#i just sent my opt-out email earlier this morning

[milfmuses]

Sleepy Showers

A/N: Hi hornies! I wrote this fic randomly and thought I should serve the sapphics more delicious Larissa content. Please make sure to read the warnings, and as always, feel free to leave comments and suggestions! Many thanks to the wonderful @weemssapphic​ for yet another beta read. Your kindness is overwhelmingly appreciated.

Larissa Weems x femreader

Summary: A morning shower turns into a steamy session when Larissa decides to shapeshift her most intimate parts...

Warnings: fluff, smut, g!p Larissa, Reader receiving, handjob, penetration, creampie

As you wake, the comforting weight of your lover’s arm over your torso almost lulls you back to sleep. However, you need to begin the day and get ready for work. You are a teacher at Nevermore, one that Larissa found herself infatuated with. You obviously returned her feelings. Things blossomed quickly after she gained the courage to ask you out on a date. Over time, your love for each other grew and now you both have a shared studio living area in the staff wing of the school. Your relationship can only be described as sweet, romantic, and loving. You find joy in the little things, always bringing Larissa flowers to brighten up her office, and buying her favorite lipstick when you notice it running low. She enjoys sneaking into your room between classes to bring food and sometimes you’ll return to your apartment, immediately noticing the envelope that you know contains a love letter she writes with passion. You even set aside time each week to have a special dinner or date night, usually opting for a nice restaurant, spending time afterward in the comfort of your bed watching movies, and then making love. Life is wonderful, and Larissa has brought you happiness beyond anything you’ve felt before.

Rolling over slowly, you face the woman of your dreams. Her blonde curls are tousled from sleep, her pale skin glowing in the morning light, and her plump lips stained a faint red hue from her daily choice of lipstick. The steady rising and falling of her chest accompanied by soft breaths brings you peace as you gaze upon your partner with nothing but awe and adoration.

Not wanting to interrupt her slumber, you place a gentle kiss on her forehead and begin lifting her arm away from your waist. Before you can roll back over and rise from the bed, a deep inhale sounds from beside you. You watch as Larissa’s eyes open and she groggily blinks away her exhaustion. Bright blue eyes peer into your own, the corners crinkling as a smile overtakes her face seeing your state of sleepiness.

“Good morning my love, are you heading to the shower?”

“Good morning angel, yes I’ve gotta get ready earlier today since I have a meeting with a student about a project before my first class.”

Larissa pouts when you mention having to leave bed early, wanting you to stay in the warmth of her arms for a while longer.

“I know you are being grumpy but you look so cute! Here, let me check my phone in case to confirm with the student.”

You roll over and pick up your phone from the nightstand, opening your emails and finding a new message sent just before midnight.

Hi Ms. L/N,

I started feeling sick tonight and will have to miss the meeting tomorrow morning. Maybe I can find a time to meet with you tomorrow if I feel better. Sorry for the late notice, I will keep you updated and let you know my availability for a rescheduled meeting time.

Thank you

Your face lights up knowing that you now have a free morning with the goddess of a woman next to you.

“Good news Riss! Well, I mean not technically good news since my student is out sick, but we have the morning to ourselves!”

Instantly, Larissa’s face brightens and she yanks you back over to her in a messy hug. 

“Thank goodness, how could I ever be deprived of my darling girl?”

You laugh and pull away, an idea forming in your head for a fun morning plan.

“Would you want to take a shower with me? You know how much I love holding you in the water especially now that you had a second shower head installed to keep us both warm.”

That stunning grin you absolutely adore beams back at you and she kisses your cheek affectionately.

“Of course I would, sleepy showers are the best with you, my dear.”

Both of you roll over to your respective sides of the bed, standing hesitantly on tired legs from just having woken up. Larissa winks at you and sways her hips teasingly as she makes her way over to the bathroom. You shake your head playfully at her antics, but don’t pass up the chance to ogle her round ass sitting perfectly in her pajama pants. Following her in a trance, you wince as your feet hit the cold bathroom tile. She gingerly opens the shower door and turns on the water, steam beginning to fog up the frosted glass as it heats up.

“My sleepy girl, let’s get you undressed for me. You know how much I love taking off your clothes…”

With a smirk, your girlfriend lifts the hem of your shirt, your stomach immediately reacting with goosebumps to the temperature. Your breasts fall into place, nipples standing hard against the chilly air. Larissa takes a second to bite her lip in arousal but pulls the shirt completely off your body.

“My my, someone appears a bit cold. Don’t worry, I’ll get you warmed up and take care of those gorgeous breasts.”

You blush at her flirtatious words and bring your arms over your bare chest, trying to heat up your freezing skin.

“Well, it’s only fair that you take care of what’s yours…”

She chuckles at your response, loving how you put up with her mischief and always play along. As to not keep you in the cold for too long, she lowers the waistband of your pants and lets the loose pajamas fall to the floor. You swear you felt a hand brush against your mound when she lifted her arms back up as she stood straight but you ignore it for now, impatient to get in the hot water.

“May I undress you too Rissa? Or should I get in now and wait for you there?”

“Why don’t you go ahead and step in love? I see you shivering, my poor angel. I’ll be quick, I want to spend every second I have giving you affection.”

With a pink hue gracing your cheeks, you shuffle over to the shower and step through the door. Marble walls stretch upwards, and white warm flooring is now comfortable against your feet compared to the harsh tile on the other side of the blurred glass that faces the rest of the bathroom. A bench attached to the wall has an assortment of soaps and gels neatly arranged in the corner. An instant sigh of relaxation and ease leaves your mouth, your body melting under the steady stream. 

Through the clouded glass, you make out the distinct shape of your lover removing her clothes. Her head tilts back as her shirt falls to the floor and the silhouette of her perky breasts makes your breath catch in your throat. She bends down and takes off her pants, revealing the supple swell of her ass that compliments her long silken thighs. 

Closing your eyes and bringing your hands to smooth back your now-soaked hair, you hear the door open and shut. You open your eyes and take in the sight of your naked girlfriend which freezes your body entirely. 

“Like what you see?”

“You know I do. Now come here before I eat you alive, you sexy woman.”

With a chuckle, Larissa steps forward and takes you in her arms. Her chest presses against yours, the squish making your cheeks deepen to a scarlet color. Her tall frame causes your face to rest against her shoulder, tender lips finding the top of your head.

Standing there silently, her arms wrapped around you in safety and comfort, with her soft skin against yours and nothing but love swirling around your brain is heaven. After staying still, savoring the beautiful moment, you feel her hand inch lower until it finds your butt. She gives it a squeeze, not missing how your breath hitches and you push your hips back into her hand. 

“Darling, how are you so incredibly divine? You have no idea how badly I want to engrave the image of you in my mind to keep forever. Luckily, I have you all to myself for however long you’ll allow me.”

Leaning back you stare up at her with adoring eyes, capturing those blue orbs that always have you mesmerized.

“My love, you have me forever. My heart belongs to you and I will cherish yours until the end of time. I love you Larissa.”

Her eyes observe you with total fondness, sincerity in her voice as she speaks.

“I love you too darling, you will be treated like a princess because that is what you are to me. If you want a kiss? You’ll have one. Maybe cuddles? Of course, my arms are open and eager. If you want me to worship you? Well, I will already be doing that as usual.”

You giggle and bring your hand to the back of her head, gently pushing her down towards your lips for a sweet kiss. Her mouth moves in tandem with your own, passion entangled in the way she pulls your bottom lip between her teeth and tugs, emitting a moan and then releasing it to use her tongue to explore. Your body tingles and your core throbs, the sloppy sounds of the kiss and how she hungrily devours your mouth turning you on severely. Pulling away to gasp for air, Larissa pouts with a whine.

“Rissa love, you’re making me squirm. Would you want to…?”

With a proud grin, Larissa seductively peers down at you, causing chills to run up your spine.

“Normally I would make you use your words, but I really want to try something this morning and I want to make sure you are comfortable with it.”

Your eyebrow raises in question, not knowing what she could possibly be thinking of.

“My love, I was hoping to use my shapeshifting abilities to… change my lower half. Would you be okay with letting me fuck you with a real cock? It’s just an idea and as always, we will never do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

The idea intrigues you and in your mind, the picture of Larissa fucking you with reddened cheeks from how you feel around her drives you wild. Not to mention, being filled by not only her cock, but her cum as well is something you’ve been fantasizing about. 

“Yes! I mean- yes, Rissa, I would really love that. I love you and I want you to feel every part of me, including the deepest parts that will bring you pleasure.”

Releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding in, your girlfriend excitedly hugs you and whispers in your ear.

“Good thing I know exactly which strap you love the most. I’ll just shift my cock to match exactly how you like it.”

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, you continue resting in her embrace as she shifts. You gasp as something rubs at your lower belly and you turn beet-red knowing what it is. Larissa groans when her cock grows against your body, the length squeezing between your smooth stomachs. Tilting your head back to watch her reactions, you hear a whimper and widen your eyes at how adorable yet sexy she is. Larissa pants as her hips softly rock to rub herself against you. Her eyes are shut tightly and rosy cheeks flush as small whimpers continuously exit her open mouth.

“Does that feel good baby? You look so pretty rubbing yourself against me. I feel how hard you are oh god- let me help you, sweet girl.”

Her eyes meet yours and she yelps as your hand grasps her hardness. 

“Are you sensitive, my love? Poor baby, I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Speechless in both exhilaration and overwhelming emotion, she intently focuses on your face. Your hand starts moving up and down, jerking her off with delicate strokes. Her breaths stutter and it takes an immense amount of effort for her hips to not fuck up into your hand.

“L-Love, yes god- feels… so good. Darling- I- I love you-”

With a sensual smile, you lean forward and capture her lips with your own. She whimpers into your mouth as your hand rubs her cock lovingly. Your pussy throbs and drips uncontrollably, her angelic sounds fueling the fire in your lower belly. 

“I love you too Rissa, are you ready to fuck me? Is that what you want baby?”

“Ye-yes please Y/N, please I need you-”

Her begging spurs on your dominance. Larissa typically takes on the dominant role but these moments when she is submissive and needy melt your heart.

“Okay love, I’ve got you. I’ve got you pretty baby.”

She shudders when you remove your hand. Turning around, you press your ass back into her, making her groan with her cock now pushed between your cheeks. You smirk to yourself and bend forward, presenting your backside to her. You lift a foot up and place it on the bench. Your cunt is soaked and Larissa is hypnotized, her cock throbbing and twitching, completely aroused by your bare ass and dripping arousal.

“Go ahead Riss, I know you can’t resist…”

Not hesitating and more than ready to enter you, she lines herself up with your sopping hole and pushes in.

“Oh fuck!”

She moans obscenely and grips your hips hard, the way your walls take her in and tightly clench around her length makes it hard to hold back. If she wasn’t so determined to fuck you as you deserve, she would have come as soon as she bottomed out. The stretch feels delicious, her warm cock filling you entirely. It feels similar to your favorite strapon, but there are obvious differences like the soft warmth of her skin and the way you can feel each subtle twitch and throb inside of you.

“Larissa- oh my god- please fuck me.”

Your lover immediately pulls out, leaving about an inch inside, and then thrusts back in. Her hips pound into you hungrily and she grunts with exertion and effort holding back her approaching climax. 

“Yes! Fuck me- god yes!”

“Yeah? You like that- darling? Take- ngh- take it baby-”

Wet slaps of her hips against your backside sound throughout the steamy shower and you brace yourself against the wall with your hands. Your breasts swing back and forth, matching the rhythm of her thrusts. She leans forward and kisses your back, nipping and sucking marks onto your skin while still gripping your hip with one hand and groping your tits with the other. Her hips lose rhythm and you recognize how her breathing gets shallow and her moans increase in pitch. She is getting close and so are you. Nearing the edge, you need a push to reach your orgasm. Luckily, your girlfriend knows your body well enough.

“Darling- I’m gonna- I’m close, please- I want you to cum with me- mmm ngh-”

She reaches the hand clinging onto your breasts down and parts your lips to find your swollen clit. Two fingers circle the sensitive nub expertly.

“Baby- fuck! Rissa gonna- cumming-”

Intense waves of pleasure overtake your body as your orgasm washes over you. Your walls flutter and tighten, causing Larissa to thrust once more and release herself. A strangled moan departs her mouth, and her pulsing cock shoots hot cum deep inside of you. Her entire body feels rapturous as she quietly mutters “I love you” over and over. Coming down from your highs, you both pant heavily and she rests her weight on top of you. She stays inside, loving how she keeps you full of her cum with throbs of post-orgasm bliss. Once you come back down from paradise and catch your breath, Larissa speaks softly.

“I’m going to pull out, darling- I’ll go slow and you let me know if anything hurts or is uncomfortable.”

Her cock carefully inches out, you wince at the emptiness but love how cum leaks out of you. Larissa watches in awe as white juices plop onto the shower floor, your cunt looks beyond alluring. 

“Good job my love, you did so well! I’m so proud of you. Thank you for letting me do that, I cannot even begin to describe how much I loved it.”

Surprisingly, she becomes shy and you turn your head to see her looking down trying to hide the obvious blush on her gorgeous face. 

“Thank you for fucking me like that Riss, I definitely want to do it again sometime. I enjoyed it more than you know.”

You set your foot down and straighten your back at the same time, rotating around to face the love of your life. Larissa studies your exhaustion and sexily disheveled post-orgasm state. Your chest rises and falls steadily. Cum now slides down your thighs and red marks adorn your hips from where she gripped you. You are the most beautiful woman she has ever seen, and at this moment, she can barely function seeing you like this. 

“You are so beautiful, I love you. Let me hold you for a bit before we have to clean up and get ready for work. First, I’m going to shift back.”

She closes her eyes once more and concentrates, morphing back to the stunning lower intimacy that you worship endlessly whenever possible. 

“I love you too Rissa. Although I loved you fucking me like that, I have to say I missed this dearly.”

You cup her center and move to kiss her with so much love. You both smile into it and then settle into a comfortable embrace. Your head rests against her chest, listening to the strong heartbeat of the blonde angel that you are lucky to call yours. She holds you protectively, placing her cheek on the top of your head and passing her body heat to you. Intimacy like this between you and Larissa, standing in the middle of the shower as warm water soothes your bodies, is something you will cherish until time stops.

[car-lozsigns]

A few minutes more (pt2)

Synopsis: You and Carlos had crossed paths more than you thought was possible over a short weekend but time was not on your side. A love story that’s about the slow burn and companionship built connection, and how sometimes right place wrong time is the best of the available options

Author Note: I wanted a fluff story to read so decided to write one for myself. So this story will be split between POV and time jumps as they are my favourite to read. The plan is for this to be very slow paced, so if you’re reading this, considered yourself warned that this will not have a quick conclusion.

Length:~2.5k

Warning: none apart from it being quickly proof read.

Link to part 1, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Part 2

The crowd’s applause at the end of his presentation was louder and more enthusiastic than what Y/N had received and that irritated him. He may have only met you briefly but he could tell by the way you spoke about your work that you were just as passionate as him and put as much work into getting to where you are as he did, but the recognition received by him from the crowd was more, just because he was a driver. He knew it was a by-product of the job but it irked him more than it should have. He composed his face to ensure that his expression did not mirror his thoughts, and straightening his back and shoulders a little showing the MC he was ready to answer questions. Tame by regular standards, most of the questions were directed towards the workings of the car in response to the fuel used, which luckily, he was spared to answer in favour of the Petrobas representatives. For the less technically challenging questions he could answer, he replied with the standardised text he was instructed to deliver as was always the case at press events like these, and with a final round of applause was able to make his away from the stage back to the simulator room.

“Ay, I’m glad that’s over” he complained to Rupert

Rupert only smiled and went to gather his bag, and gestured with his hands that he was able to leave in a minute after he said good byes and thanks you’s.

Walking back down the road that they had travelled earlier that morning; Rupert mentions that he is catching up with friends from the area so he had to do dinner another time. He reminds Carlos that his meal plan is with the other trip information emailed across yesterday and that all that needs to be done is to pick up a few items from the supermarket on the way back to his room. Carlos was hoping that Rupert had forgotten his meal plan for the weekend, with him rolling his eyes and muttering an “Ay ok” he knew he had missed the opportunity for a truly free night.

Carlos appreciated not having to go out for dinner night when away from home working for sponsor related events. It was rare to have a few hours to himself, let alone a whole evening, even if it is with his nutritionist approved meal. Opening the door to the short stay apartment, he dropped off his bag and made his way to his suitcase to swap shirts. It was a habit that whenever he left the safety of his home (or wherever he was he thought in spite of himself) that the easiest way to live normally was to dress like he hadn’t left his house for a week. In stark contrast to the tight jeans and tailored polo, a short while later Carlos left the apartment with a cap pulled down as far as he could manage, an ill-fitting hoodie, loose tracksuit pants and his phone shoved under his nose, trying to memorise the ingredient list Rupert had sent through so that he could get in and out of the shops as quick as possible.

The directions to the store were in the opposite end of the city which he had been in this morning so the route was unfamiliar to him. He was keenly focusing on his phone to not get lost, opting to walk the short distance. He was however, unaware of his surroundings, so that when he stopped at a pedestrian crossing, he walked straight into the back of a woman, causing her to turn around and scowl in the direction of the jostle.

He could not believe the odds but it was you who turned around. The scowl softened from your face as you recognised who had bumped into you, but the annoyance still laid set in your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there” Carlos mumbled, embarrassed that he walked into someone, let alone render that look from you directed only at him. 

“Too busy on Instagram?” you joke at him, but from your clipped tone it was a poorly hidden scoff behind the jab

“No” he said with confidence, trying to convince you he wasn’t pleasantly surprised to have literally run into you. “I was checking if this is the right direction to the supermarket but I cannot see the street names on my phone no matter how much I zoom in and out.” Carlos points down to his phone trying to show the map zoomed in to such a degree, you don’t wonder why he couldn’t see the names of the surrounding shops or roads.

You pull out your reusable bags from under your arm “I’m also on my way to get some food for the evening, come with me”. Re-tucking the bags under your elbow. You didn’t wait for him to answer, but crossed the road after the signal had flashed green, Carlos doing a quick jog to catch up to you ahead.

He pulls up next to you, tucking his phone in his pocket. In the process, he accidentally brushed your right arm swinging by your side, gathering your attention, allowing you to fully take in what he was wearing for the first time. 

“What’s with the hoodie and cap? You look like the guy from ‘You’”. He awkwardly exhaled reaching to grab his cap, realising that although this was his regular nondescript attire, it was surprisingly warm out, with you wearing a light dress and cardigan, with his clothes clearly mismatched for the environment the city has presented this weekend. He pushed the hoodie off his head, and flipped the cap around, combing his hair back with his fingers, allowing it to be held back now by the strap. 

He tried not to look you in the face, knowing that his expression would betray him, so he continued looking at the ground, noticing that you had fallen in step with each other, your body language mirroring his, right hand swinging, left tucked into an available pocket.

As you reach the shopfront inside the shopping centre, you noticed that he had dipped his head down as he walked through the automated turnstiles. He did this to avoid being seen, but he realised that you did not know who he was, and that this behaviour was definitely not regular.  You went to pick up a plastic basket stacked by the entrance, and he followed you, picking up the basket beneath the one you now had in your hands. He looked at you and saw again that you had a bemused look on your face, as if you were expecting him to go separate ways once inside the fluorescent lit shop. 

He was so content with the walk here with you and that he didn’t want to leave your side just yet, so he waited patiently to your right as you pulled up your own phone from your pocket to go through your list. The items you recited quietly under your breath were quite similar to his that Rupert had sent through. 

“This is my local, what are you after and I’ll help you find what you need” you state, making your way to where the first item on your list was located. 

He listed the ingredients to you, and you mosey your way through each fresh food stalls and aisles, walking in comfortable silence picking up each of your items along the way. He saw that you had started to make your way to the checkouts, a few paces ahead of him, but he reached out, lightly tugging  on the arm of your cardigan to get your attention.

“Help me choose a bottle of wine? What would you recommend?” he asked with the question held in his eyes, mouth slightly turned up at the corners in the hint of a smile.

You smile back at him and pivot left from the direction you were walking. Planting yourself in front of the reds looking up and down the shelf trying to find something.

“Depends what you’re after, I personally prefer the heavier reds either a Shiraz or a Cab Merlot, but if you’re after something lighter, a Pinot Noir or Malbec are always nice. Don’t be fooled by the weather outside though, its’ still too cold for whites” you said ending in a grin.

You bent down and picked up two bottles, before putting one back in favour of a different bottle. You stood up and gave them both to him before picking up another and putting it into your own basket.

“What was wrong with the first one?” he questioned not understanding why you had returned the bottle so quickly back to its place on the shelf.

“In case you couldn’t tell from the accent, I’m not originally from here, I’m Australian so will always pick Aussie wine when I have the chance, a little piece of home in a bottle”. He did in fact notice that you spoke differently from the others he had interacted with over the past few days, but couldn’t put his finger on where that difference lay. Another piece of information about you that surprised him, but he added to a mental note to bring up later if the chance presented itself. 

He had both of the wines in his hand and thought, why not try. Inhaling a short breath, he said “Do you want to share one of these with me? There’s enough food in here for two, join me for dinner” he had phrased the second part of the question as a statement, like you had when telling him to follow you to the store, reducing the opportunity for you to say no.

You looked down at your basket, the wine in his hands before raking your eyes up his body , assessing if it was a genuine request, before meeting his eyes. He was hopeful that the enthusiasm in his gesture and face was clear to you. You pursed your lips, with your eyes flickering between his, about to say no, but without realising the no you thought you spoke was actually a “Sure”. Carlos’s face lit up and before you say something to change your mind, he had already began walking for the second time towards the checkout. 

He half expected you to say no based on the way you held yourself in the shop, but you answered with a yes. It wasn’t the tone of response he was after, but he was understanding more and more that he will have to rely on his personality to get you to like him as opposed to the idea of a F1 driver that that typically works when with girls and at work.

You both paid for your items and hands pull of produce, exited the shop, Carlos leading the way back to his apartment. He could see that you were having an internal argument across your face, which confirmed the hesitation he heard when he asked you to join him was in fact you questioning whether you made the right call joining him. Carlos realised that he had met you in a work setting, and although it was easy enough for him to be seen with those he had worked with, understood that it must not be the same from the line of work you do.

While you were trying to convince yourself that it was ok to see clients outside of work for dinner, you were shifting the bags between your fingers, trying to mask that they were a fraction too heavy to be comfortable while walking. Carlos had been watching out of the corner of his eyes, your poorly masked struggle not missed by his keen gaze. He pivoted, stopping a few metres in front of you, causing you to also stop but the momentum of the bags knocking against your legs causing enough discomfort for you to put the bags down. 

“Let me” He reached towards your bags but you instinctively recoiled at the gesture.

“No no, I’m fine, it’s just awkward to hold, it’s fine.” He however had spotted the red and white lines that had formed on the inner side of your palms, giving away just how heavy the bags were for you.

“How about you pass me your shopping and you can carry the wine?” Now that you had taken a brief break from them, picking up the bags for the rest of the walk did not seem ideal. In your hesitation, He had gathered your bags and started walking again, intentionally forgetting to pass you the wine to carry. 

He hoped you had enough tact to not saying anything, and in his mind by you letting him offer his help, he making headway into your favours. He pulled the key from his pocket, swiping the elevator to his floor, making the short trip upstairs. His room was directly opposite the lifts and with one further swipe, pushed the door open with his shoulder, indicating you to enter before he did. He was glad he hadn’t really made a mess , with his clothes jumbled across his open suitcase and with only a used coffee mug in the sink from the morning. He placed the groceries on the bench, keeping the ones he had bought for himself on the counter, and placing yours, still in the bag in the fridge.

“Don’t forget these before you go” he stated earned a smile from you. 

You were standing shyly by the door, unsure if it was ok for you to actually come inside his apartment. Be it a short stay accommodation, you still felt like you were crossing a professional line. Carlos saw you linger at the entrance way, and gestured you to come in once again.

“You can come in you know”, he started, “I’m not the person to pick up a girl on work every weekend. I didn’t want to have dinner alone, and I saw bumping into you again as a sign to get to know you more”

It was as if Carlos knew exactly what you were hesitating about, his words only slightly putting your mind at ease.

“Ok, only dinner, and just to be clear I also don’t do this each time I meet up with clients from work” you said back to him.

“Oh no, don’t think of me as a Client, I was only helping out today, I don’t technically work for Petrobas, think of this as me trying to get to know you”

“You don’t work for Petrobas?” you said in surprise. You had assumed he did work for them as he was giving a presentation for the company and was decked out in their logos earlier today.

“No no” he laughed, “They sponsor who I work for, yes I’m affiliated with them but they are not my employer”

“So this is a dinner to get to know you…” you hesitated

He nodded in response “Yes, I know it’s a bit strange but I genuinely enjoyed your presentation earlier and want to know you better. It’s not often I have time away from work and like I said before this was the perfect opportunity”

You don’t know why you believed him but you did. You typically steered clear of situations like this. You had heard from your friends that this typically is what guys will do for a date to sleep with you, which is why you weren’t sure why you said yes in the first place. But something within you told you that he meant that he wanted to know you better. So, you took your first step towards the small kitchen, joining Carlos who went back to laying out the ingredients on the counter.

“So what do you plan on making with this?” you queried 

“You’ll find out as we go” he responded. And so, the night began.

Link to Part 3

[palbabor-writes]

Practicum

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT/18+ only, unbalanced/unhealthy relationships, student/teacher sex, tw.dubcon, tw.sub/dom dynamics, brat taming, fingering, masturbation, a table is pretty roughed up in this, so pls hold a brief moment of silence for it    

Words: 12,857

“So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And...answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands.

You bite at your lip again and pass your gaze from his amused expression to the bland cover of the textbook, debating your next move, trying to walk yourself through all the ups and downs. It’s too simple; too easy. It’s not like him. He’s got something else in mind, why else would he fucking look like that? It’s not a bad look. No, it’s a look that makes your stomach flip and head spin.

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Notes: the title was selected because it’s got the word cum in it. ahhh, the things that crack me up. anyhow. 

this is part of the BNHA Degeneracy server’s 9 to 5 collaboration! i had a ton of fun participating in this and thank you guys for making this so freaking awesome! special shoutout & thanks to @albinoburrito​ & @kugutsuu​ for their beta edits! this was a departure from what i usually write about and i appreciate all of your notes and help!  

Practicum prac·ti·cum /ˈpraktəkəm/ noun a practical section of a course of study

It’s your senior year, they said. Live a little, they advised. Stop and take a breather, you’re practically home free! Take some easier classes. Focus on what’s in front of you, it’ll be over before you know it! On and on and on. 

Spring semester is almost here. You’ve applied for graduation, the cap and gown ordered, and you have a shiny class ring sitting on your pinky. It’s in the bag. Just breeze through four more classes and you’re out. Well, it would be an easy shot, if you hadn’t put off this one class. 

It always popped up, so it’s not like you could plead ignorance. Your advisor warned you, each quarterly meeting, that you needed to get it out of the way. Take it seriously, he cautioned, clacking out his notes, typing down that you’d failed to heed his sage advice, again. If you wait too long, you’re not going to get the professor that you want.

That was the other problem. You’re a procrastination superstar. If there was some kinda award for putting off assignments, you’d have won it ten times over. You liked the heart pounding race to the deadline, the sleepy boasts that you’d tackled the project within hours of its due date. 

It’s a stupid habit. Every semester you promise yourself that you’ll do better. You won’t wait, you’ll tackle things one assignment at a time and turn them before the hard cut off at 11:59 pm. Who the fuck did you think you were kidding? Certainly not your friends, or your advisor. He could read you like a book. Hell, he’d even sent warnings. 

‘Don’t forget about the deadline for senior registration!’

‘You don’t want to be on a waitlist. You especially don’t want to take one of the harder professors. These are freshman level classes, they’re designed to flunk undergrads. Don’t forget (Y/N), chew them up and spit them out tactics are employed.’ 

But you had. You’d set an alarm on your phone, then neglected to give it a title, so you’d only chuckled and smacked the chirping into silence that morning, snoozing the all important deadline away. 

Fuck. 

Most of the classes for biology are wait-listed. No, scratch that, all the classes for Intro to Genetic Biology are wait-listed. You opt into the waitlist for all of them, just in case, and a week later your phone alerts you that one has an open seat. Actually, it has several open seats, too many open seats to be natural. However, you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so for now, you’re enrolled in BIO 1208: Principles of Cell and Organismal Physiology - For Non-Science majors. 

Perfect.

Yeah, no. You’d looked up the professor, since the whole open seat thing was still giving you the heebie-jeebies, and your heart dropped. You’ve heard of him, most of the student body has. His classes are notoriously small. Not because the university limited them, or planned for smaller class sizes. No, his classes are tiny because he is infamous for failing students. 

Most, when they realize they’re scheduled for his bio classes, frantically drop, taking the withdrawal and praying for better luck next semester. Others, brave souls who think they can come out unscathed, attempt to grit their teeth and push through. But, by midterms, they’re war torn and haggard, shaking their heads and praying for a ‘C’, at best. Fewer still, pass.

