#university lecture capture | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fgumi · 6 months ago

Text

🌿•₊✧💻⋆⭒˚☕️｡⋆ CATCH A BREAK

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!taesan x reader, GENRE; fluff, romance, uni!au, one shot, WC; 5.9k, WARNING(S); profanity, alcohol consumption, ASK; maybe you cld write a scenario for bnd's taesan? where he's in university and he meets the reader, A/N; for @dendrobiumorchid, hey! hey... it's been a long time since you sent this request in... i finally caught the writer's wind to write it. i don't know if it fully captures what you wanted, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless because i loved writing it heh. }

taesan sighed. a new semester. the last one was hardly kind to him. he knew mechanical engineering was going to be a difficult major. he thought, at the very least, he’d enjoy the college experience. but, no… meche was leeching away at his very soul. when will he catch a break?

soon, apparently.

first day of class and everyone was buzzing with excitement, fresh off the break sharing vacation stories and whatnot. they were so loud. his break was just him working, spending a few days of the holiday with family, working, contemplating whether or not engineering was for him, and… you guessed it. working.

he trudged into the lecture hall, the strap of his backpack barely hanging onto his shoulder, and sat himself in the back. because it was a required course, the class was full. more people filed in, sitting any spot that they could find.

the professor strode in, silencing the crowd with an authoritative tap on the microphone. a syllabus and a couple of slides later, taesan’s eyes briefly flickered to the creaky doors opening. he watched as you hurried in, windswept hair, silently apologizing to your professor before making your way to a seat.

—

you groaned. you could not have had a worse start to your semester. you barely managed to make it back to campus this morning after your flight was continuously delayed. you planned to come the day before so you could situate yourself a little, but all you had time to do was chuck your suitcases in your room and sprint to class. not to mention, tabling for the semester had started and everyone was trying to get people to join their orgs. usually, you’d stop and listen intently, but today was not that day. the tablers thought otherwise though. not one, not two, but three people stopped on your mad dash to class.

are you interested in joining ballroom dancing? not really! sorry! i’m late to class!

would you like to join women in stem? i would but can’t right now! late!

do you wanna donate to sigma alpha epsilon? NO! can’t you see i’m fucking late?

oops. you felt bad (not really). you’re usually a very polite person. today was just not your day.

you managed to find your lecture hall, only 10 minutes late. you tried to open the doors silently, except they had no plans to stay silent. the squeaky hinges alerted your professor that you arrived. you sheepishly bowed, trying to convey your apology, before trying to find a seat. a seat in this full lecture. wow. this was awkwa— oh! there’s a seat!

your eyes met another’s. instinctually, you averted your gaze, focusing on your feet as you made your way to the empty seat.

since it was in the middle of the row and you didn’t feel like crawling over all those poor people, you climbed all the way to the back of the room. when you got behind the empty seat, you noticed a backpack on it. you looked at the girl on the right and saw her backpack by her feet. so, you safely assumed it was the guy on the left’s. you crouched down and tapped his shoulder. he glanced over, meeting your eyes. oh shoot. it was the guy you made awkward eye contact with.

“i’m so sorry, but do you mind if i sit here?” you whispered. he just nodded and removed his backpack, turning back to his notes.

you dropped your backpack in front of the seat and stiffly climbed over, careful to not kick anyone’s head. once you plopped in your seat, you quickly got your laptop out, taking notes over what your professor was currently speaking about.

—

a wildly awkward entrance. an even more awkward attempt at silently getting into the seat beside him. taesan wanted to laugh. not at you, persay. there he sat thinking that his life sort of sucked, but then you came in. flushed and looking a bit out of place. as sorry as it might be, he found some comfort in your misfortune.

at the end of the lecture, taesan felt the tension leave your body—or rather, saw—when your body melted in the seat and you threw your head back with a groan. while he packed up his pencil case, he caught you scrolling through the lecture pdf, trying to see what you missed. he could offer you his notes. taesan looked down at his notebook… maybe not. he doubted that you’d be able to read it.

before he could make up his mind, you slammed your laptop shut and shoved it in your backpack. you followed the rest of the stragglers out of the lecture hall, leaving taesan to retract his hand and close his mouth with words left unsaid.

now, taesan didn’t give you much thought after that. why would he? he didn’t know you. but, you did start appearing in his head after he noticed that you kept sitting by him for the following lectures. like you were assigned that seat.

you weren’t late anymore. sometimes, you were even earlier than him. this led to the two of you sharing polite nods and pleasant smiles but nothing more. until a month in.

he knew from the syllabus that grading was divided between attendance, exams, and partner projects. was he looking forward to those projects? absolutely not. he hated them. people inevitably got distracted and couldn’t manage their own pace.

by the end of lecture, he was paired with some guy named jaehyun for the first partner project. the guy seemed great. a little too social for his liking, though. in taesan’s mind, overly social people tended to be less committed to completing their part of the project. so, he mentally prepared himself to do the majority of it by himself.

but, taesan also found himself a bit disappointed. he didn’t have anyone that he would have preferred over jaehyun—he didn’t know anyone in that class—but he was curious about you. he’s seen how you take notes. you followed the lecture and put in your own comments between content notes, little things here and there that personalized your learning. he admired it. so much so, taesan started doing it himself. he wondered what your name was…

taesan didn’t have to wonder for too long. in the middle of one of his and jaehyun’s meetups, you came bouncing along.

“hey, myungjae!” you smiled. that was new. the only facial expressions taesan had ever seen on you was confusion, despair, and frustration. this… this was a nice change.

jaehyun waved back with a big grin. “well, if it isn’t the queen herself, miss y/n.”

taesan noted your name, saying it a couple of times in his head. it was a nice name. it suited you.

you rolled your eyes and gave him a smack on the shoulder. “stop calling me that. literally no one else calls me that.”

“i’d beg to differ.” jaehyun wiggled his finger at you. “leehan calls you that all the time.”

“that’s only because i feed his fish when he’s at work,” you replied. you glanced at taesan curiously before recognition bloomed on your face. “hey! you’re the guy that i sit next to in class.”

taesan awkwardly smiled. “ya… i’m taesan.”

“y/n,” you nodded back, returning his smile with the same cordial one you give him in class. (darn. taesan felt disappointment when you didn’t give him the same smile as jaehyun. why was he disappointed?) you turned your focus back to jaehyun. “i didn’t know you knew taesan.”

“we’re partners for the partner project!”

you blinked. “what partner project?”

jaehyun sighed, giving you a flat look. “the one in class?”

one. two. three. four. five—

“holy shit! you’re in that class too?” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

jaehyun clutched his chest, throwing himself to the side. “my queen doesn’t perceive me. she doesn’t even know we share a class together.”

taesan watched as you wrestled jaehyun, who was being dramatic and acting like you were actually hurting him. you were a brighter person outside of class, knowledge that taesan wouldn’t have been privy to if it weren’t for this partner project. taesan found himself smiling at your light laughs and quips about jaehyun’s airheadedness. he glanced at the time. shoot. he had to go to work.

“sorry,” taesan said as he packed up his stuff. “i gotta head out, but we can text about the rest of the stuff.”

you pulled away from jaehyun, letting the poor guy catch his breath. “oh my— i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize that i was bothering you guys for that long.”

taesan waved nonchalantly. “it’s okay. this was more of an impromptu, just to iron out some details. we were practically done when you came.”

you pouted. cute. cute? cute? taesan internally froze. you were cute?

whatever you said after, he didn’t catch. his mind was currently scrambling about how he found someone (you) cute. he subconsciously nodded at whatever you were saying and made his leave, making an excuse that he was about to be really late. as he hurried away, he heard you tell jaehyun. “maybe he doesn’t like boba.”

funny you should say that. he was on his way to his job… which was making boba.

as taesan sealed the drink he was currently making, his thoughts drifted back to you. the girl that sat next to him during class. the girl that he academically admired enough to copy her notetaking style. the girl that very awkwardly made an appearance in his life. the girl he found cute.

after he called out the drink, he turned and groaned, leaning on his coworker, woonhak. “woonhak, i think my years are getting to me.”

woonhak, his junior by two years, patted him on the head. “you are getting old, man. but, don’t worry. i hear that the standard of living for old people is getting higher.”

taesan whipped his head up and punched woonhak’s shoulder. as the younger man whined and rubbed his shoulder, taesan rinsed the dishes in the sink.

“okay, i’ll bite. what makes you say that?” woonhak asked.

taesan shook his hands before wiping away the excess water off with a rag. “there’s this girl—”

“a girl!?” taesan’s glare silenced woonhak’s exaggerated gasp.

“i knew her—well, not really—but i finally met her and… i found her cute…” taesan trailed off, putting away the refrigerated items left on the counter.

“hold on. you found a girl cute,” woonhak tilted his head. “and that’s why i became a victim of violence? dude, it’s normal to find people attractive.”

“i know. it’s just that i’ve been knowing her. she sits next to me in class. it’s just… i didn’t think of her as anything until i knew her name,” taesan murmured.

woonhak stroked his chin. “names are a powerful kind of magic.”

taesan stared at woonhak blankly before sighing. “you’ve been playing d&d too much.”

woonhak’s cheeks puffed out, his defense bubbling in his throat before he noticed the customer at the register. he turned to them and put on his brightest smile. “hi! what can i get you today?”

taesan moved beside woonhak to hear the order when he heard his name from a familiar voice. “taesan?”

he looked up and saw you. you brightened when you saw that you were right. “you work here?”

at that moment, he thanked his barber for accidentally leaving the sides of his hair long because he knew the tips of his ears were beginning to redden. “oh, hey. ya, i do.”

“i guess you do like boba! when you didn’t reply to my offer to buy you boba, i thought you hated it or something.” your grin was very blinding. at least to him, seeing how he was only familiar with the details of your face when you were feeling negative emotions. wait. details of your face? oh shoot. taesan was screwed.

he let out an awkward chuckle. “ya… i didn’t see a point since i work at a boba shop…” you offered to buy him boba? as an apology for interrupting his meeting with jaehyun? fuck, he didn’t hear that.

“oh… well! how about i buy you food instead? i feel really bad about the whole—”

“no! it’s okay. really…”

you blinked at his interjection and then laughed. “well, you can’t stop me from tipping you then. you do get your tips, right? i heard some owners don’t give their employees the tips.”

woonhak gasped. “are you serious?”

you nodded earnestly. “my friend, leehan, doesn’t get the tips because he gets paid a flat rate. it’s stupid, really. so, i just venmo him the tip.”

“that’s diabolical. that should be illegal,” woonhak sighed with a shake of his head.

you hummed in agreement before looking up at the menu. “do you mind if i order?”

“oh, not at all!” woonhak’s hand hovered the screen. while you were still contemplating your order, taesan braved taking a glance at your face. what details was he remembering?

your overall face did seem happier than what he was used to in class. you seemed lighter. the corners of your lips weren’t downturned like usual, quirked the slightest bit upward as you pouted. your tired eyes were brighter, glistening almost, like they held more life. usually, you looked dead, focusing on the lecture and your notes. your hair was more kempt, though he did find himself liking the messy updos you did in class.

“and will that be all?” woonhak’s voice broke his train of thought. taesan blinked. he missed your entire order. he looked at the pos and saw an oolong milk tea with grass jelly. coincidentally, his favorite drink. it’s like fate— no. he is not letting himself get delusional.

he forced himself to make the drink quickly, handing it to you after wiping it down. you smiled at him. “see you in class!”

taesan’s gaze lingered on you as you walked away until you were out of view. he turned to woonhak who was already looking at him with a smirk.

“oh. you’ve got it bad,” woonhak laughed. he clapped in excitement and threw his arm around taesan’s shoulders. “don’t worry. i think you got a chance.”

woonhak released taesan to check how much of a tip you left. his eyes widened before he hit taesan’s arm. “dude, you definitely got a chance. she tipped $20.”

taesan gawked at the amount. you were generous. it made him smile a bit, but he schooled his expression. he couldn’t give woonhak more things to tease him about. he’d just have to thank you in class.

and he did. thank you, that is.

you just brushed him off with a smile, saying it was no big deal. but, the smile was different this time. no strain. the politeness was still there, but there was more. genuine joy. not as big as the one you gave jaehyun, but better than the one you usually gave him. it felt nice. but, with this, he was scared. what if he started craving more? like seeing you out of class? or trading numbers to compare notes? well, now that he put that into his head, taesan was definitely gonna start hoping that. stupid.

as much as he tried to stamp those feelings down, over the next few weeks, he did start seeing you more out of class. out of coincidence, of course. it started with small waves across the food hall. then, it was whenever you passed each other on campus. then, it was at jaehyun’s party.

“dude, you need to come. you literally carried the whole project. the least i could do is help you unwind this weekend.” jaehyun’s eyes were round and hopeful. it was hard to say no. so, taesan said yes.

taesan isn’t a partier though. he actually hates crowds. they’re loud, messy, and… sticky—whether it be from sweat or spilled alcohol… he dreaded to think of any other reasons. but, jaehyun reassured him. it’d be a get-together in his apartment, so the crowd won’t be too big. taesan somehow doubted it, but he still found himself going. with woonhak, of course.

“can’t believe you know the myung jaehyun and you’re inviting me to one of his parties,” woonhak said, jumping with excitement. “he only ever invites his circles and they’re all cool.”

taesan rolled his eyes as they walked to jaehyun’s apartment. “this isn’t some hallmark movie, woonhak. everyone’s normal. they aren’t any cooler than you or me.”

taesan didn’t often take back his words. he prided himself on only sharing universal facts or opinions that he firmly stood by. but, there you were, making taesan eat his words. you were off to the side behind a small dj set, mixing some of the best club mixes he’s ever heard.

woonhak bumped his shoulder, returning with two drinks in his hand. “they aren’t any cooler, huh? that’s not what your face says.” woonhak sipped his drink as taesan absentmindly took his.

you looked so free. headset wrapped around your neck, hands busy with the dials. you were the definition of cool. you just mixed girls generation’s gee into gd x taeyang’s good boy. who does that? you. you did that. and, people were eating it up, loving the build up and drop.

what he’d usually think is just loud noise, taesan found himself enjoying, grooving with woonhak who was having a blast.

“yooo! taesan! you made it!” jaehyun approached him with open arms. taesan moved his drink just out of reach before jaehyun gave him a bear hug. “i honestly wasn’t sure if you were gonna come! i was scared i got y/n’s hopes up for nothing!”

you were hoping he’d come? though taesan was smirking, internally, he was doing flips and feeling mildly shy. “apparently, i couldn't miss the myung jaehyun’s party.”

“please! it’s just a get-together,” jaehyun said with a shrug.

taesan’s eyebrow quirked. “a get-together… with a dj?”

jaehyun glanced at you before grinning brightly. “it’s just y/n! even though her mixes are insane.”

taesan laughed before taking a sip of his drink. the burn of alcohol was slight but enough to make him recoil a bit. jaehyun laughed at his reaction. “is it strong? i told y/n to go easy on the tequila.”

at taesan’s shrug, jaehyun just patted him on the back. “come on! let’s go say hi to y/n!”

jaehyun grabbed his arm and pulled him a step forward before turning back to woonhak. “you too!” jaehyun let go of taesan to wrap his arm around woonhak’s shoulder, pulling him and taesan through the crowd. when they approached you, you were talking to another guy who was leaning a bit close for it to be a casual conversation. it made taesan squirm inside. alright, let’s calm down. she’s just your classmate.

you looked up from your conversation and yelled. “taesan! you came!”

when the guy looked put-off by you pulling away from him, taesan couldn’t help but feel a bit smug. but, there’s nothing to feel smug about. stop it. just because you were coming up to taesan right now with open arms and the world’s most blinding smile—it doesn’t mean anything. because taesan doesn’t have a crush on you.

you wrapped your arms around him and he gently returned it. you pulled away, only slightly, to look up at him. taesan could make out the slight blush—he means flush—on your cheeks. you gave him a dopey smile. “i’m glad you came! i’m a bit tipsy heh.”

as if taesan caught on fire, you jumped back and covered your gasp with your hand. “sorry! i don’t know if you’re comfortable with hugs. i should’ve asked before—”

“you’re fine, y/n.” taesan softly patted your head which made you smile again.

you turned to woonhak and pointed. “boba guy!”

woonhak sheepishly waved back when jaehyun grabbed him by the shoulders. “do you work at the boba shop?”

woonhak nodded, leaning back slightly at jaehyun’s closeness. jaehyun suddenly hugged him. “dude, you’re my new friend. i freaking love boba.”

you side-eyed jaehyun. it was a cute expression. shit. no. stop it, taesan.

you abruptly linked your arm with taesan. “well, taesan’s been my friend and he also works at the boba shop. i had an insider before you.” you stuck your tongue out at jaehyun before leaning up to whisper in taesan’s ear (which was heating up at your proximity). “i don’t want free boba or anything. i’m just competing against jaehyun.”

“ya, right. you don’t even have your friend’s number,” jaehyun scoffed, jutting his hip out sassily.

your jaw dropped. you scrambled to pull out your phone. “i’m sorry, but would you mind giving me your number?”

taesan could see woonhak smirking out of the corner of his eye. he held back his sigh. he was definitely gonna hear about this at work. he took your phone and put in his number, saving himself as taesan (seatmate). when he returned it to you, you pouted. he watched you type on your phone before you showed him your screen. taesan 🐈‍⬛🥳.

“you’re not just my seatmate, silly. you’re my friend!” if you grinned any wider, taesan was scared he was going to be permanently blinded. he just smiled at you and patted your head again.

“yes, ma’am,” he replied softly. your eyes crinkled and taesan didn’t know how he was still standing. he’ll finally admit it to himself. you were cute, so painfully cute.

the night continued with you and jaehyun bickering between songs, jaehyun whisking away woonhak to show him all his pokemon cards, you asking taesan a million questions about himself, and taesan returning the favor by asking “what about you?”.

by the end of the party, taesan knew that you preferred listening to soft songs over the k-pop edm that you mix. he knew that you loved feeling the sun on your face but also got really sleepy from it. he knew how you took your matcha (not coffee because you couldn’t handle how bitter it was). he knew that you couldn’t internalize study material without eating ramen at least twice during your study session. he knew a bunch of things about you now. the downsides? he admits he has crush on you and it’s grown and may have a tiny chokehold on him.

of course, it wasn’t confirmed until he noticed himself searching for you in ordinary things. every matcha order he makes, he thought about how you’d rate it based off of your order. every time the sun peaked through the clouds, he thought about how you’d wanna take a nap. every song he came across, he thought about putting it in a playlist he most certainly did not make after learning about your preferences.

okay, so maybe he did like you a little more than he initially thought. but, it doesn’t stop him from acting normal in class. thank goodness. you two carried on, attending lectures now as friends. you indeed did start comparing notes after exchanging numbers, studying together in your apartment even. taesan found himself amused whenever you stopped to make some ramen. you started hanging out from time to time, jaehyun and woonhak included at the most random times. but, he cherished when it was just you two. and, usually, it was when you wanted to go on nightly bike rides.

“it’s too dangerous for me to walk. at least, on a bike, i can speed away from any assailants!” you explained to him with determination. he shook his head, finding you endearing.

it was after these nights that taesan knew he was falling in love with you. whenever he was at work and couldn’t text you, woonhak said he was sulking too much, being more unapproachable than usual. sometimes, he’d make your matcha order just to better remember the time you introduced him to your favorite matcha place. during other partner projects, he thought about how you might go about the topics. on his walks home after work, he wished he was out riding bikes with you, screaming about everything and nothing. whenever he heard k-pop songs playing at work, he thought about the new mixes you’d send him for a sneak peak. on the days the wind was a little harsh on the way to class, he’d crave the way you’d subconsciously cuddle into his side.

one day, you didn’t show up to class. taesan waited. 10 minutes turned into 20, then 30. taesan could hardly focus on the lecture. where were you? he shot you a text. are you okay?

you sent one back just as fast. i feel like there’s a rave going on in my head :(

excuse me? taesan stared at his phone concerned. do you need to go to the er?

noooo! i’m just gonna rot in bed and hope the vaporub does its magic 🙂

as soon as the professor dismissed everyone, taesan shoved everything in his backpack haphazardly and rushed out. what makes sick people feel better? soup, right?

he quickly texted woonhak, asking him to cover his shift. when woonhak agreed and probed why, taesan just said your name. woonhak didn’t ask after that. he just sent a smirking emoji that taesan rolled his eyes at.

he rushed home and put a pot on the stove. he threw open his fridge, glasses clinking violently. taesan stared at his fridge for ingredients. he knew the turmeric in the seasoning pantry would help. he had half of his rotisserie chicken left. he looked at the carrots but remembered you weren’t a fan. he noted the minced ginger and lemons. okay, chicken noodle soup. a classic.

taesan got to work, chopping up all the ingredients in bite-sized pieces and shredding the chicken. he grabbed the chicken stock from his pantry and poured it into the pot. he threw garlic, ginger, turmeric, onions, celery, etc. and started heating it up. he taste-tested every so often, making sure that it’d at least taste good. by the end, taesan was proud to say it was definitely homemade chicken noodle soup. he sprinkled in some cayenne since he knew how much you liked spicy food. he packed it all up in a soup container and texted you. omw to yours!

he stared at the box on his counter, debating whether or not to give it to you. would this be a good time? would it seem inconsiderate? taesan groaned before tucking it under his arm and heading out. his phone buzzed, a reply from you. but you might get sick :(

taesan smiled and shook his head. as if that would stop him from seeing his girl. oh. his girl? you’re not his girl. yet, he hoped.

he near sprinted to your apartment, waving down the people in the lobby to fob him up to your floor. before he knocked on your door, he caught his breath, trying to appear normal. after a few minutes, he knocked and was surprised by how quickly you answered.

oh, you were so cute, wearing a snuggie and the fluffy cat pajama pants he got you for secret santa.

“you didn’t have to come,” you croaked, moving aside so he could step in. as you closed the door behind him, you peered curiously at the box in his arms. “whatcha got there?”

taesan turned and presented you the box. “i made you soup since you’re sick and all.”

you tilted your head in confusion. “where’s the soup?”

he looked down at his hands. holy— where’s the soup? then, he remembered. when he finally decided to bring the box, he forgot to grab the soup on the counter. he groaned and hung his head.

“i might have forgot it,” he muttered. he’s so stupid. how could he forget the whole purpose of him coming here?

you giggled and then winced. “well, what did you bring instead?”

taesan quickly hid the box behind his back and nervously laughed. “nothing! nothing. how about i go back to my apartment and bring the soup?”

“you don’t have to,” you shook your head slowly. “you can, however, tell me what the box is.”

“uh, i’m gonna go back and get the soup!” taesan yelped as he shuffled around you, careful to keep the box out of your reach.

you frowned (cutely, taesan would add). “but, you’re already here. so is the box.”

“how about i give you the box after i get the soup?” taesan tried to reason.

“how about you leave the box and go get the soup—so you don’t forget it again—and i take a peak in the box?” you suggested cheekily. you wiggled your eyebrows at him, swaying a little. oh, how taesan would never win against you.

“if you promise to wait until i give you the soup, i’ll leave the box.”

you paused and thought about it. you sighed and agreed in defeat. “fine. i’ll wait.”

