#if this interests you pls do check it out. to put it simply its an au where erik was killed on cuba

[trashno0dle]

between rage and serenity // an xmen au

summary:

All along Erik had been right. Peace, never really was an option. Nor had it ever been part of the question. Charles had just been far too blind, too ignorant to see the truth of that simple fact. So, a voice in the back of his mind murmurs, what are you going to do about it? ~~~ The events of Cuba happen very differently and Charles is forced to live with the aftermath. As he starts to spiral, losing himself in his grief and rage, he makes a vow on Erik's memory that he will create the world that he had wanted for mutants, no matter who or what may stand in his path. Meanwhile, Raven, thinking about the different future she could've had, slowly but surely ends up working through her own pain thanks to the aid of her loved ones. All while she's forced to watch the man she grew up with, her very own brother, lose himself in his own in the process.

snippet from the newest chapter (ch4) below the cut !!

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Once, Charles was a patient man, he could withstand the time it took for certain things to unfold, understanding of the time required to complete such a task like this. Now, however, he’s far from patient. Time isn’t on their side, there very well could be some unforeseen threat lurking around the corner, poised and ready to strike at them at their most vulnerable. He knows how the minds of men work now, he’s spent enough time thinking over each sickening thought overheard in their heads. They’ll wait for the perfect opportunity, use their grief against them and slaughter them like animals. These thoughts seem less like his own and more like Erik’s, he’d been right to distrust the humans, correct in his way of thinking, Charles should’ve listened when he had the chance.

It’s been only a night since his conversation with Hank and waiting isn’t getting any easier, nor is waking up, he finds. How is it that he’s become so horribly dependent on such a foul liquid to unfocus his mind in such a short amount of time? He figures, maybe it’s because he was slightly dependent to begin with, he recalled his early twenties in a sort of bliss, he’d been quite the heavy drinker, he supposed he’d just fallen back into old bad habits. Though worse, quite worse this time around. Raven had been the one to give him a rather harsh wake up call both times things had reached a certain point. There aren’t words to describe just how grateful he is to her for that.

But he hates it, oh he hates being awake, forced to simply exist in a world without him. It’s that unbearable ache in his chest, the chasm in his very soul where Erik’s had resided, both so impossibly intertwined and suddenly everything was ripped away all in an instant. It leaves him bleeding on the scorching sand, choking beneath the thunderous waves of the ocean and swept away from the shore by the relentless tide. Charles curses himself for even wishing for death, as much as he so desperately longs for the silence it would bring, what would Erik think of him if he were to end his own life without seeking the revenge he so desired. It’s that thrill, the rush, the need to avenge his dear one that keeps him going.

In truth, it scares him, if only a little. The idea that he can lose so much of himself in his grief, all his anger. Erik had already taken the majority of his soul with him when he'd been slaughtered, now all that's left is a few shattered pieces that are impossible to fit together, not without the missing remnants which are now lost for good. He's broken, impossibly so, detached from himself in a way that makes it difficult to focus on anything except the few driving forces left in his life, keeping him going and awake through all this pain. 

He's barely coherent, he wants nothing more than to fall into a dreamless sleep, preferably one which he'll never wake from. Unfortunately, the universe is never so kind to him, it took Erik away from him after all. No, not even fate could be so cruel. Humanity, it was humanity that lashed out in their fear and took the person who he loved so completely, ripped him from his life and continued to taunt him every moment. Asleep, awake, he's always reliving the same nightmare of that cursed beach and a sight he'll never be able to unsee for as long as he lives.

A silent shot. The agonizing pull of Erik’s mind being torn, their connection shattered in one instant. Red, redredredred—

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Hello it's me again the Sharkie anon, I hope I didn't bother you too much with my request but if you did please tell me so i can limit my portion. Your writings and story delivering are one of my favorites here and really I can't thank you enough for my previous reqs because they're just excellent and well written *happy cries*.

*Cough cough* btw this is more like an ask, mmm what do you think about TF141 reaction when they see reader wearing face jewelry like face chain https://images.app.goo.gl/7XVrRfjxWJNQrXfw6

Maybe a random soldier from other task force brought it for disguise purpose and reader tries it on, or simply reader just loves jewelries and when there's a party she choose to wear it – its up to you for the scenario. Aaaaand well, to make it better, let's combine those face jewelries with this outfit and hairdo reference (sorry for using kpop reference) https://images.app.goo.gl/7XTz3HQ8Fgg9kAGE7

Thank you, hope your April's great

Hello sharkie 🦈 ! please feel free to send me ideas/requests, although it may take a few days to finish because irl things, but I love to do them, and I’m so happy to see you coming back to my blog! and tyvm for the kind words, I’m the one who needs to thank you 🥹💖 I hope your life’s doing well too!

I’m glad you like the previous reqs!! but I’m afraid that you might be disappointed to this one, cause I never heard of face chains before omgggg, I tried my best but sorry in advance if this sucks 🥲 (and pls don’t apologize for the refs anything is okay for me!)

TF141 men seeing you wearing face chain for party ( you guys go to the party together)

Price

He hasn’t heard about face chains before. He’s too busy (and not really interested), and rarely pays attention to what is trending lately, but when you walk out of the dressing room with those dazzling chains decorating across your face, he just stands there confused and in awe.

He can’t stop staring at you, the sky-blue jewel on your face chain just suits your gown so much, and them shining under the chandelier when you sway your hips and stroll to his side makes him feel like a teenager infatuated with a girl again.

It’s inconvenient for him to kiss you though, because it might tangled with his beard. You two will laugh when he leans down to give you a peck on your lips and then the face chain entangles your long hair with his beard.

You will find his search history flooded with face chains after the party. What you don’t know is he already bought a few chains he thinks might fit you and can’t wait to let you wear them for him

Soap

This man will demand to wear a matching face chain with you, don’t forget to tell him what kind of chain you’re wearing for the party, so he’s able to get one in time

Shows you and himself off to everyone he meets at the party, forcing everyone to admit it suits you guys (well they aren’t lying)

Insist on putting the face chain on your face himself, surprisingly careful when doing it, but it’s impossible for him not to keep pressing kisses during the process, so remember to start dressing earlier than usual or you guys might be late

He will kiss your ears a lot. He loves how the face chain disappears into your hair and then hangs from your ears. He finds it sexy that the chains are merging with your outfit and whole figure like you are a divine gift. (he can’t wait for the party to end and unwrap his gift back home)

Gaz

He’s the one laying out a bunch of face chains for you to choose, and of course, he has checked what you’re going to wear when attending the party, so every face chain he fishes out is just the best one to bring out your beauty.

How is he able to stop praising you when he sees you wear the face chain he picks for you? Since the first time he learned about face chains he yearns for a chance to see you wear it.

He restrains himself from sucking a hickey just below your ears even though he knows it will look perfect beside your face chain, but he makes sure to take a mental note, reminding himself to do it after the party.

When someone asks about your face chain, he will proudly tell them he chose it for you. Your girl friends are crazy for the pretty face chain and ask if they can have a close look, they attentively touch and observe it, and that’s how you find out there’s a K.G. engraved on one of the pendants.

Ghost

He hates parties, and has been grumpy and annoyed for it the past few days, but the tantrum vanishes the second he finds you dressed up in the blue dress adorn with white silk like you’re some fallen angel, and takes out your face chain ready to put it on.

He doesn’t know about face chains either, and doesn’t own one to match with you even if he craves one right now, so he wears a pair of earrings that are similar to the design of your face chain.

He likes to show off his beautiful partner, others should know how majestic his partner is, but he stays close to you and sends death stares to those who dare to look at you with dirty thoughts inside their mind, moreover, he likes to be at your side and help you adjust the chain when it accidentally stucks with your hair (he take these chances to touch your face and soft hair)

Discover he loves chains as apparel for you, the face chain, the silver necklace made with a chain and little pendants on you opens the door to a new world for him. Don’t be too surprised when next time you open the gift box and find an exquisite pair of lingerie with chains as decorations.

[pinkslashersimp]

Hello! May I request headcanons for NBC’s Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham with a Venom!fem!reader? The reader has a symbiote like her fellow investigative journalist Eddie Brock, but has not told her partners about her ‘little friend’ or that she eats really, very bad people until another symbiote, Carnage, shows up and attacks them on a night around the town or when they are all about to have dinner in Hannibal’s home? Thank you so much!

╰┈➤ Note: Hello!!! sorry this took so long, I’m volunteering (childcare practitioner) and I work as a chef on the weekend so my spare time is almost none existent 😭 this is my first time writing for someone with powers(???) - which i may start doing in the future bc my Marvel interest has peaked 👀 - so pls forgive me if this isn’t the best or is a little sloppy T-T

✎ Synopsis: You and Eddie both share a dark secret, which Hannibal and Will both suspect may be cannibalism. But when an enemy attacks, how will your work partners react to your true self?

Of course you’d kept it secret, had you told anyone, let alone Hannibal, about your or Eddies “little secret” it’s no doubt you both would’ve been institutionalised immediately.

You were very, very, sneaky about who you ate and where. Picking off rude people you saw in the store, men who are too crude to women, or following drivers who drive like dicks off the road to devour. People nobody would necessarily miss too much. They were never reported as murders, either, just missing.

Since you and Eddie are investigative journalists you would be assigned to these cases with the aid of Hannibal, but would quickly drop them, as there is “insufficient evidence” and it “simply could be anyone”

Hannibal believes you’re both lazy at first, dismissing cases, until he realises there’s a common theme going on between you both. People go missing in the same area, you’re both assigned to the case with his help, and suddenly the case is dropped with you both acting suspicious.

He, of course, does not think you’re symbiote. Just a classic cannibal murderer.

Will has his suspicions too, but instead of believing you’re cannibal murderers he simply believes perhaps you both know something about the missing people that you aren’t saying for whatever reason.

It displeases them both greatly.

Hannibal and Will both agree that the best course of action would be to host a dinner party at Hannibal’s home, to gain trust and open a discussion about the missing people.

And to potentially see if you recognise the taste of human meat…

You and Eddie both turn up to the party, in your smartest attire, ignoring the very sarcastic comments the symbiotes make as you both get ready.

When you are both seated, Hannibal and Will share glances with one another

You and Eddie share a glance too, after tasting the meat, silently confirming exactly what you have both just put in your mouthes. And Hannibal catches onto this.

He glances over at Will again, and before he can say anything a loud crash comes from the back of the dining room, as the window shatters upon impact when a giant, red symbiote with rage in its eyes crashes in

“What the FUCK-!?” Will shouts, pulling out his gun and firing into it as much as he can.

Hannibal stands and quickly moves away from it, as it snarls and takes every bullet from Wills gun. It turns to both you and Eddie as Venom emerges from you both, emerging from your skin like a sick, black, sweat.

Hannibal and Will both stand back in the doorway, watching in confused horror as the three of you fight it out in their dining room, you and Eddie quickly overpower carnage and he turns on his tail and runs out into the night, howling about coming back.

You both turn back and check on each other, before turning to your horrified friends in the corner.

“what the fuck was that…” Will asks, his gun pointed at the both of you, whilst Hannibal desperately tries to process what just happened.

Looks like you’ve both got too much explaining to do.

[tapwater118]

pinned post jumpscare blauughh

pronouns.cc | strawpage

hiya i’m flower!

i'm plural i think. i (the host) also go by golf ball, GB, box, gaty, maddie, tap water, tap, captain coinpin (<- silly), etc. queer person on the internet with too many names, check

collectively tap/tap water, she/they, 22 y.o. (individual names/pronouns can be found in the pronouns.cc)

fictkin with a bunch of weird blorbos (if you couldn’t tell from the first part) and a-ok with doubles! friends from across the multiverse

i like various things and then will proceed to draw them. big fat bfdi/osc special interest mostly (i am a huge multishipper (based) btw so erm yeah)

feel free to use my art and such as pfps/banners/whatever, just give credit pls

let the record show that i am bad at using social media so uh i am probably a terrible mutual sorry in advance

also if i like over explain something to you please do not take it as a slight against you, i am just autistic (as if it wasn’t obvious)

if ya wanna know more, feel free to shoot up the ask box or dms, i love answering questions. i also like taking requests over asks! just note that it may be some time before i get around to your request

(regarding dms, please come in with something more than ‘hi’. i’m not comfortable initiating conversation with someone im not familiar with.)

(also don’t flirt with me. you don’t have a rat’s chance)

strawpage stuff and other incoherent ramblings are over at @taps-other-blog so look there!

also pleeease tag fireafy neg around me ty. im not even really attached to that ship its just neg about it can really put me in a bad mental state for some unknown and probably dumb reason

if you ship and/or support adult/minor, incest, zoo, etc get tf away from me ewwwwww nasty

also no label discourse if you partake in that i am blowing you up with my mind

things you’ll probably see me blabber about/draw at some point:

object shows (particularly bfdi, but i also fw inanimate insanity, hfjone, boto, animatic battle, tr125, orb, tnm, burner, object kerfuffle, love of the s*n, ppt2, itft, ee, and others im probably forgetting) (oh and idfb fear garden tee hee)

mario

kirby

pikmin

undertale/deltarune

pizza tower

fnf

homestuck

fnaf

petscop

horror stuff in general

regretevator

to be expanded once i remember more stuff

(art may be suggestively crude in humor but never nsfw)

(also if you ask i can always add tags to stuff if you have something in particular you want to mute, i dont mind)

i am working on some cool projects i think you should check them out because they are cool:

Occasionally Coinpin: hosted over at @occasionallycoinpin. posting coinpin, occasionally (the main reason you don’t see coinpin content here all that often)

Book Askblog: hosted at @twotonedhardcover, where i pretend to be a gay little novel for shits and giggles

Battle for Hopes and Dreams: a bfdi x undertale au that puts the characters of bfdi in the world of undertale. tagged as “#battle for hopes and dreams”

Competition for Fantasy Retreat: a bfdi swap au that swaps characters’ compositions and parts of their personalities. tagged as “#competition for fantasy retreat”

BfDI 1990: an unfiction reimagining of bfdi as an NES game from 1990. tagged as “#BfDI1990” (unreality content warning for this). please note that this is NOT an ARG, there is no game or puzzle to be solved, it is simply unfiction

Tap’s BFDI D-Side: a bfdi d-side take, where characters’ designs and personalities are remixed for something new and refreshing! (based on fnf d-sides obviously) tagged as “#tap’s bfdi d side”

BFDI Redux: a hypothetical bfdi season 6, featuring many of the tpot rejects as well as underutilized veterans. tagged as “#bfdi redux”

OSC horror content: i like turning the silly blorbos into fucked up evil creatures. general tag is “#FLApasta” but each story has its own separate tag (general content warning for these)

other tags i’ll use frequently i think:

“#asks” all the crud that ends up in my inbox and also some very nice things. it is a mystery

“#yap fest” for general inane ramblings. i say some very stupid things

“#ultra yap fest” for long posts, including rants and character analyses

“#slop tier post” art and other things that are generally below a certain threshold of quality i hold for myself. i’m probably too harsh on myself but oh well

“#word salad yummy yummy” fanfic stuff. im on ao3 and wattpad if ya didnt know

“#top tier post” “#all the day every day” “#one for the ages” posts that i really really like. usually from moots

“#literally me” fictkin id posts. you get it. no you don’t. i don't get it either

“#oiny” wife

list of Friends :D

@booktaggy

@bottle-ditzy

@depraced

@lemonxlimee

@l1ghtbulb

@novaazurite

@ohmysheetmetal

@onion-makes-stimboards

@sourscheming

@therandomcreechur

@twig-gy

[pichiru]

The Sun Also Smiles - Chapter 8

Chapters - [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Summary - With Mabel and Dipper's 16th birthday party on the horizon, Grunkle Stan takes to online dating to find a date for the party. Things start to get real weird real fast.

Word Count - 3,861

Pairing(s) - Stan Pines x OC

Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, Mystery

A/N: I'm soooooo sorry this chapter is so far apart from my other ones as far as release goes. I was battling w myself a lot about how I wanted to proceed with certain parts of the story. And a lot of sitting and thinking. A lot.

I'm also looking for beta readers if anyone is interested! U must be up to speed with the tv show's lore and u must be 18+ years old bc there's adult content in this story. Pls comment if this is something ur interested in and we can talk details :3 <3

Enjoy!!

--------

The following morning, Solana's phone was ringing relentlessly. The sound quickly became grating on the ears which caused her to wake up and roll away from Stan to look at it.

Of course. It was Chip. She rolled her eyes and answered the phone.

"What do you want, Chip?" She asked in a groggy voice while rubbing her face.

"I seem to remember politely asking you to come in early this morning," he said, his creepy smile evident in his voice. Solana snuggled down into the bed and closed her eyes in response to that.

"I was out late last night. I came home and went right to sleep," she lied smoothly. "Not that it's any of your business."

"It is when my manager doesn't show up like I ask her to," he replied simply.

"Well the manager isn't even on the schedule for today. The owner would know that if he actually looked at the schedule he makes," Solana said, attitude clear in her voice.

"You're such a little firecracker. I love that about you. See you in a hour?" He asked dismissively.

"No, I'm not coming in. I'm tired," Solana said firmly.

"Solana, you and I both know that you gave that old guy's kids a pretty big discount on stuff. I could have you apprehended by the authorities for theft. You know very well that I could."

Solana opened her eyes and looked around at the stuff in the room around her without moving. "It's literally 7 in the morning. Can I come in at noon?" she bargained quietly.

"10," he replied simply.

"10:30."

"Fine," Chip sighed heavily. "10:30 and not a second later."

"Whatever." Solana hung up the phone and put it back down on the side table where it was before. She turned onto her side away from Stan and snuggled back down into the bed, ready to go back to sleep for the time being. She suddenly felt an arm finding its way to wrap around her waist to gingerly pull her backwards towards the middle of the bed.

Stan nuzzled his face into the nape of Solana's neck and slowly inhaled her scent. She still smelled nice even the next morning.

"G'mornin," he grumbled, his eyes still closed.

"Not yet," Solana snickered, trying to get comfortable again. She turned back to look at him. There was an eerie air of silence before she let out a scream and rolled away from Stan until she fell off of the bed, tangled in the sheet.

"Whuzzat?!" Stan blurted, now fully awake from her screaming in his face. "Are ya okay, toots?" he asked, getting closer to the edge of the bed to check on her. He reached out his hand to help her but he stopped when he noticed something. His hands. They were...smooth. No wrinkles.

He twisted his hands every which way he could to get a better look. His gaze fell onto Solana who was looking up at him with wide eyes. Her expression was almost unreadable. It was a wild mixture of shock, intrigue, and confusion.

"What? Is there somethin on my face?" Stan asked, touching his face all over until he got to his hair. He stopped. His hair was thicker and...and longer?

“Stanley?!” Ford called out from outside of the room. He came busted into the room and looked between the two of them. His dread set in when he saw his brother.

Solana quickly covered herself up in a presentable way in the sheet she was tangled up in. She stared at Ford then at Stan back and forth a few times before she let out a small squeak.

“Y-You guys weren’t kidding about you having a twin,” Solana managed to say to break the silence in the room.

Ford blushed when he realized she was practically naked. “I have so many things to say and ask,” he said, running a hand through his hair, averting his eyes from Solana to respect her privacy.

“I’ll start. Sixer, what the HELL is going ON?” Stan asked as he moved to get out of the bed. Thank god he still had his boxers on at least. Ford was thankful for that. He immediately went to the first reflective surface he could find and looked in it.

His eyes widened in complete disbelief at the familiar face he once knew. He looked down at his hands again then closer at his facial features. “H…How…? What…?” He stammered.

Ford gulped quietly once the reality of the situation set in.

“Stanley, were you rummaging through my fridge AGAIN? I’ve told you repeatedly not to do that,” Ford said sternly.

Stan thought about it long and hard. Did he really go through the fridge? He did.

“All I had was the stupid water ya had in your fridge after you made me run fifty leven miles on the fuckin treadmill!”

Ford’s expression shifted from shock to pure dread. He was silent for a moment before he blurted, “THAT WASN’T WATER, STANLEY!”

“Then WHYYYY for the love of GOD did it look like water?!” Stan shouted back.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about! Stay out of my fridge!”

Stan laughed in complete astonishment. “Are ya kiddin me?? I think this is exactly the thing I need to worry about right now. What the HELL did I drink??” He asked, walking up to Ford, angry now.

Ford sighed heavily and caved. “It’s a concoction I was working on to take the human body back to whenever it peaked physically health wise.”

Stan stood there, quiet. He couldn’t believe this was happening. “I peaked in my 30s?” He said, impressed at that while rubbing his chin.

“Apparently,” Ford replied, rolling his eyes.

“Why…Why are ya makin somethin like this?” Stan asked after a few moments of thinking.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ford replied curtly. “Good morning, by the way,” he said, looking to Solana. “It’s not usually that craz-“

“Don’t lie to her like that,” Stan laughed, gently shoving Ford.

Solana got up, keeping the sheet tightly wrapped around her body. “Oh! I see. Uhm…it’s nice to meet you?” She replied awkwardly. “Sorry I didn’t meet you in…better circumstances.”

“It’s alright. I’m Stanford,” he said simply.

“Nice t—“ She stopped when she remembered she’d already said that and shook her head a little to reset. “I'm Solana.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Ford said with a nod. He stood there for a moment before turning back to Stan. “I’ll figure out how to get this reversed in no time.”

“What? No. I think I’m likin this,” Stan said quickly, adjusting his hair in the reflective surface he was in before. “I’m a hunk again. Look! No gut!” He laughed happily, patting his stomach.

Solana frowned slightly. “I think you were a hunk before too,” she added in a quiet voice.

Stan stopped to look at Solana and made an expression that couldn’t really be read. “Thanks,” he said, his voice full of gratitude.

“Yeah!” She responded with a smile.

"Do ya think this is gonna wear off any time soon?" Stan asked his brother.

"I should hope not. I made it to be permanent," Ford admitted.

Stan's eyes widened to the size of moons. "Y'mean...I...I just have to relive the last 30 years of my life?"

Ford winced gently as he adjusted his clothes a little. "It's possible. Very possible."

Stan's entire face lit up excitedly. "I get to...I get to live my life again as me? Instead of tryin to be you?"

His brother cleared his throat a little and nodded. "Yes, I suppose that's what it means."

Stan grinned from ear to ear before hugging Ford and kissing his cheek. "Ford, ya beautiful son of a bitch!" He exclaimed happily, borderline crying.

Solana stood there, unsure of what to do or say in this situation. She was definitely happy for Stan but she was unsure about what this meant for them going forward. Maybe he'd go off and find someone else to date around with. He was old. Maybe he felt like she was the only option he had at that age. This was super uncharted territory for her. It was for all of them. She wasn't even sure how this...potion?...worked and she was too scared to ask, frankly.

"Ya wanna go out for breakfast, toots?" Stan asked Solana, walking over to her. "I feel like a million bucks! I feel like I could do 1,000 jumpin jacks or pushups."

She blinked, bringing herself back to the present moment with Stan. "Breakfast? Are you sure it's okay for you to...like...go out like this? Doesn't everyone here know you as an older guy?"

"Look, if they can not question Sixer comin back after 30 years with no explanation and the world almost ending, then they can handle this too. Don't worry."

"30 years? The world ending???" Solana asked incredulously. She was so flabbergasted that he said all of that so simply as if it was something so easily digestible.

"I forgot I actually haven't known ya that long. I can explain if ya agree to go to breakfast with me? Since we didn't get to have dinner last night like we planned," Stan chuckled, rubbing his neck nervously.

Solana was staring at Stan's features. Despite how young he was now, it was still him. Wholeheartedly. She smiled at him and nodded. "Yeah. I'll go to breakfast with you. Just...lemme take a shower first?" she chuckled gently. "Desperately need one."

"Oh, yeah yeah. Feel free. Ya know where the bathroom is. Have at it," Stan offered, motioning gently with both hands for her to go.

"Thanks, handsome," Solana said as she stretched up on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek. Somehow he was even taller at this age. She smiled at him then left the room to go into the bathroom.

Almost as if on cue, her phone started ringing again. Stan's curiosity got the better of him and he peeked over to see who it was. It said, 'Big Will 💓' again.

"Who the hell is this Will person??" Stan said quietly.

"Is it another guy?" Ford asked, moving closer to his brother's side to see what her phone said.

"Dunno. Hope not. Really hopin not," Stan replied honestly.

"Maybe it's just a friend or something?" Ford suggested.

"Do friends really call and text this often?" Stan asked, scratching his head.

"Well, yes. If you have them."

"Fuck off."

Ford snickered. "Sorry. I couldn't resist. It was such an easy target," he laughed while being punched in the arm by Stan.

Stan watched the phone ring until it was done then looked at Ford. "I'm kinda nervous about it bein another guy. I know I have no right. Us not actually datin and all but still."

"Ask her about it," Ford tried.

"Ford, for god's sake. We've only been on one date. I can't just question a gal like that about what goes on with her phone."

"Why not?"

"Jesus, Ford. Ya really have no etiquette," Stan sighed.

"And you do?" Ford asked, confused.

"More than you! But I guess when the person you're tryin to woo is also in his 60s and has been out of it for the last 30 years, shit's different."

Ford blushed and punched Stan's arm. "HOW do you know about that?"

"Walls are thin, Fordsie. Walls are thin. Paper thin."

"Anyway, gonna let you and your lady friend get ready for your second date in 24 hours."

"It's not a date! It's called being a gentleman. Somethin ya know nothin about," Stan grumbled angrily as he walked across the room picking up Solana's belongings to put them in the same spot for her.

"Happy to see your heart didn't give out," Ford dismissed, watching his brother. "I was worried."

"Awwwww. Look at ya. Worried about lil ole me. How sweet," Stan teased with a laugh.

