#writing lesson wednesdays

[beccawise7]

I think in my heart, I always knew you would be the one to shatter me... Leaving my soul void of my authentic self.

Unable to recall who I was before our minds danced together.

Powerless to enjoy the feel of anyone's fingertips against my skin but yours... even after a millennium had passed.

Unqualified in forgetting how sweet and strong you tasted on my tongue as I hungrily feasted on every part of you.

Incapable of understanding how you could throw away everything we built so effortlessly.

I mourned what I thought we had but began to grasp the realization that my scars would fade and while my busy mind may never forget...

I'll choose to remember you in the most fond way I can...

When you turned your back and ran. Showing me everything I deserved was far better than anything I thought we had.

I'd say I still miss you, but all I feel is free.

~beccawise7 💜🖤

[hislittleraincloud]

“Black Enid Sinclair” but it’s literally just her white ass in a dark blazer. Black Enid would be if she was ACTUALLY African American, you dense clown.

https://x.com/gpart_137/status/1900727218055045618?s=46&t=sjzE9yJDPIIrx07d8gwl7g

Said person is Mexican, and when we extricate ourselves from our Anglocentric worldview, we begin to understand how people relate to the world through their language. Black people in Mexico are still (los) negros and "black" the English word to them equals the color and darkness of Enid's hair and uniform.

What they seem to mean is "Dark Enid". Maybe even Bizarro Enid, but Dark Enid works fine (she doesn't have to be Wednesday Dark to be Dark Enid).

Language is complex and it teaches you how other peoples [sic] operate with other people and objects. English is an SVO language (subject-verb-object), and Spanish is the same; we prioritize the actor, then their action, and the entity with which the action affects ("The Mogwai (S) has (V) no ass (O).") But in a language that has a completely different structure, the focuses shift; a VOS language like Irish turns the expression into "Níl aon (V; no/there is none) masa ag (O; ass/buttocks) an Mogwai (S, the Mogwai)". Somewhere along the line when languages were flowering everywhere, the Irish thought to put verb first, forever rendering the self less signicant/important compared to the verb and object. Maybe they were drunk when they came up with the sentence structure ("OY, THERE BE NO ARSE ON MARTHA MCGILLICUDDY!" ~ Angus Finnegan, c. 4th century AD probably 🥸☘️). The Irish want you to get angry earlier in your discourse, rather than setting the stage.

Figured since it's almost St. Patrick's Day...

Look at you, you got a short ramble-starter on languages and how these dirty foreigners make use of English in their lives. It's useful to know so that we aren't surprised or jarred by the way non-English speakers refer to everything.

Always try to check their profiles before ripping into their grasp of the English language. 🫠

Have a little ❤️👄❤️ courtesy of the Baby Mogwai

[honeyynymphh]

Wip Wednesday

tagged by @sucharide years ago

this is from a new story (one of many) that is very nearly finished. having so much trouble finishing things lately so I’m hoping by posting this into the void I shall be motivated to complete it!

it’s just the beginning so there are no real warnings but it is a little nsfw

Cardinal Copia x FemReader

summary: you’re an abbey maid that has the unfortunate pleasure of having to clean the most infuriating cardinal’s office and personal chambers.

You stare at the books in front of you and sigh, the wooden ladder you stand on groaning a little with the movement. Fuck, how you hated having to clean this damn shelf—well, shelf didn’t really cover it, it was an entire wall full of books and a few odd curiosities. Honestly, cleaning this entire office was exhausting. It took up most of your day, and then you had to move on to the inhabitants’ personal chambers. No wonder nobody else wanted to do it.

All those months ago when Sister Imperator had given out the timetables you’d been ecstatic to see you had fewer rooms to clean than the previous roster. The other maids had given you pitying looks but nobody had offered to swap with you, which you had dismissed as odd. How bad could one person be? You understood why now. It was because this room had to be cleaned thoroughly or you ended up back here, dusting and wiping while the owner of the room sneered out unhelpful and downright rude commentary on your methods.

But you were not going to be cowed by that uptight ass. You didn’t care if Cardinal Copia was nearly as high up as Sister Imperator or the Papas. If the man wanted his study and chambers to be cleaned, he would, at the very least, give you some respect. You were the only one who didn’t find him weirdly offputting—though he very much was that—but cleaning his office and chambers was much more pleasant than having to clean up the Great Hall after one of their decadent feasts or having to clean the rooms of the Papas. You never knew what would be in store for you whenever you entered a space that Papa Terzo had just vacated. And once you were done, it meant you had more free time. It was worth it, especially now that you’d grown used to the Cardinal and his acerbic tongue.

Cardinal Copia was exacting and his manners were non-existent but at least he was predictable. And he rarely made any mess—he certainly didn’t leave cream splattered on the ceiling. At least, you think it had been cream…Papa Terzo had mentioned something about cream pies.

Your eyes focus back on the books in front of you, most are all leather bound and organised neatly. Some have titles in golden lettering along the spines but so few of them are in English. You are nearly finished tidying them back up after having dusted and your eyes scan over them. The Cardinal had such a strange collection of books, and while many you could never read, some had intriguing diagrams and little illustrations in them. As someone not part of the church, just a maid, it was fascinating perusing through the strange old texts. You were sure the one you had leafed through last week had been about summoning actual demons.

One book catches your eye, it’s bound in deep red leather and the spine is decorated in gold embellishments. Your fingers run along the bumps and dips of the spine before you slip it out from the shelf and flip it open at random, your hip pressing against the top of the ladder as you balance yourself. Your eyes widen as you take in the illustration before you. It is…obscene! A woman on her knees in prayer, yet she is naked and bound. And her open mouth is not waiting for the communion wafer but for the cock of the priest standing before her, the rest of the congregation looking on without a care.

You flip to another page. This time, a woman stands upon a small plinth—a rope hangs from the ceiling and suspends her tied hands high above her head. A man stands next to her, ready to strike her bare ass with a wicked-looking birch rod. But there is also another man, on his knees before the other, his mouth clearly wrapped around the other’s cock—his own hard and leaking.

“Intrigued, Signorina?”

[babygirllinds]

WIP Wednesday

- Chapter 7 of Let me Teach you a Lesson or Two

warning: slight smut

Tom had first pressed his hand to his thigh in the car, eyes straight ahead and not veering off the road. Pete tensed up, not expecting the heavy touch of his hot palm through his jeans. Pete stared at the side of his head, waiting for Tom to say something or look over at him, but nothing ever came. He relaxed further into his seat, letting out a tiny huff. A few moments later, Tom’s hand slipped to his inner thigh and squeezed. When Pete gasped and his head quickly swiveled to the side, he caught the small smirk gracing Tom Kazansky’s face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Tom responded, his hand still resting close to Pete’s crotch, his thumb swiping over the top of his thigh in a comforting gesture.

“Okay…” Pete eyed his boyfriend suspiciously and tried to will himself to not get hard.

The hand sat there idly for another moment, the same stroking motion continuing. Then ever-so-slowly the hand moved further up, Tom’s pinky stretching to run a light pressure over the seam of Pete’s pants. The squeak that leaves his mouth is embarrassingly high-pitched and his thighs clamp down on Tom’s roaming hand, locking him there.

“Tom!” Pete’s voice comes out strangled.

“Open your legs,” Tom’s tone leaves no room for discussion and Pete’s thighs fall open per demand. “Good boy,” he purrs, eyes still locked on the road.

Tom’s pinky continues the light pressure and Pete feels his dick twitch at the touch. He’s getting what he asked for.

“Here’s the plan, sweetheart,” Tom says, voice sickly sweet and low. “When we get back to mine, I’m going to reward you for being such a good boy. You’re taking your pills like I asked and you raised all of your grades to a respectable passing grade. You’ve done everything I’ve asked of you.”

Pete lets out a choked moan as Tom’s fingers trail up and over the growing bulge, “Tom–”

“Nuh-uh, not done,” Tom chides. “I was waiting for you to tell me yourself, but it’s been over a month now and you still haven’t said anything. You took one of my books.”

Tom knew? Pete’s mouth goes dry. Of course, he knew. The man was observant through and through. He probably caught it as soon as he came home that same day after dropping Pete off at the dorms. That, decidedly, was not ‘good boy’ behavior. The book was still stuffed under his pillow where he hid it from Goose’s prying eyes. He should’ve said something by now. Should’ve told Tom about the online forum and what he discovered. Let him know how much he was ready to give in and let Tom take care of him.

“I’m not mad, just slightly disappointed that you felt like you couldn’t come to me,” Tom’s hand is a steady feeling over his crotch, making him dizzy with lust as he tries to pay attention to what Tom is saying. “This only works if you trust me.”

cackling manically bc I’m really moving along in this chapter (it would honestly have been done by now if I didn’t have things in my life making me busy…). I hope y’all like this little snippet. definitely more smut that follows if that’s what y’all have been waiting for :) hope y’all enjoyed this week’s pick <3

[drinkthemlock]

anxiety levels catastrophic. happy Mother’s Day!

[velvetporcelain]

The sun is rising slowly and seductively this morning. It is not yet at its full potential and this is my favorite part of the day. The warm golden glow knocks my mind into line, something I cannot do sometimes.

I woke to thoughts of social media. I deter them and remind myself that none of it matters in a world whose image is completely fed by despair and validation. I cannot go back until I have a healthy outlook on it. I remind myself that this is a time to enjoy myself in the physical world. I simply do not want to go back because of him. Currently it is still my enemy, which saddens me a bit because I am one who wishes to share life. All in due time.

I long for something worth my energy and I have plenty right in front of me.

I am enjoying the validation I am easily giving myself during this time of major revaluation. I went my entire life trying to always be accepted somewhere and it is getting in the way of my higher self.

I do feel like I want to cry a bit. I know there is more out there for me that I have yet to experience and this one on one time with myself is helping immensely. There is nothing viable in that world. Nothing you can touch. To me that is nothing short than feeling dead.

Old emotions try and creep out of the places they have been hiding within my body. Unrecognizable ideas motivate me to keep exploring the need for my own company.

Today will be another beautiful day, probably the last warm day of the winter, but I don’t put it past Mother Nature. If she graciously gave me sixty degree weather all winter I will be okay with that. The mundane thoughts of chores hangs over my head this morning. My mind living in the past by calling it “routine.”

Life is good and easy. I am satisfied most by my progress and that is the driving factor. Knowing I can do better and better each time I learn something new. I will continue to take care of myself in this manner and always be open to adjusting accordingly.

It’s been almost a month since I really heard from anyone but my mother. My mother is what I like to call a constant in my life but I never feel suffocated. It’s been almost a month since I’d heard from my best friend. It saddens me a bit but then again, I haven’t reached out to her.

Now I feel that I am purposely thinking. Sometimes I do not like doing this. Why do I push my train of thought when it desires to rest? It’s like I can never totally be in a resting state of mind, but that is why I am a powerhouse of a woman.

Today I hope that you gently sift through the intrusive memories that bring up outdated feelings. What is meant to be will be.

-x

[shiftchii]

U.A. High in my DR !

Basics

Students are separated randomly into specific departments and classes sectioned by the letters A-K.

These departments are:

Department of Heroics (A - B): Students in this department learn everything they need to know in order to become excellent heroes in service to the community. They are trained in battle, first aid, rescue, support, and all manners of heroic-related lessons.

Department of General Education C - E): Students who don’t make it to the hero course are included here. This department supports students aiming for college and other pursuits. It’s also possible for students with good grades and exceptional strength and quirk skills to be transferred into the hero course (And either the support or business course mind you). Basically regular HS but they get to say that they went to UA on their resume.

Department of Support (F - H): Students here focus on developing support equipment that helps heroes out on the battlefield. With a workspace stock to the brim with all sorts of special tools and their own studio to build things, this department provides an unmatched creative environment.

Department of General Management (I - K): This department focuses on all aspects of heroic business, from the founding and managing of hero agencies to the promotion of public opinion regarding heroes. They even do hands-on lessons in venture capitalism. They have a lot of free time.

Each class is usually comprised of 21 students. That means that the total student population at UA would be 693.

We stay in the same class with the same teacher for all 3 years.

Since UA is a highly prestigious school, we get a lot of funding and benefits for the dorms and when we go on trips and whatnot. (Food we buy for the dorms is paid for, we get free snacks/concessions in the sports festival, free hero costume updates and renewals)

The school curriculum is way less loaded than here. The school system is much better.

The Hero Teachers are actually good at teaching.

Since U.A. is famous, it has many sponsors with support and hero merch companies, so some hero course students (usually 3rd years) have their own hero merch already. Students are sometimes sponsored and do photoshoots and are invited to red carpet events. (Following the School Festival, Class 1-A gets loads of sponsors and stuff!)

The teachers and students are encouraged to decorate their classes and most of them do so.

U.A. has a popular school website.

Staff and students are recommended to have Twitter to update the public events, the majority of the students obviously don't take this seriously, there's always someone who has beef and makes it public (Monoma) and it always ends up like those MHA Tweets, it’s the funniest thing ever.

Schedule

School is Monday - Friday and starts at 8:25 and finishes at 15:10. Regular classes take place during the first half of school, then the afternoon (for the Dept. of Heroics) you will have hero training. Only Dept. of Heroics students have an additional 7th period.

The teachers move between classes while the students stay in 1 class (besides electives).

Wednesdays are half days and only consist of hero training (so no typical school work), though sometimes it's replaced by FHS. You also don't have to wear your uniform on Wednesdays.

We will always have some kind of free time for school despite our somewhat busy schedules.

Not all school days are the same (emergency drills, other schools coming to train with us, etc.).

Classes

Core Subjects for Dept. of Heroics

Homeroom: Taught by Aizawa. Acts as a study hall. The class reps will often give a small meeting with the class about important events during this period.

Japanese: Taught by Cementoss. Focuses on reading, writing, and literature.

Mathematics: Taught by Ectoplasm. Covers algebra, geometry, and calculus.

English: Taught by Present Mic. Emphasizes reading, writing, and conversation skills.

Home Economics: Taught by Midnight. Cooking and other aspects of household management.

Foundational Hero Studies (FHS): Taught by All Might, Aizawa or Midnight. Hero related studying: hero laws, safety precautions, first aid, jsl, media training, dividing hero and civilian identity etc.

Hero Training: Taught by various teachers, usually Aizawa or All Might, it changes every week and we are informed about the activities during homeroom. For example: Quirkless Combat, Rescue Training, Combat, Quirk Training etc.

Elective Subjects

Thought by various teachers. This is the only class where students move instead of teachers, these are shared, so you could end up with classmates from other classes. Students get to completely choose what electives they have. If they don’t choose, they are placed in extra training or study hall.

Options:

Foreign Languages (e.g., Chinese, Korean)

Journalism

Art Foundations

Photography

Ceramics

Psychology

Choir

Band

Orchestra

Woodshop

Metalshop

Chemistry

Poetry

Cooking

Baking

Biology

Physics

Film Analysis

Computer Programming

Animal Work

Volunteer Work

Theatre

Student Council

Literature Analysis

Forensics

Study Hall

Class 1-A Timetable

Around UA campus

The updated UA security system is really good. The sensors are so good, you don't even need to have your ID out. They can scan it anywhere on your person. If you lost or misplaced your ID, the gates also have facial recognition software, so it's fine. If you're not a student or staff, you NEED a visitor pass or the school will go into lockdown on you.

We can use our school IDs to get snacks and drinks from vending machines around the school hallways. It’s free and they are replenished daily.

UA has a courtyard where we can eat outside. Most of the 2nd and 3rd years get food from places outside of the school campus and eat outside in the courtyard. Because of this, the cafeteria isn't as crowded and when we eat lunch we can sit and enjoy our food comfortably. The cafeteria is also luxurious and looks like a fancy mall café.

The library is huge and has many resources with much to explore. There are many different levels with varying types of quiet floors and study halls. It's also open 24/7 so students who are fighting to finish a project can pull all-nighters.

There’s a little shop that has U.A. and hero merch and school supplies including books for courses. You can also buy the merch on the online website.

UA has extracurricular groups and clubs for those who aren't in the hero course such as other sports and things like cheerleaders, debate, theater, music, cooking, ballet, and much more. I mean, hero course students CAN do those things but they WILL have a hard time doing so all while dealing with said hero responsibilities. As mentioned before, business course students have a lot of free time and general ED students are basically regular HS students who just so happen to be going to UA and for support course students, it really depends on how much work you choose to take on for yourself.

There is a study center where students who need extra help can go. Students with failing grades must go here for a set amount of hours to get the help they need. It’s strictly work, and talking about anything other than school is basically prohibited. It’s usually run by Ectoplasm and his clones or Hound Dog.

Work studies & Internships

All first years do an internship, it’s required. This is usually after the sports festival when students have had a chance to show off their skills.

Work studies are basically experience-oriented off-study programs that allow students in the hero course who have Provisional Licenses to work with pros at their agencies. Students will be able to use their quirks under the guidance of a pro, and can even be dispatched to fight villains and help out in disaster areas. If you do well, you can be scouted to become the hero’s sidekick.

Work studies are a more serious version of internships. They entail helping pro heroes on the streets and with investigations. They are usually reserved for 2nd and 3rd-year students, who usually have their licenses. 1st years didn't do them in the past. However, with the rise of villain activity, the school decided to open up work studies to 1st years as well, albeit a very small and select few of them. If they didn't find a good agency with a proven track record they wouldn't do it at all.

Events

U.A. has seasonal dances and a lot of events, like Halloween, Hero Day and other festivals.

Uniforms

Color palette

The uniforms the students receive consist of 4 sets of each clothing (besides the coat and varsity jacket):

Shirts

Long sleeve

Short sleeved

Sleeveless

Blazer

Long sleeves

Sleeveless

Cardigans

Sleeveless (two color variations)

Long sleeved (two color variations)

Sweaters

Sleeveless (two color variations)

Long sleeved (two color variations)

Pants

Shorts

Below The Knee

Classic

Skirts

Mini

Below The Knee

Maxi

Ties

Necktie

Bow Tie

Socks

Quarter

Crew

Knee High

Thigh High

Tights

Shoes

Coat

Varsity Jacket

Gym Clothing

Tank top

Loose Zip-up Sweatshirt (long sleeves, short sleeves, sleeveless)

Cropped Zip-up Sweatshirt (long sleeves, short sleeves, sleeveless)

Shorts

Below Knee Shorts

Sweatpants

Swimwear

Sleeveless, Short sleeved and Long sleeved

Lanyards

Uniforms aren’t required on Wednesdays

Students are allowed to accessorize their uniforms however they want and wear their own jackets

Piercings, colored hair, nails, makeup etc. are allowed

The uniforms aren’t gendered - all students receive all versions and are allowed to wear whichever one they prefer

For students with mutant type Quirks, custom made uniforms are made

Button and sleeve/lapel stripe differences between the department uniforms [1-General education, 2-Hero, 3-Support, 4-Management].

School Bag

Along with the Uniforms the school hands out bags. You can return them and use your own if you’d like.

A standard deep blue nylon matching the uniforms. The U.A. logo sits at the right bottom corner.

Class

If you’re standing at the front of the classroom looking out at the desks, the seating arrangement starts at the leftmost side of the room (“A” names), going front to back and then going to the next row to the right, and so on.  keep in mind that the alphabetical order here is based on the Japanese alphabet. My number is 10.

