#classroom lab table

[loveofmylouis]

.

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

academic rivals request! viktor x fem!reader, nsfw

request: @4-leafed pls... if u have time pls write a viktor x reader that r both geniuses at the academy but very much toe the line of rivalry and sexual tension...i love competitive smart people that fall in love when the rivalry becomes respect ... and they FREAK IT!!! possibly in a lab ! up to you : 3c

i liked this request so much that i ended up writing a decent-ish one-shot….

update: i wrote a part 2 because it was highly requested! you can read it here :)

rating: explicit

word count: 3,5k

warnings: academic rivals. LOTS of dialogue and bickering. dubious science because i skipped it in school, had to do some basic chemistry revision to write this pornographic catastrophe, so please pat me on the back. rough sex? rough… foreplay, that’s for sure. dirty talk, if you can call bickering that. penetration. reader tries to slap viktor, spits in his mouth and he cums in his pants. normally, i only write vanilla stuff, so i have no idea how it turned out THIS kinky (at least for me okay). not proofread (yet). nsfw under the cut:

—

“How do you take your coffee?”

His voice betrays the feeble intention of civility, fusing that polite inquiry into a hiss—a phonetic torture you didn’t even know could occur before. So much for killing you with kindness. Outstaging quips by desecrating courtesies. 

“I don’t care,” you mutter on autopilot. Can’t let him in on any personal preferences, no matter how insignificant. “Just don’t put arsenic in it.” 

Viktor scoffs. Puts the kettle away and peers at you over his shoulder, all wretchedly complacent. 

“So the rest of the periodic table is welcome, I presume?” 

Viktor. The local Nikola Tesla knock-off. Never a moment of peace with him; and the fierce taste of competition grows coppery in your mouth whenever he’s in your sight—the most handsome trigger of your cheek-biting reflex.

His name is an insult on your lips and you want to taste it. Chew it, crush it with your teeth and spit right out, preferably aiming for those poignant eyes seeking you in every classroom—so eager to light up with objection the second your opinion differs from his. 

Always the first prick to disparage your input. A never-resting generator of all the meticulous ways to denounce your projects. 

“If I may.” 

Sickeningly polite, too. With that lithe finger pointing in the air— so irritatingly comical. He may not, but there isn’t a chance he’ll shut up, now, is there?

And so he’d clear his throat, straightening his tie in that ridiculously solemn fashion. As if stepping on a pedestal to deliver a life-changing speech—not some shallow nitpicking regarding your circuit breakers. All eyes on him while his kept staring only into your soul. Special treatment, if you will. 

You will not.

“Using magnetic frames is careless,” he’d state. With his hand imposingly pointing to the blueprint on your slide. “Copper coils may oxidize. Not to mention the overheating. I would use thermoplastics. They’re significantly more efficient. And heat-resistant.”

Oh please. Like someone here gives a shit about what you’d use. 

But you can’t say that. Not in a room full of professors. And, judging from the countless nods of approval, the shits were, in fact, being given. 

“Too risky,” you oppose. “Thermoplastics often degrade at high temperatures. Electric insulation is not worth the damage of releasing hydrocarbons. I assumed that you’d be aware of that, Viktor. But I suppose that was an omission on my part.” 

More nods of approval, now in your favour. Here it goes again—the ever-lasting spectacle of hatred. Elegant, when entertaining the audience. Anything but discreet, in private. A perpetually drawn game of chess. By repetition, not agreement. Both of you refuse to retreat until checkmate. 

Oh yes, the sentiment was mutual. You and Viktor were notorious for tearing at each other's throats. The things you’d sacrifice to make that more than a mere metaphor, though. To pull him by that neat tie to sweet asphyxiation and hear him rasp for mercy with eyes full of pathetic condemnation. And he dreamed of that, too. His cane was itching to give you a smack—to paint your behind a plum so deep you’ll have troubles sitting without wincing. When it came to making metaphors literal, he’d pick being the pain in your ass.

However, your mentors couldn’t care less about the rivalry. The Collegiate Inventors Competition was coming up. And who could possibly make better candidates than two greatest minds of the engineering department, with academic excellence so accurately neck and neck that both of your names now occupy the honorary first place in every ranking table? 

That’s how you ended up with your sentence—three weeks of after-hours cooperation in the lab with the incorrigible bastard himself, a quarter of which you’ve already wasted on pointless bickering. Well, not without achieving some common grounds. The choice of prototype landed on one of your personal ambitions—a wearable exoskeleton for post-surgery rehabilitation, with plenty of robotics involved. Endorsed by Viktor, for once. The greater good must have swallowed even his dispute. Off to a nice start, if someone were to ask you.

However, the first issues struck early: on the very stage of development. Viktor volunteered for modelling: meaning, the framework would be custom, to accommodate his spine specifically. An object lesson for everyone involved, it would seem—but only in an ideal world. Which, considering what you had at hand (acrimony, bitterness, an entire picky bit of gall), was filtered out by default.

Now, five gruesome days and who’s-even-counting-anymore restarts later, you’re nowhere near close to at least a draft, yet borderline keen on murdering each other. And you’re certain the latter is approaching. He did just contemplate putting arsenic in your cup, after all. 

Viktor stirs the coffee. Watches his reflection smudge in the dark, whirly water, shooting you an askance glance from beneath thick brows when you start stirring yours—the spoon clanking a tad too loud, as if you were doing it on purpose. Which, you undoubtedly were. 

“Stop that,” he groans, almost leaping out of his chair. His heavy, disturbed gaze meets your cheeky simper. “You don’t have to stir it so thoroughly. It’s not like you take it with sugar anyway.”

“Of course.” You shrug. “I don’t drink slop.”

“Oh, I figured. There’s nothing sweet about you, so why would your coffee be any different?”

“There’s plenty of sweetness about me. I simply don’t squander it on entitled pricks.” 

That finally grounds him. And you’re giddy for the way his sturdy hand grips the cup so hard that it almost shatters into his palm, knuckles growing pale enough to match the porcelain. More so when you take a loud, languid sip, feigning innocence. Fully wallowing in his darling, defeated speechlessness. 

“Excuse you,” he mutters. “Entitled?!” 

“So you agree with the ‘prick’ part?” 

“Yes, and I take great pride in it. You may mark me flustered.” 

“Don’t forget to bust in your pants.”

Viktor sneers: chapped lip twitching, scowl growing defensive. Lanky legs untangle as he rises to his feet, towering above you in an angry lean on his cane—long frame transforming into your personal, scrawny menace, pissed exhale sharp and nasal above your head. And you admit to looking small beneath him—all hunched shoulders, weak smile finally tumbling lopsided. 

“Don’t you dare call me entitled,” he demands—and means it. It’s palpable in the way he twists the handle of his cane, the squeaky sound violently scratching your brain. “I sweated blood to achieve my privileges in this establishment.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “So did I, and yet you keep ordering me around as if I’m some braindead apprentice. We’re counterparts, Viktor. You’re supposed to be mindful of my perspective.”

“I never see you being mindful of mine,” he counters.

And, well. You can’t argue with that. 

Your coffee break continued in avoidant silence, but the ambience simply reeked of hostility—stifling enough to make you leave the lab feet first. The deadline’s chokehold besieging your neck wasn’t of any help, either—you had to submit the draft for approval by Sunday. And, so far, you haven’t even agreed on the design plan. 

You shoot Viktor a reluctant glance. Pensive, he sat slouched over his parchment, emitting pure peril. Like his shoulder blades might stab you if you attempt a single tap, belligerently peeking through the thin shirt. You tucked your lip under your teeth, chewing hard, tongue running over every small, neurotic wound inside your mouth. Fruitless negotiations held a special spot amongst your least favourite endeavours, but this conundrum called for a desperate measure.

“Viktor.” You winced at how chocked up it came out. He noticed that, too—because of course he did—turning in his chair to nod at you, ever so shit-eatingly. Lancing eyes scrutinised their way up to your face. What an affront. 

“Yes?” Always chiding in that condescending tone of his. Hissy ‘s’ echoed in the lab, gnawing at your nerves. 

“We have to submit something by the end of this week. Let’s at least decide on the blueprint.” 

“Fine.” He shrugged, returning to his sketch. “We’re going with mine.” 

“No!” You snapped. “We’re coming up with a new one. Together.” 

Viktor hummed in mock consideration. The strand of hair he’s been twirling unraveled, claiming more attention than you deemed him worthy of. Sighing, he lazily reached for your graph, frowning as his eyes started skimming over the scribbles. You made your way to the desk, claiming a spot behind his shoulder. That required a tacit truce. 

“You really want to wield… hydraulic actuators?” He winced, looking up at you. Had your breath hitching at that respectful attempt, the effort prominent in the very way he uttered those words—as if struggling to filter out swear ones. 

“Yes,” you mustered. “For high power.” 

“But they’re so heavy.”  

“Well, what would you use?” 

He chuckled—rich and malicious. Flipped the page and finally averted those curious eyes, arching a bushy brow. 

“I thought no one gave a… crap about what I’d use.” 

Oh, well. It felt nice while it lasted. 

“How did you even—“

“You ought to be more discreet with your vitriol,” he retorted. “I’ll let you know that I’m a decent lip-reader.” 

“Then don’t stare at my mouth next time. What would you use, Viktor?” 

Now that left you both startled. His fingers stilled above the diagram, flexing in disbelief, hollow cheeks hued a puzzled rouge as you almost chomped your tongue off, showing an embarrassed curse back into the depth of your throat. 

“Ahem. Electric motors,” he chanted, pretending to overlook the slip-up. And for once, you were grateful for his tact. 

“I see. Well, er… put that down, please.” 

He instantly complied, fetching a pen. Left you to reflect on your misery to the rhythmic sound of his scrawling, pressing a sweaty palm to his forehead. 

“Right.” He sighed. “What about the power supply?”

“Rechargeable batteries?” You suggested weakly. “Lithium-ion.”

“Very well. Frame?”

“Something durable. Titanium?” 

“Absolutely not,” he scoffed, pushing the notes away. “Why must you always insist on using the heaviest equipment?”

“I don’t know, corrosion resistance?” You muttered back, hovering over him. “Biocompatibility?”

“That’s perfectly manageable with carbon fiber!”

“So it shatters after the tiniest bump? Bravo, Viktor, how ingenious.” 

He lurches forward—rigid breath quivering over yours. Close enough to crush that thick skull with your forehead—if only you ventured, that is. But, alas, you’re not as brave just yet. Some brief eye-stabbing is about all you’re good for. 

“Fine,” he agrees, pulling away. “We’ll use aluminium alloys. Corrosion resistant and easy to machine. No one wins. Does that suffice?” 

“Yes. Now will you finally let me take your measurements for the sketch?”

He doesn’t answer—at least not verbally. Merely stands up and nods to the measuring tape, face still heavily contorted with displeasure. But you don’t oblige just yet. How can you, when Viktor’s fingers suddenly reach for his collar, fumbling with the button? And—oh no—now they’re sliding lower, reiterating once, twice, thrice, until his chest (flushed, but that might just be wishful thinking) is fully peeking out, teasing the smooth scrap of ivory skin. 

“What… are you doing?” You mumble, utterly startled. 

“…Undressing?” He says matter-of-factly, looking up at you so askance as if you’d just asked him if the sky is blue. One more ministration and the shirt is neatly folded next to the parchment—waiting for you to be through with the measurements to be slid back on his bony shoulders. 

“That, I can tell,” you mumble. “Why did you undress?”

Viktor’s gaze daggers into you again. “Don’t tell me you were actually intending to measure me clothed? Can you not comprehend precision?”

“Precision?”

“The prototype is expected to cling to me. I don’t see how that’s achievable with my shirt on— I assumed that was rather obvious.”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“Ah, sweet civility. I even started worrying that other entitled pricks must’ve depleted your decorum, but it seems like you saved some up for me after all. I’m flattered, really—“ 

You don’t even register when it happens.

Next thing you see is Viktor seizing your wrist—sternly yanking your slap off his face before it gets the chance to land there in a flared handprint. Nothing but pure rage and prickliness—right where his short nails are lancing your skin, engraving an ugly bracelet you’ll wear for hours.

Well, maybe there is something else. Something inexplicable, and tremendous—deep in the way your eyes keep drifting south—where his pants sling low on defined hips, and the pretty trail of dark hair runs from navel to waistband—no doubt circling exactly what you manage to make out in the convex slope of his crotch. And you want to slap him for that, too—sonorous, and frenetic. Going in again with full force, but his force always turns out to be fuller—and in an instance he firmly twists your arm, pinning it behind your back—pale face barely five inches away from your flushed one. 

What happens next is beyond any explanations. Later, he’ll blame it on inertia—that stupid urge to maintain the speed, to stay in motion with your messy antics until some external force stops him—a simple need to claim you before the inevitable collision.

But there’s no inertia in escalation. In the way his free hand grabs you by the nape and clashes agape mouths together, teeth bumping hard enough to make you consider booking a dentist appointment later. Not a sign of inertia when you grab him, either—a little clumsy through the sharp pain in your twisted arm—bold fingers raking his scalp in a vengeful tug on his hair. 

And it’s more than a kiss. If anything, it looks like you’re trying to eat him—tongue out and thrusting into his throat so fiercely that he gags on it, almost tearing up. Now you know what sheer desperation sounds like, and it’s grunting against your mouth, suddenly pitching to a pathetic moan when you grab a handful of chestnut hair and pull so hard that his eyes roll back, lean frame shaking under your violent approach. You use that startled momentum to try and pry your arm free, but he still keeps it in place. 

“You’re hurting me!” You hiss, attacking his neck—the very one you always shamefully admitted to finding the sexiest any man can possess, and your teeth roughly pinch at his voice box, coaxing another whine. 

“Good.” He groans with spite. “I hope I am.” 

And yet, he releases your aching arm, trading it for a calculated squeeze of your waist. But the audacity overshadows his little mercy. You instantly use the unrestrained privileges to force a finger into his mouth—astounded at the way he instantly opens up, almost mockingly pliant. More so when you spit on his tongue, sparing no shame—as if trying to rile him up beyond recognition. Grinning, when your saliva dribbles down his chin. 

“Ah.” He huffs, instantly licking up the remnants. “Thank you. Ever so disrespectful.”

“You haven’t earned my respect,” you lie, nudging him towards the chair. Not even bothering to wait until he lands, impatient hands already messing with his belt—so treacherously earnest as you shake, unfastening the buckle, and the bastard chuckles at that, looking down at your eager work. 

“That’s a new low, then,” murmurs coyly, helping you into his lap, heavy head leisurely thrown back. “Sleeping with someone you don’t respect.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Oh yes. You’re about to.” 

You glare at him from under heavy lids, but the anger refuses to linger—not when he stares back full of indignant awe, so clearly basking in your attention. With his cock half-springing out of undone pants, shamelessly twitching against your palm. And not a single breath was hitched to conceal his excitement. 

“Must you always be so insufferable?” You reproach, pushing his hair back—too domestic for your own liking, and yet it doesn’t feel unfitting. Especially when he leans into your hand, welcoming your touch on his sweaty forehead—like he wanted you to feel it fever up with want.

“No.” He shakes his head. “But if it can grant me this, I’ll triple the effort.” 

“What happened to new lows? You don’t have a fraction of respect for me, either.”

“You’re right.” He shrugs. “Fractions could never encapsulate my tribute to you.”

And his hand slipped under your skirt, shakily crawling home—precisely where you’d never confess to needing him a mere minute ago. But the sentiment did a decent job at diluting your rancour. There came no protest when he introduced two long fingers into your underwear, openly gasping at the evident dampness. And you allowed him that with no regrets. Moreover, you helpfully sank yourself knuckle deep, wincing at the brief burn, arms wrapping around his neck as he sweetly looked up, seeking your  permission. Which was instantly found in the pretty moan you spilled into his mouth, slick tongues back at their futile attempts to strangle each other. 

However, your patience was running thin. As much as you wanted to indulge in proper foreplay, whatever masochistic dance he exposed you to had you in agony ever since it started—and it was getting unbearable to ignore the ache, no matter how bad Viktor  craved to postpone the main course. 

Your thighs clenched hard as you crouched above him, fingers wrapping around the hilt to awkwardly line the tip up with your cunt—the slick sound of it slowly sliding down suddenly igniting some tender bashfulness. Like you didn’t just spit in his mouth with a vile smirk. Like he never had to confine you from slapping him in the face. 

That stretch felt different from the one after his fingers. Significantly richer, it made you whine—a pitiful sound reverberating against his skin as you held on tighter and allowed him to bottom out, savouring every little crevice inside you. Raw, yet neither of you seemed to care—that concern was pushed alongside your underwear, then forgotten altogether when your walls clenched him, offering tight bliss. 

“Move,” you demanded, grabbing him by the chin. Viktor rasped something back, but you didn’t catch it—already too busy tongue-fucking his pretty neck, turning your teeth into sharp tools ready to stain it mauve with bites. 

And he complied again. One hand trembled on your hip while the other crawled between your legs—first missing your clit in the chaotic pace of thrusts, then finding it again as it grazed his fingertips. So cheeky when he dared to pinch it, avenging every pull on his hair. Though, he couldn’t gloat in your wince. Not when it clearly was one of the pleasured kind. 

But you didn’t feel like letting him regain composure. You already missed his husky groans—ached to test what else fucking you could make him mutter. Fogy gaze found his face again, softening at the sight—all wet forehead full of concentrated creases and thin lips bitten to bloodless paleness. 

You took over. Let him lean back and rest as you roughly rode him into the chair—and for that he gave you a grateful moan, the insistent thumb toying with your clit never stopping even for an instant. Good with his hands, and he knew it—proudly grinned when you struggled to keep going, taut legs treacherously giving up astride him. 

That didn’t please you in the slightest. You wanted him to be close, too: slid a hand up his chest and angrily tugged at one nipple—chortling when his mouth dropped in a stunned gasp. Bewildered, but he didn’t mind it—amber eyes squeezed shut when his head lolled, and you finally got his lovely moans back—raspier than before, ravenous enough to make your head spin. 

You could already feel it, pulsing somewhere deep within. Blurry vision couldn’t make him out anymore, the lab smudging into a mess of weird shapes—you were about to cum, hard, and Viktor threatened to follow suit any second—his thumb failing to hold steady, and yet the pressure was still there, courtlesly helping you chase that sweet relief. Such a gentleman. 

“Close,” you chanted. “So, so close.” 

“I know,” he answered, choking on a groan. “Me too.” 

And you melted, almost crushing him with your weight. Quivering in a spasm so intense that it had him struggling to keep moving, and yet he was mindful of the risk—used the last fractions of his brain capacity to gently nudge you off his cock and pump it fast and hectic. Cumming in one endlessly thick rope, with a moan so vocal that it reached you even through the layers of foggy, ear-buzzing aftermath. Had you shuddering when you clung off his shoulder, glassy eyes wide with trembling astonishment. You stared at him through the approaching wave of disbelief. 

No signs of regret so far, or maybe it was simply still forming—for now, you silently admired not a snarky bastard, but a pretty, fucked out boy beneath you. 

“Oh, would you look at that.” Viktor chuckled, sheepishly looking down. “I didn’t forget.”

“What?” You mumbled in confusion, following his gaze.

And when it finally caught your attention—sticky and relentlessly staining his pants—you slammed a hand over your mouth, muffling the hysterical laughter. 

“And here I thought I finally fucked your remarkable memory out.”

“Oh, by no means. As, eh… intense as that was, that misery of mine is not going anywhere. However,” he trailed off, his hand skittishly moving towards yours, “sex clearly proved beneficial for our… dynamic.”

You smile, sliding your palm into his warm grasp. 

“Can it ensure us enough civility to win the competition?”

And Viktor scoffs, coyly looking you in the eye. 

“Why should we limit it to just that?” 

[aspenmissing]

ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ/ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ-ɪꜱʜ ||

6776 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴛᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄɪᴇꜱ, ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ (ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ

JAYCE

The Academy halls hummed with quiet energy, the rhythmic murmur of voices mingling with the distant hum of machinery and the occasional metallic clink of tools. Y/N moved purposefully through the corridors, her arms cradling an eclectic collection of blueprints, sketches, and notes. The crisp parchment edges tickled her fingers, and the faint scent of ink and graphite followed her like a familiar companion. As she passed by bustling classrooms and open workspaces, a few students glanced her way, their expressions a mix of awe and curiosity—Y/N Talis, wife of Jayce Talis, the formidable engineer and brilliant mind in her own right, always left an impression.

She turned the final corner leading to Jayce's lab, her heels clicking against the polished floors with a measured precision. Through the large glass window of the door, she spotted him instantly. Jayce’s broad shoulders were hunched slightly as he leaned over his workstation, gesturing animatedly with a spanner in hand. His deep, confident voice carried faintly through the barrier, underscored by his natural charisma. Opposite him stood a young woman, her bright eyes locked on him as though he were the sun, her posture leaning just enough to blur the line between attentive and overly familiar.

The girl’s hand rested lightly on Jayce’s arm, her laughter too airy, her smile too wide. Y/N’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. She recognised the type—the overeager assistant or ambitious student hoping for a little more than professional mentorship. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen someone vying for Jayce’s attention, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. But jealousy wasn’t in her nature, not when she trusted Jayce with everything she had. Instead, she found the situation mildly amusing, like watching a play unfold where the ending was already written.

Shifting the weight of the documents in her arms, Y/N stepped forward, nudging the door open with her hip. The quiet creak of the hinges was enough to break the conversation inside.

“Jayce,” she called, her voice smooth and warm, yet with an undeniable edge of authority that filled the space effortlessly.

Jayce’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice, his expression shifting from focused concentration to unabashed delight. “Y/N!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up like a man seeing the love of his life walk into the room—which, of course, she was. “Perfect timing. I was just talking about the diagrams you’re carrying.”

The young woman stiffened slightly, her hand withdrawing from Jayce’s arm as though burned. Her eyes flickered to Y/N, quickly assessing her presence. Y/N stepped into the lab fully, her movements confident and unhurried, and placed the stack of blueprints and notes onto the table nearest Jayce. She dusted off her hands and turned towards him, her lips curving into a soft, genuine smile.

“Got everything you asked for,” she said casually, though there was an unmistakable tenderness in her tone. Without hesitation, she leaned up on her toes and pressed a deliberate kiss to his lips, her hand brushing his jawline gently.

