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creedslove · 8 months

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RE-ENCOUNTER 🎨

Marcus Pike x f!reader

"I'd rather get divorced while still loving you, than remaining together and risking to hate you"

Summary: you and Marcus had a brief but loving marriage, until it wasn't anymore. Choosing an amicable divorce you both moved on with your lives until destiny made you run into each other once more, with a difference this time: your ex-husband was engaged now

Warnings: mentions of divorce, a little bit of angst, fluff, some jealousy, age gap (their ages are not specified but he's 10 years older than her)

A/N: besties, I'm so happy I finally managed to write something for our husband Pike. I've always wanted to do so, but I knew I couldn't just force myself into it otherwise it wouldn't work properly, and just like that, this idea came up and I couldn't get it out of my mind ❤️ also, I know some people don't like age gap, but I can't imagine reader being Marcus age mostly because reader is me 🥴 and also because it would make sense to the story, so although it's not specified, I pictured them getting married around early 20s(reader) early 30s (Pike) and running into each other again around late 20s/early 30s (reader) and late 30s/early 40s (Pike)

3.9k words

You weren't fond of getting married young, to you, it sounded nothing like madness, as you simply couldn't wrap your head around the fact that people often abdicated from their lives, plans and dreams to get stuck in a relationship. It made no sense to you, especially since you had been working your ass off during all your years in college, the prospect of having a successful and promising career motivated you to go after your dreams. Relationships, marriages, building up families hadn't crossed your mind at all, a little affair with a cute guy here and there were the only things that ever got remotely close to dating, at the same time you only saw yourself as someone who wouldn't settle down.

And that was before Marcus Pike walked into your life.

If someone asked you to explain what exactly happened, perhaps you wouldn't be able to understand it yourself let alone explain it to someone, but that man swept you off your feet. You'd met him during a history of art lecture at campus one Thursday evening. He had just joined the FBI in the art department, fresh in his new job but still assisting his former professor and mentor in college lectures. He was probably ten or so years older than you, and yet, you couldn't keep your eyes off him. He was by far the most handsome man you'd seen in those four long years you'd spent in that institution, there was something so captivating in his beautiful eyes, his breathtaking smile and how smart and sweet he was towards anyone. And he caught you staring; it seemed you took his attention as much as he took yours, and even if you needed that lecture for extra credit, you couldn't give a single crap about medieval art, because that man was everything you could see in front of you. That was so unlike your personality, usually, you'd be focused on everything else, but you simply couldn't look away from that handsome assistant.

When the lecture was finally over, you were sure you'd missed at least half of it, being too busy concentrating on someone else instead of the subject, you still had a few doubts about the matter and you walked to the stage, willing to ask the professor some questions and clarify any doubts you had, and that was the moment you both locked eyes for the first time. The handsome guy that caught your attention, whose name was Marcus, soon found out the moment you shook hands and realized how big his was compared to yours and how truly handsome he was, even more so than you had already noticed when you were a few meters away. He was also mesmerized by you and he couldn't hide it, he knew you were younger than him, but at that moment all he could process was how gorgeous and smart that girl was in front of him. He kept around while you talked to his mentor, being polite enough not to interrupt him but holding himself back so he wouldn't add his own comments. He just wanted an excuse to talk to you, see if he could approach and see where things could go, so the moment he had the opportunity to be with you alone for a while, he immediately threw his charms - and Marcus was a charming guy - in your first conversation you liked how intelligent and nice he was, he made you laugh and when he invited you to have pancakes some dinner nearby the campus, you couldn't say no.

And that was the beginning of your love story.

Everything you believed went through the roof from the moment you met Marcus. He was incredible, the most fascinating man you'd met and whereas he was older than you, that only seemed to spice things up both in the sexual and emotional sense. You had never been treated like that before, he made you feel like a queen, as cheesy as it may sound, that's just how you felt through your relationship with Marcus. He was a gentleman, sweet and he didn't know what to do in order to please you; he went slowly at first, even if his intentions were clear from the very first time you went out to eat, he was a little afraid you would be weirded out by him, and he couldn't be further from the truth. Each time he took you out on a date, it felt like you were living the plot of any sweet but cliche rom com movie. It felt just too good to be true and a part of you feared that it wouldn't work. But it did, for as long as it lasted.

The dates with Marcus were so special, he was thoughtful and he always made sure to take you somewhere nice; it was either a nice restaurant so you could get to know their different menu, or art galleries in which he would show you his favorite works and tell you as much as you wanted to hear about them. He was always afraid of boring you with his subjects but on the contrary, you always enjoyed listening to him talk, it was entertaining, soothing and you could spend hours watching how his eyes sparkled whenever he addressed anything he truly enjoyed. And even if he put some effort into them, your favorite date by far was whenever you two would spend some time just hanging out together in his apartment. Dim lights, old movies on TV and Marcus' protective grip around your body, always pulling you closer and making sure you were warm in his embrace for the rest of the night.

The first kiss you shared with him after you both went to the movies together. It was a classic movie rerun and even if Casablanca wasn't your favorite, you knew he enjoyed it, and seeing it on a big screen was definitely a nice experience. Besides, he promised you that once Titanic hit the theaters in the next classic session, he would definitely take you.

At the end of the movie, you walked out the theater holding hands, you were silent, but instead of reflecting over the story you'd just watched you reflected over your relationship with Marcus; you were falling deeper and deeper for him, deeper and more intensely than you ever thought you would, and when he stopped and placed your hands on your hips you couldn't resist being kissed by him.

It felt right.

The first night you both spent together was right after he took you to see the concert of his former band; he'd left the band when he graduated from college, but he still remained friends with the guys and eventually enjoyed visiting them on stage. And that night he insisted on taking his bass for a last ride and even risked a song on the microphone, all of that for you.

By then, there was no fighting or convincing otherwise, you were head over heels for Marcus; especially when you two had sex for the first time after that. One could think Marcus is too soft, but not when it comes to that; he knows how to act, how to please and how to demand what he wants and after you tried him, a real man, there was no way you could go back to college boys ever again.

Your relationship evolved fast and in less than a year he proposed to you; he was sure you were what he wanted in the future, just as you had thrown away all your beliefs and you'd surrounded yourself completely to the man you loved, so you said yes. Even if your whole life you said you wouldn't get married, not while young at least, not without having a consistent, successful career.

And there you were, fresh out of college, with very little work experience, a job in an area you didn't want but had to take in order to gather experience and knowledge and walking down the aisle in a white dress, feeling as happy as you could be, in order to become Mrs.Pike. The honeymoon had to be in Paris, a few people told you that couldn't be more cliche, and even if they meant it out of spite or if they were actually right, it didn't really matter to you; it felt so right for the two of you. Surrounded by art constantly during the day and making love at night, it was like a dream coming true, and you remember hoping your entire marriage would be like that: light, fun, full of love and happiness. And it was until it wasn't anymore.

You couldn't tell exactly when things started to go downhill, but if you had to guess, it would probably be due to the lack of time you both faced towards the end of your relationship. It just started getting harder after about a year, when the two of you really began struggling for your own careers. You, in your area, and Marcus with the FBI, it seemed to have become an obsession for you both, as date nights, walks in the park and gallery visitations simply stopped happening in order to focus on your extra tasks, overtime, solving cases. At some point it became a looping of excuses and promises to spend more time together:

"We'll go next weekend honey"

"We can have dinner together tomorrow"

"I promise I'll take you with me next time"

Needless to say, they never truly happened.

Just as you two distanced yourselves without even realizing, the bickering also started, adding another venomous sting to your relationship. Suddenly, small things turned into bigger ones, sources of stress and fights; if someone ever told you one day you'd have heated arguments with Marcus over a dropped sock, or an unwashed plate on the sink, you would call them crazy, but when that unfortunately happened to the two of you, you were shocked for a while, not believing you had become the kind of couple to argue over stupid things like those. It was heartbreaking. As you two barely had time for each other, sex was also off the table most nights, being too tired to do anything else other than sleep, Marcus suddenly came up with the idea of having a baby; he had a deep hope of fixing your marriage by getting you pregnant, after all, having kids had always been part of his plan and he was sure it was part of yours too.

At the same time you hadn't really thought it through. Technically, you had. You wanted kids. At some point, in the future, it wasn't rocket science to figure that adding a baby to a troubled marriage could not be the best idea. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to tell him that, not when you saw the spike of excitement in his eyes, not when he held you and kissed you like in the beginning of your relationship, how he made time for you even if his FBI work was killing him, he still managed to bring you flowers, kiss you and made love to you. Perhaps he was trying to save your marriage, or he was just trying for the baby, you weren't so sure, but you could see the effort. And it was why it broke your heart to know you couldn't get pregnant at that moment, not with your job finally taking you places, the new opportunity of actually building a career and how young you still thought you were, being married was hard, but it was about you and Marcus, two adults who could handle yourselves but a baby? It was way too much responsibility. You couldn't find a way to tell him that, even if you were being a coward, it pained you you felt so hopeless to simply lie to Marcus and tell him you'd stopped taking your birth control pills, and even more so each time he looked at you with those disappointed, sad eyes, month after month of excitement and longing for that baby to be there, just to get a negative test after another. It was eating you up alive and after his insistence on taking you to a doctor - which you immediately refused - he managed to find your hidden stash of pills among your stuff. You tried explaining everything to him; how you weren't ready, you were scared and how broken you'd been at seeing him so upset. You cried, you opened your heart to Marcus and told him you wanted to be a mom to his child, some day, not at that moment, but in the future because things were finally working for the two of you once more. But you had lied to your husband, and lying to Marcus had no turning back.

He had no other option other than asking for a divorce after you lied and broke his heart, he felt upset, he could've forgiven you for many things, but not for playing with his heart when it came to the kids he dreamed of every single day.

You were tired, upset and at some point during your divorce process you'd convinced yourself you didn't love him anymore, but the reality was that you were just so empty you weren't able to feel things, you were numb.

The day you both signed the divorce papers in front of your lawyer and you were questioned whether you two wanted to go ahead with that decision, your heart shattered into a million pieces, more than any fights, when you heard Marcus' justification to why he was asking for the divorce.

"I'd rather get divorced while still loving you, than remaining together and risking to hate you"

When you heard those words, you had a sudden urge to get up and tear those papers into pieces, tell him you were both making a huge mistake, that toyover him and that you could make it work, you wanted to tell him you still had a beautiful future ahead of you, you and the gorgeous family you would have together. And the moment you took a deep breath to finally say all that out loud, you looked at Marcus signing the papers and officializing the divorce.

That was the last time you saw your ex-husband Marcus Pike, you just had no idea the next time you would run into him again would be in a few years later, while he was taking his new fiancee on a date.

•••

Marcus sighed as he could see the lack of excitement in Teresa's face the moment they got to the exhibit, he just didn't know why she agreed to go out with him if she didn't like it, it would be so much easier for the two of them if she was honest and told him she'd rather stay home and read a magazine, that way they would both be happy, and Marcus wouldn't have the feeling he was trying too hard all the time. Teresa liked him, she must have liked him, otherwise she wouldn't have accepted his proposal and moved to DC with him. It was still early, she'd been there for a few weeks but he was confident things would work. He was hitting his forties now, one divorce, no kids and even if he finally got the position he had not only dreamed of but also worked so hard for in his dream job, he still felt something was missing. It took him a failed marriage to realize that money wasn't everything he needed, he simply missed the family he never had.

When he found Teresa he was still trying to pick the pieces of his heart, still trying to make things work on his own and when he saw her - an attractive, mature and intelligent woman, he thought that maybe he wouldn't be alone this time. You'd been the love of his life, he was convinced of that, but you two had gone way too fast and too intense, you were still young, you had so much to live so it made sense to him he would let you go and be free. He vowed himself not to rush into things, but this time it wasn't his choice, he was liking Teresa more and more and even if they weren't compatible most of the time, but when the opportunity of a lifetime came up he had to take his chances and she'd said yes. Still a little unsure and divided between him and Jane, but she said yes.

As they walked through the exhibit, he paid close attention to all the beautiful paintings scattered around the long hallways. He loved that atmosphere, the pictures so beautifully made by talented hands years or sometimes centuries ago.

"So it's just flowers?!" Teresa broke the silence as she looked around unimpressed and dragged his attention back to reality

"It's not just flowers, it's Monet… don't you like it? You told me you liked his paintings on our first date.." Marcus stated confused until the realization that she was just lying so she wouldn't appear ignorant or perhaps try to impress him a little. He saw how she cleared her throat and tried fixing what she just said but he stopped listening the moment he caught a glimpse of someone else crossing the same room and standing next to Rouen Cathedral, admiring it intently. He didn't even need to look twice to know it was you. You, who always loved that painting, even if it wasn't Monet's best in your ex-husband's opinion, you who had a fascination with old constructions such as cathedrals and would always snap several pictures of them, you, who was never exceptional at art but managed to get by and eventually fell more and more in love with art because of Marcus, not because you wanted to impress him or have him thinking you were smart, but because he actually made you see why he had that passion for it. And the moment that you turned around, his heart skipped a beat.

You looked the same, and yet, you also managed to look even more beautiful; more mature, more confident in yourself and for a brief moment Marcus was frozen in time, it was just like the first time he saw you, in which he could only see you in front of him and nothing else. He had no idea you still had that effect on him, it was so unusual and surprising and even if he had stalked your social media profiles here and there over the course of your separation, even if he wasn't proud of it, it was completely different than seeing you right there in front of him. He wasn't sure what to do, should he approach you? Talk to you? Pretend he didn't see you?

However, he didn't time to think any further about it, not when you turned around and spotted him, your eyes widening at the moment you saw him. Much to your surprise your heart also raced at the sight of your ex-husband. Was it your mind playing tricks or was he even more handsome? You hadn't planned on approaching him, but you felt as if you were being taken involuntarily towards him.

"Marcus?! Hi!" You said with a sweet smile as he politely greeted you, expressing how surprised he was to see you and even more so to actually talk to you

"Wow, you look great… So beautiful" he smiled as you blushed softly and giggled

"You too, still very handsome… so what brings you to D-" you interrupted by a woman who walked in and wrapped her arm around his waist. She eyed you up and down, even if she still tried to be polite and discreet about it. You swallowed hard feeling awkward and Marcus turned to the other woman

"This is Teresa, my fiancee and this is my ex-wife" he cleared his throat as he said your name and Teresa simply nodded her head. You returned the gesture and the moment you meant to ask him a question she barged in

"You're his ex-wife? But you're so young…" you could see the light pink spreading through his cheek and groaned at how dumb she really was.

"Yeah, I'm younger than him… and are you a little older than Marcus?" You returned the sting with the same amount of poison and she scoffed, looking at him and groaned

"I'll go to the restroom" she said without looking into your eyes and walked away, making you chuckle as Marcus shot you a questioning look which you just shrugged and went back to the question that was lingering on your mind

"So, what are you doing here in DC? Having a romantic getaway or vacations?"

"Actually, I've moved here after I was promoted to the head of the new art department" he said with his typical smile and you could see how his eyes crinkled, your heart warming up as you expressed genuine surprise and happiness to know that. You were a witness to how hard he had worked for that and it just filled your heart with pride to know he made it. You weren't sure how to act, perhaps it wasn't right, but you had already wrapped your arms around his neck and given him probably the tightest hug you'd ever done. Even if it was brief, you couldn't help but feel how built up he was, how stronger he'd become and his characteristic scent made you so warm on the inside, it felt like you could've stayed forever in his embrace.

"I'm so happy for you, Marcus! Honestly, you deserve it! I know I haven't been the most supportive wife and I'm very sorry about everything that happened, I should've been nicer to you, but well, all I'm trying to say is that I'm so proud of you!"

You said wholeheartedly and even if there were so many other things you needed to tell him, you knew it wasn't the right time and place. He just smiled and nodded, taking your hands into his big ones and thanking you for the support.

"Do you think we could grab a coffee or something? Just catch up?"

"I'd love to, but I don't know if it's a good idea, I mean, I can tell Teresa isn't my biggest fan and being honest with you, I wouldn't like my fiance's ex-wife around very much, but it's amazing to see you Marcus, truly, it makes me glad to know you are somewhat closer" you smiled again but let go of his hands the moment Teresa returned. Once more she just lingered around him, almost territorial as if she wanted to show you who owned Marcus. He also felt that, and it made him quite uncomfortable, so he cleared his throat and looked at you, saying goodbye and explaining they had dinner reservations.

As you watched them both leave, you felt a pang in your chest, thinking of the wonderful place he was probably taking her, the elaborate dates he had planned, the beautiful family they would probably build together. It could've been you, it was you for a while, unlike he might have thought you wanted all that with him, but it took you a divorce to realize it was a situation of the right person, wrong time. Perhaps if you tried again, it would work, you would like it to work, but Marcus had moved on, found himself someone he cared about and you had no right to break his heart and ruin his happiness once more.