Here's how I laid out the desks for 21 students:

Since we stay in the same classrooms for most of the days we can leave out stuff at our desks. They have shelves underneath with 2 outlets and lots of space.

Class 1-A Friend Groups

Everyone is actually really close, but those are what groups spend the most time together. Of course we hang out in different groups or all together too.

We have frequent movie and game nights, 1-A has a group chat and it’s always active, there’s always someone wanting to do something. Sometimes we invite people from other classes.

DekuSquad

Izuku

Ochako

Tenya

Tsuyu

Shouto

Haruka

Hitoshi (after he joins our class)

BakuSquad

Katsuki

Eijirou

Mina

Denki

Minoru

Hanta

TokoSquad

Fumikage

Mashirao

Mezou

Tooru

MomoSquad

Momo

Kyoka

Yuga

Kouji

Rikido

I hope this was helpful! <3

© credits: seating arrangement • basics @/Priicklleshifts on TikTok • uniforms • dividers

[tan1shere]

Her Favorite

Teacher Billie Eilish x student female reader !

A/n: the thought of this is sending me feral rn, enjoy 😩 also Claudia is in this and we are pretending you and her are the same ages okur yuh (20-21)(bills is nearing 30s let's say 😋 MILF) - there's going to be links to the outfits on each day that she wears on one of the words, just to help you get a better visual 😁

Summary: you're the teachers pet. Her. Favorite.

Warnings: smut DURH, mdni ! Thigh riding, soft dom bills nothing new here, sub reader, heavy sexual tension GAHH - think thats it ! Lmk if I left anything out 😙

Masterlist - pt 2 , pt 3

You were a college student. That's how most of these go right? You're the popular party throwing, blonde- no. In this case you were the shy, less know girl who sat in the middle of the class, not in the front and center. Or in the back. You were fairly confident, in yourself and what you loved. But all attention on you sent worry through your body. You had one best friend, Claudia. She was the kindest soul, more outgoing than you were but you loved her regardless.

Today was a Wednesday so that means music class. You don't really have any interest in it if you're being honest. But Claudia insisted you join her as a fun class, which you'd argue with and say all classes were fun in a way. But that wasn't strictly true. You couldn't sing, nor play any instrument so it wasn't as fun to you. "You know, I got you to agree to this class because it was fun, not to be good at it!" She says, walking beside you into the classroom. "But we have to try to be semi good at it- and that's not going so well." She just nudges you. "Well I already know you have fun anyway." She winks. Making your eyes roll.

"Don't you just wonder what she will be wearing today." - "You're annoying you know that?" She shrugs with a smile. "I know you love meee." As you entered the room. You spot her. The teacher of this specific class. She was beautiful and you most definitely had a crush on the woman. Was it silly? Maybe, but it was the only good thing about this class. Like Claudia was teasing to you about before. Today Ms O'Connell was wearing something very casual. A brown striped jacket with a collared white shirt underneath. Her hair was down today and she just looked so good. You sat down in your usual seats.

Ms O'Connell then starts for today. Explaining a few things, you honestly had no interest in them. But you just couldn't help staring at her. You then hear your name being called pulling you out of whatever trance you were in. "Y/n? You listening love?" You swallow discreetly, trying to not make it obvious how nervous she made you. You'd never let it fully show. Besides she talked to all the students that way. "Yes, sorry just tubed out for a sec. I'm listening." You replied sweetly, really not wanting to get in trouble. Or maybe that wouldn't be so bad. She nods in reply, continuing.

It wasn't as if you voluntarily put yourself out there, you never asked questions but for some reason she seemed to ask you all the questions, why? You were just writing something down when she eventually approaches you. "Can we speak after this lesson?" She asked you so softly, you thought youd die right there. You nod. Feeling tingles going throughout your body.

That time, was now. You were packing up your things as everyone else leaved, you go over to her, but not as close. Which confused her slightly. "You wanted to see me Miss?" Her head tilts. "You can come closer. I don't bite." Her pretty smile was then to be seen, you reluctantly go closer. "I've noticed the past few lessons you've been distracted." Uh oh. "Are you sleeping ok? You so look a little tired recently. Everything alright?" The way she's checking up on you makes you want to pounce at her and kiss her beautiful lips. But your mind remains, trying to calm it down. And it was slightly true, you always struggled to sleep but that's just been a thing ever since you were a kid.

"It's ok, I'm fine just not a huge sleeper?" You admit, but there was a concerned look on her face. "As long as you're ok." You nod, suspecting the conversation was done going to leave, but she grabs your arm gently. You look at her, into her eyes. Your nerves coming right back. "I'm always here if you need anything yeah? If you need to talk." And there you were again, in a compelling trance. Her eyes were like a spell. Your heart rate picks up, at the feeling of her hand on your arm.

Little did you know, she saw it all. The way you looked at her didn't go unnoticed by the woman. And little did you know. This was just the start of something, so crazy.

It was now Friday, music class yet again. And you couldn't stop thinking about that interaction, the way her hand held onto your arm, her blue eyes casting a spell on your own. You even slept better that night as silly as that may sound. Maybe she was like a comfort? You walk in with Claud, going to your normal spot. Ms hottie (as you liked to call her in your head.) Was wearing something interesting today. It was another collared shirt, with faint lines. Paired with a sleevless jacket ontop. She had a cap on, and those sexy glasses. You loved whenever she wore them.

She admitted to the class that she didn't need them she just enjoyed wearing them. And your immediate thought was hot. So every time she wears them you freak out a little inside. You listened to her voice, speaking, singing. God she was everything. You had told Claudia about the other day and she just made you more delusional about it, saying...

"Oh my god, what if she likes you."

"She was so teasing you with the bite comment."

"She knows."

It had been driving you nuts, like she was a little person in your head repeating those sentences. And here you were yet again, not focusing. Ms O'Connell looks over at you but staying quiet this time round.

There was no doubt about how bored you were, but it wasn't long to go thankfully. For the class and the rest of the year. You honestly couldn't wait to be done for good, this was the last year. Once the lesson was over you go to pack up your things, when you hadn't realized your other books had fallen out of your bag. You sigh, going to bend down to your knees to pick them up. Everyone was leaving, and it was just you and her. You stand once you collect yourself and your things, turning around but only to be met with those beautiful blue eyes.

You gasp, had you of been expecting she was right behind you. "Sorry sweetheart, didn't mean to startle you." You flash her your sweet smile. "It's ok!" She looks over your body, slowly. Hm. Unusual. Unusually hot. "You seem to fade into space alot. Is that normal?" She asks. Referring to you being distracted earlier. Her eyes keep roaming around your body, landing on your eyes... Then your lips. Continuing that motion til she settles on your eyes. "A little yeah, big daydreamer." You laugh a little, nervously. "What do you tend to think about?"

You. You. You. Your brain chants. "Things." Her head casually tilts, but it goes straight to your head. Or maybe your aching core. Because that was way too hot. You swallow, audibly. A tiny smirk plays on her lips. "What's the matter?" She asks with slight concern but her smirk overpowers any of that sympathy. You felt like for the first time you couldn't speak to her, your words gone. "Hm?" She asks with such a velvety smooth tone. You wanted to whine, it's as if she knew what she was doing. Making you feel such a way. But that's impossible, right? You pluck up some confidence. When she gets closer to you before you could speak. "Kinda glad this is your last class for today." Your brows furrow. What? "W-why-?" You then ask, widening your eyes at how pathetic it came out.

"Because, I get to do something that I've been wanting to for soooo long." Your breath becomes quicker, unsteady. Similar to your legs. "Please." You breathe out, too into your own thoughts to care about how wrong this situation may be. In broad daylight. Her lips come softly onto your own, so incredibly slow. Your tongues eventually mingle together, tasting the sudden desire against one another. She pulls back going to swipe her thumb against your lip. Staring at them. You felt dizzy, weak. No way you just kissed her. "Things. I didn't know that was my new name." She looks into your eyes again. Darker, sexy. Fuck. You thought. Her hands reach for yours going to take you into her secluded office.

She shuts and locks the door. Approaching you. "I see the way you look at me angel, I'm very aware." You swallow, louder than the last time. "Just know those daydreams have you soaked huh?" She pouts slightly, in a mocking sense. Your head reluctantly nods. Looking into her eyes, she backs you up against the desk. "Then you must know just how much I daydream of you." Your eyes grew bigger, did she really just say that? No way... Her hands rest on your thighs, face leaning closer to yours. Moving slowly to your ear. "May I show you, pretty girl?" Your breath catches in your throat before you reply, breathlessly. "Please do." Her smirk returns.

Grabbing your hand again and leading you around to her chair, eventually getting you to sit on her lap. Your hands rest on her shoulders. Hers gliding up and down the sides of your body. "Just want a little taste of what I've been mindlessly thinking of, yeah?" Whatever the fuck that meant you didn't care, nodding nonetheless. Her hands then grip your hips, manhandling you so your cunt is directly over her thigh. The change makes you gasp slightly considering you hadn't expected that. Your hands grip her shoulders as your underwear is met with the rough material of her pants. Having your skirt semi out of the way. "Thin. Wet." She says inches away from your face. You bite your lip as you both hold eye contact. The way her glasses sit on her face making it 10x better.

This woman. She's driving you mental. Were you dreaming or something? She begins to slowly move you on her thigh, making your first noise come beautifully past your lips. "Good, you know how to use your voice." She says, averting her eyes to you and her thigh. "You gunna make a mess on ne sweet girl?" Your eyes shut as her movements quicken, feeling your brain fog over with a euphoric sensation. "M-more.." You blurt out. "More she says?" Billie chuckles deliciously. (Like at the end of guess 😵) "Angel wants more, how very sweet." You gulp. "P-please?" Your soft voice made her go nuts. She wanted so badly to ruin you right here right now. But she resisted for the time being. "And she asks sooo-" Her movements speed up, causing your eyes to pop, jaw agape. "-nicely."

Your head lulls back as you feel it coming, the way your clit was throbbing against her rapidly. Soon after feeling that tightness, only to be met with that sticky necter. All over her thigh. She hums in approval. Letting you fall against her, head landing in the crook of her neck. Your breathing slowly coming back to you as her hand rubs gently over the skin of your arm. "That's why you're my favorite."

After a minute or two you come back to reality. Not the right reality but your senses turn back on. She swiftly tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. Smiling at you gently, thinking for you second before taking her hat off and plopping it on your head. She looks at you so lovingly, now seeing that compassion in her eyes. It made you melt, softly putting your hands on her face. Hers latch delicately over your wrists, soon grabbing your hand and kissing it tenderly. This was wrong, not because of any age, but because she was your teacher. Did you really care tho? Hardly. Once you leave it's not like it'd matter. But oh fuck it felt too good.

"Go clean up darling, I'll see you on Wednesday." She then winks, as you leave the classroom. And all your mind could say was.

Oh.

My.

God.

Pt 2 will be out soon. ;)

[tortillamastersblog]

Where Light Bends Wrong | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.

Next Part | Masterlist

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Incessant knocking on my door makes me chuckle softly and put down my pen. “Yes?”

The door creaks open and Enid pops her head in with a blinding smile, revealing her canine teeth. “You busy?”

I shut my notebook and swivel around in my chair, shaking my head. “Not really, just doing some homework. What’s up?”

Taking that as an invitation, she enters the room and jumps onto my bed, buzzing with excitement so strong it makes my hairs stand on edge.

If she were anyone else, I’d ask her to leave because extreme emotions can be overstimulating, but she’s Enid and it’s obvious she has some exciting news to share, so I let her stay.

“I’m getting a roommate!” She dives right in, and I can’t help the way my eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Really? But it’s the middle of the semester.”

She nods excitedly and shuffles so she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, facing me. “I know, but Weems just told me, said something about an exception, but I wasn’t really listening after the words new and roommate left her mouth.”

It takes everything in me not to playfully roll my eyes at that, so I just smile and shift in my seat, pulling one of my legs under me so I’m sitting on my ankle.

“Okay, so what do you know about her? What kind of outcast is she?”

Enid pulls out her phone and starts writing something down, her thumbs flying over the screen in record time—probably updating her gossip blog as we speak.

“Not much,” she admits, her eyes still trained on her phone. “Just that her name is Wednesday Addams and she’s transferring because she almost killed a normie boy at her old school which— I know, kinda terrifying, but those are just rumors, kind of. And I don’t know what kind of outcast she is.”

Huh. Addams. That name rings a bell. I try to remember where I heard it before, but nothing comes to mind and before I can comment on anything Enid just said, the school bell rings faintly in the main building, signaling the end of my free period.

“I’m glad you’re excited about your new roommate, Enid, but that’s my cue,” I say, making her look up with wide eyes.

“I— Nooo, we have to talk about this! This is exciting you can’t just leave now,” she exclaims, which makes me laugh softly as I get to my feet.

“Unfortunately I have to, but we’ll see each other at dinner and you can tell me all about this Wednesday girl then, okay?”

It’s almost the end of the day, and while Enid is done for the day now because she didn’t have a free period like me just now, I have one more math lesson to go before I’m finally off.

“Fine.” Enid gets up as well and I grab my bag before we make our way out of the room and down the stairs to the main school building.

I have my own room up in one of the east towers because of my powers, and for the most part it’s nice that I have my own space, but it sometimes feels kind of isolating.

No one at school knows what I truly am, and Weems has said time and time again that it’s for the best because it keeps me safe, but I just can’t help but wonder sometimes what it would be like if I didn’t have to hide my powers all the time.

Enid knows about some of my powers like my super hearing, because she noticed how I flinched once when someone dropped a pen in class, but she’s never asked about it or any other detail.

Other students have tried to ask questions before but Weems has been telling me not to say anything ever since I came here, so I usually just brush them off or say I don’t know myself.

That latter part is kind of true because I don’t know the full extent of my powers either, but I do know what I am and that Weems is right. It’s better if no one knows.

“So, I’ll see you at dinner later?” Enid asks once we get to the quad.

I nod, even though I already feel my chest tightening at all the emotions buzzing in the students around us. I can sense them all, and I can hear almost every ruffle of fabric and every stuttered heartbeat when someone talks to their crush, but I can't say no to Enid now. Sometimes I can ignore it all, but for some reason I can't do it today.

Nonetheless, I say, “Yeah, see ya later,” which makes Enid pull me into an enthusiastic hug that almost gives me whiplash before she skips away to join Yoko and some of her friends.

I look after her for a moment longer, shaking my head fondly before straightening my uniform and making sure my necklace is still hidden beneath my shirt. Then I head to class, already dreading the dinner later.

Dinner, as expected, was overwhelming to say the least. By the time I went to the dining hall, the news of a new student arriving tomorrow had already spread, and the chatter was louder than usual. The excitement was like electricity in the air, and it was so overwhelming that I left as soon as I had cleared my plate and Enid had finished rambling about her new roommate.

It turns out she did not know much more than she had already told me, so there was not much to "talk about", as she put it, but that was fine.

Now I am sitting in the courtyard after a restless night of sleep, having breakfast at an empty table in a far corner, away from everyone else.

Usually I have breakfast with Enid and sometimes even Yoko, but whenever Enid is not around, which she is not right now because she is welcoming her new roommate, Yoko is not either. Not because we have a problem with each other, but because we do not have anything in common except Enid.

I continue eating my oat meal in peace, doing my best to zone everyone out by reading, but then Enid’s familiar voice manages to cut through the chatter around me.

“Welcome to the quad.”

I look up to see her standing on the other side of the courtyard, wearing a slightly nervous yet still bubbly smile. It is strange seeing her unnerved, she is usually so carefree, but I don't dwell on it for long because the girl standing next to her deadpans, “It is a pentagon,” in a clipped, monotone voice, which makes my eyes snap to her.

She is short. That is the first thing I notice, but then I take in the rest of her.

She is wearing a long black trench coat, sleek and tailored, with a pristine white collar peeking out from beneath the lapels. Her pale skin is almost luminous against the inky fabric and her dark hair is braided into two neat pigtails that fall over her shoulders. Her bangs are sharp, perfectly framing her face making her look elegant and graceful, but in a dangerous way. Like a sharpened blade sheathed in velvet.

Her eyes sweep across the quad, dark and calculating, and something about the way she looks at everything makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

So that must be Wednesday Addams, I think.

Once again, her last name rings a bell, and I try my best to place it, but it slips through my mind like water through fingers.

Still, I find myself watching her. Not just because she is new but because I cannot quite figure her out.

Usually, when I'm near people I can sense what they are feeling. Loud, humming energy right under the surface. But with Wednesday, it's different. There is emotion there, yes, but it's quieter. Muted. Like it is buried beneath layers of discipline and control. Like whatever is inside her is kept under lock and key.

It's unsettling and yet, I can't look away.

Enid begins giving her a rundown of the school’s social scene, bright and animated as ever, but I barely register the words. My eyes are still on the girl beside her, and when she says, “I am not interested in participating in tribal adolescent clichés,” in that monotone and measured voice of hers, I can't help but pull a bit of a face.

What has gotten under her skin? Does she always talk like that?

Enid just scoffs lightheartedly and brushes Wednesday off, slowly leading her around the quad while going over all the outcast groups—Fangs, Furs, Stoners, and Scales all included—while Wednesday looks like she would rather be anywhere else.

She walks stiffly, with a rigid spine, and it occurs to me that she is physically just as composed as she seems to be mentally.

I watch them walk around the quad, my oatmeal now completely forgotten as my eyes follow them. My ears easily pick up what Enid is saying, but it is not her voice I am focusing on.

It is Wednesday’s steady heartbeat because it's calm and unmoving, completely unlike the heartbeat of a new student who should be nervous in a brand-new environment.

I am so intrigued that I don't realize I am literally staring until it's too late.

Wednesday’s dark eyes snap to me like she felt my gaze on her, which she probably did, and she falters in her step just momentarily before falling back in line with Enid, who is still babbling on about Xavier and Bianca’s failed relationship. But Wednesday’s eyes stay on me.

Although they seemed to be filled with boredom just a second ago, almost bordering on emotionless, there is now a spark of curiosity in them that I only notice because her muted emotions shift ever so slightly.

Her stare is so intense, though, that after just a split second— even though I am intrigued by her, just as she seems to be with me— I have to avert my eyes.

I stare at my book again, pretending to read, but I am not taking in the words on the page in front of me when I can still hear Wednesday’s heartbeat pounding in my ears and feel her stare on the side of my face.

Luckily, her attention is not on me for much longer, because Enid guides her along until they reenter the school, leaving me and the rest of the other students behind.

I look up tentatively when I am sure they are gone and let out a quiet breath of relief. It might have been the first time I saw Wednesday, but I know that by being caught staring at her instead of avoiding her gaze like everyone else, I have now made myself a person of interest to her.

And she seems like the kind of person who does not shy away from a mystery until she has uncovered the truth.

The mystery in this case being me, of course.

Well, shit...

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Eyyoooo two uploads in one day! Am I on a roll, or what?!

Tag list:

[acosmicventure]

Planet That Influence Your Birth Day

Beyond birthdays and calendars, each day of the week is ruled by a celestial force — a planet that whispers its unique energy into your soul.

Let us journey through the days, and meet the seven celestial guardians — the planets that breathed life into your story, the day you took your first breath.

Born on Sun Day – The Soulful Leaders

Golden light courses through your veins.

If you were born on a Sunday, the mighty Sun is your celestial parent. You are radiant, warm, and born to shine.