This pedagogy isn’t a sign of good teaching; quite the opposite, in fact. You don’t want your student body failing. Yet, year after year, Professor Tomura Shigaraki keeps teaching the same Intro to Bio class. It boggles the mind, but you’ve never had to worry about it. Well, until now. 

When you’d received the notification that you’re enrolled in the B section and spied the name Shigaraki under the professor listing, you’d scarfed down your suddenly flavorless lunch and dashed up the steps to the student advising hall, praying there was some way you could wiggle your way out of this growing disaster.

“I’m pretty sure I told you to take it earlier and to take it in the fall when there are more freshman level classes available. I swear I said that to you. And, AND, I even sent you emails, several times if my sent inbox is to be believed, to NOT forget when senior registration ends.” 

Your advisor is peeved. You don’t blame him. He’s right, this is your fault, but there’s gotta be some kinda loophole. Something, fuck, anything, that can pull you from this mess. 

“I know, I know! I’m so sorry. You’re right. But, I mean, can’t I just hold off for another week? See if the waitlist clears?”

The man that you’ve known for four years, that’s seen you progress from freshman to senior, steeples his long fingers and purses his lips, likely debating on a tactful scolding, or a firm rebuttal. He takes a deep breath and you can’t help but sink into the soft cushioning of the chair, your nose wrinkled and brow furrowed, mentally preparing yourself for the worst.

“Do you know how many students we require to take BIO 1208?”

“No,” you gulp, nibbling on your lower lip nervously. 

“Over 7,000. Do you want to hear the statistics that would need to shake out in your favor for you to miraculously avoid taking this specific class? Nothing is going to open for you, it is this class, or no class.”

You sigh, and your advisor nods, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Well then, I suggest you brush up on your study skills. Find a classmate that you can compare notes with, join a study group, go to the student union and ask for a tutor. I would hate to see you back here for the summer semester. You’re scheduled to walk the stage this spring and you’ve worked hard for this, so don’t fuck it up, okay?”

You’ve attended this university for four years, but the first day of term always gives you the jitters. It doesn’t matter that you know your way around, or that you know ten professors by name, and bump into several friends on the way to your next building, you’re always buried in your phone, checking and double checking the next class’ room number. 

Despite all that caution, you’re lost.

In your defense, it’s your first time stepping foot in the Graduate & Research building and the whole concrete block is a fucking maze. There must be a basement because the numbers don’t match up with the floors and they seem to jumble further every time you round a corner. Like what the hell? How can this next room be GR 3.03.05 when this is clearly only the second floor and GR 2.03.11 was right down that other hallway?

Exasperated, you lean against the nearest wall and tug your phone out again. Shit. Class started ten minutes ago. 

Part of you wants to call it a day, end the search here and try again on Wednesday. Maybe take a few extra minutes to scout out the building next time and have some idea of where you’re going before the start of class. 

Ugh, why is this so stressful? 

It’s the first day of classes. Surely Professor Shigaraki won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late; besides, if you’re lost, others must be too. 

You tuck your phone back into your pocket and resume the hunt. Two hallway turns later, you find your mark.

Your hand pauses beside the heavy wood, and you take a steadying breath. Again, why are you so nervous? Just go in and take a seat, it’s easy, stop freaking out over nothing. 

The door groans open, hinges protesting the sharp push, and you stumble into a darkened room. The low glow of the projector doesn’t help your blurry vision. Ah, shit, it’s one of those older rooms, so it’s built like a bad movie theater. Oh well, better get to a seat before he spots you. 

Swiftly, you make your way toward the raised steps of the aisle and the second row of chairs, plopping into the first one you reach that’s empty. You’re too busy fiddling with the zipper of your backpack to notice that the speaker has stopped his rasping preamble, but as you pull your laptop out the ominous weight of that heavy silence hits you and you toss a hooded stare toward the front of the lecture hall. 

Immediately, your eyes land on the professor’s and you feel a low shiver shake up your spine. 

He’s watching you. 

The gleam of the overhead projector makes his red eyes flash, and he openly scowls at your gaping expression, his lips curling into a dark sneer.

“Well, thank you for joining us, Miss…?”

He’s waiting for your response and you squeak out your last name, mindlessly rubbing your moistening palms against your thin skirt. 

“Ah, Ms. (L/N). Now that you’ve graced the class with your belated presence, may I continue?”

“Uh,” you gasp out, your mouth dry, tongue sticking to your teeth, “I’m sorry. I got–”

“I didn’t ask for an explanation, or in your case, an excuse. Or are you now attempting to disrupt this class purposefully?”

“Wha– I-I’m–” your words stumble to a halt, voice failing under the intense glare that he’s giving you. “No,” you finish lamely, ducking your head, nails digging into your sweaty palms. 

“Thank you. Do me a favor, stay after class.” His voice is gravel, threatening and low. You don’t like the edge in his tone. It makes your skin prickle and your knees knock. He sounds like the kind of guy that you don’t want to run into in a dark alleyway, or a classroom, for that matter. Even so, it’s not your fault, and despite your feelings of unease, you can’t tamp down your need to protest his unreasonableness. 

“But, professor, I didn’t mean to–”

“If I need to repeat my insistence for silence, I’ll make things easier on both of us and fail you now.”

Stunned and fuming, you bite your tongue and lean back into your chair, crossing your arms and blinking back mounting tears of frustration. Great, just great. It’s the first fucking day of class and it looks like you’re already on his shit list. And for what? For being late on fucking syllabus day! What an ass. 

You look over at him as you defiantly finish setting up your computer, hoping each pull of a zipper or screen reboot will grate under his stuck up skin. He’s not inordinately tall, or old. In fact, he looks like he might only be in early 30s. He has long white hair that’s pulled back into a low ponytail and, from what you can make out in the dim lighting, some kinda skin condition on his forehead. That, or he’s prematurely wrinkled, and let’s be honest, if he’s gone through life with that big of a stick up his ass, he deserves each and every pull on that mottled skin of his. 

You linger in your seat when class is over, lips pulled into a thin line and legs crossed. Finally, when the last student has left the room, professor Shigaraki flips a switch beside his elevated podium, filling the lecture hall with a sharp, fluorescent light. He pauses by his raised computer system and clicks off the overhead projector, blanketing the massive room in an uncomfortable silence. 

“Since you missed the part of class where I go over the syllabus, I’ll give you a brief rundown. Under no circumstances will I tolerate tardiness. If you do it once more I’ll mark you absent and three absences knock you down a full letter grade.”

Glumly, you cross your arms and peer up at him, finally able to get a good look at his face. Your first observation was correct. His skin is sharper around his forehead, but his wavy white hair does a pretty decent job of covering up the imperfections. He has two scars: one nicks across his right eye and the other splits down his rough lips, parting the skin and granting him an even more foreboding appearance than his already gruff demeanor does. He’s dressed in a dark pair of jeans and he’s wearing a low slung v neck shirt. It’s a brilliant red and it brings out that otherworldly glint of his red eyes. Shit, you think bitterly, while he’s not conventionally handsome, he’s not exactly hard on the eyes either. 

You shake your head against these unproductive musings and curtly snap out a clipped, ok.

“What was that?” Shigaraki scoffs, tilting his head at your sullen figure. “Speak up.”

“I said,” you bristle, eyes narrowing and chin lifting, “Okay, I apologize for interrupting your lecture, it won’t happen again. But, in my defense, if I’m allowed to do that in this class, I’ve never been in this building before, and it’s not like–”

“You’re a senior, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then you’ve had four years to figure out the layout of this university. The excuse of ‘being lost,’ isn’t an option for you. You know the buildings and you’re fully capable of turning up early to sort out the rooms.”

You let out a long sigh and look away, mumbling vague protests. This guy is ridiculous. You’re not a science major and it’s not your job to know the ins and outs of each building. How fucking stupid. Who does he think he–

“Speak up. I won’t ask you again.”

You bite your lip and look back at him but he’s moved in that distracted moment, silently stepping down from his raised platform and is now leaning over the first row of chairs, looming over you. You can’t help your sudden flinch as you sink further into your chair, away from him.

“If you’re gonna complain, Ms. (L/N), I’d much rather hear it. Don’t you think It’s rude for you to mutter under your breath about me? You don’t see me doing that to you.”

“Fine,” you blurt out, turning away from his insistent, and all too close, gaze. “I was saying that I’m not a science major. I get that I’m a senior, but you can’t seriously expect me to know every nook and cranny of this campus.”

“No, but I can ask for you to be a little more thoughtful. I put time and effort into my lessons and I won’t have you undermining them by bouncing in here with those legs and that flouncy little skirt.”

You’re about to counter his little haughty speech on politeness when you finally process that final comment he’d breathed out. Flabbergasted, you raise your head back to his, but he’s already moving away, snatching up his shoulder bag and waving you a curt goodbye as he presses open the squeaky door. “Next class is at 10 am sharp, so be on time Ms. (L/N).”

You’re still slumped in your seat when the door glides shut again, your eyes wide and jaw no doubt comically unhinged. 

Wait. Did…did he really just say that?

Obviously, for the next class, you’re early. You’re so early that you’re the first one in the lecture hall. You select a seat toward the back and fiddle with your computer, checking your messages, adjusting your brightness, replying to old emails, anything to keep your head down and attention occupied. 

The door opens and, despite your best efforts, your head flies up, expectant and tense, ready to meet those red eyes of his head on, to show him you’re here and he better… oh. It’s not him. It’s two chattering freshmen. One of them gives you a quick smile, but they both quickly take their seats, a few rows over, and continue their soft conversation, leaving you to fall back onto your earlier distraction tactics. You twiddle with your phone and shoot off a few texts, change your wallpaper, accidentally close an app you meant to leave open, and then the lecture hall door reopens.

He steps in slowly, completely ignoring you and the other scattered students, opting to sort out a few papers and set up his login on the school computer. The minutes tick by and you can’t seem to jerk your eyes away from him, suddenly fascinated by his languid movements. He looks more relaxed than he did on Monday, looser and fluid, completely in his element. True to his word, at ten am on the dot he begins class. 

Professor Shigaraki has an interesting voice. It’s low, calculated, bordering on a rasp. It’s one of those tones that makes you want to lean forward and listen up, even though he’s only discussing cellular biology. Which isn’t exactly the sexiest topic for that shockingly dulcet timbre of his. 

Wait. Sexy? 

Your pen falters against your notebook, and your eyes drift up to his frame. He’s switched the lights off again and the shine of the overhead projector is the only illumination in the hall. His white hair gleams in the dim lighting and his long hands animatedly illustrate his points, elegant fingers opening and closing, gesticulating about the intricate nature of the human genome. You’re so focused on watching his movements that your elbow partner has to push the slip of paper onto your collapsible desktop. You blink at the sheet, your pen nearly clattering from your hand, and you twist to peer at the unfamiliar student beside you. 

“It’s the attendance sheet and, um, I think you’re the last one,” they whisper, careful to lean away after they finish their explanation, not wanting to draw professor Shigaraki’s ire. You maneuver the paper under your pen and scribble down your name, biting your lip and silently berating yourself for your poor selection in seating. Great, now you’ll have to take the paper down to him after class. What if he talks with you again? Shit. 

At 11:25, class ends. You collect your things and plod down the steps, the attendance sheet clutched between your fingers. He’s just snapping the projector light off when you reach his podium. 

“I, uhh, have the attendance. You want me to just leave it here, or…”

“I’ll take it,” his hand is extended toward you and those red eyes are fixed on you now. It’s not the same disgruntled stare he’d given you on Monday. No, this look is a little more curious. Again, you’re taken aback by your reaction to him. He’s not even saying anything, just patiently waiting for you to deposit the sheet into his open palm, but there’s something about him that’s making your heart race. 

Maybe it’s those eyes of his. 

They are an unusual color and they have a strange intensity to them. Right as they narrow, the vermillion shining under the sharp lights; you press the paper to him and he pulls it from you, studying the names that are listed. 

You want to say something. Maybe toss him a quick, friendly, goodbye. Or apologize for the other day? Ugh. What can you even say? ‘Gosh, so glad I was on time today! All that fascinating information about the genetic code! So glad to be here!’ No, that sounds stupid and a little patronizing. Besides, why do you want to talk with him at all? He’s an ass, remember?

“Did you need something?”

His question snaps you out of your stupor and you numbly shake your head at him, already lowering your gaze, but his exhaled chuckle makes you pause, your fingers curling around your backpack straps.  

“I know I upset you the other day, but I appreciate you taking the effort to correct your mistake.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, your eyes finding their way back to his. “Yeah, well, like you said, I’m a senior. Gotta take responsibility for myself someday.”

“Ah,” he smirks, that long scar on his lip quirking upward. “Seems like you’ve got some determination after all. You might be more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

“God,” you scoff, popping out a hip and crossing your arms at the bemused leer on his face. “Just come right out and say you think I’m a bad student, why don’t you?”

“Don’t worry,” he amends, tucking the attendance sheet into his shoulder bag and snapping the clasps closed. “There’s plenty of time for you to end up right back at square one with me.”

He’s already halfway out the door by the time you right yourself from the shock of his last comment and you follow him, a string of low curses falling from your lips. 

The spring semester always flies by, and before you realize it, a full month has bled away. You’ve kept that same seat in Shigaraki’s class and at the end of each session you head down to his little platform, attendance sheet outstretched. Each day of class has a different ebb and flow. Sometimes he chats with you and it’s gotten easier to talk with him, both of your eyes holding and lingering, lips raised into calculating smiles. Sometimes it almost feels like he’s flirting with you. Other days he only spares you a curt nod, his white hair curtaining his expression from your curious gaze. You’re not bothered by these silences, not when you’ve got your secret weapon. 

The days that you like best, the ones that you plan, sorting through your closet until you’ve found the perfect choice, are the days when you wear one of your skirts. You’d even gone on some skirt shopping sprees as of late. On those days he doesn’t just make some sort of fleeting eye contact with you, no, on those days he stares. 

At first, you’d tested out your theory, staggering your outfits, careful to not screw up your suspicions with a hasty miscalculation, but as they say, the third time’s the charm. How did he expect you not to notice? He never bothers to hide those sharp ogles and recently you’ve made a point of dramatically gathering your things when you wear these cute little ensembles, bopping down the steps so his eyes have to work to follow the line of your hips and the long paths of your bare legs. One rainy afternoon you’d worn over the knee stockings, that came to an abrupt halt over the plush skin of your upper thigh, under your mini skirt and he’d practically leapt over the podium to grab the sheet from you, his eyes hooded and dark, almost wild.

“Test, on Friday,” he warns, eyes finally rising to meet your bemused expression. “Don’t stay out too late tonight.”

“What makes you say that?” you ask, brushing at a rogue fold in your skirt, luring him back to your legs. 

He scoffs at you, that jagged scar arching into a smirk. “Humph. You’re dressed up. Most of the students just wear the sweats, or pjs, and call it a day.” 

“I like to put a little effort in all that I do,” you retort, grinning up at his vermillion stare. 

“Yes, so I’ve noticed. You certainly look the part…and you’re keeping up with the workload of this course.”

“Ahhh,” you crow, clapping your hands excitedly. “Are you saying I might get an ‘A’ in this class? Be the first time someone’s done that in a while, from what I’ve heard around campus.”

Shigaraki sneers and tuts out an inaudible reply, leaning a little closer to you, making you inadvertently fall back a step. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Awe,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m doing ok on all the quizzes and the classwork.”

“So far,” he taunts, his pearlescent hair falling over his broad shoulder.

“Tch. Don’t be like that. I’ve been studying.”

“Sometimes it takes more than that.”

“Oh?” you smile, raising your chin. “What else should I be doing, professor?”

“We’ll know that after Friday, won’t we?”

God. 

You’d felt so confident when you’d turned in your test and that stupid, horrible, sexy little quirk of his lip scar that he sends you, when you’d handed him your papers, carries you on some strange, half aroused cloud all weekend. Maybe, just maybe, this class won’t be so bad after all.

The tests are handed back the following Friday, passed from row to row so everyone can fish out their papers and marked Scantrons. Yours, since you still occupy that final seat on the back row, is the last. Biting back a grin, you flip it over, so ready to see that A, that grade that you worked so fucking hard for, that… wait.

The gross flash of red across the top of your paper leaves you reeling, your breath catching against the back of your throat. It’s not a terrible grade, well, it wouldn’t be, but there are only three tests in this class, so it’s going to plummet you down to a B. One more fuck up will leave you with a C, or worse, an automatic failing grade. 

No. No, no, no, no. 

You can’t afford a bad grade, you honestly can’t even let yourself slip to a B. Your fucking cap and gown have just come in and with them that cord that you can wear around your neck at graduation. The one that marks you as honors cum laude. Fuck. You’re already pulling one B, in one of your other classes, because you’ve been focusing so much time and effort on this one. Another B will strip that cord from you, leaving you barren, with a less than ideal GPA. 

God fucking damn it.

You glare up at Shigaraki, who’s busy taking the rest of the class through a review of genetic mutations, but you can’t hear him anymore, too incensed, too overwhelmed to even care about what he’s saying. The test crumples under your fingertips, the paper shaking in your hands, and you seethe, your teeth biting your lower lip to pieces. 

It’s not fair. You’d paid attention. You’ve taken all the notes. Read all the chapters. Drilled and studied till your eyes had drooped, heavy with exhaustion. You’ve done it all right. Plus, he’d been so fucking flirty, so open with you. You’ve never chatted with a professor this way, never gone out of your way to wear clothes they like, that make them watch you, their eyes hungry pinpricks as you walk to them, mindful of the luscious sway of your hips. 

No. Fuck him. Fuck this class.

Before your elbow classmate can leave, you ask for them to hand in the attendance sheet. You barely hear their response, too busy slamming your laptop into your backpack. As you storm past the podium, you can feel his eyes on you. The distant sensation of his gaze makes your flesh prickle, but you ignore your involuntary reaction and shove your way out the door. 

“(Y/N), you can’t switch classes this late. It’s almost midterms. Besides, I don’t think anything has opened up and if you’re going to drop it, you’ve gotta get the signature of the professor,” your advisor tells you, blinking at your stony expression over his thick glasses. “I don’t get it. Why do you want to drop it? Your grades are alright and it’s just one test. You can always try–”

“Gimme the paperwork.”

Shigaraki’s office is on the top floor of the research building, tucked away down another winding and weaving hallway that once again requires your careful inspection to navigate. When you finally hit the right set of doors, you slowly make your way forward, counting the numbers up as you pass. His door is wide open, a yawning cavern that’s filled with the distant light of a lamp. You brush a hand down your skirt, smoothing away any wrinkles and steadying your nerves. 

You’d tossed on the skirt this morning, before you’d gotten the grade, and you hadn’t thought to go home and change, too consumed by that simmering rage bubbling within you. And now, like this fucking class, this skirt felt like a mistake, something stupid and vapid that you wished you had time to change out of. He’d told you he liked your attire, liked that you put effort into your outfits. At the time, you’d been so thrilled and excited that he’d complimented you, but now you wish you were confronting him in baggy jeans or lazy sweats, anything that would turn that avid gaze of his away from you. 

Lost in thought, you waver beside his open door, nibbling on your lips and tugging at your clothes. It’s now or never. No point in putting it off. What’s the worst that can happen? What can he do now? Or, a darker side of you whispers, what do you want him to do to you? What? That’s a stupid thought, you scold yourself, lifting a hand to the wall and rapping against the beige paint, announcing your presence. 

When the sound fades away, swallowed up by the empty and darkened hallway, you poke your head around the corner, searching for him. His head is tilted quizzically, and he blinks twice when he spots you, that all too familiar smirk lifting his lips. 

“Ah, Ms. (L/N), what can I do for you?”

His voice is softer than usual and your name sounds like honey, his tone resting on the syllables and consonants for a beat, almost as if he’s savoring their lift, their sound. You can’t help but swallow heavily at his appraisal. Suddenly this may be a terrible idea. 

Ugh. Get a grip (Y/N). 

“I-I need you to sign this withdrawal paperwork,” you finally reply, digging in your bag and tugging out the thin leaflet, holding it out to him. He’s silent after your demand, meditatively threading his fingers and peering up at you, his red eyes bright. 

“Step inside and shut the door behind you,” he instructs, his gaze never falling from yours. Despite the simplicity of his request, you can’t help but bristle at his imperious tone. Why does he always have to sound like that? Like he’s seconds away from taking control of the situation, or of you? He’s always one stupid step ahead, and no doubt he’s going to try and talk you down. Or, he’ll sign it and say that he always knew you were a screw up, someone who only did things halfway, who could never match up to his lofty expectations. Humph, the sooner you’re outta here and out of his class, the better. So, you obey, closing the door and petulantly flopping into the unsteady chair that sits in front of his low desk. 

He maintains that uneasy quiet, his red eyes whisking over your disgruntled face, waiting, watching. Unable to take this strange standoff, you push the university paperwork toward him, sliding it as close as you dare to his bent elbows. “I would like to withdraw from your class,” you repeat, lips setting into a thin line. 

“Why?” he asks, cocking his head so his loose white hair falls a little further down his rough brow. 

“Something came up.”

“Hmm, I can try to work with a new schedule, if it’s your job, or home life,” he counters, eyes narrowing as he sharpens his observations of your brittle expression. 

“It’s not that,” you smart, crossing your arms. Great, he’s going to make this difficult. 

“Then I suggest you tell me what’s on your mind,” Shigaraki replies, mirroring your movements and leaning back in his chair. 

“I don’t think this class is working out for me.”

He exhales a soft laugh at your lie, and you watch that tiny mole at the edge of his chin lift in his quiet mirth. “This is a freshman level course and you’re a senior. You’re in my class because it’s likely the last pre-rec that you need to take before you graduate.”

“Um, yeah. But–”

“And now, you’re wanting to drop it because of one poor grade.”

You grind your teeth and fix him with a stark glower. “I–”

“There will be two other tests. If you read your syllabus, you’d know this.”

“I read the syllabus. Your tests are worth a stupid amount of points and it only takes one of them to tank my grade.”

“Frankly, you did better than most of the class. You only need to work on practical application. I said that the written portion would be a major component of the exam. I also provided you with a review and a rubric. So I’m not sure–”

“Your grade drops me to a ‘B’, and that ‘B’ pulls me from the honors list. And… well… I thought that…”

“Oh? What did you think?” he presses, his voice suddenly dropping to that lower octave it had drifted into when he said your last name. 

“I thought I’d get a better grade,” you spit out, turning your head and biting at your lip again. 

“Why?” he counters simply. His obtuseness is making your blood boil.

“What do you mean, why?” It takes all of your will to not slip a ‘jackass’ into that question. 

“It’s not a hard thing to answer. I graded you fairly and according to my rubric. Why exactly do you feel you merit a different grade than the one you earned?”

You fall into a frustrated silence. You can hear your heart pounding against your ribs and you want to scream at him, to leap over his desk and shake him until his teeth fucking rattle. Your shoulders are rising and lowering disjointedly and his vermillion eyes are honed in on your face, shifting over your pinched expression with a distant interest. You can feel tears pricking at your eyes and you hastily rub a fist over them, brushing away any rogue drops of moisture.

“How can you ask me that? You think I didn’t notice you staring at my legs? Or that you always had something to say to me when I was wearing a skirt? What was I supposed to think, huh? I fucking thought shit like that was gonna help, ok? God, I’m so stupid. I can’t… fuck.” 

Shigaraki arches forward when you finish, a deep sigh leaching through his parted lips. His teeth snap together when you look up at him, your eyes gaining back some of that earlier defiance, and he gives you a quick grin, clearly pleased by your shift in attitude and pushes your paper aside, fixing you with a dark look. “Here’s a thought, since you feel you’re so different, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you a chance to make up the score.”

“I don’t care about the score anymore. I wanna drop your class,” you snap, but it’s a halfhearted barb. Something has changed in his demeanor. He’s dropped the concerned professor act and is leaning so close you can hear his steady intakes of air. He’s only a few inches away; if you want, you could touch him.

“I doubt you want to attend a class in the summer. Besides, they won’t let you walk if you haven’t finished your freshman level courses. And you can’t tell me you don’t want to graduate, to earn that cord that lets you into the honor cum laude. So stop pouting and hear me out. I think you’ll like what I have in mind.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever like anything about you,” your voice is sharper than you mean it to be, but the challenge makes Shigaraki smile. As it crosses his cracked lips, it pulls that scar up and it makes those eyes of his glow. He looks like the cat that’s got the cream and you’re not sure how to respond, so you cross your legs and wait for him to make the next move. 

“You sure about that? Well, I’ll have to change your tune then, won’t I? But that can wait, lemme tell you what my requirements are. I’ve got a copy of the textbook in here. I’ll have you review some of the major concepts, you’ll read the passages aloud so I’m sure you’re on the right track, you’ll hand the book back to me, and then I’ll verbally quiz you over the material. If you answer them correctly, I’ll bump you to an ‘A’ on your test.”

You have to actively work to keep your mouth closed. “So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And… answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands. 

You bite at your lip again and pass your gaze from his amused expression to the bland cover of the textbook, debating your next move, trying to walk yourself through all the ups and downs. It’s too simple; too easy. It’s not like him. He’s got something else in mind, why else would he fucking look like that? It’s not a bad look. No, it’s a look that makes your stomach flip and head spin. 

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Your eyes boggle and you have to clench your thighs tighter, your stomach churning, you feel light-headed and you can feel your core fluttering with your sudden arousal. “Wh-what did you just say?”

“Stop gaping at me like that, you’ll make me blush. Now come on.”

Your jaw snaps closed and you shake your head, trying to clear your mind from your whirling emotions. He takes this reaction as a surrender and stands, stepping toward a marred table that rests a little ways away from his desk. He licks his thumb pad and flips through a few pages before finally settling on an appealing section. Once he places it on the table, he twists back to you and crooks a finger your way. “Come here,” he orders, his voice deep and languid. Obediently, you rise on unsteady feet, hands tugging at the length of your skirt, careful to keep it pressed down as you walk toward him. 

He makes space for you to stand in front of the book and shifts back, one hand resting on the table, propping him close to your bent figure. You look up at him, but he only nods his head toward the table, a wicked smile curling the corners of his lips. Blink a few times but finally, the words clear and you can see the block of text that’s in front of you. It’s passages on DNA encodes and RNA proteins, hefty stuff, things that you had to make flash cards for. This isn’t going to be easy. If anything, he’s picked some of the harder concepts, the ones that take steady knowledge in the foundations. Flustered, you look back to him, but he’s moved. He’s leaning against the wide window beside the table, a dark mark against the glass.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, a laugh bubbling in his tone.

“There’s no way…” you stammer, shaking your head at him. 

“Want me to throw a curve in?”

“I should ask what kinda curve, but knowing you, it’s likely gonna be something terrible.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he rumbles, stepping away from the window and leaning close to your stiff form. “It just takes an open mind and some enthusiasm on your part.”

“Enthusiasm?” you question, trying your best to withstand his closeness. You can feel the heat radiating off of his broad shoulder and if you tilt a little nearer, you could graze against him, or feel his breath on your skin. 

“You’re right,” he amends, his forearm contacting your side. You startle at the touch, a gasp falling from your lips, but you don’t pull away and you can’t stop staring up at him, your eyes wide. “Obedience is a better word. From here on out, whatever I tell you to do, I expect you to obey it, although it’s not exactly, ah, school approved.”

“You want me to suck you off or something?” you sneer, hoping to stumble him off his guard, even if it’s only for an instant. Too bad he’s always one step ahead. 

“Don’t be vulgar. Think outside of the box, (Y/N). Do you think I’m going to go for something so short sighted when I could have you bending to my will? Obeying every little demand that I make? I’d much rather see if that skin of yours tastes as good as it looks, then simply have you on your knees. No, I want you to fucking scream for me while I stuff you full of my cock. But first, you need to put in some work. You should know that by now.”

Oxygen is suddenly very hard to come by and you can feel your mind hazing over as you stammer up at him, your mind flitting from word to word disjointedly. Shigaraki grants you a wolfish grin, and he dips his lips beside your ear, whispering over those tiny hairs that rest against your tender skin. “I’ll make this part easy. Nod and I’ll give you the first set of instructions.” 

What did he say? Nod? What happens when you nod? Fuck, why are you letting him do this? Is your grade really worth it? Are you that desperate that… that… 

Shigaraki is whispering other promises over you as you war with yourself, speaking his words gently, slowly, his breath hot as it fans over your neck. It’s like you’ve fallen under some kinda spell and before you realize it, your traitorous head is bobbing up and down, letting him know you want him to keep going.

“Perfect,” he sighs, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear, jerking a shiver from you. “Now, lean forward and put your hands against the table.” 

You do as he says, but he’s not satisfied with your positioning, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and yanking you forward, jutting your ass out and pressing your chest down, maneuvering you until your nose is right above the pages of the textbook. “There we go,” he rasps, pulling away so he can admire your splayed form. “Hmm, your legs are too close together. Spread them.” Knees trembling, you obey, gasping when he runs a palm against the curve of your thighs.

