#ty rattie

[losingmymarbelles]

more doodles from school: traditional edition

[diabeticgirl4]

I got new sports bras and everything feels so much better rn

[randomratty]

HIHIIHHIHI YOUR BLOG IS SO COOL ASNJWJEHWEH !!!!

OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH!!,

YOUR BLOG IS SOO COOOL TO!!

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK BTW :D!!

[tony-andonuts]

DuckDuckGo search How To Respond to Luigisley Sent From Your Brother

[simpjaes]

DESPERATE | P.SH

REQUESTED BY ANON: can’t stop thinking about loser!hoon who is obsessed with his best friends situationship and whenever you’re around he’s stealing glances or listening to you and heeseung getting it on through the wall and beating it until you come over early one day and plan to wait for heeseung to come home when you hear him moaning your name

or the one where sunghoon just wants a sliver of that pussy pleeeeease

PAIRING: loser!sunghoon x afab reader (ft.heeseung)

WORDCOUNT: 1.9k

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ It's not that Sunghoon has feelings for you or anything, he just kind of has feelings for the whole...thing you do with Heeseung.

No strings attached wasn't a concept he really understood before he witnessed it not once, but probably upwards of fifty times by now. He'd be forced to see and hear things he was not interested in, forced to note how it truly was a situationship with no strings attached.

Who'd have thought it was possible? 

It wasn’t until maybe the tenth or fifteenth time you’d come over that Sunghoon willingly paid attention. Realizing the world of sexuality doesn’t always have to end in dating. At first, he wondered if he could ever fuck a woman that often and not feel at least a little bit for her. 

And he thinks of you when he goes over the thoughts in his head. How could Heeseung not try to lock you down? After being his roommate for several years, Sunghoon has seen women come and go, most never visiting more than once unless one manages to tame and keep his roommate for like a month and a half before suddenly a new girl comes over.

You’re the only woman who comes this often and doesn’t hold the title of a “girlfriend.” In fact, it looks like neither you nor Heeseung give much of a shit about dating or tying down the other if it doesn’t involve rope burns or messy orgasms. 

He’s intrigued, genuinely. With the way you never sleep over, with the way you knock on the door clearly without a bra and probably without panties too just to wait for Heeseung to use you. With the way neither of you care that Sunghoon sees or hears because Heeseung is too damn busy trying to get in you that he can barely make it in his own goddamn room for it. 

Really, Sunghoon felt awkward about seeing it at first but now? Oh, now he actually feels a bit annoyed when he hears a door close and those pretty moans you always have become muffled and distant. It’s not like he’s getting any, so the more real the sex is in front of him the better it feels when he ultimately gets off in a different room for you. 

Time and time again he’s considered asking Heeseung if maybe he could get a piece of that. Time and time again he’s looked in the mirror after hyping himself to ask, only to realize that he’s a total fucking loser with a cock harder than rock over the idea of tasting someone’s sloppy seconds. 

Heeseung is…a type. The type to fuck and run, the type to fuck well and walk away casually like he knows some girls may chase and still never catch up to get another taste of him. Sunghoon, on the other hand, is his own type. 

The type to fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck, until a ring is involved, until there’s expensive dates and presents, until breakfast in bed becomes a normal occurrence instead of a luxury. Until a woman somehow manages to find sweater vests and buttoned shirts all the way up to the collar somehow more attractive than the combo of ripped tight jeans, platform sneakers, and loose fitted ratty old t-shirts that Heeseung wears. 

Heeseung isn’t boring. Sunghoon is. 

So, why would he ever think he could land the same type of girl Heeseung could? Especially when Sunghoon forces feelings without intention, like? You clearly aren’t looking for anything serious. So for now? He keeps to himself, wondering how, why, where, and when he could possibly partake in such a fun activity. 

Fucking a girl and not giving a fuck about any feelings that could be involved? Can Sunghoon manage that? Would Heeseung even be willing to know his own fuck buddy is over playing with his roommate rather than him? 

Fuck if he knows. He’ll probably never find out either. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s bad. Like, bad bad. 

Sunghoon can’t even get a nut if he’s not thinking of you these days. You’ve been around for close to half a year now and it’s almost normal. Like, he even offers you water if the two of you happen to pass each other in the hallway. Sometimes you’ll even steal some bites of their dinner before you inevitably fuck Heeseing in the hallway on the way to his bedroom. 

It’s nice, but it’s not. 

Anyway, here he is. Alone. 

Another early evening session with his hand so that he can make it through the night without the thoughts of bursting out of his bedroom and joining in on the fun with or without permission. 

It’s weird, actually, for a Friday night. Usually Heeseung would be home by now. 

Usually Heeseung would be three fingers deep in you, blocking off the entirety of the apartment until Sunghoon pinpoints which areas are safe for him to occupy during the session. Usually, you wouldn’t be needing to use the spare fucking key Heeseung apparently made for you without his knowledge?!

There he is, sprawled out and thrusting up into his fist, thoughts of you, in the heat of the moment right before reaching his high when he’s typically whispering or crying out your name in desperation. Honestly? He’s a bit out of it when he notices a shift in the air and a figure at his open door. 

In all fairness, he just so happened to not get up to close his door today. He was too into it, so to say. 

For a few moments he thought maybe he really lost his mind, thrusting up harshly and tightening his fist at the image of you. Has he really gone insane to the point of fucking hallucinating the girl he wants to fuck so badly? Really? Is the that much of a fucking loser? 

Well, yes and no. 

It’s not until he’s moaning out for you again that he realizes you’re actually there, staring at him with a wicked grin and batting your eyelashes. His ears ring at the realization but his hips only chase harder, he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. 

“Awh, Hoonie–” You smile, nick-naming him with ease since you’ve grown to know him well enough. Not that it matters, considering you just heard him moan your name repeatedly. “All you had to do was ask.” 

Still, he doesn’t stop and his mind actually struggles to comprehend your words. After all, you’re speaking so casually to him, like you can’t physically see him lose his fucking mind. 

And you do see it. You watch the way his body shudders and jerks just knowing you’re here. You even see him make the attempt to stop, only for his eyebrows to furrow and his hips to fight against the stalling of his hand. 

He’s feeling too good, and you’re not feeling good enough. 

“Is Hee not home yet?” You smile, still leaning against his door frame, fingers toying with the hem of the large shirt you wore today. 

Sunghoon can’t answer, but he tries, frantically shaking his head through another guttural moan and slap of his fist hitting his pelvic bone. 

“So, then, who's gonna take care of me right now?” You offer, blinking at him and watching the way he finally gains some sort of control. 

Sunghoon goes still, his hand tired and limp as he drops it to his side and you watch his weeping cock fall flat, bubbling pre-cum out against his stomach. 

“W-What?” Sunghoon asks, out of breath with a deep tone. 

“I’ve mentioned it to him, you know?” You smile, tilting your head down to watch as you continue to play with the fabric of the t-shirt. “Asked him if you’d be interested in fucking me too–” You explain, knowing how often he’s watched and definitely listened. Because let’s be real, it would be more difficult to avoid it rather than just accepting that it’s happening. “He said you probably would be.” 

Sunghoon feels embarrassment somewhere inside of him, which is fucking insane considering only now he feels bashful. Not all all because his cock is out and he’s nearly on the brink of tears, but solely because Heeseung must know he’s desperate enough to try and fuck the same girl.

“So…” You drop your shirt, taking a step in the room. “I guess he was right?” 

Sunghoon stays frozen, no thoughts behind those empty eyes. You could move him around like a puppet right now if you wanted to, and he’d probably thank you for it. 

You’re…interested in fucking him? 

Jackpot.

When Sunghoon’s hand moves back up, grabbing his cock and forcing a wince and a pitched groan from his throat, his eyes don’t leave yours until they’re forced to. He can’t help it when they roll back, he needs to cum at this point, whether you’re being serious or not. 

His body is ignited far more than it’s ever been and the need for a release is almost painful. 

As he falls back into the spiral of sexual frustration, it isn’t long before he hears you. Closer this time, with a weight on his bed dipping. Still, he can’t open his eyes because fuck, he’s so close. 

It’s bubbling up in his gut, his muscles are tensing, your voice only heightens the feeling until– oh.

A gentle grasp replaces his frantic and rough one, your sweet, amused chuckle ringing in his ears. Sunghoon still half wonders if he’s just lost his mind to the pleasure, but he knows that grip on him is very real, and very unfamiliar. 

It’s exactly what he needs as the new pace holds his orgasm from hitting, prolonging the pleasure to near overstimulation despite having not cum yet. Sure, the whine he lets out is probably embarrassing, but he can tell you don’t mind, with the way you suddenly dip down and lick his tip.

Goddamn the shiver that runs through him. 

Is this what Heeseung gets to have all the time? All he has to do is text or call and you come over to take him this deep down your throat? 

Fuck, Heeseung will be lucky if he ever sees you again. No way in hell can Sunghoon do this. Fuck without feeling, already he thinks he’s in love with you just from the way you swallow around him like that. The way you let his hands grip your hair, the way you let him push your head down all while pressing his hips up. The way you…..like to be used?????

Oh, he’s maybe obsessed with you.

And you prolong his orgasm for as long as you can, enjoying yourself in the way he’s far more needy than the usual fuck you have in this apartment. Eventually, you lend the perfect lick before burying his cock deep down your throat, all the way until your nose is being tickled by his happy trail. There, you encourage his cum out through hums and pleasant little sounds. 

Sunghoon moans out pathetically. You feel his small, tight thrusts through each pulse, trying to bury himself impossibly deeper despite the way you choke. You knew he was gone from the moment you saw him but now? Oh, now. It’s the fact that he hasn’t noticed Heeseung casually waiting by his still-open bedroom door. You know he’s patiently waiting for his turn with you, and he’ll get it when the time comes. For now, you’re going to give Sunghoon whatever he wants.

[space-invading-pigeon]

Eddie is the cryptid of their apartment building. He's a night owl and an insomniac, so he's up at all hours with no regard for the other tenants. He's respectful, courteous, and genuinely kind to anyone he comes across, but at least three of their neighbors are convinced he's a vampire and/or Steve is being held against his will.

Steve is well-liked by their neighbors because he babysits, for free, and shows so much love for the kids around him that the whole building is ready to kill for him within a year of Steve moving in. Trustworthy, medically trained, friendly, loving? The only downside is that the building is in a shittier neighborhood in the city, so the walls are thin, and Steve wakes up his floor-mates with his night terrors for months until they learn to tune out his screams.

Eddie is an unknown, though; most of the tenants only see him at an ungodly hour of the night, frizzy curls either forced into a messy bun (which looks more like a ponytail he forgot to finish tying) or down in a terrifying(ly glorious) mane that makes him look larger than his thin frame would permit. He has shadows under his dark eyes, translucent skin, and he's always wearing ratty pajama bottoms and homemade crop tops. The neighbors who HAVE spoken to him give wildly conflicting accounts.

Leonard from the first floor says that the Munson guy stabbed someone just outside his patio and screamed "are you fucking sorry" at the collapsed victim. (Eddie actually punched Jonathan Byers, Steve's friend visiting from California for some kind of conference that his partner was attending. In his defense, be thought he was being mugged and panicked while trying to apologize)

Derek on the fifth floor says he saw Eddie threatening a bird with a knife at four a.m. (Eddie has no excuse; he was tired and he's never trusted birds)

Bruce on the fourth floor (Steddie's nextdoor neighbor) will tell anyone who will listen that Eddie spent three hours teaching his spouse how to make different kinds of tea, because Donnar wanted to help Bruce relax in the evenings.

Mason on the first floor insists that Eddie is a vampire, because he's only ever spotted at night. (Eddie likes night. It doesn't help that his favorite water bottle is blood red and has "Donations: O-" on it)

No one can get a read on Eddie, and Steve finds it hilarious that Eddie has such varied accounts; he can't see Eddie as anything but the angel sent to make up for the rest of Steve's shitty life.

[siriusblack-the-third]

Sirius Black: Looks and Behaviour

Honestly, a few of these are canon, and I'll put that in brackets. Most of them are shamelessly self indulgent tho. Please note that this is the first part of The Sirius Black Headcanons Series, and I hope you enjoy!

.

Tall ASF. He towers over everybody, and combine that with his tendency to stick to the etiquette lessons he had been given as a child— he stands with his shoulders rolled back and his chin held high, straight-backed and arms at his side, sometimes with his hands in his pockets— he looks intimidating. He never slouches. (see: literally every time Harry mentions him)

He walks powerfully. Long strides, feet perfectly placed, arms swinging just right. Sometimes he walks with one hand in his pocket, curled around the pocket watch he carries around, given to him by James' parents for his 17th birthday and engraved with the Potter crest. People see him coming and clear out of his way immediately, and he does not even notice. He is the kind of person that attracts attention everywhere he goes.

Silvery grey eyes, high cheekbones, straight nose, strong jaw and determined eyebrows, full lips that make him look intimidating. Dense, silky hair, pitch black in colour and slightly wavy. Sirius is a living example of the fact that True Beauty is striking and terrifying. (see: again, literally every time Harry mentions him. Boy is calling Sirius handsome even during his death scene.)