"Shut up," Ford huffed, turning away from Stan and folding his arms. He hated when Stan used his brotherly affection against him sometimes.

Stan laughed as he grabbed Solana's dress then left the room to go knock on the bathroom door.

"Solana?" he said loud enough for her to hear over the water.

"Yeah?" she called back at the same volume.

"Can I come in and give ya your dress?"

"Yeah, come in!"

Stan opened the door and quickly folded her dress up and put it on the sink counter. "I didn't know if ya wanted to uh...run from here to the room with my brother down here and all," he said loudly.

"Oh, yeah! Thanks! I was thinking about that actually," she laughed gently. "I appreciate it a lot. You're so sweet."

Stan's entire face flushed as he tried to hide a smile that she for certain wouldn't be able to see either way. "Yeah. No problem," he said with a nod.

"I'll be out in a few!"

"Take your time! I want ya to be able to get yourself together at your pace. Even though ya have to go in later for work."

Solana groaned. "Don't even remind me. I wish I could find a creative job that'd treat me better," she said, mostly to herself.

"A creative job? Like what?" Stan asked curiously, leaning onto the counter and folding his arms.

"Hmm...I'd love to draw for kids' books. That's the dream right there. I'd love to do that for the rest of my life if it paid me well enough," she admitted in a shy tone.

Stan mulled over her words for a while. "That sounds pretty stable and fun. There's always gonna be kids and they're always gonna wanna read to learn more. So there wouldn't be any shortage of opportunities."

"Yeah exactly. I'm just in the midst of trying to find an agent and get my work out there. It's been...tough. So I'm just working at Chip's place until I take off then I'll never have to see that creep again."

He winced slightly, agreeing with her on that sentiment.

"Sometimes I feel like Chip is a creature of the night or something. Guy never takes his sunglasses off. Either that or he just is always hung over or something," Solana joked.

Stan stopped in his tracks at her comment. Maybe he actually was something? But it was also just as likely for him to be a regular creep. He'd have to table that thought for later discussion with Ford. Maybe even Maze if he was desperate enough.

“Yeah…that’s…something,” he said thoughtfully. “I just hate that ya gotta work for him. He’s kinda…” “Pig headed? Disgusting? Grosssssss? Need I go on?” Solana laughed.

Stan laughed along with her. “No thanks. I’m good on that, actually. No need.”

Solana laughed even more. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

Stan laughed to himself some more. He stood there in silence for a moment before he realized that he was actually in the bathroom while she showered.

“Oh, I should probably get goin so ya can come out and do your business.” “Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked already,” she chuckled.

Stan blushed and rubbed his chin a little at the memory of the night before. “Yeah but like…I don’t know. Just feels awkward. Ya know?”

“If you say soooooo,” she said in a singsong voice.

He blushed even more, not sure what to say to that. “Err…see ya outside,” he said quickly as he left, not leaving time for her to respond. He closed the door behind himself, then closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh.

“Everything alright?” Ford asked.

Stan opened his eyes and jumped at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Don’t be sneakin around!” he fussed, his heart racing now.

Ford rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t be so nervous and smitten.”

“Sixer, don’t even go there with me. I could go on for hours about you and Fiddles.”

Ford was the one blushing now. “Stop bringing it up!”

“You stop first and I’ll stop next,” he snickered.

“I guess now your childishness is more appropriate for the age you’re at. Again,” Ford said, rolling his eyes and making his way back to the science-y part of the lab.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stan neverminded. He heard the water turn off suddenly which made him jump again but away from the door. He moved towards Ford, his eyes glued to the door to see if she was coming out immediately or not. When she didn’t come out, Stan looked at his brother who was staring him directly in his face with a shit eating grin.

“What?” Stan asked, getting defensive.

“I don’t think I’ve actually seen you this smitten and jumpy. Who are you? What have you done with the Stanley that was grumpier than the day is long? The one who’d curse at the sun for shining too bright???”

“Okay, okay. I got it, I got it. I still cuss at the sun. Now I’d cuss at the sun for hurting S-”

The bathroom door swung open suddenly, interrupting Stan’s train of thought. It was Solana. Finished with her shower.

“Uhhhh at the risk of being even more of a bother, you wouldn’t happen to have any lotion would you?” She asked sheepishly.

“Uh…y-yeah! I got ya.” Stan led Solana back into the bedroom. He went to the nightstand where her phone was and opened the drawer to find what he assumed was a flowery smelling lotion. He pulled it out and handed it to her. “Good?”

“Perfect,” she said sweetly, kissing Stan on his cheek. “Thank you!”

Stan blushed again, looking everywhere but her. “Yeah. No problem,” he said with a nonchalant shrug.

“You don’t have to be so mysterious just because your brother is nearby, you know,” Solana said as she sat on the bed. “And before you say you’re not, you are.”

Stan was stumped at how she just knew he was going to say something in response. He stood there, unsure of what to say next.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to stump you,” she said while she was rubbing the lotion on. “I just can read people sometimes. That’s all. And you’re an open book, Stanley Pines,” Solana said with a light laugh at the end.

Again, he didn’t know how to respond. He just stood there in mild disbelief that she was this bold with him.

“Also, brunette’s a good color on you,” she said with a light hum while she was focused on lotioning up her legs.

“Yeah?” He asked, his face red as a tomato.

“Yeah. I never would have pegged you for a brunette if I’m being honest. Totally thought black hair was the vibe.”

“I dyed it black once and I just ended up looking like I stepped straight outta the Godfather movies,” Stan sighed.

Solana laughed at that. “I would have loved to see that, honestly.”

“Maybe I’ll do it again and grow a mustache or somethin,” he teased.

“Oh my god, the Marlon Brando mustache would be fucking hilarious.”

“I’m gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse,” Stan said in his best impression of the actor.

Solana burst out laughing. “That was legit so good. You missed your calling as an actor,” she joked.

Stan laughed too, loving the energy between them at the moment. She really was just a little ray of sunshine. It was so infectious. 

Eventually, Solana finished putting lotion on and Stan was in the shower himself by this point. She slipped her shoes on then grabbed her purse and phone. She made sure she had everything and walked out of the room, straight into a staring contest with Ford, who was sitting across the open area from her. He was sitting there, watching her every move, wondering what her motives were.

“Do I…have something on my face?” Solana asked, wiping her face.

“No. I’m just trying to figure you out,” Ford said bluntly.

“Figure me out?” Solana asked, laughing faintly as she adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

“Yes. Figure you out. As much as Stanley and I fight, I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Solana made an incredulous expression. “I…I don’t know what you think this is, but I’m not in the ‘hurting people for fun’ sort of business. I’ve been hurt a lot and I wouldn’t dream of doing it to anyone else. Especially Stan. He’s a sweetheart and a perfect gentleman.”

Ford started laughing then stopped when he realized she wasn’t joking. “I can’t believe Stan is getting this sort of review from someone. It’s always grumpy or hard to deal with or crass or…some other thing that’s negative.”

“Well…I don’t know Stan too well just yet but he’s never come off as any of that to me.”

Ford nodded a bit, mulling over her words. “Who’s Will?” He asked, bluntly, again.

Solana made a face at that question. “Will? Were you looking at my phone?” She asked, clutching her purse.

“I wasn’t. Stan was though. He said he doesn’t have the credibility to ask you these sorts of questions yet but I have no stake, so.”

She grit her teeth in annoyance. “What goes on in my phone is none of your business and its not Stan’s either,” she said curtly before turning to go up the stairs.

“He just wants to be sure that he doesn’t get too involved with you and you’re…with someone else,” Ford added quickly as she turned.

Solana let out a derisive laugh. “If I was with someone else, I wouldn't be here with Stan, now would I?” She asked in a rude tone before going up the stairs, leaving no space for Ford to follow up.

Time passed as Solana waited for Stan in the store part of the shack. She didn’t know where else to sit so she just sat on the counter. It was still early in the morning so no one was there yet. Not even the new manager. As dedicated as he was.

Footsteps could be heard ascending the stairs from behind the vending machine. Solana’s heart raced at how she was going to confront Stan for looking at her phone. She wasn’t even sure if she should because it doesn’t seem like he was malicious with his intent but it was still a breach of privacy. But how could she blame him for being a little bit concerned that there was someone else in the picture?

The vending machine moved to reveal Stan in a casual white t-shirt, some jeans, and a bomber jacket that looks like it hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time. It was entirely too pristine. The gold chain from the previous night made another appearance too. He was trying to make an impression, that much was for sure. She could smell his cologne wafting from across the room. It was so intoxicating.

Is this…what he was like in the prime of his life? Suddenly she forgot why she was upset in the first place.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

[degozarumyu]

okiiii ep90 spoilers timeeeeeee (very long very rambly very image-filled post ahead)

ohhhhhhh my fucking goddddddddddddddddd aaahahjahjajhhjhudsghiuydaghuygduysajhgdjsahdha (shaking) (crying) (vibrating at dangerous speeds)

this episode completely changes the context of valvelgear not being yuuhi's disk in the s3 visual and I am!! not ok!!!!!!!!!!!!! they may be 8.88 million faceless npcs but they are my 8.88 million faceless npcs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

grrrrggahrggharhgarhghgargharaghrgaghjeagrahjgadfgdashgfghahgsda ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

HEY GUYS CHECK OUT HOW HARD I CAN CRY like ueueueueueue see kuaidul? you didn't need to become someone else to be loved by the creator bc he already loves you :((( gwahhhhhhh

can i also just appreciate how consistent they made the animation this ep like u can tell that some scenes at the end for example seem to be done by the person in charge of a lot of yuuhi duels e.g. vs tell/vs yuuna by the way they do yuamu's hair and background faces but its a lot more 'on model' than usual lol, I love their style regardless but they rly put in a lot of effort this time!!! <3<3 thank u gr staff i love u and owe u my life 💕💕💕

also. BRUH

yuuga stop disappearing for 2 seconds challenge!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I wonder if its bc now that kuai is 'dead' the creator is released? and there can only be one of them existing in that 'reality' at a time for some reason?? 🤔 or he just straight up got yoinked in the world switch lol (or with the preview showing the hat parasite aliens attacking maybe the non-kaizo parts of his weird goha president helmet thing had something to do with it haha)

after seeing it mentioned by a jp fan on twitter I've started to wonder if they rly are in some sort of alternate reality/parallel universe to 7s tho given the 'inconsistencies' e.g. questionable kamijou family timeline, luge and zaion being aliens but luke and neil being (presumably) human, aliens/mik/uts seeming to not exist in 7s era....... i'm still not even halfway through 7s so I can't speak on any of this at all lol but I found it interesting! plus they mentioned rovian and london being cousins and romin and roa also being cousins wouldn't make sense if they were descendants/ancestors :thinking:

I love basing theories and speculation purely off of 'wouldn't it be cool if...' B)

ANYWAYS the way kuai made his final perfect monster representing his ideal (merged) self in transamu prime full armour nova and yuudias could Still manage to take it from him :)))))))) can't have shit in kuaidul spacetime

haha. im so normal guys.

its a very simple solution really, love someone but are also jealous of them? simply absorb their soul and become them! gg ez

how to get the approval of your father figure that you absorbed in 1 easy step!

oh yea speaking of full armour nova who else up staring at the card art for 15 hours straight

btw i am also normal about how in this imagined fusion of their soul galaxies while it has aspects of both transamu rainac and prime the actual body is yellow bc kuai wanted to become the milky way to be closer to the creator but not necessarily become yuudias because he wanted to receive that love and acceptance for himself :))))))))

eldest sibling kuai who was made to do the hard work and raise (literally create) his other siblings without appreciation vs. 'perfect' youngest sibling yuudias who was the favourite child given everything the oldest could never have from birth................

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

im really so glad they let kuai redeem himself in the end by choosing to let himself die (?) rather than taking advantage of yuudias' kindness and possessing him.... as much as I would have adored keeping him around by letting them share the body lolol

on that note yuudias!!!!! I know boundless generosity and honesty and kindness and most significantly 'virtue' is like. the entire core of his character but bro!!!!!!!!!!!!

pls have more concern for ur own wellbeing,,,, pls,,,,,,,,,, cri

unrelated but it was interesting that the dudi ducasse aliens r actually considered velgearian too! like its something thats pretty obvious now that they've said it since like. they're literally from the velgear star cluster but still lol

the way yuuga always speaks so calmly and like he's detached from everything is so funny lol 'some problems' i mean. yeah

average sibling interaction

btw this was the face where I was like 'ohhhh' abt the lead animator bc this is The Luke Face (i just rly like how they do the lines around the sides of the eyes :3)

average sibling interaction part 2

random thought i wonder if yuuhi will still have darkness jointech tyrant after all this? or is it a card that only existed in the spacetime... did yuuhi even have a corresponding card in kuai's prime deck??? hm

look how pretty :] (too bad they fuckin. killed him LOL) (i am sad)

this is obviously nothing but.... the colours of the galaxy gem thing kinda match lol

this was cute :3 their relationship has changed so much recently that I'm still a little confused if they're meant to be like. friends or not at this point?? or if its like a 'we've been this close for this long that even if we air out our grievances and try to go our separate ways we're still in sync' kinda thing which is cute

and speaking of cute duos luge and zaion stood (i use the word stood very loosely) directly next to each other this time 🔥🔥🔥 zailugers stay winning

#nishawsweep (if velgear acts like a surname for velgearians is dudi actually a name adopted by everyone from the dudi ducasse system rather than a personal name? 🤔)

i know its been 3 eps of this now but aaa im not over how cute it is that everyone's so small compared to yuudias so they kinda look like little fairies :((((( so adorable.......... 💕💕💕

yuuga who tf r u........ who tf is the creator.......... who/what tf r the oudous........ where is everyone's parents actually

ok i have sadly hit the image limit so I will stop my ramble spam now.... grrrahhrahgrhghgarhahhrgghrgrghghgh i really really enjoyed this episode and this duel as a whole and especially kuaidul as a character!!!!!!!!!

but before I leave i just wanna say isn't zwijou's galaxy so pretty?? its like a reverse of the crab nebula... idk i just think orange and teal is one of the most colour combinations of all time :)

[not-so-superheroine]

fun fact, i live in a swamp.  no, it doesn’t smell bad. when you get to the swampy areas there are cypress trees in the water that put of the smell really good.  the marshes near the salt and brackish water that smell like the pluff mud from which the sweetgrass grows. it smellls like dead sea creatures and works like quick sand and the more tou struggle the more you sink. simply do not walk on it. i have literally never in all my years. anyway, living in a swamp is cool. there are all sorts of creatures and plants. you can find and hunt for food. i wouldn’t go swimming in it (don’t die from brain eating amoeba or gators pls. take florida level precautions bc it’s not that that different in coastal neigboring states). we also have lots of swamp themed/related events. my favorite is the hell hole swamp festival, a bomb community event where everyone comes out for essentially a swampy country fair (no rides or funnel cakes but like barbeque and cake and children’s games, and child school choirs, and fun competions. Its also home of the Hell Hole Gator Run, a 10 K. The Hell Hole Talent Show is great too. Just community members of all ages putting on performances and a dinner. If you are from the lowcountry come check it out. we admittedly can be a bit insular, but bring a friend or family and you’ll intergrate right in. express interest in them, their culture, and the geographic area and they will be happy to share.  there are state parks specifically so people can enjoy there time in said swamp. the Santee Canal park has a nature museum that’s pretty cool. you can learn about the ecology of the area and the flora and fauna there in. knowing how to navigate the swamp help the US win the revolutionary war (they didn’t have immunity against malaria and probably got attacked by gators like today’s clueless and or ignorant tourists to the southeast US. like don’t get piss drunk in an area that has deadly wild life and don’t think you’re city smarts apply in nature. they don’t. listen to locals. also don’t screw around with the gators??? we have tourists who pelt them with stones. they are opportunistic hunters who often don’t even mess with you unprompted most of the time. they are important to the enviroment and tourist foolishness can get them put down/ euthanized). i realize i keep pointing out how deadly it can be, but urban places like NYC, Philly, Los Angelos, and Chicago have their potentially deadly issues, just different ones. still places worth visiting and respecting.  but basically, i live in a swamp and it’s great actually. i often feel like Shrek when people come here to live and disrespect the area. it’s a beautiful place, ecologically important, has events you can’t find in urban areas, people (left and right politically) care about ecological preservation (hunters and fisherman are on board). don’t disrespect the swamp because the swamp WILL disrespect you. also don’t try to make it new york city or columbus. (becuse its usually and ohian. they are gentrifying the area and promoting “development” that ruins the natural beauty and ecological important cites that the locals take a lot of pride in and are essential to our way of life. literally stay in Ohio if you can’t intergrate into rural/ small towns in southeast states, deadass. i get so angry, no joke. i love my home and my swamp. the state most hated by south carolinians is ohio and there is a reason for that.) in the words of shrek which often echo in my head: “what are you doing in MY Swamp?!!!” i like it here, you should totally visit and drop you preconceptions to best enjoy the experience, and be on your toes and your best behavior if you are an ohian, because most of us already hate all things ohio and will may mess with you if you have an ohio tag on your car and tick them off on the road for diving rudely or insulting said swamp, and our preferred “lack” of development. We feel about it like shrek did tbh. we want to live in south carolina, not ohio /srs.

[mysticbewitched]

pls I've fully ask-spammed you today I'm so sorry😭 okok so I really want to get into witchcraft-- for a bunch of reasons but mainly because I know if I cast a spell for a desire, a physical desire specifically, I will fully believe it will manifest because I put work into getting what I want. and thats really the only thing im missing: full, true belief in myself. its a loophole I thought of to work around my stupidly logical brain😭

however, I have no clue where to start when it comes to finding proper resources about witchcraft and spells online-- do you think you can recommend me a couple sources if its not too much of a bother?

I get to share my witchcraft knowledge on this blog, too? This is so incredibly exciting for me. We're speaking about one of my greatest passions here.

So, for starters, I want to clarify that witchcraft is simply a practice of conscious manifestation involving the use of tools and correspondences.

Remember to keep in mind that since you are already aware of the law of consciousness and your true identity as the operant power, the spellwork is not what manifests. We both know this.

*It is you* who manifests, and it all comes from your state of mind. The power of witchcraft is not in the spell - the power always comes from you who is casting the spell. The power lies in your mindset.

The spellwork is there because it is an enjoyable and empowering way to enjoy the experience of manifesting your desires instead of deciding without the use of tools. You know?

You are casting the spell to only place your mindset in the state of the wish fulfilled. After your spell is complete, you are in the mind state of knowing that your desire is already fulfilled and inevitable to manifest.

This is how I always approach my practices: I'm simply doing the spellwork in order to put myself into the state of the wish fulfilled. This is my personal way of manifesting my desires. It's very fun, and it's incredibly empowering.

As you can see, I'm incredibly passionate about my witchcraft and spellwork. I know my stuff.

As for recommendations,

I mainly only watch two witches on youtube for inspiration, but I want to give you the heads up that they are very "law of attraction" based, and they have a huge amount of limiting beliefs.

Be sure to set aside any beliefs of theirs that do not resonate with you. We all know that we are completely limitless and omnipotent creators here.

I still choose to watch their channels because I really admire their energy, and they post really useful videos on ingredients for spellwork and the different kinds of spells that you can perform at home.

Another thing is that their mindset is what deeply inspires me because they are both so confident in their abilities and what they do as witches.

They are so confident in themselves and their own ability to manifest that absolutely nothing could ever break their faith in their spellwork.

With all of that said, I recommend checking out Arabian Conjure and Magical Witch on youtube. They often post lives and testimonials of the work they do for clients.

They are absolutely badass and simply amazing. I have great respect for them and what they do.

A good source for beginners who are interested in starting their witchcraft journey is the Witch of Wanderlust on youtube as well. She posts content tailored towards beginners.

You can feel free to check out witchcraft reddit communities, but beware - the limiting beliefs crawling the walls over there. You may find some inspiring success stories on there from other practitioners.

You can check out correspondences and the different types of spellwork. Always be sure to choose what resonates with you and figure out your own system of what tools and correspondences you want to work with. This is your personal craft.

The thing about witchcraft is that it is such a vast field of different topics to discover, and you never stop learning new things. I could go on for hours about this particular subject and there would still be so much more to learn, it's insane.

I would make a list of your interests for witchcraft and what kind of things you want to learn more about. You want to figure out your own path, what kind of practices you want to engage in, and what your interests truly are for the craft.

Start from there and research those topics.

Stay far away from the insane amount of limiting beliefs within the witchcraft community. A lot of other practitioners are very limited in their beliefs, especially when it comes to what you are able to manifest through spellwork.

Welcome to the dark side. ;)

Lastly, jump straight onto your supraliminal or subliminal for changing your mindset, love and your problems with self-doubt will simply vanish.

[kyaruun]

RAAAWR HUG! HUG! qiapyon loves being hugged :3 and squished (is a slime so squish!) hehe you are so nice and soft :>> not at all intimidating

YOU FELT LIKE A BIG BLOG just so very top tier writing. great graphic. whole package deal. there's only two possibilities that happen to follower count when you go ia:

it goes up, because people are finding you

it goes down, because people are not finding you and your followers think you are dead

THE RETURN OF NYA im so excited rawrrrrr tag me in everything

afadsfhsd me big blog... i guess i'm a big blog. i dont know why 1.1k people are still here for my shitposts

ajdslfsdf its only a few,,, a lot of my blogs are ia..... unfortunately.... and i mostly have focused on nazukisser though i literally cant stop writing for enstars its in my soul... i always strive for weekly for every fandom but darn thats really hard with the amount of shit i have going on

WAAAAAAAA i hope YOUR works get the true recognition it deserves (one day you'll write a leo fic that will become known as that leo fic (in a pos sense))

professional.... ate lis told me that i looked professional on my blogs,,, i just try. lots of trial and error and i always try to look fresh. have gone through so many phases its insane. one time i tried replicating an actual site design on tumblr while combining it w my style and it was so hard. stares at my (long gone) tori fs2 theme

RIGHT like the readers were nice, all of the people were so nice... now its too big like who is everyone... but also its kinda dead too like damn... 2023 is not anybody's year... i wish we could return to all being silly....

help me omg big blog. i mean being a writing blog the writing might as well get a pass but the graphics suck and i'm the first one to acknowledge that. i simply don't know what to do with them >< the one and only graphic i'm still head over heels for and is the reason i still haven't remade my theme is the cute cat soren did for me a looong time ago and is my current banner. it's. so. round. so cute. silly but sosososo adorable

i mean my followers have probably accepted i'm a sporadic writer and i don't really have a schedule. it hurts when you try to put out your stuff but it doesn't get attention but aaa this is the internet. there's no point in overthinking that. my one and only concern is that anons that rq something i answer a few months later manage to read their rq :(

JESUS CHRIST QIAN YOU HAVE 1.1K FOLLOWERS?!?!? big big biggest writer indeed. i just checked mine and it's 744 followers which is an insane number for someone who posts so little!! what you said about the leo fic... i can only hope. i personally think i suck at writing leo a lot. and rei. and natsume. my izumi is pretty much a mess too. see? if i love them i can't write them right. but uuuu i'd love to write a series. i've never tried that. i also considered something like a social media au bc that's usually really cute too. i don't think any of my works will ever reach that level of importance buuuuut. i'd love that

i've been working a bit on some sort of new theme for my super due revamp but i hate editing sooo much. whatever you say your themes always look super nice and cohesive <3 they're really nice to look at ;;

the fandom being big and dead (from a writing pov) is just as you said ;; i occasionally go into the tags to look for cute fanart but i don't see any writing and it's very sad. sorry to whoever might be offended by this but x readers actually carried the fandom before engstars. but we all either grew frustrated with the lack of interaction or found new interests

i simply miss that sense of community TT the nuri era... nuri feeding the entire fandom one post a day. bee coming up with the absolute prettiest things (like hello THEIR PROMPTS. i still haven't recovered from those). swanee dropping these insanely talented bombs and leaving us knocking on their askbox like "pls comeback when". soren's blog (which i actually visit from time to time bc there's a handful of fics that carry half of my mental sanity rn). runa ;;;;

see? i miss a lot of people ꒰⁎′̥̥̥ ⌑ ‵̥̥̥ ꒱ on those are only the ones that came first into mind because there are even more moots i miss... that comfy feeling of being able to jump into everyone's askbox and be silly... nostalgia hitting hard ;;; makes me think i should try to join a server(s) to try and interact with people again, even if it's just some talking from time to time

[littlemisslipbalm]

I live in the neighbourhood

When Y/N moved to Hampstead she was unaware of the implications the decision would have on the course of the rest of her life.

or

Harry is Y/N’s eccentric neighbour who sweeps her up in the whirlwind that is his life

this gif bc its maybe my favorite clip of him EVER holy fuck - this is the harry of my dreams this is the harry of i live in the neighbourhood

HEY YALL it’s been a minute and I missed yall so much and I’m just about to be on break so maybe i’ll be back to posting writing regularly but with school its so hard and I think I’ve been working on this for months so yeah <3 lol PLS PLS PLS leave me feedback and reblogs and that stuff bc otherwise my writing just feels...empty and you have no idea the smile i get when even just the tags say like “god this was everything” it can be anything honestly but it keeps my passion up. Thank you again and hope you enjoy.

Word Count: ~10k | Warnings: swearing probably? no smut (yet), rich and famous harry - mentions of Taylor Swif 

-

She considered herself an average young woman in her mid twenties. She liked screaming Taylor Swift and Megan Thee Stallion songs alone in her car and thrifting on weekends. She hated cable because of commercials and when doordash didn’t deliver all of her order. She had asthma when she worked out or the air quality was bad. She had dumb celebrity crushes that her friends and her still laughed over with every new instagram post. She had hopes and dreams she had yet to achieve and she had past trauma that many would never know about, especially at first glance.

