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duskamethyst · 3 years

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stranger danger.

a/n: did i sit on top of my car to imagine this? sure did. a part of the jujutsu hub collab! thank you vee @suna-reversed for organizing this horny event for us horny people.

word count: 3.8k

genre: smut, nsfw, pwp

warnings: dubcon, literally dumbass porn, degradation + praising kink, daddy kink, gun play, mentions of alcohol consumption, dui and death, public sex, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, implied kidnapping

pairing: criminal!toji x f!reader

summary: dozing off in a parking lot seems dangerous but it seems like the right thing to do. that is, until a mysterious man taps on your window.

you shouldn’t have trusted yourself. you’ve vowed to yourself not to drink tonight, especially when you were driving to the city by yourself. maybe one drink wouldn’t hurt, you thought. but that one drink led you to another until you eventually found yourself light headed and could barely walk in a straight line let alone drive home.

so now you decide it’s best to just stop in a random parking lot and doze off for a couple of hours until you’re certain that you’re sober and ready to continue your journey back home. thankfully the lights are on and there are a few other empty cars in the lot, giving you somewhat a sense of security.

even though you aren’t completely sane at the moment, you make sure the doors are locked, turn off the engine and roll your windows down slightly to allow ventilation. if you could avoid a possible car crash, might as well avoid dying from inhaling some fatal gas. so you push back your seat and close your eyes to let sleep take you over.

but it isn’t for long until you hear a knock on the window.

startled and confused, you instantly get up thinking it would be one of the securities patrolling the area, telling you to scram but you’re only met with a rather handsome man, tall and brawny standing next to your car.

he leans down to your eye level and glares at you intimidatingly before he speaks, “get out.”

in such a panicky situation, your heavy cluttered brain doesn’t really tell you what to do nor what the hell is happening so you only stare back at him tongue tied, unable to properly gauge the situation thanks to both chemicals in your system and adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“are you deaf?” he snarls with anger distorting his face.

the sharp eyes piercing through you coupled with the discernible scar on his lips go so well into his menacing demeanor and you’re aware he’s getting impatient. unsure of what to do, your hand reaches for your keys to turn on the engine, thinking it’s best to leave but he bangs on the window as if to tell you that isn’t what he wanted.

“i only told you to get out. so, get the fuck out. now.” toji waits for you to comply, but instead you just sit there frozen and he sighs in exasperation. “look, i have a fucking gun. and if you don’t do as i say, i won’t hesitate to shoot your brains off. you don’t need it anyway, right?”

toji fishes out his gun, waving it in front of you in warning. “and you’d be fucking dumb to think it isn’t loaded.”

the threatening sight of the firearm is finally what makes you unlock your doors and he immediately swings the door open and pulls you out from your vehicle by the wrist. toji eyes you up and down, taking a special interest in the mini skirt you don with a filthy smirk across his face. he peeks inside the car briefly, delighted over the fact that you’re all alone in the middle of the night– in some deserted parking lot, no less.

“where were you from?” he suddenly asks with less gruff in his tone. the eyes raking up and down your smaller frame so flagrantly makes you feel small and vulnerable.

you lick your lips to return moisture lost to parched skin as your eyes shift from his gun to his face. “a party.”

“a party, hm?” he does a double take on your whole skimpy outfit, sending a plethora of titillating thoughts to run in his head and waking up his primal instincts. he hasn’t gotten his dick wet for a while and opportunities don’t come by so easily when he’s a man on the run. he’d have to be an idiot to let this chance slip through his fingers.

“must’ve put a lot of thought on your outfit tonight. why don’t you give me a little twirl?”

toji deliberately taps the gun on the side of his thigh, reminding you what could happen if you either scream or run. getting the hint, you decide to entertain him, knowing well that you could end up with a bullet in any part of your body if you try to escape.

but do you oppose the idea of a sickeningly attractive man trying to check you out with a weapon in his hand? not really. if anything, the alarming nature of the affair only gives a delicious thrill to your already messed up nerves.

his predatory gaze is fixed on your voluptuous curves and the little sway of your hips as you gracelessly turn around in your heels, making blood rush straight down to his cock before telling you to stop.

“get in front of the car.” he urges.

“huh? why?”

toji cocks the loaded gun in front of you, his expression turning stern and serious once more. “no talking, just do it.”

you walk towards the front with the gun behind your head, careful not to miss your step until you’re facing your car.

“hands on the hood.” he demands, dark eyes silently watching you do as you’re told like a well-trained dog.

you’re certain he can see your ass cheeks peeking underneath the hem of your skirt as cold air hits your skin. the thought of a pair of eyes staring you down hungrily forms an anticipative knot to pull tightly in your stomach as your mind wonders about the dirty things he might and could do to you.

the next thing you feel is the cool metal of the barrel under your skirt, making you shudder as it caresses your puffy folds before dragging upwards to hike up the hem of your unbearably short skirt in favor of checking your panties but oh, what a delightful surprise– not a single thread underneath it all.

“no panties?” he bites back a groan when he notices the glistening slick coated around his black gun. “don’t tell me you’re getting off to this?”

“‘m not–” you deny meekly despite the blossoming heat between your thighs growing bigger when you feel the tip of the barrel against your drenched cunt again.

“don’t lie. you’re a little slut aren’t you? went to a party without your panties on– something tells me you’re an attention whore.” he mocks, poking the gun against your entrance only to observe your little squirms.

“not a slut!” you whine giddily as you spontaneously grind against the long barrel in seek of relief for the dull ache that has formed in your core.

“no? you’re gonna tell me you’re not jerking off to my gun right now?” he chastises with a satirical smile on his lips, feeling his cock harden even more from watching the way you’re eagerly rubbing against the gun he currently holds in his hand.

“i– i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you try not to let your words slur as you play coy, even when breaths are already hitching in your throat.

“oh yeah? ‘cause that cunt is positively leaking right now.” you whimper at his words, being bad and filthy never felt so good– especially to a man you don’t even know. “bet you want me to fill that needy cunt.”

“mhm!” you mewl, gyrating your hips even more salaciously once you manage to find an angle to rub your sensitive clit, sending waves of sensations to every fiber and nerve in your body.

“now that’s an honest little slut.” he coos with amusement lacing in his voice. “why don’t you beg for it?”

you tilt your head back towards him, bottom lip jutting out into a cute pout and eyes pleading. “please..?”

toji lets out a huff, “not good enough, sweetheart.”

your eyes narrow at him, hoping he can read the desperation in them as you call him in the softest mewl that you've used to numerous guys before. “daddy.”

“hmm?” he strokes your clit by rubbing the gun back and forth and watches you quiver with a lopsided grin across his face.

“w-want– need your cock, daddy.” you pant in a shameless expression of your need for him.

“what do you need daddy to do to you, pretty girl?” he studies the barrel, now smeared with your slick.

“need daddy to fuck me– fuck my little tight cunt.”

toji draws his gun away and raises it at the back of your head. “then, get on your knees.”

you don’t need to be told twice as you instantly turn around and face him, the gun now pointing directly to your forehead and follows you even until you’re already kneeled in front him.

“you went a little too fast there, didn’t you?” he chuckles, the sound is smoky and alluring. “so eager. now, take off my pants.”

your hand reaches up to unbuckle his belt and undo his button before pulling the zipper down and tugging off his pants and briefs hastily. your mouth waters at the sight; his thick cock is already throbbing, tip flushing red and leaking precum with a prominent vein on the underside – causing you to quickly disregard the life-threatening weapon in front of your head.

seeing you blatantly gawk at him causes pride to spiral in his chest, as if you’ve never seen a dick before. but is it bad for toji to assume that you've never seen a dick as big as his?

“getting nervous now?” he teases. “fuck that. put it inside your mouth.”

toji exhales sharply once your tongue carefully licks off the salty pre on the tip, rousing him further with only kitten licks until the barrel nudges your head in warning, forcing you to stop your ministrations.

“are you asking to get a hole through your head?” he scowls, showing apparent irritation.

“no.” you answer meekly.

“then? i told you to put it inside your fucking mouth.”

“‘m sorry, daddy.” you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and give it a few pumps up and down his shaft in hopes to please him and calm him down. “promise i’ll be a good girl.”

“then stop fucking around.”

without a second to waste, you wrap your lips around his cock and hollow your cheeks, squeezing and milking his cock with your tongue and throat as your head bobs up and down. you graze your tongue on the underside and slowly drag upwards, following the curve of his vein before giving a harsh suck on his tip, drawing out a loud groan from his throat.

“look at daddy.”

and you do, fixing your gaze with his darker ones as you slobber his cock with so much drool and you relax your throat in order to force yourself down to the base, devouring him whole even as he tilts the gun next to your head.

“wish i had my phone right now. you should see how you look.” his other hand reaches the top of your head, holding you in place and causes you to choke slightly before jerking his hips forward and begins to fuck your throat.

squelching noises resonate in the silent air, mingled with his grunts. drool starts to seep from the corners of your mouth and tears begin to well up in your eyes as his heavy balls slap against your chin.

“boys must really love you, hm?” you can feel the tension in his fingers as he puts monumental effort into restraining himself and he finally draws his gun away. “just taking it like a good girl.”

you can only whimper around his cock, the praise making you feel hotter that you find your hand between your thighs to push a finger inside your wet cunt.

“fuck– yeah, keep touching yourself like that.” he growls, the sound rumbling in his chest as the vibrations from your muffled moans are slowly sending him to the brink of an orgasm.

you’re too immersed by your own finger pumping in and out to even care about the ache that has formed on your jaw but the moment you feel his cock twitching, you both know it won’t be long until he breaks down.

“you’re gonna swallow all of it. got it?” he states more than questions, feeling his balls tightening as he starts to lose the last remaining control he owns.

you hum in response and flutter your eyes close and you wait until his hips still before he spurts thick ropes of cum down your throat, invading all your senses with the bitter taste of his load.

once he has emptied, you pull away with your tongue gliding along his length, not forgetting to lick off the sensitive slit to clean off any remnants.

“open your mouth.” he demands. you part your puffy lips and stick your tongue out, showing your obedience to his prior order and a delightful smirk makes its way on his face upon seeing that you’ve downed every drop of his cum. “good girl.”

“to be honest, i didn’t think you’d cum quickly.” you blurt out bluntly.

his brows furrow and his face contorts into a scowl. “‘fuck did you say?”

you shrug nonchalantly. you don’t know where it’s coming from either– the alcohol still lingering in your veins or the fact that you feel beyond proud that you’ve made him, some guy who claimed that he wanted to rob your car cum so fast. “well, all the guys told me i give the best head but none of them ever–”

“get up. face the car.”

toji clicks his tongue as you blink at him in confusion and he grabs your arm to pull you up on your feet before spinning you around and bending you down on the hood with his body pressing against your back. you swallow nervously when you feel a nudge against your ass, his dick is still hard despite the fact that he has cummed just a minute ago.

“you’re gonna regret that. once i fucking ravage that little cunt, you’re gonna be begging for me to cum quick.” he leans down to your ear as he threatens, sending shivers up and down your spine.

“i’m sor–”

“no. i won’t give a shit if it hurts you or when you cry for me to stop.”

toji gives a harsh smack on the plump flesh, making you jolt in surprise. with your hands down on the hood, he lifts up one of your knees on top of the car, causing you to spread wide open in an instant before he impatiently pokes the tip of his cock against your pulsating hole.

“but that’s what you want, right?”

your eyes roll back, lips parting in an appreciative squeal as you feel his fat cock stretches you out accompanied with a delicious burn when he sinks in deeper.

“mmh– s-so big–!”

“yeah? never had a dick this big before?” toji pulls out almost completely, eyes fixed on the cock glistening with your slick under the street lights, not missing the white cream attached onto the skin.

“n-no– ah–!”

toji cuts you off with one hard slam of his hips, drilling his cock into your tight pussy in a brutal pace while you keen and whimper as it brushes against your walls, each stretch and drag inside you so exquisite while deep crescent shapes of his nails form on your pliant skin as he holds you firmly by the hips for leverage.

“no wonder you’re so fucking tight. stupid boys didn’t know how to fuck you right.” his words thrum in a burst of heat as he growls in your ear, breaking through your every thought.

you tilt your head towards him with heavy lidded eyes and meet his lust addled gaze. your mouth is gaping in breathless moans, tongue slightly lolled out from your lips as you try to reach closer to his scarred lips, wanting to crash your lips onto his before it stretches into a devilish smirk and you feel warm liquid lands on your palate.

“you looked like you were begging to taste my spit.” he mocks. toji watches as you eagerly swallow it down your throat and he lets out a brittle chuckle. “dirty slut.”

your pussy flutters upon hearing how he degrades you, causing you to buck your hips wildly against him in an attempt to meet his thrusts.

“you liked that, didn’t you? i can feel you clamping down on me like a fucking whore.” he derides, fucking you harder and deeper until your world is reduced into nothing but the way he makes you feel completely stuffed and filled, the cockhead kissing your cervix with each deep strokes.

“please– make me cum, daddy–” you keen as pressure pulls taut in your lower stomach, the slick noises are so loud that the both of you can hear them even through your moans.

your body flushes against his, so close together and you can only focus on the sounds of flesh against flesh, the salacious rhythm making you more delirious.

“then, cum for me. let me feel you gush all over me.” toji brings his fingers to rub against your clit, easily tipping you over the edge by pressing tight circles until you find yourself crashing down with an orgasm exploding throughout your body.

“you want more?” he taunts, helping you ride out the aftershock by continuously rutting his hips into your cunt and not giving you the slightest chance to recuperate.

“ah– ‘s too much–” you whimper as soon as the pleasure begins to numb and you clutch onto his wrist tightly to try and pry his hand away from your sensitive clit.

“too much? don’t think that i’m done with you yet.”

toji finally draws away from you, but only turns you around to face him and effortlessly puts you on top of the hood with your elbows propping your weight. with his hands, he spreads and keeps your legs apart before sheathing his cock back inside your pulsing cunt again, completely mindless of your pathetic sobs. he lifts up your top, not surprised over the lack of bra underneath and he intently watches the way your tits bounce with each merciless pound of his cock.

“s-stop– please–” you whimper feebly as you try to shut your trembling legs together but he doesn’t budge and only keeps his grip on your thighs even tighter, stretching out your pussy for him wider.

“fucking take it.”

toji ignores your plea and his head dips low to your chest, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples and starts to flick it with his tongue coupled with harsh sucks until he pulls back with a pop and watches as the nipple stands erect before assaulting the other, swiftly sending sparks of pleasure down to the bundle of nerves.

“might as well keep you around. be my personal fucktoy. would you like that?” he grins up at you to see your jaw slacking, mouth falling in a wide ‘o’ as the burn down your core begins to cease.

“yesyesyes– make me your slut–!” your toes curl, making your heels drop down to the ground while your knuckles turn white from squeezing your hands into balled fists too hard.

“yeah? you’d do anything for a good fuck, huh?” he sneers at you, although he’s fascinated with your state of arousal.

“mhm– need daddy to fill me up with his cum–” your back rests against the car, reveling in the feeling of his cock abusing your swollen cunt like you’re nothing but a sex doll.

“but daddy’s not gonna cum yet. not even when you’re tightening around him like this.” toji slams your hips down closer to him, fucking into you deeper and harder with his heavy balls smacking your ass.

“t-too deep–! daddy, i’ll–” you babble, losing the ability to form cohesive words as you feel a strange knot twisting rapidly in your guts. the feeling is too intense and unbearable– the refined drags of his vein brushing against your spongy walls is anything but agonizing.

“come on. use your big girl words.” he drags out slowly and quickly pumps back into you ruthlessly. “or are you too dumb already?”

“i’m gonna–”

toji lifts up your legs over his shoulders as he leans down closer to you and he nips on your pulse point, causing your body to tense as your hands find home in his dark locks and tight shirt.

as soon as he lets go, your pupils are blown wide as pleasure washes throughout your body and you feel yourself gushing around the cock still buried inside you along with a broken moan from your lips. the release is oddly more relieving than your prior orgasm, making your body feel lighter as your mind ascends to a state of euphoria. you find yourself panting heavily as you squirt all over him, staining his black shirt with clear fluid and with some of it dribbling down to his thick thighs.

“making such a mess on daddy.” he groans as he feels your walls convulse around him rapidly, milking his cock dry and slowly dragging him down to his own high for the second time of the night.

you can only look at him in a cockdaze with no particular thoughts running inside your head, each one formed gone like popping bubbles. your eyes glued onto every bit of his features; the brows furrowed in concentration, the lips parting in grunts, the damp matted hair against his forehead and you drink the sight of it all even when you’re not sure if you’ll remember it all the next morning.

“fuck– it’d be a shame to not cum inside this pretty cunt, right?” his thrusts turn sporadic, dick twitching as a telltale of his pending orgasm that’s soon to crash down over him. he didn’t need to hear your answer as he ruts into you faster, hips stuttering out of control before a low, guttural sound escapes his throat as he shoots hot ropes of cum, flooding into your womb and stuffing you full with his seed.

and once he lets go of your legs you can feel your whole body sore all over, but you can’t bring yourself to care nor whatever is going to happen after this when the man in front of you has given you what you truly wanted and made you feel satiated like you’ve never felt before.

toji pulls out his spent cock and runs a hand through his hair before putting his pants back on. a cocky smirk graces his lips at the sight of your fucked out body, still splayed on top of the hood with his cum dribbling out from your pussy.

he presses your cheeks together with one hand and forces you to look at him, even as your lids are getting heavy to lift.

“i was serious about you being my fucktoy– and stealing your car.” he cackles. “so, do you wanna be in the back seat or do you prefer the trunk?”

enjoyed this work? wanna buy me coffee? :)

#toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji smut #jujutsuhub collab #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw; dubcon #tw; kidnapping

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mcmansionhell · 3 years

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short lease in a slick machine: a personal essay about apartments

Hi Everyone, you may have wondered where I’ve been for the last few months. The truth is, I, like most people must at some point in their lives, needed to take a little break and figure some things out, needed to go on some long personal journeys, needed to meet some heroes, needed to just not do this website for a short amount of time, but don't worry, I'm back now, and I'm bringing the feels on the way in.

Before I present this essay, I would like to offer my deepest thanks to the people who kept supporting me on Patreon during this soul searching. I owe you everything.

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I’m moving again. I’ve moved every single year since I’d left my parents’ house at the age of eighteen, with the exception of the apartment I had on the second story of a Queen Anne on S. Mendenhall Street in Greensboro, in which I stayed in for two years. The rest of my dwellings have been painfully temporary, with life inevitably coming around to its annual migratory upheaval. There have been many reasons why, of course, quotidian reasons that always feel devastating at the time – jobs, school, pestilence, crazy roommates, despicable slumlords, partners to be moved closer to, relocating just to get away from where one has been before. I could rank every apartment on a scale of worst to best, from most to least livable, but none of them were permanent.

above: the only apartment I ever lived in for more than a year, a sacred place.

I wanted to write about the apartment I’m moving away from in Chicago even though perhaps it’s not prudent to do so – it’s never prudent to be personal on the internet. Don’t worry, though, I won’t include anything incriminating that could be construed as defamation or whatever. You can just feel angry on my behalf, which is really, truly in the spirit of McMansion Hell. And this is, well, apartment hell. The apartment I’ve lived in this past year quite frankly and very succinctly encompasses everything I kind of hate about architecture, about design, about the ways people in the profession are expected to live their lives for the benefit and the consumption of others.

first impressions

When I first saw the apartment, it was the nicest apartment I’d ever been in, the finest I'd hitherto walked the halls of in my rubber Birkenstocks. It was big and full of light, with lovely maple floors, the kind where, at the right time of day, you could sometimes see the tiger pattern emerge in flecks and ribs like those on the backs of violins. When the landlord, an architect, showed it to us, he had his stuff in there still. A Bertoia chair that was probably real. Very carefully selected items from Design Within Reach alongside enough pieces from other places to make the whole getup seem more authentic. Sparse hangings on the walls, each big and well-framed. Single potted plants. A well-oiled cutting board.

There were European bath and kitchen fixtures and recessed lights that dimmed at the press of a button, which meant we could get rid of all of our floor lamps. In the kitchen, tall, elegant white cabinets above a slab of marble, dubbed, reverently at the time, a living material. Blinds on rollers meant no need for hanging curtains. A soaking tub and a Duravit toilet, you know, the floating kind cultured people had. Europeans. The rent was at the top of our budget but still doable. I signed the lease fast, with unbelievable giddy excitement. Finally, a nice place to live after years and years and years in what could only be deemed as shitholes. Shitholes and the nice midcentury apartment building I lived in in DC, but that was a studio and DC was a place I wanted to get so immensely far from that we ended up in Chicago, the only city in America I ever really wanted to live in.

cracks in the facade, so to speak

As soon as we moved in, an unsettled feeling crept in. I can place it now as the sense that this apartment was too nice for people like us – people with particle board furniture and student loan debt. That it wasn’t really ours, we were just borrowing it before someone worthier came. Subconsciously, we knew this. We never hung anything on the walls save for the Mondaine clock my husband bought at the MoMA Design Store and the Giro d’Italia jersey signed by Tom Dumoulin, which I’d had framed. The walls were a blinding white. Putting tacks in them felt like an unlawful penetration. Our landlord fussed over the stuff we had on the back porch. One time he criticized where my husband had situated the soap on the kitchen counter, the living material which, in reality, is just a fancy term for “stains easily.”

All of a sudden, we were living under a microscope.

We weren’t using the apartment the right way; namely, we didn’t decorate or live like an architecture critic and a mathematician theoretically should. Our apartment wasn’t photogenic. There were too many bikes in the living room. We still had a garbage $300 Wayfair sofa that felt like sitting on cardboard. There was clutter. This beautiful apartment wasn’t meant for our kind of ordinary and this was made known several times in subtle and rather degrading ways, after which our lease was not renewed, to the relief of all parties involved. Even if it meant moving again.

The longer I lived in the apartment, the more I hated it, the more I realized that I had been fooled by nice finishes and proximity to transit into thinking it was a good apartment. As soon as we’d got in there, things started to, well, not work. European fixtures aren’t well-liked by American plumbers. The dimmable lights would sputter and spit little blinking LEDs for reasons totally unknown and we’d have to pull a tab to reset them. Everything was finicky and delicate. The shower head, the kitchen sink that fell in two times somehow (which we had been accused of being rough with, an absurd thought – it’s a kitchen sink!), the bedroom doors that didn’t close right, the bathroom door that would trap you inside if it shut during a hot shower. All of the niceness, the glitzy brand names, the living materials were not meant for everyday use, even by gentle individuals like ourselves. They were made solely for looking at, as though that were the point of all habitation.

Suddenly, we were in a prison of design. This was a place for performing living, and we, as normal people, simply wanted to live – wanted to leave clothes in front of the washer as we pleased, wanted to bake cakes that got flour everywhere, wanted to just collapse somewhere and go to sleep, wanted to have a private life not dominated by the curation and fussiness and pressures of taste that govern careers like mine. Our house was always just for our consumption, not that of others. I spend most of my life in the worlds of design and architecture, and to be honest, you wouldn’t know it aside from all the heavy books and the tapered legged coffee table. I never had it in me to turn my house into a museum of my own clever delectations, a proof of concept of my skills as a critic. I just wanted to dwell naively. Off Instagram.

But the worst part of the apartment was that it was designed by someone who didn’t know how to live, couldn’t think of anyone’s world other than the sparse one of the architect who owned nothing save for color-coordinated books and limited edition lithographs. It had all the functions of living, technically speaking, but the way in which they were allocated and arranged made no sense. There were no closets in any of the rooms, just open storage, which only works for people who don’t actually have things. The tub wasn’t caulked to the wall so that it would appear to float, a nice aesthetic effect which made taking showers annoying and perhaps bad for the walls.

Above all, I hated the kitchen the most. The kitchen was basically ten feet of counter space, with giant cabinets extending to the ceiling, far beyond what any normal person could reach without a stepladder, the upper shelves of which being where things went to be forgotten. A sink punctuated the center of the marble countertop – and marble is a terrible material for a countertop. It stains and wears with water. It shows all mess mercilessly. There was a stove and a fridge just, like, in the kitchen attached to nothing. The gas stove had no overhead ventilation and every time we used it we had to open the door so the smoke alarm wouldn’t go off. It was a kitchen designed by people who never cooked: too small, inefficient, laid out in the way it was, like so many apartment kitchens, so that it shared services with the same wall as the bathroom. We couldn’t put anything in the finicky sink to soak so the counter was always crowded with dishes. We had no dishwasher because that would mean ceding the only bottom cabinet that was truly usable.

It angered me, really, as an architecture critic, that this apartment, which had so very much been made to be ogled and looked at and oohed and ahhed over by people of taste was absolutely, for a lack of a better word, bullshit. That it was beautiful but unlivable, like some kind of joke made only for people like me to laugh at. I love design, obviously, but I hate the pressure to have to perform taste in the most intimate of one’s settings and this was the epitome of that, the untouchableness of it, the smug superiority of its flavorless emptiness. I’m not a curator of other people’s gazes when I’m in my pajamas or sweating it out on the trainer. I’m simply Kate Wagner, living with a husband and a dog, like a lot of twenty-seven year old white girls in cities. By the end of the lease, I just wanted to move somewhere where I’d feel at home, whatever that meant. I never had the type A personality needed for pristine white walls. I hated how the recessed lights made all our stuff look cheap, like a museum of stunted adulthood.

Our new apartment has a two-year lease, which is about as much stability people like us could ever hope for or afford. It’s the first floor of a worker’s cottage dominated by a palladian window on the second story that would be pretentious were it not so earnest. The house itself is a hodgepodge of the vernacular, which is what I deserve, as its chronicler. The interior walls are painted lively colors – a soft blue, a slate purple, a taupe, a mint green. It’s gritty enough to be cool and old enough to be livable. There are closets. The bathroom is covered in chiclet glass tile that’s different shades of blue, which I find endearing. But what I love most of all is the kitchen.

All my life, I’d been in search of an apartment with a decent kitchen, and I’ve always wondered why apartment kitchens suck so bad save for the obvious answer (landlords are cheap.) Like I said earlier, the desire to route services (plumbing, electricity) in the most efficient way possible governs most things, though this is more true of renovations or new builds than the adaptation of single family homes into multi-family dwellings. In the case of the latter, the second floor apartments are always the worst off, in fact, almost all apartments are worse off than the one that houses the actual original full-sized kitchen to begin with.

Adapting a space that was meant for sleeping into one where food could be cooked often required some inventiveness with regards to fire safety and ventilation and this usually took the path of least resistance, hence why most kitchens are positioned to the rear of the house, especially if there is outdoor access. (Plumbing in older houses also tends to be positioned on interior walls to avoid pipes freezing in the winter.) In Chicago, most layouts of familiar single-family vernacular housing styles are similar to one another on the ground floor, but the apartments on the second floor are always quite varied, especially with regard to where the kitchen is placed. Often it’s done, again, in a way that allows existing services to be used or for new ones to be built that are on the same wall as another unit. Adding new plumbing where it wasn't before is expensive and a pain.

However, service routing aside, most apartment kitchens are only ever satisfactory – kitchens for people who ate nothing but takeout or miniature versions of the real thing as though apartment living were just an audition for owning a house, something that’s just no longer true in this economy. This one -- with its vintage 50s aluminum cabinetry and its enameled countertops with glitter infused in them like some kind of demure bowling ball and its full-sized appliances and dishwasher, and mint green penny tile, its wonderful quirkiness and its ample cabinet space beneath the counters -- is functional. It works like a kitchen should, towards a domestic life engineered by modernism and scientific management with a dash of feminism to be less arduous. This is nothing short of a miracle to me. When I think about it, I get emotional. I have been searching for so long for any kind of semblance of a place tailored in any way towards my needs, towards my desires, which is to have enough space to help rather than hinder in the preparation of meals. Meals we now enjoy as a very small family. The kitchen was never really important to me until I had someone to share it with, as insipid and mawkish and introduction-to-a-gluten-free-recipe as that sounds. I’m no longer living for one, but for two, and I didn’t realize how much that changed living.