He prefers to keep his hair long like his grandfather does, with the difference of tying a bun instead of a proper gentleman's queue. If not for the leather jackets and the ratty muggle jeans and the band t-shirts, he would have always been mistaken for Arcturus.

He has a lot of body hair, and he hates that his facial hair grows so fast, because he likes to stay clean shaven. His arms and legs and chest are hairy and he does not care much about that, but he likes it when his face looks clean and well-groomed, so he shaves every other day.

When he speaks, he is very articulate and concise, and often gets teased for it by Remus and Sirius (James is the same as him). His grammar is immaculate, and he prefers not to use expletives. He does use them, especially when he stubs his toe or drops something or some such happening, but he does not use them when insulting people.

He is always polite to people, even when he is arguing with them (see: ootp, his argument with molly). He will argue without raising his voice, because he firmly believes that greater volume does not equal improved argument, and only raises his voice in extremely stressful situations where he needs to bring attention to what he is saying.

Has concrete values and views, and refuses to bend or change them for anyone (the only exceptions are James and Harry). He is the kind to research and read before he forms an opinion, and does not hesitate to say that he is not educated enough to have an opinion on something if that is the case. He hates people who behave like sheep, and much prefers to do his own independent research and form his own independent opinions. (see: gof, he tells Harry he isn't sure Snape is a DE)

#1 Overbearing Fusspot™. James might have been the mother hen of their group, but Sirius was the Stressed Dad™. He is that overprepared airport dad; always worrying about this and that and making sure everyone has everything ready, and he extends that same parent behaviour to Harry after Prisoner of Azkaban (see: literally every interaction between him and Harry, he is such a parent).

Cares about only a few select people: James, Lily, Harry, Mr and Mrs Potter, Remus, Peter, Andromeda and Ted and Baby Tonks. He could not give less of a fuck about everybody else— he has a small circle and he likes it that way. After Peter's betrayal, that list reduces down only to Harry, Andy, Ted and Baby Tonks.

[writings-ofthe-heart]

Currently thinking about...

the stress you go through just staying by Mizu's side in her journey. The countless bodies and gore you've seen is enough to make you sick. But you don't say anything, you're lucky that Mizu even let you follow her! You're lucky Mizu even let you escape the terrible house you lived in. Because it wasn't your home, no, your home was here, in the snowy breath of the forest.

Mizu was getting close, she could feel it. Feel it under the soles of her feet, the wind causing tears to well up in her eyes. Unwavering, she turned back. This was the mountain. "Let's stay out here. Set up camp if you wish." Her voice was cool.

You only stared at her, nodding. Throughout the weeks, Mizu had, although she hated to recognize it, she'd had grown fond of you. The simple yet rare smile of yours, only ever appearing when you thought nobody was looking. It was going to be a cold night, and you both knew this. And as Mizu finished practicing out deep in the forest behind them, you sat down. The sun had already gone down hours ago but only now did you feel the bite of the cold air on your skin. The first wind howled in your ears and you shivered automatically.

Mizu walked to your side and swiftly sat down on a log. "Cold?" She asked, absently. From this angle you could see her onryo eyes. They weren't something you'd expect though, no, you were never afraid. Even from the first moment you had met Mizu, with her sword up to your neck and a knife you had held above her. Mizu saw the hopeless fire in your eyes.

"Just a bit." You wrapped yourself tighter within your arms. The onryo was only feared of, because people had never truly seen what they should fear. Men, men with power. They were the ones who should be feared.

The fire began to dim as it snowed.

"I'm going to sleep. Goodnight." You said into the night, unaware if Mizu had heard you or not. Crawling down into the fetal position, you sighed. Mizu did not talk often, neither did you. That's something Mizu appreciated, until now. Until now, where, she craved your voice. Wanted to hear the notes of your sound glide into her ears. Mizu wasn't familiar with this longing, so she ignored it. As she did often.

But she had heard you, of course she did, she clung to every word you spoke. Hoping, just mindlessly hoping it wouldn't stop. But of course it did.

So she found nothing else to do but join you. And she laid down on her back far, far from you. This couldn't change, her relationship with you could not change. It would derail her plans, everything she'd dreamed of, everything she wanted, needed.

And you were catastrophe. Just waiting for it to unfold, waiting for Mizu to be at her weakest. So of course, Mizu will stay far from you. Until it was done. Until she had dueled Taigen. But, not yet.

In the night, you chattered uncontrollably, even with your entire body tucked into itself. You were only wearing a simple and ratty kimono. And somehow, on the same night. Mizu, subconsciously, grew tired of the sound. Your body seemed to twitch around the snow, annoyingly. There was no account of how Mizu ended up wrapped behind you, cloaking both of you within.

And there was no recall of how embarrassing it was to wake up, before Mizu with her callused hands around your waist. You quickly wiggled out of her grasp and pretended to fall asleep again. Just like that, nothing had ever happened. You never brought it up, the same way Mizu never remembered.

pls dont repost on other platforms, my work is my own. ty!

[scorpioriesling]

Dangerous Woman (pt 2)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warnings: ehh… none

Summary: Now that Eris is finally ready to confront his feelings, will reader do the same?

SR’s Note: My apologies for the wait! I have so many WIPs, requests, multi-part series, etc. right now. I appreciate your patience & continued support <3 Tags: @lilah-asteria @infintyfandoms @peachcontour-blog

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The soda water is a relief to your pounding headache as the morning progresses, a constant reminder of the night before and just how much alcohol you’d consumed. If not for the headache, the state you were in would surely give it away; smeared makeup, ratty ponytail, the works. Thankfully, you’d rested in your own bed last night, Eris being the gentleman he is escorted you home after your… well…

That in itself was a reminder.

You couldn’t help but smile just a little bit, even though you knew today you’d have to face up to what had happened. It wasn’t the part about wondering if Eris would return his feelings — he’d all but laid them out on a silver tray for you last night. However, would said feelings change when he found out how you’d manipulated him into thinking you were someone else for a sexual experience? Well, yes. That part was rather terrifying.

Usually you’d feel heavier than a ton of bricks trying to drag yourself from bed, but this morning it’s the hope in your heart lulling you to the shower and quickly to your vanity to allot extra time for your primping before work. You knew you’d see him today, you had to be sure you were ready and obviously looked your best. Not that you’d been out drinking and, well, having sex with him the night prior.

Your burgundy milkmaid dress was simplistic but flattering, dipping low enough but not too low to anger the High Lord. Tying a ribbon to match in your curled ponytail and touching up your lip gloss once more, you set off for the Autumn Palace.

ﾟ:* ✧

“These need to be filed immediately.” Beron’s voice was flat as he plopped another hefty stack of papers onto your desk in the East Wing of the Palace. He only so much as glanced at you, making to move from your office without so much as further instruction. You nod quickly, the Lady of Autumn catching your eye from the doorway as she followed him out.

“Thank you,” she mouthed. You nodded your head politely at her, earning you a kind smile in return, one that reminded you so much of her oldest son. Speaking of…

The clock on the wall read half past three, and you hadn’t seen him all day. Usually you’d at least see him during your lunch hour as you’d stroll through the gardens, sitting under an oak tree for a quick chat or catch him passing your office a few times a day. Come to think of it, he didn’t have much need to be in the East Wing, but you’d at least find him passing by your office once if not twice a day.

Sighing, you move quick work of the record keeping, signing and dating the records and filing them into the correct folder drawers lining the walls. You tried to focus on your work, you only had thirty minutes before you were to leave, but you hoped to finish early and maybe find Eris somewhere. He had to be around, where else would he go?

Your mind wandered to last night, the way his hands felt on you, his lips, how beautiful he looked bathed in the moonlight…

You stop yourself, halting from filing a record in an incorrect folder. You shake your head, ponytail swinging side to side. Let’s just get through this, you think, turning back to your work.

ﾟ:* ✧

It’s nearly four in the afternoon when you shove the last file away, and you practically race from the office, locking it hastily and bounding down the long marble hallway toward the central courtyard. Your eyes dance from left to right, no one in sight inside or beyond the windows. All that is heard are the pattering of your maroon flats as you continue your hasty path toward the West Wing — the family chambers. If he wasn’t in the East Wing, the gardens, the offices, even the central courtyard, he must be in the West Wing.

You skid to a halt when you hear a conversation becoming louder and louder, the High Lord of Autumn’s familiar angry tone increasing in volume as you continue down the hallway. The last thing you need is to be caught, especially near the family’s quarters after hours. You make a split second decision, veering right down an unfamiliar hallway and pushing through the large wooden door at the end of it.

Your eyes squint at the afternoon sun blinding your vision, and taking a deep breath, your nose furrows at the pasture smell you’ve come upon. Taking in your surroundings, you realize you’ve left the palace, running right outside to the horse stables in the back. You glance around, noticing the large barn in front of you and not a soul in sight. Taking a few exasperated steps inside, into the shaded barn, you let out a loud sigh and sag your shoulders.

“What the FUCK!” You shout, a soft neigh coming from a stall in the distance. You bury your face in your palms, the weight of the day finally sinking in and your longing feeling all too heavy. You didn’t want to wait, you’d waited too long for this, been a coward too many times over to keep waiting. Now it was simply because you couldn’t find the male-

“Y/N?” A soft voice from behind you questions. You immediately straighten, your arms falling to your sides at the recognition. You turn slowly, heavy footsteps drawing nearer by the second.

“Y/N, are you,” Eris’s fingers lightly grace your exposed shoulder and you literally jump at the contact, causing him to retract immediately. His eyes search yours, his face the portrait of concern at your unusual attitude towards him.

“My Gods, Y/N — are you alright?” He asks softly. You face him, your mouth only opens to speak and you close it, unsure what to say.

“I… um…” You try. He reaches for you again, but thinks better of it, curling his fingers into a fist and dropping his hand.

“My dearest friend have I,” he swallows, unfurling his fingers to twist the silver ring on his index finger nervously. “Have I done something wrong?” He asks. Your eyes widen, and you take his hands in yours. His gaze flicks toward the contact, but your focused on his face.

“No! Oh Gods no Eris, never,” you assure. His whisky irises meet yours again, brow furrowed in uncertainty as his thumbs delicately trace across the backs of your palms.

“Well then, what has you so upset?” He asks. His tone, the honestly in it just breaks your heart in two. You knew this would be hard, but standing before him, before your Eris, the male you’d loved so long… admitting your truth would be the hardest thing you’d ever done.

But, it had to be done.

“I… I didn’t see you. Today.” You begin. He smiles a little, the corner of his mouth tilting upward as his gaze fixates on your delicate fingers still sitting in his.

“…I didn’t know you’d been looking for me.” He says after a moment’s pause.

“I was,” You continue. “I had… a matter. To discuss, with you I mean.” You stammer. His eyes drift toward yours once more, gazing at you through his half lids.

“Mhm… and that matter was?” He prods. You sigh, pulling your hands from his grasp and turning from him. You pace, taking a few steps and then turning back toward him once more.

“What’s so important you can’t talk to me about? Come now, we’ve been friends for…” he tilts his head. “Well, forever, anyway.” He shrugs. You meet his gaze again, and he scoffs looking away. “Unless you came to tell me you dropped the male you’ve courted, I can only await the day-“

“I never courted a male, Eris.” It comes out more forcefully than you’d like, but it has him peering at you once more in confusion.

“What are you talking about.” His voice has dropped an octave. He doesn’t ask — he demands. Heat creeps up your neck, all the words in your head feeling like the milky substance of the Cauldron, bubbling, bubbling…

Bubbling over.

“I never had a male to begin with Eris, I only said that because I was doing things to try and get your attention, because every time I would think I was getting close with you, you’d shut me out so I made it up-“

“Stop.” His voice halts your rambling. The short red locks of his hair fall to his forehand as he shakes his head slowly, eyes downcast toward the ground below. “Just… stop.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep it from trembling. You were sure he was going to banish you from speaking to him ever again, and you hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet.

“Eris, I… there’s more-“

“I slept with someone last night.” He interjects. You raise your eyebrows at his interruption, and his apologetic gaze meets yours after what feels like an eternity. “I went to a brothel. And I slept with another female.”

You only stare blankly at him. “Eris, that’s… you’re allowed to bed whomever you please-“

“Not when I’m so madly in love,” he steps forward, grasping your hands once more and holding them close to his chest. Your breath hitches, his eyes searching yours for any answers. “I’m in love, Y/N. I have been for a very long time, I think.” Your bottom lip quivers and you allow it, tears stinging the backs of your eyes as the moment you’d only ever dreamed of was finally happening right before you.

“Then why push me away for so long?” You whisper. Eris’s face falls slightly, but his hands slowly snake their way around your arms and down your back.