“good girl,” taesan smirked as he set the box on the kitchen counter. you handed him your keys as he opened the door. “i’ll know if you tried to open it by the way.”

as you rolled your eyes, taesan left, his heart racing. he really hoped you wouldn’t open the box until he was back. what if you didn’t wanna see him after? he wouldn’t be able to give you your soup and then he’d have to eat this soup knowing that you hated him.

the anxiety fueled him. he did a full sprint to his apartment and raced up the stairs. he snatched the soup container and raced back down. like the world was smiling down on him, people were already going into your complex so he slipped in with them. he couldn’t stop tapping his foot impatiently, glaring at the numbers going up slowly. when it finally stopped on your floor, his feet stomped down the hall to your door.

he opened your apartment door to see you on the couch, poking at the box sadly. when you heard him come in, your head whipped up which made you wince. he shook his head and lightly scolded you. “you’re gonna make your headache worse.”

“i was just excited to see you,” you muttered. man, that made him a bit hopeful.

he smiled as he dug through your drawers for a spoon before presenting you with the soup. you clapped softly and took it. “did you make it?”

taesan nodded shyly. “sorry if it doesn’t taste that good. but, it will help you get better. so, i expect you to finish it.”

when you took your first sip, taesan could’ve sworn your eyes twinkled.

“taesan, no joke, this is so good,” you praised, taking more spoonfuls.

taesan let out a sigh of relief before plopping down next to you. “i’m glad. i would’ve gone home and cried if you said it was bad.”

you hummed before setting down the soup. you faced him, then pointed at the box. “can i open it now?”

just like that, tension reentered his body. fuck. he did say that he’d give it to you after he got the soup. “y-yes?”

grinning, you grabbed the box and began to open it. taesan leaned forward and placed his hand on top of the box. “before you open it, can you promise me one thing?”

you looked at him, blinking in confusion. “what’s up?”

“you won’t hate me after?” taesan hated how desparate that came out.

you just laughed and grabbed his hand. wow, yours were so warm.

“taesan, i could never hate you—unless this box was holding my mom’s head in it. sorry, that was morbid.” it was your turn to nervously laugh. but, for whatever reason, it let taesan relax a little.

when you opened the box, a soft gasp left you. you pulled out the ippodo kanza matcha and the matcha bowl taesan crafted for you in a pottery class he took. you placed them on the counter as taesan watched in anticipation. you took out the spotify code tag that taesan had bought from etsy. then, the small jar full of folded up papers followed. finally, you found the letter sitting at the bottom.

taesan was itching, his breathing becoming uneven. he stood up, startling you, and sat at the dining table. you looked at him confused.

“sorry, i don’t think i can be next to you when you read that,” taesan laughed oddly.

you snorted and opened the letter. he couldn’t watch you read it. he fiddled with his fingers, letting himself pick out the details on the textured walls of your apartment.

he couldn’t bear thinking of what you’d think of his letter. it contained everything. how he really treasured your friendship. how he treasured you.

how he loved how particular you were about your matcha. how he loved your studying quirk of eating ramen twice. how he loved riding bikes at night with you. how he loved your dj music even though he hates edm.

how you changed his college experience. how engineering, though it was still hard, became bearable after meeting you. how you made this semester the happiest semester of his life. how your smiles became his encouragement. how your laugh was best kind of music life had to offer. how warm your presence was even during the coldest days. how he wanted to be that person for you.

how he wanted to be the guy that makes the matcha that makes you hum in happiness. how he wanted to be the one making you your second and third ramen on a particularly rough study night. how he wanted to keep being the only person you sent your new mixes to. how he wanted to be yours if you’d have him.

it was cheesy, taesan knows. but, it was his feelings. the feelings that he tried to eat and forget about.

when he heard sniffling, he glanced up at you. tears had welled up in your eyes, a few droplets making their way onto the letter. you lifted your head, trying to will the tears back into your tear ducts. your reaction had taesan nervous. were these good tears? were these goodbye tears? did he ruin everything? did he—

“come over here, stupid.” you glared at him. taesan hesitantly returned to his spot on the couch. you pulled out your phone and tapped away before giving him your phone. he gingerly took it.

my bf 🥰

oh… you were dating someone else… that’s embarrassing. taesan should’ve known. were there signs he ignored? was he that blind? this was—

as if you read his mind, you leaned over and opened your text messages with your boyfriend. it felt wrong looking at them. but, taesan couldn’t help but peak at them.

oh. oh! taesan’s head whipped up and stared at you with his mouth open. these were the texts between you two.

“yes, you big, slow dummy. i would love for you to be mine because i’ve been yours since forever.”

so, yes. taesan did catch a break. he caught the biggest break of his life. you.

bonus moment!

“do you have the lecture notes from today?” you asked, drinking the lukewarm soup. taesan rubbed the back of his neck, nervously laughing. “i… i couldn’t pay attention.” you lifted your eyebrow. “you couldn’t pay attention?” “i was worried about you,” he murmured, looking away from you. he heard soft rumbles and peaked over when they became full-on laughs. you hid your face in your hands before looking at him with the same brilliant smile he became infatuated with. “i guess we’ll have to rewatch the lecture together.”

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too! you may now leave requests (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

tagged; @onedoornet @en-dream @heeheesang @prettyange1 @bee-the-loser @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou @pumpkg

#onedoornet #taesan x reader #han taesan #taesan fluff #boynextdoor #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor x reader #bnd imagines #bnd scenarios #bnd x reader #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: writes #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: one shot #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: 𝓪𝓷𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼

609 notes · View notes

kathaelipwse · 3 months ago

Text

Sunlight on a Rainy Day | | Xu Minghao

Pairing: Xu Minghao (The8) × Reader

600+ followers special!! (thank you <3) Request's are open!!

Synopsis: From the moment you met Xu Minghao, he was cold, distant, and unreadable—a puzzle you were determined to solve. Through years of silent stares, stolen glances, and lingering touches, your persistence chipped away at his walls. But when cruel rumors put you at the center of campus gossip, will he finally admit the truth he's been denying for years?

Author’s Note: This story is a love letter to slow-burn romances—the kind that build over time, filled with unspoken words, longing stares, and quiet acts of love. Minghao is the definition of “actions speak louder than words,” and I wanted to capture the beauty of two people who understand each other without needing constant reassurances. If you love pining, emotional tension, and protective Hao, this one’s for you! 💙

-- Flashback (1st - 3rd year of university) The lecture hall, a breeding ground for fresh-faced naivety and the stale scent of textbooks, held no charm for you. Your gaze, however, was magnetically drawn to the back row, to the figure of Minghao. He sat like a stone gargoyle, his presence a dark stain against the sterile, white wall. His expression was a blank slate, his eyes fixed on the professor, but his mind clearly miles away.

Minghao was a walking enigma, a puzzle wrapped in barbed wire. From the moment you saw him at orientation, his silence had been a challenge, a dare. He was the one who never spoke, never participated, never even bothered to look at anyone. He was a ghost, a shadow, a goddamn phantom in a room full of living, breathing people.

And yet, you, the self-proclaimed beacon of sunshine, were inexplicably obsessed. There was a darkness to his quiet, a simmering rage that intrigued you, a challenge you couldn't resist. Maybe it was the way his dark hair, a curtain of night, framed his sharp, almost cruel features. Or maybe it was the way his eyes, when they did meet yours, held a coldness that made you shiver.

"He's…intimidating," Sarah muttered, nudging your arm, her eyes darting towards Minghao.

"Intriguing," you corrected, a smirk playing on your lips. "He just needs a friend."

Sarah rolled her eyes, a familiar exasperation in her tone. "You're delusional. He clearly wants to be left the hell alone. Some people are just assholes."

But you couldn't shake the feeling that his silence was a fortress, a wall built to keep the world out. You were determined to breach those walls, to drag him kicking and screaming into the light.

The first few weeks were a masterclass in Minghao's talent for being a complete and utter prick. He'd vanish the moment lectures ended, disappear from the library like a wisp of smoke, and ignore your cheerful greetings like you were a goddamn fly buzzing in his ear.

"Minghao! Hey!" you'd call out, your voice echoing in the empty hallways.

He'd simply walk on, his shoulders rigid, his pace unwavering, like you didn't even exist.

"He's not going to talk to you," Sarah warned, her voice laced with a mixture of pity and annoyance. "You're wasting your damn time. Just give it up, you're making a fool of yourself."

But you were stubborn. You started leaving notes on his desk, little scraps of paper with stupid, cheerful messages. You'd bring him coffee, leaving it on his usual spot with a childish drawing of a sun on the lid.

He never acknowledged them. Never a thank you, never a glance, not even a flicker of recognition. But you persisted, fueled by a stubborn belief that you could crack his icy exterior.

One afternoon, you found him in the library, his brow furrowed, his eyes scanning a textbook that looked like it could induce a headache. He looked like he was battling a demon. You approached him, your heart pounding a steady rhythm against your ribs.

"Hey, Minghao," you said, sliding into the seat opposite him, your voice soft. "Need help deciphering that ancient scroll?"

He looked up, his eyes dark and guarded. "No."

"Are you sure? It looks like it's written in some dead language."

"I can manage," he said, his voice flat, devoid of any warmth.

"Okay," you said, refusing to be discouraged. "But if you change your mind, I'm here. I'm fluent in 'things that make people want to scream'."

You stayed, pulling out your own books and pretending to study, but your gaze kept drifting towards him. You observed the way his fingers gripped the pages, the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his dark eyes flickered with a hidden intensity.

After what felt like an eternity, he sighed, a sound so faint it was almost lost in the quiet hum of the library. "What the hell do you want?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, a hint of weariness in his tone.

"Just to be friends," you said, your smile widening, a genuine warmth spreading through you. "Is that so hard to believe?"

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to decipher your sincerity. "Yes," he said finally, his voice laced with a hint of bitterness. "For someone like me, it's impossible."

"Why?" you asked, your curiosity piqued, your voice soft.

He hesitated, his gaze shifting away, as if looking into a distant memory. "It doesn't fucking matter."

"It matters to me," you said, leaning forward, your voice earnest. "Everyone needs friends, Minghao. Even you, you miserable bastard."

He scoffed, a bitter sound that echoed in the quiet space. "You don't know shit about me."

"Then let me get to know you," you said, your voice soft, your eyes pleading. "Let me show you that not everyone is going to screw you over."

His eyes flickered, a flicker of something you couldn't quite name. "Why are you so goddamn persistent?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. "Why won't you just leave me fucking alone?"

"Because," you said, your smile unwavering, your voice filled with a quiet conviction, "I believe in you. Even if you don't believe in yourself, you prick."

He looked at you, his expression unreadable, a mask of indifference. Then, he closed his book, the sound echoing in the quiet library. "You're wasting your goddamn time," he said, his voice cold, devoid of emotion. "I don't need your belief, or your stupid friendship."

He stood up and walked away, leaving you sitting there, your smile fading slightly, but your resolve hardening. Even as you watched him disappear into the labyrinth of bookshelves, you knew you wouldn't give up. Something in his eyes, a flicker of pain, a hint of vulnerability, told you that he needed someone. And you, with your unwavering optimism, were determined to be that someone, even if he was a royal pain in the ass.

The next day, you found him sitting alone in the courtyard, his headphones on, his eyes fixed on the ground, lost in his own world. You approached him, your heart pounding a steady rhythm.

"Hey," you said, tapping him gently on the shoulder.

He looked up, his expression guarded, a silent question in his eyes. He pulled off his headphones, the music fading into the background.

"I brought you a sandwich," you said, holding out a paper bag, a small offering. "I figured you might have skipped lunch again, you grumpy bastard."

He hesitated, then took the bag, his fingers brushing yours. The touch was fleeting, a mere graze, but it sent a strange warmth through your veins.

"Thanks," he said, his voice barely audible, a hint of surprise in his tone.

"You're welcome," you said, your smile returning, a genuine warmth spreading through you. "I'm going to sit here, okay? You look like you could use some company, even if you’re a complete and utter jerk."

He didn't reply, but he didn't tell you to leave either. And so, you sat beside him, the silence stretching between you, a quiet understanding settling in. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but a shared space, a silent acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to break down his walls, one small act of defiance at a time.

The courtyard became our unofficial meeting ground. Not by any explicit agreement, but by the quiet understanding that Minghao, despite his gruff exterior, didn't actively push you away when you found him there. He’d still wear his headphones, his eyes distant, but the tension that usually radiated off him seemed to lessen, just a fraction. It was progress, however small.

You’d bring him small things – a bottle of iced tea on a hot day, a packet of his favorite crackers, a worn paperback you thought he might like. He’d accept them with a curt nod, a quiet “thanks,” his voice still rough around the edges. But the lack of outright rejection felt like a victory.

One afternoon, a light drizzle started to fall, the gray sky mirroring Minghao’s usual mood. You’d brought him a thermos of hot chocolate, hoping to offer a small comfort against the chill. He was sitting under a large oak tree, the leaves providing a meager shelter from the rain.

“Hey,” you said, sliding down next to him, the damp grass seeping into your jeans. “Brought you something warm.”

He glanced at the thermos, then back at the rain. “I don’t need it.”

“Humor me,” you said, unscrewing the lid and handing it to him. ��It’s got extra marshmallows.”

He hesitated, then took a sip, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s…not bad.”

“See?” you said, a triumphant grin spreading across your face. “I know things.”

He rolled his eyes, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. It was gone in an instant, but you’d seen it, a brief crack in his carefully constructed ice wall.

“Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

“Because,” you said, your voice soft, “I don’t think you want to be alone.”

He scoffed. “You don’t know what I want.”

“Maybe not,” you said, “but I know what I see. And I see someone who’s hurting. Someone who’s built walls so high, they can’t see the sunlight anymore.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” you asked, your voice gentle. “Because I see someone who’s afraid to let anyone in. Afraid of getting hurt again.”

He flinched, a subtle reaction, but enough to confirm your suspicions. “Shut up,” he said, his voice laced with a raw anger.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Minghao,” you said, reaching out a hand, then pulling it back, respecting his space. “I’m trying to help.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the rain-soaked ground. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy.

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to tell me anything. But sometimes, just talking about it helps.”

He finally looked at you, his eyes dark and haunted. “Talking doesn’t change anything.”

“Maybe not,” you said, “but it can make it feel a little lighter. Like you’re not carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

He took another sip of the hot chocolate, his gaze still fixed on yours. “Why do you care so much?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“Because,” you said, your voice honest, “I think you’re worth caring about. Even if you don’t think so yourself.”

He looked away again, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. The rain continued to fall, a soft, persistent rhythm against the leaves.

The next few weeks were a slow, almost imperceptible shift. He still kept his distance, still remained guarded, but the edge of his hostility seemed to soften. He’d occasionally offer a small, almost reluctant smile, or a brief, almost mumbled comment.

One day, you found him in the library, not buried in a textbook, but staring out the window, his expression pensive.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, sliding into the seat next to him.

He hesitated, then turned to you, his eyes searching yours. “Nothing.”

“Come on,” you said, nudging his arm playfully. “Everyone thinks about something.”

He sighed, a sound heavy with unspoken words. “Just…things.”

“What kind of things?” you asked, your voice gentle.

He hesitated again, then looked out the window. “Things I can’t change.”

“Sometimes,” you said, “just accepting that you can’t change them is the first step.”

He turned to you, his eyes filled with a raw vulnerability that made your heart ache. “You don’t understand.”

“Maybe not,” you said, “but I’m trying.”

He looked away, a flicker of something like gratitude in his eyes. “Thanks,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

It was a small word, a simple acknowledgement, but it felt like a monumental victory. You’d managed to crack the ice, just a little. And in that small crack, you saw a glimpse of the person he kept hidden beneath the walls, a person who was hurting, but also capable of feeling, of caring. And you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your bones, that you wouldn’t stop until you’d brought him into the light.

The library became a sanctuary, a place where the shared silence between you and Minghao wasn't heavy or strained, but almost comfortable. He’d still come to study, but now, he wouldn’t immediately recoil when you joined him. Sometimes, he’d even acknowledge your presence with a small nod, a subtle shift in his posture.

You’d bring snacks, sometimes his favorite, sometimes something new, and he’d eat them, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. You’d talk, sometimes about your classes, sometimes about the books you were reading, sometimes about the people you’d met. He’d listen, his gaze fixed on his books, but you could tell he was paying attention.

One evening, you were both studying late, the library almost empty, the only sound the soft rustling of pages and the gentle hum of the overhead lights. You were reading a particularly moving passage from a novel, and you couldn’t help but share it with him.

“Listen to this,” you said, reading aloud. “'Sometimes, the people who are hardest to love need it the most.' It’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?”

Minghao looked up from his book, his eyes meeting yours. There was a flicker of something in his gaze, a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

“It’s stupid,” he said, his voice rough.

“No, it’s not,” you said, your voice gentle. “It’s about understanding. About not giving up on people, even when they push you away.”

He looked away, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe not,” you said, “but I know that everyone deserves a chance. Everyone deserves to be loved.”

He scoffed, a bitter sound. “Love is a lie.”

“No, it’s not,” you said, your voice firm. “It can be painful, it can be messy, even brutal at times, but it’s not a lie. It’s real.”

He turned to you, his eyes filled with a raw intensity. “You’re so naive.”

“I’d rather be naive and hopeful than cynical and bitter.” you said

He looked away, the silence stretching between you, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was a shared space, a quiet understanding.

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to believe in love. But you have to believe in yourself. You have to believe that you’re worth something.”

He didn’t respond, but you saw a flicker of something in his eyes, a flicker of doubt, a flicker of hope.

The next day, you found a small note on your desk in the library. It was a scrap of paper torn from a notebook, with a single line written in Minghao’s neat, precise handwriting.

“Thanks.”

It was a small gesture, a simple word, but it felt like a monumental victory. He’d acknowledged you, he’d expressed gratitude, he’d reached out, in his own small, guarded way.

The weeks that followed were a gradual, almost imperceptible shift. Minghao started to open up, just a little. He’d share small details about his life, his family, his interests. He’d even crack a small, almost reluctant smile, or offer a brief, almost mumbled comment.

One afternoon, you were walking back from class together, the sun setting, casting long shadows across the campus.

“So,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence, “what do you do for fun?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “I read. Sometimes I listen to music.”

“What kind of music?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

He hesitated again, then looked away. “I don’t know. Just…stuff.”

“Come on,” you said, nudging his arm playfully. “Everyone has a favorite band, or a favorite song.”

He sighed, then looked at you, a flicker of something in his eyes. “I like…hip-hop.”

“Really?” you said, your eyes widening in surprise. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

He shrugged. “What do you like?”

“Everything,” you said, your smile widening. “But I especially love indie music.”

He looked at you, a flicker of something like curiosity in his eyes. “Maybe…maybe you could show me some.”

“Really?” you said, your heart leaping with excitement. “I’d love to.”

It was a small invitation, a simple suggestion, but it felt like a huge step forward. Minghao was letting you in, just a little. He was allowing himself to be vulnerable, to share a part of himself with you.

And you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your bones, that you wouldn’t stop until you’d helped him find his voice, until you’d helped him see the light that had been hidden within him all along.

The music became a bridge, a shared language that transcended Minghao’s usual reserve. You introduced him to your favorite indie bands, their melodies weaving stories of vulnerability, hope, and resilience. He, in turn, shared his love for hip-hop, its raw energy and rhythmic poetry resonating with a part of him he’d kept hidden.

You'd spend hours in your dorm room, or sometimes in the quiet corners of the campus, sharing playlists, discussing lyrics, and debating the merits of different artists. Minghao, surprisingly, had strong opinions, his voice passionate and animated when he talked about music. It was a side of him you hadn't seen before, a side that was vibrant and alive.

One evening, you were playing a particularly upbeat indie track, its catchy melody filling the room. Minghao, who was usually content to just listen, started tapping his foot, a subtle rhythm that gradually grew more pronounced.

"You like this one?" you asked, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

He hesitated, then nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's…not bad."

"Not bad?" you teased. "Come on, hao, admit it. You're secretly enjoying yourself."

He rolled his eyes, but the smile remained cause of the nickname specifically. "Maybe a little."

"Good," you said, turning up the volume. "Let's dance."

He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. "Dance?"

"Yeah," you said, standing up and swaying to the music. "Come on, it's fun."

He hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't dance."

"Everyone dances," you said, pulling him to his feet. "You just haven't found the right music yet."

He stood there, stiff and awkward, as you started to move to the music. You laughed, your joy infectious, and slowly, tentatively, he started to move too. At first, it was just a sway, a slight bobbing of his head, but gradually, he loosened up, his movements becoming more confident, more fluid.

You danced together, lost in the rhythm, the music filling the space between you. Hao, the silent observer, the stoic recluse, was dancing, his eyes bright, his smile genuine. It was a sight that made your heart swell with happiness.

As the song ended, you both stood there, breathless and laughing, the shared joy creating a bond that went beyond words.

"See?" you said, your voice filled with triumph. "I told you everyone dances."

He chuckled, a sound that was still rare, but becoming more frequent. "Yeah, I guess you were right."

"I'm always right," you said, nudging his arm playfully.

He rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat.

The music nights became a regular occurrence, a ritual that brought you closer together. You'd share your favorite songs, your favorite artists, your favorite stories, and with each shared melody, the walls around hao seemed to crumble a little more.

One night, you were listening to a particularly poignant song, its lyrics about finding hope in the darkest of times. hao was unusually quiet, his eyes fixed on the lyrics on the screen.

"This song," he said, his voice low, "it reminds me of you."

You turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Me?"

"Yeah," he said, his gaze meeting yours. "You're like…a ray of light in the dark."

His words, simple and honest, were a revelation. Hao, the man of few words, had expressed his feelings, not with grand gestures or flowery language, but with a sincerity that resonated deep within you.

In that moment, you knew that your persistence, your unwavering belief in him, had paid off. You'd broken through his walls, you'd found the light within him, and in doing so, you'd found a connection that was both profound and precious.

That's how you and him ended up as best friends in the 4th year of uni.

Four years. Four years of shared notes, quiet evenings, and a bond that had become the very air you breathed. You loved Hao, a love that burned with a fierce, unwavering intensity, a stark contrast to the lingering shadows he still fought within himself. You’d confessed your feelings, laid your heart bare, but he'd retreated, his walls rising like a fortress, built of fear and the ghosts of past betrayals.

“We’re friends,” he'd said, his voice flat, his eyes unable to meet yours. “Just friends.”

The word echoed in your heart, a dull, persistent ache that you tried to ignore. You told yourself you were content, that being near him was enough. You were the sun, and he was the moon, and you’d learned to accept the one-sided dance, the silent orbit.

Then, the whispers started. Jaehyun, a guy with a swagger as loud as his insecurity, decided to stake his claim. He confessed, his tone laced with a cocky arrogance that grated on your nerves. “You’re wasting your time with that ice prince,” he’d said, his eyes raking over you with a possessive gaze. “I can give you what you want.”

You politely declined, your heart already spoken for. “You're not my type,” you’d said, “I like someone else.”

That was your mistake. Honesty, in the hands of those who relished gossip, became a weapon. The rumors started as whispers, then grew into a venomous storm. “She thinks she’s a queen,” Jaehyun sneered, his pride wounded. “Look at her, she’s not even that pretty, she's more like a bloated cow trying to look attractive.”

