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marvelouspeterparker · 4 years

Text

professor’s sweetheart

pairing: professor!tom holland x student!reader

summary: professor holland teaches british literature at your university. you hadn’t expected much when you signed up for the course, but the experience is everything and more than you could have hoped for.

word count: 15.1k

warnings: there is smut in here but it’s not the main focus (wild, i know)

notes: uh yeah i’d say just don’t fuck your professor? this is purely fictional. be safe, you know how it is <3

also she wrote a professor!harry styles fic, but if i hadn’t read that (over and over) i probably wouldn’t have been inspired to write this. so check out @songbirdstyles !

i listened to this playlist while writing it if ur interested :)

give me feedback please!!

“What class do you have next?” Your friend, and roommate Liz asked. You were both walking out of the cafeteria. It was 1:15, you had just finished lunch and you had fifteen minutes until your next class. You pushed the doors open together and braced yourselves as the cool late September breeze hit you, blowing your jackets open. You put both sides of the jacket together in front of you and crossed your arms to block the cold out.

“Um,” you thought back for a moment, the cold temporarily knocking your senses right out of you. “British Literature.”

If you were being honest, you had taken this course because it fulfilled one of your requirements, but in the end it felt like one of the most rewarding parts of your college experience so far. The material was interesting, and instead of being bored out of your mind throughout the whole hour and a half of class––it was actually entertaining. You had your professor to thank for that.

“Oooh,” Liz twisted her lips to the side to suppress a knowing smile, but the look in her eyes gave it away. “With Professor Holland?” She asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.

You rolled your eyes and bit your tongue to hide your smile. “Yes,” you shoved her playfully to the side making her step in a pile of leaves, the crunch under boots loud as ever as it carried through the crisp air. “Shut up.”

You and Liz had been roommates since your first year at university and had now spent four, coming up on five semesters rooming together. Luckily, you really hit it off, and easily fell into a routine together, forming a bond as you ate lunch and dinner together, studied in the library, had dance parties in your dorm, and more. You knew each other inside and out, often having random late night conversations while you procrastinated your work or couldn’t sleep, about literally anything and everything. Bottom line is, you trusted each other, which is why she knew about your sort-of-crush on Professor Holland.

To be fair everyone had a thing for him, he was just that kind of guy. He was sweet and compassionate and funny. Professor Holland was one of those genuine professors who sincerely cared about their students and their well-beings. He was incredibly understanding. He’d schedule dozens of meetings with his students all in one day just because he wanted to help and make sure they were all alright. He liked to check in every now and then, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

From what you could tell he also seemed like a people person. No matter who he was with, whether it was a student, his teaching assistant Jacob, or his fellow professors––he was always attentive, cracking jokes, enjoying the conversation. Everyone seemed to love him. But you could also tell that a part of him was just a tad bit cocky, but in a joking and love-able way.

All this goes to show that you spent way too much time thinking about him, and observing him, which could either be seen as really endearing or really creepy.

“Look I’m just saying,” Liz shrugged, “Enjoy the class.” She nudged you, “I know I would.”

Realizing you were approaching the writing and arts center, and Liz’s next class was in the building across the street, you sent her off. “Yeah yeah, okay. Bye.” You tightened your arms around you and scurried off, skipping a crack in the sidewalk and walking up the steps to the building. You opened the door and were immediately welcomed by a rush of warm air and let out a sigh, rubbing your hands together as you made your way to the lecture hall.

You pulled your phone out and checked the time, 1:22. You still had 8 minutes to spare. You were still walking and only glanced up from your phone right as you were about to walk into the door and were stopped suddenly when you crashed into a hard chest. You immediately felt two warm hands grasp your arms to steady you and were suddenly enveloped by the smell of tea and mint.

“Woah! I’m sorry, love, are you alright?”

You froze as you looked up, feeling very much like a deer in headlights as you realized you quite literally crashed into your professor. “Oh––um,” you swallowed, suddenly feeling like the air was escaping you. You cleared your throat trying to save yourself from anymore embarrassment. “I’m fine––I’m sorry, that was my fault. I wasn’t looking––” You paused when you noticed the small smile on his face, his warm eyes making you forget what you were going to say.

“It’s alright, Y/N. It was partially my fault as well, I was too focused on––” he seemed to snap out of some trance, straightening himself up as his hands dropped back down to his sides and into his pockets. “Uh, well that’s not important.” He pulled one hand out of his pocket––he was wearing those blue slacks that you thought made his thighs look great, respectfully, of course. He checked the time on his watch and you had to stop yourself from ogling the veins in his arms as he did so.

He looked up at you, brows furrowed playfully and you actually had to remind yourself to breathe. “You’re almost ten minutes early. You that eager to see me?” He ended his question with a teasing smirk and your mouth opened and closed a few times before you managed to string together a response.

“I––um, I just really like this class and you––you’re my favorite professor.” You blurted out, your cheeks heating up as you realized what you just admitted. You had to force your eyes to go back to their normal size after they practically bulged at the realization of what you said. “And I mean, I just happened to get here early so...I thought I might as well get settled in.”

Your professor cleared his throat, trying to hide his smile as he glanced down at his shoes for a moment then back up at you. “Well then.” He extended his arm, pointing towards the open door of the hall and stepped aside. “Please, after you.”

You gave him a small smile in return along with a quiet thank you and stepped through the door. But before you could walk over to your seat, you felt him lean over behind you to talk lowly in your ear. He was standing a respectably close distance, but his presence was so overwhelming it was as though you felt him everywhere. His breath caressed the smooth skin of your cheek as he spoke.

“I’m technically not allowed to have favorites, but I do appreciate that you enjoy having me as your professor, darling.” It shouldn’t have had such an effect on you, really, it shouldn’t have. But something about him referring to himself by his title really did something to you. You took a sharp inhale as you stood up straight, your whole body on high alert as you turned your head towards him, your eyes refusing to look at his and instead finding solace in the fabric of his navy blue button up––which he’d rolled up to his forearms.

“And if it means anything, I rather do enjoy having you in my class as well.” You snuck a peek at him, lifting your gaze slowly and only caught a glimpse of his soft lips as he smiled before walking over to his desk.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you walked up the steps to your usual spot in the middle row, near the aisle. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, and the man hadn’t even touched you––well not in the way you wanted him to, anyway. But enough of that.

You checked your phone again, trying to calm down your heartbeat as you took in a deep breath, 1:28. People started shuffling into the class, the overlapping sounds of chatter and laughter rupturing the energy the room had when it was just the two of you. At 1:32 Professor Holland started the class, getting everyone’s attention smoother than anyone should be able to. You could almost feel everyone’s eyes focusing on him, some weren’t even listening to him, they were just so entranced by how good he looked and the way he sounded––his accent was just so endearing, you had to admit it.

The hour and a half went by rather quickly but today you were more aware of yourself, of Professor Holland––even more than usual. It seemed as though his eyes would travel to your direction more often, after he made jokes as if to see your reaction, or while he paused in his speeches.

At the end of the class, despite there being dozens of other students moving around you, you felt as though your professor was watching you as you made your way out of the room. But it had to be your imagination, there was just no way.

When you got back to your dorm, Liz still wasn’t back yet so you decided to take a shower and spend some time relaxing. You had already done your work for the next day and your other work for the rest of the week––well, you decided you’d do it later.

You changed into sweats after your shower and hopped on your bed, deciding to switch between your apps for an hour or so––honestly you’d lost track of time. Liz strolled in soon after, closing the door with a loud groan, throwing her bag on the floor.

You smiled, looking up at her from your lying position on the bed. “Hello to you too.”

She grumbled in response, finally looking at you. When she noticed you were already wearing your pajamas she pointed to you, her brows raised. “Good idea!” She immediately went to her drawers and picked out a random pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt, changing with lightning speed for someone who was sluggishly groaning not even a minute before.

She grabbed her phone and sat on her bed opposite yours, cross-legged, facing you. She looked at your face for a few seconds before squinting her eyes at you. “You have something to say. Spill.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face.

She looked at you pointedly, “Well go on.”

So you told her about your encounter with the infamous brit today, how you bumped into him, what he said to you, the glances he sent your way. When you finished recounting everything you took a deep breath, “But––this could all just be in my head you know, just me overreacting.”

She stared at you with a dead expression. “Are you fucking dumb?”

“Hey!”

She ignored you, rolling her eyes while she tried not to laugh. “Dude he totally wants to fuck you.” She said nonchalantly.

Your eyes bulged, “W–What do you––What?”

“Oh please, it’s so obvious.”

You opened your mouth but when nothing came out, you paused and looked down at the carpet. After a few moments you looked back up at her to find her with a knowing smirk on her face. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am, when am I not?” When you were about to speak, she interrupted you. “Don’t answer that. But look, it seems like he’s into you. I think you should hit that.”

“But we––that’s not allowed!” You paused, “Is it?”

She laughed, “A ha! So you do want to!”

“Oh shut up, you already knew that. Everyone wants to, it’s not a big deal.”

She made a face, “Yes, but you’re the only one who actually has a chance at getting it.”

You looked at her, a skeptical look on your face. “Even if that was true––he’s still my professor…”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah but it’s not like it’s in the handbook or anything. Plus, you’re both legal adults, so. There you have it. You’re free to bone.”

“You did not just say that.”

“But I did.” She smiled, lying down in her bed. “You really could, though. Just don’t tell anybody.” When you didn’t say anything else, she spoke up. “Okay I’m gonna take a nap now. You have a lot to think about.”

You ignored the last part and went back to your phone, “Yeah you do that.”

Throughout the rest of the afternoon and night you couldn’t stop thinking about this whole situation. This was bad...Or was it? It seemed all too complicated, that was for sure. You weren’t even sure he looked at you or thought of you that way.

You fell asleep playing all the pros and cons of hypothetically getting with him, your mind an endless loop of your professor, his voice, how he sounded when he practically whispered that he liked being your teacher. This was all too much.

❊❊❊❊

All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. The tongue, teeth and lips following and leaving marks everywhere the hands traced. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure. Your eyes locked in on the ones staring up at you with pure hunger and awe as you ground yourself down on his cock.

“That’s it darling, just like that. You’re doing so good for me.” His lips curved into that oh so familiar smirk. “I taught you well, didn’t I?”

You woke up sweaty, your shirt sticking to your torso, a wet patch on your panties, your nipples pebbled in the cool air of your dorm room. A sex dream. Of course you had a fucking sex dream about him. Fuck. You were just lucky that your next class with him was on Thursday so you didn’t have to see him today. Because that would not help you at all.

You checked the time on your phone, squinting at the brightness before turning it all the way down, 10am. You got out of bed with a groan and took your toiletries bag and your towel to the bathroom, deciding to take a shower this morning, instead of later on at night. Lord knows you certainly needed one. A cold one too.

You were frustrated, frustrated with yourself for feeling this way about your professor––sure, he was only a few years older than you, but it was the principle of the matter––frustrated that you were overthinking this entire thing, and most importantly you were annoyed because you were extremely horny.

When you got into the bathroom, you locked the door and set your stuff down. You put your hands on both sides of the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror. Who are we and what happened? You sighed and grabbed your toothbrush, brushing your teeth quickly and aggressively, since everything seemed to be a hassle this morning. You’d hoped that once you hopped in the shower, you’d calm down.

When you made your way inside, you sighed contently at the feeling of the warm water pattering against your skin, freshening you up immediately. Your nipples were still hard, between your legs still wet. So you brought a hand down between your thighs, the other to your breast as you stood under the water––almost as though the water was washing away the sinful act and thoughts right at the source. You laughed at the thought, nope, nothing can wash this away.

You squeezed your breast and tugged at your nipple, rubbing your sensitive bud just the way you liked. You were still sensitive from...your dream, so it didn’t take long for everything to build up. You couldn’t help yourself, your mind brought back the remnants of last night that you remembered, the way his hands gripped you when he steadied you, the way his arms looked, and you came with a whimper that was louder than you would have liked. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and resting your head back on the tiles as the water continued to fall on you.

When you came back to your dorm, Liz was on her way out but she stopped, raising her brows at you, “So have you come to a conclusion?”

You walked past her into the dorm, “Go to class, Liz.” You heard her cackle down the hallway as you closed the door.

You got dressed casually, not rushing since there was nowhere for you to go and decided to go to the local cafe near the school. You needed to clear your head and get some work done, and you definitely would not get any of it done in your dorm. Not today, anyway.

You checked the weather and seeing that it was a little warmer today, you put a sweatshirt on, grabbed your bag along with your phone and your laptop and you were on your way. The breeze felt refreshing this morning as you stepped out of your dorm. Your walk to the cafe was only ten or so minutes but it felt good.

Stepping into the little shop, you were immediately hit by the aroma of coffee and sweets, surrounded by the sound of light chatter and utensils clattering on the wooden tables. The warm light above you brought a sense of comfort as you made your way over to the counter. The line was rather short so you managed to order your usual drink and snack quickly. As you were waiting for the cashier to hand you your things, your eyes scanned the shop––the ambience was rather nice and the talking almost felt like background noises. You wouldn’t mind staying here to work.

As you gathered your things, you turned around in search of a free table––which would be the deciding factor in whether or not you would stay, you did not want to awkwardly share the small table space with some stranger. You took a few steps into the seating area and almost choked on your breath when you made eye contact with the last person you wanted to see today.

He smiled charmingly at you, teeth and all and quickly made his way over before you even had a chance to think of escaping. “Y/N!” He stood in front of you, his eyes bright. He was actually happy to see you? He was always happy to see everyone, it didn’t mean anything.

His voice snapped you out of your annoyingly loud thoughts. “Fancy seeing you here.” He nudged you playfully, “How are you?” He was wearing a very tight white button up that was unbuttoned until the third, showing a generous amount of his chest, a grey suit and pants, along with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. It took you a few more seconds than it should have to process that there were actual words coming out of his mouth.

You forced a smile onto your face but the more you looked into his eyes, the more genuine it became, almost impossible to wipe off. “I’m good. Was just grabbing breakfast before I start my work. You?”

He raised his cup, “Same as you. Have a bit of time before my next class.”

You noticed that you couldn’t tell what exactly was in the cup and your curiosity got the better of you. You pointed to the cup clasped in his fingers, “Is that coffee?”

He furrowed his brows in mock offense, “I only drink tea, darling.” He leaned his upper body forward to whisper to you, his cheek almost touching yours, “I’d think you would know that about your favorite professor.” He tutted playfully as he stood up straight again, watching you, a look that you couldn’t quite pinpoint in his eyes as he watched you over his cup, taking a teasingly long sip.

You looked up at him, your mouth slightly open, not a clue what to respond. When he pulled the cup away from his mouth he looked down at you, his gaze drifting down and you’d never felt more exposed, despite the fact that you were wearing two layers of clothing. “I like your sweatshirt.” He smiled, glancing down at it before looking directly into your eyes, his head lowered slightly.

Your eyes widened in surprise and your head snapped down to see your spiderman sweatshirt looking back at you boldly. Oh––Oh. You lifted your head back up to find him still smiling at you softly, he didn’t seem to be teasing you at all. “Um thanks.” You could feel your cheeks heating up, despite the cool air that swept your legs as someone opened the door to the cafe. “Are you uh–– a marvel fan?”

He pursed his lips playfully, “Yeah,” his hand came up to rub the back of his neck, “Yeah you could say that.” He licked his lips and took another sip of his drink.

Your eyes, with a mind of their own, trailed down the column of his throat, following the vein on the side of his neck, the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed the warm liquid. The action almost seemed provocative, in both meanings of the term.

Suddenly you felt very hot and you knew that you had to get out of there before you made a fool of yourself in front of everyone, but most importantly him. You perked up, “I uh––I have to go professor, but it was nice talking with you. See you tomorrow!” With that you quite literally ran off, wincing as you turned around, having noticed the way his lips parted as if to speak, a furrow between his brows appearing out of confusion and concern. You really had to get control of yourself.

You practically berated yourself as you speed walked away. God, that was so stupid. And not to mention, incredibly rude! He’d probably be upset with you now, or maybe even mad. It’s just––unbelievable what he did to you, without even actually doing anything. It took you the entire walk there to realize that you unconsciously made your way back to your dorm––so much for the library. But you’d had enough social interaction for today, so you decided you’d stay there.

You got in your bed and buried yourself under the covers, deciding you needed the comfort of being hidden in your mattress after the embarrassment you’d just experienced. You lied there just staring at the plain, white ceiling for way too long until you let out a loud huff and sat up, before grabbing your computer to start your work.

Deciding to check your college email before you started, since they were incessant and it was easy to miss something, you scanned down the list of messages in your inbox. Your eyes skimmed through the boxes on the left of your screen, notifications that your professors left feedback on your assignments, the weekly newsletter, club events, a message from Holland, Tom––

You shut your computer immediately, eyes bulging as you held your breath. You swallowed thickly, as you stared into nothing in front of you, your eyes barely taking in anything, your mind a big ball of fuzz.

After taking a few deep breaths, and telling your overdramatic brain to calm down, you opened the laptop again. Biting your lip, you hovered your mouse over the message, reading over the small bits of information you could see in the preview.

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N, I just wanted to make …

You could feel your heart beating through your chest. Oh God––Wanted to make sure what?? The sensible part of your brain said to just open it to figure it out for yourself. But the irrational, idiotic part of your brain was yelling at you to not open it under any circumstance. What if he wanted to make sure you didn’t get the wrong idea? Did he know how you felt about him? Were you that obvious? Maybe he thinks you’re clinically insane and wants to make sure you’re getting the attention you need? You did run off like a crazy person, after all.

You shut your eyes tight and groaned loudly into your hands. Liz walked in and whistled lowly, taking in everything in front of her. You looked up, confused and looked at the time, realizing it had already been two hours since you first left the dorm, meaning she was done with her classes for the day.

“What’s up?” She took a seat at her desk, propping her legs on the table as she leaned back.

You waved her off, deciding it would be best to let this blow over and ignore it for now. You’d go back when you were in the right state of mind.

She started telling you about her day and annoyingly, your brain decided today would be the day that it would not shut off. Your brows were furrowed as you tried your best to focus on what your friend was saying, but she wasn’t even looking in your direction, staring up into the air above her as she spoke animated, hands waving around, so she didn’t even notice you struggling to pay attention.

Your eyes kept flitting back to the screen of your computer, your fingers swiping across the trackpad to turn it back on when the screen’s brightness lowered every now and then.

Liz looked back at you and stopped her spiel. “Alright what’s up with you?”

You sighed deeply and looked up at her. “Sorry, sorry. I just––I saw Professor Holland today––”

“Already?” She interrupted you, a goofy smile on her face. “Damn, you work fast.”

You threw the nearest pillow at her, “Shut up! I didn’t fuck him.”

“You should’ve.” She pointed out, holding the pillow to her chest.

You glared at her until she raised her hands in surrender, then continued, your eyes bouncing from object to object in the room as you babbled.

“I went to the cafe and I saw him and he came over to me and we started talking––and he whispered in my ear and he was joking around with me and he sipped his tea and he was super close to me and super hot, and I couldn’t handle it so I basically ran off without giving him a chance to say bye.” You took a deep breath, “And then he sent me an email after I saw him and I still haven’t opened it because I’m scared and I don’t know what he said…” You took another breath and looked at your friend, blinking as she just stared at you.

After a moment, she spoke up. “Dude just open the email.”

Your eyes widened almost in offense. “Did you not listen to anything I just said?”

“Yeah you practically fucked in the cafe then you got scared and ran away.” She spoke nonchalantly and you could tell she was fighting off a smile. “Look, eventually you have to open the email anyway, you can’t just ignore it. So just do it and rip the bandaid off.” You were about to speak up when she interrupted you, “I promise it won’t be half as bad as you think. We both know your mind is absolutely filled with the craziest ideas.”

You huffed and fell back down on the bed, not bothering to argue since you both knew she was right.

“Shit, I’m starving.” She looked at the time, “Yeah it’s about time for me to eat food.” She stood up, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Can you please get something for me?” She knew you well enough that you didn’t have to tell her what to get. You gave her your best smile and shrugged your shoulders.

“Are you serious.” She looked at you, deadpan, standing like the little emoji of the woman standing in place with her arms at her sides.

You had to suppress your smile, “What if I see him?” You asked incredulously, lying further in the covers. “I’d rather stay in here and hide, for now.”

“You have class with him tomorrow––”

“That’s why I said for now.”

She cracked a smile, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her things, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Love you!”

“Yeah yeah,” she waved her hand and walked out the door.

A few moments passed after Liz left and you sat up yet again, putting your computer on your lap as you swiped the trackpad, making the screen light up again. You checked the time, it had been almost an hour since he sent the email, you really shouldn’t make him wait any longer. Not that he’s waiting at all, he probably didn’t even notice that you hadn’t responded.

You inhaled and exhaled slowly, swallowed your nerves and clicked on the email.

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N,

I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. You seemed kind of stressed when you left earlier and I’m hoping it wasn’t because of anything I did. Can we check in tomorrow in my office? Hope everything is going well.

Warmest Regards,

Professor Holland

He wanted to meet tomorrow after class. In his office. Alone.

Oh, fuck. You could hear Liz in your head going Yes, fuck. But you quickly shoved her aside.

You read over the email about five times to make sure you weren’t misinterpreting anything, because that would be even more embarrassing. You clicked the reply button and slowly wrote out your response.

Hi Professor Holland,

Everything is fine, but thank you for asking, I appreciate the concern. I’m free tomorrow after class if you’re available then.

Thank you!

Y/N

You hit send and not even two minutes later, you received a response.

Hi Y/N,

Perfect! I’ll see you then :)

Warmly,

Professor Holland

How on earth were you supposed to focus on your work now? More importantly, how were you going to focus in class tomorrow?

❊❊❊❊

The next day, the butterflies in your stomach would not calm down. When you stepped into the class, he was talking to another student and you tried to sneak past to your seat unnoticed. You thought you’d succeeded but once you sat down and looked up, you made direct eye contact with him and you swear you stopped breathing. You barely even recognized the sound of everyone moving around you, getting ready for class to start.

He parted his lips and reluctantly turned back to the student still talking to him, snapping out of his daze, but not after glancing back at you. You swallowed and sank down in your seat. This was going to be a long class.

At 1:35, class started. Professor Holland stood up and clasped his hands, making his way to the middle of the floor in front of everybody, his voice reverberating through the room.

“Good afternoon everybody. Hope you’re all doing well.” His eyes found yours and you bit your lip nervously. You could see him swallow as he watched you, before moving his gaze elsewhere. Was that because of you? Surely, it had to be a coincidence. Maybe you made him uncomfortable. Oh great––

He went on, seemingly unfazed, eyes darting back to you subtly before continuing. The discussion soon turned to the book you’d just been assigned to read. The book was rather lengthy but there were always so many things to talk about within only a few pages––which you loved, so it was taking you all a while to go through everything together in class.

The conversations often took up a lot of the class time since Professor Holland simply loved talking and he always found everyone’s interpretations interesting and worth exploring––eager to hear our classmates perspectives. He also often said that he was not good at using technology, so he preferred to just talk and show rather than use his computer. Honestly, you found it endearing.

The conversations were always interesting to listen to, people never failed to give you insight on things you hadn’t even thought of before, but sometimes––some people were just a little stupid.

Someone brought up a slightly sexist point that made absolutely no sense but since you weren’t the one to call someone out in front of a room full of people, you stuck to your facial reactions instead of audibly responding. You turned back to the front of the class to see Professor Holland’s opinion to find that he was watching you, trying and failing to suppress his smile.

He put both hands in his pockets which you found ironic considering they would jump out any time soon––he loved to talk with his hands. His eyes got serious, the smile on his face a little less friendly as he addressed the sophomore who made the comment. “I don’t know if you’re aware of how ludicrously sexist that comment you just made was, but now you know.” He turned to the rest of the class. “Remember to think before you speak. This isn’t to necessarily call anyone out. It’s a warning. Senseless remarks will not only affect my view of you, but your grades as well.”

He went on and tried to shape the boy’s comment into something appropriate to discuss and you honestly couldn’t focus on anything else he said, you were just looking at him in awe and in shock. Sure, this was the bare minimum, but since it was so rare to see, it was very noticeable and even impressive when you noticed it.

God, you adored this man.

Near the end of class, he announced the next assignment, a paper you’d have to write about a comparison you made between any point in the story, a character, a theme, a hidden meaning, etc. and something in our modern reality, a social norm, a popular belief, etc. Your essays were always very open ended in this class, giving you room to write about almost anything you wanted to. Your professor knew that the assignments would be more enjoyable if there was some choice involved. He truly was good at his job.

“Look, reading’s hard sometimes, I get it. I’m dyslexic, so trust me, I understand. But I never let that stop me.” He paused to look around the room and it was so silent you could hear each other’s inhales and exhales. The power he had over a room full of around one hundred people was insane, and in a weird way, also turned you on. “I know the book is massive. Listen to the audio books if you have to, I don’t mind. But get the work done either way. It’s not for me, it’s for you. I want you to get the best grade you can in this class.”

“Bring me interesting material. I don’t want to fall asleep reading your work.” He joked and smiled proudly when laughter filled the room. “The essay is due in two weeks. Good luck.”

There were a few thank you’s and goodbyes scattered around the room as he sent everyone off, people scurrying from all sides to the exits.

You took your time gathering all your things and took a deep breath when the last few people made their way out, silence soon surrounding the both of you. You put your bag over your shoulder and walked down the carpeted steps, suddenly finding the dark grey pattern to be the most interesting things you’ve ever seen––and also watching your steps so that you don’t fall down them in front of him. You could barely hear the soft patter of your shoes as you walked down. When you finally got the main floor you looked up and saw him waiting for you patiently, things in his hands, a smile on his face.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” You nodded shyly and he led the way, his office only a hallway away from the lecture hall. You found it slightly odd that he didn’t try to make conversation on your way there, since he always loved to. But you tried not to think too hard about it. Maybe he was just tired.

When you reached his office, he opened the door and let you walk in first. Your eyes immediately scanned the room out of curiosity as you stepped inside, noticing his desk, the wood a dark mahogany which was covered with stacks of papers, picture frames, pens, and a few marvel funko pops––so he really was a fan. You’d never actually been inside of his office before. It was an intimidating thought for you to be in his office with him, alone. You just didn’t want to embarrass yourself.

You turned to him and gestured to the chair across from his desk, “Do I just––”

“Please,” he interrupted eagerly. “Make yourself comfortable.”

You took a seat and he set his things down next to his desk before sitting as well. His hair was coiffed to perfection today, curls sculpted nicely, a dark blue suit on his body with a black shirt underneath. He took off the suit jacket and put it on the back of his chair and you could see his veins and muscles bulging and shifting in his arms as he moved. He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk and wow he had nice fingers. You really had to get a grip on yourself––

“How was class today for you? Well, besides that one disappointing comment.”

You smiled, “I always enjoy the class, but yeah that was uh, disappointing as you said.

“I think your interpretations are always very insightful and very interesting. It’s almost a shame that you don’t share them with the whole class but part of me likes it that we keep them between us.” Oh? “Plus, I know how scary it can be talking in front of all those people. I almost shit myself first time I taught that class––”

You let out a surprised laughter and he couldn’t help laugh as well.

“Shit, sorry! I mean––” He sighed, “Language, sorry. I’m British.” He shrugged, “Can’t help it.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay. Personally I think curse words spice up conversations.” You smiled proudly when he laughed at your joke.

His smile radiated a more nervous energy after his laughter died off. “When you ran off yesterday, that wasn’t––was that because of me? Because if I did something to make you uncomfortable I’m so sorry.”

You tilted your head, trying to think of a way to explain. “No it wasn’t, well––it kind of was?” You had no idea why you would tell him this, but apparently your mouth was moving without agreeing with your mind first.

There was almost a pout on his face and you had the sudden urge to reach over the table and smooth it out with your lips. “It’s just, well––You make me just a little bit nervous, to be honest professor.” You looked down at your lap and back up at him timidly.

He raised his brows, “Oh––”

Your smile was strained and you wanted nothing more than to be swallowed whole by the floor.

“Well that’s not a bad thing, is it?” He looked at you almost, hopefully?

You laughed, “No trust me, it’s not.” Your eyes widened at the realization of what you’d basically just admitted to him and you didn’t know if you should feel embarrassed or relieved when the smirk appeared on his face.

But the words that he uttered next cleared that up for you. “Well, if I’m honest, you make me nervous too, darling. And definitely not in a bad way.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, almost teasing you with how good he looked.

You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, crossing your legs, your thighs squeezing together, and he definitely noticed, his eyes trailing down your body as he licked his lips as well.

The tension in the room was so thick but you found that you didn’t want to escape it, if anything you wanted to carve your way through it, stay for as long as you could until it snapped.

Your professor spread his legs, his hands coming down to rub at his thighs as he watched you and the sound of your heartbeat pounding filled your ears. It was almost as if there was an unseen force pulling the two of you together, but before it could there was a knock at the door.

The both of your heads snapped to the door to find it opening slowly. Jacob, Tom’s teaching assistant popped his head in. You had talked to him a few times, he was always very nice. He didn’t attend every class, but you guessed that he would be attending the next one. “Hey man.” He turned to you and smiled, “Oh hi Y/N.” You waved and let out a small hi in response. He turned back to the professor. “Your next class is starting like––” He looked at his watch. “Now.”

“Shit, sorry man. Lost track of time.” He got up and you did too, smiling sheepishly as you grabbed your things, getting up from your seat. “I’ll be right there.” Jacob nodded and closed the door.

You both made your way over to the exit slowly, still reeling from what maybe could have happened and what you both obviously thought of. The silence was loud around you, but it wasn’t scary this time.

“Let me know if you need any help with the upcoming assignment, alright? Don’t be afraid to stop by if you need to.” His gaze dropped down to your lips for a split second before reaching your eyes again. “For anything.” He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t describe but quickly tried to mask it with a smile as he opened the door for you, his eyes practically holding yours captive.

“Thank you, professor. I will.”

You stepped out and he watched you for a few moments before closing the door. You looked back, smiling as you caught his eye and as soon as he stepped back in the office, you practically ran out of the building and to your dorm, a stupid grin on your face.

“Holy shit.”

❊❊❊❊

When you practically burst into your dorm room, scaring Liz half to death before you told her what happened, let’s just say she wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“I fucking told you!” She flopped onto her bed, still staring at you pointedly as she did so, a smirk on her face. She pointed at you before dropping her hand down dramatically by her side. “You like, owe me a soda now or something.”

You rolled your eyes but you were so giddy the smile still hadn’t dropped from your face. “Well I do owe you for getting me lunch yesterday, so maybe I will buy you one.”

❊❊❊❊

Over the weekend, you started working on the essay for British Literature and you were already about halfway done since the topic you chose actually interested you. But you found yourself questioning if you were writing it properly as you went on. You weren’t sure if it was because you wanted it to be near perfect since you’d found out he paid extra attention to you, or maybe you just wanted to talk to him again––you’d never know.