Sure, she was successful. She would admit that. How else would she be able to afford even the modest little house she had found in Hampstead? She had studied international business in college and hopped on a plane to London the first chance she got. After a few years of a more than decent paycheck and an advantageous stimulus check from her kind parents, she was able to move out of her starter flat into the suburbs. The definitive push for the move was two-fold. Her parents wanted her to take her dog and her apartment complex was strict on no pets. Then her promotion at work - which included a pay raise - made it hard to wave off taking full ownership of her childhood ten-pound best friend.

So with life happening as it usually does, Y/N first found herself scouring Zillow, then touring homes in the area, and finally standing outside a three bedroom, two bath, two-story cream house in Hampstead. Her house.

The little moving truck she had rented sat beside her as she stared at her future. The realtor had told her they would be there in ten minutes. For the next ten minutes all Y/N had to do was keep herself from combusting, or worse, sobbing.

She felt overwhelmed already. Renting a flat in London was one way to describe herself as independent. Owning a home in Hampstead seemed like a whole new level of adulthood she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for.

After taking a few deep breaths to ground herself, Y/N walked up to the gate that kept her front yard narrowly separated from the sidewalk. She lifted one hand from beneath the box she clutched tightly to her chest to push past the iron-rod gateway. The garden was cute, a little bland, and she thought to herself that maybe she’d develop some gardening skills now that she had her own front yard. The thought made her smile a little, refraining from laughing aloud while on her lonesome, since she had never taken interest in gardening before. But this house. This house. It was a new beginning. It was a fucking unwritten journal. Blank film. Unknown territory. She could be anyone in this house.

She gently placed the cardboard box on the first step up to the front door. There was no porch, but she couldn’t complain. It was gorgeous and she was lucky to get it at the price she did. The house was cream with dark blue accents and a grey shingled roof. Lots of windows. It was classic and it was hers.

After the realtor came with her keys and made sure everything seemed alright, Y/N’s couple of friends, Amélie and Daniel, arrived with their cars filled with items she had needed picking up from various stores. They helped her move her stuff into the house. Thankfully it was already half furnished, meaning she didn’t have to go out and buy beds or couches or any of those big items that are both expensive and a hassle to deal with.

By the time the evening had rolled around, everything was in the house and it actually seemed semi put together. Y/N looked around, sweat apparent on her face and hands on her hips, proud of what she had accomplished. The nerves from earlier had been drowned by pride.

-

The next day, she woke up from her first night in the house. It felt like a dream even though she was sure she was awake.  

She had to navigate her way to the airport today to pick up her dog from his long flight and then mainly settle into the house. Her house sat on Sherwood Avenue, one of the many streets in Hampstead. It’s neighboring houses were much larger. The ones directly next to and across from her weren’t drastically bigger but what she had yet to learn was that next to the house across from her there were two houses that had been joined together by their slightly eccentric owner. A man who would be the match that ignited the flame that was the rest of her life.

This unknown fact quickly became known after Y/N’s first few weeks in her new neighbourhood. The eccentric - more so absurdly rich - neighbor who conjoined the houses was Harry Styles.

The first time they crossed paths she wasn’t even aware of it. It was the day she moved in. He had been out for his usual morning run and was rounding the corner when she had pulled up in her moving van. Once inside his home, he snoopily watched on as his neighbour began to move in. He hadn’t taken note of much about her, just that she was new and that she had a nice pair of jeans on that day.

The second time, Y/N was convinced she needed to get her eyes checked because there was no way that she had just seen Harry Styles key himself into the house across the way from her. There was no way that she had moved into the same area as him, let alone the same street. It seemed far more plausible that she needed a psych evaluation or a strong glasses prescription.

But the third instance of them crossing paths, she was proven wrong. She was on her way back from the neighbourhood park when she saw a guy jogging towards her. With a yellow beanie and a black Columbia sweatshirt paired with running shorts and shoes, he was hard to ignore running straight towards her. The iconic curls, strong jawline, and soft green eyes were dead giveaways this time. After making brief eye contact as their paths literally crossed, she felt herself make a little face of odd interest. Her head quirked and her eyes narrowed, lips pursed with slight confusion. That was definitely him.

After that, she found herself seeing Harry around the neighbourhood a relatively good amount. She’d see him at the park, at the coffee shop, on their street, and more. They didn’t speak. She really didn’t think he would want to be bothered by his neighbours and she certainly wasn’t willing to test the theory. They sometimes gave a small smile of acknowledgement but nothing really friendly. Just ‘you exist and I know that’.

-

Fridays are Y/N’s favorite day. It’s the beginning of the weekend, she never has to go into work and it’s simply a nice day. People are happier, they smile brighter and it just seems like the world is a little better than usual.

Friday was especially amazing today because her childhood best friend, Cate, was arriving at London Heathrow in the evening. Y/N had begged Cate to fly out to see the new house in person and Cate had finally found the time to run away to England for a week.

She shut her front door carefully behind her and placed her headphones in her ears. Rori, that little terrier, who had made a similar flight to see Y/N’s place not too long ago, scampered out the door with her and jumped happily at her legs as she fiddled with her phone. Her coat ruffles around her disturbed from the morning air. It’s blanket-like fabric that consisted of a deep blue backdrop with felt giraffes sewn on it, kept her warm while she walked. With her mind racing with weekend plans and ideas for her and Cate to do both in Hampstead and the city, she crossed the street like usual and began to walk with her dog to the coffee shop for her morning tea.

Unlike usual, she fumbled just as she was putting her phone in her pocket and bumped into something large and definitely not sedentary.

“I’m so sorry!” She blushed and moved backwards from the man who had just been shutting his own front gate to head somewhere.

“S’alright. No harm, no foul.” He looks down at her and her dog. Rori seems excited by the stranger and sniffs him eagerly. A single paw prodding at the man’s long leg.

She grimaces, hearing the voice and stepping back allows her to fully recognize who she had just bumped into. Her neighbour. The runner. Harry Styles.

“Sorry.” She mutters again as Rori continues to prod at Harry’s leg.

She tries to coax Rori away, but Harry simply smiles and leans down to the small dog.

“Hi there buddy,” he coos and rubs the top of the fluffy dogs head, in between his pointy ears, “What’s your name?”

“Rori.” She states easily, Harry’s eyes flickering to her smoothly. Rori makes a smile babbling noise that sounds a bit like a tiny roar - hence the name - and Harry chuckles to himself.

“He’s really adorable,” he finally says and straightens up from his admiring of the dog.

The grimace becomes more of a smile on her face and she mumbles a “Thank You”.

As her neighbour - who hasn’t introduced himself (which wasn’t necessary, but still) or bothered to ask for her introduction - seems to be about to say something new when his phone begins to vibrate obnoxiously. He twitches, his large hands immediately going to his pockets for the important device. He checks the message and looks back at her face.

“Sorry, I have to run...um,” he’s not sure what to say. He really does have to go, but he doesn’t even know his neighbour’s name. He’ll have to make sure to get it at some point in the near future. Especially now that he’s acquainted with her dog.

“No worries,” she smiles completely this time, relieved for the whole interaction to be over. She felt like she was going to explode with each passing moment. In the presence of a legendary musician, c’mon, who wouldn’t be freaking out. All she could think about was how Harry Styles now knew her dog’s name. What the fuck!

-

Upon arriving at the airport, she waited patiently for Cate to walk out of the customs area.

When she did, the two young women began jumping up and down excitedly, Y/N squealing only slightly. They hugged and began chattering intensely, catching up on lost time that generally occurs when you live an ocean apart.  

Finally, one comment rings through the constant back and forth and Cate stops.

“Wait, what did you just say,” she questions as they begin walking to catch an uber back to Hampstead.

“I think my house might be haunted?” Y/N’s voice raising because she’s unsure if that’s what Cate was talking about.

“No, no, the thing after that. I think I must’ve misheard you.”

“Harry Styles is my neighbour?” Y/N’s brows raise as she looks over at her best friend, curious to know what she will say.

“Yes! Explain. Now!”

“It’s not really a big deal. It’s a nice neighbourhood, it makes sense that celebrities of his caliber want to live there.”

“That is not explaining. You have to introduce us!”

As they climb into their uber and settle in for the short ride back to Hampstead, Y/N sighs and tells Cate everything she knows.

“We’ve only just spoken today and I’ve been here for a couple weeks. He lives across the street and down one, I guess. I just see him around, it’s not like he knows who I am. He didn’t even get my name today, just Rori’s.” She laughs lightly, still finding it funny that Harry knows her dog’s name.

Cate nods, leaning in slightly to her best friend, hardly able to contain her awestruckness from the story and baffledness at Y/N’s calmness. “So, like, when do I get to meet him?”

“Girl, I don’t fucking know. Never, if you’re going to act wild. I don’t want the neighbourhood to think I’m not chill.”

“Sometimes…” Cate starts and leans away from Y/N jokingly, “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They both smile, bumping elbows silently. The song on the radio fading in louder as their words die out.

-

The next day, Y/N took Cate to the local park. It was expansive and connected to the football fields that local teams would play at. The park section was a luscious green that was maintained with copious amounts of watering by the township.

She and Cate settled on a patch of grass near a slender tree that would offer some shade if the sun’s rays became too harsh. The quilt they sat on was something her grandmother had made her when she was maybe 8 years old, meaning it was torn in places and completely worn in a different shade of pink than it had been initially.

They set up their picnic and played music, enjoying the sunny day. Something rare and fleeting as the fall began to creep up on Hampstead.

They eat and catch up on life for about an hour. Basking in the sunlight, Y/N had laid on her back and was staring up at the clouds passing along the sky. Cate was carefully watching their surroundings, simply taking in her friend’s new home, but possibly for another reason too.

“Hey, isn’t that…” Cate trails off, trying to subtly nod in the direction of an approaching figure.

Y/N sits up, her hands holding her up from behind her. Her hair fails in front of her shoulders slightly and it’s a little disheveled from being mused in the grass. She looks discreetly in the direction of Cate’s nodding and then looks at her friend and rolls her eyes.

“Yes, but don’t say anything, he might not even notice me and I’m certainly not calling out to him.”

‘Illicit Affairs’ by Taylor Swift is playing off her speaker and as she’s about to change it, Cate turns it up slightly. They share a glare with one another before trying to act casual again, even though both of their eyes kept flickering to the man who seemed to be continuing closer and closer to their set up.

It became clear that Harry was approaching them after all and Y/N tried to carry on an unbothered conversation with Cate, which was hard with the constant nudging of Cate’s foot on her shin.

He stops a mere foot away from their blanket, beaming at the two young women lounging on the ground. He makes an attempt at a casual wave, his large hand splaying his fingers quickly, before opening his mouth to speak.

Cate beats him to the punch. “Hello there!”

“Erm, hi!” He says nicely to her and then looks at Y/N.

“No Rori today?” He inquires.

“No,” she smiles, slightly blushing at the fact that he remembered her and her dog. “He’s napping.”

“Ah, I see,” He pauses, “I feel like I need to apologize.” He continues.

“For what?” She questions and Cate watches on anxiously, mesmerized by Harry and dying to see what happens next.

“I ran off before I could even ask for your name or introduce myself. It was terribly rude.”

“Oh,” she can’t stop smiling, “It’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sure you’re busy. Besides I had to get my day started, otherwise I would’ve been late picking her up.” She points to Cate who smiles sheepishly, still internally screaming over the fact that her friend is able to talk so easily to a celebrity.

Harry nods and looks at Cate again, “Just visiting I take it then?”

She nods quickly, words escaping her. Y/N chuckles under her breath and swoops in to save her friend any embarrassment. “Cate’s my best friend and she’s been kind enough to take time out of her extremely busy life to come look at my new house.”

He hums, still standing a respectful distance from their set-up. “Nice to meet you, Cate,” he says very kindly. Then he laughs, but in a way that is like he’s beside himself. The two women both quirk their heads at him. Y/N squints her eyes slightly, trying to understand the guy she is talking to and connecting him with the man that is all over the news all of the time for his musical genius.

“Now I know your dog and best friend’s names but still not yours. At this point, I’m begging you to tell me.”

They all laugh and Y/N feels nervous for the first time since Harry had walked up.

“You first,” she smiles slyly.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but then go back to normal. Harry was very smart, she likely knew his name, but one, she was trying to be funny and two, she was also trying to be courteous. He preferred to introduce himself rather than just be told who he is, even if people already knew. It allowed him to maintain some normalcy.

“‘M Harry,” He says with a smile.

“Alright.” She says and then remains quiet.

Harry’s lips quirk up in a faint smile, amused at her expression.

“I thought it was a ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ type of situation or was I mistaken?” He finally asks when she remains silent still.

The two young women laugh and Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, both feeling flustered and completely in control at the same time.

“You weren’t mistaken, I was just thinking.” Then she pauses again and Cate thinks Harry is about to combust and Harry thinks he’s going to as well with all the anticipation that has been built up over his neighbor’s name, even though he was pretty sure he’d heard it in passing at one point or another but had forgotten quickly afterwards.

“It’s Y/N.”

Harry releases a facetious sigh of relief, “Oh thank god! Finally!” His words quickly turn into an infectious laugh that is paired with a shining smile and she feels like she’s swooning right then and there. The control has gone out the window and she’s taken with her neighbor. He’s wonderful in that moment and she forgets about Cate or the park or anything. It’s just Harry and how it seems like he’s smiling just for her.

“Now that I’ve gotten your name,” he smiles pointedly at her after his laughter has faded away. The smile doesn’t leave his face though, his eyes still crinkled, his dimples still showing.

She nods, encouraging him to continue. Cate feels like she’s watching a movie unfold in front of her and she wishes she could record the entire interaction.

“I can finally ask you, Y/N, where did you get that fabulous coat I saw you wearing yesterday?”

She twitches further upright, eyes bringing themselves directly inline with Harry’s gaze. “Oh,” she inhales, “The giraffe one, yeah?”

He nods.

“I got it from a Goodwill years ago. It’s some vintage company that used to only make sleepwear. I looked up the tag one time and it doesn’t exist anymore. Super cool, though. Wish I could buy more.”

“Yeah,” Harry says eagerly, even taking a step towards the women, “It was so intriguing. Maybe, if you didn’t mind of course -” he falters, losing his courage for a moment, “you could bring it over and my stylist could check it out. I would love something similar and I’m sure he could figure it out.”

She shrugs. It wasn’t crazy, especially not for Harry - she assumed. She was certain he often found things he liked but there was only one of them so he would just order his own. She couldn’t help the pride that was swelling inside her though it that moment. Harry Styles liking her jacket so much he asked where it was from and then wanting his stylist to look at it. She’d jump for joy when she was in the safety of her private home later tonight with Cate.

“One condition,” she says and Harry’s brows quirk amusedly at her.

“You are a very tit for tat person,” he muses.

“Fair’s fair,” she shrugs again and then looks around her quickly, “It’s simple so don’t get too worked up over it, buddy.”

He laughs slightly again and tries to figure out what she’s looking for. When she extends a scratched up, sticker-covered point and shoot film camera he smiles.

“Can you take a picture of Cate and I? It’s always just the two of us so we never have anyone to take pictures of us together.”

Harry grins at this and her sincere face. Cate is a little taken aback, because while it’s technically true, it’s not entirely factual. They have plenty of film pictures of them - maybe not recently though. And she wasn’t going to question Y/N right now. It seemed like she knew what she was doing.

Harry takes the camera and begins to look through the viewfinder. The women scoot closer together and Cate wraps her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. She leans in to press her cheek against her best friend. They smile up at the camera and Harry crouches slightly to get a better angle.

“Alright,” he mumbles, “Ready?...Cheese!”

Their smiles stay hung on their face as they listen for the click and when the faint sound befalls their ears, Cate laughs and Y/N pulls away. She reaches forward for the camera, her hand easily brushing Harry’s large one.

Their smiles meet each other and Cate can’t help but notice how they grow as the two of them look at one another.

“Thank you,” Y/N says sweetly and pulls back to retake her seat on the blanket.

Harry straightens up, his grin falling back into that signature smirk. “No problem.”

“So-” He begins but she cuts him off.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He clears his throat, feeling thrown off. “Yeah, sure. I guess next time I see you we can talk about when a good time would be for your jacket to come over?”

His voice raises at the end of his question a little more than usual, he’s trying to get her to bite, but she doesn’t seem like someone who is easily thrown off. He is trying to read her and she’s been completely cool the entire time. It’s intriguing. Even more so than the jacket, even though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, it wasn’t really his focus when he walked across the park to her and Cate.

“Yep! It was nice finally meeting you Harry.”

He feels the cue to walk off and says his farewells. As he walks off, back on course to his intended destination, his head is filled with questions. Most important of them being when he would see her again.

Cate and Y/N watch him walk towards the football fields. They see him meet with a group of men and it seems like they’re there to practice or play a game. Y/N couldn’t be sure.

“He likes you!” Cate finally bursts out.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Stop trying to make me take the piss. That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“It’s not! He likes you and you obviously like him, I mean, but we been knew.”

“Having a crush on the famous Harry Styles when you’re 17 is different than me liking my neighbour Harry.”

“But you like him don’t you? He’s even better than he was when he was 19. Now he’s all grown up and established and more your style anyway.”

“Shut up! He could hear you.”

“He really couldn't, he's yards away, you’re just paranoid.” Cate continues to tease and ridicule her best friend over Harry and Y/N is just about ready to up and leave, but she also can’t help but laugh it off.

“I’m literally gonna kick you out if you keep talking,” Y/N says between laughs and the women feel like they’re back in high school losing their minds over the stupidest joke ever.

“Okay, fine. But all I have to say is I will hold this over you when you end up together.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever. Just be prepared to wait forever because I can promise you Harry Styles and I are never ending up together.”

--

Two Weeks Later

Y/N walked to her door after hearing the doorbell ring and opened it to find her neighbour standing with his arm raised ready to knock.

“Hey, Harry,” She greeted easily, but not entirely sure why he was here.

They hadn’t really seen each other since their official meeting in the park. It hadn’t bothered her and it hadn’t really bothered Harry either. It seemed like they both had extremely busy lives that they didn’t plan on throwing out the window because they had said they would meet up at some point. She liked that.

Harry had come over because he finally had a break in his schedule and was hoping to talk about the jacket and anything else really. He was interested in getting to know her and he didn’t care to hide it.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something?” He asked, leaning himself against her door frame now.

Her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen a little bit, not completely sure she heard him correctly.

“Right now?!” She asked incredulously.

She was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt and black bike shorts that peaked out from underneath the sweatshirt hem. One of her socks was shoved around her ankle while the other was pulled up flat to touch the base of her calf. She didn’t think she was looking the most presentable at the moment. She had been basking in her day off by simply laying on the couch watching hours of Netflix.

He nods, his smile growing on his face. Her flustered expression only made him happier. She was always so nonchalant with him, he wanted to see her a little more antsy.

“Unless you’re busy,” he adds seriously, not wanting to bother her, just wanting to spend time with her.

“No, no. I’m not...I’m not busy. I just wasn’t expecting any plans where I would be required to go out in public. Let me just...um, come inside and then give me five minutes.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles again as he steps into her home.

Her smile is sheepish and much less genuine then the one Harry holds on his face as he takes in her abode. She tells him to make himself comfortable and then runs to her room to try and possibly fix her state in under five minutes.

She tears around her room, heaving off the frumpy sweatshirt and grabbing a long sleeve striped v-neck top she had hanging out half out of her hamper, a sign known to her that while it was clean enough to wear, if she happened to do laundry she should wash it. Slipping it over her head, she walks to her dresser and leans over to open the bottom drawer and unfolds a pair of dark wash oversized jeans. There’s no holes in them and she throws them on the bed so that she can slip out of her current pants. Next, onto the socks, she swaps out the current ones for a fresh black pair and finds her tortoise print boots to flick on. As she just about runs into her en suite bathroom, she zips the two boots up between steps. A quick comb through her hair, deodorant, two spritz of perfume, her eyelash curler and mascara and she’s running back to where Harry is waiting in her living room.

He blinks surprisedly at her promptness, usually giving people more time then what they say they need. She had indeed gotten ready in five minutes. He thought she looked breathtaking. And she felt like she was at a lack for breath in any case.

“It’s a bit cold out,” he glances to the window.

“Isn’t it always?” She smiles, finally catching her breath.

He chuckles and then nods, a smile appearing on his face as he feels a warmth in his chest at her wit.

“Ready?” He checks in.

She nods, grabbing a coat she kept hung by the door.

“Just the coffee shop down the way?” She inquires as they exit the house and she locks the door behind her.

Harry hums, waiting down a step for her to turn around and walk beside him. It was so strange to her, this felt all too normal with him. Like he was just a friend who had come to pick her up for coffee, her neighbor, nothing more.

“Did you hear the new season of the Crown is coming out soon?” Harry asks as they walk shoulder to shoulder (technically since her shoulder wasn’t in line with his).

“Really?” She looks at him, “I love that show!”

“Me too,” He looks at her and smiles happily.

“That’s amazing,” she breathes mostly to herself, half about the show and half about how Harry watches television and that he watches one of her favorite shows.

There’s silence. The brisk air pricking their cheeks as they walk down their street. Their puffs of breath create a slight mist of white ahead of them and then quickly dissipates.

Her eyes flit up to Harry’s chiseled jaw and face and she watches him as his eyes carefully and meaningfully take in his surroundings. Was it her turn to take a stab at conversation? It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but she just wasn’t sure what was going on.

“You play football right?” She says finally as they turn onto the next street that would bring them closer to the café they both frequented.

She remembered seeing him there on several occasions. The tips he left were always overly generous, which she assumed you could do when you were exorbitantly rich. He always smiled when he ordered and knew the baristas by name. His order rarely differed and she hated to admit but she knew his two regulars. His actual “regular” was a 12 ounce black coffee, dark roast, no cream and no sugar. The other, his “I’ll actually have”, was a 16 ounce iced green tea, no cream and no sugar.

She couldn’t help that she was observant and that when ‘H’ was called at the bar she looked at what was pushed out, patiently waiting for him to come snatch it up with a smile and nod to the workers before he left. Sometimes he’d even smile at her over the lid of his drink as he exited the establishment. It was warm and inviting and she felt good about the twinkle in his eye that never seemed to waver no matter the day.

Now they were going there together and she’d have to pretend like she’d never noticed what he got as a drink.

He responds to her question with another glance at her and a simple “yes”. His hands shove into his pockets and one side of his pink lips quirk up. He continues, “I’m on a local team with some mates. We’re in a little competition with our league. The final match is coming up this Sunday actually...You should come.”

He says it so casually it almost doesn’t catch her off guard. Harry inviting her to his football game, maybe this was going to be her life now. Going to her neighbours football match. Going to Harry Styles’ football match.

“Sunday…” She sounds out, choosing to look out into the distance instead of at him. “What time?”

“Eight.”

“P.M. right?” She responds quickly, worried since she never wakes up that early and rarely before 10 a.m. on the weekends for that matter.

“Of course,” he chuckles.

They’ve come upon the café and he’s quick to grab the handle to open the door and let her go before him. She can’t stop the blush and smile that spread on her face as she ducks her head into the warm and cozy shop. Men had opened doors for her before and she really thought of herself as a strong woman who didn’t need a man for anything, but something about Harry’s action felt especially, and specifically, chivalrous. Why, she had no idea.

Neither of them stop to look at the menu. They were regulars and they both knew that about each other as well. He gestures for her to go first and she mutters her thanks before turning to the patiently waiting barista. She orders and is about to hand over her card when Harry suavely steps in and says, “Don’t worry about it. I invited you with me, I’ll pay.”

It was both completely unexpected and expected at the same time. Knowing she’d never win this fight, she thanked him again, glanced at the man taking her order and then stepped aside. Harry orders his own drink and then pays for both. Today he leaves double the amount he usually leaves for tip, she assumes since it’s two drinks he was paying for.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” She says quietly to him once they’re in a corner of the café waiting for their drinks.

He stands slightly slumped against the wall, closer to her height right now. He only shrugs, his good natured smile not once leaving his face since he entered this place.

“I wanted to,” he said simply right as the drinks were ready since it wasn’t particularly busy on this random Friday afternoon.

They glance outside and see that it’s begun to drizzle while they’ve been inside. She sighs, having hoped to walk around a little after being inside all day.

Instead, they sit at the corner table in the café, across from each other. She moves on from the paying thing, knowing it was simply how this guy probably operated most of his life.

He got a black coffee today, the cold and rain likely contributing to that choice.

As one pop song fades out, slightly under the sound of the coffee machines, she’s about to tell Harry she’s pretty sure she can make his final football match when ‘Cardigan’ fades in. It’s the second time a Taylor Swift song has been playing while she’s been in the presence of Harry and they were conversing. She tries to ignore one of her favorite songs at the moment. Harry doesn’t seem to pay much mind to it. His foot is tapping against his other, but it’s been tapping like that since they sat down.

“I think I could probably make it to your game,” she says finally after a pause and a sip of her own drink.

Harry grins at the response and launches into how great it will be if they win and how happy everyone will be. She smiles along and doesn’t notice the slight head swaying to the song that she’s begun.

“Fan of Taylor?” Harry inquires and Y/N’s face drops, eyes widening cartoonishly.

She stutters, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth before she can actually say something. How does she respond about liking Taylor Swift to a man who counts her as an ex. She’s at a loss.

“Yeah, uh,” she finally starts.

Harry watches her curiously, obviously noticing her discomfort as his question.

“I used to not really consider myself a fan. I don’t really follow her just because I don’t really follow...um...musicians,” she chokes out the last word realizing Harry fits that category. “But, after folklore, I don’t know, this album really spoke to me. I also really like Lover and...uh” she pauses again, sticking on 1989, an album she has argued with her friends about how it’s basically a tell all of the man before her and Taylor’s relationship.

