#lmao i really waited til the end of the month to get back into huh

[nidbaesenpai]

first post of the year an starting strong with some owl house fanart ❤️

[magniloquent-raven]

Could a I get trans!Tommy x Billy fic where Billy finds out Tommy is trans and he's freaking out but Billy just reassures him and comforts him until one thing leads to another and they end up having sex?

this ended up 1) a college au for some reason, 2) t4t because i started writing billy as trans without even thinkin about it at first lmao and 3) MUCH longer than i thought it would be, holy shit

i hope all that's okay & i really hope u enjoy ur fic 💕💕💕

~tag list ppl just in case yall are interested even tho its a ship ive never written before? @growup-thatbeautiful @spreckle @prettyboy-like-you ~

[read on ao3]

**

“Carol broke up with me again,” Tommy says, words slurred by the alcohol in his system and muffled by his forearm squished against his cheek. He blinks up at Billy from where he’s half-laying on the peeling cover of his algebra text book. They didn’t bother clearing the homework from his desk before dumping three six-packs and a plastic bag stuffed with snack food on top of the mess. 

He’s usually a fun drunk, Billy wouldn’t have brought beer if he’d known it was gonna go like this. 

But of course it’s because of Carol. It’s always because of Carol. Except that one time it was because of a phonecall with his mother that he refused to talk about, even after the tequila loosened his lips enough to have him waxing poetic about his ex-bff with a wistful look in his eye. 

“Again?” Billy leans back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. He’s got one booted foot propped on the edge of Tommy’s roommate’s bed. “This is the third time in four months, man. Is your dick too small to keep her satisfied, or what.”

He’s supposed to push back. That’s how this works. He’s supposed to bristle and sit up and defend himself, because he has some fucking pride. And before he knows it he’ll be too busy exchanging barbs with Billy to think about how miserable he is about the breakup. 

He’s not supposed to turn his head, hiding his face in his folded arms, and mumble, “Something like that…” all morose and self-pitying. 

Because no one comes to Billy for this shit. To be vulnerable. To talk about feelings and have an honest heart-to-heart and a shoulder to cry on and all that crap people want when they’re going through a real break-up. He can put on a good face when girls come sniffing around for a rebound lay. The girls who got screwed over by their white-bread boyfriends and want to pretend they’re over it by getting fingerbanged in a public bathroom by some bad boy who won’t call them after. But fake sympathy and an uncanny ability to deflect questions about why he doesn’t want his touch reciprocated did not prepare him for…whatever is happening right now.

“Y’know there’s other ways to fuck a girl, right,” Billy says from behind his beer. There’s not much left and it’s still not making this conversation any easier.

Tommy groans, burrowing deeper into his sleeves. “I know.”

“Hm.”

“S’complicated.”

“Not if you know what you’re looking—wait. The break-up. Right. Look, you want my advice? Move on. Live a little. You came halfway across the country to, what, stay leashed to the same pussy you’ve been getting since you were twelve? Who the fuck does that.”

“Dunno.”

Billy blows out a slow breath, then downs the rest of his beer. He drops the empty can on Tommy’s desk and watches it rock, tip, and fall over. It rolls, wobbling through drying condensation rings and chip crumbs ‘til it hits Tommy’s elbow, coming to a stop next to his left ear. He doesn’t move.

The assholes next door are having an obnoxiously loud argument, only slightly muffled through the thin walls. The radio on Tommy’s bedside table warbles through a jingle that keeps cutting in and out. Neither of them speak for a long, awkward moment.   

“...She really did a number on you, huh.”

Tommy sighs. “Nah.” He pauses, then peeks out from the crook of his arm. “Kinda.” He stares at the can nestled up against his arm, looking uncharacteristically contemplative. “Dunno, man, I just want people to stop leaving me.”

Billy’s lungs seize painfully, his whole chest tightening around the jagged edges of a sympathetic twinge, like gripping a shard of glass in his fist, cutting himself open on it. There’s anger dripping from that open wound, familiar and yet foreign in its compassion for Tommy of all people. 

They’ve never been especially close. Billy’s not especially close with anybody, and he always figured hanging around Tommy would make it easy to keep it that way. The guy just gives off a vibe. The small town jock type, only ever wants to talk about tits and booze and whatever stupid, embarrassing gossip he can turn into a joke.

For six months Billy’s been content to do that, to hang out with Tommy drinking beer and pretending to care about the low-cut tanktops their English lit professor favours. It feels good, in a way. Safe. But it was never supposed to be about Tommy himself. He wasn’t supposed to care about him. Caring about people is dangerous. Makes it harder to cut ties if he needs to. Or worse, it means the inevitable rejection if he ever gets outed will actually hurt.

Tommy’s still looking at him, sullen and hazy-eyed. His freckles are just barely visible in the shitty lamplight, his hair is sticking up at odd angles, flattened on one side from laying on his desk. He’s kind of pretty when he’s not being a shithead.

Wait. No. No, no. Absolutely the fuck not. Not going there. 

Billy tries very hard to look like he has no opinions about Tommy’s face. Or his stupid puppy-dog eyes.

He bites his tongue when panic tries to sharpen it. The anxiety bubbling in his gut turns to bile burning his throat, and it’s tempting to lash out, to spit venom like the sour taste in his mouth is anyone’s fault but his, like pushing Tommy away would fix anything. 

He hasn’t seen Max since he moved into his tiny dorm room on campus. Hasn’t spoken to her since his acceptance letter came in months before that. He thought it would make things easier, better for both of them, but now he just gets angry at himself when seeing flashes of red hair makes his heart clench. 

It’s only ever made his life worse, he doesn’t know why he keeps trying it. 

The first time he let a boy fuck him he felt so shitty about it afterwards that he told everyone who would listen that the guy kissed like a dead fish and couldn’t even get his dick hard. It made Billy feel something, when people laughed and said that probably meant he was a fag. Something sickly and awful, but somehow vindicating. 

He caught three meatheads beating the shit out of the boy who took his virginity three weeks after he lied about it never happening. The look on his bloodied face still haunts Billy’s nightmares. 

Billy’s never made anyone’s life better by being in it. He doesn’t know what to say to someone who doesn’t want to be left.

“Yeah, I hear you, amigo,” he says grimly, and regrets it immediately. It’s too personal. Too self-pitying. It’s echoes of when is mom coming home, and a slap ringing in his ears, a phantom ache in his jaw, the taste of salt and iron.   

He keeps his gaze locked on a tiny dent near the top of the unopened beer he reaches for, hoping to occupy his hands, only to be stopped in his tracks when clumsy fingers pat his knuckles. He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a comforting gesture or if Tommy’s just too drunk to keep his hand steady and was trying to grab ahold of him. 

The look on his face is oddly intense, sombre, like stroking the back of Billy’s hand is the most important thing he’s ever done and it’s taking all his concentration to do it. There’s a little pinch between his eyebrows, and a slant to his mouth.

Billy should snatch his hand away, but he lets it happen. Despite his embarrassment it’s kind of nice. 

“I like having you around.”

Well. That might be a bridge too far. Maybe. The tips of his ears feel hot. “Okay, I think you’ve probably had enough to drink tonight, Hagan.”

Tommy scoffs, his nose wrinkling a little.

“Seriously, if you propose to my hand I’m never buying you beer again.” 

“Liar.” 

“Don’t test me.” Billy can’t quite keep the laugh out of his voice.

“Pff.” He pauses, his fingertips coming to rest along the length of Billy’s thumb, pinky finger toying with the ragged edge of his nail. “You like having me around, right?” There’s a desperate edge to the question, a tremble that makes Billy nervous. 

“I—” He chews the inside of his cheek, studying the sad twist pulling at the corner of Tommy’s mouth. “Yeah.” Maybe he’s drunk enough he won’t remember this tomorrow. Maybe that’s why Billy nudges his hand, linking two of their fingers together, a tiny smile tugging at his lips when Tommy gapes at him. “Yeah I do.”

**

Billy’s head pounds when he stirs, rustling unfamiliar sheets, and the light filtering in through crooked blinds makes his eyes ache. At least the cottonmouth isn’t too bad, and his stomach seems to be behaving itself. He’s definitely had worse, much worse. 

There’s a groan across the room. He buries his face into the borrowed pillow tucked under his arm to hide a snicker. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy grumbles. There’s a whoosh of displaced air and a muffled thump. A pillow hitting the carpet. “Shit.”

“Nice aim.”

“Urgh.”

He doesn’t have class today, there’s no rush to be anywhere, but he’s never been good at laying around doing nothing. His first few weeks of adjusting to life free from Neil he tried sleeping in, rebelling against rules he was no longer bound by, but he mostly ended up staring at water-stained ceilings bored out of his mind. He doesn’t bother anymore. The entire life he’s building for himself is a fuck you to Neil, he doesn’t need every little thing to be about him.

He stretches, his shoulder popping loudly in the early-morning quiet, and glances over at the lump of blankets in Tommy’s bed. 

“How’s your head?” Billy asks, not bothering to keep the smirk out of his voice.

Tommy grunts. The outline of his shoulder shifts slightly. 

“That bad, huh.”

Another noncommittal noise. 

Billy rolls his eyes, pushing himself upright and out of bed. His jeans are around here somewhere in the mess, but he doesn’t remember taking them off, and definitely doesn’t remember tossing them…over the half-eaten remains of last night’s pizza. Gross. 

There’s a grease stain on the back of one thigh, but they pass the sniff test.

He’s wiggling them over his hips when Tommy finally sits up. “M’ gonna be sick,” he croaks, and falls out of bed in a tangle of sheets and oversized t-shirt bunched around his midriff. Billy gets a glimpse of soft freckled stomach and a yellowing tanktop before Tommy gives his shirt a hurried tug, smoothing it down with jittery hands. 

He doesn’t look at Billy as he staggers towards the door, steps over discarded gym shorts, catches his toe on the busted folding chair his roommate keeps promising to fix, and finally slips into the hallway, hissing curses under his breath. 

And Billy doesn’t think anything of it. Tommy’s never a ray of sunshine in the morning, and he’s even worse when nursing a hangover. He was focused on getting to the bathroom down the hall before he tossed his cookies all over the floor, he didn’t exactly have time to stop and make small talk. It’s not weird.