____

A/N: my besties, I really hope you enjoyed it! I don't know if this is just a one-shot or if there'll be a continuation but I am so happy how this turned out. I love Marcus and I'm so happy our handsome FBI boyfriend finally got his own piece here! ❤️ remember that feedback is life, I'd love to hear what you all thought of it ❤️

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagine #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x y/n #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike one shot

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gabessquishytum · 4 months

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So ive had a brain worm thats had me knawing at the bars of my cage foamed at the mouth and i thought you'd appreciate it

I've been obsessed with the concept of knot fucking and yknow i feel hob deserves to be fucked by a fat unyielding knot

Clutching onto the sheets for dear life while Dream grunt fucks his massive knot in and out of hobs poor abused little snatch, pining him down by the backs of his thighs so he's folded in half and helpless to do nothing else but take it

Just absolutely slack jawed over it, eyes rolling up into his head and drooling how fucked stupid he is over it, his poor overworked cunt wet and loud, squirting pathetically everytime dream pulls his knot free from his greedy gripping pussy and squelching loudly every time he shoves back in

By the end of it the bed is wet underneath him and dream has fucked hob open so thoroughly that he can only squeeze weakly at the knot locking him, all the copious cum dream has pumped him with frothy and dripping obscenely around the edges of the knot

Tbh was definitely thinking about sugar daddy salt and pepper alpha dream absolutely ruining gorgeous sugar baby beta/omega hob's holes for anyone else and like with just a dash of a breeding kink

Absolutely foaming at the mouth for this tbh.

Hob has never even shared a heat with anyone, bless him. But he met this gorgeous older alpha at one of the university bars, and quickly discovered that Dream was a professor in the art department (Hob is studying history so their paths haven't crossed before). He also discovers that Dream is suave, irresistible, and has a knot bigger than Hob’s whole hand.

Hob had already cum three or four times before he got a knot in him. Dream made the foreplay so good that Hob was shaking before he even got fucked. Dream basically sucked the slick out of him and made sure he was absolutely dripping, and then he spent what felt like hours just rubbing his cock against Hob’s hole. Not going in, just teasing him until he begged for it. And oh, Hob was so happy to beg.

Dream fucked him so good, he really did. But when Hob thought it was over - when the alpha came inside him and the knot swelled into place - Dream didn't stop. He kept fucking Hob, slower now but still firm and dominant. Nudging his knot in and out while Hob gasped, squealed and orgasmed over and over like he just couldn't stop. If he looked down between his legs he could see the cum slopping in and out of his cunt, and every time he thought about how that cum could so easily knock him up, he felt himself clench tighter and squirt all over the alpha's knot. And Dream would tell him what a good boy he was being.

Now Hob lies in the middle of the bed while Dream tenderly changes the sheets around him, occasionally leaning in between Hob’s spread legs to kiss him pink, overworked hole. It's the first time, but it won't be the last. Hob definitely isn't going to walk away from this kind of pleasure.

And he should probably find a moment to mention that he's not on birth control. But from the way Dream kept pushing his cum back into Hob’s cunt and murmuring about keeping him full and bred, he thinks that the alpha probably won't mind...

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw omegaverse #cw age gap

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flowerandblood · 8 months

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Glass Cuts Deepest (11)

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, fingering, smut, kissing, fluff, angst, trauma, mention of rape, indecent student-teacher relationship ]

[ description: A female painting student is finally able to choose the specialisation she has dreamt of - stained glass. She wants to become a student of the best specialist in this field, but he, for some reason, refuses to accept female students into his workshop. She finds out that he once slapped a female student of one of the other professors. Nevertheless, she makes an attempt to find out what happened then and to convince him to teach her. Slow burn, sexual tension, dark, agressive Aemond, great childhood traumas. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She slept the whole way back to their town in the back seat of the car, exhausted after the all-night vigil and what had happened. Despite how frightening it had been and how much she had suffered seeing him like this, she had regained hope in the morning, seeing him cuddled up to her, sleeping peacefully at last.

He trusted her.

He sought refuge in her when he was most vulnerable.

They decided to exchange phone numbers to keep in touch, and the first day she spent back in her dormitory seemed strange to her. Sitting in her room in the evening, preparing for the exam in Renaissance art history that awaited her in a few days, she had the feeling that he was about to knock on her door.

However, nothing of that sort happened.

Neither of them wrote to each other that night, apparently afraid to impose on each other, recognising that they both needed to sort it all out in their heads.

She kept waking up and curling up in her bed, so in the morning she gave in, deciding that she would go to the workshop earlier and try to study there, hoping to meet him inside. She went into the bathroom to change before going in, then started down the corridor towards their classrooms and was surprised to find that the lights were already on in them.

When she looked inside she met his puzzled, horrified gaze − he was just leaning over a sheet of glass from which he was cutting out parts for his own project. They stared at each other for a moment in awkward silence, she felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest.

She couldn't stop thinking about how good he looked in his black, tight t-shirt tucked into his trousers, accentuating his athletic figure perfectly.

She thought with tenderness that they were dressed alike.

"Good morning." She said softly, recognising that she should speak up, and felt her chest heat when she saw that his lips twitched in a smile, his gaze softening. He grunted quietly, scratching his cheek with his thumb, pretending he felt nothing at the sight of her.

"Good morning." He replied lowly, watching as she moved to the last table, where she always worked.

"− you don't have to − you know −" He said casually, clearly feeling bad about the fact that all this time he had been wordlessly forcing her to always stay back. Only now did she see that he was working at his table positioned so that he could see her.

"We were supposed to behave as we did before." She reminded him calmly, looking at him warmly from afar, slipping her backpack off and placing it on one of the wooden stools standing next to her. "Is it clear yet what new task our workshop will be handling?"

He nodded, trying not to look at her, but he was clearly at a loss with himself, glancing at her from time to time, his lips tightening.

"− yes − yes, you as students will be helping me with another big project, you'll do the side quarters and backgrounds. When everyone gathers, I will show you my design and divide up everyone's tasks." He said calmly, glancing at her again with some kind of desire and distress. She let the air out through her nose and held out her hand to him.

Their class was only starting in an hour.

"Come now, while no one else is here." She said softly, and he immediately moved towards her, as if he was just waiting for those words.

Without even touching her hand, he grasped her cheeks and pressed himself to her mouth, kissing her greedily, longingly and tenderly, teasing her lips with his, brushing the tip of his tongue against hers.

She slid her hand into his hair and heard him murmur softly as she drew him closer to her, reciprocating his kiss with devotion, delighting in the softness and moistness of his mouth, the taste of his saliva on her tongue, his hands roaming over her cheeks, her neck, her back, as if he wanted to touch her everywhere, to enjoy this momentary closeness.

They kissed like mad, like lovers who met in seclusion for a few minutes once in a couple of days, just to taste their closeness, hiding from the whole world. She sighed into his mouth as he pulled away from her and pressed her forehead to his, clamping his hand on her back, forcing her to cling to his body, to feel what was happening in his trousers.

He was completely hard.

"I've been suffering like this since the moment you walked into this room." He exhaled, rubbing his hips against her, his lips brushing hers teasingly, barely touching her fleshy structure. She shuddered all over at his words, feeling the delightful squeeze between her thighs, moisture running down her skin.

"I'm sorry, Professor." She whispered softly, innocently, running her lower lip over his mouth, and he bit her lightly, drawing a quiet moan of surprise from her.

"− I can't − come to my place tonight − I need you by my side −" He muttered in a voice trembling with arousal, she felt his manhood throbbing hard, the tip of his nose trailing along her cheek.

"− I have to study for an exam −" She mumbled out, combing her fingers through his hair, feeling her head spin from his scent, from the movement of his hips rubbing against her.

He kissed her cheek, leaving a wet, warm trail on her skin.

"− when we're done, I'll let you learn − I promise −" He whispered and she felt herself shudder at his words, his tongue invading between her lips again, as if he couldn't stand it, as if the very thought of her lying beside him at night made him lose his temper.

When we're done, I'll let you learn.

God.

How was she supposed to stand up to him.

"− okay −" Was all she was able to get out of herself between their loud, quick, impatient kisses, his arms holding her in a tight embrace. He finally pulled away from her, breathing hard, trailing his fingers along the skin of her neck.

"I'll pick you up." He muttered, but she shook her head.

"No, I'll order an Uber or a taxi." She said calmly, placing her hands on his chest and saw him furrow his brow. "Someone might see us. Like right now."

He swallowed loudly and nodded, reminding himself of the promise he'd made to her.

He had promised her that he would protect her.

He let her go and grunted, standing with his hands folded in front of him as if he wanted to cover up what was going on in his trousers. He looked away, licking his lips with his tongue on which he could certainly still taste her saliva and her flesh.

"I'll write you my address in a message. Okay?" He asked matter-of-factly, trying to get back to his role, and she smiled and nodded.

She wanted this.

She wanted to be there for him.

He went back to his work, and she sat on a stool at her table, sinking into her art history notes, trying to concentrate, hearing the swish and clink of glass being cut and broken in the background.

She smiled as one by one her colleagues began to come inside, Ned and Royce approached her curiously, wanting to draw out of her what the final result of their work looked like. They stood behind her as she opened the photo on her phone for them and zoomed in on the details so they could see the whole thing.

"Wow. Amazing. Will you send me that photo? I want to show it off to my mum." Ned grinned and she nodded, proud of how it all looked recognising that they all had done a great job.

She talked to them for a while longer, trying not to laugh seeing how her professor was trying not to glance in their direction with the last of his strong will − she could see that his lips were tightened, that he was jealous, that he was angry that he himself could not come up to her and talk to her so lightly when he wanted nothing else now.

When everyone had gathered, he ordered a meeting in the room with the big table where they had sat during their first classes, which was a kind of meeting room. The professor and Cregan always sat at the top of the table, having a erasable whiteboard next to them on which they wrote things down − their professor now did exactly the same, taking a dry erase marker and starting to write, speaking at the same time.

"The next project we will be tackling will be stained glass windows consisting of five large panels, where the middle one is the largest of all. The client has requested, given that it is a church named after St Michael the Archangel, that all the quatrefoils depict a huge Last Judgement with a representation of Michael the Archangel at the very centre, referring to Hans Memling's painterly depiction.

However, as you know, Memling's work is a triptych, and we have five windows. So I decided that we would simply expand the whole scene, in addition to people entering hell and heaven by introducing figures of saints and famous people considered condemned. It's going to be a very complicated, big project and I assume we'll be working on it for this, and all of next semester. Perhaps longer." He said, writing everything down on the board, and she took notes, knowing exactly the painting he was talking about, imagining with excitement how wonderful it will have to look when they are done.

"There will be plenty of work to do, as well as figures to make, so it will be a chance for everyone to test themselves in this type of painting, including the second year. In the next class, we will gather in the studio and together with Cregan show what painting techniques we use to create faces and bodies and how to avoid basic mistakes. This lecture will be compulsory for second year students only, if a third or fourth year feels like coming, they can do so too." He said in a calm, low voice, scratching his forehead thoughtfully as to whether he had said everything he wanted to talk about, then glanced at her and stammered, completely losing his thread.

"− yes − well, I think that's it, if I remember anything I'll let you know. The project is already prepared by me at 1:1 scale, you just need to cut it up, Cregan will distribute to you the tasks and figures you will work on. We are both available to you if you have any questions." He muttered, embarrassed that he wasn't able to concentrate around her, but she felt nothing but admiration towards him, seeing how committed he was, how much of his time and effort he was putting into making them good specialists and artists, to really educate them.

She thought with sadness that he really was a good teacher.

That if it wasn't for the trauma that was destroying him from the inside, he would have been adored by everyone.

She spent the whole day with the others cutting out and numbering stencils for the glass − Cregan had assigned her as many as four small celestial figures and part of a background, which pleased her a lot, because she felt that she wanted to try more already, to paint more complicated things.

She noted with satisfaction that she and her colleagues had tasks of similar difficulty and felt relieved that what she thought was working.

He didn't single her out or make anything easier for her.

She worked exactly as others did.

When she finished her work she packed up, hurried along with her colleagues to other classes and threw everyone only a quick goodbye, meeting his gaze on the way, smiling involuntarily at him and leaving.

She thought hopefully that this could work.

That if they focused on their job and left the tenderness for the time when they were just alone with each other, then maybe no one would ever know about it.

As soon as she left she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and saw that she had received a message from him. She typed him in as Adam, so that no one looking over her shoulder would catch on to who she was texting.

She smiled under her breath as she looked at her phone, Ned poked her with his elbow, looking at her amused.

"A date?" He asked provocatively, and she giggled, pushing him away from her with a hooked, collegiate gesture.

"None of your business."

When she returned to her dorm room she immediately ran to take a shower, changed her clothes and packed all the things she needed in her backpack.

She figured that since she wasn't coming to his class she could dress normally, so she put on her light cream dress, white high socks and trainers and quickly found some free Uber on her app. She felt the vibrations again, and after a while she saw his message in her notifications.

She smiled, walking out in front of the building, all warm with emotion, writing him off quickly.

After a while her driver pulled up, she greeted him politely and they set off. He lived fifteen minutes away from her dorm, so it wasn't a long journey. She approached the right entrance staircase and dialled the correct number with a trembling hand.

A moment later, she heard the sound of confirmation and the vibration of the door lock indicating that she could get inside. She literally ran up to his floor and knocked quietly, standing outside his door excitedly.

She heard footsteps and the sound of the lock being turned, then a moment later the door opened and she saw her professor, at once pale and excited, looking at her as if she were some kind of ghost.

He invited her in by simply stepping back and allowing her to enter, closing the door behind her, not saying a word to her. She bent down to untie her trainers and pulled them off, clutching her backpack in her hands, looking at him questioningly, not knowing what to do with herself.

She saw that he was looking at her dress with big eyes and realised that, apart from the evenings during which she was only in her pyjamas, he hadn't seen her in the clothes she usually wore every day. She blinked, frightened that perhaps that woman was wearing dresses, that perhaps it reminded him of something from that event.

"If there's something wrong, I'll change. I took my things." She said quickly, concernedly pointing to her backpack. He furrowed his eyebrows, lifting his gaze to her, looking at her as if he didn't understand her question.

"What? No, no. Come in. Are you hungry? I'm just heating up dinner." He said, scratching his temple with his finger, stepping around her, not even looking at her.

She followed him inside, heading down the corridor to a sizable living room with a kitchenette on the right, the room's windows overlooking a nice panoramic view of the city. She saw that he had the oven on and was just baking duck legs in some sort of sauce.

She felt a burbling in her stomach; she hadn't eaten anything since the morning, and had only popped into her room for a moment. She put her backpack next to his couch, not knowing what to do with it.

"Yeah, I'd love to." She said softly, following him into the kitchen, folding her arms in front of her, embarrassed, looking around, feeling her heart pounding hard.

His flat was full of old furniture and antiques, and she noticed three bookcases standing between the windows filled to the brim with books she was going to look at later. She heard the clatter of plates and saw that he had placed them on the kitchen counter, which also had the function of a two-sided table and bar.

He scratched his chin with his thumb as if he didn't know if he should ask the question.

"Would you like wine with dinner? Or orange juice?" He asked, and she swallowed loudly, recognising that alcohol could only harm her now and tangle her tongue. She sat down opposite him in a high chair, adjusting her dress.

"I'll have a juice, please." She said warmly, smiling, and he nodded, tense, pulling a carton of orange juice from the cupboard.

She wondered if he had ever invited a woman here.

Had he invited anyone here.

She was invading his space at his request but he clearly didn't know how he felt about it himself.

She decided to broach the subject that seemed safest to her and thought it would loosen him up.

"I'm looking forward to the workshop tomorrow. I really want to finally be able to paint figures, I've been waiting for it a lot." She said sincerely, looking at his reaction. He glanced at her curiously and hummed under his breath, pouring her juice into a glass.

"Well, it can be frustrating at first and the results can be unsatisfactory, but it's a matter of practice and using the tools properly." He said calmly, looking at her again, and she nodded.

He lowered his gaze, looking away from her again, acknowledging that the meat was ready. When he opened the oven hot steam flew out of it, so she walked over to help him.

They put food on each other's plates and started to eat in silence.

She tried not to smile or laugh seeing how tense he was, how much he was going through this knowing that he didn't find it funny, but she couldn't help thinking that they really were acting like embarrassed teenagers.

"Where am I going to sleep?" She asked suddenly between one bite and the other, and he almost choked, looking at her in shock, tightening his lips, thinking hard about what he should answer.

"…it's up to you. I can sleep on the couch." He said cautiously after a moment's thought, as if he was afraid to say what he'd been thinking about all along, and what was surely in both of their minds.

"What if I don't want you to sleep on the couch?" She asked quietly, putting down her fork − he reached involuntarily for his wine glass to take a loud sip from it, trying to give himself more time to react.

He didn't answer but just stared at her and it was the most intense gaze she had ever seen in her life. He was biting his lower lip, breathing anxiously, as if he realised that they were both pretending to play a game of politeness by feigning a simple casual meeting.

She thought for sure he had contrived that afterwards they would act like they were watching something or talking about anything, and by complete coincidence his mouth would suddenly be on hers and his hand in her underwear, and then he would accidentally bring her to fulfilment without listening to what the characters in the show he had turned on were saying.

She saw it in the look in his eyes and decided to take pity on him.

Over him and over herself.

"Will you show me your bedroom?" She asked softly, lightly, as if asking him to show her his living room or office, nothing obliging. His pupil dilated and he took a deep breath, his hand outstretched on the tabletop clenched into a fist.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asked lowly, looking at her all the time − she felt a powerful shudder and pulsation between her thighs at his question, dark, ambiguous, final.

She nodded, and he swallowed loudly, glancing at the whole of her silhouette which he could see over the table before he hummed and stood up, waiting for her to follow him.

She moved with him through the corridor to one of the closed rooms. He stepped inside and switched on a lamp − the warm light illuminated a large double bed with dark, fresh linen, a night table and a huge black wardrobe with a mirror in one of the sliding doors, standing on the opposite side against the wall.