The comments escalated, each one a cruel twist of the knife. “She’s gained weight, hasn’t she? Like a pig,” someone would whisper, their eyes lingering on your figure with cruel amusement. “She used to be so bubbly, now she’s just…a sad, pathetic mess, desperate for his attention." Others added fuel to the fire, "She's so clingy, no wonder he doesn’t want her. She's a fat, pathetic loser, and he knows it."

The “sunshine” that had been your hallmark began to dim. The laughter became forced, the smiles strained. You tried to explain, to defend yourself, but your words only seemed to validate their cruel assumptions. “She’s just making excuses,” they’d say, their eyes filled with a pity that cut deeper than any insult.

Hao, typically indifferent to the university's gossip mill, usually brushed off any rumors. He never cared what people said. But when it came to you, his indifference shattered, replaced by a cold, simmering rage.

One morning, as you were walking to class, a particularly vile comment, a cruel jab at your weight and your supposed desperation, sent a wave of shame crashing over you. “Look at her,” Jaehyun sneered, loud enough for you to hear. “She’s like a beached whale, pathetic and desperate. No wonder Minghao won't touch her."

You flinched, your eyes stinging with tears, your hands trembling. Before you could react, a thunderous sound echoed through the hallway. Hao had slammed Jaehyun’s head against the desk, the impact sending a shockwave through the room. His eyes, usually dark and guarded, blazed with a cold fury that made your blood run cold.

“Apologize,” he demanded, his voice a low, menacing rumble that made Jaehyun’s eyes widen in terror. The air crackled with a silent threat, a promise of violence that made everyone around them hold their breath.

Panic seized you. “Minghao, no!” you panicked, your voice trembling. “It’s okay, I’m fine. Please, just leave it. I am sorry-” You apologized to Jaehyun, your voice shaking, a desperate attempt to defuse the situation.

Confusion flickered across Hao’s face, quickly replaced by a raw, unadulterated rage. “Why are you apologizing?” he asked, his voice sharp and dangerous, each word a venomous barb. “He’s the one who insulted you, dummy”

Jaehyun, his face pale with terror, stammered an apology, desperate to escape Hao’s wrath. The silent threat in Hao's eyes promised a brutal retribution if he ever dared to speak ill of you again. And just like that, the rumors began to fade, their venom losing its sting in the face of Hao’s silent rage. He had become your protector, a silent guardian who made it clear that no one dared to speak ill of you.

He started leaving your favorite snacks on your desk, small gestures of care that spoke volumes. He’d sit with you in the library, his presence a silent comfort, but you barely responded. The cruel words had burrowed deep into your soul, leaving you hollow and numb.

Two weeks passed, a blur of silent meals and strained smiles. Hao, usually so composed, was visibly restless. His gaze constantly searched yours, his brow furrowed with worry, his hands clenched and unclenching at his sides. He couldn’t ignore the change, the way the light had faded from your eyes, the way your laughter had become a distant echo.

He found you on the university's rooftop, the wind a mournful sigh against the city's twinkling lights even in the early morning sky. You were curled into yourself, a fragile silhouette against the vast expanse of the early mornings of the winters. He stood there, his hands clenched into fists, his heart a thunderous drumbeat against his ribs.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, each word a raw, unfiltered expression of his anguish. “I can’t watch you wither like this, to see your light dim, to see the joy drain from your eyes.”

He closed the distance between you, his movements deliberate, as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence. He reached out, his touch feather-light as he cupped your face in his hands.

“The rumors,” you whispered, your voice trembling, a fragile echo of the vibrant laughter that had once filled the hallways. “They…they made me hate my own body. I don’t recognize myself anymore. I feel… broken.” you admitted.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a raw intensity, a fierce protectiveness that made his every muscle tense. “Don’t,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous demand. “Don’t you dare speak of yourself like that. Those words, those vile, venomous lies, they mean nothing. They are the desperate cries of small, insignificant people, trying to tear down something they could never possess.”

He pulled you into his arms, his embrace fierce and protective, a fortress against the storm of insecurities that raged within you. “You are beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Inside and out. You are my strength, you are resilience, you are the most incredible person I have ever known.”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, his gaze filled with an unwavering tenderness. “You are the sun, the moon, the stars,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You are the very air I breathe. And I… I love you. More than words can ever express. More than I ever thought possible.”

He kissed your forehead, a soft, reverent touch, a silent promise of unwavering devotion. “I love the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, the way your voice softens when you speak of things you love, the way you face the world with such courage, even when it tries to break you.”

He took your hands in his, his touch gentle but firm. “I love every part of you,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. “Every curve, every line, every scar, every imperfection. They are all a part of you, a testament to your journey, and they are all beautiful.”

You leaned into his embrace, tears streaming down your face, a mixture of relief and overwhelming emotion. “I love you too, Hao,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.

He held you close, his hand gently stroking your hair. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice filled with a raw regret. “I should have told you sooner. I was afraid, afraid of losing you. But I was wrong. I almost lost you anyway.”

“It’s okay,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest. “You’re here now.”

He kissed your head again, a soft, lingering touch. “I’m never leaving,” he whispered, his voice a promise etched in the very air you breathed.

For the first time in weeks, months honestly, a genuine smile bloomed on your face, a radiant light that chased away the shadows.

Weeks turned into months, and you and Hao became an unbreakable fortress, a silent declaration of love and protection. No one dared to utter a cruel word in your presence, for Hao, the unyielding guardian, made sure they regretted it. He would never let anyone hurt you again, not while he drew breath, and his wrath was a force that no one dared to test.

Seven years. Seven years since the echoes of cruel words faded, since the rooftop confession, since the day Hao became your unwavering fortress. Seven years since you began building a sanctuary, a life together, brick by brick.

It was decided, Breakfast cooked by you and dinner by him though mostly he cooked everything.

Sunlight poured into your shared apartment, highlighting the warmth of your home – the shelves overflowing with books, the walls adorned with Hao's stunning artwork, and the ever-growing collection of plants you both lovingly nurtured. Hao stood at the kitchen island, his dark hair a touch longer, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he flipped pancakes.

“Breakfast, my queen,” he announced, his voice a low, smooth baritone, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Pancakes, with berries, just the way you like them.”

“My queen?” you teased, leaning against the doorframe, your eyes tracing the lines of his broad shoulders beneath his shirt. “Is that your new nickname for me?”

He turned, his gaze sweeping over you with an appreciative intensity that made your cheeks flush. “Only when you look this good in the morning,” he purred, his voice a low rumble. “Which, let’s be honest, is always.”

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Shameless,” you muttered, but the warmth spreading through you betrayed your amusement.

“Absolutely,” he agreed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But only for you.”

The years had been kind, softening the sharp edges of his youth, replacing them with a quiet confidence and a playful charm. The scars, both visible and invisible, had faded, becoming a testament to your shared strength. Hao’s protective nature, though tempered by time, remained a constant, a silent promise of unwavering devotion.

“Remember Jaehyun?” you asked, sliding onto a stool at the counter, a playful glint in your eyes. “He tried to apologize at our graduation. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.”

Hao’s gaze darkened slightly, a flicker of the old protectiveness surfacing, but quickly replaced by a playful smirk. “He should have,” he said, his voice a low growl. “He learned a valuable lesson: don’t mess with what’s mine.”

He leaned closer, placing a plate of pancakes in front of you, his hand lingering on your arm. “Though, I’m still surprised he had the audacity to approach you at all,” he murmured, his eyes tracing the curve of your smile. “After all, you’re quite… captivating.”

“Captivating?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, your voice laced with playful skepticism. “Is that your way of saying I’m intimidating?”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Intimidatingly beautiful,” he corrected, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “And you know it.”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You have this way of looking at me,” he whispered, his voice a low murmur, “like you see right through me, like you know all my secrets. And it’s… intoxicating.”

He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “And those curves,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips, then back to your eyes, a possessive gleam in them. “They’re a masterpiece. Every single one.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, a feather-light touch that quickly deepened into a passionate kiss. “I love you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice a soft sigh, your heart overflowing with warmth.

It was a simple declaration, a quiet affirmation of the love that had built a home. They had built a life filled with laughter, whispered secrets, and stolen kisses, a future where love was not a battleground, but a haven, a place where they could finally, truly, be themselves, flaws and all. And in the quiet strength of their bond, they found not just love, but a forever.

330 notes · View notes

thedensworld · 1 year ago

Text

I Can Fight | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear revealing clothes. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't mind.

Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰

It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.

Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.

"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.

As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?

Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.

As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.

With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.

"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.

"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.

You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.

Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.

Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."

You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."

"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.

You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."

Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."

A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.

Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.

"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.

Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.

As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.

"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.

You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."

Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."

A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"

Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."

Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.

"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.

A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.

He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.

His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.

***

You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.

As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.

"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."

Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.

As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.

"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.

A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.

You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.

"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.

You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.

Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.

1K notes · View notes

v6quewrlds · 8 months ago

Text

❝ sky full of stars, j. burrow. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: joe's a big space nerd. you're a big space nerd. it's a match made in space nerd heaven.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: literally laid awake last night thinking about this. decided to write it during my lecture. short and sweet but i love writing joe in love. suppressing the urge to cite my sources on this lol. ty to wikipedia's black holes article <3 also don't worry y'all will still get a game day fic on sunday 🙂‍↕️

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: science talk, general cheesiness.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x nasa engineer!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 1k.

Your eyes scanned the living room, your gaze lingering on the framed LSU jersey hanging on the wall. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you thought of Joe's insistence on displaying his pride so prominently in his Cincinnati home. Despite his celebrity status, he remained as down-to-earth as the day the two of you met eight months ago, a quality you cherished deeply.

The gentle hum of the air conditioner filled the quiet room as the documentary's narrator droned on about black holes. Joe's breathing grew even and steady, his head comfortably nestled in your lap. You felt his hand twitch in his half-sleep, his thumb brushing against your thigh through the fabric of your shorts. You gently stroked his hair, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Your thoughts drifted to the upcoming mission you were helping to prepare at the Johnson Space Center. The excitement of possibly making more discoveries on your Mars probe was palpable, and you couldn't wait to get back to Houston. Yet, here you were, feeling more content than ever, with a man you never thought you’d end up with. The rhythmic beat of Joe's heart against your palm was a reminder of the love the two of you had found amidst your two dramatically different lives.

You leaned back, your hand still cradling Joe's head, and refocused on the documentary. The TV screen flickered with images of stars, galaxies, and cosmic phenomena that you knew so well from your work, yet seeing them here, in Joe's home, made them feel so much more profound.

“So, how do black holes, like, eat stars?” Joe’s sleepy voice interrupted the silence. His eyes remained closed, but his mind was clearly still processing the information he had been hearing.

“It’s not so much that they eat stars, but rather they have such intense gravitational pull that nothing can escape them, not even light,” You explained, your voice a soothing murmur. You felt Joe’s head shift slightly, his curiosity piqued.

“So, it’s like a cosmic vacuum cleaner?” He mumbled, a hint of a smile in his voice.

You laughed, the sound echoing lightly in the room. “In a way, yes. But a vacuum cleaner you definitely don’t want to get too close to. Once something enters a black hole, it’s gone forever.”

Joe’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at you, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile. “How can something be that powerful?” His gaze was earnest, the curiosity in his eyes warming your heart.

“It’s all about the mass and gravity. When a star dies and collapses, it can become so dense that its gravity is just too much for anything to resist. Not even light can escape, which is why we call them black holes. They’re like the universe’s trapdoor.” Your voice was soft, your eyes shining with the same enthusiasm that had captured Joe’s attention when you’d first described your job to him.

Joe nodded, his eyes drifting back to the TV screen. His fingers twined with yours, and you felt a gentle squeeze. “And what happens when something does fall in?” His question was genuine, his curiosity a bridge between your worlds.

“Well, we think that anything that gets too close gets stretched out like spaghetti. But before that, it passes the point of no return, gravity gets so intense that it bends time and space itself. It’s like nothing we can truly imagine.” Your words painted a vivid picture in the quiet room, your voice a mix of wonder and knowledge.

“You’re like nothing I could truly imagine. You’re like my own black hole, pulling me in with your brilliance every day.” Joe’s words were a gentle whisper, his blue eyes opening to find yours, a warmth that didn’t quite match the cosmic chaos on the screen.

Your heart fluttered. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Heisman.” You leaned down to kiss his forehead, your smile tender. The room felt smaller, the universe’s mysteries forgotten as the two of your shared a moment of quiet intimacy.

The documentary played on, but your attention had shifted. Joe’s hand found yours again, fingers interlocking. He pulled himself up, dirty blonde hair messy from rest, eyes squinting in the light. “You know I’m going to keep asking questions until I understand everything you do, right?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Joey. You know I love talking about this stuff with you.” Your voice was filled with affection as you reached for the remote and paused the documentary. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, the only light source in the otherwise darkened space.

Joe sat up, his hand still holding yours. He leaned in, your eyes locking for a brief moment before your lips met in a gentle kiss that grew in passion. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as you shifted on the couch to face him. Your kisses grew deeper, a silent declaration of your love and appreciation for one another’s differences and shared moments of wonder.

As you pulled apart, Joe whispered, “You know, I still can’t believe you agreed to go out with me. A guy who throws a football for a living asking out a NASA engineer.” His self-deprecation made you laugh again, the sound music to his ears. “Still not sure why you’re with me.”

“Why not?” you said, your voice filled with warmth. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, Joe. And you’re incredibly good at what you do. Maybe not launching rockets, but you have your own kind of rocket science going on out there on the field.”

Joe chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours. “You always know what to say to boost my ego.”

“I’ll say whatever it takes to get me ahead of Ja’Marr in your heart,” you teased with a laugh, leaning forward to steal another kiss from his pink lips. The warmth of his breath tickled your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

Joe’s arms tightened around you, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “I don’t know, he’s pretty good at catching my throws.”

“Well, I’m pretty good at catching your heart, so I think we’re even,” you quipped back, your eyes sparkling with love and amusement.

Joe’s chuckle grew louder, the sound rumbling through the room like thunder. He leaned back, pulling you with him until you were lying on top of him, your legs draped over his. “You definitely win that title, babe. No contest.”

Your smile never left your face as you looked down at him. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. You felt his heartbeat beneath you, a steady drum that matched the rhythm of your own. The air between the two of you was electric, the kind of charge that could spark a star into existence.

#&. joey b.#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #bengals #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fan fic #black!fem!reader #black!oc #black!reader #x black fem reader #x black reader

430 notes · View notes

annoyamii · 24 days ago

Text

Maybe in another universe where what we believe in wouldn't cause our downfall.

I FORGOT TUMBLR EXISTED MB YALL💔💔💔

Ok for this to make sense, this is an au I'm making called: 'Recluse Turned Saviour'. I think the title is self-explanatory BUTT lemme tell you because I love to yap and I probably ruin some friend's day with this au lmfao.

Sage found a journal at the peak of truth, alongside some books. He was about to read it until Recluse snatched it from him.

He got kinda pissed but he was so intrigued by the book that he secretly took it back into his home and read it. But unfortunately what that journal contains are the unbearable truths that the Recluse hid for millenniums.

He kinda went mad, but being someone who preaches the truth, why should this be hidden? So he began to teach those truths in his lectures. But unfortunately, the people couldn't handle those truths.

Recluse finds out about this and rushes into the town square, seeing the Sage teaching what he's been hiding, and the common folks look uneasy. So he stepped in with a little lie to ease them. They believed him, because it's much more comforting to believe in a sweet lie rather than the harsh truth, right?

This went on for SO long that Sage went FULLY INSANE, he is doing what he's supposed to do, spreading the truth to the public, but why are they believing at the Recluse whose words are filled with deceit. So one day, he snapped.

He became corrupted, Sage kinda became Shadow Milk. He started attacking the common folks and once again, Recluse steps in to save them. They battle, Recluse is having a hard time but he finds an opportunity by snatching Sage's soul jam—weakening him just enough for him to use his powers to immobilise him.

He just wanted to talk but suddenly chains surrounded the Sage, the witches are capturing him.

And then, the Sage is gone. Problem solved. He now holds the other Soul Jam. He felt really guilty, it was his journal that caused this, if he just hid it properly, this wouldn't have happened! He's still trying to recollect himself but suddenly the crowd cheered.

They're celebrating the defeat of the fallen scholar, they are celebrating the Hermit that resides at the Peak of Truth. They are celebrating his victory against the Sage. But all he did was lie.

He is regarded as a hero, but he doesn't feel like one.

#crk fanart #alternate universe #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk fanart #shadow milk x pure vanilla #sage of truth #truthless recluse #I'm feeling devious

213 notes · View notes

gunsandspaceships · 2 months ago

Text

MCU Timeline. Avengers: Infinity War

At the dawn of the universe - nothing.

The Big Bang - formation of the six Infinity Stones.

~500 or 964/965 AD - Thor is born.

Now we have this contradiction: the first Thor movie and all the MCU books tell us he was born in 964 or 965 AD, and this is the only time he says he's 1,500 years old. He could have rounded it up, or it could have been a mistake (like his mispronunciation of "Nidavellir") - pick your favorite explanation.

Early 1945 - during a fight with Steve Rogers, the Red Skull touches the Tesseract, and the Space Stone within it finds him unworthy and sends him to Vormir to serve as a guide for those seeking the Soul Stone.

Early 1990s - Gamora is born on the planet Zen-Whoberi.

~1999 - Thanos kills half of the population of Zen-Whoberi and kidnaps little Gamora, whose parents his army had just executed.

Between the fall of 2014 and May 2018:

Nebula sneaks onto Thanos's ship and attempts to kill him. She almost succeeds, but Thanos captures her.

He takes her to a cell, accesses her memory files, where Gamora mentions that she knows where the Soul Stone is, and then proceeds to torture her.

Between November 2013 and May 2018 - Thanos arrives on Nidavellir and orders Eitri to make him the Infinity Gauntlet. Once it is made, he shuts down the forge and kills all of Nidavellir's dwarves except Eitri, whom he deprives of his hands.

Beginning of June 2016 - with the help of Rogers and Romanoff, Maximoff and Wilson escape from the Raft. Scott Lang and Clint Barton make a deal with the US and German governments to remain under house arrest instead of going into hiding.

~June 2016 - Wanda and Vision start dating.

Okay, here’s the thing about the main event date: it depends on the city. Literally. If we’re in New York, it looks like mid-May, if we’re in Atlanta or Edinburgh, I’d say March. They don’t really go together, so we’ll have to pick one. Considering other movies like Ant-Man and the Wasp and Thor: Ragnarok, our pick should be mid-May 2018.

Can we narrow this down to days? Let's try:

If the calendar here is the same as ours, which is not always the case. But let's assume that it is.

There is also a contradiction in the film regarding the day of the week (Wednesday vs. Tuesday) for the first day. Now there is no hint as to which one we should choose. But as with the month, I assume that what happens in New York is closer to the truth, so I will choose Wednesday.

In mid-May we also have two options: the second week (May 9) and the third (May 16).

So, in What If? S1E5, there's a direct mention that it's been two weeks since Hank went into the Quantum Realm in Ant-Man and the Wasp (May 2), so it must be May 16. What If often makes mistakes, and later in the same episode, it makes an obvious one, but if it works in this case, let's go with that option.

~May 2, 2018 - Vision promises Tony that he will return, turns off his transponder, and leaves with Wanda for Scotland for a two-week vacation.

~May 9, 2018 - Thanos decimates Xandar and takes the Power Stone.

May 15 (Tuesday), 2018. Night - Tony dreams that he and Pepper are having a baby, Morgan.

May 16 (Wednesday), 2018

~11 am - 12 pm in NY:

Thanos attacks the Asgardian refugee ship Statesman and seizes the Space Stone.

Hulk fights Thanos but is easily defeated. Heimdall teleports him to Earth.

The death of half of Asgard's refugees, Heimdall and Loki.

Thanos sends his Black Order to search for the two Infinity Stones on Earth.

Thor is left unconscious in outer space among dead bodies.

Hulk crashes through the roof and stairs of the Sanctum Sanctorum and transforms back into Bruce. He informs Strange and Wong of the impending threat.

Tony and Pepper are running in New York's Central Park. Tony tells Pepper about his dream and asks her for a baby.

They are interrupted by the arrival of Strange and Banner, who take Tony away to save the world.

~1 pm in NY:

Wong gives Tony a lecture about the Infinity Stones. Strange reveals the Time Stone in his necklace. Bruce informs Tony of the situation and that behind the attack on New York in 2012 was also Thanos.

1:20 pm - Bruce tells Tony to call Steve Rogers. Tony tells Bruce that the Avengers have broken up.

Before he can make the call, a Black Order Q-ship arrives above them.

Peter Parker jumps off a school bus headed to MoMA and rushes to the ship's location.

Tony, Strange, Wong and Peter fight Ebony Maw and Cull Obsidian. Hulk refuses to come out.

Wong saves Tony by sending Cull Obsidian onto a glacier. He also cuts off his hand. Tony invites him to Pepperony's wedding.

Maw captures Strange and takes him to the Q-Ship.

Peter follows outside. Tony saves him by putting the Iron Spider suit on him. He sends him home, but Peter manages to cling to the ship and get inside.

Tony gets on the ship and tells Pepper that he won't be back for a while.

Wong returns to Sanctum.

1:42 pm - Bruce calls Steve on the phone Tony dropped.

Having received a distress signal from the Statesman, the Guardians of the Galaxy pick up Thor.

~2 pm in NY:

Gamora tells him about Thanos' plan. Thor takes some of their food, Quill's backpack, a pod and goes to Nidavellir with Rocket and Groot.

The rest of the team heads to Knowhere, where the Collector keeps the Reality Stone.

~Unspecified time, afternoon in NY:

Strange wakes up on the Q-Ship, and Maw begins torturing him with needles to obtain the Time Stone.

A rescue team (Tony, Peter and Levi) gathers above them. Peter comes up with a plan from Aliens.

Minutes later - Tony kills Maw by blowing a hole in the ship.

Tony and Steven argue over a course of action and agree to bring the fight with Thanos to Titan.

Tony makes Peter an Avenger.

~6 pm in NY:

~6:30 pm (NY)/11:30 pm (Scotland) - Wanda and Vision are walking through the streets of Edinburgh when they are attacked by Corvus Glaive and Proxima Midnight of the Black Order. Vision is injured and his powers are suppressed.

6:45 pm (NY)/11:45 pm (Scotland) - they are saved by the arriving Rogues: Rogers, Romanoff and Wilson. Proxima and the injured Glaive retreat. The Rogues take Wanda and Vision back to the Compound.

~Night in NY:

In space, Gamora asks Quill to kill her if Thanos captures her, so that the Titan will not learn the location of the Soul Stone. He vows to do so. They kiss.

By this time, the "invisible" Drax has been standing "motionless" for an hour and eating snacks.

Thanos attacks Knowhere and obtains the Reality Stone from the Collector. He then sets a trap for Gamora using the stone.

May 17 (Thursday), 2018

~Before 7 am in NY:

Rocket gives Thor a cybernetic eye.

GotG arrives on Knowhere. Using the Reality Stone, Thanos easily deals with them and captures Gamora.

GotG return to Benatar, where Quill spends the next five hours sitting and listening to New York Groove.

Aboard his mothership, Thanos shows Gamora her captive sister and tortures Nebula to reveal the location of the Soul Stone.