But it gets weird. 

Billy waits way too long for him to come back. He tosses back the last of his flat, warm beer. Combs out his curls with his fingers, carefully rearranging them in the mirror propped next to Tommy’s sparse bookshelf. Picks through the crumpled worksheets strewn across the desk. And finally decides to check if Tommy choked on his own vomit. 

Only he’s nowhere to be found.

And, fine, Billy’s not needy or whatever, he can get breakfast on his own. It’s not like they had plans Tommy’s flaking out on, Billy just kinda thought…

It doesn’t matter what he thought. It’s fine.

He goes back to his own dorm. Changes his jeans. Isn’t bothered.

…He’s a little bothered when he sees Tommy later that day and Tommy bugs the fuck out, all but fleeing in the opposite direction. 

Because. Yeah, that’s weird. 

Doubt starts to dig its spindly fingers in, thin and brittle but pointed. 

They both said some shit last night. Which was Tommy’s fucking fault, getting drunk like that when he was in a mood. And he’s the one who kept trying to make it all touchy-feely. 

Christ, he should’ve fucking known Tommy was going to remember, it was stupid to engage with him in the first place. Shit’s awkward now because he’s a fucking sucker and now Tommy knows it. 

Or maybe it’s more than awkward, and Tommy’s straight-up pissed at him. Billy’s stomach curdles at the thought. 

He can’t handle this. Tying himself up in knots because he got the brush-off. Worrying and wondering and chewing his thumbnail ‘til he tastes blood. It’s pathetic. 

Tommy doesn’t have class today either, so Billy checks his dorm first. 

And then he checks the cafeteria. The lot behind the cafeteria where Tommy smokes sometimes. Carol’s dorm—thankfully empty, he doesn’t feel like answering a million questions and then having his answers dissected by her and her friends after he leaves. 

He’s running out of places to look when he spots Tommy next to a payphone in front of the main office. The walkway is empty, it’s just Tommy hunched around the phone, clutching it in both hands and deeply engrossed in his conversation. Enough that he doesn’t seem to notice Billy approaching.

His voice is low, but Billy catches snippets. Carol’s name. “Mamá,” sighed repeatedly, exasperated. He gets more agitated every time he stutters to a halt, apparently cut off. 

“I just thought you should know, okay!” Tommy runs a hand through his hair and rolls his eyes skyward. “No—no, mamá, iba a traerla—yes, I was…”

Billy leans against cold brick, his denim jacket scraping the wall as he crosses his arms, waiting. 

“Ese no es mi problema,” he snaps, glaring at nothing and getting steadily louder. “No. I’m not her precious little neita anymore, she can’t stay in denial forever!”

Oh?

Billy’s ears are ringing. Tommy’s voice is an indistinct buzz.

It could be nothing. A slip of the tongue. Billy’s Spanish getting rusty. It could be Billy reading into things—hoping, like that’s ever gotten him anything but heartbroken—just, seeing things that aren’t there because he wants to be a little less alone. 

But still. He’s never seen Tommy wearing less than two shirts, and he's always been just as averse to the dorm's shared bathroom as Billy is. Sometimes tiny, incidental things will throw him off, but Billy never thought much of it until now. Until he was smacked in the face with the possibility that Tommy could be like him. 

It feels a little unreal, a little like vapor he’s trying to catch with his bare hands, not quite solid but leaving enough droplets of water on his hands that he’s knows there’s something.

Tommy seems to realize he’s shouting, and glances around, worrying his bottom lip. It slips from between his teeth when he locks eyes with Billy and his jaw goes slack. 

Because he’s been trying to avoid Billy all day or because he thinks he might’ve just outed himself?

Either way his posture immediately changes, going rigid, spine straightening, holding himself with enough bravado that it almost hides the way his gaze darts around, nervously scanning the empty sidewalk. Looking for an exit, probably. 

He mumbles a rushed goodbye into the receiver, not waiting for a response before he slams the phone back onto its hook and folds his arms, fists balled in the crooks of his elbows.

“I swear to god, I’ll piss on your pillow if you take off on me again.” Billy pushes away from the building, pointing a threatening finger. 

“I wasn’t—fuckin’—what the hell. Gross.”

“So don’t leave.” The words twinge as they leave his mouth, falling heavier between them than Billy really meant them to. Tommy flinches. Just a little. The tiniest twitch at the corner of his eye. A minute change to the slope of his shoulders. Billy exhales slow through his nose. “What’s the deal, Hagan.”

“Shit,” Tommy mutters, sweeping a hand through his hair and shifting away from Billy with a grimace. “Shit. Look, man, I don’t know what you think you heard, but it’s—I’m not. Y’know what, just forget about it, okay.”

Billy raises an eyebrow. He can feel his heartbeat racing, hammering at the inside of his ribcage. “Forget what exactly,” he says, keeping his voice even. 

He has to know. For sure. He can’t just out himself for a maybe. 

“Don’t play dumb, you’re shitty at it,” Tommy snaps, but there’s a thready quality to it. “I’m not gonna fucking say it. You know what I’m talking about.”

“Do I?”

“I saw the look on your face, man, I’m not stupid. I know what it looks like when someone realizes they’ve been hanging out with a fuckin’ freak.” He jabs a finger at Billy, gesturing in a vague circle around his face. “That. Right before the regret sets in. And you bail. Or worse.” He clenches his teeth, a muscle in his jaw twitching. It’s not quite enough to hide the current of anxiety thrumming through his jerky movements. 

There are things he should say right now. Things he should do. But all he’s getting it static. Fuzz. He’s wildly spinning a dial and getting nothing but snippets of words that he loses in the white noise. 

He’s fucking this up. 

He tongues his cheek. Deliberates. 

“We should take this somewhere else,” he says carefully, pointedly flicking his gaze towards the office building behind them. They might be alone out here, but there’s no guarantee they’ll stay that way. There are people in there. For all he knows there could be someone peeking through the blinds at them right now.

But Tommy just stares at him, incredulous. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“Would you just—” Billy blows out an irritated breath. The back of his neck is prickling, like he’s being watched. He can’t fucking concentrate. “It’s not what you think.” The scoff he gets in response is not encouraging. “I’m not bailing on you, alright, would you just come with me and let me say my piece?”

If their positions were reversed he knows what he’d do. He wouldn’t risk being alone with someone who just found him out, it’s a stupid fucking thing to do. Anyone who asked him to take that risk would get laughed at and left in the dust. And yet here he is asking Tommy to trust him, like he has any right to do that. 

Promising to stick around doesn’t feel like enough but it’s all he can give right now. He wants it to work so badly it hurts, aches like he’s ripped out a part of himself as an offering. 

Tommy narrows his eyes, looks him up and down, and mutters. “Fine.”

All the air punches out of Billy’s lungs. Maybe he can salvage this.

They walk in stiff silence, a careful six inches apart. Billy’s boots scrape against the pavement. He picks at a scab along the edge of his fingernail, watching Tommy out of the corner of his eye, catching the erratic flash of his hands flitting from place to place, pushing through his hair, adjusting the hem of his shirt. 

His dorm is closer, he steers him in that direction, ignoring Tommy’s suspicious side-eye.

It’ll be fine, he can clear shit up when they get there. It’ll be fine.

Still, guilt squeezes at his insides. 

His dorm room door clicks shut behind them. It’s deafening. 

He has no plan. He probably should have come up with a plan. His palms are sweating and his heart feels like it’s trying to crawl out of his mouth and his throat is so dry he’s not sure he could say anything even if he knew what to say, but…fuck, staring at the ripped corner of his Metallica poster isn’t even remotely productive, he needs to think—

Tommy grips his arm, tight enough to hurt, and tugs him around. His lips are pursed, downturned, and his eyes are bright, intense, flicking across Billy’s face. Billy’s half sure he’s about to get punched—Tommy looks to be working himself up to something—but instead he blinks and Tommy’s gone, Tommy’s…on his knees, clumsy fingers plucking at Billy’s belt buckle. 

“Oh—” Billy sucks in a breath, grabbing Tommy’s wrists. 

Dark eyes glare up at him. “Oh come on, this is what you wanted right? You’re not leaving because you want something. And it’s not gay if I’ve got a pussy, right—”

“Would you shut the fuck up for a second?” Billy says all in an exasperated rush, staring at the ceiling, a little lightheaded. He’s not entirely shocked by the heat that seared through him when he realized what Tommy was trying to do, but he wasn’t prepared for how much he wants him to. And now really isn’t the time to be thinking about using Tommy’s mouth to get off. “Look, I…”

His throat closes up. He still can’t say it.

Slowly, he lowers himself to the floor, sitting on the heels of his boots, his knees brushing Tommy’s. It’s easier to look at him from this angle. Or maybe it’s just because the strange intensity in his gaze has been replaced by confusion. There’s a vulnerable helplessness there that Billy didn’t notice before. Guilt grips him tighter. 

“I told you, it’s not what you think,” he says quietly. 

Before he can lose his nerve—an ignoring all the doubts plaguing him, what if he thinks less of me, what if he’s angry I kept it a secret, what if—Billy hooks his fingers under the hem of his shirt and tugs, pulling it over his head. 

Tommy blinks at him. Opens his mouth. Shuts it again.

He doesn’t stare at Billy’s scars. Billy expected him to stare. Showing him the scars was the whole point. He looks at them, sure, but he doesn’t look for very long. His eyes wander, scanning the entire expanse of tanned skin on display. Lingering on the freckles on Billy’s shoulder. The trail of soft blond hair below his belly button. 

If he was less caught up in feeling feelings that made his insides squirm and his fingers itch he might’ve laughed at how dazed Tommy’s looks. But he’s sure his expression isn’t any better. A hot flush prickles up Billy’s chest as he sits there, just letting Tommy ogle. 

“Uh.” Tommy clears his throat. His cheeks are pink. He hasn’t looked up yet. “So…”

“Yeah.”

“You…”

“Yup.”

“Huh.”

A beat. “I mean you can still blow me if you want, I just figured you’d want to know what you were getting into first.”