“I wouldn’t live if anything ever happened to you Y/N,” he says, leaning in closer. One tear falls as you gaze hopefully into his eyes, and he wipes it away with his thumb. “You know how my father is. He’d destroy anything I hold most dear to my heart.” He swallows thickly, and his nose bumps yours gently. One hand rests on your waist, the other still cupping your cheek as his thumb gently brushes over the skin.

Inch by inch, he pulls you closer, eyes fluttering closed when his soft lips finally touch yours again. This feels different, this kiss is so soft, so tender and full of love. You can’t help but allow a few stray tears fall, parting your lips to keep kissing Eris as your hands find their way to his shoulders. He holds you close to him, only pulling away to come up for air a few minutes later.

It’s quiet, the only sounds that are heard are your shared breaths and the fidgeting of the mares in their stalls around you. He gazes down at you, resting his forehead on yours before he shakes his head and chuckles. You can’t help but smile up at him.

“What is funny?” You ask. He sighs, pulling back a bit to run his gaze over your face, down your neck and over your chest.

“I’m but a fool for not realizing it sooner,” he mutters, still shaking his head. You only raise an eyebrow.

“Realizing… that we could have been together much sooner if you’d just allowed me in before now?” You tease. He looks skyward, contemplating.

“Perhaps,” he suggests. “Or, realizing the beautiful female who sits behind a desk all day is actually quite the little performer after hours,” your cheeks heat at his accusation — the realization that he’s finally figured it all out.

“Isn’t that right, bunny?” Your jaw drops dumbly, and he tuts.

“Ohhh bunny,” he purrs lowly, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “Don’t leave your mouth open like that unless you want me to put something in it.” You close your mouth, eyes wide at his bold choice of words outside the confines of a private room. His hand has begun tracing idle circles through the fabric of your dress at your waist.

“Eris… I was going to tell you-“

“Doesn’t matter. Figured it out anyway.” He shrugs, his other hand moving to cup your cheek once more as his amber eyes bore into yours.

“Right now I’d rather you use those pretty lips to kiss me again anyway.”

ﾟ:* ✧

[silent-sanctum]

HIII I LOVEEE YOUR WORKS !!! can i request jotaro x reader but where by a stand attack jotaro was now part 6 jotaro with the teen reader ? How shocked and flustered would be rrader by seeing jitaro in his 40's ! Ty!!!

hiya anon! Thank you for the kind words 🥹 Sorry it took so long for me to get your request out. It was supposed to be yesterday but then some mishaps happened and it was delayed to today. But here we are! Hope you enjoy this quick lil crack(?) fic I wrote 💌

A Mild Inconvenience- 6!Taro x Reader

word count: 2.7k

You have no idea where he went nor when he disappeared.

It was strange as it happened when you think about it again; one day, you and Jotaro were out and about investigating the area for any suspicious activity, and then out of the blue a random stranger jumped out from the shadows and made a weird proclamation of sorts about taking down the Crusaders.

It wasn’t anything surprising given he was the nth enemy Stand user they faced throughout this trip and judging by the way he presented himself, he’s also boasting a fragile ego thinking he was all that.

But an enemy was still an enemy so you and your delinquent partner had no problem beating him to a pulp. It was rather easy compared to the previous opponents they faced. His Stand wasn’t anything grand at all; just a small ratty pouch filled with sparkling purple sand.

The weird aspect of the whole situation was when the guy was about to tap out after being at the receiving end of Star Platinum’s punch barrage, only then did he decide to get a fistful of sand from his tiny bag and throw it straight at Jotaro’s face.

Some of it ended up on yours and caused you to close your eyes for a brief second, covering your face as an extra barrier, and when you opened them, you furrowed your brows at the sudden lack of both Jotaro and the knocked-out Stand user.

“What-”

You waved the remaining plume of sand away from your face as you surveyed your surroundings. Don’t tell me- You double-checked the structures surrounding you, the locals walking about, and the general weather. Nope. I’m still in Cairo. The possibility of me in an alternate universe can be crossed out now.

But that didn’t answer the prevailing question of where the fuck did those two go?

“Jotaro-ssi?” You called out to him as you headed your way somewhere. You don’t know where but anywhere will do if it helped finding him. Not that it would be hard to spot a 6’5” tall teenager among the average-height people. “I don’t know if you’re trying to get back at me for teasing you but leaving me by myself isn’t exactly the best decision, asshole.”

You kept scouting the area for any signs of him, turned corners, and explored every alleyway. And still… nothing.

This went on for what felt like 45 minutes and at this point, you sweated a lot and your thighs started to cramp. With your hands on your hips, you groaned in frustration, head tilted to the sky. “Wah, who would’ve known you’d use Mr. Joestar’s family technique against me. Foul play,” you scoffed. “I get it, alright? Just show yourself already.”

Just as you were about to call it quits and assume he just went back to the inn where the others were, something caught your eye at the corner of your vision. In the midst of a parting crowd, you could spot someone standing out from the rest. Someone with a signature ripped hat and coat.

You smirked. “You and your tall ass.”

With a confident stride, you stalked past the unbothered locals and made your way to the towering figure. However, as you neared him, it was only then you noticed the stark difference in his appearance; instead of his primarily black school uniform, he was decked in a purple-dominating outfit with gold accents all over. The design of his chain was different too, changed from the simple golden hoops to one that ended with a golden hook or anchor.

But aside from his grandfather, you knew no one else as tall as the delinquent, so you pushed forward and poked the man’s shoulder. “Hello, I believe you left something valuable back there.”

“Excuse me?”

You stepped back and gaped at the subtle difference in his voice. Not like there were any major differences. It’s still deep and gravelly, but somehow his voice was… milder for lack of a better term. As if it was polished to be more refined.

And as he turned around to look at you, you gaped at the visible changes found in your supposed 17-year-old boyfriend.

Jotaro looked older… way older than he’s supposed to. His cheekbones were more prominent, his eyes a bit sunken, gray streaks of hair lined segments of his head underneath his purple hat, and his hair was trimmed short. Not only that, it seemed that underneath his new flashier coat, he seemed to be built… a bit more. Resembling that of young, about-to-be silver foxes?

You cleared your throat and hoped the warmth in your cheeks faded as instantly as you wished. “Jotaro-ssi?”

He squinted at you, equally confused. “Y/N-ssi?”

“I don’t know if it’s just the heat starting to make me see things, but you look really different… and older.”

“Likewise. You look like your vibrant, youthful self.”

You coughed, trying not to succumb to bashful flattery from the compliment said by the gruff voice of this seemingly more mature Jotaro. “Clearly- well first off, thank you for that- but I’ll have to clarify some things.”

Jotaro tilted his head in curiosity. “I have questions to ask myself. But go on.”

“This might sound stupid but how old are you?”

“40.”

You remained silent, speechless with your brows furrowed and mouth agape as you processed what he said. “F-Forty? 4… 0?”

But he dismissed your surprise and simply asked, “What year is it today?”

“1987?”

Jotaro cursed under his breath, crossing his arms. “Figured… how the hell did this happen?” He let out a deep sigh. “Good grief, I’m too tired for this. Just as I was about to finish paperwork as well.”

“Hey Jo- err mister,” you said. “Can we talk about whatever the heck is going on somewhere that’s not in the open?”

He turned back to you and with one sweeping look around his surroundings, he nodded. “Sure.”

---

It was out of nowhere when he found himself standing in the middle of a marketplace.

Not even a minute passed and with a blink of an eye, Jotaro was no longer in his office signing documents but found himself getting pushed and shoved by a passing crowd of dark to tan-skinned locals. He recognized these buildings and streets. With a cock of his head, he said to himself, “What… Why am I here?”

Just then, someone poked his back. “Hello, I believe you left something valuable back there.”

Wait. “Excuse me?”

He turned around and he grew even more confused as he saw you- or rather, a younger you- behind him, looking up at him with an expression that mirrored his.

This was odd. The last he saw you was mere hours ago as you- a 40-year-old version of you- kissed him goodbye as you headed off to the Foundation to resume work while he stayed behind to focus on tasks related to his day job as a biologist.

But then he considered a couple of things: The buildings of Cairo, the locals, a stunned you being a teenager…

It meant one thing and as he asked you that question, you confirmed it and he was appalled. Nothing happened to him in his timeline, but it wasn’t the case for his younger self.

You offered to bring him back indoors where they could continue the discussion somewhere more private, and with nothing else giving him any solutions to his dilemma, he agreed.

Hence, here they were- sitting a couple of feet apart in a room of an inn with the rest of the Crusaders out still doing their agendas for the day. You sat on the foot of the bed while he remained leaning against the wall, finger under his chin as he tried to figure out what to do.

“Knowing you, I guess you’d rather we talk about possible solutions to your current situation?”

“It won’t be necessary,” Jotaro said. “As it always was with the others, it’s a Stand attack and it caused your Jotaro to swap with me, a future version of him. And since I’m here it means that the ability is currently active. The usual solution to this is to find the user again and tamper with his Stand to bring everything back to normal.”

“We’ll simply approach the old man or the agent currently working with him now to find the latest intel on the Stand user. That way, we can track him down faster. However, since they’re currently out wherever, we’ll simply just wait for them to arrive here and then we can ask for the important details.”

You stared at him with awe. “Woah, you’re much more knowledgeable about this whole Stand business than I thought.”

He shrugged. “Years of experience do that to you.”

“I mean yeah but it’s just wild how age can change a person because look at you!” You said as you made a sweeping gesture over his body. “Not only did you age like fine wine, but you actually grew out of your ‘tough guy’ act into this sage-like adult! Look at you openly sharing a strategy that isn’t just punching.”

Jotaro might have blushed at the ‘fine wine’ comment but pretended to not notice it and said, “I’ve always thought about strategies ever since my teenage years. It’d be dumb if the only solution to everything was a heavy punch or two.”

“I did say ‘openly’, didn’t I?” You raised a brow at him. “Let’s be honest, you did often resort to a classic Star Platinum barrage when it’s offered on the table.”

He thought back to his youth and took into account how often he resorted to simple violence as a quick solution to everything. Huh. I guess you weren’t wrong. “Well… you have a point. But let’s say it’s simply me still learning how Star worked. He did just manifest the same year as the trip.”

“You also called him an evil spirit,” you said. “Poor Star when all he did was protect you.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes and he could’ve sworn a part of his soul did the same thing in him. “I didn’t know better. Besides, he’s grown to be a reliable companion over the years. That I can acknowledge.”

Then there was a moment of silence where you just stared at him without a word. He kept silent as well, staring out the window as he waited for time to pass. “Oh by the way mister,” he glanced at you. “Is that a wedding ring snug on your finger?”

Admittedly, he never expected you to bring up that specific observation but he should’ve seen it coming when he had his arms exposed and crossed for you to eventually see. “Yeah. What about it?”

With a smug look, you interlocked your fingers under your chin and said, “Who’s the lucky person Mr. Kujo?”

Jotaro stared at you and various images of an aged version of you flashed in mind; memories of you during your wedding day, to when he accompanied you as you joined the Speedwagon Foundation, down until you brought your daughter Jolyne into the world and watched her grow into a confident woman with him by your side.

He broke his gaze with a cough and feigned casual stoicism. “I can’t disclose future events.”

Being the same perceptive individual as he knew you in the future, you smirked with a knowing look. “I see. I must say, how lucky they were to bag someone so intellectual and strong. What do you do again aside from tracking Stand users of course? I’m curious.”

“Primarily, I work as one of the leading marine biologists in the institute I’m under, but I part-time as a biology professor at a university in Florida as well.”

“Ooh~” you drawled with an impressed yet bashful smile growing behind the hand covering your pink cheeks. “Such accolades. Guess that interest of yours really took off, huh?”

Jotaro curled his lip, proud of himself for once. “It appeared so.”

“Gotta take notes for when 17-year-old you return,” you snickered. “Got any kids?”

“Perhaps.”

“How many? Girl or boy?”

“A daughter.”

You cooed, holding back a squeal of wholesome adoration. “I knew it. I figured you’d be a girl dad! I can only imagine how cute she is.” Jotaro smiled again. Jolyne was his little bundle of joy indeed. “Though if I’m gonna be honest, I thought she had siblings.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, weren’t you going at it as passionate lovers?”

Jotaro choked on his spit, caught off guard at the sudden question. “Well we are busy adults so we didn’t get many opportunities, but in the occasional moments we do, it is indeed… passionate. You did have the stamina and vigor to ravage me when you could.”

You stared at him, stunned. “What?”

He stared back, not registering what he said. “What?”

And then silence again between two staring individuals.

“Y/N! Jotaro! We’re back!”

Both you and he snapped out of the unintentional staring contest, each of them covering their embarrassed faces behind their hands as they looked anywhere but at each other. You dumbass. Why did you say that?

“W-Well,” you started. “They’re here now. I guess we start finding the guy responsible for this?”

Jotaro reeled from his minute-long foolishness and put his default stone-faced expression back on. “The sooner the better.”

---

Just as he said, beating the enemy Stand user the second time did the trick.

To start, upon seeing one of their companions aged up significantly, the Crusaders reasonably questioned both of you about what the hell was going on and you explained half of what had happened, only for Jotaro to help you out by continuing the other half of the conversation.

