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saltyfishdream · 19 days

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Kazuha x Reader (Hogwarts AU)

Tags: reverse hurt/comfort, triggered by weather, coping with grief, gn!reader, implied past Kazuha/Friend

Words: 3.8k

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was empty for only you and Professor Minci. You gulped nervously as she started to talk about your consistent “trolling” grade, which you still had to stifle a few laughs from hearing. You grew up in a Muggle family, and of course, the Internet.

She continued with how she tried to put you with other “high-achieving students” (Diluc and Kaeya) to get your grade up or making you sit on your own (after she found that you three together were the perfect stew for chatter) but they “probably weren't the best ways for you”.

“So that's why I'd like to introduce you to your peer tutor,” She finished. Peer tutor? You don't dare raise a brow at the idea even though you wanted to. You were sure that Diluc and Kaeya’s grades dropped that term because of all the chatting in class. Would you distract that peer tutor so much you'd forget about studying in the first place?

A knock on the door stopped your train of thoughts.

“Come in.”

You were first met with red eyes. Not as dark and piercing as the crimson in Diluc's, but a shade closer to the warm flame in the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room despite the fact that he was a Hufflepuff. His hair was white for only a few red strands, which was brushed to his right.

“Kadehara,” Professor Minci continued, “Will be your student tutor this term…”

She went on with a lot of details (like how good a student Kadehara was? Or he's a sixth year who didn’t drop the subject?) that you mostly missed, before noticing that it was almost time for dinner and ushered you two out of the room.

Kadehara said, “[name], are you fine with calling me Kazuha? I'm not really used to being called by my last name–”

You only blurted out the thing that was hanging on your mind from the moment you saw him. “You should put less stress on yourself, or even that red part of your hair will turn white at this rate if you insist on tutoring me.”

Kazuha's eyes widened for a second, probably from confusion.

“A-Ah no, I just bleached and dyed my hair! Kind of, actually. I wanted to dye it all red but the dyeing spell didn't work as well as I'd imagined,” he let out a few dry laughs, even though he didn’t look anything close to feeling awkward or already hating you.

You could feel the warmth creep up your face. Those rumors about the guy who found his hair whitened overnight was total bullcrap! Why would’ve you believed it? Are you fricking stupid? And had to make that tutor think you’re stupid in non-DA stuff? You ask yourself, almost embarrassing yourself in front of Kazuha again by nearly hitting yourself in the head with an imaginary rolled-up newspaper.

And so you both got back to your own tables without saying a word.

.ೃ࿐

“Isn't it time for you to go to that student tutor?” Kaeya asked. You groaned, looking up from the magical equivalent of a Rubik's cube in your hands, the only difference between both is that it keeps tricking you into the wrong steps by changing its colors and giving you riddles then roasts you for not solving the puzzle. It was a Saturday morning and the last thing that you had the mood to do was tutoring.

You pretend to have forgotten about the whole thing. “Tutor? What tutor?”

“The sixth-year who bleached his hair with a spell,” Diluc said, hands subconsciously turning his own cube.

“Ugh, thanks for the reminder.”

That conversation a few days ago had left a much sour taste in your mouth than you'd imagined that you were dreading seeing Kazuha again. Now every time you think of anything related to hair or peer tutoring (which Diluc and Kaeya are very unhelpfully mentioning in every conversation) you would cringe for the next hour about it– even Scara telling everyone that your face keeps turning into a tomato isn’t as embarrassing as that!

Don't know what to do next? Too bad. The words showed on your cube while it made obnoxious booing sounds. Note to self: get self a set of wizarding chess that is not from Dori.

You put the cube down for it to reshuffle in a flurry of colors and launch itself into Kaeya’s hands.

And for once the cube was right. You didn't really know what to do next, go to the library and face Kazuha or think of some random excuse that can convince Professor Minci to let you off the hook.

You left the common room. You knew that Kaeya and Diluc would literally drag you to the library if you stayed for a while longer, and they weren't sick of making hair-dyeing references yet while you were more than sick of the conversation with Kazuha.

Speak of the devil, he was standing next to the Fat Lady waiting for you.

“Oh, you're finally here.” He said with a smile as if the conversation didn't happen at all. “I thought you… forgot… or something…” Kazuha’s voice trailed off further as he went.

It was so awkward that you hoped that the floor would open up like the stairs did and swallow you whole (which it sadly didn't yet).

It took something like a million years and 20 tokens for you to generate a response, “It- I… lost my book. And notes, so, uh…”

You haven't even gotten to the part of calling off the tutoring session because of that when Kazuha replied, “That's fine, there are copies of textbooks in the library… it's really a blessing, isn't it?”

You could do nothing but nod and pray for whoever Merlin is to get you out of this cringefest.

.ೃ࿐

You both go to the library in total silence. There weren’t many students in the halls early on a Saturday morning. But you just can’t relax from the lingering threat of awkwardness. You and Kazuha each grabbed a seat at the left third row as a copy of the DA textbook automatically flew to your desk and opened itself on the first page.

“Ah, right. Would it be a bit inconvenient if you don’t have your own notes with you?” He asked while handing you a piece of paper. Yep, it’s the paper you’ve never seen ever since you’ve been to Hogwarts. You put it on your side of the table, your mind as blank as how it looked. “I never had any notes for DA,” you confess. Kazuha exhales deeply. “From now on,” He stated, “You have to start writing your notes.”

You groan.

“This subject is no fun…” Mumbling under your breath, you take your spare pencil out from your robe pocket, “I have no idea why Diluc and Kaeya could pass without even studying…” They were telling you to “blame everything on the pre-war Ministry” while you were still struggling with who did what. You were that day years old when you knew that Tom Riddle had never been the Minister of Magic.

Kazuha shrugged. “Most Muggle-borns like me have to study it the hard way. I mean– you’ve never known about the society and history and whatever shit we have here so you need, like, plenty of time to get used to it.” He puts his hair down and ties it back up, not giving a care about how he was swearing out loud. In the library.

You begrudgingly force your eyes back to the parchment and textbook. “How much do you mean by ‘plenty of time’? It’s been a term and I’m still trolling every single DA-related assignment.” Holding the urge to gnaw on the end of your pencil back, you finally write down the words “DA notes” on the paper.

“Can you tell me what the first chapter is about first?” He asks, gesturing to you to close the textbook. You stare at him with the same blank expression as if his head were the DA textbook. The air solidified around you. How on Earth would you know? You’ve never really touched the textbook, and he’s talking about the first chapter? Finally, you confidently tell him your answer which is definitely right. “It’s about how to defend yourself from the Dark Arts!”

Kazuha laughed– not dryly, but fortunately heartily. “Can’t say you’re totally wrong,” He said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “But I think it’s a sign for us to go through this chapter together.”

You start reading the chapter with him, the memories about the incident last week slowly fading to make way for the words in your textbook. The whatever “grim consequences of the Wizarding Wars” didn’t seem as hard as they seem to be, and even better– you finally remember the name Tom Riddle gave himself. (Hint: it’s not Dildo-lover Rat Mom or anything dildo-related) Kazuha seemed to be a way better teacher than Professor Minci– his voice was calming, but didn’t sound boring when he spoke and scribbled down concepts on his parchment.

“You see? It’s not as hard as you’ve imagined!”

Towards the end of the session (did time pass that quick?) you were at the end of the first chapter. There was still half an hour before lunch starts and you were too lazy to go back to the Common Room yet, so you decided to chat for a while while waiting.

“First year DA used to be more fun,” Kazuha sighed, “They had At least that’s what I heard from my seniors.” He puts his own quill and parchment away.

You say, “Define ‘fun’. If you’re talking about some lame Auror droning on about how he peaked in his teenage years and gave his wand to a dead man in the end, don’t count me in.” You weren’t even sure if Harry Potter did ever come back to Hogwarts to do some speech or whatever for the first years–but it’s most likely true if Kaeya told you. Very big thanks to the trust issues everyone you knew gave you after last week.

Books in the distance flew back onto their shelves, dust falling down onto your table.

“I mean- yeah, Auror Potter did come back to introduce DA for first years, but, that was like, a couple of years ago. And if I were you, I wouldn't say that he's lame.” Kazuha’s round, autumn-like eyes fell, staring at the dust.

The air was lead. And you both were suffocating in it.

A gust of wind blew the invisible lead, along with the dust away. “Anyways, they used to have lessons on the actual stuff besides all those theories. Combatting Boggarts? Check. Resisting Unforgivables? Check. Professors who make up ninety-nine percent of the Dark Arts themselves? Check.”

He kept on talking about how they postponed all that cool stuff to the third year. You would’ve looked forward to fighting off evil creatures but you were more stuck in Kazuha’s reaction to what you said. You had to blurt and now you don’t think he’s feeling totally good with that. Great.

You headed your own ways without a word.

.ೃ࿐

It has been two months since Kazuha started tutoring you, always sitting at the left third row in tutoring sessions. Your DA grades were getting better– definitely not the best, but having four assignments in a row without a “Troll” was progress. You started to control your big, fat mouth in front of him as well. You didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself or having him look at the dust again.

Kazuha was a great guy as well– a cool sixth-year that you could rely on. When you met him out of tutoring, he would wave, or stop for a chat with you, slightly blushing when his friends hooted or whistled behind. His kitten– which perched on his shoulder like a Pikachu– even stretched itself to you when you met Kazuha, begging for a boop on the nose. He sometimes talked about his misadventures as a first year which always made you laugh, but you could sense the hint of something else in it, whether in his gaze or tone.

You were walking alone on the path next to the Great Lake on a sunny afternoon. Diluc and Kaeya were busy talking to Dehya about joining the Quidditch team next year and they told you not to wait for them.

The blonde with the red strand in his hair, sitting next to the lake while putting a maple leaf on the calm water surface. With a gentle swish of his wand the leaf sailed away, leaving two lines on the lake. “Didn’t you watch the Quidditch match?” You ask.

He said, “No, I didn’t.” Before putting another maple leaf onto the water.

“Come on! You totally missed out on how Gryffindor whooped the butts of all those Slytherins! It took, like, three whole hours before Heizou finally caught the Snitch!” You sat next to him, looking at the maple leaf floating on the water.

Kazuha fidgeted with his wand like how you would spin your pen in class. “I… used to love watching Quidditch, but…” He lost hold of its wand, luckily catching it before it fell into the water, “The person I usually watched playing left. So, yeah.”

“Left in terms of graduated?” You ask.

“You can say it like that.”

He stopped putting leaves into the lake.

You sit in silence with him for a while. Before you leave upon seeing Diluc and Kaeya in the distance.

.ೃ࿐

Another Saturday morning. It's raining so heavily that you thought that someone was pouring buckets of black water down from the roof. Breakfast was over already and you were running late for tutoring so you had to ignore the sensation in your gut.

You grab your textbook and notes and make a mad dash to the library, passing the practically waterfalls of rain along the corridors. You look at your usual seat. He wasn't there yet despite you being already– you look at the clock– ten minutes late.

Huh. That's weird. Maybe he decided to go to a new table today for the view? You look into the dark, barely-illuminated depths of the library. Nope. Not searching by yourself.

You go up to the front table and ask the librarian Pela if she had seen Kazuha.

Pela shakes her head, before picking back up the doujinshi she was reading.

Feeling like sticking out like a sore thumb, you go back to your usual table. Maybe he just overslept like you did and he was on his way here.

Another ten minutes pass. No sign of Kazuha. You open your textbook and start studying Chapter Nine. But no matter how many times you read it, the words just rebound from your brain and back into the textbook.

You close it a bit too loudly in frustration. Where was he?

“Mmnh?” Kazuha appears in the corridor next to your table, black circles under his puffy eyes. He forces a smile and says, “Sorry for being late, I pulled an all-nighter last night and got to bed at five AM. I got myself some coffee, so… don’t worry too much about me.”

He sets his stuff down on the table and immediately starts explaining the chapter.

“… So Aurors had to undergo strict tests…” He kept speaking, eyes on the textbook. His voice was raspy– not Scara’s oh-im-so-dark-and-mysterious type, but rather the type you get when you catch a cold or have stayed up the whole night crying.

Maybe he caught a cold after pulling an all-nighter. Just maybe.

His words fuse with the pattering of the rain on the windows outside. You can’t comprehend anything he was saying while your mind is running a hundred miles per hour wondering what’s wrong with Kazuha even though you know that it’s technically not your business. You don’t even bother asking yourself to focus– your head was just too occupied with these thoughts.

He didn’t notice the fact you weren’t listening at all. “Nowadays, Aurors still have to- to… fight against… the remaining power of Tom Riddle’s followers…” He said, trailing off at the end of the sentence. You look at him. Then at the textbook, where a whole chart of different events with the corresponding years with the title “Major Breakthroughs in Defending Post-War Magical Britain from Death Eaters” occupied two whole pages.

Kazuha was covering his eyes with both his hands, his elbows resting on the table. You can hear his muffled sniffling.

Well, that was definitely more than a cold.

“Kazuha? Uh- you ok?” You felt stupid asking this question. He is visibly not OK, cold or not. The ball of panic erupted in your head. Is this supposed to be normal? Think, [name], you have to think… Why is he like this? What can I do?

Your pencil feels slippery, and if you keep the tip pressed on your notebook you’d be drawing a seismograph.

You had never seen him like this. Like, of course, you guys just met two months ago and you expect him to be vulnerable in front of you? But you always saw him as the “cool senior student”.

A flash of lightning.

You ask, “What happened?” as if your head has been struck by a Stupefy. It came out as a whisper.

Kazuha rested his head on the table, not looking at you.

The roaring of thunder broke in the library, not helping with anything at all.

“It- it’s just the weather…” He turned his back against you, conjuring a piece of tissue paper.

You put your pencil down. “Yeah, awful weather, isn’t it?” You say without even thinking, your voice sounding dead.

Lightning struck again, momentarily painting the room in white.

Kazuha closes the textbook. “I’ve always hated rainstorms,” he says, his voice still breaking, “They… they took him away. In the middle of a rainstorm.”

Your train of thought gets cut short by the thunderclap. “I’m… sorry for that.”

“No, y-you don’t have to. It’s not your fault.” The feeble candlelight flickers, illuminating his face. Fresh tears were streaming down his reddened cheeks, his red eyes looking like the Great Lake under the sunset. His light hair was slightly disheveled, which he brushed towards one side. “It’s just that… I never thought that they would be that cruel.”

The pattering sound outside seemed louder. “Tomo… I should’ve… Why didn’t I…” Kazuha muttered under his breath.

“Mind if we, uh, just,” You struggle to find the right words to say, “Talk about it?”

Kazuha nods.

“Tomo… he was a nice friend. A Ravenclaw. He was a fourth-year student when I started studying here…”

The candles flickered a few more times, teetering at the verge of totally going out before reilluminating itself.

“I got bullied for being a Muggleborn and having a strange accent, he was the only other Japanese guy here and he stood up for me so… we became friends…” He paused.

“I should’ve stopped him from being an Auror if I knew this would happen to him… He could’ve been a good Quidditch player or potionmaker or… I was just happy for him when he told me he passed all the tests last summer but just on his very first mission…”

His voice broke again. You scooted over to him. “He sent me a letter that morning about how he looked forward to it and before I could reply, that evening it rained until the next morning and what I saw on the news was that…”

You patted his back. The wind howled, as if it were weeping as well. Leaves flew by the window, which was barely holding on to the frame. You haven’t even experienced such a storm back where you lived.

“The Death Eaters killed him but didn’t take his wand. His partner told me he could’ve survived if they didn’t fire a second spell at him…”

“They really are… heartless. More than I'd imagined. It must’ve been awful knowing that,” you say.

Kazuha continued, “It was. The first spell landed on his keychain instead… Why were they so bent on… doing this? He fought until the last moment… The keychain… we bought a matching pair at a cheap souvenir store together at Hogsmeade… it cracked when the spell hit…”

“I kept it when they sent it to me. And… his kitten… I guess it helped me keep my mind off stuff for a while.”

The raindrops sounded lighter.

“… he loved cats, but his parents were allergic so he got it after graduation when he got to rent a house with his colleagues and updated me about his life and training along with a photo of his kitten every single day… And he was a good Quidditch player but quit in his sixth year. If he were a Quidditch player maybe he would’ve still been here but not…”

The sky seemed lighter as the heavy rain faded. Kazuha fell silent. “Was he happy? About being an Auror?” You asked.

He nodded. “It… it was his lifelong dream. I had thought of pulling that ‘stealing a Time-turner’ trick in those rumors… but I guess he wouldn't listen if I went back and asked him not to become an Auror. It would’ve been selfish of me to do that but there’s just that part of me that wanted to save him…”

You think aloud, “He wouldn't have regretted anything even in his last moments.”

“Huh?” Kazuha asked.

You’ve done it again. Why can’t you take control of what you say? You stare at him, trying not to let him know that your mind is rolling down the spiral staircase for the rest of the summer.

“You are right. It was always his dream to be an Auror. And he achieved it,” He said, looking back at you.

A few drops of rain clung to the window frame, occasionally dripping down.

“It was just… never your fault, ok? Fudge those Death Eaters, I bet they get haunted by Tomo’s ghost every night that they’ve gone insane in Alakazam,” You tell him, not minding that you’re (almost) swearing out loud in the library.

Kazuha coughed out a few laughs as he wiped off his tears. “It’s Azkaban! Why must you make a Pokemon reference here?”

You put up your most innocuous smile.

The bell rings for lunch.

“Anyways, uh,” Kazuha stutters while tidying up his stuff, “Thanks but... Sorry for… just… venting to you like that…” He blushes, red creeping up from his neck to his face.

You give him a playful slap in the back. “No biggie– as long as you’re feeling fine now.”

You walk out of the library. The thick layer of clouds have disappeared, leaving only a few droplets on the trees and the birds singing.

You part ways at the Great Hall as usual.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin kazuha #kadehara kazuha #tomokazu #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #hurt/comfort #genshin

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i-hatethisgoat · 8 months

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nitpicky fun fact: book!bentley and tv!bentley have two slightly different curses on them.

in the book, “all tapes left in a car for more than about a fortnight, metamorphose into best of queen albums”. crowley later says, "you wont enjoy it, it's been in the car for more than a fortnight." about classical tapes, that now only play queen songs. the car eventually always turns everything into one of queen’s greatest hits albums. plain and simple.

however, in the show, we see multiple instances of other music in the car. in season 1, we see velvet underground (not bebop) cds in the car that haven’t transformed yet. the classical music played when aziracrow drive away from the nunnery and when crowley is trapped in the m25 turns into queen. in season 2, aziraphale is able to get the bentley to play glenn miller’s moonlight serenade, with no issues. (this may be because of aziraphale’s angelic power willing it not to transform. also, since it isn’t a physical copy of the music in the car, the bentley doesn’t register it as something to transform anyway. it’s also possible the bentley just likes aziraphale and is lenient with the whole curse thing.)

but, there is one slight inconsistency (that i’m shocked i didn’t clock sooner). when the mozart cd turns to queen as crowley escapes the m25, the song playing is i’m in love with my car. this is a the perfect song for this scene, and i cackle at it every time i see it. however, it doesn’t feature on any of queen’s various greatest hits records. it is on their deep cuts vol. 1 record, but it is not a greatest hit in any capacity.

this leads me to believe that

tv!bentley eventually turns everything into any random queen song,

it just has a particular appreciation of that one song (which is fair, given its lyrical content), OR

after however many years, crowley has just come to expect queen, has grown fond of it, and simply subconsciously wills all tapes, records and cds to eventually become queen, regardless of their hit status.*

*this can be backed up by the bentley playing exactly what fits the mood. somebody to love, you’re my best friend, and good old fashioned lover boy, especially, but also a nightingale sang in berkeley square at the end of season 2. crowley may think it’s just the bentley conveniently reading the emotional tone of a situation, but deep down, it’s really just him.

all this to say i hope we get love of my life playing at some point during season 3.

#the queen to good omens pipeline is so real #can you tell i used to be a queen superfan?#still am actually #bentley my beloved #good omens #crowley #bentley #queen band

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whoknowsjuno · 11 months

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕤𝕖𝕥

To solve your financial problems

Money can be the biggest problem in life, especially if it is something you have struggled with your whole life. But now its time for change and the best place to change first is your mindset and beliefs towards money. 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘! Fear is just an illusion and is the reason why we may miss opportunities. If you have grown up poor and live pay check to pay check, take time to do some shadow work and see what trauma's you may have with money when you was a child. This will help you to get to the root cause of your money problems.

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑩𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑬𝑭 𝑺𝒀𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑴! It's not easy to change a belief you have had for a long time. If you grew up and knew of the financial struggles of the adults around you was always subconsciously telling yourself 'there's hardly any money' you have created a belief system within yourself. By figuring out the root cause of your money trauma you can begin to rewire your thoughts.

♡ How? ♡

Write down all your fears and negative thoughts you have about money (this can be done for other stuff too like relationships, self-esteem and bad habits). Then on a new page re-write them but in a positive way, example;

I always run out of money

I always have money

I am broke

I am wealthy

I never get promoted

I am worthy of a promotion

Keep consistent and repeat this narrative, switch your negative thoughts for positive ones creating an abundant mindset and new thought belief system. This may take a year or a week but cut out these bad habits and you will be also cutting out the self sabotage. Also remember how you treat and look at yourself is how the people around you look and treat you. Be kind to yourself and treat yourself with respect and people will see that in the way you carry yourself and treat you the same.

𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑺𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑽𝑰𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵!

ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕤 = 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒗𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝔹𝕒𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕤 = 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Bad moods liker anger, guilt, shame and sorrow keep our vibrations on a low level. It's human to feel these emotions and to express them (without causing harm to others ofc). But letting them bad emotions consume you, keeping them bad thoughts in your head will just plague you with the low vibrations, always keep in mind that your thoughts are going to manifest in your being. So instead write down all the positive feelings you have or the positive feelings you would like your negative feelings to turn to. 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄! Writing down and even just thinking regularly what you are grateful for is a good way to not only raise your vibrations but also getting into the habit of positive thinking.

Don't only align yourself with what you need but also 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓! What do you want from life? What are you going to get from life? Don't just want anything for the 'flex' but want it because it's going to better you as a person and also better the people around you. Do you want that high paying job just because it's better than your cousins? Think about how that position is going to benefit you. Practice by writing the reasons you want, what you want but in a non-greedy way. Example: I deserve a big clientele because my services are genuine. My hard work will pay off and provide me and my family with financial freedom, and the work I do now is creating generational wealth.

Writing down all that you are going to achieve is a great manifesting technique while it is also creating a positive belief system in your subconscious. Try these methods for a few months and see if you notice a change!

Juno ❣

#positivity #mindset #personal growth #moneymindset #moneymaking #money issues #life changing #financial

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itsmeglendaloraine · 4 months

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Looking back to high school...

Recently I’ve been waking up from weird, random dreams. Mostly of my high school life. My classmates and teachers were there and we were talking in circles – the usual scene when we have vacant in between classes. My classmates and I talked about the shows on television and the little realizations of our lives so far. Oh, how little did we know!

My dreams were so vivid. It felt so real. I feel like I’m in that dream. Maybe I just miss the old days. High school to me seemed so simple back then and when I left town for college, I became a whole new person. I went to a university where I never knew anyone. I was totally an alien to the place. I met new people and it was a whole new life for me.

It’s been a while since I last visited my hometown. My family and I moved to another place two years ago so maybe this is just longing. The holidays were just over and I somehow missed the travel back home. When I get to pass the places I have memories with. That feeling of nostalgia.

Now that I dreamed of this, I came to think of my classmates if they felt the same. Have they thought also of me? Have I appeared in their dreams as well? Because to me, they have. Are we in the same boat?

The funny thing about every dream is that it ends with the boyfriend I had in high school. Maybe he impacted me so much that when I think of high school, I think of the boy who made me fall in love and then broke my heart. I never saw him for so long that is why it seems very strange why he is appearing in my dreams. Ah, the subconscious mind and its funny tricks!

Anyway, I was just reflecting so much this past week knowing that a new year has just started. I think these dreams are part of it. I was looking back on how far I’ve come and how I felt like it was so long ago when in fact, it really is. I’m almost at the age when I got to double my age when I graduated from high school. But to me, there still there. When I get to think of those days, I miss them a lot.

Oh, another funny thing in my dreams with the boy was that the scenarios were totally reversed from reality. He is nice to me. He smiles at me and talks gently. Back then, I was somehow walking on tiptoes because I’ll never know his mood and there was that fear and awkward feeling in me. Maybe I’m just very young and everything is a first for me. But one of the things he taught me is to learn to express my feelings when it’s needed and that it’s nice to be with someone whom I get excited to see every time. I look forward to class days and I even performed well academically.

I broke up with him two months before graduation and weeks later, he had a new girlfriend. And I was devastated. I was hoping he’d wait until graduation but nah, he moved on so easily. And I was just as broken and torn to many pieces it was hard for me to put the pieces back together. I just hoped a lot, planned a lot, and dreamed a lot for us but then they remained in fantasy land. But I’ll always be grateful. Everything turned out to be the best.

I wrote this to process my feelings and work on that reflection. I still don’t know what those dreams are telling me but I’m thankful it happened because I got to think of the time that I first dreamed. I dreamed of a better life and a better future and my teachers made me believe that I can do great things. I’m still a work in progress, but hey, I think I am living the dream.

This is dedicated to my high school classmates, thank you for all the memories and the time we got to spend together. I hope you are all doing well and pursuing your life’s ultimate goals and dreams.

To my teachers who made me hope and dream, I wish you continue to leave an impact on young minds. Thank you for the learnings you’ve taught me.

Lastly, to that boy, when I think of high school, I think of you. You introduced me to young love and I learned a lot from it. You impacted my life way more than I can ever imagine. I wish you well and the very best in whatever you do.

To all of high school, cheers to all the memories we shared and the life we used to have! I miss all of you and I hope to see you all around. Until then.

#high school #nostalgia #reflection #writers

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lieu-rey · 3 years

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el muchacho de los ojos tristes

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lariskapargitay · 2 years

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Even MORE Pepa and Félix headcanons bc I can’t sleep after my night shift and spent all night thinking of them and loving them.

Pepa was always a little self conscious about the gap in her teeth and didn’t really like smiling bc of it. Félix told her one day that he loved her smile and that it was unique, and it was bc of that she stopped caring so much

The year it took to build back Casita everyone was very unsure about what Pepa was feeling and how to interact with her bc they were so used to her, literally, wearing her emotions on her sleeve, even her own kids were cautious and unsure. Félix was the only one who knew exactly what she was feeling even without the weather to help guide him

Camilo got Pepa her sun earrings for Mothers Day

The biggest fight they ever got into was when Félix spanked a 5 yr old Camilo after they refused to stop mimicking their father. (Alma, for all her issues, never laid a single hand on any of her kids or grandkids. She had them do physical labor when they needed to be punished). The hurricane nearly wiped out half the Encanto when she found out Félix spanked Camilo and he finally agreed, more to calm her down and stop the flooding then believing that he shouldn’t use physical punishment, not to spank any of the kids again

Pepa ADORES when at the end of the day she takes down her braid and Félix runs his fingers through her hair. That’s what soothes and calms her down the easiest and quickest is Félix playing with her hair (which is why when she gets super stressed she tries to comb though her braid bc she’s subconsciously trying to achieve that same feeling)

She’s used to her rain no matter how wet she gets but she HATES the snow.

Inside her room is the only place where her mood doesn’t affect the outside world, just her.

It was Félix who introduced Augustin to Julieta. They were friends from school and Félix thought that the shy quiet nerdy tax accountant deserved some fun in his life

Augustin was orphaned by similar violence that killed Pedro and he made his way to Encanto, a place for all victims of and refugees fleeing from violence on his own at 8 years old

Félix tried SO hard to get Augustin in good with the less than impressed Alma but no matter what they did it always seemed to backfire

It wasn’t until Alma saw Augustin playing piano for Julieta one night when and saw the soft gentle in love smile she wore, the same smile Alma wore when Pedro would play for her, that she said it was okay for him to join the family

Félix understood Bruno didn’t make things happen but he also knew his prophecies tended to always be depressing or dangerous

None of Pepa’s pregnancies were planned like Juliette’s were, they just sorta happened accidentally.

