#but every time i come out of her class i genuinely feel satisfied and better yet
Latte (He)art
Pairing: Barista!Bucky x Coworker!College!Reader
Summary: Your sweet coworker at the café you work at part time is the only thing able to brighten your day. So it’s only practical that he always ends up in the same shift as you.
Word Count: 7.8k
Warnings: Reader having College stress; mentions of a single mother (not reader); some coffee is spilled; Bucky is a sweetheart; Bucky is worried
Author’s Note: This little piece is written for @elixirfromthestars writing challenge. I actually planned to write this a month earlier but life got in between lol. Here it is now. I dearly hope you enjoy what I made of your lovely prompt.
🤎Coffee Cup🤎 “So we’re swapping our cups, and after a while, we’re swapping a glance. And I can think nothing better than starting the year with a drop of romance.” -Anthony Lazaro
Masterlist
The windows of the coffee shop receive more of your attention than the assortment of pastries you’re supposed to prepare to showcase behind the counter.
It’s fifteen minutes before Bucky’s shift starts and your belly flutters at the thought of seeing him again.
The early morning sun filters through the windows, offering a soft glow that casts warm beams of light to sweep across the floor and catch the glistening frosting on the cinnamon rolls. Their sweet, spiced aroma laced with hints of vanilla and brown sugar wafts through the air.
However, your gaze is more drawn to the street outside, scanning the road for a short mop of chestnut hair.
You like to snag shifts before the classes of your day start, relishing in the early morning hours and being satisfied with getting some work done before studying. But in the two and a half months since you started working at ‘Barnes Brown Beans’, you had come to recognize Bucky seems to prefer working in the morning as well. So, he actually may be the main reason.
Also, you’re usually, coincidentally - or so you tell yourself - paired with him anyway.
You’re grateful for this job. The shop’s close proximity to your university makes it an easy commute and the wages are fair. That’s a blessing in itself. But more than that, it was George and Winifred Barnes, the owners, who initially made it easy for you to love this job.
Winifred had greeted you with sweet enthusiasm at your job interview for a part-time job, making you instantly feel more at ease. After asking a few routine questions and warmly assuring you that the position was yours, she shifted the conversation to your studies with genuine interest and asked if you were good with balancing work and university life - a mother's worries.
It didn’t take long for her to start gushing about her children. She explained to you how her son, Bucky, had been helping out at the coffee shop ever since high school. Instead of pursuing college, like many of his peers and his best friend Steve, he chose to stay in New York to help manage the family business. “I’m sure you two will get along well” she had said with a kind of knowing grin you couldn’t make sense of.
She even shared with you that his little sister, Rebecca, always had a burning passion for studying architecture abroad. Unfortunately, the Barnes simply couldn’t afford a college education for both children, so Bucky decided to step up, taking on more responsibility at the shop so his parents wouldn’t be overwhelmed and relieving them of some stressful work, allowing his sister to follow her dreams.
She spoke with so much love and gratitude she held for her son, it almost made you tear up. She mentioned that Bucky never once showed resentment or regret for the path he chose.
Instead, he took pride in his role, and you could see it too. During your brief time working with him, you noticed how he carried himself with a quiet determination. There is genuine joy in the way he treats customers, always kind and attentive, and he always puts so much care into every small detail of his work.
He also loves to tell you about the exams his sister passed, and the friends she made; pride in her success evident when he speaks about her.
You admire him. He’s selfless, hardworking, and full of heart.
So it’s just logical that his parents gave him so much responsibility early on and made him part of the management.
You don’t mind that one second though, because he takes his authority incredibly seriously and usually shows up for his shifts earlier than he needs to.
It’s why your gaze is drawn to the panes of glass at the front once again.
You got in at 7 today, getting enthusiastically greeted by George - as he told you to call him on your first day - and tasked with the usual morning routine. So, as he disappeared into the small office room at the back of the shop, you had started prepping the food equipment and putting it on display.
The shop wouldn’t open until 8, so you still had some time to breathe before the morning rush would start, but you always feel some kind of gratitude at the way George lets you handle yourself at the front while waiting for Bucky to arrive at 7:30 to help out.
Admittedly, you didn’t get that much done yet, caused by the thought of seeing Bucky walk in through the door at any minute.
You saw him just 4 days ago at your last shift, but the giddy anticipation is all the same and you only have three and a half hours with him today before you have to leave for your classes.
The buttery, sweet, and slightly nutty smell of the freshly baked croissants you’re currently rearranging wafts from the trays and reaches your nostrils, but gets ignored the second you hear keys jiggling outside, and your attention snaps to the door.
“Morning doll!”
Bucky’s smooth voice comes through the door with him, cheerful as always as he greets you with a charming smile, and your chest flutters. A rush of cool air hits your exposed skin from outside, but his grin is warming you back up quickly.
You fumble with the croissant in your hand, but recover in time and throw him a smile of your own, hoping you’re able to mask the excitement you tried to hold in all morning.
“Morning, Bucky,” you greet him back sweetly, turning your attention back to the pastries, pretending to focus on your task at hand.
Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Bucky pulls off his coat and then makes his way over to you, hovering over your shoulder, while putting on his apron. You try to hide the way your hands get a little clammy in the see-through gloves you’re wearing while touching the food.
You tend to the fruit danishes, their glossy, golden crust filled with rich cream cheese and topped with plump raspberries, blueberries, and apricots.
Carefully placing each in its designated spot, you only manage to breathe a little easier when you feel Bucky move over to the coffee machines, their steady hum filling the quiet space as Bucky busies himself.
“Smells amazing, doll,” he calls over his shoulder and you can hear the grin in his voice.
You let out a soft laugh, glancing at him briefly before putting your head back around. “Didn’t make them, Bucky,” you explain, tone playful but modest.
Brewing coffee and clinking mugs are the only sounds you hear before Bucky’s hum reaches your ears. “Maybe you should,” he states, teasing laced with a hint of sincerity. “Bet they’d be gone in seconds.”
You’re grateful that Bucky isn’t in your line of sight because you feel heat creeping up your neck, coloring your cheeks. Your laugh is a little breathless, a little more insecure than you intended.
A few weeks ago you had casually mentioned your love for baking when Bucky had asked about your hobbies, and ever since he loved to bring it up every once in a while.
“I don’t know about that.” You try for nonchalance, but the blush doesn’t leave your face.
“Gotta give yourself more credit, doll,” he replies easily, his words wrapped in that effortless charm of his. You hear some more clinking of cups as he makes one for himself, just like every day. “Want coffee?”
He asks every time. You decline, like every time. Though he never fails to ask.
And it never fails to make your morning feel just a little bit brighter.
****
Watching Bucky create his latte art has become one of the highlights of your day. There is something mesmerizing in the way he moves, pouring the steamed milk with such precision and focus as if each cup would get graded by an artist.
You’ve noticed how much care he puts into it, the way he pauses before finishing, always needing it to be perfect.
You can tell when Bucky isn’t quite satisfied, like right now, as he holds up the cup that looks flawless to you. But there is a twitch of his mouth, a slight hesitation in his hand as if he’s debating whether to start over or risk making it worse with one more pour.
It’s adorable, really. To you, they all look perfect, but he holds himself to a standard that’s somehow both admirable and endearing.
Today, Bucky was the one already there when you arrived at 8 am, along with the first customers of the day.
The scent of fresh coffee had filled the air as you stepped inside, a soft murmur of conversation around you setting the tone for the morning rush.
He was stationed behind the counter, together with one of your coworkers, Peter. It didn’t escape your notice that Bucky caught your eye immediately, flashing you that warm, easy smile even before acknowledging Mr. Nakajima, a frequent visitor.
It was a small gesture but it excited you nonetheless.
Mr. Nakajima, or Yori as you’d heard Bucky call him, now sits in his usual corner, peacefully sipping his tea; his quiet presence a constant in the shop.
The older man always seems content to watch the people go in and out of the shop, observing the ebb and flow of the crowd, wrinkled hands wrapped around his cup as if savoring the warmth.
Bucky often took time to sit with him when things were slow, sharing long and comfortable conversations that seemed to be meaningful. There is something about the way Bucky treats Yori that tugs at your heart.
It seems, that right now Bucky is comfortable with leaving Peter and you to attend to the ebbing crowd as he makes his way to Yori's table and slowly lowers himself in front of him.
You deliberately turn away although there isn’t much to do for you right now since the morning rush is over and Peter attends to the only customer in the shop right now. So, you mindlessly wipe down the counter, not because you’re not interested, but if you spend any more attention on the guy you might get overwhelmed by the awe he arises in you.
The way Bucky smiles when he talks to the old man, the way his face lights up with that blinding, heart-stopping grin - it has a dizzying effect on you. And the laugh he lets slip every so often, low and full of warmth, makes it hard to concentrate on any coffee orders.
Bucky stays at Yori's table for a while. Every now and then you make out his face turning in your direction, lingering a little but you stay focused on your work.
“Y/n?”
The sound of Peters's voice makes your head snap over to him, blinking in expectation.
“Sorry, uh, you seemed a little distracted for a sec,” Peter says with a shy laugh, scratching the back of his neck, eyes flickering not so subtly over to Bucky.
Alright, maybe you have looked a few times. Whatever.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, doing your best to ignore the knowing grin spreading across Peter's face. Thankfully, a girl around your age approaches the counter, saving you from the growing awkwardness. You flash her a smile and focus on her order.
More customers start to stream in, the café again beginning to buzz with activity. Bucky, noticing the crowd building up, excuses himself from Yori’s table with a friendly pat on the old man’s shoulder. He steps back behind the counter, his easygoing demeanor never faltering as he joins in beside you. You share a quick smile.
Working with Bucky always makes it fun in some sense, time slipping by too quickly. Before you know it, it’s time for you to head out for your first class of the day.
You step away from the counter, untie your apron, and grab your things, already feeling reluctant to leave Bucky’s side.
“Already time to go?” Bucky asks, turned in your direction, his voice carrying that familiar deep drawl. There’s a slight disappointment laced in his tone, that doesn’t escape you.
“Yeah,” you sigh, “first class is-“
“History,” he finishes for you, without missing a beat.“I remember.”
You hadn’t expected him to recall such a small detail about your schedule, surprise registering on your face. But you quickly push out a smile, nodding at him, your heart doing a little somersault.
“Hold on,” he insists quietly, already moving to snap up a to-go bag and carefully placing a croissant inside. With a casual grin, he holds it out for you to take. “On the house.”
This isn’t the first time Bucky has given you something to go, insisting you take it as a gift. But it never gets easier to accept his small acts of kindness. You hesitate, not making a move to take the bag and Bucky’s smirk only deepens, playing the same game you’ve had before.
“Take it, doll,” he drawls, dangling the bag in front of your face with a playful glint in his eye. “Can’t let you go to class hungry, now can I?”
You can’t help but roll your eyes with a smile tugging at your lips, and snatch the bag from his hand with mock annoyance. “Fine, but this is the last time,” you warn, rather weakly it seems, considering the way Bucky leans against the counter with his arms crossed, smirking at you in an amused manner.
“You know it’s not. Can’t fault me for taking care of you, doll. You haven’t eaten anything all morning.”
His words are casual, but the way he says it, the unspoken concern that lingers, makes giddy warmth rise in your stomach, spreading to your face and heating your skin.
You hope it’s not that obvious, so you just sigh again, dramatically, and exaggerate an eye roll as Bucky lets another cup get filled with coffee, eyes remaining on you, a chuckle fleeing his lips.
You make your way to the door of the shop, knowing you’d just pay him back by slipping some money into the tip jar when you’re in earlier than him.
“And no leaving dollars in the tip jar, sweetheart,” Bucky calls out behind you, the smug amusement clear in his voice. “Ma told me about that.”
Busted.
You turn you head with a faux helpless look, which only sends him into a fit of laughter, the sound rich and full, echoing through the shop, and your heart bursts, ignoring the people standing in the line wearing looks between confusion and annoyance. Laughing quietly yourself, you let the warmth of the moment fill you up, then quickly slip out the door before the flustered grin on your face can betray you any further.
With the door closed, the sounds of the café seal off behind you and you find yourself lingering just a second longer than the last time.
****
“Girl, I’m telling you, that’s nothing! I accidentally made a girl’s latte with cow's milk although she’d ordered oat. Chased her down the street like a lunatic, I mean she could have had an allergy and whatnot. Turns out it was just a preference and she didn’t mind. Talk about embarrassing.”
You chuckle along to Gina’s story, dusting the cappuccino in front of you with a sprinkle of cinnamon, scents mingling together.
Regina - or Gina as she prefers - is always someone you enjoy working with together. She’s incredibly open-minded and carries that vibrant energy you need to get through the day. She’s got a few years on you but never fails to make you laugh.
While brewing coffee and selling them, she loves to tell you about her little boy, Nikita. You’ve seen pictures of him on her phone and he’s adorable with puffy cheeks, dark curls, and dark green eyes. He must have those from his father.
You know she is a single mother and you admire the way she takes it with pride, finding peace in her situation and insisting that she and Nikita are better off without his father.
You’ve also come to find out that 'Barnes Brown Beans' wasn’t the only job she had but that George and Winifred are so much fairer than her other boss, being supportive and trying to give her shifts that accommodate her schedule so she could pick up Nikita from kindergarden early enough to still have time with him every day.
Another thing that makes this job so valuable.
Earlier was a brief lull in the crowd, allowing you and her to chat. The conversation had drifted into the realm of embarrassing work stories. You shared one of your own, recalling how, in your first week, you had prepared a to-go coffee. You felt that nervousness that comes with starting a new job and as you tried to slide the cup over the counter to the customer, your aim had been far too enthusiastic. The cup sailed past the edge, spinning gracefully through the air before landing in the trash bin.
You hoped that perhaps nobody really saw what happened besides the slightly perturbed man in front of you. But since you shared this shift with Bucky and he always seems to have an eye on you, of course, he was a witness. You remember the way his laugh had erupted, uncontainable, filling the air behind the counter. He had leaned against it for support while you stood there, cheeks burning.
He didn’t make you feel bad though, helping you remake the coffee and almost sheepishly adding that the same thing happened to him once. Only, in his case, it was a porcelain cup. And it didn’t land in the bin. The image of it crashing to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces as coffee splattered everywhere, was enough to make you feel a little less embarrassed.
“Something funny?”
The familiar voice catches you off guard and you look up from the register. Sure enough, Bucky is strolling up to the counter, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets and that handsome grin on his face that always causes your stomach to do flips.
“Bucky?” you ask, a soft, confused laugh escaping you. You feel your heart jump in excitement and try to tone it down. He wasn’t supposed to come in for a few more hours, and you had already resigned yourself to the disappointment of missing him today. You’d seen the shift schedule last week and the realization was like a cloud casting a shadow over your mood.
So, seeing him standing in front of you only makes a smile stretch wide without even thinking.
“I think you’re a little early,” you assess, voice light as you ring up the girl standing at the counter. Handing her the cappuccino, you glance back at him, the small transaction barely registering as your attention stays fixed on Bucky.
His grin only widens as he shrugs with a kind of faux nonchalance, letting his gaze sweep across the room. His smile stays in place, even as he steps aside for a middle-aged man approaching you.
“Couldn’t stay away,” he teases with that signature edge of playfulness that always gets to you.
As you start to prepare the man’s coffee, you can feel Bucky’s gaze on you, watching your every move. It’s a weight you’ve grown fond of - his silent observation that makes you more aware of yourself, in a good way.
You flash him a quick smile before refocusing.
“Also had to know how that exam went,” he adds casually, leaning in just a little, but you’re aware of that curiosity his voice always carries when he asks you about college. Or anything about your life, really.
You huff out a small laugh, ringing up the man’s order and sliding his coffee across the counter before turning your full attention back to Bucky. “Wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be,” you answer him, a hint of relief in your tone since you had been stressing about this exam for weeks. “I think I did okay.”
Bucky leans against the counter now, propping himself up in that relaxed way of his, eyes never leaving yours. You’re glad you get to talk to him, glad that Gina attends to the only current customer right now and you have a second with Bucky, but the unknown power his gaze holds over you threatens to overwhelm you.
“What’d I tell ya, doll? Of course, you did great. Smartest girl I know.”
You snort, but your heart races. He always seems so sure of your success, having this confidence in you, that you feel you lack sometimes and it makes warmth pool in your gut. “Well I guess I’ll have to thank you, then,” you reply, smile present and voice light but the gratitude is real.
His scent - a mix of something warm and clean, almost earthy, and his cologne - cuts through the usual aroma of coffee beans and pastries. It’s grounding and you have to remind yourself to focus as you move toward the coffee machines.
“Do you want coffee?” you throw over your shoulder, fingers already hovering over the buttons.
Bucky straightens up in your peripherals and you make out the shake of his head with that soft smile on his face. “Don’t wanna keep you from work. I’ll make it myself, thanks doll!”
The door to the café swings open and three girls walk in together, laughter filling the room as they make their way over to you. Bucky’s movements snap your head back to him as he casually slips behind the counter, stepping up to the coffee machines and you head back to the register, keeping awareness of his presence as always.
Since Bucky’s shift doesn’t start yet, he stays lingering behind the counter and engages in conversation with Gina when he notices you getting busy again. From where you stand you can hear snippets of their conversation - Bucky asking about Nikita and when he gets to see him again.
You never realized they are that close but the thought of Bucky caring about that little boy instantly heats your skin. There’s a softness to imagining him in that role, and you can easily picture how good he must be with kids.
After all, you’ve seen it before - the way his face lights up when he catches sight of children toddling along beside their parents, the way he bends down to their height, engages them in little conversations that always leave them giggling or grinning from ear to ear. It’s endearing and really no wonder that every child he talks to seems to adore him.
But what really tugs at your heart, what causes a flutter deep in your chest, is the subtle way Bucky’s attention keeps drifting back to you.
Even in the middle of his chat with Gina, you can feel his gaze lingering on you. There is a quiet fondness in the way he watches you go about your work, always wearing that soft expression.
It’s not like he’s checking if you’re doing your job right - nothing about it feels critical or scrutinizing. Instead, it’s as if he’s simply enjoying observing you, absorbing the way you move through your tasks, as though he’s eager to learn all the little details that make up your routine.
And surprisingly, it doesn’t make you as nervous as you might have believed. If anything, there is something soothing about his attention, like a silent reassurance you never knew you needed.
Occasionally, throughout your shift, Bucky strikes up conversations with familiar customers - frequent flyers whose names he already knows by heart. You catch bits and pieces of their easy small talk, but even then, his eyes always find their way back to you.
And every time you meet them, your heart swells with hope that perhaps the reason he came in early for his shift might be you.
****
Your week has been nothing short of overwhelming and frustrating - packed with assignments, papers to write, and facts to memorize. To top it off, a fellow student had yelled at you for breaking his pen, and you still remember that disappointed glint in your professor's eyes after failing to give him satisfying answers in class.
It feels like you are constantly juggling everything at once, and somehow, the balance has tipped entirely.
Sleep has become a rare luxury, replaced by caffeine-fueled study sessions that stretch into the early hours of the morning.
As you walk to the café for your afternoon shift, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, the exhaustion settling in your bones.
You rarely work afternoon shifts, but this one fits perfectly behind your friday classes and you have been too swamped the rest of the week to pick up any shifts at all.
Your pace is slower than usual, feet dragging slightly on the pavement. There is no real need to hurry today. Normally, your steps would quicken as you approached the café, that familiar, sweet sign with its three big B’s always managing to lift your mood.
But today the excitement isn’t there. Not when you know Bucky has the day off. Without him there, the urgency to get to work just isn’t the same.
But, thinking about it, it might be for the best that Bucky is not around today. You can’t imagine you look all that appealing right now, with dark bags under your eyes - the kind that no amount of concealer could hide. Your skin has that worn-out, dull shimmer to it - the kind that no amount of caffeine could mask.
You catch a glimpse of your reflection in a shop window as you pass and wince slightly. The fatigue shows in your features, and for a moment, you’re thankful that this day won’t include the possibility of Bucky catching sight of you in this state.
You’re partly relieved to have a shift where you can simply focus on getting through it without feeling self-conscious. There is no need to hide how utterly drained you feel because you really couldn’t care less how your appearance would affect your customers. You just need to make it through these few hours, go home, and hopefully, finally get some rest.
You pull open the door, gathering what little composure you can muster. The all-known blend of rich coffee, baked pastries, and warm, cozy air greets you as always, along with the chatter from the packed room. It’s busy, as expected for this time of day, but the environment surprisingly helps ground you as you weave your way through the crowd, slipping between patrons.
Your eyes catch Winifred at the back, her beaming smile a quick but comforting sight before she disappears behind the office door with a wave.
Side-stepping two men chatting near the line, you get a clearer view of the counter and freeze - feet refusing to continue.
Thanks to the work schedule you know who your coworkers are today. Peter was assigned, as well as Wanda, a nice, but slightly odd girl with a thick accent and laser-like focus on her task.
You had prepared for them both. But it isn’t Wanda standing next to Peter behind the counter.
It’s Bucky.
Your heart jumps into your throat and you’re not sure if it’s because of the surprise of seeing him or because of how unprepared you feel in this exact moment. You didn’t even check your hair in a car window before entering.
He’s here - on his supposed day off - laughing with a guy on the other side of the counter as he works the espresso machine, his movements smooth and practiced; no surprise there. His presence is so casual and effortless that you find yourself thinking your tired eyes might have looked at the wrong day on the schedule and perhaps you aren’t even supposed to work today. Though Winifred wasn’t at all surprised to see you.
Your head spins at the simple thought and yet a ripple of warmth shoots through you at the sight of him, making you momentarily forget just how drained you are.
While every fiber of your being wants to feel self-conscious about your tired eyes and the imperfections on your skin, craving to stay hidden between the line of people, the longer you watch him work, it gets overtaken by something else.
That same old lightness that seems to follow him wherever he goes and sticks to you when you’re near enough, soaking into your veins and filling them with energy. You can practically feel them fizzle.
You would have liked to linger in this moment just a little longer, but it’s cut short abruptly when he spots you. His polite smile brightens instantly, eyebrows moving up slightly as his eyes lighten up.
You flash him a smile in return, though you can feel it wobble at the edges, probably more sheepish than anything else. Maybe it even comes off as a grimace with the exhaustion weighing on you, but you quickly break eye contact and resume walking.
For a moment, you make out Bucky’s hand pausing mid-motion, hovering above the counter before he slides a to-go cup to the waiting guy on the other side.
Passing by, you can feel his gaze trailing after you, burning softly against your skin, a quiet but intense presence that follows you even when you’re not looking.
You busy yourself with dialing in for the shift, wrapping your apron around your waist, doing your best to shake off the fatigue and the flutter that Bucky’s unexpected presence elicits in you.
From behind you, you catch the sound of his voice, though it sounds a little distracted, asking the next customer to repeat their order.
You glance back, quickly greeting Peter as you pass, but your focus is drawn to the pastry case, where a small woman waits for service. You keep your hands moving, bagging up her choice of pastries - two croissants and four scones - but make out Bucky’s head turning in your direction a few times.
You steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye, noticing the slight furrow in his brow as he works. He’s a little slower now, less sure in his movements than when you first walked in. It’s subtle, but you can tell his focus is slipping. Something about his energy has shifted.
Minutes pass and the three of you stay busy with the steady stream of customers. You remain behind the pastry case, preparing the treats for the eager crowd. In between transactions, you notice Bucky taking a step in your direction, hesitating each time like he wants to step closer but keeps pulling himself back at the last second.
He returns to the register every time, tending to the next person in line, but there is an urgency in his movements now. His hands got quicker again, fingers tapping impatiently against the counter as he waits for the coffee to brew and his gaze falls back to you every so often but you avoid it.
Another few minutes tick by and you begin to settle into the rhythm of the shift when a sudden shout rings out from the front.
Your head snaps up, eyes locking onto the group of people stepping back from the counter hastily, startled by the splash of coffee that arcs through the air.
The cup that had caused the commotion clinks against the counter, slipping in Bucky’s hand and his other one shoots out to hold it steady before it can meet the ground alongside the coffee that was in it moments before.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Bucky exclaims, his voice thick with frustration as he shakes his head at himself, wiping the spilled brown liquor from his hands. He quickly puts away the cup and apologizes again to the man it was meant for and the crowd of people who got startled.
The customer, a guy who looks to be in his mid-twenties, holds up his hands in a placating gesture, clearly not bothered by the accident. His jacket sleeve is stained with coffee, but he brushes it off with a casual shrug. “No worries, man, really. Nothing happened, you’re good!”
Bucky doesn’t seem to relax. You can see the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders are still tight as he remakes the drink with stiff, almost mechanical precision. You’ve never seen him so rattled but then again, he has been unfocused ever since he saw you.
Work continues steadily for the next half hour, with the rush of patrons finally starting to taper off. The café gradually empties, the throng thinning out until only a handful of people remain, some of them sitting in booths going on with their conversations.
You catch sight of Bucky leaning in closer to Peter, murmuring something you can’t quite make out. Peter nods, and without another word and a small pat on Peter’s shoulder, Bucky steps back from the counter.
