He should be thinking about his history course work due in
two days or his match on Saturday. He should be thinking about the prefect
timetable he has yet to organise and he definitely should be thinking about the
niggling pain in the back of his knee and if he should mention it to his coach.
What he categorically shouldn’t be thinking about is the pretty redhead at his
bus stop and how he wants to kiss the colour out of her lips and hold it in his
She’s wearing those bloody jeans again, the same as the week
before, that hug her legs and around her waist (and other areas James
definitely isn’t looking at). The streetlamps have already clicked on, her skin
is woven gold under the amber light.
He can’t look away, won’t look away as she wanders up and
down the bus stop, her fingers tapping at her phone screen and her mouth
lifting into a lazy smile as she reads a text. Thunderous grey clouds hang
heavy in the sky and he wonders if he is going mad, standing in the cold about
to be soaked when with one call he could have a car pick him up with
complimentary tea and biscuits.
The girl smiles again and he knows he’s going mad because
his heart is pumping in his throat and flowers are growing through his ribs.
His phones rings and he lifts it to his ear, noticing there is still a smear of
blood across his bruised knuckles.
“We need your help,” Sirius tells him. James can hear what
he thinks is Pete trying to move a bed. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the bus stop,
I need to nip to the flat to grab something.” James tells him, craning his neck
to see if the bus is coming. The girl glances at him, pulling her bottom lip through
her teeth. James flashes her a grin and blood burns up the neck he so
desperately wants to press his lips against.
“I thought that’s what you were doing last week?” Sirius
“Yeah, I just need something else.” James winces at the
silence that follows. There’s another crash and Pete is violently swearing.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that redhead who was
on the bus last week, would it?”
James can’t stop his eyes flickering to where she stands,
leaning against a lamppost, her silhouette cut from the shadows. “Err-
potentially- anyway why did you need me?”
“We’re trying to find
Moony’s philosophy notes, he’s hidden them.”
He runs his hand through his hair, it needs a wash to get
rid of the remnants of mud. “Obviously, last time you used them you spilt gin
all over them.”
“That wasn’t my fau- oh you utter bastard you know where
they are don’t you?”
James laughs and leans against the crumbling brick wall
behind him. “Look, Pads, I’ve got to go, I’ll see you tonight.”
There’s more crashing and what sounds like ‘James you
fucker’ before James can press end call. The girl is staring at him, the corner
of her mouth twitching. He pockets his phone with a sheepish grin at her. He’s
about to ask her something, anything. Words are climbing up his throat and
dancing across his tongue, a ballet of letters held between his teeth.
Then the sky opens.
The rain isn’t particularly heavy but it’s the sort that
seeps under the skin and lingers in the blood, James’s hair is already damp by
the time he gets his hood up. The girl is shivering, her thin jumper soaked
through. James’s legs start moving before his brain does, his hands unzipping
his rugby bag and fishing out his school hoodie. The girl looks confused, James
must too because he’s not really sure what he’s doing.
“Here, it’ll stop you freezing to death.” He says, offering
it to her. She reaches for it, uncertainty spilling out of her eyes. “I’m
James, by the way.”
“You’re not a serial killer, are you?” she asks once she’s
tugged it over her head. He almost misses the question, thinking too much about
how she would look in nothing but his rugby shirt.
She’s staring at him expectantly, her brow crinkled ever so
“Only on Thursdays, you should be safe.”
She laughs, sunlight falling from her lips, her fingers
tucking strands of copper hair under the hood. “I’m Lily,” she says. Lily. He nods, it settles in his stomach
like it’s always been there, Lily. The
rain keeps up it’s symphony on the pavement.
“So how posh are you, on a scale of Eddie Redmayne to Prince
William?” she asks. Her eyes are alight, her voice bubbling like cheap champagne.
He thinks he might be already drunk.
He raises an eyebrow, pretends to look offended, drinks in
the light that’s pouring out of her. “Me, posh? Never.” Her phone beeps but her
hands stay tucked in the pockets of his hoodie, he lets a drop of warmth creep
into his bones.