She swallowed quietly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, meeting his gaze. He stood a few steps away from her, watching her every move.

He watched her as, with a quiet, unhurried step, she approached his bed and lay down on his bedding, smelling the pleasant scent of washing powder. She lay on her stomach, not looking at him, cuddling her cheek into one of his pillows, looking at the lamp standing on the small table beside him.

She heard him move and came closer, felt the mattress bend soundlessly under his weight. She shuddered and drew in a loud breath as she felt him lift the material of her dress, exposing her buttocks. She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed quietly as his large hand carefully touched one of them, tracing his fingers over her warm skin.

She felt him move further away after a moment, placing his hands on either side of her head, one of them gently taking her hair, and after a moment his warm lips were on her neck, placing a soft, wet kiss on her skin.

She clasped her hands together on the bedclothes when she felt one of his hands slip under her stomach, then he pressed her with his body from above so that she could not move − she felt his hard manhood hidden in his trousers impatiently pulsate as he felt her naked buttocks beneath him.

Involuntarily her breathing quickened, the space between her thighs clenched desperately as his fingers slid lower under her belly, pulling up the material of her dress, finally finding what he wanted under her underwear.

He shushed her when she moaned softly, his fingers with sure, steady movements spreading her wetness around her puffy clit, barely teasing it, his lips rising to her cheek, his breathing shuddering and uneven.

"− have you been this wet since you came in here? − or maybe since this morning? −" He hummed, trailing his lips over her soft skin − she involuntarily rubbed her buttocks against his manhood, licking her lips.

"− it's your fault, Professor −" She mumbled out with difficulty, feeling arousal and a shudder at the use of his academic title in such a situation, in such a context. She heard him groan in surprise, his length rubbing against her buttocks, impatient and swollen.

"− mine? − because I take care of my student's needs like any good Professor in my position? −" He asked tauntingly, enveloping her ear with his warm breath, his words resounding like a murmur.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hearing with shame that what he was saying was making his movements of his fingers accompanied by an increasingly loud click of her moisture, involuntarily she began to quietly moan and pant, clasping her hands on his pillow.

They both sighed quietly as she opened her legs slightly, making it easier for his fingers to move wider, the tips of his fingers digging into her sensitive, slick folds.

"− I need this − please −" She mumbled out, moaning along with him, his hips moving with her, pressing his manhood between her buttocks − she could feel how hard he was, that his control over what was happening had completely relaxed him.

"− I know −" He breathed out and she gasped in surprise, feeling a powerful shiver of pleasure as the tip of his finger slid between her fleshy, throbbing walls.

"− shhh −" He hushed her, not letting her move even though she needed it so badly, needed to feel him deeper, harder.

"− please − ah − please − please −" She mewled, no longer able to form any meaningful sentences, feeling like she was going mad with arousal, her core throbbing all over in painful tension and anticipation.

"− please, what? − don't be disrespectful, title me properly −" He grunted warningly, biting her skin lightly, his finger barely teasing her entrance, sliding in and out, massaging her around her clit again, driving her insane.

"− please, Professor − please, I've been waiting for this all day −" She confessed with shame, and he chuckled at her words, finally sliding his finger all the way inside her hot core, panting along with her. She cried out loudly, pressing her face against the pillow, feeling that she was on the verge of orgasm.

"− soaking wet for her Professor − fuck − you're a very dedicated student, aren't you? −" He whispered into her ear, with a quick, sure movement sliding his finger in and out of her, the loud click of her sticky moisture accompanied his every move, he deliberately pressed the top wall above her entrance, searching for her hidden spot.

"− yes − God − yes, yes, please! −" She cried out when he finally found what he was looking for − he groaned loudly when he felt her come all over his hand after squeezing this spot a few times, panting all over, squeezing him from all sides, her moisture beginning to run down over his fingers.

"− fuck − what a little mess you are −" He purred, kissing her cheek tenderly, fucking her with his fingers through her peak, ignoring her moans from overstimulation.

"− don't move − okay? −" He asked, panting loudly, himself on the brink of orgasm, and she nodded, seeing or hearing very little, stunned by the pleasure her fulfilment gave her.

She heard him rise up on his knees, unbuttoning his trousers, jerking himself off with quick, sure strokes, moaning helplessly. She swallowed loudly, ashamed of what she was thinking about, what she wanted.

She wanted to give him the opportunity to break through, to experience her closeness.

"Can I kiss you there?" She asked quietly, in a trembling uncertain voice, and heard him freeze suddenly, breathing unevenly, not believing what he was hearing.

"What?"

"You could lie on your back and massage yourself, and I would kiss you there. I wouldn't touch you with my hands, just my lips and tongue. I've never done that before, so it would be our first time." She whispered, not daring to look at him, fiddling with the fabric of the pillow on which her head just lay.

She heard him swallow loudly, shocked.

"− I − God − I don't know − I wouldn't want to hurt you − force you to do things like that, humiliate you −" He muttered obviously horrified by this vision, and she shook her head quickly feeling her heart pounding hard.

"− I want to try it − I'll tell you if it feels uncomfortable and you can do exactly the same − you don't feel bad when I kiss you, just when I touch you with my hands − I thought maybe this is our way to your fulfilment together −" She explained and a long silence full of tension answered her.

"−… will you tell me if there is something wrong? −" He asked in a trembling voice and she nodded quickly.

He swallowed loudly and laid down on his back beside her, looking at her terrified, his trousers unbuttoned but he hid his manhood in his boxers, ashamed. He stared at her frozen, seeing her rise slowly and shift on her knees, laying on her stomach between his thighs, not even touching him.

She lifted her feet, wiggling her calves in a light gesture of anticipation, resting on her elbows, looking at him with warm, understanding eyes.

"So?" She asked softly, seeing that he was terrified because of many things at once − she watched him carefully and saw no sign of a panic attack so far.

He licked his lips in a nervous gesture, looking at her helplessly, wanting this and fearing another disappointment.

"If it goes wrong − what do I say?" He asked in a weak, trembling voice, breathing unevenly. She looked at him with understanding, knowing that she would have to be very careful and very slow with any movements or gestures.

"− say slower if you feel it's right but things are happening too fast, or faster if it's too slow. If you feel bad say stop and I'll pull away immediately −" She said what she thought made the most sense, wanting him to still have a total sense of control.

"− and if I − you know −" He muttered, and she pressed her lips together at the thought that he was afraid he'd cum inside her mouth.

"− well − Eve was the first to taste the forbidden fruit, wasn't she? −" She asked softly and he swallowed loudly, looking down at her with big eyes − she saw his manhood pulsed hard under the black material of his boxers. She lifted her gaze to him, seeing that he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"− touch yourself as you always do and just say if what I'm going to do makes you uncomfortable − remember this is time for you and your pleasure −" She assured him with warmth in her voice, something in her words calmed him because he let out a loud breath.

He tilted his head back, closing his eyes, his trembling hand went under the material of his boxers, pushing them back a little, squeezing firmly on what was under them.

She pressed her lips together seeing that God did not skimp on his size, his length pulsed all over, swollen and hard − she could see veins showing through from under his skin, the tip of it pink and sticky from his own moisture.

She heard him sigh as he began to stroke himself, clearly like her waiting all day to relieve himself. He groaned and gasped as she leaned towards him and merely brushed his long manhood with her lips.

She lifted her gaze to his face and saw that he was looking at her aroused and surprised, not stopping to massage himself, apparently amazed that it was pleasant after all.

Encouraged by the lack of expression of discomfort or pain on his face, she leaned in again, this time adding the tip of her tongue to her lips and ran it upwards, teasing him − he smelled fresh and soapy, she thought he had showered before she came.

"− fuck −" He muttered, tilting his head back, panting heavily, jerking himself with increasing speed.

She kissed him more and more confidently, wanting to prepare him for what she was about to do, rising higher and higher until she reached the very tip of him.

As she parted her mouth and slid the fat head of his cock between her lips, teasing him with the tip of her tongue, she heard him gasp loudly, an involuntary movement of her hips sliding it deeper into her throat.

"− oh, God − please −" He mumbled out with increasingly ragged, loud breaths, his free hand went to her hair, holding her close. She felt her walls clench around nothing from his reaction, her heart pounding like mad.

He was enjoying this.

Encouraged by his reactions and the fact that she herself felt no discomfort, she slipped it deep into her mouth and began to suck his cock with a loud click of her saliva as, at the same time, his hand massaged it with quick, sure movements at the base.

"− faster − ah, fuck, squeeze me here −" He exhaled, gripping her hand in his, clenching it with his fingers where her mouth couldn't reach. She began to stroke him, squeezing him with firm, light movements − he sobbed loudly, pulsing hard in her mouth, the thrusts of his hips pushing his cock deep into her throat, making her gag.

"− forgive me − fuck, 'm gonna cum −" He mumbled out with difficulty and groaned loudly in relief. She felt something salty, viscous and sticky spill into her mouth and swallowed it with difficulty, breathing loudly through her nose as she felt his manhood pulsing hard and quivering between her lips, delicate and hypersensitive.

"− fuck − fuck, baby − oh my God −" He panted quietly, lying with his head tilted back, his lips parted, his eyes closed in blissful relief from pleasure.

His hand let go of hers so she immediately took it from his manhood and slid him out of her mouth, not wanting to overdo it, knowing that what had happened was groundbreaking for both of them.

He opened his eyes lazily, looking down at her at last, licking his lips dried from exertion.

"− you are indeed my revelation −" He whispered and smiled shyly, boyishly, happy.

It had worked.

He grasped the material of her dress with his hand and drew her to him, embracing her on with his arms − she snuggled into his chest, placing her hands where he let her.

"Are you okay?" He whispered and she nodded quickly, snuggling closer to him, listening to the rapid beat of his heart as he played with her hair between his fingers, stroking her head.

"− move in with me −" He whispered, and she froze, not believing he had said it.

They had been together, if she could even call it that, for three days, and he was propositioning her to move in with him.

"− I know it's too soon, I know, but − yesterday when I was lying here without you − I don't know − I'm not sure I'll ever be able to sleep peacefully without you by my side again − I have one room that is my gym, but it could be yours −" He spoke quickly, clearly embarrassed by his own proposal, afraid of what she would respond to it.

She swallowed loudly, thinking strenuously.

"− I think I wouldn't want to give up my room for now − however, if you want, I can keep some of my things at your place and come to you for the night −" She said warmly, glancing at his reaction. He pressed his lips together and nodded, disappointed and ashamed at his desperation.

"− I'm yours −" She whispered, kissing his jaw softly, and he hummed under his breath, stroking her head and back tenderly.

"− so − will you come tomorrow too? −" He asked uncertainly, and she smiled under her breath.

"Yes."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

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aseaofyoongi · 2 years

Text

rivals academia | knj

pairing: knj x reader (f)

genre: slight angst/smut

rating: mature audiences ONLY (strictly 18+)

wc: 4.2 thousand

summary: you and kim namjoon absolutely hate eachother but after you’re both paired for a school project — things get rather interesting at the school library.

warnings: enemies to one-night stand (potential fwb) unprotected sex (wrap it up yall); penetrative sex; hand job; fingering; brief nipple play; teasing; dirty talk; public sex; foul language; dirty talk; bickering; thigh riding; slight degradation; praise kink; i think thats it ??; namjoon’s fucking thighs; i was having a moment of weakness please; college au

posted: sunday september 11th, 2022

Repulsed.

That’s precisely the word indicative enough to portray exactly how you felt. Repulsed, repugnant, nauseated, revolting — it all came rushing in like a wave of rage aggressively meeting the golden shores.

It was overwhelming yet still - here you sat across from him and his absolutely irritating aura. It excluded an intoxicating amount of cockiness and an irritating deal of arrogance.

His presence was so irritating.

So fucking irritating.

“Are we supposed to finish this whole project today?” He asked exasperated - as if putting off the project until the last minute wasn’t his exact idea and now he wants to treat it as a nuisance?

“The project is due Monday, Kim. And it is 8:00PM Friday,” you briefly examined the watch sitting on your wrist, “and I’m guessing you have plans for the entire weekend?”

Namjoon nodded eagerly, picking up his phone for the thousandth time but you snatched it right out of his hand.

“What the—”

“It’s time to get to work. For real this time, Kim.” You shoved his phone in your purse, “I'm tired of you just pretending to do things.”

“Can I have my phone back?” He uttered through gritted teeth.You could’ve sworn you saw clouds of smoke emitting from his ears as his usually chocolate eyes turned red hot with anger, “Now!.”

“You’ll get it back when you actually fucking do something for once.” You snapped back — standing your ground.

He slouched back on the wooden library chair and scoffed typing away at his laptop.

Kim Namjoon.

If it wasn’t obvious he wasn’t your first choice for a project partner, however, your Intro to Art History professor thought otherwise. And now you suffered the consequences; bearing the temper tantrums of a man baby.

“What was the year for Venus of Urbino again?”

“1534.”

“Artist?”

“Titian.”

“Interpretation some believe?”

You huffed — he was truly insufferable, “did you even read the cards she passed out?”

He rolled his eyes, “does it look like I did?”

“Kim, do I really have to do your part of the project too?”

He quirked a brow as he shrugged, “you’re the one holding me hostage.”

“I’m not holding you anything. You have a responsibility to this project as my partner. This doesn’t just fall on me.”

“And yet here I am contributing absolutely nothing and you’re already doing both our jobs so you might as well excuse me.” He pushed his chair back in an attempt to stand-up.

“I swear if you so much as take a step, Kim,” you stood up from the table from him — your eyes sternly set on his. You were not afraid of him, “your name will be removed from this entire fucking project and word on the street is you’re current GPA isn’t really securing you a place on the team. What is the athlete’s magic number again? 2.5 right?”

“Ouch!” His full lips curved into a smile. His chasmic dimples on full display. You could sense the sarcasm even in the simple phrase your attention was averted towards his lips. It’s rather nice. His smile that is. You didn’t really see it often but his smile — fuck — it was picturesque; similar to the sunset as it kissed the deepest depths of the cerulean sea when nighttime lurked behind in its shadows.

“Don’t hold back now.” he uttered, taking a seat once again.

“I don’t intend to.”

“Tell me, doll. Are you always this dense?”

You ignored him and continued typing your section of the project. Just pretend he’s not even here — you repeat in your head.

“Are you going to answer my question on Venus about the depiction or should I spend the next hour researching it?”

You looked up at him and there it is again. The soft strokes of curvatures of his golden cheeks painting a delicate smile.

“It is literally a five minute search,” You cleared your throat in an attempt to be clear and to avoid having to repeat yourself, “but to save you the trouble; we're focusing on sexuality through the ages she is theorized to be masturbating, Kim.”

“Masturbating?”

“Precisely, with the way she’s laying naked and the placement of her hands — it’s only been assumed by some and obviously our professor as well considering she included it.”

Namjoon huffed. “Interesting.”

“Not at all,” you pointed at his laptop, “now write it down.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Where is this going, Kim?”

“Well,” he began, “I don’t mean to be lewd—”

“You already are, Kim.”

“It’s Joon,” Namjoon smirked, “but have you ever?”

His words were brief but they were tainted with a vivid carmine hue — all of it backtracked with sexual intent. And truly you despised the kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting at the pit of your stomach.

“That is none of your business.”

“—but it is something to be curious about.”

“I don’t see why,” though the library was completely vacant and you both sat in a private study area for some reason you could feel a swarm of watchful judging eyes — all of them condemning everything you've ever done. Everything right down to that very question. You shifted in your seat clearly affected at the utterances of his beguiling words, “and the next artwork on the list is The Swing. Figure it out.”

“Truly, has a girl like you even —” he chuckled, “never mind.”

“What could you possibly mean by that?” there was a feeling bubbling deep inside but you couldn’t quite decipher what it was. Anger? Annoyance? Bashfulness? .

“I just mean you’re innocent.”

“Innocent?”

“You could barely say ‘masturbation’ without a stutter a couple minutes ago,” he shrugged and you knew that in his own twisted way Namjoon was using this as another thing to hold over you.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I just don’t feel like discussing those things with you. This has nothing to do with how innocent you think I am.”

“I think. .” He drifted off. His chin was now propped up on his palms.

“You think?” you emphasized the word ‘think.’

“You wanna know what I think?”

“Is it that maybe you should shut up for once so we can get this project done already?”

“In fact,” he scoffed, beginning to share his theory anyway, “I think you’re a virgin.”

“That’s a great observation, Kim. Now let’s move on to what we’re actually here for.”

He slouched down in his chair, his arms now crossed at his chest, his eyes laid intently on you sitting right across from him. His watchfulness was kind of — intimidating to say the least.

“Kim, it’s 9PM. Can we please?” you sighed your eyes, never leaving the brightness of your screen.

“I would but it’s just so hard to concentrate.”

You sighed, “what will it take for you to finally move on and finish this project once and for all?” You shut your laptop, your eyes finally meeting his once again,

“Answer my question. Have you ever masturbated?”

His cavernous voice was bottomless like the deep sea and the obscenity in his words sent a glacial shiver down your spine. Was his voice always this low? You’d never really noticed before.

“I know you may think I’m familial to freaks of some sort but like any normal person I have in fact masturbated Joon,” you let out all in one breathe.