After discussing with Liz, you decided you’d stop by his office on Monday afternoon once you were done with your classes. You knew he liked to stay in his office until late at night sometimes, he always said we could stop by whenever, if we needed something. So you decided to take advantage of that, shoving down your anxious thoughts and doing what you wanted.

Liz may or may not have convinced you to wear a shirt that was––aesthetically pleasing, to put it, specifically in the chest area so you were more than eager to see your professor’s reaction. You were a little nervous, you didn’t want it to seem like you were trying too hard, but you thought you looked good in this shirt, and you had a right to feel good about yourself. Since it was a little chilly outside, you hid it under a sweatshirt for now.

You got to his office and found yourself staring at the dark wood, hesitating to knock on. After taking a deep breath you rapped your knuckles against the door.

You heard a faint Come in! And you took a deep breath and opened the door slowly to find him sitting at his desk, “Hi Professor Holland.” He was finishing some notes on a student’s essay but his head snapped up immediately at the sound of your voice.

He dropped his pen and sat up, “Please,” he motioned to the seat across from his desk and you smiled gratefully before settling down. “What can I do for you? Everything alright?”

His eyes looked sincere and concerned and you could feel your insides melting a little bit.

“I just––I really want to do well on this essay,” He nodded for you to continue, “But I’m just not sure if I’m going in the right direction.”

He nodded understandingly, “Well let’s have a look, shall we?”

You reached down to grab your things when he stood up and walked past you, your eyes following him in confusion. He gestured to the couch, a somewhat impish smile on his face. “Just thought it would be more comfortable––and easier for us to look together, of course.”

You nodded, a small smile on your face as you picked up your bag and sat next to him on the couch. “Right, of course.” It was a loveseat so there wasn’t much room for either of you to distance yourselves.

You got out your computer and opened up the essay. You had already opened it before you got there, not wanting to have to awkwardly wait for it to load. Yes, you overthought things but––it helped sometimes. “I see you came prepared,” he joked and you couldn’t help but smile. He really did notice everything, didn’t he.

“Well I’m really confident about the topic of my essay, I think it’s interesting. But I feel like I may be adding too much into the paper, and I’m not sure if I’m overthinking things or if I should take some things out.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. I meant it when I said I appreciate having you in my class, you know. I always love reading your work. You write well.”

“Thank you, professor.” Though you saw his eyes darken at the title, he commented on it.

“You can call me Tom when we’re alone, darling. No need for formalities.”

“But I like calling you professor––” Your hand shot up to cover your mouth and you spoke before he could, ignoring his smile, “I mean um. Tom––Okay I can try that.”

His tongue passed under his teeth, a devilish smirk on his face as he watched you squirm under his gaze. “No you know, now I think professor is growing on me.”

You pursed your lips, rolling your eyes. “Prof––Tom.”

He raised his hands in surrender, “Alright alright.”

“Why don’t you read it to me? It’s easier to see where you can improve when you hear it out loud.”

You swallowed nervously, nodding your head as you brought your laptop closer to you. “O––Okay.”

You started reading your paper out loud, voice becoming slightly steadier as you went on, two fingers scrolling up the trackpad. He made comments as you read, only praise––and with each compliment you felt yourself getting hotter. Very good. Always write so well. Nice point there. Mhm. Good girl, that’s an excellent point. He shifted his way closer to you gradually as you read on and when his thigh touched yours, you had to tell yourself not to jump from the contact.

He placed his arm on the back of the couch, basically around your shoulder and you had to smush down the urge to throw your computer and climb into his lap. His thighs did look very inviting with the way he was sitting, though.

He moved closer to you and you could feel his breath cascading down over your shoulder as he brought his hand to the trackpad, his arm over your thigh, fingers scrolling through to where he had a few suggestions.

When he finished his few remarks, you could hear the proud smile in his voice. “See, I knew it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. You’re a good writer...” He paused and you turned your head slightly to find his lips mere inches from yours, his eyes trained on your mouth. His words were barely a whisper when he spoke up again, “A good student.” You both leaned in slowly and his hand came up to hold your cheek lightly. “Bet you’d be a good girl for me too.”

You gasped lightly and leaned forward, giving in and finally pressing your lips to his, both your hands grabbing his jaw. He moaned immediately, his body pressing into yours as you twisted to face him, his other hand coming around your waist to pull you in. You felt your laptop slipping off your thighs and squeaked, making the both of you laugh and pull away, flustered.

“Careful, love.” Tom grabbed the computer and put it down on the floor gently, confirming that you saved your work before pushing the lid closed.

The air in the room was hot, thanks to Tom in general, but also thanks to what you just did. So you pulled away and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Tom’s pout when he thought you were getting up to leave. Since there wasn’t much space on the couch, you stood up to take your hoodie off and you heard his breath hitch when his eyes fell upon the shirt you were wearing. “Christ-”

“Now what’s this?” Tom said almost to himself, his eyes staring at you in wonder and awe. “Never seen this little number before.” He noticed the clothes you wore? His hands were already aching to feel you again, reaching out for you subconsciously and you bit your lip to calm your smile as you sat back down, letting your sweater fall to the floor softly.

“What, this old thing?” You joked, looking down at the shirt––yeah, you looked good. “You like it?” You looked up at him, a cheekily innocent look in your eyes.

He put his hands around your waist and pulled you into his lap, enjoying the gasp it elicited from you. You put your hands gingerly on his shoulders and the way he was looking up at you made you never want to leave this position ever again. You tilted your head and licked your lips and Tom couldn’t take it anymore, he kissed you again, hands gripping you firmly, anchoring you to him. He pulled away after a good while, wanting to look at you again, his lips parted, practically panting like an animal. You really had an effect on him, but he did the same to you.

His eyes were taking you in, basically capturing a mental image for later. “God, you look heavenly, darling.” You squirmed in his lap and bit your lip when you felt a bulge growing underneath you. He leaned forward and left a trail of kisses on the tops of your breasts, leaving a few teasing nips and sucks here and there. You squealed, your hands coming up to run your fingers through his hair. You pulled his head up by his hair and the look in his eyes looked absolutely feral––like he wanted to eat you.

You were about to lean in and kiss him again when a knock at the door surprised the both of you. You both jumped off of the couch as Tom threw out excuses. “Yeah just a second!” You straightened out your shirt as Tom did the same to his pants and you picked up your things.

When he saw that you were settled, he took a deep breath and answered the door. His colleague and best friend Professor Osterfield, was standing there, a grin on his face. “You div, are you ever going to be on time for our monthly meetings?––” He stood up straight when he noticed you standing behind Tom. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company.” He looked between the two of you and it seemed as though he pieced everything together. Maybe Tom had told him about you? If he did, you wouldn’t be worried Tom didn’t seem like the type to tell unreliable people his business––and they were best friends after all.

You smiled at him in acknowledgement as moved aside to let you pass. “Sorry,” you looked between the both of them, “I’ll let you get to whatever you have to go to.” You looked at Tom once you were out of his office, “Thank you for the feedback, professor.”

You could see him fighting off his smirk before he replied, “Of course.” His stare was impenetrable as he looked at you, “Feel free to come by whenever.” You could see the hidden meaning in his words and let the hint of a smile show, before nodding and walking off.

Harrison looked at him, a pitiful smile on his face. “I hope you know what you’re doing, mate. You should be careful, for the both of you.”

Tom sighed, not wanting to have this conversation. “I know, man. Let’s go.”

❊❊❊❊

You found yourself missing Tom as soon as you left. God, this was kind of pathetic. But at least your feelings weren’t necessarily one sided––he did say you made him nervous too after all. You doubt he’d say that if he just wanted to fuck you––he was better than most men. And sure you might be a little biased, but at the end of the day he had a good heart and he was educated. So bonus.

When you stepped into your dorm, your roommate was sitting on her bed, snacks in hand as she looked at you expectantly. “Now these,” she gestured to the food on her bed, “are either for a story time, to rebuild your energy or both.”

You laughed and changed into your pajamas, starting to tell your best friend about everything that just happened. She often interrupted with her reactions and comments.

Oh. My. God.

Shut. Up.

You’re fucking lying!

“But we didn’t fuck.”

“Boo––”

“Yes, boo.” You laughed, “Professor Osterfield knocked at the door and dragged him off to a meeting so.” You shrugged.

“Professor Osterfield...is that the hot blond one?” You nodded and she continued expressing her feelings for the man. “I’d let him teach me a few things––”

“Literally bye.”

She laughed, “What? Come on have you seen him––”

“I’m a little preoccupied with another professor to be honest.”

She nodded, handing you a bag of chips as you settled in your bed. “True. And oh how lucky you are.” You smiled in agreement.

❊❊❊❊

Today was the day the essay was due and though you normally handed it in at the beginning of class, for once, you didn’t and you could feel Tom’s gaze following you as you walked up the steps to your seat without so much as a glance in his direction. You’d stopped by his office a few times over the past two weeks since Harrison interrupted you, but you never did anything more than kissing and grinding. You were both too scared of getting caught, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t thought about doing more in there.

Tom liked to have physical copies of the essays, just in case technology decides it’s against him (his words), so everyone had until 8pm tonight to drop it off by his office. You were definitely going to use that to your advantage.

You didn’t wear anything provocative to class, you didn’t really want that kind of attention today, plus you knew that Tom’s interest in you wasn’t solely based on your appearance. So you put the revealing items on under your clothing. And honestly, the thought that no one knew what you were wearing underneath it all only excited you even further.

You crossed your legs, relieving your tension and biting your lip as class went on, enjoying how flustered Tom would be every time he looked at you. You felt so submissive when you were alone with him, but when you were in public like this? Free to tease him subtly from a distance? That’s where you had all the power.

You had him blushing and stuttering throughout the whole class, though it wouldn’t have been easy for everyone else to notice, for you it was so obvious. He kept rubbing his hands together, pacing around as his eyes darted to you every few minutes. At one point he went over to sit down at his desk, which he rarely did while teaching––and you were fairly certain it was to hide a bulge in his pants. All thanks to you.

In the middle of the class, you felt your phone vibrate in your bag and pulled it out just to see if it was an emergency. You were pleasantly surprised and could feel your whole body react when you noticed who the message was from.

Tom: Having fun, are you?

Your eyes shot up to the front of the room and you bit your lip to contain your smile when you noticed him glaring at you.

Y/N: I always have fun in this class, professor ;)

You put your phone away afterwards and focused on the class, knowing it was killing Tom that you weren’t giving him more attention. Your heart was racing and your panties had a wet patch by the time class was over. You had a feeling he was going to try to keep you after class, so you hurried up and gathered your things, sighing in relief when a few students went up to his desk to talk to him.

You smirked to yourself and headed straight for the door, your head high on your shoulders. But just as you were about two feet from the exit, Tom spoke up.

“I assume I’ll be seeing you later, Miss Y/L/N?”

You turned around, eyes slightly widening as you noticed him, the group of students near him.

He smirked slyly, “To turn in your paper, remember?” His eyes were giving you a knowing look.

You swallowed, nodding as you smiled at him innocently. “Of course, professor.” You enjoyed the way his eyes darkened only slightly, only noticeable to you. “See you then.” With that you walked out.

❊❊❊❊

You practically skipped to his office at around 7:45, before knocking at the door, four knocks in a specific pattern––the code you’d made together.

“Come in, darling!”

You walked in and quickly shut the door, a chuckle escaping you. “You know someone could hear you from the outside one day, right?”

He shrugged, “I’ll just blame it on my accent. Could call everyone darling, they don’t know any better.”

You laughed. “Okay well––Professor Holland,” you said, loving the way he looked at you when you uttered his title. “I brought this for you.” You took out the printed essay and placed it on his desk.

He pushed his chair out, his eyes following your every move as he spread his legs. “Oh is that right?”

You took the invitation and took your reserved seat in his lap, linking your arms around his neck as you looked down at him. “Mhm, still want a good grade in this class you know. You are my favorite professor after all.”

He smirked smugly, licking his lips. “And you,” he kissed your lips before pulling away briefly, “Are my favorite girl.” He brought his hands up your back and pulled you into him as he kissed you again. This time, longer and deeper, wanting to feel you as much as possible. “Teased me so much in class today.” You smiled into the kiss and he continued, “Almost wanted to take you over my knee right there in front of everyone.”

You moaned audibly and he brought his hand up to your neck, gripping you softly but firmly, giving you room to pull away if you didn’t approve. When you leaned further into his grip, he grinned and pulled you closer. You started grinding down on him, basking in the desperate groans and sighs you were coaxing out of him, the way his movements became more frantic as he bucked into you.

After debating with yourself in your head for a moment––struggling to think properly with his hands all over you, you got off of his lap and smiled at the small whines of protest he let out before reaching for his belt. You made eye contact with him and noticed how wide his eyes were, hopeful, hungry, but hesitant.

His hands reached for yours, “You don’t have to, darling. If anything I should be doing this first. God knows I’ve thought about it.”

You pouted, trying your best to ignore his words and focus on the task at hand. “But I want to,” you kissed his cheek, “I wanna make you feel good, professor.” He nodded, barely able to speak.

“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl for me?”

You nodded eagerly, licking your lips as he pulled himself out of his trousers. “More than anything. Wanna make up for earlier.” You got down on your knees, mouth practically salivating at the way his member stood tall against his abdomen, his tip leaking with precum.

Your hand wrapped around him just as a knock sounded at the door. Professor?

The both of your eyes widened, the both of you looking around for some sort of answer before he ushered you under the desk, tucking himself back in hastily, pulling his chair as much as he could and sitting at the edge, hiding his unbuttoned and unbuckled pants. Luckily for the both of you, the back of the desk reached the floor, so whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see you hiding underneath. “Uh––Come in!”

The person walked in and you recognized the sound of her voice, she often spoke up in the lectures. You couldn’t remember her name, though. You do, however, remember that she often spoke up only to get Tom’s attention. You’d heard her gush about him in the halls just outside his class in the hopes of him hearing her. You couldn’t blame her, but the thought still irked you. “I just wanted to give you my paper. I hope it’s not too late.”

Tom checked the time on his watch, 7:58. “Nope,” he laughed breathlessly, trying to compose himself, “Not too late at all, in fact just in time.”

She handed her paper to Tom and he gave her a tight-lipped smile, trying his best not to think about the fact that your hands were trailing up his thighs and that he could feel your warm breath hitting the exposed part of his member––he really hadn’t payed attention when he tucked himself back in.

Before he could send the girl who’s name you still hadn’t remembered off, she took a seat across from him and he swallowed nervously, a little frustrated since he was so close to getting his cock in his girl’s mouth.

It seemed that you somehow read his thoughts because as soon as the girl kept talking for another two minutes, you pulled his member out and stroked him, licking up his shaft and he tensed, taking every ounce of self control he had not to look down at you. His hand reached down and held your cheek gently, just wanting to feel you. You nuzzled into his palm and he had to bite his lip to suppress his smile, not wanting the student across from him to think his endearing expression was meant for her.

You honestly completely tuned out all the words she was saying, your sole focus pleasuring Tom. But you didn’t miss the flirty and falsely innocent tone in her voice. You couldn’t see her but she was no doubt batting her eyelashes at him as well.

When she made a comment about how good his shirt looked on him, you couldn’t help yourself, you sucked his tip into your mouth with no warning, making him groan unexpectedly. You paused, eyes wide and playful as your mouth stayed around him.

“Are you okay professor?”

He let out a strained smile, “Yes, Emma, Sorry––” So her name was Emma. “I just uh banged my knee on the desk.”

She hummed a small okay and went on.

He caught your eye, trying his best to keep his expression neutral, but boy was it hard. Especially when you were looking up at him like that, with his cock in your mouth. You licked around his tip and lowered your mouth around him and he had to force himself to focus on the girl who was still talking to him.

You were not playing fair but quite frankly you didn’t care. You were making him feel good and yourself too. Your hand was pumping him, your tongue swirling around him as quietly as you could, while your other hand found its place between your thighs.

In the middle of Emma’s speech, Tom’s eyes drifted down and widened, his breath getting caught in his throat when he noticed your other hand, moving between your legs. He stuttered out an excuse, unable to tear his eyes away from you for a moment, “Uh, Emma I’m so sorry––I just have so much work to do, but feel free to come back––” he paused to swallow when you sucked harder around him in reaction to his invitation. “Come back next week if you have any problems or anything else you’d like to discuss.”

She hesitantly but respectfully said goodbye and was on her way, closing the door behind her.

Tom’s hands immediately shot down to hold your head, his mouth dropped open as he watched you, approaching his high. “Shit, that’s it darling that’s it. So fucking good for me.”

“I’m gonna cum––” he warned. You simply hummed around him and sped up your movements, feeling yourself clench as he panted, his hips bucking slightly as he came into your mouth. You unfortunately weren’t able to cum but you were sure there’d be other chances. You popped off of him and swallowed his load before licking up his length teasingly slow. “Fuck, such a good girl.”

He pulled his chair out and brought you up to stand between his legs, tiling his head to look up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs absentmindedly. “Was someone a little jealous?”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but failing to fix your annoyed facial expression. “Maybe.”

He tucked himself back into his pants and stood up, chuckling as he squeezed your cheek. “I’m yours.” He pecked your lips, before looking in your eyes, “And I’m most definitely repaying the favor when we get home. I mean––if you want to, of course.” Home.

You couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah––Okay.”

You’d never been to Tom’s house before so this felt like sort of a big deal to you, but you were going to try and calm your racing thoughts and heart. You and Tom agreed that you would go around the corner of the building for him to pick you up in his car, not wanting to risk anyone seeing you.

As soon as you were settled in, seatbelt on, Tom drove off and honestly the thrill of having to hide was exciting to the both of you. His hand was gripping your thigh throughout the whole drive and you could tell it was meant as a reminder that he was there for you, but also that he could barely contain himself.

Seeing Tom drive you, the flashing street lights illuminating his face, highlighting his jawline, his hand gripping your thigh––this was a sight you knew you wanted to see more. The intimacy of it all made you warm inside and the feeling of Tom’s fingertips digging into your skin only riled you up further.

You leaned over to kiss his cheek and he smiled at the feeling of your soft lips drifting over his skin. “Darling––” His words were cut off by a harsh moan when you trailed your lips down to his sweet spot, the noise almost too loud for the quiet, tense air in the car.

You teased, licked and bit at his skin, not afraid to leave marks. It was Friday now, if anyone saw them on Monday, they would just assume he’d had an eventful weekend. Honestly, the thought that no one would know that you were the one who left those marks excited you––it would be a secret between you and Tom, a thing for the two of you to share on your own.

Tom’s hands were now gripping the wheel and your thigh with force, trying to get his bearings. “You’re being very naughty today, love. Can’t say that I don’t love it though.”

You smiled sinfully into his neck, continuing your actions. Your hand slid over his thigh teasingly slow to rest on his bulge, fingers squeezing ever so softly and he practically jolted in his seat. “Christ––love unless you want me to crash this car I suggest you stop.”

You pulled away, satisfied with how much you’d riled him up. He almost whined at the loss of contact, subconsciously upset that you’d actually stopped. But as your hand reached back down to find its place between your thighs, his tone shifted.

“Don’t you dare touch what’s mine. That’s my job.”

You actually felt a shiver pass through your body and you squeezed your thighs together at the sound of his dominant voice, excited for what was to come.

When you made it to his apartment, you barely had time to take in the scenery and take off your shoes and jackets before he dragged you to his room. But from what you saw, the decor was simple but elegant, much like Tom. His bedroom was the same, but again, you weren’t too focused on it.

He turned on the dim light in his room, wanting to be able to see you as he pleased you. He stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your waist, looking deep into your eyes. “You still want this?”

You nodded absolutely certain. “Want you to take me.”

His pupils dilated and he pulled your shirt up and over your head, licking his lips, eyes widening when he noticed what you were wearing and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Christ, were you wearing this all day?”

You nodded again. “The underwear’s matching too. Wanna see?”

He got down on his knees, a teasing but desperate tone to his voice. “You’re a smart girl, don’t ask stupid questions.” He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down along with your socks, mouth dropping open as he got to see the full set.

You ran your hands up and down your body teasingly as he stood up. “Do you like it?”

He shook his head, smiling in disbelief, “Again with the silly questions, love.” He leaned in to kiss you, pulling away to take off his clothes. “You look like a goddess, darling.” You could feel your skin heating up from his words and his stare. He pulled you in for another kiss before bringing you onto the bed.

You lied down in the middle and spread your legs, waiting for him eagerly as he lied down between them. “Can’t fucking wait to taste you, love.”

He pulled your panties over to the side and licked into you, his tongue softly swiping through your folds. His eyes rolled back as he moaned into you, “Taste just as perfect as you look.” He slid his hands around your thighs and pulled you in closer, smiling at the small squeak you let out.

His tongue was exploring you, finding all the spots and all the tricks that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. He was keeping this all to memory, memorizing the way you feel, the way you look. When your breaths quickened and your fingers tugged at his curls, he locked his arm around your stomach, slid one, then two fingers inside of you and sped up his movements, moving his head from side to side as he hummed onto your clit.

Your body tensed and you held onto him for dear life as the knot in your stomach gave out, the pleasure spreading all throughout your body. Your mouth dropped open in ecstasy, your neck craning back and Tom couldn’t look away from you. You looked like a painting and he wanted to commit it to memory.

He let go of you and kissed his way up your body, soothing you with his lips. Your legs were still twitching slightly, your stomach clenching and unclenching when his kisses reached your cheek. “Look so pretty when you come for me.” He kissed along your jaw, “Can’t believe you’ve deprived me of such a beautiful sight for so long.” He kissed your lips and tugged your bottom one between his teeth, before looking at you, eyes wide, “You gonna give me the privilege of seeing it again?”

You smiled, your hands coming up to hold his cheeks. “You can see it whenever you want. As long as you’re the one making it happen.” You pulled him to you and kissed him, the both of you moaning into the small gaps between your mouths.

He started to pull away but you whined and pulled him back making him smile. “I’ve gotta get a condom, love.”

He tried to get up again but you pulled him back down, “M’on the pill Tommy.” You looked up at him, pouting and he almost gasped––the effect you had on him was insane. “Just fuck me please.”

He didn’t need anymore convincing, grabbing a hold of his cock and swiping it through your folds, groaning out loud at how good your wetness felt. You bucked your hips and realizing you were getting desperate, he finally slid into you and all your senses immediately tuned into him.

Just like your dream––All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure.

His eyes were watching your face, taking you in as he thrusted into you, making sure you were enjoying everything he was giving you. You felt absolutely amazing and so did he. “So perfect for me, darling. That’s it.” He bit his lip and sped up, making your jaw drop as you stared into his eyes, completely open and vulnerable to him. His touch was tantalizing, even better than your fantasies which only meant you’d become more addicted to him and what he could do to you.

He grunted, angling his hips when he found your spot, hitting it over and over, bringing his hand down to play with your clit. “Told you I wanted to see you cum again, pretty girl. So you’re gonna cum then I’m gonna fill you up. That sound okay?”

You nodded eagerly, eyes watching his every move as your hands gripped his arms, your thighs burning invitingly as they stretched around him with every thrust. Then you uttered that one word that always had him almost inappropriately weak for you. “Want to be full of you, professor.”

His jaw slacked and he paused for a slight moment before picking up his pace, faster than before, hips chasing after both your highs, fingers still rubbing you just the way he learned, just the way you liked. “Fuck-–”

A few more thrusts and flicks of his wrist and you were tensing under him, your pussy clenching around him as he let out broken curses and moans, losing his rhythm and releasing into you with a groan.

He rested some of his weight on you for a moment, the both of you smiling and laughing breathlessly as you took in the moment. Your hands came up to play with his curls and he sighed, leaning into your touch. He lowered his head into the crook of your neck and left a few soft kisses, coaxing some sighs from you as well.

After a moment, he rolled over and took you with him, making you nuzzle further into him, his arm wrapped around you, your leg slung over his waist. His hand was rubbing up to your ass and down to your thigh, lulling you to sleep while simultaneously riling you up again.

He kissed your forehead and you kissed his chest in response. “That was fucking amazing, love.”

You nodded and hummed in agreement, “Even better than my dreams.”

He pulled back to look at you, you could hear his heartbeat quicken and you tried to hide your face in his chest. “You had dreams about this too?”

That made you lift your head up to look at him. You could see in his eyes that he wasn’t joking but you were still slightly shocked. “Too?”

He smiled, licking his lips, “Well maybe we should discuss them, and try them out for ourselves.” His hand found its way between your legs again, making you moan but that didn’t stop you from responding.

You nodded, “For research purposes, of course.”

“Of course.” He grinned, “See, I knew I taught you well.” He leaned in to kiss you deeply, “My girl’s the perfect student.”

You spent hours exploring each other's bodies as you reenacted your dreams, both exceeding each other's expectations every time. By the time you fell asleep in each other's arms, it was late at night and you were sweaty, and tired, but overwhelmingly pleased.

❊❊❊❊

The next Friday, it was halloween. Liz had somehow convinced you to go to a halloween party with her. On top of that it was a frat party. And even worse, you dressed up as a school girl because it was all last minute and you didn’t have any time to get a costume.

“Oh come on Y/N, you look hot!”

You turned in the full length mirror to look at your ass that was almost visible in this mini skirt. “You think so?”

“Duh.”

And that’s all the convincing you needed to go out. You needed a little college fun. You hadn’t been to a party in who knows how long because you were always focusing on your work. You deserved this. Also Liz said it was a celebration of your “lay”, yes, she said lay.

“I’m just saying you cannot let me get with him again.”

“Liz it’s literally his frat house that we’re going to and we both know you have little to no self control.”

“Well damn. You couldn’t have sugar coated it?”

“What, you want me to throw a packet of splenda on you?” You joked.

She shoved you, “Dude shut up,” she laughed.

You looked down at your bare thighs that were only partly covered by your thigh high socks and rubbed your arms, regretting not bringing a jacket when Liz spoke up again. “Oh shit, is that Professor Holland?”

Your eyes shot up and made direct eye contact with him. He was wearing a hoodie and some sweats but he still looked great as usual. His eyes trailed down your body and soon your shivers were no longer because of the cold.

“I’ll just wait here.” Liz said suggestively and you walked over to Tom.

“H–Hi.”

He put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch you, he didn’t know who was around. “Well hello to you too.” He looked into your eyes, a smirk on his face. You rubbed your arms quickly for warmth, and Tom had to control himself to not look at your chest, even though he could see your nipples hardening from the weather through your shirt. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and take you home.

“Any plans?” You asked.

“No, I'm just about to go home. I’m uh guessing you have somewhere to be?” His eyes traced your figure again.

“Yeah um me and Liz are going to a frat party.” You pointed back to your friend and gave him a small smile and shrug. “She convinced me.”

He wanted to kiss you so bad but he had to restrain himself.

“Be safe tonight, yeah?” His eyes were comforting, as they always were, but this felt almost more personal? Almost like he didn’t want you to go. And honestly, after seeing him, you almost didn’t want to either. You never defined your relationship with him, so honestly right now he was like a friend with benefits––professor with benefits, if you will.

You nodded, licking your lips nervously. “O––Okay. I will. You be safe too!”

His eyes followed you as you walked off, your friend pulling you along, obviously whispering to you, probably about him. You looked so fucking good and everyone else was going to see that too. It’s not like he owned you or anything, but part of him really wished he could claim you, openly care for you and be affectionate. His thoughts were a mix of wholesome and raunchy and he had no idea how to act.

He almost felt wrong but he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his mind, the way you looked up at him sheepishly, the innocent look in your eyes while you were wearing that mini skirt. His cock was bulging in his boxers ever since he first laid eyes on you. When he got home, he made his way to his bed, undressing almost immediately. Lying down in the middle of the bed, just where you were days before brought a flood of memories into his mind, only making his member throb even more. He tugged at his cock, spitting in his hand to make it slick.

Images of you were flashing in his mind as he sped up his movements, desperate for a release.

He was dying to get a taste of you again. The memory of the way you felt under his fingertips, the way your muscles clenched when he hit the right spots. The way you tasted when you were dripping onto his tongue. The way you looked at him when you came, your lips parted to release broken moans and whimpers. The way your fingers gripped his curls as your body tensed. It was all enough to make him spill over his hand, his breaths coming out in quick pants as his head dropped back onto the pillow.

“Fuck.” He really had it bad for you.

❊❊❊❊

Tom had texted you during class on Tuesday to meet him in his office when you were done with classes for the day. When you stepped into the room, he locked the door immediately, bringing you over to his desk, his lips chasing yours. Screw worrying about people hearing you, he wanted you. Now.

“God, just seeing you in that tight little costume––you have no idea how badly I wanted to ravish you. The thought of all those dumb frat boys seeing you in all your glory like that––I was absolutely beside myself.” So that’s what this was about. His hand came up to hold your cheek, his eyes fiercely staring into yours and you nuzzled into his touch, your hand holding his wrist softly and his eyes softened at the sight of you.

“I’m gonna absolutely devour you.” You gasped and he smiled, pulling your pants along with panties down. He sat you down on his desk and got down on his knees, licking his lips. “As soon as I got a taste of you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go without it ever again.” He kissed your thigh, looking up at you. “You gonna let me have a taste again? Wanna make you feel good, lovie.”

You nodded, swallowing roughly, “Y––Yeah. Yes please.”

He chuckled breathlessly, “Such a polite little thing you are.” He kissed his way from your inner thigh to your center before licking a torturously slow stripe from your hole to your clit. You let out a sigh and gripped the desk, your fingertips becoming lighter at how hard you were already holding it.

His hands held your thighs open, putting them over his shoulders, holding you in place. His tongue was languidly licking you up and down, savoring your taste and your moans, coaxing them out of you one by one, nonstop. He looked up at you and your breath got caught in your throat, the look in his eyes fierce, almost as if he could see your bare soul and he clearly liked what he saw. He brought his lips to close around your heat after every other swipe of his tongue, passionately kissing your heat.

“So fucking good, angel. Always the best for me.”

You nodded, licking your lips, one of your hands coming to grab at his curls, making him growl into you. “Only for you, Tommy.”

He didn’t stop his tongue or his lips until you came, your back arching, fingers frantically grabbing for whatever you could hold, lip trapped between your teeth to muffle the moans that so desperately wanted to escape into the quiet air of the room. He kept going until you had to pull his head away from you, overwhelmed by all the pleasure and scared that you would scream and alert everyone in the building about what you were up to.

His hands were caressing your thighs, eyes looking at you in awe, almost too innocently for what you’d just done. He stood up between your legs and leaned in to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue and his lips.

He pulled away to look at you, hands holding your hips as your legs wrapped around his waist. You brought your arms up to link around his neck, looking up at him appreciatively and absolutely spent. “So do you think I should wear school girl outfits more often?”

He laughed, his hands holding you tighter, “If you do, my head is never leaving between your thighs.”