I didn’t realize how much autonomy meant until I lived in a place where I felt I had none.

Our new landlords, a school-teacher and private investigator (what a combo) are there right now cleaning the house, fixing the little nicks left by the previous tenants, pulling out their picture hanging apparatuses, which, they assure us, we can leave too. We can put stuff up on the walls, the very thought! They’ve already stickered our names on the mailboxes, have installed a doorbell, which strikes me as a very post-COVID gesture. They hope we will stay there a long time, and so do we. There’s a yard for the dog to play in with garden beds that house burgeoning bell peppers. Our friends are allowed to come over, which they weren’t before — well, not officially, but it felt like it. There are sounds in the house, of those who dwell above and below, the sounds of life. There’s a window I wish I was sitting by writing, and soon, I will be.

So many of us ask the simple question, what is home? What should it be? And the only real, genuine answer I have to give after ten-odd moves is that home is the only place in the world where one can be truly unselfconscious. Even if that means having particleboard furniture and a bunch of bicycles.

That’s my business, not yours.

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#architecture #design #personal essay #housing

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introloves · 3 years

Text

🦷: Okayy but daddy Iwa leaving his baby with mattsun while he’s gone like bo does and mattsun taking such good care of iwa’s little girl,,and if mattsun can’t Iwa will reluctantly leave her w makki who’s so much meaner 🥺🥺

— dom! matsukawa + sub space + teasing + mentions of pain + predator/prey dynamics + slight hair pulling + mentions of fear + masochist reader + size kink + dacryphilia + big dick + heavy breath play + choking + praise + creampie + petname (bunny) + f! reader

— word count: 2.6k

he looked her over, unable to stop the smirk from forming. shy eyes made his chest swell in a primal swirl of lust. already so sweet for him, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

“y/n.”

“hm?” your voice answered back in a small hum, cute and shy. he couldn’t help but let a shiver crawl up his back at the thought of how you’d sound broken and whining just like that for him.

but he was being too forward, no wonder why iwaizumi had asked to leave you in his care- you were dangerously alluring.

you were here to be taken care of, and what he wanted might not match up to what you wanted, he’d test the waters first.

grabbing your hand gently, making sure to not startle you all too bad- letting you know it was okay, there was nothing to be embarrassed or shy about; the plan was set out, in detail- by hajime.

the thought of leaving you alone while he joined his team out of the country wasn't something he liked to entertain- you were supposed to be taken care of at all times, even when he couldn't. that's why this arrangement was drawn up. it was something mattsun could do.

he led you to his room, motioning to where the bathroom, kitchen- where all the necessities were. his house was small; enough for him and now for you, it was where you would be staying at… and you were grateful.

“its not much… but its comfortable.” the tone and smoothness of his voice eased you further- the slowly oscillating timbre of notes made you melt.

you nodded, smiling a little, bending your head in appreciation.

it squeezed at his heart, the way you were so polite and kind, a sweet little thing he couldn’t believe belonged to iwaizumi.

it made sense, you’d made the comment on how you liked men that could protect, men who would put you on your knees by just a look… and he so deeply hoped he fit that criteria.

in private, you knew he was- he was tall and big, taller than your hajime, maybe not as thick, not as built, but his presence still made your knees shake.

you let yourself watch him from the corner of your eyes, watching him walk forward, settling down the bag he’d taken from you on his bed… in all honesty, you’d seen his couch- and someone as big as him would not have a pleasant time sleeping on it… but you didn't know where he was going to draw the line.

you’d hope he’d stay, hope he’d cuddle you and make you feel good… sleeping alone was not familiar to you.

being alone was an ugly thought, it was exhausting and horrible. being spoiled made you greedy and needy- all in one. a pretty thing iwa was proud of, always showing you off.

you needed someone, and you wholly agreed to be pretty and good for issei.

“okay bunny.” he sighed, sitting down at the edge of the bed, looking at you.

the petname sent little prickles of heat down your back, making you dizzy and complaint, it triggered a nice and comfy haze clouding your mind.

“time for bed?” he asked, watching the slow blink of your eyes, chest rising and falling slowly- slipping into that sweet headspace.

oh…

iwaizumi really had you trained well.

he was going to have so much fun with you.

“what do you want, pretty girl.” issei questioned, leaning forwards elbows on his thighs; looking at you like a good meal, something he was very eagerly waiting to take a bite out of- lower lip glistening with saliva as he passed his thick tongue over it.

it made you take a step forward, a pretty bunny falling right into the claws of something big and mean- being devoured came easiest for you.

“take care of me.” you whispered, placing two shaky hands on his shoulders. broad frame, nice and sturdy, warm and strong. everything a little bunny like you needed for security.

his lips curled into a pleasant smile, canines glistening under the light of his room, smirking at your sweet words.

“ah- you want me to take care of you?” mattsun’s voice was laced with inquisition, wanting to hear another note of confirmation.

“yes please. haji said you would.” you responded, pouting at the slight teasing, but quickly warming up when those hands of his wrapped around your sides. it felt real easy, tugging you onto his lap.

“oh, bunny i will.” he assured, thinking over his next words.

“i just… you know the difference between me and iwaizumi… right?” there was small apprehension, felt like he was trying to piece together words that wouldn’t scare you off. shaking your head slightly, they did everything but that- luring you in with the promise of something dangerous, something exciting.

it was really cute- he could hear your heart pound from where he was, watching your face scrunch up, leaning into him.

“if you want me to take care of you, i need to let you know- i’m a lot bigger than him.” matsukawa huffed, sliding the hold on your sides down to your hips, groaning at the warmth and softness molding under his palms.

“and i dont fuck like he does.”

the smooth timbre of his voice turned gravely, growling out those last few words, bringing your body to his- entrapping you in all of him. he let himself grace your neck, lips just barely touching- letting you back away at the challenge.

but you were a greedy thing, the small hint of danger electrifying every nerve in your body. thighs jumping around his lap, squirming.

he says it like a warning, but all it does is excite you. the promise of him fucking you doenst let you focus on anything else.

mattsun feels your squirming, sees the way you bite at your lips, pupils dilating as you watch him, wide eyes roaming his face.

he's the one who starts the grind, tightening the hold, shifting to sit back slightly; pushing you against the length already hard and heavy in his pants.

this is his favorite part, seeing the surprise- eagerly watching for the look of pure shock. maybe you're finally feeling the heavy severity of the situation, maybe it's a jolt of arousal that makes your eyes shake, lips parting in amazement at being sat on his big cock.

whichever one it is, it makes your head tip back, huffing out a tiny noise of surprise and want.

it feels so big, even now, just sat on his cock through his. pants and your bottoms and it's all just so-

“oh!”

throbbing cunt passing over a ridge, catching over your puffy clit, knowing it's the swell of his cockhead. it makes you weak, tipping forward, tugging at his shirt.

issei chuckles in response, warm hand traveling up your back, curling against your head. there's a tiny moment of reprieve- sits there, watching your shoulders tense up before he tugs.

it's gentle at first, admiring how you shape yourself perfectly for him, going limp as soon as he does, but just like you- he's a greedy man and pulls- back bowing against him. with clenched teeth at how you squirm, he hisses;

“what is it bunny?” what's got you makin’ those pretty sounds?”

there's already tears forming against your lashes, the feeling of your cunt freely gliding against the pool of arousal lying wetly right on your panties makes everything that more… exciting. if he's able to bring you to this state by just tugging at your hair… the thought makes you desperate or what else he could do to you.

“you! it's you ‘sei! don't want you to tease- take. care. of. me.” you mewl, exasperated at his actions.

he's so close- you can feel his cock pulse under him, and you want nothing more than to be split open.

but your sweet little tantrum simply makes him laugh, bringing your throat to his mouth, teeth grazing sweetly against the thrum of your pulse.

“little bunny… you’ve got some fight, hm?” he whispers, letting you go with a quick little bite- a reminder, something to let you know to calm yourself.

usually he’d take his time- reduce you into a mess of cum and tears and spit until you’re crying out for him, and even then he wouldn’t give you what you wanted. however, issei would play nice for now, knowing your little outburst was all due to the want for him. it made his heart thump loudly against his ribs.

“it’s okay- i’ll fuck it out of you.” mattsun groans.

you tense up at his words- the throbbing against the spot where he nipped keeping a heavy reminder, impatience didn't look pretty on you.

he lets a hand leave the warmth of your hips, thumb digging into the side of your cheek impatiently, keeping your head tilted to look at him- the tension in your scalp lessens and you're aware of the direction his other hand is traveling.

the sound of his belt clinking, button popping open, and zipper falling makes you squeak. whole body lighting up, pressing your cunt right against the hand working to release him from his pants.

“please!”

the word slips from your lips involuntarily, and once again, he lets the slip up go. there would be time to teach you to wait, to earn what he gives you.

using the grip he already has on your face, he picks you up, a show of strength tugging you up by your face to give his cock room to be released. your knees shakily hit either side of the bed around his body, hips tipping forward- giving him space, but even then, you feel the tip of his cock brush against your pussy.

a high, shaky sound of air leaving your lungs in a shocked whimper makes his cock jump heavily- your hands landing by your face as you stare, chest heaving- weight of his hand falls from your face, down to your neck, pressing you deep into the bed.

the thrum of fear peaks once more, exaggerating another gush of arousal, this time running down your ass- no longer caught by your panties.

“pretty.” is all he says, squeezing once, watching your legs jump. his thumb swipes up against your cheek to catch a stray tear. he wants to make a remark about your skittish muscles, working against you to tense up with every movement he makes, but the heavy lust burning in his stomach doesn't let him.

“breathe in for me- it’ll hurt less if you do.”

there’s sick pleasure watching you nod, so eager to do what he says just to be hurt in order to take him all. he wastes no time in order to tug your bottoms off, impatiently working with only one hand, all while he keeps his eyes on your face. its all a frenzy of want.

he wanted to take you like an animal, wanted to make it hurt- wanted to break your soft mind, but he resists. it’ll be fine for now, the time to play how he wants could happen at a later time.

the head of his cock meets heavy resistance, slickened by the never ending stream of arousal leaking out of your wanting hole- it makes it a little more bearable. you such in a breath, just like he says, tongue heavy with the weight of it playing against your cunt.

he was right, he was right and now your heart beat loudly in your chest at the feeling of him pressing in more and more- he was bigger than your hajime, and it hurt.

it hurt so good.

“m-more!” you gasp, impatiently waiting with the slow pace he's taking you. hands clawing at the hand still wrapped firmly around your throat, legs thumping over and over on either side of him.

it takes him back, gasping at the slight tilt of your hips seeking more of him, his eyebrows pinch together in amusement and surprise.

you were proving to be more of a challenge than he thought- but he did as he was told for now, shifting down to really pin you.

“pretty girl, so dirty- you keep surprisin’ me.” he grunts, watching your body lie pliant, mouth hanging open in a desperate and now silent plea.

he counts to three before lessening up, blinking at the way you shoot up to take a heavy gulp of air.

“good bunny.” he seethes, trying to keep up with your greedy cunt, fluttering around him as he pushes in and in and in.

its so good, nails digging into the arm still trapping your upper body down onto the bed, drooling as your tongue lulls out.

you’re hot and wound up, pooling sweat dripping down against your clothes, smushed against his mattress.

the first slam of his hips inside makes you sob, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of all the tension leaving your body, a reaction to being fucked so hard. you can feel him make a noise of appreciation at that, pushing his weight- using it to fuck you down onto the bed.

“so good- such a greedy pussy, only satisfied when it's being pounded like this- hm?”

issei emphasizes his words with an increasing tempo, barely giving himself time to breathe, drunk on your cunt- the pretty sounds you're making, the way your eyes have rolled to the back of your head, small hands no longer grabbing at his wrist.

you're creaming around him, already cuming at just mintues of being given what you so desperately begged for.

“issei! ‘sei!”

it sounds so pretty leaving your mouth in this breathy pitch and it's getting to him, the building orgasm crawling towards him at a rapid pace.

he releases the hold on your neck to grab desperately at your hips, arching your back against him while you jolt, body receiving the shock of his pistoning hips- slapping heavily onto your thighs, mixing with the loud squelch and squeal singing from your body.

you can’t will your muscles to contract any longer, already cuming once more at the change in position, weakly crying out his name- sweet and fucked out, babbling the consonants of his name over and over again.

“good girl- c-cuming so pretty for me.” he pants, teeth clashing together as he pushes past the resistance of your walls once more, sheathing his cock inside in a final attempt to make it hurt. he knows he’s successful when you lift up off the bed, choking out a warbling scream.

his body seizes, matching the feverish way you’re spasming around his body.

the heated, spurt of cum inside your cunt comes in thick ropes and you exhale in response, turning your head left to right as you receive it all- take it all in your battered, swollen walls.

he stays right where he stops, head hooked down, eyes looking at the cream of cum splattered on the stretched out lips of your cunt.

“fuck.” he gasps, slowly coming back from the overwhelming burst of pleasure.

“are you okay?” matsukawa asks, eyes softening at the way you slowly open your eyes, blinking hot tears from your lashes.

you cant respond verbally just yet, giving him a nod, a small tilt of your head before dropping your legs- finally relaxing.

he sees why you need this every night, you're glowing- covered in sweat and a sweet smile playing at your lips.

“so good- thank you issei.” you sing, already ready to sleep- and with the almost devious curl of your lips, he swears you- the sweet bunny he brought into his home was more predator than prey.

“play with me some more... later- please.” you hum, shivering at the globs of cum cooling against your stretched cunt, all before you sigh and close your eyes, looking for that sweet sleep.

matsukawa stays up a bit later, giving iwaizumi a quick text- asking if you would ever truly be satisfied, and the response he gets sends a prickle of heat curling against his neck-

fuck her unconscious or else she’ll keep wanting more.

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btsqualityy · 3 years

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I Choose You

Taehyung x Reader

Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, crushes-to-lovers, kind of a soulmate!AU (it’s based on their scents), fluff, and smut

Warnings: Oral sex (Male and female receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, soft Dom!Taehyung, impregnation kink, and creampie

Author’s Note: This fic is based on a prompt from the Spring Fest “Spring Will Come Again” hosted by @bangtanarmynet! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Prompt: Every Spring Fest, the unmated Alphas had to choose a mate but when Taehyung felt a pull, he didn’t expect it to lead to you.

“Come on!” Taehyung whined loudly. “Just tell me!”

“You know that I cannot tell you who is participating in the Mating Ceremony Tae,” Jimin giggled. “It’s against pack rules.”

“Alright, well just give me a clue,” Taehyung tried to bargain. The two of them were sat outside in the territory that belonged to their pack, deciding to enjoy their lunch in the newly nice weather.

“You know, to be an Alpha, you have no sense of patience,” Jimin laughed.

“And for you to be an Omega, you have no sense of loyalty to your best friend,” Taehyung pouted.

“Oh God, he’s pulling out the pouts,” Jimin groaned playfully. “If you’re so impatient about not being able to know who’s participating in the Ceremony beforehand, then why are you even doing it?”

The Mating Ceremony was an age old tradition in Taehyung’s pack that occurred every year, right at the start of the Spring Festival. For people who still believed in soulmates, the Mating Ceremony was an unbiased opportunity for those people to find the one that their soul desired. The Omegas and Betas would gather together, with their faces hidden, and it was up to an Alpha to use only their sense of smell to find the scent that they liked the most.

Of course, a lot of people felt that scents weren’t the only important thing when it came to building the foundation of a relationship as time has passed but it was still an honored and revered tradition nonetheless.

“Besides the fact that literally everyone that I know has found their mate during the Ceremony?” Taehyung huffed. “The fact that I’m almost 26 years old and haven’t found my mate yet.”

“Oh please, you say that as if you’re old and if you’re old, then I’m old,” Jimin said as he rolled his eyes. “And I’m definitely not old.”

“Well, you say that because you’re not alone,” Taehyung pointed out. “My parents found each other 27 years ago, Yoongi hyung found you three years ago, Joon hyung found Aareum the year before that, and hell, even Jin hyung found Jungkookie last year. Too long, didn’t read, I’m gonna die alone if I don’t do it.”

“I feel so bad for your future mate because you are so fucking dramatic,” Jimin laughed as he reached over and stole a French fry off of Taehyung’s plate.

“You’d have time to warn them if you’d just tell me who’s joining this year,” Taehyung tried to persuade him. “Come on, what’s the point in having the Head Omega as your best friend if he doesn’t supply you with useful information?”

“Oh, and here I was thinking that I was your bestfriend because I’m your platonic soulmate,” Jimin scoffed. “Look Tae, the entire point of the Mating Ceremony is to let your heart and your nose do the deciding for you. If I tell you who’s participating and who’s not, it’ll cloud your judgement and then the whole thing will be moot.”

“Ugh, fine Mr. “I wanna be ethical”,” Taehyung sighed as he stood up from the table. “I gotta go and finish up my gift for the Ceremony so I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Pouty Pants,” Jimin giggled as he waved his hand and Taehyung began to walk around the territory. He wasn’t lying when he said that he needed to go finish working on his courting gift, but he figured that it wouldn’t hurt to take a walk around the pack’s territory before he did.

Taehyung’s pack was pretty tight knit, though it was considered to be considerably larger than the other surrounding packs. Even though Taehyung’s family weren’t the ones who founded the pack, his great-great-grandfather was one of the first members to join the pack so Taehyung‘s family line literally had stakes in the very beginning of the pack.

Growing up, Taehyung had been pretty well known around the pack but after he presented as an Alpha, it was as if he were a celebrity. Every unmated Alpha, Beta, and Omega seemed to be after him and admittedly, he had enjoyed the attention for the last few years but now, he was ready to find his mate, settle down, and start a family.

Just as Taehyung walked around the corner that separated the school building and the doctor’s house, he collided with a figure that had literally rushed into him.

“Hey!” Taehyung yelped, gasping when the papers that the person had been holding fell down onto the ground.

“Oh my gosh,” you whispered, bending down and beginning to pick the papers up. Taehyung bent down as well, helping when he realized who you were.

“Y/N?” He called and you looked up at him, your eyes widening when you realize who he was.

“Oh Taehyung, I’m so sorry,” you apologized, bowing your head to him.

“No no no, it’s ok. Don’t worry about it,” he assured you. “Just let me help you with these.”

“I already ran into you, you don’t have to,” you tried to say but Taehyung just cut you off.

“I want to,” he chuckled and you just decided to let it go as the two of you finished picking up all of the fallen papers. Once you were both done, you stood up straight and Taehyung handed the small stack of papers that he had collected over to you.

“So, where were you off to that has you in such a rush?” Taehyung wondered with a smile.

“Well, uh, the start of Spring marks the halfway point in the second half of the schoolyear for the pups so I was in a rush to get their progress reports finished,” you explained and Taehyung couldn’t help but to smile at how shy you still seemed to be around him.

The two of you knew of each other from around the pack and you went to school together, being as though the two of you were born in the same year. Because of that, you both had a lot of mutual friends but the two of you never hung out much because you were really shy and seemed almost scared of Taehyung so he always made sure to give you your space.

“Ah, you do work in the school building,” he chuckled.

“With the seven to nine year olds,” you smiled.

“I remember, I remember,” he nodded. “Well, besides that, how are you?”

“Good, good,” you replied. “Busy as ever this time of year, but good. How about yourself?”

“I’m good, just preparing for the Spring Festival, ” he told her.

“Oh, are you doing the Mating Ceremony this year?” You asked and he nodded his head.

“Are you?”

“I’ve never done it before and I don’t think I’ll start now,” you giggled. “It’s not really my thing.”

“What, finding your soulmate isn’t your thing?” Taehyung teased.

“No, I meant that not being picked by anyone wouldn’t be my thing,” you clarified.

“Oh please, somebody would definitely choose you,” Taehyung said. “I know that we don’t talk much but anyone can see that you’re a good woman and a great Omega. I bet that any Alpha would be proud to have you be their mate.”

“Oh,” you uttered in surprise, and Taehyung couldn’t help but to feel a little sense of pride at how flustered he had made you. “T-Thank you Taehyung.”

“You’re welcome,” he grinned.

“W-Well, I have to go,” you murmured. “See you around?”

“Yeah, see you,” Taehyung agreed but he didn’t know if you’d even heard him because you were already walking, almost running, away from him.

.....................................

Even though the Spring Fest was being held during the first week of April, Taehyung had made the decision that he’d be participating back in December of the previous year and this was because he wanted to make sure he had enough time to prepare his courting gift. A courting gift would show his future mate that he was serious about them so it took Taehyung a lot of thought to decide what he wanted to give his future mate. In the end though, it was actually Taehyung’s mother who helped him.

He off-handedly mentioned that he was trying to figure out a gift and she ended up giving him his great-grandmother’s engagement ring. It was a ruby that sat on a nest of gold diamonds, with a gold band to accompany it. Taehyung was familiar with it because it was a family heirloom and he was so honored that his mother trusted him with it.

When the first day of the Spring Fest arrived, Taehyung made sure that the ring box was nestled safely in the pocket of his slacks before he checked his appearance in the mirror. Wanting to look his best, he settled on a button up dress shirt that was a deep maroon color and paired it with black slacks. He added a few simple accessories like a few rings on both hands and earrings but he skipped any necklaces or bracelets, wanting to makes sure that nothing would get in the way of someone being able to smell his scent.

“Let’s go find our mate,” Taehyung whispered to himself, making sure to fix his hair one last time before hurrying up and rushing out of the front door of his house.

The Mating Ceremony was to be held in the large flower garden that was towards the back of the pack’s territory. The logic behind it was that finding your soulmate amongst beautiful things would help your relationship with said soulmate be beautiful as well.

When Taehyung got there, he immediately spotted Jin and Jungkook sitting together on a bench so he walked over to them.

“Hi Tae hyung!” Jungkook greeted him happily.

“Hi,” Taehyung replied. “You guys came for moral support?”

“You know it,” Jin nodded. “You look really good Tae-ah.”

“Ready to find your soulmate?” Jungkook wondered.

“Thank you, and hopefully,” Taehyung sighed heavily. “I’m so nervous.”

“Don’t worry hyung, all you have to do is trust your nose,” Jungkook told him.

“Kook’s right, you know our senses will never purposefully lead us wrong,” Jin added.

“Thanks for the advice guys,” Taehyung chuckled, reaching out and ruffling Jungkook’s hair a little. Suddenly, a voice erupted over the loud speakers that had been placed around the garden.

“The Mating Ceremony is about to commence,” the voice that Taehyung recognized as Jimin announced. “If you are offering a gift, please get into position.”

“Well, that’s my cue,” Taehyung said.

“Relax and don’t worry,” Jin advised him. “Just...let it happen.”

“Ok,” Taehyung nodded before turning around and walking over to a large wall of white roses. Falling into line with several other Alphas and Betas who were also participating in the Ceremony, he waited with baited breath as another line of Omegas and Betas stepped into the garden and walked over to stand right in front of the wall of roses.

Every Omega or Beta had a veil or mask over their face so that they couldn’t be seen, and their own choice of outfit but most of them were dressed pretty formally, just like Taehyung was.

“Alphas and Betas who are presenting gifts, you know the rules,” Jimin spoke up again. “No sneaking a peek at anybody until you offer them your gift and they actually accept it, no trying to force your gift upon anyone who makes it clear that they do not want it, and trust your instincts! Happy finding!”

Taehyung then closed his eyes, taking a deep inhale in order to smell the air around him. He picked up a few scents here and there, with hints of chocolate and mint but none of them especially stuck out to them. He then opened his eyes and they slightly widened when he saw some of the Alphas and Betas already offering gifts to some of the Betas and Omegas who had been waiting. He had to admit, it kind of shocked him because it was seemingly so simple for them but not for him. Deciding to follow everyone’s advice and trust his senses, he shut his eyes again and took another deep breath it, and that was when he smelled it.

The initial wave that hit his nose was reminiscent of tangerines, and then that was mixed with the scent of berries that seemed to almost intermingle with the tangerine scent. Those were two very typical scents, especially for Omegas, but what really caught Taehyung’s attention was the scent of pink champagne. It was something that he had never smelt in a scent before and before he could even realize it, he was moving towards the source of the scent.

When he realized that he had stepped up to the person that the scent belonged to, he took a second to look over them. It seemed to be a woman, who had on a flowing white dress along with a small matching white veil. Taehyung reached out and extended his wrist towards their nose for them to be able to smell his scent clearly and when the woman let out an appreciative hum, Taehyung’s heart clenched because this was it. He had found the one.

Taehyung reached into his pocket and took out the ring box, extending it towards the woman. The woman then reached out and took the box from it, a soft giggle coming from her as she did so.

“Thank you,” the woman said and Taehyung’s eyes widened because he recognized the voice, he just couldn’t remember where from. When the woman reached up and lifted the veil back from her face, Taehyung wanted to kick himself for not immediately recognizing who the voice came from.

“Hi,” you smiled.

.....................................

“I cannot believe that I didn’t know that it was you,” Taehyung huffed.

“Well, that’s kind of the point Taehyung,” you giggled from your spot on his bed. After the ceremony had ended, Taehyung invited you back to his house so that the two of you could have some alone time.

“I just didn’t expect this,” he said as he sat down next to you.

“Are you...upset that I’m your mate?” You asked wearily and Taehyung immediately shook his head.

“No!” He exclaimed. “Even though we don’t talk much, I know that you’re amazing. Hell, Jungkook raves about you all the time. I also meant what I said the other day.”

“W-Well, that’s good,” you replied shyly. “By the way, I’m sorry for not talking to you much over the years.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” he shrugged. “I just figured that you were shy and I don’t mind that.”

“It wasn’t shyness, though,” you blurted and his eyebrows rose.

“Really?”

“The truth is, I’ve had a crush on you since you presented,” you confessed.

“Y/N, that was almost 10 years ago,” he gasped in surprise. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I never thought that I had a chance,” You chuckled. “For years, every unmated Omega and Beta and even some Alphas have been after you. When you look at them and then look at me, I’m not as interesting or as beautiful when compared to them. I don’t know, I just don’t think that I measure up.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Taehyung admonished you. “You’re gorgeous Y/N-ah, and the sweetest person I know.”

“Really?” You deadpanned.

“Absolutely,” he nodded. He could tell that you didn’t believe him though, so he decided to be honest. “You wanna know something?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve had a crush on you too,” he admitted, making your eyes widen. “Not for as long as you have, but at least two years. I just never made a move because you seemed so shy around me and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable because I figured that you just weren’t interested.”

“Seriously?” You gasped and he nodded. “We’re a big pair of idiots then, huh?”

“Definitely,” he laughed as he reached over and grabbed both of your hands in his. “It’s a good thing that we both decided to participate in the Ceremony then, huh?”

“Another confession? I only joined because I was hoping that my Omega would be able to say to your Alpha what I’ve never been able to bring myself to say aloud,” you told him.

“And what is that?”

“That I want to be with you, Kim Taehyung,” you replied. Taehyung felt his Alpha preen at your confession and it wasn’t that Taehyung had doubted the validity of the Ceremony but actually being able to feel the connection between the two of you only solidified everything for him.

“I want to be with you too Y/N L/N,” he smiled. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you giggled and Taehyung let go of your hands to set his hands on your cheeks, leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss began soft at first, the both of you feeling a little nervous since this whole thing was so new.

It wasn’t until you laid back on the bed, pulling Taehyung down along with you that the two of you became more comfortable, you opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to slide against yours. Taehyung set his hand on your thigh, gently tracing random shapes with his fingertips as you kissed each other passionately.

“Y/N, I have to ask you something,” he murmured and you pulled away from his lips to look up at him.

“What is it?”

“Are you a virgin?” He wondered and you felt your cheeks warm up immediately. “I’m not trying to be intrusive or anything, I just want to know so that I can gauge how comfortable you are.”

“Do you remember when I dated Xiumin?” You asked him and he rolled his eyes.

“That dickhead? Yeah,” he huffed.

“I lost my virginity to him.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m in love with that piece of information,” he admitted.