“You called me Joon,”

“I did,” his smile beamed brighter than sun rays — the rapid thumping of your heart beat aggressively thumped against the walls of your chest and you were afraid he might just be able to hear, “Are we done or do you also need a demonstration?”

“Let’s make your proposition a bit more sensible,” he began.

“I was kidding.”

“It was your idea,” The air in the room grew thicker. It constricted your airway and for a minute you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Were the air vents even opened here? You checked and they were, “are you already backing out now?”

“Joon. .”

“Tell me,” his voice was provocative and you feared one more soft utter would have you stripped bare with little to no command.

“Tell you?” your leg is bouncing under the wooden table and you could feel your palms growing clammy.

The soft glimmer of the luminous moonbeam was casted upon him accentuating his sun-kissed tone and the striking features staring back at you intently — his glistening cherry lips, the way his dimples formed at the mere appearance of the smirk on his face and his stern amber gaze still so intimidating. It made you feel small but you are not going to show him the power he could have over you.

“What do you wanna hear?” your tone now masked in thin layers of silk.

He panted softly, “I want to hear it all.”

“You wanna hear about how I lay completely bare with my head propped up against my pillows. Eyes shut tightly as my hands explore every single inch of my body pretending it’s someone else?”

“Fuck-” His hands dug under the waistband of his sweats. Your eyes now casted on the way the cotton light grey fabric rhythmically moved up and down repeatedly. His chest heaved as his breathing became uneven — and in that moment you could not think of a more captivating sight. Like an erotic painting right out of the renaissance era. You remained at your previous position behind his chair, “but when I get tired of that I have to resort to other measures as you may know.”

“I d-don’t know..” he groaned. His tone expressed frustration and arousal combined. The repulsion you once felt ceased and all your mind could become aware of was the vast ocean accumulating between your thighs; staining the fabric of your underwear as the sight of Namjoon stroking himself in the campus library became imprinted in your mind.

“Sometimes, I also like to mount my pillow placing my thighs on each side as I move my hips steadily against the soft fabric. Slowly rolling my hips back and forth until I’m finally able to reach that high,” you whispered.

His soft pants filled the stillness and furnished the serenity amongst the vacant tables and chairs right outside the private study room. The sounds so addicting it looped within the walls of your head like a vinyl on a broken record player.

“Y-You—” was all he could manage as he became enthralled in his own pleasure, the sweat forming at his temples could attest to it.

“Can I touch you Joon?”

“Please.”

You placed a velvet kiss on the nape of his neck. Your hands found their way up to his dark strands — you softly tugged at it, pushing his head back, “well I’m not the one with my hands in my pants. Am I?”

A thunderous chuckle rumbled within the four walls of the secluded study room, “Please believe you are the clear cause of this.”

“I didn’t do anything, Joon.” you let out an airy laugh, “just provided details of a scenario per your request. Remember?”

“You’re a fucking demon.”

“And you’re too easy. Just like every other horny dude on this campus.”

“Please—” He begged, grabbing onto your wrist before you could walk away. This tone was husk and as much as you hated to admit it. It was like an alluring song to your ears all of it shooting right down to your core just like everything he did. “I need you.”

I need you. The three words invaded your tympanum serving as a command for his needed pleasure and you felt as if your feet vacated their stance on the ground. His honey voice was lulling and if he continued to say anything in that tone, you’d fear your dignity would rid itself and follow every single thing he’d bark without objection. Every bone in your body already begged you to comply; to do it for you and chase your own pleasure — and as much as your mind screamed at you to leave. You listened to the throbbing between your legs instead.

“Pull it all down,” You ordered and Joon quickly rid himself of the pesky fabrics standing between him and utter vulnerability. He didn’t even bother to get up, just allowed them to pool at his ankles. His rather massive erection now on full display — shocked wasn’t the word you were looking for. After all, Joon always exuded the aura that he was considerable in size but nevertheless it was a pleasant reaffirmation to your lingering rumors.

Joon cleared his throat pulling your eyes away from his erection — your trance was essentially amusing to him, you could see it painted on his smirk, “You can come closer you know. If you want to.”

“Closer?”

Joon softly tapped on his bare thighs. His thick fucking thighs. Having attended numerous of his soccer games you were constantly given a sneak peak at his toned legs. His upper thighs often lolled you into a fantasy that was now taking play right before you and instead of following the script your head had created for you on multiple occasions; instead you sat here salivating at the clear view of his lower half without the burden of shorts being in the way.

“Come sit. Please,” his pleading made your legs turn to jello — the way his tone so delicately continued to voice his intricate needs was fucking sexy. Although you’ve only been sitting on top of his left thighs approximately 30 seconds now you couldn’t help the way you were throbbing at an uncontrollable beat. You were certain he could feel it too — it was plastered all over his shit-eating grin.

“Can you be a good girl and move for me please?” His tone still velvet to the touch.

Your underwear were already drenched and you were terrified he would notice — the lack of shorts under your skirt left only the thin cotton fabric of your underwear to meet his thighs. But you were not going to back down. Not now.

“Have you done this before?”

“No,” you simply stated.

“Just follow along.”

You nodded.

Initially, the mere feeling of his hands secured around your waist clouded your thoughts entirely. His warm grasp sent waves of electric currents down your spine but nothing prepared you for the feeling that bubbled in your core as soon as his sinful hands instructed you to move. The pace began agonizingly slow and you followed his motion moving forward and backwards against his thigh.

You whimpered, “It feels so good. .”

Joon laughed — the sound drummed at your eardrums and without a stutter in his rhythm you were being guided to move against him faster and faster as he continued flexing his thigh muscles causing all that more friction against your lower half.

“N-namjoon,” You moaned holding on to his chest for support; your head rolled back as you grew consumed by pleasure.

His hands vacated their place on your waist but you continued the steady pace against him chasing a high you knew you were very close to achieving. Joon’s attention was diverted into your clothed chest.

“Can I take your shirt and bra off?”

“Mhm,” was all you truly could manage.

Though, you were breaking a sweat going at it against his thighs as soon as your top half was stripped you felt a draft of cool air meet your perky nipples. The slight frigidness you briefly felt subsided and instead you were met with Joon’s warm touch once again except now it was taking a hold of your breast — his slender finder massaged one while the other was taken care of by his plump lips. Your hands traveled to the back of his neck as the rhythm of your hips stopped against his thigh. Your senses now focused entirely on the way he swirled his tongue against the sensitive bud.

He paused for a moment looking up at you through hooded eyes, “did I say you could stop?”

“No.”

“Then, continue riding my thigh until I say it’s enough.”

The switch off between his pleads for consent and the way he barked orders in your direction shot straight down only adding to the piled up sexual frustration bubbling deep within you but nevertheless you obeyed — now taking on a slower pace against him as he continued his attack on your breasts.

Locked away in a retreat of arousal and between slurred words and dazed moans you asked Joon if he was in accordance with receiving some attention as well.

“I want to focus on you.”

“And I on you,”

“If you insist,” he gave in, “just stay on my lap.”

His words set a stump in wanting to suck him off but ultimately you settled for using your hands. After aiming down to use your saliva as lubricant you could see the shock sitting behind his lust induced eyes. Your hands began working at his length mimicking his earlier motions — there was nothing more you wanted than to be on your knees in front of him but you were glad you fought against those urges when you felt his hands traveling under your skirt to move your panties to the side.

“Fuck.” He hissed, “you’re drenched.” Joons words only affect you in the worst way possible. Causing the pool between your thighs to deepen, “you claim you’re so fucking quiet but that’s all a facade you know. You’re a fucking slut.”

You never thought a word would affect you as much as being called a slut but you fucking loved it.

“Call me that again,” you whined, “call me that again, please.”

“You’re a slut — you know that?” the soft pads of his fingers finally arrived at their destination and quickly began massaging your clit . . lento. An eruption of lights fired in the back of your mind as Joon continued to immerse himself in bringing you utter satisfaction. You were levitating — your body vibrated which only accentuated the feeling of his heavenly touch.

“Your slut.” your lips ‘fessed up before your brain could register what you actually said.

“My slut.” He sat-up on the wooden chairs but his fingers abandoned your bundle of nerves and traveled further down resting at your entrance, “You know what you’re doing to me right?”

His face was just inches away from yours but your eyes were set on his lips — you leaned forward. Both of you began composing a magical piece in the way your lips danced against each other. His kisses were drug induced and you were already addicted; making it impossible to even pull away so you didn’t and he certainly didn’t either. Under your skirt his phantom touch ceased until you felt his pointer and middle fingers push past your entrance.

“Your fingers are blessed Joon. . They’re fucking blessed. .” you rambled on, “Blessed.”

“You think so?” He pushed them further in causing a strain of moans to fall from your swollen lips.

“Hmm.”

Joon’s pace picked up as he continued to move in and out of you repeatedly. Truly, all the words you could make out were stuttered strings of praises toward his fingers. They were fucking blessed and right then you swore you could write a million poems just on how delectable they felt inside of you.

“Uh, J-Joon. I’m so close. . so so fucking close Joon.”

“Come for me,” he whispered against the nape of your neck as he continued peppering you with silken kisses.

“Shit. .”

His fingers continued moving at a rapid pace as they finally met that spot that drove you over the edge. If you were levitating before you could easily confirm that now you danced amongst the twinkling stars.

“You were so good for me.” He was panting, his chest matching your heaving as you came down from your high, “so fucking good for me.”

His words were always so intricately sensual and you could feel your arousal throb at his dulcet praises.

Why did you hate him again? You couldn’t recall ever having such a feeling for the man you were currently straddling.

You didn’t hate him. You craved him.

After Namjoon removed his hands from underneath your skirt he brought his fingers up to your mouth and smeared your juice on your lips like lip gloss. Before you knew it you were welcoming his digits past your cerise lips tasting your sweet nectar right off his fingers.

“You are so hot.”

“Did it really take having me half naked on your lap for you to realize that?”

“Actually, no. . only one of us in this room actually hated the other.”

“I didn’t hate you.” you blurred out.

“I didn’t say you did, doll. But since you practically snitched on yourself I think it’s safe to say you despise me. ”

“I despised you. As it's in the past,” you corrected him.

“Dick is all it took to change your mind?”

“Hmm,” you took Joon’s cock in your hand slowly pumping at his shaft once again. And he just looked so good— slouched on the chair, his hair disheveled, a slight glow taking hold of his forehead and chest as sweat ran down his tan skin tone. His grin showed the way his teeth sparkle even in the darkness of the room. Namjoon is pulchritudinous and you are under his spell, “I would need to actually have you inside me to make that deduction.”

“I-I didn’t bring protection,” he let out in-between pants.

“I mean I’m clean. Are you?”

He nodded eagerly. But that didn’t suffice. You wanted to hear his raspy voice as confirmation. You tightened your hold on his erection just a bit, “I didn’t hear you.”

His jaw was clenched but still managed a soft, “I’m clean.”

“Perfect.”

Joon welcomed you back on his lap now accompanying him in complete nudity after you had finally decided to rid yourself of the clothes still covering your lower half. His keen gaze felt like it cut right through your confidence like a knife. And although it was a bit intimidating you didn’t let it set a stumble in your actions. His hand landed back on your waist like earlier that night and he guided you towards the tip of his erection.

“Hold it while you go down.”

You complied. Taking him inch-by-inch, your mouth forming into an ‘O’ immediately after his tip pushed past your entrance.

“Y-you’re so fucking big,” you could’ve sworn his length was sucking the air right out of you like a vacuum.

If you thought Namjoon’s thighs and fingers are graces sent by God himself, there was absolutely nothing in this world that could compare to his cock. There was nothing in this world that could feel so—

“J-Joon,” you moaned, attempting to keep up with the overwhelming pleasure driven by the guidance of his clammy hands as you bounced on his dick.

“You feel so good, doll. You’re doing so well.”

His praises you discovered are your weakness — his words were dipped in honey and they fed your ears affirmations you could not get enough of. Your head grew hazy at the duality in his words.

That alone drove you closer and closer to the edge. Not to mention the way his thrusts met yours was a sufficient contribution to your demise — you are about to crumble at the mercy of Kim Namjoon’s massive dick.

“R-right there,” your temples glisten with sweat and you could feel the scratchiness in your throat take flight after the past hour you’ve just had, “don’t— please don’t stop.”

“Mhm. .” His thrusts are harder. Deeper. You could feel the way he continued meeting you right where you needed him most. His eyes never lose contact where your bodies meet comforted in the way he disappears inside of you entirely.

And he continued fucking you so good. Fucking you into oblivion.

The silence that once tip-toed around the both of you was gone never to be seen again. Instead it was replaced by the squeaking of the chair (which you continued to pray it wouldn’t break), Namjoon’s groans and your slurred obscenities. It was like that for a while until your legs began to shake and your moans became too loud to suppress. Until your juices coated his cock and his filled you up.

“The Swing-” he managed after catching his breath, “Jean-Honoré Fragonard, 1767. It symbolizes the ideas of infidelity, desire, eroticism and love. The guy on the bottom left is peeking up her dress right?”

“Huh?”

“The next one on the list for our project.”

You stared at him wide-eyed, a bit stunned by the realization, “You knew the information this entire time?”

“I had to get your attention somehow right,” he snickered.

“I hate you, Kim Namjoon,” you laughed playfully, landing a punch on his arm.

“After tonight, I think we both know that is simply not true.”

authour’s note: it took me forever to finish this for a lot of reasons but the main being that thisismyfirstsmutandiwassupernervoustopost so lol sorry if its — bad — i do apologize in advance. I tried and am using it as a way to break out of that shell and explore uncharted grounds. either way i hope some of you enjoy it lol

thank you for reading <3

- em

#kim namjoon #bts rm #bts #namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan #joon smut #rm smut #bts au masterlist #bts college au #bts drabble #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #bts x reader #bts angst #poc kpop #em stories

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ennabear · 3 months

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hii !! 🫶🏻 just discovered your account and i love it !! :) i was wondering if you could write some more headcannons about ellie? like, what job would she do? etc. i like to think that if she existed today, she'd probably be an illustrator for children's books !! that'd be so cool, tbh. i can see her making books about space or dinosaurs, and going to book fairs at schools to meet kiddos and talk to them about it. (crossover with professor!abby who used to teach little kids 🫶🏻🫶🏻) aah. sorry for rambling. but like, i just think ellie would have a blast if she existed today. like with all the museums ?? all the new ways to make art ?? but anyway !! what are *your* headcannons for modern ellie !! 🪐🫶🏻

modern!ellie’s job!! (hc) 🦕

thx for the request bae cause this made me smile so big. i have SO many hcs for modern ellie like i’ve been waiting for this moment!!!!! also dw about rambling i love to hear your thoughts 🤗

ok for starters i think ellie would be a nerd in high school. i know that some people headcanon her as a jock or a stoner (and that ellie has a special place in my heart) but i definitely think she’d be the opposite tbh. i imagine her with only a few friends (dina, jesse, cat). and i also think she’d have insanely good grades because she’s just smart like that. and all of her teachers love her because even though she’s quiet, she’s really kind and creative.

also i think her family would be just her and joel and maybe a dog. like imagine her spending her weekends getting guitar lessons from joel and then taking her dog on a walk and documenting it in her journal. she would fr have such a blast!!!!

for college i definitely think she’d major in astronomy/astrophysics or maybe art history?? and in her last years of college, she’d get a job as a secretary for a science museum. honestly, she didn’t hate it, but she was super jealous of the tour guide because she got to take all of the cute little kids on a walk and talk about the fun stuff while ellie had to sit behind a desk all day. but after begging her supervisor enough, she’d get promoted to tour guide after the mean old lady who used to do it retired.

and guess what??? the kiddos loved her!!! she always made sure the kids were having a great time and she knew a lot about what she was talking about, whether it was dinosaurs or planets or volcanoes. and the joke book came everywhere with her!! absolutely nothing made her happier than hearing the little monsters giggling and squealing about a joke that wasn’t even that funny.

abby and ellie would become good friends because of the time abby took her class to the museum on a field trip. they ended up actually really liking each other, especially because they had so much in common. and sometimes after work they’d meet up at a bar and talk about life, it was nice for them to both have a new friend who was equally as nerdy.

ellie would be a tour guide for quite a few years while abby got her doctorate. a few years after abby became a professor, ellie tried out illustrating a childrens book for a local visitor at the museum who was really fond of ellie. it was nothing too big, but she was really proud of it.

after she finished the drawings for the book, she wanted to try writing one of her own. so she decided to write a textbook for kids about dinosaurs with her own illustrations and a joke on every page.

safe to say it was super successful!!! she ended up going to local elementary schools and educating the littles about the different types of dinosaurs and each era they lived in. and you better believe old man joel was so proud!!!! his little girl ellie that he used to take to dinosaur museums was now writing her own dinosaur books!!!

i think eventually she’d quit her job at the museum and focus on being a writer full time, along with keeping art as a hobby. and i can 100% see her getting married and adopting a kid just like joel adopted her, and she’d pass on all of her science knowledge to her mini self. also i think she’d mainly only write science textbooks for kids, but may end up publishing a sci-fi novel or two.

i think that’s all :3 thanks for the ask sweetie pie ilysm 🫶

daily click / israeli themes in tlou

#to all the anons who have sent requests i swear i’m not ignoring you on purpose 😭#ellie williams #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #modern!ellie #the last of us

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streetlight11 · 2 years

Text

Green Flames

Summary: Slytherins can be really cunning and playful yet unpredictable. For example, the person you were so sure would be the last human on earth you'd ever fall for, ends up being the one you can't take your eyes off of

Theme: hogwarts au, frenemies to lovers

Genre: little angsty, slowburn, romance, fluff

Warnings: mild language

WC: 9.8k

Pairing: Slytherin!Minho x Gryffindor!FemReader

a/n: hiii! I was in my harry potter mood recently so I got the idea to write this! There's a few references from the movie but the plot is different. Hope you like it! 💕

Six years ago is when you got sorted into a house by the sorting hat. You came from a family of muggles, which simply means that you do not have a family history of wizards. Even then, Hogwarts was nice enough to invite you in as a student of the school. It was a great honour for you to be accepted into Hogwarts for many muggle kids weren’t blessed with this opportunity. Your parents were both ex-students of Hogwarts where your mother was a Ravenclaw and your father was a Hufflepuff. As for you? You were a Gryffindor.