He nods, hoping she’ll continue. He wanted to get to know her and he kind of liked seeing her squirm. “1989?” He finally supplies.

Her blush isn’t able to be covered this time. If her hair didn’t fall in front of her ears she was sure they’d be flushed with blood.

Then she draws out of her own self stress and looks at the smooth man before her and grows calm. He was amazing at winding her up and she didn’t want to seem like some young, impressionable fangirl to him. So, she squared her shoulders and straightened up in her chair.

“Yes, it was pop perfection as one of my college friends liked to say. I’d always listen to it at the gym.” Then she pauses, taking a measured breath, gaining her confidence back. Her eyes meet his, “Is there any songs off it that you particularly enjoy, Mr. Styles.”

He chuckles, mostly because of her emphasis on ‘Style’.

“Shake it off?” He asks.

“Oh fuck off!” She laughs and he joins in with her.

When they catch their breaths from laughing, they simultaneously take sips of their drinks and settle their eyes back on one another. Exes and songs written about oneself weren’t exactly the topics Harry had in mind for the coffee outing he had asked Y/N out on, but talks of exes had never been this funny with anyone else. He was grateful for her playfulness, her demeanor.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks quietly and seriously.

“I think we’re past that question, love,” he responds.

“Yeah, I guess,” she pauses and just about whispers, “Pretty much all of them are about you right?”

He shrugs again, his felt coat rustling around his seat. “We never really talked about every single song.”

She leans forward at the ‘we’ Harry is using about himself and Taylor Swift.

“But when I listen to the songs, I hear us in just about every one but a few.”

“Wow,” she breathes and sips her drink. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lived through something that intense and then someone commemorated in a masterpiece.”

“Do you have a favorite on that album?” He asks, moving on from her revelation.

“I love ‘I know places’, it has a cool sound. But I also really love ‘Wonderland’. They both have kind of dark sounds, yet it still is like what you have is so special that the bad bits are worth it. I don’t know, it just seems like a tv show. I don’t think my life could ever be that crazy or dramatic.” She doesn’t notice her use of ‘you’ because she had meant it as a form of analyzing the song theoretically as she had done hundreds of times with her friends,  but this time the ‘you’ is literally the ‘you’ the song is talking about.

“Love can turn anyone’s life chaotic.” Harry muses.

The green eye’s that flashed at Taylor throughout that album look at Y/N from across the table and she feels a flip in her stomach at his tone.

Maybe he notices her mild discomfort, maybe that’s just who he is. But after a beat, Harry’s onto the next topic on his mind. He launches into how he’s just returned from Scotland for a shoot for something so undercover he can’t even divulge to her, much to his dismay. She’s taken aback since she didn’t consider her someone Harry would divulge any of his private matters to, but it seemed like he already considered her a confidant. Just not for that. He wants it to be a surprise.

She smiles and listens attentively. She wonders as he goes on about his interesting yet absurdly lavish life whether he even knows what regular life is like anymore. Or if he’d even enjoy it if he experienced it.

Sure, coffee and football were plenty part of regular life . But the football league was something novel to Harry. He had just gotten to do it and he was thrilled by its normalcy.

She regarded him carefully, unsure what the next step was in this budding friendship. Was it dangerous to get involved with someone’s life which seemed to be filled with whirlwind rigor and constant change.

She liked her chaos, don’t get her wrong. She felt like she often was the odd one out in life. Always thinking differently than the ones around her. She often was the one to suggest spontaneous late night trips around town or exploration of an abandoned building known for spooky stories. She liked inviting friends over for themed parties for no specific occasions and she liked taking film pictures of friends like they were models even though it was only for her and her memories. She thought of herself as silly and fun, but what Harry described as his chaotic fun actually was regimented tight schedules of constant travel and work. Interesting experiences came out of that constant travel and work, but didn’t seem like something she necessarily wanted to get herself wrapped up in.

After coffee, they leave the café and it’s pouring now. Instead of going home, Harry insists on walking her to her place. She relents, realizing, once again, that Harry wasn’t someone who took ‘no’ for an answer. She then invites him in because it’s the polite thing to do. And Harry being Harry accepts.

“Want a dry sweatshirt while you wait?” She asks as she slips off her wet shoes and jacket in the entryway. Harry follows suit, his knit sweater being pelted with rain for the last eight minutes left him feeling cold and shivery.

He nods as he toes off his shoes and ventures back to the living room she had him wait in a few hours ago.

“Here,” She says as she tosses a grey sweatshirt in his direction. She believes it's her one from earlier, an innocuous pullover with ‘London’ in collegiate lettering on the front. He catches it as she rounds the corner to turn up the heater.

Her mistake was being so careless to not look at the sweatshirt before handing it over to her neighbor. Anyone else, maybe they wouldn’t have questioned it. But Harry, how could he not.

“What’s this?”

“A sweatshirt,” she doesn’t spare him a glance on the coach as she fiddles with the thermostat.

“It’s one of my sweatshirts,” Harry says and she can hear the smile on his face.

“That’s impossible, I’ve never borrowed-” Her brows had raised at what he said but now her words fall short.

He didn’t mean one of his personal sweatshirts that she possibly borrowed if they were better friends. No. He meant his merchandise.

“It was a gift,” she sighs as she turns to face him. He’s now wearing the sweatshirt proudly and grinning up at her smugly.

She rolls her eyes when he gives her a knowing smile.

“I didn’t know that it was the one I was handing you. Honest!”

“I thought you didn’t “keep up” with musicians,” Harry says playfully, his fingers making quotes appropriately.

“I don’t.” Her tone is serious as she plops on the couch beside Harry.

“I enjoy your music from time to time. Is that a crime?!” She finally exclaims when she can’t handle Harry’s knowing smirk.

“No it’s not, you could have just told me you were a fan!” She tries to stop him and protest that she wouldn’t consider herself a fan, but he continues, “I still would have wanted to have been friends.You’re one of the liveliest neighbors I’ve got. Everyone else on the street is rather dull.”

She chuckles, remembering finding out quickly that the street wasn’t a lively bunch.  

“I just wouldn’t say I’m a fan,” she presses and sits across from him.

He continues smiling like he knows the truth.

“I don’t think you’ve met an average person in awhile, Harry.” She finally says after they sat in silence for a few minutes because they were both too stubborn to be the first to talk.

“I would hardly call you average if that’s what you’re implying, Y/N.” He nods her way and he shifts on her plush couch, his legs adjusting themselves on their own accord. “And I know plenty of average people,” he adds huffily.

“I normally wouldn’t either, but compared to who you seem to surround yourself, I very much am. And that’s not meant to be a jab at anyone involved.”

His right hand sneaks up to his head to scratch at the base of a particularly perfect curl. His eyes squint a bit as his mind processes her claim.

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’m just curious to see if you’d actually like me in your life. It seems like you want to be friends with me and that’s great, but realistically I don’t know how much I would fit into it.”

Harry scoffs, “That’s literally bullshit, just relax. I’m so chill you won’t even know what to do with me.”

Now it’s her turn to scoff. “Chill?!” She asks incredulously. Harry nods with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before.

“When’s the next time you’re flying off to another country for work?”

Harry pauses, “Um...the day after the final match. I’m beginning to film a movie, so I’ll be there for a month.”

“Busy bee,” she muses and they both chuckle.

There’s something about the somber look Harry is giving her. His eyes twinkled in the coffee shop and with playful winks she was excited to be in his presence. But after she mentions when his next trip is, he seems saddened. There’s skepticism behind his eyes and maybe he doesn’t like being challenged about who he is from other people, especially those who are new in his life.

But that’s who Y/N is, she’s straightforward and doesn’t lie to someone. If Harry was now her friend, she was going to tell it like it is to him. That personality trait she worried wouldn’t make her long for his world.

“So the cardigan? Do you have it here?” Harry changes the subject, clearly not wanting to actually consider a realistic friendship together instead just charging ahead with no hesitation. Whatever happened they would deal with it as it came. Maybe she should just go with the flow, let herself be swept up into his madness. Maybe it would be easier than fighting it.

“No.”

“Oh?”

“I do, I was joking. Where else would it be?” Her tone is light, trying to get back the shine she had seen Harry exhibit before it had vanished.

Maybe that was Harry’s effect on people. He was vibrant and like an Elton John song. You never wanted that shine to go away, never wanted the song to end. Never wanted him to stop shining his light on you. She felt this happening in just a few hours with him. When he was happy so was she and when he wasn’t entirely shining she wanted to do whatever she could to get it back.

A smile curls on his face and his green eyes narrow slightly. He’s trying to figure her out, know what she’s all about.

“Do you want to go and grab it?” His voice sweetening, almost like a tease. Maybe he means to bite his lip, maybe he doesn’t, but the effect on her is nonetheless earthshaking.

She pops up and smiles back, happy to have made him happy. As she walks out of the room to go get the cardigan that had started this all, her head tilts and she furrows her brow wondering why she felt such a sense of pride just for making him happy.

Would this man cause her to finally put someone else’s wishes ahead of hers?

-

“Are you on your way?”

She listens to Harry’s slightly worried voice crackle over the speaker of her phone as she shuts her door with the hand not holding her phone to her ear. His voice is raspy and muffled. She assumes it’s from the cold air of London at night and the scarf he is likely got wrapped around his neck.

“Yes! Jeez, I’m on my way. Walking over right now.”

It’s the final match for Harry’s football team and if they win the game then they get a trophy and it’s all Harry has been talking about since they got coffee and she handed over her cardigan.

Harry huffed an “alright” on the other side of the line and she called a “see you soon” before hanging up.

He was both eager for Y/N to come and possibly meet some of his teammates and a few of his close friends who he had invited and for her to arrive so that she wasn’t walking out late at night alone. He hadn’t known her for long, but he felt a certain protectiveness over her. She was relatively alone here, only two friends at work that she had mentioned and everyone else lived far away. She said she didn’t mind it, but Harry had a hard time understanding it since he surrounded himself with his friends as much as he could and was constantly either traveling or having them travel to see him.

He had even contemplated inviting her to come to Los Angeles with him for a month, but knew she would remind him of her ever important job that she couldn’t just randomly take a month off.

He’d have to ask her what exactly she did because every time he tried to remember, it always slipped his mind.

When her figure came into sight below the fluorescent lights, he breathed a sigh of relief. A grin spread on his face as she beamed at him and waved a bit. He didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how special she was. Every time he saw her he felt himself straighten up and feel a bubbling in his chest. Her smile was infectious and the way her eyes glittered when she looked away quickly and then returned eye contact made him want to stay in her presence forever.

“You made it!” Harry said and scooped her up in his arms, not realizing just how happy he was to see her, swinging her around in a half circle.

She laughs in surprise, but appreciates the warmth Harry’s hug offers her. She’s not quite sure they had ever touched each other before this moment beside shoulder brushes and hand touches. Nothing so...purposeful.

“I made it,” she confirms and pats him on his broad shoulders.

Questions in her mind raced as she questioned whether it was normal for friendships to happen like this. She knew in college friendships could happen this quickly. And that’s when it dawned on her, she really hadn’t made a new friend since college and that was why everything with Harry was so odd to her. She had forgotten what new friendship was. She needed to stop questioning everything and just live in the moment with a person she really liked being with.

Harry’s hands move from her waist and one stays to lead her forward so he can introduce her to some of his mates, as he had promised.

She felt at home in that moment. His hand on the small of her back, his heat radiating off of him and her hair swept behind her ears and her cheek pressed to his shoulder staring up at him sweetly.

She meets Charlotte, a member of Harry’s band who lives in London, her boyfriend, Mitch (who had just happened to find himself in Hampstead this weekend), Ben, and a few more people she couldn’t remember all the names of.

Harry’s team wins the game and Y/N’s not sure if she’s ever seen someone so happy to win an adult league football match. There wasn’t any official trophy except the one Harry had made himself and said he would even give to the other team if they won. It was engraved with the words “The World’s Greatest Football Team of Stars Ever. October 22, 2020”. It doesn’t even make sense but she’d been holding it for the entire night as he played.

He goes down the line of his friends who have been watching and gives them all jubilant kisses on the lips. When he reaches Y/N she holds out the trophy and he grins and gives her a kiss on the cheek. His lips are surprisingly soft and his scratchy stubble tickles her and she swiftly pulls back, a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks nonetheless.

Charlotte and Mitch share a look between the two of them and Ben’s eyes narrow slightly at the interaction. His eyes narrow just as they had when Harry had strutted over to the group with Y/N before the game. He had happily named everyone and she had shaken all of their hands with a warm smile on her lips. Ben had regarded her warily and she had shaken it off as the chill of the night air. But there it was again, not quite trusting of the neighbour girl Harry had just randomly befriended a few days ago.

The team and the friends of the team decide they deserve to celebrate this win, mostly at the request of Harry.

Y/N tries to find a time to leave, to return to her place so she can prepare for her day at work tomorrow. But no excuses will be heard from Harry and she has a hard time saying no to his sparkling eyes and gorgeous grin that she’s growing far too accustomed to.

She’s ushered down to the closest pub with the rest of them and finds herself chatting with Charlotte’s boyfriend. He’s the most...normal. She’s not sure how to explain it, but he doesn’t seem to be regarding her as different, unlike every other one of Harry’s friends. They were all perfectly nice and cordial with her, but she just felt like she wasn’t a part of their group, their world and she didn’t know how to explain it.

Charlotte and Mitch are rather nice too, but they’re more reserved with her. They’re musicians, like Harry, and they somewhat have that air of awareness around them that Harry sometimes gets. She thinks it’s from the fame, having to constantly be wary of who is around you, what everyone is doing, what is happening next. She doesn’t mind it, it’s just not something she’s used to.

She wishes she could just throw back some drinks and she could allow herself to be more...well just be more. More of a presence, more of herself, but she has a job she has to get to bright and early. Tomorrow was Monday and for her that meant work. So she sips a beer that Harry insisted be on his tab and she makes small talk with Charlotte’s boyfriend about how he’s been helping her produce her first EP. Charlotte occasionally pops in when she hears her name, but mostly is conversing with Mitch over something silly. Y/N knows because they keep laughing.  

Harry is going around to just about everyone in the party and she watches as he happily talks with every one of his friends. He’s ecstatic and she wonders if she’s ever experienced happiness like he has.

At midnight she attempts to make a French exit, as her mother always called it, and slip away with little to no farewells, but Harry spots her before she can.

“You’re leaving already?” Harry asks loudly, the euphoria of winning his silly little game and drinking a fair amount of pints has him at his peak boisterity.

“I have work tomorrow,” she says warily, slumping slightly from the weight of Harry’s arm slinging around her shoulder.

He turns serious and straightens up slightly, his green eyes looking especially dark in the pubs dim lighting as they look her dead in the eye. “Let me walk you home.”

“I can get home by myself,” she laughs, shrugging off his hold. “Plus, the host can’t leave his own celebration.” She gestures to everyone else happily celebrating on a Sunday, somehow not bothered by the beginning of the average week.

He steps closer, his brow furrowing for the first time that night. One of his large hands raises to his tousled hair and he runs it through the tresses. He even nibbles at his lower lip as he contemplates his decision. Then quickly and suddenly, he makes up his mind,

“No, I’ll escort you. Can’t have my neighbour walk home this late alone. I’ll just leave my card with Mitch. He’ll settle up the tab.” He smiles at his perfect plan and she grimaces feeling slightly embarrassed that he would leave his friends to walk her home. “Won’t you Mitch?” Harry calls as he grabs his coat from the wall next to the door. Mitch simply nods and Harry yells his farewells, Y/N waves meekly.

“That was...interesting,” she mulls over her words as they walk through the cold night air outside of the pub.

“Amazing, right?” Harry speaks over her less enthusiastic voice.

“You have a lot of friends,” she mused, trying to sound less disheartened than she had in her last statement.

Harry only hums and shivers slightly from the cold. His breath comes clearly out in puffs in the cold night air. Y/N’s is muffled by her scarf wrapped tightly up to her chin. She’s tucked his face as far into it as possible but her nose won’t stop from freezing as they walk.

Her hand goes up to it and she rests her palm to the tip of it. The motion grabs Harry’s attention and he looks directly at her curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m freezing,” she muffles out, “This helps my cold nose not be so..cold.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulder and she easily folds into him, welcoming any warmth right now.

After another moment of silence and them enjoying each other’s warmth and slight smell of whatever perfumes they had chosen earlier that night as well as beer and wood of the pub, Harry nuzzles his head above hers and then asks her something.

“Was that overwhelming for you?”

She’s quiet, thankful his eyes can’t reach hers right now. He was too powerful with those things.

“I, um, a little. I just...I just realized today that I haven’t made a new friend since college outside of work and it was overwhelming just hanging out with you. So all of your friends as well, yeah, it was a bit much for me.”

Harry looks out at the empty street ahead of them and sighs in realization. In his excitement, he hadn’t accounted how she might have felt tonight until just now. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of her feelings, but other’s feelings slipped his mind so easily sometimes.

They round their street corner and she nuzzles back into his side.

“I’m sorry, love.” He rubs at her outer arm, “I didn’t think about it like that. I was just so excited for my plan to come together. Maybe next time, it’ll just be a couple of them rather than so many?”

“Sure,” she says quickly, wanting to make him happy, knowing how much he cared about his friends. “I feel like we need to hang out more with just you before I osmos into your friend group though if I’m being honest.”

“Well that can definitely be arranged,” he says and reluctantly lets go of her body. They’ve arrived at her door.

“I also want to see the inside of your house at some point.” She tugs at one of his hands before it can disappear into his warm coat pocket. “Houses,” she corrects.

“That can also be arranged,” Harry smiles with his lips closed. Pink lips and rosy cheeks extra bright from the cold. He plays with her fingers as the two stand close to one another, happy for the alone time and chalking the proximity up to heat sharing.

“You leave tomorrow right?” She finally asks.

His head falls and he sighs.

“Yeah…”

“It’s just a month,” she smiles, trying to stop Harry from being so dramatic. Especially when there was no logical reason for him to be so upset over not seeing his neighbour - she keeps telling herself.

“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and just fly out with me?” He pleads.

She throws her head back in laughter and shifts closer to him, her front porch light illuminating and shadowing every perfect place on Harry’s gorgeous face.

“Not even a chance.”

“That is a shame,” he takes an experimental step closer and she feels his breath fan across her cheeks at his last word.

She wrinkles his nose at the smell of his last beer, even though coming from him it was endearing.

Just as she feels him being to shift his head closer, she steps forward and gives him a tight hug.

“Goodnight Harry,” she whispers into his ear, “Safe travels.”

Then she’s stepping back and swiftly unlocking her door. She moves it slowly so as to not wake Rori and then Harry’s left alone and dumbfounded on her doorstep.

He definitely preferred being with her alone, but now he didn’t even have that chance until next month. And nonetheless she had just sidestepped his kiss with such ease he’s not even sure if he meant to kiss her. It had felt right, but why? Because it was cold and picture perfect? Or because he was enchanted by her and liked her as more than a new friend?

She slumps in her kitchen and fixes an Emergen-C to stave off the chill of the night and any germs that might have been lurking around the pub. She hopes when she walks to her bedroom she can check the front porch and see that Harry has gone home because she would hate to turn the light off on him.

How could he have expected her to kiss him just then? They’ve only just met each other a few weeks ago? And he’s Harry Styles and she just lives in the neighbourhood. What the actual fuck had happened to her life?

[red-writes]

Career oriented 

Escort! Bakugou x Reader

Your entire life you've been focused solely on your career, you've sacrificed a lot      of things, people and time to get where you are and it’s paid off, now you're a millionaire who is also a virgin and never had a boyfriend in their life. Your friend recommends you a male escort service. At first you hire him to go on dates and do other things couples do but the relationship develops far beyond what you could've imagined, now you're laying under him begging him to be your first. 

cw: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, reader is a capitalist lmao, I mean reader is a virgin but its not rlly virginity loss bc its not focused around that but reader does lose her virginity, unedited (but what's new)

a/n: I mean we always hear abt sugar daddies, I need rich reader pls also- monoma is a rich bitch y'all can't fight me on this he got that rich bitch mentality.

The words ‘hard worker’ were understatements when it came to describing you. Pretty much all of your life was spent working, growing your small business with your own two hands. Now money was never an issue. A huge house with several bathrooms, fancy bags and cars, all the things you've ever wanted were now in your possession except maybe one thing. Seeing happy couples holding hands as they walked around in the park, kissing and calling each other pet names, seeing them stirred a feeling of longing inside of you. 

While it’s true that now you'd never want for anything else in your life, you still wanted something money couldn't buy you, love.

 A small tap to your shoulder brought you out of your daze.

“Your eggs are going to get cold..” Todoroki mentioned and you gave him a small smile before prodding your fork in the perfectly scrambled egg. 

“Hey, don't tell me you're thinking about that shareholders meeting this week” Monoma groans and you shake your head.

“Then what is it?” Momo wondered as she wiped her mouth with her napkin. 

“It’s just- you guys all have someone you know romantically” you say as you rest your fork on the plate, deciding that you weren't really in the mood to eat anymore. 

Monoma scoffs, “Yeah barely...I almost broke up with shinso after that last stunt he pulled in the club” 

Momo giggles, “You're still with him?” 

His face dusts pink in embarrassment as he looks away, “A-anyway, why don't you try getting an escort” Monoma recommends and it was your turn for your face to warm. 

“An e-escort?! You do realize who we are right? If someone in here were to hear us talk about such a thing..” Momo whisper-yells and Todoroki’s eyebrow quirks up

“We all know I met Izuku through a sugar daddy website though-”

You clear your throat, “I’m not necessarily looking for you know..sex...just maybe someone to spend time with Monoma” You clarify and he's rummaging through his pockets to find his phone, he fiddles with it before showing you what the site looks like.

“Duh, escorts just get paid for their time not necessarily sex, I’ll send you the link to the website” He tells you and you sigh thoughtfully, if that was really the case then it wouldn't be so wrong to hire some cute eye candy right? 

Momo waves over the waiter, “We’ll have the check please”

“Certainly ma'am” 

+

You sat at your office’s desk with the website pulled up. You'd triple checked to make sure your door was locked, you still had a reputation to uphold as the CEO of your company, you'd be traumatized if one of your employees saw you hiring an escort. 

You scrolled through the many many options of guys. Each profile consisted of a headshot of the escort along with a bio that consisted of maybe a paragraph and . You really couldn't find anyone that suited your tastes personally, until your mouse hovered over a blonde guy. 

His bio was notably shorter than everyone else’s and in his picture he looked mean, eyebrows furrowed and red eyes staring menacingly at you and yet you found yourself clicking the ‘hire!’ button next to his name. Even though he looked like his favorite hobby was stealing candy from a baby, but his looks (as shallow as that may seem) were really speaking to you and the you between your legs if you were honest.

Bakugou Katsuki huh..well he seemed worth a try. 

+

You had been through countless scenarios were you were rightfully terrified. 

Being on a date had to be the scariest out of all of them.

Bakugou was sitting in front of you, he stirred his straw around in his coffee and looked at you while you struggled to contain the rabid beating of your heart in your chest. 

“S-So..What- um..-”

“Just relax” He interrupts, his voice sounded so nice, deep and smooth like a rich dark chocolate. It only manages to make you more nervous. 

“I’m sorry- I haven't actually done this before” you confess with a nervous chuckle, hands gripping your tea cup brutally. 

He gives you this half smile and you're unsure of wether he's actually human or a demi-god at this point. “I can tell, but don't worry there's no reason to be” 

You feel slightly comforted by his words and feel yourself let loose a little, “Okay, Bakugou, what do you like to do?” you ask.

“I like going to the gym” he shrugs, “I’m not really Interesting, I’m more curious about you” he says, he places his elbow on the table and rests his chin in the palm of his hand and leans in to you. His skin is so clear- not a blemish in sight and his eyes are practically burning a hole into your soul.

“M-me? I do nothing too important..I like to sew” you respond, taking a sip of your jasmine tea. You didn't necessarily want to tell him about who you were or what you did just yet, money and status only complicate things. For now, you just wanted to be a normal young woman going out on a date. 

“Come on, don't be shy, I know there's more to you than sewing” He says, removing the straw from his coffee and placing it on a neighboring napkin. 

You bite into your bottom lip, “Well, I honestly don't do much besides work, it’s taken up so much time in my life I can't say I do much else” you admit and Bakugou hums thoughtfully. He doesn't respond for a bit, the sounds of the coffee shop fill the silence instead. 

“Okay, I have an idea” 

You cock your head to the side curiously.

“Let’s ditch the formalities and go have some real fun, I think its about time you lived your life” he proposes and your mouth hands open. Was he serious? He looked it. You couldn't help the giddy feeling that bubbled up within you, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long time, excitement. It made you feel young again. 

“What do you say?”

“Alright!” 

+

The two of you spent all day together, visiting various hidden places around the city, you did shopping and even some sightseeing. For the first time in a while you felt alive, like you were actually a person and not just a unfeeling robot who simply lived to work. 

Your last stop was a park. With a large lake in the center Bakugou suggested you guys feed the birds before heading home. With a handful of birdseed you gently sprinkled some into the water and watched the geese gobble it up.

“When I was five, I had a huge fear of geese..” Bakugou admits and you're chuckling.

“No way, really?” you turned to face him and when you do he’s already looking at you, smiling fondly, eyes filled with an emotion that you really couldn't seem to put your finger on.

“What? Do I have something on my face that you're not telling me about?” You pout and he shakes his head before turning his attention back to the birds as he sprinkles more of the food into the lake. 

“No, just realized somethin’” 

The sun’s beginning to set now, the sky is illuminated by hues of orange and pink. You nudge him with your arm, “Realized what?” 

He turns back to face you, there's an adoring look on his face. 