“I only dated him because I was trying to get over you, which sounds really bad when I say it out loud,” you laughed. “That was around the same time that you were dating Jisoo.”

“Ah,” he said as he set his fingertips over your lips to silence you. “We don’t mention that forbidden name.”

“Ok, sorry,” you giggled.

“So, if I told you that I want to have sex with you tonight,” Taehyung began, making your lower half clench around nothing. “Would you want to?”

“Yes,” you rushed out. “I want to.”

“Good, because I want to too,” he smiled before leaning down and kissing you again. You moaned into his mouth when he moved over so that he was on top of you, his lips never leaving yours as he did so. He then trailed his lips downwards, licking and sucking on the skin of your neck.

“Ohh,” you sighed in pleasure, reaching down and tangling your fingers in his hair. Taehyung pulled away and reached up to grab your hands, untangling them from his hair and holding your wrists firmly when he placed them back down on the bed above your head, holding them there.

“You keep these here for me, ok?” He asked and you could tell from his tone that he was both asking for permission and clarification.

“Ok,” you whispered and he smiled.

“Perfect Omega,” he murmured as he went back to kissing your neck and you had to clasp your hands together because you were too tempted to reach down and touch him again. After he had left a few marks on your neck, he brought his hands up and grabbed onto your breasts which made you gasp.

“As beautiful as this dress is Y/N-ah, I think we should take it off now. Yeah?” Taehyung suggested and you nodded your head rapidly. He moved off of you so that you could sit up and he moved around the bed on his knees so that he was behind you. He reached out and pulled down the zipper on your dress, and you reached up and pulled the dress down off of your shoulders. Once your arms were out of it, you got up onto your knees and pushed it down your legs and onto the floor.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous Y/N-ah,” he muttered huskily as he took in the sight of you in your stark white bralette and white lace panties. Your Omega preened at his praise, making your cheeks warm up.

“Really?”

“Really,” he smiled, moving back around your body and leaning down so that he was face to face with your breasts as he reached out to grab ahold of them. “I’m so fucking lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” you whispered as he pulled the material of the bralette to the side, causing both of your breasts to fall out. Without another word, he leaned forward and sucked your nipple into his mouth. You couldn’t help but to fall back on the bed, Taehyung falling along without a problem and not letting up on the onslaught that was his tongue.

Once your nipple had stiffened to a peak, he switched over to your other nipple and gave it the same treatment. You could smell your scent from in between your thighs, the notes of berries and pink champagne becoming stronger and stronger the wetter you became.

You knew Taehyung could smell you too, because you could feel the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh.

“Fuck, Alpha,” you whimpered. “Wanna suck you off.”

“Whatever you want baby,” he agreed easily after pulling his mouth away from you, sitting up and reaching down to unbutton his slacks. You sat up, watching with hooded eyes as he unzipped them, pushing them down a little bit so that he was able to pull out his cock and your mouth literally watered at the sight of it.

Taehyung’s cock wasn’t enormous, but it was definitely longer than average and it looked to be thick. You reached out and wrapped both of your hands around his length, and you felt yourself become wetter when you realized that you couldn’t even wrap your hands around him completely.

“Fuck, I can smell you baby,” he grumbled and you moaned softly at the pet name. “Do you like what you see?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. He exhaled harshly, looking down to watch as you did your best to take as much of him in your mouth as possible. You actually managed to do pretty good, doing your best to breathe through your nose as you sunk down closer and closer to the base of his cock.

“Oh fuck,” he huffed. “Such a good girl, taking Alpha’s cock down your throat.” Bringing your hands back up, you stacked both of them on top of each other as you jerked him off while suckling on the head of his cock.

“God, that feels good. Makes me want to fuck your throat,” he grumbled. “You gonna let me do that one day baby? Gonna let Alpha use your mouth?”

“Mmm, yes Alpha,” you gasped after releasing him from your mouth, your spit acting as lube as you continued to jerk him off.

“Fuck, lay down for me,” he instructed you. “I have to taste you.” You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions, laying back on the bed and resting on your forearms as you watched him push his slacks and boxers down and off his legs before he moved onto unbuttoning his shirt.

He wasn’t overly muscular but you could still see the outline of what would be a six-pack, and your inner Omega loved the fact that your Alpha would be able to protect you if need be.

Taehyung laid down on his front in between your legs, pulling your panties to the side before leaning forward and licking a stripe up your pussy, from your slit up to your clit. You gasped, your thighs involuntarily coming to together but Taehyung’s hands came up to push them back down.

“Be still and let me make you come baby,” he whispered and you nodded numbly. He then went back to licking at you, making you whine and squirm underneath him.

“Huh, holy shit,” you gasped, your chest beginning to move up and down quickly as your orgasm approached you. “Please don’t stop Tae.”

“Mmm,” he moaned against you, shaking his head back and forth over your clit which made his tongue do the same.

“Do that again,” you requested and he obliged you, shaking his head back and forth rapidly and you felt your orgasm winding to it’s end in your abdomen. “Fuck yes, I’m gonna come.” Your head fell back onto the bed and just as you closed your eyes and felt yourself about to tip over the edge into ecstasy, Taehyung pulled away from you.

“What?” You whimpered as you opened your eyes, looking down at him.

“I want you to come on my knot,” he told you. He reached out and grabbed the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs and throwing them onto the floor. He then settled himself in between your thighs, leaning down and letting his cock rub against your clit.

“If you want me to come on your knot, you shouldn’t do that,” you whimpered.

“You could come like this?” He wondered in awe and you nodded your head. “We’re gonna have to test that out one day.”

“We have the rest of our lives for that,” you promised him.

“You got that right,” he smiled, moving his hips so that he could slide inside of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands gripping onto his arms as he slowly opened you up.

“Fuh, fuck,” you stuttered, your eyes fluttering closed at how good he felt inside of you, stretching you out in the best way.

“God, you’re so tight but you’re opening up so well for me baby,” Taehyung grunted, making sure to push his hips as close to yours as he could so that he could go as deep as possible. “You really are my mate, huh?”

“Yes,” you whispered, your mind barely being able to comprehend his words because the feeling of being completely and utterly clouded all of your senses. He continued to roll his hips against yours, his cock dragging against your walls as he did.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this, how much I’ve thought about this,” he muttered. “I’d see you walking around the territory all shy, keeping your eyes low so that people wouldn’t approach you and all I could think about was that you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and how much I wanted to fuck you with my knot.”

“Mmm, knot,” you slurred, making Taehyung smile because of course knot was the word that you caught.

“I’d watch you with the pups, teaching them and being so gentle and patient with them and my only thought would be about how I wanted to fuck some pups of my own into you so that you could be their mother,” he groaned, his hips stuttering slightly when he felt your walls clench around him like a vice grip. “Oh, you want that? Want Alpha to give you some pups?”

“Fuck yes,” you moaned wantonly, moving your own hips so that you were fucking back onto him. “Want your cum, want a pup.”

“I’ll give it to you baby,” he swore as he began to fuck you faster. “Alpha will give you anything you want.”

“W-want you,” you whined as you felt your orgasm quickly building back up again.

“You have me baby,” he chuckled deeply. “You always have, I think.”

“A-alpha, g-gonna c-c-come,” you managed to utter as your body moved up and down the bed, the force of Taehyung fucking you literally moving you on the bed.

“Go ahead so that I can knot you gorgeous,” he encouraged you. You reached down and set your fingertips on your clit, only managing to make two circles on it before you were coming. Your thighs spasmed and clutched around Taehyung’s waist, the rest of your body shaking on the bed from how forceful your orgasm was.

“T-Tae,” you whimpered, your body shivering even after the crest of your orgasm had passed. Taehyung leaned down, pressing soft kisses against your face that were in stark contrast to how he was still fucking you.

“So good for me baby,” he whispered. “Came so prettily for me.”

“Kiss me,” you pleaded weakly and he just smiled at you before pressing his lips against yours. The force coming from how hard he was thrusting into you caused your mouth to fall open and Taehyung didn’t hesitate to stick his tongue inside, exploring around.

You literally felt his cock pulse inside of you and before you could pull away in order to ask, ropes of his cum flooded into you. His knot inflated immediately afterwards, making you moan as it forced its’ way inside of you.

“Holy shit Y/N-ah,” he panted as he hid his face in your neck, collapsing on top of you. “I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.”

“Me either,” you admitted with a giggle. “I loved it though.”

“Me too,” he muttered as he pulled himself up so that he could look down at you. “I know this is probably a weird thing to ask given what we just got finished doing, but you accept the fact that you’re my mate right?”

“Tae, of course,” you smiled. “My Omega would hate me if I rejected you and you know our wolf side doesn’t lie.”

“I guess I just wanted to know if it was as strong for you as it was for me,” he mumbled and you placed your hands on his cheeks, making him look down at you.

“You’re my mate Kim Taehyung,” you told him. “I knew it and felt it the moment that you gave me your wrist and I smelled your scent.”

“I knew it too,” he smiled. “I’ll give you your bite in the morning, I’m just too tired right now.”

“No complaints from me,” you laughed. “Coming so hard can definitely take a lot out of a person.” Taehyung then laid his head down on your chest and you reached up, setting your hands in his hair as you began to play with the sweaty strands.

“I’m so glad that my Alpha chose you,” he muttered sleepily and you could feel the goofy smile spread onto your face before you leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

“Me too Tae,” you sighed in contentment. “Me too.”

#BAspringwillcome #bangtanarmynet #bts #bts taehyung #bts v #abo bts #taehyung x reader #v x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #v smut #v angst #v fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader

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ajaxeology · 2 years

Text

Second Life

Summary: Reincarnation!AU. They meet you again in the next lifetime.

Word Count: about 0.9k-1.0k for each character

Pairing(s): Kazuha, Xiao, Albedo, Thoma x gn!reader (separate)

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

c/w: slight inazuma archon quest spoilers, people being a little rough

note: Inspired by @/almondoufu's fic here + SEVENTEEN's Second Life (lyrics credit to this link as well!)

혼자 남겨진 어느 날의 내가 또 널 향해 발걸음을 떼어 너의 두 눈에 내 얼굴 보일 때 세상이 멈춘 듯 너를 끌어안고서

On a sudden day when I’m left alone I’ll take my steps towards you again When I see my face in your two eyes As if the world has stopped, I will hug you

Kazuha pushes on his hair tie, tightening his ponytail. The fan sitting atop the counter is at full blast but it does nothing to get rid of the heat that clings to his bare skin.

Out of everything he’s done, he often wonders why he decided to open a shaved ice stall at the scorching beach as a means to search for you. “Everyone goes to the beach during summer at some point right?”, Tomo reasoned.

He takes comfort in the fact that he’s tasked with making the shaved ice at the counter in the hut while Tomo does the actual serving to the customers.

But thanks to Tomo’s over-enthusiastic service, he had to rest at home due to overexertion. This leaves Kazuha to get through the whole weekend on his own.

His first customers start coming in before lunch. With how hectic things are getting, he feels blood rush into his head, making the heat a hundred times more unpleasant. He’s never understood how the heat makes people do crazy things that he sees. But he does when he has to resist the urge to dunk a bowl of shaved ice with pink syrup over his head.

Due to the traffic at his shop, he doesn’t realise it’s you when he takes your order. You sit at one of the tables near the counter with another male, who Kazuha dismisses as your date.

Placing the bowl on your table without looking at either of you, he says without thinking, “[name], here’s your order.”

“Thanks, Kazuha.”

Only when he returns back to the machine, does he realise that he’s said your name and that you’ve said his name. But he doesn’t remember telling you his name. He turns back to you to see you shaking your head to your date. You shift your gaze to him, his eyes catching yours until you look away.

Jealousy churns in his chest and he hits the button of the ice machine a little too hard. He tests the button again using the next bowl and feels relief when the machine still works. Tomo would be mad if he destroyed the machine.

Throughout your time there, he steals glances at you whenever he can. He notices you fiddling your fingers under the table, flexing and curling your fingers up. You’re looking out towards the ocean or the back of the hut every now and then.

Kazuha senses incoming trouble, but he only keeps his eye on you as he goes about with his business. He laments how he’s right when your date slams his palms on the table.

Your date accuses, “You know him, don’t you?”

This time, you don’t deny it but you don’t confirm it either.

“Jeez, you didn’t have to play with my feelings like that…”

His voice trails off and he mumbles, “No wonder your friends have to set up blind dates for you.”

You stand up to retort back. But Kazuha shifts himself in front of you, using the back of his arm to nudge you behind him.

“If you’re going to be unruly in my shop, please take your leave. I’d prefer if you let my customers eat in peace.”

Your date does a visual sweep of the vicinity to see people staring at him and he doesn’t wait long to turn tail.

People start peeling their eyes off from the little scene. Kazuha turns back and asks, “Are you alright?”

You nod, avoiding eye contact with him and rubbing the nape of your neck. He waits for you to say something, but you don’t. Another customer calls for him and he’s forced to leave your side. It’s only a few minutes that he’s taken his eyes off you, but you’ve left.

He’s a little disheartened that you don’t remember him. Maybe a little disappointed by the fact you didn’t even ask him why he knew your name. But he doesn’t have time to ponder about it with the floods of people that stream into the beach.

Business only slows when the sun starts to set, its warm orange rays spilling into the stall through the windows. Kazuha slumps down on one of the chairs exhaling as he thinks about the day. The sound of footsteps reverberates in the hut. His back faces the entrance of the hut and he musters whatever energy he has left to stand up. With a polite tone, he says, “I’m sorry, we’re close-”

His voice lodges in his throat when he turns around to see you.

A little out of breath, you say, “Do you think we’ve met each other?”

He blinks several times at you.

He chuckles, “Perhaps so. Shall we find out?”

Kazuha opens his arms and you leap into the embrace without second thoughts. Your face in the crook of his neck, skin-to-skin, gives him a sense of home.

“So, what’s your answer, [name]?”

“I don’t know why, but I do. I know you.”

You pull away, furrowing your brows. You lean in towards him, closing your eyes. Your face hovers in front of his but you don’t move any closer. It’s not close enough for a kiss, but Kazuha is uncertain if you’re asking for one. He realises you aren’t when he hears faint sniffing.

Before he says anything, you open your eyes.

“First of all, you work at the beach but you don’t smell like the sea. Second, that smell of dried leaves…”

Kazuha makes out a tint of pink on your cheeks and he has to resist the urge to tease you. You stutter out, “It… makes me feel loved.”

나에게 두 번째 삶이 온다면 아마도 지금과는 다르게 살아가고 숨 쉬겠지만 모른 채 지날 거리 속에 우린 서로를 기억하기를 그다음 생에도 그때도 너에게로

If I am given a second life I may live and breathe differently compared to now Among the streets we’ll walk past each other without knowing I hope we remember each other Even in our next life Even at that time, I’ll go to you

The only time Xiao remembers crying was when he was six, when he lost a memoir that he treasured very much. But lately, he’s been waking up with tear-stained cheeks. He wakes up with his hand outstretched for something, but he doesn’t know what.

He can never recall what happened in his dream. He can’t recall what makes his heart ache.

As he goes about his day, the pang in his chest subsides. Though each time, there is a part of him that grasps at it as it’s about to slip away. It feels important. It feels as if it's the only remaining connection he has to something important that he’s forgotten. Someone important.

As per normal, he takes the same route to work. He’s pretty sure he’s got onto this very same train for almost his entire work life. As usual, he detaches himself from the reality of packed crowds on the train by playing his game on his phone. Except after a while, he takes his eyes off his phone screen and views the scenery outside of the window.

He doesn’t take his eyes away from the glass window of the doors even when the train pulls into a station. Past the door, he sees you staring wide-eyed at him. You stand dazed in the middle of the sea of the crowd, almost pushed away by its waves. Only when the beep of the train doors go off, do you snap out of your trance and bolt towards him.

Feet moving on its own, Xiao finds himself shuffling towards the closing train door. His palms push flat on the glass window and he cranes his neck around to try to catch a glimpse of you as the train pulls out.

Xiao never runs as of late. He only runs on that one occasion he’s almost late for work. But in the next station, he darts out of the train like a bullet out of a gun. He let his feet lead and they choose to take the direction opposite of his workplace. He forgot the speed he could reach and the familiarity of the wind that brushes through his hair.

He slows down when he sees you running towards him. Both of you slow your pace outside a Liyuean restaurant, stopping with some distance between two. A whole barrage of emotions hit him. It bothers him that he doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way. It scares him.

Both of you look at each other, neither of you taking the first step forward. The world remains in a trance. He decides he should act nonchalant and walk past you. But you drop to your knees, breathing heavy. He takes a step towards you out of concern.

You ask between pants, “Xiao, have you been taking this same route to work every day? Archons, I've been passing your station every single day.”

He halts. Narrowing his eyes at you, he chooses not to answer. He’s sure few people get asked about their job during their first meeting. You’re starting to get a little suspicious.

You chuckle, “As distant as you used to be, huh?”

He’s sure that he hasn’t met you in his entire life to warrant such a statement. Having steadied your breath, you stand up to talk to him.

“I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve said this, but we met a long time ago. Even before this era.”

Your eyes don’t leave his face and he feels you searching his soul.

You sigh, “You don’t remember again.”

He walks away, partly thinking you’re a looney. But his feet get heavier with each step he takes. Footsteps approach him and a hand circles around his wrist. Your fingers touch his wrist as if they’re fragile antique, as if it could crack if you put too much force into your grip.

“‘If you awake to a knife at your throat, if monsters dig their claws into you, if death comes knocking at your door, call out my name. Adeptus Xiao. I will be here when you call.’”

It’s as if you’ve taken words out of Xiao’s mouth, even if they feel foreign to him. He turns back to look at you, longing swirling in your eyes.

“‘Once the snow is thick enough, we can eat it.’”

A tranquil and intimate silence falls upon the two of you. In the twinkling of an eye, nobody else matters. Not the wailing child in the distance. Not the guy who stared at the both of you as he walked past. Not the sun that hangs in the sky. The moment feels more eternal than the sun could ever be.

“Are you telling me I said these?”

You nod. Xiao realises his disbelief is all over his face when you let out a hearty laugh. He hurries to wipe his emotion off his face.

A bittersweet smile graces your lips. You mumble with affection laced in your voice, “Some things about you never change.”

Outstretching your hands, you suggest, “I’ll buy you a plate of almond tofu. In exchange, give me your time and I’ll convince you. Again and again, if that’s what I’ll do.”

It’s the first time you’ve held his hand, but it fits right in yours. Your hands tell him that he is safe with you. Just maybe, your hands were the ones that he’s been reaching for in his sleep.

We’re already beautiful 우리라서 좋은 건 아무런 말 필요 없이 바라보는 눈빛 손짓

We’re already beautiful I like it because it’s us No words are necessary The gaze, the touch

Albedo contemplates the dream he had for several nights, including last night. What else could he do on a drive to an important meeting anyway?

He was in Dragonspine with someone else. The paths were way more beaten than he had remembered the last time he visited. He wore a short-sleeved coat, which he thought was insane despite his tolerance to the cold. He held a sketchbook in one hand while his other hand held someone else’s gloved hands. They’re wrapped in layers of warm clothing, their movements stiff. He can only recall their eyes no matter how many times he tries. When he said something that he doesn’t remember, his partner laughed. But he doesn’t remember what it sounds like.

The wooden planks on the path beneath his feet rattled. Looking up, he saw boulders tumbling down and before he could react, he heard a shrill scream. The ground beneath his partner collapsed. The world around him seemed to slow (which he thinks is the result of his dream being dramatic) as they fell backwards.

Albedo manages to grab one of their hands and pulls them into his embrace. The chilly updraft buffeted him, making it difficult for him to open his eyes. Whenever he could, he looked for a way to lighten the fall.

He felt them shivering in his arms, a hushed admission of fear almost escaping his ears. Relaxing the hold of one of his hands and tightening the other, he cradles the back of their head.

Albedo thinks for a split second that he’s a fool for taking his mind off the surroundings. But he remembers that he doesn’t mind taking the full impact of the fall.

He closes his eyes and strokes their head. Jean once told him words of reassurance, while it doesn't directly address the situation, it does wonders.

So, he says, “It’ll be alright.”

His butler wakes him up before he finds out whether he found a way to soften the landing. On one hand, it would be difficult with the terrain from what he had remembered. Yet. he is confident in his capabilities.

The car comes to a sudden halt. His subordinates apologise and scramble out of the car. Albedo doesn’t pay any mind to the commotion outside of his car until it takes longer than he expects.

He steps out of the car to see his henchman’s hand reaching for his gun from his pocket. You pull a small boy closer towards yourself. Slowly shifting, you position yourself between the boy and his subordinate. Your hand moves up to the back of the boy’s head. The same way Albedo cradled his special someone's head in the dream.

With a firm tone, he orders, “Stop. There’s no need to point your weapon at them.”

“But sir, they’re the child of the other group that’s been opposing us.”

Albedo puts his hand up and his subordinate keeps his mouth shut. Some unrest swims in his chest from protecting you. He could very well use you to threaten the boss of the other mafia. But he doesn’t take back his order.

A frazzled woman stumbles over to you and you let her pull the boy towards her. She introduces herself as the boy’s mother between sobs and apologises for the trouble her son has caused. She drops to the ground and pleads for Albedo to let them off.

He does. When they leave, Albedo puts his hand out to you. His henchmen shriek and protest against him doing that, but he doesn’t withdraw his hand.

Surprisingly without hesitation, you take his hand. A jolt of electricity runs up his arms and he stumbles backwards. You too pull your hand back as if you’ve touched boiling water.

Albedo hers his henchmen gasp and he steadies himself before his henchmen decide to threaten you.

He looks at you to find the same look of realisation.

You outstretch your hands and he walks closer to you. Your fingers touch at the bottom of his neck and you don’t tear your eyes away from the spot. In the faint reflection of your eyes, he sees a four-pointed star on the spot that you’re touching.

His fingers start to trace the skin above your ears. When he closes his eyes, he feels the rough texture of a stalk in his hand as he tucks the flower behind your ear. When he opens them, there’s no flower there, but the laugh that you let out is all the same.

Both of you are breathless from the waves of memories that he’s not sure if you should be having.

He dismisses his henchmen and tells them to clear out his schedule for the rest of the day. There’s a puzzled look on their face that screams “Is this our boss?” in capital letters.

Everyone in town knows the stone-cold Albedo. So cold he can make chills run down even his right-hand man’s spine. A look of softness in the tundra of Albedo’s eyes is ever so foreign and they don’t know if they can get used to it.

Regardless, his orders are absolute. They make themselves scarce in a matter of seconds. But it doesn’t take long for him to realise they might tail him.

He says out loud, to seemingly nobody, “If I see anyone from our group, I am cutting off all your fingers.”

He hears scurrying and he knows they’ve left.

Still having not spoken, you chuckle as you hook your pinky around his. Both of your feet start moving in the same direction. You wrap your fingers around his one by one until your fingers intertwine.

He doesn’t want to speak. Words feel too heavy for this delicate bubble of a paradise he’s indulging in. You raise one eyebrow at him, knowing there’s something on his mind he wants to say.

If you’ve come back to him, he can always have more moments like this in the future.

He finally says, with a straight face, “Your father will be livid.”

나에게 두 번째 지금과 다른 삶이 와도 딱 한 가지 말할 수 있는 건 난 네 옆에 있을 거란 것

Even if a second life That’s different from now comes to me The one thing I can say is That I’m going to be by your side

In the silent museum of the night, the whirring of the door to the exhibition room tethers on becoming a sign of his presence. But Thoma knows that he is safe from security. He’s got the floor plans of the entire museum and the patrol routes of the security guards memorised. Even if an anomaly occurs, he knows he got what it takes to escape.

Faint moonlight scatters into the exhibition room through the glass ceiling. He’s about to approach the painting when he hears shifting and footsteps above him. A figure descends towards the prized painting located at the centre of the room. They shift themselves around in the air as if they’re dodging invisible obstacles.

The bits of moonlight shine on parts of your attire. It doesn’t take him long for him to realise you’re the most famous jewel thief around. He doesn’t know why a jewel thief would come hanging around an art museum and he’d appreciate some answers for crashing his heist. He takes a few steps towards you, loud enough to catch only your attention.

You shift your visor up your forehead and lock your eyes with him when you turn to him.

An image of an older Inazuma City flashes his mind. He sees a person with the same pair of eyes walk towards him at the harbour of what he supposes is olden Ritou.

When he pulls himself back to the present, he notices that you’ve stopped too. You blink several times.

He knows it’s risky because the more he remains on this site, the higher the probability of him getting caught. No, he still has some time. He asks, “What’s the most infamous jewel thief of Inazuma City doing in an art museum?”

Still swinging in the air on your rope, you giggle, “Sorry for crashing your party. This is a special commission.”

You slide your visor back on and continue to descend.

Thoma takes a few more steps forward. A tone of annoyance in his voice, he says, “Hey, that’s my-”

The sirens blare and he hears you curse under your breath. You drop down to the floor and proceed to drape a large cloth over the artwork. You pull the knot of the cloth tight, shoving the painting onto him right after.

He hoists the painting on his back and doesn’t have time to react when you tie your rope around his waist.

“Drop it down immediately after you reach the top.”

You tug on it and Thoma finds himself yanked up to the roof. His heart skips a beat from the sudden movement, but he gets himself together to throw you the rope. Not long later, you get up onto the roof.

You stretch out your hand and he stands up, shifting his weight around the ball of his feet to balance himself. Without waiting for him to steady himself, you pull his hand and run.

For someone inexperienced in running around roofs, he thinks he’s doing a good job not falling. That’s until you approach the end of the roof with increasing speed and he realises you’re going to jump off to the adjacent building.

His grip on your hand tightens as both of you leap.

In his mind, he recalls a memory he didn’t know he had. He has his arms around you as he jumps off a wooden platform into the grass.

He almost trips on a tile on one of the roofs and you chide at him to get his act together.

When you feel that you’re out of the radar of the security, you finally stop running. You let go of his hand as he drops to his knees and tries to calm his hammering heart.

You quip, “I see that the most infamous art thief sucks with roofs.”

“Look, I may be fast, but no one’s taught me how to manoeuvre around high places.”

He gives you a pointed look before he hangs his head to catch his breath again. A smile creeps up onto his face, but he suppresses it so you don’t see it.

You keep quiet for a long while such that he gets concerned. He’s about to look up to you, but your hand cups his chin to tilt his head up. His breath hitches in his throat.

Using your free hand, you peel his mask off his face. His ponytail falls out of it and strands of his hair flutter in the wind. The cold midnight breeze runs its fingers through Thoma’s hair.

You pull your mask off and he sees your glazed over eyes.

He remembers a tender kiss in old Inazuma City and your flowing tears that touch his cheek. When you pull away from that kiss, he sees faint tear stains down your cheek and he wipes them away with his thumb. Before he lets your hand go, he kisses your hand and he recalls mouthing a silent wish against it for your return.

It doesn’t take him long to hold your hand in his and he presses his lips onto your knuckles. As if the wind has turned down its howling for him, he asks in a hushed tone. Only for you to hear.

“Will you… let me be your partner in crime?”

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quindolyn · 3 years

Note

hi love! I’m in love w ur blog, Could u do a marauders smut w an obedient sub james and a bratty sun reader and like punishment w dom remus and james? (sorry if that was confusing)

She’ll Never Learn || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 3612

A/N: I kinda like this piece, we’ll see. In the course of writing this piece I was delayed a good hour because my laptop died on me and I broke my charging cable earlier today so that’s a whole shit show and I had to finish this on my school computer. That’s how much I love you guys. And a special thank you to everyone who bullied me, I still procrastinated for another 1-2 hours after that.

Warnings: face slapping, words like stupid and slut used, male penetration, exhibitionist kink, dom/sub, degradation, poly obviously, i’m tired please tell me if there’s any that I missed

Masterlist

Part 2

The fact you couldn’t do it was half the fun. For you anyways, the whole thing seemed to make James nervous, he’d broken a few rules here and there before but never had he been so conscious of the disobedience he was about to take part in.