You believed that you had a mixture of your parent’s traits in you, which is why you were neither in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff but it’s okay. Words about Slytherin house and the students itself got to you before you joined the school. You were warned of their cunning, sly and potentially mean characteristics that you ought to stay away from.

During your first day of school is when you meet the one person who would linger in your life for a long time even though they’re someone you told yourself to stay away from right from day 1.

Lee Minho.

He was already making mean comments to other students who were in your batch on your first day. It only made you wonder how someone could be this insensitive.

“Who gave you that haircut? Your old muggle grandpa?” Minho said as he and his posey laughed at his remark about a boy with a round haircut. He seemed a little timid, simply staying quiet while he got mocked. You couldn’t stand this behaviour which results in you stepping forward and directing your words to Minho.

“Watch your mouth.”

Minho gave you a menacing smirk whilst eyeing you from head to toe, only to ask, “Look who’s talking… I’ve heard about you… Must be hard to watch your muggle parents die in front of your eyes, hmm?” He laughed along with his friends, making you frown.

“Keep my parents out of your filthy mouth.”

“Make me.”

Just when you were about to pounce at him, Professor McGonagall came to welcome and debrief you at the steps before she brought you into the Great Hall along with the others. That’s when you not only got sorted into Gryffindor house, but you also found out Minho’s name.

His name would be at the top of your enemies list, you just know it.

You were now in your sixth year in Hogwarts. Your close friends were Changmin from Hufflepuff, Chan and Eunseo from Gryffindor. You were quite a social butterfly so you were friends with many of your classmates despite being in different houses. The only person you weren’t friends with was obviously Minho. It was nearly impossible to see the two of you go by a day without bickering at least once since year 1.

Today was no different. Defence Against the Dark Arts class had just ended with Snape tasking you with a 6 page essay on werewolves. You were just walking down the hallway with Changmin and Eunseo when a harsh shove to your shoulder made you stumble forwards.

How could you miss that strong cedarwood smell approaching from behind you a second ago?

A glare was thrown towards the person who had just crashed into you, witnessing the smirk on that familiar face. “Oh, sorry Y/N. Didn’t see you there.” Minho said as his friends laughed at you. They walked off like nothing happened, only for you to curse under your breath, “One of these days, I swear to god I’d throw him to buckbeak as bait.”

Your friends laughed at you for even thinking about that, telling you to just move on.

“I can never understand how you put up with him and it’s already been six years.” Changmin said, making you groan in annoyance.

“I don’t have a choice, do I? That moron just keeps appearing into my life like a goddamn leech.”

“I guess it suits him cause you know, he is a Lee anyway, get it?” Eunseo made a joke that was quite lame yet true at the same time.

“Good call.” You laughed at her joke, finding it funny.

You made it to the Great Hall for lunch, parting ways with Changmin since he was a Hufflepuff. Meanwhile, you and Eunseo went over to your friends at the Gryffindor table. The only downside today was that Slytherin’s table was right next to yours on the right side of the hall. You almost cursed your friends for sitting right behind Minho and his friends. Just before you reached the empty space next to Jisung, Minho turned to you since he was standing up.

“Are you sure you wanna sit there? Cause I might wanna talk to you every 5 minutes.” Minho teased you with a growing smirk on his face.

“I’ll just pretend you don’t exist then.” You flashed him an insincere smile before you proceeded to sit next to Jisung. You missed the way his smirk changed into a smile as he watched you sit down before he too did the same.

Dumbledore was making his speech, talking about the school values and a little history about the school for the new batch of students who had just joined you that day. You were quietly listening to him, hearing Kevin complain about how the speech is boring and dry as usual. Your hands were busy fiddling with the outer rim of your plate when a soft hit to the back of your head made you flinch.

The soft giggles behind you cleared your suspicions. You ignored it as you tilted your head slightly in annoyance. A few minutes later, it happened again. With a huff, you slowly craned your neck to look over your shoulder with the sharpest glare you could give, only to lock eyes with Minho who had a cheshire grin on his face.

“What?!” You mouthed to him since Dumbledore was still talking at the podium.

“Nothing. Just wanted to see your face.” Minho whispered without a single ounce of remorse. You turned back ahead, hanging your head low to try and keep your calm.

A few seconds later, another hit to the back of your head was felt. This time, instead of turning to look over your shoulder, you reached an arm over to pretend like you were scratching your head but actually, you gave him your middle finger. Laughter could be heard so you knew they saw it. Thankfully, after that last throw, he didn’t bother you anymore. After lunch, you had an hour of free time before your next muggle studies class.

Your friends wanted to sit around at the viaduct courtyard but you weren’t in the mood so you opted to go back to your common room. After parting ways with them outside the hall, you began to head towards the stairs that lead you to the changing stairways. Gryffindor common room was on the seventh floor so it would take you quite some time to reach there.

Nevertheless, you began to climb the stairs while reading your favourite novel from one of your local town’s bookstores back when you were living with your parents.

Time flies by without you realizing but you managed to head to your muggle studies classroom just maybe a few minutes late. Thankfully Professor Burbage was a lenient lady who simply gave you a smile before gesturing for you to join the class. As much as you wanted to sit next to Eunseo and Chanmi, Eunbi was already seated next to them.

The only seat that was left empty is on the other side of the classroom, next to Chanwoo and Moonbin, just diagonally above Minho.

Immediately, he was the first person you locked eyes with. Seeing the corner of his lips curve up into a smirk.

Nonetheless, you took a seat next to Chanwoo while Professor Burbage continued from where she left off. You paid attention as she explained about the topic you were covering this week and that was about how mating between muggles and purebloods were recommended so as to expand wizardry.

Of course, the minute that was said, some of those purebloods from Slytherin house began to scoff and make disapproving sounds.

“As if. That would just corrupt our perfect bloodline.” Jungwoo, a pureblood from Slytherin who happens to be Minho’s friend, said aloud. A series of laughs and agreements from the rest of their clan was heard.

“Oh, believe me Mr Kim… I’ve had some students in the past saying the exact same thing only for me to find out later that they found true love with fellow muggle borns. It is possible.” She said with a smile on her face, making Jungwoo and some others groan in disgust. Naturally, your eyes flicked over to the side. As if on cue, you caught Minho turning his head slightly as his eyes glanced past his shoulders.

He wasn’t looking at anyone in particular but you saw the way his eyes briefly glanced over to your feet before he turned back in front. Once class was dismissed, you packed your bags only for Chanwoo to ask you a question.

“Hey, are you heading anywhere after this?” Chanwoo and Moonbin were both Ravenclaws and you’ve spoken to them quite a number of times during your past few years of sharing classes. You just weren’t close to them like you were with Changmin, Eunseo, Juyeon and Kevin.

“I don’t think so. Why?” You said as the three of you began to walk down the steps together with everyone else.

“We’re going to the quidditch field to practice for fun. Wanna join us?”

“I don’t mind. I could use a little practice too actually. I’ll meet you guys at the quad then we can head there together?”

“Okay.” Chanwoo smiled at you, making you mimic his reaction.

You had just left the room and were just making your way down the spiral stairs, too lazy to catch up with your friends that were already a few flights down. Suddenly, you felt a soft brush of fingers to your right so you turned. Slightly surprised to see who it was.

“Going for quidditch practice, huh? Can I join?” Minho asked with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Uh, no?”

“Why not? We’re both seekers anyway.”

“Go practice with your own teammates.”

“They’re no fun… I wanna practice with you.” Minho said as you felt his hand brush over yours again. Completely by accident? You don’t know.

“Kiss up.” You whispered under your breath, only to snap your head at him when he spoke up.

“Kiss you? Gladly.” Minho smirked as he playfully leaned in to you. The first thing you did was place your hand on his face and pushed him away, hearing his cackle right after. You frowned at him but why was your heart pounding in your chest?

“Fuck off, Minho.” You said before rushing down the steps to catch up with Eunseo and Juyeon. Minho’s laugh was loud but it wasn’t obnoxious. In fact, it was sort of like a teasing laugh.

That left your stomach filled with awaken butterflies.

It was a Saturday afternoon. You were all given permission to head down to Hogsmeade provided you got a parent or guardian to sign your permission slips. Since your parents were deceased, you managed to get your aunt to sign it. You gave the signed permission slip to Mr Filch before joining your friends in the crowd. Professor McGonagall reminded you all to be at your best behaviour when you are in town as you would be representing the school.

Once she gave you the green light to go about with your day, Mr Filch began to lead you to Hogsmeade. You were walking with Chan, Eunseo, Felix and Jisung when a familiar voice called for you. Upon turning your head, Minho smiled at you as you noticed he was walking a few feet behind you along with two of his close friends, Changbin and Hyunjin.

“I heard that muggles love to go to the shop called Zonko’s Joke shop cause you know… muggles are a joke?” Minho said with the most proudest smiles on his face. Changbin and Hyunjin snorted a laugh behind him.

“Please… the only joke around here is you.”

“Oh Y/N… You really are funny.” Minho said before he ruffled your hair. You grabbed his wrist to forcefully shove it away, clicking your tongue at him in sheer annoyance.

After a few more minutes of walking, you finally arrived at Hogsmeade, making sure to go separate ways from him.

You soon found yourself in Three Broomsticks Inn along with your four other friends. Chan went to order while you sat between Felix and Jisung. The next hour was spent chatting about dates and love interests that they had. Throughout the entire conversation, you kept quiet simply because you didn’t have anything much to say. Just then, Eunseo directed her words to you.

“Y/N, how about you? Do you have anyone you crush on at the moment? Maybe Chanwoo? I mean, he seems like he’s interested in you recently.” Eunseo said with a playful smirk, causing the rest of them to tease you.

The only problem is, your mind naturally thought of a name the minute she asked that question.

“Nah… Chanwoo is a nice guy but he’s just a friend to me.”

“That’s a bummer… What about the seeker from Ravenclaw, Jeon Jungkook? He’s quite a hunk, don’t you think?” Eunseo asked.

“He’s cute but he seems a little boastful sometimes.”

“You’re literally the most boring person I’ve ever met.” Jisung joked as you slapped his chest with the back of your hand softly. The poor boy grunts in pain before he scoots further from you with an apology. Just then, the doorbell chimed only to see Minho and his two friends enter the pub. A soft sigh left your lips, darting your eyes to the mug of butterbeer sitting right in front of you.

“You know, I’m actually starting to think he has a crush on you. He’s always in the same room as you.” Felix said, making you turn to him with a raise of an eyebrow.

“Who?”

“Lee Minho. Who else? Oh will you look at that? Perfect timing. He’s looking at us.” Felix announced only for Eunseo to speak up.

“I think you meant Y/N. He’s looking at Y/N.”

With that being said, you glanced up to find that your friends were right. Minho was indeed looking at your table, more specifically you. Though he never actually came over to disturb the shit out of you, the constant glances he threw your way every time you happened to look over cannot be counted with your fingers.

And every single time you locked eyes with him, a smile was always on his face and you weren’t sure if it was for his friends or for you. Either way, you opted for turning away before it became a staring contest.

Your curfew at Hogsmeade was about to end so the five of you got up to leave. As you were walking down the streets of Hogsmeade, you noticed a group of Slytherin students tormenting a poor year 1 girl just a few metres ahead of you. The closer you got, the clearer their words were.

“Go back to your parents, mudblood. You’re not welcomed in Hogwarts.” They said as they soon casted a rain cloud over the girl. She got drenched as she ran down the path with the cloud still hovering over her head.

You were the only muggle born amongst your four friends so obviously, this triggered you the most. With that being said, you took out your wand and casted the disarm spell to the boy who made that cloud appear. He growled as he turned to see who did it. When he saw you lower your wand, he glared at you.

“You’re gonna pay for that, mudblood.” He said as one of his friends was about to cast a spell on you but you managed to disarm him. Except you weren’t quick enough to block the other one.

“Stupefy!”

You felt a huge force throwing you back in the air, only to collide with the pebbled ground harshly. A sharp hiss left your lips as Eunseo and Jisung rushed over to you. They helped you up, making sure you weren’t injured but you were still pissed off.

Right when you were about to attack him back with a spell, someone had done it for you.

“Everte Statum!”

The boy was thrown back similar to how you did. You whipped your head around to find who did it. What surprised you was seeing Minho lowering his wand before his eyes met yours. He didn’t say anything but his gaze wasn’t a teasing one. Instead, he was frowning.

He soon walked past you before going over to the Slytherin boys and said something to them. All of you began to walk back to Hogwarts as though nothing happened but of course, someone from town must’ve informed the teachers at Hogwarts. Reason being the minute you arrived at the castle, Professor McGonagall was already calling for you, Minho, the Slytherin boy and the first year student into her office. The four of you stood in line with you being right next to Minho.

“I am very disappointed in all of you. I have clearly warned you all of the rules and regulations when you visit Hogsmeade town. This behaviour is simply unacceptable.” She announced as you gave the Slytherin boy a side glance, only to catch Minho looking over to you.

“Miss Yuna, I’m so sorry you had to experience this horrible treatment by your own classmate. I will make sure that this does not happen to you again. You are dismissed.” The girl timidly nodded before she left, only for Professor McGonagall to give the remaining 3 of you a slight glare.

“As for you three… You shall receive detention for not following the rules and regulations.” She said firmly but you didn’t think it was fair.

“But he’s the one being an asshole! I was just trying to help her.”

“Language Miss Y/N... But yes. He was. And you were. Yet, that does not give you the right to behave in such a manner.” You were going to retaliate back but you felt Minho grab your wrist and soon, she spoke up again.

“What you did was honourable… but rules are rules. You will receive punishment for your actions. I will get Mr Filch to take you to Hagrid’s tonight at 9pm. I want all of you to gather at the Grand Staircase by then. 50 points will be taken from each of you. You may go.” She said as the three of you soon left her office. The minute you were a few metres away from the office, you called for that guy.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

“So what? Mudbloods like her shouldn’t be allowed in Hogwarts, much like you.” He spat.

“And purebloods, should? Just because you have wizardry running in your blood, doesn’t make you any better than muggles. Only pathetic purebloods like you don’t deserve a spot in Hogwarts.” You said, already an arms length away from the said boy.

He snarled at you, taking a step forward to close the gap with you. “What did you say?” His voice was deep, wanting to sound scary but you didn’t seem to falter.

“You heard me loud and clear.” You said.

Right when the boy was just about to lay hands on you, Minho stepped in to put a distance between you and the boy as he pressed a firm hand on the boy’s chest. “That’s enough, Taehyun.” Minho said, his voice sounding intimidating to you as all you could see was his broad back. After the younger boy left, Minho turned to you with a frown. Neither of you said a word as you simply walked away and towards your common room.

A few hours later, you had already showered and changed into a sweater with loose pants and shoes along with your Gryffindor robe. You made your way to the Grand Staircase at 9pm, only to find Minho and Taehyun already standing there.

Not long after, Mr Filch came only to lead you to Hagrid’s cottage.

When you arrived, Hagrid came out with his dog. He dismissed Mr Filch by saying, “Thank you Filch, I can take it from here.” You watch quietly as Mr Filch walks back to the castle with his cat whilst Hagrid tells the three of you to follow him. Sheer panic began to engulf you when you realized you were heading to the forbidden forest.

“We’re going in there? I thought that students weren't allowed in the forest! We can’t go in there!” Taehyun said.

“Yes, you’re right. But students are forbidden to enter the forest without adult supervision. Since you were tasked to serve detention with me, you are indeed allowed to enter the forest. Now, come with me.” Hagrid said as you walked behind him while Minho was next to you and Taehyun was next to Hagrid.

The forest was eerily silent with random noises appearing from all directions every now and then. A few seconds later, Hagrid stopped walking and soon pointed to a puddle of silver liquid on the ground.

“See that? That’s unicorn blood, that is. I found one dead a few weeks ago. So… our job… is to find the poor beast. Taehyun, you come with me. Y/N, you go with Minho."

“Fine... Can we get Fang at least?”

“Alright, but just so you know… he’s a bloody coward.”

Right after, the dog whines at you, making you frown. The four of you part ways in pairs, leaving you and Minho to go deeper into the forest with Fang beside you. Minutes passed as you scoured the area to find the dead unicorn. You were walking in silence, eyes trying their best to see in the dark. Just then, a werewolf howl could be heard in the distance, catching you by surprise.

Naturally out of complete instinct, you reached out to grab hold of something nearest to you. In this case, it was Minho’s arm. He glanced down at you, his lips tugged into a small smile before he teased you.