“You look pretty when you're having fun” 

A look of surprise crosses your features before your ears burn in embarrassment at the sudden compliment, the butterflies in your stomach flutter around more and more the longer you two stare at each other. 

“Thanks” You mumble before looking down at your palm full of birdseed. 

+

Dates with Bakugou become more and more frequent after that. The two of you often meeting up more than you meet up with your regular friends. Bakugou doesn't even charge you anymore, even though you've tried to tell him it was fine he still insisted otherwise. The two of you even exchanged numbers and spoke quite often on the phone. Texts like,

‘this song reminded me of you’ and ‘don't work too hard, idiot’ were often exchanged. 

After maybe a month of this happening you realized that the warm feeling you got in your chest whenever Bakugou brushed your hair into place or stopped to tie your shoe for you or even when he texted you good morning wasn't because you appreciated him being a good friend, you liked him. It took a month to finally decipher your feelings for him but once you did..what the heck were you supposed to do now?

Never once in your life had you confessed to someone let alone dated them, what would happen to your friendship with Bakugou if things didn't work out? You didn't want to stop being friends with him, you loved being with him, he was the reason you finally started taking breaks and learned to relax. 

You had a ton of questions to answer for yourself but you couldn't do it right now, you had a date with Bakugou. He told you to dress up and you weren't sure where you were going but you trusted him to take you somewhere you'd enjoy. Around 8pm like promised, he was there to pick you up. His car was fairly nice, you assumed his high pay rates were being used for something but now you know what. He was wearing a black three piece suit, it was crisp and you could clearly tell it was expensive, his hair was slicked back and he had a single diamond stud in his left ear. He looked damn good. It was making you a little nervous about how fancy this place actually was. 

The drive to dinner was unusually quiet. Bakugou typically did most of the conversations with you seeing as you were mostly an awkward sausage but tonight was different, he had a stern look on his face and you felt a little worried. Bakugou noticed your nervous look in the rearview mirror and without skipping a beat placed his hand gently upon your thigh and gave it a small squeeze, this thumb moved back and forth in a soothing manner. All without taking his eyes off the road. 

You felt a shiver run up your spine and you bit your lip from potentially making any noise, you turned your head to face the window to prevent him from seeing the look on your face. 

+

Bakugou was right about the restaurant being fancy. The place was full of people you could recognize, everyone from business moguls to celebrities, it was almost a little intimidating but you knew probably how tough it was for Bakugou to even get a table reserved at this place so you decided to instead choke down any kindlings of anxiety and replace it with a gratefulness for his hard work.

You swirled the champagne around in your glass while Bakugou took a bite out of his steak, the atmosphere between you two was a little awkward and it hadn't been like this since the two of you met it was a little alarming. 

“Is something wrong..?” you ask after gently resting the glass back on the table, he wipes his mouth with his napkin and sighs.

“I’m sorry that- I seem so weird tonight” he apologizes and you shake your head.

“No no don't worry about it, I’m just worried something bad happened” you tell him, you lean forward and place your hand on his. His fingers lace themselves with yours and for a moment it feels like its just the two of you in the restaurant together. 

“Nothing bad, actually something good” he explains and you're giving him a small smile

“Something good?” you question and he leans in even closer to you.

“I mean, ever since I started hanging out with you I feel like my life's changed, I’m not one to be super cheesy but I just- fuck..I like you” his face is turning a light pink and in a moment of courage you close the small distance between the two of you and press your lips against his. He immediately reciprocates the kiss, his hand sneaks up your forearm and settles on your elbow using it to pull you in closer. 

When the kiss finally breaks the two of you are a panting mess, then you hear the waiter clear his throat and Bakugou uses his thumb to wipe the lipstick from the corner of his lips.

“Check, please”

+

Upon entering your home, there wasn't much speaking. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as his hands fumbled with the zipper on the back of your dress. The two of you blindly walked backwards until you tripped backwards onto the couch. Bakugou completely stripped you of your dress and  laid it across the back of the couch, your hands made quick work of his pants unbuttoning and unzipping them, he kicked them off eagerly uncaring of where the fabric was strewn. He cupped your cheek and continued to kiss you as he helped you wiggle out of your underwear. He sucked in a breath at feeling how wet you already were.  He ran a finger up and down your slit before gently nudging a finger inside. 

The sensation was foreign, it felt odd at first but the more he kept twisting and thrusting the finger inside of you the better it began to feel. He slid in another one and began making a scissor motion inside of you. Your hips raised off the cushions of the couch, you moaned into the kiss and eventually he pulled away from it, instead opting to kiss the skin of your neck. Your moans along with the wet sounds of his fingers fingering you open filled the space. It felt good, you could feel the knots in your stomach threaten to untangle the harder his fingers fucked themselves into you. 

His movements slowly came to a halt and he slid his fingers out. Your eyes clouded with tears and your legs were shaking, disappointed that he stopped when you were so close. He pulled his cock from his underwear and began stroking it over you.

“Ready?” He asks as he grinds his cock against your twitching entrance and you're gripping his shoulder before he makes another move. 

“A-actually..please just be gentle its-i’ve never done this before” you confess and his eyes widen for once, taken aback by your sudden profession. He gives you a small nod, “Promise.”

With one smooth stroke he bottoms out within you. Your back is arching off the couch as your mouth hangs open in a silent cry. The feeling is an addicting mix of pain and pleasure that has the tears you were holding in begin to roll down your cheeks, Bakugou gently kisses them away and uses his fingers to wipe away the stray tears. For a while, you're simply holding each other, bakugou whispers words of comfort in your ears while you slowly familiarize yourself with having him inside of you. 

When Bakugou feels your hips begin to move against his, he takes that as his sign to begin moving. His thrusts start shallow, hips just barely touching yours as he doesn't want to hurt you and you quickly become frustrated with his kindness. Your legs wrap around his waist and pull him closer to you, forcing him to bottom out inside you again. You whine his name and he shakes his head. 

“And here I was trying to be considerate” he huffs out, you grip his tie and pull him down and press a gentle kiss against his lips. 

“I didn't ask you to take it easy on me” you remind him and he scoffs

“You asked for this”

You're suddenly flipped onto your stomach and he raises your hips in the air, he pulls himself all the way out of you until the head of his cock is the only thing you can still feel inside of you, he rams his cock back into you and you're gripping the couch for dear life. His hips are ruthless, lewd slapping noises fill the room as the head of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust. His heavy balls  greet your clit with an unceremonious slap. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, you can't think of anything else except Bakugou. You'd been completely fucked dumb on your first time. 

You feel Bakugou’s fingers lace into your hair and grip the roots before pulling at them and forcing your head back. A jolt of pleasure flows through your body as his cock pushes up against your g-spot, your legs and kicking around behind you.

“No! cum-cumming kats I-” you can hardly finish your own sentence due to how hard your orgasm hits you, your body his shaking as bakugou releases your hair and uses his free hand to grip your waist as he desperately humps you, chasing his own release. Your cunt spasms around him in overstimulation, Katsuki only curses under his breath as you squeeze down on him, your cunt clamps down on his cock as you're brought to your second orgasm and his movements finally begin to slow and an unfamiliar warm fills your tummy. 

He doesn't pull out right away. Instead he gently lays you backwards onto his chest and you snuggle into his chest. 

He whistles, “Nice place”

“Pfft- don't try to make small talk with me after you just finished banging me” you giggle sleepily.

“Fair enough, still, I’m curious about how you can even afford this place” he wonders, hand rubbing up and down your back, only easing you closer to falling asleep.

“Hard work” you reply he takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it. 

“That’s my hard working girl” 

you feel the butterflies swarm around your stomach all over again at his small comment. 

“Does this mean we're dating now?” you ask and he gives you a little chuckle.

“Yes, if you want” 

“Good then you're my boyfriend” your eyes are fluttering closed at this point, you merely nuzzle into his chest and he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“Goodnight love” 

“Night Kats..”

[hotwings0203]

as ur irl bestie i am cashing in my favor and am asking- no begging for a dilf damon fic pls <3

😑fine fineee I guess I can take a quick break from writing BNHA stuff for you🙄

CW: NSFW, Damon Albarn being an a-hole, manipulation, gaslighting, language minor stuff like that

The studio itself was pretty spacious, you couldn't lie. As much as you loathed to give this cursed group any more credit, you were hard-pressed to remember the last time you´d been called into such a professional recording booth. You were used to dingy atmospheres, crumbling walls, stained carpet, and even cramped garages at times. It felt like your years of meticulously swaying your hand back and forth on the rosin and tuning your strings until they damn near popped were slowly going down the drain, lost in spaces of screaming adolescent boys and shady market agents. The streets of London were unforgiving for a young musician like you, no room to turn to since others were exactly in the same position as you.

 It was by pure coincidence that the day you had played for a local cafe for a small commission, Graham fucking Coxon was sitting in the back of the run-down joint, sipping a murky glass of Bourbon.

 You didn't notice him at first, of course. You had simply let the music in your mind travel from your head down to your arms, and allowed it to move through your fingertips to your bow. The serene melody that sang through the air had turned his head to face you, the shitty drink in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth. 

 Your solo was only a couple of minutes, but the second you were done and packing your bags to head out, the brunette made a beeline for you, blocking your exit.

 ¨Uh, can I help you?¨ You cock your head and shift your violin case.

 ¨Yes, you can actually. Listen, I know this is gonna sound a bit straightforward, but I really liked your piece. Did you compose it yourself?¨ He sounds quiet and sounds nervous, with him barely looking you in the eyes.

 ¨Yeah, I did!¨ You can´t help but beam-it took you several days just to perfect a few meager lines, but in the end you were content with the piece.

 ¨Wow...that's serious talent right there,¨ He opens the door for you, and you nod before you head out, him trailing behind you as he leaves with you.

 ¨You make a good amount of money doing small jobs like this?¨ His voice is nasally and low, but with a slightly higher pitch than your typical London accent.

 At this, you squint your eyes a bit and turn your head at him. It was nice of him to be interested in your work, but for someone you don't personally know, the idea of talking about your small gigs that merited little to no money was not something you were fond of.

 He senses your hesitancy and immediately withdraws. ¨I´m sorry, that was probably rude of me to be so blunt about it. Actually, I don´t think I´ve properly introduced myself.¨ He stops to face you, and you do the same.

 ¨I´m Graham Coxon. You may or may not have heard of me, but I can assure you that I too enjoy music, as an understatement.¨ He extends a calloused hand and smiles a little bit, adjusting the blocky glasses on his face.

 Graham...Coxon? Graham as in....oh, holy shit.

 ¨No way.¨

 ¨Er...unfortunately, yes way.¨ His soft voice lilts as he holds back a laugh, and you gape at him.

 ¨Oh my god!¨ You drop your violin case in the excitement of eagerly returning his handshake. ¨You-you're from Blur! I know you!¨

 ¨Was from Blur, and ´careful now, don´t wanna ruin your instrument. But listen, I´m kind of in a bind here so I´ll get to the chase. We´re working on a few chords here and there back at the studio, and I´ve been on the lookout for a while for someone who fits our tune. ´Thing is, the deadline for submitting our song is comin´ up fast, so we only have a couple weeks left.¨

 You raise your eyebrows, heart pounding in your chest as you listen to his proposition.

 ¨So I´m thinking, you sound pretty good, it's exactly what we need to fill in our bridge. I´d love it if you came in and played a tune for us. If we like you and you´re cool with it, you could feature on our song.¨

 It feels surreal. Were you hearing right? Graham Coxon from Blur asking you to play on his song? This had to be a prank.

 ¨Ẅait, but you've only heard me once, what if my sound doesn't match what you're actually looking for?¨ You stammer, palms clammy as you wipe them off on your trousers.

 ¨Well, that's what a rehearsal session is for, lovely,¨ He chuckles nervously and slides his slightly foggy glasses up his nose. ¨So, you wanna give it a go?¨

 You think for a moment, biting your lower lip. There wasn't exactly anything stopping you now, was there? I mean, sure, the prospect of playing in front of one of UK's most famous bands was daunting, but this was your chance to finally be recognized!

 Taking a deep breath, you pick up your fallen case and nod. ¨Alright, I´m in. When you do wanna meet up?¨

 Graham visibility deflates in relief, letting out a shaky exhale. ¨Great. I'll text you the time and place, yeah? The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up, so we´ll be in contact soon.¨

You both exchange numbers, your phone tingling in your hand long after you bid farewell and drive home in a buzz.

 When you finally get home to your apartment, you throw your keys onto the counter and flop down onto the mattress. What a fucking day.

 So many thoughts bounce around in your addled head. You want to do well, but obviously you don't have their kind of experience in the industry. Should you play more in tune with their song, or continue with your own sound? An idea pops into your head amidst your lunch, a few hours later. Why not just do some more research on the band themselves? Then you'd know exactly what kind of music they're looking for.

 The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up.

 Oh yeah, who else was in the band? It's not like you didn't know who Blur was at their peak, but you paid more attention to their music rather than their faces. Truthfully, you never really basked in tabloids and newspapers purring about the next big scandal, or the top dogs of Britain´s industry when that stuff was relevant.

 You abandon your pathetic sandwich and make your way to your laptop, sliding into a chair and getting down to business. After a few quick searches, you pull up a couple tabs around the name Blur.

 Graham Coxon- Recovering alcoholic. Big fight with Damon Albarn.

 Alex James- Cute boy turned conservative. Classic case.

 Dave Rowntree- Mainly untouched. Became a successful lawyer. Good for him.

 Damon Albarn- A fucking mess.

 Puffing up your cheeks and putting your hands behind your head, you lean back in your chair. Good god, this man is a wreck. Headlines from decades ago swim in and out of your eyes, loud, obnoxious neon prints of Justine and Damon broken up again? Suede claps back!, or Will the Blur Brothers ever come back to each other? Find out first-hand from Coxon himself!, and worst of all, Albarn relapses again, Damon Albarn from Blur goes head-to-head with Liam and Noel-news flash, the brothers win!

 You think you see something about him and a potential wife and child, and that's when you decide it's time to sleep.

 After all, there's no point in getting caught up in any of their backstories.You were just there to play a solo and get out. Nosing around in their lives was more trouble than what it was worth, anyways.

 Which is exactly what you kept trying to tell yourself as you walked into the modern studio two weeks later, its grey soundproof walls and white floor screaming fancy and rich to you. And fancy and rich didn't come without grit and experience, which you had none of. As if to emphasize your inexperience, you went into the wrong halls twice before you exasperatedly checked your messages with Graham and saw that no, it wasn´t room 311, it was room 113.

 Finally, finally, you came across your designated room. The mahogany door was closed, and you placed a hand on the silver knob. You could faintly hear the sounds of a guitar being played from the inside, and it was curiosity above everything else that compelled you to push it open.

 From behind the clear window that separated the booth from the recording area, you see them. Graham, Damon, and other men you don't recognize are all in the midst of the song, the same song Graham had texted you the PDF of for the violin notes. You sheepishly take a few steps forward and clear your throat to catch the attention of a bald man leaning back against his chair right in front of the glass. He turns around and you give a weak little wave, clutching your case in the other hand. 

 ¨Hey, I´m here for-¨

 ¨-Yeah, yeah, Graham told me all about you. Go on ahead and join in, they just started.¨ He pulls a toothpick out from between his lips and gestures to the door of the divider.

 You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you make your way through the second door, and the second you step inside meekly, Damon and Graham´s eyes are on you.

 Graham continues to play the guitar, only lighting up his eyes and giving you an encouraging nod when you step in, and the other two men on bass and saxophone also give a quick smile in greeting. And Damon…well.

 Damon barely acknowledges you.

 He continues to sing and stare straight ahead at the wall in front of him as if there's an interesting scene being played out on the grey paint.

 You´re unsure of whether to catch his attention and give a proper greeting, but you decide not to as it would interfere with the song. So instead, you quickly grab a nearby chair and stand and set up your rosin and papers.

 Your timing is perfect; the bridge is about to come up. Just to be certain, you look up from your poised position and catch the eyes of most everyone except for Damon´s. They all give you a quick thumbs up or an expectant look for your confirmation of playing.

 And then, it comes. Damon stops singing, and your cue to sweep your bow across the horse hairs of your strings comes.

 Melodious, whole, fulfilling, it was. Graham´s guitar chords harmonized with the tones of your violin, and music that you´ve never dreamed of creating was made by your hands exceptionally. 

 Everyone was in awe of your raw talent, from the way their gazes were rapt onto your bow, moving back and forth,staying still in some highs and whittling away at the lows. You even thought you saw the producer from inside the booth turn his head towards you from the corner of your eye, but you couldn´ be sure.

 Everyone except Damon Albarn.

 The song ended a minute later with the signal of a fading out bass, and then there was silence.

 ¨Right on with that tune.. ´Thought we'd be fucked ova´ if we didn't find someone to take that melody.¨ The bassist with long shaggy hair grinned and you returned one back.

 ¨Yeah, I was kind of hesitant when Graham ´ere told us he found one to take this position on, but I'm pleased.¨ The saxophone player scratched his chin and hummed his agreement. You felt relief.

 Until he spoke.

 ¨Is this your first time playing?¨

 You look incredulously over at him, looking straight on at his face. Sandy hair, lines on his cheeks, slight scruff around his chin, he looked older than his online pictures. 

 ¨Uhh, no?¨ You laugh a little, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. ¨If I was, I doubt Graham would think I´m good enough to play with you guys.¨

 ¨I don't think Graham is the only one who needs to think that.¨ Everyone shifts uncomfortably, looking nervously from Damon to you, and Graham tugs his collar as if the temperature had gone up.

 But nonetheless, you don't back down.

 ¨Oh yeah? How so?¨

¨You played the G-string too high,¨ He deadpans, looking utterly bored amidst oceanic hues.

 ¨What?¨ You flip your music pages a couple of times until you find the page where you played that part. ¨No I didn´t, I was right on tune-do you even know how to play the violin?¨

 ¨No,¨ he smirks, and with your blood boiling steadily you open your mouth to argue, but thankfully Graham butts in.

 ¨Damon, don´t be a prick, she played fine. Unlike you, who fucked up on the 5th verse.¨

 The man in question lazily stretches his arms above his head, causing his white tee to rise a few inches over his belly button. You can´t help but glance at the skin-it's smooth, cleanly chiseled with part of his v-line showing, a happy trail rising from the juncture.

 ¨Oi, sweetheart, eyes up here.¨

 You snap your gaze back to his smug face, cheeks burning.

 ¨I didn´t-¨

 ¨Sure you didn´t. Just like how I didn't mess up on the 5th verse, and how you didn't ruin the song with your shitty violin, yeah?¨ He simpers, and you almost rise out of your seat to snarl at him before Graham jumps in between you two, scolding a very inappropriately-grinning Damon.

 You get up out of your chair and huff, shoving your belongings back into your bag as everyone else packs up, the men bickering and playfully throwing shit at each other.

 The producer even congratulates you on your successful first day, and everyone cheers and pounds you on your back, your hair falling in your face and gracefully hiding your 120k watt smile.

 Damon shoulders right past you, knocking your case right out of your hands. You grapple with it for a second before it hits the ground, and when it does you whip around and shoot him an icy glare.

 He's not even looking at you, he's already out the door.

 It's quiet for a moment.

 ¨Well, there he goes again being a dickhead. Classic Damon, you got.¨ The saxophone player points to the leaving blond and grins sheepishly at you.

 ¨What's his problem?¨ You ask in disgust, shaking your head as you join the rest of the boys leaving.

¨Uh, well...¨ Graham scratches the back of his head and avoids looking at you. ¨He's always been kind of like that, y´know, so don't take it too personally, but between just us four, his wife´s been on his arse for a bit about um...some...domestic affairs.¨ He finishes lamely, and the other two men guffaw at your raised eyebrow.

 You don't have a chance to press further as to ask what domestic affairs, exactly because a loud clap of thunder shakes you all to your cores as you step outside.

 ¨Aw, come on!¨ You stamp your foot and hold out your hand for confirmation of the raindrops about to drop on you all. ¨I didn't know it was gonna rain today,¨ you grumble.

 Graham squints up at the sky and wipes some droplets off his blurred glasses, covering his head with his jacket hood as he begins walking to the parking garage. ¨I´ll see you lot in about a week, yeah? Just keep practicing, good rehearsal we had today!¨ He waves his hand and dashes off.

 ¨Good job on your first day, Y/N. Fancy the weather on your walk back for us!¨ The sax and bass player bid farewell and also do a sprint to their respective cars, splashing through the puddles and sending muddy water on your pants.

 ¨Urgh!¨ You raise your hands to try and protect your bottoms but to no avail- London's sewage strikes again.

 Sighing in defeat, you walk through the rain towards your car, succumbing to the grimy walk. Unfortunately you didn't think to use the parking garage due to high nerves when you first came in.

 You walk for about 5 minutes, the rain drenching your hair and clothes and chilling you to your bones.

 Could this day get any more annoying?

Oh, but you should´ve known that it could.

 Because right at that moment, a black limo swerves right next to you on the sidewalk, sending a massive wave of gutter water right your way.

 You swear loudly and jump back, barely managing to avoid the remnants of the sewage tsunami crossing your feet.

 Looking up wildly at the offensive vehicle, you make a fist and flip the window off, your lip curled up into a snarl.

 The obsidian glass rolls down.

 ¨Well that's not very nice, is it? Nasty weather we got going on right now, careful it doesn't get on your clothes.¨

 Oh.

 ¨It's you,¨ you monotone, less than pleased to see his salacious grin at your predicament-which was being soaked to your undergarments in brown muddy water, your hair clinging to your face and your violin case lugging down towards the ground, its weight proving mutiny against you today of all days.

 ¨In the flesh,¨ Damon beams, and you scowl at his cheery attitude.

 ¨You almost drowned me, asshole,¨ You turn your nose up in scorn, and he chuckles in his baritone voice.

 ¨Nah, cant´ve love, I can't drive,¨ he clicks his tongue and jerks his thumb to the seat in front of him, where you assume his chauffeur is.

 ¨Oh, so it was under your orders that your poor driver practically waterboarded me?¨ ¨Well, yeah, I mean what else do you expect me to do when I see a pretty lady walking so harmlessly in the rain?¨ Your voice catches in your throat for a second from his words and the way his glacial eyes twinkle for a moment, but then he erupts in dry chuckles at your demeanor and you throttle your hesitancy at speaking.

 ¨Shut up, you're absolutely vile, y´know that?¨ ¨So I´ve been told, but to be honest sweetheart, I´d rather hear that in bed, where I´m used to hearing it. Now are you going to get in or shall I talk about my sexual prowess with you the rest of the afternoon?¨ He opens his door from the inside and mockingly winks at you.

 You feign a gag, but still decide to jump in the spacious limo when a flash of lightning lights up the sky. 

 He scoots back to give you space to sit and adjust your violin case on the seats in front of you, but just as you´re about to close the door, he leans in right next to you and reaches behind you to pull it shut himself.

 You´re caught still as he draws close, you´re extended hand frozen in midair as his arm against your back flexes and stiffens with it pulling the door. You can feel his breath against your neck as he exhales, can feel some of his hair tickling against your ear and cheek. You hold your breath, not daring to move lest you accidentally brush up against his proximity.

 The loud slam of the door causes you to jump, and he laughs a little at that, signaling his driver to go.

 You don't quite face him, your gaze down in your lap as his entire body is facing you, still stuck in its position when he was closing the car door.

 ¨Not nervous, are you?¨ He murmurs in your ear, and you can´t help it when your whole body shivers at feeling the rumble in his gravelly voice.

 ¨N-no, I´m not. Do you have to be so close?¨ You stammer, barely giving him a sideways glance which eggs him on, much to your displeasure.

 ¨Not really. But if you´re not nervous, then it shouldn't be a problem, right?¨ He says quietly and leans around to catch your eye.

 Before you can lose your nerve and jump out of the car, you snap at him. ¨You just don´t quit, do you?¨ 

 He finally relents and the side of his pink lips lift lazily as he stretches his knees out and practically manspreads across the expanse of three seats. ¨Nope. Not that you really were against it though, ´could feel your heart pounding a mile a minute sweetheart. Trust me, I´m used to making girls nervous, I would know.¨

 You sneer at him. ¨Don´t call me sweetheart, and yeah, I was nervous about getting some disease-ridden prick like you getting close to me. God knows how many STD´s you've contracted from bedding some poor groupies.¨

¨Only one way to find out, right love?¨ He leans his head up to the car ceiling and lets his tousled golden hair flop back, his jawline accentuated by the cream-colored seats contrasting with his tan skin.

 You catch yourself staring, and shake your head quickly.

 ¨You must´ve been more hopped up on heroine than I thought if you think I´d ever fuck a self-absorbed, narcissitic bastard like you.¨

 The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but once they do your eyes widen and you clap a hand over your mouth in horror.

 Damon lifts his head and slowly turns to face you, his mouth set in a thin line.

 ¨A self-absorbed, narcissistic bastard whose limo you're riding in, need I remind you, so I can´t be all that bad. ´Can't say I haven't heard any of that before love, but most girls who say that end up in my bed anyways.¨

 You open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off.

 ¨Although, ´hopped up on heroin´ is a new one. Just exactly how much research have you done about me so far?¨

 Your rebuttal dies in your throat. You were caught.

 Your ears burn and your face flushes as you bite your lip in embarrassment. Maybe you went too far, and on top of that you let it slip that you knew about him beforehand.

 But you refuse to kowtow in humiliation to this idiot, so you think quickly.

 ¨I doubt you´ve got your head that far up your ass to disregard how half the world was tuning into your personal life when Blur was big, Damon.¨

He looks unimpressed with your excuse, but before he can open his mouth to question you further, you hurry up with another save.