That does it. Tommy finally makes eye-contact, his eyebrows creeping up his forehead, a startled, slightly hysterical cackle bubbling out of him. The flush on his cheeks is still there but he looks less like he’s been hit over the head. “Asshole,” he says, unable to entirely keep the smile off his face. 

Billy shrugs, a grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, but I have it on good authority that you like having me around.”

The light in Tommy’s eyes dims a bit, and for a horrible second Billy thinks he’s fucked up again. Tommy huffs a quiet laugh, breaking eye-contact. “Sorry about that, by the way.” 

“What?”

“Uh. Last night. Being all…” He grimaces, and wiggles his fingers in the air. 

“...Is that why you took off this morning?”

“I…maybe.”

“Jesus Christ,” Billy groans, and punches his shoulder. “You aren’t the only one who hates being left behind y’know.” 

“Oh.” 

You had me worried.

He bites his tongue. It doesn’t need to be said. Tommy’s expression is soft, despite the fact that he’s rubbing his bicep where Billy hit him. 

“You didn’t scare me off,” Billy mutters instead, and winces at his own plaintive tone. But he can’t seem to stop now that he’s started. “You still haven’t. Still like having you around. Y’know, if—if you’re gonna stay.” 

Tommy lets out a quiet breath. A tiny noise in the back of his throat. And then he sways forward, closing the gap between them, and kisses Billy square on the mouth.

He’s not expecting it, is the thing. People are usually pretty unsubtle when they want him, and he can read the signs. He knows when someone’s going to make a move and he can prepare, put himself in whatever headspace he needs to be in to get through it. 

And it’s not like he wasn’t aware that Tommy had been checking him out, but this is…it’s something else. 

Because he was caught unawares he doesn’t have a goddamn plan, so he just reacts, messy and a little desperate in a way he hasn’t been since his first few times getting physical with someone. It would be embarrassing, except for the way Tommy’s breath hitches, and he leans into it. He can’t seem to get close enough where he is, because he shuffles forward on his knees ‘til they’re on either side of Billy’s thighs. 

He hovers there, straddling Billy’s lap, still pressing sloppy kisses to his lips, but doesn’t sit until Billy grabs him around his waist and tugs. 

Tommy lets out a sharp puff of a gasp as he’s pulled closer, it’s warm where it tickles Billy’s moustache, and he finally breaks their kiss to snicker. 

“Fuck off, you surprised me,” Tommy says, the annoyed act falling flat when the words come out breathy and trembling. 

“Mhm,” Billy hums, grinning at Tommy’s complete inability to keep a straight face while he slips his fingers under the seam of Tommy’s waistband, toying with the elastic of his briefs while his palms rest comfortably on his lower back. 

There’s a heat simmering in his gut, coiled low and tight, but the weight in his lap and hesitant fingertips pressed to his stomach feel just as pleasant. It’s…weird. New. Fragile. He’s not quite sure what this is but he wants to hold on to it. 

“So…we’re good, right?” He bites inside of his cheek to ground himself, and stop any more stupid questions from falling out of his face.

“Yeah, I mean—yeah? Pretty sure I’m, uh. Very good right now.” His eyes flicker down. “I was better a second ago though.”

Billy pushes the tip of his tongue between his teeth, feeling very smug when Tommy zeroes in on it. “You sure you’re not mad about earlier?” he lets his voice drop an octave, leaning in just enough to feel Tommy’s breathing quicken. “‘Cause I’ll work real hard to make it up to you if you are.”

“That cheesy porno shit usually work for you?” His tone is light, teasing, threaded with laughter, but his gaze is still heavy on Billy’s mouth, pupils blown and hazy with lust.

“Oh please, like it isn’t getting you going?” Billy dips his hands lower, fingertips pressed lightly into the soft flesh of Tommy’s asscheeks. He isn’t digging in, isn’t pushing, but Tommy shifts closer anyways, ‘til their chests are nearly flush, and they touch, briefly, with each shallow breath. “I bet your briefs are soaked right now.” 

Like his are any better, really. It’s taking all his self-control not to squirm and rub his hard little cock all through the slick mess under him. 

Tommy’s eyes fall shut, and he shudders. Billy feels him quiver. He slides his hands up Billy’s chest, palms skimming his ribs, briefly pausing to trace his scars, and coming to rest just under his collarbone. 

A pause.

And Tommy shoves him. Hard. 

His back hits the carpet, knocking the air out of him in a rush, a wheezing, incredulous laugh. Sparks dance up his spine. The heat in his belly flares. Tommy’s looking down at him like he wants to devour him, and Billy’s more than willing to let it happen.

This time when Tommy goes for the belt buckle, he doesn’t stop him. 

It jingles against the button on his jeans, flopping to the side as Tommy fumbles with his fly, hooks his fingers into worn belt loops, and tugs. His jeans are as much of a pain to take off as they always are, they both grimace and groan as he wiggles out of them, stopping to pull off his boots when they get in the way.

“How the hell do you sleep around so much in these?” Tommy mutters, finally prying Billy’s legs free and chucking his rumpled jeans across the room with an annoyed huff.

Billy snorts. “They don’t usually come off.”

“...Oh.” He feels, suddenly, like maybe he’s said too much. The way Tommy’s eyeing him makes him feel every inch of his bare skin on display. He’d sit up, make himself a little less vulnerable, but Tommy’s shifted positions, straddling his stomach. “Do you just do over the clothes stuff, then, or…”

“Don’t really get touched at all, actually. Easier to avoid getting hate-crimed that way.” He turns his face away, cheek brushing the carpet. 

Tommy nods, running a hand through his hair. “Shit, yeah. It’s…Carol’s the only girl I’ve ever been with, and sometimes she didn’t even wanna. Y’know.”

“Yeah, guys aren’t much better, trust me.”

“I know,” he says ruefully, smiling small. “I think maybe Carol only kept me around as long as she did because she couldn’t find any other guy willing to go down on her that much.” 

“Damn, and she still dumped you? So ungrateful.” 

“Ha, yeah, well. She found someone with a real dick apparently. Said she missed getting fucked properly, or whatever.” 

Billy scoffs, “Ten bucks says she comes crawling back in two weeks when she gets tired of being some prick’s fucktoy.” 

He tenses, regretting the thought the second he has it. Tommy’s gotten back with her every time she’s asked. She snaps her fingers and he’s there, hers again like nothing happened. As much as Billy hates watching it happen every time, he gets it. His track record when it comes to letting the people he loves hurt him isn’t any better. But this time…

Does he have any right to hope it’ll be different now? Probably not. 

Tommy raises his eyebrows, a guarded sort of curiosity behind his mostly blank expression. 

“Don’t take her back,” Billy says, softly, stupid, vulnerable hope cracking him open. He focuses on the feeling of Tommy’s slacks under his palms, warm thighs bracketing his torso. The rough scratch of carpet against his bare back. The smell of his musty dorm room. Anything but the way his stomach twists into knots while he waits to get shot down. “She’ll just break your heart again, man,” he adds, like he can cover his ass and make it look like this isn’t about what he wants at all. 

“And you won’t?” He’s quiet. Serious. There’s a sad twist to his mouth. 

“I—” The silence in the air between them is stifling, heavy in Billy’s lungs as his chest rises and falls. In some fucked up way that feels like an admission. An acknowledgement of…something. The idea that Billy might have the power to break his heart is fucking terrifying, and the implications make his head spin. He bites his lip. “Not by leaving.”

Tommy huffs out a dry laugh, bowing his head and giving it a tiny shake. “Gee, thanks.” He’s hiding a smile. A small one, but it’s warm, despite his hesitance. 

Billy grabs the front of Tommy’s shirt, tugging him down while he cranes his neck, meeting him halfway to press a brief kiss to his mouth.

It’s less brief than he planned. Tommy’s fingers end up wound in his hair, his firm grip making Billy’s scalp tingle and heat simmer under his skin. He groans, low in his throat, and licks into Tommy’s mouth in retaliation. 

Time starts to blur a little. He’s not thinking about why he kissed Tommy in the first place. He’s not thinking of stopping, god fucking forbid. All that matters is the sharp, biting pressure of fingernails, the gentle glide of warm lips against his, and the sounds he can pull from Tommy with a flick of his tongue. Everything else is sort of fuzzy. 

He tries nipping Tommy’s bottom lip. Lightly. Testing the waters. He inhales sharply, something like a gasp he caught halfway, and more importantly, his hips jerk forward. Just a little. But him pressing down against Billy’s stomach like that sets a fire inside. An immediate needy wanting that rushes through him like an adrenaline spike. 

Billy pulls back an inch, breathing hard, “Do it again,” he demands, clutching Tommy’s waist with guiding hands, “C’mon, c’mon.”

“Jesus—fuck,” Tommy’s nose brushes his cheek as he starts to move, curling into Billy’s space and panting bitten-off curses in puffs of humid air against his jaw. 

The seam of Tommy’s pants chafes a little, rubbing against the taut line of his stomach, catching on the light dusting of hair, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he can feel Tommy’s legs start to tremble, and he gets to watch the way his face goes slack with pleasure, his eyebrows furrowed as he works his hips back and forth.

It’s not hard to imagine sliding inside him like this. Tommy sitting on his cock, all wet heat and freckled thighs. Riding him ‘til his muscles give out and Billy has to take over, snap his hips over and over, listening to the slap of skin and Tommy’s pleading for more. 

Fuck.

His grip on Tommy’s waist tightens, right as he gives one last jerky thrust, and his whole body tenses. He whimpers right in Billy’s ear before his head drops, hitting his shoulder.

Billy feels like a live wire. He aches. He wants. 

He waits, with bottom lip caught between his teeth, squirming and hoping it’s not too obvious. 

“Sooo,” Tommy drawls, still catching his breath, his nose smushed to Billy’s collarbone. “D’you want me to blow you, or was that—”

“Fuck, yes.”

Tommy snickers. “Alright. Prepare to have your world rocked.”

“Oh, and my pick-up line was cheesy porno shit?”

“Yeah.”

“Dick.”

His shoulders shake with barely suppressed laughter, and Billy can feel his smile widen. He’d almost be content to bask in the moment like a cat in a sunbeam, except—

Tommy shifts, sliding a thigh between his legs and pressing, and yeah, that’s much better, nevermind. He lets out a slow, shaky breath, staring hazily at the water-stained ceiling. 