“You’ve got such nice legs (Y/N), so let’s put them on display, shall we?” His fingers search against the top of your skirt and they still when he reaches his prize: the zipper. When he pulls it down, you let out a sharp squeak of protestation but he silences you with a swift pinch to your side. 

“Now, now, don’t be like that. You nodded, remember? Besides, you could have left when I told you I’d give you a curve but you couldn’t help yourself could you? You want me to keep going and to do that, I need you to take this skirt off. No, don’t move. I’ll get rid of it for you. Why don’t you focus on the task at hand, hmm? Aren’t you supposed to be reading for me?”

You arch away from his fingers and he chuckles at your impudence, one large hand hooking under your chin and pulling you toward his face. His red eyes blaze as they find yours, the dark pupils threatening to swallow up that deep vermillion. “Let’s start with the second paragraph. If you do well, I might grant you a reprieve.” 

Jerking your face from his grip, you twist back to the text, trying, and failing, to ignore his inquisitive fingers, unable to resist sighing as he works one up your inner thigh. He pauses when no words fall from your lips and you grumble out a few low curses before acquiescing to his silent demand. 

“The flow of genetic information in cells from DNA to mRNA to protein is described by the Central Dogma, which states that genes specify the sequence of mRNAs, which specify the sequence of proteins. The decoding of one molecule… the… the… molecule… by spec-specific…”

He’s slipped your skirt down over the swell of your ass, but he’s taking his time, flexing out the front of the material and dipping his fingers over the bump of your lower stomach, kneading into the delicate flesh that’s stretched out for him. You can’t help the twitch of your spine and you involuntarily wiggle, palms slipping forward, dragging you further along the tabletop. Shigaraki chuckles above you, running his rough lips over the back of your neck.

“You’re so sensitive. I’ve barely touched you.” 

He circles his hands back to your skirt and edges it along, lowering it sharply on one side and then giving the same treatment to the other. You’re doing your best to keep up with your stammering readings, but it’s difficult when he keeps sighing and running his long nails across your newly bared skin. Finally, he works the skirt down and it thumps against your bare ankles; the fabric tickling your skin. 

Meanwhile, his other fingers skitter against the elastic band of your rapidly dampening panties. Once he hooks the lace under his hand, he yanks them along your legs, trailing them sinfully slowly, ensuring that they glide down the billow of your thighs. His teeth nip at your ear when you stumble to a halt in your recitation and your hands tense over the grains of wood beneath them, your nails pinching into your palms. “If you stop, I stop,” he warns, his head bumping against yours, his sharp nose pressing against your pulse.

“You’re not exactly making this easy,” you grumble, doing your best to ignore his renewed pets and strokes. 

“Stop complaining,” he smirks, leaning away from your head to peer at your newly exposed flesh. “You better pay attention to what you’re reading or you’re not going to pass the questions I’ll be asking you.”

“Yeah, yeah, ow!” you squawk, whipping your head around to glare up at him. He fucking pinched you again! This time, he’d slipped his hand between your spread legs and tweaked your inner thigh, painfully. 

“Read,” he repeats, running those guilty fingers upward, lingering beside the heat of your cunt, careful to not get too close. When you start on the next sentence, one of his hands tugs up the fabric of your shirt, snaking upward until he’s thumbing against the wire of your bra. Once again, you falter to a halt and exhale a wavering breath. 

Goddamn it. This review is no review. You’ll be lucky if you can even recall what a cell is if he keeps this up. You hear his ominous intake of air and quickly resume your recitation, mumbling something about RNA and mRNA differences. 

Wait. Didn’t you just…  

“Looks like you’re having trouble listening to me. I told you to read aloud, not to repeat the same passages over and over.”

“Hey, at least I’ll have a firm grasp on those. You should ask me something about that s-section… ah–”

The hand that was resting under the cup of your bra has made its way underneath the lightly padded material, and his thumb and index fingers have trapped your peaked nipple between them. As soon as your snarky comment left your mouth, he’d twisted the bud, squeezing it until it throbbed. 

“Pay attention,” he commands, shoving your bra upward, freeing the globes of your breasts and cupping both of his broad hands under them. Your abused nipple stings and the mixture of sharp pain and jarring arousal goes right through you, stoking that coil that pulsed within your core, and sending a tacky flush of your essence down your spread thighs.

The next few words are a struggle. The text keeps blurring and your breaths are coming in fast and heavy. Shigaraki is still feeling you up, keeping his lips close to your ears, rasping sharp commands to you and dealing out lightning fast rounds of pinches and squeezes each time you falter. 

“I–I can’t… I don’t even know what I’m reading anymore,” you bemoan, your hips pressing against the edge of the table, legs trembling as you attempt to keep them apart. He’s deliberately ignoring your throbbing clit and a desperate edge is creeping into your voice. 

“Are you always this whiny? Fine. I’ll give you a moment to read without any distractions.”

Thank God.

True to his word, he slips away from your back and you’re left shivering against his sudden absence. Despite your quaking, you’re determined to make the most of this chance and you quickly read out the paragraphs that are on the second page. As you ramble down to the last bit of text, you realize you can’t hear him anymore and when you finish the last sentence; you start to really wonder where he’s drifted off to. A tense silence follows your completion of the material and you arch up on the tips of your toes, jutting your ass out and stretching the stiffened muscles of your lower back. 

“Didn’t say you could stop reading, and judging from all of your complaints, I don’t think you got some of those earlier concepts, so I’d suggest doing a quick review,” he taunts, the sudden rasp of his voice startling a low gasp from your lips. 

He’s close; somewhere behind you and to the left from the sound of it. You try to twist around, your chest lifting from the table, and when he notices, his hands return, creating a rough pressure against your neck as he forces your body back down. His weight plasters you to the surface, scraping your partially exposed stomach and tender breasts over the nicked wood. Shigaraki is merciless in his swift correction, his breath puffing out angrily behind you. “Didn’t say you could move, either.”

Stunned, you freeze. Your arms are arched awkwardly, but he keeps his weight against you, flattening your breasts and forcing your back to arch into an awkward bend. Fuck, you think, how are you supposed to stay like this? Your legs are already aching and if he shifts away again, he’s likely going to expect you to maintain this absurd pose.  

“Yes,” he groans, his voice catching against the word, “Good girl. Now, stay just like that.”

Damn it.

“Go on, read the first part again,” he instructs. 

“The entire genetic content of a cell is known as its genome and the study of genomes is gen-genomics. In eukaryotic cells, but… but not in p-prokaryotes, DNA forms a complex with histone proteins… with histone proteins… sub-substance… of…”

His teeth have latched onto your neck, and he’s sucking bruises into your tender skin. He’s still pinning you to the table, but his hands are widening their explorations. He’s started dragging a fingernail across the puffy folds of your cunt, teasing against the dripping and swollen flesh, chuckling when you buck against his hold. 

“You always seem to lose it when you get to cellular modulations.”  

“I–I–It’s not… I can’t help that you keep…” you whimper, your fingers curling under your palms, head shaking back and forth. You can’t think. He’s not being fucking fair, and you can’t even string your goddamn words together. Shit. “Y-you’re not being fair,” you accuse, falling on the only thing that keeps running through your mind, your splayed feet shifting uncomfortably under you.

“Not fair? Not once did I say fairness would come into this arrangement,” he lifts himself off of your back and leans beside you, one arm planted beside your crooked elbow. His fingers trace over the curve of your ass, cupping at the thickest part of you and squeezing. 

“But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get a little satisfaction out of this arrangement. I bet you look good when you cum. And you’ve been working so hard to get my attention these last few months. So careful to do what I tell you. Looking at me with those big eyes of yours, all wide eyed every time I catch you looking at me. And don’t even get me started on your lips. You’re lucky I didn’t fucking bend you over after class, especially when you started wearing all of those cute little skirts for me. Ahhh, don’t moan like that, I won’t be able to help myself if you do. Let’s see how you’re doing, shall we?” 

Without warning, he slips his longest digit into your cunt, groaning loudly when he’s sucked into your welcoming heat. Your pussy, hungry for any kind of scrap, ripples around his intrusion, clamping and pulling, desperate for more. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his weight falling against your shoulder. “You’re soaking.” His elegant digit pushes deeper and you roll your hips under him, urging him closer, sighing when he sinks to the last knuckle. As he pulls his finger back, he adds another, swiftly v-ing the two before curving them together as they slip back out, dragging a steady line of pleasure from your quivering cunt. Shigaraki whispers another round of awed praise against your ear, his voice dark and breathless. 

A third digit is added on another trip out, and it creates a ragged sensation within you. It’s close to what you like, but he’s stretching you too far and it’s starting to hurt. He either needs to speed up, or give you a little more pressure. If you can hump your clit against the edge of the table, maybe it’ll give you the friction that you need. When you mindlessly buck your hips, your thighs threatening to lose that spread, he stops, holding his fingers inside you, laughing as you agitatedly try to shift him back into his earlier rhythm.

“So eager. I’d say you’re ready for my questions.”

“W-what?” you gasp, wholly focused on making him restart the push and pull of his fingers inside you. 

“I’ll start you off with something easy. What’s the cell membrane?”

“W-what? The cell… ah–” 

“Answer me. Now,” he grunts, leaning forward, re-steadying you as his fingers pull outward, dragging against your sensitive folds and schlicking through your arousal lewdly, loudly. You moan and your eyes roll back, completely ignoring his demand as you fall into the haze of pleasure that comes after his movements. 

His free hand travels up your neck and he tangles his fingers into the tendrils of your hair, yanking and jerking at the strands, demanding your attention.  

“I said, answer me.”

“Shigaraki–I–fuck. I can’t even… ugh… think right now!”

“Do you want the grade, or not?” he questions, his voice tense. “Answer correctly and I’ll give you what you want.” 

“I–I don’t think I can,” you whine, pressing your hips back as he thrusts his fingers forward again, curving them upward, searching for the spongy pad of nerves that rest against the front of your pelvis. 

“Oh? What happened to wanting that A? What about your graduation? You gonna let me fuck up your entire college career? I can do it, you know. I’ve done it to so many simpering freshmen. I fail kids left and right and you’re no different, (Y/N). 

The university lets me ahh–there it is! God, you’re so fucking wet. 

Where was I? The university can’t say no to me; they let me do what I want. I bring in too much money, too many tempting grants, and that’s all they really care about. So what’s it gonna be? Let me see that you can answer this basic crap and I’ll pass you. Or would you like for me to tie you down and force it outta you another way?”

He’s picked up the pace of his fingers as he rambles over you and a swift press against that newly discovered spot inside you has you falling to pieces in his hands, popping up onto your tiptoes and rutting yourself against the surface of the table. “O-ok, God, ok! Just–fucking repeat the goddamn question,” you pant, head slumping forward, forcing his fingers to tighten against your hair to hold you upright. 

“What is the cell membrane?” 

You wince your eyes closed, trying to rack your brain to focus on something other than the heavy pressure of the three fingers that are teasing their way across your dribbling pussy. He’s moving his presses with a lackadaisical, inconsistent rhythm now and it’s hard to fucking think. You can’t tell if his next thrust will be hard, or soft, or so rough that it’s bordering on that bittersweet line of pain. 

You shake your head, doing your best to ignore the mounting pressure that he’s building inside you and the ache of your neck and legs. Finally, after another sharp tap against that secret bunch of nerves at the front of your cunt, you latch onto a vague remembrance. 

“It… it’s a double layer of–of phospholipids that make a boundary between the cell and t-the surrounding… ugh… it controls the passage of materials.”

“Very good. Elaborate on the cellular wall.”

He’s unrelenting in his domineering treatment, twisting and frigging his fingers each time your breath hitches, and your arousal is leaking down your legs, making your skin stick and pull. It’s too much, you can’t! How can he even ask this? Words are falling from your lips incoherently, and all too soon you’re gasping out his name rather than reciting the answer. 

“Cellular–oh, fuck, Shi–Shigaraki–Please, keep–don’t stop! S-Shigaraki, God that… feels… ah–keep going!”

He ignores your request and pulls his fingers away, robbing you of that sweet pressure that he’s so carefully mounted within you. 

“I’ll count that one as incorrect. Your ‘A’ is swiftly becoming an ‘A’ minus, (Y/N)” he snarls, his teeth gritted, hands falling to the swell of your hips, wet fingers digging into your soft skin. 

“What? No! You didn’t give me enough… e-enough time! How can–can you expect me to answer that qui-quickly!”

“Let’s try another.” 

It hurts. That ache that he’s drawn out of you is starting to sting and throb and he’s being such a dick about it! You twist and grind under him, and he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“I don’t–” you protest weakly, your legs trembling and chest heaving under his weight.  

“Do you want this? Wouldn’t you like to pass this class? To graduate with honors?” he growls, leaning closer, his hands braced against you, his fingers no doubt leaving bruises on the supple crest of your hips. 

“You’re such an ass! Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then answer another question. What’s diffusion?”

“D-diffu-diffusion is the process by which molecules move from an a-area of… of… fuck- of high concentration, to low concentration. Shigaraki!”

“I should count that as another miss, but you got the major concept correct.” He removes his fingers from your waist and yanks your ass toward him, keeping your overeager hips away from the fleeting relief of the sturdy table. “Pop your legs together,” he commands, one hand wrapping around your arched throat, squeezing until you obey. His other hand drops to that thatch of curls that rest between your quivering thighs and he gathers up your gossamer strands, rubbing against your clit for one hazy instant, sending a flash of spots across your vision.

“Mmm, now that’s a pretty sight. Good girl, don’t move,” he reminds you and you want to scream at him. Right before you can spit some frustrated vitriol out, he’s releasing your neck, his hands dropping from your skin and letting you fall back to the uneven surface below. Just before your chin contacts the wood, his hand is back in your hair, tugging you upward, holding you a few inches above the table. The sharp pain makes your scalp tingle and you unconsciously rut against the tempting heat that’s now plastered to your ass. He’s hard. You can feel the stiff bulge of his cock straining against the front of his dark jeans, pressing into the cleft of your posterior. 

“T-that’ can’t be comfortable,” you pant, twisting your head so you can look up at him from the curve of your shoulder.

“Oh? You worried about my cock?” he asks, his red eyes flashing down at you challengingly. You don’t bother giving him a verbal response, opting instead to grind your ass up, catching against the jut of his length, earning yourself a low groan. His lips curl when you repeat the motion and you realize you love watching that smug face of his drift into a look of tense pleasure. It makes his scar on his lip flush and those red eyes of his fall to a lazy half mast. He spies your arched brow and pleased grin and pushes himself off of you, leaving you alone and open on the table.   

“Keep pushing your luck. I’m more than happy to drop you back to a B.”

“What?” you scoff, teeth clinking together as you clench your jaw. “I didn’t move!”

“No, but you’re trying to take control of this and we can’t have that can we?” Shigaraki sneers. “Now, how shall I punish you?”

“P-punish me?” you stammer, a chill racing down your spine. 

“Ah, I know. This’ll really piss you off,” he twists from your strained gaze and walks back toward his desk. What? What the fuck does he mean? You can’t see him from this angle, not with the way your legs are stretched and back is lowered, but it doesn’t stop you from trying, your chin lifting upwards as you do your best to keep him in focus. 

Ugh. It’s no use. He’s slipped past your field of vision. 

Hearing is likely your best bet, so you shift your forehead back to the table and listen, straining your ears to pick up any morsel. Something opens and closes and you catch the sound of the wheels of his chair as they shift, squeaking across the floor, and the groaning of the springs when his weight is applied to the cheap leather. 

Okay, so he’s in his chair. Is he just gonna look at you? That’s not… wait… 

There’s a faint clicking sound. 

It’s both familiar and unfamiliar to your ears, but once the teeth slide over the last pull, you realize. It’s a zipper. 

Oh fuck. Is he going to jerk himself off? With a gasp, your head whips back around. He’s still positioned himself away from you, and you can only just make out the sounds that are accompanying the undoubted rise and fall of his fist. All you can see is a tiny sliver of his body, but you catch sight of the coiling muscles on his neck and you notice that his head is dipped forward, pearl white hair settling across the cut of his collarbone. The one red eye that meets yours is blazing and hungry, it makes every hair on the back of your neck stand up.  

God, he’s staring at you, watching you, getting himself off as you’re half naked and bent over a desk in his office, fully subjugating yourself to his whims and fancies for the sake of your grade. 

Damn it, (Y/N). This should not be a fucking turn on. You should be disgusted, but the flush of slick that drips down your thigh says otherwise. 

He lets out a choked moan, picking up the pace of his hand, letting you hear the click and slip of his palm as it strokes up and down his cock. A shiver echoes up your spine and your hips seem to have a mind of their own, grinding your clenched thighs over the dip of the table, easing the clenching pulsations that your cunt is shuddering through you.

“Look at you, so desperate for my touch that you’re humping the fucking table. Such a dirty girl, and so disobedient. You’ve only answered a few of my questions correctly and yet your slutty little mouth and body keep pushing at me. Making me put you in your place. Let me ask you something, why should I go out of my way to fix your grade when you can’t even prove to me you understand the simplest concepts? 

Ah, here’s a thought. What if I told you I’ll wave the other requirements; no more readings, no more quizzes, but I won’t let you cum? What if I just get myself off? You’re putting on a such a good show for me! Why should I bother with seeing that you’re satisfied when that table seems to do the job for you? Sound good? Or would you like for me to come back over there and make you cum?”

“I–I don’t… I don’t want…” You can’t get the words out, your tongue feels leaden between your lips and you can’t think of anything but the steady itch that’s spreading from your clit. 

“Speak up,” Shigaraki demands, slowing his jerking fingers. The chair he’s sitting in groans as he leans forward, and his eyes wide as they take in the delicious sight that’s propped before him. “You don’t want to cum? Is that it? You’d like for me to get myself off and leave you there?”

“No!” you cry out, your fingers digging into the scuffed wood of the table. “I-I want you to make me cum.”

There’s a sharp clatter and you jump at the abrupt noise. It must be the chair you think, your heart pounding against your chest, waiting for Shigaraki’s next move. He only lets a few seconds drift by before he presses himself back to you. He leans his broad chest over your back, the front of his legs pushing against the back of yours. His exposed length is wedged firmly against the cleft of your ass and its tempting hardness makes you squirm under him, but he’s propelling you forward, pinning you against the rough wood, and you can only flail uselessly under his control. His lips skim over your neck and he bites into your skin, sucking and licking bruises as he inches closer to your pulse.  

You say his name pitifully, wantonly, and he lets out a shaky gasp. Something about your tone has shifted something within him and you can feel his cock swelling, dripping a rope of wet pre-cum down your shaking leg. 

He leans away, removing his sticky hardness from your ass. “Seems your priorities have shifted. You’re a little preoccupied right now, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice gravel scraping against your overwhelmed senses. You let out a weak moan and he snaps into action, his fingers pushing under your flattened stomach and tugging against the fabric that he finds. He yanks you upward, pulling your shirt up as he goes. His palms dip under your half lifted bra, and he cups at your breasts, massaging the rounded bulbs and plucking at your peaked nipples. Your head lolls back, and he sucks at your earlobe again, his breath warm and rasping as it passes by. 

“Hold still,” he commands. 

It’s not an easy position, this stretched upward arch that he’s forced you into, but it’s worth it when you feel his cock pushing between your tensed legs. He doesn’t thrust into you, opting to run his weeping tip against your slippery folds, pressing until his bulbous head is twitching against your pulsing clit. 

Goddamn it, you think as he stills, his lips smacking open-mouthed kisses over your shoulder, it’s not enough. You wiggle your hips back and forth and he abruptly exerts a firm pressure against your windpipe, leaving you sputtering and gasping. “What’s wrong? Not happy with this? Do you think you deserve something more? Do you think you’ve earned that?” He shoves you back against the surface of the table, his broad chest following the plane of your back, trapping you under his heavy form. 

You’d replied, you know you must have, but you can’t hear yourself anymore, your attention attuned to the warm length that’s pressed against your shuddering folds. You’d likely thrown in a please for good measure because Shigaraki rewards you with a quick peck to your shivering neck and his thumb, swirling it around your clit, creating a cresting ache that leaves you mumbling incoherently, a thin line of drool slipping from your parted lips. As he keeps that faint osculation up, your fingernails scrape over the wood of the table, your feet lifting you onto your toes, curving your back, and shoving your leaking pussy into his open palm. 

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Shigaraki says, a breathy desperation lingering around the edges of his rasping voice. “But it’s just not enough, right?” 

You nod, licking up some of the excess saliva that’s built under your heavy tongue and crane your head back at him. His eyes are the first thing you see. They’re wild, ravenous and glinting with a roughness that makes you whisper out a soft whine. Fuck. It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re not supposed to want him this badly. Goddamn it. Now that he’s caught your gaze, he won’t let you look away, and he presses himself closer, his cock twitching and warm, the tip rubbing back and forth, keeping time with his circling thumb.

“You gonna fuck me, or not?” you finally ask, unsticking your lips and smirking up at his hardened face. 

“Tch. Don’t rush me,” he grumbles, removing his hand and teasing cock from your cunt, watching as your body convulses under him, your pussy quivering against the excess stimulation that he’s wrought over you. Your thighs burn, aching to break free from his control, to rub against that throb, that tingling that keeps shuddering outward.

“One more question,” he tells you, lifting his dripping thumb to his lips and sucking off the traces of your arousal. The sight of him licking his pink tongue over his gleaming knuckles almost makes you lose your balance, your arms shaking precariously under you. 

“A-another? Come on,” you pout, your eyes following the curve of his wicked lips, watching as his scar quirks upward, amused by your useless defiance. 

“Make you a deal, answer it correctly and I’ll give you my cock. Sound fair?”

“Ugh, whatever, just hurry up,” you snap, so impatient and turned on that you can hardly think. 

The tip of his cock presses against your sopping entrance, pushing forward just enough to part your dripping folds but stopping before he clears that first, tight ring of flesh. The promise of his dribbling tip makes you lose any semblance of self-control. You thrash under him, but he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“No! Don’t stop! Come on Sh-Shigaraki–Don’t be such a fucking–ah–” 

“Do you want this? Do you want my cock?” he growls, leaning over you, his fingers squeezing down, no doubt leaving bruises in the supple crest of your hips. 

“Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then you better answer. What are cytosines?”

“They… they’re n-nitrogenous base… fuck… base that pair… that pair with guanine during D-DNA replication… I–please, please, Shigaraki! Fuck me! I want your cock! Fuck me, fuck me!”

Thankfully, he either takes pity on you, or can’t control himself anymore, his hips surging forward, gliding his thick length into your cunt and snarling at the mind numbing heat that waits for him. He keeps driving upward until he bottoms out, sharp hipbones grinding against the plushness of your ass. 

He’s not gentle with you, no he’s animalistic and raw, his thrusts papping into you with a terrifying strength. You would have liked something slower, something that lets you enjoy each imperfection and dip that raced along his cock, but this, oh, this is an exception because this is perfect. It’s not what you want, but it is what you need. 

The heavy fullness that he’s stuffing you with leaves you breathless, but you somehow manage to gasp out a string of nonsensical praises each time he drives back into you, overwrought by his roughness. 

This coupling isn’t kind, isn’t right, and is not healthy, for either of you. No, not with the way he’s using your shivering body, distracted with slacking that euphoric thrum that’s making his cock pulse and swell inside you.

But fuck it feels good and you can’t help but tremble with delight. These intoxicating thrusts of his ram him up against something that’s buried deep inside you, and each time he hits it another star of bright pleasure races through you. The familiar coiling of release is steadily mounting with each rapid fire rut he gives you and if he could just, ah, there’s something that’s… no, fuck, it’s, it’s not going to work. It feels good, but it’s missing one vital ingredient, one thing that he’s neglected to pay attention to, to notice. 

Your clit needs to be tweaked and rolled, and right now it’s pulsing away against the table, beating a sad tattoo into the grainy wood. Oh well, you think, head fuzzy, lost in the euphoria of his powerful cants, grinding your ass into his hips as he digs into another teeth chattering thrust. He’ll likely finish soon, and you’ll probably need to get yourself off later. It’s not something new, and it’s not like he’s going to care enough to focus on that, on you. This whole thing has been about control, so there’s likely no room for your own pleasure.

“What’s wrong,” he gasps out, his fingers lifting from your hips to curl beside your turned head. 

“What? N-nothing–I–” you pant, eyes rolling back as he hits that spongy patch of nerves again. 

“Tch. Hold on,” he interrupts, his voice rasping and breathy. He pulls himself out of you with a grunt and yanks you upward, hauling you onto the tabletop and flipping you on your back, bending your stiffened legs and bracing your knees against his lean forearms. 

He holds you apart, spreading you open with his powerful hands. You can see him properly now, and the sight makes your breath catch against the back of your throat. Fuck, he looks good. 

His long white hair is draped across his bare shoulders and his eyes are blazing pits of hunger, devouring the sight of you with those red irises. His jaw is clenched, and he glares down at you from his imperious height, his nostrils flaring as he drags in a quick intake of air. To your shock, he gives you a little time to acclimate to this new position, opting to languidly step forward, letting his slippery cock head press and tease at the dip of your opening. But right when you think he’ll move again, he stops, his eyes roving over the lines of your face. 

His sudden stillness makes you peer quizzically up at him and you scoot closer, your feet lifting from the table. The movement snaps him out of his stupor and he grabs your ankles, roughly pinning you back down.

“Keep still,” he snarls through clenched teeth, that scar of his lifting. 

You nod mutely and he rewards your unquestioning obedience with another powerful thrust, sinking his swollen cock back into your waiting cunt. He lets out a sharp groan and grabs at your hips, jerking you forward, already drifting back into that all-consuming rhythm he’d started earlier. His ruts are a little slower from this angle but, in no time at all, that familiar ache pools in your core, stoking and building at an alarming rate. The driving force of his hips soon has you blinking back spots and distant stars, and this time he adds the all important pressure of his thumb, circling the finger pad over your clit and dragging a broken moan from your quivering lips. 

“So that’s what you needed. You close?” he grits out, his lips set in a curled scowl. He’s lost some of that early control, his hips stuttering as they connect with yours, his power lessening, cooling, as he looks for your release. 

“I–I think–oh fuck, do that again. Yes! Just–ah!”

He angles your hips upward and gives your clit another quick oscillation, pressing down until you’re gasping. “There you go. That felt good. You’re getting tighter,” he laughs, looming over you, shoving your heaving chest downward as he jerks your hips into him, forcing your body to do most of the motion, making your shoulder blades scrape across the uneven wood. “Cum for me. Fucking cum on my cock, (Y/N). Cum and I’ll give you your A, I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.”

Your spine arches as you break around him, your cunt greedily pulling him deeper, slipping him past the barrier of your tender cervix and earning you a weak shout of praise from Shigaraki. Seconds later, he’s pulsing and twitching against your walls, the warm pooling of his cum filling you up and spilling down your spread thighs. 

His head drops to your shoulder and the rough skin of his forehead sticks to your sweat dampened flesh. For a long moment you’re both still, each of you struggling to catch your breath, luxuriating in the tingling sensation of release. 

“I fucking hate you, you know,” you gasp out, your arms circling his back, fingertips etching vague patterns over his neck and shoulders. 

“Ha,” he snorts, “I’ll have to remember that. Don’t worry (Y/N), I’ll pay you back for that little remark next time.”

“Oh? Next time?” you chuckle, moaning as he twists out of your hold and pulls his softening length out of you. 

“I’ll fail you on every assignment if you try to keep away,” he threatens, his eyes falling to the gaping mess that he’s left behind. You cross your legs, denying him the satisfaction of leering at your dripping pussy. 

“Fine. But next time, fuck me on something softer than a damn table.”

tags: @spicy-skull​, @xwildskullx​, @yixxes​, @ghstmthr​, @rekoii​, @diaouranask​, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love​, @libiraki​ <--- i’m coming for you. you’re gonna have to read for this, lady. so, uh, i’m officially noneconing you here. 

notes: you made it! this thing is a monster & i’m so sorry i can never stfu

[madswritingvoid]

Afternoon Delight

Pairing: Max Phillips x f!reader

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+ SEE YA MINORS, smut but like soft smut, oral sex (m), masturbation (f), unprotected p in v sex, cockwarming, blood, vampire stuff, Max Phillips is a warning lol

A/N: Yes I 100% think Max would want his name in your phone to be Vamp Daddy and no I will not be taking questions about it at this time. BUT here’s another smut piece about my vampire husband, because I love him.

(Tagging @jettia because apparently she likes pain and wanted to read this if I ended up posting it)

Max Phillips is annoying. Not a joke, or an exaggeration, just a fact. He’s smarmy, sleazy, sneaky, manipulative, seductive, exhausting, and all yours. As much as his “management style” (re: turning everyone into vampires), may seem unethical or out-of-the-box, he really knew how to turn a company around. Surprisingly, when he isn’t being a total frat boy asshole, he’s also a pretty awesome boyfriend. 