This time, his hesitation is gone as he strides over to you.
He stops beside you, eyes on your profile. “Hey,” he speaks softly, voice low.
You finish helping a boy, thanking him for the tip before turning to Bucky with a small smile.
“Hey,” you reply, voice matching his softness but quieter. You turn your attention to the young girl in front of you, requesting a cookie. Reaching for a bag to tuck the treat inside, you continue the conversation, though your eyes stay focused downward.
“Didn’t expect to see you here today,” you comment, sensing his gaze on you.
“Yeah, uh, I took Wanda’s shift,” Bucky responds, his voice a little more tentative now. You notice him shuffling slightly beside you, standing up straighter.
He offers no further explanation as to why he picked up the shift, and you don’t feel the energy to ask about it. For some reason, the simple act of bagging a cookie while talking to him feels like a juggling act your tired brain isn’t quite up for.
So all you manage is a noncommittal hum in response.
The girl leaves with her cookie and Bucky stays beside you, solid and unyielding in his gaze. It presses on you like a weight as the moments pass.
Your stomach flutters uneasily when you realize there’s no line left to distract you, no excuse to stay busy.
You move automatically, reaching for the paper bags, rearranging them with a bit more force than necessary, trying to give yourself something to focus on, something other than Bucky’s eyes burning into you.
“Are you okay?” he asks finally, slowly and lowly, as if the question is something private meant only for you. It is. You feel the shift in his tone, the way he leans in slightly as if he needs a sincere answer to his sincere question.
It pulls your attention to him and you reluctantly lift your head, your heart twisting at the sight. Bucky gazes down at you with an expression far more serious than you’ve ever seen. His blue eyes, usually filled with a glimmering light when he looks at you, hold an amount of concern that seems to have an impact on his stiff muscles.
“I’m fine, Bucky,” you declare gently, smiling at him in hopes it’ll reassure him, though even before the words have left your lips completely, you felt it wasn’t entirely convincing.
Bucky studies you a moment longer. His eyes trace your features, dark brows hanging low, but you don’t take your words back.
Then, after a pause he lets out a long drawn sigh, hanging his head in defeat. He obviously doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t push it. The concern in his eyes remains but he lets it go, stepping back from you slowly.
He walks over to the coffee machines, deliberately trying to feign casualness. He grabs a cup and turns the familiar button after checking if Peter needs some help at the register, the whirring sound of brewing coffee filling the brief silence between you.
“You want some coffee?” he asks, like clockwork - just as he does every time you work together.
Without thinking, you open your mouth to decline, as usual. It’s almost muscle memory at this point, your automatic response. But then, mid-through, you pause. Another shot of caffeine can’t hurt. You can use the energy to get home safely without passing out after this shift.
The cup fills, steam rises, and Bucky turns to you when you take too long to answer.
You hesitate for a beat, then shift your gaze away, feeling a little awkward. “Yeah, I’ll take one,” you decide, stepping beside him to grab yourself a cup, eyes not moving to him.
But before you can reach for one, Bucky’s hand wraps gently around your wrist, halting you. The touch is light, but enough to make your pulse quicken. “Hold on,” he remarks, his voice filled with concern rather than confusion. “You never want coffee when I ask.” His intense eyes search your face again.
“If you always expect me to say no, then why do you keep asking?”
Bucky doesn’t respond immediately. He just keeps looking at you, quietly pleading for honesty. “That ain’t the point,” he softy counters but his voice carries insistence. “Something’s wrong.”
You sigh. God, you’re tired. You really need that coffee and you’d certainly feel terrible for getting annoyed at Bucky. He’s just trying to figure you out. He cares. That thought alone presses against the wall you’ve been trying to maintain all day.
Gently, you pull your wrist from his loose grip, and he lets his hand fall back to his side, though his gaze doesn’t waver.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Damn, that came out hollow. “I’m just a little stressed,” you add when he starts to shake his head, “and I could use a cup. It’s just coffee, Bucky.”
You see the muscles in his jaw tighten and his hand comes up to run through his hair.
“It’s not just coffee, darling,” he sighs. There’s a pause in which he assesses you again, then he continues. “Alright. Don’t take this the wrong way, doll. You know you’re a beautiful gal, but… you look like you’re about to drop dead.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. It looks like tiredness comes with an attitude, because your mind foregoes the part where he called you beautiful, only hearing the other side.
“Well.” You draw out the word. “If you don’t want me to drop dead, then let me have some coffee.” There is a bit of edge to your tone you hadn’t exactly intended, but you’re too tired to smooth it out. You also don’t wait for him to respond, quickly reaching for another cup and pressing the button before Bucky can grab your arm again.
Bucky stays quiet for a moment, watching you with those piercing blue eyes that seem to see right through your walls. He doesn’t look angry - just worried.
As the coffee pours you hear him take a breath. “Alright,” Bucky says quietly, almost under his breath. “I’m sorry, Y/n,” he adds after a short pause. Firmness, sincerity, and perhaps an amount of regret are all wrapped in his tone.
He used your name. You haven’t heard him say your name since the first time working here. And never with that much conviction.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just… worried.” His voice softens even more, it sounds almost pleading and he takes a quick glance back at Peter, who was busy attending to the few patrons mingling about, before refocusing on you, his hand brushing over his hair. “I’ve seen you stressed before. Like when you kept going on about how worried you were for that exam. I watched you go through the stuff you had to learn in your head while remaining so incredibly focused and sweet during work. I admire that, Y/n. I must’ve told you a thousand times you’d ace it, but you wouldn’t believe me.” He chuckles lowly, sheepishly, and he licks his lips, before continuing. His gaze leaves you, mind seemingly far in his memories.
“Or your first day here. You were so nervous about making a mistake. You asked so many questions, were so interested in everything. I kept thinking about you all day. Every day, really.” He took another deep breath. It comes out a little unsteady and his eyes quickly flicker over to you, not quite meeting your own, but still searching your features.
“But this… this is different, and- I don’t know. I don’t like it. Hate it, honestly. Seeing you like this.”
His words hit you deep. The genuine concern and sincerity in his tone make your chest tighten, throat closing up and you feel yourself losing your breath as he takes a small step closer, eyes now fully on yours again. The nerves in his voice that had been there are gone now. Because he’s sure of what he says next. It’s clear in his tone.
“But, sweetheart, even through it all, you still manage to be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Drop dead gorgeous, honestly.”
You let out a surprised huff of laughter, partly because it’s easier than acknowledging and processing the meaning of his words. Heat creeps up your cheeks and all you feel like doing is bolt out of the door at the other end of the room but your feet are rooted to the spot. Perhaps, the floor would just give away and you’d fall deep down into the unknown.
That still would be kinder than standing in front of Bucky right now after his heavy confessions, feeling too vulnerable under his soft gaze.
You’re not able to meet his eyes, dropping your head. You know he is still looking at you. You don’t have to feel it to know it. That gentle expression, the reassuring smile - like he’s silently conveying that everything’s okay.
“Let me make you feel better, yeah?” Bucky’s voice is barely above a whisper, gentle, yet filled with intent. He gives you a moment, letting his earlier confessions sink in, before taking hold of the now full cup that is meant for you. Your eyes widen slightly when you see him grab the can of freshly steamed milk, an almost eager smile tugging at his lips.
“Are you pulling your latte art on me?” you ask with a light laugh, some of the tension in your chest loosening. There is a little bit of a teasing note in your voice now, your heartbeat beginning to slow.
“Sure am, doll!” Bucky grins proudly, lifting the cup higher. His brow furrows in concentration as he carefully pours the milk with a steady hand, his tongue briefly poking out as he narrows his eyes to get the design just right. You had seen him do this many times before but never for you.
The precision and dedication he’s giving to something as simple as your coffee makes your heart swell. You’re the one watching him now with a soft smile, utterly mesmerized by how serious he’s taking it.
You take a glance at the other cup - the one Bucky had made for himself and an idea hits you. Steam still rises from the liquid inside, the scent of fresh coffee meeting your nose.
You look around the counter, spotting the milk pot Peter had just set down and, without a second thought, you pick up Bucky’s cup, ready to return the favor. You lift the milk and begin to pour.
“What are you doing, doll?” Bucky’s gaze stays fixed on the cup in his hand, but his smile is beaming, curiosity lacing his words.
“I don’t think I need to tell you that,” you retort, your voice playful as you guide the milk with careful precision, weaving your hand in the practiced motions until you’re satisfied with the design.
Bucky’s chuckle is warm and soft and for a moment, it feels like the world shrinks down to just the two of you, the quiet intimacy cutting through the noise of the ebbing café.
Bucky finishes his work and sets the milk pot back down. There is a slight hesitation in his movements as he hands over the cup for you, a touch of nervousness creeping into his stance. You smile up at him and offer the cup in your hand to him. His hands are a little clammy as they touch yours. You swap coffees.
Your mouth falls open as you take a glance down into the cup. In the creamy white foam, a delicate rose is perfectly etched, its petals spiraling gracefully outward. Surrounding the rose are tiny, intricate hearts, floating around the bloom. The detail is so mesmerizing that all you can do is stare at it.
“This is incredible, Bucky,” you breathe out, voice filled with amazement. When you look up, he’s already watching you. He’s breathing deeply and his smile is in place. But there is also something in his eyes he doesn’t try to hold back - pure adoration, shining clearly like he just can’t hide it anymore.
He holds his own cup carefully, as if it’s something precious, something fragile, as if even the tiniest movement would mess up the heart in white swirling in his cup. Though, you feel like the simple heart pales in comparison to the masterpiece he’s created for you.
“It’s beautiful,” you say quietly, a hint of shyness in your tone. You feel a tiny amount of embarrassment but Bucky just keeps smiling, so warm and incredibly fond, that any hint of insecurity melts away.
“Learned it for you,” he admits it softly, his words slipping out like a secret he’s been holding onto for too long. Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening slightly before you look back down at the cup, tracing the design over and over again with your gaze.
“I love it, Bucky. I love these little hearts,” you address admiringly, almost dreamily.
Bucky is beaming above you, and although he shakes his head softly, his smile never leaves his face. He takes in a deep breath, seemingly needing to compose himself and looks down at his own cup, at the heart in it.
“Well,” he vocalizes, affection surrounded by a playful edge, “my heart’s bigger.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Don’t flatter yourself, Barnes. It’s the only thing I know how to do.”
He chuckles, that vibrating sound, that always makes your chest feel lighter. “I can teach you,” he offers, his bright blues looking deeply into your eyes, so full of affection that it makes your breath catch for a second.
And in that second - because that’s all it takes - everything shifts. For the better. Always for the better, because it’s hard to feel anything negative when Bucky smiles at you the way he does.
“you deserve
the kind of love
like hot coffee between your lips
that loves you gently
but makes you bold
and gives you life between the sips”
- a.b.
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i love my piano professor SM
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love letters part II
shauna shipman x fem!reader
summary: the one where reader finds the truth about shauna's feelings.
warnings: r dates jeff, jealousy, homoerotic friendship, shauna is reader's best friend, no crash, shauna doesn't know how to talk about her feelings, angsty first, short but with a happy ending cause i dont wanna get murdered, not proofread
this is the second part of a fic i wrote weeks ago that can be found here
you came to the conclusion that refraining yourself from speaking to shauna for a few days couldn't be so difficult. there were plenty of other people to talk in wiskayok high after all.
of course, these people weren't shauna. they didn't wear flannels or either would bring your favorite ice cream flavor after school to feast on while watching a dumb movie or to use it as a background for your incessant conversation.
you would be just fine. you had jeff, your boyfriend.
"you are doing much better without her, babe." jeff was impatiently waiting for you to grab your books from your locker to put his hands on you, as if you were a important prize to show others. you thought it was cute the first time it happened, when he was so anxious to have his dirty hands on your waist to show his new possession. now it just pissed you off.
"look. i know she was your friend," jeff stops walking, not satisfied with your silence and feeling even worse about you not agreeing with him. "but that chick was hella weird. we have classes together and to this day, i don't even know the sound of her voice." he seems to finds his own way of talking about your best friend amusing as he snorts to himself.
he's too entertained to notice you looking at him dead in the eyes. yes, shauna was quiet and she didn't talk much but because she was observant. loud and clear, shana had called you desperate for attention two days ago. if anyone had the right to talk shit about her, this someone was you.
"come on, don't be so serious. it was a joke!" jeff hurriedly defends himself as you storm off, the sound of the locker door slamming reverberating in the corridor. "are you still coming to the party tonight?" his voice draws attention from other students passing through the hallway.
your dilemma on how to ignore shauna was quickly resolved, though not exactly in the way you anticipated. escaping from jeff's presence, the world around you seemed to halt as you caught sight of Shauna walking in the opposite direction. clad in her signature flannels, her dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail, her doe eyes were even more prominent.
meanwhile, as the world around you seemed to freeze in time, you thought about waving or greeting her with a faint smile. despite the exchange of heated words between you two, fueled by anger, you knew deep down none of it was genuine. none of that was real. she was still your best friend.
the time was up and you had to do something but she was faster and chose for the both of you. shauna did nothing. she ignored you. abruptly breaking the eye contact as fast as she could as if you were some kind of deathly disease.
things didn’t get any better after that.
you met her again when leaving the bathroom after lunch. getting out of the stall, you were petrified to see her right in front of you washing her hands. you knew she had seen you through the mirror thanks to the way she quickly looked away and never bothered to face the mirror again.
it took you a minute to realize that she wasn’t worried or upset. she was her casual self, calm and composed while you were overthinking every step of her. washing your hands by her side, you try to initiate at least a small interaction, facing her with the corner of your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice.
you see her drying her hands and getting ready to leave the bathroom, so you quickly wipe your wet hands on your pants to follow her.
“hi, shauna, can we-“ you mutter quietly as you reach for her wrist, but she’s quicker, and in an instant, she darts out, leaving the door to close in your face.
off to a good start.
[💌]
it wasn’t until when you saw yourself wearing more pink clothes than usual because jeff wanted you to look like the stereotypical feminine standard, or reading less because you spent too much time lost in your imagination, that you found out that shauna was right.
you had changed. and worse, for a guy.
you would never put your favorite book aside just because your boyfriend told you so or find new movies to like because the ones you liked were too “manly”.
you couldn't escape the vision of shauna laughing and jeering in your mind. she had tried to warn you, but your defensive response only made things worse, and the worry of ruining your friendship with her kept you up at night
[💌]
“no, babe, hear me out.” jeff has his arm around you hanging over your shoulder and mouth full of french fries with eyes glued on tv, barely making any sense out of his words. “you gotta get rid of it. it’s pointless to keep this, shauna doesn’t care anymore.”
you thought you liked jeff for many reasons. he was good with his words, even though the letters stopped coming, he was decent at football, treated you well, even if not paying attention to everything you said, and your parents liked him. but you didn’t like him for his empathy.
jeff had given you a ride after school and bought food for you. now, sitting in the couch, he was doing an awful job at pretending to listen to you talk about how badly you missed your best friend. you mentioned that shauna was the one who gave you an adorable stuffed bear for your birthday three years ago, the one you were always holding onto lately, when you were obsessed with watching nature documentaries.
“i can’t get rid of it, jeff. it’s cruel.” you roll your eyes, irritated at his idea of solving problems.
“it’s just a plushie for babies. i can give you a new one.”
disregarding the sound of your boyfriend's voice, now more irritating than ever, you dash from the couch with the stuffed bear in hands. finally emerging from his TV daze, he gazes up at you, his brows knit in confusion.
“you’re not liking the movie?” jeff asks, oblivious of the thing that was actually making you go crazy. you couldn’t care any less about the movie when shauna was mad.
“i’m going to shauna’s. i need to tell her that i’m sorry.”
“what? now? i just got here.” jeff eyes widen and you notice how he looks like he’s panicking over your words.
“great. so you know the way out, right?”
[💌]
when you knocked on the door, shauna's mom greeted you with a big smile and let you in. no questions asked. this made you think that shauna hadn't spoken to her parents yet and you didn't expect her to, anyway. she rarely shared her feelings with anyone who wasn't constantly reassuring her.
what truly caught you off guard was her absence. you'd understand if it were a friday night, but on a school day? what if she'd made new friends? found a new best friend? a boyfriend or girlfriend? it didn't matter to you. shauna wasn't yours to control. you weren't upset in the slightest. even if the physical pain in your chest, as if your heart was being crushed, was undeniably there.
you knew the way to the attic. her bedroom looked just as it always did. the large 'reality bites' poster still dominated the wall, a messy pile of books lay on her bed, and clothes were draped over the small armchair near her bed. the only noticeable difference was the stack of new notebooks on her shelf.
as you headed towards her bed to wait for her, you tripped over a cardboard box that clearly wasn't there before; you knew her room inside out. cursing under your breath, you dragged the box closer to the bed and sat down to see what was inside.
inside the box were numerous papers and envelopes. you plunged your hand into the mess and picked one out, curiosity piqued. your brow furrowed as you recognized the content from past letters you had received. you grabbed another, and then another. each was handwritten by shauna, with a space left blank for a signature.
jeff's signature.
panic sets in. your heart skips a beat. soon, shauna's bed was covered in a sea of letters that you've desperately read. everything clicked into place. jeff's name didn't match the rest of the handwriting because he wasn't the author. your best friend was.
"what are you doing?" shauna's familiar voice echoed in the room, pulling your gaze to her figure at the door. she didn't have the same unbothered demeanor as she did at school; now, she appeared frightened. her attempt at a low, threatening tone faltered, and all you could see was a scared looking kid in her eyes.
"what is this?" you countered, holding a piece of paper between your fingers as you rose from her bed. extending it toward shauna, you expected her to defend herself, but she remained unfazed. she didn't even need to look; she knew exactly what it was.
"It's nothing," she said sharply, swiping the letter from your fingers without bothering to look at it. "this is private. since when do you think it's okay to snoop through my belongings without asking?"
"since when it's okay for you to lie to me?" silence. she doesn't say a word.
"you acted so weirdly when i told you about jeff and i thought you were just jealous but you already knew about them cause you wrote all of this!"
"no, i..." her voice dwindled, grappling for words. you observed her eyes soften and become watery, yet somehow, there was still a lingering anger buried in there.
"what? you thought it would be fun to mock me? i thought we were friends!"
"we are! it's complicated you don't understand!"
"and whose fault is that?" your voice, previously charged with annoyance, gradually regains its usual composure as memories of the last heated argument flood back. you had come here to mend things, but how exactly were you supposed to do that now?
"jeff asked me to help him. he didn't know how to talk to you and we had a class in common and-"
"oh my god, shauna!" you groaned, hands instinctively rising to cover your eyes briefly in frustration. "and you just decided everything for me? like i was some type of character in your journal that you could decide its faith?"
"I had to! do you know how incredibly annoying it is to think about you every single day?" it was her turn to raise her voice now. her expression was a tumult of emotions—anger, sadness, desperation, fear. her face flushed with emotion, nostrils flared and cheeks tinged red. "maybe if you had a boyfriend, everything would stop!" she yelled, finally releasing her pent-up feelings.
her words brought you to a halt. there was nothing left to say. your expression of disappointment turned into an empty canvas, nothing but a void where words failed to form, and, for shauna, this was worse than seeing you sad. she couldn't read you.
"what do you mean?"
"you still don't get it, do you?" shauna's sigh was heavy as she approached, flinging the letter onto the bed. "why do you think i wrote all that? i couldn't stand the idea of jeff's disgusting hands all over you, but it was the only way i could make this horrible feeling to stop!" her voice cracked, a mix of whining and huskiness, tears trailing down her cheeks. it was hard to discern whether it was anger, sadness, or perhaps even relief.
"shauna..." your voice came out in a soft murmur, barely audible. "do you-"
"have feelings for you?" she cut in, taking a deep, shaky breath amidst her tears. "do you usually write love letters for your friends if you don't have feelings for them?"
with her words preempting any possible questions, a bunch of thoughts raced through your mind in the span of a single heartbeat. shauna had feelings for you and she wasn't the only one. the ache of separation even during just a week without talking, the tender and way too friendly gestures like legs entwined while watching movies, how she truly adored you, evident in the small details like bringing you your favorite ice cream even if she hated it, were insignificant to some but meant everything to you.
despite all odds and against shauna's every expectation, you seize her by the collar of her flannel shirt, drawing her closer until your foreheads touch. "don't you ever make me kiss jeff again just so you can hide your feelings and avoid me," you whisper, your gaze shifting between her dark eyes and rosy lips.
setting aside her initial shock, shauna's hands, shaky and unsure, eventually settle on your waist, holding you close as if afraid you might slip away. "it's a deal. was it that bad?" she giggles through tears and the quite silly and adorable view makes you smile.
with one hand firmly gripping her shirt to keep her close, you use the other to gently reach up to her face, wiping a tear from her cheek with your thumb. "you really have no idea," you chuckle softly before closing the gap between you entirely and pressing your lips against hers.
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On a bright, clear morning, our art class gets permission from the principal to embark on a trip to the park. It’s an exciting prospect to us students, a trek all the way across the road from school, totaling a distance of one hundred metres from the back gates. It feels every bit as exciting as our fourth year school tour to Rome.
It’s cold, but there is the slightest tinge of spring in the air, and though the grass and the earth is damp I find a place to sit nestled among the newly sprouted wild flowers because I think it might be nice to try and draw them, but also because Michelle and Evan were sitting here first and Jen still has me on a mission to befriend them.
“Pay attention to the colours when you’re doing your drawings today,” Ms. O’Reilly says, “Oftentimes things aren’t as they seem when you really look at them. Yes, the grass is green, but can’t you see yellow there too? Blue in the shade? There’s a whole range of values and hues that you don’t see at first glance, nor will you unless you take the time to really observe and take it all in.”
“That’s how you should think of me,” I nudge Michelle, “Like the grass. I’m not just green, I’m shades of blue and yellow too.”
She rolls her eyes, “Oh wow, so now you’re a poet.”
“I knew you’d think that, and you know what? It comes naturally to me, I’m just that kind of person.”
I catch her smirking before she turns her face away and pretends to be interested in what Evan is drawing in his sketchbook. “What’s that?” She asks him, and he flips his hair out of his eyes, “the drain. I think it’s more interesting than the trees and shit, you know? Like, that juxtaposition of the man made in the middle of nature.”
I snort, “I take it back, I’m not the poetic one after all. Wow, that’s deep. I never thought of a drain into the sewer in those terms before.”
His shoulders stiffen, “Hey, what are you getting smart for? Didn’t you get detention a few weeks ago for vomiting on the floor in Mr. Doherty’s class?”
I won’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his rudeness as such, so I laugh, “Nah, man, rumour. I did throw up, but not on the floor. I was hungover,” A shrug, “What can you do, huh?”
Michelle huffs out a laugh, “Surprised you didn’t see each other in detention. Jude is the only person I know who has to go more often than you, Evan.”
“I’ve got detention again yesterday” he boasts, and I indulge him, “For what?”
There’s a satisfied glint in his eye, “Fireworks.”
“Where?”
“Just in my locker.”
“No way,” I let out a squawk of a laugh, “I got caught for that once too.”
He glances around awkwardly, unable to decide if I’m engaging genuinely with him or taking the piss again, “Really?” He says with cautious interest, “When?”
“Oh, like a few years ago. Second year I think, sometime around Halloween, but someone ratted me out,” I jokingly jab my thumb at Michelle who gasps in outrage, “It wasn’t me! Jen and I knew about it but we didn’t say anything! I don’t know who it was.”
Evan rests his pencil on the page, “What were you going to do with them?”
“I hadn’t decided yet.”
“Me neither,” he says, actually smiling, “I was just storing them. Actually, I turned myself in once they made that announcement that someone was seen with them. I didn’t want them going through my locker or anything, like, doing the whole search operation thing.”
“Yeah, who knows what might be in there.”
“For sure,” he goes back to drawing his drain and I begin to sketch in the petals of a crocus flower next to my shoe. After another short moment his curiosity gets the better of him, “Hey, what’s the worst thing you ever got detention for?”
I chuckle, “When I was twelve I set a fire in the boy’s bathroom.”
An incredulous pause, “That was you?”
“Yeah, like, it was an accident though. I’m not an arsonist.”
“Yeah that was wild,” Michelle muses, “I remember having to keep it a secret, because Jen and I knew but nobody else did. We weren’t even supposed to know it. You remember how the school made us all go to an assembly about it and they brought that fireman in?”
Evan nudges her with his elbow, “You knew who it was the whole time? You never said!”
“I’m a good secret keeper!”
He looks at me with intrigue, “What happened? What’s the real story?”
“So I was skipping class. I used to get really bored in Mr. White's History so I hid in the toilets and then when I was there I guess I realised I didn’t have anything to do. I had this lighter in my bag that I’d found in the yard, so I started lighting little pieces of toilet paper on fire, you know, just to watch them burn up and turn into nothing, but if it got too crazy I’d just extinguish them in the toilet. Anyway, I got carried away and decided to light the whole toilet roll on fire and then,” I shrug, “you know the rest, I suppose.”