You smiled cheekily, batting your lashes at him. “Promise?”

He’d never gotten down on his knees quicker in his life. Let’s just say it took you another hour before you left his office.

❊❊❊❊

Over the past few weeks it had become a routine for you to go over to Tom’s office to seemingly “work on your assignments and review,” so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to show up unannounced Friday afternoon. Without meaning to, though, it seemed you showed up a little too early, and ended up overhearing part of Tom and Harrison’s conversation.

“I can tell Y/N means a lot to you, mate. Don’t lie.” Your heart dropped to your stomach as you skidded just in front of the door, about to turn the corner inside. You backed up and stayed pressed to the wall. Luckily no one really stopped by this side of the building at this time on a Friday, so no one would find you snooping around in the middle of the hallway.

“No I just––”

No. He said no––Okay you weren’t going to freak out. This always happens in the movies, and then the main character runs away before hearing the most important part and they overreact. So you decided to just...wait it out.

So you waited and waited. And the more the silence overwhelmed you, the louder it got. You could feel the tears starting to form in your eyes because you really thought your feelings were mutual. But just as you inched your foot backwards to walk away, he spoke up again, his voice quiet.

“She means everything to me, man. I––It scares me, honestly. I just don’t want to mess it up.”

This time the tears fully formed in your eyes, but for the absolute opposite reason. You smiled and wiped at your eyes, not even bothering to hide anymore as you turned the corner, surprising Tom, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance. Harrison turned around to see you and his gaze filled with concern as well.

“Tom––” your voice was quiet but there was a smile on your face.

“Darling––” He rushed over to you and grabbed your hands, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs to catch the few tears that escaped. “What’s wrong, are you alright?”

Your hands came up to hold his wrists as you looked into his eyes, “I heard you talking.”

His face dropped in realization and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

Harrison cleared his throat and subtly made his way out, “You guys have some things to discuss.” He put a hand on your shoulder and you both smiled at each other appreciatively before he walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Tom took your hands and brought you over to the couch. “I hope I didn’t scare you off, love.”

You shook your head immediately, even climbing in his lap to prove him wrong and he smiled gratefully. “No! It’s just that we never really talked, you know, about us.” He nodded and you took that as a sign to continue, enjoying the way his hands subconsciously slipped under your shirt to rub at your skin soothingly. “I like you Tom, obviously. But I like you a lot.” You linked your hands behind his neck. “I think I might be falling for you.”

His eyes started tearing up as well, as he smiled, “Yeah well, I think I’ve already fallen for you, darling.”

You looked into his eyes and your smile brightened, “Okay maybe I lied––I’ve definitely already fallen for you as well.”

You both laughed lovingly, pulling each other in for a sweet kiss.“Look,” Tom started, licking his lips. “I don’t know what this means for our future, but all I know is I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.”

You kissed his lips softly, “Well I don’t plan on leaving any time soon either.”

“Good.” He looked at you and you felt as though your soul was out and open for him to hold and love. “Cause you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N and I don’t ever want to lose you.”

You could feel your eyes tearing up again. This felt good. This felt like home.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #professor!tom holland #professor!tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #for a sec tho lol #professor!tom holland imagine #professor!tom holland fic #professor!tom holland oneshot #professor!tom holland smut #professor!tom holland angst #professor!tom holland fluff

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nctsworld · 4 years

Text

the yuletide boyfriend

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

NOVEMBER 30th

“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”

Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.

The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.

Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.

“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”

Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.

The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.

To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.

You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.

“You?”

Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.

“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.

Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.

DECEMBER 5th

The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.

However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.

Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.

In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.

Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.

Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:

Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).

The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).

Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.

But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.

His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.

However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.

Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.

You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.

Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.

“Mark broke up with me.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.

You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.

As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.

And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.

After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.

“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.

“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”

With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.

“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”

He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.

“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”

His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.

“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”

You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.

Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:

“WISHLIST: -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”

There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.

Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.

You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.

Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”

Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.

“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.

“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”

You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.

“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”

Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.

“Thanks again for checking up on me.”

Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”

You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.

Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.

Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.

DECEMBER 11th

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.

Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.

He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.

Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow.

“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.

“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.

“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.

The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”

“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”

As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.

“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”

“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”

“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.

“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”

Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.

“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”

Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”

Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”

In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”

Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”

He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”

With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.

“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”

You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.

Sputtering, you say, “What?”

Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.

“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”

He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”

Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.

“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”

Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”

You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”

Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.

“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”

Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.

“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.

Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.

“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”

Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”

He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.

“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”

Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.

DECEMBER 21st

Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.

That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.

After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.

You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.

“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”

Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.

Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.

“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”

Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.

Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.

But that changes during a third of the movie.

You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.

A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.

“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.

“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.

He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”

Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.

Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.

You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.

Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.

After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.

Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?

You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.

And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.

Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.

With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.

DECEMBER 22nd

“Babe, how do I look?”

“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.

The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.

When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.

Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.

“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.

He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.

“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”

Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.

But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.

“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”

Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”

On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.

Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.

Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.

Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.

“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”

In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.

“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.

Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.

“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.

Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.

The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.

DECEMBER 23rd

For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.

You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.

“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.

Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.

“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”

Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”

At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.

“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.

As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”

Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.

“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.

He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”

You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.

The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.

Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.

You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.

But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.

God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.

You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.

The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.

DECEMBER 24th

On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.

Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.

Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.

Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.

Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.

You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.

Where is your boyfriend?

No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?

Did he leave you? He would never.

Right?

But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?

You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.

Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.

Is this how it feels to actually lose him?

Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—

Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.

“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”

You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.

“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”

You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side, ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.

Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.

“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.

“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”

The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.

After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.

The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.

Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?

But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.

Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.

The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.

Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.

Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.

Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.

He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.

Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.

On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.

Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.

Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.

Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.

“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.

“Same,” he pants.

Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.

Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.

Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.

His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.

Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.

He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.

For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.

“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”

“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”

The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.

DECEMBER 25th

Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.

After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.

The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.

The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.

Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”

“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”

Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.

“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.

Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.

His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.

Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.

It’s the new Playstation.

He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.

“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”

A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.

“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”

You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”

Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.

“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”

His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.

Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.

Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.

After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.

Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.

But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.

Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.

Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.

However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.

You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.

When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.

DECEMBER 26th

Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.

When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.

The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.

“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.

You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.

“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”

“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”

His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.

That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.

He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”

His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”

“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.

“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.

You need to know for certain.

“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”

This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.

But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.

If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.

Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.

“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”

“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.

The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”

DECEMBER 28th

Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.

That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.

But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.

In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.

And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.

Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.

Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.

But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.

And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.

DECEMBER 30th

Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.

“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.

There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.

“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”

Another pause.

On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:

“I miss you. So much.”

DECEMBER 31st

It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.

“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”

Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.

“About the question that you asked me that night...”

He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.

“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”

Still no answer. Yangyang continues.

“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”

He leans his forehead gently against the door.

“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”

A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.

“Can you at least say something?” he begs.

After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.

Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.

Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.

And you overslept. Big time.

At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.

It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.

You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.

You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.

When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.

Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.

“When did you get here?”

The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.

“Ten, nine, eight...”

Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.

“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”

“Seven, six, five...”

“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”

“Four, three, two...”

”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”

“One...”

“I love you, Yangyang—”

The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.

“Happy New Year!”

A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”

Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping.

“You came over?!”

“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”

“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”

“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile. “I love you.”

“As more than a friend?” you clarify.

“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”

Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.

“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”

“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.

“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”

“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”

Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.

JANUARY 2nd

It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.

In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”

Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.

Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.

And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.

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kats-alcove · 3 years

Text

After-School Activities: Chapter 2

|ch. 1|ch. 2|ch. 3| ch. 4| ch. 5| ch. 6| ch. 7| ch. 8|

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None!

Summary:

You’re a relatively innocent University student, so why are you interested in the school’s BDSM club?

A/N: I'm sorry if this chapter is a little boring, so feel free to skip it! But I really wanted to include this part, since I'm doing my best to portray a healthy D/s dynamic. A more exciting chapter should be out sometime this week or next!

Read it here on AO3!

You paced your dorm room, throwing glances at the clock on your dresser. You were supposed to be meeting Aizawa at 3PM, at a little cafe several miles from campus. The hope was that the awkward time of day and longer distance would limit the chances of the two of you bumping into anyone you knew.

It had been two weeks since your liaison with the professor, and in some ways it was like it had never happened. Aizawa didn't treat you any differently during class or when you passed each other in the halls. As far as the general public was concerned, the two of you were student and teacher, nothing more. In fact, you had almost started to feel like he had forgotten about his offer.

Then, a week after your encounter, your phone had lit up with a text from a number you didn't recognize.

???: Hello, Y/N. This is Aizawa.

Y/N: Mr. Aizawa?! How did you get my number?

Aizawa: I memorized it when I added my own to your contacts. I hope that’s alright with you?

Y/N: Of course! But… why wait until now to text me?

Aizawa: Unfortunately, I’ve been very busy. I apologize for the delay

Y/N: It’s fine, I understand.

Aizawa: It was not fine; it was rather irresponsible of me, actually. I should have checked up on you earlier.

Y/N: I've been fine, really!

Aizawa: All right. In the future, feel free to text me if you ever feel even the slightest bit off after a session, or drop by my office hours if needed.

Y/N: OK, I will. Wait, what do you mean by “future sessions”?

Aizawa: Ah, yes, my other reason for texting you. I would like to set up a meeting to discuss how this arrangement will proceed. Are you free this Thursday at 3PM?

Y/N: Yeah, I only have one class on that day, and it ends at 1PM.

Aizawa: Excellent. Then meet me at this cafe.

*Aizawa sent an address*

Aizawa: It’s a bit far, so you might want to take the bus.

Y/N: I can do that! Is there anything else you need?

Aizawa: Not at the moment. I actually have a class starting soon, so I’m afraid I have to go.

Y/N: No problem! I guess I’ll see you on Thursday?

Aizawa: I had better see you in class before then, Y/N.

Y/N: Oh, yeah! Heh.

And thus began the most anticipation-filled week of your life. You were as nervous as you were excited, for a variety of reasons. There was obviously the whole point of your meeting with Aizawa, the things you were assuming the two of you would discuss. But there was also the slight fear of being caught, which you knew was irrational. What you were doing wasn't illegal (you had checked).

Still, you wanted to avoid the questions that would inevitably arise if any of your classmates saw you with Aizawa. So you planned on bringing your backpack with your laptop and some study materials. That way, if anyone saw you it would be possible to claim that Aizawa was just helping you better understand some of his lecture material.

It was equipped in this manner that you left your dorm at 2:30. The bus stop on campus was less than 5 minutes from your dorm, and the next bus left at 2:36. That gave you plenty of time for the 10 minute bus ride, plus the 5 or so minutes it would take to walk from the bus stop to the cafe. Taking a window seat near the front of the bus, you popped your earbuds in and relaxed, content to enjoy your music and the scenery flashing by.

**************************************************

You stopped in front of the cafe, checking the time on your phone: 2:53. Hesitantly, you scanned the tables you could see through the glass storefront. Only a few of them were occupied, but none of the cafe-goers sported the signature mop of black hair you were looking for. You were just about to give up looking and text Aizawa, when a hand on your shoulder made you startle.

Whipping around, you were already bringing your hands up into a defensive position when you saw that the person who had scared you was the exact man you were waiting for. Aizawa was dressed far more casually than you had ever seen him, in a simple black shirt and jeans. One of his hands held a bag similar to yours. Awkwardly, you dropped your guard.

“Hi, Mr. Aizawa. I’m sorry about that.” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

“Don't be.” Aizawa moved around you to open the door. “I’m glad to see that your training has become so instinctive. After you.”

You stepped into the cafe, the scent of warm pastries and hot coffee immediately setting you at ease. The jingle of the bell had the barista calling out a greeting to the two of you. With a light touch on the small of you back, Aizawa guided you up the counter, where he ordered a black coffee and a blueberry muffin.

“Order whatever you like, Y/N. It’s on me.”

“O-oh! Thank you!” You smiled at your teacher before placing an order for your favorite drink and pastry.

The two of you waited to the side whale the barista skillfully made your drinks. They set the two paper cups, along with a bag of pastries on the counter with a call of “Aizawa”? You retrieved your beverages, but when you made to sit at an unoccupied table, Aizawa caught your elbow with a shake of his head. He instead steered you towards a previously-unnoticed set of stairs.

The staircase led to a beautifully cozy loft above the main floor of the cafe. It was small, only big enough for one table with bookshelves lining the walls and a large bay window overlooking the street, complete with pillow-filled reading nook.

“Oh, wow!” you exclaimed, taking a seat. “This is so cute!”

“It’s private, too. One of the baristas will have put an ‘occupied’ sign on the staircase, so we won’t be interrupted.”

“So, in other words, a perfect place for the sort of conversation we’re going to have,” you said.

“Exactly. But before that,” Aizawa gazed at you from over the lid of his coffee cup. “How have you been? And tell the truth.”

You slumped in your seat a little. “Honestly, I was starting to get a bit anxious when you didn't talk to me, or at least text me. I thought that maybe I had done something wrong.”

“You didn't.”

“I know that, and I know you were just busy. I can get a little inside my own head at times.”

“Noted. Now, moving on to the business at hand.” Aizawa set down his coffee and folded his hands. “Y/N, I would like to enter into a D/s dynamic with you.”

You blinked, a bit taken aback by his bluntness. But this was Aizawa; did you really expect anything less from the hyper-rational man. Taking a fortifying sip of your drink, you let the words hang in the air between the two of you before you vocalized your answer.

“Ok. Yes, I’d like that.”

Aizawa nodded once before reaching into his bag and pulling out a folder and a couple pens. He placed them on the table in front of you and opened the folder to reveal a thick packet of paper. You leaned over to scan the first page, which consisted of a large block of text. Instantly, one word jumped out at you: contract.

You tapped the word. “This says ‘contract’. Is this legally binding?”

“It’s not a legal contract,” Aizawa explained. “But more of a way to establish the boundaries of our dynamic. It includes things like safewords, honorifics, hard and soft limits, aftercare requirements, etcetera. Anything I’ll need to know to make sure you have the most positive experience possible.”

You flipped through the papers, and immediately your eyes began to swim at the sheer amount of stuff it contained. Slowly, you closed the packet and pushed it away slightly. Aizawa’s face turned worried. He reached out, settling a hand on top of the stack of papers.

“Is everything all right, Y/N? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.” Genuine concern filled his voice.

“No!” you exclaimed. “I want to, I really want to; there’s just… a lot there. Will you help me?”

Aizawa relaxed minutely. “Of course. Here, let’s start with the first and most important question.”

He got up, scooting his chair around so that he was sitting next to you. Aizawa brought with him the contract, a pen, and an extra paper you didn't see the purpose of. Then he flipped to the first question of the contract, using the extra paper to cover everything but that question.

“First and foremost, you need a safeword for us to use. It should be something you would never say during play, but not so strange that it would be hard to remember.”

“Can't we just use the stoplight system?” you asked. “That seems easy enough to remember.”

“We will use it, but you should also have a safeword.” Aizawa said. “I use the stoplight system for check-ins, so ‘red’ doesn't always mean the end of the scene. You can use your safeword to immediately end the scene, not just temporarily stop it.”

“That makes sense.” You looked around the cozy loft, searching for some inspiration. Your eyes lit on one of the pretty purple pillows lining the reading nook. “How about ‘lavender’?”

“Lavender works,” Aizawa said, writing it down on the paper. “Next, what sort of dynamic will this be?”

At least this question you had an immediate answer to. “Bedroom dynamic only, maybe the occasional pre-arranged instance outside of it.”

“That’s fair. Moving on to honorifics. Are there any you do or don't want to be called?”

“Nothing too degrading, please. Other than that, I trust you to come up with some good ones.”

“All right,” Aizawa agreed, scribbling a few things down. “As for myself, I tend to prefer either Sir, Master, or Daddy. How do those sound to you?”

“Maybe not Master yet, but the other two are fine. And maybe...” you hesitated.

“Maybe what? I won’t judge you for anything you say here, Y/N.”

You took a breath. “If there’s a chance we could do some student/teacher roleplay, maybe Professor or Sensei?”

“Teacher roleplay, huh? Somehow, I’m not surprised.” Aizawa made another note. “Are there any health conditions I should be aware of?”

“Nope! Unless general battery from hero work counts.”

“Well, that’s something we’ll both have to deal with, so we can definitely work around it. Can I have my arm back so that I can note that down?”

Embarrassed, you sat up. At some point in your conversation, you had leaned into Aizawa so that your head was almost resting on his shoulder. His tone of voice was teasing, quickly setting your nerves back at ease. The two of you took a moment to finish your pastries and take drinks of coffee. When you were both refreshed, Aizawa tapped the packet again.

“Ready for the next page?”

“I’m ready,” you said.

“Okay.” Aizawa flipped the page. “Preferred aftercare.”

“I don't actually know,” you admitted “But I think I’ll need cuddles immediately after.”

“I have a routine I like to follow that I’ve noticed helps a lot of subs. We can try that, and if you want to change anything, let me know.”

“That sounds good, then.”

And so it went, Aizawa asking you questions and you doing your best to answer them. That went on for a little while until the two of you had worked through almost half of the packet. Then he turned one more page and pushed the papers back towards you.

“This part I can't help you with, but feel free to ask me any questions you have.”

You looked at the paper to see a table laid out. Each row of the table listed a different kink. There were places to mark them as either a ‘yes’, a soft limit, or a hard limit, as well as a place to add comments or elaboration. You flipped a few pages ahead, eyes widening as you saw how in-depth the list of kinks went.

“One at a time, Y/N,” you muttered to yourself, using the extra sheet of paper to cover all but the first item on the list.

This part took significantly longer than the previous one. In all your research, you had no idea that there were this many kinks. There were many times you had to stop and ask Aizawa what something meant. At one point, he left you for a few minutes to go and fetch refills of your drinks. He also came back with a couple of sandwiches, hot off the cafe’s panini press.

Finally, you dropped your pen. “And done!”

“You got them all?” You nodded, and Aizawa reclaimed the packet to flip through it. “Excellent. Do you have any other questions?”

“Just one. What about your hard limits?”

Aizawa chuckled. “I doubt anything you could be into would cross one of my hard limits, but I don't put them on these contracts, just to be safe. Is there anything that wasn't listed here that you want to try?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “So now what? Do we just… sign on the dotted line?”

“Yes. You sign there, and I sign here.”

You took the pen Aizawa offered you and scrawled your signature on the line he indicated. He copied your actions, then carefully placed the signed contract back in its folder. You watched the paper disappear into Aizawa’s bag, the realization of what you had just done washing over you. A strange emotion bubbled up in your chest, one that took you a moment to identify. It wasn't fear or apprehension, or any sort of nerves.

It was complete elation.

“Hey, Aizawa?” you called softly. “Can… can I hug you?”

Aizawa smiled. “Of course you can.”

He held out his arms to you, and you didn't hesitate to bury yourself in his chest. Aizawa held you tightly, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. You tilted your face up to look at him.

“Thank you so much for this, sir,” you said, testing out the honorific.

“Of course, honey,” Aizawa responded.

The sweet pet name said in his deep voice had you melting further into his embrace, making him chuckle. “I take it you like that one? I've got more: princess, little one, baby girl .” He bent down, putting his mouth right next to your ear.

“Kitty-cat.”

You whimpered, tilting your head until you caught Aizawa’s lips in a sweet, clumsy kiss. He quickly brought a hand to your cheek, lifting your chin so he could kiss you deeper. The two of you parted on a gasp, a dopey smile on your lips and a smirk on Aizawa’s.

“You really like that, don't you? Do you wanna be my little kitty-cat?”

“ Yes, ” you breathed, trying to steal another kiss.

But Aizawa was too quick. He pressed a final peck to your forehead before pulling out of your reach. “As much as I wish we could stay longer, I have papers to grade, and I know for a fact you have homework to do.”

***********************************************

Later that evening, you were sitting at your desk, finishing up some of that homework Aizawa had mentioned. He had offered you a ride home from the cafe, but you had opted to take the bus in order to minimize the chances of your peers seeing you together. Still, he had elected to stay at the bus stop with you until you were safely on your way.

You were still a bit in awe of the events of the day. When you had woken up this morning, you had been nothing more than a young woman interested in kink, without a way to experience it. Now, you had a real, actual dominant! Not only a dominant, but Shouta Aizawa, a man you knew and trusted (and maybe still had a little bit of a crush on). And judging from your encounter in the classroom, he certainly knew what he was doing.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft ping from your phone. The screen was lit up with a text from Aizawa that you hurried to open.

Aizawa: Hello, Y/N.

Y/N: Hello, Aizawa! Is everything ok?

Aizawa: Yes, everything’s fine. I’ve been looking at my schedule, and I have next Saturday free. Are you available as well?

Y/N: Yeah, I’m free! Why, if you don't mind me asking?

Aizawa: I would like that to be the day we try our first scene together if that works for you.

Y/N: Absolutely! Where do you want to… do it, I guess?

Aizawa: I have an apartment in the city. Be there around noon, and bring a bag with a change of comfortable clothes as well as any aftercare items you need.

*Aizawa sent an address.*

Y/N: Ok, I’ll be there! Oh, and sir?

Aizawa: Yes?

Y/N: Thank you, again. Thank you so much.

Aizawa: Of course, kitty-cat.

You turned off your phone, abandoning the desk in favor of flopping down on your bed. One week. You had a little over one week to get ready for your first official session with Aizawa.

You were pretty sure the wait was gonna kill you.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #Kat's Writing #bnha shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader

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princehrry-writings · 3 years

Text

Angel with a Shotgun

here we go. this popped into my head after i watched a tiktok about angel shots. if you go on a date and don't feel safe for any reason, please please please find a safe way to remove yourself!! asking for an angel shot is a great way to do that!!

WARNING: tw mentions of implied SA, stalking, harassment, police, EMT's, hospitals, alcohol, being drugged, swearing,

please don't read this if any of this stuff makes you uncomfortable. i don't get graphic with anything but still, put yourself first and be safe!! i love you <3

wordcount: 1907

Harry Styles x Reader

masterlist

It started off as a normal night. Y/n had met this guy in class and he’d asked her out for drinks. She didn’t get any bad vibes from him, none of her friends had heard anything bad about him, so she deemed him a suitable guy to go have a fun night with.

She’d met him at a bar just off campus and was having a really great night! The pair were dancing and talking and laughing, genuinely enjoying herself for the first time in a long time on a first date.

In Y/n’s experience, usually guys were creeps and girls never decided she was what they were looking for, so she had a hard time in the dating world. This guy, Jack his name is, seemed ok. Keyword being seemed.

She should have known. When he asked to meet her at a bar all the way across town, she should have put it together that he wasn’t what she was looking for. He didn’t put up too big of a fight when she insisted they meet at the bar closer to campus, that way she would know people there and be in a familiar place if she needed to get away from him quickly.

When he started making comments that were off putting to her, things she doesn’t really want to repeat in fear of actually vomiting all over the table, she starts looking for a way out. He keeps trying to play footsie with her under the table and is getting visibly frustrated at her lack of participation, so she tells him she’s going to get them another round of drinks after finishing the one that was already on the table and quickly exits the booth before he can protest.

Harry had been watching from across the room at the bar, seeing this couple who looked like they were on a first date. He watched as they laughed and talked, getting to know each other. But as the night went on, it seemed the woman was getting more and more uncomfortable.

He had told his coworkers to keep an eye out for the two in case anything was to go down, and when he sees her get up and make her way over to his bar, he has a feeling he knows where this is going.

“What can I get for you, love?” He asks her, leaning over the counter to hear her better. She sniffles a little, and takes a deep breath. Leans in before timidly asking.

“Can I get an angel shot?”

Harry’s senses are quickly kicked into gear and he nods, gesturing to his coworker that he’s gonna get this taken care of before meeting her on the other side of the bar. What neither of them had realized was that 1. Jack was walking up to them and 2. he had slipped something into her drink apparently because suddenly she could barely hold her own body weight. Harry caught her before she hit the ground and Jack rushed over, playing the part of concerned boyfriend but the bartender saw right through it.

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to back up.” He tells the man, authority very present in his voice. Jack doesn’t take well to this, eyebrows furrowing and voice lowering in defense.

“S’cuse me mate, but I’m gonna take my girl home. She’s had a few too many, f’you know what I mean.” He chuckles and goes to scoop her up. Harry stops him, putting a hand on the guy's chest, stepping between the girl and this guy.

“You'll do no such thing. This girl has obviously been roofied and it’s you she was running away from. The only thing you’ll be doing tonight is talking to the police, who are making their way in right now to do with you what they will.” Harry says, watching the color drain from this bloke's face. He turned around, ready to make a full run for it but was stopped by not only the police but also a crowd of other guys who heard what was going down and were ready to step in if assistance was needed.

“I didn’t do anything wrong here! She was trying to take advantage of me!” He cries as he’s put in handcuffs and taken away.

“Yeah, it’s obvious the one who’s passed out cold because she was drugged was trying to take advantage of you.” Harry yells after him before turning around and scooping the girl into his arms. Due to the commotion and the presence of not only police but also paramedics, the premises was cleared and the bar was shut down for the night. Harry held the passed out girl close to his body, having had his coworker fetch his jacket from the break room to keep her warm now that the club wasn’t filled with body heat, and waited for the paramedics to come in for her.

When they come in and place her on the gurney, she starts to stir. Little whines and groans escape from her and the EMT’s check her vitals, deeming her stable and letting Harry know she’s going to be ok. He decided to follow to the hospital just so she has a familiar face when she wakes up and has someone to explain her situation that isn’t a scary doctor.

. *

It’s a few hours of unrestful sleep at her bedside and his co-worker showing up with a change of clothes for him when she finally starts to come to.

Groaning and reaching up to hold her head but realizing her arms are too heavy to move, she rasps out, “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital,” Harry explains, wanting to reach out and hold her hand but not wanting to startle her, “You’re ok but the doctors wanted to keep you overnight for observation.”

“You’re the bartender I asked for the angel shot aren’t you?” She questions after a pregnant pause. He hums a confirmation and she looks over his face a few times, before tears well in her eyes.

“What happened?” A few tears fall from her eyes. She can’t remember much after leaving the table, just the sight of green eyes and curly brown hair nodding at her when she asked for the shot. The rest is pretty much a blur, just random flashes of scenes she can’t quite make out in her head.

“You came over and asked me for the shot and then a few minutes later you passed out. The bloke you were with slipped something in your drink. And unless something happened at the table that I didn’t see, then nothing else happened. Do you remember anything happening at the table?” He explains, hoping her answer is no.

He’d learned her name from the EMT’s who checked your ID once you were loaded into the ambulance but he didn’t know the name of the man she was with. He realizes she doesn’t know his name either.

“No, was just being a sleazy dick. I don’t know how he could have slipped me something, I didn’t get up before I went to you. Must’ve turned my head for a bit too long. God, I should’ve known this was gonna happen!” She groans but he shakes his head.

“You can’t blame yourself for this, darling! He’s a sleazeball, a no good lowlife. S’not your fault.”

“What’s your name?” She voices, peering into his pretty green eyes.

“M’Harry,” he smiles, timidly reaching for her hand, rubbing his thumb soothingly across the soft skin.

“Thank you for staying with me Harry! For helping me…” Y/n says quietly. He shakes his head with a small smile.

“No need to thank me, pet. Would do it over and over again.”

Her smile, while tired and defeated, was enough to show him her gratitude. She feels a weight lift off her chest, hearing that nothing bad happened after she got to him.

She knows it’s probably just nightingale syndrome, but Y/n thinks Harry is terribly adorable. With his messy brown curls and tired green eyes that make it look like he hasn’t slept in ages. She thinks she could see herself going out with him, which is an odd thought considering what happened last night. You’d think that would be enough to turn her off to men for good, but there's just something about him. But now isn’t the time to bring any of that up.

“I’ll call a nurse, tell em’ you’re awake.” He voiced, making his way to the door after gently placing her hand back on the bed.

. * .

“Ms. I’m just calling to let you know the restraining order has gone through. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Y/n felt a weight lift off her chest. After months of being harassed and stalked, she would finally be left alone. Harry leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, stroking the loose hair out of her face.

“S’ finally over, lovie. It’s all over!.” He whispered in her ear, pulling her closer to him, rubbing up and down her thighs. She felt tears spring to her eyes, tears of relief, tears of joy, but also tears of sadness because the last few months had been some of the hardest of her life. She was ready to move on and be done with this nightmare.

When Jack had found out Y/n and Harry got together after that night, it’s like it activated something inside him. Like he thought she was just playing hard to get and he had to literally stalk her to get her attention. He seemed to think she was playing a game. Somewhere in his twisted little mind he had the audacity to think she actually wanted him.

He’d sit right next to her every single class period and would get up and move next to her when she tried to get away with him. He’d show up at her house, sitting across the street just watching her front door, he’d call her phone and text her, he’d wait outside her other classes and follow her around campus. She complained to her university, told them what was going on and they didn’t really do anything. She went to campus security and they brushed it off because “She wasn’t in any danger. He just wants to get to know you.”

So she finally was forced to file a restraining order. Her case was still open, from when he got arrested that night at the bar. They're charging him with second degree assault and criminal harassment because apparently she’s not the only girl he’s done this to. Many other women had spoken up since news of that night had spread around campus. Yet still, the university did nothing.

Harry stood by you every step of the way, picking up the shattered pieces on hard days. He wanted to beat the shit out of this guy and he would if it wouldn’t interfere with the case. He knew you needed him and he didn’t want to chance anything.

There was a pregnant silence between the two lovers. Just letting the silence wash over them, letting themselves breath freely without this weight suffocating them, they basked in it.

It wasn’t completely over, because there was still a trial, but he wouldn’t be coming around without getting arrested again.

That was enough for Y/n to breathe easy.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #x reader #harry x reader #bartender!harry #bartender!harry styles x reader #bartneder!harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #bartender!harry styles #tw sa #one direction #fan fiction #one shot #angel shot

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catastrophe-at-sixteen · 3 years

Text

strawberries and cigarettes (m)

Jungkook x reader

“For a biology project, you and your class are going on a field trip to collect evidence for your hypothesis. It is all going well until the dark haired nuisance called Jeon Jungkook decides to piss you off.”

Also - a nerd. The resident bad boy. The police. Annoying friends. A loose psycho killer. What could go wrong?

This is my first time ever uploading any fics !! im super nervous haha - i'll probably post a little of each one and see how it goes !!

Jungkook x reader.

This is your classic enemies to lovers but with a slight little twist!

This is set in the 80s/90s and is your typical bad boy/nerd girl trope- but , there is a killer on the loose. I mean this is kind of based on jack the ripper (serial killer) and my teenage fantasies of falling for bad boy jungkook. I hope you’ll give it a go and tell me what you think !!! <3

Tw : cursing, killings, descriptions of death and psychopaths, masturbation , making out, smut.

WC : 11K

also a big massive thank you to @ggukkiereads for helping me gain the confidence to write and dedicate time to finishing this ! ik its been a while since we spoke but much love to u angel <3 may u always have the best !

