April 29th And Rintarou Suna Was Questioning His Fidelity

we as a society need band member!sero

ITS JUST A KISS

Monoma… is broke. That is, until, he starts working part time in Recovery Girl’s office by copying her quirk. It’s all going well until a certain someone shows up with injuries that need to be healed…

inspired by this post! monoma x fem!reader, fluff <3

word count: 1.6k (!!!)

“Kirishima, Y/n— you’re up next.” 

Y/n takes in a deep breath before she steps onto the platform. Today’s class is combat practice, and students were put in pairs assigned by Mr. Aizawa. Y/n’s up against Kirishima— and he’s great! But that’s the problem. He’ll definitely be a tough opponent. 

“Whoever gets the other to step off the platform first— or to surrender, will win.” 

Kirishima gives Y/n a determined grin as he hardens his arm, and Y/n returns the favor as she powers up her own quirk. 

“And… fight!” 

Kirishima throws a punch, Y/n dodges. Y/n kicks Kirishima’s leg. Kirishima gets a hit in on Y/n’s side, then Y/n punches him right in the chest. It goes on like this, each of them landing hits one after the other. Everyone is watching the fight closely, excited to see who will win in the end. Then, a loud noise is heard, causing Y/n to turn her head. 

“I am here!” All Might exclaims, and Y/n gets a tiny bit distracted from her fight because, hello, it’s All Might! 

Wait, focus— fangirl about All Might later! She looks back over to Kirishima, and his hand flies right out to her face. She stumbles backward, and falls onto the green grass next to the platform. Right out of bounds. 

“Kirishima wins this round.” Aizawa says, “Y/n, are you okay?” 

“Yeah…” Y/n didn’t hit her head on the ground or anything, but she puts her hand on her forehead and sees that it has some blood on it. 

“Ah, shit. Sorry Y/n! I didn’t mean to hit your head like that, it wasn’t very manly of me.” Kirishima offers his hand out and helps Y/n stand up. 

“That’s okay,” she smiles, “nothing Recovery Girl can’t fix later. Good fight!” 

The cut on her head wasn’t bad enough to cause great concern, but Aizawa sent Y/n down to Recovery Girl’s office anyways. 

Dang, I really wanted to see Momo go up against Uraraka, Y/n thinks as she knocks on the door to the nurses office. 

“Come on in.” A voice— definitely not Recovery Girl’s voice, says. Y/n cautiously opens the door, only for her eyes to meet—

“Monoma?!” 

“Y/n? How delightful to see you here!” Monoma welcomes her inside, warm smile on his face, but Y/n is still skeptical. 

She crosses her arms. “What are you doing here?” 

“Recovery Girl was kind enough to let me work part time in the nurses office.” Monoma smirks, “The best part about it is that I get to see how many of you 1-A idiots end up in here injured! Not nearly as many Class B students get hurt like—“ 

“Now, now, calm down Monoma. You’re supposed to be helping.” Recovery girl says, and Y/n tries her best not to laugh. “Heal her cut for me, will you dear?” 

Monoma’s smug demeanor seems to fall, his eyes going wide as his head turns to Recovery Girl. “Heal her? But— it’s just a small cut!” 

“Wait, how would he heal me?” Y/n cuts in. 

“Well, as you know, Monoma here can copy quirks,” Recovery girl explains, “I’ve had him copy my quirk so he could heal non-emergency people. This way I can go be right on the scene of classes like yours, where bad injuries are prone to happen.” 

…Interesting. Besides his quirk, Monoma is the least suitable student to be helping out like this. From what Y/n has seen, Monoma only likes to help his classmates, and definitely notClass 1-A. 

“Speaking of, I’m off to find your class now. They’re outside on the platform left of the main building, yes?” 

Y/n nods. “Take good care of our patients, Monoma!” The door closes behind Recovery Girl as she leaves the nurses office.

And now it was just the two of them. 

Monoma sighs. “Sit.” He says, pointing towards one of the doctor’s beds in the room. 

He always has so much attitude, Y/n thinks, but she sits where he told her to anyways. She would leave, but it’s probably not the best idea to leave her cut unattended. 