 ¨Also, where are we going? You never asked me where my car was.¨

Bingo His eyes brighten and he shouts at the driver, harping on about him being a brain-dead idiot for driving in circles the past 10 minutes.

 What a save.

 *******************

The moment you step into the booth next week, a drumstick is lobbed at you from seemingly nowhere. You yelp and hold your case up, blocking the weapon as it bounces off your makeshift shield. You bring the case down and shoot a glare towards the only man you know capable of acting so childishly at his grown age.

 But he´s already scrolling through his phone, looking for a measure to start from.

 ¨You´re late.¨

 ¨Hardly,¨ you mutter, glancing at the clock on the wall. Two minutes past shouldn´t be an excuse for having a drumstick pick out your eye.

 ¨Good to see you again, Y/N,¨ Graham pipes up softly, sending you an apologetic glance from Damon to you and you stick out your tongue in faux annoyance. 

 The other two members of your group greet you as well, and you all begin practice. Notes begin harmonizing together, voice and sound coinciding to make music you´ve swayed your hips and nodded your head to on blue nights.

 It´s a hot day, humidity clinging to your skin akin to the perspiration hanging off your forehead, and halfway through the song you decide to take off your sweater. You´re wearing a white tank top underneath, nothing too revealing save for the slight dip in the V-neck, but you couldn't care less about modesty at the moment when your fingers were literally slipping in their grasp on your sweat-slicked bow.

 During a quick break in your part of the song, you slip off your sweater and fan yourself out. It feels good, but you feel a pair of eyes staring at you. Following the laser gaze, you turn your head to face Damon, but he´s nose-deep in the lyrics sheet, warbling about a broken love or friendship. 

 Huh, must´ve been imagining it.

 Your solo comes up, and you prepare yourself for tackling the notes to your best ability, keeping up with Graham´s rapid guitar pace. Sweat continues to build on everyone´s vicinity when the rapid movement of arms waving around their own instrument causes more body heat to suffocate you all.

 Miraculously, the song finishes, and you collapse in your seat like the rest of the men, panting and wiping slick off your foreheads. You reach for a bottle of water on the floor and unscrew the lid, grimacing at its lukewarm temperature but drinking it nonetheless.

 For the second time, you have an unnerving feeling of being watched. This time, you whip your head to the side and catch him staring straight at you. 

 Damon´s face is flushed, his hair tousled, his rose colored glasses steamed up from the muggy aura in the room. His denim jacket is hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his torso covered with a sheer wife beater that accentuates his chiseled dad-body.

But he just stares you down, saying nothing. You frown at him a little bit and shift your body away from him, feeling vulnerable to his laser-gaze. His eyes darken, but Graham speaks, cutting him off from whatever he was about to say.

 ¨That was pretty good, you lot. Greg, Taz, hold off on the third beat of the fourth measure. We´ve gotta crescendo slightly-¨

 ¨Y/N, do you have a job?¨

 Damon's voice cuts off Graham, and everyone falters as they look at him and then you in surprise.

 ¨I don´t know what you mean,¨ you respond coolly, knowing that whatever he was about to say wasn't good.

 ¨I mean, do you have a job? Because as far as I know, most people who work don't dress like whores at their job.¨

 His eyes travel from your face down to your slight cleavage, and you sputter in rage as the rest of the boys shift uncomfortably.

 ¨Damon, for god's sake what´re you on about?¨ Graham asks wearily, taking his glasses off and rubbing his shiny neck.

 ¨I could ask you the same thing, actually. Because as far as I know, you've fucked enough women in your lifetime that one would think you could keep it in your pants for five minutes without acting like a twelve-year-old. Oh, but unless that´s too professional for you? I guess you´re not as serious about your work environment as you claim.¨ you laugh, and the sax player, Greg, snorts into his water bottle.

 Damon sneers, ¨How could I forget, you actually have done your research about my life and sexual endeavors, what a cute little fangirl you are. If you wanted an autograph, you could've just asked, sweetheart.¨

 ¨Go fuck yourself,¨ you snap. ¨You´re all wearing wife-beaters anyways, what's the difference?¨

 Damon starts again but Graham claps his hands loudly, startling you all.

 ¨Enough, both of you! What's gotten into you? Need I remind you that our song is due in less than two weeks? We need to finish this shit and get on with it. Stop acting like children.¨

 You mumble under your breath and Damon shoots a dark look to his childhood friend, but the brunette doesn't back down, and continues to give advice on how to improve their song. You don´t look at Damon the rest of the session out of pure spite, but that doesn't stop him from shamelessly staring straight at you, right until it's time to leave.

 The second Graham checks his watch and exclaims that it's a quarter past twelve already, you´re already bolting out of your seat and shoving your violin in its case, eager to get out of the disgustingly hot room.

 Fortunately, this time you had the right idea to park in the garage like everyone else to avoid any other unwanted encounters, but unfortunately while it was nice to not be waterboarded on your walk, it wasn´t enough to stop said unwanted encounters from occurring.

 Take right now, for instance.

 As you stumble to your car in the blistering weather, your energy depletes faster and faster, causing you to be light headed. Practice was already tough enough in the sweltering heat, but after Damon's little scene you don't have any energy to even walk.

 You crash blindly into your car, the metal of the doors burning your skin as you make contact with the handle. You hiss and jerk back, swaying slightly as your head fogs up. You can barely see, you feel like your clothes weigh a ton on you, so you slide down the vehicle and sit up against the tires, throwing your head back against the car and groaning. The idea of unlocking your doors and sitting in the seat where no doubt several temperatures higher will be settling on the dashboard and in the front row is nauseating.

 Weather-2

You-0

 You don't know the building well enough to know where a vending machine is, and even if you shot Graham a text, you don't have enough energy to wander around and scout for it.

 And lo and behold, from a distance, a figure approaches. You squint as it draws nearer, and let out a laugh as the features come into familiarity.

 The heat must be getting to you worse than you thought, because you´re certain you´re hallucinating Damon Albarn of all fucking people swaggering towards you, one hand holding his denim jacket over his shoulder, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he comes to stand in front of you.

 All you can do is pant like a dog, looking up at him with unimpressed eyes.

 ¨Oi, G-String. ´Brought you some water.¨ he holds out a hand, and you choose to ignore the offensive nickname, insead noticing the large bottle in it, cold condensation covering its expanse.

 Your eyes widen and you lick your lips unconsciously, holding your hands out for it.

 Damon watches your tongue poke out and loses focus before snapping back to reality and moving his arm above your head. You pout and try to reach for it again, but he laughs and holds it even higher.

 You glare and turn your head away from him, suddenly remembering how he embarrassed you earlier. 

 ¨Go away. I don't want it anymore. You´re an asshole.¨ you mumble, perspiration hanging off your lip as you lick the salty beads away once again.

 Damon´s eyes never leave your mouth as he listens to you and watches the pink appendage make its appearance again, and his mouth hangs open slightly unbeknownst to you for a second. You cross your arms and glare at the empty parking lot, silently willing him to go away.

 He snaps back into focus yet again and shakes his head at you. ¨Oh come on love, I´m just teasing. You look like you´re about to die anyways, might as well make this your last meal-er, drink I mean.¨

 ¨I´m not taking anything from a complete dickhead who enjoys harassing women about their clothes. You know, for such a womanizer, you act pretty clueless about how comments like that would make a girl feel. No one else but you had an issue with it, or rather, had the audacity to point it out.¨ You cough at the last word, your dry throat and heavy head making it harder to talk.

 He sighs and crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet. He pops open the cap and gently turns your chin towards his face, much to your surprise. You´re genuinely too weak to protest, but when you look at his concerned face, eyebrows scrunched up and accentuating the lines on his forehead, you don't think you'd want to turn away even if you could.

 He coaxes your agap mouth even more open by dragging a rough thumb down over your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, mesmerized by his eyes. His movements are soft and slow, as if you were a fidgety rabbit about to run off at the slightest touch. He scoots closer, right over in front of you as you simply gaze up at him, allowing him to pour cool water down your throat, quenching your bone-dry palate.

 For a couple of seconds, water floods your mouth but all you can do is stare up at him. The light rays are reflecting off his back, casting a yellow glow around his silhouette and he almost looks like an angel. His hair is mussed as if he'd spent the day running his hands through the golden locks, and the scruff on his face peeks through soft-looking skin.

 ¨Swallow, or I'll really waterboard you this time,¨ he says lowly, chuckling a bit as he catches you staring so adamantly right in his face. You jerk back to consciousness and swallow hastily, accidentally choking on the gulp in your rush.

 He laughs even more and lets go of your chin much to your disappointment as he adjusts himself to sit next to you, not seeming to mind the scorching car metal. The absence of his hand on your face leaves a cold, empty feeling in your heart despite the heated blush on your cheeks

 ¨You´ll burn yourself,¨ you mumble, lolling your head over to look at him.

 But he looks straight ahead and shrugs casually. ¨Not any more than you.¨ You both sit in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sipping from the bottle he passes towards you and watching cars go by.

 ¨You didn't answer my question. Why do you harp on me in the studio? You act like a normal human being here.¨

 Damon looks thoughtfully at a white sedan passing by, then speaks.

 ¨As I´m sure Graham has blabbed to you already, I´ve been having some...trouble with the missus, let's say.¨

 You say nothing and raise a questioning eyebrow.

 ¨For the shitty attitude,¨ he mutters and swipes the bottle from your hand, taking a large swig himself.

 ¨And, like you said earlier, I am an asshole. Of course I´ll enjoy harassing pretty women over their revealing clothes,¨ he smirks and gives you a once over.

 There it was again, pretty woman.

 You scowl and get up to leave, but what he says stops you in your tracks.

 ¨Taz was lookin´ at you,¨ he says quietly, suddenly very interested in the now-empty bottle. ¨´Didn't like it, but I couldn't say anything to him. Graham likes him too much.¨

 Huh. Maybe the pair of eyes you felt back in the room didn't only belong to Damon.

 He cracks a small smile and looks up at you, his face adorably innocent and wide as he sheepishly admits, ¨I´m used to butting heads with blokes like him for women.¨

 You jerk back up to your feet, brushing off any insinuation he was giving and pat his knee awkwardly, ignoring the fire now igniting once again in your chest.

 ¨Thanks for the water, I needed it. You might wanna move if you don't want to get run over by my car.¨ You reach down and pick up your case as Damon clambers to his feet.

 He looks amused as you fumble for your keys, nervously turning the lock and sitting in the hot car, obviously eager to get away from his intimidating gaze.

 ¨I´ll see you next week, yeah?¨ You laugh breathlessly and roll your window down to call out to him.

 He says nothing, but merely cocks his head at you, his eyes now obscured by the rose-colored glasses he puts over his eyes. He waves a little and watches as you drive away a little too fast.

 But as it turns out, you don't see him next week.

 ******

It was just your luck that one of the cutest guys from your work asked you out on the very same week you had practice with the boys. You contemplated moving the date to another time, but...you deserved to have some fun time off too, right? It's not like it would make too much of a difference in your skill, anyways, you´ve gotten all the strings down and such.

 So, you decide to go on this date. It goes well, the dude was cute, dorky, lacked a little pizzazz but nothing a bottle of fancy red wine and a night of movies couldn´t coax out of him. It honestly wasn't anything too big, you exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up again soon. After parting ways, you threw yourself back into the regular regime of practicing your violin and meticulously listening to the booth recording every night, just so you could perfect your part to a T.

 The day came where you had to go back to practice, and you were ready, veins pumping with determination to make these last few sessions the best you´ve played yet. You texted Graham that you´d be there soon, and he gave you a thumbs up in return. When you finally arrived in front of the room, you were 10 minutes late. The boys were already playing, by the sound of the percussion booming outside the door. You grimace and take a deep breath, turning the handle in and hurrying inside the booth.

 No one really spared a glance at you, so you assumed you were okay in terms of punctuality. You opened your case and started strumming your strings, counting the measures and beats until it was your turn. Damon´s voice rang out, melodious and airy as ever, dropping octaves and floating on soprano tones. Your bow moved across his words, accenting his tones and adding emphasis to his sorrowful song. And then, after a couple of minutes, it was done.

 ¨Alright you lot, pretty good for today. ´Specially you, Y/N, you caught up pretty quick, I expected you to slack behind but I'm actually impressed.¨ Graham flashed you a nervous grin and you beamed back at him in return.

 ¨Yeah, speaking of, why were you gone last week? I expected someone who makes below the poverty line would actually want to work for their money,¨ Damon chuckles a little meanly.

 You feel your smile drop a smidge.

 ¨Well actually Damon, not that it's any of your business, but I went on a date.¨ You smirk at him, enjoying the way his mouth opens slightly and moves silently.

 But he regroups quickly and glares at you. ¨None of my business? The deadline is only a few days away, and you´re whoring yourself out and going on dates? I guess you´re not as professional as Graham thought.¨

 Everyone shifts uncomfortably, and blood rushes to your face, anger clouding your mind. Why was he being like this? He was fine the last time you saw him, you actually thought maybe he was going to change the way he addressed you.

  Graham speaks up. ¨Damon. You´re overreacting man, I gave her the okay, and she played fine today. No harm done, seriously, there's no need for that kind of language towards her.¨

 ¨Actually, there absolutely is a need. If I knew you were going to invite a prostitute as our sub-in then I would´ve never agreed to have her here. Didn´t know you were so low on money Y/N, I would´ve spared you a couple pounds.¨ He sneers.

 ¨Damon!¨

 You laugh bitterly and rise to your feet. ¨Oh that's rich, coming from the man who fucked half the continent just because he couldn't get over one girl. No wonder every real woman in your life including your wife wants to leave, nothing is ever good enough for you. Except heroin maybe.¨

 The words leave your mouth before you can take them back, and there's a pin drop silence as if a bomb had been dropped. In a way, it kind of did.

 Damo glares at you. Everyone is holding your breath, including you.

 ¨Get out.¨

 ¨Hey,-¨ Taz tries to gently interject but Damon throws the mic at him. 

 ¨I said get the fuck out. You´re not practicing with us anymore, you can pack your shit and leave.¨

 Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, and you choke out a small ¨Fine.¨

 You hear Graham berating him behind you as you fly through the door, telling him that they need you, it's too late to change people, but the words jumble in your ears as the door slams shut. You don't hear what Damon says, if he even says anything, and you aren't interested in his comebacks right now.

 It's only when you leave the car, tears streaming down your face in rage and embarrassment that you groan to yourself, your hands reaching an empty seat with one foot out the door-

You forgot your violin case.

 ************

 It's nighttime.

 The crickets chirp as you creep silently through the parking garage, the soft thud of your shoes echoing a lot louder than you wanted in the empty lot. The studio itself wasn't closed, but you were sure Damon must have informed the manager there not to let an ex-musician like you back in there.

 Wearing a black hoodie and black pants was a smart move- you blended in with the shadows well. The doors weren't locked, and you hiss out a small ¨yesss¨ as you slip inside the mostly dark building. Needless to say, you were proud of yourself for navigating through the windings pitch-black hallways to your old booth.

 Testing the handle lightly, you sigh out in relief when that too gives way. Unfortunately though, the second the door shuts behind you, you immediately stumble forward and fall. 

 The room is dark, darker than the other hallways so you can barely see your hands. The only source of light you´re granted is the dim red bulb on top of the booth door. And speaking of, that's exactly where you need to go...which proves to be harder when you keep bumping into random shit and cursing when you feel potential bruises forming on your shins.

 Miraculously you stagger through the next door towards where you last sat, and blindly feel around the floor and chairs for your violin case. You feel nothing there, but panic starts settling in your heart when you can't find it.

 ¨Looking for something?¨

 You scream and lurch backwards, knocking your head into some kind of stand. Groaning, you rub your head and hold a hand on your racing heart as you squint into the dim red room, placing the voice to the person.

 ¨D-Damon?¨ 

 ¨In the flesh sweetheart. ´Knew you'd come back for this, s´just my luck I came back to get it tonight so I could give it to you personally in case you wanted to be stubborn. But this is even better than I could´ve hoped.¨

 You make out his silhouette in the obsidian abyss in front of you. He's sitting with knees spread on a chair, a few feet in front of you as he leans his head back on the wall. Your precious violin case is being held hostage in his arms, and it's the absolute love you have for the brittle instrument that propels you to your feet and moves you to get the hell out instead of interrogating him.

 ¨What, so you were just here the whole time listening to me falling around like an idiot?” You laugh incredulously, and you see the area of his shoulders move up and down.

 ¨Was pretty funny to watch, honestly. You sound cute when you curse.¨ He stands up to his fullest height now, the red light bouncing off his back, giving him a sort of demonic halo.

 You knew it was actually time to leave when you felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach rise up again.

¨Right, well, I´ll be on my way then. Good luck with your song and whatever, I´ll just take the case...¨ You trail off as your extended hand is left in midair, no violin case reaching it.

 He cocks his head at you. ¨Why are you in such a rush to leave?¨

 You can´t help the scoff that escapes you. 

 ¨Are you serious? You were such an absolute dickhead to me this afternoon, you said all sorts of horrible things to me, and you even fired me for Christ's sake! I want nothing to do with you, so could you please give me my case back so I can go?¨

 He's silent for a moment before answering. ¨Are you done yet?¨

 It isn´t just the light that's making you see red now.

 ¨Fuck you, honestly.¨ You whirl around and stomp towards where you guess the  door is, ignoring the clatter behind you and bingo you locate the handle, but as soon as you turn it-

 A hand reaches from behind you and pulls the ajar door shut.

 ¨Don´t go. I´m sorry.¨

 You´re absolutely still as you feel him towering over you, his arm dangerously close to your midriff as his hand remains on the knob.

 His voice is low, and you can feel him breathe against your neck, mere inches away. You can´t help the involuntary shiver that passes through you, and he feels it too, inhaling deeply when he gets close to your ear.

 ¨You smell so good.¨

 ¨Leave me alone, Damon,¨ you whisper, your voice catching in your throat from the overwhelming onslaught of emotions passing through you.

 He breaths in and slowly lets his hand rest on your side.

 ¨I can't do that. You know why. You have to have known by now.¨

 You tremble in his touch, yet allow his hands to wander down to your hip, the other coming around in a sort of hug to pull you closer to him.

 ¨We can´t.¨

 ¨Sure we can.¨

 You can feel his erection bumping against your ass.

 ¨You´re not worth this.¨

 ¨I´ll make myself worth it.¨

 And as soon as he latches onto the back of your neck, you´re like putty in his hands, a moaning mess as he sucks galaxy-colored hickies on your skin. You can feel yourself grow wetter as he shoves his hands up your shirt and teasingly pulls down the bridge of your bra, letting the weight of your tits fill up his hands appreciatively. He starts rolling your hardened buds in between his skilled calloused fingers, and you whine and throw your head back when you feel him rut against your ass, panting raggedly in your ear.

 You rub your thighs together, desperate for some form of friction as he squeezes your tits, and then letting one hand ghost across the expanse of your stomach, down to brush against the rim of your panties. Damon chuckles meanly in your ear when you buck against the stilled hand over your mound.

 ¨You want this?¨ He lightly nips your ear. He smells like old spice and sandalwood.

 You nod desperately, frustrated with him not giving you his thick fingers already.

 But it's not enough for him. ¨No no, pretty girl, use your words now. I´ve barely touched you yet and you´re already moaning like a wanton little slut for me? And here I was thinking you weren't that easy.¨

 You stop jerking your hips and blood rushes to your face at his insulting words. You try to move out of his grip, huffing and regretting the whole thing but he outright laughs now and spins you around, tugging you forward until your chest is slotted against his. You pout at him and look away, but he's quick to grasp your chin and pull you in for a rough yet sensual kiss.

Pushing you backwards against the wall, he deepens the lip-lock, tracing his tongue over your lips, nipping at the soft flesh and darkening his eyes when you whimper and look up at him.

 He knows what he´s fucking doing when he again drops his hand under your pants and over your panties, his other palm wound up firmly through your hair. He pulls your head back and lets you breathe for a second from his kiss of death before he speaks again.

 ¨I didn't hear an answer, slut. Do you want this?¨ He leans forward until his nose brushes against your neck, flicking his tongue out to taste your saccharine flesh.

 You tremble against his firm body when he pushes his pelvis against you, letting you feel how hard he is for you.

 It doesn't matter anymore. Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an easy slut putting up a facade for him, but when his clothes erection grinds up against your pussy you can't care less.

 ¨Y-yes, yes, ´want you, please,¨ you pant, frantically gripping the back of his cropped hair as his head descends to mark your neck again.

 ¨What a good girl,¨ he whispers, finally allowing his digits to oh-so-slowly trace over your mound, pressing down harder when you jerk against him. He finds your wet clit and flicks it a few times, snickering when you gasp and moan. Your body writhes in place but he holds you literally between a rock-or, wall- and a hard place, preventing you from scampering off.

 He drums his fingers against your folds, paying no attention to the way you grip his head tighter against you, silently begging him to go further.

 But he relents eventually and retires from just pushing and prodding your folds, allowing his slicked fingers to slowly dive into your drooling hole. You whimper and bite back a string of curses when you feel him fill you completely, scraping against your walls for that one special spot.

 His mouth moves off your neck and he rises to face you, a stupid smug grin on his wet lips, his eyelids lowered and trained on you. You flush at his lustful expression and gently push his head away, not wanting to accept his victory yet.

 ¨My fingers are literally fucking you right now, and you still won´t let me look at you? What, too embarrassed you couldn't continue being a stone-cold bitch for long?¨

 You open your mouth to snap back but right at that moment he curls his fingers and grazes your G-spot, simultaneously grounding his wet palm against your clit.

 With a loud gasp and the sluttiest moan you´ve ever made, you cum hard, your mouth open in a silent scream and your tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat as you do so. You fall forward against him.

 You don't even need to look up to know that he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

 ¨What was that sweetheart? Sorry, ´couldn't hear you over those slutty moans. I think even the pornstars I´ve been with would give you a standing ovation if they heard what you just sounded like.¨

 Your words are slurred as you curse nonsense at him, yet you´re still gripping his forearms to keep a hold on yourself. Your ears are ringing and you see spots as you come down from your climax, and surprisingly enough, Damon holds you close and doesn't let you slip down to the ground as you expected to when your knees start to give out.

 Instead, he lifts you up quite easily and carries you over to a table in the corner of the room. You don´t know how he even navigates his way through the dimly lit room, but you suppose after almost half a lifetime in studios he knows his way around.

 You offer no resistance as he sets you down gently and begins to lift your shirt off of your body. You manage to lift your arms weakly up in the air for easier access to stripping, but when he starts to kneel down to take your pants off you stop his hands at your knees and look at him with scrunched eyebrows.

 He stops and looks up at you. His eyes aren't so darkened anymore, they´re wide and imploring, probably noticing your hesitation.

 ¨Damon, I...¨ You trail off as he maintains eye contact with you and slowly lowers his pursed lips to your calf, lightly pecking his way up to your knees and ensuring that you´re watching his every move.

 Your breathing increases again as his pink appendage darts out, his saliva cooling on your exposed thighs. He sucks on the plush skin and turns his head upwards to face you.

 You want to run your hands through his hair.

 ¨You have a wife,¨ You breathe.

 ¨Not for tonight I don´t.¨

 Your voice gets caught in your throat at that. He positions his hands at the side of your knees, fingers curling around the hem of your pants in a second attempt.

 ¨Let me make you feel good, love.¨

His answer is in the form of your hand reaching for his collar and pulling him up into a standing position until he towers over your seated form, once again breath stolen in a heated kiss.

 Damon fumbles with his zipper as you shove your pants off, fully ready for him now, your dampened panties solid evidence of your need for him.

 He pulls his cock out and it bounces out, slapping up against his stomach.

 You do a double take. The tabloids were right. He was absolutely huge.

 It was disgusting almost, it was insulting really. How the fuck could he be that big? You lose count of how many inches he is when you start to get light headed, realizing with a jolt that he plans to put that monster inside you.

 And fuck, why did it have to be so pretty too? Normally you wouldn´t use the word pretty to describe a dick, but fuck, that´s the only appropriate word that came to mind as you admired the white flesh as it mixed in with a dull pink flush turning into an angry shade of red as your eyes progressed up to his tip...which was soaked with precum, mind you.

 He was neatly shaven everywhere, including his plush balls. No wonder he got to fuck half the continent.

 Damon notices your gawking and smiles lazily, taking a fist around his prick and stroking lethargically up and down.

 ¨You gonna just stare at it all day or are you going to spread those cute legs for me?¨

 Spoken like a true middle aged fuck-boyman.

 You look up at him beseechingly, thoroughly intimidated by his length. He merely scoffs, winking at you when he wrenches your tightly closed knees apart.

 It's almost like he falls into a trance when he presses his now-naked torso against your chest, when he slots himself between your legs and drags his tip through your sloppy folds and up onto your clit. His mouth falls open slightly and he moans when your juices coat his dick, making it slippery and easy to push the first few inches ever so slightly into your spasming cavern.

 He can't help but want more, need more as he practically smothers his weight onto you, forcing you to lie back on the table and letting your legs dangle off the edge. He hunches over you and thrusts minutely into your pulsing folds, groaning when you whine and lace your fingers around his neck and tangle your legs around his back, dragging him impossibly close into you.

 For a moment it´s just the sound of you two panting and moaning like inexperienced teenagers, and a zing of pride zips up your spine at the realization that Damon Albarn, one of the world's most renowned playboy is whining and humping against your pussy, reduced to nothing at your hands.

 He takes your hands from around his neck and grips your wrists, forcing them above your head on the table. He leans down and kisses you, hard. You give him back the same energy when your hips move up and down along his length, pushing your inviting hole towards his eager and jumping dick.

 ¨Pretty little girl,¨ he murmurs against your lips, and you nip his bottom lip playfully in retaliation. He slowly starts to sink himself into you, and you practically purr at the feeling of his veiny member dragging against your sensitive walls until he stops. 