When she found out she was pregnant with Antonio, Alma was actually upset with her bc she didn’t know if the magic had reached its limits with Maribel and bringing another gift less child into the house. She froze half the city because she was so scared and upset the entire pregnancy

Félix secretly loves when his wife gets mad or upset and argues with him, as rare as it is, because he knows that Pepa knows he’s not gonna tell her to calm down or stop being so emotional

Pepa will never admit it but she loves being the little spoon

She loves sleeping face to face in his arms even more though

No matter what position they fall asleep in, it is inevitable that sometime during the night, Felix’s chest will become her pillow

Just like inevitably, at least three times a days, Pepa’s hips will become his hand rest

Pepa and Félix didn’t believe that Maribel tried to ruin Antonio’s night bc they knew how much she loves her cousin, but they were a little upset that she didn’t wait until after the party to tell or take Alma off to the side to tell her about the candle and house rather than announce it to the whole party

She nearly died of embarrassment when they had a quick little romp in an abandoned barn and it got SUPER hot and humid out, to the point no one could hardly breathe and most people, including Alma, Bruno and Julieta, had a pretty good idea what brought this sudden humidity

It also thunders when he teases her and withholds what she wants, which happens to be one of his favorite things to do.

He loves tying her up, blind folding her, and getting her as worked up as he can until the thunder and lightning is so loud you can’t even hear yourself think

She always was sorta self conscious that she was slender and not really that curvy like a lot of other Colombian women, and was made fun of in school for ‘having the body type of a 10 yr old boy’ but the first time Félix saw her without clothes, he sprang to IMMEDIATE attention and couldn’t take his eyes or his hands off her

Pepa gets all the way off when he’s on top and laying between her legs and she can barely wrap them around him he’s so thick snd stocky

But she also loves the way he looks at her when she’s on top and he gets to see everything. It makes her feel powerful and sexy in a way that nothing or nobody else ever manages to make her feel

#félix x pepa #pepa madrigal #pepa headcanon #encanto pepa #encanto felix #encanto #i love pepa #tia pepa #tio Félix #la familia madrigal

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dienamights · 3 years

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Ex’s and O’s | K.Bakugou

» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

» Word count: 6.7K

» Genre: hurt/comfort, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au

» Summary: Its bad enough that you’re spending your ex-boyfriend’s birthday curled up in bed, wearing his merch, drinking away your sorrows, but what’s even worse is having your eardrums pierced by the blaring music upstairs at the party thrown just for him.

» Warning(s): Smut 18+ MDNI please, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, dubcon since reader is under the influence while getting dicked down, drunk sex, oral sex and fingering (female receiving, we getting fed tonight), one pussy slap lol, manipulation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

» Author’s notes: Hello! aaaah I’m actually pretty excited about posting this fic! First of all, its Bakuhoe’s birthday! and what better way to honor it than to feed you all some good ol angst sprinkled in with some good dickin’ down. Its been years since I’ve written smut and I’m actually really fuckin proud of it, yet real nervous but I hope you enjoy! Secondly, this fic is a part of Bakugous Birthday Bash! I’m so excited to read everyone’s work, thank you everyone for holding this event and allowing my ass participate to create this with you all ♡ be sure to read everyone’s contributions, I know it’ll be more than amazing since everyone worked so hard!

Happy Birthday to our favorite King Explosion Murder♡♡

Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their support and helping me reach 200 followers already! You guys are the cutest thing ever and I promise I’ll update more frequent the minute I’m out of uni late june fml, thank you @tteokdoroki for giggling with me when i wrote cock for the first time lol

» Masterlist | Requests

Rolling out of bed and flailing onto the floor as a start of your day ensures you that the following 24 hours will ultimately suck ass. Getting up and readying yourself for the day by looking through one of your cardboard boxes for your favorite Dynamight hoodie, the back of your mind keeps nagging you, trying to remind you of something buried deep in your subconsciousness, and you have half a heart to try and remember, because for some odd reason, you feel so fucking weary, as if the few steps from your bed to your bathroom are somehow now endless miles, almost making you breathe out in relief after finally reaching it.

And as you are making your coffee, that odd feeling keeps annoying you again, prodding at your brain to remember something, something. And ultimately, that's when your eyes fall to the counter. You knew this day was coming and you were dreading it for months, so as you look at the calendar on your kitchen counter, you frown, the quote of the day you always love reading so much long forgotten when your eyes fall on the date.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin' me.” You mumble at the calendar on your counter hatefully with furrowed eyebrows, as if it would either reply or change its date, it doesn’t do either, and your lips curl downwards even further. As in immediate response, you pick up your phone, your coffee pot tossed aside as you dial the number of the only person you could think might help you right now.

“G’morning y/n -” you hear Kendo’s voice through your phone, and you honestly want to sob right then and there, but you hold yourself, barely and speak over her overly cheery voice first thing in the goddamn morning. “It's Kats- Bakugou’s birthday” you whimper at the slip up, being so used to the first name basis you were in with your now ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah, was kinda hoping you would’ve forgotten.” She sighs, tugging at her bangs and pulling back her phone to check the time. “Tell you what, I get off work in an hour, then I’m spending the day with you. I’ll get tequila, I know you love your shots.”

“Ken, it's like 10 right now..” you can’t help but pout, having alcohol in your system as an escape to help you forget about the entire day still sounding better than the urge to cry and crawl into a hole, even if it's at the start of your day. “Y'know what? Get those gummy worms I like too.” “Bet.” you hang up with a sigh, moving back to the kitchen to sift through your bubble wrapped kitchen utensils, barely forcing yourself to prepare breakfast as to not have your liquor on an empty stomach.

You loathe the fact that you remembered his birthday, always reminded of him no matter how long ago since you’ve last seen him, being the center of the media’s attention for years as the number 6 hero in japan has its perks, well, in his case, but to you? Nothing but trouble and heartache as every channel you flip through plasters his face, whether it be about some big rescue mission he partook in or a new rumor about a potential lover to the explosive hero, followed by him almost attacking a reporter, yelling to them about ‘needing to mind yer goddamn business and keep my fuckin’ name outta your mouths’. Therefore, you opted long ago to stay away from the TV to avoid seeing him, his captivating rubies for eyes, covered by that goddamn mask you like to push up to his forehead, sweeping his bangs away and exposing his sweaty forehead that he bumps against yours as he makes love to you, still in his hero costume, all battered and dusty and so incredibly hot you have to-

You grip your coffee mug tighter, almost to the point of breaking the handle off of it, placing it rather roughly onto the table before pushing your food away, appetite gone with the thought of whatever paradise you were thinking you were in before now long gone and never coming back, all because of you, of your action, of your mistake.

Kendo walks in with a bright smile on her face, as if her overly cheerful attitude will balance out the void you’re slowly but surely falling in. She shakes the bag of snacks in your face as you blink your eyes back into focus. Dragging your heavy feet across the floor to get to your kitchen to retrieve the shot glasses. Only kissing her cheek in thanks when you snatch away whatever it is she brought with her to lift your mood.

She eyes the boxes by your kitchen, the four placed haphazardly in your living room and the one you're using as a stool while filling your shot glasses, tongue sticking out to try and fill each one to the brim without spilling any on the new coffee table that she failed to notice before is still wrapped in bubble wrap that prevent any damage during the moving process.

“y/n…” you hum in response, a frown falling on your lips as the third glass spills a bit and the liquid pools on the plastic.

“Don't you think that you should’ve probably unpacked a while ago? Hasn't it been, what, five months?”

“I didn't know you were gonna come here to harass me about my life choices, Kendo”

She flinches away, your tone venomous, almost feeling it as a slap to her face, before leaning in when she sees your eyes start to water.

“If I did, that just means it's true… that just means it happened, and I did the stupidest thing- you know what,” you wipe the few tears that managed to escape away with the sleeve of your sweater, looking down at the shots in front of you. “It, it doesn't matter anymore just- can I just drink and try to forget about how my life has gotten nothing but fucking worse since the day I left him?”

You questioned your worth that one time, that one time all those months ago. Thinking that by doing what you did and leaving, he’d drop everything and run behind you, chase after you and win you back, but he didn't, and as you sit surrounded by the evidence of how much of a failure you find out you are without him, you regret ever questioning it, ever questioning him. Because to you, living in denial was so much better than whatever hell this is.

So all you could think of is to just drown yourself in alcohol until your mind is too numb to think of the possibilities of how you could have avoided this, how you could’ve been a less of shitty person, and stop imagining how your life would be now if you just swallowed all your insecurities and just stayed. Despite the neglect, despite not being prioritized, because in some weird twisted way, those lies held you with warmth that you were never able to find after uncovering the ugly truth you’re living in right now.

You lay on your living room floor, the alcohol swirling in your system and clouding your vision as you trace imaginary shapes in your ceiling, the voice of Kendo muffled as she rambles on and on about her day, the amount of outlaws she bitch slapped - a term she uses to get a laugh from you - and how she considers herself the unluckiest being in the whole world for having Monoma as a partner of all people, seriously contemplating who she should beat up first between him and the villains.

“Must be nice,” you voice, low and slow, scared of how Kendo would react to what you’re about to say, yet your intoxicated self unable to stop your mouth from uttering the words. “To have a purpose in life, to not be quirkless and lost like us.” your face twists in an ugly scowl at your ceiling, but mostly to yourself for putting a downer on whatever mood your friend is trying so hard to build, proven by the hitch of her breath before she enters your peripheral vision when she leans over you, all upside down and pouty.

“What’re you talki-” the shrill ringtone of her phone breaks you away from each other as she leaps to fetch it and silence the god forsaken thing by answering the call. “Battle Fist here, yes sir, I was partnered up with Phantom Thief for the patrol at area B, n-no sir I wasn’t informed.” Kendo breaths out in irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose as she starts tapping her feet aggressively on the floor, eyes falling onto yours when you look up at her all weary and sad, knowing what she would tell you once she hangs up. “That dumbass is gonna be the end of me I swear.” She crouches down to your level and kisses your forehead, promising to be back in the morning with hangover food, before she leaves and locks the door behind her.

Now you’re left all alone, back aching from laying on the hardwood floor and eyes watering as you feel your loneliness eating you up inside, the god awful music thumbing loudly in your ears followed by the cheer of people as you-

Music?

You sit up abruptly, groaning at the dizziness of the swift movement as your hands fly to cover your ears, a failed attempt of ensuring your brain doesn’t begin to spill out from them, because of the loud voices, the bass shaking your entire fucking apartment by how strong it is, and you curse yourself for falling for the scheme the landlord pulled you in, paying half of the rent everyone did, just because you lived right below the penthouse that hosted the loudest parties in the area, 4 days out of the fucking week.

The money hungry shameless bastard praised the apartment the minute it spiked your interest all those months ago, selling it so well you actually moved in the next week, anything to stop feeling like a burden to Kendo as you couch-surfed her apartment. Only to realize within that first week from your downstairs neighbors that he rents the penthouse to host parties of all sorts, and due to its location in the city, it was pretty popular, yet you didn’t have the money to move out again, nor the heart to concern your friend with your problems, as she was a hero with other responsibilities aside from taking care of your hopeless self.

So you get up, barely gathering yourself onto that elevator to tell off whoever the fuck will answer the door first to turn the music down. You pound the door with your fist repeatedly the minute you reach it, the door opening so suddenly you almost punch the man standing in front of you in the chest, the cool air created from the door cooling your warm cheeks as you squint at your victim for the day.

“Welcome!”

“Listen here, you buttfaced moron” you start to chew the person’s ear out, your sight blurring yet still able to notice how bright his hair is, how fiery and familiar it looks, and you’re certain you’ve seen it somewhere before. “I’m trying to drink away my regrettable life choices and cry over my ex-boyfriend, so if you would just turn down the-”

“y/n?” oh, that’s where. Your stomach drops as Kirishima looks down on you, the bright smile he flashed to whoever he was welcoming now dropped with his eyes almost bulging out at your presence, you both stand in silence, the boy unbuttoning the collar that suddenly feels like it has a chokehold on him while you cross your arms and hope the floor would swallow you a floor down back into the comfort of your home.

Kirishima basically is shutting down the second his eyes lay on you, breaking a sweat as your eyes never waver, despite how you fail to stay standing straight, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey we’re throwing a birthday party for your ex-boyfriend because he's been feeling depressed from the day you dumped his ass’ ? No! He wouldn’t do that to his friend, but what was he gonna say now?

Well, he didn’t have to really think about what to say to you, because his other friend didn’t hesitate to push him forward, slurring something along the lines of ‘lettin the hot ladies in so they can take a look at the prettier blond, aka moi’. In his moment of panic, the redhead stumbles forward, his cup slipping from the tips of his fingers and meeting its doom by the floor, whatever was filling it now staining your pants as you both look at the mess between you.

“Woah bro, we said you gotta get’er wet but not- '' Denki's cackle stops him from continuing whatever filth he was gonna spew out - thankfully - before his eyes drop down to your chest, or more like what was covering it. “Hey! You a Dynamight fan? Hey Bakuhoe, comere for a sec.”

Dear God, move, for the love of all that's pure in this god forsaken world, move! Run!

All you could do is shake and breathe in short segments as your widened eyes meet his unamused ones, the garnets in his eyes glistening at your sight, he stands straight and so tall, suited up in his usual attire. Dressed for the occasion, words aren't able to describe his beauty. You try not to let your brain be dazzled by how incredibly handsome he looks. He is wearing a dress shirt, in the deep color of wine that complements his eyes, dress pants hugging his long legs, not to mention the open collar, and no tie. He looks like a long, lean Lothario.

At that your eyes drop down to the floor, specifically the now stained carpet, your hands wrenching the end of your hoodie to distract yourself from the piercing rubies that haunts your dreams.

You build up some courage, enough of it to lift your head to continue what you came here to do, so you open your mouth, and drop a few IQs while you’re at it. “The m-music is loud and m’tryin’ to sleep,'' you mumble, noting how Kirishima leans down to make up the words you are saying over the sound of the blaring music while Bakugou narrows his eyes at you as if disregarding his sight will make him hear you better. “So, if you could turn down the heat, that’d be,”

“You squiffed?” The blond grunts, leaning his face close to yours to inspect it, and he catches a whiff of alcohol in your breath, his eyebrows furrowing at your response. “No I'm not squinting-”

“Yeah you’re drunk alright,” he huffs at your less than intelligent reply, pushing his glass of whiskey - you figure since it's always been his drink of choice - against Kirishima’s chest, telling him to lower the fucking volume and grabs you by your bicep. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.” you stumble at the force used against you, no matter how weak it actually is, before you barely straighten yourself to push his hand away. “I can walk down all by myself, thank you.” Of course you’d expose where you live, you dumbass.

He doesn’t question your integrity, just continues to basically drag you to the elevator before pushing your apartment door open when you choose your floor, irked to find your misplaced trust in the people of the complex by not locking your door after leaving. He barges into your bedroom and tells you to change out of your fucked up pants and proceeds to saunter to your kitchen to get you water, eyeing the boxes that he comes across during that small trip.

He stands awkwardly by the door when he sees you standing in the middle of the bedroom, sifting through countless moving boxes with your pants on the floor, thrown next to a pile of clothes that he can only assume that its supposed to be your laundry ‘basket’, until you opt against wearing any since you can't seem to find anything to replace them. And when he asks you if you just moved in, his expression sours when you shake your head no and explain to him that you’ve been living for months in this space, after chugging that cup of water like you’ve been parched for days.

“Birthday party?” You ask out of the blue as you play with the strings of your hoodie, your ears perking up at the confirmation hum you receive. “Hmm, thas’cool… I-I guess.”

Bakugou’s impassive as he gently pushes you onto your bed, eyes meeting yours as he covers you up with your blanket. “Get some rest, I’m leaving.” He said, slowly stalking away from you and barely reaching your door as your big mouth talks on its own. Your body sitting up and facing his retreating back.

“That's what you always do, you always leave”, you utter and you see him stiffen his shoulders before he spins to face you, so fast you almost want to check up on him about getting a whiplash.

“Hah?” it's one syllable, but it shakes your very core, that one sound making you almost shake, overwhelmed by the amount of emotions, the amount of pain that one sound has. He steps closer to your bed, the stomps of his feet sounding like gun shots in your ear, and you pathetically lift up the blanket to cover yourself up, cowering behind it like it's some pseudo shield that might protect you from him.

“I’m the one that leaves?” he growls at you, his eyes sizing you up when you react to his forceful approach, leaning back to look down on you, but his lips are still curled in a frown, he tries to hold himself from blowing up at you, his feelings oddly enough still raw in his chest the moment he lay eyes on you the first time since you left, threw him away and walked away, probably finding someone better, probably finding someone who you tolerated, unlike himself, but when he sees you straighten up your back to rebuttal him, an automatic response to whenever he raised his voice at you from all those years ago, he knows he is in for a fight.

He snarls when you nod at him, your eyes hard and glaring up at him, not knowing that your silence is by your better judgement since you don't trust your voice, knowing it’ll fail you, probably crack and show him how much he actually is affecting you by his closed off posture and demeaning look down at your frame.

“Real fuckin’ rich of ya, y/n.” He snaps back, his hands brought up to his hair, tugging at it. “As if you didn’t pack your shit,” he kicks at yet another cardboard box fucking spewed in your room, noting its heavy weight when it didn't move but an inch by his action. “Dropped your keys by the fuckin’ door,” as an emphasis, he throws your apartment key at you, making sure it doesn’t actually hit you, but falls onto your lap. “And left. Without a single fuckin’ word, like I'm some lowlife who didn't deserve an explanation, like I didn't deserve anything! And-” that hurt, goddamn it.

Exhaling deeply, he focuses on how your eyes look a little less glossed over, a little more sober, but holding fear, and he almost steps back and out when he looks at how you’re fighting tears, almost wanting to bust his own kneecaps than to see you like this, always wanting nothing for you but to be happy, to never upset about anything no matter how small it might be.

Then why did you leave him? Left him to drown by his lonesome self, waves of his insecurities and sorrow crashing into him, pulling him even further down to his inevitable doom.

Despite the fact that you both yearn for each other, long to feel one another, engulf yourselves in the others presence. You both stand your ground, eyes glaring despite the emotions hidden behind them, mouths shut and curled into ugly scowls regardless of the words you wish to speak to each other, whispers of promises into each other's ears about being together forever, in spite of not knowing what the future holds.

Bakugou breathes out again, recalling all those months worth of coping mechanisms to exercise when placed in anger inducing situations like this one, the time in therapy spent to better himself, to control himself, to be the best version of himself, for you, hoping that one day you’ll pity him enough to want to come back, knowing full well he would never hold a grudge against you and welcome you back with open arms, intending to never repeat whatever it is he did that made you think of him as so unbearable you couldn't spent another day with him.

You on the other hand, are barely holding in the tears, wanting him to just leave your sight, so you can go back to the world of denial where he didn't look like straight out of a magazine, looking as captivating as always, as if your absence did not have an effect on the hero, of course it wouldn't, why would a quirkless extra have an effect on the great Katsuki Bakugou, that's what he used to call them, right?

“Just leave, Bakugou-” his ears pick up the way your voice breaks at his name, the way you utter it sounds so horrendous, because you aren’t meant to call him Bakugou, you’re meant to call him Katsuki, Katsu, Suki, your Suki. Not- “I hate you.”

The room suddenly spirals. The floor panels misalign themselves into zigzags. Bakugo’s eyes shatter like a glass window. He tries to hold himself against the tears that threaten to fall, stomach wrenching as if reaching from inside of his body, but it’s useless. He brings his hand up close to his chest and sinks his head, letting the words overtake him.

Oblivious to his internal struggle, you pile whatever courage you have left in another attempt to ask him to leave, aware that your body wouldn’t aid you in pushing him away physically, you open your mouth, only to gasp after a moment of silence when he pounces on you and grabs you by the neck, sliding a hand behind your head and leaning your face impossibly closer to his “you fuckin’ hate me? show me you hate me then,”

Then he's pressing his lips against yours, your half foggy mind all too surprised by the flow of motion you can only try to keep up with his feverish kisses, you try to pull away, to push him away, to no avail, Bakugou only stopping his assault on your lips to growl at them again “Show me then, hah?”

But he wouldn't even let you, his grasp on your neck loosening to circle around your back to push you to him even more. His kisses get more and more aggressive, trying his best to show you how much he was hurt by what you said, by what you did, after all this time, almost begging you to not let him have to voice out whatever he’s feeling because he would do so much of a worse job than he is doing now.

The hands you placed on his chest in a failed attempt to push him away are now just placed over his pecs, welcoming their warmth and the way they flex under your touch, your right hand clenching over where his thumping heart is, and he almost sighs in relief, the movement feeling like it holds together all the broken pieces of his heart to make it whole again.

Almost like that gesture calmed him down, Bakugou’s rough touches start to soften, very caring as they glide to your hips before sliding underneath your - oh my God it's your special edition Dynamight hoodie! His amused chuckle tickles your lips as he pulls away when he feels you stiffen at the realization, barely letting you breathe in ease until he places his lips against your ear. “Love how m’still the only one sprawled over yer tits.”

“But I still want the real thing, lemme see ‘em, hm?” And just before throwing a dumb retort and embarrasing yourself even further, the article is tugged eagerly off of your body and thrown haphazardly on the floor. Earning yourself a low whistle when he realises you’re wearing nothing underneath. Bakugou all but shoves you onto the bed, spreading your legs when you try to rub them against each other for any friction, wedging his body neatly between them as his teeth gently bite your soft buds, pulling them slightly before captivating the nipple entirely.

His tongue flicks against your hardening nipple while keeping a watchful eye at the sinful expressions your face makes, his one hand toying with and twisting the other nipple while the other slides down to tease your needy cunt, pressing his fingers against your -fucking soaked- panties, swearing under his breath at the feeling of your walls trying to clench around his fingers just from that one movement. Sitting on his haunches, he lifts your hips with ease to pull your panties right off, eyes travelling between your heaving chest and your exposed pussy. Before lowering himself and finding comfort in biting and sucking your nipples again.

Bakugou’s smirk grows with your moans as his tongue dances over your sensitive nipples, he presses his finger against your walls, and you immediately keen at the prodding feeling that almost feels foreign after all this time apart. His thumb pushing your pussy lip to the side to see you suck his finger in like the good girl he knew you always were.

“Ba-ba-ba,” you struggle to talk, your drool collecting at your lips, stopping you from forming any words as you feel a breeze hit your spit covered tits, whining at the feeling and wanting him to pull your nipples in the warm cavern of his mouth again. Bakugou’s eyes focus on the spit line connecting his bottom lip to your nipple before disconnecting it to smash his lips against yours in an effort to shut your blabbering up.

“Ba-ba, what? y’better not be callin’ me Bakugou with my fingers deep in yer pussy baby, its Katsuki for you, yeah?” he taunts with a fake pout that immediately turns into a grin at the way you hold your pathetic sobs, pressing another finger in your tight cunt, reveling in the wet sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts his fingers in and out of it, soaking his fingers in your slick as he curls them, eager to hear the squelching sounds it would make when his cock is shoved deep inside you. “Or better yet, lemme hear you say Suki, hmm?”

“Suki- p-please, eat me out” you throw your head back and bring your hands down to play with your clit, showing him where you want his lips to be, as if the blond doesn't already know where it is, and he scoffs at the thought, slapping your hand away and giving another slap to your clit, earning a moan from you from the sharp pleasurable pain.

“Yea, yea I fuckin’ know already, needy slut,” he growls, keeping eye contact as he circles your clit with his tongue before sloppily eating out your cunt, making a mess of both drool and your arousal, mumbling “my needy slut.” to himself, and you do hear it, yet you brush it off with the thought that your lust must be messing with your brain.

Your chest still flutters at his words and your walls clench in on his fingers as he curls them again in a way you didn’t know would make you yelp like it did. He thrives off of how your body responses so easily to him, your back arching and the squelching getting louder as his fingers pick up speed, his tongue so skillful in drawing circles around your clit before sucking it again. A whine escapes you when he draws his head away from you, only for you to see the way his eyes darkens, his chin glistening from your arousal when it catches the light.

“Let go for me princess,” he whispers uncharacteristically, making you question if the glint in his eyes is from his desire for you or something else. “Lemme see you fall apart for me, alright?” the way he’s almost begging you to come undone for him takes you by surprise, and your body curls in on itself so fast, not realizing your orgasm was creeping up on you until it hits you. The knot in your stomach breaks as you gush around his fingers, white crossing your vision as he slows his pace to help you come down from your high.

Your shuddering body lays on your bed, eyes unwavering as they meet Katsuki’s, his fingers stuffed in his mouth as he moans around them at your taste. It's all a blur after seeing that unravel, and you’re so woozy that you don’t register him discarding his clothes until he lays above you. Placing himself between your legs as he pumps his cock, hardened from seeing you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, his tip leaking precum and burning a bright red.

His movement is almost too quick for you as he dips his head into your leaking hole before pulling right back, a breathless chuckle escaping him when you whine and roll your hips and try to suck him in again, wanting to feel the stretch of him inside of you.

“Didja wanna say somethin’ princess?” he taunts you, one of his hands holding you down by your stomach while the other is wrapped around his length, teasing you in the ways that he knows drive you crazy, he leans in, using the tip of his cock to spread your pussy lips open and running it along your slit to coat it with your arousal.

“Katshu, p-please I-” you hiccup, your fists tightening on your bed sheet as you try to rock your hips up get more than just his leaking tip, but your begging is always interrupted when he isn't hearing what he wants you to say.

“Say you love me.”

You freeze at his demand, your widening eyes looking up at him before you pout your lips, not thinking about surrendering to him, no matter how much you want your cunt stuffed full of him right now.

“I don’love yooou-” you gasp as katsuki’s grip onto your waist tightens and you feel as he gives a thrust into your sopping cunt, arching your back at the burning stretch of being filled up by his thick cock. Katsuki’s hand traces down your left thigh before cupping behind your knee, hiking your leg up and out, close to your chest to expose more of yourself to him, wanting nothing more than to see his dick seething in and out of your tight pretty pussy, and by almost muscle memory, you did the same thing with your right leg, replacing his hands with your own, presenting yourself to him.

“Y’see that? Fuckin’ know you like the back of m’hand, y’think someones gonna- ah, take the fucking time to work you like I did?” he's right, absolutely right, he ruined you for any other potential lovers and he loved it with every fiber in his being, knowing this means you’re always going to be wrapped around his finger. You moan as he pushes more of himself into you, bottoming out and holding one of your tits and squeezing when he feels your walls do the same to his cock.

You hate it, after all this time, you’re still a blubbering mess the second he was one fucking inch deep in your pussy, sucking him in and clawing at his back begging for more. No self respect, no dignity, you hate it, how come after all this time he gets to come here and fuck you like you belong to him, like you’ve belonged to him despite everything that has happened.

You only realize that your eyes are closed when Katsuki’s breath hits your face, and you open them wide, noting how wet your lashes have gotten from your tears, only for him to kiss at the tears gliding along your right temple and licking the ones on your left. He breathes out a chuckle and when he leans to look at your eyes, the humor and menace you expect to see in his eyes are nowhere to be found, clouded by a solemn look instead.

“What? Yer cryin on me now, huh? Y’think a few tears are stoppin’ me?” His voice is masked so well, because he sounds like he was simply enjoying a game, like an imp that had branched from a demon. “C’mon, not gonna tell the birthday boy you love’em?”

“I don't love you, I hate you, h-hate you-” you keen as drool pools at your lips, your body betraying you as it shakes from pleasure, letting go of your legs to wrap them around his slim waist, to bring him in closer, if that was even possible, stopping his deep thrusts that were brushing up against your cervix, it feels pathetic, denying him the pleasure of telling him you love him while clinging onto him like he's your last breath of fresh air, because in a way, you feel like he is, like him leaving would just collapse your lungs and stop your heart from beating, you know that he’s gonna leave you. While your spent body would lay on your bed and you'd cry because you didn't tell him you love him, yet you wouldn’t ask him to stay, knowing deep down that you don't deserve it, you don't deserve him.

You feel his weight on top of you as he rests his elbows by your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he repeats again with every shallow thrust into your warm insides, his cock twitching from time to time in your walls. “You love me.” he says it once, twice, thrice. Every time his voice lowers more and more to a broken whisper, almost a plea instead of the cocky taunt he started off with.

Your legs are starting to ache from the grip they have around him, so you loosen up, your mind easy since his thrusts haven’t been rough nor painful. And when you do, you notice two things immediately, first, your thighs are so soaked from how he's making you feel, probably ruining your bedsheet at this point, second, he pushed his chest away from yours to look you directly in the eyes, one hand molding around your thigh to keep it from wrapping around him again while the other is placed on your stomach, his thumb inching closer and closer to your clit, wanting to toy with it, toy with you, but not ready to give you any satisfaction until you admit to him, please just tell him, that you do still love him. All insecurities, all battle scars, all emotional constipation as layers he covers himself with, that no one gives a fuck to peel off, to see who he really was, except you.