Begrudgingly the students lag off the bus at 10pm, finally having reached their destination.

Tired and sore from their journey the teachers find no trouble in distributing bedrooms for everyone.

When your name is called out along with Tiffany you internally groan - great you think one of the most plastic girls in the school all to myself.

You grimace but make no argument as you could have gotten worse you suppose.

As you grab your belongings and ignore her protests that she doesn't want to room with a loser like you, a dark clad figure pushes past you, almost tripping you over.

Angrily you shout

"Watch where you're going you prick"!

Yet he doesn't so much look in your direction.

Under the dim moonlight you can faintly make out the low blunt of a cigarette in a tattoo clad hand - so it was the infamous Jungkook.

Honestly you didn't understand why all the girls fawned over him when he was just a rude and ignorant asshole. Sure, he had a pretty face but no good soul to match.

Calming yourself, as it was unlikely that you'd ever receive an apology from the school rebel you just head to your new room.

The school had organised a biology trip so that you could gather authentic evidence on the correlation of birds and wood growth in a certain designated area and honestly you were excited- not having enough expenses to get out of town when you were younger meant that this was a treat for you and paired with you being a biology major your inner geek was surfacing pretty quickly.

You move into your room and begin unpacking your things ignoring the chatter coming from your new roommates.

You set everything nicely, precisely -just to your liking. Maybe some would call you fussy, but you like to think of yourself as organised and classy.

You don’t have many thoughts that night as you lay down for bed, but you do hear the news playing in the background.

" a killing has not been sighted for a time breaking the pattern of the 1-week intervals in which they have been happening, but police still advise to remain on high alert at all times. "

You shudder as you think about it, a killer on the loose in the country and everyone powerless to stop him.

He fed of the insecurities of people, the fear of not being safe. He did a damn well good job at it as well.

You look outside and see the police on night duty setting up, the country while terrified also was reluctant to admit the threat and instead of protecting you properly they had merely sent police force units as glorified bodyguards to ' keep you safe '.

You sigh, as you climb under your covers those problems seem like a long way away from you as you drift off with an empty mind.

It was morning, the sun was shining brightly through the windows giving an orange glow to the room.

You were up before your roommates, had brushed your teeth and were already preparing for your project.

You had to do well, you were depending on a scholarship for university, your family could simply not afford it otherwise.

When your first signs of morning hunger begin to strike you venture outside your room in order to satiate yourself. You find that it’s still quiet only a few students up like yourself, you find a coffee machine and immediately begin to make one for yourself.

“While you're at it could you make one for me too".

a deep voice drawls out.

You almost jump out of your skin at the sound his voice breaking the silence you had been enjoying. Jeon Jungkook.

You scowl at him, choosing to ignore him carrying on making your own cup.

He whistles under his breath.

“wow, edgy or a bitch? I can’t decide".

He taunts you.

You roll your eyes at him and sigh in annoyance, his eyebrows raise at this.

“you’re clearly not a morning person".

He speaks.

You mutter under your breath.

" or maybe I’m just not a YOU person, not everyone lives to be nice to you. "

He lifts his hands up in a mock surrender.

“Okay, okay I get it it's a bad time for you jeez.... I suppose I'll have to make my own coffee".

He moves closer to you, totally invading your personal space, clearly, he had never heard of a personal bubble! You scowl and try to move away but he’s faster and is hovering over you before you know it. He looks down at you with those pretty dark eyes.

They’re so gorgeous.

Not that it matters to you because he is still an asshole, and he still ruined your morning.

“get out of my face Jeon Jungkook".

You say between clenched teeth.

You’re not some sort of pushover.

Yes, you're clever, as society classes a nerd but you're not one to let people walk all over you.

If he’s shocked, he doesn’t let on, just hums and lets you walk away, which you do, a little aggressively. You got back to your room and let out a sound of annoyance, the girls are still sleeping.

You sigh.

This was going to be a long trip.

After an uneventful morning, the wait was over and finally the teachers had called you to gather in the common area. Much to your dismay however there would be no actual data collecting until the police had secured the area, which meant that your whole day was pretty much wasted. The other students were chatting and gossiping and being idiots as per usual.

It’s not that you thought you were better than them, it's just that they were so mundane, so lifeless. They were just living on with no sense of direction. You suppose that's what you get for attending a school for rich kids though.

You could never fit in.

So, you never tried. People took pity on you every now and then offered you a smile. You smiled back but that was it. Your thoughts are running and to clear your head you decide to go outside for a little breather.

There isn’t much, just a few abandoned train tracks that seemingly lead into nowhere, a few broken fences and lots of grass. Not much time after this you head to bed.

Finally, the day had arrived, you could collect your samples.

You are so glad that it’s an individual project because you honestly cannot even imagine working with one of those air heads.

You shudder at the memory of having to work with Taehyung last semester for a chemistry practical.

You had to basically pull all the weight for your grade.

So, you get on working your way through your work and proving or disproving your hypothesis.

You’re pleased at the work that you completed. Not entirely satisfied but satisfied enough, for now.

You let out a stiff yawn, you need to stretch and need a little fresh air since you had spent the last few hours writing up your data and making graphs to compliment them.

You forgo your jacket since the weather isn’t so bad.

It’s nice.

When you go outside there are quite a few students already there, goofing around. There is also a pretty scenery, that in all honesty you had not appreciated until right now.

“Wow" you mutter under your breath.

Maybe I should try living outside my own head sometimes.

You spot some students surrounding a police officer and the curiosity gets the better of you and your soon wandering around the outskirts of their conversation.

Alas, it was merely a fruitless conversation. The police officer telling the other about his escapades and how they will be good in hands.

You lose yourself to your own thoughts again and look at the scenery. Until a little scuffle, breaks you out of your thoughts.

“What was that? There was a movement down there!! “

A boy called Josh calls out.

The police officer had also noticed it, then a sound of a gunshot sounds through the air.

The police officers curse and begin to get ready to scout the area. They want you all to go away, be safe inside but you’re all young adults- you want to see what’s going on.

Everyone gathers, watching the officers.

You scan the area; you spot the balcony that looks over the area just in front of the cabins.

Perfect you think that’s the perfect spot to see what’s going on.

So, you begin to climb up the steps to that room, when you get there, you can see everything.

You see a dead dog, a dead bird and the gun which had killed them laid out to where the officers were heading.

Fear grips your heart; your heartbeat is erratic. You think you see the shape of figure retreating into the distance but before you can look again, you feel the ground give way under you.

You let out a shriek, feeling yourself falling.

Is this truly how my life end you wonder I didn’t even get to complete my PhD?

Yet, instead of the hard fall that your body had been anticipating; your landing is softer and lets out a low grunt.

You're sure you're dead and have entered heaven.

Slowly you register a warm feeling under your legs and a secure one at your waist.

oh, this feels nice.

you think, eyes still closed until you hear some chaos in the distance.

what's happening?

Why is heaven so noisy? Are they partying because I’ve arrived? Was I actually an angel all this time am I coming home?

Ah you think this must be the angels- I knew all those days spent doing charity would help me.

You open your eyes and you’re met with bambi eyes staring back at you.

Slowly you begin to piece the rest of your angel together.

“Jeon Jungkook? “

You try and raise your voice to compliment your surprise, but it comes out in a more whisper.

“But this, Jungkook, you were an angel all this time? “you say.

His eyebrows knot together in confusion.

“What are you talking about strawberry?”

You gasp.

"Do we all get code names in heaven? You’re a pretty angel Jungkook. “

Then your eyes zero in on the scar on his cheek.

“Aren’t Angel’s supposed to be blemish free? Is that? Are you fallen? Wait.... for me? Are you my angel Jungkook? “

His eyes, which had previously shown confusion are now coloured with amusement.

“You talk a lot don’t you my little strawberry”.

You vaguely hear the sounds behind you before you begin to feel drowsy and fall limp the arms of your unexpected angel.

Jungkook was, of course no angel, your delirious ass was just doing and saying delirious things. You were going to be mortified when you woke up.

When you come to your room in a dark room, tucked into a warm bed. Your headaches aches as if someone is using a sledgehammer to hit it every second.

‘Agh’ you let out a pained groan.

What even happened? you wonder in your head.

You move quickly, getting out of bed ignoring your protesting limbs. You almost reach the doors until a pair of arms trap you.

‘woah woah where do you think you're going?’

You let out a scream, completely startled. A hand comes to cover your mouth.

‘man, you really do have a set of lungs, don’t you? ‘

You stop struggling in his embrace to match his voice to a face. Its familiar.

‘Jeon Jungkook?’ you let a little unsure and panic still evident in your voice.

‘your one and only’

You frown.

‘mine?’

He smirks at you,

‘that's right yours strawberry’.

You shake your head.

‘are you smoking something? Are you high right now?’

He pouts a little then, it changes his look completely. He looks a little cute.

‘you don't remember? ‘ he cocks his head to the side and points to himself. ‘I'm your angel’.

You scoff.

‘Please in what world are YOU an angel? You're far from it’.

Then it all comes back to you.

Jungkook watches as the realisation begins to show on your face.

‘Oh my god I had a concussion, you cannot be serious right now ‘

He chuckles.

'The words still came out of your mouth' Jungkook counters, he leans closer to you, his face way to close for your liking.

You feel your face grow warm from his proximity, but you don't give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

You scoff and push him away.

‘You're insane’.

He accepts the distance you've placed between the two of you and he chooses to smirk at you from where he is standing.

‘And you're crazy for me’.

You let out an incredulous laugh, not believing him.

‘Oh, my lord, please shut up for the sake of my sanity’.

He chuckles at your flustered state and you scramble your brain to find a change of subject.

‘okay whatever now just excuse me because I need to go back to my room’.

You move to begin walking to the door, but his voice halts your movements.

‘This is your room now’.

You whip around to face him.

‘What?! Ha as if Jeon, why would they room us together- were supposed to separate for the opposite genders- which I totally get when you're involved’ you say disbelief painting your voice. You whisper the last part though.

He puts his hands into his pockets and shrugs.

‘Protection?’

You set him a hard stare.

‘Save your lame ass men superiority talks for someone else i am having a severe case of I'm not interested’.

Why the hell would you need Jungkook for protection, it reeks of patriarchy and you hate it.

He shrugs.

‘Listen princess I don't know why either really to be honest but I'm not complaining-’

You don't bother entertaining him for much longer.

This can't be true. You cannot be paired into a room with him. He cannot be your new roommate - heck now tiffany doesn't seem so bad. Flirting asshole, you mutter under your breath as you begin searching for your teacher.

You only learn a bitter truth, due to the collapsing of the room you had to be relocated into another room and the only person without a roommate was Jungkook. They ‘trusted’ you enough that you would be able to handle it and not to do anything you were not supposed to.

‘We trust you, y/n’ was what she had told you.

You spend your time cursing out both her and Jungkook as you gather your belongings to move into your new room.

You're so caught up in your own thoughts that you don't notice a foot that comes out to trip you.

You look up and see the faces of three stupid bitches.

Tiffany Jessica and Irene.

They seemed to consider themselves above everybody else, though you've no idea why. Aside from flawless looks they seemed to live pretty empty life in your eyes. They were living definitions of empty shells walking around.

You get up quietly from the ground, you'll gain nothing from engaging with them, maybe you'd lose a few brainless. You just want to go back and rest - your head is killing you.

But to your disappointment they begin to talk.

‘Well, well well, if it isn't the school's new slut moving into MY boyfriend's room’.

You have to let a little laugh at this. This one is seriously deluded. Jungkook didn't do relationships you knew that. Everybody knew that. They had hooked up about 3 months ago and even though he does his best to ignore her she still insists that he is her boyfriend. It's just pathetic and a bit sad you suppose. Her obvious attraction to him which he just does not reciprocate.

She becomes enraged at your actions.

‘listen here you little bitch you better not even think of starting anything with my man-’ she spits out at you.

You snap back then, unable to hold your tongue.

‘I am not a slut, and I will not go after your man- which fyi he is not. He is a human and he doesn’t belong to you he never has’

She grows red at your words.

‘you little piece of shit-’

She raises her hand but just then a voice interrupts her and she halts her actions.

‘well if it isn't my new roomie, l’ll take that from you strawberry’ Jungkook says, too cheery for your liking, your still contemplating hitting Jessica.

Jessica begins speaking up, but he ignores her turning to you.

Your mouth almost drops open at his dismissal of Jessica but then again, she is annoying, and he cannot be immune to that.

‘Jungkoooook’ she whines when he doesn’t respond to her the first time.

He still doesn’t entertain her.

He moves to take your things from you, but she speaks again, latching onto his arm.

‘just leave her -cshe's just an annoying stuck-up bitch’.

He responds to this under his breath laughing.

‘reminds me of someone ’

She doesn't understand his comment.

‘huh?’ she says almost comically.

‘who baby?’ she pouts at him ‘my poor baby having to deal with such people, just leave with me and we can-’

‘no’ he sets her with a hard stare.

It's like she has forgotten that you're there, so you decide to use this to your advantage, letting Jungkook deal with them. You move to get your suitcase, but a hand stops yours. Its Jungkook.

‘I don’t think so strawberry - I'll be getting those for you’.

You turn to look at him scowl adorning your features.

‘I don’t need your help Jeon’.

He smirks at you.

‘no no - I insist’.

He dismisses Jessica with a wave of his hand and begins to walk away your suitcase in his hand, which prompts you to follow along.

‘What. Was. That. Jungkook?!’ you say when the door closes, you’re fuming because he had made it seem as though you were dating or doing things together which meant that they would keep bothering you, which is just something that you don’t want.

He turns around to face you.

‘oh, don’t get your panties in such a twist, I just needed to get the fuck away from her’.

He sounds angry and this is the Jungkook that you are more accustomed to. Not the flirty one you have been seeing. Hopefully he had given up on whatever he was trying to achieve with that. He was a rude asshole who was just to used to seeing things come out in his favour.

‘excuse me, you just fuelled her whack ass thoughts and next time don’t use me as your escape route’ you say matching his hostile tone.

‘oh, don’t be such a priss, it saved you as much as it saved me’.

An exasperated noise escapes your throat.

‘well maybe you should have kept it in your pants lover boy’.

He sets you with a hard stare.

‘oh, shut up - you don’t know me’ he grits out.

You cock your head to the side much like he had done to you earlier in the day.

‘hmmm I think I know you pretty well Jungkook, you're not as unreadable as you like to think, Jeon Jungkook the infamous bad boy who uses girls to fuel his ego and is used by girls to fuel their own ego and status quo among their own stupid--’

You do not get to finish you sentence however because you're harshly being pinned to the door. His grip on you is hard and it stings but you meet his gaze.

‘shut the fuck up y/n’ the tone of his voice is almost carnal, animal like.

You seriously had hit a nerve.

‘I go beyond your perceptions of me- you little miss goody two shoes’.

You spit back in his face.

‘I've yet to see you act more like a crazed rabbit Jungkook and to be honest I don’t plan on finding out the depths of your character either. I don’t fucking care about you’.

You push him aside and move to unpack your suitcase.

He mutters something under his breath that you can't hear, and he walks out slamming the door behind him.

‘well, that was fun’ you say and begin to take out your notes and books that you will need through the day.

When you wake up the next you feel like you’ve been hit by a ton of bricks. The painkillers had given you the illusion that you were okay. You look a mess, you're tired, you cannot believe that this happened. You had been looking forward to this for so long, they had told you that another student would be collecting your data. Your new roommate. Jeon Jungkook. He was going to be collecting your data.

This is preposterous! He would probably sabotage you on purpose! This cannot happen, but they wouldn’t budge from their choice. You huff as you look out of the window, where you could be collecting your data along with the other students. Darn you and your curiosity.

They always did say didn’t they- that curiosity killed the cat.

Your walking around the room, pacing- that’s how bored you are. You had reorganised your things 3 times and colour coded all you notes, redrew your graphs, you had done everything that you thought would keep you busy but here you are sitting with nothing to do. You look around the room see Jungkook's things laying on the ground.

You sigh into the empty room again and just lay down waiting for them to come back. You end up falling asleep.

You're stirred from your sleep, quite rudely by a book being thrown at the foot of your bed. You sit up, still groggy and look at Jungkook.

‘what the hell man’

He stares at you blankly.

‘There's your work priss’

You're not bothered by his hostile tone instead open the book and seeing what he had done, or you suppose looking at it what he had not done. The more you look at the work the more the frown on your face deepens.

‘what the hell is this Jungkook?’

He looks up at you annoyed.

‘the work? Thought you were meant to be a genius?’

You scowl at him.

‘this Jungkook? Is unacceptable a nursery kid could do way better than this !’

He rolls his eyes at you.

‘and? That’s what you're going to get priss so deal with it’.

You make an exasperated sigh.

‘you've used the wrong measurement and everything Jungkook’.

‘look - I don’t care. I didn’t want to do this for you anyway’.

‘like I wanted YOU to do it for me’.

You sigh,

You keep bumping into him everywhere, you know he is your roommate but he is always there at the cafeteria taking the last donut which you had been craving pushing in line, making unnecessary comments and he makes the room so messy!

It’s the same thing for the next few outings, Jungkook comes with the same half assed versions of the data you need.

You try, you really you try so hard to use the data sets he provided but its no use. They're absolutely useless, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Your going to sneak out early in the morning, you have to sneak past the guards which as you’ve gathered won't be as hard as one may think because they are not good or much invested in their job anyway.

You prepare yourself and head to set out in the morning. You quietly get up so as not to disturb or wake Jungkook. If he sees you, you know that there will be trouble.

You throw on a hoodie and grab a notebook, a pen and your watch. You have to be back before anyone can notice that you're gone. You steel yourself one last time, giving yourself a pep talk and sneak out. You hold your breath as you walk past the room of your supervisor and out the back door of the cabins.

This isn't so bad you think. Once you're out of sight of the guards and you think your safe, you let out a sigh of relief and do a little shimmy out of your happiness. You are so pleased and proud of yourself. What you didn’t know that behind you, watching your every move was a boy covered in tattoos with a cigarette in his hand watching you with an amused face.

Jungkook was, not as you thought asleep when you had snuck out. He was also outside, leaning on the side of the building a cigarette in his hand, he couldn’t sleep that night, it happened to him on most nights so he routinely wakes up to have a smoke. On this particular day there is not the usual eerie morning silence that he is used to, but a few grunts and hisses to accompany it. He furrows his brows.

Is that? He thinks y/n!?!?!?!?!?

No way he thinks what the hell is she up to?

Then he catches sight of your notebook and pen.

'Oh, what a nerd' he mutters under his breath. Then he smirks.

He can totally use this to his advantage.

He stubs his cigarette, pulls his hoodie over his head and follows you.

Your heart is still racing you honestly cannot believe that you. l/n f/n are doing this.

‘What a badass’ you say into the silence.

‘Badass? Sneaking out to do bloody work is your idea of badass?’ a voice speaks up behind you.

You shriek startled and are met with Jungkook.

Why is it always him?

‘what in the bloody tarnation's.... are you trying to kill me Jungkook?!’ you say putting your hand on your heart.

He grins pleased at the reaction he had elicited from you.

He cocks his head to the side.

‘what the hell are you doing here ?!’ you hiss at him.

‘could ask you the same thing strawberry’ he replies.

You look at him.

You were so sure that you had been quiet, how could he be here to ruin everything.

‘you do realise that I actually have name, and it's not strawberry’ you say to him.

He shrugs.

‘Yeah but you always smell like them’.

You scoff;

‘and you always reek of cigarettes.’

He frowns but then asks you again.

‘what are you doing here?’

You think of excuses,

‘I'm - I'm on a walk’ you say.

He lifts his eyebrow up.

‘a walk?’

You nod.

‘that's right for my daily exercise its been a pain to be stuck indoors’.

He snorts.

‘you're on a walk with your graph paper pad and pencil case?’

You curse inside your head.

‘yeah I am a nerd after all’ you say, hoping and praying that he’ll just let you go on your way.

He doesn’t

‘I don’t know, you look awfully suspicious to me, do tell why you're heading to the sight of our data collection points when the trail track is in the opposite direction?’ he says.

You rack your brains for an answer.

‘well, I like an adventure’ you say, standing straight.

‘oh, is that so?’ he says laughter infiltrating his tone.

‘yes’, you say meeting his eyes.

‘hmm’ he says ‘I don’t believe you’ he says.

‘do you wanna know what I think?’ he continues.

He takes one step closer to you.

‘I think that our resident miss goody two shoes is sneaking off when told specifically that she can't’ his gaze burns into yours

You feel yourself going red out of embarrassment.

‘I literally have no idea what you're talking about Jungkook' you say breathless.

He leans closer and you can feel his body heat, he continues to bore his eyes into your own and you almost fall into his gaze until you feel your book being snatched out of your hand.

‘HEY!’ you say reaching for it.

But he holds it higher than himself, opens it to the last written on page.

‘new data collection points’ he reads out ‘and oh would you look at that ! It has todays dates written on it’ he says looking down at you with a squint in his eyes.

You huff.

‘well obviously I had to do this because how on earth could I let your lame ass results and data reading be used for my final piece – I'm not looking to fail’ you say venom laced in every word.

He scowls at you.

‘there was nothing wrong with my results princess’ he grits out.

‘oh, please save it’ you snap back ‘you didn’t even use the same measurements – your hopeless’.

‘well, if I'm so fucking useless you should do my work for me’ he says.

You set him a level stare.

‘what?’

‘you heard me’ he says with a roll of his eyes.

‘and why in the hell would I do that? I don’t care if you fail Jungkook, heck I don’t care if you get kicked out’ you tell him.

He shakes his head.

‘well, I mean I could go back right now and tell Miss Taylor-’ he begins.

You narrow your eyes at him.

‘You wouldn’t dare’.

He holds a staring contest with you.

‘oh, wouldn’t I?’ he says.

You both hold each other's gazes before you give in.

You cannot believe the audacity of this asshole.

‘fine whatever asshole’ you say folding your arms and turning around.

He grins in victory and places your notebook back into your hands.

‘chop chop partner get to it’ he says.

You glare at him.

‘partners pull equal weight Jungkook ‘

He rolls his eyes.

‘I don’t really care – you just need to get a move on’.

You turn around no longer wanting to deal with his annoying ass.

You make it forward a few steps before you stop and turn around.

‘why are you following me?’ you ask him.

He rolls his eyes at your apparent dumbness.

‘well smartass, there is a killer on the loose if you didn’t know’.

You freeze up for a second,

Shit

You had almost forgotten. You don’t let him see that you're scared.

‘and? ‘ you say feigning composure.

‘what the hell are you going to do if he pops out of the woods anyway?’

He shrugs.

‘I dunno actually a lot more than you could do anyway’

You stare at him.

‘I could be a black belt in karate for all you know’.

He laughs.

‘okay princess whatever - I just need to make sure that you're not going to fuck this up’.

So, you turn going to the place you need to, to collect your data pieces.

With having to do Jungkook's work as well, it takes a lot longer to complete than you would have liked.

He is surprisingly bearable in the mornings that you both sneak off though. He doesn’t say much. Just watches you – pretends he isn't though.

You catch him once. Its been about 2 weeks since you started this godawful task, and Jungkook's notes and work were in dire need of help so its taking you time. This time however you meet his gaze before he is able to pull away.

You cock your head to the side.

‘what are you staring at?’ you say placing your hands on your hips.

He says something inaudible under his breath.

‘what was that?’

He snaps at you.

‘do you think you have tie to stand around making idle talk with me? The work ain’t going to do itself princess.’

You huff in annoyance.

How dare he! This was just plain wrong anyway I should not even be doing this, but you knew it was the only way. You couldn't risk getting caught and with Jungkook you wouldn't be surprised if he really did rat you out you to all the teachers. And if he did well, you wouldn’t be receiving a very good reference.

It was during an early morning that you hear Jungkook walk off into the distance. Probably to smoke, such a bad habit you tsk.

But you're also done for the day – so you begin to head back on your own.

You feel the grass brush against your feet as you walk back. You’re humming along to that song that was always on the radio, when you hear it. A little whimper - then a cry. You know that you shouldn’t go to look, you know that you're paying for your curiosity already and you don’t need another thing to happen, but you just cannot help yourself!

You follow the sound, going on a detour from the track.

You do consider yourself somewhat of a badass but a serial killer? Yeah, they kinda scare the shit out of you. You hold your breath and walk as quietly and slowly as you can. You hear the whimper again to your left but its deeper into the woods.

As you walk closer you see a pool of blood - your eyes widen, and your heartbeat becomes erratic.

‘what the fuck?’ you whisper into the silence.

You walk closer to the body of the animal and you can feel your knees grow a little weak you can see a white paper which has been tainted red with the blood of the animal that was killed.

You gasp, taking it up in your hands. Your hands also become stained with the redness.

It's in Morse code.

-.-- --- ..- / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. -. .----. - / -... . / .-- .- -. -.. . .-. .. -. --. / --- ..- - / .- .-.. --- -. .

(YOU SHOULDN'T BE WANDERING OUT ALONE)

You look at it for a while and rack your brains to be able to translate it but no such look. Your mind is busy running at 100miles per hour. As you try and clear your head and look at the note one more time, but a noise in the distance pulls you way from any semblance of concentration that you could have obtained.

You frantically look around trying to locate where the sound had come from. Your senses are all on a high right now. You shove the piece of paper into your pocket and begin to go back the way that you came. After the first few steps you begin running your head running wild with the idea of being found dead in ditch. Your nearly at the main path which you had strayed from. You make it onto the path, and you bend over catching your breath when two arms encircle you from behind.

You let out a scream.

A hand is placed over your mouth.

‘shut the fuck up y/n’.

You recognise THAT voice. Its Jeon Jungkook. Why is this motherfucker always trying to scare you? Your turn around and hit him on the chest,

‘what the actual hell Jeon, you gave me a bloody heat attack and a half’.

He doesn’t respond. He is looking at you, his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes have a glint of anger. He is furious.

‘where the fuck did you go y/n?’ he says, he holds your wrist stopping you from hitting him again.

He holds it in the air holding your gaze.

‘I was.... walking back’ you didn't want him to know what you had found. He would probably tell you it was a bad idea to even translate it. Which it was, but what is life if not for taking risks?

You yank your hand from his grasp.

He looks at you an unreadable expression on his face.

“you’re a fucking liar “he says.

You scoff.

“oh please, what’s it to you anyway jungkook, you left me first “

He doesn’t say anything, but observes you, trying to look for signs of what you’re hiding.

He had found one too, a dead animal and a note written in Morse.

But he could read it and he knew he was in trouble

“Be careful, or your little girlfriend may be snatched from right under your arms “

He swore under his breath as he read it and immediately began to make his way back to you.

“strawberry?” he calls out but you’re not there.

You’re not there and he hates the feeling of dread that sits in his stomach.

He runs back the way you came, but he still finds no trace of you

“fucking hell where did she go?”

He almost gives up and is going to tell the police when you appear before him, out of breath and you look terrified.

He knows you’re lying, if you were where, you said you were, he would have seen you.

He narrows his eyes at you again.

“I left for two seconds and you ran off. Where the fuck did you go? “

He asks, he wants you tell him, needs you to, he’s overcome with this sense to protect you but you don’t trust him. He needs to change that.

He lets you believe that you have him fooled, that he believes your story and he begins to walk back to the cabins right before the call for breakfast is sounded. You follow after him breathing in a sigh of relief that he had believed you.

That night you find it difficult to sleep. You need to find out the meaning of the Morse code, but you don't have access to a book that will help you translate, meaning that you will have to ask around without looking too suspicious.

You decide that a police officer would do nicely, if you seem overly invested in their job, they would just give you the information.

You spot the officer who looks younger than most, you remember his name.

Park Jimin.

You approach him cautiously.

“Officer park?”

He turns around to face you, smiling softly.

Oh, he’s cute you think.

“yes miss?”

You smile at him warmly.

“nothing serious it’s just that I was wondering if you would like some company, it must be a little boring for you out here on your own “

You say to him and you’re glad you asked him because either way his face breaks out into a smile that has your heart fluttering.

“how very kind of you miss! And yes, a little company wouldn't hurt “, he grins at you.

As you strike up conversation, with the officer you fail to notice a figure dressed in black listening in on your conversation. Jungkook listens in as you try and get information out of officer. He knew it. You had also come across the same note, as he had. He wonders what yours said.

He leaves after a bit, leaving both of you oblivious to the fact that he was even there in the first place.

When you get back to your room, you see Jungkook sitting at the foot of his bed frown on his face.

You ignore him and write down the information you'd just got given by Officer Park. You felt a little bad manipulating him when he was so nice but you just had to know what it meant.

Jungkook speaks up.

“that was a nice conversation you were having with Officer Park “

He says,

You whip you’re head up to look at him and closing your notebook harshly.

“What? Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?”

He rolls his eyes

“Why would I be listening to the conservation of the school nerd with a cop? No, I just happened to hear in passing “

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

“That’s mighty rude of y-" you begin to retort before he cuts you off

“what’s a biology nerd like you need with Morse code?” He asks.

Your mind malfunctions for a moment until you bring yourself back together.

“A little extra knowledge hurts no one you know?” you say appearing nonchalant.

He narrows his eyes

“I know it”

You look at him

“you do?”

He nods,

“why need something translating?” he tries.

You think about it, but ultimately decided against showing him the note you found.

You have no clue what it says. You don’t want him understanding before you do.

You shake your head,

“No, I don’t “

You say, deciding enough is enough and you need to sleep now to be up in the morning.

The next morning you sleep in, meaning that you couldn’t do the work that was set out for you. You stretch and moan as you get out of bed when you sit up and open your eyes fully your locks onto the Bambi ones from across the room. You let out a shriek!

‘What the hell why were you watching me you creeper!’ you say pointing a finger at Jungkook.

He rolls his eyes at you.

‘oh, please don’t flatter yourself’.

‘why didn’t you wake me up? Its so late !’ you question him.

He looks at you and says words that you don’t think that you would hear.

‘I think that we should lay off for a bit strawberry’

You look at him in shock

‘but why!?’

He doesn’t really give you much of an answer in his usual Jungkook manner.

You sigh.

Over the next few weeks, you rarely bump into Jungkook, you see him sometimes in the cafeteria and you can always feel him just watching you it makes you grow warm when you notice his staring.

Jungkook is also going crazy. You drive him crazy.

You guess that you'll have to work at the same pace as everyone, truthfully you had actually caught up with your work that was missed a while ago, you were just doing extra readings to stay ahead. One step ahead of everyone. But you guess that that is going to be changed now.

It had been a while since you had been on your morning trips with jungkook and though you hate to admit it, you kind of missed it.

He wasn't as bad company as you thought he would be, he was oddly quiet which meant that without him talking as much, you really got to admire his beauty. And good lord was he handsome, you understand why people are attracted to him, when his mouth is closed, he’s fine. Basically, you became a little horny when you saw him, it had been ages since you had had sex even masturbated, since you now had room with him.