“You liked seeing me get off, huh.” Tommy kisses his chest, lips still curved into a smile. Billy swallows hard, and folds his lips between his teeth. “You soaked right through your underwear. I can feel it.” 

He’s making his way down way too slowly. On purpose, the little shit. But Billy refuses to crack. He can wait. It’s fine. He only feels a little bit like he’s going to explode.

Tommy replaces his thigh with his hand as he crawls backward, trailing a light finger over the growing wet spot and not doing nearly enough to ease the throbbing ache between Billy’s legs, his lips trail down, inch by agonizing inch as he goes. He’s got nice lips. Billy wouldn’t mind kissing him for hours. Being kissed. 

Being kissed somewhere very specific right fucking now.

Billy’s legs spread a little further apart, without really meaning to, he arches his back, wriggles, trying to subtly get Tommy where he needs to be a little faster. 

Except he fucking pauses. Kisses Billy’s hipbone. Flashes an absolutely shit-eating grin. 

“Would you hurry the fuck up,” Billy groans.

Which cracks Tommy up. A laugh he’d obviously been holding back bursts out of him, muffled a little as he leans into Billy’s stomach, his shoulders shaking. 

“I hate you so much.”

Tommy looks up at him, eyes shining. “Nah. You don’t.”

“Fine, but I’d like you a lot more if you stopped being a tease.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles, and finally, finally, settles between Billy’s legs, flashing a grin before he pushes Billy’s briefs aside and drags his tongue through the wetness underneath. 

“Jesusfuckingchrist—” Billy inhales sharply, his whole body arching into the sweet pressure of Tommy’s mouth, somehow ending up with one leg hooked around him, trying to pull him closer. “Oh fuck.”

A whine catches in his throat when Tommy huffs a laugh, warm air somehow feeling cool against his flushed skin. He’s beyond caring about looking desperate, he just needs more. More of this. He rocks against the steady stroke of Tommy’s tongue, his breath hitching every time he brushes his cock and a concentrated bolt of pleasure lances through him.

Then Tommy wraps his lips around it, and sucks, and Billy’s vision whites out. It feels so good it fucking hurts. He cries out, wordlessly, grasping for something to hold on to.

“Holy shit, dude,” Tommy breathes, pulling back, pulling away, what the fuck, no—

“Hng,” Billy grunts, his hands waving uselessly, trying to reach Tommy to put him back where he was. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs, a little breathless, a lot delighted. “Just…” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Billy’s underwear and starts tugging them off. “You’re so loud, man.”

The part of his brain that’s still working—the part that isn’t floating on a cloud of horny thoughts, mostly about how fucking pornographic Tommy’s mouth looks right now, pink, flushed, and slick from nose to chin—is smart enough to know that if he’s too loud they might get caught. But he’s having a hard time making himself care. And he’s sure he’ll care even less when Tommy puts his lips back where they fucking belong.

Then Tommy’s leaning over him, damp grey briefs folded up in one hand, easing Billy’s mouth open with the other.

He’s slow about it. Deliberate. Telegraphing his movements so Billy and the three brain cells he’s got left understand what he’a about to do. Billy could clench his jaw against his prodding at any time. He could turn his head to escape Tommy’s hold. 

But he doesn’t. 

The taste of his own sex isn’t unfamiliar, but it’s oddly thrilling in this context. It feels dirty in the best kind of way. Cotton sticking to his tongue, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth, Tommy’s gaze heavy on his parted lips. Billy wonders if he’s thinking about other things he could stuff Billy’s mouth with to shut him up. 

Biting down on creased fabric is odd, but it definitely muffles his whimpering. 

Which is, admittedly, handy when Tommy dives back in with no warning.

He doesn’t hold back at all, pressing in close, his hands gripping Billy’s hips to keep him in place. His tongue curls around Billy’s cock, over and over in firm swipes.

And Billy sees stars. He can hear his own stifled moaning through the makeshift gag, but he barely recognizes is own voice. Every pitched, breathy noise that comes out of him is a shock he doesn’t have time to linger on, and he doesn’t fucking care to, not when he can barely process how good he feels right now, let alone feel anything but Tommy’s mouth and the heat building under his skin. His whole body is taut with it, muscles tensing as he tries to hold onto the sparks dancing through him. 

It doesn’t take long for him to come with a hoarse shout and an embarrassing gush of wetness all over Tommy’s chin, white-knuckled and curled around Tommy’s sloped shoulders.

He flops back, breathing hard and staring, unseeing, at the ceiling.

“Holy shit,” Tommy says again, with something resembling awe. 

Billy closes his eyes, trying to measure the rise and fall of his chest. His whole body is tingling. And a little sore.

He feels a little tug, Tommy picking at the briefs stuffed into his mouth. He loosens his jaw and lets him remove them. There’s spit trickling down his cheek. Tommy wipes it up, carefully patting the side of his face. 

“You good?”

“Mhm,” Billy hums.

“...Been a while?”

He cracks an eye open and glances over at Tommy. His eyebrows are near his hairline, but it doesn’t look judgemental. A little amused, maybe. Billy sighs. “You could say that.”

“Oh?”

It’s been thirteen months since anyone’s touched him below the belt. He doesn’t remember who it was, but he remembers tequila and lime, hearing shitty dance music in another room while he let someone stick their hand in his pants, half-expecting it to retreat immediately. 

No one’s ever touched him like this, though. 

He runs his tongue across his bottom lip, unsure how to respond. He lands on, “Never been blown before.” 

Tommy blinks at him. “No shit?” His hand makes a weird aborted movement, then lands on the carpet next to him. Billy has the weird urge to hold it. Or to be held, maybe. As the sweat on his skin cools he starts to itch, an unfamiliar ache blooming in his chest.

“No shit,” he echoes.

“That’s…” Tommy scratches his eyebrow. “Kinda hot actually. I popped your cherry.”

“I’ve had sex.”

“Yeah, but not that kind.”

“...Whatever,” Billy mutters, his cheeks flushing.

“I’m serious, dude.” Tommy’s smiling now, his lips still shiny and pink and distracting. “That was, uh. Kind of awesome. All of it. Plus the cherry on top.”

He can’t help but snort, and smacks Tommy’s knee. “Fuck you, Hagan.”

“Maybe next time.”

That catches Billy’s attention. Whether it’s the promise of a next time or the thought of fucking him, he doesn’t know, but either way he’s suddenly unable to look anywhere but at Tommy. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tommy lifts his chin a little, like a challenge, but his eyes are warm. “You said you weren’t goin’ anywhere, so…”

“I meant it.”

He’s caught off guard by the almost bashful way Tommy ducks his head suddenly, the tips of his ears going red, hiding a widening smile. “Good.” He shuffles a little closer. “Though I get why you’d stick around. Y’know. After I rocked your world.”

Billy groans, and rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Nah, nah, I wanna hear you say it.”

“No.”

“Come ooon.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And good with my tongue.”

“Jesus Christ,” Billy mutters, “Okay, fine, you rocked my world. Congrats.”

Tommy preens, supremely pleased with himself, and pokes Billy’s shoulder. “Told you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Billy tries his hardest to look annoyed at the prodding, but fails to do anything but grin at the ceiling.

“Now, I seem to remember you promising to put some work in, and so far you’ve just been layin’ there.” The smug look on his face is absolutely out of control. Billy swats at him, but Tommy just catches his hand and kisses his palm, grinning like a fucking maniac. “Gotta do better than that, Hargrove.”

Billy tackles him, rolls them over, and pins Tommy’s hands above his head. 

And he puts some work in.

[imaginethathaikyuu]

kinktober - day 12

ukai keishin - public sex 

kinktober faq prompt list

*NSFW warning featuring sex in a public place, dirty talk, also lots of dialogue and probably too much story lmao* fem reader

- 

“Hello, Ukai!” 

“What are you doing here?!” 

“This is a convenience store and I needed a few things -”

“We’re closed, Y/N.” 

You glanced over your shoulder. “Huh. Weird. The sign still says open.” 

“Goddammit,” he said under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just get your tampons and get out.” 

“I don’t need tampons,” you replied. “I need dish soap. And rice. And cigarettes.” 

“Oh, you taking up smoking again?” 

“Yeah - my shitty boyfriend is driving me to give them another try.” 

You could hear his sigh from across the store. He brushed a hand through his hair, pulling off the headband keeping it in place. 

“You’re going to drive me to smoke something harder.”

“You can hardly handle smoking pot, babe.” 

He lit up a cigarette in hopes of it somehow drowning out your annoying voice. And you dropped your things onto the counter next to the register, looking up at him with a condescending grin. 

“Will that be all?” 

“That’s all.” 

“Thought you only needed rice,” he grumbled as he scanned your extra items. 

“Why do you care what I buy, Ukai?” 

“Will you stop calling me that? Your total is 17.82.” 

“What would you rather me call you while we aren’t on speaking terms?” 

He held his hand out for your money; you made sure to brush his hand with yours, he made sure to grasp the tip of your finger when he wrapped his hand around your cash. “I’d rather you not call me anything.”

“Got it.” 

He sighed again. He shouldn't have said that. But it was too late now - it had been said, and you were pissed. 

Rather, you were more pissed. And he didn’t even know what you’d spent two weeks being pissed about - which made him pissed. 

He bagged your things and said, “give me a few minutes and I’ll walk you home.” 

“No.” 

“I wasn’t asking you. I was telling you.” 

“Are you going to hold my hand when we cross the street, too?” 

“Depends, are you going to let me?” 

“No. And I don’t need you to walk me there.” 

“I don’t care,” he replied, pulling off his white apron. “It’s dark. And that dress is bordering on too revealing. You aren’t leaving here alone.” 

“I got here just fine by myself, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, and you shouldn’t have. Why didn’t you just call and tell me to bring you this shit -” 

“Why are you suddenly acting like you care, Ukai?” 

“You know I don’t like you walking alone at night -” he paused to draw from his cigarette, “you’re going to be the fucking death of me, Y/N.” 

“Right back at you.” You reached across the counter and grabbed your grocery bag. “I’ll be leaving now. I’ll make sure to go to a different store from now on.” 