Leadership feels natural to you — not as a burden, but as a blessing. You walk into rooms and change the temperature.

You inspire, uplift, and sometimes intimidate, for the Sun burns as much as it gives life.

Your life’s path asks you to embrace confidence, to rise even when dimmed, and to live with purpose as your light touches the world.

Born on Moon Day – The Keepers of Emotion (Monday)

Silver tides echo in your soul.

Monday-born souls are ruled by the Moon, the mother of intuition, emotions, and memory.

You are deeply connected to the unseen — moods, dreams, energies. You may feel more, sense more, and love with a quiet intensity.

Your gift is empathy, your challenge is learning to protect your softness. Like the Moon, you wax and wane, but your glow never fades.

You are a nurturer, a storyteller, a gentle tide washing over those in need of comfort.

Born on Mars Day – The Warriors of Passion (Tuesday)

Fire and will live in your heartbeat.

Tuesday-born are ruled by Mars, the red planet of action, drive, and desire.

You were born to move, to pursue, to conquer your own Everest. Courage is your currency.

You might act before you think, but your instincts are fierce and honest. You burn bright, sometimes too fast, but your life is anything but dull.

Conflict may follow you, but it’s there to teach you the art of sacred battle — choosing what’s worth fighting for and what deserves peace.

Born on Mercury Day – The Messengers of Light (Wednesday)

Words are your wings, curiosity your compass.

If Wednesday cradled your birth, Mercury kissed your mind. You are quick, witty, ever curious.

Communication is your superpower — whether through speech, writing, or thought. You live for ideas, connections, and movement.

A student of life and a teacher by nature, you weave information like thread into stories and solutions.

Restless, you’re always learning or traveling — even if just in thought. Your lesson is grounding, your gift is clarity.

Born on Jupiter Day – The Children of Fortune (Thursday)

Wisdom and wonder walk beside you.

Thursday-born are blessed by Jupiter, the planet of expansion, growth, and divine wisdom.

You are the philosopher, the optimistic seeker, the generous spirit.

Life wants to give you more — more knowledge, more opportunity, more experiences — but asks that you learn how to channel abundance with grace.

You believe in goodness, fairness, and justice. You may often find yourself teaching, guiding, or uplifting others simply through your natural light and perspective.

Born on Venus Day – The Romantics (Friday)

Beauty drips from your essence like rose petals.

If you were born on a Friday, Venus holds your heart. Love, beauty, art, and connection are the sacred threads of your life.

You notice the little things — the soft color of twilight, the melody in a laugh, the comfort of touch.

Relationships are your mirror, art your expression, and harmony your longing.

You’re not just romantic in love — you’re romantic in life.

Your journey is to discover that true beauty begins within, and that your softness is your strength.

Born on Saturn Day – The Old Souls (Saturday)

You carry time in your bones.

Saturday-born are the children of Saturn — the wise, the enduring.

You may feel older than your years, more responsible, more contemplative.

Your path is not always easy, but it is rich with soul-deep lessons.

You are here to build, to persevere, to master something great.

Structure comforts you, but so does silence. You teach the world that slow doesn’t mean stuck — it means sacred.

In time, your life becomes a legacy.

The day you were born is more than just a mark on a calendar.

It is a note in the melody of the cosmos, a subtle influence that dances with your destiny.

Whether you burn like the Sun or reflect like the Moon, whether you march like Mars or bloom like Venus, the stars sing to you — every single day.

Let your birth day be a reminder of the planet walking beside you offering strength, lessons and wisdom.

A COSMIC VENTURE

[girlypopbops]

⋆˙⟡Ultimate Self Care Sunday Guide ⋆˙⟡

☆.。.:*·°☆.。.:*·°☆.。.:*·°☆.。.:*·°☆.。.:*·°☆.。.:*·°☆.。.:*·°☆

When I think about Sundays I think about rejuvenation and pleasure ; enjoying the day while doing a weekly reset.

On Sundays I like to sleep in and get that well deserved beauty sleep, the key to any successful reset is being well rested and grounded.

♡ (10:00am) Wake up, take my time waking up & lay in bed for a few mins, stretch and take some deep breaths, positive affirmations

"Today I am grateful for..."

"I deserve to treat my body with love and care today."

"I am committed to improving myself and achieving my goals daily."

♡ Open the blinds, straighten up room, and make bed. Starting the day with a bright and neat room is a simple and refreshing way to start the day off on the right foot, a small achievement as soon as you step out of bed will inspire you to keep going.

♡ Drink water & take my meds and supplements. Since it had been hours since I had any water hydrating is super important, and since I'm already taking my medicine might as well finish the glass off.

♡ Journal and plan day. Having a game plan and a clear mind before doing any real tasks sets the foundation for a productive day and promotes mindfulness. I like to have rose quartz, clear quartz, and amethyst on my desk while I journal to set peaceful intentions and promote self love. I have a five minute journal so I begin by thinking of 3 things I'm grateful for, one affirmation, and 3 things I can do for the day that will make it great. Typically on Sundays taking my time, being attentive, and being proactive are my goals for making the day great. I'll then make a to-do list for the day.

♡ Skin care and comfy clothes. Washing my face, moisturizing and putting on sunscreen is the perfect simple skin care for running errands, I usually wear some sweat pants and a t-shirt to finish the fit.

♡ Breakfast! I always like to have lots of fruit and a sweet treat on Sundays as part of my breakfast as a treat for getting through the prior week.

♡ Reset cleaning session. I like to do a full vacuum of my space, mop, wipe everything down, run the dish washer, and do my laundry. Other cleaning tasks vary based on the week but I like to make sure I am doing those tasks weekly. I also like to make sure to wash towels on Sunday since sometimes I'll do laundry on Wednesday and don't do towels then.

♡ Ultimate shower vibe time. The everything shower of my dreams after being all sweaty from cleaning. ( I have a post about this already on my page!)

♡ Light a candle and set the vibes with some mood lighting.

♡ Do my full skin care routine, face mask ect...

♡ A nice filling dinner & tv show. I love a Sunday night pasta dish with a Diet Coke while watching Pretty Little Liars.

♡ Journal. My five minute journal has a section to do in the evening, it asks to write down 3 highlights of the day and what lesson you learned for the day. It's a nice way to look back fondly on the day.

♡ Read. I like to read before bed since it helps me to fall asleep! I've been reading The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz and Conversations on Love by Natasha Lunn!

♡ (10:30pm) Night time meds & slumber!

[deepfivetraveller]

King Baldwin x Time!Traveler!reader

chapter 1

Chapter 2 here

Okay I’m a little new to writing romance so please take it easy on me. Btw I’ll try to keep y/n as neutral as possible but since this is set in the ancient era and religion is very important, y/n shall be hinted as being Hindu since that’s the only one that seems neutral in this situation.

“Alright that's all for the lesson. And since its complete I expect all of you to be thorough with ‘Life of King Baldwin iv’ during this weekend since there will be a test on this very topic next wednesday. Have a great weekend by the way.” The professor stands up and closes his laptop and all the other students start packing up.

“He had a pretty hard life didn’t he?” One of your friends chimes in. You look at her unsurprised. “You mean king Baldwins?”

“Duh! Poor man suffered an incurable disease almost his entire life! Imagine having skin infested in bacteria, euggh!” She recoils in disgust. “Imagine the cure to that disease being bacteria itself! Pretty sure Leprosy can be cured using multi antibiotic therapy.” Another friend joins in the conversation. You finished packing up your bag so you get up. “But no matter what, you gotta respect him. He never used his illness as an excuse to be a bad king.”

“That’s true….” Your first friend agrees. “He’s tough. When I catch a normal cold I give up all of my responsibilities since I’m sick. Wonder how hard it must have been for him.” All of you exit the classroom. A few minutes go by and topics have changed. A fun conversation lasted for a while before it was time to go, so you three parted ways.

As you entered your home your first thought was to take a cold shower after a long, hot and sweaty day. While eagerly hopping into the shower you get reminded of the conversation you had with your friends a while ago. What did king Baldwin even look like? There were no images in your textbook. Curiosity got the best of you, making you draw back the shower curtains to leave. You wrapped a towel and went towards the table where you kept your mobile, typed a quick ‘King Baldwin the 4th images’ and hit enter. Two images popped up. One being an actual painting from the 12th century while the other being an image reconstructed by scientists which looked…realistic to say the least.

His face in the second photo was majestic. His mouth and nose were almost non-existent, having only two triangular shaped holes instead of a nose. His skin was dry, withered and stretched while having the hue of a dry leaf during autumn. Even though he was severely disfigured his eyes were pure and bright, having a child like innocence towards them. King Baldwin was…Quite handsome.

Okay that’s enough now snap out of it! It’s probably just some AI prompt message image anyway. If anyone found out you found him handsome they’d call you crazy. Plus now is not the time to fangirl over a dead king, now's the time to study. In an attempt to distract yourself you pick up your books to do work. Hours painfully go by as you study but finally, finally it was bedtime. You could care less about eating dinner or even taking a shower, you plop yourself onto your bed and wrap the soft blanket around your body. Thoughts about King Baldwin strike your mind again. Seriously, what's wrong with you?! Why is this man plaguing your thoughts all day?

A sigh escaped your mouth from irritation. If only it was possible to console him for his losses or better yet, cure him entirely. The world would have been a better place if he had the lifespan of a normal man.

But there is no point thinking about this, time to go to bed now. As you try to go to sleep your body keeps doing the fake fall thing, annoying you to the core. And finally when your bodys heartbeat was steady and your breathing was quiet, your body did that fake fall thing again but this time it was actually a real fall.

Eyes widen as you try to grab onto the air to prevent your fall but of course, you fail. Adrenaline rushes through your veins for that split second before you finally make an impact on the cobblestone path?

Owch! That fall really hurt, especially at the back of your shoulders! You hope it’s not bruised there. But after that reality check, you look around only to find yourself in some village?

You can see a few small huts and buildings beyond the grassy field. Where are you? How are you here? Why are you here? Too confused and dazed from the fall, you try to look around for people for help. That is until a holographic screen with text pops up.

Congratulations Ms. Y/n. Your wish to cure King Baldwin has been approved by the ₦ł₥฿Ʉ₴฿₳Ʉ₦Ʉ₴. You are now at Jerusalem, Year: 1181.

“What?”

Yes it’s true Ms.Y/n, you really are in the 12th century.

Your blood is now boiling in anger. “Just because….Someone wishes pity over a dead king DOES NOT ACTUALLY MEAN THEY WANT TO CURE HIM!” You try to grab onto the screen to shake it vigorously but your hands go right thru.

Now now, let’s calm down and try to get over with this together I’m sure we’ll find a solution.

“Calm down…CALM DOWN?!?!?!? I’m in the middle of nowhere in Jerusalem during the 12th century and you want me to CALM DOWN???? I don’t even know French and not to mention I’M NOT CHRISTIAN!” You were screaming with your hand in the air. Pretty sure you woke someone up.

Y-Yes but that’s why I’m here. Don’t worry about communication, the language module for french had been uploaded into your brain while you fell here.

The screen flickers a little, maybe due to fear.

Uploaded knowledge? “But I’m a woman from the 21st century! I can’t live here! I’m wayy to accustomed to the privileges of my time!”

That’s one of my perks miss! By using currency of this time you may purchase products of your time thru me! The screen changes to an online store. For now you have access to basic necessities like food and clothes. As you complete missions you shall unlock other parts of the online market! The screens display brightness increases due to enthusiasm, convinced it has impressed you.

You however look at it in exasperated shock. “How is this even possible?” You say with dread in your voice. “Who sent me here?” You ask, no, demand.

Like I said You’ve been sent here by ₦ł₥฿Ʉ₴฿₳Ʉ₦Ʉ₴. I’m pretty sure you can’t read that since mortals don’t have the capacity to….

Mortals? Is this the play of some higher being? God even? Too many questions float through your head, making you visibly tired. You can feel the bottom of the skin beneath your eyes folding, an indicator you’re developing dark circles.

Ah. It looks like you’re tired. It’s night anyway. You should sleep.

“But where do I-”

“Excuse me madam.” You turn around to see a man standing behind you. “I’ve noticed you’ve been talking to yourself.”

So he can’t see the screen. From his ragged outfit he seems to be a commoner. He also genuinely seems worried so you guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask for help.

“Yes, sorry for that.” You say embarrassingly while you get up. “You see I’m from the family of wandering traders, here to sell spices from my land. I was talking to myself since I was quite irritated at how I didn’t have an inn for the night.” The explanation seems responsible enough I guess.

“But I don’t see any goods with you… And how did a young lady such as yourself travel alone? Where is your husband?”

Crap. He’s doubting you. You need to give him a reasonable explanation fast or he’ll call you a witch or something.

“Oh no sir you’re mistaken! My father is the one who has the spices, it’s his business after all. We had to split ways during travel due to inconveniences, I’m merely here to help him!” You put on your best smile to convince him.

“O-Oh I’m sorry madame! H-Here let me lead you, I know an Inn nearby.” Good. Looks like he believes you. But now it’s your turn.

“I’m sorry sir but how can I trust you?” You step back a little. “What if you take advantage of me? How shall I testify my innocence? The locals would definitely believe you over me.”

“No no please don’t! I’m a married man. My wife’s right there.” he points at the lady standing just outside the house, looking worried. You look at her and she nods her head in reassurance. “You seem like a noble from your land madame judging from your colorful dress, why don’t the both of us show you where the inn is?”

Hmm….Guess colorful clothing is rare here. And he really does seem like he wants to help.

“Very well then. Both of you show me they way.” The man eagerly tells his wife the incident and both of them show you around. The screen follows you, showing you a winking emoticon.

Congrats Ms. Y/n! You have officially begun your first mission!

[twoplayergaymers]

A Sign Of Affection—

Part One // Part Two// Part Three

❋ deaf! Bakugo x Fem Interpreter! Reader

❋ Interpreting for Dynamight: How Hard Could It Be?

❋ a note before you begin:

After the lessons, every dialogue between bkg & the reader is signed and also verbally spoken simultaneously (unless stated otherwise or unless it’s in ASL gloss, it’s only signed.. lowkey I got lazy writing out the gloss) somewhat proofread, also idk if I ever specified but they’re like 24.

It’s been a few weeks since you caught Bakugo practicing his signs in his office that night. The sight stirred something warm in your chest, feelings you knew might be there but had been pushing down. You had no idea how long he’d been practicing on his own, but knowing he was doing this for you made your heart swell.

Your lunch “dates” with Bakugo have become a routine—Monday, Wednesday, Friday. On Tuesday, Thursday, and the occasional weekend, whether you’re working or not, you spend time with Talia. It’s a good system, one that keeps everyone happy. Most of all, you.

You’d gotten to know him better, comfortable enough to tease and joke with him, not missing the way his ears would tint pink, sticking out from the neck of his winter costume. Surprisingly, he’d become a little more talkative—at least, talkative for Bakugo. You do most of the talking, rambling about the stupid TikToks you see when scrolling before bed, how your favorite time of year is approaching, or how every time it snows it reminds you of making snow angels with the other kids in elementary school. He listens, head resting in his hand, nodding occasionally. He always listens.

One day, as you’re rambling on, hands flying as you speak, you catch his eyes. He’s watching you softly, his gaze intense but not unkind. For a moment, you freeze, caught off guard by the way his focus never wavers from you. It’s different from the usual Bakugo—no sarcasm, no annoyance. Just… quiet attention. Your heart skips a beat, and you clear your throat awkwardly, suddenly self-conscious under his stare.

“What?” you ask, your voice a little unsure, unsure if you’ve caught him in a moment of distraction or something more.

He leans back slightly, crossing his arms with that familiar gruffness, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “Teach me more.”

Your brow furrows. “Teach you more? What are you talking about?”

“Sign language,” he clarifies with a slight frown, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been practicing on my own, but… it’s harder without someone to help. So teach me more.”

You blink, surprised by the request. You didn’t expect him to ask, especially after all this time. “You want me to teach you more?” You repeat, feeling a little stunned.

“Yeah, unless you think I can’t handle it,” he adds, his tone rough but with a hint of something softer underneath.

You pause, feeling a smile tug at your lips. “Woooow THE Katsuki Bakugo aka greatexplosionmurdergoddynamight asking ME for help?”

He glares at you, unamused. “Shut up, I’m serious.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his attempt to act tough. “Oh, I’m serious too. The mighty Dynamight wants me to teach him how to sign? This is a day I’ll never forget,” you tease, hands dancing in the air as you laugh lightly. “okay, okay, fine!”

He nods, rolling his eyes but seemingly satisfied with your answer, and you can’t help but feel a little nervous, a little excited by the prospect of spending even more time with him in a completely new way.

“But,” you add, “we’re not just doing signs. You can’t really understand the language without knowing the culture behind it, so I’m gonna teach you about Deaf history too. You good with that?”

For a moment, he seems to hesitate, then he grunts, giving you a half-shrug. “Fine. Whatever. Just teach me.”

“Alright, then. Let’s start with something easy. You know this I’m sure. Repeat after me.” You make the sign for thank you, your fingers gently moving in front of your chin.

He watches for a moment, clearly studying your movements, and then mimics it, though with an exaggerated, almost sarcastic flair. “Thank you,” he signs, the expression on his face a mix of concentration and something close to pride.

You raise an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “You’re gonna need to tone down the ‘grumpy old man’ vibe when you do that. It’s a simple gesture, not a declaration of war.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “I’ll sign however I want.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” you say, trying to hide your smile. “But if you want to be understood, maybe tone it down a notch. Sign’s all about facial expression.”

Bakugo groans, rubbing his temples. “This is gonna be a pain.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” you reassure him, still grinning. “You’re already halfway there. You were learning without me! Just try to be a little more… chill about it. You don’t have to yell at the signs to make them work.”

“I’m not yelling at the signs,” he mutters under his breath, looking as if he’s ready to start up a verbal war with the hand gestures themselves.

You can’t help but laugh, enjoying the easy camaraderie between you two. “Alright, alright. Let’s move on to something else..”

And just like that, your lunch breaks change. They’re no longer just casual moments between coworkers—they’re lessons. Every day, you help him practice new signs, dive into Deaf culture, and teach him about the history behind the language. At first, it’s awkward, but as the days pass, Bakugo’s determination shines through, and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable with him. Little by little, he’s picking it up, surprising you with how fast he learns, his focus sharper than you’d ever expected.

It feels like something more than just teaching. It feels like you’re both learning—not just language, but something deeper, something unspoken.

Some days, Bakugo doesn’t need help. He’ll quietly practice the signs you’ve gone over, occasionally glancing at his notebook and muttering under his breath, and you watch him with a soft smile. Other times, when he’s frustrated, his hands move erratically, and you gently correct him. “Remember, sign’s grammatical structure is different”

He groans but tries again, this time a little more carefully. “Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

Your bond grows in these moments—subtle, but noticeable. The quiet pauses in conversation aren’t uncomfortable anymore. Instead, they feel like small, private moments that neither of you need to explain. The warmth between you is growing steadily, unnoticed by anyone else but you two.

You’re getting closer, and somehow, it doesn’t feel like the inevitable disaster you might’ve expected. There’s no awkwardness, no anxiety—just a quiet understanding that this, whatever it is, is worth investing in.

Lunch breaks are still your favorite part of the day. But it’s no longer just about teaching him signs; it’s about the little moments in between. The way he chuckles under his breath when he gets a sign right, the way he quietly listens when you talk about your day, and the way his eyes follow your hands as you sign to him—intently, like you’re the only thing in the room.

