”.

“Give me it” you jump up trying to grab it, the Books in your other Hand Male it Hard though.

“I don’t think so”

“Please”, you say, giving him a slight glare. Lloyd just laughs at your glare. It’s not scary, it’s cute-No, dumb.

He leans closer. “Beg”.

The expression on your face turns to disgust. “I’m not going to beg”.

“Then I keep it”, he says, turning like he’s about to leave. Lloyd waits for you to tell him to stop and start begging. Like always, you surprise him with your actions.

“You little piece of shit”

He didn’t expect that.

Lloyd turns around and looks at you with an angry look. “What did you just say?”.

“I said you Little piece of shit. Do you want me to spell it out for you?”

Lloyd takes two big steps towards you. Now face to face with you. Well, face to chest with you. You can feel his breath hitting your face. He leans over you, towering over you and glaring down at you. “Oh, sunshine”, he says in a threatening tone.

Lloyd looks you up and down, deciding what he’s going to say next. Somehow, he doesn’t want to scare you. But why? Why can’t he be mean? It’s so easy to be mean. He shouldn’t have to worry about someone’s feelings. For god’s sake, he’s Lloyd Hansen! Not some weak butt waxing twink!

He snaps back when he hears you talk first.

“Yes, moonlight?”, you ask teasingly.

He takes a small step back and looks at you confused, “What did you just call me?”. Lloyd can’t believe that you just called him that.

“Moonlight”, you say.

“Don’t call me that!” Lloyd demands. Moonlight? That’s so…cute. Disgusting!

“Why not? You also don’t call me by my name”

Lloyd lets out a cold laugh. “Well, I can’t even remember your stupid name. Also, I wouldn’t give a shit about your name. I call you whatever I want…Sunshine. Now you better call me by my name, or” he licks his lips “you can always call me daddy, Sunshine”, he says, giving you a cocky smile.

Of course he knows your name. He remembers how he kept saying your name while he-NO.

A small chuckle leaves your mouth as he says that. “I never complained about the nickname. I like you calling me Sunshine”, you say, “by the way, I don’t even know your name”.

Lloyd stares at you, not believing what you just said. “What do you mean?”, he asks.

“You never told me your name”

Lloyd thinks hard. Did he really lay with you on a porch the whole evening completely high and he didn’t even tell you his name? He quickly stops feeling bad for not telling you. Everybody should know him. He’s like the most famous person at Harvard and a football player. So he scuffs and says, “Ha, everyone knows me. Either you are lying or really dumber than I originally thought”

“I’m sorry that I don’t know every preppy frat boy. While you try to get every girl to fuck you and spent most days partying. I learn, so don’t tell me im dumb.”

Lloyd moves closer again with a scowl on his face “I don’t try to get every girl to fuck me, Sunshine. Every girl tries to get me to fuck them” he smirks “that’s different”.

You roll your eyes at him. “Sorry I didn’t indented to strike your ego”.

“You didn’t. I don’t listen to what a little girl is saying”

The air turns colder, and the clouds turned even darker. It’s going to rain any minute now. Lloyd sees how you look at the sky before he says, “let’s walk somewhere where we won’t look like a fucking wet dog in a second”. He surprises himself with saying that. Ok yes, normally he would’ve walked somewhere, so he doesn’t get wet either way, but not tell the other person to come with him. The devil on his shoulder starts to get annoyed with his behavior.

You nod and you both walk towards somewhere under roofed. The first raindrops begin to fall down. Both of you start walking faster towards the school library. Lloyd doesn’t seem to like the idea of going inside a stupid library, but otherwise it’s the nearest under roofed place and not many people will be there. No one will see him there with you.

As you both walk in, you get greeted with a warm wave and the smell of dark wood and paper. It’s quiet and so far you can tell no one else is here.

Lloyd makes and grimace as he takes in the place. To him it really looks like a circus for nerds. Hundreds of books, many different kinds and all of them are fucking boring. Why would people willingly spend time here. He turns towards you as you rip the canvas out of his hands.

“Thank you for carrying my canvas”, you say, giving him a warm smile, and Lloyd feels his heart melt. You look so cute with your slightly entangled hair du to the wind, small raindrops on your forehead, your shining eyes and thin mint colored cardigan.

“Your welcome, Sunshine”

Both of you walk to a small corner of the library. Lloyd wants to because he doesn’t want to be seen and you just follow him. He’s leaning against the bookshelves while you are sitting at a study table. The library is filled with the sound of the rain hitting the roof.

Lloyd is the first one to say something, “You are weird”.

Your eyes go wide, “huh?”.

“You are fucking weird”

“Why?”

“Because-“ Lloyd thinks for a second “you paint”

“And that’s why im weird?” you say, confused.

Why did he have to start this conversation? Lloyd thinks to himself. He could’ve just said something like ‘I love my dick’ or ‘I destroyed everyone is baseball’, but no, he had to say that. Great job.

You tilt your head when you hear nothing, and Lloyd lets out a snarl. His face is ridiculous. He's watching you like a predator watches its prey. He's standing there, utterly motionless, his body tensed as if ready to strike.

He throws up his hands, “can’t you just shut up for ones?”, his tone shows annoyance.

Your eyebrows furry and you softly hold up your hands a bit “alright, calm down”.

His piercing eyes stare into yours with a cold, calculating intensity and you knew that you had to handle this carefully. You don’t understand how someone can have such sensitive impulse problems. He’s like a ticking bomb, ready to explode any second.

The air is thick and neither of you says anything. Both of you are sitting in silence for quiet awhile. The silence gets broken when you take out some papers from your bag, and Lloyd’s cold gaze slowly falls into confusion and curiosity.

You grab a paper and start folding it. Each fold sits perfectly. He watches you as you continue to fold the paper. Lloyd would never say it, but he really, really wants to know what you are doing. After a minute, you are done. In your hand, a little paper bunny.

“Origami, really?” Lloyd asks, raising a brow.

You nod your head as you get out another paper “yes”. It’s silent again, the only sound coming from you folding the paper.

After your fifth origami, Lloyd moves from his place again the bookshelves and walks towards the table you are sitting on and takes a place next to you. He doesn’t say anything as he takes a piece of paper and starts folding it.

Your eyes move away from your own paper towards his face and then his own paper. His origami is so far fantastic. A smile slowly forms on your face. “You can do origami”, you state.

He lets out a scoff. “Oh, really”, he says sarcastically, “nice to see that your eyes are working”.

“That was a compliment, Moonlight. You origami is really good”

A blush creeps up on his face as you said that. You just gave him a compliment, a really nice one too. Obviously, he gets compliments a lot for his baseball skills, his looks, his dick, his skills in sinful acts. But this is somehow different. He doesn’t know why though. Also, you said this stupid lovely nickname again. Lloyd hates it obviously………a lot…… .

He quickly coughs and tries to hide his red face somehow. “Uhm, I uh ok…I know im good”.

You shoot him another smile before focusing back on your origami, which makes you unable to notice how Lloyd turned his attention now towards you. He doesn’t watch your hands folding the paper though, no; he stares at your face. Like the night you met when you sketched him, you frown again when you get into details. Lloyd is almost 100% sure that you don’t even know that you frown when you concentrate on the details. He quickly looks back again when you lift your head a bit.

Both of you are folding origami in silence.

“Its Lloyd” Lloyd breaks the silence.

“Huh?” you ask, turning your head.

“My name”, he says, “my name is Lloyd Hansen”. His eyes move to yours.

“Lloyd” you try out his name, with a smile “It fits”.

A chuckle leaves Lloyd’s mouth. “Well thank you”. He doesn’t even realize that he just said thank you or that he is showing some sort of kindness.

You tilt your head, “I prefer Moonlight though”, you say with a teasing look.

He gives you an almost playful glare “Oh, sunshine. Be honest, you are just too dumb to remember my name. Is Alzheimer already kicking in?”.

You return the playful glare and say, “No, maybe by you. You are overall already wearing grandpa clothes”, you point to his clothes.

“Excuse me”, he hold a hand to his chest, “in what world is a polo shirt grandpa clothes?”

“In a world where old people are playing golf, but actually just because they want to see young girls in short skirts. Rich old man who are looking for someone that gets their wrinkly not working old dicks up”.

He looks at you maybe because your beautiful lips just lead out such mature words or because you compared his dick to an old mans disgusting dick. Either way, he’s speechless.

“I’m just kidding”, you say and continue to fold. Surprisingly, Lloyd doesn’t say anything.

Time flies fast. Both of you are now about two hours in this library, folding origamis, filling the whole table. While you did a bunch of flowers origami’s, Lloyd did butterflies. A bunch of cute little butterflies.

In those two hours, neither of you said a word let alone opened their mouth.

Lloyd finishes another butterfly and moves to grab another paper but only comes in contact with the surface of the table. He looks and sees that you both ran out of papers. Lloyd would never admit it, but he’s actually pretty sad that he cant fold anymore origami’s. If no one including were around, he would probably grab a book and rip some pages out, but that would mean that he wants to fold some more origami’s and he was obviously just folding them before just because be was bored and not because he was actually enjoying it…duh.

You notice it too, “I guess that’s it” you turn to look at your guys origami work “that’s quite much”.

“What are you fucking smiling at, Sunshine” Lloyd says as a smile breaks out on your face. His eyes don’t show coldness.

“I like your butterflies” you point to his work “they are cute”.

He tries desperately to hide the blush that is about to take over his whole face. No one ever said something like at to him, ok, to something he did. A thank you would be the right thing to say.

“Better than your trash”

Great job.

“Moonlight”, you begin, making him let out a sigh, “don’t say that. I did a bunch of different origami’s. You just did the same one over and over again for two whole hours”.

“Ok ok, yours look pretty good too…but mine still look better”. How deep did he fall to actually say something like that? He already said thank you today and now also some form of sorry. The devil on Lloyd’s shoulder is furious, but for the first time, the angel on his shoulder is smiling. For the very first time.

“Thank you, Moonlight” you say, your face shows true thankfulness “here’s something for you for being that nice” you say and give him a piece of paper.

Lloyd chuckles and goes for folding it, but stops when he looks at the piece of paper. It’s not just a piece of paper, it’s the sketch. The sketch you did on the night you both lay on the. He suddenly feels like it’s that night again where it was just you and him alone, together. His face starts to glow and a soft smile appears on his face, and not because he’s looking at a hot sketch of himself, but because it’s you. It’s you who did it for him. It’s you who spend the night laying on the floor with him, who sacrificed her cardigan so he would even sit on the floor, who shared brownies with him, who was nice even though he was his typical asshole self.

Who he almost kissed.

“Turn it around”, you say softly.

Lloyd turns the paper and in the right corner he sees why you wanted him to do it around. In a soft handwriting it says:

To my Vincent ven Google

“I didn’t knew your name and uhm”, you stutter a bit “I just thought that would fit because uhm you know-”. You stop talking when Lloyd grape your hand and kisses it.

“Thank you, Sunshine”, he whispers and lets your hand immediately go after it.

Lloyd looks at you softly. The soft yellow light of the library shining at your face and making it look like porcelain, but also soft. Lloyd wants nothing more than to caress your cheek. To touch you. To feel you. Not in the sexual way, though. In a way he can’t describe.

He doesn’t know why he feels the way he feels around you. It’s like around him is always some darkness, keeping him locked in a cocoon, locked from the light. That’s until you came and manage to break a part of his cell. It’s like he finally sees the sunlight, and it’s so warm. It’s like nothing he ever felt before. The warmness is going through him like deadly radiation, but somehow he doesn’t feel like he’s going to die. He feels like he’s going to live, which is weird because he’s already alive. His body is alive, he can run, jump, fight and every other physical activity. Now it’s though, like his heart is alive. Like before it was just an empty thing in his chest with no true benefit, but now its beating, its moving fast and loud.

Not only his heart became alive and making him feel something he never felt before, but he’s also feeling some kind of warmness down there. Not his dick. He’s feeling warmness in his stomach, which sound even weirder than the stuff before that. It’s not just warmness. It’s like a warm sunshine is dancing in there, letting him feel a complete new kind of emotion. He doesn’t hate it though, no. He likes it. He likes these new feelings. He likes the warmness he’s feeling.

Lloyd moves closer to you, your shoulder touching. He can smell your soft flower perfume. Well, he doesn’t even know if it’s a perfume or if it’s really just how you smell. He likes it either way. You too can smell his cologne. It still smells fucking expensive.

Neither of you saying something or looking at the other. You both stare forward. The feeling in Lloyd’s chest and stomach is getting bigger and bigger, and not only by him.

You feel it too. This feeling. It’s a bit different from Lloyd’s though. It’s more like you’re lost in a desert, no clouds coating the skin, nothing except the ocean of sand. You’re drowning in this ocean alone, helpless. Until darkness encases the hot sunshine and pulls you out of the ocean. It’s cold and dark, but safe. Instead of being scary, it’s like a night light. Trillion little lights shining in the dark, each telling a story, a secret behind the darkness of their outer appearance. Then there’s the sun of the darkness, the sister of the warm sun. A cold sun. The light of the moon is peaceful and quiet instead of the loud shine of the sun.

For the first time, your heart is not overheating. It’s not beating like it’s on fire. It’s calm. Like a layer of light encased it. Not a warm light, a dark peaceful light. Like the moonshine is wrapping itself around the flame like a glass to extinguish the flame.

You feel like the moonshine is dancing inside your stomach. Like a million shooting stars are flying in the beautiful darkness.

Your hands move closer until they touch, both of your hearts beating faster and the dancing in your stomach grows. Lloyd pinkie moves onto your hand and wraps around yours, intertwining your pinkies. Your pinkie pulls his closer, making him blush and this time he doesn’t try to hide it.

He moves his other hand towards your face and softly grabs your cheek and turns your head towards his. Now it’s your turn to blush. Lloyd looks at your lips before he moves his eyes to look into your shining eyes. He swears that the sunshine is his stomach is now rocking the dance floor as your hand that is not intertwined with his pinkie moves to the space between his shoulder and neck. Lloyd feels your warm fingers come in contact with his cold skin. You now move your gaze to his lips too, and Lloyd sees that as the final consent to do his next move.

He slowly pulls your face closer and closer. He needs to kiss you.

The night you both met you told him that he should sometimes use a chapsticks for his ‘crusty’ lips and he declined and said that’s not for men. He secretly used them, and his lips never felt softer before. It’s not like he’s scared that you will say that his lips are crusty when he kisses you. Ok, he is, but the chances are slim thanks to the chapsticks.

You both start to lean and close your eyes, only a millimeter, till your lips finally touch.

Your lips meet.

At least that’s what Lloyd hoped for, but a loud noise broke what was supposed to be your guys first kiss in the last second.

A growl leaves Lloyd’s mouth. He was so close to kissing you. SO CLOSE. He stops his inner tantrum when he listens to the noise and jumps up from the table.

“LLOYD, where the fuck are you?” Denny screams, giving zero fuck about the students who try to study. “Do you see him?” he asks the rest of the football team.

You both were so concentrated on your origami’s that you didn’t even realize that it stopped raining, and Lloyd’s frat bros aka. Team members looked for him. He doesn’t know why really, because normally they leave him be. When he’s not training, partying or having a game, he is fucking.

Lloyd needs to get out NOW. They can’t see him here, not in a library, not in a library….with you. He turns to you for a second and sees you looking at him with a neutral expression. Lloyd immediately looks away and just as he is about to sneak around the corner to the door to get outside with none of his bros noticing him, he slightly turns his head not turning to look at you though, and says “goodbye, Sunshine”.

Then he flees.

Not a minute later Carmichael walks by and looks at you with his dark eyes, which show no emotions, before he continues his search.

[madsworld15]

Chapter 4 Section 2 of Heal Me, Hold Me, Make Me, Know Me.

QAF Brian/Justin. Asexual Spectrum Representation. Series Retelling AU.