“Our Daddies are gonna be mad if they catch us,” James grumbled as you pulled him up the staircase to the boy’s dorm, dragging him by the sleeve of his school issued button-up.

Had he put up any resistance he would’ve easily been able to cease your assent up the staircase, his body strong and toned from Quidditch but he didn’t, he allowed himself to be pulled up the stairs to the dorm room he shared with Sirius and Remus.

“Well neither of them have to know, now do they?” You asked him as you opened the door to their dorm which they kept tidy for you, knowing that you couldn’t stand mess.

As you kicked the door closed behind you and toed off your shoes you caught a glimpse of the boy’s face as he studied your form unabashedly as you started expertly undoing the buttons on your top before shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it pool at your feet.

“Come on Jamie,” You cooed mockingly as you strode towards him, his eyes glued to your breasts, “If they don’t know about this then we can have fun, it’s so hard with them sometimes isn’t it, with them getting in the way?” You watched his Adam’s apple bob as you played with the scarlet material of his tie, teasingly tugging on it.

“But if they find out-”

You cut him off by pulling him down by his tie, melding your lips with his, though he was considerably taller than you he bent all the way down to kiss you, becoming pliable in your hands as you ran your fingers through his raven tresses.

Lacing your hands together at the back of his head, interweaving your fingers with his fluffy curls you pulled slightly, resulting in the man’s mouth to open as a gentle groan tumbled from his lips. You smirked into the kiss, knowing that you had won as you backed yourself up towards one of the beds in the room, you allowed yourself to sit when your knees bumped up against the mattress.

“Want this off,” You muttered, clumsily working on undoing his tie until you were able to pull it off of him. “This too,” You said, already starting on the top button of his shirt.

Having pushed the pesky garment off of his broad shoulders you took a moment to run the palms of your hands up and down the smooth muscles of his muscled chest. Goosebumps rose under your touch as he leaned in towards you.

“Good boy,” You murmured, throwing your head back against the pillow, knowing that the praise would do just the trick to convince him to break the rules with you. Corrupting him, now that was also a part of the fun for you, little old Jamie would’ve never fathomed doing something like this if you hadn’t convinced him, there was just something so undeniably hot about the way you could so easily manipulate him. The way that with two simple words we was a whimpering mess with his mouth latched on your nipple.

You whined as he lifted his mouth moving it to the other nipple both at the loss of contact and then the new found stimulation.

James didn’t hear the opening and the closing of the door from behind him, too focused on sucking on the delicate flesh of your tit but you did, Remus and Sirius had caught you. Smirking to yourself you realized that if you worked the next ten or so seconds correctly you would be in for a treat.

“Jamie!” You moaned, dramatically thrusting your chest up into his mouth, “Feels so good when you suck my tit Jamsie, making me so wet.” Deciding laying it on extra thick was only going to help your mission: you wrapped your legs around James’ waist and started thrusting your hips into his.

“Can you believe these two?” The dark haired man asked his partner incredulously, “Did you give them permission to do this?”

At the sound of Sirius’ voice James jumped off of you, a guilty look gracing his face as he immediately dropped to his knees in front of them, not even wiping the spit from his mouth.

“No Pads,” Remus responded, his eyes on James rather than Sirius, a frown took over his face as he moved his gaze to your half naked form, “Did you?”

“Nope,” Sirius replied, popping his p as he stuck his hands into the front pockets of his trousers, lazily sauntering over to where James sat subserviently on the ground, “Thought you were my good boy Jamie, what happened?” He asked in a sickly sweet sort of voice that had James in a puddle at his feet and you rolling your eyes back in your head, not noticing Remus’ piercing gaze set on you. If you paid close enough attention, the tension radiating off the man was suffocating but Remus had always been able to blend into his surroundings, making it all the more startling when he pounced.

James’ response came in the form of a pathetic little whine as Sirius turned his face up to meet him with his index finger, the boy was malleable in the other man’s grasp.

“Come on, answer Daddy’s question, don’t be a brat,” At the very mention of the word brat James’ eyes snapped up to Sirius’, that was his worst nightmare, being a brat, failing either Sirius or Remus. It terrified him, and Sirius knew James like the back of his hand.

“M’sorry, m’so, so sorry I didn’t want to break the rules but (Y/N) said that it would be okay, that we wouldn’t get caught and then she kissed me and-” He rambled, his hands nervously tumbling about each other in his lap, his gaze never wavering from Sirius.

“Pathetic slut,” You swore, stalking off from the bed to where Sirius stood in front of James, “You were just as into it as I was, both of us broke the rules don’t try to back out now, don’t be a bad boy Jamie.”

You opened your mouth to continue but you were cut off by a sharp slap to the side of your face as Sirius’ hand met your cheek.

“Ow,” You whimpered, clutching the side of your face in your hand as you glared at Sirius, taking a step back towards the bed, “What was that for?”

“Oh don’t act stupid, you know that you get punished when you break the rules Puppy. And calling James a bad boy,” His eyes softened as he tore them from you, moving them to gaze down at the boy who still knelt at his feet, “You’re not a bad boy are you Jamie?”

He shook his head silently, eyes locked onto Sirius’.

“He’s acting like one, throwing me under the bus,” You grumbled, still rubbing the side of your face.

“Did anyone say you could talk?” Remus questioned you, his voice oddly calm as he strode towards you, in no time at all reaching your body.

He raised a hand to the side of your you were clutching, coaxing away your hand to replace it with his own. He ran the palm of his hand over the flesh before pulling it back to bring it against your face, more harshly than Sirius had.

The action pulled a whine from your throat as your flesh was abused by the calloused palm of Remus’ hand. In a second he had adjusted his hand so that it was gripping your jaw, using his hold on you there to tug your entire body closer to his person.

“You really expect us to fucking buy that,” He squished your cheeks together harder and harder with every passing second, “Jamsie has always been our best boy, you on the other hand Puppy, you’ve got a bit of a bratty side to you.”

“It’s not fair,” You tried to wiggle yourself out of Remus’ grasp, moving your hands to grapple at his wrist, trying to pull away from him but he was unmoving, not only being much taller than you but much stronger than you, your efforts were in vain, “He broke the rules too, he’s not your good boy he’s a fucking slut!”

“That’s it!” Sirius’ voice rang through the dorm, still positioned next to James who still sat on the floor now with his fingers entangled in the other boy’s dark curls, “On the bed, now.” His command left no room for argument as Remus let go of your face, but you just stood there, not moving until he gave you a not so gentle nudge towards the bed you had previously been seated upon.

You had to stop yourself from trembling as you sat upon the bed, it wasn’t that you were scared. No, this was exactly what you had hoped for, you were giddy.

“If anyone here is desperate, puppy it’s you, look at this,” Sirius sneered, pushing your legs apart so that your bare pussy was on display, just as you had forgone a bra you had decided to go without panties, anticipating this moment. “No panties,” He tutted, crouching down so that he was level with your pussy as he boldly ran a finger through your sopping folds, “You planned this didn’t you?” HIs eyes darted up to meet yours and with a single glance he knew.

“Course she planned it, Pads,” Remus chimed in from where he leaned against the frame of one of the other beds, “Are you just now figuring that out? Our puppy thought she could break the rules and we’d make her feel good, thought she’d enjoy her punishment.”

As his words washed over you you felt a wave of disappointment, they weren’t going to give you what you wanted.

Sensing your disappointment Sirius recaptured your jaw in his hand, “Don’t pout baby, you’re gonna take your punishment like a good girl, yeah?”

Putting on your best “James face” eye wide and pleading, lips pushed out in a small pout, head cocked to the side you extended a single hand to grope at Sirius’ crotch, squeezing his clothed member in the palm of your hand.

“Daddy,” You begged, knowing that you were breaking another rule, touching them without permission.

Remus rolled his eyes and was at your side in the blink of an eye, wrenching your hand away from Sirius’ bulge, “You know you’re not allowed to touch without permission,” He scolded as though he was bored with your insolent behavior. “Did you forget?”

“No, Daddy,” You shook your head looking up at him as Sirius’ adjusted so that your head was turned towards the other man.

Remus’ hold on your wrist tightened, “Oh, so you just decided to break the rules?”

You stuttered, not quite sure how to answer his question, “I-I…”

“That’s what I thought,” He spat, letting go of your wrist so that it could land on your thigh, not bothering to look over his shoulder he spoke to James, instead keeping his eyes on you, “Jamie, can you pull up the armchair for me?”

Rushing to obey, James squeaked out a small “yes” before pulling the aforementioned chair to the foot of the bed before redirected by Remus to place it by the side of the bed. You couldn’t help but ogle the boy as he moved about the room, well developed muscles rippling under his skin as he stretched and twisted his body.

“Up,” Remus ordered you with a flick of his wrist towards the chair you were pulled from your seat and dragged to the chair by some invisible force. With another flick of his wrist you were positioned to his liking, legs spread and thrown over the arms of the chair, arms linked together behind your back and as you tried to tug yourself out of that position you found you were immobile. Remus and his fucking talent for wandless magic.

“I’m uncomfortable, Daddy,” You trilled, trying to move in your seat and failing tremendously.

“What did we say about talking?” Sirius scoffed at you undoing the buttons on his uniform shirt one at a time until he was able to shed his clothing.

“Jamsie, could you grab me a vibrator, the purple one?” Remus asked as he too rid himself of his shirt.

Being the dutiful boy he was, James promptly handed Remus the small clit vibrator who idly played with the switch, turning it on and then back off for a few seconds before his stern gaze lifted to your form and a small smirk graced his face.

“Pads?” The werewolf turned to look at the boy, “You wanna do the honors?”

Sirius grinned like an idiot as he slid the toy from his lover’s hand, slipping it onto your clit before turning it on, placing a light sticking charm on you as to ensure the toy would stay put.

“No cumming unless we say so, do you understand Puppy?” Everything about him from the tone of his voice to his eyes mocked you as he spoke, letting you know he was having way too much fun with this.

You managed a small nod but couldn’t help but jolt at the sudden pleasure that coursed through you as the vibrations of the vibrator stimulated your clit. If you had been physically capable you would’ve bucked your hips up but that being impossible left the pleasure to only fester more as the itch to move intensified the ecstasy setting deep in your bones.

Being so distracted by the stimulation on your clit you almost missed as Remus took James’ face in his hands and meshed their lips together, pushing his tongue into the smaller boy’s mouth, Remus dug his hands in his hair. The moan that James released as Remus tugged on his locks must’ve made Sirius feel left out because in a second he was behind the two boys tugging Remus’ face away from James’, interlocking his lips with the taller man’s, he replaced Remus’ hands in James’ hair with his own.

“Daddy,” You whined, not addressing either of them particularly just wanting attention.

“Shush, they’re giving me attention right now,” James said to you, looking to the other two boys for approval at his show of dominance.

Remus granted such, pulling away from his kiss with Sirius to extoll him, “Good boy Jamie, putting Puppy in her place.”

Getting the approval he craved at all times a gigantic grin cracked across his face, “May I touch you Daddy?”

“Yes you may, good boy.”

Not wasting a single second, as eager as ever, James lunged towards the larger boy, attaching his lips to his pulse point, gently sucking small marks that bloomed in brilliant shades of blue and purple along the side of his neck.

The distinct clink of metal drew your attention to Sirius where he stood undoing his belt allowing him to drop his trousers, leaving him only in a pair of dark grey boxers which proudly displayed his prominent bulge.

Sirius didn’t even spare you a glance as he moved back towards the pair, pressing his erection against James’ back while shamelessly groping his firm ass. James threw his head back onto his shoulder, abandoning Remus’ neck as the erection pressed into him and the hands on his ass overwhelmed him.

“Want inside him Rem,” Sirius groaned while he laved his tongue up and down the expanse of James’ neck, “Need inside of him,” He corrected himself.

“You think you’re ready for us Jamie?” The lycanthrope murmured in his ear, “Are you ready to take our cocks.”

Despite your most valiant efforts a moan escaped from your mouth at Remus’ words, watching James get fucked was one of your most favorite things, he was so beautiful stretched out on one of their cocks, a sobbing, moaning mess as he was split in two. But usually you got to touch him, or Remus, or Sirius, or at the very least yourself.

The idea of not being able to touch yourself was absolute hell. Throw in the vibrator attached to your clit and your explicit order not to cum you were absolutely fucked as pleasure began to simmer in the pit of your belly, making your orgasm seem less and less far off.

You watched, practically drooling, as your boyfriends disrobed allowing their hard cocks to spring out against their stomachs, each distinctly different from the other but completely mouth watering in their own way. Your boys were perfect, all the way down to the tips of their pricks but something about seeing them in all their perfection and not being able to touch them made you a surprising mix of angry and turned on. Especially when you considered that it was them who had put you there, tied up and horny.

“Can I join Daddies, pretty please?” You begged as you watched James situate himself on the bed on his hands and knees, pushing his ass back towards Remus who was settling in behind him. “I’ll be a good girl I promise!”

“You wanna be a good girl?” Sirius mocked, pumping his cock in his hand to get it harder.

You nodded your head pathetically, giving Sirius the best puppy dog eyes you could muster with the haze settling into your mind.

Remus spoke before Sirius could, his eyes focused on the pool between your legs, “Can’t take you seriously when your pretty pussy is on display for us like that, makes you look almost as pathetic and desperate as you are.”

You groaned at the degradation, turning back to Sirius, even if he did agree to free you you would still need to convince Remus but it would at least be a start.

“If you wanna be a good girl you’re gonna sit there and be quiet while you watch us fuck Jamsie.”

Feeling defeated you wished you could drop your head into your hands, but the full body bind that had been placed on you made it hard to so much as blink.

You watched, despite yourself really, with bated breath as Remus pushed into the warmth of James’ opening, having used a lubrication spell to prepare him. The moan that the boy released went straight to your pussy and made it hard for you to think clearly as you watched him drop from his hands to his elbows before Sirius helped him back up so that he could push his cock into his mouth.

Screw waterboarding, this was a special kind of evil, cruel and unusual. With every sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet gagging noises that came as Sirius forced his cock further and further down James’ throat accompanied by the vibrator still stimulating your clit, it had your body going into overdrive to work to suppress your oncoming orgasm to the point where is was painful.

Before either of your three boyfriends showed any signs that they were even close to their orgasms you were screaming, “Please let me cum, I’ll be a good girl I promise please! I’m so sorry, please forgive me!”

You sounded piteous.

“Shut up,” Remus threw at you as he picked up his pace in thrusting in and out of James, drinking up his moans like they were the only things keeping him going.

“Please, I’m gonna cum I can’t stop it please!” You cried out, tears rolling down your face at the effort it took you to suppress your climax. You weren’t lying, your orgasm was approaching you without remorse and no matter how hard you tried to fight it, it was by far a losing battle.

You held on for as long as you could, trying to use the lights and sounds in the room to tether you but before you were completely overwhelmed by the pleasure boiling up in your stomach and rising up your spine you screamed, “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry Daddy, wanna be your good girl!”

As most of your orgasms were this one was absolutely overwhelming, flooding your senses with pure, unadulterated pleasure until all you could focus on was the warm feeling that washed over you and the ache in your cunt as the vibrator continued its assault against your pussy.

The added stimulation made it harder to come back as your climax subsided and the noises and voices that had once sounded muffled, as though you had been under water were clear as they reached your ears.

The first thing you heard as the fog began to lift from your head was a familiar but far off voice, “She’ll never learn will she?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @pauloonig @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby

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wolfybugswriting · 3 years

Text

Itadori/sukuna x reader

Summary: You go into a yearly rut, and this time Yuji catches you out of your room. He learns what's going on and decides to try and help you. Sukuna's a brat.

Warnings: amab gn reader(has a dick, but I try to not use gendered pronouns), masturbation, somewhat rough sex to even rougher sex w/ Sukuna, lots of biting, slight degradation? reader teases Yuji about wanting to fuck them, Sukuna is a brat, Yuji is super submissive, nice fluffy ending

Note(s): In this, the rut is essentially a side effect of your curse/cursed technique

Word count: 4.2k

With a huff, you slammed the snooze button on your alarm clock for the who-knows-how-many time - you hadn't been keeping count. Still foggy with sleep, and the side effects of your incoming rut, you didn't really care how late you slept in today. You'd managed to keep your situation a secret from your friends, feeling more comfortable dealing with it on your own. You told them that you were out on a mission, and would lock yourself up in your room until it subsided.

But now you were hungry, late in the evening; the others should be out by now, so you made your way to the kitchen. You took enough food to hold yourself over for a while longer, and it was a good thing too, hearing footsteps as you locked your door behind you.

Fucking hell- You could sense him from here, connected to both Itadori and the curse he hosted. You see, you were also a vessel. You housed the only curse that could rival Sukuna; one who was once his lover when they were human, until she was killed. She resented Sukuna for not trying to save her, but they were still connected to each other whether they liked it or not.

Shaking your head clear of your thoughts, you huddled into your haphazard mess of pillows and blankets. Maybe you could just sleep away your problem.

. . .

"Fuuucck..." You groaned, throwing your blankets off of you as your body was starting to overheat. This was one of the worst ruts you've gone through already, and knowing just how close Itadori's room was to yours certainly wasn't helping. You'd liked the guy for a while, his kind while sometimes a bit childish nature catching your eye. Then combined with your shared memories of Sukuna, thanks to your own curse, you were whipped to say the least.

Stumbling out of your room to get another water bottle to try and cool yourself off some, you froze at the sight of Itadori stumbling down the hallway towards you. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, jumping a little when he finally noticed you.

"H-hey, you're back!" His voice was lower, and scratchy from just waking up. You tried not to think about how else you'd like to hear his voice.

"Yeah... What're you doing up?" Leaned back against the wall, you made sure to keep some distance between the two of you.

Oblivious as ever, he moved to stand right in front of you, laughing a little. "Just getting a midnight snack, what about you?"

Gods he smells good- "Water." You grit out, unable to look at the other. Even in the dim lighting he looks good.

Shuffling back towards your room, you stuff your hands in your pockets. You couldn't be around him for too long; as in control of yourself as you normally are, you didn't trust yourself to not pin the pink-haired male to the wall and-

No, don't even think about it. You don't want to freak him out, you idiot.

"Are you ok? You don't look too good," the good-natured idiot came even closer, trying to look into your eyes. It was hard to see your flushed face in the dark, but he knew you enough by now that he could tell something was wrong.

You had to bite your tongue, not wanting to say anything about your rut, and besides you didn't want to focus on just how close he is, or how you could practically hear his heartbeat- or was that your own?

"'M fine. Just- I'm going back to sleep." You didn't wait for a response, though you could hear him ask about your water, and you quickly closed your door and dropped onto your bed with a heavy sigh.

. . .

"What was that about...?" he wondered aloud, a little worried. You were never really the super upbeat type of person like himself or Nobara, but you seemed grumpier than usual and he didn't like to see you upset. When you two had first met, he could hardly get a word out of you, but that was a long time ago; he hoped something hadn't happened to you, or worse that he'd done something.

Eventually deciding to get his snack, and a water bottle that he left by your door, Yuji went back to his room. He curled up on his bed with whatever he'd grabbed out of the pantry with a sigh. As a mouth formed on his hand, he frowned but waited for Sukuna to speak.

"You can tell something's different about them, can't you?" The curse grinned, knowing something his host didn't.

"Obviously. Why?" Though he'd gotten more used to Sukuna's presence, he still didn't trust him. To be fair, he hasn't given much of a reason to trust him.

Still speaking into the darkened room aloud, Sukuna pulled his memories to the front of his mind and sharing them with Yuji in turn. "You see, the curse your little friend shares a body with," an old memory, but it was clear as day. She had an almost scary resemblance to you. "We were lovers."

Yuji nearly choked on his food, surprised that the King of Curses could have had a lover, let alone said lover now inhabiting the body of his crush. It clicked in his mind after that moment why he always felt so drawn to you, even before the crush on you had developed.

"What happened?" While he didn't know why, he'd known of Sukuna's aversion to the other curse; he'd made it clear from the moment when you and Yuji had met.

"...She died." The curses voice rang in his head, the lips on his hand pursed into a frown. "She died, but even then our bond didn't break. Though she surely hates me now." He huffed and though he acted like he didn't care, Yuji could feel his concern, as strange as it was.

Though he could barely wrap his mind around all this, Sukuna still hasn't told him what was wrong with you. "So why are they so upset?"

At that, the mouth on his hand shifted. "They're going through a rut because of the nature of their curse, and they don't want to get you involved. Some ridiculous self-sacrificing act I'm sure." Yuji opened his mouth to ask what he could do, but Sukuna got there first. "It'll pass on it's own, though it won't be pleasant. There is something you could do though, if you can convince them."

He waited, getting impatient for the curse to get to the answer he was looking for.

"If you fuck, the rut will pass after." The blunt answer made his whole face and neck flush a dark red.

It took a minute to process the idea, letting everything sink in. You were ok, thank goodness, but because of your curse who also happens to be the lover - ex-lover? - of Sukuna, you are going through this rut and if you, his crush, fucked him it would pass. It was a lot to take in, so he decided that he'd sleep on it, then go to you tomorrow night. Obviously you didn't want them to know about this, but if there was something he could do, even if he was a little lot nervous to ask, he wanted to do it.

. . .

You couldn't stop thinking about Yuji. Your heart was pounding, and though it has since calmed down you certainly haven't. He was close enough you could see flecks of red in his eyes, close enough that you could've kissed him. You'd wanted to, that was for sure. But you didn't want to ruin your friendship with him, afraid of any number of things.

The two of you had a rocky start; you knew about him, and being Sukuna's vessel, though he had no idea of your existence until you'd met. With only what you knew about Sukuna, both from other sorcerers and your own curse, you were wary of the boy and didn't stick around him long enough to give him a chance to explain. But eventually, with a little help from Gojo, you two made up and became fast friends, the group often having meals together when no one had a mission.

It took awhile for you to realize what your feelings were on Yuji, simply writing it off as a different brand of friendship. It wasn't until yuji nearly died for a second time, and you weren't there to save him; you were so afraid that you'd never get to see him again, never hug him, never make dinner for the others again, laughing about this or that. You realized that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, and you were afraid you'd miss the chance to tell him.

"You love him." The curse had said. "You're meant for each other. Like soulmates." She'd said, telling you what you were coming to realize yourself.

But you shook your head now, feelings not something you wanted to dwell on as it got later into the night.

Tossing around for a while in the messy sheets on your bed, you finally gave up and threw them off along with a majority of your pajamas, body too hot for comfort. Left in a pair of boxers, you buried your face into your pillow and groaned. Your thoughts drifted for a while between being too hot, sweat still sticking to your skin despite the fan at top speed, and your pink-haired crush.

You've always thought he was attractive, even before you got to know him. His bright smile lighting up any room, an aura of innocence around him. Then his strong physique, though you usually don't see it much between his hoodies and the Jujutsu tech uniform, but man, when you did; you'd like to run your hand over his abs, curious if they feel as strong as they look.

You wanted to touch him in a lot of places, really. His arms, definite muscle, but not too ridiculous like Todo's(Sorry Todo simps). His soft hair, though you've felt it before patting his head, being a bit taller than him and teasing him about it. His thighs, and definitely his ass. And you could only imagine the size of his package.

Biting your lip, you hadn't realized your hand drifting down your body as your thoughts turned, letting out a shaky breath. You'd definitely feel bad about it later, but right now you could only think about your hand being Yuji's as it rubbed against the bulge in your boxers. Flipping onto your back and pulling your underwear to your thighs, you shivered as the cold air hit your skin, sweltering as it was.

Even with your room being fairly soundproof, you kept your voice low, the idea of the object of your thoughts catching you both exciting you and making you anxious. You stroked lazily along the shaft, hips stuttering into your hand the closer to the edge you got. The thought of Yuji crying your name sent you over, dropping your head back as your orgasm washed over you.

After calming your breathing down, you cleaned yourself off. Despite feeling all sweaty, you didn't want to get up. Sighing, you decided you'd shower in the morning after the others left. It didn't take much longer to fall asleep, thankfully.

. . .

You woke up laying half off the bed, even the natural warmth your pile of blankets held getting to be too much during the night. You felt gross. Luckily, you couldn't hear anyone, probably out for lunch, so you could shower in peace.

Leaving your room in just a thin pair of sweatpants and a tank top, your grumbling stomach making your hunger known - you apparently didn't get enough food like you'd thought. You noticed a water bottle beside your door, grinning slightly as you knew who put it there. Shaking your head, you picked it up to bring with you; Yuji would probably try to talk to you when he got back, clearly worried about you. It's cute, but you wished you had a good way to explain your situation without him trying to help.

As much as you would like the idea, you didn't want to make it seem like you just wanted to use him to get through your rut. You wanted him so much more than that, but you couldn't say that, could you.

Quickly grabbing some more snacks, you hid away in your room again, growing tired of your four walls. With your ruts usually lasting around a week, you dreaded having to stay in your room for much longer, but you didn't want to be going on missions in your state.

. . .

The day seemed to go by agonizingly slowly, for the both of you; you in your room with only what you had with you for entertainment, and Yuji waiting anxiously to talk to you. Sukuna had told him earlier that it'd be best to try to talk to you once the others were asleep, as you'd probably be asleep most of the day anyways. That was usually the case, if you could you'd sleep as long as you could to avoid dealing with your body all out of wack.

Finally though, just as you were going to try and go to sleep, a knock sounded at your door. Yuji had to hype himself up to do it, with roundabout encouragement from Sukuna, his thoughts running rampant. 'What if you thought he was weird for asking? What if you got upset with him? What if it ruined your friendship? What if, what if, what if?' He was still fiddling with the hem of his sleeve when you opened your door, a faint look of surprise on your face. You'd started to think you were wrong, that maybe Yuji had forgotten about your interaction the other night or thought he'd dreamed it.

"Hey." You spoke softly, looking him over. He wasn't wearing much, similar to what you had on. He looked good in it.

"H-hey, um, sorry if I woke you, I just kinda wanted to talk?" Yuji smiled, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck.

You sighed, but nodded.

"So, y-you're," he blushed a little more, his cheeks already having been red, thinking about you most of the day - as well as what he planned to ask you. "You're in a rut, right...?"

Eyes widening, you blushed a bit yourself. "How'd you..." Your voice trailed off, confused.

Yuji tapped his cheek, "Sukuna, he told me. So... are you, o-ok?" He still wanted to make sure, even if he knew now what was happening and you confirmed it with your unsaid question.

After a moment, you opened your door wider and nodded your head back. "Y-yeah, just, come in and we can talk." You were careful to sit at the edge of your bed after closing the door behind Yuji. "What all did he tell you?"

"Everything, I think. The rut, the whole lovers thing between them," he gestured between you and himself, "and, um..." He looked away, unable to meet your eyes as he mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. "The s-sex, thing."

Nodding in turn, you ran a hand back through your hair. "Right. So, why're you here then?" You could apologize for being harsh later, you wanted to make sure you didn't pounce onto him. And fuck the look he makes when he brings his eyes back to yours.

"I wanna help, a-any way I can." His face is completely red, so innocent looking, you bit your lip.

"I appreciate you wanting to help, but I can handle this on my own, Yuji."

You watched as he shuffled closer to you, take a breath and grab one of your hands. He looked into your eyes, so cute.

"Please, I want to help you! S-sukuna told me what it's like when this happens, and if I can help it, I don't want you to have to deal with all that!" Only Yuji could manage to look so sweet and innocent when talking about having you fuck him, even if it was just because of your rut.

He would look even cuter all fucked out, crying for you. You swallowed, looking him over again. You wanted to have your way with him, so badly, but you never wanted to put it on him like that. But... if he's asking you to fuck him. Well, maybe you could have him after all.

"...Are you sure about this, Yuji? I don't want you to do this just for me." But you do, really.

He nods, almost excitedly. To be fair, he'd be lying if he said he hasn't thought about you on top of him, fucking him into the mattress. He wanted you to feel better, and if he got to be with you in the process it was a bonus.

You smirk. "Words, Yuji."