And though he rarely says it out loud, you can see it in the way his confidence grows. He stops hesitating as much, his movements becoming more fluid, and the frustration he used to carry when he couldn’t get a sign right is replaced with a sense of pride when he nails one. You feel that pride too, making your heart swell.. well that and.. something else

The changes in Bakugo don’t go unnoticed. He’s still the same stubborn, hard-headed hero you met weeks ago, but there’s a gentler side to him now, one that’s more patient, more willing to learn, especially when it comes to you. The way he listens, the way he looks at you when you’re teaching him—there’s something different about it, something that makes your heart flutter unexpectedly. It’s not just admiration for his progress; there’s a deeper connection growing between the two of you, even if you’re not quite sure what to call it yet.

You’re not sure when the shift happened, but somehow, his presence doesn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. His quiet moments with you, his small smirks when you catch him in a mistake, and the soft way he signs “thank you” at the end of each session—those moments become your favorites. It’s almost intimate, the language only two of you in the office understand.

The moments consume your mind more than you care to admit. You try to convince yourself it’s just your ego at play. You’re a great teacher, after all. You tell yourself the way your heart flutters and your skin flushes when you see him genuinely smiling at himself is simply the pride of seeing your little prodigy succeed. It’s what you want to believe.

But somehow, these thoughts slip out during your rambling, and you curse yourself silently for being such a yapper. Now, across the table, Talia’s smirking at you, tapping her French manicure on the surface.

Talia raises an eyebrow, her smirk growing wider as she leans in slightly. “Girl,” she starts, her voice playful, “you are so into him.”

You freeze, suddenly self-conscious, your face going hot. “What? No, I’m not.”

She shrugs, tapping her nails again. “Sure, okay. But I’ve seen the way you talk about him, the way your eyes light up when you mention his progress. You’re practically glowing”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I can’t help it. He’s improving so fast, and it’s just… nice to see him genuinely trying. He’s not just doing it for me, either. He’s really putting in the effort.”

Talia smirks, clearly not convinced. “Uh-huh. Sure, it’s just that. Nothing else.”

You shoot her a glare, but it doesn’t stop her teasing. “Come on, I’m not blind. I see the way you look at him. You can deny it all you want, but I know what I see.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, but the playful tone in your voice betrays you. You’re caught, and you know it

You know it, but you’ll never admit it—not even to yourself. It’s complicated, and frankly, inappropriate on so many levels. You’re his ‘teacher’ and he’s your coworker�� practically your boss.

There’s a million things that can go wrong, so many that scramble around in your brain as you stare down at the cup of frozen yogurt before you

You try to focus on the cold swirl of yogurt, the way the spoon sinks into it with a soft, satisfying scoop, but your mind keeps drifting back to him—Bakugo. How everything feels so easy when you’re together, yet it’s so complicated at the same time.

You know you’re crossing lines, blurring boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. He’s your coworker, your boss, and you’re his teacher in this odd, quiet way that nobody else really understands. This is all risky, too risky for someone like you. The heart flutters and the rush of warmth you feel when he looks at you, when he smiles, aren’t supposed to mean anything. But somehow, they do.

A sigh escapes you, and you drop the spoon into the cup with a thud. What is this? What’s going on here?

You’re not sure you can keep pretending it’s nothing.

But you’re sure as hell going to try.

Talia’s voice cuts through your thoughts, sharp and teasing, as she watches you play with your frozen yogurt. “You’re looking like you’re about to have an existential crisis. What’s going on in that head of yours?” She leans back in her chair, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, an amused glint in her eyes.

You glance at her, shaking your head but offering a small smile. “It’s nothing,” you murmur, but even you don’t believe it.

Talia raises an eyebrow. “Really? Because I’ve never seen you look this spaced out, don’t think I’ve ever heard you stop talking for this long” she giggles

The teasing tone is there, but you can see the curiosity in her eyes. She knows you too well, and it makes you nervous. You try to keep your voice light. “I’m just tired. Long week.”

She leans in, her expression suddenly serious “don’t lie to me, y/n. What’s going on in that cute little head?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out and you just shrug in response, trying to laugh it off.

Talia raises both hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I get it. Keep your secrets. But just know, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.” She takes a bite of her own frozen yogurt, leaning back in her seat as if she’s already won the conversation.

“So,” Talia begins, spoon halfway to her mouth, “you too busy wallowing in your mystery feelings to come out with me tonight?” She pops the yogurt into her mouth with dramatic flair, chewing slowly.

You roll your eyes, and a hesitant look adorns your face. “I’m not wallowing I just—”

“Uh-uh!” she cuts you off, waving her spoon at you. “You owe me, remember? You ditched me for your little project—your boy,” she says with a smirk, emphasizing the last word as if it’s a scandalous secret.

You groan. “He’s not my boy—”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe,” she interrupts again, leaning back in her chair with a triumphant grin. “But tonight? You’re mine. No excuses. 9pm. Dress real pretty.”

“Fine, you’re so lucky I love you” you say with the shake of your head, taking another bite of your frozen yogurt

And that’s how you find yourself in the dimly lit jazz bar. not what you were expecting from Talia, thinking you’d be finding yourself in some dark, crowded club with music so loud you could feel it vibrating through your bones. Her energy is so playful, so lively you could’ve almost bet she’d be in a scene like that. A bet you apparently would’ve lost.

Your fingers drum idly against the bar as you wait for her to arrive, late, per usual. The jazz music surrounding you is nice, making you hum absentmindedly. You’re about to pull out your phone and text her in all capitals that she’s late and leaving you susceptible to creeps but you hear the click of heels behind you.

Acrylic nails rake lightly along your bare shoulders, making you jump. “Hellooo, gorgeous!” Talia’s voice lilts as she slides up beside you, gesturing dramatically at your outfit. “I see you, little black dress! Lookin’ like dessert!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Flattery won’t make me forget that you’re late, as usual.”

She gasps in mock offense, clutching her chest like you’ve wounded her. “Excuse me! Fashionably late, babe. I had to give you time to get all this attention before I showed up and stole the show.”

You shove her playfully. “Yeah, yeah. I forgive you, though, because damn, my wife is sooo fine.” You drag out the last words, laughing as she strikes a pose.

“Don’t I know it,” she quips with a wink, sliding onto the stool next to you. “Now, what’s the vibe tonight? We drinking to forget, or are we scheming about your boy?”

You roll your eyes, flagging down the bartender. “Neither! You invited me out, we’re having a fun time together.” Talia arches an eyebrow, propping her chin on her hand as she studies you. “Mmmhmm.”

The bartender slides your drink across the bar with a smile, you return it and eagerly take a sip. “Stop looking at me like that. There’s nothing to say.” Her gaze doesn’t waver. “Talia! I’m serious. He’s my coworker. My.. my boss!”

“Uh-huh.” Talia’s smirk widens as she leans closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “You’re telling me that you spend all your lunch breaks teaching him sign, watching him practice, and—what was it?—listening to you ramble? And you’re just coworkers?”

You groan, hiding your face behind your glass. “Why did I come here again?”

“Because you love me,” Talia says sweetly, patting your hand. “And because I’m not letting you mope around in your little apartment pretending you don’t have feelings for that man.”

“I do not—”

She holds up a manicured finger, cutting you off. “Nope. Let me finish. You’re allowed to have feelings. It’s not a crime. What’s the worst that happens? He likes you back? Shocking. Scandalous.”

You go to open your mouth again but her finger is still hanging in the air and she pushes it closer to you again, she’s not finished. “Let me be real with you baby, cause I love you. You know that. That man does not do anything he doesn’t want to do. He doesn’t do shit to be nice. Nothing. He wants you, y/n, I fucking know it”

You shake your head in disbelief, nervous smile plastered in your face “you make it sound so simple”

“That’s because it is.” Talia waves her hand as if to dismiss your doubts. “But I get it. You’re scared. You’re like a deer in the headlights of his grumpy charm. It’s cute, really. Annoying, but cute.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Dr. Phil,” you deadpan, but you can’t stop the grin tugging at your lips.

Talia lifts her drink with a wink. “Anytime, babe. Now, cheers to you, me, and your inevitable realization that you’re head over heels for Dynamight.”

You clink your glasses, the sound light and musical against the backdrop of jazz. Maybe she’s right—maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. For tonight, though, you let yourself laugh, let yourself relax, and let the music carry you away.

A few drinks and much tipsy laughter later the bartenders sliding another drink across the bar to you

“Oh? I-“ “it’s from him.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder to a man sitting on the other side of the bar.

“Ooo he’s cute!” Talia whispers, leaning closer to you as the man raises his glass in your direction. You return the gesture with the drink he sent, offering a polite smile before taking a sip and turning back to your conversation with Talia.

Minutes later, just as you’re mid-laugh at something Talia says, the same man appears beside you. He clears his throat softly, a friendly, slightly nervous smile on his face. “Excuse me, ladies. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I just wanted to say hi—and I hope you’re enjoying the drink.”

Talia raises an eyebrow at you, her lips twitching into a mischievous grin. You set your glass down and smile up at him. “Thanks for the drink. That was kind of you.”

“It’s nothing, really. I just thought… well, I couldn’t help but notice your laugh from across the bar.” His smile grows a bit more confident. “It’s contagious.”

Talia nudges your arm with her elbow, and you swear you’ll never hear the end of this late.

You feel your face flush and you can’t tell if it’s from his words or the liquor, but you give a small smile back. as Talia, ever the wingwoman, leans in and whispers, “I’ll give you two some space. I’ll be right over there.” She walks away with a subtle grace, but the second she’s out of his line of sight—and firmly in yours—she shoots you a wide grin and two enthusiastic thumbs up. You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing into your conversation.

“I swear I’ve seen you before..” he starts “I can’t forget a face that pretty. You’re.. on tv right? Wait don’t tell me.. I know this.. interpreting!”

You blink, caught off guard by the leap in logic. “Uh, yeah,” you admit, half-laughing. “I do some interpreting work for heroes sometimes.”

He snaps his fingers, grinning. “I knew it! You’re the one who works with Dynamight, right? That’s so cool.” His tone is earnest, though the mention of Bakugo makes your stomach flip in a way you’d rather not unpack right now.

You nod, swirling the drink in your hand to focus on something other than the sudden knot in your chest. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s, uh… an interesting gig.” You try to keep your tone light, though the thought of Bakugo lingers in the back of your mind.

The man leans on the bar, clearly intrigued. “Interesting’s an understatement. I mean, you must have stories. He’s kind of… intense, right? Like, what’s he like off-camera?”

You can’t help but smile at the question, though it’s small and guarded. “He’s… dedicated,” you say after a pause. It’s not a lie, and it feels safe enough. “Takes his work seriously.”

“Dedicated, huh?” he muses with a chuckle. “Well, I guess that’s a nice way of putting it.”

You laugh softly, sipping your drink. “Something like that.”

The conversation drifts into safer territory you learn his name is Mason, you talk about his job, your favorite drinks, his love for the jazz band currently playing—and it’s surprisingly easy. He’s charming, polite, and not pushy, which you appreciate. Still, there’s something tugging at the back of your mind, pulling you out of the moment.

Talia eventually meanders back, her arrival announced by her heels clicking against the floor. “I hate to interrupt,” she says sweetly, though the mischievous glint in her eyes says otherwise, “but I’m stealing her back for some girl talk.”

Mason doesn’t seem too fazed. “Of course. It was nice meeting you, though. Hopefully, I’ll see you around maybe not just on my tv screen?”

You nod, offering a polite smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Talia slides back onto the barstool, raising an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Are you into him, or was that just free drink bait?”

You roll your eyes, trying not to laugh. “He was nice.”

“But…?”

“But nothing,” you insist, though the teasing smile on her face tells you she doesn’t believe you.

Talia leans closer, her voice low and knowing. “It’s because he’s not him, isn’t it?”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you can’t find the words. Because you should be into mason and you’re not. The truth is, she’s absolutely right—but admitting that feels like stepping onto shaky ground you’re not ready to navigate just yet. Instead, you take another sip of your drink and let the music fill the silence.

You quickly change the subject. “Forget men what if I just marry you instead?”

“Now you’re cookin’!”

You wake up the next morning to the blaring of your phones ringtone. With a groggy “hello?” You find out you’re being called into work on your one day off this week. Great.

You drag yourself through your morning routine, repeating a mantra to keep yourself sane: It’s just one meeting. Just one. Then I can go back to bed. Shower, clothes, aspirin, keys, coffee—you’re out the door, though the dull ache in your head reminds you of last night’s decisions.

When you finally trudge into the office, you immediately feel a pair of sharp eyes on you. Katsuki’s leaning against the desk, arms crossed, with a barely-there smirk tugging at his lips.

“You look like hell,” he comments, his tone casual but undeniably amused.

“Good morning to you too,” you mutter, gripping your coffee like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“Wasn’t supposed to be,” you reply, sinking into the nearest chair. “But apparently, nobody respects a day off anymore.” “Hah,” he huffs, shaking his head. “You’re too soft. Should’ve told ‘em no.”

You scoff and glance up at him, brows furrowed in annoyance “I’m YOUR interpreter you know damn well you’re the only reason I’m here”

His expression flickers for a moment—something between amusement and slight irritation—but then he leans forward slightly, resting his hands on the desk. “And you get paid for it, so quit whining.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “You know, you could’ve sent someone else today. Let me have one day off.” “Yeah, but they’d screw it up,” he says bluntly, waving off the idea. “You’re the only one who doesn’t piss me off.”

The comment stirs something in you that you wish it wouldn’t— an overwhelming fluttering in your stomach, millions of butterflies rapidly stirring. God, it makes you feel nauseous, but you quickly push those feelings down. because it’s katsuki, that means nothing.. right?

The meeting goes by in a blur, your hands moving on autopilot, barely registering what you’re signing anymore—it’s just second nature at this point. God, you’re so exhausted.

So exhausted, you almost miss the subtle way Katsuki’s hands move to communicate with you.

TIRED, YOU?

You ball your hand into a fist, thumb resting in front of your knuckles and bend your wrist forward twice

YES!

The way you raise your eyebrows, the look on your face, ‘enthusiastic’ YES.

FOOD, OFFICE, LATER?

Lunch. He’s asking about lunch. You were gonna go straight home.. but.

YES.

You find yourself saying yes.

The meeting finally wraps up, and you both shuffle into Bakugo’s office. You’d planned on today being a half day, so you hadn’t even thought to pack a lunch. You silently hope he doesn’t bring it up, because honestly? You don’t have an excuse.

As soon as you step inside, you slump down onto the couch with a heavy sigh, the cushion swallowing you up like it’s begging you to stay. Lifting your hands, you sign lazily:

TODAY, LESSON, NONE, EXHAUSTED.

Bakugo, who’s in the middle of grabbing a water bottle from his mini fridge, glances over at you and smirks. “You look like you’ve been hit by a bus,” he mutters, twisting the cap off the bottle.

You glare at him half-heartedly, lifting your hands again “wow. Thanks, you’re so nice Bakugo!”

You’ve barely gotten the words out before Katsuki is slumping into his chair, leaning back with a heavy sigh. He raises an eyebrow at you, signing with practiced precision

LESSON, NONE? LAZY.

You narrow your eyes at him, too tired to respond with anything clever. Instead, you let out a breathy laugh, flopping your head back against the couch. “Not lazy. Tired. Huge difference.”

NOT, LAZY, TIRED, DIFFERENT

His lips twitch, not quite a smile but close enough, and he lifts his hands again. “Excuses. Weak.”

You let out a fake gasp, dramatically clutching your chest like he’s just wounded you. “Mean.”

You’re giggling to yourself and for a moment the office is filled with a comfortable silence, the type that settles when two people are at ease.

You look at him, a flash of curiosity falling over your face and you mouth opens, your hands move quicker than your brain even thinks “why don’t you want people to know?”

His brows knit together in confusion, he’s not sure if he understood you correctly. “What?.. know.. what?”

“About you” your bring your index finger and tap it on your ear, then your mouth “being deaf”

He doesn’t respond immediately, taking a second to bask in your question, his eyes fall to the floor. When he finally looks at you, there’s something raw in his expression, something he usually keeps hidden behind all his usual gruffness

“It’s not about shame” his hands move simultaneously as he speaks. “I just… I don’t want anyone thinking I’m weak. That they can use it against me. I have to be the strongest.”

You nod, letting his words settle between you. “I get that. But Deaf doesn’t mean weak, Katsuki” you use his first name without even realizing. “It’s not a weakness—it’s a part of you. And it’s…” You hesitate, searching for the right words before finally signing, “It’s beautiful. There’s a whole culture, a whole community, that sees the world differently. You’re part of that, whether you realize it or not.”

His hands fall to his lap, and he studies you with an unreadable expression. “You really believe that?”

You smile softly, your hand touches the side of your forehead with the tips of the fingers ,your hand in a flat shape. “I know that.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, just lets your words linger. Then he lifts his hands again, slower this time, almost timid? “You… make me think about it different-“

He doesn’t finish his sentence, there’s a knock at the door. You glance over as an intern pops their head in, holding a bouquet of flowers so vibrant it practically lights up the dull office.

“Uh, these are for you,” they say, stepping in and handing them to you. “For me?” you ask, confused. You take the flowers, and the intern nods. “Yeah, there’s a note. Looks like your name’s on it.”

Your stomach flips as you glance down at the card tucked between the stems. You open it, reading the handwritten message:

Had a great time meeting you. Would love to see you again. Call me?

There’s a phone number scrawled underneath, and you immediately know who it’s from.

Katsuki, meanwhile, is staring at the flowers like they personally insulted him. “What the hell is that?” he doesn’t bother signing, instead speaking sharply

You feel the flush creeping on the back of your neck as your gaze breaks from the flowers “flowers.. from some guy I met last night”

His jaw tightens, and he leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “Lame” he mutters while shaking his head

That earns an eyebrow raise from you. “Lame? I think it’s sweet

“It’s desperate.” He shoots back almost immediately “don’t call him.” There’s a sternness in his voice that a few weeks ago would’ve given you chills but you can’t help the laugh that flys past your lips.

“Excuse me?”

He won’t repeat himself, instead his eyes narrow and he stands up abruptly, shoving his wallet in his pocket and resuming his signing. “Come on. We’re going to lunch, my treat”

You blink up at him, caught off guard by the sudden change of pace. “What?” “You heard me,” he signs, already heading for the door. “We’re getting lunch. Now.”

You can’t help but laugh as you set the flowers down on his desk, grabbing your bag to follow him. There’s no way he’s jealous, right? but he’s definitely not thrilled about the guy from the bar…and, for some reason, you don’t mind that one bit.

The walk to the café down the block is quiet—well, mostly. Katsuki has his hands shoved into his pockets, his brow furrowed as if deep in thought. You steal a glance at him, trying to read his expression, but he’s impossible to crack.

The café is small and cozy, the kind of place that smells like fresh bread and espresso. Katsuki orders for himself without hesitation, then turns to you with a raised brow, waiting for your choice. When you tell him, he nods and adds it to the order, swiping his card before you can even think about reaching for yours.

As you settle into a booth by the window, you can’t help but notice how relaxed he looks here, away from the office and the weight of his hero persona. He’s still gruff, sure, but there’s something softer about him in this moment.