Jayce responded instantly, his free hand instinctively finding the small of her back. The kiss was brief but unmissable, a silent declaration to anyone watching that Y/N was his and he was hers. When they parted, Jayce’s eyes lingered on her face, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “You’re a lifesaver, love,” he murmured, his tone dripping with affection.

Y/N’s gaze shifted to the girl, who now stood awkwardly by the workstation, her posture tense, her smile faltering. “And who’s this?” Y/N asked, her tone polite but laced with an unspoken firmness that immediately established her dominance in the room. “Do you need something?”

The girl blinked, visibly caught off guard. “Oh, um,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “I was just... asking Mr Talis about some technical details for my project.”

Jayce nodded, his hand still resting on Y/N’s back as he explained. “She’s working on a research proposal,” he said, his tone easy but entirely professional. “Needed a bit of advice.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her expression remaining kind but unwavering. “Well, you’ve come to the right person,” she said with a faint smile, her eyes locking with the girl’s. “Jayce is brilliant at this sort of thing. He loves helping others.”

Her words were friendly enough, but the subtle shift in her posture—standing closer to Jayce, her hand lightly brushing his arm—spoke volumes. She wasn’t just Jayce’s partner in work; she was his partner in life, and she had no intention of letting anyone forget that.

The girl’s smile grew increasingly strained. She quickly began gathering her notes, her movements rushed and clumsy. “Right... Well, thank you for your time, Mr Talis,” she said, her voice pitched slightly higher than before. “I’ll, um, follow up later if I have more questions.” She hesitated for a fraction of a second, her eyes darting between the couple, before practically fleeing the lab. The door clicked shut behind her, the sound echoing faintly in the now-quiet room.

Jayce let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he turned to Y/N. “You handled that like a pro,” he said, his tone filled with admiration.

Y/N shrugged, leaning into his side with a sly smile. “I trust you,” she said simply. “But if someone’s getting touchy, I’m not going to let them think they have a chance.”

He grinned, his hand moving to cup her cheek as he looked down at her. “Good. Because I’m yours and only yours.”

“Damn right you are,” Y/N teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She nudged him playfully before turning back to the stack of blueprints. Unrolling one of them, she scanned the intricate diagrams, her brows furrowing slightly. “Now, let’s get back to work. I don’t have time to fend off your fan club all day.”

Jayce laughed, the rich sound filling the lab. “Deal. But for the record, you’re the only admirer I care about.”

Y/N glanced up at him, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his voice. She reached out, brushing her fingers against his. “Good answer,” she murmured with a smirk before refocusing on the blueprint in her hands.

As they settled into their work, the earlier interruption faded into the background, replaced by the quiet, easy rhythm of their partnership. The hum of the lab surrounded them, but nothing could compare to the unspoken understanding and love that passed between them with every shared glance and touch. Together, they were unstoppable.

VIKTOR

The bustling streets of Piltover's marketplace were alive with chatter, laughter, and the vibrant colours of countless stalls. Merchants called out to passers-by, enticing them with promises of rare spices, glittering trinkets, and the finest textiles in the city. Children darted between legs, their laughter ringing out like bells, while the smell of freshly baked bread and roasted chestnuts wafted through the crisp afternoon air.

Y/N walked beside Viktor, her hand brushing his every so often as they strolled. Her humming was soft, barely audible over the noise of the market, but it was enough for Viktor to catch the tune. He smiled to himself, matching his steps with hers as best he could, his cane tapping lightly against the cobblestones with every measured step.

Viktor didn’t often venture into the crowded streets of Piltover. The chaotic energy of the marketplace wasn’t exactly his domain—he preferred the quiet order of his lab. But with Y/N beside him, her boundless curiosity and infectious excitement made the marketplace feel almost magical.

As they wandered further into the maze of stalls, Y/N’s attention flitted from one display to the next. A vendor showcasing intricately carved wooden figurines caught her eye, then another selling jars of honey so golden they seemed to glow in the sunlight. Without even realising it, she drifted a few steps ahead, her gaze fixed on a stall overflowing with brightly coloured fabrics.

Viktor paused, noticing her absence. He turned his head, searching the crowd until he caught a glimpse of her dark hair weaving through the throng. A fond smile tugged at his lips as he watched her. “Always in her own world,” he murmured, shaking his head affectionately before beginning his careful pursuit.

Y/N, meanwhile, had been drawn to a flower vendor’s stall. The display was stunning—a riot of colours spilling out from buckets and vases, the petals dewy and fragrant. She leaned in to inhale the scent of a bouquet of violets, their delicate purple hues catching the light. The scent was intoxicating, a sweet reminder of open fields and quiet meadows.

“You’ve got a good eye for beauty,” a voice interrupted her reverie. Y/N straightened and turned to find a tall, broad-shouldered man standing beside her, his grin as self-assured as his tone. He gestured toward the violets she’d been admiring. “But they’ve got nothing on you.”

Y/N blinked, caught slightly off guard, but her expression quickly shifted into one of polite friendliness. “Thank you,” she said, her tone light and neutral. ���I was just admiring the flowers.”

The man stepped closer, clearly emboldened. “Maybe I could buy you a bouquet? What’s your favourite? Roses? Daffodils?”

Y/N shook her head gently, trying not to sound curt. “That’s kind of you, but I’m just browsing.”

The man didn’t take the hint. “Oh, come on. A pretty woman like you deserves to be spoiled.” His grin widened, his tone oozing smug confidence, as if he were certain she’d melt under his charm.

Before Y/N could respond, a familiar voice cut through the noise. “Am I interrupting something?”

She turned to see Viktor standing a few paces away, his golden eyes sharp despite the calm expression on his face. He leaned slightly on his cane, his posture steady and self-assured despite his evident limp.

The stranger frowned, his gaze flicking dismissively over Viktor’s figure, lingering on the brace on his leg and the cane in his hand. “No offence, mate,” the man said, his tone dripping with condescension, “but this doesn’t concern you. Why don’t you hobble off and leave the lady to someone who can actually keep up with her?”

Y/N’s polite smile vanished instantly, replaced by a glare that could have frozen the sun. Before she could speak, Viktor stepped closer, his cane clicking against the stones as he approached.

His eyes met hers for a brief moment, and in that glance, they shared an unspoken understanding—a silent agreement that this man wasn’t worth their time.

Viktor turned his attention back to the stranger, his expression calm but resolute. “I would suggest you leave my wife alone,” he said, his tone measured but carrying a quiet authority that demanded respect.

The stranger blinked, momentarily stunned. “Your wife?” he repeated, disbelief written all over his face.

Viktor didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a few coins, and handed them to the flower vendor. He carefully selected a bouquet of violets—the same ones Y/N had been admiring—and held them out to her, his smile softening.

“For you, moje krásná paní manželka,” he said, his voice warm and tinged with a playful emphasis on the words. (My pretty lady wife)

Y/N’s expression melted into one of pure affection. She took the flowers from him, her smile radiant as she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, darling,” she murmured, her voice sweet enough to make the stranger’s ears burn.

Viktor offered the man one final glance—polite but firm. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere important to be.”

Without waiting for a response, he extended his free hand to Y/N, who slipped her fingers through his without hesitation. Together, they turned and walked away, leaving the flustered man standing speechless by the flower stall.

As they rejoined the flow of the marketplace, Y/N gave Viktor’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice soft but touched with gratitude.

Viktor chuckled, a quiet sound that rumbled pleasantly in his chest. “Perhaps not,” he replied, his tone teasing. “But I couldn’t let him think he had a chance, could I?”

She laughed, the sound bright and warm as the sun overhead. “My hero,” she said, her smile playful but her eyes shining with sincerity.

Viktor glanced down at her, his golden eyes brimming with affection. “And you,” he said softly, “are worth every flower in Piltover.”

JAYVIK

The grand hall of the gala glittered with opulence, the lights bouncing off the crystalline chandeliers and polished marble floors. A soft murmur of chatter, laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses filled the space. Y/N stood off to the side with Viktor, her arm looped casually through his. The pair, along with Mel Medarda, were engaged in polite conversation about recent developments in Piltover politics, though the conversation flowed easily to lighter subjects, like the evening’s extravagant décor.

As Mel’s laughter tapered off, her dark eyes drifted past Y/N and Viktor, honing in on a familiar figure across the room. She smirked knowingly and tilted her glass towards the scene. “Your Jayce appears to be quite the centre of attention tonight.”

Y/N and Viktor turned their heads in unison, their gazes falling on Jayce. The tall inventor stood amidst a small group of men and women, all hanging onto his every word. His confidence was magnetic, and it was clear he was enjoying himself, though the crowd seemed just a bit too interested. Hands brushed his arm, fingers lingered on his shoulder, and laughter bubbled up too freely from his admirers.

Viktor hummed, his lips twitching in mild annoyance. “Like moths to a flame,” he remarked dryly, leaning more heavily on his cane.

Y/N sighed, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Honestly, they’re practically swarming him,” she muttered. She took a sip of her champagne, her grip on the glass tightening. “Do they not see the ring on his finger?”

“Do they care?” Viktor countered, raising a brow. He exchanged a glance with Y/N, both of them clearly on the same page. Jayce might be their husband, but that didn’t mean they were above feeling a twinge of jealousy at the scene before them.

Mel chuckled, an elegant, knowing sound that drew their attention back to her. “Now, now,” she teased, “don’t do anything rash. You’ll only make it more amusing for them.” Her sharp eyes gleamed with mischief as she took a slow sip from her glass. “Besides, we wouldn’t want to start a scene, would we?”

Viktor rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Rash? Us? Never,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Y/N let out a quiet laugh but folded her arms across her chest, unable to entirely suppress the spark of annoyance. “Maybe I should go remind him that he’s the one who’s supposed to stay by our sides, not entertain every vulture that flutters by.”

“Oh, but you’re far more captivating when you let him sweat a little,” Mel pointed out with a sly grin. “He’s a smart man—he’ll realise soon enough.”

As if sensing their gazes, Jayce glanced over, his broad smile faltering slightly when he caught the looks Y/N and Viktor were sending his way. His admirers seemed not to notice, but Jayce’s shoulders straightened, and he offered them a sheepish smile.

Y/N smirked, raising her glass towards him in a silent toast. Viktor gave a subtle shake of his head, a small but unmistakable warning. Jayce quickly excused himself from the group, weaving through the crowd to join his partners.

When he finally reached them, Jayce rubbed the back of his neck, his usual confidence a little diminished. “I see you noticed my, uh… predicament.”

Y/N arched a brow. “Predicament? Looked like you were having the time of your life.”

“More like being circled by sharks,” Viktor quipped, though there was no real venom in his tone.

Jayce huffed out a laugh, sliding an arm around both of them. “You know there’s only two people I’d rather spend my time with.”

“Smart answer,” Y/N said, though her tone was laced with affection.

“Very,” Viktor agreed, leaning slightly into Jayce’s side. “But don’t let it happen again.”

Before Jayce could respond, Y/N’s sharp eyes flicked over his shoulder, catching sight of two of his earlier admirers hesitantly making their way towards them. They were still wearing the same overly polite smiles, clearly unwilling to relinquish his attention just yet. Y/N let out a quiet, guttural sound—not quite a growl, but close enough to make Viktor glance at her with an amused expression.

“Oh no,” Viktor murmured under his breath, his lips twitching with humour. “You’re doing the thing again.”

“Let me handle it,” Y/N whispered, her voice dangerously sweet as her eyes tracked the approaching pair. “I’m not in the mood for this nonsense.”

Jayce followed her gaze, his brows knitting together as he realised who was coming. He sighed, stepping slightly in front of his partners in an instinctive gesture of protection. “I’ll—”

“No,” Y/N interrupted firmly, her free hand lightly pressing against his chest. “They’ve had more than enough of your time.”

Mel, observing the exchange, covered her mouth to hide her grin. “I do enjoy seeing you three in action,” she remarked, swirling her champagne. “It’s always so… theatrical.”

Viktor straightened slightly, gripping his cane as if considering stepping in himself. “Let them come,” he said dryly, though his tone held an edge. “I’d like to see how bold they really are.”

As the pair drew closer, Y/N’s glare sharpened into something almost predatory. The intensity of her stare must have registered because they hesitated, exchanged a few murmured words, and quickly retreated back into the crowd.

Jayce let out a relieved laugh, shaking his head. “I didn’t realise I’d married such a formidable pair.”

Y/N smirked, lifting her glass in mock toast. “It’s not formidable—it’s called protecting what’s ours.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Jayce said, his voice full of warmth as he pulled them both closer.

Mel tilted her head, raising her glass to them. “Now, that is how you command a room without saying a word. Bravo.”

VANDER

Y/N was bustling about the dimly lit chaos of The Last Drop, weaving through the crowd with the practised ease of someone who’d worked the bar for years. The tavern was alive with noise: laughter, shouts, clinking glasses, and the occasional thud of a fist meeting a table in emphasis. The air smelled of spilled ale, sweat, and smoke, but Y/N didn’t mind. She thrived in this environment. She always carried herself with an air of calm grace, even amidst the most chaotic nights, her presence grounding to both the regulars and the staff.

Tonight was no different—at least, not at first. But as the hours ticked by, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. A quick glance confirmed it: a table in the corner, occupied by a group of men who’d been lingering far too long over their drinks, their gazes lingering far too long on her.

She ignored them as best she could, continuing to flit between tables, clearing mugs, taking orders, and flashing her polite smile at every lewd comment thrown her way. It wasn’t uncommon in a place like this, but it didn’t make it any less tiresome. She was used to handling herself, though. She always had been.

Eventually, the inevitable happened. She approached the corner table to clear the growing collection of empty mugs. One of the men, a scruffy fellow with a greasy grin, leaned back in his chair and extended his boot, blocking her path with an exaggerated smirk.

"Well, aren’t you a pretty thing," he slurred, his words thick with drink and arrogance. His eyes roamed over her in a way that made her skin crawl. "Didn’t know The Last Drop hired angels to serve the likes of us."

Y/N kept her expression neutral, though her polite smile remained firmly in place. She expertly sidestepped his boot, bending slightly to collect the mugs without missing a beat. “Just doing my job,” she replied smoothly, her tone calm and professional. “What can I get you?”

The man’s companions chuckled, their laughter carrying the kind of oily smugness that sent a flicker of annoyance through her. She didn’t let it show, focusing instead on scribbling down their order. But one of the men leaned forward, his smirk widening as his eyes caught the glint of her wedding ring.

"That ring of yours, love,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “Bet whoever put it there can’t protect you like we could. Someone like you needs a man who can actually handle himself.” He sat back, clearly pleased with his own bravado, as his companions snickered.

Y/N felt a flicker of irritation, but her smile didn’t falter. She was used to comments like this, and she knew how to brush them off without escalating the situation. Still, she opened her mouth to respond, ready to deliver a cutting yet professional retort—when the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

A familiar presence loomed behind her, and a long shadow fell across the table. The men’s chuckles faded as they slowly realised they were no longer the centre of attention. Vander had arrived.

“Is that right?” came his low, gravelly voice, calm but brimming with a quiet menace that sent a chill through the room.

Y/N didn’t even flinch. She glanced over her shoulder, her smile softening slightly at the sight of her husband. Vander stood tall, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his imposing figure radiating authority. His eyes, cold and calculating, were fixed on the men at the table.

The scruffy man who had spoken earlier shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his cocky grin faltering. "Just a bit of fun,” he muttered, his bravado evaporating under Vander’s piercing gaze.

“Funny,” Vander said, his tone deceptively calm as he leaned down slightly, resting a large, calloused hand on Y/N’s lower back. “Because it sounded like you were asking for a different kind of lesson.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and the men exchanged uneasy glances. Y/N, ever composed, placed the tray down on the table with practised ease, her polite smile still firmly in place.

“Well then,” she said cheerfully, her tone light and unconcerned, “your drinks will be out shortly.” Her calm demeanour only seemed to emphasise Vander’s silent warning, and she could feel his hand resting protectively against her back.

Vander straightened, his gaze never leaving the table as he addressed the men one final time. "You’d best remember where you are. And who runs it." His voice dropped lower, almost a growl. "You don’t touch what’s mine."

The men muttered hurried apologies, their confidence thoroughly shattered. They couldn’t look anywhere but their table as Y/N turned to continue her work, Vander following close behind her. When they reached the bar, she glanced up at him with a teasing smile, her expression amused.

“Subtle as ever, aren’t you?” she said softly, reaching for a fresh tray of mugs.

Vander huffed a quiet laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders as he leaned against the bar. His hand brushed hers, a quiet reassurance. “Didn’t like the way they looked at you.”

“I noticed.” She leaned up on her toes, Vander bending down a little, to press a quick kiss to his cheek, her smile warm. “But I’ve got it handled. Besides, I don’t think anyone’s going to try anything now.”

Vander smiled down at her, his hand resting briefly against her cheek before dropping to his side. “Damn right they won’t.”

Despite the earlier tension, the moment between them felt light, easy. Y/N returned to her work with a renewed sense of calm, while Vander lingered near the bar, his protective gaze ensuring no one else even thought about testing their luck.

SILCO

The dim light of Silco's office cast long shadows across the room, the flickering flames of the lamps accentuating his sharp features. He sat at his desk, fingers steepled, eyes narrowed in thought as he spoke with a man from one of the lesser factions in Zaun. Silco's voice was calm, calculated, but there was an edge to it—a clear warning not to waste his time. His presence alone commanded authority, but there was something more palpable in the air. The unspoken understanding that crossing him would be a mistake—one no one would make twice.

And then, there was you.

Leaning languidly against the edge of Silco's desk, you were a vision of confidence, of power masked behind the allure of your smile. Your body was angled just enough to hold the man’s attention, your eyes locked onto his, but always, always dancing over him as if to draw him in. Your lips curled into a sultry smile, soft and inviting, while your fingers traced the smooth surface of the desk, the subtle motion hypnotic, like the flick of a predator’s tail.

You knew exactly what you were doing. Your touch, the slow movements of your hands, they were designed to disarm, to draw attention away from Silco’s calculated threats and promises. The man—poor fool—couldn’t seem to focus on a single word Silco was saying. His eyes darted between you and the dangerous man across the desk, unable to stop himself from being pulled into your orbit. You could practically see his resolve crumbling, his thoughts scrambling as your presence enveloped him.

You leaned forward slightly, close enough to make him tense, your hand brushing lightly across the man’s shoulder. His breath caught, eyes widening as you spoke, your voice a soft, lilting purr that made his chest tighten. "You know," you murmured, the words laced with honeyed temptation, "working with us could benefit you more than you think. I can promise, we make it worth your while."

The man stammered, lost for words as your fingers trailed slowly down the front of his chest. Your touch was delicate but deliberate, each movement designed to toy with him, to make him feel as if he were the only person in the room. His pulse quickened as he tried to compose himself, but you leaned in just enough for your lips to hover close to his ear, the scent of your perfume clouding his mind.

Silco watched all of it, his gaze as cold as steel. His fingers tightened imperceptibly around the edge of his desk, the movement barely noticeable, but his jaw clenched with restraint. He knew exactly what you were doing. You were a black widow—using your beauty, your charm, your body as a weapon, a tool to distract, to ensnare, to get what you wanted. And he couldn't help but admire it, in all its lethal precision. You had always been a master of manipulation, drawing people into your web with ease, your every move calculated to make them underestimate the danger you posed.

It was thrilling, watching you weave your spell, but it was dangerous too. Because while he had seen many fall prey to your charms, seeing your hands on another man, your lips curling with that teasing smile—it stirred something in him that wasn’t just a sharp sense of control, but a possessiveness, an urge to protect what was his, and a frustration that he couldn’t fully contain. It was a feeling that didn’t make sense, one that was far from rational, but it was there nonetheless, simmering beneath the surface.

A flare of jealousy—sharp, immediate—flashed through him.

"Enough," Silco snapped, his voice cutting through the tension like a whip cracking through the air. The man jumped, startled, his eyes shifting between Silco and you, as if trying to gauge his next move. But Silco’s glare was as unforgiving as a blade, and the man was no fool. "Leave. Now."

The man blinked, the fear creeping into his eyes as he quickly gathered himself. His hands fumbled as he straightened his clothes, his voice shaking as he stammered a hasty apology. Silco's gaze, cold and commanding, made it clear there was no room for argument. The man didn’t hesitate; he fled, the door slamming behind him as though it were a final punctuation to his presence in Silco’s domain.

You turned slowly towards Silco, your lips curving into a teasing smile. You could feel the shift in the air, the subtle tension that thickened as you stood before him. Your brow arched, and you tilted your head, a faint, innocent look in your eyes that did little to mask the playfulness beneath. "What?" you asked, your voice lilting, soft as you returned his gaze. "I was just making sure he didn’t get distracted."

Silco’s expression remained unreadable for a moment, but his movements betrayed his inner thoughts. He stood abruptly, stepping around the desk with the calculated grace of a predator, his eyes never leaving yours. He moved with purpose, each step measured, predatory. His presence closed in around you like a tightening noose, and you knew there was no escape from the storm you had stirred.

"What was that, darling?" His voice was low, a growl wrapped in silk, the words heavy with dark intent. He stopped in front of you, his towering presence forcing you to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. "Don’t play coy with me."

You shrugged nonchalantly, not an ounce of fear in your posture, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that made your pulse quicken. "Just helping you seal the deal. He seemed… distracted. I thought a little charm might keep him focused."

He moved suddenly, his hand darting out to grip your chin, not with violence, but with the firm authority that only he could wield. His fingers were like iron around you, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. You couldn’t look away, caught in the heat of his glare, the raw intensity of his gaze burning through you like a brand. "You think I need your… charm to make people listen to me?" His voice was dangerously soft, but the underlying threat was clear.

You smirked, undeterred, a glint of mischief in your eyes. "Of course not. But it doesn’t hurt to have a little insurance, does it?"

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, a slow, deliberate motion that made your breath catch. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer, his body pressing into yours as his breath ghosted over your ear. "And what about me, Y/N?" he whispered, his voice dark, thick with a possessiveness you could feel radiating off him. "Watching you touch him, lean into him like that…" His hand moved to the small of your back, fingers splaying out as though claiming you in front of him, as if the very air around you belonged to him. "Do you enjoy testing my patience?"