Stupid Monoma. His ‘I’m-better-than-you’ attitude and that smug smirk that’s always on his face is so… ugh. If he was less of an asshole, he’d be cute. 

Wait, what am I even saying??

Monoma isn’t cute. He’s not. Y/n hasn’t thought that, not even for a second—

“Damn girl, this cut’s worse than I thought.” Y/n almost jumps at the sound of Monoma’s voice next to her. He stands in front of Y/n, placing various medical items down next to her. When he’s done with that, he frowns. “Who did this to you?” 

Y/n studies Monoma’s expression. Usually he’d be teasing her, saying that with his idiotic smirk on his face. Call her crazy, but he almost looks… worried? Weird. 

“Kirishima,” She answers, “it was an accident though! I got distracted and his hand slipped.” 

Monoma grunts in— understanding? Disapproval? Y/n doesn’t know. 

“Idiot.” Monoma mutters, and Y/n’s not sure if he’s talking about her or Kirishima. His hand taps Y/n’s thighs. “Spread out your legs.”

She gives him a suspicious look. “My cut’s on my head, dummy.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” He pushes her legs apart himself, and then he stands between them. “See? Now I can get to your cut easier. Dummy.” 

Monoma takes a wet cloth and starts to clean around the cut and he— well, he smells nice. That might seem like a random thing to say, but he is right up in Y/n’s face right now, which is being flooded with the smell of subtle cologne. He just smells nice. 

Y/n usually keeps her distance from this guy, but he isn’t that bad up close. The Monoma that Y/n sees right now isn’t the obnoxious little shit that’s always talking trash about 1-A, but a concerned… classmate? Friend? 

And, Y/n has to admit to herself, maybe he’s a little cute. Just a little bit. It’s totally the blue eyes— or the hair. Or the voice— Okay, not gonna think about that anymore. 

Monoma puts the cloth down, his eyes meeting Y/n’s. “I’m gonna kiss you.” 

“What?!” Y/n exclaims, her face quickly turning pink. Where the hell did that come from? Monoma just laughs. He gently takes Y/n’s face in his hands and kisses her forehead. 

Wait. Copying Recovery Girl’s quirk… he was just kissing me to heal my cut, that makes sense! Y/n hadn’t realized that until now. 

His quirk must’ve malfunctioned somehow, though, because that kiss didn’t make Y/n feel better. It made her heart start beating really fast, and— is it hot in here? Because Y/n definitely feels hot. 

Oh. 

Monoma’s smirk appears back on his face. “Y/n, are you blushing? Aww! Want me to kiss you again?” 

“Shut up!” Y/n’s eyes go to anywhere in the room, just not on him. Shit, she can’t like Monoma! The guy that, like, all of your friends hate? That hates you? Well, isn’t that just great. 

Monoma’s still standing where he has been, right in Y/n’s space. It’s not helping. She finally decides to look back at him, because he probably should have moved away by now. He really should, before Y/n does something that she’d regret. 

“Oh,” He says simply, taking Y/n’s left hand in his. “You’re bleeding here too.” He wipes the blood off of Y/n’s hand with a cloth, then presses his mouth to her palm. Another kiss, yet there wasn’t even a cut on her hand. That was just blood from her forehead. 

“Um… there’s no cut on my hand.” Y/n points out, and Monoma just nods. 

“Great observation, Y/n,” He teases, “I’m aware of that. I just wanted to see if your face could get any redder.” 

Y/n rolls her eyes. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that to get me to blush.” She says, despite her now red face. 

“Alright then,” Monoma starts, leaning in just a little bit closer. “guess I’ll have to keep trying then.”

“I…” Before Y/n can stop herself, she glances down at Monoma’s lips. I’m about to do something stupid, aren’t I? “Y-“

“Y/n! Are you in there?” Ochako knocks on the door, startling both Y/n and Monoma. Y/n quickly stands up as she walks into the room. “…Monoma? What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, Ochako! Who won your match?” Y/n asks, partly to take the attention off of her but mostly because she’s curious. 