“So,” you start, signing carefully to make sure he catches every word. “What’s with the sudden lunch invite? You’re not usually this… spontaneous.”

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t read too much into it. You looked like you were about to pass out in my office. Figured food would keep you from keeling over.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, so it’s for my benefit? Not maybe because you might be.. I don’t know.. jealous of some guy from the bar?” You’re teasing, you shouldn’t be but god isn’t it fun?

His smirk falters for a split second, just long enough for you to catch it. He quickly recovers, though, leaning forward to sign, “I’m not jealous. Just don’t like idiots wasting your time.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. “Right,” you sign back, your movements slow and deliberate. “Because you get to decide who’s worth my time.”

“Damn right I do.” His hands move with a confidence that’s almost infuriating. But there’s something else there too, something unspoken that hangs heavy in the air between you.

Before you can even respond, the food arrives, breaking the tension. He begins eating without another word, and you follow suit, though your head is still spinning. There’s no way he doesn’t realize what he’s doing to you…right?

You’re eating together in silence for a few long moments when you see little eyes peering over the table in your peripheral vision. You turn your head to see a little girl, she couldn’t have been older than five. Her big brown eyes bouncing between you and Katsuki like she’s starstruck.

You chuckle softly, nudging Katsuki under the table to get his attention. He glances up, confused, before following your gaze to the little girl.

“What?” he mutters, completely missing her awe-struck expression.

“You’ve got an admirer,” you tease, keeping your voice low. Katsuki frowns, but you wave him off and turn to the girl. “Hi there, sweetheart. Can I help you?”

The girl’s hands start moving as she signs, “I know you! You’re on TV! You talk when Dynamight is on tv!”

Your heart melts instantly. “That’s me,” you sign back with a warm smile. “What’s your name?”

She signs back—“Emma.”

“Hi, Emma. It’s so nice to meet you,” you sign, keeping your movements slow and clear. “Do you want to tell Dynamight something?”

Emma nods eagerly, then hesitates. “I’m deaf,” she signs shyly, looking between you and Katsuki.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” you sign back, giving her a reassuring smile. “Let me get his attention for you.”

You tap Katsuki’s arm, and when he looks up, you sign to him, “You have an admirer” You repeat. He furrows his brows in confusion but glances at Emma, his expression softening slightly when he sees her beaming up at him.

“She’s deaf,” you explain.

Katsuki raises an eyebrow but quickly switches to signing. “Hey, kid.”

Emma gasps, her jaw dropping as she stares at him in shock. “You can sign?!” she signs back, practically bouncing in place. “Oh my gosh, you’re my favorite hero! I didn’t know Dynamight could sign!”

Katsuki huffs, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Course I can sign,” he replies. “How else am I supposed to talk to cool kids like you?”

Emma giggles, her eyes sparkling with admiration. She leans closer, signing quickly, “My mom says I can’t have Dynamight toys because they’re for boys, but I don’t care! You’re still my favorite!”

Katsuki’s eyebrows furrow, and he signs back immediately, “That’s dumb. Dynamight’s for everyone. Tell your mom I said so.”

Emma giggles even harder, glancing back at her mom, who’s watching nervously from across the café.

“Do you fight bad guys every day?” Emma asks, her little hands moving excitedly. Katsuki smirks. “Pretty much. But they’re not as tough as me.”

“You’re so cool! Can I be a hero like you one day?”

Katsuki leans forward slightly, his gaze steady and serious. “Yeah, you can. But only if you promise to work hard. No slacking off.” Emma nods so enthusiastically you’re sure she’s going to tumble over. “I promise!”

You can’t help the warmth blooming in your chest as you watch them. Katsuki, for all his rough edges, is handling this so naturally.

“Thanks for talking to me,” Emma signs after a few more moments of chatting. “You’re the best hero ever!”

Katsuki grins faintly, his hand ruffling her hair briefly. “Go tell your mom you’re cool now ‘cause you met Dynamight. Emma giggles again, waving goodbye to both of you before running back to her table. Her mom mouths a thank you to you, and you nod politely.

“She was adorable,” you say, turning back to Katsuki. “Tch. Kids are annoying,” he grumbles, though there’s a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he picks up his drink.

You shake your head, a soft laugh escaping you. “You’re good with them, you know.”

“Whatever,” he mutters, but his ears are a little red.

You toss onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you as sleep continues to evade you. Your mind drifts back to the scene at the café, playing it over and over again—Katsuki sitting there, so naturally at ease with that little girl, his sharp eyes softening, his movements fluid and comforting. The way he spoke to her, so effortlessly kind, so… genuine.

Your face flushes at the memory, a quiet warmth spreading across your chest. And, of course, he’s fucking good with kids. He’s everything—strong, confident, and… that kindness.. in the way that katsuki can be kind. You can’t help but think about the way he told Emma, the young girl at the café, that she could be a hero—despite her deafness. How he made her feel seen, empowered, strong.

But then, why did he act so differently when it came to himself? Why did he view his own deafness as something to be hidden, something that made him weaker? That’s what he had said, after all—a weakness—when you asked him why he didn’t want anyone to know. And you can’t help but frown, confusion tightening in your chest.

It’s not a weakness at all… not like he thinks. You know that, deep down. Deafness doesn’t make you less—it’s part of who you are. And yet, here he is—someone so capable, so strong, so undeniably powerful—acting like it’s something to hide, something to shy away from.

Why couldn’t he see what you saw? How empowering it could be, how beautiful. How much it could mean to others to have someone like him—someone so fierce—representing that strength.

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, and you shake your head, rolling over onto your other side. Why does he get it for someone else but not for himself?

The frustration eats away at you because Katsuki Bakugo has always been someone who’s never cared what anyone thinks, someone who’s been proud to stand alone, to prove he’s the strongest, to fight for what he believes in without hesitation. So why now? Why does he suddenly feel the need to hide parts of himself from the world?

That’s what gnaws at you—this contradiction in him. He’s fearless, bold, and unapologetically driven… so why, with this, does he shrink away, like it’s something to be hidden or kept separate? You know it’s not shame.

The thought lingers, burning in your mind as you shift restlessly in bed. It gnaws at you—how easy it was for him to tell Emma she could be a hero with her deafness, while he himself clings to the idea that it would make him be seen as less. it doesn’t make sense! Not with someone like him. It’s not about what others think—it’s about what he thinks… and what he’s been telling himself.

You wake up the next morning with a start, blindly feeling around your bed for your phone and when you see the time your stomach drops—you’re late. So late. Of course, after all the tossing and turning you did last night, you didn’t double-check your alarms.

If you’re going to make it only five minutes late, you’ll have to skip breakfast. You throw on clothes, shove whatever else you can into your bag, and practically sprint out of your apartment. With any luck, no one will even notice your absence.

When you finally sneak your way into the office, it’s swarming with press. You make a beeline upstairs, dropping your things at your desk and scanning the chaos for someone who can explain what’s going on. Your confusion must be plastered on your face because a passing intern mumbles, “Last-minute press conference,” as they rush by.

You nod in understanding, silently cursing the timing. Of course today, when you look like you got ready in five minutes—because you did—is the day you’re interpreting on live television.

You barely have a second to process the chaos before someone’s calling your name, a frazzled assistant waving you over. “Y/n! We’re live in five!”

Perfect. Just what you needed. You rush to a mirror, smoothing down your hair and attempting to make yourself look somewhat presentable. There’s no fixing the bags under your eyes or the crease in your shirt, but you do your best.

By the time you make it downstairs to the press area, Katsuki’s already standing at the podium, arms crossed and his usual scowl plastered on his face. His sharp eyes flicker to you the moment you walk in, and you swear you see the faintest hint of amusement in them.

“’Bout time,” he mutters under his breath as you take your spot across from him, beside the speaker for the agency. You shoot him a glare and roll your eyes. You don’t even have time for some witty remark, you’re frantically trying to smooth down your shirt.

As the cameras start rolling and the reporters quiet down, you slip into work mode, your hands moving fluidly as you translate his speech. But in the back of your mind, you can’t stop thinking about how, even now, he’s managing to get under your skin. And, annoyingly, how much you don’t mind.

Your distraction is evident, the signs are messy and your brains all over the place, there’s a pause in dialogue as the audience is directed to view something on the screen and you take a breath, so frazzled you almost missed Bakugo trying to get your attention off camera

RELAX

he signs, his expression calm but firm, his sharp eyes meeting yours. You start to shake your head as if to say I can’t, I’ve barely had time to breathe and I look like I barely slept

And it’s like he reads your mind.

YOU, PRETTY.

you practically choke on air, as you watch him, You try to keep your composure because—oh, right—you’re still live. Your heartbeat quickens as his hands move one more time, his gaze steady.

ALWAYS.

He looks away with a smug expression his face unreadable to anyone else, but the moment feels unbearably intimate—more than you want it to be. His message is meant just for you, spoken in a language only the two of you in the room understand.

But you don’t have time to unpack that right now, you’re working. You take a breath, as much as his words stirred up the most confusing emotions they also comforted you, you’re fine. This is the job you love, the job you’re great at.

The press conference ends without any further hiccups, your hands moving fluidly through the signs as you finish the broadcast. You can feel Bakugo’s presence, and while you’d never admit it, the occasional glances he throws your way seem to steady you more than anything else.

As the room clears out and the camera lights dim, you exhale a sigh of relief, rubbing your temples. You don’t even notice Bakugo stepping closer until he’s right next to you, arms crossed, an unreadable look on his face.

“You good now?” he asks, his tone softer than you expected, though he still looks more smug than concerned.

“I’m fine,” you reply, a bit defensive, standing straighter. “It’s just… it’s been a morning.”

“Tch, no kidding,” he mutters before his eyes narrow slightly. “But you pulled it together.”

You glance at him, surprised by the unexpected compliment. “Thanks, I guess.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment before he signs, slow and deliberate, like he wants you to really pay attention.

YOU, STRONG. ALWAYS.

You feel your heart skip a beat, your mind replaying the earlier moment from the press conference. He doesn’t look away this time, holding your gaze like he’s daring you to argue.

And you want to. You want to tell him you don’t feel strong right now, that everything’s a mess, that he can’t just say things like that and expect you to be fine. But you can’t. The intensity in his eyes stops you.

Instead, you swallow thickly and sign back: THANK YOU.

He gives a small nod, satisfied, before turning and walking toward the door. Just before he leaves, he throws over his shoulder, “Don’t be late again.”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself throwing you hands up to sign a quick, “Thanks for the pep talk, boss.”

You don’t need to see his face to know he’s smirking as he leaves.

And you hate the way that smirk affects you because you know he knows he’s pretty, and you know he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. It’s infuriating. That stupid, cocky grin lingers in your mind even after he’s gone, making your blood boil and your chest tighten all at once.

You slump back into your chair, running a hand down your face. It’s exhausting, being around him. Not just because of the work or the constant press conferences, but because he has this way of getting under your skin in ways you didn’t even think were possible.

It’s not fair. It’s him. Katsuki Bakugo. The man who scowls at everything, talks like every word is a challenge, and somehow still manages to have moments where he’s thoughtful, protective, and… sweet? Ugh. You hate it.

You hate how he’s in your head. But the worst part?

You’re starting to think he knows that, too.

—

A/n: yayy pt 2 finally! Part 3 coming soon (next few days!)

Tags: @poemeater @beebunsx @mimzyu @beabamboo

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧’ 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞.

cw: squirting, p in v, teacher kink, slapping.

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚

another day rolls by and you’re in a chemistry lesson, the material seeming unable to permeate your brain. all this talk about acids and types of reactions is not doing it for you this wednesday afternoon. yet you still try to get notes down from the lesson, wanting to consolidate your knowledge. the sky is settling into a mellow blue to match the mellow hue in the students’ hearts. you’re just looking forward to this day being over.

a soft thud of a paper lands on your desk. you blink and glance up. it’s your teacher, giving you that smile that’s part-pity, part-apology. group project time. from the moment you could think, you’ve hated group projects. having to slow your roll so you’re on board with the rest. having to stay quiet so they don’t complain that you’re too bossy. having to let people research things incorrectly, therefore reducing the validity of your assignment and lowering your score. you think it’s a stupid thing to have to go through. it would be much more effective if you just did it on your own.

in some classes you get lucky and the teachers let you work on your own, in other cases, no students partner up with you and you’re left as the odd one out.

what? it’s not pathetic. you chose this.

acid-base reactions in everyday life.

seems simple enough. you begin to get ready to put your head down and start your research, until “need someone on your team?” a cheery voice says to you from above. looking up from your papers you see the owl-like boy, with his frosted tips, who is smiling so widely. then you look behind him and notice oikawa and kuroo, the two shitheads who are also grinning.

a simple ‘no’ is all you say, before turning your attention back to the homework sheet which is explaining the assignment.

“please?” oikawa says, the three of them inch towards you, it’s almost scary.

“no. go away.” you say again, rejecting their advances. they sure are persistent.

“go away? did you hear that?” oikawa says shocked. you don’t even have to look to guess that he’s dramatically placing his hand on his chest and looking offended. you just shift your body towards the wall and away from them.

“I totally just heard that.” kuroo responds.

bokuto chimes in too, adding to their nonsense.“that is no way to talk to someone.”

“ugh. what do you want from me?” you finally say, turning back to look at them but visibly annoyed. most classmates would have left you alone by now. but not these ones.

“we want to be in your group.” bokuto states, his hands on his hips, highlighting his physique underneath his shirt.

“what?” you ask, “wouldn’t you say you would want me to join your group? since you’re actually a group?” they collectively appear slightly defeated at your statement.

“exactly. we need someone smart like you so we can understand the content.” bokuto says, justifying his previous statement.

you chuckle, looking at your paper again, “i am not falling for that. you just want me in your group so i do all your work for you, an that’s not happening.”

“isn’t that what you were going to do anyway?” oikawa asks.

“i was but, it’s different if i was only doing the work for myself to begin with. i am not your slave. our agreement didn’t say i had to do your homework too.”

“careful how you speak missy.” kuroo says, and you bite your tongue. your teacher is looking at you, maybe in hope. maybe thinking to herself, ‘finally this girl is able to get people she will tolerate in her group’- and though you don’t really care to let her down like that, a voice in the back of your head reminds you that the teacher writes your references for you. if they all collectively write about how antisocial you are that is bound to leave the colleges with bad tastes in their mouths. so you smile. you swallow it all down—the bad feeling you’re getting from this, the voice in your head screaming ‘NO! NO!’—and reluctantly allow them.

“you can join my group if you’d like.”

one point for their team.“that’s great. isn’t that great guys?” oikawa says.

“so great.” kuroo responds. they all pull out chairs and sit around you, prepared for your first instruction, yet all you can think is please leave me alone.

flipping the sheet, you begin to create a list of things for everyone to do. these morons would not be able to sort it out for the life of them. although your actions are pointless and the risk is far greater than the reward, you try anyway. “whatch’a doing?” bokuto asks in your ear, his body pressed up against you, dangerously close, as he invades your personal space. that alone is enough for you to snap, but you take a second to push down your emotions again and keep calm.

“making a list.”

“why?”

“so you know what to do.”

“can’t you just tell us?”

you have to stop yourself from strangling him and ripping his head off. he’s too close so the idea is tempting.

“if i just tell you, someone may forget, then it’s up to me to fix the missing work like the night before.”

“woah. why is the finish time in 1 week and not 2?” he exclaims, placing a finger on your estimated finish date. this news causes the two boys to perk up.

“because if i don’t keep you guys on a schedule, all hell will break lose. that is not happening. not under my watch. hey-” your planning sheet gets snatched by kuroo, and both him and oikawa inspect it from the other side of the table.

“you cannot expect us to do all this per day.” kuroo says, your face heats up from embarrassment, “there’s no need. just take it slow like everyone else.” he pushes his sheets towards you and it nearly flies off the table, before placing his hands lazily behind his head.

“we aren’t like everyone else. that’s why i’m me and they’re them.” you explain, avoiding eye contact.

“okay, but we’re not you-” oikawa starts but you interrupt him.

“my group. my rules. you said you wanted to join my group after all didn’t you?”

silence. that’s what i thought.

“okay great, now all of you hold unto your piece of paper, if you lose it i will execute you. do not try me.” you explain, cutting of the pieces of paper with a ruler, then distributing it.

“damn girl. can’t we just have a little bit of fun?” oikawa asks, crossing his arms on the desk and laying his head on them.

“school is not fun.” you say blatantly. that’s an obvious fact.

“no way. from the way you treat it, i thought that you threatening boys to do their work in a week gave you a rush.” kuroo jokes. this causes the other boys to chime in as well.

“yeah i thought you were all like, ‘can’t wait to go to my next class.’ “

“waking up all happy and shit before school.” bokuto laughs, slapping his hand on the table loudly. the loud sound draws the teacher’s attention towards your desk and you quickly give her a reassuring smile.

“believe it or not, i am a normal person. i’m just taking school seriously because i wan’t to have a life when i grow up. you know, outside of forcing girls to do whatever they want for you.”

the laughter from before completely dies down. there isn’t a hint of giggling in the air. there’s been a shift in mood.

“so do you like have a teacher kink? do they get you all hot and flustered?” a shift in mood that bokuto does not pick up on. the question alone has your eyes widening ever so slightly. you’re scared someone in your class has heard that. you kick bokuto and keep your head down, staring at the piece of paper in front of you.

“we cannot be talking about this right now and no. please shut up.”

“Hmm, fuck yea.” you sigh, bokuto’s hand placed firmly on the small of your back as he pounds you down into the desk table.

okay, it’s true. you hate to admit it, but you do have a teacher kink. it’s scary how well he guessed that especially after he got everything else wrong. they really do get you all hot and flustered, which is a shameful thing to say but it’s true. “there’s a good girl, do you wanna answer my next question now?” he asks, lifting your head off the desk with one hand, admiring your fucked dumb face. it’s after school hours and the student council has just finished. bokuto made it crucial to be right on time, swooping right through the doors as soon as you opened them.

“what do you want?” you spit, irritated that you had to end off your day seeing one of those useless boys.

“woah can i not come and meet my project partner and ask her for help on the tasks she assigned me?” he asked innocently, leaning against the door with one arm as the rest of the council filed out of the room.

with an annoyed huff you agree, “fine, but make it quick.” and that’s how it started, with him enquiring about the project, sitting on your office chair watching with wide eyes, and you leaning against the edge of the table. from him sliding his hands up your thigh, the infamous distraction point, and getting you flustered, to getting you to lay on the table, flipping your skirt over as well.

the oak table beneath helps to cool you down as your body heats up from this exertion. “now tell me something else that we learnt this chemistry lesson.” he instructed, his large hand smoothing over the flesh of your ass, soothing it from his previous slaps. you would answer his question, easily, but it’s getting hard to focus when he seems to be reaching deeper than before because your leg is propped up on the table.

“um,” you squeak, clawing at the table as though that would help you gain mental clarity. “there are… um.. fuck. there are acids and metal reactions too.” you’re barely able to get that sentence out and white head decides that it’s not enough.

“you’re my prime student, i’m sure you can do better than that.” he says smoothly. you’re ticked off that he thinks and says things so smoothly without it having to require 80% of your brain power to generate a sentence. “can you do better than that?” he asks, giving your ass a firm squeeze.

“mhfuck. yes.”

“yes, who?”