Jungkook has such strong sharp features which sometimes go all soft, if he pouts while he’s thinking or a bird catches his attention, his eyes will go big and doe like. It's cute. Everybody had two sides you suppose, yours was your horny side (lol what)

Okay maybe, more time to admire him was a bad thing, you did not need to have sexual fantasies with him, no, that was a big no no.

It's been a few weeks since Jungkook had asked you to lay low for a while and in that time, you had been asking around about the killer to the police. You tried your best not to seem suspicious about it though, if they caught on – well it wouldn’t exactly end well. So, you make slow progress, you did make progress though, however.

You could now understand the note and while it scared you, it also ignited something in you that you didn’t even know that you possessed inside of you. You wanted to outdo him, you want to find him, lead him into a trap or something like that anyway. You want to catch him.

Something in the back of your mind is telling you begging you to stop being so stupid, but you ignore and continue to daydream about catching this bastard.

But it can only cure your boredom for a while – you get bored and what better to do when you're bored than to read erotica novels?

You had packed this book with you – the secrets of the alluring painter in France. You had taken to reading at night time on some nights.

Like tonight.

You need a wind down, so you pull out your book, and it has such racy scenes that leave you clenching around nothing.

Your sexual imagination goes wild when you read the erotica in the book and the way they make it seem so fiery, you were no virgin - you knew what sex was like, but never has it been close to the way it is in the book.

You’ve allowed yourself to fall into this horrible habit, at night, when Jungkook is asleep to touch yourself, play with yourself, pretending it is you who is being touched by Kim Taehyung the painter with many secrets.

You feel yourself growing more frustrated with each passage you read, it becomes a little irritating and, you have to touch yourself or you'll go crazy, the man in the book was doing it so well, so hot.

Kim Taehyung, he was described as an utter beauty, soft black hair and soft eyes, a deep voice that just made the reader swoon, you close your eyes and reach your hands down to your shorts, they slip past the hem.

You wish you could moan, wish that you could be vocal, like you were in your bedroom when it was just you and your pillow, but there was one big problem and that was Jeon Jungkook.

Why did you have to room with him?

You lighten your breathing and listen for signs of him being awake, but he seems to be breathing really deep, he is asleep you assure yourself.

You turn the lamp off, at the side of your bed, setting the book on the bedside table.

You trail your hand down your stomach, much like Taehyung had done to the main character, he slowly lets his fingers flutter over the top of her shorts, and you do the same. You build the tension, like it's his beautiful hands working against you.

You pause and let your fingers slip past the hem of your panties, you trace over the fabric covering you - first over your mound, stroking sensually.

How had Taehyung done it?

Right yes, he had used his nails slightly and grazed over lightly, a slight pressure but nothing that hurt - it was just enough to make you squirm under your own touch.

You feel your own wetness, feel how obscene it is in the darkness of the night.

Jungkook is right there, and while it scares you, it also thrills you, you feel a new wave of arousal and adrenaline when you remember he is there.

Slowly and as quietly as possible you shuffle, moving to take your shorts off, it's a little loud but you think that you're okay, Jungkook is out like a log. After a moment you continue to tease yourself.

Running your fingertips over your lips, pressing down on your hole and clenching, withholding the need to hiss.

You raise your hand further and your fingers land right at the centre of your pleasure.

Your clit. Oh, the beautiful bundle of nerves.

You cover your mouth with a hand to stifle the moan that you almost let out when you begin to rub small circles around the sensitive nub.

When you can’t get enough your panties are next to go, and when the cold air hits your wet centre you have to hold your breath, shaky.

You reach down and gather your slick slowly, spreading it all over your centre, making yourself drown in your own arousal, you use your middle and ring finger to slide up and down at a pace that leaves you edged and eager for more, you need to bring yourself to the very edge to get yourself the release that you’re after, you free hand travels up to your ever sensitive boobs, you play with them, brushing over the nipple, making them perk and then groping them while you rub at your clit.

A dirty thought crosses your mind, when you remember the boy who was asleep across from you.

What if, he was the one to touch, the one touching you, with those beautiful hands of his, those big hands.

You stifle another moan, as you think about him, hovering over you, giving it to you just right. You had heard that Jungkook could actually make a girl cum while having sex, that made you a little interested. It’s just he always opens his mouth and is an ass and ruins everything. But right now, in your imagination, only his looks and reputation matter, you twist and turn his character to be someone that you can gain pleasure from.

You can the pleasure increase and you begin to fasten your speed until you feel the signs of your orgasm and then you pull away. Edging yourself.

Your breathing is a little heavy and your work on controlling it, both your hands go to fondle your breasts and you unconsciously lift your hips, humping the air, you lean down again and enter three fingers easily into your own heat.

The squelching sound heard is deafening in the silent room, your cheeks burn red and you pull out slowly, so that was a no no, you would have to focus on your clit for you orgasm. Which was fine because you were so sensitive from playing with yourself, you know that it would only take a few more strokes to get there.

You press the fingers that were just inside of you, against your sensitive bud and you rub in slowly circles and then fastening your place and then slowing once more.

Jungkook comes into your mind again, ugh, now his lips, his pretty pink lips and the way he licks them, and the way they glisten under the sun. What if they were attached to your clit, if he was using his face to give you pleasure, like Taehyung had done to the main character of the novel, God it was so filthy.

Its driving you insane and you love it, the frustration will only make your release all the more powerful.

After a while you feel the fire blooming in your bottom of your stomach, and you quicken your pace to the point where you feel light and the waves of pleasure rack over your whole body.

You press your hand to your mouth again to conceal the gasps that are escaping you, you sigh and fall back onto your pillow feeling so much better and lighter.

Gosh did that feel good. You were aware that in your mind alarms were going off in your mind. You had thought of Jungkook while masturbating. It was a line you have no idea why you crossed. How would you look him in the eye now?

After a while, you pull up your panties and shorts and you promise yourself a shower in the morning.

What you didn't know was that the raven-haired boy of your fantasies was in fact awake and now painfully hard as he listened to your filthy little moans and gasps, he grabs his own member in his pants, strokes slowly. He spreads the pre-cum over his member before setting the fast pace that he liked, his breaths through his nose – to conceal the way his breathing has become strained. His hair becomes damp from sweat and it sticks to his forehead. He came much faster that he would care to admit the thought of you right there yet unreachable the fact that you were so NAUGHTY under all that good girl.

Turning him on, making him needy.

He breathes heavy, thinking of you under him as he squirts out cum into his pants, Jungkook too showers in the morning after you.

After this Jungkook stays up at night, listening to you, seeing if you would do it again, you do and, on those nights, Jungkook cums at the same time as you. He feels a little pathetic, he knows that he can fuck a lot of girls in the class right, but it wasn't you, God he wants it to be you writhing underneath him.

It’s the next morning and you're getting ready for your shower.

You're gathering your clothes and shampoo and creams into a little bundle and are about to open the door to the shower, when it is opened for you. The song that you were softly humming gets stuck in your throat when you register that the door was opened by Jungkook.

A very naked Jungkook.

Your face grows red, and your eyes wander over his gorgeous body, the tattoos that trail up his arm and a few on his waist, God they looked amazing.

Your ogling comes to a stop when he clears his throat. Oh, shit you think - I was staring. You quickly look up and your eyes meet Jungkook's.

He is smirking at you and as soon as you meet his gaze, he lets his own wander over body – taken in the skin that was exposed in your pyjama shorts and a t-shirt that had been small for you since you turned 13 years old.

He looks up and down your body brazenly before meeting your eyes. He licks his lips, and you zero in on it. God it was so annoying that he was this hot.

How could this be happening now? When you had spent a while avoiding him? And him you? Why did this happen after you were thinking of him last night? Oh god you grow red again and you think what if he had heard you? God, that would be embarrassing. You look at his lips again, avoiding his gaze again but maybe his eyes would have been a better option because as soon as you look at his lips, the same filthy thoughts come back to you - you shift uncomfortably trying to calm yourself. In that time, you don't notice but Jungkook has come closer to you.

You register his closeness when a water droplet from his hair falls onto your cheek. You move away slightly.

You don’t realise it but in your extended silence of checking each other out the both of you have moved closer to each other. There is no longer what people would call a healthy distance between the two of you anymore. He looks down at you and licks his lips again. His hair is wet and the way he runs his hand through it – he looks so good like this. Your dirty thoughts run wild again. Its only when another water droplet from his hair falls onto your cheek that you finally snap out of it. You move a step back.

“You look a little hot strawberry is anything the matter?” He asks you, a teasing lilt on his voice.

It’s way too early for this, you cannot be dealing with this right now, not when your mind has gone on a memory flashback to last night and he was right here in front you, so very naked.

Still, you feign your ever composed self.

“I’m just fine” you say through gritted teeth.

“I need to shower and your kind of standing in my way” you tell him.

He chuckles, a deep chuckle, gosh how are you this horny in the morning? Stop it y/n you think.

“I don't think you really mind though do you strawberry, you seem to have a very different secretive side” he says, cocking his head to the side.

You blush, shit had he heard you?

“I have no idea what you're talking about Jungkook” you say to him “I need to shower though”.

You move to get away from his hearted stare but just before you enter the washroom, a hand grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back.

Jungkook looks at you, a deep and confusing stare.

“Be careful, it’s quite wet in there” he says and then his tongue pokes into the side of his cheek. Then suddenly, he lets you go and walks off to his side of the room, your left in shock at his words and quickly scurry to get into the bedroom before more heated tension breaks through.

You shake your head of all thoughts and quickly go into the shower, what you don’t realise is that you accidently drop something, the note with the raven-haired boy who you had left in the bedroom.

Its later on during this day that Jungkook approaches you.

'Hey strawberry’ he says to you.

You raise your eyebrows at him, what’s with his sudden kindness.

‘hey’ you reply voice dipped in surprised.

‘Oh, shut up, I just came to talk to you’.

You look at him.

‘I didn’t say anything but okay…. talk then’ you gesture your hands between your two bodies.

He lets out an exasperated gasp.

‘The note – did you find one?’ he asks. You still in the next sip of coffee that you were going to take. You feel yourself grow cold. How did he find out?

He looks at you.

‘So, you did’.

‘I didn’t say that’ you say tone slightly higher than normal – you were a terrible liar.

He laughs at you

‘Hmm is that so?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about Jungkook’.

He looks at you, more serious this time.

“Listen y/n there's no point playing dumb, I found your stupid note anyway”.

You watch mortified as he pulls out the note that you had thought was in your pocket. Well shit then.

“I- I have never seen that before in my life Jungkook” you can't let him know; he would ruin everything - you convince yourself.

He looks at you, he’s getting annoyed that you're lying to him. He pokes his tongue against his cheek again.

“I suggest you stop lying”.

You scoff.

“Why would I ever need to lie to you your nobody to me Jungkook”.

Something akin to hurt flashes across his face for a few seconds before he slams his hands on the table.

“I don’t think you know what you're even getting into strawberry”.

You gather your belongings getting up, you need to get away from him.

“And I don't think you know what the fuck you're talking about Jungkook”.

You walk off leaving him there, but he follows after you,

“Listen I found one too, you don't need to be miss hero or anything”.

You carry on walking, not bothering to give him an answer, he would want to tell the teachers and everyone, they would cancel the trip and then how would you finish gathering your evidence? No, he was insane.

“I don’t know what you're talking about”.

‘you think your so fucking slick, don’t you? Asking around and acting unsuspicious but your wrong I could sense your stupid plan from a mile away’ he says to you, pulling you on your arm effectively stopping you so you can't walk away from him anymore. You struggle out of his hold.

‘and so, what? So, what if you know? What the hell are you going to do Jungkook? Tell on me? Are you going to threaten to tell the teachers because you know what? I’ve been thinking about it and I think they would much rather take my word for yours and all this work I’ve been doing for you – I could easily go right now and show the teachers and say that you forced me to do it!! ’

He looks at you angrily, looks like he is going to swear or curse you out but then his face relaxes.

‘you say that baby, but the truth is I have money and you don’t if I want to manipulate something I can because I have the means and power to do so, my dad's made himself something while yours totted away in the fucking garbage can’.

You feel the anger come over you and he smirks at you.

‘real fucking classy Jeon, yeah insult my parents – like it's their fault they were born into a world where people are born with silver spoons on their mouth, and at least my parents love me Jungkook’

His eyes flash with hurt

‘how do you now my parents don't love me you little bitch?’

You laugh an empty laugh at his face.

‘just look at you – you’re the very definition of boohoo my parents don't love me so I'm going to kick up a mess, so they notice me for once’.

He groans in frustration at your words then.

Somehow amidst your confrontation with Jungkook you had managed to reach your room, why are you here? Why did your feet have to leave you here?

You walk into the room and as soon as he gets in, Jungkook grabs you by the wrist and pins you against the door, your books and pencils fly across the room and while your mortified - he doesn't even bat an eyelid.

Your breathing is both heavy as you look each other in the eyes, waiting for the other to say something.

You struggle against his hold, uselessly, curse him for doing his workout routine every morning.

“You found the fucking note y/n when you went missing in the woods that day, the note that’s in Morse code, the note that you spent a week trying to decode, don't act fucking dumb” he grits out.

You still try and keep up your act,

“I have no clue in the world what you're talking Jeon, I think you're going fucking insane” you seethe out

He growls, yes, he growls.

“Your seriously fucking pissing me off now, I know you did, I know you found it”.

“Fuck off, Jungkook does it look like I care if I am fucking pissing you off”.

He looks into your eyes again and whispers something like “fucking priss” before he is connecting your lips in a kiss, a kiss that is full of ego, passion and heat. You can feel in searing through your body so fiery, setting your nerves alight.

He is relentless in his pace. His mouth against yours and God indeed Jungkook is good kisser. Before you knees grow weak you move your hands to tangle in his hair and you pull at the end causing him groan against his lips, when he does you swipe your tongue into his mouth getting a taste. You pull harder, and he groans again. It was a sound that you know you would like to hear again.

His hands move from the door and one tangles in your hair while the other presses harshly on your waist. You gasp at the pleasure and at this he takes over, he fights your own tongue for dominance and once he wins, he is rough, he wants all his saliva in your mouth, wants his taste on you, wants you to feel him in every way.

When he knows that your just as enthralled by his kisses he pulls back to taunt you - whispering the words against you bruised lips.

“You act like such a fucking little priss don't you? Act like your better than me? Lying to me? Fuck you drive me insane”.

He attacks your neck now, leaving open mouthed kisses along your ear and neck. He nibbles lightly at a few areas and when he gets to just the right place - where your breath hitches and you move your thighs together he bites down harshly without warning and you try you best to suppress your moans. Not wanting to give him any satisfaction.

“I am better than you” you say to him breathlessly, “I don’t just act like it, I am”.

He bites harder at that and you wince - Jungkook is painting you skin wine and purple and your letting him and it feels so goddamn good. He pulls you back by the hair to look at him,

“You don't look much better than me when you are bending at my will, when you're looking so fucked out and I’ve done is fucking kiss you”.

Your answer is swallowed by a moan that you let out as he takes you breasts into his big hands, and squeezes hard, you pull him up from your neck and kiss him again, his lips, your lips bruising and fighting against one another.

He trails his hand down further and dances around the hem of your pants for a while, and you place your own over his, just as your about to lead him further down a knock is heard at your door.

You both freeze

“y/n?” A voice calls out.

You calm yourself before answering, still a little shaky.

“Yes?”

“Our guest speaker has arrived, I just thought you might like to ask him a few questions before he gives his talk”.

Jungkook swears under his breath, raking a hand through his hair.

“You fucking nerd”.

He pulls you back by your pony tail and the back of your head lands on his shoulder, he tilts you slightly, so he has better access to kiss and leave more marks against your skin.

“Ah- I thank you, I’ll come in an ah- while” you say, and you hear the footsteps walk off, Jungkook spins you around and he goes to kiss you again, but you pull away.

“No, just, stop I have to go and talk”.

He looks at you “you fucking nerd” he kisses you once more, like he can't get enough of your mouth.

You pull away again.

uh what in the fuck just happened you think.

This was not meant to happen.

“Look Jungkook, I did, that is my note and I- I’ll, we can talk just not now, okay? I-I have to go. This is important"

He doesn't say anything, just watches as you fix your appearance in the mirror, an appearance he had ruined, and he smirks a little in triumph. He watches as you gather your books that had been thrown onto the floor and he watches as your ass is on display for him and God, he wishes he could grab a handful, but he doesn’t. He just watches.

You walk out the room, without so much as looking at him again and he feels oddly rejected.

He knows that you had felt good, he had heard you groan against his mouth, grind against his clothed member but he hadn't ever been walked out on before. He's not sure what exactly he is feeling. Its not a good feeling - that he was walked out on and for some old ass lecturer too.

He watches the door close, and he sits and waits for you to finish being a nerd. But truthfully it is a little hot to him that you’re so independent, you do things for yourself, your confidence and your wit, it makes you fun, you piss him off, but your company is nicer than the ones that he is used to.

He sighs what the fuck is he getting himself into.

You take a breath as you exit the room,

What in the fuck just happened? you think.

Well, when you promised Jungkook that you would talk to him you hadn't been in your right mind. Why did you agree to that like fuck? You have no idea what to even say. How do you even start that conversation like...?

"Hey, was just wondering if you would like to you know? Go on a hunt for a serial killer with me?"

Gosh this was so stupid and the kiss, gosh your face heats up as you remember the way he had kissed you - oh so sweet and so naughty!

Gosh you were in bad, as an adult you decide to deal with the problem logically, you'll just ignore him. That will work, Jungkook had a small attention span anyway. You're sure he would forget. You really hope he does.

#jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkookxreader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook imagine #jungkook series #bts x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts imagines #bts angst #bts fluff #e2l

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lovclyboncs · 3 years

Text

Everything I Wanted (Todoroki x Reader) Soulmate Au

inspired by Everything I Wanted by Billie Eilish.

TW! Mentions of contemplated suicide and insecure thought that could be triggering.

soulmate Au! Where your soulmate tattoo appears on your wrist after you touch your soulmate for the first time.

F!reader x Todoroki

F!reader x Bakugou (brotp)

Plot: the reader is Todoroki’s soulmate, but he doesn’t want to let some mystical ink on his wrist dictate who he should love, so he rejects reader as his soulmate. This story is about how reader first reacted to the rejection and how slowly reader lets herself heal, but what the universe wants it will get.

Part two out now!

This is my very first post on here! I hope you guys enjoy!

I had a dream I got everything I wanted Not what you’d think And if I’m bein’ honest It might’ve been a nightmare To anyone who might care

Every night you’d wake up drenched in sweat, panting as you tried to calm your breathing, tears staining your rosy cheeks. Every night you had the same nightmare, you wished it was just your mind overthinking, but sadly it wasn’t. Even in your dreams you’d replay that memory in your head over and over again.

“ I’m sorry (y/l/n), but even if your name is tattooed on my wrist and even if fate says we are meant to be together, I can’t return your feelings. My heart belongs to another. I’m truly sorry if I’m not what you expected as a soulmate.” He told you with nothing but sincerity in his voice. The sad and hurtful truth.

“I-It’s okay. I understand Todoroki-san. Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine” You said holding in the need to cry, and the need to let the crawling feeling in your throat free, to scream and yell how once again this world was nothing but cruel.

He gave a slight nod of his head before walking away from you. His other half as written by the universe and written on your left wrist.

You looked down at the floor clenching your fists and look up once again to see him standing with the rest of the A-1 class who was chatting as they waited for class to resume. A lone tear raced down your face.

“I’ll be fine” You whispered to yourself.

‘I have to be’ you thought.

As a young girl all you ever did was fantasize about your soulmate. You thought it would be a dream come true for you when you would finally get to meet them. You would get your happily ever after like in those princess tales you’d love to read before going to bed. You thought you’d have the perfect white picket fence life to look forward to.

As a young foolish girl you thought life would be easy.

you didn’t know your parents were going to sacrifice their lives to save others.

you didn't know that you weren’t quirkless and that your parents had been using ‘vitamins’ to suppress your quirk because of how dangerous it was when your emotions went haywire.

you didn't know that it wouldn’t get better contrary to what your therapist would tell you.

you didn’t know that you weren’t going to make as many friends as you had hoped you would.

and what hurt the most was that you didn’t know your soulmate wasn’t going to be your knight in shining armor like you had hoped.

Thought I could fly (fly) So I stepped off the Golden, mm Nobody cried (cried, cried, cried, cried) Nobody even noticed I saw them standing right there Kinda thought they might care (might care, might care)

It had been a month since Todoroki rejected you as his soulmate. You thought you could've gotten over it but as always it seemed like the universe wanted to punish you for just existing. You didn’t participate in class anymore, You made sure to cover your soulmate tattoo so that no one would accidentally look at it, you didn’t tare your gaze from the floor, you thought that it wouldn't hurt as much if you didn't have to look at him, but then the rumors started spreading and then the rumors weren't so much of a rumor.

“ Todoroki and Momo made it official!”

“ I knew they were soulmates, I mean just look at how perfect they look together.”

“ Did you see the picture Momo posted of their soulmate tattoos? I'm so jealous!”

It was all too much for you, so you ran and you ran until you found yourself on the rooftop of U.A. and you let the tears you were holding in fall.

You let the monster crawling at your throat free, letting yourself scream, letting yourself voice the hurt you had been bottling up.

why weren't you good enough for anyone?

not good enough for your parents to live for, they would rather die for others than to live for you.

not good enough for your classmates, they barley talked to you or invited you to places like they did with each other.

not good enough for your soulmate to want you. hell he’d rather cover you up than let people know fate had chosen you for him, were you so disgusting that you weren't even worth mentioning as the soulmate he rejected?

“stop” you whispered to your thoughts.

“ please just stop” your voice sounded hoarse.

“I just wanted everything to stop. To end” you said louder to no one, because no one was there, because no one cared.

you slowly walked towards the edge of the roof and looked down at the ground.

your eyes were void of anything, they looked empty.

shakily you put one foot out into the nothingness, into the only thing that could stop you from letting the pain overwhelm you. you closed your eyes ready to fly.

‘This world is so cruel and yet so beautiful’ you thought before letting your eyes snap open and gasping.

your eyes regained a light and tears began to swell once again, you let yourself fall backwards away from the edge of the building.

Yes the world was cruel and life wasn't fair, but it was also beautiful. there was still so much you wanted to experience, still so much that would be worthwhile.

after sitting on the floor for what felt like hours, you heard the distance sound of the bell signaling the end of lunch. you slowly picked yourself of the ground and cleaned your tears with the sleeve of your uniform jacket.

you made your way back to class 1-A. you were the last one to walk in, and some of your classmates glanced up at you, but they didn’t say anything about your puffy red eyes, they didn’t ask why you weren’t at lunch, they didn’t ask how your day was going so far, they didn’t ask if you were okay.

because you were not okay.

you once again felt a heaviness in your chest.

you thought they would care at least a bit, they were heroes in training after all, yet it seemed like they hadn’t even noticed.

they hadn’t even noticed your absence and maybe they didn’t mind it in the slightest.

I had a dream I got everything I wanted But when I wake up, I see You with me

Maybe you were too wrapped up in your own mind or maybe you finally lost it, but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out how you ended up like this. Eating spicy noodles quietly with your class’ very own lord explosion murder sitting across from you.

If you were to ask Bakugou why he demanded you have lunch with him, he’d say it was because your dumbass face was the only one he could stand enough to willingly share his homemade noodles with, and if you were to ask him why he was sharing noodles in the first place, he would tell you to shut the hell up and just eat without questioning him.

What Bakugou would never admit is that when he was roaming the school grounds during lunch two weeks ago he saw you standing at the very edge. He stood frozen in place, not sure of what he could do, but before he could will himself to move he saw how you feel backwards and out of his sight. He knew why he froze because he remembered a comment he made to deku before they entered U.A. He obviously didn’t mean it, but seeing you so willingly to just dive of a building made something in him feel guilt for making such an insensitive comment even if it was to deku.

He really didn’t know you well. He knew that he had never actually seen your quirk in action though probably more than half of the class could relate to that since you never really used it. He knew pretty much that he didn’t know you at all and that unsettled him. Sure he wasn’t the most sociable guy or easiest to approach, but he at least knew a couple of things about each of his classmates friends.

So he decided to pay more attention to you, he noticed how you really didn’t talk to any of your classmates and how they wouldn’t try to include you in their conversations. He noticed you always walked with your head down not really looking at where you were going. He noticed the bags under your eyes making themselves more prominent. He noticed how sometimes when you would space out in class you’d be staring at the back of the class where the half and half bastard would sit. He became aware of your being but he still didn’t know how to approach you.

The opportunity came after an awkward encounter.

Everyone (or so you thought) had gone out to who knows where and like always you hadn’t been invited. You decided to train for a little while. You had been slowly progressing with being able to control your quirk, but after your conversation with Todoroki you were back at square one. Your emotions were a train wreck making it hard to control your quirk. Becoming frustrated with yourself you decided to call it a day but since you were sweaty you went to take a shower first. You forgot to take your clothes with you, and since you were by yourself in the dorms you didn’t think it would be that big of a deal if you ran to your room. Midway there you bumped into a wall that wasn’t there this morning. You looked up and there was Bakugou looking down at you.

‘Oh shit I’m going to die’ you thought but then you saw Bakugou frown as he looked directly at your uncovered wrist.

‘Shouto Todoroki’ Bakugou narrowed his eyes. He finally understood why you had been acting more closed off than usual, and maybe if you had looked a little harder you wouldve seen the understanding in them.

“Sor-” you began to say but he cut you off

“get dressed and meet me in the kitchen” he said before walking away.

After that day things changed for you. Who knew eating noodles in silence with an angry blonde could set you on your path to healing?

Every time you saw them holding hands you didn't have enough time to let yourself question what you could have done for that to be you.

“hey dumbass hurry up or I’ll kill you” the red eye blonde would yell at you once he noticed you lagging behind. Making you forget about the black ink on your wrist and making you worry about how bakugou was going to react to you getting a C- on the test he spent a whole afternoon helping you study for.

And you say, “As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you Don’t wanna lie here, but you can learn to If I could change the way that you see yourself You wouldn’t wonder why you’re here, they don’t deserve you”

It was close to the end of the school year and if you were to say that much hadn’t changed you’d be lying.

thanks to practing your quirk with bakugou and him suggesting meditation to help you stay calm you were finally able to control your quirk enough to use it without fear around others.

Through him you also became friends with the rest of the bakusquad and they helped you warm up to the others.

all the second guessing and the comparing yourself to others didn’t cross your mind often anymore.

unbeknownst to you every time you peeled off the layers of insecuirty that held you back from expressing yourself bakugou would smile glad that you,just like him, could get passed the pain left by an unrequited soulmate bond.

also unbeknownst to you, as you began getting along with the rest of the class and opening up, he couldn’t help but be captivated by some of your quirks. How you would help the likes of denki study even when you weren’t better off yourself, how you were the only one who entertained Midoriya’s rambling and even added comentary.

He began to get to know you and he could see how the universe could’ve blessed him with a soulmate such as yourself. you were the complete opposite of what he was used to, the todoroki home wasn’t exactly the most affectionate.

He was seeing you bloom right before his eyes and all he could feel was guilt as he diverted his eyes to look at his left wrist.

‘Momo Yaoyorozu’

He softly caressed his thumb over the name and even with his soft touch the fake dark ink smuged.

He thought he had what he wanted.

He thought the universe had been wrong.

He thought it was for the best.

but as he saw you bickering with bakugou he found himself wondering what he could’ve done for that to be him, for you to be open with him like that.

he knew he was wrong but he was too far in to fix it.

If I knew it all then would I do it again? Would I do it again?

lastly Todoroki knew that even if you found it in yourself to forgive him, he still wouldn’t deserve you.

Thank you so much for reading this far if you did! I don’t know why I couldn’t get this out of my head and so here it is. Also I threw in an AOT reference to cope with the pain.

#mha x reader #todoroki shōto #todoroki x reader #todoroki angst #mha angst #anime angst #bakugou x reader #brotp #fanfic #oneshot #angst oneshot #billie eilish #songfic #soulmate #themes: unrequited #unreciprocated love #healing #fanart #strwbrrybratff

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2807

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Poseidon

– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves

Aelin had moved past hurt.

Now, she was just pissed.

It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.

Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.

“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”

Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”

Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.

“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”

“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”

“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”

“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.

Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.

“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”

Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”

Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”

Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.

Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”

“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.

She was still on glass #1.

Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.

“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”

“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.

“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”

“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.

Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”

“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.

“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”

Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.

“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”

Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”

“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”

Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.

Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”

Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”

Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”

She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”

Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”

“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.

Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.

All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.

A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.

“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”

“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”

Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.

After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”

“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”

Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”

Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.

“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”

“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”

Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”

Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”

“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”

“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.

Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”

Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.

It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.

And when he did, he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”

“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.

Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.

“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”

Rowan continued to drink.

“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”

Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”

Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”

Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.

Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”

Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”

Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.

He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.

Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.

“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.

Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”

He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.

Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.

“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”

Rowan knew he was right.

Of course, he was right.

And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.

He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.

“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.

Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.

Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.

Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.

She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.

When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.

The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.

She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.

When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.

And found who had been watching her during her workout.

Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.

Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.

“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”

She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.

“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”

She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”

Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”

She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”

Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.

She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.

Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.

Even if she wanted there to be.

#snacmc ttf #tempting the fates #rowaelin ttf #snacmc collab #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius

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eternalsimp · 3 years

Text

Cursed Fears (pt 3)

Genre: Hurt/comfort, smut

Word Count: 5117

Warnings: NSFW 18+, aged up Megumi, swearing, use of female pronouns and anatomy, very jealous Megumi, rough sex, praise kink, overstimulation, slight orgasm denial, some degradation, spanking if you squint, oral sex (m. receiving), marking. Minors DNI.

Author Note: This is the final (?) part of a JJK mini-series I did but it can be read as a stand-alone. Parts 1 & 2 are up on my blog (IDK how to make links)

You were pulled from sleep with the sound of your phone vibrating on the bedside table next to you. You crack your eyes open to take in your surroundings for a minute and try to ignore the insistent buzzing of your phone. Mid Morning sunlight is streaming through the open window, casting a blanket of warmth in the otherwise cold room. Megumi's divine dog has moved off the bed and is laying under the window where it can’t be disturbed by the light. Megumi has his face buried in your neck, arms still wrapped tightly around your torso, and you can feel his warm breath fan out against your skin.

Your phone starts to ring again and you carefully move to grab it, trying not to disturb your sleeping boyfriend. You turn it to see Nobara’s name and picture displayed across your screen and debate sending her to voicemail. You decide against it, knowing she would just call you again.

“Hello?” You stifle a yawn and hear Megumi grumble incoherently behind you.

“Y/n! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning! Are you avoiding us?” You pull the phone away from your ear to try and escape her scolding. You turn your attention to the clock on the bedside table showing that it was a little after 10 am.

“I was sleeping, I’m not avoiding you, psycho. And who is us?”