Ochako grins and puts her hands on her hips. “Me! Momo was quite the tough opponent though, I just barely won…” She shrugs. “Speaking of class, Aizawa sent me to find you. We should hurry back, Deku and Bakugo are up next!”

If you know Izuku and Bakugo, you know that this fight is going to be intense. It’ll definitely be entertaining to watch too, which is why Ochako grabs Y/n’s hand and starts to lead them back to class. 

Y/n tries to look over her shoulder at Monoma, but Ochako closed the door on their way out. 

“Hey, what was Monoma doing in there?” Ochako asks. 

Almost kissing me, Y/n thinks, but she probably shouldn’t say that. “He’s… working for Recovery Girl. Copied her quirk and stuff.”

“Whatt? I never would’ve imagined him as a nurse, he doesn’t seem like the type of guy to help others like that…” 

Y/n nods in agreement. He didn’t seem like her type either, yet here he was making her all flustered. 

Seriously, out of all people, Neito Monoma?

You’re an idiot, Y/n. 

should I make a part 2? 🤭

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sink your teeth into my flesh | s. hanta

s: Sero’s jealousy flares once more after you reconnect with your high school crush during hero patrol, rekindling old memories and ugly insecurities he had buried deep inside. Just how far would he go to show you he's only trying to protect you?

w: smut, angry sex, jealousy, Sero gets slapped (in a non sexual way, but he deserves it)

n: how do we feel knowing there's only one more chapter left???!!!!! beta read by my queen @jemifis | read on ao3

previous | next | start here

10 years ago

“Okay,” you say, leaving the minuscule bathroom in your dorm room and showing off your new dress to Sero, who was sitting on the edge of your bed. “What do you think?”

He looks up from his phone and pauses, taking in your blue dress and sandals, makeup and hair done. You look beautiful. His heart skips a beat and his face reddens when you spin around, smiling.

“It’s- fine .” He looks away, forcing himself to not look love-sick.

“Fine?” Your smile drops.

“It’s okay.” Sero shrugs. “I don’t understand why you have to go, though.”

You sigh. “Not this again.”

He stands up from your bed and crosses his arms.

“I’m serious. Monoma hates our class, why would he want to go out with you?”

“Wow, Sero. Thank you.” You turn around to enter the bathroom again, but Sero catches you before you do.

“No, I mean!” He holds your elbow, turning you to face him, “Why would you want to go out with him?”

“He makes me laugh,” you shrug.

“That’s not very hard to do, is it?”

“ Hanta! ”

“I’m just saying! You deserve better.”

You lean on the doorframe, head resting on the wooden structure, as you narrow your eyes at him.

“Are you jealous?” You smile, crossing your arms.

The question makes him jump, widening his eyes, “What?! Of course not!”

Sero turns his back on you, taking large steps to make some distance between the both of you. You just laugh, taking one last look in the mirror, ready to go out.

“Well, I’m going, whether you like it or not.” You declare, grabbing your purse from your desk.

“Fine. Have fun then.”

“I will!”

…

Now

“So, funny bumping into Monoma today, right?” Sero says, dropping himself on your bed.

It’s a Friday night and you were doing some chores peacefully in your bedroom, until he barged in through the window.

“You know you can use the door, like a normal person, right?” You say, dropping a bunch of clean laundry to fold and put it in your closet. Sero is still wearing his hero suit, helmet under his arm, sweat glistening on his temples. “And don’t lie on the bed with that gross suit!”

“You seemed to like the suit the other day…” He gives you a shit eating smile.

You just roll your eyes and turn your back to him, hiding the fact that you might look flustered. Walking to your closet, you pull out a spare pair of shorts and a shirt you’d always keep for when he’d show up unannounced like tonight.

“Here.” You throw the clothes at him, “Change your clothes. I just put on clean bed sheets.

Sero sighs, hopping from the bed and undressing. “You seemed so happy to run into him.”

“Who?”

“Phantom Thief,” he says, referring to Monoma’s hero name.

During a patrol round together, you and Sero ran into your old high school crush, Neito Monoma. He recognized you on the spot and you both engaged in a pleasant conversation that lasted longer than it should have, in Sero’s eyes. It’s not like he was jealous or something – he was –, but seeing you smiling and laughing with another guy made him annoyed. Sero tried to chime in a few times, but, apparently, you and Monoma had your own inside jokes and memories to reminisce about.

