#then again the teacher has already assumed i was dropping out so whats the difference if

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (07/10)

To Dragonstone / Lovers

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: the trip to Dragonstone arrives and things between you and Aemond may remain distant or may take a big turn. you are sure of your feelings but does he feel the same way?

word count: 8.4k

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hello!

even i'm surprised that i updated and it didn't take me two or almost three weeks, but here it is!

i'm so happy for the recognition the story is getting, truly, thank you so much beautiful people, i hope you like this chapter a lot too. i'm looking forward to your comments!

After what happened… there was a total change of behavior between you and Aemond.

Even that same day after he didn't drop you off at your house because you told him that Alysanne would be the one to drive you, that night he texted you that there was a party at one of his friend's house.

You didn't reply right away, you just watched the message appear on the top of your screen silently and did nothing.

And after a few minutes he texted you again telling you that if you didn't want to go with him, he was fine with it. And you just texted him back a short; have fun!

But still, you couldn't help but feel completely different, with this strange feeling and a knot in your stomach at having this distance with him.

But he didn't text you again for anything else.

Even also on that same day you saw Helaena, who told you again how sorry she and her mother were still. You also saw Aegon, but he just kept walking, acting completely unconcerned and as if the dinner had never happened.

And now, with things weird and distant with Aemond, today is the trip to Dragonstone.

You assume that you and Aemond will continue to pretend, since there was never a definitive statement where both he and you said you would no longer pretend. But since that night he told you about the party, he and you haven't spoken again.

There's really no plan for the trip. You don't even know if he and you will do this together, as a couple. You just don't know anything.

But you recognize that the two of you made a contract that includes the Dragonstone trip and also ending the fake relationship until graduation. So you prepare yourself despite the circumstances.

Besides you won't be alone, as Alysanne has also signed up for the trip, who just now is keeping you updated on all the things going on in her life as you both drag your respective suitcases along.

"But I don't know if I should say yes to him yet."

You let out a sigh, already feeling tired as you feel the weight of everything in your suitcase. But you can't really blame yourself because it's an all-weekend trip to the beach, so you should have brought everything you needed.

"To who?" you ask with the breath you're gathering, as you tighten your grip on your suitcase.

"Didn't you hear everything I said?" she inquires, "To Cregan."

"Ah… and why don't you know?"

"Well, you know…" she gives you a knowing look, "I don't know, he seems too perfect to me and there must be something wrong with him," she raises her index finger at you, "And he's too popular for my liking."

You frown, still walking as she does, heading toward the buses in the school parking lot that will take you all to Kings Landing port.

"Wait," you say confused, "So he already asked you out?" you look at her slightly surprised, struggling to keep up.

"Yeah," she says casually, "But I don't know."

"Oh come on," you look at her serious, "He's very nice, handsome, funny and a gentleman."

But she grimaces, showing her skepticism.

"Not exactly my type."

You roll your eyes, amused.

Then you both stop behind a line of people waiting to board one of the buses while one of the teachers notes on a list the students' attendance by asking for first and last name, so you have to wait.

"I think you should go out with him," you say, turning to look at her.

"Uhh…" she stares into the void, thoughtfully and doubtfully, "I don't know, bestie."

"He's a good match," you try to convince her, encouraged, "Besides he's already completely crazy about you."

"That's the problem," she sentences, "I'm not looking for a serious relationship right now. It seems better to me that we both just go out, have fun together and nothing else, no strings attached."

"He probably won't refuse the idea," you shrug, "But tell him and don't leave him waiting with his hopes high."

She snorts, gesturing with her hand.

"He's a man. I'm sure he can handle me never giving him an answer."

You let out a laugh.

"Don't be mean, Alysanne."

"What?" she looks at you innocently.

"Come on, you can do better than that."

"No, I don't think so."

You both let out a laugh now and are about to say something else to him, when a third voice interrupts you in conversation.

"Y/N?"

The two turn their heads and walking towards you, it's Aemond, with a somewhat unsure and nervous posture, which is totally unusual for him, but he's still watching you completely attentively.

He's wearing a white t-shirt and a black jacket over it, which makes him look ridiculously good for a common outfit. But what also catches your attention is how he has a silver chain sticking out from around his neck.

And God… why are you suddenly so nervous about being in front of him?

"Do you have a minute?"

You look uncertainly at him and then at Alysanne, having no idea what to say, further increasing your nerves.

"Hum—

"Go," Alysanne says to you, "I'll wait in line for both of us."

"Oh… all right."

You reply, smiling a little in her direction, only to walk over to Aemond and both of you step back a little so you can talk more privately.

And it's at that moment that your heart starts beating like crazy and you bite your lips, crossing your arms over your chest, nervous and a little… embarrassed.

"Listen," he starts to say, in a low and soft voice, "I just want to say that I'm really sorry for the way I reacted the other day," he tells you sincerely, "I'm sure I made you feel uncomfortable and to some extent trapped but believe me that was never my intention. Nor was it my intention for things to get weird between us."

"Yeah, yeah, I understand, don't worry," you nod, trying to hide your nerves and trying to look unconcerned, you too wanting to put this behind you, "I'm sorry too for trying to end it all that way."

"No, it's not okay," he assures you, "I just didn't understand anything and got frustrated," he admits to you gently, "And that wasn't right of me. Now I know how overwhelmed you must have felt with everything that happened."

"I-I guess I got scared and that was the easiest way I could think of to end it all when that wasn't right on my part either. After all… we have a contract—

"The contract thing doesn't matter," he interrupts you with a nonchalant gesture, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, "The important thing is that we're both okay and that we don't distance ourselves from each other."

You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of relief at hearing his words.

"Yeah, you're right."

"So… everything good?" he asks you completely attentively.

"Yes, all good," you assure, wanting to put any misunderstandings behind you.

He is about to say something when one of his friends calls out to him from the line to board the bus.

"Aemond!"

You both turn your heads and his friend along with the teacher in charge watch him intently from the bus doors.

"I need to see your signed permission form, son," the teacher tells him.

He nods and goes back to watching you.

"I'll see you inside," he says before walking away towards his friend and you nod.

You walk back with Alysanne to the line and watch Aemond just a few feet in front of you, talking to the professor, and then he and his friend carry their bags up to the bottom compartments of the bus, eventually moving up the line.

And God… this is the sense of relief you so desperately needed to finally feel. Knowing that you're going to do this with Aemond, all about Dragonstone, relieves and excites you.

However, you should have assumed that even then things would get weird, because the feeling doesn't last long when you see Floris approach Aemond and the two of them start talking.

At first you don't think anything of it, but then, you see the way Floris approaches and behaves towards him.

A tingle of jealousy begins to bubble deep in your stomach as you watch the two of them talk. You also watch as some students watch the two of them and then you, standing apart, with curious and mischievous looks, surely waiting for the drama.

It's as if everyone knows what Aemond and Floris once were, only to then watch you, the new girlfriend, fade into the background after Floris has returned to school.

And Aemond's behavior towards you comes back to your mind.

He himself told you that he did not expect to see her again, so on another plane and in other circumstances, if Floris had not left the school, you are absolutely sure that Aemond would have required her help, totally.

And this between him and you would never have happened.

And maybe… Aemond is still interested in Floris, just as she seems to be still interested in him. But he can't do anything about it because he already has an agreement with you, he's stuck with you.

This relationship is fake, remember?

Your mind tells you, since for Aemond it's not real, but rather pure convenience, just an act, but for you… it's getting harder and harder to ignore the feelings that arise inside you.

Is it possible that your feelings are more real than you have allowed yourself to believe?

You watch as Aemond seems to want to subtly pull away from her to have his own space, but Floris moves closer again, as if they both share something that only the two of them know and that's why she has the confidence, even though he has a girlfriend, to act that way with him.

Which only makes you more annoyed and jealous.

But finally the line starts to move forward and you decide you won't give it any more thought. What's the point of worrying about something that, in theory, isn't real?

You board the bus behind Alysanne, where everything inside is full of excitement and energy, with students talking and laughing as they settle into their seats.

Then your gaze almost instantly meets Aemond's as you look at the seats, sitting in one of the first seats with the seat next to him empty, watching you intently and with a small smile on his lips, clearly waiting for you.

The temptation to go sit next to him is strong, but you decide to ignore it and keep walking behind Alysanne, passing him. And that instantly makes him react.

"Hey, hey," he quickly stands up and gently takes you by the arm, watching you with his soft gaze reflecting bewilderment, "Where are you going?"

Your nerves dissipate and you try to come up with a good excuse.

"Hum… you know, to sit with Alysanne," you point to your friend.

He follows your gaze but frowns, confused.

"But don't you think we should sit together?"

You stay silent for a few seconds, watching him intently and nervous, trying to come up with a better excuse. But he speaks again, trying to convince you.

"I packed snacks for both of us on the way and thought maybe we could watch a movie or something."

"Maybe on the way back," you say with an apologetic look, feeling the weight of his gaze on you.

And he frowns slightly, his gaze reflecting a mixture of disappointment and confusion as he tries to understand your behavior.

The two of you a few moments ago spoke, the two of you apologized to each other and you especially said that everything was okay or not? That's what keeps him confused, not understanding why the two of you are suddenly continuing this distancing, noticing your efforts to pull away from him.

"Come on," he insists, "Let Cregan sit with her."

"I'm sorry, Aemond," you say, "But I promised her I'd sit with her."

He seems to want to argue back, but you waste no more time and finally walk past him, moving away from him straight toward Alysanne in one of the seats almost at the back.

Aemond with a serious look sighs resignedly, feeling the disappointment inside, confused and with disillusion, not really understanding anything.

And when you arrive together with Alysanne, just as you take your seat, you look back to where Aemond is with a worried look and at that moment Floris appears, stopping in front of him with a small sweet smile on her lips.

"Will someone sit here?" she asks politely even though she already knows the answer, her tone with a familiarity that makes you stir in your seat.

Aemond turns his gaze back to you with a mixed expression of seriousness and disappointment before answering Floris.

"No," he replies with some annoyance, dropping back into his seat with a droopy attitude.

Floris complacently takes a seat next to him and you watch everything from afar, telling yourself that this is all a bad idea, with a swirl of emotions all over you.

So all the way to King's Landing port begins, where you distract yourself listening to music and avoid looking towards the seats where Aemond is with Floris.

At all times you feel this uncertainty and this unpleasant feeling that does not leave you in peace, even makes you feel sad, but Alysanne by your side manages to distract you in some moments.

Until you finally arrive at the port and in organized groups, the teachers make sure that all the students board the ferry that goes directly to Dragonstone.

Everyone around you starts taking pictures and videos of the wonderful view the ferry offers of Blackwater Bay, excited to get to Dragonstone.

And you start looking for Aemond with your eyes, finding him leaning on the ferry's railing with one of his friends next to him, both talking, but he has a more thoughtful expression as he gazes out at the ocean.

Despite being surrounded by people and his friends especially, he is distant. And you know he's like this because of you.

For one reason he asked to talk to you and clear up what happened between the two of you. You assured him that everything was fine and then pushed him away.

But can you really blame yourself?

You're fucking scared.

And for a reason Floris acts that way with him, because whatever there once was between the two of them, it's not over yet, you can feel it. And you have no right to reproach him for that because this is not real.

Still… it's better for you to start slowly pulling away from him and put on a show when it's really necessary. But how will you be able to do this together when things are like this?

That's why the uncomfortable feeling on the bus persists and Alysanne tries to distract you by taking pictures of the view, a selfie of the two of you together or by herself.

But despite these efforts, you can't stop thinking about Aemond and watching him from time to time.

Until the ferry finally docks at Dragonstone Island and the students begin to walk ashore with their suitcases in hand, full of excitement and high expectations for what awaits them this year on site.

And since you have never visited Dragonstone before, you watch in complete awe and amazement as the majestic and imposing modern castle stands before you almost on the water's edge.

It looks like a living museum, offering the relics of Old Valyria and its history, paying homage to the ancient house Valyria, a royal family that once ruled Westeros with the legend of having tamed dragons in their Reign.

The entire castle is made of stone, as well as its surroundings and all it has to offer.

And once inside, everything is majestically structured and spacious, with architecture of royalty, preserving that touch and the one that many decades ago a royal and powerful family lived here.

With a male guide, who is also chaperon of this 'excursion', he welcomes all the students and begins to guide them through the main corridors of the castle.

You are amazed to see the numerous display cases with ancient swords that had forged the history of the Valyrian house, as well as other possessions, be they wardrobes or jewelry of gold, silver and other precious stones.

There are also portraits of the ancient Kings and Queens who had ruled, as well as portraits of princes and princesses with the name, date of birth and date of death.

Being your first time in this place, it is obvious that you are excited compared to other students who have come here before and just want to have fun.

But you sense how the atmosphere is steeped in history and mystery. So you can't wait to learn more about this history that was in an ancient and legendary world.

"For those who don't already know, there are various activities you can do during your stay on the island," says the guide man, "You can enjoy the beach and swim in our crystal clear waters, but you can also dive with professional instructors to explore the coral reefs and marine life, as well as we also offer surfing lessons for beginners."

"I want to try surfing," Alysanne says next to you, without both of them letting up, and you watch her in surprise.

"Really?"

"I don't plan to dive, I feel like I'll go crazy with claustrophobia with so much suit and gear on me, not to mention you can't talk," she tells you with a grimace, "And swimming is so boring. I want something more exciting."

"And you can handle that?"

"Please, I can handle anything," she says with a certain superiority, making you laugh, "And what do you plan to do? Obviously not surf but then what?"

"Hum…" you think about it for a moment, "I don't know, maybe I'll visit the huge library and learn more about the history of this place and the whole Valyrian family."

Alysanne looks at you completely expectantly and showing you how much your answers have bored her.

"Are you serious?"

"We also offer a tour of our small aquarium located in the depths of the castle, where you can see a variety of fish and sea creatures," he man goes on to mention, "And lastly, we offer rides on our yachts and scooters along the coast, there are also paddle boarding lessons along our peaceful canals that meander through the island."

You look back at Alysanne beside you.

"Or maybe I'll join the paddling classes," you say with a shrug.

But that only makes Alysanne look at you like you're a hopeless case, sigh, and continue moving on, not telling you any more about your plans or she's afraid it will make you feel bad.

And you let out a little laugh, since of course you also want to enjoy the beach and also want a yacht ride.

And as all the students continue to move forward and you along with them, you still feel the tension between you and Aemond, who is moving a few meters ahead of you with his friends.

Despite the beauty and excitement of Dragonstone, still this uneasiness continues to weigh on your being.

First night at Dragonstone and you've already been left alone.

Alysanne stated that she wanted to enjoy the luxurious bathtub in the room to immerse herself in a relaxing spa experience, so that's what she's doing now before starting the rough activities tomorrow.

And meanwhile you're stealing snacks from the huge kitchen since you've prepared one night of movies for yourself, which isn't a bad plan.

So with your pajamas on, you go back to the room, thankful that you didn't have any awkward encounters with anyone. In fact you were hoping to run into him, but that hasn't happened and you have no idea where he must be.

So with your snacks in hand and in the huge hallway where your room is located, you struggle a bit to open your door with your hands full, when someone enters the same hallway where you are.

"Hey Y/N."

You turn your head and meet Cregan, causing you to place a smile on your face in his direction.

"Hey Cregan."

He watches you with a small amused smile.

"Do you need help?"

"Well, I-I…" you try one more time, but everything is about to fall out of your hands, "Yeah," you finally agree.

He helps you with your snacks and also opens the door for you, then watches you curiously.

"Are you preparing one night of snacks and probably watching movies with Alysanne?"

"No," you reply laughing softly, "No, I—

"Ah, so you're going with Aemond to the hot tub," he interrupts you in a casual tone, assuming.

Confused by that revelation, you try to process the information, but before you can even pretend and react, which you really don't and remain silent like a fool, he notices and looks at you slightly confused.

"Oh, well... on my way here saw him alone in the hot tub and thought you were going with him."

And just then it happens.

Something snaps inside you.

An overwhelming sense of need overwhelms you from head to toe, you can't help it and you can't take it anymore.

You need to talk to someone about the truth and release everything you've been accumulating these past few days. But you know that if you do that, you would be breaking a contract rule.

But the thought of still holding all this in and not being able to talk to anyone about what's really going on is unbearable.

Alysanne would freak out and you have no one else to talk to. It's not like you have a lot of friends. So thinking hard, you quickly map out a plan in your mind and decide to confide in Cregan.

"Do you have a moment?" you ask with a lump in your throat.

Cregan gets confused and looks hesitant.

"Well, I—

"Alysanne is relaxing in the tub, she won't be out of there for a while and I really need to talk to someone about this," you plead.

And that's enough for Cregan to walk into the room behind you as he sees your face like you're about to explode and you tell him everything.

And God, it's a complete relief to be able to speak freely, without the pressure of keeping up the farce.

And you start by explaining to him why you decided to fake a relationship, and then tell him these feelings that you can't ignore anymore, as well as explaining everything you're feeling about Floris and how things are between you and Aemond.

And by this point, Cregan is very comfortable sitting on your bed, eating from your snacks while you wander around your room talking freely about everything that comes to your mind and he listens attentively.

"I'm completely crazy, aren't I?"

You watch him completely frustrated and looking for support, as the ideas and thoughts keep coming uncontrollably into your mind.

"I mean, this is fake," you clarify, waving your hands as you speak, "This wasn't supposed to happen, he just asked me for help and I asked for something in return to accept. And he clearly doesn't feel the same way I do."

You look at him in exasperation, worried.

"And I know I acted wrong with him this morning on the bus but—" you sigh, "You should have seen how he reacted when he saw Floris at school again. This whole thing with Aemond probably wouldn't have happened if Floris hadn't left school, it's obvious there's still something between the two of them and that makes me feel… so upset and so jealous when I shouldn't!" you exclaim frustrated, "And I find it best to just stay away from him so I can stop feeling all this and my big mouth won't even think of telling him how I really feel."

"Y/N—

"I'm right, right?" you don't let him speak, watching him completely intently and worriedly, "I'm crazy."

Cregan smiles softly in your direction in an attempt to comfort you and shakes his head, as he takes another bite of a chocolate bread.

"No, not at all," he replies sincerely, "You're just being honest with yourself and me."

You stop in front of him, fiddling nervously with the fingers of your hands.

"I had to blurt it out," you say dejectedly, "I'm so confused. And you have to promise not to tell anyone," you tell him instantly.

"I promise," he tells you instantly too, nodding.

"So what do you think?"

He lets out a long breath before answering, watching you calmly and quietly, preparing in his mind what he will tell you next, while you wait desperately and anxiously.

"Listen, I think it doesn't matter that the two of you have been pretending all this time, but Aemond likes you, a lot."

He assures you and your heart leaps, parting your lips and watching him completely intently.

"I've seen the way he stares at you—

"Have you already forgotten that all this time we've been pretending?" you interrupt him in exasperation.

"And you think you can fake a look of love if he's not really in love?" he asks you, expectantly.

You let out a sigh, bringing a hand to your forehead, massaging your temples.

"That doesn't matter, I feel he still has feelings for Floris and I'm just another fool who fell in love with Aemond Targaryen," you look at him hopelessly, "And if you think about it, it's embarrassing."

"Okay, let's analyze the facts," he says confidently, incorporating himself better on the bed, "The fake relationship was his idea, you set most of the important rules and you're the one who wants to end the relationship, but you're here locked in your room preparing a movie night for yourself alone while he's waiting for you in the hot tub," he tells you condescendingly while pointing at the door with his thumb.

You watch him completely attentively, almost hesitant and unsure, thinking about it.

"And if you think about it precisely, yes, Aemond and Floris had something but it was nothing serious, he later went back to Alys and now that he erased Alys from his life, there is you and no one else," he explains to you, "Floris' return means nothing because he could have told you that it was better to end the fake relationship when he saw her again, but he didn't tell you anything, it was you," he assures you, "And yes, maybe you fell in love first, but eventually he also fell in love with you and harder."

Cregan's every word hits you like a wave of revelation, making you rethink your perceptions and doubts.

Maybe, in the midst of all this confusion, conflict and your doubts, Cregan is right.

Maybe Aemond really is in love with you, despite the fake relationship, Alys and Floris… maybe he is and the thought is as overwhelming as it is comforting.

If so… then what will happen?

You don't know but wanting to find out excites and scares you at the same time.

"Do you think he's waiting for me in the hot tub?" is the only question you can utter out of the thousands in your mind, watching him hopefully.

"Of course," he gives you an obvious look.

So you waste no time.

You leave on your pajamas of silk shorts with a tank top of the same fabric and throw a coat on over them. It's not really cold but the air here on the island is frosty enough for you.

And as you step outside a part of the castle where the hot tub is located, with your heartbeat echoing in your ears, you are greeted by a cool, salty breeze that caresses your skin.

The hot tub area is illuminated by a series of lights hanging from the ends of the trees, creating a calm and relaxing atmosphere. But what stands out the most is the blue light of the hot tub.

And there you see him.

You focus on the lone figure of Aemond as you move forward, who has his back to you, gazing off into the horizon, thoughtful while also distracted by the bubbles the hot tub is making around him.

You pause for a moment, watching him from a distance, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your chest.

The silver chain around his neck shines with a soft glow from the blue light, adding a touch of mystery to his profile, just as his white skin glows slightly from the glint of water on his skin.

The sound of the hot tub echoes in place, as well as the ocean waves outside and with nerves blocking your mind, you finally approach him, with quiet determination.

"Mind if I join you?"

You say to him with some insecurity and in a soft tone, hugging yourself, nervous and attentive.

Aemond turns his head towards you and his eye meets yours.

And if his gaze reflected surprise, he quickly turns back to an unexpressive face and without saying absolutely nothing to you, where you also tried to smile a little at him, he turns his gaze back to the front.

And you don't let it get to you, at least not yet.

"What? Now you're going to ignore me?"

And thankfully that's enough to make him talk to you. At least a little bit.

"Oh now I'm the one ignoring you?" he retorts bitterly, without even looking at you, "That's funny."

And he continues to turn his back on you, without saying anything else, to which you let out a long breath and without giving up yet, thinking about what Cregan told you and also considering your feelings, you approach him.

With hesitant steps, you climb the steps leading to the entrance of the hot tub and approach the edge, feeling the warmth of the water and the gentle steam rising in the air.

Feeling Aemond's gaze on you, you take a seat on the edge and dip your feet into the water as you return his gaze, which makes your heart pound in your chest again.

He is completely beautiful.

And the words don't come out of your mouth as you are hypnotized for a moment watching the flashes of light on his serene face with his flawless skin and those features that make him look so handsome.

But you finally focus.

"Well, I'm sorry this is my first trip here and I have no idea how to do the activities when you didn't even offer to guide me," you foolishly try to justify yourself.

"Oh and now I'm supposed to guide you after you ignored me on the bus?" he inquires.

You feel the blood rise to your cheeks and look away for a moment, embarrassed.

"Well, I thought I should do you a favor," you admit sheepishly, not really knowing what to say.

And you just had to say that?

Your mind reproaches you.

"Favor?" he repeats in confusion, "What favor?"

"It's obvious Floris is still interested in you," you explain, "And you and she had a thing in the past so was it better for her to sit down with you or not?"

Fucking fool.

Your mind keeps reproaching you, but you don't know why you had to say that either!

And you know it was really bad as Aemond makes a gesture of exasperation on his face and shakes his head as he averts his gaze from you and stretches out both arms to the edge of the hot tub.