And you weren’t going to lie, but learning that he was able to voice out his thoughts more openly than before was both admiring and attractive. But your apparent affinity for hot older men with kids will be tackled on another day. Probably never.

After disclosing the need to locate the pocket sand Stand user, Mr. Joestar and the agent working with him were able to track his current location and the first second it was revealed, both of you wasted no time and hurried over to the man responsible.

Luckily for both of you, you didn’t have to resort to any more violence as the user- already beaten down and recovering from his injuries- complied with whatever you wanted out of him and let him hand over his magic Stand sand.

You and old man Jotaro said your goodbyes. It was nothing too special nor was it anything emotional. You were surprised to see a future version of your boyfriend, got fascinated by his progress in life, and now not only were you about to meet up with the current Jotaro and spill the news about what he was to become, you also got to bring back the adult to his timeline.

A win-win for everyone.

Little did you know just as the sand struck him again, the plumes still managed to fly onto your face and caused your eyes to shut and your brain to fuzz out momentarily.

When you opened them again, you were met with the classic punk delinquent Jotaro that you knew and love.

He coughed and waved the remaining sand cloud hovering around you and said, “What the hell was that?”

“An inconvenience that’s what,” you said. “Oh! By the way, I have something to share with you!”

“Same. You go first.”

“Alright, so…” You started with enthusiasm, only for your words to trail off as your mind ran blank. “I… uh, I don’t remember what I was about to say actually.”

Jotaro crossed his arms. “Oh really?”

“You know I don’t joke about this,” you whined. “Well, how about you go ahead and tell me about your day then, hm?”

He didn’t say anything as he looked elsewhere, eyes deep in concentration as he was trying to search for a specific memory in his brain, and after a minute or two of nothing, you smirked at him. “Well? Where’s the story time, Jotaro-ssi?”

“Fuck, I can’t recall anything.”

You chuckled. “I thought so. Serves you right for doubting me.”

“H-Hey, can I go now?”

You and Jotaro turned to the meek ex-enemy Stand user, hands up under the heavy weight of your stares. He looked at you and cocked a brow. “Your call.”

At that, you shrugged. “Sure.” You turned to the delinquent with a content smile. He, in turn, averted his gaze away from yours with faint reddened cheeks. “I already got what I need from you.”

[vialovesyou]

𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝗥𝗔𝗙𝗘 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗢𝗡

" what's up, y/n/n" grinned barry, kissing his teeth as the girl came into the beatdown trailer. a white sundress clung to her hips as the brunette pushed her perfectly curled hair over her shoulder looking up at barry through her long lashes.

" darlin’, this is country club " barry introduced, barely lifting a finger as he gestured to a blonde man sitting across from him.  the blonde's head snapped up, his biceps tensing through his polo shirt as y/n scoffed lightly.

" rafe cameron, never thought i'd see the day " she spoke, a laugh falling from her plump lips. y/n had met rafe once or twice since her best friend kyla was dating some guy who y/n didn't bother to learn the name of that happened to be friends with rafe.

" y/n" rafe greeted, nodding his head towards the girl who opened the bag which rested on her shoulders and dropped a wad off cash infront of barry, the bracelets which hung from her wrist jingling as she did so .

truth be told, rafe had never seen y/n sober. he wasn't all too surprised, the girl was known for her party girl ways. it was the typical good girl gone bad scenario, one he had seen play out one too many times.

" i need 20g's for the party kyla's throwing tonight " y/n told him, closing the clasp on her purse as she looked down at barry boredly. " still doin' luke's dirty work, are ya' sweetheart?" barry asked, scratching his stubble causing y/n to roll her eyes at the mention of her ex boyfriend.

" i'd rather shove a nail file up my nose " she hummed, her sweet tone unchanged despite her bitter words. " two grand good enough ? " she asked gesturing to the stack of cash which now lay among the empty plastic baggies and beer bottles.

" anything for my favourite customer " barry smirked, pushing off the ratty sofa to retrieve the stuff leaving y/n and rafe.

" you do coke? " he asked, his voice raspy while he glanced up at y/n. the girl pouted her lips, sitting down across from rafe causing the dress to inch up her thigh even higher as she crossed her legs over.

" it's not for me " she answered simply, brown eyes boring into rafe's.

" so who's it for? " he shot back, causing the girl to pull a face at his tone. she had never spoke to him more than twice, so why did he care so much. " what's it to you? " she replied, leaning forward causing the dress to slip revealing more of her cleavage.

rafe glanced down at her chest, before looking away his jaw ticking in annoyance just as barry came back with a bundle of small plastic baggies. " this good, y/n/n? " he asked, handing it to the girl who held it up, cocking her head to the side before she placed them into her bag.

" pleasure doing business with you " she smiled, spinning on her heel revealing the white ribbon tying the top half of her hair together and walking over to the door. " oh and rafe " she spoke softly, causing him to look over at her. " you should come by tonight"

[pileofmush]

cw: short. hopeful angst? not-so-vague jjk 261 spoilers. a/n: fuck it we move (i wrote this in a state of misery).

You’ve not one to be superstitious, but. There is something about him that makes you question your interpretation of reality. In the reflection of his wide, beady eyes, you see visions of yourself—crumpled, on the floor. A shadow of a shadow. Reduced to a something that is less and worse than nothing.

What could it be, but love? Reflected in his pitch black eyes?

It is certain, then. You can either leave. Disappear. Run until you reach a place where no one knows you and no one can find you and you are no one. Or you can stay. And watch yourself be nourished, then starved.

It is too bad that you don’t ever listen to your gut.

The notion approaches you when you’re in the midst of walking to the supermarket. It’s cloudy and cold, and the wind makes you feel like a brittle wafer. One crack and you’re done.

Yuuta walks beside you, even though the pace you set is slow. You pretend not to notice his nervous glances at you, quick and needy. Just like he pretends not to notice your longer, more appreciative stares whenever you forget yourself.

But can he blame you? He looks quite striking in his black wool coat. There’s a healthy pink glow resting just above his cheekbones. It’s cute. And his hair’s a bit messy, black strands falling loosely out of its natural parting, like he’s run a hand through it a few times.

Yes, he’s nervous alright. But when is he not nervous? And when do you care what he’s feeling, anyway?

It’s only a few moments later when he’s crouched before you, kneeling in the middle of the sidewalk, deft fingers reaching for your ratty, untied laces, that you realize how in deep you are.

“What are you doing?” You ask, just to ask.

It does not bother him. “Your shoe,” he says quietly, then he looks up at you and smiles. “Let me tie it for you.”

Yes, you’re in deep. You don’t utter a peep as Yuuta works quietly at your sneaker, then unlaces your other shoe and starts retying that. Foot-traffic swerves around you both, but you don’t have it in you to be sorry. Fuck. This was not in your plans, and yet—

When he’s done, he tells you so and runs a hand lightly up and down your calf.

You blank.

“Sorry, was that too much?”

Yuuta’s feminine voice brings back you back to your senses. He’s biting his bottom lip in worry, you note, though he seems reluctant to let go of your leg. He’s started tapping mindlessly against it, seemingly in thought. You don’t mind. You’re really pondering some thoughts of your own, such as how often he gnaws his lips. If they’d feel chapped against your own. If he ever accidentally draws blood.

“No, not too much.” You eventually reply, and then unwisely, you add, “Perhaps…not enough.”

And there is a sick, sharp sound of a lock slotting into place. The final snap of a coffin lid. You just might be doomed. But then, Yuuta tilts his head, hands tightening reflexively, and you really can’t find it within yourself to care.

So what.

So what if your intuition cries thick hot tears. So what if you see the worst in his haunting eyes.

Surely, you can take it. Surely, he is worth it.

For he is kind. Far too kind for his own good, maybe. And pretty. And he makes himself small, for you. And he smells like petrichor. Or lavender. One of the two.

.

You’ll regret it. Maybe. But not today.

You are not superstitious, but. The day you fall for Okkotsu Yuuta, you light a thin candlestick in the dark and allow yourself the space to mourn.

ty for reading T-T

[bakugosatoru]

Pretty for the Press

Requests Open! Warnings: Graphic Smut (This is pure PWP smut, MDNI) Genre: Smut Fic Type: Medium Length Fic (4.5k Words) Fandom: My Hero Acadamia Ship: Dabi x Hawks Authors note: My first longer fic! I'm not sure how I feel about it but I like it enough that I do want to share it! I've been working on it for an embarrassingly long time so I hope you like it! Also Dabi is really soft in this and its a little out of character but oh well. Synopsis: Hawks has defected to the side of the villains and is now standing in the League of Villains hideout bathroom, and he needs a haircut. Dabi offers to help. What could go wrong.

Also here on AO3 if you prefer to read over there.

It isn't exactly the Marriott. The yellowing porcelain of the benchtops and the stained brown sinks work to remind him exactly where he is. The bathroom at the league of villains hideout. The porcelain is cool against his hands, his face leaning in towards the cracked and dirty mirror.

It's been three months since Hawk defected to the side of the villains, away from the world of heroes, the world of being a hero. So here Hawks stands, instead of his hero funded penthouse with the nicest things money can buy, he stands in a bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. Tugging at the strands of his hair. He always forgets how quickly hair grows when not being cut every two weeks to keep up an appearance. 

“So this is why you spend so fucking long in the bathroom huh? Damn you really love looking at yourself that much Birdie?”

Dabi stands, lounging against the doorframe dressed in black sweatpants and a ratty old tank top. Hawks scowls, wondering how long he’d really been there.

“Fuck off Dabi, was just trying to figure out which one of you psychos I’d trust with scissors to cut my hair” The ex-hero smirked, leaning back from the mirror to meet Dabi’s gaze.

“And what was the verdict?” Dabi mused as he wandered over to stand next to Hawks, whose wings quickly tucked into his body to make room. 

Hawks didn’t answer, just going back to pulling and rearranging his hair before huffing and messily tying it back in a stubby ponytail. Dabi spun around and sat against the sink, watching Hawks intently. Hawks feathers puff and ruffle slightly, subconsciously, as he feels Dabis gaze dig into him. It's not often they get time alone together, usually they are either surrounded by other members of the league or fighting for their lives. Doesn’t exactly leave a lot of time for talking. Dabi picked up the discarded and rusted scissors off the counter and held them in front of his eyes, cutting at the air a few times for good measure.

“I mean, I could do it..” Dabi said, spinning the scissors around his pointer finger and tapping his other hand mindlessly against the counter.

“Promise I won't slice ya” 

“Well that just fills me with confidence” Hawks scoffed.

“I mean, the offers there if you want. If you want to keep growing out your hair ‘till you start looking like a homeless guy hanging outside the headquarters that's your call Birdy” 

Hawks paused for a moment, looking over at Dabi. Dabi glanced at him momentarily before returning his gaze to the scissors spinning in his hand. Hawks hated to admit that Dabi was probably his best choice. He couldn't trust Compress or Twice to just do a small trim (they always had a flair for the dramatic), Himeko might get a bit too snip-happy with the scissors and Shigaraki isn't exactly a big fan of… hygiene in general. 

“Fine” Hawks huffed, finally leaning back from the counter.

“Yea?” Surprise painted Dabi’s voice as he hopped off the counter and strolled behind Hawks, yanking a cheap plastic chair over from the corner of the room and placing it right in front of the mirror.

“Well take a seat, get comfortable. Want me to wash your hair first, scalp massage maybe? Perhaps I should get you a cup of tea?” Dabi mocked in a sing-song tone.

“Oh please do, I expect only the best service from a stylist as famous as yourself” Hawks scoffed as he rolled his eyes. He sat down on the chair and leaned back, Dabi now towering behind him in the mirror. A moment paused between them as Dabi looked down at his hair, a hand reaching out gingerly to hold a few strands between his fingers, the back of his hand brushing against Hawks neck gently. Hawks felt a shiver pass through his body to the tip of his wings and he just prayed Dabi didn’t notice.

“Uh actually I might have to wash it…” Dabi mumbled, all the joking bravado in his voice replaced with a nervousness Hawks had never heard coming from the villain before.

“Hm?” Hawks questioned, tilting his head to look up at Dabi, seeing the living skin on his face dusted with a soft pink hue.

“It's just easier to cut wet hair.” Dabi said as he spun the plastic chair around, so that Hawks was now facing him, his back to the sink. Hawks' breath caught in his throat as he looked up at Dabi, who was leaning over to turn on the faucet. Was Dabi going to wash his hair? This really hadn't been how he expected this to go, he assumed Dabi would cut a few inches off his hair and be done with it, but this was a side of Dabi he hadn't seen before. A softer side.

“Okay lean back, the water shouldnt be too hot but my hands aren't exactly great for gauging temperature so if your skin melts off, not my fault.” Dabi said as he moved over to the shower in the corner of the bathroom and snatched up a bottle of shampoo and conditioner. Hawks leant back, awkwardly tilting his head under the faucet to line himself up so the water was in his hair instead of covering his entire face.