“Seriously though, I hear your school fees are insane.”
He glances at the crest stitched into his jacket, into the
hoodie, into his skin. Red and gold and laughter and adrenaline and home. “I’m
not that posh. Sirius, he’s a lord, but I’m nothing special.”
He knows the weight the name carries, knows the looks in the
street, the eyes noting the tie and blazer, the polished shoes and tailored
trousers. He knows what they think of, arrogance smirks and burnt fifty pound
notes, wrecked cars and opportunities thrown about like paper in a classroom.
They’re not all like that, he’s not
“A lord, huh?” she says, “Can you get me his number?”
A/N this has been linked to tumblr before and then deleted. It’s such good fun though and it’s in need of an edit (cos it was like the third multi fic I ever wrote) so I’m reposting it!
Reid x reader
“Guys I’m out. Going without sex or orgasms for this long is not worth a grand or the bragging rights in my opinion,” Emily handed her two hundred dollars to Derek with a defeated look on her face. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a very handsome fella over there that just offered to buy me a drink. I’m fairly certain he’s gonna be taking me home tonight.” She downed her drink before sauntering across the dance floor to where a dusky haired male had been sat intently watching her for the last hour.
“So it’s just Y/N and Pretty Boy left,” Derek grinned at the pair of you, adding the money to the envelope already containing his own and Garcia’s buy outs.
“You just wanna give in now Y/N?” Spencer looked over at you, a smirk on his face.
“Nope. I’ve got this. I can beat you. I will prove that guys need sexual intimacy more than girls.”
“Oh Y/N come on. We knew it was a long shot any of us beating Reid, but if it was gonna be any of us then it was going to be Prentiss just because of her sheer determination. Just give in now, I saw you eyeing up that bartender.” Morgan raised his eyes at you, glancing over to where the hot bartender was leant over restocking the chillers. Oh my, he had a nice ass. You could definitely sink your teeth into that. You’d bet he had something nice he could sink into you as well.
Reid shifted in his chair, following your glance and leaning into you whispering, “Do it, do it, do it.“
You punched him on the arm, glaring at him.
“You’re not helping Spencer.”
“I’m not meant to be helping, I’m trying to win here. Plus, which one of you was it that paid that escort to come on to me when we first started this little bet?”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” you averted your gaze to the ceiling.
What? It had been the only way you’d initially thought any of you could beat Reid.
Now it’s not like you were suggesting that the only way he could get laid was with a hooker. In fact when this whole thing had started you’d been as surprised as the rest of the team when Spencer had wanted in, you’d all kinda assumed he was a virgin, shocked when he’d revealed that actually his numbers were not that far below your own.
You’d just thought that if you could crack him first, then the rest of them would be easy pickings. So you may have contacted a local escort agency. May have suggested she come on to your friend and colleague and just pretend she’d noticed him across the room. May have offered to pick up the tab for whatever else happened afterwards.
Yet Spencer had recognised her as someone the team had questioned in a local case before you’d joined the team.
This had all started three months ago when Garcia had shown you all that ridiculous story of the 27 year old sex addict who gone along to a group therapy meeting, only for it to end up turning into an orgy.
You’d all laughed finding it hilarious initially until Emily had said, “And let me guess. It’s a man.”
“What makes you assume it would be a guy?” Derek had been offended on behalf of his gender.
“Statistically speaking it is more likely to be a male. Only 12 percent of women have openly admitted to actually being addicted to sexual activities,” the genius of the group had pointed out.
“Yeah but for it to turn into an orgy there had to have been some women in that group right. Other wise wouldn’t it have just been a load of guys beating themselves off together,” Derek stated.
“I agree with that. There had to have been some women there right? But you can bet it was the men that initiated it. Women find it easier to take care of their own needs without guys, whereas men prefer to have their needs taken care off by another person.” Emily’s come back had had you shaking your head, just waiting for Reid’s next comment.