Thanos takes Gamora with him to Vormir.

While a Chitauri is putting Nebula back together, she kills him and escapes. She sends 23 secret coded messages to GotG asking them to meet her on Titan.

Five hours after Thanos captured Gamora - GotG finally receive Nebula's secret coded messages and travel from Knowhere to Titan.

~7 am in NY/1 pm in Wakanda:

Rogues arrive at the Compound. Rhodey talks to Secretary Ross, who orders him to arrest them. Rhodes waves him off.

The Avengers discuss the situation. Vision tells them that Wanda must destroy the stone in his head. Bruce gets the idea that simply taking it out might work. They head to Wakanda to do it and call T'Challa.

Okoye gathers Wakandan warriors.

T'Challa comes for Bucky Barnes and brings him a new vibranium arm.

Thor, Groot, and Rocket reach Nidavellir and meet with Eitri.

~8 am in NY:

Q-ship carrying Tony, Peter and Strange lands on Titan.

They are immediately attacked by GotG. After a short fight due to a misunderstanding, they form an alliance against Thanos.

Strange uses the Time Stone to see 14,000,605 alternate futures and finds only one winning.

Thanos and Gamora arrive on Vormir, where they are met by the Red Skull. Thanos throws his "daughter" off a cliff for the Soul Stone.

He wakes up with the Stone in his hand.

~9-10 am in NY/3-4 pm in Wakanda:

~9:30 am/3:30 pm - the Quinjet carrying the Rogues, Rhodes, Vision, and Banner arrives in Wakanda, where they are met by T'Challa, his warriors, and Barnes.

Note: The main functional feature of quinjets is that they fly exactly as long as the plot requires, and not as long as they would fly in reality. This is not the first Avengers movie where yesterday it flew to the States all night, and today it took the jet a couple of hours to cover about twice that distance.

~10 am/4 pm - Shuri begins working on Vision and the Mind Stone. Thanos' army enters the planet's atmosphere above Wakanda.

On Nidavellir, Thor, Rocket, Groot, and Eitri restart the forge to create a new weapon, Stormbreaker.

The Battle of Titan.

The Battle of Wakanda.

Creation of the Stormbreaker on Nidavellir.

Bruce in the Hulkbuster kills Cull Obsidian, Wanda kills Proxima Midnight, Vision kills Corvus Glaive.

~10:20 am/4:20 pm - during their duel, Thanos gravely wounds Tony and prepares to kill him, but Strange gives him the Time Stone in exchange for Tony's life.

With five Stones, Thanos teleports to Wakanda. Having not met any worthy resistance for himself, Thanos takes the last Stone from Vision.

10:24 am/4:24 pm - The Snap.

Thanos meets little Gamora in the Soul Stone and then teleports to his garden world to retire in peace.

10:25 am/4:25 pm - 50% of all living beings in the Universe disappear from reality.

Nick Fury manages to send an SOS signal to Captain Marvel's pager before turning to dust.

Note: Does Marvel want to explain why Edinburgh and Atlanta look more like it's winter, while in New York it's almost summer?

Tony and Nebula are left alone on Titan.

~Later that day:

At some point, they depart for Earth on the Benatar.

The remaining Avengers return to the Compound to monitor losses.

Over the next few days:

They visit Fury's last location and find his pager, which they bring to the Compound.

Days later - Carol Danvers arrives at the Compound and soon after heads back into space to search for Tony.

MCU Timeline: The Infinity Saga

152 notes · View notes

nanaluvssevi · 3 months ago

Text

MEN AND MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

University Professor Sevika x Fem reader. ₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

Hi! this is the main story of this au. You can find the masterlist here! This story would continue, in the form of drabbles, short stories and headcanons.

I worked really hard in this so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!.

Kind of slow burn, but not really, they just take their time. No yearning or doubting

TW: Suggestive talk, talking about nudity, cursing, a little bit of angst, not too much tho, family issues, drug addiction, consumption of alcohol and weed, shotgunning, suggestive talk again, nudity, making out, they have sex. Fingering and Cunnilingus !reader receiving. Groping. Humping.

Also feet?? LOL. nothing sexual or suggestive but just fyi.

WC: 15.2K

Professor!Sevika, who could teach about every subject but wouldn't she just be so good at social studies and political science?.

Professor!Sevika, who was known for her sassy tone and remarks to make the lectures manageables but also for her impressive knowledge about what she teached.

Professor!Sevika, who didn’t tolerate any type of disrespect in her class, and when someone dared to disrespect her she would be the roughest and meanest professor in the whole building.

Professor!Sevika, who noticed you on the first day of the new semester, she didn’t know why at the moment but you just stood out from the rest.

Professor!Sevika, who despite her relatively young age for a professor she had forged a great and known career path. She had started teaching as soon as she could, and you could notice that in her expertise. Someone who had collected degrees like they were easy to get, expanding her knowledge every time she could. Knowledge and expertise you could notice only by looking at the way she moved around the lecture hall, how her low, deep and raspy voice for too many cigarettes captured the attention of every person who put a foot in her class. With the days you started noticing that special glimpse of pride that made her grey eyes sparkle when she got elbow deep on the class topic of that day.

Professor!Sevika, who doesn’t talk much about her but more about what she knows. Who is excited to help the moment she sees your name as the remittent of an email asking for papers or articles to read about the matter she talked about in that day's class.

Professor!Sevika, who always dressed similarly, a button up in darker colors, sometimes in a deep red or an eggplant color when she got tired of the most neutral ones, that usually got tighter around her bust and arms, with the first two buttons always loose and the sleeves usually rolled to mid forearm letting you see part of her tattooed right arm and the black color of her prosthetic left arm. Her eyes are always half covered with her glasses that rested in that beautiful nose. You never saw her haircut change; it was always in that sharp cut that went from short in the nape of her neck, leaving a beautiful undercut behind, to longer closer to her cheeks. Her slacks were always black or dark gray. Combat boots were her staple and even if she owned different pairs the dark purple shoelaces were present in each of them.

Professor!Sevika, who always was capable of keeping you hooked at her words, at the side smirk that covered her plump and dark colored lips while talking. How could you not put all of your attention to what she was talking about? There was an inexplicable energy that she radiated that made you want to wrap yourself around her and listen to her talk about anything for hours without an obvious end.

Professor!Sevika, who got used to paying attention to you, you intrigued her to an enigmatic level. Firstly, you weren’t close in age to the rest of her students. It wasn’t hard for her to notice your experience when reading your work, watching the way you took notes, and the attention to detail in every essay you sent. It made sense that you excelled in her course.

Secondly you weren’t hard to miss, at least in her eyes, without fail you were 5 minutes earlier than the rest, with the same coffee cup every time, consistently dressing in just a style that screamed ‘you’.

And lastly because of the amount of attention you put on everything she says, sevika was used to capture everyone's attention but yours just felt… different.

₊⟡.

Professor!Sevika, who was the strictest professor you had encountered in university. It wasn’t hard to imagine how hard she could be as an outsider, after all what she wanted was the best for her students, she wanted to make them excel, she was not going to permit unfit people to pass her course.

For the same reason professor!Sevika normally wasn’t kind to the idea of befriending or being close to her students. A self imposed rule of just keeping all of her relationship with students strictly professional. She knew people would tend to get close to her with the idea that being friendly would make them gain something from her, a few points here and there, or any type of advantage… She would just laugh inside at seeing the poor job some students did at the end of a semester to try and get anything she was noble enough to give them (she wasn’t noble at all, at least not with those who didn’t put in the work. After all her heart wasn’t made of stone as you could imagine, she would help the people she knew did their part during the school year.)

But… there could always be an exception, right?

₊⟡.

Professor!Sevika, who didn’t want to be surprised when you approached her before class started, but she was anyway. You were earlier than ever before, your hands occupied and your voice sounded as soft as always with a hint of something she couldn’t decipher in that moment. She never had the chance to hear you talking only to her, she was accostumbrated to listening to you talk with your classmates or when you always so cleverly answered a question in class, but directly and only to her? never had the chance to hear more than a few words, until today. Maybe what has been stopping you was her gaze, that gaze that seemed to be the only one that could make your knees tremble, and it wasn’t because you weren’t confident, you were, but it was sevika after all. The only times you directed your voice to her and her only was just as you entered her sacred place of teaching, a small cordial greeting when you entered the class and a soft nod accompanied by a “goodbye” after classes ended. A small paper bag was gripped by your perfectly manicured nails and a drink carrier that sported two cups that rested in your open hand when you entered the hall this late afternoon.

She didn’t know how you got stuck with this class schedule that was normally the least desired one, after all… who wanted to take a lecture on a friday at 4pm?, but today she was pleased with it. This class normally has the least amount of students so it tends to be more relaxed, although at the same time this is the one where the tiredness that she accumulated during the week usually gets to her.

A surprised look appeared on her face when she saw you, with a small rise of her eyebrow. She was willing to be the one who started a conversation, until you got ahead of her.

“Good afternoon, professor” The words left your lips slenderly while a soft and shy smile appeared on your lips. This might be the first time she heard your voice clearly with no other sound to interfere, now that she had heard it loud and clear she found it enticing, a sudden spark of curiosity arose in her. Only a greeting wasn’t good enough, she wanted to hear you talk more.

“Good afternoon,” your name left her lips like it was covered by slick honey. “you are earlier today” Her usual smirk now plastered on her lips. Her thin metal frame glasses were lower on her gorgeous nose than usual, letting her eyes peek from the top of them. A soft blush appeared on your cheeks, she said ‘earlier’ which only could mean she had noticed that you were here before your usual time.

“Oh! Well… I was on my usual coffee run, it’s been a rough week for all so i thought it would be kind to bring one for you. I hope this isn’t an overstep.” She didn’t know where you kept all of these words before, but she wasn’t going to complain about it. This sudden rush of confidence from your side and the detail of thinking of her made a smile appear on her lips, suddenly her tooth gap was on display only for you to see.

“It isn’t an overstep, don’t sweat about it. And thank you for this, I was almost on my way to grab a cup from those vending machines.” A short chuckle left your lips. Sevika was never used to kindness, at the end of the day her background wasn’t colourful. Everything she had made of herself was thanks to her effort, unthinkable hours spent on working and studying at the same time, sleeping when and where she could, having to endure men thinking and telling her she would always be ‘a no one’. She was used to always thinking the worst, especially coming from students, and although this time it felt different the little voice in her head told her to not let her guard down. While her mind was quickly filled with information you occupied yourself taking the cup from the holder with only one free hand. She thought about what could have driven you to do this; you didn’t need extra points on your assignments, your work was basically perfect, you weren’t failing for the same reason, so then why?.

“But those suck!” You quickly interrupted her train of thought. She blinked slowly, focusing on you. “I didn’t know what you would like so I chose just a latte, I also asked for sugar and sweetener in case you preferred that”. You said as you put everything you just mentioned in front of her.

“They indeed suck. And I don't really mind the way the coffee is made. Coffee, it's coffee after all.” Confused was how she was feeling, she couldn’t really understand it, again why?. Before she could stop herself she asked “Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did” a soft laugh escaped your lips. Ah! now you’re toying with her, her own smile grew a little bit more making her gaze look gentler. “but yes, of course”

“Why?” Now you were the one surprised.

“Why?” This time you were the one asking the question.

“Yes, why?” A look of confusion appeared on your face.

“The coffee?” A small nod came from her side, a hot tingling sensation took over you, you could feel it on your naked shoulders and the back of your neck. You could feel it in your face too, probably a soft blush appeared on these areas as you stumbled with your words, she still made you nervous after all. You were grateful that you weren’t that young anymore, if you were still in your early twenties your hands would sweat and your whole body would start to tremble. After a soft sigh left you, you answered. “I don’t think there is just a specific ‘why’, you are probably my favorite professor and your lectures always leave me with this sensation of wanting to know more. I thought making a move to be closer would be great, after all I am really interested in what you teach and would love to have someone to talk about all of this and who is better for that than an academic that teaches about it.”

Her gaze softened the more you talked, her left mechanical hand held the cardboard cup close to her mouth to take a sip. After she was confident that you were done talking it was her turn. After she cleared her throat she talked in her characteristic deep voice. “That’s fine by me, after all I'm the one who reads what you write. You are different from the rest of the people in this course, I can notice your actual interest in everything I teach.”

She had also noticed your slim fingers taking notes, and the smile that appeared on your face when you where learning something new, she also notice the furrow on your brows when you were focused, and the way you bit the corner of your lips at the same time, but she wasn’t going to tell you that, it was dangerous, at least for now. What was that about a rule?.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

It never felt easier for sevika to get comfortable with someone, after a few minutes talking the hour of the actual class was about to start. You went to your usual seat, third row and in the exact center of the room, in her eyes you were glowing like a beautiful firefly in the middle of a forest of faces that blended in one dark mass. Before the class started she directed a smile just for you.

You have classes with her two times a week, Fridays and Wednesdays. A weekend and two days separating the times she would be able to see your face. Days that for some reason never felt longer to Sevika, you have grown like a vine around her thoughts.

She wasn’t dumb in the slightest, she started noticing how she felt about you on a sunday morning while her usual coffee started pouring in a cup, she was preparing her big girl to go on a run. Jaan, her blue merle australian shepherd, her little baby, the only animal that saw her softest side. When the black coffee was ready the smell brought her back to last Friday, to that softest smile and the smallest portion of shyness that had escaped from your lips while you talked. She noticed the smile that adorned her face in the reflection of the microwave door. After just a shrug of her shoulders and a sip of the piping hot cup she went with her day. She wasn’t a child anymore and neither were you, so, why would it be a problem to have a little crush?.

Yeah… it wasn’t just a little crush. Every single time she smelled a coffee she was transported to that day, every single time remembering something different about that few minutes you talked… and about the duration of the lecture and how you looked while listening to her talk… and at that disgustingly sweet smirk that you gifted her before waving goodbye. And it was going to begin being a problem if she didn’t do anything about it.

Sevika was never someone to wait for things to happen, if she needed to take the initiative she would do it, and this time it would not be different. When Wednesday rolled around you appeared in the class ten minutes before it started. A white top with a square neckline that did a really bad job at covering your chest while a black flowy skirt that would be touching the ground if you weren’t using platform shoes covered your legs. While you walked closer to her, a small slit made its presence, the slit going up the right side of your leg until mid thigh, the sight of your soft skin made her swallow hard. Before she could keep on detailing every part of you she heard your voice snapping her back to reality. “Good morning professor!” Oh she was one hundred percent going to lose her mind if you kept smiling like that.

“Good morni-” she got interrupted when a soft combination of chuckles erupted from your throat, one of her eyebrows went up with curiosity while she saw how you covered your mouth to try to stop them from coming up. “Something happened?” Genuinely preoccupation started seeping from her. You started shaking your head ‘no’ while signaling her chest.

“You… Your overshirt, you put it inside out.” The blood drained from her face quicker than ever before. She looked at her arms, noticing that the seams were showing up.

Trying to feel less awkward now was her time to chuckle, her left hand going to the right cuff to start pulling from it. She started talking while completing the work of taking the overshirt off so she could put it on correctly. “At least it was the overshirt and not the actual shirt. I don’t think it would be a good idea to undress in front of someone before a first date” Your eyes were fixed on the flex of the muscles on her right arm that looked like if she forced them a little more the shirt would rip in half while trying really hard to focus on the words that leave her lips.

“Well, you are still undressing in front of me before a first date, sadly not completely.” you crossed your arms under your chest making your breast more pronounced, her eyes this time stopped there for less than a second, but you noticed, your smirk growing every passing second.

“We should change that, don’t you think?” She copied your actions, both can play the same game, she thought. Your throat felt dry for a moment, with your eyes fixating on her biceps. Oh how good would her arms both flesh and metal feel around your waist, and her tall and broad figure towering you from behind. FOCUS!

After a few seconds you talked. “Are you inviting me to a date professor?” with a faked severe expression you looked at her. Your eyes attempting to send daggers to the stormy ones that were looking at you.

“I was talking about undressing completely actually, but a date sounds like a better first step.” Laughter erupted from both of you at the same time, she watched in awe as you tilted back giving space to your lungs to breathe so you wouldn’t choke. In her eyes you looked ethereal, like a nymph. With your hair cascading behind you and hands resting on your stomach for a little bit. She noticed in that second again that she was too deep, she was into you and it felt good to think about it. After you relaxed yourself your eyes sparkling with the wetness of tears that formed from the force of your laughing and a big smile covering your face you talked.

“I'm free for the rest of the day after this class and on the weekends, professor.”

“Today works perfectly, and please, call me Sevika.”

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

The weeks went by quickly, every wednesday like clock work after class you two walked together to some place close to campus to eat something, sometimes it was your favorite café when she made you know that her favorite type of coffee was just plain black coffee. Every so often you eat at that pizza place that looked like just a door from the outside but once inside you felt in another country where you talked about the love you had for any type of bread. Sometimes one of the two made something to share and went to a nearby park to eat sitting on a bench under a gazebo observing the people walking while conversations just flew by.

You talked a lot, not only in person. You had also interchanged numbers, normally talking by messages but sometimes a call would happen in the middle of the week, the days passing without her voice felt like a torture for you. Even if you enjoyed her voice in a cell phone you would always prefer those conversations face to face more. You learned more things about her in those, like that time you noticed she was only a softie, even if she didn’t accept she was, you saw it in her eyes while she showed you pictures next to Jaan, also when she also explained her name ‘soul’ and ‘life’ were the most usual connotations for it, but it was also ‘darling’. She explained to you how her grandparents came from india and that she felt the necessity of connecting to her roots, also told you about her favorite food, which to no one surprise was a indian dish her mother made when she was a child ‘Rogan josh’ she grew up with the one that wasn’t spicy but now that aspect was the one she enjoyed the most today apart from the tender lamb meat.

You also made a habit of getting half an hour earlier to class every Friday with her favorite coffee, an unsweetened black coffee, and your usual, a deep long macchiato, and an assortment of different types of pastries each week. You two made a bet, she told you that you couldn’t guess her favorite dessert after you said she was a basic woman for sticking to just plain coffee, until this moment you have failed; donuts, cupcakes, typical desserts, brownies, cookies, croissants, cakes, lemon pie, pound cake, tiramisu, every each of them was just not it. The bet was that she was going to buy for you whatever you asked (under a price limit of course), and you were a woman on a mission.

One day you saw at the bakery a beautiful bunch of just cream puffs covered with a dark chocolate, you only picked those that day, your bank account could not support you paying for 5 different desserts each friday. When you made it to the classroom with a smile on your face she was focusing on organizing something that looked like sheets of paper.

“Are those last week's tests?” You said dropping the bag softly in front of her while walking to peek from behind her.

“FUCK!” She did a small jump on her seat for the surprise before reincorporating looking at you. “why are you so silent when you enter, you scared me to death”

“Uhhh professor I don’t think it’s very professional for you to curse in the classroom.” That was probably the best trait from you in her eyes. You weren’t scared to play with her. In your eyes she wasn’t this strict monster that noticed every detail and graded accordingly, she was just another pair.

“Oh shush, yes they are, you got a 98%. What did you bring this time?” She said opening the bag while she received the cup you were handing to her.

“It’s a surprise, something basic for a basic woman.” You watched from your seat a few feet away from her as she rolled her eyes taking the red box from the paper bag, opening without much care put into it. Her eyes that before denoted false annoyance were known bright while a grin grew on her face.

“What was that thing you wanted?” Now you were on your feet with your arms raised above your head with a smile that shined proudly.

“We can discuss that lately, Sevi.” You receive an eyebrow raised while she takes a bite of one of the pastries and offers one to you.

“Sevi?” she asked, her forehead relaxing and her face looking softest as ever.

“It’s that alright?” a delicate pink covered your cheeks while taking the pastry to your mouth.

“Yes, it is… smarty pants.” Laughter arises from her while watching your face contorn on exasperation.

“Oh my god, you have to be kidding me.”

“I am indeed kidding you. What should I call you then?”

“I don’t know, you have full autonomy, just anything that isn’t smarty pants.” Another bite was made to the sweet dessert that was picked between your fingers, a little of the crem from the inside smearing in the corner of your lips. The world seems to stop when you feel her calloused hand grip your chin softly when her thumb cleaned up said cream carefully. Your cheeks tinted red watching how she took the finger to her plump lips, liking it clean.

“I think I like sugar, is it fine… sugar?” She tested it on her tongue with a grin as watching you crumble a little bit, for surprise, for confusion, for excitement, for appreciation, for shyness.

“It is fine.” When your smile accompanied hers everything felt right. She didn’t need to know you were going to scream on your pillow when you made it to your apartment and run in circles in the living room. You were just keeping your calm right now. You were going to act like the look in her eyes didn’t affect you in the slightest, like you didn’t feel your knees trembling when you heard the nickname with her gruff voice that you had grown accustomed to listening to on a daily basis. Like your heart isn't beating with all of its force in your chest. Like you weren’t falling in love with her each passing second you spent next to her.

“And just so you know, the same with black coffee, they may look simple but to perfect them you need to master the recipe.”

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

One day talking on a voice call you let slip that you wanted to start moving more, just to help your muscles take a little shape. She almost instantly asked if you wanted to accompany her and Jaan on their sunday runs, in an act of foolishment from your side you accepted.

So that’s why you are here, in the slight heat that spring brought. Dressed with some running shorts, the comfiest shoes you could find and a fitted long sleeve shirt with a zipper that runs in the middle of it. Sevika was helping you stretch correctly while Jaan waited expectantly watching every movement her momma did.

“Just because you’re new here we are going to go slower, but Jaan gets anxious and would want to run at some point. So we are going to stay close to the park so I can let her roam free when she gets bored of us.” She stretched her back lifting both of her arms over her head leaving in sight a little of the skin on her waist with a patch of dark hair that went from her navel down and disappeared on the inside of her shorts.

“Does she run much?” You tied your hair carefully to not let your ponytail neither too tight nor too loose.

“You are going to see yourself, don’t worry.” She took the strap attached to the collar of her dog before signaling with her head to start walking.

₊⟡.⋆

She was trying to kill you, you didn’t have any doubt of it. First she looked extremely hot in this moment: sweating with her back damp from said fluids, the muscles on her legs looking like she was an ancient Greek statue by how sculpted they looked.

And secondly and probably worst: acting like this was just light work while you struggled to keep her pace.

“THIS ISN’T SLOW, YOU LIED.” You barely screamed at her while you stopped in your tracks flexing your lower body and putting your hands on your knees trying to catch those breaths that you felt like were escaping away from you every second you runned next to her. The first twenty minutes weren’t hard, it was enjoyable until she started incrementing the pace and you started to fall behind.

A few seconds passed between your stop and a comforting hand roaming up and down on your back and a softly cooing that accompanied it. “You should have told me to go slower, sugar. Sorry, I didn’t notice you were struggling.” You straightened yourself letting her hand rest on the small of your back, a smile plastered on your lips for the feeling of warmth on your body.

Although you have grown closer day by day it was hard to get her to touch you, at least in more intimate areas. And your insides were screaming for her touch. To be able to sense the feeling of her hands on your body. The feeling of skin on skin. To be able to take her hand in yours, to observe the scars in her human one and the details on her prosthetic.

Neither of you have brought up the talk about your evident flourishing relationship, you two knew you weren’t just friends but felt scared to bring the subject even though it was obvious that you both wanted the same.

