A Fantasy with Nice Shoulders
MDNI
Katsuki Bakugo helps you after you're hit with a sex quirk, based on the same idea as the Shigaraki one here
Katsuki Bakugo x gn/afab reader
All characters in 3rd year, over 18 and you should be too if you're reading this
Warnings/Content/etc: soft but slightly possessive Bakugo, swearing, very light violence, oral (m/f receiving), slightly public/people listening, sex (various positions), walk of shame.
*the start’s a little angsty but idk how to write anything that doesn’t turn into mushy fluffy smut
**a lot of feelings of not consenting to being hit by the quirk, but the actual physical interactions are very much consensual/have been wanted for a while
***this one’s long, it got a bit out of hand [4.9k words]
“They thought it would be funny” you hear someone say. A black cloud of dust had just dissipated, leaving a shocked Monoma and Mineta in the middle. “I don’t think they actually realized how dangerous what they did is” added another voice.
You had all heard of the sex quirk villain terrorizing the city. Every news station had been talking about it all week.
While on patrol for his internship this morning, Monoma picked the villain’s quirk up attempting to apprehend him to no avail. After some brief convincing from Mineta, they assumed it would be a fun prank to make all of the fem-bodied 3rd years a little horny. What they didn’t realize is this quirk doesn’t just make people a little turned on, it drives them to insanity if not dealt with.
“A new article was posted on this today, the effects are worse than previously assumed.” you hear Iida’s nearly robotic voice over the crowd “It can cause permanent damage to quirks and mental stability if intercourse isn’t acted upon promptly!”
Oh, I could fucking kill them you think before launching yourself across the room. Monoma dodges and yells that he’s so sorry and will make it right before running out the door to get help. Mineta on the other hand, is still in shock.
You make quick work of him, leaving him tied to a chair in the common area covered in bruises. The teachers will arrive soon with Monoma and they can deal with it. Turning away and walking to your dorm room, you hear him hurling some insult at you but can’t be bothered to listen.
Most of your classmates are trickling out of the area. Fortunately, the others in your class affected by the quirk all seem to be taken care of. Your best friend Shoto is even leaving with his crush. You’re happy for him but can’t say it doesn’t hurt a bit that he didn’t bother to check on you. It’s not a big deal though, Momo needs help.
And you’ll be fine.
You think.
Or maybe you won’t be.
The happiness for your friends using this as a catalyst to confess to their crushes feels sharply in contrast with the overwhelming loneliness and dread you feel walking back to your room alone. Sure, you have a crush on someone too but he left earlier this morning and you didn’t expect him to be back until tomorrow night. Bakugo frequently leaves on the weekends to visit his parents.
You consider texting Denki or Kiri for his number but they just left with their crushes as well and you’d rather not interrupt them.
Besides, even if Bakugo was here, you don’t think that would make much of a difference. To put it lightly, he doesn’t seem to be into you. When you and Shoto hang out in the common area like you always do, his red eyes glare at you from across the room. Just seeing you seems to put him in a bad mood. He doesn’t even yell at you like everyone else, seeming to ignore your mistakes as if they aren’t worth his time to correct. He did argue with you once, the first day of school but when you threw it back at him he just stared at you. After that, he always seemed indifferent. It was disappointing, his sass seems like it could be fun sometimes.
You’d since written it off as a lost cause and tried to move on. Still, there’s something that draws you to him that you can’t quite place. Something in his eyes that hints things could be different.
You close the door to your dorm, comforted by the familiar space. Iida’s words ring out in your head again “...permanent damage...”
That’s just one article, maybe this won’t be as bad as they say you think before a dizzy spell makes you double over.
Flopping face first into your bed, you scream into your pillow.
Katsuki Bakugo just got back from the gym, walking into an uncharacteristically deserted common room. It is Saturday, right? His eyes light up when he sees Mineta still bound to the chair you left him in.
You didn’t fucking ask for this.
Someone finally snapped, good for them. He’s a little sad to have missed it.
“What happened?”
Mineta stammers at the looming figure above him before blurting out random bits of the story. “t-the villain. Sex quirk. And Monoma- we thought it was harmless but then-”
Of course he’d heard all about this quirk, who hadn’t. Clearly Mineta.
