band au . . . part three :: sleepover
pairing :: alysa liu x fem! reader
introduction ,, prologue ,, part one ,, part two
devon’s house always felt like it belonged to someone else.
it was untouched like rooms existed just to prove they could. family photos lined the hallway, but none of them were recent. same smiles were frozen in time like no one had thought to update them.
devon never talked about it.
his parents were always gone—work trips, late nights, things that sounded important enough not to question. he’d mention it sometimes, casually, like it was normal.
and maybe it was for him, but you notice the way how fast the house fills up the second all of you walk in.
because quiet doesn’t suit him. he’s too loud for that. so instead, he fills it with music, arguments, and you guys.
as much as he complains about hosting every time, he still lets you all in every time.
whether he wanted to admit it or not, the noise, the chaos, and the band was the closest thing he’s got to something that stays.
but for now, he’ll still complain.
“just so we’re clear,” devon says, kicking the door shut behind all of you. “this was not my first choice.”
you step inside, dropping your bag by the couch. “you say that every time.”
“because every time i’m right,” he shoots back. “i could’ve thrown a party. like a real party. with cool people.”
quinn glances around the empty house. “and yet… here we are.”
“yeah,” cam adds, holding up a bag of chips. “with snacks.”
devon scoffs. “you guys are the snacks.”
“that didn’t come out how you thought it did,” alysa says, making you stifle a laugh.
“dev, you’re so ungrateful,” you finally say.
“i’m not ungrateful,” devon argues. “i’m just saying, it’s my house, my rules, and i choose to hang out with you dorks instead of becoming a legend tonight.”
“you were never becoming a legend,” quinn says flatly.
alysa snorts from the couch, tossing a blanket over her shoulders like a cape. “face it, dev. this is your peak.”
he holds up his hands. “my peak hasn’t even started, aly.”
you shake your head, smiling despite yourself, and start arranging pillows on the floor.
eventually, the living room is covered in blankets and pillows, the tv playing superbad.
alysa drops down next to you, like always. “this seat taken?” she asks, grin wide.
you roll your eyes. “yes, actually.”
you look around the room. cam was already sitting cross legged on the other side couch, devon sat on the floor with his head resting against the couch, and quinn was in the kitchen, searching for an energy drink in devon’s fridge.
“quinn,” you say, holding your chin up a little higher.
alysa narrows her eyes. “hey, q?” alysa yells, still staring at you.
quinn groans from the kitchen, closing the fridge with a thud. “what do you want?”
“are you sitting next to drama queen?” she asks, finally taking her gaze off you.
before you can say anything, quinn is already walking into the living room again, holding someone random can. “take it,” quinn shrugs, already sitting on the arm rest of the couch.
alysa’s gaze finds yours again, smiling widely.
you huff, crossing your arms a little.
“relax, i don’t bite,” alysa says, scooting closer and dropping her head closer to your ear. “unless you want me to,” she whispers.
you just sit up more, leaning forward with your elbows resting on your legs, hands on your chin. “pervert,” you whisper.
from the tv, fogell says his iconic “mclovin” line.
devon groans immediately. “this movie is stupid.”
“it’s not stupid,” alysa replies. “it’s a classic.”
you glance at the screen, and then back again, a little more interested than you meant to be. “michael cera is the only thing keeping me watching.”
alysa tilts her head. “that’s your type?”
you huff. “that’s not what i meant.”
“i know,” she says, lips twitching. “just taking notes.”
devon snorts. “yeah, aly, take notes. maybe start acting awkward and apologizing for everything.”
“i can do awkward,” alysa says immediately.
“well, you already do annoying,” quinn adds.
cam laughs quietly, eyes still on the screen. “he’s funny, though.”
“of course you’d think so, cam,” devon snorts.
cam immediately sits up straighter. “the hell does that mean?”
“oh, you know what it means,” devon whispers.
as devon and cam go back and forth, arguing, alysa leans closer. her shoulder presses lightly against yours. “you like funny?” she murmurs.
you don’t look at her. “i like people who don’t talk during movies.”