Your smirk faltered, just slightly. His jealousy was palpable, raw, and it sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. You’d never seen him so openly possessive. "I didn’t mean anything by it," you murmured, your voice dropping into something more sincere, more vulnerable. "You know that."

His lips brushed against your ear, the feel of his breath sending a tremor through you. "I do," he said, his voice laced with dark satisfaction. "But I can’t stand the sight of another man’s hands near you—or yours on him." His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, and the sharp edges of his anger twisted into something more primal. "I think you need a reminder of who you belong to."

Before you could respond, his lips claimed yours with a hunger that nearly knocked the breath from your lungs. His kiss was fierce, possessive, claiming, as if he wanted to mark you, to make you remember where you belonged. His hands moved over you, gripping your hips tightly, possessively, as though daring the universe itself to try and take you from him. You melted into the kiss, the heat between you both burning bright and consuming.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark, hooded with desire, but beneath that, there was something more—an unspoken command. His voice was a low rasp, filled with a raw edge. "You’re mine, Y/N," he whispered, each word dripping with possessiveness. "And don’t you forget it."

A sly smile crept across your face, despite the heavy weight of his words. You leaned into him, your hands sliding up his chest, fingers tracing the hard lines of his muscles, and your lips brushed against his ear. "How could I, with the way you remind me?"

His smirk returned, but it was sharper, more dangerous. "Good," he growled, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer as though there was no distance he was willing to allow. "Because next time, I won’t be so… patient."

As the air around you thickened with desire, you could feel the undeniable shift in power—you were his, and you always would be. The game had changed. And Silco, in all his quiet, commanding intensity, had reminded you just how much control he had over you, body and soul.

JINX/POWDER

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, casting long shadows over Zaun's rundown streets. The city had always been a place of stark contrasts—grimy and industrial, yet teeming with life, especially in the market district. Y/N sat on an old, weathered bench, legs crossed, her hands resting loosely in her lap as she hummed a soft melody, her gaze distant. The hustle and bustle around her seemed to fade as she focused on the simple pleasure of the moment.

A small cluster of Zaun’s children had gathered around her, forming a loose circle. They were entranced by her calm, collected presence. Her voice, a soft mix of wisdom and warmth, flowed effortlessly as she spoke to them.

“I don’t care if you make mistakes,” she said with a reassuring smile, her eyes flicking between the eager faces of the kids. “We all do. But that’s not what matters. What matters is what you do after. You can keep making the same mistake, or you can learn from it and move forward. What are you gonna do?”

The children’s eyes lit up, hanging on her every word, nodding along as if absorbing each bit of advice like a sponge. Y/N had become their unspoken anchor in this chaotic world, a person they could rely on for more than just survival tips. She gave them hope in a place that had little of it to spare, and they respected her deeply for it. Whether they sought advice on how to stay out of trouble or simply needed someone to listen, Y/N was always there.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden, unmistakable sound of someone shifting through the alleyways, their footsteps quick and light, a telltale sign of someone who wasn’t trying to be discreet. Y/N smiled softly to herself, knowing exactly who it was, even before she looked up.

The familiar rustling of Jinx's footsteps echoed through the air, and sure enough, the moment Y/N’s gaze lifted, she spotted her—her hair a chaotic mess of blue curls, eyes narrowed in a way that meant only one thing: mischief. Jinx’s gaze, however, was fixed firmly on the group of kids gathered around Y/N.

Y/N could practically hear the gears turning in Jinx's head. The older woman could see the sharp lines of irritation appearing across Jinx’s face, her lips curling into an almost predatory smirk. Her eyes—those wild, electric blue eyes—glowed with a certain intensity that made her presence undeniably formidable.

“They’re all over you, huh?” Jinx asked, her voice tinged with an edge of annoyance that only she could mask with that signature grin. “What’s the deal with that? They’re... like... swarming you, and I’m standing here, like, totally ignored.”

Y/N chuckled, her laugh light but full of affection. She turned to meet Jinx’s gaze, watching the younger woman as she crossed her arms over her chest, a sulking pout beginning to form.

“They just look up to me, Jinx,” Y/N said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m the one who’s been around longer. They’re kids; they need someone to look to. You know that.”

But before Y/N could say more, Jinx had already taken a step forward, her posture suddenly rigid with determination. Her eyes locked onto the children, who had begun to slowly back away, sensing her unsettling presence. Without a word, Jinx raised a hand, giving them a slow, deliberate glare. It was the kind of look that could freeze anyone in place, a mixture of warning and threat that sent a chill through the air.

The kids, wide-eyed and stiff with fear, began to scatter. One by one, they scurried away, no longer able to stand their ground against the unpredictable force of Jinx. Y/N shook her head with an exasperated but fond smile.

“Jinx,” she called, her voice light, “you really need to stop scaring them off like that.”

Jinx let out a huff, her arms still crossed, and her pout deepened, lips curving into a sulky frown. “They were getting too close to you,” she muttered, her voice quiet but dripping with possessiveness. “They were... I don’t like it when they crowd you like that.”

Y/N rose from the bench, her movements slow and deliberate as she walked over to Jinx. She stood in front of her for a moment, taking in the conflicted expression on Jinx’s face. She could see the underlying vulnerability beneath the tough exterior, and it made her heart soften.

With a gentle touch, Y/N placed her hands on Jinx’s shoulders, leaning down slightly to meet her gaze. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, her voice soft and affectionate, “you don’t have to worry about them. They don’t want to take me from you. They look up to me because I’ve been here longer. But you…” She paused, her thumb lightly brushing across Jinx’s cheek, “you’ll always be my little troublemaker. The one who keeps me on my toes.”

Jinx's gaze softened, but she still crossed her arms tighter, looking down at her feet. The faintest hint of insecurity flickered in her eyes, but it quickly vanished as she looked back up at Y/N.

“I don’t want them to take you away from me,” Jinx murmured, her voice smaller now, as if admitting something too fragile to say aloud.

Y/N’s heart melted at the vulnerability in her tone. She leaned down even further, resting her forehead against Jinx’s, her hands cupping the younger woman’s face. “You’ll never lose me, Jinx. Ever,” she said softly, her words a promise. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re stuck with me. Whether you like it or not.”

For a brief moment, Jinx seemed unsure, her gaze darting away as if she couldn’t quite believe it. But then she nodded, a tiny, satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright,” she said, the confidence returning to her voice. “But if they try again... I’m scaring them all off, and you can’t stop me.”

Y/N’s laughter bubbled up again, and she wrapped her arms around Jinx in a quick, tender hug. “Deal,” she said, her voice light and teasing. “But you know, you don’t have to protect me from the kids. They’re just trying to learn from me.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, but her grin returned, as wild and carefree as ever. “I know, I know. But I don’t trust anyone near you,” she replied, her tone still playful.

Y/N kissed the top of Jinx’s head affectionately, pulling away with a wide grin. “And that’s exactly why I love you, you little mischief-maker.”

Jinx’s eyes sparkled with something that could only be described as pride, and her grin widened. The earlier jealousy had been replaced with a renewed sense of certainty. She was the one Y/N was always going to be there for, and that knowledge settled deep in her chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jinx said with a teasing roll of her eyes. “Just don’t forget it.”

Y/N chuckled again, her heart swelling with affection for the young woman standing beside her. She had no idea what Zaun would throw at them next, but with Jinx at her side, she knew they could handle whatever came their way.

Side by side, the two of them stood in the fading light, ready to face whatever chaos the streets of Zaun had in store for them.

[galactic-magick]

Maybe in Another Universe, You're Still the Man I Love: Viktor x Reader

Summary: You get sent to the same alternate timeline with Ekko and Heimerdinger, and you find out just how wonderful your life could've been.

Words: 2.1k

Author's Notes: Yeah so that finale sent me into deep grief and writing is the only way I can heal I fear. I hope you enjoy this interpretation of what Viktor could be doing in the alternate timeline.

“Are you alright, darling?”

Your vision comes into focus, though your head is still pounding. You’re extremely nauseous, feeling like your body is not your own as you become aware of the all-too-familiar voice that just spoke to you.

You’re sitting on a desk in an Academy classroom, journals and various papers surrounding you. The sun is shining through the windows, cascading gold onto the other desks and tables. It’s a peaceful, simple sight. Something that feels so wrong for precisely that reason.

“I don’t have another class for a while, you can talk to me,” Viktor says, brushing his fingers against your face. “Care to tell me why you’re looking at me like that?”

You suppose you look like you’ve seen a ghost, which isn’t so far from the truth. You must be dreaming—maybe hallucinating—anything to explain how this isn’t real.

“I…” you start, failing to find the words to say.

-

You storm into the lab, locking your eyes on the empty hexcore cocoon, then at Jayce.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“I don’t know!” Jayce fires back at you, clearly just as distraught as you are. “He woke up and told me he needed to leave me and this place. I have no idea where he went!”

“Why didn’t you follow him?” you scream, your mind spinning. Who knows how the hexcore changed him, he could literally be anywhere.

“He didn’t want me to! What don’t you understand?” Jayce slumps back into his chair, his face in his hands. As soon as he notices a tear fall down your cheek, his tone softens. “Look, I...we both know he’s been different since he started messing with the hexcore. He had told me to destroy it...but I couldn’t. And now he’s even more different. I’m so sorry,”

“Jayce…” you walk towards him. “I’m not blaming you for anything that’s happened. He’s been pushing both of us away for a long time. I guess...I just thought maybe when he woke up he’d love me again like he used to. Did he even ask about me?”

Jayce shakes his head, and your heart sinks even further.

-

“I think I’m dreaming,” you finally say, and Viktor tilts his head. “This...this isn’t real. We’re not like this, we haven’t been like this in a long time. You’re not...what are you here, a professor?”

He cups your face and kisses your forehead, “Darling, I don’t think you’ve been getting enough sleep, you’re talking nonsense,”

“No, no, no,” you jump off the desk and pace around the room. “If this isn’t a dream, then where am I? Some sort of other reality?”

“You mean to say you believe...this is not your world?” Viktor takes in your words intently.

“Well in my world, you fell out of love with me in favor of your work, and then you nearly died and got severely mutated by the hexcore. So yeah, I’d say things are pretty different,”

He raises an eyebrow, “Hex...core?”

“You don’t have that here?”

“Seemingly not,”

You sigh, perching yourself back on the desk, “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“No, I...I have theorized the possibility of alternate universes before, but I never thought I would come face to face with it in my lifetime,” he starts writing on the wall chalkboard. “I see no reason not to believe you. After all, my wife of this universe would probably not be saying these things,”

“We’re married?”

“Of course. Now tell me, what else is different in your universe?”

-

You’ve tried to find him everywhere—going all the secret places the two of you would go in the past, and asking people if they’ve seen him both topside and bottom. There’s no signs, not even a clue. He doesn’t want to be found.

You make your way back to Jayce’s lab, surprised to see Heimerdinger and a young man you don’t recognize with him. They fill you in on their concern about wild runes showing up around the city, and their plan to check on the hexgates. You’re desperate for anything to get your mind off Viktor, so you go along with them.

You’ve never been to the source of the hexgates before, and it’s even more grand than you imagined. One thing could go wrong and the entire thing would explode, but it’s precisely the potential of destruction that makes it all the more fascinating.

That is, until it becomes entirely unpredictable.

Your surroundings change at the blink of an eye—warped visuals and sounds you can’t make out. You scream for the others, but no one can hear.

-

You do your best to describe all the important events and details of your timeline, while Viktor takes notes on the chalkboard and compares what you say to his timeline. He seems particularly interested in his inventions in your timeline, and his partnership with Jayce—who’s no longer alive in his timeline.

“He died in an explosion here at the academy several years ago, it was a tragic accident that also killed a young girl from the undercity. He was a friend and a brilliant mind,” he pauses. “We...actually named our son after him.”

Your eyes widen, overwhelmed by this possibility of what could’ve been, “We have a son?”

“We do. And he’s perfect,” Viktor smiles softly. “You really are from a different time, aren’t you?”

You nod, trying to hold back tears. Why does this reality’s version of you get to be happy? Why does this Viktor get to dodge corruption and the hands of hubris?

Viktor gazes once again on the chalkboard notes, looking for patterns and causes for the differences in your timelines. Would he have reached the same fate if Jayce was still alive? What caused the Undercity to heal and thrive in his timeline but not in yours? Was this hextech you speak of really so destructive?

You are the same person he fell in love with, there’s no doubt in his mind about that, but you’ve been significantly more hurt than the Y/N he knows.

He steps close to you again, wiping the tears from your face and pulling you into him, “I’m so sorry your version of me has taken a different path.”

You sob into his chest, gripping his clothes. He runs his fingers through your hair and rubs your back, soothing you as if you’re his own.

But you’re not his. This isn’t your life.

You pull away, taking a deep breath, “As much as I want to stay here, I can’t keep taking over the consciousness of the me in this world. I need to find the others,”

“I don’t know if it’s possible for you to get back,” he says. “You say you got here through hextech, and that was never invented here.”

“We’ll find a way,” you run to the window, looking out to get a gauge of where you are. Heimerdinger might have landed somewhere here in the Academy too, and Ekko probably went back to the Undercity. But Jayce—if he’s dead in this universe—where would he be?

“Before you go,” Viktor places a hand on your shoulder. “Would you like to meet our son?”

Anxiety washes over you, your body going numb from the prospect. Would it only hurt you more to see a life that you could’ve created?

“Don’t you have more classes to teach, professor?” you smile, trying to turn your nervousness into something lighthearted.

“I’ll cancel for today. It’s about the time you usually pick him up from school anyway,”

He grabs his cane with one hand and takes your hand with the other, posting a quick note on his door as you leave.

-

You sit on a bench outside the elementary school, your heart pounding. This child is going to run out that building any minute, eager to see the mother he’s always known.

But you’re not her. You didn’t carry him, birth him, or raise him. You don’t have the same memories and experiences.

But you must pretend that you do.

You know which one he is immediately. He’s a perfect combination of yours and Viktor’s features, just like you’d imagined. His smile is contagious, and he wastes no time jumping into your arms.

“Look what I made at school today, Mommy!” he puts a crafty contraption in front of your face, a colorful collection of sticks and paper glued together.

“That’s so creative, honey, I love it,” but your attention is solely focused on him, his sweet face glowing with pride and joy.

“Quite the little inventor, aren’t you?” Viktor applauds him. “What else did you learn today?”

“We did reading and spelling. I can spell family now. F-A-M-I-L-E!”

“Close, sweetheart. There’s a ‘Y’ at the end,” you laugh,

“Are you sure about that?” he says, wincing his adorable face in thought. “Whatever. I learned how to spell brother and sister too, but I don’t have any of those. How do I get one of those?”

Viktor chuckles, “I’ll talk about it with your Mommy, how about that?”

“Okay!” he jumps up and starts walking home with the two of you.

-

What if I stayed? You wonder.

You’re playing with your son on the living room floor, with toys mostly made by Viktor himself. The house is small but cozy, a home you wish was really yours. What if you just stay in this dream reality forever?

What if you never find the others? What if there really is no way to get back?

But no, that wouldn’t be fair to the you of this reality. She’s the one who has this life, not you. Besides, Viktor and his son deserve their wife and mother back.

You hear a knock on the door, and Viktor goes to open it.

“Oh, Viktor, it is so good to see you.”

Your head swivels instantly towards the yordle in the entryway, “Heimerdinger! You found me!” you join Viktor at the door, “Where’s Ekko and Jayce?”

“I have not found Jayce as of yet, but I did find Ekko and sent him back to his timeline about a week ago. We found some hextech fragments and were able to use them to jump through time and space.”

“So...I can get home too?”

“As soon as you’re ready. We built the machine in a young girl’s lab in the Undercity,” he looks between you, then Viktor, and finally your son. His attitude of urgency dissipates as he begins to understand. “But...I could not blame you if you want to stay longer.”

Your son Jayce comes running to join you, grabbing onto your leg, “Who’s this guy, Mommy?”

“This is Professor Heimerdinger, he used to work at the Academy,” you pat his head, “Your dad used to be his assistant.”

“I’m sure you already have a brilliant mind, my boy,” Heimerdinger says. “Your parents must be proud.”

Little Jayce giggles.

“Actually, I would very much like to see this new invention you’ve built, Professor,” Viktor speaks up. “I’m now quite intrigued by the prospect of other universes.”

“I have no rule against you observing, Viktor, but I’m sure you understand I must destroy it after we all get back. It is too dangerous to be left here unsupervised,” Heimerdinger’s tone becomes more serious. “I’m sure Y/N has told you of the destruction hextech caused in our universe, especially to you.”

“Of course, Professor. I understand.”

-

You’ve never seen the Undercity look this beautiful.

It seems that the other version of you comes here often, so many people wave to you and little Jayce automatically runs off with some kids his age to play.

You meet a blue-haired young lady named Powder, who helped Heimerdinger and Ekko in their experiments. She looks so familiar to you, but you can’t place where you’ve seen her in your reality.

Heimerdinger explains how it works, and both you and Viktor listen intently. With everything up and running, you could go back this instant.

The pull to go back is strong, like an obligation to return to your rightful place in the universe. But the pull to stay is equally strong, as you gaze into your husband’s beautiful amber eyes that you want to find solace in forever.

“It’s your choice, my love,” Viktor says, as if reading your mind.

“I know I need to go back…” you exhale, tears welling in your eyes once again. “But I don’t know what I’m going back to,”

“I don’t know either,” he caresses your face, “But I do know you are strong in every universe,”

“I’m not,” you shake your head, “Not without you.”

“Don’t say that,” his thumbs smooth across your cheeks.

You nod, turning towards the device.

“Could you…could you kiss me one last time?” you ask.

Viktor wastes no time honoring your request, crashing his lips to yours with lasting passion. He pulls away only as you back into the circle, leaving you with one last affectionate whisper:

“I’m so fortunate to have met another version of you, my love.”

[bitchface24-7]

THE SEDUCTIVE PROFESSOR VIKTOR PT2

synopsis: after completing “The Science Behind Magic: HXT101” with straight As your darling Professor Viktor decides to reward you. After all, you're no longer his student... So you two are no longer breaking any rules. And he can have you in Any. Way. He. Wants.

warnings: age gap (viktor’s gotta be anywhere in his 30s-40s to be a professor, reader is in their 20s (early to late I don’t really care) ), technically still a power imbalance, switch leaning dom!viktor, I tried my best to make this gender-neutral, this isn’t gonna be a full on story, just bullet points I come up with, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. Please save me from this man, why is he invading my every thought and dream? He's making me realize things about myself.

PART 1

Being in higher education is a total pain in the ass.

Having Viktor as your professor made it a million times easier.

Especially since you finished his class as the top student. The look on Viktors face when the charts were released still gives you butterflies to this day.

You're officially a graduate of your STEM program! And with how amazing your grades are, and how many spectacular references you got; you were able to become Viktor’s TA. Allowing for Jayce to become the Lab Professor of “The Science Behind Magic: HXT101” (they still alternate roles. They hate being confined to one aspect of teaching.)

Especially since you're now secretly dating the most sought-after professor the academy has ever had.

You know it’s still frowned upon, a TA dating their superior, but at least it’s not as bad as a student fucking their professor. You're guilty on both counts.

You only have a scheduled class twice a week. Once on Tuesdays in the morning, and once on Thursdays in the afternoon. The rest of the week you're free to do whatever (and whomever) you please. It's mostly built this way so you can have enough time to grade almost a hundred assignments and still have time to relax.

You two have squeezed that schedule dry.

You've had sex in the classroom, in your shared office, in the library, in each others apartments.

You're fucking like rabbits.

You'll never forget when you were honestly, truly, just trying to grade some papers with Viktor in the library and all of a sudden you're getting fondled underneath the table and you're covering your mouth trying not to get caught.

You were rewarded that night with how well you behaved. You made sure you two didn't get caught. How sweet.

But there have been times when you've been bratty; desperately craving Viktor's love and attention.

And you got it, in the form of you getting your throat fucked and ass smacked with Viktors cane. He didn't stop until you had tears streaming down your face and your ass was a beautiful mixture of red, purple, and blue.

(you were too stubborn to use your safe word)

The looks of concern your students shot you as Viktor subtly yet smugly drank his sweetened coffee made your blood boil in both anger and lust.

You could barely sit or move due to the spanking, and you could barely talk due to the pounding your throat received. Making it so Viktor taught the class and you sat there pretty; and incredibly uncomfortable.

Some students shot you pointed looks but you pretended they weren't there.

But… there has been instances where YOU were the dominant one.

Where you sucked his cock under his desk, not caring if colleagues came in to chat. Even if it was the dean.

Where you rode him into the mattress, painting his pretty neck and chest with a smattering of hickies.

Where you sat on his face until your body gave out due to how skilled he is with his fingers and tongue.

You're not sure you've ever orgasmed this much before in your life, but you’re not complaining!

Aside from the mind-blowing sex… dating Viktor is like a dream come true.

He’s caring, sweet, kind, and thoughtful. He's still snarky and sassy with a dry dirty humour but… he's perfect.

And you wouldn't change a damn thing about him.

Even when you two are cuddled up in bed late at night and you're having a deep conversation, and Viktor’s insecurities peek through, you shut that shit down immediately.

You're in awe over the fact Viktor's never been in a proper relationship before.

You make a promise to yourself after learning that. You'll be Viktor's first and last relationship.

Till death do you part baby! You wonder which ring will look best on your ring finger.

(but that's a bit farther into the future. Enjoy your relationship as it is now with its sweetness and crazy freak nasty sex)

[vigilante-3073]

Honey & Lemon

Draco Malfoy x Female Hufflepuff Reader

Summary: Draco Malfoy has always longed to be loved and accepted. As he falls in love with Y/N, a studious young Hufflepuff, he starts to wonder if his happy ending may be closer than he could've expected.

TW: Lovesick Draco, kissing, hand holding, jokes.

Draco Malfoy met Y/N L/N when he was in his third year at Hogwarts. If he had to be completely honest, he didn't know that she existed before she stood in front of him after their Potions class that day.

Y/N had always been a good student but she had a lot of trouble with Potions. Y/N had gone to Professor Snape for help and he sent her to Draco for some tutoring. Draco was at the top of the class and Y/N could learn a lot from him.

"Hello," Y/N said softly, holding her books close to her chest as she stood in front of his lab table.