“No, Y/N,” he said, reaching across to grab your wrist. “You aren’t going to do that. And you aren’t walking home alone.” 

“You aren’t my father -”

“You’re really pissing me off, Y/N, just stay here!” 

“What do I get out of doing that?”

He dropped your wrist. “I dunno. Stay and find out.”

As he sat down in his stool, he tossed you his pack of cigarettes. You pulled one out and used a lighter from the stand on the counter light it. 

“If you would have been doing your job and locked up on time, I wouldn’t have been able to come in.” 

He sat back in his chair, propping his feet up on the counter. “Yeah, well, maybe I was hoping you’d stop by.” 

You scoffed, “I’m sure you were just thrilled at the thought of seeing me.” 

“You obviously came here on purpose -”

“And I won’t make that mistake again,” you said as you walked around the counter to grab the ash tray that sat on the table behind Ukai. 

He gave you a heavy glare, one you couldn’t look away from as you ashed your cigarette. 

“Look,” he started, pulling his feet down to sit up straight. “Can you just drop it, please?” 

“Drop what?” 

“Your mood. Whatever it is that we’re fighting over. Can’t you just let it go?” 

“Don’t you have work to be doing?” 

“Nope.” 

You rolled your eyes and put out the last half of your cigarette in the ashtray. “Well I’m ready to go home, and I’m leaving with or without you.” 

“No, you aren’t,” he replied, grabbing your arm and pulling you back to face him. He was smirking up at you - god dammit, he was handsome. “And I’m not ready to go yet.” 

“You’re annoying.” 

“You just realizing that?” he smirked. His hand slid down to catch your hand in his. “I don’t care how annoyed you are - I’m not leaving until we kiss and make up.” 

“Pass.” 

“Pass?! You mean you don’t want to kiss this face?” 

“No, I don’t - and you can stop trying to make me laugh.” 

“That is definitely not what I’m doing,” he replied. “I just don’t want you to be angry anymore. Honestly, you’re really annoying when you’re mad, and I really hate sleeping alone.” 

You tugged your hand out of his, “I’m sure you do.” 

“It’s true! You’ve been sleeping in my bed since high school, Y/N - it feels different when there isn’t a you sized lump behind me.” 

You didn’t have anything to say back - honestly, he made a good argument. You didn’t like sleeping alone either, although you definitely weren’t going to tell him that. 

“I know you miss me too - you don’t have a good poker face, Y/N.” 

“I’m not dropping it,” you retorted. 

“Do you even remember what we’re fighting over?” 

Shit. 

“I… duh, of course I do.” 

“Then do you care to jog my memory?” 

When you didn’t reply, he didn’t hesitate to stand up while snickering at you. 

“That’s what I thought. Now come here - one kiss and we’ll be all made up.” 

“I’m not forgiving you that easily,” you mumbled. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to your grumpy ass. As soon as you remember what the hell you’re even mad about.” 

His big hands came up to rest on either side of your face and then he pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips - and he didn’t care that you weren’t bothering to kiss him back. 

“That’s better,” he mumbled. “I’ve missed kissing you so much.” 

“I bet.” 

“I have,” he said. “And I’ve missed doing other things even more.” 

“Why are you always so dirty -”

“Not always! I’m just saying, the offer is on the table…”  

“You want to do it now?!” 

“I mean... I have been staring at your ass since you walked in.”

“Of course you have - hey!”

His hand clapped down on your ass, grabbing himself a handful and interrupting whatever the hell you were saying. 

“What if I make it up to you right now?” 

“Here?” 

“Where else? Turn around for me.” 

You turned around. “I don’t know - your bedroom that’s literally right upstairs - Keishin!” 

“I can’t wait that long,” he retorted after slapping your ass once again. “We’re the only ones down here, so why not?” 

“Because anyone could walk in.” 

It was too late for you to make arguments - Keishin already had himself pressed up against you, and he was hard. 

“Just let me fulfill my fantasy of fucking you over this counter, okay?” 

“This is your fantasy?” you snorted, hiking your dress up for him. 

“One of them.” He pushed you to bend over the counter as he unzipped his pants. “I’ll be quick, don’t worry.” 

“I’m sure you’ll cum as fast as always - don’t forget a condom.” 

“I’m wearing one, calm down,” he said as he was rolling it on - he pulled it from his wallet. “I learned my lesson last month.” 

“Good, now hurry before anyone walks in.” 

He pressed kisses to your neck as he said, “Is this what you came here for, Y/N?”

“Maybe.” 

“I can tell. You could’ve worn less incriminating panties, you know.” 

You smirked to yourself - you wore his favorite pair, just in case. 

Keishin pulled the thin fabric to the side just enough to slide himself into you slowly - you felt his warm breath on your shoulder as he filled you. 

“God, I’ve missed you,” he said with a grin. “My hand just isn’t the same.” 

“My vibrator does a pretty good job.” 

“Bullshit,” he breathed. His pace was slow and steady - just like he loved it. 

“Well… it doesn’t talk, so it’s already got one up on you.” 

“What, you don’t like my dirty talk, baby?” 

That nickname was absolutely your weakness. His voice was so deep and throaty; his words were matter of fact. There was just something about the way he addressed you that way, speaking directly to you that made your knees go weak. 

Even though you had been with the man since high school, the flame he lit in your heart was still burning - though you hated to admit it, because he never stopped teasing you for it.  

“Just go harder, Keishin,” you demanded, and he obeyed with a short nod. He reached around you to brace himself on the counter so he could thrust as hard as he knew you needed him to. 

“I’ve missed this so much, fuck,” Keishin moaned. “I told you I’d be quick.” 

“You’re always quick,” you replied. 

“I won’t cum ‘til you do, I’m not impolite.” 

“If you can make me cum.” 

You heard him scoff - and knew you had pushed him far enough when his thrusts got harder, faster, deeper. And fuck, it felt good. Partnered with his familiar deep moans, you knew you were a goner. 

You were putty in his hands - both of you knew that. 

“Imagine if someone walked in right now, baby… imagine the look on their face when they walked in on this beautiful girl being fucked over the counter - fuck, this is so hot.” 

“Keishin… please,” you begged - and you didn’t even know what you were begging for. 

“You better hurry and cum,” he taunted, “you don’t want to get caught, do you? Cum for me, baby.” 

His thrusts were strong, his moans were ragged, his words were way too hot - you couldn’t take it. You’ve needed this for two weeks now, and there was absolutely no holding back your orgasm. 

“Yes, cum for me - god, I’m cumming, too, fuck, Y/N!” 

It felt perfect. Truth be told your vibrator was no where near good enough - nothing was good enough but him, nothing and no one else could make you feel this amazing. You didn’t think the feeling would ever end - your body was screaming for him, you were moaning his name over and over and over, the fire he’d lit in your heart was spreading everywhere. 

When his movements stopped, you began calming down - and his voice pulled you above water.

“God, it feels good to not be fighting.” 

Your response was a nod as you forced yourself to stand up straight after he pulled out. Your back strained, your knees were weak, and you could hardly hold your eyes open. 

Keishin pulled your underwear up for you and gave you a kiss on your forehead. 

“Nice to have you back,” he said with a wink. “Wait here ‘til I lock up.” 

“Can’t I just wait for you in bed?” 

“Who said you could stay over?” 

You scoffed as he chuckled to himself, and you hopped up on the counter to wait for him. Looking down at his pack of cigarettes that sat next to you, you found yourself in deep thought. And then… 

“I remembered what we’re fighting over.”

- 

tune in tomorrow for kinktober day 13: intercural sex 

[fanf1cshawn]

broken promises

sooo uh hey everyone! this imagine was inspired by a prompt i saw on a post that i reblogged and it’s my first time doing angst soooo i hope ya’ll like it. ~

——————

4 - “why can’t you look at me?”

———————

warnings: swearing and sexual connotations.

————————

it all started from coming home late from the studio. always coming home at the double digits of the night. he always reasoned with you that he wanted the album to be perfect, so you let it slip the first few times.

then it turned into coming home at midnight. he came home exhausted majority of the time, you unable to wait for him to come home. the dinners you made were always left untouched, or worse, you saw it dumped inside the trash.

you came home from work a bit later today, since there were tons of things to do. you inserted the key into the keyhole, wishing that if you opened the door your boyfriend would be right there, waiting for you.

the door slowly opened and you must have been so tired that you didn’t even hear the low mumbling of your boyfriend in his office. you were a bit disappointed that he wasn’t there to welcome you with a warm hug, but you didn’t mind since it was rare for him to come home earlier than you anyways.

you quickly kick off your heels, sprinting to the office as fast as you can. he was on the phone with someone, but you couldn't make out who he was talking to.

“hey.” you leaned against the doorframe, getting no response. maybe your voice was too quiet for him to hear. you come closer and put your hands on his shoulders, feeling him tense up. he quickly turned around, surprised to see you. his body calmed down and he sighed in relief. he ended the phone call and stood up to wrap you in his arms.

“yo, y/n. didn’t notice you were already home.” it felt... weird. something was up. he gave you a crooked smile and sat right back down on his office chair.

“have you eaten yet?” you ask, so you could make dinner just in case he was hungry.

“uh, yeah. i ate out with the guys today, hope you don’t mind.” he rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling lowly.

“oh. yeah, that’s alright bub.” you reply softly, feeling your heart sink.

“i’ll be in the kitchen if you need something.” you said, thinking that it was going to be another night of eating alone again, even with him being home. you head out to kitchen, heating up the meal you made the you made for shawn the other day, since you knew that he was never going to eat it anyways.

the sound of the microwave heating the food was the only thing heard, ‘til you heard heavy footsteps approach the front door.

“shawn?” you raise your brows, surprised to see him leave again.

“i’ll be heading out for a bit, is that okay with you?” he was rushing to put on his boots, as if he someone was waiting for him.

“but didn’t you just say that you ate out with the guys earlier?” you question. the guys haven’t hung out this much in the past few days, since the guys usually came over if they wanted to hang out.

“last minute plans, they wanna go out clubbing.” he laughs. it sounded convincing, but the thought of him hiding something from you popped up in your head. you shrugged the idea off and sighed. he would never do that to you, he promised.