“wow,” she whispers. “that’s crazy. couldn’t be me.”
devon throws popcorn at both of you. “if you two flirt any louder, i’m kicking you out.”
“we’re not flirting,” you say.
alysa hums. “easy for you to say.”
“y/n,” cam mumbles from somewhere under a pile of blankets. “we’re starving.”
you don’t even open your eyes. “and what do you want me to do about that?”
“uh, make us something?” devon says in obvious tone.
being the so-called “leader” of the band as the vocalist meant you somehow always got stuck with the domestic duties, like you were their mom.
“i need food,” devon insists. “i need substance, i need-“
“you need to shut up,” quinn mutters from the other side of the room.
cam sits up abruptly. “come on.”
“no,” you say immediately.
“yes,” he counters, already standing. “field trip to the kitchen.”
devon groans but pushes himself up anyway. quinn sighs, dragging a blanket with them. alysa doesn’t say anything, she looks at you, waiting.
you stare at all of them. “none of you know how to cook.”
“that’s why we have you,” devon says with a smile.
you exhale slowly. “i hate all of you.”
“love you too, drama queen.”
the kitchen light is way too bright for this time of night. it flickers on, exposing all of you in your half asleep, messy state—blankets over shoulders, hair a disaster.
“okay,” you say, tying your hair back. “i’ll make something.”
devon gasps. “you’re a hero.”
you grab bread, cheese, and butter to make grilled cheese. it was something you usually made during rehearsals since it was something everyone liked, and devon literally had nothing else in the kitchen.
“grilled cheese?” deven clutches his chest. “marry me.”
quinn snorts, glancing at alysa. “you’re late.”
“yeah, i called it first,” alysa nods.
you turn around, sending her a glance. “did i agree to that?”
alysa smiles, shaking her head innocently. “not yet.”
you turn your attention back to the stove. “keep talking and you all won’t be eating.”
alysa leans in, voice dropping. “don’t worry,” she murmurs. “she’ll be making us food all the time once we’re married.”
you don’t even look at her. “that sounds a little sexist.”
alysa pauses, immediately backtracking. “oh. no, no, then i’ll cook.”
devon bursts out laughing. “oh, absolutely not. do not let aly anywhere near a kitchen again.”
“that was one time,” alysa defends.
quinn raises an eyebrow. “you blew up your microwave.”
alysa’s eyes widened. “i didn’t blow it up-”
“you put a fork in it,” cam adds.
alysa throws her hands up. “i forgot it was on the plate!”
you stifle a laugh as start heating the pan.
behind you, cabinets open, drawers slide, and whispering is heard.
you slowly turn around. “why are you touching things?”
cam freezes, holding a pack of ham. “i was just-“
devon holds up a bag of chips. “what if we-“
quinn leans against the counter. “i’m not doing anything.”
you turn to look at them. “you’re thinking about it.”
alysa, meanwhile, has somehow ended up right behind you. “i think you should let me help,” she says.
you don’t face her. “absolutely not.”
“i could be useful,” alysa says.
alysa frowns a little. “that’s harsh.”
“you’re the one who almost blew up her microwave,” you say, trying not to smile.
alysa huffs, leaning against the counter.
you butter the bread, place it in the pan, listening to the soft sizzle.
for a second, it’s calm. until alysa’s hand reaches past you, grabbing a slice of cheese.
you don’t even hesitate. “alysa.”
“what?” she asks, already taking a bite.
you turn your head slightly.
she right there, closer than you expected, smiling like an idiot.
you signal to the cheese in her hand.
alysa pretends to think. “taste testing.”
“you’re stealing,” you correct.
she shrugs. “same thing.”
you roll your eyes, turning back to the stove.
“okay but hear me out,” devon says from behind you, holding up a sandwich stacked with cheese, chips, and something that might be pickles. “innovation.”