“I remember that day so well, do you-” he cackles, “-do you remember how they didn’t replace the toilet paper dispenser for the whole year? It was just this big hunk of melted plastic stuck to the wall of the stall.”
“Really? Nah, man, I didn't go back into that stall ever again. That’s hilarious.”
“You mean to this day? Five years later?”
“Yeah, seriously! I can’t face it, it just brings me right back there, to getting screamed at in the principal's office and then them calling my parents and all…” the jovial spirit in me falters and this memory, “...who, um, weren’t happy about it and all. Uh, but the main thing was that we talked the principal out of expelling me. I got suspended for a week and then a month straight of detention instead, so it worked out okay.”
“And you talked them out of expulsion…?” Evan prompts.
“Oh, you know, I’m just good at bullshitting,” I say vaguely, though the reality was that I sat at the principal’s desk, my body racked with breathless, terrified sobs until I almost puked, snot pouring down my face, swearing on my pre-teen life that it was an accident until they let me off easy out of pure pity alone.
I concentrate on my crocuses for a while while Michelle and Evan draw too, the three of us in content silence while Ms. O'Reilly walks around the group to look at our work. “Beautiful,” She says of mine, and the compliment fills my insides with such joy and acceptance that I can’t hide it from my face.
“Who’s the teacher’s pet now?” Michelle mutters as Ms. O’Reilly moves on.
“Jealous?”
“No.”
“Can I see yours?”
“Why, so you can gloat?”
“No, c’mon, I’m curious.”
She sighs and tilts her sketchbook to me so that I can see the trees she has drawn. She has a soft line, feminine, cautious and a little shaky, but she’s captured the scene nicely, how the spindly, bare branches of the chestnut tree cut through the clouds and frame a hazy February sky.
“That’s lovely,” I say. “Not that I’m surprised, you’ve always been a good drawer.”
She looks at her work doubtfully, “I’m not sure, I think I fucked up the scale of some things.”
“Nah, you’d hardly notice.”
“Hm.”
“When did you change your mind about art school?”
“Huh?”
“I thought you wanted to pursue it. I remember you saying that a while back.”
She scoffs, “Oh yeah, years ago. It’s not a practical choice though. What am I going to do with an art degree? Work in McDonalds? I think it’s better that I go for something with more prospects like, um, law or business or medicine.”
I smile, “Yeah. Okay. I think that’s your dad talking.”
“That’s what I think,” Evan pipes up, “Don’t I always say it, Michelle? They’re all boring choices, and you are so not boring. You’re a creative soul.”
“Aw, thanks baby.”
It takes all of my willpower to resist pulling a face. Baby? I almost say something about how horrendous it is for me to be subjected to their emo love before I remember that my task is to be nice to them. It’s going so well, I shouldn’t jeopardise it no matter how tempting.
“Hey,” she spins back to me, “Can I see that drawing you did of me in class? You never showed me in the end.”
“Well, you didn’t ask,” I flip a few pages back and hold it up to her, her own face, a direct, impatient gaze and mouth slightly pursed in concentration. She stares at it like she’s gazing into a mirror.
“You made me look very pretty,” She decides after several moments.
I steal a glance at her. It’s not difficult to, because she is very pretty, she’s always been that way as long as I've known her with those deep, dark brown eyes and heart shaped face. It is her personality and attitude in the last couple of years that's the real pity. I smirk, “Well, you know, I appreciate you saying that, because it really wasn’t easy for me…”
“God, you’re insufferable,” she complains, rolls her eyes and turns away.
I go back to my crocuses.
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After Each Midnight Begins A New Day
Extra #14 - 'In-Law' is a Two Word Horror Story
SangCheng Week Day 1: Family [In-laws]
[Masterpost] [AO3]
“Be nice to him, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang reminds him for what must be the thousandth time. And that in addition to Meng Yao and Lan Xichen telling him the same, though thankfully by virtue of distance Lan Xichen has had to do it by post and is therefore limited to being able to say it only as many times as he’s willing to send a letter. (That number is still higher than Nie Mingjue would like in this particular case, although the bright side is that it’s more letters from Lan Xichen and his admonishing only takes up a very small amount of space on a page, which leaves plenty of room for other, better things.)
But anyways, back to the point, which is – “I’m always nice,” Nie Mingjue grumbles. “A-Yao, tell him I’m always nice.”
“This Meng Yao apologizes, but the habit of refraining from telling lies while within Cloud Recesses has not yet worn off, which unfortunately makes meeting Zongzhu’s request impossible.”
“You –!” Nie Mingjue is stopped from any further movement towards Meng Yao’s self-satisfied, unfairly attractive little smirk by his brother hanging off his arm with a whine.
“Da-ge! They’ll be here any minute to start the negotiations, will you please promise me you won’t try to scare him off?”
“I won’t!” Nie Mingjue snaps, beginning to grow genuinely irritated. He’s not some raging boar ready to charge at a moment’s notice! And what older brother wouldn’t be protective after finding out he sent his didi away to summer school only for said didi to come back with a boyfriend?! One who hadn’t even helped him pass his classes, at that!
“A-Sang,” Meng Yao begins with gentle censure. “I believe you may be focusing your energy in the wrong place. Need I remind you that your mother-in-law to be is the Violet Spider? If anything, a bit of intimidation on your side will likely not be unwanted when negotiations begin.”
“Ah..” Nie Mingjue spares a glance down at his brother still hanging off his elbow to find he looks a little ashen all the sudden, eyes faraway and sort of glassy. “Da-ge, I have suddenly had a marvelous idea. Why don’t you draw Baxia and just…just have her ah..ready to go.”
Nie Mingjue snorts and shakes Nie Huaisang off his arm (gently, because yes, he is in fact capable of that) just in time for the portcullis to begin lifting. Meng Yao stands at flawless attention just behind his right shoulder, Nie Huaisang does his best to stand straight at his left, and Nie Mingjue concedes enough to his flaky little brother’s demands to cross his arms over his chest and attempt to convey how much he’s not entirely thrilled about this whole…situation. Thing. But without being completely off-putting. Hopefully.
Ugh. Betrothals. What a headache!
-/-
“You are not to speak even if spoken to,” Madam Yu barks as she strides forward, leaving everyone (except Yinzhu and Jinzhu) to scramble in the wake of her fluttering skirts of purple and teal, the finest fabrics dyed with the best dyes Lotus Pier has to offer. “That goes doubly for you, Wei Wuxian, it’s bad enough this must be done during your season in Lotus Pier in the first place. Do not ruin this for A-Cheng or I will post whatever little remains of your body back to Lan Wangji in a box no wider than three cun on every side.”
“Yes, Auntie Jiang,” Wei Wuxian intones at the same time Jiang Cheng manages a slightly beleaguered, “Mother,” that’s just shy of a whine.
Madam Yu ignores him as they hurry through the empty space between where they’d stopped the traveling party a polite distance away from Nie territory and the imposing façade of the Unclean Realm looming ahead of them. Jiang Cheng feels himself quail a little at the sight of it, intimidated despite the times he’s visited before as a child and thought little of it. He wasn’t approaching it back then as the hopeful fiancé of its young master, after all, and the stakes are dizzyingly higher now that that is in fact the case. Somehow a summer spent carefully courting Nie Huaisang and letting the other boy enthusiastically court him right back in every shameless way imaginable didn’t quite translate into marriage negotiations between two extremely powerful families in his mind.
“You had the right idea before, A-Xian,” Jiang Cheng mutters out of the corner of his mouth when they’re standing in front of the gates, waiting to be admitted.
“Ah? When? This almost never happens, be specific so I can gloat properly A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian whispers back and Jiang Cheng can hear that his brother is grinning (though he refuses to give him the satisfaction of looking over to see it for himself).
“Getting engaged as a kid. Everyone just did the negotiations without you and you got to skip all this bullshit.”
“I said to keep your mouth shut, Wei Wuxian!” Madam Yu snaps when Wei Wuxian snorts too loudly to contain it, and he’s still unsuccessfully attempting to hide more giggling behind his hand as the portcullis rises in front of them.
Jiang Cheng’s heart – already pounding a little out of rhythm just from seeing the exterior of the Unclean Realm – kicks into an even higher gear when the first person he spots is Nie Mingjue standing there waiting for them and looking absolutely thunderous as he does it. Was he always so tall?! Jiang Cheng immediately can’t help but think of all the things he and Nie Huaisang got up to over the summer with absolutely no one around to chaperone them and he swears it must all be spelled out in big fat calligraphy right on his forehead for the way Nie Mingjue’s scowl deepens when he meets his eyes.
“Dibs on having the scariest in-laws,” he whispers a little desperately, needing some kind of reassurance from his brother despite how often he asserts that he’s grown now and doesn’t need anyone to look after him, especially not his stupid brother.
“No deal,” Wei Wuxian mutters back as greetings and bows are exchanged all around with perfect poise. “I’ve got Lan-Xiansheng for an in-law, and we’ve been having tea once every week that I spend in Cloud Recesses since I was ten. I win by default.”
Jiang Cheng sneers a little at that but can’t deny that Wei Wuxian makes a good point. He forces himself to look away from Nie Mingjue – his future brother-in-law – to look at the reason he’s doing all of this in the first place…only to find Nie Huaisang staring in wide-eyed terror at the Violet Spider in all her blistering ‘Yu-furen’ glory. He sneaks a glance at Wei Wuxian out of the corner of his eye only to find his brother doing the same, and when he whispers, “Actually, I think A-Sang wins this one,” Wei Wuxian just nods back at him with wide eyes.
“Auntie Jiang for a mother-in-law…” he whispers in awe as they’re lead into the Nie fortress for the welcoming banquet that’s set to precede the first round of negotiating. “Nie-xiong must really love you.”
Jiang Cheng flushes scarlet under his layers of collars to hear it said out loud so plainly, but when Nie Huaisang sneaks a glance back at him over his shoulder to offer him a little smile and a flutter of his fan, he has to admit that maybe his idiot brother makes another good point.
Maybe Nie Huaisang does really love him.
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I Can't Stop Comparing Things to How to Raise a Boring Girlfriend
Starting in August 2022 I began a long marathon of catching up on my anime backlog. The second show I watched was Saenai Heroine no Sodatekata (How to Raise a Boring Girlfriend, henceforth Saekano). At the time, I had only watched the first season, so this was me re-watching that and catching up on the rest. I was not ready for what happened next. A saucy show about making a visual novel while surrounded by hot chicks made a sudden turn into an emotionally devastating story about growing as an artist and how easy it is for people to hurt one another and much more. It was powerful. It both made me need to stop and take a look at myself and stay up until 2AM to finish it. I need to talk about it.
A note on the title: "heroine" here is officially translated "girlfriend", but a more useful translation would be "main female love interest".
Summary
Our male viewpoint character, Tomoya Aki, has a fateful encounter with a girl that inspires him to create a galge around her. He recruits his two very talented classmates, artist Eriri Spencer Sawamura and writer Utaka Kasumigaoka. When he realizes that his muse is actually the hopelessly normal Megumi Katou, he resolves to bring her into the circle anyway.
With this premise out of the way, the show kicks off a harem story. The core plotline keeps the count of ladies stable at three. When a fourth is introduced as his cousin late in season 1 and the OH NO alerts go off, don't worry - this has not become an incest anime, she's just here to help with the actual plot. The amount of fanservice is significant, but it's not the sole focus of the show. Had it continued like this, it would have been a well-executed example of the genre and probably sat at 8/10.
But then season 2 happens, and the game comes out in time for Comiket... barely. Things didn't go as well as they could have, and not everyone is quite satisfied with the result. There were even some emotional bruises along the way. Tomoya resolves to give it another shot. At this point... well I don't want to spoil things in detail. This is the moment where Saekano takes a hard left turn into drama. It starts artistically managing the viewer's understanding of each character's point of view. It uses indirection and suspense to build up to one emotional gut punch after another. It allows the characters, and you, to wallow in the impact of what happens. It moves the theme of artistic fulfillment from background to front and center.
From here, I went from merely enjoying myself to absolutely hooked. In many harem shows you can find yourself writhing in pain as it draws out every possible step of progress and then snatches them back. In Saekano, you instead feel genuinely worried, deep down, that things will not work out at all and everyone will be left broken into pieces or incomplete. There are twists - but they're not bullshit romcom twists to make things worse for no reason. Characters hurt each other, unnecessarily and unintentionally but sometimes necessarily and knowingly. No one is forgiven for free. When things do get better, they leave scars. There are antagonists, but even characters who act like heels get empathy and you come to understand them, if not agree with their actions.
Wait, I need to talk about the characters more.
Tomoya enters the picture as the character for the male target audience to imprint on. Eriri is a tsundere with all the option boxes checked - twintails, S-class absolute territory, relatively short, modestly endowed. Utaka is cool, collected, cunning, and cutting. You know the type, she never forgets a slight and makes sure you don't either. Megumi is... um. Megumi is... well she's uh... huh. You riffle through all your binders full of women and she's nowhere to be found. Dandere? No, she's plenty willing to speak her mind when needed. Kuudere? I mean sorta, she knows how to deploy sarcasm, but it's not like she's an ice queen.
No, Megumi, as introduced, is a nothing in particular. How can you base a story on a character without a trope to use as a foundation? Tomoya is at a loss, and if you are used to nothing but remixes of *deres in assorted hair colors and slightly different school uniforms, you are too. I guess instead of stamping a label on her, you're just going to need to get to know her. So let's try.
In many stories, you get to know a character and then you get to see them change. Indeed, that's what happens with every character in Saekano - except Megumi. Eriri has trouble drawing her, because you can't see all of her at once. Instead, like the characters in the show, you have to pull together what you do see and create an image of a complete whole in your mind. You turn to compare your model to the original and... it's a bit off. She's changed. Indeed, she has been changing since the beginning. Even your starting snapshot is a bit blurred. Megumi doesn't move too fast to catch up to - but she is always moving, so you can't quite hold on to what you catch.
Megumi is nothing in particular. Instead, she's herself. Kind but not endlessly selfless. Tolerant but not without limits. Influence from others doesn't fill her like some empty vessel, it just adds to what was already there. Neither clay nor brick, neither water nor ice, not a mere object of affection nor a prize to be won. Megumi Kato is nothing in particular, just like you and I aren't anything in particular either. We're just people.
What is love?
Saekano doesn't believe in love at first sight. You aren't destined for someone just because you saw them from the bottom of a hill. It then spends two seasons and a movie teaching us, and its characters, what it thinks love actually is.
Saekano says love isn't an event, nor a straight road from one place to another. It's not even a maze, with many branching paths but one entrance and exit. Life is a forest, and everyone stumbles through the forest in their own way. You may walk together with someone for a time - but when your paths diverge you will find that love is more than being together. Love is when you change your paths and come together. Your paths are still your own - but you stay close enough to hold hands. Love is knowing whose hand you want to hold.
Conclusion
Saekano is not perfect. There are some weak points, even once the fanservice mostly ends in favor of drama. There are a couple of potentially heart-wrenching twists that turn out to be joke setups, which can hurt your trust a bit. The big theme of personal growth in your art does tie into the romance plot, but they don't blend entirely seamlessly. Early on Tomoya does fulfill some of the tropes of "why does anyone like this guy in the first place," which can be off-putting if your tolerance for that kind of shitty protagonist is low. I assure you that this time, the reason he starts low is to give him room to grow high, and that he does.
But... If you're an artist (by which I mean you express yourself in any creative medium, including writing, music etc.) you should probably watch it. If you've ever burned yourself out, created the best work of your life, and then wondered if it was worth it, this is something you should watch. If you have ever wondered if you've plateaued and had to rediscover your motivation to improve, this show is for you too. Likewise if you've ever hurt someone unintentionally and had to earn back their trust. Or if you've had to hurt someone because the alternative was losing a part of yourself. Or if you've been hurt in that way, and needed to pull yourself back together. If you have ever felt like you were accidentally abusing someone's feelings for you, or allowed your own feelings for someone to be abused, or or or or...
Score: 9/10. It tried to do a great many things, and it did those things. It wobbled a bit getting there. This is almost as close as you can get to a 10 without being there.
Recommendation: Power level requirement is fairly high, so I can’t hard recommend it to everyone. It has a lot of anime tiddy early on, the protagonist starts out as a bit of a shit, and you will miss some things if you're not deep enough in anime culture. Out of the gate it wears the same hat as a harem anime. It does pull troll tricks maybe one or two times too many. If you can, I urge you to look past all that. Just... watch How To Raise A Boring Girlfriend.
Final Thoughts
Oh right, I should explain the title. At the time I finished Saekano, I was maintaining that there could only be one 10/10 anime, and it was Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann: Lagann-hen. Saekano was so good I had to go back and watch my top rated shows again to compare. This started the train of thought that led to On Rating Anime, and "Perfection" and caused me to re-rate Toradora and Angel Beats up to 10. For the rest of the marathon, I found that something in almost everything I watched caused me to think of Saekano, so it led me to start comparing anime to similar ones... particularly Saekano. At this point it's become a personal meme to find a way to compare things to it, in at least some small way.
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Are your "thoughts on Teacher's Pet" still open? If so, I'm the person that was way past bedtime, so just dropping to say that I can't stop thinking about how Natasha would make -as a punishment- Reader use a vibrator during class and how she would tease her???
hi anon that doesn’t like their bedtime… this is me wishing you a merry christmas/ happy holidays ;)
Warnings: little on the dark side, light degradation/ public sex, vibrator, crying as a sexual release, punishment, (18+)
Read Teacher’s Pet
minors are NOT allowed on my blog(s)
DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS. NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO DO SO
As you got more comfortable with pleasure, god did you become a menace. You haven’t even fucked yet and you’re acting like bitch in heat.
Whenever you would bump into Natasha you would kiss her harder, moan louder, and beg faster. You’re needy and horny. Something you wanted to fix.
When she sat in her chair, you found yourself straddling her lap without her telling you to. You pushed her hands to your breasts and shoved them under your skirt. You begged between kisses and rocked against the strap contained between her legs. She wore it knowing the day would come soon, but didn’t know when. Better to be safe than sorry.
“Not now. I’m trying to grade some things. I’m already behind. I don’t look forward to all the messages I get when I’m late. You know that, bunny.”
“Please, Natasha.” You’re out of breath and only want her lips and tongue on you. You completely disregard her reason as to why she wants you to step away. She can’t focus with you near.
“Enough, bunny,” Natasha sighs twirling the red pen in her hand. She tries her best to ignore the way your hands run down her back and massage her shoulders.
Pushing her hair back to have more access, your lips find the side of her as you block out her protests. Her groans turn into soft moans but they don’t last long before she warns you for the last time.
“Don’t be a bad girl,” she warns. Her warning is weak with the soft moan that escapes her lips when you reach a sweet spot.
“But I want you.”
“You want me?” She questions suspiciously but you don’t question it.
You nod and moan out when Natasha pushes to sit on her chair. She stands above you, forcing your legs open with the help of the chair’s arm rests. Your heart skips a beat when you see her rest for the special drawer in her office.
A small pink toy rests on her hand, ones you have only seen in porn videos. A toys you’ve always wanted to try but never did since you had Natasha. She was more than enough to keep you satisfied, unless you have been craving more.
Her fingers slip through your soak folds. She’s genuinely shocked as to how wet you are. You weren’t lying when you said you were wet. With little to no preparation, Natasha pushes the toy inside you. It’s not like you needed the foreplay, but still you were disappointed she barely touched you.
“Touch me,” you whine pushing your bottom lip out and give her the best puppy eyes you have. You do look tempting, legs spread out with your panties pushed to the side and skirt flipped up. Your pussy is soaked and looks sort of cute with the silicone string sticking out.
“Pink looks good in you,” Natasha says as she fixes your panties and pulls you to stand up. Just like you ignored her protests, she ignores your begs. You feel a bit wobbly consider there’s weight inside you and you have to focus hard to keep it there.
You open your mouth to say something; however, Natasha is quick to put a hand over your mouth. “Let me finish or you won’t, Understand?”
You nod.
“This is going to be your punishment, bunny. I told you more than three times. You know the rules. You’re going to sit in my next class without saying a goddamn word. I don’t want to hear anything from you.”
-
“Forgive me if I seem distracted, class. I have to check my phone every once in a while. I’m waiting for a text.”
The class brushes her light apology, but you, you know what that meant. You sat in the first row with your legs separated. You knew if you moved to close them the vibrations would only get higher. Whenever you seem too distracted Natasha would boost up the setting earning your attention.
Your eyes met hers when her hands land on her phone. You could the way her thumb dancing on the screen and feel the pleasure surge in the pit of your stomach.
Your panties are soaked through and Natasha knows because she can see them. Whenever she wrote something on the board she would sneak a glance between your legs while her other students were busy scrambling to write their notes. Natasha also saw the small movement you had going on in your chair.
You were rocking your hips to the vibrations. Your eyelids were heavy and hands tugged on your skirt. Moans threat to slip when a particular rush hit you out of no where. That’s when you notice Natasha swiped the setting even higher… and left it there.
You pleaded her to stop with your eyes. Natasha isn’t blind. She knew you were about to come. She knew you haven’t had the proper training to hold it no matter how hard you tried, but she also knew how much you didn’t listen.
You needed this.
You needed to learn.
Your hands slap over your mouth to trap your moans. The vibrations were too much too fast. You jerk to sit straight and slumped in your chair when the toy pressed against your G-spot. You’re coming.
You shake when the unmistakable satisfaction you’ve finally got. Your muscles spasm around the small toy leaving you to fight to urge to scream. The vibrations are still strong and signal another orgasm.
“Fuck.”
“Excuse me, Y/LN. Is there something wrong?” Natasha is cocky and almost seems offended that you interrupted her class, but you knew better. She’s putting you on the spot. Right when you are about to come again.
“I’m sorry.”
She almost believed you. She knew what you were apologizing for. You were bad. You didn’t listen. You finally understood that this was your punishment.
There’s whispers behind you that made you want to cry. Whisper on how the ‘innocent teacher’s pet’ just interrupted Mrs. Romanoff’s class with a single word. A word she didn’t like - it was stated in the syllabus.
They were shocked it was you. Not even the worse in the class dared to speak out of line in her class. Not only that you didn’t have your book in front you. You were simply sitting there letting all the information slip from one ear and out the other.
“I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry, Ms. Romanoff.” You’re praying. You’re praying to the gods, whoever they are, that no one can hear the shake in your voice or the sobs stuck in your throat.
Natasha says nothing, but she gives you a soft look. A look you know that she understood. She’s pushed you to your limit. She gives you an invisible nod before she calls everyone’s attention.
Her thumb puts an end to the quiet torture and you sigh in relief. You bury your heated face in your hands and let the tears fall. There’s nothing sad about your cry. Sure you were embarrassed and slightly humiliated, but you’re a big girl. You can handle that. It was the sudden stop in the vibrations brought you more pleasure then the actual orgasm.
You don’t even notice the way the room has emptied out. You flinch when you feel Natasha pet the top of your head.
“I’m sorry, Natasha,” You cried wrapping your arms around her waist the best you could sitting trapped in your desk and only half her body sitting on your desk.
“I know, bunny.” She soothes you softly. “We won’t do it again.”
“No! No, no I liked it,” you struggled to say clearly with you mouth pressed against her stomach. “I just want to be good for you. I don’t want to be bad. I’ll listen next time.”
Natasha chuckles before kissing your forehead. Her lips stay there longer than a typically kiss. You almost liked it too much. Maybe loved it.
You loved her touch.
You love her.
Make sure to reblog my work!
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Enough (Shangqi x f!reader)
Shangqi x f!reader
Content: a little bit of angst, fluff at the end, Shangqi being such a damn sweetheart
Word Count: 1.3k
Babyboiboyega’s Marvel Masterlist
*********
Y/N’s movements were a little slower than usual as she dodged, kicked, and punched, and it was obvious, especially to her. It was obvious, and it frustrated her to no end as she continued to move around the mat.
The slight throbbing in her temple she had woken up with had only gotten worse as the day went on, and it continued to do so the more she exerted herself.
She tried to hide the pain behind a grimace, but under the guise of being focused, but she had a slight suspicion that he could see right through her. This only prompted her to intensify her actions, trying to come off as fine when in reality, the pressure in her head was close to debilitating.
She knew that she should have stopped and told him what was wrong, but the stubborn, reckless side of her won out. And that was exactly what she was doing: being incredibly reckless.
A grunt left her mouth as she was pushed back, her feet stumbling over each other.
“Y/N, what’s going on with you tonight? You’re a little slower than usual.”
Shangqi’s voice rang out, a teasing lilt to it as he gazed at her with his hands on his hips. His eyebrows were furrowed in genuine worry as she bent at the waist, bracing herself against her knees.
With every breath she took came another painful throb in her temple, and even with her eyes squeezed shut, she could feel her head spinning.
Hearing her labored breaths and noticing her silence, Shangqi walked closer, the small smile on his face dropping.
“Hey, what’s wrong? We can take a break. We should take a break.”