"You know?" he starts to say in a frustration-laden tone of voice, watching you "For being such a good student… you can be really dumb sometimes."

You frown, bewildered by his words.

"What?"

"I wanted to sit with you, Y/N," he tells you in exasperation, wanting to make you understand, "Not with Floris or anyone else, just you," he says, his tone softening as he looks at you intently.

Oh.

Yes, oh.

Now you feel stupid and of course you should feel exactly that way.

And as Aemond's words echo in your mind, you feel a mixture of emotions inside you.

On the one hand, a sense of relief and joy finds its way into your chest as you hear his sincere words and know that he wanted to be with you. But you are also overcome with a slight embarrassment at your initial lack of understanding.

And because of the same nerves and how stupid you still feel, a soft laugh escapes your lips at his confession.

"So, Floris…

You let the words float in the air, as you watch him with that insecurity in your gaze.

"Floris was just a one time thing in the past. She doesn't interest me anymore," he assures you gently and firmly, completely honest.

You both remain silent for a moment, only hearing the bubbling of the hot tub, where you mostly admire how the blue light reflects all over his body and face, looking so fucking good.

Not to mention he has no shirt on.

You can feel the electricity in the air as he watches you with his face softer compared to a few moments ago, there's also almost adoration and hope, all just the same way you're watching him.

Then you break the silence.

"I'm sorry I didn't sit with you on the bus," you say sincerely.

And he makes a nonchalant gesture with his hand.

"It's all right."

And once again, silence envelops you as you both sink into the intimate and complicit atmosphere that surrounds you.

Then once everything has been 'cleared up' somehow, you sit up and take off your coat, to begin soaking in the hot tub along with him, causing him to watch you attentively and in confusion.

"You're going in your sleeping clothes?" he asks in a doubtful tone.

"I didn't bring a swimsuit," you reply, stopping in front of him and allowing yourself to enjoy the shared quiet and intimacy along with the warmth of the water.

You watch as his gaze sweeps over your body, mostly focused on watching the way the water envelops you in just the same way he does and you don't stop, as you position yourself right in front of him, your face inches from his.

And already starting to feel a little embarrassed by his burning gaze on you, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

"You know, I've never seen you without that chain," you say, feeling your knees bump against his thighs.

He smiles slowly, showing off his perfect aligned white teeth, marking each cheek with his beautiful dimples, having a knowing glint in his eye that is reflected as he inspects your face.

"It's part of me," he replies, in a soft, deep, husky voice than usual that sends shivers down your spine, "But I think I might make an exception tonight."

And before you can fully comprehend his words, you feel Aemond's hand on your thigh from under the water, sending a surge of electricity through your body.

Surprised, he makes you sit on his lap, while his other hand rests on your waist, drawing you to him gently but with remarkable determination, surprising you and making you feel instantly nervous.

You place your hands on his shoulders, seeking stability, as you watch him with your parted lips, seeing that the space between the two of you no longer exists.

The intensity of his gaze and the softness of his face take your breath away for an instant, reminding you why you are drawn to him in the first place. And a mix of emotions overwhelm you as you realize how much you've been longing for this moment.

Then you both shorten the little distance that separates you and finally you feel the sweet contact.

With no one around, no one else's eyes on you, just the two of you alone here, you kiss.

A slow and deep kiss, where you feel Aemond's lips soft and warm against yours, making you let yourself go and move closer to him if possible, taking one of your hands to caress his cheek.

And his body responds to your caresses, pulling you closer towards him as if he can't get enough, settling better into his lap and tilting his head to the side, deepening the kiss, where his hands run down your back, causing his touch to cause electric currents through your body.

Then you both pull away a little with a wet sound from their lips and you watch him directly into his eye, unable to believe this is actually happening, where Aemond breathes through his mouth and brings one of his hands up to your cheek, watching you intently and with that lazy smile.

"What?

With a small smile on your lips, you shake your head.

"Nothing," you reply in a soft tone and that makes him smile a little more, starting to trace your cheek with his fingers and your face with his gaze.

"You don't know what you're doing to me, love," he murmurs against your lips, his voice hoarse, "The way you make me feel… it's indescribable."

His words wash over you like a comforting warm wave, spreading throughout your chest and causing a sensation to settle in your lower abdomen.

His hand on your thigh slides all over your skin, producing shivers as he pulls you even closer and your whole body trembles slightly from the intensity in his desire as he shortens the distance again and his lips seek yours with a hunger that matches what you are feeling.

And in that moment there is no doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming certainty of the connection that exists between the two of you. And just like him, you let your actions speak for you and everything you are feeling right now.

You deepen the kiss, as you lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of his kisses and your fingers gently glide over the skin of his face and run along the contours of his jaw.

"This wasn't in the contract," you murmur against his lips, agitated.

"No, it wasn't," he tells you just as agitated as you are, catching your lips with his again.

Then your other hand comes down on his bare chest, tracing his muscles and feeling the heat of his skin against yours, sending an electric shock that ignites a burning, fierce fire throughout his body.

Aemond moans against your lips and brings one of his hands to the back of your neck, tilting his head and holding you exactly where he wants you, while his other hand travels between the skin of your thighs and your lower back.

Then you decide to move on top of him and his breath hitches as he feels your movement and you too feel a tingle in your crotch.

Both he and you can feel the tension grow between the two of you and suddenly it is as if the world has vanished, existing only him and you with this moment of pure connection and desire.

And with each caress, you feel yourself falling more and more under the spell, lost in the intoxicating, indulgent pleasure you begin to experience. And with his heart beginning to pound, his caresses become more daring and urgent.

You too move with more purpose on top of him, beginning to feel a bulge grow just below your nerve center that caresses him and makes you feel so good.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks against your lips.

"Please don't," you sentence, kissing him again.

You gasp against his lips and you both begin to gasp, feeling Aemond's chest rise and fall every instant, just like yours. And with the warm, comforting water enveloping you both it only makes it feel better.

You run your hands through his hair, pulling it away from his forehead to lean into him and continue kissing him as you continue to roll your hips on top of him, when he pulls away from you and begins to leave a trail of wet kisses from your cheek and down to your neck.

All your skin bristles and you let your head fall back, giving him more accessibility.

"Fuck," he murmurs hoarsely into the side of your neck.

And you lean into him again, kissing him, wanting to feel the caress of his lips on top of yours.

But then when the need and desire begins to build to a pace where Aemond thinks he won't be able to stop afterward, he decides to stop right there, pulling away from your lips and making you stop moving.

"Wait," he says to you in a low, husky tone, breathing through his mouth.

You look at him slightly confused, just as agitated as he is.

"What's wrong?" you say with your heart pounding in your chest as you take a deep breath.

He tries to catch his breath, closing his eye and resting his forehead against yours, still holding you above him.

"We can't," he says with some frustration.

You force yourself to take a deep breath, beginning to feel confusion and uncertainty invade you, watching him intently.

"Why not?" you ask in a whisper, still leaning into him.

He lets out a long breath through his nostrils, clearly fighting against the hardness beneath his shorts and keeping you on top of him in a way where you don't touch him or he'll go completely insane.

But his silence only makes you worry and think things that really aren't.

"Or is it that you don't want to do it with me?" you ask fearfully and with embarrassment starting to creep up on you.

"What?" he quickly looks at you, "No, no, that's not what I mean, of course I want to do it with you," he answers you quickly and completely honest, "But we can't do it here."

He points his gaze around you, to again look only at you with that intensity, revealing a mixture of his desires and his inner conflicts.

Oh.

A sense of relief washes over you as you realize it's not rejection, but concern for the circumstances.

"Ah… right," you say with a mixture of embarrassment and relief, also briefly glancing around you, "Sorry, I hadn't thought of that."

Aemond looks at you tenderly, his gaze softening with a mixture of desire, vulnerability, and what you think is love reflecting in its depths, then pulling your face towards him again.

"It's okay, we'll find another time," he assures you, his tone comforting.

You smile softly as you place your hands on both of his cheeks and he kisses you deeply again, causing you to melt into his arms and let yourself be completely carried away.

You feel embarrassed by your misunderstanding, but also grateful for his concern and consideration.

And you don't know exactly how long you both lasted inside the hot tub, just kissing and nothing more, occasionally playing with the bubbles, sharing an intimate and special moment together.

"I missed you," he murmurs against your lips, leaving a soft kiss that makes you smile.

"Me too," you confess, kissing him again.

And though desire still burns between the two of you, you both know it's best to wait and save that moment for a more private and suitable place.

You still don't know what the fuck happened.

But what you do know is that you went to sleep with a silly smile on your lips and at dawn, you put the same silly smile back on your lips as you remembered everything that happened.

However, surprise and fear also flooded you after remembering exactly everything you and Aemond did.

The two of you were going to have sex.

You were going to have sex with him in a hot tub.

You didn't even care about anything, the fact that they were out in the open, the fact that you weren't physically or mentally ready or even the fact that you and he weren't even real boyfriend and girlfriend.

But you wanted to do it, God, you wanted it and badly.

He was even the one who had to stop everything when on another plane, you probably would have done it, but no. You weren't thinking, you were completely drunk with pleasure and now shame is the only thing you feel all over your body.

You can't even tell Alysanne because of the shame and because you know she won't stop laughing at you. You even plan not to leave the room to avoid running into him. But Alysanne makes you go with her to her first surfing lesson.

And ready for the day as you walk with her down the stairs to the main lobby, you think about how if things with Aemond were already weird and awkward before that moment, now the two of you won't even be able to see each other's eyes.

But to your surprise, that's not what happens.

There are several students and teachers already in the lobby when you see his characteristic silver hair, but before you can react and even think, Aemond walks towards you with a small smile as soon as he sees you and kisses you, surprising you since you definitely didn't expect that.

And of course you noticed the look Cregan gave you both, but more to you specifically, but you just told him with your look that you will talk to him about everything later.

And so you start your activities in Dragonstone, with Aemond.

Of course you first keep Alysanne company in her surfing lessons and after she is totally focused on that, you and Aemond spend time together.

Under the golden sun, painting the horizon with warm hues and golden sparkles on the ocean waves, you both enjoy a walk along the shore of the beach, enjoying the salty air and the sea breeze that envelops you.

You talk about everything and about almost nothing at the same time, him being the first one to dare to hold your hand while you enjoy your little walk, making the blood rise to your cheeks and you enjoy like every teenage girl in love these little moments.

Then you both play a game of volleyball, where you both laugh and have fun as you immerse yourselves in the game.

And clearly from running around so much in the intense sun and getting almost sweaty, you get the idea that you both should swim a bit and surprisingly Aemond doesn't refuse the idea, even though he doesn't know how to swim, but you offer to teach him.

In a gray two-piece bikini, you lead him out into the waves, explaining how to move in the water and breathe properly, causing him to begin to gain confidence and enjoy the sensation of being carried by the waves.

But of course after that would come the laughter and playfulness, both laughing and talking while enjoying the sun and the salt water.

And in that moment, the fun turned into an intimate moment as Aemond holds you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. There is a silent intention in his gaze as he touches your skin with his burning hand and you don't pull away, on the contrary, you lean towards him.

You wrap your legs around his torso and his lips press against yours in a deep kiss, losing themselves to each other in the middle of the sea.

And when you both separate, you look at each other with a mixture of shyness and affection, while Aemond places a damp lock behind your ear, feeling a pleasant sensation that he can't quite describe envelop him, especially at the moment when you again leave a soft, tender kiss on his lips.

And with beaming smiles on your faces, you both get out of the water and go upstairs to your rooms to bathe and change your clothes.

But then the two of you meet again and he accompanies you to explore the castle together, marveling at the ancient relics and all the history that surrounds the place.

He also accompanies you to the library to take some photos and to the roof terraces where you get magnificent views of the whole island.

And in the castle's aquarium, you both find yourselves surrounded by fascinating sea creatures, sharing tender moments together as you watch the fish swim around.

The sea creatures seem to dance in the water, their bright colors and movements mesmerizing you as you walk among the tanks.

And as you both move through the exhibits, Aemond more than anything couldn't resist hugging and kissing you, expressing his affection in every gesture and you of course didn't mind.

"You are beautiful," he murmurs against your lips, watching you with that bright glint in his eye as he watches the reflection of the sun and water on your face, creating an aura of serenity and beauty around him.

The blood rushes up to your cheeks and you smile shyly, feeling so silly.

"You are beautiful too, Aemond Targaryen."

You lean towards him and leave another soft kiss on his lips that he reciprocates instantly, taking you by the waist and bringing you completely closer to him, wanting to keep touching and kissing you.

But you both continue the little tour holding hands, where you also take pictures together and of everything you see around you, wanting to capture these moments.

And even though he and you haven't really talked about anything, this doesn't feel like you're both pretending. This feels real and you like the way it feels when you are with him, being completely honest and genuine with your feelings.

Then the day goes on as normal and as expected, after doing all the educational activities in a certain way, it's time for the party.

"There will be my friends, Cregan, my sister and well, Alysanne if she wants to come too," Aemond tells you as you both head towards your rooms.

"I'll convince her to go," you assure him.

"Okay, I'll see you in fifteen minutes then."

"All right," you smile at him.

He leaves down a different hallway from the one you're heading down since each of your rooms are separate and you're focused on getting ready for this party.

You don't know how, but he and his friends have arranged to take a yacht for the night. Obviously they are not going to ride around in it with the night sky, but apparently they have everything ready for everyone to drink and enjoy a while.

Fortunately you convince Alysanne and the three of you soon arrive at the yacht that is stranded in the west harbor of the island, where Aemond's friends are already there, getting everything ready.

Then the music plays, the LED lights turn on and the drinks begin to be served.

Sitting on Aemond's lap, you didn't think you'd have as good a time as you're having now, laughing and talking to everyone, occasionally hugging and kissing him.

And fortunately nothing unfortunate or unpleasant happens, there is only the company of your friends and you enjoy Aemond's presence, clinging to him at every opportunity, hugging him and singing some songs with him like everyone else, having a good time.

And fortunately in the following days there is no activity you don't do with Aemond, even now if you go for a yacht ride, where you can perfectly see some students and also Alysanne practicing surfing.

You also cheer up with the scooter ride, just like him, completely enjoying the moment and the experience.

And you honestly don't want any of it to end.

You want everything to continue to be perfect.

general taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys

[derekmorgansgirl]

Derek Morgan x Chubby BAU!Reader

I absolutely hate that there is not enough out there about my literal comfort and joy, Derek Morgan, so I'm here to write what I wish I could read about him.

This is a oneshot following Y/n and Derek's angsty relationship over time. He has always flirted with her, but she was insecure and assumed he was joking around, so she always brushed him off. One day, she had enough and snapped at him, resulting in a very heated, very public argument.

Y/n's stomach dropped to her butt when she stepped through the elevator doors to the wide open bullpen of the BAU. It was her first day working as their new media liaison after their old one had switched positions. She honestly had little clue what she was supposed to be doing that day except for meeting her new boss, Aaron Hotchner.

She picked her jaw up off the floor and blinked her wide-eyed look away as she began to scan the room for Hotchner's office. Although, apparently, her confused figure drew some attention because two people approached her, startling her out of her concentration.

Upon first impression, she noticed the difference between the two people. One brown skinned man, tall, muscular, intimidating. And the other, a much shorter white woman, blonde, colorful, and friendly. The man, Y/n could see as an agent of the FBI. The woman, however, looked like an elementary teacher.

"Hey, there," the man said, "what's a pretty little lady like you doin' round here?" he said with a flirtatious grin.

Before I could even think of a reply, the woman playfully rolled her eyes before turning to me and speaking, "Don't mind him. He's well aware of his good looks and likes to use them for nefarious intentions," she glared at him. "I'm Penelope Garcia, the most beautiful, most genius technical analysist. And he's-"

"Really forward," Y/n says with an awkward laugh.

"Oh, it's Derek Morgan, actually. But you," he punctuates with a glance up and down her body, "can call me Chocolate Thunder."

"Yeah, that most definitely will not be happening, Derek Morgan."

Derek feigns a disappointed sigh before asking, "No, really, though. What are you doin' here? Can we help you with anything?"

They both look at her expectantly, eyebrows raised and fully attentive. "Oh, um, I'm supposed to be finding Aaron Hotchner's office," Y/n replies, but it sounds more like a question. "We had a meeting for," her eyes widen with a glance at her watch "7 minutes ago! Oh, God!"

"Oh, dear! Come with me, sweetheart, I'll take you there! And don't you even worry I will take full accountability of the delay and explain what happened," gushed Penelope while dragging you through the bullpen, Y/n's hand in hers.

Still shocked from the previous interaction, Y/n makes no effort to reply to her. It doesnt go unnoticed, however, because Penelope turns around to look at her for a second before continuing the walk.

"I'm, once again, sorry for Morgan. He goes a little overboard with his flirtations sometimes. I would certainly know," she giggles out. "You just have to learn not to take him seriously, everything he says is out of kindness. He really is a good man, you know-"

"Garcia?" a deep voice cuts her off.

"Hotch! Sir, I am so, so sorry. She looked so lost and confused, so Morgan and I were greeting her, and then she told us she was late for a meeting with you, so I rushed her over, and I'm so terribly sorry, this is on me! But she's here now, this is- Oh, I didn't catch your name," Penelope manages to spit out in one breath while the tall man stands there, hands in his pockets, a slightly amused look on his face.

"It's okay, Garcia. This is Y/n Y/l/n, our new media liaison. Now please excuse us, as you said, we have a meeting," he says calmly.

"Ok!" And with that, she's already turning around and scurrying away.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Aaron Hotcher, unit chief of the BAU. Come on in."

/// One month later ///

After that first meeting, especially what Garcia had said about him, Y/n had just assumed that Derek was joking around with her. She had seen him cozying up to plenty of other women. Prettier women.

But that didn't stop him from calling you such ridiculous, clearly mocking nicknames.

"Hey, baby doll. Maybe after you finish up those files, I can give you a ride home," Derek tells her with a wink.

"Um, no. I have a lot to finish and to be honest, I dont- I dont really think thats a good idea," Y/n says before clearing her throat.

"Aww, why not? You not that into me, pumpkin?" Derek leaned against her desk. And that's when it hit her. Of course. He was only doing this to make fun of her. She'd known that from the start. But she didn't know why until he had said it. It was because of her appearance, she told herself, short and round. Like a pumpkin.

The logical side of her knew it was likely not true, but her insecurities got the best of her. She had always been self conscious about her size, and it was easier to tell herself that he was just like everybody else. I mean, a handsome, fit man like him? No wonder he was messing with her.

"No, not really," Y/n said with a fake smile. "You can go now, Morgan."

///

Y/n had been growing closer to the team, especially Reid. They had a lot of similar interests. They both liked reading, nerdy TV shows, and most importantly they got along really well.

The other team members had taken notice of this, of course. But Derek, most especially. Y/n couldn't figure out why, but it seemed that he couldn't pry his eyes away whenever he saw Y/n and Spencer together.

Y/n and Spencer had been making their coffee side by side while chuckling and conversing about last night's episode of Doctor Who. It was something that Spencer admitted he got mocked for by multiple people, but she didn't understand why. So it became their thing. A couple nights a week, Y/n would go to Spencer's apartment and watch a few episodes with him.

Derek approached the two and grabbed a packet of sugar to pour into his own steaming mug. "What're you two nerds talking about, huh?" He said with a false smirk.

"Oh, um, we were just talking about last night," Spencer stuttered out as Derek had startled him when he snuck up behind him.

"Oh," Derek quirked an eyebrow, "last night, huh? You making a play on sweet pumpkin here?"

Spencer shook his head, embarrassed, "No! We were watching Doctor Who together."

"Huh," Derek rubbed his tongue along the inside of his cheek, "well, maybe I can take you home then tonight, Y/n, it only seems fair," he says as his smirk reappears.

"Spence and I actually had plans tonight, and he's better company than you, but thank you," Y/n replies rather harshly, causing both Derek and Spencer's faces to break into a startled reaction.

"Oh, you call watching your geeky little show in your pajamas while stuffing your face with snacks plans?" He jokingly said, but you took it as a joke that you were the butt of.

"Really? I mean, I already suspected that was why you're always mocking me, but I didn't expect you to outright and say it," Y/n crossed her arms as an attempt to shield her body.

"Whoa, what?" Derek said, suddenly conscious of everyone's eyes watching the scene. "What are you talking abou-"

"Seriously?! Are you gonna pretend to be stupid, too. You've been messing with me since the day we met, and don't act like you weren't aware of it," she slans her mug down onto the counter, causing Spencer to flinch as he awkwardly shuffles away from the two of you.

"Okay, what in the actual hell are you talking about? I have not been messing with you!" He raises his hand to smooth it across his hair.

"Oh, yes you have! Flirting with me, feigning an interest in me when you know that someone like me will never have for real!"

"Thats not why I- What do you mean someone like you?"

"Someone whos always sitting around in their pajamas stuffing their face with snacks, as you might recall saying. Short and fat, like a pumpkin, right?" Y/n said, suddenly feeling more self-conscious and insecure than she had anytime that stupid nickname slipped from his beautiful lips.

"Oh, my God. No, thats not at all what I meant by that. I- I thought you would have realized by now that-" Derek said, his eyes swelling with tears that she knew he would never let fall in front of the team.

"That what?" Y/n had asked flatly, though her face was still wet from tears.

"Baby doll, I really like you. I have from the start. Thats why I flirted with you! Not to mock you or make you feel bad about yourself. I would never do that. Especially not to someone like you. You're so incredible and I have never met a woman like you. Please let me make this up to you."

"No," she replied with a sob, causing him to momentarily panic. "You didnt do anything wrong. I'm just an idiot," they both laughed as she said that.

"Then, tell me. Do you maybe feel the same? Even after you thought I was ridiculing you for months?"

"Yeah," she whispered before grabbing his tie and pulling him down to crash her lips into his.

His hand immediately found her waist and hers on his face. They laughed while their lips pressed together in an explosive way she could have never imagined. His hand traveled around to her lower back, causing her to let out a gasp, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. Y/n let him know that she appreciated it by letting out a quiet moan, when suddenly they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

"Okay, cute moment, guys," JJ said with a mocking pout, "There are kids being kidnapped and murdered but sure, sure, take your sweet time making out in the kitchen. Get your asses over here!"

__________________________________

The pumpkin thing was definitely inspired off of a similar situation in the movie Dumplin' but shhh

PLEASE like and comment and reblog if you enjoyed it takes such little time and shows so much support

In the same respect I am open to constructive criticism always so dont he afraid to comment your ideas

LOVE DEREKKK

[veritas-scribblings]

clock - @bartylusmicrofic - words: 619

The way Regulus understands it: the Hufflepuff boy had just looked at Evan wrong and Evan had punched him, and Barty had seen an altercation happening and thought it looked like great fun.

The way Barty understands it: Barty was being loyal, because Evan is their family and soulmate, and people aren’t allowed to treat Evan that way.

Either way it occurred, Barty has ended up in detention yet again, for the fourth time that week. But, Regulus supposes, at least Barty managed to land a detention for a different reason than the typical, ‘why haven’t you completed the allocated reading?’ or ‘where is the assignment that’s due?’ or the more frequent, ‘why aren’t you brewing the potion / the answering the questions / practising the spell?’

Barty is so regular a participant in after-class detentions that several of their professors have gotten tired of his presence and instead allocated him to sessions in Study Hall.

This is one of those times.

Regulus drops himself into the seat next to Barty, who has filled his parchment with doodlings of two figures in what Regulus assumes is meant to be suggestive positions. Grinning, Barty writes under two stick figures doing Merlin-only-knows-what: this one is you. 