“Actually, that’s not true either. Studies show that men and women have pretty much the same statistical preference when it comes to either engaging in intercourse with another person or masturbating alone. Around 65 percent of both sexes prefer sex with someone else as opposed to doing it alone.”
“And where do you stand on that preference Spencer?” You saw an evil glint in Derek’s eyes, him spotting an opportunity to make Reid feel uncomfortable.
“Depends what mood I’m in. If I’m feeling lazy then I’ll do it myself. If not then, I find someone to assist and to share pleasure with.”
You’d all turned to stare at him then, everyone’s jaws dropping.
“I’m not a virgin you know. Just cos I don’t come into work bragging about who I spent the weekend doing like Morgan or Emily do, doesn’t mean I’m not actually doing it.”
“Nicely said my friend, nicely said,” you held up your hand to him and he high fived it, a slight grin on his face.
“Hey, what about Y/N? She does it too. We all watched her walk of shame the other week,” Morgan looked directly at you and you shrugged.
“I don’t go into explicit detail like you though. And neither does Garcia.”
“Yet you two were happily discussing what new ‘toys’ you’d bought the other week.“
"What’s your point Morgan?” You were failing to see where this conversation was going.
“I just don’t like the assumption that it had to have been a guy, who initiated the orgy. Women are just as into sex as men.”
“Yes we are my handsome chocolate muffin, but I bet we could go longer without it,” Garcia patted Derek’s arm before looking around at the rest of you. You were all sat at around JJ’s desk, minus Rossi and Hotch who were at a lecture off site.
“You’re on then,” Morgan offered his hand out to Penelope who just gawked at it confused.
“Yep. Because I don’t think you could. So we’ll have a wager shall we. Which one of us can go the longest without any sexual activity.”
Penelope thought for a second before declaring, "I’m in. If these guys are.“
And so your little bet was born. You’d all agreed to be 100 percent honest with each other, and although you’d agreed never to profile each other, this was the one and only time you’d all allow it.
The rules were clarified, no sexual activity with another person and no self relief. Kissing would be allowed, but nothing further than that. The stake was set. Two hundred dollars from each of you, the winner taking the pot as well as bragging rights.
“Just to check…… Is this just sex with a member of the opposite sex? Or are we saying that all sex is off the table?” Both Spencer and Derek’s heads quickly turned in your direction, and you spotted a smirk on Emily’s face.
“All sex, regardless of gender….. But when this is over, please feel free to have as much girl on girl action as you like and to fill me in in explicit detail.”
“Haha not a chance Derek, what me and my lady friends get up to, stays between us,” you replied hearing him groan.
Penelope had been the first to cave only four weeks in. She and Kevin had been on a break when the bet was originally made, but now they were back together. She walked into work one sunny morning, an even brighter smile than usual across her face and a floral scarf round her neck despite the rising temperature.
She’d taken one look at us all staring at her quizzically before digging into her purse and pulling out four fifty dollar bills, sheepishly handing them over.
Derek had lasted another five weeks, him becoming increasingly cranky at work. It was hilarious watching him shifting uncomfortably whenever Garcia discussed her previous nights antics with Kevin.
Emily had suggested that you both wear skirts to the office the following day in order to break him, and so you both rocked up in tight fitting A line skirts with long slits up the side, finding every reason possible to have to bend over in front of him.
By the time he’d left for the day you’d both been certain he was going to explode. He sent a group text four hours later, a photo of himself lying next to a hot redhead.
And now three weeks after that Prentiss had declared defeat and from your view across the room it looked very much like she’d be getting her fix within a matter of hours.
You really wanted to win this, but you were also very, very frustrated. Sure you could cheat and go home and browse through a few choice videos on porn hub whilst having a good old intimate chat with your friend Ryan (Reynolds not Gosling, yes you’d named your rabbit. What of it?) but you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide it from the rest of the team the next day. As good a profiler you were, you were a horrendous liar when it came to personal matters.