“yes sir. um when acids and metals react they- they can make umm, they make-” your head drops down, hot forehead touching the cool table. “i’m close. i’m close.” you respond breathlessly.

“that’s not the answer.” he laughs, finding your state amusing. “even i know that.” dramatically slowing down his thrusts and landing a harsh slap on your ass. you feel your eyes glossing over with tears, overwhelmed by sensations.

“no don’t slow down again. don’t stop.” you cry, your cheek staining with your tears.

“answer my question then, what do they make when they react?”

“they make salt and hydrogen gas!”

he takes a brief moment to think,“shii, i don’t know the answer to that one either so imma give it to you.” you mentally scream in frustration at his response, you went through all that mental fatigue only for him to not know.

“you wanna come baby girl?” he asks, sliding his hand up to the side of your hip.

“yes, fuck yes, please.”

“you really have got a foul mouth. i better train that habit out of you next time. but i guess you deserve this.” his thrusts grow sloppier as he gets close too. sound of the table rocking and scraping the floor, fill up the room. you’re quivering and shuddering as he repeatedly hits your g-spot. you feel like you’re in a different dimension, and with the final thrust, his tip brushes against your cervix. you feel like you’re in heaven.

“yes, fuck, oh god, yes right there!” you exclaim, your body surging with pleasure. “oh my gosh, didjust pee?”

“no, but you did squirt though,” he replies, amused, parts of his sports jersey soaked,a wide smirk on his face.

⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚

(please send a dm or comment on my the pinned blog to join.)

taglist: @slutkoo

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[babygirllinds]

Ahhh i'm so excited for Mav's reward in let me teach you! 😍 also ice bringing up the book while mav's all hot and bothered hahahaha evil dom.

Ice didn’t want to be mean, but when push comes to shove 👀

Mav is in for a fun night for sure. As I put in my WIP Masterlist description, he finds out about the joys of being a rope bunny *evil cackling* can’t wait to get this out to y’all 🫡 here’s something small bc I love y’all 🥰

Pete can’t move. Not really. His legs are free and he could kick out if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. Tom told him to stay still when he took his wrists and bound them snugly in the black silky rope and he wanted to listen — be good for Tom.

[starstruckmoony]

Hi, could I request a enemies to lovers with Enzo? Love your writing :))

tysm for the request anon!! i am so so sorry for taking ages to post this but i got veryyyyyy carried away and it may or may not be too long BUT i hope you enjoy it and that it's similar enough to what you imagined &lt;3

king of my heart.

masterlist , requests

pairing - lorenzo berkshire x reader

summary - you and lorenzo are both sore, jealous losers with egos the size of jupiter, so you decide that you hate one another and that academic competing is the way to go. you keep that up for six full years, until something rather unfortunate happens and destroys your entire game plan.

trope/tags - enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, angst, fluff

word count - 12.8k

warnings - language, smoking

if there was one thing every single person who ever crossed your path knew about you, even if you were barely acquainted, was that you had sort of been raised without the ability to accept that you cannot always come out on top. it was simply incomprehensible. you'd been told that you were a gifted kid from the moment you became aware of your pathetic little existence. it did wonders to your ego. your smarts and determination amused your tutors, petrified them even. and the better you got, the more motivation it sparked in you.

you intended to keep things going your way when your acceptance letter for hogwarts arrived in the mail. you weren't worried, not even a little bit, and neither were your parents. being the best of the best was a running thing in your family.

unsurprisingly, it couldn't have started off better. your professors loved you. other kids envied you. each essay and exam result you'd ever recieved was the textbook definition of perfect. your grades were nicer that aphrodite's reflection in the mirror, as hermione had told you once. it was a lot coming from her. she was also amongst the few of the smartest, most hardworking students in your year, but you never felt threatened by her, or anybody else for that matter. there was, weirdly, no jealousy. on her part, at least, considering you so very effortlessly secured your spot as top of the class and never let anybody take it. she'd always be happy for you like the good friend she was, proudly patting you on the back, yet you couldn't help but think if she ever felt a little angry behind that supportive smile of hers.

and funny enough, you were finally able to stop pretending to know what it was like one fine wednesday before the christmas holidays. you had come into class more confident than ever that morning, smugly waiting for your potions essay results. you were hoping for a hundred, but a ninety nine, maybe even a ninety eight, didn't seem so bad either. that would have been, if lorenzo berkshire hadn't got his essay back with a score better than yours. he, much like yourself, was just another sore loser who craved academic validation like a drug, silently fuming whenever somebody surpassed him. he had dealt it with for months, watching you ace everything from charms to transfiguration, and always being second to you. the jealousy consumed his entire being, and he was kind of going mental, so you one could only imagine how ecstatic he was when he saw your face twist with dread after snape praised him in front of everybody. he wouldn't have hidden that mocking grin on his face if you held a knife to his throat and it made you want to choke him to death, for lack of better term.

"l/n." he sang as he successfully caught you in the corridor right after the said lesson. twat. you ignored him and increased the speed of your steps, biting the inside of your cheek, so hard that it began to sting. you didn't instantaneously realise how desperate he was to get your attention, but it became a lot clearer when he stood in front of you, entirely blocking your path. your little attempts to confuse him and avoid the situation were useless. it was kind of pathetic.

"what do you want?" simply shoving him to the ground and acting like it never happened would have done the job, but god forbid you swallowed your pride for once. 

"c'mon, don't be so pissy, i'm just trying to make conversation." you saw right through him, anyone would. him? wanting to make conversation with you? after death-glaring you every lesson for three months straight? and then bursting your bubble and being so smug about it? you almost scoffed, "you're in my way."

"oh, my apologies." he moved to the side and bowed dramatically, waiting for you to leave. you rolled your eyes, and took a single step forward, just to have him come right back to his original spot.

"move." you tried to shove him and even attempted to run for it, but he was faster than you. your nostrils flared, "you know that today was just dumb luck, right?" you crossed your arms, thinking you'd get under his skin, but there was no sign of change on his face. on the contrary, he was more accomplished than ever. you were fuming.

"i wouldn't call it that." he tilted his head to the side, observing your face.

"alright then," you copied his movements, "plagiarism?" his smile fell a little. it made you a lot happier than it should have. you expected victory from that senseless squabble, but lorenzo wasn't the type of person who backed down so easily. that was something you should have known.

"you're projecting." he shrugged, blankly staring at you.

"projecting?" you almost stuttered.

"projecting. pick up a dictionary, yeah?" he gave your head a tiny pat, and left you standing in the hallway, dumbfounded, angry, and a little humiliated.

that moment alone set off a feud that changed the trajectory of your miserable lives forever. each time he did better than you, whether it was on an essay, an exam, flying lessons even, your urge to wipe his existence of the face of the earth got stronger. the feelings were mutual on his part. you went back and forth like that for a while, trying not to be that obvious about it, but one could only hide their true feelings for so long.

it started off with hushed insults, which got strategically thrown around every time you'd cross each other's path. having other people notice your diminishing confidence was proper nightmare fuel, so you kept it as subtle as possible. then it turned into shoving and pushing, which was enough to set off some alarm bells in the heads of your friends. neville had told you that it wasn't worth it, and draco, of all fucking people, had told lorenzo to tone it down, but you refused to listen. you offered a few empty promises, saying that you'll sort it out sooner or later (sort out as in make sure you never let lorenzo get a score higher than yours again, but that was not going to happen).

your sooner or later turned into a few godawfully long years. saying you hated him may have seemed like an overstatement, but there was no other way to describe that burning feeling of i want to fucking kill you that entirely took over you whenever you laid your eyes on him. it kept getting worse and worse, without you realising just how bad it had become. your little competitions had completely lost their significance. it didn't matter who was first anymore. it could be ron or pansy, and you wouldn't bat an eye. all you cared about was surpassing each other, even if you were among the average with your scores.

that being said, it became an open secret of sort. as stupid as you made your classmates out to be, they were not, and they quickly put the missing puzzle pieces together. one of them spread a rumour that you tried to kill lorenzo, or vice versa, you couldn't really remember. and frankly, you couldn't blame them. you had given them more than enough reasons to think that you hated his guts. the most ridiculous instance had to have been the one during potions class when snape assigned you to work together. you could have placed a bet of two million galleons that he did it on purpose. it was like he wanted you to fail.

lorenzo had managed to insult you before he even took a seat at your table, calling you too stupid to work with in front of the entire class. you told him that he was a daft idiot when he unwillingly slumped down into the empty seat next to you, which had only set him off more. you accepted your fates almost immediately, knowing that whatever task snape assigned to you wouldn't be done, even if it cost you your grades.

just like you predicted, you did everything but what you were supposed to; spilled every sort of liquid there was all over each other's things, broke a few glasses, set two notebooks on fire, and burnt a hole in the table. you had stuck him to his chair, too, and lost a few house points as a result.

***

a sane person would have reached a certain point and stopped, pushing all of those stupid grudges aside. forgive and forget, that whole talk. hopelessly, your friends thought you would have got over it as you were growing older and that you would have chosen basic human decency over some hurt feelings and an insignificant competition no one gave a shit about. but no. you were not sane. you were ruthless, and you continued trying to make each other miserable like your lives depended on it. you hated lorenzo berkshire, and he hated you just as much. you were too naive and caught up in it all to realise that it'll come right back for you later.

it was like some sick obsession. from obvious sabotaging during classes whenever you got assigned to work together (followed by unsatisfactory results you blamed the other for) to throwing insults at each other in the corridors where everybody was set to hear you, you had checked every single one off.

you called him a useless arsehole on a daily basis. he called you an insufferable bitch every time he saw you. you had cursed out each other during lessons and done even worse things when nobody was looking. and if anyone did see you and try to get involved and call you names, it was bad news for them. you were each other's enemies to insult and demean and degrade and ruthlessly bully, nobody else's. only you were allowed to call him a cockroach, and only he was allowed to call you a snake. your relationship with lorenzo was nothing you could explain to somebody with a fully functioning brain, even if you tried.

one night in your fifth year, you had successfully snuck out in search of some sort encyclopaedia to help you out with your DADA assignment. none of the books which you were allowed to use did good enough of a job at making it easier, so you were hoping that the restricted section would have something better to offer - which it did. you couldn't recall the last time your trip to the library was that short.

to make things even better, you successfully avoided bumping into an annoying brunette who made your life oh so entertaining (unbearable). lorenzo wasn't anywhere to be seen. you smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of freedom at last. you were praying that the prick got bored of looming around the corridors all alone like a loser, waiting to terrorise you.

you began humming a tune you heard dean play on his old gramophone (one that got confiscated), and skipped around the corner to make your way to the grand staircase. mistake number one. you tripped over something, someone, but managed to stay on your feet as opposed to falling face-first onto the ground. you didn't even have to look back to know who it was.

"my, my, out rebelling again?" lorenzo leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, smirking in satisfaction when he noticed how you were grimacing. he stepped on one of the books you dropped, refusing to move when you tried to snatch it back.

"do you mind?" you spat, aggressively pulling it from under his foot. you straightened out your clothes and dusted yourself off before tucking the literature you had picked up under your arm.

"stealing?" he raised an eyebrow.

"borrowing." you corrected.

"without permission?" he tilted his head to the side in faux amusement, "i wonder what would happen if i alerted a professor about this."

"and you'd tell them what?" you scoffed, barely able to hold your laughter in, "that you saw me stealing while you were sneaking out to go for a casual wank?" what a fucking idiot. you rolled your eyes, turning away from him with the intention to walk away from the scene. you were not in the mood for his bullshit.

"yeah, yeah, run away like you always do." he uttered in disappointment, yawning. he knew exactly which buttons to push, and it wasn't surprising. you were familiar with each other's habits and emotions more than you'd like to admit. you stopped in your tracks. sighing, you set the books down onto the stone tiles, and spun around to face him once again.

"aguamenti." you cast the spell with an evil smile, and in a matter of seconds, a wave of water was shot straight in lorenzo's direction, leaving him soaking wet. he gasped out in shock; his clothes clung to his body. the water was unbearably cold, it was so fucking freezing, he could barely move. the commotion was noisy enough to alert filch and his beloved ms. norris, but those were the last of your worries. your felt rather fulfilled, that was what mattered.

"you asked for it." you shrugged, but did not turn your back on him just yet. that would have been the easiest way for him to attack, so you mistakenly waited, thinking he would strike for you. he dug his wand out of his pocket, and muttered a spell, "vermiculus."

you whipped your head in the direction in which he pointed his hand, realising what happened a second too late. he had turned your precious books into worms. you yelped in surprise and stepped away from the disgusting mess on the ground, your back bumping into his chest. you turned to face him and gave him a harsh push, backing him up into the wall and shoving your wand into his face.

"uncast it." you demanded. he laughed. how stupid did you have to be to even think that he'd listen to you, "no."

"berkshire." your words came out louder than expected. you wouldn't have been shocked if you saw a teacher coming around the corner to reprimand the both of you for looming around so late, but you didn't care.

"undo the damn spell." you repeated, just about ready to strangle him if you deemed it necessary.

"no." he pushed you away and took a hold of his own wand. he tried to disarm you, but failed miserabley. two could play at that game, then "stupif-"

"what's going on here?" filch's scratchy voice stopped you mid-spell. your head snapped towards him, and you instinctively stuck your wand inside of your clothes as if he hadn't already seen it. being too preoccupied by trying to come up with an explanation that you hadn't previously used to get yourself out of trouble, you had forgotten about the slimy creatures crawling on the floor. a worm wiggled towards you, too close for comfort, and you scrambled to get away, clumsily bumping into lorenzo once again. he gave you a somewhat gentle shove to get you away, and you kicked him in response, right in the shin.

"she tried to drown me." he explained with an irritated groan, rubbing the sore spot on his leg.

"he destroyed school property." you added dramatically, wishing to kick him one more time. filch's eyes trailed over to the filth beside your feet, and he made a face of disgust before instructing you both to follow him to dumbledore's office.

the whole ordeal ended with the books being safely returned to their spot on the shelves of the restricted section, a half-assed DADA assignment and the two of you getting put on bathroom cleaning duty for seven days straight (no magic allowed). it was probably the biggest mistake of dumbledore's life.

the bathrooms were not cleaned properly once. in fact, they'd only end up in conditions which were about ten times worse than their default ones. lorenzo was too busy spilling bucketfuls of water, dirty or clean, all over you to care whether he scrubbed the junk off every single sink there was (payback for the stunt you pulled on him in the corridor), and you were too busy hitting him with funny smelling toilet brushes (made sure you got all that rubbish into his hair, too) to polish the tiles and mirrors to perfection like you were told to do. it was disgusting and sickeningly entertaining at once. dumbledore considered punishing you with some other method, but gave up seeing what the boys' toilets looked like after night four. not even detention was able to come between the two of you. limits and common sense weren't either.

***

in your sixth year, the unimaginable happened. there wasn't a single soul who saw it coming, not even yourselves. maybe it was magic. maybe it was a sign from the universe. maybe some higher power did everybody justice. whatever it was, it sent your professors into a spiral. their shitty damage control was finally paying off, as cruel as it turned out to be.

classes had become increasingly more difficult than they were in previous years. to follow, to manage, to keep track of, and everything in between. mcgonagall had pulled you outside twice, asking you what was wrong after she had noticed that you were falling behind. many of your peers were, actually, but nobody would have ever expected it from you. the results you'd achieve weren't always as perfect as they were in your first year, though you had never struggled to get past eighty points until then. it was singlehandedly the worst thing that could have ever happened to you. priorities were hard to sort out, so there was a noticeable decline in your performance. you were absolutely miserable, and it did not get better, only worse. so bad that you had forgotten that you had a certain slytherin to compete with.

it was the day before halloween night, lessons had come to an end. your friends scattered around different places – some to the great hall, some to hogsmeade, some headed straight to bed, all intending to clear their minds after a stressful week of difficult assignments and dreadfully challenging essays. nearly every student left the transfiguration classroom with a relieved smile, happy that even their low scores ensured them a pass. hermione got a ridiculous amount of praise for her outstanding results, and even an encouraging pat on the back from mcgonagall.

so, a wonderful end of october for everybody but yourself. your expectations weren't high when you handed your toughest essay in. you thought you'd get sixty points at best. not hoping for much, yet still trying to ignore the worst possible outcome - one that was bound to get you someday like proper karma. but that wouldn't actually happen, would it? there was no way. it was impossible. you felt like a bloody idiot.

you failed. you fucking failed. for the first time in your life. and it was much more humiliating than you had imagined. you were so upset with yourself that you hadn't even bothered to pester lorenzo about his results, and strangely, he hadn't approached you either. no glances, no death glares, no hushed insults. not during the lesson, not after.

you left the transfiguration classroom trying your hardest not to cry, ignoring all of your friends and wishing to get out of the castle as soon as possible. you needed to be alone. you weren't looking for anybody's comfort, validation or their empty words of sympathy that would lose their meaning the moment you fixed the mess you were in. so you went to the black lake; where very little people preferred spending time, where you could be at peace with your own thoughts, and where you could catch a much needed break, even if it was only for a little while.

you slumped down onto the grass with a thump, bringing your knees up to your chest and letting your tears fall. you failed. for merlin's sake, you failed. it was like everything you had ever known was suddenly gone. you weren't even worried about what your parents or professors would say. truthfully, you couldn't give less of a damn. you were so disappointed that you had blocked out everything and everyone else, or whatever stupid opinion and solutions they might have had to offer. everyone, except for lorenzo and that dumb game you two were, for an even dumber reason, still playing. he must have been oh so happy to hear about your failure. he'd never let you live it down, you knew it.

"l/n?" speak of the fucking devil. he always had fantastic timing.

"get out of my sight before i throw you into the lake." you spat, wiping your tear-stained face with your sleeve, not looking at him.

"shiver me timbers." he sang, not feeling threatened at all.

"berkshire." you warned, turning your head towards him and meeting his gaze. you shouldn't have moved. worry flashed through his face for a brief moment when he caught a glimpse your puffy eyes, and he pressed his lips together, guilty. could he actually bring himself to pester you while you were in such a terrible condition? no, he couldn't, regardless of the resentment he felt towards you.

he cleared his throat and took a step closer. you sighed, staring back at the landscape spread out in front of you without uttering a word, "what happened?" he questioned hesitantly.

"nothing that concerns you." you attempted to shut him down. he raised both of his eyebrows, a little amused, "someone upset my favourite rival," he scoffed, "of course it concerns me."

you rolled your eyes, "just leave, will you?" but did you really want him to? your voice shook as you spoke. you despised the part of you that was wishing for him to stay. you wanted to be alone more than anything, but you knew you'd break down again if he listened to your plea and left you there. you'd take his overused insults over failure any day.

"not until you tell me what happened." your jaw clenched, and you muttered a quiet curse, knowing that he most likely wouldn't let up. as if that one would miss out on an opportunity to annoy you. he settled down in the grass, right next to you, waiting.

you sat in silence for what felt like forever. he didn't push you to speak again, and you were pretty reluctant to say a single thing. not even calling him names seemed tempting. you sighed for the nth time, starting to tear up again, "i got my essay back with thirty points." you sniffled, silently preparing yourself to get made fun of.