Regulus frowns, confused, because he’s pretty sure he’s looking at two stick figures. ‘They’re never going to let you out if you don’t complete your assignments,’ he whispers. ‘We have chapter 9 to read for Transfiguration before tomorrow, and the essay on non-verbal spells was due yesterday…’

‘I don’t need to write a stupid essay, I know all that shit already.’ Barty scoffs and rolls his eyes. ‘The intermediate transfiguration textbook is so dull, anyway. It’s got shit all information about non-verbal magic,’ he says, squinting down at his new set of doodled stick figures. ‘Rabelais’s Book of Magickal Law is so much more comprehensive. If you wanna know about non-verbal magic, I recommend you read that.’ He points at a stick figure that appears to be doing a handstand and says with a smile that’s a little bit devious, ‘this one’s you.’

‘Whether you know it is not the point, you still need to complete the coursework.’

‘That,’ Barty says, dramatically adding a flourish to the stick figure that’s meant to be Regulus, ‘is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. And I’ve heard a lot of stupid things. In fact, most people just live their lives walking around saying stupid things.’ He pauses. Frowns. ‘I need to add your floppy hair.’

‘Can we help you, Black?’ When McGonagall stops by their desk, Regulus quickly covers Barty’s parchment, because the last thing he needs is for Barty to end up in even more detentions. She frowns, suspicious, but doesn’t address the matter. Most likely, Regulus assumes, because she doesn’t want to have to put up with yet another afternoon of babysitting Barty Crouch Jnr. 

McGonagall sighs. ’Please sit elsewhere. Your friend is not here to socialise.’

Regulus picks up his books and tucks them under his arm. He knows Barty is going to be here for a while, because Barty is stubborn and enjoys antagonising teachers who have yet to learn one very important fact: Barty Crouch Jnr is perpetually bored and needs a challenge, and if that challenge cannot come in the form of an academic challenge, he will happily accept a battle of the wills.

Regulus leans down and whispers by Barty’s ear, because even if Barty will not listen to a teacher, he'll always listen to Regulus, ‘Do your work. I’m bored, and I wanna get out of here.’

[universitypenguin]

How would Lloyd and princess spend the holidays together ? Are they the types to go look at the pretty lights the city has downtown? Would Lloyd help her with decorations, etc. As always I absolutely adore these two and the way you write them 🥰🥰 thank you again for writing this series ❤️❤️

They decorate the house together because Princess insists on it. She doesn’t buy the line that he’s “never really been into Christmas.” It’s clear that he just never had anyone to celebrate it with and this year, things are different. Princess makes it her mission to show Lloyd how Christmas should be.

He doesn’t have any Christmas decor, but that’s fine, because it means a trip to the store. She gets a tree, warm toned multicolored lights, stockings for his fireplace, and a welcome mat that says “Merry Christmas.” Lloyd swaps it for the one that says “Merry Christmas, Ya Filthy Animal.” She gets five wreaths, one for the front door and others for his front windows. He’s unfamiliar with the idea of window wreaths but when you hang them up, he has to admire how it looks. His house has never looked so beautiful.

Inspiration photo for the wreaths:

He particularly enjoys the smell of the decorative bowls of pinecones and tree bark you set out. The bough of holly wrapped around his bannister does look very nice. He even makes a note of the name of the special candles you ordered. They make the whole house smell like vanilla pound cake, and he’s totally stocking up on those.

These are all pre-holiday things, though. For the actual holiday, Lloyd would want to take a vacation.

Princess assumes this means somewhere sunny and warm with lots of palm trees, so she’s totally down. But no… he wants to go skiing in Zermatt.

Where Lloyd wants to go:

Princess’ reaction:

By the time she realizes the disconnect, she’s already agreed to go.

While Lloyd knows Princess isn’t the most athletic person in the world, he wasn’t expecting her to be this bad on skis. Efforts to teach her skiing are not successful. What the heck does “you turn with your toes,” mean? Finally, she kicks him out of the teacher role and signs up for a ski lesson package with an instructor.

Lloyd hits the black slopes and enjoys the next few days of solo skiing. At the end of the week he’s shocked to find that Princess swapped her ski rental for a snowboard. And she’s good at it. She’s already had enough practice to manage the smaller green slopes. On one of their final days on the mountain, he takes her down the smaller hills, and realizes she’s far more suited to snowboarding than she ever was to skiing.

He willingly admits that he should never try to teach anyone to ski again.

The problem is, Lloyd’s been skiing since he was eight years old. Growing up in Idaho it was a school sponsored program. He was on the football team, the wrestling team and participated in the ski club, though he never competed in winter sports competitions. His natural athleticism prevents him from understanding the struggles of someone like Princess. But in the end, it worked out. He realizes that she would have liked a warmer vacation due to all the ski lesson venting sessions that occurred when she fell down. And she fell down a lot during the first few days, so he really got an earful.

He proposes a Valentine’s Day trip to Fiji.

Princess spends the last few days in town, taking Lloyd’s credit card for a spin. To get revenge for the awful ski lessons he gave her, she hits the Max Mara store, Kate Spade, Prada, and a high end jewelry store run by a local artisan. Lloyd is amused by the amount Princess considers “punishment.”

It’s a quarter of what he dropped on the heli-skiing day trip he’s taking tomorrow.

They walk arm in arm through the village, strung with multicolored lights, and then Lloyd surprises her with a gondola ride up to the Matterhorn Glacier. After his heli-skiing trip, he takes her ice skating, which is another thing she’s never done. While he’s teaching her to balance and use her toe pick, Princess realizes he’s trying to give her all the experiences her family couldn’t afford when she was a kid. And this is the first real vacation she’s ever been on. It’s also the first time she’s used her passport for recreational purposes.

On Christmas Eve, he takes her to a Michelin star restaurant. She doesn’t have to cook or do the dishes. There’s no crying babies. She doesn’t have any siblings who want her to find their glove and hat and by the way: did she remember where they put the sled last year? This year she relaxes and spends Christmas Day in bed with Lloyd. He’s in a romantic mood. The kind that involves soaking in the in-room hot tub and eating chocolate covered strawberries with champagne. He makes love to her in the morning, followed by a long nap. He does it again at noon, twice before dinner, and half the night. For their last day in Switzerland he has another surprise in store. They take the Glacier Express around Mt. Matterhorn.

The Glacier Express:

He finds he doesn’t mind the slow speed of travel. Taking seven hours to travel 180 miles isn’t usually his idea of a good time. But in this instance, watching you enjoy yourself for seven hours straight makes it a very good time. Combined with the excellent food and the way you cuddle against him during the trip, he’s already thinking about making this a yearly thing. Unless you want to make Fiji your Christmas tradition instead, which he would understand.

All in all, this year is by far the best Christmas he’s ever had.

[observeowl]

Right By Your Side | Chapter 5 - First Day In School

Summary: In the world where wearing glasses makes you a different person. You were forced to swallow a pill that turned you into seven years old. Now, you're living with your crush in a small form, what would you do? Who were the ones who brought this to you? And, can you change back?

Chapter summary: Meeting new friends in school, getting a scare that Bill is dead and potentially one who is part of the Organisation you were trying to track. Just your normal day, right?

Series Masterlist

Days passed quickly and it was soon my first day of school, again. Bill chose a school slightly further away so I could drop by his house on the way back whenever I feel like it.

"Urghh...." I groaned and turned off the alarm before going back to sleep again. Why do I have to go to school when I'm 30 years old...

I drifted off to sleep with ease before jolting up when the cold hit my body. Nat was standing by my bed with the duvet in her hands and I instantly went to find my glasses. "Hurry your ass up. If you eat your breakfast in the car, you can still make it on time."

"Okay..." I did everything quickly and went to find Nat who was already waiting for me with the sandwich. I sling my bag on my shoulder and went to take a bite of the sandwich before rushing to get my shoes on.

"If you woke up on time, you wouldn't be rushing." Nat said when she saw me struggling to tie my shoelace while looking like a mess.

---

I have finished my sandwich and we still have some distance to go. I rested my head against the window since I could hardly see out of the window.

"Where did you get that bracelet from?" Nat said, referring to the one on my left wrist. It was originally a necklace from Nat for my 27th birthday, but it's too big for me now so I twist it once to fit my wrist.

"Oh this? My mum gave this to me on one of my birthdays." I lied.

"Do you have the same one too?" I asked, wanting to know how she would answer. Nat didn't answer the question. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's not a big deal. I have a matching pair with Y/N." She showed me the necklace that she's still wearing.

"It looks beautiful on you." I complimented her. Ever since we helped each other put it on, I hardly ever get to comment on it since she hides it very well with her clothes. I could see the chain sometimes but never the art so I never got to say anything.

"Thanks. Have a nice first day in school." Nat said when we reached the gate.

"Thank you." I closed the door and waved through the window.

Nat winds down the window and I listen to what she has to say. "I'll pick you up after school. Sorry I didn't pick you up the other day."

"No worries. I know you're a busy person." Especially looking for the person who's right by your side.

---

The first class of the day was English. The teacher was our homeroom teacher and apparently there are two other students who were joining today. We didn't get to know the rest of the class since it wasn't the first day of school. I introduced myself as Allison Bright while the other students introduced themselves as Anita Hailey and Edogawa Conan.

Hailey has chestnut hair that reaches her chin and she looks to be a bit serious, closed off. Conan, on the other hand, seemed more like a child with a smile on his face. I assumed the both of them knew each other before this since they were whispering something before entering the classroom.

"Alright, Edogawa, you can sit next to Amy. Bright and Anita can sit at the empty table at the corner." Ms Smith instructed.

The class started but I was doodling on my notebook, jotting and mapping out what I know about the current case. Judging from what they call each other, their code names are based on alcohol. Since Gin was instructing Vodka, he is likely to be in a higher position. The question is, how many people are there?

I wrote 'Organisation' at the top of the notebook and circled it. How am I going to bring it down?

"Ms Bright, do you mind answering this question?" Ms Smith pointed to the board. I looked at the board before answering her.

After I sat down, Anita opened her mouth and spoke, catching my attention. "Y/N Y/L/N, part of the Avengers, powers unknown..." She stated as she continued to look towards the board. "Unknown relationship with parents. Blood type B+. Went to find Bill when you shrunk, who's staying at 606 Green Lake St. New York, NY 10040."

How does she know so much about me? Was she sent here to kill me? How does she know where Bill stays?

I looked at her and she just smirked at me. Who is she?

I rushed out of the classroom, ignoring the calls from Ms Smith and immediately dialed for Bill. "Come on... pick up your phone... of all the times you chose to not answer your phone, you chose now to do it." I mumbled as I ran to his house. I should really bring some cash the next time I head out.

I kept calling Bill all the way until I reached his house. He didn't answer the doorbell and I'm too anxious to think of a solution. I climbed over the gate and went round to the backyard where he doesn't bother to lock.

I searched and called for him all over his house but received no answer. Was he really killed? I went into the basement and saw him in front of his computer with red all over him. Fuck.

"Bill!" I shook him but received no answer. Suddenly the can on the table dropped, startling me. I took a quick looked at it and realised it was tomato juice.

"Wake the hell up." I slapped the back of his head. "How many times do I have to tell you not to drink tomato juice when you work at night. You always spill them everywhere."

Bill groaned as he rubbed the back of his head. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

"Who the hell is Anita Hailey and Edogawa Conan, why does she know where you stay and so much about me?"

"Ohhh." He slapped his forehead. "I forgot to tell you, Anita stays with me and Edogawa stays with his crush too." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes!" I raised my voice. "This can be dangerous." I reminded him who we're up against.

"Don't worry, I know Edogawa. His real name is Jimmy Kudo. He stays next door." I looked over to the huge mansion next door. His parents are famous author and celebrity. "And... I found Anita lying on the floor in front of my gate the other day."

"You were the one who named her?" Bill looked at me shocked. "Yeah, that is a pretty lame name."

I sighed at the situation we're in, suddenly there're so many factors coming in that aren't accounted for. How can I trust them?

"Aren't you going back to class?"

I didn't want to but since Nat is coming to pick me up after school, I have to be there by the end of the day. "You're driving me back."

He took the keys for his yellow beetle.

"It's time you change your lousy old car, it breaks down all the time." Bill has it for as long as I know him. I'm pretty sure he got it second hand since no retailer was selling it anymore.

"My uncle gave it to me."

"Remember to update me next time. You gave me a fright." I got out of his car and tried sneaking back in class during lunch break. I wasn't sure if Ms Smith was going to notify Nat about it.

"Where have you been Ms Bright?" I got caught entering the classroom through the back door.

"I went to the washroom."

"For two hours??"

"I had a really bad stomach ache." I acted as if I was still slightly sick, holding onto my stomach. Ms Smith let it go this time and continued supervising the lunch break. The bell sounded and the next subject teacher came to take over.

---

After school, I looked at Anita who was nonchalantly packing her bag as if it was a normal day. "Who the hell are you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She challenged me. I pulled the backpack off her and slammed it on her chair. Edogawa came over after seeing I was getting rough with her.

"Hey hey hey, we are your allies. We are in the same predicament as you... Just tell her, it would be better for all of us." Edogawa encouraged.

"My real name is Shiho Miyano, code name Sherry." I looked at her with widened eyes.

"You're one of them!" I raised my voice feeling anxious that one of them managed to get so close this quickly. Edogawa quickly shushed me and looked around to make sure no one heard anything.

The people students here are too innocent, they were too busy interacting with their friends to listen in on us.

"I am the creator of the drug or my father was. After realizing that they killed my sister, I stopped all production as a protest and they cuffed me to a pole. I swallowed the APTX4869 to kill myself but I ended up becoming small like you."

"You... you..." I have too many questions in my mind. "Then can you turn us back?" I asked the most critical question.

"Don't you think I would have done so if I could?" She said, making me sigh as all hopes shattered. "I can't remember the formula."

"And you?" I turned to the boy.

"I'm just a normal victim who used to be a high school detective. You can call me Conan." He crossed his hands behind his head. He fits the description of a 1st grader/primary school student more than Anita.

"You can call me Hailey."

I looked at the skeptically before pulling out my phone to exchange contacts. "You can call me Allison."

"The Black Organisation is what they're called. They always wear black." Hailey said as I left the classroom.

---

I spotted Nat's car at the corner. "You took a while to come out. I was about to barge in." Nat said as I buckled my seatbelts. I wouldn't be surprised if she does.

"I was just talking to my new friends..." I considered them more as classmates for now. It would definitely help tremendously if we have the scientist on our side. Once we get our hands on the formula, I should be able to get back to normal size. The good thing is they are unable to make any more APTX4869 since their lab was destroyed.

"Are you alright?" Nat asked as I was deep in thought. What should be our next course of movement? Should we lure them out or wait until we get more evidence and resources? Three of us, four if we include Bill, are not able to do anything...

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Nat nudged my shoulders, bringing me back to reality.

"Just- about... about dinner!" I jumped in my seat, acting as if it was the simplest thing to make me happy. I cringed internally as I did that. Nat could only chuckle and shake her head at my actions and childishness.

---

Back in the compound, I slumped in bed after a tiring day.

The room darken all of a sudden and thunder cracking could be heard throughout the sky. Ominous feelings filled the compound as everyone looked out at how quickly the sky changed. Soon, rain started to hit the windows and everyone went back to their business.

"She's useless." Strucker spat at me. The scientist that he got injected me with powers but there was no result. No matter how much stress testing they did, they weren't able to get a reaction from me.

They took my blood and tested it. There were traces of DNA alteration, indicating the serum in me was doing its job but it just wasn't showing.

They needed to keep me alive so they didn't increase the dosage, but they kept torturing me, breaking me and at this point I just wished I could evoke my powers to stop all this.

"Send her to cell 4." Strucker waved for his agents.

"No... I don't want to... No! Please!" I tried to break free from their grip but with two men holding each of my arms, it was hardly a challenge for them to force me there.

Another bulky man was waiting with an empty chair and his tools spread out on the table. They cuffed me to the chair before walking out.

He started off light with a small parry knife, licking it before slitting my body, he would move onto bigger tools gradually and my body littered with cuts. On days when he was mad, he would dive in straight with a gun, making sure he didn't hit any vital spots. Shots and screams would be heard throughout the cell, if I could just move a little and direct the shot towards my head, I would have done so.

Second POV The rain was still coming down heavily as Natasha heard your blood curdling scream coming from your room and rushed to check on your room. You were whimpering in your bed and covers thrown on the floor, clearing in distress.

"Allison!" She said, trying to wake you up. She tried a couple more times but it wasn't working. Through your hectic movement in your nightmare, your shirt lifted up slightly and Nat was able to see your cuts and bruises.

"WAKE UP!" She screamed this time. It worked. You jolted up in bed panting heavily. You placed your head in your hands trying to calm down until you remembered what situation you're in.

"Are you okay?" She used her cold hands to wipe off the sweat on your forehead.

Now, the life you're living in, is built on lies upon lies. One day it's going to come crashing down on you.

Series Masterlist

[lynksshadows30]

Hey all my College students out there tell me about a creepy encounter you or someone you know had on your campus that you still question to this day? I'll go first.

"The Scream"

One day I was in the middle of one of my classes and the teacher told us we can break for lunch, so me and my friend group were in class talking and eating our lunches and announcements start on the intercoms. We listened in and there was an announcement that a random person in an adult man in a creepy pumpkin costume with a box of candy and a knife was walking on campus. And they mentioned that this person was not a student of the college and was chasing everyone they saw that walked over to him to get candy and told us if we see him we must run immediately and call the campus security. Me and my friend weren't sure what that was all about but we just ignored it and continued on eating our lunches carrying on with our conversation. But little did I know that it wouldn't end there and it would get creeper.

At the end of my day it was already dark out at the campus and with only the little light of the lamps posted and the half moon above my head I started walking to the parking lot. Then I called my sister on my phone to come and pick me up from class like she usually does, I didn't have a driver's license yet so I had to rely on my mom and my sister to pick me up and drop me off. My sister said she was going to be a little while because she still had to pick up her boyfriend from work, I told her ok and I'll wait for her in the regular spot in the parking where she can see me. So I walk to my usual spot and wait for her 5 min pass as I was looking through my phone and I hear something I assume it was just me hearing things and ignore it but it happens again but it was different. This time it was louder and it sounded like someone screaming HELP! then I started to get paranoid so I stared at the detection of where the scream came from and didn't look away and also pulled out my pocket knife.

As I was still waiting I remembered the announcement about the man in the pumpkin costume and started to assume the worst, eventually 5 min later my sister arrived in her van and I got in and told her what happened and she said not to worry about it. It has been almost a year since that happened and I still wonder to this day if that screams for help was from a victim, if they were able to get away, and if that man was still out there?

[adelaide-lemonade]

start of summer!!

Hi!! Today is the second day of summer break, and a LOT has happened. First of all, I apologize for my last post. I was depressed. Anyway, the last 2 days of school were half days. I was with some of my friends and we were about to be out of school for the summer. We were helping my teacher with cleaning up the classroom and stuff and we were just talking as we did it. Since we were helping with different tasks, we were moving around the classroom. Chocolate was sitting in the corner on his phone with the camera facing us. As I moved, my friends and I noticed that the camera was continuing to follow me. We knew that he was probably recording me because we had seen him recording me on Field Day, which was that previous Monday.

My friends had been trying to convince me to block him since he started sending me pictures of myself a while ago, but I felt bad. I assumed that he didn't realize what he was doing was creepy and I didn't want to be mean.

When we saw him recording me for the second time, we knew it was time to do something. We had 5 minutes left until summer break, but we went to our grade's assistant principle's office. Our assistant principle is the BEST. She's a young black lady, she has really cool style, and she is soooooo nice. We knew we could trust her.

We got to her office and I told her everything that Chocolate had done. She told me that he had no right to record me and make me feel uncomfortable. She called my homeroom teacher's phone and asked him to send Chocolate in in 5 minutes. She hugged me and I thanked all of my friends for helping me. Then I blocked Chocolate.

That same day, but about 10 minutes later, Mango was about to walk home when she passed Whale and one of his friends in the hallway. She started talking to him about me without naming any names. She dropped a couple hints about who I could be, and then she told him that I was super nice, not like anybody else, and that I'm definitely worth it. (Now, I had NO idea that she was going to talk to him at all.) Whale told her that he would think about it. (??)

Last night, I unblocked Chocolate. I'm not responding to ANY texts he send me, but I want to see if he does say anything. He texted me at one a.m. "Sorry," was the first text. One minute later he said, "I'm sorry." I haven't responded, obviously. What really scares me about him is that, if he's already recording a girl without her permission and sending her photos of herself when he's a TEENAGER, what's he gonna be like as a full grown adult?!? He's really creepy.

I'm leaving for my beach house today and I think it will help me de-stress. I'm trying to relax and stop thinking about Chocolate, Whale, and any other drama because it's SUMMER!!! I love summer so so much. Hopefully there will be new cute boys and my beach and it'll take my mind off Whale. I'm trying to be more open and not stuck on someone who doesn't even know that I like him.

I might not make any posts while I'm at the beach, so sorry if I ghost y'all again!!

Please like, share, or follow to keep me going! Remember to strive for progress and not perfection. Love you!! byeeeeeeee

[keravnous]

wanna enjoy the luxury of not knowing each other for real?; rodrick heffley x reader (smut, minors dni)

read pt. I here | read pt. III here | read pt. IV here

word count: 3,7k

It's literally just a quick and filthy blowjob between classes and Rodrick teasing you a little bit, I-

warnings: all characters are 18+, she/her pronouns, semi-public sex, oral (male receiving), teasing/toying with the reader (fingering, groping), undernegotiated kinks: spanking, spit kink, cum play, face fucking, humiliation (rod's trying to cope with the shift in your dynamic), edging (reader)

thank you v for letting me blame this on you sksksks

It's been two weeks. Two weeks of longing gazes and your panties dampening when he was too close, looking at you from across the class room or hallway.

It was like hell on earth and you found yourself laying awake at night (not only due to the indian summer that struck Plainview late in autumn), flicking your fingers across your clit, trying to mimick the way Rodrick did it all those nights ago. It's not the same.

You definitely wanted to see him again, wanted his hands and tongue all over you again and it made you fucking restless. You were hardly able to focus on your homework the past weeks, let alone the matter of the classes you shared with him. You didn't know how to address it, nor how to approach him. What made the situation even worse was that the two of you didn't even return to your usual bickering and bitching. He had stopped completely.

No names, no snarky or rude remarks just - nothing.

Thus, you settled on watching him from afar and letting off steam by fucking yourself late at night.

And today wasn't any different. You found yourself staring, longing and it was eating you alive, subtly wriggling on your chair and pressing your thighs together.

"-so I already assigned each one of you a partner!", your head snaps up, looking at your teacher in disbelief, someone behind you groans loudly in annoyance, "I tried to create fair pairs, so you will all have a chance to learn something!"

You stare, blinking. No one in class looks exactly happy with her decision and you don't, either. Even though your best friend isn't in your course (usually the two of you will always work together, no matter how small the task) you'd still prefer to pick your partner for the upcoming literature project on your own.

Your gaze flickers to Rodrick. He doesn't look amused either and for a second your eyes meet. You flush and hastily look away, back onto your table. It's something in his eyes, most of the time when you exchange gazes, that looks a lot like an unspoken promise. But you don't want to get your hopes up so you decide to ignore it, convincing yourself that it's nothing.