But now it was down to you and Spencer…….and although the boy wonder had surprised everyone with his confession that he wasn’t a virgin and actually had had an arrangement with a bartender he’d met on a case, he’d already gone eight months without it and didn’t appear to be struggling at all.
Where as you weren’t used to going a few days without at least having a chat with Ryan. Poor old neglected Ryan, gathering dust in the back of your drawer. You’d make it up to him when this was over, maybe even buy him a friend to keep him company.
An idea sprung to mind,“Guys what if this was a draw?"
"What so you both admit defeat now together. That’s no fun. If you do that then it doesn’t prove anything,” Morgan shook his head at you.
“Oh come on, we’re long past making a point now.”
Garcia’s eyes suddenly lit up and she pulled Derek to her, whispering excitedly into his ear, a grin spreading over his face.
“Baby Girl I love it. But they are so not going to go for it.”
Spencer’s eyes narrowed at them, “Go For what exactly.”
“Trust me kid, what she’s suggesting is way out of your comfort zone. No way will you be down for it. Y/N maybe but not you. You just don’t got it in you Kid.”
“Haven’t got what in me?”
You watched the two of them wondering what the hell was running through their sadistic little minds.
“Penelope was suggesting that we change the bet now it’s just you two left…..And instead it becomes a contest to see which one of you can break the other.”
“Break the other? Why would I want to break Y/N? What would I even be breaking, I don’t understand.”
You did, you knew exactly what they were getting at. But you weren’t going to say anything….. Yet.
“Break her newly regrown hymen Reid,” Derek chuckled.
“Hymens don’t regrow, that’s a myth. It doesn’t matter how long a woman goes without sex it doesn’t grow………… Wait what?” he spluttered as his brain finally processed what Derek and Garcia were suggesting.
They fell apart laughing.
But…… It wasn’t actually a bad idea. And it would be seriously fun. You’d formed a friendship outside of work with Reid, but that definitely didn’t stop you thinking he was hot. And watching him getting flustered was the most adorable thing ever. And it would save you having to go out and find someone to fuck when the was all over. You could remain professional at work. It would just be sex after all.
“How would that even work? Like I have to convince Y/N to go to bed with me? Or she convinces me to go with her?” Reid interrupted their laughing and your train of thought and now it was your turn to exclaim.
"Essentially yes,” Morgan clarified when he’d regained his composure.
You and Reid looked at each other, each wondering what the other was thinking.
“Oh guys, it’s no secret that you two like each other. That night we played truth or dare….. You both admitted it and we’ve been waiting patiently for something to happen between you…. But you’re not giving us anything!”
Ugh, you’d drank so much that night it was a wonder your liver had not demanded removal from your body. And you’d been so embarrassed the next day when you recalled some of the questions you’d been made to answer, but also pleasantly surprised at some of the answers Spencer had given. But nothing had ever come of you admitting your mutual attraction to each other.
“So would we actually have to do the deed with each other? Or just get the other to admit that they wanted to? And how would you know which one of us won?”
“Either one is good with us, although of course you actually doing it would be mutually beneficial…. Especially after all this pent up sexual tension. And we’d just have to rely on you being honest with us.”
You took a deep breath turning to your friend. Were you going to regret asking this?
“What do you think Spencer? Think you can wear me down? I’m game if you are.”
They win. Mostly. And unscathed, to boot! Well, that one dude got his wings broken and Draxx got another concussion. But Thanos got shot into the outer rim (Reed Richards is much more dangerous than previously assumed) and nobody died. Peter is more than willing to call that a win.
It’s all good times until Rocket starts asking questions.
“How much room does this ship have? Like hypothetically, could we fit another bedroom and a workshop in here somewhere? Or get another ravager-style ship expander?”
“I am Groot.” Groot adds.
Suffice to say, Peter is a little suspicious. And then a thought strikes.
“That whole, possession is nine-tenths of the law thing… does it apply to people?”
Racoons can look sheepish, who’d’ve thunk— oh wait. They all knew that.