His red eyes lock onto yours as your chest heaves with breathless sobs at the lost of his warmth, and when you think he's lowering himself back down, he pulls out suddenly, sending a shiver down your spine as you gasp, now feeling like you're frozen over, your tears coming from lack of both pleasure and warmth.

Suddenly your face is met with the pillow and you feel his hands on your hips as he lifts them up and off the bed, your half intoxicated, half aroused mind barely registering that you’ve been flipped over on your stomach until you feel his cock prodding at your cunt, easily sliding in like they’ve been made to be warmed up in there, when you know Katsuki would argue that your pussy was made just for him and to warm his dick.

He presses his chest against your back, pushing you onto the bed as he thrusts his hips roughly, pulling out fully before seething himself right back in, your moans and whimpers muffled by your pillow from being pushed down by his hand as his other holds your hips firmly.

Then what happened next probably shocked him more than you, despite how delirious you’ve become due to his relentless thrusting, his dripping tears feel cool on your bare warm shoulder, one by one as his groans and moans turn into strangled sobs, before Katsuki digs his teeth into that shoulder, to both hear you scream and to muffle his cries from you.

“because I love you” he sobs, detaching his teeth from their grip and kissing the bite marks before resting his forehead against it, but his thrusts never cease, getting sloppier, as if the confession is pushing him off the edge. Dragging the tip of his nose from your bitten and bleeding shoulder to the back of your ear, his own face flush and warm against you as he breathes harshly against your ear and kisses along it.

“So-” he moans again, the hand behind your neck now turning your face so he could see your fucked out expression, the tears streaming down your face and the drool that pools under your cheeks, with your tongue lolled out and your eyes barely focusing on his form.

“You better say you do too, becau-”

“I love you.” you gush, like saying it is a breath of fresh air, your eyes never leaving his teary ones, your gaze so intense and fixated on him with no regards to the way the snapping of his hips against yours is shaking your entire body against the bed.

With new found vigor from your confession, Katsuki grabs onto the meat of your ass, hammering into you from behind with force that pushes you against the bed even further, your pulled hair jerking your head back so he can listen to the lewd noises you are making, long forgotten the will to cover your pleasure and hiding your moans.

Your ass heavily slaps against his thighs as he grabs your hips with both hands and pounds into your sopping wet cunt, relishing in the way you’re begging for him. “Y’like it when I fuck you baby, hmm? Like it when I stuff you so fuckin’ full of me?” He growls, feeling you push your ass back every time you repeat ‘yes’ to his questions. “Yes, yes love it, love you, please please don’t stop, please ‘Suki. Yes, gonna cum ‘Suki please” you weep, your head pounding from the grip he had on your hair and your eyes crossing as you feel his thrusts stutter, getting sloppier when you bounce your ass against him, his hand coming down and slapping it.

“That's fuckin’ right, cum on this cock, c’mon baby” he brings four of his fingers to rub your clit with urgency, and you can’t help but arch your back as your orgasm hits you again, screeching as you feel your walls tightening on him, squeezing him for what he’s worth. “F-fuck ah, y-you’re so- Fuck” his heavy weight falls on you as he fills you to the brim with his milky seed, forehead pressed against your shoulder as he rocks his hips against you, pushing more of his load inside before slowly pulling out, gaze flutters down to where your bodies were once joined, seeing your mixed arousal seeping out of your hole and he has half a mind to push it back in with his fingers.

But he flips you over effortlessly, the sight of your crossed out eyes and wet cheeks squeezing his chest at the realization he might’ve been too rough on you, so he wipes your cheek with the palm of his hands and revels in the way you lean towards him, turning your face to kiss his palm. “Say it again.” barely a whisper, as you flip his hand and kiss the back of it as well, and he almost repeats himself, thinking you didn’t hear him, but your hands reach up and cup his face, bringing him towards you. “I love you Katsuki” and goddamn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever spoken. “Again,” “I love you, Katsuki” “Again,” you giggle, and he knows that's probably what angels sound like.

Your thumb brushes over his warm cheeks, red from showing vulnerability, and you pull him even closer, “Happy birthday, ‘Suki.”

“Yea,” He breaths out, his lips barely brushing against your bitten and bruised ones. “It really fuckin’ is.”

aaaaaaaaah! Hope you enjoyed it! Lemme know what you think of the smut, I also changed my writing style from past tenses to present tenses or tried to at least

Borrowers (taglist):

if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

SW Suddenly-Omegaverse AU: Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom

Truly the main irony of all this is that everyone considers Obi-Wan the Better Omega but Anakin is the one who's actually 👀👀👀 about pregnancy

Obi-Wan: I have the deepest respect for those who do it, but the idea of growing another person inside of me is weird and gross, no, thank you.

Meanwhile Anakin is like. Immediate baby fever. Someone actually approaches him like "hey... there are forms you can fill out to request an exception for pregnancy, and like... regulations" because he's that obvious about it.

I assume that if they've got safety nets for accidental pregnancies, then they're probably aware that there are people who want to do it on purpose? I feel like in an omegaverse where 'biological imperative to procreate' can be so much more intense, then maybe there's old precedent that stuck around even after suppressants got most of those hormones under better control.

Bit torn. Just know I want Anakin to Make Baby.

"Anakin, what are you--" "Do you think offering to be someone's surrogate would be acceptable to the council as a way to be pregnant without getting attached." "...what." "They'd probably accept that as a way to practice not getting attached, right?" "N...no, that's not... what?"

Anakin approaching Bail and Breha and being like “Do you... still want a kid? I would provide a kid. Do you want one here*?”

* in this dimension

Great way to give up the baby as a parent because he'd still be able to see them once in a while but also like... it's not HIS kid, technically. He can be a cool uncle who happened to give birth, which is distant enough to not be 'attached,' but close enough that his Tatooine-raised 'must ensure family is safe whenever possible' background doesn't flip out. It helps that 'Core World Royalty' is like... a top-tier family to be raised in.

(It would have to be post-war because he probably shouldn’t be risking his life while very pregnant. He needs to be reminded of that sometimes.)

Bail/Breha is an alpha/alpha relationship and while a pregnancy is still possible,* it’s a whole lot more difficult, and that's on top of Breha's canon medical issues that resulted in her heart and lungs getting replaced.

* AFAB alphas can get pregnant, and AMAB omegas can inseminate, but the success rate on that angle is much lower than the 'traditional' alpha/omega roles, as is any attempt at reproduction outside rut/heat. They're low-fertility overall for the non-dominant aspect of their reproductive system, which... ha, Anakin and Obi-Wan try to get explanations for why the senary system works the way it does, but it's a very longform history lesson that comes down to 'idk this got cemented so long ago that nobody really knows why anymore.'

AKA "why do you title these roles male omega and female alpha instead of intersex omega and intersex alpha since both parties have both genitals."

ANYWAY

Anakin: I want to make babies. But I don't want to get kicked out of the order. But I don't want to give up my own babies for adoption. But I can't keep my own babies if I want to stay a Jedi. So basically I want to have someone else's babies? Anakin: ...wait shit that's just surrogacy.

Anakin, calling up Obi-Wan: Hey are the Organas still struggling to have a kid? Obi-Wan: ...not really your business. Anakin: You're friends with Bail again though, right? Obi-Wan: I am, but-- Anakin: Do you think they'd want me to be a surrogate? Obi-Wan: What.

I can't decide if it's funnier for the Order to be like "I mean... technically there's no rules against this?" or if this is a precedent set by at least three omegas every generation because that's just how a/b/o manifested for omegas in a biological and cultural sense.

Bail: Wait, your former apprentice is... volunteering... to be our surrogate. Obi-Wan, exhausted: Yes. Bail: He barely knows us. Obi-Wan: He respects you and you're the closest people he knows that want a child and would be good parents. Bail: And he's just... volunteering? Obi-Wan: Yes. Also, you did say your primary worry was that a surrogate might be targeted for assassination and you couldn't ask someone to risk that, right? Anakin is very much able to avoid assassins, and would be staying primarily in the Temple anyway. Very safe, and not particularly scared of assassins in the first place. Bail: Your words say you approve, but your tone says otherwise. Obi-Wan: Anakin considers me his father. I'm not old enough to be a grandparent. Bail: Ah.

Anakin is a surrogate and enjoys it and everything is fine and then like a year later he's accidentally pregnant with his own and Rex's kid, and nobody knows how to ask if it's actually an accident.

A suggestion from @gelpenss:

OH MAN i.... have to drive home. But I just had a thought about like. I always want to poke at Betas in A/B/O like are they “normal” or different from our standard or.... but ANYWAY assuming they have a pheromonal thing I just think it would be neat if betas had the ability to be the Bucket of Cold Water. Like if caught early enough, and with the caveat it’s not permanent, a beta could arrest a rut or heat in its tracks until a more ideal time. Like. They aren’t birth control. But they are the remind me later button.

Okay done driving I am Returned to bring up why I brought up betas and it’s this: well okay 1. It plays nice with a popular but inaccurate dog breeding urban legend that female dogs will like, delay heat cycles? so that the bitches above them in pack hierarchy have first choice of mate selection. And I think in omegaverse it would be cool if that was a Bio Fact, and also historically enforced by the third designation. 2. It gives me an excuse to have betas have the Most Sensitive sense of smell because it’s their “job” to pick up on things before they go too far to be put on pause. 3. I’m just thinkin ‘bout a beta clone [...] just hovering around Obi-Wan because they found out how much stress his heat cycle causes and they’re like “okay cool I will help make sure it does Not”

I want to like a/b/o verses but betas niggle at me. I want to give them a hat and a Function that woulda helped before modern medicine.

I'm not sure how I feel about betas being able to delay heats, but I do like the idea of them having a more sensitive sense of pheromone smell than most. Most aliens assume it's omegas with the best sense of smell, and betas with the worst, but it's more complicated than that because they all specialize: Alphas are actually less attuned to pheromone smells, but more attuned to things that were useful back when humans were still a hunter-gatherer species. Omegas tend to be heightened towards danger smells like fire or aggression, and pheromones relating to children/care. Betas, as suggested above, are very sensitive to pheromone changes relating to mood and behavior of the community around them.

I like the idea that betas were historically the ones that ended up taking care children, unmated omegas, and so on during people's heats and ruts, because they kept their heads about themselves long enough to do things like cook and clean while someone was reeking of hormones. The checks and balances work out that betas may have lower fertility, but it makes them better able to support the network around them.

It works in with humanity's general collective history of thriving the most when working as a community.

Given that I decided that this is Jangobi, the clones might all subconsciously view Obi-Wan as Mom. Not intentionally, but, you know... Obi-Wan the not-evil stepmother. He doesn't know how he got into this situation, but he sure is here, and he sure as hell doesn't know how to get out.

Obi-Wan "I don't need to get pregnant, I have three million stepchildren" Kenobi

I definitely love "clones all want to make Obi-Wan's heats less stressful" but like in a different way from Whatever The Fuck Anakin's Got Going On.

Obi-Wan using the force to dull the pain in a Shiny's broken leg while the medic works on it and the Shiny just mumbles "Thanks mom" and everyone gets very embarrassed and pretends it didn't happen.

But then it happens again. And again.

Obi-Wan asks for an explanation from Cody and gets a halting response that, since Jango is technically their father, and his scent has been all over Obi-Wan recently... and Obi-Wan puts in a lot of effort to take care of them all.......

Anakin overhears the clones calling Obi-Wan "mom" and just. The most judgmental eyebrow raise.... Mostly in the sense of "You never let me call you dad" "Thought you said you weren't anyone's parent." "Hey, hey, Obi-Wan. What the fuck."

BOBA. BOBA ABSOLUTELY CALLS OBI-WAN MOM WHENEVER POSSIBLE. IT'S DEEPLY FRUSTRATING.

Obi-Wan eventually manages to admit that he's uncomfortable with it at minimum because of the gendering the word has for him, can they at least use the neutral 'buir' instead?

Word spreads like fire, takes like two days max for everyone to switch.

(Anakin demands cuddles as compensation for not getting to call Obi-Wan any true parental term for years.)

#Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Bail Organa #Rexwalker #Jangobi #Captain Rex #Commander Cody #Boba Fett #star wars #the clone wars #omegaverse #SW Suddenly Omegaverse #mpreg tw #phoenix posts

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0risha · 3 years

Text

RECOGNITION

series m.list

PAIRING : sukuna x fem!reader

SUMMARY : when an exchange student comes to jujutsu tech, Itadori is set on finding out why the King of curses is so interested in you.

TAGS : fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, jjk anime spoilers, some curse words, reader is described as a black female

NOTES : i’ve read a couple of works where sukuna meets his reincarnated lover so I wanted to try it out too, hope you enjoy. was supposed to make progress with my wips but I was in a sukuna mood. (◕ᴗ◕✿)

Sukuna feels your presence before he sees you. It’s one of those cliché moments where time puts its hand up to signal a standstill. Yuuji can feel it too when you pass by, your long braids swishing with each step.

He’s sure that he’s never seen you before but his shared body buzzes in remembrance. All the while, his emotions are overtaken by the unbridled feeling of wanting.

After that, Itadori never took it upon himself to ask Sukuna about the matter because the curse didn’t seem to want to.

Sukuna had become more and more suppressed, his usual pop-ups were a rare occurrence, even when Megumi was around. However, for the whole month you’d been at Jujutsu Tech, the King of curses had been intent on observing from his throne of woven carcasses, body hunched over to just watch.

You’re an exchange student, Itadori recalls Gojo’s past conversation about a new second-year that would be coming from the states. You’re strong — at first, Itadori couldn’t help but think that this revelation was the reason for Sukuna’s interest —your cursed energy being perfect sediment for close combat and dealing precise blows, all the same, Itadori could feel a grappling hook of something that seemed to be festering.

It’s dark and brooding and it stirs every time you come into contact with him. And Yuuji thinks he might go crazy because he wants to know your connection with Sukuna and it’s not like he can ask you because your aura screams — unapproachable.

His chance comes when all the first-years are assigned to a mission, you're there for extra measure. Gojo’s shaman instincts telling him that this mission was far too exceeding for him, Nobara, and Megumi.

Though just as Gojo predicted, it goes terribly wrong and Itadori keels over with an empty hollow where his heart should be.

His last thoughts are consumed with a screeching mantra of his late grandfather’s words. In the crevice of his flickering mind, they're big bold letters that drip with poisoned regret.

Before his vision goes black, the last thing he sees is a heart-broken Megumi and your face which is flooded with guilt.

When Itadori comes face to face with the King of curses, the stench of rotting death overpowering his senses, he mulls over the terms laid out by Sukuna to come back, alive.

To be reunited with his friends and become some type of savior —sukuna's words, not his— he'd give up the reigns of his body so Sukuna could talk to you whenever he chose.

For the exchange of his life, the rules weren’t bad, a part of him knows that this selfish override could cause problems for you in the future, but he still agrees.

When he wakes up to a pure white ceiling and the smell of bleach he doesn’t expect to see you towering over him. Moving up to a sitting position, his cheeks nearly bleed red because he’s naked. His eyes frantically flit over to Gojo who’s sitting in the corner of the room, watching the exchange. The white-haired sorcerer shrugs in a ridiculed manner —silently telling Itadori that it wasn’t his problem.

“You called me,” your voice filters through the bright room. His eyebrows crinkle in confusion. Sukuna must've did something.

When his eyes flit back to you, he’s met with your monotone expression, your cascade of braids framing your face. And for the third time in his life, he’s scared.

Your cursed energy, which for your level should leave little to no residual, is flaring with onyx undertones. Its sharpened jaws nearing closer and closer to Itadori in a beckoning manner. He's not sure why it's visible in the first place.

Gojo stays silent.

Brat, let me out. Sukuna, for the first time in weeks, pops up with a wide mouth on the palm of his hand. Without a second thought, Itadori allows him.

Whilst wading in his domain of subconsciousness, he watches the exchange. Your expression stays the same as you study Sukuna’s marked face.

“So hostile,” Sukuna bares, his powerful aura sifting through the room. You roll your eyes and crack a smile. Seamlessly ignoring the other man in the room— who you know Sukuna has a grudge with.

“Am I not supposed to be?” you cross your arms and ask. “Being friendly would get me in trouble.”

“You remember me?” The King of curses cuts straight to the point, the question being so unexpected that Gojo shuffles in his seat, his spine rigid with anticipation.

You nod stiffly. "I didn’t at first, not fully at least, but after coming into contact a few times, yeah.”

“It’s a shame I don’t have control over this body,” Sukuna presses a palm to your cheek, no doubt a loving caress. His deep baritone voice causing your skin to erupt into a turnpike for goosebumps to situate. “Do you remember how we parted last?”

“A sorcerer killed me or something,” you scratch the back of your neck under his intense stare. “Right through here,” you confess, pointing to the middle of your sternum.

“And you’ve become one?” Sukuna quirks an eyebrow, shoulders stiff with anger.

“I didn’t even know I knew you until a month ago, calm down,” you wave in dismissal. Itadori takes note in the way Sukuna visibly relaxes, your words washing him in a bucket of warmth. “Is that all? I’ve got a mission in thirty minutes.”

“I’m coming with you.” Sukuna jumps off the steel table, his bare feet touching the cool ground. You turn your eyes away from the bottom half of his body, ears growing hot in embarrassment.

“Eh? Is that allowed?” You turn to Gojo who’s still analyzing the situation beforehand and he shrugs with complacency. “Don’t let anyone see him,” Gojo warns, his stare serious even under his blindfold. You're not exactly sure what Gojo's thinking but you grasp the opportunity.

When you leave the autopsy room with a naked Sukuna by your side, careful to avoid any areas where Sukuna’s aura might be felt, you make it to Itadori’s dorm.

“Here.” You throw him Yuuji’s formal uniform and a pair of brown boots you find in the corner of his room. “I’m not wearing this,” Sukuna interjects.

“Huh?” Your upper lip curls up in confusion. “Then you’re not coming with me.” You turn to leave but he catches your arm in a tight grip.

“Fine, since you’re so damn adamant.” He releases his grip on your arm to slip into Yuuji’s clothes, when he finishes he turns to you with a glare.

“Good boy,” you praise, patting his tattooed cheek.

Internally, Itadori’s too bewildered to tease the curse. In all of his time spent with Sukuna in his body, he’s never seen the King of curses voluntarily listen to somebody else’s demands. The murky water he stands in ripples as he sits to observe everything that’s transpiring.

When you both reach the site you were assigned to, you sigh in annoyance. “What is it?” Sukuna asks, hands in pockets as he studies your face.

“I was hoping to have an easy day, they’re not dangerous or anything but there’s more than a dozen in there.” You point to the abandoned building, its steel beams bending with age.

“I’ll exorcise them for you.”

This is going completely against this guy’s morals, Yuuji thinks.

Your eyebrows fly to your forehead as you grow giddy with happiness. “Really?” You exclaim clambering up to wrap him in a hug.

“If you don’t let go, I won’t.” He grumbles, head in your neck while inhaling your sweet scent.

“Okayyy,” you inhale, trailing off, Sukuna not too far behind.

The exorcism is completed in fifteen seconds, tops. You stare in amazement at his lithe movements. His sharp fingers extinguishing cores with precise stabs— the same way he did his vessel. When he’s done he turns to you with an eyebrow raised, his hands wet with unspoken substance. You turn away with a humph.

“Was it not fast enough?” He walks towards you, concern written all over his expression.

“It was too fast,” you proclaim.

“Huh?”

“You’re a show-off,” you turn to exit the building, your braids whizzing past his face. You hear his roaring laughter behind you as you make it outside.

The smell of freshly churned earth enters your nostrils as you walk down a fenced sidewalk with bent daffodils. “Where are we going?”

“A ramen shop.” His gaze flicks over to study your face which is softened with what seems to be tranquility. His heart tides over with pride once he realizes that you feel content with him, a 1000-year-old curse.

However, he knows it’s the result of your memories that tie in with his; shared massacres and intertwined fates. Multiple restarts of what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of mingled hearts. But this time jump was different than the others.

You being a sorcerer is not the only obstacle, at all.

“Sukuna? Hey– you’re spacing out.” You wave a hand in front of his face to grab his attention.

“We’re here.” He looks up to see a small ramen shop, its logo old with age. As he enters the shop, he somehow finds contentment in being in a place that you like.

—

“You know you’re probably attracting sorcerers and curses alike as we speak?” You inquire, grabbing your ramen bowl from the waiter who nervously glances at Sukuna. His tattooed face also attracting unwanted attention.

“Mhm, I’ll just kill them if they interfere.” You whip your head to turn to the waiter who you’re relieved to see, had already left.

“I knew you’d say that,” you stuff your face with a handful of steaming noodles.

“Sukuna?”

“Mhm?”

“What’s gonna happen between us?” You flick your index finger back and forth. “It’s not like the other times, I’m a dedicated sorcerer.”

“So?”

“You’re the King of curses, I’m a sorcerer.” You repeat, dropping your wooden chopsticks to place your head on your propped fist.

“Already made a deal with the brat, I can talk to you whenever and wherever I want,” he pulls his face closer to yours.

“Yeah? What happens when they execute Itadori?” You curl your hands into balled fists, an unfamiliar emotion welling up in your throat. Somehow, it doesn't fit. It crosses your veins in a parasitic manner and your eyes glaze over.

“I’ll just come back.” He states matter of factly, voice coated with arrogance.

“You promise?” You whisper, holding out your pinky finger. You nearly scoff at your own action.

Ignoring the finger you bare out, he presses his lips against yours. It’s the same as he can remember, centuries ago. His body elates with a hum of electricity. And it's as if his body's creating a second space of void in which he feels his every sense being sharpened; the smooth curve of your full lips and the salty taste of previous ramen.

But before the kiss can go any further, you're pulling back.

“That was uh…” You blink once, twice, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. When you look back to Sukuna, you instead are met with Itadori’s clear face.

“The hell are you doing, brat?” Sukuna bares his teeth on the right side of Itadori’s cheek. ”I- I’m sorry just got a little uh.. flustered.”

“The fuck are you getting flustered for?” Sukuna growls.

“I- uh..”

“It’s okay Yuuji, you can switch again another time,” you sympathize with the boy. His cheeks are coated in red.

“It’s getting late, eat some ramen so we can go.” You chuckle. Itadori nods as his hand reaches towards a pair of chopsticks.

“Touch my ramen and I’ll kill you again, you damn brat.”

back to m.list

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x poc reader #sukuna x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk x poc reader #jjk x poc!reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x you #itadori x reader #itadori x poc reader #itadori x black reader #anime x black!reader

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selinakidreams · 3 years

Text

hello!! this is my first ever collab and man o man am I happy to be participating in @buttershouse ‘s Magic March with so many talented people!! Please go check out everyone’s work, there’s so many delicious pieces to choose from.

without further a-due, please enjoy this 7k word mash of a magic coffee shop/witch/ college au that I have goin here

pairing: Sero Hanta (with a FUCKIN UNDERCUT !) x gn!reader (afab)

warnings: she’s WHOLESOME, implied sexual themes throughout and then actual smut at the end !! , sex on aphrodisiacs

a/n: thank you so so so so so so so much to @keishinslove @hiddenbluee @spikesbimbo @scorpiomoonslutt and @dymphnasprose for reading and beta-ing this big boi- you guys helped me so much and 🥺🥺 you guys seriously mean the world to me.

tag list: @hiddenbluee @undersero @sawam0chi

“Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble,” you hum as you steep black tea before shifting to the other part of your station so you could add the guise of vanilla to the milk you were about to steam.

You hear a snort come from your coworker as she looks over to you before smirking, “You think you’re so funny,” she teases while heating up a chocolate muffin for the current order.

“I do, I really do,” you muse, holding the metal pitcher up to the espresso machine’s steam wand. The distinct smell of the liquid luck wafts around as you begin blending it in with the milk; it makes you smile, a comfortingly warm feeling washing over you.

You always hoped people stepped into the shop hearing about the rumors and whole-heartedly believed them; believing in the magic that went into each drink when they ordered something off of the special menus- and that it wasn’t just for the unique taste.

When you first started out, you often heard that with each new employee, the magical feeling tends to die out sooner or later; the happiness of creating spells and potions for others fleeting with the ever-growing pessimism towards all things unexplainable. After working at the shop for three years, one would think the feeling would have caught up to you, instead you felt anything but. With each new regular whose eyes sparkled with excitement as you handed them their unique concoction of a drink, your smile grew wider. Sometimes the familiar faces would come back and whisper about how each drink gave them the right energy to deal with each individual situation… almost like magic. You could do nothing but smile, sometimes a coy little wink was added, exciting the customer more and more. They'd leave with a newfound pep in their step. That's what has kept you going for so long. All anyone ever has to do was keep an open mind and believe that true magic does exist, and when you do, it's almost as though a door opens up, full of delightful possibilities.

As you called out the finished order and thanked the satisfied customer, the shop’s entrance bell chimed, welcoming in the newest one.

You look up and made eye contact with someone who seemed oddly familiar; you tend to remember almost every person that has shown up more than twice at the cafe, so the fact that you can't fully recognize him only shows that the cafe couldn't have been where you’ve known him from... You couldn't quite put your finger on where you've seen him before but you definitely couldn't forget the welcoming aura he radiated. With his black hair pulled into a ponytail, exposing his undercut, and his extra large t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame, he flashed a bright smile, heading up to the counter to order.

Accustomed to ‘hey’s, ‘hi’s, or even an immediate order, the first thing out of his mouth somewhat surprised you. With a tilt of the head and a squint of the eyes, he mumbled out, “.. You look really familiar.” as he tried to place the face.

“You know, I was thinking the same thing...” you trailed off.

After a few seconds of analysis with no conclusion, he seemed to shrug and let out a little chuckle with a passive “it'll probably come to me in the middle of my next class…” before his eyes caught sight of the menus off to the side. Not wanting to make it too obvious that you were tempted to stare, you aimed your gaze elsewhere, only occasionally sneaking a glance at him while he was preoccupied with the menu.

“Ahh… can I get…” he kept his sights on all the options he could, as if it was going to make him any more decisive. Part of you hoped to hear something special, something magical, only to hear, “uhh a… hot latte please?”

While a very solid drink, you subconsciously waited to hear a flavor come after it; staring at him, almost in a daze.

“Did I forget something...?” Your eyes grew wide, mind blank, trying to come up with an excuse for the elongated silence but before you could spout something out, his smile grew as he rolled his eyes, “Oh, duh, I forgot the size!” A breathy laugh came after his revelation and your chest felt lighter once the sound hit your ears. “Could I get a large please?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” you chime as you grab a large paper cup and mark down his order with a sharpie.“Will that be all for you today?” looking back up at him, your customer service smile makes its awaited appearance like clockwork as it did when wrapping up every order. His eyes darted to the full pastry case before he could conclude, causing an actual smile to grace your lips, “Tempted?”

“One way or another, yea,” he said with an undertone of something else being implied, causing your cheeks to heat up. The smile that he threw in there further caused a little flutter of your heart.

“Well luckily for you, we just restocked, so you've got a wide range of goodies to choose from.”

He licked his bottom lip and smoothly responded with, “Well which is your favorite?”

“My favorite? Hmm… Well, I always love a good chocolate croissant whenever I'm drinking regular lattes. The chocolate adds in that kick of sweetness that compliments the lack thereof with the coffee and bonus, it's not too heavy where it will make you feel bloated.``

“You really know how to sell a guy… That sounds amazing. Could I have that, please?” the tone in his voice was playful, fun, possibly flirty- and that was something that you were not going to think about. He’s a customer; he might not come back when he wants his next cup of coffee.

“You want me to warm it up for you?”

“Sure!”

Picking up the prongs, you took the freshest croissant from the batch and placed it in the microwave oven, turning back around.

You voiced his total with a soft smile, “Cash or card?”

“Card. uh .. Can I leave a tip on here?”

Cue the airy sigh that left your chest. A man who knows to leave a tip: you were in love with him already.

“Yea!” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Yea, once you remove your card, the option should pop up on the screen!”

You throw one more smile back at him before turning around to start his drink, not missing the incredibly hard stare your coworker was giving you. You try not to look at them throughout the duration of making his drink.

Handing the handsome man his order, your hands lightly brushed against his and you fought hard to ignore the hefty thump in your chest. You looked back up at him and swore that there was a tint of rose dusted across his cheeks.

You saw the beginning of his outburst before you could hear it.

“Sero!” he said quickly, “Sero Hanta. That’s my name.”

You smiled, sticking out your hand and saying your name, “I’ll be sure to remember it… Sero.”