“Are you that fucking stupid?”
“N-no we just thought-”
Bakugo was losing interest, having put the dots together by now. At this point, Mineta was rambling how it would be okay, listing the names of their classmates who had left together.
“Jiro and Kaminari, Ochaco and Midor-”
“Raccoon eyes and Red, [y/n] and Icy Hot, yeah yeah”
“What? No. Todoroki didn’t leave with [y/n], he left with Momo.”
“Huh?” Curiosity replacing the disappointment in his voice. “Who’s with [y/n] then?”
“No one, they left alone. Serves them right. That delinquent’s the one who did this to me!”
“Glad someone finally did,” Bakugo mutters under his breath, smacking Mineta with a small blast while walking past him to the stairs.
Back in your room: you’re losing it. Every article says the same thing: you’re fucked. You’d read as many as you could before the overwhelming desire became too much to handle and you couldn’t keep track of the sentences anymore. You tried to fix it yourself too, but no matter how hard you tried your touch only seemed to amplify the problem. Leaving you feeling overheated, your panties desperately drenched. It’s only been fifteen minutes, this will get even worse.
“Oh come on, you can’t just leave me here - wait!”
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
It’s probably one of your friends, you think, wondering who would bang so loudly on your door (also who finished that quickly????) In the heat of the quirk, you’d taken off your hoodie - leaving you in a nearly see through white tank top and the tiny athletic shorts you’d been wearing all day. Your friend’s wouldn’t care though.
KNOCK KNOCK.
You make your way to the door, thighs clenching around your aching groin as you walk. Swinging it open, you find yourself face to face with a black skull hoodie. Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest before remembering, he doesn’t like you. And he’s not even supposed to be here this weekend. Why’s he here?
“Bakugo, why are you here?” you grumble, sounding much more gruff than intended.
“Uh, nice to see you too?” his fingers tap impatiently on the door frame next to your shoulder.
“Any other day, I’d love to word spar with you but today I just can’t.” you turn to close the door.
“Why? Are you mad your crush left with someone else?”
“What?” you rub your eyes in confusion before getting distracted. Bakugo is hot in workout clothes on a normal day. This quirk was rendering it nearly impossible to concentrate on his words. Not with the way every muscle in his thighs appears to be sculpted into his pants, leading up to his-
“Icy Hot.” he repeats himself, “He left with pony tail. ‘s why you’re pissed, right?”
Oh, that. You’d forgotten about that.
“What? No. Shoto and I are just friends. Besides, he’s had a crush on her forever and she needed his help.” you say blankly.
“You needed help too though,” that one stung. He continues, “sounds like a shitty friend if you ask me.”
“Look. If you’re just here to criticize my friendships, I can’t deal with it right now. Are you done?“ your voice breaks. You step back slightly, hoping to hide in the dimness of your room. He’s not wrong, but you really don’t want him to see you cry.
“I-” he notices the tear in the corner of your eye and knows that one hit too close. He’s off to a bad start. If he keeps talking like that, you’ll definitely slam the door in his face.
Much more quietly he tries again. “Look. I didn’t mean to- fuck, I’m so bad this.” Biting his lip, he wipes his hands on his pants before shoving them in the front of his hoodie. His cheeks flush, making the scar under his eye look pale in comparison. Is he nervous? That can’t be it.
Regaining his composure, he looks back at you. “I came to see if you’re okay, if you n-need anything.”
It’s the most quiet you’d ever seen him. He can’t look you in the eyes. Glancing down, he notices how see-through your shirt is before quickly looking away. He focuses hard on the walls of your room, hands still deep in his pocket.
Of course you’d always wanted Katsuki Bakugo in your dorm room, but assumed it would be different. You imagined that one day he’d start fighting with you like everyone else and fighting would turn into play fighting which would turn into him being nice every once in a while. You always assumed, under his prickly exterior, he’d be soft and sweet inside. You’d never seen it though. Not even when the prettiest girls in your school threw themselves at him, only to be on the receiving end of an explosion. Still, you hoped maybe one day you’d be the one who could break through that, finding something loving underneath. Your crush was all built on a fantasy, but it was a nice fantasy. A nice fantasy, with nice shoulders.
Back to reality.
He at least thought to be here now, which is better than the apathy you were used to. It’s a start.