Draco glanced at Blaise before looking up at the Hufflepuff girl, "Can I help you?" He asked, not bothering to hide his disinterest.

"I've been having some difficulty in this class and Professor Snape recommended that I speak to you about possibly receiving some assistance," She said.

Draco straightened in his seat at the mention of the Professor, "What's your name?" Draco questioned.

"Y/N L/N," She replied.

"Alright, Y/N, bring your supplies to the library after dinner tonight. I'll meet you there," Draco said.

She smiled, "Thank you," Y/N said quickly before making her way out of the classroom.

Draco watched her leave, the smell of her perfume lingering even after she had disappeared out the door. The scent was light and warm with notes of vanilla and citrus.

"You're tutoring Hufflepuffs now, Malfoy?" Blaise questioned with a smirk.

"Shut up," Draco snapped, gathering his supplies.

Draco and Y/N met in the twice a week and she eventually began to get the hang of some potions. She still struggled, but she was much better off than she had been.

Y/N wanted to learn and it frustrated her that she wasn't picking it up like everything else. Draco almost found it humorous, seeing such a sickly sweet person be anything other than delightfully pleasant.

As their potions class approached its final days, Draco found himself disappointed. He had grown quite fond of Y/N during their time together and he wasn't ready to see it end.

They sat in the classroom for their final tutoring session, brewing the last potion that he would assist her with. Y/N was focused on her textbook, following the directions carefully and adding each ingredient to the bubbling cauldron.

She dropped the final item into the liquid, taking a breath as she stirred the potion. A victorious smile appeared on her face as the liquid changed to the desired color, a bright and beautiful green.

"I did it," She said, looking to Draco.

He watched her with a soft smile, "It's like you don't even need me anymore," He teased.

"Of course I need you, silly. I wouldn't have known how to prepare half the ingredients otherwise," Y/N said, sitting down in the chair beside him.

"You would've figured it out. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for," Draco said.

"Thank you... That means a lot," She replied softly.

"I was wondering, since classes are almost over... Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me after exams?" Draco asked.

"Really? You'd want to go with me?" Y/N asked.

"I would... I actually have a bit of crush on you if I'm being honest," Draco said, fidgeting with his quill.

"You do?" She asked, a smile slowly appearing on her face.

"Yeah," He stated.

"I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you, Draco," She replied.

...

From that day forward, Y/N and Draco were inseparable. They continued to study and work on assignments together, he walked her to all of her classes and snuck over to the Hufflepuff table to sit with her during meals.

If the teachers noticed, none of them said anything. Y/N was good for Draco and her companionship had changed him.

Draco was kinder, the vicious jabs he often slung at other students had dwindled and the difference was definitely noticeable. Draco was absolutely smitten, devoting all of his extra time to Y/N.

Y/N made him happy.

Draco had never experienced real happiness in his life and it made him value what Y/N brought to his life so much more. Draco had only ever known pain, violence, disappointment and loss.

His father held him to an incredibly high standard that he had never been able to meet. Draco strived to be the greatest, but always found himself finishing in second or third place.

It made him angry and he chose to lash out at those around him. Y/N exuded warmth, kindness and love every single day, Draco found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Draco considered himself to be blessed when Y/N woke up every morning and chose to spend her time with him. He was lucky to have her by his side and he knew that.

Draco was determined to keep her existence a secret from his father for as long as possible. Draco had talked about Y/N with Narcissa and she was excited to meet the girl, but allowed Draco to decide if and when they would be introduced.

He wanted to keep this one good thing untainted, even if it was just for a little while.

Draco didn't know what he would do if his father ordered him to break up with her. He couldn't do it, not to Y/N. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Y/N had introduced him to her parents briefly when they met at the train station at the end of their third year. They were delighted to meet him, welcoming him with opening arms after everything their daughter had told them.

Draco had never seen Y/N's cheeks go so red and he couldn't help but smile, taking her hand in his. Y/N's mother had even made him a batch of cookies, promising to send more if he enjoyed them.

Her parents were just as warm and kind as Y/N and he fell for her even harder. He felt lucky to be accepted into such a beautiful family, especially since they knew who he was. Or more importantly, who his father was.

People tended to judge him without getting to know him because of who his parents were and he didn't blame them. He hadn't done much to establish a good image for himself, but he was working on it.

Y/N made him want to work on it.

Draco was beginning to think that he had gotten away with keeping Y/N's existence a secret until the start of his fourth year. Lucius insisted on taking Draco to Diagon Alley to shop for his fourth year supplies. Draco kept his head on a swivel, hoping to spot Y/N before she saw him if she was out shopping.

He was embarrassed, but not of her, his father tended to blurt out rude comments that left an awful taste in people's mouths. Draco hoped to avoid the interaction, he didn't want Y/N to endure any of his father's abuse.

"Draco!" Y/N called, he immediately froze and his body tensed.

Y/N made her way through the crowd with her parents following closely behind her. She wrapped her arms around Draco and he quickly returned her embrace. He held her close, breathing in the scent of her perfume to steady himself before letting her go.

"How was your holiday?" Y/N asked with a smile.

"It was good. How was yours?" He questioned.

"Fantastic! I got a lot of new books that I can't wait to share with you," Y/N said.

"Hopefully you got a few on Potions because you are still just awful at that?" Draco teased.

"I did actually. I've been reading up over the break so hopefully I'll be able to teach you something this time around," Y/N replied.

"I look forward to hearing all about it," Draco smiled.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Draco?" Lucius questioned.

Draco's smile fell, "This is my girlfriend, Y/N... Y/N, I'd like you to meet my mother and father," Draco said.

"Nice to finally meet you both, Mister and Missus Malfoy," Y/N greeted.

"You as well, dear, I've heard a lot of good things," Narcissa smiled.

"How long has this been going on?" Lucius asked.

"Since last year, father," Draco admitted.

Lucius' eyes flickered over Y/N's form before looking behind her at her parents, "You should be focusing on your studies, Draco, not gallivanting around with a Hufflepuff," He spat, scowling at the young girl.

Y/N tensed, "We actually met when Professor Snape chose your son to be my tutor in Potions. Respectfully, you can't get any higher than top of the class, Sir" Y/N said.

A tense silence settled between them before Lucius replied, "A Hufflepuff with a backbone... I suppose there's a first time for everything," He stated, walking off and into the next store.

Narcissa sighed, "It was nice to meet you, dear," She said with a smile.

"You too, Ma'am," Y/N replied.

Narcissa introduced herself to Y/N's parents before following her husband into the store.

"Darling, we're just going to head into Flourish and Blotts. You can meet us there in a bit, alright?" Her mother questioned.

"Sounds good, mum," Y/N replied with a smile.

The couple quickly disappeared into the crowd, allowing Draco and Y/N to spend a moment alone.

"I'm so sorry for my father. I knew he'd be like that and I tried to keep him away from you," Draco said, holding her hand in both of his.

"You don't have to apologize, Draco. He's your father and I would've needed to meet him sooner or later," Y/N said.

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that," He nodded.

"Your mum is really nice," Y/N said.

Draco huffed a laugh with a smile, "Yeah, she's been wanting to meet you for a long time," He said.

"How long is a long time?" Y/N asked.

"I wrote to her after our first tutoring session in the library. I really liked you," Draco admitted.

Y/N leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss, his eyes drifted shut and his hands shifted to hold her hips. She pulled away and his eyes fluttered open, leaning his forehead against her's with a soft exhale.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," He said, lifting his hand up and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I feel the same way about you," Y/N smiled.

...

The time for the Triwizard Championship had arrived and the competitors were selected from the Goblet of Fire. Of course, by some random burst of impossibly bad luck, Harry Potter's name flew out of the goblet and into Dumbledore's hand.

Draco attended the events with Y/N by his side, the amount of risk involved with the competition made her nervous. Her nerves just meant that she held on tighter to Draco so he couldn't complain.

Draco was excited when the time came for the Yule Ball, he asked Y/N to be his date the minute it was announced and she couldn't keep the smile off her face for the rest of the day.

Draco offered to pay for her dress, but Y/N brushed him off and assured him that she already had the perfect gown.

Y/N couldn't have been more right.

Draco was absolutely awestruck when he saw her making her way down the stairs on the evening of the Ball. She was wearing a floor-length gown made of lace and silk with her hair done perfectly to match.

Y/N looked like a princess and Draco was completely speechless.

"You look absolutely stunning," He finally managed, taking her hand as she made her way down the staircase. His thumb absent-mindedly ran across her knuckles, unable to tear his eyes away from her form.

"Thank you. You look handsome," Y/N replied.

"I'm glad you think so," He smiled, looping her arm through his and resting his hand over her's on his bicep as they walked into the Great Hall.

It was a wonderful night, they danced for hours before Draco led her away from the crowd, "Is everything okay?" Y/N questioned.

"I love you," Draco stated.

Y/N smiled widely, cupping his cheeks in her hands and kissing him. Draco rested his hands on her waist, holding her close until she pulled away.

"I love you too, Draco," Y/N replied.

They spent the rest of the Ball together before the students began to disperse. Draco walked Y/N back to the Hufflepuff dormitories. Her shoes dangled from her fingers, her other hand holding onto Draco's as they walked through the castle.

Draco's bowtie was untied, hanging loosely around his neck. He glanced behind him when the voices and laughter of other students fell silent.

Draco slowed to a stop, still holding onto his girlfriend's hand, "Hold on for a second," Draco said.

Y/N stopped walking, turning to face him "Is everything alright?" She asked.

"I've been waiting to get you alone all night long," Draco said.

Y/N smiled, "And what did you have in mind now that you have me, Mister Malfoy?" She asked.

"Oh, I don't know, but I certainly won't be keeping a very respectable distance if that's alright with you," Draco said, resting his hands on her hips while backing her into the stone wall.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, "I don't mind at all," She replied.

Draco leaned in, pressing his lips to her's as her hand tangled in his hair, manicured fingernails scratching gently at his scalp.

His arm slid around her waist, large palm pressing against the small of her back and pulling her body closer to himself. His thumb traced over her hip bone, grip tightening as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Y/N moaned softly into the kiss, tugging gently on his hair.

The couple pulled apart quickly as someone cleared their throat. Draco wiped her lipstick from his bottom lip with his thumb as Y/N tried to catch her breath, cheeks flushed and eyes downcast.

"Helping Miss L/N return to her dormitory are you, Mister Malfoy?" Snape questioned.

"Yes, Sir," Draco replied.

"No snogging in the hallways," Snape stated, walking off down the hallway.

Draco burst out laughing as soon as Snape was out of earshot.

Y/N smiled, swatting his chest, "That was not funny, Draco! I'm absolutely mortified," She scolded half-heartedly.

"Of all the people in the world who could have possibly caught us snogging," Draco laughed with a shake of his head. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they continued on their way to the Hufflepuff dormitories.

They arrived at the entrance to her dorm far too soon for Draco's liking. He watched her input the password before the door opened.

"I had a lot of fun tonight, Draco," Y/N said.

"I did too," He nodded.

"I love you," She smiled, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing across her skin gently.

Y/N pulled away and he smiled down at her, "I love you too," He said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Y/N stepped away from him, "Sleep well, Draco," She said softly.

"You too," He replied, watching her step into her dormitory.

The door closed behind her and Draco walked back to the Slytherin dormitory with a smile on his face. He got changed, flopping back onto his bed with a happy sigh.

Draco looked over at his nightstand, there was a picture of him and Y/N. They were talking, she laughed at something he said and he just smiled at her.

It was his absolute favorite picture of them.

The picture made him think about what his life could be like, he could see a future with Y/N and he wanted it more than anything.

Draco wanted Y/N more than anything.

[bugisastranger]

hey babe 🩷 if you have the time or inspiration to write please consider fake dating to lovers with Clark Kent, like a to all the boys I’ve loved before typa situation

a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! sorry it took me a bit to get around to it - i can be a busy busy gal.

"you want me to what?"

clark's voice is unlike anything you'd ever heard from him, his shock nothing less than apparent. you shush him, looking around the hallway to see if anyone's noticed. it's lucky for you that nobody did.

"come on, clark. it's one night! not even! it's like, a few hours at most."

"can't you ask someone else? pete?"

"i don't want to ask pete. he won't be able to sell it."

"and you think i can?" he's exasperated, leaning closer to you as if he's suddenly aware how many people could overhear this conversation. "i'm a horrible liar."

"please? you know how my family can be," you whisper, looking up at clark. he sighs, hanging his head. he does know how your family can be—overbearing—which is exactly why he's hesitant. but you're you, so how can he actually say no?

"okay. okay, fine."

"really?" you ask, nearly jumping out of your skin. your arms slide around clark's neck as you excitedly let out a few small 'thank you's. clark's still frozen in place from his decision, but forces one of his arms to slide awkwardly around your hip. he's in for it, isn't he?

the ringing of the school bell pulls the two of you apart, and you quickly shut your locker, making your way towards your first class. clark keeps his place beside you. "so, what does this mean, exactly? what do you want from me?"

"jeez, clark, that sounds like i'm holding you hostage. it's just a favor."

"yeah, yeah. whatever. what do you need me to do?" he asks, taking his seat next to you at the lab table.

"i don't know. whatever feels natural," you say, bending to the side to pull your textbook out of your bag, a gesture which clark never would've took a second glance at. but today, with your hair falling in front of your face (and then you pushing it away), something's different. he doesn't even notice he forgot to say something in response to you until you glance back at him, confused at his silence.

"uh—" he clears his throat. "how am i supposed to know what's natural? we've never dated before." oops. overly sarcastic.

"have you never even considered it?"

"what?" clark's baffled by your question, but you ask it so casually, like it's not taking the ground out from beneath his feet. it's not that he hasn't considered it. it's that he has. he knows all too well how he wants to walk with his arm around your shoulders, how he wants to have you cuddle into his side as you watch a movie, how he wants to absolutely spoil you—as if he has the money for that anyway. "i—"

"you know what? forget i said that. i don't wanna know," you mutter. "just, like, pretend like you're obsessed with me, i don't know."

"hey, lovebirds! you done?" the teacher calls from the front of the classroom.

as clark starts, "oh, we're n—"

you say, "sorry! we're sorry." and then the both of you, red in your faces, stay silent. you barely even move, feeling reprimanded, even though your teacher was barely offended.

when the teacher lets the class work in pairs, clark decides to use the time to talk to you instead. he could do the work later. "can you just give me an idea of what the night's going to look like, at least?"

you take a quick glance at the teacher, making sure her eyes aren't on you and clark. "you'll come over and i'll introduce you as my boyfriend. my parents won't be suspicious, because i'll start bringing it up today. and they won't be too intimidating. my uncle might, but they'll love you. there's something about you that screams 'good guy' and they'll pick up on it." you twirl the pen in your hands. "it'll be fine. you have nothing to worry about, really." clark feels his heart skip a beat when you place your hand on his bicep—which is supposed to be a comforting gesture. what's happening to him? you've touched him before. plenty of times, actually. this shouldn't mean a thing.

a few days later, and clark is taking deep breaths as he walks down the path to your front door. before he can even meet the porch, you're outside, greeting him. he nearly stops in his tracks when he sees you, your hair half up, half down. the dress you're wearing is baby pink, and something about this sight—seeing you so... girly does something to him, even if he won't admit it.

"hi," you say, breaking the awkward silence. "ignore the dress, i'm trying something a little different."

"no, it's good. you look great," he forces. and then, he remembers he's supposed to be your boyfriend, he's allowed to flirt with you. "you look really pretty." he swears he sees your expression change, like you're nervous. it makes his hand tense, and he nearly crushes the stems of the flowers he forgot he's holding. "oh, these are for you."

"thank you. this is..."

"good enough, i hope?"

"better. i knew you wouldn't let me down."

"can't leave my girlfriend hanging, can i?" oh. oh. that gets you. and clark knows it, too.

"uh—" you start, looking at him with what can only be described as a mix of shock and infatuation. "we should go inside."

and as you're walking towards your front door—"i should call you something, shouldn't i?"

"what?" you turn back around, facing him.

"honey," he tries. "no, too mature. babe?" clark watches your reactions carefully, and even though you seem affected, 'babe' doesn't have the punch he was hoping for. "sweetheart?" bingo.

"sweetheart is fine," you mutter, trying to ignore the way your face heats up.

"okay, sweetheart. you ready for this?" you nod, walking towards the door with clark at your side. "what about princess?"

"too much. you can't call me that in front of my family."

"but i can call you that when we're alone?"

"clark!"

"it's just a question, sweetheart," clark teases, fighting back a chuckle. he could do this the rest of his life.

part two coming soon?!

[jyeoulzhu]

can i request winter as a student council president and she always picks/target on reader to give them a detention or a warning over a smallest things like crooked tie? idk ideas from c.ai lol. thank you!

snoopy

summary . y/n keeps getting detention from student council pres winter over the dumbest shit, but turns out she just likes them.

pairing . kim minjeong x gender neutral reader

y/n had exactly three minutes of peace every morning before the student council president descended from the heavens (or, more accurately, the third-floor council room) to ruin their day.

three minutes. that’s all they got before—

“your tie is crooked.”

y/n closed their locker door to see none other than kim minjeong, aka winter, aka the demon personally assigned to make their life hell. she was standing there with her arms crossed, radiating authority and judgment, like a CEO about to fire an employee for breathing wrong.

before y/n could even protest, a neatly folded detention slip was slammed into their chest.

“bro.” y/n blinked. “are you serious right now?”

winter gave them a once-over, eyes filled with the usual disgust she reserved just for them. “rules are rules.”

y/n glanced down. their tie was, at most, 0.0000001 centimeters off-center.

“you’re joking.”

“i don’t joke.” winter clicked her pen, which was basically the school equivalent of cocking a gun.

y/n groaned, snatched the slip, and dramatically shoved it into their pocket. “you just like giving me detentions, don’t you?”

winter tilted her head like a malicious Victorian cat. “if you followed the rules, you wouldn’t be my problem.”

“oh yeah? what about last time? when you wrote me up because my shoelace was untied?”

“someone could have tripped over it.”

“and the time you gave me a warning for having my hands in my pockets?”

“poor posture. reflects badly on the school.”

“AND WHEN YOU THREATENED TO SUSPEND ME FOR BREATHING TOO LOUDLY!?”

winter blinked. “i don’t recall that one.”

y/n narrowed their eyes. “because i made it up.”

winter’s lips twitched.

SHE ALMOST SMILED.

ALMOST.

y/n’s brain short-circuited. had they just… witnessed a human emotion from the student council terminator??? no. impossible. she was built in a lab to maintain order and hand out unnecessary punishments.

winter smoothed out her blazer. “fix your tie before the next time i see you,” she said before disappearing like a well-dressed cryptid.

-

naturally, y/n did not fix their tie.

so when lunch rolled around, winter materialized at their table before they could even take a bite of their food.

she didn’t even say anything. just placed another detention slip in front of them like she was serving them divorce papers.

y/n slammed their hands on the table. “YOU’RE OBSESSED WITH ME.”

winter crossed her arms. “don’t flatter yourself.”

“then why am i the only one you terrorize? huh? why not mark or jeno? they break rules all the time!”

winter shrugged. “they’re not my problem.”

“but i am?”

winter smirked. “unfortunately.”

y/n blacked out for a second.

did minjeong just smirk at them?

no. no, no, no. that was illegal.

they squinted at her. “are you enjoying this?”

winter raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “you’ll never know.”

then she turned and walked away, hair bouncing with every step like she was in a shampoo commercial.

y/n stared after her.

there was no way.

no way in hell.

…but did minjeong like them???

-

detention.

y/n sat at the back of the empty classroom, arms crossed, waiting for their punishment.

the door creaked open, and in walked winter—alone.

y/n’s jaw dropped. “YOU’RE MY DETENTION SUPERVISOR!?”

winter set her clipboard down. “no. i’m here because i also have detention.”

y/n blinked. “for what? excessive micromanaging? tax fraud?”

winter gave them a look. “the teacher said i was ‘abusing my power.’”

y/n grinned. evil. “so even they think you have a personal vendetta against me.”

winter sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “just shut up and start cleaning.”

y/n smirked, picking up a broom. “yes, ma’am.”

for the next twenty minutes, they swept the classroom in silence—well, almost silence, if you ignored y/n humming the mario kart theme every time winter walked past them.

finally, as y/n wiped down the whiteboard, they caught winter staring at them.

like actually staring.

“what,” y/n said, raising an eyebrow.

winter looked away, suddenly interested in the floor. “nothing.”

y/n leaned against the desk. “you think i’m hot, don’t you?”

winter scoffed. “absolutely not.”

“you totally do.”

“shut up.”

“just admit it.”

“i’m giving you another detention.”

y/n laughed. “you literally can’t, you just got stripped of your power.”

winter gritted her teeth.

y/n took a step closer. “sooo,” they dragged out. “if you don’t actually hate me, then why do you keep picking on me?”

winter didn’t say anything. just glared at the floor.

y/n’s smugness disappeared.

“…wait.” they blinked. “do you actually like me?”

silence.

more silence.

and then—

”…shut up.”

y/n almost dropped dead.

THERE WAS NO WAY.

“OH MY GOD.” they gasped. “YOU DO.”

“no, i don’t.”

“YOU TOTALLY DO.”

“i literally don’t.”

y/n took another step forward, eyes gleaming. “so if i asked you out right now, you’d say no?”

winter looked like she was going through all seven stages of grief.

“…hypothetically,” she muttered. “i would say yes.”

y/n exploded internally.

but on the outside, they just grinned.

“cool,” they said, picking up their bag. “then i’ll pick you up after school.”

winter’s face was so red she looked like a walking fire hazard.

“SHUT UP.”

y/n just laughed.

as y/n walked toward the door, they couldn’t resist.

right next to the light switch, glowing in all its forbidden glory, was the big red emergency button.

the one that, when pressed, would blare an ungodly alarm across the entire school.

y/n stared at it.

it stared back.

and in that moment, their intrusive thoughts won.

click.

the room was immediately filled with the most ear-splitting, soul-crushing, brain-cell-destroying siren known to mankind.

winter whipped around so fast she could’ve gotten whiplash.

“ARE YOU INSANE?!” she shouted over the blaring noise.

y/n, tears in their eyes from laughter, bolted out the door. “SEE YOU AT OUR DATE, BABE!!!”

they made it five steps before—

“Y/N.”

y/n froze.

slowly, they turned around.

winter stood in the doorway, a fresh detention slip in hand, looking like she was about to end their bloodline.