At his words, Y/N shook her head slowly before straightening. The wince that she tried to hide did not go unnoticed.
“I’m fine. Let’s go again.”
Shangqi’s head tilted and his eyes narrowed slightly, this time with suspicion.
“Y/N, there’s nothing wrong with taking a break. Maybe get a sip of water-”
“I’m fine, Shangqi, okay? I’m...I’m good.”
The conviction in her voice was enough for him to slowly nod his head before taking stance. His eyes watched her carefully as she did the same, and once he was satisfied that she was ready, he resumed their dance around each other.
He threw easily avoidable hits while still watching the way she reacted. Her eyebrows were pinched in concentration as she blocked his hits, her feet moving in the way he had taught her.
For a brief moment, she felt pride and forgot about the pain that gripped her head. All of the sparring lessons were culminating into something she was proud of.
But then Shangqi had to throw a punch while simultaneously going for her exposed bottom half.
She had managed to block the hit, but she had been too oblivious of her open leg area.
Y/N felt herself falling and managed to right her foot enough to where her impact with the mat was more controlled. An almost embarrassing “oof” fell from her lips as she quite literally landed on her ass.
It only took a few seconds for Shangqi to approach her, his hand held out to help her up.
“We’re taking a break. I’ll go get your water.”
The finality of his words paired with her own frustration resulted in a pang of anger quickly running through her.
She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up quickly, her mouth forming words of insistence that only dissipated as black spots crowded her vision.
She rapidly blinked her eyes, but only seemed to make it worse. The pain in her head had decided to make itself known once again, and it came with a vengeance.
This time, she couldn’t stop the small groan from escaping her mouth as her hand raised and gripped her head.
The pain was unbearable now, akin to having one’s head slammed into a metal pole without the relief of eventually passing out. She could feel the throbbing at the base of her neck, and the pain had started to make her stomach churn.
She should have listened to him. She should have stopped earlier.
Y/N hadn’t realized that she was swaying, leaning a little too far in one direction, until she felt soft, calloused hands land on her arms.
“Y/N...Y/N, talk to me. What’s going on?”
As she spoke, Shangqi gently guided her down until she was safely kneeling on the floor, no longer swaying on her feet. He wasted no time in kneeling in front of her, his hands moving to cup her face.
“Come on, take deep breaths. Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Y/N spoke quietly and through clenched teeth, her hand continuing to put pressure against her temple.
“Migraine.”
The sigh that left Shangqi’s mouth was sympathetic as he rubbed her cheek. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss against her forehead before slowly rising and bringing her with him.
He had no trouble supporting her weight as he led her in the direction of his room, leaving the open space behind them.
In reality, it had only taken a minute or so to get to Shangqi’s room, but every step had felt like 10 to Y/N. She was acutely aware of Shangqi turning off every light as they walked, and if she weren’t so busy making sure her lunch stayed down, she would have expressed her love and gratitude for his actions.
She simply let Shangqi guide her to wherever she needed to go, knowing and trusting without a doubt that he would take care of her.
He only proceeded to prove her right as he wasted no time in walking her towards his bed and gently lowering her onto it. As soon as she was situated, he quietly walked around the bed and turned off every remaining light, the tv, and even closed the blinds.
In only a span of a few seconds, he had grabbed a glass of water and the medicine she had left at his place for a situation exactly like this.
“Y/N, here’s your medicine. Come on, babe. I just need you to take this real quick.”
With an agonized groan and her eyes still tightly shut, Y/N slowly sat up. Her hands blindly reached out, prompting Shangqi to drop her pill into her hand followed by the glass of water. She took the medicine quickly and without hesitation, before holding it out once more.
Shangqi’s hands shot out, one grabbing the glass while the other gently landed on her back, keeping her from laying back down.
A noise between a soft cry and a groan left Y/N’s mouth at being stopped, but the slight annoyance she had quickly dissipated as Shangqi gently crawled into bed in front of her.
All while whispering apologies to her, he maneuvered their bodies to where they could lay down with Y/N completely covering his body with her own.
There had been a question on the tip of her tongue as he had moved them, but it all made sense when his hands raised and started massaging her temples, gingerly but with enough pressure to ease the pain.
She felt his lips touch her hair, and it made a lone tear slip from her tear line. The tears that formed as a result of pain only fell as a result of being cared and loved for.
But Shangqi had interpreted the new tear stain on his shirt as one of pain. He spoke softly with his lips pressed to her head.
“I know. I know, I’m sorry I can’t do more.”
His words made her arms tighten where they were wound around his torso. As she spoke, more tears fell from her eyes.
“You do more than enough, Shangqi. You’re more than enough.”
********
I hope you all enjoyed this! Like I said, this is a comfort fic that I really wrote for myself, but decided to post it here! I do deal with chronic migraines, and with every migraine comes a great disdain for everyone in the immediate vicinity....but I just KNOW that Shangqi would do anything to help me feel better, so I wanted to write it!
This week has been reaaaalllyy tough so far between work, class, and personal issues, so that’s another reason why this is a comfort fic, it helped me escape life while I was writing.
But once again, I hope you all enjoyed this! Please like, reblog, and/or leave a comment. Literally whenever someone leaves a comment, it makes my day!
OH! I’m also thinking about making a tag list! 👀👀
Stay safe, y’all!
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PART 1. A VERY WELL-DESERVED TIP
SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.
PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader
WORD COUNT. 2.0k
GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut
WARNINGS. none in this chapter
A/N. my brief work as a barista is finally paying off. i suffered at sbux all to write this fic ✌︎('ω'✌︎ ) LMAOOO i frl had so much fun writing this and i’m very excited to share the next parts ;) i hope you enjoy this fic as much as i do!! xx sof
SERIES MASTERLIST
© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.
You were not looking forward to your new work schedule for the next month.
The employee who usually came in for opening shifts at four in the morning gave her two weeks notice...two weeks ago. And since you had your availability open (you knew you should’ve blocked it off and said you had morning class), your manager asked you to fill her place.
The night before your first—of many—morning shifts, you tried tricking yourself into thinking it was a good idea. And it almost worked! Sort of.
You told yourself waking up early when the sun rose worked with your body’s natural circadian rhythm and this experience may adjust your sleep schedule for a healthier one in the long run. Better health and wellbeing and lower risks of cardiovascular disease. Or something. You weren’t too sure exactly; you never paid much attention in biology but it sounded like something you’d find in a textbook, right?
When you arrived on your first day, the morning shift was just as hectic and chaotic as you expected. People in business suits with name brand bluetooth earphones in their ears and the latest new smartphone in their hand filled the shop and waited for their online order. It was as if they wanted the least amount of social interaction possible, which would be fine if being able to make connections with customers wasn’t the most interesting part about being a barista.
Although the cafe you worked at was a small business who actually (tried) to pay their employees fairly and wasn’t a purely money hungry franchise like the certain green siren, it surprisingly had gained enough traction in the area to rival one of those cheap, chain stores.
Good for the business, bad for sleepy workers who could barely function in the mornings.
But you enjoyed working here and the owners were kind, so you did your best to shove away the tiredness and put a bright and cheery smile on your face. The customers were grumpier than you were used to, but who wouldn’t be a little ill-mannered having to go to work at 5 a.m. and probably not leaving until 6 p.m. or later because of bosses who overworked them? Trying to get them their morning coffee with an amiable attitude to start off their day right was something you were more than happy to do.
It was too bad barely any of them gave you the time of day. They just wanted to get their caffeine and leave with as little human interaction as possible. It was understandable, of course, but it wasn’t the lively cafe environment you were used to during later shifts. You sighed, hoping the atmosphere would be friendlier when it wasn’t a major rush hour.
“Hi! I can help the next person in line,” you called for the twentieth time this hour. When they moved forward towards the cash register, you gave them a smile. “Good morning. I hope your day has been going well!”
“It’s been okay, thank you. And yours?”
Your eyes widened in surprise and you almost sputtered over thin air. Someone who actually replied back to what you said and asked about you in return? Even if the intent was a courtesy conversation that was meant to be quick and brief, the sentiment was there—the upholding of the values of common courtesy and human decency. Something too many people seemed to lack.
“I’m good as well! A little tired but what’s to be expected a quarter ‘til 6 a.m.?” you said with a laugh. “Thank you for asking.”
The customer gave a small smile in return and you internally celebrated for finally seeing your first pleasant expression this morning. “Must be even more tiring dealing with all these people. Doesn’t seem easy. I have to commend you for it.”
He was a tall, handsome man with a pretty face, soft-looking hair, and genuinely nice? There was no way this was real; you had to be dreaming.
You twiddled with the pen in your hands, taken aback and mildly embarrassed by the praise. “Just doing my job,” you said with a bashful look. “Thank you, though.” You cleared your throat, not wanting to hold the line up for too long, even if the customer was one you would rather keep talking to than the others. “Now, what can I get started for you today?”
“Right. Can I get a flat white in the medium size?”
“Of course.” You typed in his order into the register before asking, “And is there anything else I can get for you? Like a pastry? Today we have some freshly baked cheese danishes that are really yummy if you’d like to try!”
He thought for a while before shrugging. You weren’t sure if it was your eyes playing tricks on you or he actually had an amused look on his face. “Sure, I’ll take a couple dozen of those as well.”
“A couple dozen—?” your voice faltered. The suggestion of a fresh pastry was one you made to almost every customer, though most turned it down on the spot.
The cafe had a little weekly competition between workers to see who could sell the most pastries in the week and the one who sold most got...well, a free pastry and bragging rights. Admittedly, it wasn’t much, but nothing revved up sales like friendly rivalries. An order of a couple dozen was sure to land you in the top spot this week! Still, you had to make sure he meant it. You’d feel bad if he was just spending all his hard-earned office work money because he was trying to be courteous. (Or at least, you assumed he was some office employee.)
You cautiously asked, “Are you sure?”
Either your eyes were playing tricks on you yet again, or the look of amusement on his face grew even more than before as he said, “I’m sure. One medium flat white and, say, three dozen boxes of cheese danishes, please.”
“C-Coming right up!” you said, quickly entering his order and celebrating your free end-of-the-week pastry in advance. “That will be $42.81. Would that be card or cash?”
“Card.” He pulled out a sleek, black card with gold detailings on it and you never knew you could be sexually attracted to a credit card until now.
“Perfect! Go ahead and swipe, insert, or scan your card now. In the meantime, can I get a name for your order please?”
He scanned his card over the machine before looking back up at you. “It’s To— Ah, Shouto.”
“Shouto?” you asked in confirmation. You assumed it wasn’t ‘Toahshouto’. That sounded too much like the abbreviation used to remember how to find sine, cosine, and tangent.
“Yeah. Shouto.”
You smiled. “Well, Shouto, your order will be ready in a few minutes. Please wait over to your right to pick it up!”
He nodded.
“It was nice meeting you!” you called, waving goodbye. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”
“Thank you,” he glanced at your nametag, “Y/N.”
Oh, how nice it felt to be treated like a human by a customer and have them actually address your name— And not to say it in a condescending way either.
“Do individual baristas get to keep the tips here?”
You blinked, feeling your face warm up slightly. “We do, actually.” One of your favorite parts of the job, you had to admit.
“Glad to hear.” Shouto pulled out some crisp-looking bills from his wallet and placed one in your hand that said ‘100’ to you. “Thank you for your kind service, Y/N.���
“Wha—” Your eyes widened. You were expecting something along the line of three dollars. Maybe five at most. But a hundred? By the time you had processed what had happened he was walking away from the cash register. “Wait— Shouto...sir! I think you accidentally gave me the wrong amount.”
He shook his head, only briefly turning back to face you. “Nope. It’s for you,” he said simply. “I’m looking forward to the cheese danishes.”
His words left you stunned, but the next customer in line tapped their foot impatiently, signaling it was now time for you to take their order. You hoped the line died down before Shouto left the cafe so you could return the tip, but seeing as how the queue almost extended out the door, you had the sinking feeling that wouldn’t be a possibility.
“Hello, I can take the next customer in line!” you recited cheerfully, mind still occupied by thoughts of your last encounter.
The next few orders went along uneventfully (though you did manage to sell two more cheese danishes) and by the time Shouto got his coffee and pastry boxes, you still had a handful more customers to get through.
“Pardon me real quick,” you said apologetically to the woman in front of you. “Please give me one moment?”
She graced you with a nod and you thanked the stars above for an understanding patron.
“Wait— Excuse me, sir!” You waved in Shouto’s direction before he could exit the cafe. He glanced at you curiously but walked over. In a hushed voice, you said, “I really appreciate the tip, but there’s no way I could accept this much money from you!”
For the first time today, you say the hints of a frown on his face. “You cannot?”
“No! $100 is a lot! You already bought $40 worth of cheese danish pastries— Are you sure you meant to give that big of a tip?”
“Of course.” He took a sip of his coffee with a satisfied hum. “You getting up at such an early hour to take people’s orders with a kind attitude isn’t easy. Plus, trying to build rapport with each of them all while keeping the interacting swift is a difficult task itself. And it’s probably worth more than your current pay, the $100 tip, and then some.”
You blinked, stunned by his words. This man kept surprising you so many times in just one morning.
“I find it ridiculous how certain occupations are paid an ungodly amount more than others, especially when a lot of it comes from privileges you were born into.” Shouto seemed to mumble the last bit to himself, but you were still able to understand what he said. “It’s bullshit.” Before you could respond, he recollected himself. “Eat the rich, right? All that to say, please accept the tip. You deserve it. And I promise it’s of no detriment to me, so please don’t feel bad.”
Seeing the determined look on his face, you couldn’t help but stare at him before nodding. He didn’t say anything you didn’t already believe yourself, and if someone really wanted to give you $100, you weren’t going to fight them on it. Think of all the dumplings you could buy, you told yourself.
“T-Thank you then.” You gingerly placed the folded bill back into your pants pocket. “I think that was really insightful of you and I’m very grateful.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled before glancing towards the exit. “I’m running a bit late for work now, so I should be going. Have a good day, Y/N.”
“You too, Shouto. And… Thank you again!”
With a glowing expression on your face, you walked back to the cash register ready to face the day and talk to more lovely customers!
“Hey, little barista!” a gruff voice called from the line, snapping you out of your stupor. “Hurry it up already before you force me to complain to your manager.”
You internally sighed. You understood they were in a rush, but they still had no right to be that rude.
“Can you even hear me? Or are you too incompetent?”
Cue another internal sigh.
Yeah, okay. Maybe you did deserve this $100 tip.
Regardless of the rude customers that may have come in, at least you had your thoughts of a cute, kind businessman who went by the name of Shouto to get you through your shift. And you could only hope you’d be able to see him again.
a/n: the end of part one folks!! oh what i’d give to have gotten a tip like this when i worked as a barista BAHAHA only in my dreams. i hope you enjoyed this little intro part and are excited for what’s to come !! :3
what to expect in the next part:
~maybe~ y/n will see shouto again and,,perhaps,,get more tips from him idk who knows
old lady imparts some...helpful(?) advice
we briefly get to see shouto’s pov! ;D
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Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.3)
Chapter III: Abidance
✿ Word Count: 3.2k
✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader
✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Hakkai POV, Y/N POV, Mitsuya POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, minor manga spoilers, slight angst
Awakening from his slumber, he found that the woman was no longer taking up space in his bed. He heaved a sigh of relief, only to, unfortunately, see a message from an unknown number on his phone saying “Text me when you’re free ;)” Ignoring the text, he found he had a message from Hakkai and remembered that he had abandoned him to sleep with that damn woman. However, Hakkai didn’t confront him about it, but instead acted as if nothing happened.
🗨️ Hakkai: Is the party still on for today? (Sent 2:00am)
🗨️ Mitsuya: Yeah, sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t feeling my best, I should have let you know. (Sent 10:00am)
🗨️ Hakkai: No hard feelings. Ya feeling better now Taka-chan? (Sent 10:01am)
🗨️ Mitsuya: Not really, but it’ll pass. What’d you end up doing yesterday after I left? (Sent 10:02am)
Picking up on the subtle curiosity of Mitsuya’s text, it became clear to Hakkai that he did see him with you. As much as he admired Mitsuya, the anger building inside of him got the best of him. Therefore, in response, he chose a reply that he knew would get Mitsuya boiling.
🗨️ Hakkai: Caught Y/N outside of your class, had a wonderful lunch with her! She’s so nice, Taka-chan! Why are ya so mean to her? (Sent 10:04am)
Vigorous fingers typed in reply.
🗨️ Mitsuya: Why the fuck were you hanging around that slut? She’s just gonna try and get in your pants. What did she say to you? (Sent 10:04am)
🗨️ Mitsuya: Hakkai? Hello? (Sent 10:05am)
🗨️ Hakkai: Sorry Taka-chan, I’m back. She didn’t say nuthin bad, actually she was so sweet. She saw I was alone and we both had some tea together back at her place. Ended up sleeping over, I’m still here actually! (Sent 10:05am)
🗨️ Mitsuya: BACK AT HER PLACE? I told you, she’s just trying to get in your pants and you let her win! I can’t believe you let a whore like her win you over, Hakkai! Where the fuck is your brain? She probably was enjoying every minute of your sorry ass. (Sent 10:05am)
🗨️ Hakkai: Who said we slept together, Taka? (Sent 10:05am)
Silence enveloped the room.
🗨️ Mitsuya: Sorry… I just assumed that’s what you meant by sleeping over. (Sent 10:07am)
🗨️ Hakkai: Awh, it’s okie Taka, I know you were only looking out for me. (Sent 10:07am)
Absolutely, looking out for Hakkai. That’s what this was, that’s what he was doing. There couldn’t have been any other reason why he was so upset at the thought of you sleeping together. He was just being a good friend.
-----
┃ “Y/N!” the hoarse voice spoke to you, feeling the smooth cloth of his jacket pressed against your face as you bumped into him.
You looked up only to recognize Hakkai, kind thoughts flooding your mind, diminishing your anger stemming from your interaction with Mitsuya moments before. He grinned at you giddily, eyes relaxing any sort of tension left in your body. You slowly began to forget why you were mad and allowed yourself to indulge in his presence.
┃ “Good afternoon Hakkai! Waiting for Mitsuya?”
┃ “Mhm, you takin’ Designer 101 too, right?”
┃ “Yup! How come you aren’t taking it? You’re very fashionable, y’know?”
┃ “You’re too kind,” He giggled, his grin beginning to somehow grow wider on his cheeks as he raised his hand to pat your head.
┃ “I’m serious! Why don’t you join the class? It’s not too late, the second semester is about to start!” You eagerly pushed on, rejoicing in the positive energy he emitted.
┃ “ ‘m not really into making clothes, just showing them off...” He let out a hefty chuckle before getting cut off by you.
┃ “You don’t have to be good at making them! Some students choose to learn how to stylize different clothing and patterns, it’s all about the latest trends.”
┃ “Really?” He went silent for a few moments, smile morphing into a straight line as he contemplated your words carefully. Not to fret, as his smile quickly returned as he said: “Well then, might have to ask Taka-chan to help me sign up!”
You both shared a laugh and began to discuss the enrollment process in order for Hakkai to join the class-- if he were to drop another class, what class would he drop, or would he simply add it to his current schedule? While your conversation was nothing more than an innocent developing friendship, unbeknownst to you, Mitsuya had witnessed it all and declared it once more another betrayal. You were such a slut, flirting with anyone and everyone. Irrationality began to consume him-- instead of seeing your interaction with Hakkai for what it truly was, a genuine developing friendship, his brain refused to comprehend your behavior with other men. He never got to the level of comfortability you had with Takemichi, and he had lost the sense of ease you had with him to Hakkai and god, god did it piss him off. Unfortunately for that kohai, she was just another doll for him to play with just until he could get your attention again. Even a single drop of your attention, your attachment, it was enough to drive him for weeks just to be able to be near you again. Your kind words squeezing his heart tighter and tighter the more you spoke, your laughter ringing in his ears at a corny joke he told you during club meetings, it enveloped him into infatuation which later developed into a larger feeling. Such a large feeling over the progressing months that when he began bullying you, when your lack of presence and absences during meetings began to grow, an emptiness began to root in his heart, waiting for you to touch it once more and let it grow.
He could go on and on listing things about you-- the way he loved your sense of fashion, the way he loved your sense of humor, your compassion to helping others, your intellect that allowed you to read everyone like a book, everyone except him. Why couldn’t you see that he didn’t hate you? Oh, but that jealousy, the first time he’d admit that it was jealousy, it gripped him so tightly around his neck that it felt suffocating. Every shove, every clasp of your hand, your wrist, your chain, your chain, it made his heart shutter seeing that dead watery look in your eye, but your attention was like a drug that he just had to keep getting more of. It would never be enough to satisfy him, not until he could call you his and you would call him yours. He pitied using them, he really did, but he needed someone to satiate his needs. He was a womanizer, after all-- if one left he would just charm another into his bed. They all had high respect for Mitsuya, his intellect, his charm, his skill, and his kindness. Yet no matter how hard he tried, all those women, they were never you and they could never try and be you. He found that he no longer sought sex for his own pleasure anymore, but for your own, pretending so desperately that the one trembling out of pleasure beneath him was you. Imagining, no, fantasizing that he was making you happy and leaving you satisfied.
Upon seeing your interaction, he quickly left with his kohai for their own exchange, leaving Hakkai unfortunately confused as he waved you goodbye, patiently waiting for his friend to meet him. You were still on campus because you had taken additional extracurricular activities to build up your transcript to make up for your absences in Mitsuya’s Home-economics club. At first, you attempted to make it through the club meetings but he made every single one as unbearable as possible. The second semester, could it come any sooner? Hakkai, too focused on organizing his schedule with you previously, had failed to notice Mitsuya leaving with a woman. He waited, he waited, and he waited, coming to a good hour until he realized Mitsuya wouldn’t have left him waiting for this long without a heads up. He looked at his phone, expecting some sort of contact-- a phone call, a message, anything. All that awaited him was several unread messages from group chats and friends, none of them from Taka-chan. He sighed, placing his phone away just as he noticed your presence once more, planting a fake smile on his face to disguise his obvious disappointment. Unfortunately for him, his smile only instantly alerted you something was wrong.
┃ “Hakkai? Why are you still here, weren’t you supposed to be meeting Mitsuya?”
┃ His phony smile stood in place as tears began to fill his eyes. He croaked: “T-taka-chan left me. Do you think he’s mad at me for sumthin’, Y/N? I don’t ‘member doin’ anything.”
You instantly rushed over to comfort him, witnessing what appeared to be an intimidating giant become undone into a fragile teddy bear at the thought he had upset his best friend. Your disdain only kept growing for Mitsuya, first it was his lack of maturity during class, and now he had abandoned his best friend for whatever reason it was. Hakkai was a sweetheart, you couldn’t imagine what he may have done to upset someone. Therefore, you came to the conclusion Mitsuya had thrown a tantrum of sorts and took it out on him. It irked you, however, Mitsuya always remained respectful and loving to his best friend in addition to Yasuda-san, so you couldn’t help but raise your brow wondering what got him so upset for him to entirely ditch his friend. Pushing those thoughts aside, you placed all of your focus on bringing a smile back to Hakkai’s face, gently rubbing his back and placing your forehead against his temple as he crouched over in defeat. You desperately attempted to think of anything to cheer him up.
┃ “Ah, how about some tea?”
┃ “...Tea?”
┃ “Listen, I have absolutely no idea what you like and I want to calm you down so-”
┃ “Tea sounds good.” He said softly, a small smile returning to his face.
You escorted Hakkai comfortably back to your dorm, located on the east wing of the campus. Women and men could go to each other’s dorms, they just had gender-separated wings because it was just easier to contain the chaos if everyone was allowed to sleep with their girlfriend or boyfriend. The boys had their dormitory on the west side, thus you noticeably got some glances as you strolled with Hakkai. Mitsuya was always surrounded by Hakkai and Yasuda-san, so obviously most of your classmates were shocked to see you hanging out with his right-hand man. Were you both sleeping together? Ooh what a scandal (not). Although you didn’t mind the glanes too much, Hakkai on the other hand made sure to shoot down them all with a nasty side glare, quickly causing them to turn their cheek. It was a cute sight after all, seeing how you subconsciously had reached for his hand and began to rub gentle circles on it in order to ease him, which succeeded in doing so. Once you arrived at your dorm, you opened the door and gave him a show of jazz hands as you toured him around your dorm. Your dorm wasn’t the largest compared to his and Mitsuya’s dorm, which made him realize the privilege of not having a financially aided dorm. Your queen bed comfortably rested on the right side of the room, covered with a curtain and fairy lights on the wall behind it. Your desk was not too far away, maybe a good 15 feet across your bed, not too messy but not too neat. It was obvious you were working on something, as there were papers still out and scattered but the rest of the desk had the pens, pencils, and stapled papers sorted in a clean pile. Your pinboard was half-covered with your calendar, cluttered with small sticker reminders while the other half was your schedule, nicely decorated with washi tape sticking it to the board. Next to your bed was a wooden closet and you led him into the cramped kitchen that made him gasp, seeing how you make such a tight space so comfortable and presentable. You had a small glass coffee table in the middle, a small fridge cramped in the kitchen underneath a cupboard and next to a cabinet holding the sink on top. Next to that was a stove with a microwave on top, both color-coordinated black, contrasting the white of the room. You guided him over to the table and motioned for him to sit and he obediently did. Walking over to the countertop holding an old-school kettle, you used it to strain and brew the tea. Gleefully, you dropped a few ice cubes in his glass and carefully poured his tea and then your own, sitting across from him at the table. He took a sip of the tea you had placed in front of him, smiling not at the delightful taste but the awaiting face you had fixated, putting your hands under your chin waiting for a response.