Thanks always to @winderlylandchime @maryp50 and @lostcol for supporting me! Enjoy!

~~~~~

Brian watched Justin leave with his bag in hand. He wanted to tell the young man that he cared about him, that they were still good. He needed to tell Justin that he was simply in a terrible headspace because he’d been forced to spend the day with his mother attending her extremely homophobic church. Brian knew all of these things should’ve been explained and that Justin would understand if he did, but his ego wouldn’t let him.

Instead, he was left in his loft alone but desperately wishing he wasn’t. For the first time in his life he hated that he wasn’t sharing his personal space with someone else. He wanted Justin to come back so much it hurt. He needed Justin almost as much as he needed air.

Woah. That’s a dangerous thought.

Brian rubbed his hand across his mouth and decided he would much rather be anywhere else right now, but he didn’t know where he could go at 3am. Most of his haunts were starting to close up shop. He needed a drink, but he also kind of wanted a bowl of warm, carb-filled pasta.

Without another thought he headed to his Jeep so he could drive over to Deb’s. He was sure that was where Justin might’ve gone too, but he wasn’t going to push things with the young blonde. No, right now he needed his mom — the only true mom he’d ever known.

She opened her door with a stern look on her face after his second rap. Without a word she let him in. Upon closing the door behind him she reached up and smacked the back of his head. Brian didn’t even complain because he knew he deserved it. The smack also let him know that she knew everything that had happened, which meant he wouldn’t have to explain himself.

Brian trudged into the kitchen where Vic sat at the table. He had a mug of tea in front of him while he picked at a slice of cake.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Vic looked up at Brian, “What’s your excuse, Kinney.”

Brian shrugged and sat down. “Take your pick.”

“Saint Joan or fucking with the one person who believes in your goodness beyond reason. Yeah I’d say either one is going to piss you off and make you look like a shithead.” Vic raised his mug to the younger man. “But we both know it’s all a self-deprecating front to keep yourself safe.”

Debbie walked into the room and gave a scoff. She crossed to the fridge and pulled out a Tupperware.

“Chicken Baked Ziti?” Debbie offered the Tupperware toward Brian who silently nodded.

She dished some into a bowl and threw it in the microwave. Brian knew from the silence that she was going to let him have it once she was ready. It was something he wasn’t looking forward to and he hoped she’d let him eat some pasta first.

A few minutes later, Debbie sat down next to him and slid the bowl of warm cheesy pasta in front of him. Brian immediately dug in and without having to ask, Debbie also placed a beer in front of him.

“I know seeing your mother is its own special brand of torture, but to take it out on Justin…” Debbie started once he was halfway done with his food.

“Stay out of it.” Brian turned to glare at her.

“Now you listen here you little shit.” Debbie wagged her finger at him. “You came to my home which gives me every right to protect that boy! I care about him. All you care about…”

Brian pushed the bowl away and reached for the beer. He knew she knew him better than anyone, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Getting my dick sucked. Yes, Emmett and Justin made it very clear. Can we please talk about ANYTHING else?!”

“You seem to have forgotten that you came to my house. And I don’t want to see Justin hurt.” Debbie practically yelled at him.

Brian found his mood teetering closer to annoyance than sympathy or regret for his actions.

“Well, that’s life. Better he learn it now.” Brian shrugged, putting his wall up hoping it would stop Debbie or Vic but it didn’t.

“I know you don’t actually feel that way.” Vic muttered under his breath. Barely drawing attention to himself. Brian looked toward him with a glare.

Part of him had hoped coming here would mean comfort carbs and an understanding presence. While the other part, the part he was most at war with, hoped Debbie would read him the riot act and allow him the ability to show how awful he actually felt about his actions.

“You think you’ve got everybody fooled, don’t you? Well not me, honey. I’ve known you too long and regrettably too well.” Debbie took on a softer, more motherly tone. “And no matter how hard you try to deny it, I can tell you care as much about him as he cares about you.”

Brian bit his lip and looked over to make eye contact with the woman. He fiddled with the label on the bottle before him.

“Only you ain’t got the big hairy cajones to say it.” Debbie fixed him with a knowing stare.

“Oh well maybe I can borrow yours.” Brian gave her his best sarcastic eye roll and drank from the bottle.

“Yeah well hey, whatever it takes.” She smirked and paused before continuing. “Do admit that you love him. And I know that you do. Despite all your efforts to never let another heart touch yours. That’s assuming you have one.”

Brian leaned over and hung his head. Everything she was saying was correct and he knew it. But that didn’t make hearing it any easier.

“That little persistent kid has somehow gotten in under the wire. And that’s what’s happened, huh.” Debbie reached out and smoothed her hand over Brian’s hair. It was a level of intimacy he only allowed from a select number of people.

“Admit the truth.” Brian looked at Debbie, unsure if she was really that perceptive and was going to say what he’d been trying to avoid thinking about since Justin moved in. “You love him, don’t you?”

Instead of answering, Brian leaned his head onto his hands and let out the breath he’d been holding for the last few seconds. Debbie had proved once again that she saw deeper under his walls than he would like, but appreciated it nonetheless.

“I thought so. Then tell him. Tell him what you could never tell Michael.” And with the mention of her son, Debbie motioned her eyes up to indicate Justin was upstairs.

Brian took one more swig from the bottle, sucked in his lips, and then stood up. Vic gave him a wicked grin of mischief and encouragement. It was the most unserious thing about the whole situation and was what spurred Brian on in the end. He walked out of the kitchen and skipped up the stairs.

Upon reaching the landing, Brian paused. He knew Justin was mad at him and he wouldn’t be surprised if the young man didn’t want to see him. But, he was there already, he might as well try. He knocked on Michael’s door and his heart ached at the voice that responded.

“Debbie, I know you’re worried but I’m fine.”

Brian leaned his head against the door and sighed. He quietly responded.

“I’m not Debbie, but I’d say you don’t sound fine.”

Brian’s heart clenched at the soft sniffles he could hear from the other side.

“Brian?” Justin’s voice was tinged with sadness and hope all at once. “Haven’t you done enough?”

Brian deserved that, but it didn’t make him hate it any less.

“Can I please come in so we can talk. I know I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

Brian stepped back to avoid falling forward when Justin opened the door suddenly.

“Careful, that sounds perilously close to an apology.” Justin bit his lip and gave a half smile while looking up through his lashes.

“Yeah, well I’m not totally opposed to apologies when I’m wrong.” Brian gave a shy smile. “I asked you to move in because of your attack, but that’s not why I want you to stay.”

Justin stepped away from the door letting Brian in. The brunette watched as the blonde worked through Brian’s statement in his head. It was clear that the younger man wanted to forgive him but was also wary of being made a fool by doing so.

“Okay so you want me to stay, but something has to change.” Justin turned to look Brian in the eye, “I won’t go back to feeling invisible.”

Brian couldn’t find his voice so he simply nodded until he could.

“This doesn’t mean we are suddenly married. Because I don’t do that shit.” Brian reached out to put a hand on Justin’s shoulder. “It means that I like your company and I want to be with you. I’ve gotten used to having you around that I don’t particularly mind it anymore.”

“Wow. You are really selling me on your commitment.” Justin smirked and gave a small cheeky giggle.

“Watch yourself.” Brian volleyed back.

Justin stepped closer to Brian and more into his touch. “So what does this mean for us?”

“It means I promise I won’t ever bring a trick back to the loft again.”

“Okay.” Justin nodded, his eyes serious.

“Also, if I’m out late just know that I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing. And when I come home…” Brian paused, the words catching in his throat. “I’ll also be doing exactly what I want to be doing. Coming home to you.”

Justin nodded, and then he leaned in for a kiss. Once he pulled away he gave his response.

“I want some things too. You can have sex with anyone you want as long as it’s not more than once, and no names or numbers exchanged.”

Brian nodded easily, “Deal.”

“And I want you to promise that no matter what you are doing you always come home by 2.”

Brian’s gaze bore into Justin’s “By 4.”

“Three.”

Brian turned away from Justin slightly and then came back to him in resignation. “Fine, by 3.”

Justin pulled him in for another searing kiss before saying more.

“And one more thing.” Brian looked at Justin with sincerity while his brain argued that all these rules were more than he could muster.

“You don’t kiss anyone on the mouth. Except me.” Justin quirked his eyebrow as if challenging Brian’s ability to agree to all these stipulations.

Brian gave a small shake of his head, smirked, and then grabbed Justin’s face in both his hands and planted a deep kiss on his lips. Brian put all his nonstated love and emotions into that kiss. He wanted to be sure Justin understood he would follow these rules and any others if it meant keeping Justin.

After they pulled apart, Brian found himself grabbing Justin’s hand and leading him toward the bed.

“Can I stay here with you tonight?” Brian asked in a small voice.

“I’m not that kind of girl.” Justin responded, his tongue in his cheek.

Brian tucked his lips in as he smiled at Justin. He knew that in this moment he could be vulnerable and Justin wouldn’t judge him for it. So, he squeezed the hand that held Justin’s before he responded.

“I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Justin reached up to cup Brian’s cheek with his free hand. “Then come sleep with me.”

Then they exchanged a kiss, chaste but still filled with emotion. Brian leaned his forehead on Justin’s and closed his eyes. With a sigh he let go and pulled off his shirt and stepped out of his shoes and jeans.

The two got into Michael’s old twin sized bed, practically lying on top of each other, but somehow making it work. At this point, Brian’s nakedness didn’t make Justin uncomfortable. However, Brian was conscientious enough to make sure his thigh was all that made contact with Justin.

“I had to sit next to my mother today as her priest spouted off about loving your fellow man. And her interpretation of that was to tell me how sexual deviants were going to hell. She didn’t say homosexuals, but it was heavily implied.” Brian finally whispered to the dark room as the silence between them got to be too much.

“Your mom sounds a treat.” Justin muttered, his hand finding Brian’s and grabbing hold.

“That’s Saint Joan.” Brian sighed as he placed a soft kiss to the top of the young man’s head.

“I’m sorry.” Justin replied. His voice was filled with kindness and it made Brian appreciate the blonde that much more.

“That’s life. You can’t choose your parents.” Brian shrugged.

Nothing else was said between them as Brian and Justin both slipped into dreamland.

[yaomomvs]

TAKE OUR HAND

seijoh x manager!reader

in which aoba johsai vbc just wants you to take their hand, just as the many times they have reached for yours when they needed it

pls i’m sorry i just wrote this for comfort, in having a terrible week and so, i just really need my seijoh boys to comfort me even if it’s just in my head and just so you know, and as i’ve been trying to convince myself, things always get better

tuesday, [15:56 pm]

“nice kill yahaba senpai!” kindaichi congratulates his upperclassman.

his voice makes you react, it scared you. still holding your pen and the notebook you always carry around even on normal practice days, your hand threatens you in the most scary way possible.

fuck no, just... breathe.

you are quick to leave aside the notes, and so, you look around to the boys, who just after the coach’s whistle sounds they are quick to approach your spot.

you take the water bottles as quickly as you can.

“oh y/n-san, i know we are irresistible but you can’t just slack off admiring us!” makki teases you laughing.

“if our dear manager is admiring someone is obviously me” oikawa says, before taking a sip of his bottle, slightly making you blush even more.

“i don’t think she likes idiots who still watch youtube conspiracy videos at 3am”

“iwa!”

“weren’t you the one with a secret obsession for romance manga, iwaizumi?” it’s mattsun time to expose his friend. iwai mi doesn’t hesitate and he runs directly to matsukawa, while kunimi brings out his phone to start recording the chaos in the gym.

you don’t listen.

your head hurts, and then, you once again feel this weird thing in you stomach. you have been feeling like this for the past week, and you try to ignore it . but sometimes, you just want the world to stop.

you can’-

“y/n senpai?” watari calls your name, and you notice his furrowed brows looking at you, worried. you blink and correct your posture. you had just zooned out. “is everything ok?”

“ah yes watari kun!” you force your self to sound relaxed because you feel the sudden gaze of the entire team “i was just thinking in a smart way to insult oikawa, but i’m worried he won’t understand tho”

“hey! you said i was your favorite”

you fake laugh once again assuring everyone that you were just fine. the day goes on, and somehow is becomes more difficult to just stay down not worrying about anything.

and they notice.

you don’t walk home with the guys today. instead you run to the bus not before excusing yourself with an ‘urgent family thing’

“just please don’t let makki eat so much ramen today!” you giggle as you run to the bus “i’m not in the mood to dealing with diarrea!”

“that was a secret between us darling!” the pink haired guy screams cheeks blushing.

and maybe you were just too distracted, but before you face them away some of them notice how quick your smile fades.

“you know guys” yahaba is quick to say “call me crazy but, why did she lie?”

—

wednesday, [10:22 am]

when was the last time you actually enjoyed school? not practice, but school itself. seeing numbers everyday in the board that you don’t understand is frustrating. your throat hurts, there’s has been a not there since the begging of the day.

swallow it, y/n, dammit

you decided to take this class, don’t blame the world, blame yourself. isn’t it supposed to be simple? why isn’t it being simple? is that... 

"Square root of 57 is equal to Xo, miss" 

"alright!" 

it is not like it’s a race, you want to say. why was the teacher obsessed with speed?, it’s unfair. your time is not the same as that of others. 

you drop the pencil and you recline in your chair, why couldn’t you do operations and analysis as fast as they could? you take a look around and the eyes of others look frightening. you see ambition, you see security, you see admiration.

the bell rings and you just want to run, and well in a way you end up doing it. leaving your homeroom, you tell your friends that for today you want to be alone, the halls of aoba johsai are big, for your fortune or misfortune. you go to the vending machine and when your drink falls, the minimum noise makes you startle, lately it’s like that, small noises or actions affect you way too much.

and iwaizumi notices it.

you don’t make a single move, it’s just the cold drink resting on your hands. and before iwaizumi could stop mattsun, he was already putting his hand on your shoulder.

“y/n!”

the orange juice spills and once again fear takes hold of you.

you see them both, you’re not stupid and you know hajime stares at you weirdly, and now mattsun, you hide your fear it a bit worse than yesterday, but you do anyways.

"someday, Matsukawa-san, YOU’RE GOING TO KILL ME! and what will you do without me?" you try to say cheerful, wanting to take away the suspicion, for a moment it works.

"flunk history, that leads me to..." 

"no, sweeheart, i won’t give you my homework" 

you walk and both guys follow you, one faster than another, very naive of the situation. "I begin to believe you hate me," says Mattsun, as the three sit on a bench near the school cafeteria casually encountering kunimi who quickly joins you, patting the folds of your skirt as you sit down, you rest on the table and admire his needy expression and as the tantrum of mattsun grows.

minutes go by, your chest pain grows, but somehow you know how to let it go.

 with your hands supporting your face, lunch passes between you and kunimi, you try to talk, you really try. 

but still, your eyes just glow, and kunimi notices how it’s not the glow you always have.

—

thursday [12:03]

your head is spinning, you can feel the cold sweat. will this be the time? why do you feel so small? why can’t you say it?

it’s familiar, you recognize this feeling, an ocean, you’re floating, you know you can swim, but, you’re in the middle of nowhere, you look down. Out of nowhere the intimidating depth of the ocean is beneath you. And then, you sink. You feel like you’re drowning, you feel like you’re fighting the tide, but you just can’t do it.

i just need...

no, it’s not time yet, it’s still training. the boys... you’re the one who should take care of them, you’re the one who has to be be fine. they had no time to lose, they had a goal and for the moment that was the most important thing.

On that bench, your gaze is absent, you know it is so.

and through the window that overlooks your classroom, oikawa notices it too

“y/n...” he mumbled.

of course he’d noticed. at first it was not so clear, but now he remembers.

when kindaichi pinned your dark circles to him, while admiring you by fitting volleyballs in a way not of your own.

makki watches oikawa from your side, you don’t even know the pink-haired guy is there, unaware that he’s sitting next to you. but he notices. he’s been noticing for days that your eyes are threatening to close in the middle of class.

hanamaki catches your attention and instantly that mask you’ve been wearing for weeks appears again.

"hanamaki, i’m fine"

it doesn’t convince them. they both look out the window and nod.

oikawa notices, and god, he wished he had no reason to.

—

friday [14:00 pm]

breathe.

please just... breathe.

you’re fed up. the feeling of guilt and discomfort is still there, can’t you be calm? people don’t need to know, but why do you want to shout it?

the dressing room is alone, the girls from the soccer team are out and it’s your only chance.

the team needs you, hold on a little.

your footsteps are heard in the hallway once again, a symphony you’re tired of listening to.

your chest hurts, your heart is aching, but you just need a little more. hands are shaking, the cold in your body, you need to stop.

you have to make them stop.

but when you walk into the gym, even with your eyes down, all you feel is warm. and it’s because, the boys were standing, aligned begging for you.

no, they beg for your sake.

and everything stops.

one hand from him on your neck, and one hand around your shoulders.

because oikawa, without warning, now has you in his arms.

and then, only then, you break.

tears don’t take long to come out, along with desperate sobs. your legs fail and out of nowhere, you and oikawa are on your knees.

with an alarmed look, the whole club runs towards both, surrounding you as sensibly as possible.

"i’m sorry, i’m sorry I’M SORRY" is heard from you, between hiccups.

“love, listen...” iwaizumi approaches you,somehow he managed to catch up with you, somehow he managed to hold your hand.

"i promise i didn’t want to, but i can’t, i can’t anymore, why can’t i? i try and i try and i keep trying but it’s never enough! IM TIRED OF SEEING SOMETHING AND NOT BEING ABLE TO PROCESS IT LIKE THE OTHERS. I’M TIREDD OF NEVER FULFILLING WHAT I SHOULD”

yahaba’s heart aches, and just as most of the team, is shocked.

your hands, oh your adorable hands, those hands that bandage his in the middle of an important game, he sees them shaking horribly between iwaizumi’s.

“AND I’M SCARED, WHAT IF I LOSE YOU BECAUSE OF THAT BECAUSE OF ME? BECAUSE OF HOW I AM I-“

watari is quick to place your hair gently behind your ear, a kunimi covers you with his jacket.

“I LOOK IN THE MIRROR AND I DONT RECOGNIZE MYSELF” you lower your voice, its cracked now “oikawa I don’t recognize myself, I want to be me again" you whisper, and a knot appears in the captain’s throat, and he puts a hand on your cheek "please... just let me be me again" your throat burns, your eyes get redder.

the gym goes silent, your words still echoing in everyone’s head.

“why didn’t you-“

“i just couldn’t” you blame yourself cutting oikawa off “look at us! we are waisting time on me when we should be- i’m the one who has to- im you support not-“

“hey hey, love...” iwaizumi whispers his voice is filled with sweetness, letting you sit correctly and softly rubbing his thumb in your hands “how many times have you been there for us? y/n your hand is always there”

“that’s true” kyotani says, finally saying something, emotions overwhelmed him a lot, but he genuinely wanted to help you.

“there’s something about you, there’s light” kindaichi follows up.

“no matter where, or how bad we are, somehow you always are helping us stand up” mattsun also tries to carefully approach you, he wants nothing more for you to feel safe.

and oikawa’s arms were still around you. he never stopped.

“we have reached your hand so many times, so now it’s time for you to please take ours” oikawa holds you face, and you see the sincerity and kindness behind his brown eyes, it feels like home.

mattsun does a sign asking the coach for a day off, both of them smile tenderly at you and give the green flag. iwa and makki are next to hold you carefully helping you stand up. they help you stop shaking but it’s mad dog the one who wipes your tears away with a tissue watari handled him. still not knowing if he did it the right way. you still feel kunimi’s scent. you still see kindaichi holding your school bag making sure nothing is missing. yahaba is the one bringing you water. and oikawa still refuses to let you go.

all of them feel like home.

“thank you”

and that’s how you know everything is going to feel fine.

because this club was yours and you were theirs.

this was home.

[tlcwrites]

Consequence

A birthday gift for @paper-n-ashes

Summary: When you steal the Supreme Leader's sweater, there are... repercussions.

Word Count: 3483

Tags/Warnings: Kylo Ren x Fem Reader. NSFW, 18+. MINORS DNI; PIV sex, unprotected sex (no glove no love), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, heavy dom/sub dynamic, praise kink, breath play, I'm probably forgetting other kinks but I finished this at 3AM last night and I'm not even sure that I used real words let alone remember what I wrote so if I missed any let me know and I'll update the tags, smuuuuuuut for daaaays, canon what's canon The Rise of Skywalker can go fuck itself mostly except for that beautiful white set of rooms on the Steadfast.

Author’s Note: It's my hetero lifemate @paper-n-ashes' birthday today (at least in my timezone for a few more hours so IT COUNTS sorry Sarah at least you got to read it yesterday) and she has been waiting SO patiently for me to finish this damn fic. I started writing it back in like November? Maybe even October? and have struggled so fucking hard with finding the mojo to finish it. Then out of the blue this week, said mojo came back and I figured Sarah's birthday was the perfect deadline. So, voila. And don't forget to go tell her how awesome she is.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY SISTER IN THIRST AND SHAMELESS HOEING. I couldn't actually get you Kylo so I got you this instead. #throne room hair is the best hair forever the end

You’re perched on the sofa, open book on your lap, when the comm chimes. You can’t help your soft smile; it’s finally that time of the day cycle.

You don’t bother answering the comm, since it’s an alert, not a call. Closing your book, you rise and return it to the bookcase set into the wall of the lounge. With a gentle press, the hatch closes, and the bookcase disappears into the stark white expanse of the rest of the room, precious cargo hidden. Books are an expensive indulgence, even for the Supreme Leader.

Or whomever he choses to share them with.

You cross to the base of the stairs that lead to the chamber’s entrance and open a small compartment, also a part of the structure of the room. You toe off your slippers, setting them carefully inside the cubby. Your soft leggings pants are next, folded carefully. You start to remove your sweater as well, but hesitate. It is chilly. For all of the technology the First Order has amassed, you’d think they’d have figured out how to keep their Destroyers at a comfortable temperature.

You leave the sweater. He’ll definitely have an… opinion about it.

Now bare but for the sweater and your bra, so scant it hardly deserves the term, you take your place at the base of the stairs. The hem of the sweater brushes your thighs. Standing tall, feet together, hands clasped loosely behind you, you wait. You keep your eyes on the blast doors.

When the doors finally open, you smile softly. “Good evening, Supreme Leader.”

His cape billows behind him as he descends the stairs (he’s clearly inherited his family's flair for dramatics). As he reaches the bottom, you respectfully drop your gaze. His boots stop in front of you, your bare feet looking so small compared to his. But then again, everything looks small compared to him.

He raises a gloved hand and strokes the back of a finger down the collar of your sweater. “What’s this?” His voice is throaty and deep. As usual, it sends a thrill through you.

You keep your eyes downcast. “A sweater, Supreme Leader.”

“Clearly.” His finger continues down from the collar of the garment, caressing the soft rise of your breasts. “Perhaps I should rephrase my question.” His finger catches your nipple, and you can’t help but gasp. “What is my sweater doing on your body, when your body doesn’t have permission to be wearing anything?”

You finally risk a glance up. His face is impassive, but there’s a glint in his eyes. He’s amused.

You raise your chin. He loves when you’re confident. “It was cold.”

“Cold.” The finger continues to tease your nipple through the fibers. “In space.” The tease turns into a flick, and you barely smother your gasp. His lips twitch. “Imagine that.”

He’s in a good mood. You decide to toy with him. “Perhaps I simply need something substantial to keep me warm, Supreme Leader.”

One eyebrow raises, ever so slightly. He’s going to play along. “Do you find my care unsatisfactory?”

“Of course not, Supreme Leader.” His finger has shifted to your other nipple. You take a shuddering breath. “I would never dare to question your wisdom.”

He shifts almost imperceptibly closer to you. “And yet-” He brings that accursed finger back up your sternum, tracing up your neck and ghosting over your jaw. “-is that not exactly what you’ve done by ignoring my directive?”

Kriff.

He passes the leather-wrapped digit over your lips, stroking the soft skin. “Nothing to say, pet?”

You drop your eyes again. “My most sincere apologies, Supreme Leader.”

His hum of approval reverberates in your chest. “I imagine they will be.” He applies the barest hint of pressure to your lips. “Open.”

You comply immediately, opening your mouth enough to allow his finger entrance. The leather tastes so different from his skin. He presses the thick digit inside, and doesn’t have to say a word as you begin to suck obediently. He adds a second finger and you can’t stifle your moan.

“Good girl.”

Two words. Just two words, hummed in that honeyed voice, and you can practically feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. You glance up once more.

He’s watching you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Maker, you love his eyes. You can always read him through his eyes. He tries so hard to bury his emotions, but nothing can be hidden in their cinnamon depths. And right now, his eyes say that he’s about half a standard second away from losing what’s left of his famously little control.

Hmm. Time to have a little more fun.

You deliberately graze his fingers with your teeth, the leather of his glove supple under your bite.

His cheek twitches and you know instinctively he’s chewing on it. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart,” he warns you.

Pulling your mouth off his fingers with a ‘pop’, you smile serenely up at him. “Whatever do you mean, Supreme Leader?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he purrs, dragging his spit-soaked fingers along the edge of your jaw, his own clenched as he tries to keep himself in check. “Careful you don’t get burned.”

Your smile becomes less teasing, and more sincere. It’s okay, you think, knowing he’ll be able to feel your emotions. You never guard yourself around him. I trust you, Master.

There’s a split second when his eyes search yours; for permission, for acceptance, for confirmation of that trust that you hold in him and that he holds in you. It’s a breath of a moment, but he leaves his raw self exposed.

He’s affection starved, your Supreme Leader, even if he’ll never admit it. Deep inside, where even his former masters couldn’t reach, is that little boy he once was; still desperate to please and be praised by those too focused elsewhere to pay attention, and terrified of disappointing those who do. It breaks your heart that he’s spent his whole life feeling so alone.

Your dynamic fills that void in a way he feels safe with. It’s on his terms. He needs your adoration; needs your worship. He craves the affirmation. No more abandonment and fear from those he should be able to trust most; no more abuse and gaslighting at the hands of those who are supposed to guide him.

Just trust, and love. Pure, unconditional love.

He presses his lips to yours.

You whimper into his kiss, pressing a hand against his massive chest to steady yourself.

In the next moment, he scoops you up, pressing you against the window and hooking your legs around his waist. You yelp at the coolness of the transparisteel against your back, even through the sweater, but he swallows your cry as he plunders your mouth.

“Kylo,” you whimper when he lets you up for air, but he ignores you, sucking a line down your neck to your collarbone.

“Get this off,” he growls, tugging at the neckline of the sweater. “Or I’ll take it off for you, and it won’t survive the removal.”

You let go of his shoulders, grasping the hem of the top and practically ripping it over your head.

His mouth is on you in an instant, those plush lips teasing one nipple at a time through your lacy scrap of a bra.

“Maker!” you gasp, flinging the sweater in the general direction of the floor and bringing both hands to grip his hair. Frantic fingers twist his dark waves. You could write sonnets to his hair. “Kylo!”

You feel the clasp of your bra come undone. He rips his lips from your breasts, and with one barely-there flick of his fingers, the undergarment is on the floor next to the sweater.

“Did you just-” It’s next to impossible to smother your giggle when you realize what he’s done. “I can’t imagine the Force is meant to be used for that.”

Kylo ignores you, although you’re positive you can detect the barest hint of a blush on his ears. But then you’re not paying attention to his ears, as he’s sucked one of your nipples back into his mouth and is grazing it with his teeth. Your moan turns into a shriek when he hooks his arms under your legs and hefts you higher against the wall, so it’s easier for him to feast on your flesh.

He shifts your weight to one of his massive arms, that paw of a hand gripping the opposite flesh of your rear as he brings his other hand back up to your mouth. “Open,” he commands once more.

You take the two still-gloved fingers as deep in your mouth as you can, gagging slightly as he presses on the back of your tongue.

His dark chuckle is breathless. “Such an eager whore,” he murmurs against your chest, your answering whimper going straight to his cock. Pulling his hand back, he nips the skin at your collarbone at the same time he drags the fingers you’ve just drenched straight through your swollen folds below.

“Do you even deserve my fingers, Pet?” He smirks as you drop your head back and moan. “Such a wanton little thing you are.” He teasingly traces a circle around your clit with just a fingertip, satisfaction growing at the sound the movement elicits from you.