Yeah, sometimes you gotta remind him that no Max that isn’t funny or say that again and it’s a stake to the heart and the dick, but overall you know you love him and he loves you. He’d kill for you, literally. So when you hadn’t received your morning “show me your boobs, babe” wake-up text, you knew something was up.

With his cocky attitude and air of self-assurance, you’ve never seen anything really make Max sweat. Not until two nights ago when he said his bosses, the big bag vamps, were coming down for a branch visit today. You glance over at your phone to check the time and saw it was almost lunchtime for you both and decide to shoot him a quick text.

You: I know yours came in today but how’s my big bad vamp doing? xxx

Vamp Daddy🧛🏻‍♂️:   :(((((((((((((

You: Is someone in the need for......

Vamp Daddy🧛🏻‍♂️: yes

You: an afternoon delight?

You: You could have let me finish, but okay.

Grateful you were working from home today, you sent off a final email and decided to take a half day, knowing Max would really need some help to relax. 

You slinked off to your bedroom and changed out of your work-appropriate but very casual matching sweat set to slip into one of Max’s favourite sundresses you have- a deep cranberry with black lace around the bottom and on the chest highlighting your boobs, Max’s favourite, and the length hitting just above your knees made it “easy access” in his words. You keep your natural Zoom meeting makeup on and opt for a quick swipe of your favourite deep red lipstick to match the dress, ready to make Max’s afternoon.

Walking into the familiar office building you can immediately feel the energy is off. Not that it wasn’t always weird, since almost everyone in here was dead, but today it was even worse. Too quiet, too cold. You almost wanted to crack a “jeez, who died?” joke to lighten the mood, but you got the feeling today was not the day and walked right into Max’s office.

“Awww baby, what’s all this?” You coo as you glide over to him. What a sight he is. He’s sitting in his big office chair with his head right on the desk, long arms splayed out in front of him making his big hands hang over the desk’s edge. A total look of defeat. Hearing your voice Max’s head shoots up and immediately you’re hit with a classic Phillips pout, puppy dog eyes in full effect. “Baaaaabe,” he whines while making grabby hands at you until you’re finally within reach. 

Pulling you into his lap, he buries his face in your neck, rubbing his nose up and down the column of your throat as your hands make their way into his hair, massaging his scalp. “Maxie, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You’re only met with a heavy sigh as he takes his head and burrows between your boobs, “Everything,” he mumbles against your chest. “They loved my presentation, but hated the office,” he grumbles.

“Well, that’s easy to fix, we can go out this weekend and get some new decor to liven up the place,” you grin and start really going to town on his scalp making Max almost purr and lean into your touch more. Before you could offer more support he started shaking his head, motorboating you but you could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

“No babe,” he sulks, finally lifting his head up to meet your eyes again, “they hated everyone in the office. Said Andrew was weird and Dave had an ‘offputting’ quality. He’s dead! Almost all of us are dead! What do they expect? And that’s not even the worst part!!!” He moans, “he hated everyone, but liked Evan?” You actually gasp, no one likes Evan. He’s so mopey and annoying, especially after Max bounced back from Evan almost murdering him, showing up to work the following Monday as if nothing happened. “Oh baby, that doesn’t make any fucking sense, I’m so sorry,” you soothe him as your hands move from his hair and start to make their way down to his belt.

Realizing what you’re doing, Max’s whole mood changes. Smirking, he puts on a much more playful pout, “yeah baby,” he coos, “it’s been real hard. But now that you’re here something else has got real hard too, and I think I know how to fix that.” You slide off his lap and onto the floor quickly, Max lifting you up for a moment to slide his now folded suit jacket under your knees in a surprising moment of kindness. Pressing a kiss to his knee as a thank you, you make quick work of his belt and pants and pull out his hardening cock. As you begin to stroke him slowly you make eye contact and spit right on his dick, making him groan.

“Love you baby, let me make you feel good,” you say before taking the tip of his cock in your mouth, swirling you tongue around him and licking the salty precum that was already leaking from him. As you continue to work more of him into your mouth, you can feel Max absolutely melt into his leather chair and take whatever you give him. “That’s it baby, always so so good, always know what I need,” he praises and you moan around his length, the compliment going straight to your core.

Not being able to take it anymore, you snake the hand not pumping the part of him you can fit in your mouth, you slide your hands underneath your underwear and start circling your clit. You moan around his length again and Max slightly bucks his hips, sending him farther down your throat. “Fuuuuuck yes, sweet cheeks, that’s it,” he can’t stop it now as his hips start a shallow bit steady rhythm as he fucks into your mouth. Letting him take what you need you slide two fingers into your dripping pussy, using the heel of your hand to keep rubbing your clit while you pump your fingers.

The only sounds filling the office are Max’s groans and the wet noise of you fucking yourself on your hand. You can tell Max is close because his pace quickens and you can hear the chair arm rests groan under his tight grip until he gives one final thrust, shooting his load right down your throat. Making sure you don’t waste a drop, you continue softly sucking the tip of him as you start to chase your own high until Max uses his vampire speed and strength to take your hand out of your underwear and move you back into his lap. You whine at the loss of your orgasm and stare with lust filled eyes as Max takes the hand that was just inside you and cleans your fingers of the slick covering them.

“Now sweets, you’ve been so good to me, I figured letting you cum on my cock would be an appropriate thank you,” booping your nose he gives a little tug to rip your panties right off and sink you down on his still hard length. Your eyes roll back and you let out a high pitched moan at the stretch, you were already so wet from earlier he was able to push in with no resistance. “There it is champ,” he chuckles, “here’s your reward.” Putting his hands firmly on your hips he starts to move you up and down on his length, his hips meeting you with each thrust. All you can do is throw your arms around his neck to hold on, chanting his name as he hits that sweet spot over and over.

“Had s-such a bad day baby,” he growls, “but this- this pussy always does the trick,” you clench at the praise causing him to thrust a little harder. Knowing your so close to falling over the edge, you decide to give Max another treat, “B-baby,” you whimper, “f-feels so good. I’m so close, b-bite me,” his hips stutter before his pace resumes again. Grabbing your jaw he makes you meet his eyes and asks, “fuck, I love you, but are you sure? You don’t have to-” he groans as you clench around him again, your walls fluttering as the coil continues to tighten. “Yes! Fuck,” you babble, “I’m gonna come baby please,” you run your fingers through his hair and pull his face into your neck.

Feeling how much you’re gripping his length, Max licks across your pulse point and gives the area a little kiss before sinking his teeth into the soft skin. Once you feel his fangs break through, the coil snaps, and you absolutely gush all over his cock. You continue to moan as Max works you through your high as he continues to drink from you. Tugging on his hair twice to tell him to stop, Max stops thrusting into you and licks over the bite marks, his spit healing them instantly. Kissing your neck again you hear a mumbled, “thank you baby,” as Max wraps his arms around you.

You sit there for what feels like forever, him still seated inside of you while you go back to massaging his scalp. Noticing the time you attempt to get up, “Max! Honey, your lunch break has definitely been over I should go home,” his grip tightens around you as you get hit with puppy dog eyes again. “You could go home,” he agrees, “or you could just stay right here with me inside of you while I finish this report. I’m the boss, I can always leave early for my baby,” he gives your ass a gentle slap causing you to clench around him again. Groaning, he leans down to press a kiss to your temple, “besides I’ll definitely want to have you at least one more time before we go. Why don’t you have a little nap on big ol’ me?” He jokes, but you can’t bring yourself to make a come back, already feeling your lids grow tired from what just happened.

Nuzzling into his neck, you give his skin little kisses, “sounds good baby,” you slur, “sounds real good.”

[emilyoftheshadows]

Person A catches a bus home everyday, but today, they're so exhausted that they fall asleep, suddely they feel a light tap on their shoulder and open their eyes to see a cute guy/gal/person smiling at them. "Sorry to wake you, bit this is your stop, i hope you slept well"