┃ “This tea is delightful, thank you Y/N.” He said warmly and you basked in his praise.
┃ “Ah, sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the staring. I don’t… really get visitors. It’s nice to have someone over.” You replied, your face beginning to glow a light pink as your lips formed into a slight frown, embarrassed to admit how you had no friends.
┃ “Mm, I should be the one thankin’ you,” The softness in his voice made your crouched posture fix itself as you looked up to him. “You made me sum tea, opened me to your home, all ‘cuz I was sad and overthinkin’. You ain’t hafta do that, but you did anyway. I appreciate ya!” His iconic grin was now back where it belonged as his eyes glazed over you in pure adoration. You smiled in return, both returning to take a sip of your tea.
Hours passed and he was still at your house, you both gossiping and talking like old friends. You discussed your classmates, praising them and disapproving of the behavior of others. He began to confide in you about what he witnessed during his time as the second-division’s vice captain. You eagerly listened to him as he described to you his tales with his brother and his amazing sister Yuzuha, anything and everything was up for debate. At least, almost everything. Despite being the main reason he was so upset, you and Hakkai had not discussed Mitsuya’s treatment of you. He was mentioned in a few gang stories, but it seemed as if Hakkai was opting out of speaking about him out of respect for you. However, his head began to slump, implying he was tired. You grabbed your phone, which had been placed upside down on the coffee table, and looked at the time and saw it was well past midnight. You leaned over to rub Hakkai’s shoulder and you gasped when his head turned back upright, alert as if he just remembered something. Drunk on drowsiness, he began to speak:
┃ “Mmh, y’know Mitsuya used to talk about you a lot. Always went on about this pretty girl who was awfully sweet, really smart…” He trailed off, fighting off the sleep that clung desperately to his eyelids. “He never gave me a name but after club meetings when I woulds wait for him, he would tell me about his conversations. I always saw him looking at ya. What did ya do to make him so pissed off?” Although he had no malicious-intent in his questioning, it was enough to cause goosebumps all over your body.
┃ “I didn’t do anything, ‘kai. Really, nothing different happened that day. All of the sudden, the next day during his club he humiliated me in front of everyone and then made me stay after hours to yell at me even more.” You went silent for a moment, before your curiosity got the best of you and you questioned: “He used to talk about me? Are you sure?”
┃ Ignoring your question, he replied to your initial response. “You didn’t do anythin’ different at all that day?”
┃ You contemplated his question carefully, before realizing the one event that was an outlier to the rest. “I was waiting for my friend outside campus gates that day. He offered to wait with me but I insisted he didn’t, mainly because my friend had said Mitsuya wasn’t very fond of him so it was better if he didn’t see him.”
┃ “Who’s the friend?”
┃ “Hanagaki Takemichi.”
┃ The tired man in front of you took a full minute to process your sentence before bursting out and crying of laughter a few moments later. You looked at him, pure confusion coating your body as he continued to sob. Finally, after a few minutes, he wiped his eyes and sat back up, gleaming at you. “Well that’s your problem, Mitsuya fucking hates Takemichy. Probably spied on ya because he was worried, saw Takemichy, and boom-- he got jealous AHAHA!” He went back to crying of laughter, leaving you a few moments to yourself to process his words.
It was embarrassing to admit how Hakkai was half-asleep in front of you and somehow managed to put together your puzzle of confusion together months after said incident had happened, in under 20 minutes. However, you couldn’t find yourself disagreeing with his theory. Suddenly, Hakkai stopped laughing and looked up at you, all serious.
┃ “Now wait… that’s not funny! He’s been pushing ya around all the time just cuz he’s jealous of you being with other guys?! That’s fucked up! ‘M gonna beat his ass, Y/N! Just for you!”
You now began laughing, taking Hakkai’s hand in yours over the glass countertop and tapping it gently.
┃ “That won’t be necessary, ‘kai. How about we come up with a solution?”
┃ “My solution is beating his a-”
┃ “A non-physical solution.”
┃ He went silent for a few moments, looking away from you to the window to think. You could tell he thought of something when a smirk began to plaster itself on his face. “How about we test our theory?”
┃ “Elaborate.”
┃ “If that pain in my ass is done with whatever it is he’s doing, there was supposta be a party tomorrow. Not at our dorm, but our friend’s. You might have heard of him, Manjiro Sano?”
You responded with silence.
┃ “Mikey. The Invincible Mikey.”
┃ “Not ringing any bells.”
┃ “Brother of Emma Sano. Brother of Izana.”
┃ “Emma Sano is so nice!”
┃ “Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang, Y/N.”
┃ “Oh.”
┃ “Point is, he’s having a party tomorrow. We could get some revenge, I bring you as my date~”
┃ “Won’t that make him angri-
┃ “That’s what revenge is.”
┃ “Why don’t I just talk with him?”
┃ “Has he tried talking to you?”
┃ “...no.”
┃ “I rest my case.”
Silence enveloped the room once more. It wasn’t an awkward silence, no, it was quite a comfortable silence actually as he patiently awaited your response and allowed you to process and think.
┃ “When is the party exactly?”
✿ tags: @haiq-trash @blackmysticalsimp @the2ndl @bren-heron @delicatejudgecopcowboy @skiwalkers
✿ a.n. // First of all, thank you so much for 102 followers <3 I appreciate the support being given to me! I would like to address one thing, however, please don't rush me to write! I've gotten very kind messages of support but others have been demanding more of me and it's important to remember that I have classes, chores, a social life, and many other things happening. I love writing but rushing me makes it unenjoyable and it won't be my best work. My goal for this ongoing fanfic is to post weekly. Just a little ted-talk there, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter though! I had such a fun time writing it :)
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best friends — isaac lahey x reader
༄ word count — 1.7k
፨ characters — isaac lahey
☓ tw — none
⊹ cw — none
✎ masterlist
─
staring in the mirror at your features made you realize how little you actually liked them. they fit together like an intricate puzzle, but not one you were satisfied with. you thought you were fairly pretty, but not beautiful, and you wished you were beautiful because you wanted to be enough for isaac.
isaac was your best friend, and had been for about three years. you’d met freshman year and had been inseparable ever since. you had been through everything together — his dad’s death (and abuse), him being bitten by derek hale and turned into a werewolf, and everything that came along with it.
you knew he never considered you more than a friend. you could feel it in your gut. but, despite that, you were madly in love with him. you had been for two and a half years. about seven months went by before you realized your feelings, but when you did, they hit you like a brick wall.
it was halloween of your freshman year of high school. isaac was big into dressing up, even if he didn’t go out. usually they were just small costumes, but this time, he went all out. he dressed up as a wizard, wearing a purple and black cloak, and he carried a staff. he had a tall and pointy hat that matched the cloak, and he wore a fake gray beard that hung down to his belly button. he was a huge dork about it and did his best to speak in only old english the whole night.
when you saw him in it you cracked up, and he put a “spell” on you to make you like it, and you played along.
since then, every day had been absolute hell for you. every single thing he did only made you fall more and more in love with him. sure, you had been through rocky times — like when his attitude shifted to him being a cocky twerp after being bit.
but he had you wrapped around his finger and won you back within a week. you couldn’t stay mad at him, as much as you hated to admit it. after all, you were in love with him.
you two stayed at each other’s house a lot, which started rumors amongst your friends, who teased the two of you about it. at first, your parents were wary about allowing it but became more lenient after a little while when they realized you were just friends.
and fast forward to tonight, isaac was coming over to your house to stay with you. you were already laying in bed reading a book when he knocked on your door.
“hey,” he said as he walked in, laying his stuff down on your desk.
“hey.”
“whatcha reading?”
“oh, the book thief.”
“haven’t you already read that, like, a million times?”
“yes, but it’s a good book.”
he nodded as he kicked his shoes off. “how was your day?”
he always asked this question, genuinely interested in how your day was every time, which only helped you fall in love with him.
“eh. it could’ve been better. yours?”
“same.”
“how’s scott?”
“he’s good. studying with stiles and allison.” he sat down in front of you, leaned against the footboard of your bed.
“i’m surprised they’re not running from a ghost or something,” you joked, making him laugh.
“don’t jinx them.” you just smiled, redirecting your eyes back to your book. “oh, i have some news,” he said with excitement suddenly prominent in his voice.
“do you?”
“i met this girl.” as soon as the words came out of his mouth, your heart dropped. “in one of my classes. we got paired for a project and i made some dumb joke and she thought it was hilarious. she gave me her number. i spent like three hours on the phone with her before i came over.”
you nodded as nicely and convincingly as possible. “th-that’s great! what’s her name?”
“crystal. she’s super sweet.”
“wow. i’m-i’m happy for you.” sadness was laced in your voice, and he seemed to notice.
“you okay?”
“yeah, yeah, i’m fine. all good.”
“y/n, i’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying. did i say something?”
you sighed. “isaac, really, it’s fine. i don’t feel like talking about it.” he reached over and snatched your book out of your hands, and you groaned. “give me that back.”
“not until you tell me what’s bothering you.”
“i said i don’t want to talk about it.”
“well, too bad.”
you sighed. “fine, just... just give me the book back.” you reached out and he handed it to you.
“now, tell me what’s up.”
“we’re best friends... right?” you asked after a few seconds.
“yeah, of course, we are.”
“just best friends?”
“uh... i don’t think i follow.”
you stared at your book for a moment. “isaac...” you physically couldn’t make yourself say what you were trying to. ‘i’m in love with you,’ you thought. but your brain refused to make your mouth form those words.
“what?” you didn’t answer. “what is it, y/n?”
you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly.
“isaac... i... i’m in love with you.”
as soon as the words left your mouth, all you wanted was to take them back. you knew you had just ruined your friendship with him, which you didn’t want.
you finally looked at him to see a shocked and empathetic look on his face. and as soon as you saw it, you knew he didn’t feel the same.
“what?”
“i’m really sorry. i just... i needed you to know.”
“how long?” he asked simply.
“almost three years.”
“y/n-”
“and-and i understand if you don’t feel the same, but... god, i’m in love with you. desperately, hopelessly, deeply, madly... fucking in love with you. and i’ve tried to suppress those feelings, i really have. but every time you sing along to whatever song i play in my car, or drop something, or trip over your own feet... I can’t help it.”
“y/n-”
“and i know we’re supposed to just be best friends, but... it’s like a pit or a void in my heart that’s only filled when i’m around you.” you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. “and it’s embarrassing because the moment I realized it was freshman year halloween. when you dressed up as that wizard and refused to talk normally. and when i realized it, i went home and cried. because i knew you would never feel the same about me.”
you looked over at him to see he was staring at the bed in front of him. he was silent, which made you nervous.
“jesus. what a bombshell.” he reached up and rubbed his eyes. “i-i’m sorry, y/n. i just… i don’t feel the same.” you nodded and let a tear drip down your cheek as you looked back up at your book. “you have no idea...”
“don’t do that.”
“what your friendship means to me.”
“no. i don’t want to do that, isaac. i wanna be more than that.”
“i’m really sorry if you misinterpreted things, y/n. it’s probably my fault.”
“not your fault. i’m sorry i… misinterpreted our friendship.”
“i should get going,” he said softly.
“yeah,” you choked out.
“i’m sorry.”
and with that, he was on his feet, his shoes were on, and he was out of your house. the energy in your room was smothering, leaving you alone to soak your pillow in salty tears.
-
two weeks had passed since you’d seen isaac. you weren’t even sure he was coming to school, to be completely honest. you had three classes with him, and he was in none of them. not seeing him was weird, like something was missing.
it wasn’t until you stayed late after school one night to work on homework that you saw him again. you were walking past the locker rooms when a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you into the boys’ one, making you gasp in surprise.
you tore your arm from their grip but let out a deep breath when you made eye contact with him.
“jesus, isaac, you don’t just grab a girl and yank her into an empty room.”
he didn’t answer, he just looked at the floor. you were both silent for a moment, and you crossed your arms.
“what do you want?” you asked finally.
“i’m sorry,” he whispered. “look, what you said... that was a wake-up call for me. after i left-”
“abruptly, without warning. leaving me all alone.”
“when i was driving home, i started thinking. you’ve always been there for me, through thick and thin. when i fuck up, you’re always there to comfort me. i always have a pair of arms to hold me when i’m sad and a bed to sleep in when i don’t wanna be alone, or when my dad was being a dickhead. always. and i’ve been too stupid to look in front of me and see that. and, now that i think about it, i remember that when we met... i had the biggest crush on you.”
“you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”
“i’m not. i swear. i figured you didn’t feel the same, so i forced myself to move on. i thought about you every night for weeks after. i thought about how i wished i had even a sliver of a chance with you. and, through all of this, i guess i forgot all that. but now all those feelings are resurfacing. and they’re hitting me hard. you’ve been there for me from the start, and you’re everything to me.”
“how do i know you’re not just saying this out of guilt?”
“because if i was saying it out of guilt i wouldn’t do this.”
“do what-”
he stepped closer and cupped your face in his hands, pulling you closer and connecting your lips. you instantly kissed back, wrapping your fingers around his wrists.
two and a half years. you waited two and a half years for this, and you were finally getting it. you savored every single millisecond of it, kissing him like you’d never kissed anyone before.
when he pulled away, you looked up at him. he smiled at you before pecking you quickly on the lips.
“i’m sorry,” he said. “i should’ve done that sooner.”
“yeah.”
“i love you, y/n. so much”
with a smile, you repeated, “i love you, too, isaac.”
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ok ok ok can u do something where bakugo and the reader both have crunches on eachother but he always rejects every girl and the reader thinks he won’t accept her confession but he’s rejecting everyone cuz he has a crush on her
SC: Be my Valentine [Bakugo]
A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! I decided to take this request and use it as a special for today. I genuinely hope you like it! I've been experiencing a creative block and none of the things I write have satisfied me for two months now T_T So I ask for your understanding if this comes out a little weird. Anyway, enjoy!
Genre: Fluff.
Word count: 3,517 (this is a long boi)
Bakugo grunted in frustration, looking away from the girl standing in front of him, crying.
Anyone who watched them without knowing what was happening would think he was bullying the girl. With that annoyed and angered appearance of his, what else could be happening?
But you actually knew exactly what was happening, something that would take aback a lot of people if they knew, but a lot of girls would understand at the same time. However, knowing what the situation was didn’t prevent you from feeling your chest get heavier with anxiety.
That was the third time in a month someone confessed their feelings to Bakugo; it was the third time in a month that you both were walking to your next class together and then some random girl appeared and asked him to meet her in an empty classroom.
And it was the second time you decided to sneak in and eavesdrop, curiosity killing your rationality and getting you to stand once again behind a corner to know what he was responding to the girl in front of him. You knew it wasn’t something good, given the loud cries the girl didn’t even try to suppress, and Bakugo’s annoyed expression, but you wanted to know his exact words. You had to know.
“You should’ve known better.” He said, still looking anywhere else except the crying girl. “I thought the other two girls had spread word that I’m not interested at all in spending Valentine’s Day with… Anyone else.”
The little pause he made between words surprised you a bit, but deciding not to think too much about it, you brushed it off your mind, focusing instead in the sudden pain in your heart.
He’s not interested in Valentine’s Day… You thought, pursing your lips. You didn’t know if you should feel relieved that he rejected that girl, or feel sad because that meant he probably wasn’t interested in you either.
That was the reason why you were eavesdropping. The first time, it was because of curiosity, he didn’t tell you what that previous girl talked about and acted as if nothing ever happened; this time it was because you were eager to know what was his reason to reject them, to know what was expecting you in the future when you confessed to him too.
You weren’t any more different than those girls who were crazy about Bakugo; you were crazy for him too. The only difference was that you were head over hills for him ever since the beginning, when you met him and before he had that sudden change in attitude.
During your first year in UA, despite Bakugo’s amazing academic backgrounds, great abilities and use of his quirk, he was the most unpopular guy in school thanks to his violent attitude and negative mindset. Of course, that didn’t matter to you, because you admired him a lot, and you were able to see the real Bakugo Katsuki.
One of the hidden tricks of your quirk was the ability to see people’s real-self. You often referred to it as their soul, since it was the only way you could describe it. It was a small thing that resides in people’s core, emanating an aura that transmits their truest self. You could know if someone was actually a good or a bad person, and understand their feelings and intentions a little better.
No one, except professor Aizawa who was secretly helping you train that ability, knew about this. It was just another part of your mind-controlling quirk that you kept hidden in case it was useful as a secret weapon at some point.
When you first met Bakugo, you were stunned at his aggressive behavior, you thought he surely had the soul of a villain or some sort of crazy psychotic person. And when you activated your quirk to see his soul, oh boy, how wrong you were.
It was a mix of a bunch of feelings and contradicting thoughts. He had a pure and selfless core, his nature, but the aura it was emanating was menacing, strong and out of control. What you could assume from your previous experience studying other people, was that he was born with the traits of a true and amazing hero, but the world, the environment he grew up in, and his perception of the world tainted the core, as if protecting it from leaking out.
From that day on, you paid more attention to him, trying to understand him now knowing he wasn’t really a bad person. You even started approaching him with the intention of befriending him and failing many, many times. You didn’t give up for your first whole year in the UA, it was a matter of time until he accepted you, just like he accepted Kirishima.
Then your second year of school began, you didn’t even notice when Bakugo stopped telling you to “fuck off”, and started telling you to “stop bothering him”, and then to “go away”, then simply telling you to “be less loud”. One day he was suddenly letting you sit beside him during lunch, or letting you talk while you both walked to your next class, or working together during training.
There even was a time when he asked you out of nowhere why were you always trying to be closer to him. And you replied:
“Because I know you’re a good person, and I admire you as a hero.”
The genuine smile never left your lips, even after seeing his stunned reaction, as if he just saw you grow a third arm.
From that day on he experienced a 360° change in attitude; he tried to be less aggressive towards other people and took more seriously his performance during training and team work.
That sudden change obviously engrossed the attention of lots of girls who were already interested in the strongest student of second year, now seeing how attractive he was when he wasn’t yelling at them.
Did he change after I said I admire him…? No, impossible.
You shook your head, unconvinced with the thought, and then kept waiting for your friend to keep talking.
“Didn’t they teach you not to spy on others?”
The raspy voice took you by surprise when it spoke from behind you. You jumped around, barely keeping yourself from shouting, just to find your favorite vermillion eyes in front of you.
You smiled shyly, acting as if your heart wasn’t suddenly beating faster when you noticed it was him.
“Ah, Bakugo, sorry. I… I heard the girl cry and I was worried.” The excuse you came up with didn’t seem convincing but you went with it anyway. He arched an eyebrow staring at you for a moment, scanning your features before talking:
“You were worried I did something to her?”
“No!” You hurried to clarify. “Of course not, it’s not that I thought you did something. It’s just normal to worry when you hear someone cry, don’t you think?”
“If you say so.” Bakugo looked away with no interest, then pointed somewhere with his chin. “Let’s go, I’m done here.”
You nodded, and rushed to stand beside him to walk together.
You weren’t walking with a specific direction, it looked like he just wanted to get away from there. The silence between you made you even more nervous, because you couldn’t help but think about what happened before.
If you confessed him that you liked him… Would he reject you just like those girls?
Chills traveled through your spine.
No, if he rejects you, that means losing his friendship. You worked hard the past year to befriend him just to throw it all away.
You sneaked a glance at him, trying to analyze his face. He had very handsome and mature features, despite his young age. His gaze was piercing and intimidating even when he didn’t intend it; his vermillion eyes were hypnotizing to you, with their strong and aggressive color that fitted perfectly with his exterior and his attitude. However, you knew his fierceness was just a part of him, the one he allowed himself to show, or maybe the only one he knows.
After seeing his “soul”¸ you paid attention to the smaller details, for example the way he tried to protect his teammates during training, how he preferred to get injured himself before anyone else; the way he took very seriously his path to become a hero, how he wanted to be the best, but he also wanted to be a very reliable one.
He had the essence of a true hero, and he was still learning and discovering his own path to become that hero he has always aspired to be. That is why you admired him, why you fell in love with Bakugo.
He caught you looking at him, eyeing you through the corner of his eyes. You blushed and looked away, ashamed. You could swear you even heard a small chuckle coming from him, but by the time you turned to confirm, any trace of what could betray his feelings, was gone.
“Sooo…” You suddenly spoke, searching through your brain to find any topic of conversation. “What are you doing on Valentine’s Day?”
Bakugo stopped walking, frozen on his place with his eyes locked on yours.
“Why?” He looked anxious when he asked, only making you nervous about his reaction.
Could it be that he knows about my feelings? Maybe he thinks I’ll try to ask him out? Is he mad?
Billion thoughts flooded your mind, rushing for one of them to get an answer. But you ignored them and simply smiled.
“Just because. It’s an important day, isn’t it?”
“… Why would it be?” Bakugo asked, slightly confused and expectant.
Oh, damn, I think he knows…
“Well, you’ve been getting lots of confessions lately. You probably will get ten thousand more that day, and not to mention the chocolates and gifts.”
You faked a pensative expression, as if wondering what would expect him that day. Wondering wasn’t even necessary, you were 100% sure he would get many chocolates and confessions. Until just a few minutes ago, yours was included on that pile.
But seeing his reaction, you were getting more and more convinced that confessing wasn’t a good idea.
“I… I don’t care about any of that…” The blonde stared at the floor, with a hint of disappointment.
You pursed your lips, repressing yourself from letting any sadness or disappointment come out of your voice.
“Then does that mean you’re not planning to accept any confessions?” You finally asked the one question burning in your mind to come out. If he knew your feelings, it would probably give out your intentions and he would stop you without the need to directly reject you.
It was the best course of action, or so you thought.
He stared at you, dumbfounded, with a puzzled expression. Completely confused, Bakugo didn’t know how to reply to that. He swallowed hard, thinking for the safest reply possible.
“Does that matter?” He said, then instantly regretting the second he opened his mouth, when he looked at your dejected and surprised eyes.
“Oh…” You replied, not knowing what else to say.
“It’s not a big deal.” Bakugo added trying to look unfazed, walking past you to avoid eye contact. “But I won’t be accepting confessions or gifts from any randomgirl who says she likes me… I’m telling you this just so you don’t get the wrong idea! Ok?”
He hoped his words would give you enough information to understand what he meant.
From your standing, you could barely see his red ears, though you didn’t know how to interpret that, nor his words.
A few days went by, and finally Valentine’s Day was here. That previous conversation was never mentioned by neither Bakugo or you again, in hopes to not stir any misunderstandings or getting false hopes from each other.
Still unsure about what to do, you prepared a small box of dark chocolates that you were sure would fit his palate, since he wasn’t very fond of sweet things. You hadn’t decided on what to do, but worst-case scenario you could just share the chocolates with your friends and forget about this whole situation.
But your last traces of courage quickly faded as soon as you saw the first wave of girls being rejected by him, and their gifts being discarded with annoyance.
“I told you all already that I’m not interested! I don’t even like chocolates!” Bakugo shouted at the small female crowd standing on his way to class.
You tightened your grip on the small box in your hands.
I should’ve known better…
You walked to the crowd, slightly pushing the girls to make your way through and excusing yourself towards the classroom. When you were almost by Bakugo’s side, he locked his eyes with yours, then sliding them towards the box in your hands. He looked surprised, and… Happy, maybe?
You didn’t think too much about it, as you quickly hid the chocolates behind you and kept walking without sparing him another glance. You could almost feel his heavy gaze on your back as you walked to your first class, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling on your chest.
The rest of the day you spent it trying to avoid your friend as much as you could, fearing that your dejected feelings would come out any time if you talked to him. Meanwhile, he seemed to want to say something every time you were alone, but soon enough another girl would get to him and interrupt whatever he was about to say to you, and by the time he was done rejecting her, you weren’t there anymore.
His patience was getting shorter and shorter with every interruption he faced as he was gathering the courage to go to you. The obvious fact that you were avoiding him the whole day wasn’t helping him either. He was closer and closer to just shout at the whole school to die and leave him alone, but he quickly brushed off that idea when he thought of you.
Surely, that wasn’t the impression he wanted to give you.
While thinking about that, he soon decided what exactly was the impression he wanted you to have of him. A courageous and honest one, just like a hero.
He smiled, and as the last bell rang indicating the end of classes for that day, he quickly got up and left the room to put his plan into action.
If you had any lingering hope of confessing to him, by the time Bakugo was gone, that feeling had completely turned into disappointment.