“uh, sure. have fun!” he took a quick glance at his phone and left without saying goodbye.

that was the last straw.

the moment your food was finished heating, you swallowed your food quickly and searched for shawn’s macbook in his office. the past few weeks you couldn’t help but notice how he was always waiting for a certain message on his phone, making his hand glued to the device.

you opened the macbook and typed in his password, since you always tell each other passwords and codes. icloud syncs on every apple device he owns, and the mac was one of them.

you click on the imessage icon and there you saw everything. the last thing you wanted to see ever from that device. you didn’t know how to feel. shocked, sad, heartbroken?

you scroll through the messages between him and a girl named allison. your jaw drops and your heart sinks for every single word you read from their most recent conversation.

a: are you leaving soon?

: i’m wearing your favorite pair tonight, can’t wait to see you later. 😉

s: fuck babe, i’ll leave as soon as i can. trying to escape from my girlfriend haha

a: lmao why are you still with her anyways, i thought she wasn’t good enough?

s: ‘cause she thinks i still care about her and it’s hard to tell her that i really don’t.

: besides, keeping you a secret is more fun anyways. that way we can do more stuff together. more thrilling than being in the public eye you know?

a: true tho. anyways, see you soon!

you scoff. why haven’t you thought of doing this before? why only now?

although you shouldn’t read the conversations of other people without their knowledge, you didn’t feel bad for reading theirs. not even a single bit.

your grew more pissed when you read through their conversation, finding out that it’s been going on for about 3 months.

you take photos of the convo on your phone to post them on twitter.

tweet by you:

hey @ShawnMendes, hope you have a lot of fun with the guys tonight!

(insert photos of convo)

your finger was on top of the tweet button, but you stopped yourself for a second. should i really do this? you chew on your bottom lip and shrugged. i should.

you press tweet and the tweet spread like wildfire. in just a few minutes, there were already headlines all around social media: Canadian Pop-star Shawn Mendes caught cheating on current girlfriend Y/N, caught by the girlfriend herself!

you go around twitter and saw that Shawn Mendes was trending on twitter and that they even made him a hashtag called #ShawnMendesIsCancelledParty. you laugh as you imagine your now ex-boyfriend’s face, reading the numerous articles and tweets.

you start packing a bag full of clothes when you hear your phone blow off with hundreds of notifications. notifications turned into phonecalls end you exactly knew who was calling you. you never picked up, so you just went on with packing more and more stuff.

you zip up the huge bag and walk into the living room, placing it beside the couch. you decided to wait for shawn to hear his nonsense explanations and what not. the sound of the keys was the only thing heard and when the door swung open there he stood, frozen and pale like he had just seen a ghost in the living room. his eyes were glued to random things in the room, as he kept fidgeting with the end of his shirt.

“so, how did it go? did you finish because of how tight brian was?” you stood up slowly, grabbing the handle of the bag. the sarcasm in your voice ringing in his ears.

“i said, how did it go?” a stern tone left your lips and you started approaching him. you eyed him up and down and to him, your eyes felt like daggers stabbing through him. he didn’t know what to say at that moment, didn’t know what dumb explanation to give you. the words were scrambled in his mind and he couldn’t make up anything.

“i-i swear i didn’t mean it. i was about to break up with her anyways.” he mutters out, voice low that you almost didn’t hear a single thing he said. you laugh loudly, clapping your hands in amusement.

“look at me, shawn.” he didn’t look.

“look at me, shawn.” you repeated, but louder. still, he didn’t move a single bit. he was still eyeing something in the kitchen, except for you.

“why can’t you look at me?!” you screamed, grabbing his chin and turning it for him to finally face you. his eyes were full of misery and the corner of his lips were low.

“after the past three years, shawn, three fucking years.” the tears were about to brim your eyes but you did your best to hold it in.

“i have genuinely loved and cared for you but all you do in return... is cheat? what about that promise you made me three years ago when you asked me to be your girlfriend, huh? you said that you’ll love me and do your best not to hurt me... and you still cheated.” you breathe heavily as you start to feel your throat hurt from holding back all the tears.

“turns out promises are just promises. made to never fulfill.” you brought your hand right across his left cheek, the sound of your hand hitting his face ringing in the room. you left, pushing him aside harshly, sprinting to the elevator as fast as you can.

shawn didn’t run. he couldn’t bring himself to do it. he slammed the door shut and was quiet for a few moments.

he realized how dumb he was for doing such a thing, and he regretted everything. your words ran through his mind over and over again, and you were right. you were always right.

shawn’s tears were streaming down his face and he leaned on the door, sliding down slowly. his long fingers ran through his hair and he tried to catch his breath.

he remembered how tight he held your hands and how he looked deeply into your eyes with love three years ago.

he cried even more because he knew he was stupid, and because of his stupidity, it caused you, the greatest treasure of his life, to leave him all alone.

[afxckingdaydream]

I Stopped Sleeping For This *Frat!L.H.*

A/N: @talkfastmari requested a frat!luke fic, I’m sorry it took forever *like, months lmao*! I’ve also never been to any type of party and I’ve never drank so I wouldn’t know any of the stuff about partying/drinking. I’m honestly not a fan of this fic, I feel like I could’ve done better. Kinda disappointed in myself for this one ngl.

Word Count: 2,224

Synopsis: You end up going to a frat party and meet a certain someone.

"Y/n!" My roommate, Jane, shouted as she barged into my room. "Get your ass up, we have somewhere to go!" She tore the blankets off my bare legs and turned my bedroom light on. 

"Dude," The corners of my eyes wrinkled from squinting due to the light, I cover my face with a pillow and let out a muffled, "it's 12 AM. Could we get arrested for whatever you're up to? Cause I'm not down."

Jane huffs and rolls her eyes out of annoyannce, "We're going to a frat party that's on campus. You never know if you could meet a special someone!” She ended with a sing songy voice, “Are you coming or what?" She takes off my pillow that's been on my eyes and tosses it onto the soft shaggy rug. 

"Do I have a choice?" I look at her with my eyes furrowed and sit up against the headboard, while putting the blankets back on my legs. 

Jane turns on her heels towards my doorway and replies with a blunt, "Nope!"

--

As we walked down the street, a couple blocks from our dorm, we could hear the music blaring from the fraternity’s speakers. The air reeked of cigarettes and liquor. It only got worse as we got closer. My nose and eyebrows crinkled from the intense smell that was cancer in a stick and liver problems in a bottle. 

I look over to Jane and I see her grinning with glee, she’s in her element. I for one, am not, I’ve never been a party person. This whole situation I’m in is sort of cliché; the outgoing, extraverted, partier friend forces the silent, introverted, reserved friend into going to a party that people get drunk at and have sex in other people’s rooms, not having a care in the fucking world. 

“My feet are already hurting from walking in these heels and its only been 10 minutes.” Jane explains as she stops to take them off. I take a pause in my stride to wait on her for a couple seconds.

“Why’d you wear those anyways? It’s not like we’re on the way to a club.” I chuckle and once she’s done, I continue walking. 

“Well unlike you, I’m actually trying to get with someone tonight. Maybe potentially date that someone, potentially marry that someone, and potentially have kids with that someone.” She gives a breathy laugh and we both head towards to the walkway that leads to the already open double doors of the white fraternity house. The shouting and music were almost deafening as we strolled to the backyard.

All the sudden I see a drunken frat brother on the roof of the white, modern house jumping off into the pool, screaming, “Geronimo!” and then just slightly making it to the pool and almost onto the concrete. A collective gasp could be heard around yard and back porch with a pause afterwards. “I’m good!” The frat brother shouts as everyone cheers and whistles. 

I sigh and run my hands through my hair, “It’s not a party ‘til someone almost fucking dies…” I mutter to myself with my arms crossed uncomfortably. 

“What the fuck, you guys!” I look behind me to see an ocean eyed man with shaggy golden hair wearing a Nirvana muscle tee with some swimming trunks, “I swear, I’m the backbone of this damn household!” He scolded some of his frat brothers in frustration. 

I giggle and he looks over at me, “I don’t need your judgement.” He says with a brow and smirked.

“Oh, I’m not judging at all! I too think it’s chaotic. A friend dragged me here, and I stopped sleeping for this. This isn’t exactly my scene, you know?” I rock back and forth on my heels and look up through my lashes, waiting for an answer.

“It’s actually not mine either,” He chuckles, “I would much rather have the whole place quiet and organized. What’s your name?” He asks.

“Y/n, yours?” Damn, he sure is gorgeous. 

He tucks his hair back behind his ears. My cheeks flush with a slight pink tint and I look down at my shoes. “My name is Luke. Luke Hemmings.”

“Well nice to meet you, Luke. Do you wanna sit and chat? Believe it or not, I don’t know anybody here besides my roommate, and you seem pretty rad.” I give him a shy smile and glance over to two lawn chairs facing each other beside the pool.

“Oh yeah, sure. Let’s go to the front porch though. It’s kinda hard to hear over here anyways.” He takes his hand in mine and leads me through the house filled with drunken people. His hand is warm and comforting, it made me feel at ease in the ocean of drunkards.

“Y/n!” I stop in my tracks and look behind me, it was a wasted Jane sitting on the couch with her feet lying on the ottoman, “Where are you going, girl?!” She then saw Luke holding my hand, she gasped and quickly got up to whisper in my ear, “Who’s that? How long have you known him? Omg! Are you guys dating and you haven’t told—” 

I cut her babbling off and explain to her, “Woah! Slow your roll! We literally just met, so chill. We’re just gonna go on the front porch to talk, it’s no biggie.” I take a strand of her blonde locks and put them behind her ear. “How many drinks have you had?” I question her empathetically.  

“Just 2 beers is all.” She said whilst looking at me straight in the eyes, nonchalantly like it was nothing. 

“It’s crazy how much of a lightweight you are. You’re really drunk right now, and I don’t think you’re even gonna remember this.” I let go of Luke’s hand to take Jane’s and lead her back to the couch to sit her down while Luke follows me. 

“I’m not drunk, you’re just blurry.” She stated nonchalantly, sitting down on the leather couch. 