His eyes widen, but he stammers out a soft, "Y-yes."

You bring your free hand to his waist, leaning in a bit closer. "'Yes', what?" Your eyes were darker than usual, clouded with lust, and it made a shiver run down the pink-haired males spine.

"Yes, I- I want to do this."

"Good." You press your lips to his, hungrily running your hand along the contour of his back.

He lets out a little noise as you kiss him, eyes fluttering closed. Fumbling with the hand not holding yours, he finally places it on your shoulder. You could hear his heartbeat, this time sure it was his, though yours was quickly picking up to match it. His lips are so soft, just like the rest of him, a bit of squish to him along with his muscle; you gave in to your wants and felt everything, moving from his back to his arms, down along his chest, squeezing his ass. He yelped at the feeling, and you took the chance to slip your tongue into his mouth.

Submissive through and through, he didn't fight it, but it was clear he didn't quite know what he was doing. But you didn't mind teaching him, spurred on by the little sounds he was making, almost whimpering. Unclasping your hands, he moved his opposite his on your shoulders and you let yours to wander beside the other.

His body was more than you'd imagined, and his sounds were downright sinful. You were just getting started though, pulling his shirt off and pressing not-quite-rough kisses along his jawline and down his neck to his collarbone. You hit a spot that made him whine, and you grinned, kissing and biting there. You could just see his expression from where you sat, pressed into his skin, and it sent heat straight to your core.

Gripping at your back, Yuji pulled you closer, entranced by you. "F-fuck, (y/n)..." His voice was soft, almost shaky as his breath stuttered the longer you nipped at his neck. He tugged at your shirt and you pulled away just long enough to take it off, taking his turn to admire your body.

Leaning forward, you caged your hands around his head, his wrapped around your shoulders. You kissed down his chest, taking off his sweats, surprised to find that he hadn't put any underwear on, and when you looked up at him he had his head turned to the bed.

You hummed, raising a brow at him. "You really wanted to get fucked by me, huh? Ready for me and everything." You lightly traced random shapes on his now bare thighs, watching his cock twitch in response.

Yuji whined, nodding, but kept his face turned away from you. You gripped his chin, turning it back. "Words, remember Yuji?"

He did his best to not just whine again, "Y-yes, yes I want you!"

You just hummed again, "Say it."

This time he did whine, long and drawn out, "Ahh~ I w-want you to f-fuck me! Please!"

You kissed him, muffling his noises, only pulling away when you needed to catch your breath. "Good boy." You didn't give him a chance to respond, wrapping one hand around his length and pressing a finger of the other into his hole. Yuji shuddered, his words cut off by a shaky moan.

It didn't take long before you had three fingers in, with the way he kept begging for more, pawing at your pants. Taking the hint, you stripped down, your own dick mostly untouched now very hard. You look at him, making sure he still wanted this. He nodded, muttering 'please's under his breath between moans.

You kept stroking his weeping cock as you pressed into him, until you bottomed out and you let him rest for a moment and get used to you inside him. He surprised you, rutting his hips into yours as his head dropped against the bed, body quivering under you.

"Fuck, fuck me, fuck me-e p-please!" Yuji whimpered, words punctuated as he grinded against you. You were right, he looked so pretty when he was whimpering and moaning for you.

Something in his voice made whatever restraint you'd been holding onto snap, thrusting into him at a merciless pace, though he didn't seem to mind, moans rising in volume and pitch. His eyes rolled back, and all you could hear besides his moans were broken pleads and your name. You had your head in the crook of his neck, and you growled, going from nips and kisses to biting, leaving large hickeys in your wake.

"I- I'm g-gonna- F-fuuu-uuu-ck-" The loudest moan he'd made throughout the night interrupted him, hips stuttering as he came, painting his stomach white. You came not long after, his body clenching around you so well. You were both panting, at some point Yuji had wrapped his legs around your waist, and you slowed to a stop still inside of him.

You pulled away to make sure he wasn't hurt, and you stopped when you saw tattoos that hadn't been there a moment ago. They must've switched accidentally, if the faintly confused look was anything to go by. But when the curse started bucking his hips, you growled.

"C-come on, I know you can take me too," he taunted, but the effect didn't work as well as he wanted when his voice was so broken and he moaned when you hit that one spot.

You huffed, but you grinned. "Who knew the king of curses was a fucking brat?" Thrusting once to make a point, he shuddered, still full of you. "At least I won't mind if I rough you up a bit."

Sukuna chuckled, sharp nails digging a little more into your shoulders. "You c-couldn't break me if you tried."

With that, you started up that same rough pace, smacking his ass. It was almost strange, not quite muscle memory leading you, moving to make him cry out the most. It was still Yuji's body, but with Sukuna in control, it snapped something into place between both of you.

'Soulmates'. You were brought together like this for a reason.

He kept trying to taunt you, but his words would always break away into a whine when you bit in just the right spot, or you'd smack him a little harder. Finally, he couldn't speak anymore than moan, pulling himself into you as he clawed at your back and shoulders. His voice broke as he came again, nearly crying as you sped up even more as you got close to finishing. You bit into his neck as you came, riding it out, slowing down to a stop for the second time.

"Satisfied now?" You taunt, and he whines.

Slowly pulling out, both of you moaning at the loss, though he was much louder, you relaxed. Yuji switches back after a moment, shuddering at the feeling of your cum leaking out of his hole. You sigh, standing to go run a bath for the both of you, letting Yuji know before he closes his eyes just in case he falls asleep in the meantime. He nods, so you know he heard you.

. . .

You ended up curling up next to each other, wearing some of your clothes, after you pulled off the dirty sheets. As the sunlight streamed through your window, you woke to your arm wrapped around Yuji's side. It was a peaceful scene compared to last night, though you definitely enjoyed yourselves.

"mm... Morning." Yuji looked up at you, a small smile on his lips.

You hum. "Morning. You alright?" He chuckles.

"I should be asking you that. But yeah. 'Lil sore, but yeah."

Nodding, you grin in turn. He probably won't be walking straight for a little while. "Good... Thank you, for helping with- this." You frown a bit, gesturing to yourself. He cups your cheek, waiting for a moment before smiling wider.

"'Course. I wanted you to feel better," he blushes a bit. "Aaand I might've been wanting you to- f-fuck me for a while..." His voice trails off at the end, pulling away nervously. But you pull him closer.

"I'm glad, cause I've been wanting to fuck you for a while too. Probably cause I like you. A lot."

He grins. "Me too."

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #writing #my writing #itadori yūji #yuji x reader #sub!yuji #sub yuji #yuuji x reader #sub!sukuna #sub sukuna #dom!reader #dom reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo.

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy.

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships.

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate.

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?”

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise.

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum.

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed.

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks.

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.”

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you.

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is.

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support.

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle.

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this.

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway.

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you.

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck.

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal.

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw.

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship.

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.”

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him.

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it.

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought.

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble.

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later.

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again.

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding.

Both of you looked ridiculous.

“Stay away, fiend.”

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you.

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t.

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible.

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself.

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring.

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time.

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes.

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you.

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again.

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst.

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm.

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying.

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again.

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment.

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you.

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up.

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech.

“Suppose that’s two points for me?”

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something.

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him?

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know.

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again.

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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gagmebucky · 3 years

Note

your last post... can we see it 👉👈

Tonight, you’re on cleaning duty.

The chores are split up weekly. You and your roommate alternate between cleaning and cooking; it’s a perfect arrangement. Neither of you are the messy type, and you have similar taste palates, plus you enjoy each other’s company.

You’ve had a number of roommates, and he easily blows them out of the water. Hands down the perfect living companion, your living preferences are the same and synchronized immediately after you moved in. Rather than just being two people who room together, you’ve become good friends.

So you don't mind either chore. In fact, there’s a sense of pride in it. At six o’clock in the evening, you’ve swept, dusted and washed everywhere. It’s not a hard job, and you’re finished quickly. But not quite, not quite, because you like going the extra mile when it comes to the kitchen.

The dishes are done and dried, groceries stowed away in the fridge and cupboards, and counters wiped down. The checkered floors are what you’re working on, once again not expected but you’re thorough and there’s reminiscents of your last cooking endeavor which ended with food flying everywhere.

On all fours, your hair is collected low down your back while your knees dig into cushioned microfiber towels and you scrub the tiles bright white and opaque black. You’ve cleared row after row, and you’re hoping to be finished before he arrives.

But the front door opens, and you hear his combat boot-clad footsteps pad in behind you. Bucky doesn’t walk all the way in, and you don’t need to look back to know he’s leaning against the archway, head tilted while he watches you work, unusually silent but characterically observant of you.

For some reason, you’re flustered. Although you’ve been in revealing clothing before, worse than this, you get a little flustered. The oversized tee does little to hide your ass or your workout shorts, a black pair that hovers at the crease of your cheeks.

Then you remind yourself who it is, your roommate-slash-best friend, a wholesome man who opens doors for you, never forgetting please and thank you. That relaxes you; although he’s a man, certainly not one affected by your swaying hips on every circular swipe.

“Hey,” you speak first, a little breathless, not bothering to look up at him. “I’ll be finished in a sec, if you wanted to w. . .”

Your words trail off when his shadow casts over you—you didn’t even hear him approach—and he’s a breadth away. You don’t have time to look up before his hand twists in your hair, tightens and roughly wrenches your head back. A sharp pain in your neck and a delicious sting in your scalp as your roommate forces you to look at him and only him.

Cerulean blue sparkles with your gasp, blatantly hungry gaze running down your bared throat and cleavage in a loose tee. His mouth quirks to one side, pink tongue swiping over his lower lip, expression otherwise mild mannered like this is casual.

Hair pulled, your body has the instinctive reaction to submit, wide-eyed and at the mercy of the person above you. The shock still seizes you but it’s in the backseat while heat pulses in your center. You’re half-kneeling, careening backward into his unspoken will.

He cranes down, all handsome and wicked a few centimeters away. “You know,” he says like a realization, letting the mint-toned words fan over your lips, “this the perfect position for you to suck my cock. I mean, I could just unbutton my jeans…” His other hand is underneath your chin, thumb gently prying your lips open and rubbing over your tongue. “…and slide right over your soft lil’ tongue ‘til it's my cum you’re cleaning up. That’d be fun, wouldn’t it?”

Your heart drums a beat to disbelief and arousal. How are you supposed to react to that? There’s the appropriate response to jerk away, and there’s the bodily reaction where

Your heart hammers, and you don’t realize you’re holding in a breath. What are you supposed to say—how do you react to that? You don’t know but disbelief at his gall and arousal at his actions wrap around you hotly. All you can do is stare up at him like a deer in headlights, his tangled fingers easing your face closer so his lips can kiss the button of your nose.

Then he lets go.

With a soft chuckle, he releases you and turns toward the refrigerator like nothing happened. “So, I’m thinking orange chicken,” he suggests, glancing over the contents of frozen foods, cool as a cucumber while you’re caught between admonishing him for such a display and begging him to soothe the ache pulsing in your center. “I wanted to make your favorite.”

Did he just—yes, he did—what are you gonna d—I don’t know, your thoughts are running ragged, it turned you on—shut up!—but—

You shake off your thoughts and try to consider the question. “Um…” you say dumbly. It’s such a mundane question. If it wasn’t for the slickness gathered in your center and your desperately clenched thighs, you might think the whole thing was imagined.

“Thanks for cleaning, by the way,” he adds with a boyish beam. “I know we’re supposed to, or whatever, but I still appreciate it. You really make the place feel like a home rather than just somewhere you live. So thank you.”

There’s no mistaking the honesty in his words, and it’s such a juxtaposition to what just happened that you decide that it’s a one time thing, firmly—weakly. Or maybe it was a fevered daydream, something built up when bunking with someone so attractive physically and mentally. Surely, he wasn’t hinting at facefucking you in the middle of the kitchen and cumming down your throat so much it dribbles out of your mouth.

You swallow and clear your throat, nodding but it’s a little frantic. Now, he’s looked back, lifting a brow like he doesn’t know why you’re flustered. There’s a twinkle, though, amused and maybe a little satisfied. He’s still awaiting your response and rather than raise any objections, you answer, “Y - yeah. That sounds good.”

#yeth...#bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #my writing #marvel reader insert #marvel drabbles #i have like 4 more scenarios w this characterization i love teasing hehe

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alluremin · 3 years

Text

catch 22

pairing: jeon jungkook | reader

genre: fwb to lovers , college!au | fluff, smut, light angst

warnings: explicit sex; oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration w/o protection, dirty talk, light dom x sub themes, candid sex talk, jimin is a player, jungkook is a frat boy

premise: you and your best friend had agreed: college was for a good time only, no serious relationships were necessary. who knew that a frat boy would be the one to shake up that notion?

word count: 7.2k

At this time of night, you know you should expect to see his eyes following every movement your body makes. It was like you two were magnets of opposite charges, always attracted to one another regardless of how much your substance of choice was affecting your decisions. It’s bound to happen, almost as if by fate.

It was a beautifully toxic connection you shared with him; a vicious cycle comprised of sex, weed, booze, and good music, never in any particular order.

When you glance to the corner of the room surrounded by a hazy cloud of euphoria, the boy in question pulls himself at attention, elbows on his knees, wavy hair falling in front of his eyes. They bore holes into your own as if to say I’m waiting for you to join me, sweetheart.

Who were you to say no to that?

You know the power you have over him and consequently, every movement you make is intentional; your pivot from the makeshift dance floor, the sway of your hips with every step, the way you push your hair over your shoulder, and the smirk you give him when his eye contact fails to break with your own. The mix of alcohol and marijuana in your body makes you feel like you’re moving in slow motion, in the best way possible.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

No hesitation ran through your body as you sit in his lap and take the joint from his hands. “I was wondering when you’d come back from your stage, tiny dancer,” he teases.

“Oh please, Guk, don’t act like you weren’t enjoying the show,” you smirk at him, taking a drag from the stick in your hands. Next to the two of you, Yoongi scoffs at your banter and takes the joint from you.

Once your hands are free from the vice, it opens your fingers up to run your hands down the length of Jungkook’s torso.

“Oh, believe me, I was. That doesn’t mean I didn’t feel jealous when everybody else got to see the show too, though.” A fake pout takes over his features. One of his hands travels downward from its grip on your waist to settle on the hem of your emerald dress. “Is this new?” His stare is obvious at the space where your dress meets your thigh.

“Mhm, I picked it up a few days back. Like it?” The smirk is evident in your voice, not like you’re trying to hide it. The garment had accomplished its job: make your flavor of the month drool.

His gaze slowly leaves your smooth thigh and reaches your eyes, his hands still toying with the edge of the fabric. “I know what you’re doing tonight.”

You feign innocence, “Oh? What am I doing?”

“Seducing me... As if you need to.” He laughs at your fake pout, taking the hand that hadn’t snaked back around your waist to run softly along your lips. He leans in until your foreheads meet. “It’s working, by the way.”

You don’t answer, instead, you close the small gap between your lips.

“Jesus, you two, just go upstairs already,” Yoongi groans, pushing at your knees.

Jungkook giggles into the kiss, and for a second the little cloud of lust surrounding the two of you dissipates. A little pang hits your heart just then, as you break your kiss from the boy below you.

If you had met under different circumstances, maybe the feelings you had brewing in your chest for Jungkook would be less offensive. But you were just a hookup, a weekend bed partner. Nothing more, nothing less. You pushed them aside and stood before offering Jungkook your hands. He grabs them without hesitation, and suddenly the lust is restored.

You follow the familiar path you’ve found yourself traveling every weekend for months. The fraternity’s house was a maze, but you knew it like the back of your hand, and you couldn’t find it in you to feel shame about it. You drag the boy behind you without a single glance backward. You didn’t need to, knowing his eyes didn’t leave your ass the whole time giving you the boost of confidence you crave.

When you reach his bedroom at the end of the hallway, Jungkook wastes no time spinning your body and pressing you hard into the door. The impact of his lips against yours pulls a mewl from your throat, your body keening against his in desperation. He responds by slipping his tongue into your mouth.

By now, the two of you had a routine, and the way you moved was almost like a dance; his arms sliding under to lift you, his spin in route to his bed, your grip in the hair at the base of his skull.

His body follows yours downward when he drops you on his sheets, never breaking the connection of your lips. “You don’t waste time anymore, huh, Gukkie?”

He sucks his teeth at the nickname, and attacks your neck, drawing a moan from you.

“And you still act like you’re going to be in charge, but we both know that's not true, is it, princess?” You blush at his words.

Of course, he was in charge, but he has yet to realize that the brattier you act, the more you get exactly what you want. You wondered how many more drunken hookups it would take for him to catch onto your game.

His hands quickly reach down to pull his t-shirt over his head, and you never get tired of the view that meets you when he does. The small waist, bulky chest, defined abs, and tattoos covering the expanse of his left side - it should be illegal to look as sinful as he does hovering over you. Jungkook proved that God does have favorites.

You sit up on your knees quickly to pull your dress over your head and don’t miss the small gasp that leaves the man in front of you. Forgoing underwear this evening seemed like the right choice, and this moment proves that for you.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Jungkook’s hand traces down your subtle curves before pulling your kneeling form against his own. You don’t miss the way the cold metal of his belt feels on your lower stomach, the anticipation building in your body for what’s about to happen.

As his mouth moves toward yours, just before they meet, you whisper, “Is that a promise?”

That’s all it took for him to finally snap.

Before you know it, you’re on your back and his head is between your legs. With the drugs and alcohol flowing through your system, every movement his lips make against your inner thighs feels like fire. You’re just about to sit up and groan at his avoidance of your center when he wraps his lips around your clit like his life depends on it.

Your head flies back to hit the pillow beneath it and you swear the coil in your stomach already begins to twist. Jungkook had a lot of things he could brag about. The top three? His body, his voice, and his devilish tongue, in all of its glory.

His mouth continues its assault on your bud, one of his hands reaching underneath to insert two fingers into your aching center.

“Fuck, Guk,” you moan. He hums, sending a vibration through your core. You were embarrassingly close to cumming. It was like you were under his spell.

“I can feel you squeezing around my fingers,” his voice drips with honey. The low tone was enough to push you over the edge. You saw stars behind your eyes and euphoria washed over your entire body. “That’s my girl.”

You don’t miss the sweet comment in your bliss, choosing to not think about it too much so it doesn’t swallow you whole.

Jungkook crawls upward and crashes his lips onto yours as your hands expertly undo his belt and the buttons of his jeans. He leans back on his legs to assist you in ridding himself of the last pieces of clothing that separate the two of you, breaking the seal of your lips and looking at you with a gaze that made you stop breathing for a moment.

It’s not like this was the first time you’ve seen him naked, far from it, but he never failed to take away your breath. If a human could be perfect, you’re sure it would be him.

He wastes no time in coming back to you, lips on yours as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in and his pretty eyes screw shut at the feeling. “Fuck, always so tight for me, baby girl.”

Your ego only has a second to absorb his compliment before your own senses are overtaken by the pleasure between your legs. “Give me a second, Guk, you’re so big,” you say as seductively as you can manage, but you know your words come out as more of a whine.

He only smirks before his lips work their magic against your neck. His tongue licks at the spot below your ears before he bites and tugs at your earlobes. Aside from his dominating personality in bed, Jungkook’s soft side for you always showed through, always waiting for permission, always putting your comfort first.

You nod your head in a gesture for him to continue.

There was no build-up to his bruising pace. As soon as you feel the grip of one hand on your waist and the other under your shoulder you know you’re not going to be able to walk straight the next day. His hips snap against yours, and with the angle of your legs, you can already feel your orgasm building again.

His mouth finds yours again, but the way he kisses you juxtaposes the way he’s fucking you in force and feeling. Jungkook’s lips are soft and sweet against yours, perfectly contrasting the hard thrusts from his hips. The combination alone draws a string of uncontrollable moans from your throat, one particularly hard thrust prompts you to scream his name.

“Shh, baby, I don’t want to get shit from the other guys anymore,” he pushes two of his fingers into your mouth. You moan again at their intrusion and happily accept them, not missing your opportunity to look at him with innocence in your eyes as you suck on the digits.

“Fuck.” He pulls his mouth from your fingers and before you can blink, he has you flipped onto your stomach. He lifts your hips a little to place a pillow underneath, and pushes himself back inside of you, all so quickly that you hadn’t even taken a breath before he was thrusting into you again.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the new angle. Jungkook drapes his body over you as he fucks into you from behind, using his tattooed hand to move your hair from your face. The same hand takes the liberty to wrap around your throat with the pressure he knows you like. When you smile at the feeling, he can’t help but kiss the corner of your mouth.

If only you knew the effect you had on him matched the one he had over you.

“Touch yourself for me, princess,” he whispers in your ear and you swear you’ve never moved faster; it was almost as if your movement were involuntary. His wish was your command.

“Guk, ‘m so close,” you manage to squeak out in broken breaths.

“Me too,” he groans. “Ladies first?” At that, he sits up and angles your hips higher to hit your g-spot with more force than before. In combination with your fingers working circles into your clit, the new angle is all it takes for you to come crashing down.

The man above you follows soon after, your involuntary clenching forcing him to meet his end. He quickly pulls himself out and aggressively strokes his release onto your back.

The collapse of your body causes the bed to seemingly swallow you whole. Jungkook falls directly next to you moments later. You both lay there, panting, blissed-out messes. His hand reaches up to push your hair off your face. When you make eye contact with him, you both turn into giggly messes. The current atmosphere of the room was lighthearted, contrasting the lecherous one that surrounded the two of you for most of the night.

Soon the post-sex haze fades, and you feel the sticky feeling of his release on your back and you feel dreadfully uncomfortable.

You kick your leg at the boy next to you. “Guk, towel please?”

He hums and rolls himself off the bed, somehow landing on his feet effortlessly. As he walks toward his bathroom, you admire the view. Who were you to deny yourself the simple pleasure of staring at his ass, if the opportunity presented itself?

He uses the towel to wipe the stickiness from your skin. His gentleness would surprise you, based on how different it was from how he approached sex, but you’ve been seeing Jungkook for a little over two months now. He had a surprisingly sweet demeanor. The towel is quickly discarded and you hum as you sit up.

“Thank you,” you giggle at him before standing up and heading toward the bathroom, not forgetting to retrieve your crumpled dress from the floor.

“Hey, are you going home?” Jungkook asks quickly when he notices the garment hanging from your hand.

“Um, I was thinking about it. Why?” You say hesitantly while you stand at the threshold of the bathroom, you suddenly feel shy under his gaze. An indiscernible look passes through his eyes at your words.

“I just… I can take you back if you want me to. Or... I mean, only if you want to… you could stay here. Maybe?”

This was new to you. You’ve never seen Jungkook look so unsure of himself. Normally, the picture of confidence personified, the frat boy in the bed before you looks small, almost timid. You could feel your heart doing backflips at his proposal.

It wasn’t the first time you and Jungkook had spent the night together, but that was normally only when you two were both too incapacitated to operate a car. This feels different, somehow; if it was because you started to realize how you feel about Jungkook, you aren’t sure.

But what you were sure of was that you could never say no to him. You wordlessly make your way back to the bed and curl up in his arms. If nothing else, you can feel his love for the night and move on with your day by morning. As the end of another cycle draws near, you silently hope it will begin again, as it always does. Jungkook, as he holds you against his chest, is the last thing on your mind when you drift asleep.

You suspect he’s going to take up a permanent residence in there, no matter how much you try to avoid it.

The next morning, you wake up before Jungkook. After dreaming of him all night, you’re absolutely terrified by the prospect of being there when he wakes up.

There was no fear that he would stir with your movements about his room as you collect all of your things. He slept like a rock and you’re pretty sure that not even a tornado, hurricane, or any other apocalypse-causing natural disaster could wake him up in the morning.

You sneak out of his bedroom wearing his massive t-shirt and a pair of boxers he had lent you before you fell asleep last night. The door clicks shut and of course, Yoongi’s bedroom door across the hall is wide open as you’re leaving.

The shit-eating grin on his face is enough to convey his amusement at the situation before him. He raised his hands to his forehead and salutes you, prompting your middle finger to raise and give him a salute of your own.

You don’t give him enough time to make a comment to you about the clothes before scurrying to the stairs. You sit on the top steps and hastily slide on your boots. Thankfully you chose the chunky Doc knockoffs in lieu of the heels you were originally planning. You were already obviously doing the walk of shame, at least you had decent shoes to do it in to keep a sliver of your dignity.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs, you note the state of the party room on your way to the front door. It looks like a booze-filled bomb had gone off; there were red solo cups covering the floor and the smell of alcohol hit you squarely in the face. You quicken your pace because if you stay any longer, you could see yourself getting violently ill.

The sun nearly burns your eyes out of your head when you open the door. You have to take a second to adjust to the light before you can move down the front steps. The cul-de-sac where all the frat houses resided was in a similar state to what you saw inside. Finals week was over and everybody took the opportunity to celebrate it.

Your phone starts vibrating in the small clutch in your hand when you reach the sidewalk. The name on the screen pulls a groan from your throat, you were too hungover to be berated right now.

“You’re lucky I have your location, otherwise I would kill your stupid ass for leaving me to wonder where you went last night,” Jimin’s smirk was evident through the phone.

“Should I really have to tell you when we’re in Jungkook’s fraternity where I’m going to end up when the night ends?” You quip back at him and he giggles at you.

“When are you coming home? Last I checked you were still there.” You hear shuffling on his end of the line and you suspect that he’s just now getting out of bed himself.

You pull your phone away from your face quickly and realize it’s almost noon. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was that late. I’m walking back now, I’ll be home in a minute.” You don’t wait for his response before hanging up.

It was moments like this that you were glad your apartment was only a street over from the fraternity village. When you and Jimin had scouted out your place, it was solely for the price and quality that you chose it. Your proximity to your campus’s party central was an added bonus.

It’s comical the way Jimin stands on the balcony with his sunglasses on and his hip popped to the side. You can’t help but stop at the door to your building and laugh at him.

“I thought shackers were supposed to be out by 11?” He asks cheekily.

“Oh please, when you find some poor girl to share your time with, I go whole weekends without seeing you!”

His jaw drops in feigned offense, but he says nothing. He breaks the character with a chuckle and reenters your apartment, you do the same. When you reach the second story, your hand doesn’t even make it to the doorknob before your roommate pulls it open. He grabs you by the wrist and drags you through the door.

“You can shower when you tell me what happened last night. We weren’t even there for an hour before you disappeared.” He spins you by your shoulders to sit you on the couch.

To anybody on the outside, Jimin and your relationship was odd, but you made it work. Two years ago, you and he had met at a party, shamelessly flirted, kissed, and immediately recoiled. Kissing Jimin felt wrong, and he shared your sentiment in that regard. From then on though, you and he had been thick as thieves, attached at the hip, and any other expression that conveyed best-friendship. You two told each other everything, including anecdotes about your sex life, which is usually the point at which any outsider to your relationship got uncomfortable with your candidness.

“What can I say, Jimin, I went there for one purpose and I very quickly got exactly what I wanted.” You giggle, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You’re hoping he didn’t catch it.

Of course, though, the boy above you knew you like the back of his hand. Nothing you could do or say at this point would stop the quizzical look in his eyes. “Spill, Y/N.”

You dropped your head and rubbed the back of your neck before you dramatically threw yourself into the back of the couch. “I think I’m starting to like him,” you admit, with as little emotion as you can muster. You don’t know why, but the urge to cry right now is strong. You toss the feelings back into the deep abyss that is your subconscious before they can take over.

“Woah, hey!” He drops onto the couch beside you with concern in his eyes. “It’s time to run. We don’t do feelings for people in this house, were young, out-of-control college kids remember. We don’t have time for that.”

“I know, Jimin, but he’s so addicting. Like one minute he is drilling me into the mattress and the next he’s kissing my cheek and telling me how pretty I am. It makes my brain go to mush!”

“Damn, he’s good.”

“Jimin,” you warn. The look in your eyes tells him to watch his words carefully.