“another. fucking. detention.”

y/n just grinned.

“worth it.”

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 7: Virginity

Fboy!Steve Harrington x Virgin!Chubby!Reader

Summary: Steve never paid you much attention until the day he found your laptop open with your rice purity test results on full display.

Warnings: 18+ smut, mentions of virginity loss, kissing, awkward!reader, pervy!steve, corruption/innocence kink

It’s criminal that the chemistry teacher paired you with thee Steve Harrington. King Steve. How on earth are you supposed to pay attention to the lesson when all you want to do is swim in his golden brown hair?

You sigh dreamily, chin resting on your hand as you studied him. God, he never looks your way. You’d give anything if he’d just acknowledge you. Anything.

He glances your way and you’re so taken aback that you’re scrambling to adjust your position. Seconds after, you ponder on whether you’d see him move his lips.

“Huh?” You say, snapping out of your daydreams.

He lets out a quick laugh then a lingering smile. “I asked if you could get us a beaker up front. I would get it but I’m so sore from basketball practice, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Oh, of course. No problem. Thank you for asking me.” You say, cringing at how lame you sound once you turn away.

Steve purposefully sent you away for a chance to look over your computer screen. Today, practically everyone has been sending each other their purity tests results as some new trend amongst your peers. You knew you haven’t done much but to see how high your score was really put it into perspective that if you were olive oil, you’d be extra virgin.

You return to your seat, unaware of his snooping at first until you seen just how broadcasted your screen was.

“Y-you didn’t happen to see anything weird on my screen, d-did you?” You ask, heart racing.

“Wouldn’t say weird. More like…intriguing.” He smirks.

“Oh, god.” You groan, head resting on the lab table.

“So is it true? You a virgin?” He asks with contained excitement.

“Yeah,” You whisper, raising your head once again to meet his darkening eyes. “Is it hard to believe?”

“A little,” He ogles you, eyes traveling up and down your body. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to be between those thighs?”

You’re sooo confused. Only a minute ago, you didn’t exist to him. Now he’s unashamedly flirting with you.

Steve brings a foot under your chair, sliding you a little closer to him. He leans in to whisper, his breath tickling your sensitive throat.

“You’ve never had that cherry popped?” His smile grew wider.

“I already said yes,” Your face heats up, cupping your cheeks to hide yourself. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed at all for being a virgin. It’s a really neat thing that you’re one.” He says softly.

“Why?”

He looks around the classroom making sure no one’s eavesdropping before he whispers, “Because it means I get to be the one who claims it,” He lowers his lips to your ears. “You want that, don’t you?”

You nod.

“I’ll need a verbal ‘yes’, princess.” He demands.

“Yes, I want you to take my virginity.” You breathe out.

“Good girl. I’ll text you when to come over tonight.” He says, rubbing a hand on your upper thigh before turning to pay attention to the lesson as if nothing had ever happened.

Tonight?! So soon?

You spend the rest of your day, butterflies in your stomach as you count down the hours until you’ll be getting dicked down by King Steve.

Six hours went to four hours and four went to three until finally the hour arrived. You followed the address he’d given you, recognizing it was some old cabin home. He’s standing outside waiting in a t-shirt and gray sweatpants that hang low. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he isn’t wearing any underwear, the outline of his rather large member is damning.

You take one good glance at yourself in the mirror happy with the casual yet sexy look you were going for before you exit your car. He walks up to you, throwing his hands around you and taking in your scent.

“You smell nice.” He says, hardness pressing against your belly and your eyes widen as you try not to pass out. Steve Harrington is hugging you!

“T-thank you. I-it’s my mom’s perfume,” You mentally facepalm. “I-I mean she bought it for me but it’s not like her signature scent or anything like that. That would be weird.”

He laughs, taking your hand in his. “You’re adorable.”

You feel him tug you away, guiding you towards the front entrance of the home and your stomach lurches.

“Is this your place?” You ask with a nervous laugh, trying and failing at not sounding judgmental.

“Nah, vacation home for my uncle who lives in New York,” He explains. “Don’t worry. We’re all alone. So scream all you want to, no one’ll hear you.”

You remember the rumor going around that Steve takes his lovers to this remote cabinet specifically for this reason. You swallow the hard lump in your throat as the door closes behind you.

There’s no going back.

“Could I have something to drink?” You ask trying to keep yourself from hyperventilating. “Alcohol, preferably.”

“I want your mind clear when I’m in those guts, babe,” He helps you over to the couch, encouraging you to sit as he makes his way to the kitchen. “I can get you some water, though.”

“Kay.” You say, fiddling with your skirt. It’s now or never. You needed to put on a brave face, you will not be missing out on this Greek god’s dick. You begin to pull off your sweater, struggling with it as you hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

“What are you doing there, angel?” He asks and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh, ya know…thought I’d take this off since it’s getting all nice and hot in here.”

“I agree,” He says suggestively, placing the cup on the coffee table to help you remove your sweater. Once it pops off, you stumble a little causing him to wrap an arm around your waist to balance you. “That better?”

“Mhm.” You reply, forcing yourself to look in his eyes.

He lowers his lips to yours and kisses you. You let out a surprised gasp against his lips before you follow his lead. You can tell you’re sloppy at it because when he shoves his tongue into your mouth it’s heavenly but when you do it, it’s all slobbery.

But even when you’re doing wrong, it feels so right because he’s moaning into it and as long as he’s doing that then you’ll consider it a win. His hands cradle your head, deepening the kiss. You can hardly breathe nor do you care to, clutching onto his shirt.

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against your head. “I usually do foreplay but I wanna feel your tight little pussy squeezing around me so badly.”

That’s the second rumor you remembered about him. He usually says that very line to whoever he fucks. Only girl to ever have been treated to foreplay was his ex, Nancy. It hurts that you get a front row seat to the truth of the rumors. I guess that’s why they say never meet your heroes or, in this case, never have a one night stand with your crush.

“Can I please?” He pleads, hazel eyes big and wet as if it physically hurts not being inside you and judging by the way he jumps and throbs in his pants you’d say it’s a possibility.

“Yes, you can fuck me. Please fuck me.” You say, kissing him once more and he whines against your lips. He loves hearing how much you need him.

Laying you on your back onto the couch, he quickly removes your clothes off your body tossing your shirt, bra, and skirt to the floor but leaving you in just your white thong. He groans at the darkened wet patch, hooking his finger underneath to pull to the side.

“Look at that pretty pussy,” He praises. “You tellin’ me no one’s had the chance to see it let alone be inside it.”

“Yeah, no one. Guess I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Fuuuck, baby, don’t talk like that or I might fill you up with my cum.” He says.

That’s another of those little rumors. He threatens to cum inside you. You should be revolted by this but you find yourself canting your hips upward in anticipation.

“You want me, babygirl? I’ll give it to you.” He pulls his sweatpants down just below his bent knees and a horse cock comes out springing and swinging.

You froze, mouth dropping. Oh hell no. You need to get out of here. The rumors do no justice at all to the sheer size of him. He’ll tear you apart!

Panic sets in as he hooks the back of your knees into the crook of his arms, positioning himself between your thick thighs.

“O-on second thought, I think I’ve found God and he tells me that maybe I shouldn’t…” You trail off when you feel his warm cock rubbing between your clothed folds. Oh, now he surely needs to be inside you. You’ll take the pain.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks and you whine in agreement. “Then, pull those panties to the side and let me in.”

[katnipp]

operation: mutual pinning— jeong yoonchae

genre: FLUFFF

synopsis: y/n and yoonchae are two hopelessly awkward high school losers who’ve been silently crushing on each other for way too long. When their friend groups get tired of the mutual pining, they join forces to push these two disasters together

warnings: LOSERS IN LOVEEE, they’re both very awkward, mentions of fighting (AS A JOKE), that’s it!!

—

y/n had liked jeong yoonchae since tenth grade.

it wasn’t a loud crush. no butterflies-in-stomach, rain-pouring-down, romcom-moment nonsense. it was quieter. dumber.

it started during biology when yoonchae dropped her pencil, leaned over to pick it up, and somehow headbutted the lab table.

she sat up like nothing happened and went, “gravity’s fake anyway.”

y/n fell in love on the spot. she just didn’t realize it until later.

because what do you even call that feeling? the one where your heart stutters every time someone laughs? or when you get disappointed they’re not in class that day even though you’re not technically friends?

but it grew. slowly. ridiculously.

every time yoonchae fumbled with her locker combo, or added yet another frog keychain to her backpack, or laughed too hard at a dumb joke—y/n fell a little harder.

but she didn’t say anything.

because what if it wasn’t mutual?

what if she was just the weird girl who stared too long?

what y/n didn’t know was that yoonchae was just as gone. maybe worse.

yoonchae had a system. she kept a mental note of y/n’s class schedule. she purposely “accidentally” walked by the library on thursdays just to catch a glimpse of her doing homework. she had rehearsed a dozen conversations in her head and then choked every time y/n actually spoke to her.

once, y/n asked her if she liked her new phone charm

yoonchae meant to say “It’s cute.”

she said, “you’re cute.”

then pretended to cough for five full seconds and ran away.

⸻

their friends? absolutely over it.

on y/’s side:

woonhak, leeseo, moka, and eunchae

on yoonchae’s side:

megan, lara, sophia, dani, and manon.

after a long semester of watching these two losers dance around each other like they were stuck in a dumb romance novel, the groups met in secret.

in the science room.

during lunch.

behind a huge whiteboard.

there were diagrams.

there was a powerpoint.

there was even a group chat called:

“operation: mutual pinning!”

moka: if they don’t kiss by the end of the year we all beat up woonhak — 11:45am

woonhak: bitch?? tf did i do😒 —11:46am

sophia: nobody is fighting anyone. —11:46am

⸻

phase one: the setup.

biology class. partner project. 20% of their grade.

y/n stared at the paper like it had betrayed her.

“yoonchae?” she whispered to herself.

next to her, yoonchae read the same list and went pale.

“y/n?” she said aloud.

“yeah,” y/n said, trying not to pass out.

yoonchae blinked. “we’re partners?”

“looks like it.”

yoonchae nodded. “cool. love… cells. me too. love cells. science. data. totally. yeah.”

y/n smiled. “that’s a lot of words to say ‘hi.’”

yoonchae panicked and dropped her pen. “gosh. i’m so sorry. my mind just stopped working for a second.”

y/n picked it up for her. their hands touched. they both jumped like they’d been electrocuted.

the entire back row of the classroom (all their friends) silently high-fived each other.

⸻

phase two: the bonding trap.

a “spontaneous” movie night at megan’s apartment. blankets, snacks, drinks, and totally unplanned seating arrangements.

y/n and yoonchae were placed side by side.

the popcorn bowl was “conveniently” between them.

every time one of them reached for it, their fingers grazed.

every time they did, both of them looked like they’d been caught shoplifting.

halfway through the movie, moka stood up.

“truth or dare.”

leeseo immediately joined in. “yoonchae, you’re up.”

yoonchae blinked. “wait what?”

“truth,” said leeseo, smiling like a villain.

yoonchae hesitated. “alright.”

“who’s your crush?”

absolute silence.

yoonchae looked around. everyone was watching. even woonhak had paused his snack. megan was literally holding a pen and notebook like she was ready to record history.

yoonchae swallowed. “um. i guess she’s funny. kind of awkward. really smart but like, lowkey about it. she wears this jacket all the time like her life depends on it, her smile makes me forget how words work.”

y/n blinked. “that’s very detailed.”

yoonchae flushed. “yeah. sorry. i think about her a lot.”

woonhak very calmly said, “i’m going to open a window. it’s getting very tensed in here.”

⸻

phase three: just kiss already.

thirty minutes later. y/n’s turn.

moka grinned. “dare.”

y/n raised an eyebrow. “okay, sure. what’s the dare?”

moka, innocent: “kiss your crush.”

everyone froze.

y/n turned slowly. yoonchae was already staring at her, eyes wide, cheeks red.

“can i?” y/n whispered.

yoonchae nodded so fast her glasses nearly flew off of her head.

the kiss was soft. a little quick. definitely not movie-scene dramatic.

but it was real.

and afterward, they sat there smiling like idiots while their friends absolutely lost their minds in the background.

⸻

y/n offered to walk her out.

they stood by yoonchae’s bike, awkward and glowing.

“i’m still kind of in shock,” yoonchae said.

“yeah?”

“yeah. i didn’t think this would actually happen.”

y/n smiled. “you really thought i didn’t like you?”

“i tripped in front of you twice. i told you gravity was fake. i once said ‘you smell like pencils’ and then blacked out.”

“pencils are comforting,” y/n said, trying not to laugh.

yoonchae looked up at her, biting back a smile. “you’re comforting.”

y/n blinked. “okay. that was dangerously smooth coming from you.”

“i’ve been practicing,” yoonchae admitted.

y/n leaned in and kissed her again, softer this time.

“you’re ridiculous,” she said.

yoonchae grinned. “your ridiculous.”

“that’s not even grammatically correct.”

“don’t care.”

⸻

operation: mutual pinning, 12:08am

eunchae: WE WON

moka: should we delete the group chat now

woonhak: absolutely not. this is history.

manon: someone make a scrapbook

sophia: i’m crying and i don’t know why

megan: love is patient. love is kind. love is terrifying and awkward and sometimes wears frog earrings

lara: (replies to megan) hoe are you shakespeare?

leeseo: please never do this to me

—

a/n: this was lowkey very fun to write and i’ll try to post “I forgot her face but not her heart” as soon as i can!! ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)

[applepiewinchesters]

Doomed (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

Summary: The arrival of two new mutants at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters brings some excitement to an otherwise normal day, particularly for you, Scott Summers’ sister. When you meet Logan and his cocky attitude, you soon realize you may be crushing on the new guy.

Word Count: 2,988

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was never one to turn away a lost mutant, even if they weren’t what was considered a “youngster”.

There were excited whispers all over the school about the two mutants who had been brought to the mansion late last night. One of them, Rogue, was already becoming acclimated, attending classes. You’d had the pleasure of meeting her when she joined your English class.

The other, a man, was still unconscious in Jean’s lab, having taken a nasty beating shortly before being rescued. You had tried to sneak down there during the students’ lunch break but your brother, Scott, had stopped you.

“We don’t know if this guy is dangerous,” Scott had sighed, dragging you away from the lower level entrance.

You pulled your arm from his grasp, “Scott, I’m a grown woman, and we’re the same age, I can take care of myself.”

Scott rolled his eyes which were hidden behind his sunglasses, “I don’t care I don’t want you getting hurt!”.

“Oh but Jean can be by herself?,” you argued,” She’d let me be down there with her!”.

“I’m not Jean, so get over it,” Scott said but turning and heading down the long hallway.

You’d flipped him off while his back was turned before stalking back to your classroom and waiting for the break to be over. All the while your mind on the mysterious man downstairs. You hadn’t even got to catch a glimpse of him when he and Rogue had arrived. He was whisked away for aid and you were tasked with making Rogue comfortable.

Charles felt you would be able to make the younger girl feel safe, she’d seemed a bit shaken up but it was nothing a hot drink couldn’t fix. You answered any questions she had while sitting at the kitchen table. Charles ended up being right in the end, he always was.

It was a bit later in the afternoon when you saw Scott run past your classroom door. You were grading a couple essays and your eyebrows knit together as you quickly stood, heading to the doorway.

You poked your head out the doorway, calling to your brother at the end of the hall, “What happened!?.”

“The other mutant, he woke up and attacked Jean, he’s somewhere in the mansion! Stay there!” Scott called back.

Nodding you walked back into the room, wondering if you should just stay there or risk running into the man.

It seemed fate decided for you when a man with dark hair dressed in black pants and what you recognized as gray zip up hoodie from the school slipped inside your classroom. You couldn’t help but notice the chest hair peeking out from the top of the jacket. He was barefoot and his hazel eyes darted around the room, quickly landing on you.

You couldn’t help but back up slightly at the intensity of his gaze, he looked confused and totally pissed at the same time.

Deciding to press your luck a little further you lifted your hands in mock surrender, “Slow your roll bucko, there’s kids here, don’t get crazy,” you reasoned.

“Where am I?” the man asked, ignoring your attempt at being somewhat humorous, probably partly deserved.

“Westchester, New York,” came a calm voice from behind the man, making him turn.

Charles was there, looking expectantly at the intruder. “More specially, a school, my school, I see you’ve met one of my brilliant teachers,” Charles explained.

You cracked a smile at the compliment, putting your hands down, “Flattery will get you nowhere, you know that.”

“I can always try,” Charles commented.

“What the fuck is going on?” the man asked, his voice was rough, almost a growl as he interrupted your conversation.

“Logan, please, calm down, come with me,” Charles spoke. Without another word he turned in his wheelchair, leaving the room and heading in the direction of his office.

The man, Logan, as Charles had called him, turned to you, almost for what seemed like clarification.

You only shrugged, motioning for him to leave the room as well. When he eventually did you followed, excited to finally be in on the big secret that’s been sleeping all day.

Arriving in Charles’ office you plopped down into one of the chairs in front of the large desk after shutting the wooden doors behind the three of you.

“Would you like some food?” Charles asked Logan, who stood close to the door, eyeing the room warily.

“Why am I here?” Logan asked, answering with a question of his own.

“You were attacked. My people brought you here for medical attention,” Charles explained.

“I don’t need medical attention,” Logan replied.

“Of course not,” you found yourself saying, looking up at Logan.

He glared slightly at you before smirking, “What’s your name sweetheart?” he asked, his chest puffed out a little, hands behind his back, he was cocky to say the least.

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” you teased, but stood from your seat regardless. “I’m Y/N, Y/N Summers.”

You held out your hand to shake and he took it, his hand was large and warm, his grip a little tight. “Logan,” he told you, “but you’re welcome to call me anything you like.”

“How about dickhead?”.

Introductions were interrupted by Scott throwing open the office doors, almost immediately taking a protective stance by your side.

“Logan this is Scott Summers, also called Cyclops,” Charles spoke, you watched as your brother gave Logan a rather firm handshake.

“Any relation?” Logan asked you, motioning to Scott.

“Twins, unfortunately,” you answered, throwing an arm around your brother to let him know were, of course, just kidding.

Logan looked almost shocked, “Wouldn’t have guessed.”

“And why is that?” Scott challenged, attempting to take a step forward but you gripped the back of his jacket.

“Well she’s…,” Logan trailed off, glancing over to you and giving you a quick wink, “and you’re, well, the sunglasses don’t do you much justice bub let’s just say that,” Logan smirked.

“Watch your f-,” Scott started but was thankfully interrupted by Ororo striding in.

You caught yourself smiling at Logan’s remark, and felt your face heat up slightly when you noticed Logan was staring at you.

Charles ignored the previous interaction, moving on with introductions,“This is Ororo Munroe, also called Storm, Ororo this is Logan.”

The two shook hands without any issue, Scott stayed planted by your side, always the overprotective sibling you never wanted.

“Where’s the girl?” Logan asked once he and Ororo shook hands.

“She’s here, she’s fine,” you spoke up, flashing Logan a reassuring smile, his gaze lingered on you a second more than it should have.

“We brought you here to keep you safe from Magneto,” Charles explained.

“What’s a magneto?” Logan asked.

“A very powerful mutant, who believes a war is brewing,” Charles answered, “I’ve been following his activities for quite some time. The man who attacked you is an associate of his called Sabertooth.”

“Sabertooth?” Logan asked, practically rolling his eyes, “She’s Storm. He’s Cyclops. What do they call you? Wheels?”.

His question was directed at Charles and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, quickly clamping a hand over your mouth.

Charles let it slide as Logan made his way towards the door, “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said.

Scott moved to block Logan’s way.

“You wanna get out of my way?” Logan asked, stepping closer to Scott who didn’t budge.

“Logan, it’s been almost fifteen years, hasn’t it?” Charles interrupted, making Logan turn away from your brother. “Living from day to day, moving from place to place, with no memory of who or what you are.”

“Shut up!” Logan growled, fingers curling into fists.

“Give me a chance,” Charles tried again, “I may be able to help you find some answers.”

Without another word Charles wheeled out of the room.

“Where’s he going?” Logan asked, looking to you.

You only smiled and motioned for him to follow, and after a moment he did, reluctantly.

That left you, Ororo, and Scott alone in the office. Scott stepped towards you and away from the door.

“What was that?” he seethed.

“What was what?” you replied, “I can’t be nice to a man who’s obviously had a pretty shit roll of the dice recently?”.

“Not that one,” Scott argued.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “Oh like we were perfect when we first got here, remember when you shot that huge hole in the roof?”.

“He’s not a kid, Y/N! He attacked Jean when he woke up, I already said I don’t want anything happening to you!” Scott told you.

Ororo was quick to leave the room during your little argument, she hated yours and Scott’s sibling spats, and today was not a day she wanted to be in the middle of one.

“Charles trusts him so I do too,” you replied.

Scott groaned, throwing his hands up, “Fine, whatever.”

You sighed, placing a hand on Scott’s shoulder, “I know you care, okay? And I love that you do but I’ll be fine, got it?”.

Scott only nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leading you from the office. The two of you met Jean in the hallway, who looked fine despite her surprise attack.

“Met our new mutant?” she asked you, taking Scott’s hand.

You smiled and nodded, “He’s…funny.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Scott mumbled. Jean placed a kiss on his cheek, making him perk up a bit.

“Your sister can take care of herself Scott,” Jean teased, pulling him away from you.

You heard Scott begin to argue as Jean directed him down the hall, she threw a quick wink over her shoulder at you before they disappeared around the corner. Jean always had your back and you loved her for it.

Heading the opposite way of your brother and Jean, you made your way towards the gardens where most of the kids were playing.

There was a basketball court, lots of places to run as well as sit and just enjoy the day. It really was beautiful. You’d arrived there some while ago and even since you’ve been at the school it’s expanded. Charles wasted no expense making sure everyone felt at home.

When you made it outside you saw Charles and Logan talking, when the older man noticed you he waved you over. You obliged, crossing the grass, making sure to be wary of a few kids playing tag.

“Need me?” you asked when you reached the two men.

“Would you please show Logan to his room?” Charles asked you.

You nodded, “Of course! Come on.”