I giggle and then sigh at the plastered girl, “Okay, whatever you say…” I lie her down and take Luke’s hand again. He leads me through the crowd. We finally got to the front porch and I see some white rocking chairs. I go over to one of them and sit, Luke takes the other.

“She’s something, huh?” he asked, looking over at me laughing.

“Yeah, definitely. I don’t know what I’m gonna do with her.” I grin at him. Just sitting with him and chatting was a nice change of scenery from the noise booming in the house or just sitting on my bed studying for hours on end.

I gaze at the night sky and stare at it. The moon and all the stars are so breathtaking. 

Out of the blue Luke chimes, “You’re adorable, ‘ya know?”

I look over at him and his grin and giggle, “Oh stop!” I retorted.

His eyes widened, “No seriously, I mean it! I mean, look at you! When you were staring at the stars it was adorable how fascinated you were. You’re just a beautiful as them.” He gives me a soft smile while looking me in the eyes. A faint shade of pink flushes my cheeks and I look away. 

“You’re too sweet…” I said softly, and then I noticed that I know absolutely nothing about him. I look up at him and ask, “Hey… are you passionate about anything? Like, what do you like to do?” 

His eyes twinkled and he spoke a tad fast out of excitement, “Oh yea definitely! Music is very important to me. I play some guitar; I sing a little. Me and my mates are thinking about starting a band!” The way he spoke was so passionate and energetic. 

“Really? That’s so cool! You guys should definitely start a band! You think of any band names yet?” I ask in interest.

“We’re thinking something along the lines of  ‘3 Minutes of Spring’. We’re still working out all the stuff that goes along with being a band.” He smiles widely. 

I started thinking about what a good name for their band would be… and then I had an epiphany! “Oh! What do you think of the name ‘5 Seconds of Summer’…?” Hm. It has a nice ring to it. I’m a genius, just saying…

Luke thinks about the name for a couple seconds, his eyebrows furrowed, and puts his hands on his mouth covering it as comes to the conclusion of, “Yes! That’s it! That’s so much better than all of the names we were thinking. I’ll make sure to ask the guys if they like the name. I’m sure they’ll love it though.” He expressed and smiles gently at me. His smile could light up a room. Pearly white and shiny.  He looks of innocence and as if there’s nothing wrong in the world. His curly tresses get in the way of his sparkling eyes and he swoops it back into place. “So,” he starts, relieving the awkward tension I made from not saying anything, “are you in a sorority here? I think I’d remember you if you were. You don’t seem like the sorority type.” He cocks his head to the side whilst asking the question.

“Nope, I just live in a dorm with that girl you saw that was drunk. It’s only a couple blocks away from here. Nothing special.” I shrug my shoulders. 

There was a sudden silence that was weirdly comfortable. All of the commotion seemed to fade away when he was there. I’ve known him for only an hour and we’re acting as if we’d known each other for forever. 

“You know… we could go over to your dorm...” Once he realized that it sounded like he wanted to get in my pants, he quickly refrained and swatted his hands back and forth, “N-not to do anything! Just to hang out without all the people!”

“No, I understand what you’re saying,” I give out a breathy laugh, “but I would have to take Jane back with us. I can’t leave her here with people we barely know. Not everyone is nice like you and someone could take advantage of her. I’d feel like if that were to happen, it’d be my fault. I feel like we should leave anyways. She’s had one too many.” I shrug my shoulders and look down whilst getting up from my chair. “You coming?” 

Luke gets up from his chair and takes my hand in his, “Let’s go.” He says with a smirk. 

As we’re walking into the foyer, I see a frat dude with a drink in his hand, harassing Jane, who’s almost passed out and slurring her words to him. “Get off of m-me.” She pushed the man off.

“C’mon babyyy! Just come with meeee! Let’s go to my room upstairs!” he whines and tries to pick her up by the waist. 

I shoved the man off of her onto the floor as my blood boils with anger and frustration, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, jackass? Do you know what ‘no’ means?” I shouted.

Suddenly the music stopped and everyone at the party stared, but honestly at this moment in time, I couldn’t give less of a shit. I looked at everyone then gave the man a dirty look, “Answer me!” I pulled the collar of his shirt.

“Woah! You’re crazy, lady!” He yanked my hands off of him and his sneakers make a squeak sounds against the wooden floors as he raced away from us. I rolled my eyes.

“C’mon Jane, let’s go home.” I say with a pout on my features. I pick her up by her arm and help her up. I look back at Luke “Are you coming with us, Luke? Or are you staying here?”

“Um, I guess I’m coming with you guys.” He gets on the other side of Jane and helps you help her up. 

On the way out the door, a frat bro taps Luke on the shoulder and asks quizzically, “You’re going with her? She just attacked one of our bros and you’re just gonna not say or do anything? You’re just gonna betray us like that? Go with the enemy?” The bro furrows his brows and Luke turns around to face him.

Luke stares in the guy’s eyes for a second and says, “Yea, and what about it?”

We both walked out of the house with Jane in our arms and went to my dorm. 

--

I put Jane to bed and wiped her make up off.  Turning towards the doorway, I see Luke and I walk to him.

“Well I guess you can leave now that we got home safely. I had a really good time tonight.” I get on my tippy toes and kiss him on the cheek. 

“I’m glad I could get to know you a little bit tonight. Maybe we could go on a date at some point…?” He smirked that little smirk of his and lick his lips whilst looking at mine.

“I would love to… The coffee shop in the center of the campus at 2pm tomorrow?”

“Definitely,” he glances at my lips once more and then his places his on mine. “see you there.”

“See you…” Then he walks away.

My blush is definitely noticeable. 

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Ice Cold Betrayal (Phantom x fem!Reader)

This is just an idea I had for a Phantom x fem!Reader! Meer wanted me to post it so here y’all go~! 

I didn’t clean this up or edit it at all lmao we die like men!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

like okay my idea is what if anti wanted to cause some mayhem so he faked some pics of him getting frisky with phantom's s/o. and they looked REAL.�� mostly because anti got a mimic demon he knows to shift into s/o's form for this shit.  and he went to phantom and showed him and laughed in his face and then bailed but phantom was furious. he'd been very busy the last month or so but you'd said you'd understood and he'd trusted you but then he finds out you cheated on him (u didn't tho) and he sorta just...snaps. he doesn't think he just reacts.

he ports into your shared penthouse and you smile when you see him and that just upsets him more and now you're worried because he looks really upset but before you can ask what's wrong he grabs you by your hair. you yelp when he drags you off the couch, you scream for him to stop but he ignores you and a split second later you're no longer in your suite, instead you're outside on the street behind his hotel. the freezing chill of the city winter has you shaking instantly, this not helped by how you were in just a comfy t-shirt and sleep pants (you had just been relaxing at home)

he dropped you onto the ground and you shakily stood up, shivering you look up at him in confusion 

 "Phantom what the hell-" 

he cuts you off with a snarl that has you stepping back in fear, actual fear. he tells you that you're banned from any and all businesses he owns or even partially owns and if you know whats good for you then you'll stay away. you're confused and hurt and ask him what's going on, why's he upset. he scoffs 

"Don't play dumb. You know what you did, and you know I don't allow cheaters in my establishments. Now kindly fuck off for the rest of your life." 

and then in a blink he's gone and you're left half dressed outside on the street in the dead of winter.

all the shops within like a 30 block radius are at least partially owned by phantom. the man has his fingers in a lot of pies and he alerted each and every one that you were not to be served or even allowed entrance. so there's not even anywhere you can go in to warm up. nowhere to get food or water either. you have your phone on you but you check it and see phantom cancelled the minutes (he paid for it so) you're stuck with nowhere to go, no way to call your family, and no money or shelter for the night.

well you've no way to do anything except for try to find somewhere to stay for the night and after getting glares from the couple shops you passed you decided it wasn't worth it to try going in. so with nowhere else to go (and your feet freezing) you shuffled as fast as you could to the nearby park where you curled up under the bridge that went over the bike trail. it was the only cover you could find. it started snowing soon after you settled into your spot.

you were out there for hours. you couldn't feet your hands, feet, nose, or cheeks. not to mention the fact that you were drifting in and out of consciousness. you vaguely heard a ringing sound but you were too out of it to think hard about where it was coming from. 

a bit earlier mare smoke traveled into phantoms place looking for you both. he'd tried texting you and then calling you but he got a 'this phone is no longer in service' message that had him confused.

he looks around, no you? but he finds phantom sitting in your shared bedroom drinking whiskey. he walks in and asks where you are and he's been calling for ages. that’s when phantom unloads the whole thing onto mare and mare just listens silently. mare lets him finish then silence sits between them both for a minute before mare asks  

"And when did this all happen? Like when did anti say this happened?" 

phantom says on so and so date three days ago and mare tells phantom he's stupid. phantom looks up from his drink and mare looks pissed, eyes black and the tear tracks under them black as well.

"I know anti's full of shit cuz she was with me then. We spent the day pulling pranks then we came back here and binged The Office til she fell asleep." 

dread starts to fill phantoms gut. mare starts screaming at him, his form half smoke as he calls phantom every shitty thing in the book, demanding to know where he left you. 

"Where'd you leave her asshole?! I've gotta find her so where'd you dump her, huh?!"

it's a huge scream fest but phantom pulls his phone out and makes a call and soon your phone is back to normal and he starts calling you over and over but you don’t answer. that makes them both nervous so phantom has his tech person track the GPS on your phone. you didn't get far. they see you're about 10 blocks down at the park. 

"SHE'S AT THE FUCKING PARK?! IN 20 DEGREE WEATHER!?" 

 mare is...upset.

well they find you, huddled under a bridge and passed out, and the skin on your face/hands/feet looks red. needless to say they take to to the ER. you're rushed in and they have to wait to see if you're okay. some time later a doc comes out and calls the two and tells them you've got the beginning stages of pneumonia and mild frostbite on your toes, a few fingers, and your ears. thankfully you weren't exposed to the cold long enough for the frostbite to be severe enough to need amputation but the doc says you'll need to stay in observation until you were in the clear.

things are...stilted when you wake up later. 

mare explains what happened (phantom is too ashamed to say anything) you don’t say anything for a time until finally you just say, 

"I'll stop by and pick up my stuff once they discharge me." 

oh boy that whips phantom into action 

“What, why? You don't have to do that." 

but you refuse to look at him. 