“Alright, in all seriousness, you know what kind of guy he is. I’m honestly surprised that you’ve slept with him for this long. I don’t remember the last time you’ve kept a guy around for longer than a couple of weeks.”

It was true. It sounded worse than it was, you would go through bursts of “uncontrollable horniness” as Jimin called it. You could go months without having sex, but then you would find a guy to sleep with for a couple of weeks until you got bored or he tried to cuff you, then you would cut it off and move into another dry spell. It was unconventional sure, but it worked for you. Jimin only had so much room to make fun of you for it, he was a certified man-whore.

“I don’t know, dude. I know I should stop because I can feel myself getting attached to him, but I just… I don’t want to.” You groan at your situation. Why did you have to pick the most perfect human on the planet as your booty call?

“Which is exactly why you need to stop. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, babe, but I doubt he shares yours.” You only nod at his statement and stare blankly at the ceiling.

A few moments of silence pass between the two of you before he pats your thigh and stands up. “C’mon smelly, go take a shower, you smell like dick,” Jimin grins at you and reaches out his hand to drag you off the couch.

You half-heartedly laugh at him and take his hand. He pushes you toward your bathroom before going back to the kitchen to make the two of you something to eat.

The person staring back at you in the mirror looks like she’s been hit by a train. There’s mascara smeared under your eyes and your hair closely resembles a bird’s nest. While you’re rubbing the makeup from your eyes with a wipe, your phone vibrates on the counter next to you.

*12:13 pm*

Gukkie: Hey, when did you leave? Sorry I slept through it haha

Speak of the devil and he doth appear.

You ignore the text and strip before hopping into the shower. Silently, you hope that the scalding water will burn last night from your memory.

“Damn, was your shower long enough? I thought I was going to have to send a rescue party in there,” Jimin teases as you step out of your bathroom.

“The only way to kill the diseases you pick up in a frat house is to burn them off your skin.”

You slide into the stool at your kitchen counter as Jimin sets a mug of your favorite tea and waffles in front of you. You thank him with a smile and he only smiles back before going back to his own nearly finished plate of food.

“Do you want to talk about it some more?” Jimin asks you, and for a second you consider playing dumb as to the subject he’s referring to, but you know it won’t work.

“I honestly don’t know. Ask me later?”

He nods and grabs your hand from across the counter, sending you a wink. “You got it.”

It’s when you’re bingeing a new show with Jimin later that evening that you remember you never bothered to answer Jungkook. Your phone on the coffee table was now pulling your attention completely away from the murder docu-series on the TV. Jimin is engrossed with the show and pays very little attention when you grab the device from the table.

When you unlock your screen, the little number icon hovering next to your messages alerts you to how much you’ve neglected your phone today. You open the app and scroll through, reading the various messages left for you by friends and family. Thankfully, all were unimportant, usually, just funny pictures or links that they thought you would find amusing.

You’re giggling at a message from your mom about your dog back home when you back out of the conversation and notice the only unread message was the one you had been avoiding since the early afternoon.

(12:13 pm) Gukkie: Hey, when did you leave? Sorry I slept through it haha

You debate just ignoring it altogether and just dealing with it the next time you saw him. That would be soon enough, considering that summer break was here and you knew that he wouldn’t be going home as most college students do. You decide against that. At the very least you want to keep him on your good side, you had never ignored him for this long. While your text conversations weren’t the most thrilling, the small bit of connection was enough to keep the two of you on the same page. At each other’s beck and call, that was.

(10:41 pm) You: i left around noon! i didn’t want to wake you up. i’ll bring your clothes back soon

You locked your screen after sending the message and returned your attention to the screen. That was indifferent enough, right?

Not even thirty seconds after you sent the message, the device vibrates on the couch next to you and you’re embarrassed at how quickly you scramble to pick it up. You look across the couch at your roommate, and he’s staring right back at you.

“Did he text you?” He asks, almost nonchalantly, but you pick up on a little bit of something in his voice. Disapproval, maybe?

For any of his faults, Jimin more than makes up for it in the way he cares about you like a sister. It’s almost as if he can sense that you’re probably going to get hurt by a stupid frat boy.

“Uh, yeah. But I’m just asking him when he’s free so I can drop his clothes off. That’s all,” you quickly reply and you silently applaud yourself for the steadiness of your voice. He has a look in his eyes that says he wants to say more on the subject, but he doesn’t. Instead, he chooses to only nod and return his attention back to the screen. He grabs onto your calves the are slung across him in a silent gesture: I’m here for you, always.

(10:42 pm) Gukkie: Don’t worry about it! I’m sure I’ll see you soon ;)

(10:43 pm) You: something tells me you’re right about that

(10:43 pm) Gukkie: Maybe you could swing by tomorrow, sometime? I’ll be at the house all day so you can drop the clothes off

Right, as if you would only drop off his clothes and leave.

(10:44 pm) You: sure, i’ll talk to you tomorrow !

(10:44 pm) Gukkie: Sleep tight, princess :)

You don’t sleep.

You’re pacing back and forth with Jungkook’s clothes in your hand, debating whether or not to ding dong ditch and leave them on his porch. Last night, what very little sleep you did get was plagued by dreams of the curly-haired frat boy down the road. The feelings you felt for him are surprisingly strong, considering you just realized you really did like him. Maybe they had been building up for a while and when you allowed yourself to accept them, they hit you harder.

Regardless of why they were so pervasive was lost on you, but there was no denying their presence. You could feel anxious hies rising up your neck at the thought of facing Jungkook.

On one hand, you’re dealing with the excitement about seeing his cute bunny smile and inevitably, his sculpted body, if this visit turned into how you suspected it would. On the other hand, you’re terrified. Every time you spend your time with Jungkook, those feelings are probably only going to grow.

This would be the last time with him, you decide before you walk out of your apartment building. You already know that there is no way you could say no to him, so if he decided that he wanted to have sex with you today, that’s exactly what was going to happen. It’s not like you don’t want to. You’d be a fool to turn down sex with him, but you fear the way it made you feel. After Saturday night, it was obvious that you felt more than the normal, post-sex happiness when you were with him.

His fraternity’s house comes into view, the parking lot nearly empty signaling that most of his brother’s had gone home for the summer. His car and Yoongi’s remained, among a few others. You roll your eyes seeing the elder’s vehicle, knowing that he was going to tease you either on your way in or out.

You hesitate a little at the front door, unsure if you should knock or just walk in. Strangely enough, in the two months you had been sleeping with Jungkook, you had never been to the house during the day.

You don’t get to think about how odd it is seeing the brick building during the day when the door opens and the boy who’s been haunting your dreams beams at you with his infuriatingly adorable smile.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly. “Here are your clothes… I washed them.” You thrust the clothes forward into his hand.

He runs his free hand through his hair and snickers. “Thanks, you didn’t have to wash them.”

“It’s no problem!” You say a little too eagerly and you’re slapping yourself for it.

“Are you going to come in or just stand there and stare at me?” He asks you with an amused look on his face.

“Shut up,” you say as you brush past him and walk into the house. You don’t bother looking back at him as you follow the path up to his bedroom, knowing he’s following you, as he always does.

You’re not sure when the rain started, but the sounds were lulling you into a peaceful afternoon slumber. Jungkook’s bedsheets were always clean, unlike most of the guys you slept with. The soft fabric against your naked body, mixed with the soft light and sounds from the weather outside, gave you a sense of calm you hadn’t felt in the last 48 hours.

Your head is turned toward the window, eyes shut. It wasn’t that you were necessarily avoiding looking at Jungkook, lately, it seemed like it was the only thing you wanted to do, but you just happened to fall in that position after the activities of the last two hours.

Jungkook is sitting on his side, resting his head on one hand as he looks out the same window. He sighs, but you have a hard time in your half-conscious state determining the meaning behind the sigh. For now, you were just content with the soft fingers he was using to draw patterns across your exposed back. You couldn’t think about much past that.

“Y/N, are you asleep?” He asks while scooting closer to you. You hum in response and turn your head to face him. He uses his hand to brush your hair away from your face, so tenderly you barely feel his fingers when they run across your cheeks. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“No, I’m awake, just resting my eyes.” You slowly open your eyes and take note of him. He has a small smile on his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

A pang of something akin to hurt strikes you in the heart. You realize that he’s probably trying to kick you out. It was the middle of the day and you were overstaying your welcome.

“I’m sorry, I just realized I’m probably taking up your whole day,” you sat up quickly and bend toward the foot of the bed to grab your top.

“Wait,” he rushes out and pulls you back down to lay down and face him. “Stay with me for a little bit. At least until the rain stops?”

You look down at the bedsheets below you and pick at a ball of fuzz to distract yourself. A sad smile graces your features when you look back at him. “I don’t think I should.”

“Oh… Okay,” he looks upset at that but you don’t want to think about it too long before you sit up again and put your clothes back on. When you return to the bed to grab your phone, you notice that he’s gotten himself back into a pair of basketball shorts and is watching you as you move about his space. “At least let me drive you home?”

You nod your head in agreement and smile at him. “Thank you.”

The walk to the door and following dash to his car through the rain is silent between the two of you. Luckily, though you know he was lurking somewhere, you didn’t have to face Yoongi. It was the small victories that would take you through today.

The drive lasted less than two minutes but felt like fiver years with the awkward silence that hung around you. It was clear by your actions that this would be over after today, neither of you having to actually say the words out loud.

Jungkook pulled into the spot right in front of the door to your building. At least he wasn’t going to make you walk through the pouring rain. Hopefully, this meant that he wasn’t angry, or at the very least, his ego wasn’t bruised by your unspoken break-up, for lack of a better term.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say as chipper as possible given the circumstances. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.

“Yeah, sure… No problem.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck. You noticed he does it when he’s embarrassed or feels awkward without realizing it. You were going to miss that, among many other things.

You opened the door and were about to step out into the rain when he touches your shoulder. You look at him confused. He looks confused as well, shocked at his own hand for the involuntary action.

“I-I’ll see you around?” He asks, an indiscernible look in his eyes.

“I- yeah, I’ll see you around,” you smile at him gently. He pulls his hand back like the temperature of your skin is burning his own.

You quickly jump out of the car and run up to the front of the building - to avoid as much rain as you could and to get away from the boy behind you. You don’t look back.

When you push open the door to your apartment, Jimin is sitting in the recliner and scrolling through his phone. It only takes one look at your slightly damp clothes and the tears welling up in your eyes for him to hop out of his seat and make it to you at record speed.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Jimin soothes his hand down your unruly hair as you lightly cry against his shoulder. “Did you tell him anything?”

You shake your head. What would be the point? When you and Jungkook agreed to forgo sleeping with other people and engage in a friends-with-benefits-type relationship, you both made it clear that there were to be no feelings involved. You knew he wouldn’t have changed his mind about that. The only thing to gain from sharing your feelings with him would be outright rejection, and you’d rather not deal with that.

Jimin just goes back to patting your head and rocking you lightly, not caring that your hair and clothes were getting him damp too. You don’t know what you did in a past life to be so fortunate to have him as your best friend.

You’re standing like that for quite a while before you both hear a knock at your door. You move out of the way to sit on the couch and let Jimin answer the door. The last thing you wanted the person at the door to see were your bloodshot eyes and shaggy appearance.

“Can I talk to Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice startles you up off the couch. Your panicked movements draw the attention of both your roommate and the frat boy. Jimin just smiles slightly at you and moves out of the way before walking into his room. You had a feeling he would listen to the whole conversation though his door.

You walked up to the door with your head down. His breathing was ragged at as you scanned from his feet up to his eyes, you found that he was soaked. “Why are you soaked?”

“I ran here.”

“But you just drove me home?”

“Oh, I, uh, got home and forgot I was going to loan my car to one of my brother’s and then I… ran here.” He explains, but the confused look in your eye is enough to tell him that you’re not following his story whatsoever. You didn’t understand why he had to come back to your apartment, nor his urgency in doing so.

“What are you doing here?” You wish you sounded a little less sad when you said that, but you didn’t really care at this point.

“I came because I need to say something to you. I- wait have you been crying?” Jungkook steps closer to you and grabs your cheeks to look into your eyes. It takes everything in you not to melt into him and grab his hands from your cheeks.

“What did you have to tell me, Guk?” You ask him in the most even voice you can manage.

“No, Y/N answer me first, please?” Your outright rejection of his touch doesn’t stop him from running his hands up and down your arms.

“Yes,” you answer, your voice uneven as your eyes betray you and begin to well up again.

Jungkook pulls you against his body, holding you tightly against him. “Why?” He whispers the question so quietly in your ear, almost as if he raises his voice any higher you would shatter.

You take a shaky breath, deciding to just say it. “You.”

He pulls back abruptly to look you in the eyes, the confusion across his brow mixes with hurt in his eyes. “Me?”

“I like you,” you blurt out, tears slowing to a gradual drip. “But I know you don’t feel the same, so please don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks, but the look is still painted across his features.

“With pity.”

“Pity? I’m just confused.” He readjusts his grip on you to bring a hand back to your cheek. You can feel your heart pounding out of your chest while he forces you to look into his eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he just brings your face forward to crash his lips into your own. It’s different from the kisses you’ve shared in the past. The ones before filled with lust, this one was tender and intense.

“Y/N, I like you too. Why do you think I ran through the rain to get back here?” He puts his forehead against yours.

“You do?” You pull your forehead from his to meet his eyes.

“Obviously. I was going to tell you earlier but you seemed like you wanted to go home so badly, so I figured I screwed up.” He sighed, a small smile of relief on his face.

“You should’ve said it earlier then, dummy!” You playfully smacked his chest and sniffled.

“I wish I would’ve, then I wouldn’t have had to see you cry.” The hand on your cheek slips behind your head and pulls you forward so he could plant a kiss on your forehead. When he loosens his grip, you pull back to look at him.

“Would you like to come inside?” You motion behind you. Jungkook answers by kissing you back into your apartment.

He breaks apart from you once the door is shut and looks at you with a cocky grin on his face. “Wait until I rub it in Yoongi’s face that you’re my girlfriend. He said you would never say yes.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” You ask while grinning up at him. There was a lot that had to be addressed in that statement, but you decided to let it slide for a later conversation.

“Uh, yeah… Is that okay?” He looks a little insecure, realizing what that he said without asking you if you wanted that.

You just giggle at him and kiss him again. You nod into the kiss, that was growing much more heated by the second.

“And that's my cue! I’m leaving,” Jimin escapes from his room and runs out the door before either of you can blink. You both laugh at your best friend's antics.

“I’ll steal you some dry clothes from his room,” you say as you turn to walk into Jimin’s room.

Jungkook quickly grabs you from behind and kisses the spot below your ear. “Who says I need clothes?”

You turn your head to look at him and consider glaring for a second. The blinding bunny smile pointed in your direction squashes any of your ideas about reprimanding him. He kisses your cheek and runs into your bedroom, stripping off his clothes along the way. You giggle at his behavior.

“Baby! I’m naked and I’m in your bed - a little disappointed that you aren’t!”

Again, who were you to say no?

a/n: im not even sure if anybody is really active on this blog anymore, but i got bored and decided to write this! it is unedited, i dont really mind though :) this is for the people that sent me messages saying that they would want to see this once it was finished. i did write it under the influence initially (as stated previously, i am of legal age!!), so it required quite a bit of editing! sorry for the delay!

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #college!jungkook #college!bts

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i’ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

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weelittleweasley · 3 years

Text

sheer brilliance (f.w.)

prompt: being a teacher’s assistant at a local college, you are assigned to a philosophy professor who is notorious for being young, cocky, and undeniably handsome. does his arrogance get in the way of you getting or job done? or is it his looks?

pairing: professor! fred x teacher’s assistant! reader

warnings: typically frowned upon relationships (oopsie i love forbidden romances that are legal and consentual mwah), language, food, drinking, alcohol

word count: 15k (I am so sorry I really couldn’t help myself)

author’s note: there won’t be a direct part two of this, but you can bet ur sweet booty that i will be writing more prof!fred in this universe because he’s just so HNNNGG

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart @kaseyrose96-blog @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @PaintballKid711 @vogueweasley @freddie-weaselbee @freds-slut @missmulti @gryffindcrghost @wand3ringr0s3 @valwritesx @sweeterthansammy @loonylovegood13 @lostaurorax

“It’s so nice to see another young face here,” a blonde haired girls sighs next to you as you swipe your ID card to enter the university building for your first official day of work. “I thought I was going to be the only new TA here,” she confides in you as your shoes click down the corridor as you make your way through the halls.

You flash her a comforting smile, “Same here. But I think there’s more of us on the way. Besides, we’re relatively early.”

As a last year graduate student, you needed to be a teaching assistant in order to get your degree and finish your course requirements. It wasn’t an opportunity you were thrilled about, but it would give you hands on teaching experience in a university setting that could be very valuable. That was, if you had the right professor.

“I’m Luna, by the way,” the girl next to you chimes as she fixes the strap of her purse, offering you her hand to shake, gladly accepting it. “I’m a TA for Women and Gender Studies,” she adds proudly.

“I’m (Y/N),” you smile, “TA for Philosophy.” Luna looks impressed as you tell her about your area of study, making you laugh. “I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds. I quite like it, actually. Just hoping the professor I’m assisting is a good one,” you nervously speak, turning the corner to walk to the Dean’s office.

Luna shakes her head, “I hear you. It’s definitely nerve wracking, but Hogwarts University has some of the top rated professors in the country, so I really don’t think we’ll have many problems in that department.”

You suck in a deep breath as you nod. The university was quite prestigious, you were shocked when you were informed you would be assisting here, but honored nonetheless. However, there was still a pool of nerves that swam around in your stomach as you thought about the professor you would be assisting. You could have a someone who was so knowledgeable in your field of study or someone who was a complete ass. It was a dice roll. “One can only hope,” you sigh before arriving in front of the Dean’s door, placing three knocks on the wooden door.

The door swings open to reveal a happy looking man, brown hair combed back and a toothy grin on his face. He wore houndstooth pants with a white button down tucked in and a neatly tied bow tie around his neck, matching the color pattern of his pants. His face glowed with excitement as he beamed, “Ms. Lovegood, Miss (Y/L/N), so glad to finally have you with us!” You and Luna offered him a warm smile in return as he opened his office door wider for the two of you to enter. “Welcome to Hogwarts! I’m Dean Longbottom, but you two can just call me Neville,” he smiles as he sits behind his desk adorned with small succulents and stationary. “I’ve been anticipating your arrival along with the other teaching assistants for awhile. It’s so nice that we have such a large pool of you for this semester. The professors are quite lucky to get quite a brilliant bunch like you,” he compliments.

“Speaking on behalf of all the TAs, I think I can confidently say we feel honored to be here,” Luna smiles softly as the dean chuckles and you nod.

Neville nods his head, “We are honored to have you.” You and Luna thank him before he begins again, “So, the two of you have some time before you are reporting to your classrooms for lecture. How about I give you the tour of the campus? A proper Hogwarts welcome?”

You and Luna excitedly agree and Dean Longbottom starts to walk you through the hallways of the beautiful university. The university had once been castle during the Gothic era, still maintaining the same structure. Beautiful hallways, paintings of founders hung in the walls, windows adorned with stained glass as sunlight seeped through. “The dining hall is on the left over here,” Neville gestures, revealing a large room lined with tables, school flags hanging high as students varying in year gather to chat and eat. “And if you look ahead, you’ll find the campus courtyard. It’s beautiful this time of year with the flowers in full bloom,” Neville smiles to himself. “Across the street are the campuses houses. Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Syltherins, and Hufflepuffs,” he points as you see tall houses, coated in paint of their respective colors. “I myself was a Gryffindor when I was a student,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you and Luna. “Other than that, I think that concludes the tour. Here are your staff lanyards and your professor assignments have been forwarded to you in your emails. There’s still some time left before lecture, so feel free to hang around campus or in the staff lounge. If you need anything, please, don’t hesitate. I’ll see you two very soon!” he waves before disappearing down the hall.

In this moment, you take the time to look around the hall to see the bustling student body, smiling and laughing as they make their way down the halls. You softly smile to yourself, reminiscing about when you were an undergraduate. A freshman in the halls, excited for university. Now, you were nearly done with graduate school, soon to be a certified professor. Time had flown by in the blink of an eye.

“You want to take a peak in the staff lounge?” Luna disturbs your thoughts.

Turning to her, you give her a smile and a nod before walking up the stairs three levels to reach the staff lounge. Inside were a few professors scattered here and there, but mostly there were TAs. The room radiated buzzing nervous energy as red lanyards signifying TA status hung around a few necks. One of the boys sitting at the table spotted the red lanyard and spoke cooly, “You’ve found the right place.”

He rose from his chair and walked over to you and Luna with a shocking amount of confidence. His jet black hair was gelled back neatly, a crisp light blue button up and handsome tie clung on his neck as he stuck out a hand for you to shake. “Name’s Harry,” he proudly shook your hand. “I was a TA here two years ago, now in charge of the TA program and coordinator for the math department. You two look new. Not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just I could sense it,” he laughs.

“(Y/N),” you shake his hand firmly as he smiles. Luna does the same with a small smile. “You’re right about the new part. It’s both our first semesters here,” you confirm.

Harry nods and walks back to his chair, leaning back, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Nice. What’s your area of focus?” he asks.

Luna grabs a seat and speaks, “Women and Gender Studies. You by any chance know a Ginevra Weasley? She’ll be the professor I’m assisting this semester.”

Harry lets out a chuckle before an unfamiliar voice speaks up, “Oh, Potter is familiar here with Ms. Ginevra Weasley. That’s his fiancé.” You turn around to face a smirking face as he sips on his piping cup of black coffee. “I’m Seamus Finnegan. Head TA for the chemistry department,” he introduces. “You’ve lucked out,” he tells Luna. “Ginny is the best in the department. She’s a hard ass, but you’ll learn a lot from her.”

Luna smiles to herself, “Very excited to get started then.”

“What about you?” Harry nods to you as Seamus slides into a seat next to Harry. “Area of study?”

“Philosophy,” you reply cooly. Seamus gives you an impressed look as Harry smiles lightly. “Specifically Ethics,” you add on. “I’m assisting another Weasley, actually?” you look at Luna. “Are they by any chance related?” you ask Harry and Seamus.

The two of them just chuckle as Harry sighs, “Yeah, the whole family basically teaches here. You’ll learn fast. They all got jobs at the same time since their father is on the board of directors. All of them deserve to be here though. Brilliant professors, all of them.”

You let out a sigh of relief that you didn’t realize you were holding in. Confirmation that you had a more than capable professor was good news.

Seamus continues on Harry’s tangent. “Basically one in each department,” he shrugs. “Ginny is a women and gender studies professor, Percy is the head of the business department, Charles is in the vet school, Bill is an adjunct professor now, but he’s in the language department with a focus in French, Ron is the European History professor and by the looks of it, he’ll be the head of the department next year, George is the chemistry professor I assist, and then there’s Fred w-”

“That’s the one,” you interrupt. “He’s the one I’m assisting this semester. How’s he? Do you have any intel that could help a new bee out?” you ask hopefully with a glimmer of jest in your voice. But the look on Harry and Seamus’ faces make your stomach do a flip. They look at each other knowingly as Seamus lets out a small chuckle. He mutters a small yikes before sipping on his coffee and excuses himself from the table to go attend his lecture with George. “What was that look about? Is he a lazy professor?” you groan.

Harry lightly laughs and shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck. “Fred Weasley is a great professor, no need to worry about that. He’s just...how do I put this without getting fired?” he whispers the last bit to himself as your eyes widen and you lean in closer with a what?, making Harry shake his head. “It’s not bad, I swear, he’s not like...unstable or anything. He’s just very cocky. Fred is good at his job and he knows it. He doesn’t let anyone forget it. He’s been ranked top professor at the school for the past three years and wears it like a badge of honor.”

Great, a cocky professor. A narcissist. Just what you needed when starting a job that could determine the fate of your career. You sigh and flop back in your chair as Luna gives you a sympathetic look. “Bloody brilliant,” you huff.

“He’s a great professor though!” Harry tries to make light of the conversation. “Fred has been teaching straight out of university, so he knows what he’s doing. Students really admire him and his lectures are some of the best that I’ve seen. He knows how to have fun in the class, but he doesn’t take any bullshit,” Harry reassures you as you give him a weak nod. It was nice to hear that he was at least respected and admired by the students. Maybe you could learn to do the same.

Luna takes a look at her watch and gives you a nudge. “It’s twenty minutes until the new lecture block. Reckon we should introduce ourselves to our professors?” she asks as you sigh with a reluctant nod. After that bit of information you just received, you were less excited to meet your professor. “It was nice meeting you, Harry,” she beams to Harry as you two rise from your seats.

“Lovely meeting you two. I’m sure I’ll catch you around in the halls,” he winks friendly before you both exit the staff lounge.

Nervously, you played with the cuffs of your turtleneck, walking down the halls, parting with Luna, wishing the other good luck in their first lecture. As you strolled the hallway of the fifth floor, searching from room 523 where Philosophical Ethics would take place. You wondered how he would look. Old, no doubt. Harry said he’s been teaching since he graduated which had to mean he was in his late forties. Was he a cranky old white man? Great. Just fantastic. He probably had the traditional way of teaching which meant he sat at the front of the classroom and spoke at the class for three hours. Your worst nightmare. How could someone ruin something you loved?

You stumble upon the wooden door with golden paint etched into it 523. With a confident inhalation, you push the door open and enter the classroom, neatly set up for the next lecture. Three rows of eight, one next to the other. In the front of the classroom was a large chalkboard with the words Welcome to Ethics written in sloppy handwriting. Gently, there was soft jazz music playing from a small speaker, filling the classroom, saxophone and trumpet melodies echoing. Everything looked normal. Except for who sat at the desk.

At the front of the classroom, sitting at a dark brown desk was a tall, lean young man with tuffs of orange hair styled back. He wore a freshly ironed white button down that was tucked neatly into a pair of chestnut corduroys with matching brown chukka boots. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing off his muscular biceps and toned arms. A shiny silver Rolex watch was strapped on his left wrist as he tapped a pen against his desk. But you couldn’t get over how young he was. The youth in his face was lively as his dark chocolate eyes scanned over a paper in front of him. Your presence was unknown to him as he continued to flip through papers, dragging his pen across the margins.

Politely, you clear your throat, causing him to look up from his paper, looking up at you. When his eyes landed on yours, you gulped thickly. His whole face was undeniably attractive. His angled jaw, full lips, soft eyes. He gave you a confused look. “Lecture isn’t for another twenty minutes,” he told you before looking back down at his paper, almost dismissing you. “But feel free to have your choice in seat. I hope you don’t mind the music. Let me know if it’s distracting,” he tells you before flipping the pages again.

You inhale deeply. “Actually, Professor Weasley, I’m (Y/N),” you introduce yourself. Professor Weasley looks up at you with confused eyes, trying to put together your identity. “Your TA for the semester?” you speak with a small smile. “I’m very excited to get started with you.”

But before you can ask him what you could do to help set up the classroom, he speaks, “I didn’t ask for a TA.”

His words take you aback for a moment. Instead of an introduction or even a simple hello, he told you he didn’t ask for a TA. “I beg your pardon?” you ask with almost a laugh.

“I didn’t ask for a TA. I don’t need one,” he clarifies to you, rising from his desk as you gulp, taking in how tall he was, standing proudly above you. “I’ve never needed a TA in the past, and I don’t know who decided I needed one this year. After being voted best professor since I got here, I don’t understand why this is the year I need one,” he laughs, making his way around the desk, leaning against it, tucking his hands in his pockets.

You give him a disturbed look. Harry telling you that Fred Weasley was cocky was a damn understatement. The bloody guy was telling you to your face that you weren’t wanted or needed here. That he could do his job perfectly fine without you. “I’m sure you don’t need one, Professor, but this was my assignment. Dean Longbottom assigned me here and I’m just following what I was told to do in order to get my degree,” you tell him, trying to remain cool and polite when you’d rather tell him to suck it up and deal with it.