“I’m okay now. I also didn't want to make Jaan stop, she looked happy.” After you said her name you started looking for the dog watching her run across the field in front of you with her mouth open and her tongue sticking out. Carefully and without thinking about it you leaned into Sevika’s touch, making her hand move slowly to your hips sitting there comfortably, no one said anything about it. You two just stayed there and enjoyed the feeling of just staying close for a little while.

“I brought some fruit and snacks, should we go look for them?.” Your voice came out dovelike while your eyes went to focus on her face this time, a small ‘hmm’ left her lips while her eyes stayed focused on the dog.

“Yeah, but let’s just…” Her grey eyes, light like the smoke coming from an ongoing fire and glowing like a pair of diamonds, went to meet yours in an instant with her velvety and husky voice she continued. “stay a little longer.”

“Let’s go, we can walk like this, and I also brought a picnic blanket.” a small chuck left your lips when immediately after you were done talking her eyes narrowed, her characteristic smirk coming to her lips followed by a strong and loud whistle that made Jaan come back to you two in a few seconds.

“Did you say something about a Picnic blanket?”

“I did, indeed.”

₊⟡.⋆

The food was already eaten, the dog laid with her back on the grass while Sevika herself rested her head on your bare thighs, one of your hands tangled in her short hair while the other worked as a support for your weight. You three rested under the shadow of a big maple tree enjoying the chirping of the birds, the gasp of the wind, but most importantly the closeness. The calm went interrupted when Sevika's phone started ringing, a confused look appeared on her face while taking the device from her crossbody bag, a smile appearing on her lips immediately, one different from whatever smile you have seen from her before. She picked up the call quickly.

“Hi sweetie” your hand stopped moving instantly after hearing the nickname. Why is she referring to this someone with such a lovely name? Did she have a girlfriend she forgot to mention?, you didn’t even ask if you remember correctly, after all who would be flirting and going on biweekly dates if they were in a relationship, you at least wouldn’t. “Could you pass the phone? Thank you.” Was there more than one person on the other side? A crawling feeling went up on your spine, the trickling sensation making you stiffen up. “Hi. No, I’m not home right now… Yes, Jaan it’s with me… Who else?” Her eyes went to your face, you can’t imagine what was your expression right now. You surely were trying really hard to appear normal, to don’t show on your face the sensation of pressure that grew on your neck and the weight that had found place inside your chest that was making it so fucking hard to breathe.

Your hand slowly withdrew from her hair without looking at her face trying to focus on something you could see, hear or smell. You wanted to escape, to go running but as far from her as you could, you wanted to scream and cry in the loneliness of your own space without some of the most beautiful eyes you ever seen watching you. But the space you created didn’t last much longer, she changed her phone to her left hand while her right went to catch yours to keep it in between her fingers squeezing softly as a way of reassurance. “I’m with a… friend, yes Jinx a friend. No she isn’t going to steal from us don’t worry. Yes, she is pretty. No… maybe, I can’t answer that right now. Yes, tell Isha I will be there in a couple of hours. Buy some pizza if you want, save me a few slices.”

Confused was short to describe how you were feeling right now. Your mind felt hazy, you didn’t notice in the moment the call had ended or the gruff she left out while sitting normally.

“Sugar?.” You heard her voice and your eyes flew directly to her face, your hand still trapped in hers.

Before talking you cleared your throat. “Can I ask who it was?.” A nod came from her side at the same time she reincorporated. A specific expression crossed her face, it was easily recognizable it was the one she made while preparing to start lecturing. She was organizing her way to dive in the conversation.

“Will you listen and not interrupt?” You let out a doubting nod while still focusing on her. “Alright, it’s a long story, before everything, I’m sorry for not telling you before” Oh that’s it, you are breaking up before even being something. Like she could read your mind she kept on talking. “I’m not in a relationship. I will not be flirting with someone if I was taken. Loyalty it’s the bare minimum for me.” She took a break passing one of her hands through her hair. “I was the godmother of this kid, Jinx, when her father died I was the only person available to take care of her. Her older sister was… not available at that moment. I took care of her from when she was 11 until today. She is 21 now. She is not living with me anymore, at least not full time.” Her eyes focused on the look of your hands between hers.

“When she was 16 I was going back to the apartment when a little child started following me. I was completely alone on the street, no one around us. She had the softest smile of all the world, and the cutest gap tooth you could imagine. With all the heaviness of my heart I took her to a police station. Isha is her name, and she was an orphan. They tried to take her away, but I don't trust those assholes and I also couldn’t leave her with them and let her go into an orphanage. Jinx's sister it’s called Vi, it took a long time for me to grow kind to her. Her girlfriend was a student of Social Work and she was also at Law School at the time. She also comes from this big rich family. After a few calls I was taking her as a foster child. I was already able to take on foster kids, for all of what happened with Jinx.”

She took a break to look at you, she was expecting you to go up and run away with a quick ‘Sorry, I can’t make this.’, after all you were still younger than her and probably would probably prefer to be with someone who didn’t already have two children. She wasn’t expecting you to have the most understanding eyes and a comforting smile plastered on your face, no pity, just pure sympathy and understandment. So she continued. “She was almost four years old at the moment, no one knows how or why she was on the streets alone that day, but I'm glad I was the one that she decided to follow. She is now nine, she doesn’t like to talk much, she has selective mutism, only talks when she is really happy and when you answer a call, she finds joy when you say ‘Hi’ to her on the phone.”

You don’t know at what moment your whole body relaxed and both of your hands were on hers admiring her profusely with a grin on your face. You also don’t know what possessed you in that second to say what you said. “Can I kiss you?.” The pure shock on Sevika’s face lasted less than a second before both of her hands were on the side of your face pulling you in a kiss. It was all you could wish from a first kiss with her, the movement of her plump lips on yours made you gasped, your hands resting on her thighs while you rearranged your position to till yourself closer to her, the softness of her touch made you feel hazy, the warm of her lips and the daintiness of her touch make you feel like you could crumble at any second on her hands. Your brain went quiet the second her lips touched yours all preoccupation you had before had already dissipated in the air. The soft scent that was so her covering all of your senses, woody tones that mixed wonderfully with a rich jasmine and a little touch of what you read as pomegranate. After what felt like just measly seconds but probably were a few minutes you two let go of each other, one of her hands lingered on your face while the other stayed put on your waist, and yours remained on her shoulders, you didn’t even remember how they made it there. Soft giggles escaped both of your lips almost in unison.

“You are so beautiful.” Her thumb brushed your cheek with care while you closed your eyes and tilted your head to feel her closer.

“I can say the same thing about you.” humming came from her side before her lips left a chaste kiss on your forehead. “I don’t think today it’s the moment because it’s a lot of information to explain, but I understand you. My two younger sisters are like my own children. I think all of this just makes me fall even deeper for you.

“Are you falling for me? It isn’t so professional of me to let a student fall for me, sweetheart.” Your eyes opened again with an inquiring look on your face, meeting a mischievous smile on her face that made you roll your eyes.

“You exasperate me, you know that?.”

“Oh I know, but now I also know you are falling for me while I already fell for you.” An affectionate grin came from you this time while you closed the distance between the two of you once again.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

You were officially dating now. It came up naturally during lunch together at her house, the conversation went so easy that you almost got undressed in front of her of how hot she sounded. There isn’t a label yet, but everything has worked beautifully.

Although you were dating your actual professor in class she would still treat you like what you were in that second: her student. She still graded you like each one of her students, your tests weren’t easier just because you two spent hours making out on your couch, or because you have spent a few nights just sleeping over at her place. In class you answered the question as always, and did your research how you would before dating her. And it felt nice, it felt nice to have someone you could count on, someone to kiss, to spend time with, but also to care for someone that was such a good teacher, to see her do what she loved and appreciate every constructive critic to your work, because being with her felt like she was making you a better person.

And she felt the same. She felt safe around you, she started to understand herself more being by your side. She understood she was able to give love and to receive it, she was able to be given kindness, and softness. She learned that she could talk about her little family, and that it shouldn’t be a turn off or a reason to stop caring about her. She would say that with you it went the other way around, you were interested in how good Jinx did in her last project in Art School, or how Isha was doing in her first year at elementary, if Jaan paw had healed correctly or when her next vet appointment was. But she also had a great student, someone who was always willing to learn more and to investigate even more of what she taught you. Someone to talk to for hours about this new perspective, or someone to consult when she didn’t know how to get a point across. You too were making her a better person.

Today you were at our usual Friday lecture, you two shared some sweets before class and you were still sipping in your coffee when all of your attention was on her. She was given away the last arrangements and fixes to be made on next week's paper, when she got to your seat she talked.

“Here is yours, I just put the grade on it. There aren't any arrangements to be made. You still can make changes and send it my way before the deadline and I would grade those accordingly.” You took the paper gracefully with a smile on your face. Before you could answer her a grumble was heard from a few seats back, an inquiring look was painted on her face, her usual eyebrow raised, her sharp eyes looking at the person where this sound came from.

“I’m sorry, is there anything any of you want to complain about how I manage MY class?.” Her arms crossed in her chest when her face transformed in that robust expression that could make the legs of every person in this room crumble. Yours didn’t crumble, they just got a little wet.

“We all know you two are fucking, of course she is going to get a 100% in everything.” An audible gasp came from your mouth and apparently from everyone else in the class. You were starting to stand up when she signaled with her hand that she was the one who was going to talk. ‘Hot’ you thought while sitting back down again, rage either way sipping through your pores.

“First of all, whatever goes between her and I in our private lives it’s none of your business.” She was never known as someone with a big patience and even less if it was directed to a man. The steps got louder by the second until she was standing in front of him. “Secondly, I don’t let whatever happens in my private life numb my thoughts and my knowledge, and for that same reason it doesn’t change the way I grade.” Her human hand now was in front of his face with her index and middle finger extended to be pointing at his chest. “But you know what does? disrespect. So I hope you know that you fucked your way out of this course, if you want to pass it you would have to give 200% extra of what your pairs are doing. And that I would be the strictest I have ever been in my more than 15 years of career, so you better toughen up little boy.” The furrow of her brows accentuating the harshness of her eyes. You were pretty sure that if looks could kill you he would be 10 feet under the soil. “Now get out of here for today your class it’s over, and I hope that you ask for forgiveness from your colleague before you step foot inside of my class again.” The guy who probably was less than 25 now looked like a child, trembling and pure fear plastered on his face. He also appeared to have lost every single drop of blood from his face, looking as pale as a ghost. He stumbled while taking his stuff and almost fell running outside of the room.

After he was out she talked. “Everyone can go home, today class is over. You all will get an email with today's topic and content to visit it on the time we would have been in here. To those who didn’t get their paper, you will receive the corrections between today and saturday in another mail, and the amount of time it takes for these corrections to get to you will be added to the deadline so it is fair for all. Hope you all have a great day and a great weekend.” In a matter of minutes every person in the class picked their stuff up and started getting out of the class, except you.

When the only people occupying the space were you two she walked to where you were still sitting. “Everything okay? Did whatever that asshole said affect you?. Promise to Janna I wanted to slap his face so fu-.” Before she could keep talking you took her face in your hands closing the distance between your lips. Her prosthetic arm immediately grabbed your waist while her human one went to the nape of your neck, grasping into you like you were trying to escape from her. The kissing part was nothing too new for the two of you. What was new was the force that you both were applying to it, the feeling of her hand gripping you with possessiveness, and the constant fight of your tongues for dominance. A small moan quickly got away from you, getting trapped inside of her mouth. Her teeth bit your lower lip when you separated from her.

“Fuck you looked so hot talking to him like that. Wanted to kiss you since you told me to sit down.” A chuckle escaped her when your confession touched the air, she leaned in to leave a quick kiss on your lips once again.

“Did I now? good to know you like when I get angry.” You started picking your stuff up when she started walking to her desk. She continued talking while stuffing the paper sheets on her usual folder. “Wanted to go eat with you after this, but now thanks to that son of a bitch I have extra work to do.”

You were in front of her with your bag on your shoulder. “We can go eat dinner and drink something in the night. It’s friday after all and my hot professor that it’s supposedly fucking me so hard and giving me a 100% in each of my assignments without of me putting any effort on them already left me free for this weekend.” A strong laugh came out from her and now you were being sad that what he said wasn’t real, you still were putting your energy and knowledge in your assignments and she still wasn’t fucking you.

“Well your hot professor did leave you free of anything to do, so she would accept this proposition happily. I know a place. Can I pick you up? I think nine it’s a good hour.”

“Yes you can, and it’s perfect. I have to go to the library now, so, see you in a few hours?.”

“Oh you will see me sweetheart.” A chasté kiss was left on your lips while her hand traveled to the small of your back to start walking out of the room.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

Night has come, after you left the library you ran home, and started getting ready. A bubble bath was the first step, while lounging in the bathtub you took the time to see your body. You propped your leg on the lip of the tub. You appreciated the feeling of your skin, checking the scars of years behind, of little falls and accidents of a younger you. You watched the hairs sticking down, will it be ok if you shave them? You didn’t think Sev would care much about that, it would make you feel more confident though, so you did. You went to your arms next, they felt a little dry so a little scrubbing was made and a soothing butter came after. Your hair was washed after you stepped up, a deep conditioning applied on it as you went out of the shower. Your skin was moisturized with a body butter that smelled like strawberries.

Standing on your feet you looked at your toes, they maybe would look pretty painted. While letting your hair air dry after rinsing the conditioner off you started painting your nails, hands and toes, all in black. After they wew dry and your hair done in a simple hairstyle that puts your hair up in a relaxed look with two delicate curls framing your face, you start looking for clothes. Your closet wasn’t huge, and there wasn’t so much information of where you were going, picking your cellphone up you texted her, receiving an immediate answer.

₊⟡.⋆

You 19:58

Are we going to a fancy place?

Sevi 💌 19:58

Sort of.

But no need to dress too formally, doll.

There was a small break after her last message with the bubble with three dots started blinking.

Sevi 💌 20:00

One of your usual skirts should be good enough ;).

You 20:00

OK. Thank uuu.

Sevi 💌 20:00

See you in an hour. xx

₊⟡.⋆

A small blush covers your cheeks, a skirt will be it then. You picked a black one, a little bit higher than middle thigh length, with a few pleats. For the top a deep red blouse with long sleeves and a deep neckline that exposes your cleavage beautifully. Although it was still the start of spring the nights were still chilly, when you went to pick a leather jacket you stopped in your tracks imagining the chance of her just giving you hers, she was always running hot after all. For shoes, black knee high boots with a few inches of platform, paired with some cream high socks under them.

You looked at the clock after you were done dressing, less than thirty minutes on the clock for her to show up. You took a seat on your desk taking everything out of your makeup bag, it has to be something simple. A dark brownish red went on your lower eyelid curving up in the corner to create the appearance of an eyeliner, blush on the higher parts of your cheeks, mascara coating your long eyelashes, and a dark cherry lipstick went on your lips. You packed the last item on your shoulder bag next to your keys, phone and your wallet.

When you were walking to apply on perfume your cellphone ringed with the special tone you have picked for her. You quickly applied your favorite perfume before answering your phone. “I’m closing the door right noooow.” You extended the last vocal while doing said action after hanging up. You took the elevator down, walking at a quicker pace to find her.

When you saw her you could hear a soft curse in the silence of the night, you felt her eyes ogling after your appearance while you walked towards her. When you come to a stop in front of her a grin emerges on her lips.

“Hi beautiful.” her right hand went to yours taking it to her lips leaving a soft kiss. The sensation of it lingering on your skin. You took the chance to get a good look at her. It wasn’t uncommon to see her in formal clothes, and you have grown to watch her in more casual outfits. Today she was wearing dark washed jeans and a deep red shirt styled the same as always, two buttons open and sleeves rolled up. Her usual combat boots are also on her feet. ‘We are matching.’ you thought to yourself. Her brown leather jacket that she took out when she saw you walking without your own was now being offered to you.

“Hi handsome. Thank you.” You said while she helped you out said jacket on.

“You look amazing today.”

“Well I followed the advice of someone who always has good styling choices.”

“Is that right?.” A slight chuckle left you while she walked you to the passenger seat of her car, she opened the door, let you slip in, and then quickly returned to her side.

“It is, she said she loooved how I looked in skirts.” Now was her time to chuckle, she helped you to put your seatbelt on and put hers after.

“Hey, I didn’t say that.”

“Oh!, you don’t love how I look on skirts?” She started the car and began to drive to the restaurant.

“I also didn’t say that. Because that would be a lie, and I hate lying.” A soft laugh erupted from you as you dedicated the time on the road to watch her. You would never get tired of doing that, of using your time to observe her, at the little furrow of her brows, at the look of both of her hands gripping on the steering wheel, just at her.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

You two made it to the restaurant fairly quickly, it wasn’t that long of a ride. It felt expensive but cozy at the same time. You were sitting next to each other, both decided to take a booth that gave the chance to stay right by the other. The menus came and went easily, in the end she decided for both because you haven’t any idea of what could taste good, two different plates with the idea of sharing. You asked for a mojito and she asked for just water.

It wasn’t long when you were a few mojitos deep, the food already eaten and probably the best slice of cheesecake you have ever tried was already half eaten. You were tipsy, it wasn't hard to miss, a smile that seemed to never want to leave your lips, glittering eyes thanks to the alcohol. Your right hand on her shoulder while you were leaning into her, exposing without noticing everything under your shirt. She looked at you with an expression that if you didn’t know better would have thought was one making fun of you. Her hand rested comfortably on one of your thighs, the roughness of it making contact with the soft plump skin of your leg.

“Mmmm, you haven’t drank anything, that’s unfair.” a pout formed in your lips while your slightly teary eyes softened making you look like a poor puppy.

“Mmm, you are right, but I'm the one driving, sugar.” You stopped for a second thinking about what she said giggling after realizing the point she made.

“But that’s unfair!! I want to see you drunk!.” She took a quick look at her wrist looking at the hour, it was close to eleven, time had as always flown around you.

“We can go to my place. I have drinks there if you really want to see me drunk.” You clapped happily while drinking the rest of your third mojito and raising your hand looking for the server.

“I would love that. I think you are a sappy drunk, and I have never seen you being sappy!!.” She already knew for this first instant that you transformed into a bubbly creature when tipsy. If you asked her she would probably say you were either a horny or a screaming drunk.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

Back in the car you were singing to the songs that blasted the speakers, she has let you put your phone on the aux. You said this was like a free concert and she wouldn’t think otherwise.

“Sugar.” a humming sound came from your side asking her to continue. “Do you mind the use of recreational weed?.” You shake your head ‘no’ while sitting even more incorrectly than before, fully facing her.

“It’s only allowed if you share.” An approving smile appeared on her face as she started to park her car outside of the house she lived in.

“That’s ok by me, let’s go, we are here.”

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

You love her home, everything screams ‘her’, the leather and dark wood furniture, the faint smell of tobacco and incense, the toys of Jaan are always in the same corner of the house. The dog slept in her own house in the backyard, being able to go in and out whenever she liked. But at the same time it was full of things that reminded you of her children. Pens, pencils, paint over a tray in the island of her kitchen. Toys and children's books on a big bookshelf reserved for them. Pictures of a smaller Jinx and Isha graduation pics of High School and Kindergarten. Drawings put against her fridge and a big painting that occupied almost a full wall. Said children sleep at the house at least three times a week, sometimes the full week. Jinx had her own apartment closer to university and to Isha school for when they wanted more alone time. After all Isha also felt Jinx as her own mom, and also her best friend, they were inseparable. Sometimes they would crash at Vi’s apartment when they felt like they needed to bother someone who wasn’t Sevika. Her voice took you back to reality.

“Ok, we have bourbon, wine, rum, and some beer. What does the princess want?” She asked while she prepared her own glass with bourbon and ice.

“If you have coke then a rum and coke. If not just straight rum.” She laughed slightly at your words while preparing the first option. You have already taken a seat on her couch sitting with bent knees making sure your shoes didn’t touch any furniture. You are still dressed in her jacket hiding your nose behind the garment to soak all of the smell.

She took the place next to you offering your glass, in the kitchen she had already drunk half of her glass and refilled it to be in a similar condition than yours. “Aren’t your shoes bothering you?” She said with genuine interest while letting her glass on the coffee table. You nodded at her question. With a few slaps on her thighs she signaled to extend your legs to her so she can help you, something you of course did. With extreme delicacy she takes them off slowly and lets them next to the couch.

“Do you want to smoke right now?.” She asked going to the small tin box that rested on the table opening it to take a pre roll from there. After you nodded again you got closer to her, leaving your glass on the table exchanging it with hers to take it close to her lips. She took a long sip from it before you put it on when it rested before. Her hand went to your lips placing the blunt between them, with a quick movement of her fingers she lightened up letting you take the first puff.

The cigar went back and forward in her lips and yours, on and off, the taste of it felt amazing mixed with the liquor and the kisses exchanged in between. At a point in the middle you ended up sitting straddling her legs. When the pre roll was close to and end Sevika’s hand went up to your chin taking a good grip of it that made your lips part. Smoking a big part of what rested slowly she let the smoke that came from her mouth curl its way inside of yours. A low moan came from you while your eyes instinctively closed.

“Mmh you shouldn’t do that doll.” Her free hand rested on your hips making sure you didn’t move. “We are both intoxicated, we can make out all of what you want but nothing else, yes?.” A pout formed in your lips before nodding, starting a kiss quickly after.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

What you think was about two hours or more passed easily, in between kisses, a few refills to her glass and a few normal cigarettes. You still were on top of her, your hands interlocking in the back of her head, your face resting on the crook of her neck leaving a trail of soft and wet kisses from the sharp line of her jaw to where the shirt interrupted your path. Her human hand rested on your thigh, her fingers about half way up your skirt, leaving designs of soft circles. Her head tilted to the side leaving you enough space to be comfortable.

In a few seconds you stiffened up while you took your time to appreciate the smells that mixed in the air, the most notorious one being the one of the cigarettes she had lightened up. A soft laugh found its way out of your throat. Laugh that quickly turned into broken sobs. The second sevika noticed she put off the cylinder to take a grip on your face.

Her velvety voice was lower than ever. “Everything alright sweetheart?.” Humming came as an answer while her inquiry continued .

“It’s just, the smell reminded me of home, of my grandma. She used to smoke like a fucking chimney, I told her it was goin to kill her one day, and it did.” Her hands went up to clean your tears. You let her for a few seconds until you went forward rubbing your face on her, her skin, her shirt, her face trying to get that smell all over you. If you were a cat you would be purring right now. Light kisses were left on the top of your head while she pulled you into an embrace.

“Are you ready to talk about it?.” After a few minutes you took a deep breath nodding.

“Well, you know that I'm not the common age that someone ‘should’ have in the 3rd year of a career. I entered university at 18, I had an important scholarship that covered almost all of my expenses. I had to break myself apart studying to maintain it, but it was all worth it. I always enjoyed learning. Who would have thought I would end up with an actual professor that I spend hours talking about what I learn, right?.” A humorless chuckle left your lips.