The rest of the shift went by pretty quick after that. Your coworker couldn't keep their mouth shut about how he was flirting with you and how you just so happened to be flirting back. You two were giggling so much that the rest of the shift just seemed to slip away and before you know it, it was time to clock out.

“Is there anything you want me to do before I head out?” you shout, asking the newly present night shift as you’re halfway out the door.

“No no, we got it,” both your coworkers chime, “just hurry up and get to class!” one of them adds.

Rolling your eyes, you wave goodbye, double checking that everything needed for class was in your bag before fully lugging one of the straps onto your shoulder and heading off.

The walk wasn't that far from the shop, luckily- taking your time and enjoying the world around you was such a cooldown from the hustle and bustle of your work shifts.

The college town was quaint, warm, homely; It felt like everywhere was a short walk away- which it was. There was an ample amount of time for you to stroll to class after one of your shifts.

As you peruse down the street, you took note of how bright it felt this time of day and how soft the glow emanating from the sunlight hitting the trees was; the kiss of the sun heated your skin, allowing you to bask in the warmth of everything: the environment, the vibe, the mood. What a great feeling.

Random thoughts passed in and out of your brain as you got to the entrance of campus- but the continuous train of thought halted at the station when the image of that man who came into the shop, the one with the undercut- Sero Hanta, popped up.

He was really attractive… where had you seen him before?

You mindlessly head towards the lecture hall, with the image of Sero’s face ever present behind your eyelids. The approaching building was a beautiful brick with ivy climbing up the side, a framed golden plaque near the large double doors announced that people were about to enter the Mirai Sasaki building- something you would normally stop to admire but today, you headed straight inside and towards your seat, still mentally preoccupied.

Plopping down, you situate yourself, getting everything out; your textbook, notebook, pens, pencils and even a highlighter. You take a deep breath before slightly shaking your mind to wake up and concentrate on the human sexuality lecture that was about to start. Sero Hanta can wait.

Is what you told yourself and yet, the thought of him wouldn't leave you alone. It went so far as even hearing the professor call out his name.

“So, I just wanted to clarify,” your ears perk up at the voice, “The article you gave us was about how unequal the orgasm ratio- the orgasm gap- is for women… but I feel like there is a new wave of um… feminine orgasm appreciation. Not to get too personal, but I know between my friends and I, we make sure that our partners always come… first.” He trailed off at the last part, probably coming to terms with the awkward phrasing he had ended with.

You had to take a second to get a grip; too many things were happening at once and the one that held most of your attention was the fact that Sero Hanta blatantly admitted to wanting the girl to orgasm first.

What a gentleman.

“Thank you for your… input … mister Sero- but with what you pointed out, it’s actually a perfect segway into the first project of the semester! If you notice in your syllabus, I typed a very vague title for the next class’s date. We're going to talk about it more next class but until then, please read the assigned articles by the next class and have a good rest of your day!”

While the majority of the class was packed and headed to the door, your eyes stayed glued on Sero as you mindlessly put things away. It seemed as though he was taking his time as well. Maybe he needed to talk to the professor?

Seeing that your desk was now cleared, you slowly began descending down the stairs to get to the floor level, eyes glued to each step in front of you, mind somewhere completely different until your head is met with a firm back. With wide eyes, you step back and begin a stream of apologies, head bowed and eyes still on the floor as if you didn’t learn your lesson the first time. A warm chuckle hushes you accompanied with a light, “It’s alright, it’s alright!”

You look back up and are met with the mind-dizzying smile of the man who failed to leave your thoughts alone.

Before your eyes could get any bigger, he murmurs your name. “So this is where I know you from!” He slightly cheered, lopsided grin growing comfortable.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ 12 oz Time Flies with soy milk, hot; cinnamon orange black tea latte brewed with charmed orange peel to bring back the most nostalgic feelings (add a shot of our very own vanilla -liquid luck- to help Luck stay on your side!)˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

“Hey! Hey- you guys aren't closing are you?” You hear a panting voice rush through the door- the complete opposite of the energy the cafe currently held. You and your coworker were just winding down from your shift, cleaning and making sure everything was restocked for the next shift, soft music aiding the mood.

Sero was attempting to collect himself when he realized the two pairs of stunned eyes staring at him.

“I just- I wanted to walk with you to class. If that’s cool,” he said to you, flattening his shirt down, “and maybe get a coffee.”

Warmth fills your face as you try to suppress a smirk, “in that order?”

The already flustered college student blushed just a bit harder. Before he could come up with a response, your smirk eased into a soft smile, “okay Sero, what could I get you to drink?”

He steps further inside and orders the same thing he got the first time: a large hot latte. It doesn't take long until the drink is in his hand and you're shooing him off to a table, “I’ll be done in like 10 minutes, is that alright?” you ask, hints of your customer service mannerisms kicking in. He nods and you get back to cleaning, unaware that your movements became a bit swifter.

After clocking out, you’re met with an eager grin and a glint of something unnameable in sero’s eyes.

“The coffee was excellent, by the way. Both times I had it. Do you do something to it? I feel like it’s so much more than just a simple latte.”

You smile at two things, him opening the door for you, and the fact that he was absolutely oblivious to the fact that his drink is one of the few drinks you don’t add any magical properties to.

“I make it with kindness.” You say as you two start your walk, intertwining your hands behind you.

“So mister Hanta… have you been stalking me?”

His eyes grow wide as his cheeks taint red, “N-no! I just thought that maybe you work every shift that’s before our class.”

“Hmmm… So were you going to come by every day to test out your theory if i wasn't there today?”

“Well, luckily you were there, so I guess we’ll never know the answer.”

After you hummed out a response, the walk turned into a comfortable type of silent.

The both of you had several things passing through your mind, but outwardly, one was caught up basking in the fresh spring air while the other was admiring how the wind would slightly shift your hair.

Deciding to break the silence, you turned to face him, “Hey, so, why did you choose to take human sexuality?”

He didn't seem surprised to hear the question but he took a moment; it didn't seem like he was scrambling to find the perfect answer, it was almost like he just couldn't properly find the words.

“Honestly, I love intimacy. I think its really cool that not one person’s views on sex and sexuality and the miniscule details within it, are the same.”

While the words you were hearing made sense, it must have shown that you weren't prepared for such an insightful answer because he let out a hearty laugh that seemed to go on and on, even after he took a deep inhale.

“I’m sorry-” he choked out as he grabbed his chest, “your face just-” he gulped another breath of air, trying to regain composure.

Throughout his fit of laughter, you almost joined in a few times if it weren’t for you biting your cheek in attempts to keep the annoyed facade up.

As soon as it seemed like he got it all out, you try to pull a convincing pout.

“So what's the real answer, then?”

He cocks his head at your question, a smile still playing on his lips, “whaddya mean?”

“You're telling me that what you said wasn't just to catch me off guard?”

“Oh! No no, that's really why I'm taking the class. But i bet you thought i was going to say something asshole-y like ‘i just wanna learn more about sex so i could be better’, hm?” he said the last part in a dopey voice before smirking back at you.

You rolled your eyes in return, “not necessarily, that was just a really… refreshing… answer.”

By the time you got to class, it seemed pretty full, which was a bit odd seeing as though there was still some time before the lecture started. Part of you was hoping that you could snag a seat next to Sero or he could snag a seat next to you- but both of your usual seats were surrounded by others already. There was also always the possibility that maybe he didn't want to sit next to you; you didn't want to get your hopes up so you turned to him, waved goodbye, and headed to your normal seat. Unbenounced to you, he physically slouched in disappointment before heading to his spot.

The lesson went on, and while he wasn't crowding your mind today, you subconsciously kept stealing glances at him throughout the lecture in hopes that one of the times you'll find him glancing back at you. The only time you did catch him staring at you was with wide eyes when the professor announced that you two were going to be partners for the upcoming project.

“So I guess this means it's an appropriate time to ask for your number… I wanted to ask you for it but I didn't want to move too fast…?” he said as you two approached eachother after class, cracking a shy smile while he absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck, a subltle flex of his muscles on display. It was a bit hard to concentrate with a combo move like that attacking you, as if he was going in for the kill.

“I wouldn't have thought it was too fast.” you softly counter, flashing him a tender smile.

It was one thing to feel the heat go to your face, it's another to visibly see it appear on his.

You both traded phones at the same time with the promise to text each other later that night; you put a little coffee emoji by his name while he put the sun next to yours.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚20 oz The Charismatic ! with hemp milk, iced; freshly brewed jasmine tea with a shot of our very own vanilla (liquid luck) to help your attitude and chances toward any situation˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

Sitting at the furthest table away from the register, you start to unpack your laptop and make yourself comfortable- you're gonna be here a while. Powering up the device, Hanta pulls at the seat across from you and begins to mimic your movements.

“So you want our first project meeting… at a coffee shop?” you start, trying to keep the smile from coming onto your face. Looking up at him would mean automatic defeat seeing as it's getting harder and harder for you to look at him without your lips twitching upward.

“I thought it would be very symbolic.”

A snort greeted both of your guy’s ears as your eyes went wide and your hands shot up to cover your mouth. “Anyway, so the project.” Blushing around him was starting to become a regular occurrence, as well.

“Right,” he says clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

“So the project is to point out common sexual misconceptions and back it up with statistics and research articles. The fact that we got dibs on the misconception of the orgasm gap all because you had bragged about your personal sex life…” the thought alone shot a wave of warmth down your spine and right to your lower region. A flash of a Sero you hadn’t faced yet appeared in your imagination; him looking up at you, hungry and eager to please. It made your breath hitch.

“Well, yea! I had to voice it. I mean, I feel like it’s common sense! When you have sex by yourself, then you can focus on what makes you feel good and what makes you cum. But when you’re with a partner…” he trailed off and your gaze snapped to him, “you should make sure they cum at least once before doing… whatever you two.. had.. planned on… doing.” Sero finished, his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips.

Oh fuck.

You felt yourself throb.

“Y-yea! Uh I completely a-agree.”

It’s almost as though he could tell that you were flustered so just to top it off, he smirked, “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” before deciding to drop it and move on.

He took a sip of his drink and sighed, “You guys really do make the best coffee. I got the same thing as I did with your place and yet… I'm here longing for your coffee.” you snort once again.

After that, the conversation eased into the project and what exactly needed to be done; the assignment was very simple but sorting out what dates you guys were going to meet up and how exactly you were going to go about gathering the information was all crucial. The project was due in a month and needed to be submitted in powerpoint format- which the both of you were relieved about.

It was really cute seeing Hanta’s eyes all lit up when it came to the part of how you two were going to go about getting all the information needed. He even suggested to conduct a little side research if you guys were ahead of schedule. It was something that made your heart patter. It was almost like you had smelt some of the charmed rose petals from work because every time you looked at him, you couldn't stop the warmth that flooded in your chest.

With that thought, there was the fact that he was more than likely going to be spending large amounts of time at the cafe- would he notice? Should you just come straight out and explain it? Explain that you were considered a witch, someone who was open-minded and was in tune with their intuition and can work with certain herbs, charms, and spells to create wonderful things? It didn't seem that big of a deal to you, it was something you had grown up with; simple spells and practices that just made day to day life more simple. Not every witch has been through the same childhood you had, there’s no special school- not that you were aware of, anyway. Your parents kept their grimoire out in the open and let you frolic about as they eased basic wholesome rituals into your life, and when you got old enough, they let you take in chapter by chapter each spell they casted, each potion they brewed.

When you applied at the cafe, your first interview was full of normal questions worded in a way that almost sounded like it had a double meaning, thankfully you caught it and later was asked for a second interview- conducted by the boss himself. He had asked you to perform a basic potion/drink you grew up with, something that made you feel like you were walking on air. It was simple; a butterfly pea tea with a breath of life, with just a little bit of lemon activated the spell in the brew. When the well made drink hit his tongue, he offered you the job not a second later.

No. You wouldn't tell Sero yet. It never came up; It’d be odd to tell him straight off the bat- there's really no need. If he ever asks… then you’ll tell him.

But he hadn't so far.

Each meeting so far felt incredibly productive. It seemed like getting work done came naturally, with the topic being easy to discuss between the two of you and getting the articles to support your claim was fairly simple- apparently a lot of studies have been done about people’s orgasms.

Since drafting up a skeleton outline the first time meeting, the bits and pieces really started coming together, but the get-togethers sometimes didn't go as planned- however, what was a constant was that no matter what the meet-up consisted of, there would always be a paper cup from your work, filled with a hot latte.

Some of the days, rather than working on the project, the two of you would use the allotted time to sit in your cafe and goof off, or sometimes you would host “tea time” in your apartment and talk about anything and everything- and it was okay because very early on, you both gathered all the adequate articles that involved your topic and sifted through them to get the statistics you needed. Collecting the data was simple enough and putting it together just came easy to you.

Looking up from your laptop, finally done with sorting all the cited sources in each slide, you wave your hand at Sero to get his attention. Hanta was working on phrasing the facts and statistics from each work, so when he tilted his head up, gaze still on the screen until he finished typing the last sentence, he took his headphones out and hummed as he looked at you.

“You get the same thing everytime we’re together… why?”

He glanced at his almost empty cup before fully taking out his headphones, “I get it all the time because it really is the best latte I've ever gotten from a cafe before. I tell you this all the time.”

“You never… wanna try anything new?”

“Is there something in particular you want me to try?” he asks, quirking his eyebrow upwards.

“Well no, not necessarily…”

“Well then how about you give me a recommendation? What’s a drink you think I would love?”

This one stumped you for a minute. Though the thought had crossed your mind quite often, you couldn't quite pinpoint which special drink he’d appreciate the most. Something warm… something reflecting how you feel about him.

“I think that you should get the Time Flies; it's this black tea latte with orange zest and it's really… cozy.”

“Okay, I'll try it the next time I go.”

And he did. The first sip he took felt like smooth gold hitting his tongue. So warm and rich that it had apparently induced the vivid image of the sunset from his grandmother’s porch. He was remembering the orange glow of everything the light touched. The whole day, he was feeling incredibly nostalgic, he even did some of the things he used to do when he was a kid, like watch old black and white movies and make dinner with his mom (even if it was through a phone call).

He told you all of this with one of the most handsome smiles you've ever seen, and that's saying a lot.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚16 oz Love Me or Love Me Not with oat milk, hot; our very own pink rose syrup (enchanted candied petals inside and dried petals on top) steamed in the milk meets a double shot of espresso for a deep, sweet, cozy drink˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

“So,” you start once everything is situated on your living room table, the two floor pillows that play hosts to your guy’s lower halves sit diagonal from each other.

“So.”

“Everything is practically done, I just wanted to… call this meeting so we could just quickly skim over it and see if there was anything in the powerpoint that needed fixing and or adjusting.”

“Very reasonable reason to call this meeting but both of us have been looking at this practically nonstop… so I’m pretty sure it's good.”

“Well it’s due next class and I know we finished it up a few a couple of days ago but… there is absolutely nothing wrong with striving for perfection. And if anything, I’m trying to save your reputation.” he choked at the accusation you were attempting to make, “Oh yea! How are you going to get away with making that bold statement in front of the class, do a whole project on it, and then just… have it not be anything short of jaw dropping?” you didn't even wait for him to speak, “exactly. Your rep is on the line, I'm just the sorry person who got stuck with you.” You smirk, driving your ludacris point home while crossing your arms over your chest.

Scoffing, he leaned over and lightly shoved you, “we got to choose are partners for this project! You chose to be with me!” his cry caused a chuckle to fall from your mouth as you readjusted yourself onto your pillow, “that's neither here nor there.” you try your best snotty act as you stick your nose up in the air.

“Okay okay then, your grace, let us go over the powerpoint,” he jested along and gave you a slight bow.

After a quick runthrough, everything seemed spick and span, so the two of you became more relaxed and sunk into the larger floor pillows once again.

“So… I noticed that you finally got something from your shop.” Sero gestured over to the other paper cup on the table. “I have never seen you with your own coffee before, why today?”

Your cheeks involuntarily began to heat up; the drink he was referring to was none other than the Love Me or Love Me Not. Usually, you never went out of your way to make it, but for the occasion, it was necessary. It was the last time you guys were going to meet up for the project and you just… had to know.

Let it be known, messing with love potions wasn’t your forte, you preferred for everything romantic to be consensual and untampered with- that's why this brew in particular was one that you preferred out of all the ones that are out there. When made correctly, the person drinking it should be able to look at their crush (in person) and if the crush liked them back, then the drinker would get a fierce wave of goosebumps; if the person did not like them romantically, their head world ache for just a few minutes before going back to normal. Simple and effective, plus no one gets roughed up or drugged.

Not a single sip had been taken yet, you were on edge about the situation. This was the first time you had ever made it for yourself, and it was pretty nerve wracking to see if this man who you began harboring feelings for liked you the same.

It’s surely gone cold by now but that wasn’t going to stop you. “Oh! Uh- I was just really craving this drink today.” You say lamely before bringing the cup to your lips and taking a gulp.

The smell of rose hit your nose before you could register the taste. The evenly sweet syrup paired with the strong espresso danced on your tongue before you swallowed it. You softly sighed, it tasted delicious. Another sip slipped past your lips.

A roll of relief cascaded through you when an intense wave of goosebumps rose on your poked at your skin, causing you to cough and sputter. Eyes going wide and squeezing shut as the coughs wracked through your body.

He likes you.

While coming down from your fit, you semi glance at Hanta who had almost instantly appeared by your side, patting and gently rubbing your back.

“Is there liquor in that?” He joked as he handed you your drink so you could have more liquid to ease your throat.

You shook your head after drinking some more and cracking a grin. It might’ve been too big of a smile for someone who just choked but you didn’t care. Sero Hanta… likes you.

Unable to help it, you glance down at his lips only to realize how close he is. Your grin slowly drops, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Can I uh.. can I try your drink?” He says, face red with blush.

As you go to hand him your drink, he leans in and cups your jaw- causing your whole body to still, even your heart stopped to join the languor.

He peaks his tongue out to softly lap up a drop that must have been on your lip, before capturing your lips with his.

It felt like your mind shut down, and all you can feel is how soft his lips are and how sweetly he’s kissing you. Almost hesitantly.

He pulls away in attempts to find your gaze to decipher how you felt about it.

Your breath is ragged as you look back at him- everything and nothing is going on in your head in that moment, unable to speak, until you see the goosebumps that coat his body.

Your heart thumps impossibly faster as you realize that not only does he like you… but he truly believes. He believes in the two of you, he believes in love, and he believes in magic.

Without another second to waste, you tackle him in a hug and find your lips on his in a way that you know you’ll never get enough of.

special extra ! : you and Hanta in the fall- Season of the Witch with almond milk, hot; dirty chai latte with a bewitched cinnamon stick to help keep you warm ;) , even on the coldest of days ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

The cold nips at your nose just as big hands nip at your waist, causing you to let out a noise between a squeak and a gasp. A flash of soft black hair blurred your vision before cold lips meet yours. “Hanta,” you sigh into the kiss before pulling away and giggling.

You were heading back to your apartment after a day shift at work, the sky already becoming darker because of the autumnal equinox.

“What are you doing? I thought I was gonna meet you at my place.” You say as your fingers intertwined and your step fell into pace with his. He pulled you closer so that you were basically leaning into him as you walked.

“You know those chocolate and pumpkin scones you baked for me? The special ones?” He quietly moaned.

Your eyes go wide as he purposely guided your intertwined hands over his blatant bulge.

“Hanta you weren’t supposed to eat those until later, the spell usually kicks in within the next 30 minutes!” You giggle again.

A few weeks after you two started officially dating, you formally sat him down and explained everything you didn't when talking about your guys’ past- the memories of frolicking through tall grass and talking to your mother’s familiar, to getting your job at the cafe. He told you that it was a lot to take in, but never did he push you away. When he went to the cafe, he was more observant. Somewhere in the months between June and July, he slowly became more and more interested in the rituals you would do and the potions you would make. He wanted to start joining in. Now in October, he loves seeing your crystals around your house and all the different herbs you grow in the sills of your window. When he found out that you could bake magical pastries with certain herbs, he almost immediately asked you to bake him some. At first, it started as something simple like a sage and rosemary savory loaf that helped cleanse your pallet of any negative energy. Then it started becoming more and more intricate, and that's how the two of you ended up here.

“I know but fuck-- I was hungry and they looked so good, and now I’m hard and I need you.” he spoke lowly.

This was going to be fun.

The rest of the way, you were casually asking him things that shouldn't be heard in a public setting, “What is it you want to taste first, Hanta?”

“How badly do you want to fuck me into the mattress? Hm? Have your big cock stretch me out?”

“Wanna fill me up?”

By the time you both got to your apartment, there was no fumbling with the keys to get your door to open, you already had them out; getting through the door took three seconds tops. Next thing you know, your back was against the closest wall, your hands pulling at his tied up hair and scraping your nails against his scalp when the soft locks fell. One of his big hands lifted up a leg of yours and he groaned as he thrust upward against your heat.

“Fuck-” he panted into the kiss before trailing down your neck, still holding up one leg while the other hand finds itself under your shirt, his fingers hot to the touch.

Releasing your leg and dropping to his knees, he looked up at you as he fumbled with the button of your pants. You lace your fingers in his hair, feeling him yank the material down your legs, tossing the one leg over your less dominant leg over your shoulder, and when a warm muscle hits your sopping clothed core, you pull his hair harder to apply more pressure.

“Look at me when I have you in my mouth, I wanna see how much you enjoy this.”

You felt yourself clench, and apparently so did he, because a smirk grew on his lips. “Oh, you like when I say things like that?”

“H-hanta, please.. '' your voice wavered before you sucked in a sharp gasp. He had a finger, then two inside of you in no time, the other hand keeping the underwear out of the way so his lips could wrap around your clit.

He was pumping in and out of you faster and faster, occasionally switching the pace to unbearably slow and when you would whine, he’d tilt his head up, mid lick, to throw you a teasing glance before picking up the pace. He bagan curling his fingers, hitting a spot that had your eyes rolling and with the pressure building up, it had you panting out a breathy repetitive stream of his name.

“‘M gonna cum Hanta, hh-” you moaned out before clenching your eyes shut, your body involuntarily shaking above him. And right below you, he was ready to lick up everything you had to offer.

Holding you steady as he came up to kiss you, your juices still on his lips, “you ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked when he pulled away. The short sobering moment hit as soon as he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom, but after he tossed you onto the bed, the look he gave you as he was unbuttoning his pants drew your mind hazy again.

“Can't wait to pump you full of my cum, to have you a drooling mess because of my cock.” he huskily whispered, giving you so many delicious previews of how the night will go. “You want that, pretty? Use your words.” he said as he crawled over to you and caged you in. The scent of cedar wood and citrus clouded your senses.

“Yes please Hanta!” you whine, “wanna feel stuffed b’cause of your cum. Please fill me up--” you whimper out, cutting yourself off when you felt his leaky tip at your wet entrance.

Just like each time you two have been intimate, he guides himself slowly until he's in to the hilt of his pelvis, “shit, squeezing me so hard- c-an i move?” he moans out.

Unable to form coherent sentences, you frantically nod and squeak out, “yes!”

With your permission granted, he eases in a thrust before he starts snapping his hips into you.

“Fuck, look at you, milking my cock so good-” he moaned, as he leaned in and kissed you. Each sharp thrust jolted you upwards, proving just how powerful his thrusts were. You threw your arms around his neck for the slight stability.

You began to let out little moans into the kiss that spurr him further; everything was beginning to get to him. How tight you felt around him, the feel of your tongue against his, the sloppy wet noises of your cunt.

“I’m gonna cum-- i'm gonna cum!” he choked out.

You clawed at his back while whimpering pleas for him to fill you up, “fill me up with your cum, your cock fills me so good, please Hanta, more- more!”

You were clenching around him hard, and to bring you right to his level, he found your puffy clit and began a quick circular motion that made your jaw go slack, causing more frequent clenches.

His mind blurred as he pushed himself the deepest he could, moaning out your name and a gruff curse before emptying himself into you.

You felt him twitch inside of you right before hot seed coated your already warm walls, and that’s what pushed you into a convulsion of ecstasy.

He lazily humped his hips into you as you rode out your high before pulling out and rolling next to you.

Calling out your name to bring your attention to him, he pulls you into his chest where you could feel his racing heart, “what if… I started singing that song from hocus pocus? You know the one..”

What a goof, you thought to yourself, playfully smacking his chest as you roll your eyes, looking up at him.

“I put a spell on you… and now you're mine…” you begin to whisper, earning a hearty laugh from you boyfriend.

Maybe it was mutual, but quite possibly he had put a spell on you. And you were more than okay with it.

#she dreams !#butter’s house🏡#🪄 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.#sero hanta #sero mha #sero smut #sero hanta smut #mha fanfiction #mha #bnha smut #bnha #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academia smut #sero bnha #sero hanta mha #mha smut #smut

479 notes · View notes

taegyuun · 3 years

Text

biology class

genre: fluff, acquaintances to lovers, highschool au

word count: 2.5k

pairing: jungwon x reader

requested? yes

notes: i hope you like this i really love college/school concepts and i was super excited to write this, also i had to search up topics for biology in highschool so if this seems too easy/hard for a bunch of 16 year olds y’know why. also yes i know in korea they have uniforms but for the sake of this they can wear their own clothes. I've been writing this all day, literally since the second i woke up until now which is 19:05 pm. I'm extremely proud of this so i hope you enjoy! texting is in bold.

yang jungwon.

the campus’ ‘it boy’. everyone knew, loved, hated, or couldn’t decide whether they wanted to be him or with him. people definitely had mixed opinions on him but it was mainly the boys who gave him the glances of evil.

they were jealous.

the kid was known for being easy going, naturally sweet to everyone and academically smart. but one thing that did tick the boys off though, were his talents. sure, there were many boys and girls in school that were nice and pretty and smart but somehow, yang jungwon just had to have it all.

not only could he sing, he could dance too.

not only could he be sweet, he could turn and give the cold glare too.

he was the definition of a perfect boy... and that’s exactly how you got involved with him. let’s just say you were at the brink of being infatuated with him.

but how could you not be? even though you two barely spoke together, when you did - even if it was only about the topic of your class - you felt like he was genuinely interested in what you had to say and it never felt forced. you always felt like he cared; no matter how boring the subject you were talking about was. it had you hooked in a second.

unfortunately, jungwon was popular. infuriatingly popular. and with popularity, the swarm of love letters and beautiful fangirls and fanboys also showed up in the picture. the thoughts of dating him disappeared quicker than you could say, “hello!” to him. it disappointed you, yes. however, who were you to dwell on some highschool boy? sure, he's not exactly the type that you’d quickly forget about the second you graduate but he also never made a real impact on your life other than some minor crush.

well that was up until your biology class.

“y/n and... jungwon.” the sound of mrs. lim’s voice boomed through the filled classroom and knocked you back into reality at the sound of your name. you look up from your hands in confusion and then rendered what she said - you were paired with jungwon for your biology project... that was worth 65% of your grade.

you weren’t exactly worried about getting everything done on time - you knew he would definitely cooperate and do what he was meant to do, but what you were worried about was messing up in front of him. i mean, messing up in front of your crush is the worst second hand embarrassment, no matter how nice they are. you put your thoughts aside and looked around the classroom, trying to find the boy, only to find him already looking at you with a smile and a small wave. you wave back before looking down at your fingers, picking at the skin near your nails. oh boy, you were in for a ride.

as the bell rings, you start to pack your things away, only to be stopped by a finger tapping on your shoulder.

“hey!” you almost feel like you’re in one of the cheesy romcoms, feeling like you had to cover your eyes from how bright his smile was.

“hi jungwon, what’s up?”

“i was wondering how we’re gonna do the project?” you thought about all the possibilities and topics. you could do it at his house, your house, the library and you couldn’t wait to decide on the subject. a small smile appeared on your lips at the thought of working with him.