They abduct a billionaire who fits scarily well into their mishmash family, even if he seems to need to change Peter’s music every five seconds and Skype call his scary redhead boss lady and others every week.
Two years later, ordinary civilian™ and future MIT scholarship student Peter Parker is abducted by a glowing ray of alien light mere seconds after being handed his highschool diploma.
They all live happilyever after and cause massive amounts of property damage.
McHanzo Week 2017, Day 2: Canon Divergence || AU - (Stardew Valley).
When Lena Oxton retired from the military due to an injury, she took up her grandfather’s offer to look after the farm. So she headed for the country, found the farm, and met Jesse McCree, the owner and bartender of the High Noon Saloon in town.
In her many forays to town, she noticed the reclusive Hanzo Shimada, who lived on the beach in a cottage, usually spent long evenings in the bar with McCree. There was even several times, on her run down to the beach to catch a squid or any other fish, she saw McCree wandering back to the Saloon, still wearing yesterday’s clothes.
She’s happy they’re happy, and the town is great! Even the weird smoke and shadow monster who lives in sewers, who sells high quality sprinklers, so many shotguns, and gives her tips on how to make artisan goat cheese.
Especially the cute redhead who lives in a cabin in the forest.
Anonymous asked: Can you do one involving Archie getting jealous of the Bughead relationship and Jug being scared Betty will leave him for Archie of course Bughead will pull through! Love your writing btw!
dorky-unicorns asked: Can I request a fic where Jughead and Betty are dating and they have to deal with a jealous Archie like he tells them they can’t be together cause Betty is still in love with him. But Betty is having none of Archies shit and she explains that she loves Jughead and she thinks she’s been in love with him for a very long time but she just got her feelings muddled. And then obviously lots of Fluff from an overly affectionate Jughead please :))
I hope you both like this! Warning: It’s sappy. :P
Archie had thought that the biggest heartbreak he was
going to face at least for his two more years of adolescence to come was one
and only, Ms. Grundy leaving for good and leaving him behind.
He was wrong.
The revelation came a usual Friday night at Pop’s when
Betty and Jughead not only sat next to each other at a booth across him and the
rest of the gang, sharing a chocolate
milkshake – Jughead’s favorite – along with their respective orders, but also held
hands over the table, announcing with stupid, shit-eating matching grins that
they were indeed a couple. Veronica was ecstatic, Kevin was supportive and
Archie…well, Archie was confused.
Summary: Mickey catches Ian and Kash together. He tried to deny his jealousy as he storms off, but Ian finds him and it’s hard to mask.
Word Count: 1001
Notes: I’ve been working like crazy on all the requests so I haven’t gotten to what you requested yet, I will asap!
Though Mickey had been a complete ass to Ian, he was very horny and secretly missed the crazy redhead– emphasis on the ‘secretly.’ Without speaking to Ian for the past week, he hasn’t been fucked by anyone and he’s in dire need of it. With determination, he puts his coat and scarf on and then sets foot for the Kash n Grab.
On his way to the store, he pushed out any thoughts of how excited he was to see Ian– he could careless about him, right? It was a constant battle between his mind and his heart to be convinced that the Gallagher boy did not matter to him. As he neared the Kash n Grab, he did his best to shrug the feeling off and put his head on straight.
When Mickey walked into the Kash n Grab, he looked around and noticed that Ian must’ve already been in the back, which made him smirk— they could get right down to business. He locked the doors, grabbed a Snickers bar from the shelf, and then made his way to the back room.
He pushed the door of the back room open and saw a sight that he never expected— something he did not want to see. Ian was balls fucking deep inside of a thirtyfive year old towel head. Ian and Kash both abruptly turned at the sound of the door being slammed open. Kash looked horrified, but Ian seemed guilty. “Shit,” Ian said quietly
Mickey masked his upset feeling and scoffed. “Motherfucker,” he said and then dropped his Snickers bar on the ground. He immediately stormed out of the store. His heart was pounding in his chest– these were the sole proprietors of the times he really wished he didn’t care.