“Oh yeah, Itadori and I are hanging out. We are actually pretty close to where you and Fushiguro live which is why I was calling. Wait, didn’t you have class this morning?”

“I’m kinda playing hooky, Megumi, and I didn’t go to bed until pretty late and I wanted to sleep in.” Out of annoyance, Megumi grabs your phone out of your hand and rolls onto his back before pressing it to his own ear.

“What do you want Kugisaki?” His voice is still heavy with sleep, and you would normally swoon from how deep it was, but you were too distracted by him interrupting your conversation. You roll over to lay your head on his chest and nudge the phone away from his face to click the ‘speaker’ button so you can hear what Nobara is saying.

“... and you’ve been hogging all of my best friends' time lately so what I’m thinking is you and Itadori can hang out so her and I can have a girls day.” You can hear Yuji in the background correcting that you were both of their friends and he wants to hang out too.

“Well seeing as how we are both still in bed, it’s probably gonna be a while,” Megumi says flatly, probably hoping she’ll drop it and be content with just Yuji’s company.

“Ooohh, am I interrupting something fun?” You can hear her words dripping in sarcasm, wanting to fluster you and Megumi. Your boyfriend however decides he has other plans.

He cocks an eyebrow down at you, “yeah actually you are,” and pinches your thigh to elicit a sharp gasp from you. You bolt into a sitting position and feel your face heat up with embarrassment. Nobara is sputtering on the other side of the line and you swat his hand away from you as he sits up too and tries to pull you back against him.

“Megumi Fushiguro! Give me that!” You snatch your phone back and shove him off the bed, his body landing with a hard thud on the floor. “Sorry, he woke up in a bratty mood apparently.”

“Fushiguro? Being playful? I never thought I’d see the day!” Nobara snickered over the phone. You leaned over the side of the bed to see Megumi pouting at you and you stick your tongue out at him childishly.

“It’s a blessing and a curse. Anyways, give me like an hour and we can all meet up for lunch or something.”

“Yay! Let me know when you leave and we can find somewhere to meet in the middle!”

You hang up the phone and Megumi lunges off the floor and tackles you onto the bed. He rolls the two of you so he is laying on top of you and you are effectively pinned under his body weight. He lays his head on your chest and wraps his arms around your waist as you struggle to push him off of you. “I just wanna spend like ten more minutes in bed with my beautiful girlfriend.” He turns his face up to give you a pleading look and you sigh in defeat.

He grins triumphantly and rests his head back on your chest. You run your fingers through his dark hair to smooth it out as much as you can where it had been ruffled from sleep. After you feel satisfied with the strands you can reach you start tracing over the contours of his face, appreciating how angelic the light from the window makes him look.

Feeling your movements still, he cracks an eye open to see you staring at him. He narrows his eyes accusingly at you, “why are you staring? Weirdo.”

“Cause you’re pretty,” you hum contently and kiss his forehead. He buries his face into your shoulder and groans.

“You make me sound like such a girl.”

“Boys can be pretty,” you pull his face between your hands and kiss his face. “You’ve got pretty eyes, and pretty lashes, and a pretty mouth, even if there's a lot of sass coming out of it.” He rolls his eyes, moves to lay higher up on your body, and stuffs his face into the pillow next to your head. You laugh at the way the tips of his ears turn pink with embarrassment and decide to let up on your teasing.

After a lot of pouting and complaining from your boyfriend, you finally pull him out of bed and convince him to get dressed to go to lunch. You tuck a loose burgundy sweater into a pair of black high-waisted leggings, smirking at the way you catch Megumi staring at how the pants hug your curves. He layers a dark blue windbreaker over a grey hoodie and a pair of jeans. Both of you opted for sneakers since you figured you’d probably be walking around a lot.

He pulls you into a hug and makes his last attempt at talking you into staying home and watching a movie instead. You notice he gags slightly at the smell of your perfume before quickly trying to cover it with a cough. You make a mental note to buy a new one while out with Nobara before denying his request to ditch your friends. He rolls his eyes, gives you a firm peck on the lips, and leads you out the door of your home.

The ramen house Nobara and Yuji decided they wanted to try is in a large shopping district walking distance from your apartment, so you and Megumi decided to enjoy the nice weather after the storm. You barely register the sound of Yuji's voice before you are being spun around by your overexcited friend. “Be careful before you break her!” You can't help but laugh at how Nobara scolds him before he plants you firmly back on the ground but still holds you in a bruising hug.

“Yuji, I just talked to you last night!”

“Okay, but I still haven’t seen you in what feels like forever cause you’re always at school.” Yuji pushes his lip out in a pout before finally releasing you so you can hug Nobara too.

“Well, I’m sorry I have to go to stupid, normal person university cause I’m not cool enough to be a cursed energy user.” You reach out and pinch Yuji's arm causing him to flinch back away from you and pout harder.

“Trust me, I’d kill to be at a normal school.” Nobara pipes in and lightly pushes your arm jokingly. You laugh her off and turn to notice Megumi is tense and lost in thought. You tug at his sleeve to regain his attention and motion to continue your walk. He laces your fingers together and pulls you closer to him.

On your way to the ramen house, you and Nobara stop in a few shops to look around and you pick up a few things here and there. The boys mostly stayed outside in the sun and talked amongst themselves. After ducking inside one of the stores you quietly warn Nobara not to tease the boys too much today. “Nightmares again?”

“Yeah, it’s the first one in a few months but it was a bad one, just keep that between us though.”

“Of course, it’s good that he’s getting better.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to help as much as I can, but I don’t know if it's actually effective. I know they’ll never fully go away but it just hurts to see him in pain like that, you know?” Nobara nods and links your arms together as you move through the little shop.

“It’ll keep getting better, don’t let the bad nights get you down.” You smile at your friend before paying for your items and heading back outside.

When you and Nobara rejoin the boys outside, you find them complaining about being hungry and decide to actually go get your lunch. You’re all seated at a booth, you and Nobara are sitting next to each other and since Yuji insisted that he wanted to sit next to the window, he is across from you, leaving Megumi to sit across from Nobara. You smile at him apologetically but he shrugs it off and texts you from under the table to say that it doesn’t bother him.

It felt good to laugh and catch up with your friends until an old classmate of theirs showed up halfway through your meal. Megumi's eyes widen at the figure that slides into the booth next to Nobara. “Zenin? What are you doing here?” You eye her suspiciously but say nothing and continue eating your food.

“I told you, call me Mai. You make me sound the same as Maki,” she pouted at your boyfriend. You roll your eyes and Nobara huffs next to you. Mai turns to glare and notices Yuji trying to engage you in a conversation again. “Well, this is cute. Did the half-cursed monster and the normie finally get together?” You whip your head to her to ask what she's talking about, but she's speaking again before you can open your mouth.

“I mean it would make sense, you did like her first. Why did you never say anything?”

The table goes deadly quiet. Megumi is staring at Mai in horror, Yuji is shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Mai smirks at the tension she created and you can’t help but look back and forth between the two boys.

“Did you feel bad and let poor little Fushiguro have her?” She shifts her attention back to the man in front of her and continues. “Must be scary knowing he could probably take her back with a snap of his fingers, not that she’d last very long. I’d give it a week until Sukuna kills her.” Megumi lowers his eyes to the table but stays silent.

“Food for thought kids, I gotta go.” She winks at you and Nobara before making her exit. You try to reach for Megumi's hand across the table but he pulls away from you quickly.

“Megumi, she’s wrong,” you tell him gently.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” He’s shaking his head and trying to brush you off. “I’m okay, it’s nothing.”

The air around the table is awkward for the rest of lunch, but you try to continue your small talk. Things take a turn for the worse when the waitress brings two separate checks. One for Nobara and Megumi, one for you and Yuji. Nobara flags her down to tell her that a mistake has been made with the check and can you split it differently. She apologizes and says she mistook your group for two couples. You all pay for your food, Megumi quickly snatching your individual check and paying for your lunch, before you start sliding out of the table.

When you get to the edge of the booth, Megumi is yanking you to your feet by your elbow. “I don’t feel good, I wanna go home.” He says shortly before turning to walk out of the restaurant. Yuji is avoiding eye contact and hanging his head in either shame or embarrassment. You can’t quite tell. You mumble a quick apology to Yuji and Nobara before following your boyfriend outside. He grabs your wrist tightly to lead you back to your apartment.

You’d seen him get mildly jealous, but never quite this bad. The walk was fast-paced, you were having a hard time keeping up with his tall frame. You were certain that the grip he had on your wrist was going to leave bruises. You tried to catch his attention a few times and pull your hand out of his. “‘Gumi please, you're hurting me.”

That sentence finally catches his attention, but only a little. He lets go of your arm and mutters a quiet “sorry” before shoving his hands into his pockets. The rest of your walk is doused in an uncomfortable silence before you finally get back to your apartment. Megumi pulls the keys to your front door out of his pocket before stepping aside to let you in first, you can almost feel his anger rolling off of him in waves. You slip off your shoes and place your purse and shopping bag on a countertop before you are roughly grabbed and pinned against the door.

Megumi squeezes your jaw firmly, his mouth crashing against yours brutally. You tug at his wrist with one hand, he loosens his grip, but never removes his hand from your face. His other hand is fixed on your waist as he continues using his body weight to keep you pressed against the door. Your brain feels fuzzy from his sudden attack and you struggle to get your head to catch up with your body. Out of pure instinct you tilt your face up towards his to deepen the kiss and just as you think you’ve gained some ground he’s pulling away.

A weak sound of protest comes from your throat and you open your eyes to see his own morphed into a dark midnight blue. You feel him tighten his grip on your face as he leans in just enough that you can feel his breath on your lips. Your focus is pulled away by his other hand slowly snaking its way from your waist into the waistband of your leggings. You feel your breath catch at the feeling of his fingertips making their way further down to your core. You hear him chuckle darkly.

“Look at you, I hadn’t even touched you and you’re already soaking. Could Yuji make you this wet from just kissing you?” You could barely hold yourself up, let alone form a word, all you could do was shake your head. Normally he would find that endearing, but he obviously wasn’t in the mood for silence tonight. He nipped your bottom lip almost painfully. “I need words pretty girl.”

“No, just you.” You were tugging at the front of his shirt, desperately trying to ground yourself.

He smirks dangerously and bit down on your bottom lip again, earning a sharp gasp from you. “I didn’t think so.”

You try to close the gap between your lips but he pulls back and shoves your face to the side so he has access to your throat. He latches on to the weak spot behind your ear and sucks like his life depends on it. He proceeds to cover your neck with dark bruising marks before pushing your sweater down your shoulder so he can continue to mark his territory.

“‘Gumi,” you try to reach him but he’s in his own headspace. You barely have time to brace yourself as he suddenly breaks himself away from you body and yanks you up over his shoulder. You land roughly, clinging to the back of his shirt to keep from falling, and it feels like the air has been knocked from your lungs.

He doesn't give you time to catch your breath before he’s striding into your bedroom and throwing you down onto the bed. Your body bounces at the impact and he’s climbing over you before your body can settle. He grabs your hands and pins them above your head and stares you straight in the eyes.

All that can be heard in the apartment was the whipping wind outside the window and the deep breaths emitting from both of your parted lips. You take advantage of the moment to fully take in his face. Your normally gentle and loving boyfriend was nowhere to be found. In his place was a man riddled with jealousy and intent on taking his frustration out on you.

The moment is broken when he drops one of his hands from your wrists to pull up at your sweater. You do your best in this position to arch your back up so he can pull it off. He momentarily lets go of your hands so he can fling your sweater onto the floor before his hands resume their post.

You close your eyes at the feeling of his lips kissing their way down your chest. He takes one of your nipples between his teeth and bites down lightly. Your body rises from the bed in an attempt to bring him closer to you. One of his hands comes down to shove your waist back down into the mattress and once he’s done assaulting one of your nipples he moves to the other. He leaves bruising marks everywhere his lips go and you feel as they make their way further down your waist. Everything feels heightened with your eyes squeezed closed.

“Megumi please,” you breathe out. He leans back up so his face is level with yours.

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” You feel the hand on your waist move down to your thigh. You can barely make an audible sound as he rubs his thumb roughly into the skin of your inner thigh. All you can manage is a weak whine and he scoffs at your feeble attempt at speaking. “Are you suddenly mute, use your fucking words.”

He smacks your thigh sharply trying to get you to focus on him and get out of your head. You let out a small whimper and he rubs his hand soothingly over your warm skin. “You can do it love, tell me what you want.”

How quickly he can switch between how sweet and how mean his words are has your head spinning. You blink a few times before your head clears. “I want to taste you.”

“That's my girl.” He practically purrs.

He releases the hand that was holding yours in place and moves backward to let you climb off the bed. The second you stand up he is tangling his fingers into your hair and shoving you to your knees in front of him. You don’t hesitate to reach up and quickly pull his jeans and boxers down to his knees. You run your hands up his thighs to grab his half-hard dick, giving it a few lazy strokes before taking the tip in your mouth. His hand tightens in your hair and he groans out in pleasure.

You slowly move your head and start taking him deeper into your mouth. Earning a string of small moans from him. “Fuck baby, you’re being such a good girl for me.”

The tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat causing you to gag and push at his thighs. He pulls you off of him to let you take a breath, admiring all the pretty bruises he left across your skin. It takes all his self-control to not cum right then as he works himself back into your mouth. “Just relax baby, I know you can take it.”

The sweet praise that was so familiar to your bedroom activities sends a rush of arousal through you and has you squeezing your thighs together to create the tiniest bit of friction. He continues pushing into your mouth until your nose is flush with his pelvis. Your whine of protest is muffled by him as he holds you against him, not letting you move your head back. Your eyes water at the sensation as you struggle to swallow around him.

“Awe, does my baby keep forgetting to breathe through her nose?” He pouts mockingly at you. You look up at him with tears rimming your eyes and he smirks again. “You just look so pretty like this princess.”

He moves the hand that was gripping your hair to run his thumb against your temple gently before drawing his hips back. You force yourself to relax as much as you can as he starts thrusting into your mouth. You ball your fists tightly, digging your nails into your palms to distract from the achy feeling in your jaw. You flush in embarrassment and the obscene amount of spit collecting at the corner of your lips as he keeps fucking into you like his own personal toy.

Tears are streaming down your face and he cums with a loud groan. You swallow and stick your tongue out to show him. He hummed contently and you leaned back against the bed. You lay your head back and try to catch your breath. Megumi strips the rest of his clothes off and tugs you to stand up.

“Did you think we were done, princess?” He crashes his mouth against yours again and nudges you back onto the bed. “I’m not done until my name is the only thing you can say for weeks.”

Megumi reaches down to thrust two fingers into you, causing you to cry out. His mouth latches onto your skin and starts leaving dark marks everywhere he can reach again. His hand is pumping into you at a brutal pace and you’re trying your best to bite back your moans. He looks up at your face and scoffs.

“No holding back those beautiful sounds baby.” He reaches his free hand up to squeeze the sides of your throat. “I want you to use that pretty mouth to tell me just how good I’m fucking you,” he growls. You nod frantically and he nips at your jaw. Your moans and whines grow increasingly louder and Megumi starts rutting his cock against your thigh for friction.

“Gumi, I’m close,”

“Hold it,” he growls. You look up at him in panic and he grinds the heel of his hand into your clit. “I want to see if you can be good and follow a simple order. If you don’t behave, I will leave you here with nothing.”

You press your face into his shoulder and let out a small whimper. Just when you thought his challenge was hard enough, he slips a third finger into you and purposely crooks them to hit your sweet spot over and over.

“Please baby, I’m sorry. I’ll be good, please just let me cum.” Tears threaten to spill again and he laughs darkly, but says nothing else as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you. He turned his face so his breath could tickle your ear.

“I think my princess just needed a reminder of who she fucking belongs to, isn’t that right?” You nodded frantically against his shoulder. “If you really wanted to get fucked like a whore this bad then you could have just asked me nicely princess.”

Both of your hands were gripping his biceps so hard you thought that you might leave bruises on him. Your climax was so close you could almost taste it, but Megumi's threat loomed in the back of your mind. Not wanting to anger him more you keep behaving and pushing back your orgasm to the point where it’s almost painful. Seeing you struggle to follow his orders underneath him ignited something feral inside your boyfriend, as if he wasn’t dancing on the edge of it already.

“Okay princess, you can cum now.” Your climax ripped through you violently, and you couldn’t help the broken cries it pulled from your mouth.

Before you could ride out your high he is flipping you onto your stomach and yanking your hips up. You scramble to push yourself up onto your hands before he is shoving your face into the blankets.

“No baby, I want you bent over nice and pretty for me. This way I can fuck you exactly how I like.” He pushes himself all the way into you with one fluid motion and sets a hard and fast pace. You are gasping out for him and reaching back to squeeze his wrist. Overstimulation is wracking through your body and you can see black dotting your vision.

You whimper as you feel your next orgasm approaching quickly, and Megumi can sense it too. “Are you gonna be a good girl and cum again?” You nodded your head, and he slapped your thigh, eliciting a cry from you. “I asked you a question, and I want you to use your words like a big girl.”

“I’m close, please let me come again baby.” He smiles and angles his hips to start hitting your sweet spot till you’re seeing stars. Your second climax is less intense than the first, but it still has you feeling completely exhausted. Your head is hazy and you can feel your legs beginning to tremble underneath you. If not for Megumi's firm grip on your hips, you’re sure they would have given out by now.

He reaches around and pulls you up so one hand is wrapped around your throat and the other is wrapped around your waist. His hips never falter their rough pace and your back is pressed to his chest. You can hear and feel him panting in your ear with every one of his movements. Your head is too hazy to focus on anything except him and you let your head loll back onto his shoulder. He turns his head to look at you and smirks. “Look at that, my poor baby got fucked out too hard. I know you have one more in you princess.”

You whine at the promise of another orgasm while he once again latches his mouth on to your neck and shoulders. He lets the fingers on your waist trail down to where you are connected and circles your clit several times. You jolt at the stimulation and weakly try to push his hand away. He smirks and decides to take his taunting a step further. “I wonder what sweet Yuji would think if he saw you like this? Fucked dumb on my cock.”

You barely process his words, but you don’t have the energy to respond. He nips at your jaw as he pushes you closer to the edge. You can tell he’s close with how his pace begins to stutter. With a particularly hard thrust and a pinch of your clit you are coming undone for the final time that night. He cums right after you and gently lays you back down on the bed.

You’re sniffling from overstimulation and pushing his hips away from yours until he pulls out of you completely. You’re finally able to find your words as you curl further into the blankets. “Please baby no more, it hurts.”

You can’t see the guilt that washes over his face as he leans forward to kiss your temple lovingly. “It’s okay pretty girl, you did so well for me.”

He leaves you in bed to move to the bathroom and you think you can vaguely hear water running. After a few minutes he comes back and scoops you into his arms and carries you to the bathroom. He slowly eases you into the warm water of the bathtub before he's running back out.

You lean your head against the wall and let tears continue to stream down your face. A small portion of it is from the dull throb coming from your lower body, but mostly it’s from sadness clawing at your heart. You hate pushing him on his emotions and prying at things he doesn’t want to talk about, however something seemed to really push him over the edge tonight.

He quietly comes back into the bathroom and sets the book you're currently reading on the bench next to the tub, along with a hot tea in one of your favorite mugs. He had pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and was turning to leave again. You reach out and gently wrap your fingers around his wrist. “I know that I’ve asked you to share so much in the last 24 hours, but can we please talk about what happened tonight?”

A look of confusion crosses his face and you sink further into the water. “I just want us to be okay, and I can’t shake the feeling that you’re mad at me.” Your voice begins to falter and he curses at himself. He pulls his sweatpants off and slides into the water behind you and rubs your shoulders.

“I’m not mad at you baby, Mai just hit a deep seated insecurity, and the thing with the waitress just kinda pushed me past my limit. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that, I’m sorry.”

You turn to lean your head on his shoulder and let your fingertips trace the water droplets that gathered on his chest. “Why would you listen to anything Mai says? She loves to piss you and Maki off.”

He tucks his chin on top of your head and hugs your shoulders. “Because she wasn’t wrong about Yuji. He liked you first, I always felt like a charity case. And every time you guys hang out, it nags at me at how much better of a boyfriend he would be for you.”

You roll your eyes and flick his nose. “I knew that he liked me, he isn’t exactly the king of subtlety. But you need to remember, Yuji is your best friend, he’d never hurt you like that.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You shift to cup his face in your hands. “If I liked Yuji, I wouldn’t have dated you. You’re the one I wanted to be with, not him. I love you.”

He leans his face into your hand and lets you pull him in for a kiss. “I love you too princess.”

#fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #jjk smut #megumi fic #megumi smut #megumi x y/n #anime #jujutsu kaisen smut #fanfic

354 notes · View notes

chaeiimimi · 3 years

Note

HEY BUBS! I HOPE YOU’RE DOING GREAT, PART TWO WAS SUCH A BOMB AS WELL ALDJAKDJA I’M LOWKEY GETTING BABY FEVER ALREADY AT THIS POINT LMAO JK AKSJAKS IF YOU HAVE TIME, I’D LIKE TO REQUEST OSAMU / SUNA / OIKAWA / AKAASHI ALDHAKS ANY OF THEM WOULD BE FINE UWU 😫

HEY BUBS I’M SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY BFIWBFIWBF MY LIFE’S BEEN PRETTY CRAPPY LATELY, I’M GLAD YOU LIKED THE SECOD PART AAAAA STAY HAPPY AND HEALTHY BUBS ILY <3

Haikyuu Boys and a Single Mom Pt. 3

Featuring: Suna, Bokuto, Kenma

Suna Rintaro

despite being a professional volleyball player, Suna was still a university student, he evenly splits up his days to go to volleyball practice and university

he was always dreading to go to university, but he knew he needed it, and you, being his seating beside you in three classes, made university bearable

you had this amazing aura, always so gentle, and kind, you had a soft smile plastered on your face almost like a motherly smile, your voice was always calm and soft, you were just so breath-taking to look at

although you two never talked that much, Suna already knew a lot of little details about you, he once drove pass you walking to the kindergarten just one street away from your university, he knew that you carry a container of fruits in your bag, you always left as soon as classes for the day was over, and that was only a few among a hundred of little things about you

Suna admired you from afar, as much as he likes you so much it physically hurts him, love just wasn't his priority, his priority was volleyball and his career

or at least he thought

life surely has a great sense of humor because somehow you guys ended up being partners for a thesis paper

"I look forward to working with you Suna" you smiled

"likewise" he says with his usual blank face

Suna didn't want to admit it, but he was excited

"so, where do we work on this?" he asks looking at the notes he took for that class

"well, we can work on it at my place" you say casually while also looking at your notes

"are you sure it's okay?" he asks again to make sure, this girl, the person he's been crushing on for his two years in university is now inviting him to her place

"yeah, i can't really spend a lot of time outside, my son hates it"

and just like that Suna was having a mini heart attack, you were married? you have a son? what-

“hey, you alright?” you asked worriedly

Suna quickly composed himself

“uhh y-yeah, won’t your husband get angry?” he asks

“oh don’t worry I raise Kiro by myself” you smiled

Suna looked at you strangely, unable to keep up

you chuckled at his dazed look “I’m a single mother”

Suna almost breathed out a sigh of relief, thankfully he was able to stop himself or else you would get the wrong idea

“yeah, yeah sure, let’s work on it at your place” he snapped out of it, did he sound too happy to hear that you were single? yes, but we ain’t gonna talk about that

what was your ex thinking? he was pretty sure your kid was cute and you were so breath-taking to look at, what a stupid guy

“what does your son likes?”

“hm?” you asked him to make sure you heard him right

“what does your son likes?”

later in the evening, Suna showed up at your place with chocolate chip ice cream and the most expensive sushi he could find

you worked on your project for a good two hours, finalizing the outline of the thesis, while Kiro sat on Suna’s lap, your son immediately liked him, maybe because of the ice cream and sushi , but Kiro was very fond of him

“Kiro, baby, get off of Suna’s lap please he might get tired” you said to your son while you were keeping the things you used

“I don’t mind, he’s surprisingly light” Suna says as he bounces Kiro on his lap

“alright, if you say so, I’m going to prepare snacks” you made your way to the kitchen and left the two in the living room

“mister rin-rin” Kiro whispers while tugging on Suna’s shirt

“hm?” he answers looking at the kid, he was right, Kiro was extraordinarily adorable, it felt like he was looking at a smaller boy version of you and it was making her heart go feral, making him break his rules and try his best to get the both of you

“i want you to be my daddy” he whispers while fiddling with his fingers shyly

please this man is about to combust

he pats the boy’s head “sure bud” he said with a smile

“then can I call you dad?” he asks , eyes sparkling

“well it’s better to start early right? sure you can bud” he says, a full-blown grin plastered on his usually stoic face

Bokuto Koutaro

the flashing and clicking of cameras occupied the whole room where the MSBY Jackals were holding their post-game press conference, they won the game by the way and Bokuto was in high spirits answering questions thrown at him by the reporters

it was your turn to ask a question to the players and you stood up “Bokuto-san, your fans are always wondering why you’re always in high spirits, what is your secret?”

Bokuto has never seen you before, were you a knew reporter? because damn he would’ve noticed you immediately if you were on their past press conferences, you looked like a celebrity to be quite honest

“I’m playing volleyball, there’s no room for me to be unhappy” he simply says

it was you first day at your new job, quite frankly, you’re glad you quitted your old one, they forced you to stay behind the camera and write scripts for anchors when you finished a bachelor degree on broadcasting

“Can’t blame him, I’m also happy when I do my job” you mumble to yourself as you remembered Bokuto’s answer to your question

“mama!” you looked at your son who was in the arms of your cousin Kuroo

“hey thanks for doing this for me couz” you say as they stopped right in front of you

“mama! have you seen the game?! they were so awesome! Uncle Tetsu promised me to go meet MSBY!” your son happily jolts in his Uncle’s arm

you looked at him with a motherly smile, happy that you’re son enjoyed the game

“you coming with us?” Kuroo asked

“you two go ahead I’ll just rest for a bit” you were tired with keeping up with the game and asking questions

the two nodded “alright, just show this to the guard and they’ll let you enter” Kuroo says, handing you a pass

you mutter a small thank you as you watch them walk away

let’s just say Gen, your son, was liked by every single member of the team, I mean, who could ever dislike such an adorable kid?

“MSBY cool! Shoyo pwaaa! Boto bam!” he says while jumping up and down, while Kuroo watched his nephew smiling

Bokuto was particularly very fond of him, was it because the kid was unbelievably adorable? or was it because the kid reminded him of a certain reporter? He’d like to think both

“Gen-kun who’s yer fav’rite player eh?” Atsumu asks the kid

the kid looked at eight full-grown man looking at him expectantly, his eyes stopped on the black-and-white haired spiker and made grabby hands towards him “BOUTO! BOUTO!”

the members were disappointed but not surprised at all, kids tend to go to Bokuto or Hinata since they have the friendliest faces

“HEY! HEY! HEEEY!” Bokuto did not hesitate and lifted the boy up in the air, as they both giggle

“Tetsu?” your voice interrupted the commotion inside the room

Kuroo went to the door and opened it for you and the first thing you saw was your son giggling with the person stuck in your head for about twenty minutes now

“Mama!” your son screamed as soon as he saw you and asked to be put down to run towards you giving you a hug on your leg you looked down at him and patted his head gently

Kuroo cleared his throat “this is Y/N L/N my cousin, the mother of adorable the adorable Gen, she is single and ready to mingle, 2 in 1 you get an adorable son and a lovely wife, contact me for more details, the price can be discussed”

you deadpanned at your cousin, why tf was he selling you like an auction, you shook your head

you were hyper aware of the intensity of the owl-eyed spiker, making you blush

while Bokuto was over here thinking, damn he hit the jackpot an adorable son and an absolutely gorgeous wife? you bet he’s in and he’s gonna do everything he can to win you and make you and your son happy

“I’m sorry about him, please excuse me, my son and I needs to leave” you said politely and bowed as you take your son away

unbeknownst to you, Bokuto was in the middle of business with your cousin

“hey, how much for the details?” Bokuto whispers to his bestfriend as if they were in the middle of an illegal transaction

Kuroo looked at his friend with eyebrows raised

“I’ll pay any amount” Bokuto was very serious, which made the former Nekoma captain burts out laughing

“well, since you’re my good friend, a few drinks will do” Kuroo after his hyena laugh session

“Hey! hey! hey! thanks Kubroo!” Bokuto says in his usual cheery voice

later that night, you wondered why you were having dinner with your son, your cousin, and the former captain of Fukurodani, how he managed to get you flowers in such a short amount of time and this late at night was beyond your knowledge. But you weren’t complaining though, how could you when he looked adorable with a flushed face asking for your number after driving you and your son home.

Kenma Kozume

Kenma wasn’t fond of kids, he didn’t disliked them, he just preferred hanging out with adults who were less hyper, proceeds to hangout with Bokuto, Hinata and Kuroo

but he was a gamer and it is inevitable that some of his fans were kids, he didn’t mind it though he is thankful to each and everyone of his fans

being the twenty-eight year old youtuber/CEO that he is, he barely have time to go out and it happened very rarely, and today happened to be one of those rare occasions as he got out to get some ice cream in a very hot summer day

but he was in a for surprise, at an empty alley, he heard a ruckus

“give it back! please give it back!”

it was never in Kenma’s personality to pry, but something was pushing him to go check out what was going on

he went inside to the dark alley and saw four boys, about eight years old, one was in the middle, his clothes all crumpled and dirty, his bag empty, his things sprawled out, scattered in front of him

“you want this thing? it’s not even the latest model, you think kodzu-”

Kenma cleared his throat, already able to register what was happening

“ken” the bully continued

“you know kids, I don’t really like bullies” Kenma starts as he walks towards the little boy, picking up his scattered things one by one and putting it in his bag

“leave, before I report you to your school” Kenma says stoically which made one of the boys drop the game console in his hand as the three of them scramble to get out of the dark alley

the little boy picked up the game console and tried to open it, but to no avail, it was broken

Kenma went closer as he handed him his bag

“are you okay?” he asked as he crouch down to the boy’s level, it was obvious that he was not okay, his face had little scratches and his clothes were all dirty and slightly damped

but the little boy meekly nodded and looked down on his game console, which Kenma noticed

“I can get you a new one” he says in attempt to cheer up the little boy, he didn’t know what was pushing him to do so, but his heart broke at the sight of him broke his heart

“mister Kodzuken, can you please get this fixed for me instead?” for the first time, the boy looked at him with sad eyes

how could he say no to that face? he took the game console and looked at the boy

“is there a reason why you want me to fix it?” he asks

“my mom worked hard to get me that on my birthday, she didn’t buy her favorite coffee, her favorite bread, she patched up her shoes instead of buying a new one, she even lied to me that she wasn’t hungry when we ate out, I don’t wanna make her sad” the boy sadly said and wore his bag

Kenma was in awe, no wonder this boy was so polite and respectful

“alright, how but I’ll call your mother now, she is needed in this situation” Kenma says as he takes out his phone

the boy slowly dictates his mom’s phone number, and when he was done, Kenma was speechless, the number was already registered as his secretary’s number

Kenma shakily presses the call button

“sir?” your voice from the other line, never seize to make his heart skip a beat

“Y/n do you happen to have a son?” his voice was still calm

“yes, how did you know sir? i have a son he’s name is Eiji, he’s eight” you happily told him

“well, I kinda caught some kids bullying him, I think that you’re needed here” he says calmly

“oh no, my baby, i’ll be there ASAP sir, please do send the location”

“I’ll send the location to my driver, he’ll pick you up” Kenma says and hangs up as he send a quick messege and the location to his driver

Kenma was supposed to ask you out tomorrow, that was the reason why he didn’t go to the office today, he was going to surprise you at his place because he didn’t want you, the girl he liked to the horrible people of the internet

you were too pure, too kind, you always made sure to get him something to eat despite his resistance, made sure that he doesn’t overwork himself and even going to the extent where you do some of his workloads, of course he trusted you enough to do so and you’ve been working with him for four years now

but you had a child? did you have a husband? but you’re resume said that you were single? is it a boyfriend?