Closing the door behind him, you turn to walk back to your bed when the world shifts. The dizziness had been coming in waves, this is just another one. You could expect it now. Tensing to hit the ground, you’re engulfed by his athletic arms instead.
“Come in,” you whisper “I really don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Holy shit [y/n], you okay?” he holds you in his arms, looking down at your face.
“Oh, yeah. This has just been happening,” you trail off, hardly aware of what you’re saying. You’re trying to find up from down, only to find every direction your body leads you to is him.
“This has been happening the whole time??” his clenched jaw could easily be mistaken for anger but the waver in his voice gives away his concern. He doesn’t seem to mind you grasping his sweatshirt to right yourself. His body feels warm against you, much warmer than you - making you wonder how he’s managing to be so overdressed right now. Pulling closer, he feels firm under his soft worn hoodie. He smells like laundry detergent and deodorant, with a subtle sweetness. The throbbing in your tight shorts worsens, the quirk-induced ache leaves you feeling empty. You need more of this. More of him.
The dizziness passes and you’re back on your feet. He lets go of you but keeps his arms near as you steady yourself against the wall.
Deep breath. If your friends managed to confess to their crushes today, you can too. Your situation might be a bit different, but he’s not stupid. He knew very well what he was walking into when he showed up. He has to expect this.
Here it goes.
“Bakugo?”
“Yeah? D’ya need somethin?”
“I need your help.”
“Whaddya need?”
“You.”
He nods, understanding. “Yeah. I can do that.”
“Really?” That’s all it took? Holy shit.
“Pshh. What kind of a damned hero would I be if I can’t even fuck a sex quirk out of ya?” the mock confidence would normally make you cringe but he stepped closer and your face is now inches from his. His hands move to the wall behind you, caging you between his arms. Looking down at you, he pauses.
He wants to throw you on the bed. To shove you face first into the mattress and make you scream his name all day for every other girl in the dorms to hear while they’re being awkwardly fumbled by amateurs. He wants to fuck you as hard as he can, so good it’ll ruin anyone else for you. He wants to make everyone jealous of you.
But when he’s right here with you.
When he leans in closer.
His lips barely brush against yours.
Bringing his arms down from the wall, he cups your cheeks. Holding you softly, pulling you in closer but just as sweet. It isn’t the rough boldness you would expect from him, but it was explosive in its own way. Every subtle move of his lips drags up wishful feelings you’d been burying deep inside you for the past three years.
He pulls back for air, his heavy eyelids opening to see you confused at him.
“Oh.” you breathe.
“Did I do somethin wrong?”
“No, I just didn't expect that.”
He rolls his eyes.
“You’re just being… nicer than I expected,” you clarify. Understatement of the fucking year.
“’m never mean to you” he mumbles. Even in the low lighting you can see how hard he’s blushing. To hide his embarrassment, he closes the gap between your lips again - this time with more confidence. Mouthes pressing together, his tongue dancing with yours.
Taking this as an invitation to move forward, your hands embrace his body. Exploring every inch you’d only dreamed of. The soft skin of his neck you’d grown accustomed to staring at sitting behind him in class. The ridges of his back you watch flex under his suit when he’s training. You take off his sweatshirt to run your hands over his arms, his black tank top giving you a better view of the muscles and scars that cover them. Fingers lingering on every curve. You pull your hands from the top of his chest down to his thighs. Your touch veers up his inner leg when his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you.
Grimacing at himself for the pause, he bites his lip to collect his words.
He definitely can’t say he hasn’t thought about doing this with you. He has. Constantly. To a point, he maybe wondered if it was unhealthy. It’s actually the reason he went to the gym this morning, he needed to think of anything else but your ass in the tiny little shorts you were wearing while casually making a cup of coffee. The ones you’re wearing now, pressed up against him.
But having you now? Like this?
“Wait.” His voice is gritty but softer than you’d expect.“What?”
“Things ain’t gonna be weird with us, right?”
“No weirder than ever. Why?”
He looks away momentarily. Not wanting to say it if you hadn’t been thinking the same thing. For his own sake though, he can’t bring himself to leave this unaddressed.
“Cuz I skipped a few steps, I was supposta take you out and stuff first.”