Logan followed you without a fight, maybe his talk with Charles helped. Once inside you climbed the stairs to the second floor which held student’s and teacher’s dorms.

Walking past a few doors you stopped in front of the one you knew to be empty, grabbing the door knob and pushing it open.

“This is where you’ll be staying, there is a bathroom so you won’t need to go looking for one,” you spoke, entering the room, Logan following behind you.

“Umm, food is served downstairs but you’re always welcome to eat up here, if there’s any food you like specifically we can buy it,” you found yourself rambling a bit, “I’m sensing you’re a steak on the raw side kind of guy.”

This made Logan chuckle, “What makes you say that?”.

You shrugged, “Your…vibe? And those dog tags around your neck say Wolverine.”

Logan looked down, seeming to notice the dog tags then, he quickly put them inside the jacket.

“So do you have some kind of…dog mutation?” you asked, almost cringing at your words.

This didn’t seem to faze him though, he only laughed again, he seemed less tense than before, even stepping a bit closer to you.

“No, I’m not a dog, I…,” Logan trailed off, and you jumped a bit when three sharp, long blades extended from his left fist.

“I get it now,” you said when you found your voice again, watching the claws retreat back into Logan’s knuckles. “Jean is probably going to make you come back down to the lab, figure out exactly why you have…well, that.”

Logan nodded, “So, do you have a silly code name too or is it just Y/N?”. He quirked up an eyebrow at you, making you smile a bit.

“Roulette,” you answered.

“Oh?” Logan asked, seeming to be intrigued.

“I can switch people’s mutations at will, I could make Scott have your claws and you have his laser eyes, but it’s temporary, so far the longest I’ve been able to make it last is a few hours and that’s been with years of training,” you explained, “It’s tricky, but, ya know, I’m stuck with it.”

“That’s…that’s really amazing,” Logan told you truthfully, making you blush.

“It’s nothing really, sometimes it does more harm than good,” you said, brushing off the compliment.

“Don’t we all?” Logan asked you, making you meet his gaze again.

He was closer to you now, your chests almost touching. You were interrupted by a quick knock on the door frame.

Scott.

“Jean wants him downstairs again,” Scott said, leaning against the door, no doubt glaring at Logan behind his glasses. “I’ll take you.”

Logan rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say bub.”

You glared at your brother before turning back to Logan, “I’ll see you later, and I’m two doors down, if you ever need anything.”

Giving Logan another smile you turned, leaving the room, bumping your shoulder against Scott’s, mumbling a “Be nice,” to him before heading to your own room.

Logan turned to Scott then, cocking his head, “You gonna tell me to stay away from your sister?”.

Scott stood up straight, folding his hands behind his back, “I shouldn’t have to.”

“I think she can make her own decisions,” Logan argued, stalking towards the other man. “Seems like a smart girl.”

“She is,” Scott replied, turning away from Logan to begin their decent down to the lower levels, “that’s why I trust that she’ll see you for what you really are soon enough.”

“Oh and what’s that?” Logan asked, beginning to follow Scott down the hall.

“Another asshole that will break her heart in a week,” Scott said, turning around to face Logan.

“Then you must not be that smart,” Logan smirked, “maybe take some pointers from your sister.”

A loud crack out in the hall made you stick your head out of your bedroom, and you saw Scott and Logan. Scott was cradling his fist, a string of curses leaving his mouth. Logan turned to look at you, shrugging and sending you a wink.

You rolled your eyes. Men.

“Come on you two,” you sighed, heading towards them. “Jean can wrap up your hand while he gets scanned.”

“Scanned?” Logan asked as you steered your still cursing twin towards the stairs.

“It’s an MRI really, nothing to worry about,” you reassured. Logan seemed a bit hesitant but nodded and followed.

Scott kept quiet the whole way after his cursing ended, his pride more hurt than his hand. When you reached the lab you pushed your brother towards his girlfriend.

“White Knight over here needs a bandage,” you joked, and Logan snorted a bit.

Jean sighed and nodded, “Take off your shirt and lay over there,” she directed Logan towards the large machine in the corner while Scott sat on another table.

You grabbed a first aid kit and handed it to Jean while Logan unzipped his jacket, tossing it onto a work station along with his dog tags.

He was, to put it lightly, ripped. You could already tell even with the jacket on, but seeing him with it off was enough to make you stare.

When he eventually caught you, you looked away, letting him climb up on the table while you directed your attention back to Scott and Jean.

Jean was wrapping his hand in gauze, “A sprain,” she mouthed to you over Scott’s shoulder and you nodding, smiling.

Turning back to Logan you walked to the edge of the table, he looked up at you and smirked.

“See something you like?” he asked, making you laugh and shake your head.

“I think that’s enough with the flirting for today lover boy,” you said, patting his arm. “I’ve gotta go help with dinner.”

Logan seemed a bit disappointed but nodded as you turned away from him.

“See you both later,” you told Jean and Scott as you made your way towards the door.

Jean nodded and Scott kept his head down, confirming his ego was more bruised than anything.

When you were out of sight of the three of them you took a minute to lean against the cold metal walls of the lower level, taking a deep breath.

Logan was going to be the death of you, you could already see that, but whether in a good or bad way you couldn’t quite tell yet.

After a second you pushed off the wall and headed back upstairs, joining Ororo and a few older students in the kitchen to help prepare dinner.

You stood beside Ororo, cutting vegetables, your mind wandering to Logan, him lying on that table…

Ororo nudged you just in time to keep you from slicing your finger open.

“Sorry,” you said, face heating up.

“Distracted?” she asked, giving you a knowing look.

“No!” you answered too quickly.

Ororo patted your shoulder as she moved to the other side of you to grab a knife, “Whatever you say kid.”

The rest of the night was spent trying to convince everyone, including yourself, that you were not crushing on the new guy.

But when you were headed to bed that night and Logan stopped you in the hall outside his room to thank you for the help and wish you goodnight, you knew you were doomed.

[annarobszombies]

The Early Days

StanXeno x Fem!Reader as high school friends turned lovers.

I have no regrets

Content warning: bullying, harassment, mild violence, smoking, suggestive

"Oh my God, have you seen the new girl?" It's almost cliche, the way the group of girls giggle over the latest hot school gossip.

"Right? I mean, come on with that outfit!"

They quiet when Stanley walks by, giggling for a whole new reason now. One girl twirls her hair around her finger, batting her eyelashes, but he just keeps moving. He had no interest in people like that, but that only seems to make them swoon over him more once he passes.

He makes a hard left, the school chemistry lab just ahead, with Xeno likely already inside.

"Yo," He says, throwing the door open. Several other science club students startle, but Xeno doesn't budge. He stands calmly, carefully mixing chemicals and noting the reactions.

"Stanley," Xeno says. "You made it."

"Uh-huh." Stanley kicks out a chair from a nearby table and drops himself into it.

The lab returns to its quiet bustle, the other students focusing again on their experiments and reports. Stanley idly glances around the room, watching each and every one of them for a moment before letting his gaze settle on Xeno.

Xeno's eyebrows are knitted tightly, his eyes entirely focused on the delicate chemicals. His gaze never wavers, his attention never strays.

"You see the new student today?" Stanley asks once he finally gets bored of watching Xeno drop one chemical into another at an excruciatingly slow pace.

"Indeed. She and I share our third period computer science class together," Xeno says, voice soft as if he worried being too loud could ruin his experiment.

"Mm."

"And you, Stanley?"

"American Lit. Fifth period. She sits next to me."

"How lucky for her."

Stanley chuckles and rolls his eyes. He tucks his hands into his jacket pockets, toying with the lighter he hid within one of them. He was itching for a smoke, but the last time he got caught on campus he was threatened with suspension, which he couldn't afford right now.

The two fall once again into silence, but that wasn't uncommon. They'd known each other for so long that they rarely needed to talk too much about little nothings anymore. At most, Xeno may make a few idle comments about whatever he was testing, but any real conversation would likely wait until they were in Stanley's car on the way home.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Um..."

Xeno's eyes lift, finding the source of the voice standing in front of him, anxiously gripping a notebook.

"Yes?" He asks. You shift your weight from foot to foot, the tips of your ears a cute pink.

"The teacher...said to work with a partner on the, uh, project she assigned?" You say it like a question, as if you weren't totally sure you were correct in what you'd been told.

"Ah, did she? I apologize, I wasn't listening." It was a lie, of course, he'd heard the instructions perfectly clearly. He was used to working mostly alone, so he was a bit surprised that you had approached him.

"Do...do you mind?" You ask, cheeks turning pink now. He can hear the sounds of some other girls giggling, the weight of their stares heavy on his shoulders. So, you'd been denied by everyone else, it seems.

"Of course not," He says, gesturing for you to take a seat by him. You let out a relieved sigh, grabbing a chair from a nearby desk and settling it across from him, gingerly setting your notebook down on the top of his desk. "We haven't yet met officially, my name is Xeno."

You tell him your name, smiling sheepishly when he repeats it carefully back to you.

"I look forward to working with you."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You dust your hands over your shirt, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Xeno had said to meet him in his club's classroom after school so that the two of you could go home together and work on your project, but you couldn't help feeling nervous.

Making friends in this new school had been really difficult, but he had been very nice to you the past few days, so you felt hopeful that you might be able to come out of this assignment with someone you could continue to talk to and maybe hang out with on weekends. But that relied on you not totally fucking this up and making him hate you on accident.

You start to reach for the door, jumping a little when it swings open from the inside.

"Oh," The young man who looks down at you is downright stunning. You'd seen him before, of course, he was your desk neighbor in your American Literature class. But this was the first time you'd heard his voice, the first time he'd actually paid you any attention. "Hey."

"Hi," You say softly. "I'm...looking for Xeno?"

"Inside," He says, brushing by you and heading down the hall, hands stuffed in his leather jacket pockets. He didn't strike you as the kind of person to be in the science club, but anything was possible.

Stepping inside the room, it's exactly what you expected. There are are several students inside, some in groups while some worked individually. Xeno stood at a desk in the front right corner, his back to you as you walk further in. He turns to glance at you when you softly call his name upon approach, offering you a kind smile.

"Give me one moment to finish this and we will leave shortly," He says, waving for you to come closer and sit in the chair that rested at his side. You decide to work on some homework while you wait, carefully balancing both a textbook and your notebook on your lap.

It takes about an hour for Xeno to finish what he's working on and clean his station, but soon enough he's giving you a gentle nudge and telling you it was time to go. He smiles when you scramble to pack your things up and throw your backpack over your shoulders.

"My friend Stanley will be driving us," He says, leading you from the room. "I hope you don't mind, he'll be sticking around for the rest of the day."

"That's fine!" You say, perhaps a little too eagerly. Xeno smiles again at you.

"Excellent," He says. You follow him through the halls, pausing at his locker long enough for him to transfer a few items to and from his bag, then out into the parking lot. He walks slightly ahead of you once you exit the doors, his pace picking up the moment you both hit fresh air.

He pauses at the edge of the sidewalk where parents would pick up students who didn't drive yet or ride the bus, but the two of you only wait about a minute and a half before a car whips around, stopping just in front of you. The passenger window slides down, and in the driver's seat, you see the beautiful boy from earlier leaning over the middle console to look at the two of you.

"Get in," He says. You note the cigarette between his teeth, wondering now if that was the reason he'd left in such a hurry.

Xeno opens the back door to deposit his bag, taking yours from you to do the same before telling you to sit up front.

"Don't worry," He says when you hesitate. "Stan doesn't bite."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stanley Snyder does, in fact, bite. He just doesn't bare his teeth until he has to.

You get comfortable around him pretty quickly, which seems to drive every girl in the school totally insane. Not that you could blame them, Stanley was objectively beautiful and ignored just about everyone.

On a typical day, he's calm-if not a bit lazy-and generally collected. He sticks close to Xeno, which means that as you and the young scientist get closer, he begins sticking to you as well. He talks to you in class now, leaning over to mumble bad jokes that make you laugh too hard to be ignored by the teacher.

But today was not your typical day.

You'd been on you way to meet Xeno and Stanley for your after school hangout and homework time, when you were cornered by a senior guy by your locker. He'd leaned against the lockers, grinning and proud at the way you startled at the sight of him. You tied to go around, but he moved to purposefully block you, keeping himself in front of you so that you couldn't break and run.

"I just wanna talk to you," He says.

"I really don't want to talk to you," You say, trying to scoot around him, only to fail yet again. You were getting frustrated and a little scared. Xeno and Stanley were waiting for you, you didn't want them to leave you behind just because some asshole wanted to make himself feel big.

"C'mon, you hang out with that science club freak and his pretty faced boytoy all the time, why don't you spend your day with someone else, huh?" He asks, reaching to make a grab for you. His words make you flush a bit in anger. Sure, you knew Stanley and Xeno were something (they weren't exactly subtle), but to have it thrown at your face as if it's a bad thing made you absolutely livid.

Who was this guy to talk about your friends that way? He didn't know them! How dare he!

"Don't talk about them like that!" You snap, just barely too slow to avoid the hand that clasps around your forearm. The boy in front of you scowls, his grip on your arm tightening to a bruising hold.

"Come hang with me, and I'll show you what a real man is," He sneers, making your face flush even hotter.

"I said no!"

"Don't be such a little prude-"

What happens next happens so fast that it takes far longer than it should for you to process. The boy holding to you is jerked backwards hard enough to force him to release you, though you also stumble forward a few steps at the sudden movement. Then, before you can blink, Stanley has him slammed into the floor. He stands over him, frighteningly calm despite the hard glare his golden eyes burn into your harasser.

"Pretty sure when a lady tells you no, you're supposed to back the fuck off," Stanley hisses, his voice dripping with sarcasm and anger.

You can't help jumping a little when those sharp eyes flit up to look at you, though you note how they soften at the sight of you're slightly shaking figure.

"You alright?" He asks. You nod quickly.

"Y-yeah, I'm good. Can we go?" You ask, taking a tentative step towards him.

"Course we can," He says, stepping back from the other boy and lifting an arm for you to tuck yourself under. He holds you against his side, escorting you without further issue outside to where Xeno had been left waiting.

You don't question where he goes after he and Xeno discover the hand-shaped bruise on your arm, nor do you question why that same boy comes to school several days later with two broken hands and a black eye.

Something inside you already knows that Stanley did it for you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your relationship shifts suddenly one night after graduation.

The three of you are in your room, Xeno leaning against your pillows with a book in his hand while you sit in the middle of you bed, makeup strewn around you, and Stanley sits on the edge, leaned forward so you can paint his face as you see fit.

"Open," You say. Stanley huffs in amusement, parting his lips so that you can press the lipstick against his waiting mouth, swiping your favorite deep purple across his surprisingly soft looking lips.

"Now rub."

He hums, doing as instructed. You pick up a little pocket mirror and open it, handing it to him so that he can look at your handiwork.

"Not bad," He says, turning his head left and right to fully inspect his new face.

"The dark lips suit you, Stan," Xeno says, peering over his book to take a look for himself, earning an amused hum from Stanley.

Its in this moment that you realize how close Stanley had gotten. His face mere inches from yours, eyes heavy with...something. Something heavy, something wanting. It makes you flush and shuffle backwards on instinct alone.

Stanley follows, crawling after you, backing you up even further. He doesn't stop until you're literally in Xeno's lap, the other young man letting out a noise of annoyance and frustration.

"Must we do this now?" Xeno asks, letting his book fall to his side, his arms wrapping around your middle as if to guard you from Stanley, who pouts. It was always quite the sight to see, when his lower lip stuck out and his eyebrows furrowed like that.

"Don't act all innocent right now, Xee," Stanley says, smirking when both he and you notice that one of Xeno's hands has snuck under the hem of your shirt, his fingertips gingerly brushing over the soft skin of your side.

Your whole body feels warm, heart hammering in your chest. Weren't they partners? What was happening right now?

Stanley creeps closer, effectively sandwiching you between the two.

"Hey," He says, voice low. "Wanna make out?" His question flusters you just as much as Xeno's continuing touch. It felt so out of character for him, yet he still sounded so like himself.

You must nod, or agree in some other way, because before you know it, Stanley's lips are on yours, smearing his freshly done lipstick all over you. His tongue ends up in your mouth, and you suddenly become very aware of how much more experience he has.

He pulls back slightly, lips drifting from yours to press kisses to your cheeks and jaw while you pant softly. Both of Xeno's hands are up your shirt now, his wicked fingers making you shiver.

"What's the verdict?" Xeno murmus, pressing his own lips the soft spot between your neck and shoulder.

"Perfect," Stanley hums, sinking his teeth into your other shoulder, kissing the spot when you wince.

"Quite the conclusion you've come to," Xeno says, one hand sliding from your torso to your chin, turning your head as far as it would comfortably go to look back at him. "I think I'd like to give my own opinion, if I may."

"Okay," You breathe, drunk on all the attention.

Xeno's kiss is slower, more exploratory. He doesn't devour you, like Stanley had, but that doesn't change how good it was.

Both of them kissed you like they wanted you, like they'd wanted you for a while, and by the time the night ends, all three of you are covered in lipstick.

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | ten.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 5.1k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, the dots are being connected!! soooo many run-ins and slip-ups 😭, alcohol consumption and intoxication, someone gets a lil too aggressive with oc, confrontation, some pushing / getting in each other’s faces lol, someone actually catches san x oc—OOP, namjoon is stressed, jongho too actually lmao, lots of assumptions, sorry if i missed anything!!

"So, how was it?" Jiung asks, walking alongside of you as the two of you slowly walk over to the Gates Biology Building, where Yunho's class was being held. You sip on your cup of coffee, dragging your feet while you look ahead to the building in view.

"What, the conference?" Jiung nods. "It was okay! Nothing too fancy."

"You didn't see any other people there?"

"Not really, no. I think this was a relatively smaller conference compared to the others."

"Did you get to talk to Professor Choi much?" He looks down at his feet, wondering if you'd open up about anything that could potentially give him clues. But, you resort to a simple—

"Nope." Jiung is looking at your necklace now. "Just said hi in passing." You avoid eye contact.

"I see." He tries to read your body language but it isn't giving him anything. He's just not sure why you're keeping it so vague and brief, though. That's unusual. Plus, the fact that you can barely maintain eye contact with him. "That's a nice necklace, by the way. Is it new?" He points at it.

"Mhm. I got it down there." You touch the necklace with a small smile.

"It's cute. It suits you."

"That's what the lady told us—" You catch yourself. "Me, too. I mean." Jiung furrows his brows.

"Us?"

"The other shoppers around." You quickly throw out just as you get to the front of the Gates Biology Building. "Thanks for walking me." You playfully ruffle his hair and he chuckles.

"Mmyeah. See you later for the happy hour event?" You nod.

"Have a good rest of your day." You wave him off as you walk backwards and head into the lobby. He stands there for a second, waiting until you fully disappear into the elevator and off to the classroom, turning on his heel while replaying the conversation in his head.

You don't feel the same to him, and he knows it's because you're hiding something. You weren't always great at lying or keeping up with a façade because that just wasn't you. For you to be doing it means there's something tied to it that means a lot to you, something you're trying to protect, and Jiung is now convinced that something is Professor Choi.

It's only a matter of time until he finds out one way or another, and he's not sure how to feel about it. It could either go badly or end up worse; he's afraid you'll end up hurt at the end of it, and he's afraid everything you've worked for will be taken away from you so, so quickly.

Meanwhile, when you drag yourself into the classroom, you're startled by the sight of Yunho on his laptop, sitting at the table in front of the classroom.

"Oh, hey!" He says, typing away. "Hope you don't mind me joining in for journal club today." You shrug with a small chuckle, setting your things off to the side while Yunho comfortably sits back in the chair. Your eyes quickly skim his get-up for today, which is pretty casual: dark jeans, a long sleeve top and chucks. He doesn't say much while you're getting things ready on the projector, typing away on his phone in between scanning your figure. He's trying to see if anything looks or feels off with you, and so far, it doesn't.

San is careful as can be, he supposes.

"It is your class, Professor Jeong." He smiles a bit and nods.

"So, how was your weekend?" You yawn into your arm and shrug. 

"It was okay. I came back from a trip. Felt too short."

"Mm." Yunho hums. "Where'd you go, if you don't mind me asking?" He's eyeing your features as you sift through your notes.

"Just drove out a few hours with my mom." You avoid eye contact as you go through today's paper and prepare some discussion points for class.

"Oh." Yunho nods. "That sounds nice." His eyes land on your necklace and it looks too familiar— which is probably because he almost bought that same necklace for Iseul on Hiro this past weekend.

Maybe San isn't all that careful cause he swears he sees the faint hickey at the base of your neck from this angle. The longsleeve top you're wearing covers it for the most part, if you're paying attention.

"What about you?" You look at him and see that his eyes have landed on your necklace before they move up to meet your eyes.

"I was actually at Hiro for a couple of things, then went to the BAS conference for a bit." Your heart drops and suddenly, the room feels incredibly hot. You completely avoid eye contact with him now, sifting through your notes to finalize the discussion points for today. "I thought I saw you there with San."

"No?" Is all you manage to say, but it's enough for Yunho to catch onto everything.

"You weren't?" You look at him, and his expression is blank. All you can do is pretend to play it off and shake your head, hoping he'd let it go.

"Not me." Your response is barely above a whisper, and all Yunho can do is let out a breath. He knows.

"Y/N." His expression switches and you can see the concern on his face. "Can I ask—"

"Morning Professor Jeong and Y/N!" A student comes in and plops into his usual seat, followed by another student, and another. 

Thank god.

"Sorry, you were saying?" You look at him cluelessly, making him shake his head in response.

"Nothing. I'll let you take it from here." He gives you a small smile, eyes now glued onto the students ahead. You give them a few minutes, waiting for the stragglers to trickle in and get settled before you call their attention to the front and begin today's journal club paper discussion.

Yunho, for the most part, keeps to himself during class, chiming in when he wants to clarify a point or to encourage the class to bring more discussion to the table. Yunho thinks you're a great TA, and he sees that the students are comfortable with you. He hates that he's so conflicted because of many things: one, he's not sure entirely about the situation. Two, his gut feeling makes him feel sure but he doesn't know how to approach it. Three, he knows you're an incredibly bright and smart person— you'd get along with anyone and truly, he hasn't had any issues with you despite his last minute requests for classes or assignments.

Four, maybe he just needs to let this go and stop meddling.