“Scared already?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the forbidden forest with no adult present and a cowardly dog that would literally be useless if we got into trouble. So yes, I am scared.” Minho laughs as he feels you let go of his arm.

“If it makes you feel any better, you can hold my hand. You know, so you remember that you’re not alone?” Minho smirked at you effortlessly. He soon held out his hand, allowing you to stare at it for a few good seconds. Contemplating on whether or not to hold it like he suggests.

Right when you were about to refuse his offer, another weird noise was heard in the distance, only for you to quickly lace fingers with his and hug his arm close to your chest.

“I swear this is torture at this point.” You whispered under your breath causing him to laugh.

“Wow. After six years, I finally got you to hold my hand. What a surprise.”

“This is just a one time thing, you buffoon. Don’t get used to it.”

“Why not? It feels nice, doesn’t it?” Minho asked as you looked at him to try and find his teasing eyes but instead, he softly looked at you with a smile tugging on his lips. A smile that seemed too genuine for it to be a teasing one. You couldn’t stand his eye contact any longer so you turned away from him. That’s when you saw something laying on the ground a few metres away.

“Minho, look.” You said as you pointed towards the left before you began to drag him over. When you made it closer, you found yourself staring at the dead unicorn’s body with a slight disgust prominent on your face.

“We should tell Hagrid.” Minho suggests as he took out his wand and pointed it to the sky.

“Periculum.”

You watched as red sparks shot up into the sky before it exploded and soon disintegrated into small specks. While waiting for Hagrid to come, you let go of Minho’s hand and slowly walked closer to the body. Without touching it, you inspected the injury, noticing a huge chunk of flesh had gotten ripped out of the unicorn’s neck.

“What do you think happened?” You asked.

“Probably another creature attacked it… I mean surely. This forest is literally the home to almost every creature in the wizarding world.”

You hummed in response, only to hear footsteps approaching and soon, both Hagrid and Taehyun appeared. After detention was over and Hagrid managed to bring you back to the castle safely, the three of you reentered the school grounds to head back to your common rooms.

While Taehyun had walked ahead of you, Minho stayed by your side as he even walked you to the changing stairway tower that was located at the other side of the building from where his common room was located.

“Aren’t you gonna head back?” You asked curiously.

“Why? I can’t walk with you for a little while more?”

“I-I just… wouldn’t want you to waste your time. It’s already late.”

“Don’t worry about me, Y/N. I do this all the time.” Minho confessed to him sneaking around the castle during late hours and potentially getting himself in trouble if you actually exposed him to either one of the professors in Hogwarts.

“Are you saying you want to get caught?”

“Caught for sneaking around the castle past curfew? No. But caught for walking you to your common room as a kind gesture? Maybe…” He smirked at you, earning a scoff from you. A small smile tugs on your lips, making him laugh.

“Are you trying to hit on me, Lee Minho?”

“That depends… Are you falling for it?”

“Never in a million years.”

“Are you sure about that?” Minho said as he grabbed your waist and pulled you back.

A soft gasp left your lips when you accidentally crashed into his chest with your hands pressed onto his chest out of instinct. Your face was inches away, feeling him snake his arm around you. Minho’s eyes flicked down your face innocently, making you nervous.

“W-What are you doing?” You stumbled over your words in a hush, not trusting your voice at the moment. Minho could only smile down at you, flicking your eyes back up to meet his.

“Nothing… Just wanted to tease you.” Minho said as he nudged his nose against yours and soon took a step back while letting go of you. “Well, goodnight Y/N. See you in class.” He gave you a wink before he turned to leave you standing there completely lost and confused.

Nevertheless, you rushed back to your common room with the image of Minho being that close to you, running through your mind the entire night.

One of these days, he’s gonna be the death of you and not in a bad way.

The following days, Minho has been bipolar with you. Sometimes he would act sweet and kind towards you, then there are days where he would pick a fight with you or simply trigger you until you felt pissed off with him. Every time you would be nice to each other, students around you would think there’s something going on with you and him. Today was nothing short from the other days.

You were having your Herbology lesson where Professor Longbottom was teaching class. Herbology is one of your favourite subjects in school next to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

“As you all may be aware of, I have given you a short test about the different types of plants we grow here in the greenhouse, correct?” Professor Longbottom said, earning a series of head nods and yeses from everyone in the room.

“I have already marked your scripts and I will be returning them back to you after class.”

An hour later, he did exactly as he said he would. He distributed the papers one after another. However, when he gave you your script, he told you to help out later since he has an important meeting to attend to. So you being the model student you were, you accepted his offer to help out in the greenhouse during the extra tutorial. When the time finally comes, you make your way to the greenhouse only to find Professor Longbottom pacing around the room doing certain things at the same time.

“Good evening Professor! Is there something I could help you with?”

“Ah, Miss Y/N. Good evening. Thank you for coming. I’m sorry if I disrupted your day in any way, but will it be okay if you helped to conduct the extra tutorial today? I have an important meeting to attend in 5 minutes and the tutorial will start in 10 minutes. There’s only one student for the extra tutorial so I believe it will be fine.

“Oh, okay. What do you need me to do, Professor?”

“Go through the test scripts and explain the questions they got wrong. I trust that you can do it since you are in fact a star student in Herbology.” Professor Longbottom gave you a polite smile, making you giggle softly.

“Yes sir, Professor.” He laughed at your response. Ever since day 1, Professor Longbottom has been a very nice man to all of you. He was very humble and helpful that you could go to him if you ever had any questions about Herbology. Sometimes with other classes too, and personal problems. He wasn’t that old as compared to other Professors in school so you found it nice that he would sometimes treat you like a friend rather than a student and teacher.

So after he briefed you on what to do, he took his leave. You were now alone in the greenhouse. A few minutes later, you were just pouring the soil into the new pots when a familiar voice echoed in the greenhouse.

“Of all people I have to go through with this stupid tutorial, it just had to be you.”

Minho said as he walked through those doors with his hands tucked into his pants pockets. Minho was wearing his uniform minus the tie. Basically his pants, white button up shirt, green and dark grey sweater vest along with his Slytherin robe. He reached over to let his fingers glide over the row of pots on the table. Just when he was about to touch the purple flowers blooming in a pot, you stopped him immediately. He halts his movements as you scold him for being careless.

“Don’t touch that! That’s an Aconite, the leaves are very toxic and the flowers are poisonous.”

“That’s a what now?” He asked with a curious brow, making you scoff as you watched him lower his hand.

“An Aconite. If you had actually paid attention during class, you would’ve known not to touch those, you idiot.”

“And you know about every plant in this room?”

“I definitely know a shit ton more than you do so that’s good enough.”

“Kiss up.” Minho whispered under his breath, making you scowl.

“At least I’ll know which plants to avoid in the wild.” You said before you continued to pot the remaining plants. Minho joins you by your side while he looks at you planting the newly grown Fluxweed. You quickly finished up what you were doing before beginning to carry out the task you were informed to do. You spent the next one hour going through all the questions he got wrong and explaining to him the answers.

The first few minutes, you would bicker with him if he gets distracted or fools around while you were explaining but after a while, he actually listened to you quite attentively. You had about 10 minutes left before the tutorial ends so you decided to test him to see if he remembers what you taught him.

“What are two things that a Devil’s Snare can’t stand?” You asked as you watched his eyes darting over the plants desperately.

“Uh… Fuck… Oh! Light or Fire.”

“Name three plants that start with the letter B.”

“Baneberry. Bulrush. And… Balm.” He said. You took a small pot which grows a pretty, colourful tubular flower with a long and leafy stem with leaves on it.

“What is this?”

“A Foxglove.”

“It’s usage?”

“It is a highly poisonous plant, and is a key ingredient to make the Pompion Potion.”

“Name the two crucial plants needed to make the Polyjuice Potion.” You asked the minute you placed the pot down and turned your head to look at him.

“Knotgrass and Fluxweed picked at full moon.” Minho said as his eyes flew to yours, instantly flicking down south briefly before meeting yours again. You were honestly impressed that he managed to answer all of your questions easily without hesitation.

“I see my teachings actually paid off for once. That’s a good start.” You joked, earning a shrug from him.

“Maybe because I listen better when it’s you who teaches.” You diverted your eyes from his eyes, a little too panicky earning a soft chuckle from him. There was a brief pause as the room fell silent for a second or two.

“Looks like you’re ready for the retest. Good luck.” You soon glanced down at your wristwatch to find that the tutorial was over so you clasped your hands together to gain his attention.

“Well then, that’s it for the extra tutorial. You can leave.” You said as you walked off to go attend to some of the plants. That’s when you heard him ask softly behind you.

“Everyone should be in the Great Hall by now. Aren’t you coming too?” He asked but you simply kept your back to him.

“I will. I just have to finish cleaning up. You can go ahead first.”

“Are you sure? I mean, do you need some help?”

“Nope, I’m good. See you at dinner.” You turned to give him a smile, only to find him staring at you with the subtlest frown you’ve ever seen. When he didn’t seem too convinced with your reply, you let out a soft chuckle before speaking up more firmly this time.

“I’ll be fine, Minho. Just go.” You said again yet with another smile. With that being said, he finally nodded and soon left even though he was contemplating on staying behind.

You spent the next few minutes in the greenhouse doing exactly what you told him you were going to do before you headed straight to the Great Hall. When you arrived, Dumbledore was making his speech so he paused and gave you a brief nod. You rushed over to your friends who had left an empty space for you. Once you’ve seated down, Eunseo whispers next to you.

“Where were you? We didn’t see you in the common room after last period.”

“I had to go do something. Sorry about that.”

“Were you from the greenhouse too?” Jisung suddenly asks.

“Too?” You got confused now.

“We overheard Minho’s friends asking him where he was because he came in right when Dumbledore was going to make his speech. He told them he was in the greenhouse for his extra tutorial.” Jisung said.

Just then, you glanced past Jisung’s head that was seated right in front of you, only to lock eyes with Minho who happened to sit at the table right behind your friend and was perfectly in line with your sight. It looked like he had just looked over to your table as well because his head had turned during the exact same time you did. He had a blank facial expression at first but the minute he locked eyes with you, his expression changed.

Minho’s eyebrows relaxed as the corner of his lip began to tug upwards slightly almost as if he was forcing himself not to smile.

Upon seeing this, you glanced down to your plate to hide your face briefly and it worked. Because the minute you looked back up, he was already chatting with his friends. After dinner was over, everyone was dismissed and your house prefects were tasked to lead all of you back to your common rooms in an orderly manner.

You were just blending together with the crowd while talking to Chan about your final exams when you suddenly felt fingers brushing into your palm followed by a piece of paper being pushed into your hand. You turned to your side, surprised to see Minho there. He didn’t say a word as he simply gave you a wink and soon parted ways with you outside the Great Hall to follow the rest of his Slytherin housemates.

Nevertheless, you kept the paper in your robe pocket, making sure to open it when you’re alone.

The minute you entered your common room, you rushed up the spiral stairs to head to the girl’s dormitory. You made your way to your bed and sat on it with your back leaning against the wall to make sure no one peeked over your shoulder or anything.

Meet me at the clocktower at 11pm sharp. Try not to get caught by Mr Filch or Mrs Norris :) ~ LMH

You let out a soft sigh as you kept the note in your side drawer. A few hours later, you made sure everyone in the room was asleep before you snuck out. You successfully made it to the clocktower without being spotted or followed by any Professors, let alone Mr Filch. You waited by a pillar, just hoping you weren’t caught when a firm hand on your shoulder made you flinch harshly followed by a loud gasp.

With your hands naturally flying up to clasp your mouth, you were met with Minho who had the brightest smile on his face. He holds out a small bottle to you, making you ask what it was.

“Drink half of it and save it for later. It’s an invisibility potion. It wears off after 15 minutes.” He said, making you raise a brow at him curiously.

“Is this how you sneak around in school after hours?” You asked, seeing that prominent smirk appear on his handsome face.

“Clever girl. Bottoms up.” He cheered your bottle and soon both of you gulped down half of the liquid mixture. When you start to see the potion take effect, Minho soon grabs your hands and leads you out of the school grounds. That way, you wouldn’t be lost on where to go since you were holding his hand.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see."

“I wanna know now.”

“Jeez, impatient much?” Minho laughed, making you slap his arm. He ignored you as he led you deeper into the woods. Right when you had made it out of the dense forest, you finally realised where you were. You were at the shallow side of the Black Lake on the other side of the castle. The scenery was absolutely breathtaking to you especially at night. With how beautifully the moon shines down on you and the lake. The mountains upon mountains that lay far into the distance.

This would be the perfect place to run away to if you needed to clear your mind. You were so busy admiring the scenery that you didn’t even notice he was starting to strip off his clothes until he was just wearing his boxers. You panicked as you quickly covered your eyes with your hands, your voice going high pitched slightly from sheer panic.

“W-What in the name of Dumbledore do you think you’re doing?!”

“I can’t possibly enter the lake fully clothed, can I?” Minho laughed as he gently pulled your hands away from your face before he jogs towards the water. “Come on! Get in the water!” He beckons you over, submerging waist deep into the lake and soon plops himself down to fully let his body be surrounded by the water.

You contemplated stripping since no one has actually seen you half naked before. This was new to you as you would usually come prepared if your friends ever thought of swimming but it was a rare occasion. However, seeing how free Minho seemed to be swimming, it only pushed you to just do as he says.

Carefully, you began to pull your sweater over your head, leaving your black bra on. Hooking your thumbs underneath your sweatpant’s waistband, you pushed the material down your hips and legs, stepping out of them. You were now half naked for him to see, making you hug yourself protectively despite knowing he would never do anything bad to you.

You were only calf deep when Minho stopped whatever he was doing to give you a good look. He has never seen this much of your skin. He never knew what to expect.

Minho had always thought that he could never be close to you considering how much you hated each other during your first two years. But as the years flew by, both of you began to tone down a notch and your usual fights and banters ended up being playful comments, jokes and sometimes occasional flirts from his end. All of which, you seem to go along with it like it never bothered you one bit.

So to see you like this for the first time in six years, he was giddy. He was absolutely giddy. He could feel butterflies erupting in his stomach at this point.

You continued walking further down until you were chest deep. Minho stood just a few metres away at this point but you were scared to go to where he was. You didn’t want to drown in the dark water so you opted to play safe.

“This is as far as I can go.” You said, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“But that’s not even the best part. You can really feel yourself being in the open where I am.”

“I’m not about to volunteer myself to drown in this black lake, Minho. I can’t swim.”

“I won’t let you drown.” Minho said as he held out his hand to you but you stayed put. You were scared and he could see it. So when he swims up to you, he stops right in front of you.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

Almost immediately, you nodded despite your mind telling you to say no. He smiled at you before you felt his arm snake around your waist underwater. You gasped softly before his other arm extended out to your side in preparation.

“Ready? Hold on to my shoulders.” You let out a soft whine as you obeyed his words nonetheless.

Soon enough, Minho began to swim backwards as you felt your feet slowly paddle behind you. After a few minutes of swimming, Minho finally stops to let his body fall perpendicular to the water surface. The moment your feet weren't touching any sort of ground, you began to panic as you desperately wrapped your arms around his shoulders while burying your face in his neck.

Minho laughs at you but still asks if you were okay. When he heard you whine, he laughed softly again.

“Will you try and let go of me?” He asked.

“Absolutely not! I’ll drown!”

“You won’t drown.”

“No!”

“Y/N…”

“No!” You whined against his neck, feeling his chest rumble against yours whenever he laughed. Just then, you felt one arm snake around your waist as something brushed over your calf. Sheer panic ran through your spine as a soft scream left your lips.

“Ah! What was that?! Something touched my leg!”

“That was me.”

“Fuck me, I’m going insane…” You cried in his ear but no actual tears were coming out. Minho didn’t expect to hear those first two words from you but nonetheless, it made him smile.

“Okay, how about this… I want you to pull away but keep your arms around my shoulders, can you do that?”

“I-I’ll try…”

“Good girl. Now try and slowly pull back.” He instructed you gently as you carefully did like he said. Once you manage to bring your face in front of him with your head hung low, Minho uses his other hand to tilt your chin up. When you locked eyes with him, he flashed you the sweetest smile and soon told you to look up.

You almost let go of him in awe when you saw just how bright and pretty the moon was hanging above your heads. It was beautiful. A soft ‘wow’ left your lips in a whisper while your eyes were fixed on the moon.

What you didn’t notice was how he never once let his eyes wander off your face.

Minho was still staring at you except maybe taking this chance to properly admire your features up close. He took his time to memorise every detail of your face like he would for his exams. The only thing is, he may or may not have lingered his gaze on your lips a little too long because when you glanced back down to say something to him, you had caught him staring at your lips. Both of you fell silent but you were the first one to break the ice.

“Minho?”

“H-Huh?” His eyes finally flew up to meet yours.

“Is… everything okay?”

“I-I… yeah…” He said merely in a whisper. You stared at him softly as you watched his eyes flick back down to your lips.

Just then, Minho consciously leans his head forward slightly until you feel his nose brush against the side of your nose. Your heart was racing in your chest while you kept one arm wrapped around his shoulder while the other hand slid up to lace your fingers into his hair soothingly.

Right before you could feel him graze his lips over yours teasingly, the sound of thunder rumbling through the sky made you pull away from shock.