Is he that eager to leave? You thought, feeling hurt.
Well, taking into consideration YOU were the one avoiding him the whole day, it didn’t seem reasonable to feel disappointed.
Sighing, you gathered your belongings with laziness, waiting for everyone else to leave first since you didn’t want to get stuck in the large crowd that probably would pack the halls.
The sadness was washing you all over as you thought your last chance of confessing him your feelings was over. And you weren’t sure if it was your fault, because you were the coward who ignored him even when he approached you first.
But what if I would’ve got rejected? At least now I still have his friendship… Don’t I?
A few minutes went by as you took your sweet time preparing to leave, still hearing a buzzing crowd laughing and talking outside, when suddenly the business became more noticeable than before.
You tried to ignore it until you heard a very familiar voice shouting:
“MOVE! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS BULLSHIT!”
With eyes wide open, you turned your face around towards the door, instantly spotting that known silhouette standing right outside, with a small group of girls on his way. He lifted his eyes when he felt your stare, and quickly regained his composure, with newly found patience. He pushed through the crowd to walk in, stopping right under the doorframe, and spoke:
“Today, many seemed surprised I took my time to ‘properly’ reject every girl that came to me.” His eyes weren’t leaving yours as he kept talking. You laughed at the way he said “properly”, admitting he probably did his best to not make any girls cry despite being annoyed.
“The reason for that is because there is someone I want to look proudly at me. This someone has always seen the best in me, even at my worst, so I want to live up to her expectations.”
Bakugo resumed his way towards your place. His words caught you off guard, but his piercing gaze kept you hypnotized, so you couldn’t properly react.
“The whole day I was waiting for this certain someone to make a move, if she was even slightly interested in me. I was disappointed when that didn’t happen.” Your heart was filling with warmth and excitement with every word coming of those lips you dreamt of kissing lots of times before. “Then I thought, ‘Does she have to be the one making the first move?’”
Taking the last step, he finally stood before you, with his hands hidden behind him.
“A true hero is courageous and honest. She was both when she took the first step and approached me a year ago, even though I pushed her away many times. Now it’s my turn.”
He stayed silent for a brief moment, you were about to open your mouth and say something when he spoke once again:
“Y/N!” He startled you with his loud voice. “I like you! I don’t care about any other extra and their gifts, I only want you! So… Would you be my Valentine?”
He displayed to you the sweet chocolates box he was previously hiding behind, and silence reined the room once again, however this time it stayed for longer. You didn’t know how to reply, the words were stuck in your throat, still taken aback by his sudden and loud confession.
For some reason, the idea of Bakugo confessing first never crossed your mind, and it felt extremely impossible. But now not only did he confess he liked you, but he did it in front of a whole audience! And with chocolates and all!
“I…“ You finally could open your mouth, trying to form a coherent sentence in your mind first. “I like you too.”
You shyly smiled at him, being those the only words that could come out. Then you suddenly remembered the chocolate box in your bag and you hurried to bring it out and offer it to him. Bakugo looked down and stared at the chocolates you were offering him, with a something strange in his gaze. You quickly added:
“I wanted to give this to you, but I thought you wouldn’t want them when I heard you say you don’t like chocolates…”
His expression faded from the first awkward confusion to an understanding one, the memories of him shouting that same morning finally sinking in.
With his left hand he slowly accepted the box you were offering him, freeing yours to accept the one he was giving you.
“You surely impressed me.” You laughed nervously. “This is why I admire you. While I was here doubting, you set the example for me.”
Even when he tried to hide it, you noticed for a second how he puffed his chest with pride, making you smile wider.
“Now your courage inspired me to do this.” As soon as you said those words, you leaned forward and stood on your tiptoes, reaching to place your lips on his. He jumped surprised for a bit, before closing his eyes and corresponding your kiss gently.
His scent of caramel flooded your senses as you focused only on him. His soft lips caressing yours showed you an undoubtful yearning for you. He slowly placed his hand on your cheek, and you instinctively leaned closer to it.
After ending the kiss, you smiled broadly while feeling the blush kick in, rushing to your face.
“Those fuc… Freaking extras are still standing there, aren’t they?” Bakugo grumpily asked you, though the gentleness in his eyes and his touch gave away his true feelings.
You laughed, nodding as you paid more attention to the students standing outside staring at you two.
“Don’t mind them, at least that will serve to stop girls from approaching you.”
“And to let them know you’re the only one for me.”
“You’re so cheesy now!” You cringed covering your face with your palms with shyness.
“Would you prefer me to yell at you and call you extra, then?” He raised a brow jokingly.
You both laughed forgetting about the audience outside, not letting them ruin the special moment you both were building. Finally, being honest made you very happy, but the fact that it all happened during Valentine’s Day made it all even more amazing.
You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, but it didn’t matter because Bakugo too was sharing your happiness. And this moment was just the beginning.
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(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday
Monday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Thursday (Part 2) Friday Saturday Sunday
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends
Word count: 5,326
(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)
You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”
You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.
He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment.
Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”
You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”
“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”
There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly.
“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”
“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”
Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches.
He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”
You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”
“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”
“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.
“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”
Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”
“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.”
“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”
“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”
“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest.
You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement.
“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”
Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today.
“I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”
“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”
You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room.
“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”
“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”
He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you.
“Shit, sorry.”
“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”
“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”
You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”
He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”
“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”
“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.
“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”
You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.
“Yikes.”
“Yikes isn’t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).”
“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”
You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.
You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up.
You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.
Sammy <3
(Y/n) where the hell are you?
Adrian <3
Do you guys think she ditched us?
I knew she was ignoring us
Sammy <3
Who ignores their friends?
Annie <3
(Y/n) apparently.
She has more important things to do ig
Oh my god
Do you guys think she skipped school?
Adrian <3
I wouldn’t put it past her
Maybe she finally gave up
(Y/n)
I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today
I would never ignore you
Sammy <3
Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..
(Y/n)
I’m not ditching you!
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment
I’ll make it up to you guys
Adrian <3
How?
You’ve already skipped out on us enough already
Annie <3
Oh ik!
She can write our final research paper for us Dri!
I haven’t started it yet lmao
Adrian <3
Saaaame lmaoooo
Sammy <3
Guys, what about me???
Adrian <3
Idk, figure it out yourself
Sammy <3
Rude!
Uhhh
Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history
(Y/n)
Alright, I can do that for you guys
Sam can you pls send me the rubric?
Annie <3
Thanks love ;)
(Y/n)
No problem, I like doing things for friends
My dad’s coming, I gotta go
Talk to you guys later
Adrian <3
Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!
(Y/n)
: ) <3
You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends.
“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.
“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”
“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”
“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”
“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”
“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”
“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”
“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”
“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”
“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.
“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.
���Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”
He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.
Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.
“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”
“I’m alright.”
“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”
“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”
She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”
You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”
You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back.
“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”
“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”
“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”
“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”
She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”
You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”
You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion.
“Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.”
“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her.
“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”
She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.
“So?”
“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”
He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”
“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”
“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”
“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”
“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.”
“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school.
In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.
Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?
Hales : )
(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school
I need to talk to you before practice starts
It’s an emergency
(Y/n)
What’s going on?
Hales : )
I’ll explain after school.
Can’t talk about it over text
(Y/n)
Alright, see ya then ig
You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-
You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.
“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”
“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”
“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”
Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.
Unknown
I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.
If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.
You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High.
Cut all ties now. You have two days.
Do not try me.
“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”
She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”
“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”
“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”
“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”
She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”
“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”
She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”
You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”
She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon.
You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”
The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her.
“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.”
“It’s none of your business, Zara.”
“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders.
“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.
“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.
“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”
“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym.
“You just keep telling yourself that.”
“I’m serious.”
“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”
You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”
“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.
Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”
“I am and I hate it.”
Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle.
Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.
You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left.
“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.
“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”
She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”
You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”
“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”
“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”
She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”
“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”
She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.
“(Y/n)-”
“I know what you’re gonna say.”
She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”
You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”
She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”
You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”
“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”
“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”
“You really wanna bet?”
You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”
She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.
You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand.
You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”
She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”
“Make me~”
She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”
She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”
“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.
“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”
She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”
She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-
“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”
You sighed, “right.”
The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.
You coughed, “I think I’m gonna…”
“Yeah…”
You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning.
You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door.
“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”
“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”
He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”
You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”
“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”
You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.
Taglist (comment if you want to be added or if I missed you, it won’t let me tag some tumblrs :((( ):
@immadatmostthings @thaticecreambish @hee-hee-haw @dearnataliealoveletter @wasteofspacze @dcml04 @bbigbbrainn @dirtydiavolo @vanhakirja @rinzyx05 @misselsbells06 @ialexabsuniverse @im-a-depressed-gay @energy-drinkk @mothra-main @i-need-hugs @dragons-lurk-here @katj733 @m4r-s @vievi @dykeragee @waterstrawberry @aplaintart @kakamiissad @myunfinishedsymphony @nagitokinnieissad @autumnpleaves @justanothergirlwithdemons @zachariethememerie @moon-asia @m0on-blue @strawberrysodababy @akikko-yataro @haikkeiji @shiningsunrises @cinnamonmochi @queen-turtle-boiii @imanewsoul @sparkling-gayyyy @angelicaschuyler-church @vixenfoxpup @ella-ivanov @shio-yuki @mosstea-png @ijustshatbricks
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And They Were Roommates - One Shot
a/n: I’ve had this idea for a long time, and I’m glad it’s finally come together. I love friends to lovers fics, they make my stomach twist in the best possible way, so I hope you all enjoy these two! Feedback and reblogs are always helpful. (not proofread)
Warnings: two idiots refusing to just get together until they do, SMUT, mentions of Only Fans (which I truthfully know nothing about, but I wanted to make things saucy)
Words: 11.3K
“We just need to be quiet in case my roommate’s home.” You say to your date, Jeremy, as you key into your flat. He nods with a grin as you enter.
“Hey, lovie, how was the-“ Harry smirks when he sees you come in with your date. “I see it went well, never mind.”
You roll your eyes at him. He was sitting on the couch in some sweat pants, and that was it, watching some romantic comedy.
“Harry, this is Jeremy, Jeremy this is my roommate Harry.”
“I’m her best friend too, but I can see she clearly hasn’t brought me up all night. M’a little offended, pet.”
“Okay, well, I’ll try to be more courteous.” You shake your head at him, and tug Jeremy along to your bedroom. “Sorry about him. He usually goes out on Friday nights, but lately he’s been staying in more.”
“You…you live with that guy?”
“Sure.” You shrug and then wrap your arms around his neck. “We’ve been friends for years, and we’re in the same grad program, so it just made sense to split a flat.”
“Listen…uh, I was excited that you invited me up, but I can’t fuck you with that guy sitting out there.”
“What?” You frown and step back. “Why not?”
“Because I’ll just think you’re thinking of him the whole time. He’s…like…perfect! I can’t compete with that.”
“Jeremy, you’re being silly, just clear your head, we can-“
“Sorry, Y/N.”
Jeremy opens your door and leaves you standing in your room. You were in shock. Jeremy walks quickly back out into the main area, and sees Harry still sitting and watching his movie.
“Oi, that was quick, mate. Hope you left my girl satisfied.” Harry grins at a disgruntled Jeremy, and he leaves.
“You know it’s comments like that…” You sniffle as you stand there in your pretty dress and heels. “That make guys just up and leave.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He took one look at you sitting there like that and ran off!”
“So, I can’t even sit in the comfort of my own living room without some douche feeling emasculated? Are you sure you want someone like that fucking you, Y/N?”
“I just wanted to hook up! Christ, now I have to go take care of it myself.” You groan.
“Well, when you’re done, come join me. We can watch My Best Friend’s Wedding.” He leans forward and smiles. “You look really nice tonight, I’m sorry he was an idiot.”
“Thanks.” You wipe your finger under your nose. “Would you make some popcorn or something?”
“On it.”
Alright, some explanation is probably needed here. See, you and Harry met your sophomore year of uni, no, not drunk at some party, in class, actually. You both were education majors, so you ended up having a lot of classes together once you really dove into your major courses. You got paired up on a project together, and there was no separation between the two of you after that.
Normally, Harry wouldn’t have been the type of guy you’d be friends with. To be honest, he dressed like a douchebag when you first met him. You wondered why he’d want to be a teacher. He had floppy curls, wore a snapback with every outfit, and you didn’t think he owned a pair of jeans that didn’t have any rips in them. Although, you did enjoy his Chelsea boots, his sweaters, and his nail polish and rings.
You were innocent, and sort of preppy while he was loud mouthed and scruffy. Your friend groups never merged, but your best friend knew about your friendship with Harry. She’d constantly poke fun and say you had a crush on him. You didn’t. Harry was hot as fuck, anyone with eyes could see that, but you weren’t into him in that way. That was one of the reasons he liked hanging out with you so much. Most girls that tried to be his friend were just trying to fuck, and that could be fun, but sometimes he genuinely wanted to meet up for coffee and have a conversation without it leading to screwing on an extra-long twin bed.
Harry’s friends knew you well. As the years went on, you’d often be the one he’d bring back to his place drunk. You started off by sleeping on the floor, and then one night you realized you both adults and could sleep in the same bed. His friends would give him an equally tough time about you. Sometimes you’d come over and wait in his room for him while he was out with another girl. To some that may have been weird, but nothing was better than drunk platonic cuddles.
There was one night, your senior year, you had woken up with him spooning you. In all the nights spent together, you two never fell asleep or woke up like that. You didn’t shift when you felt his morning wood poking you. His arm was draped loosely over you. You almost wanted to see if he’d make a move, so you pretended to stay asleep a little longer. His hand had slid to your hip and squeezed it, but that was the extent of the interaction. He rolled onto his back, and you did the same. You looked up at him and started giggling.
“It’s not funny.” He groaned, putting his forearm over his eyes.
“Didn’t know I did it for you, Har.” You poked the dimple forming on his face as he smiled.
“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart, happens to every guy in the morning.” He peered down at you and you rolled your eyes.
You had never spoken about it afterwards. You didn’t want to embarrass him. When you both talked about grad school, and got into the same university, he asked you to be his flat-mate.
“You don’t wanna live with Niall and Louis anymore?”
“They’re getting real jobs, they won’t wanna listen to me complain about school. I’ve found a great two bedroom place. I think it could be fun for us. Dontcha wanna live with me, baby?” He pouted at you and you nudged his shoulder and laughed.
“Christ, I hate it when you start getting all beggy. Alright, we can live together.”
He took you in his arms and hugged you. You were both extremely excited. Sometimes it seemed like you and Harry knew everything about each other, but that was not the case. After you moved in and got settled, it was time you revealed something to him. You called him into your bedroom to talk.
“Is everything okay? You’re not having doubts, are you?”
“No! Not at all, I’m glad we’re doing this. I feel safe with you here, and I’m glad we still have classes together. I…I just need to tell you something. Um, I don’t know what you do to...like, when you’re alone, I don’t know what you use, but I know things can pop up geographically, so I just wanted to warn you.” You bit your bottom lip, and turned your laptop around to show him your Only Fans page. His eyes widened, and then he shook his head.
“This is a joke, right? You made a fake website.”
“It’s not fake…” You muttered. “I don’t do lives, I don’t get naked, and I don’t show my face.”
“Then what do you do?”
“I was a dance minor, as you may recall.” He nodded yes at you. “So I make little strip tease videos and blur my face. Sometimes I take lingerie photos too. It’s a wonder what people will pay for.”
“How’d you get into this?” There was no judgement in his voice, he was genuinely curious.
“It started as a joke between Jenna and I, but then we started making money, and it’s enough that I can pay all my bills and live comfortably. I’ve already paid off one of my student loans thanks to this. I don’t even know if you use Only Fans, but I knew you’d probably recognize me or something if you stumbled across it so…I just wanted to warn you.”
“You know…the coffee shop I work at is hiring if you don’t feel like doing this kind of stuff.” He smirked.
“I actually don’t mind it. I essentially work for myself.”
“So you don’t sit in front of your camera and get yourself off with little bunny ears on?”
“No.” You laughed. “Just videos of me dancing in some intricate lighting, and saucy photos.”
“Can I see?”
“What?!”
“Not one of the videos, show me some pictures.”
“Harry…”
“Come on. I’ve seen you dressed to the nines before, but I’m having trouble believing you would take any provocative photos.”
“Fine.” You clicked through the various photos, and find a mostly decent one. “Here, you can look at this one.”
His eyes widen again as he scans it over. You could only see your face from the lips down. You had a lollypop pressed to them, and some of the juice from it was dripping down your chin. You were laying on your bed in a pink lace bodysuit, and if he squinted he could probably see your nipples, but he chose against it. Your legs were up against the headboard, crossed at the ankle.
“Well?” You asked.
“It’s, uh, it’s very tasteful.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks for telling me…I…I mean I definitely look at porn sometimes, so…uh…definitely wouldn’t have wanted to accidentally wanked it to you.”
“I doubt you would have even stayed on my page for long. You probably like to watch the really freaky shit.” You grinned and closed your laptop.
“I don’t know, there’s something sort of sexy about someone looking so innocent.”
“And that’s exactly what my viewers seem to say in the comments.”
Harry never brought up your page after that. You didn’t make him promise not to go searching for it, you just figured he wouldn’t. With all that aside, your living situation was working out perfectly. Sometimes Harry would bring home the day old muffins or bagels from the coffee shop, and you both had all the free coffee you could drink.
When you first moved in he was like his old self. He went out on dates almost every weekend. Normally he wouldn’t bring someone back, but once in a while he would. You never minded, you’d bring people back too, but you started to notice a pattern. Most guys either would have a tough time fucking you if he was home, or would end up leaving the way Jeremy did. You weren’t sure why they felt so threatened by Harry.
You supposed Jeremy could have been taken aback by seeing Harry shirtless. He was muscular, but not quite skinny. Buff in a way. He could hurt someone if he really wanted to. Once you’ve changed into some comfy pj’s, you plop down on the couch with Harry, and dive into the bowl of popcorn he made so you could watch your movie.
“So, I take it you’re not gonna take care of things yourself?”
“I’m too annoyed now.” You sigh. “It’s fine. I’ll try my luck with some random when we go out tomorrow night.”
“Good idea.” He throws his arm around you, and you both settle as the opening credits start.
//
Harry had to be up early for his shift at the coffee shop. After getting some schoolwork done, you took the opportunity to get some other work done. You had to be dressed for the club tonight anyways, so you got dolled up, and took some new photos for your page. You always got comments about your lips, so you’d use blow-pops to kiss against, or to rub against. You got some really great shots in, and got dressed in your regular clothes before Harry got home.
“Got your evening makeup on already? It’ll be hours before we leave, love.” He says as he runs a hand through his hair.
“You’re not the only one that worked today.” You wink at him and he rolls his eyes.
“You know, if I didn’t have all my tattoos I could be doing the same thing you’re doing.”
“Plenty of people with tattoos have pages.”
“The last thing I need is to start working at some school, and have a parent recognize me for the wrong reasons.”
“True.” You nod and go into the fridge. “I’m gonna make some stirfry, are you hungry?”
“I could eat.” He shrugs. “I’m gonna go shower.”
“Alright.”
You didn’t necessarily mind that you’re dating life was a little tricky. You had all the domesticity you could need with Harry, however, you were certainly hoping to meet someone tonight at the club. You just wanted to have a meaningless hookup.
After dinner, and having a couple of drinks at home, you and Harry meet up with Niall and Louis at the club. Louis and Harry were laughing over something, so you decide to pay Niall a little attention. You always thought he was cute and funny. He was always nice to you too, as was Louis.
“How are things with your classes?” He asks. “Sort of wish I was doing the grad school thing.”
“Oh, but your job is so cool! Data analysis is riveting.” You giggle against the rim of your drink and he shakes his head. “Classes are good. I’m more so just excited to start teaching, but I have a while for that yet. Practicum last year was such a tease.”
“I bet you’d be a fun teacher, you’d certainly have no problem keeping my attention.” He slings one of his arms around the back of the booth you were sitting in and he inches closer. You smile at him and take a sip of your drink.
“Yeah? Why’s that?” You put your hand on his shoulder and twirl the material of his shirt around your finger.
“Your voice for one thing. It’s smooth, soothing. Your smile is sweet, so that helps too.”
You blush a little from his compliments, and finish your drink.
“Need another, babe?” Harry asks, breaking you and Niall from your little chat.
“I can get it.” Niall says. “Vodka tonic?”
“Please.” You smile and watch him go up to the bar. Louis and Harry look at you. “What?”
“Are you trying to fuck Niall?” Louis asks.
“Of course she’s no-“ Harry says, but he’s cut off by you.
“So what if I am?” She scoffs. “It’s safer than trying to get some guy I don’t know, right?”
“If that’s the case, why not just fuck Harry?” Louis smirks.
Harry death glares Louis as your face scrunches.
“It’s a little cliché, isn’t it?” You say. “Fucking your roommate and best friend? I’ll pass. That’s a load of drama we don’t need.”
“So, what you’re saying is, if Harry wasn’t your roommate or your best friend, you’d fuck him?”
“Hmm…” You tap your chin playfully and look Harry up and down. Before you can answer, Niall returns with your drink, and another round for the guys. “Thank you.” You say to him, and he sits down closely next to you.
“You wouldn’t wanna dance, would you?” Niall asks you.
“I’d love to!”
You both get up and make your way over to the dancefloor. Harry sulks while he plays with the straw in his drink.
“What are you all mopey for, huh?” Louis asks him.
“I don’t really like the idea of them hooking up. Could change the dynamic of things for all of us.”
“Instead of worrying about that, why don’t we try to go meet some ladies of our own, hm?” Louis smiles at Harry, and Harry nods in agreement.
You were having a lot of fun dancing with Niall, and his laugh was infectious tonight. You told him you needed to use the ladies room, and when you came back he was acting like a completely different person.
“Did I do something wrong?” You ask him over the blaring music.
“No! I just…” He looks over at Harry and Louis and then back to you. “We really shouldn’t be messing around like this.”
“We were just dancing.”
“But it was going to lead to something more, no?”
“Did you want it to?”
“Well, yeah, but you’re my friend, and…I wouldn’t want to make anything weird between us.”
“So…you don’t wanna go into the single stall bathroom and have me suck you off?” You bat your lashes at him and his eyes widen.
“Shit.” He says under his breath. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Alright.”
He wraps his hand around your wrist, and leads you through the crowd of people. You both go into the bathroom without a single thought and lock the door. You could hear the music faintly as you looked at each other.
“You seemed pretty sure of things before.” You say to him.
“I…I wigged out for a second. I really want this.”
You smile and step forward, pressing your lips to his. His hands go to your hips, and he squeezes you. He tasted like the tequila he had been drinking, and you smile against him. You kiss across his jaw, and to his neck while your hands work to undo his belt.
“You’re okay with this?” You ask him.
“Yeah, go for it. Would it be easier if I sat up on the counter?”
“No, I don’t mind getting on my knees, thanks.” You smirk at him and sink down, tugging his pants and boxers down just enough for his hard dick to spring out. You look up at him, impressed.
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“Sorry.” You chuckle. “Good for you, though, honestly.”
You kiss his tip and he jerks slightly towards you. You wrap your lips around him, and suck on him. His hands move your hair back, and you close your eyes as you work him over. You pump what you can’t fit, or what you don’t feel like fitting, and you hear him panting. This is all you wanted, you just wanted to make someone feel good.
“Y/N, I’m gonna come.” He warns you, and you give his thigh a squeeze to let him know it’s okay.
He comes into your mouth, and you swallow it to not make a mess. He helps you stand up, and then you help him zip his pants. After rinsing your mouth out he grabs you and kisses you. Your eyes flutter closed as he sucks on your bottom lip.
“Would you finger me?” You ask him just above a whisper against your lips.
“I’ll do anything you want.”
//
Louis was off making out with some girl while Harry was at the bar, brooding. You and Niall come back from the bathroom with flushed cheeks. Harry looks at you, and then looks at Niall. Niall just rubs the back of his neck and looks away.
“Y/N, are you ready to go home?” Harry asks her.
“Um…I was hoping to have another drink, but if you wanna leave we can.”
“I’d like to, yeah.”
You both say goodnight to Niall, and head out. He doesn’t say anything to in the back of the cab, and he’s quiet as you both go inside your flat. He fills two glasses of water and hands one to you.
“What’s wrong?” You ask him.
“Why’d you have to fuck my friend? Of all the guys in there, it had to be Niall?”
“I’m going to bed, I’m not having this conversation with you.” You start to walk away from him.
“So if I took Rachel into the bathroom at club and fucked her, you’d be fine with it?”
“Rachel’s a lesbian, so that’s a moot point.”
“You know what I’m trying to say.”
“I wouldn’t care, Harry. Also, you make it seem like Niall isn’t my friend, when he is. And not that it’s any of your business, but we didn’t do more than diddle each other. I sucked him off, and then I let him finger me, that was it.”
“You know, if you just needed to get off, I’m sure your own hand would have sufficed.” He huffs.