“uh, what about i’ll give you my number and then we can decide after school?” you words were slightly rushed, as you tried to escape his presence as quickly as possible and get to your next lesson - wanting to hide away from the chilling glares his fangirls were giving you - which you were soon to be late to. he then pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to you before pulling his bag over his shoulder and sending you a pretty smile,

“remember to text me.”

you look at the piece of paper, a few numbers written on it in black ink. you dwell over the thought of having to text him first, but you knew if you didn’t, the project wasn’t going to get done. you thought over it a bit more and realised that your grades were far more important than some stupid crush. you pull out your phone and text a simple,

you: hi it y/n!

you put your phone down, expecting to have to wait a while for a reply and got back to picking at your food with your fork. instead, you're surprised to hear your phone vibrating on the wooden table, a notification with his name already on screen. you place down your utensil and look at the text.

jungwon: hey! so what do u want to do for the project? i think we should decide the topic first before figuring out where we want to do it

you were glad that he was pretty straightforward and didn't beat around the bush, also that he genuinely wanted to get the project done and that it wasn't you doing all the work like the previous times you were partnered up with someone.

you: what do u think about the musculoskeletal system

jungwon: omg i was gonna say lets do smth to do with the skeletal system

jungwon: ok well then the topic is settled where do u wanna do it

you smile brightly at the easy agreement instead of having to scratch at your head for hours to get the other person to agree upon a topic.

you: i mean we can do it at mine if youre ok with that but the library is also an option

jungwon: yours it is then ;)

you look down at your phone in surprise at the “;)”, not expecting him to be so bold.

you: great! tmr after school?

jungwon: cant wait :)

throughout the whole day at school, you kept glancing at the clock, anticipating the final bell to ring so you could meet your project partner at the school entrance and walk home with him. you shake your head at the thought, trying to remind yourself that it was just a project - nothing else. the loud sound of a bell ringing brings you out of your trance, as you excitedly hop out of your seat. “woah, y/n... what's got you in such a good mood? its only lunch, are you that hungry?” you turn around and see jungwon standing with a hand on his bag strap and a few other boys behind him. you lightly laugh and say, “oh I'm just excited to get started on the project... hi guys.” you wave slightly at the boys stood behind him and hear a chorus of “hi y/n!!” following and excited waves.

“ill see you later, alright?” you slightly smile as you start to walk away. your eyes widen at the yelling and hooting behind you as you look over your shoulder and see the rest of the boys shouting and punching jungwon’s arms, one of them yelling out a, “you scored! she's a cute one!”

you smile slightly to yourself and lift your head higher, walking towards the cafeteria.

finally.

the final bell rings and you pack your things into your bag, sighing in delight at the thought of finally being able to leave the building. you walk out the class and instead of being able to walk straight out like usual, you see jungwon standing off to the side and gently waving at you. you raise a brow at him, but continuing to walk over anyway. “what are you doing here? i thought we were meeting at the entrance?”

“i- um, i don't know i thought it be better if i waited for you here, you don't mind right?” he smirks knowingly, already aware of your small crush on him. he didn't find out through you, of course not. you were good at acting neutral around him - not even showing an ounce of adoration. however, one thing you weren't good at hiding, were your thoughts during your sleep. you two shared a free class together, and most of the time you spent it studying or sleeping. you didn't exactly say your thoughts loudly, but jungwon sat close enough to hear some of the things you had to say - him being a common topic of your dreams. he wasn't dumb, he could figure out that you liked him. but he also was a tad stupid - still not acting upon his already existing feelings and asking you out.

thankfully, you being his partner in the project boosted his confidence and had allowed him to create the ‘perfect’ plan of asking him to be your boyfriend.

“i-uh, yeah! i don't mind. shall we go?” you say, slightly flustered. he nods in responses and mulls over what he was going to do. screw it. he grabs your hand and interlaces your fingers together, “so which way to yours?” your eyes widen at his action, looking at him with your mouth dropped open, before getting out a chocked, “uh, t-to the left.”

“lets get going then?” he starts walking and softly smiles down at you. you subconsciously squeeze his hand and smile back, walking hand in hand with him, steps oddly in sync. you hear a “hell yeah jungwon! get it!” and a loud, “ow!” followed after. you turn around and see jay holding his head in pain and sunghoon stood behind him with a smug smile on his face, throwing a thumbs up to both of you. you turn back around and look up at jungwon, seeing his cheeks tinted a light pink and a shy smile residing on his lips. you feel a soft tug at your hand followed by a clearing of his throat.

“come on, lets go.” you follow his step, hands still interlaced as you two walk in a comfortable silence, once in a while telling him which direction to go.

“so what do you think we should start with?” you look up from the ground and see him looking at you, awaiting your response. “oh uhm, i think we should just start with getting all the info into notes and from that start making the project. i think we should leave the creative aspects like making it look nice and what not till the end because that doesn't really impact our grades so it isn't that important.” you feel his thumb rubbing you hand in soft circles and feel yourself getting warmer, completely forgetting his hand holding yours - it just felt so natural. he hums in agreement before speaking up once again.

“I'm honestly so glad i got partnered with you, especially with this being such an important project. every time i had to work with other people who weren't my friends it felt like i either had to do all the work or scratch to the depths of my brain to get them to agree on a topic and on how we should make it work.”

“i totally get that!” your voice slightly raises in happiness at his words, “i feel the exact same way. every time i get partnered with someone, i always have to do all the work and it got so infuriating always having to credit them for something they never did or the bare minimum.” you take out the key from your pocket and twist it into the keyhole, opening the door and hearing the pat of your cats paws coming closer to the door. you both take your shoes off and walk to the kitchen, your cat following behind and waking in between your legs.

“i didn't know you had a cat?” jungwon's voice forces you to look behind and find him to be crouching down and petting howl. “well, mr. yang, there's a lot you don't know about me, he's called howl by the way,”

“like howl from ‘howls moving castle’?” you smile brightly, happy that he got the refence. “yeah! i love that movie, its my comfort film,” you bring two glasses of water with you as you start to walk upstairs, jungwon following your steps. you both get to your room, opening the door wider to let him inside too.

“woah.”

“huh? oh uh, ignore everything - its not the prettiest room,” you say, slightly embarrassed at all the posters and random clutters on your shelves, “no, no! i love it, it reminds me a lot of my own room. its very fitting to you, y/n.” he smiles at you and you simply smile back, handing him the glass of water and hearing a quiet, “thanks,” in response.

“well, should we start?”

“god! finally!” you both groan, falling back onto your soft bed, sighing at the ceiling. you two had been working since the second you got inside your room until the sun had set; your parents even managed to get back from work by the time you were only one third through your note gathering. you spread your arms on the bed, stretching as you did so. your hand then hits something soft and silky. you look to your left and see jungwon smiling brightly as your hand rests on top of is head.

the whole time you two were working on the project, you both subconsciously stayed close to one another, as if you were just drawn to the other with an invisible force. even when you took a food break for 20 minutes and were sat opposite one another, your feet kept kicking the other, smiling and laughing quietly with warm cheeks.

now you laid on your bed, your hand resting on top of his head and staying there with no complaints from the boy.

“i like your outfit,” you observed the comfortable fit he was wearing, oversized black hoodie with some blue text in the corner and loose fitting black trousers. jungwon looks down at what he was wearing before looking back up and smiling, eyes slowly opening and closing, “youre tired, aren't you?” he then opens his mouth, trying to deny your statement but gets cut off by a yawn. he blushes before softly nodding his head and getting more comfortable on your bed, unknowingly bringing you closer to him, eyes already closed.

“take a nap, ill wake you up when it gets late.” he nods once again, barely conscious as he already falls into dreamland, arms wrapped tightly around you. you feel yourself heating up, both from his body heat and at his actions. you try hard as you possibly can to not squeal too loudly as you brush his hair away from his forehead and press a soft kiss in place.

a tiny smile forms on his lips as you get more comfortable and start to drift away yourself. right before being sent away to your dreams, you felt a gentle kiss being pressed to your forehead in return.

he may have not followed his ‘perfect plan’ of becoming your boyfriend but you both got 100% on the project... and a new found love.

618 notes · View notes

writemekpop · 3 years

Text

Lipstick On Your Collar (Part 1) | Nakamoto Yuta

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta x Reader

Summary: Till death do us part... But what happens when he cheats?

Genre: Husband!Yuta, Angst

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Infidelity, Sexual Content, Body Image

Gif: @yuthereal

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Ten more minutes, then it’s homework time, alright?” you called to your two older sons, eight and four years old. Caught up in their wooden sword fight, they didn’t even look up.

You smoothed your hand over your face, eyes bruised from lack of sleep. Between your banking job and your three kids, sleep was a rare thing.

Just then, you felt a waft of chill air. Yuta strode in through the front door, his feathery black hair in disarray.

“Hey babe,” you called, shoulders relaxing.

Your husband had this calming presence, your island on a rough ocean. Your chest ached for Yuta’s warmth. You hadn’t hugged, kissed… touched in months.

“Hi, Y/n. We need to talk,” Yuta deadpanned.

You picked up your baby daughter Ayumi. She needed her nappy changed. Bad.

“Alright. What’s up?” You placed her on the changing mat, blowing your fringe out of your eyes.

“I mean in private.” You saw that Yuta’s face was stretched and white. A knot curled in your stomach.

“Nappies?” You lifted your hand. He begrudgingly handed them over.

“Y/n. This is serious.” Yuta’s voice quivered like a taut string.

“Can’t you see I’m busy? What is it?” you snapped. You instantly regretted it. Nowadays, you were always on the edge of an explosion.

“Okay. Fine. I’ve… messed up. And I’m sorry, and I didn’t mean it, but… it’s happened.”

You bin Ayumi’s old nappy, then pull her into your arms. “Is that all? Look, if you’ve broken something, we have insurance.”

“This isn’t a bloody plate! I’ve- I’ve done something awful.”

“Right. Well done. Anyway, I have to help the kids with their homework.”

“Just look at me, Y/n! I’m trying to fucking tell you something!” Yuta’s yell turned your head.

Yuta’s eyes were red-rimmed and wide, like he was in shock. “I… cheated on you, Y/n. I slept with someone else.”

Your heartbeat slowed to a crawl. Instinctively, you pulled your baby close.

“Who is she?”

“Diya. From the school.”

Your lips went numb. You put Ayumi down in her rocker and started rinsing plates in the sink. “How long?”

“Just once. It was a mistake, I swear… it’s just, she was there, and… I didn’t plan it!”

Your chest folded in on itself. While you were kissing your babies to sleep, Yuta was kissing someone else.

“When was it, Yuta?”

“The… day you… went to stay with your sister.”

You’d never forget that day.

It was a few weeks after Ayumi was born. You couldn’t seem to get out of bed, let alone be a good mother. So you’d escaped… just for a day.

While you were breaking apart, Yuta searched out another woman.

“Where?” You picked up the cutlery, letting the hot water scald your skin.

“Her apartment. We met up after work, and one thing led to another… I swear, that was all.”

Images burned into your mind, like a flashed camera. Yuta’s fingernails scraping the back of her neck, like he did to you. Their naked bodies gyrating, sweaty, the smell of sex saturating everything…

Your throat convulsed in a retch. For a second, it was like a brick was hitting your chest.

Then, everything stopped.

You felt a curtain dropping. You didn’t have time to deal with this. Not now. As quickly as they came, the feelings slowed. Drooped. Vanished.

You looked down. You were clenching a table knife so hard it had drawn blood. You let go.

Everything blurred. You felt like a kid again, staring up at yourself from the bottom of a pool.

Your voice was a croak. “Obviously, we’re not telling the kids. My parents are coming next week – so we can’t tell them either.”

You dried your hands and looked up at Yuta. His mouth was hanging open, like a cartoon character’s. It was almost funny.

You continued speaking, bunging toys into a basket.

“If you want a divorce, tell me now, because we’ll have to borrow money. For tonight, I’ll take the bed, you have the couch.”

“What the hell, Y/n?”

You jolt and look up. “Fine! You can have the bed.”

Yuta grabbed your shoulders, knife-cheekboned and wild. “I don’t care about the fucking bed! I just told you I cheated on you. Why aren’t you mad?”

You stared at his hands on your skin, like you didn’t recognise them. Yuta spotted your gaze, and slowly let go.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n. I want to fix this. But you need to let me in.”

You looked into his chestnut eyes and frowned. Why was he being so obnoxious?

Slowly, you spelled it out. “You cheated on me. It was with our kids’ tutor, while I was sick. You’re sorry. You won’t do it again. Now can I go and make dinner?”

Yuta blinked. Slowly. Then, he gulped and gave you a slight nod. “Yep.”

You pushed past him, and called out, “Whoever helps mummy with dinner gets ice cream!”

You ushered your eager kids towards the hob. You didn’t look back, but you felt Yuta’s gaze on the back of your head. Stunned.

------

You plastered on your brightest smile all throughout dinner, whilst laying out bedding on the couch for yourself, even whilst tucking your children into bed.

Now, you were sitting in your children’s room, with the lights out. You’d just finished reading their bedtime story. They were fast asleep.

Finally, you let the iron screen lift from your heart. Instead of fighting it, you bared the most vulnerable part of yourself.

It was a memory: you were in Paris with Yuta on the first night of your honeymoon. You were in a mid-range Travel Lodge – the best you could afford – with rain pelting at the windows.

You had woken up at 11AM, tangled up with Yuta from your cuddling. You’d talked, worried, agonised about it, but you’d never had sex with him before.

Yuta opened one sleepy eye and felt your body with his hands, as if he was checking if it was there. You tingled with lust to the tips of your toes. Suddenly, you knew the moment was right.

For once, you didn’t care about your tummy that you always tried to hide, you didn’t care about your thighs which rubbed together when you walked.

You didn’t think about anything, except the feeling of Yuta’s slow kisses, the feeling of him inside of you, the feeling of his hands reaching to the very ends of you.

You were in a hazy, golden pool of completeness. As you gasped your worries, apologies, in each other’s ears, you became whole in a way you’d never known before.

Then, the memory shattered. And in its place, before you could stop it, was the image that was burnt into your eyelids.

It played over and over again, the trailer to a movie of your shame. Yuta in her apartment, the thumping of the bedposts, him between her legs, her exclamations of ‘yes!’, that were only echoed by him moaning her name…

You screamed silently into your fist.

You knew the real reason Yuta cheated on you. Whatever excuses he made, it wasn’t a mistake or a drunk one-off.

You grabbed the soft flesh around your waist. This was why. You thought of the nights you’d told him you were too tired, that you weren’t in the mood. That was why.

You couldn’t even blame Yuta. He was only compensating for the fact that his own wife would never be attractive enough, good enough, just enough for him.

The tears rose up your throat, making your head pound and your cheeks stretch with sobs. You wanted nothing more than to drown yourself in these tears, though you knew they wouldn’t wash the pain away.

Then, you caught a grey glimmer in the darkness. Your youngest boy, Nico, was wide awake and watching you with saucer eyes.

“Hey baby… go back to sleep,” you whispered, quickly smoothing away your tears.

“Are you crying, mummy?”

The softness in his gaze was like a punch in the stomach. You choked down another wave of tears. “No, sweetie, I’m fine. Go back to sleep okay?”

Obediently, he closed his eyes. You didn’t deserve such beautiful children.

You were doubled over, silent in the darkness. You pressed your palms into your eyes, so hard they hurt, and forced the tears back.

You couldn’t even make your husband love you.

What hope did you have with your kids?

------

Three days had passed since that terrible night.

It was 10PM, and the house was unusually quiet.

You and Yuta were sitting at the far edges of the couch, the Netflix episode you never missed playing on the TV.

Both of you were pretending like nothing had gone wrong.

“So… how was work?” Yuta’s cautious voice broke the silence.

You sighed and shook your head. “Just get me a drink.” You couldn’t be bothered with this charade. But at least you could drown your feelings.

“Are you sure that’s a good-” Yuta began.

“Just get it.”

He returned with a whisky, with two ice cubes. Your heart twisted. “You remembered?”

“How could I forget my wife’s favourite drink?” Yuta gave you a thin smile, and for a second, you forgot to ice him out. You smiled back.

That was two whiskies ago. Now, the gap between the two of you on the sofa had shrunk.

You were laughing so hard your eyes were teary.

“Do you remember, Y/n? Your shirt was on backwards, my pants were on the other side of the room, we were moaning so loud half the theme park could hear us!”

You dried your eyes, sighing. “I bet we scarred a few kids for life that day…”

Yuta’s lip curled up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You looked down. Subconsciously, your hand was massaging Yuta’s denim-clad knee. You retracted it.

“God, we really knew how to have fun, didn’t we?” You could barely remember the time before you had your three children. It was rose-coloured.

“I mean, Disneyland was nothing. Remember Taeyong’s attic? The nightclub bathroom? I could go on…”

“Ahh!” You mimed blocking your ears. “There are kids in the house, you know!”

In doing so, you lost your grip on your whisky glass, which was balanced on your knee. Yuta grabbed it before it fell, and his hand was suddenly on your thigh.

He let go, and you cleared your throat.

That was hours back. Now, you were having difficulty sitting straight. You’d lost count of how many whiskies you’d downed.

You grabbed Yuta by the shoulders and shook him. “Look! Let’s just get it out of the way. ASAP, straight, completo. No regrets.”

For the first time in ages, your blood was running warm with more than alcohol. The worn denim of Yuta’s jeans was pulling your gaze southward.

“Get what out of the way? You’re not making sense, Y/n.”

You pulled the pin out of your hair and let it fall over your shoulders. “The big three-letter.”

Yuta looked at you, still bewildered. “What?”

“SEX.”

The glass fell from Yuta’s hand.

To be continued…

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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power-chords · 2 years

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I'm a little tipsy on a $15 bottle of prosecco, and I'm ordinarily a very cheerful drunk, but it is now 2022 and I am suffused with dread. Pre-emptive Sunday scaries are probably just putting me in a foul mood, that and staring down the barrel of 10 more weeks of bitter cold and dark. It's turning me into Eeyore: Jewish American Princess Edition.

I had a dream the other night that Bowery Ballroom closed down, and it wasn't even the pandemic, it was because the building got bought. Like what happened to Roseland. But the fear is still there, clearly, running around my subconscious with a megaphone.

2021 had its moments. Man, they were great. I can't stop thinking about how happy I was: to stand in a museum with my mother, to look at a painting right there in front of me and not through a screen, my hand over my chest because I felt this swell of emotion I couldn't even identify. Or watching a theater full of people get up and dance during David Byrne's American Utopia, the silly kind of dancing you do when you don't care who's watching, simply because they couldn't help themselves.

Fastball with my dad in the summer sun in Pelham, watching him sing along to the band I introduced him to, that we get to share with each other now. Low Cut Connie in Philly, in New York, in Asbury Park, being unable to stop dancing myself.

And the crowning jewel, seeing the Hold Steady at Brooklyn Bowl for Massive Nights and throwing my arms around friends I hadn't seen in years, Camie putting her arm around me while I cried during "Citrus," a year and a half of bottled up anguish and catharsis and joy coming out. And again during "Killer Parties," for me a ritual discharge every year, but this time like a dam breaking. Couldn't wipe the grin off my face when I got home each night, picking the confetti out of my clothes.

I made new friends that weekend, too. I always do. You talk to people at gigs, the lunatics who showed up in the queue around the same time you did, standing next to you on the barricade, and you recognize the same essential passion, hunger, affliction — whatever you want to call it — to share in those two hours of sublimity. A blink of an eye. You're there, and then it's done. It will never repeat itself, it will never be the same twice.

I went to 42 shows, I think, in 2019. In 2021, I went to 10. (I had tickets to many more, but there's that fucking virus going around, and sometimes I just had to make the call.) I was so happy to be in concert halls and clubs again, it hardly bothered me. It still hardly bothers me. It was more than enough, that bliss was so great, my gratitude so profound.

I don't need to go back to 2019. I need to know that my sanctuaries, my church basements aren't going to shutter. It keeps me up at night. 12-step programs gave me nothing but baggage. Live music gave me my life back.

And then I think about all the time I spent with my husband, just enjoying each others' company, watching movies together, talking and laughing, having great sex, taking long naps. All those hours that are gonna be funneled back into a commute, sitting in an office. The pandemic has been awful, but the logistics of the upheaval made me realize just how much time I was wasting on shit that doesn't matter.

My dad has heart disease, now, too. On top of everything else. I don't know how much time I'll have left with him — my best friend in the whole world. I should be able to work from home when I want to, in the company of my other best friend in the whole world, the love of my life. We should all be surrounded by our loved ones, enjoying art, making art, those activities that make life worth living. We should be able to do so safely, without weighing this interminably shifting calculus of risk to health and sanity. We should have gotten paid to stay home and ride this out, we shouldn't have fucking vaccine patents, we ought to be done with this shit by now. It sucks. It hurts. It scares me.

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hunflowers · 4 years

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Golden

Word Count: 15.3k

Requested? I don’t remember, but you always can here :)

Mood Board

A/N: Lord, have mercy SHE’S FINALLY HERE!!!!! My baby Golden is finally out to the public and can I just say how fucking relieved I am to post it. I love her, I hope you do too <3 little warning: there are mentions of panic attacks in here, and a heart condition (that i did my best to research on) so if you’re uncomfortable, pls don’t read.

special thanks to my soul baby @stylesloveclub for being my biggest support system with this, she’s dedicated to you <3

for anyone reading this, please reblog! it really helps us writers out. okay onward friends!!! lemme know how i did and if you like it *nose boops*

Water. The ocean. Waves. The tide.

Symbolic of life, birth. Can be used to wash away even the most troubling of sins.

O’ahu, Hawaii, home to some of the best surfing destinations in the state, in the country, in the world. Also home to one of the best surfers in the state, in the country, in the world.

Y/N didn’t coin herself that. Not that she’s complaining about it, but she doesn’t surf for the title. She surfs for the freedom. She feels the most alive when her toes dig into the sand as she runs towards the warm, salt oblivion, her novelty yellow and blue surfboard tucked under her arm.

Her whole life she had been surrounded by water. When she was a baby, she always wanted a bath. When she was a toddler, she always wanted to stay in the kiddie pool. And then she got into surfing, and well, the rest is history so-to-speak. Her parents never got themselves involved in the sport professionally but more as a recreational activity. And it was even how they met, so really there was no stopping surfing from flowing through Y/N’s blood.

Her backyard was the ocean, so growing up, it was really the only thing for her to do. It’s what all the kids were doing, and Y/N was no different. She met her best friends on the beach when they were five years old, practicing the basics of surfing, like getting up on the board and finding their balance with the Earth.

Kalani and AJ, two of the best surfers Y/N will ever meet, and two of the purest souls to ever grace her life. They’re madly in love with one another. Have been for as long as they’ve been friends -- so coming up on sixteen years. Y/N is in awe of their relationship, she really is, but being a third-wheel isn’t exactly something she signed up for. Though, she kind of expected it when growing up.

They tried countless times to set her up with someone, but time and time again their matchmaking skills have failed, and Y/N is tired of them pitying her. No, she may not be in a long term relationship, but she hardly has time for a relationship anyway. Especially with competitions coming up, she needs to keep herself focused on surfing rather than some boy who will probably end up breaking her heart.

Well, that was her intention anyway.

October 27th, the first day of the best months out of the year.

And it started just the same as every other year. Y/N woke up at the crack of dawn and threw on her lucky white bathing suit before throwing an apple down her throat. Her surfboard was perched up against the back patio railing, and she swiftly tucked it under her arm as she made her way down the shore, being greeted by the luminescent sun that was swarming the sea in a shade of tangerine and lemon.

Jogging knee deep into water, Y/N sunk her hand just below the surface, swaying it back and forth, taking a deep breath as she felt the cool texture swarm her body. Exhaling slowly, she threw herself down onto her board, paddling onward into the great unknown. The familiar sound of the crashing waves causing her to flinch for a brief moment before comforting her ears as she watches the restless ocean ahead of her, a smile washing over her face as she could basically see her future ahead of her.

Today marks qualifying day, and obviously if she marks as qualified, she moves forward to the Vans Triple Crown. She’s been training all year, her body practically a prune with how much she’s been in the water. But, a minute can’t go to waste, so up until the very last second where she has to head to the north shore, she’s gonna remain in the water and build her intuition with how the day is going to go.

Last year, Y/N had to cut her time short when she was hospitalized the night before the first competition. So, she was all more determined to win the championship that is rightfully hers. Well, in the women’s division at least. Last year was ripped from her right when it was under her nose and she refuses to have a repeat of it.

After her hospitalization, everyone was convinced she’d never return to the water. Despite the ocean being her second home, everyone figured she would turn away -- avoid the embarrassment last year brought upon her. But, it only made her stronger and more determined to prove everyone wrong. No matter how frightening it really was.

Her first wave of the day had her coasting along smoothly, starting her out easy as waves progressively got bigger with the tide. When she got out into the water, the sun had just broken past the horizon line, yet by the time she left, the sun was nearly at its peak in the sky. Her skin felt raw, yet her body was running on adrenaline as she scoffed down the lunch her mom had made her before they banded into the family van and headed to Sunset Beach on the north shore.

Y/N’s heart raced in her chest, her leg bouncing subconsciously but furiously as she watched the landscape pass her by through the window. Her typically calming music wasn’t even working as she ran through multiple scenarios in her mind of what could go wrong today and how her day, her week, month, even year could be ruined.

Once outside of the van and on the beach, her parents pulled her close into a tight, warm hug, whispering words of encouragement in her ears, knowing just how important this was for her. Surfing and competitions had always been important to Y/N, but following last year’s downfall, this day was going to make or break whatever is left of her both physically and emotionally.

“Y/N!” she heard her name being called from the distance, the three of them immediately letting go of one another as they exchanged sheepish smiles.

“Y/N!” Was called out again, causing her to turn around and see Kalani running straight for the three of them, waving her arms in a drastic manner to gain her best friend’s attention. “Oh my -- I ran so fast, wow, I need to calm down,” Kalani breathed out, closing Y/N into a firm embrace.

“Save your energy for the waves, babe,” Y/N laughed, wrapping her own arms around Kalani’s frame. The two of them were never inseparable, it was kind of like they were actually glued to the hip together ever since they were children. And a lot of people were surprised they remained best friends through the years, what with both of them always competing in the same surfing competitions battling for the first place spot. And they knew this could be a strain on their relationship, but they decided ever since they were seven years old that they weren’t going to let surfing get between them. No matter what, they were always proud of each other for everything they’ve accomplished and are each other’s number one fans.

Thing is, Y/N tends to snag that first place spot a lot of the time, and Kalani always just misses her, earning her the second spot, right beneath her. But, Kalani has grown to accept that Y/N is better at the sport, and that’s nothing for her to be ashamed of. She’s managed to get a few of her own first place wins, and in her eyes, that’s good enough. She can’t live her life being jealous of her best friend because that’s not healthy, and anyway, surfing is much more Y/N’s livelihood than it is her own, so she’s fine with being second best -- despite what others may think.

Tugging her board off the top of the car, Y/N tucked it beneath her arm as she walked hand-in-hand with Kalani to wherever her family had set up camp on the beach. “Where’s AJ?” Y/N wondered, as she looked out into the water and saw no one out in it.

“The boys are starting soon, so he’s with Nav,” Kalani said, finally stopping in front of her parents and younger brother, and AJ’s older brother.

“Y/N!” They greeted, getting up from their chairs to kiss the girl on the cheek before greeting her parents. “It’s so great to see you back here,” Kalani’s mom smiled, pinching Y/N’s cheek before plopping herself back down under the sun.

They all began to catch up with one another since it’s been awhile they’ve all gotten together, all of them falling into old habits as if it hadn’t been months since they were last together. Y/N tried to engage in as much conversation as possible, but her mind tended to wander off as the guys started lining up in the water and making their way out. Her throat dried up and her palms were sweating -- and not from the heat -- as her nerves kicked in. Her memory began to cloud her vision as she stood abruptly and quickly walked away from the group, her heart picking up again.

Her breaths shortened as her mind blurred, and all she wanted was to curl up on her bed and calm her mind. She felt someone’s hand on her back, and immediately she could tell it was her father by the smell of his cologne. Once she was far enough from people, Y/N could feel tears well in her eyes as short images flashed across her eyes, cutting each inhale of breath in half -- which caused her to panic even more as she couldn’t breathe properly.

Last year ruined her, and she absolutely despises that this is considered her normal day-to-day routine now, her body shaking with fear as she feels herself collapsing from the inside, out. “Y/N, honey, can you hear me?” She thinks she hears her father say, but is undetermined with the intense white noise that’s swarming her ear drums.

“Count with me, c’mon, backwards from ten.”

But, all her mind could focus on was her body sinking lower and lower beneath the surface of water.

“Ten… Gotta count, c’mon you can do it, nine.”

“Eight,” she murmured, reaching out to grasp her dad’s shirt tight in her fist, just to make sure that he was really in front of her. She needs to be reminded that last year is her past, and that no matter how forward it is in her mind, it’s not her present anymore and she’s not drowning. “Seven.”

He took her hands and held them to his chest, “Six, keep going.”

“Fi-” she gulps, swallowing the lump in her throat, “..five.”

She makes it all the way down to zero, her body visibly relaxing and mentally as she hesitantly looks around to see no one watching the little event. “Do you want to go home?”

Y/N looks up to her father, shaking her head in response as she sniffles her nose and brushes away the one stray tear that has cascaded down her cheek. “No… I can do this.”