 You look at him questioningly, and blanch when you see the mischievous glint in his cobalt eyes.

 ¨I want you to count for me.¨

¨Count…?¨ You shake your head in confusion and he pulls out, making you groan in annoyance.

 ¨I want you to count every inch I put inside you. Unless your slutty mouth can't even do that? I'd be surprised if you couldn´t, you usually have so much shit to say.¨ His voice is low yet teasing, and a shiver passes through you when the rumble of his chest vibrates against your nipples.

 ¨F-fine, I´ll count.¨

 He hums in approval and regroups, guiding his length into your awaiting pussy once again.

 It´s almsot torture how slow he goes, and your toes curl at how vivid the sensation is at this pace.

 You almost forget to do what he asks until he ducks his head down and teeths your bud.

 ¨Ah, fuck! One!¨ You yelp, writhing to get away from his lecherous gaze and hold on your poor tit.

 He tuts and licks the swollen area until the pain subsides a bit, and then he continues to push.

 ¨T-two,¨ you moan and let your head fall back. It's unfair how tightly he´s holding your reins-you want him to plow you down, not take his sweet time in this punishment.

 ¨Damon, can´t you go any faster? Please, I want y-¨

¨-I didn't take you for a masochist, Y/N, but I´m happy to play around with these cute tits if you want to bitch more.¨

Your scowl is cut off when he suddenly shoves two more inches into you, and you mewl loudly at being filled so much.

 ¨Three! Four! Fuck, oh god, please,¨ you babble nonsense as he curses above you, his form shaking in an effort not to push all the way in.

 ¨Doing so good sweetheart, you´re almost halfway,¨ he smirks and you gape at him in disbelief.

 Halfway?

 Five, six, seven, eight, and nine go painfully slow, and by the time he´s fully sheathed inside you, plush balls pressed against your ass, you´re an incoherent, drooling mess.

 Your hair is in your face, your cheeks are flushed, and your body bounces up and down as he begins to rock inside you, finally giving you what you want.

 His name is chanted like an obscene prayer from your mouth as he grunts and shakes the table. Your legs are wobbly and unable to do anything except press him tighter against you to the point where he can barely move back. The skin of his stomach slaps against yours, his balls slap against the crevice of your ass, and your pussy practically sloshes with every stroke in and out.

 He fists your hair with one hand and pulls your neck up to meet his searching lips, his other hand holds your wrists fast against the table. You want to touch him, you want to explore your body as he has conquered yours but he doesn't let you feel anything else apart from the rapid thrusts inside your battered body.

 Damon switches positions and lifts the back of your knees up and pushes them forwards until they meet your chest. He lets his body weight rest on the back of your thighs as he pulls out and pushes back impossibly close inside you, closer than he did in missionary. 

 You sob with need as he plunges into you and reaches a higher spot than before, his tip grazing your cervix. He pounds into you, and you thrust your hips up to fuck back into him, calling out his name as if he were your god.

 It´s a good thing the rooms are soundproof.

 You feel your second climax comes when he paves way through your tight walls and batters your uterus. It doesn´t hurt so much as feel intense, and your choked moans become panting gasps when he brings a hand down to swirl his thumb over your aching clit.

 ¨You´re not going to meet with that prick from your work again, yeah? Say it. Say it if you want me to let you cum.¨ He could have been speaking an alien language for all you knew. Your poor addled brain didn't pick up anything except for the word ¨cum¨, and you were a goner.

 ¨Yes, yes, anything you say, anything you want, just please let me-¨

And oh he does.

 It comes over you like a tidal wave, your mind going blank, your eyes seeing white as your legs shake from your earth-shattering orgasm. You feel like you´re going down a rollercoaster, and you never want to stop dropping.

 Distantly, you hear him groan and say your name. You can feel pulsing in your filled walls, with what you assume is his ropes of cum. It feels like when you came, it practically squeezed all his cum out with your clenching.

 He lets out a shaky breath and falls forward, his nose inches from yours, his breath puffing in your face.

 Your eyes are glazed over, but you´ve never seen anything more clearly before.

 Maybe Damon Albarn really was worth it.

[lxngbottom]

More mute fic pls omg

Mute | N.L (Part 2)

in which the reader doesn’t talk, and neville is still trying to change that.

warnings: some angst, bullying, swearing (let me know if there are more!)

word count: 2,877

i wasn’t planning on making a part 2 to this but you ask i deliver!! but, maybe a part 3 as well if i feel like the story isn’t finished!

PART 1 HERE!

—

since that day in the library, neville longbottom could not seem to get y/n off of his mind. she ran through it like a marathon, but neville enjoyed every second of it. he couldn’t seem to forget the little giggle that left your lips on that day, or the way you uttered that “goodnight” to him.

he came to visit her quite a few times in the library after that. he wouldn’t go everyday unlike her, due to the fact he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. he liked spending time with you, even if the conversations were one sided. but, he couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room...

she still had yet to say anything else.

so when today came, he was prepared to get some progress. he felt some sort of guilt due to the fact he would never want to make her feel like you were some sort of experiment to him, or to anyone else. he just hated seeing her so lonely.

the great hall rung out with the sound of chattering and gossip as breakfast continued. neville found himself searching for y/n, as she hadn’t shown up yet. but, when she finally walked in with two books grasped into her hand, a bright smile formed onto the boy’s face.

“what are you so cheery about, longbottom?” seamus asked with a raised eyebrow. but it didn’t take him long to realize what his herbology loving friend was so happy about. because he looked over at where neville was staring, and he connected the dots. “merlin’s beard... you fancy mute!”

dean and him chuckled at the thought,

“what?! no i don’t! and... don’t call her that.” neville clapped back, finally ripping his eyes away from y/n.

“oh, it’s alright, longbottom. we’re just messing with you. but seriously, if you fancy her, why don’t you ask her out?” dean asked, hitting seamus on the shoulder.

neville shrugged, “she won’t talk.”

seamus rolled his eyes, “well, no shit.”

the three boys looked over at her, and her nose was dug into the same herbology book she had checked out a week ago. the look on her face would confirm that she seemed content with how the day was going so far.

but, of course, the slytherins had to change that.

as y/n was reading up on the finer details of a water plant, she felt something hit the back of her head. neville quickly looked over, and saw malfoy and his goons laughing like a pack of wild dogs. he looked over to y/n once more, and saw her staring at the piece of toast that had settled on landing on the floor.

she sighed, but decided to ignore it.

“hey, mute!” malfoy called out for her, another piece of toast in hand. y/n looked behind her, locking eyes with the white haired boy. “think fast!”

he threw another piece, this time right on her face. and sure enough, it was covered in butter and jam. it hit right on her cheek, and it stuck for a moment before sliding off onto her jumper.

for once, the expression on her face leaked pure anger. she whipped her head around once more, and her mouth fell open for one single moment to speak. it seemed as if the whole slytherin table went quiet for a moment, just waiting for her to say something. anything.

neville as well sat, staring intently at her. he just wanted to her stand up for herself, at least once.

but, as the words attempted to crawl their way out of her, they went right back down. she couldn’t muster up the strength to say anything,

“got something to say, mute?” draco teased, flashing a grin at her, “oh, wait. i forgot. you can’t talk!”

his friends all chuckled at malfoy’s stupid joke, and y/n simply collected her things, and dashed out of the great hall.

neville sighed, his fist clenched from aggravation.

“maybe... some speech therapy would work?” dean suggested suddenly, and neville shook his head.

—

care for magical creatures was never something that neville found interesting, but he enjoyed walking out into nature with his friends, hearing hagrid ramble on about dragons and how there living environments are.

“this ere’ creature is a classic, but an ol’ favorite of mine. i’m sure yer’ all familiar with it,” hagrid spoke excitedly, walking over to a random tree bush.

all of the students watched intently as he bent down, and grabbed the unknown creature from the bush. y/n seemed just as intrigued as anyone else did. and neville couldn’t help but smile at the way you got on your tippy toes to see what creature hagrid had in store for everyone today.

“he’s er’ a bit hungry today. but, that’s why you all are ere’ i pose’,” hagrid explained, and finally, he pulled out the mystery creature hiding behind the bush. the students let out a mantra of “awww’s” as hagrid carried a niffler in his hand. he walked up closer to everyone, showing the creature off a little.

“nifflers don’t really ever bite. unless, of course’, you makin’ him angry!”

y/n stared at the creature intently, and focused on writing down the physical details. what color it was, what shape it was. she would never admit it, but she absolutely loved care for magical creatures. it was one of her favorite classes, as she loved learning about the cutest creatures and how they lived their lives.

“he’s cute, isn’t he?” y/n heard from right beside her. she looked over and saw neville longbottom, smiling lightly at her. “were we supposed to take notes? oh dear...”

y/n quickly shook her head at his worry, and closed her notebook. she could do research on nifflers at some other time.

neville and y/n stood beside each other, listening to hagrid’s lesson. neville would glance over at her, just to remind himself of how she looked. her face was morphed into a focused one, and she bit the inside of her lip. he couldn’t help to notice her side profile, and how perfectly constructed the girl seemed to be.

“right’, who wants to feed him?” hagrid asked the large group of students, and all of them automatically shot their hands up in the air, wanting nothing more to pet the niffler.

y/n wanted to, she wanted to do bad, but, she couldn’t raise her hand. she didn’t have the courage to. neville noticed that it was killing her to not be one of the kids to raise their hand, and he could tell that she genuinely wanted to feed the niffler.

hagrid skimmed through the students, pondering on who he should pick. but out of all of the students, he noticed one who didn’t in fact have her hand raised. but, looked quite interested.

“miss y/l/n, is it? come on ver’ ere’!”

y/n’s eyes widened, and everyone looked at her. they all huffed and rolled their eyes as she slowly approached hagrid. neville of course, had the goofiest smile laid upon his round face. he was happy that she got picked, even if she didn’t raise her hand for it.

“ere’, hold him for just one moment,” hagrid requested, passing the niffler over to y/n. when she obtained it, she smiled softly.

the niffler seemed to take notice to the girl’s feature, and he nibbled at the ends of her hair as hagrid grabbed the food. “aye! what i’d tell ye’ about nibblin’ on young ladies hair?! it’s not nice!”

y/n giggled at hagrid’s “parenting”, and pet the niffler on the top of the head. some students seemed to be shocked that she let out a small laugh such as that one, but neville was in bliss.

“right’, jus’ take a piece...” hagird began, reaching into the bag of food, “and just put it by its beak!”

hagrid did so, and the niffler almost chomped on his fingers from how hungry he was. hagrid let out a chuckle, as well as y/n as the hungry niffler chewed on its food. “yer’ turn, miss?”

and y/n repeated the same thing. she smiled as the niffler made small noises, and reached for more food. “one more!” hagrid barked, and popped the piece of food right into it’s mouth.

hagrid began to explain the finer details of nifflers, and what they really were. y/n held the niffler patiently, playing with it a little as hagrid kept on with today’s lesson.

“see, somethin’ else they love is for a wizard er’ witch to speak to em’. they can be quite the talkative creature,”

y/n’s eyes went wide from the giant’s statement, and she started to hope & pray that hagrid’s next choice of words weren’t going to be what she thought they might be.

but, her hopes were faltered;

“go on! tell em’ yer’ name!”

neville stared, knowing what was probably coming next. he could tell from the drop in her face that she was anxious,

“don’t be scared, now! go on!”

y/n looked the niffler in the eyes, and it looked like it was waiting, just like everyone else was. she needed to say something, just anything.

“um...” she muttered, and some of the student’s jaws dropped from just hearing that.

“she can’t talk!” a voice rung out through the trees, and y/n looked over to see pansy parkinson smirking with malfoy. “yeah, she doesn’t know how to speak!” draco added, him and his friends giggling.

other students began to join in on laughing, and yelling about how quiet she was, even some calling her by her infamous nickname... mute.

y/n looked away, and quickly put the niffler back into hagrid’s arms. she stormed over to her things, and collected them quickly.

“where are you going?” neville whispered over to her, trying his best to make her stay. “these people don’t matter, y/n. just stay.”

she looked up at him, and his heart shattered from what he saw. tears filled her eyes, and her lip quivered. she threw her bag over her shoulder, grabbed her textbook, and ran away from the large group of students.

the students laughed at her as she did so, and more vile things about her left the mouths of draco and his friends.

“aye!” hagrid yelled, and the students fell silent. “ten house points takin away from all of ya’s’! we never treat our fellow students like that!”

the students groaned and attempted to protest, but hagrid simply wasn’t having any of it.

“class dismissed! and i’ll be sure’ to let all ye’s heads know bout’ the way yer’ all acted today!”

as students collected their things and left in small groups, chatter of y/n escaped their lips, and not in a very kind way, either.

“ten house points from all of us?! this has got to be some kind of sick joke!” seamus complained, “we didn’t even say anything about the girl!”

neville scoffed and rolled his eyes, “but, you laughed. that’s the issue.”

seamus furrowed his eyebrows, “don’t tell me you’re angry at me because i laughed? if something is funny, i laugh! i’m allowed to laugh, longbottom!”

neville didn’t have time to argue with seamus, he needed to go and find y/n. just to make sure she was alright.

—

tears fell quickly from her face, hitting the book pages as she tried to read. she sniffled, trying to get them to go away.

after her embarrassment, y/n had escaped to the library. where she was sure she would be safe, but was proven wrong when students from that same class found her, and began to harass her, and threaten her due to the fact everyone had lost points for their house.

y/n sat alone, like always. crying to herself, wondering what was wrong with her. why couldn’t she just speak? why couldn’t she be like everyone else and have a normal conversation with others? what was she so weird?

as her thoughts took over her, she didn’t notice neville longbottom approaching the same table they both shared. he frowned when he heard the small cries leave her lips,

“y/n?”

the soft voice made y/n look up, and she quickly wiped her tears away. he pulled out the same chair he had been sitting in for the past two weeks, and sat down slowly.

“are you alright? i’ve been looking for you for the past hour,” he stated, a flash of worry showing in his eyes. “i should’ve known that you’d be here. but, you know me... i forget almost everything.”

as neville made his way to the library, he thought about every way possible to get y/n to speak. and the constant rambling and questions obviously weren’t working, so maybe, instead of forcing to her to speak, maybe he could try to relate to her. make her feel comfortable and safe enough to talk around him.

“you know... malfoy has always given me a hard time, too. him and all of his friends. they’re really mean.” he informed her, still looking into her eyes. “but, one day, i finally stood up for myself. and, they haven’t necessarily... left me alone or anything, but they’re a bit less cruel, you know?”

y/n simply just stared at him blankly, having only a small hint at what he was talking about. “he used to throw toast at me during breakfast. it was immature, but... it still hurt me feelings.”

y/n didn’t know that malfoy treated her the same way he had always treated neville. she felt bad for him, as she knew exactly how it felt to be a victim of malfoy’s torture.

“but, when i stood up to him... merlin, i’ll never forget it. i felt like i could... spit fire or something! it was honestly one of the greatest feelings that i’ve ever had! i felt unstoppable!”

neville was waving his hands, going on this small tangent about when he stood up to malfoy. y/n admired his courage, and the way he talked to excitedly about it.

“all i’m saying is... is that maybe, one day, you should stick up for yourself. i would do it for you... but i don’t think that it would make it any better for you or for me. so... just maybe—“

he was cut off by how quickly she was shaking her head,

“you don’t have to do it today, or tomorrow, or even next week! just, at some point, you know? i promise you’ll feel better if you do it!”

but, she shook her head once more. neville sighed, already feeling defeated.

there was a few moments of silence before neville spoke up once more:

“why don’t you speak, y/n?”

y/n frowned, the question that she hated the most being asked.

“doesn’t anyone ever ask you why? or, you know... try to get to know you at least?”

she shook her head sadly, and her eyes wandered back onto the page of her book,

“well... i really like hanging out with you. and, i want to know all of your interests and stuff. you seem really cool, and... i want to get to know you better.”

y/n thought for a moment, her instincts taking over her. normally when someone said things like this, she would rush out of the room, not even giving them a chance to say further more. but, neville was different. he didn’t seem to have any bad intentions, he just seemed... intrigued.

“why?”

neville thought for a moment that his ears were deceiving him, but when he looked over at y/n once more, he figured out that she was waiting for a response.

it took him a moment to collect his thoughts before he answered, “uh, well... i know how it feels to be the quiet kid. and, most of the time... i’m alone. i just don’t like seeing—others alone, i suppose. it hurts me.”

y/n looked up at him, “but... you have friends.”

neville felt giddy on the inside. finally, he had got her to say more that one single word. even though it wasn’t under the best circumstances, neville was proud of her.

“well, yeah. but... they have friends as well. and, we don’t really share the same interests. in fact, my friends laugh when i talk about herbology. they’re great and all, but... i don’t know. i just wish i had someone to talk to about things like that.”

there was a few more beats of silence, and neville really hoped that he hadn’t said something that made her shut down again.

“um...” she started, “i—i like herbology.”

the small sadness that had taken over neville instantly faded, and he smiled at the girl’s words.

“really?”

she smiled at him, her problems seemingly leaving her body. she nodded her head, “and... care for magical creatures.”

neville could practically feel his heart about to burst from his chest.

“that’s... nice. i’ve never been much into it, but, i would love to know more about it.”

to everyone else in hogwarts, y/n was known as mute. she never spoke, and when she did, it was only a single word. but neville, he saw so much more than that. he saw a girl with a great personality, a beautiful mind.

and, he couldn’t wait to get to know her.

[yoshkeii]

𝟼𝚝𝚑 𝚆𝚒𝚜𝚑 | 𝟹𝟻𝟶+ 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝

࿐ character: Megumi Fushiguro, Satoru Gojo

࿐ prompt: 14) Injuries 15) Fistfights/Fights

࿐ type: headcanons (hcs)

࿐ requested by: anon for my 350+ event.

⌦ male!reader (he/him)

⌦ sfw, fluffy n caring parts (somewhere), crush hcs

⌦ tw: fights, injuries, mentions of blood

⌦ both prompts are applied to all characters.

⌦ ‘could I request (from the word prompts) 14 and 15 with Gojo and megumi? male reader hcs if its not too much’

A/N: more gojo content? from me? who knew? no one did. BUT- decided to put the reader as a v tough strong boi <3 we need strong y/n’s in this place pls

𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘:

→ as a special grade sorcerer similar to Gojo, he really admired you, obviously of course-

→ only ever hearing about a popular, trusted, and strong special grade. he was interested on meeting you, always asking questions about you to the staff who knew or seen you.

→ this man has no boundaries when it comes to the topic of you, and quickly developed a crush once he laid his eyes on you. finally coming back from abroad of an curse infestation, somewhere- which Gojo didn’t bother remembering, he just... stared at you. 

→ fucking looking handsome and tough, and- he can go on. he will.

→ wearing a similar look to the uniform but instead in a more formal, tight fit look. sleeves rolled up to your elbows showing your forearms and the black gloves with [Favorite Color] on the palms. And of course the signature jujutsu high button w/ its swirled crest as a button below your tie.

→ your built was much bigger compared to him, having more broader shoulders and a body composition that could pack a fucking punch.

→ feeling an odd stare, you catch Gojo staring at you. mouth slightly ajar. 

→ raising an eyebrow you spoked, “should probably close your mouth Satoru.” your husky voice made his heart stop a beat, face flushing slightly.

→ he often called you for ‘help’ when he was in ‘trouble’ with some curses, only just to see you beat the fuck out of the curses in the end. easily exorcising them.

→ your e/c eyes met Gojo’s gaze as you blew off the dust from your gloved knuckles.

→ he really really REALLY, loved seeing your technique at work. surprised that your technique mainly involved blunt force and sometimes manipulation of most objects you touch, it had advantages.

→ but in reality, he just watched your punch your opponents and secretly wishing it was him sometimes.

→ Gojo questioned where or why your technique was like that at one point though. and you simply explained that your family taught boxing or some sort of fighting sport.

→ you even claimed you did underground fighting to gain some money as a teenager.

→ he practically swooned for you more after that. having some... imaginations in his mind of his.

→ this man tries to hide the obvious facts of his crush with snarky teases and retorts at you whenever someone brought it up. like sir... its.. its very obvious.

→ everytime you get badly hurt or injured, you still fight even if the pain is overwhelming. enduring the striking pain to win the battle.

→ Gojo once stumbled upon you at the infirmary while being treated by Shoko, the wounds you had were rather bad. but you sat there like nothing happened with just slight winces and ows.

→ ever since learning that fact, he always make sure to keep an eye on you when you both are out on a mission together. or... together in general.

𝙵𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚘:

→ Fushiguro knew you as the more reckless and clumsy type, and often compared you to Itadori.

→ being both carefree people who just uses hand-to-hand combat as their weapon. he didn’t think much of you. till...

→ you were one of the ones who came to save him from Todou. sending a punch that made gusts of winds, able to knock off a normal person’s balance. but... but that expression on your face he faintly saw, really stuck with him.

→ it was very tensed, serious, and out-right feral. he has never seen you like this. you looked like a beast that could and would kill on command, holding back for a mysterious reason he wish he knew.

→ as you turned to him, crouching infront of his view, the fierce expression your face had earlier quickly softened into the normal y/n he knew. he only just stared at you as you talked to him, which he didn’t pay attention to. only just staring at your face in admiration.

→ Fushiguro realized why your nickname among the 1st years would be ‘Mad-Dog’ or as literally anything fearful. Monster, a beast, a wolf... it goes on.

→ seeing that side of you, awoken what he didn’t think... he had. a fuzzy feeling in his stomach that made his mind wonder about you 24/7, him spacing out fairly often once you were in view, and the slight stutter in his voice gave little clues of his crush on you.

→ denying it a few times as Itadori and Nobara relentlessly teased him about it. he shortly accepted it as he slowly pieced up the clues and signs he gave.

→ flustering up in his room most of the time now.

→ Fushiguro has caught you working out in your own dorm on accident once. hearing slamming noises somewhere, following it, till it lead to your room. knocking on your door, you opened it to stare back him. 

→ “Oh! Hey, Fushiguro.. uh... what brings you here?” you say panting softly.

→ “I heard some noises coming from your room. So I came to check it out..” “What are you doing?”

→ “I’m just working out with my punching bag,” you opened the door a little wider to point at the punching bag in the corner of your room. “it’s a new one since I busted my old one just yesterday.”

→ “..b-busted??”

→ ever since then, he has helped you exercise. holding up gloves as you sent quick jabs. honestly the most intimidating shit he’s done with you. seeing the focused glare made a shiver run up his spine.

→ but often he can’t handle your punches, sometimes tripping onto the floor. which usually ends up with him watching you or lounge in your room.

→ Fushiguro tried not to watch so intently, but he was so mesmerized to see you in action. but the unwelcoming thoughts and details as he watched sweat drip down your face and muscles.

→ you caught him a few times staring while you exercised, resulting in a very flustered Fushiguro as he gazed away quickly with a deepened flush across his cheeks. a chuckle coming from you.

→ at one point you had hit the punching bag so hard it busted (again), you managed to gain few scratches on your knuckles. nonchalantly muttering, “..oh shit, i think i punched to hard-”

→ “what? what happened??” Fushiguro sat up from your bed, before spotting the dripping blood from your hand. “Y/n?! a-are you-?”

→ “Yeah I’m bleedin’ but its not that bad,” you laughed lightly. “mind gettin’ me the first aid on my desk?”

→ and so he did. he was genuinely worried that this wasn’t the first time this happened, but luckily the first time he saw it he convinced you to stop for the day.

→ he’s just worried for ya. if you can be so blunt about a deep wound on your knuckle, he knows for well you are the same for much worse injuries...

[ji-yaaan]

𝓗𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓗𝓸𝓵𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓮~

With: Leona, Sebek, Jade, Floyd, Vil, Kalim

Warning: So I know that what I made is really annoying for others... so I'd like to warn you that at the beginning, you will see me ramble about the character's hands. If you want to skip to the hc, go to where the 🤝 emoji is. ^~^

Note:Also, I’d like to address that I do not know how to make Headcanons for the life of me.... So this is just me making a shameless hc, with my shameless hand addiction, fueling my shamelessness, as I shamefully self insert myself in these things I wrote... Forgive me for my shamelessness.... Also, pardon me for my annoying commentary and emojis. I simply do not know how to control my excitement and my feelings so😔👊

AND YES! I THINK THIS IS A CRACK HC LOL!

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:

-I'd like to break the silence by saying... LEONA'S HANDS ARE BIG AND MUSCULAR! Leona works out in magift so it's a given that he'd have scrumptious big hands😳😳😳

-Leona's hands are chonky😳 he has long fingers that will surely make yours look very small! Also look at Leona's nails! Its ok looking for me, but it's pretty neat so👌👌👌👌

-Leona's got this rough and rugged look, so I think his hands will probably be kinda rough, BUT NOT THE CRUSTY ROUGH! it's more of the manly rough. A firm hold with his loaded wrist😏

Ok curious what will happen if you hold hands? I gotchu fam:🤝

-Imagine if the both of you were napping and you suddenly intertwined you fingers with his. Leona is a sleepy boi, BUT MAN! HE IS AWARE! Lion boi felt ur hands creeping unto his, but he'll pretend he didn't know that😏

-Leona LOVES holding hands! Only at private tho. This cat boy will never admit to that, but keep holding his hands and look at his reaction. He. Won't. Shrug. You. Off.😏😏👊

-Also when you play and fidget with leona's hands when you're doing premarital hand holding which is illegal btw he loves it when he looks at you spaced out fumbling your fingers with his.

-Leona has big hands, so he'll definitely make yours look wayyyyy smaller. AND LION BOI FINDS THIS ADORABLE! DO NOT FORGET THY HOLY WORDS!