"fuck," you heard him mumble, and he scratched his head shortly before speaking, "if it makes you feel better, i got twenty eight." getting on your nerves was always in his best interest. although, having to see you so seriously upset was not on his bucket list, not anymore. you stared at him in shock, frowning, "what?"

he nodded. the look on his face was so sullen that you were starting to believe him, "are you not taking the piss?"

he snorted, "i wish i was," he avoided your gaze, "i, uh," he pursed his lips in thought, letting out a breath of frustration, "i was convinced i'd do well even if i started last minute... without research, but uh, guess i was wrong." you hummed, doubtful.

"why are you telling me all this?" you shook your head and trailed your eyes back to the lake, finding it rather difficult to believe that he was being so... nice. it was your first normal conversation and you had no clue what to make of it.

"who else am i supposed to tell it to?" he responded, annoyed. you bit the inside of your cheek, just as irritated, picking up a pebble. you examined it shortly before throwing it into the water.

lorenzo watched you curiously, having very little to say, which was terribly weird in itself. lorenzo berkshire not having a single unnecessary, offending comment to offer? your failures had truly taken a toll on you, completely.

"i can't believe we both fell off." you said in wonder, throwing another rock below the surface.

"right," he agreed, without an urge to backtalk, "fucking hell, i've no reason to hate you now." he blurted out, horrified by his own words.

"fantastic, now i suck at that too." you let out a dry, emotionless chuckle. you weren't crying anymore, just silently fuming at lorenzo for being the one to stop it without even properly trying.

"you suck at everything." he corrected.

"i take after you." you retorted nonchalantly.

"dumbass." he bit back a smile.

"dickhead." you were struggling just as hard. holding in your laughter was never more challenging, but you were determined not to break character.

you found yourselves in an eerily comfortable silence. by the looks of it, things would be alright. knowing that he messed up too somehow put you at ease. not even because you were happy to him fail, but more at the thought that it just happened to be at the same time as you. you found a certain dose of comfort in it. it was written in the stars, as it seemed.

"get lost now." you broke the bubble you found yourselves in. it was about time you got back on track. there was no way you'd get all friendly and gushy with him, even after whatever that was.

"alright, alright." he stood up, groaning as he did so. he dusted off the pieces of grass that got stuck to his trousers.

he stared back at the lake shortly, waiting to see if you'd say anything else he could offer a witty response to. he was a bit sad when you didn't, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, sighing, "well, i shall see you-"

"never." you finished that for him.

"perfect." he added, turning on his heel and heading towards the castle. you allowed yourself to glimpse at him one last time, simply not being able to let him have the last word.

"you've got some on your arse." you were talking about the remainder of the grass that was stuck to his clothing. he stopped to clean it up, and then flipped you off wordlessly.

you thought that was the last of your civilised interactions. there was no reason for you to bore your mind with it. you happened to fall behind at the same time and it gave you a decent bonding moment, but it was nothing more than that. just two people who claimed they didn't like one another very much talking properly for once. nothing, it was nothing. simple as that. so you weren't able to pinpoint why you kept looking back on it nearly every day, or why you felt so guilty for calling him stupid and useless, or why making fun of him for getting a lower score than you wasn't rewarding anymore, or why competing so fiercly was no longer satisfactory. and why he too, happened to feel just the same. maybe you had grown out of it.

you blamed it on the stress. you did have lots of different things occupying your mind anyway - such as your major arithmancy exam that you decided to pull an all nighter for.

for the first time in a while, you stayed inside the library past closing hours. madam pince wasn't too happy about it, but she liked you enough to let you crash there and warned filch not to throw you outside if he happened to notice you during his nightly patrol. the woman had some interesting tactics up her sleeve, none of which you ever questioned.

you swore, probably for the tenth time in the past two minutes, crumpling up yet another piece of parchment. you had to start over a ridiculous amount of times. the pile of rubbish on the floor was growing larger by the second. ripped up paper, bottles of ink, broken feathers, it was definitely a sight. there was no way you were getting through all of that on your own. and oh how that angered you. you rarely ever needed assistance with anything, but this was just a little bit above your level. that enraged you even more. a helping hand was starting to sound promising.

"you're still here?" you didn't even flinch, knowing all too well who that voice belonged to. did god or the devil just answer your prayers? you never got past your little habits of leaving the dormitories to do whatever there was to be done around the castle almost every night, so there he went, running into you again. lorenzo peeked out from behind the bookshelves in front of you, smiling like a little kid who was just about to do something egregiously silly. you couldn't not grin back, despite being angry.

"you're still here?" you repeated his question, crossing your arms.

"i asked first." he moved towards your desk, pulling out an empty chair and settling there next to you without even asking if you wanted him there. weird, that one.

"alright, and?" you teased further. he bumped your shoulder with his own. he wanted something. punching him suddenly sounded like a fine option. he looked over your arm to examine your notes.

"arithmancy?" he glared at you, kind of bemused. it was another subject he was that awfully good at, unlike you. you weren't terrible, but not exactly the best either. an infuriating thing.

"my favourite." you responded sarcastically, throwing your quill across the table. he hummed, sitting back in his chair, but not taking his eyes off of you. he definitely wanted something.

"what?" you could sense it already. he was gonna mock you again.

"do you need help with that, perhaps?" or maybe not. you looked at him, skeptical.

"from you?" you raised an eyebrow.

"well, i mean, yeah." he shifted in his spot, as if he was anxious. you did a double take, and then burst out laughing, wiping away a non-existent tear. he was just too damn funny. him helping you? that was a good one. you carried on with that little performance of yours for the next minute until it hit you that he wasn't joking.

"are you serious?" you asked, just to confirm. there was absolutely no chance.

"look, i can leave-" he stood up, "no," you grabbed a fistful of his sweater and pulled him back down. he yelped, startled, "what's your deal?" you weren't letting him get away with that so easily.

"what do you mean?" he was geniuenly confused.

"don't play fucking dumb," you jabbed a finger into his chest, "why are you being so kind to me all of a sudden?"

he laughed uncomfortably, scratching the nape of his neck, "well, i thought, you know, since it seems like we're no longer on about hating each other, that-"

"oh." you interrupted him, chuckling in disbelief. you shook your head, rubbing your temples in frustration and then letting your arms fall to your sides, "look, berkshire, just because i'm not trying to kill you anymore doesn't mean i want to be friends."

"what!? for fuck's sake, you're impossible." he stood up once more, this time darting out of your reach.

"here we go again." you rolled your eyes. you just couldn't interact without quarreling, could you? he paced around inbetween the bookshelves before returning to your table, "you're not exactly giving me any reasons to be nice right now."

"i never asked of you to be nice." you argued.

"you could appreciate me trying." he retorted. you had no idea what on earth he was trying to achieve. you could only think of so many explanations, "why? so that you could gain my trust and then stab me in the back when it's convenient for you?"

"that's what this is about?" he muttered something under his breath, "i thought we were past that rubbish."

you wanted to laugh hysterically, "okay, we may have pushed the resentment aside, but you can't exactly expect me to trust you."

he understood that, unbeknownst to you, "i never said that you needed to trust me," he sighed, leaning over the table, "listen, i offered to help you because i can see you're struggling. i'm not here to sabotage you if that's what you're worried about. i'd be wasting my time." he straightened his posture, standing there with his arms crossed.

"because i'm already terrible enough and don't need anyone's interference to properly fuck up, right?" you were prepared to tell him to bugger off if he refused to give you the answer you were looking for, furious at him and yourself.

he paused, hesitant. you were so fucking stubborn, and he loved you for it, "correct." alright then.

you picked up your quill, "sit down."

you got your exam back with a shocking score of eighty-nine, surpassing even hermione. not lorenzo, but you were second, and that was enough to have your ego flying right back through the roof.

i told you you could do it, he said, but not without me, he had to point out. you had to give him that. how could you not? he casually decided to save your life without you even asking for it. if it weren't for him, you most likely would have majorly fucked up on that exam. that's not saying that it wasn't difficult. he had no patience and you had even less, but you had somehow survived that night in the library without biting each other's heads off or getting into any additional fights. he even followed you back to your dorm, an offer he didn't allow you to refuse and one that you were too exhausted to complain about.

in the few weeks that followed, you decided that it was for the best that you block out whatever happened between you that night. christmas holidays were approaching, and you couldn't let that ruin your mood. lorenzo told you that mattheo said that it was a shift in the matrix. you had no idea what that meant, it sounded horrifyingly muggle, but you agreed for the sake of agreeing. a shift in the matrix, bloody nonsense. a coincidence, you called it. an accident, even. an accident that helped you out tremendously and made you reconsider lorenzo on nights when you couldn't sleep, but still an accident. 

who were you kidding? something had definitely changed. other students started noticing it too.

you had gradually become somewhat friendly rivals who'd rub their own success into each other's faces for the laughs till they got threatened with a jinx or tickled to death. some occasional name calling too, just not as intense. but you weren't friends. nothing near it. you had done a pretty good job at convincing yourself you never would be. treating him a little better than usual was the farthest you'd go trying to mend all those years of jealousy and grudges. that was what you started living by, pushing away that strange tingling sensation that would coarse through you every time his hands happened to brush against yours when you walked side by side.

it is exactly why you almost spilled acidic liquid all over the table and burnt a hole in it again when he sat next to you during potions one fine afternoon.

snape was visibly mortified by the sight, partially because of that incident from two years prior (when you almost set the entire classroom on fire), and partially because he couldn't believe that mcgonagall was actually onto something when she purposefully failed you both. it would go down in history as one of the most ridiculous moments of his career. he sent a warning glare your way before beginning the lesson.

"excuse you?" you whispered once professor snape finally turned his back to the class, raising both of your eyebrows in question. was lorenzo asking to get violated?

"harry took my seat." he pointed towards the table where he usually sat. and shockingly enough, there was harry, sitting next to draco, for whatever sick and twisted reason. you gaped at them, then at lorenzo. not looking into that deeper was maybe for the better.

okay then. you didn't respond, trying to get into taking some notes like you were previously instructed. that would have been easy (it was for the first quarter of the lesson), if lorenzo's presence wasn't keeping you so alert, stopping you from focusing on what you deemed more important, "merlin, can you breathe a little quieter?" you snapped.

he purposely inhaled louder than he normally would, grinning proudly when your eyes rolled back into your brain. you kicked him under the table. he yelped, but oddly, covered it up with a cough. you glared at him, doubtful. that was not the reaction you were expecting to get.

you resumed trying to copy the crucial bits from the chapter snape assigned you all to analyse, very poorly. it was kind of impossible. you weren't used to having lorenzo sit so close to you for such an extended amount of time. ignoring him was unimaginably hard. your notes had never looked worse. words missing, constant mistakes, sensless scribbles. you reached for a new pot of ink after seeing that you had run out, and then felt his finger poke at your side.

you flinched, catching a glimpse of your professor who's head was still buried in the pile of assignments he needed to grade. he hadn't noticed you. good. but then lorenzo did it again, right where you were most ticklish, because he knew. you swatted his hand away, not missing the way he smiled to himself. little shit.

you reached to poke him too, and when you tried to pull away, he took a hold of your wrist, not letting go. he had a lot of good defense tactics up his sleeve. you didn't try to yank your arm out of his grip instantly, which was the perfect opportunity for him to tickle at your side with his free hand. this time, you held back a startled giggle, kicking him under the table one more time. he snorted, resuming his little game.

you were both sweating trying not to make too much noise, but neither of you was letting up, not letting the other have the satisfaction of winning. he eventually moved his chair closer to yours with the excuse to tickle you more effectively. your legs were touching under the table, but only because it was easier for you to kick him that way. it went on for at least fifteen minutes, until snape finally lifted his head, his eyes on the class. you separated, thinking you were being slick about it, when it was the least fitting explanation for what had been going on. the two of you had your lips pressed together, trying not to laugh. your professor could only sigh in response. at least you didn't set anything ablaze.

hermione tucked her arm under yours in the hallway when your lesson ended, grinning mischevously, "would you like to tell me what happened just now?" 

you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully, "huh? i don't know what you're on about." you played dumb, despite knowing exactly what she was getting at. and you had no idea why. it's not like you had anything to hide.

"i think you do." she pushed. there was not a chance for you to get out of that conversation.

"really? i truly don't." you still tried, though. acting foolish was your only escape route.

"y/n." she dragged out, laughing and pulling you along with her. potions were your final lesson of the day, so you were already able to picture her desperate attempts to pull some information out of you all the way until bedtime.

"what? we were just fighting." you finally gave in. you knew you would have to eventually, but you loved your free time a little too much to let her annoying interrogation tactics drag on for so long.

"so you do know what i'm on about." she teased, scarily invested.

"what else could you possibly be on about?" you snapped, pushing away that uncomfortable feeling that settled in your chest. you had no reason not to tell her anything, so you couldn't pinpoint why you were feeling so guilty all of a sudden.

"the way you two sat closer together than every couple in our year?" she exclaimed, astonished by how shamelessly you were avoiding the subject.

you gasped, feeling a bit offended, or maybe called out. you couldn't tell which one it was, "that is not what happened." that was an overexaggaration if you ever heard one. was she out of her bloody mind? sometimes you thought that she enjoyed setting you off as much as lorenzo did.

you stepped through the portrait hole with the rest of your housemates, pushing through the crowd to get your dormitories faster. you wanted a nice shower, some peace and quiet for reading, and then decent sleep. it was that simple. you survived the walk through the common room without anyone asking additional invasive questions, immediately heading for the toilet once you arrived to your dorm.

you really needed that shower. it made you feel whole again. you stepped out after putting some comfortable clothes on, skipping over to your bed and then cursing out loud when you realised what was on it. amongst your own, there was lorenzo's fucking book. you had accidentally taken it when you scrambled to collect your things once class ended.

you could have just given it to him tomorrow, or not given it back at all. like he'd know who took it. it was incredibly tempting, but it also felt unnecessarily mean. what if he needed it to study that night? you brushed it off, not like it was your problem anyway. you sat down onto the mattress, picking up a novel from your nightstand and throwing the other books straight to the carpet so you could comfortably settle on your bed. you then put it back. you didn't feel like reading anymore. you laid there, thinking. peace was never an option in your world.

you groaned, snatching his book up from the floor and venturing back into the common room. you hadn't bothered to explain yourself to anybody, and you continued trotting over to the dungeons with a neutral expression on your face (neutral as in i am very much internally raging and if anybody tries to talk to me i might use the imperius curse on them). very useless it was, that relaxing shower of yours.

none of the slytherins lounging on the sofa questioned you, your appearance was pretty telling. good thing you ran into mattheo on the way there. getting in wouldn't have been so easy otherwise. you disappeared in the direction of their dormitories, stopping right in front of lorenzo's door. you swallowed harshly, begenning to get nervous. something was wrong with you.

you hesitated before knocking, tapping your foot against the ground furiously as you waited. "one second!" lorenzo yelled from the other side. it sounded like something had fallen over. the noise was followed by a few curse words and some shuffling before the door opened.

much to your dismay, you were met with a bare chested lorenzo, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers which loosely hung around his hips. his hair was wet, and his cheeks were a tinted with a light shade of pink. he had stepped out of the shower merely three minutes before you showed up. you inhaled sharply, swallowing the sound of surprise that almost escaped you and feeling your face heat up. his eyes went wide, given that he was taken aback much like yourself. you were the last person he was expecting to find on the other side of the door.

"hi." he greeted awkwardly, pulling his trousers up a bit as if it would help. you opened your mouth to speak, then closed it. opened it, before closing it again. you were pretty sure you resembled a damn fish. whatever was happening to you, you did not like it one bit.

"i- you- we- ithinkthisisyours." you finally spluttered, slamming the book into his chest. his hand touched yours momentarily when he grabbed it so that it wouldn't drop onto your feet. you felt lightheaded.

lorenzo was kind of freaking out, but only kind of, not even bothering to look at what you had given him at first. he was a little too busy staring at your blushing face, wondering what the hell was going on and why his heart was in his throat all of a sudden, "are you alright?" he queried, concerned.

"i am perfectly fine." that was a lie. 

"ah," he nodded, then eyed the piece of literature in his hands shortly as he slowly figured what it was, "oh! thank you."

you laughed in misery, "okay!" before shutting the door in your own face. you tripped and almost fell down the stairs as you ran, still flushed and your heart beating in a way that you found a little too unusual to push away.

you received a few judgemental glares from the students you had run past. the question marks were practically visible above their heads. you were too busy going hysterical to sneer at them for staring. you burst through the door of your dorm, breathless and blushing, "what the fuck?"

somewhere back inside the dungeons, a confused lorenzo turned to face his friends, still holding the book you had given to him. he had no idea what on earth happened, or why you reacted the way you did, or why he, deep down, found it more adorable than he'd like to admit. he groaned, falling face-first onto his bed. what the fuck, indeed. christmas holidays never looked more promising.

and oh how you regretted waiting for them with so much anticipation. you were supposed to get a break. from books, assignments, essays, whatever lorenzo was doing to you. hogwarts was supposed to be all yours. you weren't heading home that year. it was your parents' twentieth anniversary, so there was no point in going back, considering that you wouldn't see them (you didn't exactly have friends in your hometown either). they'd be having the time of their lives in the alps, and you'd be regretting every decision you had made up until that point.

not only because you were already bored out of your mind waiting for your friends to return, but because you saw lorenzo sitting at the slytherin table when you walked into the great hall on christmas eve. the image of him opening the door two weeks prior flashed through your mind. it happened often, in the most inconvenient situations too. you were hoping you didn't look too flushed.

"what are you doing here?" he questioned in amusement once you slid over to him, an equally puzzled expression on your face. "i could ask you the same thing." 

"all in good time." he cleared his throat, awkward. it was weird, but you didn't think much of it just yet. instead you sighed, taking a quick look around, and then speaking, "my parents ditched me for a skiing trip."

he snorted, motioning over to the very empty seat beside him. you sat down, no thoughts behind it. he was the only person among the ones who stayed for the holidays who you knew enough to hold a conversation, so it's not like you had better options. besides, that was your chance to see if there was more to his sudden change in behaviour. you were unnerved at the idea of even having the desire to do such a thing.

"what's your excuse?" you reached over his arm to grab a piece of toast, as well as some jam and chocolate spread.

"parents as well." you didn't miss the way he shifted uncomfortably. you put down your knife and propped your arms on the table, eyeing him expectantly. he held back shortly, and you couldn't blame him. who were you to think that he'd trust you with a possible family issue?

"i was told that i'm a disappointment and i'm not allowed home until i get my grades in tact." he stabbed the bacon in his plate aggressively, not looking at you. your jaw dropped in shock.

"in tact?" you uttered in disbelief. it was practically common knowledge that lorenzo exceeded you in a lot of subjects, a little more than half of them actually, so in your mind, this shouldn't have even been a problem. he was one of the top students. everybody knew that. your parents expected you to do well too, but they weren't that pushy or strict. yeah, receiving a howler for momentarily falling behind in october was aggravating, but nothing that you couldn't bear. lorenzo's, however, were crossing a line.

he hummed, picking at his food, "don't say anything." he sighed, it almost sounded like a plea. he couldn't just ask you for comfort, or ask of you to understand. faux sympathy was the last thing he needed.