He cocks his head to the side and purses his lips, slowly nodding his head. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he turns them back in the direction, walking with her slowly as she continues to gather herself. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Y/N. Everyone knows you’re an amazing surfer.”

“I think I just need to prove it to myself,” she stated, dragging her feet through the sand like a child so it slowed their arrival time back with the group. She can only imagine that her mom had informed everyone already of what was happening, and the last thing she wants is their sorry eyes and pathetic spouts of pity that she knows she’ll wish they just kept to themselves.

Y/N knows she’s broken. She’s not the same girl everyone knew this time last year, but she doesn’t need to be reminded of it every time she steps into a room. What happened last year was serious and she understands that people are worried; But all she wants is for everyone to forget about it. Including herself. She thinks the thing that’s causing her the most trepidation now -- rather than in the morning or all year long -- is the fact she’s now back in front of a crowd again, eyes trained on her like hawks watching prey, waiting for something awful to happen again.

The only thing missing is the popcorn as they watch this free entertainment.

When they finally came back to everyone, Y/N noticed the guys had started paddling out. Everyone was talking amongst themselves, dismissing her presence as she sat herself down back in the sand, and a breath of relief escaped her lips. The tension was there, but everyone ignored it for her sake, and Y/N couldn’t be more grateful.

“Go, AJ!” Kalani cheered, pumping her fist and shouting a few hoots and hollers afterward. Dom, AJ’s brother, let out a few ear screeching whistles, the kind with the fingers in the mouth, joining in on rooting for his brother.

Watching the guys out there solidified to Y/N how real this really is, and soon her veins were pumping with excitement again instead of dread as she cheered on her best friend. He was going to qualify, they all were and they knew that, but it's always fun to get excited about the possibility of moving forward and winning the titles and earning the trophies.

All the other faces that surfed alongside AJ were mostly familiar, their names ringing bells as the announcers spoke of them, but there was one that Y/N hadn’t ever heard before. It’s the same cycle of people every year, yet this guy was fresh. And the only reason she’s curious as to who he is, is because he’s good. Like, really good.

Kalani can’t exactly remember if she’s heard of him either, shrugging to Y/N’s wonderment, “I don’t know. Maybe AJ knows.” His pink surfboard and pink wet shirt stuck out as he was a sight for sore eyes, and Y/N grew a little resentment towards him as he pulled out a few advanced maneuvers, gaining everyone’s undivided attention that used to be on AJ.

“Who is that?” Y/N’s mother questioned, looking around to see that no one knew the answer.

He was a mystery yet he radiated this vibrant energy as the guys finished their rounds, walking off with grace in his step as he laughed at something Nav -- one of the three’s friends -- had said. The girls bid their goodbyes to their families as they headed over to where the guys were before their rounds. AJ immediately came running over to them, hugging Y/N and Kalani simultaneously before giving his girlfriend a quick kiss on the lips. “You did great,” Kalani smiled, keeping her arms wrapped around his center.

“Alright, not in front of me,” Y/N grimaced, looking away from them. Immediately her eyes landed on the new surfer, still talking to Nav, and she was quick to turn back to AJ to ask who he is. “Hey, who’s the new guy?”

Looking over his shoulder, AJ saw who she was talking about before realization dawned on him. “Oh, that’s Harry. He’s from England. A really nice guy, I bet you’d like him,” he winked, causing Y/N to look at him with squinted eyes and pursed lips.

Kalani nudged his side, giving him a weird look. “What? I’m just saying.”

Then, speak of the Devil, Nav and this Harry guy came walking over, joining the three as they stood around waiting for the announcement that the girls could head out. Y/N wasn’t exactly paying attention to her surroundings as she continued to calm herself down for the impending near future. It wasn’t until Harry had stood in front of her, that she was knocked out of her own thoughts.

She looked up at him, making eye contact and briefly getting her breath caught in her throat. When he was far away, it was hard to make out his facial features or what he exactly looked like. But being right in front of him, she was merely astonished at his beauty, but more so his green eyes that reflected the perfect amount of sunlight. His wet, brunette hair rested against his forehead and seemed to be drying a bit curly.

His head tilted slightly, an amused smirk inching up his face as he watched her reaction. Something tells her he’s used to this kind of reaction. “M’Harry.”

His hand came between the two of them, waiting for her to grasp it in a firm grip. Y/N was hesitant at first but finally took his hand and shook it gently while greeting herself before dropping her hand back down to her side. “Y/N.”

This is insanely awkward. Especially because her friends are just watching the exchange silently, as if they weren’t allowed to speak while the two introduced themselves.

Harry has heard of Y/N. It’s hard for anyone involved in the surfing business to not have heard of her. Aside from the jarring news from last year, she’s an excellent surfer and her name is always spreading around like wildfire. She’s part of the reason Harry decided to delve more into the professional surfing world, because he’s been itching to meet her.

Y/N is attractive, anyone with eyes knows that, but Harry wanted to meet her only because of her expansive skills in the water. Standing in front of her, he can’t deny her undying beauty -- and if he weren’t such a gentleman he’d probably be trying to woo her this very instant. But, her looks aren’t what draws him to her, and he decides to not think with his dick for once.

Before he gets the chance to say something else to her, they get notified that the girls should start heading out for their rounds. Y/N and Kalani grab their boards and tuck them under their arms before bidding their goodbyes to the boys and scurrying off to join the rest of the girls.

“Whipped already?” Nav jokes, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders and leading them to the sand where they’ll watch.

Y/N steps her toes into the water, basking in the cool feeling wrapping around her toes and surging up her body. She rolls her neck feeling it crack softly before rolling her shoulders back and taking in her umpteenth deep breath of the day. Her and Kalani looked at each other, nodding with smiles on their faces before they walked deeper in the shallow water until it reached the middle of their thighs before dropping their boards down and paddling out.

At the sight of a small wave heading toward her, Y/N dipped herself beneath the water just to wet her hair. It felt refreshing again to feel the salt coax her skin for the second time that day, as if it never left. When she greeted the air again, she could immediately feel the rays of the sun bouncing off of her skin, illuminating her in a heavenly glow, like the star she is. The spotlight is on her as she aims herself for the peak of the impending wave, nabbing the first ride of the girls’ round.

Back on the beach, her mom’s fingers were crossed, her dad’s breath was caught in his lungs, and Harry’s eyes were fixated on her figure as she jumped up on the belly of her board. Her legs kept her balance against the rough matter below her. Due to the steep wall of the wave, Y/N had to act quick and rational in order to keep control, and started off with an off-the-lip, which kept her parallel with the wave before she moved herself down and carved herself back into the energy zone.

Because it was a smaller wave, she could only go on for so long before she tipped herself off the board and fell down into the water. Everyone waited with bated breaths and kept their eyes on the area she sunk beneath the blue, before sighing in relief to see her head pop back up. Harry could see the joy wipe over everyone’s faces, replacing the worry that was once there as they hugged one another. He could tell Y/N has such a good support system, and it only urges him more to want to be a part of her life.

Of this life.

❊ ❊

“You guys did so good! We’re so proud,” Y/N’s mom gushed as she pulled her into a warm embrace -- a hug that holds more meaning than just being proud. Her mom was relieved. Grateful. Happy. She’s able to hold her daughter one more time, and that’s all she could ask for. “It’s going to be a good year for all you kids.”

Y/N felt like she was on cloud nine. She was elated, overjoyed, ecstatic, riding such a good high. Her comeback couldn’t have gone any better and she’s just so, so happy. Arriving at the beach she was nervous and anxious and was two seconds away from caving to her fears and running away. Now, as she walks arm-in-arm with her best friend away from the water for the night, she’s laughing a genuine laugh and her veins are currently pumping excitement rather than nerves.

AJ locked his arm over her shoulders, the three of them linked just like they always are as they head towards Y/N’s family van. But, instead of like other times, this time they have a tag-a-long trailing behind them. It’s sort of like a tradition where after every competition, all of the families join together and head to dinner at their usual restaurant. Nav couldn’t come because he had his own family matters to attend to but Harry was more than willing to accept the offer. He says he came to Hawaii alone and that he had nothing better to do, but his intense stare on Y/N when he accepted the offer says that’s not the only reason he was so quick to join.

It was also part of the tradition that they ride together in the van, 1) because it was the most spacious vehicle where they were able to ride together and 2) because Y/N’s parents are pretty fun to be around. They blasted the best music and made the best jokes, causing not one dull car ride. When they filed in, AJ and Kalani pushed themselves to the back seat, leaving Y/N and Harry to sit in the separate middle row chairs.

“Oh! Harry, I’m sorry, I forgot to ask. Does your family want to join us? They’re more than welcome to,” Y/N’s mom looked over her shoulder in the passenger seat.

He cleared his throat, looking up from his phone and sitting up a bit in his seat, an uncomfortable look on his face. “M’here alone, actually.”

Before anyone could ask any questions, AJ clapped Harry’s shoulder, saying, “We’re your temporary family now, man.” Despite being competitors, it seems the two of them really hit it off and AJ genuinely meant what he said about being Harry’s family. Though, everyone knows the main reason he said it was to diminish the rising tension.

“Thanks, mate,” Harry returned, fist bumping AJ. And during the little exchange, Harry caught eyes with Y/N, catching her eyes wandering around his profile and facial features, causing her to look away quickly and look out the window as if the view was something spectacular. She could hear him snicker quietly, and just when she thinks the coast is clear, she slyly looks back at him just to find out he’s already staring at her.

They really love staring at one another apparently.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Y/N and Harry were pushed to the back of the group -- not really by choice but somehow it ended up that way -- and neither of them really made any moves to break the silence between them. Y/N because she was nervous, and Harry because he wanted her to be the first to speak. And it just so happened that when they were sat at a table, they were left with the last two remaining chairs that also happened to be right next to each other. Y/N couldn’t figure out if they were doing this on purpose or it was by coincidence, but she can tell Harry doesn’t mind.

She’s not one to be nervous around guys, but there’s something about Harry and how he is so blatantly interested in her that makes her wary of talking to him. Kalani sat across the table from her, and when they made eye contact, they had a silent conversation about how Y/N should grow the balls and actually talk to him. Of course Y/N refused, which earned her a kick to the shin in retaliation, which then caused her to let out a yelp of pain and made everyone look at her confused and worried.

“Sorry, hit my knee on the table,” she brushed it off, glaring at her best friend the moment everyone turned away and continued with their own conversations.

Being as slick as possible, Kalani directed her eyes to Harry when he wasn’t looking so Y/N could see her, before turning to AJ and talking to him about something completely irrelevant. Again, Y/N and Harry were stuck in this silence. She’s not exactly sure why she can’t just start a conversation, but he’s kind of intimidating and she’s afraid of embarrassing herself, especially in front of her family.

Pursing her lips and looking down to her lap, Y/N finally turned to give Harry her attention, noticing how he was staring into space, looking completely lost in this foreign setting. “So, uh, where exactly are you from?”

Harry was quick to turn his head to Y/N, waiting and waiting and waiting for the moment she would say something. “A small town in Cheshire. Northwest of London, if that helps.”

“That’s a pretty far trip to take alone,” she nods, licking her bottom lip before gently biting down on it. As much as she thinks of herself as an independent person, she’s also an extreme homebody and could never imagine going anywhere without anyone by her side, whether it be family or friends.

He merely shrugs in response, “M’better off alone.”

Y/N cocked her head to the side while looking at him, letting his words sizzle inside her mind as she tries to overanalyze him in the mere hours she’s known him. She turned her gaze down to her hands that were intertwined in her lap, mulling over her next words to say. She doesn’t know him, but she knows the feeling of being alone. And being alone, no matter how appealing it could sound, never works out in the end. People aren’t meant to live alone. It goes against the natural order of life, and just hearing him say he prefers being alone breaks her heart just the tiniest bit. “No one’s better off alone. Everyone needs someone eventually.”

Little does she know, is that she is his someone. Or, at least that’s what Harry’s hoping. He thinks he’s crazy for being so enthralled by someone so suddenly and so strongly, but Harry’s always been one to trust his gut. His plushie but toned gut was screaming at him that this girl is just meant to be in his life. Maybe meant to be his, but he won’t push his luck. “Guess we’ll have to wait an’ see.”

They both smiled softly at one another, a small blush creeping up Y/N’s cheeks for the umpteenth time that day. “I guess we will.”

❊ ❊

It had been a little over two weeks since qualification day. Her days hadn’t changed much in regards to her schedule; Waking up at the ass crack of dawn and heading straight into the water and staying in practically until the sun was set. But, there was one slight shift in her day, and that was the now familiar face of Harry popping in everyday, either physically or in her mind.

It was safe to say Harry was quickly adapting to the three friends, merging with them seamlessly; As if he had been part of this little group since he was a child. It’s not like any of them minded, especially AJ because he was happy to get another guy around. Their friend Nav wasn’t exactly a permanent part of their little group because he belonged to everyone and no one, but Harry stuck around them like glue and AJ was so grateful.

Y/N’s grateful because now she isn’t a third-wheel.

Harry and her aren’t exactly buddy-buddy, but it definitely helps having someone else around for movie night so Y/N isn’t stuck watching her best friend’s all cuddled up together and hearing the occasional kiss they would share.

Though, Harry has made it known time and time again that he really wants to be buddy-buddy with her. And Y/N’s not exactly sure why she won’t give him what he wants, but for some reason she loses all comprehensive skills and becomes a blubbering, nervous mess around Harry whenever he brings up his interest in her. So, she’s successfully avoided all buddy-buddy conversations with him by bringing up mundane things instead. Like, why she decided to paint her nails blue, or why she absolutely despises white socks.

She thought she was doing a pretty skillful job too. But, after the first two times she avoided giving a yes or no answer to going on a date with him, Harry purposely would ask her just to hear what other obscure distractions she could come up with. He loved hearing Y/N talk, and without her knowing, he was getting to know her piece by piece, inch by inch, and he was loving it.

Though, a guy’s ego can only take so many rejections before he gives up completely. And just when he was ready to call it quits and accept that she wasn’t interested in him like he was her, the unexpected happened.

Y/N agreed to a date.

Well, kind of.

It was time for the Hawaiian Pro. The official first event of the Vans Triple Crown. It was taking place at Ali’i Beach Park in Hale’iwa, one of the most intense surfing spots filled with waves of many different faces. Of course, this is when Y/N’s nerves really started to kick in. Qualification day isn’t anywhere near as filled with people as the actual events are, and her nerves have seemed to kick it into high gear. It doesn’t help that the Hawaiian Pro is when her life changed a year ago. She could hear people whispering about her, wondering if she’s going to wipe out again or if this time she’ll stay under the water. Her mind was already frenzied enough, but nothing completes the cycle like a panic attack and the embarrassment of many on-goers witnessing said panic attack.

She almost backed out. How is she meant to be the best when her body is afraid of taking its final breath? The tide was high and the waves showed no mercy. How is she meant to challenge that? How is she meant to control the water beneath her when she can’t even control her own thoughts?

It was getting to be too much for her. This entire time leading up to the Triple Crown she’s denied her fear and her anxiety, telling herself she’ll get over it. She’s been doing good all year, so what makes now any different? But it is very different. The calm atmosphere of her backyard is no match for the rambunctious setting of the Triple Crown. And she’s a fool for thinking differently.

So, she was panicking.

Y/N couldn’t even get up from her seat in her parent’s van because she was so shaky. Her father held her close, easing her back to reality and away from her tortuous mind. Of course, he offered to drive them back home and away from the competition, telling her again that she didn’t have to prove herself to anyone. But, she declined again. Because she needed to prove it to herself. She’s stronger than her mind lets on, and she needs to make sure she knows that.

When she slid off her board and sank her toes back into the warm sand after a very successful first round, landing her in the lead spot, she was finally able to breathe again.

People congratulated her on her comeback, astonished to see her doing better than ever before. Her parents embraced her with love and elation, so beyond happy to see her laughing and smiling and enjoying herself now that she’s progressing forward. Kalani of course is her number one supporter, practically jumping on her and screaming in her ear about how happy she is for her best friend.

Everyone was making their rounds hugging Y/N, and then it was Harry’s turn. They didn’t exactly embrace like the rest of them had, but he threw his arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side, squeezing her to him softly before looking down at her and saying, “Absolutely wicked, love. Gotta teach me some of y’fancy moves.”

“You sure? They’re really only meant for the pros,” she teased, biting at her bottom lip to conceal her laughter as he scoffed.

“”Ey, no one likes a narcissist,” he shoved her shoulder softly, rolling his eyes as her laughter rang through his ears. “But, whaddya say? M’gonna need a good teacher if I wanna make it to the big leagues.”

Y/N simply shrugs without really thinking much into it, “Sure.” Her mind didn’t exactly process what she had agreed to until later that night, before she dozed off into her temporary slumber. Her eyes shot open and her body sat upright as an over dramatic gasp was inhaled into her lungs. Her mind had been all over the place with the competition that she didn’t realize that she had agreed to being alone with Harry for the first time since they'd met. Immediately she texted and called Kalani, to which she got laughed at in return.

“Kalani, this isn’t a laughing matter!”

A few miles away, Harry was snuggled into his bedsheets, a bright smile stretched across his face as he reveled in the idea that he finally was going to be alone with Y/N since the first time they’d met. His heart was jumping and his stomach was fluttering as he envisioned her pretty face behind his eyelids before he drifted off into his dream with her.

“It so is! C’mon, Y/N, what have you got to lose? You have the same interests, he’s funny, he’s hot, and he clearly is into you. Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.”

Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.

That’s the thought that stuck in her mind, lingering around as she finally fell asleep, and then when she woke up, and when she was eating breakfast; And doing her chores; And hanging out with Kalani; And eating dinner; And then falling asleep again. Y/N didn’t even realize she had spent so much of her past year focusing on her career and health that she hasn’t done much of anything else.

She’s so grateful to be alive, but she’s hardly given herself the chance to live again.

Before her accident, she was always up for adventure and was always the life of any party. After her accident, she hasn’t even been to a party. She hasn’t been in a relationship in years, she hasn’t gone on a date in a long time, and she can’t even remember the last time she’s had sex or kissed a guy. She’s been so focused on her redemption, that she can’t remember the last time she was genuinely happy.

Going on this date, but also not a date -- but also clearly a date -- with Harry just may provide her with that. And she owes it to herself, to her past self, that her accident isn’t going to shape her life anymore.

Plus, she really enjoys Harry’s company. And even if she doesn’t show it so bluntly like him, she really likes him too.

The next day, Y/N and Kalani had gone out shopping, enjoying a nice girls day out. They had bought a few new varieties of swimsuits (as if they didn’t have enough) and a few other types of clothes, got some lunch, and even found time to watch a movie. And they did all of this right up until the moment Y/N decided it was time to text Harry.

She wasn’t sure how to go about this, because she’s never really asked anyone on a date before, or followed up with plans (?) about a date. Kalani kept urging her to just rip the bandaid off and to get it over with, saying something along the lines of, “You’re not getting any younger. Plus, I think he’d slip right off his board at the sight of you in that new yellow suit you got.” It was just a simple bikini, but it showcased the majority of her skin that essentially left little to the imagination.

But, the thing is, whenever Y/N gets into the water around people, she can’t help but cover her torso with a wet-shirt, insecure of the imperfections that lined her skin. It’s rare she can bear to look at her skin, so she only assumes no one else would want to either. So, she’s not so sure he’ll fall off his board at the sight of her, but the thought is nice.

Y/N pulled out her phone and hovered over his contact for a good amount of time before Kalani grew impatient and snatched the phone from her friend’s hand. They wrestled around with each other to try and gain custody of the phone, but finally in the end Y/N was able to hold her phone tight in her hands before declaring, “Okay! Okay! I’m texting, I’m going.”

Kalani peaked over Y/N’s shoulder as she watched her type the allusive message to Harry, a proud smile carving over her lips as she watched her break down a barrier she had subconsciously put up. It isn’t by any means important to be in a relationship or to have a boyfriend, but Kalani knows deep down that Y/N was wishing to have that special connection only a relationship could provide -- a connection outside of the realm of friendships.

“There,” Y/N huffed, shoving the screen of her phone in her best friend’s face.

hii, if you’re still up to learn from a true professional, I’m available tonight :)

It wasn’t even ten seconds later that she got a reply.

Shit, I’ll be your best student, babe. I know a perfect spot, I’ll be at yours in an hour.

It was kind of amusing to Y/N that he said he knows a perfect spot, as if she hadn’t been living on this island all her life and practically knows it like that back of her hand. But, that miniscule thought was pushed to the very depths of her mind as panic coursed through her as she realized what she was getting herself into. She’s going on a date, not a date, but also a date with Harry, and a small hour wasn’t enough time to gain her composure.

Fuck.

❊ ❊

It’s no surprise to Y/N when Harry shows up to her house a minute early. She’s half convinced that he had been waiting outside of her house for the past fifteen minutes until he finally stepped up on to the porch of her house, knocking rapidly on the door. It wasn’t an emergent knock that caused some sort of panic, but it was a frantic knock that screamed ‘let’s get the show on the road.’

When she opened the door, both of their breaths were robbed from their lungs. Y/N essentially looked like she always did but something about her glowed differently to Harry; maybe it was because she’s his for the night. For his eyes only. Just him and her. He was awestruck.

Harry essentially looked like he always did but something about him radiated differently to Y/N. The same little smirk was nestled in its usual spot, but this one held a different meaning. It looked the same, but maybe it was different because it was just her and him tonight. He’s hers for the night. For her eyes only. Y/N was nervous.

Y/N left her board out on her porch so she wouldn’t have to walk around back when he got here, but she was silently wishing she didn’t so she’d get just a couple more seconds to get herself together. She just kept chanting, “It’s not a date!” in her head, in hopes it would make her feel better.

It didn’t.

Harry saw her board and tucked it under his left arm as he threw his right one over her shoulders guiding her his mode of transportation. It also wasn’t a surprise to Y/N to see Harry rolling up in a light yellow Jeep; the top down and the doors off, typical of any surfer dude, no matter where they originate.

“Her name’s Betty,” he smiled, walking around the back and giving her a quick tap on her rear end before stepping up to straddle Y/N’s board safely and securely.

Sliding through the empty passenger door to take her seat, Y/N was greeted by a familiar smell, a smell she could only associate with Harry. And even if she could never admit it, she loved it a lot. It was mouth-watering and intoxicating, and simply put, it was Harry. Even with the open atmosphere of the car, it was still drenched in this specific smell, and Y/N can’t help but giggle at the image of Harry spritzing whatever cologne into the car before arriving at her house.

A few moments later, Harry slid into the driver side, placing the sunglasses that were sitting on the dash over his eyes, shoving the key into the ignition and starting them on their journey to whatever beach he had envisioned. On the ride there, over the course of a few right turns and lefts and different exits on the highway, Y/N surprisingly had no idea where they were going. Did she think maybe he was gonna murder her? A bit. But, she felt comfortable around Harry. So, she felt it in her gut that she was going to come out alive from this… event.

When they got to the beach, it was about thirty minutes from Y/N’s house, and she had no idea where they were. They had to walk a short path to meet sand and ocean, but once they made it past the clearing, Y/N was in awe of the site ahead of her. People could think that seeing the ocean every day ruins the peaceful and magical aura surrounding it. But, Y/N never gets sick of greeting it. The sun was beginning to set, and the water was glowing with a yellow-pink hue by the horizon that blended into a bright blue by the shore. The cliff sides around them guarded the little alcove, feeding into the tranquil atmosphere.

“How did you find this place?” Y/N wondered as she kicked off her sandals, and shimmied her shorts down her legs before kicking them over her sandals. The yellow bottom of her bikini was visible, and she turned her head just as Harry took a large gulp at the sight of her in front of him; Just for him. Her blue wet-shirt stayed on though.

It piqued Harry’s interest as to why she never took off her shirt. He understood for the competitions, but even when it was just a casual outing, just him and her, or them and their friends, she always kept it on. It wasn’t his place to ask, but he wished she would’ve broken this barrier down just this once. Just for him. “Tha’s a secret for me to know and you to maybe find out.”

Y/N let out a giggle - why? she didn’t know - and turned her attention back to the boy that brought her here, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she caught Harry taking off his white t-shirt, now only clad in his little pink shorts next to his little pink board. His skin looked extra dewy, and his tattoos seemed to glint under the setting sun. Before she could devour him with her eyes, she picked up her board and took it with her, running down to the water and shouting, “C’mon slow-poke, gotta get in the water before the sun sets!”

It wasn’t a surprise to Y/N that this didn’t keep on track of a teaching lesson. Harry doesn’t need to be taught, he’s amazing on his own. He pulled off his own tricks that Y/N didn’t even know the name of, and she was asking him to let her in on his little secrets. He locked his lips in return, throwing the imaginary key somewhere over his shoulder, “Y’think I’m g’na tell you? I’m far too narcissistic to let you beat me at my own game.”

“Who said I’m gonna beat you?”

“Have you met you?”

There’s a reason Y/N’s name circulates throughout people’s brains, why her name is common in any Hawaiian household, why Harry was itching to meet her. She’s good at what she does. Insanely good that it’s kind of concerning. Not everyone can come back from a life-altering experience, but Y/N took those stereotypes and crushed them beneath the tail of her infamous yellow surfboard. She reveled in the doubts and came back stronger than ever. Of course she would beat him at his own game. She’s the only one who could.

There wasn’t any telling how long they had been riding wave after wave, in the water with no one else but just each other. But, the sun almost halfway past the horizon line was a good giveaway. They were probably nearing the two hour mark, and they knew they couldn’t stay out here all night, but Jesus, how they wished they could. Y/N wasn’t expecting to be so content, thinking this would be some strange, awkward, uncomfortable time they would want to forget about the moment they left each other’s sides.

It’s the opposite.

Just for him. Just for her.

They both laid on their boards, limbs sprawled out and dangling into the water as their bodies shut down in exhaustion. Y/N can’t remember the last time she went so long without taking at least a ten minute break. Her body was most definitely not used to it as she felt her back mold into her little yellow board, accepting the relaxation. When she finally opened her eyes back up, she turned her head to the side, admiring Harry’s profile as his arms were pulled over his head, the skin of his torso being stretched, which also stretched the ink that adorned him.

Y/N got lost in the mirage that is Harry, that she didn’t even realize he had turned his head and caught her ogling. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that her eyes snapped to his, heat traveling up through her body and rushing to her cheeks. “M’eyes are up here, love.”

“Uh- right. Yeah, I know.”

“Cool. Hey d’y’wanna play twenty questions?” He asked, sitting up to straddle his board and paddling himself around so he was facing her.

Y/N squinted her eyes, “Are we children?”

“I mean, I guess not. Doesn’t stop my five year old humor though,” he smiled, kicking his foot up to splash her with an inkling of water as his childlike, petty comeback. “You ask first.”

Y/N pushed her hand through the water to spray him in an ounce of sea salt before turning her head back to the sky, contemplating her first question. “Mm… favorite color?” She already knew the answer.

“And you asked me if we’re children? C’mon, darling, know you wanna know more than tha’. Pink. What was your first impression of me?” He wiggled his eyebrows, even though she couldn’t see his face. This has been one of those things that’s been nagging at the back of his mind ever since they first met. Their first encounter wasn’t awkward per-se, but the fleeting moment of introduction wasn’t exactly one worth remembering either. But, Harry was always going to remember it. And depending on Y/N’s answer, he hopes she will too.

At this, she turned her head back to Harry, hand covering her eyes as the sun glared at them over the reflective water. It was a sight to behold, seeing Harry glow in the golden hour light. “Intimidating. But, also unique,” she began, moving to sit herself up and paddle her board around so she was now facing him. “You remind me of a singular cloud in an otherwise clear sky. You’re not meant to be there, yet you’re not out of place.”

Harry sat for a moment, staring. Completely in awe. Head over heels. Never would’ve guessed those words to be the ones tumbling from her lips. It was the way she didn’t hesitate in her sentence, as if those words had been formulated a while ago and just now was she able to spew it from her wordbank. Just for him. “Fuck, that was beautiful. Your turn.”

“Do you really think you’re better off alone?”

Harry pursed his lips, looking off into the distance for a brief moment before shrugging, “I do. But, I don’t. If it comes down to going back to my family and friends from home or being alone, I’ll choose being alone.” And he wanted to sprinkle in the little bonus that he doesn’t feel alone when he’s around her, but something tells him that’ll just turn her away. “What’re you so afraid of?”