Fred run his fingers through his hair before placing them on either side of his body, leaning back into his desk, tongue pressed against his cheek. His biceps flexed underneath his tight white shirt, making you gulp, trying not to get distracted at the fact that your professor was not only a dick, but an incredibly handsome one. “Neville assigned you?” he laughed. “Alright. Well, I’ll go down to office and get this sorted away,” he huffed before standing up straight.

But before he could take a step further, you stopped him, now getting frustrated that this guy didn’t even try being nice to you. “Hold on,” you stopped him, fixing the strap of your purse on your shoulder before placing it on the desk next to you. “This job was assigned to me. There are no other TA positions available in the philosophy department this late in the game. I’m not gonna lose this job just because you allegedly don’t need a TA,” you try to keep cool, but the venom leaks out every now and then.

Fred gives you a light chuckle before speaking, “Not allegedly. I don’t need one. There’s a reason why I’m one of the most successful and youngest professors. I can run this class by myself without some grad student’s help.”

Now, you are pissed. “Alright, you know what?” you fold your arms over your chest. “I don’t appreciate being spoken to like this. I’ve worked very hard to get where I am and I will be respected. Regardless if I am a TA, or a student, or a co-worker. I am here to do a job and I will do that job no matter what anyone says,” you tell him as he just stares at you, a cocky smirk on his face that makes your blood boil. It was like he wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. “So how about we save ourselves the dramatics and just be satisfied with the fact that this is the situation?”

Fred just exhales and rubs hand over his face. You could tell he didn’t want you here, and quite frankly, you didn’t want to be here either after his little stunt. You were quite sure he was capable of running his own class, but you weren’t here to take his job. You were here to be an assistant to his teaching, being there to support and help him. This was a requirement for you, not a pastime. “Alright then,” he eventually states, making the way back to his desk. “You can grab a desk from the rows and bring it up to the front, I guess,” he huffs as you remain standing with your arms still folded across your chest.

He looks up and gives you a look. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” you ask with venom pouring from your glossed lips as you give him a sarcastic smile.

Fred gives you a sarcastic smile back as he drops his pen and speaks, “Fred Weasley. MA in Philosophy and Human Ethics. Cambridge Graduate. Cum laude.” The pride dripped from his voice as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. “And you are?”

You wanted to throw your shoe at his head, your blood was boiling at how arrogant and prideful this man was. “If you were listening before, you would know my name is (Y/N). MA in Philosophy and Human Ethics. University of Oxford. 3.98 GPA,” you mimic him.

Fred gives out a chuckle as you grab your purse and start to settle yourself in the room. “Oxford student? Fitting that our universities are rivals,” he huffs before pulling a desk and chair over for you, placing it near his desk.

“And why would that be?” you ask sarcastically as Fred bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to snap a snarky response back at you. “Listen, Fred, I’m just here to do my job and do it well. I’m not here to step on your toes. I’m here to finish my requirements so I can get certified,” you tell him as you stand beside your desk, smoothing out your plaid skirt that your turtleneck was tucked neatly into.

As you stand there, Fred’s eyes rake up and down your body, taking you in as a whole. The first time he’s done this since you walked in. His eyes are like magnets, scanning every inch of your body and how you carry yourself so confidently in the space. When his eyes reach yours, you inhale deeply, trying to prevent the heat from rising to your cheeks as your handsome superior checks you out. “I’m not worried about you, darling,” his thick accent coos. “You’re the least of my worries.”

Just as the words slip out of his mouth, students start to file into the classroom, greeting Fred with good mornings and how are you’s. You tell yourself to calm down, to remain friendly, and cool. As the students file in, Fred greets them all with a warm smile. “Welcome back everyone. This is Philosophical Ethics with Professor Weasley. You all can call me Professor, Professor Weasley, Fred, Professor Fred. Just not Freddie, that one is reserved for my mum,” he teases, earning a few chuckles from the class. He glances over to you with a small stare and begrudgingly introduces you, “This is (Y/N), my TA for the semester. She will be here with us for...?”

“The whole semester,” you remind him with a sweet smile contrasted by your daggers for eyes. “Looking forward to working with you all,” you tell the class with a warm smile, receiving a few back in return.

Fred sighs, “Right. Well, anyway, let’s take roll and then get right into things, yeah?” The class nods as you sigh. “Alright, who can talk to me about Nietzsche?”

This was going to be a long semester.

Three hours of the class went by at a sluggish pace. Not to mention, Fred didn’t extent an invitation for your opinion or thoughts during the lesson. You didn’t expect him to let you teach the class, but instead, you just sat and listened to him run the class.

Although he didn’t let you say much, you had to admit that his lecture was quite good. He led the class in a really interesting way, almost like a Socratic seminar type. He let his students make observations and create open dialogues about the philosophy you were covering. Fred encouraged student’s thoughts rather than shut them down and he tried to encourage everyone to participate to make sure everyone said what they wanted to say. But you, he didn’t extend that offer.

Instead, you took notes. Notes on Fred Weasley. The way he spoke with his hands, how he sloppily wrote on the board with chalk, underlining words, circling, and drawing small diagrams. How he folded his arms across his chest when someone brought up a provocative thought. How he nibbled on his bottom lip when a student asked him a question. How he glanced over at you every once in awhile, catching your eye and smirking when he caught you looking at him. You would roll your eyes and continue to scribble down his mannerisms, what he focused on in class, and how he conducted it.

The students ate up everything that fell from his lips. It was like magic, the way he could capture 20 students attention about something as niche as existentialism. But you couldn’t lie, Fred Weasley was captivating.

“Okay, for next week’s class read Nicomachean Ethics and start drawing comparisons and differences between Aristotle and Nietzsche,” Fred announces as he closes his book and dismisses his students for the day, a chorus of thank you’s and have a good day’s echo in the classroom.

The final student exits as Fred retires back to his desk, sorting papers and filing away miscellaneous papers. You click your pen as you watch him, waiting for him to break the silence. But instead he sits at his desk and starts scribbling into his planner. With a sigh, you break the silence and speak, “You give a really informative lecture. You engage with the students really well.”

You thought a compliment would be a peace offering. An olive branch of sorts. But Fred took it as an opportunity to dig into you. “I know. That’s why it’s a full class and I’ve got a waitlist 30 kids long,” he speaks without looking up at his desk.

The guy was cocky as all hell and he was letting you soak it all in. The grip on your pen grows tighter as you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth in irritation, trying to maintain a steady facade. “So,” you breathe out as you grab your bag, pulling your notebook from your back. “You want to talk about lesson plans? I see that you’ve assigned Aristotle for the next week and a half. Maybe a smooth transition would be going into Kant and talking about the categorical imperative?” you suggest, sitting on a desk in front of Fred’s.

He peers up at you through his lashes, your legs dangling from the desk. He gives you all of his attention as he pushes his sleeves further up his arms, fiddling with the lock on his Rolex. “I’ve already taken care of the lesson plans for the rest of the semester. It’s all planned out. It has been since last month,” he explains to you as you nod your head, thinking he would offer something else for you to do.

“Okay,” you trail off. “Is there...anything you want me to do? Coordinate office hours? Set up my own as well so I can be a resource to the students. I can give you my phone number and email to put on the syllabus, so the students know they can reach out to me if they have any questions,” you tell him as you start to scribble down your email and number.

But Fred shakes his head, “Won’t be necessary. If a student needs you, they’ll come to you. Besides, they should really come to me if they need anything since I have more knowledge about the course.”

His passive comments were starting to pile up on you as you inhale deeply, your chest heaving. The turtleneck around your body felt very warm as anger started to bubble in your chest. “Maybe if you told me about the course, I could be a valuable resource to students. Remember, I’m just as qualified as you. I just haven’t graduated yet,” you remind Fred as you lean back on the desk, legs swinging back and forth as Fred starts to pack up his briefcase.

“Yet,” he looks up at you with a smirk, pink lips curled upwards as he leans over his desk, gathering his things. Even though the smirk was condescending as all hell, it did something to you. In more than one way. It made anger gather in your chest, frustration tingle in your temples, but butterflies pitter patter away deep in your stomach.

“So what exactly do you want me to do?” you ask, folding your arms across your chest as Fred grabs his jacket with one hand, his briefcase in the other as he does a once over his desk.

Calmly, Fred speaks, “You can start by filing away those papers on my desk and then once that’s done, make a list of the students in grade point average order. I want to know who needs the most help and who is fine on their own.” After he gives you that direction, he starts for the door.

With a scoff, you hop down from the desk. “And you’re just going to leave?” you laugh at him as he place his hand on the door with a shrug. “You know I am a teaching assistant. Not your personal assistant,” you spit at him.

Fred swings the door open and stands there with a smile. “Teaching is more than just standing front of a room as talking out of your ass, dear,” he tells you as the nickname makes you bite your tongue from yelling at him.

“You really are arrogant, you know that?” you sneer at him with your hands on your hips, glaring at him. You stare at him as he stands in front of the open door, jacket laid over his forearm, leather briefcase in hand, his other hand combing through his fire red hair.

Fred smiles lightly to you before sighing, “I’m bloody brilliant, (Y/N). You would be arrogant, too.” His words make you shake your head with a scoff. “Sort those papers for me, won’t you? I’ll see you tomorrow in here. Early. 9am sharp.”

But before you can ask him why, he’s out the door and calling after another professor, leaving you alone to your own devices. You let out a frustrated groan as you cover your face with your hands. Of course, you got stuck with the prick professor who takes advantage of an extra set of hands. You walk over to his desk and see a small stack of papers to be sorted and filed away along with the list he wanted you to organize.

You plop yourself into the desk seat and carefully start going through each file, examining each student’s credentials, organizing them by GPA and last name. You note who could be a tutor and who needs a tutor, who is at exit level, who is at entry level, so on and so forth. The task was interesting, but so time consuming. It was a way you could start to learn more about your students, even if it was through paper.

It had been an hour and a half and you were on your last file when you hear a gentle knock at the door. Slowly, it creaks open to reveal Luna and Harry together. Luna carries two lattes in her hand and smiles, extending her arm out to give it to you. “You are a saint, you know that?” you laugh as you accept the warm, caffeinated beverage.

“You’re still working?” she asks in disbelief as you finalize some last notes in the margins of one student’s file. “But class ended almost two hours ago.”

You look up at the both of them. “Oh, I know. But Fred left after the lecture and insisted I do the filing and note taking whilst he got to leave on time,” you speak through gritted teeth, finishing scribbling your last note and flopping the pen down, leaning back in the desk chair with a huff. “You weren’t lying when you told me he’s a self-righteous fuck,” you talk to Harry.

Harry laughs and digs his hands into his pockets with a huff. “Well, I didn’t use those words,” he laughs as you give him a look through your mascara coated lashes. He gives you a sorry sigh and leans over the desk, “Fred is a great guy one on one, but as a professor...he just likes having reign over his classroom. It’s not just you. His last TA was three years ago and he made the kid miserable. The kid, Dean Thomas, was so sick of philosophy after he switched to psychology. Now he’s a first year professor.” You roll your eyes and push yourself out of the desk, grabbing your purse and notebooks, piling them all in as Harry continues. “What happened today?”

Recounting the moments of the day made you frustrated, but you allowed yourself to vent to your co-workers. “Well, when I walked in, he thought I was a student,” you speak as Harry and Luna give you an apologetic look, Harry muttering an ouch. “Oh, that’s not even the worst part. Then I told him I was a TA and he told me he didn’t need one, because he’s more than capable of running his own classroom,” you mimic his pompous attitude. “He had the gall to threaten me to go to Neville’s office and find me a replacement class! I mean, sure, he’s a great professor, but that doesn’t mean he’s the only good one in this bloody school!” you exclaim, frustrated failing your arms, earning a small chuckle from Harry and Luna. “I’m sorry, I’m just very frustrated that this is how my first day on the job went,” you run your fingers through your hair, shaking your head.

“No need to apologize,” Luna walks over and touches your shoulder gently. “He sounds...unpleasant...” she tries to be as cordial as possible, earning a giggle from you. “But maybe you’ll warm up to each other? It’s only the first day. We have a whole semester ahead of us,” she looks between you and Harry cheerfully. In a weird way, her light, happy tone made you feel a little better.

You sigh, “I guess so. Ugh, a whole semester with Fred Weasley...”

The three of you start out of the classroom and start to make your way down the halls, retiring to the staff parking lot and bus stops. But before you can make your way to the public transportation, Harry suggests, “Hey, a few of us are headed to the bar to grab a drink before headed home. Do you both fancy coming?”

Luna perks up and shakes her head with an eager yes please. The idea of grabbing drinks sounded great and just what you needed after this gruesome day. But the looming thought of having to get up early and meet Fred in the classroom tomorrow at nine sharp hung over you like a storm cloud. With a sigh, you speak, “Wish I could. But Fred is making me meet him at nine to talk about lesson plans or something. Last thing I need is showing up hungover to my second day on the job.”

Harry and Luna groan in protest. “Oh, come on! You can’t let Fred rob you of your autonomy!” Luna stomps her foot and grabs your hand. “One drink won’t hurt! We’ll both have one pint and then I’ll take the bus back with you. We’re only one stop away from each other on the blue line,” she tries to convince you.

Harry starts dancing backwards to his car as he beeps it open. “I’ve got an extra seat,” he sing songs as he opens up the door for you.

A small smile creeps up on your face as you sigh. One drink couldn’t hurt. Just one cheeky little drink and then home away you would go. The night was still young, so you’d still be in bed at a reasonable hour. One drink. “You guys suck,” you laugh as you start walking to Harry’s car as Luna claps her hands in glee and Harry triumphantly punches the air, making you laugh.

-------

The morning sun creeps through your window, making you groan and roll over. The sunlight hurt your eyes and made your stomach churn as a headache pounds through your cranium, making you feel sick. “Bloody hell,” you whisper as you sit up and rub your eyes.

You slowly start to remember the events of last night and everyone there. It was all the TAs, including some of the younger professors. You met another Weasley, Ron you think. The history professor. Absolutely nothing like Fred. He was charming and goofy in a lovable way as he sat next to his wife, Hermione, a classical literature professor, an arm draped over her shoulders. Seamus was also there along with a few other chemistry TAs as they sat at a high rise table, pointing and whispering about the business professors and TAs who sat all the way in the back, drinking scotch and making mild chatter.

“No bother meeting them,” Seamus told you as you sipped on a gin and tonic. “The business professors and TAs are all little shits. The one with the blonde hair is Draco Malfoy. He thinks he’s better than everyone because he got his PhD, but everyone knows his dad paid off the university to give him the doctorate. His TAs all kiss his ass to get in his good graces. Zabini, Nott, Goyle, all of them,” he groans before taking a long sip of his ale, making you laugh.

You had tried to tell yourself that you would only stay for one drink, but then you started yourself in conversation with the other TAs about undergrad and grad school, realizing the mutual friends you had with each other. And then, you found yourself being convinced by Ron to do a green tea shot with him as he toasted to all of the new TAs of the semester. And with that, one drink became six.

With a groan, you slump yourself up in your small studio apartment and rub your temples. As the sunlight leaked in through your white linen curtains, you check the clock. The hands pointed to 8:25am which made you gasp and rise to your feet. “Motherfucker,” you huff to yourself as you run to the bathroom. You had to meet Fred at 9 and it already took you twenty minutes to get to campus which left you with virtually no time to get ready. “Shit, shit, shit,” you turn on the shower quickly, running to your closet to grab a fresh pair of plaid pants and a jumper. “I’m so dead,” you whisper to yourself as you scramble to get ready.

You frantically rub soap all over your body with one hand and brush your teeth with the other, needing to freshen up after a long night out. The shower was cold and unpleasant as you shivered before hoping out and throwing your clothes on, opting to skip a full face of makeup and just pop on tinted moisturizer and lip balm.

Checking the clock again, it was 8:35 and you groan in frustration. “I am a fucking moron,” you curse at yourself, grabbing your purse and notebooks and pens and papers, trying to get yourself organized before racing out the door to catch the bus. You run to your pantry to grab a granola bar as your phone starts buzzing on your nightstand. “Who the fuck is it?!” you scream as if your phone could hear you.

Stomping over, you grab it and see it was Harry calling you. “I’m kinda rushing to get out the door, Potter, make it quick, what’s up?” you babble as you slip your shoes in your Oxfords, lacing them up quickly.

Harry chuckles over the line. “I figured as much. You were a bit of a mess last night,” he tells you as you groan. “I’m only teasing you. But that being said, I’m passing your street in like two minutes, do you wanna catch a ride instead of betting on the bus?” he offers.

You sigh the biggest sigh of relief as you immediately respond. “Harry, you are a life saver,” you huff as Harry laughs. “I’ll be downstairs in a hot second. I just need to grab my coat and keys,” you tell him before hanging up.

Someone had your back today and sent Harry Potter to you. Rushing over to your coat rack, you grab your trench coat and your keys, doing a once over of your apartment, making sure you had everything, turned off all the lights and faucets. With a confident sigh, you exit your apartment, lock the door, and rush down the stairs.

As expected, Harry sat in his car with a ginger haired woman in the passenger seat. You give him an exhausted smile as you open the back seat and slide in. “Morning,” he chimes as you shut the door and buckle your seatbelt. “How are we feeling?”

You give him a knowing look. “Fuck off,” you grumble as he laughs. “I can’t believe I let myself get carried away like that last night.” You never let yourself loose track of time like that; you felt so irresponsible. “If you didn’t call me, I would surely have my ass handed to me by Fred today.”

“Fred?” the woman in the passenger seat chimes in. “Are you the poor TA who has to deal with my brother this semester?” she asks as you sigh and nod. “Good God, I apologize on his behalf. He can be a dick sometimes. I’m Ginny by the way.”

She turns to you, offering her hand to shake as you gladly accept it. “The women and gender studies professor, right?” you ask as she proudly nods. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m (Y/N), philosophy,” you tell her with a smile. “You and Harry are engaged, if I remember correctly?”

Ginny smiles happily and flashes you her engagement ring. “Just recently, yeah,” she confirms with an admiring look to Harry as he drives down the road, a small smile on his lips. “We met when we were both TAs and have been together since,” she recounts with a smile. “Enough of that though, how are you finding Hogwarts so far? With exception of my bothersome older brother,” she reframes the question.

“So far, so good,” you tell her honestly. The staff at the university was class. Everyone was so warm and welcoming and made you feel at home instantly. “I think last night I also met your brother, Ron. He kept handing out shots to the new TAs,” you recall as the pang in your head agrees.

Ginny rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that’s him. Ron likes to mess with the new bees every year,” she speaks. “Here, take this,” she hands you a piece of spearmint gum and a tube of mascara. “It’ll make you feel better, trust me,” she winks as you thank her. “Harry should have given you a heads up on that one,” she elbows him.

Harry shakes his head, “Ron has been my best mate since grad school, I’m not revealing his tricks to anyone no matter how good of a friend they are.” And with that, Harry pulls into the staff parking lot of Hogwarts as the time reads on the dashboard 8:55am. 5 minutes to spare.

As Harry puts the car in park, you unbuckle yourself and say, “I hate to rush out like this, but I quite literally have to dash to get to this meeting with Fred on time. Ginny, it was lovely meeting you. Harry, I owe you one. Thanks so much for the ride,” you slide out of the car as you dash towards the school.

“You can buy me a round of drinks!” he teases after you as you shake your head, dashing through the halls of Hogwarts to get to classroom 523.

You dart in between students as you run up the stairs, purse in hand, hair flowing as you make a mad dash. Finally, you reach the classroom and push the door open to reveal no one in the room. “Seriously?” you huff out of breath. You just ran here for no reason. Fred was no where to be found. But after closer inspection, there was a small sticky note on the chalkboard that read be back in ten. You huff and throw your bag down, walking around the classroom, trying to distract yourself from your throbbing headache.

The classroom is neatly decorated, plants here and there, the windows open to draw in fresh air as you inhale deeply. Then you remember from yesterday. There was a small speaker by Fred’s desk, connected to the desktop on his desk. You walk over and press the power button, making the speak bleep on with a blue flashing light. You press play and see what was on the queue. Soft jazz music starts playing, specifically Frank Sinatra’s I’ve Got You Under My Skin. You smile to yourself, how fitting.

As the jazz music echos lightly, you allow yourself to sway gently to the music, smiling to yourself. The song reminds you of working late in the library when you were in school, listening to music to maintain your focus. You hum the melody to yourself, dancing around the classroom, looking at the bookshelves, letting your fingers trace down their backbones. You allow yourself to start softly singing the lyrics as the tempo picks up, swaying back and forth as you pluck a book from the shelf, scanning it’s contents.

The song picks up, the brass section wailing as you dance around, reading the first few pages of a random book from Fred’s collection. You continue to sing out loud, a little off key as you smile to yourself. In this moment, you were content, regardless of how gross you felt. “’Cause I’ve got you under my skin,” you sang gently as you continued to dance back and forth, cradling the book in your arms.

But you are pulled from your day dream when a voice speaks, “You’re a fan of old blue eyes?” You let out a light squeal as you see Fred standing there, watching you with a small smirk on his mouth, holding two coffees in his hand.

You place a hand over your heart, monitoring how it thuds against your chest from being startled. You looked at Fred and sighed. He stood there, in a light tan khakis, crispy white shirt with a maroon tie hanging from his neck. A pair of square glasses sat on the bridge of his nose as his chocolate brown eyes peered at yours through them. “Sorry you had to see that,” you chuckle. “Sinatra is one of my favorites.”

Fred chuckles, “No need to apologize. Frank is one of the greats.” He walks over to you and hands you a coffee as you tuck the book in your hands under one of your arms. “Figured you’d need one of these,” he refers to the coffee. “TAs usually have quite the night out of the first day of work,” he recalls with a small smile. Was he...being friendly? But before you could ask how he knew you went out, he answered, “Ron is my brother. I know his ways. Because he learned them from me.” You laugh and shake your head. “I don’t know how you take your coffee, but I assumed a latte with an extra shot would suffice?”

You give him a soft smile, “Yeah, that’s perfect. Thanks so much. I appreciate it.” Fred nods and sits as his desk with a huff, pulling himself close to the desk. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Fred pulls his glasses off of his face and twirls them in between his fingers as you watch the glasses spin around and around. “I wanted to talk about expectations for the class and for you,” he speaks as you nod and take a sip of your warm latte that almost instantly helps with your headache. “I...I realize that we may have not gotten off to the best start yesterday...and I apologize for my behavior,” he speak as you nod.

An apology was a good start. “You’re forgiven,” you simply state.

“Thank you,” he adds before rubbing a hand over his lips. “As for the class, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. This class is a prestigious course. One of the harder ones in the department. That being said, I think it’s best for me to have the reigns on the class and lead class lectures. You are free to observe and aid in answering questions about assignments or papers,” he tells you as he leans back in his chair, thinking he made a reasonable bargain. But it was quite the opposite.

You weren’t here to sit around and listen to another philosophy professor spew a scripted lecture. You did that for four years in undergraduate school. You were here to learn how to teach a classroom, how to run a lesson plan, how to gain hands on experience. Being a puppet in the corner was not going to accomplish any of those things. “Fred, I appreciate the apology. But this offer is not acceptable,” you state calmly. “I’m your teaching assistant. I’m here to help in any way I can, of course, but I’m also here to help teach and instruct the class. You are suppose to help me learn how to teach the class.”

Fred nods, “And you can do that by matters of observation.”

His way of brushing you off made you infuriated again, just like yesterday. Did he do this to everyone? “But don’t you think it would be more helpful for me to have some actual hands on experience? Like actually teaching the class?” you tell him more than ask him.

He rises from his chair and sighs, “I don’t need you creating a new lesson plan. I’ve been using this one since I got here and it works. If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.” Fred walks over to the board and writes in bold letters, Aristotle, preparing for today’s lecture. The way that he so nonchalantly stated that to you and started writing on the board as if he didn’t insult your intelligence made you infuriated.

“You’re a fucking prick,” you flat out spew. You wish you could take it back, you really did. As soon as the words left your lips, you regretted what you had said to him. Insulting your superior was surefire to get you fired and released from your job, making you ineligible to graduate. But damn did it feel good to say.

Fred turns around to look at you, eyebrows furrows as if you just spoke in a foreign language to him. “I’m a fucking prick?” he repeats, folding his arms across his chest, leaning back on the chalkboard, crossing his legs as you stand in front of him, completely enraged, fists tight next to your sides. “Wouldn’t be the first time I heard that,” he laughs, combing his fingers through his hair, as if what you said was a compliment.

“Well the people who said it before were right! You’re cocky and arrogant and self-righteous and pompous and self-absorbed. You clearly have no intention of helping anyone but yourself! That’s probably why you like being a professor! So everyone listens to every last bit you say,” you start to ramble. Now that you had said what was on your mind, it was almost impossible to stop. The words flew off your tongue like a jet.

Boldly, Fred pushes himself off the chalkboard, hands dug into his pant’s pockets as he walks closer to you. A small smirk dances along his lips as his tongue darts out and drags across his lower lip. The action makes your breath hitch in your throat as you mentally curse yourself, wanting to be annoyed with him, but yet you found yourself aroused. “Keep going,” he urges. “Go on. Tell me how unbearable I am. You’ve only known me twenty four hours, but it seems like you have me all figured out,” he speaks, just a foot away from your body.

Adrenaline is coursing through your veins, your lips slightly parted as you take heaving breaths, making your chest rise and fall quickly. Fred’s eyes scan your face, soaking in your annoyed and confused expression. You suddenly become very aware of how close he is to you and you shake your head, taking a step back. “I only need a day to know an asshole when I see one,” you simply state, folding your arms over your chest. Your expression reads as if it were Fred’s turn to take a dig at you.

Fred chuckles lowly before speaking, “Here’s your problem, darling.” The endearing terms makes your stomach curdle. “You don’t get the hands on experience your second day on the job. You’ve gotta prove to me that you can run a class and keep their attention for three hours. You think it’s easy keeping the attention of a bunch of twenty year olds when you’re talking about philosophy? It’s not as easy as you may think it is,” Fred explain as you roll your eyes. “I was in your shoes once before, so I know what you’re experiencing.”

You laugh, “Oh, don’t pull that card. You’re a professor now. You did your time in my shoes. Don’t pretend like you’d give anything to go back.”

“Oh, honey, you couldn’t pay me enough to go back!” Fred retorts, now with an edge. “You know what. I could let you run today’s class,” he chuckles at the thought. “I could let you run it and watch you crash and fucking burn,” he emphasizes with a shrug. “I could watch those students trample all over you, you know why?” he asks looking at you intently as you gulp. “Because they don’t respect you! They don’t know who you are. In fact, they see you as one of them! If I mistook you as one of them on the first day, then what made you think they wouldn’t?” he asks as you inhale deeply. “Respect is earned when you are in a position of authority. Even if you’re just a professor. And you, (Y/N), haven’t earned that yet from the students. And I honestly don’t know if you have it from me.”

And with that last dig, the first student enters the classroom signaling that the first lecture of the day was ready to begin. Fred and you don’t acknowledge the student, just staring at each other. Fred’s words stung. Like a fresh wound, you were bleeding out. His words were sad, but true. You were a TA, but you were still a grad student. Fred worked to get to the position he was at. You just needed to prove to him that you were capable of handling yourself in a classroom setting as a teaching assistant.

You retreat back to your desk at the front of the room and sit down with a small huff, pulling out the attendance sheet, marking students as present as they enter the classroom.

Fred rubbed his hands over his face, feeling guilty for his out burst. He knew you were brilliant. To be quite honest, Fred knew he was going to get a TA. He had checked out your academic profile, seeing that you graduated undergrad with a nearly perfect grade point average and extra circulars that were sure to blow any one away. Your thesis statement made Fred laugh to himself, it was similar to his own when he was in university; the effect of utilitarianism on free will in our post-modern society. In a weird way, you reminded Fred of himself. Confident, smart, and ballsy. But where you differentiated with Fred is your adaptability. How you could adjust and go with the flow, that was Fred’s downfall.