“Well, I’ll let you know to ask me out in advance next time I plan to get hit with a sex quirk.”
“‘m serious. ‘m not fucking this up.”
“You can take me out later.” you smile, his eyes soften looking into yours. Something in his stare makes you melt like ice cream on a summer day. Is this the sweetness you’d always dreamed of?
Feeling too hot, you take off your tank top, throwing it on the ground nearby. His eyes drop and the corner of his mouth creeps into a smile. His hands move to your waist before gliding up to trace the shape of you. He follows your lead - pulling his shirt off and exposing the scars scattered over his toned body.
Granting your own wish, your hands trail down the V along his hips and into his pants. Closer, you need to be closer.
Without thinking you drop to your knees. The pants don’t leave much to the imagination, his outline appearing rock hard already (and he didn’t even get hit with that quirk). Peeling back the fabric, his cock bounces out heavily. It’s massive in a way that would usually scare you but with the audaciousness of a sex quirk taking over your inhibitions, you only want it more. Grasping the soft skin with both hands, you bring the dripping pink tip to your mouth. You have to. It’s so beautiful and you need it. He gasps as your tongue lolls out and you bob your head forward.
One of his hands finds your neck, thumb gently caressing the back of your head; the other planted on his own face leaning over you with his elbow into the wall to steady himself. You watch his abs flex with every heavy breath before your eyes find his.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking good” he groans. You moan at the sound of his voice, sending vibrations through him.
He doesn’t last long. To be honest, he’s a little embarrassed by this but he really had been thinking about you in these shorts all day and didn’t expect this to happen. Less than a minute later, his hips are sputtering while he whimpers “wait, [y/n] gonna cum.”
Perfect.
Even in your throat, you can’t take him all the way in at this angle. Increasing the speed of your hands, you pull your mouth back enough to look up at his face again while still working his sensitive tip. His brows furrow and he bites his lip, exhaling hard while gripping your hair tighter.
“Fuck… cumming” he whines through clenched teeth. His dick gushing in your mouth.
You stare up into his crimson eyes, licking him while letting his load drip through your lips down your chest. The astounded look on his face says he’s into it.
Milking out the last drop, you let him gaze at you while catching his breath. You grab your tank top to wipe your chest and face off but he’s already pulling you up before you can finish. Pressing you back into the wall. His lips find yours as he cups his hand around your cheek.
“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles between kisses, “now it’s my turn.”
Suddenly, his strong hands grip the backs of your thighs. Not removing his lips from yours, he carries you across the room to your bed. Laying you across his lap, he takes the shirt still in your hands and finishes cleaning his cum off of you. Still worked up, every touch he gives is met with your moans. Noticing this, he works his hands around your body. Lightly grazing and squeezing where he pleases. Taking off the shorts he’d been daydreaming about removing all day. You’re soaked through your panties, pressing hard into him as his fingers gently pass over you.
“Wanna sit on my face?” he asks, knowing you’re dying to grind into him any way you can.
Absolutely, you do.
A little too eagerly, you shove him back onto your bed - he doesn’t mind. First, you peel the wet fabric from between your legs. Climbing over him, you position yourself above his face. Your ankles slide under his shoulders, fingers tangling with his above his head to steady yourself. You slam into him, dropping harder than intended (okay, you really want this.) A bit rough, but you know Dynamite can take it. Slightly overwhelmed at your enthusiasm, he groans into you before his wet tongue laps at your folds. Sucking and biting at your clit as you ride his face. His hand follows over yours as you move to grip his blonde hair.
You’re almost there.
KNOCK KNOCK.
“Hey, [y/n] are you okay in there?” Mina’s distinct voice sounds through your door, “we’re worried about you.”
“Yeah, I’m.. uhm. I’m good.” you yell back, trying (and slightly failing) to control your breath.
Glancing down, Bakugo’s eyes light up. Without warning, he shoves his tongue into you. Your world spins.
“Fuckkk” you moan under your breath, gripping his hair harder. He’s enjoying this.
Of course the other hero students would immediately jump back into helping people, but now? There’s no way you’re answering the door right now.
Shoto inquires next, “are you sure, we read more and-”
“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine!” you manage to get out before throwing your face down and exhaling hard into a pillow. You feel your pussy throb as you cream on his tongue. He’s still not slowing down, determined to make you break. His hands now squeezing hard around your thighs, pressing you into him.