“Twice will kill you if he finds out you're going to use his weird expensive shampoo”

“No, he’ll kill you. You're the one using it, I'm just putting it in your hair” Smirked Dabi as he strolled over to the left of Hawks and reached into the sink to help rinse his hair. Hawks felt himself tense as Dabis fingers brushed against his scalp, before relaxing into the touch and letting his eyes shut to prevent getting water in them. 

“So what about that tea you offered?” Hawks smirked as he felt Dabi pour some shampoo on his head and start massaging it into his hair. If he tried really hard he could probably pretend he was back in one of those swanky hair salons his agency used to send him to, but honestly? He preferred this, though he wasn't fully sure why. 

“Hey what the-” Hawks sputtered as he felt water be splashed onto his face. Dabi laughed as Hawks wiped his eyes with his sleeve, opening his eyes to look up at Dabi. His mouth opened to scold him but he paused, Dabi had this mindless smile on his face, not one of his signature smirks, but a genuine smile. 

Hawks hadn’t ever seen Dabi smile like this before.

“I was about to say you were good at this but after that I might have to retract that statement” Hawks teased.

“Aw c’mon Birdy, you like it” 

“Yea I guess I do” Hawks said, his voice quiet, so quiet that Dabi nearly didn't hear him…. But he had heard him.

“I’m sure you had this done all the time when you were a hero” Dabi snipped, a strange venom in his voice, but Hawks just shook it off.

“Yea, too much actually. They would send me every few weeks to make sure my hair was always perfect. ‘Gotta keep up appearances’ they would tell me. So they’d send me to some overpriced salon and get me all dolled up for the press” Hawks sighed, remembering his old life wasn’t exactly his favorite pastime. 

“Which do you like better?” “Hm?”

“Your old salon experiences or this one?” Dabi asked as he washed the last bit of conditioner out of Hawks hair and swapped to rinsing the hair clean. Hawks paused for a moment, staring up at Dabi.

“My old hairstylist was never so gentle” Hawks mumbled, still gazing up at him. Dabi tensed at his words, pulling his hands away and wiping them on a towel. Hawks scolded himself in his head, he was having the perfect moment with Dabi and he had to go say something stupid and spook him. 

He opened his mouth to apologize, or try to play it off, or do something to turn back time to only a few moments ago, but he was stopped by Dabi’s hand resting against his cheek as he leaned in and began to softly dry his hair. Hawks leant forward so he was no longer halfway in the sink as Dabi gently dried his hair with the towel before using the towel to wipe away the water that had splashed on Hawks face.

“I'm sure your old hairstylist never did this either.” Dabi whispered as he placed the towel on the counter and leant down, cupping Hawks face in his hands and brushing their lips together ever so softly, as if asking for permission. Permission that Hawks was more than happy to grant as he reached up and wrapped his arms around Dabis neck, kissing him deeply. Hawks’ mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour. Never in his wildest dreams could he have expected this. Of course he liked Dabi, Dabi was strong, funny, passionate and beautiful. But Dabi was also, well, Dabi; he didn’t expect him to feel the same way.

“Well?” Dabi asked, breaking the kiss but not pulling away. Their lips softly brushed against each other as he spoke.

“Oh, huh?” Stuttered Hawks, every thought in his brain fully occupied with what had just happened.

Dabi chuckled softly, gazing at Hawks' kiss-drunk expression. 

“Have any of your hairstylists ever done that before?” He smirked, kissing Hawks for just a moment before pulling back to allow him to answer.

“No, but I don't mind if this one does” He murmured, mustering every ounce of confidence in his body to stand up and pull Dabi back into a scathing kiss, his hands gripping his black spiked hair, being careful not to pull any staples or hurt the scarred skin. Hawks was usually good at this kind of thing, being a confident hero was all part of his image. Swooning the ladies, charming the press, it was second nature to him. But this? This was different, he had never felt so exposed, he was laying himself bare for a man who he had assumed wanted nothing to do with him. He was offering himself to Dabi, and if Dabi pushed him away now? He would never recover.

But Dabi took his offer

“Wanted to do this for months” Dabi whispered against Hawks lips. Scarred hands gripped his thighs and lifted Hawks up onto the bathroom counter. The plastic chair clattered to the side as Dabi stood between Hawks thighs, kissing him deeply. One of Hawks hands began to tug at the hem of Dabis' shirt. Dabi lifted his arms, allowing him to lift the shirt over his head and toss it to a corner of the bathroom. His hands began to trail along his scarred chest, his finger gently tracing the seams between scarred and living skin. For the first time, Dabi seemed to pull back, breaking the kiss and turning his head to the side.

“You okay? Does that hurt?” Hawks quickly started to pull his hand away but Dabi grabbed it and placed it back on his chest, holding it there and squeezing it slightly.

“No it's fine, just… been a while since anyone touched them, I guess; weird feeling. Just…keep going” Dabi sighed, his head dropping against Hawks shoulder, his hand dropping to the birds thigh as he began kissing along his neck.

“Okay” Hawks whispered, his hands dragging along Dabi’s chest, dragging down towards the hem of his sweatpants, mindlessly fiddling with the drawstring for a moment as he felt Dabi bite down against his neck, licking at the indent left behind.

“Shit- Dabi” Hawks hissed, his hips twitching. 

“Your room, now, please” 

“Don't gotta tell me twice songbird” Dabi hummed, stepping back and dragging Hawks off the counter.

Songbird… Hawks liked that one.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hawks got the wind knocked out of him as Dabi slammed him against the now closed door to his room. He was going to wake up the entire League and he truly didn't seem to care. Because he finally had that stupid bird in his arms.

“Do you know how long i've been trying to get your attention?” Dabi growled against his ear, his hands grabbing Hawks waist. Hawks let out a whine, flattening his chest against Dabis.

“So fucking pretty birdy, everyone wanted to be with the hero Hawks hm? Fucking sucks for them all, ‘cause I get villain Hawks and he is so much better.” Dabi used his grip on the ex-heros waist to push him towards the bed, shoving him backwards. He fell back, his wings splaying across the bed. Dabi couldn't help but smirk. Laid out just for him. He crawled over and straddled Hawks, before leaning forward to catch his lips in a kiss once again, their hips rolling against each other sloppily. They were making out like two teenagers and they couldn't care less. Hawks broke the kiss for a moment to rip his own shirt over his head, but it took a little longer as he had to slide his wings out of it, which Dabi thankfully helped with.

“Always wondered how those wings got in the way of getting dressed, guess now I know” Mused Dabi, his thumbs rubbing circles in Hawks thigh.

“Heh, yea, just as cumbersome as you would think” Laughs Hawks as he finally manages to escape his shirt, launching it across the room.

Dabi paused for a moment, his hands now pressed flat against Hawks chest as he shifted his weight, sitting on his lap. 

“Well Birdy, how do you wanna do this?”

“I mean, being on the bed is a good start…”

“No you dumbass,” Laughed Dabi.

            “Do you wanna top or bottom, I don’t mind either, I mean I usually top but I could be convinced to switch…I just need to touch you” He hummed as he dragged his nails across Hawks chest.

“Oh yea.. um” Hawks paused, his heart leaping into his throat as he looked at the ceiling, his face going bright red.

“Songbird?” Dabi paused, his hands flattening out to gently rest against Hawks hips.

“We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I didn't mean to…” Dabi trails off, self doubt filling him. Did he force Hawks into this? Hawks was probably grossed out. Was it his scars?. Dabi's mind raced a hundred miles an hour as he slowly went to climb off Hawks lap.

“No No it's nothing like that” Hawks exclaimed with a slight panic, his hands pulling Dabi back to his lap. He paused, Hawks entire face was burning red.

“I've just… fuck this is embarrassing. I've never done anything like this… before?” He mumbled, his eyes still avoiding meeting Dabis at all cost.

“What? Really? This is your first time with a dude?” Dabi exclaimed. He didn't mean to sound so surprised but, the number 2 hero? The professional flirt? Had never been with a guy?

“No not just with a guy” Hawks whispered, he looked like he wanted to curl in on himself until the world itself disappeared.

“Birdie, you a virgin?” Dabi asked, surprise lacing his voice.

“Yea…. The commission didn't exactly like letting me out of their sight and dating or hookups were out of the question so…” Hawks shrugged. 

Dabi paused for a moment before reaching a hand out and gently tilting Hawks chin down so their eyes met.

“Songbird, do you want to do this?” He asked, his voice that soft whisper from before that made Hawks heart melt.

“Mhm”

“I need words, Birdy.”

“Yes,” Hawks said before kissing Dabi softly. There's no one else he'd rather have his first time with. He threw his old life away to join the league, but deep down, he threw it away to be near Dabi, he wanted a new start, he wanted to do all the things he could never do, and if one of those things is getting railed by his hot edgy villain friend? Then he was going to do it.

“Alright then Songbird, here’s what we’re gonna do, you're going to leave everything to me, I’ll take the lead and take care of ya’. Any point you wanna stop, just say the word and we will.” Dabi smiled, that sweet smile again. Hawks would trust this man with his life… ironic considering their past. Dabi hooked his fingers into the loops of Hawks pants and worked to pull them off his legs. Hawks lifted his hips so Dabi was able to fully free him, his boxers doing absolutely nothing to hide the shape of his arousal straining against the fabric.

“This hard for little ol’ me Birdy? I’m flattered” Dabi teased, his mouth latching to Hawks exposed collarbone as one of his hands gave Hawks a light squeeze over his boxers. Hawks opened his mouth to reply, but he was only able to muster a whispered whine as Dabi set his mind racing with just a few touches.

“Fuck, your voice Songbird” Dabi groaned as he pulled back for a moment, quickly ridding himself of his own sweatpants. He grabbed Hawks hand and pulled it to feel against the growing bulge in his boxers.

“Feel what you do to me baby?” Dabi asked, Hawks didn’t respond, his hips shifting as he fought to get any friction against the growing desperation between his legs. Dabi smirked. Watching Hawks get so desperate before even getting his boxers off was driving him crazy. Dabi finally gave Hawks some respite, grabbing the waistband of his boxers and pulling them off him, his cock red and the tip wet with precum. 

“Lie back for me okay? I’m going to make you feel so good” Dabi murmured as he tilted Hawks back on the bed before positioning himself between Hawks legs. He leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the small bottle of lube he kept there for… personal reasons. He quickly discarded his own boxers before pouring some of the lube on his fingers and warming it up.

“This might feel weird at first but I promise it gets better” Dabi said as he dropped his slicked up finger down between Hawks legs, gently circling it around the rim before pushing it in softly. Hawks let out a hiss as his body got used to the strange intrusion. Dabi leaned forward and kissed along his collarbone in apology as he began to work his long finger in and out. He kept going until he was sure that Hawks was ready.

“Shit” Hawks moaned quietly as Dabi slipped a second finger into him, moving them around and scissoring them apart gently, working him open.

“Oh just you wait Songbird” Dabi smirked as he started to move his fingers slightly deeper, moving around, looking for that spot that would make his Birdy see stars.

“Fuck Dabi!” Hawks clenched around his fingers as he moaned loudly.

There it is.

Dabi let out a chuckle as he slipped a third finger into Hawks, loving how the ex-hero had begun rocking back onto his fingers. He kept working him open, making a conscious effort to only brush against his prostate once and a while, as to not end their fun too early, it was the birds first time after all. Hawks moans grew louder as Dabi continued to fuck into him with his fingers, his lips attacking any blank patches of skin across the birds chest, covering him in hickies. They would definitely have some questions to answer from the rest of the league tomorrow but neither of them could care at this moment.

“Dabi, fuck me please, I can’t take it anymore” Hawks whined out, his hand gripping against his partners scarred shoulders.

“Well how could I say no to that pretty voice baby?” Dabi purred out, but his mind was anything but calm. He didn’t realize how much of an effect Hawks voice had on him, he was shocked he didn’t cum right on the spot from hearing him beg, he was even more shocked he had just called Hawks baby. But no time to unpack that right now, right now all he needed was to get inside the stupidly sexy bird hero strewn in front of him. He quickly poured some more of the lube onto his hand, stroking his neglected cock a few times. He locked eyes with Hawks, the ex-hero was breathing heavily, his eyes watching Dabi hungrily, his whole face and neck bright red, besides the patches of hickies that were already starting to turn purple. Every breath seemed to send a quiver through each and every one of the feathers that sprouted from his back.

“Deep breath for me Birdy” Dabi pushed Hawks thighs apart as he lined himself up between his legs and slowly began to push inside. 

“Holy shit”

“You okay? Need me to stop?”

“Stop and I’ll rip your dick off” 

Dabi let out a laugh that quickly tapered into a groan as he bottomed out inside Hawks. He paused for a moment, his thumbs rubbing circles in Hawks hips, in an attempt to give the bird a moment to adjust. Hawks quickly let out a frustrated chirp and began to rock himself back against Dabis cock.