At the end of the conversation, Monoma even asked for your contact information so you could keep in touch, and you happily obliged. It did leave a bitter taste in Sero’s mouth to see you eagerly type your number in on his phone, but he kept quiet on the way back to the agency.

What broke the camel’s back was when Sero was on his break, after you went home, mindlessly scrolling through his phone when he saw a picture of you, him, and Monoma on a shitty gossip website. You looked so happy talking with Monoma in the picture, as Sero stood behind you, only half of his body in the frame.

It made his blood boil.

“Yeah, it was nice to see someone from school,” you answer, folding a T-shirt, “someone that isn't from our friend group, that is.”

“Especially him, right?” He kicked his shoes off, crossing his ankles.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, you used to go out with him a lot “

You snort, “Please, it was one date. He was late and it was super awkward. Remember how I kept avoiding him and then you and Bakugou had to scare him away?” You laugh, fond of the memories.

“I remember you being giddy about going out with him.”

You pause. “Are you jealous?”

Sero hesitates for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. “No.”

“Oh my god, you are!” You bark out a laugh, throwing your head back, “that's new.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. His annoyance grows by the second and he can’t even look at you right now. You walk to him, and go around your bed, patting his head in a condescending way.

“Aw, don't worry about it, you know you're the only one who can make me come.”

“Me and Kaminari apparently,” he mumbles, referring to last week when you and him had some fun with Kaminari at his apartment.

“Oh, here we go again,” you sigh, rolling your eyes, “if I knew it was going to be a problem, I wouldn't have gone along with it.”

“You even squirted all over him!” He hops off the bed to face you better.

“Hanta…” you sigh again, “where is this coming from? I thought you were okay with it–”

“I was, until you started moaning to him, like a whore –”

As soon as the word left his mouth, your hand made contact with his face in a hard slap. You were always quicker than him, your reflexes sharper than his. He stares at you dumbfounded, mouth agape. You stare back, pupils dilated and a deep frown between your eyebrows.

“What the fuck–”

You don’t get to finish as Sero’s mouth is suddenly on yours, his hands cupping your face as he forces his tongue inside your mouth. You used all your strength to push him away and stare back at him for a moment, before kissing him back, giving in to him. The kiss isn’t like the sweet or heated ones you’ve exchanged before. It’s a fight for domination, to see who’s angrier at the other.

It’s a clash of teeth, biting of lips, as Sero reaches for the hem of your shirt and hastily pulls it over your head. You reach for the back of his suit, trembling hands looking for the invisible zipper that would give you access to him; you pull it down his shoulders as you both fall back into the mattress, him on top of you.

Sero kneels on the bed, quickly pulling your shorts down and undressing his suit right after. His toned body comes to view and you salivate at the sight, wanting to lick down his torso and give him the best blowjob of your life. You’re still angry at him, so you hold yourself back, even when he’s on top of you again, mouth on your neck, hand in your hair. He sinks his teeth on the soft flesh right under your ear, making you let out a cry. He’s never been this rough with you, it’s definitely a new sight. You’re not sure if you dislike it completely.

Before you realize, Sero flips you over, having you on your stomach, and pulls your hips up. You’re on your fours now, completely bare to him, but you face the full body mirror you have in front of your bed. Your hair is all messy from Sero’s tugs and your lips are swollen and full from his rough kisses. Your eyes meet his in the reflection, full of lust, as he sinks inside you, not giving time for you to catch your breath. He thrusts inside almost immediately, only pausing to press his chest to your back, and tangle his fingers on your hair. His lips touch your right ear as he makes eye contact with you through the mirror.

“You like it when I’m rough with you?” He says, still thrusting hard inside of you. You don’t respond, still trying to catch your breath from being impaled by his dick just moments ago. Sero pulls your hair even harder when you’re about to close your eyes, so you look back at him, “You like to be treated like a slut, don’t you?”

“Shut–”

“I saw your face when I called you a whore. It makes you horny.”