“Master,” you gasp.

Without warning, he twists you away from the window, carrying you with ease to his desk. When he drops into his chair, he’s unable to suppress a sharp intake of breath as he settles you on his lap and brings your core into direct contact with his cock, hard and throbbing beneath his trousers. The contrast of your nudity with his still-clothed body is intoxicating. He guides your hips to roll against him again, your moans simultaneous as your cunt makes slick the leather stretched taut over his arousal.

Already closer to his breaking point than he'd prefer to admit, Kylo clamps his teeth down on the inside of his cheek hard enough to break the skin, the pain working as usual to allow him to refocus his energy and reclaim control of his passions. Unhinged as his reputation is, there is part of his life the Supreme Leader rules with meticulous care- you.

He knows you love him, and you’ve declared time and again it’s unconditional and without reservation. Your submission is a gift he knows he will never truly be worthy of. Maker knows he adores you with every part of his long-shrouded heart. But the fear never leaves him. Decades of distrust and broken promises means he lives in terror of the day his tenuous temper snaps, and he horrifies you or, stars forbid, truly hurts you.

That dark voice lurking at the back of his mind teases him with a possibility somehow perversely worse than fear or injury: abandonment. That you’ll inevitably see him at his most honest; broken, contemptible. Unworthy.

He loathes himself all the more, because he knows if it comes to it, he couldn’t survive letting you go. He isn’t strong enough to endure the loss of the only light he still has.

Unaware of his internal torture, you grip the front of his gambeson and try to rock your pelvis against him, whining as you’re foiled by his hands still gripping your hips. “Master, please.”

Your voice jerks him back to reality, and your begging makes his cock twice as hard. “Something you desire, Pet?” he purrs, grateful you were too wrapped in lust to notice his momentary lapse.

“You, Master.” You can’t help a frustrated whimper as you try once more to undulate against him and are again prevented from doing so. “Please, Kylo, let me please you.”

He reburies his anguish, and smirks at you. “Very well.” He releases your hips. “Please me.”

As soon as he lets go, you’re sliding off his lap and on to your knees, scrambling to unhook his belt. He obligingly helps you open his trousers. You make quick work of the placket and draw out your prize, salivating as you pump his already-leaking cock.

He hisses as your mouth engulfs him. “Yes, just like that. What a good, good girl you are.”

A lewd moan escapes around his length as he fists his hands in your hair.

He doesn’t need to say another word. You can read it in his eyes, every filthy, dark thought as you bob your head on his shaft. How good it feels when you take his cock in your throat; that he knows exactly how hot and wet it makes you when he fucks your mouth; how knowing you’re waiting in his quarters to be used as his personal whore is the only thing that gets him through the day. You moan again, and one corner of his mouth twitches.

You know him well enough to recognize it as a smirk.

“As delightful as this is, Pet,” he finally sighs, a slight waiver to his voice the only indicator of how close you already have him to release, “there’s a different part of you I desire at this moment.”

Releasing his cock with a ‘pop’, you continue to stroke him with your hand as you beam up at him. “As you wish, Master.”

Your mouth and chin are wet with precum and spit. He drags his thumb through the mess and brings it to your lips, his cock jumping in your grasp as you wrap your tongue around the digit.

“Up,” he snaps.

Rising immediately, you can’t help your squeak as he spins you to face the desk and pulls you back onto his lap, impaling you on his cock with one hard thrust. You gasp, unable to cry out as all the air is expelled from your lungs. Your arms are wrenched behind you by invisible bonds, the posture thrusting your breasts out. You hear his low chuckle as he tweaks both nipples while simultaneously bucking his hips, eliciting a shriek from you.

Thick fingers twist into your hair, pulling you back until you're flush with his chest. His breath is hot against your ear as he snarls two words that have your cunt clenching in anticipation: “Ride me.”

No further encouragement is necessary. He works your body over as you rock in his lap, reducing you to a burbling mass of arousal. Releasing his grip on your hair, his hands make their way down your body, the leather feeling so kriffing good as he caresses every inch of you.

Plush lips drag against your jaw as he leans forward, pressing his chest closer against your back. He trails his fingers up your thighs while simultaneously dragging his teeth along your earlobe. The noise that escapes you is undignified at best, and positively libidinous at worst.

The bastard’s smirk is obvious against your heated skin. “My beautiful Empress,” he murmurs, licking a stripe up your neck.

You can’t suppress your panting as he nips at the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I’m not your Empress,” you manage, your voice breathy with arousal as you continue to move.

“Mmmmm.” Kylo hums as his right hand trails up your abdomen to gently cup your left breast, those elegant fingers plucky at your nipple and making you moan. “Not yet.”

“Oh.” You squeak as he latches on to your pulse point, his teeth scraping over your skin as he marks you. His other hand drops to your core, fingertips stroking your folds as deftly as a musician plays a hallikset. You cry out as he deliberately ignores your clit, but your cry becomes a gasp as he abruptly slaps the inside of your thigh. “Kylo!”

“Feel how wet you are, little whore.” He pulls his hand from your cunt and wipes your slick across your cheek. “Only the most depraved whores drip like this.” When he wraps the same hand around your throat, you sob in euphoric bliss. His chuckle is low. “Look at you, reduced to a needy slut who wants nothing more than to be filled by her Master.”

You can’t help but moan as he tightens his grip, the other hand on your breast squeezing hard.

“Speak, Pet.” His order is hissed in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“Need you, Master,” you gasp, deliciously light headed from the lack of oxygen. “Need you to- oh, Maker!- need you to fill me, need you to fuck m-me oh!”

A squeal erupts as he abruptly thrusts up, hard, and proceeds to set a brutal pace. Helpless to do anything but take what he gives you, all you can do is wail and enjoy the desperation in his movements.

When he stands and surges forward, shoving you against his desk while still buried in your swollen heat, it’s just enough to send you over the edge and you crash into your climax with a scream.

Over your shoulder, you hear Kylo tsk in admonishment. “Oh, princess,” he chides, as you feel your Force bonds tighten even more, “you know better than to cum without permission.”

With that, he shoves you forward, pressing your chest flat against the thermoplastic and using his knee to spread your legs. You willingly comply, relishing in his hiss as he pumps into your wet, waiting warmth. He finally releases your throat, and the sensation of your cunt clenching as you cough is too much for him. His pace becomes blistering, each thrust sending your pelvic bone into the edge of the desk; speech is now beyond your power, incoherent babble all that remains as he obliterates your cunt.

The lewd symphony of your coupling is punctuated by his growls and your cries. You can already feel the crest rising anew and you beg for salvation. “Master, please!”

He grips the back of your neck, anchoring your head, snarling as he takes you with rapid, deep thrusts. “Do you think now you'll be able to follow instructions?”

You nod frantically, trying desperately to stave off your orgasm. “Yes, Master!”

His voice is deeper than ever, trembling slightly as he uses your body to chase his own end. “Tell me, my little slut; who owns you?”

“You, Master!” You can’t hold back the shriek that erupts from your lips as you feel that subtle tickling of his powers against your clit.

The sounds you’re making have him right on the edge. “You’re mine, all mine,” he sneers as you cry out once more. “Say it.”

“Yours, Kylo,” you gasp. “I’m yours!”

“You need to cum again, sweet little Pet?” When you frantically nod, he fists your hair and yanks your head back. “Do it,” he hisses next to your ear. “Cum for me. Now.”

You explode around him, screaming your pleasure. His echoing roar is your only warning before he slams into you a final time, ripping himself from your heat and snatching your body off the desk. You land on your knees just in time to receive his spend, splashing across your face and chest as he pumps his length.

---

It takes several moments before you can even start to become aware of your surroundings once more. In that time, Kylo has bundled you in your favorite cozy blanket, and cradles you in his lap as he smooths your hair back and murmurs sweet words of praise. His seed still decorates your body, and you preen as you feel his hands, finally ungloved, gently rub it into your skin as one more claim of his ownership.

Your contented sigh is what alerts him to your consciousness, and he can’t help his proud smile as your eyes slowly flutter open, or the chaste and caring kiss he presses to your temple. “How are you feeling, princess?”

A beaming smile is his reward. “Wonderful,” you sigh, and then giggle. “And filthy, in the best possible way.”

“As requested,” he slyly teases.

You notice that sometime during your torpor, he’s shed his gambeson and trousers, replacing them with soft lounge pants and  the stolen sweater. Hooking your fingers over the neckline, echoing his own earlier actions, you tug gently. “Thief.”

He laughs, your favorite sound in the galaxy. “The Jawa calls the Ewok short.” Your answering eye roll elicits another chuckle and another brush of his lips. “Happy birthday, love,” he murmurs against your forehead.

“Thank you, Supreme Leader.” Your smile is soft as you raise your face, content when he understands the overture and leans down to press his lips to yours. A/N: Alexa, play "I Want Kylo Ren To Rail Me on a Desk" by Beyoncé or someone.

Likes and reblogs feed my dirty, dirty soul. I always want to tag mutuals but then I feel like that would be super presumptuous even though I love being tagged, so IDK I guess send me an ask if you want me to tag you in new writings?

[trials-of-a-spirit-worker]

Funniest Interactions I’ve Had as a Spirit Worker

Even if you aren't a spirit witch or anything like that but you have experiences, I'd love to hear them. I've noticed I've been mostly talking about experiences that are more serious and that could turn people off to it and that's not my intention. It's a practice to careful with, sure, but it's not always like that.

👻 I've seen my ghosts skip my song. Like materialize enough to physically skip a song. That was a surreal one. I guess they didn't like the song. I know Apollo will influence my music if I'm writing it in a mood.

👻 Speaking of music, it is widely believed that there's someone/something is living in my ipod or in my speaker. By widely believed, I mean my partner, my sister, my nephew, my closer spiritual friends and I believe this. Certain songs represent different family members and have been known to interrupt other songs to play that suddenly if one of them have come home. It'll play songs based on the current air of the room and this had happened so often we can't call it coincidence any longer. It'll also have a habit of talking back in it's own way. And it's got humor. It'll even play my dirty/sexual songs when I'm getting intimate with my partner or if I'm writing smut. Music spirit knows what's up.

👻 Heard a spirit say "No" after seeing another spirit who had come and just left. And I mean it was a tone that just oozed with, “ugh this fucker”. 

👻 "Bumped" into someone getting out of my bathroom after a shower. They were showing signs of embarrassment and immediately turned away leaving. I saw a hand covering their face as they did so.

👻 Prolonged eye contact with my partner's dead cat after leaving the bathroom, got spooked by the living one who requested my attention. Also, a ghost cat running in between your legs is far more annoying than a live one. You eventually see/feel the living cat be the reason you almost trip up. The ghost cat is much colder and sends a chill straight up the body from the ankles. Most awkward feeling ever. Nose boops are much colder when they're dead.

👻 Spirits trying to catch up with lingo. Hearing a random yeet at 3am is not something you'd think you'd hear but...I did. That one still seems like a fever dream.

👻 Admittedly when my hearing cuts off from them is funny as hell. Think of the salami sound from TikTok. (Heey-- Salami)

[pen-observing]

I recently finished my fic in which Diavolo cheats on MC so it got me thinking; and someone was speculating which bro MC should move on with. So that is where this came from. You can tell how I started with big brain time but then my one brain cell remained at the end.

How the brothers react/pursue you after Diavolo cheats on you while married:

Lucifer:

He has had internal questions about what his own loyalty meant and represented. After all, he values it the most. He begins to question what it means to have sworn loyalty to the man who could not even be loyal to his spouse- to you.

As a friend he; does not let Diavolo rest and he judges him outwardly, but as a right-hand man; he knows that Diavolo’s ability to rule is unquestionable

Lucifer will not ask for understanding from you but he hopes you have it  

He hopes you know that he can simultaneously judge the man while helping him care for the Devildom

In fact, you both have to be mature about this

Lucifer lets you go through all the emotions in front of him, in the privacy of the house. It is his way of showing you what true pride means. Why should Diavolo or other citizens see you suffering over an unfaithful man?

He tries to make your life as easy as possible. Your room is clean, everything is in order even If in a fit of anger, you leave it differently. You do not have to cook; you don’t really have to do anything besides get better. He would take on your work despite the obligations he has.

If Diavolo comes for business to the House, Lucifer will make sure you are far away and protected

He treats you oh so gently, as gently as he can

And through that gentleness and care- emotions rise and turn into something more

At first, your relationship is built in privacy.  

The love, however, cannot be hidden from his brothers so they are the only ones who know

The Devildom is a cruel place; what would they say about Lucifer and you? Diavolo’s right hand man with Diavolo’s ex-spouse? Must have been an affair. They would claim you were the one who cheated

From that worry it remains private for quite some time.  

However, there comes a point where privacy and secrecy become blurred.  

Knowing that neither of you wanted secrecy just privacy, makes you both realize that there is no reason to hide something which developed so naturally.  

So, when the next ball comes, you don’t shy away from dancing together even as Diavolo and the entire Devildom watches.

Mammon:

In my humble opinion, the best one for this situation, listen listen- I will explain

Why?

Mammon does not shy away from expressing distaste and hate towards Diavolo for you. He has no obligations, he hasn’t sworn loyalty to him, he hasn’t really gotten on his nerves before so he is completely free

As the second brother he can openly tell Diavolo what he thinks (Lucifer makes sure it doesn’t get out of hand) and Diavolo can’t really claim that he hasn’t cheated on you so Mammon has the upper hand in a weird way.  

But here is the biggest reason

Mammon’s loyalty and his feelings for you are something you will never have a chance to doubt

He was your first, he loved you first and he continues to do so

His love washes over you, it never drowns you

He does not leave your side as emotions come washing over you.

He has enough sense to match them as well

Boy practically moves into your room and if sometimes you kick him out so what?  

Belphie definitely did not find him guarding your door nor sleeping next to it to make sure you were okay on a particularly bad day

After you heal it only makes sense to love Mammon; the most loyal by choice. The one who helped you heal and made sure you were whole again

He doesn’t even ask for your love- he earns it.

In fact, you don’t even need to have the ‘Oh Great Mammon, what are we?’ convo anyone dreads because it is as obvious as his love from day one

Leviathan:

His mood oh my God okay listen carefully here

Does he feel disgust towards Diavolo? Does he feel anger towards the man? Yes. A lot of it.

Does he still know Diavolo is stronger? Does he think Diavolo is still the most desirable man considering his position, his power and influence? Also yes

He is envious of Diavolo but at the same time he knows that his faithfulness is 100/10  

At least that is where Levi finds comfort, a sense of pride and confidence

But what overrides all of those emotions is when he sees how broken and sad you are over the whole thing

He even forgets about Diavolo and tries to do everything he can

Sure, his methods are unorthodox. Bringing you Beel’s big bowl of ice-cream at 3am because he saw it in in anime? This is what humans do right?

Who cares? he risked his life and Beel eating his Ruri-chan figurines for you

He goes on a spree to investigate how to help you and surprisingly, his emotions match yours quite well

You need to rant? Come, he will make up insults with you as well! Henry hears them all! The best place to rant is in front of his tank- It is big, bright, reminds you there is still light but the echo?? The acoustics of the place? Amazing for dramatic displays

You want to cry? Levi is awkward with reacting to such a display but he doesn’t run away from it

He never confronts Diavolo head on but a permanent glare is etched onto his face. Everyone knows what Levi is thinking

He subtweets like crazy  

He heard you once say that hitting Diavolo’s face without repercussions would bring immense joy so what does he do? Ta-dah a game where Diavolo is the target and you shoot! Go go!! aim at the fool!

Honestly, Levi does not even think about pursuing you. He does whatever he can to be the Henry, to be the best friend to you.

Your trope is friends to lovers! And the best part is that Levi doesn’t even notice it!

You, absolutely have to be bold and confess to him first

And when you do---good luck trying to keep him from passing out

Satan:

It is a dark and dreadful day when this man finds out what happened.  

Why is everything quiet? Why is everyone avoiding him? Did Devildom suddenly become devoid of life? Undead life, sure, but still life?

Satan is wrath but he is also the most composed of his brothers. It is tricky even to tell him because what if he reacts impulsively? Who would save everything in his path?

The way he finds out is what matters here

He is a gentleman, an analytical being who does not miss your body language but he lets you speak anyway

Approach him carefully but do not be afraid of him, please

Be as composed as you can when you tell him that Diavolo cheated on you

Immediately he will go into his Demon for but his eyes are on you

On you, human so much weaker than him who Is holding their own

So as angry as he is; livid. Furious. Seething. He knows that destruction is not the best option. His eyes hold care and worry directed towards you.  

Satan realizes he has to meet your maturity if he wishes to help you.

And he does but,,,, he remains petty omg

Satan knows he is slick and sly enough to insult Diavolo any chance he gets without fear of repercussions because ‘he just go big brain time and you can’t punish his petty ways.’

Listen carefully, he has never won in chess against Diavolo but now,, he has the biggest desire to for your sake  

On a spur takes you to the human world one day to remind you how resilient humans can be. In a library he starts showing you examples of love stories and how they are relevant to you

‘Satan I really do not think that Cleopatra has anything to do wi-’ ‘Trust me, I will explain it right now.’

In a way, anytime he mentions a human getting over heartbreak he admires you

Does not shy away from expressing it as you gradually move on from Diavolo either

Sometimes, he doesn’t even know how flirty he can be

What? Top 10 love stories in which the main character falls for a charismatic, charming guy after being cheated on? That is pure coincidence

In actuality, Satan makes you blush and feel a connection while you are in the process of moving on

As you heal from Diavolo Satan’s advances get bolder. He is still careful; he wants you to see him as an option but not mix up all of your emotions

Once you are fully over Diavolo, it is impossible not to almost momentarily recognize the feelings Satan has; not to recognize the feelings you have  

He will approach you about it first and even if you are cute in denying them, he really doesn’t give any space for lying about them

Asmodeus:

Let us get something straight,,, Asmodeus is the best at picking up on body language

He has incredible empathy and sympathy for you

He notices all the small details and changes and knows how to help you

He can think of so many ways to get your mind off Diavolo it is impressive

But,,,but!

Asmodeus is not stupid.

Asmodeus is careful and calculating

At first, he lets his other brothers console you.

He gives them tips about it too! If they can’t come up with anything Asmo is a fountain of new ideas

It seems like he is there as a plus one to his brothers, it seems like he is avoiding you while still helping you from the shadows

Why?

Asmo is not dumb, Asmo knows what his sin is and what it represents

He is confident but he questions how you would react and treat him after what happened

If he spent more time and payed attention to Diavolo he could have reacted?

What if you blame him for what happened? What if you blame his sin? It is easy to say you blame the sin not Asmo himself but he can never be separated from it 

Asmodeus worries about it- to everyone's surprise

So, seek him out. Seek out this hero who doesn’t want any credit for his ideas and comfort. It is his strange way of ‘making up to you’

As soon as Asmo sees you coming to him, and worrying about him despite what you are going through- he knows. He knows you do not separate him from his sin. He knows you don’t blame him in the slightest

So, prepare for the best recovery of your life

It is amazing how Asmo does it. His brothers are envious and amazed at his ability to comfort you and bring a smile to your face.

His ideas now have him involved as well! He is the biggest bonus!

Asmodeus in reality, through everything he does- puts self-love first.

He teaches you, outwardly and inwardly, how to have confidence and how to love yourself. He demands that you never doubt your self-worth.

In a way, while Asmo is openly flirtatious and comfortable, you have to bring it up first in a serious manner if you have fallen in love. 

Beelzebub:

Excuse me?  

You said what? Diavolo did what?

What happened?

Beelzebub asks a few times because he honestly finds it so hard to believe that Diavolo is not strong when it comes to self-control

He finds it incredibly hard to believe that Diavolo would be stupid to cheat on you?

He is not sly like Satan, he is not aggressive as Mammon, he is not quiet as Levi but he nonchalantly makes it obvious how he feels about what happened. A disinterested Beel at student council meetings, a sharp glare; some unkind words which just slip out.

Belphie is thrilled to see his brother like this but Beel has enough control to realize what truly matters is bringing you peace. How could he do that If he pays attention to Diavolo? Well.

His very presence brings you peace and comfort

Beelzebub knows how to enjoy life in simple aspects.  

He doesn’t even try to be flashy to make you feel better

His natural charm, gentleness and warmth is all around you

Just staying next to him, in silence, is enough to make you feel better

Pursing you and pursing a relationship with one another, like all things, is very simple with this boy

Just like everything else

He would never hurt you and he became the best security you could ask for

He almost yeeted a piano at Diavolo when he came to visit Lucifer on business but alas, that is a different story

Belphegor:

He knows what happened. As soon as you walk through the door, he manifests there

Arms crossed; an eyebrow raised

‘I told you so.’

It becomes his favourite sentence

Definitely the tough love kind of friend (Same Belphie I felt that)

Because of this he never lets you forget how much Diavolo sucks

‘How could you trust a man who is afraid of pickles?’ ‘I-I don’t think that has anything to do wi-’ ‘It obviously does.’

He already threatened Diavolo before, he made Diavolo go emo. His sarcasm and snide remarks do not rest

Everything is intensified with this boy

You want to rant about Diavolo? The best. He will rant more than you and even tell you embarrassing stories you didn’t know about the guy

‘One time, he heard about weed and made Barbatos bring it to him. Do you know how embarrassing a gold joint it? Anyway- he thought the Devildom turned into a game and followed Lucifer around for 5 days thinking he was a secret spy.’

Belphegor would make sure you sleep and get enough rest because, according to him, that is where healing starts. He will get your consent to use his powers on you first tho.

In reality, Belphegor is not shy with his advances but they would fly over your head most of the time

After a while he will absolutely confess when he is secure enough that you feel the same

Why? If you like the ‘I have fallen in love and didn’t even realize it until his great romantic gesture’ trope- Belphie is your man.

[ivorysoapshavings]

Matching (Kenma x reader)

You were up late overthinking about life when you came to the conclusion that dying your hair would solve your problems (or at least cover them up). You grab your keys and head out the door to grab what you needed for this midnight adventure

You were practically buzzing as you stepped out of your car and into the Drugstore parking lot. You’re nervous and exited energy mixing together creating this weir anticipation. ‘Should I actually do this, this is probably a disastrous idea,” you worried to yourself. Just as soon as the wave of doubt came it vanished “no,” you muttered to yourself “you want this you will have it, it will look great,” Without another doubt you waltzed straight into your local drugstore, heading straight for the hair isle. One you were there you grabbed bleach for your hair, a box of bright almost highlighter orange hair die, some gloves, and an applicator. You quickly paid for your items and left the store way too excited for this. But a realization dawned on you as you sat down in your car ready to drive back home ‘I have no idea how the fuck I am supposed to go about doing this.’ the most you have ever done with your hair is style it; also those videos of peoples hair falling out because they did something wrong kind of terrified you.

You sat in your car for a good thirty minutes contemplating how you should do this, if you should do this. Those fears of people hating it, having to shave your head, people staring at you almost made you want to throw the dye away and never think about it again. ‘I’ll just call Kenma and see what he thinks’ you thought to yourself

“Oh my god, Kenma!” you shouted face palming “I’m an idiot,” you grabbed your phone to text Kenma,

You: b there in 5 b ready😼😽

Ken🕺🕺: u in trouble or 3am impulsive decision

You: 3am impulsive decision that's going to get me in trouble

Ken🕺🕺: k doors unlocked

You put your phone down and go to start your car all the nervous energy now gone replaced with excitement.

You hop out of your car almost forgetting to grab the bag with the dye and make your way into the apartment building, taking the all to familiar path to Kenmas apartment. After taking a few flights of stairs you reached his door. Quickly you went inside eager to get started. You went straight to his office turned gaming/streaming room knowing thats where he would be. You opened the door to him surprisingly streaming.

“I thought you didn’t stream past 2am,” you said confused

“Well hello to you too,” he said sarcastically pausing his game to face you, “and I couldn't sleep and I was bored,”

“Cool mind if I join,” you tossed the bag full of dye in Kenmas direction and turned to pull up a chair to sit next to him. You heard a small chuckle as he searched the bag you tossed at him.

“Not at all, all though your text makes sense now,” he looked at you smirking as you placed your chair next to him. You just smiled and faced his monitors, one with raft pulled up and the other with chat and all the stream settings.

You waved “hey guys I’m back interrupting stream again,”

Kenma chuckled “ for those that are new here this is (y/n), my frie-,”

“Favorite bestest friend ever,” you interrupted proudly

“Acquaintance,” he finished.

You turned and pouted at him, “mean”

“Anyways,” he turned back to his stream “we are having an unplanned break from the game, because this thing,” he gestured at me, “Is incapable of dying their hair and wants me to do it.” you stuck your tongue out at him and her returned the gesture. He grabbed the bag again laying everything out on the table. He picked up the bleach you got and made a disgusted face and tossed it back into the shopping bag.

“We’re using my bleach, that shit you got’ll destroy your hair,” he said getting up and leaving the room. ‘Thank God I didn’t decide to do this myself’ you mentaly sighed. Kenma came back caring the bleach, a bowl to put it in, and a towel to protect my clothes. He walked behind me and layed the towel around my neck.

“That towel looks like its been through hell and back,” you said, it was frayed and torn with lightened areas where you could tell bleach had been spilled with some color splotches here and there.

“Still works so I’ll still use it,” Kenma shrugged putting gloves on getting ready to start the dying process. He put some bleach in a bowl and instructed me to lean my head back, then started applying the bleach. ‘To late to turn back now’ you said to yourself.

After applying all the bleach Kenma sat back down taking his gloves off and setting a timer. For the duration of the timer you just sat together and answered questions that popped up in chat and argued over who is the best mario cart character which is of course shy guy. But Kenma would not have that. After the timer had finished you went to go rinse the bleach out. Once you had gone and washed the bleach out and towel dried your hair it was time to put in the actual color. While waiting for the color you guys decided to play Mario cart to prove which character was the best, after a coupe of rounds it was nearing the end of stream so you decided to raise the stakes.

“Hey Kenma,” you sung

“Yes?” he replied knowing you had something planed

“If I win this round you have to dye your hair orange too, if you win I’ll take you to get that new game you wanted,” he grew a devilish grin on his face

“You're gonna regret doing this,”

You won. So a couple hours later it was around 4 am and you both had annoyingly orange hair. Kenma had ended stream saying he would post a picture of his hair on instagram, so now you guys were just lounging on Kenmas sofa.

“I still have no fucking clue how you won that,” kenma sulked

“Because shy guy is superior,” you retorted. Kenma gave you a glare that would have looked way worse if not for his bright fluffy orange hair. “OH,” you shouted with a sudden idea “we need to show this to Shouyou,” Kenma suddenly lit up from his sulky mood

“For once you’re right about something,” you just sighed and opened the snapchat app on your phone. You guys snapped a photo and sent it to Shouyou with the caption ‘triplets’. Shouyou responded so fast he could probably be a world record holder. It was a blurry picture of his face with the caption ‘OMG OMG OMG I’M COMING OVER RIGHT NOW WE NEED TO TAKE PICTURES TOGETHER’

You and Kenma never ended up sleeping instead taking pictures together with all three of you and posting them all over social media per Shouyous request.

[diem-my]

post game headcanon (sakusa kiyoomi)

summary: after the msby vs alders game, you go down onto the court to greet your boyfriend, sakusa kiyoomi. where you also run into your children the chaotic trio

word count: 1k

warning: spoiler for the manga

a/n: hello this is my first headcanon, i wrote it at 3am, it kinda became a shit post, oops? i hope you still enjoy it (��•ᴗ•◍)