“There were five children in my home. I’m the middle one, two younger sisters and two older brothers. When I entered my second year everything was going right, or at least that’s what I thought. My two older brothers already lived on the other side of the country, they didn’t have the same luck as me to be able to study.” Your hands traced senseless patterns on her skin. “My dad died when my younger sister was 2, so I was around 12. Mom always grieved his dead, for what I can remember they were deeply in love.” You left a soft sigh before continuing. “She was on antidepressants the biggest part of my teen years. I grew up seeing her as this emotionless person, so different from the one I remembered from my childhood. The antidepressants worked until they just didn’t have such a strong effect to numb all of her feelings anymore, and she decided to take on something stronger.”

“I don’t know specifically what she was in but I know that she started when I left for that semester, and when I was in the middle of it, she was already wrecked. I remember it was finals week, my grandma called telling me she was gone out and hadn't come back. My mom left my two poor babies alone for at least two days before she could go check on them, 9 and 13 years old, feeding themselves on whatever scraps of food there were in the fridge, without notifying any of us.” Your hands had transformed into fists that gripped the cloth of her shirt. She didn’t appear to mind. “I had to leave as soon as I could. Lost my scholarship for skipping a final. When I arrived home I noticed she wouldn’t come back. The only thing she left apart from wrecked stuff in her room was her wedding ring, with a note where she didn’t even ask for forgiveness.” Tears were streaming down your face at this point.

Sevika tried comforting you slowly, cooing and cleaning your tears as best as she could. After a deep breath you continued. “We moved into my grandmother’s house because we couldn’t afford rent anymore. She didn’t only leave us but also the mess she created. I started working in everything I could while also being a mom for my sisters. My brothers helped when they could, they had their own families now. Grandma was old so she only could just do much, cooking, maybe washing some clothes, everything else was dropped on my shoulder the moment she stepped out. I did my best, I promise I did. Went to every recital of their school, helped with their homework and projects, went to football games, all while maintaining two jobs at the same time. I didn’t sleep much, or eat much, well, I didn’t live much. I didn't have time for it. Got really sick at some point but I didn’t stop, I was the only thing they had, I had to be there for them.” You took a break downing whatever was left on the two glasses before continuing.

“When I was 22 she died, found dead somewhere. I didn’t investigate much more. I-” your voice cracked mid sentence, the furrow in your brows was deep and your eyes lost in the background without focusing on anything, doing your best to not cry. “I didn’t go to the funeral, or the burial. Didn’t let any tears spill in her name, I couldn’t give it to her. She didn’t deserve them.” Her hand cupped your face slowly, when your eyes catched hers you felt clarity coming from the cloudiness on them causing the dam to break. “And I hate her, and what she did. But at the same time I cared so much, so deeply. Spent nights without sleeping thinking if she was ok. I didn’t go looking for her, I abandoned her, like she did with us. It could even be my fault that she is dead.” Breaking sobs left your lips while her comforting arms wrapped around you in the most warm way possible. You don’t remember the last time you felt so cared for, where someone cuddled you instead of you to them.

“Nothing of what happened to her it’s your fault darling. You can keep thinking it is, maybe you couldn’t even change anything if you did reach out, but we will never know. You are safe now, and so are your babies. You are the strongest person I know, I don’t think a lot of us could have survived like you did.” Your head rested in the crock of her neck while her hand moved soothingly on your back.

“I miss her sometimes, like a little kid. I never cared to admit it because I was so busy hating her. I miss the way she laughed, and her smell. I still haven’t been able to find her perfume. I miss the way she looked at dad. And how she was before everything happened. But I still have troubles thanks to everything, I have this crippling feeling on my body always that I feel something for someone, like I was 19 again and would be left alone in this big world. I don’t know if I forgive her, but maybe accepting that I do care for what she was will make me feel better.” An understanding sound came from Sevika while she made you look at her.

“It’s probably the best first step, baby.” A smile formed in your lips when you noticed the freeing sensation that stood in your chest. Then a loud yawn made its presence. A soft chuckle came from her side. “We should go to bed.”

“Mmmhm. Can I ask you to do something for me?” You crossed your arms behind her neck while her strong hands went under your legs keeping you raised while she started walking to her room.

“Maybe.”

“Can you be the one to change my clothes?. I think that if I stand on my feet I will fall to the ground.” A laugh came from her while she nodded.

“Yes I can do that for you, sugar.”

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

You were already on her bed sitting with your legs on the border of the mattress. “I didn’t think the first time I would be undressing you was to dress you again.” A drunk giggle came from you.

“What a waste hmm?.” You put your arms above your head while both of her hands got busy lifting your blouse up. Revealing a lacy black bra that cupped your tits perfectly. A side smirk came to her lips while she took the time to pass her fingers over the border of the clothing item, you felt the sensation of her cold metal hand and the roughness and heat of her human one.

“Hello to you two.” maybe it was the alcohol but you felt bubbly letting her appreciate and care for your body. Your hands went to the mattress slightly behind you so you can extend back letting her eyes roam over you. “Foot up darling.” Softly she took your socks giving a short massage to your feet followed by a little kiss, she did the same on the other one. “Hmm, how should I take your skirt off darling.” She asked more to herself while her fingers fumble with the zipper, slowly letting it go. “Rise your hips baby.” You followed her order without saying a word . The cloth left your legs leaving you only in the matching set you have put in case something else happened. And although it wasn’t what you expected you were still enjoying it. She took a step back to be able to observe every detail of your body. The softness on your skin, the stretch marks that cover your hips and part of your tummy. The freckles on your chest, and whatever birthmark she could pick up. “You are so pretty.” She came closer to leave a kiss on your lips before busying with her own clothes.

“Wait! Can... Can I help you?.” A grin made its presence while you rearranged in the bed, flexing your knees to be sitting on top of your calves. When she agreed your nails went to her shirt, un-bottoming it with care. When it was open you left a small gasp out, your hand touching her abdomen after asking for permission silently and being answered with a nod. Slowly your slender fingers went up, passing over her bust to her shoulders where you helped the shirt for it to roll down her arms, taking the chance of letting your hands linger in both of her biceps. Her left arm was the one with a prosthetic. She still haven’t told you much how it happened, apart of that it was a chemical burn that went to deep fucking the nerves and muscle of her forearm. The prosthetic initiated in the middle of her arm, being articulated on her elbow.

Your hands went to her belt, opening it giving you access to her jeans. You easily let it open letting it fall to her feet hearing the clanking it did when touching the wood floor, you haven’t noticed she didn’t have shoes or socks on. Your eyes went up all the way from her legs to her eyes, watching a little bit sober than before how big she was and the towering she did to your figure. Her body was now only covered by her underwear, a pair of short boxers and a gym bra. “You don’t sleep with a bra if I remember correctly.” The same way as before you asked for permission and she granted it to you. Your hand slipped to the lower elastic of the item. Your finger going under it feeling the lower margin of her boobs enjoying the sensation. In a few seconds the item was discarded on the floor next to the rest of her clothes. Your mouth was slightly open as you drank in her figure, noticing the two bars that went through her nipples, you could feel your mouth watering. “You are so beautiful Sev.”. You felt a soft kiss in the center of her chest and one over each one of her nipples, laughing when you saw them erecting.

“You are a menace.” She laughed cupping your jaw before walking to her closet to take some stuff so you can both sleep comfortably. You stare at her ass all the time her back was turned to you. She came back with a t-shirt for you and a few makeup wipes that she used to clean your face.

“Maybe. You know I sleep without underwear so you still have work to do.” A raise of her eyebrows followed by her characteristic smirk occurred while she got closer to you after throwing away the wipes.

“It’s my pleasure to do so.” Her human hand went to your back easily opening your bra in mere seconds, letting it flop out of your chest exposing it to her eyes to see. She also couldn’t keep her hands to herself and cupped both of them with the smile of a child looking at a candy shop. “Fuck you are going to make me go crazy.” You giggled while putting the t-shirt over your head.

“You still have to take my panties off.” An acknowledgment sound came from here while she help you stand up, her hands starting it’s way down in your bust taking in the shape of your waist and hips while slipping under the cloth to grab the elastic of the underwear sliding it off your legs letting them fall to the floor with the obvious shiny spot in the middle of them.

“Time to sleep, my girl.” The possessive tone of her voice made you smile while you climbed into bed again. She following you quickly after.

“Good night Sev.” Your hands rested under the side of your face.

One of her hands took place around your waist. Her chest making contact with your back and her nose buried in your hair. “Good night Doll.”

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

The place was extremely silent, no shower running, no clacking in the kitchen, not even footsteps were heard. You stood up walking to the bathroom, Sevika had never left you alone in her home before, so it felt strange to be habiting her space but without her presence there. She wasn’t in the bathroom as you expected for the lack of signals, you took your time to do the usual stuff you did in the morning, including a shower. After leaving that room dressed in one of her clean t-shirts and nothing else you went to the kitchen passing through the living room, still not signal of her presence anywhere in the house. If you were in your home you are sure you would start to panic at this point, but you weren’t so you tried your best to make your heartbeat go back to normal. The girls weren’t coming today for what she had told you yesterday.

You took the chance of being in her kitchen to drink a few glasses of water to help with the dehydration that the alcohol had left in your body. You were thankful for never having to live with headaches after a night out, and today wouldn’t change that. You tried to recall where your phone was, probably dead so it wouldn’t be helpful. You remembered what she said yesterday in class about sending the mails. You took a look at the electric clock that marked that it was in fact saturday. That’s it, she is in her office.

You stretched your back while walking slowly to her work place. You have been inside just two times. The first time you only stayed in the door calling for her to go eat. And the second one you helped her to organize it after she couldn’t find one specific document. When you got there you use your fist to knock two times. A ‘come here’ was heard so you did as you were told.

You opened the door slowly entering the room. It was only lightened by her desk lamp and whatever entered from her semi opened blinds. Both of these lights made her look effortlessly gorgeous, even as she was dressed in just some pants and a grey tank top and only accessorized by the cigarette that rested in between her teeths. Your eyes focused on her face. Her glasses were on and her fingers tapped relatively slowly on her keyboard. Next to her computer there were two small piles of paper sheets, one that looked like it only had a few pages clipped together while the other one was much bigger and taller.

“Working early, I see.” You walked slowly to where she was sitting standing next to her while looking at the screen.

“I’m going to make that asshole fail the class, I assure you.” Her right hand went to her face rubbing with disdain over her skin. A humming came from your lips as your hands went to her shoulders massaging them slowly. A sound of enjoyment came from her lips while she moved in the chair separating herself from the desk. “I had to leave my gorgeous girlfriend alone in bed at 8 in the morning just to do this shit because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

A soft blush climbed your cheeks while you walked to accommodate yourself in between her legs taking the cigarette from her lips putting it off on her ashtray. “Am I your girlfriend?, since when?.”

Her hands went to your hips pulling you closer to her. Her face finding a place in between your breasts. “Since this exact moment, if you accept obviously.”

Her chin was now the only thing touching your chest while her bright and full of emotion eyes were fixated on yours “You can’t look at me like that and expect me to deny that offer.” A soft chuckle came from her as her hands bringed you to sit on her lap. “The only thing I am going to say it’s that I’m still naked under this and bothered from last night.” A knowing smirk appeared on her face as her flesh hand went up one of your legs to the back of your thigh up to the plump of your ass confirming the information. Where she groped strongly while the ashy color of her irises disappeared under the expansion of her pupil.

“Then we should celebrate the start of our relationship. Don’t you think, dear?.” Your hands went to the nape of her neck, going upwards to feel the softness of her short hair tangling your finger in the longer strands.

“Hmm. I don’t know…” A mischievous giggle came from you as you pulled her hair while shortening the distance between you two. You talked softly on top of her lips making them brush against each other. “Show me how you would do it, baby. Show me how you would celebrate it.”

Before you could react her bold lips took contact with yours, the bitter taste of smoke and black coffee mixing with the bright and clean of the toothpaste. Her free hand flew to your hips accommodating you on her lap, making you straddle her. Same hand that followed rapidly the movements of the robotic one going to your free asscheek squeezing the plumpness of the skin. A soft moan escaped your lips giving her enough space for her tongue to slip in. Without thinking much apart from the feeling of her lips and the growing warm sensation in between your legs you fixed yourself on her lap, getting as close to her as humanly possible. A low groan came from her when she put pressure on your skin making you slightly grind against her.

“Sevi… mmghm.” Carefully she broke the kiss leaving you room to talk, taking the chance to appreciate your looks, the dampness of your hair, your dazed eyes, the redness of your cheeks and the pink that colored your lips for the action a few seconds ago. “Please.”

“Please what, sugar.” You heard the smirk on her lips before you saw it going into another feverish kiss that lasted the same or more than the first one.

“I need you, I need you so much, please.” You talked over her lips before kissing her again. With an insane amount of care and show of strength she stood up with you in her arms, acting like you weighed nothing. Without breaking the kiss she walked into her room. You didn't notice that you were there until your back touched the fluffiness of the bedding.

“Fuck you look so pretty begging, my love.” Her human hand went to your face caressing your skin, making its way to your chin and then your bottom lip. As an instinct you opened your mouth slightly. She took the chance you were giving her, in a few seconds your lips were around the digit, your tongue flat against the surface for her to rub on, before you circled it over the tip. Eyes dizzy on hers succumbing to the slightest pressure of her dominance. Your cheeks were hollowed sucking at the length, a string of saliva started coming from the corner of your mouth dripping to your chin. “Look at you, so eager to please. Fucking drooling for only taking my finger.” A needy moan came from you while your eyes rolled back in your head.

You couldn’t focus on anything, your head was empty. Only occupied by the feeling of her thumb inside your mouth, the filthy sounds that it made when she moved it in and out of your mouth and the growl in her voice when she talked. Your legs were now open giving her a semi covered view of your sex, already covered in slick, not like it was hard around her, just looking at her could make you go wet. After a few seconds she took her finger out of your mouth leaving you empty, as an instinct you tried to take it again when she gripped your chin to make you look at her. “Tell me what you need, doll.”

“You.” Her smirk intensified while her robotic had busied herself by slowly taking your t-shirt off.

“You should be more specific.” A pout formed in your face while you lifted your arms for the clothing to fly to the floor of the room. Her hands started rubbing your shoulders going slowly down your chest until making it to your boobs. “So perfect.” She murmured to herself.

“I just need you, I need to be yours in any way you want me, I want you to do with me everything you pleased. Sevi, please.” The neediness in your voice was palpable and it made her brain short circuit. Her mouth went to your neck attacking it. Her humid tongue danced over your pressure points and her teeth slowly took the chance to bite. Her lips apart for the kissing was being used to suck on the skin to mark what now was hers.

“You are going to look so beautiful, full of bruises and hickeys. I need you so bad.” Her voice was so deep it sounded more like a constant growling, one that made all of your skin tingle. She made its way to your bust taking the chance to appreciate them before indulging in taking one of them in her mouth, lapping her tongue over your erect nipple and putting the smallest amount of pressure with her teeth, making your breath get caught in your throat coming up as a shaky whine. With a loud ‘pop’ she let it free going to the other side to do the exact same thing. “I don’t understand why I waited so much to make you mine. What a dumb fucker.”

Her words made you chuckle. Your head went back slightly as another moan made its way to fill the room. “Baby, please.” A gruff came from her as you went to lay on your back.

“Stop being so eager.”

“But sevi.” Your legs rub together without thinking about it, seeking a release for your neediness. A disapproving sound was heard before the noise of a slap was made when her hand touched your legs, making your whole body shake opening your legs once again.

“If you keep squirming I would not give you what you need, sugar.” Pouting lips and puppy eyes looked with her darkened ones. “Fuck you look so sexy acting like a begging pup.” Your mouth opens slightly to let a shaky breathe out. “You like that huh?, being called out for what you really are?. My needy baby.” Her hands went to your legs, opening them completely, giving herself a full view of yourself. You were covered in a glistening slick that made your dark curls look delicious in her eyes. “Mmhmm. That’s what I’m talking about. I should fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see how wet and needy you are for me.” You threw your head back once again while your hand gripped the bedsheets.

Even when lust was swallowing all of her facial features you could notice all the love behind it. Before you could beg again she gave you mercy, touching you where you most needed her, an immediate high pitch moan was heard as her long and thick fingers rubbed your slits. Going from your entrance to your bundle of nerves, taking with them all the slick they could possibly carry. Same fingers left you quickly to go to her mouth, when this time it was her that moaned. In that moment you were sure you could come only from hearing her moan. “You are like a drug.” Before you could say anything you were startled, her mouth went to your sex and suddenly you were floating.

“Oh my fucki-, fuck sev.” Your hand went to her hair in a second while your back arched trying to get even closer to her face. You were a mess immediately, moans coming from you like you were singing while she ate you like a starved woman. “Baby. Oh mmhgm. fuckfuckfuck.” Your lips were open completely letting everything that came from your throat touch the air. Her wet and warm muscles move with such an experience over yourself that you felt jealous of the people that could and had gotten this before you. Her lips went around your clitoris, taking it inside of her mouth, sucking at it with strength. You haven’t even noticed the cord that laid tight in your lower abdomen before it snapped, releasing yourself in her mouth.

“So delicious baby. That’s it, give it all to me.” She talked while continuing with the back and forward with her tongue.

“You should know it’s bad education to talk with your mouth full.” A laugh was heard muffled for your own skin that covered her mouth. You haven’t completely ridden your orgasm when you felt the coil tightening again. “Fuck baby just like that.” Her two point fingers went to your entrance, introducing themselves easily for the abundance of wetness that your orgasm had left behind. They started pumping and curling inside of you getting to that specific point with the ease only someone like her could have found it. Your fingers tightened her grip while the combination of her mouth and digits took you to your limit once again. “I’m gonna cum baby.” You said so quickly that she probably could only understand the ‘cum’ part.

You put your body weight in your elbows just so you can see her better. Your legs still trembling and she without even trying to stop, not like you were even going to ask. You saw the movements of her hips grinding against what she could find. You readjusted yourself so she could have access to the first part of your leg, thanking the added pressure she moaned with her mouth still stuffed with your cunt. Her moans were enough to keep you going for more as she added a new finger inside of you. “Cum for me Sev, please. You treat me so right. Fuck if only you could look at yourself right n- Aaahgg.” You couldn’t complete what you were saying before a whine interrupted you when you came once again.

You heard the noises of pleasure that escaped her and also the panting. You felt the eagerness of her hips before a growling moan surged with her as she made you sit up to take your face in her hands kissing you. You tasted yourself in her lips as you felt her own slick covering part of your skin as she came for rubbing on you.

₊⟡.⋆

You two laughed softly going limp on the bed trying to recover your senses to start breathing normally again. She rested on top of your chest with your hands in her back, a thin layer of sweat covered your body and probably hers too.

“Who would have thought that the severe professor Sevika would have such a filthy mouth in bed, huh?” A gruff came from her as she made herself look firm.

“Are you trying to mess with me? After you came three times? Only thanks to my mouth and fingers in less than what? 10 minutes?.” A blush covered your face as you laughed loudly.

“I am. And I have no shame in admitting that my girlfriend made me cum so hard and so good more than once in less than ten minutes.” Now it was her time to laugh as she sprinkled kisses on your skin. “You should be proud of it, some people date men that doesn’t made them cum in a fucking lifetime.”

“Oh I’m proud baby. How couldn’t I when you looked so good screaming my name.”

“Shut it.” A fist of giggles left both of you as you took her face in your hands kissing her freely. “I hope you know that now I would want to have sex on every surface and moment possible.”

“Well, I hope you know that I would be happy to please every desire you have.” Her human hand was resting in the plump of your ass.

“Sevi…”

“What happened baby?.” Your eyes locked on her reflecting all of the emotions of the last few months vibrated through your body. Your hands intertwining in the back of her neck.

“I love you.” A smile that showed her beautiful tooth gap made her eyes look softer. After leaving a short kiss on your lips she talked over them.

“I love you more, sugar.”

Please do not repost my work.

I hope you all enjoyed this, my dms are requests are open in case you want to drop something about this au <333.

#sevika #arcane #sevika x female reader #sevika x reader #sevika x fem reader #no y/n #university professor!sevika #professor!sevika #university professor!sevika x reader #nana!writes

171 notes · View notes

depresssant · 11 months ago

Text

rich boy gojo, who has always gotten used to getting what he wants. he comes from filthy rich old money and has never had to work a day in his life. money is like a never-ending river, and he knows and uses it to his advantage.

rich boy gojo, who people find a little off-putting. he’s hot as hell, is filthy rich, and has great friends, but people don’t approach him how they try with his best friend, geto suguru. he’s loud, bubbly, and extroverted, but he keeps to himself and his group of friends at the same time. people just… find him a little weird. but he’s loyal and committed to the t. he’s had five relationships in the span of 6 years, each lasting around a year. his exes have even warned others of how “far” he’s gone for them. he’ll do whatever it takes to keep a relationship.

rich boy gojo, who first meets you at a party. it’s two in the morning but the party has just begun, so he finds refuge in a somehow-empty bedroom that you’re already in. the two of you sit down next to each other on the floor. this isn’t your scene. he knows that since you’re quite infamous in the university and around town. you’re a thug. getting into fights, arguments, tussles with the police—yet you’re very introverted. he expects you to not talk but… you offer him a cigarette and your phone number under the slight influence of alcohol, and he finds himself smoking and talking about literally anything with you for the rest of the party.

rich boy gojo, who is enamored by your kohl-lined eyes, the dark bags that hide under them, your lazy grin, the faint scars that run up and down your toned arms, and the bruises that line your knuckles.

rich boy gojo, who instantly reaches out to you after some hesitance of fear of rejection. you’re confused as to why that weird guy, gojo, is texting you, inviting you to hang out with him and his group of friends. but then the events of the party wash over you. gojo was nothing like you expected him to be so you decide to give it shot.

rich boy gojo, who’s ecstatic to see you walking towards him and his friends rather stiffly. you seem distrustful to be there, but who cares? suguru glanced at him with a questioning look, but gojo promises to explain later. he drags you around with his friends everywhere, and gets to know you more deeply. this just goes on until you’ve actually grown comfortable around him, joking around and everything.

rich boy gojo, who witnesses you get into a physical fight for the first time. you look so small compared to who you’re fighting, but then you’re swinging your fists and all hell breaks loose. gojo can’t help his red face. he can’t help his suddenly anxious body. he can’t help the heat that’s got him bothered and fanning for air. its then that he realizes he likes you. a lot.

rich boy gojo, who is invited to your house for the first time. he meets your mom and younger siblings, and he finds out you’re not in the best financial situation. the two of you bake cookies, and you reveal a side to him that he's never seen before. you wearing glasses has him adjusting his pants and praying that you won’t notice how he’s airing out his shirt and fidgeting around. or maybe he does. he acts so differently around with you.

rich boy gojo, who finds himself at the same house he first met you at. the both of you are in the same room but now under the heavy influence of alcohol. one thing leads to another, and he wakes up to you urgently putting on your clothes and ignoring him angrily. you give him the cold shoulder from then on, and he finds himself growing desperate. he can’t lose you. not now. not ever.

rich boy gojo, who finally puts his money to good use. he captures a video of you fighting, and corners you after a lecture in the library. he knows that you’re on probation with the police due to your behavior. one more strike, and you go to jail, so he threatens you. “let me be yours,” he pleads with pearly tears lining those ocean eyes as if he’s the one being blackmailed into a relationship. and he knows you won’t refuse. you can’t when he’s offering to pay you as well. his money would mean being able to help your mother out. there’s a grin that eventually paints his beautiful face. his eyes have got a crazed look. he doesn’t think this is wrong. if suguru had gone to such lengths to have shoko, then what’s wrong if he does this to have you?

rich boy gojo, who moans so prettily when you finally kiss him again. his hands leave a trail of fire all over your body, and he’s a whiny and panting mess while he scrambles to get his clothes off. some part of him in the back of his mind tells him that forcing you into a relationship is wrong. but when you’re glaring at him with such hate while being quick to take off your clothes as well, he feels all reason leave with his sanity. you’ll be the death of him, and you’re going to stay. whether you like it or not.

i love my blue-eyed man whore but i feel like i'd hate him if i was in the jjk world 😭

also, i'll turn this into a series if yall want 🙈 asks and requests r open and check out my other works. now that i've gotten my e-begging out of the way, hope yall have a good day

#depresssant #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #jock!gojo #fem reader #female reader #male yandere #yandere #gojo satoru #jjk #yandere jjk #geto x shoko #hcs #hc #headcanon #gojo scenario #gojo x reader

788 notes · View notes

vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 2 years ago

Text

With Them, Who Swallowed a Star

PAIRING: Professor!Task Force 141 X F!Student!Reader WORD COUNT 5.3k CONTENT WARNING: NSFW! group sex, age gap, fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex, handjobs, facefucking/blowjobs, unprotected sex, p in v, anal sex, slight usage of nicknames, reader is a pianist/student, tf141 are professors, smut with plot SYNOPSIS: A musician is a storyteller in their own ways. You had told yours and captured the sights of men you never expected to pull when you stepped inside an academy. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I tried to be poetic. This fried my brain and I'm not going to write something like this again. That's a lie because I have a series that has 5 love interests. This one was supposed to have Graves as well since he's actually my inspiration for writing this shit, but I ended up not adding him. I might do it on Drabbles if someone asks though. And yes, I have changed my username from DontFearTheReaperAzura. Here's the Masterlist for more! Also on Archive of Our Own / DISCORD SERVER

Your fingers fluttered slightly as you lifted your hands to the keys, blocking out the rustling from others as they sat in the grand auditorium. Long and drawn, you began to tell a tale you had held for a long time. Notes swam in the air, old friends that played with your tresses and caressed your skin.