Taking out a pack of smokes from his coat pocket, he lit one and rushed his way to the abandoned building that he often snuck off to. Hensort of used it as his safe place— a place where he could be free to think or feel whatever he wanted to without anyone interfereing.
After he ran all the way to the top floor of the building, he grabbed the bottle of vodka that he had stashed in the corner of the room, and took a swig of it. He needed to get completely wasted after seeing that.
Little did Mickey know, Ian had followed him there. “Mickey!” He heard come from the bottom of the stairs. “Would you stop fucking moving so fast?” He watched as Ian trudged his way up the steps.
Mickey completely hid the hurt expression on his face by covering it with a scowl. He didn’t know why he felt so offended after seeing Ian with someone else, but he fucking hated it. “The fuck you want, man?” Mickey said.
“I’ve been fucking Kash for months. I tried to get him to back off, but he just came on me,” Ian tried to explain. He was clearly distressed about the whole situation.
“You were the one with your dick in him,” Mickey cockily snorted. “But it don’t fucking matter.” He tried to sound careless, but he had to avoid looking at the redhead in fear that’d he’d see right through his tough exterior.
“Yes, it fucking does–”
“I could careless who you decided to fuck on your free time, asswipe,” Mickey spat. He immediately regretted saying that because he knew that Ian could hear the jealous venom that stung in his voice.
Suddenly a look of annoyance and smugness flashed across Ian’s face. “Well, I mean, it just surprises me you even came by. You don’t give a shit about me, right?” He was trying to mock Mickey.
Mickey rolled his eyes and scoffed. He hated to hear Ian speak like this because no matter how much he tries not to, he does care. Looking down, he tightly shut his eyes. Ian slowly walked forward until Mickey could feel his breath.
“But I don’t think that is right, Mickey. I think you do care,” Ian pushed. Mickey eventually nodded because it was inevitable for him to fully hide something from the redhead. “You do care,” he spoke with a hint of shock. “I’ll completely stop fucking him if you want.”
Mickey rolled his eyes and put his defensive wall back up. “He’s a fucking pedophile. Do what the hell you want, dick breath.” It was an instinct for him to speak like this, and he didn’t know how to stop it.
Ian shrugged. “Fine. If you don’t care, I’ll go back there right now and stick my dick in him rather than you. Never did finish,” he started to turn but Mickey grabbed his arm.
“Don’t. Don’t go back to him–” the Milkovich boy started. He was very opposed to kissing, but a strong wave of lust washed over him and he grabbed the back of Ian’s neck to pull him in for a heated kiss. It definitely took Ian by surprise, but when he realized what was going on he kissed back harder. Before separating, Mickey lightly bit down on Ian’s lip. “Mine,” he said protectively.
Ian nodded and grinned into Mickey’s mouth. He loved seeing the possessive side of Mickey, and this was also the first kiss they ever shared so he he was on cloud nine. “Yours,” Ian crashed their lips together again.
Mickey suddenly pulled back with a smirk. “You said you never got to finish?” Ian shook his head. “Better get on me then,” he turned around and unbuckled his belt.
They fucked hard and quick. All it took was a few moments of hearing Mickey’s moans and how he was telling Ian that he wanted him to fill him up, and he did exactly that. For the first time, they laid there for a while after– just laying in each other’s presence. As Ian looks at Mickey, he understands that is hard for Mickey to express who he truly is, so he’ll take what he can get.
So many AU’s in my head. What if Robb survived the Red Wedding and was present during the battle of the bastards (and how that would have even happened with him around) Maybe I’ll end up writing a little something about that.
You know, I never shipped Jon/Robb until I read a fic where they knew they were cousins, then I was like Ohhh, it works so well. But JonxSam is also so sweet, and JonxGrenn that was a favorite of mine. Well that’s me at 4 am thinking about slash.