Your teacher proceeds to read out the list of study partners and you snap back from your daydreams as you hear her read out yours.

"Miss Y/LN?", you look up, reciprocating her smile like you're on autopilot. She always liked you, being the focussed and motivated student and constantly writing good grades. "I paired you up with Mister Heffley", your heart drops and you're suddendly very hot, "I think the both of you will really profit from working together."

Fuck.

_

You take your time packing your things after your teacher has ended the lesson early. You're supposed to discuss your project with your partner in the remaining time but you hope that he just went home, not caring more about this class than he usually does.

You leave the room, assuming you're safe as you can't see him in the classroom anymore but you really should've known better.

"Hey", you hear his voice next to you and nearly jump. He's leaning against a row of lockers, right next to the classroom's door. The hallway's all empty, your teacher and the other students already gone.

"Shit, Heffley!", you exhale and he chuckles.

You look at each other, silently and you don't know what to say. Luckily, he decides it's his turn.

"So", he stretches the o and your smirk involuntarily, "Partners, huh?"

"Partners", you nod, gazes still holding each other. He clears his throat, seemingly unsure what to say next.

"I-", you start without actually knowing what to say. I want you to fuck me again? I think of you all the time? I really liked it, thank you?

Instead of saying anything you cough, in a very bad attempt to cover up your insecurity. It doesn't go unnoticed and he turns his head to the side in an equally bad attempt to hide the grin that blooms on his face.

You barely dare to meet his eyes again but when you do, Rodrick's fucking smiling. And it's kind, too, only a little mischievous.

He takes a step forward, closing in on you.

"Yeah, me too", he rasps and it dawns on you that he may became quite good on reading you in all these years of teasing, fighting and picking on you.

It sends waves of warmth down your spine and you inhale deeply. You need him. "Are you free after school?"

He tsks at that, lips curling into a smile that looks a lot like Y'heard what she just said?, playfully rolling his eyes a little.

"I'm free now, sugar."

You freeze. "Now?", you blurt out.

"Yeah, now", he huffs, one hand coming to a halt on your waist and it ignites something in you, "If you want to."

Fuck yes, you do. And yet you hiss - "Are you insane, we're at school!"

"I know a place", he's so close and you can smell both, the menthol from his gums and the smoke of cigarettes on his breath.

"You know a place?"

"I do. Wanna come with me?", the hand lets go of your waist and Rodrick offers you to take it instead.

You look at it for a second. You really shouldn't, it's a bad idea. A really bad idea, it's too risky. What if you'll get caught? Even worse, what if you'll get caught by a fucking teacher? The muscles in your abdomen clench at that.

This is insane. You're insane. He's insane.

You take his hand.

_

The air in the empty restroom is cool and your footsteps echo from the white tiles. He's right behind you and reaching over your shoulder, pushing a stall's door open before throwing a charming smile at you and guiding you in with his body. As expected, it's a small and untidy place and you make a mental note to touch as little as necessary. Rodrick's slamming the door shut behind him, turning the lock.

"There we are, princess", his bag falls to the floor with a loud thud. Your stomach fucking flutters and you want to rip it out with your bare hands, picking the butterflies and their larvae out of it. The tingles in your stomach reach your abdomen and your crotch, wetness already pooling in your panties. Your bag hits the floor as well. You simultaneously love and hate the effect he has on you.

He leans back against the door, lips pulling up in a cocky smile. "C'mere", and you do, like you're a fucking lapdog or something, crushing into his body, pressing against him. His hardening dick pokes into your hip and you hum against his lips as he pulls you into a kiss. It's as heated and quick, sloppy even, and just as you expected - as you desired. His teeth pull at your lower lip and you need more, hands darting out and roaming over his chest. You didn't really touch him the last time, with his attention mostly on your pleasure and it suddendly reminds you of something.

Your mind conjures up the image of him kneeling between your legs and stroking himself, hoisting you up to finally fuck you. You remember the sudden urge you had felt to taste him.

"'Been meaning to call you", he mumbles against your lips and the hair on your arms rises at that, "Noticed I didn't even have your number and wasn't sure if you wanted me to ask."

Rodrick's tongue pushes back into your mouth, making an answer obsolete. Your tongue is darting out and crashes into his. He groans and you come to realization that you love that noise. That you want to hear more of it.

His hand comes to a rest on your ass, gripping it, your skirt hoisting up a little in the process of it as he kneads the warm flesh. It makes you hungry for more, hungry for him and your hand wanders across his chest, down to his crotch. He's hard and so so warm even through the thick denim of his jeans and you close your hand around it, palming him through his trousers. He leans forward a little, deepening the kiss and your stomach flutters.

You don't know what time it is and how much you'll have left until the bell rings, but desire burns deep in your stomach and it spurrs you on to make a move now.

You break the kiss, panting and cheeks flushed, eyes wandering over his face. His eyes are dark, blown with lust and his lips are slightly swollen already.

"What is it, pretty girl?", he hums, fingers ghosting over your cheek.

"Wanna suck you off", you whisper and his gaze turns blank at that. It's not the reaction you expected and thus, thinking you may have said something wrong, start rambling. That is, until he throws his head back, the door rattling and barks out a laugh that is thick with disbelief. You shut your mouth. "Fuck", he breathes out, chest rising and falling heavily once or twice, shaking his head and then nodding slowly, "Yeah, fuck."

Rodrick's gaze drops down, focuses on you under heavy eyelids, nodding again. "Yeah, baby. Fuck, suck my dick." He gives your ass an encouraging and light squeeze and you bite your lip, nodding eagerly - you don't need to hear more than that.

Your hands fly down to his belt, opening it quickly and pulling down his zipper. There's a wet spot on his checkered boxers and you feel your lips tilt upwards, knowing it's you who caused his visible arousal.

You pull his boxers down a little and his dick out and swallow at the sight. It's larger than you remember, delightfully curved and cut and you can't wait to wrap your lips around it. You sink down on your knees, licking your lips and give it a few quick strokes, until he's fully hard and groaning quietly.

Your mouth waters and your tongue darts out, licking over his head, making him hum, burying a hand in your hair. "There you go", Rodrick mumbles, fingers brushing a few loose strands of hair from your forehead, subtly pressing you closer to his crotch.

You look up at that, eyes meeting his and his expression makes your stomach flutter, giving his head another lick, slower this time. He tastes salty and of musk on your tongue and your eyelids flutter.

Rodrick moans somewhere deep in his throat as you wrap your lips around the head of his dick, throwing his head back making the door rattle. "Yeah, fuck", he breathes, hand caressing your scalp, "Keep going, girl."

That you do, slowly sucking and occassionally flicking your tongue over the hot, thick head while you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, jerking him in a similar rhythm for a while.

It doesn't take long for him to strengthen the hold he has of your hair and forcing you forward a little and you are happy to oblige, letting him slide deeper into your mouth. He's heavy on your tongue and you can feel the vein on the bottom of his dick. You rub your tongue against it and Rodrick groans, chest rising and stretching, shoving himself deeper into you as his hips jerk forward. It makes you sputter a little.

"Fuuuck", his voice is so so deep and he looks at you, the way saliva pools around his dick and between your lips and then he just snaps. He growls and thrusts deep into your throat.

You choke as the head of his cock makes contact with the back of your throat and spit swells at the corners of your mouth. He pulls away a little and you take a few quick breaths through your nose. He looks at you and it makes your heart drop. He looks anxious, but it fades right away as you nod around his dick, relaxing your throat for him. You want it. You want him to use you.

He seems to catch onto that, fingers gripping your hair and pushing you closer closer closer, until your nose is buried in his pubes. Breathing is difficult and you choke around his cock again but this time it makes him moan and then chuckle a little. Your hands come to rest on his thighs.

"Atta girl", he hums and your closed eyes tear up, feeling him pressing snuggly at your throat, his musky, masculine scent fogging up your mind.

Your breath eventually slows and he notices that, too, slowly starting to fuck into your mouth after warming him for a few moments. He groans as he keeps your face pressed close to his crotch, effortlessly sliding in and out between your lips. You can taste the salt of his precum, while he keeps pushing saliva out of your mouth with every thrust. The sounds it makes are obsence, wet and squelching, interrupted by his groans and moans and accompanied by your appreciative humming.

Rodrick picks up a faster rhythm and tilts your head up a little, forcing your gaze to meet his. His cheeks are flushed and he's panting heavily.

"Shit, princess, I'm so close", he groans, as he fucks deeper into you. Your fingers clench around his thighs and he gets the memo, lets you pull your head back, spluttering, drool dripping down your chin as the head of his dick hits your lower lip.

"Want it in my mouth", you mumble against it, throat coarse and he grins at that, eyes sparkling. You dart your tongue out, invitingly and thus, he's stuffing his cock back into your mouth. He holds your head in place as he fucks deep into your relaxed throat, jaw slack and eyelids fluttering, tearing up at the rapid thrust intruding your mouth.

"Gonna-", a throaty moan interrupts him, "Gonna give you every little drop, princess." And with that he pulls away and his dick out of your mouth, starts to stroke himself to completion, tip of his dick mere inches away from your lips. "Open up, sugar", he hums and you do, tongue and lips wet with spit, mascara stains underneath your eyes and that's the thing, the view that sends him toppling over the edge, orgasm rolling over him. He has to force himself to not throw his head back in pleasure, keeps his eyes trained on you.

"'S all f'you", he strokes your hair, hand closed around his dick as he shoots heavy ropes of salty cum onto your tongue, "Good girl, just don't swallow yet, alright?"

You nod - mind in a hazy state, gladly following his orders - and hum around the head of his cock, locking gazes with him until he's fully spent, gasping heavily. He's pretty, you think, with his flushed cheeks and swollen lips, dark eyes looking down at you with blown pupils. He stuffs himself back into his shorts and pulls his zipper up while you remain infront of him, still on your knees and mouth opened, cum and saliva pooling on your tongue. You think that a little might have hit your cheek, but you can't be sure.

Rodrick closes his belt and then his attention is back on you, a hand on your chin, thumb stroking your lower lip. "Fuck, you're pretty", he grins and it's that grin, mischievous and it goes straight to your core. He slowly pushes two fingers into your mouth, liquids pooling around them as he presses down, your jaw going slack.

You mewl and he grins as a few droplets run down your chin. "Open up, pretty girl", he rasps and leans over, his lanky figure hovering over you as he's putting his lips together and spits into your mouth. His saliva drips down slowly and then lands on your tongue, warm and wet.

It mingles with his cum and your own spit and you taste him differently now, less salt and musk. Instead it's rather bitter, tastes like the smoke of his cigarettes. His fingers start to fuck into your mouth and you obediently close your lips around them, pressing your thighs together. You feel the mixture of his cum and saliva pool at the corners of your mouth and you moan around his fingers at the sensation, the taste. He flicks his digits in and out of your mouth until he seems satisfied with the way the liquid spreads around and on your lips.

"Now you may swallow", he breathes, eyed fixed on your mouth, "Be a good girl and swallow, hm."

You do as you're told, gulping around the fingers between your lips until he's satisfied and pulls them out. You look up at him, gaze hazy, lips parted and gasping for air, rubbing your thighs together. "Picture perfect, ain't ya?", he hums and dries his fingers off on your cheek, spreading his juices all over your skin, giving you a slight pat on the cheek once he's done.

You slowly get up, knees all wobbly and turn around, wiping your mouth with your hand. As you reach for your bag in an attempt to grab your water bottle, his hand grip your upper arm. "Ah, ah, ah", he says scoldingly, stopping you in your movements, "Let me see first."

His foot shuffles between yours and pushes them apart, his hands running over your back. They wander down and over your ass, the material of your skirt rustling. It's pale and pretty and your favourite and the way it pools under his fingers makes you dizzy. Rodrick tugs at it, sliding his fingers underneath it and finally pulling it up. It slides over your backside, resting at your hips and you're all exposed, the cold air of the restroom hitting your warm skin.

His hand splays out, rubbing over the soft skin of your left cheek. You sway a little with it, hands darting out and finding the stall's walls, pressing the palms flat against them for support.

"Ain't you just pretty?", he hums, voice still deep and rough from coming down your throat, while he gives your buttcheek a little squeeze, before letting his hand come down on it. You jolt and gasp, the latter fading to a quiet moan in the back of your throat. The slight sting goes straight to your core.

"Would've fucked you right here", he mumbles, hand stroking the reddening skin, fingers now dancing at the side of your panties, "but we ain't got much time left, I'm afraid."

"Rodrick, fuck", you gasp and he chuckles behind you.

"Yeah, I got you, angel. We'll have time for a little touch, I guess", two of his fingers stroke your pussy through your dampened panties, rubbing back and forth. You mewl and wiggle your hips a little, to add both, friction and speed to his slow movements. His other hand comes down sharp on you butt and you moan, letting your head fall forward. "You're so fucking wet", he rasps and you nod nod nod, like you're possessed.

"Want you so bad", you mumble and he laughs at that.

"Yeah, I can feel that", one of his fingers finds your clit, circling it slowly but with force, the wet patch pressing coolly against your warm skin. It makes you whine and you feel your pussy tense up, hole clenching around nothing.

"Rodrick, please", you gasp, rocking against his fingers and making him slap your ass twice, one blow landing on your left cheek, the other on your right. Your fingers scrape the wooden wall, moans falling off your lips. There's still some of his cum sticking at the corners of your mouth and you feel dirty, but it's the good kind of dirty. It's knowing that he loves you that way.

His fingers finally slip underneath your panties, gliding along your wet folds, obsence sounds filling the air. His middle finger sinks into you, hot walls welcoming it home. He hums and his other arm wraps around your body, hand sneaking under your shirt, slipping in the cup of your bra and groping your tits.

He begins to fuck you very slowly, fingers toying with your nipple, thumb occassionally flicking over your clit. You're hot all over, walls clenching and pumping around him, silently begging for more, moans and gasps errupting from your throat as you relish in the feeling of an approaching orgasm as -

Riiing.

Rodrick stills, and then -

"Oh, play time's over already", he sing-songs, voice deep and coarse and you shake your head violently at that, but he is already carefully pulling his finger out of you, hand slipping out of your shirt. He puts your panties back in place as you try to recover your breath, legs shaking and pussy aching from a denied orgasm.

"Please", you whine, looking over your shoulder, "Don't-"

But he cuts you off, giving you a soft peck on the lips. "Are you free tonight?"

Well, technically you aren't, an assignment still waiting for you to finish it, while you're still waiting on your friend's reply, whether she can make some time for you later or if she's preoccupied by her boyfriend. But you nod anyways, eyes a little teary due to the denied release and lust still pulsating thickly through your veins.

"I'll swing by your place later and make it up to you", he whispers against your lips, loud footsteps already filling the hallway outside, "Better clean yourself up a little now, hm, princess?"

"Yeah", you whisper, stealing a quick kiss from him, that has his tongue darting out and licking away the rest of his cum sticking to the corners of your mouth. It shouldn't be that hot but it makes fresh wetness pool between your legs. You don't know what to make out of that gesture, it's a little too fond, like he's breaking his own rules.

"Great", his hand brushes over your forearm, while he unlocks the door, already out of the stall as he turns around once more, "I'll throw my number into your locker, so you can text me your address, 'that sound cool?"

And that, that just feels like he's thrown the whole fucking rulebook out. "Yeah sure", you hear yourself say, sounding dull and far away with the thundering of your heartbeat.

It's only half an hour later and in your next class that you notice the stain his cum and spit left on your skirt.

[iwadori]

are you going to do a 'when the haikyuu boys make you insecure' part with Iwaizumi / could I request that?

When they make you insecure part 6 (Iwaizumi,Matsukawa)

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5 Part 6

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

masterlist

AN: Did I embedd myself in this story? Yes, yes i did. :3 (it’s only a small part dw loool)

Iwaizumi

One day when you were walking to the gym to go see your boyfriend  

You overhear him and the team talking about some instagram girl

“She’s hot” you hear Boktuo yell doing a hoot as he fawns over a picture, with the rest of the guys agreeing.  

“What do you think Iwaizumi?” Hinata ask  

“She’s cute... I guess?” the rest of the guys, grunt in disagreement at Iwa’s lack of drooling over the girl.

“Well I see why you wouldn’t want her Haji-kun,” says Atsumu “you are into the more simple girls bro”

“Simple?” Iwaizumi questions, and the rest of the guys agree

“Yeah simple, you know Y/N... she’s simple” says one of the guys, with the word ‘simple’ rolling off their tounge with a tone of disgust.

“I guess your right guys...” Iwaizumi says “Y/N is pretty basic and simple but-”

You leave the gym before you hear what the rest of them had to say. When you got to your house you bolt straight to the mirror, you look at your outfit and frown. You never thought your style was ‘basic,’ to be fair you wouldn’t describe anybodys style as basic or simple. Of course, you weren’t like those instagram influencers, that wasn’t your thing. But Iwa has known that about you for years... but I guess that’s not what he truly likes.

You go to your closet and take out all the contents, just tossing all your clothes (even some of your favourite items ever) and dashing them in a black trash bag putting them to the side. You were already on a mission to buy a whole new wardrobe, going through all different stores and looking on pinterest for inspo.

You didn’t really talk to Iwa for the rest of the week, since you wanted him to see you in your ‘new form,’ you weren’t being radiosilent but you didn’t initiate any hang outs with him or face time calls (which he did find slightly odd, but didn’t think that much by it.)

Finally, the clothes came and you were kind of shocked at how much you ordered you spent over £200 on clothes from all different places. When you were trying them on, you liked some of them the ones that were kind of similar to your past style but not so ‘simple,’ the others you kind of frowned at since it definitely didn’t feel like ‘you’ at all. ‘This is for Iwa,’ you reminded yourself as your forced a smile on your face analysing yourself in the mirror.

You had everything sorted, your wardrobe was now changed and done the colours and styles you once wore before is now the complete opposite. You invited Iwa over, hesistantly waiting to see how would he react.  

When you hear your door knock, you rush over to open it and model a pose you saw one of those girl do trying to look as natural as possible.

“Hey babe ho-” he says, with his eyes widening seeing your new look “Woah Y/N!”

“Hey Haji..come in!” you exclaim with a beaming smile pulling him inside to the couch. “So, are we going to continue watching the crown, I watched the previous episode and god prince phillip is such a dick.”

You look over your shoulder and see Iwa still standing in your entranceway a bit awkwardly, looking a bit stunned. “Come sit down then, we’ve got an episode to watch.”

“uh oh yeah, sure” he says blinking, following you to the couch.

You got through atleast 4 episodes together, you barely talked as you were really engrossed in the show. Iwa was barely paying attention, he was too busy questioning how you were acting. This definitely wasn’t the girl he knew, even the way you were acting whilst watch the show was odd. The way you’d cutely giggle and ‘sublty’ look over to him whilst laughing at a funny part of the show instead of just doing your usual obnoxious laugh that he loved to hear.

“Oh Y/N, I’m going to go to the bathroom.” he says standing up, you don’t reply you just wave your hand in acknowledgement.

On his way to the bathroom, Iwa nearly trips on a black bag left outside your bedroom door. He opens it, and mildly gasped when he saw all your old stuff jumbled up in there. He picks up the back and goes straight back to the living room and stands in front of you.

“Haji, what are you doing you’re blocking the TV” you complaining trying to see what’s happening behind him.

He drops the black bag infront of you and you internally curse yourself for not moving. You stare at him waiting for him to say something.

“Well whats this then.” he says looking down at you, almost like a disapproving dad.

“Clothes.” you say smartly, knowing what he was asking.

“You know what I meant Y/N, why are all your clothes in a garbage bag.”  

“Because I wanted to put them there,” you wanted to seem as nochalant about it as possible as if putting all your clothes in a garbage bag doesn’t make you feel sad.

“Yeah but why?” he says sitting down next to you.

“Just because I wanted to” you reiterate “what else do you want me to say?”

“Well this isn’t like you, its just a bit random Y/N” he says

“I know this isnt like me you” you spat, standing up “Isn’t this what you wanted anyways.” You head to your bedroom picking up the bag with you, with Iwa hot on your heels.

“What do you mean this is what I wanted?” he says in disbelief “When did I ever say that?”

“It doesn’t matter” you mumble, you start to aggressively take our your old clothes and shove them back into your wardrobe whilst Iwa is just talking. You’re not really listening to him your just putting the clothes back.

“Y/N Stop!” he yells kind of knocking you out of your ‘trance,’ “what is going on with you?” he grabs you hands and pulls them down stopping you from what you were doing and he winced at seeing your tear stricken face.

He gently pulls you into his arms sitting you both on your bed, waiting for you to speak. “I don’t know what you want from me Iwa..” you start your voice slightly breaking “it’s just I did this all for you and you don’t even appreciate it.”

“I don’t know what you mean Y/N?” he says sounding genuinely confused.

“Y/N is simple and basic.” you say repeating words that you heard your boyfriend say about you, you feel him tense as you say it and you slowly get out of his hug.

“Y/N I-”

“That really hurt Hajime, I know now that I'm not your ‘type’ but I-”

“No Y/N, you are my type of course you are!” he says gulping in nervousness “I love you, and your style. I’ve always being enamored by how you dress and present yourself and I don’t know why I even said you’re basic and simple I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Really?” you say sniffling looking down

“Yes really you idiot,” he says lifting your head up “To be fair I don’t care what you wear, since you look great in anthing I just want you to be happy Y/N and especially not dress for anyone including me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree slightly nodding your head.

“Good, so can we go and finish the crown and then burn all these clothes?” Iwa jokes as he stands up.

“Burn them!” you exclaim “These cost £200, you muppet.”

“£200! Gosh Y/N, next time you go shopping im definitely coming with you.” he says shaking his head “can’t have you blowing out your bank account for clothes you don’t even like that much.”

You spend the rest of the day finishing of The Crown and you and Iwa eventually both sort out your wardrobe. Your style and aethetic changes a lot more through the times you were together and Iwa was very supportive and helpful of every single change. Especially *insert your favourite dress aesthetic here.*

Matsukawa

You were walking with your friends; Iwa, Tooru, Maki and your boyfriend Matsun. Walking to school as you did every morning, today the topic of conversation was Tooru’s bad taste in women.

“Gosh yesterday was horrible, she didn’t want to talk to me at all,” he complained “all she wanted to do was to come straight to my place, I didn’t even have the chance to tell her my hair routine.”

“That’s why you don’t find dates off of Tinder shittykawa” grunted Iwaizumi

“Well I know that now!” he exclaimed.

“Y/N,” said Makki grasping your attention “Would you ever use Tinder?”

“Well I-”

“Of course she wouldn’t” your boyfriend interrupted wrapping his arm round your shoulder “she’s got me”

“Yeah, but if you two weren’t together, would you use it.”

“Well may-”  

“Y/N definitely wouldn’t” he said interrupting you AGAIN “she’s way to frigid for that shit”

Frigid? You thought to yourself, ouch. Their was a quick awkward silence and all you could hear was Matsukawa laughing with the others laughing after awkwardly in pursuit. After sensing your uncomfortability (is that a word?) Oikawa decides to change the subject to make things less awkward,

“I need a woman who understands me!” he rants “One that can listen to me and appreciate my awesome hair.”

“Goodluck with that Shittykawa.”  

Oikawa rambles on as you walk to school with the other guys chiming in. You on the other hand, were lost in thought. Your sex life wasn’t something you would want to publicly talk about let alone to you and your boyfriends' male friends. Also, with Matsun describing you as ‘frigid’ struck a nerve. You weren’t frigid, well at least to you, you weren’t.  