~~~~

→ the game just ended and everyone's going down to congratulate the players

→ you step onto the court and you see sakusa in the corner confronted by little kids asking for his autograph

→ he looks like he wants to tell the kids to fuck off because no, he’s not going to touch your pen, who knows where its been

→ but he can’t tho, because that’s fucking rude - also he doesn’t need the kids to burst into tears, that’s just another problem 

→ with a constipated face, he weakly grabs the pen between his thumb and pointer finger and just scribbles out a signature

→ no it does not look anything like his real one but the adorable little kids don’t know that, they look like they won the lottery

→ the kids scattered away to brag to their parents they met the sakusa kiyoomi

→ thinking it’ll be fucking hilarious, you make your voice super high pitched and go “sakusa-senpai, can i please have your autograph?”

→ with his back facing you, you can see the way his shoulders tense up, probably thinking “are you fucking kidding me, another one?”

→ sakusa turns around with the fakest smile only for it to be wiped away and replaced with exasperation

→ you say completely serious “what? i need a side hustle” 

→ arching his brows, completely unimpressed, you burst out laughing 

→ you walk over, grabbing the wipes from your bag and open it for him

→ he picks up the sheet the same way he did the pen, and you have to contain your amusement, looking grateful, he wipes his hands - twice

→ you also hand him a new disposable mask, completely sealed in plastic

→ you’re about to congratulate him on his win, when you hear voices shouting your name 

→ looking over you see your children  the chaotic trio speeding towards you with their arms flapping everywhere

→ hinata and bokuto are running towards you and you can tell they’re about to run you over in excitement (they are unaware of their strength smh)

→ before they can reach you, you put your hand out to stop them 

→ they instantly freeze 4 cm from your hand

→ you give them a look to be patient then turn to your left

→ you raise your eyebrow at sakusa and he shoots you an uninterested glance back

→ but his left hand comes up an inch, and you know you won 

→ rolling your eyes you come closer and wrap your arms around his back, pressing your lips to his heart you whisper “you did amazing omi-a” 

→ you feel his hand wrap a lil tighter around your waist 

→ tilting your head up, you smile at him, letting yourself show just how proud you are

→ his eyes become softer and his mouth opens "-

→ “omg omi has emotions, someone call the press over! the world is ending!” screech's atsumu 

→ and the mood is gone

→ hinata and bokuto quickly look away, trying to hide their laughter

→ you turn around giving atsumu a blank stare and declare “you’re not getting a hug”

→ omi lets go and retreats back into the corner (he would’ve gone to the locker room but coach said it’s rude to leave right away when everyone came out to support the team, minimum 10 mins) ((he’s counting down the seconds))

→ atsumu starts protesting explaining how difficult it is to tease omi and that it was a perfect opportunity that he couldn’t let slip away, trying and failing to get your sympathy 

→ you ignore him and motion for the sunshine duo to come closer, you give each of them a hug, and they go off

“ HEY HEY HEY DID YOU SEE MY SPIKE?! ”

“DID YOU SEE MY LAST SHOT?! I TOTALLY MADE UGLY KAGEYAMA CRY! -”

“you didn’t make him cry” mutter omi

“I FINALLY BEAT HIM TOO! ARE YOU PROUD OF ME?!”

→ they are looking at you with twinkling eyes and their fist shaking in excitement as they recount their tales (they look like adorable puppies)

“YOU WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO DO ANY OF THAT WITHOUT ME SETTING IT YOU DUMBASS!” a dejected atsumu yells says - being without attention for a while has made his hair flat you notice

→ you pat the duo lovingly on the cheek and say warmly that yes you did see and that you were super impressed and proud 

→ atsumu is looking like he’s about 2 seconds away from a tantrum, you decide you’ve tortured him enough 

“you know what to say atsumu” you say seriously, although you’re laughing on the inside

“...sorry omi…” he mumbles

→ you can hear omi cackling behind you before he slips away, its probably been 10 mins

→ you pull atsumu into a hug and tell him his setting was also amazing

→ as you pull away, you see his hair has come back to life 

→ puffing his chest out he declares confidently “of course i was, when am i not?”

“i thought she was talking about your setting?” mumbles a confused hinata 

→ the trio now look like overjoyed puppies who had too much sugar

→ a staff comes over and informs bokuto that he’s gonna be late for an interview

→ you say your goodbyes, not become promising to come to their next game

→ about to walk away and find omi, you hear atsumu manipulating talking hinata into asking you something (he knows everyone has a soft spot for hinata)

“wait umm do you - if you are free of course,  do you think you could maybe.. make some more of those rice balls?” a careful hinata murmurs 

→ he look so sincere, how can anyone say no (probably if you’re tsukki or kageyama)

“of c-” “no she can’t” interjects omi

→ rolling your eyes, you wave your goodbyes again as you walk towards omi, who’s already dressed and ready to leave (probably rushed so he could get back to his place as fast as possible and wash up)

→ as you two walk away, you hold your hand out and you feel the hand sanitizer drip onto it

→ rubbing your hands together, you inform omi “you’re the one who said they get hungry too quickly during practice”

“i wasn’t asking you to make them food,” retorts omi, "you spoil them too much" he adds

→ grabbing your mask from your bag, slipping it on, “sure you weren’t omi, sure you weren’t”

→ as you guys make your way out, you feel his hand brush against yours, a soft smile creeps onto your face, hidden by your mask

→ for all his indifference and leak of emotions (sumu’s words) omi has his own way of showing his affection

→ you intertwine your pinkies under the night sky, and disappear into the crowd 

[collecting-stories]

3am Friend - c. 01 - Topper Thornton

Summary: Topper and y/n have been in a “friends with benefits” relationship since September but the line between friendship and something more are already starting to blur. 

A/N: This is basically four chapters: Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer. Also it’s going to be a bit of a practice run at writing more smut for me lol. Also it’s smut like, right under the cut lol. 

Sophomore Year Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

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What were you doing with your life...

You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle a moan as Topper’s tongue pressed against your clit, the cold tiled wall of the shower stall pressing into your back had your skin erupting in goosebumps, a contrast to the almost burning water that was hitting you. It was futile to bother concealing whatever noises Topper managed to pull out of you, the curtains of the shower stalls did little to shield their occupants from the rest of the communal bathroom, the plastic more often than not creating the perfect outline of whoever decided to use the showers. There would be no mistaking you, pressed against the wall, one leg tossed over Topper’s shoulder, his own figure silhouetted, kneeling in front of you with his hands digging into your hips.  

If anyone did find you there was a 90% chance that they weren’t just going to let you off with a ‘sorry for intruding while some guy eats you out in the shower’ but any concern you actually had about the consequences of your hookup had died the minute Topper had joined you in the shower stall. Technically he’d texted you to come over to his dorm, he lived right off the main campus, close to your building, in a still operational fraternity house. He split a room with some guy who liked to stare but never actually talk when you came around. Yours was not a relationship of anything substantial. You’d hooked up with Topper at a party and exchanged numbers and, two days later, responded to a very obvious booty call at one in the morning.  

“Holy shit!” You cursed, your voice coming out an octave higher than usual, fingers gripping Topper’s short blond hair. You could feel every muscle in your body tense as you tried to keep yourself upright, your other hand grabbing hold of the dial on the faucet in a desperate attempt to not completely fall apart as Topper sucked on your clit. He had moved one of his hands at some point, middle finger now moving rhythmically in and out of your entrance, working you through an orgasm.  

When you came down, your muscles relaxing and you pushing back against the wall to keep yourself steady, leg slipping off Topper’s shoulder, he stood up. He caged you in almost immediately, moving as close as possible in the stall and kissing you, the salty taste of cum still there on his mouth. “That pad really comes in handy,” he teased, referring to the silicone mat you’d bought two weeks earlier to scrub your feet without trying to do a yoga pose in the shower.  

You hummed, “I’ll leave that in my review on Amazon. Great for not bruising your knees.” When he kissed you again you smiled, eyes fluttering closed for a split second. This was the worst part. The part when you ran out of things to say and he would untangle himself from your arms and leave, promise to text you later.  

It was the thing that your roommate had warned you about in the beginning that you had ignored.  

“That’s like, not even friends with benefits though.” She had admonished when you told her for the first time that you had started this bizarre relationship with Topper. “I mean, you’re literally having casual sex with some rando guy that you hooked up with at a party. At a frat party. Do you even fucking know anything about him?”

“I know his name,” you had replied, rummaging through your closet to find something to wear to class, “and his phone number so I can booty call him.”

“Brilliant.” She snapped, “he could be some fucking weirdo axe murderer preying on college girls.”  

You rolled your eyes, “he’s the same age as us.” You had never been one for casual sex in your life until this point and you weren’t sure why it seemed enticing now but you wanted to branch out a little. You’d gotten your first boyfriend in ninth and you’d stuck with him until August of this, your sophomore year of college. He broke up with you, claiming the distance between your school and his was too much for him to deal with.  

It was your roommate that had dragged you to the party at the fraternity house, claiming that it would get your mood up after the guy you’d been with for the last five years decided he couldn’t do the 2 hour commute between your school and his. Three shots of tequila later and the blond you couldn’t take your eyes off of asking if you wanted to ‘go somewhere quiet’ were all the motivation you needed to put the past behind you and stop groveling over a guy who wasn’t even there.  

Still, the fact remained, even now as Topper put his hands on your hips, looking at you through the mirror and kissing the back of your head, you knew that casual sex was not your forte. Not simply because you had never done it before but because you found yourself craving those small, just after when the bubble had broken yet and there was still some lingering affection, moments as much as you craved the sex. But you had both agreed, casual. Something to take your mind off school for a few hours, a stress relief. For you it was more than that. You’d never been the most confident when it came to sex or your body, all that self-love/self-care crap was wasted on you and your gnawing insecurities. Having casual sex was like constantly challenging yourself to be your most exposed and most intimate with someone who was still relatively a stranger to you.  

“You know I think it was technically supposed to be my turn,” you mentioned, running the wide-toothed comb through your hair. You should’ve detangled in the shower except that wasn’t really top priority. What would you even say, ‘oh, would you mind not eating me out for a second so I can brush my hair’…you’d live with the awkward waves that dried in.  

“I thought we switched.” Topper shrugged, pulling his sweatpants back on. His shirt went over his head and you involuntarily pouted at the mirror, there went the view.  

“No, I said…this doesn’t technically count.” You replied, referring to the party three nights earlier and the head you’d given to avoid having actual sex on your period. You were at the tail end and you’d contemplated not going to the frat house at all but changed your mind at the last moment.  

“Hey, if you’re offering, I’m not gonna turn you down.” He joked.  

You turned to look at him, the mirror not sufficing as you stuck your tongue out playfully. “I have a test tomorrow, I have to study.”  

“Come over, you can study in my room. We’ll hang out.”  

“We are incapable of hanging out Topper.” You replied, grabbing your shower caddy and heading for the door. He walked right out after you, both of you ignoring the rather appreciative stare of one of the other girls on your floor.  

“Not true,” he’d suffered a nasty break-up in high school that he gave no more background to other than to say she had cheated on him extensively. Casual seemed to be the best he could allow himself to do though you weren’t sleeping with anyone else and, as far as you knew, neither was he.  