-Lion boi is secretly the type to hold your hands when you're sleeping. He plays with your fingers, admiring how cute and small it is.

-Oh wait...Oops...he got caught... LEONA IS CAUGHT RED HANDED?😳 You wake up finding leona playing with your hands? It's either he turns on his back from embarrasment and tells you to sleep, or he squeezes your hands tighter and burries your face in the crook of his neck from embarrassment. He'll play it off as annoyed, but cat got his toungue huh?. Oh wait.... He IS the big cat😏😏😏

Ok enough babbling with leona...

SEBEK ZIGVOLT:

AHAHAHAHAHA YES MY FAVORITE HANDS! Cough, I'm sorry about that

-Sebek has proportional hands. His is more on the medium-big side. But it is perfectly proportional! At least in my eyes...😳

-The back of his hands are smooth and spotless! Very scumptious to look at! Pls look at sebek's hands too!😳😳😳

-Bebek has PRETTY NAILS UGHHH! He most likely trims and takes care of it every week! Not the best nails, BUT VERY NEAT!😳

-Bebek is a highkey fanboy of malleus, so he trains everyday to protecc his God and saviour Malmal. Naturally, he'll have calloused and rough hands... BUT DO NOT FRET MY CHILDREN! It is not that noticable which shookt me. His hands are a bit roughed up, welp can't help it, he's a man with mang jobs after all. (Yes, I call him bebek because sebek is babey🥺)

Curious what will happend if you hold hands with Bebek? I gotchu fam:🤝

-Sebek is a child so he won't really initiate first on holding hands. BUT WHEN YOU DO! OH BOI!😏 

-Sebek has this transparent look to his skin... Almost ghostly per say. BUT WHEN YOU HOLD HIS HANDS... Sebek is not used to this interaction so expect a tomato in front of you... Sebek's face is flushed red reaching down to his neck, and the fun part is, even his hands are blushy blushy😏😏😏😏

-After the first time the both of you held hands. Sebek will crave for it A LOT! Expect him to randomly start akwardly making way to you hands and play with it while the both of you are just chilling. Akward..... Sebek.exe will stop working when you look at him confuse, in which he'll get flustered, and ask if he can hold your hands. ADORKABLE!

-It would take him some time trying to calm himself down, all flushed and red embarrased from asking to hold hands.

-At first, Sebek will firmly hold your hands, stiff and afraid he might break your fingers or something.... Pls tell him to relax and just chill🥺🥺🥺

-When the both of you gets used to hand holding, Bebek is the type to kiss your hands as a gesture of Love....hgnnn hot!😳😳😳

I'm sorry, I'm letting my personal hand bias get the best of me..😳👉👈

JADE LEECH:

-HGNNN JADE HAS SQUISHY HANDS!😳😳

-Jade has big hands folks.... Big hands..... Perfect for unscrewing the cap of the holy water bottle.🤠

-mushroom boi has squishable hands in my eyes and you can never change my mind.

-his skin is probably smooth and sleek too, his palms must be soft but firm😳😳

-Jade has this grip that makes you feel safe for some reason. Maybe because it's big? or maybe because it's soft?

Wanna know what it's like to hold hands with mushroom boi? I gotchu:🤝

-Jade...oh Jade.... He is the first one to hold your hands in a surprise. Like... imagine after school ends, you ran up to him and he swiftly intertwines his firngers with yours..😳😳

-You are flushed from this sudden hand holding. Red cheeks, red neck. JADE FINDS THIS VERY SCRUMPTIOUS! Mushroom boi will try to push you on edge. Holding both of your hands tighter, and fumbling his fingers with yours. You're just standing there starstruck and embarrased by the sudden hold. Jade is enjoying this too much...😏😏😏

-Of course, to add more to the fun, JADE IS THE TYPE TO KISS THE BACK OF YOUR HANDS TO TEASE YOU!😳

-if you try to pull away from embarrassment...oh no.... You're just begging for Jade to tease you more huh? He'll hold you tighter and maybe even hug you.

-What if you try to hold his hands first? Oh my... Prepare yourself....if you try to hold his hands, he'll just smile like normal, but as time passes by and both of you are pretty relaxed now...that won't do.... He'd pull your hand he's holding and rest his cheeks at the back of your hand, he'd stare straight at you and tell you how much he loves you....😳😳😳

-goodluck on dealing with embarassment Jade stans (oho i know you love it)

FLOYD LEECH:

-ANOTHER EEL BOI COMING RIGHT UP!

-Floyd is whooping 191cm, it's common sense he has very big hands. Perfect for flipping the pages of the holy bible.😏😏😏

-This man child has some big rough hands! Expect your hands to look very small beside his!

- Also I want to tell you about Floyd's knuckles......I think I found my new religion now... Check out Floyd's knuckles!!😳😳😳👌

- Floyds's wrist is big too....mhmmm scrumptious eel martini😳👌

Do you want to know what it feels like to do premarital hand holding with this hot eel? ME TOO! Illegal hand holding time!🤝

-"Your hands are tiny koebi chan~" Floyd is the first one to randomly hold ur hands.😳

-If Floyd gets bored, he'd try to find interesting things to do to kill of the boredom. HMMM?! Do you see that? Koebi chan's hands! Eel boi will casually start playing with your fingers, squishing your palms as you sit there confused and embarrassed.

-He'll eventually intertwine his fingers with yours, as he points to it with his other hands and say "How cute~ koebi chan's hands are tiny!" Grinning widely with his teeth showing. Practically speaking, you are just putty in this eel boi's hands now. You are a blushing mess.😏😏 FLOYD HOW CAN ONE BE CUTE AND HOT AT THE SAME TIME?

-Eventually, floyd will start to crave having your fingers to hold on to! When you're randomly walking down the halls, don't be surprised if a random eel surprises you by linking your fingers together.🥺🥺

-Whenever eel boi sees you, he'd grab your hands automatically. He loves holding your teeny tiny hands with his big ones.😳

-When you avert your attention to something else, he made this habit of squeezing your hands a bit and looking at you with a pouty face. UGHHH MY HEART HURTS THINKING ABOUT IT-

-Whenever he gets jealous, he grabs unto your hands quite tightly, even if the both of you are out in public. Let's say a random dude keeps on talking to you. He'll grab your hands that’s still intertwined with his, and he'll bring it very very VERY CLOSE to his face.😳😳😳 Then he'd look at you straight in the eye as he bites unto your palms. He'd whisper "You're mine right? Koebi-chan~"😳😳😳

I'm getting too much into floyd, this is starting to become a fanfic🤦

VIL SCHOENHEIT:

-MY CRUSTY VILL~🥺🥺🥺

-Ok vil's hands aren't crusty ok? He may be crusty, but not his hands!!!

-My man vil drowns in hand creams, so expect his hands to feel like clouds. It's soft, smooth and most importantly SQUISHYYY!😳😳😳

-Looking at vil's hands is not that exciting ngl... BUT HIS LAB COAT ONE IS👌 very beautiful👌very scrumptious👌

-Vil has proportional and perfect hands. Fingers are in the medium side, so as his hand size. Very perfect indeed.

-His hands might look frail and feminine at first, BUT MAN! You are so wrong! From a gentle hold, it can escalate to a very strong hot grip in seconds.😳

-The back of his hands looks smooth tbvh. And his nails are ok. BUT HE PROBABLY PUTS A LOT OF EFFORT IN MAKING HIS HANDS PERFECT! SO KUDOS TO MY CRUSTY VIL!🥺

Let's hold Vil's hands illegally ok? Don't tell the cops shhhhh! Hand holding time:🤝

-It would start off as a normal vibing session. The both of you are probably having tea, studying, or mainly just chilling in the lounge.

-But suddenly... Vil takes notice of your hands...Hold your wigs kids.... he'd ask you if you've been taking care of your hands, in which you answer "no" shamefully.

-But Vil will then smile at you and tell you you should take care of your hands and use hand creams to prevent them from going rough! He'll lecture you about how you should take care of yourself so the both of you can be perfect and beautiful together.

-Suddenly vil whips out a handcream from his bag, and he'll ask you for your hands.

-As embarrasing as it sounds. The most beautiful man in twisted wonderland is putting handcream on you.😳😳😳

-Vil would definitely massage your small fingers and compliment how pretty your hands are. He'd tell you how cute your nail are and how soft your palms are. Thats it. You're a blushing mess right now!!😳😳

-You'd try to look away from embarrasment, but when vil sees this... Oh boy... He'd pout, and as he's massaging your hands. He'd intertwine your fingers with his, to make you look at his direction again.

-Vil would definitely kiss your fingers and say "You're beautiful, my love."

VIL I LOVE YOU! ok thats all for that, I'm dying rn.

KALIM AL-ASIM:

-Kalim you adorkable sunshine boi😳😳😳

- Kalim has smol hands, BUT NOT TOO SMALL! I'd say, it's probably perfect for you to hold hands with.😏😏😏

-His nails are also small, I think? But it's cute, and turns out i'm a sucker for cuties.🥺

-His lab card is scrumptious.... Both the hands and the food he is cooking...😳😳😳 I hope i'm not the only one who thinks that.....

-ALSO HE HAS A LOT OF ACCESSORIES IN HIS HANDS WHICH I'M WEAK FOR! omg his bracelets and bangles are making me feel hot and bothered.😳😳😳

-Anyways, kalim is sunshine so expect his hands to be warm and full of infectious positivity.🥺

Wanna have a chance to hold kalim's hands? Ur in for a ride fam!🤝

-At first, you's simply be invited for a flying carpet ride by ya sunshine boi, kalim. Pretty simple huh? Nahhhhh! 

-Of course, in order to get to the carpet where kalim is, sunshine boi needs to lift you up in the air.

-Kalim will offer his hands whilst riding on the carpet. Hggnnn such a cliche scene from a movie🥺👌

-But the thing is...... Even if you're already in the magic carpet, sunshine boi will forget he was holding your hands...😏

-He'll keep on telling fun stories and talking to you while both of you are high up in the clouds. Oops.... You noticed you're holding kalim's hands... You went red and flushed from embarrasment. Your hands begin to get sweaty as you stare at the both of yours and kalim's hands together...

-Expect your sunshine boi to take notice of this and ask you what's wrong... You'd point at his hands embarrasingly as you look away in the other direction.

-To your surprise, when you look at kalim again. Kalim is beet red too! A BEET RED KALIM IS RARE! DO NOT FORGET THIS MOMENT GAMERS!🥺🥺🥺

-He'd ask you if it's ok to hold onto your hands maybe just a little bit more???? It's not a sin to ask for more right?😏

-Kalim lets go of your hands for a moment. BUT DONT WORRY! he'll just try to properly hold your hands this time! He'll intertwine his fingers with yours, and maybe lightly squeeze it too.😳

-After this brief akward moment, Kalim goes back to his sunshine tendencies. Smiling brightly like the sun he is🥺🥺🥺

-When your night ride is over PLS DONT LET GO OF KALIM'S HANDS YET! he'll be a bit sad if you do😔👊

-But when the both of you lands on the ground...Kalim would grab the both your hands, and put them both on his cheek.He'd intertwine his fingers with yours from the back of your hands and the both of you probably just wants to melt then and there.

-He'll tell you "please dont go yet!" KALIM UR SO ADORABLE! PLS HUG KALIM!🥺👊

The End ^~^

I just babbled about my hand worshipping tendencies all throughout this headcanon... I'm sorry about that pls. stone me gently for I have sinned....

Tags: @muraenxdae You're the one who suggested this, take responsibility.... @cursedtwst let's lick their hands together ok? @edgymcmytrash u said u wanna be tagged? SUFFER! @nightingale-oath let's be shameless together ok?😳👉👈

[gojology]

Clubs Aren’t My Thing. (1/2)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉��𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | i’m REPOSTING this because my already bruised ego absolutely rejects the fact that my writing got 33 notes, that, and i just don’t want to continue this if it doesn’t get any traction. i’m not good at nsfw, so i feel like if not a lotta people wanna read my work, why try hard on something i’m bad at? anyways, this whole club concept is totally from @/mystic-sky or skyfelt on ao3. pls check her out. if anything is inaccurate its prob bcuz the only reference i have is the club penguin dance club teehee. 

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | mentions of sex, drinking, you’re literally at a club.

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo x Female Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2847

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | You’re alone, at a bar, waiting for the end of the night to come. Then again this was bound to happen, as clubs weren’t really your thing, but promises of snacks and money from your friends were really what you came for. A mysterious, yet intriguing white haired man approaches you, and eventually he piques your interest. Little do you know, you had piqued his as well, and he’s having a hard time trying to hide it.

Bright, flickering vivid lights was all the human eye could see from where you were sitting.  You’re sitting at a bar, legs restless and rhythmically bumping against the table. You had come here for a “fun night”, even though they promptly ditched you for the lively dance floor afterwards, you assumed to pick up guys and have some encounters in the bedroom.  It wasn’t quite your thing though, well, you didn’t know yourself, you were far too shy to find out, though.  That’s how you found yourself alone, at a bar, completely sober.   Your friends pushed you, (which was a bit weird since they were no where near you now- so really now, what was the point?) luring you with yummy snacks and treats to come out of your house for once. Hesitantly agreeing, you didn’t expect to have them dress you up as well.   Fighting them off and running for the bedroom door, you hated the very idea of even interacting with anyone. Moaning and groaning like a child that you weren’t getting enough for going to a social event, and not wearing your beloved baggy hoodies and sweatpants.   “Okay, okay!” your friend stood up, hands above her. Shaking her head and letting out an exasperated sigh.   “We’ll add on a free dinner- on us.”   Raising an eyebrow, you scrolled through your phone. This wasn’t a bad deal, not at all. You decided to not reply, though.   “Ugh, (Y/N), Okay. A 50 DOLLAR GIFTCARD TO YOUR FAVORITE STORE. Do we have a deal?” Your friend blurted out, sitting down on her chair with a huff.   The girl clearly wanted you to go to the club.  You grinned evilly, realizing just how much you can get.   Of course, you wouldn’t spend the money without spoiling some of your girlies, but you had gotten even more then you asked for, and well- sure it was a bit mean, but you figured afterwards you could go out with them without the bargaining.   And so, facepalm after facepalm ensued, offering you more and more unnecessary amounts of money and food, you finally broke under the pressure of being a tad too mean. You weren’t planning on torturing your friends for life.   At that point, who could really resist?   Now, enthusiastic with your eyes only on the prize, you allowed yourself to be dressed up just this once. Your friends had whipped up the nicest outfit they could without it showing very much skin (per your request!).   Your friends had let you borrow a rather short white plaid skirt they had paired with a casual simple t-shirt. Slightly sheer, and a warm, yet soft cardigan that was kind of scratchy. Donning a pair of tights that you had picked yourself and your favorite pair of beaten up Doc Martens. You realize that it didn’t look half-bad on you.  For once, you thought you looked nice.   However, it seemed to pale in comparison with the scandalous outfits your friends seemed to prefer. Dresses hugging their curves, showing as much of their skin as possible without being full-blown naked, you wonder how one can hold so much self-confidence. But you ignore the feeling, repeating to yourself that you looked good in your own ways.  You wave for the bar tender, feeling a rush of self confidence as you glance down at your outfit. The rather disgruntled man eyes perked up at the request, rushing over.  “May I offer you something, ma’am?”  You gulp, the self confidence rapidly crashing back down, almost as soon as it had come up. You weren’t quite the drinker, and you weren’t looking to find if you were. Running a hand through your already tousled hair, you stutter out a short sentence.  “Can I have some.. Water? With, uh, ice.”  He nods, seemingly shocked that you weren’t ordering any alcoholic beverages before turning his back on you and quickly whipping up the rather simplistic drink. Well, then again, judging by the outfit, one glance would be enough to tell him that you were forced to come, or shy.    Shocked by how comprehensible you had been when speaking to him, your lips curve slightly into a warm smile. Working around your fear of talking to people in unusual places was good.   Handing the glass of water to you with cold fingertips, you nod back. Skimming his hand as you did so. You grimace, contact felt weird.   Taking a sip, you looked away and hoped not to make conversation.  You heard a rather loud laugh, which was an understatement, because you could hear it even through the mass of chatter and movement of the club.  Curious by who could possibly be louder than the sheer deafening cheers of a drunken crowd, you look towards the other direction, before setting your eyes on a ridiculously white haired man.  He was laughing again now, and your eyes immediately drift over to his very defined jawline. No wonder so many girls were around him, by the looks of it, he looked like a famous model.  His head high above all the females crowding around him, you notice the man next to him. A disgruntled, yet polite looking individual you assumed to be his friend sat next to him.   He was also towering over the women, nodding and smiling at the many girls tempting him with their bodies, but he seemed so clueless that you doubted he even had a clue of what was going on.   Fidgeting and playing with his hair, he was clad in an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. The crowd of women around him wasn’t as large as the white haired man, you noted, but still large nonetheless.  “Oh, him?” the bartender blurted, you turn to face him again, cursing yourself for being so obvious in your endeavors.  Wiping a cocktail shaker down with a towel, he ducks his head, studying the remaining water droplets. You stare daggers at the bartender for interrupting your train of thought, before cursing yourself for being so mean.  “He’s a regular, gets drunk quite frequently, and he’s Prince Charming to the ladies.”  Rubbing the back of your head, you stare back at the bartender. Unsure what to make of his approach on conversation.  Reconsidering like the good person you are, you thought about how annoyed the guy got talking to a bunch of drunk college kids. He seemed like he had good intentions, and talking to someone that was sober was sure to be refreshing.  “Yeah, I can tell, the guy has a lot of girls around him. He looks really... Lively. To put it simply.”  The bartender laughed, relaxing himself as soon as he heard the friendly words leave your lips. He finished wiping down the cocktail shaker and proceeded to the neatly stacked cups which had just been washed.  “No, the guy’s just friendly. Real hit with the ladies, especially his.. Uh, physical attributes. See his friend over there? Lil bit more modest, he started coming here recently. Don’t let that good natured face fool you though, they’re both the same..”  You rolled your eyes, Typical. Taking the last few gulps of your water before you slammed it back down. The bartender took the cup, refilling it hastily and giving it back to you.  You heard several girls giggling, and you glanced back in the direction of the men. The long, raven haired man had his arms wrapped around dozen or more girls, swarming him as if he was a celebrity.  The bartender was right, he looked so bored when you had studied the two, but here he was now with the same army of girls heeding his every call.  That left the white haired man alone.  Shaking his head with a small chortle, he took another swig out of his drink before looking down at the empty glass, he stood up, and by God were those legs long, before walking to the empty stool next to you.  “Yo. Bartender. Refill?”  The bartender set down the cup he was scrubbing down, rummaging his hands through various shelfs, filled with various drinks and add-ons, before taking the mysterious man’s glass.  Curious, you take a small peek at the man, almost jumping back when he was staring unflinching at you, too. Taking this as an invitation to gape at such an incredibly well-fit body. Your eyes stare up at what you could; starting with his collarbones.  Paired deliciously with a simple gold chain, you had to admit, it was a good touch. The simplicity of the chain was enough for you to gape dumbly at anything else that was interesting, and was left dumbfounded by the sheer hotness of... Well, him, and those incredibly prominent collarbones.  You look downwards, and he’s wearing a black, simple t-shirt. Not a wrinkle, nor specks of lint in sight.  Well toned arms, and incredibly strong looking ones at that rested idly against his sides. An expensive watch glinted in the light.  He hadn’t quite said anything yet, so you look down even more without hesitation. Almost like you couldn’t control yourself.   Tucking his shirt in neatly was his belt, you could easily tell it was a high-end brand. Casual, wide flared black jeans, the guy really loved black you noted. The accessories made up for it though, various chains were lazily thrown in, and it made the outfit so much more hotter, especially on him.  “My eyes are up here, girly.”  Feeling your cheeks become full to the brim with warmth, your hands fumble about, words formulating at the tip of your tongue to apologize profusely, you look up.  Circular black shades concealed the white haired man’s eyes, and your heart pounds more. Something about him was so intriguing.  About to blurt out nonsense about actually being very interested at a wall, he held his palm up, a large toothy grin gracing his features.  “It’s okay, I’m into hot chicks ogling me. Especially hot chicks with cute outfits.”  Everything on your mind was suddenly wiped clean, you open your mouth before closing, unsure about what to say.  He thought you were hot?   He thought your outfit was cute?  He laughs, and you snap out of your daze. Muttering a quick thanks when the bartender handed his rather sugary exotic drink to him.  “Saw you looking at me earlier, sweetcheeks.” he hums before tipping the glassware near his glossy lips, sipping the drink, looking down at you as he did.  “No, I think you saw wrong... Are you blind?” you asked, still recovering from the compliments you hadn’t ever received in your life prior to this strange encounter. Desperate to get out of the advancingly awkward conversation, you had never been placed in such a weird setting.  He snorts, taking another deep sip of his drink.  “Nah. People think that, though. People think I’m... Old, for some reason?”  “Hm, I wonder why.” replying sarcastically, you felt yourself jolt up, a mix of uneasiness and excitement bubbling up inside of you. By your experience and tips from your friends, these type of guys seemed to like sassy, teasing girls.  Whipping out your phone from your bag, you try to appear casual, even though your excitement was starting to die down by his silence, turning into dread.  Whistling, trying to look like you didn’t have a care in the world, you physically wince as you realize how stupid you potentially look. Wondering what your friends would say about such an attractive guy seemingly hitting on you, then again, they didn’t seem to really care.  No new notifications, and no familiar faces running up to you with open, friendly arms.  He chuckles again. “I like your style, missy. You come here alone? That’s a shame, pretty girls like you deserve to have someone to come with.”  You look down, struggling to contain the growing smile. Doing a small little victory dance in your head as you realize that he had literally stated that he liked your style.   “I did come with someone, my friends.”  “Where’s your friends?” he inquired.  “Partying at the dance floor, flirting with guys probably.” you nonchalantly reply, struggling to hold your tone, but even then it wavered. You didn’t get hit on often, and when you did they were there to help you.  “That makes two of us, my friend Geto pulled all my chicks, and my pussy for tonight.”  He said it so nonchalantly, you almost spat out your water.  “What are you here for? Some good dick?” he shifted his arm to rest against the table, his hand against his head, lazily looking at you.  You study his figure once more, ignoring his previous question. He looked like he came straight out of a magazine, or a movie. Broad, yet strong looking shoulders.  He looked straight up fake.  He towered over you, and you estimated that he was over 6 foot. His hair seemed soft, and manageable, and so, so fun to play with. A Deep, yet playful voice that would probably make everyone within a 6 mile radius instantly melt.  “Hm, cute. I like straight-forward girls.” he poked fun at you, grinning carelessly.  “I’m not being straightforward in any shape or form, what do you mean?” you flutter your eyelashes innocently at him, knowing damn well what he meant.  “You’re fucking studying me like a textbook before finals.”  “You still haven’t told me your name!” you shot back without thinking, you didn’t want to be caught doing something so scandalous. He winked, you took this as a sign of him following suit.  “That’s what makes it fun, baby.”  “Here, lets trade.”   You had decided that you really liked his style, after letting you off the hook so easily like that. He was shrouded in a cloak of mystery, and you found it hot. That, or maybe he wanted to just fuck around and have one night-stands, which wasn’t your style at all, but you still wanted to see where this would go.  “Tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine. Fair right?”  He stroked his chin with his unoccupied arm, contorting his face and making you giggle a little, even though it wasn’t very funny. With him, you felt like you could strangely be yourself.  “Hmmmmm....” stroking his chin more, he began to pick up and sip his beverage as if it was a tea cup, holding opposite ends of each other and deeply drinking. He set the cup down.  “Nope.”  Exasperated, you slam your cup down.  “That aside, let’s get back to the point!,” he leaned closer into you, smiling a little as you jumped back. Your confidence when you talked with him had dissolved into thin air.  “You’re really cute.”  Frozen in place, you gawk back at him.    He was straightforward, no doubt it, but you didn’t think he was this straightforward. Most men you knew played a game of cat and mouse, only if you caught them you were rewarded.  Opening and closing your mouth, no sound came out. He snorts, taking another sip and waving the bartender to come back, who was now washing cups awkwardly on the other side of the bar.   You almost pitied the bartender, the guy had ordered so many refills at this point, you wouldn’t be dumb to assume he was either a raging alcoholic or another dumb college kid.  “Refill, again.”   The bartender nodded solemnly in reply, swiftly taking the cup. You realize how overworked the poor guy was, wondering how many refills the mysterious white haired man had gotten before you had even step foot in the vicinity.  “I’d love to take you to the bedroom, baby.” he nods as the bartender returns, sipping and looking back down at you.   You bolted upwards, cursing as you realize you’re slouching, not very attractive. The straightforwardness from him was, though. No doubt it, but you were really not looking to break your heart over a fuckboy.  “Uh, um.”  He tips your chin upward, and your heart leaps out of your throat. There was something so undeniably attractive about this act, maybe it was the way he knew how to make you into pudding, or maybe it was the aura of dominance.   Haughtiness literally radiated off of him, as if he knew he could pull a girl in under 1 minute. Well, then again, he probably did know.  Fuck, what were you thinking, this was a complete stranger that could probably pull chicks more attractive then you, times 100.  “Aw, shy? Cute. Don’t worry, you’re intriguing, and if you’re bad at sex, not to worry. I’ll do it all, and I’m good. Maybe give you a few lessons here and there.” he chirped, tilting his head, curiosity evident.   “But, it’s all up to you, sugar. I’m not trying to force you into this.” the man added.   He did seem hot, and this was really a one-in-a-million chance. No one had really looked at you that way at the level of attractiveness that he had. You didn’t want to regret anything, and getting out of your shell was good right?   What could go wrong?   “...I wouldn’t mind.”   A crooked smirk spread across his face.   “I’ll call an Uber.”