“I think someone’s in there,” Mina giggles.
“We should probably give them space, it’s the manly thing to do right?” Kirishima adds.
“Wait, I wanna know who it is!” Sero’s voice chimes in.
How many people are out there??
“In that case,” Momo adds, “[y/n], I made these for you. I’ll leave them out here, okay? Hope you’re being safe!” Something slides under your door but you can’t make out what it is.
You continue to hold your breath, clenching around his relentless tongue.
Finally, their voices trail off down the hallway. Bakugo (you should probably call him Katsuki after that) lessens his grip allowing you to roll onto your bed. Pulling your face away from the drool and bite mark covered pillow, you start to catch your breath. He presses himself up, rubbing his messier than usual hair and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. After a quick kiss on your forehead, his heavy footsteps make their way to your door and back before throwing a few condoms on your bedside table.
Useful. Thanks Creati.
He decides it’s his turn to be on top. With your legs wrapped around his hips, he slowly presses forward. His tip slides into your wetness and you feel yourself stretch around him. Bringing his lips to yours, he kisses you like earlier - soft, passionate. He’s being so sweet you wonder how this is the same person who was just tongue fucking you, trying to get you to scream while all of your friends listened. The same person who grumbled and rushed past you this morning without a hello.
“Ready now?” he grins at you.
Considering his glacial pace, you weren’t really sure when it happened: he bottoms out in you before pausing. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, scratching them through his soft hair. Thoughts of who he was earlier blur away, taking in the feeling of him in you now. He slowly resumes movement.
His tongue inside you felt amazing earlier, but his dick is even better. Hitting every sensitive spot you didn’t even know you had. He sucks your bottom lip into his, gently nipping as he picks up the pace. You’re panting hard, kisses becoming sloppier. He thrusts into you, harder and deeper.
“Fuck Katsuki,” you moan, “gonna cum.”
“Do it. Cum on my dick,” he growls back, slamming harder into you.
Your throbbing cunt pulses around him while you scream in his ear (you'd feel bad but it's not like he can hear that well anyways.) Hands dragging down his back, pulling him in closer to you.
A jolt of pain amplifies your pleasure as his teeth connect with your throat. Biting down while he whimpers into your neck. You feel him pump into you, exploding white into you while you ride out the waves of your own orgasm.
As you both come down, you run your hands over his scared face. Wanting to cling to any moment of softness you can get from him. He closes his eyes, melting into your touch.
“Thanks for your help,” you whisper in his ear.
“Help? Oh. Yeah,” his gravelly voice is soft against your cheek, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, you don’t have to thank me.” He pulls out, leaving you feeling empty again.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks, tying a knot in the condom before tossing it.
You stand up. No dizziness yet. You test your quirk. Almost back to normal.
He picks up another condom from the table, giving himself a few strokes before putting it on.
“Again?” you ask.
“You’re not through the quirk yet, are you?” His red eyes pierce through you and you know there’s no use trying to hide anything from him.
“Almost.”
“I can do better than almost,” he smiles and find yourself pressed into the wall again. His calloused hands running over you in contrast to his smooth lips leaving a trail of small pecks over your neck.
In one fluid motion, he grips the back of your legs, pulling you up while sliding you back onto his dick - this time faster with more ease. You gasp, clutching his shoulders while he roughly thrusts into you.
“ya feel so good on my cock, you’re doing so fucking good,” he chokes out between heavy breaths, "you look so fucking pretty taking me like that."
The pressure in your gut rises every time he pounds into you before spilling out, sending pulses of satisfaction through your whole body. You shove your head into his shoulder, crying his name while he fucks you harder. Toes curling as your heels dig into his back.
Before you can catch your breath, he throws you back on your bed.
Strong hands pull you onto your knees, your back arched, and face finding your pillow again. Grabbing your ass to bring you closer, he penetrates you again. His fast pace resuming, making you whimper into your pillow.
His hands find yours, bringing his elbows to either side of your shoulders. Groaning in your ear “ya sound so fucking pretty, louder for me,” as he plows into you. You scream, feeling yourself pulse around him as your pleasure cascades through you.