The story started slowly, the sound of the beginning, the beginning of the end. Longing clashed with trepidation, your fingers sang a song of despair. You swayed with the music, lost in the whims of unspoken words—of a world you owned. Quicker and quicker, the notes climbed in sync with your heart, growing joyful in hopes of masking the mournful melody surrounding you.

It filled the emptiness deep within your chest for a moment, before like the heavens shed tears upon a barren land, you showed—you poured out the lore of your world, and with heavy reluctance to leave what you created, you played the last few notes.

For a few moments, you kept your eyes closed, and when a series of claps reached your ears, only then you opened them. You were shackled back to reality just as you held back your work.

You looked at the people, who in your eyes were nothing but shadows at the beginning, now enamored, yearning for the rest. You knew they felt it, too. Pulled, as though you were the center of the system. Like the Sun, a star.

And one man stuck out more than others, gazing at you, blue eyes almost ravenous. But it didn’t last for long, just like a song in the wind, he faded among the standing crowd, drowned out in the flurry of praise.

You breathed out a sigh as you stared at the towering structure before you, now your second hell—in replacement of the ramshackle place you call home—after you had gotten a scholarship to this prestigious university after years of a couple of years of working your ass off. Students rushed past you on their way in and out of their classes, but you stood frozen.

Suddenly you felt awfully unprepared for this unfamiliar place, of socializing and strangers, and of university. Of life. What did Google say about socializing with people your age again? How about impressing a professor? Good lord.

You shrugged off your thoughts and sauntered to your class. A large lecture hall welcomed your sight and you found an empty seat at the front row. Not the perfect place for observation of the whole place, but good for listening to the professor.

The sound of expensive shoes echoed throughout the hushed room and you kept your eyes down as you took out your notebook and pen. As the quiet dragged on, you glanced at the professor and found your brows raising at his sight.

He was tall, seemed to be fit, and in his thirties. He had a few wrinkles, a beard, and brown hair, but no sign of graying.

Above all, you could remember those eyes. An endless swirl of blue. The man at the concert hall.

You put your gaze down as the professor looked down on you, your heart hammered against your ribs, sudden nervousness springing in your nerves. You wished he wouldn’t recognize you, but at the same time, you hoped he did.

Yet, the silence remained, and in curiosity, you looked back up. Your breath hitched as your eyes met his, gaze shining with something you couldn’t decipher, and a smile formed on his lips.

You forced yourself to mirror it and batted a glance at the door. You wanted to get out.

The professor introduced himself as Jonathan Price, and told the class a few things about himself, before diving straight into the first lesson of Philosophy.

Time seemed to flow fast throughout his class and you kept your fingers busy, writing down his words. He was easy to understand, bringing out intricate details in his lesson, and asked questions now and then if he was going too fast while walking around the room.

You couldn’t help but notice his slacks fit in a certain area. Then again, that thing wouldn’t give you a brain cell even if you suck it off.

The bell chimed and you gathered and stuffed your notebook and pen inside your bag, jolting up to your feet. But as you approached the exit, his canorous voice called out to you.

“Pardon me, young lady.”

You turned to face the professor, keeping a respectable distance from him, which he closed off, only standing a couple of feet from you.

“Yes, sir?” You asked in a small voice when he remained silent, his eyes studying you with disconcerting intensity, just like how he gazed at you at your performance.

Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, he asked. “What’s your name?”

You spoke of your name in a steady voice, equally confused and intimidated, you gripped on the strap of your bag. Everyone had already left, now bringing quietness to the hall.

He smiled once again, his head tilting a bit to the side. “A pretty name.” His voice sent goosebumps on your skin, making you breathe in deeply, inhaling the scent of his pleasant cologne. “Such a shame I couldn’t catch it after your performance a couple of weeks ago.”

He remembered you.

Your cheeks began to burn.

Oh, how he yearned to caress your tinted cheeks, place a kiss on them, and mutter praise against your soft skin.

“Ah, you were there, weren’t you, sir?” You offered him a smile and a pause. “I think I caught a glance of you in the front rows.”

“Correct.”

“Thank you for watching, sir,” you said, not knowing what to speak of next, and nodded at him, reaching out to the knob to leave. But he reached for the door, making you blink at his unexpected actions, caged between the door and him.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” he fessed, bodies now closer to yours that you almost touched, and you gulped. “You were magnificent.” He opened the door, a hand motioning at you. “See you on Wednesday. And I hope we see more of your performance.”

We?

You jolted awake at the loud laughter of a raucous group outside of your room and grunted at the sudden pang of pain in your head when you stood up. You glanced at the alarm clock by your bedside and muttered a crisp curse, hauling your bag. You burst out of your room, slipping past students in the hallway like a breeze, hurried apologies were called out to those poor victims she bumped into.

The morning had been long and tiring, and you decided to take a nap earlier, only to end up sleeping for a couple of hours. Now, you were about to get late for your next class, and the usual ten-minute walk turned into a five-minute run and an uncalled exercise.

You glanced from left to right in the hallway, glancing at your phone to make sure you were in the right building, and turned to the right, following the signs. You halted before a room, strangely closed even though the class was supposed to start in five minutes.

You used your phone as a mirror and patted down your hair, before turning the knob and opening the door. You walked into a softly lit room and realized the mistake you had made as you spotted a man splayed down on a couch across the room. A hand behind his head and over his stomach, and over the lower half of his face was a black mask.

Inside was a personal office, belonging to one of the professors.

You immediately turned away, about to exit the room when an angry voice echoed.

“Have you got no manners?” The man rose to sit, a scowl painted on his face.

For the nth time in your sorry life, you wanted to bury yourself alive. You dipped your head low in embarrassment. “I’m very sorry, sir. I thought this was the room my class was in. I didn’t mean to intrude.” You frantically fumbled on your phone, inputting the wrong password one time, and read your schedule.

You read the room number wrong.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

The professor fixed his crooked mask. “What class were you supposed to go to?”

“Uh, a math class of Mr. Simon Riley,” you read on your phone, keeping your head low.

A hum escaped past the man’s lips, making you glance up at him. His dark blond hair slightly ruffled from his apparent nap and coat a bit crooked. He ran his hand on his hair, fixed his coat, and patted down the invisible wrinkles on the fabric.

He stood up and you inched back, surprised at his stature. A tall man with broad shoulders and arms noticeably strong, (massive honkers) and eyes like a pool of honey, swirling like molten gold under the light.

“You’re in luck, sweetheart. I’m Simon Riley. You’re in my office, our class is in the next room.” Unlike earlier, his cold voice had turned a bit softer, but the fact that he was your professor made your sweat run cold.

You nodded, inwardly wincing at your dumbass. “Again, I apologize, sir.”

He stood before you, next to the opened door. Gladly, there were no students passing by in the hallway.

“What is your name, love?” he questioned, his hands going to his pockets. His eyes narrowed at the way your head dipped, refusing to meet his gaze. Like a meek little bunny, scared of the world and what all those pretty eyes could see.

He wanted to place a finger under your chin and lift your face up to look at him.

You never knew introducing yourself could feel like an interrogation until now. You told him your name, averting your gaze down at his shoes that shifted slightly. “Nice to meet you, Sir Riley. I’m sorry it wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

He hummed once again and stepped out of the office. “Pleasure’s all mine."

You followed him out of the room and he swiftly closed the door behind you, his being a bit closer to you than comfort.

With a nod, Professor Riley led you to the classroom. Dozens of students had already occupied the room and you silently made your way to a vacant seat on the second row, placing your bag next to you.

Just like Mr. Price, the masked professor went straight to the point, briefly introducing himself to the crowd, and began his lesson. He, too, was easy to understand, repeating the equations some couldn't get well, and was kind enough to let the class take a few minutes of break, before continuing. You had also come to notice he would fix his mask every once in a short while.

And when the bell chimed, he bid his students goodbye, yet called for your name. You halted on gathering your things as he approached you. His eyes glanced at the students who last left the room before he spoke.

"Feel free to come by my office whenever you have a question or need anything. Can't have you lose your way again, do we?" He asked, a bit of amusement in his voice as he leaned close.

You smiled at his offer. "Thank you, sir."

Sure as shooting, you asked him where your next room was for Chemistry. By good fortune, he knew where it was and who the professor would be.

"Ah, there he is." Sir Riley abruptly came to a stop, making you halt in your tracks as well and follow the direction of his gaze, to see a man with a mohawk.

"Simon!" The man jogged towards the two of you, a grin playing on his lips in contrast to the man who never took off his mask. Another person with blue optics, but his were bluer as though someone took a piece of the briny deep and placed it in his optics.

He kept a smile as his attention swept to you. "And who's the little bird?"

You frowned a bit at the nickname, nonetheless gave him your name, and watched his eyes light up with fascination. The man began to tell the pull he felt by the notes of your music, how enamored he was by the unspoken words of your tale.

He was there, too and Sir Riley was along with them.

Your face flushed as he ranted and they both noticed, taking note of the shades painted on your skin, bashful of the sudden recognition.

"He is John Mactavish, your Chemistry professor," Sir Riley piped in, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, before bidding his farewell at the moment, marching down to his next class.

Left all alone with Professor Mactavish, you turned to him. He grinned at you and he beckoned at you to follow him. The man was, well, talkative and wasted not a second expressing his applause of your performance and how he never expected to see you in the university.

You could only mutter small words and nod, already feeling exhausted. But it was pleasant to hear him compliment you. You could get used to it.

And you could get used to his enthusiasm for teaching. His first lesson went straight to an experiment and dragged you to his side as his assistant, instructing you to mix chemicals. Occasionally, his fingers brushed over yours as you passed vials.

Your eyes met, and sparks flew all around.

Literal spark.

And fire.

Professor Mactavish pulled you to the side, hand remaining on your arm as the chemicals were set ablaze.

With a couple of ticks of the clock, a giggle erupted from your lips and like there was a pull, his chuckles followed.

In the sea of awes, his laughter floated on the surface.

You sprinted on the hall, navigating through the winding routes of the structures, and arrived at one of the most exquisite auditoriums you had ever set eyes on. Your eyes took in the magnificent chandeliers and the divine paintings stretched across the ceiling.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled you from your stupor.

“Are you just going to stand there?” a voice called for your attention to where he stood near the stage. The man basked in the warm glow of the concert hall, skin as though molten caramel, and eyes like embers.

“Oh, forgive me, sir.” You straightened yourself up like a soldier before a superior. “I was just, well, this place is beautiful.” You couldn’t help but glance around once again.

“Isn’t it?” A soft smile crawled its way to his lips and he approached you. “I am Mr. Garrick and you are . . .” your name rolled out of his tongue like a serenade, gentle to the ears, a sight to see the way his lips moved, and he extended a hand to you.

You clasped it gently before realization dawned on you. “Pardon me, Garrick as in the Kyle Garrick?”

In a flash of a moment, something sparkled in his eyes and searched yours. “Yes, it is me.”

You nearly squealed and ran around the room in excitement. “Oh my God. Wow. I-I’m a huge fan, sir. You were such a huge inspiration to me—and, and, I wished I could have watched your performance at the concert before, but I was busy preparing for mine. Oh, that must be why Mr. Price, Mr. Riley, and Mr. MacTavish were there! You are friends!” Your words tumbled out of delight.

"Yes, well, thank you for the kind words." His hand sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, his smile becoming wider.

You gazed at him for a few moments before you snapped out of it, your brain slapping it to your face that you just rambled in front of this gentleman. "I'm very sorry, that was unprofessional of me."

"No need for apologies. But I do want to get a feel of your play today as soon as possible." A hand landed on your back, his warmth slipping through the fabric as he led you towards the grand piano patiently waiting for you at the stage.

Your fingers itched in anticipation.

Sir Garrick gave you a comforting smile and sat on the front row seat. "Feel free to play whatever your heart desires."

What your heart desires.

With a shaky breath, once again, you began to tell a tale, the notes sounding like a human voice as it wove its sonorous song.

A ballad to tie what dream your heart made. An andante at first and increased tempo at each heartbeat.

Lightning striking and thunder howling, Kyle was consumed with the way you swayed from one note to another. He couldn't peel his eyes off you as though you had him in your grasp, a puppet for you to control. And only when the last of the music hung in the air, could he snap free of the strings.

He walked towards you and dropped to his knee, taking one of your hands in his palm. "You were truly astonishing."

"I'm telling you, she was marvelous," Kyle exclaimed, pacing around Price's office and pointing at his fellow professors. "Blimey, if only you guys were there the other day, you'd feel chills."

Simon kept a straight face as he sat on the couch, legs spread, his knees bumping with Johnny who took a seat beside him, sipping from his mug of coffee. Whilst, Jonathan inclined on his chair behind a mahogany desk, decorated with intricate carvings and souvenirs he had gathered as they traveled across continents.

"I get that you're delighted, but could you quiet down?" Price grumbled on his desk, a pang of pain shooting his head.

"No, I am not shutting up." Kyle raised a hand, shaking his head. "She recognized my name. My name.” He pointed at himself.

“Anyone would recognize your name if they’re yer fan or hater,” Johnny quipped and placed the mug down on the coffee table.

Kyle turned to him. “You don’t get it, mate. She said she’s a fan of mine. I was a huge inspiration to her—”

“Was a huge inspiration to her,” Simon echoed, leaning back against the couch. “Used to be, not anymore.”

Kyle glared and stomped towards the masked man, grabbing his collar when the other merely raised his brows in a challenge. “I swear to God, Simon, I swear to—”

“I swear to God if you three don’t shut the fuck up—” Price paused, straightening himself from his chair as Kyle shook Simon, and glared at them— “I’ll have you asinine blokes chopped into bits!”

Kyle let go of Simon, who simply fixed his crooked collar and tie, and raised a brow at the man behind the desk. He sat down on a vacant chair, his eyes not leaving Price, and asked, “Are you jealous she recognized me, Price?” he was answered with another glare, which he shrugged at. “Or not.” He definitely is.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, each lost in their train of thought. All centered on a certain lady, whom they had watched from afar, now within their grasp. They only acted as though it was their first time meeting you.

Each born to a wealthy family, presented interesting things which soon died down as they broke them down into pieces, they had grown bored. And had found that there were only a few they could put their trust in this world. Though not related by blood, they shared everything since they were younger. They knew one another strengths and weaknesses. Their faults. Their passions.

Their desires.

A knock pulled them out of their reveries.

Johnny being the closest to the door, got up and opened it. A smile was brought to his face as he found you. “Hello, bonnie. C’mon in.” He swung the door open, a hand motioning at you.

You hesitantly stepped in as you saw your professors inside the office, eyes all settled on you. You put a hand on your other arm to hold down your nervousness as the door behind you shut.

Four men who were strangely overly friendly to you. You could think of a couple of reasons. The first being a musician they had watched and the second, being their student.

A hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you further in, making your face flush. “Have a seat,” Sir MacTavish waved a hand at the sofa, where he and Simon sat.

You kept your gaze low as you obeyed him, sitting between him and your math professor, red cheeks going in a deeper shade as you met Kyle’s gaze. Embarrassed, you finally faced Price, and asked, “What is it that you called me for, Professor?”

Price put his elbows over his desk and intertwined his fingers. “We have a proposition for you . . .” Your name rolled sensually out of his tongue.

The proposition was to be their assistant. Given their overlapping schedules these days, it was hard for them to handle them. At first, you refused the offer, telling them you had a part-time job to do, along with practicing your skills in piano. But they had already thought about that and said they could pay you for your work.

A tempting proposal. Perfect for a student like you who got into this prestigious school through a scholarship.

You tapped your pen on the table and heaved a sound sigh, slouching on the chair. You were in a cafe near the school, in an attempt to change the atmosphere and help you write a report for Sir MacTavish's and Sir Price’s classes, but it didn’t seem to be helping at the moment. A pleasant music came from your earphones to block out the background noises and you closed your eyes to lull yourself.

When you opened your eyes, you jolted up your seat. “Shit!” your hands immediately flew to your potty mouth and straightened your spine at the sight of one of your professors, Simon, across the table. “Ah, uh, I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t notice you—”

“Why do you apologize so often?” his rough voice was low and he placed a cup of tea on the table. His eyes landed on your notebook, full of notes, written clean as though it was printed.

You pursed your lips, unable to think of an answer, and ran your tongue over the soft flesh, catching Simon’s attention. “I . . .”

Simon glanced around the empty cafe, the only other person within the area was the staff over the counter, who kept her eyes on her phone. And you had perfectly picked a secluded spot. He looked back at you and reached out a hand, placing it under your chin. He lifted your face to bring your eyes to his.

Your heart raced at his actions.

“An angel as brilliant as you are should carry yourself with confidence, sweetheart.” His thumb caressed your lips. “Perhaps, we could teach you that.”

Your lips parted at his touch, warmth pooling at your stomach. You knew this was strange—wrong, and yet you didn’t want him to stop.

But he let go and leaned back, and you found yourself gripping on your thigh. “Have you thought of our proposal last week?”

You nodded, clearing your throat. “I have, sir.”

“What do you say?”

“The offer is good, and I don’t think it will clash with my schedule under normal circumstances, either.” You paused, letting him wait for your answer as you gazed into his caramel eyes. “I’ll take it, professor.”

You were fond of puzzles. You were interested in mysteries. And you were drawn to danger.

Being their assistant had more perks than you initially thought it was. You talked with them about their terms and added some of yours, and they seemed to be pretty considerate about it.

Maybe, a bit too much.

You had moved to an apartment they got you, so you wouldn’t be distracted by your roommates. When you had breaks, they would call you to their offices and give you desserts and snacks.

And more often than not, their touches lingered, turning into hugs, caressing, and pinching when in private. To close, seemingly the start of a taboo, a risk, and yet when Professor Price had you pinned between him and Professor Garrick in his office one late night when most of the people at school had gone home, you didn't want them to stop.

You wanted the heat to rush over you, like a forest fire, unwavering.

Didn't pull back when he planted his lips on you. Didn't stop the very professor you looked up to as a musician to bunch up your skirt and grind his dick against your ass. Didn't stop even when the other two entered and Sir Price had his hand rubbing against your clothed cunt. Didn't stop when Professor Riley locked the door behind him as Sir Mactavish joined in.

Johnny’s snaked a hand around your waist, a bit harsher than the ones he’d always done, but you didn’t mind it. Not when his lips were gentle against yours, patient and exploring as he led you on his lap when he sat on your couch, stealing you from Price and Garrick. He drank on your gasp as you felt another pair of lips on your nape, dusting kisses along your flesh.

Simon breathed against your shoulder, hand grasping the swell of your breast and performed maddening massage that got your nipples pebbling under the fabric of your top. You flinched when he took them by fingers, the rolls languid, and shifted on the other man’s lap as you felt a poke underneath.

Johnny groaned against you, parting the breathtaking kiss. He removed you from his lap, only to turn you against him, now facing the professor who had shed his mask. His fingers dipped under the band of your panties, into your untouched bud and your wet folds. He rubbed with a hum, spreading your filth.

“You're so wet, hen,” he commented and inserted a digit, rubbing it against your slick walls.

Your teeth sunk to your lower lip, biting back a squeal at the sudden intrusion.

Simon placed his fingers under your chin and leaned down on you, his tongue running over your lips, something he had always wanted to do before. “Don't bite your lips. That's something we're supposed to do, yeah?” He whispered on your lips and explored your mouth, savoring the echoes of your pleasure, and left to plant his marks on your collarbones. Hands gathered your shirt and lifted it, exposing your chest to his sight.

His mouth dropped to the nipple, sucking while his hand went to work on the other.

Johnny began to pump faster, making you throw your head back to his chest, moaning out in pleasure as you shot a glance at other professors.

“You are not so innocent after all, hm?” Price took your jaw and ran his thumb over your lips, before pushing it in, muffling your cries.

“No one's that innocent nowadays, Price,” Garrick remarked, watching the frown on your face and the flutter of your lashes at every jerk of Johnny's hand made and Simon’s tongue did. His tongue ran over his lips, hand cupping over his hard-on, palming himself through his pants.

You began to suck on Price’s finger, making his dick twitch in his pants—his brain wondering how good your mouth would feel around him. He pulled his hand away to work down on his belt and pants, hands pulling out his shaft. He gave it a few pumps, chuckling when he noticed the way your tongue ran over your swollen lips before a groan escaped from it as Simon planted a bite on your neck and Johnny's thumb began to work on your clit.

Price brought his tip to your mouth. “Open up, dove,” he demanded and grunted as he pushed his shaft in, breath hitching at the warm feeling of your tongue and your throat. Your face twisted a bit at the taste of his precum. He let you adjust for a couple of seconds, hand going to the back of your head before he began to thrust.

One of your hands flew to hold onto his hip as you let him use your mouth, eyes fluttering closed and focusing on breathing through your nose. Out of the blue, Johnny pulled his fingers out and Simon stepped away, eliciting a whine from you. Vibrations ran down Price’s body and he groaned.

Unbuckling of belts echoed in the air, and you were pulled away from Price, making him curse. The next thing you knew, you were staring into the eyes of the man you had admired for so long.