“Sometimes you just wanna feel someone else’s hand.” You say quietly.
“So Niall’s a good enough friend to diddle you, but I’m not? I’m extremely offended.”
“Harry…I don’t have to see Niall every day. It would get weird between us, and you know it.”
“I’m just saying, if you needed some help-“
“Don’t finish that sentence. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Go put yourself to bed, I’m gonna go wash up.”
“I’m assuming no cuddles tonight then?”
“You’ve assumed correctly, goodnight.”
Harry emerges from his room around ten the next morning, thankful he had the day off from work. You were sitting on the couch in the living room, coffee cup in hand while reading one of your textbooks. He sees you’ve made coffee, and he pours himself a cup.
“Morning.” He yawns as he sits next to you.
“Morning.” You say without looking at him.
“Are you mad at me for some reason? Usually you come to my room after we’ve been out like that, and you didn’t…”
“Harry, do you seriously not remember what happened last night?” He shakes his head no at you. “It just wasn’t a good night for drunk cuddles, okay? Can we leave it at that?”
“Alright.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee. “Do you feel like going to the campus library with me in a bit? I’ve got a paper to work on, and a change of scenery would do be some good.”
“Sure! I have some mock lesson plans I need to work on so that sounds good.”
He watches you get up and go into your room so you can get ready. He sighs to himself, feeling bad for lying to you. He takes his phone out to text Niall.
Harry: I’m sorry about last night…I know I can’t control what you do and who you do it with, and clearly what I said to you didn’t matter anyways
Niall: I was going to listen…but she really wanted it, mate, I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything serious, just two friends helping each other out, alright?
Harry: alright
Niall: are you sure you don’t have feelings for her?
Harry: I just don’t think it’s smart for our little circle to comingle like that, that’s all
Niall: whatever you say
“Harry, go get dressed, the sooner we go, the sooner we can come back and watch a movie.”
“Right.” He says with a smile and gets up.
//
Harry fucked up one night. He didn’t feel like trolling on Tinder for a lay, so he found himself on Only Fans. There were a couple of pages he was subscribed to, but they just weren’t doing it for him tonight. He wanted something a little different, so, against his better judgement…he went to your page. Sometimes he’d check it out just to make sure no one was leaving you any sick comments, he never really went there to ogle you. But because you didn’t use your face, he could use his imagination a little bit. He puts his headphones in, and clicks on one of your free videos.
He smiles when he hears one of your favorite songs playing in the background. You were a skilled video editor, hoping to teach that media arts. The video fades in, and there you are, completely clothed. You start dancing, it wasn’t over sexy, but you had a way about taking your clothes off. You were doing a chair dance, one of your specialties. The video ends with you just about to take your shirt off, and then it fades out with a smirk on your lips.
“Oh, she’s good.” He says to himself.
Leaving people wanting more was certainly key on this site. He sighs, and clicks through a couple of the other free things you had on your page, and then eventually he pays to subscribe. You’d never know it was him, it’s not like he used his real name. He was more curious than anything to see what else you could have on there. He clicks through some of your photos. His jaw drops when he sees you licking a lollypop.
There’s a knock on his door, and he nearly throws his laptop across the room. He exits out of his all his tabs and closes his laptop.
“Come in!”
“Hey.” You say, leaning against the door frame.
“What’s up?” He was sweating. Had you seen that you had a new subscriber? Had you somehow figured out it was him?
“I have cramps, can I come lay with you?”
“Oh.” He sighs with relief. “Sure.” He makes some room for you on his bed, and climb on, laying on your stomach.
“What were you up to?”
“Looking for some porn to watch, to be honest with you.” He chuckles as he rubs at your lower back.
“Oh, Christ.” You laugh and nudge his leg. “You didn’t need to let me in.”
“It’s alright, you’re more interesting anyways. How was your day? Feel like I barely saw you?”
“It was good. I had a lot of work to get done so I was at the library, and then I met up with Rach for dinner.”
“How’s she?”
“Good. She’s finally starting to make some friends at work.” You sit up and move to sit on your bum. “I have a cheeky idea. Let’s find a really bad porn to watch.”
“Together?”
“Yeah! We could find a cheesy one from the seventies or something, stuff our faces with ice cream and have a good laugh.”
“I’ll go get the ice cream, you find one to watch.” He slides his laptop over to you, and gets up.
You knew his password, so you enter it in. You open up his browser, and go on incognito mode. He comes back shortly with a gallon of ice cream and two spoons.
“Okay, I think I’ve found one. Major bush on this woman, and the guy.”
“Incredible.” He laughs and hands you a spoon. “Let’s see how they did it back then. Who knows, I may learn something new.”
“God, porn back then was only made for men.” You scoff, and take a bite of the ice cream. “I mean, these women just lay there and take it! What’s the fun in that?”
“I know, I like it when the girl’s a little more involved instead of just starfishing.”
“I’m all for a guy being on top, but you really shouldn’t just lay there. There’s still plenty a girl can do. Although, I have to say, when I’m not super into it, I just lay there until the guy comes.”
“Why not just speak up and tell him to do something else?”
“At that point there’s no coming back. Besides, you know how fragile the male ego is.” You smirk at him.
“True…although, I think it’s really hot when a girl is vocal in the bedroom. If she’s telling me how she likes it then I know she knows her body, and that image alone is so satisfying.” He takes a slow bite of the ice cream to watch your face.
“It doesn’t get frustrating?”
“Not for me.” He shrugs. “I mean, I’m usually able to figure it out without much help, but I always make sure to ask if it feels good.”
“What a gentleman.” You poke his cheek and he swats it away. “I like it when a guy is vocal too, like, isn’t afraid to moan, that kind of stuff.”
“I never understood why guys are so afraid to moan. If it feels good, let it out.”
“Exactly!”
You both completely forgot you had an old porn on in the background until you heard an extremely fake moan rip through the speaker. You both laugh hysterically.
“This must’ve been before boobs jobs got popular, those are as natural as they get.” Harry laughs.
“Jesus, I know, look at those things bounce!” You laugh, and then look down at yourself, frowning.
“What?”
“Well….I have, like, bowling ball tits, like when you go candle pin bowling, is it attractive to watch big, heavy boobs like that?” You point to the screen. “And mine are kinda saggy, and-“
“Please, stop talking about yourself like that. Don’t you have, like, thousands of subscribers on your Only Fans? People clearly like the way you look.”
“They’ve never seen me naked.”
“Still.” He looks down at your covered chest. You were wearing a sweatshirt. “You…not to sound creepy, but you’ve got a great set on you. I’ve always thought so.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I just never said anything because I didn’t want you knowing I was checking you out.” He smirks and throw one of his pillows at him. “It’s hard not to with some of the shirts or dresses you wear to the clubs sometimes. You really know how to make yourself look sexy.”
“Oh, and I’m not sexy right now?” You chuckle.
“No, you are, it’s just a different kind of sexy. Like, you more cute than anything else, but still totally fuckable.”
“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes and take another bite of ice cream. “Mm, we picked a really good flavor this week.”
“I know, way better than last week.”
“I’ve been having fun trying new flavors with you. Gives me something fun to look forward to. Is this twenty-two? Getting excited over ice cream flavors?”
“Pretty soon we’ll be excited over buying a new vacuum, or a dishrack.”
“Oh, I love a good dishrack.”
Harry bursts out laughing, and so do you. You ended up falling asleep with him in his bed, your head cradled to his chest. Harry was always the perfect cure to cramps.
//
“Oh…hello.” A girl says to you some random Wednesday morning. You were stood in your kitchen making some toast before class.
“Um, hi?”
“Oh, god, he has a girlfriend doesn’t he.” She whines.
“No! I’m Harry’s roommate. Did you spend the night, would you like some coffee?”
“Got scared for a second there. No, I’m all set thank you. Um, have a good one!” She says and leaves the flat.
“Is…is she gone?” Harry whispers from around the corner and you chuckle.
“Yes, Harry.”
“Thank god.” He sighs.
“Since when do you bring someone home with you on a Tuesday night?”
“I was working late at the coffee shop, and she was there doing homework, and one thing lead to another.” He pours himself a cup of coffee.
“And it was no good?”
“Terrible, I didn’t even ask for her number.”
“What made it so terrible?”
“She just…she wasn’t…doing it for me, I don’t know. There was no connection, Y/N.” He sighs.
“Maybe it’s time you start actually dating and work your way up to fucking someone.”
“That would involve me having to get to know someone, and I can’t stand people.” He pouts.
“Good thing you’re going to be a fucking teacher then.” You laugh. “Hurry up and get ready, or we’ll be late for class.”
Harry gets ready, and you both walk to campus for your K-12 instructors class. You were thankful to have class with Harry, you weren’t sure what you’d do without him. Just having someone to make eye contact with when someone said something stupid, or if the professor did something cringey.
“Hey, Y/N?”
“Hey, Daniel.” You smile up at him. “What’s up?”
“Well, I…I was wondering if you had plans this weekend? On Saturday?”
You look at Harry and he shakes his head no.
“Not that I can think of, no.”
“Great, uh, would you like to go to the movies? We could grab dinner as well.”
“I…I’d like that a lot, um, here.” You take your phone out to hand it to him. He puts his number and texts himself.
“Cool, I’ll text you later.” He moves to go sit down a few rows behind you. You look at Harry with a grin on your face.
“See, dating, it’s sorta fun.” You say to him.
“Wining and dining someone sure is a lot of effort. Don’t think I quite have it in me, but you have yourself a good time, pet.”
//
You have a wonderful time with Daniel on Saturday night. He took you to Panera, and then to see a comedy. He let you pick the movie, and you were delighted. You shared a lot of laughs, and made out with him in his car before he took you home.
“I ha d a lot of fun.” You tell him.
“Me too.” He says. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”
“I’d like that.” You smile and get out of his car. When you get up to your flat, you can’t wait to dish with Harry about how your night went.
“Hola chica.” He says to you from the kitchen.
“Late night tacvos, my favorite. Save me any?”
“Course, grab what you like. How was your date?”
“Really good. Daniel’s super sweet.”
“Not sweet enough to bring home?”
“I’m taking my own advice and giving dating a try. He asked me if I wanted to go out again sometime and I said yes. We did kiss for a bit, it was nice.” You shove a taco into your mouth. “Mm, you make the best tacos, Har.”
“Don’t I know it? So…so you kissed, but nothing else?” He mutters as he finishes his food.
“Nope.”
“Did you want to?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug.
“Then you shouldn’t go out with him again.”
“What are you talking about?”
“If you didn’t wanna rip his clothes off, it’s probably not gonna last.”
“Lust doesn’t make a relationship.”
“No, but it should be passionate. Even if you’re respectful and wait, you should still wanna fuck the person.”
“Sometimes you have to work up to feeling that way.”
“Nah, when you know, you know.” He winks at you and goes over to the couch. “I was about to watch-“
“Oh my god!” You screech.
“What?!”
“Did you not check the mail earlier?! Kevin and Ashley are getting married! This is their save the date. Holy fucking shit.”
“Makes sense, they’ve been together forever.”
“Well, we have to go, Harry.”
“Okay.” He hears you suck your teeth. “What?”
“No plus ones…”
“So? We’d just go together anyways. We can save money on a hotel room too.”
“That’s true. I just…wow, I couldn’t imagine getting married right now.”
“Like I said, when you know, you know.” He plops down onto the couch and turns the TV on. You sit down next to him. You look at him for a moment, and then turn your attention to the TV. Nothing else really needed to be said.
//
You hated it when Harry was right. Daniel was nice, but there was no spark. You went on four dates with him, and you didn’t want to fuck him.
“Hey, I was looking on the hotel website for the wedding, the room with the king sized bed is actually cheaper than the one with the two queens. That work for you?” He asks you as he comes into your room holding his laptop.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Just tell me how much I need to Venmo you.”
“Will do, it’s not terribly expensive. I’ll only need a hundred bucks from you.”
“Perfect.” You take your phone and send him the money. “Thanks for booking it.”
“No problemo.” He comes in and sits on your bed. “What are you up to, babydoll?”
“Just putting some mock lesson plans together.” You sigh. “Could definitely use a break, though.” He lays down on your bed and pats the spot next to him. You roll your eyes at him, and he pouts. “Ugh, fine.” You get onto your bed with him. “Happy now?”
“Very…although….”
“What?”
“Well, you get to lay your head on my chest all the time. I’d like to do the same. Or…okay, there’s this trend on Tik Tok…could I lay down between your legs?”
“Um…like…with your head in my crotch?” You laugh. “I can put a pillow there and you can lay down if you like.”
“Okay.” You grab a pillow for him, and he gets on his back, resting his head, and looking up at you. You run your fingers through his curls and his eyes flutter closed. “I love it when you play with my hair.” He sighs.
“I knew you were coming in here with a motive. Booking the hotel room to get something out of it, huh?”
“Your nails just feel so good, and you know it.”
“Well, you better return the favor. I like getting my hair played with too.”
“I’ll touch you wherever you want me to, alright?” He yawns. “Just don’t stop for a bit.”
You brush off his crude comment, and does as he says. You liked playing with Harry’s hair, so it wasn’t a burden, and you liked when you two would just get cozy together like this. There weren’t many people you felt this comfortable with.
//
“Y/N, we need to get going down to the ceremony.” Harry calls from the bedroom of the hotel.
“Well, I wouldn’t be running behind if someone hadn’t taken twice as long as they said they would in the bathroom!”
“Can’t rush perfection, darling.” He smirks to himself.
“Mhm, so what does that make me?” You ask as you walk out of the bathroom. His mouth nearly falls open.
You had gotten your hair into a loose, low bun, with plenty of hair in the front to frame your face. You had a strapless purple dress on with black tights and black heels.
“Um…stunning, you look stunning.”
“Thanks.” You smile and grab your clutch. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” You wink at him and head out.
You both were blubbering messes during the ceremony. Rachel made sure to make fun you both for it. Once the cocktail hour hit, you were good to go. You found your table and sat down. You talked with some other friends and explained how grad school was going. You make it through the speeches and dinner, and then it’s time to dance.
Being at something like this reminded you of being at an old uni party, only more upscale. Ashley and Kevin’s families were around, so the music wasn’t exactly what you’d normally get down to, but there was an open bar that you were able to take advantage of. Partying with Harry was one of your favorite things. He always used to bring you to the best ones. A slow song starts to play, and you giggle as he bows and extends his hand to you.
“You’re an idiot.” You say as you take his hand and he pulls you close to him.
“Ah, but you’re still choosing to dance with me, babe.”
“Only cause I’m too lazy to find someone else.”
“Ha! That’ll be us someday reading vows at our won wedding. I was too lazy to find someone else, so I settled for my best friend.” He smirks at you and swat his shoulder.
“Would you be quiet? Enough of the people here think something’s going on between us as it is.”
“True.” He looks around at a few people’s wandering eyes. “Should we give them a bit of a show?” He slides his hands further down your back, getting dangerously close to your bum.
“Harry!” You squeal and giggle. “Stop it.” You grab his hands put them to their previous spot. “Just dance with me, would you?”
He chuckles and sways around with you. You both got pretty plastered. You couldn’t stop giggling with him all the way up to your room. You sigh once you get your heels off.
“Okay, I’m using the bathroom first.” You say to him.
“Fine.” He sighs and starts unbuttoning his dress shirt.
You head into the bathroom, and use the toilet. You get your tights all the way off and groan when you can’t reach the zipper on the back of your dress.
“Ugh, Harry!” You call for him. “I need your help!”
“Yeah?” He says, stepping into the bathroom in only his boxers. Nothing you hadn’t seen before.
“My zipper.”
“Oh.” He places a hand on your shoulder, and the other grips the zipper, slowly dragging it down. You clutch the front of it. “You’re not…uh…no bra?”
“No, there’s one built into the dress.” You turn around to face him. “I just need to grab my pj’s and then I’ll need a couple minutes to take my hair out.” You brush by him to go into your suitcase. He takes the opportunity to use the toilet and brush his teeth.
“Need help with anything else?” He asks as you step back into the bathroom.
“Nope, think I can handle the rest, thanks.” You giggle. “Wouldn’t mind some head scratches once I get into bed though.”
Harry gets into bed and waits for you. You come out with your hair a mess, your makeup smeared from rinsing it, and he furrows his brows at you.
“That’s my shirt.” He says as you knee onto the bed.
“Mhm, well, that’s what happens when you ask me to do your laundry for you. I steal your shirts as compensation.”
“Fair enough I suppose. Come here.”
You smile and lay on his chest so he can run his fingers through your hair. You moan softly from it as you relax into him.
“Feels so nice.” You mumble into his chest.
“I can tell.” One of his hands moves to rub your back. He mimics your moaning and you punch him in the arm. “Oi! I won’t love on you if you do that.”
“M’not asking you to love on me, I just wanted me head scratched. Be grateful you get to hear me make those noises, not everyone does.”
“Bet you’d make thousands if you posted something like that on your Only Fans.” He mutters and you move to look at him. “What?”
“Do you…ever look at my page?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Sometimes I check your comments to see if anyone’s being rude.”
“Oh…” You swallow. “I make enough doing what I’m doing. I…I’d be too shy to do the really explicate stuff. I also just feel, like, I don’t want just anyone to see me naked, you know? That’s why I don’t go live, everyone would just ask me to take my clothes off.”
“I get that. Wanna keep it private for someone special.”
“Exactly. I mean, I’ve talked about this with you before, but there are plenty of people that are into what I post.”
“You certainly leave them wanting more.”
“You’ve…watched?”
“I’ve checked out some of the free videos you’ve posted, yeah.” He admits shamelessly. “You’re a very good dancer.” He smiles at you.
“I’m going to sleep.” You yawn and turn over. “Goodnight.” You look over your shoulder at him. “If you behave you can spoon me if you want.”
“What do you think I’m gonna do? Slide my prick between your ass cheeks? Grow up.” He says as he wraps his arm around you. You can’t help but laugh. “However, if I get hard while I’m sleeping you can’t get mad.”
“Suppose it’s not my fault I have such a fat, juicy ass, hm?”
“Go to sleep.” He laughs, and presses his chest to your back.
“Mm, you’re so cozy, Harry.”
“I know I am. Go to sleep, lovie.” He coos, and rubs at your side.
“Love you.”
“Love you too.” He sighs and nestles into the back of your head.
//
“So…you let him spoon you all night, and nothing happened?” Rachel whispers to you at breakfast the next morning.
“Happens more often than not, it’s not a big deal.”
“You two are so fucking weird! I’ve literally never met two people who were close that do what you do. Why not just make the jump? Neither one of you can manage to make another relationship work.”
“I don’t know…I…I just don’t see him like that, and I know Harry. If he really liked me like that he’d go for it.”
“Maybe he’s just scared to fuck it up with you.”
“Exactly, so, let’s just not fuck it up and try anything.”
“What are you two hens clucking about, hm?” Harry says as he sits down, putting a cinnamon roll in front of you. “Had you favorite.”
“I’m trying to watch the carbs…” You mutter.
“Please.” He scoffs. “Would you just eat the fucking pastry? It’s good for you.”
“How is that thing good for me?” You laugh.
“It makes you happy when you eat it. You always hum and smile when you eat a cinnamon roll.”
“How sweet of you to notice.” Rachel remarks. “You’re practically her boyfriend.”
“Rachel.” You seethe, and take a bite of the pastry. You hum softly. “Why do these bloody things taste so good, huh?”
Harry chuckles and rubs the back of your neck briefly as he eats his own breakfast. He and Rachel share a glance, but that’s the extent of that interaction.
//
“Hey, Harry?” You tap on the outside of his door frame.
“Yeah, babe?” He says, taking his headphones out. It was a Friday evening and you both were doing homework. His eyes widen when he looks at you. “Your face is all flushed, are you alright?”
“Y-yeah, I just…could you come look at something for me?”
“Sure.” He follows you to your room and sits with you on your bed.
“Um...could I…could I show you some new photos I took yesterday? I just finished editing them…and I’m feeling a little self-conscious.”
“Aw, why? You’re so beautiful.” He keeps your cheek and rubs his thumb along your cheekbone. “Course I’ll look ‘em over for you.”
“Thanks.” You swallow and put your laptop on his lap. “So…like usual, they’re not overly explicit, but I feel like my boobs look weird. I should have gotten something with more support.” You blush and point to the photo.
“They’re perfect, you look perfect, Y/N.” You suck your teeth at him. “You do! What else do you want me to say?”
“Okay, what about this one?”
“Perfect.”
“This one?”
“Perfect.”
“But what about this one?”
“Perfect, they’re all perfect. I don’t know why you don’t think so.” He frowns and sets your laptop down on your desk. He turns to look at you. “What’s really going on?”
“It’s just…I have all these people leaving comments saying they wish they could know me, date, fuck me…and…like I don’t know any of them! All they know about me is that I can dance, and I look cute sucking on a lollypop. I…if I wasn’t making the money I that I am I’d stop doing it because I just want someone real to say all of those things to me, you know?”
“Y/N…” Harry sighs. “I know you, I wanna date you, and I certainly want to fuck you.”
“Wh-what?”
“I know, it’s so cliché it’s disgusting, isn’t it?” He smirks. “But it’s how I feel. I’m sick of tip toeing around it.”
“How long have you felt this way?”
“Can’t really pinpoint it, I don’t think it’s been long, but it doesn’t feel new either.”
Your eyes well up with tears, and he puts his hand back on your cheek. You lean into it. You felt deeply confused.
“I just never thought we’d…like…I just didn’t think you were into my like that.”
“Well, I am, so…what do you think? We already get along great. We like spending time together. I truthfully can’t stand other people. I think you’re the only person’s day I actually like hearing about. Have you really never thought about it?”
“I don’t know! You never made a move when we were in undergrad, with all those nights we slept next to each other, you never did anything…”
“Yeah, because you were asleep, Y/N.” He deadpans. “What did you want me to do? Feel you up while you were unconscious? Or better yet, make a move while we were both intoxicated?”
“No, of course not.” You shake your head. “I…I don’t know what I wanted. I just felt lucky that I had such a good friend.”
“Yeah, me too.” He sighs. “Look, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, this doesn’t need to be weird. Just know if you wanted to give it a try, I’d be down.”
“You’re genuinely attracted to me, like, physically?”
“Yes.” He chuckles. “And I like what you got going on up here too.” He taps your forehead with his index finger. “But you knew that already. What about me, are you physically attracted to me?”
“Well…yeah, you know you’re hot.”
“I didn’t ask you what I know.” He smirks.
“Okay, yeah, I’ve always thought you were handsome, but you used to really be a douchebag, it turned me off. Made it easier to just be your friend.” You smirk at him and he rolls his eyes.
“M’not like that anymore.” He inches closer to you. You could feel his minty breath fanning over you.
“I know.” You say just above a whisper. The mood had changed immensely. The dim lighting in your room was creating an atmosphere you had never really felt with him before.
“So…I guess the only thing left to figure out is if there’s any real heat between us.” You nod at him as his hand goes back to cradle your cheek once more. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”
“Yes.”
You move towards each other slowly, your lips gracefully pressing against each other’s. You felt scared as your eyes pinched closed. It was scary to kiss your best friend, and what was scarier was that fact that it felt so natural and seamless. He pulls away, just to see if you’ll chase him, and you do, kissing him again. You do the same to him, and he comes chasing after your soft lips.
“Harry.” You whisper as you press your forehead to his.
“Yeah?” He whispers back.
“I…I wanna have sex with you.”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
He cups both of your cheeks and pulls your lips back to his. His tongue peeks out to swipe along your bottom lip. He runs his lips back and forth over yours, and you open up for him. Your tongues meet, and you lick against each other, eliciting a moan from the both of you. You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he lets you lift it off. Your run your hands up and down his stomach as you continue to explore each other’s mouths, lips getting puffy and swollen. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth while he unzips the sweatshirt you’re wearing. He pushes it off your shoulders, and you shimmy it the rest of the way off. He’s met with your bare breasts, and he licks his lips as he looks at them.
Harry pulls you closer to him, and his lips press against your neck. You cling to his biceps as he works his mouth down your chest. He looks up at you as he sucks on one of your nipples, rolling it between your teeth. You can’t help your head from falling back. He slides down to the floor as he continues to kiss on you. Your mouth falls open as he nips and sucks on your stomach, and his fingers hook into your leggings. He looks up at you and you nod. He tugs your leggings and underwear down your legs and gets them all the way off.
“Y/N, you’re sure?”
“Yes, I want you to, please.”
You open your legs for him, and he just about loses it from your confidence. He leans forward and kisses each of your hips. You think he’s about to go for your center, but he sucks on your inner thigh. You flinch from the sensitivity, but it feels good. You make sure to sit up on your elbows so you can watch him. He looks up at you and licks a flat stripe between your folds. He sucks on each of your lips before spreading you apart with his thumbs to focus on your clit. He sucks on it at first, harshly, and you gasp. He uses the tip of his tongue to flick back and forth against it. He runs his hands along your thighs to keep you open for him. You were clenching around nothing. His tongue was warm and wet, and everything you needed.