“No fucking patience” Dabi smirked as he slowly started to thrust into Hawks, not wanting to be too rough and hurt the poor bird. He dragged his nails up and down Hawks chest and shoulders, worshiping his toned body and the way his feathers quivered every time he brushed them with his fingers. But it wasn’t enough for Hawks, he wanted more. Don’t get him wrong, he was very thankful that Dabi was being so gentle and patient, but he didn’t want gentle, he wanted Dabi to make sure he never forgot this feeling. He wanted Dabi to make him scream. He rocked his hips impatiently back into Dabi’s thrusts, willing him to speed up.

“More Dabi, please” Hawks pleaded again, in that begging voice that Dabi couldn’t resist.

“Your fucking insatiable” Dabi chuckled darkly.

“Here I am, trying to be a gentleman” He slowly pulled out, until only the tip was still in.

“Be nice and gentle for your first time, but I think you just want me to fuck you into this mattress… isn’t that right Birdbrain” Dabi quickly slammed back into Hawks, yanking his thighs to bring them flush against each other. Hawks let out a choked moan, nodding eagerly as Dabi set a brutal pace, using Hawks hips and thighs to yank him back to meet his thrusts. Moans began spilling out of Hawks mouth completely unashamed, his hands gripping into the sheets for any kind of support as his body shook with each of Dabi’s thrusts. Dabi reached up and grabbed Hawks face, yanking him into a searing kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of the whimpering bird's mouth. 

“Fuck me your tight” Dabi growled against Hawks lips.

“Your jus -fuck- just big” Hawks choked out between his moans, eliciting another laugh from Dabi. He gritted his teeth, still slamming his hips roughly into his whimpering Birdy. Dabi really didn’t want to cum first but fuck did Hawks feel fucking incredible.

“Hey Birdy, roll over for me okay, wanna try something” Dabi said, pulling out and helping Hawks roll onto his stomach, his wings splaying out into the air after being cooped up against the bed for so long. Dabi slowly pushed himself deep back into the ex–hero, Hawks letting out a satisfied coo as he felt himself be filled again, this position making it feel even deeper. Even more intense. Hawks lifted his hips up, leaning forward on his knees, arms folded on the bed, his head resting against them. His ass on full display.

“Fuck Birdy, you’re gonna be the death of me” Dabi growled out as he returned to the brutal pace he had started before. Hawks kept up his chorus of moans, whimpers and chirps as he felt Dabis cock hit his prostate head on, this position making it even harder for him to keep it together.

“Dabi” He stammered through his whimpering tears “Not gonna last”.

“Gonna cum for me Songbird? Need to feel you clench around me, come on baby” Dabi cooed, one of his hands snaking down to Hawks dripping neglected cock, stroking it roughly in time with his thrusts, while his other hand grabbed the base of his wings roughly, his fingers curling and tugging on the sensitive feathers.

“Agh- Fuck Dabi!” Hawks let out a litany of loud moans and whines as his back arched into Dabi’s touch, his climax hitting him at full force, painting his stomach and the mattress with his cum. 

“That's it Songbird, just a little more, you're squeezing me so tight… shit” Dabi gasped out between gritted teeth as he felt Hawks climax rack his body. Both his hands shot to the base of Hawks large wings, gripping them tightly as he hit his limit. He collapsed forward against Hawks back and wings as he came, filling Hawks as deep as he could. Hawks mewling and chirping from the overstimulation. 

They laid there, both desperately trying to catch their breath. Dabi using the last of his energy to pull out, earning him a quiet whine from Hawks, and flop to the side of his sweet, exhausted bird (being careful not to crush his wings).

“C’mere birdy” Dabi mumbled, yanking the tired bird onto his chest, allowing him to nuzzle into the crook of his scarred neck, a hand gently running over his sides and the tips of his wings. The large wings had curled around the two of them, covering them both in a soft red canopy.  

“You good?” Dabi asked, turning his head to press a kiss onto the side of Hawks head.

“Mhm, so good” Hawks sighed, his words muffled by Dabis' shoulder. Dabi lets out a relieved breath he didn't realize he was holding and wraps both his arms around Hawks waist tightly, kissing the top of his head. 

“You know, we still have to cut your hair, Songbird” Dabi mused, resting his head against Hawks’. 

“Can do it tomorrow, don’t wanna move” Hawks whined.

“I have a feeling we’ll be a little busy tomorrow” Dabi smirked.

“Why? I didn't think we had a mission” Hawks asked, suddenly much more conscious.

“We don't, but Birdy, you just moaned on my dick loud enough that I'll be shocked if anyone didn’t hear it. We’re gonna have some questions to answer”  Dabi laughed, rubbing Hawks back as he saw his neck and ears turn red.

“Shit…” Hawks let out a groan. He had forgotten about that… tomorrow was going to be a long day. Dabi let out a laugh, hugging Hawks tightly to his body.

“A problem for tomorrow Birdy, get some rest for now” Dabi sighed, pulling the blanket over the two of them and relaxing back into the mattress, clutching his Birdy closely to his chest. He finally had him, he wasn't going to let him go any time soon.

[leclsrc]

This req is gonna sound weird but do yk that scene in friends where ross is hugging rachel by the legs? on his knees? could i have a charles drabble w/ that? ty!

the final frame – cl16

You and Charles move in together, among other things.

auds here... this req is from before christmas hahaha. i do not watch friends so i scoured the internet for this ‘scene’, i hope i was right and i hope i did this req justice! this is the last one for now and i’ll hopefully reopen them fr in a minute. title from this

The night’s colder than you anticipated, a cool draft sending goosebumps up your forearm as you inspect the fillet of salmon in the oven. You step forward, off where you’d been leaning on the island, to heave the window shut—the act usually requires all your strength—but Charles bounds into you from behind, pressing insistent, laughing kisses onto your neck.

“C,” you say, giggling yourself, a hand coming up to stroke at the nape of his neck. “Stop, there are people in the next room.”

He bites on your jaw a little and you laugh. “Next room, babe. Like, right in the next—just two metres—!”

Laughing still, he finally lets up and effortlessly shuts the window himself. He pecks another kiss, just on the tip of your nose, murmurs I love you and lets it settle into the herb-smelling air. “Are you tipsy?” You ask, teasing. He winks.

“No—really, though,” you press a little, lacing your hands together. “You’re fine?”

“Totally.” He smiles. “Bit nervous.”

“I was, too,” you start, squeezing his hand, “until I remembered these are literally just our friends. And they’re stupid, and they’ll probably love us even if we announced we murdered someone.”

He nods and smiles, slots your mouths together. When he pulls away, he murmurs, “I love you. You look beautiful.”

Really, you’re just in a two-year-old dress from a flea market in Provence, and your hair is dry and ratty and tied into a bun, but you appreciate the compliment. He’s being genuine, eyes gliding over you with ease as he presses yet another kiss to your cheek; you loop your arms around his neck, smiling up at him. This is so foolish, you think, to be so idiotically in love like this, but it’s Charles, and it makes so much sense.

“You’re glowing, really.” He doesn’t give, still spouting compliments like a broken fountain. 

“You suck.” You’ve never been good at accepting compliments, which seems ironic because you’re with a man who loves words, loves to tell you how much you mean to him, muffled by skin or said through a mic or in French or Italian. You tug him closer. “Should we go?”

He pauses, exhales. “Yeah. Let’s.”

Your friend group has gathered here, at Charles’ place, under the pretense that you’re trying to finish the ridiculously expensive bottle of wine Charles had purchased from France, but really, it’s for you both to announce your moving in together. Little milestones like these have always been celebrated by your group, and this is no different; tonight, Max has even volunteered to fix the clock that permanently reads 12:38 on Charles’ flat’s mantle.

You lead the way from the kitchen into the living room, where everyone is engaged in some kind of chatter or activity. Lily’s legs are draped over Alex’s lap and she’s coaching him through a Rubik’s cube. Lando is busy telling a joke to Carlos and Isa. And Max is three feet off the ground fiddling with a clock, turning deviously to ask: “Where have you two been?”

“Shagging,” you reply with nonchalance. 

“Your hair’s still perfect,” Lily says disapprovingly. “Don’t lie!”

You roll your eyes, stifling a smile as you lean into Charles’ arm that’s wrapped itself around your shoulders. In the future, you’ll tell yourself you should’ve noticed his clammy hand pressed against your arm, or turned and noticed his blank stare, his too-nervous gait. So many signs, you’ll think, and you ignored them all because you felt so damn happy. “Okay, I’m lying. The truth is…”

You turn to him, brows raising. “…you wanna go?”

“I wan—do you?”

“Sure, if you—”

“Just tell us!” Lando yells impatiently, sitting straighter, abandoning the joke in favor of this. “Tell us. Now!”

“Okay, um, we—well, a few months ago we decided we kind of. No, we definitely wanted to live together. And, to save you all the sexy details of getting leases and looking around Monaco for flats—we got one just two weeks ago. So this is—what it is, is it’s, uh, really a dinner to celebrate saying bye-bye to Charles’ flat. Okay? Right. Okay.”

You pause. The room erupts in whoops and cheers—many utterances of the word finally! float across the room. Immediately Isa and Lily are standing, demanding to see pictures of the new place, directions they can input into their cars and phones so they know exactly how to get there. Carlos, Lando, and Alex all cheer, offer alcohol as housewarming gifts. Max nearly drops the clock.

And this is it, you think, the rest of your life’s been decided. With this group, and your Charles, and the flat that will be yours by tomorrow morning.

—

Your house doesn’t feel much like home.

You know it’s an unfair statement, that it’s only really been two, three months of living together. But something has shifted, something you cannot name no matter how hard you try to. It’s just as cold tonight as it was the night you were in Charles’ old place announcing this one, but everything feels different now.

The move had started excitedly, with you sending near daily updates to the group chat with Isa and Lily, of paint swatches and ship-ins from IKEA. They sent flowers, came over to inspect the place, and so did everyone else—Max returned the now repaired clock, nailed it onto a spot on the wall the entire group agreed on. Slowly, bit by bit, the place began to feel like it was yours. 

But the nights without Charles grew long, and the days with him at work or at the gym or at a media affair—some of which he’d easily denied in favor of you before—grew more frequent. The flat, big and wide and lofty in an affluent neighborhood, felt bigger when he was gone. You were alone, a stranger in your own house, without him. 

You can’t pinpoint anything.

You can’t pinpoint the when, the how, the why, the if. To you, everything is vague, and that’s the worst part: how can you fix something you can barely understand? You haven’t shared a cup of coffee in ages, and the most you see of him is half his foot departing the front door in the morning. It could be work, it could be the preparing for the season, but in six years of being together nothing’s felt quite like this. You wonder if it’s deliberate. 

But your texts to Isa and Lily stay the same. Cream or eggshell? Cerulean or slate? And when they ask about Charles, you ignore the bite of guilt and lie instead. C and I just had brunch, he said eggshell, but the truth is, you’re the one settling on eggshell. You’d asked him ‘cream or eggshell’ three weeks ago and he said he’d think about it but he didn’t come home until four, and he hasn’t answered it.

He gets in on Saturday night earlier than usual, eyes dark with exhaustion. He’s wearing a suit, and you don’t know why. You can’t place half the places he’s been lately. His texts are choppy, standoffish. Here. Leaving soon. I’ll see you? “Hi, baby,” he croaks when he sees you nursing wine at the kitchen counter.

“C,” you say quietly. “Hi. When did you get in?”

“Just now, I was driven.” 

“Oh.” You pause. “Want a glass?” You raise the bottle.

He seems to hesitate, stopping in his tracks a bit before nodding defeatedly and pacing toward you. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your cheekbone, then finally your lips. You relish this, because you haven’t had it in so long. This intimacy, this affection, this kiss that isn’t pressed onto you while you’re asleep and he comes home with apologies flowing from his lips.

You pull away, pour him a glass of red. “Isn’t it crazy to think we have a home now?”

His smile flickers a little, and you notice. You try not to sound nosy when you pry. “C,” you say, the lump rising in your throat. Here you are, celebrating one of the happiest chapters of your life, but Charles won’t even meet your eyes. This is it. After months of not knowing, you think, you have to know. Now. “Are you okay?”

The wine is only half-poured. He sighs shakily, shakes his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He sounds so, so far away.

“You’re scaring me,” you say, laughing. But you sound more nervous than amused. He sounds nervous, too.

“Baby,” he says suddenly, like a dam in his mind has broken and everything is spilling out, all the damage, all of it, and it’s washing onto you like a massive wash of water. “Baby, I—I fucked up.”

You cannot withstand the wave. Your eyebrows knit together. “Tell me,” you insist. Even more surprisingly, he crumples to his knees, hugs your thighs and leans against you. You press, anyway. “Talk to me, C. Please.”

“You can’t fix this,” he says resolutely, “you abso—you can’t.”

“I will,” you say. “I love you.”

“I slept with someone else.” This is a great, big, terrible feeling. You really can’t fix this. You’re back to being clueless. Your heart stops, and so does your breath, heavy and heaving. Words are dry when they try to leave your throat, leap off your tongue. Your hand, threaded into Charles’ hair, pauses. You feel him crying, but you feel nothing else.