Your roommate looked up from her desk, rolling her eyes at the sight of Topper following you into your dorm. In the beginning of September, when this first started, it felt like you only ever disappeared at night. You saw Topper when he texted you and you might smile in the café but you never actively sought each other out. Now it was creeping toward November though, with Halloween right around the corner, and Topper felt like an accessory. He was always right there wherever you were, not that you were complaining. To anyone on the outside you looked like a couple but you both maintained the friends with benefits story.  

“Oh look who it is.” Almost two whole months of him and your roommate still greeted Topper with a disdainful glare. She was fervent in her belief that the guy you thought was damn near perfect (if only he’d actually date you) was hiding some deep-seated flaw.  

“Hey G,” Topper greeted, taking a seat on your bed as if he couldn’t tell just how annoyed your roommate was.  

-

Geena and you had been thrown together after enduring a freshman year from hell. Her roommate from the year prior had been awful, like caging yourself in with some 00’s mean girl who only found satisfaction in watching you suffer. Your own freshman roommate had been neurotic about the dorm and constantly scrutinized whether your cleaning methods were sufficient. Geena was a blessing, you got along well, hung out all the time, had become fast friends in the short time since the beginning of the semester. Topper was the only thing you didn’t agree on. She thought it was unhealthy, that it would only lead to heartbreak.  

“You can’t have casual sex with a guy for three years…people already think you’re dating. Some girl I don’t even know asked me if I could get her into a Phi Sig party next week cause my roomie is dating one of the guys.” There was a new reason almost daily with Geena, like she tore away a new page on the calendar and it offered up cons to your relationship with Topper in lieu of a word for the day.  

“I can ask for her.”  

“Oh my god, that is not the point.” She snapped.  

You sighed, “I don’t really care if people think we’re dating.”

“Why?” She asked the question so smugly you already knew where she was going with this. And you knew why it didn’t bother you that people thought you were dating, why you sometimes even fanned that flame.  

“G-“

“No, tell me why? People usually keep that shit quiet so they can hook-up with other people too. So why don’t you care?”  

“Because if people think we’re dating…they won’t try to date him.” You shrugged, practically mumbling the last part. You hated that she knew that off the bat, that she could tell that you liked him so much in such a short span of time. And you knew she had a point to all her antagonizing. You had been in too deep since two weeks into September when he told you that you looked pretty in something your ex always said made you look fat.  

-

You held the seam of your towel shut as you rummaged through the set of plastic drawers underneath your bed. Geena had done the bed on risers thing for optimal storage and you had followed along, semi grateful for the added space since both of you seemed inclined to transport your entire bedroom with you. Topper’s foot nudged your side as you got closer to him and you looked up, matching his smile when you caught him staring at you. You were sure Geena was sitting behind you rolling her eyes.  

“Guess I’ll go grab something to eat.” She announced, as if your very presence had worn her down.  

“I’m just getting changed, I think we’re heading over to Topper’s.” You replied, looking back over your shoulder at her.  

Geena scrunched her nose and stood up anyway, “still would rather not be here while you got dressed so I don’t have to pretend like I can’t see this one leering at you.” She shot Topper a look of contempt as she passed. If it was real, if he asked you out and he was really, actually, your boyfriend, Geena was positive she’d have no problems with him. He seemed like alright and he certainly made you happier and more confident than she’d seen you in the beginning of the year. But she hated the thought of you getting hurt and didn’t want to be just sitting on the sidelines watching it happen.

“I don’t leer.” He joked, turning back to you once she was out the door, “I don’t leer.”

You didn’t answer, instead grabbing your underwear out of the top drawer and pulling them on once the door was shut. The first time you had ever gotten dressed with Topper around you’d made sure that you were obscured from view, still too bashful and self-conscious of the way that you looked without clothes on. There was still that split second moment when you doubted yourself, when you thought about maneuvering your towel to hide your body from view, as if after two months Topper might suddenly look at you and decide he didn’t like the softness of your stomach or the width of your hips or any other imperfection you could find.  

You pushed through the voice though, dropping your towel and getting dressed. When you reached for the bralette your tossed on the bed beside him you realized he was looking at you. “G might have a point, maybe I should turn around.” You teased, his eyes snapping up to meet yours.  

“I’m admiring the view.” Topper replied, not at all embarrassed at being caught.  

You rolled your eyes, pulling your bralette on and adjusting your boobs until it sat right. “I don’t even know why I’m putting this on,” you mentioned, grabbing his sweatshirt to pull on over it, “I should just stop wearing underwear to your room and then I won’t ever lose it.”  

“You lose stuff? Whose wearing my hoodie right now?” He asked, grabbing the edge of the hood to pull you closer to him.  

“Your room has swallowed three of my bras...the nice ones too. Or Will like, took them.” You said.  

If there was some kind of formal set of rules that you and Topper had ever thought to draft, kissing outside of actually having sex with each other should have qualified as a major no. But nothing of the sort had ever been discussed and now, Topper leaned over, stealing a quick kiss before he got off your bed. Maybe now didn’t count as a ‘just friends’ moment though since technically you were heading back to his room, presumably to have sex. To finish what he’d started when he showed up seconds before you got a shower.  

“What would Will need your bras for?”

“To masturbate over? Who knows...all I’m saying is, I wear bras to your room, I never seem to leave with them.” You replied.  

“I promise I will find all your missing bras today, okay?” He grabbed your lanyard off the hook, keys and wallet all in one place, pulling the door open for you. “Wanna grab pizza later?”  

You chewed on your bottom lip, waiting a beat to answer him. Grabbing pizza meant, inevitably, hanging out after. Becoming friends was unavoidable, there was no way that either of you could have navigated sleeping together without some sort of relationship forming. So far it was only friendship, or at least that was all either of you were willing to let it be. Anything more than that meant an actual romantic relationship forming, something you wanted but were determined not to let yourself even entertain the idea of.  

“Fine but not from that place by Barnaby's.” You replied, pushing the door open and stepping out into the quad with him. The local bar was always teeming with college students and the last thing you wanted was someone recognizing Topper, because everyone always seemed to recognize Topper, and invite the two of you in.  

“We’ll just get it delivered.” He shrugged.  

The first time you met Topper, enough to tequila to not make you totally embarrassed as you danced with Geena in the main room of the Phi Sig frat house, you had laughed when he told you his name. It was a combination of the heels you borrowed from another girl on your floor and the alcohol that had you losing your footing, catching yourself in time not to smash your whole body into a coffee table, and landing on the couch beside Topper. He was taking a sip of beer and looked relatively startled when some almost drunk girl fell into the spot next to him.  

“Sorry!” You’d shouted over the bass as you tried to undo the straps of the heels that you were sure were also guilty of twisting your ankle.  

When he introduced himself two sentences later, “I’m Topper” you couldn’t resist a good dad-joke and smiled at him, “but I hardly know her!”

“Amazing.” He had been less amused by the joke than you were though he didn’t really seem bothered by it, at least not bothered enough to move on because he stayed on the couch for three more turns of the conversation before asking if you wanted to talk elsewhere. You were sober enough to know exactly what he meant and obliged because you were still kinda pissed at your ex and you didn’t want this year to pass the same as last year had, with nothing but school work to show as a passing of time.  

At least you’d have a good story to tell.  

Highschool you had a healthy apprehension of frat houses and the people who lived in them. You’d seen enough episodes of CSI, Law and Order, Veronica Mars, and any other crime show that existed in the early 00’s to know that frat houses were breeding grounds for terrible things. Your parents had even attempted to sway you from going to your first-choice college simply because the greeks still existed on campus. You could only imagine what they’d think now, knowing that you had spent more time in Topper’s room than you had in your own in the last month at least.  

Frat houses might’ve been sordid in your mind but so far, your reality of this one was exactly what it looked like on the surface, a bunch of guys living together with limited supervision. You still stuck to Topper whenever you were inside but you’d never had a problem with anyone in there and you rightly assumed that most of them just figured you were his girlfriend.  

“Will told me he wants that TA position next year, with Prof Berkley.” You mentioned, flopping back onto Topper’s bed and tilting your head so you could look over to the empty other side of the room that belonged to his roommate. Aside from staring at you too much and possibly stealing your bras, you still had a hunch that Topper was just messing with you and had them stashed away somewhere, Will was alright. You were both in the same area of study, pre-law, and he had told you days earlier that he was gunning for the same TA position with your advisor as you were.  

“I don’t know anything about it.” Topper replied, kicking his slides off and climbing onto his bed with you. The countdown in your head started now, hopefully soon you would be naked.  

“Yes, you do because I literally told you about it at breakfast.” You pointed out. He’d texted you that morning to get coffee with him and you ignored Geena when she told you that sex-friends don’t get coffee together. “I said I was applying for the TA spot because it’s a massive opportunity.”  

“Sounds like something I don’t have an opinion on.” He said, rolling over so that he could kiss you. “Enough chit-chat.”

“You’ve got a one-track mind Thornton.” You joked, moving your arms above your head as he pulled his sweatshirt off of you.  

“Well can I interest you in getting on that track with me?” He replied, lips brushing over your neck as he spoke. You hadn’t bothered to put on any makeup before you left your dorm, you hadn’t even bothered to dry your hair all the way. But who were you to worry about things like that when Topper was pushing your bralette up over your head.  

You jerked slightly, wriggling around on the bed when the fabric got caught half way up your arms, binding them above your head and covering your face, Topper taking advantage of the moment and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as you arched your back into him. “Topper!” You whined.  

He hummed, pulling away from you to take the bralette the rest of the way off and tossing it off the bed, “sorry, couldn’t resist.” He said, smiling at you as if he truly couldn’t resist. The thought made butterflies erupt in your stomach.  

You didn’t let yourself have the moment though, pulling him in for a kiss the moment he had untangled you, hand on the back of his neck as you ran your tongue against his bottom lip, biting gently as you pulled away. Topper held himself up on one elbow, his other hand pushing passed your sweatpants.  

“Always right down to business,” you teased.  

“What do you want me to take you out first?” He was joking, you knew that, but the way he said almost sounded like he truly would take you out if you wanted him to. But then what would this be, if you had dinner before you hooked up.

“Some foreplay would be nice.” You kept the conversation light, the way you always did, and he laughed.  

“I thought the shower was foreplay.”  

You would’ve answered, thought of something witty to make him laugh again, but he had pushed your underwear to the side, fingers pushing passed your folds to brush your clit. He made the same satisfied hum that he always did when he realized that you were wet, like a quiet pat on the back. His middle finger circled your clit, a barely there shudder of nerves setting off in your stomach as you moaned.  

“I was supposed to,” you managed as he shifted further down the bed and you realized what he was doing.  

“We have plenty of time.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your stomach.  

Topper hadn’t seriously dated anyone since his break-up with Sarah. Kelce told him constantly that he was putting too much on that relationship, as if it was the holy grail by which to rate every other relationship that he had. And maybe he was allowing himself to be too scorned by something that lasted little more than a summer but he couldn’t help it. Topper was nothing if not a hopeless romantic and that had felt like such an idealistic time in his life until it all inevitably crashed around him.  

He tried casual hook-ups before you. A few girls from high school that he knew that made it practically impossible for the casual to still exist alongside the hook-up. College was easier but freshman year had been mostly dedicated to rushing the fraternity that his dad and grandfather and great grandfather had all rushed before him. Then he met you at a party in the beginning of sophomore year and he told himself it was casual but he knew that this was far from it.  

You weren’t anything like Sarah and maybe he had done that on purpose. Specifically slept with someone that didn’t remind him of anyone back home as some way to separate himself from that part of his life. To fully embody the frat boy, jock, life he was trying to live through. He figured it would just be a onetime thing and then maybe a sometime thing but now it was most definitely an all the time thing. Kelce told him that he should just ask you out but Topper felt like he was in too deep already.  

This was supposed to be strictly friends with benefits, if he crossed that line and you said no he would be crushed.  

“Topper,” you moaned, bringing him back to the moment. You shuddered as he pulled his fingers out of you, placing a kiss just below your belly button. When you tugged at the short blond hairs at the back of his head he shifted, letting you lead him back up so that you could kiss him.  

You had told him specifically that it was your turn, as if he really cared about taking turns at all. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You don’t have some fussy girlfriend bitching about giving you head.” Rafe’s colourful comments about the situation had been largely ignored but Topper knew, less crudely, he was right. The whole reason the two of you had started this was for sex of any kind and you had been the one to suggest taking turns.  

“My ex wasn’t very forthcoming with praise. He always told me I was kinda shitty at sucking dick so, maybe it’d be kinda nice to practice.” It’s been a colourful sentiment, one you had felt oddly comfortable sharing with Topper when the two of you first sat in his room discussing the arrangement.  

And while he wholeheartedly disagreed with your ex-boyfriend, Topper just liked being the one to give. He liked that moment when everything overwhelmed you enough that you let go and stopped worrying about if you looked attractive in a certain position or if your thighs were too big or if you had any unwanted rolls. That split second between overthinking and not thinking at all was powerful and Topper liked being the one who caused it. He liked the way you looked in his bed, biting your bottom lip to keep quiet so other guys in the house didn’t hear you. The way your hair tangled just from laying on your back. He could list a million things, every one more obscure, less noticeable, than the last because he felt like when you were around all he could do was pay attention.  

“Hey, quit daydreaming about Hailey Bieber-“ you teased as Topper’s movements slowed down, his lips brushing languidly against your collar like he was in some lethargic trance.  

He squeezed your side, baring his teeth to nip at your neck, scraping them across your skin and making you laugh as you turned your head towards his. That lazy smile you got was there, eyes hooded as you watched him, the moment passed and he leaned in to kiss you again. When he broke away it was only to grab a condom from the box on his dresser.  

Topper pushed your legs apart, settling between them. He slipped one hand beneath your back, guiding it into an arch to bring your chest closer to him, mouth finding one of your breasts. His tongue pressed against your nipple, swirling around it as you dug your nails in the sheets beneath you. He looked up at you, eyes hooded, as he pushed you back down against the bed. “God,” he breathed out, “you’re so fucking gorgeous.”  

You grabbed the back of Topper’s neck, pulling him into a kiss, slower than the ones before, more tender. Your other hand moved down between your bodies, finding his dick, enjoying the way he moaned against your mouth as you guided him in. Despite the orgasm he’d given you in the shower you still felt that stretch as he pushed in, kissing across your jaw and sucking a bruise into the space just behind your ear.  

You would never tell Geena but somewhere between quick hook-ups and longer nights together your ‘just casual sex’ had turned into something else, something far more meaningful though neither of you would acknowledge it.  

Instead you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, Instead, you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, hips snapping against yours. The sound of your panting breath and his grunts filled the room; you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning when Topper’s fingers dipped passed your folds to massage your clit.  

“Oh god, Topper,” you whined, turning your face enough to press your cheek into Topper’s pillow, the faint smell of his cologne hitting your nose. You breathed in, always a fan of the subtle musk.  

“Does that feel good baby?” His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, words barely registering over the sensation of him. You opened your legs a little further, lifting your knee and hooking your leg over his back. The angle seemed to give more depth and his movements picked up speed. His fingers circled your clit faster as he continued to whisper words of encouragement to you. A quiet “come on baby, I know you’re close”.  

“Are you?”  

His comment had seemingly brought you just out of the haze enough to ask him if he was close. You knew you were, he knew you were, and you wanted him to be there too, just on that edge with you. As he pulled out you clenched around him and when he pushed back in it felt deeper than before, that all too familiar groan of satisfaction leaving his lips as you guided him back into a kiss. He didn’t answer your question, instead taking the opportunity to kiss you, tongue working it’s way into your mouth and dragging across your teeth. You found your grip on his hair, tugging hard enough that he jerked his hips in retaliation, hitting so deep you felt yourself go off that edge, his motion become erratic as he followed, smoothing your scream with another kiss, biting your bottom lip as he pulled away.  

There was always a moment of frenzy in the beginning when you first started hooking up. You would rush to grab your clothes, partially because you felt the need to leave when the act was done and partially because you didn’t want him to linger too long on your body. You were a temporary fix for a problem he didn’t feel like dealing with on his own, he wasn’t responsible for making you feel good about yourself. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t obligated to tell you that you were beautiful or lavish any compliment onto you at all, not that your ex had ever been willing to either. You didn’t stay, for the first few weeks you trudged back across the lawn from the frat house, back to the dorms, and snuck in. But things had changed by mid October and what was once a booty call at one in the morning when he couldn’t sleep was now you going over for pizza and a study session that turned into an afternoon spent in his bed.  

“What time is Will back?” You asked, sitting up as Topper came back into the room with two water bottles. There was still that awkward moment just after sex, as if neither of you knew how to leave behind the intimacy of the act and return to normal life. Like you were both waiting for the other to admit that maybe just friends wasn’t really what you wanted at all. So he disappeared downstairs to get water and you pulled your underwear and his sweatshirt back on, leaving the bra somewhere on the floor.  

The empty other side of the room served as a poignant reminder that time alone was only ever temporary.  

“Not sure,” he shrugged, “he’s been talking about some girl on campus that he’s dating. Won’t reveal her name apparently, he’s convinced Fitz will try to fuck with them if he finds out.” His fraternity brothers were not the same as hanging out with Kelce and Rafe every day but they weren’t the worst substitutes for entertainment. Fitz was the head of the house, a senior whose greatest claim to fame was being party to a wildly controversial radio-show that amounted to nothing more than some white guys imitating Rush Limbaugh and the Douche from Parks & Rec. He said dumb shit just to piss people off and had an unappreciated proclivity for trying to ruin any relationship one of his brothers found themselves in.  

Will was always an easy target for him though he’d set his sights on you a few times, assuming like others did, that you and Topper were dating. You had never mentioned it to Topper, Fitz was gross and you were looking forward to his inevitable graduation at the end of May.  

“Fitz totally would,” you replied. Last year you existed on no one’s radar. You hadn’t so much as gotten an offer to go out on a date with someone and yet this year, all because of Topper, you were sure, it felt like everyone in his circle seemed to pay attention to you in some way. “He told me he prank called Will’s mom two weeks ago pretending to be the on campus nurse for a bit on his radio show.”  

Topper looked up from his phone and the pizza he was ordering, frown etched onto his features. “When did you talk to Fitz?”  

“His econ class is right down the hall from my 12:30 poly sci class…he always ‘walks with me across campus’ in case I get mugged apparently.” You laughed, “I think he just does it cause he knows we hang out.”  

“I didn’t know he was talking to you.”  

You shrugged, Fitz had been goading you for weeks but it wasn’t anything that felt harmful. Just some mind-numbingly dumb conversation about parties and girls and his radio show and how hot he apparently thought you were. “It’s not a big deal, if he was bothering me I probably would’ve said something.”  

“Right,” Topper still looked miffed despite having no reason to be. You weren’t interested in Fitz and, even if you were, what say did he have over it. That old familiar feeling crept in though, the one he recognised as the same one that the plagued him after Wheezie told him that Sarah had cheated on the boyfriend before him only to find out that she had cheated on him with John B. When he looked over you were pouting at him, “what?”

“Your room is so cold.” You replied, pulling the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands as if that was an indication of the frigid temperature. The old house lacked insulation in most of the rooms, Topper’s being one of them.  

He rolled his eyes, climbing back into bed with you, the momentary worry subsiding. You weren’t his girlfriend but in that moment, as he pulled the blankets around the two of you, guiding you back down to lay with him under the covers, he could have fooled even himself about the relationship. He held his arm out in front of both of you so that you could see his phone and the menu for the pizza place.  

“I’ve been really in the mood for pepperoni.” You mused, not bothering to look at the screen and opting instead to tuck your face into his bare collar. Your hand slipped down from his chest and Topper grabbed your wrist before you could make it to his briefs.  

“Pizza first,” he said, “you’re already getting sleepy.”  

“It’s cause I’m cold.” You insisted.  

He turned to place a kiss on your forehead, “pizza.” He reminded you again.  

-

Halloween weekend creeped up and, before you knew it, Phi Sig was decorated and advertising a Halloween haunted house party for everyone on campus. Geena was going home on the actual night of to trick or treat with her sister but she agreed to go to the party with you that weekend. She loved a good party and any excuse to dress up.  

When you weren’t spending time with Topper, and sometimes when you were because he had a tendency to hang out just to hang out (the friends side of the benefit), you and Geena marathoned episodes of Supernatural. And it was at  her coaxing that your Halloween costume became an homage to the show and your favorite character. A semi-loosely interpreted Dean Winchester, complete with a flannel over your black tank top and the mark of Cain crafted by Geena using her best fx makeup skills. You wore cut-off jean shorts with your hiking boots, showing off the legs that you were usually self-conscious about. Geena was Cas, sticking a little closer to the actual costume though she made a few alterations.  