So, this is the first piece I have written and posted here! This is a fluffy drabble loosely based on the prompt above as well as some tik tok ideas i've seen. I hope you enjoy and don't judge too hard :)

~~~~~~

Aelin never knew that she could feel such a wide range of emotions in such a short amount of time. The hectic events she had endured earlier in her day had left her drained and in dire need of sleep.

She started out her mornings as usual - brewing her coffee with the help of an overly excited Fleetfoot. On the subway ride to work, coffee in hand, she explicitly remembered checking her emails for any important notices regarding her job. As an advertising agent, she dealt with multiple clients at one time. With her meticulously organized calendar and the help of her overworked assistant Marion, she was usually able to keep everything in check. Today was not one of those days.

As she entered her office, Marion greeted her with her tablet in hand- Aelin’s schedule color coded, labeled and sorted by hour.

 “Good morning Ms. Galathynius, ready to hear your schedule for today?” Aelin nodded, sipping her coffee as Marion listed her client meetings for the upcoming day. As they entered her office, Aelin paused.

“Marion, could you please repeat that first meeting  again?”

“The Havilliard Scotch pitch at 12?” And that was when Aelin knew she was fucked. This pitch was meant for a well known drinking company in New York, fast on the come up. Havilliard Sr. was known to be picky about his branding, scrutinizing most agencies that had helped him before. She had barely gotten this client, practically begging Nehemia for the job. As she worked the branding, she had become worried about the content she was producing.

She was so worried about this pitch, that she had taken her laptop home last night in hopes of triple checking her work for mistakes and to fine tune some details. And that's where her laptop was at that moment. At her apartment, across town, sitting on her desk, collecting dust. Her mind raced at how to solve her predicament. The subway ride to and from her apartment was too long of a trip to make before the meeting and, like an amateur, she hadn’t saved her files anywhere else but her laptop. She was completely fucked. 

Marion stood in the doorway, confused on what was going on in Aelin’s head. Aelin decided to finally release herself from her stupor. “Marion, could you please go find Aedion for me? And tell him it’s an emergency.”

With a determined look on her face, her assistant went as fast as her short legs could carry her to Aedion’s office on the adjacent part of the building floor she was on. Within minutes, Aedion was standing at her door, panting like he had just sprinted the fastest race of his life. The good thing about having her overbearing cousin work with her, is that she knew that in any problem he would help in an instant. And this was one hell of a fucking problem.

“What happened Aelin? Are you okay? Were you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

“You idiot I am physically fine, but still screwed and I need your help.” Aedion released the first breath Aelin had seen him take since entering her office.

“You know, when Marion power walked into my office saying you had an EMERGENCY and she didn’t know what was wrong with you, I definitely thought you would be passed out on your floor with blood on your face. But, you know, thanks for the heart attack. Really woke me up this morning.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes at him. He was more dramatic than her, and that spoke volumes in itself. 

“Aedion, please it really is an emergency. I have the big pitch for the Havilliard Scotch today and I left my laptop with the presentation at my apartment.” Aedion’s eyes widened in surprise. He knew that Aelin had been obsessed about this pitch and that mistakes like this only happened to her once in a blue moon. Aelin saw understanding dawn on his face and took that as a sign to continue.

“Now, I know a while back I sent you the rough drafts of the branding from when I first got the pitch. Is there any chance that you have the email or presentation saved still? If I have the basis of the presentation, I have an hour to build on it and hopefully fix this.”

Aedion’s face fell at the request. “We can go look, but you know I’m not the best at organizing my files Ace. It could be anywhere on my computer or not at all.” With those reaffirming words, Aelin and Aedion walked at a brisk pace back to his office. Combing through Aedion’s computer was an agonizing process. There were files saved from years ago that should’ve been deleted, and backtracking through all the contents of his computer made Aelin want to stab her eyes out. But it was all worth it, because hidden in the depths of this man’s terribly organized computer was the presentation. With a quick click of a button, she emailed the document to herself. She gave a half ass hug to Aedion, then practically ran to her office to start reworking her pitch on the computer there.

--

Aelin believed it was pure adrenaline that enabled her to finish her pitch in time for the Havilliard meeting. With a strong foundation laid out before her from her first draft, she had constructed almost her exact pitch that was left at home. Aelin waited for the Havilliards in the boardroom, smoothing out her clothes as she paced at the front. Far too soon, Marion escorted Havilliard Sr., Dorian Havilliard, and their close friend and partner Chaol Westfall into the room for her presentation. The three men had sat down in silence with no introduction, except for a small encouraging smile from the younger Havilliard. Taking that as her sign to start, Aelin cleared her throat.

“Hello gentlemen, today I want to present to you the future of Havilliard Scotch…”

---

As the men had exited the room single file, Aelin finally allowed herself to relax. That had felt like the longest pitch of her life. Going into the meeting, she had known the men were notorious for being extremely serious and critical of their agents. What she had not expected was the whispered words between the men after she had finished her presentation. As she looked on, Dorian Havilliard had finally broken away from their circle to address her.

“Miss Galathynius, thank you for your time. We will get back to you shortly about our decision to run with this branding or not.” With a quick nod and gesture to his companions, the trio had stood up and left the room. She was utterly shocked. Aelin had poured her sweat and tears into this pitch, quite literally, and they had just thanked her and left. No critiques, no opinions, no nothing. 

Quite honestly, Aelin was exhausted. She had spent most of her brain power reworking that pitch in that 45 minutes before that meeting and she had nothing left to give today. Yet, she still had a full schedule left to woo clients and work on her other projects. By the time Aelin trudged back to the subway, she was ready for a nice dinner at home followed by a restorative night of sleep with Fleetfoot at her side. 

Now, as she entered the subway, she immediately noticed the mystery man sitting down a few feet away from her. The man was moderately built, with muscles that were outlined by the fabric of his long sleeve t-shirt. His style was simple with a pair of nice jeans and Doc Marten boots, but that just allowed one's focus to settle on the beautiful creation that was his face. Mystery man had a strong jawline, lined with a bit of stubble and scruff. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green like none that she had seen before, his head topped with luscious silver hair. As the subway started, Mystery Man continued to sketch drawings into his book. Now, Aelin was never one to back  down from an opportunity to flirt with one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. She was a single woman in a big city, why the hell not. But her day had taken a toll on her, and she just didn’t know if this was the right time or place. So, she opted to put in her headphones as she waited for her stop, listening to relaxing music to calm her anxieties regarding the failed Havilliard pitch. 

 Seeing that her stop was next, Aelin rose from her seat to wait in line for the doors to open. As she waited, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Low and behold, there was the Mystery Man standing next to her with a piece of paper in hand. As she pulled her headphone out, the man silently handed her the paper. Looking down, she saw a pencil sketch of herself on the subway. The drawing was beautifully done with bold lines and harsh shading, contrasted by highlights created from the fluorescent lights of the subway. Her eyes welled up, immediately grateful for this thoughtful gift after such a horrible day. The Mystery Man saw her emotions, startled to see tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy. I just… I like to draw and when I saw you… I mean, it’s just you’re so stunning..” The man’s face flushed red as he tried to justify his beautiful art. Aelin laughed out loud for the first time today at his misunderstanding of her swell of emotions. 

“Oh no, these are just tears of..uhmm.. happiness? I guess…” She started to flush at her own awkwardness, trying to explain her emotions this time.

“I just had a really rough day and feel like shit. But this drawing is beautiful and I really am grateful that such a talented artist like yourself chose me as your muse today.” Aelin watched as the Mystery Man reacted to such a lavish compliment, somehow developing an even deeper blush with a shy smile . Gaining confidence from his reaction, she decided to make her move before she exited for her upcoming stop. 

“Hey, Mystery Man, why don’t I give you my number? Seeing that I am your muse and all, I would really like to learn more about your art.” It was a subpar pickup line at best, but hey, she had a long day and for the circumstance she thought it good enough. The man gave a deep timbered laugh at her pickup line, clearly enjoying their conversation now. 

“I think I might be one step ahead of you actually. Flip the drawing over.” As she flipped the paper, she saw a messy scrawl with the name Rowan, and what she could only assume was his number. The sight of these two things brought her complete giddiness. Giddiness that made you want to jump in the air and pump your fist because you're so excited. She looked up at Rowan, smirking as she tucked the piece of paper into her purse.

As the subway doors opened and they were pushed apart by bypassers, she turned around one last time to look at the man who had brightened her day beyond belief. She winked at Rowan as she walked away, not missing the wide smile he gave in return as the subway doors closed and continued on to the next stop.

[imnotasuperhero]

Is your heart taken? (Is there somebody else on your mind?)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Type: Angsty fluff

Summary: Are you really out of time? Is there a chance for you to have her?

Wordcount: 1169

A/N: I honestly want to punch myself for loosing precious time from work, but like.. my muses decided to bully me so here you have a brand new Wanda fic to keep you entertained till tomorrow or whenever I get to write again. I hope you enjoy this messy idea that I did not proo fread (:

Maybe you should've acted when you realized it. Maybe all you needed was to work up your courage faster.

Nursing the drink in your hand, you watched from the distance how Wanda taught the humanoid how to dance, smiling that something that got your insides feeling funny.

'How you wanted to be the one at the receiving end,' you laughed dryly.

The longing for the endless nights talking and gushing together about whatever was the topic of the moment making your heart clench in pain.

If you've only spoken when the chance was given...

You were a little too late now. 

"Sacrilege." A husky voice took you out of your reverie.

"What is it?" You questioned accepting the drink Natasha offered.

"The fact that you're drinking watery alcoholic drinks," the redhead gagged mockingly as she took your -now- warm drink.

"Ehh... it'll help to avoid a headache tomorrow." You stated, shrugging it off.

You thanked the Universe every day for having Natasha by your side. The redhead succeeded at keeping your mind out of Misery Lane for the rest of the night. Either cracking jokes or making fun of Steve's goofy movements.

But daylight came and the spell broke, leaving you in the harsh reality you found yourself. 

All because you didn't have the balls.

Looking up from your coffee, you smiled back at the brunette sitting in front of you.

“Good morning,” she chirped.

“Morning, Witchy.” Your heart jumped at the giggle that escaped her. The nickname always had the same reaction. And you patted yourself on the back mentally for a job well done, every time.

“Do you have plans for today besides training?” She asked before sipping her tea.

“Shopping with Nat, I think?”

“You think?” She teased. 

“It all depends on how her meeting with Fury goes,” you explained nonchalantly.

“Well, I could always go with you if she can’t,” Wanda smiled timidly and your fingers itched to pinch her cheeks. She couldn’t be cuter.

“You can tag along, she won’t mind.” You found yourself offering and what the fuck?  

“Oh no, I don’t want to crash your date,” she ushered to decline.

“Date? We’re not- oh, God,”

You could feel your cheeks getting hot at the way she smiled at you. Of course, she’d get the wrong picture.

“We’re not together,” you quickly explained.

“But last night-”

“Last night was nothing,” Natasha appeared, saving your ass -as always. “Sam bet she wouldn’t kiss me, so I helped her win 20 bucks.” The redhead kissed your cheek before walking to the cupboards for an energetic bar.

“Oh,” Wanda eyed you both suspiciously, but she didn’t comment on it.

“Shall we train?” Natasha asked raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow in complicity and you found yourself practically speeding away from the kitchen.

***

Your body was aching after the monumental kick in the ass Natasha gave you. Something she insisted was your weakness clouding your reflexes. And you couldn’t refute her. 

Your mind hadn’t left the conversation you’ve had with Wanda earlier today.

You just wanted to crawl up in bed and rest. The warm shower did little to help your sore muscles. But here you were, standing in front of the mirror trying outfits like a fifteen years old going out on her first date. 

‘It was not a date’ you reminded yourself, opting for a plain hoodie and skinny jeans.

“Finally,” Natasha stood up from her place on the couch. “You take so long, woman.” She walked towards the garage, a giggly Wanda hot on her heels.

“God, we both know I never talk to you. But if you really exist, please help me survive this torture,” you mumbled, the grip on your car keys tightening.

The way to the mall was spent between singing whatever song came out the radio and laughing at Natasha’s jokes. The little glances you threw her through the rearview mirror only increased her defying personality. She was taking great joy from the fact that Wanda’s hand seemed to find your thigh whenever she cackled over.

Just when you thought you couldn’t have it worst, you found yourself choking on your ice cream in front of Wanda laughing hysterically at your reaction.

“I hate you,” you coughed to Natasha when you could gather yourself.

“You’re too easy, lyubov moya.” She smirked and you swore the reason you didn’t smack it off of her face was Wanda staying in front of you trying to calm herself.

After a few more bags on your arms -courtesy of Tony’s black card- and more giggles from Wanda at your expense - thanks Natasha, all three of you made your way to your car, already planning a girls night. More like Wanda and Natasha throwing in ideas and you just agreeing to whatever they picked. Your mind was split between the road in front of you and Wanda’s persistent hand on your thigh.

To say you found yourself swallowing down the need to scream every now and then, was an understatement.

Of course, you were cursed to a lifetime of bad luck. You should've known better by now.

***

Once settled on Natasha’s bed with a bunch of snacks scattered around you three, Wanda excused herself for a moment and Natasha took advantage of the opportunity.

“She likes you, dumbass.”

“No need to be rude,” you threw a Cheeto at her.

“It wouldn’t be me,” she picked it up to pop it in her mouth. “Come on, you know I’m right.”

“Perhaps,” you looked down to your fidgeting hands.

“Hey, I’m serious.” Natasha nudged you to look at her. “I’m a spy, I realize things faster than average people. Wanda likes you,”

“It didn’t seem-”

“Forget what happened last night. Vision can’t love her the way you do,” she shrugged. 

“You’re making it really hard for me to get over her,” you shook your head. “Besides, I’m already late.”

“Late for what?” Of course, Wanda decided that moment was perfect to return.

“She was thinking about purchasing this nice pair of snickers, but the store run out,” Natasha saved you and you smiled, thanking her.

“Oh, do you know if they’re getting a new shipment or something?” Wanda laid in front of you, her head on your lap.

“I sent an email, I’m waiting for the reply.” You couldn’t help yourself, almost squealing like a teenage girl as your fingers brushed through her brown locks, earning a content sigh from the witch.

Maybe Natasha was right; maybe you weren’t late yet. Or perhaps, the courage building rapidly inside you could turn into a ticking bomb ready to explode in your face.

Either way, you decided to leave the repercussions of your actions to your future self. The pleasure of Wanda’s warm body against yours was too strong to ignore, the itching on your fingers to caress whatever inch of her you could reach -even in a platonic way- providing a much-needed comfort for whatever the future threw at you. After all, friends did cuddle each other.

---------

Taglist: @marvelfansince08love @rooskaya-yelena

[arazialotis]

Long Distance

Pairing: Dean × Reader

Word Count: Around 1700

Summary: Dean and Y/N have been separated during the holidays due to a string of hunts but Dean has a thought to make the distance seem not so far apart.

Warnings: Language, General SPN spooky stuff

This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as hobby. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

-----

Nights came early this time of year, each day growing darker a little earlier. It was hard to fight off the fatigue that crept in every passing moment. Even harder so with Dean out of town on another string of hunts. You sat in the picture window curled up in a fuzzy blanket with a warm cup of tea and a new book. Though you had a corner lamp turned on, the Christmas lights outside bounced off the white snow, illuminating the world and keeping the dark at bay. 

Your phone had occasionally been buzzing as Dean updated you on his progress in a new town. You did what you could to not worry, to have faith, but each day he was gone you needed distractions to keep your mind off it. And of course, communication. The longer he went without an update, the more your stomach turned. 

Though you were entranced with the novel, methodically flipping pages and on the edge of your seat, as soon as the phone sounded, you threw the book down only focusing on him. 

You answered with a pant of excitement. “Hey babe.” 

Dean’s smile practically shined through the receiver. “Evenin’ Y/N. Man it's good to hear your voice.” 

“Yours too.” You echoed setting your tea down on the ledge as you started pacing the floor. “How’s the first day been?”

“Ah, you know, just getting settled and the feel for things. Wish I had your mind here to sort things out but this has been a long stretch, it’s starting to drag. It was good for you to stay home.” He paused waiting for a reply. “This’ll be the last one, promise.” 

“Don’t say that.” You chided knowing fully well he easily broke these promises. “You are doing good work. If you need to keep going, that’s alright. Just promise me you’ll come home eventually.” “You know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“And besides.” You sighed. “I’m still here virtually, put me together the case details tonight and I’ll scour over them.”

Dean’s blush heated up the air around you as he shamefully admitted. “I already sent them to Sam.” 

“Ugh! What? God Da…” Dean’s chuckle cut you off. You rubbed your brow reminding yourself it wasn’t a competition. “I want to help too.” You whined. 

“Okay, okay.” His voice faded. “I’m sending them now.” 

You looked at your phone waiting for the email to come through. A few moments passed and it eventually did. He had sent over a few news articles, pdfs, and a word doc of his own notes. 

“Hmmm… it’s definitely a werewolf.” You teased. “Shut up.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid enough to get stumped by an oversized rabid poodle.” 

“I’ll shoot you some real ideas by tomorrow at the latest.”

 “Don’t feel rushed, I got some pretty good leads to follow up on tomorrow.” He assured. “Alright, enough work talk. What about you? How was Thanksgiving?” 

“I mean, it wasn’t the same without you and everyone else. But uh, I still tried to make the most of it. Brussels, beans, wild rice, potatoes…” You listed. “Mashed?” Dean interrupted. 

“Pfft. Of course. Cranberries. Oh, I did a cornish hen cause like, what the fuck am I going to do with a whole turkey? I already have enough leftovers to last me ‘til Christmas. Tell me you had something more than deli meat turkey.”

“Don’t worry about me babe.” He lightly chuckled. “Denny’s got me covered.” 

“Dean.” You scolded.

“Pie? Please tell me you had pie.” He begged. 

“No way I’m having pie without you.”  

“But.. But… Thanksgiving.” Dean pouted. 

You giggled at his adorable antics. “There’s one waiting in the freezer for when you get back.” “Yes! Cherry?” He pleaded. 

“Of course…” You giggled together until a knock sounded at the door. “Hey, hold on a sec.” 

“What is it?” Dean’s voice grew concerned. He heard the door open, a soft thank you, and the door closing before a bit of rustling. “Oh, nothing.” You fiddled with the box and the phone. “Just looks like a package for you.” Dean licked his lips with anticipation. “Why don’t you go ahead and open it for me?” You wrinkled your nose, unsure if you wanted to. “Really?” 

“I’m sure.” 

You grabbed a kitchen knife to hack away at the tape. Dean sat down on the motel bed anxiously waiting for you to find what was inside. 

“It’s um… it’s.” You pulled it out further inspecting it. “It’s a lamp?” 

Dean grinned ear to ear waiting for you to figure it out. “A long distance lamp? What?” “I found it online. You have one and I have one.” He explained. “I felt bad the last hunt with the bad reception. My lamp will light up when you touch it and vice versa.” 

“What?” You squealed. 

“Yeah. It’s an early Christmas gift.” Your heart melted.  “Go plug it in.” He ordered before you could respond. 

“Dean…” His thoughtfulness nearly brought you to tears. “Go!” He repeated before you got too sappy. 

After a few minutes of him guiding you through the set up, you were ready to test it out. “Okay, ready?” He asked, his hand hovering over the lamp on his end. 

“Yes.” You sat on the floor staring at the dark lamp. “Nothings happening.” You sighed. “Oh, wait!” It was dim at first but slowly turned into a green glow reminding you of his eyes. “Oh my gosh.”

“Your turn.” You pressed the top of yours sending him a warm purple glow. You could hear his smile over the phone. 

“See, now we can talk to each other even without the phones.” 

“Dean. This is… it’s… thank you.” Was all you could muster to say. “I’ll keep it by my bed so I can say good night and good morning.” “Me too sweetheart.” Dean agreed. “And in case anything happens to my phone or I get stuck in another dead area, you’ll know not to worry.”

The two of you spent another good hour talking; tentatively setting up holiday plans, explaining the unexpected twist in your book, and thrilling him with all the juicy details of exactly what you were going to do to him when he finally did make it home. You read a few more pages before finally calling it a night. Tucked into a bundle of blankets, you reached to your nightstand sending him a final thought of the night. A few moments later came the dim green glow. Though it was just a light, it made you feel as though he was there, his arms wrapped around you making your heart warm. 

When Dean awoke the next morning, the lamp next to him was already glowing purple. He smiled, typical that you would be the first to rise. After a yawn and deep stretch, he sent the thought back to you before going to freshen up and shower. The hot water and steam soothed his sore muscles and the tension he held in his shoulders if only for a brief minute. Towel wrapped around his waist and clean shaven, he came back out to get dressed in a suit for the day only to find the light had not faded. With another chuckle he assumed you must have been on the same schedule and sent another touch back before heading out for the day. 

From the morning, he was in a sprint; talking with the local police department, interviewing witnesses, consoling family members. Dutifully, he kept you updated on his progress hoping to hear back from you soon on any thoughts yet you were quiet. He wondered if he had mixed up your work schedule again. Having gone nonstop throughout the day, he opted for an early dinner back at the hotel room. 

Entering back to the room with his Chinese takeout, he immediately noticed the lamp was still on. He set down his food on the table and pulled out his phone. 

‘The lamp doesn’t need to fully replace the phones.’ He texted you, adding a little laughing emoji hoping you wouldn’t be offended by him calling out your silence today. 

He popped open his laptop and dug into the Mongolian beef hoping to review any ideas you had come up with. But you hadn’t emailed him like you said. It was still early enough in the day, and especially if you had worked, maybe hadn’t had time to get around to it. He pulled up Sam’s email instead, reviewing notes and potential leads. 

An hour had passed and the light still glowed purple. Thinking it must be broken, Dean meandered over to the plug resetting it. The only other explanation would be your hand on top of it consistently which didn’t make any sense. The lamp powered back up and momentarily was dark before the purple hue came through again. 

“This is weird.” Dean muttered to himself. 

He walked back over to the table and grabbed his phone and dialed your number. After two rings, it answered. 

Dean chuckled, thankful to finally have gotten you. “Either these things are malfunctioning or you must really miss me.” He heard a deep breath from the other side of the line. 

“Y/N?” His voice dropped. “Sweetheart, are you there?” A sinister voice crackled on the other end. “It’s been a long time Dean.” 

Dean’s heart dropped to his stomach. Panic and anger rose to his chest. It was a voice he could never forget. “Alastair.” 

“Now I was hoping to find you home when I stopped by but this pretty little lady said you were out on business.” Alastair's voice delightfully slithered. 

His jaw clenched. “If you’ve touched a single hair on her head, I swear to God…” Dean spat. 

Amusement rose into laughter. “What makes you assume I could harm such a delicate creature. Her neck as easy to snap as a sparrow's."

“You better pray that's not what I find when I get back.” Dean threatened already furiously packing his bag. 

“Its not her I want, it’s you.” Alastair clarified. “But I guess that all depends on how long you take getting back home Dean. I might become bored.” 

-----

TAGS:

Forevers: @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @jotink78@blushingdean @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21@carryonmyswansong @atc74 @superapplepie @cassieraider@adaliamalfoy @iwriteaboutdean @spnbaby-67@monkeymcpoopoo @adoptdontshoppets @maddiepants@onceuponathreetwoone @thisismysecrethappyplace

Dean x Reader: @akshi8278 @boxywrites @its-not-a-tulpa @tacklesackles @aubreystilinski @iamabeautifulperson18@jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @ria132love​

[sunshinejihyun]

The Three Times He Realized He’s in Love || Zen Ryu

Summary: A story told through the eyes of Zen about the highs and lows of his first love.

Word Count: 5.0K

Masterlist

The first time Zen realized he was in love with you was at the second RFA party. You were there with a date, and Zen wasn’t him.

“Zen!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms around your best friend’s neck. “Come dance with me!” The official party was over but you, Zen, and the rest of the RFA stayed behind at the venue, opting to take advantage of the open bar.

Zen rolled his eyes and rested his hands on your hips, failing to notice Jumin glaring at him from across the room. “You’re drunk, MC.”

You brushed your nose against Zen’s, looking at him adoringly and he huffed as he felt your breath brush over his lips. This was torture to him, absolute torture. “Of course I’m drunk, since none of you are using the open bar, I might as well give our bartender something to do!” You ran your hand gently through his hair and giggled as Zen leaned slightly into your touch. “Speaking of being drunk, why aren’t you?”

This wasn’t like you, in the year or so that he’d come to know you, he never once saw you with a drink in your hand. Now, you’re standing in front of him, your cheeks permanently rosy as you talked to him, standing way too close for someone who arrived on the arm of the trust fund kid. “Someone has to be sober enough to make sure you don’t make stupid decisions since apparently your date can’t do that.”

You brought your face as close to his ear as you could, despite the obvious height difference and Zen’s breath hitched. “Come on Zen,” your lips were so close to his ear, close enough for your breath to brush against his throat and Zen was sure you could feel his pulse racing. “Live a little.” You smiled and whipped your head towards Jumin who called your name. Looking back at Zen apologetically, you let go of his neck. “I should go, I’m sorry.”

When you walked away, Zen’s heart cracked and he called out to you. “Don’t drink too much more! Jumin will actually kill me. I heard he has people to do that job.”

You turned back to Zen and sent him a wink. “I’ll be fine, Zen. I’ll find you later.” You blew him a playful kiss, something that he should be used to by now but definitely wasn’t and Zen felt his neck and cheeks heat up.

“See ya later,” he called back, but you were already with Jumin, laughing and smiling and trying to get him to dance with you, although there was no music. If it was Zen in that position, he’d have pulled you close and sang in your ear as you slow danced together.

Zen wandered around the party venue for a while before finding a quiet room and taking a moment to breathe. Flopping down on a huge chair, he took his hair out of the ponytail he was currently sporting and he sighed. God, was he an idiot. How stupid was he to believe that he had a chance with you, his best friend in the whole world, the girl he shared a toasted marshmellow with at the first RFA party, the girl who was dating his sworn mortal enemy.

Zen didn’t mean to fall in love with you, not in the slightest. He loved having you as a best friend and in all honesty, he didn’t even realize he was in love with you until a few weeks ago. You were sitting on one end of his couch, silently answering emails that party guests had sent you, and he was sitting on the other, muttering the lines for his new role to himself under his breath.

“Do you need help?” You had set aside your laptop and was now looking at Zen, curling into the cushions more.

Zen looked up and his heart stopped. This was the first sign he felt something more than friendship towards you. You were wearing one of his sweatshirts he had earlier hung over the end of the couch that he told himself he would remember to put away. He didn’t, and now he was so grateful for that, and for the fact that he liked to keep his place cold, so that he could see you in his clothing. “If you’d like to help, that’d be good. But I know you’re busy so if you need to keep preparing for the party, please do so. I can always practice in the bathroom mirror, so I can look at myself to make sure my expressions are right.”

You silently held out your hand for the script he had been agonizing over and he gave it to you, moving closer to you so that he could see the script as well when you ran lines with him. With your elbows bumping together every once in a while, you stayed up until early morning with Zen working on his lines and facial expressions and when you fell asleep in the middle of him practicing one of his monologues, he felt his heart burst with adoration for you. This wasn’t how he should feel for a friend.

After sitting and wallowing in self doubt for a while, Zen decided it was time to head home. It was late, he was tired, and quite frankly, he was just ready to be alone, and this party was starting to drag on a little too long for his liking. So pulling up his metaphorical big boy pants, Zen marched down the stairs and when he reached the bottom, you were practically in his arms.

“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you.” You almost purred this into Zen’s ear and hell, if it wasn’t causing him to feel all these types of feelings he shouldn’t feel for his best friend. He had to remind himself that this was the alcohol in your system talking. You were dating Jumin and you only ever thought of Zen as a best friend.

“I was in another room. Hey, I should head home.” You pushed a piece of hair out of your face

Zen started leading you to the light switch on the other side of the room. As light filled the room, there was a collective groan from the rest of the RFA members who were hanging out in the dark. “Sorry guys, I’m heading home.” Zen called out to your friends, making you pout and throw your arms around his neck again in a tight hug.

Zen’s arms barely wrapped around your middle before Jumin made his way over you the both of you. “Darling, are you ready to go home?” Jumin asked you, tightly smiling at the position he had found you and Zen in. Zen’s arms went limp and he gently detached your arms from around his neck.

You slowly turned your head towards Jumin, a smile still plastered on your face and you blinked once, the smile disappearing. “Yeah sure,” you turned back towards Zen, who was still trying to get the feel of your body against his out of his mind and you gave him another tight squeeze. “Don’t be a stranger. I’ll see you soon.”

Jumin silently escorted you to the car that was waiting for the both of you and you climbed into the back seat after Jumin, already reaching for the music when Driver Kim started the car. “Can we please keep it quiet? My head hurts,”

You retracted your hand, quickly picking up on the fact that Jumin was upset at something. “What’s wrong?”

Jumin’s hands clenched the fabric of his pants and it took all he had in him not to pull you into his lap and whisper in your ear how you were his, and only his; tell you how jealous he was over your friendship with Zen. “Nothing’s wrong, darling. I’m fine.”

You sighed and rested your hand on Jumin’s thigh and he set his right hand over your left. “Jumin, I may be drunk, but I’m not stupid. I know when my boyfriend’s upset. What’s wrong?”

Jumin shook his head, watching out the window as the car pulled up to the front entrance of the penthouse that you and he now lived in together. “It’s stupid, forget it.”

You shook your head and unbuckled your seatbelt. “Jumin, I don’t feel so good.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t expect you to feel great. You drank a lot tonight.”

You shook your head, pressing a hand to your chest. “No, like I really don’t feel good. I think I’m gonna pass out.”

Jumin ran a hand up and down his face, taking a deep breath, which was a clear sign he was stressed, and got out of the car, walking over to your side and picking you up. “Let’s get you inside and into bed. You just need some rest.” You silently agreed, pressing your nose into the side of his neck and peppering kisses on the underside of his chin. “MC, you should stop. You’re drunk and I don’t want us to do anything we might regret in the morning.”

You pouted against his neck, but stopped your attack on his jawline and Jumin escorted you both to the shared bedroom you both had been sleeping in for the past year. By the time he had gotten changed into pajamas, you were fast asleep on top of the bed, your party dress still on and makeup smudged across your face and Jumin felt his heart thud in his chest with adoration as he watched you sleep, wondering how lucky he was to have someone like you love him.

-

The first time Zen got his heart broken by you was a week after the finale night. You were laying on his bed, giggling as Jumin continued to text you.

“Do you want to play Super Mario Bros?” Zen had spent 10 minutes pulling out his old Gamecube because he knew you loved to play on it.

You looked up from your phone and it was like you were in a trance. You were there physically but mentally, you were with Jumin. “Sorry, what?”

Zen’s face fell and he could tell you had no idea what you were doing wrong. “I said: do you wanna play this game with me?”

You sighed and rolled off his bed, grabbing your wool sweater off his floor; it got hot so you took it off, opting to just have the black long sleeved shirt on that you always wore underneath. “I should probably get going, Jumin will be home soon and will expect me to be there.”

Zen rubbed a hand over his face, something he noticed he was doing a lot more than usual; he was more stressed than usual which made him more stressed, since stress lead to pimples. He had finally gotten used to the fact that you were dating that jerk, and now he also had to deal with the fact that he was pretty sure he was in love with you? “Okay, I can drive you home.”

He went to go grab a sweatshirt and his motorcycle keys but you put a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Driver Kim is waiting, but thank you for the offer!” Stopping to slightly ruffle his hair, you smiled down brightly at him. “I’ll see you soon!”

Zen felt the bitter sting of rejection in the back of his mouth as he watched you walk off, smiling at something on your phone. Probably a message from Jumin, something that Zen desperately didn’t want to hear about, but something he wanted to do for himself.

-

The first time Zen got his heart broken by you was on a Monday morning. Zen pulled his motorcycle to the front of the penthouse at 9:40 AM, giving two quick beeps to signal to you that he was there. You and he were going to meet up with Yoosung to help him move out of his apartment. Now that he had finished school, he was going to move in with Zen to save some money while looking for a job. And let’s be honest, them living together would probably be a good thing since Yoosung didn’t take good care of himself and Zen needed something to focus on other than you and his acting gigs, since when he was thinking about practicing now, his mind wandered back to you on his couch that night.

You of course offered up your help when Yoosung had asked for some help packing things and since you volunteered, so did Zen. He watched you open the door and he watched you walk down the front steps of you house, a smile playing on your lips.

“Good weekend?” Zen asked you as you sat yourself down behind him, buckling the helmet he always had strapped to the back of his motorcycle now.

“The best,” the smile still hasn’t left your face. Zen loved to see you happy, don’t get him wrong, but he knew you were happy because of Jumin and that killed him, more than he would like to admit. “Can I tell you something?”

Zen glanced at you as he continued watching your fingers struggle with the buckle before playfully batting your hands away and buckling it on his own. “I’m your best friend,” Zen found that recently, had trouble saying that phrase but he did nonetheless. “You can tell me anything.”

You glanced at the light haired boy and he looked back at you, giving you a reassuring smile. “Jumin’s talking about us starting to plan a wedding.”

Zen’s heart fell to his feet with those words and you looked down, picking at the chipped nail polish on your fingers. “Congrats,”

Zen couldn’t think. His head was pounding and his breathing was starting to become erratic. He started his motorcycle and waited until your arms were wrapped comfortably around his midsection- he didn’t want to start riding until he was sure you were holding on safe. “Are you okay?” You shouted over the wind blowing as he started to pick up speed. “Listen Zen, I know it’s a big deal but this was always going to happen.”

He zoned you out, not wanting to hear about this right now. Motorcycle riding was supposed to be his escape from reality but right now, it seemed he had to face reality more than ever. And the reality was that he wanted to be the one planning a wedding with you. He wanted to be the one to make you smile and hold you when you were upset. He wanted to put on silly performances with ridiculous costumes just to hear your laugh at any time he would like. He didn’t want you with Jumin, not in the slightest.

You looked shut your mouth quickly once you realized Zen wasn’t paying attention, hurt at the way he brushed you off. Once he pulled up to Yooosung’s apartment building, you immediately got off the bike and started to head up to his door. “Zen, I’ll be back in a moment and then you and I can go get tape and boxes together.”

“Don’t bother,” Zen spat but it was too late, you were already too far away to hear him. As soon as you were out of sight, Zen broke down, tears streaming down his face faster than he thought possible.

There was a gentle hand resting on his shoulder and Zen hastily brushed the tears away that were on his cheeks and chin. Looking up, he saw Yoosung standing next to him, an apologetic look on his face. “What happened?”

Zen blew his nose into a tissue that he had in his pocket, Yoosung cringing at the noise. “Jumin happened,” Hestayed quiet, waiting for Zen to continue. “Stupid Jumin came and just wooed MC and took her away from me before I could even have a chance and-”