Soon the classroom was full of students again and Fred took a deep breath, trying to regain his focus and composure to teach the class. He didn’t dare look at you, it would just make him upset. And you didn’t want to look at him. Fred sat on his desk, his long legs almost hitting the floor even when he sat. “Hello everyone,” he addressed the class, some students chiming back. “Let’s get started for the day. Shall we?” he claps his hands together. “Who can talk to me about eudaemonia?” he asks the class.

You looked out at the classroom along with Fred, anticipating a slew of hands but instead you got nothing. Students sat in their chairs in silence, some twiddling their pens, others scribbling in a notebook, some still groggy this during the ten o’clock lecture. “Someone’s gotta know about it. Come on then,” Fred probes the class as they remain silence, only sound is some kid yawning in the back. Fred allows the class to remain silent for a moment. “Alright,” he huffs. “Rough morning for a lot of us,” he speaks, hoping to catch your attention with that line, but you scribble nonsense into the margins of your notebook. “Maybe (Y/N) could give us a definition?” he suggests.

Your head shoots up like a rocket from your paper as you look at Fred with panic in your eyes. He looks at you with a small smile and encouragement, almost as if this were his way of making amends. A twisted way. You look towards the class and see twenty sets of eyes on you as you gulp before shaking away your nerves. “Um, yeah,” you clear your throat. “Eudaemonia is the greatest good, the aim for all human thinking and rational. Another word for eudaemonia is happiness,” you simply state, making the students start scribbling in their notebooks. Pride swells in your chest as you realize what you was valuable to the students. “Eudaemonia is achieve through action in tandem with the human soul and psyche. When eudaemonia is at its highest form, it is known as virtue,” you explain further as the class continues to scribble down what you were saying.

Slowly, you look towards Fred who gives you a small smile and a nod as you just give him a curt nod and turn back to your desk. But when you look away, it’s hard to cover up the small smile on your lips as you fiddle with the pen in your hands. Fred notices your grin as smiles to himself before speaking, “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Maybe today would be better than yesterday.

--------

Another two weeks had gone by and the work relationship you had with Fred improved significantly. He let you interject at certain points in his lectures, let you pose questions to the class, and even assigned you students for office hours. Finally, you started to feel like you were doing what you came here for and you were loving every moment of it.

Fred was a great professor and an even better mentor. He commanded a classroom unlike any other professor you have ever seen. He spoke with confidence and coolness and the students ate him up. It must be rewarding for him, watching students love his work as much as he did. You would watch him with a small smile as you jotted down notes here and there. Fred would catch your eye every now and then in class and gave you a small smile or cheeky wink that made your heart stop every now and then as you turned away from him, biting the inside of your cheek to make you stop smiling.

“Remember to finish Kant’s Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals for tomorrow’s class! If you haven’t turned in your paper on Nicomachean Ethics yet, do it by 4pm or else I will personally send (Y/N) to find you and hunt you down,” he teases the class as you roll your eyes, making the class laugh. “Happy Friday. Now scram,” Fred dismisses class as students file out.

When the majority of them have dispersed, you walk over to Fred’s desk and huff, “Good lecture today. Katie brought up some good questions about the differences between hypothetical imperatives and categorical imperatives.” Fred leans back in his desk chair, flopping his notebook down on his desk.

“Yeah, she did. But god, I wanted to punch Brian in the face. He kept talking over her while she was saying something poignant. I get it, Brian, there are different formulations, but damn, shut the fuck up,” Fred groans, making you laugh as you grab your bag and get ready to pack up for the day. “So, I hate to be the bearer of bad news...” he trails off as he rises from his seat.

You groan and throw your head back as you spin on your heels to face him. “Please, don’t tell me...” you start as Fred nods his head sadly. “Come on, Fred. It’s Friday night! Beginning of the weekend! All of the TAs are getting drinks at the pub tonight and quite honestly, I’d rather be doing that than grading philosophy papers,” you whine to him.

Fred mockingly places and hand over his heart and speaks, “First off, I am offended that you don’t want to spend time with me grading papers on the brilliance of Aristotle through a twenty year olds eyes.” The comment makes you chuckle, but he pushes on, “But I want to grade this papers tonight and finish them tonight so I, well we, can have the weekend free. You can get drinks any other night with the TAs. But we’ve got to do this tonight.”

You stomp your foot in frustration like a toddler, making Fred chuckle as he places his glasses on his face. “But tonight it’s dollar drafts! Dollar drafts happen once a week!” you beg him. “Why can’t we grade tomorrow?”

“Because I need to put these grades into my grade book before the students start wondering if they’ll ever be graded for something in this class,” he explains. “How about this?” he proposes. “We meet back here at 4:30pm. I’ll get take out for the both of us and we can drink coffee and energy drinks like we’re back in undergrad cramming for an exam. It’ll be fun,” he shimmies his shoulder making you giggle.

With a huff, you say, “Fine. But if we’re here past midnight, I’ll never forgive you.”

You start out of the classroom as Fred calls after you, “It’ll be fun!”

Shaking your head down, you start down the hall and see Harry and Luna talking as they leave their respective classrooms. “Heyo,” Harry calls out to you before slinging an arm around your shoulder. “So, for dollar drafts tonight we were just gonna take a cab there at around 5:00. Ron is going to be late because he’s going to wait for Hermione to get out of her night class and they’ll come together. But Seamus, Luna, Cho, and I will all be there and I think Dean said he’s coming and bringing some friends from grad school. It should be a great time,” Harry explains with a big grin.

Your ‘fomo’ was kicking in hard core as you sigh and speak, “About that...I can’t make it tonight.” Luna gives you a sad look as Harry groans and throws his head back. “Fred and I need to grade papers tonight to make the first quarter grades. If I get out early though, I’ll call and see if you guys are still there,” you offer as Harry slumps over.

“At least it sounds like things are going better with you and Fred,” Luna tells you and you nod with a smile. “Are you learning from him?”

“Absolutely,” you tell her. “Fred is actually a great professor and the class adores him. I’ve been enjoying it a lot recently.”

Harry wiggles his eyebrows, “Yeah, I’m sure you have.”

You slap Harry’s shoulder at his cheeky suggestion that something was going on. “Oh, quit it, Harry,” you say through gritted teeth. “Fred and I have a strictly working relationship. He and I are co-workers and are professional. All of my relationships are here. That’s more that some people can say,” you tease him about his engagement to Ginny as he rolls his eyes and mimics you. “Besides, there is nothing romantic or sexy about grading papers about ethics. In fact, it’s the opposite thing.”

Harry laughs, “You never know. Maybe you two will get so caught up in talking about morals that you just start to...” he mimics the sounds of sloppy snogging and moaning as you slap his arm again, Luna giggling. “Okay, okay, I’m just teasing you! But if you can meet us at the pub, give one of us a call and we can hail you a cab,” he tells you as you hug Luna goodbye and then Harry.

“Will do. Have a drink for me. Lord knows I’ll need one,” you huff, watching them walk off to catch up to Dean and Seamus.

Instead of getting drunk at a bar after a long week of work, you would be grading papers all night with Fred. Which honestly, maybe, didn’t sound so awful.

A few hours past and you and Fred were at on opposite sides of his desk, empty Chinese take out boxes scattered around you along with empty coffee cups and cans of energy drinks. It was ten o’clock at night and you had hardly made a dent in the papers. You throw your head on the desk with a thud, making Fred chuckle. “This is hell,” you groan. “Do they even proof read their sentences?” you ask Fred who shakes his head. “Seriously. Some of these papers are just bad. Weak thesis and an even weaker argument,” you slap the paper in front of you.

Fred scribbles in red ink on one paper and circle the letter grade on it before shifting it to the done pile. “Honestly, if it’s horrid and you struggle to make it past the third page, just skip to the end, read the conclusion and if it reads fine, give them a C minus. If they have a problem, they can come to office hours and talk about it with me,” he tells you as you laugh. “I’ve done that with two of them already.”

You place a C minus in red ink at the end of the paper and shift yours into the done pile. “How many more do we have left? We’ve been here for nearly six hours,” you tell him.

Fred examines the pile and huffs, “About four more. So two more each and then we’ll be done. The papers are ten pages long, so only twenty more pages of absolute garbage to read before we are done.”

Eh, that wasn’t so bad. You sigh and examine the room around you. Your eyes land on Fred whose eyes scan over the page as he nibbles away at his lower lip, glasses resting low on the bridge of his nose, red pen tucked behind his ear. He made markings on the paper here and there, adding comments as he sees fit. He’d mumble a bloody hell here and there if something was really bad, making you giggle. He’d catch your eye and a proud smile would form on his lips when he saw that he’d made you giggle.

After another hour and a half of grading, you were finally finished with the thick stack of papers on Fred’s desk. The two of you let out a sigh of relief as you leaned back in your chairs. “Freedom!” Fred cried out as you laughed, running your fingers through your hair. “And before midnight!” he points to his watch, the hands pointing to 11:37pm. “I think I know what this calls for,” he speaks wiggling his brows as you watch him stand up and pulls out a drawer to reveal a small handle of whiskey.

You laugh and shake your head. “Ohhhh, no,” you laugh and wave your hands.

“Really, (Y/N)? Eight hours of grading papers and you don’t want one drink?” he pours one glass, waiting to pour yours.

You think for a moment. You were supposed to call Harry and Luna and tell them that you would meet them at the bar. But quite honestly, you didn’t feel like leaving the classroom and the pleasant company of Fred. Maybe some one on one time could strengthen your relationship...as co-workers, of course.

In defeat, you sigh, “Fine.”

Fred smiles and pours you a nice, hefty glass of the brown liquor before handing it to you and sitting in his chair. “To a job well done,” he toasts as you clink your glasses together, sipping from the glass. The whiskey is smooth and warms your chest up delightfully as you relax further into the chair. The two of you rest in comfortable silence before Fred starts, “So...after you’ve finished your job here, where do you hope to go?”

You think for a moment and lean on your elbows on his desk, letting your hair flop forward. “Not too sure really,” you admit. “I know I want to teach at a university level, but it’s just a matter of where positions are available. Maybe I’ll go back to Oxford and see if there’s any availability in their department,” you toss around as Fred boos you, knowing the rivalry between Cambridge and Oxford is still fierce. “But I’m trying to go with the flow and see where the demand is.”

Fred nods his head and huffs, “Well...what if I told you that there is going to be an opening in position here at Hogwarts for next fall?” You give him a confused look as you sip from your whiskey. He says, “Professor McGonagall? She’s been here for ages and she’s retiring after nearly sixty years of teaching.” You widen your eyes and nod your head. Impressive. “The department is looking to hire a new, fresh face and I think you might be right for the job...” he takes a sneaky sip from his glass.

“It’s a really kind offer, Fred, really thoughtful of you,” you tell him. “But I want to know that where I apply for a job I’ve earned it. I didn’t get the job because someone pulled the strings behind the scenes,” you tell him. This was true. Anyone would kill for a job at Hogwarts University, but you wanted to know that you earned your title here and not because a friend handed it to you.

He leans forward and speaks, “This wouldn’t be me pulling any strings. (Y/N), you are a brilliant person and the students adore you. Just last week four students asked for your contact information to reach out about private tutoring. Neville loves you and the department sees the work that you’ve been doing and is throughly impressed. You’ve earned this position and the respect that comes along with it,” he tells you, honestly shining in his eyes, making you melt in your chair at his gaze. You feel heat rising to your cheeks as you look away from him, sipping from your glass. The sight makes Fred’s heart skip a beat.

“Are you saying I’ve earned your respect?” you ask him with a teasing smile as he chuckles.

“Yes. You earned it awhile ago. You’re an incredible woman,” he tells you as you smile, looking down at the glass in your hands, too meek to meet Fred’s gaze now.

It’s quiet for a moment before Fred clears his throat and stands up, turning on the speaker as Frank Sinatra softly starts playing again as you laugh to yourself. It Happened In Monterey starts to echo in the classroom as you smile at Fred. “One of my favorites,” you tell him.

Fred nods, “One of his best hits,” he says as if it were a fact. “Give me your top three. Go.”

You think for a moment before speaking, “It Happened In Monterey, The Way You Look Tonight, and Girl From Ipanema. I think those are his best.”

Fred smiles, “Agreed. His version of The Way You Look Tonight I prefer much over Tony Bennett’s.”

“Oh, easily! Don’t get me wrong, Tony Bennett has some great hits, but he doesn’t hold a candle to Frankie,” you tell Fred, making him chuckle. The two of you chat about music for a little while longer before Come Fly With Me comes on and Fred claps his hands. “My mom loves this song,” you smile, fondly remembering her singing in the kitchen to this song.

Fred rises to his feet and immediately grabs your hands and brings you to his feet. He places your drinks down on the desk as he spins you around, making you laugh. “You can’t not dance to this song,” he tells you, placing his hand on your waist, the other holding your other hand in his larger one. The contact makes your heart flutter in your chest as you giggle as he spins you around again, this time into his chest.

Your back is pressed against him as he sway with you in his arms before spin you back out, dancing around and around the classroom, the two of you laughing messes as you dance to Frank Sinatra, still in your work clothes from this morning. As you dance, you steal glances of Fred. How his hair was messy from running his fingers through it, his tie loose around his neck, impressions of his glasses in the bridge of his nose. He was so effortlessly handsome and it made your stomach sway at the sight of him. How he could be so handsome without even realizing it. Without even realizing how he made you feel. All warm and fuzzy inside, giggling like a child as he spun you around in his arms, making this moment feel like something out of a movie.

The song slowly fades away before Autumn in New York starts play, changing the tone of the room. You two catch your breaths before looking at each other in the eyes, Fred’s hands on your waist as your hands rest on his chest. The two of you look at each other, and slowly start to sway as the orchestra of the song starts to swell. Frank’s clear voice echos in the empty classroom as you slowly wrap your arms around Fred’s neck, him pulling you close to his body as you start to slow dance in the middle of the classroom, neither of you registering what is happening. You two were purely acting on instinct. But god, it felt so right.

The two of you dance gently to the music as Fred’s hands rest on your lower back, his thumbs tracing small circles into your jumper as you lace your fingers around his neck. No words are spoken. You just listen to the music and stare at the other, taking each other in during the dance. How could something that started off so innocent turn so beautiful?

Your mind was reeling, watching Fred look at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. You wanted to tell him everything that’s ever happened to you in this moment. Everything that you’ve gone through that brought you to this moment. Something about Fred made you feel safe. Something you hadn’t felt in years.

As the music starts to come to a close, you can feel Fred lean down gently and press his forehead to yours as you inhale a shaky breath. So desperately you wished to close the gap between you two, pushing your lips together, giving into him. But before anything can happen, the horns blare over the speaker, Brazil blasting over the speakers, making the two of you jump, startled at the change in pace.

You place a hand over your heart as Fred races over to the speaker to lower the volume. “That scared the living hell out of me,” you breathe out as Fred laughs and nods. The two of you stand there, wondering what to say, knowing that you were both thinking the same thing. But no one says anything. “Um,” you clear your throat. “It’s quite late. I should probably get going...” you trail off as you walk over to grab your purse and notebooks.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he tells you with a nod, cleaning up the mess of take away boxes on his desk. “You need me to call you a cab?” he asks.

“No, no, it’s fine, I got it,” you tell him with a smile as he nods, throwing out the garbage and sorting away miscellaneous papers. “Um, I, um...”

“I had fun with you,” Fred finishes your sentence for you as you exhale and smile gently with a nod. “I’ll see you on Monday then?”

You nod your head, “Absolutely, yeah.” He grins and digs his hands into his pockets.

You start to make your way towards the door, but Fred stops you and says, “Hey, (Y/N)? On Monday, I’d like you to run the lecture. For both classes.” Your eyes widen as you look at him in disbelief. You try to protest, but Fred speaks, “I think that the class would benefit from your perspective. And your sheer brilliance.”

A small smile forms on your lips as you let out a breathy laugh. “Wow. Okay. Yeah. For sure,” you tell him with a nod as Fred smiles. “Thank you, Fred. This is...wow. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he tells you. “You’ve earned it. You’ve earned it all. Now, get going and get a goodnight’s rest. That you surely deserve.”

And with one small wave, you exit the classroom and start down the hall, feeling like you were on cloud nine. Nothing felt as good as this.

------

Monday rolls around as quickly as Friday left and you enter campus with a pep in your step. Today you were teaching the class and you were beyond prepared. You had your lesson plan in your bag, a coffee in your hand, and your favorite jumper on. You felt invincible.

As you walked into the staff lounge, Harry sat with Seamus, sipping on coffees and munching on provided breakfast. “Morning, you lot,” you chime merrily as you place your bag on the table and walk towards the breakfast tray and grab a crossiant.

“You’re too cheery for a Monday morning,” Seamus says with a look on his face. “What’s got you so bright eyes and bushy tailed?”

You smile to yourself as you walk back to the table, tearing open the croissant to slab some jam on it. “Fred is letting me run lecture today,” you reply happily.

Seamus looks over to Harry with wide eyes, the two of them in complete shock. “Wow,” Seamus says. “That’s...incredible. Good on you, (Y/N),” he tells you as you thank him with a smile. “I didn’t know Fred let his TA run a class. The most he let Dean do was take roll,” he told Harry.

Harry took a sip from his coffee and wiggled his brows, “I didn’t think so either. I guess our very own (Y/N) has made him have a change of heart.”

You roll your eyes and speak, “I earned this, Harry. I’ve been working my ass off and after a long night of grading papers, Fred offered me the opportunity which I gladly took.” Harry nods his head with a mhm as you throw as piece of croissant at him. “I’m serious!”

“I’m not saying you don’t deserve it, (Y/N)! You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met; you deserve this like humans needs to breathe!” Harry exclaims. “I’m just...shocked that Fred let you make a lesson plan, nevertheless teach a whole class,” he speaks as you shrug. “Guess you bring out the best in Fred Weasley.”

You smile, “Is that such a bad thing?” Harry chuckles as Seamus shakes his head with a huff. “Well, if you excuse me, I have to get ready for my lecture,” you joke as Harry rolls his eyes.

“Don’t let this thing get to your head!” he calls after you as you flip him the bird, making Seamus laugh.

As you walk to 523, your heart patter against your chest with excitement, but also lots of nerves. What if they preferred Fred over you? What if Fred was more engaging with them? What if someone fell asleep? What if someone asked you a question you couldn’t answer?

Soon your confidence began to waver as you entered the classroom, Fred clearing the chalkboard, getting the room ready for you. “There she is. Professor for the day,” Fred claps his hands. “You excited?” he asks. But you don’t answer him. You nervously place your purse on the desk and start gnawing at your nails. This makes Fred worried as he walks over to you and places his hands on your shoulders. “You alright?” he asks, concern washing over his face.

You relax into his touch as you sigh, “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just...nervous.” Fred gives you a sympathetic smile. “What if they like you better than me? What if I say something stupid and they all laugh at me? What if I forget everything? I mean, how much do I really know about Mill? Probably nothing,” you ramble.

Fred laughs and gives you arms a squeeze, forcing your eyes up to him. “Hey, look at me,” he speaks as you huff and look into his comforting gaze. “Everything is going to be just fine. You are brilliant and the students love you. You’re gonna get up there and smash it. I know it,” he tells you with a confident smile, making your heart flutter and your stomach flip. “I was nervous for my first lecture too, but once you start, the adrenaline gets pumping and you feel on top of the world.”

You give him a shaky nod, “Yeah. Okay. I can do this, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” he laughs. “You’re more than capable,” he reassures you. “I believe in you. I always have,” he speaks, tilting your chin up with his fore finger as you gulp thickly. Fred’s eyes dart to your lips back up to your eyes as he smiles softly. “You’ll be brilliant.”

“Thank you,” you speak just above a whisper as Fred nods.

Slowly, he pulls away from you and sits at his desk which prompts the first student to enter the classroom as you gather your notebook and a piece of chalk, writing on the board in bold letters, Mill and Utilitarianism. You wipe your hands on your pants and look over to Fred who gives you a thumbs up.

Soon enough, the classroom fills up with students as you try to keep yourself calm and not let the class see your nerves. “Happy Monday, everyone,” Fred speaks from his desk. “I hope you all had a great weekend. Your papers on Aristotle have been graded and the grades are posted online. Some of you did great, some of you did shit. If you have any complaints, you can see me or (Y/N) after class to discuss,” he speaks, earning a few laughs from the class. Fred speaks, “Brian, I wouldn’t laugh if I were you. (Y/N) couldn’t make it past page three of yours before handing it off to me.” This earns a loud roar of laughter from the class which eased your nerves. God, Fred knew exactly what you needed. “Speaking of (Y/N), she will be running lecture today. I’ll be playing the role of TA and you’ll give her the same amount of respect like you give me. Understood?” The class nods. “Brilliant. (Y/N), you have the floor.”

You smile at him, “Thank you, Fred, for the introduction.” Fred nods. You turn to the class. “Alright. Let’s talk about Mill’s Utilitarianism. After reading it, what are our thoughts? How do we feel about Mill in comparison to Kant or Aristotle?” you ask generally trying to ease into the lecture.

The class is motionless for a moment before Jessica raises her hand and you nod. “I found it interesting how he acknowledges the objections in his work,” she tells you as you nod. “Not many philosopher’s explicitly do that in their works.”

“Great,” you smile at her. “Let’s take a look at that. Everyone open up your copies and turn to page seven. Mill writes, ‘Life has no higher purpose than pleasure? What are we, swine?’ What do you think this means?” you ask the class. The stare blankly at you as you inhale deeply, this being a fear of yours. But before you can allow yourself to freak out, you think about what Fred would do. You repeat the quote again and add this time, “Are we swines? I mean, I don’t know about Brian, but I know that I’m not a swine.”

This causes the class to erupt with laughter, Fred included, and Brian blushes a deep shade of red before he raises his hand to answer the question. Ah, victory.

The class continues on and the discussion was incredible with both classes you taught. The students had such provoking conversations with fruitful discussions on the topic. It made your heart swell that they were so good for you and you felt like you were in your element the whole time.

Fred couldn’t help but smile to himself as he watched you give the lecture, bouncing off points, connecting ideas, and posing new questions that he couldn’t even think of. You were electric and the students were infatuated with you, even more so than they were with him. He couldn’t help but feel proud of you. He loved watching you smile and laugh as you talked to the students.

“Okay, well unfortunately we are at time, but next week bring in your annotated books along with your first drafts of your papers!” you tell the class as they thank you as they leave the class one by one.

After each student has left the classroom and the door shuts, you turn to Fred who springs from his chair and runs over to you, scooping you up in a hug and spinning you around as you laugh. “Sheer brilliance,” he places you down with a beaming smile. “I’ve never seen students so excited to talk about moral philosophy,” he shakes his head as you grin widely, holding your hands behind your back. “That was great, (Y/N).”

“I feel great,” you tell him with a smile. “Seriously. It blows my mind how smart they are sometimes. Bloody Brian had such great talking points today!” you beam as Fred laughs. “But really, I learned everything that I did today from you. You are the great teacher,” you tell him, nudging his shoulder playfully.

Fred rolls his eyes, “Oh, don’t give me all the credit. I mean...give me some, but not all.” You laugh and shake your head. “Kidding, kidding,” he tells you as you smile at him, taking in the way his face looked as the sun started to set behind him, signaling the end of your day. “Um, I’ll walk with you to the lot?”

You nod your head as the two of you pack your things and make your way to the parking lot with Fred, the both of you making light chatter about the class discussions and how thought provoking they all were. As you walk in the halls, you pass Harry who calls out, “I’m guessing it went well!”

“Shut it, Potter!” you call back as Fred chuckles.

Soon enough, you reach the staff parking lot and Fred digs around in his pockets for the key to his car. “Well,” Fred huffs. “You did a great job today, (Y/N). I would say I’m impressed, but I knew you would do brilliantly.”

You beam, “Thank you, Fred. Really. I know how much this class means to you and I thank you for trusting me with it.”

He smiles and leans against the hood of his black Audi, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows before leaning on his hands. “It’s my pleasure. I know how much teaching a class meant to you and I’m happy I could help,” he tells you as you nod.

The two of you stand there, watching each other as the sun sets behind the castle. Fred’s eyes glossed over your body and how pants hugged your curves and how the jumper clung onto your figure. He took a deep breath in before smiling to himself as you gulped and cleared your throat, trying to diffuse some of the tension between the two of you. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, Professor,” you tease Fred as he chuckles.

You start to walk away and towards the bus stop, but Fred’s voice stops you. “(Y/N)?” he speaks as you turn back to him, walking back to him. “I’ve got a quick question for you.”

“What’s up?”

“So, Mill said ‘There's no time for all this calculating when we're faced with an actual moral decision.’ And I’m afraid that I have a moral decision of my own,” he speaks with a smirk as you heart races at the sight of the smile you’ve grown so fond of over the past few weeks.

You smile at your feet before looking up at him. “And what would that moral decision be, Professor Weasley?” you tease him as he chuckles.

“That night, we spent grading papers,” he starts as you tuck your hands into your back pockets. “I wanted to kiss you.” His confession makes your heart race as face heat up. “And ever since then, I’ve been trying to find a moment where I can finally suck it up and kiss you,” he smirks. “So, what I guess what I’m trying to say is, is it alright if I kiss my teaching assistant in the parking lot of this bloody school?”

You lightly laugh and speak, taking a step closer to him as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you place your hands on his chest, “Well, if we are talking about this in the terms of Mill, would kissing your teaching assistant bring you pleasure?”

Fred smiles, “Without a doubt.”

“Then I think you’re morally obligated to,” you tell him as he chuckles.

He hesitates no longer and dips his head down to connect your lips together as you inhale deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck. His lips are soft, but passionate against you as they gently move against yours. His hands squeeze your hips gently as you press yourself against his body, making Fred lightly moan into your mouth. His tongue slips past your parted lips, caressing his tongue with yours as you let out a soft moan, making Fred inhale deeply. Your heart is pounding against your chest as you gently pull at the roots of his hair, relishing in the way his lips feel against yours. His mouth moves slowly and lazily against yours, making your head spin and desire grow. It’s everything you imagined it would be as cliche as it sounded.

Gently, you pull away as Fred smiles lightly. “Thank you, John Stuart Mill,” he breathes out, making you laugh. “I’ve been dying to do that.”

“I’m glad you did,” you confess to him, arms still wrapped around him as Fred squeezes your hips, placing another soft kiss to your lips. “Now that you’ve accomplish that moral dilemma, do you have any idea what your next one is?” you tease him, wiggling your brows.

Fred shakes his head, “Oh, we’ve got the rest of the semester to figure that one out.”

1K notes · View notes

marvelouspeterparker · 3 years

Text

professor’s sweetheart

pairing: professor!tom holland x student!reader

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

word count: 15.1k

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

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

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

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

give me feedback please!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face.

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

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

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

“Hey!”

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

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

“Oh please, it’s so obvious.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did not just say that.”

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

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

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

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

❊❊❊❊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N, I just wanted to make …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have class with him tomorrow––”

“That’s why I said for now.”

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

“Love you!”

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

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

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

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N,

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

Warmest Regards,

Professor Holland

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

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

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

Hi Professor Holland,

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

Thank you!

Y/N

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

Hi Y/N,

Perfect! I’ll see you then :)

Warmly,

Professor Holland

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

❊❊❊❊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, you adored this man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He raised his brows, “Oh––”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, professor. I will.”

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

“Holy shit.”

❊❊❊❊

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

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

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

❊❊❊❊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❊❊❊❊

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

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

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

Oh. My. God.

Shut. Up.

You’re fucking lying!

“But we didn’t fuck.”

“Boo––”

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

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

“Literally bye.”

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

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

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

❊❊❊❊

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom: Having fun, are you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❊❊❊❊

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

“Come in, darling!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay professor?”

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

She hummed a small okay and went on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Christ, were you wearing this all day?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❊❊❊❊

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

“Oh come on Y/N, you look hot!”

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

“Duh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“H–Hi.”

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

“Any plans?” You asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck.” He really had it bad for you.

❊❊❊❊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❊❊❊❊

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

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

“No I just––”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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