“I gotta ask…” Fitz said, coming up to the two of you the moment you were in the door, as if he was the greeting committee.  

“I’m Dean Winchester.” You explained, “G’s Cas.”  

“You dressed like a guy for Halloween?” Fitz clarified. “I was hoping for something that showed a little more…” he made a motion with his hands to indicate that the little more he wanted to see were your boobs.  

“I have the obligatory sexy cat costume but that’s…” you looked passed Fitz’s shoulder, eyes landing on Topper down the hall chatting with some friends, a smile instantly lighting up your face, “that’s for his eyes only.”  

Fitz looked behind him, catching sight of his frat brother and rolling his eyes before turning back to you, “yeah well, if Thornton’s not appreciative then you know where to find me.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed, stepping around him. Geena had broken off already, heading for the keg that had been set up in the corner. When you started down the hall Fitz found someone else to antagonise, leaving you to vie for Topper’s attention, not that it took you much. Just walking up had him breaking his concentration to look at you, the smile automatic. “Hey,” you greeted as he hugged you, keeping his arm around your waist as he brought you into the conversation.  

“Hey, you look great.” He praised, offering you some of his beer. Topper’s costume was best described as JFK yachting in Hyannis. He looked like a preppy New England white boy and you suspected it was all clothing he already owned thrown together differently. There was always that slight air of prep to him though college and a growing collection of hoodies were slowly eating away at that.  

“Thanks, I feel a little out of place,” you joked, noting a girl down the hall that was wearing a mock up of Amanda Seyfried’s bunny costume from Mean Girls. “Though I do have a costume change saved for later.”  

“Oh yeah,” that smile was a full blown mischievous grin and you wondered for a split-second how down he would be to ditch the whole party and take you to his room. “Does it involve these clothes on my floor?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You teased.  

You had been stressing over the purchase of a costume that could’ve been more accurately described as lingerie since it arrived at your dorm a week earlier. Did friends with benefits buy lingerie sets specifically for showing off? You weren’t sure where that one fell on the line but you were positive you were crossing into territory that was reserved for girlfriends. But even with those doubts, just the thought of Topper seeing you in something that was just for him to see you in somehow made you unable to pass up the opportunity.  

Topper groaned, pulling you closer to him so that he could press his forehead into your neck, “baby,” his voice sounded almost close to whining and you ran a hand through his hair. He nipped at your exposed collar before lifting his head again to look at you. “How long am I supposed to wait?”  

“One track mind, I’ve said it before…I’ll say it again.” You laughed, trying not to think about the way this felt so much like a relationship, pulling away from him but taking his hand, “come on, I wanna get a drink.”  

He followed you to the makeshift bar set up by the keg, refilling his beer while you ladled a generous helping of jungle juice into your cup, trying to fish as many sour patch kids as you could to add to it. You were drinking mostly to calm the nerves that were bubbling up. Geena would be gone Halloween night and the whole next day because she didn’t have classes and you were thinking of inviting Topper to stay over. Regardless of the hour or the amount of time you spent together afterward, the post-coital bliss always came to an end and one of you always left the other. Even if you got breakfast the next day there was a stretch of time that existed between the night before and the morning after where you were nothing to each other but bodies.  

“So, Geena’s going home on Halloween, I thought maybe you could come over,” you suggested. That part was a given.  

Topper looked almost confused that you were asking, “yeah, figured we’d end up hanging out anyway.” He replied.  

“Well…” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, “I was thinking, she won’t be back til the next day…like, at night, and I thought, maybe you’d wanna stay over.”  

No. There was a voice in the back of his head, the logical one who knew that crossing the most obvious line, the one where he stayed and you woke up together, was a turning point that he wouldn’t be able to come back from. It was bad enough that he had let this become something that bordered on being a relationship to anyone looking in on it, but letting himself pretend like it was…he wasn’t sure he could come back from that when this all ended.  

“Yeah,” he said, quieting the logical side of his brain, “as long as you wear this ‘something else’ for the duration of my stay.” It might be a bad idea but who was he kidding, he was so far gone he’d accidentally referred to you as his girlfriend when he was on the phone with his mom just the day before.  

That smile returned to your face, the one that was so sly yet excitable at the same time, the perfect juxtaposition of innocence and deviousness, “Well, I was gonna wear nothing but-“  

“Nothing works for me.” Topper replied, using his free hand to hook his fingers through your front belt loop and pulling you toward him so that he could kiss you. Definitely not friends with benefits, but you’d both keep pretending until one of you cracked.  

-

taglist: @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @outerbankspreferences @vintageobx @starkeymemories @princess-of-fandoms @phantompogues @khiaraaa-in-spacee @ilovejjmaybank 

[eggjorp]

Ch2 - Boxers or Briefs?

Main Masterlist

3AM Masterlist

Chapter 1 - Insomnia

Next

Notes: swearing, angst, comedy, 3k

You end up drifting off at around six and wake up to both your alarm blaring at half past eight and your head throbbing with a similar kind of ring. You get out of bed, sighing as you trudge to the bathroom, getting ready for class.

You swap your pyjama bottoms for jeans and throw a hoodie on top, grabbing the bag you carefully packed the night before (one of your few good habits) and a banana you stuff into your mouth as you leave. Once you arrive in class you silently sit next to your group of friends and grab the closest source of caffeine.

“Black coffee? Are you fucking with me? You’re such an old man oh my god!” you exclaim after taking a big gulp of the stolen coffee.

“Yet you’re still happily drinking it? Fuck off that’s mine, you kept me up late I need it!” Doyoung retorts.

“I didn’t do shit actually. If I remember correctly you told me to shut the fuck up and you went to bed. And you ignored me! A lot! I told you, I’m sensitive!” you pout as you hand him back his coffee. During this interaction the rest of your friends sit there in confusion, you don’t bother trying to explain, not enough energy.

“Okay did y’all fuck or what?” Jaehyun asks pointedly, and Johnny tuts at him for his explicitness. Instead of replying you wink at Jaehyun and ignore Doyoung’s disapproving glare. Jaehyun gasps dramatically, “Oh my god y’all really fucked? I thought you guys were like archenemies, but FINALLY!” his words catch the attention of the people sitting around but it doesn’t last long as he offers them his signature charming smile as an apology.

“We didn’t fuck, they texted me at three am and five am, calling me a bum and a poopyhead? They’re actually so immature. How you’re at such a prestigious university I’ll never understand. Perhaps you paid your way in? Fucked the dean of admissions?” he turns to you, quirking his eyebrow.

You give him a smirk, “Darling, you don’t need to worry about how eventful my sex life is. If I were you I’d worry about yours.” you poke, knowing full well Doyoung prioritises his studies over relationships. It is something you admire but you would never tell him that, god no, you would never give him the satisfaction.

“Should I be envious that your grades resemble your sex life? Full of Ds?” he snaps back, and you purse your lips to stop a snort, as you reach down to pull your laptop out of your bag and hide your face.

Before the lecture starts you reach your hand over Jaehyun to grab Doyoung’s coffee once more, finishing it with a quick gulp before smiling sweetly and dropping it into the bin beside you at the end of the row.

“That was uncalled for.” Doyoung’s jaw tenses and he glares at you. If eyes could kill, you would be dead ten times over by now. Nothing new though, you’ve grown immune to his stare considering how many times you’ve fallen victim to it. Annoying Doyoung is the highlight of your day—no, week— and has become part of your routine.

“Guess what?” you lean over the desk and beckon Doyoung to lean over and meet you in the middle. He stares at you blankly, refusing to move, and you roll your eyes, “Your face was uncalled for.” you grin, once more, before returning to your seat and focusing your attention on the start of the lecture.

“For fucks sake, the stubble in my armpits keeps stabbing me. It's so uncomfortable!” you rub at them, hoping to soothe the skin. Johnny laughs and Doyoung rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that’s information we needed to know.”

“Your face isn’t information we needed to know.” you bite back, sticking your tongue out at him,  watching his jaw tense and teeth grinding.

“You know, if you keep grinding your teeth like that, you’re gonna flatten them all. You’re gonna look like an old man with no teeth at the age of 25!” you snort, pointing your finger at him.

“I wouldn’t grind them if you didn’t stress me out so much!” he scoffs.

“I wouldn’t stress you out if you didn’t stress me out!” you immediately return. Johnny is laughing at you both for the entire duration of this conversation and inwardly you congratulate yourself for providing such brilliant entertainment.

“What the fuck do I do?” he asks as you three reach the McDonald’s, “You exist.” you deadpan, ignoring him as you walk past him to get into line. He rolls his eyes for about the twentieth time today and doesn’t respond. Doyoung decides it’s better to ignore you back.

“Johnny, Dongyoung, what do you guys want?” you ask.

“Umm, cheeseburger, fries, strawberry milkshake,” Johnny responds, followed by silence. You look expectantly at Doyoung.

“Hey? You big bum, what do you want?” you ask Doyoung, poking his side. He falters for a second, “Uh, Chicken nuggets, Large.”

You nod and turn to order, “But why?” you look back at him, confused, “Why are you ordering me food?”

This time it’s you who rolls their eyes, “Are you rejecting free food? Okay, I see how it is.”

“No, I’m not! Just wondering...” you ignore and order, telling them to sit down as you wait for your food. Once you return with the food you sit down, drinking your hot chocolate and munching on some chips.

“Yo, have you guys watched the new Pokémon movie yet?” Johnny asks. You shake your head.

“It’s probably gonna be shit. People go for the Pokémon, not the plot.” Doyoung pokes. “The plot is the Pokémon you dumbass,” you respond.

“Regardless of the plot or the Pokémon let’s go watch it!” Johnny suggests excitedly. Reluctantly you all make your way to the cinema, buying a large popcorn to share, and get your tickets for the movie.

“Hey, Doyoung?”

“What?”

“You’re an expired waffle.” The room may be dark, but you don’t need light to know that Doyoung was rolling his eyes.

“You’re a useless paperclip.” he retorts and at this, you gasp “Kim Dongyoung how fucking dare you.”

He smirks and feigns innocence, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You narrow your eyes at him and give his wrist a light slap, “You know exactly what I’m talking about! I used that insult and you said it was dumb and now you’re using it!”

Doyoung slaps your wrist back, “A dumb insult for a dumb person eh?” your mouth is wide open. You’re astounded that he dares give you this attitude, so you do what any normal person does— you grab a handful of popcorn and drop it down his shirt.

This, of course, causes Doyoung to yell and a little girl to stand up from her seat, turn around and say, “Excuse me can you please be quiet?” Doyoung grabs at your hand, still hovering over his shirt and you both politely apologise. Johnny is cracking up, as expected, and Doyoung is boiling with anger. You can practically see the steam tumbling out of his ears and the scowl across his face is clear in the light from the screen.

“You’re helping me get it off!” still with your hand in his grasp he stands up, pulling you along with him, and some popcorn falling to the floor with a crackle.

“What the fuck am I meant to do?” you whisper but he pays you no attention and urges you to walk down the stairs.  The audible crunch of the stray popcorn under your feet after every step makes you wince and Doyoung’s grip on your wrist remains tight. Reluctantly you follow him out of the theatre doors.

“You’re such a fucking child! Now I have popcorn stuck in my boxers, Y/N, my BOXERS!” he frantically pulls on his shirt, trying to rid himself of the small kernels.

“You seem more of a briefs guy to me...” you respond with a cheeky smile, attempting to keep the mood light-hearted.

“You’re going to pay for this!”

“Hey, I bought you McDonald's, didn’t I?”

“That doesn’t give you a free pass to shove popcorn down my shirt! What is it with you, seriously!” his irritation only heightens with your responses, allowing for some harsh words to fall from his mouth.

“Do you have any common sense at all? We’re trying to watch a movie for god’s sake, and you’re just playing around like an immature child! Can you not be sensible for one fucking moment?” you furrow your eyebrows while listening to him berate you.

“Alright there, Mr Kim, maybe you wanna slow down for a second? Go clean yourself up and take a breath.” you try to be the sensible adult he doesn’t think you can be and hold back with further insults.

“Oh great, now I seem like the bad guy,” he says, giving up in trying to rid himself of the popcorn remains.

“Don’t worry, we know in this situation you’re the adult and I’m the child you get to lecture.” You cross your arms and squint at him, struggling to hold in your own irritation.

“Your passive-aggressiveness is really subtle you know!” you take a step closer and tilt your head with a sweet smile, “Well I learnt from the best!”.

His jaw tenses and your eyes quickly flit to it before returning to his, “Seriously, stop grinding your teeth— but you don’t need to take my advice! Who in their right mind would listen to an immature child, right?”

You try to walk past him to go back into the theatre but Doyoung lightly grasps your forearm. “I didn’t mean what I said...”

You turn to look back, faces only centimetres away but eyes filled with spite, “Yes, you did. In your eyes I’m nothing but an irritating child, but you’re right so it’s fine.” you yank your arm away and re-enter the theatre, returning to your seat.

“Everything okay?” Johnny asks.

“Yep. He just got really pissed.”

“Oh, because of the popcorn?” Johnny offers you a sympathetic smile.

“Because I’m apparently immature and dumb and can’t be sensible.” you scoff.

“I mean, you did chuck popcorn down his shirt...”

“And he’s slipped ice down the back of mine? It’s mutual. Or at least I thought it was.” you sigh, frustrated that the day had to turn sour so quickly for no good reason.

You and Johnny end the conversation there, even when Doyoung returns. The extent of any other conversations consisting of the occasional comment about the movie. The movie ends, and you take your time getting up, stretching your limbs and yawning.

“That was actually a decent movie.” Johnny expresses.

“Yeah, it was okay, but I feel like it was more plot twist than plot,” you joke, both boys chuckle and hum in agreement but you pay no attention to Doyoung.

“Let’s go get sushi?” Johnny suggests. You groan in response “I’m a broke bitch and I bought us all McDonald’s earlier! Only if you pay?” you give Johnny a sweet smile, but he responds with a look of pity, “Hoe, I’m broke too...”

After exchanging a knowing look for a few moments, you both turn to Doyoung with that same sweet smile, and he knows exactly what you want.

“Ugh fine, but there’s a cap on how much you can spend!” he groans and begins walking ahead while you and Johnny cheer together.

Johnny links his arms with yours as you follow Doyoung to the restaurant, the time filled with absentminded chatter.

“Alright fellas, I need to go to the toilet, don’t kill each other while I’m away!” both you and your frenemy roll your eyes and ignore him, continuing to eat your meals.

After about thirty seconds Doyoung breaks the silence, “I’m sorry about earlier.” and while you would love to snap back with something rude and witty, you swallow your anger and echo his short apology.

Johnny comes back and, although you still aren’t speaking, he can sense the tension has dissipated and is content with the progress. A few more jokes and beers later you all end up outside of the restaurant, Johnny insisting he’s fine even though he keeps mixing up his home address with a bar nearby and you send him home by taxi, opting for a train as you’re not sure your bank account could take another hit.

As you and Doyoung live relatively close you take the same train home and so are walking to the same train station.

“Uh, can we stop here for a second? I need to get some things.” he pauses outside of a convenience store and you give him a small nod. A few minutes later he remerges with a white carrier bag in his hands.

The pair of you continue walking, breathing in the cold air, and he pulls out an item from the carrier bag, grasping your hand and placing the item in your palm, before closing your fist and giving it a tight squeeze.

“Drink this tea before bed, it’ll make you sleepy, there’s no caffeine.” you chuckle quietly at his gesture and tuck it inside your backpack.

“Why did you get me this?”

“I didn’t want to wake up to your dumb messages calling me a poopyhead,” he complains of fake annoyance.

The corners of your lips turn up slightly and you utter a soft “Thank you,” but that’s all until you get to the train station and make your way onto the train.

The lights are bright compared to the dark sky presented behind the dusty window. A few people are scattered along the carriage, a man in formal wear, a few students, an older woman, and some young men.

A stop in you hear a whisper in your ear,

“Actually, I do wear briefs but they’re all in the wash so I had to resort to boxers,” at first it startles you, not expecting the warm breath, but you smile and turn to look at him. Doyoung tries to suppress a smile and look straight ahead but as you continue to stare at him, laughing quietly, he can’t help but let a few noises escape. He then quickly buries his face in his hands and you both melt into a pile of giggles.

“I can still feel the popcorn scratching my chest,” he says in-between snorts, “You deserved it, to be honest,” you counter,

“You always say I deserved it!”

“That’s because you do!”

Your loud laughter gains the attention of the few people in the carriage and you begin shushing each other, it doesn’t make it any better, but you continue regardless.

A few seconds later Doyoung grabs at your hand and pulls you up, “Our stop!” dragging you along and he runs off the train. It takes you a few seconds to realise what’s happening but you’re already off the train, hearing the beeping signifying the doors are closing only moments before you leapt out. Doyoung stops suddenly and you crash into his side, unprepared for it.

“Woah there!” you grab onto his arm for stability, “I can’t believe we almost missed our stop,”

Doyoung laughs and starts walking towards the exit, “See, I’m so reliable. Unlike someone...”

You roll your eyes, “I almost got smushed by those doors, less reliable more lucky!”

He looks at you with fake offence, a hand on his chest in a mock upset, “You’re just rude that's what you are.”

“You’re just rude, that's what you are.” you imitate him with a high pitched voice, and he narrows his eyes at you before shoving your hand off his arm and speeding his walking up.

“Nooo! Doyoung! Don’t be mad!” he continues to walk away silently, and you speed up to match his tempo. You get to the crossing where you go separate ways, he continues without you and so you get his attention the only way you can.

“WE’LL TAKE THE HIGHWAY TO HEAVEN AND I CAN’T WAIT TO LOVE YOU ALL ALONE—” he runs after you and slams his hands over your mouth to stop your screeching, taking a few steps backwards due to the force of colliding. He lowers his hand slightly to your shoulder and places his other hand on your back to stop you both from falling.

You hold onto his jacket and laugh, and his head hangs low in shame, “I can’t believe you I really can’t. You’re insane, you know that right?” you continue to giggle and just nod in response. He shakes his head, but you can see the corners of his lips turning up, “I should’ve left you on that train when I had the chance.”

“Nooo,” you whine, “You can’t leave ME! I’m your BEST FRIEND!” he gives you a dirty look and you shift your attention to the other students passing by in a group, “Guys! I’m his best friend!” they just chuckle, and one yells “That’s nice!”

You turn back to Doyoung, who is groaning and embarrassed, “You’re not my best friend! We’re enemies, remember?” he widens his eyes and shakes his head at you, “That’s not what you were saying last night...” you trail off. He narrows his eyes again, “Last night you called me a poopy head and I told you to go to sleep...”

“Didn’t say I was your enemy though!”

“Didn’t say you were my best friend though!” he offers you another dirty look and you pout in response.

“Hey, Kim Dongyoung, don’t be mean!”

“I’m not! I’m—”

“BABY YOU A BAD GIRL WATCH YOUR MOUTH—” he pulls at your jacket to try and drag you home, “Shut up you’re gonna wake everyone up!”

You let him drag you, reluctantly, “No I won’t, I’m not even that loud!”

“We’ll take the highway to heaven,” you finish with a sulk.

“I swear to god you’re such a child!” he groans.

“Yeah, but I’m your child.” you retort and he looks at you in confusion,

“I’m not your dad?” you wink in response, knowing full well you’re not making any sense, and he lets go of your jacket, shoving you away, the playful atmosphere quickly being replaced by a cold one. You finally feel the cool breeze of the wind and there’s a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Why do you always do this Doyoung?” you’ve both stopped on the side of the road.

“Do what?” he asks, his expression showing irritation.

“We’re having fun messing about and then you get all cold and icy. Just like at the cinema.” you finally spill what’s been on your mind for a while now.

“I don’t! You put popcorn down my shirt, of course I was gonna react like that— if anything you took it too far!”

“That’s just how we play around is it not? You’ve done plenty of similar things. I honestly thought we were friends who joke around that they hate each other, but I guess not. I guess you really do hate me and you’re just not able to tolerate my bullshit anymore.” he furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t give him the chance.

“Goodbye, Doyoung.” you say before walking away, leaving him standing in the cold.

[imagines-mha]

class 1-B and night routines

Monoma: if monoma doesn’t annoy at least 2 people per night he simply will not sleep. Wears the comfiest pyjamas- like a 100% cotton top and plaid pj bottoms and everyones so fuckin jealous. He tells everyone he has a 16 step self-care routine he does every night but he really just brushes his teeth and then sits on his phone for like 2 hours? Ike what do you GET out of lying??? 