"No, I think I do. You made it clear that I'm no longer welcome there. I'll go stay at a friend's or something til I can get a job so I can support myself again." 

phantom tells you he's sorry for being so gullible and to please not leave. you don't want to hear it really. this whole thing was a freezing cold wake up call.

"Phantom when we started dating I had a job and my own place. And over time you convinced me I didn't need that job and you could support me and soon after you and I moved in together."

"....I completely relied on you and your support. Fuck...you even pay for my phone."

"I trusted you more than anyone else. And at the first shitty doctored photo you cut me off like a diseased limb and threw me out on the street like wet garbage. You didn't even let me try to explain my side."

"...I just....I can't rely so heavily on someone like that anymore. Not after last night. I have to stand on my own two feet. They're the only support I can unwaveringly trust it seems."

he says he understands he messed up bad but pleads with her not to just leave. he says she can stay at his hotel if she needs. but she stares down at the blanket in her lap and sighs. 

"I just...need to have my own space right now. The...level of trust you had in me apparently wasn't on the same level as what I had in you so I think some time apart will be good for us. I just...I need to think, Phantom." 

i’m not sure she'd agree to get back together with him tbh

if she did agree to try again, things are clearly different. before he would sometimes just spoil her with fancy dates and gifts and she'd shyly accept them. but now they make her uncomfortable at best. she no longer appreciates expensive gifts and would prefer having her own place. she also got a job and gave him back his cell phone and got her own. and it hurts him every time she winces when he buys her something. each frown she gives is a stark reminder of his catastrophic fuck up.

she accepts the stuff he gets her, begrudgingly. 

but he pops over to her place one day to pick her up for a date and she's still in the shower so he explores her apartment. it's small, but tidy. he goes into her room and stops when he sees the stuff he gave her. all sat neatly by her closet, all unopened and unused. 

he knew it wasn't because she didn't like the stuff. it was all stuff she'd desired but he knew in his heart she didn't trust him enough to use or wear any of it and that hurt more than he thought it would. he knew it was all sat like that, ready to give back to him, should he do something stupid like before.

i think things would slowly start to get closer to where they were before after one night phantom drinks a bit too much and actually cries all over s/o, telling her he's so sorry for hurting her like this and wishing he could go back to stop it but he cant. how she's gonna be hurt forever because of his shitty anger and she didn't deserve that and he doesn't deserve her but he loves her and he trusts her even if he was shit at proving it and if she gives him another chance then he swears he'll do everything he can to prove he deserves her love again.

s/o before then had never seen phantom cry, not even the night she almost got frostbite so this was a bit jarring. then she feels sad because this has apparently been eating away at him for a very long time. and despite her...more self sufficient behavior she really has forgiven him. she still wants to keep her job and pay for her own necessities but aside from that she's happy to start over with him so the next day, 

after he's gotten past his headache, she comes in wearing a red dress he bought her. he's like 'you're wearing it?' and she just smiles and kisses his cheek and asks him if he wants to go on a date. they end up getting some dinner at one of his clubs.

yeah it's gonna take a lot of time and effort on both of their ends, and communication but i think they can salvage their relationship.

~~~~~~~~~~

Here just thought maybe some of y’all might wanna see this!

@smolwash @sunrisehoneybee @sierracolorstheworldofwords @tiny-yan-anon

[jishyucks]

Better Late than Never | Lee Jeno

[The title lowkey goes with the story but not really lmao]

Summary: The reader is late for a school field trip. Once getting on the bus, they have no choice but to sit in the last seat available, next to ‘No-fun’ Jeno

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: a bit of swearing

Honestly, you weren’t the biggest fan of running. It was literally too much effort just to get to a place quicker than usual. For that reason, you always planned everything beforehand and got used to getting places earlier. It was a simple solution. Today was a different story.

Usually, getting to school wasn’t a huge problem. Your body clock always woke you up on time and you had your phone’s alarm just in case but for some reason, on this day of all days, your body somehow ignored both your mental and real alarm and decided to sleep in for two extra hours. Now you were running around the house stressed about fixing yourself and your lunch. Today was the day of a very relevant field trip that your teacher had constantly reminded your class even two months before date, and now you were running late. You mentally smacked yourself as you hurriedly got ready. The walk to your school was about 10 minutes, so that could easily turn into a 5 minute sprint.

Turning your head towards a clock in your kitchen, your eyes widened at the time. The bus for the trip would leave at 7 and it was 6:50. A string of swears left your mouth as you stuck on whatever pair of shoes was sitting outside of the closet, grabbed your house keys and practically flew through the door. There was no time to waste.

The beat of your heart started to pick up in pace just as your feet did. Your bag bounced up and down as you briskly passed every house on your block. Turning left, you tightened your grip on your phone and checked the time on it for reassurance. 6:55. Shit. For some damn reason, your legs automatically started quickening as if they knew that you were in need for the speed. You felt like fucking Dash from the Incredibles. 

In a matter of minutes, you began to see a clear view of your school and the travel bus sitting by the front steps. Your biology teacher waited at the front of the bus staring you down as if she knew which direction you lived. On her face was a blunt expressions of you’re fucking late and you returned it with the look that said I know I’m sorry. 

When you finally got to the bus, you hopped on and quickly apologized to your entire class for running late when you all could’ve left earlier for the 2 hour bus ride. No one really cared though. They just continued their conversations with the people around them. 

Your eyes wandered around the bus in search for your friends. A small appeared on your lips before pressing them into a thin line. There were no seats anywhere near your friends. There were barely any seats. The only one left that was not beside the teacher was beside Lee Jeno.

A sigh escaped your lips. Great, you thought, The only seat left is beside ‘no fun’ Jeno. Two hours of pure nothing. And you sure didn’t want to sit near your teacher either. The soles of your shoes squeaked as you approached the seat which was near the back. Jeno hadn’t noticed you approaching yet as he was immersed with something on his phone. 

“Mind if I sit here?” You questioned quietly, “There aren’t any seats left.” The tips of your fingers ran over the rough straps of your backpack multiple times. You seriously did not want to sit beside the teacher for two hours. 

“Sure I don’t mind,” he answered dully. His eyes didn’t even leave the screen so you were sure he had no idea who he was even speaking to. 

You let out another huff and tossed your bag into the storage on top. The seat sunk as you plopped down into it, phone and earphones in hand. Almost as soon as you sat, the bus driver had started the vehicle and immediately began driving. There was many conversations going on, basically one happening in each row of seats, all except for yours and Jeno’s. You didn’t mean it but you gritted your teeth angrily. Sure, you and Jeno weren’t close friends or have you guys even spoken outside of school, but small talk wouldn’t hurt at all. 

You found your eyes drifting towards his direction and found him just listening to his music as he stared out the window. You figured his friends weren’t in this class because literally no one had tried to speak to him yet or had tried to communicate with him unlike your friends who had made a few hand signals at you a few minutes before. Biting your bottom lip, you decided to follow him and listen to your own music. It will probably help the time pass a bit. 

Choosing a slow song playlist, you rested your head against the seat’s headrest and closed your eyes.

If it weren’t for your one earbud falling out of your ear, you wouldn’t have woken up in a confused and exhausted state. Your head was comfortably on Jeno’s shoulder and you found that he had laid your sweater over your shoulders and arms so you hadn’t gotten cold. 

Startled, you jolted and sat up, “Shit I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.” You felt your cheeks warm up from embarrassment as you couldn’t bring yourself to making straight eye contact with him. 

He smiled widely, his eyes turning into crescents. You felt yourself blush even harder. What the hell this isn’t like you stop blushing. He took out one of his earbuds and spoke, “It’s okay, I promise. I would’ve shaken your head off of my shoulder if I didn’t like it, you know.” He let out a small laugh and held a thumbs up.

“Wait what time is it? How long ’til we get to the destination?” You looked around still trying to take in what had just happened. 

“It’s only eight o’ three so about fifty more minutes,” he replied. You groaned and sat back. Are you fucking serious? 

“I feel you,” he chuckled. He paused his music and wrapped his earphones around his phone, “Do you want to play a game for the rest of the ride? I’m getting bored of listening to music.” You looked at him surprised, hopefully not noticing how shocked you were. 

“Sure what game? I have nothing planned,” you answered, wrapping your own earphones around your phone. 

“How about would you rather? I always play it with my friends,” he suggested, “If not, I have nothing else.” 

“Sure, but you start,” you turned your body so that you were cross legged in your seat and facing him.

He raised an eyebrow and let out small hum, almost deep in thought. Jeno’s face relaxed as he finally thought of one.

“Would you rather end every sentence with ‘just joking’ or start every sentence with ‘hey idiot’?” 

There was a short silence between the two of you as you fell deep in thought.

“The first one, no one would take me seriously if I said just joking after everything,” you replied, “And what if somebody failed a test or something and you’re trying to comfort them? You’d be like, ‘yo it’s alright, you can do better next time, just joking.’” 

Jeno bursted out laughing, covering his mouth at the realization at how loud he suddenly was, “You wouldn’t be able to compliment someone either… How about the ‘hey idiot’ one?” 

“I don’t know, I mean, ‘Hey idiot, you can do better next time,’ sounds a lot more better than the other one,” you laughed. 

The game continued, occasionally falling into a different topic after each decision that had to be made. Near the end of the bus ride, you seriously asked yourself why everyone called him ‘no fun’ Jeno when he was the seriously complete opposite. It could be a nickname from those who hadn’t taken time to get to know him. Any reason, they were wrong.

“Here.” You found his phone being shoved into your hands. It was already unlocked and the messages app was open. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?” You looked up at him still confused but he looked back at you with the same smile almost an hour earlier. 

“O-oh, I was wondering if you could give me your number… I had fun during the ride,” he lowered his head shyly and kept his attention on his phone, “And if you wanted to play a different game back, maybe like 20 questions or chopsticks.” 

You almost gasped out loud before nodding, “Of course.” Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you inputted your number. You sent yourself a smiley face and handed the phone back to Jeno. You hadn’t thought that being late would benefit you at all.