“you know mister Kodzuken, mama always talks about you when I ask her about her day, I think she’s got a little crush on you” Eiji smiled softly at him

which almost made the former setter melt into a puddle, the boy was adorable, and even if his original plan was to just date you, he was more than happy to have Eiji, having a mini you around made it all even better, he wasn’t fond of kids but the little boy infront of him was an exception

“I think, I can make that happen” he smiles softly

the day after you appeared looking distressed, talked to your son’s bullies and their parents at the school’s principal office with Kenma and Eiji seating beside you, you were now inside your boss’ house, he was asking you to be his girlfriend, your son happily jumping up and down beside him

how could you say no, when four years ago, you were only dreaming of this moment?

#kenma x reader #bokuto x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #suna x reader #kenma kozume #Bokuto Koutarou #suna rintaro #haikyuu scenarios

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becomewings · 3 years

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BTS Universe Timeline

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TIMELINE GUIDE

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers from all BU media

Revisions and additions will be made as necessary, so please visit the original post for the most up-to-date version (update log is included at bottom of post)

All names are provided as fully as known

Bracketed dates are inferred or calculated from references in the text

While the timeline is presented here as objectively as possible, I acknowledge that there is a level of subjectivity in choosing which information is significant enough for inclusion and in certain connections drawn between entries

Please inform me of any suspected errors; I will investigate and correct them

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

School Years: Together & Apart

- March Year 19 through 10 April Year 22 -

2 March Year 19 Notes 1 (SJ)

Ten days after returning from the U.S., SeokJin and his father visit the principal’s office at his new school. SeokJin learns that he will start one grade lower due to the different education systems. SeokJin’s father grips his shoulder while the principal explains that school is a “dangerous place” that needs to be “tightly controlled.” He asks: “You know you have to keep me informed, right? You’ll be a good student, right?” SeokJin squeezes out a “yes” and his father lets go. Both ChangJun and the principal laugh. SeokJin looks down at their shining shoes, wondering from where the light is coming.

Note: SeokJin’s 25 June Year 19 entry in Notes 1 specifies that his father attended the same high school. JiMin’s 23 July Year 22 entry in Notes 2 reveals that, according to a comment he finds on an online news article, ChangJun and the principal were in school at the same time and fought with each other “as if it would only end when one of them dropped dead,” but they appeared to get along later due to politics.

3 March Year 19 BTS Universe Story: The Boy on the Threshold, ep.1

On the first day of school at Songju Jeil High School, the Dean of Students berates the six latecomers lined up outside: SeokJin, NamJoon, HoSeok, JiMin, TaeHyung, and JungKook. YoonGi arrives even later. The Dean assigns them one month of community service as punishment. When he notices SeokJin, he clears his throat and says he is letting them off because it’s the first day: they must all assemble after classes to clean the annex, a classroom turned into a storage room. This room becomes their meeting place and hideout even after their punishment is finished.

Note: Their punishment for being late is referenced in JiMin’s 12 March Year 19 entry in Notes 1, when he escapes to the old classroom again and finds the others already there. He observes that it feels as though they’ve been “hanging out together forever.” The punishment scene is also similar to a moment in the BTS Begins Middle Scene VCR. Although it includes a few extra students and cannot be confirmed as BU content, it does mirror the canonical detail of YoonGi arriving last.

28 May Year 19 Notes: Answer

In the classroom hideout, JungKook asks everyone what their dreams are because he has to write a paper about future hopes. SeokJin wants to become a good person, and YoonGi says it’s okay to have no dream. TaeHyung poses on a chair and says he’s going to be a superhero. HoSeok scolds him and adds that he wants to find his mom and live happily. JiMin asks him if he is unhappy now, and HoSeok pulls an exaggeratedly worried expression. “Is that how it works?” JiMin is flustered when HoSeok asks what his dream is and remembers that when he was in preschool he wanted to be president, but didn’t know what he wanted after that. Everyone looks at NamJoon, who shrugs and confesses that while he wants to say something nice, he doesn’t have a dream either and just wishes that his part-time job pays more. JungKook looks down at his assignment, divided into sections for “student” and “parent,” and wonders what he hopes to become. He can’t think of anything to write.

12 June Year 19 — The Sea Notes 1

YoonGi’s entry:

All seven boys cut school and decide to go to the sea. They have little money between them, so they must walk to the train station. As they leave, YoonGi almost bumps into JiMin and realizes that he is standing frozen with a trembling face. JiMin stares at a sign that reads “2.1km to Grass Flower Arboretum.” YoonGi flatly tells him that it’s too hot to go to the arboretum. He has an “instinctive feeling” that they should avoid it. He observes that JiMin walks away like a little kid, head bent and shoulders hunched.

JungKook’s entry:

The boys arrive at the beach. They hang around under a torn parasol until HoSeok holds up a discovery on his phone: a large rock that is supposed to grant your dream if you stand atop it and shout your dream out to the sea. TaeHyung encourages them to go. While they grumble in the heat on the long trek, JungKook reflects on how he had recently asked the others what their dreams were. (See 28 May Year 19.) None of them really have a dream to pursue.

YoonGi tells JungKook to stop biting his nails or else they’ll become like his. Then he asks JungKook what his dream is. Having never thought about it, JungKook doesn’t know. He hesitates and then asks what a dream is. HoSeok rattles off a few definitions from his phone. YoonGi questions, “How can something that you want to achieve most in your life and something that is unlikely to come true both be called a dream? … Don’t ever try to have a dream.” JungKook asks why. At his glance, YoonGi stops biting his nails and puts his hands in his pockets. “Because it’s tough having one.” JungKook is curious about why YoonGi bites his nails but doesn’t ask. He recalls that it has been a habit since his childhood to hurt himself. He remembers cutting his finger on a knife badly enough that his mom took him to the hospital, but she didn’t take care of him after they went home. His wound healed slowly because he kept pressing it; the pain helped him feel awake. Even now, he sometimes feels hollow.

TaeHyung asks how much longer they have to walk. HoSeok is puzzled, saying they should be close. They gaze around the empty, pebbled beach. JiMin sighs and reads aloud from an article on his phone. A resort will be built on this beach, and the construction company blew up the rock. They notice the cordoned off construction zone. They try to reassure each other to remain positive, but they all feel the disappointment of walking all that way for nothing. JungKook notices YoonGi biting his nails again and tries to stop him, but he is interrupted by a loud drilling noise. JungKook looks past him at the sea and all that remains of the dream-granting rock, the pebbles under their feet. “Is the world tough for you, too?” he asks, but YoonGi can’t hear him. JungKook screams again. “Do you want to give up on this world, too?” HoSeok and TaeHyung laugh at their mimed conversation. They all look out to the sea and shout their dreams. The drilling is so loud that they can’t hear each other. JungKook cannot even hear his own dream. When the noise stops, they cut off abruptly and laugh. SeokJin suggests that they take a photo. He sets the timer and runs to join their row, the sea behind them. They walk back to the train station. JungKook asks if he can keep the photo. SeokJin writes “June 12” on the back and gives it to him, telling him that his dream will come true. JungKook asks if SeokJin knows what he shouted to the sea, and SeokJin merely taps his shoulder and strides ahead.

BTS Universe Story : The Boy on the Threshold, ep.3

JungKook’s memory of the beach trip follows a similar structure to the scene in Notes 1, plus a notable addition. After they fail to find the dream-granting boulder, JungKook climbs up on the pier railing. He thinks: “I’ve always liked walking on the edge of walls or on top of lines. Focusing on centering my gravity means that I don’t really think of anything else, and the boundary—not quite a part of either place—always felt like where I should be.” Someone grabs his arm while he precariously balances. YoonGi tells him not to do that, and JungKook assures him that he won’t fall.

“YoonGi would often grab my arm when I walked on railings. The others would look after me, too, after seeing him do that. I liked their helping hands. It felt like they were telling me that I should go to them. That this wasn’t my place. Maybe their hands were why I walked on the railings.”

25 June Year 19 Notes 1 (SJ)

Alone in the classroom hideout, SeokJin finds a plant by the window. He takes pictures with his phone but doesn’t think they capture what the human eye sees. He notices that “HoSeok’s plant” is scribbled on the floor beneath the pot and then realizes that the window sills, walls, and ceiling are covered with graffiti and drawings, messages left behind by the students who once passed through that room. He wonders if there were past teachers who used violence and endless tests or students like him who ratted out their friends to the principal. Since his father also attended that high school, SeokJin looks for his name on the walls and finds it with a phrase written underneath: “Everything started from here.”

Note: TaeHyung, JiMin, NamJoon, and YoonGi discover several other familiar names near Kim ChangJun (SeokJin’s father) on the classroom wall in TaeHyung’s 23 July Year 22 entry from 7’s album Notes and the extended version in Notes 2.

30 August Year 19 Notes: Her

JiMin plays in HoSeok’s shadow while he is on the phone, reflecting on how HoSeok has accompanied him on the two-hour walk home since the beginning of the school semester. JiMin eventually realized that HoSeok didn’t live in the same direction but never questioned him, simply hoping that their time walking together would stretch the day out a little longer. HoSeok finishes on the phone and chases after him while the cicadas sing and their ice creams melt. Suddenly, JiMin is afraid, wondering how many of these days are left.

20 March Year 20 Notes 1 (TH)

TaeHyung sneaks up on NamJoon in the hallway by their classroom hideout. He stops when he hears SeokJin’s voice inside, apparently informing the principal about how TaeHyung and YoonGi had ditched school and got in a fight over the past few days. SeokJin throws open the door, phone in hand, and looks flustered to see NamJoon standing there. TaeHyung hides in a corner and is shocked to hear NamJoon assure him, “It’s OK. There must’ve been a good reason.” HoSeok and JiMin find TaeHyung in the hallway, and HoSeok pulls him into the classroom. NamJoon beams at TaeHyung as though nothing strange has happened. Believing that NamJoon “must have his reasons” because he is more intelligent and mature, TaeHyung decides not to tell anyone about the conversation he overheard.

15 May Year 20 Notes 1 (NJ)

NamJoon visits the classroom hideout on his last day of school. Two weeks prior, his family decided that they needed to move due to complications with his father’s health and their overdue rent. NamJoon tries to write a message on a piece of paper. He scribbles “I must survive” before the pencil lead snaps. He crumples the paper and writes in the dust on the window instead.

“No farewell message would be enough to let the others know how I felt. At the same time, no farewell message was needed to make myself understood. ‘See you again.’ It was a wish, rather than a promise.”

Note: “I must survive” is a recurring message tied to NamJoon in the BU MVs. See also 17 December Year 21.

7 June Year 20 Notes: Persona

TaeHyung’s two month old puppy Dubu slips out of the leash and disappears while he is distracted on his phone. TaeHyung runs around the neighborhood looking for him, first angry at the puppy and then blaming himself. When Dubu returns on his own, TaeHyung is filled with the unfamiliar feeling that he is someone who can be relied on.

11 June Year 20 BTS Universe Story: The Boy on the Threshold, ep.5 Everyone’s Place

In the classroom hideout, JungKook listens to YoonGi playing the piano. The sound of the music makes him feel as if YoonGi understands how he feels and is trying to console him. The Dean of Students forces the door open, demanding why they are there. He berates and slaps JungKook, knocking him to the floor. YoonGi steps between them and shoves the teacher’s shoulder. The dean warns him that he had better be prepared for the consequences of putting his hands on a teacher and then leaves. Despite his throbbing cheek, JungKook smiles because it is the first time someone has protected him, and the feeling of getting closer to YoonGi makes him giddy. For the next two weeks, YoonGi does not come to school.

25 June Year 20 Notes 1

JungKook’s entry:

JungKook tries to play the piano in the classroom hideout, unable to make it sound like YoonGi did. He reflects on the rumor that YoonGi was expelled after the events of 11 June and wonders if YoonGi would still be here playing the piano if JungKook had not been there that day when the teacher appeared.

YoonGi’s entry:

Breathing hard, YoonGi arrives at his bedroom, removes a half-burned piano key from an envelope in his desk drawer, and throws it into the trash can. He remembers a day four years ago when he returned to their burned down home and found a skeleton of the piano where his mother’s room used to stand. He noticed several piano keys on the ground and took one of them, wondering what note it was and how many times her fingers touched it. In the present, YoonGi thinks how unbearable living under his father’s rule is and recalls what happened that day: he is officially expelled from school. He picks up the piano key again and hurls it out the window.

“I couldn’t hear the piano key hit the ground. Now I’d never know what note it made. It’d never make a sound again. I’d never play the piano again.”

17 July Year 20 Notes 1 (SJ)

At the end of the last school day before summer vacation, SeokJin tries to leave quickly but is hailed by HoSeok and JiMin. No one knows that he was pressured by the principal and revealed their hideout, which led to JungKook and YoonGi being discovered (11 June) and the latter’s expulsion (25 June). HoSeok wishes SeokJin a good vacation and to keep in touch, but he can’t reply.

“My first day at this school crossed my mind as I passed through the school gate. We were all late and got punished. But we were together, so we could laugh together. I had ruined all those memories we shared.”

Note: Variations of the sentiment “we can laugh when we’re together” recur throughout BU.

15 September Year 20 Notes 1 (HS)

In the hospital emergency room, HoSeok wants to explain how JiMin had a seizure at the bus stop to his mother, Sim SeonMi. When the doctors wheel JiMin’s bed out, HoSeok begins to follow until SeonMi thanks him and touches his shoulder. He feels like she has drawn a line between them that he cannot cross. He falls to the floor, and when he looks up, JiMin’s bed is gone.

Note: The name of JiMin’s mother is specified in his BTS Universe Story arc, Stopped Time. JiMin’s 11 May Year 22 entry in Notes 1 reflects that he blacked out at the bus stop after seeing the window of the Grass Flower Arboretum shuttle bus open. His 12 August Year 22 entry in Notes 2 reveals the real cause of JiMin’s seizure at the bus stop: he sees the boy that he left behind at the arboretum warehouse on 6 April Year 11. Though the boy’s empty eyes no longer speak to JiMin, this chance encounter awakens his memories of that day.

28 September Year 20 Notes: Her and Smeraldo Books Twitter

JiMin, heavily medicated, has lost track of how long he has been back in the hospital. But he considers this a special day because he lies to the doctor for the first time about not remembering anything.

Note: He is lying about not remembering what triggered his seizure at the bus stop on 15 September and/or what happened at the Grass Flower Arboretum when he was a kid (see Notes 2 comments above). This lie is also referenced in his 11 May Year 22 entry in Notes 1.

30 September Year 20 Notes 1 (JK)

A teacher hits JungKook with an attendance book when he refuses to admit that he still visits the classroom hideout, reminding him of when YoonGi was beaten. Later, JungKook stands outside the room and imagines that the others are waiting for him on the other side. He opens the door to only find HoSeok, clearing out what remains of their belongings. HoSeok walks him out, and JungKook realizes that those days are gone and will never come again.

25 February Year 21 Notes: Her (HS)

HoSeok watches himself dance in the mirror. He has danced since he was around twelve and discovered an ecstasy that came from inside himself. Outside of the mirror, HoSeok is a person who collapses everywhere and takes medicine he doesn’t need, who smiles even when he hates it and isn’t happy. But when he dances, he truly becomes himself, casting away all that weighs him down and feeling that he can become happy.

2 May Year 21 Notes: Persona (JK)

Biking along the Yangjicheon riverbank, JungKook thinks about how his friends left him one by one and that no one at home or in the world smiles at him anymore. He stops in the shadows under a bridge. Nobody comes to this kind of ruined place, and maybe that is the reason no one comes to him either. He feels most comfortable alone in the complete darkness where no one will look for him and wants the moment to never end.

9 August Year 21 Notes: Persona (SJ)

SeokJin walks along a Los Angeles beach and photographs the ocean. It has been a year since he fled Songju and moved to his mother’s family’s home, where he grew up as a child. He doesn’t photograph people anymore and didn’t bring any photos from high school with him, afraid to remember who he was at that time or to wonder about how his friends are doing and whether they still think of him.

17 December Year 21 Notes 1 (NJ)

This lengthy entry details events that transpired since the autumn of Year 20 when NamJoon’s family moved to the village, framed by moments on 17 December itself as NamJoon leaves on his own. His family chooses this village because it has a nearby hospital for his ailing father and employers who will hire someone without a high school diploma. NamJoon serves as a delivery boy for an eatery, competing for work with the other local boys. They grow a strange sense of solidarity, and he privately dubs one of them “TaeHyung,” even though the boy’s discontent, outward behavior is more akin to YoonGi’s. (Quotation marks added to the name here for clarity.) Competition slackens when snow falls in winter. NamJoon and “TaeHyung” are the only ones poor enough to risk the road up to the mountain town’s rest area when orders are phoned to the village below. On an afternoon forecast to have heavy snowfall, the restaurant owner dismisses “TaeHyung” due to his bruised face and gives the deliveries to NamJoon. The old delivery scooter fishtails on NamJoon’s third trip down the mountain, throwing him off. More anxious about the scratched scooter than his cut ankle and aching body, NamJoon finally gets it to restart and returns to the eatery. “TaeHyung,” who has been hanging around this whole time, approaches and asks for a favor. Before he can answer, NamJoon receives a call from his mother relaying that his father went outside alone and fell, requiring a trip to the hospital. NamJoon understands that his father was only trying to keep his dignity but is still frustrated because he can’t earn any more much-needed money this day. He hands “TaeHyung” the keys and leaves to take his father to the hospital.

The next day, NamJoon learns that “TaeHyung” was in a fatal accident during one of the deliveries up the mountain. The police officer blames him for being a poor driver and not wearing a helmet. NamJoon does not speak up that he has never seen the helmet the owner now has placed out on the counter. He visits the scene of the accident, thinking that the white outline on the road could be his if he was the one to make the next delivery—just as it could be his family mourning in the village instead of “TaeHyung’s” mother. On a later trip carrying his father home from the bus stop, NamJoon pretends not to hear his father’s frail voice over the noise of barking dogs. A week after that, NamJoon is making steady deliveries up the mountain. During what is ultimately his last delivery, he speaks with a stranger at the rest area, who cautions him to take care. “Do you know what’s really dangerous? Calcium chloride and wet leaves, not the snow itself,” the stranger blurts as NamJoon departs. NamJoon drives carefully back, not looking at the scene of the accident. This is not out of safety, as he tries to convince himself, but guilt: guilt for surviving, for his relief of being the one alive, for not defending “TaeHyung’s” driving skills. He also wonders if he is “a hypocrite pretending to have a guilty conscience.” Because he scattered wet leaves and sprinkled calcium chloride to prevent the road from icing over where he fell that afternoon, believing that he would be making the next delivery. If he did not do both those things, would “TaeHyung” be alive?

Mind and body numb, NamJoon makes it home from the delivery detached from the world around him. The barking dogs snap him out of the daze, and he remembers his father’s words that he pretended not to hear and dwelled on daily despite trying not to think about them: “Go, NamJoon. You must survive.” The next morning (17 December), NamJoon sneaks away to the bus stop. He is running away from his family’s misfortunes, from his own resignation to his fate, from poverty. The bus is scheduled to arrive in Songju in a few hours—the city he left with no notice and is returning to once more with the same. NamJoon wonders if his old friends still live there and how they are doing. On the frosted window, he writes with his finger: “I must survive.”

Note: The village boy’s real name is JongHun according to NamJoon’s 12 June Year 22 entry in Notes 2, which also reveals that he visited JongHun’s home to give his condolences before he left town.

1 February Year 22 Notes: 7 (SJ)

Summoned by his father without explanation, SeokJin flies back to Korea from Los Angeles. Although he has addresses in both LA and Songju, neither place feels like his home.

———————————————————

Update Log

Posted May 5, 2021

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231 notes · View notes

write-orflight · 3 years

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Light the Lamp: Chapter 1

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader (Friends to Lovers, College/Hockey AU

Rating: M

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: College kids being college kids, drinking, swearing, talk of sex(No smut yet but will be)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Love and Hockey were kind of the same, everyone’s just rushing to score. So why couldn’t you?

A.N Summary bad but I literally couldn’t focus on writing anything else until I finished at least the first chapter of this. let me know what you think, Message/reply/inbox to be tagged.

Chapter 1: 1st Quarter

Hockey wasn’t the sport Bucky wanted to play originally. He wanted to play baseball like his old man but when Steve decided he wanted to take ice skating lessons, he made Bucky tag along so he wouldn’t be the only boy in the class. Soon, they found themselves recruited in the junior rec hockey team and had been playing together ever since. It wasn’t a surprise that when recruitment came around that school’s were trying to pick up both of them. People knew better than to separate Cap from the Winter Soldier. Steve’s nickname was easy to figure out. He had a natural authoritative nature that made him the Captain of almost every team he played on. You never knew why they called Bucky the Winter Soldier until you played against him. Bucky was like an assassin on the ice. While everyone was focused on Steve in Center, Bucky was on left wing scoring the goal before you knew what hit you. So both of them getting recruited to play for the Avengers at Wilmington University wasn’t surprising.

Meeting you was.

At first, it was a sort of form of hazing. When they were starting their Freshman year so was the Coach’s daughter. He had asked senior members of the team to ‘keep an eye on her’ and make sure she didn’t get herself into any trouble. The seniors’ thinking that was lame, were more than happy to pass the task off to the two eager freshmen trying to make a name for themselves. So that’s how it started, The two boys walking you to classes and home from the library late at night, much to your demise.

“I should’ve known my dad was going to do something like this.” You complained when you saw the two boys waiting outside your dorm the first week of classes. “Thanks for coming. But you can tell my dad that I’m not going to be the freak being escorted by hockey jocks everyday.”

“No can do, Doll.” Bucky says. “We leave you, we’re doing drills the rest of practice.”

“Doll? What’re you? A 40s newscaster?” You say, with an annoyed expression walking passed the boys who just followed suit behind you. “Ugh, this is such bullshit. He literally begged me to go to Wilmington and promised I’d be able to have a ‘normal college experience’. What about this is fucking normal?”

“I know it’s less than ideal but hey, we can make the best out of this.” Steve smiles. “I’m Steve, by the way.” He says extending a hand.

You shake it. You couldn’t blame them for your dad not trusting you. “Y/N. You?” You asked the other boy next to you.

“Bucky.” He provides.

“Bucky?” You question.

“Well, it’s James but my friends call me Bucky.”

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” You ask.

“Might as well be, since we’ll be seeing each other a lot this semester.”

And that’s how your semi-unconventional friendship started. Pretty soon, even though your dad had eased up on the 24-hour watch, per your mom's request, you still found yourself walking and getting coffee with the two in the mornings. Even, found yourself waiting in the rinks watching practices so you could hang out afterwards and that became your life for the next two years. Now the three of you we’re entering your Junior year of college. Steve was right back in his title role of Captain, Bucky was now first string Left Wing and you were… still watching from the bleachers. You didn’t mind though, you grew to love the sport due to it being your dad’s profession. Hell, you were on skates before you could even walk. But you never found yourself on the women’s team, Hockey wasn’t something you really wanted to do. You still supported the girls team though, which is why you found yourself watching their practices too.

“Hey, Y/N!” Carol said, skating to the end of the rink where you were sitting next to her girlfriend, Maria. A position you often found yourself in, entertaining player’s girlfriends while they practiced. Maria was cool though, at least you knew about the sport.

“Hey, Marvel.” You called her by her nickname. Thing about Hockey is everyone was called by their nicknames.

“You going to the Sigma Pi party later?” She asks.

“Uh, no one told me about it.” You say, awkwardly.

“I’m telling you now.” Carol says like it's obvious. “You never go out anymore and I refuse to let you become a cat lady before you turn 25. Come over ours at 7, we’ll pregame and head over at 9. What do you say?”

“Fine, I’ll come.” You say.

“Great!” Carol says, pumping a fist before signalling her girlfriend to come closer to the rink. You look away as they kiss. Couples made you uneasy, especially hockey couples. You wanted that more than anything, for your guy to skate up to the gate just to sneak a kiss from you. Not that dating anyone from the team was even an option with you dad coaching. The team saw you as a little sister and if anyone was caught even looking at you in any way, their ass was grass by either your dad or Bucky, who’d become protective of you over the years.

“Marvel, stop flirting with your girlfriend and GET BACK ON THE ICE!” You heard your dad scream.

“Sorry, Couch!” She called. “Sorry, baby i’ve gotta jet. Y/N, don’t forget. 7 o’clock!” She says before skating off.

“I won’t!” You call after her.

---------------------------------------------------------

You can’t help but look at yourself in the mirror awkwardly at the tight Satin dress your roommate, Wanda practically forced you in. You were just going to wear a sweater and jeans, your regular wardrobe but Wanda insisted everyone had seen you in that and what they haven’t seen is you in a dress. Especially, with your new body, you had gotten over the summer working at a sports camp. Who knew running after kids would be such a great form of exercise?

Wanda also did your makeup, something you didn’t typically wear, giving you a natural glow eye, a layer of mascara, and sticky gloss that made your look ‘dewy’ as Wanda described it. You tried to keep your hair in the bun but Wanda insisted you keep your hair down. Saying it made you look hotter, you shrugged knowing you’d have to take her word for it.

The two of you made your way to Carol and Maria’s apartment. Carol swung the door open and looked at you in surprise. “Woah, Ice Baby, you clean up nice.”

“Don’t start, Marvel. And you know how I feel about being called that.” You hated the nickname but since you were the coach’s daughter and you stuck around the rink any chance you got, The seniors had started calling you Ice Baby your freshman year and the nickname unfortunately stuck long after they had gone.

“Right, sorry, I always forget.” Carol said moving out the way for the two of you to come in.

The four of you drink and play games until it’s time to head to the party. You’ve got a pretty strong buzz going as you enter the party and you regret the strappy heels Maria made you borrow before leaving. You’re sitting in the corner when someone comes to sit way too close to you. You look up to see Brock Rumlow, or Rum as the team liked to call him.

“I almost didn’t recognize you, Ice Baby. You look good.”

“My name is Y/N but thank you.” You say, annoyed.

He holds his hands up in mock surrender “I forgot you hate that nickname. Let me bring you a drink to make up for it. What you want.”

“Rum and coke, please.”

“Oh, so you like Rum?” He says, obvious double entendre hanging off his tongue.

“The drink? Yes.”

“You’ll like the man soon enough.” He winks, smirking at the flush that spreads across your cheeks.

The two of you spend the night like that. He brings you drinks and shamelessly flirts with you as you get drunker and drunker. The two of you even dance for a bit in the sea of grinding bodies. Soon you’re telling him a story and a hand drifts to your leg. You turn and he’s much closer to your face than you thought he was.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks. You nod but before you can even stand, Bucky is there towering over Brock.

“You can leave, Brock. But I’m taking Y/N home.” He says.

Brock rolls his eyes. “Forgot you had a Winter Soldier guard dog. No worries, dude. I’m leaving anyway.” He says, before turning to you. “You’ve got my number, call me if you wanna hang this week.” He says, nodding to Bucky before walking away.

“Ugh, Bucky. What was that for?” You whine, drunkenly.

“You’re drunk. I’m taking you home.” Bucky says. “Come on, stand up.”

You shakingly get up and Buck is there immediately under your arm, his arm around your waist helping you walk out.

The cold breeze hits you as soon as you step foot out the party and take the long trek home.

“I think I drank too much.” You point out.

“You think, kid?” Bucky says. “You’re lucky, I was here meeting Sharon otherwise you would’ve been shit out of luck.”

“Brock would’ve taken me home.”

“Brock’s a lowlife. Don’t worry about him, I’ve got you.”

You sigh. “Sorry for ruining your night with your girlfriend.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call her when I make sure you get home so if you could pick up the pace.”

“My feet hurt.” You complain.

“Yea, I bet. God, when did you start wearing heels, Doll?”

“I wanted to look good tonight.” You sigh.

“You always look good.”

“Fine, I wanted to look hot.” You provide. “For once, I wanted to be the one guys paid attention to at parties.”

“You can be yourself for that, Y/N.” Bucky says. “You’re a catch.”

“If I was, someone would’ve fucked me by now.” You drunkenly admit. That makes Bucky double-take. “I mean, think about it? 3 years into my college career, I turn 21 in a couple months and still it's where no man’s gone before down there.”

“Y/N, are you saying you’re--”

“A virgin? Yea, Bucky catch up.” You groan at the pain in your feet. Bucky looks and takes sympathy on you.

“Here take off your shoes.” He says, toeing his off as well and sliding them over to you.

“You’re just going to walk barefoot?” You ask, putting on the shoes, holding your heels in your hand.

“Better than you walking barefoot.” He shrugs.

“Anyway, I decided over the summer that maybe I was putting too much thought into it. I mean almost everyone loses their virginity in high school and it's never good, no one ever says their first time was good. I just thought maybe I should just, you know, get it over with.” You slur. “Which is what I was trying to do until you chased my date away. God, you always do that, Bucky.”

“I’m not fighting with you while you’re drunk.” Bucky says, trying to get you to drop the subject but you persist.

“Every time I try to talk to a guy, you butt in--”

“Maybe I wouldn’t butt in if you picked the right guys for you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the guys I pick! You’re just a cockblock.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yea what about Charles? He asked me on a date freshman year and took it back not even an hour later. I had to beg Steve to tell me why and it turned out that you threatened him if he even thought about going out with me.”

“Y/N, you had just turned 18 and X was a 24 year old senior! I didn’t trust how he was just waiting. So yea, I told him to fuck off. And Rum is an asshole who can’t get a girl to sleep with him unless they’re shitfaced. So yea, I told him to fuck off.” Bucky exclaims as the two of you make it up the stairs to your apartment. “Y/N, you’ll find someone right for you and that right person will make your first time special. I just want you to find someone who’ll make you happy.”