When you got to school you immediately rushed straight to your lesson claiming that you teacher really needed to talk to you. Which was odd to Matsukawa as you usually all hung around each other until the bell rang, the other boys gave each other knowing looks all assuming the reasons for your odd behaviour.

At lunch time, you stayed in your class instead of going up to the roof where you and your friends usually end up. In the class room you hear one of the girls in your class, Empress having one of her usual gossip conversations with her group of friends.

“Hajime is so hot!” she said, fanning her face being dramatic  

“Of course he is! You should totally go for him.” her friend said and the rest of the friends agreed.

“What do you think Y/N?” she says to you catching your attention “you’re close friends with him right?”

“Yeah, I am” you say a bit sadly “You should definitely go for him, I think you’d be perfect together.”

“Okay! I think I might later” she says smiling. Her and friends leave, but then Empress returns and walks straight to you.

“Are you alright doll?” she asks softly smiling

“I guess so..” you say hesitantly “It’s just something my boyfriend said to me this morning.”

“Matsun?” she asks and you nod in reply “What did he say?”

After you rehash the situation from this morning Empress scowls in annoyance, “Boys can be such pigs sometimes, such a dick thing to say.”

“I know right!” you respond “Even if I was frigid, which im totally not it’s not even a bad thing nor is it something to reveal to people in public in a ‘jokey’ way.”

“Yeah!” she agrees “I think you should go and give him a piece of your mind.”

“I mean...” your voice falters, when it comes to Matsun you’ve never really given him a ‘piece of your mind,’ even when he makes jokes that you’re not so fond of.

“Come on!” she encourages “I’ll come with you and cheer you on.”

“You just want to come to see Iwa Empress” you say pointedly “But fine let’s go.”

You both power walk to the roof where you see the four seijoh boys sitting down and eating. “Oh hi Y/N/-chan and look Iwa its Emp-chan... isn’t that a surprise!” Iwa blushes and the rest of the guys laugh.

You walk straight up to Matsun and stand right infront of him. “Matsukawa I need to talk to you,” you say folding your arms. “Why whats up babe?” he says, still sitting down with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Alone.” you say turning around walking to a secluded spot. Behind you, you hear Matsun get up and the rest of the boys saying “oooh Matsukawa your in trouble” as they laugh.

“What’s wrong with you today Y/N?” he asks slightly accusatorily.  

“I didn’t appreciate the comment you made today on the way to school,” you say with your arms folded.

“Oh that little comment about you being frigid, come on it was just a joke I wasn’t being serious.” he says lightly laughing but he stops once he sees the glare you give him ”you knew it was a joke right?”

“Matsun, some are your jokes just aren’t funny,” you say “especially when they're about me and our sex life in front of our friends too.”

“Y/N I didn’t mea-”

“You just come off as a huge dick sometimes, and I can’t do this anymore if you keep on making these comments anymore I don’t think I can do this.”

“Woah Y/N, are you threatening to break up with me?” he asks “Over a few little comments?”

“These aren’t a few little comments, sometimes what you say is just unnecessary and rude.”

“Okay well...”

“Well...” you repeat staring at him waiting for to apologise or atleast say something, “fuck you Matsukawa.”

You storm away and walk bout to the group saying “Empress lets go.” She jumps of Iwa’s lap and waves by to them following you back down to the school. You walk into the bathroom and just start to cry, “Y/N whats wrong?” Empress says pulling you into a hug  

“H-He doesn’t care,” you cry “He pretty much excused his stupid comments, passing them off as little ‘jokes,’ that didn’t apparently mean anything.”

“Oh dear,” Empress says consoling you “he’s not worth your time right now.”

“B-but but I love him.” you wail fat tears streaming down your face.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” she says letting go of the hug “so what do you wanna do about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say “I don’t want to break up with him or anything, but is there a point in staying if he’s just going to make these comments again.”

“I don’t know Y/N, but whatever you wanna do I’ll support. Wether it’s keying his car or reading shitty fanfiction and crying.” Empress says making you laugh.

The final bell rings and now it's time to go home, of course you don’t walk with the guys so you just enjoy your own company walking home.

“Y/N! Y/N!” you hear from behind you and of course the only person it can be is Matsukawa.

“What do you want?” you mumbled  

“I..I want too” he says heaving out of breath from the running he had to do “I want to apologise. I need do.”

“Okay...” you respond

“Im sorry, Im so so sorry,” he says “those jokes and comments were stupid and I agree I can be a dick sometimes. Well a lot of the time, but I never wanted to be a dick to you.”

“Well you were.”

“I know I was, and I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse what I said and what I have said before I just hope I can make it up to you.”

“Okay then.”

“So are we not broken up?”

“No we’re not broken up, but it’ll take a lot of making up to do for me to fully forgive you.”

“Great! And I'll spend every day to get you to forgive me.”

Which he did, he spent every day showering you with love and affection. He was way better than he was before, you even went on double dates with Oikawa and his flavour of the week and triple dates with Iwa and his girlfriend. Matsukawa, although he still made jokes, he never targeted them and centered them around you in an insulting way.

AN: I didn’t really like the matsukawa one since i couldn’t really write for him properyl sooo sorry bout that one kids.

[makeste]

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

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STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

um

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

[ahtsumu]

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu​! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving. 

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

[hardestgrove]

#1 Crush | Buffy Summers x Eddie Munson

rating: G warnings: swearing words: 1,176 pairing: Buffy Summers x Eddie Munson, yes you have read this and the title correctly.

A/N: no one wanted this. no one asked for this. i wrote this anyway. I just think it’d be cute and i can’t stop thinking about btvs/st crossover ideas. are we in hawkins or sunnydale? yes. taglist (you know why): @emeraldwitches​ @polaris-talks-fandom​

“He’s cute.” Buffy pouted.

Xander looked at her like she was insane. “Buffy, he’s a drug dealer and he’s failed to graduate twice.”

Willow looked between them. “Oh well, I mean— the graduation thing isn’t that big a deal! I mean Oz didn’t graduate on time either and he’s not you know, stupid or bad or anything just um, kinda lazy?”

She winced and looked over apologetically at Buffy.

“Also there’s the whole you know, older than you thing.” Xander very so helpfully included.

Buffy gave him a look. “I dated a 400 year old vampire, a 20 year old is like, whatever. And I’m 18.”

“And I will say again— drug dealer.”

Buffy pouted harder. “So? It’s only like, weed. I set fire to the school gym at my old school and was wanted for murder and everything last year. I think we’re pretty even. In fact he’s probably got a leg up on me, I mean no arrest record and you know, has a future and all that.”

“Oh Buffy you have a future too!” Willow said.

Buffy pushed her food around her plate. “Not really. I mean I’m the slayer until I die. Not a lot of time with that in mix for a 9 to 5 and 2.5 kids you know?” She dropped her fork. “You know what I’m just gonna get over to next period early.” She picked up her tray and aborted the mess of a conversation.

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

Next period was English where Eddie Munson was sitting by the window fidgeting constantly.

Buffy tried to be covert in her staring at him. He was tall, though not as tall as Angel had been, and handsome in a scruffy way. His hair was long and looked surprising good on him, she wanted to run her hands through it— and get some conditioner in there, seriously. He was always wearing this denim vest with all these patches and things on it from what she assumed where metal bands over a leather jacket. He was slim with long legs that always seemed to go everywhere and the prettiest biggest brown eyes she’d ever seen.

And she was so totally hopeless mooning over him.

Faith was already making fun of her over it and telling her the horror stories of her time dating a drummer. But Eddie wasn’t a drummer he was a guitarist. Totally different. Oz was a guitarist and he wasn’t a loser boyfriend! Eddie and his band Corroded Coffin even played at the Bronze and he was like good. She wasn’t exactly revving to go all metal girl anytime soon but she knew enough about music to know he was talented. Oz had even commented on it a couple times when they were hanging out there and Eddie’s band was playing.

It was Thursday so they’d be playing tonight. It was probably why he was even more squirmy than usual. She smiled a little as she tried to focus back on the lesson but only really managed to get herself to look at the teacher while daydreaming about her outfit for tonight. She might be a little gun-shy now on trying to date while slaying after her many botched attempts but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get all dolled up and moon at him the whole time he was up there on stage looking sexy. Like, wasn’t that the whole purpose for him being up there in the first place?

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

Another Thursday, another night spent mooning at Eddie hoping he’d notice her in the crowd and just magically fall in love with her, then casing the Bronze for vampires when he didn’t and getting ready to head out to do the rest of her patrol before going home.

She’d made it into the back alley just in time. Eddie’s van was still there, half packed, while Eddie himself was being forcefully shoved against the brick wall.

“Dude what the fuck!”

Buffy sprinted over, slayer power and instinct taking out the vamp before it even had time to register what had happened. Eddie stared at her bewildered.

Oh shit.

“Um…” You would think after like, 4 years of doing this she’d be better about the excuses but no. She just kind of stared at him, her brain short circuiting from being so close to her crush. He smelled like cigarettes and musk. Guh.

“Uh, what the fuck was that?” Eddie looked from her to the stake in her hand still poised to strike. “Was that a vampire?”

Buffy shoved the stake behind her. “Um… if I said it was literally anything else that was more normal would you believe me?”

He gave her a Look. “Absolutely not.”

She made a face. “Yeah. Vampire. The whole town is kinda lousy with em.”

Eddie came off the wall, closing the space between them rapidly before Buffy’s brain kicked in and she remembered she could like, take a step back and probably should have when he did. He was just so…yummy and she liked the angle he was at looking at her with from there.

“Wait… those rumors are totally shit! You’re not in a gang or anything! This is why you’re all —“ he pantomimed boxing, grinning. “—you’re a god damn vampire slayer aren’t you?”

“The Slayer, actually. Kind of a chosen one. There’s only one— well two at the moment. It’s kinda complicated.”

“This is why there was that whole murder charge thing last year right? I always thought that sounded insane. No way little miss Cali Cutie Buffy Summers took someone out in library. It was a vampire or something like that right?”

Oh my god he said I was a cutie. “Yeah it was um, work related. Though I didn’t do it. It was another slayer, she was killed by vampires and I just got there at the wrong time. I have killed stuff in there though.”

He pumped his fist in the air. “I knew something was fucked up with this town! Guess I’m lucky you’re such a big fan huh? Otherwise I’d be vamp chow.”

Buffy felt her whole face flush. “You noticed I was there?”

Eddie grinned his wicked Cheshire grin. “Hard not to notice when one of the prettiest girls in school starts to show up at all your gigs like she’s dressed for date and just watches you the whole time.”

She toyed with her stake, unable to halt the slow spread of her smile across her face. She looked up at him through her lashes.

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Buffy I think you’re gorgeous.” His face and tone were so matter of fact her heart skipped a happy beat.

Buffy grinned. “Well I think you’re pretty gorgeous yourself.”

Eddie grinned back and motioned back to the Bronze with his head. “Can I buy you a drink or something?”

“Maybe another time? I do kind have to finish my patrol… Sacred duty and all that...”

“Then how about this —“ Eddie offered her his arm. “— You patrol, I go with you and while we’re doing that you can explain to me in what ways exactly is this town completely fucked up?”

Buffy linked her arm with his. “I think that sounds wonderful.”

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x11 thoughts

For an episode that ends with a journalist Ted trusts but has (understandably) recently lied to warning Ted that he’s publishing an article about his panic attacks, it was fitting that this episode seemed entirely about what all of these characters choose to tell each other. And after most of a season of television that Jason Sudeikis has described as the season in which the characters go into their little caves to deal with things on their own, it turns out they are finally able to tell each other quite a lot.

Which is good because, um, wow, a lot is going to happen in the season finale of this show!

Thoughts on the things people tell each other behind the cut!

Roy and Keeley. I absolutely loved the moment during their photoshoot in which they bring up a lot of complicated emotional things and are clearly gutted (“gutted”? Who am I? A GBBO contestant who forgot to turn the oven on?) by what they’ve heard. We already know that Keeley and Roy are great at the kinds of moments they have before the shoot begins, in which Roy builds Keeley up and tells her she’s fucking amazing. From nearly the beginning of their relationship, they’ve supported each other and been each other’s biggest fans. But their relationship has gone on long enough that they’ve progressed from tentative arguments about space and individual needs into really needing to figure out what they mean to each other and how big their feelings are and what that means in relation to everything else. Watching these two confess about the uncomfortable kiss with Nate, the unexpectedly long conversation with Phoebe’s teacher, and—most painfully—the revelation that Jamie still loves Keeley didn’t feel like watching two people who are about to break up. (Although I could see them potentially needing space from each other to get clarity.) It felt like watching two people realize just how much they’d lose if they lost each other, which is an understandably scary feeling even—or especially—when you’re deeply in love but not entirely sure what the future holds. Not entirely sure what you’re capable of when you’ve never felt serious about someone in quite this way, and are realizing you have to take intentional actions to choose that relationship every single day. I’m excited to learn whether Roy and Keeley decide they need to solidify their relationship more (not necessarily an engagement, but maybe moving in together or making sure they’re both comfortable referring to the other as partner and telling people they’re in a committed relationship) or if things go in a different direction for a while.

Sharon and Ted. I’ve had this feeling of “Wow, Ted is going to feel so intense about how honest he’s been with Sharon and is going to end up getting really attached and transfer a lot of emotions onto the connection they have and that is stressful no matter how beneficial it has been for him to finally get therapy!” for a while now. And Sharon’s departure really brought that out and it was indeed stressful. But the amount of growth that’s happened for both of these characters is really stunningly and beautifully conveyed in this episode. Ted is genuinely angry she left without saying goodbye, and he doesn’t bury it some place deep inside him where it will fester for the next thirty years. He expresses his anger. (I also noticed he sweared—mildly—in front of her again, which is really a big tell for how much he has let his carefully-constructed persona relax around her.) He reads her letter even though he said he wasn’t going to, and he’s moved. I don’t think Ted has the words for his connection to Sharon beyond “we had a breakthrough,” but Sharon gets it, and is able to firmly assert a professional boundary by articulating her side of that breakthrough as an experience that has made her a better therapist. And is still able to offer Ted a different kind of closure by suggesting they go out before her train leaves. No matter how you feel about a patient/football manager seeing their therapist/team psychologist colleague socially, I appreciated this story because IMO it didn’t cross big lines but instead was about one final moment in this arc in which both Ted and Sharon saw each other clearly and modeled what it is to give someone what they need and to expect honesty and communication from them. I liked that Ted ends up being the one saying goodbye. (The mustache in the exclamation points!) I like that whether or not Sharon returns in any capacity (Sarah Niles is so wonderful that I hope she does, but I’m not sure), the goodbye these characters forge for themselves here is neither abandonment nor a new, more complicated invitation. It’s the end of a meaningful era, and although the work of healing is the work of a lifetime, it’s very beautiful to have this milestone.

Ted and Rebecca. So, maybe it’s just me, but it kinda feels like these two have a few li’l life things to catch up on?! (HAHHHHHaSdafgsdasdf!) I really adored their interactions in this episode. I maintain that Biscuits With The Boss has been happening this whole time (even when Ted’s apartment was in shambles, there’s biscuit evidence, and I feel like we’ve been seeing the biscuit boxes in Rebecca’s office pretty regularly too), even if it might have been more of a drive-by biscuit drop-off/feelings avoidance ritual. It was really lovely to see Ted on more even footing in Rebecca’s office, joking around until she tells him to shut up, just like the old days. And GOSH—for their 1x9 interaction in Ted’s office to be paralleled in this episode and for Ted to explicitly make note of the parallel in a way Rebecca hears and sees and understands?! MY HEART. In both of Rebecca’s confessions, she is not bringing good news but it is good and meaningful that she chooses to share with Ted. In both situations, Ted takes the moment in stride and offers acceptance equivalent to the gravity of what she has to confess. And in both situations, he’s not some kind of otherworldly saint, able to accept Rebecca no matter what because he’s unaffected by what she shares. He is affected. When he tells her about Sam, you can see a variety of emotions on his face. Rebecca is upset and Ted is calm, and even if I might have liked for him to try to talk about the risk the affair poses to the power dynamics on the team or any number of factors, I also really liked that he just accepts where she is, and—most importantly—does not offer her advice beyond examining herself and taking her own advice. A massive part of being in a relationship with another person (a close relationship of any nature) is figuring out how to support that person without necessarily having to be happy about every single thing they do. It’s so important that Ted connects what she’s just told him about Sam back to what she told him last season about her plot with the club. These both feel like truth bombs to him, and he is at least safe enough to make that clear. These are both things that impact him, things that shape how he sees her and maybe even how he sees himself. He cares about her and is capable of taking in this information; he has room for it. But it’s not something he takes lightly, and neither does she. See you next year.

Tumblr user chainofclovers and the TV show Ted Lasso. My brain is going wild thinking about all the ways the next “truth bomb” conversation could go in 3x11 or whatever. Maybe they go full consistent parallel and Rebecca confesses something else, this time about her and Ted or some other big future thing that impacts him as much or more as the other confessions have. (The same but different.) Maybe the tables turn and Ted has something to confess to her. While the 1x9 conversation ended in an embrace and the 2x11 conversation ended with a bit more physical distance (understandable given the current state of their relationship and the nature of the discussion), the verbal ending of both conversations involved voices moving into a sexier lower register while zooming in to talk specifically about their connection to each other, so I have to assume there will be some consistencies in s3 even if the circumstances will be completely different. I don’t really know where I’m going with this and I obviously will go insane if I sustain this level of anticipatory energy until Fall 2022 but I have a feeling my brain and heart are going to try!

Sam and Rebecca. I know there’s been a lot of criticism about whether this show is being at all realistic about the power dynamics and inevitable professional issues this relationship would create. On some level, I agree; I like that pretty much everyone who knows about the affair has been kind so far, but you can be kind and still ask someone to contend with reality. But I also think that in nearly every plot point on this show, the narrative is driven by how people feel about their circumstances first and foremost. (It’s why the whiteboard in the coaching office and the football commentators tell us more about how the actual football season is going from a points perspective than anyone else.) This episode reminded me how few people know about Sam and Rebecca, and how much their time together so far has been time spent in bed. The private sphere. I thought this episode really expertly brought the public sphere into it, not—thank goodness—through a humiliating exposure or harsh judgment but through an opportunity for Sam that illustrates not only all his potential to do great things but how much Rebecca’s professional position and personal feelings are in conflict with that. Could stand in the way of that. I don’t have a strong gut feeling about where this will go, but I do think Sam’s face in his final scene of this episode is telling. He started the episode wanting to see Rebecca (his most recent text to her was about wanting to connect), and Edwin’s arrival from Ghana really exploded his sense of what is possible for his life. If he’d arrived home to Rebecca sitting on his stoop prior to meeting Edwin, he’d have been delighted. Now he’s conflicted, and whatever decision he makes, he has to reckon with the reality that he cannot have everything he wants. No matter what. And Rebecca—she has taken Ted’s advice and is attempting to be honest about the fact that she can’t control Sam’s decisions but hopes he doesn’t go, and even saying that much feels so inappropriate. And I’m not sure how much she realizes about the inappropriateness of the position she’s putting him in, although maybe she’s getting there considering she exits the scene very quickly. I’ve honestly loved Rebecca’s arc this season. I think it’s realistic that she got obsessed with the intimacy she thought she could find in her phone. I think it’s realistic that her professional and personal ambitions are inappropriately linked. (They certainly were for Rupert. It’s been years since she’s known anything different; even if she’s done some significant recovery work to move on from her abusive marriage and figure out her own priorities, she’s got a long way to go.) I know there are people who will read this interaction between Rebecca and Sam as a totally un-self-aware thing on the part of “the show” or “the writers” but what I saw is two people who enjoyed being in bed together and now have to deal with the reality that they’re in two different places in their lives and that one has great professional power over the other. If that wasn’t in the show, I wouldn’t be able to see it or feel so strongly about it.

Edwin and Sam. I really enjoyed all the complexities of this interaction. Edwin is promising a future for Sam that doesn’t quite exist yet, though he has the financial means to make it happen. He offers this by constructing for Sam a Nigerian—and Ghanaian—experience unlike anything he’s found in London. Sam is amazed that this experience is here, and Edwin’s response is to explain to him that the experience is not here. Not really. The experience in Africa. Sam has of course connected to the other Nigerian players on the team, but this is something else entirely. I’m really curious if Sam is going to end up feeling that what Edwin has to offer is real or not. That sense of home and connection? So real. And so right that he would want to experience that homecoming and would want to be part of building that experience for others. But at the end of the day, he went to a museum full of actors and a pop-up restaurant full of “friends,” and is that constructed authenticity as a stand-in for a real homecoming more or less real than the home he’s building in Richmond? (With other players who stand in solidarity with him, and with well-meaning white coaches who say dumb stuff sometimes, and an a probably-doomed love interest, and a feeling that he should put chicken instead of goat in the jollof, and the ability to stand out as an incredible player on a rising team.)

Nate and everyone. But also Nate and no one. Nate’s story is so painful and I’m so anxious for next week’s episode. For a long time I’ve felt that a lot of Nate’s loyalties are with Richmond, and a lot of his ambitions are around having given so much to this place without getting a lot back, and having a strong feeling that he’s the answer to Richmond’s future. But now I’m not so sure; his ambitions have transferred into asking everyone he knows (except Ted, of course), if they want to be “the boss.” But Nate is all tactics and no communication. When he wants to suggest a new play to Ted, he hasn’t yet learned to read Ted’s language to learn that Ted is eager to hear what he has to say. And while Ted has been really unfortunately distracted about Nate and dismissive of him this season, he clearly respects Nate’s approach to football and was appreciative of the play. Nate just can’t hear that. The suit is such a great metaphor of all the things Nate is in too much pain to be able to hear clearly. Everyone digs at him for wearing the suit Ted bought him (including Will, who’s got to get little cuts in where he can, because he’s got to be sick of the way Nate treats him), but when he gets fed up his solution isn’t to go out on his own and find more clothes he likes; he asks Keeley to help him. And then crosses a major line with her...and no matter how kind she was about it, she was clearly not okay. Everything is going to blow up, and I’m so curious as to whether Nate will end up aligning himself with Rupert in some way or if he’s going to end up screwed over by Rupert and in turn try to screw over his colleagues even worse than he’s already done. Or try desperately to make amends even though it could be too late for some. Either way, I’m fully prepared to feel devastated. (And there’s no way I’m giving up on this character. If he’s able to learn, I truly believe he could end up seeking forgiveness and forging a happier existence for himself. Someday. Like in season 3 or something.)

Ted and Trent. Trent deciding to reveal his source to Ted is a huge deal, and I’m torn between so many emotions about this exposé. I’m glad it’s a Trent Crimm piece and not an Ernie Loundes piece. I’m glad that Trent made the decision to warn Ted and let him know that Nate is his source. I fear—but also hope—that this exposure will set off a chain reaction of Ted learning about some of the things he’s missed while suffering through a really bad bout with his dad-grief and panic disorder. The things Ted doesn’t know would devastate him. I wonder if Ted will want to figure out a way to make Nate feel heard and reconcile with him, and I wonder how that will be complicated if/when he realizes Nate has severely bullied Will, gets more details on how he mistreated Colin, etc. I wonder if Rebecca, whom Nate called a “shrew” right before she announced his promotion, will be in the position of having to ask Ted to fire him, or overriding Ted and doing it herself. So many questions! I have a feeling it’ll go in some wild yet very human-scaled, emotionally-nuanced direction, and I’ll be like “Oh my GOD!” but also like “Oh, of course.”