Your body starts to feel warm all over, you can feel your orgasm start to bubble up from within your lower belly. You let yourself fall back against the bed as you start to pant. Your voice cracks as louder moans begin to rip through your throat. He was sucking and slurping on your cunt, noises you had never heard before while someone was going down on you. And to really push you over the edge, he was moaning into you. Not little whimpers or grunts, genuine moans that were vibrating into you.
“Oh my god!” You cry out. A few tears roll down your cheeks as he continues to lap around you, helping you come down.
He kisses back up your body until he’s hovering over you. He smears his lips over yours, and you grunt, pulling him closer to you. It was the filthiest kiss of your life, completely tasting yourself on him, but you didn’t care. He just made you feel better than anyone ever did. You push him so he’ll on his back, and this time you’re the one to sink onto the floor. You get his jeans and boxers down his legs. Your eyes bug out when you see his large prick slap back against his stomach.
“Christ, Harry.”
“As if you didn’t already know.” He smirks.
“I mean, I had an idea.”
You spit into your hand and wrap it around his length. He grits his teeth as you start to slowly pump him up and down. You run his tip along your lips, and his mouth falls open. Your tongue presses over his slit and you wrap your lips around him. You suckle his tip, eliciting a moan from him. You hollow your cheeks and sink almost all the way down on him. You just wanted to feel him down your throat. You breathe your nose and just hold him there.
“Y/N.” He stutters.
You slowly pull off of him, a string of spit keeping you connected. You suck in a breath before sinking back down on him, not quite as much as you took before, and you bob up and down his length. You cup his balls and massage them as you make a mess of his prick. There was spit, drool, and precome dripping down your chin. Harry was a panting mess on the bed. His hands were gripping at the sheets, and the sight of him doing that causes you to moan. To see his veins popping out the way they were was enough to make you come again.
“Y/N, fuck, I’m gonna come.”
You moan around him as his come spurts into your mouth. You swallow it all and suck him dry. He pulls you up to him, dumbfounded that you just did what you did.
“I thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He breathes.
“I do, I’ve heard you have pretty good stamina.” You peck his lips. “I’m sure you’ll get hard again soon.”
He groans and shifts his thighs between your legs, making you gasp. He grips your hips and starts moving you back and forth along his tiger tattoo. Your nails dig into his chest as you work to grind against him.
“H-Harry.” You mewl.
“Yeah, ride my fucking leg, baby, show me how you do it.”
“God.”
“I want you so bad, I wanna fuck you so bad, Y/N.”
“Oh, oh!” You come undone on his thigh. You lean down and press your lips to his, licking into his mouth. Before you know it he’s moving you up his body, turning you around, and licking back into your cunt. “Shit!”
He’s relentless with you, fucking you with his tongue, telling you to bounce up and down on him, and you listen. He sucks on your clit again, and you fall forward, head resting on his thigh. You watch as his cock bloats back up. You’d never know someone to enjoy doing this so much. You kiss on his thigh because you just needed to do something with your mouth. He makes you come again, and he lifts you off of his face.
“Think you can keep going?” He smirks as your head falls back against your pillows.
He grabs your legs and pushes them back so your knees press against the bed. He lifts your bum enough to rest on his thighs, and he dips his tongue back into your cunt. This was some serious teasing. You watch as his tongue goes in and out of you, deeper each time. He reaches forward with one of his hands to rub your clit. It was throbbing for him.
“Harry, please.”
“What, no good?”
“No, it’s amazing, but…I really wanna feel your dick now, please, I know you’re hard again.”
“You just taste so good.” He brings his mouth down to your cunt and sucks on it.
“This won’t be the only time I’ll let your head between my legs, I promise.” You let your legs drop back to lay normally. He sits back as you look at each other. “When was the last time you were tested? I…I’m clean, and if you are too, I’d prefer not to use a condom if you feel comfortable with that.”
“STD test came back negative a month ago when I went in for a checkup. You’re on the pill?”
“Yeah.”
He leans down to kiss you, and then he pulls back to paint his cock with your wetness that was uncontrollably leaking out of you for him. He presses his tip against your clit, and slides it down your slit. He pushes inside you slowly. He fills you to the hilt, and waits. For a moment he just wants to enjoy how tight and snug you are around him. You push your hips up and start rocking against him.
“Jesus, Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect.”
“Because I’m moving myself on you?” You giggle.
“I just think it’s cute that you’re so goddamn impatient.”
“Would you just shut up and show what you can do with this thing? Or am I gonna have to do all of this myself?”
He accepts the challenge, pulling his hips back, and snapping them forward. You reach behind yourself to press against the headboard so your head doesn’t smack against it. He drives it into you fast and deep. He pushes you to the brink of coming, but he pulls all the way out of you. Before you can complain he flips you over, and grabs your hips. He pulls you back to him and slips back inside. You moan out from the new angle, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours makes your eyes roll back. He gives your bum a light smack and you grunt.
“You can do that a little harder, a little.” You didn’t want him to fully spank you, you weren’t into that sort of thing, but you didn’t mind feeling it a little more. He delivers a harsher smack and you groan again.
“You have the best ass I’ve ever seen.” He smacks you again and you grip onto the pillows. He grips the back of your neck to get a steadier pace going, and he uses his other hand to rub your clit.
“Fuck, Harry. You’re so attentive.” You manage to say. You felt like you could barely breathe.
“I’m gonna ruin you for any other guy.”
“Don’t want any other guy.” You admit. “I don’t want anyone else to fuck me.”
“Christ.” He moans.
His fingers move faster on your clit, and his tip pounds against your g-spot, and you’re coming. You’re coming hard around him. He pulls out and sits up against the headboard. You look up at him, completely frazzled.
“I want you ride me.”
“Okay.” You breathe. You shuffle around and swing your leg over him. You line him up with yourself and sink down on him.
He fondles your breasts as you move up and down on him. He kisses on your chest as you get a rhythm going. He leans back just to watch your tits bounce up and down. He looks up at you and grips you by the back of your neck to pull your mouth down to his. You breathe each other in and out as you moan and gasp. He takes control by gripping your hips, and you cling to him to let him just do what he wanted with you. You tighten around him and his head falls back for a moment.
“Where can I come?” He asks.
“Where do you want to come?”
“Inside you.”
“Okay.”
“You’re okay with that?”
“Yes.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grunts.
You cry out as he does when he comes. You don’t think you had ever felt so full in your life. He kisses you as you both catch your breaths. You tug at his hair, and grind against him. You were close to coming again. He takes the hint and snakes his hand between you both and rubs your clit. Your orgasm rips through you, and you moan into his neck.
“I’m so fucking sweaty.” You whisper.
“Do you wanna take a shower?”
“Yeah.” You look up at him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Do I still have legs? Because I can’t feel them.”
He puffs out some air as he laughs, smoothing some hair away from your face.
“Yes, you still have legs, Y/N. Should I carry you to the bathroom?”
“Please, I really need to pee.”
He kisses your forehead and slowly lifts you off of him. You clench so nothing falls out. You didn’t want to make a bigger mess of your bed.
“We can sleep in my room and wash your sheets tomorrow, don’t worry about that.” He says as he carries you bridal style to the bathroom.
He sets you down on the toilet and steps out to give you some privacy. Once he hears the water for the shower start he comes back in. He splays a hand on your back and gives you a gentle rub before you both step in. You felt overwhelmed. You just had the best sex of your life with your very best friend. As he reaches for his body wash you swat his hand. He raises an eyebrow at you.
“Would you…would you just hold me?” Your bottom lip quivers, and he pulls you into his chest.
You nestle into him, and just stand under the warm water with him. He cradles your head and lets you cry into him. He starts to cry too, although he’s not really sure why.
“I don’t want anything to get fucked up between us, Harry.” You look up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I love you so much, and I don’t want something bad to happen that’ll make us hate each other.”
“M’not gonna let that happen.” He wipes your tears away, and then wipes away his own. “We’re gonna do this right. We’ll go out on dates, and we’ll see where it goes, and I hope it goes well because I love you too, and I value so many of the things we have with each other.”
You each take turns scrubbing each other down, getting clean. It’s soothing, and calming. You both relax, and get wrapped up into some towels. You run the blow dryer through your hair quickly just so it’s not sopping wet. He gives you one of his bed shirts to wear, and you crawl into bed with him. Being immersed in his scent was exactly what you needed. You rest your head on his chest, and he throws his arm around you.
“When was the last time you actually dated someone?” You ask softly.
“Um…think I was sixteen to be honest with you.”
“Ah, so a while.” You chuckle.
“You literally know my entire sexual history, and I know yours, let’s not pretend we’re both experts with all this.”
“So…we’ll just make this up as we go? I mean, I like that we sleep together sometimes, but I wanna keep my room, I don’t wanna move into the same room.”
“Christ, slow down, we just got together and you’re already talking about moving into the same bedroom?” You swat at his chest and he laughs, kissing the top of your head. “In all seriousness, I feel the same way, I think we should still have our separate spaces. You get pissed off with me easily.”
“Maybe you should try not to piss me off then.”
“Well, now that I know you enjoy a good tonguing, I’m not really worried about it. God, we can make up from a fight with sex instead of watching Dirty Dancing, it’s gonna be incredible.”
“Can…can we not do both?” You look up at him. “I love singing Hungry Eyes with you.”
“Yeah, both is good.”
“And I wanna make sure we clarify what are dates, and what’s just hanging out. I want dates to feel…special, I don’t know.”
“Can do. I think study dates at the library are gonna be my favorite.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I can rile you up. I’ll sit across from you to play footsie, and then I’ll run my foot up your leg. I’ll make eyes at you. You’ll end up blowing me in the bathroom, it’ll be great.”
“Mm, yes, well, what if my leg’s the one doing the rubbing? I could probably make you come in your pants from my foot on your crotch alone.”
“Okay, no study dates. You know what I would really like, though?”
“What?”
“Sometimes…sometimes I really miss you when I work double shifts at work, and then I feel bad because you’re here all by yourself…so maybe you could come to the coffee shop more? Hang out, do homework, I’ll give you free food.”
“Sounds like a sweet deal to me.” You bite your bottom lip. “You’re not gonna ask me to give up my Only Fans are you?”
“What? No, why would you even think that?”
“I don’t know…you’re the jealous type, Harry.”
“True…but if that’s what you wanna do for work, I don’t have a problem with it. Can I tell you a dirty secret?”
“Always.”
“I’m subscribed to your page.”
“You are?!”
“Yeah…I’ve never wanked to your stuff because I feel like that would be creepy, but I do keep up with what you post.”
“I’m not gonna do it forever, once I get a real job I won’t need it…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, babe. Even if you were doing the really filthy stuff, I wouldn’t care. That’s your business.”
“God, if I wasn’t so tired I’d hop on your dick again.”
He chuckles at that and gives your shoulder a squeeze.
“Any other questions?”
“I don’t think so. Although, I’m not looking forward to telling Rachel. The it’s about time or I told you so is not gonna be fun.”
“Same with Niall and Louis. We just gotta rip the band aid.”
You hum your response and get a little cozier by putting one of your legs over his. It was easy enough to fall asleep. You talked, so you weren’t worried about your friendship ending. If anything, it was all going to get better. Being able to kiss and touch on top of how you were with each other already was just the cherry on top. It didn’t happen over drinks, it didn’t happen in a club, and it didn’t happen by mistake. This was on purpose. He was the person you were supposed to be with, and he felt the same way.
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How to Exploit Kindness [A New Kind of Lila Salt Prompt]
[ Ive seen Lila and Class salt that goes a lot of different ways. In some Lilas a sad lonely girl who will do anything for friends and the class fall for her lies through a mixture of manipulation and Lila’s genuine sad lonely but real persona. In others Lila is insane and the class get basically sucked into her cult. And in others still, Lila slowly breaks the class down by preying on there insecurities, hidden jealousies ect. There are the versions where Lila just bribes the class with connections and the versions where Lila frames Marinette until no one believes her. But I wanted to write a new idea for people to use, one that I feel is a bit more realistic. One where Marinette’s classmates are more their more authentic kind selves but still get slowly pulled into Lila’s web and where Lila is just a bit more intelligent. ]
[ As usual with all my prompts feel free to borrow the idea to write for your own thing salt, sugar, cuteness angst ect just be sure to credit me for the idea so I can read it. ]
Lila was furious! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to be everyone's friend! She was supposed to finally get a cute perfect boyfriend who would cherish her like she deserved! She was supposed to be HAPPY! But no, the pathetic beetle Ladybug and that goody two shoes Marinette kept ruining everything!
No… No that wasn’t quite true. As much as she wanted to blame her problems on those two it wasn’t entirely their faults. Honestly Lila wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Her lies had been working at first, they had gotten her praise and compliments and adoration and friendship! But now? Now they were all ignoring her, unimpressed by her celeb lies! She could not understand it! At first she’d been sure it was Marinette or Ladybug maybe even Adrien had turned on her! But when she’d probed for information she’d learned that none of them had blown the whistle. So what was it! Tomorrow… Tomorrow she will find out one way or another. She needed to get them back under her thumb somehow.
It was Chloe who gave Lila her answers. Chloe was the reason none of her classmates cared about her stories! Chloe was the idiot mayor's brat. And what a brat she was constantly wiggling her way into her mothers fashion shoots or had celebrities over at the hotel. Of course Lila’s classmates didn’t care about Lila’s celebrity connections because Chloe was always name dropping just as many people as herself. The only difference was Lila used fake modesty and shyness that made her ‘friends’ view her lies in less of a gloating light than Chloe’s haughty claims of celebrity meetings.
It was a damn shame, celebrity lies were her bread and butter, they were exciting got people to think you were important and they were hard to prove or disprove allowing Lila to easily get around the messy little detail of ‘proof’ if someone asked for pictures all she could say was that her mom didn't let her take any because she didn't want her precious daughter being targeted by crazy fans. And if someone asked her to use her celebrity connections? Well she could just turn on the water works and cry about them just being her friend for her connections. Thus her prey would be forced to be her ‘friend’ , always listening to her and doing things for her, unable to ask for anything in return. Then when her mother announced their next move Lila would tearfully say goodbye and leave all her suckers behind. But without the sway of her celebrity lies her system broke down. That was the problem with picking the school full of rich talented idiots she supposed.
Well with Chloe ruining her system she’d need a new one. Scrolling through her classmates' social media for a clue she sneered at their overly cheerful and cutesy posts. Always encouraging one another and posting encouraging puff pieces about this or that. Always acting like they were so nice. As Lila scrolled over a charity fundraiser event that Alya had retweeted from Milene a sudden thought crossed her mind. Her classmates were very ‘nice’ and annoyingly so. They were always butting into each other's business, always being SO concerned, always organizing events to help each other and appreciate each other and going to charity events.
In fact now that she thought about it the stories that had intrigued her ‘friends’ always had some sort of charity garbage attached. Saving Jagged’s kitten or raising money for some cause or other that always got her heaps of praise. Sure saying Clara whatshername stole her dance moves got attention but not in the same way saying she raised money for some green project. Was it really that simple? Sure her classmates all loved Marinette for her extreme generosity and kindness but was it REALLY that simple? She needed to check.
It was actually that easy. One simple little lie about how she pulled a blind old man out of danger when he was nearly run over and suddenly the class was bathing her in praise. And the ‘fact’ that the whole very real thing made her miss first period and sprain her ankle? Well that was just the cherry on top. Suddenly Max was offering her a copy of his notes and everyone was back to caring for her like she was a princess. The fact that Marinette looked like she was seething only for sweet naive Adrien to keep her mouth shut was just so perfect. She’d found her golden ticket. Her classmates were truly ‘good kind people’ and nothing could be exploited quite like kindness.
With this knowledge Lila would easily be able to destroy Marinette, sure she wouldn’t be able to do it quickly but slowly she would replace her, with every good deed she made up with every act of false modesty she would build a reputation greater than Marinette’s she would replace her and become there new ‘everyday ladybug’ and the best part was she wouldn’t have to say ANYTHING against Marinette. Not. A. Thing. No sweet righteous Marinette would eventually snap, sadly for her it would probably be too late with how much control Adrien had over her, so when it happened Marinette would look like the jealous crazy girl going after the girl that was kinder, sweeter, and better than herself. As for Adrien… Well she had a hard time believing it at first but he really was an idiot with a pretty face as long as she was careful as she built her new reputation he would genuinely believe that she was changing for the better and then he'd fall for her.
The best part was, her classmates were genuine. As she built her new good girl heart of gold persona they would genuinely come to love her, all the loyalty Marinette got to enjoy all the perks of being friends with such talented, kind, sweet people would become hers. Slowly no matter how Marinette struggled she would lose, eventually she’d have nothing left. Of course she’d need to be careful with her lies but that was easy. Bring the class to a charity here and there and tell them that she was the one who gave the idea for the charity to the actual organizer but didn't want any credit because she was just that kind and humble. If they tried to make her do actual work then she’d have a sudden accident that would require she sit down.
And then once she’d done more photoshoots with Adrien for Gabriel she’d ‘convince’ the man that a charity would make him look good and boost sales. She’d MAKE her lies true all while winning over her future father in law, and heck maybe she’d even pocket a little of the money, she could use a better wardrobe and the extra would be perfect to buy her ‘friends’ the occasional ice cream or presents. In between that she’d just lie about saving people or volunteering on weekends. Maybe even let it ‘slip’ how she was a temp hero for Ladybug . One of the sweetest parts was that between volunteering with Lila, there own activities and hanging out with Lila so she could ‘thank them for their hard work’ no one would be spending a second hanging out with sweet pink little Marinette, they'd abandon her without even realizing it because they’d be SO busy. Sadly this plan of hers would take a little more work then her others, but it would be worth it to become the queen bee of the class- NO the school! And when Marinette eventually slipped up and looked like the biggest jealous bully in the school. Well she’d have no choice but to leave the school with her tail in between her legs.
Victory was looking sweet and satisfying.
[ And where it goes from here is up to you. Lila can win, she can slowly convince the class and school that she's a model citizen and an everyday hero. She can sneakily maneuver the class to not spend time with Marinette slowly separating the girl from her friends. In this way Alya and the rest of them don't become evil salty versions of themselves who overnight hate Marinette and love Lila, but rather they are good naive people who got slowly separated and tricked by someone who wants to use their genuine talents and skills to make herself look better. Adrien who is already shown to be naive and wants to believe the best in people, can fall into Lila’s trap and become genuinely convinced that his high road method really worked and ‘reformed’ Lila into a better person. OR Lila can fail, she can claim to be the wrong temporary hero for ladybug, or she can pick the wrong charity to lie about, or get exposed any number of ways and the class can realize with horror that because they are kind but flawed people who are perhaps too trusting and gullible that they got pulled away from Marinette through subtle manipulation and so they can be redeemed because instead of turning into outright bullies they stayed the same kind people they always were but just got genuinely tricked which is something that can actually happen in real life. You can go heavy salt where Marinette does eventually leave the school or class heartbroken that her kind friends have fallen prey to a bad person Marinette cant find a way to expose. Or you can go clever salt where Marinette figures out Lila’s plan and fights her from the inside slowly exposing the cracks in her facade. Or you can go sugar and redemption where maybe just maybe Lila actually LIKES being nice to people and having real friends who dont care about her fake celeb connections, maybe she honestly redeems herself and even makes amends with Marinette. You can do genuinely anything with this idea and I hope to see this generate some new less *and suddenly everyone is evil* content for those that like salt and angst. ]
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questions i have for the signs
libra suns – do you learn a lot from observing other people’s behaviours? because libras do so well in group settings, and they value their emotional intelligence and ability for being likeable a lot. once, a libra sun man came up to me and just told me that he learned a lot of his behaviours from observing others and that’s how he learned better coping mechanisms/better ways of expressing himself and his emotions. at first, i found that absolutely preposterous because as someone who’s always focused so much on my own individuality and authenticity, the thought of taking aspects from other people just repulsed me, but the more i think about it, the more it makes sense – after all, there’s so much to learn from others and since observational skills are so important, why not use them to better ourselves?
also, to my libra suns once again – how the hell have you managed to build a reputation for being stable and peaceful? i swear every libra i’ve ever met was absolutely unstable – the type to throw their phones on the wall during arguments, to randomly go up to me and start psychoanalysing me, to immediately go confrontational mode no matter if they were in the middle of class, simply because they couldn’t leave shit unresolved. i’ve noticed your tendency for playing devil’s advocate in every situation in the name of “fairness” has you being VERY confrontational. it’s kinda refreshing not gonna lie.
now, ladies.. have we noticed how misogynistic cancer sun men can be or am i losing my mind? i swear to god i’ve never met ONE in my life who didn’t have extremely sexist opinions. even the ones who seem like great people and who get along with everybody – they still think that girls who sleep around casually have no self-respect and that sex workers are disgusting. also, hating on girls for doing the buss it challenge and for posting pictures where they’re showing skin and feeling themselves? saying they’re sluts? as if they’re not the same men who click on those videos? not only the misogynist part, but also extreme anger issues that come out at the most unexpected times. i believe it’s their traditionalist views and their hatred for their own femininity that has them projecting their insecurities onto other women. either way, cancer men terrify me. perhaps it’s that my father’s a cancer and he’s the blueprint of all terrible men in my life, or perhaps cancer men really are batshit crazy. either way, please change my mind lol there are probably some good ones out there but my experience has me believing otherwise
pisces mars – (18+) do you get pleasure from simply pleasuring your partner? i do this and i feel like it’s to a point where it’s toxic, every time i’m the one receiving i’ll be thinking about how i could be using this time to pleasure them instead, even if it feels really good. i don’t know what it is but the act of knowing i’m making someone feel good feels 1000 times better than everything else, it feels my soul and i think it’s a pisces mars thing. it’s crazy because it’s only in sexual matters, in day-to-day basis i’m very assertive but in bed i’m extremely submissive and just want to fulfil all of my partner’s needs. do you also have very intricate sexual fantasies that you’re constantly thinking about? also, are you masoquistic? i’ve seen other pisces mars talking about this, about how they get off on pain a lot and it makes me feel less alone. it might also relate to lilith in the 12th house because it indicates mixing pain with pleasure + escapism through fantasies + some very extreme fetishes like r*pe-play. let’s start this discussion lol
leo placements – how does it feel like being the baddest bitches alive? serious answers only. also stop making me fall in love with you it’s annoying
capricorn/scorpio suns, do you gravitate a lot towards one another? im a capricorn and i attract a lot of scorpio placements, and scorpios are the people who bring me the most intense personal transformations. it’s also definitely because i have scorpio in the 8th, but either way, i feel like these two signs attract each other like crazy because they’re the darkest signs. scorpio simbolizes death while capricorn simbolizes the devil, they’re both so difficult, complex and drawn to dark topics that i feel like it’s a match made in heaven – or hell. i’ve also observed that the most powerful power-couples in media are always relationships between capricorns and scorpios, too.
moon in the 10th house natives – do people baby you a lot? i feel like i’ll just be walking down the streets and my friends will be screaming at me to be careful like i’m a 5 year old, or offering to do things for me, or feeling an inherent need to supervise me as if i’ll get in deep shit if i’m left alone for more than 5 minutes LOL but i do think it’s something about this placement. moon in the 10th indicates being very emotional and getting easily overwhelmed, also a lot of charisma and being very sensitive when it comes to personal relationships. also the way we radiate authority makes others unconsciously be more obedient towards our needs, and we have a very strong need to protect others and create a family within our friend groups, which might be creating these dynamics.
leo suns/moons/risings – do you feel like having a low self-esteem quite literally contributes to the deterioration of your physical health? i think there’s such a stark difference between when you’re feeling insecure and in an unhealthy relationship vs when you leave the toxicity behind and work on your self-confidence, there’s an immediate glow up, like you’re literally glowing and it shows.
gemini suns – why do so many people hate you? even people who know nothing about astrology will say they hate geminis. genuine question because geminis are one of my favorite signs. i think it’s something about the way you easily adapt to other people’s personalities and mirror their energy, so you’ve built this reputation for being two-faced when you’re literally just.. socially intelligent.
air moons – how tf can you turn your emotions off? what do you mean using logic instead of feelings i will literally unalive myself
capricorn moons – how does it feel like having healthy coping mechanisms? oh wait, it’s not like you’d know LMFAOOOO
scorpio mars – are you as sexual as people portray you to be or do you feel a bit weird about the way people talk about you? because people always talk about scorpio mars as this sex machines, but like.. scorpio’s a water sign. very sensitive. i’ve noticed you guys literally avoid having sex with people because it’s like giving them a part of your soul, and you know you’ll get extremely attached to them afterwards. is sex a casual thing for you or can you only feel satisfied when there’s an emotional connection established? this goes for all water sign mars by the way.
scorpio risings – do you only listen to music that you feel has a deep meaning? my brother is a scorpio rising and he prides himself a lot on his music taste and how deep the music he listens to is. and as an aries rising im just like.. sir i listen to doja cat because hearing her sing about sex and fat tiddies makes me happy
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