Tetsutetsu: he thinks going to bed after 11pm is criminal. Literally doesn’t understand the cryptidcrew™️ who DONT MF SLEEP. Works out before bed which is 👌🏻👌🏻 OOF. Aw hes the type of friend to make everyone tea and toast and send them asmr videos if they cant sleep i love him. He usually spends his night dancing around with pony and working off all his ENERGY

Kendo: “yall im turning into bed i’m too tired for this shit” “kendo it’s 7pm”

My girl will retire to her room as early as she can (usually with the rest of the girls) and she just RELAXES. Like self-care to the max: paints her nails, watches tv, plans her tomorrow, showers. She’s usually asleep at 10pm and wakes up the next morning full energy I want what she has

Awase: he has the WORST sleep schedule like fr. Literally sits up on tiktok until 3am and he’s just like “oh shit i’m up at 7…” *continues scrolling* like bro GET UR ASS TO BED U HAVE TRAINING AT 6AM. His night routine ain’t anything special- he sleeps in sweats and always keeps his window open (although someone told him about banshees once and now hes lowkey terrified lmao)

Kaibara- the type to fall asleep on the sofa and wake up at 4 in the morning to find tsuburaba in the kitchen eating a full course meal and he just SIGHS and goes up to bed in the worst mood bc why tf are his friends so WEIRD. Likes to watch the stars and edit pictures before he sleeps- its so therapeutic to him and also productive so he’s winning

Rin- he drinks coffee every night after midnight and then goes “oh my fuck shit i just drank coffee why am i like this” like congrats u fuckin dumbass now u ain’t gonna sleep. And he never fuckin learns. Always does his hw at like 11pm, Also stays up way too late binge-watching star wars smh 

Tsuburaba: he gets up every night and treats himself to a three-course meal in the kitchen no cap no sound awareness my man will be blending shit full blast at 2 in the morning. Usually falls asleep sitting at the kitchen table and he 👏🏻 needs 👏🏻 a 👏🏻 chiropractor 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻. Also always forgets to do his homework until everyone’s packing up to go to bed and hes like “please,, anyone,, the math?”. Shoda wants to punch him so bad

Ibara: the most well-structured person in the entire building. At 7pm she has her shower, at 8:30pm she goes to pray, at 9:30pm she journals and draws to calm her mind, and at 10pm she meditates until she falls asleep- which is usually 10:20pm.. Everyone wants her self control and independance like damn how does she FUNCTION. Also queen of vegan self-care remedies 

Pony: girl is chaotic as fuck it’ll be like 10pm and rin’s like “yo pony can i copy the hw??” And shes like “WHAT HOMEWORK.” . *cue two idiots freaking tf out*. She’s always wearing matching pj sets and fluffy socks and loves sliding around in them like a dork. Dances every night before bed to tire herself out like shes just in the lounge deadass vibing to taylor swift and a new person joins her everytime . people would be dead without her

Kodai: movies every night or she won’t go to class the next morning. Shes always just sitting on her phone w earphones in like she has absoloutely no time to deal with monoma’s shit so she just peaces tf out of existence. Cutest pyjamas ever i love her pyjama queen. The go-to girl for homework she just leaves her bag open, as long as u return it shes cool

Tokage: oh my god shes so CRYPTIC and FOR WHAT. Pranks pranks pranks pranks pranks. everyone hates her for it and she loves it so bad. Like she has the balls to prank kamakiri and that TAKES BALLS LET ME JUST SAY . she’ll just leave her body parts in people’s beds and its SO annoying. They usually just pick up her stray arm and fling it at the wall in revenge then act confused the next morning when she complains abt the bruises 

Komori: cryptic as fuck. Does she sleep? Why is she always sitting at the table? What is she doing? . Closes her tabs whenever someone comes into the dining room and just stares at them til they leave again like :)). In the garden every night til she can’t bear the coldness- watches the stars and makes flower crowns and worships the moon i love her

Kuroiro: nighttime is the time he just evaporates like where tf is he like 🙄🙄 reel it in randy from monsters inc . Hiding in the walls and listening to everyones conversations and secrets is his only skill in life . Everyone thinks he doesn’t sleep and just wanders around (he does, he just likes to have an edgy reputation)

Kamakiri- did you hear that?? oh its just kamakiri fistfighting monoma in the hallway again. Fr takes no prisoners he needs his beauty sleep (or idk do bugs sleep lmao??). If you’re in his way while he’s RAMPAGING to his room youre dead bro when i say he takes bedtime routines seriously i MEAN it. He does self-care and tells NOONE but its lowkey cute idk lmao why do i have a crush on a bug lemme call my therapist real quick

Bondo- 9pm. Wind down time. A good book is all my mans needs and he’ll be out for the count in absolutely no time at all. Fukidashi will die jealous and bondo fucking loves it. Milks tf out of it too he’s like YAWN I AM SO TIRED OFF TO BED NOW TO SLEEP PEACEFULLY GOODNIGHT and everyone who WISHES they could sleep as early as that wants him to choke

Manga- king of never having hw done until 1am at the earliest 🤡. He lives on 1 hour sleep most nights and his speech bubble just says “no <3” until like 11am. Its cus of his crippling hyperactivity he’s running the halls at 3am practicing the entire mamma mia choreography ffs fukidashi U HAVE A CAREER AHEAD OF U 

Reiko: energy drink addiction 101 if she doesn’t drink monster every night before bed she’s convinced she’ll die. “I sleep all day and party all night” she says, crying over math hw at 2am. Plays music too loud and has LED strobelites on ALL NIGHT. Shes deadass doing witchcraft in the lounge w komori all night during finals week she doesnt give a single fuck x

Shishida: another reader,, mans will finish an entire book in a night by the force of sheer willpower alone. Takes a bath every night and it makes his fur so fluffy and smell like apples smdnwjdnwd. Perfect snuggle buddy for wintertimes (pony LOVES HIM) and he’s that good man who carries tsuburaba to bed when he falls asleep at the kitchen table

Shoda: “please don’t speak to me while im doing my homework im 👌🏻 this close to having a mental breakdown and all it takes is a single poke to reel me over the edge.” Complains all day about being tired then goes to bed at 2am?? Like no shit ofc ur tired bitch . Always up for a deep talk at night he knows EVERYTHING abt EVERYONE and hes so trustworthy hed never tell a soul

Honenuki: he meal preps and does yoga before bed 🤢 like WHO HAS THAT MOTIVATION. Irons and sets his uniform out for the next day before getting his homework FINISHED by 9pm . He’s pretty flexible w what he does at nights it 100% depends on his mood. Usually he’s helping Tokage with pranks or working out w tetsutetsu tho. Used to annoy people who were up doing hw after 11 like “really tsuburaba? You should be ashamed”. Shoda almost DECKED him once for it tho and he was #traumatised and never did it again

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 17

cruel summer masterlist

AN: 17 is my lucky number, but it is not Rowan’s. Sorry this thing is still hurting some of you. I think it’s still going to end up about 25 chapters, so... we’re moving forward. I swear! Okay, byeee.

Thump.

Rowan wakes up, unsettled by a loud noise coming from the living room.

“Shhh…” A loud whisper hushes. “My roommate is sleeping,” Manon slurs, followed by excessive giggling.

He looks at the clock. Just past 3AM. Rowan frowns. This is not what the needs right now.  

Another thump followed by an “Ow!” and more giggles wakes him up entirely.

Another too loud shush as he hears two bodies stumble towards Manon’s bedroom, laughter trailing after them the whole way.

Manon’s door slams shut, and Rowan tries to close his eyes and fall back asleep. But soon soft moaning begins. Rowan rubs his hand over his face and cringes. He is so not in the mood for this. He just wants to sleep and temporarily forget about all his troubles. Is that too much to ask for?

He usually sleeps through Manon’s exploits. But not tonight. The moans are interlaced with profanities and the sound of thumping against the wall. The moans reach a crescendo, and Rowan has never been so insanely grateful for people to orgasm and go to sleep. But, minutes later, the moaning starts again.

Rowan puts his pillow over his head, trying to block out the noise, but he’s too attuned to it. He hears every sigh and whisper and expletive, and his entire body is on alert, far too anxious to fall asleep. He stays awake until the wee hours of the morning when Manon and her paramour finally settle down.

Rowan’s alarm goes off far too soon, much to his dismay. His head throbs with the lack of sleep, and his hand itches beneath his bandage. He knows he’s in for a rough day – and not just because of the event that’s going to happen tonight that he definitely doesn’t want to think about yet.

As he gets ready, he’s shocked to hear movement out in the kitchen. He’s so tired, he can’t imagine anyone else being voluntarily awake right now. He peeks out of his bedroom to see Manon, in her robe, making coffee. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and she’s humming lightly. She smiles like the cat who ate the canary, and Rowan shudders. Smiles look terrifying on her.

“You look like crap again,” Manon says, sipping from her large red mug, eyebrows raised. “Want to tell me what happened last night?” She points to his injured hand.

“Not really,” Rowan says, reaching for the coffee pot himself, but Manon slaps his hand away.

“I’m making that for my guest,” she hisses, narrowing her golden eyes at him.

Rowan ignores her and pours himself a mug. “You and your guest kept me up all night, so I’m going to need some caffeine to make it through today.”

Rowan is dreading today. He really wishes he’d at least been able to sleep.  

“Sorry,” Manon apologizes, though she sounds anything but.

“Hey, babe,” a warm voice calls sleepily. “I thought I heard noise out here.”

The woman who exits Manon’s room is absolutely stunning – she wears one of Manon’s tank tops and a pair of underwear, showing off the expanse of her dark skin, swirling with intricate art. Long dark braids fade to pink and fall down her back, making her look just as effortlessly cool as Manon. Her rich brown eyes flick to Rowan in surprise and she waves timidly.

Manon simply pulls the woman into her side and kisses her cheek. “Nimi, this is Rowan, my roommate. Rowan, this is Nehemia. We met on the yacht last night. You know, after you weirdly bailed.”

Manon is clearly asking Rowan to explain himself, but he’s in far too grumpy to attempt that.

Nehemia holds out her hand, and Rowan shakes it. “You can call me Nimi,” she clarifies, her accent rounding out the sharp vowels of her name. “Like Mimi, but with an N.” She smiles at Rowan, and he’s again awestruck by how beautiful she is. He’s constantly impressed by the caliber of girls Manon brings home, but Nehemia is a step above and beyond. Despite being exhausted, Rowan returns her smile in earnest. He guesses Manon deserves a night of fun, too, despite his own drama.

“I’m going to be late for work,” Rowan grumbles, looking at the time.

“This is my surprised face,” Manon deadpans, making Nehemia giggle that same giggle that Rowan heard over and over last night.

Rowan wishes them goodbye, and as he closes the door he hears Manon laugh. “Thank gods. I want to hear you scream for me.”

Rowan flees the premises faster, not wanting to even imagine the volume they’re about to reach. Also, he has to desire to be around happily coupled people right now.

He’s never been so glad to go to work. At least at the park, he’ll be distracted all day and around other miserable people.

Except for some reason, everyone at the park is having their best day ever. Even Lorcan, who usually skulks around the ground with a permanent scowl is buoyant and grinning as he hands out tickets with Rowan at the front booth.

He finds out why during his lunch break when Lorcan tentatively approaches Elide and asks if the steak house is okay for dinner tonight, to which Elide readily nods, leaving the pair nervously smiling and blushing at each other.

Gods, does everyone have a date tonight, Rowan wonders to himself. What was in those cocktails last night? Some sort of aphrodisiac?

Rowan pulls out his phone, notably devoid of text notifications, and wonders if he should reach out to Aelin. He wants her to be thinking about him during her date. He knows that’s selfish and stupid and totally the opposite of what he asked for, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t trust Sam at all, and something plagues Rowan’s stomach; that Sam will be in Aelin’s life long after he leaves it. The thought makes him nauseous.

He sits, picking at his lunch, but unable to really eat. Elide takes the seat next to him and gives him a small smile.

“How’s the hand doing?” she asks, pointing to the bandage still wrapped around Rowan’s palm. He shrugs. “You were missed last night,” Elide says, her tone insinuating much more than her plain words.

Rowan chuckles softly and looks at Lorcan, who is staring at the back of Elide’s head. “Yeah, what the hell happened after I left? I got woken up by…uh…company.”

Elide laughs back. “Oh man, isn’t Nimi so cool? She’s a friend of Dorian’s.” Her eyes glaze over, as if she’s playing the night back across her memory. “Basically, we decided to get sloshed and be each other’s wingmen.”

“It seems like you were all successful,” Rowan says, stabbing a piece of his cold chicken. Elide smiles and looks over her shoulder at Lorcan, who immediately looks down at being caught staring. “So, how’d that happen?” Rowan asks, curious about his two managers. “When I left Lorcan was not at the party…”

“Manon told me to stop being a coward – except, she used a much crasser word that I don’t like saying out loud.” Elide scrunches her nose. “So, I showed up drunk on Lorcan’s doorstep.”

Rowan’s jaw drops. “You did what?”

“Shut up. I know.” Elide covers her face. “I’ve never done anything like that in my entire life.”

“So, what happened?” Rowan asks, leaning forward. This gossip is the best kind of distraction for his aching heart.

Elide looks through her fingers, embarrassed. “He put me to bed in his bed and slept on the couch.” She snorts. “And then this morning I got really mad at him for not making a move, and he said that he would never take advantage of a drunk woman.” She smiles softly. “And that he insisted on taking me out first.” Elide takes a large sip of her drink and frowns. “Gods, I’m sorry. You didn’t need all those details. I haven’t even told Aelin yet.”

Rowan clears his throat, unsure if he should ask what he’s going to, but he can’t stop himself. “And did Aelin meet anyone new?”

Elide furrows her brows and frowns. “No. I assumed she went to go meet you?” Elide says. “She left the party with her parents shortly after you did.”

“Oh.” Rowan isn’t sure what to make of that detail. He stabs another bite of chicken.

Elide starts to say something and then pauses, and then starts again. And then pauses. Rowan rolls his eyes in frustration. “Just spit it out.”

“You should just tell her,” Elide says. Rowan raises an eyebrow at the petite brunette. “That it’s not casual for you.” Rowan swallows thickly but shakes his head and scoffs. Elide continues. “I’m just saying it as a person who wishes someone had told me to stop being a…” she lowers her voice to the softest whisper, “pussy.” Rowan cracks a small smile. “…sooner.

“I’ll take that into consideration.”

Rowan nods as Elide heads off, left with his head spinning around.

He takes his phone back out and stares at it. He hates the way he left things with Aelin last night. But what is he supposed to text her? Best wishes on your date tonight? No. He can’t say anything. He has to just suffer through this hellish day and hope she wants to talk to him after. The longer he goes without hearing from her, the more he realizes that he doesn’t think he’ll recover if she doesn’t want to see him again. He’s an addict, in dire need of his next hit. He only hopes he didn’t fuck everything up. He’ll keep all his thoughts to himself for the rest of the summer, as long as it means he gets to continue seeing her.

Rowan’s mood worsens in the afternoon. With every minute it gets closer to 8pm, he pictures Aelin getting ready in a fancy dress and doing her hair and applying makeup. For someone else. He thinks of Sam’s disgusting comments from the boat and aggressively rips a ticket in two. His frown scares a little boy making his way onto the carousel, as he skitters quickly past an incredibly grumpy Rowan.

He wonders where Sam is taking her. Probably another fancy restaurant. Dimly lit and romantic. He can’t stand the thought.

By the time the day ends, everyone has learned to avoid Rowan. Even Fenrys, whose smile can always cheer him up, gives Rowan a wide berth in the employee breakroom after he practically growls at him. Fenrys had no idea what he was asking when he asked what Rowan was up to tonight, but he knows he’ll never unleash that beast again. Rowan has no idea how he’s going to distract himself tonight. He’s all out of whiskey.

On his way home, Rowan calls his mom. It’s been a while since he’s done more than text her, and he’s relieved when she answers the phone, despite the late hour.

She can tell Rowan is in a foul mood nearly immediately.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” she asks, and Rowan groans.

“I just got no sleep last night. I’m sorry,” he apologizes, wishing he could be more cheerful for his mom, who he loves so much. She seems unfazed by his crabbiness, though.

“I was going to keep it a surprise, but there’s a present in the mail for you,” Dora says.

“What?” Why?” he asks, shocked.

“Because I saw it, and I knew you needed it. Don’t argue with me.” Her tone is resolute. “Just say thank you.”

“Thank you, ma,” he says, his mood lifting slightly.

“You’re welcome, Ro,” she says with a yawn. “Get some sleep tonight.”

She kisses loudly into the receiver, and Rowan can’t help but smile. Maybe he can get through tonight after all.

When Rowan arrives home, he cracks opens his front door, unsure if Manon and Nimi are still going to be at it, but luckily Manon is alone, lounging on the couch, watching TV. He nods hello.

Manon gestures to his room. “Something came for you while you were at work. I put it in your room.”

Rowan finally smiles, excited to see what his mom sent him. But when he opens his bedroom door, he’s shocked to see not a package on his bed, but Aelin, curled up with her arms wrapped around herself, cheeks stained black with remnants of watery mascara, and turquoise eyes staring vacantly into the distance.

“Aelin?” Rowan rushes to her side, perching himself on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing here?” He pauses, but she still doesn’t answer. “Are you okay?” he asks, though the answer is incredibly obvious.

Tears spill from her eyes onto his pillow as she shakes her head and sniffles loudly. Rowan looks her over. She looks so small, knees tucked into her chest. He takes in her dress, now wrinkled and crumpled from laying on her side. He tentatively touches her bare shoulder, and she startles beneath his touch, jolting slightly, and Rowan narrows his eyes.

“Did…” He swallows nervously. “Did he… hurt you?”

Aelin shakes her head again, and Rowan releases a shaky breath. Thank gods for small favors.

“Aelin,” he pleads as he watches her helpelessly. “You have to tell me what happened. You’re scaring me.”

“I d-didn’t g-go,” she mumbles, so quietly that Rowan isn’t quite sure he heard her right.

She pushes herself upright, tears still dripping down her cheeks. “I g-got in-to a hug-ge f-fight with m-my mom,” she stutters between ragged breaths, clearly trying to keep her tears at bay.

Rowan wipes his thumb across her wet cheek, pushing the tears away, but they come in steady streams.

“Y-you were r-right,” she whispers through sniffs. She closes her eyes and takes a deep, centering breath. When she opens them again, blue gold eyes stare into his, and he’s nearly knocked out by the emotion he sees swirling in them. “No one can make me do anything I don’t want to. I’m done pretending.” She breathes heavily. “Sam s-sucks,” she says, her voice cracking slightly.

Rowan smiles softly at her. “I could have told you that,” he says, and she chuckles humorlessly.

“My mom did not feel the same way…” she trails off, and the flash of hurt in her eyes tells Rowan that there’s a lot more to her fight than she’s willing to admit to him. “It was the worst fight we’ve ever had.” She breathes deeply. “I can’t go back there tonight.”

“You can stay here as long as you want,” Rowan says, and he means it. It’s not entirely a selfless offer.

Rowan leans forward tentatively and kisses Aelin’s forehead. She exhales a shaky breath beneath his touch, and he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her onto his lap. Her tears return in full force as she cradles herself against him. Dark splotches mar his shirt with her running makeup. She leans back and swipes at her cheeks.

“Oh g-god, I’m getting your sh-shirt all d-dirty,” she cries, the small detail making her even more upset. “I’m s-sorry. A crying g-girl s-so isn’t wh-what you s-signed up-p for.”

“I don’t care,” Rowan says emphatically, drawing her closer, and Aelin settles against his chest again. He runs his fingers through her golden hair, starting at her scalp and running all the way down the middle of her back, repeating the movement over and over until it becomes meditative. She sniffles quietly against him, her tears running dry as she calms down.

When her breaths finally even out, Rowan kisses the top of her head and tries to lift her off his lap, but she clings to him harder.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, and she nods, unclasping her fingers and letting him go. He goes to his dresser and grabs a worn in band tee and some boxers and tosses them onto the bed. He tugs his work clothes off and grabs some sweatpants from his bottom drawer. As he stands, two delicate hands wrap around his bare torso and soft lips press between his shoulder blades.

Rowan twines his fingers with hers as he turns around to look at her. She looks exhausted. The hours of crying have taken their toll on her. Her shoulders slump forward, and her sparkling eyes lack their usual luster. But Rowan thinks she’s never looked more beautiful.

She turns around in his arms and lifts her hair. He takes the hint and unzips her dress. She steps out of it and he holds up the band tee for her. She snakes her head through, and Rowan can’t help the surge of delight he feels at seeing her in his clothes. Aelin steps forward and wraps her arms around his neck, holding him close. He returns the hug so tightly he can feel their hearts beating together.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and Rowan hugs her tighter in response. He’d hold her forever if she let him. “Can I wash my face?” she asks, and Rowan nods and points her in the direction of the bathroom. Rowan finishes dressing as she cleans her face, and gets comfortable on his bed. When Aelin comes back out, she frowns at him unhappily.