This VERY SERIOUS AND EMOTIONAL REVIEW has a major flaw, which is that none of the above conversations include mention of the absolute love letter to N*SYNC. Ted passionately explains how things should go while dancing ridiculously! Will turns on the music and starts gyrating! Roy nods supportively! Beard shouts the choreography like the Broadway choreographer of teaching grown men who play football how to dance like a boy band. Everyone is so incredibly proud when they nail it. I love them.

I cannot believe next week is the end. For now. I’m kind of looking forward to letting everything settle during the hiatus, but I’ve really loved the ride.

[uglypastels]

Hogwarts idea

Can you make a fic about how Tom sneakes out at night to spend the nights in the readers room (common room/bedroom) he’s a gryffindor and she’s a ravenclaw

Maybe they have a deal with the house teacher of one of the houses. Maybe he tries to hide in her bed as so not to wake the others. Maybe they fall asleep in the common room and have a minor panic when they wake up and it’s morning. Maybe they accidentally switch clothes or one of them steal the others clothes so they walk around with the wrong colors.

love love love love this!!! and I'm sorry it took me so long, I've been in a bit of a writing slump, but this is the best request to get me out of it! thank you <3 and hope you like it. (this got a bit out of hand and I might have changed the ending a lil bit but I hope its good heh)

(gender neutral!reader, I think? at least that's what I went for but if I accidentally missed something just let me know and I'll edit, I'm dumb)

_________________

Being in your seventh year at Hogwarts, with exams just around the corner, was taking up almost every waking minute of your days. Adding the fact that you had your Head Student duties, and Tom had his Quidditch house team to take care of, meaning that you barely ever had time for each other. The only solution, in your young and smitten minds, was that some rules needed to be broken- just a little bit.

It took Tom some time to convince you since you were supposed to be setting the right example for the younger students, but eventually, one gloomy Friday morning, he finally got to you.

"C'mon, love, it will be fun," he had his arm draped around you as you tried to enjoy your breakfast, the looks of your fellow housemates never going unnoticed. There had never been a rule against students eating meals at different tables, and yet, seeing the captain of the Gryffindor team spending all his mornings and evenings at the Ravenclaw table was a strange sight. He preferred your table, he had said one day when you asked, it was quieter. That you could not disagree with. The Gryffindors were always rowdy.

"I don't know Tommy, what if we get in trouble?" you bit the inside of your cheek, as you always did when you got nervous. Tom responded by pulling you in tighter and kissing your cheek, then said:

"That's half the fun of it, darling." His words rushed an array of feelings through you. A part of you started to feel flustered, while the other wanted to shove his face in the large bowl of porridge that stood on the table.

"Please," he looked at you with his usual sad puppy-eyed look. "I feel like never get to see you, y/n. So I'll come over tonight, you can let me into the Rave tower, we'll hang out a bit and then I'll leave- like nothing ever happened. What do you think?"

"I don't know, Tommy-" You tried to keep a straight face, but it was hard to say no to a gorgeous face like his. after a few short moments of silence, you finally agreed, "fine. Be there at 10. Do not be late, Holland."

"I wouldn't dare to waste a second away from you." He kissed you, grabbed a slice of toast (from your plate, of course), and got up.

"Wait, where are you going?" You asked, confused, since breakfast wouldn't end for another 20 minutes.

"I'm kind of late for early detention with McGonagall," he chuckled before running off, toast between his teeth. You just rolled your eyes and finished your meal in peace.

You never really thought that your classes were boring, but that day, every minute seemed to go by at a quarter of its speed. It was as if someone had put a time-stopping hex on you if that even was a thing. You couldn't wait to finish your studies in the library (the scheduled hours at the library was necessary since there was still so much to get through before the NEWTs), so you could make your way back to the Great Hall for dinner. Once there, you immediately were on the lookout for the head of dark brown curls. You stood in the doorway, letting people pass you, but no luck; Tom was nowhere to be seen.

Internally, you already started cursing. It would be just your luck that he'd get attention again for the rest of the night. Why did you have to fall for the troublemaker-

"Aaah!" you shrieked as suddenly your feet were lifted from the ground. Arms wrapped around your middle, and you were spinning around. You wanted to scream more, but you heard the familiar laugh, and it immediately put you at ease.

"Put me down," you laughed. Tom complied without pretence. But his hands remained at your sides as you turned to face him. And then, eagerly, his lips met yours in a chaste kiss.

It was, of course, silly to think that you could have this moment just for yourself, in a hall filled with hundreds of students. Only a few seconds into your kiss, you could hear wolf-whistles around you. Someone, who sounded very much like Tom's friend and team co-captain Harrison, called out from afar: "Get it, Holland!" Tom was quick to put up two fingers in his direction, not paying attention to anyone. But the mood was ruined, and you pulled apart.

"Missed you today," he said softly.

"Missed you, too." You replied. His fingers slipped between yours, and like that, hand in hand, you were already making your way to the Ravenclaw table, but, unfortunately, Tom was stopped when someone tugged at the back of his robes.

"Oi, you dickhead-" but he laughed it off when he saw it was Ben, another friend and member of the Gryffindor team.

"Sorry 'bout that," Ben apologised, "but we're supposed to be holding a team meeting, remember?" He pointed over at the Gryffindor table, and, indeed, the rest of the team was huddled together at the edge of the table. Harrison had gotten up when he saw you and Tom looking, returning the gesture of the two fingers held up in the V-shape.

"Shit, I forgot." Tom brushed his fingers through his hair. He looked at you, eyes already full of regret, and you could tell he was ready to apologise, but you stopped him before he even opened his mouth.

"Don't worry, we'll talk later, yeah." You kissed him on the cheek, "remember, 10."

And miraculously, Tom did remember. As the clock in the Ravenclaw common room struck 10, you heard the faint knock at the other side of the entrance. Of course, Tom knew where and how to access the Ravenclaw tower, but the riddles that the eagle doorknocker asked were at times a bit too hard, bless him.

You pushed the door open, and there he stood. His robes were exchanged for sweatpants and a hoodie. A blue one, you noticed, not that that would help him fit in with the crowd in the common room. Tom had been team captain for the past three years, and his team had not failed to win the cup once since he had even joined the team, to begin with. Everyone in school knew him and adored him. Not even the rest of your house managed to be mad at him (though the Ravenclaw team definitely held a bit of a grudge after a few bad losses over the years).

He stepped inside, and you quickly lead him around the common room up the stairs of the dormitories.

You had heard that years ago, the stairs had a spell on them that stopped the male students from even attempting to step up to the other dormitories. Now, however, this "rule" has been dropped, ever since several students expressed their concerns for the double standards between the male and female student body, as well as the discomfort it might set up for the queer students.

Personally, you thought it would be even better if every student could have their own room, since sharing a space with four other people could get a bit crowded at times and you liked your privacy, but it was understandable that in an ancient building like Hogwarts renovations were not always an option.

Luck struck once more when you opened the door to your dormitory, and it was empty. All of your friends were still out, most likely staring at their books, in the hopes of getting struck with a moment of brilliance that could help them pass their exams. You closed the door, and Tom made himself comfortable in your bed.

It felt like the entire day had already been wasted, not to mention dinner, so you hurried down to your bed, pulling down the curtains of the four-poster, just to get that little bit of privacy you longed for at the end long day. But, of course, it was nothing unusual or suspicious since you often closed your curtains when you were too tired to chat with your roommates.

It was dark with the curtains closed, but Tom was quick to pull out his wand and murmured "lumos" the tip immediately illuminated in soft blue light. The glow was just enough for you to see his face, the goofy grin taking over his features.

"What are you laughing at?" you asked, whispering in case someone would walk in.

"Nothing," he shrugged, "just happy to be here with you."

"You're daft," you laughed.

"Yeah, about you," and with that, he kissed you. The light at the end of his want went out as he dropped between you. His lips were soft and sweet, the pudding that had been served with dinner still lingering on him. He must have stolen a few cookies from the table when it had finished, you thought, to eat later. He often did that.

You stayed like that, cuddling, stealing kisses from one another, for hours, probably. You were never quite sure because eventually, you both drifted off into a slumber. You could have probably slept like that, wrapped in his arms, forever, if it wasn't the bright light peeking through your curtains that was hitting you right in the face. And the whispers. You could hear people talking.

"I swear, they're just the cutest." It was your friend talking.

"But do they really need to do it here?" A second voice said, also familiar to you. "I mean, how many rules do you think they're breaking?"

"Oh shut!" you heard pillows being thrown. Or at least assumed that was what was happening around you. You couldn't be bothered to open your eyes, instead deciding to focus on Tom and his calm breathing. Your head was close to his chest, so you felt it rise with each inhale he took, and you could hear his heartbeat.

It was Saturday, meaning no classes. You had studied every day for the past few weeks, definitely deserving a little break for the day. If you remembered correctly, Tom wouldn't have training until the late afternoon and you could always skip breakfast. If you got hungry before tea, you could always sneak into the kitchens. After all, the two of you had already broken so many rules, what would be the harm in one more.

Ignoring the further whispers of your friends, you snuggled closer to Tom, feeling his arm wrapping tighter around you. Both of you shuffled around a bit, trying to find back the comfort from the night, and quickly you fell back to sleep.

The End

[tobesolonely]

kindergarten teachers

summary: teacher!harry and coworker y/n have a hard time coming to terms with their feelings for each other

a/n: ahhh she’s finally done! i’ve been working on this fic for sooo long and i hope u all like it! big thanks to @queencharry​ for helping me when i got stuck and beta reading, and @behindthatbabyface​ for beta reading as well and giving me feedback!! i appreciate u both <3 enjoy ~11.3k words of some mutual pining and teacher!h interacting with lil kindergarteners 🥺also i am sorry if theres any major grammar mistakes (as always) or crazy typos, i always miss some things when i go back and proofread that im sure i’ll catch later! thank u

warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol 

talk to me about harry and y/n! let me know your thoughts!!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

From the time you were very young, you knew you wanted to be a teacher. One of your earliest childhood memories was going to school dressed up as one for career day. Your usually untamed hair was pulled back into a sleek bun (courtesy of your mother), and you donned a funky baby-pink sweater. For bottoms, you wore the closest thing to a pencil skirt you had in your five-year-old wardrobe. When you look back on the photographs your mother took of you that day, you did not resemble a teacher in any way. You were sure if you had not done your Career Day presentation in front of the whole class, no one would have even known who you were dressed up as.

Once you moved onto college and declared Education as a major, that was when people really started to let you hear their opinions on the career path you wanted to pursue. It seemed like whenever you went home for a holiday, relatives were always in your ear saying, “You know teachers don’t make a lot of money, right? Have you ever considered something in the sciences?”. You always responded, “I know, but what would the world do without teachers?”.

Eventually, you finished your undergraduate career, successfully completed student teaching with the highest praise from your superiors and colleagues, obtained your teaching credentials, and even went back to school to get your Master’s degree. So, it was much to everyone’s surprise when you settled on being a Kindergarten teacher. People assumed that because you completed so much schooling, you wanted to be a university professor. However, the thought never even crossed your mind. You always thought Kindergarten teachers were the most impressionable people out there and knew you wanted to be one.

To you, there was no greater responsibility than that of a Kindergarten teacher. It was your responsibility to teach your students reading, writing, art, and music at the most basic level. You showed them how to play with others, how to be kind, and give them the tools necessary to succeed once they leave your classroom. You were the first teacher your students ever had, so you needed to make them fall in love with school instead of hate it, considering they’d have to stick to it until they were at least eighteen. 

You’ve been a credentialed Kindergarten teacher for the last three years, and you’ve loved every moment of it. You were one of the younger teachers at school, but you never felt left out. Your colleagues were amazing people who often shared tips and tricks they wish they knew when they first started teaching.

Now, you were groggily unlocking the door to your classroom, feeling those first-day-of-school jitters you always felt. You knew kindergarteners weren’t there to harshly critique you. Still, you wanted them to go home and tell their parents about how excited they were to have you as a teacher, not run home in tears. That never happened, of course, but you didn’t want to take any chances. You drop your keys and mutter a quiet, “Shit!” setting your travel mug filled with coffee on the ground and readjust the box of donuts you had for your kids on your hip. As you reach for your keys, you hear a deep voice ask if you need help. You quickly turn around, eyes wide from being startled.

“Oh! You scared me,” you place your free hand over your chest. “But yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m struggling to get my door open.” The man nods, his own keys he wore around his neck jangling as he retrieves first your keys, then your coffee mug.

“I’m Harry– Mr. Styles, if you want,” he holds your keys out for you to take, your coffee mug still in his large hands. “Uh, I’m the new Kindergarten teacher.” You give him a confused look and trade the box of donuts in your arms for your keys, opening the door. “The last one, Mrs. Brown, I think it was, I guess she decided a few weeks back that she wanted to retire.” You get your door open and walk inside your classroom, turning on the lights. It was a little stuffy, considering you hadn’t been there to open any windows in about a month.

“Oh, that’s right! Welcome,” you give him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N– Miss Y/L/N if you want.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks. “We’re gonna be working together then, it seems. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mrs. Brown, but it’ll be nice to collaborate with someone closer to my age, you know?” Harry nods, and you realize he still had your coffee mug and box of donuts in his hands. “You can just set that on my desk, thanks for helping out. Would you like a donut?”

“Um, I- it’s okay,” he stammers, setting the items down. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ll probably crash if I have a donut first thing in the mornin’.” You smile at him and move to open all your windows and the back door, wanting the stuffy classroom to air out a bit before the children got here. 

“I totally get that,” you giggle, walking back over to your desk. “Are you excited about the first day? I always get a little nervous. I also talk a lot when I’m nervous, I’m sure you caught onto that.” 

For the first time that morning, Harry laughs. “Yeah, I’m nervous, too. ’ve never taught in the States before, so this is a bit new to me.” He’s playing with the keys hanging from his lanyard. 

“I noticed you had an accent, but I didn’t know if it was weird to ask about it. What brings you to California?” You open the box of donuts and take one out, wanting to eat it before it gets cold, and the glaze hardens.

“Uh, I went to University here, but when I graduated, I decided to go back home and teach for a couple of years. I really missed being here though and wanted to come back, so I got my credentials, and uh, here I am,” he tells you with a grin, and you notice he has deep dimples. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” you tell him earnestly. “The kids are just gonna love your accent, too!” you joke and Harry laughs for the second time that day. 

“If all else fails, ’m hopin’ to charm everyone over with my accent,” he stares at you for a moment before speaking again. “Well, I better finish getting situated. It’s fifteen til, and I reckon the children will be arriving soon, yeah?” He asks. You nod. 

“Best to be waiting at parent drop-off too, there are always a few parents that are just as nervous as their babies, if not more, and could use a quick pep talk.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know. I was thinking about standing out there anyway, just to make a good first impression.” You take another bite of your donut, giving him a thumbs up. 

“You’ve got this, Harry. I know you’re not completely clueless since you’ve taught before, but I know the first day can be a little intimidating. You know where I am if you need anything.” He gives you a grateful smile, quietly thanking you before turning to walk out the door. You’re left thinking about your new coworker, only being pulled from your thoughts of him when the first bell rings.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Miss Y/L/N. Are you all excited to get this school year started?” A chorus of high-pitched yeses fills the room, and you smile warmly at your class. “I’m so excited that you’re all here! I have a little surprise for each of you!” You grab the box of donuts and walk back to the rug in the center of the room that the children usually sat on for storytime. Little gasps fill your ears, and they all say, “Donuts!” and “Yummy!”. You smile at the kids again, already feeling overwhelmed with how adorable they were. 

“We all get a donut?” one little girl asks, her eyes wide. You nod at her.

“Of course! Everyone will get a donut, sweetie.” You move to get the plastic food gloves you kept so you can safely hand out a donut to everyone. “Okay guys, I’m going to pass a stack of napkins around the room. Take one and pass the stack to the person sitting next to you. Does that make sense?” All the students nod their heads in confirmation, so you grab a stack and hand them to the child sitting closest to you. “Once the last person has their napkin, let me know, and then it’ll be donut time!” You say this over-enthusiastically, and the children squirm in their seats in excitement.

As you go around handing out donuts to each of your students, you learn their names and ask them to tell you one fun fact about them. Most children say things like, “I have a brother/sister!” or “I can run really fast!”, and you find it absolutely adorable. One thing you loved the most about teaching five-year-olds was their ability to think everything was cool. It was comforting to know that no matter what you did, they’d find you cool, and your first-day jitters quickly dissipated. As the children eat their donuts, you read them a story, putting on different voices for all the various characters. You show them how to raise their hand when they have something they’d like to share and remind them to use their “listening ears” when you or one of their classmates are speaking.

When it’s time for recess, you show them how to line up quietly at the door, and assign a line leader and a hall monitor. You remind the children that they will all get a turn at these tasks eventually because it’ll switch every week, and not to worry. As you’re walking down the hall backward (one of your teachers walks that you’d finally perfected), you hear Harry’s voice.

“Okay Room Ten, we’re gonna go out to the playground now, where you all will get to play every recess and lunch. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” He asks them, and you hear little voices chattering out to him in excitement. You can’t help but peek into his classroom as you walked by, as his door was open. He didn’t see you because he was busy organizing his class into a straight line, so you keep going. Your class, who, much to your surprise, was walking very quietly, got loud once they saw the Kindergarten play area had a slide and monkey bars.

“We get to play on this?” one of your students, Destiny, questions. 

“Yup! This is a pretty cool play area, isn’t it?” They nod and stare at you, waiting for direction. “Oh, you can all go play and run around, get some of that energy out. When the bell rings, though, I want you to listen to the yard teachers because they’re gonna help get you all lined back up so we can go back inside. Deal?” The children give you nods and thumbs up, and you grin at them, telling them to have fun and be nice to one another. As you’re turning to go to the teacher’s lounge to refill your mug of coffee, you see Harry walking down the hallway with his class, and decide to wait for him. He gives his class the same spiel you gave yours and tells them to “Treat each other with kindness” before noticing you waiting for him.

“Hey,” he gives you a grin, looking far more relaxed than he did when you saw him earlier that morning. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s great,” you reply, leading him in the direction of the teacher’s lounge. “They’re all adorable.”

“Yeah, don’t know what I was so nervous fo’. They’re great. Also, you’re right,” Harry has an amused look on his face. “The first thirty minutes of ’em bein’ there was just them askin’ me to say things because they think I sound funny.” 

“I told you!” you exclaim, laughing at him. “A British accent is definitely not something we hear every day, not here at least.”

“I figured,” he replies, and silence falls between you. “Where are we going, by the way?”

You stop in front of a blue door and sift through the keys on your lanyard, finally finding the one you were looking for. “Teacher’s lounge. Have you had the chance to check it out yet?” He shakes his head, and you pull open the door after having unlocked it. “After you.” He shakes his head and steps back, signaling you go ahead of him. You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he gives you a defensive look.

“What? ‘M a gentleman. Ladies first,” he insists, holding the door open. You walk inside the room, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. There aren’t many teachers in the lounge. You figure they all must be in their classrooms, trying to do some last-minute organization and lesson planning amidst the first day of school chaos. However, a few colleagues that you’re rather fond of are in the room, so you take it upon yourself to introduce them to Harry.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a relaxing morning!” They chuckle lightly at your sarcasm. “I’d like you all to meet Mr. Harry Styles. He’s the new Kindergarten teacher that took Mrs. Brown’s place.” A look of realization washes over all three teachers’ faces, and they warmly greet him. Harry goes around, shaking each of their hands, voice dripping with charm.

“Lovely to meet you all. Looking forward to collaborating,” he tells them quietly. They begin engaging in polite conversation, so you leave Harry’s side, walking over to the coffee station to get what you came for before recess was over. He joins you shortly after, grabbing a disposable cup. “They were a nice bunch.” He mutters, pouring the steaming coffee into his cup. You hum in agreement.

“Everyone here is nice. The lounge is usually much more crowded than this. Everyone else must be in their rooms,” you flick your wrist up to check the time. “We got some time to sit down and breathe for a bit if you’d like? Unless you wanted to get back to your room.”

“‘M in no rush, trust me,” he tells you, flashing you a small smile. “Let’s take a seat.” Harry walks over to an unoccupied couch and sits down slowly, taking care not to spill his coffee. 

“You didn’t want a lid?” you question when you see him struggling. He shrugs.

“Not necessary. Jus’ some extra plastic,” you hum and look down at your lap. You were quickly learning that Harry was not a big talker, and he liked to get his point across in as few words as possible. Him being a Kindergarten teacher contradicted heavily with his rather bashful demeanor, but that just made him all the more endearing to you.

“Do you live nearby, or is your commute long?” you ask him after a few moments of silence. As soon as you ask the question, you internally cringe, feeling like it was too invasive. If Harry thought the question was weird, he doesn’t show it.

“I live in town. I actually walked here today, believe it or not,” he tells you with a chuckle. “Was such a beautiful morning that I figured I should.” Every time you think Harry can’t possibly get any more captivating, he does, and you find yourself biting back a smile.

“How long is your walk?” You cross your legs and then uncross them, a nervous habit that you had. Harry takes a sip of coffee, mulling your question over.

“I’d say it took me about twenty minutes. I was walkin’ at a pretty leisurely pace, though,” Harry shrugs. “How about you? Do you live nearby?”

“I also live in town, but I’m way too lazy to walk, so props to you,” you smile. “The best thing about living around here is seeing your kids out in public. It’s the cutest thing.” Harry smiles, not saying anything else. A silence falls over the two of you again but instead of feeling the need to fill it, you just sit beside him, drinking your coffee. Your mind wanders off to what you were going to do for the rest of the school day, if you had enough groceries in your apartment for dinner or if you should go grocery shopping after work, and if you remembered to pay your bills on time. The bell rings to signify the end of recess, and you jump slightly.

“Ready to go back?” Harry asks, standing up and walking back over to the coffee station. “Think’m gonna get a bit more.” You go to stand by the door, waiting for him to pour another cup of coffee. He quickly rejoins you, and the coffee sloshes a bit, some getting on his hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Hope those lil’ buggers got some of their energy out.”

“Right! Mine was even more hyper than they probably would’ve been ’cause I gave them those donuts this morning,” you laugh. “So, for my sake, I hope so too.” When you and Harry arrive back at the Kindergarten play area, your classes are already lined up quietly awaiting instruction, thanks to the yard teachers. You and Harry both thank them and move to stand in front of your kids. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” one of your children calls out from the back of the line. “Can we get more donuts when we go back inside?” You see Harry smile out of the corner of your eye as he’s giving instruction to his class.

“There are no more donuts, you guys ate them all! I have something even cooler than donuts planned for us, though, okay? Now, remember what I told you all about walking quietly, right? Mr. Line Leader, how does your line look? Do you think we’re all set to go back inside?” The child you appointed line leader turns around to look at everyone, occasionally shushing some people. After a few moments, he turns back to you, giving you a thumbs up. 

Harry moves to stand beside you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Wanna eat lunch together and do some planning? I feel like it would be a good idea for us to be teachin’ the same things, more or less.” Your body feels warm all over, and you just look at him and nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Harry smiles and places a hand on your shoulder. At a normal volume, he says, “See you then, Miss Y/L/N.” 

Upon entering Harry’s room, you’re immediately met with the scent of vanilla and the loud hum of the air conditioning. It was bright, adorably decorated, and surprisingly decluttered. It was the polar opposite of your room, and you found it very welcoming and comforting. “Nice set-up you’ve got going on in here,” you tell him. He jumps in his seat at his desk, not having heard you come in.