“And I just want you to remember for next time that if you want to tell a girl who she can and can’t fuck, you have Sharon for that. Not me.” You said, taking off the shoes as you arrived at your front door.

“Y/N, wait--” You hear him say but you don’t care, you slam the door in his face regardless.

Who did Bucky think he was? Sure, he was your best friend but so was Steve and he’s not nearly as protective as Bucky was. You honestly couldn’t tell who was worse at this point, your dad or Bucky. You loved both of them but they had the fatal flaw of forgetting you weren’t a kid. You were a woman, a woman with needs. And one particular need you needed to get rid of.

So you picked up your phone and called Brock. Bucky couldn’t be right about everything.

Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @riverofcrestmont @babymango-writes @astralsaf @gabi-socio @hereforalongtime512

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #captain america #tfatws

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 13

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 6.7k

Recommended song: "Cupid’s Chokehold/Breakfast in America” by Gym Class Heroes

"I have to go."

"Can't you stay five more minutes?"

"I wish."

"Come on, just a few more minutes to cuddle." Pierre flings back the fluffy duvet and holds out a hand. "Please?"

"I have an exam," you say with a sigh but bend to press a kiss to his upturned palm. "I can't skip."

Pierre groans and slings an arm over his eyes. "What am I supposed to do all day?"

"I don't have a sim but I have an old PlayStation you're more than welcome to use. I think I still have one or two games."

"That won't keep me busy."

"I'm sure you'll find something. Just stay out of trouble okay? I'd like to get my security deposit back when I finally move out of this hellhole."

"Okay," Pierre grumbles, sitting up to give you a quick kiss. "What time are you getting back?"

"Four. We can go out to dinner or something." You smooth a hand over his hair, smiling lightly. "Or we can go for a picnic and take a walk through Saint James Park."

"Sounds like a plan." He turns his head to kiss your palm. "I'll be counting down the minutes."

You roll your eyes but your smile contradicts the sass. "I'll be home before you know it. Love you, champion."

"I love you too, mon coeur."

He was endlessly grateful for how easily the two of you had fallen back into each other. When he had shown up at your doorstep he had expected there to be awkward pauses and minutes of tense silence, but there had been blissfully little of either. As the days bleed into each other, your relationship only gets steadier, closer and closer to what it used to be. Maybe it was because you had been the one to break the silence or maybe it was because he had thrown himself into his career into someone's bed- whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. He was simply grateful to be welcomed back into your life. He didn't plan on leaving any time soon.

Pierre allows himself a half hour of lounging in bed before forcing himself to get up and shower. Off weeks were hard; all he wanted to do was rest and recharge but he still had to follow his workout regimen and sleep schedule or he risked falling out of the habit, making it that much harder to get back in the groove come race week.

First order of business: clean the clutter you had shoved in closets and the spare room prior to his arrival the day before. Folding the three baskets of clean laundry took an hour, washing dishes another thirty minutes, and vacuuming the entire flat took twenty. Once the counters are spotless and there isn’t a stray sock to be found, he takes stock of your pantry and notes what staples you were running low on.

Two hours later he trudges back up the three flights of stairs to your apartment, arms laden with reusable bags packed to the gills with food. His legs burn and he's slightly winded from the excursion; at least that could count as his work out for the day.

He's just about to start slicing vegetables for dinner when his phone chimes with a text from his PR agent, Sylvie.

You're supposed to be in an interview now. Where are you?

"Oh shit." He scrambles for his laptop which of course was dead. He manages to plug it in at the dining room table and angle it so the background is mostly neutral, just a band poster framed behind him. He checks his hair before logging into the interview.

"There's the star," the interviewer says, far too chipper to be entirely genuine.

"Sorry, I was having connection issues." He queues up his signature sweetheart smile that gets him out of any squabbles. It works, the woman's irritation melting into a more easy expression.

"Let's just get right into it. Since we're low on time I'll jump right in, if you don't mind."

Pierre leans back. He had an inkling where this was headed. "By all means, please."

"We just saw news of your deal with Christian Horner- if you take seventh in this year's drivers championship, it looks like you're at Red Bull Racing next year. How does that feel after being publicly demoted mid-season in 2019?"

A smirk tugs at Pierre's lips. He had known this exact question was coming. He had debated how to answer it without starting waves and still remaining truthful. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his ability to be diplomatic when others may have let their egos get in the way.

"Obviously I'm grateful that Red Bull has recognized the hard work I've been putting in at Alpha Tauri," he starts. "I think I've been able to push the car as far as I can but I still have pace in me, personally. So moving into the Red Bull would let me loose, so to speak, and give me a chance to prove that Red Bull is where I belong."

"Right, you have had quite a spectacular season so far with a race win under your belt and a few podiums for good measure. What do you attribute that success to? Why is it so different now in an Alpha Tauri versus that coveted second Red Bull seat?"

Pierre purses his lips. The answer he was expected to give wasn't one he was willing to voice. Instead he opts for neutral. "I've been able to focus and hone my driving this season. I've found a groove that works for me and with it has come an insane amount of confidence, which is something I struggled with for awhile after going back to Torro Rosso. I think it's really just that I'm finally comfortable in the car and with my team and that makes a huge difference."

"Thank you for that," the journalist says and Pierre nods. "Shifting gears, I have a few questions about your personal life if you don't mind."

This was the part he always dreads. Questions were often prying and he had to subtly skirt around them in a way that offered a satisfying answer without giving away too much. It was an art he liked to think he had perfected over the years but still didn't enjoy.

"As long as you don't mind me staying silent if I don't want to answer."

The woman laughs, the sound sharp and grating. "Of course. Unless I can bribe you into giving me an exclusive."

"Likely not. But you ask the right questions and we'll see."

"You've been seen hanging around a certain London neighborhood lately- that wouldn't have anything to do with you and your lovely lady, would it?"

He had been waiting for that one, too. When the two of you had returned from Red Bull headquarters he had noticed the man taking pictures across the street. He hadn't said anything to you at the time because really, there was no point in getting you worked up when he had a plan to handle it.

The question played right into his hand, in fact.

Pierre sits forward, folding his hands in front of him. "Actually yes. We recently got back together and if you'll let me, I would like to make a request."

The woman leans back and checks her notes. "Well it's not quite what I had planned but please," she gives a flourish with a hand, "you have the floor."

"I know driver's personal lives are something that a lot of people are interested in and that's great. I don't mind sharing things with my fans or letting them get the inside scoop, but there's some things I would rather be left alone. My relationship is one of them. I know you all took note that she hasn't been around the past couple months and if I'm being honest, it's because of comments and press coverage that invaded her privacy. I think some people forgot she was more than just a name on a screen."

Pen poised to take notes, the interviewer prompts, "You said you had a request?"

He doesn’t stop to assess the damage he had already undoubtedly done. Sylvie was probably already on the phone doing damage control with every news outlet she could get her hands on, if her muted and black square at the bottom of the screen was an indication.

"All I'm asking is that you leave her alone. If you have questions or comments you have to make, just direct them at me. Don't follow her around asking about me. Don't comment on her posts unless you're capable of being a decent human. Just… let her live her life in peace."

Maybe he was a love sick fool, but honestly he didn't care if he lost some support from fans. If they had such strong opinions on his personal life, he would be better off without them anyway. And his team could cut him and even if he was unable to secure a seat in Formula 1 after next season, he would survive.

But if he lost you again, he would be broken. It had taken being apart from you for him to realize it and he'd be damned if he was ever disconnected from you like that again.

"That's quite the speech."

Pierre shrugs. "It was. She's the most important thing in my life, right up there with racing.” Now that he had started down the road of truth, he found it impossible to hold his tongue. “I lost her once because people couldn't be bothered to remember that their words have consequences. I won't let it happen again."

"So you see yourself with her for a long time then?" The woman's eyes glitter with the potential of getting an even juicer tidbit from him.

Pierre’s jaw sets, muscles feathering. "That's not something I'm prepared to discuss."

The woman purses her lips and tips her head to the side. There was clearly more she wanted to say. "Well, I have to thank you for what you've given me here. My boss is gonna love the exclusive. I won't push any further. Thanks for your comments, Pierre."

"Thanks for actually being respectful."

“We aren’t all monsters.” The woman shrugs. “I can’t say I haven’t had my moments but I try to be straightforward.”

“Right, yeah. I get that you have a job to do.”

“Anyway. I look forward to seeing what you can do the rest of this season. Good luck.”

He signs off and instantly anxiety washes over him. If she twisted his words he was screwed. Sylvie would be on the phone as soon as the article was printed, no doubt trying to soothe sponsors and investors. She'd give him an earful about being respectful and not poking the bear but he'd tune it out like he always did.

The sooner he got away from Red Bull, the better.

Instead of dwelling on it he busies himself with cooking. It was one of his guilty pleasures. He always requested a full kitchen when he was staying anywhere more than a few days so that if he had the chance to make a home-cooked meal, he had the option. For tonight he had selected his favorite recipe. Parmesan-Cesar chicken wasn't normally something you would ever touch with a ten foot pole but as long as he was making it, Pierre knew you'd at least give it a try.

Music blasting in the background, Pierre sings along quietly as he unpacks the rest of the ingredients and gets to work. He does a little spin between the island and the sink, rinsing the dishes and putting them right in the dishwasher as he uses them. A clean kitchen is the mark of a great chef, his mom had told him, drilling the phrase into him when he was young.

In the middle of cutting potatoes Pierre gets a call. He only has an hour until you're home so he doesn't bother stopping, just puts it on speaker and continues measuring spices.

"Hey Daniel."

"Heard you're in London," Daniel says, Australian accent thick. "And a little birdie told me you and your lady got back together."

"We did," Pierre says, a smile splitting his face. "Finally."

"Thank god, now I don't have to listen to your drunk woe-is-me rambling anymore."

Pierre laughs and sets aside the measuring spoons. "It's not that bad."

"Oh please." Pierre could practically hear the eyes rolling. "The number of times I had to send an uber to a bar after a grand prix is insane. Charles and I should be entitled to financial compensation with the amount of babysitting we've been doing."

"I can handle myself!"

"Not after a martini you can't."

He was right there. "Is there a point to this conversation?"

"Oh right- I'm actually in town today too, got some stuff to shoot for McLaren before we head to Austria for the race next week. You guys wanna come out with us tonight? We're heading to a bar or two."

"I actually had something planned-"

"She already said she's coming!" Dan's girlfriend shouts in the background.

“Well then why even ask me?”

“To be polite,” Daniel offers with a laugh. “We’re meeting at the rooftop bar at the Trafalgar hotel at seven. That give you enough time to do whatever you had planned that’s apparently more important than seeing your best mates?”

“We’ll be there,” Pierre says and hangs up. He finishes seasoning the potatoes and pops them in the oven, finally getting a chance to sit while they cook alongside the main course.

He's on his feet a few minutes later, decluttering the last bits of mess around your flat. It was clear it hadn't had a decent cleaning in quite awhile- hopefully you'd keep it tidy now that the effort had been made. The guys would tease him endlessly if they found out he was acting like a housewife.

You arrive home just as he’s setting the table. “God, it smells amazing in here.”

“Salut, mon amour.” Hands full with hot dishes, he settles for a kiss to your cheek. “I made dinner.”

“And you cleaned,” you observe. “You were a busy boy.”

“Pyry would kill me if he found out I was laying around all day. I had to do something.”

You hang your backpack on the hook behind the door and take a seat at the table. “Well remind me to thank him again when I see him. This looks delicious.”

Pierre grins over his shoulder at you. “Me or the food?”

You throw your head back and laugh, loud and unrestrained. “The food, you goof.”

Pierre quirks a brow. "Is that the honest answer?"

"Okay, maybe both."

The meal is filled with your ramblings about your exam and your new hobby- this month it was hiking. You went into detail about all the few trails in the city you’d been on as well as the more challenging ones that dotted the countryside. Pierre just nods along as you talk, already planning on staying up late to learn what he could about the topic so he could be a better conversation partner.

The pair of you work together to tidy the kitchen and put away any leftovers. “Did you bring something semi nice to wear tonight or do we have to make a quick trip to the store?”

“I’ve got some Tauri stuff I can wear. And not just team gear,” he adds when you groan. “You know that cream sweater you love? The one with the logo debossed on the front? I’ve got that.”

“Oh,” you say before biting your lip. Your eyes trail down his frame and back up like you’re imagining it on him. A tingle travels up his spine under your assessing gaze. If you kept that up, neither of you would make it out of the apartment tonight. “My favorite. Yeah, wear that. It’ll be on my floor by the end of the night.”

Pierre places his hands on your waist and grins. “Will it? And what will be on the floor from your closet, hm?”

“Your favorite dress.”

“The orange one?” He realizes half a second too late that you would never know how much he adored that dress from the gala. It had hugged your curves in all the right places and left your back exposed, which would leave him free to trace patterns on your soft skin whenever he pleased. He had missed out on worshipping you in it that night and he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to do so now.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t wear that to a bar.”

“Says who?” Pierre nuzzles his face against your neck, breathing you in. A light undercurrent of sweat from your walk home from classes mingles with the usual bright scent of you, only serving to rile him up further. Never in a million years would he have guessed that a simple scent could do him in, and yet here he was, completely wrapped up in yours.

“Says me.” You sigh, tipping your head to the side when Pierre’s nose grazes your skin.

His lips follow until he reaches your jaw before he pulls back. “What one are you wearing then?”

“Does it matter?” You cross your arms, the smirk playing on your kissable lips tempting him.

“I have to mentally prepare myself.” And if whatever you chose was too sexy, he would need to get his handsiness out of his system before the pair of you met up with Daniel and his girlfriend. The last thing he needed was to be on the front of some seedy gossip column when his plan was to ease back into it.

You smile up at him, broad and unrestrained as if knowing your answer would affect him greatly. “The cobalt blue one that makes you stutter.”

The dress in question was just as form fitting as the orange one, but shorter and decidedly more distracting. It fell mid thigh and the spaghetti straps left your shoulders exposed, which coupled with the low back displayed a downright sinful amount of skin. You had worn it at a Torro Rosso event a couple years back and he had scarcely been able to get a full sentence out around you all night.

“That one’s a close second.” He follows you to your room, leaving you to hunt through the closet while he digs through his suitcase, thankful that he had the foresight to check out of his hotel on the way back from Red Bull and bring his things here.

Because there was no way in hell he was missing a second of being by your side while he was in town. Every moment had to count when he had no idea when he would be able to sleep next to you again, not when the season was nearly over and there were two double headers between now and winter break. When so many variables stood between him and you, he had no problem prioritizing you over a routine workout or a full night’s rest.

Pierre changes into the sweater and a pair of dark skinny jeans well before you emerge from the bathroom. He doesn’t bother responding to Dan’s text that includes an address and reminds him to be on time, instead opting to scroll through his instagram feed. He likes a handful of posts from his fellow drivers, including one of Max actually smiling at something off camera.

“Well?”

Pierre’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice. The phone falls from his hand when he drags his eyes over your body, head to toe and back again.

Oh, he was so fucked.

Maybe it was selfish, but with your hair done like that, the barest brush of makeup lining your eyes and in that stunningly blue dress, he didn’t want any other man to have the privilege of laying their eyes on you.

No, you were all his.

The moment you’re within reach, Pierre places his hands on the back of your thighs, just beneath the curve of your barely covered ass. You chuckle and tap your fingers under his chin. “Close your mouth; you’ll catch flies.”

“Just so you know, if you wear that dress I can’t be held liable for my actions.” Up to and including scaring off anyone that wasn’t Daniel or his girlfriend. No one else deserved to be blessed with your radiance. Hell, he didn’t deserve it, and yet here you stood.

“We’ll see about that.”

**********

Daniel and his girlfriend had already made their way through a round of drinks by the time you arrive. It wasn’t Pierre’s fault he couldn’t keep his hands off you and wound up getting distracted on the drive over.

"Late as always," she greets, kissing your cheek. "Dan got us here fifteen minutes early because he wanted the table with the best view."

"Like our names wouldn't have gotten us the table if we asked," Pierre says, wrapping Daniel in a one-armed hug before kissing his girl’s cheek in a traditional French greeting. "The view is pretty great though."

You were already leaning on the glass partition, hands curled over the edge and undoubtedly leaving behind fingerprints on the pristine surface, completely unfazed by the fact that the other patrons were staring. You had eyes only for the London skyline and Trafalgar square lit up below. The bar with its white marble tabletops and strict dress code was absolutely not a place that you should be standing on your tiptoes for a better view, but there was no way he could condemn you when your face lit up like that.

Pierre just places a hand on the small of your back and shoots a look at the bartender currently glaring in your direction, daring the smartly dressed man to say anything. He only raises a brow and resumes filling drink orders.

"You guys know how to pick a place," you say, "I could stand here all night."

"Right," Daniel's girlfriend says, rolling her eyes at Pierre who shrugs as if to say what do you want me to do? He was powerless to deny you anything that brought you a semblance of joy; your smile was everything to him. “Love, why don’t you come tell us about uni? You’re the only one of us currently enrolled, and I’m sure the boys would love to hear about all the drama.”

You and Pierre share a secret grin. You shake your head but allow him to guide you back to the cocktail table. “Drama? I’m an engineering major. The closest thing we have to drama is someone grossly miscalculating a structural load.”

Dan shoots Pierre a mischievous grin. “I heard Stroll might be moving next year-”

Both you and Daniel’s girlfriend groan at the same time. “No racing talk when we’re around tonight,” she says. “I’ve heard enough lately.”

“What’s new in the publishing world?” You ask, leaning into Pierre when he wraps an arm around you. He only half listens to her explain the so-called “top secret” project she’s currently working on, instead opting to get drunk on you.

The light breeze filtering through the surrounding buildings ruffles your hair. You lift a hand absentmindedly to tuck it behind your ear in an attempt to keep it out of your face. Everything you do is amazing to him, snagging his attention even when he should be listening to whatever it was his friends were saying. Your gravity was simply too strong to bother resisting.

“Enough talk,” Daniel’s girlfriend says, waving a hand. “You need a drink, and I want to dance. Let’s go.” Before Pierre can protest, she’s dragging you away to the glass top bar. You throw an apologetic glance over your shoulder and Pierre just winks. He was fine watching you from afar for now.

Pierre’s gaze drops to your perky ass when you lean in to let the bartender know what you want, likely shouting to be heard over the music, your dress riding up a bit with the movement. For having such a strict dress code, this place sure did feel like an upper class club.

You hook your thumb over a shoulder, the bartender’s gaze darting to Pierre before the man nods. The only explanation you offer is a wink, followed by a note on a cocktail napkin and a beer delivered a few minutes later by a server.

This is supposed to be the best beer they have. Just try it.

Leave it to you to constantly push him outside his comfort zone. Pierre tentatively sniffs the foamy glass and shrugs before taking a sip. Not bad, but he still preferred his usual whiskey.

Setting the glass down, Pierre turns back to Daniel. “Congrats on extending your contract with McLaren by the way. Should give you a decent shot at keeping up with the big boys and landing some serious points.”

“Seems like most of us are moving around, doesn’t it? Sainz to Ferrari, Seb to Aston Martin... The only one with any sort of long term commitment is Max and now me I guess.”

“And Charles,” Pierre adds. “He’s stuck in that red monstrosity for the foreseeable future.”

Daniel laughs, taking a swig from his glass. “And you’re moving too, huh? Austria should be interesting,” Daniel remarks, watching the girls at the bar nursing their own drinks. “What with the news of your new contract breaking and all.”

“Potential contract,” Pierre corrects. “Not for sure yet.”

Daniel scoffs. “Come on mate. You won’t have any problem getting up to seventh by the end of the season. Perez is slipping and the news that his seat is in jeopardy will only help your cause.”

Pierre takes a sip of his amber beer and nods. “I’m sure Perez doesn’t appreciate it, but he’s always been a good sport.” You catch Pierre’s eye and lift your fresh flute of champagne in a mock salute. Dan’s girlfriend drags you out on the dancefloor and immediately spins you. Your laugh is nearly audible, the memory of it fresh in Pierre’s mind as he watches you.

“Mate, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Daniel shakes his head and drains his drink. “I really don’t know how it took you two this long to come together. You’ve been dancing around each other for years but neither of you would admit it.”

“I could say the same about you two.”

Daniel shrugs. “Fair point. At least we got it all worked out in a weekend though.”

Pierre rolls his eyes and shoves his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever. Not all of us can have a perfect love story.”

The grin Daniel shoots Pierre is pure sunshine. “How long are you planning on waiting before you ask her to marry you?”

“What?” Pierre sputters, nearly choking on air. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“Oh come on,” Dan says, rolling his eyes. “We all know it’s coming eventually.”

Pierre would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. But he wasn’t sure if it was the time for a proposal, not when you had just gotten back together. The last thing he wanted to do was go through the pain of losing you again because he was too forward.

“One day at a time,” Pierre says finally, dragging himself back to earth. “I just got her back a few days ago. I don't want to scare her off by proposing just yet.”

“Right. Well you might want to get a ring on that hand sooner rather than later,” Daniel notes, gesturing to the two men who had approached the girls. “How long are we gonna let that go on before we step in?” Neither of you paid the men any attention, instead enjoying each other’s company, but the men’s eyes roaming over your body sets Pierre on edge.

“They can handle themselves,” Pierre remarks, shifting on his feet. The weak attempt at self assurance didn’t do much to negate the red tinting his vision. “They’re fine.”

“Her sharp tongue will hold them at bay,” Daniel says, winking at his girlfriend. “For a while at least.” Props to Daniel for possessing inhuman amounts of restraint, but Pierre’s muscles were coiled and ready to interject at the first sign of trouble.

He has to pause to remind himself he doesn't own you. You could make your own decisions about who you spoke with and who you entertained as long as he was the one to take you home. He didn't care if you wanted to flirt; he knew it meant nothing and if you got a free drink out if it then so be it. But those were the rules: flirting, no touching. He'd step in if need be if someone took it too far.

But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

Pierre watches tight lipped as you politely chat with the man, your body language closed off and dismissive. Pierre hates that you even speak a word to him. He knows it shouldn’t bother him because he trusts you, but the stranger is a wild card. Pierre watches like a hawk as the man inches ever closer, slowly interesting himself into your personal space. He waits for you to take a step back, to grant him that silent permission to come over and insert himself in the conversation and get his hands on you, this proving you weren't on the market.

One of the men shouts something at you over the music and you leer back at him, clearly disgusted at whatever he had said. Whirling on him, you open your mouth, likely to snap out a profanity lined retort, when his hand latches onto your arm.

"Oh, fuck no."

Half a second later, Pierre is stalking across the dance floor, no thoughts other than teaching the asshole a lesson. His hands are already curled into fists, ready to swing if the man hadn't moved by the time he arrived. Tolerating someone hitting on you was one thing, but blatantly ignoring the clear dismissals and laying a hand on you? No way in hell was he standing by and letting that happen.

The resounding crack of your open hand hitting the man’s face has pride swelling in Pierre’s chest. That’s my girl. You’d solved the problem before he’d even arrived. You jab a finger in the man’s face, Daniel’s girlfriend right there with you to back you up.

“Fuck off,” you were saying as Pierre approached, “or do you need to go back to kindergarten and learn to keep your hands to yourself? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before laying a hand on a taken woman- or any woman, for that matter.”

Driving your point home, Pierre slips an arm around your waist and pulls you in until your back is flush to his chest. You crane your neck up, the tense muscles beneath his fingertips and the fury contorting your features confirming just how rattled you are.

The lines creasing your brow are soothed away when you realize who holds you. You open your mouth to say something but Pierre places a hand on your throat, thumb and forefinger framing your jaw as he cuts you off with a kiss, his eyes locked on the guy still standing off to the side holding his cheek.

You taste like the champagne you’d been sipping all night. It’s the only thought in his head outside of the jealousy licking through his veins like wildfire as he claims you then and there in front of the crowd. Mine, his heart sings. He flexes his fingers, taking advantage of your surprised gasp to slide his tongue against yours. Mine, mine, mine.

Pierre lets you be the one to break away, lips curling in a smug, kiss-swollen smile as you address the men. “In case you still don’t get the picture, I’m not interested. And neither is she.” You jerk your chin, indicating your friend and Daniel, who had indeed followed Pierre and since mirrored his possessive stance, one arm wrapped tightly around his own girlfriend.

The two men reluctantly slink away after mumbling something unintelligible but undoubtedly indecent. It had been a week and a half since he had been on track and he had plenty of pent up aggression to get out. He didn’t normally opt for using someone’s face as a punching back as a stress reliever, but rulers were made to be broken. Your hand splayed on Pierre’s chest is all that stops him from following and asking them to repeat themselves.

“Just let me hit him,” Pierre says, voice far more level and put together than he had expected it to be. “Just one punch. That’s all I would need.” His knuckles smart like he had already connected them to the man’s face.

“And let you throw away your contract? I don’t think so. The last thing you need is a blurry photo of you knocking someone’s teeth in hitting the front page of every gossip mag in the country. I’m fine, so you can cut the bravado.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“I was wondering how long you were gonna leave us out here,” you say, trying to regain Pierre’s attention. When it doesn’t work, you grasp his stubbled chin and force him to look at you. “I didn’t expect to be stranded for so long.”

The eye contact is what finally calms his racing thoughts. Seeing the trust reflected in your face is enough to have his grip on your waist loosening to allow you to face him. “Someone convinced me you could fend for yourself. And while it seems that’s true, I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Your satisfied hum is swallowed by the pounding bass but Pierre feels it rumble in his chest. “Sometimes even a queen needs saving.”

Though his point had long since been proven, Pierre’s hand slides down your back to rest on your ass nonetheless. “I knew you going out looking like this would cause trouble.”

You tip your head to the side, feigning innocence as you press your hips to his. You grin, noticing the hard on that had been bothering him all night. “Looking like what?”

“Drop dead fucking gorgeous,” he says, accentuating his point by sliding his hand up your thigh and under the hem of your dress. “You know I’m tearing this off you the second we get home, right?”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

The sound that escapes him is primal and possessive. The presence of bystanders does nothing to prevent him from palming your ass and kneading the flesh. He presses his lips to your neck and mumbles between kisses, “To torture me.”

You push lightly at his chest, laughing although your eyes dart around the space in search of cameras. Old habits were hard to break. “That may have been part of my motivation. But you’ll have to wait. I haven’t seen Dan in forever and I would actually like to have a conversation with him before we sneak off somewhere.”

At least you knew he wouldn’t be able to wait until you got home to get between your legs. “Fine,” he grumbles, hands settling on your hips. “Only because I love you.”

You beam up at him. “Love you too.”

Arm still slung around your waist, Pierre nods at Daniel and follows the other couple back to the table.

After two more drinks, you and Daniel's girlfriend are singing along to the music in lilting, off key voices, simply enjoying the night air. A stray breeze catches your hair just as you turn to look at Pierre and his heart damn near leaps out of his chest.

To his credit, Pierre’s cheeks are rosy from more than just the charged glances you throw at him as the night wears on. He was on his fourth beer, far more than he usually drank these days, and the buzzing in his head was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. When he has to squint to tell the time on his watch, he figured that was enough.

"I should probably get going mate," Pierre says, turning to Daniel. "Early flight."

Daniel laughs and beacons for the girls. He kisses his girlfriend's cheek when she returns with you in tow. "Are we leaving already?" You pout, and Pierre had half a mind to stay simply have your smile make an encore appearance.

"Car coming," he murmurs, dipping his head to give you a proper kiss. God, you were stunning in that dress- he might not be able to string together words coherently, but he knew that much.

"Fine." You cross your arms for a split second to convey your feelings on the matter before wrapping your friends in a hug and saying your goodbyes.

Pierre's hand is already on your ass before you're in the uber. Get a few drinks in the boy and he let his guard down. You laugh and pull out of his embrace to usher him into the sleek black suv. If he had been coherent, he probably would have chatted with the driver about the specs of the engine or maybe even racing if he was a fan. Instead the ride is filled with stolen touches and sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

"I can't wait till we're home," he mumbles. "You're gorgeous. How did I snag you? You're so far out of my league. No way should you be with me."

"I have a thing for guys that go fast in circles on the weekends."

"Really?" Pierre frowns. "Should I be worried?"

"No. You're the only one I have eyes for." His head is fuzzier than when you left the bar but your laugh breaks through, his stomach flipping at the melody of it. "And we are home."

Pierre blinks, realizing he does indeed stand in your kitchen, with no recollection of climbing the three flights of stairs between the street and your flat. "Oh. When did that happen?"

"After I half dragged you up the stairs." You bend over to undo the straps of your heels, giving him the perfect view. He lets out a whistle that ends in a hiccup.

"Take me to bed, lover," he says in what he thinks is a husky voice. It should be impossible for you to resist.

You roll your eyes and wrap an arm around his middle. "That's the plan. I'll take you to bed, strip you out of that sweater, and you'll be asleep before your head hits the pillow."

"Nnnnnno," he protests, hand sliding down your exposed back to settle at the base of your spine. "I wanna make the most of tonight. I leave tomorrow."

"You don't leave until noon," you point out. "Plenty of time to nurse your hangover and have fun before then, after you drink some water and get some sleep."

"But baby-"

"No buts. Do as I say or I'll send you off tomorrow without a goodbye kiss."

Even in his half drunken state he knew it was a swiss cheese lie, spotted with holes and completely stale. You'd never let him leave without a kiss goodbye because neither of you knew if it would be the last time. He was a race car driver after all, and that came with risks.

But he sighs anyways and slips off the cream sweater, letting it fall to the floor. At least one of you kept their promises.

After confirming he was settled into bed, you retreat to the bathroom. His heart aches at the absence, even though you're mere feet away with nothing but a thin door separating the two of you. He registers the sound of the tap turning on and your soft, off key humming of the last song he remembered hearing before getting out of the uber.

"Mon amour," he croons when you re-emerge in a set of silk pajamas. He reaches out his hands for you and you slide under the covers, immediately slotting your body against his. A leg hitches over his hip, tugging him closer until your middles touch.

"Mmm," he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. "Je t'aime. Tu es l'amour de ma vie et nous vivons d'amour et d'eau fraîche."

"I have no idea what you're saying," you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. "But I like it. Feel free to keep going."

"Tes baisers sont du feu et je fond à ton toucher." He presses his lips to your neck before resuming his mumbled French. "Je pense toujours à toi. Je veux être avec toi pour toujours. Tu as mon cœur et je ne voudrais pas qu'il en soit autrement."

"I like the sound of that." You press a soft, sweet kiss to his forehead. God, that tenderness was why he loved you. That, and your personality, and your eyes, and your… everything. "Dormir, my love. I'll be here to listen to your pretty words in the morning."

The single word of his mother tongue on your lips has him smiling. "Oui, tu le feras. Parce que tu es à moi et je suis à toi."

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