Five, you would've known what you were getting into right?

But, he's reminded otherwise when class wraps up an hour and 15 minutes later— a brutal reminder otherwise. He sees you packing up and getting your things together, clinging onto your phone just as you grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder. As you turn on your heel, you almost collide straight into Iseul.

You look at her, and she looks at you.

Her eyes glaze over your features, landing on your neck, that necklace.

"Excuse—" You try to brush past her, but she gives you a small smile and steps in your way.

"Hi Y/N, how's class with Yunho been?" You look at her because you have never spoken a word to her, nor did you have a reason to. But, out of respect [especially on campus], you give her a faint smile before responding.

"Good." You simply respond as she nods.

"And how's your rotation with San? Sure he's been treating you well?" She tilts her head to the side, almost like she's mocking you. Almost like the answer is written all over your face, your neck; her eyes are there again and you can't help but tug up and adjust your top more.

"Very." 

"That's good to hear, I expected as much. He's pretty good about building relationships with his lab members." She gives you a small smirk before stepping aside, slowly making her way to Yunho behind you. He stands there, hand slipped into his pocket while he cocks his brow at her. You don't even take another moment to look at them, instead quickly walking out of the room to text San and make your way over to your next class of the day.

you: san.

san: uh oh. lol what did i do? 😅

you: no it's not that. ☹️

san: what is it, baby? do you wanna come into my office in a bit? i'm wrapping up at the faculty meeting.

you: no, it's okay. i just finished class with yunho and i think he knows. well, him and iseul.

san: what, why do you say that?

san: not like i care about what they have to say or whatever.

you: san, you should. 🫤

san: alright, i'm sorry. you're right. but what did they say, baby? do you wanna wait until i see you later?

you: yunho just said he thought he saw us at the BAS conference, but i know he did. his tone and look said so. he was just trying to get it out of me. and iseul.. i don't know. it was just weird.

san: we'll talk about this later tonight then, okay? it'll be okay. don't worry about them.

you: okay. 🥺 are you going to the happy hour thing?

san: wasn't planning on it but i know namjoon's text is gonna come sooner or later. going with your friends?

you: mhm. i'll see you later tonight if you don't go?

san: soooo long. wanna pop into my office in a bit? 

you: sannie. lol i'm headed to my next class then i'm going to meet up with jiung and them afterwards.

san: for 2 seconds. 😭

You playfully roll your eyes and smile as you text back, already walking over to class.

you: you're still wrapping up at the faculty meeting and i'm headed to class. i don't think we'll have 2 seconds, professor choi.

san: booooooo.

you: see you later. 😙

san: ☹️ mean.

You giggle to yourself, tucking your phone into your pocket as you head to class; forgetting the tense, awkward moments that just occurred between Yunho and Iseul.

"Why'd you have to do that, hm?" Yunho asks her, grabbing his bag from the floor before walking alongside of her.

"Was just trying to see how she'd react. I'm sure she didn't tell you anything about her trip?"

"No. Said she went away with her mom for the weekend, so." Iseul chuckles.

"Of course. Someone I know said they definitely saw San leaving with her at the conference. Kinda makes sense now, doesn't it?" She looks up at him. "Y/N folded when I mentioned him, her body language completely changed."

"Iseul." Yunho looks at her. "What are you trying to do here? All I was gonna do was ask her, not interrogate or attack her."

"I'm trying to get you to do the right thing. They're dating, Yunho. It's obvious. I saw the way she tugged on her top, too. I'm sorry but she's not slick." He sighs.

"I don't know, I don't wanna start this whole thing. What if it isn't even that serious, or what if we're completely wrong—"

"Everything about this is serious regardless of what angle you look at it. It's wrong." She says. "You don't have to talk to San, but I will. They need to know." He sighs heavily, no longer knowing how to respond to her about the whole issue.

You meet up with your friends outside in the middle of the Harvey Center courtyard, where all the activities are set up appropriately for the happy hour event taking place. They've got cornhole competitions set up on the lawn nearby, another station to decorate university tumblers, and another for quick but fun board games. They've got a bunch of pizza boxes sitting out on tables, beer and canned wine next to it. You and your friends help yourself to a few slices before grabbing your drinks of choice for the night. They've got string lights to add to the atmosphere, the evening being clear but chilly.

"Finally! We relax all together again!" Felix says, tapping his can against yours before you all drink and start to indulge in tonight's happy hour festivities. 

"Our baby's finally here, too!" Eunchae squeezes you, hugging you tightly and making you laugh as she clings onto your arm.

"I know, Y/N. You've been so MIA." Felix looks at you with his usual puppy eyes, bottom lip slightly poking out. "What's been going on?"

"I've been busy with the lab, honestly. Trying to put in as much work as I can before the rotation ends."

"It's like you're practically living there." Felix jokes.

"How come you haven't been working with Sunwoo, though? He said you've been on your own schedule and stuff." Jiung asks.

"We're just focusing on different aspects right now. Plus, I've been trying to help Belle out as much as I can, too."

"Okay but, make time for us, too. Live your life!" Eunchae preaches. "You're here with us now, so let's enjoy it." So, you do. You do exactly that with your friends and a bunch of other people who swung by from different departments. Today's happy hour event is the liveliest you've ever seen it— tons of friends and people swarming from different departments and areas just to take a break from everything and mingle.

You and your friends hang out with familiar and new faces, all of you sitting around and drinking while one half played games and the others talked about school, work. Life. San and his friends join eventually, talking to a few students as they hang around amongst themselves. You giggle to yourself seeing San put on a face cause it's obvious he's not entirely in the mood. But, he's here. So, are his friends; Professor Kim being the social butterfly out of them all, per usual.

"So, Y/N. Tell me about the stuff you've been doing in Professor Choi's lab. I heard you've been up to some crazy stuff from Sunwoo and Belle." Hae-jin, a postdoc in another lab, pulls his chair closer to yours and looks you in the eye. At first, the conversation is fun, it's lively. You're in good spirits conversing with the guy, laughing and poking fun at campus life and being a grad student vs. postdoc.

But, Hae-jin keeps drinking.

And he keeps drinking.

Then his true intentions start coming out and you're no longer having a good time talking to the guy.

A few people are drunk enough to start a fun little dance floor in the middle of the courtyard while the speakers blast music, Eunchae, Felix and Jiung also grabbing you to join them as you sing along to the song. You facetime call Jurin while she's away, letting her know much you miss her. The call ends after 5 minutes, Jurin sadly waving while she heads off to dinner with her parents for their anniversary celebration.

"I'm gonna grab some water." You tuck your phone in your pocket, heading straight to the water table nearby.

"I was looking for you, cute stuff!" Hae-jin throws his arm around you and you can smell the alcohol lingering on his breath. "Wanna dance?"

"No, I'm good, Hae-jin." You shrug him off and take another sip of water before tossing your cup. San is already on high alert from where he's standing— his attention nowhere on Namjoon, Jongho or Zara right now even though he's trying his hardest to keep it together.

The fuck was this guy doing?

"What, why? It's just for fun? Let's just go and hang out." He throws his arm around you again, this time bringing you flush to his body. You try to press off his chest, but he's strong and it isn't an easy fight.

"Hae-jin, stop—"

"What's wrong?" Luckily, Eunchae is already on her way over to save you, sensing your distress signal from afar.

"Hey, stop." Eunchae senses the way you stiffen and quickly become uncomfortable. "Leave her alone." Eunchae pushes Hae-jin back roughly. "You're drunk, dude. She said no."

"Aw come on, bestie trying to get in the way? I just thought we could have a dance. We were connecting, Y/N. Were we not?"

"Hae-jin, stop—No." His hand comes to your waist again. But, before Eunchae can even jump in, another familiar voice does:

"She said no." San steps in the middle, hand lightly pressed against his chest to create some distance. "Sure you understand what that means, right?" San's tone is laced with anger, but he's wearing a cocky smirk to cover it up. He's fuming and you know it.

"Professor Choi." You quietly say behind him with Eunchae still next to you, but he doesn't respond to it.

"San." Christopher is trying to hold him back by the shoulder, doing his best to reel him back in. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you. You do understand what no means, right?" San asks again, his voice louder as he shrugs off Chris.

"Wow, relax. I didn't think I was coming off that disrespectful. She seemed interested so I was only playing her game—" San steps forward and your heart drops to your ass because what the fuck does he think he's doing right now?

"Kinda looked like you were forcing yourself on her, though." San cocks his head to the side. "Dunno if that really counts as her being interested." 

"San. Bring it back." Chris repeats. "The hell do you think you're doing right now?" He mutters lowly.

"San." You help by calling for him again, causing Hae-jin to knit his brows in confusion [along with Eunchae and Chris]. His eyes dart from you, to San, back to you, before responding.

"And how does it make any better that you're getting all worked up over her, Professor? Care to fill us in—"Hae-jin smirks a bit, causing San to push him back by the chest aggressively. But, before Hae-jin can even react properly, he's interrupted.

"San!" It's not just your voice calling out for him; it's Jongho's, it's Namjoon's, it's Christopher's. Namjoon is quick to step in between, creating distance between Hae-jin and San, giving San a very, very stern look once he dismisses Hae-jin to the side. You faintly hear Namjoon tell him to leave if he still plans to stir trouble, in which his friend tugs him to the side and apologizes on his behalf before they leave the event all together. You watch as Namjoon, Chris and Jongho move San to the opposite end, San's eyes wandering to you as if Namjoon isn't in front of him trying to get to the bottom of things.

"The hell just happened? Are you guys okay?" Felix asks as him and Jiung come over after playing a competitive game of cornhole with another duo of grad students.

"Bro, Hae-jin was getting all handsy and wouldn't take no for answer." Eunchae rolls her eyes, keeping you by her side and brushing your hair back. "Fucking creep. I wish Professor Choi actually decked his ass."

"I saw him getting in the middle." Felix adds. 

"What's that about?" Jiung looks at you, but you don't really respond. You know he's not asking about Hae-jin. You know he's asking about San in particular.

"He deserved it, that's what. Being a whole dumbass with no boundaries. Learn how to control yourself, asshole!" She yells, hoping Hae-jin hears it even though him and his friends are all further away.

"I'm gonna head to the bathroom."

"Want me to come?" Eunchae asks and you shake your head.

"I'm good. Promise. Just needa break the seal again and take a little breather." Eunchae smiles a bit before squeezing and letting go of your hand. 

On the other hand, Namjoon and Jongho finally find a better spot to speak with San at. Chris is honestly confused about the whole situation, being that he's never seen San outwardly act out that way even throughout his bad days. Jongho, on the other hand, knows exactly why and he knew it from the moment Hae-jin started drinking more and getting close to you.

Maybe he should've helped calm him down. He knew San's attention was on you and no one else.

"San." Namjoon calls him again to bring his attention back to him. "I know damn well— what the hell are you doing putting your hands on a postdoc like that at a campus event?"

"He was getting disrespectful, I know you saw that."

"I did, but you could've handled it with a lot more grace, San. This isn't the time nor place to get worked up like that. You don't get into fights on campus as a professor."

"I'm sorry."

"Was that really all that triggered it? Is there something else going on?" San looks at the floor and shakes his head, jaw ticking as he tries to calm himself down.

"No sir. I shouldn't have reacted that way." Namjoon doesn't believe it one bit, but he won't add more fuel to the fire right now.

"I don't think he'll go crying to the dean so consider yourself lucky. Please don't pull that shit again around these students. Promise me. You've got enough to deal with as is." San sighs heavily and nods.

"You're right, I'm sorry, Joon." Namjoon just gives him a small nod before letting out a breath and walking off to the side.

"Are you okay? I've never seen you that angry." Chris asks, confused about why San reacted the way he did.

"Yeah." 

"Excuse us." Jongho says as he lightly pushes him by the shoulder, a little irritated at how incredibly stupid he's being. "Bro." He adds when he gets him alone. "What did I tell you?"

"He was putting his hands on her! I wasn't gonna let him disrespect her."

"Because she's your girlfriend?" Pause. 

"That's besides the point, Jongho. He wasn't taking no for an answer and was forcing himself onto her."

"You could've just asked him to leave. He would have listened if you had just approached it properly." San doesn't listen, though. Instead, he clicks his teeth and whips out his phone to text you because he doesn't see you anywhere. "San. Don't." Jongho warns him, trying to keep the peace and the suspicion down. "Can't you just talk to her later? Shit will not help your case if someone sees you two. Think about this."

san: baby, where are you? 

you: i'm going to the bathroom.

san: can you meet me behind the building, near the first, back west wing door?

you: is that a good idea?

san: really quickly. please.

you: i'll be there in a sec.

"Be right back." He looks at Jongho before walking into the building and out to the back door near the bathrooms. 

"San." Jongho calls for him again before clicking his teeth. This dude was gonna stress him the fuck out, no doubt.

"Jongho?" Namjoon looks at him and all he can do is shrug. 

"I really don't know what to tell you." Jongho and Namjoon's eyes travel around to see if everyone is still looking at the scene. "Whatever it is, it isn't my story to tell, Joon."

"Is everything okay?" Zara cuts in, concerned about San. She also witnessed the entire thing go down and unfortunately, it's just another reminder, another confirmation, of your relationship with him. It still aches her heart, even though a tiny part of her is selfishly holding onto hope that they'd work out in the end.

Not you two.

"Yeah, should be." Namjoon gives her a small smile. "Don't worry about it. He's just having an off night." Iseul and Yunho are quietly observing from the opposite end of the courtyard, still mid-discussion with other colleagues. They do try to bring their attention back to the discussion and away from San thankfully; however, Yunho knows Iseul definitely won't let it go at this point.

After you head to the bathroom, you wash your hands and fix your hair a bit, hands slightly shaking from the entire encounter. You take a few deep breaths before heading out towards the back door of the west wing, which is only a few steps away from the bathroom area on the first floor. As soon as you step outside, San is there with his hands in his pockets. He immediately pulls you in for a hug, one that you don't reciprocate, especially because you're on campus. You gently push him back and shake your head, bottom lip slightly poking out in a pout.

"Baby—"

"Not here." You softly say. There's a small pause before you let out a sigh and address the elephant in the room. "San, you didn't have to do that."

"Well, the hell was I supposed to do? Let him touch you without your consent? He was making you uncomfortable, Y/N. Over my dead fuckin' body—"

"Can't you think for a second? You're on campus!"

"I don't get why you're upset with me for just trying to protect you."

"There were better ways to do it."

"Angel." He says in defeat. "I'm sorry. I'm not gonna sit back and let someone disrespect you like that. Namjoon will be fine—"

"It's not even that, it's everyone else—"

"So be it! For all I fucking care." 

"San, stop saying that." 

"No, why? Are you really upset with me?" He cuts in and asks, almost caging you in while he looks at you softly. It's taking everything in you to not just kiss him right here, right now. Wrap your arms around him, tell him to forget every little fucking thing because all that matters is you and him; on that us against the world type shit—

"Y/N?" You turn when you hear the door pop open and another figure is in your peripherals. Jiung is there, confused about the two of you being together. 

In the back.

San's face, body, in close proximity to yours.

Both of your expressions are telling.

"What're you doing? I thought you were going to the bathroom?" San steps back, attention shifting towards his feet. 

"I'll talk to you later." Is all he says before brushing past you and Jiung, back to Jongho in the main courtyard.

"Jiung." You come towards him. "You didn't have to come looking for me." You brush past him to head back to the courtyard, and Jiung can't help but keep his eyes on San for a second longer before he's coming after you and grabbing your wrist.

Fuck, San thinks. This whole night is so fucked up. He doesn't even know if you're mad at him or not.

He doesn't know what this means.

"Y/N, don't you think we should talk?"

"About what?"

"Stop." He swings you around to face him. "That's enough. What the hell is going on with you and Professor Choi?"

"Jiung—"

"I know you haven't been telling the truth, so please stop. Be honest with me, that's all I ask." You sigh shakily, bottom lip trembling as you fiddle with your fingers. Jiung knew, and tonight probably solidified everything he had questioned, felt, assumed. There was no getting away from it, not from Jiung. 

"We've been seeing each other." His eyes widen in surprise.

"So, Sunwoo wasn't lying when he said he didn't see you during the NAS conference." You feel the tears pricking at your lids as you shake your head. "You were with him." He lets out a breath. "Who else knows?"

"No one else. Please don't mention it to them cause I'm not ready to do that talk with them yet." He doesn't even answer, but the next question throws you so off-guard you don't even know how to properly react.

"D-did Professor Choi force you into this? Is he making you do stuff in order to secure your spot in his lab? Y/N, if he's—" You step back and look at him disbelief.

"W-what? That's the first thing you thought of?" Now, it's his turn to look at you in disbelief because how is he supposed to know? He sees the surface level of it and obviously, everything about it is wrong.

"He's a professor, Y/N. Not just any, but yours. Your rotation PI."

"I know it seems wrong, but that's not what it is at all."

"Seems wrong? It is." He flatly says. "This could literally fuck up everything for the both of you. Did you not think about that?"

"I'm not stupid, Jiung. I knew what I was getting into." You back up. "And why would you think of him that way? He'd never do that."

"How am I supposed to know? I know him as a professor—"

"Well, he would never do that."

"I'm sorry? I'm just worried and am making sure you're okay as your friend."

"I told you it was fine. It's not like that and we both agreed on this."

"Okay?" Jiung retorts, hurt by the defensive tone you have.

"I'm just gonna say bye to everyone and head back."

"I can walk—"

"It's fine."

"Why are you hella angry with me?" Jiung stops you again. "You can't actually be angry at me for caring about you."

"I don't need you to do that, Jiung. And I don't need you to start assuming all this shit about me and Professor Choi. You don't know him, and you obviously don't know me if you think I'm someone who could be forced around like that."

"That was not even my point, I was just—"

"Whatever." You say, brushing him off as you walk towards your friends and start gathering your things.

"You're leaving!?" Eunchae pouts. "Fucking Hae-jin and his kill-joy ass!"

"I'm just tired, is all. You stay and have fun, okay?"

"You sure? I can walk you—"

"Please. I promise. Have fun." You reassure her before saying your goodbyes to the rest of the group and walking off. 

"Is she okay? Did something happen between her and Professor Choi?" Felix cocks up a brow. "Is there something going on?"

"Nah." Jiung says, plopping down onto a chair. It's easy to see he's defeated, and it's easy to pick up on the mood change. Eunchae and Felix quietly sit around, sipping on the last bits of their drinks before setting the cans aside and scrolling through social media to talk about random things—

Just to let the weirdness pass.

On the other hand, San can see you from where he's standing and he feels his stomach drop. He doesn't wanna see you walk alone, he doesn't wanna be this way with you, he doesn't want Jiung to get upset or make things worse for you.

He doesn't know what to do.

"Maybe we should head out." Jongho chimes in, watching San text away.

"In a sec."

san: y/n, don't walk alone. where are your friends?

you: staying behind.

san: you want me to pick you up?

you: no. i think i should stay home.

san: baby, we need to talk about this.

you: and it won't be tonight. i think we both just need to step back and take a breather, okay? too many things happened and i just need to be in my own space.

san: did you and jiung fight?

you: i'll talk to you later.

san: baby, come on.

Because it's true— this was getting sloppier and even though you could care less, you needed to think. Do better. Be better about this with San.

Though, you're scared and you know it's about to unravel quick. Tonight definitely didn't help that case whatsoever.

You just needed a moment away from everyone.

—read 10.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme

[baisemains]

Elements of Desire

Chapter 1: Freaks & Geeks

single mom!sevika x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

contains: fluff! just a meet cute really, timebomb as a plot device, age gap technically (reader is early 30’s)

description: your newest student clashing with your brightest might be the best thing that ever happened to you.

ao3 link | spotify playlist

next // sevika masterlist

It was a normal Thursday morning and you were on your way to your chemistry classroom, already late to prep for your first class when your phone beeps. Hearing the tell-tale ring of Outlook, you know it’s something important so you pull it out of your pocket and see that the school secretary has emailed you.

‘New student being added to your first period, updating your roster now.’'

You internally groan, you’ve officially hit max occupancy for the year and it’s only the first week of October.

Taking a deep breath, you reach your classroom and quickly start to put your things in the corner behind your desk before your students start arriving.

Hearing footsteps, you look up and see one of your favorite students, Ekko, walking in.

“Hey dude, ready for today’s quiz?”

He smiles at you, both of you already knowing the answer. Ekko is the top student in your class by a mile, you’ve got no worries when it comes to him.

“Of course, teach, when have I ever let you down?”

You laugh and go back to pulling out your materials for the day.

The rest of your class files in within the next few minutes, and you’re just about to start the day’s lesson when there’s a gentle knock on the door.

Walking over, you open the door confused and see a blue haired girl standing there, nervously twiddling with the straps of her backpack.

“Hi, I’m Powder, they told me this was my first period…?”

You school your face and usher her inside, smiling as she stands at the front of the class, unsure of what to do.

“Everybody, this is Powder, our new student. Make sure you help her out if she needs it, alright?”

Murmurs of agreement float around the room as you turn to Powder.

“Follow me, I’m gonna introduce you to your lab partner.”

You walk her to the very back row of tables and stop next to Ekko’s station.

“Powder, meet Ekko. Ekko, meet Powder, your new partner.”

Ekko looks up from where he was writing in his notebook and furrows his eyebrows.

“…What do you mean, my new partner? I thought you said I could go without one this year.”

“I did, before the district filled up my class and left me no choice.”

“That’s not fair! A partner is just gonna slow me down, I’m gonna have to help her and do my work!”

Ekko starts to plead his case with you, but you hear Powder shuffle behind you and you’re not having it.

“Hey. I know it’s not an ideal situation, dude, but we’ve gotta work with what we’ve got. Give her a chance before you say anything else, alright?”

You raise an eyebrow at him and his shoulders slump, knowing you’re right. He never could really be mad at his favorite teacher.

“Okay, teach, my bad.”

He clears his stuff off of the chair next to him and you gesture for Powder to sit down.

“I’ll be right back with an assessment, okay? Let’s see where your chemistry skills are at.”

You leave the two of them and walk back to your desk to grab a general knowledge test so you can gauge where Powder sits in relation to the rest of your class. You hope she’s at least got the basics down or you’ll really feel bad for making her Ekko’s partner.

Heading over and giving it to her, you tell her to take as long as she needs while you hand out the planned quiz to everyone else.