You hate it. You hate it that he’s right. You hate to admit, even to yourself, that when he called you a whore, you acted out on instinct, slapping him, but the word sent a wave of arousal to the middle of your legs. What made you even more turned on was the look in his eyes when you slapped him. His pupils dilated right after the initial shock.

“Shut up.” You push him away from you, making him lie back on the bed.

You lock eyes, tension crackling like static in the air; pushing him back almost roughly, you straddle his face, grabbing a fist full of his hair. Sero immediately grabs your hips and sinks his mouth on you, despite every cell of his body telling him not to give you the satisfaction. You throw your head back as he latches onto you, sucking and licking and rubbing just the way you like it. When you orgasm, your grip on his hair tightens and you ride his face with no shame.

Sero squeezes the flesh of your hips as you get off him, moving to sit on his cock. He glides in easily with you so wet and open for him and the position allows you to feel every inch of him. You try to control the twitches of your body, so overstimulated that you can barely move, but you do your best.

“Why were you jealous today?” You breathe out as you bounce on his cock, using his chest for support. Sweat drips down your nose onto his forehead as you stare intensely into his eyes. When he doesn’t respond, you slap your hips on his, making him let out a moan. “Why, Hanta?”

“Shit, fuck!” He curses, eyes closed and fingers digging into your skin. You know he’s close, but you wish he was closer because your legs are burning and you feel them giving in. “Fuck, angel, it’s because I love you!”

You stop, eyes wide and heart beating fast. Sero opens his eyes, widening them.

“You love me?” You ask, gasping for air.

“I have to go.”

“What?!” You’re confused now, as he’s still inside you.

Sero pushes you away from him, quickly pulling his suit up as he tries to step into his shoes. You stare at him, dumbfounded and speechless as he makes his way to the bedroom window. Before you realize, he’s gone without a word.

And you’re sitting on the bed, still naked and sweaty, words sinking in.

Your best friend loves you back.

@lousypotatoes @shoyosdoll @fresa-luna @crazyvalerie1236 @siillkie @jeanbabygirl @bookcluberror

Hey y’all, I just wanted to say thank you for 50 followers and for all the love you guys have shown me in my inbox. It makes me so happy and I honestly didn’t think anyone would read my stuff so thank you all it means so much!

-much love, serosluv2

fluff ⊹ college au

as much as he hates to admit it to himself, osamu is struggling. 

he wants to be strong — someone you could depend on, someone you could run to when life’s wearing you down, someone you could simply feel content and safe with. his thoughts were plagued with the notion that he was anything but that someone to you. 

and that’s why he does everything in his ability to bring that radiant smile — the one he finds himself daydreaming about — to the curve of your lips. 

while his friends go out to dingy frat houses, singing at the top of their lungs as they celebrate their freedom and youth, osamu picks up the night shift at the diner by his apartment. he started working there his first year, hoping to make some extra money so his mom wouldn’t have to worry about him from miles and miles away. the owner was a sweet man, roughly in his 60s, often humming an incomprehensible tune as he chopped vegetables and meat. truthfully, osamu didn’t mind working extra shifts while his friends went out (they’d call him boring and a workaholic, but he didn’t care). in fact, he was happy to make extra money if it meant that he could take you out to a fancy dinner (a local ramen restaurant), buy you dessert afterward (a quick stop to the convenience store with a smile on his face as he watches the light from the freezer section reflect in your eyes), and surprise you with flowers to end the night (hand-picked from the field a couple miles off campus). 

perhaps he should be living like the rest — either catching up on assignments in the library or coming back home stumbling and slurring his words. perhaps he should start saving his money like you always tell him to, but he’s only twenty and feels no reason to. 

he’d much rather be here, at the silver counter at the back of the diner kitchen, experimenting with different sauces while the man next to him hums the same usual love song. this time, the aura’s a bit different. the man has a smile on his face, he’s chopping the green onion at a slow beat as if there’s a metronome playing in his head. 

“son, ya like cookin’, don’t ya?” 

“i do, sir,” osamu continues to add garlic to the simmering sauce in his pan, a sugary sheen glazing over it. 