“You what,” you ask. It’s so dry, everything is desert dry. A whisper, a breath, a murmur in the cold kitchen.

“I’m sorry.”

“C,” you say, and you can’t even cry yet. You’re stunned, struck with dizzy disbelief. “Was it—when, like, last season…?”

His silence answers you, and you stumble backwards, out of his grasp. You shake your head, like you’re trying to quell the tears, the lump in your throat, the nerves in your stomach that threaten to bubble over.

“Don’t say this year.” You shake your head, over and over, shaking and shaking, like it will rid you of the conversation you’re currently having. You think of the paperwork, of the nearly dropped clock, of signing the lease, of eggshell and flowers, of housewarming gifts yet to be unwrapped.

Tearily, you muster, “Don’t tell me, C. Don’t fucking do this to me, please. Don’t.”

“I barely even know her,” he says. “Once. It happened once. It meant nothing.” Your soul crushes, shot and wilted.

“No, it meant everything,” you say angrily. You’re angry now. Angry and sad, and furious and boiling with rage. You’re everything. You’re a house fire, right here in the flat. 

And you stand, feet bare on the tile, thinking about how you’ll have to live with this forever, branded like an ugly stamp. You loved and he did not. Get out, you say. Get out and don’t come back, I don’t care. Don’t fucking come back. You shove him weakly, but he gets the message, ushers himself to the coat rack. You’re not even yelling. You’re just breathing heavy, shaking your head, like you’re denying this ever happened.

You only cry when he’s left, loud, exruciating sobs. He wrestles himself outside still apologizing, saying he’ll be back tomorrow. You’re torn between hoping he will be and hoping you never see him again, crumpled to the hardwood of your brand new house, knees weak, heart weaker. You don’t get up until morning. 

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

Fake Happy(1)

(Harry Styles x Reader)

Song:

Summary: A heartbroken Harry meets a heartbroken Y/N. Friends to lovers.

Warnings: Cursing.Angst.Fluff.

>>>————————————->

“Trevor, you need to figure your shit out.”

He scoffs into the phone.

“Y/N, you know how much this means to me-.”

“Of course I do! I’ve been working my ass off to support us when you move here and now you’re just suddenly done?! You haven’t spoken to me for days and now you drop this on me?!”

He sighs and I sniffle, fighting back my tears.

“I just- I don’t think we’re good together anymore… I’m sorry Y/N, but that’s the way it is. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

He hangs up, and my tears start to fall. I sniffle and wipe my face with my sleeve before locking my car and heading into my parents large house. It’s crowded inside and it takes me a few minutes to find my father, who gives me a look of displeasure the second he sees me.

“Y/N, what have we talked about? You can’t show up to these things in that ratty uniform of yours. Diane, sweetheart, would you please take her upstairs and fix her?”

My mother smiles and nods, taking my hand and pulling me through the house and up the stairs into my parent’s bedroom. She shuts the door and turns to me, pulling me into a hug.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart…”

My eyes widen and she pulls away, wiping away my remaining tears.

“How did you-.”

“Mother’s instincts. You were far too good for him. You are more than I ever thought you could be. I’m very proud.”

I sit on the edge of the bed and she walks into her closet.

“Why…? Father isn’t happy…”

She comes out with a cocktail dress and a pair of matching heels, a frown on her face.

“That may be so, but it’s only because he wants to keep you safe. He feels he can’t do that when you’re on your own. But you’re a strong, independent girl. You are entitled to live your life as you choose and sweetheart, you are doing amazing. You support yourself no matter what, and I could never be prouder…”

She sits down next to me and takes my hand.

“Sweetheart, you be the best you that you can be. And if Trevor can’t see that- someone else will. Now, let’s not keep your father waiting. Go change and I’ll do your hair and makeup.”

I sigh and stand up, changing in the bathroom before coming out and taking a seat at my mother’s vanity. She begins to brush my hair and then she braids it, tying it up with a bow. I slip on some earrings she holds out to me before she slips on a diamond necklace.

I slip on the heels and she quickly does my makeup when there’s a knock the door. My father pokes his head through the door and smiles when he sees me, coming in before closing the door behind him.

“Much, much better. Now, come along. I have someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

I take his arm reluctantly and escorts my mother and I downstairs to a small group of men, one I recognize awfully well. I quickly grab a champagne flute off of a nearby tray and I down it, making my father a scoff.

“Gentleman, forgive my daughter for her lack of.. decorum- Harry, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, sweetheart, this is-.”

“Harry Styles…”

Harry smiles and holds out his hand to me. I shake it with a blush and a small smile. The older man discuss for a few minutes and I stand there, downing a few more flutes before someone taps my shoulder. Harry.

“Did you maybe want to get some air? It’s getting a bit stuffy in here and it seems like you could use some air as well.”

I smile and nod, following him outside. I take a seat on the deck bench, clutching my half empty flute. Harry takes a seat next to me and doesn’t speak for a minute.

“So…You seem bothered.”

I scoff and shake my head.

“You’ve known me all of ten minutes. How could you possibly know that?”

He sighs and I turn my head to him.

“Because I recognize the look on your face. The same one I’ve had the past few months…”

I frown and place my hand on his shoulder.

“Love sucks.”

He lets out a light laugh and nods.

“A bit…”

I sigh and lean against the wall.

“One minute You’re planning your future and the next your heart is smashed to pieces.”

He leans against the wall and looks at me.

“So why fake happy?”

I sigh and fiddle my fingers.

“My father. He doesn’t exactly make it easy to be human. I have to keep up an image. He’s already angry enough that I don’t live alone- let alone that I work…”

I finish off my champagne flute and I kick of my heels, flinging them into the grass.

“Don’t you have anyone to confide in?”

I side eye him, shaking my head.

“I confide in my pillow. Just as I always do. And what about you? Surely you’ve got people who understand you.”

He gives me a sad smile and shakes his head.

“Technically I guess I do. But not anyone I feel comfortable telling.”

I stay quiet for a minute before I decide to bite the bullet and speak my mind.

“If you ever need anyone… You can call or text me. I’ll be here if you need to talk…”

He widens his eyes and looks at me, his mouth gaping.

“You’d do that? Why?”

I shrug and give him a small smile.

“Sometimes it’s nice to lean on someone. And maybe… I don’t know- maybe we can be that for each other… Friends?”

He smiles and leaps to me, hugging me tight as I laugh.

“Yes! I’d love that! But promise me one thing?”

He pulls away and I look at him as he takes my hand.

“Let’s not fake happy around each other. Deal?”

I like my pinky with his and smile.

“Deal.”

>>>————————————->

This is only part one lovelies! I promise they’ll be together! Please let me know what you thought!

Tag List

@be-with-me-so-happily @swiftmendeshoran @babyiamperfectforyou @freedomfireflies @kaminokatie @harrysmimi @violetsandfluff @fruitmans @fruitmansrecs @harringtons-honey @rafaaoli @kimmi-kat @erggggggggg @cayleyhannha-blog @acesofspadess @that-mcu-fan @styles-barnes-bitch @purple9950 @justmystyles @itslottiehere

[feeblescholarmyass]

"To Whoever Is Dicking Around on a Motorcycle in the Middle of the Night..."

in which your neighbor, Chuuya Nakahara, stays up too late messing with his motorcycle and it keeps you awake

tags: pre-relationship, pining stage, excessive use of the word "motorcycle", reader does not like riding a motorcycle, ooc? Chuuya (I tried my best babes but I am soo early in the series), this was beta read (rare) so it shouldn't have too many mistakes (ty @ratty-rat-toot 💞), vague hints that reader works in a bakery, I lost motivation at the end so the sections got shorter

a/n: this will not be part of a series, but expect more Chuuya fics in the future!!!

You tossed to your side for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. You'd been attempting to fall asleep for hours. No matter what you did, it just wouldn't happen. You took your medication, made sure to soothe yourself and prepare for bed. Yet, you just couldn't seem to get any rest at all. The grueling summer heat combined with your normal insomnia was not doing you any favors.

You peeled your eyelids open and groped around in the dark to find your phone and check the time. At first, your fingers found nothing but your own bedsheets. Only after a more thorough and frustrated search did you find what you were looking for. You winced as the screen flashed a blinding light when you turned it on, and it took your eyes a few seconds to adjust to the invasive light before you could read the time. It was only a few minutes from midnight, meaning you had about six hours left to attempt to go to sleep.

You groaned into your pillow, wishing for summer to be over already. Once the days were shorter and the temperatures lower, you had much higher hopes for finally finding some sort of sleep schedule besides an attempt. Unfortunately, the days were only going to get hotter from there on out.

You rolled back onto your side, wrapping your arms around a blanket and struggled to find a comfortable position that wouldn't cook you in your sleep.

Just as your eyes fluttered shut and the weight of your cat against your legs began to lull you into sleep, the loud sound of an engine revving startled you back awake. You were no engine expert, but it sounded like a motorcycle.

(More UTC)

Is someone really taking their motorcycle out for a ride at this hour? That's ridiculous. Just go away, already! I'm trying to sleep, god dammit! You thought, stuffing your head under a pillow.

However, the noises from your neighbor's garage did not get any quieter. The longer this persisted, the more irritable you grew.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," you cried, throwing off your light blanket (much to your cat's protest) and shoved on the first jacket you could find to cover yourself a little. It was too hot for proper pajamas, so you had been in bed wearing the tiniest pajama shorts in your possession and some decently comfortable undergarments.

You marched to your front door, pulled it open, and followed the sound to the mystery individual who thought it was a good idea to play mechanic in the middle of the night. It was dark, but the moon was almost full, so you had plenty of light to find your way around the street. It helped that your eyes were used to the dark from hours of staring up at your ceiling in the lightless expanse of your bedroom.

Just down the street, two houses east and across from yours, you found the culprit, kneeling on the concrete of his open garage, tuning up his expensive looking bike. The motorcycle itself was hot pink, and from the looks of it, a decent model. As much as you appreciated good taste, it didn't excuse the noise at such a late hour.

"Hey, idiot!" You shouted. Was the name calling a little unnecessarily rude? Yes, but it was also unnecessary for him to be so loud at practically midnight, so you didn't feel any remorse.

The perpetrator looked up at you from the task at hand, red hair tied up loosely against his neck, and grayish blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. It would have been pretty, if you weren't so pissed off. Actually, even through your vision that was blurred from exhaustion and blind, sleepy rage, he was incredibly attractive. It was unfortunate that you had to meet like this.

"It's the middle of the night! Don't you think you should keep it down?! Some of us are trying to sleep!" You readjusted your jacket, realizing you must look a little crazy standing in a stranger's yard in only your undergarments, some very tiny shorts, and a very thin jacket. In your defense, you hadn't been expecting to make any late night visits to crazy neighbor boys to make complaints.

He frowned for a moment before his expression relaxed. "Sorry," he called back. He got up from the ground and dusted off his knees. You took notice of his grease covered forearms. He had been messing with the bike. You hoped he knew what he was doing and wasn't just an amateur trying a hand at such expensive upkeep.

"You'd better be," you muttered under your breath. You turned on your heel with a huff and stomped back to your house, all the while attempting not to flash the frustratingly pretty boy who was watching you leave with a dumbfounded grin on his face.

Embarrassing lack of clothes aside, it had felt good to yell at someone. Maybe now you'd be able to sleep with some peace of mind, knowing the sanctity of the night was once again just as quiet as it should be.

After that, there were no more motorcycle engine noises keeping you up in the night. Once again, only your poor habits and unfortunate circumstances prevented you from getting a full night's rest.

It seemed that motorcycle boy had taken your complaint into consideration and decided not to do any more impromptu repairs at all hours of the night.

Sadly, that didn't mean you slept any better. You were an absolute wreck today. One night of poor sleep had turned into a week of hardly getting any rest at all. Currently, you were waddling around like a zombie, hardly able to think as your body performed on autopilot to get all the necessary tasks done. You couldn't even remember what you'd eaten for breakfast that morning, or if you'd even had breakfast at all.

Last night had resulted in a total four hours of fitful sleep, accompanied by the strangest dreams you couldn't even remember. Something about weretigers and detectives, but it was all so intelligible that you didn't bother attempting to unwind the mystery of whatever your subconscious had cooked up for you this time.

You had made your coffee with an extra shot of espresso and hoped for the best. You took another sip, realized it was too sweet for your tastes, but didn't care enough to do anything about it. It may have been the first cohesive thought you'd had all day.

You gave your cat a scratch between its ears and slipped on a pair of shoes so you could go out and check on the garden your father had reminded (read: demanded) you to take care of, since he couldn't keep an eye on what ingredients you were using in meals anymore. As much as you struggled to remember to care for the plants properly, you found you didn't hate the responsibility. It made you feel productive whenever you were able to harvest the results of all your troubles. The fresh taste was an added bonus.

As you watered the flowers that served as ground coverage used to shield your precious darling fruit bushes and vegetable garden from nasty herbivore vermin, you heard the sound of an engine starting up from down the street.