It’s a brash question Y/N wasn’t expecting to be thrown at her so suddenly. She has a mix of answers, and there’s a specific one flashing in her mind like a bright, neon yellow sign, but she’s not certain how comfortable she is with telling him yet. Though, she notices that whatever question she could throw his way, he’d answer it truthfully, not scared of opening himself up, just for her. She wants to be brave like that, and maybe she can be, but she’s not sure how.

It comes as a surprise to her when she does say, “I’m scared of going through everything that happened last year all over again. Everyone’s afraid of dying, or at least most people are, but experiencing death… there’s really no coming back from that. ”

“Experiencing it?” He looks at her wide-eyed.

“What, you haven’t heard of what happened last year?” She looks at him, eyebrows scrunched.

“Only know you had some accident. No offense, but I didn’t really bother myself with reading the fine print,” he shrugs, running his pruney fingers through his salted hair. He didn’t know if he wanted to read it, especially not with the sudden news that apparently this very alive, lively girl in front of him… died? He doesn’t think he could stomach reading about that.

Y/N hasn’t met a single person who hasn’t heard about what happened to her. Or at least the details of it. In reality she doubts anyone outside of Hawaii knows of her existence, but in her world it was the biggest news to affect the state in a while -- aside from, like, actual serious matters, her accident was up there on the news.

She evades his second question though, not wanting to cough up the traumatic details of her past; not yet at least. “Well, it’s my turn anyway. Why surfing?”

“I could just look it up, but I get it; you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he gave her a playful look, pursing his lips while giving her a pointed stare. “It’s different. England isn’t known for surfing. It’s known for rain and football. But, with every possible detail of m’life, I wanted to make sure I was different. My dad wanted me to become a professional footy player, so I said no. M’mum wanted me to go and get a degree and a real job. I didn’t want that. So, I turned to surfing,” he swung his arms around, gesturing to the vast sea and the board below him.

“Plus, it’s given me an excuse to leave home and come here. And y’know, so I could meet you.”

Y/N felt a small blush creep up her skin again, her eyes shooting down to her lap and her feet that were distorted under the water. Harry’s infatuation with the girl isn’t a secret, but anytime he purposely makes it known, it’s like a little secret that she’s unsure if she’s supposed to know or not. “Meet me?”

Harry kicked his foot up again so water would splash at her. “Uh-uh, my turn,” he laughed, shaking his head. He knew she thought she was slick at the way she bit her lip, containing her laughter. If she wants to play by the rules of the nonsensical game, then so will he. “Sunrise or sunset?”

“Sunset. Favorite song?” She wanted to reel back from the serious talk for a moment.

“Too many to choose from. Favorite movie?” He wanted to know every nitty-gritty detail about her.

She pondered for a moment, “Mamma Mia.”

“No shit! Me too!” His mouth dropped in shock, his hand flying up to his chest.

“Really?”

“No,” he shook his head, immediately blocking the massive splash he sensed coming.

Y/N rolled her eyes, huffing at him whilst crossing her arms over her torso, “Are you always so insufferable?”

“S’my middle name, babe. You hungry?” He laid himself down on his board on his belly, paddling himself to face the beach, ready to make a head start for the beach. Y/N hummed a response, following in suit and settling her stomach against the belly of the board and pushing herself to land. “Cool, let’s go get something to eat then I’ll take you home.”

Y/N’s legs felt weak, yet appreciative back on the sand. It felt like she was walking on Jell-O as she went to pick up her towel and clothes. Looking down to her shirt, she knew it was out of the question to let him see her take it off. And she could turn her back so he wouldn’t see her front -- whether or not it’s clad in a bikini top -- but even then her heart raced at the thought. She held her t-shirt in her hands and thought it over for a moment before blurting, “Could you turn around please?”

Harry looked up from checking his phone quickly, tilting his head in confusion before looking down to the shirt in her hands. The dots are connected and the bright neon pink sign in his head is telling him to listen to her, and not to question it. So, he doesn’t. Just for her. It’s still unbeknownst to Harry why she never takes her shirt off, but he knows better than to think with his dick, and accepts her wishes, turning his back to her.

Y/N lets out a small breath of relief, grateful he didn’t question her on it. She’s quick to rip off her shirt and pat dry her wet skin before hastily throwing on her dry one, giving Harry the OK to turn back around.

“Sorry, I just… I’m not comfortable with anyone seeing my, uh, my scar,” she mumbles, nervously moving her hair from one shoulder over to the other. Harry shrugs in response, picking his board up from the ground and wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they began their walk back to his car.

“You don’ have to explain yourself to me, babe,” he smiled down at her, squeezing her to his side softly.

Y/N looked up at him, and she’s sure that if she could see herself right now, her eyes would be twinkling in delight, with adoration. Just for him. “Thank you.”

They didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, walking the distance to his lonesome Jeep in peace. The silence gave Y/N time to think and to mull over all of the gushy feelings she was feeling inside about the guy beside her. She had no reason not to like him, realizing it was only fear that was pushing her away. But, this night displayed a soft side to Harry that she fell head over heels for. His smooth, easy-going approach to life, mixed in with respect for her, and a hint of witty humor was enough to tell her how she truly feels about him. And she’s scared, not because she’s afraid, but because she’s not.

Y/N can find herself easily opening up to Harry quicker than she has anyone else because she trusts him. She can just tell he’s got nothing to hide, so in-turn she wants to be the same. She doesn’t want to cower away, but revel in happiness. Because she deserves it.

Harry quickly secured the boards back into their previous spots before sliding into the driver side and whisking them away from their little getaway. The wind swept through their hair and chilled their still slightly wet skin, causing goosebumps to trail up Y/N’s arm as chills raked through her body. This time around in the car they both were more laid back, not singing along to the songs playing on the radio but rather just listening and taking in the blissful atmosphere they’ve created.

There’s been one question dancing across her mind though ever since he brought up the little game of twenty questions. It was the first one to pop up in her mind when she was thinking of something juicy to ask. She didn’t want to ask it though, in fear of what his answer would be. But, now she’s not afraid. She’s curious though.

“Is this a date?” She queried, turning the volume of the radio down a bit so he could hear her and vice versa.

Harry glanced at her through his peripheral, one eyebrow cocking up on his forehead, “Is the sky blue?”

“I mean, right now it’s like orange-blue,” she retorted, looking at the newly sun-ridden sky that blended shades of orange into the usual night blue.

“Brainiac. There’s your answer. It’s however you want to look at it,” he digressed, reaching over to pat her thigh - in more of a friendly manner rather than sensual.

She appreciated his answer, absolutely adoring the fact that he wasn’t putting pressure on her about anything. It was hard to comprehend just how nice he truly is, and how someone could be so perfect. She couldn’t see a flaw in his looks or his personality or his morals, and all she could wonder was how someone like him could possibly like someone like her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Harry.”

He side glanced at her again, this time raising both of his eyebrows in puzzlement, “I’ll take tha’ as a good thing?”

“It’s good. It’s… it’s a good thing.”

❊ ❊

The two of them had discussed where they wanted to go, neither of them wanting to decide and going back and forth with one another, saying, “No, you decide,” “No you.”

Y/N was never good at decisions, especially mundane ones like where to eat. She always lets Kalani decide because she could eat anything, and it’s her friend that’s the picky one. But, Harry is the same way. Whatever is put in front of him, he could probably eat (except for pickles, he absolutely hates pickles).

They settled for pizza. And it was going to be Harry’s first time trying a slice of Hawaiian.

Y/N hates Hawaiian slices, finding the sweetness of the pineapple and the savor of the ham unsettling atop her pizza. It sends her taste buds into shock and her mind into a meltdown. But, she insisted he try it, because how could someone be in Hawaii and not try its state-named slice?

They sat at their little table in the corner of the restaurant that was alongside a window, giggling to themselves as they played a little game of eye-spy, waiting for their food. For some odd reason, Harry was really good at this game, always picking the hardest of objects to point out, always stumping a frustrated Y/N.

“You’re cheating.”

“How the fuck am I cheating?”

“Dunno, you just are.”

And in retaliation to her accusation, Harry pointed to her shirt, stating she got a little soda on it, causing her to look down to her chest and see nothing but finger as he flicked her nose. “Too easy. Sore loser.”

Y/N huffed, sticking her tongue out at him. The playful banter between them was the best part of their days lately. Before Y/N even realized her feelings for Harry, she always looked forward to what they would bicker about -- in a friendly matter of course. Now, she constitutes that to just wanting to see him because she really enjoys his company, and him.

It’s been a long time since she’s felt this way about anyone, and she’s sort of glad she gets to feel this way about Harry. He’s an enigma, but a good one. She’s totally transfixed by him and she never wants this euphoria to end. He radiates this bright and bubbly energy that lifts her mood whenever she’s around him, and she’s afraid of losing that. But, she chooses not to dwell on the what-if, instead completely basking in the present and his gooey aura of happiness.

When the food finally came out, they both were quick to stuff their faces, their stomachs practically turning inside-out from how hungry they were. It came to no surprise to Harry that he was absolutely in love with this Hawaiian slice, already looking forward to ordering two more.

Y/N looked at him a tad worried. He was scoffing down three slices as if there were no tomorrow, all within a matter of two minutes. She was slightly worried he was going to reach over and take her dinner, because that’s how hungry he seemed to be. But, he should know better than to get between Y/N and her food. Like the one time he tried to take some of her fries, to which she punched him in the shoulder and then took them back.

“Hey, y’gonna eat that?” He points to her not yet touched slice of pizza, earning a glare that could kill in response. “Cool, you are, just making sure. Can’t let precious food go t’waste. It’s my turn for a question right?”

Y/N thinks back for a second to determine if he’s right or not, remembering she did ask a question last. She nodded her head before biting into her little piece of heaven.

“Was it hard getting back in the water?”

She brought her napkin up to her mouth to wipe away the drop of sauce she felt on her cheek, mulling over her answer. “Kinda. I knew I had to eventually because it’s all I know, it was just a matter of when. My parents were terrified, and I mean I was too but I can’t let that dictate my future. I love surfing and nothing is going to take that away from me.”

Not even something as horrifying as death could take her away from her true love. Not until she’s truly six-feet under, riding silver waves in the silver palace.

“Do you think you’re going to stay here? In Hawaii?” Y/N wondered, taking a sip of her Coke.

“Got nowhere else to be,” he shrugged, mindlessly tapping his fingers on the table in an arrhythmic pattern. “Home is where the heart is, right? Well, think mine’s here right now.” Across from her. Just for her.

Home is where the heart is.

“Does it count if my heart isn’t mine?”

Last year, Y/N was going about her day like she always did. She was fine, in tip-top shape just like she had been for the past twenty years of her life. The bright sun was out and shining over all of the surfers and onlookers, and it seemed just like every other regular day. She was paddling out into the water, and the perfect, golden first wave was approaching her. She pushed herself up onto her feet, balancing her body, in tune with the wave, executing a nearly perfect opener. Then, she felt her chest tighten and her body suddenly felt weak. Breathing rapidly grew difficult, causing her to instantly panic. She fell off her board, plummeting into the water, trying to gasp for air but choking on the sea that swimmed down her throat.

Feeling herself sink as her chest was on fire was the last she remembered. The baby blue sky blended into black and that was it. Her life was over.

Kalani was the one who went in after her, screaming for help as her best friend was blue in the face and not moving.

Y/N suffered a heart attack. Apparently, she had a condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, that went unnoticed all her life. On this day, her heart had thickened extensively, making it difficult to pump blood to the rest of her body. The strain on her heart caused it to give out, right when she was feeling the high of riding a solid wave. She was pronounced dead for a total of forty-five seconds before EMT could revive her. Supposedly she’s lucky to be alive, because if not treated basically instantly, there’s a slim chance of survival. But, she was able to stick it out until the hospital.

Her heart was in brutal shape, so she was sent to the top of a donor waiting list. Y/N and her family are forever grateful for the team of doctors and nurses that stuck by her side, knowing she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. Or her sheer luck.

Y/N felt a little crazy for feeling so comfortable spilling all of this information so suddenly to Harry, but at the same time she didn’t. And the best part about it is that none of it seems to freak Harry out. Nothing about who she is or how she is scares him. And that’s what makes her feel so comfortable. “My scar, it’s from a heart transplant. I had a heart condition all my life apparently. Then suddenly one day, it couldn’t handle it anymore, so it gave out. A girl named Shauna’s heart is keeping me alive right now.”

Harry didn’t blink for a whole minute.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to come up with something, anything to say to the girl across from him. But, he had nothing. He didn’t know what to say.

His silence was a little concerning to Y/N, making her wish she could just be swallowed whole by the ground below her. Was it too soon to drop the HT bomb? He was bound to find out eventually, and she figured it was best to rip the bandaid off on her own time rather than someone else telling him or him looking it up on Google.

She’s kicking herself over it.

Harry cleared his throat, taking a sip of his water before licking his lips and leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Y/N merely shrugged, “Don’t be. Shit happens. Who knows, if it never happened we may not be here now.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, his signature small smirk back on his face in its usual spot. He raised his glass, leaning it forward a bit toward her, stating, “Cheers to that, babe.” She raised her own glass and clinked it against his, a smile on her lips as she sucked up the remaining bit of her soda through her straw. She’s happy he didn’t turn and run away.

Cheers to that, babe.

By the time they both filled their guts to the point of feeling overstuffed, mindlessly chatting and spending time together, it was already past ten o’clock. The time had passed them by like it was nothing, but they weren’t necessarily complaining. The older couple next to them were though. Y/N had to pull Harry out of the restaurant before he bit the woman’s head off for how rude she was. That’s when they knew it was time to skedaddle.

Then they just drove around for another hour before Harry figured it was time to bring her home, much to his dismay. But, when her head lolled against the passenger seat headrest and her eyes would softly shut in exhaustion. He wanted desperately to reach over and tuck the loose strand of hair that fell out of her ponytail, behind her ear. He wanted to reach over and place his hand on her thigh as they drove down the highway, softly squeezing her skin before teasingly inching up towards her hidden gem.

Is it too soon to be in love?

It was like a slap in the face when Harry parked in front of her house. Reality stuck its nose into their little wonderland bubble, and unfortunately, they couldn’t push it back out.

Harry hopped out of his seat, unfastening her board from the trunk and tucking it under his arm as they walked side-by-side to her front door. He gently placed it down where he had initially found it earlier on, tucking his lips into his mouth as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I uh… I guess this is it. I had a really ni-”

“I’ve got one more question before you leave me,” he interrupted her little speech, stepping impossibly closer to her, barricading her between him and the banister on her porch. It wasn’t hard to notice the long stares at her shiny lips that glinted in the dull yellow glow of the light by the door. He purposely took extra time to rake over the features of her face before finally meeting her eyes.

Y/N swallowed nothing but air as she softly bit at her bottom lip, “Yeah?”

She already knew his question.

“Can I kiss you?”

He already knew her answer.

Y/N slyly looked at him, bringing her hands up, a bit hesitant to rest on his shoulders. “I thought this wasn’t a date.”

“Sky’s blue.” Y/N looks up at the sky and notices it’s dark blue hue, twinkling stars layers on top, surrounding the fullest, brightest moon. It was a beautiful sky, perfect to share a first kiss under.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as his hands came up to her hips. Her eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the climactic moment to overcome them, the air of the night chilling up her spine.

But, then she felt fiery, red hot as their lips locked together in a soft kiss. It was as soft as they felt towards one another. This giddy, slow paced, admiring kiss that had their insides melting but their hearts pounding. This kiss is exactly how Y/N images Harry. A pale yellow that’s not harsh on the eyes, that resonates happiness. Harry imagines it as a hot pink, one that takes his breath away and captures his mind.

It wasn’t long before it turned heated, Harry’s tongue sweeping into her mouth, and one of his hands travelling further south to grab hold of the flesh of her behind. Y/N let out a soft moan into his mouth as her hands tangled into his mound of curls, tugging softly on his roots.

Then the disturbing image of either one of her parents opening the front door at any moment flashed across her eyes, causing her to pull back, kissing his bottom lip softly before trailing her thumb over the swollen skin and opening her eyes to look into his gaudy, green ones.

The sounds of their breaths mingled together as tired smiles adorned their faces, little giggles leaving each of their mouths as they basked in what just happened. All Harry could think was, ‘It’s about damn time.’ All Y/N could think was, ‘Why did I ever push him away?’

“My turn,” she spoke after a few moments, standing up straighter and fixing her shirt around her body. “Pick me up tomorrow?”

A wide, shit-eating grin spread out across Harry’s face as he ran his hand through his mangled curls. “Sunrise. If y’not in this exact spot in the morning, m’knocking the door down and dragging you out by y’hair.” He hopped down off the porch, completely skipping the steps as the adrenaline of their first kiss kicked into his system.

“Sunrise,” she agreed.

He hopped back into the driver’s side of his Jeep, throwing his hand up in a goodbye wave as he sped away, already counting down the seconds until he would see his golden ray of bright and bubbly sunshine again. He’s not so sure if he’ll be able to fall asleep.

Y/N didn’t have that same problem. The moment she landed on her bed, her eyes shut faster than the speed of light, her last conscious thought being of Harry. Her smile never leaving her face.

❊ ❊

Meeting at sunrise had become part of their routine. Not always to surf, but just to be together. Sometimes they surfed at their little alcove, other times they would watch the sun from her backyard, snuggled up in blankets on the beach. Or, they would surf, get breakfast, then fall back asleep in his bed until a more decent hour of morning.

But, their day always began at sunrise. It would be the equivalent to say that it also ended at sunset, but sunset was always too soon to part ways.

This wasn’t an everyday occurrence, mostly at random. Except for Sundays. Sundays are specifically their day, as per request of Harry. How could he be in love with a girl that coined yellow as her color, that had a smile as bright as the huge burning star, that claimed golden hour was prime sun time, and not deem Sunday as their day? He didn’t put any second thought into it.

Despite their sort of fast paced first date, they’ve been taking things slow, truly getting used to the feel of one another over the course of the next couple of months. It wasn’t until a month later that Harry popped the question, officially making Y/N his forever buddy-buddy. Well, not necessarily forever, but they both know it’s basically forever.

Harry never wants to be alone again.

It wasn’t until the night after they became official that Y/N finally took her shirt off in front of him. She was going through one of her episodes, and Harry was the only one around who could help her. He managed to calm her down and bring her inside her house - that was empty because her parents had gone out for the night - and get her to the bathroom so she could take a shower.

Initially, he was going to let her get in by herself, knowing her boundaries in regards to her body and not seeing it. But, when he saw how worn down she looked, he whispered words of reassurance in her ear, asking her permission to help get her in the shower. He wasn’t thinking with his dick, he just wanted to help the girl that didn’t know how to help herself.

Y/N looked him in the eyes, nibbling softly on her bottom lip before averting her attention to her chest for a few moments. She trusts him, and if they’re bound to work out, she needs him to be comfortable with seeing all aspects of her both mentally and physically. Which includes her scar.

So, she nods her head in agreement.

She lifted her arms and allowed him to remove her shirt, immediately feeling self-conscious. She couldn’t look him in the eyes as she stepped out of her shorts and underwear, going into the shower to avoid any lingering stares. Harry was quick to follow behind her, shutting the curtain after him. That’s when Y/N turned around and completely broke down, the tears that have been building behind her eyes finally pouring out. Harry wrapped her in his arms, letting her cry her eyes out for however long she needed.

When she stopped, Harry washed her hair, washed her body, washed away her bad thoughts, then washed himself as fast as he could so he could get her into her bed for the night. She snuggled up to his side, enjoying the warmness of his body that contrasted her cool ones.

That night when her parents came home, they spotted Harry’s Jeep in front of their house. Though when the house was eerily quiet, and found the door to her bedroom slightly ajar, they peeked inside and saw the two of them fast asleep. Parents usually would get angry at the sight of their child in bed with someone of a different gender, but not Y/N’s parents.

Over the last two months, they saw their daughter break back out of her shell, slowly returning to her former self, and all because of Harry. They saw how happy she became whenever he was around, or they’d overheard happy she was when just talking about him to Kalani. How could they ever get angry at the fact that Y/N was happy?

With the blossoming of their relationship taking place at the same time as the Vans Triple Crown, word got around fast and soon enough they were the star couple leading the ranks in their respective divisions. The world -- or really the surfing world, because no one really pays attention to professional surfers, was in awe of them. They were the hype of the news, of the town, of the state. Rightfully so, because they’re awfully cute.

It came as no surprise to everyone when the two were crowned the champions. The press went wild with this one, stating there was some scam happening behind the scenes, because what were the odds that this new star couple could both win? Or, how could Harry, a newbie, shoot his way up to the top in just one year? Or, how could Y/N dominate with her physical ailments?

There wasn’t a hoax and there wasn’t any cheating. They both were just that good.

The day of the final competition, they may have worked just a little harder to land the championship title. Harry had picked Y/N up and they traveled to their secret hideaway bright and early in the morning. After being out at a party the night before, the two were in no shape to get in the water already, opting to snooze under the shade of a cliff on the beach for a little while.

They didn’t sleep for very long before they got wrapped up in one another, indulging in a morning session of intimate love. They slept for maybe an hour before Y/N was ready to get her swim on, but Harry was the biggest sack of lazy mush that morning. He didn’t want to get up for nothing. He was laying down on his surfboard, completely comfortable under the shade. Y/N tried tugging on his arms to get him up, but he wouldn’t budge, a half-sleepy and dazed smile on his lips.

At one point he tugged her back, causing her to land on his lap, legs straddling his hips as her face crashed into his chest. His arms wrapped around her back, securing him to her as he said, “See? Isn’t this so much better than physical activity?”

“C’mon tubby, we got shit to do,” Y/N giggled, but Harry just held onto her tighter and nuzzled his cheek to the top of her head.

He hummed, “S’comfortable here.”

Y/N didn’t know what else to do, so the only maneuver left was bribery. Harry’s no different than any guy in the sense that once sex is brought into the mix, his ears perk up and his dick stiffens. So, Y/N was going to use that to her advantage. “If you get up, you can fuck me all night tonight.”

Harry was quick to sit up, her still in his lap, eyes squinted in suspicion. Y/N bit her lip to refrain from laughing, but she was mentally patting herself on the back. His hands shifted down her back to grab onto the flash of her behind, pulling her center closer to his and building up a bit of friction. “How about right now and tonight?”

“I can’t be exhausted for today, H,” Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to get herself off his lap, but he kept her grounded.

“You don’t ‘ave to get in the water now. You’ve practiced, you’re prepared, you got this. The championship is practically in your hands already,” he disclosed, peppering kisses up the side of her neck, a few across her jawline, and then landing on her lips.

Even if that may be true, she doesn’t want that to stop her from putting effort and time into winning. “Harry…” she started, getting lost in the feel of his lips suckling a lovebite right in the crook of her neck, her most sweet spot. He lifted his hips up slightly, pushing against her heat, eliciting the smallest moan from her mouth.

“Bet y’soaking your suit. Can I see?”

They only have a limited amount of time before they need to get to the Northshore at Ehukai Beach Park for the competition. It was about a forty-five minute drive alone. But, Harry’s lips and fingers were way too persuasive, so Y/N nodded her head.

“Good girl.”

He lifted her up so her back was now against the belly of his pink board, her legs immediately wrapped around his broad shoulders as he placed a chaste kiss to her clothed core. She whined as he hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms, dragging them tortuously slow down her legs. His eyes immediately attracted themselves to her glistening slit, her wetness practically inviting him in. “So fucking pretty, baby.”

Harry’s hands pushed her legs as far apart as they would go, licking a fat stripe up from her little hole to her sensitive clit. Y/N threw her head back as he focused his attention on her clit, swirling his tongue around the little bud before sucking it into his mouth. She was a whimpering mess, but that earned her a smack on the ass and a first warning from Harry.

“No one’s around. Let me hear you loud and clear,” he gave her a pointed look, keeping their eye contact as he went a little further south, pushing the tip of his tongue into her cunt. Y/N tried closing her legs around his head but Harry just pushed them open further, keeping a firm grip on her thighs that were bound to leave bruises. Bruises just for her.

Her jaw fell slack, moans tumbling past her pink lips louder and louder. Her nails dug into his shoulders, most likely leaving scratches he’ll find later when they’re stinging in the shower. Just for him.

Y/N was growing restless as he inserted his middle and ring finger inside of her, pushing and pulling them at an intense pace that caused her toes to curl in the sand by his hips. When he managed to push his index finger in alongside the other two, Y/N began to see stars at the stretch of her walls.

“So tight f’me. Imagine it was my cock instead. Would feel so good and full, but you’d be too exhausted for later, hm?” He cooed, letting her adjust to the extra digit inside of her before fucking her harder and faster than before. He kissed up her tummy that was visible from under her shirt before landing his forehead against hers.

His free hand grabbed a hold of her jaw, making her face him which caused her eyes to open up quickly, locking eye contact with one another. “S’a shame. M’so hard, like a fucking rock. But you’ll be too tired.”

Teasingly, Y/N nodded her head in agreement, earning a hard glare from her lover. At this, he stopped the movement of his fingers, slowly pulling them out of her. Y/N’s mouth opened wide, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion as Harry sucked his fingers past his lips, indulging in her sweetness that tasted like a little sliver of heaven.

“Wh-wha…?”

“Close y’mouth, Y/N. Gonna catch flies,” he smirked, reaching over for her bikini bottoms and sliding them back up her legs until they were nestled against her soaking wet, throbbing pussy. “Said it y’self. Can’t be exhausted for the finale today, gotta be quick on your feet and coasting the gnarliest waves. C’mon slow poke, gotta get some practice in.”

So, Y/N was pissed off to say the least. And because of this, she was extra determined to push herself as far as she could to come out on top today. Harry on the other hand, well he was just mad that he had an insane hard-on that his own girlfriend didn’t want to tend to. He should’ve expected his little stunt wouldn’t go over nicely, but the look on her face when he stopped was absolutely priceless.

When it was announced that Y/N and Harry had won in their divisions everyone was beyond elated at the news, cheers and hugs and kisses spread all around the group. Though when it was their turn to congratulate each other, they looked at each other, small smiles on their faces before they turned to make conversation with someone else. That didn’t stop them from reaching for one another though, slyly interlocking their hands together.

They were whisked away quickly for pictures, holding their trophies high in the air, the biggest smiles on their faces. Y/N’s parents were cheering them on, more specifically her because they were so proud she was able to take her life back. Y/N could cry at the sight of her mother being a blubbering mess, and her dad’s admiration sparkling across his eyes. Though, with the support of her family, Y/N’s mind couldn’t help but wonder about Harry’s family, and how they couldn’t support their son with what he loved.

With this, Y/N squeezed his hand harder, and despite the cameras around them, she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss to his lips, the clicks of the cameras and the chatter of the crowd increasing. But, neither of them cared as they looked at one another, full of love.

Because that’s what this was. Love.

It didn��t matter that they had only met a little over three months ago, only dating for two months. They were in love. And that’s all that mattered.

Going out to dinner that night, they hardly left each other’s sides. They were being that obnoxious clingy couple that no one likes being around, but they didn’t care. Because they both knew they were in love. An unspoken love that didn’t have to be announced because the whole world knew, and so did they.

“Cheers to the love birds! And for the love of God, could you stop looking at each other like that,” AJ gagged, causing everyone to laugh before they clinked glasses.

When they left the restaurant, Harry and Y/N hopped into Betty, driving around for a little while before they decided to stay at his for the night. It was when the wind was blowing in her hair again, the moon shining above them and shining through her hair, his hand gently on her thigh, squeezing softly in contrast to that morning, that Harry truly felt it. This love that he has for this girl. Love that’s meant just for her. Her, and only her.

This gushy feeling was put on hold for a little while though the moment they walked through the door of his apartment. Y/N was bent over the arm of his living room couch, her one leg bent and on the armrest beside her while the other was trying its best to keep her steady on the ground. Harry’s fist was wrapped up in her hair, proving to make it more difficult for her to keep her balance. Though she wouldn’t want it any other way.

“What’s the matter, babe? You said I could fuck you all night.” Harry’s hot breath coated the shell of her ear, “Y’tired?”

She gasped at a particularly hard thrust that felt like it had hit against her cervix, trying to get the word No out in between her moans and whimpers.

“Hope not. Had me aching all day for your tiny cunt. M’gonna need a few hours to really appreciate it.” She could feel his menacing smirk against her skin as he again thrusted so far deep inside of her, her one leg gave out. If it wasn’t for Harry holding her up, she would’ve fell right over, too weak to even try and get back up.

They went twice on the couch before Harry helped her get to the shower, where they did it again. And then when they finally cleaned themselves, they got into bed, where they did it again, but this one could be classified under love-making. It was slow and sensual and sweet, just like them. Harry paid extra attention to her scar, trailing down the tissue with soft kisses as they softly climaxed together.