“why not cook at home? bring that special someone ya keep thinkin’ about,” he jerks his elbow towards osamu’s arm. 

“i like working here. i like the people, and the food, and the sounds.” 

osamu also likes how you visit him every friday when your classes end. without a doubt, rain or shine, you’ll glide into the diner with a soft smile on your lips. he likes how you walk over to the counter and ask him if there’s a ‘samu around. he also likes how you look behind him, checking on the man who’s too busy tapping his wooden spoon against the pot to notice, before placing a gentle kiss to his lips. and in that moment, he lets himself close his eyes, relax a little, melt into it like softened butter. 

and when you pull away, you see the sleepiness in his eyes. you always wonder how he goes to class, comes to work, goes to the library to work on assignments, and then rushes back to the diner after he eats so he can work another shift. bringing your hand up to cradle his cheek, you ask if he’s okay. he leans into the warmth of your skin for a second before giving you a quick nod. 

“i’m almost done with my shift. wanna go out for somethin’ in a bit?” 

“we don’t have to eat out today,” you tell him, tugging on his sleeve like you always do when you insist on staying in. 

“not even ice cream? ya said ya wanted to try that shit-lookin' chocolate one.” 

“if your shit looks like that i’m a bit concerned for you,” you tell him, twirling his sleeve around your fingers. his teeth peek out from his lips in a dimply smile, one that has you swooning. "no shit-lookin' ice cream today."

"then what do ya wanna do? it's friday night, ya should do something fun." you notice the way he excludes himself from his words.

"how about we just chill at my place tonight? watch a movie or something? i still have those chips you like," you insist. "and my roommates aren't home. stay as long as you want?"

oh, how 'samu loves your place — the comfort of your bed, your sheets that smell like you. he can't help but nod a bit too eagerly, catching your hand in his larger ones.

he gets back to work as quick as he can, not wanting you to leave you waiting, but truthfully, you don't mind. you watch his back flex in his black uniform as he wipes down the counter. osamu can feel your eyes on him, and suddenly he has love songs blooming in his mind, wisps of a sweet melody coursing through his veins.

you're too good for him, he thinks. you don't mind his chaste kisses when he's in a rush, or when he decides to nap on your shoulder between classes.

he throws his boss a quick wave before throwing on his jacket, shoving his arm into the sleeve as he stumbles towards the front of the diner to see you again. you look up at him with something like ardor and solace swimming in your eyes. placing a quick kiss to the top of your head, osamu slips his hand into yours.

"sorry, babe, took me longer than usual to check inventory," he apologizes, squeezing your hand a couple times as the brisk air touches your skin.

"'s all good. i like watching you work. you're all focused in there."

"gotta be or that man's gonna throw me out. how else am i gonna pay for your expensive ass drinks?"

"all that for a matcha with sweet cream cold foam," you squeeze his hand back in appreciation.

"yeah, well, don't wan' anyone else buyin' those for ya."

osamu's cute like this — nose all red from the cold, a wrinkle in his brow at the thought of someone else surprising you with your favorite drink every morning. atsumu thinks his brother has it bad for you ("down so fuckin' bad, dude," he'd say), and honestly, osamu agrees. he never thought he'd be excited to wake up at the crack of dawn to pick up your favorite coffee before your 8 am, or watch you get distracted by online shopping when you should've been doing your assignment. if love is seeing you at the end of each day, kissing your lips even when he's covered in condiments and oil, holding your backpack for you after a long day, then osamu wants it all.

because even when he should be worrying about the quiz he has tomorrow and the fact that he hasn't slept properly in the past four weeks, he starts to hum that familiar love song when you unlock the door to your apartment (it's become familiar to you, too, because that tune escapes his lips whenever you're by his side).

reblogs n interactions are appreciated!