“I think we should go. It’s getting late.” Minho said with a heavy heart but nevertheless, guided you safely back to shore. After you’ve worn back your clothes, both of you ran back to the castle before you got caught in the rain. You managed to drink the remaining half of the invisibility potion, leaving you unseen to the naked eye. Once you made it back to the castle, you didn’t properly say goodbye as Professor Snape was seen roaming the halls you had to head down.

You took a different route after squeezing his hand gently to say your goodbyes. Even though the goodbyes were inaudible and that shared moment at the lake was cut short, the thought of it never left your mind the entire night.

You just couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if the thunder didn’t interrupt you.

Ever since that night, both of you never knew how to acknowledge the situation without making things awkward. So you opted to just move on despite not actually moving on. Same goes for himself. It has been two weeks since that incident at the lake and you noticed how Minho rarely talked to you these days. A small part of you missed having conversations with him even if it was you two bickering. Now, he wouldn’t even talk to you unless he really had to for class purposes.

Today was no different. It was a Thursday morning and you were having Potions class where Professor Slughorn was teaching this semester.

“Now, class, today’s lesson will be about love potions. Over here, we have the most powerful love potion in the world. It’s called ‘Amortentia’. It’s made to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them. Now, Amortentia doesn’t create actual love as that would be impossible. But it does cause powerful infatuation or obsession. And for that reason alone, it is probably the most dangerous potion in this room.” He said as he closed the lid of the pot.

Soon enough, he instructs you to follow the book and use the recipe guides on how to create the potion. It took you two tries to brew the perfect potion which leaves Professor Slughorn to congratulate you on your successful attempt. However, before he scoops a small potion bottle full of the potion, he looks at you and asks with a smile.

“Tell me, Miss Y/N… What do you smell?” You stared at the pot in front of you before you tried to distinctly make out the scents.

“I smell… Sweat. Cherries. And...” You whispered that last scent only for Professor Slughorn to smile wider.

“Be careful with this potion. You do not want it to fall into the wrong hands.” He said, to which you nodded. However, as if on pure instinct, your eyes naturally flew over to the table across the room. Immediately, a familiar pair of eyes met yours.

Neither of you said or did anything so you were the first one to look away. Once class was dismissed, you saw Minho being the first to leave together with Jungwoo and two other Slytherin boys but you had no intention to chase after him anyway. You were halfway down the hallway when Changmin eagerly asked you what you smelled through the potion.

“It’s honestly a weird combination to be honest…”

“Really? What was it?”

“Sweat, cherries and... something. Like what even is that?”

“Hmm, maybe it’s not something but someone? Because for me, I smell strawberries, fresh sheets and roses which is what my girlfriend loves.” Kevin said, making you frown. This made you wonder as you made your way back to your common room. You knew something was off and so you had to find him.

A few hours passed, and you were having lunch in the Great Hall. You wouldn’t be having any class until an hour after lunch time ends. Some of your friends suggested hanging out at the quad but you already had a different plan in mind so you politely rejected them.

Minho on the other hand, was about the same as he too rejected his friends who asked if he wanted to go to the quidditch field and hangout there. He left the Great Hall and went straight towards the Slytherin tower. His mind was filled with you but he can’t bring himself to approach you for what he had in mind. So Minho starts strolling back to his common room with an empty mind.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally arrives inside the Slytherin’s common room. There wasn’t much he could do since he was nearly alone in the common room so he decided to head to his dorm room. Slytherin’s dorm room was slightly different from Gryffindor’s dorm room. Each student has their own small rooms which basically means they have their own privacy. Minho closed his room door quietly as he made his way to his bed and soon laid flat on it.

Few minutes later, he heard a soft rustle coming from across the room. He frowned as he whipped his head around thinking it was his pet cat.

“Dori?” He calls out softly only to receive silence in return. “Huh… That was weird.” Minho said as he got up to sit properly in bed with his back facing the wall. Right at that moment, a soft call of his name made him leap out of bed. He got a shock thinking it was one of the castle ghosts trying to scare him. The only thing was, the voice sounded very familiar to him.

“Hello? Who’s there?” Minho said as his eyes darted all around his room. He was halfway across the room, ready to bolt out when he saw flickers of a human figure starting to appear right by the door. He waited to see if his suspicions were true and it was.

Because the moment he saw your face start to lose its invisibility powers, he quickly ran to his door and locked it before turning to you with a frown.

“What in Filch’s name are you doing here?! Are you insane?” Minho asked in a loud whisper, clearly distraught.

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Can’t you wait till we’re in class?”

“This can’t wait.”

“And you thought sneaking into Slytherin’s common room was a good idea? What if someone saw you?”

“Nobody did. Don’t worry.” You said confidently. Minho stared at you quietly as he found this side of you attractive.

“So you’re suddenly okay with breaking the rules?” He asked, making you pout.

“I’m not proud of it, if that’s what you’re wondering.” You scoffed at him, earning a laugh from him. Minho stood in front of you about an arms length away. You were finally standing there in full flesh, potion effects had already worn off. His eyes began to travel down to scan you from head to toe as if he wanted to make sure you were physically here in his room. When his gaze finally found yours again, you took a while to regain your composure.

“Remember what we learned this morning during Potions class?” You asked.

“Yes?”

“What did you smell in the potion?” Your voice was hushed but it was loud enough for him to hear. You could see the way his eyes grew wide slightly for a brief second before he relaxed again.

“Earthy smell… Fresh soil… and… Roses.” He answered as he waited to see your response. But when you grew quiet, that’s when he asked, “What was yours?” Your eyes darted up to meet his, feeling like you were breaking out in cold sweat.

“I smelled… sweat, cherries and…” You paused as he stared at you in anticipation.

“And?”

You glanced down at your hands which were fiddling with your own fingers only to see him reach out to hold them in his hands. When he took a step closer and was now just a hand length away from you. Minho slips one hand around your waist to pull you closer until you naturally rest your hands on his torso. His other hand lets go of your hands only to reach up to gently hold your face.

You leaned into his touch, letting out a soft sigh while you did so. A small smile tugging on his lips as he leans in slightly to let his nose brush over yours.

“What was the last thing you smelled, Y/N?” His voice was so soft, it wasn’t the tone he has been using with you this entire six years of knowing him. Nevertheless, you slowly pulled back slightly to be able to look him in the eyes.

“Cedarwood.”

Immediately, his ears perked up upon hearing that. His favourite cologne scent was cedarwood and he would never go anywhere without spraying it on him. He brews the invisibility potion often and one of the key ingredients is cherries. Last but not least, he is a Seeker for Slytherin’s quidditch team which results in him sweating every time he plays the sport.

With this revelation and realization, Minho caressed your cheek with his thumb before he spoke up.

“Earthy smell because you’re a quidditch player. Fresh soil because you love Herbology. And roses because you often smelled like it.”

Your eyes were frantically darting back and forth between both of his eyes, unsure of what to say or do but he seemed to make your job easy. The minute he explained his theory, Minho spoke up again, “Do you like them?” He never specified a name of a person or an item but a person’s name did in fact pop into your mind the minute he asked you the question.

You nodded and so he continued, “You have a name in mind, don’t you?”

A soft nod was given as a response, only for him to answer, “I want you to say it aloud for me in the count of 3, can you do that?” You nodded yet again before he started to do a countdown.

“1… 2… 3.”

“You.”

Minho somehow knew what you were going to say, he just wasn’t prepared to hear it come out of your mouth. Nonetheless, he smiled at you as he caressed your cheek with his thumb and moved in to let his lips brush against yours. Minho wanted to ask you for permission but it seems like he was too impatient to wait a second longer so he pushed his head forward and the minute you locked lips, you felt like you were on cloud9.

Both of his hands made it to wrap themselves around your waist, cupping your sides easily in his hands. You glide your arms up his torso and to his chest, not to forget his shoulders and soon, his neck. He guided you to his bed while he carefully walked backwards. The minute he feels the back of his knees crashed into the side of his mattress, he plops onto his bed, pulling you down with him.

You ended up straddling his lap, cupping his head in your hands. He kissed you passionately without detaching his lips from yours for more than a second. His hands were now on your hips, gliding dangerously close to your rear. When he felt you pull back to breathe heavily, he took this as a sign to relax a bit.

Minho leans back in to let his lips brush over yours but never actually kissing you. He slides his hands up to rest them on your lower back while you play with his hair between your fingers. The room fell quiet as you closed your eyes, afraid to look at him.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He said softly.

“Mhm…”

Minho smiled as he kissed you sweetly for a few seconds before he pulled away and kept his lips right over yours so that you could feel his lips brushing yours when he spoke.

“I like you.” He whispered quietly to you. That’s when you finally opened your eyes to meet his own and saw how softly he was staring up at you. You gently caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, feeling him hug you closer to him only for you to smile.

“I like you too.” You said in response, earning a satisfied sound from him. He kissed you yet again. Maybe it’s not that bad to have feelings for your classmate who is someone you bicker a lot with yet have comfort in as well.

Looks like you’ve found the perfect guy to love and yet bicker with at the same time.

#stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #lee know x reader #lee know scenarios #skz minho fluff #skz minho x reader #skz lee know #hogwarts au

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ladamedusoif · 1 year

Text

Visiting - Chapter 5: This Must Be The Place

(Moodboard by the wonderful @cutesyscreenname)

Pairing: Professor!Ben (College AU) x OFC Lydia/fem!Reader (reader POV/2nd POV)

Summary: Seeking a change of scenery after her life falls apart, Lydia crosses the Atlantic and arrives in a small New England town, to spend a year expanding her intellectual horizons as a visiting professor of art history at a small liberal arts college. Her growing friendship with Ben Morales, professor of Hispanic literature, forces Lydia to confront the fallout from her past - and raises unexpected questions about the future.

Chapter summary: Lydia turns 42, parties with her colleagues - and now she knows for sure.

Word Count: 4.9k

Rating: Mature, will be Explicit in future chapters

Content (chapter specific): Professor Ben College AU; smaller-than-usual-for-this-fandom age gap (Lydia turns 42, and Ben is 47); canon is not a thing here; slow burn; strong language; alcohol consumption; weight and body insecurity; self-confidence issues; a little bit of angst; a lot of yearn.

A/N: Title of the chapter is taken from 'This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)' by Talking Heads, which features in the chapter. Further A/Ns after the chapter to avoid spoilers.

See the Series Masterlist for an outline of Lydia's story and background.

Thanks, as ever, to @lunapascal and @julesonrecord for screaming along about these Beloved Dorky Idiots and approving important fashion and music choices.

Taglist: @lunapascal, @julesonrecord, @cutesyscreenname, @tessa-quayle, @vermillionwinter, @iamskyereads, @tieronecrush, @perennialdoll247, @love-the-abyss, @imaswellkid, @intheorangebedroom, @javierisms, @fuckyeahdindjarin, @littlemisspascal, @khindahra, @pedrostories, @readingiskeepingmegoing

You knew for sure on your 42nd birthday.

It wasn’t anything dramatic that confirmed it. No great thunderclap or parting of the clouds to bathe him in a divine light. No diving in front of an errant student frisbee to protect you as you gazed up at him in adoration.

Then again, you were old enough to know that such dramatic realisations only existed in the movies, on TV, in books. The truth was that, though you felt (and sometimes acted on) immediate physical attraction, it was more usually a case of a small, glowing ember finding kindling in order to become a steady flame.

He was in your office for one of your routine afternoon coffees, and feeling a bit stressed and disheartened over a particularly poor batch of student assignments. He reached over for another butter cookie.

“It might be that mid-semester slump, but no matter how long I do this job I always feel like this is my fault.” He sighs. “Like I didn’t do enough with the preparation, or with tutorials, or that I made the assessment too difficult. You know what I mean?”

His soft, dark eyes look at you, seeking acknowledgment that he wasn’t alone - and a kind of reassurance.

“You have to know it’s not your fault, Ben. I know how many tutorials you did with them - and, if you’ll recall, how you were worried about the lack of uptake for the one-to-one sessions. That’s not on you.”

“I just wish I could shake the feeling that I could have done more.” He shakes his head and takes another bite of his cookie.

“I do know how you feel, you know? I do this too - it’s automatically my fault, no one else’s, I need to fix this, etc.” You smile at him. “In your case I think it’s because you’re a very good and conscientious tutor. And a good person.”

You feel your face heat a little, noticing that the tips of Ben’s ears have turned pink. He breaks away from your gaze for a moment.

“Thank you, Lyd. So are you.”

There’s a little crackle in the air. You speak before it becomes too strong.

“Anyway, this’ll cheer you up. Today, a student came into my office and just looked at me and said, ‘Alan??’”

His eyes widen and he starts to giggle. “Alan?!”

“ALAN.” You recount the rest of the story, recreating your confused facial expressions and the student’s mounting annoyance that you are not, in fact, Alan.

“So then I said: what’s Alan’s surname, I could look like them up? And the student says: I dunno?”

At this, Ben laughs so hard that he sends his glasses flying off his face, landing somewhere at the bottom of your desk. He doesn’t seem to notice at first, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

“Fuck, Lyddie, I definitely didn’t laugh this much at work before.”

You do a little bow from your desk chair and sip your coffee triumphantly. “Said it would cheer you up. Uh - since when did the staff lounge coffee taste this good?”

He sits back down, having recovered his glasses from the floor. His expression is a little hesitant.

“Well, the thing is - it’s not staff lounge coffee. I - god, I’m a cliche - I bought an Aeropress. And this is the first batch I’ve made in work, and I thought…” He looks at you and half-smiles, a little twinkle in his eyes. “I thought you shouldn’t have shitty staff lounge coffee on your birthday.”

Oh, wow. This soft, kind man.

“That’s such a nice thing to do. And - how did you know it was my birthday?”

Ben’s eyes widen and his expression shifts to one of panic. “Ohhhh, shit.”

“You better not tell me you track our birthdays.”

He huffs a laugh. “Do you think I’m organised enough for that?? No, it’s - shit. I shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t tell Evan.”

“Tell Evan what, exactly?”

“He’s planning to bring you out for birthday drinks at the weekend. Nothing fancy!” He holds up a hand, as if to reassure you. “Just some drinks at Murphy’s, maybe some dancing? You know their jukebox is pretty good.”

You widen your eyes and nod in agreement. “They’ve got the tunes, alright.”

He grins. “Well, that’s the plan. But I think Evan wants to surprise you with the invite. So… maybe work on that, reaction-wise?”

You do your best “surprised and touched” face. Ben chuckles.

“Perfect.”

He’s got a class to get to, so he says his goodbyes and heads off down the hallway, greeting a group of students with a little wave.

The glass panel in your office door frames his broad body as he walks away, an empty coffee mug in each hand. You watch the way his navy pullover fits just so over his shoulders, the way his rolled-up sleeves make visible the muscles of his forearms, flexing as he carries the mugs. You smile involuntarily when he reaches his office door and turns to open it: if you were being honest with yourself, you’d been quietly admiring that handsome profile for a while now, ever since you really noticed it for the first time that day at the beach.

It would be easy to insist to yourself that Ben Morales was simply a good friend who happened to be nice to look at, and nothing more.

The problem, though, was the way you were suffused with warmth and affection when you looked at him - and the yearning ache in your chest that occurred simultaneously.

So now, you knew. 42 years old, far from home, and trying to deal with having the kind of feelings for someone you swore you’d never have again.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Now let us in, we’re jonesing for some champagne.”

Evan is first through your apartment door, brandishing a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and wearing a leather jacket over a wildly patterned shirt. David and Ani follow close behind, both embracing you in turn.

“Cass was hoping to get up this weekend but she’s stuck in work,” Ani explains, looking around your apartment. “Where’s Ben?”

You feel the familiar twinge in your chest. “Virtual conference,” you explain as you head into the kitchen to retrieve some glasses. “Said he’ll meet us at Murphy’s once he’s done.”

Evan opens the champagne with a dramatic flourish, taking off his leather jacket as he pours the fizz into the crappy wine glasses that came with the apartment. He eyes them up with disdain. “Feels wrong to put Veuve Clicquot in these.”

You raise an eyebrow accusingly. “I have vintage champagne coupes at home. In any case - I won’t take advice from a man wearing that shirt.”

“This is an exact replica of the shirt Leo wore in Romeo + Juliet and you will respect that,” Evan whips back as he hands you a glass of champagne. “Happy birthday love youuuuuu!”

David and Ani join in the toast. “To Lyd, queen of obscure film facts, tote bags, and the messiest office I’ve ever seen,” Ani pronounces. “Happy forty-fucking-second birthday.”

You roll your eyes and grimace. “And I’m looking every single one of those years. Cheers.”

David shakes his head while Ani tells you off. “You shut the fuck up, you beautiful baby-faced creature.”

You take a sip, and close your eyes as the bubbles of the champagne burst deliciously on your tongue.

Murphy’s is a pretty standard small-town dive bar with a distinctly above-average jukebox and playlist. It’s the preferred drinking hole for staff, mostly because the majority of the student body have deemed its usual crowd “too old”. Evan has extended a pretty open invitation, by the looks of things - most of the clientele that Saturday night are colleagues from the faculty. Some wave cheerfully in your direction, mouthing “Happy birthday!”; others come over to say hi and offer to buy you a birthday drink. It’s a nice reminder of the warmth of the welcome you’ve had here.

You are having a nice time: sipping your vodka tonic, bopping gently to the eclectic mix of everything from classic 50s rock and roll to indie and grunge hits from the 1990s that’s playing on the bar’s sound system, chatting to colleagues. It’s nice. But you keep watching the door, waiting for him, wondering at times if he’ll show at all.