“that’s disgusting,” quinn says.
cam carefully assembles his like it’s a science project. “i’m just saying,” he mutters, “if you balance the ingredients-“
“you’re overthinking grilled cheese,” devon interrupts.
cam’s eyes widen. “i’m not.”
you flip your sandwich, perfectly golden.
alysa leans against the counter beside you now, watching you instead of the stove. “you’re… so good at this,” she says, just to speak to you.
you shrug. “it’s grilled cheese.”
she tilts her head. “still.”
you slide it onto a plate, cutting it cleanly in half. before you can even set it down, alysa takes one.
you blink. “did you just-“
“yep.” she takes a bite like it’s hers.
“make your own,” you say.
she smiles. “i like yours better.”
you squint. “you didn’t even try yours?”
alysa shakes her head. “i don’t need to.”
devon appears beside you. “where’s mine?”
you stare at him. “you were supposed to make it.”
“i tried,” he says. “it fell apart.”
you glance at his sandwich that’s barely holding together. you sigh before grabbing another piece of bread.
“wow,” quinn says. “look at that, she’s doing it anyway.”
“she loves us,” devon teases.
you shake your head. “one out of three.”
alysa holds a hand to her heart. “aww, is the one me?”
you narrow your eyes. “nope, it’s cam,” you signal to cam, who’s putting pickles on his sandwich.
“love you, drama queen,” he says, not even looking up.
alysa crosses her arms. “so you do like awkward guys?”
you shake your head, laughing. “i dont like guys. period.”
“so…” alysa drags out the word. “just awkward?”
“i can do awkward pretty well, you know?” alysa says. “i actually-“
you let out a loud sigh. “shut up, liu.”
“okay,” is all alysa says.
devon’s snorts from beside her. “whipped.”
alysa grabs a cheese, slapping it onto devon’s cheek.
devon turns his head slowly. “oh, you bitc-“
“get out of my kitchen,” you finally snap, turning around to face them.
“actually, this is my kitchen,” devon corrects, cheese still on his face.
you send him a stern glare.
he sighs in defeat. “okay,” he walks out the kitchen beside alysa, slapping her shoulder before running off to the living room like a child.
everyone falls asleep eventually. devon’s snoring was immediate. cam is buried in a blanket, comic still in his hand like he lost a fight with sleep. quinn is completely still, which either means they’re asleep, or very much not.
and you’re awake, staring at the ceiling. you close your eyes, then open them again. you let out a quiet sigh, shifting a little. your shoulder presses back into something warm and solid.
you freeze, taking a breath. you didn’t realize how close alysa was. or maybe you did, just not that close.
you start to move forward, slowly and carefully, trying not to wake her.
a hand settles lightly at your waist, causing you to go still again.
“don’t move…” she mumbles. her voice is rough with sleep, barely there.
you glance over your shoulder. you can’t fully see her face in the dark, but she’s definitely not asleep, not fully at least. “i wasn’t,” you whisper.
her grip shifts. “i’m too tired for this, drama queen,” she mutters.
you blink. “i didn’t do anything.”
“you did,” she says, words slurring together a little. “you moved.”
you almost laugh. “you’re the one holding me here.”
“mhm,” she mumbles. “problem?”
she just hums like that settles it.
you try to shift again, just a tiny bit, but her hand presses a fraction closer to your waist.
“hey,” she murmurs. “you can’t pull away now that you’re so close.”
your breath catches. “i’m literally trying to sleep.”
“then sleep,” she mumbles.
you stare at the wall. “you’re making that difficult.”
another quiet hum comes from her. “sounds like a you problem.”
you huff softly, but you don’t move. her hand doesn’t either. it rests there like she forgot to take it away, or didn’t want to.
“alysa…” you whisper. “are you even awake?” you asks. “or sleep talking?”
she huffs quietly. “don’t know.”
her hand shifts slightly. “go to sleep,” she mumbles.
“you’re holding me,” you whisper.
you exhale quietly, finally closing your eyes.