Bensler + Season One

cold coffee

pairing :

> matsukaws issei x gn!reader

cw :

> a little grain of angst if you squint, otherwise should be none

notes :

> COFFEE SHOP AU! cause I can, and I love it, and I love mattun writing this thing had me all hrmmnfjf 🥰😳 so-

mattsukawa noticed you immediately after he walked into brew for stars for the first time. you sat in the corner, fully endorsed into whatever you were doing on your laptop. you sipped out of a cup of coffee every once in a while, and he couldn't help but think you were pretty.

he came back the next day, a bit earlier, and sat in the corner opposite where you sat the day previous, waiting for you to arrive, so maybe he could eventually work up the courage to talk to you.

he watched as you walked in, bag slung over your shoulder, lightly rubbing your hands together. it was winter afterall, and he wondered if you came here everyday.

he came back, day after day, sneaking glances at you, and after a while he even memorized your order. he could state it word for word if he wanted, the words falling off his tongue as if it was his phone number, (though he thought he could probably remember your order better than he could remember his own phone number).

he snuck glances at you for weeks, sitting in the corner opposite of the little table you occupied, meant for two people, but the seat across from you always remained empty.

he noticed when you came in one day, a bit later than usual. you didn't look as you usually did. you looked tired, stressed, maybe even a little sad. you didn't order your usual order, instead just a water, and that's when he wondered if you were okay.

that's when matsukawa stood up, he approached the counter, and before he could process what he was doing, he was listing off your order and his (as he tended to not order his coffee until after you arrived, maybe because he hoped you would notice him walking past you), the words falling past his lips without a thought.

when he received two cups, he took his, asking if one of the workers would give you the other one, letting you know who it was from, and he slunk back over to his table, and he wondered if you ever noticed him too, sitting at a table for two, but the second chair always empty.

a worker walked by, stopping by you. he could hear her kind tone even if her back was turned to him.

"someone ordered this for you, he said not to worry about paying him back," she spoke, her head gesturing towards him, and mattsun pretended to be paying attention to his phone, as if he wasn't listening for your words.

you don't answer as the woman walks away, looking at the cup with wonder, and then he could practically feel your eyes on him. he had to bite back a flustered smile, sipping his coffee nonchalantly.

his eyes darted up when he heard you gathering your things, and for a second he was frightened you were leaving, that you thought he was a creep or just wanted to get into your pants.

these thoughts were interrupted when you laid your bag on the ground by the empty seat across from him, you sat your coffee on the table and settled into the seat. and for thr first time over the course of weeks, he made direct eye contact with you, and his first thought was wow... their eyes are beautiful.

he smiled softly, fighting down a blush as usual smiled back.

"thank you. for the coffee..." he shivered, he'd been thinking about the first words you'd say to him. was it wrong to think of someone he didn't even know the name of so much?

he took another sip of his coffee. "you came in and didn't order. you looked kinda sad, so I thought I'd finally try and talk to you."

"I noticed you," your words were light. "you always look at me."

he blinked at you, unable to push down thr blush creeping up his neck. "a-ah- sorry- I didn't uh- I didn't mean to seem creepy. I just..." he chuckled softly. "it's hard to not look at someone so pretty."

he noticed how you avoided his eyes, fingers fiddling with one of your jacket strings, breathing a little laugh. "I um... I thought you were really pretty too. I never had the courage to- to talk to you I suppose."

matsukawa snorted, swirling his cup gently. "same goes for me," he muttered.

"l/n," you say. "my name is l/n y/n."

he swears his eyes probably light up, and he probably brightens. "matsukawa issei, you can call me mattsun if you'd like. or issei. either works." he smirks softly as you laugh, nodding gently to his words.

"so why did you look so down in the dumps anyway?"

your smile falls a bit and you sink in your seat a bit. "kind of just broke off ties with a long-time friend of mine. I just miss them.."

the man let's out a hushed "ah," before he stands up, coffee in hand, and holding his hand out to you.

"well, if you're not too busy, maybe we could go do something. and hopefully get your mind off of it?"

your smile returns, and you stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder again, cup in hand as your fingers intertwine with his, thr coffee is long cold by nowadays, but it's okay, because the warmth of hid hand makes up for it, offering you a taste of the comfort that matsukawa could bring you.

you hoped this is the beginning of something, maybe something that will last, and maybe future you would thank present you for walking into that coffee shop.

TAYLOR SWIFT | The 1975 concert 1/12/2023 via Huxley