“You love her,” Yoosungstated, staring at Zen. He nodded, more tears starting to well up in his eyes.

“I love her so much, man. And she broke my heart.”

-

The second time Zen realized he was in love with you was when you showed up crying at his doorstep at 11:07 PM, three months after he had last seen you. He didn’t blame you for not coming around, you were busy planning a wedding and whenever you talked about it, Zen would withdraw himself from the conversation. He just didn’t want to hear about it. “MC?”

You wiped at your eyes, looking at Zen. “I’m sorry I know you’re mad at me for whatever reason and I probably shouldn’t even be here but I needed to see you.”

Zen felt his resolve fall away and he pulled you into his arms, his shirt slowly starting to wet because of the tears falling. “What’s going on?”

“I’m pregnant,” you sobbed out and Zen felt the world crash around him. He tightened his arms around you, opting to stay silent. “Zen, I’m so stupid. A kid was never supposed to be part of the plan and I know Jumin doesn’t even want one. I don’t know what to do.”

“Shh,” Zen quieted you, rocking you back and forth. “I’m not gonna lie, that sucks.” You let out a breathy laugh and Zen’s heart swelled with affection at that sound. “But we can get through this. Together.”

“Jumin doesn’t want anything to do with the baby.” Zen felt his pulse quicken when you looked at him with big eyes. “Or me, for that matter.”

“I can help you raise this baby, MC. We can move in together. I don’t have to work late hours anymore. I-I was supposed to go on tour but I can decline the role. I just want to be there for you.”

“You’re not giving up work, Zen. You can’t.” You smiled sadly and rested a hand on his knee and this time, he set his hand protectively over yours. “I’ll be okay. Jaehee can help me, my mom can help me-”

“But MC! That kid needs a father figure in their life.” Your tears had stopped and you turned to Zen.

“Zen, stop. I know what you’re trying to do and you can’t. Your work is your entire life. It’s so incredibly important to you. You cannot let me hold you back from that.”

“You wouldn’t be holding me back I lo-” You cut Zen off by pressing your lips to his.

“I know, I do too. But you can’t give this up yet. Not when your career is just starting to take off.” Zen nodded, pressing his left hand to his lips.

“I can’t give this up yet.” Zen repeated back, almost like he was trying to convince himself more than anything  and you rested your head on his shoulder, him wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “We’ll get through this, I promise.”

“I hope,” you whispered back, burying yourself more into his side as Zen pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

-

The second time Zen got his heart broken by you was two years after he went on tour because his musical career kicked off. He left without saying goodbye and cut off communication with everyone from the RFA, ready for a fresh start. He had decided to not meet up with Saeran and Saeyoung for Christmas the first year, even though they had offered him a spot in their ‘orphan Christmas celebration’  and opted to work on his new role that he was going to be starting once this tour ended. For summer break, he went on a backpacking trip in Europe with the girl he was dating then. Her name was Ivy and she was sweet and pretty and liked the same things as he did but she was not you.

So sucking it up for the second winter break off his tour, Zen returned home and found himself on the doorstep of the Choi household before he even stopped to say hello to Yoosung, which he promised he’d do when he came home. He knocked on the door, three taps and before he could do a fourth, the door was ripped open and Zen was face to face with Saeyoung. “Uh, hey, Seven.”

He opened the door for Zen to walk inside and Zen nodded his head, thankful for the heat. “Uncle Saeyoung! Come look at what mommy got me!”

A young boy ran up to Saeyoung, wrapping his little arms around his bigger legs and Saeyoung picked up the boy, tapping him on the nose. “I’ll come look in a second, we have a guest over right now.”

“Saeyoung you’ll never believe…” You walked in the room, smiling at something you were holding in your hands and looked towards your friend, the smile dropping off your face when you saw Zen. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were back.”

Your stance made it very clear how you felt: you were mad. Your hips were cocked to one side and your arms were crossed across your chest. “I just got back off the tour, like, literally ten minutes ago.”

Zen awkwardly looked at Saeyoung, hoping for him to help. He Looked towards your son and shrugged. “Come on, Will, we should go find Uncle Saeran and you can tell him and I all about what mommy got you, okay?”

You and Zen both watched helplessly as Chelsea walked into the next room and Zen heard Henrik exclaim something in the next room. “Saeran? Saeyoung?”

You looked at Zen and he felt his face heat up under your gaze. “Yeah, turns out Seven had a twin brother who was the hacker that first introduced me to the RFA. After all that came out, he decided he wanted to stop changing identities and finally be able to live life as himself.”

“So, um, how are you?” Zen awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck.

“No, no. You don’t get to do that, Zen. Leave for two years without so much as a postcard and then you come into my home and try to make small talk with me?” You walked closer to him and jabbed a finger in the middle of his chest. “You offered to be my child’s father and then you leave without so much as a goodbye? What happened to getting through this together, Zen? Huh? Because as far as I can tell, it’s only been me, Saeyoung, and Saeran who’s been raising this child.”

Zen stood still, for once in his life, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have a joke to crack, he didn’t have a sincere apology to give you. His mind went blank, all he could think about was you, that night on his doorstep: so fragile, and he held you like he thought you were fine china. Like one wrong move and you would break. You weren’t that same girl anymore; something happened to you after he left and he wanted so badly to reach out and hold you close to him, and beg you to talk to him, let him help now. But you wouldn’t let him, so Zen kept still.

“Zen!” Jaehee calling his name brought Zen out of the staring contest you and he were seeming to have. “It’s so nice to see you! When did you get home?”

Jaejee embraced Zen and he hugged her back, trying to detangle himself from the situation he was in. “Um, actually just a few minutes ago. I stopped by to say hello to MC but I promised Yoosung I’d say hi as soon as I got back, so I should get going.”

“Nonsense, stay for dinner. Come and catch up!” Jaehee Was either ignoring the daggers in your stare was just oblivious but either way she wasn’t taking the hint. Zen was sure it was because she wanted information about the tour and to maybe get exclusive information to share with the fan club, which has now skyrocketed since his career took off.

“He said he had to get going.” Your stern look made Jaehee close her mouth and throw her hands up, silently walking out of the room. “I’ll show you to the door, Zen.”

“MC, please. Talk to me. What happened while I was away?” Zen put a hand over your hand that was on the door handle and you stopped for a second, closing your eyes and letting out a heavy sigh.

“Zen, remember all those times where you didn’t want to talk to me?” Zen nodded, his eyes searching to reach yours. “I respected that and I left you alone. Now, I need you to respect that I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Mommy? Who is that?” Zen heard your son ask you after Zen had stepped out the door. He saw Saeran and Saeyoung come into view right before the door closed and Zen felt his heart ache as he watched his friend with his long lost brother.

“He’s an old friend, Will. He doesn’t matter.” Zen heard you mutter before the door was slammed in his face, his heart falling on the cement in front of him.

-

The third time Zen really realized he was still madly in love with you was also the first time you told Zen that you were in love with him was three weeks after he showed up at your doorstep. He had already gone back on tour and wasn’t expecting any visitors to show up at his hotel room, let alone have it be you.

“Hey,” you shifted your weight from one foot to another. “Are you gonna let me come in?”

Zen wordlessly opened the door wider and you stepped in, following Zen to the musky smelling couch that all hotel rooms seemed to have and sat down next to him.

“I thought you made it pretty clear a few weeks ago, MC. You don’t want anything to do with me.” Zen was confused, not only about why you were in California in his hotel room, but why after all this time and separation did he still want to pull you into his arms and kiss you until you were breathless.

“That’s the thing, Zen. That’s not what I wanted. I was upset, and rightfully so. You left for two years without so much as a word. I missed you, there was so much I wanted to tell you. So much happened-”

“What happened with Jumin after I left? Yoosung told me you guys got back together.” Zen shifted so he could look at you, really look at you. And his heart ached. He hates the unknown of those two years; so much could have happened.

“That didn’t last long. He wasn’t a good parent to Will, even though he did try to be. Some people just aren’t meant to be parents and so we mutually decided that was the end of us, and I moved in with Saeran and Saeyoung.” Making eye contact with you for the first time in years, Zen felt his heart flutter like he was back in high school. “Aren’t you gonna ask me why I’m here?”

Laughing, Zen hesitantly put his arm around your shoulders and when you leaned into his touch, he smiled victoriously to himself. “I was getting there,”

“I came because I needed to tell you something,” you wouldn’t look at Zen but he could tell you were nervous, picking off nail polish on your fingers, like you always did. “Something I should have told you all those nights ago on your doorstep.”

“What is it, MC?” Zen’s heart felt like it was in his throat and he rubbed his hand up and down your shoulder encouragingly.

“I want my kid to grow up to be like you, I want you in his life, influencing him. Showing him how to be a gentleman and how to treat people kindly. I want you to show him that it’s okay to be vulnerable. I want him to grow up thinking that it’s okay to cry. I want you to be the father that he needs, not the father that he has.”

“MC, I really don’t think you mean-”

“I do mean it though.” You insisted. “I want him to grow up to be like the man I loved. The man I still do love.” You looked Zen intensely in the eyes and he looked back at you.

“What are you saying?” Zen wanted to believe what he was hearing was what he hoped was what you were actually saying, but there was a part of him that needed confirmation. The same part of him that felt like he was going to throw up from the nerves.

“I’m saying that I love you, Zen. And that I have loved you since that night that we practiced lines together. Maybe even before then, who knows. Yes, Jumin was my first love, that will never change. But you will forever be my las love. I can’t imagine loving anyone as intensely as I love you.”

Zen didn’t wait for you to continue saying anything else before pressing his lips to yours softly. You two had shared a kiss or two in the past but this one felt different. Both of your feelings were laying out on the table in front of you and the feelings were so fragile after being put out in the open.

“In case that didn’t speak for itself, I love you too, MC. So much more than you could ever imagine.” Zen was a man of many words, most of them coming out beautifully and poetically but right then and there, he couldn’t think of anything to say other than that. And you were okay with that, because his actions spoke more volumes than anything else ever could.

[prettywordsyouleft]

That’s It?

Prompt: #119 for anon – “I just really need to talk to you.”

Anonymous said:

May I request 119 with Im Changkyun??? Thank youuu

Pairing: Im Changkyun x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 1198

There were always sentences that would provoke certain emotions in a person. Some would spark joy or excitement, others contempt and annoyance.

But there was one that was universally dubbed as anxiety-inducing.

I need to talk to you.

Changkyun swallowed, the sentence hadn’t even been spoken out loud and still he felt the immediate surge of concern. Why did you need to talk to him? What had he forgotten about or done wrong to warrant such a sentence?

He stared at the simple message on his phone for several minutes, blindly jostled by his best friend Jooheon. “Dude, you look unwell, all good?”

“Ah, well, I don’t know,” Changkyun admitted, allowing Jooheon to read your message. “This doesn’t really bode well, right?”

“That’s from Y/N?” Jooheon asked and Changkyun nodded. Jooheon dismissed the apparent anxious expression on his friend’s face. “I saw her earlier in the staff room, she seemed completely fine.”

“To you, but maybe I’ve done something?” Changkyun wondered softly, letting out a heavy sigh. He started to brood, over-analysing every aspect of his recent interactions with you. He couldn’t think of anything that he had done to warrant your need to send him such a message and dropped his head into his arms with a groan.

Jooheon patted his shoulder gently. “You know, it could be something good.”

“There’s no exclamation mark,” Changkyun replied immediately, glancing up at Jooheon. “I wonder what it is that I’ve done wrong.”

“Only one way to find out, message her back.”

“Right now? I uh, I need to get back to work. These emails aren’t going to send themselves.”

Jooheon shrugged. “The sooner you rip off the band-aid, the quicker whatever it is will be over and done with.”

Of course, Changkyun opted to do all his remaining work before approaching your message. When he logged off his computer, he looked to his phone, noticing the flashing notification light. Heaving in a deep breath, he unlocked the device and saw another message from you.

I just really need to talk to you.

Guilt washed over him for making you wait so long as he cowardly protected himself from whatever you had to say. Hitting the call button, he balanced the phone on his shoulder as he collected his belongings and managed to pull on his coat. You answered after the fourth ring. “Finally!”

“Sorry, I was caught up in work, is everything okay?”

“No, you made me wait all day,” you grumbled and Changkyun sighed as he walked towards the elevator.

“Well I’m free now, can you tell me over the phone or-”

“In person, this is kind of important,” you intervened breathlessly. “I’m waiting for you by your car.”

“Oh, right.” Stepping into the elevator, he pressed the ground level button and swallowed awkwardly. “I’ll be there shortly.”

It felt like the longest ride ever and yet when Changkyun reached the bottom, he almost pressed the highest floor button to ride away from his concerns. He knew he had dragged this out far too long now. Jooheon had been right. His mood wouldn’t have stumbled this low had he done something about this hours ago.

When he spotted you, Changkyun tried to gauge your expression. You didn’t smile, and that made his stomach knot up further. He soon reached your side, lifting an awkward hand in greeting. “Hey.”

“Hey, can we talk in your car?” you asked quickly and numbly Changkyun nodded, unlocking the doors and went over to the driver’s side. Once in the car, he didn’t look directly at you, rather, angling himself so he could see you enough without giving off that he was anxious.

It was then that he realised you were fiddling with your ring on your finger and his brows knitted together. “Is it something bad?”

“What?” Dazed, you shook your head. “No, it’s nothing bad.”

“Really?”

“It’s serious though,” you admitted, looking in every part of the car except in his direction. “I uh, have something I need to tell you.”

Changkyun took a shaky breath, trying to guess the words that would come from your mouth. When he landed on the idea of you potentially leaving him, it made him lurch forward, taking your hand in his and shaking his head. “You’re not- we’re not changing how we are right?”

“Well, it might change after I say this,” you said, blinking several times. “Changkyun, I-”

“But I don’t want us to change,” he breathed, shaking his head again. “I like how we are. I know we’ve only been together for nine months now but I don’t want to break up and-”

“What? Break up? Where did you get that from?”

Desperation had taken over and his words started falling out in quick succession. “Well, you said you needed to talk and that only means one thing which is never good and so that’s why I avoided having this happen earlier in the day because I don’t want things to be bad between us, Y/N. I want us to-”

“Changkyun, I love you,” you confessed and he sucked in so much air that he began to hiccup. Watching him for a moment, your lips slowly spread into a smile. “Are you hiccupping because I love you?”

“Wait a min—ute,” he managed, trying to rid himself of the problem he was facing. And then he shot you another look. “Did you just sa—y you lo—ve me?!”

“Oh my goodness, you sound so cute right now!” you giggled, cupping his face within your hands. “I love you. That’s what I want to tell you. I realised this morning how much I needed to tell you. And it drove me mad waiting all day until now to do so.”

“You love me—ee?!”

“Even when you sound so ridiculous. Do you need some water? I think I have a bottle in my bag.”

After gulping down the drink, Changkyun waited for a few seconds to see if he was cured. He then groaned. “I was so anxious all afternoon thinking it was something bad.”

“Why would I have anything bad to say? You only ever make me smile!”

“You sent I really need to talk to you. What else was I meant to think?”

You grinned. “So what are you thinking now?”

“What do you mean?” he asked and you gave him a pointed look. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it?!”

“No, I love you too.”

“You said that with barely any effort,” you grumbled, your disappointment evident.

Changkyun smiled, running his hand through your hair. “Because it’s not the first time I’ve said it to you.”

“It is too!”

Changkyun shook his head. “I breathed it into your ear last week.”

“When?!” You were aghast and Changkyun grew sheepish.

“Uh, you were asleep beside me but still-”

“I obviously didn’t hear you then!”

“Can you hear me now?” Changkyun asked and you softened, watching him intently. “I love you too, Y/N. Even if you make me panic over your sentences.”

“You’re not going to let this go, now are you?” you whined and Changkyun chuckled, pulling you into his embrace.

“No, but the good thing is, I’m not letting you go either.”

_________________

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[ofpensandpapersblog]

FROM CALM TO CHAOS: A year into the COVID-19 pandemic

It was January 30, 2020. Everyone was beginning to execute their game plan for their goals set for the year. And while everyone was getting busy, life had its way to changing its course – getting everyone caught off guard because of the ‘unprecedented’ arrival of the novel coronavirus (COVID-19).

At first, majority dismissed the matter when a suspected COVID-19 case was reported, and everything seemed to have died down a month later with no additional cases reported.

Calm.

Beginning March 2020, the very first local transmission of COVID-19 had been reported and from then on, the confirmed positive cases continued to rise day-by-day. This has prompted the Government to devise a plan in a bid to stop the spread of the disease and placed Luzon into lockdown. It was March 15, 2020.

Nobody knew what to do after that day. Everyone was panicking; there’s confusion and fear everywhere.

Visayas and Mindanao soon reported local transmissions and followed suit, declaring lockdowns to contain the outbreak. Soon, the whole of the country was placed into a state of calamity.

Although people were able to cope with the ‘new normal’ after a while, several serious problems came to light – in the Government, in the community, in oneself.

Chaos.

For the whole of 2020, everyone hoped for the better like I did.

Was the COVID-19 contained? No. But everyone made the most out of the situation.

Everyone tried to move on with life and optimistically looked forward to a different year ahead.

Calm.

Beginning 2021, the Government have opted to gradually relax restrictions, reopen the economy, and allow some of the things people dreaded for.

At the office, we were almost back to the ‘normal’ daily operations. Instead of working at home, majority of us in our unit were already reporting on site four (even five) times a day.

In the Church, we have reopened physical service at 50% capacity (in adherence to the IATF guidelines). Physical meetups and fellowships were also being done.

Yet when everyone looked to end the year-long agony brought about by the pandemic in 2021, all hell broke loose once again.

---

Since the start of the year, we were already wrapping our heads in one of the agency’s project for its 25th anniversary – a coffee table book.

Aside from the internal documents that needed to be prepared, we also coordinated with different companies and groups that will be featured in the said project; we sent emails, prepared scheduled visits and trips, and many more. It is stressful to the core – in work and in principle.

We started the company visits and trips beginning March 2021 but had to halt it for a week due to poor planning and coordination of the third-party supplier. We had to step in to ensure proper communication with the stakeholders regarding the feature.

It was March 15, 2021. During this time, there were already reports of increasing COVID-19 cases but there was no clear plan to be done by the Government yet again. It seems like a repeat of last year...

The same day, a photoshoot for a certain group of people was conducted at the office in relation to the coffee table book project. This was the nth time that we breached the guidelines on mass gathering – yes, I had to state that out – although, there were fewer people that time compared to the earlier scheduled shoot. We are to resume the company visits starting the next day.

March 16. There were already rumors of positive COVID-19 cases at the office, but no one confirmed nor denied the information, so we went on our day as usual.

March 17. The rumors were eventually confirmed – two staff from another floor tested positive of COVID; however, employees were suspecting that there’s more. In the afternoon, the management has decided to suspend operations for the rest of the week to conduct disinfection of premises. At the same time, the reported COVID positive cases around the country was once again ballooning rapidly.

Despite tbe suspension, we continued our scheduled company visits for the project, but the scheduled flights for the next week have eventually been postponed due to the worsening situation.

March 20. There have been additional confirmed cases among the agency’s employees. We were getting quite concerned on this as we’ve heard that we might be primary contacts – AND WE WERE IN FACT EXPOSED.

We were informed the next day that three staff from our unit, including me, turned out to be primary contacts while the rest of the group were our secondary contacts. As such, we were ordered to immediately have our swab tests done and go on quarantine.

In the back of my mind, I was taken aback as just in a matter of days, things went out of hand.

Due to the escalation of events, the agency had been placed on ‘lockdown’ and mass testing of employees was ordered. This time, the Government has announced that the Greater Manila will be placed under ECQ again.

Chaos.

Of course for the safety of everyone, we immediately complied to the instructions.

I got tested on March 22 and, thankfully, the results went back ‘negative’ the next day. Or so I thought…

March 24. I woke up feeling sick – my back aches, my head hurts so bad, I was coughing, and I have high fever. I immediately told my mom what I was feeling. I also informed my supervisor and three of my closest colleagues about what’s happening.

For the rest of the day, I monitored if my temperature would go down and all that’s aching in me would go away. It didn’t.

Since I wasn’t getting better, I reported to our company nurse what’s happening. I was told to undergo some laboratory tests and take a swab test again.

In my mind, I was already preparing for the worse. I prayed to God, “Lord, if this is my thorn of flesh, I am willing to accept, but please help me see the bigger picture.”

Praise God, all laboratory tests were clear. But I tested positive for COVID-19.

It was morning of March 27 that I confirmed the diagnosis, 8 days since I was exposed. It broke my heart, but I trust that the Lord will be with me in this journey. I prayed to God for understanding and healing. I also prayed that my parents and my brother’s girlfriend, and those people around me, will be spared from this. “As much as possible, Lord, ako na lang.”

For the next few days, my condition worsened: my fever wasn’t going down despite the round-the-clock paracetamol, I developed cough and colds, I lost my sense of taste and smell and my appetite, but I had to force myself to eat because I need to take antibiotics and other medicine. I also experienced uncomfortable breathing.

Due to my condition, I was already thinking of scenarios that didn't even happened yet – what if I needed to go to the hospital? All hospitals near me are at full capacity. What would I do? What will happen now?

During those times, I wanted the comfort of my parents, but they can’t even go near me. Literally so close, yet so far. Never have I ever felt so alone in my life… but I thank God for never leaving my side. Even when I can’t see Him, I was assured that He was with me all the way.

That very moment that I wanted to give up, kaleidoscope of memories flashed in my head, and I remembered my mom and dad, and Kuya, and his girlfriend, my friends, the people I cherished the most… And I heard a gentle whisper that said, “Hold on.”

In those moments, I uttered the same prayer that Jesus said to the Father in Luke 22:42, “Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”

Thankfully, I started to get better at the start of the Holy Week 2021. Majority of my symptoms were already gone by the end of the week. It’s funny, but I felt like I was resurrected alongside the remembrance of that momentous time when Christ took on the cross the weight of our sins, defeated death, and resurrected on the third day to sit at the right hand of God.

It was the hardest and scariest week of my life. It was as if I would see the light any time. But it was also the same time that I met God again.

For the longest time, I had set aside the Lord. But the moment I was alone and I had no one to turn to, He was there. He never left… He never will.

I really appreciate those people who constantly checked on me and prayed with me during those times. Thank you, Lord, for using them to remind me that You are with me.

I am continuously getting better twenty days since I got the virus. But praise God because I do not have any symptoms anymore and I am already back to doing what I usually do while on continuous recovery.

My heart goes to those who lost their fight against this virus. I pray for God’s comfort, guidance, peace, and protection be upon their families. I also pray for healing and provision to those suffering from COVID and its drastic effects.

---

Was COVID contained now? Still no. The cases are still at record-breaking peaks. Frontliners are still suffering. Hospitals are still full. People are still frustrated and mad at the Government for their lack of concrete plan.

COVID IS REAL. And this situation must be taken seriously. It's not anymore a matter of 'what if I get COVID' but more of 'when will I get COVID.' Sad, but it's true.

But beyond the current situation, GOD IS ALSO REAL. He knows everything that is happening, and He accounts every one of them – justly and fairly.

1 Peter 3:12 says:

"For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their prayer, but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.'"

Let us continue to pray for the better; He listens. He is closer than we know. #

[rosierossette]

Tempting -

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I didn’t post earlier! I got caught up at work, and I meant to prepare this post last night and just schedule it, but I got busy and forgot. But without further ado, my fic! 

Work Summary: Working as a Temp for Tony Stark you only expected your life to revolve around sending emails and important papers for Tony Stark. However, all that changed when Loki came to live with the Avengers. Two years later, they still don’t trust Loki and need someone to constantly watch over him and keep him from causing Mischief. Given the magical ability to control Loki with your words, your journey begins as you try to carefully tread the line between keeping Loki safe and keeping others from harm. But trying to control Loki has more problems than you’re ready for, and soon you discover why he’s the God of Mischief, and how much he’s willing to sacrifice for his freedom.

Warnings: None for this chapter. (I think? I’m not sure what needs tagging and what doesn’t. RIP). 

3001 words (Pain in the ass my dudes.)

Chapter 2

It had been a long exhausting day in the Avengers tower. Everyone was busy preparing for another mission, for another unknown species to attack, just something to go wrong in general. Fortunately enough, you were just a temp so you didn’t have to get all sweaty like everyone else was. You just spent your time writing up documents, emails and anything Stark needed you for. 

You were pretty much an errand girl for the Avengers, constantly leaving and entering the tower when they needed something. 

The only person however you were not required to follow was Loki. In fact, according to Stark, Loki had to follow your orders. Which was odd, considering the thousand-year-plus age difference between you, but you didn’t complain. It was weird at first having to order Loki around, but then you actually met him and realized you were perfectly fine with it. 

The first time you met him he called you a ‘simpering mortal fool’ and you immediately hated his guts. You had tried to be nice, in fact, you tried very hard. Then he insulted the way you spoke, and you’d had enough. 

Luckily for you, Odin, with much convincing from Thor, cast a spell on Loki, he would have to obey your every order. It so happened that your first order was for him to shut up and get over himself. Apparently, get over yourself in magic terms meant for him to do a very entertaining flip. You snorted, very loudly, and he growled. Although his mouth was closed and he couldn’t open it even if he had wanted to. 

You tried very hard to watch your words around him after that. There was no need to make the situation worse than it already was. Hard as that may be. 

You didn’t need him to hate you or the situation any more than he already did. But you couldn’t help the absolute relish you felt over the fact that a simpering mortal had control over a Norse God, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was not at all the way you thought your time at the Avengers tower was going to go, but who were you to complain about it? 

Unfortunately for you, your lack of complaining granted you more opportunities to hang around the emotional God. In the form of you now being Loki’s babysitter while the Avengers all went out on any mission that came up. Apparently even after two years of living with him, they still had a difficult time believing he wouldn’t try to kill them once the opportunity was presented. So of course, the Avengers usually opted to leave him home, something about him being untrustworthy. 

Loki, untrustworthy? I don’t see it. You rolled your eyes.

He didn’t exactly make it easy on himself, did he? All the stunts he pulled on the daily to prank anyone and everyone didn’t exactly help his case. This morning he had decided that locking Banner in his room until he went Hulk and smashed the door down was a good use of his time. While you did see the humor in it (Stark’s face when he saw the destruction was absolutely priceless), you also understood where the Avengers were coming from. 

You immediately commanded Loki to clean up his mess, and he glared daggers at you the entire time he did so. It wasn’t your fault that he kept causing useless destruction. It also wasn’t your fault that because of said incident, the Avengers had once again elected to leave Loki in the tower, with you as a not-so-willing babysitter. 

The sound of Loki’s coughing reminded you of your babysitting duties. Something you were not looking forward to. Loki made it very clear that he hated it as well. You imagined Loki as a baby drinking a sippy cup and you giggled. You’d rather babysit baby Loki than baby Loki. At least baby Loki would whine less. 

“Think you’re on babysitting duty one more time…” Loki’s voice trailed off as he read his book. You laughed softly. Luckily it was a pretty easy babysitting job. Even if the child in question was a bit too sarcastic and mischevious for his own good. He turned his head back towards you with a look that clearly said, ‘What did I just say?” You rolled your eyes. “Sorry,” and kept working on the computer. 

A few minutes later and the sound of Loki rising from his couch reminded you of your duties. “Where are you going?” You asked as you continued typing away. You hadn’t even looked up, the email was too important for you to stop working on. 

“Asgard.” His voice was full of boredom. 

You sighed in annoyance. “Where are you going?”

He finally answered, “I’m going to my hovel, my prison, my hell,” he sighed dramatically, brushing a hand over his face. “I’m going to my room, mother.” 

“I’m not your mother, just your babysitter-” You picked up your computer and followed him to his room, “-which means I have the absolute pleasure of going where you go, my child.” 

“I am not a child,” he growled at you as you entered his room. “And you are not invited in!” He turned to shove you out of the room, but you ducked just in time. He growled angrily, light surrounding his hands. 

Your heart thumped in fear, then it rapidly turned to anger. You didn’t want to be here any more than he did. It wasn’t your fault he hadn’t learned to control himself and his emotions. You had things you’d rather be doing as well, and watching him was not on your list. Why he felt the need to blame you for the Avengers idea was beyond you. What were you supposed to do? Not do what the Avengers asked of you? You not only needed this job, but you loved this job. You weren’t crazy enough to lose it. And it was the Avengers. They could kick your ass if they really wanted to. 

“Loki.” No response. Why he felt like dragging this out was beyond you. 

“Loki.” Still nothing. You were seething at this point.  

“Loki!” You growled at him loudly, causing him to look at you in surprise. 

“What?” He asked softly, his voice barely hiding his anger. He had forgotten about that commanding spell you had, and it didn’t make him any happier. 

You tossed the laptop onto the bed before putting your hands up in annoyance. “Loki, calm down and listen to me.” You walked backward until you were sitting on his bed, facing him. “I don’t want to do this as much as you don't want me to do it,” you growled lightly. “But unfortunately we’re both expected to follow the rules, and one of the rules is I can’t leave you alone!” 

“I am a King! I do not need a babysitter!” He hissed. He plopped down next to you on the bed, both of you seething. 

It took a few minutes before the both of you calmed down enough to think straight. This situation was annoying, and it was unfair for the Avengers to do this to the both of you, but what could you do? 

At least you both felt the same way about this. That helped make things easier, or at least you hoped so. You doubted you’d both come to some kind of agreement, but it made doing this less difficult. “I’m sorry Loki,” Loki arched his eyebrows in surprise. “I’m kind of a control freak, which doesn’t make any of this easier, for either of us.” You sent a small smile his way. 

“And I am the God of Mischief-” he turned to you, smirking, “-so I think that makes us even.” 

Picking up your laptop, you began leaving the room. “Well, I’ll just be working in the kitchen if you get bored.” Loki nodded, and you set up your things back on the dining room table. 

Less than an hour later, Loki strolled into the room carrying one of his many books. He nodded towards you in acknowledgment, and then promptly sat down on the sofa in the connecting living room. 

You continued working on your assignments from Stark, the keys clacking as you tapped them quickly. Satisfied that Loki wasn’t in as bad of a mood, you finished typing out your long paper about the properties of some of the Chitauri weapons that had been found recently. Stark was worried about the chance of the slime-like powers getting to humans and negatively affecting them, but so far no reports of people going crazy had been made. But ever diligent, Stark and Banner set out to make different experiments on the slime, that way we were prepared if any difficulties did arise. 

You could feel your back beginning to ache from sitting too long, and got up to make you some tea.  You smoothed out your skirt while looking for the teas, something you did without really thinking about it. Finally finding them, you selected a particular favorite herbal tea of yours. You found herbal teas to be your favorite and whipped out your favorite apple cinnamon. While you waited for your tea to steep, you glanced over at Loki. He hadn’t moved from his position since he sat down. 

“Loki?” You hesitantly called out as you walked over. He made a noise of acknowledgment but did no more. “Would you like me to make you some tea? I’m already making me some, so I figured while I was here-” 

“No, thank you.” He went back to his reading. If you hadn’t seen his mouth move, you would have assumed he hadn’t spoken at all. 

You shrugged but went to go grab your tea and set it down beside your computer at the table. At least I can say that I tried you grumbled to yourself. 

------

Night had fallen when you finally stood, finished with all your work. The Avengers still hadn’t returned, so you were still on Loki duty. You looked over at Loki and found him still reading, not an ounce of weariness lined his face. 

Your stomach grumbled a good reminder that you had neglected yourself all day. You had gotten a lot done today, considering the babysitting you got to do. You stretched, your back popping, and you sighed in contentment.  

Much better. You had sat far longer than you meant to.  

You rummaged through the fridge, finding something you could possibly make for dinner. You thought about asking Loki if he was hungry, but he would probably lie only to come back to make food when you fell asleep. 

Your mind came across one recipe in particular that you could make, and upon seeing all the ingredients you needed, rounded everything up to make it. You weren’t sure it would be up to Loki’s taste, but you figured he wasn’t going to actually eat whatever you made anyway. So why struggle to make something to his standards, when you could eat something you actually enjoy? 

So you went to work. You cooked the pasta, you make the delicious sauce, and you cooked the chicken. The kitchen was starting to get a bit hot with all the different burners, so you took off the suit jacket you wore all day, and put your hair up into a loose pony. The light pink shirt you wore underneath the jacket had short sleeves, and you were thankful for the decision earlier in the day. 

Finally, when all the ingredients were cooked, you found pan to mix the pasta, sauce, and chicken in, then promptly covered the mixture with delicious white cheese and threw the entire thing in the oven to cook even more. While the oven worked its magic, you washed the pans and counters, leaving no evidence as to your work other than the smell that filled the room. 

When you had finished your cleaning you took the food out of the oven; the smell of the Chicken Alfredo made you smile happily. Mama would be proud of my work. You were even happier at the thought. 

You fixed a plate for Loki and brought it over to him, setting it on the coffee table next to him. “I made some chicken alfredo if you’re hungry.” You gestured towards the plate. “I only gave you a little bit, I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be.” You stood up and headed towards the kitchen to make yourself a plate.

You took a bite and moaned softly. Damn, I’m good! You tried your hardest to not eat too fast, but you were absolutely starving and it was one of your favorites. When you finished what was on your plate and decided to get more, you looked to Loki and noticed his plate completely empty. 

“There’s more in the kitchen if you want some.” 

Loki looked up from his book lazily. “No, thank you. I try not to poison myself willingly.” He gestured towards his plate, “This thing you call a meal wasn’t even tempting enough to consider poisoning me.” And just like that, he was back in his book. 

Ouch. At least he’s honest? You tried to look at the bright side, but that stung a little bit. Yes, you weren’t exactly the royal Asgardian chef he was used to, but you thought you did alright. You followed your mom’s recipe, and even though it didn’t exactly taste like hers, it was close. 

You did do a good job, but that didn’t make you feel better. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat. Cooking was the one thing you were proud of and hearing someone say so nonchalantly that they hated your cooking hurt. You felt tears prick and the corners of your eyes and shook your head. You were not about to cry about it. Loki was a jerk, and you were well aware of that fact. 