It was a little past midnight at this point, and they were both extremely tired. Y/N was on the brink of dozing off into dreamland before Harry interrupted her exhaustion.

“We never finished our game of twenty questions, did we?” He murmured, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Y/N lazily opened her eyes, shaking her head, “Don’t believe so.”

“Think it’s my turn,” he hummed. “Do you love me?”

There was silence for a brief couple of seconds, making Harry think Y/N had dozed off before answering his question. But, Y/N just needed those seconds to collect her mushed thoughts inside of her mushy brain before giving him a coherent and valid response.

“Yeah. I do.”

Harry smiled, probably the biggest he’s ever smiled, leaning down and taking hold of her face and smashing their lips together in a ceremonious kiss.

“Sick. Ditto, Sunshine.”

#it would mean so much if you tell me what you thought #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles #one direction fanfiction

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downondilaudid · 4 years

Text

Taboo Nightmare

Reader has an amazing one night stand with a stranger from a bar, only to regret her decision days later when she walks into class and realizes he’s her new professor.

LOOK AT ME, FINALLY posting. I am finally motivated.

Requested: No

Prompts: None

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: BASICALLY JUST SMUT, Penetrative Sex, Fingering, Degradation, Light Humiliation, Light Impact Play.

“Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.”

― Emery Allen

Your body felt warm with the alcohol coursing through your system. The bright club lights shimmered on your black sequin bodycon dress. The euphoria you were experiencing almost felt superficial, it was addicting.

Sweaty bodies mangled on the dance floor, you being one of them, grinding your hips against one of your close friends. To say you had dragged her to the club would be an understatement, she had practically kicked and screamed the whole way here. But now here you were, both relaxed and having the time of your lives.

From across the club, your eyes met with a man’s, his figure tall and dressed in a fitted blazer. He definitely didn’t look like he should be at a club. His features were almost unrecognizable in the low light, but his gaze was strong, strong enough to force you to look away. You turned to your friend, “I’m going to get another drink.” She nodded in understanding.

At first, you actually were headed to get a drink, standing near the bar, waiting to flag down the bartender, who seemed to be frantically running around to collect orders and mix drinks. The club was definitely understaffed tonight.

A presence could be felt beside you, and a flicker of hope rooted in the pit of your stomach, maybe you wouldn’t be going home alone tonight. You turned your head slightly, peering over at the man, and apparently, he had the same idea. You cleared your throat, wishing you could’ve guzzled more alcohol before the encounter. Too late now, “This doesn’t look like your scene” you pointed out, your voice raised to overpower the music.

The light hit his face, and all the breath in your body vanished, everything about him was perfect. You tried to memorize the way he looked before the light left his face. “It’s not” he responded, his voice was smooth yet punctuated. Just by the way he held himself you could tell he was an intelligent individual.

You couldn’t help the girlish giggle his words drew out of you, “then what are you doing here? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“I’m here with a friend.” He answered, before saying another sentence. Unfortunately for him, it was drowned out by the music, fortunately for you, it gave you the perfect opportunity to get him alone.

Your friend was long forgotten as soon as the words left your mouth, “It’s really hard to hear in here, do you want to step outside?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder, pointing to the door in case he couldn’t hear you.

He retreated a bit, almost surprised at your bold question. For a moment you thought you had made a mistake, only for his head to nod as he brushed past you, making his way to the exit. Quickly you followed after him, the sudden change in his mood making your head spin. Yet, you were still determined to regain the higher ground, you were the predator, he was the prey, even if he didn’t know it.

The cool night air brought you back to earth, your feet halting just in time to keep yourself from running right into the man’s back. At that point, you realized you still didn’t know his name, and here you were, outside, practically alone with him, despite the few wandering pedestrians.

He turned back around to face you, his face visible now, and dear god was it a sight. His eyes were a deep hazel, and you were sure every woman on the planet was envious of his perfectly plump pink lips. He was definitely older than you, probably by quite a few years, but that never bothered you “Spencer.”

Confusion dawned your face, your eyes widening with realization, that was his name. “Y/N” you introduced, right now the two of you were neutral, but you craved the higher ground. You wanted your name to tumble from his lips, and his large hands to wrap in your hair. His eyes scanned your body slowly, lingering on your exposed legs.

You raised your fingers, snapping to get his attention, “my eyes are up here” you teased. Spencer’s head snapped up to meet your eyes, a flustered look on his face. The sound of your laughter filled the cool night air, “it’s okay, I don't mind you staring at me.” You took a step closer to him, watching as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. “I’ve been staring at you all night.” He didn’t retreat from you, and you took it as a sign to let your hands run lightly up his chest. A burning desire ignited in your stomach as he flinched at your touch.

“A-are you sure about this? You’re a lot younger than me.” He stumbled over his words, his body subconsciously leaning into your touch.

“I like my men older.” Your hands drifted south, fingertips dipping into the hem of his slacks. Spencer’s hands shot out, wrapping around your wrists, yanking them away from his body. With a quick tug, he had you pulled flush against him, his warm breath fanning over your ear.

With every slightly ragged breath he took, his chest rubbed against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, this was the exact reason you always went for older men. Guys your age were so boring, and inexperienced. But, this man would take his time with you, he would let his primal urges take over, he would absolutely break you. And that’s exactly what you wanted, and you knew every card to play to get what you wanted.

“You think you’re so cute? Acting like you’re the one in charge? I’m not even sure you could handle me.” Every perfectly punctuated syllable he spoke sent shockwaves to your core.

An inhale of the cold night air stuck in your throat, a sharp contrast to the warm body pressed up against you. “Funny” you began, yanking your wrists free from his grip, “I think you’re the one that can’t handle me.” It was exhilarating to see Spencer’s eyes darken with desire, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. His hands found a vice grip on your arms, pulling you from your dazed state. Whether it was the alcohol or lust that was clouding your mind, you didn’t know.

“I’m giving you one last chance to turn around, and pretend like this never happened.” If you weren’t so ready for this man to fuck you, you would say his statement was almost thoughtful. But, that was not you, some strange fate had brought the two of you together, and who would you be to pass up an opportunity like that?

There was no stopping the smile that wormed its way onto your face. You steadied yourself by latching your hands onto his forearms, now happy that you had worn heels. Your eyes locked on his, greedily enjoying the sight of his perfectly sculpted face as you spoke “not a chance in hell.” Just like that you were being roughly pulled to the parking lot of the club, and into the car of a stranger. You were very much aware that this man could be a serial killer for all you know, but who doesn’t make stupid decisions in college? The answer is girls without daddy issues.

The car ride was short, almost as if you had teleported to your destination. Which you assumed was Spencer’s apartment. His large hand had remained on your exposed thigh throughout the whole ride, his thumb rubbing teasing circles.

The second Spencer flicked on the light, and you closed the dark mahogany door, he was on you like a feral animal. His hands danced viciously up and down the curves of your body, his mouth moving in sync with yours. Your hands met his shoulder, fervently working to tear off his blazer. With every passing second, the heat coursing through your body became too much to bear. You just wanted to feel his smooth, warm skin against yours.

Air-filled your lungs as soon as you pulled away, the both of you panting for breath. His hands retreated from your body, beginning to unbutton his dress shirt. Taking the initiative, you reached for the zipper on the side of the dress, pulling it down slowly.

Spencer’s dark eyes scanned you like a hawk, seemingly memorizing your every move. The shimmering dress slipped from your shoulders, gliding over your hips with, surprisingly, little resistance. You could feel your nipples harden as the cool air kissed your skin, as the dress hadn’t required you to wear a bra. The fabric pooled at your feet, discarded as you stepped out of the circle of fabric.

A low grumble emitted from Spencer’s throat, he was clearly enjoying the show you were putting on for him. “See something you like?” You questioned, your voice seductively sweet.

“Definitely” he replied, his voice low and trickled with lust.

The two of you shared the same idea as you simultaneously took a step forward, closing the space. His mouth met yours in a frenzied kiss, the proximity causing your breasts to rub softly against his chest. Spencer trailed sloppy kisses down your neck, sucking softly here and there. A content sigh left your mouth, and your hands trailed up to tug on the hair at the nape of his neck.

Each kiss placed to your neck hit you straight in your core. It was times like these where you felt lucky to have daddy issues.

Spencer pulled back, his hands leaving your body to work on unbuckling his belt. You looked up, your eyes meeting his as he finished unbuckling the belt.

A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips, so far, Spencer’s actions hadn’t matched his words. Nothing he had done was rough or teasing. Luckily, you knew exactly how to push him. “You know, you’re all bark and no bite.” You pulled the belt from his pants, letting it clatter to the floor.

His arms crossed defensively over his chest, perfectly accentuating his biceps. “Really, you think so?” His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed as if mocking you.

Here we go. “Mhm,” you hummed. You spun on your heel, leaning down to pick up your discarded dress. “If you’re not going to fuck me like you said you would, I’m going to leave. You’re just wasting my time.”

You rose back up just in time to see Spencer rush forward, his hands meeting your shoulders. With a shove your back hit the wall, a huff escaping your lips from the impact. Before you could blink his large hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing lightly on the sides. His grip allowed him to angle your head up, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

His hair fell in his face, just above his eyebrows. Even with the yellow lighting of his apartment, he looked gorgeous. “You want to know what I think?” He paused, his other hand leaving your shoulder to run his thumb over your bottom lip. “I think…” he paused again, shoving his thumb into your mouth.

Now we’re talking, this is exactly what you had wanted. Your lips wrapped around his thumb, your tongue swirling around it. “I think you’re a young naive girl, with unresolved daddy issues, who’s desperate for attention from any male she can pull.”

His words should’ve made you run for the hills. You should’ve grabbed your dress and left. But he was right, his words didn’t hurt, in fact, they had the opposite effect. Arousal flooded your core as you rubbed your thighs together to relieve some tension.

“Enlighten me, am I right?” He pulled his thumb from your mouth, wiping the excess spit on your chin. You nodded, you felt like you were addicted to his every move, every intake of breath. His hand around your neck tightened, shocking you back to reality. “Am I right?” He growled, his voice slightly more punctuated than usual.

“Yes, yes, you’re right.” your voice cracked as his hand that was in your mouth began a slow trail down your stomach, running along the hem of your panties. Spencer leaned forward, his mouth resting next to your ear. “How desperate are you?” He whispered, drawing a light whine from your lips.

Your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, trying to pull his hand to your core. “Please,” his hand dipped into the waistband of your underwear, fingertips trailing lightly over your folds.

The hand around your neck loosened its grip, allowing more air to flow into your lungs. Still, you felt suffocated, the pure lust clouding your mind and body. “Not so confident now, hm?”

Usually, this is the time where you would push back and take control, and show them you’re more than a pretty face. But that's not what Spencer was looking for, he wanted to watch you beg for him. So you would play nice, and give him that, as long as he gave you what you wanted.

You bit down on your bottom lip, shaking your head coyly. Spencer mimicked your action, his teeth dragging along his bottom lip. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes! Just fu-” you huffed, restraining yourself from acting out. “Just do something, please?” It was a well-balanced mixture between begging and demanding. You were obviously desperate, but you pleaded politely.

As if your pleading wasn’t enough already, you allowed your lips to pull into a pout, your eyes rounder than usual as you stared up at Spencer. “Since you asked so nicely” he replied, his fingers finally finding solace at your core, rubbing slow circles against your bundle of nerves.

Every moment of buildup was absolutely worth it as his fingers played you like a fiddle. Your mouth fell open, a low moan escaping your lips. “Spencer, fuck!”

“Look at you,” Spencer spat, his fingers moving down to your entrance. “Making a mess all over my hand.” Two of his long fingers entered you, crooking slightly. Your hand fell from his wrist, nails coming up to scratch back down his chest.

“Harder, fuck!” This is exactly what you wanted, his hands on your body, in your body, ravishing you. He obliged your request, the obscene sound of skin smacking against skin filling the room. Porn-worthy moans left your lips as his fingers curled more, rubbing perfectly against your dimpled patch of skin.

Your back arched off the wall, and your chest heaved with pants. If you wanted to keep your submissive control you would have to control yourself. It was hard to do with Spencer’s perfect fingers buried in your cunt, his other hand wrapped tightly around your neck, varying in pressure.

You lapped up every ounce of pleasure Spencer gave you. The feeling was addicting, your head clouded and free of external worries, as your eyes fluttered shut, lost in bliss. Your hips ground onto his hand as your orgasm approached.

The hand dancing on your windpipe retreated, quickly grabbing onto the sides of your face, forcing your lips into a pout. Your eyes snapped open, met with Spencer’s dark ones. “Look at me while you cum” his fingers worked faster, his wrist angling with every thrust so his palm would rub deliciously against your clit. “A man you just met, who you blindly followed into a car. How ignorant can you be? I guess it makes sense, you’re just another whore desperate for the validation of a man.”

His taunting words sent you barreling into your orgasm, screaming out his name over and over again. Your thighs clamped onto his hand, entrapping it between your legs. Spencer’s hand released your face, allowing your head to fall forward to rest against his chest. His free hand wrapped around your body, viciously digging into your ass.

Once your thighs relaxed, Spencer pulled his hand from your cunt, quick to bring them up to your mouth. “Open.” Your jaw fell open, allowing him to push his digits into your mouth. Immediately you alternated between sucking them and swirling your tongue around them, tasting yourself.

But your time together was rudely interrupted by a ringing that buzzed through the air, and you began to look around for the source of the sound. Your eyelids grew overwhelmingly heavy, and the scene around you became distorted, the colors swirling together. Finally, your body succumbed to the tiredness, allowing your eyes to shut and the ringing to fade.

When your eyes opened you were no longer in Spencer’s apartment, but your own dorm. Shit. You had slept through your alarm, too busy dreaming about your most recent one night stand.

Leave it to you to fuck up first impressions. Which is why you were speed walking to class in a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You no doubt looked like you had just rolled out of bed, but I mean, you had.

Criminology honestly wasn’t something you needed to take, it was more for fun. It had piqued your interest. You had a hatred for all things school-related, and you thought, maybe if you took more interesting classes, you would be more motivated to do your schoolwork. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful, your parents graciously decided to pay for your college. School was just something that was always difficult for you, and if you couldn’t meet everyone’s standards, what was the point in trying?

Money had never really been a problem for you growing up, and you were known to have a “bratty streak.” But, you tried your hardest to be humble, you knew your family was very fortunate to live the lifestyle they do. Sometimes, though, it could get the best of you, it was your biggest flaw, but at least you were self-aware.

You had really wanted to make a good impression, despite being the stereotypical “rich bitch,” you wanted to show there was more to you than miniskirts and sports cars.

You pushed open the dark wooden door slowly, trying not to disturb the lecture. At least you wouldn’t miss much, just the first half of the syllabus.

The professor turned to you, watching as you ducked your head, practically running up the auditorium and to the first open seat you saw. You hoped he would have resumed his lecture by the time you had set your stuff down, and picked up the syllabus off the table, but you were unlucky. His eyes were glued to you, you could feel them, and for the first time you looked up to see him.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Your eyes widened, and your jaw practically dropped to the floor, he seemed to reflect your look of astonishment. His hands frozen mid-air as if he was talking but suddenly stopped. There was no way, absolutely no way. How, how was this possible? What are the odds, what are the odds that your professor was Spencer, your most recent one night stand?

He stuttered like a deer in the headlights, his hands falling awkwardly to his sides. A hand from across the room shot up, and he immediately took the escape. “U-uh, yes?”

Your mind was reeling, how the hell had you fucked up this bad? What are the odds that your incredible one night stand turned out to be your professor?

Awkward couldn't even begin to describe the situation, and by the way Spencer’s body language shifted, you could tell he felt the same. His hands which usually flailed wildly while he spoke, stayed still at his sides, and his eyes looked anywhere but you.

By the time class was over, you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat, ready to bound out of the auditorium and switch classes. There was no way you could confront him, how are you supposed to, ‘oh, hey Spencer, how’s life? Still making girls come like crazy on your cock?’ Yeah, that definitely wouldn’t work.

You had already stuffed your laptop into your Louis Vuitton bag, pulling it over your shoulder. Students filed out of the room, and you prayed to every higher power that you disappeared into the crowd.

“Miss Y/N” fuck, if it were any other time, that phrase would be hot. You kept walking, in fact, you quickened your pace, and kept your eyes trained on the ground. “Miss Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?” His voice was louder this time and dripped with authority. Out of all people in the club, you picked your future professor! But, unfortunately for Spencer, you were known to be very stubborn, so you continued your way to the door, your pace picking up speed. You were sure you looked insane rushing to the door, pushing through the crowd of students.

You looked up, body coming to a halt just in time to keep yourself from crashing into the back of a large man. You tried to say excuse me, and push past him, but he was like a giant brick wall, planted right in front of the door. There was no way for you to look around him and even see why he had stopped in the doorway like a fucking idiot.

A hand wrapped around your arm, grabbing your attention, and the sight was like something from a taboo nightmare. Spencer let go of your arm quickly, probably realizing how unprofessional it would look to the other students. “Stay behind for a moment, we need to talk.”

Snickers coursed around you, there was absolutely no way you were ever going to live this down. Hopefully, the other students thought he was apprehending you for being late, you couldn’t exactly explain how you unknowingly slept with your professor.

You followed Spencer back to his desk, standing politely to the side as the two of you awkwardly waited for the room to clear out. As soon as it did, your polite manner disappeared, and your hands met your hips as you shifted your weight onto one leg. “What the fuck?”

Spencer’s eyes widened at your language, his jaw falling open slightly. “You never told me you were a professor!” You exclaimed.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a defensive state taking over his body, “and you never told me you were a student!”

“I didn’t think it mattered! I’m twenty-four!!” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest with an eye roll.

Spencer turned, planting his hands on his desk, “ you’re also my student!”

You groaned, so far neither of you were solving the problem, “no shit, sherlock!”

Spencer’s head turned, sending you a sharp glare. You hated to say it but that would've been so hot if it weren’t for the fact he was your professor.

“Let’s just keep things professional.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “so just pretend it never happened?” It would be a hard task if he was going to dress in a suit like that every day. His tie was a deep maroon color, contrasting against his cream undershirt. His blazer fit his shoulders well, hugging his body perfectly, and all you wanted to do was tear it off.

“Yes, I’m not going to make you switch classes. Neither of us knew, it would be unfair for me to punish you.” Spencer stated, pulling himself back from the desk to face you.

You shifted slightly at the word punish, who the hell uses the word punish in a non-sexual context? Biting your lip, you tried your hardest to suppress a giggle, it was just so hard. A giggle escaped your mouth, your hand flying up to cover your mouth.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, visibly confused by your outburst. “T-there’s no way you just said the word ‘punish’ in a non-sexual context,” you said between giggles.

Just then a ringing sounded through the room, cutting off your laughter. Spencer glanced at his phone, picking it up quickly, obviously seeking escape from you.

You spun on your heel, taking it as your cue to leave. Right as you approached the door Spencer called out your name, halting you. “Please put on some more appropriate clothing before coming to class.”

A smirk tugged at your lips, deep down you knew this wasn’t over. Especially not after that line, and while walking out the door you made sure to sway your hips a little more than usual.

The next few criminology classes you attended, you behaved like a good little girl. But, slowly, your clothing dwindled, until you had walked into class in a plaid pleated skirt and a cropped tank, the perfect schoolgirl. Now, this wasn’t your only tactic, from what you gathered over the few classes you experienced, nothing peeved Spencer like false factoids. Which you made sure to quote, as long as the numbers were off by one or two points.

Usually, Spencer would have no problem correcting people, but it was different when you were correcting him. Today was like any other, you felt his eyes on you as soon as you walked in the door. Yet you refused to give him the time of day, innocently talking to your friend as you took your seats. You were clad in a skirt, and an old band shirt you had cropped. The outfit seemed perfectly normal for someone your age, unless you counted the fact that the shirt was short enough to expose the bottom half of your lace black bralette.

The lecture began like any other, and you absentmindedly listened for the perfect time to cut in. You had been interested in the class in the beginning, but as always, your focus shifted on Spencer. The way his large hands moved when he spoke, and how he dug his teeth into his bottom lip. You were sure half the people in the class were just there to admire Spencer, I mean, can you blame them? Have you seen the man? He’s the definition of perfection.

Your hand shot up in the air, the corners of your mouth upturned in a slight smirk. You could practically see the dread in Spencer's eyes, his shoulders drooping slightly. “Yes?”

“Can you repeat that one more time?” You questioned, pulling your laptop in front of your body, as if ready to type.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you. “Oh, you don’t need to write it down.”

You looked up from your computer, feigning an innocent look as your head tilted slightly, “it sounded pretty important.”

He shoved his pockets, letting out a slight huff, “then maybe you should’ve paid more attention.” With that he continued his lecture, leaving you smirking to yourself. You were definitely getting under his skin.

You slid your computer into your bag, pulling it over your shoulder. For the first time, you initiated eye contact, turning to look at Spencer, only to find him glaring daggers at you. God, you were really in for it.

An innocent smile took over your face, deciding to push him just a bit further, you raised your hand giving him a teasing wave. If possible, his eyes got darker, and his arms crossed over his chest. His button-down was rolled up his arms, leaving his perfect veins on display.

His arms unfolded, one of his hands motioning you towards him. Who would you be to ignore him? You bounded down the stairs, anticipation winding in your stomach. You stopped at the bottom of the stairs, watching as the last group of students walked out of the door.

Your body shifted towards Spencer, “what's up?” You asked.

He scoffed, shaking his head in astonishment, “what do you want from me?”

A sickly sweet smile curled onto your face as you took a few steps closer to Spencer, like a lioness circling her prey. “I’m pretty sure you know what I want Dr. Reid.” With another couple slow steps forward you were within a foot of Spencer. “You’re a smart cookie.”

The corners of Spencer’s mouth twitched into a smirk, mimicking your own. His arm shot out, wrapping swiftly around your elbow, and with one sharp tug, you were chest to chest with Spencer.

His hot breath hit your ear with the new proximity, “correct me if I’m wrong. You want me to bend you over my desk, hike up your pathetic excuse of a skirt, and fuck you until you’re shaking around my cock?”

Someone needed to call the firefighters, because it was getting hot in there. Your mouth fell open in a delirious smile. “I don’t think I’m the only one here who wants that.” You ran a hand down his chest, continuing its trail till it stopped to rest over the slight bulge in his slacks.

Spencer let out a light groan at your touch, “you’re my student.” He protested.

“You’re not pushing me away, professor.”

At first, the only sign he gave you that you had won him over was his tongue poking out to wet his lips. But, quickly, using the hand on your elbow as leverage, he spun you around, shoving you face-first into his desk.

The impact caused you to let out a sharp yelp, your breasts squished harshly against the desk, the wood pressing hard into the top of your thighs. “How taboo, professor, fucking your bratty student over your desk.”

His hand tangled in the roots of your hair, pulling your head back slightly, so you were facing the auditorium. He leaned over you, his breath hitting your ear, and his now noticeable bulge rubbing against your ass. “You think I’m just going to fuck you? A pathetic whore like you doesn’t deserve my cock.”

His words pulled a giggle from your lips, quick to remind him, “well, you already have.”

You wanted to push him to the edge, you craved to feel the anger coursing through him as he pounded you into the desk. He let out a huff, the smooth skin of his hands brushing against your backside as he hiked up your skirt, exposing your ass. A laugh sounded through the air, and he hooked a finger in the lace fabric of your black thong, pulling lightly and letting it snap back against your skin. “Did you wear this just for me?”

“Would you want me to?” You could tell your snide comments were irking him, as his hands ran over your smooth skin, gripping harshly at your ass.

His hands left your skin, and the rustling of fabric could be heard behind you. “Open your mouth.” Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, still, you obeyed, letting your jaw fall open. Fabric filled your mouth as he pulled his tie around your head as a makeshift gag, working to knot the two ends behind you. A muffled protest left your mouth, and you attempted to push yourself from the desk.

But, Spencer had other plans, one of his palms fell to the small of your back, pushing you firmly back against the desk. “I’m tired of your backtalk, you’ll speak when spoken to. Understand?”

You nodded your head against the desk, but that wasn’t what he wanted, as he spoke again, “do you understand?” His voice was sharp and enunciated, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t around you.

“Yeth thir” you garbled through the tie, the pure humiliation of your distorted voice causing a flush to cover your cheeks.

Spencer hummed lightly, “what a pretty sound, almost as pretty as this one.” Once again you were left confused, the answer coming in the form of a swift smack as his hand collided with your ass. Your body lurched forward against the desk, a muffled scream leaving your mouth.

“Thank me, sweetheart. You’re lucky I’m even touching you.” Spencer growled out, before his hand came crashing down again against your backside. It was harsh and painful, yet you didn’t want him to stop. You were sure it must’ve hurt his hand, you know it would hurt yours.

“Thank you, thir.” The tie was warm in from your hot breath, and you could feel spit starting to trail out the corners of your mouth. Never in your life could the term hot mess be so accurate.

Spencer continued his assault on your ass, again and again, leaving your skin red hot and burning. Each time you thanked him, and each time your speech became more and more pathetic as you squirmed against the desk. The overwhelming desire getting the best of you.

His finger hooked in your underwear, this time pulling them to the side. His long digits parted your slick folds. “Maybe I will fuck you, not sure if I’ll let you cum though.” He thought aloud.

You whined at his words, stretching out against the desk to push your ass back towards him, longing for more friction. The action caused his fingers to run deliciously over your clit, eliciting a low moan from your mouth.

“Pleath, pleath fuck me.” It was crazy how quick he could break down your resolve, no longer fighting, but rather eagerly submitting to him.

His touch left your body, the glorious sound of clinking metal and rustling clothes following his retreat. “You’re lucky you’re such a pretty whore.” One of his hands met the side of your hip, the other reached up to grab a hold of your hair. The head of his cock pushed past your folds as he sheathed himself inside you.

The sounds and curses you released were muffled by the tie, Spencer pulled back almost completely, before slamming back into you. The feeling of his warm cock plunging in and out of you was incredible, and you were sure he felt the same, as he let out low moans behind you.

With each thrust his hips smacked against your sore ass, adding to the redness. The hand buried in your hair began to yank you back in time with his thrusts. “Is this what you wanted? For me to bury my cock in you? For me to punish you?”

You attempted to answer, but all that came out was a screech. His hand left your hair, letting the top half of your body collapse onto the desk. He used both hands to grab your hips, pulling you up as he thrusted, the new angle allowed him to brush against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and your jaw clenched, teeth baring down on the tie.

It was times like these that made you question whether or not you were a sex addict. Because the feeling of being filled was completely intoxicating, you never wanted it to end. “You know, you’re a very smart girl. Maybe if you thought with your head more, and not your cunt, you would do better in my class.”

Well, it was hard to pay any attention when your professor was Spencer fucking Reid. He laughed behind you, “but you can’t do that, can you? You’re so desperate for cock, that you purposely corrected me with false information so you could get a rise out of me.”

Your body had devolved to a moaning mess, and you squirmed unceremoniously against the desk. You could feel your orgasm threatening to overtake you from the telltale signs of your legs beginning to shake under you, and your hips rutting back against Spencer wildly.

“It worked, didn’t it? You got what you wanted? Because, now you’re here, cumming on my cock.”

Like magic, his words pulled your orgasm from your body. You sobbed into the tie, and your nails scratched against his desk. You barely registered Spencer pulling out behind you, groaning as ropes of his cum coated your ass.

Heavy breaths filled the room as the two of you came down from your orgasms. “You okay?” Spencer rasped. His hands came up to your head, fumbling with the knotted tie.

The tie slipped from your mouth, falling onto the desk. “Yeah,” your voice was equally as hoarse as his, if not more.

“Good,” he replied.

Your next class of Professor Reid’s you actually decided to pay attention and withhold your annoying commentary. Like always, the students began to file out when the class ended, yet you took your time. When the last student walked out you turned to Spencer, watching as his head tilted slightly. He was thinking, probably figuring out what you were trying to do. But, there was no need for that.

You walked to his desk, a genuine smile etched onto your face. “You up for lunch, Dr.Reid?”

His eyes narrowed at you, a light smile crossing his face, “just lunch?”

“Hmm… maybe more than lunch.” You giggled.

He turned picking up his satchel, and pulling it over his head, to rest across his body. “Only if you promise to be a good girl.” He said, taking a step towards you.

You pouted playfully at him, “I’m never good, doctor.” The statement caused the two of you to laugh, before you were off to a discreet lunch.

Tag list: @pinkdiamond1016 @gubler-squad @obsessed-with-spencerreid

#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader

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