Ah, motorcycle boy is up, you thought. A strange thrill coursed through your veins as you remembered how he had looked in the moonlight. Bad Y/n, now is not the time to get giddy over some stupid neighbor boy. You've got to get to work soon and can't afford time to daydream.

Despite the stern talking-to you were giving yourself, you couldn't help but want to catch another glance of such a beautiful man. You turned and shielded your eyes from the rising sun, glancing at your neighbor. The view did not disappoint.

He straddled the bike as he put on his helmet. His hair was long enough you could still see it peeking out from underneath and curling around his shoulders. Red shone gold in the early morning sunshine, creating a glow around him that made you forget what you were doing just to watch him prepare to drive away.

You set down the watering can with as much care as you could manage (which is to say, very little) and pushed your hair out of your eyes to get a better view. You caught him glancing at you before he started the bike. The look he gave you sent shivers down your spine. Only once he had disappeared from your view were you able to return to fretting over the poor leaves of your radishes. It seemed some bunnies had decided those were the yummiest, and trampled your flowers just to get to them.

Oh, well. You would just have to take more care to try and prevent them from making it that far next time. Luckily, your newest plot to save your garden involved a more forceful method of keeping herbivores out of your plants.

The next time you ran into Motorcycle Boy, you were picking up some seeds to begin your new garden protection strategy. It had been a month or two without any interactions, much to your pleasure. It was a hassle to try to wrangle the butterflies he sent tumbling in your stomach back in their cage.

This time, he seemed to be fussing over the location of some wine. He was small, not much taller than a young teenage boy. For someone with such an unfriendly scowl, he didn't seem all that intimidating at the moment. You held back giggles as you watched him strain to grab the bottle he wanted, hopping up and down and cursing under his breath in frustration.

You decided not to say anything and passed him wordlessly, sticking to the opposite side of the aisle and hoping he wouldn't notice you, or at the very least he would leave you alone. You didn't have the time to play the small talk game at the moment; you had a friend on their way to visit you, and you were keen on being home before they arrived.

"Hey, you!" He called. You winced at the sound of his voice and bit back a sigh. He had noticed you and not chosen to ignore you. It seemed luck was not on your side today. "C'mere," he called.

You turned towards him and put on your best customer service smile. "Do you need something?" You asked him.

"You're the girl who showed up in my yard wearing practically nothing, yeah?" He lifted his head so he could look down at you. You felt your face go hot. Did he really have to bring that up in public? You mentally whined. "Grab this bottle for me and I'll forget about the whole thing."

All embarrassment you had felt previously turned into anger as his words registered in your brain. "Huh?!? Why should I? You really should learn to get better at asking people for help, if that's what you're trying to do here."

His eyes widened as he seemed to realize his mistake. "Hold on," he called, putting his hands up in defense. "I didn't mean it like that. 'Just thought it must have been pretty embarrassing, you know? Let me try again. Would you help me over here?"

You took a second to cool down, then took a deep breath. "Fine, since you asked so nicely," you huffed.

You reached up with a little bit of a struggle and got down the bottle he had been trying to grab, then glanced over the label. He's got good taste in alcohol, too. This is getting ridiculous.

"There, now don't mention that ever again. Please," you muttered, handing the bottle to him.

"Gotcha," he replied without another glance in your direction,, looking only at the wine bottle in his hand. He turned it over and read the labels, then tucked it under his arm and headed for the register.

"Wait!" You called, immediately cursing yourself for acting before thinking. What am I doing? I was almost free to go back to ignoring him!

He turned, raising an eyebrow at you. "Huh? D'ya need something?" He asked.

"Your name," you said before you could lose your nerve. "I've been thinking of you as Motorcycle Boy and thought I should probably learn it."

He threw back his head and laughed. Your face flushed hot again and you hoped you hadn't made a fool of yourself, especially in front of the cute boy you had been thinking about constantly for a month straight.

When his fit of laughter subsided, he grinned at you and gave you what you'd asked for. "I'm Chuuya Nakahara. And you? What name should I attach to 'Crazy Motorcycle-Hating Neighbor?"

"I do not- ugh. Y/n L/n, and I am not crazy. If anyone is crazy here, it's you. Seriously, who thinks it's time to play with a motorcycle at midnight?" You folded your arms over your chest and frowned at him. He only grinned at you again.

"See ya around, L/n. Hopefully fully dressed next time," he teased. With that said, you parted ways, each playing with the feel of the newly acquired name in your mouth.

"Y/n L/n, eh?" He muttered, twirling the stem of a lily of the valley from your garden. It was a pretty little flower; it was a shame that it was dreadfully poisonous.

He leaned back until his head hit his pillow. He wondered if you were up or if that had been a one-time incident. He hadn't touched the bike in his garage past ten p.m. since you'd marched so boldly over to his house and chided him for the noise. He briefly thought about getting it out just to see if you would come back.

You'd been running through his mind non-stop for months now. The sight of your bare legs and glimpses of the rest of you from under that jacket had him worried that damned Dazai had rubbed off on him. He couldn't help sneaking looks at you every morning as you tended to your garden before he left for work. It felt dirty every time he looked at you, because every time he would get a vivid image of you giving him a death glare while half naked.

He was no womanizer, unlike that ass. However, he had to admit that he wouldn't mind seeing you in a state of undress again.

He sat up with a start at that thought. What am I thinking? Gross, I am not getting hot and bothered over my neighbor's legs. It's just legs. Pretty, deliciously bare legs. SHUT UP.

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the increasingly unwelcome thoughts of your legs and how your skin would feel on his fingertips, or how cute you looked when you were pouting.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. This was not good.

"Turns out he'd been having an affair the whole time. I felt so bad for her! I can't say I didn't expect it, though," your coworker said, waving a hand at you. "I mean, he just seemed like the type, y'know?"

Listening to Raina talk about other people's relationships had gotten boring after the first hour, but today had been a slow and boring day, and she didn't expect you to add very much to the conversation.

"Speaking of types, what's yours?" She popped a sucker into her mouth. She'd quit smoking about three years ago, and she'd started taking them everywhere so her mouth could be occupied whenever she felt the urge. Since then it had become a habit to have a sucker in her mouth at all times.

"I dunno, I don't think about it very often." It was a lie, but you didn't want to get into that just minutes before the day was over and you could finally go home. "I haven't really cared much about boys since I was a kid. It's not that big of a deal."

Even as you said it, you realized that wasn't true. Thoughts of a redhead on a hot pink motorcycle crossed your mind too often for it to be not a big deal. He'd even started showing up in your dreams because of how often you thought of him.

"Liar!" She slammed her hands down on the counter, grinning at you. You jumped at the sudden movement, suddenly feeling too warm for your liking. "You're all flustered and nervous! Who's the boy? Spit it out," she ordered.

"Wh-what?! There is no boy, I don't know what you're talking about!" You felt your blood rushing to your face and put your hands up in defense, but it was too late. Raina has you backed into a corner, and judging from the mischievous smirk on her face, you wouldn't be leaving until she drained every last drop of information from you like a gossip leech.

"Oh, come on! It's written all over your face. Tell me about him! Is he cute?" She clapped, way too excited for a conversation that would make you stay even later for work than necessary.

You looked around desperately for an escape. The ring of the front door's bell gave you that out, even if it didn't help you leave any quicker. Not having to tell Raina about Chuuya was all you needed.

You turned with the biggest smile you could manage on your face to greet the customer. However, the second you saw him, your smile fell. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, you mentally sighed. Even just thinking about him seems to make him appear. And now he knows where I work. Fantastic.

Chuuya stopped in the doorway, taking in the strange situation he had walked in on. His eyes caught on how Raina's arms had caged you in and how obviously out of sorts you looked. "Am I… interrupting something?"

Raina jumped off of you and cleared her throat, returning her sucker to its place on her tongue. "Not at all! What can we help you with?"

Her professionalism once a customer stepped in scared you just a little bit. You followed her lead and dusted off your knees, looking away. The last thing you needed was for him to start teasing you as well.

"I was actually here to pick up an order. I know it's late, but-"

"I'll get it for you! Nakahara. I thought the name was familiar," you commented. Actually, you'd been wondering if the order was his all day long. You hadn't placed him as a red velvet guy, but here he was.

While looking through (hiding in) the back, you tried to think of an escape plan. Anything to stop Raina from teasing you for the next few months. She was already insufferable about boys, and if she knew that you had a stupid crush on that stupid redhead with his stupid motorcycle, she would never let you live it down.

"So are you going to tell me what about you made Y/n hightail it out of here, or do I have to make a guess myself?" Raina leaned forward against the front desk, pointing her sucker accusingly at Chuuya.

"Hey, I didn't do anything!" Chuuya raised his hands in mock self-defense, trying not to grin. He'd seen how flustered you'd gotten the second you recognized him. He hoped it was more than just embarrassment of seeing someone you know outside of work walk into your workplace.

"Mhm, sure. How do you know them? Boyfriend? Relative..?" She watched him carefully for his reaction. She was nothing if not good at pulling gossip out of thin air, and your love life was her current muse.

"Neither," he chuckled. "I'm their neighbor. They got pissed as hell at me for being too noisy in the middle of the night and mouthed me off in my own yard. Ever since we seem to be running into each other everywhere."

Raina hummed, sizing him up. After a moment of thinking, she decides you two are obviously in love and she will be involved no matter what the costs. "You know, our shift is about done for the day. Autumn has been coming in quickly and it's been pretty cold lately. Y/n was complaining about walking home in the cold just yesterday. It's a decently long walk to their house from here. Like a whole 40 minutes, right?"

She watched as the gears started moving in his brain. Thank gods, he's not dense. This guy knows what I'm getting at.

He seemed to come to a conclusion just as you reappeared from the back, looking suspiciously more put together than you did just seconds ago. Raina almost wanted to laugh at how obvious you were.

"Your shift is almost over, right? It's pretty cold. I could take you home if you want," he suggested as he took the box from you.

"You would?" You asked, seeming almost stunned by the offer. You blinked at him a couple times before muttering, "I guess that would be nice."

"It's not like it's out of the way of anything." He waved a hand at you as he spoke. "I'll be waiting for you outside."

You nodded and hurried to gather your things into your bag. You carefully avoided answering any of Raina's enthusiastic questions before escaping the building and arriving in the small parking lot.

Your favorite part about the location was how much attention was put into the surrounding scenery. Shrubbery and other assorted vegetation provided scents and colors you didn't get in busier parts of the city. Even walking home, there was very little open area that made you feel like you could be seen from miles away. It was comforting to feel so grounded by your surroundings.

There, in the tiny parking lot that was usually empty, stood your neighbor, who was busy strapping his newly acquired box to the back of his motorcycle.

"You ever been on a bike before?" He didn't spare you a glance as he asked.

"No," you said. "Should I be worried?"

He grinned and didn't respond. He handed you a spare helmet and motioned for you to join him on the motorcycle.

You hesitated for a moment, thinking through all the decisions you had ever made, and after ultimately deciding that this was not the stupidest one, took the helmet from his outstretched hand.

The fact that you would get to hold him had no sway on your decision at all. You swore.

The second you heard the engine start up and felt your weight shift as the bike prepared to move, butterflies erupted in your stomach. The kind that you get before you fall down the stairs or trip on the sidewalk. The, 'oh fuck this is bad' kind of butterflies. But it was too late to get off.

Chuuya tried not to notice how nice it felt when you squeezed him tighter. He could feel your heart racing from where your chest pressed against his back.

He laughed, he couldn't help it. He heard you grumble something from behind him, but couldn't really make out what you were saying. It didn't matter; he had a pretty good idea of what the message was. He bit his tongue to keep from laughing harder as he merged onto the highway.

"Stupid Chuuya, stupid motorcycle," you muttered against his back. Feeling how fast you were moving was not helping the dizziness you had developed. You closed your eyes and held on tighter to the man in front of you, trying to focus on something else, like the texture of his jacket or how nice his hair smelled. You didn't care if it was stupid crush behavior, you needed anything to distract you.

Your heart was beating so fast that you could beat a hummingbird for the world record of beats per minute. Every little movement of the vehicle beneath you brought a fresh wave of panic. You couldn't understand why people would do this for fun.

Eventually you grew used to the constant panic and closed your eyes, blindly trusting Chuuya to get you home without killing the both of you.

When you finally felt the motorcycle stop, you fell off and shakily removed the spare helmet Chuuya had given you. He looked down at you with a crooked grin, obviously struggling to hold back his laughter.

"So, how did you l-like it?" He snickered. The look you shot at him only served to make him dissolve into a fit of laughter.

"Never… again…" You huffed, pushing your hair out of your face and curling up on the ground in front of his house. "Next time, I'm walking. I don't care how cold it is."

"Good luck with that," he grinned. "Oh, and thanks for the cake." He grabbed the box, waved goodbye to you, and went inside.

You stood and watched him leave, placing a hand on your chest. Your heart was racing. You wondered if it was from the terrifying ride or… something else.

reblogs and comments are much appreciated!!!