So you walked away, grabbed your empty plate and headed towards the food for more. But as you stared at the pan, you were no longer hungry. You put the food away, washed the remaining dishes, including Loki’s, and started towards a spare bedroom in the tower. Since the Avengers had yet to return, you were stuck babysitting Loki overnight. 

Before you walked out of the room to start your search, you stood in front of Loki and cleared your throat. When he finally decided you were worth looking at, you spoke. “I’m going to bed. I’ve had a long day, and I have an even longer day ahead of me.” 

“If you’re after a good night, you’ve come to the wrong place.” Loki started to read his book again. 

“I’m not-” You were trying very hard not to be offended. “-I’m not after a good night. At least not from someone like you.” Loki looked up at you, annoyed over the fact that you hadn’t left him alone yet. “You’re to go to your room immediately, stay there all night, and not perform any kind of bullshit until I come to get you in the morning.” You reached your limit. You were annoyed. “Understood?” 

“Understood.” Loki snapped?. He quickly stood up, gathered his things and made his way towards his room. Slamming his door behind him was his way of defying your magical orders. 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding and made your way to a spare room. When you had finally found one, you plopped down on the bed, just taking in the scenery. You realized you had no pajamas to wear and no clothes to change into tomorrow and cursed softly. You’d have to make a trip for new clothes. You debated going tonight, and just getting it over with, but you were exhausted. Not so much physically as you were mentally and emotionally. 

Watching Loki really put a lot out of you, and you really hadn’t even done that much. 

Deciding that you didn’t care, you opted to sleep in your bra and panties. Then when you had to go get clothes in the morning, at least you wouldn’t look completely ragged. You set your clothes on a chair, flattening them out in the hopes of avoiding wrinkles. Your hands rubbed over your clothes absentmindedly. Your thoughts lingered on the events on the day and having to deal with Loki and his many moods. 

You thought about using your commands on him and felt bad, but then remembered his penchant for trouble and the way he mocked your cooking and you lost your sympathy for him. He didn’t have to be a jerk about everything, and it wasn’t your fault if he chose to be so. Nodding your head in agreement with yourself, you laid down on the bed. 

You tried your absolute hardest to sleep, but it evaded you. You were uncomfortable. New bed, just you and Loki, sleeping at the place you work. There were many reasons for your discomfort. 

It’s just for a couple more nights. You thought to yourself. When the Avengers get back, I’ll get a nice paycheck from Tony, and I can go home and relax. You thought to yourself all the different things you’d do with that extra money but nothing came to you. You huffed at yourself in annoyance. Surely there was something you’d want? 

Clothes. I’ll buy more work clothes. Perfect! You really only had two dress suits to choose from at the moment, it would be nice to have more options. 

Besides, I’m around so many attractive men, it’d be nice to look a little more put together. You smiled softly. It was true, you did work with quite a few sexy hunks, why not dress to impress, right? 

You were starting to doze off thinking of all the men you worked with. When you finally did fall asleep, it was to the image of Loki blissfully reading while you worked. 

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Daydreaming About Dandelions

Word Count: 3,343

Pairing: Hoseok and Reader

Genre/Rating: Daycare AU - Fluff - PG13

A/N: Also, this was heavily influenced by D.O’s song, That’s Okay and is the song being played at the end.

Warning: Fluff that is the level of tooth rotting and makes you want to squeal into a pillow.

Requested

Master List

Drabble Challenge Prompt #40: “The kids, they ambushed me.”

©thatmultifandomhoe 2019. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

Working at a daycare meant that your days were never less than interesting. Specifically, with the little kids. The daycare you worked at had a range of kids from a year old all the way up to twelve, but you primarily worked to help care for the kids ranging from ages five to eight.

Most of your nights were spent coming up with activities that the children would enjoy, preferably for long periods of time until their guardians picked them up, but that wasn’t always the case. Over the years, you learned that if paint and food were involved, it was a guaranteed good time.

You smiled and waved as the last child was picked up, promising to see her again tomorrow after she got out of school. When the door was shut, you groaned, stretching your arms over your head for some relief. As much as you loved your job, you also loved the end of the day when it was quiet, allowing you to relax, play your favorite music, and clean the classroom you were provided with for the next day.

Walking over to your desk, you perched yourself on the edge as you scrolled through your phone, swiping away notifications that didn’t interest you and seeing what you missed in the world.

“Excuse me, Miss?”

You quickly looked up to see a man standing at your door, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion but his brown eyes light with happiness.

“Hi,” you greeted, making your way over to him. Maybe he was a parent? He looked about your age, so maybe he was an older sibling and was lost. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Hoseok, the new hire. Mrs. Cora said that we’d be working together until I was able to get my own classroom.”

You blinked in confusion; head slightly tilted to the side as he explained. Mentally, you tried to rack your brain for any mention of a new hire, or even that you’d be sharing your kids and classroom with him, but nothing came to mind.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smile. “She said that an email had been sent this morning,” he added, hoping that it would be of some help.

“Um, let me check.” You quickly said, providing him with your name as embarrassment flooded you, quickly pulling up the emails on your phone. “I’m so sorry, with the kids it’s easy to forget things unless I write them down.”

He chuckled, but nodded in understanding. As you searched, he took the chance to look around the classroom you had. There were two rectangle tables in the room with small chairs, multiple bookcases that were painted soft yellows, greens and blues were against the walls with not only books, but serving as storage areas with wicker baskets as containers for toys and crafts that were at the moment, not so neatly organized. Not that he judged, seeing how he had passed by a little girl and her mother who had come from your classroom, he figured your day had only recently ended.

Near to the door were locker style cubbies, kids’ names were carefully written out with doodles on different colored laminated construction paper were stuck on each individual locker. From that he gathered you had a total of ten kids under your care and supervision.

“Ah ha,” you softly spoke, capturing his attention as you tapped the screen of your phone. “Mrs. Cora was right, there was an email sent out.”

It had been sent during the afternoon and remained unopened, which was why you didn’t remember it. Earlier you had taken the kids out to the playground and showed them how paint with chalk, so your emails had gone unread.

Briefly scanning it, you gathered that Hoseok would be working with you until the fall enrollment, that way he would not only have his own classroom, but because parents would be able to have the choice of meeting with and possibly choosing him to watch over the children.

“It says that you’d be working with the older kids?” You asked, exiting out of the app.

He nodded, running a hand through his black hair revealing his forehead. “Yeah, I used to teach dance and through that, had an easy time connecting with that age group.”

You smiled, leading him further into your classroom. “Ah, well you’re going to have an interesting time. Most of my kids are five through seven. I have one eight-year-old this year, so she’s a little more independent than the others, but it can still get wild in here.” Grabbing a basket with label glue sticks neatly written on it, you began to pick up the classroom. “There’s not much to do right now besides cleaning up, so you can head out if you want to.”

But Hoseok shook his head, joining in as he gathered up the scrap paper from this morning. “Two makes cleaning go by faster,” he joked.

You raised an eyebrow at him, but shrugged. If he wanted to stay and clean, then fine by that. “Alright. The baskets are on the bookcases. Just put everything back in their places and then we can wash down the tables.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

For the next hour, it was comfortable as the two of you worked on cleaning up the classroom, sharing small talk in an attempt to get to know each other. On your desk sat you phone, softly playing music to keep the atmosphere from being awkward when the conversation stopped.

It had been a while since you last shared your classroom with another adult, and while you enjoyed the independence, it was nice to know that there was someone else to pass the time with. You loved your kids, truly you did, but there was something about being able to have a conversation with another adult that did wonders to your sanity.

“Alright,” you finally spoke. The room was cleaned and organized with nothing out of place, just the way you liked it. “I really appreciate the help Hoseok.”

“It’s no problem. We’re going to be working together from now on, it only makes sense to stay and help.”

You nodded in agreement, taking a moment to pull your hair up. His attitude had been upbeat and you found yourself relaxing around him. Walking to your desk, you crouched down to open the bottom drawer, taking out the bucket of smooth rocks that you had gone searching for last weekend. They fit comfortable in your palm, plenty big enough for the kids.

Setting the bucket on the middle of the table, you chewed your bottom lip as you thought, trying to decide on how you wanted to set this up. There was way more rocks then there were kids, so they could paint several if they wanted to do so.

Hoseok, who had been drying his hands with paper towel, raised an eyebrow at the bucket. “What are you gonna have them do with the rocks?” Stepping closer, he reached down and plucked on from the pile. It was smooth and grey, a solid weight in his palm that reminded him of the rocks he used to skip at the river when he was younger.

“Paint them.” You answered, getting out the mason jars you used to hold your paint brushes. “My kids are more on the quiet and artsy side, so I figured it’ll be fun for them to do.”

He watched as you moved around the classroom with ease, the skirt you were wearing flowing softly as it skimmed your ankles. It wasn’t for the first time since he entered your classroom that he noticed you kept calling them, your kids. With the other staff, they either said, the kids, students or their names, but you affectionately called them yours.

“How much did the stores sock you for them?” He asked, joining your side.

You handed him the paper plates and giant roll of paper towel as you held onto the basket of bottled paints. “Nothing. There’s a river near my house, so I went there and picked out a bunch.”

Hoseok hummed in surprise, placing a plate in front of every chair and setting the paper towel down at the end. When he glanced up, his eyes widened for a moment. The blinds on the windows were up, allowing the sunlight to enter and warm up the room. But as the sun began to set, the light softened and filtered around you, making you appear as if weren’t from this world.

“Well, that’s it for now,” you murmured, stepping back and out of the light to look around. “I can fill up the water jars for them in the morning. Besides that, we are free to go.” Turning to Hoseok, you smiled at him as you headed back towards your desk, gathering up your purse and shutting down the computer as well.

“Guess I’ll see you in the morning,” he stammered, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t sure what he saw – it had to be a coincidence that the sun happened to highlight your figure like that – because it would not be in good taste for him to fall for you on his first day on the job.

He didn’t stick around much longer, and you waved as he walked out of the classroom. When you were sure that he was gone, you shook your head, softly chuckling as you finished packing up your own belongings. He seemed like a good fit, and there was a youthful vibe that radiated from him. Not because he most likely was your age, but in a way that he knew how to have fun and hadn’t let adulthood ruin his dreams.

As you turned off the lights, you had a pretty good feeling that there wasn’t going to be a single dull moment tomorrow.

“Good afternoon Lori,” you greeted, leaning over to hug the small girl as she entered the classroom.

“Afternoon Miss,” she shyly spoke, her arms tightening around your leg before going back to her mother.

You heart cooed at her. Even though she had been coming to you for the last year, she was still a sweet shy little girl. There was already a handful of kids sitting at the table with Hoseok, who had opted for sitting cross legged on the floor at the corner of the table and was painting his own rock.

He graciously declined your offer of a chair – you didn’t realize that he was much taller than you until this morning – and sat with the kids. Every time a small hand tapped on his arm or called out his name, he stopped what he was doing to give the child his undivided attention, oohing and awing whenever they showed him their masterpieces, even if they had showed him five times already.

“Lori, would you like to meet Mr. Hoseok? He’s going to be staying with us until the fall.” You asked, crouching down to her height after she hung up her belongings in her cubbie, still holding onto her mother’s hand. She was only six, but it still took some effort to get her to let go.

Her mother, dressed in red scrubs had to get leaving, so you held your own hand out for Lori to take, smiling when she slowly switched hands with yours and nodded. With a grateful smile, her mom smiled at you and waved bye to her daughter, slipping back out the classroom as you led Lori over to Hoseok.

Having been keeping one ear to the kids and the other to you, Hoseok set his paintbrush down as you came over with the little girl. He cooed as she tried to hide behind your leg, but with your gentle touch you were able to coax her out.

“Hi there,” Hoseok greeted, finger waving so as to not scare her. “I’m Mr. Hoseok. What’s your name hun?”

She glanced around the table before focusing back on him. “Lori.”

His own smile widened, and it was then that you noticed that his lips naturally curled into the shape of a heart. “Well Miss. Lori, it’s very nice to meet you. Would you like to paint a rock?”

With a little more reassurance coming from you, Lori was quickly under the same spell as the other kids, listening to his every word as he explained what they were doing and pointing to the colors the she wanted to use.

You watched for a few moments until there was a tug on your arm, thinking to yourself how much of a natural he was with them, and quickly withdrew from the daydream as you focused on Christopher as he asked for help. It was then that Hoseok looked at you, his heart racing a little faster as he watched you interact with the kids.

It wasn’t a strange feeling, he knew what was happening, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to act on it. You were his coworker and if anything were to happen, he’d hate to lose someone like you. In this world, you were the dandelion determined to grow in a cracked sidewalk.

By the time you glanced in his direction, Hoseok was already helping Lori and Jessi, the eight-year-old that was on the other side of him, unaware of the soft smile you were wearing.

Hearing a knock on the classroom door, you stood up from where you were crouched over by Johnny and opened the door, smiling when you saw multiple parents waiting outside. “Hey guys, come on in and I’ll get the kids ready.”

One by one they came in, and like all curious kids, they couldn’t help but look up to see who had entered the room. Several excited mom’s, dad’s, and even a grandma, had them up out of their seats as they hurried to hug their loved ones.

It was after the happy greeting that you gathered their attention once more. “Before you guys go, just remember that your projects won’t be ready to go home tonight. They’re still wet so they’re gonna stay here and finish drying, but you can bring them home tomorrow. Why don’t you guys go show them what you made.”

Excitement filled the room as the group led the adults over to the counter by the window where their rocks were drying, their names written out in their own handwriting on the paper plates they had used.

Like you and Hoseok had been doing all afternoon, the adults all oohed over the child’s hard work while you waited by the door. You had made it a custom to give every one of your kids a hug goodbye as well as the promise to see them tomorrow.

What you hadn’t expected however, was for the small group of them to rush to Hoseok first, who had been taking the moment to stand and stretch his legs, surprising him when several hands wound their way around his limbs.

You stifled your laughter by covering your mouth, finding his shocked face adorable. He quickly recovered and hugged each child one by one, and after they received their hug they hurried over to where you were waiting for them.

“See you tomorrow Mr. Hoseok,” you heard Lori call out as she made her way over to the door, her hand in her grandmother’s this time.

“See you tomorrow Lori,” Hoseok promised.

His eyes were lit up with a happiness that couldn’t be contained as it slipped through with his giggles and smiles. It was like the children were feeding off the emotion that he radiated, unable to contain themselves as they spoke fast and giggled even faster.

When the last child had hugged the two of you and left with their guardian, both you and Hoseok sighed in relief, taking the moment to crash on to the floor with your backs against the cubbies.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, letting your limbs relax before you needed to get back up and clean the classroom. Tomorrow was Friday which meant they were going to be extra hyper for the start of the weekend. You were too in a way, except your weekend was going to be spent catching up on chores, paying some bills, and curled in your bed with Netflix on you TV.

“The kids,” you heard Hoseok say, and opened your eyes to face him. “They ambushed me.”

You giggled with a nod. “They really like you. Are you sure you don’t want to work with the younger kids in the fall?” You teased, gently bumping his shoulder with yours.

He laughed, ruffling his hair as he sat up, drawing his right leg up to rest his elbow on his knee. “I don’t know how you do it every day.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

“That’s because they love you. You treat them like their yours.” He raised an eyebrow, letting his gaze take you in before focusing on your eyes. This time you were wearing light colored capris and a sky-blue blouse with sandals, and he somehow managed to almost match you in his own tan colored pants and white dress shirt. It was a miracle that the shirt had been spared of getting paint on it.

Shrugging, you brushed your hair back behind your ear. “Well in way, they are for a few hours. You don’t realize it at first but sometimes, these few hours are the only time they get to be kids and have fun. They’re all precious and I love them, and they know that. Kids need love to grow, and they know that this is a safe place for them to be exactly what they are…kids.”

He hadn’t expected such a response from you, it stunned him speechless. But he shouldn’t be so surprised. With all the care and attentiveness, you put into the classroom and gave to them, it should have been obvious. Maybe there was something otherworldly about you after all.

“Well,” you sighed, focusing on the table. “I think it’s time that we cleaned up. The paintbrushes will dry up if we don’t wash the paint out.”

Standing, you held your hand out for Hoseok to take, smiling down at him. “Work isn’t over just yet.” You teased.

Hoseok slipped his hand in yours, allowing you to pull him up. “Yeah, but soon it’ll be the weekend,” he weakly added, hoping you hadn’t noticed the way his hand lingered in yours before pulling away.

As you pulled up a playlist on your phone, just like you had done last night, Hoseok checked his own for any messages and was relieved to see one from his friend Yoongi, asking if he wanted to come over for a drink. Glancing at you, he softly smiled as the room filled with the soft chords of an acoustic guitar and the soothing lullaby in a foreign language.

He thought back to when you said that you had gathered the rocks at the river near your place, suddenly picturing you stopping to take a break, enjoying the sounds of the river gurgling down stream and the singing of the birds. He wondered if there had been any dandelions nearby and if you saw them, would you leave it grow and thrive in the sun, or would you pluck it and hold it near your lips, gently blowing it as you made a wish, the soft breeze flying the seeds into the air with the a childlike hope that maybe it might come true.

A part of him wanted to stay up  tonight and make his own wish at 11:11 pm.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looked back down at his phone and responded with a yes, tucking his phone away. If he was going to try and just be friends with you, he was going to need that drink with Yoongi tonight to keep his daydreams exactly that, simply daydreams.

[shadowling-guistical]

Milestones

SUMMARY: After deciding to take a gap year, Virgil Sanders expected to enter his freshman year of college feeling anxious and out of place. But not if his childhood friends; Patton Hart, Roman Prince and Logan Croft have anything to say about it.

CHARACTERS: Virgil Sanders/Anxiety, Roman Sanders/Creativity, Logan Sanders/Logic, Patton Sanders/Morality, Thomas Sanders (mentioned/background), Remy Sanders (Mentioned/background) Dr. Emille Picani (Mentioned/Background).

PAIRINGS: Platonic LAMP but can be romantic if you squint and sorta tilt your head to the left.

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of therapy and medication. Discussions about university related stress

Read an extended version on AO3.

For @sanders-sides-fanzine‘s The Core of Us Fanzine! If you enjoyed this, consider downloading the zine (which is FREE!) and give the team and contributors some love!

It was, by all means, a normal summer day for one Virgil Sanders. He woke up, had breakfast, took his meds and logged on to chat with his close friends. That is, until his mother told him he had mail before she headed out to work. She had kissed him on the top of his head, as if she didn’t just send a jolt of electricity striking through his heart, oblivious as she handed him money to share with his siblings.

He excused himself from their voice chat and went down to retrieve it. As though psychic, each of his friends wished him luck in their own ways. They gushed and reassured him in their group chat while sending something totally separate in the Direct messages. Patton sent him a wholesome, motivating meme. Logan sent him a single question mark. Roman began blowing up his direct messages with fragments of excited texts. He in particular was excited for Virgil to finally join them in campus after taking a gap year for mental health reasons.

He passed by his baby brother watching his morning cartoons. His middle brother, Remy was probably still asleep. Virgil ruffled Thomas’ hair as he retreated back to his bedroom.

A whirl of emotions settled in his stomach after Virgil closed the door behind him. It began settling into a poisonous miasma of nervousness and dread, both very hot and very icy.

Virgil slid a nail edge under the flap- tearing it open. He took the contents out, scanned the words and-

…

“…Oh…”

.

.

 His status soon went from online to idle and finally, offline.

.

.

.

That night, Patton spent his evening fretting over the lack of a reply. Where was the usual emoji of a purple heart? Frustrated, he finally stopped pacing around his room long enough to go down to the kitchen. His freckled face screwed in determination while he took out his mixing bowls. Now, what was the recipe for chocolate brownies again?

Logan waited with bated breath for that single exclamation point. Over the next few hours, he forced himself to calm down. He reminded himself that Virgil probably needed logic and reason the most at this moment. He put away his phone and began looking up the procedure for an admission appeal. The date shouldn’t be too far away, right? Or perhaps another institution nearby?

Roman found himself wishing for a snarky reply about how much they will be seeing each other on campus.  He waited as time stretched out to midnight and beyond. Before he slept, he made a mental note to find his copy of Black Cauldron amongst his extensive collection of Disney Movies. A Disney movie night never failed to cheer his friend up!

.

.

.

Next mid afternoon, Virgil found himself nervously tapping his feet as he waited for someone to pick up the call he was making. He spent earlier that morning in his regular therapy sessions with his therapist. Virgil mainly talked about his current development of events. Doctor Picani had advised him to talk to his support system about his fears, and to be open to them. And that was what Virgil was attempting to do.

 "Hello?? Virgil?" 

 Virgil swallowed, throat suddenly dry.

 "Hey Pat… um…" 

 Patton, bless him, patiently waited for Virgil instead of bombarding him with questions. 

 "Take your time kiddo. Roman and Logan are with me, do you want this to be on speaker?" 

 "Yeah, Pat… That'll uh… That'll be swell." 

 Great. Might as well get this over with. There was a click and Virgil can hear rustling from the other line. 

 "Virgil," He heard Logan speak in his calm timbre, "Are you well?" 

 "Yeah I am actually… just ...well," A deep breath, "I got accepted Lo." 

 "Ah… Congratulations!" Logan sounded sincere, while there was a flurry of voices in the background. Probably Roman and Patton being excited.

 "Thanks Lo…" Virgil sat down on his bed heavily. 

 "You don't sound so happy about it, J Delightful. You didn’t even came back to talk to us yesterday,” 

 "I am Ro.. I am… But… God. I’m sorry for being a jerk. When I read the letter. I was…happy. But…" 

 "…You panicked?" 

 "... Yeah…" Virgil mumbled, beginning to rub his eyes, "And it's not even because I'm struggling. Dr P and I are doing great! My meds are fine. He's teaching me how to deal with everything… But I still feel…" 

 "Unprepared…?" 

 Patton's calming voice sort of broke something in him, and Virgil felt his throat close up and his eyes water. 

 “…Scared…"

 "Oh kiddo…" 

 "Virgil…You know that you don't have to go now. There's always the option of delaying or opting to start at the second intake," 

 "I know that Lo…But I really want to go NOW. But ugh…" Virgil let himself fall back onto his bed and sniffed, "I just got so overwhelmed. Thinking of the things I need to pack, classes, paperwork…Picking a major. Where do I even BEGIN?"

 "We understand. Look, me and Specs need to go soon. How do you feel about Patton coming over to keep you company? We’ll handle the other stuff later. Together." 

 "That's right Kiddo! I have some brownies here with your name on em!" 

 Virgil wiped his eyes with the edge of his hoodie sleeve, "That sounds… amazing, Pat. You'd do that?" 

 "In a Hart-beat," The pun made Virgil smile. "And if you want, I can help you find some on campus resources. The counselling department has some amazing counsellors," 

 Virgil took a deep breath, and exhaling slowly, "... Yeah.. I think I'd like that…Thanks Patton" 

 "Excellent. I shall look up other relevant information for a later date."

 "Right…" Virgil agreed, "Thanks L...Princey. I appreciate it a lot." 

 "Anything for our emo." 

 "See you soon Virgil!"

. 

. 

. 

The next few days passed by like a blur. It was all hands-on deck, with Patton, Logan and Roman helping him in all matters big and small. 

Patton came by, gave him a hug and fed him the brownies. Later, he sat with Virgil in front of his computer, guiding him on all the resources available on campus. After a while, Virgil found himself mulling very little as he sent an email to a counsellor on campus to set up an appointment. In fact, he daresay he started to look forward to it. Patton was there throughout the whole process, just generally providing the best help he could have ever asked for. Virgil asked him questions extensively, and Patton patiently answered each and every one.

His support and help prompted Virgil to later wear a small enamel badge he found while browsing a thrift store. It reminded Virgil that there are people looking out and supporting him at every turn in his life. 

With an appointment with a counsellor now booked, Virgil turned his attention to his classes. In this area, Logan came in- keen and determined. 

Armed with several sheets of printed out information, he came to Virgil's house the night after Patton left.

He explained Virgil's options, going through one suggestion at a time. He reassured him about choosing his major, telling him that he can remain undeclared as long as he needed to. But also to be mindful about what classes he decides to take. Highlighter in hand, they slowly but surely mapped out the classes Virgil could register in his first year. It was balanced in that it both provided enough time for him to settle in his new environment and for Virgil to still get the credit hours he needed.

It was because of Logan that Virgil started carrying with him a small nondescript journal. He wrote everything in it, from reminders to To Do lists. It helped him plan, and made him recall Logan's words that learning is always something that Virgil has control over. 

Roman literally came in full force. Barging in early one morning and boisterously announcing his arrival to help him pack. Surprisingly, he was very helpful. He took the time to help Virgil organise everything and all the while, they just… talked. They bantered and joked. Each day, Roman never failed to show up. He skillfully took Virgil's mind of the stress of moving away as the date crawled nearer. He talked about the plays that will be put on that semester, promising to introduce Virgil to the cast and crew. Remembering their high school days, Virgil promised to consider trying out as the crew and Roman smiled encouragingly, saying nothing more. 

And if Virgil started wearing a little red in any instance where he needed a boost of confidence, Roman didn't need to know that too.

.

.

. 

Virgil admitted he took a little while to get to certain milestones compared to his peers. But as Roman's car began to move away from their neighbourhood, Logan's GPS pre-set to Florida University and Patton's brownies started being passed around, he realized that taking his time was well worth it. 

[charcutetaerie]

Home (Final)

Genre: Fluff / HurtandComfort?

Pairings: OC (Jae Eun) x CEO!Baekhyun

Summary: After returning from a busy week traveling to promote his brand, Privé, OC helps Baekhyun dry and brush their hair after a shower, pampering him and being there when he needs her the most.

__________________________________________

Being far from each other was becoming more and more difficult for both of them. While Jae Eun was completely okay with him leaving for a week, Baekhyun could not stop giving her words and touches of affection the days before leading to his departure. Of course, Jae Eun thought he was always this way since he could not live an hour separated, even if it was a trip to the grocery store.

But now her loneliness had caught up and the many times she had bad days to share she would be talking to no one unconsciously thinking he was there with her; she realized his presence was needed more than ever and she took it for granted. Texting wasn’t as exciting as talking, especially when she has a boyfriend with a calming voice. Besides, he rarely replied back only to say he fell asleep or that he was busy.

Sleeping was also not as enjoyable. The first two days was occupied by her work as a substantive editor. Revising manuscripts of an upcoming book of a famous author took up her time that it was easy to fall asleep.

But now as she and the author argued over the structure of an upcoming book, Jae Eun needed Baekhyun. As a freelance substantive editor, she built her reputation by helping new writers get their books high ratings and in magazines. Now her reputation may crumble if she does not succeed in making this book a hit, especially since the author is already successful.

Hugging Baekhyun after a long day was what she liked coming home to. But Jae Eun didn’t think of that when he announced he was leaving for a week as his brand Prive was starting to become popular and almost everyone wanted to interview him.

‘One more day’, Jae Eun thought to herself as she hugged a pillow while watching whatever she could find on TV.

It was Saturday and the day where she thought she could enjoy whatever comfort she had, the author once again messaged her but this time, it did her a good amount of damage.

She could not remember the email word for words but some words stuck out and made her feel as if she was sinking into a black abyss:

‘A new editor…hired…taking over…you are dismissed’.

That early Saturday morning, she spent it crying, wondering where she went wrong. And now that there were no more tears to cry, the message still haunted her and she could image how it was read in his voice.

‘Come home soon, Baek.’ She thought before falling asleep.

A few minutes afterwards, Baekhyun showed up on screen in an interview.

 ‘Today’s the day!’ Jae Eun took a moment in bed to ponder why she was awake if she didn’t have anything to edit.

The thought of finally feeling him, hugging him, the feeling of his lips against her in a chaste kiss – sometimes playful and other times it escalated to the bedroom with moaning – but most of all she missed the comforting silence between them in one room as Jae Eun would be busy editing and Baekhyun busy brainstorming ideas for his collection.

The email, though still fresh in her mind, no longer bothered her. After reflecting and crying herself to sleep, she came to terms that it wasn’t her fault. Maybe the author wanted to have approval rather than a second opinion. One person wasn’t going to ruin her reputation, famous or not.

Finding a purpose to get up, she began to clean around the house – even deep cleaning the refrigerator. Today she was going to greet Baekhyun beautifully. Clean floors, furniture, table tops. Today was a much-needed hug and pampering from Baekhyun after a horrible week. Between the two, Baekhyun was more affectionate than Jae Eun, at least more open display of affection. Jae Eun, well…you’ll see.

The time it took her to clean everything spotless and bought groceries, it was already three in the afternoon. Thinking of what else to do, Jae Eun suddenly though of what to cook for him before he comes home. He loves everything she cooks so it shouldn’t be hard, but she wanted his first meal from her after a whole week to be memorable.

Scrolling and searching on her computer, she found what she thought was basic meals until she disappointed herself because nothing seemed to appeal to her on what would impress Baekhyun. Dejected, she closed her laptop and put it to her side on the bed and picked up her phone on the nightstand to distract herself while thinking about dinner.

Unbeknownst to her, an hour ago a message was sent to her, as indicated by the icon on her screen.

It was Baekhyun.

And it wasn’t was she expected.

 Baekhyun

I don’t think I will arrive today.

I’m sorry.

 No explanation, just that he wasn’t coming home today.

“What the fuck is this? Why Not?” Jae Eun typed on her phone. She was ready to pour her anger into a long paragraph when she stopped herself mid-sentence. ‘It might not be his fault. Maybe he had to check something that went wrong. Or added a last-minute interview’.

Deleting her hateful paragraph, she thought of how she could best rephrase her concerns but all she could respond is:

 Jae Eun

Okay

 ‘Well, I guess I got my hopes up for nothing’. And while this little remark was meant to ease the hurt, it really did hit her hard. The longing of the feeling of his lips was going to go on for another day.

‘Well, at least I have another day to think of what to make’.

Tired, disappointed, and hungry, Jae Eun figured she might as well solve one of her three problems – first her hunger. Craving cheese and meat, she opted for a simple but extra cheesy lasagna. A messy process but worth it, except when cleaning came afterwards.

Keeping her mind off Baekhyun for a while, she salivated at the smell emanating from the oven. While she stood there watching it cook and her stomach growling, she came out of her thoughts when she heard the doorknob of the front door jiggle loudly.

Startled, all she could think and do was stare at the front door standing still in the kitchen; the door opened slightly, a suitcase entered first before the door opened wide. And then, Jae Eun really couldn’t function properly.

Was it a hallucination? No, the noises are sure real. But wasn’t he supposed to return tomorrow?

Checking the time on the kitchen clock it was only 9 in the evening.

“How-Who-Wha-Whe-Baekhyun!” Jae Eun sighed as she approached him with quick steps, smashing into him with force into a hug, but Baekhyun was more eager.

They hugged, relishing in the contact they both craved, thinking how it was possible to miss someone so much. But that didn’t matter now, everything is as it should be.

“Welcome Home,” She said into his ear. Pulling back, she cupped his face to inspect the face she has been waiting to see. The Baekhyun a week before was much different than the Baekhyun now.

Dark circles clearly contrasted his paler-than-usual skin. The sclera, the white part of his eyes, painted with red. A few pimples starting to form on his cheeks, but nonetheless still handsome with the same love in his eyes as he smiled to her, planting a kiss on her forehead.

 “Thank you,” he hugged her again.

“I missed you,” Jae Eun said as she took in the smell of him. His scent had started to disappear from the bed they shared. She was glad to have the scent come back, and he himself of course.

“I missed you more, love”.

Love.

When they first started dating, Jae Eun was annoyed that he chose to call her that instead of something original. Now, she somehow found comfort and a deeper meaning for that word.

Love.

The love he held for her and she for him.  An endearing word that expressed his emotions for her. Many people may call their significant other that word, but when Baekhyun say it, it’s like honey. Her heart is showered in affection.  And every time he says it, her heart fills and spreads its warmth throughout her body. She is complete.

 “I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow,” she said as they both embraced with eyes closed.

“I couldn’t stay away any longer. I had to bribe people until someone gave up their seat. I had to sit next to a woman and her crying child who would not stop until arrival”.

And those words somehow made her smile more.

 Baekhyun has always been a pleaser, especially to her when they went to the mall to buy a simple cheap dress for Jae Eun, she took a detour to window shop at the Gucci store – looking at its diamond covered slippers. Jae Eun insisted she didn’t need it but it was nice to look at. After they got home and without Jae Eun knowing, as she was busy with her work, Baekhyun returned again with the slippers she eyed earlier.

And when she’s on her monthly cycle, he is there with a heating pad, her favorite chocolate, and orders her the greasiest foods she likes to eat. And all he asks in return is for a hug or a kiss.

He would move mountains for her and this was one of the many ways he shows his love. Not even a long-distanced trip could make him stay away from her.

She smiles into his shoulders until a thought came to mind and a pang of guilt strained her heart.

 How could I be so selfish?

 Earlier that day she was planning on telling him (more like complaining) the awful week she has had with the rudest person who was, in a way, her boss. But, how could she? Here is the most selfless man standing with blood-red eyes probably dying for a need of a good night’s rest after suffering on an airplane listening to a child’s cries. And yet, she expected more from him. For him to listen to her ranting while he was going off of however much energy he had left.

 “You must be hungry. I’m making lasagna. Do you want some?”

His stomach answered before he verbally expressed himself. Laughing at his stomach’s response, Jae Eun lead him to the kitchen where the timer had just gone off.

Opening the oven, the smell of the melted mozzarella and parmesan cheese hit her nostril before she knew it and it reached Baekhyun too as a faint grumble erupted from behind her.

With a plate in front of him, she watched amusingly as she cut up a piece for him and put it on his plate, the cheese staining the table as it was being transported.  Baekhyun was salivating like a dog at that point and as soon as he took a bite, it was over.

With table manner seemingly thrown out the window, he dug in, spilling food around the table as he tried to stuff his mouth with as much as he could handle. All Jae Eun could do was watch in amusement. The pride of seeing him enjoy her food made her want to cook a whole buffet if it meant she’d get to see him happily munch and hum in approval.