“Sir—”

Kyle put his thumb over your lips, cutting off your words. “Not sir. Call me Kyle.” He positioned his cock under your cunt, rubbing the tip on your entrance.

You gasped at the sensation. “Kyle . . .” Your jaw slacked as he slowly went in, hands pulling you closer to his clothed body, fingers running on your flesh, gentle just as how he played his instruments.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, hands sliding down to your ass to guide you up and down on his length.

Now, he made music out of you.

It didn’t take a few ticks of the clock until they fucked you with all they had.

Simon’s cock was buried in the confines of your mouth, fingers tangled on your tresses, watching the curls of your lashes get soaked by the tears that rolled down on your cheeks as they relentlessly pounded on you—Kyle on your pussy, Price on your ass, and Johnny on your grasps. You had never felt so full, so complete.

You feel your legs shake—the sign you have reached the pinnacle of pleasure and exhaustion when Kyle hits the spot deep in you. You whined against Simon’s cock, groaning as beg for the overdue orgasm that they had been keeping from you.

You felt a hand slide down your thigh, finding your swollen clit, before the rough pads of the fingers rubbed aguishly gentle and slow. If they weren’t your professors, you would have cursed at whoever the one was doing it. But your wish had been heard and he picked up the pace until you were crying, arching your back.

But they weren’t done.

You felt Kyle and Price become rougher at each of their thrust, Simon tugging on your hair harder, and Johnny losing his rhythm on your hands, until they all pulled back, coating your skin with their cum.

You slumped on Kyle’s chest, limbs like a stringless puppet as you ride out the aftermath of your orgasm. Your heavy lids fell close, tired from the deed, but you fought back the drowsiness, not wanting to fall asleep in the state you were in.

“You did good, love,” Kyle cooed into your ear and planted a soft kiss on your temple.

Johnny leaned down and pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “Yer amazing, bonnie. Can’t wait to have more of ya.”

A hand caressed your flushed cheek, swiping the transparent mix of tears and sweat. “Let’s bring you back to your apartment, dove,” Price said in a gentle voice.

Gentle fingers scraped your scalp, gaining a hum from you, must be Simon with how his fingers feel on your head. An unspoken apology about the way he tugged on your locks.

Like the sky glowing, your skin glittered in the ruins they drew up. A masterpiece you were, vulnerable, vincible in their sight, like walls that had fallen. And yet as though a book which held thousands of words, they still had more things to know about you.

Like every start of a relationship. How fortresses were made. Each beginning of a story.

You basked in the echoes of their praise, letting their words bring you comfort and slowly help you regain your mind and strength.

Like after a fire, new maps were drawn. A new tale was written, with them, who swallowed a star.

Taglist: @itsyellow

1K notes · View notes

fairy-writes · 6 months ago

Text

BY YOUR SIDE

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Holmes!Reader, Pregnant!Reader, Archaeologist!Reader, Potential OOC-ness for William

Notes: I KNOW I SAID I WOULDN'T DO A PART THREE, BUT I DO WHAT I WANT

PART ONE LINKED HERE

PART TWO LINKED HERE

__________________________________________________________________________

“Professor Moriarty?”

A student interrupted your conversation with William, effectively capturing your attention. You and your husband turn to face the student, a young boy you recognized from your most recent lecture at Durham University.

You had kept your promise to William about him stealing a lecture or two from you. And with your pregnancy advancing the way it was, you weren’t able to go on any long trips for excavations anyway.

“Yes?” You and William say in unison, and the boy stares for just a moment before giggling,

“Sorry, I meant Doctor Moriarty. I just had a question about the latest anthropology lecture?” He amended, and you looked back at your husband with a cheeky smile.

“I suppose I’m needed elsewhere.” You tease, and he nods, looking at you with what seems like fondness.

He had been doing that more and more often these days. It was doing things to your heart that you couldn't quite define.

“I’ll meet you in my office.” He said simply, and you nodded before following the student back into the classroom you had just come from.

“Does that make sense? I’m more of an archaeologist than a bioanthropologist. It’s been a while since I took or taught a class on it.” You trail off, the chalkboard full of supplemental notes, and the student’s eyes have glazed over. He snapped to attention and hurriedly scribbled down what he thought was important. While he did so, you placed a hand on your swollen belly, rubbing and soothing the baby inside. They were awfully wiggly today.

The student opened his mouth to ask presumably another question when you experienced something strange.

There was a “popping” sound and a gush of water between your legs. It soaked your dress and trickled down your legs onto the hardwood floor. You paused in rubbing your belly and looked down.

What…?

Then it hit you, along with a contraction.

“Oh dear…” You mumble.

Where were you?

You should’ve been here by now.

William sat in his office, grading a mathematics exam he had just administered to his students earlier that week. His lunch sat uneaten, as you typically ate with him during your lunch period, but seeing as you weren’t here yet, he hadn’t started eating.

But food was pushed to the back of his mind as someone frantically knocked on his office door and threw it open before he could even say anything.

“Professor Moriarty!” The student you had been talking to gasped, leaning his hands on his knees as he sucked in great lungfuls of air.

William was on his feet in a second, noticing immediately that you were nowhere to be found.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, though he already had an idea of what was happening.

“She’s… in… labor!” The student wheezed, and before William could even comprehend what he was doing, he grabbed the student’s arm and steered him around back into the hallway.

“Where is my wife?” He demanded, and the student pointed down the hall,

“In the nurse's office!”

William made it to the nurse’s office in record time. He was alone now, having sent the student to his dorm while he went to check on you.

However, he was stopped by the nurse’s assistant the second he tried to go through the door.

“My wife is in there.” He snapped, feeling strangely panicked, and the assistant nodded,

“Men aren’t allowed in the delivery room. The nurse is a former midwife, so she knows what she’s doing. You have to wait out here.” The assistant said, and William found himself gritting his teeth.

You were vulnerable and in pain. You needed him, and he couldn’t be there for you.

So he did the only thing he could and waited.

Hours pass.

He can hear your pained noises as you labor through bringing your child into the world. The door does nothing to hide the agonizing noises. He sat on the bench outside the nurse’s office, his knee bouncing and his hands clasped together.

“Liam!”

Who?

William looked up to see Sherlock running down the hallway. Worry was etched on his features. No one else followed. You still didn’t talk to the rest of your family, and John was at home caring for Mary, who was pregnant with their second child. You two were supposed to have your kids around the same time.

But you were a whole month before your due date!

He forgot that he had called 221B Baker Street to explain everything.

“How is she?” Sherlock takes a seat beside William, leaning back against the wall as he studies the door before him.

“I don’t know. They haven’t told me anything.” He said, and Sherlock huffed.

“‘Course they won’t. That would be too easy.” He jokes but William doesn’t even crack a smile.

It wasn’t long before Sherlock put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’ll be alright. My sister is a tough woman. She dealt with our parents for years. This’ll be nothing!” He tried, but William just hung his head.

“This is one of the first times I’ve been out of control of something. I can’t do anything to help.” He said, frustration clear in his voice. It was then that the door opened, and the nurse’s assistant came out.

“Professor Moriarty? You—”

A baby cried, and William felt his heart stop.

Were you okay?

What was happening?

Sherlock pulled William to his feet with a grin.

“Ready to meet your child?” He teased, and William nodded, feeling suddenly unsure. But he slipped past the nurse’s assistant into the office where your makeshift labor and delivery room was. He heard Sherlock talking to the nurse’s assistant behind him, but that didn’t matter as he spotted you.

Sweat was a sheen on your face, hair sticking to the nape of your neck, and you looked unbelievably tired.

But you held a little bundle in your arms, swaddled in a towel, and he saw a tuft of hair that matched his own.

He was frozen.

“Are you going to come and meet your son?” You whispered, exhausted, but positively glowing.

Son.

He took a step when Sherlock tumbled into the room and bumped into William. Your face morphed into one of surprise,

“Sherly?” You asked, and he grinned,

“Liam called me. I wanted to make sure you were alright.” He said, nudging William forward as he spoke.

William made it to your side and sat in the chair beside your bed. It was more of a cot, really, and you had a multitude of pillows propping you up.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your sweaty hairline. You let out a relieved sigh and reach up to grip his hand.

“Better now that you’re here.” You murmur and adjust the baby in your arms to show him.

The baby boy is pale, like William, and has blond hair, like William. He’s the spitting image of his father, and when the baby opens his eyes, William sees that he has reddish eyes much like his own.

“He’s beautiful,” William says, and you grin,

“He got it from you.” You tease and beckon Sherlock over from where he was leaning against the door frame.

“Cute lil’ tyke, isn’t he?” He says, and you roll your eyes,

“Of course he is. Look at his father.” You tease, and William simply smiles.

#mtp x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #ynm x reader #william james moriarty x reader #moriarty x reader #fairy writes

176 notes · View notes

dollyzdaydreamz · 3 months ago

Text

Arthur Morgan x Reader Hell of a Life

Arthur Morgan x Teacher! Reader Description: Although everyone said you were too smart for outlawing, you never thought life would amount to anything besides it. When you impress a professor during a robbery, he offers you a way out of the outlaw life with admission to a women's university. Only that meant having to leave behind much more than your saddle and rifle. Warnings: none, reader likes math (couldn't be me lmfao), some angst.

The classroom was finally quiet, save for the distant sounds of other professors shuffling through the halls, likely making their way out after a long day of lecturing and study. Moonlight cast long shadows over the wooden desks, the scent of chalk and ink lingering in the air. You sighed, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes as you stacked the last of the papers on your desk, brushing away a bit of dust from the polished surface.

As you turned to gather your coat, your gaze snagged on something near the edge of the bookshelf—a framed portrait, slightly tilted.

It depicted a quiet moment—Arthur, seated with his journal open, pencil poised in his rough, calloused fingers, while you sat tucked into his side, a book in your lap, brow furrowed in concentration. The photograph was old, the paper slightly yellowed with time, but it captured the way his arm rested protectively behind you, the way your shoulder leaned into his as you read.

Your fingers brushed over the glass of the frame, a ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. It had been so long since those days—since you had been that girl, sitting beside the man you once assumed you’d muster up the courage to confess your feelings for, a man you assumed you’d share a life with, unaware of the weight of choices yet to come.

And just like that, the memory returned like it was just yesterday.

The lantern light flickered over the battered chessboard, casting long shadows across Dutch’s sharp, calculating features. You studied him as much as the pieces on the board, watching the slight twitch of his fingers, the way his lips quirked in amusement. He was enjoying this far too much.

“I must say, my dear,” Dutch drawled, leaning back in his chair with a smug smile, “you do keep me entertained.” He gestured lazily toward the board. “But I’m afraid you’re at a disadvantage.”

You scoffed, eyeing the arrangement of pieces. “You always say that right before you lose.”

Hosea chuckled from where he sat beside you two, sipping his coffee as he spectated. “She’s caught onto your weaknesses, Dutch.”

Dutch shot him a wounded look. “Now, Hosea, whose side are you on?”

“The side of truth,” Hosea said with a grin.

Arthur, who had been watching with his arms crossed, snorted. “Truth, huh? I thought we was outlaws.”

Ignoring them, you tapped your chin, then moved your knight, sliding it into position. “Check.”

Dutch’s smirk faltered for the briefest moment, and you relished it. He quickly composed himself, but you caught the way his eyes flicked over the board, reassessing.

“I do admire your boldness,” he said, moving a piece in return. “But this?” He gestured to your play. “This is reckless.”

Before you could make your next move, Arthur cleared his throat. “Much as I love watchin’ you take Dutch down a notch, we got work to do.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Work?”

Hosea nodded. “There’s a man in town. Wealthy, educated. Some sort of professor.” He leaned in slightly. “We’re gonna pay him a visit.”

“And what do you need me for?” you asked, glancing between him and Arthur.

“Well, with that brain a’ yours,” Arthur smirked, dropping a worn maid’s dress into your lap, “a distraction.”

You scoffed a bit, folding through the ragged fabric. “Use that brain of mine to wear some sorry excuse for a dress and flirt with him? Ain’t this a job for Karen or Abigail?”

Hosea chuckled. “Not exactly. A man like that? You’d do better askin’ him about his work, gettin’ him talkin’. While he’s distracted, we’ll take a look around his office, see if he’s got anything worth taking.”

“Fine. But if he starts droning on about philosophy,” you muttered, giving Dutch a pointed look before turning back to them, “I’m leaving you both to fend for yourselves.”

Hosea grinned. “Duly noted.”

Dressed in a simple maid’s uniform, you knocked on the grand oak door of the professor’s study, steadying your nerves. The moment he called for you to enter, you pushed the door open, stepping inside with practiced ease.

The professor—an older gentleman with wild graying hair, pale skin, and round spectacles—barely looked up from the pile of books spread across his desk. “Yes? What is it?”

You hesitated before lowering your head slightly, playing the role. “Apologies, sir. I was told to check if you needed anything.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “No, no, I’m quite alright. Just... stuck on a problem.”

Your gaze flickered to the large chalkboard behind him, where an intricate equation sprawled across its surface. Numbers, symbols, and variables intertwined in a tangled mess.

“Well,” you started, stepping closer, “if you don’t mind me asking... what exactly are you working on?”

The professor perked up slightly, finally looking at you with mild interest. “A mathematical model. But I fear I may have overlooked something crucial.”

Perfect.

Behind him, Arthur and Hosea slipped through the door, silent as shadows. You kept your focus on the professor, resisting the urge to glance their way as they began searching his shelves and desk.

“I don’t mean to pry, sir, but...” You tilted your head, studying the equation. “This part here” you pointed to a set of probability variables similar to the ones in the old textbooks you’ve read from, “you’re assuming they’re independent, but they aren’t.”

The professor blinked. Then he squinted at the board, muttering under his breath.

He picked up a piece of chalk, hesitated, then turned to you. “Say that again.”

“These two factors,” you gestured, stepping closer, “they aren’t separate. One influences the other. You’ve treated them as if they don’t interact, but they do, and that changes the entire probability distribution.”

You took the chalk he offered and adjusted the equation, filling in the missing piece. The moment the last symbol was in place, something clicked.

The professor let out a breath of astonishment. “Good heavens... that was it.”

Hosea and Arthur, now carrying their loot, subtly motioned toward the door.

You shrugged, turning back to the professor. “Just a lucky guess.”

The professor’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. “No, no, my dear, that was brilliant.”

He paused, considering something before reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a small card.

“I don’t normally do this, but...” He extended it toward you. “One of my colleagues, brilliant woman, she’s opened a university, one dedicated to educating women of all backgrounds.” he mused, gesturing to your attire.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“She’s looking for sharp minds. You would do well there.” he grinned, motioning to the board.

You stared at the card, at the elegant writing scrawled across it. The idea was absurd. You didn’t belong in a university with all that…high society.

“I’m not exactly the ‘scholarly’ type,” you deflected with a chuckle.

“Nonsense,” he insisted, “I don’t know you, miss, but you might be more suited for it than you think.”

You hesitated, fingers brushing against the card.

“Miss?”

Arthur’s voice, low and urgent, came from the hallway.

You clenched your jaw, then took the card, slipping it into your pocket before giving the professor a polite nod,

“Thank you, sir. But I should be getting back.”

The professor watched you for a long moment before nodding. “If you ever change your mind, the offer stands.”

With that, you turned and walked out the door, heart pounding in your chest.

Arthur, Hosea, and you slipped into the shadows of the alleyway behind the estate, bags in hand.

“Well?” Hosea asked, a sarcastic glint in his eye. “Did he fall madly in love with you?”

You shot him a look. “No. But he did offer me admission to some school”

Arthur, who had been scanning the street, turned sharply “Where?”

You pulled out the business card, flipping it between your fingers as you read the contents, “Some university at…Saint Denis.”

Arthur scoffed, “University” he muttered under his breath, “if anything they should be hirin’ you teach them fools.”

You faltered at the seemingly disapproving tone laced under the compliment, and tucked the card away. “Let’s just get back to camp.”

Hosea hummed thoughtfully but said nothing.

As the three of you rode into the night, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the card in your pocket. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it?

You were many things: outlaw, orphan, thief, a vagabond dragged around by Dutch’s never-ending plans.

But for the first time in your life, you weren’t entirely sure that’s all you wanted to be.

A few days later you and the gang had ridden along with Dutch for some social call. It was successful. Too successful. Dutch’s idea of a “social call” had spiraled into something darker, something that left your stomach twisted. He had taken it too far, his charm slipping into cruelty, and you had stood there, watching it unfold, feeling sick at your own inaction.

But it wasn’t just that.

It was the business card tucked inside your coat pocket, burning against your skin. It was the memory of the professor’s words, the way his eyes had lit up when you solved that equation. It was the thought–the dangerous, intoxicating thought–of what life could be beyond this.

Hosea found you alone the next evening, staring out at the forest that wrapped around camp. He didn’t say anything at first, just walked up beside you, hands resting behind his back as he gazed out into the trees.

After a long silence, he spoke. “You wanna go for a little stroll?”

You shrugged, before he gestured for you to follow him.

Silence surrounded the both of you, but it wasn’t the kind that you usually found comforting. You couldn’t seem to escape the thoughts in your head, that was until Hosea spoke up,

“You still got that card?”

Your fingers twitched slightly. “What card?”

Hosea gave you a knowing look. “The one the professor gave you.”

You swallowed, looking away. “Yeah…still have it.”

He exhaled, nodding. “I know you might not wanna hear this, but… you gotta go.”

You turned to him sharply. “Hosea-”

“You’re smart, kid,” he interrupted gently. “Too smart for this life. Always have been.” He looked at you, eyes warm but firm.

“And if you stay, you’re gonna waste that mind of yours runnin’ and hidin’ and scrapin’ by. Is that what you want?”

Your throat tightened. “...I don’t know,” you admitted. “It feels wrong. This gang raised me–you raised me.”

Hosea smiled, but there was sadness in it. “And raisin’ you right means knowing when to let you go.” He sighed, glancing back at camp before lowering his voice. “I know of a train leaving soon. It’ll take you straight to that university. You can sneak on.”

You hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. If it was one thing you were afraid of, it was being alone.

“I guess, I’m just–” you shrugged, “scared?” you mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed at the admission.

Hosea reached out, squeezing your shoulder, “Of course you are. Walkin’ away ain’t easy. Doin’ what’s right for yourself ain’t easy. But you know what’s harder?”

You looked up at him,

“Staying’ in a life that doesn't fit you anymore.”

The words hit you like no other bullet had. You inhaled shakily, nodding. You weren’t ready to say it out loud yet, but deep down, you knew.

It was time to leave.

After a few sleepless nights, you figured you’d tell Arthur about your departure. You sat on a crate, flipping through the last pages of a book Hosea had brought you a while back, the numbers and equations blurring together. It was hard to focus with the weight of what you were about to do pressing against your chest.

Arthur stood beside you, leaning against a tree as he sharpened his knife.

"You been awful quiet," Arthur muttered, glancing down. His blue eyes searched yours, like he could see the storm raging behind them. You hated how observant he could be, why couldn’t he be as clueless as everyone else assumed he was?

You hesitated, gripping the book a little tighter before setting it aside, before deciding it was time just spit it out.

"I'm leaving, Arthur."

He paused mid-motion, the knife stilling against the whetstone. His brows knit together, and for a long moment, he didn't say a word.

"Leavin’?" He echoed, voice edged with something you couldn’t place yet.

You nodded, "The university? Well, I sent the dean a letter and…”

“And?” he asked, turning to face you.

“There’s a train heading east in a few days.”

Arthur scoffed, turning away, shaking his head as he stared at the field in front of you two.

You fiddle with the book in your hand, hoping it’ll relieve the tension in your body,

“I'll be…studying, then they’ll offer me a teachin’ job there.”

With the way Arthur was staring off solemnly, you felt like you were speaking into the abyss,

“I can finally take care of myself” You chuckled a bit, astonished at the thought of not having to rely on camp funds and robberies, “hell of a life” you said, quieter this time.

“Hell of a life,” Arthur repeated distantly.

You swallowed, reaching for his arm, "And I want you to come with me."

Arthur snapped out of his trance, turning to give you a soft knowing look, before shaking his head as he looked down,

"Come on now, you know I can’t do that."

"Why not?" You reached out, taking his calloused hands in both of yours, squeezing them.

"Arthur, we don’t have to live like this anymore. You always talked to me about wanting something more than…than all this."

"I may have said that but…” Arthur tensed, reluctantly pulling away, “I gave Dutch my word. My loyalty."

You let out a sigh of frustration at his stubbornness,

"With the way he’s been acting? There’s a difference between loyalty and blind faith, Arthur," you tried to reason with him, “One day, you’ll come to know that."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of confliction in his expression, but it faded just as quickly, replaced by something sadder, something lost.

"You’re real smart, y’know that?”

You shook your head,

“Always have been. But this life?” he motioned to his rifle with a disdainful huff, “It’s all I got."

"It’s not," you insisted, voice cracking slightly.

Arthur gently pulled his hand from yours, “I can’t go with you.”

A silence stretched between you, thick and heavy.

You looked down, nodding slightly as you felt a sharp feeling of dread strike your heart.

"I understand.”

Truthfully, you didn’t.

Arthur shifted as though he had more to say, but shrunk back into himself as he cast his gaze down to the grass.

And with that, you walked away.

Adjusting to the strict world of academics wasn’t easy. Being up and ready in an uncomfortable uniform at the ass crack of dawn was harder than you thought it'd be. You’d been so used to waking up half past noon in your muddled gunslinging attire after a full night of chaos.

But nights spent crouched over your desk and nearly ripping your hair in frustration proved to be worth it. After graduating, your research gained a decent amount of recognition. But you didn’t care for the praise, the best part was teaching young women who, like you once had, longed for more than the world was willing to give them.

Some people despise you for it, men who thought a woman should keep her head down, racists who sneered at the idea of educating those they deemed lesser.

And yet, despite the newfound success, the past never truly left you, especially on lonely nights like this.

You had sent Hosea and Arthur letters in the beginning, amusing them with complaints about some of your snooty classmates and the professors with sticks up their rear ends. They’d write back, but after a while the letters stopped. You figured they did it to prevent the pinkertons from tracing you, but it hurt nonetheless.

Sometimes, on quiet evenings in the apartment above your study, you wondered how Hosea was doing now, if he was proud of you.

How Dutch was doing, if he hated your guts for leaving.

If Abigail got over her silly crush on that damn Marston.

Did Uncle finally shut up about his lumbago?

Most of all, Arthur.

You wondered if he was taking care of himself. You’d notice how he often put everyone else's needs before his own, which made him all the more trustworthy and easy to manipulate for Dutch. You just wished he’d see that.

As you looked at the quiet empty streets outside your bay window, you wondered if he’d regretted not coming with you. Maybe he’d decided to forget you altogether.

But those thoughts had to be pushed aside as you noticed how late it was, you had to lecture a class early tomorrow morning. With a heavy sigh you dimmed your oil lamp and went off to bed, dreaming of what life could’ve been if you’d all been together without all the guns and blood shed.

images found on pinterest but collaged by me dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

(I made a part 2 to this but it was so bad lol, I physically cannot make good continuations of my stories)

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan fluff #rdr2 community #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 headcanons #arthur morgan imagines #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 imagines #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan headcannons #hosea matthews #hosea rdr2 #rdr2

118 notes · View notes