PS. Give redheaded Robb or give me death! Also damn he got beefy
Can we get a prompt where chuuya is afraid of thunder but dazai is there comforting him??
This is so fluffy. I have no excuse. Chuuya is literally my cats in thunder. I hope you enjoy!
There was no way to determine when Dazai would drop by his house - he did so at random, dropping by when it was most convenient. It was infuriating for Chuuya, who simply wanted some peace and quiet.
“Chuuya…” Dazai whined, from where he lay on the couch. He was spread out, legs hanging over the side, dangling just over the carpet. He had dispelled his jacket by the door, (Chuuya refused to pick it up. The bastard could do it himself.)
Chuuya propped his hip against the entry to his kitchen, glaring at the man in his house. His head, tipped back and watching the windows, exposed his neck, the sunlight outside shining over his adam’s apple.
“Dazai… why are you here?” He glared at the brunette.
Dazai raised an eyebrow, “I’ve been here every night for dinner, dummy.”
Chuuya frowned. Now that he thought about it, Dazai had been over pretty much every night…
Dazai finally sat up, and shrugged. “You’re a good cook. I almost burnt down my house last week, soo…”
The redhead shook his head, taking in a deep breathe. “So you’re literally just here for the food.”
“Amongst other things.” Dazai grinned, winking at Chuuya. In turn, Chuuya flipped him off, retreating into the kitchen.
About ten minutes after they ate their meal together, (punctuated by Chuuya’s frequent glares and snarky comments) the weather took a turn for the worse.
Chuuya was honestly just trying to read. He had insisted Dazai do the dishes if he was going to mooch off of him, and had made himself comfortable on the couches, book out and the constant lull of sink water in the background.
By the time the clouds had turned dark and gray, Chuuya was lost in his novel, and didn’t notice the rumble of agitation that spread across the city. Instead, he watched Dazai walk out of the kitchen and settle next to him on the couch.
“Whatcha reading?” Dazai asked, poking the brown leather cover.
“A book,” Chuuya rolled his eyes, moving his hands from Dazai’s reach. The brunette smiled, and fell down, laying his head on the redhead’s lap.
“What are you doing?” Chuuya asked, flipping a page.
“Laying in your lap.”
“I can see that but-”
Chuuya jumped as the loud drum rolled through the air, punctuated by the crack is lightning splitting the horizon in two. He tensed, shoulders raised high, and even noticed Dazai tense up.
“Chuuya… are you alright?”
“Mhmm.” Chuuya nodded. Just read your book. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t need to know.
The thunder hit again, causing Chuuya to drop his book, the sound silent against the chaos outside, and clap his hands over his ears. Dazai sat up, looking down at him with soft eyes.
“Are you… scared of the thunder?” His voice carried no lilt of teasing, though Chuuya would have thought it would. Instead, it was soft. Concerned. The most gentle he had been in a very long time.
Chuuya glared up at him. “What do you think?”
Dazai smiled, and wrapped an arm around Chuuya’s back. Chuuya stiffened against the feel of his chest pressing against his shoulder.
The thunder cracked, and Chuuya jumped again.
He scowled at Dazai, who was watching the redhead curl into a smaller and smaller ball.
“Chuuya…” Dazai said, bringing his other arm over Chuuya’s torso, pulling him onto his lap. “Calm down.”
He rubbed his hands up and down Chuuya’s back, burying his nose in the soft hairs settled into the crook of his neck. He hummed softly, massaging the pads of his fingers against his hips, hot breathe rolling over his cheeks.
“You’re going to be fine.” Dazai murmured, one hand tangling up in his hair. Chuuya scowled against his neck, but allowed himself to melt into the brunette. He couldn’t hear what Dazai said, but he could hear the tone. He felt a wave of calm, a rush of warmth as Dazai ran his hands all over him.
He felt safe.
(The next morning, he and Dazai woke on the couch, curled up against each other and sleeping peacefully. He slapped Dazai, though the brunette just smiled with stars in his eyes and cupped the redhead’s cheeks.)