He doesn’t owe you anything. Conferences are tiring. Maybe he needed an early night.

Maybe you miss him when he’s not around.

You’re talking animatedly to Jen’s wife, Rachel (who is as stunning as Ani had insisted), when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! Panels ran over and then I couldn’t get a cab and then I took my bike and - anyway. Here now. Happy birthday, Lyddie.”

Ben pulls you in for a warm embrace. You fight to suppress the urge to really lean in: to hold your cheek a little longer against the softness of the check flannel he’s wearing, to linger in the comforting warmth emanating from his solid frame.

But you pull away. “No worries! I’m just really glad you’re here.”

Bit much?

He tilts his head slightly to the side and smiles at you. “Wouldn’t have missed it for anything. Not when I’ve got the chance to see your moves out there.” He nods in the direction of the ‘dancefloor’, a small, cleared space located near the back of the bar, before turning back and winking at you.

Fuck.

“Dude, it’s been a long time. I suspect I don’t have any moves any more.”

He looks sceptical. “Hmm. Let’s see about that. But first - let me buy you a birthday drink.”

You stare in the bathroom mirror at your reflection as you tidy your hair a little and reapply your favourite lipstick, the vivid red of MAC’s Lady Danger popping against your skin.

Forty-fucking-two. It’s probably the vodka and tonics, or maybe just the buzz of the bar and your colleagues and friends having a good time, but - for once in your life - you find yourself thinking you might look…not bad? You’re wearing a soft blue denim blouse and black jeans, teamed with a pair of bright red cowboy-style ankle boots that exactly match your lipstick. Red drop earrings and a bright necklace complete the look.

As long as you didn’t concentrate on the greying strands of hair, or the perpetually tired look on your face, of course. And you couldn’t see all of your body in the small mirror - a bonus.

But that was for Tomorrow Lydia to deal with. For now, you were enjoying yourself.

As you blot your lipstick, you hear the opening chords of an upbeat, familiar slice of power pop:

I want you to want me

I need you to need me

“Fucking Cheap Trick! YES!”

You fling open the door to the bathroom, already bopping slightly in time to the music. Nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greets you on the tiny ‘dancefloor’.

It’s Ben.

Ben, dancing, with Susan, the usually no-nonsense faculty administrator.

And not just the half-hearted shuffling or pogoing you’ve usually witnessed from men of your generation, either. He’s pretty good: moving with Susan in a sort of loose jive, perfectly in time, occasionally twirling her under as she giggles like a teenager rather than a woman in her late fifties. And he’s clearly having a whale of a time, too, his unmistakable grin wide and enthusiastic as he mouths along to the song.

It’s all you can do not to let your mouth drop open in astonishment as you hustle over to the bar to join Evan, David, and Ani.

“Um…what the fuck is happening??” You ask, tilting your head towards the dancefloor.

Evan chuckles. “Oh, that. Yeah, Ben has some moves, believe it or not.”

Ani nods in agreement. “Susan’s husband is a sweet man but he fuckin’ hates dancing. So he fully endorses the idea of our Benjamin Button over there getting Susan’s dance fever out of her system, so he never has to bother.”

Evan leans his head to one side, thinking for a moment. “Normally we only see this kind of dancing at the holiday social at the end of the semester, and even then after a wine or two - and he’s not drinking at all tonight. So something’s put him in a really good mood.”

“He’s not drinking?” you ask, curious in spite of yourself.

“He said something about ‘being in charge of a vehicle’,” David explains. “His bike, I think.”

Ani sips their drink. “You’re right, though, Ev. He’s always been a happy sort of guy but of late? He’s sunshine personified. He’s even less stressed when the copier eats his handouts.” They suck at the inside of their cheek. “I don’t know what’s changed.”

You become conscious of a petite blonde woman standing on the fringes of the group but who’s clearly been listening attentively to the conversation. It’s not that you don’t like Amy, Susan’s second-in-command in the faculty administration office. She’s just…a lot. And her penchant for gossip, however wildly inaccurate, was notorious.

She turns to face the rest of you, a look in her eyes that screams “gossip incoming”.

“Ooooh, guys… what if he’s finally met someone?? Makes sense, right??”

David’s eyebrows shoot up over the frames of his glasses and he takes a large sip of his whiskey soda.

Ani scoffs. “Bit of a fucking leap, Amy, no? All the time we’ve been here and never known there to be the slightest suggestion of him seeing anyone seriously - he’s like the ‘married to the job’ cliche. And now you think that’s why he’s so happy lately? Some mystery new person?”

Amy looks put out. “Think about that statement, Ani. It’s been ages, there’s no other obvious explanation, therefore I call Benny’s getting coupled up!!!!!” She sucks at her rum and coke gleefully, eyes wide and excited. “Oh my GOD I wonder who it is? Do you think it’s someone on campus? I mean, where else do you guys meet anyone, hahaha! And he’s so hard-working and committed. Maybe I can ask Susan and find out if she’s seen him hanging out with anyone in particular. Or maybe if he’s been out of town more, y’know? Oooh, exciting! I love a good romance!”

She swans off in the direction of her table as the song winds to a close.

Fuck. Too late, as usual, Lyd. As if you ever stood a chance to begin with.

You notice David trying to catch your eye, but you turn to the bar and signal to the bartender. “Hey, who wants tequila shots?”

You down a shot with Evan and Ani, eyes scrunching up as you suck the lime wedge and try to halt your crazy train of thought. It’s a familiar melody of guitar, bass, and keyboard that eventually distracts you, though, as the opening bars of “This Must Be The Place” by Talking Heads float from the bar’s sound system.

You gleefully tap Evan on the arm and start to shimmy in place, still facing the bar. “Fuuuuuck, man! I love this song! C’mon, let’s go dance.”

Evan’s gaze is trained on the dancefloor. “Much as I’d like to, babygirl, I think your dance card has already been filled for this one.” He nods and points behind you.

All you can do is laugh. Ben, having clearly noticed your excited reaction to the song, is moving towards you, hips swaying in time to the music, and making a cheesy “reeling you in” gesture with the dorkiest of smiles on his face.

“Time to see those moves, birthday girl!”

Evan gives you a shove, sending you almost colliding with Ben’s broad chest. You force the awkward thoughts and feelings down deep inside you.

“Well, seeing as I’ve just learned that you have moves, sir, I guess I should see them up close.”

He grins and pulls you to the floor proper.

Even with the help of the cheap tequila, you are a little stiff for the first few moments, exposed and unsure of yourself as you try to keep moving in time to the rhythm without giving away everything that was racing through your mind.

Ben’s dark eyes are warm and bright as he mouths along to the lyrics and takes your hand, gently encouraging you to let go and relax a little more:

Feet on the ground, head in the sky

It’s okay, I know nothing’s wrong

You feel your body locking into the rhythm with his. A genuine smile creeps over your face as the song enters the first chorus and you both join in with David Byrne’s vocal. He takes both your hands during the next instrumental, pulling you in a little more.

You lean in close to his ear, keeping up the rhythm but not letting go of his big, warm hands. “I love this song so much, but I’ve never actually got to dance to it before - this is so cool!”

He smiles softly and leans close in turn. “Well, now I’m really glad I got to make that happen.” He lets go of one hand and puts his arm around your waist, bringing you into a more traditional dance hold. “Happy birthday, Lyddie.”

Deep down, there’s a tiny voice inside you that wonders whether he’d do this - dance with you, like this - if he was actually dating anyone else. But then you remember how open he can be with friends, and you tell yourself it’s just one friend dancing with another.

He twirls you in and out as the song enters the final chorus. For a moment, you let yourself slip into an unspoken, unrequited romantic fantasy as you sing along together, smiling and eyes shining:

And you love me til my heart stops

Love me til I’m dead

In that moment, where you allow yourself to imagine this as real, as something that could be, you feel happier than you have in years.

Closing time rolls around. Ani and Evan are tapping on their phones to arrange cabs, and you’re pulling your coat on and chatting to David when Ben approaches, bike helmet in one hand and a little kraft paper gift bag in the other.

“Lyddie, can I -”

“BENJAMIN!” He’s interrupted by the arrival of Amy, three sheets to the wind, and clearly hellbent on proving her theory right. “I need to talk to YOU about your secret.”

Ben’s eyes widen as he stutters in response. You make an executive decision. Dumb and all as this might be, you are not going to hang around to hear him say the words, to confirm that he’s taken.

“Oh man, really need to go to the bathroom before I go okay yeah see you in a few?”

You lock yourself in a cubicle and try really hard not to cry.

“Amy, I was in the middle of talking to Lydia and -”

Amy rolls her eyes dramatically. “Pfffft. This is more important. Now: who are they?”

David closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and exhales. Ben looks completely confused.

“Who’s who, Amy?” His eyes continue to search the back of the bar, trying to spot you when you’ll eventually emerge from the bathroom.

“Don’t play coy with me, Professor Morales. You’re like a new man lately. So - who’s responsible? Who’s the lucky person?”

The penny finally drops. “Amy, do you… are you asking me… do you think I’m seeing someone?”

Amy jabs a finger at his chest triumphantly. “Aha!”

“I’m not… seeing anyone. Okay?” He tries to break away from Amy and nabs Ani as they’re walking past. “Where the fuck is Lyd, Ani?”

“Jeez, calm down, dude. What the fuck? Give her a Benjaminute. She’s in the bathroom.”

Amy reappears at Ben’s side. “I don’t believe you.”

He’s a patient man, usually. But this shit, coupled with the way you disappeared all of a sudden? He’s done.

“Amy - so help me god, I’m not with anyone or fucking seeing anyone. Okay? I’ll send a newsletter update if it ever happens. Now, please - where the hell did she go?”

He finally gets you alone - kind of - outside the bar, while you’re waiting for cabs to show up.

Your imagination ran riot while you were on your own in the bathroom stall. But you’d concluded that this was for the best, one way or another. Better that he wasn’t available. Better that he wasn’t interested. Better that you just resisted what you felt. Better that you were just here for the year.

Everything you ever touched, relationship-wise, turned to shit. You couldn’t do that to Ben - even if a man like him would ever want a woman like you.

“Lyd?” He’s quiet, eyes searching yours for an explanation as to why you fled when he approached earlier.

You smile up at him, hoping the redness around your eyes doesn’t show too much. “Hey. Sorry about earlier, I just - didn’t want to get stuck on the way home.” You pull a goofy face to try to lighten the mood, and he smiles gently, but can’t help but shake the feeling you’re being a little stand-offish with him.

“Just wanted to give you this.” He hands you the little gift bag. “Don’t get excited, it’s a really small gift! But I saw it and thought of you.”

In a rom-com, he’d meet your gaze, trail a thumb across your cheek, and lean in for a soft, chaste kiss. Or you’d catch his hand, look up at him through your lashes, and press your lips to his.

On a cold November night in New England, though, it’s just you smiling and thanking him profusely while trying not to cry. Or to kiss him in front of everyone.

“You okay, Lyddie?”

You nod. “I probably shouldn’t have done the tequila shots earlier. Just a bit woozy and tired now, I guess.” You look down at the pavement, and back up to his handsome face. “Thank you so much. This means a lot.”

He leans forward and for a split second you dare to hope. To no avail. A tiny, soft kiss to the cheek.

“Happy birthday.”

Ben cycles off, bike lights bright in the darkness, and you hop in a cab with Evan and David. Evan sits up front, while David sits in the back with you. He sees the way that you hold the little gift bag in your lap, and notices the pervasive sadness in your body language and expression.

“Hey, Evan?” he prompts his boyfriend. “Who was that crazy blonde lady that kept harassing Ben about his personal life?”

You can almost hear Evan rolling his eyes. “Fucking Amy. She’s fine, most of the time, but once she’s convinced of something - hoo, boy. Dog with a bone.”

David turns to you, a somewhat knowing look on his face. “When you were in the bathroom she accosted Ben about her conviction that he’s got some sort of secret partner and that’s why he's been so cheery lately.”

You fight to keep your expression neutral. Does he suspect something?

“Oh, okay. I heard her theorising it earlier on.”

Evan continues ranting. “He TOLD her, he wasn’t with anyone? Like, if he was seeing anyone or interested in anyone I would know. I would be able to tell.”

David reaffirms the key detail. “So he did say he wasn’t seeing anyone?”

Evan scoffs. “Babe, you were there. He said he wasn’t and then he got pissed off because he couldn’t find Lyd.”

David turns to you with a little smile on his face, and shrugs gently, as if to say: “See?”

You wipe off your makeup in the harsh light of your tiny bathroom, the fluorescent glare seeming designed to highlight every grey hair, every wrinkle, every trace of ageing. The confident woman in her bright red lipstick has been replaced by someone else entirely.

You put on a fresh pair of pyjamas, and climb into bed. In many ways, it had been a really great night. It’s just that you had to go catching feelings for him, and now everything was being filtered through that lens.

David had been trying to make it clear to you that Amy’s fantasy was bullshit, that much was obvious. But if Ben wasn’t seeing anyone, and if he was so keen to dance with you and laugh at your jokes and give you gifts, then why didn’t he try even the slightest thing with you? There was only one conclusion: he wasn’t interested.

It’s better this way.

The little brown gift bag catches your eye, sitting patiently on the nightstand for you to finally open it. You take a deep breath and reach over for it.

The bag contains two packages and a card, addressed to “Lyddie” in Ben’s distinctive handwriting. Card first.

“Fuck me, you’re such a dork.”

The card features a Venn diagram of three intersecting circles, one marked ‘Life’, the other ‘Universe’, and the third ‘Everything’. Little drawings of a potted plant, a whale, and the planets surround the number ‘42’ at the centre of the diagram.

You giggle in spite of yourself. You could have bet that Ben Morales would give you a Hitchhiker’s Guide To the Galaxy-themed card for being 42.

To Lyddie

Wishing you a very happy birthday - now, you are the answer to the Ultimate Question.

PS Explanatory post-its on gifts

“Explanatory post-its? Such a dork,” you whisper to yourself as you reach for the little packages.

The first parcel’s note reads:

I saw that you had a few of these in your office. Thought you might like a memento from here. Can also provide useful symbolic film prop. Rosebud!

You open the wrapping paper carefully to reveal a small cardboard box. Inside, there’s a miniature snow globe in lurid colours, a kitschy souvenir of the fading resort town near the Barrow College beach house on the coast.

You turn it upside down, gently, and watch the light catching the glitter as it settles slowly over the old boardwalk and ferris wheel inside.

The second package is, unmistakably, a DVD. This time, the note reads:

If you get inspired and make a timpano sometime, I’ll be there.

It’s a copy of Big Night.

Ben Morales cycles up to his garage door and wheels his bike inside, carefully removing the front and rear lights (two each - he knows one isn’t enough at this time of year) and placing them on a shelf along with his bike helmet and reflective armbands.

The garage is separate to his house, which he bought a year or two after he got the job in Barrow. His siblings were surprised at the time, expecting him to just buy a decently-sized apartment rather than an entire house, but once he’d seen it he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

He’s lived alone for a very long time, so he’s used to returning to an empty home. It feels emptier than usual tonight, though: the quiet weighs heavier, and the fact that he’s on his own seems more obvious. Must be after the bar, he guesses. All that noise and music and conversation. Of course the house would seem lonely after that.

He thinks about putting on a movie, but - unusually for him - he can’t think of anything he’d like to watch. He pours himself a small glass of whiskey, sipping from it as he scans his shelves of records until he finds the one he’s looking for. He slips the vinyl from the cover and places it on the turntable, propping up the record’s brightly-coloured slipcase against the wall.

He’s about to drop the needle on the final track on side 2 when his phone buzzes on the dining table. It’s a message from Ani, sent to a group chat you’d set up for your closest work friends, and they’ve attached some photos from tonight.

Ben starts the record going and gently drops the needle in the right place. As the familiar melody plays from his speakers, he settles himself and his glass of whiskey in a chair and opens up the pictures.

You, sipping champagne at home while making a face at Evan’s lurid shirt. David and Ani sticking their fingers up to the camera, evidently caught unawares by Evan. Evan reenacting various poses from Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet (Ben knew the shirt seemed familiar). Ani and you dancing, back to back, arms flung in the air and joy written all over your faces.

One of you, big eyes shining and red lipstick immaculate, wearing a hairband that proclaims “IT IS MY BIRTHDAY” and holding a cupcake with a single candle in it. He can tell you’re trying not to laugh. He wonders if it would be weird of him to save it.

Him, “reeling you in” for a dance. “Fuuuuuck,” he grimaces, sipping more whiskey as he cringes at himself. And then you and him, dancing, first at a slight distance, then hand in hand, then -

The music triggers the memory of his hand in yours, an arm around you, and the smile on your face.

I can’t tell one from the other

Did I find you, or you find me?

Maybe he should say something to you.

Another message. You, this time. A photo of what he presumes is your nightstand, with the snow globe, Big Night DVD, and card on display.

LYDIA: I LOVE them so much. I don’t know how you remembered the movie and the snow globe is perfect. I promise not to drop it unless for dramatic and cinematic purposes as determined by Orson Welles.

Another message.

LYDIA: Really, such thoughtful gifts. I’m so touched. L.

The song ends. Ben takes a last sip of his whiskey.

Maybe he should just tell you.

(bookshelf divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more; other dividers by @cafekitsune)

Further A/Ns: For those unfamiliar with Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, 42 is the answer to the "ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything."

This is the card Ben gets for Lydia.

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