“Ka-katsuki” you whine, the sound of his name in your voice sending him over the edge.
With another hard thrust, he stutters his hips into you, exhaling hard. For the third time today, you feel him flex in you, filling the condom. You stop biting your pillowcase to look at him. His bright eyes staring back at you through heavy lids.
He thinks you look so fucked out and pretty on your tear-stained pillow.
“You did so good,” he breathes, “you feel better now?”
“Definitely”
Definitely better but
So.
Fucking.
Exhausted.
A sliver of light slices through your room. Your hands move across the bed but it’s empty. Yesterday feels like a hazy dream. The ache between your legs reminds you it was definitely real. Your neck and hips are sore too, must have fallen asleep at a weird angle. Blinking your eyes open wearily, there’s a note on the pillow next to you.
You know you should clean up more, go to the bathroom down the hallway but you’re so tired you can’t manage to do more than melt into your sheets. The last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep is Katsuki helping you get dressed for bed and wrapping himself around you.
Had to leave early this morning for extra training but let me buy you coffee. Text me when you wake-up and we can meet at that place on the edge of campus.
Katsuki xxx-xxx-xxxx
You check your phone.
[you have 57 new messages and 14 missed calls]
The latest few, from Mina, asking who’s in your room. Quickly, you swipe them away. That’s a long story and you’re not sure how you’ll tell it. You can deal with it later. You text Katsuki.
You [heading out now, meet at the coffee shop?]
Katsuki [see you soon]
Getting ready in a rush, you quickly throw some pants on before brushing your teeth, pulling your hair out of your face, and heading down the stairs.
Walk normal you remind yourself on the way into the common room, trying to look like Katsuki hadn’t spent half of yesterday pounding his massive dick into you. The rest of the class doesn’t know that yet and considering that it’s new, you aren’t really sure if he wants them to know. That probably wouldn’t be the best way for them to find out, anyways.
Ochoco’s voice beams behind you “Hey [y/n], you’re alive! We were so worried about you!”
“Hey Ochoco! Yeah, I’m okay!” you yell back.
Hearing you’re awake, Mina runs from the couch to hug you. “Hey!!!” Her eyes widen. “You had a good night!” she says before giggling “I’ll text you!”
Mineta scoffs at the sight of you before getting far out of your way. Good.
Tsuyu, Iida, and Jiro all stare from the couch, they wave back politely but avoid eye contact.
Denki high-fives you.
Sero also high-fives you before running to the couch and handing Jiro money. Is this about beating up Mineta? They can’t possibly know about anything else.
Deku looks mortified. “Uhm.” He grabs at the collar of his shirt.
Is there something on your sweatshirt? Using the window by the exit as a mirror, you check.
Oh, shit. There’s more than something on your sweatshirt.
Tiredly, you assumed the hoodie you woke up in was yours; this one has a big white skull on the front. Peaking out above that, a massive bite mark covers half your neck. You pull the hood up but it still doesn’t cover it.
You [just looked in the mirror]
You [why didn’t you warn me???]
Katsuki [now everyone knows ur mine 🧡]
[you have 8 new messages]
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TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.
00.1. the first time you saw quinn hughes.
➴ warnings: mentions of shitty family.
➴ word count: 1.08k
➴ author’s note: this has been sitting on my drafts for days because i wasn’t brave enough to post it. but this story is very important to me and i promised myself i’d stop doubting what i write and just go for it. i hope with all my heart u guys like this ♡
౨ৎ
2013, SEPTEMBER.
THE first time you saw Quinn Hughes you were twelve years old.
Your family had just bought the house next to his, a beautiful four bedroom house with lots of space and a beautiful backyard— the perfect house for a family of four.
It was a week after you all settled in, your Dad as a Sports Medicine Physician working for a Hockey Canadian team, the Toronto Maple Leafs— the whole reason why you moved in the first place— your Mom as a Editor-in-Chief for the Fashion magazine, one of Canada's leading fashion publications, featuring content related to fashion, beauty, culture, and modeling and your brother, Peter, in High School as a freshman.
You were sitting on your porch, while you waited for Peter to be back so you could convince him to play football with you. He always said no, but you didn't give up. A few minutes later, Peter got out of your neighbor’s house, alongside another boy, who was slightly shorter than Peter.