"no, it's just–" you chewed on the inside of your cheek and picked up your knife again, spreading some jam over the piece of toast you grabbed previously, "you're not a disappointment, that's bullshit." you bit into the crunchy bread, chewing it slowly, a sour expression on your face. lorenzo went a bit red, stumbling over his words before getting out a clumsy i know, followed by a hesitant thanks anyway. 

you said nothing for the remaining few minutes of breakfast, just eating in silence while other students chatted in background. when you were exiting the great hall together to return to your respective dorms, you made eye contact with mcgonagall for a brief moment. she offered you a proud smile, yet with a hint of mischief behind it. you had never been more confused.

you spent the first half of christmas day alone in the gryffindor common room, reading some trashy muggle romance novel you found under hermione's bed a couple of nights before. it was one of the worst books you had ever picked up, but there was something so annoyingly addicting about it that you just couldn't give it up. it left you feeling empty and lonely, and with a strong desire to fling yourself straight into the depths of the black lake.

"christ, l/n, why do you look so sullen?" you shut your eyes, exhaling through your nose. just what you needed. you weren't even gonna question lorenzo was doing there. you had a clue.

"you don't wanna know." you tossed the book across the room, internally celebrating when he decided not to investigate further.

he made a face, "merry christmas?"

"likewise." you replied blandly. when you didn't tell him to get lost, he jumped onto the sofa, getting comfortable next to you. he didn't look all too happy either.

you sat there for good twenty minutes, staring at the fire like your entire worlds were crumbling in front of your eyes. it didn't occur to the either of you how awful it would feel to spend christmas all alone for the first time. no presents, no childhood foods, no hugs from mum in the morning. you even missed your spoiled cousins who would nag you to play with them each time you visited their house on boxing day.

it fucking sucked, but god, at least lorenzo was there. you'd push aside everything that happened between you in the previous years just for a twinge of affection. something came over you, and you lowered your head onto his shoulder, almost sighing in relief when he didn't shove you away. he scooted closer and rested his head on top of yours, not speaking.

from that moment onward, you saw each other every day. he'd show up at your dorm at random moments and you'd show up at his at even worse ones. you'd take walks in the snow together and come back with soaking wet clothes and red noses. you'd smoke in the courtyard before bed after making sure the coast was clear. you'd go to hogsmeade and fight over who was gonna pay for the butterbeer until you came up with a nonsensical compromise. you'd sneak out at night to steal books from the restricted section of the library and then read them under covers in the slytherin dorms. you'd sometimes fall asleep next to each other and then act like nothing happened in the morning.

***

you expected it all to fade to nothing once everybody else came back to hogwarts, but then it didn't. you still took walks in the snow and argued over butterbeer and snuck out after midnight (and had to clean several toilets after getting caught almost every time). he still helped you with arithmancy without asking for anything in return, and you'd sometimes kiss him on the cheek if you were in a good mood. you thrived off of the expressions that would paint his face whenever you did that.

but with the return of other students also came whispers and rumours, following you around like shadows. you ignored them tactfully, not wanting to give anybody the satisfaction of confirming that their silly theories may have been right all along. especially not hermione. she wouldn't let you forget that until you perished. she'd probably leave a note on your grave too, so you'd have that humiliating reminder haunting you in the afterlife.

"i thought you two hated each other." mattheo deadpanned one evening after lorenzo had brought you to the slytherin common room, straight into the damn snake pit. you were squashed together on the sofa, a large book splayed open across your laps, not getting read. it was one of the stolen ones. all of his friends were there, watching you like hawks.

"we do." you responded nonchalantly, taking the cigarette that lorenzo handed you. you took a long drag before putting it back between his lips.

"then why do you spend so much time together?" draco was very obviously judging you. he of all people should have understood. lorenzo rolled his eyes.

"you are in no place to talk, mister i hate potter but snog him in my off time." blaise took your side, bless his soul, and tossed theodore's shoe in his direction. shutting draco up was easier than you would have thought.

"no, but why?" mattheo repeated draco's question, propping his chin up into his palm and observing you curiously.

"maybe, they're– wait, what do you call that?" theodore leaned into pansy, hoping she had an answer.

"masochists?" she replied casually and lit a cigarette herself.

you choked on your spit. lorenzo almost burnt a hole in the sofa. but then pansy brushed her friend off, staring at the two of you with a mischievous grin, "not really, i think they're just bad liars."

and she was so bloody right. hate was the last thing that could be used to describe your relationship. third year you's biggest nightmare was a better label for it, given that you couldn't even be in the same room as him without trying to turn him into something nasty.

present day you was having a difficult time stopping herself from trying to kiss him whenever he was in her presence. it was that fucking frustrating. you couldn't believe yourself. lorenzo was facing the same struggles, and you couldn't tell if he was worsening or subduing the tension by randomly touching you. not like you minded, you were loving it all and stopped bothering with trying to hide it from him. your ego may have been large, but your crush on him ended up being bigger.

potions class was usually the height of it all, although it wasn't the only period during which you got to sit next to your favourite rival. mcgonagall was was thriving, unlike snape, who simply could not get used to the positive energy surrounding you, or the way you were together each time he crossed your paths. seeing pure fear flash through his eyes at the beginning of every class was hilarious.

when lorenzo arrived, you felt yourself starting to smile and tried to push it away with the most unsettling thoughts you could muster. it did nothing. he sat down with a dramatic groan, and immediately started ranting about some minor issue he had run into that morning. he did that a lot. this time it was about his favourite pair of socks going missing. you sucked in practically everything he said, chuckled at the random curses, noticed every breath of frustration he released as he was rummaging through his bag. you didn't realise you were staring. lorenzo did, but he didn't comment on it. he liked when you were looking at him.

you failed to regsiter that the lesson officially began, but not much was happening, really. snape was telling you about felix felicis and how insanely difficult it was to make, while you were required to write down the most useful bits of the information he was giving out. when he finally sat down after assigning you to read an overly long passage, lorenzo shifted closer to you. you eyed him, puzzled.

"would you kill me if i asked you for a favour?" you focused half of your attention on the writing, half on him.

"depends what the favour is." you shrugged. he put his arm over the text to prevent you from reading. he wanted you to look at him. he had always wanted you to look at him. from the very moment your fued set off, it was one of those little annoying things that made your hatred for him stronger. not anymore, but it was still infuriating in its own way. you gave him your full attention. he may have seen some sparks fly. you had each other wrapped around your little fingers without even realising it.

he shifted even closer to you so that you could hear him better, considering that he had to whisper, "can you come to hogsmeade with me today?" his breath fanned over your ear as he spoke. you didn't respond, so he continued, "none of my friends want to and it would be stupid if i went alone. you do kind of owe me." ah, yes. for that time he saved you from detention after slughorn caught you two smoking in the astronomy tower. you shot him with an annoyed look. you both knew it was exaggerated and what your answer would be, yet you still played around with it. that's the way things went. he smirked. bitch.

"fine." he was so smug about it, you could choke him and snog him at the same time. he got his arm away from your textbook, but didn't retrieve his chair. you were squeezed next to one another despite having more than enough space. your arms were touching, and so were your legs beneath the table. you moved not a muscle, and neither did he. you had grown to like having him sit so close to you. it made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside, helping you ignore the freezing winter air and the thick layer of snow covering the ground outside.

you met him in the courtyard after a quick change of clothing following the end of your classes for that week. when hermione asked you where you were heading and why you won't be staying in the common room with the rest of your friends, you told a half truth. that you were heading to hogsmeade, but then bolted out the door before she was able to ask with whom. she would guess either way.

"i forgot to ask you why we were doing this in the first place." you spoke as you left the school grounds, your hands shoved into your pockets and your face hidden inside of your fluffy scarf. you were a little cold. lorenzo was too, his nose was already going red. it was an adorable sight to see, but you weren't dumb enough to say that out loud.

"i wanna pick up a few poetry books." you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh at him.

"didn't know you could read." you snickered, it was stronger than you.

"you're so original," he mocked, "they're not for me. pansy's birthday's coming up so i figured i should get her something."

"oh." the disappointment in your tone was obvious.

all of your willingness to go with him left you in an instant. his presence was more irritating than ever. he furrowed his eyebrows as he watched you chew on the inside of your cheek, wondering if he said something wrong. again... or not. lorenzo was smarter than that.

"what, are you jealous?" he nudged you, teasing. yes. you hated yourself just a tiny bit for that, "no," you scoffed, "in your dreams, berkshire."

"we both know you can't fool me." he kept the act going. you gave him a shove, making him stumble. he almost tripped and fell in a pile of snow. it was very funny. he tried to get back at you, but you slipped out of his reach, laughing when he began chasing you.

spending time with him was like a getaway from all the things that drove you mad, even though he sometimes excelled at that. he became a friend you didn't know you needed and a friend you were pretty sure you were catching some major feelings for.

you entered the bookstore as your unplanned snowball fight came to an end, its warmth immediately engulfing you. after being in the cold for longer than intended, it was just what you desired. you stuck with lorenzo for the first few minutes, helping him out and leading him away from the large isle of erotic novels he accidentally found himself in. people were looking at you weird, especially your schoolmates, so you stepped away from the crowded bits of the shop and decided to check out different sections.

a certain book had caught your eye – its contents intrigued you, but the price did something opposite. you put it back on the shelf without second guessing yourself. you hadn't brought any money with you. you continued roaming through the different isles, browsing through various books while you waited for lorenzo to finish. you lost sight of him for a few minutes, too busy debating whether to make him come back with you here some other time so you could purchase whatever your heart desired.

for the time being, you'd have to leave the shop with empty hands. lorenzo was luckier and ended up getting five poetry books which all seemed to be written by the same author, except for one. he handed you the odd one out. you opened your mouth, ready to complain about your fingers being cold and not wanting to carry it. slowly, you realised what it was. your jaw dropped a little.

he had seen you looking at it ever so longingly when he went to check up on you after realising you had gone off on your own. he picked it up without hesitation. you were too stunned to thank him, too stunned to say anything, for the matter. but he wasn't exactly expecting a thank you. he was just happy that you liked it, grinning when you blushed and struggled to keep it cool.

"you shouldn't have done that." you chastised. those were the only words you could muster. he rolled his eyes, "deal with it."

you punched his shoulder. he didn't even flinch, "you're welcome."

when he threatened to ruin your life when you were twelve years old, this wasn't how you thought it would happen.

"i'm gonna kill you." you weren't exactly addressing him, more like talking to yourself.

"you're still on about that?" he huffed, pretending to be bored.

"lorenzo!" you groaned, he chuckled, "i love you too." your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. his weird confession seemed unserious, but your heart still fluttered. little did you know that he wasn't as oblivious as you imagined.

he was positively glowing at the reactions he was getting from you. his tiny year five crush on you had blossomed into something stronger after that moment at the lake a couple of months prior, and at last, the possibility of you feeling the same wasn't looking so small. if only you saw through his actions. all those offers of help, and his complete dismissal of your rivarly, and his clinginess, and how he stuck to you like glue whenever he got the opportunity.

your walk back to the castle surprisingly wasn't silent. you were chatting quietly, snickering amongst yourselves. your shoulders brushed occasionally, and so did your hands, and you thought your heart might burst. you shivered as the wind got stronger, pressing yourself a little closer to him.

"you okay?"

"huh?" you didn't register what he said at first, "oh, yes. just a little cold, that's all." you explained, not taking your eyes away from the pathway you were pacing across.

"let's hurry up, then." he took a hold of your hand, swiftly leading you back to the castle. you were so, royally fucked. you clutched onto the poetry book tightly, focused on regulating your breathing. your entire face was on fire, your breaths ragged, heart beating rapidly against your ribcage.

four days later, you caught a terrible cold after accidentally falling asleep by the window while you were reading. hermione said that she expected better from you. she was fantastic help. you were pretty sure you were dying. your limbs hurt. your head was throbbing. your sinuses were clogged. your throat felt like someone had stuck a knife into it. but did you skip any lessons because of it or at least visit madam pomfrey to see if she could do anything? no, you weren't that helpless. you'd deal with it on your own.

or try to, at least. you stumbled into class resembling a zombie, eager to sit down and hopefully not do much work for the day. you placed your arms on the desk, laying your head into them and shutting your eyes. you opened them only a few seconds later when lorenzo shifted next to you. you were met with his worried face, just a couple of centimeters away from yours. when you didn't budge, he touched your cheek with the back of his hand, frowning.

"you're burning up." he kept his voice down, but his tone was giving away the fact that your state concerned him greatly. you waved a dismissive hand, closing your eyes again. he poked you to make you look at him.

"have you went to madam pomfrey?" he questioned. you shook your head. if looks could kill, his probably would have.

"i'll go later." you reassured him poorly, just to get him to stop. the last thing you needed was getting all flustered and emotional because he was showing more interest in taking care of you than anybody else in your circle of friends.

"your later usually means never," he was right. you hated that. you grunted, hiding your reddening face. that was both from the fever and from him, "hey." he threw his arm around you when he didn't get a resonse. you leaned into his touch faster than you thought you would, just searching for any sort of warmth there was.

other students were giggling, but he couldn't care less, "y/n."

you lifted your head again, and then allowed it to fall against his shoulder. mcgonagall stepped through the classroom door shortly after that, her mouth dropping a little when she saw the position you were in. she was gonna scold you for displaying your affection so publicly, but lorenzo quickly explained the situation, and before you were able to protest, she shooed the both of you outside.

he immediately intertwined your fingers, walking at a slower pace than usual, not wanting to tire you more. as annoyed as that made you, you didn't pull your hand away, and instead kept your body close to his. he was muttering something, scolding you for being so dismissive and not getting this fixed right away. you were too exhausted to argue, but he was right anyway.

you inhaled sharply as your headache increased in intensity, latching onto his arm and stopping in your tracks. you shut you eyes, thinking it would help and ease it a bit. you felt him move to stand in front of you. his forehead fell against yours and his hands cupped your cheeks gently. you held onto him, taking a few deep breaths through your nose. his thumbs grazed over your skin ever so slightly, as if that his was his way of trying to soothe you.

eventually, your eyes fluttered open, but neither of you let the other go. lorenzo broke the silence between you, "you're so bloody stubborn."

"you're one to talk." you chuckled dryly, hugging him a bit tighter. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, waiting for you to give him a sign that you were ready to walk again. when you nodded, he took your hand again, leading you to the hospital wing.

madam pomfrey had you going back to normal with a simple flick of her wand after a tiny scolding, and then she pinched lorenzo's cheek and called him a "good boy" for being so caring. the unexpected praise had his eyes going wide and he was blushing madly – you were never gonna let him forget that one.

she instructed you to come back if the cold returned, but she was addressing lorenzo more than she was you. a smart move on her part, the older woman knew you and your headstrong ways well enough. she ushered you out only after she made sure were in perfect shape to head back to class, though you couldn't do it without rubbing her comment into lorenzo face until he turned completely red again. he had to tickle you to get you to stop and you caused a bit of a commotion in the silent corridors, but that didn't matter. you returned to the transfiguration classroom with your pinkies intertwined, all eyes on you. you two really needed to talk.

and what are the odds of him being caring enough to check up on you later that day. he knew he wouldn't find you in your dorm, or the common room, or the library, or the astronomy tower. instead, he headed to the only other place on his mind, where the two of you often hung out on nights when neither of you could sleep.

you were sat on one of the stone walls in the courtyard, a cigarette in your hand, kind of forgotten. you hadn't noticed that it was burning out, or the occasional ash landing on your clothes. your thoughts were going places, recalling the many events that occured during the past few months, and what on earth you were going to do about your feelings. you could hide them from your friends for some time, but not from lorenzo. you blew out a frustrated breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. being straightforward with that idiot was always easy. you never had trouble with telling him exactly what you meant. 

the fact that you were anxious about it now was the most maddening thing in the world.

"what a depressing sight." you flinched, whipping your head in lorenzo's direction almost instantly. you couldn't tell if that was luck or misfortune. you snorted, rolling your eyes and offering him the remainder of your cigarette. he gladly took it, joining you in silence.

"why are you here?" you questioned.

"came to check up on you." he replied.

"i can take care of myself just fine." you patted his back. he seemed unphased. of course he was, he knew he'd win that argument.

you glimpsed up at the sky shortly. it was snowing just a little bit. you turned to lorenzo, a pleading expression on your face, "walk with me?"

he nodded, tossing the cigarette butt into the snow. you left the school grounds once again knowing that you wouldn't make it back before curfew, but that wasn't something the either of you dwelled on very much. there were more important things to get worried about.

it was obvious that you kept dodging the subject, settling for talking about things so insignificant that you would probably tell somebody to shut up if they brought them up in conversation on a normal day. being ballsy wasn't your thing anymore, as it seemed.

as cowardly as you felt, the sore winner in you wasn't letting you back down. a long internal debate and a silent minute of self-deprecation was what it took to make you finally speak your mind... to an extent, "have you ever felt incredibly guilty about being wrong about someone?"

lorenzo stared at you as if you were insane. it was a little too early on in the conversation for him to start connecting the dots. his street-smarts were sometimes lacking.

"you sure your cold didn't come back?" he pressed his hand against your forehead. you let out a startled laugh, observing his questioning face.

"what?" you spluttered, shoving your hands further into your pockets. the skeptical look in his eyes was making you nervous.

"you're admitting that you were wrong about something?" he sounded unconvinced, but there was a hint of jest in his voice.

you bit your tongue, clearing your throat awkwardly, "yes." you breathed out. he nodded, a way to tell you to go on. he was definitely interested. you were beginning to suspect that he already knew what you were gonna say.

"i mean," you grunted, cursing quietly, "you know when you spend years convinced that somebody is an awful person and claiming you hate their guts but then end up realising that they aren't nearly as terrible as you thought when you get to know them properly?" you explained frustratedly, resisting the temptation to kick the snow piling at your feet.

his mouth fell open in surprise for a moment, but he quickly shut it, running a hand through his hair, "uh, yeah, actually." he uttered nervously, scanning your face for any sign of humour. but you weren't playing around, and certainly not lying. he had been around you enough to be able to tell when you were being truthful.

you gave him a brief nod, looking everywhere but at him. you barely noticed that your hands were shaking. you contined walking on, not saying a single thing. if he were to tell you that he could hear your heart beating, you wouldn't even have the time to act surprised.

"i have to tell you something." he stopped in his tracks, grabbing your elbow in order to make your steps halt. you faced him, looking down at your feet, waiting for him to drop the bomb. he chewed on his lip anxiously, running a hand through his hair.

"i, um," he was struggling, not exactly knowing how to begin. how to formulate that sentence, even. he wished he could just show you. he reached to take your hand, and you let him, standing there motionless.

it was his turn to panic, "i- fuck." he met your gaze. you knew that look. you knew that bloody look he gave you when you were both thinking the same thing. two years prior it would have been something along the lines of i want to kill you. but it had turned into something that was a lot closer to i want to kiss you. you wanted to fucking cry. 

you nodded, breathing out and blinking your tears away. he almost sighed in relief, cupping your cheeks, and that's when your lips pressed against the last pair of lips you thought you'd ever be kissing.

you reached up to touch his face – that pretty face you once hated the sight of, but then couldn't get enough of. you pulled back only for a moment, only to connect again, neither letting the other go. your kisses were unhurried, soft, and loving, despite months upon months of pining, despite the years of pent up hate that was, at the end of day, sort of bound to blossom into love.

at the end of your seventh year, when you were leaving hogwarts hand in hand, mcgonagall stopped you on the way out. it was only then that she told you what had actually happened that gloomy day october, the one that practically sealed your fates for eternity. the overflow of different emotions was too strong for you to have time to act shocked, and you pulled the woman into a big hug, thanking her with teary eyes. for putting up with you for so many years, and for managing to do the unimaginable.