“Fucks sake,” he mumbles, face going red. “You scared me. Thanks, though. My sister helped me decorate, I don’t really have an eye for this type of stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. 

“Well, if you ever need any help decorating for back to school and your sister isn’t around, I’d be more than happy to help.” Harry smiles and suddenly gets up from his chair, offering it to you.

“Please, take my seat. I’ll just sit in one of the kids’ chairs,” he rolls it towards you, and you shake your head, about to object, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N. Their chairs aren’t that bad.” You take the seat Harry was just in, mumbling a quiet thank you. He hums and pulls a tiny chair up beside you, legs scraping loudly across the floor. When he sits down in it, you can’t but burst out laughing.

“Harry, that chair is so tiny! Are you sure you don’t want me to sit there instead? You look so uncomfortable,” you tell him in between laughs. “This is your classroom, after all, I’m just a guest.” Harry shakes his head, cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. ‘M perfectly comfortable in this lil’ miniature chair,” he looks at the lunch bag you sat on his desk. “What’s for lunch?” You reach for your sack and unzip it, pulling out a pre-packaged salad from Trader Joe’s.

“I’m very lazy when it comes to packing my lunches,” you admit sheepishly, pulling out a fork. “How about you? Did you eat already?”

“Oh yeah, I had a green smoothie. Not a big lunch guy,” he replies calmly. “Wanna get started with planning? I think we only have about thirty minutes left.” He looks down at his watch to confirm the time. Harry opens his planner, and you see pages filled with his neat, blocky scrawl. He jumps right into talking about the ideas he had in mind, excitement filling his voice that you haven’t yet heard. 

The passion and enthusiasm he has for teaching are evident through the way he tells you about the activities he has planned, new materials and teaching methods he wants to try implementing, and things he’s tried before that didn’t work out the way he wanted them to. He asks you for your advice and listens intently when you speak, jotting down notes.

You find yourself having to mentally remind yourself not to stare at him. He was a handsome man– there was no denying that. He had curly brown hair, soft and wild-looking, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, and arms covered in tattoos. You also noticed he had the tiniest cross on his left hand. You wanted to ask him about it, but you figured that was a conversation for another time. 

“Y/N? Did you hear what I just said,” Harry asks, giving you a concerned look. “Are you alright? I think you just zoned out for a couple minutes or somethin’.” You nod quickly, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about something I have to do later. What did you just say?” You play off how you were just wholly drooling over your new coworker, feeling scrutinized under his piercing gaze.

“Jus’ got an email from the principal. Said we have a faculty meetin’ after school at three. Wanna go together?” He asks. You know Harry’s asking you to accompany him primarily because you’re the only person he really knows so far. However, it still makes you feel warm and special. “He said we’re gonna go over some planning for the Fall Festival. What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just the back-to-school festival. It’s adorable,” you explain. “It’s like a mini carnival that we have right here on the playground. Every year they have teachers host booths. It’s a great way to get to meet your kids’ parents and bond with the other faculty.” Harry nods, standing up from the tiny chair right as the bell signifying the end of lunch rings.

“That sounds lovely,” he chirps, smiling down at you. “We’re gonna have the best booth out of everyone Y/N, trust me.” He jokes, the corner of his eyes crinkling. This was the most Harry had talked since you met him that morning and you were enjoying witnessing him open up to you more and more with each conversation shared.

“It is,” you stand up as well, gathering your trash and empty lunch pail. “Thanks for having me, Harry. Next time we can meet in my room. I wouldn’t mind making this a daily thing.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you physically wince, figuring Harry had to think you were obsessed with him at this point. He looks down, the corners of his mouth upturned when he makes eye contact with you again.

“I’d like that, Y/N. I’ll actually start bringin’ a proper lunch, so you’re not the only one eating,” you smile. “I’ll meet you in your room after school?” You nod in confirmation, walking out the door in front of him. 

“See ya later.”

“Did everyone have a good day today?” You ask your class, walking backward to the dismissal gate. You’re met with a chorus of cheerful sounding ‘yeses,’ and you place your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “That makes me so happy, everyone! You’re all incredible little people, and I think we’re gonna have a fantastic year. What do you guys think?” The children chatter excitedly, glad to have made it through their first day of school and see their parents on the other side of the gate eagerly awaiting them, cell phones snapping pictures. 

Harry’s already at the gate, waiting for the bell to ring so he can dismiss his class. He’s walking down the line asking each of the children if they see who they’re supposed to go home with, crouching down to their height so they can point them out to him. Some children in his class look a little upset because they don’t see their parents yet. Harry quickly consoles them, telling them they can all play a fun game together while they wait for their ‘Mummies and Daddies.’

You do the same with your kids, and by the time the bell rings and you finish dismissing the ones who saw someone there to pick them up, there was one child from your class who was still waiting and two from Harry’s. He walks over to you, one of their tiny hands in each of his. The boy looks unbothered, but the girl was beginning to cry.

“Hey, Ava, should we ask Miss Y/L/N and her friend if they want to play iSpy with us? The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?” He looks down at her, and she nods, looking down. You figure she’s one of his more shy students he was telling you about earlier.

“Hi, sweetie! I’m Miss Y/L/N, are you waiting for your mom or dad?” She nods, biting her lip. You turn and gesture to your one student who was waiting as well. “Well, so is she! Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”

“I’m Matthew,” the little boy holding Harry’s other hand informs you, shifting from foot to foot. You give him a big smile.

“Hello, Matthew! I love your Spiderman shirt; he’s just the coolest. Jade, do you want to introduce yourself to Mr. Styles, Ava, and Matthew? Remember when we learned about introductions today in class? When you got to introduce yourself to all your classmates?”

Jade nods, a big, toothy grin on her face. “Hi! My name is Jade, and I am five-years-old but my birthday is September 19th, so I’m actually almost six-years-old,” she tells them matter-of-factly. “It’s very nice to meet you!” She adds, remembering the script you gave them earlier. Harry looks down at her, an impressed look on his face.

“Well, it is very lovely to meet you too, Jade! Do we all know how to play iSpy?” Jade and Matthew shout in excitement, but Ava just grips tighter onto Harry’s hand. He looks down at her again. “Do y’ want Miss Y/L/N and I to show you how to play, Ava?” His voice is very quiet, slow, and soothing. She nods, letting go of his hand.

“Well Ava,” you say, looking around for something to start the game out with. “I would say, “I spy with my little eye something green. Then you, Mr. Styles, Matthew, and Jade, would have to look around and name out everything that’s green. If you name something and it’s not it, then I will tell you nope, and you can try again, but if you figure it out, then you’re the winner! Does that make sense?”

She nods, and you see a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Can I go first?” She asks quietly. You tell her, yes, and she looks around quickly, trying to find something to say. “I spy with my little eye something blue!” She has a triumphant smile on her face, and even though you immediately know she’s talking about the sky and you’re sure Harry does too, you both decide to take a step back and let the children take the game into their own hands.

“Y’know, that lil’ introduction Jade gave was really somethin’. I didn’t even think about teachin’ my kids that. Think I’ll try that out tomorrow,” Harry whispers, craning his neck slightly to be at your ear. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. 

“Yeah, I feel like that’s always a good first day of school activity for them to do. A lot of them have never really been exposed to people outside of their immediate family, so they’re not too sure how to talk to others.” Harry hums, standing back up straight.

“Mr. Styles,” Matthew calls, running over to Harry. “My mommy is here. Can I go now?” Harry nods, telling Matthew to wait for him so he can say hi to his mother. You watch as he walks away, overhearing as he tells the boy’s mother what a great job he did today and how he’s so excited to go through this school year with him in his class. Ten minutes later, Jade and Ava are gone as well, and Harry locks the dismissal gate. 

“I forgot how exhausting the first day could be,” he tells you, letting out a quiet sigh. “Ready to go to that meeting, though? It’s just about three.” You check your watch and see the time read at 2:57 PM.

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag, and we can head over there. I’m really hoping this won’t take too long; I was planning on going grocery shopping after this,” you walk down the hall towards your classroom and feel Harry’s gaze on you.

“Where do you like to go grocery shopping?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “I need to pick up some groceries this week, too. ’ve been eatin’ takeout for the past week, and I’m starting to feel like shit.” You laugh, unlocking your door. Harry stands outside, holding it open while you grab your purse and lunch bag.

“Honestly, I don’t have a preference. I switch it up a lot,” you shrug, making sure all the windows are closed before walking out. “Was there something, in particular, you were looking for?”

“Uh,” Harry scratches the back of his head. “No? Maybe you could text me a list of all your favorite stores, though. Jus’ so I won’t forget.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring how fast your heart was beating. “Are you asking for my number, Mr. Styles?”

“I guess I am,” he replies nonchalantly. “We’re gonna be workin’ together a lot. Might as well have your number– if that’s okay, I mean.” He looks down at you.

“Yeah, remind me after the meeting,” you tell him, trying your hardest to play it cool. “Don’t let me forget.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“So Y/N and Harry, you two will be in charge of the pumpkin decorating booth? Is that right?” The principal looks down at his notes and then shifts his gaze between the both of you. You both nod.

“Yeah, I’m excited! I think it’ll be a lot of fun,” you reply excitedly. “We can go to the craft store and get a bunch of paints, but where do you think the best place to get the pumpkins would be?” You pull out your planner, ready to jot down any suggestions.

“You two could try going to a pumpkin patch? They’re starting to pop-up around town,” one teacher suggests. “I’m sure if you purchased a bunch and told them it was for a school event, we could get some kind of deal.” The rest of the faculty buzzes in agreement.

“Y/N and Harry, could you get to a pumpkin patch sometimes this week and see if they can give us an estimate of how much it would cost? Then I could let the PTA know.” You and Harry confirm that it will be possible to do sometime this week, and the meeting continues on.

By the time you’re finally free to leave the meeting, it’s already growing dark outside. Harry’s hands are shoved in his pockets, and he’s looking down at his feet. “So–”

“Do you want–”

You both stop, laughing awkwardly. “You go first.” you tighten the grip on your purse.

“Uh, I was jus’ gonna ask if I could get your number now. Yanno, so we can plan when we’re gonna go get all the stuff for our booth? And you still gotta tell me what your favorite grocery stores are,” he has a playful look in his eyes. For the thousandth time that day, your hands become clammy. There was just something about every interaction you had with him that made you so nervous. 

“Oh yeah,” you answer coolly, digging in your purse for your phone. “Just text your number, so I have it.” You hand him his phone, and he stops dead in his tracks, a look of concentration on his face. 

“I can’t walk and be on the phone at the same time,” he mutters when he looks back up and realizes you were watching him the whole time. “I don’t know how people do it.” He hands you back your phone. “What were y’ gonna ask me?”

“I was just um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to give you a ride home? I mean, since you walked to work today and it’ll be dark soon,” talking to Harry made you feel like a nervous school girl interacting with her first crush, and you hated that feeling.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“It’s no bother, really,” you cut him off, and you realize you sound a little eager, but at that point, you didn’t even care. “I’m sure we don’t live too far from each other.” Harry looks slightly unsure but nods, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“If you’re sure, Y/N. I appreciate it, I owe you one,” he’s following behind you to the teacher parking lot. You silently pray your car isn’t messy inside like it usually is as you approach it. You decide to pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, telling yourself if the passenger side was messy, you’d just quickly throw everything in the back. “Heyyyy, why’re you walkin’ so fast? Are you sure you’ve got the time to take me home?” He takes a few big strides and quickly catches up with your hurried, tiny ones.

“Yeah, of course, I have time,” you respond, unlocking your car as you approach it. “If it’s messy, then just ignore it.” you preface, honestly not remembering the state in which you left your car this morning when you walked into work.

“Don’t worry about it. You should see mine,” Harry jokes, and it immediately puts you at ease. As you’re about to open your door, Harry quickly rushes to your side, opening it himself. “Let me.” 

His hand rests over yours, and you quickly pull it away, your body heating up. “Harry, I’m already right here. I can open my own car door.” 

“I know you can. But I’m a gentle—“ 

“You’re a gentleman, I know,” you playfully roll your eyes and take a step back, allowing Harry to open your car door all the way. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t flattered and honestly a little bit turned on. He flashes you a smile as you situate yourself behind the wheel of the car and makes sure you’re all the way in before slamming it shut. You see him lightly jog around to the passenger side, and soon enough, he’s beside you, your car immediately starting to smell like his cologne. 

“What music do you like to listen to?” Harry asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

“You ask me a lot of random questions, Harry,” you reply, looking behind you as you slowly back out. 

“Is it a crime to wanna get to know my new coworker?” you can hear a smile in his voice. “C’mon. What’s your favorite music to listen to?” 

You shrug, looking both ways before exiting the parking lot. “Where do you live?” 

“I don’t know my address yet. Just take a left at this light coming up. Favorite music?” Out of the corner of his eye, you see him scrolling through his music library. 

“You don’t know your address yet?” 

“No. I’ll play something random,” he says, tapping his hand on his knee. “You can take a right at that stop sign up there.” You put on your blinker and glance over your shoulder before switching lanes. Harry quickly pairs his phone with your Bluetooth, and a song you’re unfamiliar with blares through your speakers. Neither one of you says anything else, only speaking to each other when he’s giving you directions to his house, and you’re confirming what he said.

After two more songs, Harry says, “S’right up here.” He’s led you to a beautiful apartment complex— one you were looking at when you were moving out of your parent’s home but just couldn’t afford as a new graduate. You expertly parallel park and then turn the car off, a silence falling between the two of you.

“This is a nice complex,” you tell him after a moment. “Really close to school. I see why you opted to walk to work today.” 

“Mhm,” he hums. His seatbelt is still fastened. “I understand if you’re busy, but did you wanna come in?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he quickly backtracks. “I mean— it’s just— remember the activity you taught your kids today? About introductions? Jus’ wanted to know if you could walk me through it, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Well yeah, I can hang out for a bit.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach in the backseat for your purse that you threw haphazardly over your shoulder earlier. 

“Will your boyfriend be okay with you coming in, though?” He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” You’re slightly taken aback and oddly flattered that he thought you were in a relationship.

“I dunno,” his face grows red. “You got all weird when I opened doors for ya. Figured you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Cool.” More silence falls, this time an awkward one.

“Should we go inside now?” you unlock the doors, quickly getting out of the car. Harry follows behind you and waits for you to walk onto the sidewalk before going up the walkway.

“How close do you live to me?” Harry asks, punching in his gate code. He pulls the gate open and gestures for you to go ahead of him. You decide not to comment on it this time.

“A couple blocks away. I could probably walk over here if I was in the mood to,” Harry shuts the gate behind you and walks over to the first set of stairs, taking them two at a time. “I was interested in this complex when I was moving out of my parents’ but I settled on something else.” He hums, stopping in front of the first door at the top of the stairs. There’s a brown ‘Welcome!’ mat outside his door, along with a few potted plants.

“Here we are,” he looks over his shoulder as if he’s checking if you’re still there. “Excuse the boxes. ‘M not done unpacking yet.” He pushes open the door and steps in, quickly turning on the light. You’re met with the same sweet scent of vanilla that’s in his classroom. Considering he was in the process of unpacking, his apartment was reasonably tidy.

“It looks good in here,” your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You were in your coworker’s house that you just met that day, and you could already feel yourself developing a crush on him. There was obviously no way you’d let this relationship progress past anything strictly professional, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to admire his beauty.

“Thanks,” he gives you a smile, relief washing over his face. “You can set your bag down if you want. Take a seat, make yourself at home.” He leaves the room, and you hear him rattling around in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink? Wine? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee sounds great,” you reply. You set your purse down on his coffee table and sit on the edge of his couch, inspecting his living room closer. There were two books on the table, both flipped upside down as a way to mark his page. There were a few more plants inside, similar to the ones in front of his door. There was a framed picture of him with two beautiful women you assumed to be his mother and sister. Harry comes back into the room a few minutes later, two steaming cups of black coffee in hand.

“Here you are, Miss Y/L/N,” he puts on an exaggerated posh accent, and you giggle.

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles,” you respond in the same voice. “Do you have cream and sugar?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I think I might have sugar. Is oat milk, okay? I don’t have cream.” He goes back to his kitchen to retrieve the items before you can tell him it’s okay, and you’ll just drink it black. You thank him, pouring the tiniest splash of oat milk into your coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you add a bit of sugar, stir, taste, and then add some more.

“So,” you begin after your coffee is made to your liking. “What did you think about your first day? You can be honest since we’re not on campus anymore.” Harry laughs, looking down at his fingernails.

“Uh,” he starts. You notice he says, ‘uh’ a lot. “It was terrific. Not so sure I would’ve felt the same way if I didn’t have you to help me through it.” 

“We’re partners in crime now, Harry. We’re the two Kindergarten teachers, and you’re the only other person there my age? We’ve definitely gotta stick together,” you give him a big smile. He doesn’t smile back but looks a bit troubled instead. You wait for him to speak, coming to accept that long pauses were just a thing when having a conversation with Harry.

“Y’know how I assumed you had a boyfriend earlier? I thought after I’d said that–– rather I hoped after I said that you’d be like,” he clears his throat. “‘Why, no! I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?’” He put on the worst American accent you’d ever heard to imitate your voice, causing you to laugh. “To which I would’ve replied with a simple ‘no.’” 

Now it’s your turn to leave Harry wondering what you’re thinking for the first time all day. You can feel his eyes on you as you look at his couch cushions, noticing a bit of crumbs that you hadn’t seen before. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me. We just met today.”

“Does that mean I can’t think you’re beautiful?”

You bite your lip, feeling yourself starting to grow a bit turned on by his forwardness. There was a part of you that would risk it all for just one night in bed with Harry because you just found him that attractive. The rational, adult side of you was screaming, ‘Don’t mix business with pleasure!’. By now, you had both moved closer on the couch to one another, knees nearly touching. “I think you’re beautiful, too.” He grins, setting his coffee cup down. You do the same.

“Would it be crazy of me to tell you that I really wanna kiss you right now?” His face is mere inches from yours, so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath. You shake your head.

“No. I really wanna kiss you too.”

“C’ mere, then.” 

Harry leans forward a bit more until his lips are ghosting over yours. You pull at the collar of his shirt, bringing his already close body even closer to yours. His lips are softer than they look, and he’s a better kisser than you thought he’d be, too. He brings his hands up to tangle them in your hair, and that’s when you abruptly pull away, not wanting things to go too far. “We shouldn’t…” He looks at you with sad eyes, but he nods, understanding what you mean.

“Probably not the best idea?” his response comes out as more of a question than a statement, but you nod in agreement anyway.

“Definitely not. I’m um–– I’m actually gonna go,” you stand up, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see––”

You’re out the door, rushing down the stairs before he can even finish his sentence.

The rest of the school week goes on without either one of you mentioning it. It’s a little awkward for a couple of days, but by the time Friday rolls around, both of you decide the best course of action to take regarding the kiss would be to act like it never happened. 

You’re in your room at lunch hanging up your kids’ artwork they made during their ‘Free Time’ this morning, having declined Harry’s lunch invitation for the fourth time that week. You decided to pretend to be busy with work so you wouldn’t be too tempted to go into his room. To most people, you’re sure it looked like you were avoiding him–– and maybe you were. However, you were trying to get over this crush on him in the best way that you knew how.

“Need some help?”

You jump, nearly falling backward off the stepstool you were on. “Holy shit, Harry! You scared the hell out of me!” You feel your body getting warm, and you quickly look away, not wanting him to see how flustered you were.

“Sorry, you weren’t answering my texts, so I decided to come see what you were up to,” he walks over to where you were standing and hands you a piece of art, smiling at it before handing it to you. “You’ve got some artists in your class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking him in the eyes. You hear him let out a quiet sigh.

“Still able to go see about getting those pumpkins ordered after work?”

You had completely forgotten that you and Harry decided today would be the day you’d go get the pumpkin situated figured out for your booth. For a second, you consider making an excuse to get out of it, but you decide against it. This was something that both of you were asked to do, not just him, and you didn’t want the fact that you let your attraction to him cloud your judgment getting in the way of your professional responsibilities.

“Yeah, that works.”

He doesn’t say anything, and even though you’re not looking at him, you can see the gears in his head turning. “Should we talk––” 

You’re quite literally saved by the bell, the end of lunch interrupting where you knew he was about to lead the conversation. “I’ll see you after school? Did you walk here again? I can drive.” Harry nods slowly.

“Uh, yeah. he replies. “I walked. Uh, ’m gonna go get my kids. See you after school then?”

“Yup!” you respond, fake enthusiasm in your voice. Harry gives you one more look before walking out of your room. You wait until he’s all the way down the hall before following behind him to bring your class back inside. You knew you were the one making things awkward between you and Harry. However, the realistic part of you knew getting involved with your coworker was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had in your life. For now, you’d just tell yourself that you were probably more into Harry than he was into you and pray that would be enough to make you get over your crush.

“I haven’t been to a pumpkin patch since I was a kid.” Harry stuffs his hands farther into his pockets while yours are tightly hugging your chest. You hum, not saying anything. The car ride there was a little awkward, and you were glad it was so short. You could tell there was a lot Harry wanted to say, but you were glad he wasn’t saying it. You keep seeing him glance at you, but you pretend not to notice.

“What size pumpkins should we ask for? Small ones, huh?” Harry nods, looking around in childlike awe. There was a small petting zoo, booths selling warm drinks and kettle corn, and an obscene amount of children.

You walk around together for a moment before encountering a friendly-looking employee who looked like he could help you out. Harry takes over, explaining the situation, and why you need to order one hundred tiny pumpkins. While you’re waiting for the employee to ask the owner if that would even be possible, Harry turns to face you.

“Y/N? Can we talk about what happened on Monday?” you’re about to tell him that you’d rather not, but he continues. “I felt something during that kiss, Y/N. I’m not sure if you felt it too, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. We have to get through an entire school year working side-by-side, and if you’re not interested, then I respect that one hundred percent, but I just want––”

“So the owner said that is possible!” The employee that was helping you out comes back with a form and clipboard in their hand. “Can you just fill out some information and let us know what time you need it tomorrow? The owner said he could get it delivered and give you guys a discount since you’re ordering so much.”

“That’s great!” you exclaim, taking the form from him. You were glad to have been saved from your conversation with Harry. You quickly go through and fill out everything you can, telling them they can bill your school’s PTA. 

The walk back to your car is silent. You’re replaying what Harry was saying to you over in your head, thinking about what he was going to say before he was interrupted. He opens your car door like he’s been doing, but he doesn’t make eye contact with you or say a word as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Y’can just drop me off,” Harry says quietly. He leans your seat back and closes his eyes. You wait to see if he’ll connect his phone, but he doesn’t, so you turn on the radio at a volume so low it almost can’t be heard. It takes everything in you not to speed back to his place. You just wanted him out of your car. You had such strong feelings for him that it physically hurt, and restraining yourself from telling him how you really felt was growing harder and harder.

“We’re here.” your voice is a little hoarse from not saying anything. Harry slowly opens his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt, opening the door.

“Right. Thanks for the ride. What time do we need to be at school to set up our booth by?”

“Four. I can pick you up if you want?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He closes the door and walks up to his gate without looking back at you once.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N! Hi Mr. Styles!”

Groups of your students had been coming up to you excitedly all evening. It made you happy to see that the Kindergarten classes were no longer divided. They were starting to hang out with one another. Their parents tell you how their children thought it was just the coolest thing to be on school grounds on a Saturday, and how even though it was only a week into the school year, they were having the best time. It was comments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again.