You watched as they both walked towards your house, talking about something you couldn’t hear. You remember being so enamored with the sight of the boy that you couldn’t stop fidgeting your hands.
They stopped right in front of you, and while Peter was ready to ignore you and move on with his day— he’d been doing that more and more since he started High School— the other boy stopped and looked right at you.
“You didn’t tell me you have a sister.” The boy said, looking at your brother for a second before turning back at you.
“Oh, yeah,” Peter shrugged. “That’s Madison. She’s ten.”
“I’m eleven,” you corrected, voice soft and quiet.
“Whatever,” he scoffed, grabbing his keys so he could open the front door.
“Can you play with me now?” You asked, getting up from your seat, finally noticing how tall this other boy was. “I have the ball with me already.” You pointed at the ball that sat on the same couch you were also sitting not a minute ago.
“No, Madison. I’m with Quinn now.” Peter said, pointing at the boy beside him, who was now frowning at your brother.
Quinn. That’s a funny name, you remember thinking.
“We can play with her, I don’t mind—” the boy, Quinn, said, already reaching for the ball.
“Nah, bro. She’s annoying as hell. Once you pick that ball up, you won’t be able to let it go for like, three hours.” Peter replied, already opening the door.
You felt yourself tearing up and even though you hated crying in front of your brother, you couldn’t help it. Growing up, he was your best friend. Your hero even, when your parents decided that arguing during dinner, in front of their children, was a nice thing to do and he would make funny faces at you across the table just so you could laugh. When he pretended to yell at the monster under your bed or when he let you paint his nails with your pink nail polish.
But somewhere between turning fifteen and entering High School, he changed. And you hated every inch of this new Peter Carter.
He entered the house, shouting something, probably announcing to your mom that he was home. And you stood there, looking at your hands.
“Next time, I’ll play with you, okay?” Quinn, who was still standing in front of you, hesitated, looking as devastated as ever.
You felt embarrassed and you got out of there as fast as you could, running back inside and nestling yourself between your covers and plushies.
౨ৎ
YOU didn’t think Quinn had meant what he had said the other day, so you were surprised to see that he showed up the next morning, when both of your parents were at work and Peter was asleep in his bedroom upstairs.
“Hey,” he greeted you, stepping on your backyard patio and looking around. “Nice place you got here. We can play for a long time without risking throwing the ball in Mrs. Wright window.”
You giggled, remembering Mrs. Wright's funny wig.
“I’m Quinn Hughes.” He introduced himself after a while.
“I know that,” you whispered, watching as he laughed. “How old are you?”
“I’m thirteen, but I turn fourteen on October 14th,” he said. “You’re eleven, right?”
“Yes. My birthday was in May. I got this ball,” you raised the ball you were holding so he could see it better. It had your name on it. “And I also got new clothes for my plushies.”
“That sounds nice,” he nodded. “I’ll probably get a new stick on my birthday.”
“Why would you need a stick?” You asked, not sure what he could do with a stick. A tree’s stick. At least that’s what you thought a stick was.
Maybe he wants to put it on his fireplace.
“I play Hockey,” he answered and you still didn’t understand. The only thing you knew about Hockey was that it was the reason you and your family moved to Toronto. So it probably wasn’t a good thing. “And I need a new one.”
“Well, if it makes you happy, then I guess it’s fine,” you shrugged, poking your ball. “But that will probably be boring. You should ask for something cooler.”
He laughed again, sitting on the grass beside you. “I’ll think about that. Thank you for your advice.”
You puffed your chest a little, happy to feel useful for once.
That morning, you and Quinn didn’t end up playing; instead, you talked for hours, with you both asking each other questions about literally everything. From what’s your favorite color to what you wanna be when you grow up.
You could feel your heart racing in your chest every time you stared into his blue eyes that sometimes morphed into a light green shade, but you didn’t understand why. Quinn was being nice, he was treating you just like Peter did before you moved to Toronto and it felt so, so nice.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” You asked, right before he left for lunch at his house.
“I think so.” He smiled, quickly patting you on the head. He gave you a short wave before moving back to his home.
And you just stood there, counting the seconds so that maybe tomorrow would come faster, and you’d finally have a friend again.
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