If she didn’t love editing a writer’s idea and making it come to life, she would most likely choose cooking as a second option of a career.

Jae Eun was too immersed in her thoughts when Baekhyun spoke.

 “Huh?” she asked. Missing what he said.

“Are you not eating?”

 Seeing as the baking dish was halfway eaten, her stomach growled in response.

 “Yeah. I guess I am.”

   “Do you want to shower?”

“You go ahead. I’m full.” A satisfied Baekhyun laid in bed rubbing his belly.

 Happy that she was able to satisfy his hunger, she went ahead.

An hour later after a dry brushing session, shower, and skin care regimen – she was out, only to see Baekhyun sleeping with his mouth open and one leg dangling from the bed. Smiling, Jae Eun went over to wake him up, even though he did need a good rest.

 Groggily, he woke up, looking around while mumbling “What, what?”

How is a twenty-seven-year-old man this cute? Looking like a dazed baby?

 “Go take a shower so you sleep better”.

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” he turned away from her and curled into a ball.

Laughing, she said, “No, you nasty. You must be uncomfortable with that suit on. The water is ready. Come on. I’ll dry brush you”.

Rocking him back and forth, Baekhyun finally agreed and went to the bathroom.

 With clothes already discarded, Baekhyun sat on a shower stool (as directed by Jae Eun) and let her brush his dead skin away – all while Jae Eun looked at him from the body mirror. His sunken eyes and dark circles were a dead giveaway on how badly he wanted to sleep. Even so, he still tried his best to stay awake as she gave him a bath.

Done washing him, she led Baekhyun to the bathtub where he leaned over the edge and laid his head there, letting Jae Eun pour warm water onto his back.

 “This feels nice…could you do it again?”

“Do what?” Jae Eun asked as she rubbed the water she poured on his back.

“Massage my head”. And that she did.

 Baekhyun was starting to slide underwater. He was losing the fight to stay awake.

 “Come on, Baekhyun, let’s get out. The waters turning cold”.

 He jolted up, realizing he was falling asleep in the bath tub, and got out to dry himself while Jae Eun went to get clothes for him.

He left the bathroom with the towel wrapped around his hips. Jae Eun didn’t let him clothe himself as she pulled his clothes behind her back and he gave up and let her do the honors. Afterwards, he rubbed his hair hastily with the towel before dropping himself on the bed and the towel on the ground.

Silence engulfed the air as Jae Eun look at him, her heart almost breaking seeing him …well, done. The thought of him under watchful eyes, always on the lookout and filming his every move must be much more tiring than working from home without having any cameras or flashes in your face all the time.

“Baekhyun.”

“Hm.”

“Come here”. He turned to look at her, his eyes half opened. Jae Eun was patting her chest and he needn’t any more to say for him to go and rest his head on top of her chest. He rubbed his head against her, um, breasts?

To be honest, she didn’t have the big plump breasts most girls had. At just an A cup size, there was nothing more she was insecure about than her breasts and her insecurities heightened when she saw on television and in person, when Baekhyun asked her to come to local events with him, the beautiful models and guests Baekhyun interacted with who clearly were much better than her.

Baekhyun always tells her that with or without big breast, he’d still love her. As for why, since most of the men she dated always pointed out her flat chest and recommended her to get a boob job, she will never understand how he would choose hers over anyone else. But if he’s happy then she’ll take it.

“You’re going to get sick if you don’t dry your hair properly,” she put the discarded towel she picked up earlier on his head and rubbed his hair in circles.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled.

“For what?”

“You probably wanted to talk about your week and I’m so fucking tired right now.”

Another pang of guilt filled Jae Eun’s heart. He was selfless to the core and, not to mention, attentive as well. Even when he was tired, she still thought of her and is now apologizing for wanting something every human being needed - sleep.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It’s not important, it can wait.” Jae Eun threw the towel to the ground and ran her finger through his hair, massaging his scalp in tiny circles down to the back of his neck. “To be honest, I wanted you to come home more than me talking about my week...I missed you”.

Baekhyun chuckled, his breath tickled her chest.

“Says the one that was fine with me leaving.”

“I didn’t think it was going to be difficult,” she shrugged.

“I missed you too. God was that whole week hell for me,” he said. But then again, he always expressed himself that way for even the tiniest amount of time they were apart. 

But maybe he wasn’t exaggerating this time as Jae Eun could imagine her longing for him must have been tripled the amount of his longing for her.

“I can’t remember when or if I took a proper rest or a decent meal. It felt like after one interview I hopped on a plan to another location nonstop. I’m fucking done for.”

Jae Eun Laughed. Baekhyun’s vocabulary tended to be colorful when he was tired, irritated, or both. And those two combined , while at work, was the scariest of all.

Without thinking, she said, “Why don’t you stop for a little bit then. You look like you’re about to die.”

“You know I’ve been dreaming of this since we met. And if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have been able to see it become reality”.

“Hmm...true,” she smiled reminiscing of the past. 

Oh but what true opposites they were. With Baekhyun dressing in luxurious clothing and Jae Eun dressed in what looked like it was passed down to her (later to reveal she bought her clothes at a thrift store), who would’ve thought that it was not like it seemed.

With Jae Eun being born into a family of wealthy and famous writers, her simple and cheap lifestyle did not give away her origins. As for Baekhyun, having been born to parents who work in repairing machinery and reselling them, his choice of clothing did not scream poor. 

And it did not stop there. Baekhyun openly expressed his feelings towards her and she, being reserved, did not reply back the same.Though they spoke of love differently, they both understand each others language. Even when others thought Jae Eun was with Baekhyun for his rising brand and money, they both knew better than that.

And boy were they going to be surprised if their background were to be revealed to the public.

“Besides, I can handle the stress of my company. I just need you to help me get through it all.”

And Jae Eun could not agree more. She was stupid to believe Baekhyun went overboard when showering her with adoration. Now, as she realized throughout the whole week, if she was as open as Baekhyun, she could show how much Baekhyun had become part of her life. She too needed Baekhyun to get through hard times.

But right now, Baekhyun needed her more. He, who seemed to have an unlimited supply of love for her, is now burnt out. Now, it’s her turn to take care of him. Not that she didn’t, she always took care of him when he was sick or injured but this time she was nursing his soul back to health. 

She has a love big enough for the both of them. And what better way to return his affections than by giving him what he wants - cuddles and kisses with a little mix of her own affection of food.

“So now what? Are you done?”

“No...I have three days free before I need to do another week of traveling,” he sighed and groaned at the though of leaving again.

Jae Eun also shared the same feeling. After being away for one week, three days wasn’t going to be enough to return the contact she craved from Baekhyun. Would she be able to do it again? After a messy firing and stressful days of arguing, she needed him to ease her ache. 

Jae Eun took everything to heart but Baekhyun always knows what to say to ease her heart. But now that there was no book to edit, what was she going to do over the next seven days after these upcoming three days they had left to be together?

Come to think of it, she didn’t have people who she could call friends. Maybe acquaintances or fill-in-the-void people but she always hung out with Baekhyun.

“Baekhyun.”

“Mmm,” he said. His face between her chest.

“When it’s time to leave...could you take me with you?”

And suddenly, that simple question made Baekhyun come to life. His face lifted to see her and though he still had dark circles, his wide smile contrasted his tiring look.

While Jae Eun’s career was at home, Baekhyun’s was spreading worldwide.

And being the selfless pleaser that he is, he didn’t want to ask her to drop her work for a whole week just for him. Once again he thought of what she wanted, but now as Jae Eun herself asked to come along with him he didn’t feel bad. After all, she was going to come on her own volition.

“You want to?” His breath was shaky.

“Yeah...to be honest. I don’t think I can be away from you another week. Besides, who’s gonna cook you delicious food?”

And though Jae Eun tried to dismiss her deep affirmation of love for him, Baekhyun would always see through her. He knew her more than she knew herself.

“I love you, too, love”.

And with that, he saw cheeks slowly turn red as she bit her lip and rolled her eyes.

“Shut up and go to sleep,” Jae Eun pressed his head back on her chest.

With a smile plastered in both of their faces, they knew the effect they had on each other. Especially when Baekhyun openly said the magic word:

love.

This is home.

THE END.

______________________________________________________

A/N: This is my first time writing so please be gentle with the comment. I’d like some feedback too on how I can improve. Also, I don’t think my summary justifies the story but for now I’ll keep it that way.

Thank you reading this (horrible story).

[svtmatokis]

Jihoon Office AUP1

Hello friends~ So as promised, I will be re-posting the Jihoon Office AU! today as well as two other fics which was listed in earlier posts. I hope you guys enjoy it!!! (I’m not going to blab much as I repost this since they are what they are...reposts...)

Genre: Romance/Fluff/Angst

Plot: You and Seungcheol have been best friends forever and as a favor, you agree to be temporary assistant of the one Lee Jihoon.

Words: 3427

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 -

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” your best friend Seungcheol said as you walked into his office building. “I owe you lunch, dinner anything!” 

“Why are you making such a big deaI out of this?” you asked as he took you to your floor. “It’s not like you’re having me work with the devil or anything..” 

Seungcheol only grinned nervously at you, “You’re doing me and my dad a huge favor so I can’t thank you enough.��� 

You and Seungcheol were best friends since high school until you decided to go overseas for university while he stayed and went to a local university. Though the two of you kept in contact over the last few years over the phone and email, you realistically haven’t seen each other since the end of summer graduating year. 

During your breaks, you never returned home to Korea and opted to travel the world instead but after graduation you had worked abroad as a business executive for three years till you felt like home was calling you so you decided to move back to Korea and that was where you reconnected with Seungcheol.

A few weeks ago, he had asked you for a favor since he knew your major had something to do with business and without knowing what it was outside of just knowing that it was a temporary assistant job, you agreed. 

Now as he got more and more nervous, you couldn’t help but wonder why? He hadn’t told you much about the job except it was to be an administrator which was fine for now. You had sent in your application to various companies hoping to hear back from at least one, but a temporary assistant job would do in the meantime.

As the two of you exited the elevator, Seungcheol lead you to the door of one of the managers. He knocked on the door but was met with a bark.

“What did I say about not bothering me when I’m in the middle of something?!”  a loud voice boomed from behind the door.

The voice made you jump a little as Seungcheol hesitantly opened the door and peeked his head in. 

“Morning” Seungcheol said with a grin on his face. 

Jihoon looked up from the paperwork he was doing and the cold demeanour in the room diminished,  “Oh, Seungcheol. Sorry, I thought it was one of the interns again, they’ve been coming to my office with questions all morning.” 

Seungcheol shook his head, “It’s good, I wanted to introduce you to the person who’s going to be filling your assistants spot while she’s out sick for the next three weeks.” He said, “More like stress leave because of how hard you are to please” he muttered  himself though you heard him and giggled before he opened the door wider allowing you to walk in.

“Jihoon, this is Y/N, my best friend from high school, Y/N, this is Jihoon, he’s one of the managers and board members.” Seungcheol introduced as you bowed.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’ll do my best.” you said smiling at him. 

A slight flush appeared on Jihoons cheeks as he saw you walk in the door and couldn’t help but stare and think how pretty you were before shaking himself out of his daze. 

Straightening himself up, he nodded his head, “Hello, I have a really busy schedule so you better be able to keep up. I don’t know what Seungcheol has told you, but this job isn’t easy.” 

You inwardly smirked, so he was one of those kinds of people. You nodded your head, “I  wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

Seungcheol smiled at you before turning to Jihoon, “I’ll leave her to you then.” he turned to you, “I’ll see you at lunch?” 

You nodded your head, “I’ll see you at lunch.” 

Seungcheol nodded and walked out of the office leaving you and Jihoon in an awkward silence.

Jihoon cleared his throat as you looked at him. “I’ll introduce you to some of the people on our floor and the managers first then I’ll show you your desk.” he got up and opened the door as you followed him out. 

He introduced you to various people like interns and associates before he turned to walk to another set of offices.

“Oh perfect, they’re all in here.” he said knocking on the door. 

Four sets of eyes turned to look at you and you smiled nervously, only recognizing Seungcheol.

“Guy’s minus Seungcheol, this is Y/N, she’s going to be filling the spot of my assistant till she gets back. If you need anything from me, it goes through her.” Jihoon said introducing you as you bowed before Jihoon continued. 

“Y/N, these are a few of the other managers here, of course you know Seungcheol, the one with the ponytail is Jeonghan, the one who looks like a sloth-”

“Hey!”

“Is Wonwoo and the one next to him is Joshua.” Jihoon finished. 

Each of the managers greeted you with a smile as Seungcheol explained that the two of you were high school friends and that you had recently returned from abroad. 

Once introductions were finished, Jihoon said that he was going to show you where your desk was and what kind of work to expect. As the door closed, Joshua couldn’t help but speak up. 

“I think I went to university with her.” 

Three set eyes were on him as Seungcheol nodded his head.

“Ah...that’s right...you went to UCLA right?” he asked as Joshua nodded a look of realization dawning on his face. 

“That’s right, she was actually in a few of my classes and she graduated top of our year. She’s smart, like really smart. She could almost give Jihoon a run for his money.” Joshua said and looked at Seungcheol, “Why did you hire her as Jihoon’s assistant?” 

Seungcheol shrugged, “His last one took stress leave because of how hard he ran her to the  ground. Y/N’s been an executive for a few big companies world wide and is known to be well respected in her field.  She works just as hard as Jihoon but when it comes to personalities they’re completely different. I figured that if she survives three weeks with him, we can look into having her fill that manager position we have open.” 

The three other men looked at each other in contemplation. Seungcheol did have a point. Jihoon was one of the toughest managers of the company, holding everyone under him to a high standard. He himself was a workaholic, almost never leaving the office till late. While everyone else would go out after work, he would stay until he was actually done everything for the day.

“He has a point, she’s been working abroad ever since graduation. She has a lot of experience that we could use.” Joshua said backing Seungcheol up.

Jeonghan and Wonwoo shared a look before nodding their heads. 

“If she can last the next three weeks with Jihoon, we’ll look into having her on board with us permanently.” Wonwoo said as the three nodded in agreement. 

Meanwhile, Jihoon had just shown you to your desk which had been left in a complete mess by his previous assistant. He showed you the whole email system and what software you would be working with, thanking the heavens that you were familiar with all of them. 

“If you have any questions, I’ll be in my office. I have three meetings back to back today, I expect you to have all the paperwork ready by 1pm. That’s an hour before my first meeting.” he said before going back to his office and slamming the door shut. 

You looked at the door and looked back at your new desk before letting out a sigh. Seungcheol owed you. You looked at the clock and noticed that it was already 10am, meaning you had three hours to get all the paperwork Jihoon needed for his meetings. You looked at the calendar and saw the name of the three meetings listed and you got to work. 

It was 12:45 when Jihoon stepped out of his office. He had expected you to come into his office multiple times like his previous assistants had done but was shocked when he saw you working on the computer, desk neatly organized and three stacks of papers labeled 2pm, 4pm and 5pm. 

Before Jihoon could make a comment, Joshua and Seungcheol turned the corner and made his way to your desk. 

“Hey Y/N” Joshua said waving as you looked up from your computer though you continued typing making Seungcheol chuckle.

“What’s up?” you asked the two boys though you noticed Jihoon from the corner of your eye. 

“We were just about to grab lunch, want to come with?” Seungcheol asked.

Before you could respond Jihoon cut in, “Y/N, how are my notes for my meetings coming along?” he asked making you turn to look at him. 

“Lunch sounds great actually.” you said nodding before taking the stacks of papers and handing them to Jihoon, “And here are the notes for your meeting, I’ve reviewed and highlighted a few key points. I hope you don’t mind.” you said grabbing your purse, “I’ll be going for lunch now” you bowed at him before following Seungcheol and Joshua out leaving Jihoon standing there, amazed that you actually got the notes done on time, well slightly early to be exact.

“Did you go to UCLA?” Joshua asked once the three of you were seated. 

You nodded your head, “Why?” 

“You took Professor Birk’s class right? Economics?” Joshua asked and you realized why Joshua had looked slightly familiar. 

“We were in the same study group weren’t we?” you asked as he nodded, a smile making its way to his face. “Wow, small world. How did you end up in Korea?” 

Joshua shrugged his shoulders, “Seungcheol and I have been friends for quite sometime and after graduation, I came to visit and he offered me a position at his fathers company. Three years later, here I am.” he explained, “What about you? I recall you were the only one in our class who had internship offers from Europe.” 

“And I took them” you said smiling, “But after three years abroad, I got home sick and thought it was time to come home.” 

“Plus she missed me” Seungcheol said grinning as you rolled your eyes. 

“In your dreams Cheol.” you said rolling your eyes at your best friend. “So what’s the deal with Jihoon? You guys asked me out for lunch but didn’t extend the invite to him though he was standing right there.” 

Seungcheol and Joshua looked at each other before Seungcheol replied, “We ask him all the time to go out for lunch but he normally has meetings and doesn’t have the time. I guess we just got to a point where we stopped asking because he always kept saying no. We’re not sure if he even eats or not, he’s not really close with anyone on the management team except Joshua.” 

Joshua nodded his head, “I normally remind him to eat and to go home early or what not but he never listens. Always in his office till late at night. He’s going to run himself dry one day, I swear.” 

You nodded your head silently, thinking about all the points that both boys made. In a way, Jihoon reminded you of yourself, always working never ending. You remembered the times where you would skip lunch because you would have to go for meetings or how many of your co workers thought you were cold because you never went out with them to eat though in reality, you were just focused on the goal. 

Then you had met Mingyu who had been your mentor and good friend at your old firm. He had learned right away that you were the type to not eat when you were busy and because you were dedicated to your career, there would often be times where you would go a full day without eating which didn’t go unnoticed by Mingyu.

(Flashback)

One day, you had back to back to back meetings and didn’t have time to sit down. You were running completely on fumes and if you didn’t stop soon, you would collapse. Mingyu picked up on this fast and had been observing you throughout that day. He knew that you hadn’t eaten nor were you planning on eating at all until your meetings were done and what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t step in and help you?

In between your second and third meeting, you had about a thirty minute break which you were going to use to review the notes for your third meeting when you saw a box of your favorite sushi and milk tea on your desk with a note on it.

Just because you’re busy doesn’t mean you can’t make time to have a quick meal. The work can wait, your health can’t!  - M

(End of Flashback)

You smiled at the memory and thought of your old friend. He had saved you that day and after that, you had remembered to at least snack between meetings, keeping various power bars in your desk just in case. 

As the three of you continued lunch, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift to Jihoon who was probably reviewing the notes for his first meeting, he had a break between his first and second meeting where he would probably review the notes for his second and third meetings at once. This was how you assumed his mind worked. 

An idea came to your mind as you finished your lunch and soon you were making your way back to the office with an extra bag in his hand.

Jihoon was walking back to his office after his first meeting which had been a success. The highlighted notes you had made really helped him get his point across and he had to admit, he was slightly impressed. 

He saw you sitting at your desk, organizing some paperwork he had set aside for you to do when you had time which made him see that you were efficient with your work. He stepped into his office and was greeted with the smell of something delicious. 

He looked at his desk and saw a bowl of jajangmyeon next to his notes. He looked around the office to see who could’ve left it for him though he caught that knowing smile on your face as a small blush made a way to his. He closed his door as he opened the container, getting hit with the smell of the noodles, before proceeding to eat while reviewing his notes for his second meeting. 

After your first week, you and Jihoon had managed to come up with a system that worked for the two of you. After your first day, Jihoon had learned that you were completely different than what he had assumed and after talking with the other managers, it was safe to say that you were meeting all of his expectations. As the week went on, you continued to buy lunch for him and left it on his desk for him to eat in between meetings. Though he knew that the lunches were from you, it was as if you had a silent agreement not to verbally acknowledge it.

It was Friday and Jeonghan had invited you out for dinner and drinks with Joshua, Seungcheol, Wonwoo and to your surprise, Jihoon. 

The group ended up at a lounge where everyone looked much more relaxed and you were finally able to see how everyone was. 

You noted that Wonwoo and Jihoon were more of the quiet ones, whilst Jeonghan and Seungcheol had a tendency to lead the conversation, Joshua would give his two cents here and there but overall would just listen and smile.  

As the night, everyone had a good time and for the first time since you started, you were able to have a conversation with Jihoon without the awkwardness, though it was probably due to the alcohol running through both your systems. 

You learned that he had once been passionate about music producing before real life had taken a toll and he had to focus on the business though if he had the time, he would definitely go back to producing again. It was the first time he had thanked you for the meals you had secretly bought him so he would eat, in which you completely denied though it was obvious it had been you. 

The group had learned that you and Seungcheol had been best friends since freshman year of high school and that the two of you had a big sibling complex with one another since you two were only children which is why there were times Seungcheol came off as protective. 

Jihoon watched you that night, all he could watch was you. When you talked to Wonwoo about the endless library you had and your love for books, or when you spoke with Jeonghan about this cafe you had once gone to in Paris and would like to go to again. There were also times where  Joshua would bring up a college story of something he remembered from class which in the end would end up either embarrassing you or you embarrassing him. 

He watched you and Seungcheol closely to see if there was anything more than friendship was going on but cancelled that out when he saw you help him get the cute hostess’s number. 

At the end of the night, everyone went their separate ways after you ensured them that you were okay walking back to your apartment alone, with each of them, including Jihoon making you promise that you text them when you arrive home. 

As Jihoon watched you walk in the direction of your apartment, he couldn’t help but feel this unsettling feeling in his gut. Quickly shaking it off and telling himself it was because he had quite a bit to drink, he started his walk to his apartment which was seemingly on the same path as yours.

As he was walking to his apartment he heard a scream which sounded almost like your voice which caused his senses to awaken. 

A second scream had him running to the direction where he heard it coming from, him taking his phone out just in case he had to call 911.

Your scream lead him to an alleyway where he saw you pinned against the wall with a man holding your shoulder while you had a few scratches on your legs probably from falling. Jihoon looked around him for something he could use as a weapon, a bat or a stick of some sort. 

You struggled against your captors grip as you let out another scream in which this time he covered your mouth with his hand. 

The man chuckled deeply as he watched you struggle. “I told you that you shouldn’t have come back. Now you’re going to have to pay” he said his face getting close to yours, “Seungcheol isn’t here to protect you anymore.” he slapped you hard causing you to fall on the ground.

Before anything else could happen, the man was quickly knocked away. You struggled to look up but saw someone kicking the man who was now on the floor. You struggled to see how it was but you felt too dizzy to do so. The next thing you knew, there was someone else joining that person and more punches were thrown before your world went black. 

(Five minutes earlier)

The moment Jihoon saw the man’s hand touch you, he was already running towards you with a plank in his hands, hitting the guy behind the legs so he would fall. 

He continued to kick the man who was struggling to get up but found it impossible when another flurry of punches were thrown from a different direction. 

Jihoon looked up to see Wonwoo glaring at the guy on the floor who was now knocked out. Both men clearly out of breath.

“Wonwoo” Jihoon said as man looked at him with a nod.. 

“I was walking by when I heard a scream and then I saw you running from the other side. When I realized it was Y/N-” Wonwoo started to explain before he turned to look at your limp figure.

“Y/N!” Wonwoo and Jihoon both yelled at the same time both running to your side.

[omgviolette12]

After hours- Chapter 4 A professor Loki Fanfic

Previous Chapter

Summary: Evelyn Monroe has been a TA for professor Laufeyson’s Calculus course for four months now. He was known to be quite strict, but that never deterred her from applying for the position in order to be close to the man she had been secretly pining for. One evening, she returns to his office after opening hours… and with her bountiful luck, she walks in on something not meant to be seen.

Chapters: 4/?

Words: 2105

Tags: @milkymaidme @dangertoozmanykids101@alexakeyloveloki  @little-moonbeam-666  @marvel-ous-fics@clovermariear @lynnesm@bitchyikes@moon-child-of-a-poet, @allthecraftandthings@bubblegumspitt

If you’d like to be added, let me know. I’ve also posted this on AO3

________

If Evelyn thought she would get a wink of sleep that night, she was sadly mistaken.

Her thoughts were insistent on replaying certain scenes inside her head, which led her to overthink many things regarding Professor Laufeyson.

She would get flustered when she thought about how nice it felt to sit in his lap, then she’d remember how good he’d smelt. Then the next moment, she’d want a dark hole to swallow her up when she thought about how she ended up there, and why he even bothered to hold her.

In addition to that, she also spent the majority of the time thinking about the woman he was with. While there were many striking similarities between them, there were also differences. The first being that she was much more…voluptuous.

Before the woman could hide the entirety of her lady bits behind her professor’s desk, she saw that her breasts were larger by a considerable margin; While Evelyn wasn’t small-chested, her boobs weren’t nearly as large. The lady’s backside was also quite round and plump, taking the blows of her professor’s…paddle… like jelly.

In simpler terms, the woman was thick. With not one, but three C’s.

Evelyn refused to be a hater and assume she had some work done on her assets, but she wouldn’t deny the possibility.

She continued to compare herself endlessly to the woman - and what she thought her professor’s type might be.

The woman seemed much more mature, experienced, and desirable. And unfortunately, the more she focused on those differences, the more she found the similarities to be mere coincidences.

Evelyn even began to think that she probably did mishear her name. After all, why would he say her name, of all things? Although they had grown comfortable with talking to each other over the past year, he still treated her like all his other students.

He was more attentive for sure, but she attributed that to the fact that she was just slower than the rest of her peers.

And just like that, her insecurities continued to eat at her throughout the night, and well into the morning.

Crushing on a professor really sucks ass…

Evelyn was practically dead on her feet as she went about her day - she opted to stay home and laze about, neglecting to work on her art assignments. She’d curse herself tomorrow when she has to play catch-up, but she didn’t care at the moment as she curled up on the couch to watch her favorite cooking channel.

“Eve! Come do my hair!” Candice came bouncing into the living room, hair wet and comb in tow, “Cmon, get your lazy ass up and help me.”

Evelyn did not bother to raise her head as she replied, “Leave my lazy ass alone and do it yourself.”

“Pleaasee! You know I can’t do hair…”

Candice continued to pester her until she finally gave in, “Okay! Fine! But just know you’re cooking today.”

“Yeah yeah…” Candice plopped her butt unto the couch, handing her the comb, “Bantu knots, I want my curls like yours.”

As Evelyn began to part through her hair, Candice snapped her fingers as if remembering something, “Oh..! You still a TA for professor kinkster or nah?”

Candice yelped as Evelyn combed her hair a bit too roughly, “Prof…Professor what now?”

“You know…whack whack, paddle-waddle. Professor Laufeyson, duh. Did you give him the letter?”

Evelyn gave her elder sister an exasperated look, “Can - can you not call him that? Where did that come from…”

“Eve, you said he was tenderizing some booty with a paddle. He’s kinky as shit!”

“Is.. is that a bad thing, or..?” Evelyn never questioned the oddity of what she witnessed until now, as she thought that everyone did that sort of thing during sex.

“Nah.. it depends on what you like. Some people are into it, but not me.” Candice began to casually munch on some chips that had been left on the coffee table, “You should Google it - Bondage, whips, crazy sex toys, etcetera. Like I said though, not my thing.”

“What.. what in the world are you talkin’ about?” Evelyn was flabbergasted, and it showed clearly on her face.

“Look, all I’m saying is that he’s a freak in the sheets. End of story. Now did you give him the dang letter or not?”

Her head was still reeling from what she was just informed of, but was focused enough to answer her question, “Yeah… I gave it to him.. But…” Her dark skin began to flush red as she once again recalled the events, “I kinda like…passed out? Then woke up in his lap…”

Candice began to choke on her chips, “You.. you what now..? Like…how?!”

“I mean, I didn’t really eat much that day, and then he got too close -“

” - So because he got close…you fainted? Then you woke up…in his lap? His lap sis? Don’t you think that’s a bit…intimate for a teacher to do?“

Evelyn paused, resting the comb in her hair, "Yeah, but… it didn’t really mean anything right? He was probably just worried…”

“Evelyn. Come on.” Candice turned around to give her a pointed look, “Now I know you’re not this stupid…”

“Well, apparently I am! What am I not getting here?”

Her sister looked at her oddly, “Man…mama sheltered your ass to the max. Are you actually this naive?”

Evelyn crossed her arms, a frown coming upon her brows, “Instead of patronizing me, tell me what the hell’s so wrong?”

“Eh… you’ll just get mad. Forget I said anything.”

“Tell me Candice…or you can just finish your damn hair yourself.”

Candice kissed her teeth, “Tsk, don’t get mad, okay? He just seems like…hmm… how do I say this…”

She paused, considering her words carefully, “Like he’s the type to…you know, fuck his students on the regular…have hoes on call, you know the works. Just warning you, I don’t want your feelings hurt.”

“What - No! I mean I get why you think that, but he’s… he’s not like that at all… he apologized to me, and when I asked about the girl, he said she wasn’t a student -”

“ - So she’s his girlfriend then?”

Evelyn was stumped, “No…? I mean… he didn’t really clarify…”

Candice sighed, her expression bordering on pity as she looked at her, “Look, I’m saying this for your own good…but don’t get your hopes up with this man. First of all, he’s your professor who’s like, 13 years your senior? And then -”

“ - It’s just a damn crush, it was never that serious. Drop it.” Evelyn’s voice was cracked with emotion, almost yelling.

“Okay…okay… I’m sorry. You do you.”

Candice grew silent as Evelyn rushed to finish her hair. After that conversation, she just wanted to be alone.

_______________________

It had been a few hours since Evelyn hid away inside her room, sitting at her work desk. She was upset with Candice not only because of the condescending manner in which she spoke to her… but for what she assumed about the professor that she’d come to know.

From what she’d learned about him, Professor Laufeyson was anything but a womanizer. He had good looks, but she has never seen him interact with or entertain any female on campus unprofessionally - and they threw themselves at him in literal droves.

Well, until that night that is…

Evelyn wiped her eyes in frustration, as she tried to push Candice’s words to the back of her head. Sometimes she was helpful in her bits of advice, but today it felt extremely unneeded.

She opened up her laptop, intent on sucking herself into a black hole of memes and mindless entertainment to get her mind off things.

That was until a loud ping! notification flashed at the side of her screen.

It was from her outlook account, where she had set up her school email address. She had neglected to check it in the week she was absent due to a certain someone, and she regretted being so childish now. She probably missed out on a ton of important emails from her other professors, and Evelyn hoped there wasn’t anything urgent.

But when she logged in, she did not expect to see three unread emails from professor Laufeyson, the third sent to her inbox just yesterday.

Laufeyson, Loki                         Fri 4/12 TA position Evelyn, it was a very pleasant surp…

Laufeyson, Loki                        Thur 4/11 Office visitation: Please stop by at your earliest convenience

Good morning, I understand that due to certain circums…

Laufeyson, Loki                         Wed 4/10 Important: Regarding yesterday’s incident

It is imperative that we discuss…

Seeing three emails in a row from professor Laufeyson really knocked her for six. Whenever she had questions and decided to email him, he would never reply- only answering them when he saw her in person. She found it to be counter-productive, but never really dared to complain about it.

But considering the circumstances, she guessed it was understandable - he probably thought she would go around blabbing his business, so he took to damage control. Regardless, her heart started to race as she opened the email from earlier on in the week- opting to read them in order.

Laufeyson, Loki                         Wed 4/10 Important: Regarding yesterday’s incident

It is imperative that we discuss what transpired. Please visit my office at the earliest opportunity, around 11 am. I hope to see you tomorrow, and promptly.

Sincerely,

Loki Laufeyson

It was short and sweet, as Evelyn expected it to be. She suspected that even if she saw that email at the given time, she wouldn’t have budged from her bed in the slightest. Clicking out, she moved on to the next one.

Laufeyson, Loki                        Thur 4/11 Office visitation: Please stop by at your earliest convenience

Good morning,

I understand that due to certain circumstances, you are hesitant in discussing matters with me. I have much to make clear with you, in addition to making several apologies. I would like to discuss this in person, Evelyn. It is very… unbecoming, and I do not want this situation to compromise any academic priorities you may have. If you would feel more comfortable speaking over the phone rather than in person, I will attach my number. Please, I implore you to make good use of it.

Best,

Loki

Evelyn found this one to be much more sincere, to the point that she wanted to hop down to his office right away - even though it was the weekend. She once again mentally slapped herself for acting immaturely, instead of facing the situation like an adult. She could only sigh as she opened up the latest email, which she assumed was sent after he dropped her home.

Laufeyson, Loki                         Fri 4/12 TA position

Evelyn, it was a very pleasant surprise, although in a rather odd position, to see you at my office door. I shall once again apologize for startling you, as I was unaware that you were faint of heart. Despite that, I hope that I have managed to clear the air so that we can re-establish our relationship to its previous state. Although, I am aware that you may still be uncomfortable working together with me. We will discuss things once more if that is the case, so that we may come to a resolution regarding your grade.

If you would still like to retain this position, please attend my lecture this coming Monday - I am in need of assistance, and I would love for you to take this responsibility. I will also reiterate what I said yesterday evening. I value your presence, as you are one of my most favored students.

Have a lovely weekend,

Loki

At some point in reading that email, Evelyn’s heart had turned into a beating, mushy mess. He called her his favorite student, and Evelyn was practically mind-blown with this newfound information. She knew that he found her tolerable, more so than the other students in his class - but not to this extent.

Evelyn came to a decision. Although things might still be pretty awkward with this professor of hers, she’ll make an effort to get over it, and get back to how things were. He had even attached his private number to his email, something that she never thought he would share. 

They were both adults, so she’ll try to treat the situation as a minor embarrassment. She would attend the lecture on Monday and pretend like the entire thing never happened.

But little did Evelyn know… that things were forever changed between her and professor Laufeyson, and that they would never be the same again.

_________

A/N: Hey guys, please let me know what you thought, what you think will happen, etc! Things will be picking up next chappie, if you know what I mean. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I’ll try to get another chapter out before I leave for sleep-away camp for work on June 20th(No longer 15th, thank goodness), as I’m not sure about the internet reception there. I sincerely hope there is, since my contract ends on August 11th. I need to update! grrr! Thank you guys for reading, and I sincerely appreciate very comment. Like seriously, they make my day!