Things between you and Harry were going well. It wasn’t awkward, but you think it was because you were both too busy helping children paint their pumpkins. You were glad that Harry didn’t take the bit of downtime the two of you had when no one was at your booth trying to talk about the kiss and instead talked about other random things instead. You find out he loves baking (specifically, bread), he has an obsession with old music, and has about fifty tattoos. He talks to his mom on the phone every day, and he is extremely close to his sister. You tell him about your parents’, your undergraduate experience, your hobbies, and you finally tell him what music you like to listen to.

The festival quickly comes to an end, and you find yourself sad once you and Harry are done cleaning up your booth, knowing that you were just going to drop him off at his apartment and go back to yours to spend another Saturday night alone. You get to his complex almost too quickly, and you almost want to keep going and pretend you accidentally missed it just to be with him a bit longer. Instead, you park.

“D’ya wanna come inside?” He blurts out. Even in the darkness of your car, you can tell his face is flushed. “I mean if you haven’t got plans. I know it’s a Saturday night, so I understand if––”

“Nope, I don’t have plans. I’d love to.” Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle your seatbelt. He quickly gets out of your car and runs around to your side, opening the door for you before you can do it yourself. You almost don’t even notice since it was becoming such a habit.

“I picked up this new bottle of wine a couple days ago that’ve been wanting to pop open. Think we deserve a glass or two after such a long week, hmm?” You wordlessly nod, wholly mesmerized with just how good Harry looked after such a long day of work. His curls fell perfectly across his forehead, his eyes were sparkling and full of excitement. 

“A glass of wine sounds great,” you reply with a chuckle. “I’m ready to drink a whole bottle by the end of the week if I’m being honest.” Harry laughs, quickly punching in his gate code. You could see his hands shaking a little bit, but you decide not to comment on it. He takes the stairs up to his apartment two at a time like he did last time you were there, but this time there’s an urgency and clumsiness to his actions that you haven’t seen before. He jams the key in his lock, quickly shoving the door open.

His apartment is a little messier than it was when you were in it at the beginning of the week, but it’s nothing disgusting. He runs his fingers through his curls, moving aside papers that were scattered along the length of the couch. “Sorry, I was doin’ some planning. Make yourself comfortable.” He disappears to the kitchen, and moments later, you hear the pop of a wine cork and the smooth sound of him pouring the alcohol into glasses.

He emerges from his kitchen, handing you a generously poured glass of wine. “Thanks, Harry,” you tell him before taking a big sip. It was sweet, and while you usually preferred a more dry wine, it was still delicious. 

“Cheers to the end of a successful first week,” he holds up his glass, and you smile, clinking yours with his. “Thanks for helpin’ me get through it, Y/N. Couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a timid smile.

“Stop, Harry. You’re a great teacher. I can see your kids love you already,” you take another sip of wine. “I kinda do too. I mean–– that came out wrong. I don’t love you, but I do think I like you.” You didn’t know what came over you at that moment, but something told you now was the time to lay it all out on the table with Harry. He sets his glass of wine down, the biggest smile on his face.

“Really? I thought you weren’t interested. Was kinda startin’ to feel like you hate me,” he sounds a little sad. You shake your head.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m really into you,” you didn’t even realize how you’d inched your way towards Harry. “I’ve been trying not to think about how we kissed because we shouldn’t, you know? We’re coworkers. I’ve been trying not to think about it all week, though, and I just can’t get you out of my mind.” He stares intensely into your eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he usually does when he’s thinking.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he finally asks. You’re in the same position as you were last time, being mere inches away from the other’s lips. Only this time, you smell the wine on his breath, not coffee. You nod quickly, and Harry cups your face in his hands, hungrily pressing his lips against yours.

“You can do more than kiss me, actually,” you tell him breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, a shocked look on his face. “When you say anything…” he trails off.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you tell him bluntly. “Please. Been wanting that all week.” He licks his lips, looking at you in a way he hasn’t yet before. 

“I can definitely do that,” he replies, resting his hand on your thigh. His large hand is dangerously close to your pussy, and you can already feel yourself growing wet. “Let’s get all these clothes off you then, huh?” 

You stand up and quickly start removing your clothes. First, your blouse comes off, and that’s quickly followed by your bra. Harry’s leaning back on the couch, arms resting behind his head. “Enjoying the show?” you ask, quickly pulling down your jeans and underwear. You’re completely naked in front of him in thirty seconds flat, and you reckon that’s the fastest you’ve ever undressed for anything. 

“Very much so,” he mumbles, palming himself over his khakis. “C’ mere, Y/N.” he pats his lap, and you move to sit in it, now straddling him. He softly presses his lips against yours, the hunger that was there just a moment ago completely dissipated. This was a much more hesitant kiss, more gentle and tender. “You’re really beautiful, Y/N.”

You giggle. “I know. You’ve told me that before.”

“I want you to know how much I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

Harry nods. “Can I have a taste of ya now?” you notice that his accent sounds a bit thicker than usual, voice a tad gruffer. You nod, swallowing thickly. Climbing off Harry, you lay back on the couch, situating yourself, so it’s a little more comfortable. He looks into your eyes, placing his hands on your knees. “Is this okay, Y/N?” You nod again, and he removes his hands.

“What’s wrong?” your voice has a hint of desperation in it, but after a week of extreme sexual tension, you wanted nothing more than to cum by the hands of this man.

“Wanna hear you tell me it’s okay. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want,” he’s looking down at his hands.

“Harry, I wouldn’t have given you a striptease and laid back on this couch for you if I didn’t want it. I wholeheartedly give you permission to do whatever you want with me––”

That’s enough for him. He roughly pries your legs open, immediately licking a long stripe up your heat. You cry out, not expecting him to get right into it. You look down at him and groan when you see he’s making eye contact with you, a smug look on his face. “How’s tha’, love?” You nod, tangling your hands in his curls.

“Yeah Harry, please,” you moan. Harry sucks harshly at your clit, pulling off loudly, the sound echoing throughout his minimally furnished apartment.

“Please what, pet?” He’s looking you dead in the eyes, a devilish grin on his face while his index finger rubs small circles on your clit. Your chest is heaving up and down quickly as you try to calm your breathing down.

“Please make me cum on your tongue, Harry,” you try pushing his head back down to your cunt, but he doesn’t budge.

“Think I rather like hearin’ you beg like this fo’ me. Enjoyin’ watching you squirm like tha’, love.” Just as your about to beg for him some more to feed his inflated ego, he attaches his lips to your clit once more, this time adding his ring finger into your tight pussy. “You’re tight. Sure you’ll be able to take my cock?” His voice is muffled, and you just barely make out what he says.

You clench around his finger, and he laughs, the vibrations sending a new sensation across your clit. “Y’like thinkin’ about my cock, hmm?”

“Yeah, want you in me,” you beg, lifting your hips up. He grips onto your hips tightly, keeping you in place.

“Can feel yeh gettin’ ready for me, darlin’. Think you can take another one?” You nod, and Harry gently places kitten licks on your swollen clit while he slowly pushes his middle finger into you. You feel full in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time, and he only had two fingers in you. Once he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times, he goes back to harshly sucking on his clit, moaning every so often so you can feel the vibrations against your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning loudly, and you pray Harry’s neighbors don’t hear you, knowing how thin apartment walls were.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, doll,” he mutters, adding another finger inside you. The burn feels amazing, and you place your hand on his wrist, urging him to go faster. “Gonna cum in my mouth, hmm? Gonna let me feel ya around m’ fingers?”

“Yes, please, Harry,” you feel yourself nearly there, your orgasm threatening to overtake you at any moment. 

“Give it to me then, Y/N. Cum for me,” he demands. As soon as he says those three words, you’re done for, your body going tense as waves of pleasure roll throughout your body. He doesn’t remove his digits from the your cunt until you’re coming down from your high, placing a kiss to your clit. He laughs as you shudder at the overstimulation. Harry places his three fingers that were just inside of you and his mouth and sucks on them, not once breaking eye contact with you. 

“That was really good,” you tell him, crawling on your knees towards him to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw—Harry’s beaming, a triumphant look on his face.

“Not yet. Gotta make y’ cum one more time. I’m a gentleman, after all.” You know he’s messing with you but also serious, so you lean back on the couch, opening your legs once again.

“Are you gonna take off your clothes too? Why am I the only one that’s naked?” Harry laughs, and you hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it. 

“You’re impatient, aren’t ya?” you nod, and he pulls down his tenting khakis and tight boxers. His cock springs up, slightly touching his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. “Hold on a sec.” He gets up quickly, and you hear him hurry to what you assume in the bathroom, rummaging around. He comes back a minute later with a box of condoms, making you laugh.

“Is that a new box of condoms? Have you been holding onto those all week, Mr. Styles?” Harry rolls his eyes and opens the box, ripping open a condom expertly with his teeth.

“Weren’t you just the one beggin’ for me, pet? I’d watch it if I were you,” he jokes, rolling the condom onto his hard length. He leans down to place wet, opened mouth kisses to your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Are you gonna take off your shirt?” you ask quietly. “I kinda wanna see all your tattoos.” Harry raises an eyebrow at you but unbuttons his shirt nevertheless, throwing it into the mess of clothes scattered around the living room. You reach your hand up, shakily tracing the swallows on his chest, moving down to the butterfly across his stomach and finally to the ferns on his abdomen. Harry’s staring down at you, watching as you delicately touch his skin. “You have so many.” you finally say. He nods.

“Yeah. Some of them I just got for the hell of it. Felt like after I got that first tattoo, it was hard to stop.” He caresses the skin on your thighs, and you shudder again. “Gonna let me get inside that pretty lil’ cunt now?”

“Please.”

Harry aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, sharply inhaling as you clench around his length. “Relax, Y/N.’ve got ya,” he tells you reassuringly. “Can’t get inside ya if you’re all tense like tha’.” You can tell Harry’s trying his hardest not to absolutely wreck you, the vein in his forehead very prominent from clenching his jaw so tightly. You grip tightly onto his bicep, biting your lip as you adjust to his size. You were so wet and indescribably turned on that you felt every vein his thick cock had to offer, and you knew you wouldn’t last long once he started moving. By the looks of it, Harry wouldn’t either.

“You can move,” you tell him, squeezing your eyes shut. Harry slowly pulls out of you and then ever so gently sinks back inside you, bottoming out. He lets out a breathy moan, moving one of his hands up to tweak your nipples. “Harder, Harry, fuck.” 

He immediately pulls out of you and slams back inside, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. You scream in pleasure, no longer caring if his neighbors hear what you two were doing. 

“Like tha’?” He asks cheekily, working up a steady rhythm. You nod, gripping your boobs to keep them from bouncing. Harry shakes his head, forcefully removing your hands. “Nope, none of that. Wanna see ’em.” He takes both of your hands in one of his, pinning them up over your head. His other hand reaches in between your bodies to rub at your clit, and before you have time to warn him, you’re cumming again, squirting all over his cock. 

Harry throws his head back in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppy and frantic, and you know he’s seconds away from his own orgasm. You spur him on, telling him how badly you wanted him to come inside of you (even though he was wearing a condom). He stills moments later, shaking above you as he holds himself up with an arm, not wanting to collapse on top of you.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. Why did we wait a whole week to do this again?”

[spideyspeaches]

Gorgeous ↬ b.b

A/N: Props to @thefallenbibliophilequote​ for getting me into bucky XD (fic lowkey based on Taylor Swift’s Gorgeous.)

Warnings: smut :) very smut and nudity.

MINORS DNI

WC: 2.5k+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Parker & Reader (Platonic)

Masterlist || Taglist 

“Do you think he has a girlfriend?” You asked, sipping at the fairly bitter beer in your hand. Looking over your shoulder, you sighed, slumping on the counter of the bar you were in.  

You had been dragged along with your neighbour- Peter Parker, also known as the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, to a club right after an Avengers mission. You were no avenger, just a run in the mill overworked and underpaid preschool teacher. 

It had become customary for you to tag along with him to bars with the other Avengers, after you had discovered about his spidery abilities. You had always been close to him, he was your brother in everything but blood. You were after all, his bonafide babysitter/best friend. 

The others in his team had accepted you with open arms, a weird bond forming between you and them, accepting you as more than "Peter's hot neighbour" and more like a part of their team. 

One particular person seemed to have caught your eye. 

Cranking your neck to see his slumped figure, you smirked at his back, eyes tracing his broad shoulders and newly buzz cut hair. You hadn’t talked to him much, but from when you had, you found him to be very sweet. He was shy, rarely spoke and always in his own shell, cheeks rosy pink whenever you conversed. So different from what the media portrayed him as that you found it utterly confusing that such a man could be brainwashed and used as a murder machine. 

Your heart ached for him, for how misunderstood he was among the antis. You just wanted to hug the man and give him one big forehead smooch. But, oh were you brought back to reality with a hit that you couldn’t really do that without looking creepy.

"Who? Bucky?" Peter smirked, interrupting you from looking at him. Your willed your heart to stop racing and plummeting in your stomach. 

“I thought his name was James?” You said, tilting your head in confusion. From what you had read in a source, his name was James Buchanan Barnes-

“Yeah but Steve calls him Bucky, so everyone does too.”

“Oh, Bucky. Has a nice ring to it.” You nodded, ignoring his smug expression, “answer my question though. I’m not gonna hit on him if he already has a girlfriend. Wouldn’t be surprised if he did.” You grumbled the next part, trying to ignore the flare of jealousy you felt in your chest.

Peter had made it very apparent to you that he was fully aware of your humongous crush on the winter soldier. And that little shit never let go of it, even when you weren't anywhere near the vicinity of said winter soldier. 

"Why do you think I would know?" He scoffed, going back to sipping his own bottle of beer. Scowling at him, you opened your mouth, inhaling sharply. 

"I don't know, cause you practically live there?" You shrugged, trying to feign indifference. You knew he looked right through it, if his shit eating grin and flushed cheeks were anything if not confirmation. 

"Bold of you to assume he even talks to me. And anyway, he hates my guts, him and Sam always prank me, it's practically a routine." He said, rolling his eyes, swirling his bottle lazily, "why do you want to know that anyway?" 

"You know why." You hissed. Turning around, your breath hitched when you saw him staring at You, wondering if he was just staring at your general direction and if you were going to embarrass yourself by waving at him. 

Apparently he was looking at you, because you swore saw a tiny wave coming at your direction, a small smile playing on his face. 

“And what if he did?”

“What is it to you, kiddo?”

"You both disgust me. Bucky with his constant questions about you and you with your constant questions about him" Peter muttered sarcastically. Ignoring him, you sighed dreaming, slumping on the barstool, "don't you already have a boyfriend anyway?" 

“And what about him?” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at the mention of him. He was hardly a boyfriend, more of a fling, an excuse to stop the pain of being single (you were dramatic, you knew). You were over him, broken up not long ago, but Peter didn’t need to know that. You wouldn’t want Peter siccing himself at your worst enemies.

“What I know is that he’s one son of a bitch who doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you. Why are you dating him again?” Peter said, snapping you out of your daze.

“Do you kiss your girlfriend’s pussy with that mouth?” You scowled, huffing pettily.

“I’m sorry, who’s girlfriend’s what?” Tony said, appearing out of thin air, his mouth hung as he gaped at you and Peter. You snickered at Peter’s flushed and stuttering form, counting that as one win tonight. 

“My girlfriend’s lips. Y/N’s stuttering cause she’s too busy staring at Bucky.” Peter said, fixing you with a look, his head tilted adorably, jaw clenched like the way it did when he was done with your bullshit.

“Hey I’m not staring at him! He’s just so gorgeous- look at him!” You giggled, watching him stumble from his stool, the alcohol in your veins making you braver than before. You had endured more than one round of teasing from the team about your very obvious crush on one Bucky Barnes, yet you went on with your babbling.

“Yeah yeah, you’ve said what what- oh a million times before!” Peter shrieked, hands up in the air, nearly dropping his bottle. Snatching his bottle, you drowned the remaining liquid, dropping it on the counter with a scow, “are you even old enough to drink?”

“Hey! Let me tell you, I’m turning twenty one in a week, or did you forget?” He said, ignoring Tony, who was shaking his head and grumbling something about being too old for this shit.

“Of course I didn’t forget kiddo.” You said, smiling sadly at him, ruffling his messy brown hair. Ever since you met him, you always loved playing with his hair. They were fluffy, just like your cat’s, “Who allowed you to grow up so fast?” 

“Y/n/n! I’m only four years younger than you!”

“Ugh don’t remind me.” It still iffed you to no end that the boy who was once nine years younger than you was now 4 years younger, nevermind that he was mature much beyond his age. Mind briefly averted from one Winter Soldier, you didn’t notice him sit down next to you, startled when he called for you. You didn’t even notice Peter giving you a look before Tony dragged him somewhere.

“Hey, you’re Y/n right? Peter’s-” He started, your brain short circuiting when you saw his piercing blue eyes- the most beautiful shade of blue you had ever seen, staring at you, a small smirk playing on his stubbled jaw. You gulped internally, clearing your throat and sitting straight.

“Neighbour? Yes that’s me.” You nodded enthusiastically, smiling as much as you could without cringing at your ecstatic behaviour. 

“I know.”

“Cool.” 

Shuffling in your seat, you opened your mouth to speak, only for him to speak before both of you were interrupted by your laughter. Getting yourself together, you gestured for him to talk, “go ahead.”

“So, should I buy you a drink?”

“Only if you let me buy you one.” 

And that’s how it started. One drink turned to another, and next thing you knew you were kissing him, his hands in your hair, the cold of his metal arm placed firmly on your bare waist as he bunched your t-shirt up in a fist.

For a moment you weren’t aware of your surroundings, the only thing you could feel was his t-shirt fisted in your hands, his freezing palm causing an eruption of goosebumps on your skin as the cold air of the room hit you full force. Panting, you scrambled for the door, holding his hands in the darkened room as you followed him blindly.

Crashing your lips to his once again, you moan under your breath, chest hitching as you scrambled for your shirt and bra, pulling it over your head as you watched him do the same, smirking at the very apparent bulge on his blue jeans. 

“Do you have a condom? You panted, tracing his biceps with your nails as you pulled him so that you were chest to chest, your nipples hardening as your bare chests made contact. You could feel your pussy throbbing, groaning at your already growing lady boner, the place between your thighs slick with wetness.

“In my pocket.” He answered, lifting you up as you wrapped your legs around him, throwing you on the bed with questionable stains. You moaned as he dropped his weight on you, his hands burning flames on your skin as he traced patterns on your bare arms, kissing you with a vigor. 

Your hands reached for his jeans pocket, fumbling to find the packet of condom while he traced his lips on your neck, nibbling at the curve of your shoulder, making you shudder with excitement.

“Are you sure you-”

“Yes. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“Whatever you say doll.” 

Your stomach coiled when he called you that, groaning in pleasure as he roughed you up with his hands, his jeans sliding off, leaving his bare thighs barely visible to your eye. His eyes were somehow still illuminated in the dark room, leaving you even more wet than before. You never knew his eyes could turn you on so much that he made you come even before he could slide inside you.

Thrusting your hips, you watched impatiently as he slid the condom on his hardened dick, asking you for permission once more before sliding into you, his hips thumping with yours as he gradually increased his pace, hitting your spot.

“You’re so beautiful, so pretty under me. Perfect little wet pussy you got there doll.” He whispered, closing his eyes as you continued to run your fingers through his hair, holding onto his back with one of your hands, nails digging into his flesh, unable to form any words.

“I’m close.” You moaned, rolling your hips with his as he continued to move, panting, one hand on the headboard and the other on your boobs, keeping you firmly planted on the shitty pub mattress as he kneaded the soft skin, the brush of his fingers on your pebbled nipple your last straw as you finally gave into your climax.

“You good?” He asked, his dick still inside you as you came all over him. Sliding out, you lay on the dirty sheets, your bare body shivering with the excessive hormones that took over you, realising that you had just fucked James Buchanan Barnes. 

“Yeah, I’m good, Great. Amazing. Wow I can’t believe this happened.” You said, holding the thin sheet up to your chest as you saw him in the dim lights. His chest was glistening with sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead as you saw him discard the condom in a bin. Biting your lip, you tried not to stare at his bare ass, clenching your thighs. 

He gave you a friendly smirk when he caught you, thankful for the dark room, for you couldn’t stand him looking at your burning cheeks. 

“You know you can look right?” He smiled, holding your cheek in his cold palm, your own palms sweating as he straddled you, his frame encompassing yours as he towered over you, your thighs already pulsing, begging for a round two as-

“Oh, oh jesus you have nice fingers.” You giggled as he inserted his two fingers in your pulsing core, jerking your hips as he navigated through your slick folds. 

“It’s actually Bucky, but Jesus would do too.” He said, silencing you with another kiss. He gave a throaty growl as you kissed him harder, slicking back his hair with one hand, scratching at his scalp with your nails. Smirking under the kiss, you continued to do so until he increased his pace, your throbbing core giving in to the stimuli.

It was somehow easy for you to forget that the man you barely knew had made you come twice in the same night.

“Do you- do you want to go out sometime? Preferably without that Parker kid trailing behind you like a puppy?” Bucky huffed, ceasing his movement to look at you, your mouth open, wiping the smudged lipstick with a finger. 

“Aw he has good intentions.” You smiled, licking your lips teasingly as he rolled his eyes, “admit it he’s a good kid.”

“Are you really talking about Parker while I’m fingering you?”

“What? Ew. No, just, he thinks you hate him.” You giggled, shifting on the sheets a little to release your straining pelvis from cramping. 

“I don’t hate him, he’s a good kid, but he’s also a little shit at times.” He said, a fond look in his eyes. Your heart clenched at his expression, slowly pulling out of his grasp as you flopped on the bed, turning and looking at him. 

“He do be like that sometimes. But to answer your question, yes I would love to go on a date with you.” You smiled, burying your nose in his neck, not even caring that some drunk people might walk in on you two. No one had so far, so you didn’t really care.

To say that you were whipped would be an understatement. You started visiting the compound more often, came to movie nights, spent more time with everyone (especially him). 

“No!” You laughed, giggling as he picked you up bridal style, “Bucky! Jeez put me down right this instant or I’ll stick fridge magnets on you!”

You were instantly dropped on your feet, sighing when you felt his arms circle your waist, pulling your back to his chest. The tower was empty, everyone going back to their respective workplaces. It was only the two of you. You could hear him hum under his breath.

“Fridge magnet? Are they those sticky things that stick on fridges?”

“Yes Bucky, that’s exactly what they are. I thought they existed in the 20s?” You scoffed, turning around, falling on his firm chest. Circling your hands around his waist, you pondered at how close you had gotten with him in just a few days. Heck, every time you visited, it felt like you were just growing closer, until you felt your relationship tying in a tight knot. With a snap, you realised that your life might as well be in ruins was he not yours at this moment. 

“Only rich people had them.”

Maybe you were going overboard with your feelings, maybe you were rushing things, but you didn’t mind. Getting close to people wasn’t always your strongest suit, but with this man, you didn’t mind having silent conversations. Until you could feel his fingers on every inch of your being. 

With your heart thudding in your chest, you realised that you could spend your entire life tightening the knot of your heart with his, listen to him breathe as you laid by his bedside, play silly games with him. You were in love with this man.

“What are you thinking about?” He smiled, still swaying in your embrace.

“Nothing much.”

A/N: the ending is a little questionable but lemme know what you think! Requests are open! :)