While the kids are doing that, you sit at your desk and start grading assignments from last class. You’ve barely gotten through a handful when Powder walks up to your desk. Assuming she needs help, you look up at her and smile.

“What’s up Powder?”

Her eyes flicker between you and your computer as she chews on her lip.

“Um, I…finished my test.”

You blink at her. Glancing at your clock, it’s barely been fifteen minutes when it should’ve taken her at least thirty, and that’s comparing it to your brightest students.

Smiling softly to not make her so nervous, you put your hand out and ask to see it.

Scanning it over, you’re in shock. Every answer seems correct so far and all her work is accounted for. You wonder for a second if Ekko had helped her but quickly shot down that thought when you remember how reluctant he was to have a lab partner.

“Powder, this looks…perfect. Have you taken chemistry before?”

She lets out a shy smile as she answers.

“No, I just really like math.”

The gears in your head begin to turn as you realize you may have a star student on your hands.

“That’s great to hear! You think you’d feel comfortable taking today’s quiz? It covers the last couple units we’ve been working on.”

Her smile broadens at that.

“Yeah, that sounds okay.”

By the end of class, Powder’s successfully caught up to the rest of the kids and is starting to become an active participant, much to Ekko’s chagrin.

The next couple weeks of classes pass by quickly, and a new rivalry begins to bloom between Ekko and Powder.

At first, you thought it was just friendly competition between partners but you soon realize it’s more than that.

One day, you hear bickering from the back of the classroom and see Powder trying to reach for a test tube Ekko is holding.

The closer you get, the better you understand them when you hear Ekko yell, “I don’t need your help with this, you’re just gonna jinx me!”

As he says that, he leans back and begins to tilt the test tube directly over the boy standing at the next station.

Almost as if in slow motion, you immediately leap forward and push him out of the way as the liquid pours onto the ground and sizzles.

The entire class goes silent as you stand there staring at your two best students, feeling the smoke pour out of your ears.

The dam finally breaks as you loudly scold them both about safety guidelines and the hazards of the chemicals they’re dealing with.

They have the decency to look embarrassed and apologize to their classmate when you tell them that you’ll be contacting their parents.

Both of them look at you in horror and beg you not to, but your mind is already made up and you head to your desk to email their parents about a conference as soon as possible.

Ekko’s parents are able to meet that evening, a lovely couple that you met at Back To School Night, who apologize profusely for their son’s actions.

You tell them how you’re not going to go too hard on their son because he’s usually your best student and you know this isn’t typical behavior from him, although you do expect him to clean up his act.

Ekko sincerely apologizes and you nod, shooting him a quick smile to let him know you accept.

They thank you for your time and promise that he will no longer be a problem in class, whisking him out of the room with a large hand gripping the back of his neck.

The next night, you’re set to meet Powder’s mom as she was busy the previous one.

Having zero idea what to expect, her very curt reply to your email asking to meet didn’t leave you a whole lot to work with.

You just hope she’s not one of those parents who expect the teacher to be their kid’s only disciplinarian, you have enough of those already.

It’s nearing five o’ clock, the designated time for your meeting so you start organizing your desk a bit, not wanting anyone to think you’re a slob.

As you’re facing away from the entrance, you hear a gentle knock from the doorway and as you turn around to face your visitors, you wish you had googled the name from your email.

The last thing you’d imagined Powder’s mom to be was the hottest woman you’d ever seen, but you remind yourself she was still a parent you needed to talk to, so before you think about it too much, you wave them over.

“Please come in, both of you.”

Powder walks in first, sheepish with her hands behind her back.

Her mom follows, and your eyes trace over her face, having to look up the closer she gets.

You notice her thick eyebrows, slightly furrowed at the moment, framing her daunting grey eyes. Short black hair caresses her face, threatening to hide it from view. Her nose is prominent, and you decide how well it suits her. She also has a labret piercing, which draws your attention to her thick lips, currently situated into a closed half smile.

You don’t even realize you’re looking at her mouth until she starts talking.

“Sevika, Powder’s mom.”

Her large hand stretches out towards you and when you slip your hand into hers, it takes a good amount of effort to not shake it for longer than necessary.

It’s surprisingly soft, even with all of the calluses you can feel, and pleasantly warm. You wonder if she was wearing gloves to protect them from the chilly fall air outside or if she's just blessed with good genes.

Introducing yourself as well, you remove your hand from hers and drop it to your side, already feeling like you’re missing something.

Now looking between the two, you think that Powder is maybe adopted – or looks like her dad, you dreadfully think to yourself – because she doesn’t bear any resemblance to the Amazon in front of you.

Before you can say anything else, the woman in front of you takes a step back and nudges Powder’s shoulder before stuffing both of her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket.

“Go ahead, tell her.”

Your eyes flick up to Sevika, who’s smirking at her daughter and you quickly look back down before you catch her eye.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately, I never meant to let it go that far. I promise to lock in and be the student you deserve,” Powder declares with watery eyes, looking down at the floor when she’s done talking.

Pressing your lips together to contain your laugh, you close your eyes for a couple of seconds to gather yourself, finally opening them to see that Sevika is looking right at you.

Breaking the eye contact and clearing your throat, you look down at the girl in front of you and lay your hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you for apologizing Powder, it means a lot. I know you have what it takes to be an amazing student, you’ve been doing it this whole time. You just gotta quit the stuff with Ekko.”

She looks up at you at that, a defiant glint in her eye.

“You got it, teach,” she tells you through gritted teeth.

You giggle at her response, and then remember something else you wanted to bring up in this meeting, gesturing for both of them to sit at the station in the front row.

Grabbing a flyer from your desk, you walk back over and set it down in front of Sevika.

“So there’s a science fair coming up in the spring, and I think Powder should enter.”

Two pairs of eyes look up at you with matching lifted eyebrows, and for the first time tonight, you see a resemblance.

After laughing in your head, you continue on with your explanation.

“It’s open to all high schoolers in the state, and there’s a cash prize for the top three students; $10,000 for third, $25,000 for second, and $50,000 for first.”

Sevika’s eyes widen, letting her stoic mask slip for the first time tonight.

“The idea is to give them a head start on a college fund, but because the prize pool is so large, they require applications to even be able to conduct an actual project. They only accept the top 1,000 submissions, and then they cut it down to 100, but I really feel like Powder has a shot.”

You look between the two sitting in front you, gauging reactions.

Sevika chews the inside of her cheek as she glares at the flyer in front of her.

The first thing that enters her mind is just how life changing that money would be.

Powder's never wanted for anything, but it's also been a struggle to give her the best life Sevika feels she deserves, especially being a single mother.

'...50 grand for first place, huh?"

Sevika looks over the flyer skeptically for a few beats longer before passing it to Powder, who looks like she's about to faint from excitement.

You rub your hand on the back of your neck, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed for just throwing the idea out there like that.

Sevika's grey eyes flick back over to you after observing her daughter for a couple seconds.

"How much work is a project like this gonna require?"

Breathing an internal sigh of relief, you feel like you have a shot to convince her.

“It is gonna take up most of her free time, until the spring, I won’t lie, but if she can pull this off, it’ll all be worth it.”

Sevika lets out a scoff at that, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back in her chair.

"So I'm just supposed to let her spend months at your beck and call? No way, I-"

Powder suddenly slams her palm on the table before Sevika can protest further.

"Pleaseee, mom?”

Sevika looks down at her daughter, eyes narrowing at being cut off.

"This could seriously change my life, our life, and I promise it won't get in the way of my school work. I won't let you down.”

Sevika’s demeanor softens at that, seeing Powder’s determination reminds her of herself in a way.

After a few seconds of silence, Sevika turns back to where you’re standing and pierces you with a look.

“I’m not saying yes. I’ll think about it, but I do want you to send me more information about this thing.”

You nod fervently, grabbing the flyer and ripping a piece off the bottom to jot your number onto it.

Passing it to Sevika, you smile warmly.

“Of course, that sounds great. You’ll have my number if you need anything.”

She takes the slip, briefly touching your fingertips as she pulls it away, your cheeks heating up at the contact.

You look down at Powder, and she’s almost in tears with excitement.

Sevika rises from her chair and motions for Powder to follow as she stands in front of you.

“I’m serious about what I said. I want every bit of information you have on this, and then I’ll consider my answer.”

To punctuate her sentence, she sticks her hand out for another handshake, and this time, you grip her palm with the same energy she’s giving you, determined to show her that you’re serious about this.

“Of course, Sevika. You have my word.”

Her mouth twitches up into a small smile when you say her name, deciding she likes the way it sounds.

You notice her small gap for the first time, and feel a little swirl in your stomach.

“We’ll be in touch then, miss. Powder, let’s go babe, I gotta grab your sister and get dinner started.”

She drops your hand – slowly, you realize – and the two of them leave out the way they came, Powder clutching the flyer in hand and waving at you as they disappear from your sight.

Taking a seat in your desk chair, you start drafting up an email with more information about the science fair to Sevika, not wanting to waste any time.

It's almost an hour later when you're finally done detailing everything Sevika needs to know, and once you hit send, you lean back in your chair and finally let out the breath you'd been holding in.

The whole interaction left you feeling a bit frazzled, but not in a bad way.

You couldn't stop thinking about Sevika's face, the crinkle in her eyebrows whenever she looked at you, her eyes boring holes into your very soul.

Really, you can't help but be a bit frustrated at the fact you hadn't been able to stop staring at her the entire time, wondering what's wrong with you for thirsting over one of your students' moms.

With an annoyed groan, you rub your face to hopefully snap yourself out of it and pack up your things to leave for the night, thoughts occupied by this new character in your life.

[tinkerbellknockoff]

chemistry // jinx x fem!reader

chemistry // college!jinx x fem!reader

you've never been the greatest at sciences- you were aware of that. being placed into general chemistry to fulfill a lab requirement for college forced you to face your fears: writing lab reports and talking to pretty teacher assistants.

- college au

warnings: cursing

-- a/n: gonna be slightly projecting when talking about how bad reader is at chemistry lol

you thought the cliche chemistry professor that made absolutely no sense was only for the movies. but sitting here on a stool, watching the professor measure and start mixing chemicals that you couldn't even catch the name of made you flabbergasted and honestly- a little bit annoyed.

at your university, you were required to take one semester of a laboratory class. that's only about what- four months? you thought that was going to be a breeze- just get it out of the way, and you'll never have to touch a science class again! hopefully.

it had been about two-ish weeks of your general chemistry class, and by whatever is holy... you were miserable. unfortunately for you, your lab partner seemed to be on the same wavelength as you: massively confused. which, in a way, could be comforting because hey- you're not alone! on the other hand... your grades are screwed. and, unfortunately, you actually cared about your gpa.

the second half of your misery came from the fact you loathed asking for help. throughout high school, it was a breeze being able to figure out solutions to all of your problems, but now... you basically had to find every single resource that could help you. and, unfortunately, none of them did. you've never felt more lost in your life, which is how you have led to your position now.

slipping your backpack over your right shoulder, you then lightly draped your lab coat over your arm as you walked up to your chemistry professor. you decided it was finally time for you to ask for help- and by god, did it take some encouragement. there were still a few stragglers in the room- there being the professor, you, a couple of your peers, and the gorgeous blue-haired teacher assistant.

her name was jinx. she was recommended by another chemistry professor- professor silco, if you remember his name right- which gave her the job opportunity to ta a few general chemistry classes. honestly, she had helped you out a couple of times- she was a saint.

on the other hand, she terrified the living hell out of you. jinx, in the simple two weeks that you have spent in this general chemistry lab (two times per week, so maybe four times in the lab total) showed how... chaotic she was. in the first class, she was idly lounging around in random spots of the classroom, sitting on tables with littered chemical substances, and playing with one of the bottles in her hands. you remember, in that class, she seemed bored since it was simply laboratory rules and basics- but ever since the class started doing experiments? she seemed like the happiest girl in the world.

the professor made pretty basic explanations to questions he was asked- he was a little sassy, though. he'd say your name repeatedly, chastising you, then go, "haha! i am joking. wasn't that funny?"

... no. it was never funny.

then jinx. she would quickly prance to you the second you had your hand raised, entering your personal space as she would begin rapidly explaining, and would sometimes even begin doing the experiment for you. you loved it when that happened. honestly, even throughout that chaotic nature, she would explain things decently well. she talked a lot, but she was still able to deliver her understanding pretty well. you admired her for that.

even though she was incredibly helpful, in all honesty- you hated when she would be the one to come after you raised your hand.

she was too pretty. you couldn't focus.

"well, toots," is how she would always begin the explanation for you. you couldn't quite catch if she called literally anyone else that, but it was almost humorous how she always started off with those two words. you almost felt special. then, it would be how she'd lightly grab your hips to move you out of her way so she'd be able to access the experiment better- and even with you on the side, her side would still be brushing yours.

when she spoke, she never spoke to both you and your lab partner. her pink eyes seemed to stare you down. you were too scared to break the eye contact, and the more you reciprocated the staring the more entertained she seemed to be, her violet eyes swirling. you couldn't take it.

that happened every. single. time.

and every single time you felt like you were going to burst.

so, talking to the professor, you hoped to god he would just offer his office hours.

"hello, professor," you spoke, eventually standing in front of his desk, and he turned to look at you. he gave a smile (a little bit chaotic, you thought this profession was great for him), and he said your name in greeting.

"how can i help you?"

"i was hoping there would be some sort of office hours i could go to..." you spoke, swallowing your pride, "i was looking for some help with the lab reports and saw that your office hours were for request only."

he hummed in acknowledgment, giving you an understanding look, "okay. have you checked the tutoring center?"

you nodded, "yeah. all of the open tutoring sessions for gen chem are all when i have other classes."

"that sucks a ton, toots."

her voice came out of what seemed like nowhere. the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, but you kept your seemingly relaxed demeanor as you turned your head into her direction, her eyes automatically locking onto yours. she already had a chaotic grin on her face, her pink eyes swirling with entertainment, "i could help ya out."

the professor seemed to not care for jinx's bubbly behavior, "could you, jinx? your times would possibly be more flexible than mine."

.... fuck.

jinx eagerly nodded, "don't worry about it. would be an honor to give a pretty girl some help!"

was that appropriate to say?

the professor didn't have a care in the world as he thanked jinx, and then waved you two off, telling them to go schedule times to be able to meet, and giving the reassurance that he would be able to for extra support if you needed it.

you walked out of the lab, jinx seeming hot on your tail. she loosely grabbed her bag along the way, it hanging off her shoulder in a similar fashion to yours. eventually, in the hallway, you turned to face her properly. all you had to do was schedule some times, leave, eventually actually do the meetings, then bam! you're done! don't have to be threatened by a pretty girl no longer!

"so, toots. wanna talk about times over dinner?" jinx winked at you.

you had to take a sharp inhale after that. oh my gosh? was this professional? was this allowed? you don't think she cared. at all, actually.

"cat got your tongue?" jinx looked amused at your silence, her violet eyes staring at your expression, looking like a deer in headlights. "you're very expressive."

you cleared your throat, deciding to ignore that comment. takes one to know one. eventually, you found your words, "... fine. right now?"

you got it! look, you can talk to her. nice and easy!

her entertained expression and grin never left her face as she nodded her head, her bright blue hair bouncing in the movement. "i mean, when else could i possibly catch ya?"

"i dunno, email exists." you retort, you don't see her the reason for her to insist on going out to dinner to make plans.

"boring!" jinx continued grinning at you. doesn't her face ever start to hurt, "we can just go to the dining hall! c'mon, toots, don't be a snoozefest."

and to that, you finally caved in. her excitement seemed to elevate even more than it originally was as she started to basically bounce off the walls (not really, you're being dramatic), grabbing your hand. you were practically yanked, having to hold the lab coat in your arm tighter to make sure it didn't get dropped on the way. she energetically spoke to you the entire way, effortlessly guiding you, not caring if you were stumbling at any moment. you were surprised her relatively small statue had this much muscle. she was acting like she took 5 shots of expresso and did a line of coke.

hopefully, she didn't actually do that.

she kept rambling your head off as you both waited in line for your food. your dining hall offered an assortment of shops, which led you to get pasta, and right now you were waiting in line for the burger shop next to jinx. she eventually let your hand go, but you noticed over time that she always was touching you in some fashion. right now, her bicep was brushing against yours, her head tilted in your direction as she rambled on about some sort of engineering project she had taken up. you learned through her talking that she was a biochemical engineering major. so, basically, she was super smart. you're a psychology major, which caused her to erupt in a small fit of laughter when you told her,

"so what are you doing in chemistry, toots?! why not take like... i dunno, meteorology!"

that elicited a pout from you, scoffing, causing jinx to look at you with amusement in her eyes as she laughed harder, "you're so funny, toots! i couldn't get enough of you."

she was proving her statement.

you and jinx ate dinner together, and after some coaxing of the conversation, you got her to agree to a few study sessions over the next couple of months. every other sunday you two would meet up at the library, and have about a two-hour session covering the content from the prior two weeks. that sounded fair enough. you didn't know if two hours was necessary, but jinx insisted, believing that was the "sure way to shove everything into your noggin". you were humored by her wording of it.

even after you both had long finished your food, she insisted on sitting with you for a little bit longer, claiming that she was having the time of her life getting to know you. her behavior made you so flushed- but you tried your damned hardest to refrain from it showing. you tried desperately to act nonchalant, which jinx continuously called your bluff on, leading you to be super defensive, to which she would continue to tease you more.

"c'mon, toots!" jinx giggled. she was sitting across from you at a table, her elbow resting on top and her hand holding her head as she kept her other hand on the table, tapping her nails rhythmically, "tell me more about ya."

you were reclined back, slightly hunched in the seat as you hummed thoughtfully. your arms were crossed in front of you, which jinx found humorous. she could tell you were still a little bit shy.

"what do you want to know?" you humored jinx.

"anything. anything at all, as long as it's about you," jinx winked in your direction, her eyes never once leaving your direction, "... any... boyfriend?"

that question startled you. your eyes met hers once more. she was lightly chewing on the bottom of her lip, her eyes basically devouring you as she waited for your answer in anticipation. jinx's breath basically hitched in her throat with excitement as you shook your head,

"no. broke up with my girlfriend before college."

jinx clearly seemed giddy after your statement, only a blind man wouldn't be able to tell. you examined her behavior after, blinking, your thoughts finally catching up to you.

holy shit. you basically felt yourself erupt into flames, could she like me?

"aww, damn, toots!" jinx said, but the sympathy rolling off her tongue was feigned, "that sucks. any reason why?"

you shrugged, sitting up and fixing your posture, folding your elbows onto the table and leaning forward. "wasn't a good fit. you live and you learn, i guess. what can you do?"

jinx understood, her thoughts racing with pure excitement. jinx realized she had a chance- and she wasn't the one to let chances slip up.

so, for the next couple of months, she used the tutoring sessions as an excuse to get to know you. she would claim every half hour that you two had to take a break, and then ask you questions about your day, your week, and everything that could come to mind. you warmed up to her behavior, which made her feel so elated- you began to reciprocate all of her talking. she loved talking to you.

so, when your last session came, jinx was bummed. jinx stared at you longingly, which you didn't seem to notice as you flipped through the data you had gathered during your most recent lab, scanning between it and the lab report, making sure that you didn't miss anything important. you, with the help of jinx, were doing stellar in chemistry. you couldn't have thanked jinx more.

you brought your bag up onto your lap to grab a few folders, slipping the papers inside, packing up. jinx continued to stare at you longingly, her pink eyes unusually soft as she stared you down. eventually, you glanced up, meeting her eyes. she quickly changed her expression, looking more neutral.

"jinx, i really thank you enough," you spoke up, her heart soaring at the praise. but that elation dropped as she saw you stand up, causing her to quickly follow behind, moving to walk beside you as you two began to leave the library.

"it was really nothing, toots. what was i meant to do, let a pretty girl like you fail?"

those words sounded like something she said at the very beginning of all this. that caused a laugh to slip out of your lips as you bumped your shoulder gently with hers. she pushed the door open for the two of you, the cold winter air hitting the two of you in a gust.

walking a little further away from the door, you two stopped and stared at each other for a moment. jinx for once felt the words catch in her throat as her eyes met yours. you looked so cute, your nose slightly turning red from the winter air hitting your face.

you noticed her gaze. her pupils were blown as she was dead silent, something very uncharacteristic for jinx, causing you to examine her eyes with yours. when she noticed this, she met your gaze, both of you seeming to devour each other with your eyes, before you cleared your throat.

"so, this is it, huh?" you sheepishly giggle, holding onto the straps of your side satchel. your words, as corny as it is to say, almost broke jinx's heart on the spot then. it was just tutoring- why did she feel like it was the end of the world?

"... i hope it's not." jinx spoke, her voice abnormally quiet. your eyebrows rose at her unusual demeanor, your head tilting and causing your hair to flow to the side. jinx's eyes looked over every single one of your movements, absolutely infatuated with the way you moved- the way you were you.

no one had ever been any more perfect in her eyes.

"how do you mean?"

jinx cleared her throat, "would it be bad if i did something right now? that... you may or you may not like?"

your eyebrows furrowed at the question. what the hell did that mean? but, as your lips parted, you weren't given the option to question her as she grabbed the sides of your face with her clammy and cold hands, smashing her lightly chapped lips against your soft ones.

the kiss was startling for you, your eyes open wide in shock, being able to see the way that jinx so harshly had her eyes closed, her hands keeping you right against her. as if you would slip through her fingers. so, after finding your bearings, you finally closed your eyes, relaxing as you began to reciprocate the kiss.

jinx felt like she was on cloud nine, holding you as tightly as possible against her. your lips tasted like heaven to her, her being able to taste the chapstick that she saw you always use, one that she always watched glaze over your lips. she was doing what she fantasized about doing for so fucking long.

and to her excitement, you were kissing her back.

after a few moments, she parted the kiss panting. both of your eyes fluttered open as you both lightly panted, small puffs of white smoke leaving your mouths. you locked eyes with hers, both of your pupils blown wide. you were both impossibly close to each other, allowing you to hear jinx's faint whisper,

"i like you," her eyes scanned over your face, "a lot."

a laugh left your mouth. she loved hearing your laugh- but in this context, it almost made her petrified until she saw the bright smile that was on your lips.

"i like you, too."