“What?” he asks, nervous that he’s done something to upset her.

“You put a shirt on,” she complains, and Rowan can’t help but smile widely at that.

“So thirsty,” he says with a laugh, and Aelin finally smiles for the first time all evening.

“I’m actually hungry,” she says, crawling onto the bed next to him. He’s about to call her out for her blatant innuendo when she continues. “With tonight’s upset… I didn’t get to eat dinner.”

Rowan lifts his arm, and Aelin snuggles underneath it. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks. He holds out his phone for her to scroll through the limited delivery options, and Rowan smiles again at the domestic scene.

Aelin decides on Chinese food, and as they wait for it to arrive, they turn on the TV to one of Rowan’s favorite cooking competition shows.

Cuddled together on his bed, Rowan’s heart feels full. He resumes running his fingers through her hair, and Aelin sighs happily. He thinks about Elide’s advice, wondering if he should just tell Aelin what he’s feeling when she breaks the silence herself.

“You’re a really great friend, Rowan,” she says, and Rowan nods, squashing his feelings down again. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” he croaks out, continuing his movements through her hair. She kisses his bandaged hand and holds it in hers. As they sit together, Rowan can’t help but think this doesn’t feel like friendship. In fact, he thinks it feels a lot like love.

~*~*~*~*~

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[max-is-tired]

It’s Fine By Me (If You Never Leave)

Pairing: Dukexiety

Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders

Words: 2.062

Warnings: Sympathetic Remus, swearing, crying, kissing

Notes: I... might be starting to grow lowkey in love with Dark Sides ships sdkjvnsjkfvn 

Anyway!! here is a new fic, not even a week after the last one I posted -miracles exist apparently. A big thank you to my boyfriend @afulldeckofaces for catching the mistakes that slipped past 3am me skvnsfjv you’re the best babe <3

I hope you guys like it!!

Commission me!!  Buy me a coffee!!  Join my Discord server!!

If you had told 15 years old Virgil that one day he would’ve fallen in love with none other than Remus Grimm, he would’ve probably ended up cracking a rib or two by laughing too much.

And yet, look at him now -19 years old ad head over hills for his best friend, who just happened to have had to move two towns over because of college.

God, feelings sucked.

Virgil groaned in frustration, letting his forehead hit the textbook lying open in front of him with a muffled thump.

He was tired. He was so. Fucking. Tired. Tired of college, tired of this stupid crush that kept stubbornly refusing to go away, tired of his stupid anxiety and tired of having to deal with all of this without his best friend by his side.

Yes, he was grumpy because he hadn’t seen Remus in more than a month, sue him.

As if sensing his worsening mood, his phone buzzed, breaking Virgil out of his thoughts. Letting out a series of annoyed grumbles and half-assed curses, Virgil snatched his phone from where it was lying on the desk, Remus’ wild grin staring back at him from the screen.

It was a photo they had taken that summer, just before Remus had had to leave for college. Roman had been the one taking it, the day Patton had decided to drag -for some more literally than others- their entire group out for some ice cream.

Remus had thrown his arm around Virgil’s shoulder, proudly showing off his chocolate mustache as the other fumbled with his cone to keep it from falling to the ground.

Virgil remembered glaring daggers at him for a total of two seconds before Remus’ waggling eyebrows did him in and sent him in a snickering fit.

Virgil remembered the weight of Remus’ arm around his shoulder, his warmth seeping through his shirt in a way that somehow, didn’t make him uncomfortable -he had never felt uncomfortable with Remus, not once, not even under the hot summer Florida weather in the middle of July.

He only saw that photo for the first time later that night, staring at Remus’ wide grin and sparkling green eyes as his heart hammered in his chest.

The realization had crashed over him like a tsunami, every thought in his head screeching to a halt as he slowly became more and more aware of the fact that he was very much in love with his best friend.

”Of course,” Virgil remembered thinking, staring at his phone with wide eyes, ”who else could it be?”

And boy if that thought alone hadn’t scared the living shit out of him.

For a moment, Virgil let his mind linger on the memory of that sunny afternoon, a soft smile stretching on his face.

Then, he swiped up and clicked on the notification.

”You up for a little chat?” read Remus’ message, followed by a string of random emojis Virgil didn’t even try to decipher -he knew it would probably be useless since they rarely made sense in the first place.

Virgil frowned, threw a considering glance at his textbook and the various papers still scattered on the desk and shrugged -it was not like he was getting anything done anyway.

“sure, why not”

Not even ten seconds later Virgil’s phone lit up with an incoming call, the first notes of My Immortal filling the room.

“Hey there Spider boy!” came Remus’ voice from the other side of the line.

Immediately, Virgil felt some of the tension leave his shoulders, relaxing back on his chair as he pushed himself away from the cluttered desk.

“Sup, Trashman,” he answered, not even bothering to fight down the tired grin tugging at his lips -Remus was not there to tease him about it anyway, so.

“Wow, don’t sound too excited to hear from me.”

Virgil snorted, his smile turning more and more genuine as the seconds passed.

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later. But really, you sound like shit -everything alright? Are there some bones that I need to break?”

Virgil groaned, leaning back as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Now that he wasn’t panicking over his homework exhaustion was slamming down on him full-force, making it very hard for him to string together a coherent thought let alone think about filtering whatever shit was coming out of his mouth.

“It’s just… fucking everything, man. College is kicking my ass, my anxiety is kicking my ass and I’m just- I’m just tired, you know?”

From the other side of the line, Virgil heard Remus hiss in sympathy at his words.

“Yeah, shit, that sounds rough as hell.”

A beat of silence, and then-

“I can drive over and burn down your campus if you want. No college, no classes. Boom, airtight.”

Virgil couldn’t have stopped the amused snickers leaving his mouth even if he’d tried, shoulders shaking with his laughter as he fought to stifle it down.

“Thanks for the very tempting offer, but I think I’ll give it a pass for now.”

Then, he sighed, feeling his smile slip away as he stared at the ceiling, his sadness starting to creep up on him again. “... I miss you,” he whispered -he hadn’t exactly meant to say that out loud, but he had and now just couldn’t stop.

“I just- I miss our daily escapades and you sneaking into my room at the oddest hours of the day because you decided for some reason that simply using the front door was too mainstream.”

Virgil took in a ragged breath, distantly feeling his eyes start to sting with unshed tears.

“I miss being able to just call you when everything gets too much with the knowledge you’ll be knocking at my window in five minutes max. I miss having you physically by my side every day, I miss my best friend and I feel so fucking bad about it because you’re following your dreams and I’m proud of you, I really am but I also want you right here by my side and-”

Virgil audibly snapped his mouth shut, pressing a hand over his lips to stifle his sobs as tears streamed down his face out of his control.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, moving the phone away from his ear.

“Virgil-” Remu voice called, sounding worried and maybe a little desperate. but before he could say anything more, Virgil hung up, letting his room fall back into silence before throwing the phone somewhere on his bed.

Virgil bit down hard on his lip, but he could do nothing against the sobs that kept bubbling in his throat. One escaped, then another and soon Virgil could do nothing but curl up with his head hidden between his knees, yearning for the one person that could not help him the way he wanted him to.

+++

Virgil didn’t exactly remember when he fell asleep, his memory being somewhat hazy in-between the tears that seemed to never end and the way he kept feeling like something was trying to squeeze him to death from the inside-out.

What he did remember, however, was waking up to a very familiar sound -one he’d thought he wouldn’t get to hear again in quite some time.

Initially, during those few moments floating between dreams and awakening, when reality hasn’t quite set in yet and sleep still hangs heavily from your eyelids, Virgil had almost believed he was still dreaming, his own vain hopes playing cruel tricks to his brain.

But the seconds kept ticking and Virgil kept hearing the goddamn sound, so there were only two possible explanations -either someone was trying to break into his room, or-

Virgil bolted up, almost tumbling off the chair he had fallen asleep on -which, ouch- in his haste to get to the window.

And sure enough, there Remus was, with his signature manic grin as he waved at Virgil from the tree branch he was perched on.

Virgil stared, hands moving almost on their own as they went through the familiar motions of unlocking the window to let his best friend in.

“Thanks, it was starting to get chilly out!” Remus chirped, climbing in with practiced ease and plopping himself down on the bed.

“What the fuck,” Virgil answered, still trying to process what was going on.

“I- you- what???” Virgil felt like his brain was about to implode, his gaze flickering from Remus to the window and then back to Remus again.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing here? It’s fucking two am or something like that and you live like, three hours away!”

Remus shrugged, shuffling around so he could sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed.

“My best friend is hurting, why would I not come?”

“It’s the middle of the week, you have classes tomorrow,” Virgil weakly pointed out, starting to feel a little choked up with all the emotions coursing through him at once.

“It’s Thursday, or Friday morning is you wanna be accurate,” Remus easily countered. “I know for a fact that neither you nor I have anything important going on tomorrow and the weekend is class free, so I’m going to crash here until Monday morning since we both have afternoon classes. And no, this is not up to debate. It’s happening, Spider Boy.”

Virgil blinked, staring at him with wide eyes as his heart hammered in his chest.

There was a tingling sensation running through all of his body, electrifying in the best of ways. It felt like fire and ice and water altogether, filling him up and up until-

“I love you,” Virgil blurted out, unable to stop the words from tumbling out any longer.

Remus stared for a second before a dazzling grin took over his face.

“I love you too!” he chirped, grinning so wide Virgil distantly worried if it didn’t hurt to pull at the muscles that much.

“No, uh-” Virgil stuttered, all too aware of how flustered he probably looked at that moment.

He bit his lip, pondering his next course of action. He could still salvage this, just let it go and make Remus believe he meant it in a platonic way and nothing more, burying his feelings in the deepest and darkest corner of his heart. But on the other hand… did he really want to do that?

“I meant in a romantic way, Remus,” he finally admitted, looking everywhere but at his best friend, “I love you as in I want to be your boyfriend and kiss you and stuff.”

Silence fell, filling the room as Virgil kept carefully avoiding Remus’ eyes.

God, he’d ruined everything, didn’t he?

Then he saw a familiar hand reach out and grab a fistful of his hoodie, firmly tugging him forward before he could express his confusion.

Virgil let out a startled yelp, stumbling towards the bed until he found himself face-to-face with his best friend. Still grinning, Remus winked before leaning in, erasing the last few inches separating them as he kissed him square on the lips.

Virgil froze, eyes as wide as saucers as he tried to comprehend whatever the fuck was going on. But before he could do that, Remus pulled back, slowly letting his eyes slide open again as a small, soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips -it was such a strange expression to see on Remus’ face, but Virgil found that he didn’t mind it at all, as long as it was directed at him.

“I know what you meant,” Remus chuckled, pecking Virgil on the lips again for good measure, “and I love you too. Now, are you gonna actually get on the bed and cuddle or do I need to drag you under the covers myself?”

Virgil let out a startled snort, feeling like he was reeling from the last five minutes alone. Still, he dutifully climbed on the bed and flopped down, feeling his exhaustion start to creep back on him again.

Remus grinned, laying down beside Virgil and immediately cuddling as close as humanly possible.

“Comfy?” Virgil teased, moving his hand to gently card it through the other’s hair.

“Hush boyfriend, pillows don’t talk,” Remus grumbled, already halfway gone as he somehow snuggled even closer.

Virgil hummed, leaning down to leave a kiss in Remus’ hair.

Boyfriend, uh? Well, it did have a nice ring to it.

[sixmapleleafs]

chicken nuggets // frederik andersen

Summary: Your midnight cravings lead to a heartfelt conversation about your growing family with your husband.

"Freddie?" I said quietly as I rolled over in bed to face him. He was snoring lightly, his red hair messy and the stressed look on his face was finally gone as he slept peacefully. I felt bad for waking him up but the kick from our baby reminded me why I was.

"Freddie? Baby?" I said again, nudging him lightly on the shoulder nearest to me.

"Mhm, what is it babe?" He said turning to face me with a tired smile.

"Can you go get me some chicken nuggets?" He burst out laughing at my question, gradually waking up more.

"You woke me up at 3am for some chicken nuggets?" He questioned still laughing until he noticed I wasn't laughing with him.

"It's not me it's the baby..." I said quietly, for some reason feeling quite embarrassed by my early morning cravings. He kissed my cheek when he noticed my mood and threw the covers off himself, I smiled when I realised that meant he was going to get them for me. I rested a hand on my baby bump and my eyes followed his muscular body around the room as he got some clothes on.

"Do you want McDonald's or...?" He asked leaning down on the bed to give me a kiss, I just nodded before placing my lips gently on his. He smiled down at me before grabbing his keys and leaving our house. I switched the tv on and watched some keeping up with the Kardashian's whilst I waited for him to get home, after 20 minutes or so I heard the front door slam shut and Freddie's footsteps making their way back to our bedroom.

"There you go baby" he said chuckling when he saw my face light up at the sight of the bag in his hands.

"Thank you so much, you're the best husband ever" I said already half way threw a chicken nugget. He shook his head with a smile and started getting undressed before he slipped back into bed in only his boxers. I swatted his hand away when he tried to grab one and he laughed putting his hands up in surrender.

"I did just go out and buy them for you at 3 o'clock in the morning" I just shrugged but when I saw his best attempt at puppy dog eyes staring at me I gave in and let him have one.

"So what made you want chicken nuggets?" He asked throwing his arm around me and pulling me in closer once I was finished. He turned the tv off and I cuddled deeper into him.

"Don't ask me, ask our baby" I said laughing and he smiled, kissing my forehead as he rested one of his large hands on my stomach rubbing it slowly.

"I still can't believe I'm going to be a dad" he said quietly, I lifted my head to look at him and noticed the worried expression on his face. I stroked his cheek with my hand and planted a small kiss on his lips.

"You're going to be amazing, Freddie. I know you will" he smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes meaning he didn't really believe me.

"How can you be so sure?" He asked.

"Because you take such good care of me, and I couldn't imagine raising a baby with anyone else" I said my tone changing into a serious one. I tilted his head slightly so he was looking into my eyes. "This baby is so lucky to have you as their dad, I mean it Freddie I love you more than anything and I know you will the best dad in the world." I said tears pooling in my eyes. He smiled softly and I saw the tears in his eyes, he kissed me gently wiping away some of the tears that had escaped.

"What would I do without you?"

"Eat way less chicken nuggets probably" I said causing both of us to laugh.

"I love you Y/n"

"I love you too Freddie"

"We should probably get some sleep, we have a doctors appointment in the morning" I groaned at the thought of having to get up early.

"You sure you can miss this practice? I don't want to pull you away from anything important"

"Nothing is more important that you and this baby plus Coach said it's fine, he's got kids he knows how special these moments are" he said kissing the top of my head and we settled down to get some sleep. "And I could never miss this one, we're going to find out the gender of our baby" I smiled as I remembered that we would in fact be able to find out the gender tomorrow.

"It's a girl I can tell" I said earning a scoff from Freddie in response.

"I told you it's a boy"

"Nope definitely a girl"

"Boy."

"Girl."

"Boy."

"Girl." I said laughing as he planted kisses all over my face whilst laughing himself.

"I love you Freddie" I said wrapping my arms around him.

"I love you too" he said wrapping his arms around me as well and hugging me tightly into him. "But it's a boy."

[scary-lasagna]

Hey, could I have headcanons about how the boys became interested in they’re s/o? I’ve always wondered what set them “apart” or how they meet them. I hope you have a good day and that quarantine isnt driving you bonkers!

I would’ve totally done Masky and Hoodie/any others but I’ve already written too much lmao

Jeff

When out of his usual Friday night killing spree, he was caught off guard by a scream from outside rather than inside where he was currently doing the stabbing motions.

He was intrigued to say the least.

Jeff ventured outside, and upon seeing your frightened face, he knew he just had to make you scream a little bit more before landing a final blow.

He chased after you down the city streets, desperately trying to corner you like a cat chasing a mouse.

And then he saw how frail, how weak you looked as you cowered against the brick wall of the alley.

He wanted to toy with you before he killed you, so he dragged you home with him.

He was surprised, nonetheless impressed, with how quickly you found a way to stab him without a weapon.

You still ended up being dragged home by the killer.

He just couldn't bring himself to hurt you. You looked so beautiful b how your skin glowed, and the way your eyes sparkle in the sunlight.

And whenever he managed to get a smile from you proved his mood better for the rest of the day.

And instead of toying around and scaring you, y'all just kind of lived as roommates until you eventually grew feelings for him.

Ben

When Ben is bored, he likes sifting through webcam and security cameras from his hometown.

Or at least what he believes to be his hometown. He doesn't exactly remember, but some of the faces look familiar.

But everyone w sleeping at 3am, so there wasn't much entertainment for the elf.

And then there was you, a new resident who was raiding your fridge for yogurt, pudding, chocolate, Doritos, and whatever else you could find in the middle of the night.

Ben found himself watching you more than usual, contemplating if he wants to strike you as his newest victim or not.

But the Majora cartridge somehow found it's way onto your living room couch, along with a battered down N64.

You thought it was just one of your friends who put it there, a few of your close friends/family has a house key in case you ever get locked out.

What a nice house warming gift.

But what was not a nice house warming gift was the blonde fucker that climbed out of your television screen.

He found your reactions cute and funny, so he lingered around for a bit. He was a ghost, it's not like you could attack him or anything.

But honestly?

You felt yourself vibing with him, and you found yourself becoming good friends, and eventually more than that.

Eyeless Jack

What Jack thought to be a midnight snack was actually a start to his random act of kindness for the day.

You wore a necklace to bed that night, something you thought would never make you cross paths with Death himself.

It got caught on your Smartwatch, tangling and twisting around the face until you woke up gasping for empty breaths of air.

Jack hopped through the window just in time.

As if it were his instinct, he was quick to break the necklace and rip it off of your neck.

By this time you were fading out of consciousness.

A pair of hands held the back of your neck, and a gaze of darkness inspected your breathing.

You awoke to a very rough jostling, a metallic smelling finger going as far as opening one of your eyelids.

When you start coughing the stranger steps back silently, cocking his head to the side as he watches you recover.

Why this man was in your room you had no idea, but you were very grateful that he was here when he was.

The silence between the both of you was thick. His prying eyes were observing you, and it sent goosebumps along your skin despite the sweat clinging to your skin.

And then he took out a knife, or was it a surgical tool? You had no time to double-check because you were already chasing him out with a tennis racket that you KNEW how to use.

He came back though, perched on your windowsill like an unwanted cat.

"Do you want to come in?" The man in black slowly nodded.

"Do you want to hurt me?" A hesitation, but nonetheless he shook his head side to side.

He observed you once you allowed him entry, not really making effort to talk except, "You smell nice." Which made you sweat nervously.

With more interaction, you noticed that he's not /too/ weird, and he's very intelligent with a side of sarcasm.

You started to grow fond of the way his body loomed over yours, and the way his teeth poked over his lips with he smirked.

Toby

Toby was severely injured in the woods, practically left there to die by whoever was deemed to be his attacker.

But lucky you, you stumbled upon the serial killer when on your way home from work.

You thought the glowing eyes reflecting off of your headlights were those of a wounded animal, but it was worse than that.

This boy was absolutely covered in blood. There's no way he'd survive out here alone, taking that he's already passed out from blood loss.

You drag him to your car, not caring about the blood on your seats. You patch him up to the best of your ability until you can find a hospital.

But a gasp from the backseat says otherwise, frantically pleading to stop the car.

" I-I-I can'- I can't go to the doc-doctor! Please!!"

"Dude, you're bleeding everywhere, you need help."

"Not all of it is my blood."

That made your tires screech, nearly sending Toby into a panic attack. Flashbacks of a certain car crash keep trying to wiggle its way to the front of his mind.

And then he passes out again.

You don't want to be involved in any type of murder, plus you have no idea what this dude's story is. He could've been helping people that got injured? Hopefully?

It's not like you can just leave him on the side of the road somewhere.

You brought him home and nursed him back to health to the best of your abilities (and google).

He didn't have any interest in you at first, he was more focused on returning home. Toby even debated killing you a few times, and right when he had the hatchet raised, "Toby are you covered up? It's getting chilly."

Toby lolls his head back, letting his forearms meet his forehead and still limply hold onto the hatchet.

Every time he attempts murder, you always seem to have something nice to say. And eventually, you start to remind Toby of his late sister.

You cared about him, which is not something that happens often to the ticing brunette.

After catching feelings, you're not able to get rid of him unless you kick him out of the car like a lost puppy.

So, he'll just have to stick around for a little while longer, cuddling on the couch as you watch Disney films.